#I needed to draw something to counter that negativity

[gotchibam]

*offers you this doodle of happy trans pikachus for pride month* :) 💖💖💖

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Avoiding your husband wasn't the best way to deal with your problems. Neither was baiting him into having a conversation that you knew was going to annoy him. But you were frustrated with work and your body, and somehow you knew Bradley would never blame you for any of it. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You had been trying for weeks to tolerate having Cat in your lab and your workspace. She was a great addition to your team. Quick and smart. Everyone else seemed to think she was wonderful. But you... just didn't.

Or rather, Cat didn't seem to like you. There must have been something about you that just rubbed her the wrong way. Other than a greeting each morning when you saw each other, she tended to steer clear of you, preferring to work near Macy and Sonya. 

You tried not to let it bug you, but it was hard when Jake was constantly stopping in to see you at work. He was an attention grabber. He was obviously handsome. And he was obviously also not your husband. So you started getting a few looks here and there from your coworkers. And you knew it was all because he thought Cat was gorgeous and wouldn't stay out of your lab. 

"What are you doing here?" you asked him one afternoon when he walked in and leaned on the counter next to where you were working on a line of code on your computer. "I just saw you last night at the bar."

"Just saying hi to my favorite engineer," he drawled, eyes resting on Cat where she was working across the room. When she glanced up at Jake, her eyes were softer than they ever were for you. 

You turned on your stool to face him. "Why can't you just be honest with me?" you asked him. "You're transparent to me, Seresin."

He looked down his nose at you and raised one eyebrow. "This is a two way street, Angel. And you've not been honest with me."

You looked at him, brow scrunched up. "What are you talking about?"

He sighed. "You're avoiding your husband. He was looking for you at lunchtime today. I don't want to listen to you whining about how much you miss him next time he's deployed when you're avoiding him now."

Your heart lurched. If Jake noticed how you'd been acting the past few days, then Nat probably did too. And you did not enjoy being on the receiving end of her temper when Bradley got angsty because of you. 

"I'm not," you whispered. But you kind of were. Your period was due tomorrow, and your thoughts were once again consumed with buying a pregnancy test on your way home from work. Which was ridiculous. Because you knew how you were going to react when it was negative. You were going to spiral again. You were going to upset Bradley again. He kept telling you that none of this was your fault, but you just weren't so sure. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jake asked you softly, his blue eyes fully focused on you instead of Cat. But you shook your head and looked down at your hands in your lap.

"No. Not right now."

"Hey," he said, and you looked up at him. "Whenever you want some girl talk, I'm your man."

You laughed out loud, drawing the attention of your labmates, including Cat. "Thanks, Jake."

"Now," he drawled, leaning against the counter on one elbow, "can you please put in a good word for me?" He nodded toward Cat, and you just rolled your eyes.

"I would, but I don't even know if she's single. She doesn't like me very much."

Jake's eyes went wide. "Everyone likes you."

You just shook your head and said, "Not her. But I need to work on a bunch of proposals and shit with her this month, so I'm going to try my best to get her to crack."

"When you do, make sure you tell her what a stand up guy your good friend Jake is."

You ended up kicking him out shortly after that. And then you texted Bradley.

I love you, Roo. Movie night later?

Then you took a deep breath and grabbed your computer and made your way over to Cat. "Have a few minutes to look at these proposals or maybe check some of my coding?"

"Sure," she replied, pulling out the stool next to hers with her foot. 

"Thanks," you mumbled, making yourself comfortable. "I just finished reworking this code if you want to take a look."

Cat sighed and pulled your computer a little closer. "I know this is how you do things around here, but there's a more efficient way."

You looked at her out of the corner of your eye. "Oh. Okay... well, maybe you can show me?"

Now she was the one looking at you cautiously. She sighed again and started typing away on your computer silently, just leaving you to watch what she was doing. You had to admit, she did have an efficient way of working. 

"Hey, Baby Girl."

You spun around to find your husband standing behind you. 

"Roo," you sighed, hopping up from your stool and wrapping your arms around him.

"I missed you at lunch. Ended up dumping hot sauce all over my food to drown out my loneliness."

You laughed against his chest. "Sorry."

He kissed the top of your head and told you, "You want a movie night? I'll stop and get some beer on the way home."

But you shook your head and looked up at him. "I actually need some other stuff at the store, so I'll grab the beer."

He nodded and smiled at you. "Sounds perfect."

"Wait, did you come all the way up here instead of just texting me back?"

Bradley leaned down close to your ear. "I would do anything for an excuse to see you."

The warmth of his words washed over your body just as Cat cleared her throat. You turned to look at her with embarrassment all over your face. 

"Uh, Cat, you remember my husband, Bradley?" you asked awkwardly. 

"Yes," she said in a curt voice. "We've met. He's been here several times."

"It's nice to see you again," Bradley replied in his most charming voice, and even Cat wasn't immune to that. She smiled softly at him before turning back to her work. 

"You should go," you told Bradley, running your fingers through his hair and kissing him briefly before pushing him toward the door. "See you at home later."

And then he was gone and you were left with Cat and her attitude about the way you got your work done.

-------------------------

Bradley made it home before you. He took Tramp for a short walk after changing into some gym shorts and an old shirt. The neighbors had their grandchildren over, so Bradley stopped and let them play with Tramp. The kids always went absolutely nuts for him, and honestly, Tramp loved the kids probably more than they loved him. 

"Trying to get you one of your very own," he told his dog as they walked up the driveway past the Bronco. Tramp jumped up and licked Bradley's hand like he understood. Like he was begging for his own kid to play with. "Working on it."

Bradley knew you were busy with work. Your promotion banquet was coming up soon. And he was pretty sure your period was due to arrive any day now. It felt like you and he were playing the waiting game every month. Bradley didn't really mind too much; trying to get you pregnant was perhaps the least stressful part of his daily routine. Fucking you had been bliss since the very first night he spend with you. 

But he could feel the stress in your body every month when you got your period now. When he tried to tell you that sometimes this took time, you didn't want to hear it. And it had only been a few months since you stopped using birth control. But you didn't want to hear that either. 

Bradley took Tramp inside, and then he heard your terrifying little car pull into the driveway. You came inside with some shopping bags and a six pack of your favorite beer. "I picked up dinner," you told him. "I think I have PMS, so I got some sushi."

"Perfect," he replied, noting the way you were biting your lip a little nervously. "Come here." He pulled you into his arms. "You pick the movie."

"Hmmm... 90s throwback night?" you asked, wiggling out of his grasp and starting to undress in the living room.

"My favorite," he murmured, watching your shirt slip down your arms. 

Then you vanished toward the bedroom, calling out, "Be right back."

He sighed and set up the sushi and beers on the coffee table. Then he fed Tramp dinner and waited for you. When you came back out in one of Bradley's oversized shirts and plopped down on the couch, he was right there with you. He barely paid attention to which movie you chose, realizing about fifteen minutes later that he was watching Wild Things. 

When you finished your sushi and took the last sip of your beer, you gently pushed Bradley back along the couch and curled up on his chest. Bradley loved your body weight on top of him like this. He felt warm and secure with your forehead resting on his neck while you watched the movie. But he was watching you and the way you reacted to his fingers gliding along your arm. Your eyelashes brushed along your perfect cheek. 

He was thinking about how good you'd look with a baby bump when you shifted a little bit to look up at him. "You like this movie," you said against his chest, and he laughed. He was barely even watching it. "It's got the threesome scene with Neve Campbell and Denise Richards."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "That's not why I like this movie. I like it because it has a good soundtrack."

"Yeah, okay," you said with a laugh. And he let it go until a minute later when you asked, "Do you honestly expect me to believe that you wouldn't jump at the chance to have a threesome if I brought it up?"

Bradley was speechless. He just looked at you for a beat while you watched the movie.

"That's what I thought," you murmured with another laugh.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" he asked, shifting underneath you. "Are you trying to insinuate that you are not satisfying me? Or that I am not doing a good job of satisfying you? Because either way, I have a problem with this."

He grasped your chin between his fingers until you were looking up at him. "I was just making my point that you'd want to."

"I would not," he said louder. "Would you?"

You shook your head. "Of course not."

He blinked at you a few times. "I think about you and only you all fucking day long. And I'm too jealous and stubborn to share you. So don't ever make a comment like that again, okay? And if I'm not doing a good job, just tell me."

"You are!" you insisted, propping yourself up so that your chest was just grazing his and your lips were inches from his chin. "You make sure I cum before you do like ninety percent of the time, and you have a huge dick!"

"There's a little more to it than that," he growled. "If I'm not making you feel like you're important to me, then what's the point?"

You gasped and kissed his chin. "Roo. I'm sorry I said anything."

Bradley was a little worried about his performance now. Last week on the dining room floor, he wasn't sure if you came or not. His knees started hurting from digging into the hardwood. Maybe his nearly thirty seven years of age were showing. And when he bent you over the piano bench, he had to work very hard to get you off with his fingers before he came.

"Oh my goodness," you said, a little louder now. "You're not even lying, are you? You actually wouldn't want to have a threesome."

"No! We made wedding vows! I'm not about to stick my dick in anyone except you! And I wouldn't even want to!"

Your lips were on his, and your fingers were tangled in his hair. You were straddling his waist and murmuring, "You're so sweet, Roo."

He pulled you tight against him, letting you feel how hard he was for you. "I'm fucking crazy about you, Sweetheart," he swore. "If I'm not satisfying-" 

But your lips were on his again, and you were rubbing yourself against his abs. Bradley grabbed at your hips underneath the oversized shirt. "You are!" you promised. "You're incredible. We're incredible."

"Then why the fuck are you saying that stuff?" he groaned when you started sucking on his neck.

"You're going to give me a complex."

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I'm just feeling a little insecure today."

"Why?" Bradley asked, easing his hands up along your waist, enjoying the feel of your smooth skin. "Why would you ever have a reason to feel insecure? You're perfect."

You ran your nose along his Adam's apple. "Cat Coleman hates me for some reason. And I'm going to have to work a little bit this weekend, because I'm behind on the proposals. And my period is coming despite my best efforts."

"Stop it," Bradley said, gently squeezing your waist so that you met his eyes. You sat up, straddling his torso. "If Cat Coleman doesn't like you, then she's an idiot. I can help you this weekend. It's supposed to rain. You can read the proposals out loud to me while I feel you popcorn. And if you get your period, then we'll keep trying. Like I said, you're perfect."

You smiled down at him and started to pull his shirt up over his abs. "Okay, Roo."

"We got nothing to worry about," he whispered, tucking his finger inside your underwear, making you gasp as he stroked you. "Unless you start telling me you do want to have a threesome."

"I don't," you promised, kissing his lips. And then you pulled Bradley's shorts and underwear down to his thighs, and your slick pussy met his cock. "This okay?" 

"'Course," he grunted. You slipped him inside, and once he was fully seated, you glanced up and kissed him again. 

Then you carefully pressed your chest to his. "I love you, Roo." Your lips were soft on his scarred neck and cheek as he ran his hands up and down along your back. He was so comfortable like this, with you warming his cock. You softly fluttered around him, soothing him with every little squeeze and movement. You had control over him. You always did, because he'd given it to you. But your fingers in his hair and your soft voice near his ear...you just owned him. 

More than anything, he wanted to make you happy. Take your stress away. And he knew that in the next few days, you'd either be delighted or miserable again, depending on if you got your period. So he wanted to enjoy this moment with you. Let you enjoy yourself with him. 

As soon as you started moving your hips, you were moaning softly. Bradley pressed himself up against you, rubbing his rough hairs along your clit. "Tell me what you want."

You sighed and moved your hips a little faster. "Make it last forever."

Bradley wasn't sure if you were talking about this moment in particular or everything. But he'd make it all last for you. For his wife. You rode him on the couch until you came, chanting his name with his hands all over your breasts. Then he flipped you over onto your back, and you wrapped your legs around his waist while he fucked you nice and slow.

"You didn't cum yet," you gasped a few minutes later when he stroked your clit closer to another orgasm.

"You told me to make it last forever," he whispered, cock deep inside you as he pinched you and listened to you whine for him. 

When he finally ended up in bed with you, he was a sweaty mess, and your pussy was filled with his cum. You were babbling softly as he tucked you in and plugged your phone into the charger. He went back to the living room to turn off the movie that he hadn't even watched and let Tramp out into the backyard. Yeah, he wanted this to last forever, too. Whether it was just the three of you or not. 

---------------------

The next morning, you were in tears again. When you stopped for beer and sushi on the way home last night, you made a little detour to buy some more pregnancy tests. Negative. They were always negative. Bradley was dicking you down constantly. You'd made him feel so insecure last night, that he held onto you this morning and wouldn't let you get out of bed.

"We'll be late for work," you whispered, knowing you'd have to get Bradley out of the house so you could take one of the tests before you left, too. 

"I love you too much to get up."

"If you get up now, I'll make you an omelette." 

You laughed when Bradley jumped out of bed, and even after you made breakfast and sent him on his way, you had time to take the pregnancy test before you left too.

Crying in your car on your way to work had become this kind of sick routine. But at least you had fifteen minutes to get it out of your system before you parked. Then you had another ten minutes to make your face look neutral again before you made it to your lab with your computer. 

You barely said a word to anyone until it was time for lunch. Part of you wanted to pull the same stunt you'd been pulling for weeks and tell Bradley you were too busy to eat in the cafeteria with him. But Jake was right. When Bradley was deployed again, you'd be nonstop wishing he was here with you. So you locked your computer and followed everyone else out.

"Hey, Cat?" you called out before you could stop yourself. She turned her dark, appraising eyes on you, and you sucked in a deep breath as you caught up with her. You knew Jake wanted to get to know her, and you knew that would be made much easier for him if in fact you got to know her first.

"Yes?"

"Just wanted to see if you wanted to eat lunch with me. I'll probably sit with my husband and some of our friends, if you-"

"I'm going to eat with Sonya. But thank you." Her face was still expressionless as she cut you off. But you didn't want to be deterred so easily.

"Okay," you said with a forced smile. "Well, we're going to hang out at the Hard Deck later, maybe shoot some pool or play darts. If you want to-"

"I'll think about it, thanks."

And then she was strolling down the hallway away from you. And the tears were filling your eyes all over again. You turned toward your office and pulled your phone out of your pocket. 

I'm going to eat in my office.

As soon as you unlocked the door, Bradley had written back.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: I'll bring some sandwiches up and join you. 

You managed to calm yourself down, taking deep breath after deep breath while you organized your file cabinet. But when Bradley knocked on the open door and you looked up to see his smile, you burst into tears. 

"Sweetheart." He kicked the door closed and tossed the sandwiches onto your desk. "Come here." He sat down in your chair and patted his thigh, and you sank down to meet his big body while you sobbed. He held you and let you cry as you curled your legs up under yourself and burrowed against him. 

You wiped the tears away but kept your eyes closed as you said, "I took a pregnancy test after you left the house this morning. Of course it was negative. I don't know why I keep getting my hopes up."

You could feel his lips and mustache in your hair as he kissed you. His voice was gentle as he said, "You need to stop doing that alone, okay? We can do it together if you miss your period. I don't want you to keep hiding what's going on from me."

You looked up at him with tear streaked cheeks. "You know you're going to get deployed again soon, right?" you asked as you hiccupped. "And then we're going to lose out on months of trying. I feel like if this doesn't happen soon, it's never going to, Bradley."

The irritation you knew must have been all over your face didn't seem to penetrate him at all. You'd been subconsciously baiting him last night while you watched the movie. Hoping for him to validate all of your inadequacies. Your mind thriving on the idea that even your husband thought you weren't good enough for him after all. 

But all he ever did was love you and encourage you. And right now, you couldn't stand that, either. Because when he said, "We have time, and we have each other," you started sobbing again in earnest.

He held you for so long, you were certain he would get in trouble with Maverick for taking an unnecessarily long lunch. "You didn't eat your sandwich," you whispered as he rubbed your back.

"I'll eat it when I walk back over," he promised. "Which I'm not going to do until you promise me you'll stop shutting me out."

You nodded at him and whispered, "I'll do better, Roo." Then you handed him one of the sandwiches and scrambled off of his lap. "You need to go before you get in trouble."

He leaned down to kiss you. "Nah, Mav's a softie for you. If I tell him I needed to spend some time with you, he's not going to care too much, Baby Girl."

"Okay," you sniffed, looking at the other sandwich. But you'd lost your appetite now. Which was fine. You were beginning to think that the weight you gained and never lost from the wedding and honeymoon could be adding to your fertility issues. You scheduled a physical with your doctor for just after your promotion banquet. Skipping a meal here and there was honestly probably a good idea. 

"I'll see you at home? Hard Deck after dinner?" Bradley asked, running his fingers along your cheek. You brought your attention back to him and nodded. 

"See you at home."

But later that night, while you were at the bar with your friends, you couldn't stop thinking about the negative test. You couldn't stop thinking about your fertility. You couldn't stop thinking about how hungry you were. 

And then you saw Cat sitting at the bar with Macy. When you caught her eye, there was barely a flash of recognition, even though you had invited her to hang out in this very establishment barely eight hours ago. 

You tried to block it all out as your stomach ached from period cramps. But after another hour, you were tugging on Bradley's hand and whispering, "Let's go home?"

He eyed you cautiously as he finished the last of his beer. "Whatever you want, Sweetheart."

Home. That's what you wanted.

------------------------

Well, they can try again next month. But I'm worried about her. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

[navybrat817]

Sweet as Cherry Pie

Pairing: Soft Dark!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve comes home with great news, but you're not as happy as you should be. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Implied smut, noncon/dubcon elements (you have been warned), gaps in memory, gaslighting, coercion, creepy vibes, Steve Rogers (yep, he's a warning and a little mean) A/N: Steve and Cherry's Intro for my Disturbia AU! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You always enjoyed baking. It gave you something to do with your hands and the hobby was both simple and challenging. It required focus for measuring and following directions, but you also had fun with your creations. It seemed to be one of the only ways you could express yourself now, which clouded your feelings when you focused too much on it.

I will not feel sorry for myself. I have a good life. The best life.

Being the wife of Steve Rogers was a dream come true. The man was handsome, loving, a hero. The all American dream wrapped up in the perfect package. He worked hard to provide you both with a lovely home and didn't ask for much in return. Only that you follow his orders and be dutiful.

A good wife obeys her husband.

You idly wiped down the counter as you waited for the oven timer to go off, glancing at one of the photos Steve placed near the window. While he smiled from ear-to-ear, yours was a little more reserved. He loved drawing and taking photos of you, but there weren’t any photos of the two of you before you moved to The Haven. They were somehow lost in the move.

Not that I remember packing any of my stuff, but my old place doesn’t matter, does it?

