#i know i'm beating a dead horse but still...

[the-irreverend]

How everyone reacted to Tumblr Live being discontinued:

[awkward-yet-kind]

I hate, LOATHE that Levi gets grouped in with characters that don't 'get' emotions. It's so wrong, so counter to what is easily observed about him as a character. He gets emotions, he has a mountain of empathy and is great at reading and understanding people. What he actually suffers from is not a lack of emotion, but trauma. Trauma that forced him to become rough around the edges to survive. Trauma that stunted his social skills and ability to fully express himself. Trauma that led him to build a near-impenetrable fortress around his heart and keeping his own emotions under tight lock and key. I could go on. But GOD is Levi criminally misinterpreted. He is a deeply emotional character, but the constant wave of harsh experiences in his life make outwardly showing it difficult, if not impossible at times.

Levi is a hardened character, not an emotionally lacking one.

[thefirstknife]

rip gambit you will be missed 😔

Don't even know what to say tbh.

For those that don't know, the big State of the Game article came out detailing incoming changes and adjustments and all the big stuff. Gambit was mentioned! But at what cost. Basically, they are ceasing any kind of support for Gambit. What we have now is what it is. We will get the Dreaming City map back in TFS and they will add Shadow Legion and Lucent Hive as enemy factions in TFS. That's all.

Full text:

As many of you have noticed, we’ve been quiet on Gambit since last year’s overhaul that launched alongside The Witch Queen. In that revamp, the team made significant changes across five categories in Gambit: core activity fundamentals, Primeval tuning, invasions, ammo economy, and rewards. Unfortunately, these updates didn’t move the needle for player engagement. Although we know our Gambit fans mostly care about new or returning maps, this is an area of the game with lower engagement that would take resources away from more popular parts of the game to shore up.   While we don’t have plans to dedicate more resources to significantly transform Gambit, we do have a few updates planned for the year of The Final Shape. These include porting the Cathedral of Scars map and its beautiful Dreaming City setting into the latest version of Destiny 2, as well as adding the Shadow Legion and Lucent Hive enemy types. 

I don't know how to tell you this Bungie, but the reason "engagement is low" in Gambit is because Gambit sucks. Ever since half of it was removed with DCV, it just sucked. It has no variety, the gameplay is largely busted, it's not sufficiently updated, ammo changes suck, invasion cycle sucks (why is the enemy even getting a portal when their Primeval is at 5% health and the other team is still in mote collecting phase is beyond me), there are no cool armour sets to chase (just look at Iron Banner and Trials stuff, imagine dedicated cosmetics) and finally there are simply no weapons that are worth anything. Both Vanguard and Crucible have more weapons and also adept versions. There is zero reason to go into Gambit without major changes to Gambit. And now with the further changes to how playlists and challenges will work, there will be even less reason to go into Gambit. Observe:

Before then, we’re making Gambit entirely optional to maximize your rewards unless you’re looking for a piece of gear that’s specific to the mode. Gambit will continue to serve as a source of Exotic engrams via weekly challenges, though as we mentioned above, you’ll be able to complete all your weekly challenges in any ritual you’d like starting in Season 22. If you want to stick to Vanguard or Crucible challenges without touching Gambit, now you can.  We’re also reducing the number of Gambit-specific Seasonal Challenges starting in Season 22, so players won’t need to bank motes to be able to earn that big purse of Bright Dust for completing nearly every challenge in the Season. Finally, we’re adding Fireteam Matchmaking to Gambit next Season, which will replace the Freelance node and should result in faster, better matchmaking by combining both Gambit playlists. We’ll keep an eye on reception and player engagement after these additions take place, and we hope you’ll visit ‘ol Drifter next Season to get your hands on his new Void Machine Gun. 

Ngl, but I don't think anyone besides like a total of 6 people will play Gambit next season. The incentive to go in there is completely removed. You won't even have to go in there for pinnacles or for challenges. The Void Machine Gun will not be enough of an incentive because the chance of that gun being better than two recently available craftable Void Machine Guns (Commemoration and Retrofit Escapade) is very low. And besides, once you get it at the end of your first match, you can leave Gambit forever.

This is the feedback loop that just reinforces the idea that people don't like Gambit. And I mean. Who would at this point. I'm pretty sure that if Crucible had stayed the same as it was at the start of Beyond Light, engagement would be low there too. But you know. Crucible has received major updates pretty much every season since with multiple new modes, several Trials overhauls, Iron Banner overhaul, competitive overhaul, new armours and weapons added and YES, even new maps. God forbid even 5% of these resources went into Gambit.

Anyway, this is the whole section about Gambit in 6500 words. It's basically a "you guys aren't playing this so we're doing the bare minimum of keeping it in the game as is, no new work will be done on it ever." Thanks I guess.

And for the record, something I also added while having a rant in my discord, I want to make it clear that I don't want anyone to spiral into a Bungie hate train. Even for this. I understand perfectly well what's the community attitude towards Gambit and what it's been for years now. People just don't like it and they're not incentivised to like it and they're actively encouraged to hate it. Spending resources into a game mode on the hope that maybe you can change people's minds would be insanity. Like, the amount of change Gambit would need to MAYBE start appealing to gamers would be beyond any reasonable time and resources Bungie can put in. And if you could guarantee that people would love and play Gambit then, fine. But you can't. Most likely, even if major changes happened, people would still just do their weekly stuff and bail. It's simply not worth it. In order for people to like it, it needs to be completely and thoroughly overhauled in a way that would need more time and effort than the entire Light subclass overhaul and it's just not a reasonable expectation, nor is it guaranteed to work. So I get it.

I'm still disappointed and annoyed about it because I believe it wasn't given a fair chance at all. I also know how good it can be and how Gambit Prime could've been improved upon over the years if they tried. Instead, it got removed and that was honestly the death sentence for Gambit. It's unfortunate. It's my favourite game mode that could've been so much better was it given even a fraction of attention of Crucible.

I'll still be playing it. You will find me in the Gambit queue waiting for 2 hours to find 7 other lunatics to play with, don't worry about it. But I'm absolutely incredibly sad about them being basically forced to axe the potential of the whole game mode that is incredibly creative and fits with the type of game Destiny is perfectly.

There's other interesting stuff in the article and some upcoming really cool improvements and changes to the game. But if you're a fan of Gambit in any capacity, this is a death certificate for the mode. I suggest coming to terms with it quickly because Bungie changing their minds about this is highly unlikely.

[randomnameless]

I did Crimson Flower first in my Three Houses run and... honestly, Edelgard wasn't even remotely as convincing to me to join her as the fact I'd get to fuck Jeritza.

Beresu I've chosen for the job grew up in Ardesian Empire and I've definitely leaned into Ashen Demon idea as much as possible, so what I've got was a merciless butcher, not a revolutionary firebrand. I expected Edelgard to be this scary red emperor with the grand ideas that justify the means, I expected the vibe of Nine Inch Nails' Survivalism, but instead she's an absolute dork and Hubert does everything morally dubious for her. It reminded me of Corrin in Fates on Nohr path and it definitely did not endear me to her.

Generally speaking the only interesting bits were Jeritza (love this man, best girl) and... maybe Hubert. Honestly speaking, with the way Hubert acts I expected him to be a Flame Emperor after seeing Edelgard. I just genuinely don't get how Crimson Flower Edelgard can be even remotely convincing - she's scary in White Clouds at times, but then it's nothing but dork, dork, dork, Beresu I hate rats, Beresu my path is stained in blood despite the fact I can barely reach any enemy in my automatic promotes and Hubert, Jeritza and you kill most of the enemies instead.

She's idealistic, but it's never really shown how much she's willing to mow down people for her ideals - we don't see destruction, we don't see any particular drama. The only bits closest to it were me deliberately not recruiting any non-BE students aside from Mercedes, Anette, Marianne and Lorenz. Killing these students felt like something, but it isn't really enough and it's entirely optional.

she's scary in White Clouds at times, but then it's nothing but dork, dork, dork, Beresu I hate rats, Beresu my path is stained in blood despite the fact I can barely reach any enemy in my automatic promotes and Hubert, Jeritza and you kill most of the enemies instead

LOL

I don't remember having the same movement issues with Hector when he was promoted, but damn if Supreme Leader's prf class was a nightmare, she was behind people and didn't have enough def to act as a suitable tank - she's supposed to be a player phase unit, but she doesn't have the mov stat to do so...

Granted, it was my first run too, so I missed on the heron festival event and didn't get a dancer :( but I played it before Emile was patched in, and, in a way, I thought it was on purpose - Supreme Leader says she'll explain everything to Billy later on, when they see Emile fighting with them when the BESF attacks the Monastery, and nothing is ever explained post TS - much like how the war was supposed to get rid of Rhea because she has scales, but come the post TS and we're not embarking on the MAGA ride, to conquer Fodlan!

Corn at least, in Conquest, spent more time angsting at the casualties and blood shed - to the point some players found it uncomfortable - Corn notable tried to save people or reacts strongly when Scarlet is Hans'd (just like Sakura's army? I don't remember that well).

It's less artificial than Supreme Leader who only says this in some support lines, or when she's alone with you - her lines feels more like a compulsory thing to say, a box to tick, than a regular reaction. There's nothing similar to Corn's distress or at least gambit to try to spare the defeated soldiers, instead, we have a round of hypocrisy because Rhea BaD when she doesn't let people evacuate the city before turning it in a giant bbq - when we have Emile on our side and when other routes reveal the battle of the Monastery happens so fast after her declaration of war that the CoS doesn't have time to evacuate all of its residents (+Emile saying the grounds around the monastery are battlefields too) in the other routes.

Hubert is still the best part of CF, even if I sort of grew somehow interested at the students insulting Billy when they chop them off - sure my interest later died, but Judith's JP VA lit screaming and crying when Ignatz and Leonie died, Inoue!Rhea's lines delivery, everything bar the BESF itself managed to make the "we must kille people we knew sad uwus" hit closer to the mark than the onion scene, aka the one where Supreme Leader cries after beheading a defeated, and on his knees, Dimitri.

But I agree, it's almost if all the pathos that was supposed to be triggered by the "kill your students :'(" from the game went to the CF enemies, rather than to the other routes casualties.

"We killed Ferdie professor :("

Watch as I gave a fig, Ferdie dies in a map where he is fielded with a Demonic Beast iirc, aka a Feral One. If Ferdie doesn't see anything wrong fighting side by side with a Feral One and doesn't have the same circumstances Lorenz does (granted, even those circumstances are mushy) - especially since it's possible for Ferdie to defect since that's what he does in SS - I legit feel less figs that when we had to kill a retreating Judith, or an Ignatz or Leonie who were defending their homes - hell, even Hilda who, against all of her words and previous behaviour - finally puts her life on the line to protect someone.

