#“i thought you were some manly badass man”

[theivorydragonn]

Superbookers I offer a sacrifice

Years after Archangel Michael (she/her)

I'm a firm believer that superbook needs more color and anyways I think she'd try her best to look nothing like Lucifer or herself pre-war because have you seen them side by side?? They carbon copies

[reallyromealone]

Sorry the anon for the part 3 to bakugos brother. It’s part 3 to kirishima x male reader bakugos little brother plz.

Title: bakugos brother

Chapter: 3

Fandom: my hero Academia

Warnings: male reader, fluff, angst, complicated family relationships

Notes: I'm giving him a quirk for plot purposes

☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️

(Name) Knew his parents weren't as attentive to him as they were his brother, at some point he grew to be fine with it.

What he wasn't expecting was that his parents didn't want him going to U.A because he would outshine his brother; this left a bitter taste in his mouth when he learned this.

Kirishima didn't know what (name)s quirk was, all he knew is that (name) didn't like talking about it but what he wasn't expecting was (name) inviting him to a chess tournament he would be playing at, at U.A. "there's a nice cash prize, maybe after we can get food if Aizawa allows it" (name)s soft and calm voice said over the phone and Kirishima grinned, swooning ever so slightly at his boyfriends casual romanticism "I would love too! Oh there's a place that sells cakes that look like sheep!" He could hear (name) huff out a soft laugh "sure, whatever"

When (name) arrived at U.A with his visitors pass, he was greeted by Aizawa who would be accompanying him, where all players being escorted? "Hello again, Mr. Aizawa" (name) said blandly with a respectful bow, the hero always shocked at how different the Bakugo siblings were "I hope my brother isn't giving you to many grey hairs" Aizawa huffed, amused at the other who was so calm and collected while joking "you think you're gonna win?" The man asked the teen when they made it to the event room, set up with nice chess sets on multiple tables "I know I will"

(Name) Was calm as he defeated his opponents in less than 20 moves, refusing any draws and even managing to make one person cry.

Kirishima watched with rapt attention though he couldn't help but notice that none of (name)s family showed up, not even Bakugo who was in the same location as (name) at the moment and it made the redhead want to support (name) even more, having gotten a bouquet for him as a "you won!" Gift as he watched his handsome boyfriend lay absolute hell upon his opponent.

What they didn't know is that someone was also watching this, with eager eyes and chaos thoughts brewing as he watched every game with rapt attention.

"He was supposed to be the best from Shibuya but he got cocky" (name) said calmly as Kirishima asked him countless questions, he didn't really get chess but he thought it was hella manly and badass at how collected (name) took down his opponents "they aren't my enemies, I would have to care for them to be an enemy" (name) explained when Kirishima said they were his enemies, the redhead smiling with a stupidly happy expression on his face as (name) held a trophy and a cheque of 100k, this was a huge open after all.

"(Name), could you follow me" Aizawa said calmly and (name) looked a bit confused but followed regardless as Kirishima told him he would see him later.

"What's this about?" (Name) Asked as they walked through the halls "Nedzu wants to talk to you" Aizawa said as he knocked on a door, the doors opening automatically as the rat god himself sat at his chair with a smile "please do sit, tea? I know you like your coffee black Aizawa" Nedzu said happily and (name) seemed uncomfortable as he sat down "no thank you" he said softly "congratulations on your win, I see you have never lost a match-- quite impressive"

"Thank you" (name) kept composure as Nedzu sipped his tea "now why didn't you tell us you had an intelligence quirk?"

"Because I don't? I have my grandpa's quirk, a weaker version of my mom's, I basically just have good skin"

"Then it seems you were lied to" Nedzu said looking at the teens grades "you get perfect scores at everything and you learn things at a rate no other student can achieve not to mention the chess tournament" (name) was confused and frustrated as he listened to the principal explain his quirk. "Intelligence quirks are nearly as rare as healing quirks, I am going to have to contact your family as lying about quirks is no joking matter, do you think there's a reason they may have kept this a secret?"

(Name) Knew why, it was always the same reason for everything.

So he didn't outshine his brother.

They did tests after tests, Aizawa there for it all just to make sure the principal didn't go overboard as he often tended to do "... You have indeed an intelligence quirk" Nedzu said simply and (name) felt his world crash just a little, his fears confirmed "so what happens now?"

"I would like you to attend U.A as my student" Nedzu said simply and (name) looked confused "he likes that you don't have that cockiness that those who grow up with intelligence quirks have, you have compassion" Aizawa explained simply and Nedzu nodded in agreement "perfect for a hero" not to mention he saw (name) carefully move snails and usher a mouse away from danger through the cameras, the teen though blunt and cold was willing to help anything in need.

"Why didn't you apply to U.A?" He was often asked and now when the two asked, he answered honestly.

