#hell as an ADULT id be a little mad

[kissingarthurclaus]

Also, in the Ziggy's birthday episode of Lazytown...I know Sportacus was just being thoughtful and wants Ziggy to be healthy and not have his teeth rot out of his head. But if I was a kid and an adult got me a TOOTHBRUSH as my birthday gift I'd be pretty fucking mad 😂😂😂

[miniwheat77]

Take it off. (Neighbor!Graves x Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, spanking, p in v sex, unprotected sex, bad parenting, blood, violence, MDNI!

He steps inside the police station. He sees you sitting in handcuffs at a desk. They’re obviously going over release paperwork. He shakes his head. “How can I help you?” A woman asks. “Uh. I’m here to pick up Y/N.” He nods to you. You hear his voice and don’t even acknowledge him. “Oh okay. She’ll be released in about 10 minutes when we’re done with paperwork. Are you a parent, guardian, or legal adult? She has to be released under those conditions.” She asks. “I’m her neighbor, her mom is out of town and she’s staying with me.” He nods. “Okay, do you have written permission from her mom or an ID?” He nods his head, following her to the desk. Once he’s got it all approved, he goes to sit by the door. He’s irritated. It’s late, he shouldn’t be here picking your ass up. If it weren’t for them he would’ve left you here until morning. Eventually, they walk you up front where he’s sitting. Uncuffing you and sending you over to him. He says nothing, just stands up and starts walking.

An eye roll is all Phillip gets from you when you get inside his car.

The only words out of his mouth so far are “we’ll talk later.” You don’t care. You can’t find it in you to care about what your stupid neighbor thinks of you.

Phillip knows that your mom doesn’t know what to do with you. She doesn’t believe in discipline for some reason. Probably because she wasn’t always around and wants to make up for it. But Phillip can’t take this anymore. He pulls off of the highway, down a dirt road. He can see the way you stiffen up. “Where are we going?”

He says nothing, just keeps driving.

Once he’s a ways off of the main road, where he knows no one will hear or see anything. He stops, throwing the truck into park. He sighs. “We’re not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on, because I’ve just about had it. You’re Eighteen now, you keep doing this shit and you’re going to land yourself in real Prison.” He groans. You scoff, reaching for the door handle. He’s quick, grasping your arm and holding onto you tight. “Ow! You’re hurting me!” You gasp. He reaches over you, locking the door. “I can promise you, if I wanted to hurt you, I would. Now listen to me.” He breathes. He tugs you into him. “No one else will say anything to you for some reason, but I’m done with it. You’re going to be staying with me and you’re gonna abide by my rules. Do you understand?” He breathes.

He can see the way your eyes darken. “Fuck you.” You growl.

He laughs, shaking his head. “Suit yourself sweetheart.” He sighs.

You don’t know what he’s going to do. But he’s mad. He’s pissed off, angrier than you’ve ever seen him. You can’t help but feel scared. Your tough act is faltering.

“Take your shirt off.”

Your blood runs cold. Hearing those words.

“What?”

“You heard what I said. Go on.” He nods. “No- no I’m not doing that-“

He grips your arm again. “Either you take it off, or I cut it off. Your choice.” You hear the sound of his pocket knife flicking open. The spring snaps and you jump.

“What are you doing?”

He leans into you, he’s still seething. “I’m going to show you what I do to bad girls.” He mumbles. Lips right against your ear. “Take it off.” He breathes.

Your hands start to shake, unsure of what exactly he’s going to do. So you do. You grasp the hem of it, yanking it over your head quickly. Somehow you think it will help. “Good girl. Now your pants.”

“Phillip please-“

“Ah!” He raises his hand to keep you from speaking. “I don’t want to hear it, take them off.”

Your heart is in your stomach. “I thought you were tough. Hm? I thought you didn’t say please or beg for anything?” He’s being harsh and he knows it. But he needs to teach you this lesson. He clutches your chin, forcing your head up to look at him.

“You keep putting yourself out there. Testing everyone’s patience and being a little brat. Not listening and talking back to people who are trying to help you. With no repercussions. But I’m not going to let you get away with it anymore. Now… Take. Them. Off.” He can see tears gathering in your waterline. They make your eyes shine, only now he can see right through your facade. The beautiful broken girl behind the tough exterior.

He knew he’d see it someday. It just sucks that it had to be like this.

You move a little slower to take them off. Sliding them down your hips and then your legs. Leaving them on the floorboard of his truck and hiding yourself. “What are you going to do?” You look up at him. He shakes his head. He reaches over you to unlock the door once more.

He climbs out of the truck, walking around to your side. He’s still pissed. He opens up your door, motioning for you to step out. You swallow hard but he’s helping you down, pulling your arm. Your feet hit the ground. You swallow hard, a gasp leaving your lips as he spins you around. He pushes you up against his truck. It’s cold. You breathe out. “You’re going to count for me.”

He breathes. You’re about to ask ‘what?’ But his hand clapping against your backside has you hissing out. “I said count.” He grasps a handful of your hair, tugging your head back. “One!” You gasp it out.

“That’s a good girl. Learning fast.” He growls.

Phillip shouldn’t be as hard as he is. He’s turned on, throbbing in his jeans over this. It’s pathetic.

His hand meets your ass again, and again. Until it’s raw and you’re crying. He’s impressed, you haven’t asked him to stop. You’ve accepted it.

“F-fifteen!” It’s the last one out of your mouth and he lets your hair go. You hang your head.

He presses himself up against you, breathing in the scent of your hair. “Get in the truck.” He growls. You obey immediately.

He walks around to the other side. Getting into the drivers seat. “Phillip?”

“Hm?”

“Can I put my c-clothes back on?” You look him in the eyes when you ask the question, and this is how he knows he’s gotten to you. “Yes. Good girl.” He waits for you to be dressed again. Seeing the way you wince when you put your jeans back on. He should’ve given you the proper aftercare but you had to wait for that. You had to show him that you could be a good girl.

The drive home is quiet. He’s surprised when he pulls into the driveway. You don’t jump out of the truck and rush to your house when he pulls in. You stay put, waiting for him to tell you when you could go.

You usually would challenge someone like Phillip. But you know he’s serious. And if what he did today was his first punishment, you’d hate to see what else he could do.

He tells you that he was serious. That you’d be staying with him for the time being and that he would show you up to his guest room. Once he shows it to you and gives you some time to settle in, he’s going to meet you up there but you don’t know it yet.

He looks through his bathroom, digging around for something soothing. He comes across some aloe, figuring it’s probably more soothing than any fragrant lotion laying around. He also grabs one of his t-shirts for you to sleep in. He makes his way upstairs. He doesn’t bother to knock, just walks right in. You’re lying on your side. Avoiding your sore backside. “Pants.” He nods. “Off.”

You stand up, tugging them down your legs quickly. “Lay on your stomach.” He nods to the bed. You do it immediately. He sets the shirt down in front of you. “That’s for you to sleep in.”

“Thank you.” He’s surprised how fast you are learning. He sits down beside you, squeezing some of the aloe vera gel into his hands and rubbing them together. You jump slightly when he presses it into your skin. He massages it into the sore, red skin. He can see you visibly relax.

He keeps adding more until the redness is gone. You’re still going to be sore for a while, maybe a day or two. But you’re far better than before. When he pulls his hands away, you hesitate. “You’re being a good girl. And I’m sorry for being so rough with you. But you have to understand that I won’t put up with your bad behavior anymore. I was mean, but I promise you I can be far worse. Be a good girl, and you and I will get along just fine. Do I make myself clear?”

You look him in the eyes. “Yes sir.”

“Good girl.”

He can see your eyes, there’s something different in them now. You’re no longer angry or hurt by his actions, he can tell by the way you’ve settled down. But there’s something else. He doesn’t catch it.

He says goodnight to you, leaving you alone in the room to think about the night you’ve just had.

And how you make a deal with yourself that you’ll never act like this around Phillip again. You don’t want to see this side of him again. Not ever.

For the next couple weeks, you’re good. You clean up after yourself. When you talk to Phillip it’s “no sir/yes sir.” That’s it. He’s broken the bad in you. The few times he catches you doing something you’re not supposed to, his punishments are just as bad but he hasn’t spanked you since that night after the police station. And you learn pretty quickly that he’s done messing around. You had to be good now.

But there’s something else, you’re acting far different from before. You’re eager to please him almost. He wonders if maybe he’d taken it too far.

He decides to approach you.

He lets himself into your room again, you greet him with a smile, immediately asking if he needs something done. He shakes his head. “Sit down, love.” You act fast.

He sits down next to you. “Listen. Maybe I was a little too rough on you before.” He mumbles. “I don’t need you to be my servant. Alright? You don’t have to ask permission for every little thing. I just need you to be a good girl. That’s all.” He breathes.

“Phillip..” you trail off, avoiding his gaze. You’re hiding something and he can see it in your eyes. “I thought I was doing good.”

“Of course you are, you’re doing a little too good.” He laughs.

You swallow hard. Your throat is dry. “Is there something going on?” He asks.

You look down. “Don’t lie to me.” He breathes. He rests his hand on your thigh, and can see the way you stiffen at his touch. You don’t seem scared?

“Phillip.. am..” you pause for a second, you’re avoiding the contact but your eyes trail to his as the words leave your lips. “Am I bad girl if I liked it?”

It takes him a second to realize exactly what it is that you’re talking about. He can’t help but laugh, completely shocked by just how much you’ve changed. “No.. no. It doesn’t make you a.. bad girl. If you were acting out on purpose to get punished, that would make you bad. But no.” He doesn’t know what to say. “Is that all?” He asks. You nod your head. He takes a deep breath. “You sure?”

“Yes sir.” You look up at him. Your eyes are shining. That gleam, it’s lust. He knows it now.

You liked when he spanked you. What kind of monster had he created?

Phillip wonders why you don’t seem to know what’s going on. You seem naive when it comes to this. He hesitates before he stands up. “Y/N. Have you ever had a boyfriend?” He asks. “No sir.” He nods his head. He fucked up. Bad. “Listen.. I need you to be good until your mom gets home. You don’t have to be my servant, just be normal alright?” You nod your head. You’ve still got that same look in your eyes, it feels like you’re eating him alive with your gaze and he feels like a creep for this. How could you feel this way when he’s done that to you? What was wrong with you?

She’s got no other authoritative person in her life idiot, you’re the first.

The voice in his head speaks for him and he starts to understand. But he couldn’t let this go any further than it already had. “We clear?” He asks. You nod your head. “Yes sir.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. It’s soft and it concerns him.

For the next few days, it’s normal. Except Phillip finds himself avoiding you. He doesn’t want this to go any further, so he avoids it entirely. When your mom comes home finally, he’s sending you back there and she’s surprised how well behaved you are. She talks to Phillip about how good he did with you, but the gaze you have on him just eats him alive. A couple days later, he notices he hasn’t seen your mom’s car in a while. He finds it odd.

He sees no activity coming from your house so he decides to watch for a little bit and he sees you going outside to do what you’re supposed to. Keeping the lawn nice, taking the trash out. He spots something off about you, you’re wearing different clothes than normal.

He sighs. He opens up his door, making his way across your yard as you rest on your knees on the ground. Planting flowers. “Hey.” He crosses his arms. “Hi.” Your voice is low. “Your mom leave again?” He asks. “Yeah. Her boyfriend is paying to fly her to Jamaica for the rest of the summer and their anniversary.” You explain. “Wait.. isn’t that a couple months away?” He asks. You nod your head. “Mhm. They’re gonna be gone a long time.”

He sighs. Phillip feels bad. Because you have no decent parent in your life. “Um.. well. Hey. I’ll be right next door if you need anything at all.”

He can’t see you, but your lips turn up in a smile. “Thanks Phillip. I’ll be alright though.”

“What uh.. what are you wearing?” He asks. The pleated skirt and ribbed tank top definitely doesn’t look like something he’s seen you in before. “Uh.. my mom said that it’s what girls my age should be wearing.” You sigh, standing up. You finally turn to look at him. “She doesn’t like my other clothes so she threw them out. When I got mad, we got into a fight and then she was gone the next day. This is what she left me with, this and a few other things.” You sigh. He nods. “I’m sorry to hear that.” You shrug. “Nothing I can do.”

“Why don’t you move out?”

“She takes my money.”

“What?”

You nod your head. “I had some money saved for a deposit on an apartment and she found out about it. Took the money and got me fired.”

“Why?”

“Because who will take care of the house for free while she’s gone if I’m not here?”

It suddenly makes sense to Phillip. The rebelling. The back talking and not doing what she asks of you. It makes sense now. He thinks to himself. “How about we make a deal hm?”

You tilt your head, your eyes travel to his jawline and there it is again. That same fucking look in your eyes.

“If you do some chores around my house I’ll pay you. And you can keep your money at my house so that she doesn’t find out about it. That goes for any other money you make too. Maybe I can help you find a job.” You smile. “You’d do that for me?” He nods his head. “Thank you Phillip.” You smile. “For now uh.. don’t do that.”

You look at him confused. “What?”

“Don’t do that for them. If they can’t include you in their lives, they don’t deserve someone who takes care of their house.”

“But..” you swallow hard. “But you said-“

He laughs. “Forget what I said alright? Fuck them.” You swallow hard. Turning to look away from him. You hadn’t heard anyone curse in weeks and hearing it from him seems to catch you off guard. “Why don’t you come over? I was watching a movie.”

“Uh.. sure. Let me change.” You mumble. He nods. You turn to walk away and so does he.

He can’t help but to think to himself, how good you look on your knees.

He has to shake himself out of his thoughts, he shouldn’t be feeling this way and he knew it would happen if he didn’t keep his distance from you. He can’t deny it. You’re such a pretty girl and you’re so sweet too. It’s a curse really. Or maybe a blessing in disguise. He tries not to think too hard on it.

———

He gives you a few chores around his house to start and is surprised by how quickly you finish it. And you do a really good job too. It’s got to be from all of the times your mom had left you alone to do chores around her house. It makes him wonder how long you’d put up with it before you finally started rebelling and he wonders if he was too hard on you before.

You started spending a lot of time around his house when he’s home. He gets used to your presence.

The two of you were watching a movie, he’d fallen asleep.

He hears a loud bang, followed by a car alarm. He jolts awake, looking around. He doesn’t see you anywhere. He hears another crash, this time it sounds like glass shattering. He makes his way up to a window and freezes when he sees your mom holding a baseball bat.

He rushes to the door, opening it and stepping outside. “What the hell is going on!” He calls out. She ignores him, continuing to destroy anything in her path.

He felt like he’d gotten rather close to your mom, despite recently finding out how vile she could be. But she doesn’t stop, so he passes by. He walks inside your house, seeing your step-dad sitting in the living room. He doesn’t care about him either, rushing to find you. The house is torn apart and Phillip steps on glass as he makes his way through. He’s thankful he still had shoes on.

He sees your bedroom is empty but the bathroom near it is closed and locked, the light is on. He knocks but no one answers. “Y/N?”

“Phillip?” He hears you sniffle. “Yeah it’s me, what’s going on darling? Open the door.” He asks.

You open it immediately, throwing yourself into him. “Woah- hey.” You let out a sob, wrapping your arms around his neck. He steps into the bathroom with you, closing the door behind himself and locking it. He kneels down, setting you back down. He closes the lid to the toilet and has you sit down. Only now he sees that you’ve got blood all over your face and hands. “Y/N, you need to tell me what’s going on. Calm down.”

You hiccup, taking in a deep breath. “S-she- they came home when we were watching a movie so I went out to greet them. I didn’t understand why they were home. She yelled at me for not keeping up on the lawn and the house, so I went to bed as normal but I woke up to them fighting…“ you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “He hit her so I tried to get between them and he broke a bottle over my head.”

Phillip is furious.

You take in another deep breath, tears spilling over your eyes. “My mom got mad too. That’s when she grabbed the bat.”

He sighs. “Just.. I’m going to walk you to the front door, when we get there, you’re going to run to my house and lock the door and go to my room okay? You don’t let anyone in but me.” He holds your hands as he says it. You nod your head. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl. Come on.”

He opens up the door, holding you behind him. He doesn’t hear anything. He leads you out, passing by your step dad who was still sitting on the couch. When you get to the front door, he nudges you forward and you dash to his house. He makes sure you make it before turning around. “What are you doing here? This is none of your business.”

Your mom startles him.

He swallows hard, gritting his teeth. “I’m afraid since this involves Y/N, it is my business. Considering I’ve had to parent her more than you in the last few months.” He reaches forward, snatching the bat from her hands. “Go.” He growls. She walks inside the house. “You know. I’ve seen horrible people before. I have. But you really set the bar on that one. You people are the most horrid, the worst. You’re so cruel to her for no reason and you won’t even let her leave. And you? Breaking a bottle over her head. And you doing nothing about it?” Phillip shakes his head. The two say nothing.

“I have enough standing in the military to disappear you. To wipe the traces of you both clean off the map. So you?” He points to your mom. “Go. And don’t ever look back. If I so much as hear your name, I will come looking.”

She swallows hard, standing up. “Go!” He growls. She hurries to the door.

“What about me, hm?” He stands up.

“You’re going to pay for hurting her.”

———

Phillip walks back across the lawn to his house. Knocking at the door. It takes a while before he hears your footsteps. Just barely since you’re trying to be quiet. “It’s me Y/N.” He mumbles.

You open the door right up, eyes widening when you see him. “What happened?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it okay?”

You look up at him, eyes wide. He’s got blood all over his hands.

“Come on, I’ve got to take a look at your head.” He takes your hand, leading you into his bathroom. He flicks the light on. You’ve got a few gashes across your head. Nothing too bad luckily. He helps you clean them up the best he can.

He cleans the blood off of himself. He’s only got a couple cuts and bruises. He’s gotten away luckier than you. “I’m sorry he did that to you.” He’s leaning up against his kitchen counter, beer in hand. You’re sitting at his table. Leaning back. “It’s okay, I’ve been through worse.” You mumble. “What will I do now? Do you think she’s gone for good?” You look at him.

