#my brain is screaming at me to get it out of my brain

[danaan13]

After the doctors had left for the evening, and the only ones around were the night nurses, I leaned to the side to peer out of the room door. No one in sight. I burrowed down under my covers and cupped my hands together. Inside the bowl shape my hands made, a tiny magic light bloomed. I let the spell go. And I settled back in bed with a very thoughtful frown.

I could still do magic. What the hell?

When I'd said something about it to the doctor earlier, he ordered tests to check my senses and my brain. He suggested that I'd probably just been eating some wild plant that gave me hallucinations.

I looked at the clawed scars on my right arm. No. Pretty sure I hadn't been hallucinating. What the hell?

I rubbed my eyes. I wasn't sure what to do. Could I go back to being normal after this?

When I dropped my hand back to my lap and opened my eyes, there was a tiny old man sitting in a chair next to my bed. I yelped in surprise and he just smiled. "My apologies. But please... remain calm. We don't want the nurses getting suspicious."

I frowned and said. "Who are you? How did... Where did you come from? That chair was not here before!"

The man nodded. "And it won't be here when I'm gone. My name is Francis. I'm from the Narnoona Association. As for the how... Magic. Like what you just hid under the blanket a minute ago."

I scowled at him and muttered, "Narnia? Really?"

He laughed. "Narn-oo-na. Similar. But not the same. C.S. Lewis had some pretty similar ideas. But no. We're been around longer."

The man crossed his legs and smiled quietly again. "In short, we're a group that tracks and maintains access to portions of our world, where magic coalesces and thrives. I'm sure you're imaginative enough to know how wrecked modern society would be if magic got out. Especially uncontrolled."

I scowled a bit more. "You mean how wrecked capitalism would be."

The man grimaced then and nodded. "Well... that too. I was actually referring to the part where people who shouldn't have power would use it to make things worse for those who are too tired to fight back, because of current socio-economic circumstances."

He looked up at me then, eyes seeming to read right through me. "Though, based on your statement, perhaps you're more suited for our sister organization. Yes... I think so."

He stood up then and tapped the chair. Which then completely disappeared, as if it had never been there at all. He smiled at me again. "Expect a visitor in the morning. She'll introduce herself as your Aunt Katy. Go along with it. You won't regret it."

He winked and then turned around. And disappeared. Like the chair.

What the hell?

I fumed and ruminated on this for a bit. Until exhaustion won and I fell asleep. I told no one, when the next morning came around. It's not like they'd believe me.

And surely enough, about midmorning, a nurse bounced right into my room with a bright smile. "Guess what! We found a member of your family! Your Aunt Katy is here to take you home!"

Behind the nurse, a tall amazon of a woman strode in. She wore the sharpest, sleekest black suit dress I'd ever seen walk off an Armani runway. Perfectly pinned hair, bright red lipstick, and a vibe that screamed Professional.

Professional what? Hell, if I know. But I felt that everyone must believe every word that ever came out of her mouth.

I put on a quick smile. "Aunt Katy? Wow... That was fast!"

Katy somehow became motherly, as she swept forward and hugged me. "Oh it's really you! We were so worried. Well... don't you fear. We'll have you home and sorted today. I promise!"

The nurse beamed and said, "I'll go start the paperwork!"

And then we were alone. The aura of masks seemed to slip from Katy just a little. Her smile relaxed. "I'm Katherine, from The Odyssey Corps. Francis notified me that you'd be a fit for us. He also mentioned he didn't really explain anything. Don't worry. He's just a mischievous fucker like that. I'll read you in once we're somewhere secure. But for now... Trust me. It's not as bad as you think. If you're even half as powerful as Francis said, we'll finally be able to move on certain figures."

I just nodded.

At this point, the nurse came back with a clipboard for "Aunt Katy". She looked it over and then signed it. "Alright, sweetheart. Let's get you home!" she chirped, before handing me a bag with clean clothes.

Very expensive clean clothes. I quickly smiled and went to get dressed.

Why did the island with the demons seem less scary now?

What the hell?

You're in a hospital after surviving for 3 years in the wilderness. What a way to find out that plane crash didn't isekai you. Once everything settles down, you begin to wonder... If this wasn't another world, how are you able to use magic now, and why did that island have demon beasts?

[kyri45]

Can you do another q&a

Sure thing

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 18/02✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@snsp6 ha chiesto: Don’t know if this was answered but what was the inspiration for bio parents au??

no inspiration. just my stupid brain not being able to like something without taking my whole life.

@roseltelle ha chiesto: Are you ok with AUs I was thinking about writing a fanfic. Basically with a younger Mk. Events of the show haven't happened yet, Wukong and Macaque aren't on ok terms yet (Slow Burn) unlike the show.

I don't think I understood. You're asking if you can do an AU of my AU?

@mistress-of-nightmares ha chiesto:YOU MENTIONED YOU HAD MK'S FINAL OUTFIT READY SINCE LIKE SUMMER, IS IT GOING TO BE THIS PRINCE-RELATED THEMED??? (sorry for all caps it just came to me and I screamed)

that's not the only one I already had in mind.

@shaya21 ha chiesto: Hey kyri I have a question maybe that was already ask and you answer it, so sorry if you did but does macaque, wukong and mk purr in your au ? When they are really relaxed and with someone they trust, like mk when he fall asleep in redson arm in the last chapter. That’s all And thanks you for making such a good au, that’s something I really appreciate (my life his based on😅)

No I don't think they purr.

@mysticanchorcheesecake ha chiesto: I just wanted to say.. I LOVEEE UR ART AKCIFdkfkdKckd!!! *Calms down mentaly* i a HUGE fan of ur parenting au.. thats it luv u ^^

Thank youu!!!!

@kilani-123 ha chiesto:Does Mk know that Wukong and Macaque are still engaged?👀

no

@deafeningcolortastemaker ha chiesto: Hi Kyri45!!!I have a little question for you and for Spicynoodleshipping.....WILL THERE BE MORE MK AND RED SON KISSED???I'm very worried. I really love spicynoodleshipping, and I would like you to release some pictures of spicynoodleshipping more often.😆 Well, good night to me, since it's 11 pm in Russia.Well, good! It's time for me to sleep, until the next Kyri45 meeting!!!

yes

@angelsbunnies ha chiesto: Was MK freaking out when he got sucked back cause he couldn’t finish adding more details to his little doodle?

poor baby yes he was.

@metalheaded-freak ha chiesto: Kyri, I just wanted to say… thank you, for creating the Bio Parents Au, it’s been such an emotional journey and honestly? If it wasn’t for you then I wouldn’t have gotten into the fandom the way I did. I guess what I’m trying to say is, you were the gateway for me to fully embrace this fandom and not be afraid to show what I do, so once again thank you!

awww tysm!!!

