#i've never been on a date and i'm closing in on 30 and i still haven't figured out how to be okay with that

[rainintheevening]

How do you build new plans for your life without giving up on the old dreams?

[forestgreenlesbian]

.

[cbeargyu]

what you want

summary: you and taeyong have been best friends since college, sharing your adult lives side by side—your flower shop, his branding firm, countless shared memories. but as you near your 30s, the yearning to become a mother grows unbearable. during a reunion trip to jeju island, a tipsy conversation turns into something tender, raw, and irreversible. what begins as comfort and shared vulnerability becomes something deeper—intimate confessions, unspoken love, and the beginning of a quiet forever.

pairing: bestfriend taeyong x fem!reader

genre: slow-burn, friends to lovers, emotional smut, soft romance, hurt/comfort, domestic fluff, eventual pregnancy.

warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex (consensual, emotional context), impregnatio, pregnancy mention, emotional vulnerability, suggestive adult themes (18+), heavy romantic tension with soft resolution.

wc: 4,5K

notes: hi hiiii, okay so i've been dying to read smutty taeyong fics lately and it's been ALMOST impossible to find 😭 like 90% are mxm and there's barely any tae x reader content out there... if anyone has recs pls drop them in the comments ily. alsooo it's probably painfully obvious by now that i'm obsessed with the whole breeding kink + domestic fluff combo BYE that's literally my favorite thing ever 😩🫠💗

you’ve always been close to taeyong.

since college, really—when you met in that ridiculously stuffy marketing class during your second year. he was late that day, hair still damp from a rushed shower, a printed branding portfolio tucked under one arm, and somehow, he still managed to slide into the seat beside you with an easy smile and that soft voice.

you became inseparable after that. group projects, late-night convenience store runs, silent study sessions that turned into hours of talking about everything and nothing. you built a quiet rhythm with him, one that never required a label or explanation.

you opened your flower shop right after graduation. taeyong built his own creative agency, specializing in branding and design—sleek, intentional, always poetic in its aesthetic. you sent him flowers for his launch day; he designed the logo for your storefront for free. "it’s a gift," he said when you tried to pay him, his voice warm over the phone. "besides, i owe you for all the coffee you bought me during thesis week."

now in your late twenties, things feel stable. solid. your dreams are real. you run a blooming business. taeyong’s agency is doing well. life, on the surface, is soft and good. but there’s one thing that sits heavily in your chest.

you want a baby.

you’ve wanted one for years. even when you were young, you imagined yourself as a mother before anything else—before being a florist, a business owner, a woman navigating city streets with earbuds in and a tote bag full of errands. you crave that connection, the physicality of pregnancy, the quiet intimacy of raising someone who came from you.

but dating? nonexistent. your schedule is tight, your circle small, and the men you do meet are more interested in weekend flings than parenting plans. you’ve been obsessively reading about IVF, sperm donors, even traditional remedies your grandmother used to whisper about. you bring it up to taeyong one night, half-laughing as you scroll through forums.

“i don’t know what to do,” you admit, looking over the rim of your mug at him. “i’m not seeing anyone. i don’t want to wait until i’m forty. and i want to carry them. i want to feel them growing inside me.”

taeyong goes quiet.

he doesn’t have the answers, but he listens. tells you that you’d make an amazing mother. suggests maybe you could consider adoption, but you shake your head gently.

“i want to be pregnant,” you whisper. “i want them to be mine from the start.”

he nods.

he doesn’t push.

a few days later, he messages you.

taeyonggie👺 [11:13am]: remember our old classmates? they’re planning a reunion trip to jeju. want to go? they said you’re welcome too.

you hesitate, then say yes. maybe a change of scenery is what you need. something about the sea and the quiet and the way jeju always smells like citrus and wind.

you don’t expect to feel so at ease.

you arrive together, him beside you on the plane, headphones shared between you as you both doze off mid-flight. you’re staying at a cozy hotel not far from the beach—modern but warm, all wood accents and soft lighting.

there’s a mix-up at check-in.

“two rooms for y/n and taeyong?” the clerk asks.

“no, just one,” taeyong corrects, glancing at you. “two beds, please.”

you nod. it’s nothing new. you’ve stayed over at each other’s apartments before. this is the same. right?

your room has two full-size beds, a window view of the ocean, and barely enough space for both your suitcases. you joke about how you’ll end up tripping over each other, and taeyong just grins, tossing his duffel onto the bed by the wall.

the first two days are calm.

nakamoto yuta—now a travel content creator, all sun-kissed skin and open laughter—is the life of the group. seulgi, working as a creative director for a fashion label, is effortlessly elegant, always with a camera around her neck. also in the group: kwon eunbi, a vocal coach; hwang minhyun, managing a production company; kim seolhyun, running a podcast on pop culture; and kim hanbin, now a choreographer.

you spend your days exploring the island.

taeyong helps you pick tangerines from the orchard. you braid small wildflowers into your hair, and he snaps a photo when you’re not looking. he buys you honey ice cream and insists on carrying your bag when your shoulder starts to ache.

it feels like nothing’s changed.

but there’s a moment.

you’re inside the hotel lounge, grabbing drinks. yuta and taeyong sit near the back, shoulders low, conversation soft between them.

“you still in love with her?” yuta asks, voice easy but not teasing.

taeyong chokes on his drink. coughs. blushes.

“no,” he says, eyes flickering. “i mean, not anymore. that was...college. i’m over it.”

yuta raises a brow. “you sure?”

taeyong doesn’t answer right away. his fingers tap against the glass, slow. thoughtful.

“she wants a baby,” he says eventually. “that’s all she talks about now.”

“so give her one,” yuta shrugs.

taeyong laughs quietly. like it’s ridiculous. like it’s tempting.

he doesn’t bring it up again.

but something shifts.

you notice him watching you a little longer than usual when you laugh. his gaze lingers on the curve of your jaw, the line of your collarbone, the way you absentmindedly rest a hand over your stomach when you’re lost in thought.

you don’t say anything either.

you’re still just friends.

sharing a room.

sharing a life.

almost.

dinner that night is golden.

the kind that stretches out with laughter, grilled seafood, tangerine wine, and flickering lanterns strung up between pine trees. the restaurant is open-air, tucked near the cliffside with a view of the ocean glowing beneath the full moon.

everyone's a little tipsy by the time dessert comes around. yuta’s telling stories about backpacking in morocco and the time he accidentally ended up at a wedding. seulgi keeps taking pictures of everyone's reactions, cheeks flushed from wine. hanbin and seolhyun are arguing about the best era of k-pop choreography. eunbi sings a soft verse of something nostalgic, and minhyun smiles so softly you wonder if he's thinking of someone he left behind.

taeyong is beside you. always beside you. refilling your glass with something citrusy. resting his arm along the back of your chair. letting his knee bump into yours and not pulling away. the heat from him is steady. familiar. almost too much.

later, the drinks keep flowing back at the hotel. minhyun brings out a bottle of plum soju he brought from seoul, and that’s when it really starts. shots. dares. flushed cheeks and slurred memories.

you’re warm. glowing. a little too honest.

“i mean it,” you say, your voice low, shoulders loose as you sit with taeyong on the floor by the balcony door, away from the noise. “i think about it every night. sometimes i dream about it.”

he looks at you, gentle. “dream about what?”

you lean your head against the windowpane, watching the wind rustle the curtain.

“having a baby,” you murmur. “being pregnant. the little kicks. the soft cries. the weight of them on my chest. it’s so clear in my mind. like… i can almost feel it already.”

taeyong swallows.

you’re drunk. not sloppy, just vulnerable in a way you rarely let yourself be.

“i’ve tried not to obsess over it,” you continue, voice quieter now. “but it’s hard. i want it so much. and i know it’s selfish to want the whole experience—the belly, the pain, the birth. i just… i don’t want to feel like i missed it, like i missed the chance to be the kind of mother i’ve always seen myself becoming.”

taeyong doesn’t know what to say. you can feel it in the silence. his fingers curl slightly, brushing the edge of your sweater.

“you’d be such a good dad, you know,” you say suddenly, eyes half-lidded, smiling gently now as the alcohol softens your words. “like… annoyingly good.”

taeyong blinks.

“you’d be the kind that warms up the milk just right. that kisses tiny foreheads. that always carries extra snacks. that reads the bedtime story even when he’s tired. you'd probably cry when they take their first step.”

he laughs under his breath, a little shaky. your words are melting something in him.

“and your baby would have your eyes,” you add, like it’s nothing. “those pretty lashes. and maybe your laugh. and you’d panic the first time they got sick. and hold them all night until they stopped crying.”

he’s staring at you now. full-on. wide-eyed, a little undone.

“you’d be so gentle,” you whisper. “you already are.”

taeyong shifts. swallows again. his voice is rough when he finally speaks. “don’t say that.”

you tilt your head, confused. “why not? it’s true.”

“because,” he breathes, gaze flicking down to your lips for half a second before pulling back to the ceiling. “you’re drunk. and i’m trying really hard not to do something i’ll regret.”

you blink slowly, the alcohol making everything feel suspended.

you’re suddenly aware of how close you are. how intimate this has always been. not the words. not the night. just you and him.

taeyong stands. runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.

“i’m gonna get some water,” he mumbles, stepping away from the room.

you stay behind, heartbeat thudding, his warmth still lingering beside you.

you meant every word.

but you don’t know if he’ll ever believe that.

taeyong returns to the table with your glass of water clutched between his fingers like it’s something to hold himself together. his pulse is still uneven, the weight of your words clinging to him like sea salt in the air—soft but undeniable.

you’re laughing at something when he returns. yuta’s grinning, telling a story about a disastrous photoshoot in cambodia that involved a monkey, a drone, and his own foolish confidence. your cheeks are still flushed, but your expression dims a little when your eyes catch his, like you can feel the shift. like you remember what you said.

taeyong sets the glass in front of you gently, and you whisper a quiet “thanks” without looking up.

he doesn’t sit down again. instead, he hovers, letting the chatter of the group wash over him, standing on the edge of it all. seulgi pulls hanbin into a debate about concept staging in idol tours, seolhyun’s already half-asleep on the couch, and minhyun is texting someone with a small smile. the night has thinned out. the fire outside has died, leaving only the dim golden lights strung overhead and the soft hum of a playlist playing someone’s nostalgic mix of late 2010s ballads.

by the time the clock hits nearly two in the morning, someone mumbles about calling it a night.

you blink blearily, your words slurring just a bit now, your weight leaning more and more toward the backrest of the couch. taeyong’s already there before anyone else moves, slipping a hand beneath your elbow and helping you to your feet like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“come on,” he says quietly, warm breath by your temple. “let’s get you to bed.”

you nod sleepily, your body soft, trusting. your fingers find the edge of his jacket sleeve as he steadies you, and he doesn’t pull away. the walk to the room is silent, the hallways dim and muffled. your steps are clumsy, and he catches you more than once, his hand curling around your waist like second nature.

inside the room, it’s dim and warm. the faint scent of saltwater and clean cotton lingers in the air from earlier. you collapse on the edge of the bed you claimed the night before, one of two queen mattresses sitting side by side with a single nightstand in between. the tension returns with the silence, thick and cloying. he walks to the dresser and grabs a bottle of water, offering it to you.

you drink half of it. then sit there. watching him.

he avoids your gaze at first. fiddles with the hem of his shirt. looks out the window like he might say something—then stops himself.

but you’re still drunk. and honest. and maybe a little bold in the way you never let yourself be.

“you know,” you start, voice quiet, “i wasn’t drunk when i said you’d make a good dad.”

taeyong turns slowly. you meet his eyes.

you swallow thickly, fingers wringing the edge of your pajama top. “i’ve thought about it before.”

he blinks, lips parting like he wants to ask but isn’t sure if he should.

you continue.

