#but the information is still the same. one year apart it's still 'i was running from town to town and people were awful to me' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sonarspace · 8 days

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safeguard, kento nanami

synopsis: bf!nanami comforting you after an incident with a stalker. content: (dealing with a stalker). comfort. fluff. wc: 1.1k a/n: based on an ask. ee being stalked is so scary. need all stalkers to d!3 immediately 😒!

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. on your way to your boyfriend's apartment for a movie night you stop at a grocery store to grab some snacks. you get back in your car and start driving to his place. 15 minutes.

you're on a red light when you notice the van behind you has their headlights off and a dark tint. it's nightime so and the street lights are dim so you couldn't really see their face.

you start getting anxious, trying to think if you've seen this van before. and you immediately recall that it's the same van you saw at outside your gym a few days ago, with a beaver sticker on it's side.

the light turns green and you drive slow to see if they would overtake you but they don't. your anxiety is at an all time high confused about what to do, you call your boyfriend. "pick up, pick up," you mumble anxiously when the call goes to voicemail. you call him once more but still no answer.

you take a turn and the van follows. you're getting closer to your destination but the van is still tailing you. your phone rings and you quickly pick it up "hey sorry, i was in the kitchen. where are you? it's been twenty minutes." nanami's voice comes through.

"kento," your voice is shaking as you’re on the verge of tears. a sense of relief flooding you at hearing his voice, finally. "baby? are you okay? where are you?" he questions you worriedly. "yeah 'm okay. i— there's this van following me. i don't— i don't know what to do," you reply.

"what do you mean following you? where are you?" he asks and you can hear dishes clanking and nanami whispering a “fuck” when he hurts himself. "remember i told you about that weird van i saw at the gym the other day. i think it's the same one. i'm close to your place. i don't know how to lose them."

you hear him grab his keys and the apartment door shut in the background when he replies, "go to our usual cafe. i'll meet you there. okay?"

"okay. don't hang up." your breathing is erratic. "i'm here baby. don't worry, i'm here." he comforts you. "tell me. what snacks did you get for the movie," he asks trying to distract you. his footsteps hurried as he half runs to the cafe trying reach you quicker.

"i see you and i see the van. park on the side and come inside," he says and you let out a sigh of relief. he quickly snaps a pic of the van and sends it to ijichi 'get me information about the van and driver. quick'.

you make your way into the cafe and run into his arms. tears coating your face. "you're okay," he whispers into your hair. "i was so scared," you mumble into his chest. he hugs you tighter. "me too baby. but you're okay now. they can't hurt you, alright?" he pulls back a little to see your face.

you nod as you wipe the tears, "i'm sorry for—" you try to apolgize for worrying him but he quickly shuts you up "don't. don't apolgize." he furrows his eyebrows. "i'm always here for you, yeah? gonna always take care of you, don't do that." he gives you a quick kiss on your forehead.

"come on, let's go back home." you walk out of the cafe and the van is still there, parked a few meters away. "it's still here" you speak in a low murmur. your grip on his hand tightens.

as you start walking back to his place, nanami gets a text back from ijichi 'van belongs to an ex convict. served for 2 years for violation of restraining order and stalking. got out last month.'

he turns around. his expression something between disgust and rage. "fucking creep, let me go have a chat with him," he drops your hand but before he can go further you grab onto his arm "no, please ken. please. let's just go home," your voice quivers.

not wanting to stress you further he does as you say. "i'm going to take a shower," you sigh walking into the apartment. he texts ijichi and tells him to handle the guy.

as he’s waits for you he fluffs the pillows on the couch, adds a blanket, and dims the light, — wanting to create a comforting atmosphere for you. he decides you’ve been in the shower for far too long and joins you.

your head’s resting against the shower tiles when you hear the door open and shut. a quivering breathe escapes your lips as his hands wrap around your waist pulling you back into his chest.

you turn around in his arms and bury your face into his chest. your body trembles with each silent sob. he tightens his hold on you. “you’re safe. you’re okay. i’m here. never going to let you get hurt, my sweet angel. i promise.” he reassures you, gently rubbing your back.

at his words you finally look up at him and his heart clenches at the hurt in your eyes. he swears to himself then to make sure that guy ends up in prison again and to do his best to not have you feel this way. he kisses your forehead as if sealing his vow. he pulls you out of the shower and dresses you in his clothes.

he spends the next couple of days not too far from you. driving you to and from anywhere and everywhere you wanted to go. your personal chauffeur, bodyguard, boyfriend all in one. you were so grateful for him.

soon enough that guy ends up behind bars. he gives you a brief background on the guy in the van and how you were one of the few victims of his stalking mission.

one night while you’re watching a movie together, nanami hands you a black box with cute bow on top. inside it, you find a key. “we should pack whatever you have left at your apartment so you can move in with me,” he says – catching you off guard. you snap your head towards him and he smiles at you cheekily.

ever since you’ve moved in with him, he urges you to go out on your own – not wanting you to live in constant fear. apart from that nanami hires security personnel that follows you around from a distance to not overwhelm you but still makes you feel protected. moreover makes him feel at ease knowing you’re under safe watchful eyes.

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

a/n: comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!

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chungmyunglover · 2 months

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DCxDP au

I read this au where Talia apparently killed the flings of Bruce and the children with said flings. Like Bruce isn't aware of their existence and Talia tracks them down and kills them. She killed them so Damian is Bruce's only heir .she wanted to make sure he was the only one. She was unaware of Danny . He was adopted by the Fentons at the age of 4. The Fentons absolutely adored him. They still do.

Jazz wanted to be an older sister but since jack and Maddie are around ecto 24/7/365 they were unable to give her one. They jumped at the chance of adopting Danny when police found out his mom was dead. They found him wandering the streets of Amity . They were compelled to adopt him right then and there. They don't know why though.(The city already adopted him.The Fentons are her knights. That is why they aren't chased out of Amity for their craziness. The first Gen of knights were witches.The Fentons are the descendants.The Amity Parker's love the Fentons,even if they don't admit it.)

When he became a ghost,he became Amity s Knight.(Gotham,Amity,and Metropolis are triplet cities.Amity is the oldest, Gotham is the second oldest, Metropolis is the youngest.They all have their Knights.

Amity has Phantom (Danny) and Red Huntress (Valerie) . (I know not very OG)

Gotham has the entire Batfam

Metropolis has mainly Superman.

He had a total of like 4 kids and Danny is one of them.She killed them(-Danny) but they became part of the Infinite Realms and have high power in it.

Danny dies(well,half dies ) like he did in Canon.After defeating Pariah Dark ,the reveal goes great. He becomes High King of the Infinite Realms and gets to meet his siblings. They absolutely adore him. They are all at least 6 months apart.

Danny is 18 (Male)

Marianne is 18 1/2(Female

Nathaniel is 19 (Male)

Julianne is 20(Female)

They all have high status in the Realms. Danny views Dani as his daughter. Danny's siblings all love their niece. When they meet Jazz,they absolutely love her. They instantly claim her as theirs. Lord don't have mercy on anyone who takes romantic interest in her. She has Infinite Realms on her side,her family, Amity Parker's,4 siblings,and a niece.

She and Nathaniel were born on the same day and year They consider themselves twins in a jokingly manner and everyone rolls with it.

Damian tells his family about what Talia did.The Batfam ain't happy knowing they could have had 4 siblings. Damian says he wouldn't mind sharing the legacy with them. He is upset as he was there during the aftermath of their deaths. They are under the impression all are dead but they actually are, except Danny who is only half dead.

Damian is only 15 and a party is thrown. Constantine informs the Batfam the Infinite Realms royalty came to the party,so they should be on their best behavior. A Batfam member sees the 10 of them at the party.(Danny, Tucker ,Sam Marianne,Nathaniel,Julianne,Danielle, Jazz ,Jack and Maddie ).They see Danny's,and Nathaniel's resemblance to Thomas Wayne. They also see Marianne and Julianne's resemblance to Martha Wayne .They take a test and what do you know!

A perfect DNA match to the 4 dead kids and the fifth one being an apparent daughter of one of them. The Batfam member runs to Bruce with the impression the party is over and shouts it out as he enters the room. Only for the party to have been continuing and staring at the Batfam member .Damian heard and looked at them. They all book it as the Ballroom erupts in chaos.

Bruce is going through all 4 stages of depression in a matter of seconds.Damian is sorrowful at the fact his existence killed them. Batfam are now fully aware they are Infinite Realms royalty. Constantine is being contacted on his soul's extended warranty.

#Bruce Has 3 Fully Dead Kids #Bruce Has One Half-Dead Kid #Bruce Has A Grand-daughter #Bruce Tries To Adopt Them #Amity Parker's Stop Him #Amity Park Stops Him #Fenton's Stop Him #They Don't Like Him #Damian Is Still Feeling Quilty That His Existence Killed Them #dpxdc #Danny Phantom #Sam Manson #Tucker Foley #John Constantine's Soul's Extended Warranty #Lol #dcxdp

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fadingsnow · 6 months

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𓆙 london boy - CORIOLANUS SNOW x f! reader

summary and tw: coryo grovels at your feet, begging for forgiveness after years. pt. 2 of cardigan loveliess!! 18+, smut, mr. snow kinda basically bends u over on ur table?? a/n: uh sorry for making it a lil sad in the beginning but snow prevailss, divider credits : @cafekitsune

taglist: @targaryenmoony 𓆙

He fell down onto the sofa, letting his head sink down against the pillows. Still, after five years, you plagued his thoughts. Tapping his fingers against his thighs, he didn't know what to do.

You hid yourself from him, not wanting to deal with all of the emotions behind his betrayal. You were able to find a quaint job, meeting the line of being able to finance yourself barely. Atleast you had a trust fund from your family, one of the benefits of the Capitol you suppose.

The one time, the one time, you decide to come back without any information on what was happening, you see him. You had heard small bits of Coriolanus' life from Tigris, but refusing for her to tell him she was in contact with you.

He still wore the same pin you gave him for his birthday. You remember his sombre look clearly, eyebrows furrowed and pursed lips. He didn't like being reminded of it, his mind forcing him to realize he had passed yet another year of his.. situation. You had gotten to work, spending days on it. You weren't that good of an artist, but you were able to engrave, "Snow lands on top." Clearly he did.

You really could go anywhere you wanted, but home. But now you had returned. You still considered him home. You thought this over, murmuring to yourself about how everything had changed. Did he still think of Lucy Gray? Did he even feel remorse - or guilt when he thought of you?

A knock at the door makes you jump out of your thoughts. What could it be now? You looked around the place in frustration, your rented apartment for now. You weren't sure how long you were going to stay, just going to meet some family and leave immediately.

You walked up to the door, getting on your tippy toes to look through the peep hole. At first, you saw whitish-blonde hair. Could it be Tigris? She never mentioned anything about visiting today.. You squinted your eyes, did you see the wrong Snow?

"Is anyone home?" You froze, stopping any movement. The click in your heart was pushed. If he couldn't hear your heartbeat, he must've been deaf. You went to sit down on your coach the quietest you could, trying to hide from what was happening. Hopefully, you were just going insane and imagining his voice. You told Tigris not to tell him where you were. You're going to have a lot of things to say to her when he leaves.

You waited a few minutes, only to check again and see that familiar face that you swore to not let yourself get attached to again. Your hand shakingly grasped the doorknob, going to unturn the locks. You couldn't run away forever. You should get it done and over with.

When you opened the door, you weren't sure what you should've expected. Furiosity? Sorrow? Joy?

You were greeted with someone you didn't know, Coriolanus Snow.

You stared at him in sheer surprise, not really knowing what to say. Should you shake his hand? Maybe that's strange considering the.. acquaintance you used to have.

He shuffled his feet, hands in pockets before he nodded towards your apartment. "May I come in?"

"Not like I can say no." You murmured, before fully opening the door. He stepped in, looking around anxiously because of you for the first time in his life.

He took this as his cue to go sit down, his hands pressed. "I want to apologize."

You scoffed, "Well, great. I forgive you." You didn't really want to deal with it anymore, trying to ignore the nagging feeling to listen to him.

"You can't see it? I'm still in love with you, not Lucy Gray. I regret it so much, I couldn't function. I dedicated those speeches all to you! Why the fuck would I care about how the Capitol was affected? I care about you! And now you're here, so please." He suddenly rose up, his desperation fuelling him to beg for you.

"And there's no way you don't want me back." He finally declared, his voice turning a little quiet now.

"And how do I know you won't do it again..?" You tried to forget him, you really did. His eyes never left yours, only a flutter of a blink made him turn his attention away from you.

"I love you, and I've known it for a long time. Since the Academy, I was too stupid to realize it. I let her get in between us, and for that, I'm sorry." He looked at the ground, what if you didn't forgive him?

Without thinking, you rushed to give him a tight embrace. Unabashed, you smelled him, and he still smelled the same. His hands went to wrap around your waist.

You hesistantly went up to kiss him. He eagerly returned the kiss back, but not wanting to scare you away. His lips were intoxicating just as much as you remembered. He broke into a grin, wanting to just bask in your essence.