@ddle-lrd ha chiesto: GELLO (help gello lol) IM A HUGE FAN OF YOUR SHADOWPEACH BIO PARENTS AU AND CURRENTLY TAKE YOUR ART COURSE! I really wanted to know if the series will (unfortunately and reasonably) come to an end? Will S9 be the last or second last? (Like before the last season) Again, big fan and big supporter of your art even though i can’t support you financially besides the art course -L0S :))))

Awww tysm for all the support!

Also yes the Part 9 is the last part of the main story.

@peachy-pies-random-stuff ha chiesto: Hi Kyri! Me and my partner have been reading the Shadowpeach bio parents AU together and we're both addicted to it! Also the thing you said about writing uncharted territories..... Should we all be worried??? 🤨🤨🤨

I mean.... yes and no?

@land-of-frogs-and-dragons ha chiesto: Your monkie kid au is gonna get me to watch Lego monkie kid ngl,,,, saw your au on TikTok and went "oh I can't NOT watch this" and haven't regretted it since. 10/10 I love your art style and you draw mk's hair so fluffie I love everything about your art style and your au

thank you! heheh he has fluffy hair.

@pensoul2 ha chiesto: I was looking back at the LMK Bio AU and Redson's hair. His hair got me wondering if he ever tried cutting it. Would the scissors or the object cut his hair melt?

omg I want to believe that yes, if his hair is too hot it would melt the scissor. But I also like to think that they aren't really made of hair. It's they fluctuate between solid and plasma.

@shaya21 ha chiesto: Hiiiiiii I wanted to ask, you drew redson in bloom outfit from Winx. Do you think you can do macaque in musa outfit ? Oh and thanks for your amazing shadowpeach bio parents au it's amazing

@mysticewya already did the whole wix club team as LMK character, you should check them out.

@onyxxess ha chiesto:hiii!! ive been a fan of your artwork for a whole, esp the shadowpeach bio parent au. theres one thing i havent been clarified withCan we make edits of your art and post it on other socials like tik tok or insta?? (with creds)i would really love editing your artwork!

Yes you can. with credit. I'm both "kyri45" on IG and TT

@misagiiza ha chiesto: Hi Kyri45! My name is Izadora and I'm a huge fan of yours. I'm Brazilian and would love to translate your comic so other people could have the opportunity to know your talent!

Thanks, Iza.

Hello Izadora, there's already user "wukong_lmk" on TikTok that's doing the brazillian translation

@twilight-bai-he ha chiesto: Will we see a dance party in the celestial realm lol 😆🩷🩷😊

yup

hellopollon ha chiesto: Wait, so Macaque's scroll is close to theirs too or...?

Yup!

@mkthemonkiekiddd ha chiesto: Have you ever thought about doing different lmk AU’s after the current AU youre working on? (Like for example, infection AU, swap Au, etc.)

mm nope. I prefer to keep building on what I've already created

@whatdaflippityfloppity ha chiesto: I absolutely adore your comics and the way you draw Nezha! (He's my favourite character and needs more screen time and ✨angst✨ T-T) Quick question; Is Nezha ever going to rebel against his father? 🥺 Maybe to like, stop his father from using the pagoda or something?

he did it in the past multiple times he will most likely do it again

[dulcescorderitas]

omg the tramp stamp fic. i need to be sedated. thinking about a part 2 where dean is hitting it from behind and can’t keep his eyes off the tattoo

notes: purr

the first time had been a revelation. the second time was an obsession.

dean wasn’t the kind of man to get fixated, but there was something about the inked letters of his name stretching and shifting over the curve of your ass as he drove into you that rewired his brain. he couldn’t stop staring. couldn’t stop thinking about it.

and now, with you on all fours in front of him, your back arched just enough to emphasize the tattoo, he was well and truly fucked.

his fingers ghosted over the ink, reverent. “you really did this,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “really put my name right here.”

you turned your head to glance at him over your shoulder, teasing. “told you, dean. i belong to you.”

dean let out a rough groan, hands flexing over the soft flesh of your hips before he smacked your ass—hard. the sound cracked through the room, your gasp swallowed by the filthy chuckle he let out. his palm lingered over the tattoo, tracing each letter, as his cock throbbed against your soaked folds.

“Goddamn, sweetheart. you’re gonna kill me,” he gritted out, shifting his hips just enough to tease you. the head of his cock brushed against your entrance, your body clenching around nothing, desperate for more.

“dean, please,” you whimpered, pushing back against him.

“yeah?” his voice was thick with hunger, fingers digging into your hips. “you want me to fuck you, baby? want me to ruin this perfect little pussy while you wear my name like a damn brand?”

you moaned, the sheer filth of his words making heat coil low in your stomach. “yes. yes, i need it.”

dean exhaled sharply, his restraint snapping like a live wire. without warning, he thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in one swift motion. your cry was caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan, your fingers curling into the sheets as he set a ruthless pace.

his hands gripped your waist like a vice, dragging you back onto his cock with every brutal thrust. but his eyes—his Goddamn eyes—never left the ink on your skin, watching it flex and stretch as he pounded into you.

“look at that,” he groaned, voice wrecked. one hand slid up your spine before fisting into your hair, yanking your head back just enough to keep you arching for him. “my fucking name. right on your ass. you know what that does to me, baby?”

you gasped, back bowing under the pressure of his grip. “tell me,” you breathed, desperate for anything, everything.

dean let out a wrecked chuckle before slamming his hips forward with a force that had you keening. “makes me wanna keep you like this. on your knees, dripping for me, taking me so well.”

his free hand came down on your ass again, right over the ink, the sharp sting mixing deliciously with the overwhelming pleasure. “you’re mine,” he rasped, voice ragged. “every fucking inch of you. say it.”

“i’m yours,” you gasped, the words spilling from your lips before he even finished asking. “God, dean, i’m yours.”

dean groaned, the sound ripped from his chest like it physically pained him to hold back. his thrusts turned brutal, relentless, his fingers leaving bruises in their wake. “that’s right, sweetheart,” he muttered, leaning down to press a scorching kiss between your shoulder blades, never once slowing his pace. “mine to fuck. mine to ruin.”

you clenched around him, the coil of heat deep in your belly tightening with every punishing snap of his hips. you were so close, so fucking close—

and then he reached down, fingers finding your clit with devastating precision, rubbing tight circles that had you shattering. your body convulsed around him, pleasure detonating through your veins as you screamed his name, nails clawing at the sheets.

dean followed a heartbeat later, his rhythm stuttering as he spilled inside you, burying himself to the hilt as he groaned against the sweat-dampened skin of your shoulder. his fingers flexed over your hip, still tracing the letters inked there, branding you in more ways than one.

for a long moment, the only sound in the room was the ragged pull of your breaths. then, finally, dean let out a shaky chuckle, pressing a lazy kiss to your spine.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he murmured, still catching his breath. “i don’t know if i should be thanking the tattoo artist or warning them to never fucking touch you again.”

you huffed out a breathless laugh, twisting slightly to glance at him. “i think you just did.”

dean grinned against your skin, nipping lightly at your shoulder before pulling you against him, still buried deep inside you. his fingers traced the ink once more, slow and deliberate, before he whispered, low and possessive:

“my name looks real fucking good on you.”

tags:@soldiersgirl @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @cherrygirlfriend @figthoughts @sunsbaby @ambiguous-avery @bocadelinfierno @sunnyteume

[bullet-prooflove]

Allen's Bar - Jake Seresin x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @calirindo @alisbackalleybbq @djs8891

Companion piece to:

The Other Family - Jake didn't realise his father was still alive...