The sound of Steve’s motorcycle pulling into the garage pulled you from your distracted thoughts. He normally called if he was going to come home early. The sound of the door would indicate if he was back for a good or bad reason. Either way, he’d take his mood out on your body. You had to look presentable.

A good wife lives to please her husband.

You threw your apron off and rushed to your room to put on the cherry scented perfume he liked. He enjoyed it because it was seductive and sensual, sweet and tart, good enough to eat. As if on autopilot, you applied it to the same four spots: behind your ear, at the base of your neck, your wrist, and behind your knee. You retouched your lips next, staring at the tube of lipstick once you finished. It wasn't a color you wore until you moved in with him.

Steve picked it because he knows best.

When you looked at your beautiful reflection in the mirror, the urge to smash it began to surface. A flickering flame grew within you, threatening to spread like wildfire as you dropped the lipstick into the sink. There was nothing wrong with looking pretty for your husband. You just wished the person staring back at you was one you recognized.

I’m Cherry. I’m Mrs. Steve Rogers. I’m happy.

“Sweetheart?” Steve called to you before he gently shut the door. He was in a good mood at least. “Mmm. Something smells delicious.”

You straightened your dress and brushed off any negativity that bubbled under your skin as you went to greet him. Not a single blonde hair of his was out of place as he took in the sight of you. The need to impress him took over your thoughts. “Hi. Cookies are almost done,” you said, pressing your red lips to his cheek. “I didn’t expect you to come home so soon.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see my beautiful wife,” he asked as he slipped off his shoes and guided you toward the kitchen. Any excuse to touch you, he did. “Why? Are you not happy to see me?”

“I’m always happy to see you,” you said as you grabbed an oven mitt. The timer went off a second later and his eyes didn’t leave you as you carefully took the sheet out. “I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Everything’s great,” he said, inspecting the cookies as you set them on the stove. You knew it was a wonderful batch without tasting them. The perfect man, he expected perfection in every extension of him. Which is why you didn’t make mistakes with any of your baking or cooking. "I have the best news.”

"Oh? What is it?" you asked curiously.

"Bucky’s married!" he said, taking you by the waist to twirl you around. “Can you believe it?”

"Married?" you repeated, not as happy as your husband. The news should’ve excited you since Bucky was his best friend, but it confused you. "I didn't know he was seeing anyone."

"No? I swore I told you he had his eye on someone,” he said with a condescending chuckle. “Makes me think you don’t pay attention when I speak to you, but that can’t be it, right?”

You went rigid in his grasp when he smiled. It reminded you of a demon, the shades of red and darkness showing in his eyes and perfect row of teeth. “It must’ve slipped my mind. Silly me,” you tried to giggle.

Like so many other things.

You didn’t relax until he kissed the corner of your mouth. “Because you’re so busy taking care of me, which I appreciate,” he praised you, his smile softer. Kinder. “And it’s better most days when I do the thinking for you.”

You bit your tongue so hard you almost drew blood, wanting to say that you were more than just a pretty face. The words didn’t come though. “You know best, Steve” you said as you plastered a smile on your face, your voice somewhat hollow after his insult. “And I love taking care of you.”

If he noticed your lack of enthusiasm, he didn’t say so. “Back to the good news,” he said, swaying with you even though there was no music. “It was a quick engagement and they didn’t want to wait. I wish I could’ve been at the ceremony, but I had that mission and I don’t blame him one bit for not waiting.”

“I’m sure he would’ve loved for you to be his best man.”

“He would’ve, but I'm happy that he’s happy. When you know, you know,” he said, tapping the tip of your nose. “Like the moment I met you. I knew you were going to be my wife."

Your smile faltered a little. It was difficult some days to remember just how you two came to be Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. You knew you loved him, but the actual process of falling for him? The build up of the relationship? It was like there was a chapter missing.

The past is the past and I have everything I need in the present.

Steve looked at you expectantly as you blinked. You needed to focus. “Just like I knew you’d be my husband.”

He hummed, seemingly pleased with your response. "We're going to meet her soon. Will you do me a favor, please? Make her feel welcome?" He suggested, but it was more like a command. He sometimes liked to phrase things in ways that made it sound as if you had a say in the matter, but his word was law. “Bucky’s my best friend and I want you two to be best friends.”

"Of course. It’ll be nice to have a new friend.”

“And once she’s settled in, I know they’re going to start trying for a family,” he went on, placing his hand on your stomach. “Which means we can try, too. Our kids can grow up together, the way Bucky and I did. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

Steve would be the best father. He deserves a family. So does Bucky.

“So wonderful,” you whispered, afraid you’d cry if you raised your voice. You wish you knew why the thought of having children with the man you loved scared you.

“Maybe we can start practicing,” he said, his voice huskier as he gripped your hips. “A bit of dessert before dinner.”

You didn’t protest as he backed you against the counter. Your body would welcome him home the way it always did. He’d please you as you pleased him.

“And Cherry?”

“Yes, Steve?” you asked as he dipped his head to inhale your perfume.

“Make a cherry pie for me to send to Bucky’s house. I don’t think he plans on leaving anytime soon and he isn’t letting his wife leave the bed. We can’t let them go hungry now, can we?”

“No, we can’t,” you replied, closing your eyes as he pushed your dress up.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered.

Happy husband. Happy wife. Happy life.

All good in the neighborhood, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[artist-issues]

so here's something I'm curious about: God's Not Dead. The films, not the statement itself.

I first saw the first film when I was younger and I hadn't yet embarked on my journey on examining just what i was taught and what I truly believed, but I remember finding the film a little uncomfortable.

I saw the second film and Ive never watched the third, and I think what I really don't like the first film is how it bashes other people's walks of life (Muslim father, three brands of athiests, and how it continues the myth that Christians in The United States are being Persecuted for their Faith Right Now.

Oh yeah and how the plots are really really dumb too, since the first film centers around a philosophy class with a professor that is skipping a very important part of most College degrees and the second takes place in a Bible Belt State with a high school teacher answering a students question comparing Marting Luther King Jr to Jesus's Sermon on the Mount and being taken to court over it.

I was twelve or so when I saw that movie and I honestly was not convinced by the film That God's Not Dead (in terms of the actual arguments in the class scenes.

The specific Denomination that I grew up with (Adventist) focuses a LOT™ on the end times so I do know about the future persecution thing well but like, I don't think we're there yet.

Anyway if you don't know those movies, feel free to ignore this ask but I'm genuinely curious about your thoughts on them, wether positive or negative or neutral

Hi! I saw the first God’s Not Dead in theaters. Never re-watched it. Did not see the sequels.

The good thing about God’s Not Dead is that people worked hard to make something that might shine a counter-cultural light on the truth that the God of the Bible exists. Stories that try to point to truth are on the right track, baseline.

The bad thing about God’s Not Dead is that it took things that are real, and genuine, and true…and it made them feel fake. By telling the story with strange conclusions and weird-triumph moments.

The thesis of the movie, that God is not dead, is something that only non-Christians would need to be convinced of. But the movie is clearly made for Christians. So. Yeah, it’s uncomfortable.

But you shouldn’t find every experience that the movie tries to portray uncomfortable because they don’t happen. You should find it uncomfortable because they don’t happen in that cheesy, Hallmark-grade way.

When a student stands up to their professor and says, “no, I’m not going to go along with this, and this is super weird that you’re trying to draw this line about the specific Christian God,” guess what? The whole classroom doesn’t usually get up and agree with you. They normally barely react. So even though some professors do put their foot down and try to mock or “kill” God in the classroom, and some students do push back, no. It doesn’t normally happen in that victorious way.

Just like how some young Muslim converts to Christianity genuinely are treated poorly by their families, or their community, not just in America, but absolutely, certainly around the world. Absolutely, certainly. I literally can think of not one, but two examples I’ve recently heard of, directly, from people I know.

Like I said, the events and life-experiences that the first God’s Not Dead movie are based on do technically happen all the time in America, and the West, and the world in general. They just don’t normally come with crowd-agreement, impactful music, wise one-liners, and celebrity appearances. The worst thing that the God’s Not Dead movie does is show you hints of things that are real, and really happen in real life, but cheeseball way it shows you those things, and the caricatures it turns people into, makes the real thing look fake.

As far as “the myth that Christians are Persecuted Right Now in America” goes…you just have to decide what you mean by “persecuted.”

If you mean, are we getting our heads run over by cement mixers, or dragged out of our homes and imprisoned for studying or even owning a Bible, or kidnapped by hired hitmen once our families find out we’re Christians, like they are in Yemen or Africa or basically anywhere outside the West…no. No, we’re not facing persecution like that. We’re not persecuted.

But if you mean, in the context of this conversation, that “atheists and professors and people in the professional sector of our education systems don’t have a weirdly specific bone to pick with Christians,”then you’re wrong. They do. They have. For a long time.

My second semester in college, in my plain old World History class, the Professor legitimately opened his class by explaining to us students that if we wanted, he would allow us to replace our midterm and our final exams with book reports as long as we read two specific books he assigned us. One was a book about how Jesus of Nazareth was not the Messiah and the Bible was false. The other book was a fictional short novel with heavy themes criticizing specifically Christian religion. Those were the two books he picked for his students to skip taking the midterm and the final, if only they would read those two books. And those were the ones he chose.

Not only that, but literally in the first class, I remember being stunned when he flippantly opened his summary of the 18th century by saying, “If anyone ever tells you you should check out the God of the Bible, and follow him, laugh in their face. Don’t do it. He is the kind of God who likes to make His people promises and then strand them in the desert for forty years!” First class. Out the gate. Like it was a joke.

It’s not a joke. Dude just openly mocked two out of the three major world religions that people identify with across the globe. Explain to me how telling someone never to convert to a specific religion and to mock it instead is anything other than “discrimination?”

Can you imagine a Professor getting up in front of a class and saying, “if anyone ever tells you that you should check out Allah ] and follow him, convert to Islam, laugh in their face! And here’s one short novel and one historically inaccurate essay criticizing Allah and making fun of Islam; if you’ll read these, tell you what, I’ll let you skip the two most stressful exams of the semester!”

No, of course you can’t imagine that. A Professor who did that about any other religion, creed, or god would be fired or taken to court or penalized or dragged on social media, at least. But the only student in the whole room who batted an eye when he said that about the Christian God was me. The only one who said anything was me. And it wasn’t a big stand up, dramatic declaration. Momentous music didn’t play in the background. My friends and classmates didn’t’] gasp or support me or stand up and agree with me.

It was just me raising my hand and saying in a shaky voice with a red face, after the sixth time he’d randomly deviated from talking about the Roman plumbing system to describe how the Apostle Paul and the other Apostles supposedly disagreed about who Jesus was (big lie, not true at all, but often used to “discredit” the Bible) to say, “sir, that’s not true. It doesn’t make sense. There’s a verse in the Bible where the Apostle Peter literally tells the church that the Apostle Paul’s words are directly from God.” And then he was like, “okay, I’m going to move on.”

I mean I just felt kind of stupid because the whole class was confused about the interaction; nobody was treating it like it was as important as me or the professor was, so it felt awkward to “make a stand.” But rest assured, all over the freakin’ country, people are excited to use up way too much of their brain power and emotional energy mocking, disparaging, and trying to discredit the God of the Bible and Christianity. They don’t believe in Him, but they’re so he’ll-bent on making sure nobody else does either?? Like, I don’t believe in Big Foot, but I’m not walking around trying to barter my students into reading anti-Big Foot books by giving them a pass on their midterms. But that’s how lots and lots of “athiests” treat the specific Christian God.

That’s not new. It’s not dramatic. It’s not persecution. It’s alllll part of the same old song and dance.

But it is real. The worst thing about God’s Not Dead is it made it feel fake and caricature, when it happens all the time and matters 🤷‍♀️ Anyway. Hope that answered your question.

[naughtyneganjdm]

Naughty or Nice - Chapter 12

Summary: After returning home from town, Maggie tries to convince Y/N not to approach her father about the information that Beau found fearing that it will end badly.

Characters: Negan, Maggie, the reader (OC), Hershel, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51464518/chapters/134032210

Warnings: Swearing, severe angst, some smuttiness, etc.

Notes: There are only two more chapters after this one. I wanted to post this yesterday, but I fell asleep. Thank you to those that take the time to comment. It means a lot to me.

“Hey Y/N,” Maggie stepped into the kitchen a few minutes after she saw Y/N disappear from their group. When they had returned home to the farm it had started snowing again so everyone was freezing. That led to them all socializing by the fire in the living room to warm up. It seemed like everyone was taking part. Everyone, but Y/N that was. It took a while for Maggie to be able to sneak away from the group, but when she got the chance she slipped away in order to go see her younger sister. Once she caught sight of her sister, Maggie stopped and clasped her fingers together before her. Y/N was standing at one of the corners of the kitchen, her hands braced against the counter with her head dropped down. By her body language, Maggie could tell that something was going on and it wasn’t good. After hearing Maggie calling out to her, she didn’t respond much other than to raise her head and look back over her shoulder. Maybe it was because Maggie was just starting to pay attention to things, but she could see in Y/N’s features that she looked miserable. “Are you okay?”  

It genuinely looked like Y/N was so incredibly overwhelmed, “Not really, Maggie.”

Hearing that took Maggie aback. At the ice rink everything seemed alright, so to see this sudden change shocked her. Turning slowly on her heel, Y/N faced Maggie and leaned back into the corner of the cabinets. Bracing her weight on her hands, Y/N felt drained both physically and mentally after the last few days.

“What happened?” Maggie inquired, pushing her hands into her pockets suddenly feeling awkward about coming to approach her sister.

“It really doesn’t matter,” Y/N rejected her sister’s attempt at trying to start a conversation about her feelings. With what Y/N had been feeling lately, she knew that Maggie was the last person she should really be talking to. “What’s up Maggie?”

“I just wanted to come talk to you,” Maggie explained thinking back on the conversation that Negan had with her at the ice rink. It made her think about their father and she started to wonder if something happened when Maggie wasn’t around. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? Did daddy do something while we were out today?”

“I don’t think you want to hear this,” Y/N confessed to her older sister, her words drawing Maggie further into the kitchen. “I don’t think you want to take part with things when it involves our father and I’m okay with that. I know how you feel about him. I respect you enough not to involve you.”

“Listen,” Maggie started, her face draining of color when she thought of what to say next. “I know I haven’t been the best sister. I’m still making mistakes to this day and some people have brought that to my attention lately. That’s really the last thing I want to happen between the two of us. I don’t feel like daddy does about you.”

“Yeah, but he’s your hero and I know it’s hard to see that someone you love makes mistakes,” Y/N suggested with a frown. Really, she couldn’t blame Maggie. Their father went above and beyond for Maggie. Why would Maggie feel the need to think negatively of Hershel? She wouldn’t. “You should really go back with everyone else. I want to talk to dad about things and I’m trying to figure out how.”

“What about?” Maggie pushed for answers trying to make some kind of motion to clear things up between them. “I think as sisters we should learn to talk more. There are some things that I want to talk to you about tonight too. Maybe the two of us could just go upstairs together right now and we could share a night together just talking. I think we need that.”

“That sounds nice Maggie, but right now isn’t a good time. Maybe tomorrow?” Y/N offered realizing that Maggie was doing her best to try and make something happen between the two of them. “That way I can talk to dad tonight and then tomorrow we can spend time doing the things that you want. After our family’s plans of course.”

“Fine, we can do that,” Maggie shrugged her shoulders, her throat tensing up when Y/N looked back toward the things that she had on the counter. Observing the book from where she was standing, Maggie found herself interested in finding out what it was. “You’ve piqued my interest Y/N. What do you have going on?”

“You really want to know?” Y/N double checked, her hand sliding back on the counter to place it in over the book that was there. “You might not be happy with what I show you and what I have to say.”

“I’m here and I’m not leaving,” Maggie articulated with a nod, stepping in closer to Y/N. “What’s this? What’s going on?”

“I’ve been trying to think of a way to approach dad,” Y/N informed Maggie, sliding further aside pointing toward the book that was there. “I have to talk to him, but I’m not sure what to say or how to word things.”

“About what?” Maggie spoke, stepping before the withered photo booklet. Like everyone else, the burning that was done to it had caught her attention with her fingers dragging across the material. Opening up the cover, a photo of Y/N’s mother was the first thing that she had seen. Confusion flooded into Maggie’s green eyes, when she grabbed a hold of the photo to look it over. Realization started to sink in when Maggie turned the photo to look at the name that was on the back. Lifting her head, Maggie gazed between the photo and her younger sister. “This is your mother?”

“It is,” Y/N answered, her throat going dry thinking about that photo. No matter how many times she saw these photos, it took her breath away every single time. After this long of never having an image in her head of her mother she finally had one now.

“You look so much like her,” Maggie commented, sucking at her bottom lip when she set the photo down and started flipping through the pages of the photo book.

“I do,” Y/N agreed with Maggie. Both Negan and Beau confirmed that with her last night. And she had eyes. She could see it too.

Flipping through the pages, it was clear that Maggie was bewildered trying to understand what she was seeing before her, “Where did you find this?”

“Beau found it in the attic. I think he was trying to find a photo of her for me for Christmas,” Y/N recalled what Negan’s son had told her. “Our father has a hiding place upstairs in the attic under some loose floorboards.”

“Beau found this?” Maggie confirmed, pointing at one of the pages and it was like she had a hard time believing that. “How did Negan’s son find something like this in only a few days when we lived here most of our childhoods and we never found anything on your mom?”

“I don’t know?” Y/N was flustered that was how Maggie was approaching things. “I guess Beau was just lucky. It’s obviously real Maggie.”

“Oh, I agree with you,” Maggie stopped on the photo that was of her, Y/N’s mother, Hershel and Y/N as a baby. “I guess this makes sense with all the questions he was asking me about your mother. I told him that I remembered a woman that was between my mom and Annette, but I was younger. I really didn’t have a memory of much.”

“I feel like dad persuaded you to forget,” Y/N proposed the idea and it made Maggie frown. “This goes against everything he’s said Maggie. All the things he told me about my mother were fake. Why would he lie this whole time?”

“I don’t know,” Maggie huffed, stepping back and away from the book to meet Y/N’s stare that was on her. Folding her arms in front of her chest, Maggie tried to come up with something, but was lost for words. “I’m sure there is a reason why he did what he did. Daddy wouldn’t lie just to be malicious so he could treat you like shit.”

“Maggie,” Y/N frowned, pinching the bridge of her nose. Pausing, she didn’t know if she had the strength to combat her sister about their father. “I understand that you always want to think the best of dad. I get that and I can’t fault you for that, but we can’t pretend that this is okay because it’s not. I know you saw the way he always treated me, always labeling me as a mistake. Telling me that I was something he didn’t know about until it was too late, but he did. These photos show that and things aren’t adding up.”