[xitty]

Hmph, just saw a post of someone saying they were annoyed how some people criticized Heartstopper for being too PG because not all teenagers think about sex and/or experiment with things etc. (and that's right, believe it or not, teenagers aren't a monolith!).

I'm sure some, even many, people did say that but that's not the core problem with it. Having only kissing and cuddling and cute and wholesome content is totally fine. The problem is the creator saying it's better for it, that it's better because it doesn't have "filthy" stuff.

I think some people mixed up the message a little and because it's fun to join a bashing, they missed the point why other people had problem with Heartstopper, i.e. the problem was with the author, not the work itself necessarily.

[aftermathing]

I'm in so much pain it's embarrassing. I'm going to look back on these memories of me writhing alone too afraid to sleep biting my knuckles crying about nothing and laugh.

[leeminholinoing]

ok like i just read that ask regarding babygate and who’s the bigger asshole….

I won’t say he LooOkS liKE LoUiS but he resembles some Tomlinson features ENOUGH to pass that shit off as the steaming pile of crap it is

antis are stupid and they only believe it bc he has blue eyes? cause that child doesn't look like louis at all for me.

this is what louis looked like around the same age

there's a reason he looked extremely out of place in this picture. everyone can tell he doesn't share one gene with the rest of the tomlinsons

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

LMFAO what are these cable tv writers ON

[anonymous-vr]

Self Discipline

Summary:

It's easy to keep your legs closed.

6.3k words

Bakugou x fem/reader

Warnings:

Smut

MDNI!

Author's Word:

My first post on here, enjoy.

-Anonymous-vr

Your suitcase, meticulously packed with essentials for a week, stood as a silent testament to the internship you had tirelessly pursued. As summer draped its warmth over Japan, you felt both drained and invigorated by the experience. The city buzzed with life as you navigated its streets, your tenacious attitude pushing you through every challenge. After finishing your internship, you promised to visit your mother soon after. Her mama-bear nature refuses to let you relish your life without a consistent visit.

In a world where humans are equipped with powers, life-threatening events constantly take place around you. You were thankful nothing happened to you, though you could never be too sure. "Please be safe on the road home." Your mother spoke eagerly on the phone, excited to see her only child. Your reassurance did nothing to calm her nerves though, it never did. "Remember when you told me I needed to get out more? Well, your mama is hosting a get-together. It'll be in the garden. I'm in a club dedicated to mothers with only one child." You couldn't help but chuckle over the phone. Having a mother who refused to get out and meet others was a burden for you, it made leaving so much more difficult. "You can tell me more when I get home Mom.".

The three-hour drive always took a toll on your body as you began to re-enter the city halfway through. Traffic was always hectic this time of year as some traveled away and others went home in the town. You sighed a sigh of relief once you parked in front of your small childhood home. It was small but you loved it. Its eggshell exterior makes a great contrast with the brick guiding visitors inside. The flowers you'd watched your mother plant running up the gate and greeting your fingers as you pushed inside. The slightly rusty gate creaked as you pulled your suitcase behind you. It took two knocks before the front door was yanked open and you were engulfed by your mother's arms.

"You don't know how much I've missed you around here." You followed her inside before making your way to your old bedroom. "I've missed you too Mom, more than you know. Tell me more about this event you're hosting though." You unpacked your suitcase as she detailed the gathering she'd put together. "Wow Mom, you've invited twenty-nine people over? That's insane considering your introverted nature." "I know but I really wanted to listen to you and push myself out there. Now I know twenty-nine other mothers who are also dealing with some sort of separation anxiety. A mother I've grown close to has a son I'm sure you'd get along with." You turned to raise a brow at your mom.

You were successful in almost every aspect of your life, not to her. Your life was too busy for romance, and she pitied you. The story of her and your father constantly brought up to try and ignite something within you, it never worked though. Father passed away when you were still young, romance was never something that you'd seen first-hand growing up. The only depictions of love shown were on TV, and the popular sitcoms portrayed it as fairly difficult to obtain.

"Mom, you know I'm too busy to entertain the thought of having a boyfriend." Having this conversation was like beating a dead horse. "Well, his mother has described him as a very well-known and handsome man. At least be open about this, for me? I don't want you old and alone like me." You let out a soft sigh before pulling your mother in for a warm, and much-needed, hug. "I'll be open but I can't make any promises."

As the setting of the Sun painted the sky with stars, you sunk into your bed and fell asleep. Your rest wasn't fulfilling as you knew you'd need to wake up in enough time to make yourself look appropriate. The nagging thought of this mystery man also kept you pondering throughout the night.

As morning slowly approached, you sadly got out of bed and got dressed. The smell of food filled the little house as your mother prepared snacks for the guests. Pulling on a floral sundress and a pair of kitten heels, you rush out of your room just in time. Looking outside, it seemed as though guests had already arrived. A majority of the mothers had brought their children along with them. They all exuded motherly pride as they finally had the chance to show off the child they'd described over the past few months.

"This is my only child y/n." Your mother gushed as she hugged onto your arm. Chatter started as the other mothers introduced themselves and reached to shake your hand. As everyone began to mingle, you found yourself watching from the sides. As much as you told your mother to get out of her shell, you felt ashamed now as she left to speak to the other mothers. Your phone became enticing, luring you in as you drowned out the world and began checking emails. You weren't sure how much time had passed before you were interrupted by the sound of your mother's voice approaching you again.

"This is my daughter!" Looking up, you were met with an ash-blonde-haired woman. "Well, aren't you a beauty? I'd always wished for a daughter. Instead, I was given that thing over there." She chuckled as her thumb directed you to the scowling man hunched over at a table. He looked identical to his mother, his ash-blonde hair and eyes a piercing crimson color. Turning his gaze toward the three of you, you quickly looked away. "I'm sure he's great." The lie was forced through your teeth, he looks extremely intimidating. "No need to lie, I told him to dress nicely, and he comes out in jeans and a black top. Ignorant just like his father." The two women moved to sit and chat.

Your gaze couldn't help but flicker from the man across the garden. His black shirt curled around his body, displaying his muscles. His big stature exuded confidence as though he owned the place. He looked awfully familiar, like someone you'd seen in the news. Growing up in a small town, you were often isolated from the flashy aspects of city living. You knew of a few celebrities and heroes but never anything up to date. The only new-gen hero you knew about was Deku, you were a big fan. A few of his posters were plastered on your wall from your early college years.

Shaking your gaze from the man, you decided to go inside for a drink of water. The beams of the sun had finally won. As you moved inside, you could feel the eyes of the man on your back as you smiled at a few guests in your path. Once inside, peace washed over you. You were an introvert just like your mom, this newfound inner peace came after you'd graduated from college. At age twenty-two, you were more inclined to spend more time alone than with others. You sipped on a cup of water as you pulled up your phone and scrolled through a few documents you were meant to review.

The sound of the back door opening and closing caught your attention as you placed your phone on the counter. No one was meant to be inside the house, so you assumed it was your mom. "Mom, does your friend's son look familiar? I feel like I've seen him somewhere before." You spoke out loud as your gaze moved outside the window to look at the man again. You were shocked when you couldn't find him though, instead being met with the eyes of your mother as she continued to chat with the others. Face falling in confusion, you swiveled around to be met with the intimidating man. Embarrassed, your eyes widened as you stood awkwardly.

"Y'know where the bathroom is?" He questioned with a stoic look on his face. He held no shame as his demanding eyes bore into yours, expecting an answer. Technically, no one was meant to be inside the house. There was only one bathroom, it was shared by you and your mother. "I uh- It's right down the hall to the left." Your voice was an unusual octave as the older man watched you squirm. He raised an eyebrow at you, his head tilting to an angle. "So, you just let anyone walk through your house alone?" The question had caught you off guard, you'd expected him to leave once given directions. "I'm sorry but um, what do you mean?" He shook his head, obviously annoyed by your ignorance. "You don't know me and you're gonna let me wander your house. Just because you give me directions, doesn't mean I'm gonna follow them. This is why you dumb extras are always in dumb situations."

Your face dropped as you rushed from your spot in the kitchen. His booming voice further intimidates you as you guide him through the house and to the bathroom. His presence was large and strong as he walked behind you. He gave you a lackluster "Thanks" before shutting the door behind him.

Bakugou unzipped his pants and did his business as he looked around your bathroom. The sink was crowded with perfumes, makeup, dental care, and hair items. The soft pink shower curtain was slightly opened, giving him a view into your clean shower. This was definitely a woman's house. It was definitely messier than his bathroom though. He always prioritized having a clean space as it helped him think better. Being the number two hero, he couldn't allow his space to reflect his busy schedule.

Finishing his business, he washed his hands while looking in the mirror. Today was his first day off in two weeks and his mother had forced him to spend it at this get-together. He was upset but understood the importance of keeping a tight-knit relationship with his parents. "There's a girl I want you to meet at this get-together. She's a sweet thing, based on what her mother's said. I spoke positively about you so try your best to uphold what I've said." His mother's words annoyed him, she constantly meddled in his love life as she wanted grandkids sooner than later. Being a busy hero though, he knew he had little to no time for a relationship. He entertained his mother and agreed to attend, promising to be on his best behavior.

As he left the bedroom, he realized you were no longer in front of the door. "Dumb ass, just let strangers wander her house alone." He grumbled before glancing at the bedroom across the hall. He knew it had to be yours. Floral wallpaper, a soft pink rug, and a white bed standing in his vision. His curiosity getting the best of him, he stepped into your room and looked around. A scowl formed on his face at the sight of Deku, his face plastered on a poster you'd neatly taped on your wall. Despite the ridiculous number of knick-knacks, your room was fairly clean.

You'd gone to the kitchen once the bathroom door shut, eagerly grabbing your cup of water to calm yourself. The man seemed even more familiar after speaking to him, his temperamental energy scratching your brain. After texting an old friend and chugging down your water, you walked back down the hallway to find the man. Reaching the bathroom, your brows furrowed at the emptiness. "Um...excuse me?" You called out, hoping for a reply. Maybe he'd found his way back outside. The thought was brushed away though when his voice replied from your bedroom. Heart falling to your ass, you turned around and rushed to your room.

The tall man looked out of place in your childhood room. "This um...this isn't the way back outside." Your reply was stupid, and you mentally cursed yourself for it. "Yeah, I figured. What's with the poster?" His finger pointed to the old poster on your wall. "Oh, it's old, I put that up during my sophomore year of college." You weren't sure why, but you could feel irritation shimmer off his body. "Do you...not like Deku?" A low grumble left his lips as his brows furrowed. "D'you not know who I am or something?" His head turned so his eyes could look at you. You were pathetic, standing timidly in your own room. Your form was much smaller than his, the kitten heels doing little to boost your height.

