#unisex high top boxer

[isitfashionism]

LOTD #137

Hat - Unfolded - Unisex Brimless Hat

Nose Bind - Harakiri - "BANDAGE 1984 #1.5' face bandaid

Gauges - DAE - D-Snake Swallow Gauges

Top - Nitropanic - Flex Top

Cast - [high v.] - Arm Cast

Hand Wrap - MUSU - Hand Wraps

Bottoms - ardor*- boxer sweats

Shoes - Nitropanic - Platform Krokk

[poptod]

another request lmao. perhaps an elliot/the mastermind x reader where reader is one of his alters/hallucinations who he falls in love with but at the end he realizes they're not real? a little angsty but not too much cuz it's sad girl hours over here.

Notes: hey,,, kind of got carried away with this,,,,, i love plots that are vague and somewhat mystical. anyway there's smut in this WC: 2k

+

Is this what people feel?

Is this what touch feels like to unmarred skin?

His heart pounds against his chest, beats against the ragged breaths that leave him vacant and aching. Something needs to happen––the shiver in his fingertips must be satiated, the need for lips on his satisfied. Otherwise he will exist like this forever––yearning for something, unable to reach it, tangled up in the bedsheets he never actually left.

"Shhh, darling," you whisper in the sweetest of tones, your voice that echoing hum that ricochets off the empty walls of his mind. There's hands on him, running down his chest, tugging on his hair, pulling at his clothes and dipping beneath his skin. "I love you."

God, it's been forever since he last heard those words. Not that he particularly missed them; it's just... it's been a while. It doesn't feel like they mean anything anymore. Your touch does, though––it means everything to him when you speak these words against his forehead, soft lips wrapping him up in affection he no longer recognizes. Nothing can mean more than this, this closeness to another, the comfort found in those you've known longer and better than you've known yourself.

He jolts awake with a start, sitting straight up in bed with his eyes wide open. They burn from the cold air of his apartment, stinging his bare skin as the covers fall off his chest, landing onto your weary body whose arms cling to his middle. Your cheek is pressed tight against his stomach, and the soft mumbles falling from you indicate he's already woken you up.

"El," you mumble, resituating yourself so you're once more hugging him tight, "did you have another nightmare?"

"No, I..." he shifts, rests his head back down on his pillow. "Just exciting. Nothing to worry about."

"Alright," you whisper, but even your whisper is barely there as you land a sleepy kiss on his stomach.

The dark of midnight makes way for rest once more. In the morning though, when he awakes, you aren't there. His bedsheets are all twisted around him, a product of an unpleasantly dream-filled night.

You must be off at work. It's a little ways into the morning, after all.

His own work takes up the usual 9 to 5 hours, and by the time he gets home he's wound up tighter than a boxer's fist. Anxiety is flush in his veins––the smallest mistakes and movements can set him off, and every movement he makes is violent and curt. Rolling up a joint proves hard, but in the end it's worth it, feeling the familiar taste of smoke drift out of his mouth.

Halfway through his joint, the door opens and the sound of your keys jangles from the doorway.

"Hello darling," you say as you pass by him on the couch, quickly pausing to kiss the top of his head. "Rough day at work?"

"Isn't it always?" He replies in a soft grumble, but you give his attitude little recognition.

Once you finish setting down the couple of things in your hands––water bottle, phone, keys, pocket knife––you kneel beside him on the floor, putting your chin on his knee as you look up at him with puppy eyes.

"What do you want me to do?" You ask softly. You always ask.

"Scratch my palm. Please."

"... alright," you say, hesitation grasping you for only a second before you obey. This command, though odd, is one he's give you before––he needs stimulation. Something to pay attention to that isn't his coworkers, his boss, or the stupid fucking company his team is working for.

You don't go as rough as he does when he scratches himself, but it's enough to leave red streaks after a minute or two. When he's doing it to himself, he can feel the skin begin to peel away, making way for angry, red scars that nearly bleed with how close he gets to completely scrubbing away his skin layer.

The kiss you leave on his palm when you finish calms both the nerves and the stinging sensation. At this point you've probably kissed every part of him––it's a strange love language of yours that he adores to no end. A kiss that speaks words every time it happens. It is in every way better than the words he can't seem to get out right.

It's midnight and he's high on morphine, the final threads of his weed high fading out as he stares at the ceiling immobile. His freezing skin needs you––needs your warmth, your weight, your breath on his chest, and you're nowhere to be found. He's scanned the whole apartment and tried to call you, to no avail.

He needs you more than he needs air.

Where the hell are you?

By the next morn he's forgotten the panic and dread of the night before. Your voice stirs him into being; "my love, my dearest, my beautiful," all like honey in his head. Slow. Sweet. Warm.

His eyes drift blearily open, still staring at the ceiling above him. There is no one at his side, no warmth that had comforted him, no words that had awoken him.

A song plays in his thoughts all day, going on repeat time after time, often going over the same verse and chorus multiple times in one go. He grits his teeth and tries playing other songs––plugs his earbuds into a phone and blares it loud as he can, but it doesn't leave. The words repeat again and again and again, and he's not even sure if they're the right lyrics. It's just constantly there, and he hates it, and he needs you. He hasn't felt your touch in what feels like eons, though it's only been around a day.

It is much in a way similar to the feelings of love perceived by robots. Not so much of an I-miss-you; more like a 'I'm used to your presence, and your absence disrupts my routine'. His heart bleeds all over his ribs as he thinks of you, stuck in his cubicle.

You appear over the grey wall of his desk, making no sound as you take his hand. He doesn't protest––of course he wouldn't––but confusion does befall him as you lead him away from the stuffed business room.

Questions grow only more specific as you take him into the bathroom, pushing the both of you in before locking the door behind you. It's one of those unisex bathrooms, so there's a decent amount of space, but you crowd him into the corner anyway.

"I need you, El," you murmur, soft pants leaving you as you push your body against his.

He gasps sharply at the touch of your fingers crawling beneath his shirt, pulling it out of his tucked pants and not bothering to unbutton it. No, you're much more hurried––you need this now, and you won't bother yourself with anything else until you get it.

You fall to your knees, grasping and fiddling with the button on his jeans until it pops open. A small smile comes to you, growing when you palm at his member and a moan tumbles from his lips.

"I've been thinking about you," you say, though it's obvious you barely have the space of mind to speak since you're now mouthing at his clothed cock, "and I need you."

Only when your teasing has brought him to constant moans and grunts do you pull down his boxers, allowing a sigh of relief that he's no longer constrained. You just grin like a cheshire cat, a cat who got the cream, and press wet kisses all up and down him. He tangles his fingers into your hair, pulling when you tease him beyond his limit.

"Don't fucking –"

You cut him off with your lips wrapping around his head, bringing a burning hot satisfaction that fills up his whole body. When you get a long, sweet moan from him, you pop off the head, instead mouthing down his shaft.

"Don't what, baby?"

"Fuck," he grits out, his grip on your hair tightening slightly when you reach the base.

The kiss you plant at his tip is dwarfed by the sensation of you once more taking him in your mouth, sliding your tongue over the parts you can reach and slowly moving further down. It takes a little bit of work, but eventually you can take the whole of him, sucking him down to his base in a movement that he swears could kill him with pleasure.

"I'm sorry for doing this during your work," you say softly as you pull off him, continuing to stroke him with your right hand. "I just got to thinking about you and I missed how you taste. I miss the way you fuck my mouth."

"That's what you want?" He asks, still having trouble controlling his vocal cords.

You nod, almost shyly as you look up at him, your cheek rested against his hip.

"Open up, then," he says, voice dipping low as lust laces his gaze. You obey with innocent eyes, so willing to please him, so ready to receive all he can give you.

He thrusts himself in side you, forcing his cock down your throat as you try not to gag. You're tight––always tight, always warm, always eager to swallow around him and trace veins with your tongue. With his hand in your hair, he keeps your head still, using you as he would any other toy. You love this. Even the tears on your cheeks.

He speeds up as he gets closer to his finish, his thrusts deep with the head of his cock usually ground up against the back of your mouth. The twitch of his approaching orgasm tells you to work all the harder, sucking him in deeper, eagerly awaiting the feeling of warm cum dripping down your throat.

Just as you wanted, he finishes in your mouth, and you faithfully swallow every bit he has to give you. Tight elation fills up his chest, remnants shivering throughout his body as he watches the string of saliva that connects your panting mouth to his cock.

Unable to bear even such short of a distance, he drags you to your feet by your hair, smashing his lips against yours in a kiss that could bruise his skin.

"I love you," you murmur between the breaths you can get, returning his fervor with the same excitement and need he bears for you.

This is nothing more than intoxicating.

Upon opening his eyes he finds himself sitting on the bathroom counter alone, another joint in his hands that really shouldn't be there. The fan is on, but the smell is still going to linger, though he hardly cares anymore. He could be fired in the next hour and it doesn't matter.

"I want you to look at me," he hears. Another blink and he's home––the same joint in his hands, a little burnt out, but that's not what's on his mind. What's on his mind is you, the weight of you sitting on his lap, your hands holding his face.

"I am," he says.

"You know I love you," you whisper, and he feels your words on his skin. He nods. "I will always love you. No matter what. You will occupy my mind, and I will always want what's best for you. Don't forget that, will you?"

"Of course not," he says through a lump in his throat. When did he get here and what are you talking about?

"I want you to look through me," you say softly, already regretful of something that hasn't yet come to pass. "Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," he says, but his voice cracks.

"Look through me."

Through your head is a crack in the wall. Through your chest is his TV, and through your hips is his lap.

He looks back up to meet your eyes but finds nothing. There is nothing on him––no pressure, no warmth, and it's now he realizes his apartment is freezing cold. His fingers are numb with it, encased with the harsh winter creeping through the cracks in his windows. Everything is cold, and there is no sign of you.

How fitting for him.

How perfect, how deserving, for someone like him.

The biggest fucking mess in the world.

[chibi-arthur]

Stop interrupting my thought proc- 2/10

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18122630/chapters/43415117

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human

Pairing: HankCon

Warnings: major character death, suicide, angst, memory alteration

Rating: M

A massive thanks to @honkforhankcon who beta'd this chapter too! 