“I think so. But… you’ll do what you usually do.” He takes a swig of his beer.

“You’ll just stay with me.”

You nod your head. “I’m sorry that you’ve pretty much had to parent me. It’s not your job.”

He laughs. “No, you’re right. It’s not my job. However, you wouldn’t be here if I didn’t mind.” He smiles. You look down.

“Do you think she’ll always be that way?” You ask.

He sighs. “Maybe not forever but for a long time. People don’t usually change. Not until their life is almost over and then they start to regret it. But.. you and I will get this figured out. I’ll get you set up and taken care of.” He nods.

“Thank you Phillip.” He smiles.

The house your mom and stepdad had was nice. Since he’d given your stepdad the beating of a lifetime, getting it into his name was easy. He fixed a couple small things here or there and had it up for sale within a couple weeks.

All of the money from the house he put into an account for you. You were completely surprised when he’d given you the account information and put your name on the account.

“Should be more than enough for a place of your own and some to live on until you figure out what you want to do.”

You’re scared.

You’ve never done any of this before and now you have to figure it out all on your own with no parents to help you. And Phillip has made it very clear that he’s only temporary.

You grow distant from him and he notices it.

You find a job and start working more. Phillip thought he’d be okay with it.

But he actually hates it.

He wanted to keep away from you. Keep those sick thoughts of touching you out of his head but he just can’t help it and he knows he’s hurting you by how distant you’ve grown and if he doesn’t fix this, he’s going to fuck it up for good.

You creep in late, not expecting him to still be awake. When you close the door behind yourself, he flicks the light on, startling you.

“Jesus.” You mumble.

He smiles, beer in hand. “Caught ya this time darling. Sit down.” He mumbles.

You do, you’ve always listened so good to him.

“How are you doing? You live here and yet I feel like I hardly hear from you.” He laughs. “Just.. working and stuff. Apartment hunting.” You mumble. You’re avoiding his eye contact like it’s the plague.

“Yeah?” He laughs.

He stands up from his chair, setting his beer down on the coffee table and moving to sit next to you. He was acting weird.

“You don’t have to be in that big of a hurry, you know.” He sets his arm behind you on the back of the couch. “I know.. I’ve just already taken up so much of your time.” You mumble.

He smiles. “Believe me, if you weren’t here, I’d be bored out of my mind.” He laughs. You smile but he can see how distant you’ve grown.

“You know.. I uh.. I’ve been thinking.” He mumbles.

You turn to look at him, blinking when you realize just how close he is to you. He turns himself, left arm over the couch still, right hand resting on your thigh.

Why the hell is he so close to you?

He slides his hand further up your thigh, hearing the breath you let out as he pushes it.

“W-what are doing?” You look at him.

He’s leaning into you, eyes dark. His lips just barely brush over yours.

You slide away from him, standing up. You take him off guard. “No offense Phillip, but I can smell the beer on you from here. Okay? I think you’ve had too much to drink.” You breathe. Your voice is unsteady, something he’s never heard before. You sound so unsure. Before he has any time to explain himself, you rush to the guest room.

He sighs to himself.

Shit.

He follows after you, grasping the door handle but you’ve locked the door.

“Y/N, open the door.”

You stand up, backing yourself into a wall on the opposite side. “No Phillip, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” You breathe.

“Y/N.” He takes in a deep breath. “You don’t want to make me mad.”

“Please- I don’t want to open it. You’re scaring me.”

He swallows hard, stepping back.

“I.. I wasn’t trying scare you, love.” You can see that he’s back tracking.

“I can see how distant you’re getting from me already and I hate it, you know. I feel selfish for but I want you to stay here.”

You stay quiet.

“Feel like I’m talking to a door here.” He laughs.

You open it, catching him off guard.

You step back when he comes in. “Why do you want me to stay?” You ask.

“I like having you around, you know? You’re a sweet girl and when you’re around it’s like you’re not even here. You’re quiet and sweet.” He breathes. “And by the way, I’ve had 2 beers. Not even buzzed.” He laughs. You swallow hard.

“S-so.. out there. What were you…” you look up at him. He laughs, looking down. “Well. I was going to kiss you. But you panicked a little bit.” He smirks.

You’re stunned.

Staring back at him in complete disbelief because Phillip had made it so clear that he was not interested in you like that in any way.

He moves closer, pushing your hair back out of your face. “Would you be okay with that? If I kissed you?” He asks.

You look up at him. Nodding your head.

So he does. He grips your throat and holds you in place as he presses his lips to yours. You gasp when he steps closer, his body presses up against yours. He deepens the kiss, teeth knocking into yours with how hard he kisses you and before you have a moment to react, he’s backing you into the bed. He breaks apart from you only to let you fall back into it.

“Shit.” He hisses, gripping his cock through his jeans. He’s turned on.

“I want to take this further but I want you to be comfortable.” He groans. “I’m.. I’m fine Phillip.” You breathe. He takes a deep breath, thinking about his next move and what it will be.

Are you ready for this? To take him?

Do you even know what Phillip is capable of? The things that he’s done?

Of course you don’t. And he’s not going to tell you, because you aren’t ready just yet.

“Take your shirt off.” The words leave his lips before he realizes it.

You do it, no hesitation. Because you listen to him. Out of respect or fear, he doesn’t know.

His lips are pursed together, he’s deep in thought as he draws his fingertips over yours stomach. Back and forth over your belly button. Phillip is going to lose himself in you, how has he allowed this to happen? He told himself he wouldn’t.

The look in your eyes as you stare up at him is what eggs him on.

He traces your stomach, down to the waistband of your pants. He pops open the button with one hand and helps you remove them. When you’re completely exposed to him, you’re nervous. You’d only been exposed like this once before and he’d hurt you.

His touches are gentle and quick. Merely traces as he decides his next step.

He stands up away from the bed, grasping his own shirt and sliding it over his head. His stomach is toned, he’s very fit. You tear your eyes away from him and he smiles. You’re overwhelmed already.

He works at his own jeans to remove them and when they’re off, he’s left in boxers. He slides them down, seeing the way your eyes draw down his form. He’s well endowed and while you know exactly what’s to come, you can’t help but be nervous. Your breaths are unsteady, you’re clearly nervous and he can sense it. He moves himself over the top of you. “It’s okay. You can trust me.”

Can I?

“Yes. Of course you can.”

You didn’t mean to say that out loud, shit.

He lowers himself to kiss you again, rocking himself into you. The only thing keeping him from you now is your panties. His bare cock brushes over your clothed opening, drawing a gasp from your lips. The feel of him alone was overwhelming. “It’s okay. Nothing to be nervous about.” He breathes. He rocks his hips into you, hearing you take in a sharp breath.

A wet patch starts to form on your panties and he knows what he’s doing is working. The more turned on you are, the more relaxed you’ll be.

He glides his fingertips over your shoulder and collarbones, pushing your hair off of your chest to expose your throat to him. He lowers his face into the crook of your neck, nudging your face to the side to kiss you. Teeth marking you as he grinds into you.

You feel like you’re about to explode when he tugs your panties to the side and sinks right inside of you.

He figures maybe the slow approach would hurt worse, at least the pain would last longer.

It pierces you.

The deep penetration not only catches you off guard but it hurts, it’s intense.

You cry out, and not a good one. He kisses you to silence you. Trying to soothe you as he takes no time to let you adjust. He draws back and pushes back inside, trying to even out the pain.

He finally stops, no longer moving to give you a moment to adjust.

He should’ve given you more time to change your mind but he couldn’t wait any longer.

You’ve calmed down, tear stains remain on your cheeks but they’re only watery now. He starts slow, just as before. Rocking his hips back and into you at the perfect pace to get you adjusted to him. When the pain subsides, it makes you realize just how full of him you were.

Just how much your body was taking.

A moan finally leaves your lips, realization hitting you like a ton of bricks and you wiggle out from under him slightly.

“Woah- hey. It’s alright.”

He tries to calm you. You’re panting, breathing hard. He’s raised himself off of you just slightly. Cock still partially buried into you. His body weight on you suddenly feels too much. Why is he doing this?

“Y/N.” He reaches out, drawing shapes with his fingertips into you once more.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask.

“Because.. I have feelings for you.”

You clench your eyes shut, moaning as he moves closer. Burying himself to the hilt once again.

“No you don’t, you never did before.” You close your eyes, whining as he draws back and thrusts back into you. “Yes I do.” He keeps a steady pace, talking you through it. It doesn’t feel good enough yet, you wouldn’t be able to form complete sentences like this if it were.

“I have from the beginning, I just knew it wasn’t right of me to do it. It’s still not. I just can’t take it anymore.” He breathes.

“I- oh god!” You cry, he feels really good all of a sudden.

“It’s okay. Look at me.” He forces your chin up, looking you deep in the eyes. “You’re distracting yourself from it. Don’t shy away now, let yourself feel it.”

Your eyes lower from his face to where the both of you connect. Where his cock glides out of you before he thrusts it back in. You’re shaking before you realize it.

Panting out his name, it feels good.

“That’s my girl.. doing so good for me now honey.” He breathes, moaning out. He’s trying to keep himself together but you’re tight on him. He slides so easily because you’re so wet. “You’re so good darling, so so good. Oh fuck-“ he nearly whimpers it. A side of him you hadn’t seen.

A side of him you want to see forever.

You’re getting close, you can tell by the uneasy feeling growing in your lower stomach, like butterflies but unstable. He picks up the pace, holding your hips down and taking deeper thrusts into you. “Phillip, I think I-“ your lips part in a gasp and he lowers his hand to rub your clit until you reach your peak around him. Your cries pierce his ears and he can’t contain his unsteady moans as he thrusts his hips into you, reaching that wall. His cock pulses with his orgasm, you can feel him cum inside of you, the pressure finally being released. Your eyes widen when you realize what he’s just done.

“It’s okay.” He breathes. “Nothing to worry about.”

He rests his head on your chest for a second, trying to regain composure.

He can’t believe how bad he’d lost it while inside you. When he’s come down from his high, he slides out of you, seeing you flinch.

“You alright?” He asks.

You nod your head. “Yeah. You just caught me off guard that’s all.” He laughs.

“It’ll be alright. But I’m serious. Stay here with me. Save your money for something else and stay.”

“But Phillip that’s not-“

He presses his finger to your lips. “I’m a lonely man, you won’t leave me here all alone will you?” He smiles.

You smile. “Alright, fine. I’ll stay.”

[winderlylandchime]

Hello! So to recap my day: took the dude to the doctor. He in all seriousness during HIS OWN IMPORTANT CHECK UP, asked the doctor about testicular cancer and what can happen to a person. The doctor obviously got a bit worried and started checking his test results thinking he missed something. My brother continued to ask questions about it, such as ‘how can chemo affect sex? Is chemo or radiation the same for testicular cancer as it is for other cancers?’ And so on. I am trying to intervene to stop this madness and my brother talks over me so it’s as if im not even in the room. And mid questioning, the doctor is going through the test results looking kinda more and more worried until you could actually see a lightbulb go off and he just stopped dead in his tracks and went ‘(his name), please for the love of god, tell me that this is NOT about that guy from the tv show and that you have a legitimate reason as to why you’re asking me this’ And this idiot goes ‘okay, sure…but i think we both know the truth.’ The doctor got a little angry at him and had to explain that his check up is real life and Brian’s cancer is fake and my brother actually fucking gasped! Hand on his fucking chest! And went ‘well its real to me, it literally just happened!….hey did i tell you, I got a cat named Brian?’ Then he started showing pictures of Brian the cat to the nurses and the doctor had to bribe him with a coffee (for the next check up) if he focused on and i quote ‘himself and not a version of brian human OR feline’ also keep in mind, he is wearing his Team Brian shirt while all this is happening.

ANYWAY, then we got to the vet. And for some reason i thought he got all his weird energy out of him. Wrong. We walked in and he was holding the fucking cat like a baby. Mind you he IS STILL WEARING THE FUCKING SHIRT. He explains he is there to get any type of papers he would need and shots and all that for his new cat. I’m thinking wow look at him actually acting like an adult. Just to set the scene: it’s a waiting room with a counter and there were 3 people behind it, two are standing behind the receptionist (one was the vet and the other vet tech). And theyre like helping her with the cats file she’s putting together. She asks for his info and is writing it down and then she goes ‘and the cat’s name?’ And he looks at them (while he is holding the cat like a baby) and goes ‘this sweet little baby here, is Brian’ and they all look down at the file and she goes ‘…Brian. Okay’ and then they all stop and just slowly look up and look at his shirt and he’s confused and looks down and goes ‘oh no, that’s a different Brian. *long pause* he’s also a sweet little baby…except when he’s a dick’ And I’m dying inside but i think we can all tell by now I’ve experienced worse with him. So the vet asks to go with him and we’re in his office and he casually points to the shirt while checking the cat and goes ‘so who’s that Brian?’ This man went ‘okay so. My Brian is named after my other Brian’ and the vet tech nicely goes (thinking she’s dealing with a normal person) ‘oh so is that your boyfriend?’ and he goes ‘ha, i wish. No, it’s a tv character..besides he’s already taken so not like id have a shot’ and the vet tech clearly still trying to make conversation asks him ‘what tv character is that?’ And then all hell broke loose. It was like a kid in a candy store that was on speed. In a span of 5-10 minutes, he managed to tell the entire plot of season 1-3. And then he finished it off with ‘now I’m on season 4. They just broke up…again. AND HE HAS CANCER! On his balls! That’s just cruel. And now he’s all sick and Justin is gone and I am so so so scared. Thank god, i have my other Brian’ and then the receptionist walks in with papers and no knowledge what all happened and goes ‘so Brian is now all yours to take home’ and the fucking vet goes ‘i bet you wish she was talking about the other one, huh?’ And then when we got home, he called our parents on zoom to introduce the cat and that’s also a whole other story.

Dear sweet anon! I had a few minutes between meetings today and read these messages and showed up to a meeting where I'm the boss completely laughing and with tears streaming down my face.

Your brother is doing research about testicular cancer with his actual doctor. I'm dying. This is some fanfic prep he's doing. (Also, can we discuss Brian's death wish for a cancer with a 99% survival rate? And he calls Justin dramatic!)

‘oh so is that your boyfriend?’ and he goes ‘ha, i wish. No, it’s a tv character..besides he’s already taken so not like id have a shot’

DEAD. He, too, has a crush on Gale. Lesbians and straight men, I guess!

[aamethyst000]

Dude, im so bored but lazy (may 14,24 3:58pm)

holy hell, i could not get to sleep last night. i was tossing and turning, too cold then too warm. could not get comfy for the life of me. there was an itchy spot in my throat that would not go away, even after drinking half a cup of water. i was so irritated the majority of the night. i think i actually fell asleep at like 6am this morning, finally woke up at ten to two this afternoon. like what the hell, was it because i missed a a whole week of my anti depressants? probably. mostlikey. anyway. it was so irritating that i was debating whether or not i should even get up, just sleep some more. my body made the decision for me, i couldnt go back to sleep even if i tried. so, i got up, took the dogs out and made a pot of coffee. im not going to lie, even through all of that, i currently feel neutral about having a hard time sleeping last night. usually, id be in a bad mood throughout the day but nope, just neutral. no irritation or happiness. that normal? not that id know. me and the family tend to have shit sleep schedule. especially me and the cousins. it makes meeting up with them difficult for the both of us lol as irritating as it is, i think i should stop getting mad at that. they work and have a family now, so yeah priorities are all jumbled which is okay. mine arent set in stone either lmao i dont know how my older cousins did it, learning how to be a functional adult, taking care of your body more, eating healthier and whatnot. im bloody 25, going to be turning 26 in june and i still feel like im 16-17. is that normal as well? does it depend on the individual? i keep saying i should talk to my thereapist but i never call them. or even message them. summer's coming up so i think thattl be the best time for me to start up my thereapy sessions again. i dont even want to do my laundry, how lazy im feeling, like i know i have to get them done at some point before they pile up again but i just dont want to lol like those goddamn dishes i keep avoiding like the plaque. thats the only thing i dont like about adulthood. endless dishes, laundry and house cleaning every other week and every month. oh and the bloody over priced bills that we now have to pay. welp, onto my second cup of coffee and sit around in my room for a bit till i decide to write in my journal again. whenever that will be. typing on my keyboard seems to be stimulating for me, i almost dont want ot stop.could be old habit from being in highschool, writing a long ass page for my essay and presentaions (god i hated those with a fckn PASSION). being able to type now feels nice, i dont have to go on my phone to write my journal entries in now, i love it so much <3 anyway, back to laying about and being lazy :3

3:01am - it looks like that i wont get much sleep tonight again tonight. so im going to have a few puffins and watch some sherlock funny moments, or i just might play orcarina of time, the 3D version of it. to be honest, im on the lookout for almost every verion of sherlock holmes, in books, tv shows, and movies. i think im becoming obsessed lol not that i mind it. im living vicariously through either sherlock or john. i think mostly john lmao i dont think i can be that brilliant at solving crimes and puzzles. heck i can barely solve a fckn math problem without having a breakdown mid way through the paper, thank god i graduated. i will not have to go through that again, unless i get back into coding. which i do not think so, considering that it involves aboslute complicated M A T H. i despise math, if you couldnt tell lmao any who, i think i am done here, i just wanted to come back and finish the last little bit of my journal entry, i may add on to this tomorrow. i havent decided on that just yet. like i keep sayin, i really like typing on my keyboard lol i might get over this later on in my life, just not now. cause my god, it is very stimulating to type~ have a good night/day, my fellow readers~

may 16,24 12:36pm - so i decided to add more to this journal entry, i dont know how much right now but maybe ill decide later on or once i am done writing. today was weird. i woke up late again, at one thirty this time and my mood was okay, manageable. until i went to go eat at like 6pm (first meal) and also cook my mother lunch. at first, i only felt over heated. then i started getting a small pinch like cramp on the right side of my hip, then, i felt more over heated. i was sweating, i felt like i couldnt breathe, my appetite dropped but i forced myself to eat anyway (for obvious reasons), i came back to my room to open my window, take off my shirt and see if that helps me cool off. mind you, that took forever, like, to the point of the voices in my head getting louder and mean. i tried so hard to ignore it that i even whisperd shut up. obviously that didnt help, considering that i started crying afterwards. i think i remember seeing clear images in my head too, pictures of horrible things, for sure, but that was the first time in a long time that has ever happened. not since my very last anxiety attack. that was nearly 3 yeaars ago now, even i thought i was getting better, this feels like i took a couple steps backwards. which did not help with my breakdown. im not going to go into too much detail about what i went through today. just know that this one breakdown took a lot out of me. i almost wanted to ioslate myself the rest of the evening. i didnt, that would have raised way more human interactions than i personally wanted, so i tried to act like i was "normal" i never knew what that really, genuinly looked like so i dont know if i did well in that department. anyway, i marked this event down in my personal journal for my therapist to read over. hopefully that can help me figure out what method could work for me in the future. i get the feeling ill end up sleeping in tomorrow too. because of today, that is all i want to do. is just sleep. its the middle of the week though, got dishes to wash, dinner to prep and an appointment to make later on. i wihs i can take off from here for a week. maybe even 3 months would be fine. go to a cabin in the woods, smoke, read, watch movies, not have to worry about other peoples dishes other than my own, not have to worry about what conversations i have to prepare myself for, how muc enerygy i have to use up even though i do not have enough throughout the day. i just want a break from being an adult. anyway i think that is enough for the night so im going to sign off and rest as much i can. cause that felt like a lot. good night/day, readers

[anika-ann]

One Door Closes... (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, pretty much canon

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 2700

Summary: For Steve, your door is always open... or he thinks so. And even when it isn’t, it is.