“I hate to say this Y/N,” Maggie started, her eyes closing when she took in a sharp breath, “but who cares?”

“Who cares?” Y/N repeated, her tone breaking when Maggie’s eyes opened, but it seemed like she refused to actually look at Y/N right now. “I care. Dad’s excuse to treat me like shit my whole life was that I was his mistake. His one night stand that he should have never had. In those photos you can see that he loved my mother. That they were engaged and they were happy. Why did he lie to me? Why did he keep her from me? And why did he use his lie as an excuse to treat me the way that he did?”

“I’m not trying to sound like a bad sister here,” Maggie mouthed attempting to reach out to touch Y/N, but Y/N wouldn’t let her. It made Maggie frown seeing that her sister didn’t want to be comforted in any fashion. “I hate that everything leads back to our father. It always has.”

“What are you trying to say?” Y/N pressed her sister to keep talking and Maggie looked so uncomfortable being put on the spot.

“I just think it’s time to finally let things go,” Maggie implied, her jaw clenching when she outstretched her hands to place them over Y/N’s shoulders. If anything, that made Y/N even more emotional with tears burning at her eyes. “You and daddy have been fighting for as long as I can remember. It’s been years since whatever happened with your mother happened. Does it really matter anymore?”

“Maggie,” Y/N had to pause to try to stop herself from crying because that was really the last thing she wanted right now. “I know you don’t understand or maybe you just don’t want to think about it, but our father broke me. I almost thought of taking my own life when I was younger, it was that bad and those thoughts never left me. I thought I didn’t belong here and it’s because of dad. I felt like I was an error that was being abused because I shouldn’t have happened, but it was clearly something he knew about. And the way he has treated me has always stemmed from the lies that he told me. That he told all of us.”

“I can empathize with how you feel Y/N,” Maggie stressed, sliding her hands down over Y/N’s arms to try to comfort her in any fashion that she could. “But you escaped things and you made something of yourself. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“I do my best to hide how I have felt Maggie, but mental health doesn’t work like that. It’s not something I can just turn off,” Y/N clarified for her sister, her voice breaking when she thought about her past. “Because of the way that I was treated when I was younger, I have dad’s voice in the back of my mind. Always telling me that I don’t belong. That I’m a mistake. That I’m not worthy of the things that I have or I’m not good enough.”

“Then go to a psychiatrist Y/N,” Maggie dropped her hands down at her sides finding Y/N to be a little overwhelming at this moment. “A professional is going to be able to help you a whole lot more than approaching dad on the subject will.”

“You don’t think I’ve done that since I’ve left?” Y/N scoffed, shocked to hear her sister’s counter response. “Maggie, I’ve been in therapy since the moment I could afford it. I constantly have to fight that voice in my head to stop my thoughts from swallowing me whole. The fact that I even was able to make something of myself in an industry that is so hard on women and so heavily focused on other’s critiques is even a surprise in itself.”

“It shows that you are stronger than you think,” Maggie urged her to realize the positives. “Can’t you see the good in it? You are stronger than most people because you did all of that with all of this weighing on your shoulders. It’s Christmas Y/N, why do you want to have this conversation with daddy before Christmas?”

“I’m leaving the day after Christmas Maggie,” Y/N reminded Maggie of her plans that she had already made. “I think I deserve some answers. Some kind of explanation of why he hid things from me and put together this elaborate lie instead of being honest.”

“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve,” Maggie continued on with what she was saying previously. “Let the family have a good holiday and then the two of you can talk things out.”  

Instead of saying anything, Y/N looked away from Maggie and swallowed down hard. It was hard hearing these things from Maggie, but she wasn’t about to fight with her, “I’m not saying this to upset you Y/N. I’m just being honest. We both know daddy enough to know that it’s not going to go well. We know how he is. Why put yourself through that and ruin your holiday?”

“Because it’s all I can think about,” she reasoned with Maggie, still keeping her head down because she was having a hard time talking about this in general. “I just don’t understand it and I think I deserve some answers.”

“It’s already hard enough,” Maggie conceded trying to reach for Y/N’s hands to hold them, but she was frozen against Maggie’s touch. “It’s just going to start a fight. The two of you are going to get angry with one another. Let’s try to make it through the holiday without having things explode on us. Okay?”

Silence followed. How was Y/N supposed to respond to that?

“Tonight has kind of been…extreme for me, so please just come upstairs with me and talk to me?” Maggie implored trying to reach out to her sister. Squeezing her fingers tightly around Y/N’s had Maggie tipping her head down trying to get Y/N’s eyes to meet hers. “I’ve wanted to talk to you about some things and I think after the night I’ve had today, I think we need to talk. I know it sounds greedy, I know that it’s bad, but I really could use my sister. So could we please hold this off and wait until after the holiday?”

“Hold what off?” Hershel’s voice surprised the both of them when he walked into the kitchen to hear the tail end of their discussion. He stepped into the corner, his arms folding out in front of his chest when Maggie looked between the two of them. “Everyone headed upstairs to bed. I figured I would let the two of you know.”

“That’s good to know,” Maggie thought aloud her expression almost begging Y/N to let things go. “Let’s go upstairs together. You can come in my room so we can talk for a while and then you can go to bed. Some sleep might be good for us. Don’t you think? Give us time to let things linger and we can decide if it’s really the best decision.”

Turning away from Maggie, Y/N closed the photo book and covered it with her jacket to hide it from their father. Considering what Maggie asked of her, Y/N was careful in the way that she picked the book up and held it close to her body.

“What’s going on?” Hershel picked up on the tension between them, but neither Maggie nor Y/N was quick to answer. “Maggie?”

“It’s nothing,” Maggie exclaimed trying to put a barrier between Hershel and Y/N. When Y/N turned on her heel, Maggie extended her hand and motioned down to it hoping that Y/N would take it. “Come on honey. Join me upstairs and then we can have a girl’s night together. I need to talk to you. Really bad. I need you.”

“Maggie,” Y/N felt a lump growing in her throat when she looked to Maggie’s hand and then their father. Guilt was eating away at her knowing that Maggie was desperate to have her forget everything. “I’m sorry Maggie, I just really need to talk to him.”

“Go upstairs Maggie,” Hershel motioned for his older daughter to go ahead with everyone else upstairs. “If she wants to talk to me, we’ll talk. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’m sorry daddy, but this is more important to me,” Maggie grumbled under her breath refusing to lower her hand. Tears were actually burning at Y/N’s eyes and forming at the corners of them, but Maggie was trying to pull out everything to avoid this confrontation between them. “Come on.”

Extending her hand out, Y/N accepted Maggie’s hand and gave her a nod. A sigh of relief filled the air when Maggie lowered their hands and led Y/N toward the door. Instead of picking herself, Y/N picked Maggie after hearing her pleas. Making it out of the kitchen, Maggie gasped when Hershel put his hand up between the two of them against the doorframe to stop Y/N from leaving with her.

“Please daddy, just let it go,” Maggie begged of her father, her green eyes pleading with Hershel in this moment. “For me.”

“Goodnight Maggie,” Hershel ignored Maggie’s request, his throat tensing with Y/N standing before him with her eyes locked on his.

“Please move your arm,” Y/N was quiet, doing her best to follow through with what Maggie asked of her. “I’d like to go up with Maggie. We can talk another day.”

Shaking his head, Hershel slid his hand down further making it damn near impossible for her to leave, “I said go to bed Maggie.”

“Daddy,” Maggie breathed out catching the glare that Hershel gave her when she kept trying to stop this from happening. Finally releasing Y/N’s hand had Maggie frowning, her eyes glancing to Y/N who looked mentally defeated already. Sadness flooded Maggie’s features before she gave a small nod and finally headed up the stairs leaving the two of them alone.

Being trapped in the kitchen with Hershel was already intimidating with how he had done what he just did, “By the look on your face I can only imagine the kind of conversation the two of us are going to be having right now. What is it now? I’ve left you alone all day. We all just had a nice time out with our family. Today was a good day. So what could you possibly be this miserable about?”

“Don’t worry about it dad,” Y/N encouraged her father to let things go. “Maggie asked something of me, so I’m just going to head to bed. I hope you have a good night.”

“No, that’s not going to work with me,” Hershel stated firmly, keeping his hand in place to block her from leaving. “There is something that you want to talk about so why don’t you just say it. Go ahead Y/N.”

“Fine, I just wanted to talk to you about my mother,” Y/N whispered, finally locking eyes with Hershel who tipped his head to the side. Instead of just jumping right in, she figured she would give Hershel the chance to change things around for her. “I was thinking with it being Christmas time, maybe you could talk to me about her.”

“What is there to talk about?” Hershel finally lowered his arm and shoved his hands into his pockets. Disappointed, Y/N sighed and forced herself to look away from Hershel. “We’ve talked about your mother extensively. There isn’t much to say Y/N. It was a moment of vulnerability that I had, I made a mistake, I wasn’t thinking. That’s it.”

“That’s what you always told me,” Y/N accepted that it was always his answer, but she wasn’t okay with it. A broken breath fell from her parted lips and she weakly smiled. “I was your biggest mistake. The thing that you never wanted. And you let me know it over and over again.”

“You have a very different recognition of things young lady,” Hershel defended, his expression showing that he was angry. It was very quiet downstairs and she knew it was just the two of them alone. “I cared for you. You had a roof over your head. You were given things. You didn’t suffer. You didn’t starve. You weren’t out on the streets. You were pampered. And you were always too greedy to realize that. This depression that you’ve come up with over the years to villainize me is something else.”

“You’re right. You did keep me alive,” she agreed with Hershel, her throat feeling like it was about to close up with how upset she was. “It was the things that you said dad. How you were with me compared to Maggie and Beth hurt. You always told me that I was the one that you never wanted. The one that got thrown on you. Any time I upset you or didn’t do what you wanted, I was reminded that I was the problem. I still have memories of being a child and hurting myself. The only person that ever cared for me was Annette. You always coddled Beth and Maggie, but with me you always snubbed me.”

“What do you want me to say?” Hershel queried, throwing his hand up when she finally broke and tears started sliding down her face. “You were a mistake Y/N, but when you were brought to me, I took you in. I took care of you and I gave you a life. You’ve been nothing but a gigantic problem your whole life. It was always something with you. You gave up the tournaments with the horses. You were so stubborn and disrespectful. And it never changed.”

“Do you wish I never happened? Since it makes you look bad having a daughter with a one-night stand?” Y/N wondered feeling her heart hammering inside of her chest. Hershel’s face grew red and he exhaled loudly. “You always let me know that I was the one that didn’t belong because you never had a connection with my mother.”

“Do you know why I prefer Beth and Maggie?” Hershel avoided her question, his jaw clenching when he leaned further back against the wall to brace himself. Nothing came from his middle daughter and Hershel shrugged his shoulders. “Because they are better than you. They listen. They aren’t quitters. They don’t make me out to be some villain because I didn’t love them the way that they wanted.”

“Because you always let them know they were loved,” she bickered, her voice breaking when she clung tighter to her things. It was one thing to think it, but another to hear it from him that he thought Maggie and Beth were better than her. “Maggie and Beth never had to go to bed at night wondering if their existence was a mistake. I deserved just as much love as Maggie did. I understand that she is your favorite. She often is everyone’s favorite because…”

“Because she’s better,” Hershel interrupted her causing her words to come to an immediate stop. “Everyone sees it. So what if you have a better job? You aren’t happy, are you? Did you find that happiness that you were looking for when you left here Y/N? Since you were going to harm yourself if you didn’t find that found family?”

Hearing her father mocking her had her body trembling at how awful he was actually being to her about things.

“Honey, everyone always liked Maggie better because she was a good girl. She didn’t hide herself away from everyone,” Hershel lectured Y/N throwing his hand up in the direction of the second floor. “Maggie found herself a man that while I’m not his biggest fan has two children. He has a solid job. You’re engaged to a pizza delivery boy. One that in my opinion seems to be fonder of Maggie too.”

“What?” she half laughed her voice becoming raspy at what Hershel was throwing on her. “What’s wrong with Glenn being a pizza delivery boy? A job is a job dad. That doesn’t determine something good or bad about me.”

“I don’t think you are understanding here honey,” Hershel countered with a shake of his head. “You’re the problem. You blame me. You blame your family, but you’re missing that you are the problem. Not me. If it was me, you would have found happiness by now. Instead you’re engaged to someone who is nothing. Someone who doesn’t even connect with you on a mental level.”  

“Okay,” Y/N slurred out, the tears burning at her eyes hearing her father dig everything in further. “Do you ever blame yourself for anything? For lying to me? For creating a story that wasn’t true?”

“Lying to you?” Hershel snorted, his head tipping to the side. “So now I’m not only an abuser, but I’m also a liar? You sure do have a lot of nerve to accuse…” Hershel’s words came to a stop when Y/N pulled her jacket away from the photo book that Beau had found. When his eyes fell upon it, his words came to a stop and he let out a shuddering breath. “Where did you find that?”

Stepping back and away from Hershel, she flipped to the page where her mother was pregnant and a younger version of her father had his hand placed over her mother’s pregnant belly, “I don’t know dad, it looks like you kind of knew my mother all along. And you actually look happy here…”

“Give me that,” Hershel demanded and she shook her head, flipping to the photo that was at the end of the book. “You have no business looking at that.”

“You know, my mother looks really good for the walking dead,” Y/N mocked her father since he had told her that she had died in childbirth and he had nothing to do with her. “Why did you lie to me? Why did you treat me the way you did when you weren’t even telling the truth? You look happy in these photos. You look like you loved my mother and you actually loved me. What went wrong dad? Why is it when my mother died you decided to honor her by treating me like the outcast? Do you think she would be happy with the way that you’ve treated me?”

“Give me that,” Hershel repeated what he said earlier. Closing the book, she placed it under her arm and denied his request. “You have no right to that.”

“I have every right to this and I always did,” Y/N asserted, clinging tightly to the material. “You tried to erase my mother and you did. You created a horrible story to hide something that was obviously beautiful and I think I deserve an answer.”

“You deserve nothing,” Hershel snapped at her, his tone getting angrier when he stepped in closer to her. “I owe you nothing,”

“I shouldn’t have found out about this from Negan’s son finding it in the attic,” Y/N declared, her own voice raising while they fought with one another. “It should have been you telling me about my past. It should have been you telling me about my mother. It should have been you…I deserved to be just as loved as Beth and Maggie because you clearly loved my mother too.”

Hershel’s face was red, his eyes tearing over almost hinting that he was getting upset with having to hold back on everything, “I deserve answers.”

“I want you out tomorrow morning,” Hershel whispered, his fists clenching at his sides when he gazed to the book that was in her hand. “I don’t want you here. I never did. You can take that book and you can take that boy with you for all I care.”

“I’m not leaving until…” she began only to have Hershel step before her in attempts to be intimidating.

“You’re leaving tomorrow. I want nothing to do with you,” Hershel was seething, his tears burning at his eyes. “I want you gone. I don’t want you here for Christmas. I didn’t want you back in the first place. You get your things and you leave. Do you understand me? I never want to see you again. You’ve ruined Christmas. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“I hear you. Loud and clear,” she whispered behind tears herself, nodding her head slowly. “I’ll give you exactly what you want Hershel,” she looked down toward the ground licking her lips while she tried to keep herself calm. At this point he didn’t deserve to have her call him dad. “I’ll be gone by afternoon tomorrow. And you can burn everything that has me in your life too. Heaven knows you want to. This mistake will correct itself. I’m sorry I disappointed you so much.”

Heading for the stairs she could hear Hershel standing at the entrance of the kitchen to watch her going upstairs and she let out a shuddering breath, “All I ever wanted was for you to love me, but you decided long before I was even capable of understanding things that you never would.”

That was the last thing she was going to say to her father. Getting up the stairs, instead of heading for her room she immediately went upstairs to Negan’s room, locking the door behind her once she made it to the stairs. Climbing up them, she stopped when she saw that Negan was sitting at the center of the bed in just a pair of pajama pants. He was wearing his thick, black framed glasses while he was reading something.

Dropping the things in her hands made Negan’s head raise from the book that he was reading. Kicking out of her boots, she tugged her shirt from her body and then pushed at her pants to get them down her legs. All she could think about was her father stressing that Maggie was better than her and everyone thought it. How her father hated her and made her feel like less than human.

“Hey,” Negan set his book aside, worry flooding his hazel eyes when she got on her knees on the bed. Crawling in over him surprised him and he immediately lifted his hand to stroke over the side of her face. Sweeping at the tears that were there took her breath away and she could see that he was worried about her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Instead of saying anything, she immediately brought her lips to his to silence him, her hands working open the tie in his pajama pants. Her kisses were rough, but it was obvious that Negan could taste the lingering of her tears over her lips when he tried to get her to look at him, “Hey. Y/N. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Please Negan,” she begged against his lips, dipping her hand inside of his pants to pull out the root to his masculinity, stroking her fingers over it. Negan was soft against her touch and she was working to change that. “I need this. I need this really bad right now.”

“Listen…” Negan’s eyes rolled back, his lips parting when she moved further in over him and started pressing wet kisses over the side of his neck. God, he was doing his best to fight her off, but he was having a hard time with it with how aggressive she was being. “We shouldn’t do things like this when you are upset. I would rather just talk to you…”

“I need this Negan,” she insisted, her lips hovering in over his after he tipped his head back to look at her. Adjusting her positioning over him had his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “I don’t think I’ve needed this more.”

“I just…” Negan huffed when she forcefully moved in over him to hook her fingers from her left hand into his hair while her right reached down to push her panties aside. Grunting, Negan felt her lowering down over his semi-erect manhood, his hands clasping tightly to her hips. With her arms hooked around his shoulders, she was using her balance over him to roll her hips over his length working to make him completely solid inside of her. Pressing his forehead to her chest, Negan moaned out while she had her way with him knowing that she was being rough. The headboard was smacking up against the wall with the movements she made over him and he was having a hard time being quiet. “People will hear.”

“Let them,” she didn’t have a care in the world while she bounced herself over him using the best of her strength that she could build up. Uncontrollable moans fell from Negan’s throat, his hands caressing up over the lengths of her body. With Negan inside of her, she had that full, stretching feeling that helped distract her and it was better than the pain.

When she took him completely inside of her and stayed still over him for an extended amount of time before moving again, he knew that it felt too detached for him. “Y/N…please…”

Shakily, Negan’s hands lifted to cup her face in his palms in order to get her to look at him, “Talk to me. Please.”

Finally, her movements stopped and he was able to get her eyes to connect with his, “What’s going on?”

