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#he has totally decided that it's not his problem
pumpkinbxtch · 1 day
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— 𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗼𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗯𝗶𝗮?。⁠:゚ headcanons
are the HoO boys afraid of falling in love with you? (ft. apollo)
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☆ radiostar is playing… warrior by aurora!
who's here: percy jackson, leo valdez, frank zhang, jason grace & apollo. warnings: none, philophobia is the fear of falling in love. a/n: This is super based on their profiles according to the books, because well, let's talk honestly to others, I decided to do this, it's interesting.
percy jackson;
Percy isn’t afraid of loving or being loved. His mom raised him with a lot of affection. But, he does get scared of not being loved back or not being good enough for you. This is because of his obvious self-esteem issues. Doubting love is the only thing that makes him rethink and overthink things. So, sometimes you have to talk to him when you see he's down about something he doesn’t want to tell you. But he never hesitated when he fell for you and wanted you to know as soon as he realized it.
leo valdez;
Yes. The answer is yes, he is scared of falling in love. But he doesn’t realize it until he’s totally in love with you, and it’s too late for those feelings to stop growing. Leo isn’t fully aware of it because he likes having girls around, but it never goes beyond the surface until it did with you. He realized that imagining a future with someone isn’t something to take lightly. Is there something he can’t fix with his magical pockets?
Leo spent most of his life running away and being from nowhere, so he ends up with an avoidant attachment style. He’s working on this now to open up more with you because at the beginning of the relationship, it seemed like he was running away from you. In reality, he’s full of love to give and wants to receive it too.
frank zhang;
He’s never scared of falling in love or feeling something as genuine as that. He’s a son of Mars, who’s associated with passion, so Frank has never had to face love head-on. The only problem might be feeling like he’s too much or too annoying because he would die for you and kill an entire nation to be with you. Frank is careful when he realizes he likes you or is falling in love because he knows some things just can’t be, but he never hides his feelings. He’ll tell you he loves you and respects if it’s not mutual. He almost explodes with happiness knowing it’s mutual.
jason grace;
Jason isn’t great at showing his feelings. It constantly overwhelms him and keeps him up at night, trying to solve it like a math equation when it’s the complete opposite. He’s supposed to be the voice of reason, or at least that’s what he’s thought all this time. But when you get close to him, his gears go crazy, spark, and break down. Is he scared of falling in love? Not exactly, but he’s afraid of not expressing it properly because he knows how important communication is. After getting to know you better, he realizes it’s better to go with the flow, which isn’t easy for him, but he finally has an answer. He was born to love and wants to be loved.
apollo;
Yes, yes, yes, yes. All his exes ended up as plants or dead. How could he not develop a fear related to love after that keeps happening? So it’s a nightmare when you come into his life because, unfortunately for him, he’s a hopeless romantic. There’s nothing more ironic than that. He tries to avoid it at all costs, but in the blink of an eye, he’s holding you tight and kissing you with a goofy expression on his face. Even though he’s so scared, his longing to find the one outweighs it...
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midwestprincesss · 10 hours
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how did it end?
part 1 || patrick zweig x fem!reader
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"you cannot love somebody into loving you"
summary: your relationship with patrick has been on and off for ages. you knew him and he knew you. you love him but he only loves you when he can get something out of it. but then, can that even be considered love?
a/n(READ THIS BITCH): random ass specific fact about the reader but she is skincare obsessed like me. acne prone girlies yk what im talking about. btw I KNOW PATRICK DOESN'T GO TO STANFORD BUT WE WILL PRETEND HE SPENDS A LOT OF TIME THERE OK. also this series will only continue if u guys give me feedback. and hype me up. cause i have no motivation. patrick girlies help me i know ur out there💪 also this first chapter is like. they're friends but pining. no angst yet oopsie
2004, stanford college.
being in love with patrick was difficult. really, really fucking difficult. it was almost like you had to put in an effort to be in love with him. nevertheless, you didn't. to you it just felt easy. you wish you could get rid of the feeling, but it doesn't seem to want to go away.
patrick zweig could be very easily described in one word: player. and by that i don't only mean tennis player.
but he was easy to love, too. if we ignore all the mixed signals he always gave you, he's actually a sweet guy.
he remembers your coffee order. he listens to your problems. he calls you to check up on you. and he takes care of you while you're out partying. and after that. and in the morning. he holds your hair and rubs your back as you puke out whatever the fuck you drank last night. he gives you his clothes. out of all the girls he knows, he gives you his clothes.
this was one of those times.
saturday morning.
you woke up with a horrible headache and with a certain curly-haired boy next to you. you try to remember what happened last night, but you give up after about three minutes of staring at the ceiling in silence. who cares, really? at least you woke up in your bed, and not on a random bench outside. not that patrick would ever let that happen.
he has the key to your dorm. he spent most of his days with you, so you figured it would be totally fine for him to have it.
you rub your eyes sleepily as you look to your left- patrick was not sleeping either.
"morning." he said, simply. you groaned in response.
"glad you asked, and you're welcome." he said sarcastically. "you got fucking wasted, like usual. i had to carry you from the party. not that you couldn't walk, but you just insisted on it. when we finally got here you threw up all over yourself. and then in the toilet, like three times, i think."
your eyes widened in disgust. you looked down at your clothes, expecting to find a now vomit-stained white dress on. to your surprise, you were wearing a dark green tee - you remember you've seen it on patrick once- and a pair of uncomfortably large boxers. you're surprised they didn't fall off while you were sleeping.
"patrick." you said, terrified. "please tell me i took my makeup off before sleeping. or at least washed my face." patrick sighed. 'blah blah blah i have sensitive skin blah blah blah i'll break out if i sleep with my makeup on' you always told him, whenever he was sleeping over.
"you didn't." he said. then went quiet for a few seconds, but just for his own amusement. he thought you looked cute when you were worried. but worried was not a big enough word for the look on your face- you were more like, mortified, maybe? so he decided to stop joking around. "i took your makeup off. i couldn't find those circular white thingies you do it with so i used a towel-"
you cut him off with a laugh. you could actually kiss him. maybe you shouldn't, though. your breath smelled like actual shit. looking to your right, at the nightstand next to your side of the bed, you noticed your earrings and necklace and rings arranged neatly next to eachother and you swore you felt your heart flutter.
you knew patrick cared about you, but you didn't think he would be so attentive. usually, you don't get so drunk, so you can actually do what you need to do by yourself. even then, he insists he should do it for you. but you always refused him, partly because you didn't want to bother him but you were also pretty convinced he would not do things properly. he proved you wrong.
"for how long have you been awake?" you ask him.
"i'm not sure whether i even slept. you kept talking on your sleep. and tossing. and turning. and stealing the blanket. i think you even slapped me once-" he started laughing as you started muttering apologies, but he immediately told you not to worry about it.
you sighed, then you both went silent. you examined his face- he really did seem tired- droopy eyes, dark eyebags, eyelids partially closed. but still smirking at you. no one and nothing could ever wipe that shit-eating grin off his face.
"you look cute." he broke the silence, letting his thumb linger on your cheek.
"i feel like shit." you snickered, hiding your face in your hands but he immediately pulled them away, kissing your knuckles.
that took you by surprise. sure, you and patrick were affectionate with eachother, but this felt way more intimate than usual. what was going on with him?
suddenly, you looked at the time. 10:30 am. you were late for breakfast. like, really late. you figured there wouldn't be anything left in the cafeteria by now.
"shit. we'll have to starve until lunch, patrick" you told him, a hint of irony in your voice.
"don't worry, i'll go get us something from the supermarket." he said as he got up, pulling a grey hoodie over his head. he took his keys and wallet then looked down lovingly at you as you still rested on the bed. "call me if you need anything else" he said , kissing your forehead then leaving. leaving your dorm, but also leaving you swooning over him.
you were in it for good.
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sourmiguel · 18 hours
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Hi there!
Biggest sterek fan here, could you recommend any Alive Hale family fics where they love Stiles and want Sterek to happen.
Bonus point if Peter plays the matchmaker and tell Derek to stop being uptight
Pretty please 🙏.
Also thank you for the amazing work you’re doing with your blog, much appreciated 🫶🏻
Hey! I have so many Alive Hale Fam fics bookmarked it's crazy! I love them so much. I'm not coming up with any Peter ships Sterek specifically, but here is a wide variety of some fun Alive/Meddling Hale Fam fics:
Blind Date With a Book by thepsychicclam (wc30361, mature)
Summary: Stiles thought the Blind Date With a Book trend was a great way to drum up business for his small bookshop. He definitely thought it was a great idea after the hot guy kept returning and buying more blind dates with books. Derek didn’t know how he kept getting set up on blind dates by his family, or why he kept going on them. The highlight of his night was when the date was over and he could go to the little bookshop in town and buy something to read for the rest of the night. He wanted to read, not date.
I’m totally obsessed with this fic. So cute. I love Derek and his aversion to his blind dates. I love Stiles and how cute and eager he is. I love their game nights. I just love this.
Follow the Jelly Beans by @afailureandamasterpiece (wc5793, teen)
Summary: Derek waves hello to everyone else who is gathered around a bare tree and hops up the stairs to his childhood bedroom to put on his soft flannel bottoms. Gracie had picked them out especially for him last Christmas and he made sure to pack them for the traditional pajama decorating party. Only his pants aren’t in the bag. In fact, none of his belongings are in the bag. It’s not his bag at all. “Oh no,” he mutters, sifting through the contents. “Who the fuck packed this?”
I love: meet cutes, Hale family love, single father!Stiles, fluff. This has all of that.
Just a Hobby by kaistrex (wc3009, teen)
Summary: Five times Deputy Derek shelters his partner from the world of the supernatural and the one time he discovers he’s just been making a fool of himself.
Silly Derek, trying to shelter Stiles from the big bad world of the supernatural.
When You’re Close I Feel The Sparks by Leslie_Knope (wc39671, mature)
Summary: The guy is hot as hell, sure—leather jacket and glasses, Jesus, be still Stiles’ poor, bisexual, beating heart—but more importantly, it must really suck being new on the first day of senior year. “We’re adopting him,” he decides, tugging Scott and Kira by the elbow in that direction. “Let’s go.”
This is the best kind of HSAU - still in the ‘verse, just everyone lives. I love the progression of their relationship and the twists and turns of this fic!
Hale’s Modern Encyclopedia of Playing Cards (and Dating Humans) by thepsychicclam (wc49698, mature)
Summary: Wolves don’t date humans. And Derek’s okay with that. He’s got his Pack, his friends in the Pack network, and lacrosse. Plus, he plays cards with his grandma all the time. Stiles Stilinski definitely doesn’t factor into his life - no matter how much of a crush Derek has on him. But when bird creatures attack Derek, Stiles, and their friends in the Preserve, Stiles finds out about werewolves and things get pretty complicated. For Derek at least. And he thought school was his only problem, but now he’s grounded and Stiles is hanging around way too much for Derek to ignore him any longer.
I adore Derek and Stiles’s relationship and the growth it goes through in this fic. I think Derek with an uncontrollable crush that makes him wolf out in Stiles’s presence is so cute. I also love the Hale fam and the way Stiles (and Scott and the Sheriff) just get folded in after the crazy. So good.
Children’s Tales by @artemis69 (wc4690, general)
Summary: Be careful, little girl. Don’t go causing troubles in Beacon Hills, little girl, because the Hales live there. Keep away from Beacon Hills, little girl, or the Hales will destroy you. – Or: In a world where the Hales are alive and the protectors of the town of Beacon Hills, the humans politely fake ignorance of their not-really-human status, and they all live happily ever after. Then Kate comes in. Well. Tries to.
There are so many things about this fic that I love - the Sterek friendship, the Hales protecting the town, and the town protecting the Hales right back. So great.
Followers, let us know if you have any Peter ships Sterek / Alive Hale Fam fics for us!
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Mattheo/Theodore x m reader
Straight boy mattheo who's getting with the prettiest girl in his house but he doesn't wanna be a total loser at kissing yk? So what's better than making you, his best bro, practice with him?
Obviously, with some trepidation, you do it and he loves it so much he chases after your lips even after you move away to critique him (imagine sitting on a couch w him and you move away from his lips to talk about what he does wrong but all he does is push you shoulders back until your back is flush with the couch just so he could keep kissing you)
Anyway, this slowly escalates into him getting a boner and rubbing it on your groin, begging you to "help me out bro"
Then after a week of practicing he gets with his dream girl and the kissing was a success, so was the blowjob she gave him! But he accidentally said your name while doing it and he blew it!