In which one small Zoom mishap leads to an (un)usual ‘welcome home’.  

Warnings: brief mention of blood and violence, lightest angst, attempt at humour, crack-ish, fluff and language

A/N: For @anjali750, because this is totally her fault. Thank you for inspiring me :-* Have a little bit silly weekend reading, y’all!

“Tell me about it,” Steve encouraged you gently, soft smile playing in the corner of his mouth despite the pain it must be causing him due to his busted lip.

You couldn’t but grin at the lenient picture he made. Feeling blood rush to your cheeks at the thought of him probably calling you cute in his mind if his expression was anything to go by, you obliged, proceeding to tell him about the new project at work.

Your project. Because somehow, you finally earned your boss’ confidence and could bring the great ideas in your mind to life.

You felt so giddy just talking about it! So you started explaining, excitedly gesturing with your hands so Steve would get the right visual and you grew so enthusiastic that you almost forgot to keep an eye on him.

But you were watching him – always.

His lower lip was split, but already healing – it would have healed much faster if he stopped tugging at the healing skin whenever he talked or smiled at you from the screen. He looked a little drowsy, a shadow of a bruise forming on his cheek, but as far as you knew, those were the only injuries he had; that and many hours of sleep to catch up on.

Steve had a habit of calling you via Zoom whenever he got back to the Tower from a mission. He usually took a quick shower and was online until the last second before he had to leave for a debriefing; the only reason why he didn’t head straight to your place.

He admitted once that he loved seeing your face and talking to you even if for a moment after a mission, that it grounded him. On a very sappy and loveable moment, he even called you his sun; and the fact that after few minutes of being with you – as much as technology allowed – his face always seemed brighter, made you think that it truly was how he felt.

Even exhausted as he was now, you could tell his half-lidded eyes shined with life unlike when you started the call.

And so you kept rambling, feeling your heart bursting with love for your man and with euphoria, because goddammit, finally some recognition at work!

“Well, obviously, to reach as much general public as we can, we’re gonna launch a world-wide campaign! World-wide!” you emphasized with a blinding grin, throwing your hands wide to demonstrate.

---and your fingers caught in a cord from the laptop, pulling at it.

Steve’s benevolent face disappeared as your screen went black.

Because of course it did.

You had been talking yourself into buying a new laptop or at least having this one fixed for a few weeks now, because this was always the result whenever you accidently unplugged it. The battery was useless, ready to retire.

“Motherfu--- ugh!“

You wanted to be mad at the device – but this was totally on you.

Sighing, you hooked up the laptop again, waiting for it to wake up from a coma, shooting Steve an apologetic text in the meantime. Closing your eyes, you let your forehead lightly fall against your desk, mentally cursing yourself.

Dummy. If you only weren’t so lazy… and didn’t hate certain aspects of adulting with so much passion… you could have been talking to Steve-

Your eyes flew opened when it felt like it was quiet for too long; no reply to your text. Dread filled you and you quickly reached for your phone again, this time to dial.

You prayed you were wrong; but as the phone kept ringing with no one to answer it on the other end, you felt misery creep up you back and whimpered. Sliding your phone on the tabletop, your not-so-deft fingers stumbled over the keyboard, harshly welcoming it into the world of living by opening Zoom again to reconnect the call.

Your breath hitched in anticipation as the window opened---

An amused and yet somehow unimpressed face of Natasha Romanoff welcomed you and this time, you didn’t bother slowing down as your head hit the desk. It hurt, but that was only a presage of the real pain.

“Nooooooo,” you whined loudly, faking and not quite faking a sob, because shit.

“Oh yes,” Natasha hummed nonchalantly.

You straightened a bit in your chair, narrowing your eyes at her as you noticed the corners of her lips twitching while she pretended to be busy checking out her possibly-mission-broken nails.

“It’s not funny.”

She snorted and glanced at your no doubt desperate face.

“It really is. But also kinda sad,” the spy noted, something resembling concern flickering over her face before she scrunched her nose, irises twinkling. “And disgustingly cute. It has Rogers written all over it.”

You glared at her some more, not even bothering to roll your eyes.

“Tell that to my landlord,” you muttered under your breath, leaning your elbow on the tabletop and dropping your chin to you palm. A second later, a brilliant idea hit you and you tried to manipulate your legs from under you.

The thing was, even if you had a pretty good idea of what was coming if you didn’t stop it and knew that it would be a bitch to deal with, Natasha was right.

In a way, it was utterly cute, disarmingly charming and entirely heart-warming. Your stomach fluttered, the fabled butterflies flipping their wings, your face grew hot and your heart… well, it felt as if it was growing in size.

It was also sad, heart-breaking even; Steve, especially after a mission, was a man running on instincts. It was one of the reasons why he had developed a habit of calling you, why he wanted to hear you ramble about your either boring or exciting but always wonderfully normal day. A day which involved no shooting and no blood besides papercuts and a quarrel with your stubborn boss who shoot you glares at best.

On a mission, these carnal automatisms often meant survival. But back home, Steve didn’t want to be a sum of instincts of survival, fight and fear; he wanted to feel again. And with you, he did. He wasn’t just a Captain America, a soldier to be put on battlefield whenever the general found fit. He was a human being. A wonderful one at that, with beautiful soul.  

So yes. It was also rather upsetting.

And in a way, it was a little funny too. You knew it was totally your fault and that Steve was being kinda ridiculous, because he knew you and your inclination to wild gesticulations ending up catastrophically. On top of that, he was aware of this particular problem being almost a daily occurrence; hell, he tried to talk you into having Stark look at your laptop and failed.

And now... well. Here you were.

“You know, maybe if you get up and welcome him with door opened…” Natasha teased you with your own genius ides and you grinded your teeth, frantically trying to move your foot, which was pretty much on fire and yet dead.

“I would, but I… eh, pins and needles, was sitting on my feet,” you explained, embarrassed, testing whether your feet could carry you or not, naturally finding that without support, you’d be down before you could take as much as a step.

This time, Natasha didn’t snort in amusement.

Instead, she graced you with an outburst on honest full belly laughter, her red hair unfairly shiny for a woman who just spend week on a mission in damn Moldova and probably kicked more asses that you could imagine.

“You know what, Romanoff…” you grunted, forcing yourself to wobble towards the door. Very slowly. And cautiously. Knowing your luck, you might actually get hurt.

“I’m not even sorry,” she choked out and then continued to howl in laughter. “You so deserve each other. I finally know what the ‘idiots in love’ mean. Thanks for that!”

“You’re very welcome,” you huffed, voice dripping with irony.

Finally able to put full weight on both of your feet, you headed towards the exit – and entrance – of your apartment.

Halfway, you decided it was a lost cause. You would be willing to bet that the moment you’d touch the doorknob, you’d get hit to your face. It wasn’t worth it.

Yes, maybe if you did get hurt, it would make Steve think twice before coming all guns-and-shield blazing into your apartment; then again, it would probably cost you a broken nose.

Not to mention Steve’s tendency to get swallowed by the enormity of his guilt.

So not worth it. Best if you stayed put.

That was what you kept telling yourself when you stood there for about two minutes, in which you’d be able to open the door about forty times. Your annoyance – mostly with yourself and the cackling redhead – and the anticipation was becoming unbearable. As seconds ticked by, you were trying to convince yourself into taking the last few steps and opening the door and save yourself some trouble---

You yelped when the loud bang rattled your apartment the door sent flying of their hinges along with a spray of powered plaster despite knowing it was coming.

A glint of metal appeared next, the striking red, white and blue no longer there as it was covered in more bland colours for stealth missions.

And then a large figure cladded in blue shirt and grey jeans entered, his chest heaving, face flushed with red. Piercing blue eyes wiped of all previous traces of tiredness scanned the room, instantly falling on you as you awkwardly stood there, dumbfounded, startled and utterly speechless.

Also, much to Steve’s puzzlement, you were perfectly fine otherwise – even with both legs functioning, no remnants of pins and needles present.

Steve eased his posture instantly, eyes narrowing and then widening as he looked you up and down, lips parting in genuine surprise – and relief.

He said your name, clear and almost reverent, dropping the shield on the floor with a clang.

The ‘hi babe’ got stuck in your throat as you could see the tension leaving his shoulders, his eyes turning glassy and absent despite relief rolling off him in damn tsunami waves.

It hit you like a train – that you were delighted to see him, actually see him, even under these circumstances; and you truly didn’t want him to withdraw to some freaky brain-space after he had probably got one of the most ridiculous scares of his life due to the fact that his brain was not fully back in the normal world.

In the normal world where you abruptly disconnected a call without warning, because you talked too animatedly and not because some terrorist high on the FBI’s, CIA’s, NSA’s and SHIELD’s most wanted list found out you were Steve’s girlfriend and decided to take you out.

So to prevent another psychical horror trip of his, you went for distracting him – with a very relevant issue.

“You broke my door.”

Steve blinked, gaze refocusing on you fully, simply staring for a long moment.

“You went offline,” he objected quietly, a hint of accusation in his voice. God, you missed his voice.

“You broke my door, Steve.”

As if hearing his name was a spell, his frozen figure came to life and he took a cautious step closer, repeating his previous statement, this time with a hint of guilt.

“You went offline.”

“And you broke my door. That’s the second time this month, Steve! My landlords gonna k--- be real pissed at me,” you corrected yourself in the last second, not wanting say kill.

Steve ignored the slip and apparently got the message, his face twisting in genuine apology. “I’m sorry. I’ll fix it!”

With efficiency of a supersoldier, he spun on his heels and rushed to pick up the door as if it was lighter than a paperweight and swiftly put it in place.

Only for the door to slowly tilt his way again. He caught it with a loud curse and moved it aside, leaning it partly against the wall. The action sent more plaster down onto the floor, like the only truly white snow in New York City. Peripherally, you noticed Steve grimacing, his face an expression an epitome of yikes.

You let your eyes slipped shut, shaking your head with a sigh, but couldn’t but chuckle. When you looked at Steve again, he resembled a 240 pounds giant Labrador puppy, truly regretful, approaching you reluctantly as if he was afraid you would slap his big paws for being clumsy.

What he would deserve was for you to clip round his ear for impulsiveness, but could you blame him? God knew what he had seen in Moldova in the past week, what horrors he had lived through and what a nightmare his mind had created when you ‘went offline’.

Him barging in like this due to your own dumbassery was kinda sad; a prove of his demanding job full of terror.

It was cute and heart-warming, because he just cared for you that much.

It was a little ridiculous, because as Steve finally crossed the distance between you two, the head of your elderly neighbour peeked from behind the empty doorway, puzzled and rather concerned.

You snorted unattractively, the scene in front of you seeming epically hilarious all of sudden.

“I’m good, Mr. T!” you called over Steve’s shoulder after the poor man who gossiped like an old woman and was just as hospitable. “Just my boyfriend fussing because of a technology fail!”

A grin spread on his wrinkled face; a testimony to years of laughter and amiability. “Oh. Hi, Mr. America!”

“Afternoon, Mr. T! I am verry sorry for disturbing you.”

The older-looking man waved off Steve’s politeness.

“It’s fine. You keep taking care of your lady, Mr. America, and keep her safe!”

“Yes, sir,” Steve humoured him with a salute, earning a wink.

As your neighbour walked away with a fresh topic for his Sunday tea party, Steve turned his attention to you again, eyes searching, wide, apologetic – but also soft, taking in the view of you, revelling in it.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he whispered lowly, the lopsided smile you loved so much gracing his face, once again pulling at that damn split lip. You grimaced a bit, the sight of him almost brining tears into your eyes; the gentleness and the remnants of fight punching you straight in the gut.

His eyes fluttered close when you lifted your hand and traced the line of the bruise on his face with the lightest pressure you were capable of. This time, tears definitely prickled in your eyes, but you blinked them away, cupping Steve’s cheek and pulling him close.

“Oh come here, babe,” you breathed out, fingers carding through his hair as he leaned his head on your shoulder, lips brushing the crook of your neck, strong arms embracing around your form.

He was warm and big and held you a bit tighter than necessary and dammit, you loved your sweet of heart and occasionally dumb of ass boyfriend. Boyfriend, who was crazy in love with you. Sometimes with emphasis on the crazy.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” he muttered, nose nuzzling the sensitive skin of your neck, breathing in deeply. You pretended it didn’t do things to you as he did everything to get lost in you and leave all the bad behind. You failed.

“You’re totally paying for fixing my door.”

Well, maybe not failed entirely.

“Of course,” Steve assured you dutifully, no hint of humour in his voice.

It broke you on a completely new level; he was serious. Dammit you loved this man!

“I missed you too,” you finally admitted and this time, he did chuckle, squeezing you even tighter, hand running up and down your back. Without any warning, he tightened his grip and lifted you from the floor so you had to cling to him entirely, causing you to gasp.

You never got the chance to gather your wits and comment on that, because an annoyed voice of a certain redhead sounded from your laptop.

“…alright, you crazy kids, you had your cuddles. Now, Rogers, should I tell Fury you’re coming back for the debriefing or should we just finally change with the times and do it over Zoom?”

Clutching Steve’s waist and shoulder, face contentedly in his chest, you voted for the latter.

Steve Rogers masterlist

Lovely divider by whimsicalrogers​.

A fic from collection ‘This was supposed to be a drabble.’  Also, I couldn’t for the love of god figure out a better title.

I hope you enjoyed at least a bit :-*

Thank you for reading!

[postmoderntongues]

As an autistic with very strong sensory issues let me throw in my two cents. Hair growing in is a sensory nightmare, so if you've already started shaving, it feels like the lesser to two sensory evils, thats why men never talk about body hair giving them sensory problems, but ask them about their beards and they will say the same, if you arent going to grow it long then keeping up with shaving keeps it from becoming itchy. Long leg hair (body hair in general) is attached to a lot of nerve endings and can be painful when rubbed the wrong way by your jeans or pit hair snagging on a dress clip or pubes sticking to a maxi pad. My little sister used to rub her sneakers on my leg in the double stroller at the grocery store because the sensation of my leg hairs being pulled on sent me into a meltdown. If you shave, you avoid all of that.

I have not shaved in half a decade (including my face other than once at the barber when they cut it without asking). I am not pro-shaving, female body hair removal is bullshit invented to sell more razors because too many men died in the trenches of WW1 and razor companies started to market hairlessness toward women (which is mad weird because every adult mammal has body hair, am I trying to hide that im an adult or a mammal by removing it, what part of being an adult mammal is dirty or shameful?).

But if you've already shaved it is sensory hell to grow out. It itches like mad, it feels rough and stubbly, it rubs wrong on clothing easier. Once you've grown it for like 3 months- a year it becomes downy and soft and stops being a sensory nightmare and yeah once you get to that point theres no reason to cut it but 3 months of being itchy is a long time not to just break down and shave again. Not everybody can tolerate the sensation of hair growing in, even though it is less of a sensory invasion once it is fully grown in. I didn't used to shave because smooth legs felt good, I shaved because my legs were on fire from the sensation of the stubbly hairs rubbing the wrong way on my jeans.

I also didn't stop shaving as some grand feminist action, I was in the psych ward for a few months where my hair grew out and I wasn't trusted with sharps when I got out (If I wanted to shave id have to get a ride to my moms house, sign a razor out of her room where she keeps them if she knows im coming to the house, shave in full view of her so she can be sure im not cutting/"slipping" on purpose, and sign the razor back in) and once it got nice and soft I didn't feel any reason to remove it. And then I read about the history of female body hair removal and how it is capitalist bullshit so I never went back.

Ill never understand people who prefer their partner's business shaved. Like I appreciate a little manscaping, a little trim, I trim my bush on my period so it doesn't get stuck to my pad/because the sensation of bloody hair bothers me, but id never shave it bald. He shaved his bald once because he read online it would make it look bigger and I was just like "I can't blow you, I feel like im changing a diaper when I see your hairless dick" and we didnt have sex until it at least somewhat grew back in because the sight of a bald dick was so gross to me, why isnt bald pussy gross to men?

I cannot believe that anyone would have sensory issues so debilitating that they need to shave, but not so debilitating that they'll swipe a literal razor over their skin multiple times.