Day 2

  Connor opened his eyes. He was in his apartment, lying down in bed. His internal clock told him it was past noon already but he only snuggled further into the nest of blankets and pillows.

Yesterday, after that third corrupted message clouded his vision, Connor had to soft reboot. Understandably, it freaked Hank out. The Lieutenant was ready to call the trusted technician they met on one of the cases but Connor managed to convince him not to.

Hank took good care of him. He drove him home, ensured he was comfortable and put a bottle of thirium on the nightstand, just to be safe. It was with great reluctance that he went back home, unwilling to leave the android alone. He's such a good friend.

Connor couldn't help but sigh dreamily and squeeze his fish plushie closer to himself. He wanted Hank to be more than just a friend.

There it was again, that buzzing in his head. It seemed to appear whenever he was thinking about Hank (which, admittedly, was very often). He scowled into the pillows.

He probably should go to a technician but...he was afraid. Trust didn't come easy to him, especially when it came to people who knew how the androids worked. Yes, there was this one tech he and Hank had met a few months ago that helped them a few times, however Connor still had that deep-rooted fear, a phobia really. He didn't want to go alone, yet; he also didn't want to rope Hank into this more than he had to.

With a huff he got off the bed. He placed Dewey reverently in the middle of the nest of blankets and went about changing his clothes. He pulled on dress pants over his boxers and some simple black socks but hesitated before taking off his oversized sleep shirt.

The very first time he slept over at Hank's he neglected to bring any sleepwear so he borrowed this particular shirt. He was surprised at how comfortable it was and opted to buy more oversized tops for lounge wear. As soon as he changed into Hank's shirt that day he resolutely declared that Hank is never getting it back. The Lieutenant sputtered and blushed, mumbling something about "couple-y shit" but Connor was far too captivated by the material to pay attention to human hangups. He couldn't stop trailing his fingers across the shirt or bunching it up in his fists, revealing the pale skin of his thighs. Hank excused himself to his bedroom rather quickly, he didn't even finish watching the movie with Connor, just told him to watch the rest on his own.

Connor wished he scanned his vitals then. He was too absorbed in the newness of everything and now he wasn't sure whether Hank left because he felt self-conscious or disgusted.

The android decided to leave the shirt on, feeling like dressing smart casual today. He put on black sneakers with silver studs on the sides and left the house.

It might have been past noon but Connor still intended to go to work. Hank said he'd put in word with Fowler and get him a day off but Connor didn't really know what to do with himself if he wasn't working. Hank reluctantly agreed to take the afternoon shift instead.

As he was locking the front door, Connor remembered he was only wearing a short-sleeved shirt. He didn't get cold, not really, but he still decided to backtrack and snag a light coat from his coat rack. It was a really nice coat, charcoal gray with black buttons. Slightly feminine cut but everything is unisex if you don't care and Connor certainly didn't. It looked nice, he liked it and that's all that should matter.

***

Hank and Connor were at the precinct for no longer than an hour when they got called in. A dead body was found in a rundown block of flats near the old industrial district.

"Looks like an unlucky accident."

Hank curiously peered into the bathtub where a woman's body lay. The bathtub was filled and a hairdryer was sitting at the bottom. An open-shut case, or so it seemed.

"Too bad I don't believe in accidents."

Connor nodded in agreement. The bathroom was a mess, as if there was a fight. The mirror was broken, various bottles and knicknacks overturned, a ton of fingerprints so densely packed and stacked on top of each other that it was impossible to analyse them. No blood, or even thirium, to link anyone to the crime scene though.

"See anything, Con?"

"I see plenty, though nothing that would help in the investigation, Lieutenant."

Hank muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘smartass’ and left the bathroom to look for evidence elsewhere in the flat. Connor lingered near the body in the immediate crime scene for a bit longer but he didn’t manage to find anything that would point to it being a murder instead of an accident. There were enough clues to make something spark inside of Connor, something that might be a gut feeling in humans, though nothing concrete. And it was driving the android up a wall.

“Alright Con,” Hank said, coming back from whichever part of the flat he was in, “let’s get out of here and question the neighbours and family members. God knows we won’t find any evidence in here.”

Grateful for the distraction, Connor almost skipped after Hank out of the apartment. Together they went to knock on the closest neighbour’s door. They didn’t have to wait long for an older woman to open and usher them inside.

“You see,” the woman began once they sat down in her living room, “that woman, Lange, was such a...whore.” She whispered the last word, looking around frantically, as if someone might hear her. “As soon as Robert, her husband, left for some work-related meeting in another city for a few days, she got Miss Rushman to babysit her kids and went a couple floors up to party with those youngsters.”

“Ma’am, excuse me but going to unwind for a few hours isn’t the same as being, ah, sexually promiscuous.” Hank toned down on the crude language when addressing the older lady. She glared at him and the Lieutenant tried to make himself look smaller. It was highly entertaining and if Connor hadn’t disabled the action in time he would’ve surely laughed out loud, directing the lady’s wrath toward himself.

"I may be old but I'm not stupid! You youngsters don't know anything about life!"

Hank mouthed 'youngsters', amused but still wary of the older lady. She had quite a tight grip on one of the little couch cushions and he didn't want to find out whether her aim was good or not.

"Mrs. Talbot, could you please tell us who Mrs. Lange was seeing?" Connor interjected before Hank could say anything more to set off Mrs. Talbot.

"Everyone," the old lady scoffed, "but her latest lover was this young man with a fancy car."

"Do you know his name?"

"No. But the youngsters upstairs might."

***

That's how Hank and Connor found themselves a couple floors up, trying to knock on the door loud enough to be heard over the music blasting from inside.

"It's not even 3pm and they're already partying?" It's been a year already and some people's actions still confused Connor.

"Maybe they never stopped."

Connor's LED whirled yellow but Hank didn't wait for him to ask his question. He reached out and turned the knob. The door was open.

A wall of sound assaulted their ears as soon as they entered. Connor toned down his hearing sensitivity, Hank only had his palms to drown out the sound with. Somewhere underneath the 2020s techno music Connor could hear two people arguing.

Sure enough, as Hank and Connor crossed the hall and stepped into the living room, they saw a man and a woman. He (Chris Martín, 29, cashier, no past offenses) was sitting on a couch, elbows propped on his knees and his head cradled in his hands. Meanwhile she (Ashley Kamor, 23, college dropout, red ice possession) was standing over him, shouting something. Her words were indecipherable, the loud music drowning out barely legible slurring only someone simultaneously high and intoxicated could call 'speaking'.

The couple didn't see them until Hank walked up to the stereo and turned down the volume.

"Hey! This is private property!" shouted Chris, the intimidating tone falling a little short when he swayed and almost fell off the couch. Meanwhile, Ashley was silent and even looked like she might be sick or lose consciousness.

"We're with the DPD," Hank said, flashing his badge. "Do you happen to know a Mrs. Lange?"

"Oh yeah! Lizzy, she knows how to party. Why?" It would be hard to understand Chris with all the slurring but Connor had a lot of practice talking on the phone with a drunk Hank. It helped that he wasn't as intoxicated as Ashley.

"Do you know the name of her boyfriend?"

"Which one?"

"The one with a fancy car," Hank said at the same time Connor demanded "All of them". The Lieutenant shot him a scathing look as Ms Kamor, suddenly very chatty, started rattling off names and divulging details about most of them.

***

"Fuck, checking all of those Johns out will take us a week!" Hank griped as they were driving back to the precinct to report to Captain Fowler.

Connor wanted to answer, he really did, but he got distracted by the mouth-watering sight of Hank driving with only one hand on the wheel, the other carding through his hair in an effort to get it out of his face. Connor wondered how it would feel like if he deactivated his synthskin and ran his fingers through Hank's hair, touched his beard, kissed him...

Kissed him?

Yeah. Kissed him. Connor wanted it like nothing else.

He grimaced when the angry buzzing in his head came back with a vengeance.

"See, you're not thrilled about it either!" The Lieutenant misinterpreted his facial expression but Connor didn't correct him.

"I...might've underestimated how many lovers Mrs. Lange had. And how much information the neighbours would be willing to provide."

Hank grumbled under his breath, obviously unhappy about the amount of overtime they'd have to clock in. The android was content just looking out the window.

***

Connor could see that Hank was quickly running out of patience. Every person they crossed off their – admittedly long – potential suspect list the furrow in his brow got deeper. It’s no wonder, really. They had been driving around town, questioning Mrs. Lange’s lovers, but they didn’t learn anything. Connor decided to call it quits when the clock struck 10pm and Hank’s fingers twitched one too many times. He didn’t want the Lieutenant to punch anyone and get in trouble, no matter how satisfying it would be to watch those assholes get knocked out.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Wulf, we’ll contact you in case any further statements are needed." Connor discreetly steered Hank towards the front door. He was actually relieved their work for today was over.

"No problem at all. Have a nice evening, gentlemen."

Just as Connor was crossing the threshold, Mr. Wulf grabbed his forearm. He managed to catch the android off-guard and whirled him around, pulling closer to himself.

"You know, you’re pretty cute. You can call me anytime, sweetheart."

Connor stifled the urge to gag. Instead, he smiled faux-pleasantly and brushed off the man’s hand from his arm. "That’s nice but you’re not my type." With those words he left Mr. Wulf gaping at the door and followed after an impishly grinning Hank.

"Holy shit, Con," Hank wheezed after they got in the car, "did you see his face? He was so unprepared. Damn, I love when self-absorbed jerks like him get knocked down a peg."

The car let out a low rumble when Hank started it up. They’ve been driving for a minute or two when the Lieutenant spoke again.

"By the way…" The cough that came after this sentence sounded forced and Connor immediately noticed. He straightened up, knowing what Hank was about to say next was going to be either very serious or personal. "What…what is your type, anyway? Asking for a friend."

Connor smiled but didn’t answer for a while. He let Hank squirm a little in his seat and answered only when the older man was opening his mouth, probably about to retract his question and apologise.

