#i guess just for the sake of putting it out there since there's new people (which hi. hello. lovely to see you. charmed. xoxo)

[pomfiores]

as per my last post, thank you for the patience akjfha and putting up with my babbling from the void. hopefully when I get my two days off back to back, I’ll be here. I do like dedicating one day to being here and bumming it out but kfjsa we’ll fucking see I guess. :/

[dizscreams]

HEY!! can i request jack champion with a girlfriend that’s like rlly introverted? like she can and will put off any juman contact as long as possible and hates having to ask for help cause she thinks she’s bothering people? ty in advanced 🫶🫶

HI YESYES!!

Without You — Jack Champion ★

PAIRING: Jack Champion x fem!reader

A/N: The requests were kinda the same so I just grouped them together heheee lowk reader and Jack are the definition of lalala and okokok in this 🤭

TAGS: @evanpeterswifeyy868 @ashlesys-blog @xyzstar @teyamsgirll @c8rdigan @aqellano @wenvierismycomfort @wekiamo @beary-rambles @aesthetixhoe @mbankfav

From first glance you and Jack seemed like polar opposites. He liked going out and meeting new people and you preferred to hold his hand and listen to their conversations. Jacks never minded it, he thought it was adorable. You were glad he was understanding about it because you always felt like you were holding him back, since you preferred listening over talking. What’s even worse is that small things like asking for a favor or speaking your mind made you nervous.

Regardless, he was always there to reassure you through it all.

Now you weren’t an actor you were just dating Jack, but you still got invited to big dinners and sometimes hangouts. You would hangout on set sometimes and during that time you got to befriend Devyn and Jenna. You weren’t as close with anyone else, but that didn’t stop them from inviting you to stuff. They liked your presence and that made you happy.

You didn’t always want to go out, most of the time it was just for the sake of spending time with your boyfriend. He had a busy job, which you respected, but it got lonely sometimes. So as long as you got to have his company you didn’t complain.

What happened today was a perfect example of a small thing that made you extremely nervous. The group had decided to go to the movies and you agreed to tag along. When waiting in line to get in you held on to your paper ticket tightly in one hand while the other was playing with Jacks sleeve. “You okay?” He asked you softly.

You smiled at him gently and nodded, he smiled back and continued to talk with Melissa and Mason. You tapped your foot on the concrete along to the beat of the song that was playing in your air pods. Well, Jacks AirPods. You left yours at home and your boyfriend graciously let you borrow his. You smiled at the memory. He was just so caring.

You guys made it inside and grabbed your snacks. When you finally made it into the actual theater, right on time for the previews, Mason had accidentally sat in your seat next to Jack. Jacks seat was at the end of the row so you couldn’t sit on the other side of him and you definitely weren’t going to tell Mason he was sitting in your seat. You looked at Jack, who was too busy getting comfortable to notice the small mixup, and slowly headed over to where Mason was supposed to sit.

You sat in the middle seat that was between Jasmin and Jenna. You gave them an awkward smile and sat down before glancing over at Jack. He gave you his sad puppy dog eyes followed with a pout and you gave him an apologetic look. ‘Sorry’ you tried to mouth to the boy, but he just cocked his head in response. You guessed he couldn’t make out what you said so you pulled out your phone and texted him instead.

I’m sorry for not sitting with you.

Jack <3 It’s okay, ml. Why aren’t you?

Mason accidentally sat in my seat lol

Jack <3 OH want me to ask him to move?

No, it’s okay.

Jack <3 What???

I don’t want to bother him 🤷‍♀️

Jack <3 Baby, you wouldn’t be bothering him. I promise.

It’s fineee don’t worry about it

Jack <3 Are you sure??

Ofc just enjoy the movie :)

Jack <3 Okay, I’m gonna miss you though :(

It’s two hours??

Jack <3 That’s a long time??

You smiled to yourself and turned off your phone so you could pay attention to the movie that was now starting. You were glad you had a loving and understanding boyfriend like Jack. But while you were content with the situation, Jack was not. He wanted to touch you and hold your hand. He wasn’t that clingy, he just missed you. So, he did the only logical thing he could think of.

Ask Mason to move.

“Psst”

Mason gives him a dirty look, “Dude what?”

“Can you move? You’re in my girlfriends seat,” Jack said giving him an innocent smile.

“What?”

“Dude just switch with her, pleaseee!” he begged.

Mason rolled his eyes and got up. You saw him walking up to you and you panicked a bit, you wondered if you did something wrong.

“Jack wants me to switch with you,” Mason told you sounding slightly annoyed. You looked at Mason then you looked over at a grinning Jack. You tried to hide your smile as you got up muttering a small, ‘Thank you’ to Mason before heading over to your boyfriend. You sat down and he immediately kissed your cheek.

“I thought I told you I was fine,” you whispered.

“And I told you two hours was too long,” he responded smugly.

You sighed and shook your head, smiling. What would you do without him?

IM SORRY ITS SO SHORT AND LAZYYYY! I wasn’t sure how to go about this but regardless I hope you enjoyed. If you want more shy reader I’d totally be down to do it this was cute 🤭

[anonymous-dentist]

Day Seven - Soulmates

-

Soulmates, as everyone knows, share each other's pain. Bruises, scrapes, broken bones. Fevers, infections. Anything, everything. Nothing physical is left behind, just. Pain.

Roier kinda thinks it's all bullshit. There's all sorts of philosophy attached to it, like the idea that sharing pain is supposed to bring you and your soulmate together, but that idea doesn't really matter when you don't even know who your soulmate is. It's just pain for the sake of pain, and it's absolutely ridiculous, and he kinda hates it.

...But maybe Roier is biased, just a little. His soulmate, whoever they are, is either the most accident-prone person on the planet, or they've been a soldier since Roier was still in middle school. After years and years of constant aches and pains and bruises and fucking stab wounds right through the stomach and gunshots fired through the shoulder and the throat, Roier's tired.

Roier doesn't hate his soulmate. He probably loves them, actually; he started working out in middle school just so he could grow up into a strong enough man to be able to protect his soulmate the way they deserved. He just also thinks it's kind of bullshit that he and his soulmate have to share this much without not knowing who each other is.

"It's just kind of ridiculous, you know?" he asks.

"I guess," Cellbit hesitantly agrees.

Cellbit, unlike Roier, seems pretty into the whole soulmate thing. He doesn't think he has one, but he likes the idea of people being able to find someone special just for them that they can love and who will love them back. Sharing pain, to Cellbit, is the same as sharing a warm cup of coffee on a cold winter's morning: it's just something that people who love each other do.

Roier sighs, but he doesn't say anything else, mostly because he's decided he kinda likes Cellbit and he doesn't want to lose him before he can work up the nerve to ask him over for, like. Dinner. Or sex.

Tonight, they're side-by-side in sleeping bags on the deck of their newly-claimed Base Guapita. The kids are asleep inside, and Cellbit's hands are rough and red from an afternoon spent putting up the communications tower. He's half asleep, but Roier is wide awake and staring at the stars and trying to connect them into something meaningful.

Cellbit is... nice. He's nice. Him and Roier got off on the wrong foot, and he kinda super needs to shower more often, but he's sweet, and he has a cute smile when he deigns to show it. His eyes are breathtaking. His hands are big. His arms are covered in too many scars to count, and so is what little of his chest and neck he shows beneath his button-up and vest.

(Roier remembers waking up screaming a week or so ago and immediately checking his arms to make sure he wasn't the one getting fucking shredded with- with something. Bobby ran downstairs to check on him, and he got to the bottom floor just in time to watch Roier pass out as his soulmate died and had to respawn.

The day after that, Roier idly watched as Cellbit and Felps argued in the corner of his garden. He couldn't catch much of what they were saying, but the scars on Cellbit's arms were new, maybe.

Maybe...)

In the end, it's Cellbit who continues the conversation:

"If I do have a soulmate," he murmurs, voice slurred from exhaustion and muffled slightly by his pillow, "I kind of feel bad for them."

"Mm?"

Absently, Cellbit rolls onto his back, his arms falling on top of the sleeping bag's outer layer. One hand brushes along the largest of the opposite arm's scars.

Ah.

"Nah, it's probably fine," Roier says. He adjusts himself so that he's laying on his side facing Cellbit with his hand propping his head up. "Aren't you the guy who thinks sharing pain is romantic and stuff?"

"It isn't romantic," Cellbit scoffs. "It's pain. Nobody should have to go through it."

"Or maybe nobody should have to go through it alone. Isn't that what all this soulmate shit is about?"

Cellbit glances at him out of the corner of his eye. "I thought you didn't believe in soulmates."

"What?" Roier gasps, dramatically offended. "No! Of course I do! I just don't get all that philosophical stuff. Like, what's the point of sharing pain if you don't know who you're sharing with, you know?"

"Because it's what people who love each other do."

Roier snaps with a grin. "There you go! You and your soulmate love each other, so you want to share each other's pain. Right?"

Cellbit hums, "Or maybe he just wants to stop it."

Oh. "'He'? Do you-"

Cellbit cuts him off with a shake of the head: "No, I don't. I just know he would be a he. I'm not, ah..."

Oh, shit.

Roier knows Cellbit well enough by now to know when he doesn't want to elaborate on something, so he offers a cheerful, "Cool!", before going quiet again.

Then:

"I hope you find him, man," Roier says. He sits up and pats Cellbit on the shoulder with a smaller, more genuine smile. "I know he's out there."

Cellbit watches him warily. "I'm not even sure if he exists."

"Nah, he does. And I'd better get to be your best man, okay? If not, I'm stealing your husband."

Cellbit snorts quietly, lips quirking up into a half-smile. "Of course, guapito."

"Good." Roier nods, and he settles back into his sleeping bag. His bones, as usual, are aching. His hands burn, and he doesn't know what the hell his soulmate has been up to today, but he's going to make them start wearing gloves when he finds them.

He flops onto his opposite side, and then he screeches as his arm impales itself on the pointy end of an exposed screw.

"Chinga su madre-" he swears, scrambling out of his sleeping bag to dig up the hammer he and Cellbit were using earlier when they were renovating the airship.

Cellbit sits up, eyes wide. "Guapito? What happened?"

Roier slams his hammer into the screw in response with an irritated, pained, "Fucking nail got me in the arm, what the fuck?"

He turns his attention back to the floorboards, turning his sleeping bag over to inspect the rest of the floor for any loose nails.

(He does not notice Cellbit's face pale as he raises a shaky hand to his own arm, right where the screw had hit Roier. He looks from Roier's bleeding arm to his own, and a faint, excited, surprised, terrified smile crosses his face, and a blush paints itself across his nose and cheeks, and he has to cover his mouth to keep himself from letting out the happiest little squeal possible.)

[sturniozo]

Savage Love

Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU

Summary: After a night out with her friends, Y/n wakes up in a hotel bed with a handsome stranger with no memory of the night before. Pieceing together what she can, she finds the man she woke up with wasn’t just some stranger, but the most powerful man in New York.

A/N: I’m basing all of my mafia knowledge on watching the god father when I was six and that one episode of community with the chicken fingers. Other than that I have no clue how mafia works so this might not be as good as you hope but hey I tried. Tell me if you want me to continue this though! I had fun writing it!

Masterlist

I never go out with my friends and I felt bad about it for a long time. But today, Emma convinced me to go dancing with her at a club in New York. I’ve been in the city many times, as I live just outside of it, in a small apartment above a bookshop. But the city of New York still terrifies me, especially at night. There’s a rumor of a secret organization that controls just about everything in the city, and if you cross the man at the top then you’re done for.

Of course, these are just rumors and haven’t actually been proven. I have nothing to fear, right?

Now I’m sitting in front of Emma’s vanity mirror getting ready as she does my hair.

“Oh you should totally wear it down! Curl it a bit, let it hang over your shoulders. You might hook up tonight, you never know.” Emma teases as she messes with my hair. I finish curling my lashes and then turn to her.

“I don’t think I’ll hook up at all. I’m just not the type.” I shrug and stand up, switching places with Emma as she sits in front of her vanity mirror to do her own makeup.

“Well, I am the type.” She says as she starts with contour. I walk into the bathroom and plug in the curling iron to heat it up.

“You can hook up with any guy you want.” I say to Emma. “Just make sure he wraps it. I don’t want to be an aunt so soon.” I laugh.

Emma and I have been best friends since fourth grade. She’s my polar opposite, although we have the same dreams. We’re both journalists writing for a small newspaper outlet right outside of New York.

Emma’s the type to do things we’re doing now almost every day. She always tells me about all the big parties and exclusive events and venues she’s attended. She’s talk to, and slept with, many of the biggest people in multiple industries to get information for her articles.

I take a different approach. My stories come from the smaller people. The homeless and the struggling. I try to bring attention to the lower class of America.

I bet you can guess whose stories get published. Hence why I live in a small apartment above a bookshop, and Emma has a penthouse.

“God, I know. I can’t handle having a baby now. I’m only 20 for Pete’s sake!” Emma laughs and sets down her makeup brush. She turns to me and says “But I need to sleep with someone big and important tonight. I’m dying here, I haven had a story published in almost two weeks!”

I sigh. Two weeks is nothing. Try five months. I’m basically just a consultant at this point.

Emma turns back to the mirror to finish her makeup. I check the curling iron and it’s nice and hot, so I begin to curl the ends of my hair. Just a little curly at the edge.

Emma gets up from the mirror and starts shutting off lights and electronics around her penthouse. I unplug the curling iron and walk into the front room to put on my shoes and grab my purse. Emma shut off the last light and we walk out of the penthouse. She locks the door and we get into the elevator, going down to the front desk.

Emma has an Uber waiting for us. The great thing about Emma is, no matter how much more she has than me, she always gives and never asks for any in return. It’s always been this way. She’s the sweetest friend I’ve ever had. She’s also the most ruthless journalist I’ve ever met.

We get into the Uber and the driver starts for the city. It’s a long drive, one that me and Emma use to our advantage and try to find out who’s the most important person attending the party.

“Oh my god!” Emma says after a long silence of us just looking at our phones.

“What is it, who will be there?” I ask frantically.

“Matt Sturniolo!”

I look at her, confused. “Who’s that?”

“Who’s that? WHO’S THAT? Matt Sturniolo is only the most powerful guy in New York!”

“That can’t be true, how come I’ve never heard of him?”

“Because you focus on who can help the lower class. He can’t help them, it’s not in his power.”

“Then he doesn’t have much power.”

“Oh, he has power. He has all the power. It’s his rumor that he’s the one who controls all the important somebody’s in New York. I gotta make it my mission to sleep with him. God, I bet he’s good in bed.” She says to herself.

I let out a laugh. “What story do you plan together by sleeping with him?”

“I want to know if the rumor is true, duh!” She laughs and lightly hits my shoulder.

We arrive at the venue. It’s large and the music is blaring. We step out of the car and I lean to Emma and say loudly so she can hear me over the music “The most powerful man in New York is gonna be here?” I laugh. “This doesn’t look like a scene you’d catch someone so important in.”

“Trust me, he’ll be here. Steph said so, and she’s always right!” Emma says back. She takes my hand and drags me through the line, showing the bouncer a VIP pass for both her and I. They let us in and Emma immediately drags me to the bar.

“Two vodka martinis!” She says to the bartender. The bartender nods and begins our drinks. I turn around to look at all the people dancing. Men in half dressed suits grinding on women in the shortest dresses. This is what Emma does every day? I understand the appeal, but the loud music and the flashing lights just aren’t for me.