He managed to murmur between breaths, "More?" His hands moving up to cup your face, tracing along your jawline and down your neck. His fingers trailed lightly over your bare shoulder before stopping at the hem of your dress, teasingly brushing against your exposed thigh.

You mumbled a yes, looking up at him.

He leaned in closer, their bodies pressed against each other intimately as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tentatively exploring your mouth. His hands moved higher up your thighs, reaching for the hem of your skirt.

His hands gripped your waist tightly as he lifted you up onto the nearest table, bodies pressing against each other intimately. The kiss became more aggressive, tongues tangling together in a dance of desire. He broke away for a moment, panting heavily. "C'mon..." he panted, reaching down to finally unfasten your skirt, revealing your lacy black underwear. "You're mine now."

"Tell me you want this," he murmured lowly, his voice husky with desperation.

"I do, Coryo. You know I do."

He hurriedly pulled it off, before slowly taking off his underwear. He took no time to tell you to spit on his hand.

"What..?" You squeaked out.

"Spit." Reluctantly, you spat on his hand.

He slid it over his now hard cock, wanting it to feel easy to slide into you. You let out a loud cry when he let it move through your folds, resting in place for a minute.

His head fell against your shoulder, inside of you but calm.

"You feel okay?" He asked, hot breath against your neck. "Can I move?"

"Mhm."

He moaned, thrusting slowly at first, savoring the feel of your tightness around him. "You're so beautiful, you know that? No, don't look away. Look at me." He grabbed your chin, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

Coriolanus complied, increasing the pace of his thrusts while maintaining a gentle rhythm. Each powerful stroke sent waves of pleasure coursing through both of them, the moans melding together in harmony. His hands roamed freely over your body, caressing your breasts and pinching her nipples gently. "Tell me you want it... tell me how much you need this," he panted between breaths, his voice hoarse with desire.

"Say my name, love..."

"Coryo!" You moaned his name, intertwining a hand with him.

Coriolanus's fingers dug into your hips, nails scratching lightly as he picked up the pace, his cock pounding into your tight cunt. His orgasm was building rapidly, and he knew it wouldn't be long before you both reached your peak. "Almost... almost..." He groaned out, his voice strained with desire.

"Here it comes," he warned just moments before releasing a hot stream of cum inside her, filling her completely. Panting heavily, he pulled out slowly, letting their juices trickle down her thighs.

He looked at you in pride, almost as if he was proud of the artwork infront of him. He went to cup your face, whispering, "You know I love you, right?"

"Depends, do you know I do?" You grinned at him, teasing him.

"President Snow loves meeee!" You said in a sing-songey voice.

"Well, I'm glad you're aware." He smirked at you softly, before bringing you in for one more kiss.

yk i love a londonn boy - me

#coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x reader smut #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow fluff #Spotify

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sunvmars · 9 months

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sour | s.r. [2]

pairing: steve rogers x afab/fem reader

↞ previous | next ↠

word count: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, brief mentions of abortion, pregnancy/pregnant reader- that's ab it

summary: you and steve discuss plans for the pregnancy, steve faces the consequences of his actions

a/n: oh boy have i got a little plot twist coming for y'all soon. also, the chapters will get longer as more of the story is revealed!

“I’m pregnant, Steve.”

Steve's hold on you became a little tighter. He found himself unable to fully process the information you'd just dropped on him; you being pregnant wasn't something he had even considered. You stood still in his arms, allowing him time to process the news and awaiting any type of response from him. He took a deep breath, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. The words kept repeating in his head; she’s pregnant, she's pregnant, she's…pregnant.

"Steve? Did you hear me?" you questioned, voice slightly muffled by how you were being pressed into his chest.

Only after hearing your voice again did he move. He released his grip on you and took a step back to look you in the eyes. His eyebrows furrowed, his expression containing a mix of disbelief and confusion. There was something else hidden below the surface of his gaze too- a deep-rooted concern. A concern not only for you but for the tiny little life growing inside of you too, the life both of you created.

"What..? I'm sorry, this is just, uhm, wow."

You cock an eyebrow up at him, "That's all you've got to say?"

When he doesn't respond, you scoff. His eyes search the room as he tries to avoid direct eye contact with you.

"Well, now that you've made this abnormally awkward, I think I'm gonna go home now," you chuckle, trying to hide your irritation, ''Since I'm having your baby, please feel free to call me when you've got something else to add, alright?"

He grabs your arm when you turn to leave, "Wait. I'm sorry, y/n. Come inside, please. We can talk in here.”

Reluctantly, you allowed Steve to guide you into the apartment. His grip on your arm stayed gentle but firm like he thought you were gonna turn and run away at any moment. Once fully inside, you noticed how everything seemed so familiar yet foreign at the same time. Most of the pictures were off the wall except for two.

One picture was one that Tony had taken at the beach a year ago. The photo was of you, Steve, and Bucky sitting in the sand. You were laying in Steve's lap with your head resting on his chest while playing rock, paper, scissors with Bucky for the last slice of Steve's birthday cake.

The other photo just had you and Steve on your first date. You'd made him take a picture with you in front of the movie theater you went to. It was the oldest theater in town and, at some point during the night, you made a joke about how the theater was the only thing as old as him in the city.

He'd rolled his eyes at the joke but found himself unable to contain a smile when he saw your face light up as you laughed. You were witty, and that was his favorite thing about you, even if he was on the butt end of the joke. As long as you still had that pretty smile on your face, he didn't care how many jokes you made about him.

The soft, white couch you'd picked out together when the two of you first moved in was still there too and so was your favorite vase. The vase was missing the flowers though- the flowers he'd come home with every Friday without fail. More often than not, the ones he bought the week before weren't even dead yet, but he'd buy you new ones anyways.

"Ma used to tell me that if someone buys you flowers and they don't die for a long time, that means they really love you. But it's unavoidable that they'll die eventually, right? So I figured that if I buy you new ones before the old ones die then you'll never get the chance to forget how much I love you," he explained, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead.

"Right, but what if I forget anyway?" you joked with a smile.

And then he shrugged and gave you a peck on your nose, "Then it's a good thing I'll be right here to remind you, honey," he cooed.

You bit your tongue, forcing the lump in your throat to go back down upon remembering all of the moments you shared. This was your home until just a couple of months ago, and now it felt like you were standing in a shell of what used to be your safe space.

Steve led you to the living room, the last room you'd been in before he gave up on your future together. He gestured for you to take a seat and you plopped into your favorite recliner that didn't even seem like it'd been touched since you left. The tension in the room was palpable as he sat on the far end of the couch, the side farthest away from you.

"You scared I'm gonna bite you or something?" you joked, rubbing a hand over your aching stomach.

He gave a short-lived chuckle before speaking, "Listen, I'm sorry for my reaction," he began, his voice filled with sincerity, "I didn't expect this, and I'm sure you didn't either."

You nodded to show your understanding, "It's alright, this is a lot for both of us."

"What do you wanna do..?"

"Me?"

His brain blanks as he tries to think of whether or not he'd said something wrong.

"Yeah?" he finally says, almost saying it like a question.

"It's not just my decision, Steven. You get a say in this too."

"I do?"

You laugh a little at his confusion, "Yes. You do."

"I'm sorry, it's just that with everything that happened I... I'm trying to say that I'd understand if you didn't want me involved in this decision," he says, looking down at the floor to avoid your eyes.

"Steve, look at me," you begin, pausing until he looks back up at you, "I wouldn't leave this choice up to just me. Whatever decision we make has to work for both of us though."

He looks up at you with surprise etched all over his face, "Thank you, y/n. It's more than I deserve."

"Mhm, tell me about it," you sigh while still rubbing a hand soothingly over your stomach, trying to ease the nausea.

He's silent, avoiding the dreaded breakup conversation. Luckily enough, neither of you are ready to have that discussion yet. He claps his hands together in his lap quietly and clears his throat to get rid of the silence.

"Do you know how far along you are?"

"No, not yet. I have to find a doctor. I'll ask Tony to make the call for me tomorrow."

"So, what do you wanna do?" he asks again, emphasizing the 'you,' "Have you thought about...you know?"

"The alternative? Yeah, I thought about it for a bit, but I think I wanna keep it. I've only known about the little guy for less than an hour and I'm already attached."

What you said was true, you did think about every possible alternative from abortion to adoption; but at some point on the way here, you'd decided on keeping it. You feel a bit of hope when you look down at your stomach. You smile to yourself, momentarily forgetting all your troubles. Though your smile is quickly replaced with a frown when you remember the situation at hand. You look up to lock eyes with him, seeing he's clearly hesitating to respond.

"But if you don't want this, I can raise him or her alone. Y'know, move out of town or move a few states away to be closer to family so there are no unwanted run-ins. The whole nine yards," you say softly, wiping a stray tear off your cheek.

"Oh, y/n," he mumbles, "I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be like this- I didn't want any of this."

You take in his words, trying to make sense of them. You felt your heart beginning to break as he remained silent. How can he just give up so easily before it even gets hard? Not that you'd pressure him into raising a kid he didn't want, I mean you did give him the choice, but his words still come as a surprise.

"So, the whole nine yards it is then?"

"I'm sorry, y/n..."

“I need you to look at me and say it, please.”

Steve looked around the room, appearing as though he was about to cry. His eyes finally land on you and you swear there's bits of guilt and regret in them.

"I don't want this baby."

That was all you needed. Hearing him say the words to you only solidified that y/n l/n and Steve Rogers didn't stand another damn chance. You sniffled as you stood up, trying to conceal any glimpse of sadness he could possibly see in you. You make your way to the door and go to turn the handle only for him to start speaking and stop you in your tracks.

"Y/n. I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't expecting any of this. I don't know what I want yet."

"Of course you do, Steven, you just said it," you say with a fake smile as you turn to look at him, "I'm not upset with you for not wanting this, but I'm disappointed that you're not the man I thought you were. If you change your mind, you know where to find me, but decide soon because I won't let you be in and out of our lives."

With that, you leave and quietly shut the door behind you.

The drive back to the tower is entirely too slow and painful. You slipped your shoes off once back inside the comfort of your room and made your way to the bathroom to run a bath. After sinking in the warm bubbles and water, you unlocked your phone to unblock Steve's number. You awaited a text as you bathed- a text that never came, that is. You felt a little silly for ever thinking he'd want this with you but brush the feeling off quickly as it makes you feel physically sick.

You dry off, slip into your favorite night clothes, then slip under your covers. After trying to fall asleep for four hours and either waking up after a few minutes or not being able to fall asleep at all, you text Bucky to see if he's awake. It's about 3 a.m., but he responds after only five minutes to tell you he's coming to your room. The fact that he knew you wanted him to come over without saying it had a smile spreading across your lips.

When he arrived, you hugged him tightly and let out a shaky breath you'd been holding. He pulled away from the hug and looked at you with a concerned expression painted on his face.

"What's wrong?" he asks, hands resting on your arms.

"I'm pregnant, Buck."

You laugh a little to hide the way your voice cracked but Bucky sees right through it. He frowns at the sight of you, taking in the dark bags under your eyes and your skin that was paler than your usual tone.

"Let's go sit down, yeah?" he smiles warmly.

The two of you sit on your bed in silence as you lay your head on his shoulder. You make small talk after a few minutes, Bucky mainly asking questions about what you plan to do and how you feel.

"I'm guessing you told Steve?" he inquires.

He feels you nod slowly against his shoulder and he takes it as a sign to continue.

"And how did he take it?"

You shrug before speaking, "It seemed like he wanted to be a part of it all at first...then he said he didn't want this, but then he said he wasn't sure."

"Huh," he sighs out of confusion, "You know I'm here for you though, right? Both of you are my best friends, no matter how stupid he's being."

"I know you are," you reply.

"I know it's early and all, but have you thought about if you want a girl or boy?" he asks cautiously, worried the topic might upset you, "If you keep it, that is," he quickly adds.

"Buck, can I be honest with you?"

"Of course."

"I went to Steve's to get his input, but I think I decided to keep it as soon as I found out about it. I hate Steve so much right now, but this baby is a piece of both of us. I can't bring myself to get rid of something so innocent just for being a part of him," you explain, "I know it's not that simple for other people, but I did want kids with him eventually. I'm not unhappy with the pregnancy, I'm unhappy with the circumstances. Boy or girl, I'll be overjoyed either way."

He smiles to himself briefly, "You've got the biggest heart, you know that? You'll be a wonderful mother, y/n, and I mean that."

As hard as he tries to come up with an explanation for his friend's odd behavior, he can't. He'd promised you that he wouldn't go digging for answers when you broke up, you'd told him you didn't care to know and that it wasn't his problem. You're his friend, so he respected that. But now? Now it wasn't just you that Steve was abandoning, which meant that now he had to have answers.

Your breathing slows after a little bit, a sign that he recognizes as you getting sleepy. Slowly, he lays down, cradling your body so that you lay down with him. He lets you rest your head on him as he strokes your hair back soothingly. He waits until he hears your soft snores to gently ease your head onto your pillow before getting off the bed. He'd decided that he was going to get answers, even if it was three-forty in the morning.

