#EEEEEEEEEEE IT HIM THE BOY

[hkpika07]

thanks for drawing my boy approx. 8.2 billion years ago. please accept this boy.

HELLO!??? HEY HEY HEY HEY -falls down the stairs- THIS IS SO GOOD IM SCREAMING IM YELLING. IM SO HONORED!?!?? IM GOING TO EAT HOUSING INSULATION STIMMING STIMMING STIMMING STIMMING THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!

Wuagh!!!! It's him the old man gremlin!

[whumpypepsigal]

A Quiet Place: Day One (2024)

#just breathe

[sweetbunpura]

Idia taking like 10 minutes to process the kiss because he was distracted and then just panicked calling only to hang up after two rings and hide

Yuu, burst into the room: NICE TRY, IDY!

Idia: EEEEEEEEEEE!

Yuu, tackles him.

Yuu now has another socially awkward boy to date.

[kittiwittebane]

NERDS/NATURE

TIME FRAME: About a year after WAD.

Warnings: ???

Willow patted down the dirt in her garden. She wiped the sweat off her forehead, breathing out in exhaustion.

“Finally.” she sighed. She’d spent all morning planting orchids in her garden at home. She wasn’t so sure if they would survive in the boiling isles, due to the fact that they were from the human realm, but there was no harm in trying.

“Now I just have to plant the sunflowers!” she smiled to herself, looking over at the packets of seeds that rested beside her. She shook her head at herself and decided to have lunch first, getting up and brushing the dirt off her dress. Why did she decide to do it in a dress? Because it had more airflow than pants. She wouldn’t get as hot, in the middle of summer on the boiling isles, in the sun in her garden.

“How’s the planting going, flower?” Gilbert asked his daughter.

“It’s going good dad.” she replied.

“We made your favourite lunch!” Harvey appeared from the kitchen with a plate of spider dumplings.

“Awww! Thanks papa, dad!” she smiled, taking the plate. She sat down at the table and started eating her dumplings. Someone knocked on the door.

“I’ll get it.” Harvey waved at his daughter. “You stay and eat.”

The man walked over to the door and opened it, only to find a lanky, blonde, messy looking boy in a dirty apron at his door.

“Can we help you?” Harvey asked.

“I- I have something for Willow.” He squeaked. Harvey tipped his head to one side.

“Right… and what is that?” he asked. Hunter shyly rubbed his fingers together.

“Just some seeds.” he blushed.

“Seeds?” Harvey questioned.

“Y-yes.” Hunter nodded. “Seeds.”

“Did Willow ask you to-”

“Hunter!” Willow exclaimed, pushing past her papa. “Hi!”

Hunter’s face reddened. “H-Hi!” he smiled awkwardly. “Willow. I have these for you.” he handed her a bag of seeds that Willow immediately recognised.

“They’re-”

“Firesunflower seeds! The single rarest plant on the boiling isles, only ever been found once, not recorded where. The flower emits such a beautiful light that it captivates all that are goodhearted!” Willow exclaimed. Hunter looked at her, surprised.

“Hunter, where did you get these?!” she hissed. Hunter was still taken aback.

“I found them on a flower that I hadn’t seen-”

“YOU FOUND THESE ON THE FLOWER?!” Willow blurted out. “Where!?”

“Look, Will, I’ll tell you later, I-”

“We have to plant them! Come onnnn!” Willow grabbed his hand and led him through the house, all the way out to the garden.

Harvey stood at the door, stunned, while his husband stood inside the house, equally stunned, as they both just watched their daughter drag some random blonde guy through the house. Unsurprised by her surprising strength, Hunter grunted as he hit the ground, hauled into a pile of dirt where he guessed Willow had recently dug up.

“No one knows how to grow one, so we have to try every single different way!” Willow squealed. “Lots of water, not lots of water, shade, no shade, partial shade! And everything in between!” she declared. Hunter admired her determination. She then looked at him, caught him smiling at her. He blushed.

“Uh- I can show you where I found it.” he spluttered. “Maybe tomorrow, because tomorrow is-”

“THE FLAMING SUNSET! The only time of the year when the Firesun Flower has more power due to the alignment of the galaxies just before the sunset which enhances the flower’s fire power!” she didn’t even try to contain her excitement, cutting Hunter off with a logical response. “EEEEEEeeeee!” she squealed. “This is so exciting!” she grabbed Hunter’s shoulders and shook him.

Hunter smiled and blushed a little, seeing her so excited. He liked it when she was happy. She turned back to the flowers.

“Help me plant these sunflowers so that I can figure out where to plant the Firesuns!” she grabbed his arm again, putting him down where the Sunflower seeds were, pushing a packet over to him. He nodded, quickly grabbing the Sunflower seeds and watching how she did it closely, and not only because the way she scrunched her nose when she was focused was cute, but because he needed to know how to do it. He quickly replicated her, and soon, the flowers were planted.

“Thank sooo much Hunter! You’re the best!” She hugged him tightly. He looked downwards, once again, blushing, and nodded. They walked to the door.

“So, I’ll pick you up tomorrow at four?” he asked. Willow nodded.

“Bye!” she waved and shut the door behind him.

BONUS SMALL DETAIL:

“DARIUS!” Hunter crashed through the door. “I accidentally asked Willow to watch the flaming sunset with me because I gave her some Firesun seeds which the power of enhances when the sunset starts and I don’t know what to doooooo!” he wailed. Darius shook his head.

Of course this was his kid.