Surreal - You locate Jake after he disappears.

Break Your Heart - Jake's heart is broken in the aftermath of his father.

What Did You Do - You discover an injured Jake on your porch.

You’re sitting in the waiting room at the hospital with Beau’s wife Ally, when the notifications start chiming on Jake’s phone. You ignore them at first but they keep coming one after the other until you pick up the device and that’s when you see the charges on his banking app.

All from Allen’s Bar...

The amounts, they’re small, incremental, the price of a single drink, something top shelf and they’re all from the past couple of hours. A time frame that's impossible because Jake’s been in surgery since he got here, they’re trying to release the swelling in his brain from his head injury. You sift through the pockets of Jake’s flight jacket, the one you have resting in your lap but his wallet, it’s definitely missing.

“I need to be somewhere.” You say distractedly to Ally as you tuck both phones into your own coat. “Can you call me if he gets out before I’m back?”

“Of course but where-”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” You say handing her the flight jacket.

You Uber to Allen’s Bar. There’s this feeling in your chest, this rage building inside you because you think you know what happened last night, who it was that Jake went to see.

You find him sitting on a stool at the end of the bar, the man whose house you found Jake sitting outside last night, the one who sold him for meth all those years ago.

That fury it burns like the fires of hell as soon as you lay eyes on him, Jake’s wallet resting haphazardly on the bar.

You don’t even know what you’re doing until he hits the deck, pain radiates through your fist as you stare down at him, blood jetting from his nose. He’s scrambling to his feet, screaming at you but you don’t hear it because all you can thinking about is the bruising on Jake’s face, the other injuries they found underneath his clothes.

You thought it had been a fight at first but it was a beating, one that had resulted in fractured ribs and internal bleeding they’d just about managed to get under control before the craniotomy. There’d been defensive wounds but none offensive because even after all this time Jake still couldn’t raise his hand to the man who betrayed him.

“What the fuck?!”

“You beat the shit out of your son and then took his wallet.” You hear yourself shouting. “What kind of heartless asshole are you?”

“What are you his fucking wife? You have no fucking right-”

You hit him again, a rapid jab to the nose that has him howling like a banshee.

“You put your son in the fucking hospital-”

“You think I want my old life accosting me when I take out the trash, whining about how I gave him up?” Jake’s father rallies, snatching up the napkins on the bar and clasping them to his bloody nose. “I have a wife now! A family now! I don’t want him, I never wanted him!”  He shakes his head, his voice muffled. “But that kid, that fucking kid, he just didn’t get the message.”

“So you made sure he did?” Your voice breaking because you can not imagine how Jake must have felt in that moment. “And then you decided to take yourself off for a drink on his dime?”

“I figured he owed me a little something for all the trouble.” He says, pulling the tissue away, the bleedings slowed now, a trickle as opposed to a flood “For trying to fuck up my life.”

“You didn’t deserve him then and you certainly don’t deserve him now.” You respond, the sound of a siren echoing outside the shabby little bar.

“That’ll be your ride.” He tells you, tossing the tissue onto the bar. “And trust me I’ll most certainly be pressing charges.”

“They’re not just here for me asshole.” You tell him, pulling your phone out of your pocket, pausing the recording you’ve just made of your conversation. “They’re here for you too.”

Love Jake? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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[morbid-archive-com]

△Shifting ask game: with Frank⋆˚࿔

⋆˚— What was your first dr? : i know it's cringe but i have to be honest, lt was MHA, i was a very cringy loser kid back in 2020 and watched way too much anime. And for why i switched it: it took a long time but i realized how much o didn't want to be a pro hero and how toxic that dr was. Now my main dr is dead by daylight (my fav game!) and this band dr i really love.

⋆˚— Here my name is Frank Morrison... I stole it! (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) I just didn't have more ideas for names and decided to take one from a fictional character from my dbd dr.

⋆˚— The garage! Just kidding, i stay with my band member in his house but he forgot to tell his parents, his mom saw me on the garage taking a nap and started hitting me with a broom! ರ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ರ

⋆˚— For edits well, it's 2005 so we got AMVs of our songs, clips from concerts going viral and glittery pfp's of my band members. Also stamps and blinkies people use in Myspace about our band! The fandom is pretty chill, mostly people getting wasted and doing pot or teens who hate their parents.

⋆˚— aaw the outfit of the day! I love that part.

well we have alternatives, being a teen fashion icon by the time looks so good.

⋆˚— free time is all the time, if you think about it... Anyways, just hang out with the guys, writing some lyrics or getting in trouble! Setting fire to cop cars is always an option! (I'm joking-not joking)

⋆˚— My non-native english suffered this one... But i think it means like my comfiest and safe dr that feels like a home. Well it's my alt future dr: already 35, life solved, millionare scientist and married to a beautiful husband. It's just the greatest dr i could have.

⋆˚— Punk band dr: 4 junkies with guittars play like shit and go famous.

⋆˚— My brain just spits ideas like a maniac and i make a pinterest board... Everything is in my braing or in notion written down.

⋆˚— i made a post once about it: i met Lu on highschool, Kristen is my mutual on Myspace and Dan works part time at a videoclub i always go to.

⋆˚— family?... what family? you guys scripted a family? The problem is that i didn't have any ideas for parents and it would be a problem for me so i scripted i was an orphan. This is very common so don't act like i'm weird.

⋆˚— the funniest scenario definitely was a my first awarding, i was so out of place between big artists from the time and i was just a little high so i fell asleep. Can you imagine waking up from a nap with your friends screaming and shaking like crazy, spotlights shining on you and a bunch of applause? I genuinely screamed "ALIENS?"... Anyways that was such a cool week, like having 5 star hotels, meeting a lot of people, getting out of jersey to visit Los angeles was something incredible as just a garage band.

⋆˚— Kristens brother, our manager and promoter. Like dude can you not frown and stare at me with hate for once?!? I just had a few shots, definitely not a whole bottle of vodka.

⋆˚— It's a Myspace blog named "The mischief booknote" i just post stuff about music and rebel shit i do for fun, also listing my 46 commited crimes and adding more everytime. Cause setting stuff on fire is cool when you're a teen.

That was fun!!! Thanks for this Asking game @solstices-dreams

ᓚᘏᗢ﹐𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞. ⁞ ˎˊ˗

shifting ask game reblog for asks ↻ ‧₊˚.

i’m bored so here’s another ask game, i’ll try to ask to everyone who reblogs, as long as tumblr isn't too glitchy, but feel free to send asks to others

— 💡 : what was your first dr and what is currently your main dr? How and why have you made this switch?