"Truth is, Hank," Connor leaned a bit to his left. For the maximum effect he modulated his voice to sound like will.i.am’s. "I like them big, I like them chunky."

Hank roared with laughter, throwing his head back. Connor gripped the steering wheel with his right hand to ensure the car wouldn’t veer into the other lane. He kept his hand there even when Hank calmed down and started paying attention to the road again. He couldn’t help it! Being close to Hank was such a rush, he just wanted to stay in his personal space forever and-

"Mpf!" Wide-eyed, Connor let out a garbled sound when Hank’s massive hand covered almost all of his face and pushed him back into his seat. Through Hank’s spread fingers he could see the man blushing a bit, a quick scan told him his heart rate was elevated. Connor wanted to lick the palm pressed to his face.

"Stop that, I’m tryna drive."

Connor, obviously, wasn’t able to answer. The silence was deafening.

As the Lieutenant was drawing his palm back, Connor caught his wrist in both hands. Hank stubbornly kept his eyes on the road but didn’t try to get away from that grasp. He let the android shift his hand as he pleased, tensing minutely when Connor nuzzled his cheek into his palm.

"Con." The word sounded like a warning. There was something dark in Hank’s voice, something primal. It made Connor shiver.

"Hank." An almost whisper, slightly breathy as if Connor couldn’t get enough air in his artificial lungs.

Over the year they grew closer together but Connor felt there was always something missing from their relationship. He had his suspicions about what it may be but found out for sure only a few days ago. He wanted to be even closer. He wanted to be more than just best friends. He wanted his social programme to declare them "lovers". He wanted.

"Don’t." Voice strained, Hank kept driving until he reached Connor’s apartment building. He never removed his right hand from the android’s grasp.

Connor was conflicted. Hank was giving mixed signals – his words curt but his touch warm and gentle. He was preparing himself for rejection but also hoped, hoped so deeply that the Lieutenant felt the same. He forgot to breathe when the car came to a stop, nervous beyond belief.

But when Hank finally looked at him, there was no disgust nor hate visible on his face.

(Pupil dilation 30% more than normal, heart rate 132bpm, body heat elevated)

Oh.

Connor couldn’t tell who moved first, even with all that fancy programming. Hank’s left arm shot towards Connor’s waist like a homing rocket while Connor’s right hand gripped Hank’s hair at the base of his skull. Hank’s right palm cradled Connor’s cheek gently, cupped by Connor’s left skinless hand.

The kiss was desperate. They both poured all of their everything into it, channelling a year’s worth of emotions.

It was awkward with their seatbelts on but Connor soon unclasped both of them, the belts retracting into the car seats with a harsh click. The android didn’t waste any time pushing the driver’s seat as far back as it would go and climbing onto Hank’s lap. His ass pushed the horn but neither of the men seemed concerned with the resounding honk that carried over the neighbourhood. To avoid making more noise Connor simply clung tightly to Hank’s front, pressing their arousals together. Hank groaned low in his throat and it took a Herculean effort on Connor’s part not to come undone just by hearing it.

The angry buzzing in Connor’s head struck with even more force than yesterday but he buried it with all the sensory data he kept receiving - the softness of Hank’s lips, the tight grip he had on his waist, the wandering hand on his back. It was all so much. Almost too much but also not enough.

When Connor felt Hank’s tongue swiping at his bottom lip, he gladly opened up for him. They both shivered as their tongues met, the slick glide audible in the confines of the car. Connor slid his palms over Hank’s arms, feeling the muscles move under his fingers as Hank was doing some exploration of his own.

All too soon they had to stop, as one of them actually needed oxygen to survive. A string of saliva connected their lips for a second before breaking off. Connor licked his lips. He wasn’t surprised when he discovered the skin on them retracted during their make out session.

They gently rested their foreheads against each other and just breathed for a moment.

"Hank."

0̶̪̲̜͇͉̬̺͙̞̰͓̻͚͙̼̳̪͈͌̔ͧ̈́̀̀͘͟͠1̷̡̌͆̄̒ͯ͑̆̿ͦͩ̃͊͊̃̎͋ͩ͘͜͏͈̠͔̯̙͙͉̫̥0̧͖͎̩͖̠͉̻̽͗̊͠0̡̡̯͙͔̖͚̬̞ͬ͒̔̏ͭ͆͆̆͛̓͒ͧ̃ͬ̂̆̀͢1̇̎͛̾́ͬ͐̇̏ͫ̂͆̀͏̸̢̤̼̗͖̰̱̫1̶̨̛͈̹̪̣̠̘̫̺̰͍̣̱̹͇͔̞̩͒͒͗͑̎ͪ̔ͥͬ̈́̀͘ͅ1̸̣̼̹̯͔̻̜̜͖̈͐̃̐ͨ͑̊̍̈́̒͞ͅ0ͭ̽ͯ̿͗̀͏̢̻͓̫̟͓̬͔͉̜̟͖͚̪͙͘ ͊̇͑́͐̽͗̃̓̍̆͐͂̋ͨ́͋͏̸̨̢̺͇̪̬̟̙͎͙̺̠0̧̗͔̮̼̮͌̉̔̃̓ͧ͒ͫ̿ͫ͌̽̌̽̿ͭ̓̕͢1̴͛̾̉̔̋ͦ͒ͬ͋̿͌҉̙̯̖̻͕͖̫̙͚̤̖͍͎͇̕0̰̦͇̝̹̽ͫ͂̆̂͡0͆ͫ̽͊͋̈́̃ͥͬͤ̓͋ͪͤͤͥ̓̆̃͏̨̧͓̝̞̳̻̪͚̘̹̼̬̪̝̰̀1̉̆͗̂ͦ̽̃̆͊͂̑͗͗̅̚͏̵̲̗̝͔͕̩̱͖1̶̢̠̪̫̺̗͎̙͖͎͎͍̤͙̱̘̝̀̿͛̋͋͋ͥͦ̑̿ͥ͛ͧ̓͋͒̾́̚̚͟͞1̶̢̗̺͇̉ͯ̏̉ͨͫ̃ͪ̈́̓̎ͨ͊̈́̿͡1̶̥̤̞̹̫͉̩̪̼̠ͥͯ͑͊ͬͨ̃̂͑̍͋ͯ͞ ̥̠̠̬̖͍͚̭̙̪̤͙͓̦͕͔̳̌̇̋͒̀́͘0̸̸̧̫͉̟͚͙̟̞̺̙̮͙̼̄̃͗̿ͬ̊́̽̋͋͋0̵̧̦̖͖̙̱͋ͧ̑̄͑̊ͧͭ̀̓̔̚1̤̰̦͇̭̠͓̈́̄͑̍͗̎̃̃̂͐̾͋̓͌̆̔̃͂͟͟͡0̡̗̬̪͈̣ͯ̋ͥ̃̕͡͠0̛̳̬̣͙̜͔̭̹͉̺͓̜͎͚̤̑̋ͥ̂͋́ͧ͒̓̄̂͂̅̍ͧ͋̚͝ͅ0̶̨̹̲̞̻͕̔̓͊ͨ̈́ͭ̈ͦͯ̎̌̄̌͠ͅͅ0̭̞͕̾̒͐ͦͩ̂̓̿͢͝1ͤ̋̃̓̊̒͊͑ͥͬ̔ͬͨ͗̒́̋͏̢̺̪̻̦̲̟͔̻̤͚̺̹̀

"I love you."