_

I know I’ve made a small story about this sunset before, but if you guys would like, I’d also like to remake it. Make it better. :3

[shadale-s-safe-space]

I’ve had a blind drone oc for a while now, his name is Galen. Ignore that he’s just a characterization of the default worker, i originally made him as a joke but he eventually evolved into his own character. Anyway have blind drone buddies, love your art

Tbh AleX and Z were jokes too at first, I drew them back in December and I was like" hehe look at us we could literally fit in in this universe easily" and then i got mad and sad and killed everyone and somehow now I ended up with two kids and post birth depression, and gave Z war and cult traumas or whatever 🤨.

BUT I LOVE HOW YOU DREW THEM ADORBZ BROO AAAAAAAAA 💞💓💞💓💞💓💓💞💓💞💓💞💓💕💓💕💗💕💞💗💞💖💞💖💞💞💗💞💖💞💝💞💖💞💗💞💗💞💖💞💖💕💞💝💕💕💖💕💖💞💖💕💖💕💗💕💗💕💗💕💗💞💗💞💗💕💕💖💕💝💕💝💕💝💕💖💕💖💖 [thank you for staying true to my character I'm always annoyed and grumpy lol ] AAAA THANK YOU FOR THIS I actually love ur oc I though he was cute since the day you drew him back in the collab thing we did. ADORABLE BOI FR!!! EEEEEEEEEEE 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 HERE'S YOUR CUTIE FOR U 💞

[miupow]

Liaaa this is my first time getting in your inbox so I hope nothing goes against your rules, so yeah, (If I'm being honest... 50% is an excuse to interact more with you and 50% because I'm curious and want your opinion) which TxT member is more likely into car sex in your opinion :0?

EEEEEEEEEEE hiiii skyyyy!!! hehe im so excited to see you in my inbox!!! i'd love to interact w u more as well ^^

when it comes to car sex i immediately think of @dearlyjun... pavloved into thinking of jdm car guy beomgyu illegal street racer txt f1 txt what has she done to me

but in my own personal opinion... car sex is SOOO yeonjun!! hehe i had a drabble plotted out like forever ago about stoner frat boy!yeonjun x good girl!reader and hotboxing/car sex... but then i scrapped it for another project T^T need to bring it back fr... idk something about yeonjun and car sex makes sense to me... nasty and messy in the backseat or god in the front seat... sucking him off while he drives.. it's not safe at ALL but omg

[jarondont]

Live (sorta) reaction to episode 1 and 2 of PJO

SPOILER ALERT

Episode 1

HE SAID THE LINEEEEEEEE

MYTHOMAGIC CARDS?!?!

Lol "shoving her into the nearest dumpster" and the grin afterwards

Yaaaaaaaa buddy it's Riptide

DANG Ms. Dodds's transformation was smooth

UNCLE RICK IS THAT YOU

Grover you did not just do that to him 😭 please you're his only friend

um what happened to the fates

THE BLUE FOOD

DI ANGELO'S SANDWICH?!?!

Omg the fact that Sally was crying before Percy woke up. Someone give them both a big hug

"You fell in love with God? Like- like- like, Jesus?" he's so Percy I can't

"Maybe something is seriously broken" PERCY PLEASE WE LOVE YOU

"Grover, why is there half a goat in your pants?" lol

Sally telling Grover to protect Percy I'm going to cry

I AM SOBBING. Sally's little speech omg "you are not broken"

NO SALLYYYYY I knew this was coming and still was NOT prepared

Brooooooooo the Minotaur fight scene was epic

ANNABETH MY GIRL

Episode 2

SHE SAID THE LINEEEEEEEEEEE

Percy looks so sad :(((

"PeTEr JOhnSoN IS HeRe" I'm dyingggg

"Your Highness" lol

"son" I'm loving this convo

"You're a horse" XD

GROVER IS PRECIOUS AHHH

"Even now, he still wants nothing to do with me. What am I even doing here? There's no place for me here" STOP.

Lukeeeee

What the frick- is that Juniper?!?! OMG THE COUNCIL OF CLOVEN ELDERS?!?!?!

"No one is gonna tell him anything" pjo in a nutshell

Yo it's Clarisseeeee

Luke is so nice to Percy. This is gonna hurt

"You can't force the gods to do anything" WATCH HIM

"Is there a Greek god of disappointment? Maybe someone should ask him if he's missing a kid" Percy my boy please we love you. I said it before and I'll say it again.

"They like the smell of BEGGING" facts

AHHHHHH HE'S PRAYING TO HIS MOM WITH BLUE FOOD I CAN'T (I mean she's better than like all the gods combined so justified)

"I've made some friends here" TALKING ABOUT LUKE- Percy just you wait :(

"He doesn't get to ignore you" #mama's boy (we love him for that though)

SUPREME LORD OF THE BATHROOM, BABY!!!