[jaehyunhour]

teenage dream | mark lee

genre + idol → fluff, smut, tiniest bit of angst if you squint, high school au, virgin!mark (x virgin fem!reader) [they’re both 18]

word count → 4.7k

warnings → alcohol consumption, unprotected sex (always wear a condom pls guys), tiniest bit of cursing

summary → mark lee moves to your hometown halfway through your sophomore year of high school, and once he arrives you quickly fall in love with both him and the town you grew to hate. after you graduate, mark has a surprise for you that may or may not include going across state lines, losing your virginity, and asking for your hand in marriage.

“Mark, you can’t leave me. You’re my soulmate.”

“If I could marry you tonight, I would.”

“You know... it’s only about a 5 hour drive to Vegas from here.”

a/n → i’ve been writing this fic for well over a month and it’s finally done!! this fic is purely self-indulgent because 1) i’m in love with mark lee and 2) i think of him every time i listen to teenage dream by katy perry... as always please let me know what you guys think of this one! i think this is one of my favorite fics i’ve written

Before you met Mark, life was bleak. That was the only way to describe it. Your life was monotone, shades of light blue and gray; your daily routine was the same, you walked through life as a zombie and hated everything about your hometown. But when Mark showed up halfway through your sophomore year of high school, when his family moved from Canada, everything changed. You got to show him the ins and outs of the city, turn him into a real native, and fall in love — both with your hometown, and with him.

You can still recall the first time you got to show Mark what it’s like to be a local. You went downtown, taking the light rail and getting off at each stop, enjoying what the city has to offer, before getting back on and staring out the window at the scenery. Mark’s hand rested in-between both of your thighs in an attempt to warm himself, while the other pressed onto the glass window of the light rail and tapped lightly. You pointed out the window at different buildings, telling Mark the story of your life in this little town, and he sat quietly and listened. His gaze lingered on the moving buildings as you spoke, and he immediately felt his entire body warm. This is when Mark knew you were special.

Your high school graduation was bittersweet. You were choosing to go to a college only thirty minutes away from your home because of your family, and Mark was on the waitlist for his dream college in Korea. After all the names were called, and all the caps thrown in the air, Mark wove his way through all of the graduates and straight to you. He picked you up in his arms, spun you around quickly, and set you down.

“We did it,” he said, eyes wide and smile bright. He placed his hands on your face and squished your cheeks before pulling you into another hug. “I have something to tell you.”

“I can’t believe we graduated. Tell me,” you responded.

“I got off the waitlist.”

You let out a scream, pulling back from Mark and hitting him on the chest. “Oh my god, Mark! Holy shit, that’s incredible. So you’re going to Korea? W-when do you leave?” Your stomach drops at the realization that Mark will be going to an entirely different country soon, meanwhile you have to stay in a town that you love only because he’s in it. It’s not the same without him.

“I don’t leave until the beginning of September.”

“So you’ll get to move me into my dorm before you leave?”

“You think I would leave without seeing where you’re going to be living? I need to make sure that you’re being well taken care of in my absence. You know I’m kidnapping you and taking you with me to Korea if I don’t like the dorm, right?”

“I expect absolutely nothing less,” you said, both you and Mark’s families rushing up to you on the football field to congratulate you. Your families forced you to pose for photos, talked amongst themselves about your college plans, and made plans to throw you two a joint graduation party.

Two weeks after graduation, you’re laying down on the trampoline in your backyard as the sun is setting. It’s a Thursday night, your parents are out of town for the weekend and have left you home alone. You could throw a huge party, celebrate the end of senior year, but instead you choose to enjoy the alone time in your childhood home before you move out. You stare at the moving clouds, your chest sitting on your phone as you talk to Mark who’s currently driving.

“You know, I’m kinda mad that your parents still won’t let you come spend the night at my house. We’re 18! We’re adults,” you say.

Mark lets out a laugh. “My parents are scared that if they let me spend the night at your house that I’ll do drugs, join a gang, and get you pregnant all in one night.”

“Do I really give that vibe off? I thought your parents liked me! We’ve been inseparable for well over 2 years now.”

“They love you, you know that. You’re home, right?”

“Yuuuup,” you say, standing up quickly and jumping a few times on the trampoline. He can hear the creaking of the trampoline and whines.

“No fairrrrr, you’re jumping without me!” Mark says. You hear Mark close the door to his car and lock it. Before you can ask him where he’s headed, he walks through the front door of your house, through the living room, and out into the backyard. Mark hangs up the call, before jumping onto the trampoline with you. 

You get back down onto your back on the trampoline, grabbing at Mark’s leg and trying to pull him down with you. He lays next to you, rolling over so half of his body is on top of yours. He nuzzles his head into your chest and lets out a content sigh.

“You should really keep the doors locked when you’re home alone. What are your plans for tonight?” He asks.

“Mmm, probably watch a movie and eat something. I might raid my mom’s wine cabinet and finish a whole bottle by myself.”

“Woooow, look at you breaking the rules. Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?”

“I’m just trying to enjoy myself before college!”

“Look at what I got today,” Mark says, flopping onto his back and pulling an ID out of his pocket. He hands it to you and you inspect it carefully.

“This is a Korean ID,” you start. “Aaaand, it doesn’t even have your name.”

“Yeah! It’s a fake ID. Says I’m 21.”

“Why’d you pick Kim Soohyun for your name? And why do you need a fake ID? You’re legal in Korea, you can drink.”

“My mom says Kim Soohyun is my long lost brother, I thought it would be funny. I got it for tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yep,” Mark says, plucking the ID out of your hands and shoving it back into his pocket. “Go pack a bag, we’re going on a road trip.”

“Where to?”

“It’s a secret, but it’s somewhere you’ve always wanted to go.” Mark lays on his side, and you can feel him staring at you. You turn onto your side to look at him. “Can you close your eyes for a second?”

You nod and close your eyes. Your heart begins beating faster and your breathing is labored. Before you can ask Mark what game he’s playing at, you feel Mark’s lips on yours. You gasp, returning his kiss, and he slips his tongue into your mouth. It’s not your first time kissing someone like this, but it’s definitely his and you can tell. His tongue peruses the inside of your mouth, and his lips are pressed firmly against yours. You try to push your tongue into his mouth in an attempt to control the kiss, but to no avail. Mark pulls back to catch his breath, and his eyes meet yours.

“You’re bad at that,” you whisper, letting out a giggle.

“Yeah, I thought I might be,” Mark says with a sigh.

“You’ll get better at it. W-we can practice,” you say, pecking his lips. “I’ll go pack a bag.”

Thirty minutes later, you’re sitting in the passenger’s seat of Mark’s car, watching him as he drives. His hands rest perfectly at 10 and 2, his lips pouting, and he watches the road ahead intensely. 

“You should probably sleep, it’s going to be a while before we get there.”

“How long?” you ask. You recline the seat and lay back, extending your hand out to rest on Mark’s thigh. “Hold my hand.”

One of his hands leaves the steering wheel and he intertwines your fingers with his. “About 16 hours? Just sleep, I’ll wake you up in like 8 hours so you can switch with me.” You nod, closing your eyes and willing yourself to go to sleep. 

You’re not sure how long you sleep, but when you wake up, Mark’s hand is still holding yours. The sun is shining through the windshield and you look over at Mark, who is also sleeping. You’re parked next to a gas station in what feels like the middle of nowhere. You check your phone: 8:35 a.m.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan, causing Mark to stir. You tear your hand away from his, shifting the seat up and pushing Mark to wake up. “Mark, get up.”

He groans too before sitting back up. “I just fell asleep.”

“Why did you let me sleep for so long? You drove for 12 straight hours! I’m going to go inside the gas station and buy some coffee, then I’ll drive the rest of the way. You can sleep until we get to wherever the hell you’re taking me.”

Mark tries to sleep for the remaining four hours of your drive, but he’s too excited to be able to sleep. Instead, he watches you drive and smiles proudly. Mark has always thought you are so beautiful, even in your current state — no makeup, hair messy from sleeping in the car, and bags underneath your eyes. He leans over and presses a rough kiss to your cheek before laying back down. 

“What’s gotten into you?”

“What do you mean?”

“This isn’t like you. Yesterday before we left you practically shoved your tongue down my throat, and now you’re forcing me on a road trip. You’re not normally like this.”

“I just… I realized that I wasted so much time not doing the things I want to do with you, and I would’ve hated myself forever if I didn’t do it before I left to Korea.”

“You would’ve hated yourself forever if you didn’t make out with your best friend and force her to drive around before leaving to Korea?” You pause. “Where are we going?”

“Something like that. Uh… well, we’re in California,” Mark says, causing you to swerve.

“You brought me across state lines?! Maaaark, your parents are going to kill you!”

“They think I’m with Johnny-hyung for the weekend. Don’t worry, he’ll cover for me. I think we’re only like half an hour away from LA.”

“You’re insane, Mark. So so insane.”

“So this is Santa Monica, huh?” Mark says, looking out at the crashing waves in front of him and inhaling deeply, letting his lungs fill with the cool ocean air, sand getting stuck between his toes.

“This is so beautiful,” you whisper. “Thank you for bringing me, Mark.”

“I would do anything for you, I hope you know that,” Mark responds. He takes out a brown paper bag from his backpack, twisting off the cap of the bottle inside and taking a swig of it and gagging. You laugh, taking the bottle out of his hand and sniffing it before taking a drink yourself. 

“Why would you buy vodka? You know you can’t drink alcohol very well.”

“I wanted to see if my ID would work! It was pretty easy, I just handed it to the guy and spoke in Korean and he didn’t question it.” He takes the bottle out of your hand and takes another drink, this time more prepared and able to suppress the gag that bubbles in his throat. You turn to look at Mark, and he quickly shifts his head to stare back at you. Some people say they feel their heart skip a beat when the person they love looks at them, but when Mark looks at you, your heart stops completely. Your heart stops, your breath gets caught in your chest, and you stop blinking. You have to make a conscious effort to breathe in and out, and open and close your eyelids as Mark looks at you and overtakes your thoughts.

As you’re staring at Mark, memorizing every inch of his face as the Santa Monica sun sets, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up and your face begin to numb as the vodka hits you. He reaches out to pinch your cheek, smiling wide at your flushed face, and when you feel his fingers on your skin, you just know — this is real, this is love.

“You’re so cute,” Mark says.

“Says you.” You grab the bottle from Mark’s other hand, taking another deep chug before pressing the bottle to his lips. You tilt it and he drinks from it until he can’t handle the taste anymore, pushing it away slightly and letting you drop it between your bodies.

“Y/N, I—”

“Kiss me.”

Mark doesn’t need to be told twice; instantly pressing you down into the sand, body hovering above yours and attaching his lips to yours. He lets you lead the kiss this time, opening his mouth when he feels your tongue poking at his lips and allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth. Your tongue traces over his teeth, before meeting his tongue and playing with it. Your hands come up to hold onto his face, and he softens into your touch. Mark feels dizzy — both from the feeling of your tongue in his mouth and the vodka hitting him all at once. He pulls away, panting as he tries to catch his breath.

“I feel like I’m living a dream,” Mark says, staring at your face with something you can only describe as love in his eyes.

“I want to go swimming,” you respond, quickly sitting up without thinking and hitting your head against his. “Owie, I’m sorry, honey. Don’t know why I got up so quickly.”

Mark giggles and sits up, peeling his shirt off and dropping it on the sand. “Let’s go swimming.” He stands up, trying to kick his skinny jeans off as you stand up and start walking to the water. “Y/N! Take your jeans off at least.”

“Nuh-uh, I wanna go swimming,” you say, stumbling as you walk through the hot sand as quickly as you can and into the water. You don’t even register how cold the water is, quickly walking deep into the ocean and letting the waves go over your head. Mark rushes to catch up with you, walking into the ocean in only his underwear. He pulls you into his arms and you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and rest your forehead up against his.

“I miss you already, Mark.”

“I don’t even leave for another 3 months.”

“I know, but I don’t want you to go,” you say quietly. Unwillingly, tears fall down your cheeks and mix with the salt water on your face.

“I’m so glad I finally found you,” Mark responds. “My missing puzzle piece. I’m complete.” He wipes the tears and water from your face and presses a kiss to your lips. 

“I can’t believe we’ve known each other for over 2 years and you waited for us to graduate before making a move on me,” you say, angrily pressing another kiss to his lips. “I’ve been in love with you since the day I took you downtown for the first time, Mark.”

“And I’ve been in love with you since the day you asked me to go downtown with you.”

“You’re so lame,” you say to Mark, just as a huge wave goes over your heads and crashes. You both burst into laughter and you untangle yourself from him, pushing the hair out of your face and trying to regain your breathe. You place your hands on Mark’s shoulders, letting them travel down his chest to the waistband of his underwear. You slip your fingers underneath, pulling the band back before letting it snap back on his skin. “Mark, have you ever… you know…”

He shakes his head no. “M-my mom told me I should s-save myself for someone special,” he says, nervously. “Have you, ever… you know…”

You shake your head no. “Let’s go all the way tonight. No regrets, just love. Just you and me.”

“Okay.”

You and Mark stumble into the Santa Monica Motel, only a 20 minute walk from the Santa Monica Pier, coming up to the front desk with your clothes still dripping and asking for whatever vacant room they have. The desk attendant rolls his eyes, handing you two a pair of room keys and sending you on your way. You walk into the room, one hand holding Mark’s hand, as the other held onto the mostly gone bottle of vodka.

As you walk into the room, Mark throws your things onto the floor and locks the door behind him. You drink half of what’s left in the bottle, giving the rest to Mark which he finishes quickly before stepping into the bathroom. As Mark is in the bathroom freshening up, you pull the sheets off the bed and throw them onto the floor. You then pull the cushions off the couch in the corner, attempting to make a fort in the tiny motel room. You set the cushions up, then use the pillows to try and complete the walls of your fort, before throwing a thin white sheet over everything and crawling underneath. Mark comes out of the bathroom and raises an eyebrow when he sees the mess you’ve created on the floor.

“Y/N?”

“Come meet me in the fort, honey.”

Mark crawls underneath the sheet carefully, trying not to destroy the fort he’s sure you worked hard on. Once he’s underneath and he sees your shirt sticking to your chest, and your skin-tight jeans seemingly sticking tighter to your skin, his heart begins to race.

“I don’t mean to sound like a broken record, but I feel like I’m living a dream,” Mark says, letting his hand rest on your stomach. You reach for his arm, pinching him slightly and he lets out a soft moan. “What was that for?”

“Just to remind you that this isn’t a dream. This is real, and I love you.”

“I love you,” Mark responds. You pull your wet shirt up and off your head, letting it fall to the floor before you unbutton your wet jeans and try to push them off.

“Mark, I need help,” you whine. He laughs before helping you pull your jeans down and setting them on the floor with your shirt. He looks at your entire body up and down, taking in the sight of your matching bra and underwear.

He groans. “Fuck, I really love you.” Mark lets his body hover over yours, quickly enveloping your lips in a quick, passionate kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you and bucking your hips up to meet his. Mark feels himself harden in his underwear and he whines into your mouth at the feeling of you grinding up into him. Your hands grip onto his cheeks softly just as they did when you kissed on the beach, and one of his hands reaches up to pull your bra down and let your breasts free. His hands grab at your chest as if he’s done this before, fingers tugging and tweaking your nipples and you can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth and is caught by his. 

You rip his hand away from your chest, bringing it down into your underwear and pressing his fingers onto your clit. His fingers reach down to your entrance, teasing it softly before collecting your slick and returning to your clit. He pushes down roughly, rubbing in circles and your hips buck up again. This is the first time anyone else has ever touched you, and you quickly feel the knot forming in your stomach. 

“Mark, I’m gonna—” you say, pulling back from his lips for a second and grinding harder into his fingers in an attempt to reach your high quicker.

“Really?” Mark asks in disbelief, eyes wide as he presses his fingers harder into you and takes in the sight of your body. Your chest is going up and down quickly, hips moving and grinding into his fingers, one hand gripping onto his wrist as the other grips on his hair. 

“Fuck, just a few more seconds, I swear, Mark,” you whine, and he speeds his fingers up. And surely enough, within a few seconds, you’re gripping onto his wrist tightly to stop his movements as you cum, clenching around nothing as you chant his name repeatedly. Mark lets you come down from your high on your own time, afraid of overstimulating you before he can even get inside of you. As soon as you’ve come down from your orgasm, you’re pulling Mark into another kiss and pushing his underwear down. 

“Y/N, I-I should p-probably get a c-c-condom,” Mark stutters as your hand grips onto his hard dick and pumps lightly. 

“Nuh-uh,” you say, letting go of him and bucking your hips, feeling the tip of his dick rub against your clit and letting out a content sigh. “I want to feel all of you.”

Mark nods, gripping onto the base of his dick and pushing himself into you slowly, letting you adjust to him. Once he’s all the way in, he lets out a shaky breath as you clench around him a few times, getting used to the feeling of being full of something more than your fingers. “You can move now, honey.” He nods again and slowly begins moving his hips, pulling all the way out before slamming back in.

Mark lowers himself more, making sure you’re chest to chest as he moves slowly inside of you. Your legs wrap around his waist again, arms around his neck, pulling him close to you as you close your eyes and focus on the feeling of Mark’s length moving in and out of you swiftly. Mark lowers his head, resting it on your shoulder and pressing a kiss as you let your mouth fall open in a moan.

“I love you,” Mark’s hips pick up speed at your confession and you let out another loud moan. “I love you, I love you, fuck, baby, I really love you.”

He balances his weight on his hands, pushing himself up to look into your eyes as he fucks into you like his life depends on it. You want to close your eyes so bad, want to focus on the feeling of Mark fucking you, but you’re mesmerized as his eyes look into yours. You’re afraid to even blink, not wanting to miss a moment of this, not wanting to miss a second of the way Mark’s eyebrows furrow as he looks into your eyes, then down at your chest, then down at where your hips meet, then back up into your eyes. He shifts his weight onto one hand, moving the other to your clit and your eyes instantly roll into the back of your head.

“Look at me, baby,” Mark says quietly, angling his hips to meet that spot inside of you, and you struggle to keep your eyes open and looking at him, but you try. 

