No No Bro You Don’t Understand. I’m Not Romanticizing Murder. I’m Sexualizing It.

Spidershield but Peter is a constantly horny teen who loves to tease and try to seduce Steve, while Steve is trying to be a good person and not take advantage of his much younger boyfriend, making sure to wait till he feels Peter is “ready”.

One day Steve and Peter are talking about art and Peter begs Steve to show him what he can do. He’s only heard stories of how Steve loves to draw, but he’s never seen any of Steve’s work. So Steve agrees on the condition Peter gets him a sketchpad and pencils.

After Peter finished school that day he comes back with the materials Steve needs and hands them to him, asking him to wait till he’s changed out of his school clothes.

What happens next is not what Steve had imagined. Peter slowly walks into the room with nothing but a bath robe on. He walks over to the couch opposite where Steve is sitting with his drawing materials and seductively drops the robe, leaving himself naked and smirking playfully.

“Draw me like one of your French girls,” he says, lying down on the couch and posing seductively for Steve.

Steve just stares open-mouthed. He tries not to look at certain body parts but Peter has never been naked in front of him before. God, he’s beautiful. The most beautiful person Steve has ever laid his eyes on. And the way he’s acting right now and teasing him right now… Steve is glad to have a sketchpad in his lap because his body is reacting.

Finally he manages to find his voice. “You’re going to get me into trouble.”

“Am I?” Peter asks, face full of innocence.

“Definitely.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m about to go against my own morals if you don’t put some clothes on.”

“I’m your boyfriend. It’s okay to want it.”

“You’re 17, Peter.”

“If you had a problem with that you wouldn’t be dating me.”

Steve stares at Peter, trying to find some part of himself that says no. But his whole body is screaming yes. He closes his eyes, breathes out slowly through his nose and then opens his eyes again speaking in a firm voice.

“I’m going to draw you. And then I’m going to fuck you. Is that okay?”

Peter’s heart skips a beat. He nods and blushes. Steve has never spoken to him like this before.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Alright. Now be a good boy and stay still for me and maybe I’ll let you cum later.”

Peter has never been so still in his life.

I'll never get over this meme 🤣🤣🤣

Translation:

"Movie Summary

Spiderman Homecoming: An older man gives expensive gifts to a minor he met online and asks him to wear tight clothing"

LMFAO

~ mystisophia 🍒

"Bleed the Sky"

The sky bursts open,

not gently,

not softly,

but like a body breaking,

like something holding on for too long

finally letting go.

The first drop hits—

hot asphalt hisses,

dust rises like ghosts startled awake,

and the earth opens her mouth

like she’s starving.

There’s no beauty here.

No poetry.

Just the raw writhing of water finding cracks,

finding hunger,

finding every place that aches or crumbles or waits.

The rain doesn’t ask permission.

It doesn’t care where it falls—

forest, rooftop, desert, skin.

It pounds against leaves as if to punish them

for turning their faces away,

fills the throats of rivers

until they choke on their own rushing,

slides down windowpanes like tears

too heavy to hold back.

And it keeps going.

There is no tenderness in this.

This is not about grace.

This is about gravity and surrender,

the weight of billions of tiny impacts

stripping the world bare.

And something in you loosens—

against your will,

unraveling in the rhythm,

in the relentless pounding that reminds you of your own breaking,

of the times you couldn’t stop falling.

You stand there,

letting it hit you,

letting it drench everything you thought was safe.

Maybe this is what healing feels like:

not silent, not soft,

not clean.

But messy.

Wet hands in the dirt,

skin soaked,

blurry vision as everything spills.

The rain knows.

It always knows.

It comes to destroy,

and in the destruction

it leaves something you didn’t know you were—

raw, gasping,

and growing.

The best compliments and insults are both just describing the person. Just describe whatever you can clearly observe about them. The distinction of whether that's an insult or a compliment is whether you're saying it with a pleasant tone, or if you're saying that like it's a bad thing.

Children, who make their observations in an utterly deadpan voice as neutral remarks, are capable of obliviously roasting people because they haven't noticed this.

literally him

@GLAMOUR UK: We’re still blushing #SebastianStan#baftas #baftaawards #awardshow #fyp #fy

Never forget:

Steve Rogers was a theatre kid, starred in movies, wore micro shorts and tights everyday on stage (Bucky: You're keeping the outfit right?), and lost his virginity to a groupie

Bucky Barnes is a nerd—eager to go to the Stark Expo science exhibit, read the Hobbit books as soon as they were released—and was also a great dancer. 1940s dating culture involved a lot of dancing, and good dancers got dates

DryerLint Starker Fanfic Masterlist

The Name on Your Lips (E-29,271)

Drop Dead Legs (E - 9,991)

My Fair Peter (E - 32,174)

Much Ado About Tropes (E - 59,246)

I Met You in a Dream (E - 10,121)

Freaky Friday (E - 40,626)

My Heart on Your Sleeve (E- 8,794)

Deadpool: Logan, you’re like a fine wine. Logan: …Aged well? Deadpool: No, you make people violent, you smell like regret, and I have to fight the urge to chug you at 3 AM.