"not just in the abstract. not just... you as someone’s dad. but you as my—" you stop, heat blooming up your neck. you exhale. “sometimes, i think about what it’d be like if you were the one.”

he says nothing, but his expression crumbles—something tender and wounded flickering behind his eyes.

“i mean, we’ve been in each other’s lives forever,” you say, softer now. “we grew up together in every way that matters. you’ve seen me fail and get back up and fall apart again. you’ve never walked away. not once. not even when i was unbearable. i trust you with everything. i always have.”

taeyong doesn’t breathe.

you keep going.

“so yeah. i think about it sometimes. about what it’d be like to have your kid. to raise them with you. to wake up to you and a messy little human with sleepy eyes and your stupid laugh. and maybe i’m insane, maybe it’s just my hormones or my loneliness or whatever—but the thought doesn’t scare me. it grounds me.”

you laugh, a little bitterly, wiping at the corner of your eye. “and that’s the worst part. because i know you don’t see me that way. or if you did once, it’s long gone. and i shouldn’t be saying this—i know that. but there’s something about tonight that makes me feel like i’ll burst if i don’t.”

taeyong moves before you can finish.

quiet. careful.

he kneels in front of you. not touching you. not yet. just there, looking up at you like he’s memorizing every curve of your face.

his voice is raw.

“don’t say i don’t see you.”

you meet his eyes.

“i’ve always seen you.”

your breath hitches.

taeyong lets out a quiet, shaky laugh. “you talk about me being a dad like i wouldn’t spend every second wondering how the hell i got so lucky to build a life with you. like i haven’t already imagined it too. maybe not with words. maybe not out loud. but… i have.”

you whisper, “you have?”

he nods.

“every time you smile like that. every time you bring me coffee with your name scribbled next to mine. every time you hug me like home. yes. i have.”

you don’t move.

he reaches for your hand—slow, reverent, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“but i never let myself say it,” he murmurs. “because i didn’t want to mess this up. not with us. not with you. and definitely not like this. but if i’m being honest… the thought of you carrying my child?” he swallows. “that doesn’t scare me either.”

the room is silent.

you stare at him, your fingers trembling in his grip.

you whisper, “then kiss me.”

he does.

not rushed. not heated.

just true.

the kind of kiss that feels like coming home after years of wandering.

like maybe—just maybe—you weren’t crazy after all.

the kiss deepens slowly.

taeyong’s hands are warm on your cheeks, cradling you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held. you melt under his touch, your fingers sliding up his neck, into his hair, pulling him closer, closer still—like you’re afraid he’ll vanish if you let go.

he’s the one who gasps first when your lips part just enough to whisper his name. it falls from your mouth like a secret you’ve kept buried for too long, and he swallows it whole.

he pulls back slightly, forehead resting against yours, his thumbs brushing over your flushed skin. you can feel his heart racing beneath his shirt.

“y/n…” his voice is hoarse. “are you sure?”

you nod, soft and breathless. “i’ve never been more sure.”

and there’s something in your voice—something so certain, so full of quiet longing—that makes taeyong inhale like he’s taking you in for the first time.

his lips find yours again, slower now, more deliberate. his touch trails from your face to your waist, pulling you gently into his lap, like he needs you close enough to feel everything—the way your body trembles against his, the way your thighs tighten around his hips, the way your breath stutters when his mouth moves down your neck.

he tastes your skin like a prayer, like something he’s dreamt about in the quiet hours of the night when your voice was the only thing that could calm him down.

you whisper into the space between kisses, into the curve of his jaw, “i want it to be you.”

his breath hitches.

“i want your baby,” you murmur, your hand pressing over his chest, right where his heart is pounding. “i want to carry your child. someone small and perfect and warm, someone who has your eyes… your smile.”

taeyong lets out the softest sound, almost like a whimper, and you feel his fingers tighten on your hips, his body tensing like he’s trying to hold himself back.

you lean into his ear and say it again—this time slower, your voice shaking. “i want your baby inside me, tae.”

his hands slide up your sides, under your shirt, reverent and gentle. “god,” he breathes. “you have no idea what that does to me.”

“tell me.”

he leans back just enough to look at you—really look at you. his pupils are blown wide, his cheeks flushed, lips swollen and parted.

“i think about it all the time,” he says, barely more than a whisper. “what you’d look like with my baby growing inside you. your belly round and soft, your body glowing. coming home to you with your shirt stretched over the bump, your hands cradling it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.”

he presses a kiss to your collarbone, then another, lower. “i want to see you like that. i want to wake up and run my hands over your belly, feel it kick. talk to it. kiss it.”

you whimper, your fingers knotting in his hair. “tae…”

his hands slip beneath the waistband of your shorts, thumbs brushing over your hipbones like they belong there. “i want to fill you up,” he murmurs, voice thick and trembling. “not just for tonight. not just for the fantasy. i want this to meansomething. it does mean something.”

you nod, cupping his face. “i know. it does to me too.”

he kisses you again, deeper now, one hand at the small of your back, guiding you down onto the mattress. the room is quiet, lit only by the moonlight spilling through the window, and everything feels soft. intimate. warm.

he undresses you slowly, carefully, as if every piece of clothing he removes reveals another piece of your heart. your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer until there’s no space between you, nothing but breath and bare skin and whispered names.

when he enters you, it’s slow and deep, like he’s savoring every inch, like he’s trying to memorize the way you feel wrapped around him. your back arches, and he moans into your neck, your name a broken sound on his lips.

you’re both trembling—emotion thick in your chests, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. because it’s not just sex. not just lust. it’s home. it’s years of friendship and quiet yearning finally coming undone in the safest way possible.

taeyong presses a kiss to your temple and whispers, “you’re perfect. you’re mine.”

you cradle his face in your hands, smiling through the tears. “give me everything, tae. i want to feel you. all of you. i want to feel you stay.”

his rhythm falters, just for a second, overcome by the weight of it all. “i’ll give you everything. i’ll give you a family.”

you tighten around him at the words, gasping.

“i want to make you a mom,” he whispers. “tonight.”

you nod frantically, lips parting, “do it. please. i want to feel it—i want to feel you—when you fill me.”

taeyong groans, hips stuttering, burying his face in your neck. “fuck. y/n…”

you whisper, “put a baby in me, tae.”

he thrusts deeper, harder now, the restraint beginning to crumble. your bodies are slick with sweat, moving together with a kind of desperation that feels like both a beginning and a promise.

when he finishes—inside, just like you wanted—it’s with a gasp, his arms locked around you tight, like he’s scared to let go. and for a long moment, neither of you move.

“i want you full of me,” he says against your mouth, already hardening again. “i want to make sure.”

you nod, dazed. open. warm.

“don’t stop,” you whisper. “please don’t stop.”

and he doesn’t.

he makes love to you over and over again, slow and focused, like each time is another chance to seal your wish into reality. sometimes he holds your hips, watching your face as you fall apart for him. other times he lays you on your side, kissing your shoulder while whispering how beautiful you are, how perfect you’d be with his child inside you.

when dawn breaks, you’re tangled together in silence. your body aches, sweet and sated. your thighs sticky, your heart full. his hand rests on your stomach again, like he’s already waiting.

he is groaning your name, whispering over and over, “mine. you’re mine. our baby. our future.”

you’re crying. he is too.

and when the trembling stops and the world is still again, he kisses your lips, then your cheeks, then your stomach.

“i can’t wait to see you grow,” he whispers, resting his head just below your ribs.

you run your fingers through his hair, heart pounding.

you whisper back, “i hope it has your eyes.”

the sunlight pours through the thin curtains like a slow, golden confession. the air smells like salt and lemon shampoo. taeyong wakes up first this time, his arm heavy over your waist, your back pressed flush against his chest. sunlight filters through the cream-colored curtains, warming the bare skin of your shoulder.

it kisses your bare shoulder first, then the soft curve of your waist, then the scattered marks taeyong left across your chest like constellations only he could read.

you’re the first to stir, eyelids fluttering open to the unfamiliar ceiling of the hotel room. for a second, you forget where you are. but then you shift slightly and feel the weight of an arm draped across your stomach, the steady rise and fall of a chest pressed into your back, and the unmistakable warmth of taeyong’s body, still wrapped around you like a second skin.

his breath ghosts against your nape, slow and deep, and you realize he hasn’t let go of you all night. not once.

you smile.

when you turn your head just enough to see his face, it nearly knocks the air out of your lungs. he’s peaceful like this—softer, younger somehow. his lashes rest against his cheeks, and his mouth is parted slightly, lips still swollen from all the kisses you gave him. his hand, large and warm, is splayed gently across your lower belly, protective and possessive in the same breath.

you reach down and lace your fingers with his.

as if he feels it, he stirs, humming sleepily against your skin. his nose nuzzles into your shoulder. “mmm… morning,” he mumbles, voice thick and low, still soaked in sleep.

you twist around slowly in his hold so you’re facing him. he blinks a few times, eyes still heavy, but when they focus on you, they soften in that way they always have—like you’re the center of his world and he’s been waiting all night just to see you again.

“you stayed,” you whisper, thumb brushing his cheekbone.

he smiles lazily, eyes fluttering shut again. “of course i did. where else would i go?”

you tuck yourself into his chest, your nose against his collarbone. “you feel so warm…”

his arms tighten around you instantly, drawing you closer until there’s no space between you. “you kept me warm first,” he murmurs, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “i didn’t want to let go.”

you stay like that for a while. breathing together. existing.

and then you feel him shift, one hand still resting over your belly, thumb drawing lazy, absent-minded circles over the skin there. he hums, low in his throat. “do you think… do you think it worked?”

your breath catches.

you look up at him, searching his face. he’s watching you carefully now, no longer groggy, eyes wide open and impossibly tender.

“i don’t know,” you whisper. “maybe.”

he leans in, kisses your forehead. then your temple. then the spot just below your eye. “i kind of hope it did.”

you feel your throat tighten with emotion.

“you do?”

“mmhm,” he nods, nudging his nose against yours. “i kept thinking about it last night… the way you’d look months from now. the way i’d get to take care of you. rub your back. cook for you. kiss your belly every morning.”

you let out a small laugh, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand.

“i’d be so annoying,” you murmur. “always crying. craving weird stuff. complaining about everything.”

he smiles, brushing your hair behind your ear. “you’d be perfect. i’d love you more every day. and our baby… our baby would be lucky.”

you bury your face in his chest, overwhelmed by the sweetness of it. the certainty.

he strokes your back gently. “and if it didn’t happen this time… we try again,” he says softly. “no rush. no pressure. just us. just love.”

you pull back, tearful and smiling all at once. “you want to try again already?”

he grins, lips brushing your cheek. “i want to make love to you every morning for the rest of my life. but yes… also for the baby.”

you laugh, breathless, and he kisses the sound right out of you.

his hands start to wander again—slow, exploring, remembering. he murmurs against your lips, “can i stay inside you today too? just like this… all day?”

you nod, whispering, “don’t leave me empty.”

and he doesn’t.

he makes love to you again—this time slow and languid, under the weight of sunlight and morning warmth. he kisses your face like you’re already glowing. like you’re already carrying a part of him.

when he comes again, deep inside you, he doesn’t look away. he holds you through it. kisses your tears. whispers your name like a promise.

afterward, he pulls the blanket over your bodies, still tangled. still joined. he keeps his hand on your belly, and you both stay quiet, smiling softly.

as if the future is already there.