0̵̶̨̛̛̰̦͍̻̪͈̼̰̺̿̓̐ͤ̀̂ͦ̎̓́̔ͮ1̛̩̟͚͚̞̦ͣ̃ͭ̔̑͐ͫ̉̔͒͂ͧ͘͢͜ͅ0̷̢́̋ͦ̎̃̇̋ͣͦ͘҉̖̘̤̠͉͔1̸̢̃͂ͩ͒̊ͩ̆ͩ̏ͥͨ̾ͩ̅ͣ͗̚͜͏̼̝͕͕̼̜̩1̵̴̸̫̘̱̰͚̮̲̲̦͖̙͙͎̝̓ͨͦͧ̚͜͡ͅ0̴̶̛̙̬̱̺̟̞̬̝͖̺̙̓̿͒ͮ͋̌̀̋0̢̡͉̭̲̹͇̪̪͇̘͕̞̮̣͖̻͔̄̏͛ͭ̒ͩ̍̅̇́̚͡1̬͖̻͎̰̬̓ͬ̄̓ͧͨ͒ͬ̏ͯ́͠ ͣ͒ͣͤ̓̊̅͐̔̈́̂̈҉̧̲̙̖͓̣̻̦͙̟̖͇͈̳̹̱̕͜ͅͅ0͔̞͉͙̤̯̪͈͚͎̯̪̯̣͍̘̞̓̾̽͛̓̓ͣ̔̇ͬͤͨ̎̑͌̂̅̈́͆̀͞͡1̶̪̱͍͎̗͚̞̤̫̜͕̺͙̮ͤͤ̋̆͑͒͂̚͢͡͠0̧̦̞̤͉̬͍̖̦̰͚͈̎ͮͤ̆͛̉͑̍́͛ͨ̚͘͢0̵̋̑ͩͧ͊̅ͭͮ̂͒͟͞͏͚̱͔̝1̱̞̺͇͚͍̈́ͪ̅̇̅ͫͩ͒̃͑̏͌ͦ͌̍̽̀̚͠͝1̝̖̭̖͇̝̮̞̣͈͙͇̪̹̲̮̤̬͆̾̽ͨͭ̾̕͡1̴̧̜̤̟̜͕̱̗̏̃ͯ͂ͯ̇̌̽̎̃͌ͩͣͮ͢͟1̸ͫͦͪͪ̔̍̾̽̓́̌́͡҉̩͈̖͍̤͔͇͇͎̣͉̺͔ ̷̵̢̱̼̜͈͍̠̣̲̲̜̣̭͓͔̲̣͈͔̂ͭ͒̈́̃͊̓̈́̓̏̄̍̆̈́̄̿̀̚ͅ0͖͓̼̜͎̼͉̫͚̮̥͙̺̯̟̽̔͑ͦ̽̇̓̿ͩͬ͜͢1̨̖͓̬̬͎̗̳͍̰̹̐̈́̓̋̈̐ͦ͊̀̈́̒̃͗̒ͣ̓͘ͅ0̸̸̟̖̼̖͎̊͗ͫ̄ͮ͋͢1̶̭̞̝̹̜̦̬̐̈̀̈̌͢͢0̵̻̘̞͂̔͆̾̏͗̀̇̎̾͞1̶̞̩͇̜̄̈́ͫͪ̔ͥ̎̍͗̾́ͪ̌̈́͒͜͞0̡̡̯̪̯̳̗̰ͯ͌͆̏͛ͪ̂̈͒ͥ̅̀̈́̚͘͟1̱͈̗̗̰̮̹̠͖̲̗̙͚̯̗͐ͮ̓̀̒̔̍̃͌͊̾̈͘ ̧̛̘̩̩̲̤̲̳͈͈͚̔͒̓̽ͭͬͣ̓͐̀ͣ̍̈́͘͢͝0͔͎͉̹̖͚̖͙̫̳̮̭̺͚̯͑͑̀̓ͩ̑̎͛̒̆͗̃ͪ̈͌̂̕͟0̻͈̖̬͓̫̟͖̼̠͒́̏ͨ̋̚͢͢ͅ1̄̑̒͋̍͌̒̿̏̑́҉̖̤̰̹̞̜̜͘͟0̶̵̶͇̘̮̬̻ͨ̄ͬ͑ͤ͊ͧ̑̔̋ͧ̈ͧ̿́ͣ̈́0̀̿̑́҉͓̝̯̦1ͧ̈́̊̅͋̾̈́̄͑̒̆̀ͮ̄̾̿ͥ͌̚҉̸͔̻̟̦͎1̷̵̸̟̼͍̯ͫͭ͑̄̉ͧ̐ͣ̐ͥ͌͗ͦ̆͛́̀͞1̷̷̦̟̮̬̻͔̜̱͉̳͍̤͇͐͌ͪ̔̽͛ͭ͐̂́̓̀̓̾̎ͨͥ̽̀͘ͅ ̛͐̽͌̿̋͂ͭͧ͑ͪͨ̃ͥ͛̕͝҉̟̺͉͓̥̭͖̳ͅ0ͭͬͩ̾̋̈́ͩͬ̈͐̿̉̆̾̏͆́̚͏҉̢̙͉͖̤̼̼̪̭͍͈͜1̡͕̙̰͚̹̞̜ͨͤ̂ͭ̀͠0͍̭͓̜̦͉̲̺̖̃ͦ͌ͧ̿͊ͨ̍́ͥ̔̀͞͡͠͝1̷̫̣̳̖̱̥͚̯͕̮ͪ͆̊̇͗̅̐͐̍̄̎̏ͪ͒ͤͩ̃͢0͓͔̺ͩ̎̆̅͒̃̑̍̊̋̾͜0̸̨̪͇̪̤͖̮̤̭̹̰̦̣̫͇̦͍̃̑̓̔̃ͮ̇͂̔̾̆̅̍ͦ͌͗͟1̸̵̦̯͇̯̝̘͍̬̰̳̲͕̲̝͉͕̖̀͂̉͛ͩ͆ͥ̌ͫ͂̈͆ͣ̋̒͌͑̚̚0̷̧͓͎̭͎̞͙͇̭͕͎̜̘̘͇̈́ͦͧ̌̑̀̓ͪ͆̈́̌̑̊̂̓̏ͬ͆̄͠͠͡ ̵̨̧̛͇̭̞̙̩̯̰̟̖̹̥̭̜ͭ̿̑͗̇͆͒ͩͮͬ̃̆ͪͮ́̚0̴͔̜̝̿̊̍͋͋ͣ͟͠͝ͅ1̥̲̳̣̮͕̗̹̮̹͍̺͚̙͚ͯ́͒̽̄͘͡ͅ0̴͖͎̱͇ͬͣͬͭ͒ͫ͗͑̌̀̕0̷̖̬̳̫̲͈̭̘̲̤̫̖̬̖̼̳̪̰̐͑̍ͤ͌͘̕͟0̧̢͇͚̗̥̦̭̭̦̉̍̊̐̚͢͠͞1̨̡̻̻̖̜͚͈̥̯̥̘̲͉͓͉̻̳̙̹̹ͩ̌͌͑̓̐̾͋̋͌ͮ̊͆͆ͮ͗̐͊̕͟0̛̩̘̯̣̙̜͔̘ͩͧ͗̎̏̿̓̐ͧ̾́̕͜1̷̹͓͙̬͓͔̙̹̯͉͖̩͍͎̰̤͍ͫ͋̈́̽̀̆̓͑̉͐͐̒͒̅̎̎͛͡ͅͅ ̵̙̰̫̦̘͉̙͉̰̞̹̥͎͖̱͆ͥͯ͌̚͘ͅ0̇ͥͨ̋́͏̢̲̲̜̗͖̮̰͓̱0̛̠̣̬͔̲̜̭͉͔͉̈͆̑̈̂͛̉̆̕͘1̵̷̵̺̜͉̝̭̖͖̣̰͖̝̪͓̎̋ͨͯ̓̑ͤ͋̚0̵̑̎͋ͩ̈́ͣ̐̈́̒̀ͩ͐̀͗̏ͨ͜҉͇͇̻̲̲͚̻̯̯̟̬͈͙̪0̨̠͍͚̲̺̺̮̩̤̳̱̹̯̫͇͚͇̒́̑̃̄̋ͪ̋ͬ̕͘͡ͅ0ͤ̈́̎̿̌͐̆̐̂̉҉҉͖̦̭̝͚͇͎̦̫̟͉̣0̨̆̑ͨ̋̑ͤ̈̍͌̓͂̍̑̾͊̏̉̒̚͟͏̶͔̤̘̺̳͔̩͕̪̪̪0̮͎̖̩̪͖͈͖̖̦͍̥̗̪̗͇̗̦͗̏̌ͥ̌̋ͯ̋͆́̚͘ ̴͈̘̩̮͌ͯ̓͛̊̈́̾̓̀̚0̶̵̸͓̭͓̲̏̐ͬ̌ͯ͛͝ͅ1̶̧̛̪̰͎̖͚̺̄̃̅ͥ̒ͧͥͦͭ̚͝0̸̻̪̘͙͈̰͍̺͕̲̮͓̰̭͍ͦ͌̊̑͒̂̌̇͒̔̑̕͠0̆ͮ̀ͭ̇̀̚͘͏̪̯̼̩̱̬̼̹̠1̨̛͓̭̹͉̣͚͌͒̅͗̓́̓͒ͣ̋̂̐̿̄̐ͥ́̚̚ͅ1̷͛̌̿̌̐͏̣͇̻͚͎̼̯̠͎̰̫0̴̛̼̲̪̝̮̮̟̹͖͍̟̬̭̫͖̯͇ͣ͋ͦͧ̓͢1̨̼͙̹̼͈̭̗̗̝͚̤͌̋̆͗ͦ̌͠ ̢͖̫̲͉̬͉̳̩̪̹̞̪̳͓͍̪̜̍́̊̉̅̍̊̎͑ͥ̅̾̌͟ͅ0͊̓͋ͦͫ̂ͯͨ̒̄̽ͥͪͤͫ͌͏̺͖̣̪̕1̵͓̞͍̜͖̫̦̙͙ͫͦͪ̑̅̾͌͊͆ͣͮ̉͆̒̚͢͠ͅ0̨͍̳͙̝͈͐ͤͣ͌̃̈̆̽̌͆̏͑͌́̌ͩͨͩͨ0̈́̎ͮ͛҉̴̴̫̣͔̤͎̥̩̝͙͍̖̪̠̭̲͍̗́1̢̮̪̼̰̘̩̗̻̱̥̘̲̖͍̜͇͊͑ͭ̉̅̉̑ͬ̉̚̕͜͡0̛͍̖̩̟̙͎̱̖͓̲͗͒͋́̀̀0̶̶̬̠͙̯̱̹͖̱̼͈͓̋͆͆̏̏͑1̝̳̲̻̯̼̰̤̞̤̈̄ͬͥ̏ͯ̓͗̾̓ͥ͌ͫͬ̎ͪ̏ͫ̌̕͞ͅ ̸̢̼̫̠̖͓̖̱̼̹ͩ̀͋ͯͨ͑̌̇͒͂́̅̚0̶͖̰͍̦͚̳̯̲̞͚̦̼̤͚̼͚̞͐ͯ̾ͦ̂ͧͨ̀͟͞͝͞1ͯ͐ͫ̍͏̧̛͍͙̲̘̤͙͍́ͅ0̸̷̛̇̌ͭ̄̓̚̚͟҉̤͇̝͇̠̦̺͚͍͔͎͎͇0̴̨̤̘̟͍̹͈̣̹̗̦̩̙̮͙̩̝̤͙͗ͦ̂̈́́̍͂̚̕͠1̶̾̿ͦ͂̽̅̀͏̼̺̦̗̭͉̮̥1̷̞̯͙͍̥͈̺̞͈̻̪̉͂ͥͮ͊̕ͅ1̶̦̩̺̭͎̳͉̘̳̥ͣ͗̑ͤ̌ͧ͐͠ͅͅ0̖̰̘̤̭̙͆͊͂̾͋̃̎ͥ̃̽ͫ̄̾ͦ̃͑̽ͭ͋̕͜ ͮͭ̐̂̃̋ͯ̓͑ͧ̄͛̐ͮ̾ͨ̉͡͏̛̬͉͍̗͎̦̮̝̩̯̭̩̫̝͙͎͘͟0̛̣̥̬͔̮̜̀ͨͥ̏͌͛ͥ͑ͥ̓̑̇́ͪͬͮ̕̕1̷̠̞̤͙̱ͫ̌̌ͧ͋́0̷̨̨̿͑ͪͧ҉̫͚͓̙̭͚̮̭͚̜̹̟̼͈̤͚̥̠0̴̢̮̹̠̝̹͖̠̭̰̝̖̝̟̟̇̋̾̓̽͂̀ͤ͊ͭ̓ͯ͊̀0̷̵̸̭̭̱̲͓̪̝̤̖̻͙̺̰̮̭̯ͧ̉͛̈1̊̔͂͆̀ͭ҉͎̜͓͕̜̩̬͍͎͎̖͇͈͚̳͠ͅͅ0̶͇̺̯̬̳͇̹͔͈̙̳̦͚͓̪̙͎̽ͦ͂̂̆ͥ͋̓ͬ1̶͍͓̻̰̙͖̝̦̙̙̣͔ͩ̂̏̃̈ͤͭ͜͞ͅ ̷̣͓̳̙̫͚̠̻̑̓̑̇ͦ̎ͧ̾́͆͑ͨ̓̋́̎̋ͪ̀͘0̸̳̳̪̬̩ͫͧ͑̊̅͋̅̿ͤ̈́̏ͪ́͠͞ͅͅͅ0̸̡̖̭͇̰̱̪̊ͫ̌̈́͒̄́̈́̒̔ͥ̄ͯ̚1̆̒̓̅̌̌̔͊ͥ͊̓̚͏̘̰̲͚̫̘̮̝͙͕̀͞0̶̸̴̲̟̞͓͔̱̫̤͍͎̯̦͕̺̭̦̿̔̅ͬ0̸̻̝͖̟̰̤ͨ̊̅ͦ̋ͥ̾ͣ̔ͪͮͣͭ͌̿ͦ͘͢0̴̧̡̳͉̰̣͔͖̱̺̞ͣ̅̏̐́́͌̊͌̔͞0ͯ͂ͮ͊͛͢͠҉̟͉̲̻̺̦̟̙̩̫͓͉̝͇͙͚͉͉1̻̲̭̳̹̳̭̒ͪ̿ͮͬ̽ͧͪ̐̏́ͧ̄͗ͫͥ̇̄̅̀͡͠ͅ

