I hope I'm in your dreams

Steve actually does remarkably well dealing with your period, considering it's the first one he's spent with you, and that you've only been dating for less than two months. Technically, you'd had one towards the beginning of your relationship, but he'd been on summer vacation with his parents and as much as you'd missed you new boyfriend you'd been glad to suffer alone.

This morning, though, after your sheepish cancellation of your poolside date over the phone, he shows up with flowers, chocolates, and the hoodie right off of his back.

"Uh, I got you chocolate! Here," He thrusts the plastic bag into your hands worriedly, three chocolate bars stacked together inside that are far too small for the giant bag they're in. He clutches at the flowers as you fish the candy out, peering at two milk chocolate bars and a dark- you think back and realize Steve's never heard your preference before, and you think it's sweet that he splurged and got both.

"Thanks, Steve," You grin warily at him, embarrassed on principle alone despite him being kind about everything so far, "I- I'm sorry we couldn't go to the pool."

"It's fine," He waves a hand dismissively, his brows furrowing as he scoffs, "We live right by it- we'll go some other time. Do you want- like, water or something? Here," He shucks his sweatshirt off, "You can wear this if you want."

You definitely do, and you try not to seem too eager as you slide it over your head and settle into the pre-warmed, cozy-smelling fabric.

"I've got water." A smile slowly but surely crests over your face as Steve wipes his palms nervously on the seat of his jeans, eyes darting around like he might find blood splattered against the walls.

"Shouldn't you be laying down? It's, like, painful, isn't it?"

"Well I had to answer the door," You giggle breathily, and his eyes widen despite your teasing tone, like he really thinks you'd endured torturous agony just to come downstairs and let him inside.

"It's not that bad though!" You catch him before he can apologize, "It'll probably start hurting later but I'm okay right now. Do you want to, um, watch a movie or something? I can do that, if you want."

You're still shy inviting Steve to spend time with you despite dating for several weeks now. He's just so boyishly handsome that you're sure it'll take years and probably some patchy facial hair to stop getting so flustered around your stunning boyfriend.

He grins, his lashes fluttering as he blinks, "We can do that. You want me to give you a massage or something? Does that help?"

"It might," You consider your frequent backaches, the twinges of one beginning now from the five minutes you've spent on your feet, "Warmth helps too, so if we're just- y'know," You stammer, "-if we could like, cuddle, or something, I think that'd be good."

You feel one of the chocolate bars between your fingers beginning to grow squishy under the heat of your clenched fingers. You hadn't realized your palms had grown this sweaty, and you shuffle them nervously between your hands to air them out.

Steve's grin deepens, a teasing edge taking over one corner of the expression until it morphs into a gentle smirk, "You can't say cuddle?"

"I can!" You feel your own grin spreading, bashful but inevitable, "I did, I said cuddling would probably help."

"Yeah, but you got all fidgety," Steve eyes your hands still fiddling with the chocolate bars, "Are you still nervous around me?"

You should be nice to the boy, even if he's antagonizing you. You should shyly nod your head, good-naturedly laugh at yourself, then tilt your gaze up at him so that he comes and murmurs something tragically attractive against your lips like, 'C'mon, sweetheart, I'm yours. What are you afraid of?'

Instead, you force your face into a grimace, "No, Steve, it's just- aah, I'm starting to get kind of crampy," You clutch at your abdomen, "Y'know, all the blood is actually the lining of my uterus, so when it sheds, it hurts really bad-"

Steve blanches, stumbling back a step like you're casting a menstrual hex on him. He tries valiantly to keep his expression neutral and sympathetic but you see the fear in his eyes, and he babbles, "Oh god- okay, that sounds really painful, maybe we should go lay down now."

He takes the chocolate from you, and wraps a tender arm around your waist to lead you into the den. You frequent this couch throughout your periods, often lazing around watching movies with glazed eyes that don't really see them. You settle comfortably into your usual spot and wait for Steve to join you, and he wisely lays himself out in a way that leaves a space for you against his chest. You abandon your trusty butt-print in the cushion to snuggle your face into the crook of Steve's neck, and just the scent of him that you breathe in is enough to make you forget about the stirrings of pain you can feel beneath your stomach.

"Like this?" He asks, his fingers beginning to knead into your belly. You push them gently towards your back, and his thumbs find the spots you need them to almost immediately, rubbing soothingly into the aching muscles. The ache is deep, not a knot that needs to be worked out but the sting of overexertion, but relaxing into his chest helps, and you nod shyly against his t-shirt as he continues grinding the pads of his fingers across the expanse of your back.

"What movie do you wanna watch?" He asks, and you remember with a sleepy frown that you'd offered to entertain him. It had taken you approximately three seconds to begin falling asleep on him, and now you're going to have to force yourself to stay awake for at least two hours to watch something with him. But he's beyond sweet for being here in the first place, so you blink away the painful fog over your brain and crane your neck up to look at him.