(Op you can choose how this ends)
Kissing - M.R. x male!Reader
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A/N: Hehe this was fun to write. Difficult, but so much fun. I really really hope the smut is good 😬 The fix is unedited with no use of Y/N. If the ending seems a little weird, I’m sorry. I was really tired when I wrote it
This is the start of Mattheo’s bi awakening. Why? Because I said so
Fic does contain smut so NO MINORS!!
CW: Smut!!!; begging; Mattheo’s puppy eyes; Reader is in love with Mattheo; mentions of kissing; female oc; kissing; lots of kissing; making out; explicit sexual content; swearing; public sex; grinding; more begging; handjobs; cum; brief sweet moment; somewhat interrupted sex, I guess?; sex jokes; vague descriptions of blowjobs; several uses of the word ‘gay’; Mattheo doesn’t understand his feelings; Matty is a horny boy; mildly ambiguous ending; this takes place in Mattheo and Reader’s seventh year of school, so they’re both of age!!
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“C’mon, mate,” Mattheo begs, pulling you yet again from your homework. “It’s for a good cause!”
You look up, mildly annoyed.
The two of you are in the empty Slytherin common room, the last students there for the night. Everyone else is either sleeping or out partying.
It’s just the two of you, and Mattheo is set on annoying you.
He’s your best friend; your other half, so to speak. It’s been this way for almost seven years. He’s the yin to your yang, the fire to your calm.
Which he’s disrupting pretty majorly right now.
You exhale slowly, putting down your quill. “Just ask Pansy. Or Daphne. They’re good kissers, right?”
Mattheo groans and leans into you, giving you his best puppy eyes. The ones you can never say no to. “Please? I don’t trust them like I trust you. You won’t make fun of me or hold it over me like they will.”
He’s getting vulnerable, which means he’s being serious. Damn him.
You sigh and force yourself to look away. “Matty…”
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear! Besides, it’s not like, you know, we’re in love or anything. It’s just a kiss or two.”
And that is the entire problem. Because you are very much in love with him.
You’ve been pining after him since second year. Practically ever since you became friends. You’ve been head over heels for him, utterly and truly in love.
And he has no idea.
Which is why to him, asking you for kissing practice isn’t a big deal.
It’s all Seraphina Selwyn’s fault. She’s undeniably the prettiest Slytherin in your year, if not the whole school.
And out of all the boys she decided she wanted to have, she had to pick yours.
Her and Mattheo have been flirting for months. And she’s finally started to show signs that she’s ready for him to make a move.
He’s been giddy about it since it happened, gushing about it every time he’s alone with you. It just makes you feel sick.
But you can’t let him down, especially not when he’s giving you those oh so sad puppy eyes you can’t resist.
With a sigh, you nod. “Fine. But only a few kisses. Wouldn’t want anyone spreading any rumors about us.”
It hurts to say. But you can’t let him know.
Mattheo grins and scoots closer. “Alright! Teach me how to kiss, oh wise one.”
You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. He’s so dorky sometimes. “Just… come here.”
You reach out and gently guide his head to yours. You pause for a moment, mouth right above his.
Are you really going to do this?
To your surprise, it’s Mattheo who leans the rest of the way in. He presses his mouth to yours in a clumsy kiss.
It feels like sparks go down your spine. You shiver, eyes closing.
Mattheo kisses you like he’s hungry, like your mouth is a feast and he’s ravenous for it. He’s clumsy and eager, but has enough common sense to not try and shove his tongue down your throat.
You try to slow the kiss down. To show him how to move his mouth and such. It works… sort of.
After several kisses, you try and pull back. Not far, but just enough so you can give him some advice.
He chases after you. Leaning further into you in order to press his lips to yours again.
“Matty—“
He pushes your shoulders back, pressing you back against the arm of the couch. And you?
Your entire body lights up with sparks as he slides partway onto your lap. You can feel your dick twitch underneath him and for a moment you panic. He’s gonna feel you!
But Mattheo only moans softly and continues kissing you. He shifts his position on your lap, resting his hands on your chest for support.
You melt into the kiss, letting your lips part and your body relax. You can’t help it. This could be your only chance ever to kiss Mattheo; and if he’s into it, you’re not gonna complain.
Mattheo’s tongue slips into your mouth and you forget why you ever wanted to pull away in the first place.
The two of you make out for what feels like hours. Just mouth pressed to mouth, tongues gliding together. You pull back a couple times to breathe, and Mattheo always chases your mouth with his.
It’s hot. Painfully so. You’re made aware of your hard-on every time Mattheo shifts in your lap.
You know he can feel it. You brace yourself, preparing for the moment he mentions it. But he seems too caught up in kissing you to care.
He shifts again and makes a small noise. An almost groaning sound. You feel yourself throb when you realize he’s just as hard as you.
His cock, pressed right alongside yours.
He groans again and grinds his dick against yours. “Fuck, you feel so good…!”
You moan, giving a little thrust up against his hips. “Matty…”
He captures your mouth with his, taking the chance to lick against your tongue again. You melt into the kiss once more, unable to help yourself.
The two of you make out with more passion now, grinding against each other.
Mattheo’s movements start to get more desperate. More hungry. He’s practically humping your dick, panting and moaning into your mouth.
“Please,” he finally begs. “I need you.”
You bite down a groan, struggling to think straight. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.
“Please? Just this once, I swear!” He’s giving you his puppy eyes again. “Help me out, just this once?”
You can’t help it. He’s so hot and you’re so weak to his puppy eyes.
“Alright. But only this once.”
You fumble with his belt, clumsily working with one hand to undo it. When you finally manage to slip your hand into his pants, Mattheo whines.
You close your hand around his dick, giving him as good of a stroke as you can within the confines of his clothes. He groans and presses into your touch, his dick twitching and throbbing under your hand.
You shift and squirm a bit until you manage to free him, finally able to stroke him like you’re wanting.
Mattheo moans like a porn star, thrusting into your hand eagerly. Greedily. He’s practically jerking himself off with your hand.
And you love it.
You match his pace, shifting your grip every now and then until you find what makes his hips stutter.
“I can’t—“ He sounds absolutely wrecked. “I’m gonna—“
“Come on,” you groan, your dick a weeping mess at the sight. “Cum for me, Matty.”
Mattheo thrusts into your hand once, twice, and cums. Hot sticky ropes of white paint your shirt and pants.
It’s too hot for you to even be upset.
“Merlin, Matty,” you breathe. “That was hot.”
He drops his forehead against your shoulder and pants out a laugh. For a moment, he just basks in your presence. Nuzzling against your neck like he’s gonna say something soft.
Then the sound of faint laughter breaks the spell. People are coming.
You hastily mutter a cleaning charm while Mattheo frantically tucks himself away. You both know you can’t deal with any rumors about the two of you being together.
By the time the drunken partygoers spill into the common room, the two of you are sitting up on the couch again. No evidence of what transpired at all.
Except for maybe your still hard dick, which you use your notebook to hide. You’ll take care of it later.
As people slowly head off to bed, you start to gather your things. Mattheo grabs your arm before you can leave.
“Can—“ He falters for a moment. “Same time tomorrow? I need more practice still.”
You hesitate. But only for a moment. “Sure. We can meet up in my dorm. It’ll be empty then.”
Mattheo nods, acting for all the world like you two are talking about a homework study session. You can see the gleam in his eyes though. He’s just as excited as you.
You head off to bed with your heart pounding. You and Mattheo. Kissing practice tomorrow.
You have no doubts what it’ll turn into again. And oh Merlin, are you looking forward to it.
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One week later
“I blew it!” Mattheo barges into your room without knocking, startling you.
“Blew what? Who did you blow?” You sit up, curious and confused.
“Not who.” He rolls his eyes, unable to help a tiny smirk, even in his distress. “It. My relationship.”
“Oh.” That makes more sense. “With Selwyn? What did you do?”
He groans and slumps to the floor, sitting at the base of your bed. “So everything’s going great, right? The mood is there, the kissing’s fantastic; we’re getting it on, you know?”
You nod, listening intently.
“And then she goes to blow me, which is, you know, pretty awesome.”
Mattheo covers his face, clearly embarrassed by the next words he says. “And I fuckin’ say your name!”
You blink. Once. Twice. “What?”
“I say your fucking name in the middle of getting a blowjob!” He groans and lowers his head in shame. “It just slipped out. You know, coz of all our practice.”
Ah, yes. You’d given him several enthusiastic blowjobs during your week of ‘kissing practice’.
“Huh.” You lean back on your hands a bit, thinking. “So, did she break up with you?”
“No,” he groans. “But now she’s convinced I’m gay, and I don’t know what to do.”
You try really hard not to laugh. Of course she’d think that. Even when it was obviously not true. Mattheo was whipped for her. You were just an afterthought. Kissing practice.
“Well, is she still willing to date you?”
“Yes,” he grumbles. “But she’s as big of a gossip queen as anyone else. The whole school will soon think I’m in love with you. Which I’m not.”
You pat his shoulder consolingly. It hurts to hear him deny it, but you both know it’s true. Mattheo’s not in love with you, and will never be in love with—
“At least,” He suddenly looks doubtful. “I’m pretty sure I’m not.”
You blink. He’s… only pretty sure…?
“Saying your name during sex doesn’t mean I’m in love with you, right?”
You stare at him. “I think our kissing practice would sooner qualify.”
“Oh.” He relaxes. “Well, that doesn’t count at all. That’s just you helping me out, you know?”
“Yeah.” You nod slowly. “Right.”
“So that settles it then.” Mattheo nods. “I’m not gay. It was just an accident.”
You’re suddenly no longer sure. But you don’t say anything. He has a girlfriend now, for Merlin’s sake. You can’t crush their relationship off of doubt.
“Whatever you say.”
The two of you sit in silence for a while. Then Mattheo gets up. He stretches a bit, and glances down at you.
You can already see the gleam in his eye.
“Just out of curiosity, though…”
You sigh and pat the bed next to you.
Looks like your kissing practice isn’t over yet.
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sgiandubh · 11 hours
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Señorita Nothingburger
🎶When you see her, say a prayer /And kiss your heart arse goodbye 🎶
Lauren 2.0. Wow: after The Paid Companion, The Wannabe. Unlike the first round of revelations, this time the output has been totally disappointing. Very few things and zero context, which I have to say I was totally expecting, because it didn't exactly fit the agenda being pushed by Marple (amen!). Lightning never strikes the same place twice, right? And then, we had The Follow - a very interesting foolish, yet telling move: but on this, a bit further down the road, mind you.
So, let's ask ourselves along with La Ciccone: '¿Quién es esa niña?' For once, his IG follow has been very explicit:
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Leading whoever to this account...
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Elix Wellness is offering a very specific range of treatments, of which the one for hangovers really got me interested:
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And yeah, even if I have apparently been scooped out by Marple on this one (my bad for sitting on it for a day), shamelessly using my patented methods (that is a lame joke), Lauren 2.0's LinkedIn account is, for once, very clear:
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Her contract as a Travel RN was over by August 2023, as pointed out across the street:
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And then she decided to go independent and open her own company. So, by far not a hooker - decent education, even, at NYU.
Lo and behold, who had Ibuprofen in his hotel room, in May 2023, when they were spotted on that NY Soho terrace, having lunch (didn't we laugh? you bet we did, it was one of my first posts in this fandom!)? S, of course. Hangovers could use both ibuprofen and a good IV cleansing treatment ( see above - such a common offering in that particular town, soon to be out of fashion - but hey: if she believes it can bring money, not my problem).
But... dating her? Not a chance in hell. You see, just a cursory survey of her IG account between the moment her contract as a Travel Registered Nurse was over and the moment her company started to be active, reveals a very busy Mediterranean summer, hitting all the possible cliches:
Before ending that contract, even, some days in Paris with her real interest, (again) checking all the tourist/romantic tropes you can imagine, from dining at the Au pied de cochon restaurant to having a quick macaron bite in the Luxembourg Gardens...