“I’m getting kicked out of the house. I have to leave tomorrow morning,” she explained to Negan with him sweeping away at the tears that still lingered over her face. Attempting to move her hips, Negan shook his head and kept her in place over him so she could continue opening up to him. “Hershel wants me gone after I brought up that book to him, so I’m leaving. I got no explanation from him. He told me during our discussion that Maggie was better than me in every way. That you felt it. Glenn did. Everyone,” she took in a sharp breath, her head lowering to rest against his. “Please Negan, I need this. I just need to feel like I’m special. That I mean something to someone…”

“This is not the way,” Negan shook his head, curling his arm around her waist to carefully lower her down at the center of the bed. Shakily moving in over her, Negan did his best to make her feel comfortable before starting to carefully roll his hips to make love to her. What she was doing before felt more like she was trying to punish herself as opposed to actually allowing herself to feel loved. Peppering kisses over her lips, Negan kept their eyes connected while he thrust over her and hovered his lips over hers. “He’s wrong. You are perfect. You are everything to me and he doesn’t deserve you.”

Lowering down over her, Negan’s fingers hooked with hers as he held them to the bed and squeezed tightly at them. If she wanted to be intimate with him, he was going to make sure that he was going to make love to her like she deserved right now. Not have some quick romp that would be rough and would ultimately leave her feeling empty in the end.

“I love you so much,” Negan repeated what he knew to be true, his kisses trailing down over her jawline while she stroked her fingers through his dark hair. “We’ll all leave tomorrow. Together. Because that’s where I’m meant to be. With you.”

What really made this moment stand out was his praising and the way he spoke to her. That’s what she needed right now. To be proven to that he loved her. That beyond all else, they were meant to be together. That she was it for him and not Maggie.

This wasn’t a moment focused on pleasure for them. No, it was more so a moment to share their love with one another. To connect and bond further than they already had. What she needed to hear, Negan said. Even when they finished, she just wanted to be held by him. To be close to him.

“You are the only place I feel like I belong,” she whispered with him laying over her, her fingers caressing at the back of his neck with him cuddled up to her. Chills flooded her body with Negan panting against the side of her neck. Leaving frequent kisses over her flesh left her feeling pampered and cherished. “I should have left with you and your family from the start.”

“You’ll be with us,” Negan tipped his head far back enough to give her a small nod while he swept his thumb in over her bottom lip. Negan’s hair was damp with it in his face and she found herself in awe with the way that he looked. “Your father did you a favor because now he’s made it easy for you to erase him from your life. You don’t need that toxicity in your life. You’ll never have to feel this way again. Do you understand?”

Pressing his forehead to hers, Negan took a minute before peppering faint kisses over her face toward her lips, “In the morning we will all pack and we’ll go back to my place. We’ll have Christmas together. Then first thing after Christmas, I’ll go get you a ring. We’ll get married on New Years. Have our baby…”

“Negan,” she whimpered with Negan stroking the back of his hand over her abdomen. “I don’t know if I should be a parent. The way that I was treated, I don’t want to be my father.”

“You never would be,” Negan hushed her with all the love in his eyes. “Look how you are with Beau and Erin. They love you and you are so good with them. You’ll be the best mother. And we will all love you. You will make your family with us and you will be loved the way you were always meant to be.”

“Do you think we will be able to get out easy in the morning?” she wondered knowing there was so much that had to be done with Maggie and Glenn. “Maggie and Glenn should…”

“Maggie and I broke up tonight,” Negan informed her, causing her to let out a surprised exhale. Pointing toward the discoloration over his face made Y/N let out a tense breath. “That’s why my nose is hurt. She punched me. I told her that I was in love with someone else. We both agreed it was better to go our separate ways. I’m already done.”

“Does she know that it’s me?” she was shocked to hear that Negan was already broken up with her older sister.

“No, I didn’t think I had to tell her that part yet,” Negan thought back to his discussion with Maggie. “She already punched me in the nose, I thought if I told her who it was, she would fucking destroy me. This way tomorrow morning she doesn’t have much time to respond before we leave, but at least she will know.”

“How did that happen?” Y/N wanted to know the details, brushing her fingers into Negan’s wet hair to sweep it back over his ear.

“Maggie was acting really weird the last two days,” Negan answered her knowing that Beau told him he needed to be completely honest with her about everything. It scared him. Especially with how Y/N was feeling, but he had to be straight forward. “Last night when you were with Beau, she came in here and I thought it was you. She tried giving me a blowjob, but I immediately knew that it wasn’t you and I stopped her…”

“She what?” she pushed into Negan’s chest, watching his head immediately shake “Negan?”

“Nothing much happened. I immediately stopped her when she started to give me one. It was dark, she crawled up under the covers and I thought it was you. Once she started doing it, I knew it wasn’t you and I stopped her. We fought because she wanted to have sex with me and I wouldn’t. That’s when Hershel showed up to rip me a new one thinking we were trying to get intimate. Then today she tried again. She’s never been this desperate to try to sleep with me and then I found out the reason she was doing that is because she cheated on me with someone else,” Negan let his words almost mesh together with how fast he was explaining what happened with Maggie. Hearing all this only seemed to upset Y/N, but he needed her to know so they could be clear with things. “You’re it for me Y/N, so when she admitted things to me today about cheating I immediately let her know that I was in love with someone else. That I belonged with someone else.”

Even after he explained things, she didn’t seem entirely comfortable, but Negan shook his head, “Listen to me. Everything is going to be okay. We’ll take tonight and then we will leave in the morning and we can start our life together.”

“That’s exactly how it went down with Maggie?” she confirmed with Negan, faintly skimming her fingertips over the discolored flesh under his eyes.

“Exactly. I was smacked today and punched,” Negan snickered, his lips claiming hers in small kisses that still managed to take her breath away. “Your sister has some aggression issues when she gets upset. As much as I liked her, she beat the shit out of me. A lot. This wasn’t the first time she had done it. I hope whoever she wants to be with can handle her because she’s kind of abusive.”

“You poor thing,” she whispered, tracing her fingers down over the side of his face and it had Negan leaning into her touch. “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.”

“It’s worth it to be with you,” Negan slurred, cuddling in closer to her wanting to keep that connection between the two of them.

Getting comfortable beneath Negan, she looked between them knowing that he was still inside of her going soft and it made her eyes come to a tight close. With Negan now being broken up with Maggie, to the promise of a happy life along with them trying for their baby, Y/N knew that this was the life she genuinely wanted.

“I love you so fucking much,” Negan declared, his hazel eyes locking with hers while he palmed in over the side of her face in a loving, tender sweep. “I hope you know that. You mean everything to me.”

Pulling Negan back into her arms, she held him close and kissed at the side of his neck. That was something she really hoped was true. It was just after everything she experienced with her father, it was hard to actually believe those words because she wondered if she was even deserving of something like that.

“Sometimes I think you and your children are too good for me,” she whispered, her fingers stroking through his dark hair. “That I don’t deserve this…that I don’t deserve you…”

“And that’s just your fears talking,” Negan hushed her, leaning back far enough to stare into her eyes again. “Because if anything, I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you. I’m not perfect Y/N. I’ve never been perfect. So please don’t think like that.”

“What if you were meant to be with Maggie, but I ruined that?” she wondered and it made Negan scoff. With a shake of his head, Negan nuzzled his nose in against hers but then winced realizing that it still hurt. “It’s a possibility Negan.”

“It’s not. It’s really not,” Negan denied, hating that these were things she was starting to believe because of the ideas that her family filled her with. Coaxing her to look at him and stay connected with him, Negan frowned. “Maggie was not someone that I could see myself having a future with. When I’m with you, all I can think about is our future and all the possibilities.”

Tears burned at her eyes and it broke his heart to see her this way. Lowering down, he immediately started pressing loving kisses over her face, “I don’t think you know how much I truly love you.”

“I can only imagine,” Negan slurred, his fingers lowering to capture her hand in his. Giving it a tight squeeze, he shrugged his shoulders. “But considering how I feel about you? If it’s half as much as I love you, then I know it’s a lot.”

“Why do you love me?” she was confused about all of this and the way that Negan felt toward her.

“I could talk to you all night about all the reasons that I love you,” Negan vowed, a smirk tugging at his lips when he thought about her. “When you are this in love with someone, everything about them appeals to you. I can’t think of something I dislike.”

“All I can think about myself is all of the things that I do hate about me,” she opened up to Negan, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to hug him tightly to her. Peppering tiny kisses against his freckle covered shoulders had him sighing.

“That’s because of the environment you are in. Once we get you out of here, you will thrive and shine,” Negan promised, his lips finding their way to hers again so he could kiss her passionately. “And if you don’t? I’ll be there to help you through every step. Because I love you. And you’ll never be alone. Not with me.”

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams  @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune​ @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes​ @tone-stark @lanadelnegan @flippittygibbitts @stickyhuesos @dilfsandmartinis

[strangeshoepatrolbandit]

Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Summary: Jason ends up at your apartment needing kisses.

Warnings: slightly suggestive, and a lot of kisses.

(Short story)

~☆~

The sound of a window opening could be heard from your living room, it should've alerted you but it didn't, at least not anymore. A year into dating Jason and experiencing his regular visits to your apartment you've become used to it. Jason knows he shouldn't climb into your home whilst he was dressed as Red Hood, as it could draw negative attention, and leave you in danger, however, the once dead now alive man doesn't think about that while he jumps around Gotham to you, the desire to be with you too strong, it clouds his mind until he snaps out of his daze as he's already standing in your apartment.

You can hear Red Hood's footsteps hitting against the floors as he walks toward you, normally someone would never be able to hear him, he was trained by Batman, he knew how to be invisible, but with you he was just a man. Jason had walked up behind you, shoving his face into your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist, from what you could tell his mask had been removed. He watched as you cut vegetables for the food you were making, something he'd never know was that you were making more portions than needed just for him. The man behind you let out a sigh and lifted his head to place a kiss against the back of your own, before unraveling himself from you. You set down the knife you were holding to turn and face Jason, he was now leaning against the counter next to you with his arms crossed, and a playful smirk on his lips. Your eyes raked over his body trying to find any wounds on him, fortunately he looked perfectly fine, your gaze went back to his face where his domino mask rested.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." Jason laughed out, his own eyes raking down your body as his laughter died down.

"You should take your own advice." You said, a smile stretching wide on your lips. Jason uncrossed his arms and reached out for your wrist, your hips hit against each others as he pulled you into himself, his hand unclasped your wrist and moved to rest on your hips that were against his own.

"Hey." He whispered, giving you a smirk and staring into your eyes.

"Hi." You whispered back, leaning your head into his, your noses grazing against each others. Jason met you in the middle, putting his lips onto your own, his hands gripped your hips harder as you kissed back, your own hands went up to grasp his biceps. One of his hands flew up to your cheeks as he deepend the kiss, his throat let out a noise as he did so, the other hand went to your waist.

You broke the kiss as he attempted to pull you in closer than you already were, a smile stretched on your face as his lips chased your own.

"C'mon I missed you." He whined trying to kiss you again, only for you to pull back and let out a breathy laugh.

"You see me everyday." You teased, before remembering the food you were just cooking, and turning the burner of your stove down. Jason held your waist whenever you rotate back to him, the two of you just stared at each other before he reached a hand up to brush some hair behind your ear.

Jason leaned in pressing a small kiss to your lips, his hand now resting in your hair, his eyes went back to your own, and another smile stretched against his lips as he leaned in yet again, only for you to pull away.

"You're working." You whispered, nose pressed against his own before he pressed a kiss to your chin.

"It's a slow night." He whispered back, this time he leaned in to leave a kiss on your neck, only you pushed on his chest and laughed.

"No, you have to go." You stated, laughing even more when he actually got to your neck, leaving playful bites every once and a while. Jason himself let out a laugh as he looked at you again before leaving another peck to your lips, you pushed yourself from him as a way for him to get moving, Jason however just continued to slump against the counter.

"C'mon handsome, Gotham needs Red Hood." You giggled, returning back to in front of him, and placing your hands back onto his biceps. Jason however just stared at you, you leaned forward to kiss him, one that he just sat there for, seconds after you pulled away he moved from the counter and started walking back to the living room. You placed a quick pat to his butt and followed him, he reached over the couch and grabbed his mask, then continued walking, ending up in front of the window he came in from before stopping.

"Y'know I think I need another kiss." He confessed, turning to look at you with a playful smile on his face, your own smile stretched even wider, before walking across the room to be in front of him. You reached your hands up to rest around his neck, and his own went back to your hips, drawing circles into them. You leaned forward first, placing your lips onto his for a kiss, which he happily reciprocated. The two of you stood there until an abrupt honk from below your apartment window alerted you, you both broke apart with a laugh, Jason leaned forward again to leave one last peck on your lips before putting on his mask. The man opened the window before turning back to you to say one last thing "I'll see you tonight.", which of course meant he'll see you early in the morning, you nodded and he slipped out. You stood there smiling to yourself before walking forward and shutting the window.

I would never push him away....hope you enjoyed.<3 (also I know there is probably spelling errors)

[oshiawaseni]

So.. I've seen a lot of people that saying Katsuki died while thinking of İzuku. I've even seen some people saying that Katsuki did not care what AFO said about he can never be more than İzuku. But when I read those chapters it seemed like he was thinking about how he can never surpass him like he always wanted to, rather than thinking about İzuku himself. When he realized he will die anyways, he desperately accepted the fact that he can never reach İzuku's level. And he accepted his admiration for him, knowing that he will always be superior than him, by his actions (thinking of how he made his movements and attacks etc.). So it felt like he STİLL puts his desire of 'becoming the best' above everything, it seemed like he died with that thoughts. I couldn't see any confirmation of him realizing some feelings for him.

Soo I would really like to know your oppinion about this. Do you have any counter evidence for this? I really wanna hear your thoughts ASAP. <3

Hello everyone! In this meta, I'll explain why the feelings Katsuki realises are romantic in chapter 362 and how bakudeku's relationship arc is intertwined with Katsuki's character development and provide anon evidence that supports this.

Anon: I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt here, that you genuinely need answers... so yes! I have a lot of points to make which I will now present to you! I think the problem you're struggling with is not identifying that Katsuki's character development has always been tied to his relationship with (and feelings for) Izuku.

My writer friend introduced me to literary concepts like internal and external relationship arcs that develop alongside a character's growth. Internal arcs involve emotions and relationships between the characters, while external arcs are influences on their relationship by outside forces, pushing them together or pulling them apart.

While character development arcs are about personal conflicts, both internal and external. In BNHA, these conflicts shape a character's quirk progress, understanding of heroism, motivations for performing well, and provide external obstacles which hinder them.

Katsuki's character arc is intrinsically tied to his relationship with Izuku. Overcoming his internal conflict of not recognizing "save to win" and addressing the source of this conflict, his lifelong issues with Izuku, were essential in his path to become a top hero. DvK2 served as both an outlet for Katsuki's negative emotions, and as an event that brought bkdk's relationship closer together by having Katsuki join in on their OFA secret. Their conversation with All Might also propels Katsuki's character development in the months after it.

So, anyway, as your ask suggests, Katsuki's "character arc" had always been about becoming the #1 top hero. Not being left in Izuku's, or ANYONE'S dust. Katsuki learning the qualities he was lacking to get to that point. Etc Etc.

However! As he thinks about Izuku's burdens, draws in closer to him, and they spend more time together, we see his character change into a more giving, caring person and he gradually overcomes his personal conflicts, with Izuku acting as his heart's north star.

An example of his change comes in chapter 358. Katsuki is thinking of his teacher and friends doing their part and that he now had to do his. Then he thinks of Izuku saving him from the slime villain and says something to sAFO that proves he is NOT the same character he was at the start of the manga: "Big disparities? Lack of understanding? Dread? I've long since been acquainted with all of this." I feel he is talking about his relationship with Izuku and his fear based emotions he has had (and still has) with him.

It was made clear that Katsuki's need to "stay ahead" is another one of his internal conflicts that's DIRECTLY TIED to his relationship with Izuku in chapter 275, when we see his thoughts about how he can barely keep up with Izuku, and that he won't be left behind.

He says he won't lose and he won't "let himself stay losing." Note that this isn't even about winning anymore. It's about not falling behind Izuku. The reason we know his desires to stay ahead were tied to his feelings for Izuku is because of the scene coupled together with it: his flash back of Izuku trailing behind him when they were kids.

The impression this left on me was that Katsuki had ALREADY swallowed his pride and selfish reasons to be his best self because his feelings towards Izuku had once again changed his priorities as a hero. In chapter 275, we see his ambitions had shifted from being ahead, to just being able to keep up enough to stay by Izuku's side. (and I'll talk more about this later.)

By linking their childhood memory to his feelings of "being left behind," Hori was telling us the only reason Katsuki ever wanted to stay ahead of Izuku to begin with, was so he would never have to see the day Izuku left him behind, leaving Katsuki ALONE. I don't know about you, but this seems like the setup of a romantic plot to me.

My feeling with this is that Katsuki has always loved Izuku and needed him in his life. But he buried those feelings deep inside himself and they hit him like a damn TRUCK after he realised how bad he had messed everything up that day in the river and everything he'd done to Izuku after it. That's why the volume 29 cover is what it is for the Katsuki Rising content. The image is full of love and acceptance, but also... regret.

To someone who doesn't understand that Katsuki's internal relationship with Izuku is interwoven into his character arc, I understand his feelings presented at his death may seem self-centred and platonic to you. But it just isn't true. Katsuki's character development and relationship development with Izuku are ABSOLUTELY linked together and always have been.

//anger//

At first Katsuki is angry at Izuku because of his misunderstandings and Izuku always having been the one person who didn't make him feel like he's the best. To Katsuki, who grew up in a quirk worshipping society, being a hero only meant possessing a strong quirk and the ability to defeat anyone and win. However, from an early age he recognised that Izuku had qualities that he didn't fully understand but knew he lacked. Izuku tries to save him, despite Katsuki being physically stronger than Izuku, and this just causes him to double down on his belief of winning at all costs. (Ironic that the event which made Katsuki feel hate towards Izuku, ultimately caused Izuku to love him even more.)

And as soon as he gets into U.A, his entire world view of himself is shattered as he suffers humiliating defeat after humiliating defeat; Losing his first proper fight against Izuku, not getting the fair battle with Todoroki he wanted so he could have a true victory against Izuku (because to Katsuki, beating the same Todoroki that beat Izuku equates to beating Izuku), being kidnapped, feeling responsible for ending AM's career, failing his provisional license exam... And as Katsuki watches Izuku get stronger and stronger, and further away from him, it makes him hate everything even more until the day he's had enough and grabs Izuku and lets it all explode out of him.

//guilt//

Then after DvK2, he realises he's deeply misjudged Izuku and he starts to feel guilty for everything he has ever done to him, and for what? Because he couldn't see his own weaknesses. He is told by All Might to recognise Izuku's strengths. So that's what he does and what does he say when he finally learns the importance of saving people, taken straight from the heart of the person closest to him who exemplifies this quality? "Just keep your eyes on me, shitty Deku." But his guilt towards Izuku sets off his atonement arc, and his rising concern for Izuku's cursed fate brings them together.