“A-are you sure you’ve n-never done this before?” You ask, clenching tightly around Mark as he fucks you and rubs your clit. 

“N-never ever. Been saving myself for you.”

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you whine.

“Cum for me, baby, please.” Mark says, and you nod as he presses his fingers just a little harder, pushing you over the edge quickly. The feeling of you clenching around his length sporadically, and your fingernails digging into his back, is enough to push him over the edge, and he’s cumming in you in thick white ropes. He lets out a deep groan as he cuts inside of you, giving you everything he’s got. He falls on top of you, not even bothering to pull out, and you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close. You wipe the sweat off from his forehead and let out a laugh that he returns.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you say.

“Are you on birth control?” Mark asks.

You flick his forehead and giggle. “Yes, I’m on birth control. I have been for like a year.”

“Oh thank God,” he lets out a sigh of relief.

You bask in the silence of the motel room for a second, realizing you’re still on the carpeted floor in the fort you’ve built. “Lets get into bed.”

Mark fixes the sheets and pillows onto the bed as you use the bathroom, and when you emerge from the bathroom naked and crawl into bed next to him, he feels his chest swell with love for you. As soon as you’re in bed with him, you snuggle into his body, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

“Your heart is beating really fast,” you whisper.

“Because of you,” he responds. He pushes you off him slightly, pushing you onto your back and resting his head on your chest. “I wanna be held.”

“You’re such a baby.” You play with Mark’s hair, enjoying the silence before it hits you that Mark is going to leave you. You’ve finally gotten the boy you love, given everything to him, and within a few months he’s going to leave you and start a new life while you’re stuck in your tiny town. Your chest begins to warm in anxiety at the thought of having to be away from him, and tears well in your eyes. “Mark, you can’t leave me. You’re my soulmate.”

“Come with me, then.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” The tears drip down your face slowly and Mark can tell you’re crying by the way your chest contracts underneath him.

He sits up quickly and looks down at you, eyes flickering to your bare chest for a split second before looking back up into your eyes. He wipes the tears from your face. “Y/N, I’m serious. Just take a year off and come with me to Korea, and then you can start school there. I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He leans down and presses a kiss between your breasts before coming back up. “I can’t live my life without you.  Please come with me.”

“Mark, my parents would kill me. Moving to a new country for a boy I’m not even married to? You’re insane.”

“If I could marry you tonight, I would.” Mark thinks for a second and grabs his phone from the table next to the bed, unlocking it and shielding it from your view as he looks something up.

“What time is it?”

“It’s midnight,” he responds.

“You know… it’s only about a 5 hour drive to Vegas from here.”

“And?”

“If we start driving now, we can make it by the time the sun rises.”

“Aaaaand?”

“Aaaand, wecouldbeimpulsiveandgogetmarriedmaybeifyoureallymeantit,” you say quietly.

Mark lets out a hearty laugh before rolling over onto you and pressing a flurry of kisses all over your face, before pulling you into a long kiss.

“What was all that for?” you ask.

He unlocks his phone and hands it over to you, showing that he was looking up 24 hour pawn shops nearby.

“I had the same thought. I thought maybe we go out and get some food, hit one of these pawn shops and get some rings, then drive over to Vegas.”

You let out a laugh and peck his lips. “Let’s go then, baby.”

“I can’t wait to see the look on your parents’ face when you tell them I convinced you to drive across state lines, get married to me, and drop out of state university to move to another country with me.”

“They’ll just have to deal,” you say, getting up out of bed and cringing as you put your wet clothes back on. “I have dry clothes in the car. It’s still parked by the beach, isn’t it?” Mark nods in response, slipping his wet clothes back on and leaving the room keys with the front desk attendant. Your hand slips into his as you walk in the dark streets of the city, walking towards the beach where Mark’s car is parked. “Can we stop in San Francisco on our way back home? I want to see the Golden Gate Bridge.”

“We can do whatever you want, baby.”

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“I know. I love you, too. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you sigh contently. “I can’t wait to spend my life with you.”

[hermannsthumb]

Maria. *Grabs your face* MARIA. I would LOVE to see 15 bobbing for apples from the autumn fic meme written by you. Nothing would delight me more!

Anonymous asked: Halloween prompt #15 please!!... "Bobbing for apples but we meet accidentally underwater lady and the tramp style." OR "I thought we'd have fun bobbing for apples but you actually hate it and are really mad now"

15. Bobbing For Apples

from autumn fic prompts here

KATE ❤️__ ❤️for you id write anything... and anon the lady and the tramp scenario is so fucking funny/good

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

It’s a really good thing that Hermann has Newt, because if Newt’s being honest, he has no damn clue what the poor dude would do without him. Work himself to death, probably. Or spend every Saturday night alone in his bunk. So depressing. Newt considers it his big charitable act of—well, of all time—to force Hermann into social functions, whether it's fun nights out at the bar (with Newt!), or down the hall a few feet for awesome movie marathons in Newt’s quarters (with Newt!), or something like tonight, which is a super awesome and fun Halloween party that, like, everyone on the base was invited to (including Newt!).

Hermann was all set to spend another night alone (probably changing the batteries in all his calculators or rearranging the hangers in his closet) when Newt dragged him out, more or less by the collar of his argyle sweater, with multiple threats to make his life a living hell the following week in the lab if he didn't comply immediately. "Seriously, dude," Newt had said, ominously, while Hermann looked at him like a furious cat ready to take a swipe, "you're gonna put in those vampire fangs and get drunk with me, or you're gonna regret it. I mean it." Newt was not opposed to blasting the shittiest depths of his Spotify account over his bluetooth speakers or using Hermann's favorite coffee mug to hold his dissection tools. Luckily for both of them, Hermann decided the risk wasn't worth it.

Newt knows Hermann is bound to recognize how selfless Newt is being and thank him for it eventually. Probably. Maybe a few years from now. For now, Newt is enjoying the warm and fuzzy feeling of having done a good deed, and also of drinking a considerable amount of spiked punch.

Hermann is not enjoying either.

"I did, in fact, have plans for tonight," he tells Newt, sipping his ginger ale and observing Newt with a fierce scowl. He flat-out refused the booze Newt tried to push on him. It's fine, whatever—it's enough for Newt, right now anyway, that he actually came. They'll work up to bigger stuff like that later.

"Like what?" Newt says. "Doing a crossword puzzle and watching the second half of that boring-ass documentary you put on last weekend?"

Newt considers it an affront to the very concept of movie nights that Hermann used his pick on a documentary, and one about the jaeger program that didn't even bother interviewing him, no less. Newt loves a good documentary, don't get him wrong, but movie nights are for escapist shit. You don't see him switching on Godzilla. Plus, having to watch stock footage of Dr. Gottlieb Sr. blabbing his mouth about how smart he was while you were debating making a move on his son (who was currently in you bed, looking super cute in your sweatpants, because he'd forgotten to pack pj's) was kind of a mood-killer. "It wasn't boring," Hermann sniffs, which tells Newt that his guess was dead-on. "It was...interesting. And anyway, just because they aren't your idea of plans..."

"Okay, whatever," Newt says. "Let's just have fun. That's the point of a party."

He throws an arm around Hermann's shoulder and drags him closer, until their heads knock together painfully. He hears Hermann growl low in his throat. Newt doesn't say, soon, we won't have the time to do stupid shit like this anymore, so we should enjoy it while we can, even though he wants to. It's better to not make fun stuff depressing. Plus, Hermann might decide to take that as an invitation to bail and put on his documentary. Instead he reaches up across Hermann and flicks his chin. Hermann's whole body stiffens. "I can't believe I got you into this super awesome party and you're not even pretending to be thankful," Newt says.

With no great deal of difficulty, Hermann pushes Newt off of him. Newt lands heavily back in his chair, making the whole thing wobble, and he laughs as he just manages to catch himself from falling off the other side. "You got me in?" Hermann says. "Newton, I was invited three weeks ago."

Newt stops laughing. "You were?"

"Yes," Hermann says. The corner of his lip twitches up, with a smugness so powerful Newt can feel it radiating off of him in waves. Bastard. "I took it upon myself to ask if you might be permitted to come, too." He adds, sarcastically, "Out of the kindness of my heart. I know how terribly put out you get when you aren't included in these sorts of things."

Newt considers this new information, and then discards it, because it really doesn't fit the image of himself he's been cultivating as the cool, hip friend to Hermann's uncool, unhip nerd. Like, come on, between the two of them, Newt is obviously the one you'd want at your party. Hermann's gotta be kidding. Probably. Maybe. "It's a lame party anyway," Newt mumbles.

He tries to put his arm around Hermann's shoulder again, remembers that Hermann really didn't like that the first time, and then drops it back down at his side instead. "Totally lame," he continues. Newt recalls the Halloween parties of his youth with a warm, fond glow: elaborate costumes, tacky decorations, passing around bowls of peeled grapes in the dark, carving jack-o-lanterns while his dad hovered protectively over him to make sure he didn't take a finger off with the knife. This is none of that. Barely anyone even dressed up! The lack of Halloween spirit is tragic. "There aren't even any party games."

"Yes there are," Hermann says, mildly.

He points across the room at a large metal tub that Newt somehow missed before. It looks like it's filled with water, and...

"Dude," Newt says.

He doesn't wait to ask before he's hopping to his feet and dragging Hermann along after him by his blazer cuff. Hermann swats at his heels a few times with his cane, but eventually—like he does with most of Newt's ideas—gives in. "I'm a fuckin' champ at bobbing for apples," Newt boasts. "I used to—oops, excuse me," (he runs into two guys who are, like, twice his height, upsetting their drinks, and he hears Hermann groan as something purple spills on his sweater), "I used to always win it at the fall fest when my dad would take me." And then when he went back as an adult by himself, but it was less impressive a win when you were up against a bunch of ten-year-olds.

"You do have an exceptionally large mouth," Hermann says, rubbing at his stained shoulder. "I suppose that helps." As Newt bends to investigate the iron tub, he says, "Oh, Newton, don't, it's been out all night. Who knows what sorts of germs are in there?"

Newt gets to his knees and rolls up the sleeves of his PPDC-issued labcoat. He's a mad scientist to Hermann's vampire (vampire librarian?) tonight. Yeah, it's kind of a lazy costume, but it was free—he already had everything he needed in the lab. "I can get it in five seconds, max," he declares. His record is one second, but he's the first to admit he's a little rusty, and he'd rather impress Hermann by beating his estimate. "Will you hold my headlamp?"

Grumbling, Hermann takes it. Newt sets his glasses on the ground. "You're going to get yourself bloody soaking," Hermann says, and then he complains about something else, too, but Newt is screwing his eyes shut and ducking his head into the tub, which makes it difficult to hear him. One second—two seconds—two and a half—Newt emerges victorious from the tub, teeth clenched down firmly on an apple, and accidentally splatters a large amount of water on Hermann's shoes. He pulls the apple out of his mouth with a grin and waves it at Hermann. "See. I'm a fucking pro."

He tucks his glasses back on his face to discover that Hermann is staring at him with a very strange expression on his face. Newt can't decide if it's the blacklight bulbs overhead that are washing him out and making him look so flushed, or something else entirely. Then, in a second, he's grumpy and scowling and tsking over his wet shoes. "A pro," he echoes. "Hardly. It can't be that complicated."

Newt gestures grandly at the tub and takes a bite out of his apple. Hermann can always be relied upon to never turn down a challenge, especially when it means making Newt look—potentially—stupid. Newt uses it to his advantage often. Whatever it takes to help the guy have a good time. "It's all yours, dude."

Hermann grumbles something again about Newt being too arrogant for his own good, and something else about showing Newt how to do it without making a mess of everything, then gets down to his knees with a quiet hiss of discomfort. He shoves his cane, and Newt's headlamp, at Newt, though bewilderingly leaves his blazer on. "I'll be just a moment," he says, and dunks his head into the tub.

He splashes back up no more than five seconds later. Apple-less. "Bugger," he coughs, and then coughs some more. The entire front of his sweater is soaked. "I didn't—I didn't start out right. Let me—"

Newt watches Hermann try to drown himself a few more times in mild interest before he finally intercedes. "Need a hand?" he says, getting to his knees next to Hermann.

"No," Hermann splutters.

Newt takes his glasses off again. "Yeah, you do. Okay, now watch me—"

He emerges with another apple in seconds.

Hermann grits his teeth. "Newton—"

"One more?" Newt says, his grin widening.

Back under. Another apple. He winks at Hermann when he goes in for a fourth time, and this time, he feels the water of the tank being upset as Hermann (refusing to be outdone once again) splashes in alongside him. God, Newt loves riling Hermann up like this—he gets so funny, and kinda cute, when he's mad about something. Red in the face, and scowling, and sometimes (when he's real mad) speaking in a dangerously low and rough sort of voice with his r's rolling that makes Newt shiver, just a little. Like, Newton, you worthless, pathetic little man, cease this immediately, or else I'll... He actually said that to Newt once. It made Newt feel a little warm under his collar. Hermann's probably going to say something similar to him this time, and Newt can't wait.

Ten seconds in. Newt has been cutting Hermann a little slack at first, just to see if he can catch up, but finally decides to just go for the apple that's been bobbing steadily against his mouth this whole time. (He loves beating Hermann at stuff.)

And, well, apparently Hermann goes for it too.

They both miss the apple. Newt's mouth is up against Hermann's for another five seconds before he realizes what's happening (that that is definitely not an apple, that that is definitely a mouth, that that mouth is wide and weird another to belong to only one person Newt knows, that that mouth is parting in surprise, oh my God) and then he pulls away so quickly that he breathes in what feels like half the tub of water. He falls back on his ass, coughing furiously, and it's not until he shoves his glasses back on with a shaking hand that he realizes that Hermann has done the same. "I," Hermann says. His eyes are wide. "I'm sor—"

"It's fine," Newt squeaks.

"It was—"

"I know!"

Newt and Hermann's mouths were touching for five whole seconds. Underwater, while apples bobbed against their foreheads, but their mouths still touched. Oh my God. In elementary school, Newt thinks dizzily, that would be enough to catch cooties. This was so not how he wanted his awesome eventual seduction of Hermann to go down. For one thing, it wasn't even a seduction.

"I'm gonna get a towel," Newt says.

Hermann nods. He looks strangely adorable with water droplets on his nose and his hair plastered to his head like that. Newt has to get out of here before he does something stupid, like take Hermann's pointy cheeks between his hands and put their mouths together on purpose. He doesn't think Hermann would respond to that very well right now.

"I'll get you one too," Newt says, and it takes a lot of effort to force himself to his feet.

Hermann nods again.

"Okay," Newt says, and stumbles away. Out of the corner of his eye, he just catches Hermann raising a hand to his mouth.

[ranger-rai]

Who was the worst trainer you've ever seen?

A LOT!

Some trainers are just young or not cut out for the amount of work, travel and responsibility that comes with the journey.

We also see trainers who are really bad at knowing what their pokemon needs. We always get people that will send their pokemon into battle after battle, throw them medicine like Revives, Potions, etc, and then send them right back in without rest or proper inspection in their health.

We see it so often and we choose to educate over get mad, but we are pretty stern on it.

The worst trainers are the ones who just treat their pokemon badly or are terrible people.

Most trainers will just shut up and listen when they see the uniform or badge and we can get a scan on their Trainer ID thanks to special tools we have.

We also get punks who try to act tough, but most are just angry kids, who honestly I've found that offering them a snack and having some snacks for their pokemon calms them both down so....have snacks.

However its the rich or privileged trainers that are the worst.

I've had to break up fights and arguments over dumb things like:

Who should pick up trash and why it shouldn't be them.

How they actually won a battle despite their whole team being knocked out.

How they can go wherever they want, and then them threatening to sue because they got something like poison oak.

And many others!

And yes I have had someone threaten to "speak to my manager" and I warned them that they don't wanna meet Jo.

Now I don't usually have any aggression for a trainer, but I did almost punch this one guy who kept his Piplup on a leash.

This wasn't a child or teen either, this was a full on adult.

I had to do a double and triple take when I saw them walking together.

This trainer looked so proud of himself for some reason, but his little Piplup looked tired as hell.

Piplup has little legs, and a small body. On top of that their feet aren't built for all terrains, so sometimes they need to be held.

I actually ran up behind him, grabbed the leash and cut it with my survival knife, then I scooped up the Piplup.

The piece of trash was confused, and was about to pick a fight until he saw the uniform and tried running.

Thankfully Bliss and Kuriboh were nearby and stopped him.

He was detained, and his pokemon taken for examination and they were all in similar states with rashes and bruses around their neck areas.

Listen, collars can be helpful in certain situations when used properly, but most of the time why won't be needed on a journey that is supposed to bring a trainer and their pokemon closer.

I'm weary enough of people who use them outside of say Farming or Service Training, but this was clearly abuse.

I beleive his residence was checked and it was just a terrible place, no care of the pokemon, some of which who were rare, which leads me to believe he could have been some kind of Breeder or lent his pokemon out to be bred, doesn't matter because he's on a list now.

It really never is fun to meet people like that.

[nebulations]

[ID: Image one is a page from a Hawkeye comic which features Clint's stressed internal narration over knotted wires. A clock ticks, and Tony watches, sweating. Clint says he'll cut the green wire, to which Tony is incredulous, but Clint does so. Then it's revealed that the wires were just connected to an outlet extension for a Christmas tree. Tony says, "That was stupid, Clint, it's just knotted up." Clint replies, "You untangle 'em then, Tony Stark genius Superman."