"Because my parents didn't think I would be good enough for it" (name) said genuinely and the room grew quiet "and three people from the same school? Felt incredibly unlikely" he said awkwardly and fidgeted with the trophy in his arms "did you wish to attend?"

"Didn't everyone?"

(Name) Left the office sometime after as Kirishima was waiting with his homework in his lap on a bench just down the hall and perked up when he saw his boyfriend "it's late, do you have a parent to walk you home?" Aizawa asked the teen who shook his head, (name)s parents typically didn't pick him up and simply got him a bus pass-- hell he learned to forge their signatures just so he could do things.

Like chess opens, it's how he made his cash.

"I'll walk you home" he said simply and (name) sighed softly as Kirishima seemed excited at this "could I join sir?!" He was practically vibrating as the teacher sighed before agreeing.

"What did you do!" Mrs. Bakugo barked out angrily, seeing her son being escorted by a pro hero and a hero in training "your son is being escorted home as he had no one to do so after his chess match, crime is rising in the area so it's better to be safe than sorry"

"I see, im sorry he inconvenienced you"

"Actually, I'm also here on behalf of U.A, do you have a moment?"

[mysticmoondancer]

🎃 Happy Halloween from the MBAV Crew! 🎃

Thought I'd have them all dress up in a group costume and their theme is of course DC superheroes. More specifically, those who were part of the Justice League! I originally wanted to do the founding (or rather the original) members who started the Justice League, but sadly couldn't, seeing as there was only one female member (Wonder Woman) that was part of the Justice League's creation. And of course, for the MBAV gang there are TWO females. So, it just wouldn't work. So, I just went with the more well known/popular members of the Justice League instead.

🔽 More down below about their costume choice and a better look at them individually, as well. 🔽

Rory is Flash because he lost to Benny in a game of "rock, paper, scissors" to see who gets to be Batman. After losing to Benny, he wanted to be Green Arrow, but no one trusted him enough to have a fake bow with arrows. Also, Erica really didn't want him to be the Green Arrow too because from what she remembers, the Green Arrow used to date Black Canary (her costume choice), and she didn't want to hear it from Rory or have him annoy her about that little fact all night long, as well. So, she STRONGLY had him choose another DC superhero to be, instead. Like the Green Lantern, but he didn't want to be the Green Lantern because he thinks his superpower is weak and lame due to having to rely on a ring that you have to recharge every now and then (which is stupid in his opinion, despite what Ethan may think). So, the Flash it is! Plus, he's super excited because now he can use his vampire speed to zip around everywhere like the Flash does!

Benny is Batman because he wanted to be all dark and mysterious. Plus, he thinks Bruce Wayne is awesome because of how rich he is and how he's a known playboy/lady's man to boot. Which is why I chose Benny to be Batman. I think he'd admire Bruce's lifestyle and also just like how Bruce has a bit of dark side to him, so does Benny too, as seen on a few occasions in the series. Oh! And he chose the costume with the fake abs because he wanted abs and thinks it makes him seem even more manly as Batman.

Ethan is Superman because he wanted to do a couple's costume with Sarah while also still doing the group one. And yes, I know that famously Superman's main romantic interest is technically Lois Lane. But it wouldn't work here if Sarah was going to be Wonder Woman and after some research, I found that in some rare instances there have been comics that had his love interest as Wonder Woman and NOT Lois, instead! Some even declared this rare pairing as the power couple of the DC universe! Anyway, that's why I picked Superman for Ethan. Plus, Ethan kind of has some of the same personality traits that Clark Kent/Superman does, as well. Depending on your version of Clark Kent/Superman that you choose, that is. For me, I was going for the Clark/Superman in the animated series "My Adventures with Superman".

Sarah is Wonder Woman because Ethan thought it would fit her, and she agreed. Plus, she gets to be a badass Amazonian warrior princess, as well! She also likes what Wonder Woman stands for (like justice and virtue) and can sort of see a bit of herself in her, as well. Like being a compassionate, strong, courageous, and honest person. If not a little bit stubborn, also.

Erica is Black Canary because she thinks she's badass and cool looking. Not to mention hot-looking, as well. Oh! And is a blonde like her, also! Originally, she was gonna be Wonder Woman but decided to let Sarah be her instead. Mainly because she too thought that Wonder Woman would be a better fit for her bestie rather than herself. Plus, Erica gets to mostly dress up in one of her favorite colors, too. Black. She also thinks that Black Canary has a way better fashion sense in the outfit department than Wonder Woman does when it comes to their superhero costume/look, anyway.

[nintendowife]

I completed Piofiore: Fated Memories on Nintendo Switch about a month ago. Piofiore is a popular otome visual novel about mafia in 1920's Italy. The promise of a mature story paired with beautiful art style enticed me to buy the game. I was also curious to find out why the otome fandom calls a certain love interest in the game a "trashbando".