"I love you too, baby."

Their next kiss was languid, chaste almost; if it weren’t for the moan that slipped through Connor’s mouth when Hank delicately bit his lower lip and pulled.

For a while after that, they just stared into each other’s eyes, dopey smiles on both their faces. Connor hugged Hank tightly.

"I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Lieutenant." He didn’t miss how the title made Hank’s heart skip a beat.

"Yeah. See you, darlin’."

Connor climbed out of the car through the driver’s side door. Before he disappeared inside his apartment, he blew a playful kiss Hank’s way, which Hank smiled at and returned with a wave.

Only much later did Connor realise that after that last message the angry buzzing in his head ceased. Somehow, it filled him with dread.

In case you didn't check it on your own already (I know I keep "binary to text" translator open in another tab whenever I read DBH fanfics) the binary says "NO! YOU'RE MINE!"

[afangirlwashere]

Risk pt.3 (Peter Parker x superhero!reader)

(gif is not mine all the credit goes to the creator)

Summary: Two months have passed now. Friendships were strengthened by sharing embarrassing photos and spending weekends together. What comes next? What if a mission goes wrong? 

A/N: I am.. Not that happy with this one IDK why.. Just had a hard time translating it from my native language. This is the last part, for now, I might decide to pick it back up later because I have a few more ideas for this series but we’ll see... All of the feedback, reblogs, etc. mean a lot to me so THANK YOU!! Requests are open as always you can check my list of characters I write for here <3

Warnings: Infinity war spoilers!! other than that nothing really. there’s a little swearing.

part 1  part 2  part 4

(you can listen to this song while reading)

________________________________________________________________

“Oh no...” Ned whimpers.

“Yep...” Peter nods and dodges a flying paper ball in the hallway. 

“Dude... If she already saw THAT photo it’s over. Even I contemplated not being friends with you after I saw it!” Ned throws a big pile of books in his locker and closes it “It’s the most embarrassing thing I ever saw. Why does your aunt always has to show it? Why do you let her? And why didn’t you like... ‘accidentally’ burn it or ‘made it disappear’?”

“Because it’s one of the few photos that my dad took of me. She loves all of them but this one especially. I can’t get rid of it. I can’t do that to her.” he explains.

Ned slowly nods “Yeah that would be a dick move.” they just stand next to his locker for a second “But Mr. Stark didn’t see it right?” 

Peter looks horrified “God no! No, no, no, no that’s the first thing I told May after he left our apartment, he can never see that photo! He’d call me panty liner for the rest of my life.” 

“Okay panty liner my locker isn’t waiting for her period to come any time soon so if you could stop protecting it and move away that would be great.” (Y/N) appears out of a sudden. 

Peter steps away from her locker while Ned laughs his ass off. 

“Sorry... I couldn’t pass the opportunity. And I’m kind of getting MJ’s manners, we’ve been hanging out a bit more lately.” (Y/N) pushes her hair to one side and lets her whole profile exposed to the boys.

Peter’s eyes are glued to her the whole time she looks for her textbook and heads to class wawing at the boys without looking at them and muttering something as a temporary goodbye. 

“You’re not very smooth with that puppy-eyed expression Peter. I think if I’ll have to watch your tortured lovesick face for more than two months I’m gonna have to keep a barf bag around.” Michelle creeps up behind.

“You should have seen him last weekend when we watched Stranger Things. (Y/N) fell asleep next to him and was slowly falling on his shoulder. ‘Ned what do I doo?’ the panic in his eyes... It was hilarious.” Ned laughs.

“It was stressful okay? I never had this happen to me! I didn’t know what to do, I still don’t know!” Peter defends himself.

“You should just tell her,” MJ says like it’s obvious.

“I’ve been telling him the whole time!” Ned cheers “She’s intelligent, hard-working, pretty, you have a lot in common,” he winks “she can literally tell you the history of the whole world, loves building legos - I still can’t believe she rebuilt the Millenium Falcon in one day when she accidentally knocked it down and broke it - loves to watch Avatar: The Last Airbender - we have to have another re-watch together sometime - and she’s super funny!” 

“I mean.. I don’t really give much recognition to other’s but... (Y/N) is one of the people in this school that I don’t actually hate. She’s pretty cool. And Ned is right she’s hilarious.” Michelle gives her point of view. 

“Yeah, she had a funny remark just now about that super embarrassing pho-”

“Dude!” Peter interrupts him. 

“What?” Ned shrugs.

MJ frowns “You mean that super embarrassing naked picture when you were three and put a bunch of panty liners all over your body, even covering your small pen-” 

“Did (Y/N) tell you about it?!” Peter’s voice cracks halfway.

“No, she didn’t Kermit.” she uses the old nickname for Peter “Ned did. A while ago actually.” 

“Ned!” Peter angrily grunts. 

“I’m sorry! It slipped and she can be really scary when she needs to be!” Ned backs away a bit. 

“I tried to draw it once because I couldn’t really imagine it.” Michelle blurts out receiving two concerned looks from the boys. 

“You’re really weird y’know?” Ned says. 

“Yeah... I get that a lot from other people.” Michelle squints her eyes at them.

________________________________________________________________

After two months of catching up (Y/N) is at least a decent student. Not the top of the class though. That position is reserved for people like Flash and Peter.

Flash is all rich, privileged and snobby. A modern bully truly.  There were a few times when he provoked Peter so much that it would be understandable for him to throw a punch but he never did. If anything he backed away trying to disappear.

(Y/N) spoke to him about it once.

“Why do you let him do that? A punch in the face would handle it and we’d never hear from Flash again I guarantee you that. You would have the upper hand.” 

“And that’s why I can’t do it even if I wanted to. It wouldn’t be fair. I have these powers not to hurt people but to protect them. I would love to do all sorts of sports but with my strength, it would be unfair to have such an advantage.” Peter explained.

“You’re ripping yourself off of all the high school experiences that way.” (Y/N) argued.

Peter just shrugged “It’s the superhero burden I have to take. I wouldn’t punch Flash even if I was a normal teenager. That’s not me.”

(Y/N) clenched her teeth “But that’s me. I’m breaking his nose next time.” 

“You can’t do that! They would call your parents and they’d have to come in to talk to the principal!” he freaked out.

“The only person that would have to come to the principal’s office would be Mr. Stark. He’s the one responsible for me now. And I’m pretty sure he’s wealthier  than Flash's parents.” 

Peter is the opposite of Flash.  He doesn’t come from a rich family, he’s not arrogant or privileged because of the money on his bank account.  He’s caring and does whatever he can to help anyone even when it’s not in his power. 

(Y/N) noticed that whenever an ambulance or a police car passes the school and its sirens reach to their classroom Peter’s eyes fly to the window and he gets all nervous and starts to wiggle in his chair.  He wants to go out there and be helpful. It surprised her how much he searches for danger. 

But his caring side stretches out even more. They meet up every week at least twice to do some school work. It benefits both of them. Peter can’t jump in his suit and go be Spider-Man since he has to stay and do his work plus help (Y/N). And she has a place without distractions (until Ned comes) and basically gets a tutor.

Peter is a great teacher. He explains everything with so much patience it amazes her. Seven times is his record in explaining one thing. 

They are slowly developing a tradition with aunt May. Every Thursday (Y/N) stays for dinner sometimes joined by Ned too. 

When May found out (Y/N) lived alone in her own apartment without any parental supervision she almost had a heart attack. Let’s say Mr. Stark had to deal with a very long furious phonecall but when he explained how everything works and how he makes sure that she’s got everything she needs it calmed her down at least a bit. 

For a moment she even considered having her move to the Parkers. In the end, they negotiated that she’ll be having dinner with them every Thursday and if she ever needed she can come to their place at any hour of the day. 

“24/7 calling service. If you ever need to talk I’m here for you sunshine.” May’s heartwarming smiles always lightened her mood. 

It’s obvious where Peter got his caring side from. 

It’s currently Wednesday 11PM which sounds like the best time to start writing an essay that’s due tomorrow right?  Thankfully for (Y/N), it was a history essay which shouldn’t be as hard. 

