#Late Bloomer

[sparkbirdmusic]

I wrote this quote down when I was reading Shigeru Mizuki’s Showa. keep going. don’t give up. amass a body of work you’re proud of, even if you’re the only person in your audience (for now). someday someone will be thrilled to pore over all those riches

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

Hi! I was wondering if you could possibly do Park Seonghwa as your late bloomer bf please?

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

Disclaimer: This analysis is based on traditional astrology and therefore unconfirmed, think about it, write about it, be delulu but don't take it seriously. Does contain smut so 18+

Word Count: 1.7 K

It's also probably different than what you were expecting so DON'T come for me, this is just my opinion!!!

This is painful for me to write as Seonghwa is in my bias line but I gotta keep it real here, no putting idols on a pedestal on this blog.

This analysis is more difficult for me to write than the others b/c Seonghwa's natal chart reveals he has a rather *complicated* experience and view of romantic relationships.

His Cancer Moon/Aquarius Venus/Aries Mars/5th House Scorpio all have polarising values which clash against each other and can lead to Seonghwa being quite *messy* in relationships b/c his sexual and physical needs are very different to his emotional and romantic needs.

He has a high drive and can happily have copious amounts of sex with random people b/c he has the ability to detach emotionally and focus on the physical/biological pleasure of it.

That's why out of all the members, he is (imo) the biggest fuckboi in the group b/c he can participate in hook-up culture and be content with it, he might even prefer it if he's going through a bad stage in his life as he does lean on sex as a coping mechanism with his 8th House Venus.

BUT!!!

The constant hook-ups and meaningless sex doesn't satisfy him for long b/c it's not nurturing the emotional/romantic needs of his Cancer Moon/8th House Venus who does yearn for a exclusive, soul-tethering relationship. He wants a partner to give him the same level of love and care he gives to everyone else.

I think it's likely because he's a guy in his 20s that he goes through the painful cycle of abstaining whilst he waits for 'the one', becoming impatient, horny and lonely, pursues casual hook-ups and is happy for awhile, then leaves feeling empty and hollow, goes back to abstaining and then it repeats all over again.

If you are a late bloomer and are happy for Seonghwa to be your first 'serious' boyfriend, you'll have to accept that he:

a) Has A LOT (probably higher than average) of experience AND with many people and is knowing that about him going to affect your self-esteem? (particularly, your self-esteem and confidence during sex and physical intimacy)

b) Has a lot of emotional baggage from his past experiences that could be overwhelming to witness and handle b/c you're navigating your first serious relationship which is already a lot to experience emotionally.

Now, moving on a more positive level. Seonghwa has an Aquarius Venus which embodies the 'friends to lovers' trope for their love life so for Seonghwa to desire a romantic attraction towards you, you probably have been friends with him for a LONG time and he feels safe enough in revealing his feelings and background to you before he even contemplates looking for more.

This makes the relationship begin more smoothly b/c ideally, you would have told him you are a late bloomer before you become a couple and he would accept it, even be proud that he's your first boyfriend b/c it's something that ties him to you.

Even if the relationship ends, he will be in your heart permanently b/c he's your first and that gets his heart soaring, his eyes glistening, maybe even slightly turned on b/c it means he's claimed a piece of you in some way.

Yes, he's an Aquarius Venus but it is in the 8th House nonetheless so there's a strong Pluto influence in the way he loves and desires you.

He is an Aries stellium so he does bottle up all of his emotions and I feel he'd pine for awhile before he makes a decision, weighing up between whether sabotaging the friendship is worth it for something more.

I'll be honest and say the 'fwb to exclusive' pipeline is very Seonghwa coded in my mind, if I wasn't trying to be romantic here I'd say if you revealed you were a virgin to Seonghwa, he'd offer to be your first and give you the safest, most caring experience of your life and then you'd regularly have sex so he can 'teach and show you' the dynamics of it and then you both get too emotionally invested and end up together (very much like my Arrangement fic, *wink wink*).

And I say this b/c of his 5th House in Scorpio which means sexual compatibility is VERY important for him in a long-term relationship, it's the final seal before he chooses to be exclusive and monogamous to you.

But back to being romantic, he has a Cancer Moon which gives him and incredible amount of empathy and care and so I imagine him not being formal or official when he asks you out but revealing his feelings impulsively if you emotionally trigger him somehow.

For example, you were hanging out with him and you were crying or expressing your insecurities about never experiencing love, saying something like 'I just don't know if anyone will ever love me' or 'I don't think i'll ever experience that type of love, it's just not in the cards for me' etc.

I can totally imagine him being close to you with his soft, expressive eyes, clutching your hands and responding with something like 'That's not true, I'm done with hiding, I can give you this, I don't care what happens, I want to give you this'.

Not much would change once it's official, there would still be that element of friendship with Seonghwa taking you out on regular dates such as the movies, outdoors, anything involving food and of course, playing Lego.

But the tiniest seeds of intimacy would begin to grow, quality time is a strong love language for Seonghwa so he would build up the intimacy by being subtle at first, sitting knee to knee instead of separate, hand on your back as he passes you, lingering touches as he finishes hugging you- all those small but personal touches to let you know there is more between you now, that you are not 'just friends' anymore.