The protagonist Liliana "Lili" Adornato is an upstanding young woman raised by church and she gets tangled in the world of organized crime. Most of the love interests in the game represent three competing mafia families: Falzone, Visconti and Lao Shu. The mafia setting lends a natural frame for mature themes that include violence, human trafficking, torture and sexual assault.

Each love interest has a bad ending, good ending and best ending. In addition to this they all have a short after story. Yang's route was easily my favorite - lots of action and fun events. Orlok's bad ending was memorable with its brutality - poor guy. Some of the routes weren't super interesting. Dante's route had the ingredients to grab my attention but the execution wasn't the best. I ended up slightly disappointed with the overall story not completely revealing a certain key factor of the plot. Maybe the rest of the "mystery" is reserved for the sequel, Piofiore: Episodio 1926? I could have done with less romance and more story even though Piofiore apparently isn't that loaded with romance fluff.

I found it interesting how a character could appear wildly different on a different route. Some may claim this is inconsistent writing but I find it logical to incorporate different points of view to characters' personality and have them act differently according to their motives in different situations. Being a loving and caring person towards someone doesn't mean they couldn't have a sadistic tendency towards people who oppose them.

What comes to favorite characters, at first glance I thought Gilbert would be my top pick - manly man with a badass eye patch. Gilbert had his moments with some funny light-hearted scenes and his gentlemanly ways. Especially the way he spoke to Dante made me chuckle: "Yo Dante! What's with the face? You sick or something?". But I ended up liking Yang the most. Yang was such a peculiar character and his attitude and dialogue made me laugh. I guess I'm part of the trashbando-loving "Yang gang" now. My husband pointed out that it's usually the bald 50+ year-olds or the red-haired ones that strike my fancy and that was true in this case too. The various side characters were a good addition to the cast.

There's a good amount of high quality CG images to unlock in the game. I was especially impressed with the intricate details in clothing and jewelry. A common occurrence was me commenting "oo wow, look at those amazing details in the dress" during a scene where the protagonist and a love interest kiss.

The game's user interface is pure eye candy. The usual quality of life features like skipping previously read content, dialogue history, quick save/load and chapter select are present. The music was pretty good too. Voice acting was top notch but I was unhappy the protagonist wasn't voiced (and her portrait wasn't shown during her dialogue). I recall a few typos and grammar mistakes in the game but overall I'd say the localization was done well.

My top complaint is that there was an absurd amount of dialogue about food but they hardly ever showed it in pictures. All kinds of delicious dishes and desserts kept being mentioned but I think they showed food only twice. Show me the food, dammit! Oh, and Nicola's fashion sense irked me. His outfit was so classy and then he had to accessorize with a tie that looks like it was barfed on.

Finishing all the routes and unlocking all content in the game took me 55 hours. I started playing in February and finally finished in October. I'm not the fastest reader and I have a chronic case of falling asleep when I try to play in bed in the evenings.

I liked the game but at some points I felt like the story was dragging. I didn't enjoy Piofiore quite as much as I did Café Enchanté and Variable Barricade for example. Maybe it's because Piofiore is a lot more serious in tone and doesn't have much in the way of humor. The art and Yang's route were the highlights for me. I'm still keen on playing the sequel at some point.

If you like some darker themes in your visual novels, Piofiore may be worth giving a shot.

[achillesisnotcomingdown]

Trans force 141

Just my hcs about their individual transitions ect ect

written by a trans man

Price

he considered himself as a butch lesbian for a long time

a lot of internalized transphobia. (ex "well i would've liked to be a man, but im not. if i can accept that then ppl can stop being delusional")

when in his early 20's he met a girl, and when things started to get 'serious' between them she told him she's trans. He liked her too much already to just brush her off, so he finally allowed himself to ask questions he was asshamed to have...

that night he finally understood a lot of things. that ppl don't usually wish they were born as the other sex, that most girls dont try to masculin themseve, that its ok to feel that way, ect ...

also im not sure how to explain that but he don't actually only like girls : he convinced himself that 'i like being masculin bc im a lesbian'. Figuring out his gender somehow made him take conscious of his repressed attraction to men (dont mind me im projecting)

transition when you're already in the military isn't easy. hrt, coming out, changing uniforms and dorms... That did ended in some verbal/physical abuses, well, it would have happened if Price weren't that badass and ready to fight back til he gets respected.

the only long leaves he personally asked for was to get and heal his top surgery and a hysterectomy 

he has always loved the name Johnathan. he doesn't know why but it sound pretty to him. naturally he knew he wanted to be call that

Ghost

when he was still a child he tried to tell his mother about how he wants to be a boy, but she brushed it off, blaming it on his father's abuses (she genuinely meant it)

before he even knows what transidentity is he got himself a v good passing and got everyone treating him like a boy, but he still assumed its more a trauma-respond kind of feeling

when he was about 16yo he learnt about transidentity and- yeah that just made sens

dont ask me how he found hrt but he sure did

before getting into the military he spent a lot of time in gay/queer bars. he didn't really liked these places but it was the only places he could find ppl like him that could somehow help him

when he came back home after years in the military (like in his comic) his transition was fully done. his mother still thoughts it was a trauma-respond, but if it makes her child happier then she accepted it. Tommy called it bullshits and called him slurs, but it went better after he recovedred from drugs. his dad.... well :')

his dad still called him his daughter until his very last breath

he dont have any surgery done. he'd like to but after everything he's been trought, the idea of being put artificially on sleep, especially while knowing ppl are going to do things with his body, sound terrifying to him.