Back at the apartment, Steve had only moved once to turn off the lights, pour a glass of alcohol, and sit in your recliner. He would never say it now but he hated being alone in the apartment without you. This wasn't his home, and it never was, not without you there with him. The space that used to be filled with your laughter and your love now felt void of anything other than cold. He sat in the dark, alone with his thoughts, as he did almost every night since you broke up.

His phone buzzed, startling him out of his thoughts. The timing of him getting a message was unusual given the late hour. He picked up the phone and saw it was from Bucky, he smiled softly in hopes that his friend would offer some sort of help. He was sadly mistaken.

Bucky: We need to talk.

Steve frowned at the cryptic message as he typed a response.

Steve: About what?

Bucky's reply was swift.

Bucky: You know exactly what.

A knock sounded at the door no more than ten minutes later. He sighed, mentally preparing himself for whatever talking to he was about to get.

"It's open," he called out.

The door opened to reveal Bucky. As he walked in, the light from outside lit up his face and allowed Steve to see his expression of concern and irritation. He closed the door behind him and then turned to face Steve.

"I'm starting to worry you're turning into a vampire or something, punk. Why are you sitting with all the lights off again? Haven't we had this talk before?" he questions, flipping the overhead light on, "Have you been crying again?"

Steve groans and rubs his wet eyes with his free hand, "No," he lies.

His eyes narrow in Bucky's direction as he walks towards where he's sitting. Steve then brings the drink up to his lips to take a sip only to have it yanked away.

"Buck-"

"Now this is new, is this alcohol?" Bucky asks, bringing the glass up to his nose only to recoil at the scent, "Steve, oh my God, What is in this?"

"Whiskey, tequila, a little bit of everything. Well, everything she left here."

Bucky looks away, desperately trying to contain a laugh, "You can't even get drunk. What are you doing? What's the end goal here?"

"The taste helps me forget how big of an idiot I am," Steve confesses as he snatches his drink back, "It's like a punishment."

"Glad you know you're an idiot, it makes my job here easier."

"Did she send you over here," Steve asks, looking up at Bucky through his eyelashes.

"No, she didn't. But she told me what happened and I came here on my own," Bucky responds, "You know as well as I do that she can fight her own battles."

"Then why are you here?"

"To check on you. And like you said, you're an idiot. I'm here to figure out why you're being such an idiot, though. Whatever Steve you've been for the last four months isn't the Steve I know."

When he doesn't answer, Bucky continues talking, "I've let this go on for far too long. I should've asked when I noticed you were acting weird, but I chalked it up to how rough that last Hydra mission was. But this whole baby thing is the last straw, Steve. I've had to put up with your dumb decisions recently, I deserve an explanation. The woman carrying your child does more so, but we'll get to that."

Steve let out a heavy sigh and his shoulders slumped as he realized there was no escaping the conversation. Bucky had always been a straightforward friend. For as long as they knew each other, he was never one to beat around the bush, and he wasn't about to start letting Steve get away with stuff now.

"I don't even know where to start," Steve admits, his voice laced with frustration.

He takes another sip of his drink, hoping it might give him the kick he needs to explain himself. His face turns up at the taste and Bucky tries yet again to conceal a laugh.

"Okay, enough of that," he says, taking the drink back out of Steve's hands.

Bucky crosses his arms and sits on the end of the couch closest to Steve, giving him a stern look, "How about you try starting with why you decided to walk away from her? She's the best thing that ever happened to you, Steve, we both know that."

Steve winces at his words. He knew Bucky was right, as he usually was, but facing the same truth every day didn't make it hurt any less. It actually hurt worse since he knew that this entire situation was his fault.

"So?" Bucky says, urging Steve to speak.

Bucky instinctively brings the glass up to his lips and takes a sip. His expression turns from understanding to disgust as he spits the drink back into the cup.

Steve chuckles under his breath, "Habit?"

"Think it was the feeling of the cup in my hand, not sure why I did that. Guess old habits do die hard," Bucky explains, "Anyways, get to the explaining."

"I... I don't know, Buck. I messed up, bad."

"We already know that, care to elaborate?" Bucky prodded.

"It wasn't up to me, Buck," Steve sighs, speaking again when he sees Bucky's confused look, "Remember that Hydra mission you were just talking about?"

taglist! @vicmc624 @tooruen @athenabarnes @blackhawkfanatic

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little-boyyyy-blog · 15 days

Text

back to america

jessie fleming x reader

when jessie makes the to move to portland, you were the only thing on her mind. yet still somehow. you make the biggest move of your relationship.

“i missed you.” the brunette girl you had missed so passionately whispered against the soft skin of your neck. your arms going and wrapping over jessie’s shoulders as you kept the door open with your foot.

“i missed you more jay”

there was a few bags behind the girl; knowing the the rest were getting flown out later in time. jessie and you had spent months (years) going back and forth over the idea of her making the move back to the states from west london. she had always fallen homesick, missing being so close to her parents and longtime girlfriend.

even while at ucla; jessie causally saw her family and friends. either making the trip up to london, ontario on school breaks or her family flying down on their long weekends to spend time with their girl. jessie and her family were thick as thieves. and she’d been telling anyone who asked that, that very reason was why she wanted to come back.

but she had also missed you. and she had just started subconsciously thinking of you as family.

but long distance had been extremely hard on you as a pair. and after you secured a job that was somewhere you felt like settling down at; at least for a while. you started not being able to take off nearly as much time as you could while finishing your masters and working a small restaurant job.

so once she did decide on coming back to the states, she wasted no time in coming home. and by that she meant you. and your high rise apartment that she loved dearly.

“there’s never been a longer plane ride a day in my life.”

jessie and you had met in a shared 3rd year kinetics and transport in material engineering class. it was one of the hardest classes you both had to face in the first 3 years at ucla. that was until you both had ended up in a group of 6 for your midterm final.

you had obviously known who jessie was, everyone did at ucla. but you also knew you had no chance at the gorgeous girl; subsequently leading to never letting you set yourself up for failure by even starting a conversation.

keeping your head down and your eyes away from the soccer stars vicinity allowed you to miraculously never end up in a position to gain a further crush on her. for three years at that! but once you were placed in the same group as her for your midterm, there was absolutely no point in trying.

“do you think anyone else is actually going to show up for this?” presley asked, is hands on his hips as he looked out the door. “it’s only 5:51, just sit down and relax”

he turned and squinted his eyes, causing you to crack a laugh from your friend. “i hate you.”

“no you don’t.”

“i showed up?” presley’s friend piped off; looking up from his computer to now watch the door. “we knew you would canonn, thank you for being early.” presley rolled his eyes before looking back out into the hall. “oo! jenny is here!”

“jenny?” you questioned.

“short blonde who sits front row? always has a question no matter the situation or subject?”

“ah jenny..” you mumbled. well let’s hope she’s useful. or at least more useful than you and some good ole google.

as the time ticked on further until 6’o clock; you found yourself letting out a small sigh of relief. as frustrating as it may be to have to carry the weight of one person in a group you couldn’t help but find a positive of jessie not being there. you didn’t have to face her. that gorgeous gorgeous face.

it was a matter of time. you knew you’d have to come face to face with the brunette who didn’t even know you existed; but you had felt a small amount of relief at it not being today.

but even without the girl your group started hitting the ground running; you working on your computer as the others gave you the information to type down onto the shared slides. the group had been mostly focused on creating an easily accessible but slightly complex introduction to a prototype for the project.

“-i am so sorry! is this group 3 for dr. kimmich’s class?” your eyes shot up from your computer, only to lock with your forever-far away crush. you knew your lips parted, no words coming out but parted as you stared at the beautiful girl. “yes it is! glad you could join us!” presley shot up from his seat, is coffee in hand as he quickly made his way to the brunette.

the last open seat was placed directly infront of you, so as presley ushered the girl in. you were shitting bricks.

the group picked up right where it left off. and jessie ended up being more useful than anyone else. she was insanely good at any engineering class it seemed; but you had never seen it first hand until now.

you could have caught many flies with the way your lips stayed parted and your eyes fixated on the soccer player. her hair was in a messy bun, wearing a ucla soccer shirt an a pair of grey sweats. she looked other-worldly.

you loved how bright her smile was and how her eyebrows furrowed inwards when she didn’t completely understand something. presley has landed multiple kicks to your shin, giving you the crazy eyes and mumbling under his breath everytime for you to stop staring.

you never really could.

“come on, let’s get your stuff inside” you pulled away from her embrace, stealing a peck from her lips and pushing her off to the side. stuggling but managing to pick up the few (four) duffle bags off of the ground and bringing them into your apartment.

“you say let’s and then bring them all in yourself”

“don’t want my pretty girl to hurt herself”

pushing through your bedroom door and placing them on the foot of your bed. jessie found her way behind you; wrapping her arms around your torso as you quickly unzipped one of her bags.

you were prepared to unpack her things, wanting to set up home base for her to make her feel more peaceful with the big change. and you shamelessly knew she’d find a way to wrap her arms around you as you did such. you both had spent 100’s of trips doing the small motions; and this one felt better as you knew it would one of the last.

pulling out all of her shirts and shorts as she laid kisses on the inside of your neck; whispering her ‘i miss you’s’ on the soft skin. having to resist your girlfriend as she continued even through your groans and teasing comments about her being a horny boy.

actually; that probably was one of the traits of jessie’s. she could easily be found herself getting lost in your neck any second possible; even in very public settings or terrible timed events.

“mm jess, get some hangers please” you pushed her away from you, you hand pressing against her hip and tapping for her to move. “fine.” she placed another soft kiss to your neck before scurrying off.

a small smile coming across your face as you continued pulling out her clothes. laying out the shirts flat on the bed and unfolding her pants/sweats only to refold them in a way that would make hanging them up on the hangers easier.

“where did your clothes go?” jessie questioned as she came out of the closet, arms filled with hangers.

of course she noticed right away.

“they are packed up” you rolled your eyes at your girlfriend, she had never been known for her abilities to pick up on subtle details. but she had to pick on this one?

“going on a trip? for what? a month?” she joked; sighing deeply as you grabbed the hangers out of her hands and started hanging up her shirts. a small smile coming across your lips as you caught the end of a portland jersey inbetween your fingertips. “more so months.”

portland has always loved their canadians; and jessie was absolutely no exception to that. so when she got the offer, there was absolutely no way she was going to decline it.

and trust, you understood why portland loved canadians so much. just look at yours?!

“baby what’s going on? there’s a lot of things missing?”

you swallowed your heartbeat down, feeling the anxiety of the impending implications coming faster than expected. you had secretly prayed that she wouldn’t have started questioning things until maybe a few days in.

you had cleared out space in your shower caddie for her own products, a little space on your bedside table for her things to take up. you had even set up an extra key ring by your door for her to be able to hang her keys up on; a brand new key to your apartment occupied it currently. one that she didn’t even know existed.

you watched as her head started looking through the room, her eyes going from the closet to you, to the bathroom door, the nightstand, under the bed, and moving to go to your armoire.

you placed your hand on the soft skin of her forearm, drawing her attention back to you; stopping her from moving around the room to see what else is missing.

taking a deep breath before you even looked at the brunette-girl eyes. “i love you jess, i have since our first group project junior year..” her right arm going around your waist, holding you as your hand gripped on the other girls forearm.

“..you’ve chased ever dream you’ve ever wanted and truthfully got them. making them more and your own in the process. you’ve shown me incredible elegance and composure in some of the hardest times of our relationship and i truly don’t see myself living this life with anyone else..” jessie’s grip found its way to somehow thighten; holding you almost flush against her as you stared up into her eyes.

your eyes watered at the look of complete awe she happened to hold in her beautiful face, incomparable to any 7 wonder or model you’ve ever seen. “..you’ve made the biggest move; the riskiest move of your career to come and make us work. and i would hate myself for not at least asking. so. will you move in with me?”

her smile reflected the same one you given her the day you said yes to her when she asked you on your first date. her hands now both coming up to hold your face as she looked at you; as if she was completely infatuated with you now.

“no way did you just ask me that?”

growing slightly shy at her gaze , you feel your own cheeks heat up in the hold of the girls rough palms. one of your own hands coming up and lightly clasping around her left wrist. a small nod coming from you as you felt embarrassment start to creep up. the lack of anwser made your brain run wild. “if you feel like it’s too soon or too much change at one time i completely un-“

“too soon? i tried countless times to have you move to england with me. i had hoped to quietly make myself at home but this is even better.” she shook her head at your self doubt. almost in amazement that you could even imagine something of the sort. “yes y/n. id love to move in with you.”

“really?”

“i can’t believe you’re re asking me that. im absolutely fucking sure.” her lips coming down to silence any response you could think of. and let’s just say those clothes did get folded and hung up. just happened to be the next morning.