A huge challenge for Seonghwa would be taking it slow, waiting and holding back in terms of sex and physical intimacy b/c he's impatient and chooses to deep-dive (haha, get it?) into all of his relationships.

His flow and pacing with you could be back and forth b/c men with Aries Mars in general are not known to be gentle lovers, they prefer it fast and rough BUT he is lunar-ruled so your emotions and well-being will come first with Seonghwa and an example of this manifesting is like...

You're in his bed, making out and Seonghwa starts out gentle with light kisses and soft hands down your sides but as time goes by, he becomes more worked up, his mouth speeding up in a way that leaves you breathless and his fingers instinctively grip against your skin which causes you to wince, which checks him back to reality so he murmurs a quiet 'sorry' before slowing down and kissing you softly again.

Whilst I do believe Seonghwa would prefer experienced and 'sensual' partners, there is one type of 'inexperienced' partner he would LOVE being with and that's-

Inexperienced. Open-minded. Eager to please.

Aries in general (ie me) but ppl with Aries Mars particularly get off on BEING desired, Seonghwa has to feel like you desire him as much as he does you, that you can feel it in the tips of your fingers and all the way down to your toes, that it warms your cheeks, turns you inside out and breathless for him.

And with his Cancer Moon, it would get him hard, needy and downright BAD for you if you were inexperienced and eager to please but also slightly helpless.

Seonghwa may be a switch but he is VERY dom-leaning, like prefers to be in control 90% of the time for he is a perfectionist.

(which is why it irritates me that bottom!seonghwa is the most popular tag on matz fanfics b/c it would be the other way around, hj is way more switch-oriented than seonghwa is- you seen hj around seonghwa? man folds like laundry)

Imagine Seonghwa helping put your shoe on after a quiet dinner date and it's late at night and few people around, he's a legs (and boobs) man so the act itself is making his head fuzzy and pants tight as he stands back up and pulls you into a random alleyway, pushes you against the wall and kisses you feverishly, grinding against you.

He pulls away and stares down at you, lips slightly bruised and eyes blown out with desire, you're pulling him in and running your hands down your chest, Seonghwa knows you want this but he can see the slight trepidation in your movements, a tiniest hint of hesitation and unsurety b/c it's your first time making out spontaneously in a public place (Seonghwa is a bit of exhibitionist) and you want this but are unsure of HOW to move forward and it stroke's Seonghwa in all the right places.

It strokes Seonghwa emotionally in his need to protect and shield you but also strokes him carnally in his need to claim and corrupt you.

'Oh precious, look at you, you're becoming so naughty for me now aren't you? Don't worry, I'll cover you so no one can see us, just want to make you feel good'

And finally, I feel like having Seonghwa as your first serious boyfriend would help you grow more confident in expressing your boundaries and needs. Seonghwa is emotionally sensitive and he does require a lot of reassurance and validation, even moreso b/c being your first is just as nerve-wracking for him as it is for you.

I think if Seonghwa got carried away during sex and he got too rough and afterwards you were crying and he thought you were in pain and you didn't reassure him that you were okay, he would help settle you down and then lock himself in the bathroom and bawl his eyes out from how guilty he'd feel over hurting you- even accidentally.

So while I don't think Seonghwa is the best preference for a late bloomer boyfriend, I think the relationship he would give you would be a self-empowering one, I feel his love would help you embrace and love yourself more.

Which is accurate b/c Seonghwa always mentions how much he wants his 'little stars' to embrace and love themselves.

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @craxy-person @hologramhoneymoon @gyuhanniescarat @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @berryberrytan @sensitiveandhungry @laylasbunbunny @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @starillusion13 @justaaveragereader @jus2passtime @shroomoth @marykpoppins @leomggg @daddysspecialdollyworld @mykryptonitelight @wisejudgedragonhairdo @sanakimohara @chansfavouritetoy

This took me three hours to write so pls reblog, comment and send me your thoughts! I'm very curious b/c I know this is probably not the standard opinion most were expecting (Seonghwa does hide a lot).

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Late Bloomer 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Peter Parker, Steve Rogers (Professor AU)

Summary: you start your second year of university but as the workload grows more intense, you start to feel your age. (mid-30s reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

You are as ever painfully early. It's a habit that often leaves you wandering or hovering awkwardly. You check your watch as you come up to the steps of the century-old building. You are in dread of your physics class but it turns out that all the easy electives fill up fast. 

Before you can start the ascent, there's a scuff of steps from the other side. The breadth of the stairs nearly spans a third of the grand facade. You glance over as a young man with a messenger bag rushes up the first few steps only to trip and sprawl over the concrete stairs with an oomph. Without hesitation, you rush over as he groans and clatters back to the bottom. 

"Oh my gosh, are you alright?" You scoop up the phone that flew from his hand, seemingly the cause of his accident.  

He grunts and struggles to turn himself over, clutching his chest as he can't even get a word out. You know exactly what's happened. You rub his back through his burgundy jacket and give a gentle lat. 

"Ah, you're fine, honey, you just got the wind knocked out of ya." 

He nods and gulps, a spiral of his reddish brown hair falling down his forehead. His dark eyes meet yours, their panicked sheen softening as his lips tremble in an attempt at a smile. 

"Thanks," he rasps at last. 

You pull your arm back and offer him your phone. 

"That was quite the tumble," you stand straight and extend your hand. He takes it and hauls himself up. 