"I'm sorry." Was all you could get out as the man studied you. His presence made you feel foreign in your own house. Your answer made him turn to fully face you. "You're serious, you don't know who I am?" Words failing, you shook your head no. It pissed him off, Deku's face plastered on your wall, and you didn't know who Bakugou was. It didn't surprise him though considering how small your town was. "You livin' under a fuckin rock or what?" Poison was laced in his words as he stepped closer to you, his cologne slowly sweeping from his body up your nostrils. Your eyes widened as he stalked closer to you, seeming to not care about personal space. "I-should I know who you are?" "Damn right, you should, you're standing in front of the number two hero." With that, everything fell into place. No wonder he seemed so familiar. The hero Dynamight was standing in your room.

"There we go, that little brain finally working huh?" you stumbled over your words as you apologized profusely, something he seemed to enjoy as his signature smirk spread across his face. "So what, Dynamight was never good enough to plaster on your walls?" Your jumbled words began falling again as you tried to explain your reasoning. "This is so embarrassing" You mumbled as your blushing face fell into your hands. You never expected this turn of events, unprepared for his persistent personality. He chuckled as he sat down on your bed. You continued to stand, too nervous to sit next to the towering hero. "So, what's it like being a hero?" you questioned, fiddling with your fingers nervously. He caught onto your nervous habits though, scoffing as you shrunk under his gaze. "Relax, I'm not gonna blow your head off or anything." Your arms immediately fell to your sides as you stood awkwardly. "It's hard work, a lot of hard work. I love my job though." His answer didn't give much detail, but you still appreciated it.

"What exactly... brings you to this part of town? With how busy you must be, I can't help but wonder how you have the time to come to such an underwhelming get-together." "My mom wanted me to come so I came. Something about wanting to introduce me to some woman's daughter." Your face flushed as you began to avoid his eye contact. Picking up on your body language, mentally cursed his mom for putting him in this predicament. "I'm assuming that daughter is you." Your silence was enough of an answer for him. "I promise I wasn't in on this; I was told the same thing you were. Besides, I'm not interested in finding a relationship since I'm too busy with work. I've gone twenty-two years without one so I'm sure I'll survive." Your words sprinted from your mouth as you tried to cut through the awkward tension.

Bakugou scoffed at your jumbled words. "Were you a sheltered little brat or what? You've never been in a relationship before?" He was surprised a girl like you had never been in a relationship before. Your pretty hair was gathered in a low bun, a few pieces framing your innocent face. He watched as you nervously pulled your glossy bottom lip between your teeth. "I never saw the point of it." Your reply was a lame excuse, it was true though. "You ever try having sex?" His question was extremely inappropriate and blunt. The blood rose to your face as your eyes averted away from his. "Of course not if I've never been in a relationship." He let out a deep chuckle, shifting slightly on your bed. You were an innocent little thing. Living in the city, he was used to bold and experienced women who threw themselves at him. You were the complete opposite though, avoiding his gaze and presenting yourself as a modest little thing.

"You never heard of a hook-up?" His question made you look stupid as he stared at you confused. "I-I-I yeah, I mean. I'd never do that." He cut you off with another scoff. "What, you too good for that too?" "That's not what I'm saying I just-" Your fingers began twiddling together again as you spoke, nerves shooting through your body. "I just don't participate in those types of activities." "Come here." His hand patted the bed, signaling the spot next to him. Hesitating, you force your body to move. The bed creaked underneath the weight of you and the pro hero. His eyes glazed over your face and body as you stared straight ahead. His heat radiated off of him and it made you shift. Bakugou was a very handsome man, his blonde locs sitting disheveled on his head. His hair color complimented the intensity of his red eyes. All elements of him accessorizing the Godly build he had beneath his clothes. He was a man to be admired, you refused to give in though.

"So, you just walk around looking all dolled up to reject every man showing interest." Turning to face him, you took in the change of his demeanor. "I mean yeah, nicely of course." His gaze stayed on you, watching as your body squirmed beneath his eyes. "I don't know how you live like that, especially considering how good it feels." "It's honestly not that hard to keep your legs closed." Your reply was snobbish as if you were above the idea of having sex. "Is it easy or have you just not met a man that makes your hands sweat." "No, I've met my handful of handsome men. I just choose not to partake. I personally have great self-discipline."

Bakugou took your words as a challenge. While you thought it made you look like a dignified and "respectable" woman, Bakugou saw you as a snobby, arrogant, cocky prick. The need to show you that you were no better than those who'd partaken in others grew in his chest as he watched you stick your nose in the air. "What a snotty little bitch you are." He spat the words out, emphasizing the title as you whipped your head to look at him. "What did you just call me?" You didn't care if he was a pro hero or not, you didn't tolerate that kind of name-calling. "You heard me, walking around here like you're better than everyone else. You're just as human as your peers, we've all got desires. I'll be damned if I sit here and let you lie to my face like I'm some dunce. Either you're lying or you really haven't found the right extra to pull those panties to the side and fuck you."

His words were nasty beyond your tolerance. You couldn't help the blood that rushed up your chest, no one had spoken to you like that before. Oddly enough, you couldn't help but squeeze your thighs together. The mental battle in your head kept you dazed as you couldn't understand why your body reacted to his words. "Fuckin virgins runnin' around thinking they're better than everyone else until they're dicked down." Your movements didn't go unnoticed by the pro, his eyes easily picked up on the way your thighs rubbed together beneath your sun dress. He let out a low chuckle at this. "See, all it took was a couple of words to get you hot and bothered." Your mouth opened and closed in defense as you looked for words. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

He was tired of your act, ready to humble you back where you belong. His sharp canines showed, and his big hand reached out and rested on your thigh. Blood pooled in the area where his hand sat, you weren't used to being touched by others. His eyes watched your reaction as you did nothing to push his touch away, instead keeping your shocked eyes on his. "What's wrong? Searching for that self-discipline? I've got you red in the face and I haven't even touched you yet." The 'yet' at the end of his sentence had your mind spinning. "Of course you'd let me touch you though, the dumb men in this town could never meet your expectations, right?" His hand began to move as he shifted his body to face yours. "Answer me." He demanded, hand moving to your waist. "N-No that's not it at all." His hand slightly squeezed your thigh causing a soft yelp to fall from your lips. "Give me the right answer." You sighed as his hand moved up to gently cup one of your breasts. You'd never felt a sensation like it, a new feeling of pleasure sending waves down to your core. Your eyes darted down to his hand as he gently messaged your skin. "They could never meet my standards." The reply came out breathy as your body began to crave his.

"Look at you, melting in my touch." As he watched you, his already inflated ego filled the room. Little Miss Untouchable was writhing under the little pleasure he was giving her. "Look at that, I know it feels good. It feels good, doesn't it?" He wanted to break you down and ruin the image you'd created of yourself in your head. Your hot face turned away as you bit down on your bottom lip. "I know you want me to keep going so you'd better open that mouth and answer me." "Yes." The word was all you'd give him as your back arched further into his touch. His hand left your body before you felt yourself be lifted into his lap. Your heart began to beat vigorously as you straddled his hips with your own. "We can't! The guests and my mom and your mom-" "But you want to." The shit-eating grin on his face let you know he had you right where he wanted you. "I need to hear you say it or I can't go further." You sat quietly for a second, weighing your options. On one hand, you weren't sure you wanted to risk your ego for this. On the other, the feeling of his hips between yours was driving you insane.

After weighing your options for a few seconds, you let out a shaky breath. "Just...be quick." "I don't rush shit." Before you could process his words, his lips were on your neck. The sensation was new, nothing like what you'd felt before. His lips were plush and warm as he tickled up your neck. The feeling of his hair brushing your jaw kept you grounded as you instantly melted in his touch. You were fully aware of his hands that rested at your thighs, slowly pushing your bunched dress up your legs. The sound of his lips moving against your skin made you feel dirty like you were committing the greatest act against yourself. Though you felt dirtier because it felt so good.

"Take this dress off." His voice was demanding as he moved back, waiting for you to follow orders. Your fingers reached down and hesitantly tugged the dress from your body. The sight of your pretty pink panty and bra set had Bakugou drooling. "Sure you're a virgin? Or you walk around with these pretty panties on for nothing?" The question was rhetorical, his lips falling against your collarbone. As he riled you up, you could feel an uncomfortable sensation growing between your legs. You could smell yourself through your panties. Embarrassed, you tried to close your thighs around him to no avail. His hands smoothed up your sides and played with your bra clasp before easily unclipping it. A gasp left your lips as you hugged your bra to your chest. His teeth pinched down on the soft skin of your neck as a warning. Loosening your grip, you allowed him to roughly tear the bra from your skin.

You were completely flustered, never have had anyone see you this bare before. "Look at that, high and mighty twenty minutes ago, and bare for me to see now." Before you could get a word out, he had you flipped beneath him on your childhood bed. Your legs lay beside his thighs as he stared down at you hungrily. "Oh gosh," The words flew out your mouth before you could stop them. Bakugou took this as his cue to continue as his lips quickly flew down to suck on your nipple. His other hand worked at the neglected boob as you watched with lustful eyes. The feeling was nothing short of euphoric, sensations traveling down to your drooling virgin pussy. Your head eventually rested on your pillow, allowing you to indulge in the pleasure.

"You like gettin' your titties sucked pretty girl?" His tone was condescending, dripping with arrogance as he teased you. You were too dazed from the simple touch to argue though, letting out an approving hum. His teeth bit down on your nipple enough to make you squeak. "Speak" "Y-yes, I like getting my titties sucked Dynamight." He chuckled at your submission. "Good bitch." You mewled at the name. Him pairing the derogatory name with praise making your back arch your chest into his face. "Dirty virgin, you like getting called a bitch huh?" His hand slowly began traveling down to the waistband of your panties. "Come on y/n, no way you're that worn out already?" His thick fingers moved to your inner thigh, thumb rubbing circles over your skin. He was teasing you, trying to get you to the point of desperation. Oh, what he'd give to hear you beg for his dick. You stayed quiet, concentrating on the way his fingers slowly moved to the damp area on your panties. You bit your lip from embarrassment. "You're sopping, this the self-discipline you were talking about?" You couldn't get an answer out as his fingers finally rubbed softly over your slit. Your pussy fluttered at the feeling, begging for more as your mouth dropped slightly open. He took this as an opportunity to connect lips, tongue pushing inside your mouth as his fingers began rubbing firmly. It was like electricity was sent through your body and straight to your core. You'd never felt anything like it. His fingers worked expertly, riling you up as his mouth worked against yours. The corners of his lips pulled up into a smirk as soft sounds began to escape your lips. He knew he had you.