Legs hanging from her bed dangling in the rhythm of the song playing in her earbuds make her stay awake. 

Just ten minutes into vomiting words onto the page she hears a loud thud on her window that couldn’t drown in the beats of the music. 

(Y/N) turns to the window suddenly wide awake. It sounded like a bullet. Thankfully Mr. Stark made sure all the windows are going to be bulletproof so as long as they stay closed she’ll be fine. 

Her lazy ass didn’t close the blinds, therefore, the blood smeared handprint is the first thing she sees. 

She throws her laptop on the bed and runs over to the window. 

There he is. 

Lying on her fire escape stairs. 

Spider-Man.

“Peter?!” (Y/N) shrieks while tugging at the window to open it as wide as possible “Can you get up? I have to get you inside.” she holds her hand out and he shakily clutches it. 

It takes them a minute before Peter slips through the window into her warm room. 

His suit is torn on so many places it looks more like a weird piece of clothing sewed from rags. There’s dried up blood on all the cuts and fresh on his hands. Whoever he was fighting must have hit some of his suit's systems which were powering the heater since Peter was shivering.

“What the hell happened?!” 

While pulling off the Spider-Man mask he reveals his beaten up face full of bruises. He even managed to cut up his eyebrow. 

(Y/N) covers her mouth in shock and stares at him. 

“I-I’m sorry I couldn’t go home because May would have freaked out and I panicked! If she saw me like that-”

“Get that suit off and take a shower.” (Y/N) starts pushing him to the door.

Peter looks surprised at how calm her voice sounds all of a sudden and does as she tells him. 

(Y/N) gives him an old big unisex shirt that she wears at home to change into. She doesn’t have any pants for him here so he has to stay in his boxers. 

After ten minutes he comes back to her room looking ashamed of himself.  (Y/N) sits on her bed bitting her nails and nervously hitting the bed frame with her foot.  She was considering calling Tony or his aunt the whole time he was in the shower. What if he has internal bleeding or something else neither of them can recognize. 

“There was... a lot of blood... But I cleaned it all off! You don’t have to worry about it...” he whispers the last sentence. 

He feels bad for putting her under such pressure.

(Y/N) quickly stands up and walks over to him.

She touches his bicep “Are you hurt here?” 

“No-oww!” Peter whimpers when she punches him with all her strength. 

“What the hell were you thinking?! Who the fuck were you going against?! You should have called me for backup there’s strength in numbers! God, you’re such an idiot Peter what if something worse happened to you? Huh...? Start thinking before you go in!” 

Maybe I should have gone to aunt May, Peter thinks to himself. 

“And now sit down I have to sew up your eyebrow and disinfect all your wounds.” (Y/N) commands him still pissed off and he can’t do anything but listen.

“I’m sorry...” Peter whispers when (Y/N) sprays in his cuts.

“Am I missing any?” she completely ignores his apology which is a sign for him to try harder. 

“There’s one on my back. It bled the most.” he turns around and pushes his shirt up.

“Oh my god Peter...” (Y/N) mumbles lightly touching a giant gash on Peter’s back making him groan in pain “This is going to hurt badly but you have to take it. You should have bled out due to this but I think all your healing powers are concentrating on this big cut because it looks like it’s already sealing. I’m not even gonna sew it, it would have been unnecessary pain.” 

When they finish this painful thing they move on to sewing.  Peter isn’t the biggest fan of needles but he trusts (Y/N). He’s not sure where she learned to do it but when he sees how precisely she threads the eye of the needle he knows he’s in good hands. 

Their faces are inches away from each other now.

Ever since (Y/N) got him out of that...place Thanos put him in he trusted her with his life more than anyone. His first instinct was to go to her when he got hurt. He couldn’t help but feel safe around her.  The need to protect her was there too even though she proved that she’s more than capable of taking care of herself. 

Before he can organize all his thoughts she’s already cutting the thread and checking his eyebrow for the last time. 

“(Y/N) I am really sorry. I didn’t want to scare you like that. Honestly, it’s the last thing I wanted to do. I feel like an absolute idiot now.” Peter tries to apologize again.

“You are an idiot. But you always do the heroic thing, Peter... Always. And that’s one of the things I like about you. You sacrifice yourself for others, you never show off even when you have all the right to do it, whenever there’s a crime you’re there in a second and you don’t care if you have an army behind your back or if you’re all alone against a thousand bad guys. You’d still fight them. And that’s what heroes do. But that’s also what idiots do. And since May isn’t here,” she leans forward and kisses the sewed up cut on his eyebrow “Someone has to do it. It probably doesn’t have the same power as hers would but... At least something.” 

Peter’s heart starts racing. He gently takes her hand before she pulls away from him “Wait.” this is the first time she let him touch her without flinching since he’s been back in the world of the living.

Her skin is soft which makes Peter’s throat feel dry. 

He hears Ned’s, May’s and Michelle’s voices in his head. 

Dude! Kiss her! 

Come on Peter!

You’re brave enough to fight with a bunch of criminals but you don’t have the courage to kiss a girl? Don’t be a loser Parker.

Peter has the same puppy-eyed expression. His big hazel eyes looking right at her make her cheeks feel hot. 

“I-I just wanted to thank you for this. Not just this! But... but everything you do for me not just now but in school too and that you have my back and I can count on you when something happens and...” Peter knows he’s babbling again. There’s nothing he can do about it. This is just how he deals with nervousness. 

“I should be the one thanking you. If you didn't tutor me I would probably fail chemistry. With my skills? I’d be sent back to middle school.” (Y/N) chuckles. 

Peter is still holding her hand and it makes her skin burn with anticipation. 

“That was nothing really. I actually enjoyed it! Going through the basics again with you was fun so it’s not such a big deal! You do a lot more for me! I don’t know where I’d be without you (Y/N) and I just wanted to thank you for all-”

“Come on...” she interrupts him because it’s nerve-racking to listen to his nervous babbling.  

“What?” he’s dumbfoundedly looking at her with his big eyes. 

“Kiss me!” (Y/N) feels like she’s going to explode if she won’t finally feel his lips against hers. 

Peter’s face changes into the one she was slowly falling in love with over those two months. It’s full of deep affection, his torn up eyebrow turning just the right way and the way light glistens in his eyes...

He finally leans in and connects their lips. 

And did the fireworks explode at that moment?

No.

It feels like there are stars exploding inside them. No, galaxies! The whole universe just exploded and they are the only ones left.  Even though they are just two teenagers kissing in a room. That’s how it feels. 

Peter’s hand moves from her forearm to her shoulder. He always thought it would be awkward and he wouldn’t know what to do with his hands but they instinctively move to her neck pulling her even closer to him.

(Y/N) tangles her hand in his hair and cups his face with the other. She doesn’t want the kiss to end. This moment can’t end.

Peter is overflown with pleasure wrapping a hand around her waist drawing her closer. 

Eventually, they have to move away from each other both panting with hungry expressions.  The second their heads stop spinning both of Peter’s hands wrap around (Y/N)’s waist again and she plays with his hair.

He gently places her on the bed enjoying how she looks under him for a moment.  They both examine each other's faces from a new angle for a second and it seems they like the change. 

(Y/N) pulls Peter in for another kiss while she ventures with her hand under his shirt sending chills all over his body.  She starts to pull it up as a sign she wants it off and he understands perfectly. 

He puts all his weight on his knees and swiftly throws the shirt somewhere on the ground. Before he can steal another kiss (Y/N) puts her palm on his chest and stops him.

She sees his whole torso for the first time which looks like a minefield of bruises and cuts after tonight.

“You don’t have to worry... It almost doesn’t hurt... promise.” Peter mumbles. 

Seeing her wistful gaze makes him feel a whole new emotion he can’t explain yet.

(Y/N) changes their positions in one brisk movement being the one on top now. Peter looks almost shocked at the sudden change. Maybe even a little scared.

(Y/N) lowers her lips to his arm and gives a long kiss to one of the bigger bruises slowly making her way down his body treating every bruise the same. 

Peter can’t stop himself from letting out a few moans. This is the first time he’s experiencing something like this and it is so much better than he imagined it to be. 

She stops right at his bellybutton viewing a cut that’s just above his V-line. Peter notices she stopped so he opens his eyes and looks at her.  It takes him a second to realize what she’s thinking about. 

“We don’t have to do it. I would never pressure you into it, we don’t have to rush it.” he tries to reassure her. 

“I know.” she nods still buried in her thoughts “Just promise me you won’t endanger yourself like that again so that moment can actually happen.” her eyes lock with his. 

Peter stays silent. He’s not answering because they both know he can’t promise her that and he’s not going to lie to her either.

“I’d kiss your whole back too but I think that would be a weird position to be in..” (Y/N) moves up to his face “But I hope this will make up for it.” her lips slowly travel from his neck to his lips. 

This kiss is slower and they’re both enjoying it as much as possible. 

After a few more exchanges like this (Y/N) rests her head on Peter’s chest listening to his strong stable heartbeat.

He rests his chin on her head and breathes in the scent of her hair which overwhelms his senses. Seems like coconut is his favorite smell now. 

With their feet and hands tangled they both peacefully fall asleep.

Some risks were taken.

But there’s nothing to rush, right? 

Tag list: @adventurousbooknerd  @yafriendlyfangirl @royalestrellas

[bathroom-pass]

hey um do you have any tips for someone who wants to look masculine but can’t exactly do contouring or buy from the men’s section? i’m 14 and my parents are very transphobic but dysphoria is hell

Sorry about your parents, anon!  This is obviously going to be general advice, but here we go:

straight leg or athletic cut jeans hug your figure less than skinny or flared joggers are always read as more masculine, even if they come from the women’s section

Layers!  Open button-up shirts, jackets, or closed vests can help to hide whatever sort of chest you have, and wear them over crew-neck shirts rather than v-neck. 

Patterns!  Graphic tees are better than plain, and patterned button-ups are often even better because they’re typically not clingy fabric.

A slightly-too-large watch is a good accessory, get the widest band you can that doesn’t look cartoonish on your wrist.