"Yeah, this dang thing," he wiggles his cell and tucks it away in his jacket, "always getting me in trouble." 

You smile nervously and your eyes drift down as he favours one leg. There's a red splotch growing on his khakis. You pop your brows up in concern. 

"Er, think you got yourself good." You point and he looks down. 

"God! I knew I shouldn't have worn these ones. I told May, dark colours!" 

"Baking soda, maybe a bit of club soda," you assure him. "I got bandaids in my bag." 

"You-- do?" He's surprised. 

"Can never be too prepared," you smile. "Um, I guess.. 

We're in the way." 

You glance around as you sense bodies heading up the steps, a few glancing your way. 

"Uh, yeah, why don't we head inside," he takes a ginger step. "Uh, typical. My first day." 

"It'll get better," you say. 

"Hm, yeah, I guess it already has," he grins at you before he turns back up the steps. 

"You need help?" You ask. 

"No, no, I'm not a total disaster," he chuckles. "So," he clears his throat as you catch up to him, "what do you teach?" 

"Oh," you repress a strike of embarrassment. Of course he would assume you're a professor, or a TA at the very least. It's obvious you have a few years on him and most of your classmates. "I'm a student." 

"Nice," he nods, "wait, oh, gee, I didn't mean to imply-- ah, I'm sorry." 

"No, no, it's fine. It's my second year. First year all the freshmen called me mom," you shake your head. "But that might be the bandaids in my bag." 

"Maybe," he stops and squints, "right..." he points his finger around as he thinks, "this way." 

You let him guide you. You don't need to be in class for another half hour. You follow him up to the second floor. That's where your class will be. Convenient. 

When he stops at a door and digs around in his pocket, your heart drops. You look up at the room number as he takes out a set of keys and unlocks the door. You chew on your dismay. 

He lets you in ahead of him. You wait patiently and he heads up to the podium. He leans on the table next to it as he unhooks his bag from over his shoulder. He sighs and peers down at his knee. 

The pulls up the fabric and hisses. You approach as you sift through your bag. He bends his leg as he looks at the scrape. It's not that bad. 

You take out the little pack of alcohol wipe from the little emergency pouch. How many times have you played mother hen to drunk coeds? You're prepared for it all. 

"Wow, you got everything in that magic bag," he teases. 

You squat down and wipe the blood away. As you peel the bandaid wrapper away, you scoff, "I'm a pack horse. Utterly terrified of forgetting anything important." 

You cover the cut and run your fingers across the bandage to make sure it sticks. He winces. 

"Sorry," you apologise as you stand and crumple up the wipe and wrapper. 

You search around for the garbage and toss the waste. You fish again in your bag and take out your sanitizer. You squirt it onto your palm and drop it back through the open zipper. Your rub your hands together as he pulls his pantleg back down. 

"Well, since you got my blood on your hands, I guess you should get a name too," he chuckles, "I'm Peter. Er, Professor Parker. Still getting used to that." 

He offers his hand and you shake it, "Olive." 

"Olive. Pretty. Er, interesting. Oh no," he pulls back, "I went through sensitivity training. Can I say that?" 

"It's fine, professor. I'm not overly fond of the name myself," you shrug. 

"Right, well," he bends his arm and tugs up his sleeve to check his apple watch. "I hope I didn't make you late." 

"Well, actually, funny story," you scratch the side of your neck, "I'm enrolled in Physics 2." 

He tilts his head and his lips part on disbelief, "you're joking." 

"Nah, it's not exactly my favourite subject but I'll do my best," you say, "but er, if you need to get set up, I can wait in the hall." 

"What? No. You're early. Make sure you get the best seat," he insists. "I will say the front row is where you wanna be but I was a student not too long ago and I won't be insulted if you sit in the back." 

You laugh, "well, you know, I'm a late bloomer and these ears aren't so good." You kid, "front row's fine with me." 

His grin lingers, awkwardly as his forehead lines and he tries to come up with a response. You smile, "I'll go sit down." 

You give a little wave and go to find a seat. You settle in with your bag in your lap and slid out your notebook and the box of fresh pens. You tried your laptop for notes but you just find your eyes hurt from the blue light. 

You tuck your bag under your seat and unfold the small desk from the arm rest. As you peel back the cover of your notebook, your ears tingle. You glance over as Peter-- Professor Parker, peeks at you. You give a tense smile and pull out a pen, putting your focus back to your notebook. 

At least if you do crappy, you might be able to charm yourself into at least a passing grade. 

[summerwages]

between a rock and a hard place...

[succulentsiren]

The perfect response when people try to pressure you or rush you, is that “My time will come.” Some people need to realize that each individual is on their own journey and path in life. No two people are meant to be the same. I don’t believe in being a late bloomer or anything because — everyone arrives to their destination when they’re ready (as long as they’re moving). We are each meant to achieve different things at different times. More people need to internalize this understand this and stop comparing and expecting everyone to be one the same timeline because life doesn’t work that way.

If you’re experiencing this from others, ignore them, remain patient and stay in your lane. You’ll arrive when you’re ready because you’re on your own divine timeline.

[classycookiexo]

[dk-thrive]

I was a late bloomer. But anyone who blooms at all, ever, is very lucky.