THE PERCY AND ANNABETH CONVO I'M DYING I'M DEAD

"She's my little sister" :(((((((((((((((((

So I was pronouncing Thalia's name correctly

"Not you, sunshine" EEEEEEEEEEE

Lol Percy and Annabeth are so passive-aggressive towards each other I love it

THE FLOSSING I CAN'T

THE CLAIMING SCENE THAT WAS AWESOME

"I am Sally Jackson's son" LET'S FREAKING GOOOOO

Anyways this was AWESOME and now I gotta wait another week :(

[tallulah477]

Soooo... I LOVED HUNTING THE TAWTUTE(gave me more inspo for my own au) like, literally squealed when I saw chapter 2! You are a total tease with the knotting, and it got me thinking....

what if jake found out about his son's little human when he noticed them spending more and more time together, without Lo'ak dragging Neteyam into trouble (bc THATS sus to him lols) so he catches them and like they think he's gunna be PISSED but no. No no, he instead teaches them that with a little prep, that a human can take a knot just fine. (I mean humans fist each other, shove giant dildos up themselves and the like. so....I think it'd work).

of course, these are just my fantasies bc i'd kill for jake to bond with his boys while i'm stuck as the human helping him give a demonstration before the boys try it out themselves. :)

Loved it, pls give me s'more (Holds hands out)

EEEEEEEEEEE! I’m so glad you liked it! The first part got so much love that I was nervous to post the extra cause I was worried it was going to be a let down. I enjoyed it and thought it was good, but there's always that doubt, ya know? Poor @eywaite has to listen to me doubt myself all the time lol (sorry, baby! 🧡) But I’m really glad people have been liking it so far.

(And thank you for sending me this message! I love getting them and hearing what people like. It's super motivating. So don't be shy)

You’re writing something like it too?!?! Post it when you’re ready and tag me in it! I’m such a sucker for dark fics and I would LOVE to read whatever you write.

I like that idea! Daddy Jake showing his boys how it's done would definitely be super hot to read 👀 And such a good point on the fisting and giant dildos LMAO. I have a plan for the next part already so idk if I would be able to work this in, but maybe for a separate fic eventually? (Although if you end up writing this yourself, tag me in it too pleaseeee)

Next part will have knotting, I promise lollll (no more teasing, although I love to tease 😏)

[i-choose-the-danger]

EEEEEEEEEEE! I was hoping you'd decide to do a Hogwarts Legacy fic an you did not disappoint! I echo what others have said. I love Ominis being a little shit and Seb getting what's coming to him. And I'm curious about payback for that payback. 🤣

But now you have me curious. Would you be willing to share your headcanons on both of them as a lee and a ler? 😁🙏🏼 Please and thank you much!

I honestly did not realize so many people love the HL cast, but I'm thankful y'all do because the feedback and messages have been so sweet! <3

Lee and Ler headcanons, huh? Of course I'll share. Under the cut.

As a Lee:

Ominis

aside from Anne, Sebastian, and MC, he isn't comfortable with anyone else touching him because he doesn't trust anyone, so those are the only three people who dare try it

his family only ever touched him to inflict pain, so the first time Anne did it he had no idea what was happening or why it was making him laugh and he freaked out at first

his sense of touch is heightened, so he's ridiculously sensitive to light touches

he'll only really tolerate it in private because he uncontrollably giggles like a little kid and he feels embarrassed when he hears himself laugh like that

he won't actively fight them off unless he gets overstimulated, because he's so touch-starved and he knows this kind of interaction is done out of love

not gonna lie, sometimes he lowkey craves it and will instigate to provoke it... he'd never admit it though

his defense is to curl up in a little ball because since he can't see, he doesn't want to risk clocking somebody in the face... he may have accidentally on purpose punched Sebastian in the ribs once or twice though

if he's tickled long enough his giggling will get broken up by snorts and it's the cutest shit you've ever heard in your entire life

his worst spots are his sides and light touches on his neck; if you barely touch his neck, he will immediately jam his shoulders up into his ears and squeak

Sebastian

this boy is deathly ticklish EVERYWHERE

because of that, he will put up a hell of a fight but will tire out quickly

his hips and above his knees are his worst spots and he will scream and go into maniacal cackles if you get him there

if you get him in public, he will resort to growling to try to cover up his laughter... got that tough guy reputation to maintain you know

he will be unintentionally violent and flail, so if you're brave enough to attack him you'd better know how to dodge and weave or you're gonna get chickenwinged in the nose

he'll try to fight it and repeatedly say he's not ticklish... even in the middle of frantic giggles and high pitched squeals

he's also overdramatic and will tell you that he's dying and can't breathe and sees a bright light etc.

being tortured like that makes him have a potty mouth that would cause a nun to faint

he'd rather die than tap out, so if you don't stop on your own, he will let it get to a point where his laugh goes silent and you just see him shaking and slapping at your hands like a fish flopping out of water

when you finally stop he will lay there for a good five minutes still giggling and twitching because all of his nerves can still feel it

As a Ler:

Ominis

with his heightened senses of touch and hearing he'll be able to figure out your worst spots quickly based on how your body tenses and how your laughs and squeaks sound

he'll jump from spot to spot just to hear how your laugh changes and it's like music to him

he's meticulous but playful, and he has pianist hands so his agile fingers will dance over your spots and make you crazy

he wouldn't tell anyone, but he's kind of obsessed with affectionate touching (handholding, hugs, cuddling, etc.), so it only makes sense that he loves being able to do this to people he cares about

he will be stone-faced and emotionless like a Vulcan aside from an occasional smirk when he finds a weak spot

his verbal teases are more matter-of-fact than making fun (ex: "My goodness, that sounds like a sensitive spot. I'll need to remember that one for the future.")

if he hears you getting hoarse or running out of breath, he'll stop and ask if you're alright or if he went too hard on you

aftercare is important - he'll let you rest against him, he might rub his palm over the spots he attacked so your nerves calm down

he's gentle with Anne and MC... but Sebastian always does something to deserve it and Ominis frequently makes him beg for mercy

it's not uncommon to find Sebastian facedown on the floor in the Undercroft with Ominis straddled on his back torturing him and demanding for him to yield; Sebastian is the only person he will be that ruthless with