"How much do you like these panties?" His question barely registered in your head. You let out a confused hum before the sound of a slight explosion and ripped fabric filled your ears. The cold air from your room finally hit your wet and weepy pussy. His fingers immediately found solitude within your folds, brushing up and down before toying around your clit. "Oh my-Dynamight that-" "It's Katsuki." He grunted out as his eyes explored your face. You were so sensitive, trying to grasp the feelings in your body. His sweet but musky scent helped overstimulate you as you relished in his touch. "Cocky little brat thought she was too good for this." His words were mumbled into your lips as his fingers toyed with your excited core.

Soft breaths hummed from your throat as your legs continuously parted for him. Without warning, he plunged his fingers into your sopping sex. "Kats-oh my gosh." The words came out with a gasp as your hands gripped the sheets. "Just preppin you for what's to come." His eyes watched as you swallowed his finger easily. "Fuck, you're so tight. Not sure how I'll fit in here." His words flew over your head as you easily began to see stars. A feeling rose in the pit of your stomach, and you weren't sure how to react. "Wait wait stop something's coming out." The words rushed out your mouth in panic, but your body remained slack as he added a second finger. "Just relax." Was all he muttered as he watched you fall apart from his two fingers. Your face scrunched as your back arched off your bed. Everything felt lighter as you dipped in and out of consciousness. Bakugou's dick got even harder than it already was, watching as you twitched beneath him.

Once your sex stopped gripping him so tightly, he removed his fingers from your core. Eyes lazily hanging open, your heart skipped a beat as he brought his fingers to his mouth. "Mmm, you taste good." Popping his fingers out of his mouth, he pushed them in front of you. You sat confused at first but shyly took his fingers into your mouth. The taste of your arousal mixed with his spit was so dirty, but you couldn't help the soft moan that vibrated your chest. "Don't you?" He asked matter-of-factly as you sucked the remainder of his fingers clean. Ripping his fingers from your mouth, he wasted no time in ripping his top off. Your desperation for him grew as you took in his sculpted figure. His ego rose through the roof as he felt your needy eyes on him. He ignored you though as he continued to take off his pants and boxers. Your mouth fell open at what was previously hidden.

Beneath his six-pack sat a pretty dick. Blonde hair decorated the top area, emphasizing his sharp v-line. "I promise you'll never see a dick like this again. You'll never feel a dick like this again either pretty girl." Grabbing your legs, he yanked you to the bottom of the bed before positioning both of them on his shoulders. "So desperate to suck me in?" He watched your hole clench around nothing, eager to be filled. Your face was hot as you watched the hero position himself between your legs. You were fully bare for him and, shockingly, it turned you on. "Fuck you're so wet." His words were mainly directed at himself as his leaking head began to smear against your folds. The soft hums leaving your lips stirred him further as your hands fidgeted to find something worth gripping. Your mouth stretched wide as your seeping hole did the same, his hot dick began to push slowly inside of you. "Ow I- Gosh Katsuki you're big." The moans began to fill your room as you tried your best to swallow him hole. "You can take it." The sharp pain was slowly overcome by the feeling of intense pleasure. Your tits bounced softly as his balls finally reached your ass. "Squeezin' me so hard, relax." His demanding words did nothing to loosen your grip, his fingers did though. You almost reached your peak instantly when his hand came down to play with your clit again. Once that little hole of yours finally lost a bit of grip, he began slowly but deeply fucking into you. The sensation was even greater than when you were sucking in his fingers. His hands gripped your hips as he bent down and captured your lips in his. The lewd sound of skin on skin filled the room as you allowed yourself to be swallowed up by his presence. When his lips finally left yours, your hand drifted down to your stomach. "I can feel you." His self-restraint snapped at that moment as his hips pulled fully back before snapping into yours. A loud cry left your lips before being muffled by his hand. "You forgot to close your door Miss Self Discipline." He grunted through gritted teeth. The feeling of his pounding into you was driving you off the edge, and quickly. Bakugou could tell you were reaching your high as your muffled cries began falling from your lips consistently. "Let's test that self-discipline." He mumbled before pulling out fully.

You were on the brig of finishing when he pulled out, a loud whine leaving your lips. "Not so hard to keep your legs closed? I guess it shouldn't be too hard to keep yourself from cumming on my dick." He waited a couple seconds for you to come down before shoving back into you. Your mouth dropped open beneath his hand, tongue absentmindedly darting out to wet his palm. His hips snapped to yours with vigor as you lay there and take it. Removing his hand from your mouth, it swiftly gripped your neck, His arm was situated between your breasts as you lazily looked up at him. "Shit y/n." Your name leaving his in a praise of pleasure had your back arching. "Look at you, needy just like the rest of us. It feels good, doesn't it?" His condescending tone made it obvious that he just wanted his ego stroked. You'd happily do that though with him balls deep in your cunt. "Feels so good Katsuki, so good." You sighed, listening to the nasty sounds filling up the room. "I know it does, needy bitch" His hips began rocking into yours faster and harder, and the feeling of him hitting a certain spot inside of you had tears pooling in your eyes.

"You're a snobby little slut, acting like you're better than the rest of us. Aren't you?" He fucked the ego right out of you as you lazily opened your mouth to reply. "Yes." A slap was placed on your thigh. "Give me the right answer." "F-F-Fuck Katsuki. Yes, I'm a snobby little slut." A sinister grin fell on his lips as he began rocking harder into you. Mewls left your mouth before they were swallowed by his lips. You were teetering on edge, and he knew this. His hand fell between your legs again and began toying with your clit. Your bed shook from the weight. Hands moving all over you, his breathing became ragged as soft moans fell from his lips to harmonize with your own. Before you knew it, he had you seeing stars for a second time. You let out a loud moan into his mouth as your body vibrated and twitched under his touch. He didn't let up though, continuing his fast and hard thrusts as he chased his own high. Soon enough, the feeling of something warm spilling inside of you caught your attention. Too fucked out to care though, you swallowed his own moans of ecstasy before feeling him pull out.

Your body was shocked and still, as your eyes opened only slightly. Between your lashes, you could see him get dressed as he read a message from his phone. "Hero duty calls." He spoke to you as he leaned down and placed a hungry kiss on your lips. "You're fucked out, might wanna pull yourself together though. Looks like your mom's event is ending soon." Before leaving, he pulled his phone out and took a photo of your sprawled-out and exhausted body. You could hear him chuckle as he walked to the door and left.

The week went by fast, too fast, you found yourself kissing your mother bye before driving back to your apartment. The memories from your mom's event constantly invaded your mind whenever you were left alone. He'd triggered something inside of you, ruining your self-image. Late at night, you found yourself touching your cunt, trying to mimic the way he fingered you previously. It was never enough though. You started out with the best and now anything less wasn't good enough.

Pulling your suitcase into your apartment, your phone let out a ding. Standing in the doorway, you quickly opened the message from the unknown number and jumped inside. You'd hoped your neighbors didn't see anything on your phone as an image of your fucked out body splayed across your screen. Your cunt glistened from the light as your hands gripped your tits. Your face was flushed as hairs stuck to your cheeks and forehead. Below the image left a text that had you blushing.

Little Miss "It's easy to keep your legs closed"

Little Miss Self Discipline.

[katakaluptastrophy]

You know how it goes: through some incredible circumstances, God and a young woman living under the shadow of an oppressive empire have a metaphysically unusual baby who grows up to be a general nuisance, won't stay dead, and sports a few additional holes...

It's the third Sunday of Advent and I'm a little concerned Bible studies for weird goth kids might be turning into a series... Let's talk about the Blessed Virgin Mary and Commander Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity.

Wake was probably never described as "gentle", "meek", or "mild", but there are a few similarities: distinctive outfits, snazzy shrines, commitment to putting down the mighty from their seats, and of course babies with great and terrible destinies niftily conceived without sex.

On the topic of conception, let's clear up a common, uh, misconception: the term "immaculate conception" does not refer to Mary becoming pregnant with Jesus. It's Mary's own conception.

Why are we talking about how Mary was conceived and what does this have to do with lesbian necromancers?

To answer that question, we have to go back further still, way before Mary's conception. Back to these guys and their unfortunate snack cravings:

Remember how last time we talked about the concept of being in a state of grace? Well, the Christian read on Adam and Eve is that a state of grace was, as it were, the factory setting for humanity. They were fully in tune with God, there was no sickness or death, there was no sin. Until, that is, the whole unfortunate business with the apple. The first sin. The world is fundamentally altered. Humanity is expelled from paradise, burdened with sin, death, disease, patriarchy, and work. Worse, this sinful human nature turns out to be sexually transmissible: every human being is born tainted by this "original sin" of Adam and Eve.

This is why Catholicism is so big on baptising babies: even if they're many years off being able to commit any sins themselves (a sin has to be something consciously chosen and understood), they're still contaminated by that original sin of Adam and Eve. Baptism is understood to erase original sin, wiping the slate clean.

Bear with me, we'll be back to necromancers soon I promise. Have a picture of Mary beating up the devil while an angel holds baby Jesus:

OK, but what does Adam and Eve's danger snack have to do with Mary's conception?

The "immaculate conception" refers to the idea that unlike every human being between Adam and Jesus, Mary was conceived without the contamination of original sin. The rationale for this is complex, but essentially boils down to something like the saving power of Jesus not being bound by piffling things like time and space and thus saving his mother before her own conception and allowing himself to also be conceived and born sinless.

But the important bit is that something specific about Mary means that she is uniquely able to be pregnant with Jesus.

You may be starting to guess where this is going...

Because while unconventional pregnancy seems to have been the plan from the get-go for Jesus, it was not with the artist formerly known as The Bomb:

“I had the baby,” said Wake. “The baby I’d had to incubate myself for nine long fucking months, when the foetal dummies these two gave me died.”

“Oh, God, it was yours,” said Augustine, in horror. “I thought you’d used in vitro on one of Mercy’s—”

“I said they all died,” said Wake. “The dummies died. The ova died. Only the sample was still active, no idea how considering it was twelve weeks after the fact, but I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“So you used it on yourself,” said Augustine. “Anything for the revolution, eh, Wake?”

We have to assume the foetal dummies plan was hatched by Mercymorn, a brilliant scientist with a myriad of experience. If the problem encountered by Wake were as simple as Lyctoral infertility, I suspect Mercy would have spotted that long before.