Never uses binders. When its a dysphoria day he uses tape but most of the time he dont bind at all.

Gaz

First of all, this guy has two moms (im not taking criticisms on that), so the hard part of a transition wouldn't be to come out but mostly that he knew ppl would blame it on his mothers

... and yeah, lot of ppl said its bc he dont has a father. But don't worry he never let them talk for long. He almost got expelled from his highschool for beating up a kid being transphobic/homophobic

His moms sometimes said like "why don't you ask the household's man for that ?" And it gaves him such gender euphoria before realizing they use it to makes him do chores without complains

Now it has become a kind of running gag. Whenever they ask him to do something he's like "ohh you need a strong manly alpha man",

I feel like Kyle was the name of the mc of his favorite book as a pre-teen.

The most normal and chill transition out of everyone here : doubted his gender identity, talk about it with his moms, got estrogens blockers, went on t few years later...

ikr this one hc is a bit blend compared to the others here, but tbh i just really love Gaz and i want him to be happy

he also don't bind often. but unlike Ghost he has a small chest and ppl usually assumes its pecs

he dont plan on getting top surgery (not necessary) but wants a phalloplasty

Soap

bro has known he was a boy ever since he left the womb.

when he was a kiddo he was only playing with boys and wore boys clothes and stuffs. ppl were confused ("did the MacTavish also told you they had a babygirl ? bc that's clearly a boy playing with our kiddos")

his (big) family inst closed minded, but theyre from a rather small town in the Highlands and are kinda traditionalists

so yeah theyre a bit confuse but if their child is happier playing with boys, why being dicks about it

he eventually came out in his teen years and his parents were a bit confused but at the same time it... makes sens. like yeah that kid has been like a boy since baby

his family (especially parents) struggled to understand whats the difference between being trangender and a tomboy. theyre not transphobics, the concept just is very strange

the story of how he somehow found hrt is even darker than Ghost's

used to unsafe binde sm im surprise he can still breath

he was on hrt when he entered military, and kinda had to fight to be in the men's dorms, but it worked bc hes a badass

no surgeries done (bc he doesn't want to take long leaves), but he plans to get top and bottoms surgeries somedays

[syggwolf]

Not to hijack this post or anything, and I'm gonna share some seriously depressing stuff here, along with talk of injuries and blood, just as a warning, but I can easily pinpoint the (And I cannot stress this enough.) SINGLE most traumatic thing that ever happened to me in a long, long, long line of catastrophically traumatic things: It was a very specific incident of being told not to cry. And it wasn't like I wasn't already told not to cry already or anything because, you know, you have a dick, you're not allowed to cry past the age of six and all that. And I was about thirteen so, way beyond that point. But this time, I mean, it was sort of a big deal. You see, unfortunately for me, a very heavy falling object had split my forehead open, and the amount of blood pouring down my face had convinced me that I was pretty for sure probably maybe going to die. Also it really hurt. But because I went into shock, I started laughing instead. I want to stress: the laughing was a panic reaction, not conscious, nor on purpose. Then I proceeded to leave an unbroken trail of blood all the way up to the front door of my house, about a half a block away. All the other kids fled as soon as it happened, except for one; another boy who was a friend of mine, only slightly older than me, who walked with me up to my house and came inside. Well, my mom shrieked and put an icepack on it, which, if you've never had burning cold shoved against exposed skull, it kinda really hurts even more than getting your skull exposed in the first place. And so I'm sitting there on the couch next to my friend, who's still staring in horror at my head and the blood all over my face. By this point I have definitely stopped laughing or doing much of anything, and the sheer amount of "I am so fucked." is starting to sink in because they are calling a fucking ambulance. My dad is sitting there, yelling at my friend to explain what the fuck happened and my friend gets to the part where I started laughing and my dad looks at me, and no bullshit, at this exact moment, there's a spike of pain from my head, and I'm miserable and it's sinking in that I'm going to the fucking HOSPITAL in an AMBULANCE and I am definitely in trouble. (Which is another fun thing that happens in an abusive household. Imagine thinking you're in trouble for getting hurt. Spoilers, I did in fact get yelled at, excessively. My intelligence, character, moral fiber, strength, and foresight were all called into question.) So right there, with all of that hitting at once and my father staring straight at me, my chest hitches and I fuck up and I let out a voice cracking little whimper. My father looked at me with an absolutely haunting combination of anger, disappointment, and some kind of disgust, and he said in this very rough, clipped tone that was more threat than anything else, "Don't you dare. You will NOT cry." And that broke something inside of me that to this day I've never been able to fix. If the role of a "man" was not to cry even under circumstances as extreme as that, than I clearly was broken in some way and I would endeavor to never cry again. And even Now? I simply cannot cry until I fully and completely lose control of every aspect of myself and snap, and even then it never lasts longer than a few moments. I can't make noise while I'm doing it either. It's a silent affair that can only happen in the most extreme circumstances when I am alone. His reasoning for saying that to me? For looking at his wounded child, blood covered face and pain and misery and all, and saying those words? He wanted the story to get around the neighborhood that I laughed at having my head split open because he thought it would make me look cool and really badass. He literally told me that to my face a few hours later, and said it was for my own good because none of the kids would fuck with me if I looked manly. He also chewed me out for possibly ruining it for having the gall to break while my friend was still next to me. The patriarchy is fucking evil and must be destroyed.