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... then off to Paros, a posh island Greek destination, very much in vogue with the creative crowd, followed by (we are talking mandatory island hopping, here) Mykonos (unapologetically posh and very expensive, LGBTQ+ friendly destination - also beloved by the glam and glitz crowd)
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Oh, hello Soho Roc House, part of the Soho Houses network - rings a bell? What a small world, really.
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... a couple of days in Rome, followed by some quality family time (Mom and Pop, at a minimum) in Puglia, then Croatia (again, the glam crowd of Hvar island), back to Paris for a girls' trip (Montmartre, the Eiffel Tower and a couple other spots in the Marais and around the Rue de Rivoli - cliche forever):
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... then back in Rome for cacio e pepe pasta, Piazza Navona and the Pantheon oculus (artsy girl, told you), followed by Positano and Capri (with Mom and Dad, again). Nothing to write home about, but still trying to sell herself as an up and coming influencer of sorts, perhaps.
Nowhere near S for the entire 2023 Sassenach Summer Tour. How is this equating with dating, that is really beyond me. Seriously. For instance, just before the second sighting, in NYC (June 10, 2023), she was having fun in the Algarve region and Lisbon (of course, Portugal). Probably posted those pics upon her return to NYC:
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Dating? More like convenient pretext. He knew people would hang around that hotel (fans, autograph hunters, etc), especially during OL promo peak time. And he knew someone will take that pic, which was then conveniently placed in *urv's lap, for lengthy talks and more innuendo. Just as the first sighting was conveniently placed in Marple's inbox, to see if topic garners interest and sticks around/can be reused for further shits and giggles. Innuendo and nothing more would be my best bet: neither *urv, nor Marple had ANY positive idea about who she was, back at the time.
And now, the third drop was again placed in Marple's inbox, because attention had to be redirected to this particular gossip topic, in rather dire circumstances following Lauren 1.0.
And for your information, she does not follow S and he does not follow her. But he follows her newly opened joint: hangovers are a bitch, I know.
Why? I think it is clear enough why.
Who dunnit? I will let you draw your own conclusions, really. Again, it is rather plain to see. My belief is that this is not TPTB. And for once, I do not think he met her via Raya. Nope.
I took one for the team and listened to that podcast (if you are very foolish or brave or foolishly brave, you can do the same here: https://youtu.be/vBmcnhe2kwg?si=rRu5YCLHS3eZhuFs ). I mean, what is WRONG with those women? That is legit 14 year old bullshit talk about relationships (or the immature impossibility to have a satisfying one). They essentially explain in that podcast they have trouble decoding 'the man' in some relationships and the way they play out. I was laughing so violently my abs (or lack of them) hurt. At some point, I even thought it was some sort of sophisticated second degree, but NO (#cringe).
Also, I think I should be burning my pineapple pajama summer pants. Seriously. If you listen to the whole bullshit, you'll see there is no damn way to substantiate anything based on that. Zero connection.
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ilikekidsshows · 1 day
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About the throwing CN in the trash can thing, I don‘t necessarily disagree, but why did you completely left out the whole thing about CN‘s constant flirting and calling them a couple and stuff, when LB made it clear multiple times in that episode and before that she doesn‘t like him that way and is bothered by many attempts to make a move on her. Especially in that episode, she‘s already pissed at Glaciator specifically because of it, and Paris as a whole for printing articles and putting up billboards everywhere. The only thing CN does with his shenanigans is irritate her even more, until she has enough.
If I were in a situation where a platonic friend did that to me, I‘d be pissed too. Sure, I probably wouldn‘t throw im in a trash can, but I’d maybe get a little loud at least.
Idk, the garbage toss might‘ve been too much, sure, but pretending like CN has no fault in the situation escalating like that is unfair and LB had all right to go off at him.
That was not what was asked
That's not how the episode frames it
I read over Ladybug and Cat Noir's discussion after the trashcan scene to make sure I understood what the takeaway was. Ladybug did not say, or even hint, that the problem was that Cat Noir went too far or was out of line. She has an issue with being reminded he has feelings for her, period.
This is the same episode where Marinette calls Adrien "my boyfriend who isn't my boyfriend yet" and takes advantage of him being upset to try to win him over romantically. Marinette is forcing her feelings onto Adrien even more than Cat Noir is forcing them on Ladybug, because he at least doesn't expect a relationship from Ladybug in return. The takeaway isn't "don't be too pushy", it's "Cat Noir shouldn't be a bother to Ladybug", because that's what all the lessons in this season seem to be.
And, like, just because Ladybug doesn't return his feelings doesn't mean Cat Noir should hide the fact that he's in love with her to make her feel better, especially since his flirtation is stated to just be an outlet where he doesn't expect reciprocation, that Ladybug understands is an outlet and that nothing is expected from her in return. ("I know your heart's in the right place and that you don't mean any harm.") This has never before been an issue for the two, and now it suddenly is, four seasons in? I don't buy it.
I know the episode is saying that yes, Cat Noir should, indeed, hide his feelings to make Ladybug feel better, but that's unhealthy and I've repeatedly said that the show repeatedly demanding Adrien bury all his feelings so that Marinette can ignore them is wrong.
I also kinda feel like this episode purposefully makes Cat Noir kinda out of character by exaggerating his behavior into such an obnoxious degree and that it was specifically done in order to justify Ladybug getting mad at him (kinda like 'Reflekdoll' implied he'd pranked Ladybug in the middle of a fight, something he'd never do, in order to justify Ladybug being angry in that episode), so it just all feels so fake to me and I can't take it seriously. When I see a show blatantly trying to manipulate me, I tend to veer into the opposite direction out of spite.
So, yes, I went easy on Cat Noir in this episode, but, as you said, that still didn't make anything I said about Ladybug's behavior untrue. Like, Ladybug has reasons to be pissed in this episode, but the writers think Cat Noir alone is the justified target, and that's what I disagree with.
Frankly, if they'd framed that Ladybug's unreasonable anger towards Cat Noir was caused by her totally justified anger at having her private life be so scrutinized, and built the episode around that, this could have been a really good episode that could teach kids about boundaries when it comes to their favorite celebrities. They literally have the framework for that within the episode, but decided to instead give us another "Cat Noir shouldn't even breathe if it bothers Ladybug" episode. It would have been especially valuable since a lot of kids these days are actually following social media or Youtube celebrities or will do so in a few years.
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Fuck I hate being an adult. I need a more adult adult to help with the volatile emotional situation.
#I've sort of made a new friend? Like we met at the same art group and he's also trans which was like pleasantly surprising in our small town#but like. We have Differences Of Opinion#and it's not totally his fault because it sounds like he's had a Lot of bad shit in his past that's obviously made him wary and closed off#but like. He's slightly older than me (only 4 years) and keeps blaming a load of his problems on other trans folks?#like you know the type. The like 'all these nonbinary/other identities the kids are doing are complicating shit'#the 'it hurts to see people younger than me inc. kids get hormones thrown at them when I still can't get 'em' (which... yeah not even true)#and he's told me himself he doesn't engage much with the queer community bc it's too 'toxic'#and like. I can absolutely understand why he could've had some bad experiences esp. since he has some mental health shit going on#but he wants to be friends bc he doesn't know anyone else going through the medical shit and it's like. Yeah no shit you don't?#you decided the community you'd find them in is toxic? and that people in them are doing being trans wrong?#and I think if he was just some guy online I'd like roll my eyes and ignore him#but he's a real person in my vicinity and I feel fucking bad for him#and I can see how much self loathing he has and how much that probably informs the bullshit#like he told me he thinks that trans men and cis men are fundamentally different categories and trans men will never be cis men#but not in a 'the experiences are just different and come with different perspectives way'#in like a self defeating way. Like a I just have to settle for being a trans man way.#and it made me SO SAD#like bro#I'm so sorry for whoever the fuck made you feel like you're fighting an unwinnable battle#and I want to be a friend to him. I want him to feel like there's other queer people out there and there's friends and hope#but also I genuinely could see him being the kind of person who would get really angry at you for no fault of your own#like I already get the distinct feeling he resents me a little#like obviously not too much since he still wants to hang#but he's been trying and failing to get HRT for years and I got it super quickly basically by sheer luck/a doctor who looks out for me#like I'm so fucking lucky. And I just genuinely feel like he's the kind of person who might take that personally.#I just do not think I have the fucking. Emotional tool kit to salvage this shit#But I also can't exactly text him and say sorry I don't think we should hang out so. What do.#.....I wasn't even LOOKING for a new friend! I have enough friends!!! I wanted to make clay faces and look at pretty buildings dammit!!!#now I have to be the emotionally mature one who goes hmmm maybe let's not blame other depressed trans kids for our problems buddy#I'm just gonna have to be like. Upfront about my stance and if he doesn't like it well he doesn't have to hang out with me
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cluescorner · 3 months
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Randomized Robins AU - Ages + Worst Trait Exercise:
Steph (25):
Says her worst trait is her murderous rages (she is exaggerating for dramatic/comedic effect, she’s killed 3 people tops and for very good reason)
Thinks her worst trait is her spitefulness (one of the few traits she definitely got from her father + one that prevents her from fixing her relationships and living her best possible life. She’ll refuse to interact with someone she dearly loves after an argument (happens significantly less after Tim’s death) or will say things she knows are hurtful just for the sake of having the last word. This trait will worsen in some ways as the list of people who have wronged her and those she loves grows, but will also ease up as she matures and realizes the harm it’s doing to her relationships with those she loves most.)
Her worst trait really is her spitefulness
Cass (26)
Says her worst trait is her self-righteousness (she believes that her goals are righteous and, as a result, she is righteous. Cass becomes very defensive whenever someone questions the mission and often does not second-guess herself. This is a trait she only develops later in life as she grows closer to Bruce/learns to understand herself more/starts to love herself more. But she knows she isn’t perfect and when somebody she trusts criticizes something she is doing she is willing to listen. She just usually isn’t the one to START the introspection.) 
Thinks her worst trait is her self-righteousness. 
Her worst trait actually is her obsessiveness (she gets it from Bruce and, while not as bad as him, she will easily become preoccupied with her night-life and the mission if someone isn’t there to pull her back. She will do this to the point of self-destruction and it hurts her relationships with the people she loves, especially Steph.)
Tim (24)
Says his worst trait is his spitefulness (he actively rejects the idea of mending his relationships with the older members of the family and this causes him to also lack good relationships with the younger ones)
Thinks his worst trait is his obsessiveness (similar to Cass, if he gets fixated on a task or idea he will neglect everything else in his life in order to dedicate more time to it. Unlike Cass, he will almost never be dragged away from it unless Pierrot snatches control of the body and forces them to take care of themself.)
His worst trait actually is how manipulative he is (the KING of guilt-tripping and using people’s emotions against them. He’ll do whatever he needs to do to get what he wants, he’s not above crocodile tears. And he will do it to whoever he needs (or wants) to with little care for how his actions impact others.)
Pierrot (Insists: “Age doesn’t apply to me! And even if it did, I'd probably be the oldest. Or the youngest! I’d never be a middle child, though.” Mental assessments by the Bats have put him around 21, with a margin of error of 3 years. Pierrot has called this “blatant character assassination by my eternal rival!”)
Says his worst trait is that he is an irredeemable psychopath without any regard for the wellbeing of others (this is a lie and everyone who's important to him understands this). 
Thinks his worst trait is his parasitic nature (he literally would not exist had Tim not suffered the way he did. Plus he is a living reminder of one of the worst things that happened to many of his loved ones. He is a parasite injected into a functional person's body and contributes to his continued suffering. This is also a largely incorrect judgement of himself, caused by his actual worst trait.)
His worst trait actually is his limited sense of self (he doesn’t really know who he is outside of ‘inheritor to the legacy of the Joker (a man he despises yet also views as a father)’ and ‘chip in Tim’s brain that became sentient’. He slowly develops an identity over the course of his life and relationships with other people, but he lacks the foundations of identity that most people have. Pierrot will often almost become a caricature of himself and what others perceive him to be because it's the only person he knows how to be. This causes wild swings in how he behaves and relates to others, sometimes to the detriment of himself and others.)
Dick (17) 
Says his worst trait is his clinginess (he is a very extraverted person who likes to be around others, which mixed with his fear of abandonment after his parents died means that if he goes a few days without seeing/talking to a friend he will get very anxious.)