After witnessing Izuku hurt himself multiple times throughout their first year of high school and long before by his own hands, Katsuki's guilt reaches its peak when they both confront Shigaraki. As he's watching how badly Izuku will hurt himself to win, he recalls Izuku's words about being the 'Deku who always tries his best,' and Katsuki realises that Izuku had been overcompensating for being quirkless his whole life.

He understands that this may have been largely his fault and truly gets the impact of the horrible name he gave Izuku when they were kids. 'Deku' taken from 'deku no bou,' which is a doll without arms and legs and carries the meaning of "a useless person."

He remembers his conversation with All Might, who told him "he would be able to talk about it with Izuku one day" and when he sees his history with Izuku flash before his eyes, he knew that one day was never gonna come unless he did something! So he did something. He had a quirk awakening and saved Izuku's life at a cost to himself, fully embracing what it means to be a true hero. But not just any hero, Izuku's hero.

//acceptance//

Then his character reaches a point of understanding and acceptance of his feelings. He can no longer put up resistance to his relationship with Izuku anymore, and Izuku's absence causes Katsuki to realise he needs Izuku in his life, to be closer, and by his side. He accepts Izuku for all of his weaknesses and embraces him. He's also accepted how important it is to rely on others, and also be there for them in turn and teaches these things again, back to Izuku, quietly asking Izuku to lean on him if he needs help. He wants to be there for him.

So after his character arcs of hate, guilt, acceptance, all of which are tied to his feelings for Izuku, what naturally comes last for them?

//love//

Love, and Katsuki's acceptance of what is in his heart at his very end, in chapter 362. Because those are his feelings for Izuku now. A deep, powerful love that fills his heart completely.

And what I realised after talking about this with my friend, was that people who don't think bkdk will be romantic will only see what they want to see. That depending on their depth of understanding of their relationship, people are going to see Katsuki's actions and words as either part of his character arc to be #1, or as one massive leap in his relationship arc/feelings towards Izuku. Hori probably wrote it to be vague in this way, because the big bkdk reveal is not until the climax. He's a smart writer like this. Once Hori writes the context of these last moments for Katsuki being as intimate as they come, people will be like OH! oh.

In fact, anon, his desire to be good enough to keep up with Izuku is not lying in selfish thoughts/reasonings at all. It's quite the opposite. Katsuki wants to do his best so that he can stay by Izuku's side to help him. His ambitions to be the best hero might be a veil Hori placed here, but it's a very thin one, and we are able to read between the lines based on Katsuki's previous character development. He clearly wants to be stronger FOR Izuku's sake. His essence contains his love and acceptance for Izuku, need to stay by his side and help shoulder his responsibilities. We've long known that Katsuki doesn't want to leave Izuku alone to his burdensome fate.

What started off as a "positive change" relationship turned into a positive steadfast relationship arc. This was used specifically during Katsuki's fight against sAFO. sAFO told Katsuki that Izuku was the reason he was going to die, and what does Katsuki do? He remains loyal to him, and his resolve to love Izuku strengthens further.

The only thing that truly bothered Katsuki of all the things that AFO said to him was that he would never be good enough to stay by Izuku’s side. But we know exactly why that bothers him! Because of his internal arc and need to be by Izuku’s side for reasons that seem to be beyond platonic at this stage. He's been treating Izuku like an equal, a best friend... and a supportive spouse.

Because Katsuki hadn’t actually left Izuku’s side since their embrace in 322. He gravitates to him, to ease his anxieties and let him know he’s there for him multiple times, and Izuku reciprocates this by also walking over to talk to him a few times as well like after his Mei visit. Because by demanding closeness with Izuku in the discarding of his "Deku" name and embracing him, Katsuki had become Izuku's comfort person - someone to share his inner worries with. Izuku needs and trusts Katsuki, as well.

And Katsuki died with Izuku in his thoughts, brought about by things going on in his mind that we don't get to see, but can EASILY guess at: Izuku telling Katsuki he’s himself "because he never gives up until he wins" during their team-up against All Might.

Katsuki's answer to his flash back of this moment with Izuku was: “I gotta win, right Izuku?” and Hori showing him saying this gave us A LOT of information.

We are being told that this memory had always stuck with Katsuki and for him it was an important interaction with Izuku and that he understands he is being loved for this trait by Izuku. And by Katsuki getting back up despite his many devastating injuries and impending death that he knew was coming, he is accepting that love and wanting to receive even more of it by acting in the way Izuku most loves about him. Izuku's love is what comforted him during all of the physical and emotional trauma sAFO put him through.

Katsuki's character arc peaks at becoming a true hero, but it is stated by Hori in a way for people to know it is deeply tied into his feelings for Izuku. Katsuki got back up and told Best Jeanist to look after everyone, with the same amount of care Izuku has for others, and right after, Hori wrote "butsu butsu" (mutter mutter) next to Katsuki here, mimicking a trait of Izuku's he has always complained about. He displays Izuku's self sacrifice and even thinks of Izuku's pain. These things show the extent of which Katsuki's heart accepted and took all of Izuku into himself - thinking about Izuku grounded and comforted Katsuki in his final minutes. (+the All Might nerding at the end... yeah... their hearts are the same alright, thanks chapter 348. thanks Hori.)

And then finally Katsuki reaches out to Izuku and thinks “Hey Izuku, can I still catch up to you?” again a HUGE metaphor written for Bkdk's internal relationship arc. This can and should be read as “Hey Izuku, will my feelings ever reach you some day?” because Katsuki has always had a hard time communicating how he really feels and it’s only by facing certain death that he realised a lot of things about himself and Izuku, like the form his feelings of love take shape in.

pain pain pain pain pain reading this in japanese is painful

And the fact Katsuki is reaching out to Izuku with his hand implies that sometime before he died, he probably thought of Izuku coming to his rescue and trying to help him up like he's always done. The motivating message for Katsuki to fight harder to come back to life that was made on the back of volume 37 by Edgeshot once he was inside Katsuki’s heart and suddenly knew it was filled with his love for Izuku supports this. “Don’t give up, Dynamight!! (the one) you’ve been waiting for, He will… Deku will surely come!!” This quote and Katsuki's delirium tells us that his last wish was just to see Izuku's face once again.

I think that’s why he cried… because Katsuki knew Izuku wasn’t coming, he wouldn't make it in time, and Katsuki would die and then be used to hurt Izuku, just like sAFO said he would.

So in his delirium right before death, he is thinking of Izuku with a calm face and reaches out to take Izuku’s hand. And there is just NO WAY to see any of this as platonic. This is as romantic as it gets!

Woah this got LONG. Are you still with me anon? *sweats* If you are, I hope this could help you! And anyone else who read this <3 Also anon, you should check out my pinned post as it delves into their emotional feelings a bit as well.

----------------------------------------------!

BTW, read this chart I added below - it's freaking EYE OPENING thinking about how BkDK have hit ALL of these romantic beats so far. We are now up to Climax: Internal Relationship Arc. ❤️

I expect that to come at around chapter 398-400ish, when Katsuki appears from inside OFA (Because we theorise that AFO will set Izuku off one last time with what he did to Katsuki. Theories are quite often wrong, but I don't want to believe that those horrifying chapters of Katsuki being toyed with and humiliated until he died had no purpose other than to traumatise us Katsuki stans. Surely we were seeing it in place of Izuku, channelling how it would make him feel. After all, Izuku is the biggest Katsuki stan of all - he's gonna see it.)

[amnesique]

Hi sweetheart, can you write more about nicholas leister? maybe something very romantic and fluff

i'll always love you — nicholas leister

you begged nick so many times to watch a romantic movie with you, that many times that in the end he agreed. and now you were both on his bed watching the movie projected on the wall while you let your head fall on his shoulder.

but nick's comments did not hesitate to appear.

"how come they're already singing?" he sighs into your hair, reaching his hand behind your back to hug you closer to him. "it's just the beginning of the movie!" he continued dramatically. "we don't even know who the main characters are!"

you whispered to him to shut up and watch the movie and he barely resisted to keep his mouth shut, regretting letting you pick a musical.

less than a few minutes later you heard him comment something about the traffic that had been in the movie and you nudged him lightly with your elbow, chuckling, making him chuckle in turn, before he shut up again.

when the characters start singing again, he rests his head on yours, ready to give up all his patience, whispering, "does they really need to sing every god damn time?"

you ignored him and paid attention to the movie. and because he was bored, he started absently drawing circles in your palms, making you smile a subtle smile.

further on in the film, after nick had fallen asleep for a short time. and when he woke up, the characters were having a heated discussion, being at the table.

"did they really start arguing over nothing?” he whispered to you, now somewhat attentive to the screen, and you approved with a nod.

"i wouldn't have said that," nick finds himself saying, in a very serious tone, and you start giggling. you knew that he always did his best to support you in everything, and for him to have said anything negative about your dream was impossible. he would always be your biggest supporter.

"i know, love," you whispered back, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder and he rested his head on top of yours, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

seeing the characters bicker over nothing, when they could have very easily communicated and worked it out, annoyed nick. "can we watch something else?" he murmurs like a disgruntled child into your hair. "we had agreed to a romance movie, not this kind of a drama."

"it is a romance movie!" you said with a smile on your face and turn around to face him as you found his insistence adorable.

he raised his eyebrows and pointed at the screen where there was a montage of how badly the characters were doing without each other. "is that what you call a romance movie?"

"it's realistic!"

"yeah sure. then people like that really need some communication courses." he countered, rolling his eyes, annoyed at the movie.

you giggled softly as you leaned forward, with difficulty because of his arms around you, and paused the movie, and then you turned back to him to take his face in your hands and place a quick kiss on his lips.

you pulled back and looked at him with a smile on your face, admiring how handsome he was and feeling lucky that he was yours. "then what movie would you like us to watch?" you asked him.

he tried for a few seconds to think, but then a playful grin appeared on his lips.

"what?"

he grinned, placing his hands on either side of your waist to lift you a bit above and move you so that you could wrap your legs around the both sides of his body. "maybe we should make a movie," he suggested.

you weighed the situation for a few moments and smiled, biting slightly your bottom lip involuntarily, "ok," you agreed. "let's make a movie."

[mactavsh]

Out in the Cold [John “Soap” MacTavish x Female Reader]

Synopsis: The team goes looking for information on Makarov, things go sideways.

I certainly wasn't planning on writing more fics but here we are lol. Shoutout to @uselsshuman​ bc I can’t get enough of the Bird callsign, it’s so sweet. Also all the headcanons.🥰 

So here’s this please enjoy. // also on ao3

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of blood/injuries

The abandoned town looked unassuming as you approached, the snowstorm keeping much of it out of view. Of course, you knew better, Price had warned that there may be hidden resistance. This town was once used as a base for Makarov and his soldiers. From what Price told you the town was all set along one road. Various old shops sat on either side. Price sent you, Soap and Ghost to see if they left anything of value behind. Price, Gaz, and a small team of soldiers stayed at the base a few clicks south ready to mobilize backup if needed.

Ghost drove slowly through the storm, Soap in the passenger seat and you in the back. Everyone’s eyes were scanning what they could see for movement. As Ghost entered the town he pulled over, putting the car in park. 

“We’ll go on foot from here.” He stated as he stepped out of the vehicle. 

Soap got out next, quickly grabbing your door and opening it for you. “Ma’am,” He smiled as he held a hand out for you.

“Such a gentleman.” You smiled back at him grabbing the offered hand and stepping out of the vehicle.

“Focus, children.” Ghost called as he came up behind you. He and the rest of the 141 were the only ones who knew about the relationship between you and Soap. If you were honest with yourself, they knew it long before you both figured it out.

“Yessir.” Soap gave a lazy salute and Ghost rolled his eyes.

“Stay close.” Ghost spoke as he shifted his rifle off his back. “We don’t know if any of Makarov’s men stuck around. If they did they’d know this place better than us, especially in this storm.” Ghost led your team further into the town, you in the middle and Soap watching your backs. You were all dressed in white winter gear to blend in with the harsh elements. 

Entering the first few buildings you found nothing worthwhile. Old letters, some shell casings but nothing to help you in the fight against Makarov. As Ghost led the way into the next building you lingered just outside it, a faint noise drawing your attention. Soap noticed your absence.

“Bird? Something wrong?” He asked moving toward where you stood in the doorway of the old store.

You brought the scope of your rifle up to your eye scanning the other end of the road. A shot rang out and Soap grabbed your arm pulling you inside just as the bullet grazed the top of your shoulder.

“Shit,” You swore as you moved further into the building. “We got company.”

Soap sent a worried glance at your shoulder, the bright red seeping through became a stark contrast to the white jacket you wore. You gave him a nod, the two of you speaking without words as you both moved to a cover position.

Bullets began flying into the store shattering what was left of the windows. “They know we’re here.” Ghost stated as you all begin firing back.

From your position behind the counter, you could see Soap crouched behind some shelving toward the front. Ghost was on the opposite end of the counter as you. Shots rang out from each of your positions as you tried to even the odds.

“Soap can you get a count?” Ghost yelled through your headsets.

“Negative. With this storm, I can barely see what I'm shootin’ at.” Came Soap’s reply as he fired off more rounds.

“I’m going to see if there’s a back door.” You chimed in. Since you weren't getting shot at from both directions you figured either there was a back exit they haven't found or there isn't one at all. You turned toward the Lieutenant and he gave you a nod. Quickly you ducked through the Employee only door.

“Be careful, Birdy.” Soap shouted as the door closed behind you. 

Gun at the ready you made your way through the stockroom toward the back of the building. As you rounded a corner to the hallway a large man began firing at you from the other end. Turns out there is a back door, and they certainly knew about it.

You quickly ducked then fired a round into his skull and continued pushing forward. You could now see the door at the other end of the hallway, snow blowing in from outside.

“Bird you good back there?” Ghost spoke over your earpiece. He must've heard the gunfire. Just as you were about to respond more men entered the doorway. They began shooting and you ducked into a room but not quite fast enough as a round grazed your thigh. Staggering slightly into the room you readied yourself to fire back.

“Y/n?!” Soap's voice roared through your earpiece, tone laced with worry.

“I’m good. Turns out there is a back door and I have some friends back here.” You spoke as you quickly reloaded. Peeking around the corner you fired a few shots off hitting dead on target as two men fell. You steeled a quick glance at your thigh, superficial. Nothing to worry about right now. “I’m going to push forward, see if I can get to the door. Keep them occupied up front, boys.” You spoke as you ran out of your current room. Firing shots as you advanced to the adjacent doorway, two more down.

“You'll be the death of me, woman.” Soap replied. “Be careful.” He repeated once more. 

“Always am.” You replied, readying yourself for the fight. The men had begun to advance and you quickly shot the one that tried entering your doorway. You set your gun aside and grabbed a knife from your holster. You charged from your spot and stabbed the next soldier. Using him as a shield you took out your pistol making quick work of the last of the group. Dropping your shield you ran to the exit door checking both sides before stepping fully out.

The cold air nipped at your skin as you looked around. You were met with a long alleyway, and with the storm raging on it was hard to see very far. No vehicles but the buildings on either side of yours were open and there was a ladder that could get you to the roof of your current shelter.

“Bad news, boys. No getaway cars, just an alleyway. We can try to duck into the next building or I can take the ladder to the roof.”

“Get to the roof, Bird. We need eyes up high. See if you can get a visual on anything through the snow.” Came Ghost’s reply.

Looking down the alley again to ensure no one new was coming you ran to the ladder, climbing it with ease. “I was hoping you’d say that, Lieutenant.” You began heading to the front of the roof but a new noise caught your attention.

Growing loud through the sounds of gunfire was an aircraft. You spotted it headed directly towards the abandoned town, already too close to find adequate cover for the firepower it carried. “Boys we got incoming. Enemy aircraft, heavily armed.” 

“Shite get off the roof, Y/n!” Soap yelled, you began running back to the ladder but it was too late. The aircraft fired down the alley causing you to be thrown backward. You could hear Soap yelling your name before your head hit the concrete.

–

Your limbs felt like lead as your sluggish brain scrambled to come back to life. When it finally did you gasped upright, clothes damp from the snow that had settled on you while you were unconscious. Cold gripped your bones and an uncomfortable numbness took over your body from the elements.

Quickly you take count of your injuries; graze to the thigh and shoulder, various cuts from debris, and probably a concussion. Blood had dried on the side of your face causing your hair to stick there. Overall, nothing life-threatening. 

Taking note of your surroundings you saw no immediate threat, the storm had died down. The building had caught fire from the attack and it was getting close but no one was shooting at you. Actually, no one was shooting at all. The only sound you heard, now that the ringing in your ears died down, was the crackling of the fire and men speaking in Russian nearby. 

“Soap, Ghost, how copy?” Silence. “Soap, Ghost, This is Bird please respond.”  Still no response. Quickly you stood ignoring the dizziness that washed over you. You ran in the direction of where the ladder was only to discover the back of the building to now be a pile of rubble. Carefully you climbed down the ruined back wall while avoiding the fire that peeked out in spots. You tried the radio again. 

“Boys, do you copy? John-” Suddenly rubble shifted and you fell, ankle twisting as you tumbled down the rest of the way, cold snow breaking your fall as you rolled into the alley.

Slowly getting back on your feet you winced when you tried to put pressure on your ankle. You took a deep breath and readied your rifle. Luckily it went undamaged by your multiple falls. Gun loaded you made your way to the side of the building and then toward the front hoping to find your boys there.

You rounded the corner just in time to see Soap and Ghost's unconscious forms being loaded into the back of an SUV. Quickly you fired at the men around them but they were just as fast at firing back at you. You ducked behind the wall for cover and they used that time to finishing loading up. Hearing the sound of the engine retreating sparked the adrenaline in you.

Rounding the corner again you raised your rifle, ignoring the bullets flying at you. Aiming carefully you fired two shots at the rear tires, each finding its marks as the vehicle fishtailed and came to a screeching halt. You redirected your ire, firing at the men in front of you before running toward the now-disabled SUV.

Shifting your rifle to sit on your back you grabbed two knives from their holsters. As you approached a man leaped out of the passenger seat but before he could do anything you acted first, knife meeting the man's eye as he fell dead. Heading toward the driver's side you readied your other knife as the man got out to meet you.

“Did you really think I would let you get far?” You questioned adrenaline still high from the fighting.

“Makarov will kill you all!” The man yelled back in Russian. You lunged forward wrapping an arm around his neck and putting him in a chokehold.

Leaning close you whispered in his ear. “I will kill him first.” You spoke coldly in Russian before bringing your knife up and severing his throat. The man fell choking for a moment before dying.