We get our drinks and Emma takes me to a table to sit down at. “So what do we do now?” I ask.

“We mingle!” She shouts and raises her hands in the air.

The rest of the night that I can still remember was filled with drinking and Emma talking to numerous people, always asking about the guy who’s name I can no longer remember due to my copious consumption of alcohol. The last thing I remember was talking to a tall, handsome, dark haired man with beautiful light blue eyes.

~

I awake with a pounding headache. I raise my head from my pillow and slowly open my eyes, groaning from the pain. I look around and realize, this is not my bedroom. This is not Emma’s bedroom. I have no clue where I am. I scan the room and my eyes fall on a strange man sitting on the couch. I gasp and he looks up at me.

“Good, you’re awake. I was wondering if I’d have to drop you at the emergency room.” He laughs to himself.

I sit up fully in the bed. “Who are you? Where am I?” I ask frantically.

“My names Matt, and-“ I stop him

“Oh my god.”

“It’s fine just-“

“Oh god what happened?”

“Nothing, I-“

“I was drunk!”

“I know, that’s why I-“

“Tell me I didn’t. We didn’t.”

“Would you let me fucking speak?” He yells. “I didn’t fucking touch you, okay? You were dancing on a table and your friend had gone home with some guy so I got you a hotel room. You could barely stand and you just passed out on the bed.” He finishes with a huff.

I stare up at him in shock. “So we didn’t”

“No. We didn’t.” He pauses. “But we could.” He says with a smirk.

A blush appears on my cheeks and my breath shakes “What?” I ask

“Well you’re an attractive girl, I wouldn’t mind it.” He laughs. “But I have a meeting in an hour, so it’ll have to be another time. Want my number while you think about it?” He asks and before I can answer he hands me a card. “I got an Uber waiting for you whenever you’re ready to go home, it’s already paid for. Just do whatever you need to before you leave.” He says, clearly insisting I shower and eat. “And tell the driver where you need to go. Don’t forget to call, doll face.” He says before leaving and closing the door behind him.

I look down at the card he had handed me.

‘Matt Sturniolo.’ With an address and phone number.

Tags: @stargirlsturniololover (the one who came up with the idea for Mafia!Matt) @sturniolobessed

[headkiss]

single thread (pt. 3)

part 1, part 2, part 3

pairing: spiderman!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you know steve’s secret, but he has another; he loves you. of course, you love him, too, and things change.

word count: 9.3k

warnings: spiderman!steve au, fluff, smut (thigh riding and a hj), mentions of a car accident (nobody gets hurt), idiots in love!!!!!!

a/n: she’s here!!!! thank u guys so much for ur support on this mini series, i have loved writing it so so much <3 this will be the last long piece, but if you guys have requests for blurbs from this universe, i’d love to have them!!!

/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\

You’d never been that great at puzzles, at figuring things out quickly without hints. But for some reason, this was something you’re pretty sure of.

Steve is Spider-man. He’s the one who saved you, who saves people every day, and he keeps it hidden. You understand why he does, and you’d never want to pressure him into telling you something he doesn’t want to, you only wish he knew you were ready to listen. Whenever.

You’re not that strong, but you’d take some of the weight off of his shoulders if you could.

The news plays on your TV now more than ever, as more than just background noise. Your eyes focused on the screen whenever Spider-man is mentioned, analyzing the way he moves, the familiarity of the hand gestures when he speaks, the gentleness when he makes sure someone’s okay.

It isn’t only on the news that you notice things, either. Seeing Steve as often as you’ve grown to, you seem to find more tells constantly. How he can catch a glass before it spills without even looking, the way he’s on edge sometimes, like he can’t focus on one single thing.

You see Steve often, and the clues are there, and he still hasn’t told you about it.

It’s not that you expect him to tell you, or that you’re angry he hasn’t. It’s just been hard to pretend like you don’t know why he’s limping or like you’re still clueless to it all. He’ll tell you on his own time, or maybe he won’t, but you’ll have to be okay with that.

You’ve convinced yourself it’d be best not to tell him you knew. He’s probably stressed out enough, and you didn’t want to add to that if you could avoid it. You’ll be there for him either way, that’s what’s important.

Besides, on top of you figuring out he’s Spider-man, you’ve finally acknowledged the feelings that have been there for a while. The serious ones, the four letter ones. They’ve been on your mind more than anything.

You’re in love with Steve, that’s something you could tell him, in theory, but you can’t bring yourself to. You’d hate to ruin the only real friendship you’ve managed to build since moving.

So, he’s not the only one with secrets after all. He’s Spider-man, you know that he’s Spider-man, and you’re in love with him.

Lately, you’ve actually been thankful for how quiet things have been at work. Your head’s been loud enough. The thoughts of Steve, of trying not to give anything away every time you look at him, of whether he might be going to patrol whenever he leaves.

It’s all-consuming. Pathetic, even.

And it’s what’s on your mind—once again—as you walk home from your morning shift at work. The sun’s out, your eyes squinted when it hits your face. The breeze around you is still chilly, but the promise of spring and warmth is nice.

You glance over to the newsstand you always pass going to and from work, checking the picture on the front page to look for a certain mask. Today, it’s there, and you pause to look at it.

‘Spider-man catches culprit behind string of armed robberies.’

Skimming the article, your heartbeat picks up. The danger this boy puts himself in for the sake of other people. The injuries you’ve seen him come home with. You shake your head and keep walking.

“Mom, look!” A little boy says, urging his mother towards the newsstand. “It’s Spider-man!”

You turn around, a small smile on your face as you see the mother buying her son a copy of the paper. You guess you’re not the only person who can’t keep away from that hero.

Then, there’s a little glow in your chest, the reminder that you’re lucky enough to know the person behind the mask, too.

-

Steve thinks that telling Robin about you might’ve been a bad idea, because she looks like she might slap him right now.

“You’re telling me you kissed her, then told her it couldn’t happen again, and yet you still have that look on your face when you talk about her?”

Robin makes it sound very simple. To him, it isn’t.

“Well, yeah, but it’s complicated, okay? And I don’t have a look on my face, Robs.”

“You absolutely do, all moony and shit. If I didn’t want you to find someone so badly, I’d say it’s kinda gross.”

Honestly, Steve can’t even tell her she’s wrong. If the way he thinks about you tells him anything, it’s that he probably can’t keep it off his face. At the very least, he hopes that Robin can only tell because she knows him so well, not because it’s insanely obvious.

“Thanks.”

“Steve, I know you like her,” she says, gentler than before, careful not to scare him from the conversation.

I more than like her, he thinks. There’s a better way to describe it and he knows that. He may not admit it, not even to himself, but he knows it all the same.

Robin continues before Steve can reply, “and I know you’re scared, I do, but we both know you’d regret it if you didn’t give this a shot.”

He shakes his head. Somehow, every time he sees Robin, the conversation always leads to this. To you.

“I’d regret it more if I got her hurt.”

“Steve, I’ve known about you since the beginning and look at me. I’m right here, perfectly fine,” she holds her arms out, like it’s some sort of proof that she’s okay. “The worst I’ve done lately is scrape my knee, and that’s just because I’m clumsy, not because I know about you being Spider-man.”

He supposes she’s right, that she has a point here, but it doesn’t stop him from being afraid, from feeling an uncomfortable clench in his chest when he thinks about even the slightest possibility of putting you in danger.

“It’s different with her, though,” he says.

“Come on! Remember in high school when you had like four different girlfriends in a month?”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“Well, still. Where’s that part of you gone?”

“Um…”

“Shut up, I mean the part that was open to that. To trying to make connections.”

“Maybe the venom from the spider made it disappear.”

She huffs and sinks into the couch cushions. Steve’s always been stubborn, quick to deflect with humor or sarcasm when things get too intense. Too much.

Robin’s a good friend, the best one, and she can see him closing up, so she changes her approach.

“I just want you to be happy, you know?”

“Yeah, Robs, I know.”

“Can you just think about it?”

“About what?”

“Asking her out, telling her how you feel,” Robin lays a hand on Steve’s shoulder, gives it a small squeeze. “Don’t close yourself off to it completely.”

Steve’s hand lands on top of hers, squeezes it back before letting go. He may not have that many people in his life, but having a friend like Robin never makes him feel like he’s missing anything.

At least, he didn’t feel that way until he met you. Now, he thinks about what it’d feel like to fall asleep and wake up with his arms wrapped around you, to be able to kiss you and hold you. To have that intimacy that you can only have when you’re in love with someone.

Fuck. In love.

“Okay. I’ll think about it.”

-

The good thing about being lost in thought while you walk is that it makes time go by quickly. By the time you’re walking up the stairs to your apartment, you’re not even sure how you got there, your feet having been on autopilot.

Just as you’re fishing out your keys, there’s the sound of a door opening, a pair of voices following. One that’s practically engraved in your head. The other is of a girl, who seems to notice you standing by your door very quickly.

“Oh my gosh! Hi!”

You blink at her a couple of times, because she’s talking to you like she knows you, like you should know her. “Hi…?”

Steve’s leaning a shoulder against his door frame behind her, a scrunch in his brows and a shake of his head. It’s all you catch before she grabs your attention again.

“Sorry! I’m Robin, Steve’s totally, completely plantomic best friend-”

“Oh my god,” he mutters.

“You’re the neighbor,” she continues, saying your name to make sure she’s right, even though she seemed plenty sure of that already. “Steve talks about you all the time.”

“Really?” You can’t help but ask. You try to hide the hopefulness in your voice, the happiness at the idea of him talking about you. All the time.

“Oh, yeah. You have made quite the impact on this guy,” she points towards him with a thumb over her shoulder.

“Robs,” Steve gives her a stare, eyes wide and—if the hint of pink spreading over his cheeks says anything—probably telling her to stop embarrassing him.

“What?” She looks back at him, all innocent.

“Don’t you have to get to work?”

“Okay, okay,” Robin turns towards you again, gives you a toothy smile that’s wide enough to have you sending her a small grin in return. “It was so nice to finally meet you.”

“You, too,” you say, and though she surprised you with a whole bunch at once, you mean it.

She pulls you into a hug and says to you quietly, “thank you for taking care of him.”

And with that, she walks away, retreating down the hall. Steve hears her, Robin knows that. Hell, she probably wanted him to.

He scratches at the back of his neck (that habit of his) and huffs, “I’m sorry about her. She can be sort of a lot.”

“Don’t be,” you shake your head. “She seems great.”

“You’d like her, I think. If you got to know her.”

He still seems nervous, like you and Robin meeting was a really big thing for him. And it is. The two most important people in his life meeting. Of course he’d want that to go well.

“Steve, you don’t need to worry, or anything. I already like her, okay?”

Anyone who seems to make Steve happier is bound to win some points with you. He deserves friends like that, especially with everything he has to carry.

“Okay, yeah. That’s good.”

He still seems nervous, so you step over and place your hand on his arm, giving him the lightest squeeze. He probably wouldn’t have felt it if it weren’t for how focused he is on you.

“I was just surprised, that’s all. Promise.”

Steve’s hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers gently, as if he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

“Thank you,” he speaks quietly. Two words he tries to tell you as often as he can.

-

Steve’s been visiting you at work often, sometimes with food, always with enough to brighten your day. Getting to spend that extra time with him is another perk of working when it’s not busy.

Today, he’s decided to surprise you rather than give you a heads-up over the phone. There’s a takeout bag clutched in his hand, and a little ball of nerves in his stomach. He shouldn’t be nervous, it’s only you. Then again, it’s you.

He opens the bookstore door, the small bell above it jingling. For once, there’s a customer at the register. You glance over at Steve from behind the counter, wiggling your hand in a quick wave before helping your customer again.

And just like that, there’s that feeling in his chest.

Steve waits by one of the displays as you finish up, trying not to make it obvious that he’s looking at you. There’s the soft smile on your face, the tone of your voice, the way the lighting hits your skin. It all has his heart going quicker.

“Hi, Steve,” you greet him once the customer leaves. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”

“Hi, honey. Kinda the point of surprising you with food.”

“Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Hopefully I picked something you like.”

From the packaging he’s seen before in your apartment, he’s pretty sure he did alright, but he waits for your confirmation all the same.

You open the bag he’d set on the counter, a small happy gasp that he likes way too much leaving your mouth, “yay! How’d you know I liked this place?”

He shrugs, “lucky guess.”

There’s a second stool behind the counter, and you pull it up for Steve without a word, patting the seat for him to sit down. He does, consumed by the brush of your arms as you unpack the food, the touch of your knees when you shift in your seat.

“Thanks again, Steve.”

“You already know I owe you for all the meals you’ve made me.”

“And you already know, you don’t owe me anything.”

You’re a kind person, Steve’s known that since he met you. So much so that you don’t even see the value in what you’ve done for him, like it’s the simplest thing for you. It’s the simplest thing to help him.

It makes him want to do things he said he wouldn’t. Things like kiss you.

“Anyway,” he shakes the thought away. “How’s your day been?”

You lift a shoulder as you finish your bite of food before replying, “been okay. I’ve had a couple more people come in than usual, which is good.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I love the quiet in here, love getting to just read behind the counter and call it work. But, it’s also nice to feel useful at least some of the time.”

“That’s good. What’ve you been reading?”

This is a question he loves to ask you, because you get excited to respond every time. He loves to watch you grab the book and show it to him, to see your hands flick through the pages as you tell him what it’s about, to watch the way your mouth forms the words you speak.

He loves to ask you, because he loves to listen to your voice when you answer. That word’s been in his head a lot lately. Love.

So much that he’s not sure it ever really leaves. It’s a lingering whisper, growing louder when he’s with you. Even after you eat, after the food’s been cleaned, as he walks out the door, the word stays.

“Bye, Steve, see you later!” You say as he reaches for the door handle.

He lets himself look at you again before leaving, his eyes lingering for a second too long. “Bye, honey.”

The bell above the door rings again as he leaves, but it isn’t loud enough to cover what’s rushing through Steve’s mind. I love her. I shouldn’t, I can't. I love her.

God, maybe he should talk to Robin again, he thinks. Or, maybe he could avoid the lecture he’s bound to get and take his mind off things the best way he can: putting on the suit.

-

Turns out that even when he should be focused on patrolling, his mind still likes to wander. That’s probably why he ends up stationed atop the building across from the bookstore, where your closing shift should be ending soon.

He ends up there most nights he knows you’re closing, really.

Before, when he couldn’t even let himself think about his feelings for you, he’d tell himself he stayed near the bookstore because it was a shadier area, more alleyways and all that. Now, though it sort of scares him, he’s able to acknowledge that it’s purely to make sure you’re safe.

He has a whole city to be protecting, but if his senses aren’t leading him anywhere else, he’ll always end up near you.

It’s sort of ironic. You, subconsciously looking for Spider-man everywhere you go, him being right there, and you don’t even know it. He’s so, so close.

Steve stationed himself across the street from you about twenty minutes before the shop was meant to close. His eyes squinted on his mask to see if there was anyone seemingly dangerous around, just in case.

Sometimes, when he does this, he can’t stop himself from thinking about that night when he found you in that alley. When his ears were filled with pure static until he knew you were safe. When he kneeled in front of you and brought you home. He doesn’t want you to go through something like that ever again.

The click of the bookshop door closing behind you has Steve’s heightened hearing turned on, knowing that you’re about to lock up and head home.