Thinks his worst trait is his anger issues (he gets ticked off very easily and will explode on people. He’s kind at his core and is usually very nice, but he has a temper that can escalate significantly. Spoiler (and later Twist) help him channel this anger into something positive.)
His worst trait actually is his anger issues.
Barbara (18)
Says her worst trait is her disability (internalized ableism, she thinks of herself as less valuable than the other Bats because she cannot be out there in the capes like they can. She will grow out of this as she matures and as she learns how invaluable her support for the team is.)  
Thinks her worst trait is her disability 
Her worst trait actually is her overly-independent nature (In an attempt to overcompensate for everything she can no longer do, she has resolved to do literally everything that she possibly can without any help from others. This results in many instances where she either takes on too much and winds up not being able to fully realize any of her tasks or where she makes her life and the lives of others significantly harder by refusing help when offered/not asking for it when she needs it.)
Damian (16)
Says his worst trait is his perfectionism (he is overly critical of both himself and others, taking any flaw or problem and amplifying it to an absurd degree. This is due in part to his life with the LoA (where even a brief misstep could lead to death), in part to how others treated him initially as Spoiler (any flaw was fixated on and used as a reason to either mistrust him or portray him as unworthy of the mantle), and in part due to the fact that he is Bruce’s son (the only person with worse perfectionism problems than Damian). Gradually, Damian has improved in this regard but it’s still a massive barrier to both his own happiness and his relationships with others.)
Thinks his worst trait is his perfectionism 
His worst trait actually is his perfectionism
Duke (16)
Says his worst trait is his definitely-real secret evil side (says this as a ‘my dad is a villain so who knows??’ joke)
Thinks his worst trait is his impulsivity in his words (Sometimes he will crack a joke or say a remark without thinking it through, leading to a LOT of hurt feelings and drama. He’ll say something without thinking it through and wind up seeming insensitive. This isn’t done because of malice, rather because Duke is someone who’s quick to act and speak. But while the mantle of Insight and his awakening powers have helped him with his actions, they do not always help with his loose tongue. As such, Duke gains an unfair reputation in the media as an instigator and will accidentally cause family drama through what he says.)
His worst trait actually is his impulsivity in his words
Jason (14)
Says his worst trait is his bad manners (he grew up on the streets and has no idea how rich-people society works, which he’s pretty insecure about considering he’s now the youngest kid of Bruce freaking Wayne). 
Thinks his worst trait is his reactiveness (Jason never got the privilege of planning ahead for various events in his life, so he instead needed to rely on being swift and harsh in how he could react to situations. It’s saved his life on multiple occasions and helps significantly in his role as Spoiler, but it can also lead to extreme overreactions (accidentally causing kidnapping scare after Jason ran away following a fight with Dick) and a struggle to plan things out ahead of time. As he grows more secure in his place in the family and in life, this trait will lessen but never fully dissipate.)
His worst trait actually is his reactiveness
#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#tim drake#dick grayson#barbara gordon#damian wayne#duke thomas#jason todd#batfamily#randomizedrobinsau#I'm debating whether I should tag this with the Joker Junior tag and those related to it for Pierrot#because like...it's not quite that. but it's also very close to that and is the direct result of that.#but Pierrot would fucking HATE to be tagged as that and sees it as an insult to his identity...which he already has problems with#so I don't think I'm gonna#anyways lmao I am totally projecting my younger self onto Barbara. How could I not? She's literally the reason I view my disability#the way that I do and she actively improved my mental health just by existing and saying some of the shit she did when I was in the#stages of accepting my own disability. So yeah I am projecting a lot onto her because I love her and see myself in her.#I'm mostly basing these characterizations on my favorite versions of them (ie Red Robin 2009 Tim and Birds of Prey Barbara).#so I'm taking the traits I like/think fit in this AU and discarding what I think either is bad or doesn't fit or if I just don't like it.#Damian's 'murder gremlin who is a meanie on purpose because he is a meanie' is entirely unappealing to me and also does not fit this AU#I prefer him when he's portrayed as a sympathetic kid (who is still an asshole) and not a demon child. So that's what I'm using.#same with Talia's 'abusive mother who is totally on-board with all of her father's bullshit and will kill someone for no reason' version#I have read enough comics to know what I like/what is most important and what I don't like/what is#BLATANT CHARACTER ASSASSINATION GRANT MORRISON YOU FUCK YOU SET TALIA BACK SO FUCKING FAR#I also decided to outline their WORST traits because I already know what I like about these characters/their best traits.#most people do. But what was a greater challenge was finding what would make their lives and those of others worse.#what would I hate about this person if I knew them IRL? What would I first suggest they get therapy for? What hurts them and why?#I found these questions really interesting in the context of this AU where some people are forced into completely different roles#the says/thinks/is was inspired by trying to answer that question for myself. I say my worst trait is my impulsiveness but when#I asked others in my life they answered 'oh so you said your weird thing where you don't ask for help right?'
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yotd2009 · 4 months
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oh yeah. the reason why i decided to reread tbhk (and thus it was able to hit me like a truck this time around) was actually not bc of mitsukou going canon but actually bc i maybe accidentally started a tbhk book club w my kids at work and wanted to check the contents of it justttt in case before i put the books in their hands
#tl;dr i have this one 4th grade boy who's a total weeb and knows that i'm the only one in this town who's more into japanese media than him#so he pesters me abt it every time he sees me. and the thing abt this kid is that he gets bored easily and if he does he turns into a#complete menace. now a couple weeks ago. he shows up at the program w one piece volume one and spends the entire time he's there peacefully#reading and not causing any problems on purpose. my coworker owen (the one who climbed onto the roof) and i were shocked and in awe of how#peaceful he was being and came to the conclusion that he NEEDS to have a manga volume in his hands at all times. few minutes later.#he finishes reading and isn't bored yet so he decides to go talk to me abt manga. specifically he starts pestering me abt what shonen i've#read despite the fact that i am a shoujo reader and told him that. but he knows i've read kuroshitsuji bc he previously asked me abt what#the worst anime i've ever watched is and i will never not take an excuse to drag the adaptation. and he figures that if i've read kuro i've#probably read more. and so i mention tbhk and he asks more abt it bc of the name involving toilets and him being a 4th grade boy so i give#brief overview and he wants to read it. and i come up with a scheme to make him peaceful AND to give him something to talk to me abt which#isn't 'i know you've read more shonen manga' 'let me gacha on your phone' or 'i saw an ad for rent a gf. thought it was lame. and now want#you to tell me how it sucks bc i assume you know everything abt every animanga ever' (<does unfortunately know too much abt rent a gf bc i'#a bit of a nosy bastard and watched the mother's basement video). so i offered to bring it in bc i own physicals of the whole series and of#as previously mentioned. gave it a quick reread in advance just in case. and got hit by it. hard. i love you tbhk almost as much as i love#when ppl get into things through me. honestly i think getting to live vicariously through him might be one of the main reasons it got me#this time around and not as much the first time (still loved it the first time though). flash forward a little while. one of the 3rd grade#girls is like. really into reading. and also macabre things. like ghosts. and she has two books from the school library. and has had the#same two books from the school library for over a week. she reads quickly and finished them both in under a day and is now bored out of her#mind rereading them. she asks to read the books i've been letting the other kid read. now there are two of them#romeo.txt
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silentspectres · 8 months
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currently taking -1hp psychic damage from hyperfixation
#okay to reblog#i fully did this to myself i just didnt realize how thoroughly i've painted myself into a corner#i started a durge playthrough of bg3 but since i had have two saves (mercury my solo + shrike who is co-op)#i decided i would use an existing oc i've written for for 13 years#seems logical - i already have his personality and a basic idea of how he'd deal with the durge's tendencies#since in his own canon he struggles in a similar way of not totally being in control of his actions#and has become a puppet to a being that wants to steal his mind to cause discord + strife#and he can easily be slotted into a warlock since in his own canon he made an 'agreement' with#well basically one of the gods of the land for protection#also part of my choice to use him in my third playthrough was pettiness for astarion also having curly white hair#because they unfortunately look similar and i have to live with that#but yknow whatever i was like this is a low commitment playthrough just to explore the durge storyline#and it's easier to use Silent here since his own existing story already has keynotes that would probably overlap#BUT THE PROBLEM IS#IM DRIVING MYSELF INSANE#i need locked in a room with a giant conspiracy board#i cant even share my thoughts because i'd have to first explain who Silent is and what his deal is in canon#and then from there I'd be able to talk about the parallels or the way some of the stuff that's happened in bg3 has already fucked him up#like what was i honestly expecting when i made this choice#i don't know how or why i Thought using one of my longest existing ocs would mean i could get through this playthrough low effort#i have cursed myself to be thinking about it x2 as often because it's both the game im obsessed with and my main mascot Silent#and the worst part is i keep violently swinging from thinking about Silent in bg3 to Silent just In General#so I simultaneously need to see and do things with him in this new setting while dying to tell everyone about him in his natural setting#i'm dying#silent speaks#yes i'm called Silent and he's also called Silent#no he's not a persona/self insert it's like a branding thing
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monschoices · 7 months
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look at my art history prof yall im going to fail
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I just found out three years ago Paul Kupperberg posted a entire rejected pitch for a peacemaker solo to his site like it wouldnt drive me completely fucking insane to discover. like Id just be fine.
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defilerwyrm · 27 days
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There’s this guy in town who owns this little house, and a while back he rescued a street dog that was going to get put down. Turned out she was pregnant.
Problem is, he has mental health & drug issues and couldn’t afford to get them all spayed & neutered, so now there are 6 grown bitches with 15 puppies total, and they’ve dug under his fence in multiple places but he can’t afford to fix it so they go roaming all around town. (When I say can’t afford it, I mean his house is currently running on a generator because he can’t afford his electric bill.) He’s also a day laborer so he cannot take multiple full days off work to take them to the vet an hour away. He’s in a really rough spot.
He’s not a bad person. He’s just overwhelmed.
And this little conservative town with 6 churches for 300 people, have they tried to help their neighbor? Have they adopted the puppies he’s been trying to give away? Have they offered resources?
NOPE! All they wanna do is talk shit about him and complain about the dogs but never lift a finger of their own. And they come to his house to yell at him and cuss him out about the dogs, which does not exactly engender in him a cooperative attitude, as you might imagine.
So after a while of this going on, my mom gets fed up with all the NIMBY bullshit and starts talking to the guy, because she’s done animal rescue for 20-odd years and has Connections. He’s resistant at first, but when he realizes she’s not being an asshole to him on account of his addiction or the dogs, he decides to let her help.
She gets to work organizing and networking. Finds a non-profit that will cover vaccinations, spay/neuter, and flea treatments for all the dogs. Talks the next-door neighbor into paying for materials to fix the fence, since this guy can do the work of it himself. Gets him in touch with another non-profit that will adopt out the adult dogs.
Less than 2 weeks after she decided to do something, all puppies have been to the vet, 10 puppies and 4 adult dogs have been adopted out, and the second non-profit is coming by next week to pick up the remaining 7 dogs to ship them out for adoption.
I’ve learned a lot of things from my mom—some good, some bad—but I think the most important positive message she lives as an example of is this: sometimes, when something needs done and no one else is willing, you gotta stand up and say “I’ll do it.”
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The Daycare
Danny moves to Gotham after Lady Gotham themselves asks for his help.
Gotham's natural ecto has been deteriorating, and considering ecto was what held everything in existence together safely this was a major problem for Lady Gotham.
If Gotham got too bad it would spread to the rest of the world, and could cause it to cease to exist entirely.
So Danny came, as the Ghost King he had the power to filter in great amounts of the corrupt ecto just by being in the city.
But part of his obsession was protection & helping, Gotham already had a lot of help (Batfam). So he decided to focus on helping not with the problem at the top (villains), but with the problems at the bottom.
The problems at the bottom that would be the root cause in breeding more problems.
After all, many didn't start evil, but need and desperation pushed them towards that path.
So Danny moved to the worst part of Gotham, The Bowery.
What did he do there?
Why open a Daycare of course!
Many parents could not get a good or stable job simply because they needed to look after their kids and could not afford to pay the daycare fee.
Danny wasn't worried about money after all the coffers that he inherited as king would take forever to even make a dent in it, and that's only if he was living a very lavish lifestyle everyday for several human generations.
With this in mind his Daycare fee was pretty much nothing.