But what do Wake and John have in common that Mercymorn or any of the other ova-having residents of the Mithraeum did not? They are both (to some extent at least) factory setting humans: unlike everyone else in the Dominicus system, they never died and were resurrected, nor are they the descendants people who were. John's abilities, while macabre, are not straightforwardly the necromancy otherwise practiced in the Houses. That necromancy is a direct result of one specific act of taking that resulted in the very nature of the world changing: a thanergetic system, inhabited by human beings who, necromancer or not, are fundamentally tainted by thanergy and by the after effects of that action of John's. You might call it a sin. An indelible sin. He does.

It's not an exact parallel, but necromancy certainly occupies a space not dissimilar to original sin: the result of a single action, tainting every descendant of its progenitors regardless of their actions of abilities.

And then enter Gideon, born in space away from the thanergetic energy of the Dominicus system to a mother lacking the 10,000 year intergenerational burden of the resurrection and necromancy. The child of Jod, born to die.

[superprofesh]

The Five Times Colt Seavers Almost Kisses You (and the One Time He Does) — Part 6 (Final)

Pairing: Colt Seavers x reader

Description: The one time Colt Seavers kisses you — or, rather, the first time.

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.6k

Tag List: @strangedeerconnoisseur, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlightandstarshimmer, @chemococktailonthehouse, @1word (sending directly to the rest because Tumblr isn't cooperating)

Author’s Note: Well, folks, we've come to the end of this fic, and I hope it's everything you've all been waiting for. I can't express how much your kind words and amazing feedback has meant to me, and it has truly shaped this fic in more ways than you know. I'm really going to miss writing this fic, soooo........ if y'all are interested in a little epilogue, I'm up for that ;) Thank you all, and I hope you enjoy!!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Colt can’t get out of the camera crew’s station fast enough. He’s been searching for you all morning, but Holly finally pressed a note in his hand, telling him that you asked her to pass it on to him. He instantly searches for a quiet place where he can read your note, dreading what it might say.

Yesterday shook him up, in more ways than one. Staring down the headlights of a train while Elijah Gordon pushed him to stay a few more seconds was terrifying even for him. Seeing you engage in a showdown with Gordon himself in front of the entire crew was so completely unexpected and selfless that he hasn’t been able to get it out of his mind. No one has ever stood up for him like that.

The more he’s thought it over, the more he’s realized that he’s been blind. Blind to your feelings, blind to your sincerity, blind to the fact that he’s been on the verge of his sweetest dream come true. He’s been pushing you away because he thought he wasn’t good enough for you, but after what happened yesterday, he’s starting to realize that doesn’t matter.

He keeps remembering the look in your eyes when you were in the tent together. The gentle way your fingertips stroked his hair, the soft skin of your neck against his lips, the way you held him as if he were designed to fit in your arms. If your fierceness in defending him didn’t convince him that he needed to wake up and confess his love for you, the heated look in your eyes did. His plan upon finding you has been to simply pour out his heart and see if you’re still willing to accept him after everything that’s happened.

Colt finally finds an empty bench a few stations down from the camera crew, and he unfolds your note carefully. A gentle smile crosses his lips when he sees you’ve scribbled it by hand, your artistic handwriting scrawled in green ink across a piece of office paper. The smile slowly fades, though, as he scans the contents of your letter.

Dear Colt,

I’m sorry to leave without saying goodbye, but I figured we’ve already said a lot of things that are more important than goodbyes. I want you to know that I’m not leaving because you hurt me or because I’m angry with you. I just think it’s best this way, for both of us.

I quit my job last night as Gordon’s set director. After everything that’s happened, I just can’t work for him. I’ve already had a few offers back in L.A., so I’ll be fine. I wish you the best as you finish the movie. You really are the best stuntman in the business, and I hope you stay safe.

I’ve already told you most of what I feel, so I won’t beat a dead horse any more. Still, in case I haven’t told you enough, I want you to know that the time I’ve spent with you has been the happiest I’ve had in a long time. I don’t know why you’re so dead-set on believing you’re not good enough for me. That thought has never entered my mind and never will. You’re the best person I know. When I look back on my memories of love, I will always think of you. Whatever you think you’d be holding me back from, it doesn’t matter to me half as much as you do. Please believe that.

I wish you all the best, and I hope one day our paths might cross again. Until then, thumbs up and happy landings.

Colt squeezes his eyes shut once he’s finished reading the letter, fighting the urge to crumple the piece of paper into a ball. How could you have been so stupid? his inner monologue chides him. How could you not have recognized unconditional love when it was staring you in the face?

The memory of your touch hits him like a knockout punch. Suddenly, every moment the two of you have shared comes back to him in excruciating detail. Smudging paint on each other’s faces. Walking you back to your hotel room. Flirting with you at the club. The look in your eyes when you ran to him after the train stunt. Your hands on his face, in his hair.

Setting his jaw, Colt glances at his watch. 7:42 AM. If he can figure out where you’re leaving from, he can catch you in time. There are a lot of things he needs to say before it’s too late, and now, for the first time, he’s ready to say them.

He folds the paper, tucks it into his pocket, and starts running.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You grip your steering wheel with white-knuckled hands. The sun has already risen over the mountains in the distance, but the beauty of the landscape is the furthest thing from your mind.

You can’t believe you actually left. You’ve never quit a job before, especially one as high-profile as this one. But you just couldn’t take it. You couldn’t work for someone who would so carelessly risk the life of one of their employees. Especially when you happen to be in love with that employee.

You haven’t told anyone but Holly (and Gordon, of course), and she understood. She also promised to pass along your note to Colt.

Writing that note is the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. You wrote eight versions of it before settling on the one you passed to Holly. The most painful part was knowing that that note may be the last time you ever communicate with Colt. Saying exactly the right thing was vital, and you finally felt satisfied with the ninth version, which included a lot less poetic verse and a lot more explanations of why you were really leaving.

The airport is looming on the horizon, and a wave of emotion sweeps over you, biting at the backs of your eyes. What was the point of knowing him if this is how it has to end?

You can’t stop replaying your memories with him as you pull closer to the airport parking lot. Things started out so simple and easy between the two of you — making each other laugh, sitting together at lunch, cheering on each other’s projects — but once the tension between you started heating up, maintaining a friendship has seemed almost impossible. You thought you could handle it, but it turns out you’re not strong enough to face Colt every day if you can’t express your love for him openly.

You pull into a parking space, facing the vast grassy field that leads to the plane runway. A passenger jet soars into the air, leaving a trail of jet stream behind. You’ll be aboard one of those planes within the hour, and maybe when you get to L.A., you can leave all your sorrows behind you.

You’re still trying to muster the strength to climb out of the car and drag your suitcase to the airport, when something… odd catches your eye. On the busy street leading up to the airport entrance, a vehicle is moving too fast to be driven by a normal person. The truck rounds the corner to fly up the airport drive at top speed, and your heart constricts.

That’s Colt’s truck.

All your attention is suddenly laser-focused on that familiar GMC pickup, and before you know what you’re doing, you’ve leaped out of your car and started running as fast as you can towards the driveway. A few seconds later, Colt’s truck pulls to a stop on the side of the drive, and he jumps out without even bothering to turn the truck off.

The fifteen seconds it takes you to get halfway across the grassy field feels like an eternity, and by the time you’re halfway, Colt has already cleared the distance. He sweeps you into his arms, holding you off the ground as you try to catch your breath, completely overwhelmed by this grand gesture.

He came for me. He couldn’t let me leave without saying goodbye. It’s not over yet.

You’re content to stay like that, suspended off the ground and feeling his heartbeat pound against your chest, but Colt carefully sets you back on your feet and holds you at arm’s length. His face is a jumble of a thousand emotions, more than you’ve ever seen from him in all the time you’ve known him. He’s breathing hard from his enthusiastic sprint across the greenway, but his eyes are illuminated by his excitement at catching you in time.

“Colt—” you start, gripping his forearms as if he’s going to disappear.

He shakes his head, cutting off whatever you were about to ask. “I’ve been wrong. I’ve been so wrong.”

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief, trying to make sense of his words. “Colt, how did you find me here?” you ask.

“I got your note,” he tells you. “Holly told me how to find you.”

“Don’t you have to be on set?”

“Actually, I’m not filming anymore.”

You can’t hide your confusion. Colt isn’t working on the movie anymore? What kind of insane coincidence could this be? “What?” you squeak, gripping his arms even harder. “Please tell me you didn’t quit because I did!”

Colt shakes his head, which relieves you. “Tom quit the movie last night,” Colt explains, his eyes never leaving yours. “Called Gordon and told him he was sick of taking orders and wasn’t working for him anymore. I’d say it had something to do with you taking Gordon to task yesterday,” he adds with something that sounds a little like humor. “Tom doesn’t want something like that reflecting badly on him.”

You laugh in pure disbelief, amazed at the turn of events you could never have expected. “Well, I never thought I’d be grateful to Tom Ryder for anything,” you say honestly, and Colt laughs with you, genuine joy behind his eyes. You search his face for answers about why he has rushed to the airport to see you. You begin, “Listen, you didn’t have to come all this way just to tell me—”

“I did,” Colt says definitively. “Believe me, I did. Because what I have to say isn’t something that can be done long-distance.”

Your heart drops. This is it. After all this time, you’re about to hear the words that you know are true, the ones you’ve been waiting for, from his own lips.

“Colt…”

Colt takes a step backwards, his hands falling from your arms to hold your hands between the two of you. The look in his eyes can only be described as utter sincerity.

“I have been so wrong about selling you short,” he says softly, emotion threatening to break through his voice. “I keep putting you on this impossibly high pedestal and believing that you’re way too good for me. I thought you could never feel what I feel because I don’t see myself the way I see you. To me, you’re every wonderful thing that ever existed.”

Tears spring into your eyes at his words, so totally without guile. “Are you serious?” you whisper.

“Absolutely serious.” His eyes blaze with an intensity you haven’t seen before, and his grip on your hands grows tighter as he says, “Listen, I’ve never said this to anyone in my life, but… I love you.” Colt stops, his voice catching in his throat when he sees the tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you on set painting that triple-sized stop sign.” You both laugh at the memory, relieving some of the overwhelming emotion.

He keeps going. “I’m so in love with you it actually scares me,” he finishes, “because nothing has ever meant so much to me as getting this right. I can’t keep holding it back, and you deserve to know. It’s killing me.”

“Colt…” It’s as if you’ve forgotten every word but his name.

Still, Colt presses on, trying to get three months’ worth of communication out in three minutes. “I’m not asking anything in return,” he tells you insistently. “If you still want to go, I won’t stop you. You don’t need to say or do anything, but I just had to get this out. After yesterday, with the train stunt almost going wrong, and you telling Gordon off, and then when you told me you love me and want to be with me no matter what, I don’t know… it just sort of woke me up.”