— 🏷 : what is your name for your dr and why is that your name?

— 👜 : what’s your house look like? Do you have any roommates or people who live with you? What’s your favorite aspect of your house and why?

— 🎞 : what edits of you would there be in your dr? what is your fandom like?

— 🩰 : what is your OOTD (outfit of the day) for a dr and why?

— 🏛️ : what do you do in your free time? Who are you with? Where do you go?

— 🗝 : what is your most niche dr and why did you make it?

— 📜 : summarize your dr in a sentence

— 🧳 : what is your favorite way to script and share your favorite dr script

— ♟ : who’s in your friend group and how did you make this friend group?

— 🕰 : what’s your family like? Who’s your favorite person and what are your relationships with your different members?

— 🎻 : what is a fun scenario you have scripted and you excited for? (be detailed! :)

— 💼 : who is someone you don’t get a long with in your dr? Why?

— 🍨 : what are your socials like in your dr? Followers? Username? What do you post?

[oh-god-a-four]

okay so 30yo virgin helena eagan.

she was raised in a fundamentalist religion-adjacent cult. we know this but like… that can fuck you up. that kind of thinking paints actions and people as good or evil with absolutely no nuance, and you’re taught to accept that what you’re told is the way things are. and if you engage with anything evil to any extent, you are deeply shamed and over time that builds and it lives in you for YEARS. so you get to whatever age and learn about sex and you’re told it’s only for procreation with a spouse, otherwise it’s a sin. PLEASURE is a sin. and you keep hearing that repeated throughout your key developmental years until it’s burned into your brain. it IS an escapable mindset if someone is pushed to question it, but I highly doubt helena eagan, the heir to the eagan throne and likely attending some kind of eagan boarding school for girls, was questioning it. and the guilt and shame and the repenting that comes with that is awful. the break room torture the innies do? that to me is essentially reciting the rosary or some other long catholic prayer cycle that says nothing of substance but succeeds in making you feel like shit. and you avoid those feelings by avoiding the sins at all costs and repressing the hell out of any desires. and helena is SO repressed. the way she watches the security footage of helly kissing mark outside the elevator screams repression to me bc she’s suddenly feeling this spark of desire and jealousy (also a sin) and she doesn’t know how to cope.

also. her total lack of bodily autonomy that I know we’ve discussed a million different ways. well this is another one of them! and I could argue that helena finding some rando to fuck would be a good way to take back her bodily autonomy but again, I dunno if miss ceo-to-be ever had that mindset. I don’t know if she even knew she was CAPABLE of that mindset until she saw helly try to take control of her body over and over via self-harm. also the fundamentalist idea that you need to “save yourself” for a future spouse as if you belong to someone who might not even exist. or another way I was taught to view it: you have to save yourself for god. and helena has to save herself for kier. AND. if helena hooked up with someone and got pregnant? then her body becomes a vessel for yet another eagan that will be just as controlled as she is.

in short: helena eagan I’m sorry you had to take over your innie’s body just to get your rocks off but I get why you did it ig

my credentials: raised catholic (in a weird way), now live and work in an even more catholic town, spent 11 of the last 13 years in therapy (largely to do with how catholicism fucked me up), love to project

[boo-hoo-hooligan]

me when i regret my vator

[onlyquinns]

pair: m. kesselring x reader, fluff

content: you get your wisdom teeth pulled and your boyfriend, michael, is there when you wake up, even though you’re fairly convinced he’s not actually your boyfriend. minor swearing.

you weren’t sure what you were signing up for when you first entered the dental clinic, only knowing of the check up and cleaning you’d scheduled. but weeks later, when you’re laying back in a leather dentist chair, high out of you’re mind, you regret making the initial appointment. getting your wisdom teeth—all four at the same time—removed was no easy feat.

your head feels heavy, everything in the little room too bright and blinding for your bleary eyes. the smell of fluoride leaves a tang in your dry mouth, your cheeks aching and stuffed with far too much gauze. michael sits next to you, a large palm pressed to his lips to muffle his overjoyed laughter and his phone in his other hand.

“how are you feeling, sweetheart?” a dental assistant asks you, situating your reclined seat back into its upright position with a press of a button. she holds a paper cup filled with cold water in an outstretched hand, blue latex gloves muddled against the garishly colored flower print.

“oh, my god!” you cry out, albeit a little muffled, throwing your arms forward. “it’s going to crush me!” you flail your feet, forgetting that you’re capable of standing and hopping out of the seat on your own. “make it stop, woman!”

michael laughs loudly, chuckle filling the room and causing his phone to shake as it records your outburst. “baby, it’s not going to crush you!” he tells you through wheezy breaths. “see! it stopped!”

you’re wide eyed and staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. “who are you?” you ask, throwing up an accusatory finger. “you’re—you’re not my mom! my mom is supposed to be here!” your lip wobbles and michael catches a glimpse of the bloodied gauze in your mouth, “she left me,” you murmur to yourself, dry lips sticking with each word.

“no, no, sweetheart,” the dental assistant says gently, pressing the cup of cold water into your palm. “your mom stepped out for a second, this is michael—remember?”

you turn your head and look at her, jaw slightly slack and breathing heavily through your mouth. “that’s not michael,” you tell her seriously. the lady’s brow furrows just slightly, concerned she might’ve brought in the wrong boy.

“no, baby, i am!” michael interrupts, assuring the lady that he actually is your boyfriend. she gives him a polite smile and leaves the room, her tone soft as she says her goodbyes.

you turn back toward him, brows scrunched together as you scrutinize his appearance. your head gives you straight thoughts, telling you that this actually is michael. “uh… okaaay,” you say, unconvinced even though your brain screams that you’re definitely talking to your boyfriend. “then say something about me, supposed michael.” you say his name in a questioning tone, arms raising to make air quotes.

michael watches you pout in your chair, cheeks rounded like a chipmunk and your eyes narrowed as if you’ve caught him. “okay,” he says, “i know that you’re probably wearing your spongebob boxers right now—the ones you wear for good luck.”

he watches as you quickly pull at the waistband of your sweats and gasp at the sight of your underwear—spongebob boxers like he’d said. your cheeks heat with embarrassment as you let go of your pants with a snap, “if you really loved me you wouldn’t have said that!” you say indignantly, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

michael chuckles at your outburst, standing up when your dentist pokes his head in into your room and gives you the go ahead to leave. “baby, you asked me to prove myself,” he says softly, helping you out of the leather chair and letting you press your entire body into his.

as he walks you through the hallways and into the small waiting room, you’re fully leaning into michael, head tilted up to watch his face as he walks you to his car with a look of determination. your eyes are practically shaped like giant hearts, fingers gripping tightly to his tee that the collar is pulled down to reveal his collarbones and a fading hickey. you think you’re drooling at the sight of him—or because of the cotton gauze in your mouth—your dazed brain isn’t really sure.

the afternoon sunlight casts overs michael’s face in a soft glow as he pulls open the passenger door for you. he doesn’t let you even attempt to get inside on your own in your current state, practically lifting you into his arms and placing you inside the warm vehicle. he leans down and pulls the seatbelt across your lap, buckling you in with a soft click and a kiss to the crown of your head.

