*CRIES* ALL OVER FIC.aefallenJanuary 4 2005, 16:41:58 UTC
Norman/Peter was my first SPM pairing love, and I've never fallen out of love with it, however it goes with Harry/Peter, and you remind me exactly why I fell in love with it.
I MEAN LOOK. *is torn to shreds by your fic*
The first time Peter heard the words “don’t tell Harry”, he had his back on a bed and he was recovering his breath. That single sentence holds so much meaning and so much place. When you say the first time, it begins the story you're telling with such impact. It really places the story. And then you say why.
Norman was standing to the side, buttoning his own shirt, without keeping his eyes off Peter I love the way Norman could do that. I love the way he can do that and yet keep his eyes on Peter. He's maintaining their connection. Oh Gods, when I say this it all turns to sap, but but it means so much.
Then there was the upturned corner of lips, a somewhat recognisable smile, whilst Norman leaned over to kiss Peter on his forehead You. Wrote. Tender. Norman. I'm utterly dead. Do you know how much I like seeing that? And you did it such a sweet, subtle way. No declarations of love, no fiery kisses, just something incredibly, incredibly tender. *melts*
Fic! Sorta. The beginning of Tangled. Because you wanted to see it. ^_^aefallenJanuary 5 2005, 20:22:45 UTC
Ishouldhaveafictogowithyouricon.
Yes, you should. I'd love it. Deeply. Not enough people write the pairing as it is. Not enough people write Norman, as it is.
You take the Osborns, I'll take Parker, and between the two of us, we'll cover the OTP spectrum. XD
Now I'm re-reading your fic again, I can't help but be amazed at how many moments you worked into this fic. the first time, held him in his arms - all these words, all the moments they mean, they're beautiful.
Don't know how you can just say so much from a few sentences. I don't know how you can mean so much with so few words! *hugs you tight* *smiles*
OMG FIC DIES. <3 THANK YOU. *clings to you*
You know, you and your "red and blues" - I turned out a 1,000+ word fantasy piece running around with that title. It's "red and blue". *laughter* It's... not slash, cries, but there's an awful lot of slapping. *laughter*
It starts somewhat like:
The moment my mother met my father, when she was eighteen and he nineteen, she slapped him across the face. Hard. And then she did it again, to the horrified wonder of everyone around them.
The moment her fingers left his face, though, he fell in love with her.
The fic I wrote in your house begins this way:
Far above the city, Harry Osborn opens his eyes.
Below him, Manhattan sprawls.
And that’s when he realises he’s in the centre of the largest spider web he’s ever seen.
[And then, the... Heh... bit ensues, some exposition later: ]
“Peter, I think you should stop -”
“Harry, I think you should stop thinking.” Mockery’s waiting at the edge of Peter’s voice, and Harry isn’t used to it. But before he can answer to that, Peter makes good on that thought by making sure that Harry can’t think, with a kiss that robs Harry of any thought of protesting.
“Peter, you killed my - ” Harry chokes, as he pushes Peter away, a last-ditch attempt to delay the inevitable.
Peter doesn’t bother answering.
Not with words, anyway.
When did he become such a good kisser? Harry wondered. Half-dazed, he thought he could almost forgive Peter the whole Spider-man thing, as long as he had more revelations of the sort coming. And why had it taken Harry so long to find this out?
“Peter,” Harry manages to gasp, “Stop -” And he almost bites his tongue when Peter does. “Is this what you want?”
A disturbing smile touches Peter’s mouth, and he leans even further into Harry. “Isn’t this what you want, Harry?” The question belies the smile on his face, the one that tells Harry he already knows the answer to that particular question. Then Peter comes closer than Harry ever thought Peter would be comfortable with, right before all thought flees him altogether. “What does it look like?” Peter asks.
Then Peter smiles. “Shut up and kiss me, Harry.” There’s a look in his eyes that Harry can’t help but obey. And while Peter isn’t giving him a whole lot of answers, he’s very good at making Harry forget all his questions.
When was Peter this good with his hands? With them, he can make Harry forget everything. Forget his father. Forget Spider-man. Forget everything but yes, more, and Peter. And Harry’s protests die as Peter’s touch steals all reason he has left.
“Pete, why?” he asks, in between kisses, almost laughing with the wonder of it all.
Peter looks up with the same strange smile. “Why not?” he asks, simply, before pulling Harry in for another kiss.