If you can, bind.  DO NOT use Ace bandages, they’re designed not to expand and can do serious damage to your ribs, lungs, and connective tissues that can mess you up for a lifetime.  Get a binder if you can, tight-but-correctly-fitted sports bras (without separate cups) if you can’t.  Do not double bind, it does the same thing that Ace bandages do.  Dance tops are like sports bras but high compression, and they look more feminine if you need that to get it past your family.  If worse comes to worst, {here} is a tutorial for binding with a camisole (although that’s only going to work if you’re rather flat-chested naturally).

Boots give you height and often make your feet look a little bigger, but don’t buy anything too much too big or you wind up looking like you’re wearing clown shoes.  If you don’t like boots, Converse are very unisex, especially black ones.  Somewhat pricey, but they last more or less forever if you’re good to them.  Because they’re so narrow, they often have to be a little longer than your feet actually are, which can help with that as well.

Pay attention to how the boys at your school style their hair, there are bound to be some who have the same length hair you do, and copy those styles with your own hair.

If packing is a thing that would help you, {here} is a really basic, really discreet way to pack with a sock.

On that note, “boyshorts” or occasionally “girltrunks” (why, marketing, why?) are underwear sold in the women’s section that look like men’s boxer briefs.  Some even have a fly, you’ll just have to look (go on an explore with a friend to your preferred shop before you have to go back-to-school shopping with your parents or something).  If you need an excuse to want those, because they have short legs, they reduce chafing in the crease of your thighs on hot and sticky days.

Shark Week, double up on underwear- an interior pair of “women’s” that has the place to attach a pad if you need it, or whatever your preferred sanitary method is, and then manlier underwear on the outside.  That gives you protection (double protection!) and also can help with the dysphoria.

Hats, like snapbacks and plain beanies, give you an option to tuck your hair into if you can’t cut it.  See how your male-aligned classmates wear theirs, and do the same (it’s different at different schools, weirdly).

A belt with a larger buckle helps to disrupt the appearance of hips (we have a submission queued for Monday morning that’s a really good example of a belt like I’m talking about), you want large but plain, generally.

As much as parents dictate the lives of our under-18 population, I want you to remember that it’s not forever, and they do not dictate your identity.  You are what you say you are, and no one else can change that.  Your appearance, even if it can’t match your identity right now, does not disqualify that you are the only person who gets a say in how you identify.  I wish you all the best, anon, and I hope this is helpful.

(Feel free to write back or send in photos for more specific advice, we can also answer privately if you tell us to if that would help.)Good luck!

[freeventures760]

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[haberdashing]

What’s In A Name?

The story of one Elsewhere University student’s journey of self-discovery.

on AO3

Also on fanfiction.net (no link because filters)

It was the summer before senior year of high school when Sam, after a lot of introspection and almost as much Googling, realized they were agender. After they first learned about the term, after they read first-hand accounts from other people who identified that way, a lot of little things that they had either tried to ignore or had dismissed altogether suddenly slotted into place.

They didn’t tell anybody at first- afraid that their friends and family wouldn’t understand, afraid that this would all turn out to be just a phase- but they started going solely by the “nickname” of Sam rather than their all-too-gendered birth name. And when Sam started their college search, though they didn’t breathe a word of their newfound identity to their parents or guidance counselor or anyone else, they kept a look out for whether the schools on their radar were said to be good for trans students, whether they would likely be accepted or rejected by the student body at large.

And when Sam first heard of Elsewhere University, the school where students chose what to be called while attending, it quickly shot to the top of their list.

There were other reasons, of course. They were looking for a small school in a small town, and Elsewhere and the surrounding town of- Fairfield, was it?- certainly fit the bill; they wanted a school with an overall good reputation and a solid creative writing program, and Elsewhere had both; they wanted a school neither too close nor too far from home, and Elsewhere hit the sweet spot in between. But when Sam learned that going by a name besides one’s birth name was not only allowed but required at Elsewhere University, well, that just about sealed the deal.

When the application asked what that name would be if the student chose to attend, Sam jotted down the name Jordan. They didn’t think long and hard about it, didn’t worry themself much about its meaning or connotation, they just picked the first unisex name that came to mind and ran with it. (Later research would turn up some bits about the name that they liked, and other bits that they didn’t care for so much- but then, the same was the case for any number of other names they looked into.)

The acceptance letter came in due time, and Sam turned in their deposit almost immediately. It was happening; Elsewhere was in Sam’s future. After a summer that went by surprisingly fast they were on Elsewhere University’s campus, where only the parents that helped them unpack and left shortly thereafter knew them as anything but Jordan.

There was a rush, of sorts, that they felt every time their professors used the name “Jordan” to refer to them, the unisex name rolling off their tongues without the slightest bit of hesitation or uncertainty, a joy only slightly diminished when they found that the professors were similarly unfazed by classmates with names like Tequila or Goatpuncher5000.

On an impulse, “Jordan” came out to the first real friend they found on campus, worried for a brief but terrifying moment about being scorned for it but found only acceptance and more friends to come. Soon enough “Jordan” was fully out as agender on campus, and “Sam” responded to relatives and high school friends less and less as they got wrapped up in the euphoria of being somewhere where they could be themself through and through.

The school year went by quickly, a blur of late nights and tests and parties and contentment. Soon enough it was May, and almost time for their second round of finals, and they had so many friends at Elsewhere that the thought of leaving them all behind come summertime just about made their stomach turn. They were walking with a group of friends to dinner, still aching from their last rock climbing session, lagging behind the others just a little-

“Hey Jordan, hurry up a bit, would you?”

-and the last thing they wanted to do was move faster, but after hearing the friend’s call they did just that, without thinking, without even really noticing the increased speed at first, only noticing that their legs hurt more and more with every quickened step.

They wrote it off at first- they’d just picked up their pace a little at a friend’s urging, that was all, nothing so strange about that. But after dinner, legs still aching, when all they wanted to do was go lie in bed, a tall man who went by Boxer and who they shared a history class with said “Jordan, could you look over my essay for me? You’re good with words and all, and my essay’s kind of shit right now,” and they found themself hastily taking a seat next to Boxer rather than continuing to trudge towards their dorm room.

That night- after reading over Boxer’s essay which was in fact in pretty horrendous shape, giving a few pointers and excusing themself at the soonest possible opportunity- they thought about how they had mindlessly put an acquaintance’s desires before their own; they also thought about why the school had them all choose new names to begin with. The official school line was something about how they’d all grow closer together by shedding the names of their past, and that much seemed to ring true given their own experience, but there were rumors of other, darker reasons for the mandate. Some said that here at Elsewhere, knowing someone’s true name gave you total control over them. Some had whispered in near-empty hallways that if you used someone’s true name here, they would be forced to do whatever you asked, become their slave even, all because of the power of a name.

After ruminating on this issue some, after realizing that there was only one name which they really identified with anymore, after connecting those strange rumors to the equally strange reality of what had happened this evening, Jordan was forced to conclude that they were truly and utterly screwed.

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[teesturtle]

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[such-a-boy-blog]

tips for FtM. how to look masculine

first of all you need to understand that you are already a boy. inside but it`s more important than your physical appearance. love yourself and it`ll be alright.

okay, let`s go:

~every tip down the page is generalized and if you don`t like it - don`t do it. some things are very individual.~

·         find your perfect haircut. it may not be very short, cause you don`t need to have short hair to look masculine. just remember that you need to feel yourself confident with the chosen haircut. and don`t forget to think about how it will looks with your face shape, it is also very important. if needed consult with your hairdresser.

and of course you should ask your hairdresser how to care about your new haircut and what devices/cosmetics you need for it.

·         change your clothes.

underwear: buy binders or sport bras with high compression. chose smaller size, for example my size is M and i choose sports bras size XS. REMEMBER that you shouldn`t wear them more than 8 hours for your own safety. you also can wear special boxers with overlays but if you don`t look very masculine... it`s not worth it i think.

pants or jeans: in this aspect it all depends on your body type.  if you have big hips you better chose straight cut and vertical stripes. if your hips are thin you can chose skinny models but give preference to straight cut and vertical stripes too.

shirts and tops: you can buy men`s models or women`s it doesn`t matter cause many of them look the same. remember about stripes and tuck them in - it`ll make you look higher.

sweaters or hoodies: choose free tailoring and it`ll be okay.

shoes: sneakers, shoes "oxford", sandals, slippers... most of them are unisex. you can choose freely.

·         if you need, you can make your brows or other hair grow faster and be thicker. use oils (castor, burdock, almond, peach), vitamins D and E, broths (chamomile, calendula), mixes (carrot juice and vitamin A, honey and chilli) - these facilities are only for external application!!!

·         change your diet - eat testosterone producing products: fish, seafood, eggs, nuts, natural milk products, fruits and vegetables, red meat. avoid sweet, hot food, all the baked good, soy and gluten.

take vitamins especially zinc, selenium, vitamins of group B.

if you`ve already came out use appropriate pronounces and name. if no - don`t do it until you are ready. there are a lot of transphobic and abusive parents and maybe your friends. remember that you are valid and i love you.

 femininity is beautiful.

masculinity is beautiful.

androgyny is beautiful.

 YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL.

[webmuch]

Pride Month 2017: LGBTQ Fashion & Beauty In style

Happy Pride Month Everyone! Every year, Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender (LGBT) Pride Month is celebrated in June to honour the 1969 Stonewall riots. The riots, which took place in Manhattan, were a crucial tipping point for the Gay Liberation Movement in the U.S. So every year during this month, everyone around the world comes together to celebrate how far we have come since then. We show our full support for the LGBTQ community and we in particular love what the fashion and beauty industries have done this year. So many brands help out but raising money and awareness for the LGBT charities and we all need to appreciate it. During the entire pride month, we saw some amazing collaborations, collections, beauty products and got to know about several LGBT owned brands we never knew about.