You moved toward the back of the vehicle, opening the trunk. Soap and Ghost were haphazardly thrown in the back, feet facing you. Giving them a quick once over to look for any major injuries you saw nothing. They had both sustained head wounds, likely from the air assault, and the Russians tried to seize an opportunity for capture. You placed a hand on Soap's leg and brought your other hand up to your radio. Switching its channels a few times before you found the emergency frequency.

“Base this is Bird. Price do you copy?” You spoke into your earpiece.

After a minute the Captain finally responded. “I read you, Bird. What’s your status?”

“I need an extract. Soap and Ghost are out cold.” You responded, partially wishing you hadn't shot the tires of the truck they were already in. You were strong but you couldn’t carry both of them.

Another minute passed before you got a response. “Helo is en route. Radar doesn't show any enemy aircraft but stay vigilant. Are you injured?”

Glancing down at the blood on your clothes you sighed. You would worry about the bruises and cuts later. You knew you’d be sore tomorrow but you needed to make it there first. “Most of my blood is where it belongs.”

“Good. Gaz is on the helo to help you. Hang tight.”

“Yes sir.” The line went silent and you leaned onto the vehicle trying to take some weight off your injured leg. You rested for a moment catching your breath but it was short-lived. Enemy vehicles began approaching from the other end of town.

“Son of a bitch.” You swore, turning toward the unconscious men. “Now would be a good time to wake up, boys!” You yelled shaking both of their legs. When neither moved you swore under your breath and stole a couple of magazines off Soap’s vest. You slammed the truck door shut. It would provide them enough cover so long as they didn't pop their heads up and you didn’t let anyone get too close.

Readying your rifle you fired at the enemies approaching as you ran to a nearby concrete divider. “Price, how far is Gaz? More Russians just arrived.” You yelled over the gunfire.

The radio crackled to life once more. “Two minutes out!” Gaz replied and you sighed in relief.

“Just keep ‘em busy a little longer.” Price’s voice came with a twinge of worry.

“The fuck you think I'm doing?” You mumbled to yourself. The sound of glass shattering caught your attention and you looked over to see the window of the trunk gone.

In an effort to redirect the enemy, you hopped the concrete divider. Pushing forward you fired at the enemy before vaulting through an empty windowsill. The tactic worked as they all began shooting in your direction, the SUV forgotten. Now however you were stuck, chunks of the wall peppering you as the onslaught of bullets continued.

“Y/n, where are you?” You jumped as Soap’s voice came over your earpiece.

“John!” You spoke as you fired off a few more rounds. “How’s the head?”

“Not what I asked, woman. Please tell me that you’re not in that building everyone is shooting at.”

You paused, from where he was you were sure he had a clear view of the situation you had gotten yourself into. “Then I won’t.”

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus.”

Finally, you heard the telltale sound of a helicopter approaching. You peeked out of a different window killing a few more soldiers before ducking again. The helicopter landed, followed quickly by the sounds of return fire. The approaching friendlies made quick work of the remaining Russian soldiers.

“Bird, you still standing?” Gaz’s voice came over your earpiece. You breathed a sigh of relief and peeked out of your hiding place.

“Somehow.” You replied. You saw medics already grabbing the still unconscious Ghost and loading him onto the helicopter. Soap was already halfway to you by the time you climbed back through the window. You made your way over to him, limping as you went. He finally closed the distance, hugging you tightly against his chest. A content sigh left your lips as you listened to the sound of his heartbeat against your ear. He pulled back, putting his hands on either side of your face, looking at you with the beautiful blue eyes you loved dearly.

“Had me worried there.” He looked at you earnestly. You knew he hated you being in danger but at the same time, he knew he couldn't do anything to stop you. You were both where you belonged in the field and at each other's side. “Seeing you pinned down like that,” He shook his head.

“Well, one of us has to keep things interesting.” You smirked up at him.

“Is that so.” He spoke in a low growl, hands grabbing your waist now.

“Mhm,” You grabbed his vest pulling him down for a kiss, which he eagerly returned.

After a moment he pulled away, gently pushing a stray hair back behind your ear. “Love you.”

You leaned into the gentle touch. “Love you too.”

“Glad you’re all in one piece,” Kyle spoke as he approached you both.

“Me too.” You smiled, the adrenaline wearing off. Soap put an arm under yours to help take the weight off your injured leg as you all walked toward the helicopter.

“Pretty badass taking on an entire convoy yourself, the state you're in,” Gaz said and you were pretty sure you looked like a bloodied mess.

“Is that surprise in your voice, Garrick?” You teased.

“Not in the slightest.” Kyle smiled.

Soap chimed in as he helped you sit in the helicopter. “My woman’s the biggest badass here.” Soap said with a look of pure pride plastered on his face as he sat next to you putting a hand on your knee.

Kyle rolled his eyes, "You two are nauseating." He laughed then reached for his radio. “Price, everyone’s accounted for. Moving out.” Kyle spoke as the pilot began taking off. 

Soap shifted putting an arm around your shoulders so you could lean your head on him. The warmth of his embrace lulled you to sleep. He gently kissed the top of your head, content knowing you were now in the safest place possible.

[thecoffeelorian]

And now, for something slightly different...

Hello again, everyone...

...Okay, gang...before we get started here, there's something I think I need to confess here first.

I don't know how in the world I'm supposed to feel about this show any more.

I mean...in the beginning, I thought their arc was clear as a bell: start removing every single darned inhibitor chip they could find, start the evac efforts to an Outer Rim planet, and then start rebuilding new lives, the end.

Instead, it's turned into what looks like a never-ending negative feedback loop: don't lift a finger to rescue a certain person; get told to give a darn about said person by the child character; finally act on the child's orders...but then as a creepy consequence for giving a darn at all, the title squad/'family'(?) starts watching its members not rethink one side of an ideological/psychological divide and leave them; not give up completely on rescuing Troopers/join the Margaritaville Society and leave them; not remember that there are human weight-bearing birds on a certain mountain planet and leave them; finally agree to be caught by the Empire in order to locate Mount Tantiss and leave them...and oh yes, let's add a 'Will They Kill A Brother/Won't They Kill A Brother' game to the mix, if things weren't totally weird enough...I mean, all right, already.

If this show WASN'T about having all six title characters come back together as a true family on an asylum planet, what IS happening here?

How in the world am I expected to respond to repetitive, exhausting moments of disaster and family splintering when for three whole years, I was endlessly told that there was NO disaster, that this was the PERFECT family, that they would NEVER end up shedding members one by one, etc...and...everything that the big-name fans and fandom influencers said WOULDN'T happen IS, in fact, happening right this very minute.

In other words, the squad and family keeps on disintegrating a little bit more with each new season, and I'm left thinking the same thing a few of you must have thought at least once.

Why am I here?

Is it because I'm studying this series as a whole like a certain Chiss studies art, and searching for all of its strengths and weaknesses in order to better improve my own writing? Is it for the sake of wishing to learn how to draw better, and practicing the craft in the safety of something familiar? Or, am I instead becoming some manner of corporate counter-revolutionary, and taking up fanworks as my mode of protest against stories that revolve more around too-short moments of cuteness and horror, sometimes solely for shock value alone...?

I'm afraid I can't answer questions like these just yet, no, not even to myself. I can only read and write and pretty much grieve everything that these episodes/seasons were supposed to be...yet for Force knows what reason, keep getting relegated to the same few plot points over and over again while expecting different results. I can only hope that there's some eventual breakthrough to make it all worth it in the end, if only to rid myself of the thought that this could be the very first bit of Nihilist media in the fandom.

Anyway...*deep breath* Now that I've given you my two cents on this issue...let's get right to my picks of the week, which, thanks to the return of a very interesting sister, I'm unofficially titling this as:

THE DATHOMIR EDITION

The Bad Batch Fan Art

Captain Howzer by @thespianwtch.

She Is Mommy by @anko-art.

Star Wars Rebels Fan Art

Alexsandr Kallus by @ghosty-blues1.

The Bad Batch Fan Fiction

You know, brother by whiteaxolotl

Fight Like Brothers Do by AgentMaryMargaretSkitz

deprogramming by vicious_creature

Whatever Is Necessary by ChopSyndulla

Domiciles by Polyphonic_Garden

Star Wars Sapphic Week, Day 5--Sparring by @violetjedisylveon

Serpent's Kiss by mediumsweet

Not A Soldier by TigerTheSpahget

Star Wars Sequels Fanfiction

What We Do In The Resistance by AgentMaryMargaretSkitz

And now, I'd like to put in a small advertisement, if only to bring more attention to an up-and-coming artist: @ve-ti-ver has started up their own Patreon page, available at this link . So, if you'd like to support them, please feel free to visit their page.

Finally, yes, you probably all know the drill by now...but just in case you need a reminder, here we go: Please give this post a like and a reblog, so that we can pass this post around the Internet and back!

This Week's No Pressure Tags Go Out To: @sharpasanaro @bananasugarwarrior @lazyprofessorpursesalad @callsign-denmark @melymigo @yeehawgeek @littlefeatherr @anko-art @guppyfreedom @giraffedragon-universe @clonebrainrot @gun-roswell @omglisalithium @falconfeather23435 @uuurgh @simply92-me @skellymom @metalatl @dathomirdumpsterfire @kuraiummei @thedynamicworm @ur-pal-ari @advisorsnips @groguandthebadbatch @lee-lee-la @themightychipmunk42 @random-chaotic-bitch @wastingstarsss @flyiingsly @ilovemedia @talesfrommedinastation @swarovski-yoda and anyone else who might be interested in catching more fanart and fanfictions.

Thank you, good afternoon, good luck, and...

[waklman]

Of Course He Loves Me

summary: your past comes back to haunt you, and your roomate jake is there to witness it.

pairing: jake seresin x female reader

warnings: hurt/comfort. talks of past exploitive experiences, bad treatment of women, negative self talk, and allusions to sex. 18+ blog.

a/n: inspired by rhiannon mcgavin qoute shown above bc it reminds me of jake :)

word count: 3.6k.

“Do we want chocolate chips in our pancakes?” Jake asks, solemnly, waiting for you to make the executive decision.

“I think we do,” you confirm, matching his serious tone—twisting your middle to grab the said bag of sweets. The plastic crinkles when he takes it from you, with a pleased hum. 

Jake sets it down, then quickly scans the spread in front of him. His eyebrows pinch together, realizing he’s missing just one item. “Pancake mix..” he lowly mutters to himself. 

You scoot forward, aiming to hop off the counter to fetch it, but Jake stops you–pinning the hem of your sleep shirt down against the countertop with his hand, wordlessly telling you to stay put with a shake of his head. He doesn’t spare you a second to object–already guiding himself across the kitchen in search of the box of dry ingredients himself.

A defeated sigh slips your lips, looking ahead as he trudges off with heavy footsteps.

The towhead blond has yet to tame his bed head–there’s two pieces of hair sticking out each side of his head resembling ears, making him look like a newborn kitten. 

While he slowly sifts through the cabinets, the sunlight filtering through the apartment reflects off something on his finger, drawing your attention away from the state of his hair. You softly smile to yourself, seeing the ring you had on last night, now sitting safely on his pinky finger. It was a drunken habit of yours—you somehow always lost track of your personal belongings on nights out. Knowing this, Jake made sure to keep your things under his care when you had too much to drink.

Your chest tightens in appreciation for him, there was no one who looked out for you the way he did. 

“Whoever gets to marry you, has to be the luckiest girl in the world,” you announce quietly, looking down at your legs, bringing them to a slow stop–no longer unconsciously swinging them. You blink in recognition, seeing that at some point last night–he pulled a pair of fluffy socks onto your feet. You wiggle your toes, as all the events—previously muddled by alcohol, start to come back to you. 

“Marriage? Darling, I thought we’d be roommates for life,” he quips with a light laugh, carrying the acquired box back over to join you and the rest of the ingredients. 

“I’m serious, not everyone is lucky enough to have someone like you,” you try to laugh, but it falls short—now aware of the reason why you drank so much in the first place. Fuck.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you look past your own feet, searching for something to steady yourself on–and your eyes land right onto Jake’s feet. He has on a pair of your fluffy socks too, but they’re an older set, with matted tufts of cotton and elastic fibers scutching in on itself. 

Jake sets down the box, putting a pause on breakfast for now, troubled by your abrupt silence. He can see from the corner of his eye that you’re just vacantly staring at the floor. Something about the shift in demeanor ticks off a warning signal in his head. 

Then, it clicks. You got wasted last night, throwing back shots like it was nothing. When he tried to probe, you drunkenly told him you just wanted to try something new. And a part of Jake found it off-putting—you had an affinity for sweet drinks, so why the need for change? 

A knowing concern coats his thoughts immediately. 

“Did he text you again?” He asks, face unafraid. But deep in his gut, Jake feels the anxiety anchoring him down from where he stands, locking his knees in place. He wills himself to look away from the box mix in front of him, finally lifting his head up to look at you. 

From your peripheral, you can see Jake’s eyes set on the side of your face, patiently waiting for a response. In no way does he rush you, but you feel hurried to give him an answer. Yet you can’t. The walls of your throat have already swelled thick, pressing together at the center, preventing you from speaking.

Jake swallows grimly, eyes dropping down to see you gripping onto the granite counter for dear life, knuckles tight and veins about to burst from excessive strain. After a beat of silence, he calmly moves around you, flipping on the sink beside you. 

The panic that takes hold of you doesn’t allow you to see him test the temperature of the water, nor does it let you feel the way he carefully pries your hand from the counter, easing each finger off the cold ledge. You’re brought back once you feel a warm liquid run over your hand. It slips through your fingers and soothingly traces the skin of your wrist, that’s held by him–you can feel everything again. 

Jake slowly takes in a breath, allowing you to mimic him. His eyes are still locked on you, and a brush of relief briefly sweeps his heart when he notices you taking languid breaths with him. Though, your gaze is still lowered, eyes focused on the lining of his socks. 

After a few more steady exhales, you attempt to reply to Jake’s question again–but embarrassment enters your system, holding you back. You chose to slowly nod instead, knowing he’ll understand. “Okay, I see,” Jake answers cautiously, keeping his voice low. 

He’s still holding your hand under the running water, with both of you acutely aware of the deja vu that washes over this familiar exchange of words. It’s almost a pitiful routine that you two fall into every year–all starting with a text from your ex-boyfriend each time. 

It’s as though you could never get rid of him—the older guy you met working part time back in highschool always made yearly appearances in your life again, like it’s some twisted occasion he must attend to. 

He’d tie you down, under the false promise that “he’s changed”—convincing you to meet up with him. And you’d go, fully expecting to receive an apology—chasing that closure you deserved. But everytime, without fail, your old wound would be mercissley torn right open by him, raw and bloody for the world to see—for him to see. 

And it was ruthless, the way he’d ripped you apart, belittling you, reminding you how gullible and worthless you are—throwing it in your face for his own sadistic pleasure. No one will ever love you if you’re this pathetic, crawlin’ back to me like some fucking puppy. It made him satisfied with himself, knowing you’d always be there for him to gain a sense of control again. He chased that high each year, renewing himself with it—tossing you aside like garbage, after he got what he wanted, until he needed you again next time. 

And everytime, Jake was there for you after shit hit the fan—holding back his anger, while he consoled you–trying his hardest to sweetly smile at you while you weakly combat your heartache. Jake hated how useless he felt—his efforts were always futile. Because, truly there was nothing he could do to stop the hurt that laid inside of you.

But there was one thing Jake could do, and that was making sure to never express his disdain for your decision to see your ex, because he knew how you felt when everyone else in your life did. It made you feel small and stupid—the two things Jake never wanted you to feel about yourself. To him, you were nothing but forgiving and sweet, just stuck in a harmful cycle. This was not your fault, it never was. 

Back when you two were teenagers, Jake had been somewhat alarmed by your relationship with the guy, because what did a man of his age want with you? But Jake held his tongue and trusted you, holding back his concerns when you told him about your new boyfriend, because you glowed like you never had before. So, seventeen year old Jake did what he thought was best—he kept his mouth shut—because what kind of best friend would he be if he stood in the way of your happiness? 

But, if he knew then, what he knew now, Jake would have done anything in his power to stop you from ever meeting him. Because that jerk shouldn’t have ever been interested in someone so much younger than he was, in the first place. It took Jake years of maturing, reaching his very age today to come to that realization because now you two are no longer kids.

“And he wants to see you again?” he asks, jaw clenched, already knowing the answer.

You swallow. “I’m seeing him next week.”

“Jake?” 

“Yes?” Jake answers before he can even think, already peeking over the back of the couch in search of you. 

He looks in the direction of the wall by the end of the hallway, patiently waiting for your footsteps to finally reach there. 

You come out, holding up the front of your dress and Jake doesn’t know what to feel. “Can you help me zip this up?” you ask, embarrassed you couldn’t get your dress on fully. Your hands had been trembling all day, knowing who you’ll be seeing tonight. 

Jake immediately rushes to get up at your request—not letting you take another step towards him. You lightly smile, not surprised by his behavior at all. He’d been like this since you met, programmed to never let you take the extra mile to reach him.

“I shared my location with you,” you whisper, back facing towards him now. You shiver, feeling his knuckle brush against the exposed skin there, gently holding the small zipper between his fingers. 

“Why? I trust you.” He pretends to be unaware of the situation, trying to convince himself that his gut feeling isn’t true—that you’re not seeing him tonight. 

“I’m seeing him in a bit, and I just—I want you to have my location.” Jake finally zips up your dress, feeling like he sealed your fate—you’re destined for a dreadful night, and he can’t do anything about it. 

He reaches for your waist, but doesn’t have to do much to get you to turn around, because you’re already spinning around to face him. 

Jake swallows hard. You look almost unreal under him—too pretty for his brain to even comprehend. And a part of Jake hates that he won’t be the only one who gets to see you like this, especially not tonight.

“Okay,” he stares down at you, expression unreadable. 

You look up at him, wanting him to give you a reason to stay instead—but he doesn’t see the thought begging to be seen in your head, too distracted by the sick feeling pooling in his stomach. 

“Be safe, and remember to text me, please,” he whispers, pressing a delicate kiss to your forehead—as if he’s implanting his reminder there. 

The light pressure of his lips makes your heart melt in your chest. With his hands still on your waist, Jake lightly pulls you into him, not sure if it’s to comfort you—or himself. He just knows that he needs to hold you. You instinctively lean into his touch as he begins to wrap his arms around you securely. “Will you come pick me up after?” you mumble, against his shirt. 

“I’ll be there the moment you tell me to.” He assures you, meaning it fully. 

Jake feels restless, swerving into the acceleration lane, slamming his foot on the gas. The rain harshly slamming down against his windows just spurs him on even further, bringing him past the speed limit. 

It’s already well past midnight, and you called him not long ago, barely able to get out a word, too choked up even speak—having to hang up and text him instead. 