“so,” michael says when he settles into the driver side, hands fumbling with his keys before bringing the car to life, “where we going, baby?”

your brain slowly registers his question, mouth agape as you look at him. he laughs at your expression and runs a hand through his hair.

“i dunno,” you finally say with a comical shrug. “anywhere with you.” you give him a crooked and dopey smile, the bloody cotton visible for a split second inside your stuffed cheeks.

michael smiles to himself, head bowed for a quiet moment before he sets his phone up in its stand, the bluetooth already connected and playing your favorite song at a comfortable volume. you give a delayed gasp and sing along with your slurred words. michael looks over at you and his smile widens, cheek warming at the sight of you.

“you’re gorgeous, you know that?” he says gently at a red light and you roll your eyes, hand gesturing vaguely to your bloodied mouth.

“yeah, right!” you say and michael laughs, the sound making you smile—and fuck, you really are gorgeous.

photos from pinterest and michael’s instagram

[therpistlr]

 "Ghost in My Own Body: A Raw Vent About Dissociation"

I’m so tired of feeling like a passenger in my own fucking life.

One minute I’m here. The next, I’m floating somewhere behind my eyes, watching my hands move like they belong to a stranger. The world goes flat—colors muted, sounds muffled, like someone turned down the volume on reality. This isn’t “zoning out.” This is dissociation: a prison where my mind checks out to survive, but leaves me stranded in the wreckage.

What People Don’t Get

“Just stay present!” Wow, thanks! Let me just un-detach from my body like it’s a fucking Wi-Fi connection. Grounding techniques? I’ve inhaled enough lavender oil to drown a yoga studio. Still here, still gone.

“But you look fine!” Yeah, because I’ve mastered autopilot. Smiling on cue, laughing at jokes I don’t hear, nodding like I’m not screaming inside a glass box.

The shame of forgetting: Lost hours. Conversations I can’t recall. Did I eat? Shower? Text someone? My memory’s a sieve, and I’m the idiot shaking it for crumbs.

A Day in the Fog

Morning: Wake up feeling like my soul’s stuffed with cotton. Stare at the ceiling. “Is this my room? Is this my skin?” Shower in cold water to feel something. It doesn’t work. Work: Nod through a meeting. My voice echoes, like I’m lip-syncing to a bad recording. Coworker asks, “You okay?” I say, “Tired.” Truth: “I don’t know who ‘I’ am right now.” Night: Scroll TikTok for hours, brain numb. Find a video I liked yesterday. No memory of it. Cry because I can’t even trust my own fucking thumbs.

The Worst Part?

I don’t know why this happens. Trauma? Anxiety? My brain’s just broken? Therapists toss terms like “depersonalization” and “window of tolerance,” but none of it stitches me back into my body. Meds turn me into a zombie. Mindfulness feels like gaslighting. “Breathe and come back!” Bitch, where is back?!

To the People Who Say “It’s a Coping Mechanism”:

Cool. Thanks, brain, for “protecting” me by making me feel dead inside. A+ job.

To Anyone Else Floating in This Void:

I see you. The way you pinch your skin to feel real. The dread of mirrors. The guilt of “checking out” during your kid’s birthday. You’re not a ghost. You’re not crazy. This is your survival mode—clumsy, cruel, but temporary. We’ll find the volume knob someday.

Vent Over. If you’ve ever dissociated so hard you forgot your own name, drop a 🌫️ or scream into the comments. Sometimes existing is exhausting.

Edit: To whoever reported this to Reddit Cares—thanks, but I’m not suicidal. Just… not here.

Comments (Example Engagement):

“Once dissociated through my own graduation. Family thinks I’m ungrateful. They don’t know I wasn’t even IN the room.”

“The mirror thing??? I avoid them like they’re cursed. Solidarity.”

“Told my therapist I feel like a Sims character. She didn’t laugh. I died inside (again).”

Throwaway because I don’t trust myself to remember this password tomorrow. The DID Workbook __ Credit : S.VT

[iguessitsjustme]

When It Rains It Pours Ep 7 Thoughts

Today…has been real up and down for me. And right now I am tired and I am grumpy and I am hungry and I am sad. But I've seen that this show has a happy ending so I am also excited. I may not be as talkative in this final liveblog as I normally am (or I might be there's no telling). But before I watch, I want to just take a moment to thank everyone that told me to watch this show. Being in this fandom and talking to you guys has been truly the highlight of my last few weeks. I came to this show late but everyone was so excited for me to watch and it has been an absolute delight talking with everyone. I hope to keep seeing y'all in other fandoms after this show ends (also I hope we keep talking about this show. Just because it's ending doesn't mean we ever need to stop. If y'all have thoughts about this show even two years from now and want to scream with someone, I'm sure the entire fandom will be happy to resume the screams). Anyway ramble over. Liveblog, as always, is under the cut:

Before I get into this liveblog actually, I will pay one william dollars to anyone that doesn't wake me up at 5 in the goddamn morning with loud noises and persist with those loud noises for an hour. One william dollars. I have had A Day and there is a reason I am Tired.

Asking the important questions.

Something something coffee something something my brain isn't working today *chomps on some fried chicken*

It is not lost on me that Sei is now wearing colors now that Fujisawa isn't around.

It can be if you want it to be baby boy

Hagiwara making sure to get Sei's friends contact information for him. Making sure that Sei isn't alone and abandoned. Making sure Sei has someone to talk to. I am FINE.

Sei actually reaching out and going to get drink with him. I'm FINE.

Falling in love with kindness my beloved.

Can't wait to rec this to my irl BL friend. They're gonna LOVE it.

Aw man I was hoping Fujisawa just wouldn't be here. I knew he would be but let a person be in denial will ya?

I need that car alarm to be shut the fuck off. I am TRYING to WATCH.

Dear Fujisawa, I do not care that you've always liked Sei. You raped him. 

Okay okay so. Here's the deal. Fujisawa feeling guilt for Sei's parent's accident definitely explains a lot. It explains a whole hell of a lot. BUT. It does not excuse anything. Sei was miserable. Sei was isolated from his friends. Sei was raped. It breaks my heart to think what could have happened had Sei's parents not died. But they did. And it brought out the worst of Fujisawa. And while I understand where he is coming from and why he did the things he did, I do not condone them. Many things can be true at once and the circumstances these two were placed into were awful and complex. But the choices they made in those circumstances are what led them to this moment. To the pain and the hurt. Fujisawa should not feel guilty about Sei's parents. He did not cause them to die. He did, however, rape Sei. That is a thing he did. Honestly, these two need to leave each other's side or else they will be miserable forever. Even without the rape. The guilt Fujisawa feels will forever hold them down in misery. This time when I say Sei needs to be set free of Fujisawa, I mean it more than just Sei needs to be free of his control. He needs to be set free from Fujisawa's feelings of guilt that have trapped them both. And Fujisawa needs to be set free too. Or he will make the same choices with anyone else he tries to move on with. I still say he goes off the cliff though. Cause I'm still angry at him even if his actions make more sense to me now.