— Sharon Olds, Stag’s Leap. (Alfred A. Knopf, 2013) (via Regina Rosenfeld)

[underachieverse]

[itslenagain]

I am like. Speechless. Emotional. Gay. Over Chappell Roan performing "Good Luck, Babe" at the VMAs. Literally breathless watching her performance.

There have been queer icons before her, she is not the first and will not be the last, but holy shit, the significance of her having the kind of platform where she can sing a song about the lesbian experience to an audience that huge. To be able to sing on national television about being closeted. To literally say "you'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling" to all of the queers out there who are maybe questioning or unsure or hiding or anything really.

I've said before that I needed to hear this song a decade ago, I needed some sign that the way I felt was first off not wrong and second off not going to go away. I'm crying. I'm emotional. I hope that her song touches people out there who need it. I hope that queer kids/even adults feel seen. I hope that one day nobody will have to spend years questioning and hiding themselves just because cisheteronormativity told them they should.

[lgbtqreads]

Happy Bi Visibility Day 2024!

Happy Bi Visibility Day! We’re celebrating as we do, with great books helmed by bisexual main characters! With absolutely no consistency, I’ve bolded the names of some of the bi MCs who aren’t called out as such in the copy. For even more recs, check out past years’ posts! Middle Grade Lulu Sinagtala and the City of Noble Warriors by Gail D. Villanueva Lulu Sinagtala can’t wait for a fun…

[beautification-tales]

This Late bloomer Tale takes place after The Repisal and before The Betrayal.

The Preoccupation

A Late Bloomer Tale

Stacey sat across from Marsha in the tiny, dimly lit room. It was hard to tell if the shadows were cast by the poor lighting or the weight of their shared secrets. The walls were adorned with posters of sunsets and butterflies, a feeble attempt at adding color to a place that seemed to suck it out of you the moment you stepped inside. Stacey twisted her hands nervously in her lap, her gaze darting between Marsha's eyes and her lap, anywhere but at the form on the table between them.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to meet Marsha's steady gaze. "I... I didn't know where else to turn. I tried to stop, but I can't. I can't stop thinking about it, I can't stop wanting it. It's like... it's like a drug." Marsha laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. "Umm yeah Stacey! We’re succubi we have sex all the time. You know that, right? That's what we do. That's who we are." She leaned forward, her eyes burning with an intensity.

“I know, I know but it’s not sex… it’s him. I fucking hate him but I can’t stop wanting him. It feels so good to touch him. I’m thinking about him now and I’m so wet. I’m going crazy. I need help. I need to stop. Please, Marsha, help me stop." Stacey's voice broke as she confessed her darkest secret to her friend. Marsha sat back in her chair, her eyes narrowing as she considered Stacey's words.

“Who is it? Just fuck and suck him and get it over with. You can move on then, right? I mean, that's what we do. That's our reality now." Marsha's words were like a slap in the face. Stacey flinched and felt a stinging sensation in her cheeks. "You don't understand. He's different. It's not just sex for me... it's him. He's everything." She paused, trying to find the right words to explain. "When I'm with him, it's like my entire being is consumed by him. I can't think about anything else. I can't cum without thinking about him."

Marsha rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Oh, please. You sound like some lovesick human girl. We're succubi now, Stacey. We're not supposed to care about that shit." Stacey felt a tear trickle down her cheek. "But I do care. And I need help. I don't want to feel like this anymore." Marsha sighed, her expression softening slightly. "Fine, when you “bloomed” the first time, what were you thinking about?”

Stacey swallowed hard, reliving the memory. She'd enjoyed the feeling of pleasure when it happened. She had never been touched or even kissed before she bloomed. When she was crying out in pure bliss a picture did play in her mind. It flashed so quickly that she nearly forgot about it. “I thought about fucking Peter.” She looked up at Marsha, hoping her friend would understand. But Marsha's expression was unreadable.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up… Peter?! The last person on the planet to think about and you thought about that limp dick?” Marsha asked incredulously. She leaned forward, her expression now somewhere between confused and concerned. Stacey nodded, feeling a knot form in her stomach. Marsha shook her head and sighed.

“Well what I learned from my maker is our first desire must be fulfilled. Mine was Tom, Ruby was Mark. I thought yours was revenge but you actually… want Peter…ew” Marsha trailed off, looking at Stacey like she had just discovered she had a second head. Stacey felt her face flush red, she knew how much of a loser Peter was now, how he used to bully her and now she wanted him. She didn't know how to explain it.

Marsha leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing as she studied Stacey. "Okay, I have an idea… but you’re not going to like it.” Stacey looked up, hopeful.

The next day

Peter heard the sound of someone coming down the steps to his room. He quickly turned around from his computer desk and lowered his headphones. “Mom?” he called out. There was a pause, and then the steps continued as he saw the toned legs in sandal heels and jean shorts. Peter began to sweat knowing who it might be. Stacey’s tall svelte figure was in full view now. Peter gulped as he could feel his fight or flight response.

“Stacey… please. Please no more…” Peter pleaded as she came closer to him. She sneered at him and sat upon his bed with legs crossed. “Hmm don’t worry Peter, I’m not here to feed you.” She arched her back thrusting her breasts outward. “I know you want to taste it though. I’m here to talk.” Peter felt a chill run down his spine. He knew she was serious.