You feel like there are eyes on you as you walk. But, every time you look behind you, there’s nobody there. You’re just being paranoid, you tell yourself. You’re fine. And really, you are fine, because the eyes aren’t dangerous—though you don’t know it—they belong to Steve.

He hops across buildings as discreetly as he can while following your pace. Walking you home in his own, secret way.

The next thing happens in a complete blur.

You’re crossing at an intersection when a car runs a red light, speeding and crashing into another vehicle. You’re in the street, the two cars screeching on the pavement and heading straight for you. Even if you ran, you wouldn’t be quick enough.

But he was.

Steve jumped down before it even happened, his vision tunneling on that car, on you in its path. He just knew he needed to get to you first. He shot the web, swung down, and scooped you up right before the collision reached you. His heart pounding, his grip on you tight enough to knock the air from your lungs.

He lands and sets you down at the back of an alley, hidden from the bystanders that screamed at the sight of the crash, at the sight of him.

It takes you an entire minute of silence, of your chest heaving and your ears ringing to grasp what had just happened. How close of a call it was, how he was there to save you again.

Your vision is blurred by tears when you look up at him, at the red and blue suit, the mask. Your breathing is quick, panicked, but it slows the slightest bit when you look at him. Spider-man. Steve. The best boy ever.

When your eyes lock onto his face, Steve rushes forward, holding your face in a gentle grasp. It’s frantic, the way his hands shake when he reaches for you, the way his head tilts all over to make sure you’re okay. His thumbs brush away the tears that fall from your eyes, back and forth and back and forth.

“Hey, look at me,” he says, dipping his head down to make you focus on him. “Breathe.”

You shake your head, trying to calm down the best you can after coming so close. Fuck, it was so close. If Steve would’ve been a split-second later, you would’ve been hit. The thought doesn’t help you calm down one bit.

Steve can see the fear in your eyes, the quick rise and fall of your chest. It clenches his heart in a tight, uncomfortable fist, and all he wants to do is help you. So he lets it slip.

“Breathe, honey. Come on.”

Honey.

That’s all the confirmation you’d ever need. You were right. This is Steve. It’s Steve holding your face and saving your life.

You surge forward and wrap your arms around his neck, and his go around your waist instantly.

“Steve,” you breathe out so quietly, only he could have heard it.

His heart sinks and flips at the same time, if that’s even possible. It sinks because you know, somehow, and it terrifies him so much, he’s not sure what to say. But then, it flips, too, because there’s a relief that’s clear in your voice.

“How did you-” he starts, but you only squeeze him tighter.

“Steve,” this time, your voice breaks when you say it.

Now isn’t the time to talk about this. Not when you were almost hit, not in public. Not now and not like this, Steve knows that. The break in your voice tells him to push that back for now.

“I’m gonna take you home, okay?”

He can feel you nod against his neck, so he lets go of you with one hand and keeps the other wrapped around you and starts swinging.

Right now, at this second, he’s not worried about how you found out, how you know it’s him. No, he only cares that you’re alive, that he can feel your arms squeezing around his neck, that he can squeeze you back just as tight.

As he swings with you clutching onto him, the realization makes his breathing stutter.

You could’ve died just then. In that fraction of a moment, you could’ve been gone without Steve ever getting the chance to tell you he loves you. He can’t let that happen. He’s gotta tell you.

It scares the absolute shit out of him, but he has to do something. He can’t lose you before working up the courage to tell you how he feels, before having the slightest chance at kissing you again.

He won’t let that happen.

-

Steve’s very gentle with you, even when he’s swinging from building to building with you in his arms. The sure grip he has around your waist and the smell of his cologne buried under the suit help ground you as wind rushes by.

You’re alive, Steve’s got you, and he knows you know.

Your eyes are squeezed shut the entire way, and in only a couple of minutes, he’s hanging onto the side of his building by his window and thanking himself for (once again) not locking it.

“Hey, honey, can you open the window for me?”

You lift your face from his neck and nod, twisting to lift it open. Steve’s supporting you with one arm and holding the both of you up with the other. The strength he has is incredible, especially when you’re seeing it first hand.

He helps you get into his room with a hand on your lower back, and lifts himself in right after you. You watch Steve’s back beneath the suit as he shuts the window, watch his gloved hands remove the web-shooters from his wrists.

Then, slowly, watch those same hands lift up to the edge of his mask and tug it off.

Your breath catches. You knew it was him, but seeing Steve’s familiar face and its prettiest combination of features be revealed is different, it’s real.

“Wow,” you say, though you hadn’t really meant to. It slipped. “Hi.”

Steve’s had a twist in his gut ever since he found out that you knew about him, and it only tangles more now that you’re looking at him with widened eyes. He doesn’t want things to change with you, and he’s so scared that they will.

What if you don’t want to see him anymore because of this? What if you’re angry with him for keeping it from you? What if you end up hurt because someone wanted to get to him?

“Um, hi.”

You step closer to where he stands by his side table, your hands twisting in front of you like you’re nervous, too.

“You saved me.”

“Just, uh, doing my job,” he says, shrugging it off.

“Well, then, you’re really, really great at what you do.”

You’re trying to be light with the subject, to take it at his pace given it’s his secret, his life. Steve’s quiet for a few moments, a flicker of something you can’t distinguish crossing over his face.

“How’d you know?” Is all he says, but you know exactly what he means by it.

“Saw Spider-man with the exact same injuries as you on the news. I guess I just connected the dots from there.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You reach for his hand and hold it lightly, hoping that maybe, just maybe, your touch can help to ground him as much as his does you.

“Don’t be, okay? I understand why you wouldn’t. I just want to be there for you.”

“I don’t tell anyone, really,” he starts, his grip on your hand tightening as he speaks. “Robin’s the only other person who knows. I don’t want to put anyone in danger so I… I just keep it to myself.”

You squeeze his fingers, trying to show him in any way you can that you aren’t going to run away from this.

“You don’t have to keep it all to yourself, Steve. You can talk to me or knock on my door whenever you’re hurt,” he shakes his head. “You can. I keep my first-aid kit stocked for you.”

“It doesn’t scare you? That you might get hurt because of me?”

“I’m not scared for myself. I’m scared for you. Going out every night and fighting the bad guys. I’m scared that you’ll get hurt, Steve. I’m not worried about me,” he glances down but you step even closer, making him look at you. “If tonight shows anything, it’s that you’ll save me from getting hurt either way.”

Steve’s hand that isn’t holding yours moves up, pushing your hair over your shoulder before landing on your face. The fabric of his glove rests against your jaw, his thumb running over your skin, his eyes searching yours for a single hint of insincerity.

He doesn’t find one.

“You’re really important to me, honey.”

“You’re important to me, too.”

You’re close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips, his forehead a whisper away from yours. Close enough that you catch the way his eyes flick down to your mouth and back up.

“I know I said we shouldn’t-”

“Kiss me, Steve.”

“Okay.”

The hand on your face tilts you upwards, and just like that, he catches your lips with his. You’ve kissed before and still, there’s a rush of butterflies in your stomach, a warmth spreading over your skin the way a blanket of sunlight feels.

It’s slow, it’s delicate, and it means something. There are a thousand words that neither of you can say buried in this kiss, in the gentle press of your lips. Words spoken with the tilt of his head to get closer, the squeeze of his fingers interlocked with yours.

Steve doesn’t ever want to not be able to kiss you again. Not when it feels like this. Acceptance and reassurance, softness and the sort of glowing feeling he’s only ever had around you.

When he pulls away, he doesn’t go far. Your breaths meet between your faces, mingling in the silence that follows. Steve rests his forehead against yours, your noses brushing.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” you say. Because you’re still shaken from earlier, because you need the comfort that Steve seems to provide simply by being next to you, because you’re afraid that if you let him out of your sight, he’ll pull away from you again.

“You want me to stay with you?”

You nod. “Please.”

“Okay, honey, I’ll stay.”

As long as you’ll have me, he thinks, I’ll stay.

-

Steve did stay that night. After you both showered and got ready for bed, there was a moment where he stood—almost nervous—in the doorway of your bedroom. You lifted the covers for him and patted the spot next to you, and that was it.

He stayed for breakfast, too. This time, it was him cooking for you, stood over the stove in your apartment. It’s a sight you could definitely get used to. Then, like he could get any sweeter, he even called into work for you, saying you should at least get a day after what happened the night before. What almost happened.

Really, as scary as the crash had been, what you’d been thinking about the most was the way he kissed you. The way you’d woken up in the middle of the night with his arm around your waist. The way you fell back asleep easily with him there.

It’s what you’ve been thinking about in the days since. What you’re thinking about even now.

You know that something shifted that night, with him finding out that you knew he’s Spider-man, with you being able to reassure him that it won’t push you away. You could feel that shift, like a tectonic plate.

Despite that, things have been quiet and relatively the same with Steve. You haven’t seen him all that much, but when you do it’s still friendly. Friendly with something lingering between you, unspoken and palpable.

It’s dark out now, the evening news playing on your TV the way it so often does. It’s static to you until you see footage of Spider-man from earlier, swinging around and fighting crime again.

Naturally, your first thought is Steve, and whether or not he’s okay. Before, when he didn’t know you knew, you’d keep all this worry to yourself, letting it build and build until you saw him again. Now, though, he knows you know and you can do something about that concern.

You push yourself up from your couch and head to your door. Knocking on his comes easy, and he opens it quickly, like he knew it was you.

“Hi,” he says. There’s a smile pulling at his mouth.

“Hi. Sorry for bothering you, I just- um. I saw the news and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Seeing you on the other side of his door already had Steve’s heart doing this silly flutter in his chest. Knowing you care enough to check on him this way does something else entirely. It floods from head to toe, the feelings he has for you. The ones he’s identified as love.

“I’m okay, promise. Not even a scratch this time.”

You nod, a pressure lifting from your lungs. You breathe a little easier seeing him unharmed. Seeing him in general.

“Okay. Good,” you should probably stop there, turn around and go back to yours, but you don’t. “I was just really worried, y’know, ‘cause I’ve seen you hurt and all, so I just wanted to see you and check-”

“Hey,” he grabs your hand gently, cutting off your rambling and tugging you into his apartment, pushing the door shut behind you. “I swear not every Spider-man thing I do is dangerous.”

“Yeah, okay, because swinging from buildings is super safe.”

“I’m a professional at that. Nothing to worry about.”

The wood of the front door is solid against your back, and Steve’s hand still in yours is the same. Solid, reassuring, sweet. Steve steps just a bit closer to you, so that you’re toe-to-toe and there’s nowhere for you to escape to.

His free hand reaches up to fiddle with the ends of your hair, gentle in a way that almost feels like you dreamt it.

“Did you really only come here to check on me?” He asks.

“Yeah, I did. Is that… okay?”

Steve wants to kiss you for that. He thinks you might want that, too. So, he dips his face closer to yours, lets go of your hand only to hold onto the nape of your neck instead. He hesitates, waits for you to push him away, but you never do.

Instead, you tilt your head and meet him in the middle.

You never knew that kissing someone could be so easy, that you could fit together so well that it just works. But that’s how it is with Steve, and you suppose that’s how it is when you’re in love. The pink haze and heart-shaped touches.

Steve doesn’t think he could ever get sick of kissing you, of feeling so light when things are often so heavy for him. When you pull away, he chases your mouth and steals two, three pecks from you.

Then, to answer your question, he says, “it’s more than okay.”

You only notice now that you aren’t distracted by his mouth on yours that your hands had found their way to his shoulders. It’s impossible not to notice the muscles under his skin, the clear evidence of his strength. Heat spreads through you, and you have to pull your hands away to speak properly.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” he tells you. His hand, still on your neck, squeezes so, so lightly. “I know I’ve said that we should only be friends, but that was before. Before you knew, and I was terrified of what could happen to you.”

“What about now?”

“Now…” He takes a deep breath, and focuses his eyes on yours. Whatever he’s about to say, he wants you to know he means it. “Now I can’t stop thinking about you and how it feels to kiss you.”

“I think about you, too.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, and though being honest makes you nervous, the smile that spreads over his face makes it worth it. So does the slight blush of his cheeks.

“I want to take you on a date. If that’s something you’d like.”

“I would really like that, Steve.”

Right then, there’s another shift, a bigger one. You both know there are feelings here. Big, scary feelings that you can’t say out loud yet.

-

Steve took care of planning the date. He wanted to surprise you, to impress you and do something for you this time. You do enough for him already.

Though Robin assured him—after all of her ‘finally’s and ‘I told you so’s—that it would be great, perfect, even, he’s still nervous when he knocks on your door. He’s shuffling on his feet, puffing out a breath as he waits, and then he sees you and the rest sort of melts away.

You open your door to find Steve with a picnic basket in hand and a slightly windswept bouquet of flowers in the other. You smile as he hands them to you and try to hide it by smelling the flowers.

“Thank you, these are beautiful.”

“‘Course.”

“I’ll just put them in water and then we can go.”

Your stomach is a mess of flutters and nerves as you fill up a vase with water and put the flowers in it. Sure, you’ve spent time with Steve alone time and time again, but never like this. It’s exciting and it’s scary, but the welcome kind of scary that comes with new things.

“You’re taking me on a picnic?” You ask, locking your apartment door behind you and then falling into step next to Steve.

“If that’s okay with you?”

“Sounds amazing.”

“My cooking isn’t as great as yours, I have to warn you,” Steve says, holding the door open to the stairwell.

“I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“It’s okay if you don’t, I’m just saying.”

He holds the door at the bottom of the stairs open for you, too. And then the one to exit the building.

As you walk along, Steve leading the way, your nerves fade, replaced with the familiarity and comfort of Steve’s company. Replaced with the feelings that sweep inside you like a huge bubble of pink bubblegum, so close to popping and spilling it all.

You talk aimlessly about anything and everything, and Steve does the same. You both try not to make the little catch in your breaths obvious when your hands brush.

He takes you to a park, one with big trees and a walking trail, with scattered flowers and the fresh smell of nature that makes you feel like you’re not even in the city anymore. He keeps going, and you keep following him, until he finds the spot he’d found before. A small clearing between trees, shaded by their leaves and just enough space for him to spread out the picnic blanket.

“Why have I never found this place myself?” You ask, looking up at the sky through the leaves.

“You like it?”

You nod, sitting down next to him on the blanket he brought. “Thank you for bringing me.”

He shrugs, “thank you for coming.”

You share a smile, a slow spread across your mouths as you look at each other for a moment. A smile saying this is real. Then, like it didn’t even happen, he starts to unpack the food.

Steve can’t even remember the last date he went on, but he knows that it wasn’t anything like this. He’s never felt this light around someone before. Somehow, you turn the bricks that weigh him down into feathers.

You’d thought it before, but you’re sure of it now; Steve is the absolute best boy you’ve ever known. The effort he put into making and packing up the food, the shyness he has about it all, like he should be embarrassed for being sweet to you. You feel unbelievably lucky that you moved into the apartment across from his.

The date goes by in a blink. You and Steve subconsciously moving closer and closer on the blanket, your thighs touching and your arms brushing. The food eaten between conversation and giggles. The picnic basket is now packed up again, the containers empty this time around.

You rest your head on Steve's shoulder and say, “thank you for this.”

Steve’s eyes close for a second, trying to memorize how this feels. He opens them and presses the gentlest kiss onto your head. “You’re welcome, honey.”

You stay that way and breathe each other in, once, then twice. That’s all you allow yourself before you stand and brush yourself off even though you weren’t dirty in the first place. Steve folds up the blanket and places it in the basket, and he stands, too.