Noisy neighbors go AHWAY. bite bite kill kill

Had to move rooms because dear god the noises did not stohp. I am having a bad fucking day let me tell ya

Sei is a good person for setting him free. I still feel no sympathy for him.

Every car needs to die forever.

C'mon you two! Meet up! I need it. I need it so bad. Do you understand how bad I need to see you two meet up today? DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

BITE BITE DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE

SCREAMING

BOY. I KNOW THIS HAS A HAPPY ENDING BUT BOY.

Sei go get your man. Please. I'm begging. I am running out of episode. Please. Go get him.

YES THAT'S RIGHT GO TO THE MUSEUM. TO GO GET YOUR MAN. GO SEI GO

Has he met me?

Anyway umbrella my beloved. I do not have the brain power tonight but I want to write a post about the use of umbrellas in this show. I'm also very busy this weekend (yay birthday plans) so maybe next week? When I can find a spare second. But I need to talk about the umbrellas. I also want to talk about the soundtrack. Especially when it comes to Fujisawa but there's so much. I might need to just pick a Fujisawa scene. Feel free to help me decide if there's a specific scene you want me to attempt to analyze the soundtrack of. Anyway. Back to umbrella my beloved.

I am glad it was Sei who confessed first. That feels important somehow.

Do y'all see. Do you understand. Why umbrellas. Are my beloved? Does this help you to understand?

God bless

They have to say this because it was so well done and the themes were so universal and applicable that it feels real. The plot and characters may be fictional but the feelings, emotions, and community this show brought are real and I am ever so grateful for it.

As I have already complained numerous times today, my brain is not here to do any sort of wrap up or anything. I might do a post-show thoughts later on once I've had time to process and also I get my brain back. I did it for 4Minutes I might do it for this one because there is a lot I want to say. I also might not because busy. We will see. And I kind of want to rewatch this last episode once I can feel my brain again so I feel like I can fully appreciate it.

Thank you to everyone who has read my liveblogs I cannot believe that more than 2 people were reading these and enjoying my silly little thoughts. I love each and every one of you. Please feel free to keep tagging me in things or talking to me about this show or literally anything else for the rest of all time (I am currently having a bot problem so I might need to restrict my reply settings but if that happens my DMs and ask box are always open). Peace and love I'm gonna go cry about umbrellas now.

[corishadowfang]

For the drabble requests- maybe something to do with Bragi and Brain?

(For this)

Oooh, that's an interesting one; not two characters I see interacting very often!

---

            Brain was pretty familiar with his grandson’s friends.  Not that he had much choice in the matter, really; Eraqus would happily ramble about all of them for hours, dragging his grandfather off to meet them or bringing them over to the house without warning him first, much to his exasperated amusement.  Still, it meant he was pretty familiar with their personalities, their quirks and hobbies.

            It also meant that when one started acting a bit different, it didn’t take long to notice.

            “Bragi.  Think I could speak to you for a moment?”

            Bragi rolled his head toward him, a smile on his face that stretched just a bit too wide.  “Sure, Gramps.  What’s up?”

            Brain smiled mirthlessly.  “Just wanted to see if you were doing alright.”

            There was a tightness around the boy’s (man’s?) eyes that Brain didn’t think would be there, if he were speaking to anyone else.  “Fine.  Just slept kind of weird.  It’s been throwing off my whole day.”

            “Yeah?  Can’t imagine why.”

            The words came out with more bite than intended, and apparently it was enough for the man puppeting Bragi’s body to let go of whatever façade he was trying to hold up.  His shoulders slumped forward a bit, expression falling into something that looked unspeakably tired.  Brain didn’t have a lot of sympathy.  “Look, kid.  You know how this goes—”

            “Not exactly a kid anymore,” Brain cut in.  “Can’t really say the same for the one whose body you stole.”

            “I’ve been around for centuries.  You’re all kids, as far as I’m concerned.”

            “Fine.  If we’re all so spry, why don’t you let that one go?  Find someone else’s body to steal for a few years.”

            Bragi—Luxu gave Brain a very tired look.  “You know I can’t do that at this point.”

            He did.  He hated it, but he did, and he could feel the helpless anger burning in his gut.  (It wouldn’t do anything.  It wouldn’t change anything.  It made him want to scream.)  “Why him?” he asked, finally, when he managed to get past his fury and actually speak.

            “He’s friends with a blueblood.  Not too important, but still close enough to keep an eye on things.  And young enough I shouldn’t have to take another vessel for a long time.”

            He gave Brain a pointed look.  It didn’t really do anything to soothe him.

            “Be mad at me all you want, but you know as well as I do how this works.  Got to make sacrifices to keep the world safe, right?”

            He thought of an old friend, carrying an infant off to some remote island for the sake of a prophecy, and found himself snapping, “That’s not the same.”

            “No?”

            He tried to find a rebuke; the words got stuck behind his tongue.

            “Bragi?  Grandpa?”  Eraqus peered around the corner, giving them curious looks.  “Are you guys coming?”

            “Yeah,” Luxu called back before Brain could formulate a response.  “Gramps was just checking up on me.”

            Brain’s mouth clicked shut, and he breathed out sharply through his nose.

            Luxu didn’t say anything else, but as he hurried up to Eraqus, he gave him a very pointed look.  You aren’t going to tell anyone, are you?

            …Of course not.  It wouldn’t change anything.  Not now.  But it took a moment for Brain to actually convince himself to move, regret and fury still churning in his stomach.

            (Just one more thing, he thought, and wondered, not for the first time, when those regrets would crush him.)

[ciaomarie]

Sometimes, late at night or in the early morning, a thought about The Bear pops into my brain. And it's something that we've screamed about a hundred times before, but it makes me crazy!!!!!

So in season 1, Sydney tells Marcus during the first their "breakup" that Carmy made the best meal she's EVER had. At the end of the episode, they reconcile with Carmy extending his most cherished dream to share with her. Then, in season 3, ep.1, is about Carmy finding himself and losing himself. We cut back and forth from the present aftermath of Friends and Family to his culinary journey, ending with him sending his heart out on a plate. The FINAL scene of this hero's capsule episode is Sydney eating said heart. And it's her favorite. Yeah, yeah, yeah, this is supposed to be a work relationship. A platonic partnership. Also, Sydney is not a central component of Carmy's purpose. Nope. She's just part of the ensemble. Carmy's metaphorical SOUL being consumed by Sydney, her seeking him out post Sheridan because she couldn't get that it out of her mind, him STILL not knowing that she ate it, and them starting a restaurant together where he offers her and only her out of all the staff a partnership agreement...And the final shot of Sydney in S3 is of her having a panic attack. This was mirroring Carmy just when he's had a breakthrough. It signaled that it's his turn to be there for HER. But nope. We're delusional. This is a simple work family show that accidentally told a soulmate story.