[genderqueerdykes]

Hello, my niece made this account for me and said I should submit my question to your blog. I’m terribly sorry if this doesn’t belong here. I turned 65 this year and have recently come to accept that I am gay. I have never been on a date with anyone in my life and have never had a social circle. I was only ever close to my brother and sister-in-law and their kids. I only came out to my niece because she’s 30 and bisexual and has been a safe person to talk to, but she has been trying to encourage me to go to a group that she has gone to before. It’s a group that meets at a coffee shop in our city and is for the local lgbtq community. Allies can attend so I don’t have to come out, but I’m scared I will want to. I feel too far past my time to join the community or have a “first boyfriend.” Am I too old for all of this?

this absolutely belongs here, i'm glad your niece helped you create an account here to get some advice, i'm actually really touched!! this warmed my heart a lot

you are DEFINITELY not too old for this!! no one is ever too old for community! elder queers are some of the most important members of our community- if anything, if you go, younger queer people will be over the moon to see someone your age, still identifying as queer, still living, still wanting to be yourself and to accept who you are. it's nerve wracking at first to think about. i joined my college's pride group when i was around 19 or so, and i was scared to death. i also felt like i didn't belong. i think a lot of queer people go through that, you are not alone! it's unfamiliar to you. you're taking a big step in life, change can be downright frightening even if it's what we want

i have met lots of people your age who did not realize they were gay, lesbian, trans, bi, or any other type of queer until much later in life! i've known trans men who didn't figure themselves out and start T until they were in their 70s! i met a trans woman last night who didn't realize she was trans until she turned 60! i think that coffee shop would be absolutely delighted to have you! you don't have to out yourself at all, but if you find yourself feeling comfortable enough to share, please feel free to. your story deserves to be heard. you deserve to be able to express yourself in a welcoming environment!

i hope you're able to go, i think that sounds like it would be very healing for you! i'm really proud of you for realizing who you are and accepting it, and i'm glad your niece is able to be there for you! i genuinely teared up reading this. you are a blessing on our community, not a burden. you will never be too old to be yourself, and surround yourself with people who get you. take care of yourself, okay? please feel free to stop by at any point! i am so happy for you and would love to hear how things go if you do decide to hang out at that coffee shop!

some wonderful additions:

[urbaebarnes]

flowers pt.2

first part here!

summary: how could you ever refuse the handsome mob boss when he asks you out on a date

mob boss bucky barnes x fem flower shop owner reader

warnings: curse words, reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n (thats it I think?)

here it is! i've honestly loved writing this. also, i'm from england and i've never been to new york, let alone Brooklyn museum so excuse my horrible knowledge.

word count: 3.6k words

You hadn’t fully expected for Bucky to come back, part of you was sure this had to be some sort of whirlwind misinterpretation on your part, but as you opened your shutters the next day, there he was. 

His outfit looked the same as the previous day, his smile wide as you immediately spotted his face through the window. Bucky waved to you through the glass, putting his phone in his back pocket as he swung his legs whilst walking to the door, hands behind his back. “Morning Bucky.” You greeted, opening the door as the small bell rang out. 

He smirked at your voice, nose scrunching as he walked inside, wiping his feet on the small doormat, “I see you remember our deal.”

“Well, you’re a hard man to forget.” You smile, watching as he tilted his head at some yellow columbines. “What brings you back?”

He listed his head from the flowers he was inspecting, his grin toothy as he pulled your slipping cardigan back onto your shoulder. “You.” He said shortly, running his thumb over your shoulder. “Can't keep you out my mind doll, you’ve been running laps up there” He tapped the side of his head twice as you giggled, “Jesus, you can’t go laughing like that, you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

You shook your head, unable to suppress the grin on your face at his compliments. “You’re so cheesy.” You laugh as he nods, face nearing yours.

“Just for you, sugar.”

You can feel your heart skip a beat as he nears you, lips parting but failing to find a remark as his breath fanned across your face. One of his hands lightly swept some sleep from under your eye, his fingertips resting under your jaw.

“I want to take you out, if you’d like that.” He murmured, licking his lips as his eyes traced your every movement.

You considered the offer, obviously you’d love that, this was Bucky the devilishly handsome man who watched you with an intensity that rivaled the bird that stared at your window every morning. But, this was also Bucky, the widely feared mob boss that was likely in constant danger and there were probably so many negatives, but you couldn’t quite think when his lips were so very close to your face.

God, Wanda was going to be pissed. “I’d love that.” You said quietly, biting your bottom lip and letting it pop out as he tilted his head, nodding to himself.

“That’s good, that’s… okay.” His tongue flicked over his tongue as he took a step back, hands on his hips. “Someone will come and pick you up at 7:30.” He smiled to himself as you nodded and he picked up a bouquet, inhaling deeply as he craned his neck into the flowers.

You shook your head as he walked towards the till, your face flushed and breathing slightly irregular at the sight of the so called ‘scary’ mob boss looking ever so soft as he stuck his face in the flowers, a shit eating grin on his face never leaving ever since you’d said yes.

“I see you’ve scaled down from last time.” You said, glancing at his this time singular bouquet compared to his two bundles the previous day. His face instantly dropped as he turned around, glancing at the ones that were there before picking another. Your jaw fell open as he picked it up, “Bucky, that isn’t what I mea-”

“Who would I be if I didn’t support small businesses, hm?” He smiled, nose scrunching.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” His words were short, and his tilted head was enough for you to nod reluctantly as he placed down a wad of cash on the counter.

“No, no I don’t need your money.” You tried to refuse, but he’d already turned around, “Bucky!” You called after him as he opened the door, still clutching the money like it had been given as a nasty prank.

“7:30!” He turned, head tilting over his shoulder as he once again continued walking down the street. As you turned your head, you were greeted with Wanda’s face pressed up against the glass window of her shop.

Her face is squished against the glass, watching him happily stride away from you before she ruan out the shop herself, landing beside you within seconds. “Why is he practically skipping?” She questioned suspiciously.

“He’s not.” You shook your head, biting your cheek to try and hide the smile fighting its way to be on your face.

After your encounter with Bucky yesterday, you’d decided against telling Wanda his sweet talking words or the deal they’d made. You’d known her just over a week, and although being your closest friend probably ever, you knew her thoughts on the man and didn’t want to stir up any ideas until you knew his true intentions. Although, this didn’t exactly seem like a situation you could wiggle your way out of.

“No, he’s definitely got a spring in his step.” She narrowed her eyes, “And why’d he get two bouquets, that’s too many to carry.”

You couldn’t hold back your laugh any longer as you smiled at her, “You have to promise not to be mad.” 

Her face fell, “God, please don’t tell me you’ve sold your hand in marriage to him or some crazy shit like that-we could probably stay at my parents in Sokovia when we run awa-”

“No!” You quickly interrupted, laughing even harder, “No, I haven’t sold my hand in marriage to him, what made you think that?”

“Well… I don’t know, leave me alone!” She pretended to pout, laughing at herself, “I don’t think I could ever be mad at you though, seriously.” 

You nodded, “So… I have a date.” You announced, itching your head and watching the ground as her face morphed into a shocked expression, mouth dropping and eyes widening as she looked to where Bucky had been walking to the now empty sidewalk. “And it’s-”

“It’s with him, oh my god!” She gasped, running a hand through her curled auburn locks. “This is, well better than marriage, but still, this is- and you want to go on this date?”

Her arms quickly crossed, eyes flashing with caution as you nodded your head, “He’s nice, really nice, and really handsome.” You smiled as she grabbed your hands.

“I’ll take your word for it, sweets.” She giggled, “What time’s he coming?”

“7:30.” You said, fiddling with the hem of your cardigan, “I don’t even know what to wear or where we’re going and I’m trying really hard not to overthink.” You confessed as she took your hand that was pulling at the threads of your cardigan into her hands, clasping around it.

“Don’t panic, it’s fine, you’re perfect. Barnes, he doesn’t date, it’s like part of his whole thing, girls could fling themselves in his face and he pays no mind to it, so the fact he’s taken an interest in you is kinda a big deal. Just if you wanted any more proof about how amazing you are.” She grinned, hands wrapped tightly around yours as she squeezed them. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Actually I have lots of things to worry about.” You counter, “Like what I’m supposed to wear, I don’t know where we’re going so how am I supposed to-”

Wanda quickly cut you off, head tilted, “You could show up in nothing and I doubt he could take his eyes off you.” She paused, processing her own words for a second as you blinked at her. “Okay that was a bad example, I definitely don’t think he could take his eyes off you if you were naked.” She giggled.

“I get it, I get it.” You reassured her, “I’m excited though, it’s just burying itself under all the worrying.” 

There was a loud crash from the open door of Wanda’s bakery, diverting both your attention to your limited views of Pietro trying to pick up a metal bowl from the floor. “I can’t leave him for two minutes.” She mumbled under her breath, “I’m gonna love you and leave you.” She said sweetly before turning around, “Pietro!”

You laugh as she storms through the door, turning back to your shop to see Stan waiting outside, “Oh Lord, morning, sorry, let me…” You jogged to the door, holding it open for him as he thanked you, “I just got caught up in something, the usual?”

Your day had flown by with customers filling up every moment, crowning it your busiest day since opening. Plus, Wanda would run across the street, two dresses in hand as she forced you to pick between two beautiful outfits until finally, by shop closing, you knew exactly what you were going to wear.

Wanda had insisted that you get ready with her anyway, stating that you’d left out all the details around her third visit with a tight fitting black dress and a light yellow checkered sundress. The bakery had been slow, even after Pietro scared away all the birds within a ten mile radius, so after you’d finally picked the last dress, she sat on the counter and helped pick flowers that would suit a young boy’s girlfriend’s dress that he had a picture of on his phone.

Wanda’s exterior excitement was fairly equal to your interior, but after the long day, you couldn’t quite jump everywhere she did, even if her movement was a visual representation of your heart. You hadn’t been on a date in years, often turning down guys quickly, but this time you were ready, and beyond excited.

You got ready leisurely in her room, both of you singing along to your favourite songs as you were left with half an hour before your date. Between the two of you, you’d settled on something elegant but still simple enough that it could be classed as casual.

At exactly 7:30, you peeked your head around Wanda’s curtains to find a black car parked outside your shop, the windows all blacked out. “You think that’s for me?” You questioned nervously.

Wanda laughed behind you, grabbing your shoulders and straightening your posture, handing you your bag with a grin. “No, it’s obviously for Pietro.” She giggled as her brother popped his head around the corner, letting out a small ‘hey!’ in offence.

She led you, hand in hand down the stairs till you reached the door, turning to you once again. “Okay, be safe, message me if you need anything, and if you’re not coming back, otherwise I’m going to gather the troops and send out a search party, understand?”

“Yes captain.” You mocked with a laugh, “I’ll be fine.”

“I know, I know.” She said, opening the door, “Have fun!” She shouted as you stepped towards the car, a man with his back to you scanning the front of the bakery.

“Excuse me-” You said cautiously, suddenly overwhelmed with the embarrassing thought that maybe this car wasn’t for you and they were simply observing the shop.

But all your thoughts were instantly dashed as the man turned around and greeted you with a wave. “Mr Barnes sent us.”

“Ah.” You say with a small smile, hands intertwined in front of your stomach as you face the kid, who front the back, looks an awful lot more like an adult, “Do I get a proper introduction this time, or are you still not supposed to introduce yourself?”

“Well, Mr Barnes told us to do anything you wanted, so I guess that means I’m allowed to-” He quickly jumped round to your side of the car, opening the door for you to the back as he rambled, although he was quickly cut of by the brown haired man sat in the driver's seat.