Stacey glanced around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings. It was strange, she thought, how many times she came to this room to torture Peter. “I want you to be honest. Why did you bully me… every single day?” She asked as her eyes glowed. Peter swallowed hard, knowing that he couldn't lie to her.

He looked away, unable to meet her gaze. "Because you were the only girl on campus who didn’t know how to stand up for herself. Being a jerk was such a rush… I couldn’t help myself.” Stacey narrowed her eyes. It was true; he was a bully because he was insecure and shallow. Stacey got up and wrapped her fingers around Peter’s neck. Peter whimpered as he could feel Stacey’s rage.

“I hate you so fucking much…. But I hate myself because I’ve become just like you.” Stacey whispered as she squeezed his neck. Tears welled up in Peter's eyes as he felt a tightness in his chest. He knew what Stacey was capable of and he didn't want to die. "I can’t live like this anymore. I thought ruining your life would be enough. Instead I keep coming back here. I need to be free of you. So I have to give up my power.” Stacey let go of his neck and stepped back. She looked at him, studying his face. Peter inhaled quickly, relieved that she didn't kill him.

“What does that mean?” Peter asked, his voice shaky. Stacey looked at him with a softness in her eyes that he hadn't seen before. “I renounce my power!” she exclaimed, holding her hands above her head. With a sudden burst of energy, she let out a primal scream and collapsed to the floor. Peter watched in shock as her body convulsed, her limbs twitching uncontrollably. It felt as if the air around him had turned electric. He knew what was happening, but he couldn't believe it.

Stacey's arms and legs shrunk into her body . Her skin gained spots and acne. Her hair fell flat losing its luster as if life had been sucked out of it. Her breasts deflated and her hips shrunk. She gained weight as her belly lost muscle. In moments she had returned into her former self.

She let out a long, shuddering breath as she finally stopped convulsing. Peter stared at her, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What... what happened to you?" he managed to whisper.

Stacey looked up at him, her once-beautiful face now marred by the effects of her transformation. "I'm no longer a succubus," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm human again." Peter still couldn't believe his eyes. He had never seen anything like this before.

Peter felt a pain in his gut. He wasn't sure what it could be as the pain increased. He clutched his stomach as he doubled over. His clothes felt tight around him, choking him. "What's happening to me?" he gasped out, his voice barely audible over the pounding in his ears. The pain was excruciating, worse than anything he'd ever experienced.

Stacey, now back to her human form, watched in shock as Peter's body began to change. His clothes stretched tight against his skin, feeling impossibly small. His gut evaporated away as his abdomen toned into a six pack. His arms and legs swelled, with muscle. His features distorted, his once-fat plain face becoming angular as his jawline became pronounced. Peter’s pants tore as his tiny dick grew into a size belonging to an alpha. "No," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "This isn't supposed to happen."

“Ungh, I’m back!” Peter roared as he stood up, flexing his newly defined muscles. His clothes hung loose on his body, as if they were designed for someone much smaller. His chest was broad and his abs chiseled, revealing a six-pack that made him look like a Greek god. His face was no longer fat and plain, but sharp and handsome. Even his dick, which had once been small and pathetic, was now a massive, throbbing cock. He felt powerful and invincible.

Stacey was cowering on the floor, shocked and terrified by the transformation that had just taken place. Peter, now the embodiment of everything she despised, towered over her. His muscles rippled and his cock throbbed as he stared down at her, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips. Peter with quickness picked up Stacey.He brought her face to face with him. "You bitch! You ruined my life for some mean words? You terrorized me for weeks! Now it’s my turn! You fucking cow."

Stacey tried to struggle, but Peter's grip was like iron. "Let me go!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. "You don't understand! This wasn't supposed to happen!" Peter scowled “ Now you feel sorry? I got expelled, I lost my friends! You took everything from me and I fucking hate you!” He slammed her onto his bed, the mattress pressing into her back. He got on top of her and grabbed her neck. “How do you like it? Scary isn’t it?” His fingers tightened, cutting off her air.

Stacey struggled underneath him as her hips squirmed against his. Peter’s eyes fluttered as the feeling of pleasure built in his pants. Peter loosened his grip as Stacey couched out. “You… you started it.” She gasped for breath as Peter looked down at her. His expression was one of pure anger mixed with desire. He growled in frustration before roughly pinning her arms above her head. His other hand gripped the back of her neck, holding her in place as his hips began to rock against hers.

Stacey felt his hardness pressing against her, and a feeling of warmth filled her body. She knew she shouldn't want this, but she couldn't help herself. As Peter's hips rocked against hers, she arched her back, meeting his movements with a fierce hunger. His hand gripped her breast roughly, squeezing and pinching, sending waves of pleasure through her. She felt his other hand slide down between their bodies, teasing at her wetness.

“You fucking bitch. I get it now. You wished your bully fucked you.. huh?” Peter whispered, his voice shaky. Peter's eyes narrowed as he continued to thrust against her, his cock tenting his pants. Peter ripped the remnants of his pants off his body as did the same to Stacey’s denim shorts. They looked at each other confused yet hungry for one another. Peter slid into her with ease as Stacey gasped feeling his large member stretch her vaginal walls. “This is crazy!” Stacey moaned.

“I know but I can’t stop…I don’t want to stop.” Peter grunted as he thrust harder, his cock filling her completely. His hips slapped against her ass, and she felt his hot breath against her neck. The sensation of being so completely dominated and possessed sent a shiver of desire through her. She couldn't believe how much she was enjoying this, how much she wanted him to keep going.