[darsynia]

The idea of curling up on the couch next to Steve, with a lovely fire going in the fireplace, made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, as if you had already been sitting there and not just imagining it.

This is great longhand for 'Steve is comforting,' and so is the way the reader's thoughts mirror his naming the space as a safe haven.

“Well, the last message I sent you before you went radio silent was that mirror selfie,” you sighed. “So while I waited, and didn’t know what happened, I thought… That maybe that was why you didn’t show up. Because you didn’t like the dress, or… how I looked .”

I feel like with the thoughts about him being endearingly old fashioned, there's still an unspoken bit here about feeling too forward by sending the selfie at all. Also, thanks for managing to address how I feel about 'doll' without being in my head--or ARE you??

It was something that made me ask if I’m dreaming

YOU ARE IN MY BRAIN I SAID THIS IN CHAPTER ONE (see I scream at everyone in my reviews lol)

“Not having to decide that after you’re out of brainpower?” you asked, and he nodded. “Yeah, I get that.”

There's more than reason this man is out of brainpower!!

I didn't mention it on AO3 but I like the title/chapter content combo!

A Fairytale Of A Disaster| Chapter 3/4 | Steve Rogers x doctor!Reader

Explicit - 18+ only - Minors DNI.

Your friend set you up with a perfect guy. Unfortunately, when it's time for you to meet 'Grant' for the first time, he has stood you up. On Valentine's Day of all days.

Was it too good to be true? Or does he instead have a very, very good reason why he's late, and a desire to make it all up to you?

Fluff, hurt/comfort, meet-cute, misunderstandings, eventual smut, healthy communication. | Background Sam Wilson/OFC.

FIC MASTERLIST | AUTHOR MASTERLIST | AO3

<< Previous chapter

Story Content Warnings: Discussion of Steve's canonical trauma; mentions of Steve/Peggy.

Reader Specifics: She/her, late twenties (a few years younger than Steve in this fic). Training to be a trauma surgeon (has completed med school, in residency stage). Likes books and houseplants. No description of appearance (other than clothes and such), no use of Y/N.

Alternate Universe: The Avengers Initiative continued SHIELD's work after its collapse to corruption. The Avengers are living together in the Compound - Bucky has healed, and Civil War never happened because Tony and Steve worked through their differences like adults.

Story Notes: I wanted to write a Valentine's Day oneshot, and then it turned out it has parts. Oh no. Well, here we are. I hope you enjoy this fluffy little trope collection! As always, thank you for reading, and hearing what you think means a lot to me.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

Chapter 3: The Royal Castle

Chapter Notes: Thank you for your patience, and enjoy the new chapter! As always, thank you for reading, and I'm happy to hear from you!

2,395 words.

Even as you’d already caught glimpses of the beautiful marble counter tops and professional grade kitchen equipment from the pictures that Steve had shared with you, it still felt a little surreal to step into his space in the Avengers Compound.

“You have a beautiful home,” you said, pausing to take  all of it in.

It was a two-bedroom apartment at the very end of the Compound, with a patio that looked out onto the river. It was too dark to make out the scenery through the windows that covered the back wall from floor to ceiling, but it could be assumed that they bathed the space  in natural light. The great room opened in front of you as a tasteful combination of dark hardwood floors and cream-colored upholstery, complete with navy blue accents and a few selected pieces of artwork hung on the walls. On your right, the whole wall was covered by a built-in bookshelf made of mahogany , save for two doors that led into what you assumed were the bedrooms; the bathroom door was next to the entrance on your left. There was a wood fireplace at the back of the room acting as a centerpiece for the sitting area, and you could see that the furniture and the large kitchen island were placed in a way that made it easy for someone working in the kitchen to talk to those who were sitting down.

The idea of curling up on the couch next to Steve, with a lovely fire going in the fireplace, made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, as if you had already been sitting there and not just imagining it.

You hadn’t met even Samuel, let alone Bucky Barnes or Natasha Romanoff, but you were familiar enough with the Avengers Initiative to know that the four of them formed some sort of rapid task force that worked together. Despite their fearsome professional reputations, it was surprisingly easy to see all of them hanging out here, lounging and laughing with drinks in their hands, and enjoying the time out of the spotlight.

Everything about this felt like a sanctuary, a place he’d built for himself when the limelight got too harsh for his eyes.

“Thank you,” Steve said earnestly. “I’ve tried to make it into a safe haven of sorts. Can I take your coat?”

You’d stopped halfway through shedding the piece of clothing, having untied the belt and unbuttoned it, but it was still hanging on your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you said, but before you could move to give it to him, Steve was already on it.

The fabric of your dress was thin enough that you could feel how warm his hands were when he wrapped his fingers around the coat at the shoulders. But he didn’t linger; as soon as you moved your arms back, he gently pulled the coat off and turned to hang it in the hallway closet. Through its mirror doors, you caught a glimpse of how endearingly focused he had appeared for such a simple task — it must’ve been one of those things that were actually important to him and not for show, a part of the old-fashioned nature he had been very direct about in his messages.

Old-fashioned indeed. You hadn’t quite guessed just how old-fashioned.

You bit your lip, grateful for the fact that your lipstick could handle it and not smudge. Steve’s presence was sending your head spinning, and after sharing the fish and chips with him on the way for a quick snack, you had a whole different kind of appetite. The tang of vinegar still lingered on your tongue, sweetened with the taste of all the memories you’d ended up sharing with him — during the drive, there had been plenty of time to exchange personal stories, even as you’d done a lot of that over the endless stream of messages that had been going back and forth between you.

“I don’t know if I said it already, but you look truly beautiful,” he said, stealing a glance at you via the mirror as he slid the door closed.

His low, earnest voice shot down your spine, all the way to your toes that curled at the compliment, and you were grateful that your red pumps were close-toed. The effect he was having on you was almost embarrassing, but with the way he lingered near you, the way he had looked for excuses to touch even as he hadn’t been one bit slimy about it, had you hoping that the feeling was shared.

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m glad you like it. I thought maybe…”

You cut yourself off and lowered your gaze, swallowing as if doing that would summon the words back. Of course, it didn’t, and you could hear the worry in Steve’s voice, could imagine his forehead creasing as you kept your eyes on the hardwood floor.

“Thought what?”

“Never mind,” you said, giving him a dismissive shake of your head. “It’s not a big deal.”

You hadn’t meant to mention it to him, as it had simply been one of the woe-is-me thoughts that had run through your head while you had been waiting, thinking you’d gone to all this trouble for nothing. But as you cursed your slippery tongue, it was obvious that Steve wasn’t just going to simply let it go, not unless you explicitly told him that you didn’t want to talk about it.