Everyone is so weird about people who cry easily. Fellas, is it evil and manipulative to *checks notes* have an involuntary stress response?

[more-intensity]

rewatching breaking bad rightn now. i watched it once as a teenager, and didnt completely understand the whole blowback about people worshipping walt as a badass etc. i kind of took it for granted that it was "not good" (tm) to do so because people were listing reasons and so on. but i still thought he was kiiiind of cool, you know. i still thought that even while flawed, yeah, he did try to provide for his family.

rewatching it now it is really interesting to see how shallow i was back then. how incredibly divorced from adult (social) reality. watching it now, seeing walts emotions so overtly tell the viewer at every turn that he is doing this for himself or maybe rather to spite everyone else and seeing every out he is handed thrown in the wind, i wonder how these things could even be overlooked by any half attentive viewer.

walter is a pathetic man and he deep down he knows it and yet he refuses to acknowledge it and change. when he says in one of the first episodes of the 3rd season that he "cant be the bad guy", he acts out change but all that does is trying to absolve himself of guilt while still denying that he is even guilty at all. he is still his worst self: the ultimate limp-dicked patriarch, who - in a very manly way - "keeps the family together" by threat of mutually assured destruction. this time im really gonna do it. american family values.

all of this has been said, of course. i guess, what i still do not understand is the indignation and the bewilderment with which leftists and liberals still approach this phenomenon of identifying with this particular originally negatively coded male archetype. it does seem very obvious that lonely, pathetic, angry, males that dont want to change, feel represented by those characters that are lonely, pathetic, angry, male and that dont want to change. and if they get to also get some one liners in, or they get rich, or they score with beautiful women because or despite (they dont care which, if they can or even want to tell the difference) their shortcomings, these deeply flawed and pathetic characters become heroes for deeply flawed and pathetic men.

so, what do you do to make these people see the "right" interpretation of it all? the easiest answer seems to be, to make it so these people become less pathetic, angry and lonely (and male, too, sure) to be able to see something else than themselves in these characters. not to get too "male loneliness epidemic" on here. there is a loneliness epidemic, period, its just that white males seem to be the worst at suffering in silence. there is also the obvious fact that patriarchal ideology is inherently violent, which comes wiht increased attention, which is incidentally one of the reasons characters like this are interesting to look at.

[pollenallergie]

18+ only!!

do not interact if you’re under 18 years old!

I personally disagree with the headcanon that Eddie can’t cook. In fact, I think that man passed Home Ec. with flying colors in high school. Most of the Hellfire guys took shop class because they thought it was more manly or badass or whatever the fuck, but not Eddie. Eddie needed to learn to sew because Wayne sucked at it and the old lady two lots over was getting real sick of him asking her to use her frail, arthritic fingers to sew yet another goddamn patch on his vest or his backpack or whatever else he wanted to decorate with the logos of his favorite metal bands. Glenda was a sweet lady, of course, and she loved Eddie like he was her own grandson, but even her kindness had its limits. So, he took Home Ec. Plus, he kind of underestimated it and thought it would be like way easier than shop class.

Turns out it was actually insanely more difficult because while Jeff and Gareth got to spend forty-five minutes a day working on bird houses and toolboxes, Eddie had to learn how to operate a sewing machine, create a household budget, change a dirty diaper, and, oh yeah, make like three different kinds of sauce from fucking scratch. Labor intensity aside, Eddie oddly thrived in that class. I mean, he took to the sewing machine like a champ and he made a mean roux for mac and cheese. Not to mention, Miss Bowman absolutely adored him.