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delirious-donna · 4 months

Text

For You [Hanma Shuji]

an: Pure self-indulgence as I've been sick the past few days and I'll use any excuse to continue my soft Shuji agenda...

pairing: Hanma Shuji x female reader

warnings: fluff, self-ship coded, reader has longish hair with a similar texture to Shuji’s, fluff, bit of a sick fic I guess, domesticity, soft shuji, suggestive if you squint, did I mention the fluff?

He didn’t know what to do. That much was evident from the white noise tumbling inside his head and the empty stare that roamed your apartment. Everything was as it should be, and at the same time, nothing was right.

Shuji hadn’t heard a peep from you in almost two days, and that was unheard of before now. He appreciated that you were not overtly clingy. You didn’t need to know his exact whereabouts at any given moment of the day, but you checked in now and then, and for the first time in his life, he looked forward to those moments. So when you went radio silent except for one cursory message in reply to his attempt at humour that you were ghosting him, worry settled heavily.

The smell was apparent the second he let himself in with the spare key you had gifted him months ago. Until now, he hadn’t had reason to use it, but there was no way he would allow another day to pass without knowing what was going on. Sickness–sweet and sour–lingered in the nose, an unmistakable smell.

What he found huddled in a nest of twisted blankets tugged at a heart he had not long grown to realise existed. A mass of tangled hair obscured most of your sleeping face, though he doesn’t miss the scrunched expression etched across your features. Your skin that peeks from beneath your adorable kitty pyjamas was covered in a sheen of sweat, and he could feel the heat radiating from your body when he closed the distance in two quick strides.

You’re sick.

The rasp of your breathing indicated something was sitting on your chest, likely a bad cold or some infection, and he doesn’t know what to do with this newfound information. Turning, he raised his glasses atop his head to pass a weary palm down his face.

Cuts, scrapes and bruises are things he can deal with. He is well accustomed to peroxide on rags to clean wounds and disinfect any dirt that might linger inside split knuckles. A raw steak slapped over a swollen eye might be considered a bit of a health hazard these days, but he still swore that nothing reduced the swelling faster. Hell, Shuji was even a dab hand with a needle and thread. He had lost count with how many of his exclusively short list of friends he had patched up to avoid the inevitable hospital questions over the years. He had even sewn himself up from time to time.

Hell, he needed to act. Standing here doing nothing was beginning to sizzle his blood.

You woke from being jostled, the haze of your fever dream preventing the usual fight or flight instinct from kicking in. Craning your neck, you blinked and scrubbed at your eyes. There was no way you were looking up at your boyfriend. No way that he had you cradled in his arms in the most delicate hold you had ever experienced.

“Shuji?”

“Yeah, princess, it’s me. Need you to sit here f’me, alright?” He rasped, voice affected by some emotion you couldn’t quite place.

Cool porcelain met your backside, your body guided upright until you could manage your equilibrium. Hanma Shuji was here, in your apartment, in your bathroom. Rummaging through your medicine cabinet and looking for god knows what.

A bath. He could at least run you a warm bath and rid you of the smell of sweat and sickness from your pretty skin. Methodically, he worked to fill the tub and added a few splashes of some scented shit that smelled familiar from your cabinet. Shuji dutifully peeled the pyjamas and underwear from your body and threw them in the hamper with a mind to run a load for you if he remembered.

Maybe you were dreaming. Maybe your twisted fever-induced dreams had shifted away from the nauseatingly vibrant images you had experienced only a few hours ago to this muted peaceful scene. It was a nice thought, but no, this was reality and not one you ever thought you’d experience.

A hand from behind your head came into view, a hand you knew immediately, not just by the stark black kanji inked against golden skin but the length of his slender fingers and the slight yellowish stain from the cigarettes he smoked. He handed you a soapy washcloth, which you gratefully accepted, wiping it across your body and sluffing off the grim that had caked you over the course of the last few days.

It was heaven, pure and simple, and when you thought it couldn’t get any better, Shuji surprised you once more. He gently tilted your head back, your eyes met his, and you smiled in adoration at the concentration evident on his face seconds before he began wetting your hair with the jug you kept on the edge of the bath.

“You don’t have to… Shu, I can take care of my hair once I’m better.”

Shuji clicked his tongue against his teeth in admonishment, but he held back from scolding you further for not trusting him with this small task. He washed his own damn hair, so washing yours wasn’t going to be some impossible task. His fingers worked in the suds of your shampoo into a thick lather, digging deep against your scalp and massaging firmly enough to elicit moans of bliss.

Normally such noises would make him hard, but right now it only raised a genuine smile. This was possibly one of the most intimate things he had ever done for you. Never mind all those times he had rearranged your insides or made slow, passionate love to you. No, this was on a whole other level, and he liked it–more than he ever believed he would.

You must have dozed off whilst he shampooed and conditioned your hair because the next thing you were aware of was being lifted from the bath and wrapped in a thick fluffy towel that draped past your toes. Shuji returned you to your bedroom but paused in where to deposit you, his nose wrinkled in distaste at the mess of sheets that most definitely needed to be washed and changed. Eventually, he planted your feet on the plush rug by the bottom of your bed, one which his knees were intimately familiar with and helped towel dry your body from head to foot.

“Put these on, baby. Imma strip your bed, do you have another set?” He asked with a kiss to your temple, handing you a clean set of yellow pyjamas with little ducks covering them from your dresser drawer.

Nodding sleepily, you pointed to the wicker storage box in the far corner before stepping into the pj pants and clumsily covering yourself with the top that bagged just enough that you could truthfully forgo the pants if you wanted.

You watched in amusement as the man known far and wide as both a talented photographer and sometimes enforcer for certain well-connected friends changed your bedding. His tall frame made it easy for him to manipulate the fitted sheet into place and wrangle a clean duvet cover on your kingsize duvet. This shitty task would have taken you nearly half an hour by yourself, but he managed in only ten.

“Need to dry my hair,” you yawned, leaning your face on his bicep and gratefully folding into his body when his arm snaked around your waist. He looked lost again, and you took pity on him. This kind of care was not his forte, but he didn’t know that all of this meant more to you than you could verbalise in your current state.

“I’ll wait for you in the living room. Take your time, alright?” With a final kiss to your forehead, he rounded the door of your bedroom and was gone from sight.

Shuji tried to sit still whilst the sound of your hairdryer filled his ears, but he was never one to sit idly by. He thought back on the times he had been sick as a kid with no one to really care for him and the things he would have wished for. In truth, a hot bath, clean clothes and a full stomach were all he ever wanted.

He was no cook, but he got by. A can of chicken soup caught his attention as he scanned your cupboards and set about warming it up on the stovetop. Your bread was still fresh, and he found butter in the fridge. He could do this. He could be the caring boyfriend when he wanted and though he had never felt inclined before, you were different.

You didn’t blow up his phone looking for sympathy or attention–no–you had tried to tough it out much like he had growing up, and it further sparked the flicker of kindred spirit that he felt about you. He wanted to protect you. There was no sense of obligation, and that made the difference. You were the first person he had loved outside of himself, and you reciprocated unconditionally.

You took the man he was, the boy he had been and loved every part of him, flaws and all. Shuji could do the same for you, and he vowed that the next time one of you fell sick, you’d be living together and there would be no need to guess that something was wrong.

So engrossed in sentimental thoughts that were still rather foreign to him, Shuji didn’t notice the hairdryer cut off nor the sound of your bare feet padding in search of him. It wasn’t until two small arms wound around his waist that he noticed or acknowledged your presence at all.

“What did I do to deserve you, Hanma Shuji?” You sobbed wetly into the shirt covering his back. Your emotions were overwhelming you, head still stuffy from whatever sickness had beat your ass the past few days, coupled with the domesticity of watching him cook for you. Tears streaked towards your cheeks, and you smushed your face deeper into him in an attempt to halt the flow.

He chuckled whilst continuing to stir the soup. “I know a lot of people that would say you must have been real bad in a past life to have ended up with me as a boyfriend.”

You sniffled and mustered every ounce of strength–barely anything–to smack him for that comment. “Shut up, you ass. Don’t spoil it.”

Shuji turned slowly. The amused expression softening in the face of your soppy, pathetic face that he couldn’t possibly adore any more, and he raised a hand to thumb away your tears. Enfolding you fully into his arms, he cooed softly against your freshly dried hair and smiled at the scent that was uniquely you had returned to your skin.

“I want you to know that I would do anything for you. Not only would I rip apart this entire fucking world if someone dared hurt you.” He enthused before his tone softened with a quiet exhale as if he were about to whisper some unspoken secret. “But I’ll also bathe you when you need the help, and I’ll feed you when you’re hungry. For you, there is nothing too much.”

#delirious writes #hanma x reader #shuji x reader #hanma shuji x reader #hanma fluff #shuji fluff #soft shuji

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cucumberteapot · 11 months

Text

I feel like people aren't as open to discussing E-42 Prowle because there is so much about the character we don't know or the films haven't explicitly told us yet. However, I'd like to think writers have presented us with enough information that we can make a strong assessment as to not to what kind of role they'll serve (I think it's fair to say Miles G is going to be an antagonist later-turned hero or anti-hero in BSTV), but what kind of character this is and how they challenge Miles as the main character.

I'd like to discuss one crucial aspect of piece of body language and physical characterisation. This right here:

This is our first proper shot of E-42 Prowler and it closely parallels Aaron Davis in then first movie when he's watching Miles run away.

Now I want to pay mind that in deliberately holding off the plot twist of Aaron being the Prowler, the audience is given no key identifiers as to the Prowler's true identity. He doesn't even have any lines of dialogue until Miles is hiding in his apartment and we after we get the reveal. In every sense of the term, Prowler is a gun for hire. Except he doesn't use guns. The point is he is a hitman. He consistently does what he's told by Kingpin - "You can count on me, sir. I don't ever quit." But then when he's confront with the reveal of the kid he's been hunting is his own nephew and he must choose between his identities as Aaron and as Prowler, that loyalty is severed and it costs him his life.

Which leads us to this specific visual of E-42 Prowler dangling from the rafter before dropping down to face Miles. The camera doesn't cut away from how he drops. Instead we're put entirely in Miles' perspective as to this guy's every move. Between us and Miles, the crew don't want us to miss anything. So what are we seeing here?

Well firstly I think it's clear this is something the Prowler we know wouldn't do because this is a merge of personas of Miles as the Prowler and as a 15-year old. This reads to us as something a lanky kid would do on a jungle-gym, and the fact E-42 Prowler doesn't take his eyes off Miles not only demonstrates curiosity but almost an invitation to play. Not literally, but I believe this Prowler is someone who likes to toy with their victims (which he see a bit of towards the end). And in this case, Prowler is definitely testing Miles from the moment he starts talking about ideas counteractive to his reality - That Aaron Davis could be a "good guy" and that the Prowler identity is something detrimental to the E-42 dimensions' existence. Granted, Miles is speaking from the experience of someone who's Prowler didn't provide income for their family and represent a symbol of strength like the Spiderman identity, so it's a no brainer E-42 Prowler views Miles as antithetical to his state of being. Another thing is that this is how Miles hangs from his webs throughout the movie (under the clocktower, before going through the portal to mumbattan, etc.), so it's a nice consistent characterisation between the two.

But that only leads us into what separates them. After keeping their focus directly on the other, they have their first exchange:

Prowler: Your dad is still alive? Miles: What? Prowler: Your father... You said he's still alive. Miles: Yeah. Prowler: Oh.

Okay, let's dissect this. Specifically Miles' confusion at to why Prowler's asking this because the audience is in the same boat but for very different reasons.

Now I don't want to make assumptions but even before Prowler unmasks, Miles already knows it's his counterpart and his question isn't so much as not knowing but a request for confirmation. However the reason why Miles is confused here is because he expected that same curiousity about identity from his counterpart - not about relatives. Prowler doesn't ask who Miles is even though he doesn't really know, and when he gets his answer that, yes, Jefferson is alive in the other universe, his reaction is played off as dismissive, separating his identity and priorities from Miles. Whatever it is, considering it's the first thing he's asks, this is a vital piece of information for Prowler but his reaction removes any possibility he can be negotiated with... which Miles continuously fails at.

Miles: Who are you? Prowler: My name is Miles Morales. But you... You can call me the Prowler. Miles: If I don't get home, our dad is going to die. Prowler: Your dad. Miles: Please... You have to let me go. Prowler: And why would I do that?

That then leads us on to Miles' question because he's not only asking for his kidnapper's name, he's asking for who this person is. And in turn who we see isn't particularly angry or vindictive - we'll get to that. Instead, Prowler's expression is complete desolation.

It's only when Miles further insinuates they are the same by referring to Jefferson as "our dad", does he shoot back with "your dad". It's quick because this Prowler is still separating himself from this version of himself and the idea he could or would've been or had anything like his life. Finally Miles accepts that they are separate and ask Prowler to let him go, but Prowler has another rhetorical question which implies although he considers this Miles separate to himself, he still has use for him somehow. Which honestly if you had this strength-is-all mindset, it might feel rewarding to have captured this part of yourself that you considered weak - which for all Prowler knows, Miles is just this inferior version of himself who got decked in one hit.