“I want you to say my name Peter!” Stacey demanded, Peter gripping Stacey's hair as his hips continued to thrust. Stacey arched her back, feeling his words more than hearing them. She moaned, the sound coming from deep within her. Her nails dug into his back as he thrust harder, deeper. The sensation of being taken so roughly, of losing herself in this moment, was exhilarating. She felt his hand slide between their bodies, teasing at her clit as he thrust into her.

“Ungh, Stacey!” Peter growled as he felt her body tighten around him. Her nails dug into his back, urging him on. He thrust deeper, harder, relishing the feel of her body beneath him. Stacey shook her head as she licked her lips putting her hand on Peter’s face. “ No, not that one” she breathed as her other hand reached between them, rubbing her clit.

Peter looked down at her, their faces mere inches apart. His chest heaved as he panted, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. He wanted to tear her apart with his eyes, drinking in every detail of her face. “You like this? You fucking cow!” he growled, his voice hoarse with desire. Stacey arched her back, her lips parting as she reveled in the feeling of his rough hands on her skin.

“Moo you bastard! Now make me cum! Give it to me, Peter! Take your anger out on my pussy. Be my bully! Fuck the cow. Fuck, that feels so good. Don’t stop, I'm so close, so close. Fuck, Peter! Yes, that's it! OH GOD, PETER! I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING FOR YOU!" Stacey cried out as her body shook with release. Her breathing was heavy, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her inner muscles clenching around his cock in rhythmic spasms.

Peter felt the tightening of her body, the way she arched into him, and with a growl that came from deep within his chest, he let go, pulsing inside her as he came, his hips bucking roughly against her. He gripped her hair, her shoulders, anything he could as he lost himself in the sensation of her body milking him, claiming him.

Her cries echoed in his ears, driving him even further, her nails digging into his back in a way that only seemed to heighten the pleasure coursing through him. As he finally collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving, his heart racing, he knew that something had shifted between them. It was more than just lust or the need to release tension. It was something deeper, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

He rolled off of her as they both panted catching their breath. Peter looked at her, his gaze searching her face. He had never looked at anyone quite like this before. There was something different about her, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. "I...I don't know what just happened," he murmured, his voice hoarse.

Stacey propped herself up on one elbow, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and desire. "I...I don't know either," she whispered. She traced her finger down his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her touch. "But I think...I think I like it." She bit her lip, still struggling to comprehend what had just transpired between them.

“I still hate you” Stacey said, smiling at him as she traced her finger down his chest. He smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through his body at her touch. “I fucking hate you, cow.” He growled, nibbling on her bottom lip. “Hmmm” she hummed, pushing him onto his back as she rolled onto him. He let out a groan as her body morphed instantly back to her amazing stacked proportions.

“That’s better!” Stacey smiled as she gyrated her hips on Peter. Peter’s eyes went wide as he realized he was tricked. “You lying bitch!” He growled. His hands gripped her hips, urging her to move faster. He felt his cock spring to attention once again. She guided his member into her. “Oh please you loved fucking my fat body. You are just upset I got you to show your deepest desire. You really think I was going to give up my power for a limp dick loser?” Peter groaned as he thrust deeper making her squeal. “Does that feel limp? That’s why you gave me my old body back right? You wanted my big cock, didn’t you?”

Stacey cried out as Peter’s dick filled her. His cruel words made her shiver with pleasure. Peter felt the muscles in her core grip him tighter. He was lost in the feeling of being wanted, desired. It was intoxicating. He kissed her passionately, their tongues tangling as they moved together in a frenzy. Stacey with amazing strength grabbed Peter’s hair as she pulled his head toward her bosom. Peter licked Stacey’s nipples as she placed her hands on his shoulders.

“Admit it Peter! Admit you wanted me even back then.” Stacey teased as she ground her hips against him, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Peter growled, his fingers digging into her hips as he thrust deeper. He couldn't remember wanting anything more than this, than to feel her body move against his, to feel her warmth envelop him.

Peter shook his head. “No bitch you admit it first. My bullying got you wet and awoke your humiliation kink. Say it!” He growled, feeling her body tense beneath him. He thrust harder, feeling the heat of her core surrounding him. They looked at each other deeply as they continued to move together. Sweat glistened on their bodies as they gasped for air,

their breaths mixing in the air between them.

It was a game of chicken. They both held on as long as they could. It was Peter who felt his stamina waning as his desire to climax grew. “I… admit it! I wanted you back then. You were the only one who got me going.I knew you hated me but I knew you thought about me. It made me so hard at night. I wanted you to beg for me to stop, wanted you to need me. You were my dirty little secret, Stacey. My filthy fantasy come to life. And now... now look at you. You’re just as twisted as I am. You fucking evil bitch." He growled, thrusting harder.

“You made me this way! Now give me your cum” Stacey whispered, her breath hot against his ear as she moved her hips faster. She felt him begin to lose control, the tension in his body giving way as he released himself deep inside her. With a moan, she arched her back, her breasts pressed against his chest as she came as well, her muscles clenching around him in a powerful spasm.