This time, as you walk back to your apartment building, when your hands brush, you and Steve feel just a bit more confident, enough to reach your pinkies out to each other and lock them.

Steve’s the one who fully grabs onto your hand, letting your fingers intertwine. It’s how they’re meant to be, he thinks, two pieces of the same puzzle that just happen to fit together. You don’t let go for the entire walk.

Outside your building, neither of you really want to say goodbye, to end the date that feels like the beginning of something really, really good.

But, just as Steve lets go of your hand to reach for the door, he feels it. The tingling over his skin, the goosebumps, the static in his ears. He blinks and turns to you.

“I’m sorry-”

“Stop, it’s okay. Just be safe.”

He’ll never understand how you’re so understanding, how you accept it so quickly. All he knows is he loves you for it and so much more.

“Thank you, honey.”

He presses the quickest kiss to your cheek, sets down the picnic basket, and then runs into the alleyway on the side of the building. When he emerges, he’s in his suit and swinging off.

He’d been wearing it under his clothes. Always prepared.

You pick up the picnic basket and walk up to your apartment half convinced that the last few hours have been some sort of dream. Too good to be true.

-

The issue that had Steve’s senses coming alive didn’t take long to handle. Still, he stayed out to continue patrolling, worried that something else could happen. Worried that it might be too soon to go back and see you again.

Not seeing you didn’t erase you from his thoughts. Not one bit. He spent the hours in the suit waiting for the city to die down, waiting for the moment his senses would quiet down enough to let him know he was done for the night.

All because he wanted to see you, kiss you. God, he’s so fucked.

You were faring pretty much the same. Only, you’d changed into your pajamas rather than a superhero suit, laying around on your bed with a book in hand to hear knocks on your door. Or, at the very least, to hear him get home safe.

When the knock comes, it isn’t on your door. Instead, there’s a tapping on your bedroom window by the fire escape. As soon as you hear it, you shut your book and turn towards your window, and there he is.

Steve hangs upside down, his head level with yours when you open the window to talk to him. If you weren’t so busy being in love with him, the sight would be sort of funny.

“Well hello, Spider-man,” you say, leaning your hands against the windowsill.

“Hey, honey.”

“You aren’t hurt are you?” You ask, moving your hands to hold his face, because you’ve seen him injured enough times to be worried about that, to know it’s a possibility.

“I’m completely fine.”

“You’re really okay?”

“Nothing hurts, I promise,” he says, shaking his head. How could it when you’re holding him like that, looking at him like that. Pain isn’t what he’s feeling in the slightest.

You’re not really thinking when you lean in and peck his cheek over the mask, but it’s enough to scorch his skin, to leave an invisible mark.

And Steve isn’t really thinking when he speaks, “have I ever told you that I think you’re really pretty?”

“You’re upside down,” you tell him, fighting a stupid, lovesick smile. “You must be seeing wrong.”

He ignores that comment and twists himself upright, then climbs through your window into your apartment. You have to back up to make room for him, and when his feet hit the hardwood floors, he’s only inches away.

“I’m right side up now. Still think you’re pretty.”

You’ve never been good at taking compliments, never really thought that people meant them, only that they were trying to be kind. Steve is different. You still don’t believe it yourself, but you can tell that he does. His voice holds enough emotion to do that.

Bashful, you walk around him to shut your window and then lock it. You try to keep your feelings off of your face when you turn back around and find him already facing you, his mask now off and clutched in his hand.

His hair is a mess on his head, his cheeks flushed from being upside down and maybe, just maybe from being so close to you.

“So, what brought you to my window?” You ask.

“I wanted to say sorry,” he says, scratching at his neck. That habit of his. “For leaving the way I did earlier.”

It’s a half truth. He wanted to apologize for that. But, mostly, he wanted to tell you he loves you. He’d been thinking about it his whole patrol. Thinking about when the right time would be then remembering how quickly things can change, how you’d almost been hit not so long ago.

With that, he decided that there wasn’t a right time, that he could lose you just like that and he swore to himself that he wouldn’t let that happen. Especially not without telling you how he feels.

But, he’s always been more courageous with that mask on, and now, he just can’t get the words to leave his mouth. They hover on the top of his tongue, sticky and heavy.

“I told you it’s okay, Steve. I swear,” you step closer to him and reach for his hand, tugging the glove off before lacing your fingers with his. “I know that you had to, that this is a part of you and I’d never expect you to change or ignore it. I-“ love you, you almost say. But the words get stuck for you, too. “I care about you so much. Spider-man included.”

Every time Steve worries, even the slightest bit, that you’ll feel differently about him because of this, you prove him wrong. You say all the right things to make him feel better, to make him want to fall into you completely and never look back.

You’ve proven to him over and over that you’re in this, that you’re this dream of a girl that somehow ended up in his mess of a life. A mess you’re willing to join, helping him clean it without even trying.

You’re a dream, his dream, and he has to say it. He has to say it so he does, those sticky words forced off of his tongue in a breath.

“I love you.”

He squeezes your hand on the second word, like he’s emphasizing it. Love.

“I love you,” he says again, and you realize you’re not dreaming. He really said it, and he’s really looking at you that way with those soft, brown eyes. “You don’t have to say it, I just needed to tell you. I’ve never had someone make me feel the way you do. Never.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

Your heart pounds, thumps.

“I love you, too.”

“Serious?” He checks, because he thinks he dreamt it just like you had.

So you repeat it for him, “I love you, Steve.”

He leans in, not so afraid anymore, and places a hand on your neck, his fingers in your hair. The other hand squeezes yours again before letting go to frame your jaw and tilt your mouth to his.

It’s an easy rhythm to fall into now. Kissing him. And you feel yourself melt into him, your muscles relaxing, your body pushing towards his. Your arms are thrown around his neck, and all you feel is him.

It’s a delicate push and pull, a kiss that’s familiar but now has something new behind it. That acknowledged emotion, the reality of it. It has his tongue sweeping against the seam of your lips and dipping in when they part.

His hand is tangled tighter in your hair, and you’re not sure how long it’s been before you both pull away, breathless, chests heaving, matching smiles on your lips. Your noses still brush, and still, it doesn’t feel close enough.

Steve’s hands shift to run down your shoulders, then your arms, and back and forth.

“Does this mean I’m your girlfriend?” You ask, still breathing heavy, still feeling his breath fan across your lips.

“I’d like to think so,” he says, his hands now settled around your forearms. “If that’s what you want.”

You nod, kiss him quick. “Does it also mean you’ll stay the night?”

“As long as I can use your shower first,” he says.

“Good idea.”

“You saying I smell?”

You shrug, shoulder to your cheek. He smiles, and in turn, so do you, and it feels like the closest thing to perfect there could ever be.

-

Steve emerges from your bathroom with damp hair falling over his forehead and your clothes on instead of his suit. You lent him a t-shirt and a baggy pair of sweats that are still a bit too short at his ankles. You grin when you notice that.

And Steve grins when he sees you. My girl, he thinks. And it’s for real this time.

You’re sitting with your back against your headboard, knees bent and your book in your hands yet again. You needed to occupy yourself while he was showering, after all. Otherwise, you’d just think and think and think about him in the next room, his mouth on yours. His voice saying the words ‘I love you.’

He walks over and sits on the bed by your feet, his side facing you, but his head turned to look at you. Seeing him in your clothes, in your space, you think it’s something you’d like to see forever. Seeing you waiting for him in bed, Steve’s thinking the exact same thing.

“Hi,” you say.

Steve wraps a hand around your bare ankle, his thumb smoothing back and forth. “Hi.”

Though everything’s out in the open now, there’s a shyness there. Like two kids with crushes wondering what to do next. You’ve never loved each other out loud before today. It’s brand new territory.

But with that shyness, there’s so much more. There’s the knowledge of how it feels to kiss each other, to hold each other. There’s want to do it all again.

Steve’s other hand reaches for your book and sets it open and face-down on your nightstand. Then, he pushes your knees over so that he can lean in. He’s not fully thinking about what he’s doing, he’s simply listening to this thread that pulls him closer and closer to you until he’s kissing you again.

It starts with a couple of pecks, innocent, soft, quick. It turns into more and somewhere along the way you’re tugged into Steve’s lap, your knees on either side of one of his thighs. And somewhere along the way Steve’s hands have ventured under your shirt, running across your waist and up and down your back. He groans into your mouth when he notices the lack of a bra.

Steve tugs you impossibly closer to him, tugs you down so that you’re straddling his thigh with all of your weight. You inhale sharp and quick through your nose when he does.

It’s not long after that before you’re panting, unable to keep up with his mouth, and though Steve’s chest heaves, too, he doesn’t take the break to breathe properly. Instead, he dips his head to kiss your jaw, then your neck.

Your head tilts for him easily, an arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other tangled in the hair at the bale of his neck. You gasp when his teeth scrape against the skin behind your ear, your hips hurting unconsciously to rut against his thigh.

“Sorry,” you say, worried it was too much. Still, it comes out breathily.

He pulls back from your neck, looks into your eyes, his brown ones just a bit darker than usual. “Did that feel good?”

Your eyes search his face for an ounce of discomfort, of uncertainty. All you see is the kind of warmth that spreads through you, the kind of intensity that only comes with lust.

“Yes.”

“Do it again,” he tells you, his hands slipping down to rest just above the waistband of your shorts. He encourages you to move, his hands pushing and pulling. You move with him, slowly at first, letting out the smallest whimper when the angle is just right. At the sound, Steve says, “keep doing it.”

“Steve.”

“You’re okay,” his hands urge you forward again, his thumbs running back and forth soothingly. “I wanna make you feel good. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, because how could you not when it already feels so good, when he’s looking at you with kiss-swollen lips, messy hair, and wide pupils. When he’s looking at you like it feels as good for him as it does for you.

You move quicker, his hands encouraging you still. He kisses you again, kisses you until you have to pull away, your mouth dropping open, a moan slipping out before you can stop it.

Steve wishes he could bottle up the sound and keep it, listen to it over and over. Because he’s the one who’s making you feel that way, he’s the one who has your hand tight in his hair. Because he’s thought about you before, and it’s nothing compared to the real thing.

The sweatpants you lent him grow a bit tighter, and his hands don’t stop guiding you over him. He wants to hear you make that noise again.

You drop your forehead to his shoulder, your thighs tightening around his, your clit catching on the fabric of your shorts and his (your) sweatpants enough to make you moan again.

“That’s it, baby. Doin’ so good.”

It’s the first time he’s ever called you ‘baby’ and you hope it won’t be the last.

“Steve.”

“I’ve got you.”

The hand that isn’t in his hair trails down his torso and rests above the waistband of his pants for a second. Your hand cups him over his pants, squeezing lightly and finding him hard. Watching you was enough to turn him on, and the thought makes you whimper again.

“Fuck. You don’t have to,” he says, taking a hand from your waist to pull your face from his shoulder, to look at you.

“Want you to feel good, too.”

There’s nothing but honesty in your words, want in your eyes.

“Shit, honey.”

“Will you let me?” You ask, your voice slightly strained from the stimulation you feel, your hips still moving.

“Yeah.”

Your hand slips under the waistband with his consent, and you wrap it around him, your thumb running over his tip. He groans and leans his forehead against yours.

You’re breathing the same air, moving at the same pace, and you don’t think it’s ever felt this right with anyone before. With Steve, you’re not thinking about how you might look and whether or not he’ll like it, you’re only thinking about being with him.

“I’ve thought about you before. Like this,” he says, a quiet confession broken up by heavy breaths.

“Me, too,” you reply in a gasp.

His hands are both on your waist again, squeezing your skin tighter because you have a hand wrapped around his cock and it has his head spinning.

“You getting close, baby?”

“Yeah, Steve. So good.”

“I know. Keep going. I wanna see you.”

His voice is tight, and he’s holding himself back though it hasn’t been long. Your hand is soft, running up and down and he hasn’t been with someone in so long. The fact that it’s you, right now, doesn’t help him last. Just kissing you would be enough, he thinks.

Your rhythm stutters, your eyes squeezing shut, and just like that, you’re tipping over the edge and coming on his thigh.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he hums, low and scratchy. “That’s it. Look so pretty coming on me.”

Your hand pauses where it was jerking him off, too caught up in your orgasm to keep going. You say his name, say it again, and he keeps you moving over him through it all.

“Fuck,” you open your eyes when the last wave draws away, your legs shaking slightly.

It doesn’t take you long to start stroking him again, up and down and back again. Steve grunts and his hips stutter upwards, chasing your touch. It’s your turn to work him through it.

“Gonna come, honey,” he warns you. “I’ll ruin your sweats.”

“Don’t care,” you say, kissing his cheek, the corner of his mouth. “I want you to.”

You run your thumb across the tip again and then his fingers are digging into your skin. He’s groaning and you feel the warmth of his come spill onto your hand. Neither of you had taken any clothes off and still, it’s the best you’ve ever had.

“Shit, honey.” This time it’s his head that rests against your shoulder. “I’m gonna need another shower now.”

You laugh breathily and pull your hand from his pants, wiping it off on the thigh you’re not sitting on, ‘cause they’re already ruined, anyway.

“I’ll get you another pair,” you say.

“In a minute. Can’t move.”

A minute is closer to five, and eventually he lets you go. You hand him a new pair of sweatpants, then clean up in the bathroom and change into different shorts. When you come back, he’s laying down under the covers in your bed. Twin smiles spread on your faces.

“You’re cute,” you tell him.

“So are you.”

You shake your head and flick your light off, the street lights flooding through your window the only thing left illuminating your room. You join him under the covers, and he doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you and pull you into his chest.

Your head rests by his shoulder, one of your legs thrown over his. Having him laying next to you is much more comfortable than being alone.

“I love you,” Steve says, his lips pushing a kiss into your hair.

“I love you,” you say right back.

And then, just like you’d imagined so many times before, you fall asleep cuddling Steve. And just like he’s imagined so many times before, you wake up that way, too.