He would take care of the children of a very wide age group, while the adults could focus on getting a decent job or even returning to school for a higher education for better opportunities.
How does he care for so many children?
He duplicates himself of course!
At least in the very beginning, after a while he begins expanding his Daycare offering classes and tutoring to the children as well as free food at all times.
Who's helping him ?
His ex-rouges and other ghosts who volunteered.
Lunch Lady absolutely adores having so many people and kids to make food for, and Box Lunch can socialize and play with the other kids while she works.
Ember even volunteers to be the music teacher!
Danny has the help of many ghosts who once they heard his plans were very excited to help, many having the obsession with teaching children or in general. Other ghosts helped with building, expanding, and just generally helping maintain the building in great shape. Even building a very diverse and fun playground.
Of course all this catches the attention of Red Hood. Danny just appears one day on his territory with many others and practically having a building appear out of nowhere with how fast it was built, asking literal pennies to take care of the children, and free food for anyone who asks.
All that gains a lot of attention and is rather suspicious.
But the crime rate has been going down since he opened, which is a good thing.
But many people don't want good things and decide messing with Danny and his Daycare.
Unfortunately for them cuz Danny is absolutely down for violence if he's protecting what's his.
~
Villain: "What a lovely place you have here would be a shame if something were to happen"
Danny who has the audacity to fight Gods and win: "Someone call an ambulance! But not for me!
Also Danny: "These hands are rated E for everyone"
~
Other people:"Should we call someone for help?"
The ghosts:" Nah, let him have his fun he needs his enrichment"
~
Red Hood: "He's very suspicious"
Danny is absolutely covered in paint and singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star with the young kids: "Ah yes I'm totally doing normal Gothamite behavior"
~
Lady Gotham is having some self care spa time she's having a grand time: "Should I warn the young king of the other halfa (Jason)? Hmm best not, it'll be more entertaining if it happens naturally"
~
Just an Idea
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roturo · 5 months
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↷ ⋯ ♡ᵎ I FOUND MY BEST FRIEND LITTLE SISTER FINISHING IN HIS BATHROOM WHILE MOANING MY NAME. So... I fucked her.
tags: smut, unprotected sex, dumbification, breeding, overstimulation, a lot of cum, age-gap, gojo is SO obsessed with you, tummy bulge, sadism, breeding, dacryphilia, cunnilingus, reader gets caught masturbating, objectification if you squint, possesive gojo...
A/N: wasn't my last writing of the year lol, wrote this while watching sinjin drowing so npr, happy holidays!!
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You’ve known Gojo Satoru almost for your entire life. It was one day your brother Suguru introduced the both of you just so he could enter the house and have dinner to continue playing with Satoru.
Ever since Gojo has been a daily presence in your house. He was known as “Y/N’s big brother hot best friend” well, mostly to the ones who liked Gojo, because that didn’t stop the other girls from crushing into your brother. 
You told your friends you didn’t like Gojo in that way, since he was off limits for you- Not only because he was your brother's best friend but because it also ruined your hopes thanks to the age difference you had between. 
Being a freshman in college wasn’t easy. Not only you had the weird seniors going for the new girls, but being known as the Geto’s Suguru’s hot little sister didn’t feel like a compliment either. At least Gojo treated you as your own person, not like Geto’s other friends.
Geto invited you over at his dorm, having some of his close friends present, which included Gojo. It turned into an usual occurrence ever since you entered college, your brother making it easier for you to adapt into this new environment. 
All of you decided to take it easy tonight and just watch a movie. Nothing wrong with it, right? Well, there's nothing wrong. While watching, Gojo would try to make small talk with you, most likely because he’s just clingy and Geto is hanging with his girlfriend on the other sofa. Nothing wrong with what’s happening. During scary moments he would lean and hug you. Keeping his right hand on your left thigh, playing with the strings of your tiny small pajama shorts. 
That comment is his, obviously. Keeping the blanket covering both of your bodies and his totally not wrong act. And you’re pretty sure if he just moved his hand a little higher he would feel your wetness coating your shorts.
Gojo was trying to gain your attention. It’s pretty obvious he’s been crushing you for years now, and he’s pretty sure Suguru has commented about it. Taking it as a go to continue flirting with you and adorning your pretty face with reddish colors.
But ever since he entered college, he kinda forgot about his crush and got his head (and dick) into other girls. The first time he saw you again, he couldn’t believe it. You looked so beautiful and.. different in a good way. It’s like his caged feelings escaped and flew all across the room.
And he’s sure that happened to you too, because your pretty face didn’t hide those loving reddish colors he adored.
Coming back to the present, it was kinda weird everytime he hugged you or leaned into you. You seemed uncomfortable… Your thighs caging his hand, making his blood run straight into his cock. But he didn’t think anything about it, and assumed it was normal. 
While he was leaning into you, it became difficult and you decided to go to the bathroom to at least fix the problem going on between your legs and left. After a while, Gojo noticed that you were taking a long time, and he really needed to use the bathroom too to also fix his problem between his legs. He got up, commenting about going to the bathroom too. His friends clearly are not caring about it– too busy in their make out session.
He got out and decided to wait for you to get out of the bathroom. He stood in front of the bathroom door for a while until he realized the door was unlocked so he assumed that you already finished and just went somewhere else. 
He opened the door and then, he saw you.
Never in his entire life did he expect to see such a pretty sight. Your pretty fucking face could make him cum alone. Your mouth making an ‘o’ form with your eyebrows scrunched up, just whimpering his name. Legs opened up trying to find balance sitting down in the toilet.
And you might have an exhibitionism kink or maybe you were just at your limit. Because once you realized Gojo was standing there watching you, it brought you to climax. Taking you an embarrassing amount of time to recover from it.
He couldn’t believe his eyes and shut the door in front of you face and went back to the living room with a raging erection, and never mentioned the incident with you from the remaining time.
As soon as he left, you went up running towards him, begging to not tell anyone about it. And Gojo Satoru, being the asshole he is, saw this as an opportunity.
“Okay.”
“Okay?! Oh my god Gojo, thank you so much- I swear I can explain it was-”
“But,”
Fuck. There has to be a ‘but’
“You have to go out with me and do it on my face.”
Silence…
“I- I’ve never done it before…”
Oh fuck. You’re going to be the cause of the death of Gojo Satoru.
He wasted no time taking you to his dorm, stealing small pecks from you which helped you with the anxiety in your tummy turn into desire for him. Feeling confident enough, once the both of you entered his dorm he closed the door and you attacked his lips with no warning. Earning a groan from him, your hole clenching at the feeling of his clear erection making its presence between the both of you.
He picked you up, a moan leaving his lips once he realized the big difference of size between your bodies, thinking how you would be capable of taking his cock. He had to prepare you enough to fit him.
Your back arched from the bed as Satoru's tongue laps up the slick of your soaking hole, his lips around your clit, sucking like his life depended on it. It's been so long since he felt like this for somebody, the feeling that he just wants to bend you over anything and just... shove his cock in your tight little pussy.
It's like, you're created for the sole purpose of pleasuring him. You just have to be, that's what he thinks as he plays with your body. Fat tears fall out of your pretty doe eyes, your hands finding their way onto his scalp and tugging at his hair.
Why can't you just take it? Look at you now, whimpering and crying, but on the inside you know you love it, being a little whore for your brother’s best friend– you sob as he continues his assault on your poor pussy.
Why do you keep screaming at him to stop? You were just screaming his name some hours again. Is it the overstimulation? But you weren’t prepared enough for his cock!
Gojo knows you better than anyone, he knows you even better than your older brother. Why do you think he’s the one taking care of you this whole time in college? Who do you think has been scaring off the guys waiting in line to have a taste of this pussy? It’s so weird you don’t know about it because everyone thinks you’re off limits right now.  Is it because you’re really that naive? Maybe he loved that of you, how you’re so clueless of how crazy you make him. Being known as “Gojo’s Satoru’s hot next and official last real girl” instead of “Geto’s hot little sister”
 Like- That’s why he's giving your sweet little cunt a lot of attention right now.
“Ssatoru! Please, stop! baby… ‘s too much..”  All your whines fall into deaf ears as he continues without a care. Your pussy felt so stimulated as he sucked on your hole, his tongue licking and his throat groaning at the mere taste of your slick.You can barely lift your hands in exhaustion.
For hours, he didn't stop, continuously dragging orgasms out of you without fail.
“Aww, are you tired? But I finally have the girl of my dreams" You nodded, your tummy full of butterflies, making a mental note to talk about your feelings with Satoru tomorrow- your eyes droopy from all the cumming you've been doing for the past hours.
"But, princess, I'm not done yet~ I have to show you how much I desired you this whole time, how much I have waited for you to finally give and and realize." Gojo purred as unclasped the button of his pants, taking off his own clothing. “ But I guess you were just so dumb to get it all those years ago, at least you kept this cute cunt for me. We still have much time left. Fill you up and break you apart baby” You were faced by his raging cock, hard and full- he sits back down between your legs, lifting them up to his shoulders again, he then rests his hand against your clit. And after that, he slapped your pussy so hard that it made you jump and cry of his name. Never in your life did you expect your dream to become true and have your first time with him. Nor Gojo being a sadist and a have an obsession with your pretty little cunt compared to him
"I'm gonna pump your pussy with all the cum I have, girlie. You made a promise after all."
It's like Gojo doesn’t have a stamina limit in his body- able to go round after round in position after position - but at this point it’s been god knows how many times. He’s addicted to the way you feel around him, the sounds you make when he fucks into you a certain way, or just the look of your fucked-out, dazed face that has him needing more of you. 
“hah- made a big mess down there, huh?” Gojo sneers brashly, heavy hips rocking into you faster at just the lewd sight of his cum from previous rounds smothering your skin. the aching twitch in his cock won’t fade, pleasure burgeoning with every press of his cock into the hilt of your pussy. “I think there’s room for some more, yeah? just one more…”
Your little play doll for him to change, shape, and form. A clear bump showing and leaving your tummy, making Gojo’s eyes go crazier and more full of desire than before. He programs you to do things he wants, and you just nod your head at his words though you don't understand them, just giving him a smile on your lips- your delicate fingers already spreading your pussylips for him, ready to take his cock inside of you. Biting your lip, rolling your eyes as he plunges into you. 
You couldn’t count how many times Gojo’s said ‘just one more round’, but from the fatigue glimmering in his eyes and the raggedness lacing his breath - you can tell this is the last one. So naturally, he’ll make sure it’s the best one of the night. 
“g’na fill you up like you deserve, yeah? lemme fuck this pussy full,” Gojo grunts pantingly between a grin, fingers digging into your waist taut as the heavy smacks of his hips against yours get sloppy and quick. it’s with rasped groans and his hips fully bottomed out that he finally cums for the last time, ropes of white seeping out around his shaft and spilling onto the sheets. he can’t help but bargain and promise to clean the bed if you let him do it all over again tomorrow.
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hungharrington · 7 months
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a little less conversation, a little more action, please
[rings bell frantically] CALLING ALL PPL WHO HAD BAD SEX EXPERIENCES!!! if that’s you, this is for u :D ! this has been in the drafts 4 months and i’m excited to set it free! enjoy! 8k words, fem!reader, oral (f receiving) MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+
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You think you might be the only person your age in the whole of Hawkins who doesn’t seem to get the hype.
Couples have been caught all over in the act. At the drive-in cinema, in the back of the cinema, hell, even beneath the bleachers at school — tongues down each other's throats and pants around their ankles, so caught up in each other that they don’t care about consequences. That it’s that good, that it’s worth the risk. 
Sex. 
You just don’t get it.
Once upon a time, one boyfriend ago, before you’d ever experienced it, there had been an inkling of eagerness within you. Curiosity twined in with piqued interest, you wondered eagerly about when you’d find someone who’d show you all about why sex got its reputation. 
And then you had it— with Samuel Cosgrove in his twin bed when his parents were out of town, 3 weeks into dating him. Your expectations crumbled. 
You decided quickly that everyone must be lying if that was what you were supposed to be looking forward to. It wasn’t… sexy. You didn’t feel sexy having it either.
It only left you feeling somewhat awkward and a bit foolish, with Samuel trying to ruck your shirt up even though you had asked to keep it on. Embarrassment crept in easily at how you seemed to be half a step behind him the whole time, not quite warmed up, not quite sure if this was the mood, not quite ready to take all your clothes off. 