“He’s Peter Parker, and I’m Tony Stark, lovely to meet you.” Tony put it simply, nodding to the side for Peter to get in, “Sorry, he’s learning.” He said quietly as Peter forgot to shut your door and instead hopped in the front, only noticing as you shut it.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” You chuckled, observing the cream interior of the car and strapping yourself in. “So you’re taking me to meet Bucky?” You checked.

“Yeah, he apologizes that he couldn’t come and pick you up but he had to prepare some things.” Tony said, his tone an awful lot more relaxed than Peter. “Pete, take a chill pill.” He mumbled.

“We’re um, we’re here as security too, normally then he gets Happy to drive people places but he wanted to take special measures to k-” Peter’s ranting was stopped as Tony gently whacked his shoulder. “I wasn’t supposed to mention that.” He cringed, face retorting.

You smiled softly, tilting your head, “It’s okay, your secrets safe with me, Peter.” He sighed, almost relieved as Tony shook his head in laughter, driving through the seemingly quieter streets. “Can I ask where we’re going?”

“That’s probably the only thing we’re explicitly not allowed to tell you.” Tony chuckled, “Boss wanted to keep it a secret.”

You nodded, chewing on your cheek nervously watching the streets pass until you slowed approaching Brooklyn Museum. As the car slowed, you spotted a man in a dark suit walking down the stairs, combing his hands through his hair.

Peter got out to open the door as you gracefully exited the car, thanking him as the figure quickly morphed into the man you felt like you’d known for years. “Hi doll.” Bucky greeted with a wide smile, glancing back at the museum almost nervously.

“Hi.” You smiled, both of you looking to your right where Peter lingered almost awkwardly before Bucky smirked and nodded for him to get back in the car which he did with a small grin, giving you a not so secret thumbs up.

“They got you here okay?” He questioned, never letting his steel blue eyes leave yours.

“They were perfect.” You smiled, watching as he bounced his arm against his leg and, before fully realising what you were doing, you grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers together.

He let out a sigh of relief as a lazy smile made its way onto his face, it was stupid how your heart instantly felt as though it was on the verge of running away, escaping to be with his. “And how are you feeling, pretty girl.” He swung your hands together, slowly leading you towards the steps leading to the museum. “Nervous?”

“Maybe a little.” You admitted, letting him lead you up the staircase, as you smiled, “But I’m excited.”

He smirked at that as you reached the top, “Good, I’m excited too. You ever been here before?” He nodded to the grand looking building.

“Nope.” You grinned, “It’s been on my bucket list of things to do though, ever since I moved here, but I haven’t got round to it.”

Bucky lifted your intertwined hands to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “Seems like what you’ve got there is a date list, doll.”

You laughed as the two of you wandered through the doors, your eyes instantly scanning your surroundings. It was silent, not a soul in sight as Bukcy glanced at you nervously. “Is there anybody else…?”

“Just us, sugar.” He said gently as he tugged on your hand gently to go and admire the various pieces of art and artefacts scattered around the museum. It was beautiful, and it all seemed slightly more calming with just you and Bucky, never once letting go of one another’s hands as you explored the hallways. 

You got to talking not just about what you were seeing in front of you, but also about your lives. Bucky told you he grew up around here with his younger siblings. His parents were some of the kindest people he’d ever met, even though they were wrapped up in a life many deemed unsuitable. 

Bucky seemed to dance around the topic of his work, shaking it off with a smile and shrug whenever he caught himself talking about it. Instead, he talked about how he preferred sunrises over sunsets and cats over dogs and hot dogs over burgers. You told him all about your family and friends -well, Wanda and your favourite customers- and he let you ramble about flowers as much as you wanted.

As you stopped in front of one piece, he let his hand drop from yours, and just for the shortest moment you thought you’d done something wrong. That was until you felt his arm snake around your back, resting on your hip. When you tried to look up and meet his eyes, he simply looked straight ahead, cheeks dusted with pink as he bit back a grin, humming as he glanced at the painting.

“You’re cute.” You giggled which drew his attention to your smiling figure, bottom lip tucked in between your teeth.

“I’m whatever you want me to be, doll.”

You’d taken the lead most of the time in the direction you were heading, but after he’d glanced at his watch, he was insistent you had to walk back, taking your hand back and gently dragging you, trying to run off. Little did he know he’d already ran off with your heart.

You laughed, eventually jogging after him, both laughing like absolute idiots as your squeaks and laughter echoed throughout the halls. By the time he stopped, you almost fell into him, taking a minute to stare at his face, which Bukcy was more than happy to indulge in, thumb stroking over your jaw till he tilted your head to the right to see in the middle of the great hall, was a circular table with plates of steaming food already placed down.

“Bucky…” You trailed off as he stood behind you, both his hands resting on your hips, head next to your ear.

“You like it?” Bucky Barnes was many things, and confidence was normally one of them, but as he whispered in your ear, you couldn’t help but think that he sounded more anxious than self-assured. 

“I love it.” You smiled, spinning around so his arms were wrapped around you, enclosing you tightly as you pecked his cheek. “This is incredible.”

Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes from you, cheek tingling where your lips had brushed his skin. He had to resist the urge to drag his hand across his cheek, savouring the feeling for a little longer, but he couldn’t bring himself to drag his hands from where they rested on your body. “Second date worthy, incredible?” He questioned.

“You can take me out on as many dates as you want.” You laughed, head tilting back over your shoulder as you glanced back to the food.

He smiled, nodding to the table, “You like spaghetti?”

You grinned widely as he led you over the blue squared floor, pulling your chair out as you planted yourself in the seat, hands resting in your lap as Bucky took his seat across the candlelit table underneath the glass roof, revealing the starry night above you.

Dinner was perfect, Bucky was perfect, this whole date was perfect and beyond everything you’d ever wanted. You were sure the sound of Bucky’s laughter could bring a smile to the most moody of people’s faces and his smile was sure to light up rooms brighter than the chandelier hung across from you.

By the time it was over, you were both sad to have to leave one another’s company so quickly, even if it had been hours. The pitch black sky seemed to engulf all the buildings visible as you left the building. Your shivering stance had caught Bucky’s eye as he shrugged off his own jacket and hung it over your shoulders with a quick denial of feeling the cold.

A red car was parked where you had previously been dropped off. Bucky opened the passenger door for you this time, letting you sit in the comfortable car and place your bag by your feet. 

The silence on your ride home wasn’t as daunting as you’d expected, more comfortable as he took your hand in his again, resting them in the centre console as he kept one hand on the wheel, driving through the streets of New York as though he could do it with his eyes closed.

When you finally pulled up, neither of you moved for a few minutes, just sitting like that, savouring your moments together before he sighed, getting out the car and strolling round to your side, opening your door for you. You were sure he was the textbook definition of a gentleman.

Bucky even insisted on walking you to your door- well, Wanda’s door. “It’s no hassle.” He murmured, committing the sight of you in that outfit to memory- the sight of you to memory.

When you reached your door, you were beyond glad he did walk you since now you could give him the kiss he deserved. “Thank you for tonight.” You said sweetly as he grinned, his hand still resting on your hip. “It was incredible.”

“Thank you for agreeing to let me take you out.” He grinned, “Maybe, another time, we could… erm-” 

Bucky Barnes stuttering should’ve been a sight to behold to anybody in this city, but to you, it seemed like the cutest little thing, your stomach churning as he stumbled over his words, trying to find a way to ask you out.

You managed to stop his word vomit by pressing your lips to his, your hand on his shoulder as you leaned in to kiss him. The feeling of fireworks in your stomach was something you thought people made up when they talked about relationships and kisses, gentle touches and such, but in that moment, you knew the truth. 

“You know where to find me.” You pulled back, breath ghosting over him as he stood frozen, lips parted as he already missed your lips on his. You turned around, opening the door, pausing before you slipped inside. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

tags: @that1geek06 @shortarsenerd @helen-2003

[hauntedbysmut]

random zayne headcannons I've been entertaining myself with today because work sucks. these are my own takes. bit of fluff, bit of nsfw.

zayne is a big ol' softie. he's analytical and straight-forward, but his emotions are like an iceberg. there is a wealth of depth below the surface that others don't get to see, just you. he comes off unfeeling and taciturn, but his actions speak a different language altogether. it is only with you he is able to open up and talk about what is really going on in his heart and his head.

he is also an absolute child at heart. from the sweet, wholesome roleplays to the games like Kitty Cards he plays with you, he is able to let down his guard and heal his inner child when you are together. he loves spending evenings watching movies, eating snacks, and cuddling up on the couch together as well as helping (or attempting to help) you capture new plushies at the arcade.

I've got it in my head that he is also fairly touch-starved. while his job gives him a large amount of clinical touch, being touched and touching others in a less professional setting is uncomfortable to him. it could stem from his fear of his evol as well as just not receiving a lot of touch throughout his life. he's not big on pda, though he will hold your hand or offer you his arm while you walk together, but wants to be as close as physically possible when you two are alone together. this may stem from the fact that he practically raised himself as a child and took on the mantle of doctor at a young age.

he's a bit of a neat freak. he likes a clean space both work-wise and at home, and will maintain a clean space almost compulsively. the only time he doesn't mind mess is when he's making you into one. he loves seeing you disheveled and sweaty and messy because of him and thrives on you making a mess out of him in those moments, too.

he's a switch. I will die on this hill. his job can be chaotic and unpredictable, and he loves to have control in the bedroom on difficult days, but is absolutely pussy drunk for you at other times. in my hc, he's a virgin when he and you start dating, because he's focused on work his entire life and has never taken his own needs into account. you help him get in touch with the sexual side of himself that he has been repressing and it is an unleashing. he's methodical in how he learns to pleasure you and thrives on praise that he's doing well and making you feel good. this doesn't make him clinical in bed, just very focused on you and how you feel, determined to have you cum a minimum of twice before he lets himself push inside of you. the more he learns, the more eager he is, making him rather insatiable in the bedroom (or on the couch or in the kitchen because our sweet man is ready to GO).

in addition to his switchy nature, he likes to try new things with you sexually. cockwarming, temperature play, sensory deprivation with blindfolds... anything that increases your awareness of his every touch (or vice versa) and gets him close to you is fair game.

the longer you date, the less overtime he takes on at work. he learns to better delegate and trust the other doctors in favor of coming home at a decent hour to make you dinner or stop by a bakery for a surprise dessert on his way home. weeks when you're out on assignment out of town, he overworks himself because he hates going home to an empty apartment.

if these seem ooc, my apologies. I hit 30 days of playing lads today, so I'm still getting to know these characters better.

[sanctus-ingenium]

we need to talk about Inprnt.com

Following a really good post with more screenshots and evidence by @dynasoar5 i'm going to talk about my own experiences with @inprnt and why I am about to put my shop on indefinite hiatus from Monday the 14th of August.

First of all I'll say that since starting my print shop last year it has been a significant help to me financially - I was able to not worry about affording car insurance or motor tax (together commonly over a thousand euro) when I bought my first car, for example. I am immeasurably grateful to anyone who chose to buy one and I treasure all the pictures I've been sent of my prints hanging up on people's walls. Right now they are displayed in a real (if small) art exhibition in my home town.

(top right print is not from inprnt though)

They're great prints. Never had any complaints about them. But here's what's going on behind the scenes.

Earlier this year, around March or April, Inprnt sales started increasing in regularity. I'd made as much as $600 a week during previous sales when I made proper promo posts here, but with this increase in regularity, I felt that I couldn't make promo posts every single week. And then one day, I'm not sure when tbh, the sale just never ended. It just didn't stop having that "Ending soon! 15% off your order" banner at the top of the site. Right now it says "Final Hours: $5 Worldwide shipping and save up to 35% off your order!" and not even for a second do I believe in this final hours bullshit. It's been 'final hours' for weeks now. Months, even.