Leading up to this, Jake had been shamelessly checking your location. With every second that passed with no update from you, his leg bounced harder against the wooden floor, prompting the downstairs neighbor to smack their ceiling, warning him to knock it off for the fifth time. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Jake had practically lunged at his phone when you finally called, heart sinking when he painfully listened to you whimper–the only coherent word that left your mouth was his name.

He already knew your location, rushing to meet you there now. It’s a ten minute drive from here, Jake made sure to check—but he’s already nearing you in under three minutes. 

It’s not long until he spots you in the empty parking lot. He practically throws himself out the car, ignoring the fact that his door is still slung open.

The sight of you sitting on the wet pavement, knees protectively pulled against your chest, and face buried into your hands makes him sick to his stomach. It takes everything in him to maintain his composure, finally reaching you as he lowers himself to your level. 

All the weight of his worries pit against him now, making it hard to breathe—it’s suffocating almost. 

With careful hands, he wraps his fingers around your cold ankles, attempting to regulate your body temperature, sweetly swiping the skin there. Jake swallows unsurely, feeling you shake like a leaf under him. 

In the palms of your hands, you’re biting back the viscous cry threatening to spill over. Jake’s chest caves in, weak from seeing like this. “It’s okay, let it out.” he permits, leaning in to whisper the words against your ear–drowning out the sound of the rain completely. 

It’s okay, let it out. Those five words mean more to you than you could take, especially coming from Jake. 

Before you can even realize it, the honeyed reassurance opens the flood gates to everything you’ve been suppressing. The horrible insults you pathetically took in the past hour, the sickly feeling of his hands on you from earlier, and the stabbing memories from years ago all bubble to the surface. And you finally break. 

You lamely fall forward, with Jake catching you immediately, in his arms–as the sound of your cry finally echoes into the air. It hurts–the way it thrashes against the walls of your throat, and mercilessly sears through your lungs. It hurts so much, but you can’t hold it in anymore–instead, you force yourself to take on the painful feeling as the cry empties out of you. 

Jake screws his eyes shut at the withering sound, promising to himself that this is the last time he’ll have to hear you like this. He will never let you feel this way again. 

Trying to keep his voice from trembling, Jake forces himself to smile, sweetly whispering to you, once again. “Let’s head home, Darling.”

You haven't said a word since you two got back, too ashamed to speak of tonight’s events. 

But Jake doesn’t show you any sign of judgment, as he pulls out your skincare bottles from the drawer with pursed lips. He came into the bathroom, after waiting outside for you to finish your shower, helping you prep for bed now. 

“Toner pads first,” he declares softly, screwing open the container. 

You tiredly look through him, unable to tear the sad expression off your face. But he softly smiles at you anyway, carefully swiping the cotton pads against your skin. 

It’s like this for the next few minutes—with you lost in your thoughts, sitting on the sink while Jake does his best to correctly go through each step of your routine. 

“I’m so naive,” you weakly profess out of nowhere, starting to sniffle. 

Jake stills, putting down your moisturizer, remaining quiet to let you continue.

“I was—I am, so stupid Jake,” you correct yourself. “I can’t even be mad that everyone looks at me like I’m—like I'm dumb,” you spit out. “I deserve to feel like an idiot, because I just am.” Your voice begins to tremble, but you keep going anyway. “Of course, I had to throw myself at the first person who gave me an ounce of attention, because I knew no one else would, but look where that got me.” You pause, harshly wiping away the rogue tear that slips down your cheek. “He’s right Jake, I’m damaged goods, no one can love me when I’m like this.”  Jake breathes heavily, dissecting the way you talk about yourself. You couldn’t be more wrong.

“Stop it.” he says sternly, no longer smiling. 

His tone catches you by surprise, and you’re scared to keep looking at him. He looks so tired of you—so done with you. Anyone else would’ve given up on you by now, it comes as no surprise that he’s taken the chance to do so.

You lock your eyes on the limp hands in your lap instead, ready for him to admit defeat, like he should. Instead, Jake catches your discernment and reaches out to grab your hands. 

“Look at me,” he says more softly this time. 

Tentatively, you lift your head to look at him again, ignoring the tears blurring your vision.

He takes a deep breath, before speaking again. 

“You’re not naive. You're not stupid. You're not dumb. You’re not an idiot. You’re not damaged goods,” he says firmly, addressing all the hurtful terms you called yourself. “And you’re not incapable of being loved.” You feel your bottom lip quiver at the final statement.

“If any of that was true, I wouldn’t be able to care for you so much, but I do. I care about you so fucking much,” he says, face contorted in pain, seeing the disbelieving look on your face. “You’re everything he’s not. Every bad thing he says to you, is not about you at all. It’s about him. He’s naive, he’s stupid, he’s dumb, he’s the idiot, and he's the damaged one.” You finally allow the tears to drip down to your neck—completely soaking the neckline of your shirt. 

Your eyes snap shut, shaking your head at him, denying what he says. “I mean everything I said.” Jake affirms again, gently swiping away your salty tears. You still don't believe him.

“How do—how do you not hate me, as much as I hate myself?” The choked out sentence punches him right in the heart. This hurts Jake most of all. 

You turn your head away from him, eyes still screwed shut. But he’s already pulling his hands from your lap, to cradle your head in his hands instead. 

“I can never hate you,” he says, voice strung in hurt. He doesn’t know what was the worst part of your question. How could you possibly hate yourself? How could he possibly hate you? And how can you possibly hate something, he loved so dearly. 

You open your eyes, ready to spit out something—anything that’s hurtful enough to get rid of him. He doesn’t deserve to deal with you anymore. But the words die on your tongue, because he’s looking at you with so much concern, with so much love. 

And it’s as if your body has a mind of its own, because now you lurch forward, capturing his lips in a kiss. 

Your head spins when kisses you back in an instant, purposefully slotting his lips against yours, like he has the ability to suck out the hurt living inside you. But it feels like he does, because it's healing, the way he kisses you.

Your heart bursts under your ribs, feeling him slowly drop his hands to your waist, thumbs swiping over the fabric of your shirt, with no urge to take it off you. Yet he’s still able to pull a noise from you, swallowing it down his throat as it leaves you.

His tongue slips into your open mouth next, curling against your own wet muscle—its almost euphoric. The entire room blurs around you, your mind can’t process anything—but him. 

Yet, you pull away first, shocked by the unfamiliar feeling that started brewing in your tummy. You blink shyly at him, he’s fully pressed against you now. “I can never hate you,” he whispers the affirmation again, planting a kiss on your forehead. He stamps the declaration there, hoping it never leaves your mind. 

“I know,” you answer him, believing him this time. Jake swallows, seeing you stare up at him, trusting him fully.

Without a thought, Jake leans back down to peck your lips, drawn in by the way it’s wet with his saliva. It’s meant to be short, because his lips are already drifting from yours—but you chase after the feeling in your stomach again, feeling it growing stronger. Jake hands trail down to your hips, squeezing them in surprise, kissing you back. 

He feels your hands already reaching for his pajama pants, fingers digging into the band, and he stops you, moving his hands to coax yours away from there. 

You retract your mouth from his, feeling regretful. “Shit, I’m sorry Jake I—”

“It's not that.” He assures you. Your brows furrow at his reply, until you understand the apologetic look he’s now giving you—and you know exactly what it means. I love you, but not tonight.

You nod.  

Jake kisses the corner of your mouth, withdrawing his hands to dig out something from his pocket. You smile at what he pulls out from there. It’s a pair of mismatched fluffy socks, one blue and one pink. 

You both look down at his own feet, and he lets out an embarrassed laugh. He’s wearing the matching pair for each sock in his hand. His left foot has a blue sock on it while the other has the pink sock. 

A warm feeling pins you down—Jake is wearing your socks.

note: this one is very special to me, so thank you for reading. as always, reblogs are very greatly appreciated!

taglist: @pono-pura-vida @teaminator @alana4610 @angellwingsss @nataddz @deliriousfangirl61 @bookchik26 @little-wiseone @lonelysoul50

join my taglist here or follow me on @waklman-library & turn on notifs there to be notified when i post!

[acewritesfics]

Study Time | Eddie Munson

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Request: From Anon

Warnings: Self doubt, feelings of failure. Implied smut.  

Word Count: 845

Credit: @/firefly-graphics for the hellfire club dividers.

Tag List: Open - acewritesfics taglist sign up

Stranger Things Masterlist

Y/N is startled awake as the trailer door slams shut. She hadn’t intended to doze off while she awaited Eddie’s return from his Hellfire Club meeting. She was more tired than usual since this week at the video store had seemed busier. She wasn’t sure if it was the upcoming spring break or the fact that everyone had chosen to host a movie night this week. She was sorting through the returned VCRs when she started falling asleep at the counter, and Steve had instructed her to go home. 

As Eddie entered his bedroom with a discouraged expression on his face, she sat up on the bed. The mischievous gleam in his deep brown eyes had faded, and his shoulders slumped. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked as he flung himself on the bed next to her. His face hit the pillow as he screamed in frustration and murmured something she couldn’t quite make out. “I’m sorry. What was that? I don’t understand your pillow grumbling.” 

He groans into the faintly stained pillow once more before turning onto his back and looking up at her. “I’m failing yet again.” 

“No, you’re not,” she responds, perplexed as to why he would believe so. He assured her that he was passing his classes, albeit not with an A or even a B, but he was well on his way to graduating.  

“Ms. O'Donnell told me today that I was barely passing her class,” he informs her. “I have to pass her final or I won’t graduate…again.” 

She frowns, remembering her days in the old teacher’s classroom, Prior to starting a relationship with Eddie, she had never had any problems with the teacher. In fact, she had warned her against being in a relationship with Eddie, claiming that the metalhead would only bring her down to his level. “I’m pretty sure the old hag just has it in for you.”  

He sighs, “Or I’m just stupid.” 

She reprimands him for talking so negatively about himself by giving him a little tap on the shoulder. “You’re not stupid. You just struggle sometimes. You are not failing, either. "You just need to pass this final, like you mentioned.” 

“And how am I going to achieve that?” he asks cynically. 

“I’ll help with your studies,” She gets up from his bed and walks over to the desk, which was across the room. She searches through the notebooks until she locates the one she gave him that had all of her notes from the previous year. He sits up as she returns to the bed and settles back down next to him. “Have you gone over my notes from last year?” 

He has a remorseful expression in his eyes as she glances at him. He hadn’t even glanced at her notes, if he were being completely honest. In order to create room for the notebooks that contained all his notes and campaigns for his Dungeons & Dragons adventures, he pushed her notebooks aside and quickly forgot about them. 

“You haven’t, have you?” His silence was all the answer she needed. “Edward Munson.”  

He rolls his eyes, “Jesus Christ, don’t you start on me.”  

He hated that he was letting her down. He didn’t want to. She had been by his side through both his failure to graduate while she graduated herself last year. She had the opportunity to end their relationship and move on to someone else, but she stuck with him, offered him support, and continued to love him through it all. 

“Look through my notes. I’ve highlighted everything that should be helpful,” she instructs him. “I’ll do my best to help you if there is anything you need help with.”  

“I’m struggling with everything,” he admits, leaning back against his headboard. She feels Eddie drawing circles on her back. His light touches her, sending a thrill through her body. “Where are you up to in class?”  

As he tells her where they were up to, he leans closer, his chest against her back, kissing her from her shoulder to her neck. She chews her lower lip as she flips through the pages, looking for the necessary notes. 

“Eddie,” she breathes softly, a whimper caught in her throat. As he puts his lips on her sweet spot, his teeth graze her skin. To prevent any further moans from escaping her throat, she bites her lip more firmly. “You need to study,” 

“I can do that later,” he replies, moving away from her neck and turning her head towards him. He takes the notebook from her grasp and tosses it to the side, while he crushes his lips to hers in a bruising kiss. 

He pushes her back into the bed, as he crawls over top of her, running his ringed hands beneath his Dio shirt that she’s wearing. With one knee bowed against his hip and the other wedged between his legs, she pulls on his shirt to draw him closer. She was aware that he was doing this to divert her attention from his difficulties. She would allow the distraction… this time. 

TAGGED: LINK TO TAG LIST SIGN-UP ABOVE.

[yelenasdiary]

Hi there. I'm sorry if I'm doing this the wrong way. I've never requested anything before. I was wondering if you could do a Florence Pugh and female reader angst/comfort where they've been dating for a bit. Flo comes home early from filming to surprise her and finds her self harming. If you can't or its too dark I understand. I struggle with self injury and a story with Flo comforting her girlfriend who struggles with mental health sounds nice.

When Will It End?

Pairing: Florence Pugh x Reader

Summary: A surprise turns into worry and concern.

Heavy Angst | Comfort | Depression Warning | Self Harm Warning | Language Warning | Mentions of Blood | 0.8K

AC: Please only read this is you feel up to it. Dark topic is obviously covered in this. Please know that none of you are alone and you can always, and I mean, ALWAYS talk to me if you ever need!! *excuse the gif*

Letting your darker thoughts overtake your mind wasn't something unusual for you, especially when you're alone. It's been weeks since you last saw Florence, your girlfriend over a year and a half. She was off filming, and you always understood that there would be times within the relationship where she'd have to go away for a period of time, but she always made it important to at least facetime you once a day, twice if she could. But this week has felt like the longest week. 

You've only spoken to Flo twice and the rest has been over text and not being able to hear from her when you needed her only added to your thoughts and self-doubt. The coldness of feeling alone quickly brought tears to your eyes no matter how hard you told yourself that your thoughts were not true and that you weren't any of the things you were telling yourself. The voice in your head leading you more and more into the dark cave you've been so great at avoiding, before you knew it, the urge was there. 

Tears soaked your face as you walked into the bathroom, doing your best not to look at yourself in the mirror as you grabbed a fresh shaving razor and removed the blade from its hold. Your thoughts becoming more and more darker, the voice screaming inside your mind of how unworthy you felt. You wished it would stop, that the voice would die and never return but the more it spoke to you, the more you started to believe the negative ways of thinking. 

Sinking to the bathroom floor, resting your back against the counter of the bathroom sink. "Go on, do it. You're all alone and nobody cares" the voice echoed through your mind as you slowly pulled your sleep shorts above your thighs. The blade in your right hand, tears endlessly streaming down your face and soaking the collar of your sleep shirt. It was the only way to stop the voice, you told yourself as the blade touched your sensitive skin, drawing blood as you dragged the blade over your thigh. 

Nothing around you mattered in this moment as you watched the blood stream from your cuts. The voice in your mind now laughing so loudly at your actions you didn't even hear Florence enter the home in her happy cheer of "Baby! I'm home". Another cut to add to the river of blood before Florence's hand grabbed your right wrist in a panic. 

"Darling, look at me!" she took the blade from your hand and threw it into the sink. "Darling" she spoke once again before cupping your face to look at her. "F-flo" you mumbled as you came back to your senses, "I…I'm…I'm sorry" you stuttered as your tear filled eyes looked at her. "Oh sweetheart, I'm here" she pulled you in for a hug as you sobbed loudly into her shirt. She grabbed the hand towel from the countertop and placed it over your thigh to stop the blood, "I'm sorry" you repeated over and over as she held you tightly in her arms, tears of her own falling from her eyes. 

"Shhh honey, it's okay, I'm right here" Florence rubbed your back gently, "I'm here now" she repeated as you allowed yourself to feel safe in her arms. The voice in your head faded away the longer Florence held you close. "I love you so much darling" she whispered softly as you started to calm down. You looked up at her, allowing her to wipe your tears "I couldn't think…it jus-"

"Darling, it's okay, I'm not mad. I'm worried but you're okay and we'll do whatever we need to get help okay?" Florence placed a kiss on your forehead, "I'm going to push my schedule back for a while, I'm not going anywhere" she adds looking into your puffy, red eyes. You nodded slowly at her words too tired to speak. "I'm going to clean you up and get you into bed, okay?" 

Florence gently cleaned your cuts, placing a soft kiss around them before bandaging them as she whispered "I love you" with every kiss. "You are worth so much more than what you think, you have no idea how happy you make me and those around you. I'm not just saying this darling, you are so special" she cupped your face after cleaning your cuts, "you make this world so enjoyable, a better place for everybody" she adds. Her words mean more to you than she'll ever truly know. 

"Come on, let's get you to bed" she helped you off the floor and tucked you into bed, not caring that she was still in her casual clothes, she got into bed next to you and wrapped her arms around you. She gently strokes your back as you begin to fall asleep in her arms. "I love you, my darling" was the last thing you heard before falling into a slumber.

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @jeyramarie | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145  | @sophie-xox | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @marvelfan98 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @sophie-xox | @fluffyblanketgecko | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @crescent-witch | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @a-dorkier-book-keeper | @hehehehannahthings | @blue-serendipityy | @secrettoallofyou | 

[sirthisisa-wendys]

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR THE MONSTERS PART 2 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Always a pleasure!

Monsters (Part 2): Keizo Arashi x Fem!Reader

wc: 1,3k

tw: the smut monster took the wheel and choked me out jesus idek what happened but smut please forgive me, very little plot

masterlist

Part 1

One tender kiss on a small cheek. Another tender kiss on a bigger cheek.

Keizo's fingers smooth across your skin as he unwinds himself from his position in the bed. He's trying so hard to avoid disturbing you. It wouldn't be fair if he--

"Where are you going?" Your speech is slurred, and Keizo grunts, disappointed.

"I'm just getting something to drink," he whispers, turning around halfway to kiss your lips. "Go back to sleep, baby."

"No." You slip out of bed with him, placing pillows around your sleeping child before following him into the kitchen. It's an ugly studio apartment, and Keizo hates looking at the cramped space for too long. But it's all he can manage right now.

When he gets the chance to see Takemichi and Naoto, then he can dump the responsibility on them and usher you and his son back to safety. But until then...

"My love," Keizo murmurs as you open the fridge. "You need to rest."

"I'll sleep when I can," you reply, pouring two glasses of water before shutting the fridge. "It's not like I'm suffering from exhaustion."

At this, you reach your hand out to touch the bags under Keizo's eyes. He catches your hand in his and kisses the inside of your wrist lovingly. "Come here."

"Listen," you begin as he pulls you closer. "I'll stay up while you and Kai get some sleep. You need it more than I do."

"Nah..." Keizo smirks as he slowly brings you into his embrace, and then his head dips low as you gaze up at him. "I think I have a better idea." It's as if someone breathed new life into his lungs when he kisses you. It's all part of his plan, and the benefits at the moment are definitely outweighing the negatives.

"Kei..." you exhale as he kisses down your neck slowly. "We shouldn't--" Keizo's fingers roll up your shirt, then opting to explore the waistband of the leggings you're so fond of. "Baby, we--"

"Shhh..." Keizo replies, kissing your cheek and humming. "Don't want to wake the baby by protesting too much, now, do you?" You offer him a short huff of laughter and he draws your waist against him, grinding his erection into your thighs.