Then, Peter looks over Harry’s shoulder, his attention caught by something Harry can’t yet see. A predatory grin spreads across his face, and he says, eyes alight, “Took you long enough, Spider-man.”
I MEAN LOOK. *is torn to shreds by your fic*
The first time Peter heard the words “don’t tell Harry”, he had his back on a bed and he was recovering his breath.
That single sentence holds so much meaning and so much place. When you say the first time, it begins the story you're telling with such impact. It really places the story. And then you say why.
Norman was standing to the side, buttoning his own shirt, without keeping his eyes off Peter
I love the way Norman could do that. I love the way he can do that and yet keep his eyes on Peter. He's maintaining their connection. Oh Gods, when I say this it all turns to sap, but but it means so much.
Then there was the upturned corner of lips, a somewhat recognisable smile, whilst Norman leaned over to kiss Peter on his forehead
You. Wrote. Tender. Norman. I'm utterly dead. Do you know how much I like seeing that? And you did it such a sweet, subtle way. No declarations of love, no fiery kisses, just something incredibly, incredibly tender. *melts*
And that's just the first paragraph.
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I want to read your fic. >.o
Ishouldhaveafictogowithyouricon.
Reply
Yes, you should. I'd love it. Deeply. Not enough people write the pairing as it is. Not enough people write Norman, as it is.
You take the Osborns, I'll take Parker, and between the two of us, we'll cover the OTP spectrum. XD
Now I'm re-reading your fic again, I can't help but be amazed at how many moments you worked into this fic. the first time, held him in his arms - all these words, all the moments they mean, they're beautiful.
Don't know how you can just say so much from a few sentences.
I don't know how you can mean so much with so few words! *hugs you tight* *smiles*
OMG FIC DIES. <3 THANK YOU. *clings to you*
You know, you and your "red and blues" - I turned out a 1,000+ word fantasy piece running around with that title. It's "red and blue". *laughter* It's... not slash, cries, but there's an awful lot of slapping. *laughter*
It starts somewhat like:
The moment my mother met my father, when she was eighteen and he nineteen, she slapped him across the face. Hard. And then she did it again, to the horrified wonder of everyone around them.
The moment her fingers left his face, though, he fell in love with her.
The fic I wrote in your house begins this way:
Far above the city, Harry Osborn opens his eyes.
Below him, Manhattan sprawls.
And that’s when he realises he’s in the centre of the largest spider web he’s ever seen.
[And then, the... Heh... bit ensues, some exposition later: ]
“Peter, I think you should stop -”
“Harry, I think you should stop thinking.” Mockery’s waiting at the edge of Peter’s voice, and Harry isn’t used to it. But before he can answer to that, Peter makes good on that thought by making sure that Harry can’t think, with a kiss that robs Harry of any thought of protesting.
“Peter, you killed my - ” Harry chokes, as he pushes Peter away, a last-ditch attempt to delay the inevitable.
Peter doesn’t bother answering.
Not with words, anyway.
When did he become such a good kisser? Harry wondered. Half-dazed, he thought he could almost forgive Peter the whole Spider-man thing, as long as he had more revelations of the sort coming. And why had it taken Harry so long to find this out?
“Peter,” Harry manages to gasp, “Stop -” And he almost bites his tongue when Peter does. “Is this what you want?”
A disturbing smile touches Peter’s mouth, and he leans even further into Harry. “Isn’t this what you want, Harry?” The question belies the smile on his face, the one that tells Harry he already knows the answer to that particular question. Then Peter comes closer than Harry ever thought Peter would be comfortable with, right before all thought flees him altogether. “What does it look like?” Peter asks.
Then Peter smiles. “Shut up and kiss me, Harry.” There’s a look in his eyes that Harry can’t help but obey. And while Peter isn’t giving him a whole lot of answers, he’s very good at making Harry forget all his questions.
When was Peter this good with his hands? With them, he can make Harry forget everything. Forget his father. Forget Spider-man. Forget everything but yes, more, and Peter. And Harry’s protests die as Peter’s touch steals all reason he has left.
“Pete, why?” he asks, in between kisses, almost laughing with the wonder of it all.
Peter looks up with the same strange smile. “Why not?” he asks, simply, before pulling Harry in for another kiss.
Then, Peter looks over Harry’s shoulder, his attention caught by something Harry can’t yet see. A predatory grin spreads across his face, and he says, eyes alight, “Took you long enough, Spider-man.”
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