The springs on his bed were loud and squeaked with every shift of weight. The whole thing sort of hurt more than anything.
You chalked it up to the first time, dredging together your hopes even as they rapidly deflated inside you, cemented by Samuel’s sloppy kiss that missed your mouth and landed wetly on the corner of your lips when he finished. 
His sweat stuck to your skin and you didn’t feel sexy, or good, or relieved or anything else the dozen Cosmo magazines under your bed promised you would. 
Next time, you said to yourself. You had even confided in your close friend, admitting to the underwhelming experience, and asked quite plainly when it ‘got good’. 
“The first time always sucks!” She’d assured you, her voice a hushed whisper over the diner table.“Trust me, the first, like, three times totally suck.” 
You didn’t mean to but, subconsciously, three became the number to reach— get through the first three terrible times, and… all would be peachy in paradise. 
And so when the next time was… underwhelming, you weren’t exactly surprised. Worse, was how it wasn’t anything Samuel did but what he said that stuck with you long after he’d drifted off on your sheets. Lying in the cradle of your hips, Samuel had traced his hand up your legs and then frowned, yanking his hand back. You had startled, propping up quickly to ask him what it was. 
“You’re spiky,” he said, chuckling in a mean way. You could feel your chest ache pathetically at his words and you instinctively tried to curl your legs in, wanting to hide them away. So what if they were? It was the middle of winter and he’d surprised you, showing up at your window to sneak in. 
When the fourth time happened and disappointment weighed heavy on you again, you deduced the truth. Sex was some big scam- some stupid joke that everyone was in on and just pretending to enjoy. 
It was easier to blame sex if only so you didn’t blame yourself. But… it niggles in the back of your brain, a line-up of indisputable facts that all point to the same thing. That, maybe sex isn’t the problem — but you are. 
And, look, it’s not really a problem when you’re not dating or seeing anyone.
… Enter Steve Harrington.
Admittedly, Steve was not someone you thought you would ever date. Or maybe it was the other way around, that you thought that Steve would ever date you.
His reputation as a bit of a player was as far from something you were interested in, especially considering your feelings towards sex, but… he had sort of proven you wrong every chance possible.
One month of dates and it’s been no more than holding hands and kisses on cheeks. You’ve kissed him properly, of course, once or twice, but lest you give him the wrong idea, they hadn’t been much more than a quick kiss. Steve still seemed to glow afterward, no matter what. 
It made you feel good. Safe. Warmed you to know he was happy with whatever affection you felt ready to bestow, and never pushed for more. 
You could tell he wanted it. It was hidden in the flex of his fingers and even the not-so-subtle adjusting of his pants when he’d invited you over for a dip in his pool. You’d shown up in your bathing suit— and it was the most amount of skin Steve had ever seen from you and it did not go underappreciated. He had been touchy, hands skirting up your sides, but still respectful. 
And strangely enough, you find yourself… wanting it too. 
Wanting for his touch, thinking about letting your own hands wander across his skin to find what makes him sigh, makes him groan in pleasure, what might make him whine. It surprises you, the ferocity of your eagerness, how it presses your thighs together tightly and licks pure arousal up your spine — even when Steve’s not even trying. 
(He was, you just didn’t know it. Steve knows exactly when girls seem to be looking at his arms and he’s unashamed to say he will flex his muscles and pretend he hasn’t. Robin has caught him doing this several times.) 
And today has been nothing short of wonderful. 
A balmy Saturday which you found yourself swept up in Steve’s company over at his house, laziness fuelled by the golden sun rays of the day. 
You weren’t even doing anything in particular, just enjoying being near each other. You had stretched out on a pool lounger with a book in your hand for the most part and it was with giddy delight that Steve seemed more than chuffed to just lay beside you, sizzling in the sun and then occasionally cooling off in the pool. 
Which is a spectacle all in itself. 
The sight of his chest gives you one or two steamy ideas, especially as it drips with water when he pushes up on the edge of the pool. His biceps bulge deliciously as you peer over the edge of your book, not as subtlety as you might think. You honestly don’t even mind if he catches you staring, not when this is your view. 
Your eyes trace the sparkling drops of water as they roll down his chest tantalizingly slow, through the chest hair between his pecs, down, down, trailing down his happy trail— fuck, okay, he totally caught you staring. 
Your eyes dart back up to his face to find Steve’s already looking at you, his eyes holding a playful mirth to them. His smile looks just a little bit cheeky. Bastard. 
Water splatters on the tiles where he walks as he pads over to collect his towel bunched on the end of the lounger beside your own.
“Good book?” He asks sweetly.
He says it as he scrubs the towel over his face, drying it off and then starting on his hair— he gives it a quick rub over rapidly so that when he pulls the towel away, his hair is sticking up in every direction. He holds the towel to his chest and gives his head a quick shake, like a dog, shaking out the extra water.
When he looks up at you again, beginning to towel dry his bare chest, you realise you haven’t even attempted to answer his question. 
“Book.” You echo. Steve chuckles a little bit and it kickstarts your embarrassment, finally remembering to say something else. You hold the book up to gesture with it, “Yes! It’s good, it’s…” 
Steve’s resumed drying himself and you find your words leaving you as the towel drags down his tummy, leading your eyes with it. Your mouth feels suspiciously dry. Want. You want him.
“It’s…?” 
He’s teasing you again. You startle, wondering if he’s purposefully trying to put on a sensual towel-drying show for you. You’re surprised to find you’re actually glad that he is. 
It feels like another subtle way to affirm all his affections for you without all of the touchiness you’ve yet to reach with him — come and get me, it’s like he’s saying, if you want. 
You snap your book shut. “It’s too hot to be reading, I think.” 
Steve frowns in his worry and steps forward, closer to you. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead lightly. “You feelin’ too warm? Y’gotta careful being out here too long if you aren’t gonna swim.” 
He sounds on the concerned side but there’s a touch of cheek in his voice too, like he knows why you haven’t turned the page for the last 5 minutes. It stokes the firey feeling that’s beginning to burn in your gut. A smile curls at your lips and you huff a little laugh, leaning back and batting his hand away from your forehead. 
“Yes, mom.” You jest, hand falling back onto the lounger. You lean back onto it to get a better view of him. “I’m not too hot.” 
Steve grins. “Oh, I would say the opposite. You are, in fact,” He leans in closer, one hand coming up to push some hair behind your ear. His hand lingers, fingertips on the edge of your jaw. “Very hot.” 
You couldn’t stop your reaction if you tried— which you do try, some sputtering cough with a duck of your head as you feel your body flush hotly at his words. His forwardness is something you’re still getting used to.
Just as you’re about to stumble through a poorly constructed sentence, Steve saves you— reaching over to grab his rumpled t-shirt and pulling it over his head. A small, disappointed, part of you wilts. You catch yourself from being so obvious, scooping up your bookmark and stuffing it in a random page. 
Steve offers his hand out for you to take. “C’mon, we both need some water I think.” 
You ponder if there’s a second meaning to his words as you trail along beside him, letting him lead you back through the sliding glass doors that open to the kitchen with your intertwined hands. Steve gives your hand a quick squeeze before he drops it to open the fridge, peering inside. You lean back against the counter, arms folding loosely over your front and allow yourself to look at him. 
Your boyfriend. It sounds even a bit strange in your head and you know if you tried to say it aloud, it would get caught on the way out, tripping over your teeth. Calling him your boyfriend cements all those expectations you worry so much about… even though, not-so-secretly, you revel in the fact thats he’s your boyfriend. 
“Thinking hard over there, I can see,” Steve comments teasingly and you blink, realising he’s already looking at you. He must have asked you a question and you missed it. 
“What?” 
Steve laughs a bit, pink lips pulled into a slight smirk. He shakes the bottle in his hands a little bit, bringing your attention to it. “Did you want to try some of this? I think it’s sparkling and…” 
He trails off, pulling the bottle closer to his face to scan over the front of it. You can’t help but think the furrow in his brows as he reads is adorable. He hums, obviously not finding what he’s after, and flips the bottle over. 
“…raspberry flavour?” He finishes, looking up at you, brows raised. He gives a little shrug. “That sound nice?” 
You think about it for a moment and then shake your head. Steve laughs in agreement and places ii back in the fridge, some mumble about his mom leaving it here the last time she visited home. He turns back to the fridge still rummaging. “Okay, anything in particular you want?” 
You are thirsty but… your stomach swoops as you realise it’s for something else altogether. If you want it though, you’ll have to ask. 
“Maybe, a kiss?” 
Steve freezes for an instant, then he whips around like he’s not entirely sure he’s heard correctly. The fridge door clatters loudly and he quickly grabs it, stopping the rattling bottles and looking mighty flushed when he shoots you a grin. 
“A kiss?” He checks. He lets go of the fridge doors to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, too aware of his own unsubtle eagerness. “I heard that right, didn’t I?” 
A nervous chuckle scrapes out your throat but you nod. You uncross your arms but can’t settle them, crossing them again nervously as Steve comes closer. His brown eyes scan your face intently, searching to make sure he’s getting every signal right. 
When you smile assuredly, Steve sighs in relief and his shoulders drop an inch. He smiles too, his hand reaching up to hold your faces cupping your cheek. His strokes across your cheekbone as he talks. “Oh, thank god. I was beginning to think, maybe, you just weren’t into kissing me.” 
Then he leans in— and you hold your breath without meaning to. 
The thing is, Steve is a good kisser. A very very good kisser and even your strange gaspy noise as you try to remember to breathe is not enough to ruin the kiss. His plush lips capture yours and have you feeling as hot as the day, a heat blooming in your chest and spreading like wildfire. Your fingers flex at your sides. 
You push up on your toes without even thinking, to steal more of his touch, and when Steve breaks the kiss, you’re embarrassed to find yourself chasing his lips. You clear your throat and avert your eyes, sinking back down— embarrassed at showing how much you’d melted under a single kiss. 
You just don’t realise how it looks to Steve. 
“You do… right?” 
Your head pops up, eyes widening as you try to comprehend his question. 
“Like… kissing you?” You ask meekly, more embarrassed that he’s asking for confirmation. Embarrassed that you’d somehow been overly eager and also convinced him of the opposite in one kiss. God, maybe there is something wrong with you. 
“Yeah.” Steve nods, pulling back a little further from you— like he needs physical space in case you say something absurd like ‘no.’ 
Your hands react faster than your mind, reaching to grab his shoulders to stop him from putting space between you. 
“Yes!” You say loudly. You try to rein in your embarrassment for his sake, swallowing your nerves which feel thick and swollen in your throat. “Yes, I like kissing you. It’s just, I’m… I’m worried.” 
How do you say this? How can you explain that you’ve been so afraid of your kisses going a few steps further because then- then when things get heated and Steve’s expecting things, you have to explain that — that what? 
That you’re not really sure if you even like sex, or maybe that it just doesn’t seem to work for you or — or that there’s probably just something wrong with you that means you can’t figure out how the hell to relax and enjoy sex- and that it’s not his fault but probably totally yours but— 
“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve cuts into your spiralling thoughts, having seen the dilemma spilled across your face. “Stop thinking what you’re thinking and just, like, take a breather.” 
He places his hand on his chest and mimes a deep inhale. You copy him without thinking, chest rising and falling in sync with his, unable to look at him for a moment. When you find the courage to dredge your eyes up to his face, his eyes are soft and his brows have knitted together in concern. 
“Good.” He praises, hand falling off his chest to rub gently at your arm. “Okay, now instead of doing all that worrying up there just… tell me what’s worrying you. Please?” 
Part of you want to huff and hide, to make him really pry so you know that he means it. It’s dramatic, you know — especially because he’s being so good at communicating. He’s asked outright. You try to put the words in the correct order. 
“Just… we haven’t— I haven’t kissed you a lot because I’m worried about what it might lead to.” You say quietly, eyes back to avoiding his gaze. You stare at his chest, the tuft of chest hair peeking out, and do your best to swallow the knot in your throat. 
“And I— I don’t want to disappoint you,” you admit, frustrated at how a familiar sting burns at the back of your eyes. “But I- just, in the times I’ve gone that far and— and slept with someone, I didn’t… I just didn’t like it. I didn’t enjoy it.” 