And then lastly we have these two shots here where Prowler raises his "claw" beside Miles' head and sizes him up.

If Aaron can scare Miles by punching the sand out of a boxing bag while Prowler only has to put his fist on it, you tell me who's more terrifying?

But truthfully this last non-conversational exchange before Miles stares Prowler back down is evident that not only is Prowler going to beat the shit out of Miles, but that Miles' "flippy, little sassy jokes" as Spot puts it, is not going to help him here. Because if he wants to survive, he's going to have to match Prowler's energy. This film has a bittersweet ending not because Miles is captured but because Miles has internalised what he's been fighting against the whole movie - The emotional desolation of being Spider-man that lets them deal with or appear indifferent to the harm or death of people around them and it's exemplified when he applies Peter's first lesson of being Spider-man:

"Don't watch the mouth. Watch the hands."

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bokutosmochi · 7 months

Text

kinktober day one: size kink!

BAGGY PANTS ♡ GETO SUGURU

fem!reader x metalhead!geto suguru

ingredients: geto suguru's baggy pants are more than just a fashion statement

what's it: smut

allergen warning/s: size kink, hair pulling, pleasure sub!reader, oral [m!receiving]

sugar level: 1.5k

regulars: @ventdavi154 @deobiforever @sugusshi @angelshub

parlor's note: you don't have to be a metalhead to be able to self insert, but it is mentioned a couple of times that you two attend metal concerts together. i love this fic, it's really just self indulgence and i hope you guys enjoy it too!

bon appetit!

you've been friends with him since you were a student in high school, being inseparable and attached at the hip. whenever there's a metal band that's going on a world tour and is going to tokyo, he always comes knocking at your dorm's door. quite a number of nights and midnights of your teenage years were spent with him in the moshpit, and patching each other up because someone got too rowdy in said pit.

unfortunately, once you two graduated, due to a shortage of teachers in jujutsu tech tokyo's sister school located in kyoto, you had to transfer, making you and suguru drift apart for some time. of course, you always kept in touch with the man, a month wouldn't pass without either of you shooting the other a message, you'd always greet each other happy birthdays, send each other memes, and on rare occasions, you'd attend concerts together like you used to, but suffice to say, your relationship now is lackluster compared to your relationship then.

a few months ago though, you received an email from principal yaga about coming back to tokyo and being the third year's teacher. he informed you that he has already asked principal gakuganji about the matter and there was another sorcerer who could handle your students in kyoto, making the decision a no brainer.

the offer made your heart skip a beat in all right ways and in just a few more messages, you were unofficially a teacher at tokyo metropolitan jujutsu technical high school and the rest is history.

ever since reconnecting with geto, you've gotten closer and eventually started dating your best friend since high school. there were a few changes about him, but none that you minded. he was taller, broader, hair a few inches longer, and now, he wears it in a half-up hairstyle unlike back then when it was always in a bun. he's more mature now too, wiser, smarter, better at strategizing. finally, back when you were students, a hundred percent of the time, he'd opt to still hear his school uniform when going on outings, except for those concert nights where he'd wear this uniform pants and then the band's merch tee. nowadays, when you'd go on dates, he wears baggy pants, yet the chosen top is still the same -- at this point, you're sure that ninety percent of suguru's closet is just black band shirts, while the remaining one percent is composed of his uniforms.

it fit his whole aesthetic; his chosen outfits. it's all very him, and at first, you thought that was the only reason why he wore the things that he wore.

when did you change your mind? right now, as he stood before you with his pants down for the first time.

it started with him recommending you a song, the summoning by sleep token and at first, you reacted to it the way you do with any good metal music, headbanging and wondering how the band composed such wonderful sounds, but it was five minutes into the song where the mood in the room changed.

suguru's featherlight touches accompanied the sensual instrumentals and the yearning in the vocalists words and voice translated itself into the way you ran your fingers through your boyfriend's hair.

oh, and my love

did i mistake you for a sign from god?

or are you really here to cut me off?

or maybe just to turn me on

'cause these days

i would be lying if i told you that

i didn't wish that i could be your man

or maybe make a good girl bad

i've got a river running right into you

i've got a blood trail, red in the blue

something you say or something you do

the taste of the divine

you've got my body, flesh and bone

the sky above, the earth below

nothing to say and no where to go

a taste of the divine

one thing led to another, and one by one, you were both stripped of your clothing until you were nude, having nothing but the other's body heat to keep each other warm.

geto found his ego skyrocketing at the sight before him, and you found yourself salivating at the sight before you.

suguru's cock was hard, the tip - flushed red from the blood rushing downward - moist with specks of precum. it seemed to be so heavy, the muscle curved down, presumably from the weight. bulging veins decorated the shaft and it was all so pretty, as weird as it sounds to describe your boyfriend's dick with the word. perhaps using big would be more appropriate. after all, the fact that you were intimidated by the size shows in your eyes, looking like a deer in headlights.

"it's okay, baby," geto cooed, breaking you out of your how-am-i-gonna-fit-that-in-my-mouth induced trance. one of his big hands were on the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek in comfort. "you can take it inch by inch, kay? you'll be good for me, won't you?"

under his spell, you couldn't do anything but nod. the only thought bouncing around in your head was the want, no, the need to please the adonis of a man in front of you, and as a thank you, he graces you with a soft smile before pulling your pouty lower lip down with the pad of his thumb. your eyes wander over to his other hand, jerking his cock off and pressing the head to your kiss swollen lips.

"fuuuck, there you go, pretty." he moans out as you suck it into your mouth. his precum hits your taste buds and the salt and tang of it almost makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

encouraged by his hand petting your hair, you fit more of him in your mouth.

you try to make it easier for yourself by relaxing your jaw as he pushes his hips forward slowly, but the ache slowly creeps in. the sides of your mouth starts stinging as he stretches it out and centimeters after, tears are pooling in your eyes. you don't make a sound, though, or make any indication that you wanted to stop.

you wanted to take all of suguru in your mouth, you just wished it wasn't so damn hard.

"hey, hey, baby, don't cry." suguru looked down to sneak a peek at your beautiful flustered face, only to be heartbroken when he met your teary eyed face. he was quick to wipe the falling tears as he feels his heartbeat quicken. still, he can't help but chuckle. "it's not even half way in yet." his hand unexpectedly clutched at your hair when you gasped at his statement. it took everything in him to not immediately thrust his hips into your warm mouth after that.

a shiver went up your spine when he gave you a warning glance and you hoped you were able to communicate your nonverbal apology with your eyes as effectively as he could.

"look," he started to pull away. "w-we can do just the tip first, 'til you get used to it."

he stopped thrusting then, even though it took all of his power to do so. he wanted you to set your own pace, take as much as him as you could, until like said, you get used to it, and he knows you'll get used to it, after all, you're his good girl, always eager to please. if he's being selfish, he'd say it was one of his favorite things about you.

he absolutely adores that determined sparkle in your eyes as you bob your head up and down his shaft. spit's starting to leak from the corners of your mouth and drip down your chin to your tits, but you don't pay it any mind. you have a singleminded ferocity that aims to pleasure suguru, and nothing is going to stop you, not the way the back of your throat aches from being poked roughly each and every time you go back down, not the way your cheeks and your mouth starts aching, and not the way the corners of your lips feel like they're being torn apart. after all, if they do end up getting cut, you know suguru would drive you to the hospital with a fake reason.

no one but you had to know the real reason why geto suguru wears baggy pants.

i get: reblog

you get: a metal band shirt

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melanieph321 · 6 months

Note

Since you’re open to writing for szoboszlai could you maybe right an angsty one where you’re fwb and find out you’re pregnant and when you tell him he freaks out at first and leaves for some alone time to think but eventually comes around

Lovely request! 😊

Dominik Szoboszlai x Reader - Positive

Enjoy!

"Pregnant?" Dominik frowned. "How can you be pregnant?"

You rolled your yes. "I don't know Dom, maybe we had somthing called sex?"

Dominik did not find your sarcasm amusing. He was neither amused that you showed up at his doorstep just as he was about to leave for training.

"How could this be possible?" He sighed, his body slumping down against the doorframe. It was a bit rude of him not to invite you in to his apartment.

"We didn't use protection the last time we...you know," You said awkwardly. "And I missed my period a few days ago. I went to get tested, and the results came back positive."

Dominik was silent for a moment, processing the information. You were having a baby together? It seemed like a distant possibility, but there was no denying the truth. But as reality set in, Dominik's expression turned from shock to panic. Perhaps he wasn't ready to be a father! Like you he was only twenty-three years old, a flourishing career ahead of him. Would he let a sloppy one night stand ruin that? Most people would argue that he had alot more to lose than you, a social media manager for the ever so addictive Red Bull energy drink.

"Y/N." Dominik shut the door behind him, adjusting the gym bag that hung over his shoulder. "I need some time to think. This is all too much for me right now."

You felt a lump form in your throat as you watched Dominik struggling to process the news. You knew this was a lot to take in, but you had hoped that he would be more supportive considering that you were both in the same boat. And It wasn't like you were complete strangers. You and Dominik had history, stretching back to when you were both based in Germany, Dominik playing for RB Leipzig and you doing jobs for their social media.

"I'll call you later okay?" He looked scared and overwhelmed, a desire to jump ship and flee.

"Okay," you said softly, trying to keep your emotions in check. "Take all the time you need." You nodded. But even as you spoke those words, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. Had you made a mistake by telling Dominik? Should you have given him more space? Were you truly ready to be a single mother? So many questions raced through your mind, leaving you feeling lost and uncertain about the future.

"I can't believe him." Your friend Sasha said.

It's where you were staying for the six months that Red Bull wanted you to do jobs for them in England. This whole situation was really her fault. If Sasha hadn't suggested that the two of you attend a sponsors event that her company was hosting, you would have never run into Dominik again and the two of you would never have hooked up. And it wasn't once that the two of you had spent night and day together. In fact, your relationship had gotten way past late night bootycalls. Perhaps that's why you were so suprised how off put he had been at the thought of knocking you up. Despite the life growing inside of you, life had to go on. You still had a job to do.

"Y/N, there is a call for you."

After spending and antire week in bed Sahsa woke you up one morning with your cellphone in her hand.

"Is it Dominik?"

"No. I think it's your boss."

"Oh."

How foolish of you to think that Dominik would ever call. The only word you had heard from him since you told him of your unexpected pregnancy was a text, saying:

"Need more time. Talk to you later."

"What did he want?" Sasha said, seeing you finally getting up and out of bed.

"There is a job in London that they want me to do."

You tied your hair in a gentle ponytail, marching towards the bathroom.

"What's in London?" Sasha asked.

"I dunno, some charity event at a youth center that Red Bull is funding."

"Oh...can I come?"

"Do you like kids?"

She snorted. "No."

You smiled. "Then perhaps you should sit this one out."

As you arrived at the youth center, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. Red Bull frequently arranged a "Meet your Hero Day." Where the children of the youth center would be suprised by athletes artists and other inspirational personalities.

"Who is it, who's coming?" You asked one of the youth counselor, since you had no idea yourself.

"It will be the best Hero Day yet." The counselor said. He seemed equally as giddy and excited as the children. "Red Bull went all out this year. They got two Liverpool players coming."

"Which ones?" You asked, but in terror.

"Trent Alexander- Arnold and Dominik Szoboszlai."

"No." You groaned.

"Yes." The counselor grinned. He was obviously a big fan.

The children were already gathered in the hall, eagerly waiting for the arrival of their special guests. You did you job, setting up your camera and snapping away photos, capturing the energy and enthusiasm of the young ones. Soon Dominik and his teammate arrived, dressed in their signature football jerseys and a big smile on their faces. The children went wild, screaming and cheering as they walked into the room. You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as you watched Dominik interact with the kids - he was so natural and effortless around them, while you felt like a bit of an outsider. As the day progressed however, your presence became known.

"Y/N, w...what are you doing here?" Dominik asked as you had walked up to him with your camera.

"My job." You said.

"I didn't know..."

"It was last minute." You shrugged, snapping another picture of Dominik and a kid that refused to let go of his leg.

"I've been meaning to call." He said.

"Sure you have."

You moved on to snap more photos of Dominik's teammate, who was very photogenic.

"Can you maybe do something with the ball, a trick?" You directed.

"Like this?"

Trent gave the ball a tap, sending it up into the air and catching it with his knee then foot as it came back down. He did so with ease, the children gawking impressed.

"Thanks. I think I got it." You smiled.

Scrolling through your camera you noted how many good images there were. The children all looked so happy. You found yourself getting more and more comfortable with the children. You played games with them, listened to their stories, and even joined in on some of their dance moves. It was then that you realized something - you wanted a child of your own. You glanced over at Dominik, who was currently juggling a ball with one of the kids. He wasn't sure if he was ready for fatherhood, and maybe that was his right. But what you did with your body, that was your right. But as you continued to watch Dominik interact with the children, you saw the way he lit up their faces with his presence, and the way they looked up to him with such admiration. Deep down you knew that he would be an amazing father, which made the decision you wanted to make even more difficult.