Sebastian

I send your loved ones my condolences and I shall miss you, because if you become his victim, you gonna die lol

he's a ruthless ler, especially if it's retaliation

he'll resort to it if he's trying to get you to do something for him or divulge a secret and you're being stubborn

once he finds your worst spot, he'll exploit it every time

he'll sneak up behind you and give your sides a quick squeeze to spook you

he's not above doing it if you're in a sour mood and it'll make you smile, but only as a last effort if nothing else worked

verbal teases... this boy will playfully tease you about your laugh, your sensitivity, how cute he finds it when you try and fail to break out of his hold, how flustered you're getting, anything

if you're dating him, it's a part of flirting and foreplay

he used to tickle Anne when they were younger because the carefree laugh she had could light up the whole room, but after she was cursed he felt like he would break her if he so much as hugged her and he misses that closeness

that's part of why he loves that kind of bond with others he feels comfortable with; he loves being able to make people he cares for laugh like that

I think that's all the headcanons for both of them that I have for now. I might add more after I finish playing through the whole game myself. I honestly did not expect to love two Slytherin boys so much. They're written so much better than JKR ever wrote Slytherin characters.

And dang it all, writing this out has put a fic idea in my head.

[quinloki]

I'm so sorry to hear about your day, babes🩷 here's to hoping tomorrow will be better! To help with distractions though do you have any fluffy-smut headcanons for our boi Penguin? 😏 I just feel like he would be so sweet

Oh Penguin is just adorable. He's almost the most vanilla blorbo I've ever entertained the desire to write about. He's Just SO SWEET.

I just want him to have like, the most adorable little romance fic with y/n - from offering the first little wild flower he plucks up the courage to gift them, pink dusting his cheeks, to protecting them when a fight breaks out and showing his fiercest side, to the time he's tending to your (minor) wounds, apologizing that you even got a little scuffed.

You lift his hat, and see his eyes, and the heat that rushes into your face is almost dizzying and oh if he would just lean a little closer, but flustered Penguin gathers his hat and picks you up and carries you home, ears red hot and once he gets you home there's a quick kiss on your cheeks before he's running back to the crew with a promise to call later.

Eeeeeeeeeee \lol/ It would jsut BE SO CUTE!

I NEED IT.

[annonniiiiieeeee]

My honest reaction to chap 12: NO WHHYYYYYYYYY; NO NOT HIS EARS MANNNN; STOP THATS LEOS BOI FREN MANNNNNN; AHHHHHHHH; *INTENSE CRYING NOISES*; NO DONT DO THAT TO USAGI; EEEEEEEEEEE; NO RABBIT BOIIIII;- and now I'm thinking of suing the lord for rabbit abuse.

Hey what can I say. Hikiji’s the villain. He’s going to do villain things

I wish you luck in suing him as he is the law in his lands and he will not become into our lands for a court hearing.

But I’m glad you enjoyed the chapter

[monsterfloofs]

Also I want to say I love Igaatius so much he is so so silly and deliberate and has a goofy long name and is ridiculously dramatic I am giving him a little kissy on the helmet and I adore all the skeletons and eye skitterers and they're wonderful

EEEEEEEEEEE IGGGYYYY!! My beloved op idiot YES!!

All the helmet smooches yes, yes, you have all my permissions! Silly skellies make my heart so happy me boys— You know if I was a ‘prisoner’ I would be sitting at their table playing card games with them. . . and then probably watch as the boneheads get yelled at for letting said prisoner wander about XDDDD

Ahhh yes!! I really love the goopy creepers! = D They are such a fun way to remind you that while Iggy is a doofus yes, he can also be a pretty terrifying threat! He just like 👁👁 doesn’t wanna deal with the mess- He has standards!

[awooo-oooo]

Just a wittle hoonter

[betagundam]

I should rlly post my art more........... its all beta gundam doodles tho lol its weird remember when I used to post constantly? i do it on instagram now instead tumblr suddenly feels too formal to post stuff like no only the GOOD art goes here but i only draw good art once in a blue moon ahah

[darsynia]

Love that Steve's so concerned he's overstepping that it doesn't occur to him Reader's interested at all??? STEVE you freaking adorable DORK.

They are meant to be seen.

He watches you cup the face of your model and beam a wide smile, leaning down to him. You kiss that slight man’s cheek, and Steve has an out-of-body—or original-body—experience that shudders his large frame. 

I'm so completely dead like... I'm slain.

Steve, you went straight for Fisk, FFS, I knew you would, but MY GOD

“No—“ his hand smoothes over pristine and unfrayed midnight “—but I brought style.”

Iron Man swoops in to land on the other side of Richard Fisk’s body.

“Damn it, I didn’t get that on video. Can we reset and you say that line again?”

He WOULD.

Titanium boots crunch against the floor. “Looks more like my first dates than yours.”

Eeeee, that's my boi.

Look I know this is a Steve fic but but BUT

“Hey?” Tony blurts, watching Steve lift you down by the waist like a princess. “Hey?? Yeah, sure. Cool. I love being upstaged. It’s not like I didn’t offer to fund this shit a year ago—“

I adore him tho?? Ahhh. Also Steve I just... *flutters hands*

“I’ll have you know I’m fondling in the interest of science,”

Same vibe. ⤴️

AHHHH

I thought he was parading you in as bait at first.”

“You thought I was…what?”

“I thought Stark brought in the cute guy who looks perfect in my designs as some sort of dangling carrot to work for him.”

This girl might be the closest to YOU of any of the things of yours I've read, and that's a massive compliment. You're exactly this kind of matter-of-fact badass. 💚

I adore the 'Tony has his own agenda and it can look really shitty from the outside' angle here A LOT. (and hey look no screaming!)