/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\

thank you guys so much for reading spidey!steve i hope u liked it!!!! pls pls consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought, i promise it makes a difference <333

[wintersmitth]

I once got called xenophobia for saying that a whole lot of Americans are American centric and frankly culturally imperialistic... I'm American myself, so I guess I'm xenophobic against me and not just... observing something true

Anyway, here's my point in relation to what you were saying

It seems that for many American's it's just impossible to conceive of the idea that no everywhere has American dynamics when it comes to things like race, and that what we see as white might not mean shit

Like... I don't get it, cause it only takes a couple seconds of paying any attention at all to notice things like the discrimination that places like the UK tend to have towards Eastern Europeans, that clearly skin color doesn't really matter there... and... it's also pretty damn clear that for all the talk russia does about "russian speaking Ukrainians" they don't actually give a damn about them cause they see Ukrainians as inferior

Just don't get it, don't get how lefties here can talk about cultural relativism and then not... apply it... and actually... acknowledge that not everywhere in the world has a US cultural lens, that not every dynamic everywhere is the same

Drives me nuts

Also I suppose my real point here is just trying to say that you're so right about all this privilege talk... I've been following since this invasion started, I've been actually paying attention and learning about what russia's been doing since the collapse of the soviet union

And I've also been paying attention to how Ukraine dropped off the map after like... one, maybe two months. News stopped talking about it, and the majority of Americans never were paying attention even then

We had mike johnson dip his hands elbow deep in blood as he refused to put aid up for a vote for month and months

...and then Ukrainians are privileged

"This is how they talk about a white hospital being bombed", they didn't fucking talk about... about the maternity hospital, or that concert hall with "children inside" or... dear god the universe would end before I could write everything russia's done that almost no one in the west talked about

"Imagine if russia did this!" ...they did, not just in Ukraine but in Syria, and Georgia, and Chechnya. I wasn't paying attention back then, but I'm paying attention now, and that's just what the russian military does

Fucks sake, you don't have to compare victims of genocide, you can support them both. The correct number of dead civilians is zero

It feels like I'm going crazy with how noone can understand that... or... more like they're all going crazy and I can't fucking get through to people. Or like... for me even if I didn't already dislike the GOP here, I couldn't vote for them cause of how they treat Ukraine, but meanwhile you have all these people talking about not voting out of spite and... they can't seem to see the russian propaganda oozing out of those words, like literally there's a 100% chance a lot of the "people" saying this are kremlin bots and troll farms (like 2016)

(And bonus complaint, I thought we all cared about Iranians... but... it feels like we forgot them too, and worse still it feels like some people are willing to support the Iranian government to own the US and... I... I really don't fucking know what's wrong with people)

So sorry for the weird and long ask, I just want you to know that I hear exactly what you're saying and you're so right

These people don't get that they're still doing American exceptionalism except we're the best at being bad, and that they make every fucking thing about America always forever

They can't fucking exist without projecting American race politics on to every situation. They can't hear about people being killed in another country without talking about how sad it is for them that this'll be WW3 (it won't... if you were paying attention you'd get how it won't be)

You're right to feel how you do, you're right to say "what privilege?" because there's none. They act like everyone's fawning over Ukraine and giving them special treatment, but I'm watching and I've been watching and we're only barely drip feeding any amount of support and then everyone wrings their hands about if we've upset russia and might get nuked, after all... if we sent you stingers we might get nuked... wait... that's from the start of the war, sorry I meant if you were allowed to blow up russian air bases with US weapons we'll get nuked

It's sick how Ukrainians get treated, and the people who talk about how Ukrainians are treated don't even pay a moment of attention

Slava Ukraine

Thank you for this message.

You are so absolutely right on every account there.

I suppose the most insane thing for me is people comparing genocides. You said right there: the correct number of victims is zero. And honestly I can't expect everyone to fact check everything, but the way people are misusing that damn UN report is malicious. It's meant to undermine our struggles, it plays right I to russian propaganda.

There is so much I got to say, but none if it is a coherent at the moment.

It's infuriating how people on internet go "Look at them talking about white hospital" well first of all this is by far not the first hospital Russia hit. Has been hitting. Word outside doesn't know 1/3 of what is actually happening here.

And then we get vilified for talking about our losses?! That's some privilege.

There's another message in my sitting which I got a few days ago and it is something along the lines "fuck you for telling people to vote for Biden he's committing genocide" and I'm just. Sitting here thinking that I don't want to be genocide either.

Anyhow. Yeah lots of Americans are so self centered it's insane. Even marginalized group, who seemingly should know a thing or two about never being listened to, brush away our words like nuisance. A few weeks ago I told some American scholar on twitter that writing USA has a war on its land is disrespectful to us living in actual warzone and got shut up with "white people always talk over black folk". The exchange had nothing to do with race. It's just systematic brutality and a threat of dying from a missile are different dangers ya kno.

Anyway, thank you for this message.

[wolfchankki]

I loved your Soobin fic 🤭 and I loved it so so much, and I thought I'd request smtn, idk about you but when I see Beomgyu I always think of him as a bratty bottom, so here's what I'm thinking:

・FemDom reader (Like femfem.. No one can tell she's the top.. I don't see enough of those type of doms iykwim)

The scenario would be that reader and Beomgyu are roommates, reader is more on the introverted side so she doesn't go out much unlike Beomgyu does, which makes him think “She's probably haven't sex before” so he'd tease her until one day reader is over it and puts him in his place!

For kinks I'd want to see some overstimulation, slight degradation (or praising degrades), pet names, maybe a mommy kink?, & toys (vibrators)

That's all from me for now 🤭

Hello babe, good? Thanks for the request! I’m sorry for taking so long to post, but today I finally had a day off, and I hope the little longer writing make up for my delay. You guys are going feral over bratty Beomgyu and I’m loving every moment of it so far JSHKSHKS, for sure I’ll try to engage a little of every kink you put here, and here we stand up for FemFemdoms!

Im sorry for any mistake, I’m writing it totally stressed out AND a little drunk

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Bratty!Beomgyu x FemDom!Reader

overstimulation, degradation, pet names, mommy kink, toys (bullet and wand vibrator), a single face slap, hairpulling, no piv sex

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Sleepless” (aka my fav Dutch Melrose song)

Tired of him nagging your ears off for four hours straight, you put your headphones on, a chill Spotify playlist giving some peace for your overused hearing sense.

At least for fifteen minutes, before your roommate get bored and took them off of you.

Taking one heavy breath with closed eyes, you finally open them again, not fully ready for Beomgyu’s shit talking again.

“…But are you really still virgin?” Asked after straight four minutes of a monologue of “how people over 20 shouldn’t be virgins anymore”.

For fucks sake.

No, you’re not virgin, but what’s the problem if you were? You could be religious, or that could be just your choice. Why is he so bothered by the thought of you having or not sex?

“Not of your business, Choi, now let me sleep”.

“I can’t! I’m now sure that you’re a freaking virgin and you’re just ashamed to admit. How can you sleep knowing that you’re over 20 and still virgin?”

His logic just doesn’t make sense enough for you, so you just fix the hem of your purple dress with a huff. You put him after your bath since your pajamas are on the dryer.

“I know you’re tired, but listen: you never, never, hang out alone or with someone, you’re always occupied ever since I know you, so you can’t possibly had sex before. So, you’re virgin!”

“Yeah yeah, you figured out the biggest secret of my life, now let’s sleep, Beomgyu” your tired voice gave some chills to the boy’s spine, observing you undo the Dutch braid of your hair, your almost everyday hair style. You thought that just agree with him would save you a little mental sanity.

Oh girl, how wrong.

“Ha! You virgin!” he scoffed “Are you waiting for your prince?”

“Guess you want to be this prince, since you’re making it such a big deal” you answered, rolling your eyes.

“Maybe, it would be lovely to make such a damsel cry for my cock” even not looking at him, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

That was the last straw you needed.

Standing up in a hurry, you gave no time for him to make another joke before you slapped him across the face.

He looked at you, too shocked to speak, hand in his red cheek.

Your stinging hand runs to his hair, taking in a fistful of his overgrown locks.

“Listen to me, very very carefully, Beomgyu. Now, you’ll shut your dirty mouth and do exactly what I want, am I clear?”

At first, he was too shocked with the attitude to speak, so, as little reminder of his new position, you tighten the grip in his hair.

“Yes, ma’am!”

Surprised by his sudden politeness into calling you “ma’am”, you hum at his response. You forcefully make him lay on your own bed, leaving him there to make sure the door is locked.

He wanted to ask if you’re that desperate for losing your virginity as a tease, but he already knows better and kept his mouth shut for the first time.

“You’re unsufferable, Choi, I’m worn-out of it. You need to learn your place for now on, so, that’s how its going to work: first, I’m not going to have sex with you, bad dogs like you don’t deserve it, but you feel a little of what I could do with you if I really wanted to. If something gets too much, just say “red”, then I’ll stop, and if you’re feeling good to continue, say “green”. If you don’t say “red”, I’ll stop whenever I feel like it. Ill not tie you up for now, but if you fucking think about touching me, you’ll regret it.”

Dazed, Beomgyu just nods eagerly. Who’s desperate now?

“You’re just a dumb, desperate whore, Beomgyu, ill make it clear for you since you’re too stupid to realize it by yourself.”

He hated the way his cock throbbed in his pants.

“Sit properly” you demand, “and take off your clothes”.

A little troubled, he does what you want, wondering what you going to do.

While he takes his clothes off in no hurry, you went to your wardrobe and take some things from the last drawer. Beomgyu was shocked seeing the wand and the bullet vibrators in your hand.

“You…”

“It’s clean, don’t you worry about it.”

“I would ask if you… When you use it?” for the first time ever, you saw him blushing at his own question.

“You’re always not home, sometimes I need to relax” you answer as if it was nothing. He didn’t answer.

“Why ae you so quiet now, uh?” you tease “Not so cheeky anymore, Gyu?”

The simple nickname made shivers run down his spine. Good.

Is something hard to explain, the sensation of knowing that you’re the one in charge now, also acknowledging that the whole time, you’ll be fully clothed, while he’s all exposed to you. Is something powerful, this kind of dominance.

“Are you okay? Use your words, Beomgyu” is always good to check up on the subbing one, know if they’re mentally prepared to continue the scene, you know it well.

“Yes, ma’am”.

“You know why I am doing it?’’ you asked, walking towards his naked self, sat in the middle of the bed”

Beomgyu didn’t answered, looking away, making you chuckle.

“Soon you’ll know.”

You pretty dress moves with your body while you sit in bed next to him, exposing your tights a little more, drawing his attention towards them.

“Enjoying the view?”

“Very much, actually.”

Here’s the cheeky tone again.

“Lay on your back. I want you to lay your head on top of your hands, arms up.”

This time, he takes a little more time to react to your words, but you let him take his time without pushing too much further, knowing that everything of it is new to him.

He finally obeys, laying on the bed just the way you wanted, looking at the ceiling.

“Not so brave anymore, bitch?”

He huffs, you ignore.

Looking down, you could see his half hard member.

“Is my dumb whore enjoying it? Enjoying being called this dirty things, uh?”

Your fingertips run along his thigh softly and you observe him chilling and his cock twitching. He closed his eyes with a deep breath. You take advantage of it and take the wand vibrator in your hand, turning it on in the lowest setting at the base of his dick.

He let out a strangled, surprised moan, his hands already flying towards you arm for support, but he remembered your threat, putting his hands back to place.

The game was just starting.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Mo-mommy, please!”

His fucked-out expression made you hum, holding one of his trembling thighs in a heavy grip, your nails digging a little in his skin while the bullet made his way to his tip after his first orgasm.

“Mommy? What is it now, uh?” you chuckle “Didn’t new you like it, Beomgyu… But mommy will make you feel good again and again, wasn’t it what you wanted? Mommy’s attention, slut?”

That was when his sobbing started, already feeling overstimulated from just one orgasm. With your iron grip – that he was surprised that you even had the strength to hold him in place – didn’t let him close his leg, making the sensations stronger. He never stimulated himself after the orgasm, and the feeling hit him hard.

“Color, Beomgyu?”

He hated to admit, but the agonizing sensation was making he feel good in some way, and know that the moment he wasn’t feeling well you will stop, made it even more pleasurable for him.

“Green! Green, mommy, ma-make me cum, pleasepleaseple-ah! Please!” You chuckle at his hurry, caressing his thigh.

“Y’know, I shouldn’t let you, you were so, so bad earlier, pup… maybe I don’t let you cum again at all and just stop here…” Being unfair, you turned on again the wand vibrator in a little higher setting at the base of his dick, not taking off the bullet in his tip, making him squirm, moaning louder that you imagine that he would.

“M'sorry! Sorry, mommy, m’sorry!”

“Are you? Are you really sorry, or you’re just a desperate whore to cum?”

“M’really sorry, I-I swear, m’mmy!”

You could tell that he was using all his self-control to not cum without your permission, and fighting the urge to move his hands from their place he so obediently let them.

“Then you can cum, Choi.” You almost don’t finish your words when he came with a scream, barely nothing coming out, his body having strong goosebumps and spasms.

But you just took away the bullet.

He cried, and you straddled his thighs, not letting him move.

“Just one more and we’re done, can you do it for mommy, puppy?”

You observe the fat tears running down his pink cheeks, smiling to yourself, he was so pretty fucked out like this.

“What’s your color, Gyu? Speak to mommy”.

Taking away the vibrator to let him talk, he takes some deep breaths.

“I… I-I think I can, mommy… Green.”

“That’s a good boy! Let me know if gets too much”.

You put the vibrator almost in the highest setting, again finding its way to his dick.

He sobs and bucks his hips hardly but couldn’t do much since you’re pretty comfortable siting in his thighs. He could feel your soaked cunt through your panties in one of his thighs but couldn’t do anything about it with his hands below his head, trying to obey you. He tried to focus on your pretty hair contouring your face and the strap of your dress slipping off your shoulder, an image that he will never forget.

“I’ll ask again; why am I doing it, Beomgyu?”

“I-I was- humph! I was bad to you, mo-mommy!”

“Right! You were very bad and nosy, Gyu, but is okay, mommy will teach you how to behave properly. What do we say when someone does something good for us, Beomgyu?”

The buzz of the vibrator was inebriating both your senses.

“Thanks, thanks for making me le-learn, mommy, thank you, I’m sorry!”

“What a good boy, already learning! You can come when you’re ready, baby, so good for mommy…”

Not a moment after, Beomgyu came, nothing coming out his slit, just spasming uncontrollably below you, tears streaming nonstop from his closed eyes, sobs and hiccups coming out his beautiful shaped mouth. You turn off the tool immediately and get off his thighs, shushing him.

“There there, baby, you did so good for me, so good for your mommy, I’m proud of you, bae.”

You run your fingers in his damp hair, comforting him after what he would say later as the strongest orgasms he had ever had.

“M’sorry, mommy…”

He says after a while with you calming him down.

“I know baby, is okay, mommy is not mad anymore, you did so well for me.”

You smiled and kissed his forehead.

“Can I eat you out?”

He sounds so sudden and innocently shameless, that you had to laugh.

“Not today, baby, I’m good.”

“But, mommy, please-“ he was ready to whine about it, but you cut him off.

“No, Beomgyu. Want mommy to scold you again?” he pouted and shook his head “So, listen to me. I’m tired, and I can bet you’re exhausted. Maybe another time. Just a minute, babe” you rolled your eyes playfully when he whined again when you get out of the bed to take some wipes to clean him.

You clean his chest, lower belly and, of course, his cock. He hisses, but you were fast, so he didn’t complain a lot.

“I’ll get you some water, okay?”

He nods with a small smile while you walk away, looking you up and down. He loves this dress.

When you came back, he was already fast asleep in your bed with his mouth slightly open, drained out of energy. You chuckle to yourself. Maybe he never learns, but its alright, you’ll always remind him his place.

[trexiejan]

My opinion : Babs was deaged to be with Dick.

Okay so I've seen so many dickbabs shippers try to deny that Barbara was deaged to fit Dick for the purpose of defending dickbabs or make them look better i guess. They keep saying that wasn't the reason why she was deaged. they always point to the 1st time she got deaged.

like why are they so upset when they see people say that. I wonder if they care more about the ship than barbara as an individual character.

cuz if they truly liked Barbara separately from Dickbabs maybe all the anti-dickbabs comments wouldn't be an issue for them. 🤷‍♀️

anyway i'm going to explain why it's true.

here's the thing :

Barbara was deaged more than once.

Crisis on Infinite Earths wasn't the only time she was deaged, she got deaged again in other books/continuites.

So The real question is where did they deage her to be the same age as Dick to make them work not when was she first deaged. (we all know it's always in dickbabs comics where she's written as the same age as dick, i wonder why)

The 1st time she was deaged was in Crisis on Infinite Earths, it was so Jim could be younger but they only decreased her age slightly because she's still written as older than Dick, here is a panel from Secret Origins #20 that was published in 1986 exactly 1 year after she was deaged in Crisis on infinite earths (1985) she said Dick is too young for her and that batman is always the one on her mind. So Dickbabs during this time still has a big age gap so they're still unable to work.