Your eyes brim with tears again, and you squeeze his hands, giving him an encouraging smile to keep going. You can feel his pulse in his hands, flying as fast as the jet planes soaring over the nearby mountains.

“I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want you to be stuck with a guy like me.” Colt can’t seem to stop the avalanche of words spilling out of his mouth, every one as sweet as honey to your ears. “I keep imagining this amazing future for you and thinking that I’m only going to hold you back and get in the way. I’m still not sure it wouldn’t be that way, but… I’m not the only one who gets to make that decision.” His voice thickens with emotion again. “No one has ever cheered me on the way you do. No one has ever supported me with everything I do, and made me feel like I actually have a chance at real love. But you’re different. You make me feel like I can do anything, and if you still want me after all we’ve been through, I’m yours.”

The look in Colt’s eyes is enough to make your knees feel weak, and you throw yourself forward to steady yourself, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. Colt’s instant embrace is more welcome than you could have imagined.

“Of course I want you,” you whisper in his ear. “Just you, no strings attached.”

Colt holds you against him for a few moments, long enough that a plane takes off from the landing strip and zooms far enough away that it doesn’t drown out his words. Finally, carefully, he pries himself out of your arms and holds you at arm’s length, his hands on your waist. “Look, I can’t promise that it’ll be easy,” he continues in a rush. “I’m a stuntman. Life is scary and dangerous and all that.”

“I don’t care about that,” you answer honestly, beaming through your tears. “If it’s what you love doing, there’s nothing I want more than for you to do it. I can handle it.”

“It’s not just that. I’ve never… I’ve never had a serious relationship before. Everything will be new for me, and I’m going to make a ton of mistakes.”

Colt’s eyes are misty, too, and your heart is so full of joy that it feels like it will burst. You know it must be radiating from your face, because Colt starts grinning back at you, seeming to sense how much you’ve been aching to hear these words from him.

“So am I,” you insist, your hands fluttering back and forth from his face to his shoulders over and over. “Mistakes are just part of a relationship. As long as we communicate and stay committed, we’re not going to fall apart just because of a few mistakes.”

Colt nods, flexing his fingers against your waist as his smile overtakes his entire face. Still, he doesn’t lose control: he seems to be holding back until he’s finished saying everything that’s been building up over the months. You’re more than happy to let your gaze wander over his wonderful face, to bask in the fact that Colt Seavers loves you back and isn’t going to let you go.

“There’s one more thing,” he says gingerly. “I… I don’t really have a lot of grand aspirations for the future. I’m a stuntman because that’s what I love doing, but there aren’t a lot of ways to move up the ladder. I’ll be doing stunts until I’m dead or until I can’t anymore, so basically, my future is just to be a working-class guy. I’ll just be an unknown stuntman.” He hesitates at the end of his speech, as if he honestly believes this could be a problem for you.

You want to laugh in sheer glee, but you hold back so Colt won’t think you’re taking his seriousness lightly. “If that bothered me,” you inform him, moving your thumbs lightly against the sides of his neck, “I would never have fallen in love with you in the first place. Colt, I’m not exactly shooting for the stars myself as a set decorator. Sure, I may have a chance to work on even bigger films, and it can always open up some new opportunities, but I’m not doing this to climb the ladder either. If we’re both working-class professionals for the rest of our lives, that’s fine with me. As long as I have you in my life, I don’t care what kind of life it is.”

Colt’s eyes finally brim over with the tears he has valiantly been holding back. His hands are trembling against your waist, and he ducks his head so you won’t see how much this confession has affected him. You pull him close to you again, resting your head just below his chin while he squeezes you tightly enough to take your breath away. This is what heaven must be like.

He’s whispering something against the top of your hair, so low you can barely hear it. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I do,” Colt replies, the regret in his voice obvious. “I haven’t been able to make up my mind about what to do because all this has been in the back of my head. I should have just come clean with you the first time you ever let me know how you feel.” He lifts your head with his fingers under your chin, meeting your tear-stained gaze with one of his own. “It would have saved you all this heartbreak,” he whispers.

You smile up at him, resting your hand on his cheek. “What’s love without a little heartbreak?” you tease him. “That’s how you know it’s real.”

Colt finally returns your smile, his shoulders relaxing as if he suddenly believes that this is real. “I promise I won’t break your heart again,” he says solemnly.

“I believe that.” And you do.

Colt is looking into your eyes with all the passion of the ocean in a storm, and you can feel the blush in your cheeks building just from the way he’s looking at you. You’re suddenly hyper-conscious of his hand that’s still resting under your chin, tilting your head back to look deep in your eyes. The hand that is slowly, ever so slowly, bringing your face closer to his.

Colt hesitates for a moment when your lips are just inches apart. You’ve been here so many times, so close to a kiss, and have parted every time. This time, however, you know his heart is beating for you alone, and you feel like you have all the time in the world to savor this moment.

His gaze flickers down to your lips, and his breath seems to double its pace as he considers what he’s about to do. He lifts an eyebrow at you, as if asking, Are you ready? Your smile tells him all he needs to know, and finally, finally, Colt closes the endless distance between you.

The moment your lips meet his, your heart whispers, This is what you were made to do. Colt’s kiss is everything gentle and passionate, his lips moving slowly against yours in a rhythm that is so incredibly natural. His hands find landing spots on your back when you tighten your arms around his neck, pressing yourself against him as he deepens the kiss.

Every last circuit in your brain is exploding in the sweetest way possible. Is this how it’s supposed to feel? you wonder, and Colt pulls away from your mouth at that exact moment, fixing his eyes on yours with an expression that tells you he’s wondering the same thing.

The separation only lasts a moment, though, because now that Colt has had a taste of your lips, he can’t get enough. He kisses you again, and again, and again, and again, until you’re both so out of breath you wonder if you’ll ever recover. His hands move up and down your back, clutching your body so tightly against his that you’ve started breathing in rhythm with each other. You can taste salt on his lips, and you have no idea if it’s from your tears or his.

Just when you think you’re about to drown in the sweetest possible way, Colt presses one more soft kiss against your lips, then pulls back so you can breathe. You find yourself gasping for air and aren’t surprised to see him doing the same. Your hands stay on his shoulders as they heave up and down, and he doesn’t loosen his hold on you for a second.

“Colt…” you sigh, your lips feeling like they’ve actually changed shape, “I’ve dreamed about this so many times. You have no idea.”

He inclines his head toward you, resting his cheek against yours. His beard scratches your skin in a way that sends a delightful shiver down your spine. “Me, too,” he whispers against your cheek.

“Promise me this is real.”

“It’s real,” Colt assures you, dipping his head so he can press a kiss against the skin right below your ear. “Realer than anything I’ve done in my life.”

You feel like your body is about to sail into orbit at the contact, and you grip Colt’s broad shoulders even harder as his lips move down your neck, across your throat, down to your collarbone. You know you’re making breathless sounds that betray how much he’s exciting you, but you are far past the point of caring.

With every kiss, it’s as if Colt is repeating the words he said just a few moments ago: I love you. I love you. I love you. One of his hands moves from your lower back to cradle your chin, tilting your head to the side to give him better access to your neck.

“I’ve been aching for you,” he murmurs close to your ear. “Burning for you.”

His words inspire an entirely new shiver down your spine, one that makes you stand on your toes and arch even further into his arms. All you can manage to choke out is, “I love you so much… so much…”

You slide one hand into his hair, remembering how he reacted the last time you did that. Right on cue, Colt lets out a soft sound that makes every inch of your skin erupt into goosebumps. He goes still in your arms, his mouth still on the curve where your shoulder meets your neck. You run your fingers through his hair with firm but gentle strokes, reveling in the way he seems to melt in your arms.

After a few moments of it, Colt finally straightens again, his intense gaze locked on your face. You leave one hand in his thick hair and let your other wander to his face. Using just your fingertips, you trace his forehead, his cheekbone, his nose, his lips, his jaw, everything you’ve been dying to touch. Colt’s eyes flutter closed at your touch, as if he’s about to come undone right before your eyes. Your heart leaps when he leans his head to the side, leaning in to your touch.

You choose to copy his actions, rising up to press your lips to his pulse point, right below his neck. The way Colt’s hands on your waist flex in response tells you you’ve found something he likes. You trail your way up until you’re peppering kisses behind his ear, then on his cheek, on his nose, on both his closed eyelids.

At the sensation of your kisses on his face, Colt opens his eyes and smiles at you. It’s a new smile this time, one that speaks of a new emotion he’s feeling for the first time. Peacefulness. Assurance.

Colt raises his hands to frame your face, tucking the strands of hair that he’s pulled loose back behind your ears. His voice breaks when he says softly, “I may never find the right words to tell you how I really feel about you, but I promise I’m going to take every opportunity to try.”

You rest your hands on his chest, grinning as you reply, “We’ve got the rest of our lives for you to think of the right words. I’ve heard all the ones I need to know what you mean.”

Colt’s eyes are brimming over with the love he’s been demonstrating, the adoration, the gratitude, the sheer bliss of sharing this moment with the one person he’s been waiting all his life for. “You’re everything to me…” he murmurs, lowering his lips to touch yours again. “I’ve never…” he restarts, only to interrupt himself with another kiss. “No one has ever…”

He doesn’t even try to finish the last sentence, and your lips are meeting in a gentler kiss, one that calms the fire you’ve been building for the last little eternity. His lips are so soft against yours, coaxing things from you but never demanding. Colt’s hands stroke through your hair and down your spine, holding you close against his chest protectively. You can feel every breath he takes, every movement that reveals how wrapped up he is in feeling you with him.

Another deafening jet plane roars over your heads, but neither of you take the slightest bit of notice.

Colt finally slows your kiss down, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth and leaving one of his hands to tangle in your hair. He doesn’t pull away, just lets his lips linger on your jaw, as he asks casually, “So, Sofonisba, are you still flying out?”

“Sofonisba?” you repeat, words slowly drifting back into your brain.

“I was running out of artist nicknames,” Colt explains, a husky edge still noticeable in his voice. “Had to look that one up.”

You grin at him, though he feels it rather than sees it. “I don’t have to fly out. I don’t exactly have somewhere to be.” You snuggle closer to him, not quite ready to leave his comforting embrace. “Haven’t even gotten my ticket yet.”

Colt hums in approval at that, the sound lingering on your skin. “In that case,” he suggests softly, “what do you say to some coffee?”

“Can’t think of anything I’d like better,” you say honestly.

Colt returns your smile, pulling you forward for one last, reverent kiss to your lips. Then he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and the two of you gaze off into the distance, where another plane soars into the sky over the mountains.

You don’t know what lies ahead for you, and you know Colt doesn’t either. But you are assured of one thing now, and that is that you’ve found the man you were made to be with. All it takes is one glance up into his eyes to know that he’s confident of the same thing.