He doesn't tell you that he's needed you like this ever since you left the house in a hurry. He doesn't tell you he needs this release as much as you do. He doesn't have to say anything.

"Baby," you purr as a hand dips into your leggings and brushes against your folds. Keizo gasps a little at the amount of warmth that greets him. Without speaking, he nips at your bottom lip and growls low in his throat before slipping a finger into you.

You grip his arms and moan lightly, trying to be quiet. "You're so tight," Keizo notes. You grind down on his hand, rolling your hips back and forth without any prompting. "Yeah," he murmurs in your ear. "I know exactly what you need..."

A whimper catches in your throat, and Keizo leans back against the counter, winding his free hand up your neck and looking you in the eye. "You gonna be good and cum for me?" You nod, and he tightens his grip a little. Just a little. Your eyes open wider, and you gasp, then bite down on your bottom lip. Keizo shushes you as he adds another finger, watching you carefully. Your eyes roll back, and a gush of wetness covers his fingers easily. He pumps his hand back and forth without too much thought - this used to be a lazy Sunday afternoon activity - and you ball your fists into his shirt, trying to keep as quiet as possible.

"You think the neighbors would mind if I opened the shades and let them see you like this?" Keizo feels your fists tighten in his shirt even more, and you lean forward, heat blooming in your cheeks. "You think they'll enjoy seeing you like this? All wet and aroused?"

"Please," you murmur into his chest. "Keizo, please."

"Tell me what you want. Use your big girl words."

"I need you inside of me." His blue eyes shift down to your face, and you're looking up at him through a haze of lust. "Need you in me so bad." He can't resist.

Your leggings are pushed down around your thighs, and Keizo turns you so you're bent over the counter, ass up. Before he can stop himself, he smacks the fleshy part of your ass. Your sharp exhale and his quick movement to muffle your shout of pleasure are executed in perfect sync, and you both remain still for a brief moment, waiting for a sound from Kai.

When it's clear your baby won't stir, Keizo fishes his half-hard cock out and rubs it against your drenched cunt. "Easy, easy, easy," you pant as his cockhead presses against your hole.

"Been a while, ain't it?" he mutters, still pressing into you with as much self-control as he can muster. Admittedly, it's not a lot. When Keizo feels his cock being enveloped by your plush, warm, wet pussy, he can't help but let out a long groan of relief.

His second mind takes over on instinct, and he leans over you, covering your mouth as he sinks even deeper inside. "I'd fuck you on every surface if we were alone," he murmurs, and you shudder when he bottoms out. Keizo easily lifts one of your legs and wraps it around his waist; then his fingers - previously inside of you - go to your clit.

The sounds you make are delicious. For weeks, you'd both been barely hanging on to your sanity while trying to track down Takemichi, and by a stroke of luck, you've got a brief moment alone so a need can be sated.

And by the time Keizo feels his body begin to signal that it's now or never, you've cum on his cock at least three times. "I'm going to cum in you," Keizo whispers in your ear, his breathing strained. "You're going to take every drop, do you understand?" You nod eagerly, and Keizo strokes your hair and smiles. "Good girl."

He quickens his speed, rocking into you as quickly and as quietly as he can. It's not the same when he can't fuck your brains out properly. But after a drought, any form of water will do for a thirsty set of crops, right?

His balls hitch, and Keizo grips your hips so hard he feels like they might crack under the pressure. Stars dance along his vision as he cums, and he clenches his jaw tightly, trying not to grunt and groan as loud as he can.

When he's finished cumming, you continue to flutter your walls around his cock, trying to milk him dry. Keizo allows you to torture him like this for a few moments, but then he sighs, patting your hair lovingly.

"I'm going to pull out and get you cleaned up, princess." You nod silently, and Keizo does as he said he would, making sure the cum dripping down your thighs doesn't make it onto your clothing. He pulls up your underwear and rests a hand against the soft mound of your pussy before kissing your warm cheek. You're recovering slowly but surely, and he helps you move toward the bathroom.

While you use the bathroom, Keizo wipes his face and neck, feeling utterly satisfied after working up such a sweat.

"Now come to bed," he urges you when you emerge, eyes tired and face drawn. You cuddle up next to Keizo and sigh, placing a hand on his chest.

"You're devious," you mutter, already drowsy. "Fucking me back to sleep."

"I had to," Keizo laughs. "You wouldn't go back to sleep any other way." There's a long pause before you murmur,

"Takemichi and Naoto are in town." Keizo nods slowly, his hand roaming up and down your back easily. "We'll go see them tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," he echoes, right as you snuggle into his warmth and fall asleep. "Tomorrow."

[nerdygaymormon]

Navigating Living Waters

Affirmation has a Facebook group titled Living Waters, which is for LGBTQ people, family, & friends who are active in the LDS church. This group is meant to be a place to discuss issues and topics from a believing LDS perspective.

At the 2023 Affirmation International Conference, I was asked to be the presenter for the Living Waters session. 

Church can be challenging for queer people and for those who love us as things get said which hurt. I wanted to help people feel like they have some skills they can use when they encounter these situations. For that reason, I called my session “Navigating Living Waters - Affirming ourselves and drawing boundaries as we navigate life at church and with believers.”

I’m sharing my presentation in the hopes it may be useful to some who were unable to attend the conference. 

————————————————————

"We're not gonna become someone we love by talking to ourselves like we're someone we hate. We're not gonna become the best version of ourselves while treating ourselves like someone who deserves to be punished just for existing. I know it's hard, but have your own back” - Dr. Glenn Patrick Doyle

A big part of what makes church hard for queer people is we repeatedly receive negative and rejecting messages about this part of who we are. Research shows both our mental & physical health are negatively affected as we internalize these messages. How can we handle things when this happens?

It depends on the situation. For example, if a comment is made in Sunday School, we can also make a comment, but Sacrament meeting isn’t interactive. It also depends on you. If you're not out to everyone in the room, then speaking up may not be an option you would choose. Some people's personalities are more introvert or extrovert. Some people have anxiety. There's a lot of variables.

We need to push back against those messages of negativity and discrimination. It's a way of honoring myself. Pushing back may include speaking up, or it may mean replacing those messages to myself with affirming ones.

This past week at my therapy session, I was speaking with my psychologist about an assignment where I identify something I did that day for which I feel accomplished and then say that I'm proud of myself for doing this thing. I told the therapist that it feels hokey. I understand what I'm writing, but I don't feel it. She said while typing or writing are fine, for the brain it's more effective to hear the words spoken. And it's even more powerful to look at my reflection in the mirror and say the words to me. Giving voice to an affirmation has power.

I share that because it’s good to write thoughts to yourself. It’s even better if you’re able to give voice to those thoughts.

If you find yourself in a place where things are being said, but you can’t speak up, one option is to remove yourself from the space. If it's Sacrament Mtg and the speaker is saying things that are hard for you, get up and walk out. You don't have to make a big deal about it, you can quietly slip away. Although, I have seen someone who got up and walked out while making clear they were unhappy with what was being said by making an exasperated noise and shaking their head.

If I’m watching General Conference with family or friends and can’t turn it off, there’s several options available. I can get on my phone to distract myself and check out what people are saying on Twitter and on Tumblr. I could take a bathroom break. If I’m taking notes, I can start writing affirming, positive messages to myself to counter the words being spoken. 

Pushing back against and replacing the rejecting messages is a way to not internalize them. 

Let's say we're in a classroom situation and something discriminatory is said about queer people. Many of us choose to be silent, to be passive and let the comment go unchallenged. At church it seems like we’re socialized to not make other people feel uncomfortable even as they are saying things which are hurting us. We don't have to let the comment go unchallenged, but you have to weigh whether the situation is one where you can safely push back. 

We don't want to respond with violence or threats, we don't want to dehumanize the other person, we don't want to inflict trauma on them. If we do that, then for many, our voice loses its legitimacy. We can be affirming of ourselves without demeaning others. We're taught to do unto others as we want done to ourselves, so let's respond in a way that treats others how we deserve to be treated. 

We want to challenge their ideas and assumptions. We want to make them aware of other experiences and ways of thinking. We want to point out the negative messages they are conveying. 

It helps if we assume they have good intentions and didn’t realize what they said could be understood in a way that hurt others. We are trusting that we can reach their humanity.

We can respond by building on common ground. 

We can use “I” statements to share our feelings and our experience. "I" statements can begin with “My experience is…,” or “I think…” It’s hard for someone to argue that you don’t have those experiences, thoughts or feelings. When we open up and make ourselves vulnerable, usually others will react positively and they let down their guard, too.

Let me give you an example. Let's say we're in Sunday School class and the topic is prophets. Someone in the class says “I’m happy for the guidance of prophets because thanks to them we have the Proclamation which tells us what a true family looks like.” 

<Gulp> Do I let that slide? 

Here's one way I could respond. Remember, I'm looking to build on common ground and use "I" statements.

“I’m also glad for prophets and the hope they give us, but it’s important to think of how things like the Proclamation apply to our own situation. The Proclamation speaks of ideals but not everyone's lives fit those. I have friends who are single parents and it’s important they know that God loves their families, too.” 

Another example is, "I am glad for prophets and as a queer person, I've been noticing them more and more teaching that we need to include and love everyone. While the Proclamation contains ideals that work for your family, I read it and wonder ‘Where do I fit in? What is God's purpose for my life?’” 

I built on the common ground of prophets, but then I pivoted.  

By speaking up, you're inviting everyone in the room to consider this point of view which they may not have considered. Maybe they have never imagined how the Proclamation may be hurtful to people in different situations. 

Another approach is to appeal to a gospel principle, like “Love your neighbor.” 

Let me share a few comments that can be used in a variety of situations.

“I don’t know about that, but what I do know is I’m supposed to love my neighbor. If I have to choose, I’d rather err on the side of being too loving than of not being loving enough.”

“My experience is these are real people with real feelings. If anyone in this room is part of the queer community, I want you to know you’re loved. God loves you and I love you.”

"The church's Handbook says all are to be welcomed and treated with kindness, and so I’m going to follow that advice.”

These phrases challenge the narrative that was being put forward and makes clear that not everyone agrees with what was being said. It shows there’s more than one way to think about these things. For anyone who might be in the closet or who has friends or family members who are queer, they will now know you’re a safe person to talk to.

I have one friend who, when the teacher asks, "What is something evil that people call good?" she will raise her hand and blurt out "homophobia!" She doesn't wait to get called on because by going first, she sets the standard. She says when she gives this answer, usually every hand lowers. They all were going to say something like gay marriage or being trans or something like that. Now the other class members can't give their answer because they don't want to be seen as doing exactly what has just been called out as an evil.

————————————————————

At this point, I asked them to pair up into groups of 2 or 3 and I gave them a list of possible comments they might hear. I asked them to practice responding. It’s a safe space and they can get feedback and retry. When they do experience a situation where they want to respond to a comment, they’ll have this experience.

Here’s the comments I gave them to respond to:

A man says he wishes that as a kid he’d heard of being transgender, because he would’ve used that to get into the girls’ locker room

A person saying it’s abuse when parents allow a transgender person to transition

When a person says they’re disgusted by affection shown between a same-gender couple

A parent says she’s uncomfortable having a lesbian as her child’s Primary teacher

Being told we should not identify as gay

Being told they love and accept us, but don’t tell anyone else you’re bi

LGBTQ+ people are that way because of bad parenting, or sexual assault, or something they saw on TV

Children deserve a mother and a father

Gay people are loved less by God because they persist in living a sinful life

————————————————————

Here's another suggestion to hopefully stop these types of negative comments from happening in the first place. If you see that the topic for an upcoming class may have the possibility for anti-LGBTQ comments to be made, you can contact the teacher about your concerns. 

"Hi. I noticed this week's Come Follow Me includes some verses people may use to say unkind things about LGBTQ people, and I was wondering if you've thought of that and how you might keep that from happening, or how you could respond if it does happen?" 

Let's say the class is assigned a conference talk that has anti-queer things said in it. You could contact the teacher and volunteer to share some of your thoughts with the class and see if the teacher agrees to that. Be ready to share what you’d like to say as it will help the teacher feel comfortable accepting your offer. For example, I might share this in a class:

“The church is imperfect. In this mortal world, that is how it is. But one thing I’ve learned is that there’s more room for me in the plan of salvation than there is in the closet. The messages I get from God are wonderful and I wish the church and my orientation were more compatible because I don't feel like I'm incompatible with God. The past few decades have shown the church is on a trajectory to be more inclusive and understanding, and that gives me hope. I know we're reading the words of an apostle, and I won't challenge what he is saying, he has every right to teach these things, but I know in my heart that the way I feel when I hear these words is lesser than, like I'm excluded, and I don't feel that way with God. I'm choosing to be here for the hope I find here and the good things church does in my life. Thank you for letting me share my perspective.”

Okay, so we talked about several strategies. 

You can remove yourself from the space where negative things are being said. 

You can choose to think or write affirming messages to replace the ones you are hearing. 

You can make a comment to affirm yourself. 

You can preemptively contact the teacher. 

—————————

The other topic I’m addressing today is boundaries. It’s okay to draw boundaries, you don’t have to share everything just because someone asked. I have family I love but they view being queer differently from me, and so for the sake of our relationship it helps for me to have some boundaries. 

The purpose of a boundary is to keep ourselves safe, to do that we draw boundaries around the mental, physical, behavioral and spiritual aspects of our lives.

While I think people understand the reasons for having boundaries, sometimes the hard part is knowing how to state the boundary. I’m passing out a handout with a number of phrases that may be useful. These are suggestions, hopefully they’ll spark ideas of additional phrases you can use.

I appreciate the gesture, but in the future I'd prefer...

I'm not prepared to discuss this any longer. Let’s take a break so I can collect my thoughts

Thank you for your concern about my child's behavior, I'll take it from here

That question is too personal. I won't be answering it

I feel undermined when you bring this up in front of everyone. Next time, please talk to me about it in private

I would appreciate it if you didn’t talk to my mom about my private life

Thank you for your opinion, but I’m confident in my opinion

Why would you ask me that, does that seem appropriate? Would you be comfortable answering such personal questions about your life?

This isn’t a productive conversation. I’m not responding any more

I appreciate you asking, but that information is readily available on Google. I suggest you start there

Remember, this is not a negotiation, we aren't discussing where the boundaries should be. You're letting them know what your boundaries are. 

I don't know if it's particular to our culture, but it seems Latter-day Saints regularly say and ask about topics that maybe they shouldn't, especially if they don't know you well. If they try to continue on after you've expressed your boundary, you restate the boundary

I appreciate your concern, but as I said, I'm not prepared to discuss this any longer

I've politely asked not to discuss XYZ, if you do again then I will...(leave, end this conversation, ask to be transferred, speak with the Relief Society president, etc)

—————————

As a queer person, or as someone who loves a queer person, church can be complicated, yet there are a lot of reasons why someone chooses to continue to engage with church. I hope that you leave today’s session feeling like you have some methods that will help as you navigate these spaces.

[tokiro07]

Did a Medaka vs. Andy post a while back, now it's time for Hitoyoshi vs. Fuuko

First off, I think it's important to establish what everyone's working with:

We'll be assuming they're at their peak, so L101 Fuuko and post-Ajimu Hitoyoshi

Fuuko's got G-Liner, her two guns, and 200+ years of Shin Hakkyoku experience

Hitoyoshi has up to 20 years of Savate experience, Devil Style and Altered God Mode: Model Zenkichi, but consequently does not have Parasite Seeing, as it was changed from a skill that let him see from other's perspectives into a skill that lets him see his own limitations. He also does not have access to Contradictory Conjunction Style, as that was a temporary ability that he was essentially borrowing

With this in mind, I think we can get a good idea of the flow of the battle

As demonstrated in his fight with Munakata, Hitoyoshi is skilled in disarming and dismantling guns, so we can reasonably assume that the moment Fuuko brings out the guns, she's losing them

Hitoyoshi is able to keep up with Medaka physically, who we can reasonably assume is above world-champion-level fighters given The End, so even if he needs to use AGM match her actual strength, Hitoyoshi should feasibly be able to fight on par with Fuuko, who is able to defeat world-champion boxers and kung-fu masters

If their physiology and technique lead to a stalemate, the battle comes down to their powers - Unluck vs. Devil Style

Immediately, Devil Style counters Unluck by negating Hitoyoshi's luck preemptively: under its effects, no good or bad luck can occur around Hitoyoshi, meaning that no matter how much affect Fuuko feels for him, there will not coincidentally be a source of Unluck to draw in

Even if there was, the current interpretation of Unluck is that it takes away the luck that a person has within them; if Hitoyoshi has "zero" luck rather than, say, 10 luck to prevent disasters, then his existing luck cannot be taken away and he cannot be made vulnerable to the disasters summoned by Fuuko

However, if Fuuko were to realize that Hitoyoshi's view of luck is "good luck=positive, bad luck=negative" rather than her interpretation of "good luck = >1, bad luck = 0," she could theoretically use Unluck to drag Hitoyoshi into the negative

Moreover, since Devil Style merely prevents acts of fate, it has no impact on the direct results of deliberate actions - in other words, if Fuuko does not rely on the random factor of Unluck and instead sets up a specific sequence of Unlucky events to draw in, then her efforts to enforce Unluck on Hitoyoshi will be rewarded so long as he himself is unable to thwart them

While this makes Unluck like meteors or earthquakes much more difficult if not impossible, it makes sources like slipping on liquids that Fuuko purposefully spilled in the vicinity very plausible and simple to execute so long as she already has access to them

Of course, we have to consider Hitoyoshi's interpretation of Unluck as well - if Fuuko's efforts to draw in Unluck are to be rewarded, then the mere existence of meteors should make them something that she can reasonably incorporate into her strategies. Since Hitoyoshi isn't the type to accept a handicap in a fight, he would likely never deliberately prevent Fuuko from fighting to her full capacity. He may need to learn the mechanics first to allow it to happen, but since Devil Style is meant to be a way for him to prove that he's capable of overcoming foes on his own and without relying on nebulous concepts like fate, then defeating an enemy who manipulates fate would be the ultimate proof of his fighting abilities

From there, it's just a question of what the writer in question wants: do they want Fuuko's ability to understand others to win the day, or Hitoyoshi's ability to overcome any obstacle under his own power? Either way, it's unavoidable that by the end, Fuuko's Unluck would be in full swing, it's just a matter of whether Hitoyoshi can personally find a way to avoid it. Perhaps he'd manipulate Fuuko's Unluck against her, deliberately taking a second dose to summon another meteor that would collide with the first and destroy them both?

Again, like with Medaka vs. Andy, pick your favorite to win, but know that in my head, they both come out of it as friends because of how hard they pushed each other