"I dunno, whatever you want." Your voice is slightly thick with exhaustion, and as Steve looks down at you you watch his honey brown eyes soften. He can't help it- one hand leaves your back to stroke over your forehead, smoothing an imaginary flyaway down.

"Y'know," He coos, impossibly soft, "I'm kind of tired. Are you?"

You nod, your eyes drooping.

"Let's just nap," He suggests, and you face-plant back into his chest with enough ferocity to bruise him with the tip of your nose, "I can make us food when you wake up, and then we can think about movies."

I got a comment on a fic that is less than a year old and it was mostly an apology for being a comment on an "old fic" and how late they were in commenting.

Fandom is not trends.

Fandom is a cross between a library and having a slumber party with your friends.

Just a fluffy little tasm!Peter x gf reader blurb because I am feeling scared and sad for no reason and would like to be comforted like this, please and thank you. 🙃🩷

CW: anxiety, fear

You were sitting next to Peter on the couch trying not to cry. He was right next to you, and you loved him, and yet you felt so alone. So scared. This was a stomach-churning, familiar feeling—free-floating sadness and fear with no discernible source, no plausible explanation.

Peter laughed at the show you two were watching and you jumped… then laughed like you knew what was going on. 

He looked at you. “Hey, are you okay?”

You smiled. “I’m fine. I’ll just be right back.” You got up, climbed over his legs, and went into the bathroom. You pushed the door behind you and sat on the edge of the tub. Tears were flowing freely now and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You realized the door had only closed partway, but one thing at a time. You dropped your head between your knees to try to alleviate the nausea. Your breathing was ragged and you felt so scared... but of what? That part was maddening.

You became aware of a tiny, barely audible tapping on the bathroom door.

“Hi,” you said, your voice muffled because your head was between your knees.

“I didn’t want to startle you again. Are you okay? Can I come in?”

You froze. You hated people seeing you like this, even Peter, but you also wanted someone to tell you everything was going to be okay. You made a noise that wasn’t really affirmative or negative. “I’m just not feeling well,” you managed to say.

“Oh, okay. Can I get you anything? Flat soda?”

You smiled through your tears. He was always so game to help. You longed to say yes, but what could he do? Not even Peter Parker could help you when you were drowning like this. 

You brought your head up, and your movement caught Peter’s eye. That damn heightened vision.

“Hey.” His voice was so soft and gentle, like he was talking to a scared cat or something. But then it quickly became alarmed. “Uhh, what’s all over your face?”

“What?” Well, that sure pulled you out of your anxiety! You jumped up and rushed to the mirror, but when you saw your reflection, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What, you don’t like this?” You turned around to face Peter in the doorway. “I think it’s a good look.”

He stepped into the bathroom and squinted. “Is that… mascara?” He ran his thumb over your damp cheek and came away streaked with black.

“Yes, yes it is.”

“Okay, well, that’s a relief.” He chuckled, then held your head in his hands. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

His kindness just made you cry harder because the messaging you usually got was that your feelings were inconvenient and unwelcome.

“I’m sorry I’m like this.”

“I’m sorry you’re like this too.”

Your heart dropped and that must have translated on your face because he instantly started rambling. “No, I didn’t mean anything bad, I just wish you didn’t feel like this. I don’t care if you’re like this. I mean, I do care, but not in a negative way.” He sighed, finally giving up. “I just want to help.”

He was so sweet you couldn’t resist a tiny smile. “Thank you.”

“Would it be okay if I hugged you?”

You nodded and let him pull you into his chest. His warm arms wrapped tightly around you, and you leaned into him, listening to his heartbeat. For as lanky as he was, he could give a good weighted blanket hug. His hand rubbed your back. Despite being ostensibly orphaned, he was very loving and shared it easily. I love your precious heart. You'd heard that line in a song somewhere the other day, and you’d thought of him then… and certainly now.

“I’m just anxious is all,” you whispered. “I can’t even explain it, I don’t know where it came from, it just… grabbed my ankles and pulled me under while we were sitting on the couch.”

He kissed the top of your head.

“I would have told you, I just can’t even put it into words beyond… scared. And alone. And I know you’re literally holding me and it makes no sense....”

“No, I’ve felt that way before. Alone with other people?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s the best way to put it. Because your feelings are always there, just waiting to attack you, whether you’re alone or not. You’re always alone, at least sort of, and that is terrifying.”

He slowly rocked you in his arms. “You’re not alone right now, though. Even if it feels that way, I swear, you’re not alone. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You guys have got to start reblogging stuff you enjoy, especially, specifically gifs and fan art but also fics and fan theories or even hot takes if you're not afraid of a lil discourse. I'm tired of being the first or third reblog for a person's post and then seeing my blog's followers do nothing but hit like, while blogs sit there with no new posts in months or years!

Reblog more stuff please. Thank you, have a good day.