You squeeze your eyes shut tight, proclamation out in the open, and try to take a deep breath— just like Steve had instructed mere moments ago. Courage gathered, you open your eyes and peer up at him again. 
“Oh,” Steve breathes. You can nearly see the cogs turning in his head, his eyebrows twitching as he takes in what you’ve said and what it means for the two of you. “Oh, well that’s okay. I mean, if you didn’t want to I would never—“ 
“—That’s not the thing.” You interrupt. “I want to. I do. I just…” Your voice trails off, taking on a  trembling whisper as you say the thing you’ve yet to say aloud yet, for fear of speaking it into existence. You can’t quite look at him, eyes focused on the kitchen tiles instead. 
“I think it’s me. I think— I’m worried there’s something wrong with me.” 
Your words hang in the air for a moment and Steve feels his worry shift into something deeper, something closer to devastation, as he realises how deeply you believe what you’ve said. 
You genuinely think there is— even thinking it makes him want to scoff aloud. He forces himself to focus on consoling you here and now, instead of riling himself up with thoughts of whatever— whoever lead you to your immense self-doubt. 
“Well, there’s not,” Steve says plainly. Like there’s no room for discussion— his hand drifting down your arm to gather your hands in his own. They get swallowed, his hands huge when compared to your own. 
“There’s nothing wrong— you- you could never disappoint me in that way.” 
Your eyes lift from the ground to his face, desperate to see if you can see the truth in his words. He can tell- fuck, he can already read you so well. 
“Honest,” He insists, giving your hands a quick squeeze. “I promise you, okay? I- if I was disappointed over something like that it would be- that would be such a dick move.” 
“Well, you wouldn’t be the first.” You mutter bitterly. 
The words slip out without entirely meaning to; you aren’t trying to start a pity party but how are you supposed to explain why you think the way you do? How can you explain why you’re so worried about taking it further? Deep down, you know he deserves to know. 
Steve’s eyes widen for a moment, your words sinking in and cutting as they go. He doesn’t want to think about you sleeping with other people, for all the jealous reasons, but mainly because everything he’s learned today is that nobody has taken proper care of you. 
It twists his heart thinking of some fucking idiot not taking his time with you, not getting you comfortable— so that you get to this point, embarrassed, avoiding his eyes, and so entirely convinced that you’re the problem. 
“Look,” Steve says softly. His hands squeeze yours again and he tries to think of how best to say this. “If we never sleep together, I don’t care.” 
That catches your attention, your head jerking up to look at him — what? That has never even been an option with dating someone. Not in your mind, at least. You find yourself reeling, fumbling for words but Steve just keeps talking. 
“If you don’t wanna, I don’t wanna,” Steve shrugs, like that’s all there is to it.
“There’s nothing wrong if it’s not really your thing.” Another squeeze to your hands. You look up at him, aware you must look a picture of bewildered — there were a thousand ways you imagined this conversation going and this was not one of them. 
A smile pulls on his lips as he chuckles a bit, eyes falling to your conjoined hands. “Hell, for all we know I’d add to your disappointing experiences.” 
You laugh quietly but it’s saturated in fondness. He’s taking jabs at himself to make you feel better. 
“Hardly likely, considering the rumours I’ve heard about you,” You murmur lowly. You find it in yourself to squeeze his hands back, peering back up at him. Steve’s brows rise and he grins. 
“Oh? And just what rumours are we talking about?” He teases. 
“Shut up,” You say, no heat behind it in the slightest. Your chest is starting to feel lighter and lighter as the reality of his words sink in. “You know what they say about you.” 
Steve grins wider. “That I slept with Mrs. Click just to pass her class?” 
“What?” You wrinkle your nose at the horrid picture of your old English teacher with your boyfriend. “No! Did people really say that about you?” 
Steve’s grin fades, edging towards jaded. He gives a soft sigh, tilting his head back an inch. “People say everything and it all means nothing unless it’s coming from the right person.” 
He wriggles a hand free from your unaware tightening holding to brush his knuckles against your cheek tenderly. A piece of hair flops over his forehead, curling back upwards, and the buzz of cicadas fills the empty noise around you.
“So, I don’t know if some asshole told you or you just think that you’re wrong, but…” Steve inhales, his eyes darting between yours. 
The brown in them is intense, holding you fixed beneath his heavy gaze. “If— just you said you want to so, we can try and- and we can go slow and I’ll stop the moment you want to, okay? For whatever reason.” 
You feel a strange bubble of hope churn in your gut. It feels too good to be true. 
“…You’re sure?” 
“M’sure,” Steve nods. “Even for something as small as you don’t like the way my dick looks or—“ 
A laugh startles out of you and you shake your head. “I meant more about stopping but good to know anyways.” You pause a moment. “…Should I be worried?” 
You’re teasing. Steve delights in it, his own voice slipping that little bit lower— his knuckles on your cheek swiping across, down your jaw, til he lingers near your neck. 
“Why don’t you find out?” 
The hunger in your tummy returns with a new heat, rivalling the day. You suddenly feel nervous again, a roll of nerves turning over, but this time it feels far closer to anticipation. The kiss you’ve been yearning to give him, hot and messy, burns up inside you and when you rise on your toes, Steve meets you in the middle. 
Your lower back presses against the counter as Steve leans into you, his mouth slotted against yours. One kiss snowballs into another, and another, the fervency growing as you let yourself give into your desire. Your hands on his shoulders shift, trailing down to feel up the chest you’ve been gawking at all day.
Steve lets out a quiet grunt as your nails dig in and his other hand finds your waist, tugging you to press against his body — his other hand slides into your hair, clutching the strands loosely. You sigh into his mouth, nerves still alight beneath your skin but the way they buzz makes you feel good. Steve makes you feel good. 
Right as his hand scrapes along your lower back, heading lower, you’re both startled by the loud beep! that sounds in the kitchen. At the same time you peer around him, Steve turns and gives a sheepish chuckle, seeing the fridge door still ajar from when he’d been fishing around inside. 
He steps away from you, pushing the doors closed gently. Turning back, your chest swells with pride seeing the effect you’re already having on him; red lips, shiny with spit and a faint ruby colour in the apples of his cheeks. Steve smiles, boyish and charming. 
“Do you wanna keep—“ 
“—yes.”
You’re not going to squander this chance, not going to waste the days' chemistry when there’s still that tiny worry niggling in the back of your brain that today is all a fluke. That Steve’s words might just be an offer, something else that wouldn’t be a first for you. 
Steve grins. He holds out his hand and you intertwine yours with him, letting him lead you. Your stomach swoops as he takes you out the kitchen and heads for the stairs, checking back on you with a quick glimpse. You do your best to show him your excitement instead of your nerves. You’re not sure you succeed. 
Squeezing his hand does the trick for a final reassurance. Steve resumes leading you up the stairs, taking a familiar turn towards his bedroom, beginning to talk softly as he does. 
“Remember, anytime, anything you don’t like, just say the word.” 
You both pause, standing in his room and you swallow the doubts that try to claw back up your throat. Giving a sly glance at him, you smile coyly and wiggle your hand out from his. Trailing backwards to his bed, you pretend to think about it, til your thighs hit the edge of the bed. 
“Hmm… well,” You begin, a touch of sultriness dipping into your voice. “I don’t like… that you’re still wearing your shirt.” 
Before you, Steve huffs a silent laugh, that handsome smile gracing his lips as he ducks his head. He doesn’t disappoint though, his arms reaching up behind his head to shuck his shirt off in one fluid motion.
He chucks it aside thoughtlessly and where it lands doesn’t even matter — your eyes are fixed on his chest. His bare chest that you’ve been given permission to properly ogle at. You swear you feel your mouth salivate a bit. 
“Should've known this would go first, considering the way you were drooling outside,” Steve remarks cockily, folding his arms loosely. It makes his biceps bulge and you swallow again, this time nothing to do with nerves. 
“I wasn’t drooling,” You defend weakly, beginning to fidget with the hem of your own shirt. “I was admiring, okay? There’s a difference.” 
Steve saunters over slowly as you talk, steps slow and measured. He’s smirking by the time he’s before you, so close you can feel the heat of him. “Uh huh. Totally, sweetheart, I believe you. Need help with this?” 
His hand has reached out, fingers pinching the same hem you’re fiddling with. You nod slowly, “Yes, please.” 
Steve’s smirk fades into something sweeter and he grabs the hem with two hands, beginning to ruck it up gently, his eyes locked on yours — you raise your arms when it starts to get caught, holding your gaze to his until the fabric intersects. Your arms drop and you push away the urge to wrap them around your middle. 
Steve drops your shirt much more gently than his own but his eyes are still entirely on you. There’s a shine of awe in them now, flicking up at down the newly exposed skin. 
The intensity of his gaze makes you want to shy away but you chose bravery instead, reaching out to grab his side. Steve jumps, barely an inch, and before you even get a chance to question, he’s smiling. “Y’got cold hands, honey.” 
He draws them up to his mouth, laying soft kisses across your knuckles. Heat flushes through you and you melt beneath it, lowering yourself back on the bed. Steve follows eagerly, still kissing at your hands. He kneels between your legs and when he finally drops your hands from his, it’s to reach out and cup your jaw. 
“Keep breathing,” He murmurs quietly, eyes dancing in amusement. You hadn’t even realise you had been holding your breath. You realise it in one big exhale and this time, when you reach for him, you actually succeed in tugging him closer. You tumble backward into his sheets and Steve comes with you, his forearms planted on either side of you and his body pressed up against yours. 
“I don’t like…” You say, continuing the bit from earlier, your voice quiet and still tinged with a poorly hidden nervousness. “That you keep waiting to kiss me.” 
Steve’s brows hike up an inch but his smile hides his surprise easily, his entire face glowing a bit brighter. He looks fucking gorgeous bathed in the buttery sunlight, even though it’s just beginning to fade towards darkness behind the curtains. 
You stare unabashedly up at him, marvelling at his features that are etched in with adoration for you. You follow down the strong line of his nose, along the soft arches in his eyebrows, the faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that he has from smiling. 
You study the swell of his cupids bow perched above his pink lips and each of the moles dotted all over your favourite face— and think to yourself it’s not fucking fair that he looks like this. Like he’s been carved from marble and cast in gold. 
Thank God he’s yours. 
He doesn’t disappoint you — his lips finding yours and kissing you deeply, his chest brushing your own. Your entire body seems to sigh at the touch, tingling with anticipation — you’ve been overdue for all these kisses for far too long and it seems once you’ve gotten started, it feels impossible to stop.
You kiss needily, your hands moving off his midriff to drift up to his jawline. You cradle it gently, your lips a little less gentle- you try to remember how to do this, how to nip at his lips teasingly, how to soothe them with your tongue. 
Slowly, Steve’s body weight lowers onto you as he focuses more and more on figuring out what you seem to like. Time melts like candle wax and you feel as goopy as it too, all warm and pliable, softened by his kisses. Heat begins to simmer in your gut. You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing when Steve pulls away, his mouth cherry red and his face flushed. 
His fingers slip beneath the strap of your bra, toying with it but nothing more. He checks over your face as he asks, “Wanna take this off?” 
You nod, breathlessly. Up til now, it’s been easy to turn off your brain and let all your thoughts revolve around getting kissed absolutely stupid by Steve. 
But as his hands work deftly beneath you, unclipping the strap of your bra and beginning to tug it down, you feel the first worry creep in — this is usually when your panties follow, then his boxers, and then the expectations. Even with all your enjoyment, you know that if he tries now, you won’t be ready. 
Frustration bubbles up in your chest, mingling with your insecurity and you squirm a bit, trying to think of how to tell Steve without disappointing him. 
You’re so sick of disappointing people for something you can’t seem to help. 
Steve notices your squirming. His head shoots up to meet your gaze, a furrow back in his brow. “Hey, hey, what’s goin’ on?” 
“I…” Words die on your tongue easily, a war happening inside your throat as you debate what to say. You like him— you really like him and don’t want this to end and… he told you he wants you to tell the truth. 
“I don’t… I’m not—“ Your whisper climbs in volume alongside your frustration. “Steve, this isn’t working.” 
The wrinkle between his brow deepens and it’s not a comforting sight. Steve shifts a bit, his hand moving from the straps of your bra up to your face. He pushes back a few stray locks of hair, eyes sincere. 