The following images are all screenshots of tags on this post, here transcribed without hashtags for readability. They read:

megamindsupremacy: you know what? youre so right actually. Tim finds himself as accidental mentor to Joung Justice v4 at age thirtywhatever. robin number 10 tracks him down like 'I know the perfect guy to show us how to be a team! he helped found young justice OG!' smash cut to the team breaking into Tim's murderboat where hes passed out on the couch surrounded by takeout containers

the entire team is like. unimpressed as hell but it turns out tim was awake the whole time and takes out the entire team while their guard is down. hes like. what are you small hero children doing in my house. gets talked into mentoring these kids and hes mad about it the whole time but in a 'no im gonna do it fuck you' kinda way. every so often he'll stop in the middle of a lesson and go 'brb' and run off. hes fighting off the ninja hordes because like five seperate organizations have sworn blood oaths to kill him at all costs. eventually its revealed the reason he cut himself off from the hero community is because he had one (1) too many close calls with the whole 'almost becomes a supervillain in the very near future and we CANNOT have another gun batman'

then his team of miscellaneous children convince him he wont actually become a supervillain if he forgets to eat breakfast or whatever and its very sweet. but yeah the entire time their opinion of him is swinging wildly between 'how is this man able to function well enough to stand right now'. and 'oh! hes like really good at this. hes. really good at this. hes worryingly good at this. he. slow down mr tim. h. hey please stop. provoking ninja cults this is your second one this week. mr. tim please.'

roseandgold137: exactly. tim that's a disaster is good. tim that's a disaster and responsible for all these tiny people is GREAT. he can't make food for himself but one kid says they're a little hungry and suddenly he's a michelin star chef. tim drake. he takes to parenting like he takes to everything else. the aim is to achieve a Good Grade in parenting. which is both normal to want and possible to achieve

empty-blog-for-lurking: I love this. Not only because it feels like a natural progression for Tim who's whole thing is he sought out his mentor and teams And that he is always seeking to learn (about people about cases about fighting skills etc)

But also it would be so fucking funny given how much shit he has given to Bruce and almost every adult in his life. Just being forced to be a mentor. The kids will just not leave him alone. they also will eat all his food. Somewhere red tornado is feeling the soothing salve of karma in his not feeling heart. speaking of mentors Bruce is definately the guy who was a c+ parent but an actually loving grandparent

Bruce: Tim you dont think you are being rigid with your training? They are all only 16. That's practically baby :(. Tim having flashbacks to the time he was gaslit into a mental breakdown by Bruce at his 16th bday: you dont say. Also Tim's advices really gonna swing between 'practical' philosophical' and 'highly specific and deeply unhinged'. Like 'with your body shape it would be more practical to use kicks based fighting style over fists.' Or 'we cant save every1 not even those we love. Definately not on our own. What we can do is learn and let go and trust those still around'. or 'it is always morally ok to fake having a relative to get out of adoption'

Also Tim retiring from hero thing cuz of gun batman only to getting dragged back into hero job by a bunch of plucky kids is so funny. Tim avoids being batman (dictator with a gun) by becoming batman (single divorced father-mentor of several kids). Tim: Bruce you need a robin. You need to become the hero you once were. If i have to force you to take me as your pupil for this i will. Years later yjv4: Tim you need to become the hero you once were. If we have to force u to take us as your pupils for that to happen we will. how the turn tables

Sorry for this bullshit op i might be mildly obsessed. tim drake. dc. empty reblogs. Tim internally: oh no i have become the very thing i had refused to be. I tried not to become gun batman (evil) only to become Bruce (Pathetic friendless disaester). (He does have friends it is just that his vibes are so disaestrous that he doesnt seem like he has friends)

proxyma: i want the rest of the young justice to have cameos in that series. like half the time they are bullying tim along the with the kids the other half they are being bullied along him. like you cant look me in the eye and say kon wont try to impress these young super hero children only for it end up in him being bullied. like kon looks cool but as soon as he opens his mouth its all downhill. bart maybe has chances of not bring bulled. cissis wont be bullied at all like she is an Olympic athlete and model no doubt the children are probably fans of her. these are the only ones im sure in

alternis: isolationist Tim is fun but can i suggest adult Tim just has the vibes of the friendless uncle with no permanent job. despite being gainfully employed and invited to barbecues nearly every weekend by his giant friend roster despite being retired. he gets in a particularly difficult situation with yjv4 and is forced to call in backup and 28 heroes show up within the next 30 seconds. the entire team is shocked to discover he had friends willing to help the whole time and didn't call them because he knew they'd. a) judge his fashion and life choices b) fix everything too fast for the kids to learn important hero lessons. and most importantly c) make fun of him in front of the team and then realise he's their mentor and make fun of him even harder. tim tag. gothamites. End ID]

Honestly it sucks that dc wont let Tim age cause in my opinion Tim would have made an excellent aimless-disaester-adult-hero-who-is-suprisingly-a-good-mentor. Like i am talking about Tim being incharge of a bunch of kid heroes being actually good at guiding them, and then he goes back home (his dingy murder boat) opens his fridge and finds a single egg. He doesnt know what he will do with his life, but he does mentor rather well so i guess that is going on well¯\_(ツ)_/¯

At first I was thinking the Peter Parker route but you know that panel in Hawkeye where it looks like he’s diffusing a bomb but he’s actually just untangling wires from his game console, and then just cuts them anyway? That’s what I’m envisioning

[septimus-heap]

Anyway here's the merrin post ❤️

ID: a post reading "if you need me I'll be screaming over how merrin was sent back to his emotionally unstable mother who he Literally Didn't Know after having his thumb cut off" there are tags by @/zazujoy reading #ok it's been a sec since I've read #but it felt like an attempt to avoid a true redemption arc #and instead just kinda go . . . 'they deserve each other' which uhhhhhhhhhhh #merrin's a little shit and I don't like him but to say ANY child deserves to be returned to an unfit parent is. #I don't like it /end ID

THANK YOU @zazujoy u r RIGHT and you should say it because,, god merrin was a dick but :(( anyway here was my response to joys response 😌😌

THANK YOU like if she was a functioning person who didn't have mountains of her own baggage that needed to be taken care of then I wouldn't be so mad abt them giving merrin to her but like :// making it so that the only reason she's really Sane is bc she got her son back is. I guess it's sweet if u don't think about it? Maybe? But all it does is make merrin the one responsible for her mental health which is incredibly shit and yeah I agree with u,, there's. There's no situation where they "deserve each other" wtf?? There are ways to give merrin a healthy family or at least some decent adults in his life without just abandoning him to a mother who probably couldn't take care of him at first????? He's essentially been doing that his entire life already he doesn't need more of it with the person who's supposed to look after him?? Anyway not to say merrin deserved better but merrin deserved better

Essentially merrin is solely responsible for his mother's mental health which is a hell of a burden to put on anyone let alone a traumatised 15 year old?? It was a shitty way to get him out of the way for bigger villains to take his place and that's all it is

[andilovetowrite]

Of Everything You Could've Said (Part 1)

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You didn’t think going for a movie night with your best friend could turn into you icing him out. And the worst part? You weren’t even sure why you were mad at him….

Warnings: Angst to fluff. I think this could be a two-part story, but let’s see if I can finish it in one go. Mixed feelings are running through, and Peter is perplexed…A few tears, but nothing too wrong.

Using the prompts:

“I have an extra ticket… Would you like to go with me?”

“YOU SAID, TO BE HONEST, STOP HITTING ME!”

“Why the hell is there glitter everywhere?”

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.”

Based on a request, you can find it here!

Prompt list, if you have some ideas.

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to find more of my work :)

You didn’t expect it. Let’s just put it that way. It came out of nowhere; what were you supposed to do? Or say?

Sadly, instead of handling it like an adult, you did the 2nd dumbest thing you could ever do. You shouted at him.

And now you are sitting here in your bed at 9 am on a Saturday, eating your third pint of ice cream. If anyone were to walk into your room, they would see you huddled up under 4 layers of blankets, with yesterday’s mascara running over your face. But you were quite comfortable staying right where you were. Under the cover. Out of the public eye. Out of Peter’s eye.

You groaned, not knowing what you were going to do when you eventually got up out of your ridiculously comfortable bed. Want to know what went wrong? Why you were basically a spineless bag of tears and ice cream, who doesn’t have a best friend?

Here’s how it went.

23 hours ago

“Heyo”, Peter said, his head popping into your window. His brown hair was hanging over his eyes, and you could make out the red and blue suit that was sticking out from underneath his shirt.

“Hey Pete, ready to go?” You asked, shrugging your jacket on. He nodded, which looked a bit comical due to him being upside down. You chuckled, moving closer to him. “Really? What about this little piece of fabric?” you asked, pulling his suit out a bit.

“Oh yeah… you mind me changing here?” Peter asked, jumping into your room with ease. You shook your head, smiling at what you were about to say, knowing it was going to rile Peter up.

“Please! Your naked in my room most nights anyway”, you said cheekily, turning to see Peter’s face go red.

“I don’t-wha-um that’s because-spiderman-uh”, Peter stuttered out, a vast blush lighting up his body. You laughed out loud, peering at Peter from under your eyelashes.

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. Go change”, you said, turning away from Peter. But you couldn’t help feeling glad that you had turned around so that Peter couldn’t see a similar smile that lit up your face when you heard him grunting softly while taking off his suit. After a minute or two, he called out, telling you that he was ready.

“Where are we going again?”, he asked from behind you.

“Oh uh, my dad got 4 tickets to a movie, so he and Pepper used two of them. They gave me the other two, so I got an extra ticket. You wanna go with me?”

You kept quiet, knowing Peter was probably nodding his head enthusiastically before he remembers that you can’t see him. “Yeah, yeah I can come with you. All I have to do is Physics homework, and prepare for the Plank Test.” You turned around to see him flexing his muscles. “At least one of them is going to be a piece of cake.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, lightly punching his arm. “Okay, Mr Muscle. Let me just get my stuff”

His spiderman suit was lying on your bed, which you picked up, chucking it into the laundry vent like you did most of the time. “Alright, let’s go”, you said, but then you realized you were still wearing sweats.

Calling out to Peter, who was now talking to your dad, you asked. “Hey Pete, skirt of jeans?”

“Um, probably jeans”, your dad called out, when Peter quickly said at the same time.

“Skirts are good!”

You looked between Peter and your dad. “Uh, thanks dad, but I think I’ll just wear a skirt. It is pretty hot today.”

Your dad rolled his eyes. “When did my own daughter stop taking fashion advice from me? I’m Iron Man for god’s sakes. I was on Vogue last month! And, what if someone tries anything bad with you. Skirts are easy to access, you know?”

“Ugh, thanks, dad. But you are probably forgetting your daughter is a superhero. And so is Peter. Oh and also, it was Pepper who was on the cover. You flew in from behind to be in the shot” You said, walking back into your room and picking out a skirt. It was either the brown one, which you loved, and was comfortable… or the red one, which Peter loved. Or so you assumed. He always had a hard time forming sentences when you wore them. The choice was clear. So you picked the red one. Don’t judge! It’s not because of Peter. You just thought it would match your top, plus...you liked red.

Walking back into the hall, you saw Peter standing there, fiddling with his thumbs as your dad spoke to him, listing off some instructions.

“So always open the door, oh also, she loves reading this one series and-”

“Hey dad. Do you think we could go to the movies? Or are you gonna hog my best friend?”, you asked, smirking at the two of them. Peter looked at your dad, giving him a nervous smile for some reason.

“Bye Mr Stark”

“Bye dad”

“Bye kids. Be back by eleven.”, your dad said, before winking at Peter. “Good luck Pete”

Smiling at him, you both walked out, excited for whatever you were gonna watch. But more importantly, just spending time with Peter. Because of superhero duties, as well as just normal student duties, hanging out with him was becoming few and far between, making you cherish this time.

“So what was my dad saying? Good luck for what?”

“Oh um, nothing. Nothing at all. Something for the test, uh plank”, Peter rambled, trying to mask something. You almost sighed out loud. As part of your “job”, you did most of the questioning and interrogation. Seeing through lies was easy enough. And it probably wasn’t something you had to bother about, so you just let it slide.

“Okay then”, you said, but you still saw that Peter was looking away, biting his lip. “Hey, did he tell you anything about the movie? I have no idea what we are watching”

Again, Peter shook his head too quickly. “N-no, I don’t know.” Taking a deep breath, you were confused, glancing at Peter. Sensing your discomfort, he gestured his his hand out to the street. “We’re here, let’s go in”

Looking around, all you saw was a dark road, and a metal door. “Where-where are we? Oh my god, are you plotting on killing me?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “C’mon, Mr Stark said this was the place. Private theatre or something”

Pulling me in, he pushed the door open and led me in. Inside was dark, with shimmers of purple coming from the walls. Throwing your hands around Peter, you held onto him with one arm, and the other tried to feel where you were walking.

“Uh Pete, why the hell is there glitter everywhere?”

“You’ll see”, Peter said, his voice excited but nervous.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll also see that”

After taking about three more steps, dim orange light started showing up, and we emerged into a small room. And it took my breath away. In the middle, was a table for two, with a sweet candle in the middle. A glittering chandelier hung above the ceiling, showing small sparkles around the room, and the smell of Delmar’s sandwiches walfed through the air.

“Wha-what is this Pete?!”

“Uh, well, it’s a dinner. I, um aren’t the best at this, so Mr Stark helped me out a bit with it”

And suddenly, it clicked. Tony didn’t even go to a movie this week, and Pepper didn’t even mention anything about it. And when he gave you those two tickets, it didn’t have any title or venue. Not only that, but he also asked you if you would like to invite Peter, which is probably why Peter came all dressed up. And it would also explain the quiet talking behind your back.

Walking over to the table, you saw a familiar sandwich on the plate, but that was the furthest thing from your mind. “Wh-why would yo-you do-?”

“Oh, well, it seems pretty formal, and you love Delmar’s food, so I thought it would be a good ide-” Peter said, misunderstanding your question as he came up behind you.

“No NO! I mean, why all of this?”, you asked, knowing fully well why.

“Well, I uh, really like you. More than a friend. I’m pretty sure I love you Y/N-”

Peter said this, his face glowing with adoration and I could see the love in his eyes. His eyes were shining from the light, and I could see a smile forming on his face a he picked up a rose from his chair and held it out to me. And for the first time, you were speechless in front of Peter. Your Peter. Your best friend Peter.

You wanted to say the right thing, you really did. But what came out of your mouth wasn’t even remotely right.

“No Peter! I can’t- why would you-ugh”, you said in a rush, tears forming in your eyes. Not knowing what to do, you went and hit Peter. “Why would you- this isn’t for friends Pete! Honestly, why would yo-”

“I know! I want to be with you, like a cou-couple. YOU SAID, TO BE HONEST, STOP HITTING ME!”

Shaking your head, you could see Peter’s face drop at your expression, the meaning of your words settling in. You could see tears coming down his face, and his mouth started to open, but you couldn’t face him. Not with how fast your tears were streaming down your face. And definitely not with how fast your heart was going.

“Y/N I-I’m sorry, damn it please don’t go-”

But you didn’t hear the rest of it, running out into the street and going as fast as your legs could carry you back home. And when you got back, you didn’t even bother doing anything, tears clouding your eyes, as you fell into your bed, letting your pillow soak up the mixed feelings and confusing thoughts as you fell asleep to the memory of Peter’s heartbroken face…

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

Wow, I love angst. This is only the first part, since I think I’m going to work on a second part of this soon. I hope I did the request justice, and I loved writing it. Thanks!

Taglist: @a–1–1–3 @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme @ladykxxx08 @allegras-sunflower

[weepingaesthetic]

Orenda

Pairing: Dabi x reader

AU: Adult Verse

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Romance

Rating: NSFW

Warning: Drug use, swearing

Notes: Orenda is a mature fanfic that takes place in the characters adult years. Characters have been aged up (20+). There will be cursing, drug-use, extreme violence, explicit content, mentions of death and abuse.  I don’t do clean versions but I will put a line where you can skip explicit scenes if it makes you uncomfortable. :) All content will be on my Masterlist. Enjoy~

Words: 2900+

Chapter 02

Masterlist

Orenda:

An internal summoning of personal strength to change fate. The courage to love someone against the obstacles life has set before you.

You’re a hacker helping a villain. He gets the information from you and stays when it’s convenient. There’s no room for feelings, right?

Strikhedonia

Strikhedonia: The joy of being able to say “the hell with it”

The trip to the store made you anxious and it wasn’t because of the storm brewing overhead.

“Remind me again why you decided it was a good idea to go to the store with me.?” 

The man beside you smirked. “Have to make sure our little hacker doesn’t get jumped in the street, don’t I.?” 

You rolled your eyes. “You know as well as I do, I could have anyone on their knees before they could blink.”

His smirk turned into a full-blown grin, almost looking predatory. “Didn’t know you were into that kind of thing, doll. Kinky. I like it.” 

You slapped his shoulder, part of you being cautious of the staples, another part of you hoping you hit them anyway. This man-

“Honest answer, sweetheart, Shigaraki wants tabs on you. Called last night. The heroes were after you specifically. Who did you give blue balls to.?”

This time you shoved him. Well tried. What is he.? Made of fucking brick.? And sleeping with them.? What does he take you for.?

“As if. Why would they come after me.? I work under the radar. As far as they know I’m just a stubborn hacker with no IP address. As far as personally, just some hacker who has no interest in helping them. They don’t even know my real name.” You could feel yourself beginning to shake, despite the confidence in your voice. Missed a protection wall maybe.? Impossible. Everything was checked and double checked. This wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew what to set up for.

“Seems not, princess. Someone has a vendetta and it has your name on it.”  

“Guess I’ll be making another stop then.” He quirked an eyebrow at you, signaling for an explanation. 

You shrugged. “If you think I’m recoding my own firewall sober, your dumber than I thought.” 

He glared at you at the comment. “I’m not the one who failed at their own job.” 

“Says the man who got raided out of their hideout last night.”

“Says the woman responsible for it.” 

You turned on him, causing him to almost bump into you from the sudden stop. “I had nothing to do with that. Ask your undercover boy who did, because no one should know I’m even working with the League. I said stop the accusatory bullshit. If you can’t do that then fuck off.” To say you had a short temper was an understatement of the year. It was a double-edged sword. It kept a wall around your heart, but caused hell to those who got caught in it.

“I said your still a suspect, doll face. Why do you think we're keeping tabs on you.?” His smirk was cold. Unfeeling. It made you want to punch him. 