Why is this a problem? Well, how tf am I meant to make a promo post for a sale that is always "ending soon!!" and then never ends. One week it'll say "this weekend only!!" and then when the weekend is over, the sale banner just changes its wording and the sale doesn't end. I can't promo this, it makes me look like a liar and a skeevy salesman by association! It makes the site look like it's 1 week from crashing and burning, and the site owners are just scrabbling to suck as much money from artists as possible before they drown.

And they are sucking money from us. To peel back the curtain, Inprnt money can only be transferred to my paypal account 30 days after the sale is made, just in case the order is cancelled and refunded. This means I used to make one withdrawal every couple of months, when there was enough build-up of money to make it worthwhile. It also forbids withdrawing any sum under $50 btw. I would make a withdrawal request and then, after a 10 business day wait, it would reach my Paypal account.

Not anymore! The past few withdrawals have taken over a month to complete. They are straight up keeping my earnings from me for longer the agreed period. This was my last fulfilled withdrawal:

Note the date.

Almost two months.

And here is the latest withdrawal request that still has not been fulfilled.

It's coming up on 1 month and if the pattern continues, it could literally be November or December by the time I fully clear all sales.

So what's going to happen to my print shop? Because my art is currently being exhibited with a QR code linking to the shop, I can't close the shop this week. Instead I will close it on Monday the 14th of August, next week. That means that on the 14th of September, I can withdraw all of the remaining money without having any left over. My account balance will go to 0 and stay there. Although I'll de-list my prints I will leave my account there, because at the end of the day I don't want to leave Inprnt. It still offers the best artist margins and as I'm now unemployed after graduating, the additional support is such a load off my mind. So this is a chance to wait and see - if they improve their services, I'll happily re-open.

It's a big deal to me because selling prints is sort of my ideal life as an artist. I never had the attention span or self-discipline for commission work and I found that it left me creatively stagnant. I always want to try new things, new concepts and ideas, and being able to think "yeah, people will like this as a print" while I experiment is honestly very reassuring. And I know that in going on hiatus, it'll break a lot of "buy a print" links in my circulating posts. Oh well lmao. If you want to buy a print right now - go ahead, it might be your last opportunity. Another way to support me would be to check out my ko-fi for once-off donations or some nice sketchbooks/comics/book samples you can buy, or subscribing to my Patreon.

As of right now, Inprnt owes me $381 (the unfulfilled request submitted above for $186.60 and my current standing balance of $194.80 which takes 30 days from each transaction to clear).

[most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer]

Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*

*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.

Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:

as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)

while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates

Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)

That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:

***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.

I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***

Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.

But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?

Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:

C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?

Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*

Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:

A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice

A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…

Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:

C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?

He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.

Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.

A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:

SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed

(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)

I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?

"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.

In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.

And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.

So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.

If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.

"Then nothing has to change, does it?"

[lost-inthedream]

Monsta X reaction to you asking to touch their D...

during a make-out session when you haven't had sex yet.

+ Wonho

genre: smut

warning: bad language.

Pairing: MX and female reader

Shownu:

Those make out sessions have been turning into devil's behavior lately, Shownu could anticipate you feeling his member sooner or later. Your lips felt so right and there were those tiny moans you let out from time to time. Screw it, he couldn't care less about his cock being so obvious to you. The thing was you couldn't ignore it so, in the middle of the kiss, you asked to hold it. He pulled back, a string of saliva stretched between you. "Sorry, what did you sa-?"

"I wanna- I would like to grab it"

He eyed himself down, stuttered an "okay, fine" then waited until you could actully move your hand towards his clothed sex.

Minhyuk:

Unlikely Shownu, Minhyuk was fully aware that you could feel his dick hardening against your front. In the back of his head, he was almost sure that you liked it, he pressed it more because he needed a clear reaction from you. But also because that felt good as hell. Yet you surprised him with your request.

"Oh, I thought you wouldn't like to touch it" he replied.

"Minhyuk I've been feeling it for the last 30 minutes"

He jerked your hand right on top of his bulge and contemplated your fist slowly mold around his thickness.

Kihyun:

He often believes he does a good work controlling his dick. He's not the type of guy who gets hard easily but you've been making it more difficult with each passing date. You sat on him and he loose it, his hard on pocked you from under and he forgot to breath while kissing. You asked if he was feeling well and he stuttered to say he was so damn fine because you're sitting on his lap like a princess.

"I know you like it..." you admit "your body is telling me something and I'm curious to feel more of you"

You look down, your eyes stop on the side of your thigh, where his dick is prodding you, pushing against his pants.

"Baby, you can do whatever you want with my body"

Hyungwon:

You were not supposed to be making out at that time because your friends were waiting for you in the bar. You were so late, but you were having a bad hair day right in front of your boyfriend. He hugged you from behind, trying to convince you were gorgeous. He leisurely sucked on your neck then whispered in your ear that he was so attracted to you and that was what mattered.

You was ready to disagree but you felt his dick hardening on your butt. He was so into you, even when you just existed.

"I can feel your dick"

"That was not my intention, beautiful"

"Let me hold it, since I caused it"

He just nodded and smiled.

Jooheon:

Some days ago, he admited he had a hard time making out with you because of his hard on. He looked so embarassed and adorable somehow. He was concerned that would make you uneasy or something. You noticed him trying not to grind on you so you couldn't feel his stiff member. His action made you more curious about it. You pulled him closer, making him adhere to your front.

"Jooheon, let me feel you more" your voice sounded whiny in a way he had never heard before. It was clear that you wanted his cock.

So he let it press against you. His chin dropped when you slid your hand between you all to palm it through his pants. "Oh my God, y/n, you're gonna drive me crazy"

Changkyun:

This guy is very touchy, Changkyun goes a bit wilder every time you meet. Tonight he lifted your leg and held your butt as if it was his propriety. The way he grabbed you got your bodies impossibly closed. The kiss was perfection but you suddenly feels a different element poking you. You got the reminder that he had a dick after all and apparentely, it got excited about what you were doing.

"Fuck, babe. Let me touch you too" you gasped.

I.M tilted his head to the side, your hands still grabbed him by the butt and back. What could you be talking about? Then he realized it.

"No need to ask, baby doll"

Wonho:

Going to the gym was part of his routine but you asked to meet him before his exercises. That would be quick, you only needed to see his beautiful face. Though you end up devouring each other's lips while he wore the smallest shorts ever. He couldn't show up dressing like that and expect you to stay normal. Training wasn't important anymore, since he's got his sweet babe moaning in his arms.

He stopped for a while just to see you, because you smiled so good between kisses. Your gaze dropped directly to his bottom and his bulge faced you back.

"Love, is that your...?" You couldn't even say it " can I hold it?"

His eyes blinked smootly and he immediatly guided your hands there, motioning you to close your fist around it.

[thatdisasterauthor]

I am so fucking exhausted right now. I really felt like I was starting to get my feet under me over the summer, and now I'm back to barely keeping my head above water, and I'm just so done with this bullshit.

I start my full time dispatcher job in maybe Marchish, but the permanent pay fix didn't go through so we've got another year or two of regular pay plus a retention bonus, then my pay might get slashed by 30-50% because I highly doubt the incoming administration is going to be any more favorable to wildland firefighting than the current one.

And I don't even know how the hell I'm going to make it to Marchish without dipping into my top surgery fund because $164/week in unemployment is a fucking joke. I would've been better off if they'd just never taken the damn unemployment taxes out of my paycheck in the first fucking place.

And top surgery! My original date for it passed the other day and it hit me like a fucking truck. I've been so damn uncomfortable ever since and I just want to rip the damn things off. But I have no fucking clue how I'm going to afford it now.

And then there's my books. If the tariffs get passed my main method of publishing, the one that brings me the most income, is down the drain because there's no way I can afford to work with my printer in China if there's a fucking 100% tariff, and there literally aren't ANY printers in the US that offer all the features I need. (And if they claim they do, they're usually just a middle man for working with a Chinese company anyway.) I can still publish in other ways, but it won't get me as much money.

And having a literary agent has honestly been a bit of a clusterfuck for various reasons I'm not going to get into, so any sort of traditional deal is seemingly more and more off the table.

And I gave my dad an ultimatum after the election that I was deeply dissapointed in the fact that he voted for Trump AGAIN, and that if he wasn't willing to work on his racism and other issues I needed to take a step back from having a relationship with him. He never replied and hasn't talked to me since. Haven't spoken to my mother in years. Which just leaves me and my little sister, so I've really got no support network to speak of.

And then there's applying to a PhD, which I want to do so, so badly, but I just can't fathom how I could do that and afford it. The program I'm aiming for is paid, but not even close to enough to support the cost of living where it is, let alone the cost of moving over there.

And I think I need to finally pursue a formal ADHD diagnosis so I can get meds, but I can't do that until I start my new job and get health insurance. And, honestly, I'm really wary of getting a formal diagnosis anyway with the incoming administration. It just feels like something I don't know if I want on paper with all the crap they're trying to pull. But I cannot keep rawdogging this shit without meds.

And you know what? I'm fucking tired of being single. I'm tired of fighting this shit alone. But as an ace, autistic, queer person in a very conservative area (and the fact I can't afford to go out and DO anything) meeting someone is pretty out of the cards, given I have no interest in long distance relationships.

Just.

Ugh. So fucking tired.

I'll make it through, I always do, but man, I am tired of it constantly being a battle.

[mulletmitsuya]

Tokyo revengers groupchat

Warnings: suggestive, swearing, 5th grade humour, an unknown femboy is mentioned, Takeomi is homophobic but no one cares, also this has the Sano's and everyone involved or close to them

Desc: Shin gets his first date in like 10 years. Also this is the final timeline but events don't exactly match up to canon so👍

Shinichiro: GUYS

Shinichiro: I'M GOING ON A DATE😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Benkei: i don't care

Takeomi: congratulations. it's only been like 30 years

Wakasa: how many times have you started a conversation exactly like this? give up for all of our sakes. we're tired🙏

Takeomi: Shin there's nothing wrong with being single at your big age. it's not humiliating at all

Wakasa: aren't you single?😐

Shinichiro: screw you guys, actually ☹️

Benkei: emoji's are for children. stop using them. you're gonna frown? as a grown man? what's wrong with you

Shinichiro: what's wrong with frowning??

Shinichiro: YOU KNOW WHAT I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY A PRETTY GIRL ASKED ME ON A DATE

Shinichiro: we're meeting at a karaoke bar

Takeomi: if this happens to be real, do not drink

Takeomi: you get touchy when you're drunk and it's fucking weird😐

Wakasa: girls might think that's weird and creepy

Shinichiro: that was one time and i apologized

Takeomi: i don't give a fuck if you apologized you kissed me you fucking cunt

Takeomi: i don't even wanna talk about it i'm gonna vomit

Shinichiro: it was just a goodnight kiss. for the homies 😕

Wakasa: you stuck your tongue down his throat dude

Shinichiro: we were wearing socks so it was fine

Benkei: you just say shit

Shinchiro: you guys are ruining my vibe rn so i'm just gonna get ready for my date and the future love of my life

Shinchiro: she's so pretty i'm in love with her

Shinichiro: oh man i'm getting butterflies

Takeomi: send a pic

Shinchiro: you'll see her soon enough if things go well

Takeomi: guess i'm never seeing her

Sano affiliated groupchat

Inupi: idk a lot of us in here aren't Sano's and it kind of annoys me that this is what the groupchat's called

Mikey: get that stick out of your ass or leave like it's not that deep

Inupi: shut the fuck up you dwarf

Mikey: i'm the average height for a japanese male

Inupi: "i'm the average height for a japanese male🤓☝️"

Inupi: and no you're not. you're 5'3 and the average height is 5'7

Mikey: at least i have more than 3/4 of my face

Inupi: should you be saying that when you have a history of mutilating people's faces

Inupi: isn't that right Haruchiyo

Haruchiyo: kill yourself

Senju: girls, stop fighting

Emma: guys please not again

Draken: Inupi don't leave, Shinichiro wanted us here for something important so can we be civil for a few minutes

Inupi: whatever

Inupi: where is he anyway he said we should all be online cause of an emergency and he's not even here

Izana: are the old people here?