That’s more than enough for you.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Epilogue

[cordeliawhohung]

Hi!!! i absolutely loovveeddd your simon drabble - maybe u could write a drabble ab mean teasing ghost making u get off on his thighs😭 haven’t been able to get that off my mind in the last couple of days KENFNSKWK THANK YOU

hi!!!! thank you so much! <3 (yall are seriously too sweet) once again (not to beat a dead horse or anything) but i just wanna reiterate that i am very much out of my depth here, but i really hope it's to your liking!

minors dni, thigh riding (obvi), small use of pet names, simon's having too much fun teasing, he's a little mean but still praising, def still a dick tho, slight banter (not proofread very well...)

Riding His Thigh

It starts on the couch in the living room. What was supposed to be a peaceful and quiet night in with a home cooked meal and a movie turned into wandering hands and needy mouths pressed together. You ended up in his lap like you normally do, legs spread apart to accommodate the wideness of his hips just to straddle him.

There was something different about this time, though. Simon's hands moved languid and soft along your sides, and you whined at the lack of want, the lack of force to his grip. You pull out of the kiss with a small pout, and your hands instantly slither down to the band of his jeans.

"Simon..." you whimper, the want evident in your voice as you tug at his zipper. "Fuck... need you so bad..."

That was supposed to be his queue, the green light, but instead he gently pushed your hands away before resting his own on your hips. Then he's pushing you back a little, forcing your leg to slip away from his hips and down towards his thighs where you're then stuck straddling one.

"Gonna need you to work a bit harder than that, sweetheart," he says, his voice laced with a dangerous promise that tells you that he means every word.

You want to argue, you want to pitch a fit and whine saying you can't wait, or that he's cruel for even suggesting such a thing, but then his grip on your hips tighten, and he slowly rocks you along his thigh. It sends a sharp jolting feeling up through your stomach that satisfies your insatiable need for him for only a moment before it washes away with a single breath. You know exactly what he's wanting, and though you're whining about it, you know you don't want to deny him.

Eventually you begin to move on your own, and despite the muted but delicious friction through the fabric of your shorts you stare at Simon with a look that tells him you're not happy about this one bit. He's too busy enjoying the show to mind, though. His hands stay firmly on your hips, refusing to aid you but feeling every single sway of your body.

"There we go," he coos as he relaxes further into the couch.

It's annoying how the baritone of his voice heats your core so hot it swelters. You want to call him names, let your frustrations be known, tell him you want him to fuck you properly. But it's like he can read your mind, and he bounces his leg over so slightly, ripping a sharp gasp from those pretty, pouting lips as the pressure increases and decreases on your clit all too suddenly.

You don't care anymore. You ride his thigh shamelessly, hands resting firmly against his shoulders as you do. Your own thighs tighten around him as you feel the wetness collect in the fabric of your underwear. A whiny moan erupts from you as you clench down around nothing, and despite your frustration you continue through it.

"C'mon," Simon urges gruffly. Suddenly he sits up straight, his grip on your flesh tightening as he now joins in helping you get off on his thigh. "Just once, yeah? Need you to cum for me and I'll give you what you want."

His lips are so close to yours you're nearly kissing but not quite. Every breath you breathe is pushed into his mouth, and you can feel the way his words feel on your skin.

"Just like that, c'mon love," he continues. "Cum for me and I'm all yours."

A few more desperate ruts and pathetic moans later and you're coming undone on his thigh. A small cry leaves your lips as your cunt pulses around absolutely nothing, and you bite into your lip as you slump forward, your forehead resting against his lips. The frustration builds in you again almost instantly as you know that orgasm would have felt ten times better had he stopped teasing and gave you his cock.

"Fuckin' perfect," Simon praises, but his hands don't stop moving. Your poor, overstimulated clit endures more of his teasing as his firm grip forces your body to rock against him once more. He chuckles when you whine. "What? Too much for you?" he teases.

"Fuck you," you bite, but your words quickly fall away as he bounces his knee once more.

"That's the point, isn't it?"

master list and tag lists can be found here!

[dameronology]

we can't be friends (steve rogers)

summary: based on we can't be friends by ariana grande

warnings: angst, swearing

sorry for being absent for six months. even more sorry that this is what i came back with. enjoy!

Being loved by Steve Rogers was like sunlight on a stormy day. Peaking through the clouds, encouraging you to come out of whatever shelter you'd chosen; letting you smell the fresh rain on the pavement as the light finally came through, taking back the water until next time. It was warm on your skin, right through to your bones and your heart and to your very soul. You could have basked in it forever.

The mornings were your favourite, waking up to golden alabaster skin, carved into his muscles. They were slightly scarred, with jagged pink marks of stab wounds and bullet skims and far too many near misses for you to be comfortable. Of course, he healed faster than most but when you were as trigger happy as Steve Rogers was, barely a mission went by when he didn't come home with some minor wound or another. Still, him being there was the most important part. He'd let out a sleepy little yawn and subconsciously roll over to hold you, taking him in his arms and pulling you to his chest. That was where you felt safest.

No matter how busy he was or how demanding work became, Steve always showed up. Flowers waiting for you on the counter after a bad day; ordering take out when you were ill and always making sure your favourite show was recorded on the DVR. You never even had to ask. He'd buy you new roses before your old ones had even began to wilt; had your busiest work days recorded in your phone calendar so that he could step up, even when his own job was pulling him across the country. That was the thing about Steve Rogers: he always showed up.

Until he didn't.

Being loved by Steve Rogers was like sunlight on a rainy day, but waiting for him to love you back was a never-ending storm. Rain pelting down, hammering onto your clothes and seeping through to your skin and your bones and eventually drowning your heart. There was no dry escape. No shelter to hide from the rain. You always felt it - the wet, the cold, the shivering - no matter how hard you tried to escape. There was no getaway from the realisation that he no longer loved you back, or from the 19 miscalled waiting on his phone, or from the dead roses wilted on your kitchen windowsill.

Long conversations about your future had turned into silent, screaming pauses. The arguments felt pointless. You could only beat a dead horse so many times before you realised it wasn't coming back to life.

You sat on opposite ends of the sofa now. Slept on different sides of the bed. Watched your favourite show in silence whilst he tapped away at his laptop, barely even bothered by your presence. He'd sat too a high standard for himself. It was one he couldn't keep, but even the bare minimum was a golden standard compared to what he was giving you these days.

"I'm done."

You'd surprised yourself more than anyone with the words. Steve had come home from work late again. The fourth time that week, twelfth time that month and countless times overall. You'd made dinner. It was cold now, like the stony expression on his face and the watery one on yours.

"What?"

Steve glanced up from his phone, brow furrowed.

"I'm done," you said.

"With what?"

You sighed deeply, regathering yourself for a moment. Pushed down the lump in your throat, shoulders raised to try and show whatever tatters of your pride you had left.

"I'm leaving you," you said. "I can't...I don't want to sit around and wait for you to love me again."

Steve put his phone down, pausing for a moment. It looked like he was going to say something...maybe anything. Even though your mind was made up, part of you wanted him to beg. To get on his knees, take your hands and plead for your heart back. God knows that this time a year ago, he would have pleaded with you in person and with writing in the sky.

Instead, he just sniffed.

He sniffed, and you left. Keys to your shared apartment thrown into the dish on the side, never to be taken again. At least the Lego heart keys chain you had together would be together again - you know, when he was actually home.

Whatever time you had previously put into your relationship, you now put into yourself. Found a nice little loft on the other side of the river - it felt like the wrong side, but everything felt wrong without him - and decorated it with everything but photos of you together. There was a nice rug, and a beautiful sofa, and your marble counters were a nice welcome home.

Still, the bed felt cold. Not as cold as it had when he'd lovelessly laid beside you, but still. Cold. It felt strange only having one tooth brush in the holder, and only one bottle of shower gel on the edge of your bath. The toilet seat was always down now (Steve had had only one flaw, and that was it) and you always tripped over the shoes that you left by the door because he no longer tidied them away.

It felt like half your heart was missing, but eventually it grew back.

You forgot about Steve, and the Avengers, and that entire world until Natasha Romanoff texted you. It had been six months since your break-up by that point, and even though you missed them all dearly, it had been natural for Steve to get them in the break-up. You had your friends. He had his. But, it was nice that Natasha still thought of you.

Hey, hope you're doing well. I'm having my birthday party next week at my apartment. 7pm, same building as always. It would be nice if you came. Steve may or may not be but he's been annoying lately so I'd rather have you. Let me know <3

At first, it had been an immediate no. Then you thought about it some more, and it was a definitive no. Then, you found yourself calling Nat and talking for three hours straight.

Apparently Morgan was in her One Direction era, and had thrown an hour long tantrum when she found out they weren't together anymore. Pepper and Tony had tried to pay for a reunion, but they weren't interested. Bruce was doing an assignment in France and Clint and his family had moved a little closer to the city. Sam and Bucky were still working for the government and naturally, that had brought Natasha onto the subject of Steve.

Doing better. That's what she said. Apparently he wasn't working as late anymore and he'd cut down his hours. He was going to therapy, drinking less and working out more. She'd lingered on the last sentence, but ended it with he's more like your Steve again.

That made you want to go to the party even less, and yet the following weekend you found yourself stood outside Natasha's high-rise apartment building at 7:35PM. You'd put more effort into your appearance than usual; a more expensive fragrance, spent a little longer on your hair and worn the outfit Steve had always thought you looked best in. Maybe it was a calculated move, but you'd never been all that good at maths.

Your entrance was met with four or five hugs. Natasha looked amazing as ever, and Bucky was brighter now. Tony was elated to see you and you didn't ask about Pepper's little baby bump, but you could see it was there. Your mind was kept too occupied by all them to even think about Steve.

That - naturally - all came crashing down when you saw him across the room. He was leant against a pillar, hair longer now but fluffed up and a 5 o'clock shadow gathered on his chin. Not like the man with long hair and a beard that you'd left, but not quite the squeaky clean looking Steve you'd fallen in love with either. Still though, it was closer. He was showing through the cracks.

The question of whether or not you would approach him answered itself, because you blinked and suddenly he was stood in front of you.

"I owe you an apology."

Straight to the fucking chase.

You faltered slightly, but didn't let it show. "Yeah, I think you do."

Steve glanced around you at all your friends - naturally, they were all staring at you. They might have been superheroes but that didn't stop them being nosey fuckers.

"Let's go to the roof," he said. "I mean...if you want. You don't owe me anything."

You nodded your head. "Let's go to the roof."