We hope this month, next month and every month after will inspire you to help out the LGBTQ movement. Let’s stick together and stand up for love because after all love is love! Check out the all the LGBT glam below:

   L  G  B  T

   Life            gets                better           together

Pride Month 2017: LGBTQ Fashion & Beauty In Style

LGBTQ Owned Brands You Need To Know

We all know the amazing gay men that have really shaped the fashion industry over the years, by building these high-end brands for us. Women’s fashion has been taken to a whole new level because of them and we don’t know what the fashion industry would be like without them. But we all know a lot about them right? What you might not know are the small super cool designers killing it with their gender-bending clothing lines. You should check them out, especially during this time where we are celebrating pride month. Some of the LGBTQ owned brands are really worth checking out.  

Chromat

An American Fashion Label based in New York City was built by Becca McCharen in 2010. Fashion can help move the society forward and this is what this brand has done. Chromat is known for its innovative structural and angular clothing. They have also become very famous for its black clothing that features designs based on the structure of the human body. Becca McCharen is part of the LGBTQ community and has experiences discrimination. She says that her clothing is just like her being ‘queer’! Her experiences  and trials had formed her brand into what it is today. She makes sure her campaigns and models involve a range of different people from helping women, people of color and people of different sexual orientations. She wants to be able to break into the traditionally male-dominated fashion industry. Last year we saw this upcoming trend of inner wear becoming outerwear and this is what her brand represents as well. She is breaking all the boundaries of what should be worn where.

This pride month she says : “As fashion designers, we have the power to highlight and celebrate beauty in all different forms. Every fashion week is an opportunity to celebrate those inspirational people and have these incredible women and non-binary babes reflected in our runway show. It’s not a trend—it’s our life.”

Ready To Stare

Ready to Stare is a body positive apparel and accessory brand and personal style blog that was started By Alysse Dalessandro. Both the brand and the blog are designed for those who believe in following their passion, loving themselves and inspiring others to do the same. The brand is specifically oriented towards plus size females. Her aim was to create a brand for the people who were getting left out of the mainstream fashion lines.

Dallesandro says “I wanted to create a haven for those who get stared at because they’re different and who choose, instead of hiding, to stare back and keep shining,”

You must check out her “Thank You For Staring” look book, which is explicitly LGBTQ+ and size inclusive.

Play out

Play out believes in: BE OUT. PLAY IN STYLE. A queer owned fashion brand specifically designs gender-neutral underwear that is colourful, bold, playful and bursting with energy. The founder and designer of play out Abby Sugar says: “As a queer-owned brand, we knew that we wanted to create something for our LGBTQIA family, but also embody and proudly display who we are to the rest of the [heterosexual, binary-gendered] world.” Their brand is lesbian-inspired, gender-inclusive, free, sexy, and fun for women, men and people of all gender identifications. As they have grown their brand, Play Out have worked with men, women, trans- and gender-free individuals of all backgrounds, ethnicity, gender presentations and sexual orientations.

Tyler Wallach Studios

Tyler Wallach is such an inspiration, he is a creative and independent queer artist from Harlem, NY. He is well known for his bright and bold coloured street-art characters on both canvas and clothing. The brand brings out the best bold bright graphics to their clothing which features street characters and unisex designs that can be worn by people of gender. His compassion, love and care towards the LGBTQ community keeps him inspired to be the artist he is. He produces large-scale paintings every year that are donated and auctioned off by national LGBTQ charities with 100% of proceeds going to at-risk youth and anti-bullying efforts.

Tyler Wallach Studio is taking over the fashion game! Check out his vibrant and rebellion designs against the status quo!

Rebirth Garments

Rebirth Garments are designed and made by hand by Sky Cuba-cub, a QPOC (Gender queer Person of Color) from Chicago. Every garment is customised and all their brand campaigns feature models of all sizes and genders doing all sorts of splits and fun stuff in wheelchairs with oxygen masks. They are inclusive and representative in their imaginary and garment customization. The aim for the brand is to be able to give products accessible to queer crip youth along with being able to provide free/reduced priced garments for people in need. They believe Rebirth Garments has the power to give you the confidence and strength to feel comfortable in your first skin.  

Through the collection, people can confidently express their individuality and identity. This identity according to the brand is that of Queer Crip, meaning queer, gender non-conforming identities, visible and invisible disabilities/ disorders—physical, mental, developmental, emotional etc.

10 Fashion Brands That Are Giving Back To The LGBT Community

Around this time of the year as soon as we hit the month of June we see brands embracing the rainbow like never before. They all find their own unique and stylish ways to honour the start of pride month by releasing collections or limited edition products sporting the pride flag colors. As we mentioned before this is the time when these brands donate the proceeds to LGBTQ charities and organisations. We have put together the top 10 brands who have come out with the most beautiful products in support of LGBTQ people for Pride. Pride branding has really come a long way as the new generation has done so many things to make a difference. We see more brands than ever now using models of color and trans models to promote their brands, rather than going for big celebrities. Check out our favourite picks from this month:

Nike

Nike’s journey of supporting the LGBTQ community began in 2012 with their #BeTrue Collection in the wake of its marriage equality campaign. Ever since then Nike has provided approximately $2.5 million for financial and in-kind support for LGBT causes. They come out with the most amazing limited edition kicks and rainbow spins on some of their most popular shoes. They have taken a bold step with their #BeTrue2017 Collection where they suggest that rainbows are not the only gay symbol. They have paired it along with other symbols of Pride, such as the color pink and the triangle.

“Sporting your rainbow in the gym or on a run became a way to feel like you belonged to something larger – you were connected to being ‘out’ or being an ally. The rainbow has and always will be incorporated into the BETRUE product in some way.” – Robert Goman, LBGT Network Leader at Nike

Dr. Martins

We love what they are doing! Dr. Martins is donating $5 from every $145 pair of 1460 Pride Boots to the Trevor Project. This is a suicide hotline for LGBTQ youth. They are also going to be hosting Pride events all summer long to create a huge amount of awareness and give the LGBTQ community all the support they deserve. This funky colorful boots are totally taking us back to the 90`s. The shoe brand is associated with punk rock and these boots come with a message. On one boot there are words written across it such as LGBT+, LOVE and UNITY  On the other boot it has a rainbow pattern all over and both the boots come with bright rainbow laces.

American Eagle

American Eagle are really doing their part this year by donating 100% of the sales of its 2017 Pride Collection to benefit the It Gets Better project. Their collection for pride month includes t-shirts, boxer-briefs, boy briefs, a rainbow beaded choker and a hat. They have a campaign called #WeAllCan which was started to remind everyone that they can be anything and do everything they want. This collection has been rolled into this campaign as it fits the message perfectly.

Everlane

Out of all the brands, we have listed Everlane is one of the companies that it truly committed to ethical production practices. They began their 100% Hymen campaign in January where they started giving $5 of each purchase to the ACLU. Later as International Women’s Day came they came out be millennial pink shirts where the profits went to women’s rights organisation. Now for pride month, their complete focus was on PRIDE with 100% Human rainbow shirts.

The campaign declares “Gay. Bi, Lesbian. Queer. Trans. Non-Binary”. Whoever you love, however, you identify, we’re all 100% Human.

Gap inc.

The most famous Pride lines are rainbows, love is love and love wins. Gap Inc. came out with colorful rainbow t-shirts with these lines along with being paired with their brand logo. 30% of Gap’s Pride T-shirt net sales and $2 from every Pride-themed eGiftCard will go to the UN Free & Equal organization. For pride month Gap inc. released a corporate video in order to encourage their employees #weartheirpride.

Levi`s

Levi’s approach to the pride month merchandise is a little different than the others. They believe in going beyond just slapping on rainbows on t-shirts. They came out with black and white tanks and tees that have Fight Stigma written across them. The Fight Stigma initiative and product line is inspired by 80`s HIV awareness efforts. Levi’s Pride collection this year is utterly thorough, with jeans, shirts, pins, bandannas, socks and underwear.

100% of proceeds will be donated to the Harvey Milk Foundation and Stonewall Community Foundation.

Urban Outfitters

We love how fun and refreshingly the Pride fashion line is from Urban Outfitters. They designed the #UOPride line in partnership with hip-hop artist Taylor Bennett where all the profits are going to GLSEN. GLSEN is a non-profit organisation dedicated to improving the school experience for LGBTQ youth. The designs as we said are very fun and bubbly. The collections for pride month is full of soft pastel colours with rainbows and statements like love is love.  This year, the merchandise was shown off on a mix of young LGBTQ creatives, like dancer Harper Waters, model Torraine Futurum, activist Tyler Ford and musician Taylor Bennett.

Meundies

MeUndies are donating $1 from every pair of Pride underwear sold to the Los Angeles LGBT Center. We find their colourful polka dot underwear super cute along with being one of the most stunning campaigns for pride month. Their campaign involves a range of diverse and refreshingly female-focused line-up of human beings. Their “celebrate yourself” campaign and video series is about “feeling proud from the inside out.”

Converse

Converse have gone all out with not 1 but 37 different shoe designs on its Chuck Taylor’s and they are all pretty amazing. A part of the line is 70’s inspired and others include rainbow-soled high-tops and low-tops. They have patterns of all sorts from gradients, flags, spots, lines and stars. The name of their campaign is #YesToAll where this encourages people to feel free to be who they are. Net proceeds will go towards the It Gets Better Project and Miley Cyrus’s Happy Hippie Foundation.

Gucci

Gucci pays tribute to classic Elton John with this fantastic footwear for pride month this year. These platform sneakers are really giving a strong fashion statement. Along with these platforms they also came out with leather high-top sneakers and a pride print t-shirt.

Beauty Brands That Are Giving Back To The LGBT Community

We have discussed and seen how fashion brands have shown their support during Pride month this year but the beauty companies are no exception. We heard of companies giving out free products to the LGBTQ youth on every purchase along with others trying to raise a huge amount of money for organisations that support them. The true essence of Pride Month is giving the LGBTQ community a chance to freely express themselves. We saw the rainbows on the clothes, shoes and accessories it’s now time to see some fun colourful beauty products. You should really feel proud to own some of these products in your beauty kits.

We also came across several Pride-themed makeup looks everywhere on social media throughout the month, so people were either celebrating and supporting by buying some of these beauty products or creating vibrant colourful looks.

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