A week later

“So they’re letting him back into school?” Ruby asked Stacey, her voice filled with disbelief. The two of them were sitting in the cafeteria, sharing a table with Marsha. “Well, I just had to f.” Ruby interrupted Stacey’s answer and raised her hand to gesture stop. “Forget I asked. I walked into that one.” Stacey smiled.

Marsha looked a bit concerned as Stacey seemed to blush. “Are you in love?” she asked, looking back and forth between the two of them. Stacey laughed, shaking her head. “No, I don’t think so but…. Mmmm I’m like Naigara falls down there just thinking about it.”

Ruby looked impressed. "So you're saying hate fucking is amazing?” she asked with a sly grin. Stacey laughed, nodding. "It's intense. Like nothing else. You can't help but feel this weird sort of... connection with them. Like they know all your buttons and they're just pushing them. I wanted revenge but I also….wanted him to be mean to me…with his cock in me.” Stacey giggled.

“Ok then keep fucking him. Why help him get back in school?” Marsha asked, clearly not understanding the motivation behind Stacey's actions. Stacey leaned in and lowered her voice. “It’s because he can help us. Think about it Marsha. Your maker told you to build a sisterhood here. Who better to help us find and create our last sister like a sadistic bully.”

“Can I hate fuck him?” Ruby asked eagerly, her eyes shining with anticipation. Stacey laughed and shook her head. “Find your own bully” she teased. Ruby and Stacey shared a laugh before Stacey grew serious again. "But you know I’m right Marsha. It’s been harder to find the last one without a guy like Peter around here.”

Marsha looked deep in thought. She then shook her head in disagreement. "You're wrong. We are creating a new era! One were fuckbois like Peter knew their place. We are not going backward. You had your fun. Turn that fucktard fat again and leave him in his mom’s basement.”

Stacey frowned, her gaze hard. "But I pulled all the stops to get him back in." Marsha’s eyes glowed. “You heard me. Peter isn’t one of us. He is just food. So go turn him back to a limp dick and never speak of that fucktard again.”

Ruby grimaced as she noticed the tension between her sisters.

“Why the fuck should I? You get Tom right? Why can’t I have Pete?” Stacey said leaning close to Marsha. “I’m your maker so what I say goes. I helped you get him out of your system. So move the fuck on!”

“Or what?” Stacey growled refusing to back down. “Or this!” Stacey gasped as she felt a tingle in her breasts. “Can’t be the cow without milk.. right?” Marsha said coldly. Stacey grabbed at her bosom as she felt her unending well dry up. Marsha’s eyes glowed “You want to see what else I can take from you? Now go!”

Stacey got up to fulfill her maker’s request. She quietly began to walk out.“Oh and Stacey” Stacey turned around with a sad face to respond to her maker. “No staying for dinner, just do what I said, kay?” Stacey nodded in agreement and looked down defeated.

Marsha looked at Ruby “don’t worry sometimes sisters fight. She’ll come to her senses.” Ruby nodded as they watched Stacey leave.

A male student approached the two ladies. He looked puzzled as he held his tray of food. “Umm might not be any of my business but do you ladies eat at all?”

The two ladies looked at him then each other and smiled. Ruby spoke up. “I’m actually very hungry.” Her eyes glowed as the man placed his tray on the table as Ruby got up and took the guy by his hand. “I’ll see you later” she said to Marsha with a wink as she led him off to the side.

“Have you ever bullied anyone?” Ruby asked the guy as Marsha shook her head and laughed.

[howifeltabouthim]

'It's high time you enjoyed your youth.'

L. P. Hartley, from My Fellow Devils

[katy1kenobi]

It’s my birthday on Monday, but tomorrow night I am going out with my best friends to my favourite monthly queer party in the city (Christmas edition) and we are turning it into my birthday celebration.

It got me thinking about my birthday last year. I completed the bi-lesbian pipeline early this year, but on my last birthday I was still identifying as bisexual and I had a boyfriend. I had been feeling like very weird in the relationship, I always knew the relationship was a little off and friends and family would say things to me like “you just seem weird together, you are really disconnected,” and I knew it, but it was really starting to bother me and it was driving me INSANE trying to understand what we were missing that stopped us actually connecting.

I remember so vividly sitting at this restaurant for my birthday and it was the first time we had like gone out on a “date night” in well over 6 months, so we should have had lots to talk about, but we said nothing much at all to each other for the entire dinner except for him talking about some computer stuff I didn’t understand so I was just doing the classic “oh that’s cool” “yeah that makes sense” (it didn’t).

We were sitting on a raised table up the front and I could see everyone else in the restaurant really easily, and I was watching all of the other couples. My birthday is so close to Christmas so it was packed full, and everyone is in a good mood because they’ve just finished work for the year. All the other couples are giggling, holding hands, drinking a lot and having animated conversations while we were just getting through dinner.

I vividly remember looking at the other couples and thinking “we have literally never been like that” and I felt this intense longing, but if I tried to imagine myself behaving that way with someone, I could only see it with another women. I remember fully acknowledging that if my boyfriend tried to behave like that with me it would make me feel a bit sick and I’d hate it.

It was very soon after then that the penny finally dropped and I had the “oh you are a dumb ass, you’re not bisexual at all, you’re a lesbian,” moment, and broke up with said boyfriend (the disconnect was obviously both ways because you’ve literally never seen a man less phased that his girlfriend was breaking up with him because she’s a lesbian).