The climb up the stairs to Natasha's terrace was awkward, but not as bad as the silence that quickly filled the cold air as soon as you got up there. Steve might have been one of the bravest men you'd ever met, but vulnerability scared the shit out of him. You suspected that was the case now.

"So?" you asked. "What could you possibly have to say?"

"I'll only say that I'm sorry once," Steve began. "So: I'm sorry. For pushing you out, for not trying, for letting work consume me. Even more for the fact I didn't even try to stop you leaving, because as soon as you shut the door, all I wanted to do was run after you, but I'm not stupid. I knew your mind was made up."

"Where are you going with this?"

"You leaving was like a bucket of cold water," he continued. "It made me realise a lot of things - about how much I'd left myself go, mostly. I've stopped drinking and started going to therapy, and I have my work hours capped."

You smiled. "Well done, Steve. That's really great."

"I'm better now. Not fully, but...I'm getting there," Steve replied. "I asked Natasha to invite you tonight. She wanted to anyways but it was sort of my idea."

"Why?"

"So I could apologise, but mostly because I want you back in my life," he explained. "As friends, as something more. Hell, I'll take you as my enemy if it means I get to see you again."

You sighed, eyes falling to the ground. What could you even say to that? Enemies sounded pretty good - and definitely well deserved - but you didn't hate Steve. You'd moved on, but that didn't mean you'd lost all capability to love him.

"How do I know you won't do it again?" you asked.

"You don't," he replied. "I don't know that either, but what if it doesn't happen again? What if...what if things were really good?"

You glanced away, eyes staring at the distant Manhattan skyline for a moment. It glittered and glimmered, mostly rebuilt after the 2012 incident. You could see Stark Tower as well. Steve had told you he loved you for the first time on that roof top. Now, here he was, begging for you back on another.

"Friends," you muttered. "We can be friends. I don't know after that. I've waited six fucking months for you to decide that you love me again-"

" - I never stopped -"

" - not the point, Steve!" you cut him off. "We'll start with friends, then go from there."

"I'll wait ten years if I have to," he said. His smile suggested he was joking, but you knew he wasn't.

With that, Steve pulled you into a hug. In your soul, you knew you couldn't be friends. Enemies was worst but strangers was horrible too. The answer was inevitable, but you just had to make him wait a little while.

maybe a part 2?

[darkbluekies]

I'm sorry to bother you, I just wanted to see the Yandere's reaction when they found out that their S/O has a lot of scars because of their father who was a very abusive man with their mother and their S/O when she was just a child

Warnings: abuse, murder, beating someone to death with a lamp, celebrating a death, bruises, dragging someone behind a horse, beheading,

Silas: 

Would become furious. Everything suddenly clicked into place, all your out of pocket behaviors. He would set out every man he could find to make sure your father paid the price for what he did to you, while rescuing your mother in the mean time. She would get her own little house with Silas’s guard staying around 24/7 to make sure nothing would happen to her. Silas would stay with you the entire night, just to talk to make sure that you wouldn’t feel lonely. He would hold you close and let you talk about your childhood, giving you reassurance. 

“He will never get close to you and your mother again. If he does, I will strangle him myself. Might do it myself, actually. My men are just toying with him a little right now. What they’re doing? Let’s just say that he gets a taste of his own medicine.”

Dr Kry: 

He would notice it when you change into the hospital gown. His heart would sink down to his stomach. He would ask you about it, and if you decided to tell him, he would sit with you and reassure you that nothing was your fault and that you were safe at the hospital. And then, he would kill your father when you were sleeping. If you didn’t tell him, he would dig out the information himself, until he got the answers he wanted … and then he would kill the father. Dr Kry wouldn’t admit that he had done it. After all, he is the sweetest doctor you’ve known, he would never have done something. But he would smile every time he thought about emptying him of blood.

“Why I’m smiling? I’m just thinking about some memories. How are you feeling? Still thinking of your dad? You shouldn’t be, it only brings you pain. The bastard’s dead now, and he will never hurt you again. Never again.”

King Edmund:

Would have had your father dragged through the gravel on the front yard behind a horse while he stood on the stairs with his arms crossed. He would have enjoyed seeing his face scratched open on the small stones, creating a bloodstream behind him. When Edmund would have been satisfied, he would have gone over with a sword, cut his head off and kicked it around like a ball. The body and head would be burned — nothing should remain of him. Then he would return to you and hold you tightly, kissing your head over and over again. 

“I have obliviated him. He can never return. He will never hurt you again, my jewel. Do you know how much I enjoyed hurting him? I would have loved for you to watch his suffering, but you are in no state to see that. His ashes will be used in the shit bin. That’s what he deserves. I will have everyone who knew about his deeds on you beheaded and hung at the city center. I promise. The one daring to shield that scum will be dealt with.”

Jerry: 

You would have been at your childhood home and she noticed that something was wrong. You accidentally let out that your father was a horrible man. She would shoot up from the couch right then and there and grab the nearest weapon, this time it happened to be a lamp. You ran after her, but couldn’t stop her from beating your father to death with the lamp. She would turn to you and her mother and wipe her forehead from sweat. She would reassure the two of you that the two of you get the best protection. Her men would move your mother far away, give her a new identity and shield her, all on Jerry’s demand. Jerry would lay down on the couch when you got home and hold you close to her breast. 

“He deserved this, and you know it too. Bitch deserved even more than that. You’re safe now. How about we celebrate this fucker’s death? Some champagne? Some cake? The bitch is dead, finally! Get up, let’s go buy fireworks!”

Hedwig:

First, she would hold you in her arms, crying with you, and then she would call up her hitmen. That man would not be alive in the morning hours. You would get the news from your mother and Hedwig would pretend to not know anything while hugging you. She would smile behind your back and look worried when you looked at her. The two of you would go pick up your mom and have her stay with Hedwig until everything was settled. Hedwig would take such good care of your mother. She would buy her presents and sit with her in the evenings to talk to her, to let her clear her head. 

“Your mother is doing okay, Y/N, don’t worry about her. How about the three of us go on a little trip together. You have both deserved it so much. I love you so much, and I cherish your mother a lot. I want her to understand how much I love you and your family. He’s gone, and now it’s time for the two of you to get the life you deserve.”

[olderthannetfic]

I am most definitely beating a dead horse with this ask, but I gotta say something cause it's just boiling up inside my chest right now.

We all don't really like the the author for Heartstopper because she put down Asian BL and it's "Bad kinky feithisatization" and basically saying her Western work is pure and non fetishy (Fucking shoot me.)

And it just reminded of an author who did that several years back, definitely to a lesser degree though. They still did it and I remember I stopped reading it because it felt so fuckin performative and it left such a bad fucking taste in my mouth.

Author of the Webtoon Castle Swimmer had a chapter come out maybe between 2021-2022 where the main character (they are guys, they are gay for each other) saw each other again after they were apart for quite some time. When they reunited, there was as scene of them kissing and it getting juuuuuust a tiny bit spicy, not much though. It was cute, it was nice.

I go down to the comments where authors can put notes down for the webtoons and the author had written something along the lines of how the story isn't gonna be icky sexual and there is going to be no fetishy bullshit when it comes to the two main characters and fucking blah blah blah and basically implying that other webtoons that do turn sexual with it's gaybies are impure scum.

Don't know if they still feel like that

But my question is - why the fuck do these supposed queer authors or authors that make queer content always trying to save face and say that their content is better than that "icky shit",

Like fuck, Castle Swimmer has pretty decent rep in its story, but I can't seem to enjoy it when I feel as if its just their as a "HEY LOOK AT MY STORY IT HAS THE RIGHTS THINGS TO LIKE"

and unfortunately that's how I feel with most lgbtq webtoons, books, etc. Idk maybe I'm just cynical and tired or maybe they just suck at writing and incorporating queer themes and characters - I have no idea.

This probably could be worderd a lot better to bring more nuance to the table, but I am so upset at Castle Swimmer because I like it a lot, I just can't past the bullshit.

--

Rest assured that the desire to shoot oneself in the foot is not restricted to authors of queer works.

"My version of this genre is so much better" is a common malady among all sorts of creators.

This particular flavor has a little more stupidass purity culture and sucking up to the mainstream, but it's not so different from the many flavors of "There's no good ___ fic, so I'm going to write some!" and "I, a ~literary~ author, know how to write genre fiction better than you hacks!"

[toomanyideasandfandoms]

Idk if you're still taking requests but imagine one day Kazuha finds Creator's death note diary and finds a bunch of names. Realizing those are the people who killed the Creator before, he went "Ykw, I'm giving Our Holy One some therapy with the help of my friends" and kidnaps grabs Fischl, Mona, Xinyan, and finally you for an adventure-therapy or something something-

*cutely inserts Tomo breakdancing in Celestia*

PFFT that would be obviously hilarious and adorable.

I can definitely see the group having so much fun, probably telling stories of their lives that aren't mentioned in game. Maybe the creator also gaining information on how these specific characters views others. Like Mona's views of Fontaine or something.

Bonus if where they went was towards those summertime event islands.

But if we're considering Death Seeking Creator (I should probably make it known if those who send in asks don't want me to talk about Death Seeking please just tell me cause otherwise I'll just assume and we know what happens when assuming) though I don't think it would be possible considering he also was someone who killed the creator. Now I don't think he did it out of pure religious reasons, he's more level headed than that. He's someone who only kills "imposters" out of mercy, like Kaeya actually.

He makes it as quick and painless as possible, sometimes having done sneak attacks (so in the diary, the entries would only mention what the day as like before they write about them suddenly seeing darkness and then waking up in another nation). Not too mention the creator would use every single opportunity to experience another death.

They definitely would question Kazuha on why he's doing this, maybe even have some small breakthrough of where they're screaming at him and hurling insults that were thrown their way. Just absolutely trying to beat a dead horse essentially of why they have to die and that they don't understand why everyone is suddenly saying the opposite.

Tbh this makes me think of how confusing any therapy would be for Death Seeking Creator, because I can imagine them as this childishly stubborn person who refuses to see it as any other way purely because everything they did, they tried to do to change the outcome, always resulted in death no matter what. Peaceful talks? They couldn't get a word in before being sliced down. Fighting like a wild animal? Like they could defeat a god with their bare hands. Hiding and never greeting another person? They're always found out somehow, it's like the characters are drawn to them. Disguises? Even that doesn't work. Nothing they did work. So it had to be destiny right? They had to have this role of constant death? Why? Who fucking knows? They're not a god, they were never supposed to be a god. Why question the ways of a being they have no comprehension of how they think? It would be better to just play the role given, to be the the target every hunter wants. To be that white rabbit that gets chased by Alice throughout the story. But how they go? Well that'll be up to them, if the gods want some sick entertainment, why not make it more interesting?