“Fuck you guys. I stay up for days helping you and the minute something happens all fingers point to me.? Real great of you. Tell Twice he can shove his firewall job up his ass.” You shook your head in disgust, stalking off in your original direction. The fucking nerve of them. How dare they.? After all you put on the line for them? This is how they repay you.? 

You heard Dabi walking behind you, neither of you making any moves to start a conversation for a moment.

“Crusty-face said you passed the test.” 

“What.?” Your voice was low, threatening and louder than intended. A few people glanced at the two of you before scurrying off. If you were still rational maybe you would’ve felt bad for drawing attention. Right now.? Hell no.

He pulled out an ear piece and waved it at you before crushing it. “Wanted proof on me saying you were innocent.” 

Your glare was ice cold. “Do that shit again and you can find a different hacker to do your dirty work.”

“Come on, don’t be like that Ace.” 

“Fuck you. It’s Asayama to you.” You walked into the store, leaving him in the street. Stupid trust issues. Stupid feelings. Fuck Dabi, the League, and everything to do with it. At least you had still given him the privilege of using your first name. 

The store was vacant for the most part. A few stragglers here and there. Nothing too concerning, especially with how late it was. You walked up to the counter, greeting the elderly woman behind it.

“What can I do you for.?” Her voice was soft and soothing. Part of you wondered if she carried the same candy your grandmother would always carry. She had the same air around her. Comfort. Home.

“Marlboro red black shorts please.” 

She asked for ID and nodded, going to search for your request. 

“I saw you fighting with the guy standing outside. Need me to call someone.?” At least she was caring, you’d give her that. 

“No, just an argument. His trust issues are getting annoying.” You didn’t know why you didn’t just shut her down, but the thought of being rude to this woman made you uncomfortable. It’d be like yelling at your own grandma. The thought made you shudder.

She nodded, knowingly. “$12.14 dear. May I give my advice.?”

You nodded back cautiously as you handed over the money. 

“Trust issues are best talked about openly. Explain your side and allow him to explain his. It may be annoying, but there’s a reason he's guarding his heart so much. Try to get him to open up to you.” 

You wondered if this woman was some kind of psychic. You knew some of Dabi’s past to know it was rough, but not enough to know why he always pointed fingers at you. This woman made more of a point than you’d like to admit. 

You thanked her and walked back outside. It was starting to sprinkle and Dabi was nowhere to be found. You lit a cigarette and started your walk home, mind running with indecision as you pondered the idea given to you. It was going to be a long day.

Two days passed before you saw Dabi again. This time had you sprinting over to him in mild panic. Bruises littered his face and arms, a slash wound on his shoulder trailing blood down his arm and onto your clean floor. He was leaning against the door frame heavily, smirking at you like he wasn’t about to pass out onto your linoleum.

“Got a band aid you can spare.?” 

You scoffed at him and pulled him into your kitchen as quickly as he could move, pulling out the disinfectant. 

“Shirt off.” Your voice was clipped with worry and anger. One part of you still wanted to kick him out and give him the cold shoulder, the other part worried what would happen if you didn’t bandage him up first. 

“If you wanted me naked that bad princess, all you had to do was ask.” He was leaned back in the chair comfortably, like he owned the place. He almost looked like he did. Almost. 

You glared at him unamused until he complied. Your breath caught in your throat as more bruises and scratches popped up where the clothing used to cover. 

You steadied your breath and walked in front of him. “This will hurt.”

You poured the disinfectant over the worst wound on his shoulder, checking to see if it needed stitches. Luckily it didn’t, but you knew you’d have to bandage it. You grabbed the roll, working swiftly and carefully as you wrapped. He didn’t make any indication of pain other than the bouncing of his leg. 

You grabbed the ointment for the other cuts once you finished before speaking. “Want to tell me what happened.?”

He didn’t look at you, keeping his eyes on the wall as you worked. “No.”You gritted your teeth, controlling your temper for once. Fine then. 

You stood up once you were sure everything was cleaned and bandaged properly before turning away from him. You used putting the bandages away as an excuse not to look at him. You were still angry, right.? 

“Your good now, you can leave.” 

You heard the chair scrape against the floor and felt your heart drop. Why was this bothering you so much.? You knew he didn’t care about you. You knew this was a business arrangement. You were barely friends. So why were you so on edge.? Why did it hurt so much.?

“Twice wants to know how the Firewall breach is going.” Normal. Small talk. Business. You hated it. 

“I told you, he can shove it up his ass.”

You turned around to walk past him, but he caught your arm, stopping you from going any further. You made no move to turn around and look at him. 

“Are you really still mad about the test.?” 

You turned your head toward him to catch him in your peripherals, your face void of any emotion. “Of course not. Why would I be.? Why would I be upset that the only real friend I fucking have accused me of betraying him.? Not once, but twice.? Why would I be upset that the people I work day and night for to secure their safety so much I barely sleep can’t believe I’m actually on their side.? Why in the hell would I be upset over that Dabi.?” You could feel your nails extending into claws and you ripped your arm away from him. Maybe you didn’t have as good as a handle on your emotions as you thought. 

“You know as well as I do, Shigaraki doesn’t take chances. I told you I believed you. I was just soothing the boss's insecurities.” He almost looked sad for a second, before his face was back to its usual mask. It was so quick you second guessed if it had been there at all.

You knew you were being irrational. It was stupid. You knew they were just looking after themselves. So why did you feel so hurt and betrayed.? Why couldn’t you filter out your emotions.? You didn’t say anything of the thoughts running through your head, knowing if you did it would cause more damage than good.

“I need to get back to work.” You tried to change the subject, handing Dabi a flash drive out of your pocket. “This is what Twice asked for. All the information he needed is there.” 

He chuckled at you and took it. “What happened to he could shove this job up his ass.?” 

You flushed. “Just give it to him before I change my mind.” 

“Will do.” He pocketed the drive, the normal comfortable silence between you two feeling awkward. 

You cursed yourself. You created this. Should you fix it.? Should you take advice from a stranger who couldn’t begin to understand this weird relationship.? It was now or never. Emotions be damned.

“Listen I-" you scratched your arm to try and distract yourself from how awkward this whole thing was, “I know you don’t trust anyone. I know you're just looking out for yourself. The rest of League too.” 

You saw his face soften from its usual hardened, playful expression. You felt your confidence push up a bit. “Just lay off the accusatories, okay.? Not a fan of having all my hard work shoved back in my face. If I really wanted to work against you that much, I would’ve already. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to screw you over. Not to mention you sleep like the dead.” You teased him, not that you could help it. 

This soft, mushy shit was way out of your comfort zone. Emotions weren’t something either of you talked about. Hell, it took him months to even start venting to you about work. 

His lips turned up into the smallest of smiles, the tension relaxing around you both. “You're one to talk. You snore loud enough to challenge freight trains.”

You swatted at him, watching him dance away from the attack, your own smile shoving it’s way to your face. “I do not.”

“Video evidence on my phone says otherwise.” His usual smirk settled back onto his face as you gaped at him.

“You fucking recorded me.?” You were ready to slice into him, injured or not.

“When you say my name all cute like in your sleep, how could I not.?”

You scoffed at him. “Bullshit. I have better things to dream about.” 

He chuckled, the sound going straight for your heart. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ace.” 

“Kiss my ass.”

“Well, if you're offering.” He winked at you, hands sliding out of his pockets as if he was actually considering your remark. 

“As if. You staying or disappearing again.?” Back to casual. Easy. Definitely safer for your heart.

“Miss me, doll.?” He grabbed the pack you had resting on the counter, grabbing for one of the contents. 

You rolled your eyes, hand out for one as well. “You wish. Answer the question.” 

He wiggled his eyebrows at you, tossing you the pack instead before lighting the cigarette. “Sharing a bed with you.? How could I turn that down.?”

“Ha. You get the couch, pervert.” You lit your own, rolling your eyes. The smoke in your lungs felt like heaven against your nerves. The thought of the man in front of you in your bed had your thoughts straying to a place they didn’t belong. 

His lips quipped up into a lazy grin. “We'll see, sweetheart.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, pointing the fingers holding the cigarette between the both of you. “We'll see nothing. You need to sleep and recover, I have work to do.”

“Working all night again.? Your fault if you work yourself into an early grave.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do me a favour and dress all ominous for my funeral. Make me look important.”

He chuckled at your remark. “Bold of you to assume I'd go.” 

“Bold of you to think you wouldn’t be devastated without me. At least the pull-out couch. Poor thing has given you a place to sleep for almost a year.” Part of you was teasing, the other was stuck on what he would actually do if you actually did croak. 

“It is a nice couch.” You watched the smoke roll slowly from his lips, wondering if it would taste different coming from him than your own stick. Your eyes widened at the thought. Where did that thought come from.?

He smiled lazily at you, like he knew your thoughts. “You know, legend has it that a kiss from a Siren can give you magical abilities. Breathing underwater,” He stepped closer to you, “Healing people,” another step, “Wonder if it’s the same with you.?” 

You scoffed at him, trying to control your racing heart rate ay how close he was now. You could feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. What was happening.? 

You swallowed hard, trying to remember how to breathe again. “I highly doubt I’m magical. Just cursed.”

“Cursed.?” His voice was lower, raspy, and anything but afraid. Shouldn’t he be terrified?

“You ever been overly high on adrenaline?” You tried to word this carefully.

He quirked an eyebrow at you amusingly. “I’m a pyromaniac, princess.”

“Imagine that feeling switched with lust. That’s what would happen if we ever swapped spit till the addictive in my saliva left your bloodstream. I could drive a person insane on their own sexual desires.” You wanted him to understand what would happen if he initiated what he was suggesting. It wouldn’t be pretty.

“You have your own built in aphrodisiac. Must be fun at parties.”

“Sure, if you like nursing the worst blue balls of your life just from kissing me.”

He grinned and you swore he was lying about not being a masochist. “Damn princess, that’s harsh. Their mistake though. They didn’t have the chance to fuck you.”

You tried to hide the dark blush slowly creeping up your face. “And you think you do?”

He cupped the side of your face, thumb slowly caressing your  cheek bone. :Oh, I think my chances are pretty high.”

You sighed, wanting so bad to give in when his breath hit your lips. He was so close. If you raised your head up slightly, your lips would meet his. When did we go from fighting and teasing to this?

You put a hand against his chest, forcefully creating a space you didn’t want, but knew you needed. “Dabi… I don’t do one-night stands. I’d rather keep you as a friend than a fuck buddy. It’s not just an aphrodisiac, it forces oxytocin in your blood stream so your overwhelmed in euphoria for me. I’m not going to force you inot something you don’t actually feel.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against your own. If you weren’t so nervous and dazed out of your mind, you might’ve noticed how bad he was shaking too.

“Who said I didn’t?” His voice was low, barely a whisper. If you hadn’t been so close you doubt you would’ve heard it.

“You said yourself this was just a business arrangement. You don’t care about anyone but you.” Your thoughts were spiraling. He was joking, right? There was no way-

“Think we both know if this was only business I wouldn’t give a damn about whether you ate or slept.” His blue eyes bore into your own, demanding your attention. He wasn’t lying. He never did. Could you actually bring yourself to believe it though?

“You don’t really mean that. You’re just caught up in the moment.” He had to be.

He sighed and pulled away from you, his hands retreating back into his pockets. His usual lazy grin making it’s way back to his face.

“Guess I’ll have to prove it to you then, doll.” He walked away from you, flopping himself on the couch. “You have any tea left?”

“Uh, yeah.” You walked to the kitchen to start the kettle, one thought repeatedly throwing itself around your mind.

Fuck. No. Why him? When did you start loving him too?

You glanced a peak back over to him. He was sprawled out, hair messily covering his eyes. He looked more comfortable than you had ever seen him. You felt your heart swell in pride at the thought.

Maybe… Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[qi-rong-enjoyer]

I posted 328 times in 2021

106 posts created (32%)

222 posts reblogged (68%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 2.1 posts.

I added 520 tags in 2021

#tgcf - 131 posts

#qi rong - 107 posts

#mdzs - 65 posts

#heaven official's blessing - 44 posts

#jiang cheng - 40 posts

#lang qianqiu - 29 posts

#tgcf fanart - 28 posts

#guzi - 27 posts

#xie lian - 27 posts

#wei wuxian - 22 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#it also reaffirms that his hero is worthy! but xl doesn’t talk to him still. their relationship was deteriorating for years. & he’s startin

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

I am eternally sad and disappointed that there aren't any big calamity meetings in tgcf canon because it would be so messy and horrible and dramatic.

u know bai wuxiang wouldn't show up at all bc the dude's basically a fucking cryptid, and even if he were there he'd probably just Stare Mencacingly at you and breathe creepily in someone's general direction, looming ominously over people's shoulders

and also, it'd be so funny because hua cheng and qi rong would be biting each other's heads off about xie lian, and he xuan, whose past is in no way tied to xie lian would just be sitting there wide eyed with a 'what the fuck is going on?? when can I go home?' kind of look to him. too confused and deciding it would be best not to ask who the hell xie lian is.

but when they're not at each other's throats and are having a rare moment of peace and friendliness I imagine their interactions would go something among the lines of

Hua Cheng: if i die my funeral's going to be the biggest fucking party and you're all invited

He Xuan: 'if'

Qi Rong: great, the only party i've ever been invited to and he might not even die

personally, I think we were robbed of this. it'd be pure and utter madness and id want to see it happen. id be sitting there with my fucking popcorn out, lounging on my fuckin beach chair, ready to watch shit go down.

139 notes • Posted 2021-07-02 06:02:51 GMT

#4

sometimes I forget that mu qing is like insanely fucking strong, mainly because he's often described as being very "pretty" and "graceful" and yet when we first hear about him, it's when we hear about him chopping a bell in half with a flick of his wrist.

also, iirc, the kind of saber he uses is a zhanmadao

which, as we can see, is a giant fuckoff weapon, and considering mu qing's level of strength, he could probably carry one around without effort. id shit my pants if I saw him coming at me with that fucking thing, holy hell.

162 notes • Posted 2021-09-04 04:52:38 GMT

#3

hello, it is officially spooky season, and you know what that means: an assortment of bullshit halloween headcanons.

• Ling Wen is the person who hands out floss and toothpaste to trick-or-treaters. Children abhor her, adults are mildly annoyed, because it's halloween, what the actual fuck Ling Wen. Nobody goes to her house for candy because of this and she can happily enjoy a night of peace. Unfortunately, her victory is short-lived.

• Shi Qingxuan is throwing the biggest fucking Halloween party, and everyone is invited. This predictably goes to shit when the house catches fire. Nobody's sure how it happened, or who did it. Shi Wudu is pissed. • He Xuan bought several bags of candy and put out exactly none of them for the trick-or-treaters. He bought that candy for himself, thank you very much, and he's going to gorge himself on it, because he deserves it, fuck you. Share? Him? Absolutely the fuck not.

• Mu Qing and Feng Xin are staying at home watching horror movies. Feng Xin gets scared easily, and the jumpscares spook him. Mu Qing, on the other hand, is having the time of his life, and he won't stop laughing, which does make Feng Xin feel less scared, since it's pretty hard to be scared when there's someone losing their shit right next you.

• Qi Rong and Lang Qianqiu go trick-or-treating with Guzi, who has somehow convinced them into getting matching costumes. Qi Rong would be proud of Guzi if what little dignity he had left wasn't at stake. Lang Qianqiu's brain is just filled with aol dialup noises. Guzi is the only person with the braincell right now.

• Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are staying in, but Xie Lian keeps getting up to give trick-or-treaters candy. Hua Cheng keeps whining and asking him to stay. He wants cuddles, dammit.

• Pei Ming managed to get Ling Wen and Shi Wudu to get out of their houses, and go with him. Yes, they are wearing matching costumes. Yes, they look ridiculous, but somehow, they've managed to make it look good.

• Yushi Huang always has the best candies in the neighborhood. Children crowd around her doorstep, hoping to get some actually good fucking treats from someone who won't try to scare them every time they come near (looking at you, Crimson Rain!)

181 notes • Posted 2021-10-01 19:57:01 GMT

#2

chengqing is very funny to me, because that means the two meanest and most intimidating people in the cultivation world are together, and have decided to make that everyone else's problem.

like, if they ever got married, you know those two would be the scariest (and best-dressed) couple at the sect conferences without even trying and everybody would be fucking terrified of them. sect leader yao wouldn't be able to talk between wen qing staring him down judgmentally like "mhm, how much longer are you going to make yourself look like an idiot?" and Jiang Cheng giving everyone his "I Am This Close To Throwing You Across The Room, So Kindly Shut Up Before I Lose My Restraint And Murder You" face.

282 notes • Posted 2021-09-25 20:45:27 GMT

#1

things about the drama that I will always love:

jiang cheng sword froggie

525 notes • Posted 2021-10-25 19:55:56 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[misscorn]

Day 6 Confession

Day 6 of @takaritsuweek 😄😄

***

Masamune stumbled into his apartment at a fresh 2:57 in the morning, completely exhausted, but relieved. One of his author's had had a nervous breakdown causing an issue with getting the manuscript and then once Masamune did finally get his hands on it he realized the author had been so reluctant because it was complete trash and then the printers were giving him a tough time and-

Masamune took a deep breath. It was fine. He got it done. He was the editor-in-chief of their department for a reason. There was no use stressing over it anymore. No, now was the time to let his exhaustion hit and allow himself to pass out on his bed.

It had been like this for the past few days now, Masamune coming home so late after a grueling day at the office. It wasn't even hellweek, no, instead it was just Masamune's own personal little hell made special just for him by whatever God or Goddess thought it was funny to mess with him. Not to mention all this trouble meant he hadn't gotten to see Ritsu outside of work recently, which pissed him off to no end. Hopefully it was finally over.

Only, there was one small, teeny tiny problem left.

His living room light was on.

Masamune knew for a fact that he did not leave his light on before he left for work. He wasn't so careless. Did he have an intruder in his home? Shit, he was too tired to deal with something like that.