IN-body is fab

With a hard-working girl after a fight with a bully, just as it should be.

“—well, see, if anyone’s gonna be fine should a bulletproof and bullet repellant material fail, it’ll be a super soldier, right?” 

Oooh I like the glimpse of 'a bit like Tony' you're showing here, AGAIN very you (more than a bit, there, though).

loved this, worth all the hard work, thank you for writing, eeeeeeeeeee

Threadbare (4)

Steve Rogers x Fashion Designer!Reader

Part Four: Necking Region (see previous or series)

Summary: Chaos erupts at your Spring Show, but Steve is right there...at your feet.

Warnings for canon-level violence, Tony Stark's sass (obvi), kithes, and one hella-badass AND fluffy Reader! WC 4259

For you, handsome.

Handsome? Steve can work with that.

Even in the fresh dark, he schools his face in hopes to hide the nerves fluttering beneath his skin. Steve is determined to talk to you after the show, and he won’t get waylaid like in the fall. He’ll order three of everything that crosses the stage just to spend time with you again.

Quality time.

That he pays for.

Shoot, is he making it weird? Is that better than lying?

The music cue is deafening, and Steve jumps almost imperceptibly in his seat. 

Yikes, he’s a nervous wreck. He adjust the collar of his shirt, clearing his throat in the split second while the noise is drowned out and the place is still dark, but when the lights come back up, Steve Rogers’ heart stops.

It’s like…it’s like he’s looking into the past through one of Wanda’s magic visions.

His heart swells even as his chest tightens. There’s a sharp tingle behind his sinuses but he can’t look away. He blinks away the discomfort. 

Each silhouette triggers a long lost memory because they’re him. You would have seen him.

He remembers buying children’s clothes sometimes. For a long time, his ma resewed every seam in every pair of slacks. After she died, he just rolled up the hem and tightened his belt.

Of course, your models look nothing like that. They look striking and regal. They are meant to be seen. He can tell by their faces they want to be seen in your clothes, and Steve’s proud to even know you.

He grew up stuffing newspaper in his shoes. Now, your name and men who look like him—like he used to—will be in the newspaper. You’ll be on the cover for this.

Steve compulsively sweeps his hand over his hair and his eyes fall to his lap, concealing a dopey smile. He thinks this is the single most fantastic surprise of his life…

Then he sees the tenth model.

A slight, blond man in a crisp, collarless white shirt, navy jacket, and red pants struts down the platform, and the audience goes nuts. He’s certain a monitor would register his heart completely stopping for the entire walk, but Steve can only feel right now. He can’t think. His unfocused eyes wonder to the shadow where you were before, but he can’t even see.

The group does a whole second, swift run-through, but he’s not there anymore.

You emerge in this red, white, and blue masterpiece of a gown, perfectly complimenting the coloring of the last model, and Steve’s mind, body, and soul are on fire.

He watches you cup the face of your model and beam a wide smile, leaning down to him. You kiss that slight man’s cheek, and Steve has an out-of-body—or original-body—experience that shudders his large frame. 

His mind runs away, picturing working and relaxing beside you for all things, sketching, reading, resting, but he’s little again and your face is exactly the same. You don’t look at him any differently. He’s just Steve, either way, both ways, any way, and always. 

It’s only when the person next to him bumps Steve that he, too, pops off his seat for your standing ovation. He gets lost in the joy written all over your face, clapping his hands so hard his palms sting, but he will cheer you on until he’s worn them to the bone just to—

Your face falls as the underlying noise changes in the venue.

He knows that sound.

Steve understood why flashbulb photography triggered veterans like gunfire, but nowadays there’s no mistaking the difference. Those are bullets, and someone is pointing guns directly into your event space.

The room is already in complete chaos when Steve turns toward the intrusion. Guests scatter everywhere in every direction, some so disoriented they run at the shots.

Steve whips out his phone and yells over the din for F.R.I.D.A.Y to call emergency services, police and medical, to his location, then starts what should be an easy, ten-foot journey, but you’re practically across an ocean.

The music hasn’t stopped. People closest to the neck of the stage are still clapping, unsuspecting of the crowd knocking them down in search of two stage doors locked from the other side.

Something is off though because nothing Steve sees is impacted until he swivels back, shoved off kilter by two terrified women who tilt his gaze higher.

The panels of sheer fabric he thought were moody decor are fielding bullets like baseballs in a practice net. He’s never witnessed anything quite like it, but at least it means Steve has time to get to you. He has to move you off the stage so you aren’t so easy of a target.

Smacked around like a pinball in high speed machine, Steve hastily rushes to the rose-rimmed platform, barely missing your ankle in his reach and shouting for your attention.

He thinks you’ve heard when you spin, but it’s too late. Someone has breeched the protective panels, and any temporary structures throughout the venue start exploding from a hailstorm of semi-automatic fire.

Steve checks that the stage doors have been unlocked. Guests are getting out, but the bottleneck is slow. Your models are stuck on the stage, their path blocked by fallen scaffolding and sparking lights. You need to get the hell down, so he raises a hand to call for you again.

And then…

And then there’s an enormous arch of navy and red, centered by the glowing star on your chest.

And then a bullet streaks across the silvery mesh on your stomach.

A gunman has come around your shield, and Steve’s seeing red—well, more red—as he scans to see you unharmed.

Screw that guy.

Steve vaults over the stage, decks the gunman square in the jaw, and waits till the limp body rests motionless against a fallen chair.