That was her first year teaching at Hawkins High, having just graduated college, so she was already plenty nervous. However, it got much, much worse when the, at the time, 16-year-old metalhead, who smelled like a well-used ashtray, sauntered into her class fifteen minutes late and very clearly stoned out of his mind. Imagine her surprise when that same kid expressed a genuine interest in learning how to keep track of household purchases and sharpen a kitchen knife. Unbeknownst to her, his fascination stemmed from the fact that 1) being able to keep track of financial transactions would be super beneficial for him as a rookie pot dealer and 2) the kid liked sharp, shiny things. So, in her blissful ignorance, Miss Bowman actually kind of developed a soft spot for the misfit, much like a little kid might for a scrappy alleycat.

Not to mention, due to him genuinely wanting to learn how to do some of this shit, Eddie rarely showed up to class late or less-than-sober after that first day. He even began to enjoy that class a little bit; the teacher was nice, she didn’t hate him (which was rare), and most of the kids in the class were pretty accepting of him once they realized that he was pulling a stable A-. In fact, the future head-cheerleader, Chrissy Cunningham, even directly asked him for help with her sourdough starter once; which he thought was pretty cool (and also terrifying).

A couple years down the line, his impeccable home-making skills would come in handy when he finally managed to snag the person of his dreams, you. In fact, your first date with Eddie involved him making an elaborate feast of spaghetti in doused in a delightful, homemade bolognese sauce with a side of homemade garlic bread (Eddie made the bread from scratch and everything) and some wine (that he definitely did not steal from a liquor store two towns over because Eddie would never do that), lighting some candles, turning on some soft music (one of Wayne’s old country records; the only one that Eddie figured wasn’t too twangy), and setting tiny kitchen table like it was a fancy table-for-two at some pricey restaurant in the city. It was perfect and, honestly more than you’d ever expected. When he asked you out, you expected a simple movie date or maybe going to watch some band who was not nearly as good as Corroded Coffin play at local bar together, not an amazing home-cooked meal and a night alone with a shaggy-haired, doe eyed aidoneus. It’s safe to say that the pasta wasn’t the only thing that got saucy that night, if you catch my drift. Eddie gave you a taste of his other homemade sauce, if you know what I mean.

So yeah, Eddie Munson can cook. The man is a fucking wiz in the kitchen.

[cinematicsstuff]

I know I'm coming back to this, but for me one of the main reasons why the version of Anakin imagined by George Lucas and played by Jake Lloyd and Hayden Christensen was criticized so much at the time is toxic masculinity.

Darth Vader is an impressive man-machine, quite tall (over 2m), with a deep voice (almost robotic). People imagined for two decades what his past could be like and he couldn't be represented by a sensitive young man, traumatized by the death of his mother, very much in love, and played by an actor with a delicate look and voice.

Look at the title of the Razzies which were attributed to Hayden's performance :

- For "Star Wars/Episode II: Yada-Yada-Yoda".

- No Sith, He's Supposed to Be Darth Vader?!?!.

I interpret the first as:

- "how boring he is to complain all the time",

and the second as:

- "can we stop to pretend that this delicate man is the badass Darth Vader?"

And what's a more telling evidence than Lucas Film's decision to give Anakin a much deeper voice for #TheCloneWars ? More, in this version, Anakin is more confident, less neurotic, more manly. Mind you, I'm not saying Matt Lanter didn't do a terrific job as Anakin Skywalker, I'm saying what I think Lucas Film submitted to at the time.

They thought it could "fix" Anakin Skywalker, while I'm thinking they took away some of what made the character so endearing and interesting.

[kawaii-harrys]

FANCY SHIT

Word count: 659

Warning: none, but its angsty, a little self body criticising.

_______________________

Y/N wasn’t the one to put effort into an outfit or anything like the other girls. The most she could have ever gone to is wear some good-looking t-shirt and jeans. Harry loved the way she never gave a shit about what people said, but sometimes she did feel insecure. Sometimes, Y/N wanted to wear dresses like the other girls too, but she was afraid, she wouldn’t pull off the elegance.

It starts back to her growing days.

Her parents were what you could call strict. She wasn’t allowed to wear clothes with arms that exposed underarms or frocks that showed too much leg. As a child, the delight of free summer dress and frocks went to hell as she grew into a teen. So, after growing up, looking at people flaunting their femininity, it was difficult for her not to want to.

Once when she had worn a long gown at someone’s wedding, she was afraid, she wore the wrong dress, and if someone was going to single her out. Someone did, and he was a distant family. He asked if she bought it to just go to sleep in. It was meant as a joke. She laughed it away. But the insecurity stayed. She never wore a dress after that. Even on the first date with Harry, she settled with baggy sweatshirts with jeans.

She never put on makeup too, afraid she would put on way too much lipstick, or put way too much eyeliner and become a laughing stock. She had overheard Harry’s friend quite a couple of times say how she acted so less of a woman and more of a man. Harry would puff his chest in pride and say, he loved that one thing in her.