The 2nd time or 3rd time she was deaged is in dickbabs comics where she was finally made the same age as Dick so dickbabs can finally work as romantic pairing. 

Instead of being older she's now written as a part of Dick's generation.

From a congresswoman to someone who went to highschool prom with Dick.

Even Tom Taylor wrote them as childhood sweethearts so he can portray them as soulmates in his comics. a huge wtf moment for me because Babs wasn't originally this young when she first met Dick 😭

pls She had a PHD, has been working as a librarian and congresswoman when dick was still a young boy in gotham.

Barbara is now written as a part of his generation and his one true love since day 1. (from an independent congresswoman to Dick's childhood sweetheart and girlfriend who revolves around him)

Before Dickbabs couldn't work because of their age gap but now they can work. thanks to dickbabs comics deaging barbara again and this time for the sole purpose of reducing Babs into Dick's love interest.

So Just because she wasn't deaged to be with Dick in her 1st deaging doesn't mean she wasn't deaged to be with Dick in her 2nd or 3rd deaging 🙃

Dickbabs shippers can deny it all they want but at the end of the day dickbabs wouldn't have worked out if she wasn't deaged to be the same age as dick.

and even if they're right, let's say for the sake of their argument they're right that babs wasn't deaged to be with dick, it still doesn't change the fact that dickbabs is weird.

Regardless if Babs was deaged to be with Dick or not, It's still weird to see Dick being put in a relationship with a woman who was originally a congresswoman when he was still in highschool.  

It's like deaging Batman into a teenager (like let's say it's because they want to make Bruce appealing to teenagers) but years later they decided to give him a love interest who is also a teenager as part of the new batman stories.

So even though his deaging has nothing to do with women or shipping in the first place, it's still weird to suddenly see Batman in a relationship with women who are a part of dick's generation knowing he was originally much older than them.

Like Bruce/Raven or Bruce/Starfire suddenly becoming a thing 🤢 No amount of deaging would be able to justify those pairings.

The same happened to Barbara she was originally a part of Batman and Superman's generation.

for goodness sake she dated Superman!!!! She was so much older than Dick.

Also remember when Dickbabs was originally a pedo-like ship and it was so controversial and hated the same way Brucebabs was hated today? Because Barbara the adult woman is kissing minor grayson but now she's fully making out and having sex with minor grayson in dickbabs comics.

The reason why Dickbabs fans don't want people talking about this is because they care more about making dickbabs look good than barbara's independence. They don't care that Barbara lost her independence, her phd, her solo careers, her librarian and congresswoman job because of dickbabs shipping.

They don't view Barbara as a character seperate from dick. Barbara is trapped in this relationship because of people like them. They don't fight for Barbara's independence. The only thing they want from her is to be the girlfriend of Dick and nothing else. It is so hard for them to let Barbara Gordon be independent and not just “Nightwings girlfriend."

Barbara's real enemy is the dickbabs ship. Before, she is able to stand on her own, but now she's nothing more than just a love interest who can't live without dick and too dependent on him and his solo books to exist.

DC really needs to get Barbara some actual character building that doesn't involve Nightwing whatsoever but it's hard to do that when she won't even stop chasing Dick nonstop like a dog in his solo books and thinking about him 24/7 because of writers like tom taylor who is always busy making babs' entire personality all about dick than writing solo babs stories.

Dickbabs is unnecessary and disservice to her character, it does nothing for her independence. She is forever demoted to Dick's love interest unless they free her from this ship.

poor babs she deserves better than people who only want to associate her with dick 24/7.

[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝐴𝑟𝑒 𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡, 𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝐼 𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑡

Summary: No one in school could deny that Sebastian Sallow was in love with the new student, but also couldn't deny that he was a stupid with his confession plans... Would a birthday change it all?

Aka scenario mixed with headcanons about Sebastian absolutely being a lovely romantic with his feelings and doing something to prove his feelings to a certain important professor and the girl he loves.

A/N: I might write one with Ominis too, because they are both my lovely bois! But this one is already long as hell, so there will be a second part!

Against the contrary belief, Sebastian Sallow was never and is never gonna be a fratboy kinda man. Yes, he flirts but guess what?

Only with you, the absolute love of his life.

Now, Anne often teased him with being a hopeless romantic and said that girls wouldn't be that interested... Jokes on her, you were already down bad for him and that stupid smile whenever he achieved a certain hard potion.

I mean, come on... You wouldn't try to stand the pain of freaking Crucio for his sake, if you didn't feel anything for him.

Anyways back to the point, Anne was indeed grateful that there was someone who had her brother's back.

Someone that eased his thirst for Dark Arts and a blind suicide mission just to have a cure for her.

She was also happy that there would be someone else he could rely on, knowing he and their uncle didn't get along at all.

But couldn’t help from thinking that girl, come on... My awkward brother when it comes to romancing the girl he likes?

She was right tho

Sebastian, though he didn't know much about romance since his priorities lied somewhere else until you came along, relied on romance novels

First mistake he did

Reading Wuthering Heights proved to be a wrong move because a) he cried after reading it and b) he was starting to act like the characters

The first reality shifter in my opinion 😂

And now, our awkward boi had a plan to confess- Merlin knew if he didn't, he would soon loose you and it would break his already fragile heart, the one thing he hid from anyone.

And what was the best plan..?

Throw a birthday party and confess there.

But... Now there was another problem

What gift would be good enough for you?

“What to get her, what to get her..? What does she even like? Maybe books? No, too cliche... I'm sure she read all the books in here though-“

You see, for the first time, Sebastian Sallow was actually nervous. One might think the charming Slytherin boy could be anything but nervous, but when the mission on hand was the utmost importancy that held the key to his future and possibly the rest of his life that could either continue with bliss or pain, he couldn't really afford his focus to wander to other places.

“Sebastian, what are you doing?”

But of course, simple people-even if that said person was his best friend-, could never understand how this was a big deal.

“A very important mission, Ominis. Now, if you excuse me...” Sebastian muttered absentmindedly while the blonde boy tilted his head curiously since he never saw Sebastian so... dead-set on something, that had nothing to do with Anne’s curse.

How did he know, you ask? Well, he wasn’t begging him to go to that Scriptorium for the first time. And Ominis, as shocked as he was, just knew that it was something about the new student that came and a smug smirk found his face.

Oh, I knew Sebastian was attached to her... Wonder how long it will take for them to finally confess.

“I assume it has something to do with Y/N, the new friend of us? Maybe about her oncoming birthday even?” he teased Sebastian as he plopped down on the bed that was right next to Sebastian’s , feeling the brunette boy’s shocked stare on his face as he brought out his own wand to show him the gift he had already gotten for you.

“I thought you didn’t like her! Why did you even buy a gift?!”

Ominis looked at him dead in the eye, scoffing all the while putting the gift he has gotten for you away and changing back to his relaxing clothes. “Tame your jealousy, Sebastian... And no, I never said I hated her. I was just slightly irritated because you brought her to Undercroft without me knowing beforehand. But just so you know, we are really good friends now.” He stated as a matter of factly, and though Sebastian denied he was jealous, both young Slytherins knew the truth.

And just how much Sebastian was deep in the well of love.

“I’m not jealous, Ominis. You can buy her whatever you want, I was just curious since you are always snarky around her!” he let out a childish humph! while sitting on his green, silky bed and continued to write down all his plans and possible ideas for gift. He wouldn’t really say it out loud, not that he was embrassed... Or maybe he was, but not because it was you, he had obvious feelings for you for the first time ever.

It was hard for him to admit, but perhaps... He only needed a little push.

“Hmm, so it wouldn’t be a problem if I were to go and snatch he-“

And by the fast swoosh and the sudden thud sound, followed after a groan from the brunette boy, Ominis knew that he had caught him.

First of all, no he wasn't being too much with his reaction

Second of all, why would Ominis be ever interested in you?? When you were his...

Okay, so perhaps that was what made him halter and think about what he just thought and...

🌠fireworks 🌠

That was exactly how the realization felt like. His insides burnt, not a painful one but a very pleasant, warm fire he used to feel whenever he sat down in front of the fireplace... And that warnth made him realize the true expant of his feelings.

Most students, and even some teachers, told him how he was attached to you ever since you came to the school. How you and him were attached from the hips, and how you both looked at each other sweetly, though in secret.

He was possessive of you, was in awe of your kindness and care for everything and anything. After everything that happened, and now he admitfed how selfish and inconsiderate he was of you in the road to his sister's aid, he trully realized that you were more than a simple girl.

You let him do Crucio on you, a painful curse, and bear the pain of it alone. You used your magic for him, Ominis and Anne many times to the point of fainting and... He only used that kindness, took it granted and bever checked on you with his mind occupied with Anne.

It filled him with immense sadness and guilt, making him feel ashamed at the way he treated you as if you didn't mean everything to him. As if you weren't his whole heart and soul. As if your kindness wasn't what lightened his dark life.

And then, the most recent memory of you erupted, a few days before everything went shit... A memory, which made his heart clench in love and longing.

"Why are you sitting away from me?" You turned your head to Sebastian who already was seated next to you, a frown pulling on his annoyingly handsome face and you smiled. Because that was what you had been doing whenever you were close to him, with his dorky face and stupid jokes that never failed to make you crack a tiny smile.

He made your heart fill with... as much as you didn't want to accept, love and safety. You felt more alive with him, as if you would be able to do anything with him there.

Your body and soul, heart all together existed only when he touched you.

This is what we call love. When you are loved, you can do anything in creation. When you are loved, there's no need at all to understand what's happening, because everything happens within you.

You could feel yourself through him, and it was... scary, how in rhythm you were with him. How well cordinated you were together, basically impossible to stop as a duo. He always had an eye on you, moreso after what happened with his uncle. You saw the guilty eyes he always seemed to have, how he was acting around as if he was walking on eggshells and how much... responsible he had become.

Before everything that happened, you and Ominis had to force him to attend class in time and do his homework, often making him trail after you two whenever you and Ominis would study late in the library secretly. And the shocking part, he always got good grades from almost every single one of them and that shocked all the teachers.

We didn't know you had it in you, Mister Sallow...

One sentence that freaked not him, but all three of you. That was when you thought this was it, that they would ask what was going on but instead they only replied with I see that your friends are helping you out! I knew one day you would come around.

Yeah... Friends.

Friends who watched the other get lost in the darkness.

Friend who sacrificed every bit of her for her crush, no... the boy she loved, but got treated like a punchbag.

A friend who had to stop his best friend from commiting crimes and comfort the other, a friend who blamed himself for ever introducing Sebastian to Dark Magic.

And amidst all... A friend who was so close to loosing everything.

Yeah, definetly friends...

"Nothing Sebastian. Nothing is wrong really. I just didn't want to make uncomfortable since you are left-handed." He didn't like how awkward and shy your voice sounded, and definetly didn't like how these words were something you always said even when you were in pain... The proof of his not-so-there care.

But he also didn't know whether to scoff, scold you, laugh or cry at your reason either. He told you many times that it was fine and he wasn't uncomfortable, something you would answer with but you always get angry with other whenever they anger you over it.

You could really never realize his feelings, couldn't you?

"You... sure? Did I do something? Anything lately?"

Ah, suddenly... I hate being early to the lesson and is he coming closer to me?

"I'm sure, Seb... Why would I even lie?" You gave him a kind of awkward smile as he raised a brow at you, looking between the two of you. His insides told him otherwise, but he feared he would drive you away if he asked more.

And it was the last thing he wanted, the last thing he needed...

Merlin knew he would be gone for food if you left him too...

"No reasons, just... We are still due to the Hogsmeade, right?"

Perhaps you should have said no and return back to what you were doing, avoid him and his handsome face that did nothing except haunting you and gave you butterflies whenever your eyes laid on him...

Loving him will end you, Poppy once said to you. Worrying for you and your heart, bless her soul. Sebastian was like mad honey, you always thought of him like that. Mad honey eased many pains in one's body, was healthy for the body, strengthening the heart and making the person who ate it stronger than before...

But it also burnt while eating, damaged the heart rhytm, caused hallucinations and caused pain if one ate more than necessary... And in se rare cases... It resulted with death even.

The worst part? It was so addictive that the person couldn't stop themselves from eating it after one point.

And Poppy feared that would be what happens, if you didn't stop yourself. She didn't hate Sebastian, he was actually noce to her from the beginning and even helped around whenever he had time. But she knew his reputation around the school as well, and was scared if he would hurt you.

Him suddenly acting all nice and responsible didn't help either.

But what no one really realised is... You were already a goner for him.

And even after all the hurt he put you through... He was now aware of them, actively trying to be better.

How could you avoid him when he is the biggest part of your life?

"Yes, Sebastian... Of course we still are. I can't wait to spend more time with you..." you turned to him with your usual smile that blinded him and made him blush, cooing internally at your adorableness and he gave the same smile back, if not... A much more relaxed one that gave away how relieved he was to hear you were still there and didn't plan on leaving him.

But that smile soon faltered when you frowned at something behind him, making him turn and... eventually scream in fright.

"Is that... Ominis?" You looked at Sebastian with wide eyes, cautiously walking to where the slumped figure of the blonde who worked two jobs, being a student and keeping an eye out for you two, was leaned over the wall behind him. You clutched your chest thightly, the sight of Ominis' open eyes scaring you, and you waved your hand slowly in front of him. You let out a surprised squeak when Ominis did nothing except letting out a snore and shook your head softly at him all the while Sebastian was busy with trying to get you back to his side.

"Merlin's beard! He sleeps with his eyes open!"

"I mean... He can't see either way?"

"It's still scary Y/N! You don't know how frightening it is when I wake up and see him looking at me, sleeping with those eyes open!" You laughed loud at Sebastian's trully frightened look, slapping a hand to your mouth to not wake Ominis up. You were glad to see Sebastian so... like how he was before and seeing the three of you were still the chaotic duo made hope blossom in your heart and made the fairies sing love songs and ring chimes happily...

Alongside with Ominis' cute snoring, who wasn't aware of anything.

Ahhh, yes... I would be nothing without these two dorks...

So, going to Hogsmeade was never a problem. You three always hang around there, Ominis usually dragging you both to Honeydukes while Sebastian dragged you to Three Broomsticks

There were times they had to listen to you tho

For example letting you drag them to have a picnic and have fun in the river by teying to catch some fishes or splash water at each other

All three of you were drenched after one time you did this, and Professor Matilda was angry at you three for a whole week.

Not because she hated you all or something, but because she was worried you three would get sick.

Secretly, she loved you three the most amongst all the students and saw you as her children... Especially knwoing your family status'.

But mama bear was flabbergasted when the two boys were bedridden but you were all fine, attending classes and even explaining them to the sick boys and volunteering to do their homeworks as well.

"I was gonna do mine as well, why wouldn't I do yours?"

But if mama Matilda was good at reading people, she was even better at reading young people in love

And she saw right through Sebastian and you as well. All those stolen glances and shy touches didn't pass through her glasses at all.

And, as the matchmaker of Hogwarts, she gave you two a day off to Hogsmeade after doing so well in your classes...

And so that you two might grow some pairs and confess already, she had a going bet with the grumpy Sharp and she wasn't going to loose it!

"What's your favourite color, young lady? Just say it so that I shall give you what your heart desires, as a gift to you of course."