“Not working?” He murmurs, “Baby, we’ve only just started.” 
You blink up at him once, twice. Your mouth opens and then closes again. 
You know that but you also know how this goes. Well, you think you know— so why do you suddenly feel so foolish? 
“Oh.” You say shyly. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and try to ignore feeling like you’ve just ruined the mood. 
Steve takes it all in his stride, nothing but a twitch in his furrows brows as he takes in your embarrassed expression. He leans down, and kisses your neck, then your collarbone. His lips trail down, down, slow and sensual. Your bra scraps down your arms, tossed aside absentmindedly.
“Sweet girl,” he whispers into your skin. “I’m so sorry.” 
“Sorry?” You echo, a bit breathier as Steve's kisses scrape down your breast. Your nipples peak to attention.
“Mhm,” he hums, his lips wrapping around your nipple and sucking— his hands paw greedily at your back which arches eagerly into his kisses. Steve drags his mouth off, beginning to mouth softly down your breast til his plush lips kiss at your sternum. 
“M’sorry that nobody has ever taken care of you before.”
You squirm beneath him at his words, a warm flush washing through your body as desire spins up inside you. Steve continues as if he hasn’t turned your whole view inside-out— his hand shifting up to thumb at your nipple as he takes your nipple back between his lips. 
“Steve…” you sigh out. 
He’s kneading your body in just the right way, the sensitivity of your chest fuelling the pool of heat growing deep in your stomach. You feel your thighs clench together, hips shifting up instinctively. You haven’t been touched like this before and fuck, it’s a lot. 
“I know, honey.” He says lowly, voice muffled against your skin. He suckles at your nipple and just nips at it, a flash of teeth, enough to make you arch further. Your eyes slip shut and you push your chest further out. 
To your disappointment, Steve pulls back instead. Your eyes open, neck craning to look at him, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths.
“Y’tell me if there’s anything you don’t like, alright?” 
Somehow, the heat in your gut flares that much hotter — knowing that there’s love behind every motion. You scramble for threads of courage and hold them tightly. Then you bend your legs until you can slide them around his waist, ankles crossing and tugging him closer. His cock, straining in his pants, presses flush against your core, and at the same time you inhale, Steve stutters out a groan. 
“I’ll tell you.” You say, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to hold back your grin. It melts away as Steve shifts against you purposefully, one of his hands dropping to hold your hip. The hard length of him grinds against your cunt, catching the angle of your clit in a way that makes you mewl beneath him. 
Steve kisses your breast again but your hands are already reaching for him— fingers cupping his jaw to tug him up. Your lips capture his and this time, when he rolls his hips into yours, the soft noise you make is swallowed in his kiss. It’s fervent, your kisses gaining speed and mess. You tighten your ankles and experiment with your grind and are rewarded with a jagged moan from Steve. 
Faintly, you consider how it makes a little more sense now. That all those desperate motions of making out, rutting against each other, hot open-mouth kisses— fuck, if it was always like this, you get it. You feel like you’re on fire. 
A breeze flutters the curtains across the room, the only indication of time outside your little bubble. It’s far too easy to get lost in the motions— building up your lust until you’re sure the cotton between your legs is soaked through. It feels silly but god, even though you knew this was one of the things making all those past times so terrible, you had just assumed that’s how it would always be. 
The stickiness feels vulgar, your cunt pulsating with heat like you’ve never felt before. It just makes it all feel better though— the warm, hard heat of Steve’s cock, fitting snug between your folds. 
A pause in the makeout to catch your breath. You’re huffing wildly and Steve takes the moment of his undistracted attention to focus on the shorts you’re wearing. He doesn’t ask verbally this time but as he hooks his fingers beneath the waistband, his eyes flash up to yours in question. 
You wiggle your hips and Steve takes his cue, the fabric scraping against your skin as it slides down, down, down. To your surprise, Steve goes with them. He gets halfway down the bed, his head aligned with your belly, hands kneading at the flesh of your boobs before he halts. 
“I wanna try something,” He says, looking up at you. He dots a quick kiss onto your skin as he does, not breaking eye contact. “And I think you’re gonna really love it.” 
He drags out the word really, his voice low enough that it rumbles, nearly a purr. 
“It involves a little bit of this.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss into your navel. He kisses nice and slow, the plushness of his lips scraping across the stretch of skin. 
You shiver a little, feeling how your thighs part instinctively and Steve smiles wickedly, seeing the motion. 
“A little—“ He travels further down, his hands sliding to hold the outside of your thighs. He grips the skin and urges it to spread wider— then takes a greedy fat lick along your inner thigh. “—of this.” 
You squirm. It’s unnerving in the best way, having someone so dedicated to making you feel good— but Steve’s face betrays no hint of insincerity. In fact, if you had to guess, you’d say he even looks excited. 
His large tan hands cover your hips, slender fingers curved atop your thighs to keep them pried open. You’re expecting the next question to be getting the final scrap of clothing off you— a mixture of nerves and excitement at the vulnerability that comes with taking them off. 
He doesn’t though. Drawing a line with the tip of his nose, he nuzzles down from the inside of your knee to your thigh, the warmth of his breath fanning across sensitive skin. He kisses your cunt, once, soft. You twitch, a sweet noise pushing past your lips. 
Steve does it again. This time, his lips part and you feel his tongue press through the soaked cotton of your panties — he kisses again, harder, moving over your clit with his tongue. This time you moan and feel your hips tip up to chase his mouth, surprising yourself. 
Fuck, when have you ever been this wet before? The cotton between your legs is sticky and it only gets messier with Steve’s every lick. The duvet crinkles beneath you as you sigh and sink into it, the low throb of pleasure curling up in your gut. 
“Steve,” you sigh his name like it’s a prayer. 
He hums against your core, his fingers gliding beneath the elastic of your panties but not pulling them down just yet. His hot mouth drops lower, his nose pressing into you at the perfect angle. Your breathy exhale is lilted with moans. 
“See?” He murmurs, so low you nearly don’t hear him. 
“S’Nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Y’just needed…“ His fingers grip your panties and begin to pull and you aid him quickly with a lift of your hips. “…someone to take a little more care with you.” 
Any fear of vulnerability is whirled far away; you need his mouth back on you, like, yesterday. Especially when Steve groans. Like the sight of your glistening cunt is enough to make his cock ache. Your tummy heats further at the thought. 
His hands re-situate, soothing up to your tummy before sliding back down to grasp the tops of your thighs again. He pulls them open wider. 
Pure fire streaks through your nerves, a sweltering pleasurable burn twisting in your gut as Steve’s tongue licks through your folds in one bold stroke. Your hips try to twitch forward but his hands are already there, holding them down. 
There’s one more pause, one soft curse of adoration, as his nose nuzzles along the soft skin of your inner thigh. You feel unbearably warm in his sheets, heat pulsating and dancing beneath your skin. 
“Steve,” you whisper his name again, urging him gently. “Please.” 
“I got you,” He murmurs in response.  “You don’t gotta say please with me,” He hums lowly, then kisses right on your clit, languid and warm, his tongue swirling around it deftly. You cry out softly. 
He drags his mouth off you and if you looked down, you’d see the soft sheen of your slick on his rosy lips. “I wanna give you everything you want.” 
You gasp as he finally puts his mouth on you properly, pleasure dribbling through your core as he suckles on your clit. He’s killer with his tongue, twisting it and flattening it against your bud in a way that has you squirming. The sheets scrunch in your frenzied grip. 
For the first time, you understand why pornos even sound like that— taking a moment to realise the whiney gaspy noise you’re hearing is coming from you. 
“Oh god,” You whine prettily. “That’s— uh— fuck, that’s really good.” 
Between your thighs, you hear and feel the moan Steve gives back. Your thighs are twitching, torn between trying to keep them apart or warm your boyfriend's ears. Your hips are moving, subtle grinds up into Steve’s face and he takes it all appreciatively. He sucks and slurps, tongue dragging down your folds to toy at your clenching hole— making you squeal. 
“Fuck,” he rasps, pulling back for a moment. His voice is doused in arousal. “You’re so wet.” 
Heat plumes low in your tummy as he dives back in, a groan echoing from his throat. The coil in your gut tightens, winding tighter and tighter. Your chest heaves as your voice melts away until everything you say is a whimpery little “yes, yes, yes,” and Steve’s name. 
His huge hands are still pressing your thighs apart but one shifts suddenly, barely noticeable in your mounting euphoria, until it’s tapping at your hand fisted in the sheets. 
You lift your head, confused, and peer down at him. 
It’s a mistake. His hand is resting on the bed in front of your own, propped up and fingers spread. It's clear he wants to hold your hand. Chest heaving and still lightly moaning, your eyes dart from his hand to his face — and that’s the mistake. 
He’s fucking beautiful. Hair mussed, rosy-cheeked, and dark-eyed, Steve can only hold eye contact for a moment before his eyelids slip shut as he moans against your cunt. Fire blooms under your skin, coil turned tighter and together. He wants to hold your hand. Your fingers just manage to tangle with Steve’s, holding tight, as you tip over the edge with a cry. 
It’s intense — jagged waves of pleasure that ride through every nerve in your body and have you nearly overwhelmed with how fucking good it feels. Incoherent babbling whines pour from your mouth. Your thighs lock up, beating Steve’s strong hold now that he’s down to just one hand, and close around his head. He moans in response, his tongue never letting up, licking and sucking at your cunt fervently. 
And he holds your hand the whole way through. 
You feel thoroughly flattened by the time your orgasm tapers off, your legs relaxing and flopping tiredly against the bed. Vaguely, you’re aware you should apologise for likely cutting off his oxygen flow for a good couple of seconds there but you’re too out of breath yourself to do so. 
Your chest rises and falls and a sweet contentment settles into your skin. You feel happy, loved. Without meaning to, an awed laugh titters out of you. 
Then another, and another. You can’t seem to stop laughing, a gleeful silly joy as you release his hand to bury your face in your own. 
“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. Then, slightly louder. “Holy shit, Steve.” 
You hear him laugh and the sheets crinkle — and then he’s in your field of vision, hovering over you with an adoring grin on his face. His lips are still so pink and there’s a shine on his chin. He wipes it away absentmindedly, focused on you. 
“I take it you enjoyed yourself?” He says, genuine and not at all cocky. He settles down, one arm on either side of your chest. One of his hands sweeps over your face sweetly. 
You nod, tucking your bottom lip behind your teeth to constrain your grin. 
“Uh huh,” you say, voice all gooey. “I didn’t—“ 
You pause. “I thought— and then you— and Oh my Goddd.” You cover your face with your hands again, groaning exaggeratedly as you try to roll over and melt away into his bed sheets. 
“See? I told you it wasn’t you,” Steve says, peppering little kisses where he can reach. He kisses your shoulder, along the side of your face. He coaxes you out gently, pressing your shoulder to roll you onto your back. You face him properly.
“There is nothing wrong with you.” He reminds you. You’ve never been so happy to be wrong. You nod, hair scrunching against the pillow behind you. 
“Okay,” You say, with a small smile, finally believing it. “There’s nothing wrong with me.” 
Steve’s stare is glowing with fondness and the next moment, he’s lurching forward to press his mouth to yours. You kiss back greedily and lazily all at once.
He pulls back and you hate how the thought comes to you, unbidden; the smallest wrinkle creasing between your brows. 
“But,” You begin, voice small. “That wasn’t sex though.” 
Steve’s head tilts an inch, like an adorably confused puppy. “What do you mean? That was sex.” 
“What? That was— that was like second base.”
Steve huffs a laugh, though not directed at you. His gaze shifts above your head as he chooses his words. “Uhh, sure, if we were still in high school. But even then, that’s still sex. We just had some sex.” 
Stating it so plainly, you can’t help how it makes you giggle a bit. Steve rolls his eyes, even though you can tell he’s entirely endeared. 
“We just had sex,” You repeat his words, eyes bright and grin growing. “And I really enjoyed it.” 
Steve laughs loudly and steals a quick kiss from you. Holding up his hand, he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Just had sex high-five?” He jokes. 
You slap your hand against his anyways, twisting your fingers to hold onto his hand as you let them fall to the bed. Steve beams, cuddling in closer, the tip of his nose nuzzling against your own. 
Turns out, you might be starting to get the whole big deal around sex after all. 
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