"I'm giving the child up for adoption"

As the day came to a close, you took Dominik aside and told him what you wanted. His eyes widened in surprise. "What? Why would you do that?"

You tooka deep breath, calming yourself down. "I know I might be a bit old school but abortion isn't an option for me."

Dominik searched your face then nodded agreeingly. "Me neither."

"And I...what?" You frowned.

"I don't want you to have an abortion. " He said.

You were lost for words and for a split second you contemplated punching him in the face. "Dominik." You sighed. "You've given me the cold shoulders for days, making me question ever fucking choice I've ever made in this life. You made me feel so shitty about myself these past few days and now all of the sudden you want me to have your baby?"

"I know and I'm sorry." He said. "But Y/N you must understand, growing up my parents had nothing. They struggled to take care of me and at the same time did everything for me to succeed in life. I made a promise to them and myself that my children would never have to go through what me and my family did. That when I grew up I'd be able to give them everything that they need. I really want to be with you Y/N, but I promise you I'll struggle trying to be a dad now.

"Well I'll struggle even more being a single mother, don't you think?"

You could see it in his eyes, the genius angst. But you were in this together, why was it so difficult for him to understand that?

He shook his head. "I won't leave you. I'll be there for the both of you. Everything you need, money, a house..."

"Dominik." You sighed. "I don't want your money. I want you. I need you."

His expression withered, looking a bit defeated. "But I'm not good enough..."

"You're good enough to me." You placed a hand on your flat stomach. "You're good enough for us."

Somthing changed in his expression, a newfound light. "I am?"

You nodded, tears streaming down your face. "Yes, you're everything we need, just the way you are."

He stepped forward his arms collecting you in his embrace. You sighed in relief.

"I'm gonna be a dad." He pulled you back, now a smile on his face.

"Yes, yes you are and I'm gonna be a mom."

You gasped as Dominik bent down, kissing your lips. Forgetting your surroundings, a group of children spotted you and giggled unremosrfully. Dominik turned to look at them than back at you. He returned your smile, knowing that this is what you wanted. You were both positive.

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst #dominik szoboszlai #dominik szoboszlai x reader #trent alexander arnold #liverpool fc

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3vergr3en · 1 year

Text

Earn it.

_______________________

Author’s Note: I have the biggest, most fattest crush on Andrew Garfield. LIKE LOOK AT HIM. Also, if there are any mistakes, I did not proofread this 💀

Summary: Harry is hosting a birthday party for his best friend, Peter. Everything runs smoothly until Y/N’s best friend back in high school shows up and start flirting with the female. Oblivious Y/N doesn’t think much of it, being used to such playful manner. But Peter can see through the man’s facade, and he doesn’t like it one bit.

Paring: Fem!Reader x TASM!Peter Parker

Genre: Smut with little plot.

Word Count: 2.9K

Additional Info: Public sex, unprotected sex (PLEASE WRAP IT), nipple play, orgasm control, Peter has an obvious breeding kink, cream pie, choking, teasing, profanity, name-calling, humiliation, dirty talk, jealousy, established marriage.

_______________________

“Thank you for coming! Please grab some champagne and the appetizers are over towards the left.” You inform with a smile, using your hands to help direct the couple towards the section. You continued on saying the same phrase for the majority, apart from times where you had thrown in a couple different sentences such as, ‘You guys look amazing tonight”, ‘Oh my, I haven’t seen you in so long!’, and ‘Oh thank you, Peter helped me pick out this dress.’

But one familiar fellow caught your attention, “Oh my god, Mark is that you?” You question as your jaw hung low in shock, your eyes widening twice in size. “I’m surprised you still remember me.” The black-haired man laughs as he walks up to you, extending his arms out as an indication for a hug, “How could I not? We spent our entire high school years together!” You exclaim, embracing the latter into your arms. You received a nice, firm hug from the male in return. “God, I missed you.” Mark chuckles, using one of his hands to caress the bare skin on your back through your long, velvet black backless dress. “I missed you as well. I tried contacting you after graduation, but—“ You pulled away.

“I got a new phone, and all of my contacts didn’t save unfortunately.” Mark explains as he held your hands in his, his thumbs rubbing in circular motions on the back of your hands. “You look gorgeous, by the way. You’ve always have been, since high school to now.” Mark compliments, leaning down to kiss your hand. “Oh stop it, Mark. You’re too much. What happened to the Mark that would tease me 24/7?” You laugh, using one of your hands to playfully slap at the man’s shoulder.

You fail to notice a presence coming up behind you, growing concerned when there was an abrupt change in Marks demeanor. “Mark? What’s wrong?” You furrowed your eyebrows as your frowned before looking over your shoulder only to see Peter glaring at Mark with a tightly-clenched jaw. “Oh hon’! Have you seen what Harry has done for your birthday? The ballroom is absolutely stunning! Also, I want you to meet Mark, he was my best friend throughout high school,” You smiled, wrapping your arms around your husband’s arm, oblivious to the tension between the two men. “And Mark, meet my husband, Peter.” You inform, feeling one of Peter’s arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

“Husband?” Mark questions, raising one of his eyebrows. “Yeah. Dated for 4 years, been married for 5.” Peter stated, holding the hand out that the wedding band around your ring finger. “Oh, well, congratulations. I’m really happy for you, Y/N. But I’m just saying, I would’ve gotten a better ring for a beautiful woman like you.” Mark examines the ring, then to look at Peter with a smug look.

“Pfft, I forgot how much of a jokester you are, Mark.” You grin. “Hey, love? Can you go grab me some water?“ Peter asks with a nonchalant tone, not breaking eye contact with the man that stood in front of him. “Hm? Oh yeah, of course.” You nod, excusing yourself before walking off.

“The fuck is your problem?” Peter mutters, stepping closer towards Mark. “Nothing. It’s just sad to hear that my girl’s married off to some other dude. She looks ravishing tonight. The way the dress perfectly hugs her waist and extenuate her curves. How is she? Is she tight? Does her tits feel soft?” Mark whispers, the corner of his lips curling up into a smirk. Peter balled up his fists, clenching tightly to the point where his knuckles were turning white. As he opened up his mouth to say something, a pair of heels clicking against the smooth, tiled floor pulled him out of his frenzy.

“Unfortunately, they didn’t have water at the moment. They only had champagne, if that’s okay, love?” You explained, each hand holding two glasses. “I got one for you, Peter, and one for Mark.” You smiled. “That won’t be necessary, hon’.” Peter chuckles, grabbing both glasses. Before you could get a word in to ask why, your hands flew to cover your mouth as you watched Peter pour the beverages straight onto Marks head. Peter then handed you the empty glasses, pecking your cheek before turning around to face Mark once more, only to land a hard blow right across the males face. “Oh my god, Peter!” You gawked, immediately placing the glasses on a nearby table prior to rushing over to pull the brunette away from the half insensible Mark. “What is wrong with you?” You question with wide eyes, you look around to see people judgmentally staring at you three.

“You didn’t hear the vile things he said about you.” Peter mutters, shaking the hand that is now starting to bruise up. “Security!” You call out, “Please escort this gentleman out.” As two able-bodied men in black suits walked over, you pointed your hand at Mark who could barely stand. “Thank you.” You say to the two men, smiling.

You then felt a hand gripping at your wrist, dragging you through the crowd of people and up the carpet staircase. “Peter, where are you taking me?” You whispered loud enough for only Peter to hear. “Shut up.” You heard Peter respond back in a churlishly manner. You were bewildered. You don’t even know what Mark could’ve said to have Peter all riled up. You didn’t know where Peter was taking you in all honestly, there was a lot of turns and all you knew was that your feet were starting to hurt. It’s not easy to walk relatively fast in 5 inch heels.

“Peter, can you please slow down? My feet are starting to hurt—“ You gasped as you were suddenly grabbed at your shoulders, turned around to have your back pushed up against a large glass window. “Peter-!” You slightly yelp, looking around frantically. You saw you two were in a short hallway, the lights were fairly dimmed. You look over your shoulder to look through the glass windows and see you were approximately 15 stories high. “Peter, what are you doing?” You whisper, looking up at the male with furrowed eyebrows.

“Are you really that fucking stupid, huh?” Peter spats out. He grabs both of your wrists with one of his hands, pinning it above your head. The other hand now clenched around your jaw. “I don’t understand—“ You whimper when you felt Peter’s thigh force your legs apart. “He was flirting with you. Maybe you’re just too fucking dumb to even notice.” Peter says through gritted teeth. “Touching you.. putting his lips on you,” He scoffs, his hand that held your jaw now making its way down to your neck. “He had the fucking nerve to ask such vulgar questions about my lovely wife,” Peter laughs, tightening his grip around your throat, “But he wont ever know. He’ll live out the rest of his life wondering how tight you feel.. how soft these wonderful tits are.. and how much of a slut you sound like when you’re getting fucked.” Peter whispers into your ear, his thigh inching closer to your aching cunt.

You felt your body becoming hotter. But you also felt yourself becoming wetter with each passing second. “I’m sorry, Peter. Please..” You gasp out, bucking your hips up, trying to grind against Peter’s thigh for some sort of friction. “Look at my pathetic little whore, trying to rub herself on me. Tell me, love, what do you want?” Peter asks, loosening his grip around your throat. “Please fuck me..” You whine, shortly gasping afterwards when Peter finally pressed his thigh up against your clothed pussy. “More. Beg for it.” Peter orders. You began moving your hips forward and backwards, grinding against the soft material of the suit. Small whimpers slipping out of your mouth as you finally gained the friction you’ve been wanting. But it wasn’t enough, you needed more. You itched for more.

“Need more..” You breathed out, shaking your head when Peter had pulled his thigh away, “I want you inside of me.” You moaned when you felt Peter’s hand cupping your sex. “Do you deserve to be fucked, love?” Peter asks as he grabbed a handful of the lace material before ripping it off of you. You gasped at the sudden chill waving at your soaked cunt. He balled it up in his fists before stuffing it into his pant pocket. “Did you fucking hear me?” Peter asks, using the hand that bonded your wrists together, to now wrap around your throat once again, pinning you against the clear, cold glass surface. You nod frantically, mouth a gape, “Yes! Yes! I deserved to be fucked, oh please.. please fuck me.” You pleaded desperately when Peter’s fingers glided a long stripe in between your folds, stopping when the pad of his fingers landed perfectly on top of the clit. “Gotta quiet down, hon’.“ Peter huffs out, rubbing the small bundle of nerves in a slow, agonizing pace. “Please! Peter, faster!” You cried out, unable to take any more teasing. “What the fuck did I just say?” Peter muttered, momentarily pinching the airways on your throat. His fingers now starting to pick up the pace, rubbing in circular motions against the small knob. You moan, your hips bucking up into Peter’s hand. “Oh shit, yes!” You whimper, biting down on your bottom lip in attempt to try to lower your voice.

You whine in protest when Peter pulls his hands away from your body. He then pinched at the straps of your dress, pulling it down your arms, allowing the upper part of the dress to slip off your chest. Your breasts now full out on display, your nipples hard. “Another thing Mark will never know..” Peter breathes out as he turns you around. The front of your body now exposed to the outside world. His hands snaking around your torso till it reached your tits. He cupped them into his hands, kneading the soft, warm flesh. You hold onto Peter’s wrists, tilting your head backwards to rest onto the male’s broad shoulder. He slightly grazed his index fingers against the tip of your erected nipples, chuckling when you twitched against him. “I love how sensitive they are,” Peter whispers into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. He placed his finger pads onto your nipples, beginning to rub them circular motions. You moan out in delight, squeezing your thighs together. “P-peter,” You whimpered. “Yes, baby. Say my name.” He hums, pinching the buds in between his thumb and index fingers. Twisting it and tugging it very slightly. “Peter!” You moaned out, rubbing your ass against Peter lower half, giggling when you felt his bulge poking through his pants.

“I need to see your pretty face when I fuck my cock into you.” Peter groaned, “Would you like that, baby? Hm? You want my thick cock ramming inside of this pathetic little pussy of yours?” He smirks as he undoes his belt, pulling the pants down enough for him to pull out his erected cock, finding it entertaining watching you fold under him. “Yes! Oh god, yes please! Fuck me, Peter..” You trailed off at the end. Suddenly a wave of boldness came over you, “Unless if I just call Mark right now and have him fuck me instead—“

You cut yourself off with a cry of pure bliss when you felt Peter force himself into you with the help of your wetness as a lubricant. Your hands flew onto the glass, palms spread flat out on the surface as Peter gripped at your hips, pulling out till the tip was barely left in, only to slam himself into you with full force. “Fuck! Peter!” You moaned, your breasts pushed up against the glass window, your chest twitching due to the friction of your nipples rubbing against the surface. “Who can fuck you like this, hm? Who can fuck this pussy?” Peter grunts into your ear, repeatedly slamming his hips against your ass. “You, Peter! Oh fuck, it’s you!” You cry out, already feeling your legs buckling.