Slowly and quietly, Masamune peeked around the corner and was shocked at the sight in front of him: Onodera Ritsu, on his couch, clearly focused as he made and reviewed edits.

'I must be so tired that I've started hallucinating.' Masamune thought to himself. Still, it was a nice hallucination. A life in which Masamume comes home to Ritsu after work is a life Masamune longs deeply for.

Masamune did give Ritsu a spare key in the past, but there was no way the brunette would ever actually use it. Right? Carefully, Masamune approached the Ritsu-mirage, not disturbing him out of his little work bubble until he reached forward to gently pinch his cheek.

Ritsu nearly leaped to his feet, smacking the hand away and pressing himself against the other end of the couch to get away from Masamune's touch. "You scared me!" He complained, placing a hand over his heart, feeling it race.

"You're real?" Masamune stared.

"Of course I'm real! What are you even talking about?" Ritsu huffed. "I came over earlier to ask you to review my edits, but you weren't here. Then I remembered you gave me a key and I decided to wait." Ritsu explained briefly. "...Are you mad that I used it?"

"No! Please, feel free to use it every single day. In fact, forget ever going to your apartment and just move in with me." Masamune said as he flopped on to the couch beside him.

"N-Now you're just speaking nonsense." Ritsu said, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the time. Maybe they could still go over some stuff before the two of them went to bed. However, Ritsu went wide-eyed at the time. "Three in the morning?! What are you doing coming home at three in the morning? It's not even hellweek, yet, moron!" Ritsu scolded. How had it gotten so late? Ritsu must have completely lost track of the time.

"Eh? What are you getting so worked up for?" Masamune yawned.

"Editor-in-chief or not, you still need to take care of yourself, which includes getting a proper amount of sleep! Did you even eat dinner?"

This felt wrong. These roles should definitely be reversed. The irony wasn't missed by Masamune.

"Aw, are you worried about me?" Masamune asked, his tone teasing, but instead of Ritsu blushing or quickly getting defensive and denying, the brunette frowned and crossed his arms.

"Of course I'm worried about you!" Ritsu said.

Masamune shrugged. "I'm fine, a few late nights at work never killed anybody."

"A few? How often have you been coming home this late?" Ritsu asked.

Masamune's tired brain tried to make sense of the timeline of these past couple days before he finally responded. "I think this is the fourth night." He said.

"Takano-san!" Ritsu exclaimed in a disapproving tone. Ritsu had thought that Masamune seemed a little out of it at work lately, but he hadn't been that worried since he trusted that if Masamune needed time off then he would take it. Obviously, he had been wrong.

"It's fine, it's fine, let me see your edits." Masamune said.

"Absolutely not." Ritsu stood and grabbed Masamune's hands, somehow managing to pull him up as well. "You are going to bed. Right now."

Masamune, irritable from his tiredness, made a sound of protest. "You're not my mother, Onodera. I can put myself to bed when I'm ready."

"Obviously you can't." Ritsu put his hands on his hips, narrowing his eyes at the taller man.

"Stop acting like you're the most responsible adult in the world and like you haven't literally worked yourself to the point of passing out. It's annoying and hypocritical."

"I know I'm not, I never said I was! And I'm seriously trying to get better at not overworking myself, so don't even throw that in my face." Ritsu said, starting to get equally as irritated.

"Why are you even really here?" Masamune asked, crossing his arms.

Ritsu was slightly taken aback by the question, hesitating for a moment before he spoke again. "I-I told you, I wanted you to review-"

"You would not have stuck around this long just for that. Yesterday you probably would've rather died than use that spare key I gave you. So why are you here? To nag me to death? To scold me like a child? I'm a grown man, Onodera, I don't need-"

"Why are you allowed to care about me, but I'm not allowed to care about you?!" Ritsu demanded, balling his hands into fists. "Why can you fuss over me and bandage me up when I'm clumsy? Why can you take care of me when I'm sick? Why can you be concerned about my well being, but I can't be concerned about yours without being annoying?! Isn't that part of what love is? Looking after one another? Why can you smother me to death with what you call 'lovey dovey' stuff, but I'm not allowed to love you back?! I love you, damn it, so let me!" He looked down, unable to maintain eye contact.

Masamune merely stood there, gaping at Ritsu's outburst and confession. "Ritsu, I..." He started, for once looking off balance and unsure.

"It's not fair. It's not fair if I'm the only one who has someone looking out for me." Ritsu said, a soft sniffle escaping him. "I want...I want to take care of you too. I want to be sure that you're okay, too. B-because I l-love you." He gripped the ends of his sleeves, using them to rub away some tears. So embarrassing...this was totally embarrassing. Mortifying, even. It was enough to make Ritsu want to quit his job, crawl into bed, and never come out from under the blanket.

Masamune stared, processing Ritsu's words as the brunette started to hurriedly gather his things. "S-Sorry for dropping by unannounced. I-I'll just go now." Ritsu said, quickly walking past Masamune, still trying not to burst into tears.

"Wait!" Masamune grabbed him by the wrist, not letting him get far. "You think I'm just gonna let you go after you say something like that? Idiot!" Masamune pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him and hugging him tightly both as apology and as a means to keep him there. "Don't go. Stay the night here." Masamune pleaded, giving his body a gentle squeeze. "I missed you."

"...I missed you too." Ritsu said softly. "That's why I came over." He admitted. "I...I just wanted to see you. I figured the edits would make as good as an excuse as any." He let his head fall against Masamune's chest.

"Say it again." Masamune requested, raking his fingers through Ritsu's hair.

"I wanted to see you."

"No. Tell me you love me again." Masamune began to tear up as the weight of Ritsu's words finally started to sink in.

Ritsu's shyness returned to him, his moment of courage over, but the sound Masamune's pounding heart was enough to make the brunette confess once more.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[genderfluidlucifer]

Response to being asked to give  an opinion on Connie’s calout by residentevil-4

(Tw: CSAM, rape fic, incest fic, predatory behavior, racism, ableism, kink mention, nsfw mentions. Minors should probably dni.)

“Connie and I know each other irl and went to school together for 3 years, although they now live in a different state and have cut contact with me. We went to a private therapy school in Manhattan as we're both disabled and were deemed unable to attend public school. Even though we were pretty close, Connie didn't like having photos taken of them, so I don't have any selfies of the two of us; however, these are from our sophomore and senior yearbooks which at least confirms that we were in the same year at school. People who have seen Connie's selfies should be able to confirm that that is what they look like. First and foremost, Connie is not TMA. They are intersex and the two of us have discussed intersex issues both in person and online, but they are still decidedly CAFAB.” Ok so first off, I want to address this part of the callout. To be honest...was it really necessary to literally doxx Connie ehre? Because this textbook definition of doxxing. Yes Connie’s done some shitty things but I freally don’t think that what they’ve done warrants this level of doxxing. Or...even better, any doxxing. This feels like a really unnecessary breach of privacy, revealing sensitive information on Connie’s childhood that they choose to confide in you with. I really don’t agree with this aspect of the callout as it feels very invasive and bordering on stalkerish.  Btw when I say bordering on stalkerish I’m not directly calling you a stalker Bonnie. Just so we’re clear. I am not defending Connie supposedly faking being TMA. Because faking being TMA is a very serious issue. HOWEVER since I don’t know Connie irl and to be quite frank it’s none of my business what the nature of their agab is. Were not close and I’m certainly not going to like lead Connie onto thinking we’re friends just to confirm this with them because that would be creepy. So to be honest I’m going to take this part of the callout with again of salt for now.

[ID: A cropped screenshot of a numbered list Connie posted to their blog hadrosaurs in response to an ask. 

“3. I’m TMA And that’s completely irrelevant. I’m not accusing them because of their gender I didn’t even know their gender when they said that to me saying that they said that because they fucking said that and the reaction to it was incredibly alarming. Don’t fucking say that stuff to people.]

I mean I”m not a trans woman so take this with a grain of salt if you want but...I don’t see how this is really proof of Connie being deliberately transmisogynistic? Yes Connie gives iffy retellings of mistakes they’ve made in the past. I’ve seen that on their blog before and I won’t pretend it doesn’t happen. BUT here they sound genuine enough and to be honest a growing issue I’ve seen with callouts as of late is. A person confirms they in fact did not do the thing they were called out for. And then the people who make the callout choose to see it as proof of incriminating behavior anyways. To be honest it’s a big problem and it’s also incredibly unfair to the person being called out. If you’re so determined at that point to see the person as bigoted no matter what they say then of course anything they say can be seen as proof. So I’m going to have to pass on this bit of evidence. “Connie responded: “Final note: I have spoken extensively with several trans women about using TMA to describe myself. I will not be getting into discourse about that on this blog again. All that leads to is people demanding my medical records and calling me slurs. If you wanna have a thoughtful conversation about it direct message me cause it’s not happening again here.” Again this really doesn’t seem all that self incriminating. Connie mentions here that they’ve talked to rl trans woman about whether or not they can be considered TMA. Connie really doesn’t have to disclose that personal information to people for any reason. Yes even when people are e including this ask response in a callout. And considering lots of people DO get invasive about Connie’s medical history ans general personal life over matters like this? I feel their reaction is pretty understandable here. “Connie has constantly compared “exclusionists” (or anyone, really) to TERFs, even when the people in question are not transmisogynistic, trans exclusionary radfems, or are even transmisogyny affected themselves.

“ Gonna have to disagree with this part of the callout too. Lots of ace inclus blogs, even some run by trans women , have proven that the ace exclus movement was started by swerfs/terfs. But the blog that has the most evidence for this is courteousmingler on tumblr. I suggest you check out that blog’s archiving of the history of ace exclus rhetoric before rushing to call me a transmisogynist for disagreeing with this part of the callout. I looked through all of the evidence for Connie being racist and tbh as a black ndn it all feels incredibly flimsy. It’d be one thing if Connie was using their experiences to derail and invalidate the discussions about how black people are oppressed But they weren’t doing that there at all. This part of the post feels incredibly biased. And like OP is looking for things to be mad about. Going to have to pass on this list of evidence. Also uh I seem to recall that residentevil04 got called out for some questionable behavior as well. “Both me (insepsy, hi) and ezrat have had really weird spikes in activity on our Statcounters, both on the same day. (Saturday, 4/17/21) For both of us, majority of the pages looked at by these visitors have been related to or about Connie, or have been posts that Connie would find "problematic" such as the f slur untagged or something related to "panphobia"/aphobia. I’m sorry but...none of the proof of cyberstalking holds any water. Visiting someone’s blogs and rbing posts to disagree with them is not cyberstalking. Keeping tabs on urls that an abusive person who has harassed are using so you can block them (in this case with kyoshi) and warn your mutuals is not stalking. As a victim of rl stalking it’s...really weird to call this legit stalking at all. Much less claim that you have damning proof of it being stalking when no such evidence exists in the callout. Besides after Connie and nonbinarydave called out one of kyoshi’s buddies for sending a death threat hate anon to nonbinarydave’s toddler st4lker partly admitted to doing it a few times. Then other mutuals in kyoshi’s toxic social circle clearly began joining in. Making side accounts where they tried to spin a false narrative of nonbinarydave’s daughter being one of their alters (ableist as hell.) And also trying to do it in such a way that they thought would trigger nonibnarydave’s psychosis (also ableist as hell.) If you’re going to drag Connie for their mistakes and never let them move on from those mistakes then it’s only fair to do that to people you agree with who also do toxic/bigoted things. ALso the fact that your wording here suggests that you think panphobia and aphobia aren’t real makes me doubt this claim even more. Exclus and their allies are notorious for mislabeling inclus disagreeing with them as stalking. “connie said that they would release that info at a later time and the minor began to argue with them that they had a responsibility regardless of their complicated relationship with age. in this argument connie for a time kept their age ambiguous and at one point told the minor (who confirmed in a later ask that they were severely traumatized by adults) that they obviously weren’t traumatized. connie quickly deleted this ask and any mentions of it and the next post they reblogged was about how wrong it was to try and quantify or discount others’ trauma. on my old blog i @ed them in the replies and asked if they had just done that. connie admitted to it and said it was fucked up but quickly blocked + deleted my comment. i can’t remember whether or not connie apologized to the minor, they may have? but yeah. i thought that was pretty weird.”] I do agree with some of the concern here that adults shouldn’t over expose minors in discourse. I’ve been contemplating this for awhile myself. And trying to figure out how to take better steps to avoid including minors who are triggered by discourse in discourse, especially. HOWEVER I have one little issue with this addition to the callout. If that is the case then exclus and their allies need to practice this as well. You cannot ignore the fact that the reason a lot of minors are getting involved in exclus discourse is due to adult exclus and their allies forcing minors to pick a side in the discourse. Y’all are not at all exempt from this problem. I still remember an ex mutual of mine trying to convince a minor to agree that aces can’t face corrective rape. And based on how aggressive it got with me when I tried to avoid giving an opinion on the matter, I can’t imagine that it would’ve reacted better to the minor refusing to give an opinion or to the minor outright disagreed. Refusing to put these standards on exclus and their allies is both hypocritical and quite frankly very transparent. The claims about them glorifying dark topics on AO3 through their fics also seems unfortunately legit. I mean those asks of shaming people who ask their viewers to not romanticize or glorify abusive relationships in their works is very damning. I’m very disappointed to see that Connie has taken being an inclus to the point of validating antis anti culture wholeheartedly. I can’t think of much more to add to my opinion on that part of the callout. As for the issue of Connie interacting with pro shippers in the past, I do know that this claim is legit. I’ve seen it before and so has Breeze. This was why for a brief time we decided to stop following their blogs. Because it was triggering to have pro shippers put on our dash. And sometimes we just don’t feel it’s worth it to always let people we’re platforming know they’re rbing triggering stuff. So sometimes we just quietly unfollow and choose to not interact until we’re sure they’re filtering what they do and don’t rb in some way. I definitely don’t agree with that behavior. And if they’re still doing that I”ll deplatform again. “The anon asks: “A weird question but do you know any other stimboard blogs with your follow criteria? (No radfems, racists, fandom antis, etc.) I was hoping to find more through your “similar blogs” but a lot have no anti-antis for their DNI or allow truscum/transmeds and exclus. :(“

The user responds: “I know of @turtle-pond-stims, @outofangband, and @kinaesthetics! 🍂🍄" “[ID: A cropped screenshot of an ask sent by Connie from their now-deactivated blog, butch-with-a-tortoise.

Connie says: “hey anon I have safe stim blogs. dm me if you want them. And radfems/bigots aren’t allowed to interact. For my own safety (because the community is honestly terrifying) I can’t publicly say on my blogs that I’m safe for proshippers/kinky people but I try to spread word how I can.”] [ID: Screenshot of a post by evilwriter37, which reads, “I’ve been seeing posts about fandom police leaving ao3, and it’s like: Good. We don’t want you here anyway. Go find your own fanfiction site.”

The post is tagged “#Fandom #AO3 #Antis #Purity Culture” and has 87 notes. It was posted on December 21st, 2020.

There is a reply from main-to-outofangband-andothers saying: “there are Silm antis on that site who are against Russigon (Maedhros and Fingon) not because they’re cousins but because they’re both male (coded)”] [ID: A screenshot of an anonymous (though signed off as being from outofangband) ask sent to evilwriter37, which says, “Melkor and Viggo solidarity is ‘Look there’s nothing wrong with keeping my enemy chained up in my personal chambers at all times so please just focus on the war efforts and I’ll focus on the boy* in my chambers’ -@outofbangand.

*boy used figuratively @ antis”

The user responds: “Pfft!!! Hahaha! You’re absolutely right! (And Viggo does refer to Hiccup in canon as ‘my boy’).”] I can’t really say anything to refute this. Because these are all posts of Connie outright stating that they disagree with antis. And not only sympathize with anti antis but are fully against antis. Looks like very damning evidence. Although ngl I’m not entirely against kinky blogs as a whole? Just so long as they truly stay in their lane with their kink content. And don’t force it on others in any way. Or shame people who are triggered by their kinks. It is true that being entirely against kinky blogs no matter what is dipping your toes into swerf rhetoric. Tbh I’m not going to look at the rest. This is pretty much all I need to make a decision on whether or not I”ll continue platforming Connie. Though I will try to get some more  perspective from people who I interact with as well. Because I feel better about making a more definitive decision after doing that. Also in general please don’t not try to get an opinion from me on how I feel about syscourse. A lot of the claims about Connie’s age weirdness and them using their alters as a shield feel like syscourse to me. Especially if this callout was written by one or several singlets. Singlets should never be trying to judge how legit someone’s system is ever. Even if their system friends encourage them to. You can call out a horrible person with a system without trying to insinuate that they’re lying about their alters in some way. Doing otherwise is ableist ESPECIALLY if you’re a singlet. Also in general the reason I stay out of discussions of judging how someone is handling their systems is because it’s syscourse and syscourse is triggering for my system and I. If this post was an attempt to get me to give an opinion  on the validity of Connie’s system I don’t appreciate it. And I would appreciate not being dragged into such matters again, thank you.

In general there’s like a few parts of this callout that feel legit. Which is unfortunately cluttered with obvious bias and obsessive hatred of Connie. I’m not here to stan or coddle Connie. I know they are not a perfect person. Especially since no human being in the world is perfect. But I feel the way this callout was created was very sloppy since a lot of the evidence was messy at best. And some points were very hypocritical as well as there being some no true scotsman moments from OP. In acting like exclus never do any of the thing that they tried to call out Connie for. Which is behavior that I am not a fan of. This is why people need to be more careful about callouts and like make roughdrafts and have a more unbiased person helping them if they don’t feel they can do it on their own. I’m even trying to make a resolve to do better at that myself. So it’s not like I’m unwilling to put my money where my mouth is. Anyways those are all my thoughts on this messy callout. And tbh I’m not going to get too much more heavily involved in this. Because I need to focus on more immediately serious rl stuff more often, like doing what I can to get out of the hellish landscape of a house I currently am stuck in.