Now it’s nearly my birthday again and instead of sitting through a dinner feeling like something’s wrong with me because I can’t make myself feel that way about my boyfriend, I get to go to my favourite queer party with my friends as an out lesbian and everything is so much fucking brighter.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Late Bloomer 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Peter Parker, Steve Rogers (Professor AU)

Summary: you start your second year of university but as the workload grows more intense, you start to feel your age. (mid-30s reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

Your confidence starts to recover as you show up to your Art Studio class. It’s in the same room as last year and the familiarity makes you feel a little less lost. As it so happens, the professor is also the same as your first. 

Professor Rogers welcomes his class in as he did the year before. He explains that the brushes, paints, and materials in the ‘community garden’. The collection if for those in need and the need is never questioned. Students are encouraged to come take what they need and leave what they don’t. With the cost of materials, it’s a kind concept. You took advantage of it more often than you liked. 

You gently unzip your leather artist’s bag while he begins the lesson. As he reads over the expectations in the syllabus, your eyes meet. He smiles and continues. You still, reluctant to distract him. 

“Last year, you would have gone over 2D concepts and techniques. This year, we will delve into 3D. Every two weeks, you will submit a project. Lessons are Tuesdays in the current slot, but the studio will be open daily for three hours after seven. Whether you work here or in your own space, I expect all work to be on time. Extensions will not be given outside extenuating circumstance.” 

His voice is rigid but you know well he isn’t as strict as he pretends to be. It’s the first day, he has to make a show. Still, you never submitted anything past the due date. Not in this class. 

“I am aware of your other classes and I have not set unrealistic goals alongside those. However, for those who have joined as elective students, you might want to make note of the withdrawal deadline,” he girds. “Now that we’re past the fear mongering, we will start the session. We’re starting standard. Clay. First assignment, molding and shaping, then we will delve into pottery. Basic, you’ll get deeper into techniques if you are enrolled in the subject course itself.” 

His tendency to overexplain can overwhelm but you are reassured by your first year. Rogers wasn’t the worst but he had standards. Besides, this is what you’re here for. This isn’t an elective, this is your major. You like this stuff and that makes it a little easier. 

You delve into the first week. After going through some foundational work, Rogers lets the room fall silent. Most students will have a degree of experience from high school or freshman classes. You aren’t entirely lost yourself. 

Professor Rogers makes a round of the room, stopping to chat with each student. You sense him coming close and knead your clay without much purpose. He stops across from you, just on the other side of the table. 

“You’re back?” He says. 

“Wouldn’t you know, I need more than one course for this dang degree,” you kid. 

“Really? Jeez.” He scoffs as he presses his fingertips to the table, “so, how was your summer? Did you go to the beach?” 

Your eyes flick up to his. You remember last year he wasn’t so... casual? You don’t know how to explain it. His hair is a little less neat and he doesn’t sport his usual button-up. You always made note of his expensive shirts and that he didn’t seem to care about the paint stains. This year, he’s in an open canvas jacket and a plain tee. 

“Yeah, but it was overcast. Didn’t feel like mixing that much grey,” you answer. “What about you? Good summer?” 

He shrugs and smiles. Something about it is stiff, “it was a summer. Taught a few interim classes. Nothing special.” 

“Oh, well, summer is overrated.” 

“Is it? Don’t tell me you’re into all that pumpkin spice?” He sniffs. 

“I’m more into winter. I love snow and hot chocolate. Simple tastes.” 

“Very minimalistic,” he praises. “Well,” he taps the table and drags his hands off, “welcome back.” 

“Thank you, Professor.” 

You refocus on the clay as you consider the various objects up for grabs. You could recreate the broken porcelain figure. It reminds you of ancient Greek ruins. Or you could go simple and claim that large silver spoon. Your indecision has always been your greatest obstacle. 

“Alright, so, from here on, you have the rest of the time to work. You’re welcome to pack up and do it in your own time but I highly recommend staying,” Rogers announces to the room. “I am here for your benefit.” 

The class murmurs back at him. Most keep on what they’re doing while a few fidget and wait only ten minutes before they leave. You would have done the same ten years ago but this isn’t just a checkbox on a list. This is you trying to reshape your whole life. You’re done with waitressing. You’re here to learn, to make this into something real. 

Besides, your roommate is a fan of metal music and it doesn’t do well for your creativity. You don’t hate the music but it’s just not the vibe. You press your fingers into the clay and stare off across the room. Your eyes haze as you fall into thought. 

Cerise texted before you got there that she wanted to meet up after and Primrose gave a staunch thumbs up. You missed them too. You can’t wait to catch up. You can only say so much over texts. 

You smile as you think of them. Your little ragtag trio. Cerise, the youngest, who always manages to get lost wherever she goes and Primrose who only ever knows exactly where she needs to be and what needs to be done. You’re the oldest, the maternal light that keeps the younger from wandering too far and the other from overthinking her coffee order. 

Your vision clears as you sense movement. You blink as you find yourself staring at Professor Rogers. Oops. You give a sheepish smile and put your head down. As much care as you put into others, you often forget yourself. While everyone assumes you have it all figured out, and you would think that you would at your age, you are just another student muddling through to graduation day. 

[summerwages]

frankly scarlet..

[signerjarts]

About Time and Snails