He looks up to see you, not smiling but not upset. You’re waving for the trapped models to come closer to the barrier before meeting Steve’s eyes.

“Go get ‘em.“ You pull at the cuff of your filigreed sleeve, ticking your head to signal Steve should, too. “You’re dressed for it.”

He studies the buttons on his jacket, those unique ones at his wrists that hold concentric circles like his shield…or so he thought. Now he realizes, they aren’t just buttons; they are activation buttons.

He grabs his forearms to press both, feeling a gentle tingle spread.

His eyes snap back up to yours.

“Oh.”

You wink at him before all automated function of his body takes over, and Steve runs headlong for the goons with guns, wearing naught but a shockingly-useful suit separate and the ghost of his same goofy smile.

You think he’s handsome.

 Steve tucks and rolls behind one fabric screen, clocking the location of one gunman by the muzzle flare through the fabric. He rushes and drops one—two—three more until he sees a small grouping split off from a masked man’s side.

It’s Richard Fisk in a shock-white suit and with completely obscured face, but it’s absolutely ‘The Rose’ with a perfect blood-red bloom stuffed in his lapel.

The goons will stop if the boss goes down, Steve knows. He’s seen it a hundred times before, so he grabs the sidearm of the man he just leveled and fires at Fisk’s leg.

The bullet lands exactly where intended but hits like no more than a crowd-suppressant beanbag.

“Is that the best you can do, Captain?”

Great. You made Fisk a bulletproof suit, too.

Steve jumps behind the nearest screen, losing ground but crouching beside one of the other unconscious gunmen. A can of tear gas is strapped to the guy’s chest, and Steve just acts.

Fisk howls like a banshee, ripping the bizarre purple and black striped mask off his face to gasp for air and cough.

The Rose laughs, cocky and taunting. “You brought morals to a gunfight. You don’t even have your frisbee.”

Fisk sprays bullets randomly in the direction from which he saw the canister fly, and Steve sprints, sliding on his knees all the way to Fisk’s feet, arms up and shoved together as if he’s wearing his Wakandan guards. He feels some rounds bounce off his chest, hardly slowing him down, but the sound of bullets as they ricochet off his sleeves is intense. No doubt, Fisk would have landed multiple kill shots.

Armed police file in the entrance and scream for the goons to put their weapons down and their hands up.

Another coughing fit pauses Fisk’s assault. Steve chances opening his arms and swings immediately for the sneering, twisted face above him.

The man spins with the concussive force. Just before Fisk collapses in a makeshift bed of hot ammo shells and cold rose petals, Steve stands and adjusts his jacket.

“No—“ his hand smoothes over pristine and unfrayed midnight “—but I brought style.”

Iron Man swoops in to land on the other side of Richard Fisk’s body.

“Damn it, I didn’t get that on video. Can we reset and you say that line again?”

“Tony,” Steve warns.

“What?! It was so good, buddy. No seriously, I’m proud of that—“ Steve turns to check on you, watching the fabric of your skirt flutter back down to drape across the runway “—dare I say it’s my influence. I want proof you—“

“Tony,” Steve shouts again. Finally, the music is turned off from the media console.

“All clear,” Tony yells with his hands cupping his mouth. “Where’s your ‘girlfriend?’” He relaxes his arms after air-quoting and gives Steve a once-over. “Don’t think I don’t know you cut me in line for that.” 

Steve fiddles with his cuffs, attempting to swallow a blush and failing. He presses the buttons again. The tingling stops.

Tony frowns, pointing an accusatory finger as he watches Steve shrug. “That’s favoritism, and I thought you were better than that.” He turns deeper into the venue, screaming, “Sheers! You good?”

There’s no audible answer, so the pair make their way past the decimated decor.

Titanium boots crunch against the floor. “Looks more like my first dates than yours.”

“For the love of god, Tony, please…” but Steve is suddenly engrossed, rounding one last screen to see your models and several guests nervously huddled at your legs, your arms reaching out to comfort each and every one.

So strong. So soft. That’s you. That’s what you create.

“Hey,” you say with a huge breath and a soft sweet smile as Steve approaches.

He makes his way straight to your feet and holds out his hands. “Hey.”

“Hey?” Tony blurts, watching Steve lift you down by the waist like a princess. “Hey?? Yeah, sure. Cool. I love being upstaged. It’s not like I didn’t offer to fund this shit a year ago—“

“Language,” you and Steve say simultaneously.

“—or anything. No big deal.” Tony scoffs. “When else would I be perfectly within my rights to swear? We have to talk about this is my point.” He waves his gauntlet in the general area of you and clucks his tongue.

“Any other day, Stark.”

Tony, however, doesn’t need others to be as amused as he is. “Admit it. I’m an inspiration.”

“To find alternatives? To find feasible, reproducible options?” You break away from Steve’s grasp to step closer to Tony. “Yes, I did that. We can’t all be covered in nanotech.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s cost prohibitive,” you rage.

Steve stands ready to catch you, seeing the way your energy wilts after each sentence and that you can’t keep your hand up without them shaking.

Tony snorts. “What? Speak english.”

“Speak average,” you whip back, but before a staring contest can ensue, Abby pounces to swing you into a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!”

You’re distracted by your assistant while Steve scopes out the venue, noting the triage area and cops beginning to take statements from unharmed guests.

Knowing Steve will ask, Tony interjects. “No major injuries. Mostly just bruises and sprains from people trampling each other.”

That’s incredible considering the pools of spent shells all on one particular side of those tall panels. They must be made of the same material—

“Stop fondling, Tony.” Steve smacks his friend’s hands off your skirts.