You couldn’t think of anything besides the feeling of Peter’s cock ramming into you. Filling you up perfectly. You were already on edge due to the teasing from earlier. You felt like a bucket being filled up, on the brim of tipping over. “Peter, slow down. I’m getting close.” You beg, using one of your hands to reach back and push against Peter’s pelvis. But rather than slowing down, Peter ignored the pleas from his wife and instead thrusted faster, his balls slapping against your cunt. “Oh god! P-please! I’m gonna cum!” You moaned out loud, shaking your head frantically.

Peter abruptly pulls out, catching you in his arms when you’re legs collapsed on themselves. “N-no..” You whined out pathetically when you felt your orgasm was ripped away from you. Peter picks you up in his arms, carrying you to a nearby table that was placed against the wall along the hallway. He sets you down on the marble table, placing himself in between your legs. “Look at me, beautiful. Who makes you this stupid when fucking you?” Peter asks, his tone sweet ironically compared to what he’s asking. “You, Peter.” You smile, wrapping your arms around the male’s neck. “Good girl.” He praises, pecking your mascara stained cheek.

He lines himself up to your gaping hole, pushing in once more, groaning. “Fuck, my baby’s pussy is so warm and tight. Look at it pulling my cock in.” He laughs. Once he fully bottomed out, his hip began snapping against yours. Squelching sounds fills the hallway along with the obscene noises that left your mouth. “I’m going to cum soon, baby.” Peter moaned out. You tightly wrapped your legs around Peter’s hips, locking him in a tight space. “I’m gonna cum in this little pussy of yours. Gon’ fill you up to the brim, fuck!‘M gonna fuck my babies into you.” Peter groans, laughing when he felt you clench tightly around him. “Oh yeah? You like the thought of me fucking my cum so deep inside of you? Getting you pregnant, hm? Your belly round and full of my kids?” He says, “Oh, fuck, yes! Please cum inside of me!” You plead, breasts bouncing with every harsh thrust Peter makes. “I’m.. gonna get you pregnant.” Peter breathes out, his thrusts beginning to get sloppy.

“I-I’m cumming!” You cried out, “Lets come together, love.” Peter moans, his thrusts quickening just for a few moments until it came to a full stop. “Fuck, Y/N!” He says as he came, his cock pulsating inside of you. Thick spurts of white, warm cum shot inside of you. Coating your insides with his seed.

“Peter!” You came straight after. Your eyes rolling back as one last moan that sounded like it came straight from a porno emitted from you. Your legs fully tightening around Peter hips, making sure to squeeze out every single drop of cum from the male. You felt yourself tipping over inside, a wave of pleasure coursing throughout your body, leaving you twitching.

Peter slowly pulls out once he felt himself go limp inside of you. He leaned over to embrace you into his arms, holding you close to him. “Happy birthday, Peter.” You giggle, pecking his cheek. “Thank you, love. Let’s get you fixed up before we go back downstairs, okay?” He suggests, moving a strand of hair away from your face. “But I’m pretty sure they’ve heard you. ‘Oh, fuck, yes! Please cum inside of me!’” Peter playfully mocks. You gasp and punched him in the arm, “Oh shut up!” You whine, hiding your face in Peter’s shoulder. “I hate you.” You mumble, “No you don’t. You love me.” Peter laughs, helping you wear your dress correctly.

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darklinaforever · 6 months

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I need to get this out of my system. What are these fans of Rhaenyra, Daemon, Daemyra, or even the three, who hate the Velaryon boys ?

Already, from 1, Rhaenyra will hate you for hating her precious children.

Second, no one on Team Blacks cared that Jace was a bastard. Nobody had a problem with that. So why did you, a fan of this so-called team and these characters, have one ?

Then... where does this idea come from that Daemon didn't like boys, and would have harmed them if the war hadn't broken out because he wanted his sons to inherit the throne in their place ?

Literally, it's based on nothing. Well, in fact yes. Rumors that Daemon was obsessed with the throne. You know, literally the information from the maesters who hated him. Because in fact, in the story itself, Daemon did nothing active to really have the throne, unlike the Greens or Corlys.

But beyond that, Daemon's blood would have ended up on the throne anyway, because Baela was Jace's fiancé.

However, I see people saying that Daemon didn't care about his daughters in general and were too sexist / misogynistic to accept that his blood to the throne would run through one of his daughters, rather than one of his sons.

Are we talking about the same Daemon who first extended the hand of reconciliation to Viserys so that his daughters were properly introduced into the world after their birth ? The same Daemon who fully accepted that his daughter Baela was a tomboy and let her do whatever she wanted ? (Also, in the books, there is no evidence of any discord whatsoever with Rhaena, so that argument is bullshit too) The same Daemon who accepted Rhaenyra as queen and defended it until the dead his position ?! Ok... I don't know why, but I have the impression that your Daemon is not the same as mine.

Then, from what I remember from the book, Daemon avenged Lucerys' death. Twice. Not one. Twice. The first time in "Eye for an Eye, a son for a son, Lucerys will be avenged" mode by killing a child of the Greens, and the second time by planting Dark Sister in Aemond's eye... Literally a tribute to the old gesture by Lucerys. And as for Jace, I remember that Daemon seemed to fully get along with him on a military level.

But apparently all that meant nothing !

Revenge for Lucerys is apparently for these people just an excuse for Daemon to satisfy his violent impulses and attack the Greens... (Whereas if that were the case, he would simply have to send assassins for each Greens ? What he didn't do ?) Also, if it's just a matter of satisfying an impulse, why kill Aemond the way he did ? Apart from a direct homage to Lucerys, what does that bring to Daemon in a selfish personal way ? Why not just kill Aemond by stabbing his sword somewhere else in his body ? The result would have been the same. After all, Lucerys had already been avenged. Also, the agreement with Jace was just a mask to better fool him and try to get rid of him later.

In fact, all this opinions have no support with Daemon's canonical actions. And I don't understand them. They are based solely on negative rumors against him by maesters for the throne, that sought to tarnish his image.

It's still crazy that people read Fire and Blood, especially the part about revenge for Luke and the way Daemon killed Aemond, and come to say that : Yes. Daemon would have totally sought to kill Lucerys himself if there hadn't been a war. He probably hated him for being a bastard and being a threat to his blood sons !

Basically you're accusing Daemon of being a misogynist and a blood purist... Basically what the Greens are.

You know... the ones who usurped the female heir that was Rhaenyra, refusing to accept a woman in power, and actively trying to harm her children for years without hiding the contempt they had for them ?

No, really, I find it ironic that members of Team Blacks, fans of Daemon, Rhaenyra and Daemyra are basically saying that Daemon is like the Greens.

The same guy who never actively tried to have the throne (And if anyone tries to tell me that Daemon's marriage to Rhaenyra was to try to gain power as her husband... Why was it never in fact against of Rhaenyra once she crowns Queen ? Seriously, be consistent), accepted Rhaenyra, a woman, as Queen, who let one of his daughters be a total tomboy and do what she wanted, help to educate the Velaryon boys over 10 years, having twice avenged the death of Lucerys and described as having gotten along well with Jace.

No really, I find it crazy that some people are convinced that Daemon despised his boys and planned to harm them one day.

Especially since such an argument quickly collapses when we realize that he spent 10 years with them before the war without any problems being recorded ? Seriously, if Daemon was planning to kill the Velaryon boys... why wait so long ?

Seriously, people who think that are just idiots in my eyes.

Even maesters who actively hated Daemon didn't have the guts to insinuate such a thing !

Nothing in the text indicates that Daemon hated the Velaryon boys, planning in any way to harm them. We have to stop talking stupid things now.

Even the series, which didn't understand much about the real Daemon Targaryen, doesn't suggest that Daemon has a problem with these boys !

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multi-fandom-imagine · 1 year

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« Importance || Peter B Parker ||

A/n: this was gonna be fore Miguel but I decided it fit Peter a bit better.

Prompt used:

Holding your jacket over your lover’s head as they hide from the rain, finding their formal outfit more important than your casual wear.

Peter knew he messed up when he ended the relationship with you, he couldn’t help but feel bitter when MJ informed him of your new relationship with Harry.

He thought the two we’re friends, that you were off limits but then again he fucked that relationship up too but if you were happy then he could be happy too, right?

Wrong. Miles may have given him the boost of confidence he needed but he wasn’t about to run up to you to confess that he still loved you and that he was an idiot that messed up. Though it seemed that the universe had other plans for him because he never expected to see you standing outside an awning wearing an elegant dress. You hadn’t spotted him of course, you were to busy yelling at someone on your phone.

He knew he shouldn’t butt in, that he should just keep his head hung low and be on his merry way but then it started to rain and you started to curse.

After hanging up on Harry you were about to step out onto the streets until it started to rain, though that was putting it nicely.

Hearing your name being called your eyes went wide for a moment. Peters name falling off your lips in a single breath, you didn’t expect to see him again. You hated the feeling of how your heart lurched, you hated knowing how you still felt the same way for him. “Peter you look good, though you might want to step out of the rain.”

Quickly making his way by your side the man let out a nervous laugh running his fingers through his wet hair. “Ah thanks…you look great, you look wow, you look beautiful.”

Feeling your cheeks warm you averted your eyes for a moment. “Thank you Peter….um I…I should really get home…this looks like it’s going to last all night and I have a feeling I’m going to be soaked…god I spent so much money on this stupid dress.” You muttered.

Opening his mouth for a moment, Peter quickly slipped off his jacket covering you head. “I’ll walk you the rest of the way….I don’t mind.”

Chuckling for a moment you stepped closer to Peters’s side. Still the same sweet man you feel for all those years ago and knowing that he won’t take no for an answer you grasped his hand. “Okay…shall we.”

It was a quiet walk, minus the rain hitting the side walk though you hated the silence. “Me and Harry are done.”

“What?!” Peter hadn’t been paying much attention, he was doing his best to keep you dry. “Shit….I’m sorry.”

“He cheated on me, confessed after our date….apparently he felt guilty. It was a one time thing, it’s who I was yelling at…and wow I’m sorry for dumping all of that on you” though you were grateful that you managed to get back to your little apartment.

Frowning, Peter adverted his eyes. He hated seeing you look so sad. He hated that Harry even had the chance to hurt you because he blamed himself, what could he even say to you.

‘I’m sorry? Ya that’s real nice.’

“Peter you’re talking to yourself?” Placing you hand on his door knob you squeezed it. “It was a little cute though…I.” Biting your lip smoothed out your dress thankfully it was still dry thanks to Peters efforts.

“Shit..I..Okay I’m gonna go. I….I still have the same number if you ever want to hang out and I’m going to stop talking so I’ll stop making an even bigger ass out of myself.”

Shaking your head you grasped his hand before he could leave. “Would you like to come in an dry off?”

“I..”Straighten his back, he gave you a smile. “I’d love too.”

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phoenixkaptain · 6 months

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Okay. I’ll write an actual analysis.

A Lonely Place of Dying does a few things, storytelling-wise, that are actually incredibly impressive. Like, I figured it out and I was so excited.

First, we don’t see Tim. Not in part 1. All we see is glimpses. His hands as he puts away his camera. His feet as he runs away from Starfire’s apartment. We only see small parts of him, leaving him shrouded in mystery, which leads into part 2, where he’s represented by a shadowy figure on the cover.

The Titans, but especially Starfire, are all worried about the small child looking for Nightwing. This kid knows Nightwing’s name, knows where he lives, nd has a very conspicuous camera. I’d be worried too! So of course, from the Titans perspective, he’s an intimidating opponent that they don’t understand. (Especially since I’m like ninety percent sure Tim isn’t actually the one they’re looking for. Like, I think it was just a happy coincidence that the most suspicious child on the face of the planet happened to show up at the same time as the actual problem.)

We don’t see Tim’s face until just under halfway through part 2. And the first thing they show us are his eyes. He’s searching for Dick, even among all the pandemonium, and it’s only upon him finding Dick that we see his whole face.

Tim’s eyes are important. They’re an important part of his character in this storyline. Because Tim sees things. He sees through Bruce, he sees through Dick, he sees through Alfred even. He’s always looking.

And this is compounded when he explains how he knows what he knows in part 3.

We see child Tim Drake at the circus. Tim says this to Dick “…I kept staring at you…” and this “I remember waiting for you to go on. And then, when you did, I just sat there and watched.”

On the next page, he says, about Dick’s parents’ deaths, “I turned away… I couldn’t watch. Then I heard you crying and I turned back and I saw you holding onto them, and I began crying, too.”

Page 11 has his monologue about seeing Batman for the first time, and how he thought Batman would hurt Dick, but what’s important isn’t the dialogue, it’s the panels. They focus on the realization of Batman being safe, entirely through Tim’s eyes. He’s panicked and scared, then slowly relaxes. We see it all, because Tim sees it all.

And it’s THIS. Tim started the story by finding Batman, but he starts his story by beginning to look for Dick. Us seeing Tim seeing Dick is a direct parallel to us seeing Tim seeing Batman with Dick. Tim’s story starts by him staring at Dick, unable to look away. And when we see him for the first time, he’s looking at him again, still unable to look away.