“Hey,” he said softly.

He reached over, caressing your jaw with two fingers to tip your face back up, and when you gave in, his hand just stayed there, the warmth of his palm cupping the left side of your face. The creased brow you had imagined was there, above eyes that were soft and slightly worried.

“Tell me?” he murmured.

Well, it was not like this night hadn’t had its fair share of awkward confessions already. You were out of practice when it came to the dating game, but you hadn’t quite imagined something like this when you had been preparing for the date.

“It’s a little silly,” you sighed, and it still wasn’t the no that would’ve gotten him to back off — one you weren’t so certain you wanted to give him.

Not when he looked at you like that, as if he had all the time in the world, as if his broad shoulders could carry whatever worries you had been dragging with you. As if he wanted to take those off you just like he’d taken your coat.

“I’d still like to hear?” he said. “Only if you want to share, of course.”

You sighed. Perhaps that lack of pressure made you want to tell him. He’d already spilled out some of his insecurities ; that made you feel like you could be a human in his presence.

“Well, the last message I sent you before you went radio silent was that mirror selfie,” you sighed. “So while I waited, and didn’t know what happened, I thought… That maybe that was why you didn’t show up. Because you didn’t like the dress, or… how I looked .”

You might as well have struck him across the face, based on the reaction. The worry in his expression gave way to horror, and his other hand came up to your face, too. He stepped closer, fully cradling your face and tilting it slightly up, and it was so fast that you could only open your mouth in surprise. His eyes flew down to your now parted lips before he snapped his gaze back up.

“Oh, no, doll,” he breathed out. “Trust me, the last thing I wanted to do after receiving that picture was to stand you up. It was…”

It was his turn to swallow, but just like in your case, that didn’t magically summon the words back. Doll. You liked the sound of that — from the lips of someone else, it might’ve sounded all sorts of icky and objectifying, but the way he said it was so gentle, like a caress. He was still grimy, and he wouldn’t get really close because of that. Or, as you reminded yourself, this was a man who had grown up during a very different era of dating and he had emphasized how he hadn’t asked you to come here to get under your skirt.

But that didn’t mean that he didn’t want anything physical. Not wanting you to feel pressured and not wanting you were definitely not the same thing, and you allowed yourself to even venture as far as thinking that his consideration might be something more than just good manners. After all, if he was so worried about coming across as too forward, then he must’ve thought there was a reason to watch his act around you; that if he didn’t, he might slip, and follow his more primal and less gentlemanly instincts.

It felt logical. You were smart. You were good at logic. Even as keeping a train of thought together when Steve’s large hands were cradling your face was proving to be rather challenging.

“It was what?” you whispered, barely able to get the sound out.

“It was something that made me ask if I’m dreaming, with having a lady that smart and gorgeous give dating me a chance. I’ve hardly been able to get that image of you out of my mind the entire night. And yet it still didn’t do justice to how beautiful you look when you’re standing here right in front of me.”

You licked your lips, breathing out to give your jammed brain a second to process the sentences — and move on from the words get, you, and off falling from Steve’s mouth in the context of something to do with your physical body. It wasn’t anything like a secret to you anymore that he was a man of honesty, and apparently that also applied in the way he talked; you didn’t doubt for a moment that he really felt all that about you, and your cheeks burned with excitement at the thought of him being struck by your beauty.

“Well, I’m actually a little surprised there wasn’t a line at the door,” you said. “When we were texting, I was like half-convinced that you have to be a serial killer or something, because no one like you can actually be single.”

“Is this a bad time to ask you to tour the walk-in freezers of the compound?” Steve grinned, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

The shared moment of laughter over his stupid joke lifted the atmosphere, and you managed to smile despite still feeling dumbfounded by his comment. He straightened up a little, seemingly realizing the position that you were in and that he was lingering, and let his hands slowly slip away from your face. Ever a gentleman. You kept looking at him with a smile on your face, letting him know you hadn’t minded any of that.

“But I’m glad you found me beautiful. And smart.”

“How could I not, when you are both?” he replied, and the slightly flirtatious smile that sparkled in his eyes was going to be the death of you.

There were worse ways to go. Steve was watching your reaction, calibrating his strategy according to the things he saw on your face, and whatever he did see, it was obvious he was quite liking it. The heat still lingered where he had touched, and it was spreading all over your body, making you crave  more.

“I was thinking, we could watch a movie after I make us some food? The Compound network has every streaming service imaginable, and — I don’t know how, and I don’t want to know how — Tony has managed to get access to some of the stuff that’s still in cinemas. Of course, if you’d rather I take you to the movies another evening to see something, I would be happy to.”

“I think it might be nicer if it was just us two,” you said. “Easier to talk or take a break or something. So yes. Movie sounds great.”

Your cheeks burned as the choppy sentences left your mouth — this awkwardness was rather new to you, something you weren’t usually struggling with to this level. You were blaming the disrupted verbal processes on the way Steve’s eyes were gleaming in the bright light of the hallway, and the gentle hint of a musky scent that floated around him, something that made your mouth water. It had been a long day and no doubt emotional-roller-coaster-like day for him, and yet his full attention was now on you, as if the entire world outside the door of his apartment could wait, as if nothing could be more important than this.

You found yourself agreeing with the thought.

“Alright, then,” he said. “How are you feeling about barbecue chicken baguettes? Had I known you’d be over, I would’ve prepared, made a marinade for the chicken but there’s some pretty decent sauce in the fridge that I made the other day, and chicken breasts, and the freezer has pre-baked bread?”

“That sounds great,” you replied. “Especially for impromptu food.”

“I like to keep the place well-stocked. Obviously, there are 24/7 restaurants and stores right here on the AI Campus, but I like knowing that I have food at home when the days are long.”

“Not having to decide that after you’re out of brainpower?” you asked, and he nodded. “Yeah, I get that.”

He smiled, tugging at some sort of hidden mechanism in his suit, so that the collar got looser — as if he had unbuttoned the top button of a jacket. You glanced at the now-exposed crook of his neck, wondering how his scent would be right there, what kind of sound he’d make for you if you caressed it with your lips, or tongue, or teeth.

If Steve realized where your attention had gone, he didn’t show it. You needed to get a grip — he had backed off from cradling your face, it was likely he wasn’t comfortable with taking this anywhere beyond those kind of simple touches, not tonight. He was obviously interested in you and found you attractive, so you’d wait for the right moment.

“Alright, back after a shower and a change of clothes,” he smiled. “Make yourself at home, doll.”

Next Chapter >>

[xxplastic-cubexx]

personal happiness or what the fuck ever

bonus:

[ipostmysimpingstuffanonymously]

A while ago I drew this Headcanon that developed on the SatoSho Discord about the two of them being figure skaters and it completely got out of hand and resulted in this and a 16k fanfiction. Anyway, you can find the behind the scenes and the fic on the discord server xD

[heartorbit]

a fool and a sinner