Takeomi: we're not old

Izana: ok grandpa

Kakucho: what's the emergency?

Benkei: fuck if we know

Wakasa: if i've come here to waste my time i'm gonna twist his dick off

Mikey: why do you want his dick in your hand🤨?

Wakasa: stop playing games Manjiro...

Benkei: is corporal punishment still legal

Mikey: i was kidding 😭

Mikey: also i'm a full grown adult so that would just be assault

Benkei: is assault still illegal

Emma: uh yes?

Benkei: i don't know why i asked because i'm going to do it anyway

Mikey: are your anger management classes even working💀?

Mikey: and lucky for me i'll be in Paris tmr for a fan meetup so😋

Shinchiro: hi guys

Wakasa: what do you want

Takeomi: i bet he fumbled

Mikey: fumbled what?

Takeomi: he had a date

Inupi: what's the emergency Shinichiro?

Shinchiro: i need you guys to answer these questions as quickly as possible

Shinichiro: what's a femboy??

Emma: now what does that have to do with the urgent emergency you told us you had?? i missed my pregnancy yoga classes for this? SHIN?

Senju: why is everything you do so unserious

Baji: Haruchiyo's a femboy

Haruchiyo: no the fuck i'm not you piece of shit

Mikey: you're not?

Haruchiyo: no??

Mikey: but you're pretty, and you look like a girl so?

Haruchiyo: no... but uh, thanks ig

Senju: girl stand up. this is embarrassing😕

Shinichiro: guys please this is serious i can't hide in the bathroom forever

Emma: what are you doing in the bathroom??

Shinichiro: i'm on my date right? so we're having a great time and we're singing and drinking and i tell her what a pretty girl she is and she says "girl?" and i'm like "yeah you're a pretty girl" and she says she's a femboy and i don't know what that means like what does "boy" have to do with anything so i went to the bathroom to ask you guys this question real quick because she said we're going to her apartment after this (!!!i think for sex!!!) but i'm just trying to clear up what she meant by the boy part

Baji: LMAOOOOOOO

Izana: it means "she" is a he

Izana: that's not a girl, it's a feminine presenting man. hence the description femboy

Mikey: I'M FUCKING CRYING 😭😭😭😭

Baji: can you even call yourself femboy when you're like in your 30's? that's a grown ass man

Takeomi: what's up with you and all these suspiciously gay situations

Wakasa: i think the universe is trying to tell you something

Benkei: how did you not know he was a guy

Shinichiro: because she's pretty! like a girl

Haruchiyo: *he's a guy

Shinichiro:

Baji: why's the cat sad. that's fucked up

Kakucho: it's basically how Senju looks like a boy most of the time and Haruchiyo looks like a girl

Takeomi: how did you not see a bulge or something

Shinchiro: she's wearing a skirt

Mikey: *he

Wakasa: and nothing was swinging out?

Izana: what kind of question is this

Emma: stop being vulgar Waka-nii😐. this is such a stupid conversation

Wakasa: aren't you a grown woman tho i feel like you can handle me talking about dicks

Shinchiro: holy shit she's a he

Inupi: can we go now

Baji: a hole is a hole

Emma: Baji ew😕

Takeomi: the difference between them is that one makes you gay because you're fucking a guy in the ass and the other one is normal

Baji: same difference

Takeomi: did you read what i just said

Mikey: he's illiterate

Baji: you can't insult me with a word i don't know the meaning of

Inupi: Shin what's the verdict?

Shinichiro: well...this is still a very pretty person so...

Takeomi: bro??

Shinichiro: is it that big of a deal tho?? i don't think it is

Shinichiro: yeah, this is fine

Shinichiro: is it all that gay if you're attracted to someone who looks like a woman?

Takeomi: if you're gonna fuck them, YES???

Benkei: he's lost it

Wakasa: i'm gonna need you to be sure about this because do you even know what to do? you're gonna embarrass yourself. you're not educated on gay sex at all

Baji: i can help with that

Draken: if i'm being honest i don't think you should take advice from anyone here at all

Baji: but i'm an expert

Mikey: we don't wanna know anything about what you and Chifuyu do 😐

Baji: yes you do

Inupi: google exists. just buy lube and condoms holy shit you guys are overcomplicating this so much

Mikey: of course you would know😒

Inupi: yeah i would know because i'm gay?? fucking idiot

Senju: are buttholes self lubricating? i can't be sure since i have constipation and my buttholes as dry as some tree bark

Haruchiyo: why would you tell us that

Takeomi: Senju watch how you talk. girls aren't suppose to say stuff like that

Senju: fine, next time i'll say anus to be more ladylike

Takeomi: and to answer your question, yes. because when you poop there's residue

Takeomi: you hear that Shin

Takeomi: shit in the ass

Takeomi: don't do this

Haruchiyo: you just told us you don't wipe your ass properly

Emma: i hate everyone here so bad omg

Draken: i think it's our cue to leave

Shinichiro: fuck it. i'm gonna do it

Shinichiro: thanks for the help guys! it is what it is at this point 😁

Shinichiro: bye!!

Mikey: i knew he'd eventually succumb to homosexuality

Takeomi: well since i'm homophobic i can't be his friend anymore

Benkei: no one cares

Benkei: Shinichiro successfully wasted our time once again

Benkei: i hope he gets an STD

Mikey: woah 😭

Emma: you're so fuckung dramatic😐

[trappezoider]

I've been your follower for months now but I'm still in awe with all of your beautiful and jaw dropping artwork!

Little question: how can someone as handsome as Avaric Gaunt sire a man like Marvolo? Like, I get Marvolo still being "handsome" during his youth but he aged like a block of room temperature butter that's so close to its expiration date. In your last art of baby Ominis and Avaric, I'm sure he was around... in his thirties in that picture, correct me if I'm wrong.

So, what went wrong with Marvolo? 😭 And did Ominis inherit Avaric's "youthful" genes, at least?

Good friggin' question because honestly, no idea xD Thankfully we never got to see Marvolo or their father in canon - heck, we don't even know if Marvolo is Ominis' brother - so anyone can headcanon whatever they like, really, which is super neat! When it comes to Marvolo, I do like to think he probably aged like milk, perhaps because of dark magic, or drinking, or the pipe, or drugs, or genetics... Who knows really! He could've been equally handsome as Ominis when young, or maybe not. Genetics are kinda fun like that hahaha. And perhaps Ominis aged better than him (or died young so we never got to find out mwahahahha). It's really fun to speculate all these things. Love brainrotting this stuff! Now, the reason why we hc Avaric as this pretty boy is because we wanted to combine the aspect of someone being beautiful but also acting like the worst possible human being. It's a common trope for sure but we wanted to explore it from a standpoint of shipping him with Phineas, who we know to canonically be quite hung on appearance and "style" :D We wanted Avaric's looks to be sort of a lure when in actuality he's completely rotten inside. It's quite interesting to explore these characteristics, especially since most of us who were brainstorming this know approximately what abusers are like and how they operate, and some of us have been in pretty horrible relationships. It appears that sometimes, being charming and good looking is something that keeps the victim coming back for more. I suppose that was the reasoning for me at least behind his looks when I first drew him. Plus men with long hair, oh lord jesus save me, it is the best thing to draw. But yeah, his appearance is mostly for story reasons and poetics. No clue what he actually looks like or whether we will ever find out :D And hmm, I suppose Avaric in that art is about 30, more or less? Ominis would be maybe around 4-5. I'd say Marvolo is in his first year of Hogwarts at this point. Math is not my strongest suit so somebody who I brainrotted the ages with has got to check that for me xD I love to hc that Avaric started having kids when he was still young and married at 19 probably, out of pettiness that Phineas actually went through his engagement with Ursula. Maybe the secret to his youth was that he never took care of his children or went near them much :'DDD

[lesbianneopolitan]

Every time I remember that before dating my current gf I went through the relationship hell of:

Dating a dude for 3 years thanks to comphet or the fact I was bullied for being a lesbian WITHOUT even being out of the closet yet. Got extra sexual trauma from that because he didn't accept 'no' as the answer for some things.

I'm lame and I don't go out- everything from there have been LDRs but they included:

A girl that was older but that gave me Hell in a few months by cheating on me (and used polyamory as an excuse, when it ain't like that), giving me the cold shoulder without explanation, and manipulating and guilt-tripping me before saying she was bored of me BUT she didn't break up (I had to do it, and I was also guilt-tripped for it, 'you're the one doing it, not me!'). It was one of those toxic relationships in which she gave me 'good attention' from time to time to keep me close, because at the time it was better than being alone.

I fell in love with another girl not all that long after breaking up with the first gf, but I was still too mentally fucked up from the previous one, so many things ended up pushing me away and I left her before she could leave me instead because I was too scared of being abandoned.

With the third one I was still recovering but I've been tainted forever, so I was stupid af and let that current gf to let her ex gf to come back and date her at the same time. It was a fucking mess because we were all mentally ill, my gf's gf wanted me dead and because she wanted her for herself (despite abandoning her previously), and I was very angry because I am NOT made for sharing. Eventually my gf's gf stepped back, but my gf also broke up with me after some time for clashing and simply because she stopped feeling the same. This one went for 3 years.

The last one just, ghosted me and disappeared from everywhere without explanation so you can imagine how shit that felt. Specially because we weren't having any problems (that I knew of at least??).

Never stop BELIEVING OR SMTH ✨

(been in a relationship rollercoaster since I was 17, I'm in my early 30s now so as you can se...)

[mcu-pokedex]

First Date with Peter Parker

Overview: y/n and Peter are nervous about telling each other that they have feelings, yet somehow they end up on a movie date.

Warnings: Some kissing, all fluff

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Y/N POV:

I can't believe it! Oh. My. God. Walking out of computer science Peter asked me what I was doing tonight. Even though it was a Friday the only thing on my to-do list was putting on a face mask and watching Netflix. Stumbling over my words I had agreed to go to the movies with him. Again, oh my god! I was so anxious. Questions racking in my brain. All I can think about is what on earth do I wear? I had to get home immediately.

Well walking back home Peter texted me saying that he would get me at 7:30. The image of Peter at my front door gave me tingles. An unstoppable smile spread on my face. Opening my bedroom door and throwing my backpack onto the floor I rush to my closet. Throwing clothes into my bed and googling cute movie theater outfits. I knew this should be easy, but lord knows how much I will overthink this.

Peter's POV:

No way I just did that. After having a crush on y/n since the moment we met. Today I finally had the balls to ask her out. Well, kind of. I mean we are going to the movies together but I don't know if they see it as a date. Either way, my heart is beating out of my chest. I have been sitting in my living room waiting to go to y/n's place. I've been ready since 4:30 and it's only 6. Ughh. I don't even know what we are gonna see. I wanna leave it totally up to them. I do not want to mess up this kind of date at all.