Harry had never seen her in anything less than a t-shirt, so that day when he reached home earlier, he didn’t think he would ever see anything more than that.

Y/N stood there in a black lace dress, looking at the mirror once and then at the belly fat. She pinched the extra fat and looked at herself again. She wanted to cut it all off to look like the rest of the people around Harry. This is how she couldn’t carry the elegance of feminine clothes. Everyone else, including Harry, thought that she had an hourglass body under that big little shirt. After all, Harry and she hadn’t had sex yet, she didn’t like anything happening. She didn’t like him seeing her skin.

Oh, how wrong they were!

Harry, however had his eyes fixed on her back, eyes filling in with lust. When Y/N aggressively took off the dress to put on one of Harry’s shirts, she turned around, seeing Harry fixed on his spot. That’s when Harry got a clear look at her face and her thoughts. Y/N was just in a pair of mismatched underwear. An orange-black bra with gray cotton panties.

Harry stepped forward, wrapping his fragile little baby in a sweet embrace. “You’re not what you think, my love. You’re the coolest badass lady I know”, he spoke as she sniffled. “For a minute there, you had me so turned on, but then you cry like this”, Harry pouted a little to which Y/N slapped his chest, laughing. “I just look so awful in dresses”, Y/N muttered, biting her lips. “Then I’ll wear them for you. And when you feel like, you can join me”, Harry winked at her, with a boyish smile. “You still look so much better than me”, Y/N muttered. “You can be the manly man, and I can be the womanly man in this relationship”, Harry broke into a smile again. “Ah, so gay”, Y/n laughed into his chest. Feeling Y/N laugh and her skin, Harry felt blessed to have her in his life, more so, in his embrace. And he wouldn’t let anything, break his little birdie.

____

I'm still in the process of making picture perfect part 3, but this is something I needed to write. the y/n here is me. I'm still waiting for the day when I am confident enough to wear something besides t-shirts and sweatshirts and jeans, and not just be jealous of my friends who can pull them off.

My requests are open.

[the-late-one]

Me since like ten years : Why do I feel so close to the LGBTQIA+ community ? Why do I identify to gay men all the time ?

Me after binge watching OFMD again : Did a silly tv show about gay pirates on a queer boat was the final straw that made me realise I was non binary ?

My brain : Pfrrt ! Girl ?

Me : What ?

My brain : You are since forever.

Me : But I'm an ally... wait...

My brain : Want some wake up call ? Here, take a big box of flashback tape and watch it all. Here we go !

First of all, when you were a baby (Yes a baby) everybody thought you were a little boy, until your mom let your hair grow.

Then when you were 3 years old, going to school for the first time, who was your first friend ? A little boy yeah. And the year after ? Oh a girl, yeah but the less girly girl of them all. The year after, again boys, only boys. Because you were never fitting with other little girls. But you were on a point where you didn't wanted to play with the girls and their dollies, and the boys didn't want to play with you and let you access to cars and plastic dinosaurs. The only time you were playing "mama and papa" with the girls, you were always the papa. And not because they were telling you to be, no, YOU WANTED to be the papa !

At home now. You weren't the princess, you were the king ! You were never identifying to female characters in movies and TV shows. Or if you did, it was for the badass ones, the "tomboys".

You grew up, always feeling like the "other girl", developing social anxiety because people were rejecting you, because you were the weirdo. Only a few BOYS wanted to be your friend.

Skirts ? Dresses ? Make up ? You never got interested in all of this at that time.

You became a teen and then again, not fitting. It got worse because the gape between you and the other girls was becoming bigger and bigger. And the boys didn't wanted to be with you anymore because well, you were a girl.

Oh yes a few wanted. The gay ones !

You were becoming more and more a tomboy, taking your father's place at home. But deep inside, you were a girl, but what kind ?

And you became a young woman, and you found other people like you and you were like "That’s a bit extreme but they look like me". No girl, they're not extremes, they are themselves.

You got your first boyfriend, whi admitted his bisexual ass chose you because you were interestingly both man and woman (DING DONG HELLO ?!). And you were having male fantasy ? You were into gay shit imagining it was you ? Oh come on ! It's because part of you is gay, because part of you is male.

But at the same time you embraced your new body with all those forms, and you learn to put make up and feel pretty in dresses and everything you never did before.

You always complain you don't have beard, or you wish you could have a more androgynous body.

You have to remember yourself that you are a woman sometimes because you start saying things like "I wish I could look like him" or " dress like him" .

HIM !

You never take other women as exemples, always men. Yes okay a few women, but who was the last one ? You don't remember.

Even for make up you're watching tutorials made by men...

And your mom that one day said "I feel like I have a son sometimes", and is mind fully opened of how much manly you can be. And is totally okay with that. And your sis, same !