Well, not every day you had the chance of hearing a seller ask this kind of question. And definetly not when you were looking for gifts or having a stroll with your bestfriend, who-would-never-love-you type of man.

"Uhm... Excuse me?"

"Your favourite color! I make little lockets and gifts based on a person's favourite memory, colord and such! And today'a lucky customer is you, darling girl!" Slightly old lady exclaimed happily, showing off everything she had done in the past and though you took a step back at the amount of them, you couldn't help but let out a wow at the significant details in all of them, which made the woman puff her chest out proudly.

It probably wouldn't hurt to try, right?

"Brown... Brown is my favourite color." The woman tilted her head curiously at your choice, making her magic work as your eyes drifted to Sebastian who was busy having a mild argument with one of the ladies over a necklace, giggling at how that act screamed Sebastian.

"Hmm, interesting choice... May I ask why?"

" It reminds me of autumn... The early hours when the sun's light reflect off of the soil and create the most beautiful auburn color and... His eyes..." Your eyes stayed locked onto where Sebastian was busy picking some jewelry as a gift to Anne, lips pulled in a frown as he looked at every single one of them with a seriousness you rarely saw.

But your eyes travelled away from his face and your mind took a sharper turn.

Those new uniforms need to be illegal... He is too good-looking in them...

His white shirt hugged his arms and chest quite well, showing off the muscle he had built after years of training and fighting. They were daunt and probsbly well-defined, you could tell whenever he hugged you or wrapped them around you protectively...

I'm down bad for him... Is that even oka-

"Ahh, youngsters... Always having other ideas with their significant others..." the seller let out a sigh softly as she looked behind her to where you were looking, understanding the situation fast as she gave a teasing smirk. Damn, I forgot she was able to see my mind...

"Uhm... I'm sorry, I can't help it..." you mumbled shyly, not daring to look at her as you accepted the two lockets to you. The open one, your eyes stayed on and your heart flipped at the scene that was inside it. There it was, the day when you surprised him with a little get-away, only the two of you and jumped on his back when he didn't expect it, drenching both of you as the sun kissed his freckles and casted the most beautiful gleam over his face...

But there was one more...

You frowned at her at realizing the other locket, after all you definetly didn't tell her to make two of them.

"But... I didn't want a second-"

"I know, sweetheart... They are my gifts to you and your boyfriend. You two look lovely together." She patted your hand sweetly, urging you to accept it and smiled when you accepted them rather shyly.

"I-I... He isn't my boyfriend..." you put the lockets back in your pouch and gave a thankfull smile to the old lady begore catching up to Sebastian who beamed at the sight of you, telling you how there was a lady insisting on buying two necklaces he set his eyes on.

As you listened to him and took his arm and looped yours with his, you weren't aware how his heart beated hard at the peaceful smile over your face. You didn't know how he started to sweat nervously and stuttered slightly either or how badly he wanted to kiss your plush lips, wondering how kissing you would feel like...

And you definetly didn't know what happened before he came to collect you that day either, the memories of what he talked with Professor Fig still clear in his mind.

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

continuation of this story that is still as yet untitled but has been labeled as #FreeRei in my notes app

The fact that Rei had nothing in the way of backpacks, bags, or even a purse due to her seemingly permanent residency at the hospital was both a blessing and a curse.

Navigating the ledge and tree back down to the ground with his mother in tow was a harrowing enough task without luggage complicating matters, though not quite as difficult as Dabi had assumed because apparently his mother was nimble as all hell.

"The hospital offers pilates classes." she told him as he helped her cross from the ledge to a large sturdy branch of the tree. "I go every day, I thought it would be smart to stay in good shape in case I got the chance to escape." she giggled airily. "I guess my instincts were right."

However she now had nothing to her name but the clothes on her back, meaning Dabi was going to have to steal her a bunch of new clothes and shit while trying to lay low and not draw attention to himself because he just kidnapped the number 1 hero's wife.

This is the stupidest thing you've ever done you soft piece of shit, she says a few nice words and you melt into a fucking puddle, pathetic.

Rei left the lump of pillows she had stashed under her bedcovers in place so Dabi knew they had at least until morning before she would be reported missing, enough time to drop into a 24hr corner store and grab a few essentials.

He zipped his collar up over his chin and pulled on his black cloth facemask and hood before going into the thankfully empty store, he wasn't sure if having a gently smiling older woman on his arm made him seem more or less suspicious with his face as hidden as it was. Though in the end it mattered little as long as he wasn't recognised as Dabi, Rei having last been seen with a mysterious masked figure wouldn't be very useful information to anyone trying to find her, but Rei being seen with a member of the League of Villains could cause trouble.

Especially since they had The World's Most Obvious Spy in their midst.

Keeping the bird around had seemed like a good idea at the time, they always knew where the Commission's eyes were, and could feed him information as tainted as what he gave to them, and seeing as he hadn't ratted out their location (after a few trial runs at various decrepit fake bases) his goal seemed to amount to more than simply capturing the League.

But Dabi couldn't guarantee the Commission wouldn't cut their losses on the whole infiltration thing if they found out the League was harbouring someone of such a high profile, there was every chance raising the stakes this way could jeopardise their tentative safety with their hero mole. He was going to have to keep Hawks at arm's length for a while.

"What colour?" he asked Rei as she browsed the shelves for a toothbrush, almost giddy in excitement over something as simple as shopping for toiletries.

"Colour?" Rei asked, peering at the boxes in Dabi's hand.

"White hair's too eye catching and recognisable, if you want to go out in public you'll have to hide it." He held up the two boxes. "Red or black? Forget about blonde or brown, the cheap stuff doesn't set well in our hair."

Rei tapped on the box of black dye. "This one, so we match!" she smiled.

Dabi felt a sudden flood of something warm in his chest before mentally slapping himself and putting the red dye back.

Keep it together for fuck's sake you're a god damn villain, you have literally murdered people.

He smoothly slipped a couple of chocolate bars into his pockets and some wrapped sandwiches into his coat before heading to the counter with the hair dye, a toothbrush, and a packet of cheap medical face masks.

Rei grabbed at the items. "Oh can I buy them? Please?"

Her childlike wonder and excitement pulled at something in Dabi's chest, once upon a time it was him tugging at her sleeve and asking to pay for their groceries like a grown up. He could feel heat gathering beneath his skin.

Fuck he stole so much from us.

Dabi may have risen from the grave to a life of chronic pain in a fragile immunocompromised body that was kept alive by virtue of artificial quirk induced fevers and spite, but it was a price paid for the freedom his death had granted him. Rei was not awarded that luxury, fit and healthy she may be but her life had been reduced to barely more than a small box for over a decade, Dabi didn't know how it hadn't driven her even more batshit insane than Endeavor had.

Well, she did run off with a wanted criminal, maybe them docs didn't fix her up as well as they thought they did.

"I... yeah, yeah sure." he passed her the items and the last of the money in his pocket. "I need to make a call, meet me outside alright? Don't take too long."

Shiggy was gonna fucking dust him if he showed up with a stranger out of the blue, he was going to have to call ahead with some warning.

Shit, he really hadn't thought this through, at all, the League's base was the only safe place he could possibly take Rei and it was filled with unhinged lunatics that would probably scare the poor woman to death.

Although she had been married to a complete monster for half her life, and had enough guts to escape with a villain at the first opportunity. Maybe she wasn't any more frail than she was sane.

Maybe he broke you but he broke me too, yet here I am, parading around in this shattered husk, pretending I belong anywhere but six feet under.

Dabi had worked hard to maintain his mysterious image, the man with no name or past, a ghost in the system. It was necessary, a requirement for his master plan to have any kind of satisfying impact. He'd maintained the act for this long by keeping people at arm's length, trust no one and no one can betray you.

All of that would come crashing down if his mother spent any more than five fucking minutes with Himiko Toga.

The last thing he wanted was to drag his entire lifetime's worth of baggage into the League's hideout in one condensed human sized package, but he'd already started digging this hole, there wasn't anywhere left to go but down.

He opened his phone and scrolled down to 'Crusty Bitch' in his contacts before pressing call.

"Do you have any fucking idea what time it is?" Shigaraki's groggy voice poured through the phone like sand through an hourglass, grainy and impatient.

"I need a favour." Dabi said, his voice a careful mask of apathy.

"...Holy fuck you must be in real deep shit if you're asking me for a favour." Shigaraki said, the venom in his voice leeching away in his surprise. "The fuck have you gotten yourself into?"

"Aw you almost sound worried about me, that's adorable." Dabi smirked.

"Fuck you. I'm hanging up, sort out your own mess." Shigaraki snapped, all venom returning in an instant.

"Wait shit hold on, I'm-" Dabi ran a nervous hand through his hair as he watched his mother chat idly with the cashier through the store window. "I'm bringing a... friend... to the base, they need a safe place to crash and I need everyone to not ask questions."

"...You're fucking joking right? We're not a hotel Dabi, you can't just-"

"Please."

The phone fell dead silent for an agonising moment, Dabi's head fell back as he squeezed his eyes closed in silent prayer to whatever god might listen.

"Okay, you can bring them to the base, but you're going to tell me exactly what the fuck is going on. If I don't like their story I'm dusting this friend of yours where they stand, got it?"

Dabi let out a relieved breath he hadn't realised he was holding. The threat was an empty one, or at least it would be when Shigaraki discovered that Dabi's 'friend' was just an innocent civilian woman escaping a domestic abuser. The man was deranged but even he had some sympathy for those let down and left behind by hero society, it was why he tolerated the absolute lunacy of the dysfunctional codependent family he'd managed to form around himself.

"Got it, see you in an hour, and..." Dabi paused and rubbed at his eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. "And thank you, I owe you one."

"Ugh, don't thank me, you'll give me hives."

part 3 ~

[fishermanshook]

"You look, oddly familiar." (surviors! x gn!reader)

INTRO

A prompt where you knew said Survivor before they came to the manor. Your reason for coming here? Probably because of them.

꒰wc꒱ 1.0k words (grammar and spelling warning, mentions of abuse in Female Dancer’s part.)

The Enchantress

You and the Enchantress were together a lot as kids, or has your growing age started to wipe your memory clean? Do you struggle to remember such personal moments the two of you shared? Such a shame, as it's been over 5 years and you've yet to trace her location down. Has she disappeared from the world entirely? Seems like it, doesn't it?

Oh. Wait. There's a memory. An old one for sure, but a memory is still a memory. You and Patricia had spent what seemed to be every waking second together. So much so that Patricia's "mother" had started to see you as her own. Another child to take under her wing, and she gladly would. You understand that, right? Had she not taught you enough? The two of you had made a habit of strolling through New Orleans together, knowing almost every face that inhabited every corner of the city. You'd be down there for any number of reasons. To pick something up, to look for new ingredients, or just to look around the place you know by the back of your hand.

If the two of you had spent so much time with each other, then why didn't she tell you where the hell she went? She never left a note, a letter, or even a single clue as to where she ran off. So yes, when you received a letter stating to know her whereabouts you followed. Was it dumb? Oh for sure. But you would take every chance you could get to find her. You didn't even get to go up to her when you spotted her, she already knew.

"I wish you hadn't come," The Enchantress says with her back turned to yours. "but I can't help but be happy that you did." She chimed, turning around with a smile and a strange-looking artifact in her hand.

The Painter

You were there when it all started. You know, his painting thing. At first, he was a mess, paint slobbered all over his hands and face like a child. But I guess he was a child when he first picked up the paintbrush. Who would’ve known he would never put it down?

As Edgar’s talent increased, he started painting other things. Boats in the river, flowers growing outside, people strolling around the park where the two of you frequented. His drawings decorated his room and cluttered his bedroom floor.

For your 12th birthday, little Edgar (in all honesty) had forgotten about your birthday. The thought of it struck his mind at 1 in the morning as he quickly grabbed for his paints before whisking out a canvas. Throwing himself into his work, he produced his first of many portraits of you. From that point forward, it was a tradition for him to paint you for each birthday. No matter how many fights you had over his short temper or accidental paint spills imported from the other side of the country, you still received a packaged painting. Wrapped in fine silk with a “happy birthday” note tucked in between the folds. For you, he spared little to no expense. That is, until he got older.

It has been over two years since you've seen the man and you haven’t received a single portrait since. Arriving at the manor, you find him in the garden alone, painting a familiar portrait.

“It’s nice that you remember my face, as I’m starting to forget yours.” Your voice nearly makes him drop his paintbrush, as he whips around to meet you. You in all your stunning beauty, god, how you’ve grown from the small child he once knew.

Female Dancer

It is either that you met Nata-Margaretha in Lakeside Village or during your shared time spent in the Hullabaloo circus. Both experiences that you will not forget, but time makes things foggy. It blurs memories that were important to your life that you can no longer recall. But for the sake of going to bed without a piercing migraine tonight, your brain tells you it was during the circus.

Ah, now you're starting to remember things. As memories (some unwanted) come flooding back to you about the circus. A curious place that produced good and bad thoughts. Your mind flashes back to before the accident when time was spent helping Margie (a nickname used widely throughout the circus by many of its performers) tame animals and perform new jaw-dropping tricks to stun the audience. 

You remember when your ignorance of what was happening behind closed curtains came crashing down. When Margaretha came crying to you, sobbing that she needed to tell you something. She then began to show you bruises and cuts that littered her body, all deliberately hidden in places that couldn't be noticed unless further expected. To keep it short, you were shocked that "he" could do something this horrible, to decorate her upper body in purple and red marks. It was even more shocking that if anyone noticed, "he" would just brush it off and say that she got hurt while practicing. 

At that time, you knew you had to get her and yourself out of there. A lack of knowledge has landed your friend with bruises, cuts, and unwanted love from someone she thought she cared for.

You haven't seen Margaretha since the fire. Actually, you haven't seen anyone since the fire. Not Mike, not Murro, not even Violetta. But following breadcrumbs as to where they all went earned you a one-way ticket to the Oletus Manor, maybe your questions will be answered there.

"Margie?" You almost choke on your words. Seeing her for the first time in so long feels nostalgic. (how old are you again?) She can't even respond, she can’t even believe it's you. All you'll get from her is a death-griping hug and a stained shirt accompanied by her ever-flowing tears.

note: I love you Patricia (writers block is kicking my a rn)

(2024)©️fishermanshook — do not steal, translate, plagiarize, or repost my work on any other platform

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Why do people still go to Mostro Lounge if Azul enslaved 225 students? Like how is he not out of bussines

I DON’T KNOW 😭 I’ve never understood that part???? And how easily everything is resolved????

The end of book 3 tries to hand-wave it off as, “well, Azul implemented a point card system/promotion that was just so good that it compensated for all the negative rumors about the bad things he actually did” but like 💀 even then, I never bought it…

Consider the prices plus how the point card system and its perks work:

Assuming that you need 50 points to get that consultation with Azul + the items listed here are the only ones that qualify toward the point system, that means you'd be spending at LEAST 250 thaumarks (which I'm going to consider the equivalent to 250 USD for the sake of simplicity), if not 300 thaumarks. That's not including any potential tax or tip they may charge on top of the cost of the actual menu items. If you're going for the three-point card perks, you're easily spending 750 to 900 bucks on the Mostro Lounge. Maybe that seems like chump change to some of the rich, privileged kids that attend NRC but that's still a considerable amount of money to spend at one establishment... I'll concede that the argument can be made that this investment is "worth it" because of Azul's consultation being such a useful thing. It seems like you could ask him for anything, so long as its within his means. So yeah, it’s true, his services can be an extremely powerful boon to have on your side (assuming, of course, that he's capable of granting your wish and you agree to the terms set). The issue then becomes a matter of trust between client and Azul.