Y/N POV:

Peter is gonna be here 10 minutes and I can't sit still. I am wearing blue jeans and a maroon shirt. It's simple and allows for my body to not overheat. I'm so flushed I don't even need to put on blush. After realizing this I blush even more. I did put on a little mascara and concealer to give me more confidence. Slipping on my white Converse it hit me what was happening. My stomach was doing flips at the idea of Peter about to knock on my front door. I made sure to spray myself with perfume so there was no chance I smelled bad. I am so nervous my throat is dry and my hands are fidgeting. After years of knowing Peter and having a crush on him for just as many, I can't believe we are going on a date. Unless of course, this is just a hangout. I want to spiral on that idea again but I can't as I hear a knock on my door. Sending electricity shooting through my body.

Peter POV:

Walking up to her front door was one of the most nerve-racking things ever. I raised my hand to knock on their front door, taking a deep breath before letting my knuckles touch the door. Only a beat later the door swung open. They looked gorgeous. I mean they always do. Even when they are tired late at night in our mini-study group. But right now my eyes had no choice but to soak them in, and I was loving it. Their mouth was agape making my heart flutter. Ned always told me that he thought y/n had a crush on me but I never believed it. I mean me? Peter Parker, pfff. But I do wonder what's going on in that pretty head of theirs.

Y/N POV:

He looked handsome. hair fluffy, in jeans, and a Midtown jacket. He was captivatingly comfy. His eyes are soft and giving you all there attention. His mouth was a little open which I couldn't help but giggle at.

"Hello Peter" I stated, looking him in the eyes, causing my breath to falter.

"Oh, uh- hello y/n" he cutely stuttered back. Making me laugh under my breath at how silly he can be.

"Should we get going? I saw that were was a preview of Titanic at 7:45 at the movie theater just down the road. "

"Yeah!" he nodded.

I closed the door behind me and stepped aside Peter. As we began our walk I noticed how the street lights made his face glow. Giving me a warm feeling inside. There had been a comfortable silence between the two of us till I asked.

"How have you been since school?"

"Good, I mean I barely touched my homework, but it's Friday and I got a whole weekend ahead of me" he lets out a little laugh and looks down at his hands.

"Same, that paper due for English also has me in a chokehold. I have no idea what to write it on." I said.

The rest of the walk was just casual conversation. I mean me and Peter are best friends no matter what this hangout date situation is.

Peter's POV:

As we walked I couldn't help but try to think of ways to make y/n laugh. I would do anything to hear that laugh they have. It brings me such joy to know they are happy. Without realizing it we had walked the few blocks in a matter of minutes. I walked up to the booth of the ticket holder.

"Two tickets for Titanic please?" I said handing them 25 dollars.

"Movie theater 2 on your left, have fun watching!" They said as they gave me my tickets and some coins back.

However, this outing ate away at my small personal savings. I could not imagine spending it in any other way. Whatever it took to hang out or see you I would spend. We walked through the entrance and y/n stopped.

"Peter do you want popcorn or anything?" y/n asked.

"Maybe, do you want any y/n?" I asked smirking knowing that asking was y/n's way of saying they wanted something.

"Peter you know me too well," They said hitting my shoulder playfully.

We both laughed as we got into line asking for a large popcorn with extra butter.

Y/N POV:

After finding movie theater 2. You both sat in the middle-top area. It's a good spot. I was surprised because of how full the room was. I noticed there were only two other empty seats throughout the entire thing. It was packed! I mean it is a Friday so it makes sense, even if this movie is old. I had been thinking about the chances of our seats before I even noticed Peter trying to ask me something.

"Have you ever seen Titanic before?" he looked curious, his cute little eyebrow raised.

"Uhh, I guess not" I shrugged not thinking much of it.

"Y/n I really need to do a better job at getting you well-versed in movies" he let out a little chuckle.

"I guess so! We can call it a date"

I was astonished at the words that just left my mouth. NO WAY did I just confirm that I wanted to go on a date with Peter. My face was red. I don't even need a mirror to know that. Thank god the lights were dim.

I stuttered out "I- I mean only if- you want it too, noooo pressure" giving a fake laugh to cover my anxiety.

" Y/n can I ask you something?" he says looking right into my eyes. Which felt like he was examining my soul.

I swallowed my spit " Uhh- yeah, ask away!" I said with way too much excitement in my voice.

"Is this a date?"

My heart was in my throat and my eyes opened wide. Did he really just ask that. There's no way. An eruption of butterflies took over my body. I was about to answer before we were cut off by the people behind us choosing us. I looked dead forward at the screen not wanting to see Peter's face. I ate some of the popcorn in my lap and handed Peter the rest. The nerve recked my appetite. And before dealing it the movie had begun.

Peter POV:

I was just about to get an answer out of y/n before the rude guy behind us interrupted. I was enamored with their face as the bright screen showed their wonderful details. They were stunned and in shock. I was beginning to believe that Ned had been right. I could not believe it. But it's the only excuse for y/n's reaction. Unless of course, they hate me. Which I highly doubt. I slowly looked at the screen as they handed me the popcorn.

---30 minutes later---

I noticed y/n shivering. I mean it was a little cold in here but not enough for me to be considered cold. I wonder if they want my jacket.

Y/N POV:

I had been so engrossed with the plotline before realizing Peter was handing me his jacket. It made me realize how I was sitting on my hands and folder over to keep me warm.

"Thank you, Peter"

"Of course y/n, anytime" he smirked.

I put the jacket on feeling the heat from his body still keeping it warm. It smelled like him, which was also a plus.

---Another 30 minutes later---

I was trying to watch the movie but all I could think about was the cute boy sitting next to me. Including all the cute things he does. Whether he is talking about space, the Avengers, or even his science homework. It always made me happy, to see how happy Peter was. I was so happy to be here with him. And he had bought the tickets and given me his hoodie without me even telling him I was cold. I slowly reached my hand from my lap and onto the armrest. Leaving my palm facing up. My heart was about to leap out at this act of confidence. But I just had to remind myself of all those times I dreamed of holding Peter Parker's hand. So I kept it there, hoping for the best.

Peter POV:

Their hand was on the armrest palm up. I had seen them move their shy hands up and onto the armrest. I was glad to know that all this worrying about my crush was actually real and that they liked me back. As smoothly as I could I picked my hand up and ran my fingers over their palm. Before I landed my plan in there's and squeezed my hand tight around there's. Our fingers are entwined with one another.

Their face held a small smirk which gave me just enough confidence to pull their hand into my lap. Pulling them over the arm rest. So that their head was leaning on my shoulder. It felt right, and I heard y/n's breath pick up and come to a steady resting place.

---Another 30 minutes---

I had seen Titanic many times before this. So I tuned it out. Only focusing on the feelings I was experiencing. To have y/n's hand in mine, them wearing my jacket, and them just being with me. I was on cloud nine. There was only another half hour before the movie was over and I could tell the end was gonna make y/n cry. It even made me cry the first time I saw it. They were holding my hand tight and were gasping to all the twists and turns.

As the movie wrapped up I was hesitant to move. I knew y/n had shed a few tears as my shoulder was lightly wet. Which did not bother me one bit. Also, I did not want this moment to end. I wanted them to make the choice to move away from me.

Y/N POV:

I had been lying on Peter's shoulder for half the movie. I knew I would have neck pain later but I did not care because I did not wish to move. I did cry a little but I hope Peter did not notice. I was sad to see the credits begin to roll and the lights un-dim in the theater. I waited till the last second to move away from Peter. Basically, until everyone was standing up. As soon as I pulled away I missed his touch. I looked down at us still holding hands and realized that he was looking also. When we looked back up at each other.

" Do you want to take a walk around Central Park?" he asked.

" I would love to Peter" I grinned as he stood up with our hands still locked together

We exited the theater in a blissful state. I was over the moon Petere actually liked me back. So much so that the ending of the Titanic did not take hold of my emotions.

"So I have to ask how did you like the movie?" Peter asked as you walked outside.

"Good. I was not ready for Jack though. Sorry if I got your shoulder wet. I was just surprised they did that to his character"

Peter chuckled, "It's okay y/n, all good"

Both of you had been walking in silence for a few minutes. Enjoying each other's company. A few seconds later Peter stopped when you reached the front gates of the park.

"What?"

"You never answered that question back there," he said raising an eyebrow.

" Pfff, whaaa, okay maybe" I deflected.

" Hey I mean I want this to be a date but only if you want it-"

I cut him off, "YES, please, Peter I have liked you for too long, please say this is a date!" I basically begged

" Well then y/f/n y/l/n you are in luck because I Peter Parker and taking you out on an official date. Would you like to walk around Central Park with me?"

'"Of course!" I said gidddy with a smile across my face.

It was late but neither of you cared. Walking around the paths, going under bridges, and still holding hands. The air was brisk yet it was all worth it to step on the crunchy leaves scattered across the ground. It had been a few minutes of silence and some light conversation explaining how long we both had liked each other. We were both walking when he stopped on top of a bridge above a little river. The lights illuminated above me.

Turning to me he said, "Y/n I have had a wonderful night"

"Me as well," I said smiling.

"Well," he said placing his arm around my back and taking a small step forward. " Now that I know how long we have liked each other . . "

"Yeah Peter," I said looking at him with curiosity.

Nervously he stuttered out "Y/n I like you a lot! And I just want you to know that and-"

He cut himself off by leaning into my face and gently placing his lips on mine. My breath hitched as I realized that Peter was kissing me. I quickly retracted. Soaking in how soft and tender he kissed me. it was so gentle it was almost like an angel. When he pulled away both let out a loud exhale. Then we looked at each other and laughed. It was silly how long it took us to get to this point. I leaned into Peter letting him pull me flush to his body. I grabbed his face with both of my hands and placed my lips onto his with a little more force this time.

Well kissing Peter all I could think about was how much I love this boy, causing me to smile into the kiss.

[think-ill-watch-it-burn]

I was listening to music again and another little story wrote itself. I may just start a whole series of these, a little simp jukebox if you will.

Anyway, here's a cute little Joker thing. Please forgive any errors, it's currently 4:30 in the morning and I've been up with a 6 month old since 7:30 yesterday morning. I hope it came out okay!

Under the cut because loong

Joker/52

There Goes My Baby

Here he goes, lurking in the shadows like a creep again. Typical.

A single sharp eye followed you, hopping rooftop to rooftop, skirting landings, sifting through crowds and propping himself anonymously just close enough. Something about it felt wrong. Everything about it felt compulsory.

It was his own stupid fault. You got too close to him, he told himself. You'd only get burned, figuratively if not literally. So the only thing to do about it was hurt you, push you away. Leave you. Which he had every intention of doing. Walk away and don't look back. He'd done it plenty of times before. It wasn't hard.

Except with you it was. Painfully so.

The first couple weeks he didn't see you out much, to his private dismay. And then he did - and somehow that was worse. This whole thing was unexpected and uncomfortable.

Every few paces you ran into someone - had a conversation, shared a hug, a smile and a quick hello. Some walked with you, some you seemed eager to part. You paid them an acceptable amount of attention. Not too much. Clearly casual. Nothing threatening.

Until there was.

A man you'd hugged enthusiastically the first time he saw you together. A man who walked with you often, frequently touched you, made you laugh and lingered long enough to make him grit his teeth. Walk away, he'd growled under his breath.

He had no right to these territorial feelings, he knew that. He didn't want them. He chose this.

Yet there he was. Watching you from afar, yet again, day after day.

Compulsory.

It became unbearable. Panic bubbled in his chest.

Was it a mistake?

It was late evening and you met this man on the sidewalk, walking… where? Was this...?

A date?

The feeling was unbearable. He had to plant his feet to stop himself from hopping down in front of you.

You walked with this man - too close, he thought - your giggles floating to him on the breeze, conversation too far to hear but the happiness in your voice clear even from afar.

Guilt gripped him. You were supposed to move on. That was the point.

Wasn't it?