Throughout the story, Tim is constantly looking at Dick. Yes, this is mostly because he’s talking to Dick, but even at the end of part 2, when Dick is being congratulated by Haly’s Circus members and isn’t paying attention to Tim at all, Tim is still watching him.

Why is there so much emphasis on his eyes? I’m so glad you asked- IT’S VISUAL STORYTELLING BABEYYYY.

Tim’s most important role in A Lonely Place of Dying is as a third party. He cares about Bruce and Dick, and he knows them a lot better than they might think, but he’s still a third party to them. They don’t know him. He’s someone who’s been looking in on their lives for ten years.

He’s. A. Voyeur.

The emphasis being placed on his eyes cements this. Dick, Alfred, and Bruce are all put off by him at first. He knows too much, he doesn’t offer much information on himself until he’s forced to, it’s almost uncomfortable how much of a stalker this thirteen-year-old manages to be. He’s a voyeur, watching their lives, unnoticed by any of them, and that’s a bit unnerving! I don’t blame Dick for being unsettled by him, he’s weird!

And, his eyes as a child watching Dick to his eyes as a preteen finding Dick. They’re connected. A perfectly linear story, just told backwards. It’s really very satisfying.

Now, point two. The question we all have. Is Tim a stalker?

Short answer: yes.

Long answer: yes, but I’ll explain.

Tim begins the story by taking pictures of Batman fighting Ravager. The narration mentions someone calling in a tip to Gordon about Ravager’s location, which is what led Batman to this point, and I’m on the fence over whether or not Tim was the one who called in. On one hand, it would make a lot of sense. Ravager is part of a bigger ploy by Two-Face, and we find out in part 2 that Tim knows Two-Face is behind the trouble. It would also explain how Tim found a spot to set up his camera for a good portion of the fight. And, it isn’t like Tim wouldn’t know Gordon’s phone number. On the other hand, it’s never explicitly stated who called Gordon, so assume what you will.

Part 1 actually shows us a glimpse of Tim’s collection of photographs. It’s huge. Most of them are obviously newspaper clippings, but a few are just pictures (I assume on photo paper because the edges are cleaner than the newspaper photos). Tim says, in part 3 “You know, since I was able to read, I clipped every article on Batman and Robin.” We admittedly don’t know when Tim learned to read, but he’s thirteen and says he gets mostly A’s, so I’m assuming he probably learned in preschool or kindergarten, around the age of 3-5. That’s a lot of newpaper clippings. We only see his more recent and his most stalkery ones, so who knows how many more he has?

There are only a few points in the story where we see that Tim is genuinely emotional about anything. For the most part, he is calm. He smiles a lot. He doesn’t use a lot of exclamation marks. The only times he does use exclamation marks are when he’s monologuing (internally or externally) about how great Dick is or when he’s trying to make a point. The only time we see him get visibly distressed is when Dick ignores him about Batman needing a Robin.

I don’t know how to stress upon you that Tim only cries that one time. Tim almost dies three times in this comic. He went to his second circus and another person died. His idols both berate him and talk down to him (although Dick stops right after they meet with Bruce. I’m going to be honest, I think Dick wants Bruce to take Tim on as Robin because if Dick had to deal with Tim for a whole day, so does Bruce). He has to recount watching Dick’s parents die and the nightmares he got from it.

He went through so much. But, the only time he’s upset is when Dick won’t listen to him about what’s best for Batman.

Anyway, Tim flat out just says a lot of really stalker-y shit, so I’ll just list some more:

We already know about him clipping newspapers since he could read

When he’s asking Kory where Nightwing is, he lets slip to her that he was watching Titans Tower with this line “I know he wasn’t at your meeting today.”

There’s also a few lines from breaking and entering Dick’s apartment “Grayson kept his old apartment. If he left the Titans, he might be here.” “He’s a detective… he must keep notes. Even something scribbled on a shopping list.” “No! The Haly Circus is closing? It can’t be! It can’t! But at least I now know where he is!” (Why is the shopping list thing stalkery Kacie, I’m so glad you asked. Tim knows Dick well enough that he knows Dick writes things down. Bruce certainly doesn’t, and Bruce is also a detective, so it’s a logical leap unless Tim knows Dick is inclined to write things down.)

There’s one part that isn’t stalkery so much as really funny to me. While Tim is looking for Dick at the circus, he realizes that Dick is “a master of disguise” and that “I’ve been looking for Dick Grayson, but he could be anyone.” only to almost immediately after say “No, not the roustabouts. They’re too tall.” First, that means he can’t “be anyone.” Second, he knows Dick’s height just. So well.

Tim realizes who Dick is and I think I’ll just tell you what he said to explain how he figured it out “Th-that jump- - -that’s him! It’s got to be Dick!” What was so special about Dick’s jump? I don’t think there was anything special, I think Tim is just weird.

Dick asks Tim who he is no less than three separate times. Tim refuses to tell him, all three times. At the beginning of part 3, while Dick is introducing Tim to Alfred, Dick says “Alfred, this may be a bit awkward, but I’d like you to meet- - - -what did you say your name was again?” Implying that Tim did tell Dick, but only briefly.

Back in part 2, Tim says this to Dick “Look, I know you’re Nightwing. You used to be Robin. Then Jason Todd became Robin, and when he died, Bruce Wayne went to pieces.” Tim says this before telling Dick his name by the way.

Tim, upon being introduced to Alfred (a cont. of the earlier Dick line) “Tim. Mr. Pennyworth- - gosh I was really hoping we’d meet. I know you’re Batman’s confidant, and I’ve dreamed about the stories you could tell.”

Alfred’s response to this is “I am- - what did you say?” Which is very funny.

Some more stalker lines that come from Tim looking around the manor: “I’ve seen pictures of this place,” “There’s the renoir Mr. Wayne bought last year. I read about that in Art World Today.”, “He’s got an erte? Oh, I love his stuff.”, “Please, can I see the rest of the house?”

There’s this, which a part of was mentioned earlier “I don’t remember the clowns or the animals, or anything else. I just remember waiting for you to go on. And then, when you did, I just sat there and watched.”

Tim says, before explaining anything, “Okay, you won’t take me seriously until I tell you everything. Dick, I don’t want this to hurt you. And I’m really afraid it might.” He then says, “I’m sorry, Dick. I really am. I told you I didn’t want to hurt you by telling you all this.” Tim is right, Dick is hurt. Tim is a stalker, but he’s a conscientious stalker.

There’s this “That image of you doing your somersault- - - -it stayed with me for years. I couldn’t get it out of my mind.” “I knew that somersault. I knew it like I knew my own name.”

This is just the beginning of a sentence, but it still is very stalkery “When you moved to New York to become Nightwing…”

Or how about “…Batman and Robin have meant everything to me. I’ve followed them both… I know them so well. I knew when Dick left to become Nightwing. I knew when Jason came and became Robin… and I knew when Jason died.”

Tim mentions offhandedly that he managed at some point to slip a tracking device on Two-Face. An impressive feat, considering Two-Face was trying to hit him with a crowbar and Tim only came into contact with him twice, either to punch him in the face or push him away from attacking Alfred. I doubt he slipped it on him while punching him, but his ability to stay calm under pressure even while acting panicky, managing to smoothly slide a tracking device onto Two-Face that Two-Face never realizes is there, is very impressive. Or, it’s practiced-

Bruce says “I don’t want a partner. It’s as simple as that.”

Tim responds “After all you’ve been through, I understand.”

So you may be wondering, with all of this overwhelming evidence and the fact that he knows where both Kory and Dick live and the fact that he already knew Alfred Pennyworth was Batman’s confidant and all of the weird, supervillain-esque shit he says, why does anyone like him?

And I’ll tell you why. It’s because he’s so fucking awkward.

Tim says things like “oh thank goodness” or “gosh” or “it’s still been wonderful.” Tim stutters talking to Batman. Tim fanboys over Dick and Bruce constantly. He isn’t even upset to have gotten a mystery wrong, he’s just happy he got to see Dick solve a case.

But also, Tim is right. Batman is acting recklessly, and it’s directly as a result of Jason dying. Tim says he needs Robin, not Nightwing, but I think what he means is more the role that they fill. Robin is little and Bruce can tuck him under his wing and keep him safe. Nightwing is an adult who argues with him and is a good leader in his own right, leading to more arguments. Robin is someone Batman has to take notice of, has to account for when making plans. Nightwing can keep up, and he isn’t as worried about Nightwing because he trusts Nightwing’s ability to stay alive. They fill very different roles, and that’s what Tim means, even if he has trouble saying it.

And he’s completely right. Batman without Robin runs recklessly into a building without scoping it out, tries to save two boys tied with active grenades by himself, walks into a room full of mobsters with guns without having any protection himself. Tim implies that he’s worried Bruce might die, and he’s right to be worried.

But even with Nightwing there, Batman only worries when things go wrong. He doesn’t see Dick as his scrappy little sidekick anymore, he sees him as an adult. And it’s only when Dick’s in trouble that Bruce reverts to treating him like a child.

Robin makes Batman stop and think before they go in. Robin makes Batman patient. Because Bruce cares about Dick and Jason, and he comes to care about Tim too.

Tim wins him over by being clever, but later comics show that they have to build trust in each other. Tim trusts Bruce completely, right off the bat, and that’s overwhelming for Bruce. But Bruce stops being overwhelmed and starts feeling fond.

Because despite everything I said, Tim is a good person. He’s so worried about Bruce that he’s willing to search everywhere to find Dick to try and help him. He’s so worried about Bruce that he spends his vacation week slumming around on his bicycle trying to save Bruce’s life. He dives down a coal chute without a second thought, and he pushes with all his might to unbury Batman and Nightwing. He cares about them, and it’s painfully obvious that he does.

Tim doesn’t want to be Robin. Like, okay, he would love to be Robin, but that’s not why he’s here. He doesn’t want to tell Dick his first name, and it’s only after seeing that Dick isn’t taking him seriously that he spills the beans. He didn’t want to tell Dick, because that would hurt Dick. He says “B-Batman, it’s hard for me to say this to you” because he’s about to tell Bruce off for being reckless and he doesn’t want to. Tim wants to know that Bruce and Dick are safe, and that’s the only thing he wants.

Yes, Tim is definitely a stalker. He literally said himself that he followed them, and even if it was only through newspapers, it still counts as following. Now, maybe he doesn’t fit this dictionary definition of a stalker: “a person who harasses or persecutes someone with unwanted and obsessive attention,” but I think he does fit this dictionary definition: “a person who hunts prey stealthily.” Tim is stealthy and quick.

I read an article that said his weakness was unexpected situations, but I would argue that that’s bullshit. Tim is great in unexpected situations. Did he expect Two-Face to start trying to beat him with a crowbar? No, but he managed to avoid being hit and plant a tracker on him. Did he expect Two-Face to crush the Batmobile he’s sitting in with a wrecking ball? No, but he managed to jump out and hide and tried to warn Batman and Nightwing to watch out. Did he expect Bruce to agree to let him train to be Robin? No, but he’s going to do the best he can now that he has the chance.

From the very beginning, we can see that Tim is someone with an answer to just about everything. He knows things, he notices things, and he’s good at reacting. Later comics don’t dispute this, that I know of. Tim is the Robin with multiple contingencies for his contingencies, but he’s also the Robin who is most likely to say “oh shit I did not see that coming.” He’s a surprised sometimes, yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s unprepared.

All in all, Tim Drake is a fascinating character study of a rich kid who talks like an elderly woman providing therapy for a man who is at least two, if not three, decades his senior. Tim doesn’t quite understand at any point that monitoring isn’t the same thing as showing affection, which is why he and Bruce get along swimmingly and why Tim is often slated to be the Robin most alike to Batman.

Congratulations, Tim.

Also, I really truly believe that Tim had his first crush on Dick, which is why he couldn’t stop staring at him. And I didn’t mention he said this, because it wasn’t important to the points I was making, but it’s important to this one. Tim says “…I kept staring at you, and your circus costume.” The circus costume being similar to Robin’s is never brought up, only the fact fact that Tim couldn’t stop staring at it. I’m telling you, his first crush was here, it’s so obvious, just look at my corkboar-

#the inane ramblings of a madman #dc #batman #robin #tim drake #bruce wayne #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #a lonely place of dying #long post #like so long #i’m so sorry but also not really #had to take my mom to the hospital at 5am and waited there for six hours #you guys can suffer through some ramblings #anyway #been thinkin bout timmer lately #so i reread his introduction #him being introduced as a shadowy figure with unclear motives #will never not be funny to me #kory shouting ‘wait how did you know where i live’ always makes me giggle #tim is a head shorter than dick #starfire is taller than dick #i have to imagine that tim goes up to her shoulders #like he does with batman #he’s just an intimidating little guy #no wonder he does so well as batman later on #also dick says ‘you can’t bring the dead back to life’#and i had to google when jason was brought back #just so i could make the joke ‘won’t he feel silly in 16 years’

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