“I’ll have you know I’m fondling in the interest of science,” his friend hisses comically. He does drop the fabric though. “Fine. Then I’ll just be taking your jacket as payment.”

“Payment for what?”

“Letting you escort the lady home and bypassing the lovely, lengthy interviews the boys in blue are gonna want.“

It takes Steve all of three seconds to consider.

“Deal,” he agrees, imagining that with a crowd this size, you’d be busy until the wee hours of the morning, wringing your hands as you repeat yourself a dozen times, wrapped in a wool blanket, exhausted. He shrugs off the blazer quickly before any of the other officers come to speak with you and tucks one arm around yours to tell you the plan.

Abby encourages the escape.

Steve’s thrilled he did not walk to the event. He took a car in order to line up in the red carpet procession—as awful as he finds the practice—and luckily, the driver is still ready and able to maneuver the vehicle past a sea of police cruisers.

Seeing as most of your bodice and sleeves are sheer, you curl inward for warmth instead of lean against the cool leather of the backseat. Normally, Steve would offer his jacket, but in lieu of any decent layers to peel off for you, he drapes his arm over your shoulders. The flashing red and blue lights fade in the distance as you sink comfortably against his chest.

“So…” Steve starts, quiet and casual, “Tony wasn’t supposed to know you’d already sold Richard Fisk a bulletproof suit, huh?”

He can see your eyes are still open, staring out the window, but you don’t respond right away.

“Originally, I’d basically made a very thin kevlar, and that…wasn’t the end goal, so I made a few suits for a steep price to try for, well, what you saw tonight. Stark isn’t exactly subtle.” You shift an accusatory glance up to Steve momentarily. “Three days after Dominica delivered Fisk’s first suit, none other than the Tony Stark comes into my store asking questions. He tried to get me to develop under Stark Industries, wanted my work to be exclusive—and I’m sure completely under his own brand—so I said no. This was all spoken in hypotheticals, mind you. ‘Hypothetically,’ if I worked for him, the mob couldn’t get me, and ‘hypothetically,’ he could help speed my research along. He tried a few different times, too. I thought he was parading you in as bait at first.”

“You thought I was…what?”

“I thought Stark brought in the cute guy who looks perfect in my designs as some sort of dangling carrot to work for him.”

Steve’s floored.

“When did you know I wasn’t a plant?”

“Oh, one second after seeing your face. Nobody with an agenda is that good at looking clueless.”

He’d be offended if it weren’t entirely true. Steve had absolutely zero idea what to do or say being fitted and consulted on for civilian clothes, and he thought he was supposed to be meeting a man that whole time. However, he would not put it past Tony to have intended he be bait with no warning, and in fact, this would count as the greatest ‘long game’ Stark has ever played. Steve wouldn’t have needed more incentive to get close to you.

“Yeah, I invented the stuff,” you continue with a shrug and a yawn, “but he doesn’t own me and I like designing all sorts of things. I think that’s…”

Your voice trails off before Steve prods. “What?”

“I think that’s why he goaded me about my typical line. I told him I wouldn’t be pigeonholed into dressing superheroes, so I would look like a hypocrite if I still only made clothes for—“ you sit up and fake a deep, arrogant voice “—shiny, blond beefcakes.”

Steve’s hand slaps his forehead. Tony absolutely used those exact words.

“So I engineered the stuff alone and overhauled my entire collection in the last two weeks. That’s what Stark does, right? Control you without really controlling you.”

“It’s called being manipulative, and he and I have had several conversations about it,” Steve grumbles.

You’ve hit a second wind of energy but fiddle with your lap before asking, “what did you think of the show?”

Steve sits up straighter and clears his throat.

“Ya know,” you quickly interject, “prior to it becoming the Battle of Skylight Square.”

Just as Steve opens his mouth the car stops. The driver announces you’ve arrived at the atelier and thus your upstairs apartment.

Steve steps out and realizes the police car usually stationed at the curb is no longer there, likely called away to the scene earlier. He dismisses his driver for the evening and makes the executive decision to stay as your guard the rest of the night.

You shuffle to the front door, exclaiming that the real piece de resistance of your gown is your pockets from which you brandish your keys. Steve’s grateful you’re animated (if a little loopy) and distracted while his mind scurries to form words.

He can’t express what he saw and felt when he looked on that stage, so he hums in agreement with your rant on pockets and follows behind you, hands on your hips as you struggle to walk up the staircase.

You pause on the first step and peek at him over your shoulder.

“So…’Button,’ huh?”

He blushes furiously and focuses on your balance when you won’t. The dress train is long enough to require he lift it so he can see the stairs beneath his own feet. You two climb slowly.

“Well,” Steve blusters, repositioning the layers so one of his hands on your hip sits under your own hand that lifts the front bustle, “‘Handsome,’ right?”

One step up. You snort. “You say that like it’s odd that I’m attracted to you, but I think I thoroughly proved that tonight, mister.”

Another step up, and you’re about three-quarters of the way there.

Steve can’t hold back anymore though, not even till the top of one flight.

He uses his grip to spin you around and nudges his foot under your skirts, rising to the stair just below you. You’ve dropped all else and grabbed onto him for balance, cupping his cheeks like he saw you do earlier tonight. You have to lean down to him as his whole being screams ‘let me kiss you.’

Steve has a distinctly in-body experience, all his imaginings of touching a woman so sweetly and in exactly the way he would have a century ago come to fruition right there.

With a hard-working girl after a fight with a bully, just as it should be.