With a flick of his lighter and a slow drag from his cigarette he disobeyed every instinct screaming at him and turned heel, hands in his pockets strolling away from you. This whole endeavor foolish. Why torment himself like this?

But it followed him, that sinking, anxious feeling. Around every corner, through every group of unfamiliar faces, down into the nether, up to the rooftops. He couldn't escape it.

So he found himself one night jimmying the lock on your window, expertly opening it from the fire escape. Ironic.

Still not home. The apartment was dark, empty, lonely. He fussed with knick-knacks, picked up photos you had sprinkled around and examined them, stole a couple snacks from your fridge and sat on your couch to enjoy them. Minutes turned into hours and he sat, waiting impatiently, cigarette after cigarette.

Midnight.

What was he doing? What would he even say? I don't want you, but I don't want anyone else to want you either? I'm not safe to care about, but don't care about anyone else? What if that guy came back with her?

His stomach turned.

Keys jingled outside the door, the scrape and click of the lock releasing. You were back.

He stood, brushing crumbs from his lap, and snuffed out his umpteenth cigarette. His heart was racing. His heart never raced, not for a very long time. What was wrong with him?

You swept into the apartment, dropped your keys into the bowl next to the door and flung your jacket onto the closest chair. You pulled the tie from your hair and shook it down, letting out a contented sigh. Home at last.

"Hot date tonight, huh?"

You jumped and flung the only thing in your hands at him: your hair tie. He chuckled, grin wide as you flipped the light switch and exposed him standing awkwardly in your living room.

"Are you fucking for real?"

You were mad. That was one of the many scenarios he's gone over in his head. It was also the one he was least sure how to handle.

"What the hell, Jo? What the actual hell is wrong with you? You tell me you don't want me, I was fun for a while but not what you want. Now you're, what, stalking me? What do you want from me?"

I don't know, he thought, I just can't stop.

"I don't know," he said quietly, grin falling, unsure what else to do but be honest. You stared at him for a minute, waiting for an elaboration that never came.

"Please figure it the fuck out. I can't keep doing this."

He sighed with you, exasperated with himself. What could he say? His heartbeat was roaring in his ears. He felt uncomfortably exposed. Vulnerability was not his thing.

"I don't want you to get hurt," he confessed. You stared at him again, incredulous.

"What do you think you're doing to me right now?"

He almost winced. "Yeah. Of course I am. That’s what I do."

You softened a little seeing him struggle. "You didn't until you pushed me away. In fact, you did the opposite."

"But I would have. One way or another you'd always get hurt."

You rolled your eyes. "So you claim. But in the months we were seeing each other it didn't happen until you made it happen. You manifested your own fear."

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, head hung low, looking every part the scolded child. "I'm a dangerous man. You shouldn't trust me."

"Then why get involved with me in the first place?"

"It was a good time."

"Oh, we're back to that again? Just in it for the fun?"

He groaned, head falling back in frustration. "At first, yeah. Then... I couldn't stop thinking about you. I wanted to see you as much as possible."

"... okay?"

"I'm not somebody who should be seen visiting you. It was too dangerous."

"And you think I could get hurt," you finished with a heavy sigh. "Why not tell me this instead of cutting me on the way out?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "I thought it would be a clean break. You'd hate me and I'd walk away free."

You pushed back the sting of the truth. "So what's changed?"

"Nothing. That's the problem. I still can't stop thinking about you. This is... new."

You swallowed against the flood in your chest. "I don't know what to tell you."

"I don't know what I want to hear."

"I don't either, Jo. This... I really cared about you. I was trying to move on. Why are you here? Now? What is it you want from me?"

He took a step toward you nervously, hands still in his pockets. "Honestly?"

"Yes! Of course!"

"Everything."

That one single word and the gravel and sincerity with which he said it caught you off guard. Your stomach flipped, butterflies erupting despite your efforts.

"What does that mean?" you almost whispered.

"I don't want you to get hurt. I also don't want to lose you. I don't know what to do."

"Protect me. Be honest with me."

"What if I cant?"

"Be honest with me?"

"Protect you. You don't understand what being close to me means."

"Okay, tell me then. Show me, teach me. I don't know, help me understand."

He took a few more steps until he was in front of you, looking down at you, a sad aura about him. "You don't know what you're asking."

"Then tell me. Do you not trust me?"

He stroked the back of his fingers across your cheekbone, brushed your hair behind your ears. You sighed softly, your heart thundering. "You’ve never given me a reason not to.”

"Then let me in," you pleaded. "The way I see it you have two options. Walk away from me right now and never come back, or tell me what I need to know and we can figure out a plan."

He smiled dolefully down at you, taking your chin in his fingers, not especially happy with either option. "I... can't walk away from you."

"Then you know what you have to do."

"It's late. You should rest."

"I don't have anywhere to be tomorrow."

"I can come back tomorrow..."

"How do I know you will? Tell me tonight. At least something?"

He hesitated but ultimately acquiesced, sitting with you on the couch for hours confessing his sins, laying all the ugly truth out for you to do with what you would. You listened quietly, trying not to show your shock and dismay at his story, until the two of you fell asleep tangled up together.

By the break of dawn his fate had changed. You were in it whether you understood what it was or not, and he struggled with a foreign, agonizing feeling of vulnerability and fear. But it was far less unbearable than watching you move on.

He didn't have to be alone anymore.

[penny-anna]

i bought a flat this week.

was off work sick last thursday/friday with what turned out to be the beginnings of a bad cold but at the time i was just like 'oh no why am i so tired is this the return of the Mystery Fatigue'

let's backtrack for a second!! back when i had the offer accepted on my flat my solicitor suggested october 6th as a move in date and i was like sure that works (this was around the beginning of september). then i didn't hear anything from them for many days and then i started getting major dry eye problems that became all consuming so i didn't get around to chasing them.

anyway!! tuesday last week i get an email from my solicitor like 'hi are you still able to complete friday' and i did not have the headspace to deal with it so i didn't reply

Wednesday my solicitor calls like 'hi. we need to know if you want to complete friday'. i'm like 'actually i'm really not feeling well this week, could we postpone'. she calls back a few minutes later like 'they cannot postone'. at this point i'm still thinking that if i get a decent night's sleep i'll feel better so i tell her i'll deal with it in the morning.

Thursday i feel spectacularly worse. have to get up to go to an appointment with my optometrist. almost start crying in their office bcos i'm just so exhausted. (he seemed weirdly unfazed by this?? looking back i wonder if he thought my eyes were hurting or something and didn't realise that i was holding back tears gfhglj) call out sick from work.

plan is to take a nap and then look at the documents my solicitor sent over but she calls me again like 'hi. sorry to bother you i know you're sick but can we complete today' so i'm like ah shit ig we're doing this now. please walk me through exactly what you need me to do here. 'we just need you to send us the money'. yeah i can do that. i've never made a payment this big before tho.

(i'm buying w money inherited from my mother so even for a flat purchase it's an unusually large amount of money)

'oh yeah you won't be able to that online. *pause* are you well enough to go to the bank?' i am tired enough that going to the bank will suck but not so sick i cannot go to the bank.

i had gone fully back to bed. spurred on by sudden wave of adrenaline, get out of bed and dressed and get the bus into town to the bank.

my bank closes at 3pm weekdays and by the time i get that it's about 1:45. explain the situation. turns out that to make a payment this big you need a sit-down meeting with a member of staff and they are booked solid till 3. 'can you come back tomorrow at 9:30 when we open' *dying inside* yes. i can come back tomorrow at 9:30.

go home. remember that i'd told my manager that i'd call her at 9 to let her know if i'm going to be working (i will defo not be working & she knows this) which will be tricky if i have to leave at 9 to go to the bank. have a pretty interminable IM conversation via microsoft teams about this wherein i suggest i message her first thing and call a bit later and she isn't going for it. eventually agree to call at 9 just so i can end the conversation and go to sleep.

Friday morning end up calling my manager from the bus. get to bank. whole thing takes a full 30 minutes so yeah i can see why they couldn't fit me in thursday afternoon ghfdljkfhdj. i'm so so tired. they have to go over a whole fraud prevention statement with you. 'you should be aware that scammers can pretend to be your solicitor'. me, exhausted: okay what if just this one time. a scammer is pretending to be my solicitor.

make the payment. go home to sleep finally.

later in the afternoon get another call from the solicitor. 'hi we have the keys you can come get them whenever'. oh yeah i'd been so caught up in trying to get them the money i'd kinda forgotten about. actually getting the flat.

(side note at no point was i planning to move in on 'moving day', an advantage of being a first time buyer is that i don't have to & i want to redecorate the place which is easier while it's empty)

initially say i'll come in next week but then realise that ideally next week i'll be back at work (i am not but anyway) so i might as well go now. it's pushing 4pm so will need to head out ASAP.

eyes are very dry and itchy from sleeping all day but fortunately i just (on a recommendation from my optometrist) bought a thing called a facial sauna which is a very weird contraption but does work extremely quickly.

pack my eye drops and also a peanut butter sandwich to eat in my new flat (why not) and go get the keys.

arrive at the flat. on inspection realise that the envelope i've been given seems to contain the most random assortment of loose keys. eventually identify an actual set of keys.

put my key in the lock of the flat door. abruptly hear a cat meowing, somewhere very close by.

previous owner had cats (plural) (i know this bcos i saw them when i was viewing the place). have a sudden moment of panic that i've somehow wildly misunderstood the whole situation and that she and her cats are still in residence.

look down. there is a very large, very fluffy white cat standing next to me, looking up at me as if expecting to be let in.

'you can't come in. this is my house.'

make my first mistake: think that if i open the door i will be able to prevent the cat from entering.

cat goes straight on into my flat.

i'm now pursuing the cat from room to room saying 'hey! hey you can't be in here! this is my house!'. the cat doesn't give a shit for obvious reasons (it is a cat)

i might have considered just shooing the cat outside and shutting the door but have arrived at an IMO not unreasonable concern. cat seemed very determined to enter this flat in particular and is now roaming around as if looking for something. previous owner had multiple cats and moved out AFAIK today. i have heard stories about people accidentally leaving cats behind when they move.

at this point it's 4:55 on a Friday. call my solicitor and explain the situation. ask if she could pass on a message to the seller's solicitor. unfortunately they have already closed for the week so it will have to wait till Monday but she will do her best.

decide the next course of action is to see if the cat has any ID. the cat is wearing a harness & collar so might have a tag with an address. make my second mistake: pick the cat up.

the cat does not have any ID on the harness. the cat does NOT like being picked up. cat gets very squirmy and then begins scratching me. cat manages to break my skin through a hoodie.

i put the cat down. the cat hisses at me. this is very rude considering that it is in my house.

head across the landing to see if the people opposite are missing a cat or, failing that, know their neighbours well enough to recognise the cat. there's no answer.

however!! i hear a voice down in the stairwell that sounds like it could be someone calling out a cat's name. 'hi!! is someone down there looking for a cat?' no answer.

look down the stairwell. on the ground floor there is a very large fluffy brown cat wearing a harness. !!!!! that is my cat's friend!

retrieve the cat from my flat (fortunately it just follows me out) and head downstairs. am met partway up by the cat's owner.

'oh thank god is this your cat'. it is her cat. apparently she had opened her front door to let them out into the garden and it had wandered off. 'i just moved in today it came into my flat'.

she is very apologetic. cat is unrepetent.

go back inside. call my solicitor's office. 'hi was it you i spoke to just now about the cat' (I told 2 people about the cat) 'no i just answered the phone because it was ringing. what cat.' 'can you tell *solicitor's name* that i have found the cat's owner. she will know what you mean'.

problem solved!! time to eat my peanut butter sandwich. :)