I don't know about you, but I cannot believe that after Azul tricked and enslaved 220+ students (over a QUARTER of the total student body) with his promises that everyone would so easily forgive what he did and suddenly trust that he wouldn't try pulling similar shit again. And since I doubt any mob would drop 250-300 thaumarks in one day just to get the consultation ASAP (but a bunch of food he can't eat), the points system would be a long term commitment... meaning mobs go into this establishment regularly, knowing that it's run by a guy that would double cross them if it benefitted him, weirdly trusting that he wouldn't???????? Trusting that he had a sudden change of heart and wouldn’t revert back to his old ways???????? Not holding grudges??????? Nah, I don't buy that one bit. AZUL'S REP WOULD BE IN THE TOILET, AND I DON'T THINK A GOOD DEAL ON EATERY LOYALTY WOULD REVERSE THAT... At that point, the mobs are practically begging to be scammed… Also???? The only thing that Crowley technically told Azul he can't do is to take anyone's powers 💀 so literally nothing is stopping Azul from trying to one-up or cheat his clients out of other things... Agreements like the one where he tried to claim Ramshackle Dorm for himself would still be totally valid under Crowley's new but poorly defined restrictions. Why doesn't the headmaster just forbid Azul from running his shady side business altogether 😭 or at least revoke the manager position from Azul?????? The school gets 10% of the lounge’s profits, so maybe Crowley doesn’t want to lose that income—but if that’s the case, why not just put new management in charge and still reap the monetary benefits??? Even just upping the percentage the school takes from their earnings would be more of a punishment…

I'm about to cancel this man on Magicam for his crimes/j I guess this is easily explained by the mob students all being dumb/arrogant, but that’s such a cop-out 😭 My only hope is that volume 3 of the light novel adaptation will go more in-depth about the post-OB backlash Azul experiences (similar to how it did for volume 1) 💦 because the way the game presents it, it feels like he and the Mostro Lounge made an almost immediate comeback 😭 which isn’t realistic at all…

I guess all I have left to say is…

[bleue-flora]

Write the autitic c!dream essay🙏🙏

Why I think c!Dream is Autistic - Part 1

[context]

[Part 1] - [Part 2] - [Part 3]

Welp… I guess while on the topic of neurodivergence now is as good as time as any to do this. So, at long last…

Since every version of this essay ended up way too long I’m going to break it into 3 parts, and I'm going to make more generalized statements for the sake of brevity. So, if there are things about this or autism in general you would like more clarification on or know more about, my asks are always open (though I do ask that you please wait to flood my inbox until after you’ve read all parts). I would also like to add that for the same reason of length, I am not going to go in depth on all of the facets of autism and diagnosing it. I am not a psychologist, and this essay is not about defining autism and going into full depth about what it is, but about the specific aspects of Dream and the dsmp that I think point to autism, based on what I know and more importantly my experiences as an autistic person. Having said that, just so we are on the same page - Autism means that our brains are literally structured differently (also known as neurodivergent), which means we think differently and process the world differently, it does not make us inferior or broken or less than larger society (neurotypicals), it only means we are human beings who are wired differently.

Now, for part 1 I’m going to briefly go into the traits Dream has that I think point to autism, keeping in mind that this is not necessarily all inclusive, these are not necessarily autism exclusive, and some of these can be effected with masking and personal growth. 

Highly obsessive - in general and for specific interest, to the point of not taking care of oneself, like forgetting to sleep, eat, shower, or just not caring enough to do so. 

Strong willed, determined and dedicated - not going to give up easily, willing to stay up training or farming for long hours or put in the work especially for our obsession. Our priorities aren’t always productive, but we are not ones for laziness.

Isolated - outcast, odd ball out, set apart, on the outskirts, loner, alone even if surrounded by people.

Highly intelligent - smart, clever, big brained, skilled, knowledgeable to the point of ground breaking (ex: Einstein, Elon Musk, Michelangelo, Beethoven, Leonardo da Vinci…etc)

Trouble with emotions and feelings - from recognizing them, processing them, letting ourselves experience them, understanding them, leading us to often then lash out, explode, or have a meltdown.

All about the facts and truth - sometimes to an abrasive and candid point where it can become more important than how people feel or the main point.

Logical mindset - making decisions based on logic and strategy rather than on emotions to the point of struggling to understand others when they follow no such logic

“Black and White” thinking - right and wrong, good or bad, yes or no, on or off, love it or hate it, friend or foe. Everything is in extremes.

Rule follower, one to fight for justice and for others - we are stubborn and in our strong conviction we are out against injustice and misinformation, fairness and what is right and true is imperative. 

Unable to forgive and forget - hard to let things go. Often have good memories and are able to remember things with the same detail as if it were happening again and not years ago. It doesn’t really fade with time and that makes us easily hold grudges, and hold things and behavior against people.

Resistant to change -  doesn’t matter how big or small nor whether it’s good or bad, we are enemies of change. We like to understand so uncertainty and new things are often disagreeable.

Able to recognize patterns - able to see the full picture, see history repeating itself and people’s behavioral tendencies, which makes us good at scheming and masterminding. We hate change so we want to predict things to avoid being surprised. 

Trouble articulating our point - stuttering and stumbling over our words, because our brains are moving too fast for our mouth to keep up and it’s hard to explain ourselves because our brain works differently. (we’ll talk about this more in part 2)

Struggle with body language? - I mean it’s hard to say given the Minecraft format, but to me wearing a mask could be to avoid having to make eye contact (which I hate) and appropriate facial expressions and stuff like that, which are pretty important in diagnosis. So while some headcanon that Dream wears a mask because he's too expressive and doesn't like being exposed I actually think it might be the opposite and saves him a lot of effort and brain power to not have to worry about his facial expression. :)

Stimming - (yes an ADHD thing but also an autistic thing and it's very common for someone to be both - like me ;D) vocally and physically often when more stressed, again hard to say for a Minecraft man, but I see him constantly moving like pacing the cell or jumping around and stuff as stimming and he does vocally stim on occasion as well.

Or in other words - Reasons I think c!Dream is autistic:

C!Dream = me, me = autistic -> c!Dream = autistic… boom, shortest essay ever XD lol jk 

But seriously it is a major reason. I read a tumblr c!Dream character analysis (don't remember who's) back before I even joined tumblr and related soo much, which is pretty concerning when you relate to a villain - because like wait does that make me a psychopath? but I have empathy and I care and I'm out to hurt people so why would I relate so much? And that's when I realized I think it is because he’s autistic like me so we think a like... I mean seriously the similarities are scarily uncanny down to things that have happened to me in real life…

Anyways, thank you for reading. I hope I made sense and got the idea across even by not going into super detail on all the points.

[genericpuff]

Hey, found you on reddit long long ago and have since been a follower. I wanted to say thanks for all of your essays, for your advice about comics and creative work in general, and especially for the coherent thoughts on webtoon as a company... seeing you do LR and just BE outspoken about the experience of working on webcomics and being a professional artist, it gives lots of people hoping to go into the industry or do that sort of work (myself included) the courage to stand on our feet. I saw in real time that reddit post you analyzed in your last post, and I've made the (honestly pretty scary) decision to stop publishing my own comic on WT completely and abandon ship for a third party site. Still trying to decide which would be best. It sucks feeling like you're abandoning an entire audience, but the knowledge that your work will remain your own and on your own conditions... that's far more valuable at the end of the day. So thanks for the (accidental) help with that decision, and I'll do my part in spreading the word. I really enjoy lore rekindled, thank you for all your efforts and hope you're having a great day :>

Aw hey! It's always humbling to hear that people find strength in my crazy wordy essays LOL I don't particularly like saying 'you're welcome' with this sorta thing so I guess I'll say, no prob, glad I could help? 😆

I understand all too well that fear of 'abandonment'. I'm currently in the process of moving all of my work off WT as well, notifying my readers, all that fun stuff. I've considered using it just as a mirror site for the sake of trying to get audience members, but honestly, I've been using it as my primary site for nearly a decade with no luck so keeping it on the platform even just as a mirror just feels... I dunno, like I'd just be getting the same results regardless. Especially now with the site going in the direction that it is, and the fact that they're clearly moving towards AI, at best I don't want my work to be bringing in the site any more traffic (even if it's just a drop in the bucket) and at worst I don't want my work to get scraped by AI or some shit down the road LOL I often wonder why I've bothered putting up with Webtoons for so long, when I left Tapas over far less. I think it's just the fear of being a disappointment. But really the only person I should be most concerned of disappointing is myself - and I don't want to continue to disappoint myself by sticking it out with a platform that's getting worse by the day.

Something that's helped me reframe my perspective on the "loss" of Webtoons as a platform is just viewing it less as 'abandoning' and more like 'upgrading'- upgrading the environment in which I host my work, so that it can be in a place that works for my goals and stories rather than against them. It's like the golden rule of dealing with employers, if you're not getting adequate raises or proper treatment, then you leverage your skills and experience into a better position. Nothing is forever, including webcomic platforms. But change doesn't have to be a bad thing, so long as you can use it to your advantage somehow.

Take what you can of your audience with you. Encourage them to try new spaces. Turn the transition into a party, get people so excited for it that they'll feel like they're missing out if they don't hop on! Have confidence, even if you don't have everything figured out yet. The readers that truly love your work and want to read it will follow.

And worst case... send me a link to your comic sometime and I'll do what I can ;) I'll see you on the other side of wherever our work ends up (•̀ᴗ•��)و

[inconveniently-discorporated]

I am here yet again getting pissed off by the anti-pride pearl-clutchers choking out, "B-- but how am I supposed to explain this to my children???!!!"

I bought a progress pride flag to take to the office and put on my inspiration board. Only, my daughter was having so much fun waving it around and finds it so pretty, I let her take it to preschool at her insistence, since the teacher was really encouraging about it.

When I first brought it home, she asked, "What's that?"

"A flag," I said.

"Oh," she replied. "What's it for?"

This was it -- this was the dreaded, heart wrenching moment that I had heard so many cry about as the reason why this god forsaken flag had no place in the public eye. Because the children, think about the children!! For heaven's sake, what will we tell the children??!!

I opened my mouth, and I said, very simply, "It's to celebrate the fact that everyone is different, and that people can love each other no matter what."

"Oh," she said, and she took off to run around the house with her swishy new fabric.

Phew. Crisis averted. She did not have a catastrophic meltdown at the suggestion that people different from herself existed. She did not immediately question the meaning of life or demand a detailed breakdown of bedroom olympics.

Later that day, she wanted to play "mommies and daddies", and she looked between her baby doll and me.

"Umm," she said. "I'm mommy, so I guess you be daddy?"

"We could both just be mommies," I offered. "Some families have two mommies, every family is different."

"Oh!" She didn't realize that was an option. "Okay, I'll be mommy and you be mommy. Baby is tired!"

She didn't know, she didn't care. She just wanted to play two people loving a baby and holding them and cuddling them and singing to them gently as we tucked them in (and yes I cried). Soon, we were Mommy and Grandma. At another point, her dad was Baby. At another, she was the baby.

How am I supposed to explain this to my kids? Pretty fucking easily.

Now -- here's one I have for those people.

My daughter will be going into kindergarten soon. She will likely start having active shooter drills. How, exactly, do they suggest I explain gun violence -- especially mass gun violence -- to my child?

How, exactly, do they suggest that I explain that it's really easy for people to hurt a lot of people, and no one is doing anything about it? How do I explain the "why"? How do I help her feel safe, when I can't even go grocery shopping without knowing where the exits are anymore?

It just pisses me off so much.

Anyway, happy pride! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[jongbross]

Ok so i can’t stop thinking about Baek’s photo at JD’s wedding , so can u do one where he meets again with the reader (ex) at one of their closest friends wedding and he revives all their moments together

Thanks

pairing: byun baekhyun x reader word count: 767 genre: fluffy with a tiny bit of angst i guess? warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex a/n: this was really cute and fun to write, thank you for requesting <3

baekhyun had a beer in his hand. the whole party was at the dance floor, enjoying the last moments of the reception before the newly wed couple left for the honeymoon.

still, he didn't feel the need to be there, celebrating, when he had you beside him.

it's been too long since the last time baekhyun saw you personally - because, in his dreams, he met you constantly. everyone, including you, knew how much he loved you and how he didn't want to break up with you two years ago.

the break up was your fault, you wanted it in the first place. it made sense at the time, to part ways with baekhyun, but seeing him again now... you couldn't even remember why you left him.

"that girl is still single", he commented, pointing at one of the bride's friends. "she can't seem to find someone. it's been what, three years?"

"four. she tried to flirt with you at my birthday party that time, remember?", you mindlessly said.

"oh, that's right!", baekhyun chuckled. "junmyeon was more offended at that than you were..."

you laughed too, at the memory of one of baekhyun's best friends lecturing the girl about how disrespectful she was towards you that night.

"he was so drunk...", you reminisced.

"he was just being junmyeon", baekhyun shrugged. "you remember how he called me the next morning to also say how rude it was that we both left the party earlier?"

"gosh, i just wanted to sleep that morning! why did you have to put the phone on the speaker?"

baekhyun laughed. "the lecture was for both of us, my love."

you hated how the pet name still made you shiver.

baekhyun took another sip of his beer, a big one. his pretty eyes scanned the venue, analyzing every face, sometimes shining whenever he'd see someone important to him.

"it's beautiful...", he whispered.

you wanted to agree, but you knew he wasn't talking about himself.

"what is beautiful?"

"the wedding, the people celebrating them", he looked down at his hands. "i always thought we would be the first ones to get married though, not them."

you cleared your throat at that, making baekhyun look at you.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, i just... i had to get that out of my chest."

you mumbled a tiny "it's okay", turning your attention to the party as well - but the way you could still feel baekhyun staring at you only made your stomach flip.

suddenly, like the universe was playing in baekhyun's favor, a song started to play; the song you and baekhyun always claimed was the perfect soundtrack for your relationship. promptly, he got up from his chair, putting his beer at the table and offering you a hand.

"would you dance with me?"

"baek..."

"for old times' sake... please", he softly said, and in his eyes you could see the longing.

so you took baekhyun's hand, allowed him to take you to the dancefloor. you let him put his hands around your waist, while you wrapped yours around his broad shoulders - all for old times' sake, of course.

you allowed him to guide your body, slowly moving to the beat of the song you knew so well.

"you remember the first time we danced to this song?", but it was you who was asking now.

"how could i forget?", baekhyun whispered, resting his chin on your shoulder.

it was right after you got accepted into a new job, and baekhyun had finally got to rent the new apartment he wanted. everything was working out for the two of you, so to celebrate you made dinner together, got slightly drunk with wine, danced to that song in your living room and made love on the floor. you were so in love.

now, you were at another job; baekhyun was still living at that apartment, even though it felt empty without you; you still knew the recipe baekhyun taught you that night, and the wine you two drank together was still baekhyun's favorite. and still, he was so in love with you.

"i miss you", he confessed, only for you to hear. "i-i'm sorry, but i do..."

as the song came to an end, baekhyun tried to get out of your embrace, but you only pulled him back in as another ballad started to play. you didn't know that one, but you knew you missed baekhyun too.

"shhh", you soothed him, caressing his neck. "you don't have to be sorry. just hold me a bit longer, please."

you didn't have to ask it twice.