He loses track of his hands amongst the tangled yards of your dress, but your lips are soft and perfect. He ascends a few inches more by way of his tip toes and clings to the railing for balance. Steve has the fleeting thought that he might inadvertently be yanking you toward him with a palm over your ass—not on it because he can barely tell there is even a body part there—so he moves his hand up for assurances. Up is safer. Up is more gentlemanly. He teeters both on his toes and on the cusp of gentlemanly given how lost Steve is in devouring you.

Stunning and innovative as they are, your skirts are prohibitively fluffy, and Steve feels more and more of your weight resting on him, those last dregs of adrenaline draining away. He pulls back, ghosting a peck on your still eagerly pursed lips.

“Let’s get you comfy, Button,” he husks, rolling his thumb back and forth between what he now realizes are your shoulder blades.

You nod, your forehead against his, and although he’d normally think it forward, his desire to take care of you wins out, deliberately finding your thigh to coax your legs around him.

He carries you the rest of the way, nearly tripping but laughing the whole journey. “Sure it saved some people,” he jokes, “but then ‘bout took me down, so…”

He deposits you by your closet and goes to make you a very sweet herbal tea while you change. He’s surprised when you emerge dressed down with sweats for him in hand. 

“Menswear designer,” you remind him simply.

Even though it was never technically real until this moment, Steve falls back into the routine of kissing your temple so easily as he passes off the mug and heads to the tiny bathroom. 

When he returns though, you have a familiar thousand-mile stare.

He tries to change the subject, to get you talking about something other than today, tonight, and tomorrow. He draws a blank until the shuffle of paper sounds beneath his hand. It just so happens that on your dining table—or should he say, your work desk?—is a sketch for his Gala outfit. 

“Would you come with me?”

You hum softly in question.

“I mean, as my date. Will you go on a date with me? To this Hellfire thing?” 

The distance in your eyes shrinks until it’s just him and you. A smile blooms across your strained face.

“Yes. I’d like that,” you say softly before taking a huge breath that seems to physically toss weight off your hunched form. “Whatever shall I wear though…”

“Not to give you extra work,” Steve chuckles back, “but I know this great designer.”

You laugh into your tea, both hands around the ceramic, holding on for dear life.

“Should I open a window? You probably could use some more fresh air,” he offers. 

“Oh, they’re painted shut, possibly since before I was born, but we could go to the roof?” 

He’s not sure if that’s a commentary on you finding him lurking up there last week, but it’s a fine idea nonetheless. “Chairs?” 

You look around and counter. “Pillows?”

Steve takes another moment to think while you gather, and he ends up holding several cushions and your tea. As you both continue up the much tinier staircase to the access door, something occurs to him. 

“Wait, did you give me a prototype that was untested?”

You laugh nervously. “Um—“ you use your butt to open the door “—well, see, if anyone’s gonna be fine should a bulletproof and bullet repellant material fail, it’ll be a super soldier, right?” 

“So I was your guinea pig?!”

“I’m sorry,” you burst sarcastically. “You got a free, custom jacket—which you chose to wear to my show, might I add—and what would you have had ready without my ‘untested prototype?’” 

Steve makes doe eyes in the dark, ambient light pollution. “I just thought you cared about my safety there for a minute…” 

“I cared for everyone’s safety,” you chirp in retaliation for his heavy guilting. “I made those panels just in case, but I was never, ever going to cancel my whole show on the assumption Fisk would pull a stunt like that. Forgive me for not living my life in fear of what that lunatic, second-rate kingpin might do!” 

He shrugs at that, dropping his pillows in a makeshift seat pattern right beside yours. “Fair point.” 

There’s a comfortable silence while you sip your cooling tea. 

“Should have made myself one,” Steve laments in a soft breath. 

“Sweet, chivalrous beefcake,” you whisper, shaking your head. 

“Tony really said that, didn’t he?” 

“I think he wanted me to know he is my competition for your affection.”

“You aren’t…” Steve stops himself. He was going to say you and Tony are not competitors at all, but that isn’t true on multiple levels. He swivels to scoop up your legs and settle them over his lap, just like he used to on the couch at the Tower, and you squeak, clutching your sloshing tea. One of his hands circles your hip to rest at the top of one leg. The other lands at the strip of bare skin where your sweats don’t touch the ankle of your slip-on shoes. His pinky flicks over the fleece lining, rounding out his mental measurements of your body. For now.

“There is no competition,” his concludes in a low, deep tone. “You win.”

You stare up at him with glassy eyes now, in awe of something he can’t see but hopes to earn. This time it’s your expression that pleads for him, and he leans in for another lingering, thorough kiss.

Steve licks the sweet taste off his lips. “Should’ve made another tea,” he repeats.

Your eyes open again slowly, sleepily, reminding him of that daydream of waking up next to you and breakfast in bed.

He sneaks another peck before you can forms words.

“Is this a bad time to tell you…that I forgot my keys and the door shut all the way?”

Steve looks over incredulously at that stupid exit and sighs, scratching his jaw.

“It’s, uh, about as bad as—“ he debates admitting what he’s about to “—well, I can, I mean I could get us back in, but…” He glances over the side of the building. “How do you feel about sleeping with a window open, or rather, no window?”

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @shelbygeek @rogersideup @eyebagsanonymous @trudy-shams @saranghaey @darsynia @femefetalelevelingup

[Last Part]

A/N: probably not as well edited as it should be, but meh, I'm too excited to release this out into the wild! Comments, keysmashes, and asks always welcome. Thank you for reading!

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[ssugarsnap]

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