You are twenty seven now, and you feel fine and sexy in your woman body, but there is always something inside you that say "If only I had a switch button to be a man today". Because you wanna feel like a fine and sexy man too.

You just feel everyday, since you are a little kid, that inside you, there is a mix of a boy and a girl, and you just learned a few years back that it as a name, and now you can name it, because you are not alone.

Me : I am non binary...

My brain : YES ! Yes you are !

Me : Oh my... That explains a lot.

My brain : And you're totally insane by the way 'cause you are having a conversation with yourself at three in the morning right now, but we'll talk about that later.

[idesofrevolution]

Here y’all go. Hope you like it.

Look at him, isn’t he adorable? I’d been watching him and his college friends playing ball every Saturday from my balcony. Each time, I’m hearing him talk about “slamming pussy” and “playin’ the game” as if he knows what that means. Jock boys always think the world of themselves, and sometimes for good reason. Every now and again, I look back on my own days at that age, fondly remembering all the bullshit trouble got myself into. I’m telling you- once you hit a certain age, you just want to relive those debaucherous days again; and hearing this little shit wasting those years degrading the ladies... I knew I could do so much better with his assets.

So into my mind popped a little idea. We’re living in a world of infinite possibilities, and using a few tricks and a whole lot of ingenuity you can really access some more unattainable goals. For instance, knowing the local voodoo priestess can be an invaluable advantage. Miss Marie had lived across the hall for as long as anyone could remember, and she had the respect and fear of everyone she met. So for a few hundred dollars and debt or two to her, she gave me a little gris gris which she insinuated could help little old me up my game. 

With bag in hand, I had to make my move. That Saturday I watched with bated breath as the boys were shooting hoops and talking shit until the sun went down. When the streetlamps went on, one by one they departed and left the ladykiller waiting on his Uber. As he sat there flipping through Tinder on his phone, I whispered the incantation that Miss Marie had taught me. Three times I repeated it, never once breaking my gaze on him. Upon the fourth recitation, I saw him suddenly throw his phone on the ground in rage. He tossed the basketball across the street and started to pace back and forth. Calling down to him, I “checked in on him.”

“Hey! You alright?” He looked up to my balcony and grimaced. 

“Shut the fuck up ya fruity bitch! Phone’s dead that’s all! Mind your business!” I chuckled and leaned against the railing, watching my hateful prey unknowingly within my clutches. Thinking his Uber was on it’s way, he sat down on the curb and pouted to himself. Five minutes turned to forty minutes and with his ride nowhere in sight, he played right into my hand. “Ay! Fag! Got a charger or somethin?” A smirk crawled across my face and I waved him over to my building and buzzed him up.

Now truth be told, I had no idea what to expect. Marie didn’t exactly explain how the gris gris would work, nor did she break down how to initiate the plan. So when he knocked on my door, I’d be lying if I said I was entirely understanding of what I was doing. I swung the heavy old door open and there he stood. Glistening with sweat and a scowl on his pretty boy face with his beat up skateboard in tow. 

“So where’s the charger?” He looked me up and down, disapprovingly looking at my big belly and old biker tattoo sleeves. Back in the day, I rode with my crew from coast to coast, fuckin’ every stud, twink, and bear that came my way. But the years hadn’t been too kind to me, and from the look on his face he sure didn’t see me the way that those boys back then did. Convincing myself to swallow my pride, I tossed him an iPhone charger and pointed him to the living room outlet. Plugging it in, he plopped down on my couch, and completely ignored my existence. Muttering under his breath, I could tell his Uber had cancelled.

“You can stay here until your car gets here.” I leaned against the hallway arch, taking in his steaming muscles. He clearly worked out in addition to all the days and hours of basketball. And damn... did he smell like hours of and hours of basketball. It was my favorite scent- raw testosterone, absolute masculinity, untempered musk; and his was STRONG.

“Bet your ass I’m getting the fuck out of your creepin’ ass house when this car gets here.” He thought he was so hood, so badass. He had no clue. Soon, though, he’d learn how to be a real man. Soon he’d be more than just a basic pretty boy frat kid. He started coughing gently, trying to hide it behind his phone screen, but the coughs grew louder and heavier. “Yo, get me some water!” I smiled.

“Get it yourself, bitch.” He whipped his head in my direction and tried to jump up, but realized he could barely move. It was as if he had no breath. “Oh, you’re feelin weak, huh? Why don’t you call your friends and they can come pick you up.” He tried to reach for his phone, but his arm had all but given out. Panic set in behind his cruel, mean spirited eyes and for the first time I saw him for who he really was behind the muscles, good lucks, and put on swagger: a little homophobic bitch who was in over his head. I walked over to him and plopped down on the couch next to him. His smell was strong and virile, full of youthful pheromones that he knew were a gift straight from God. I tested the waters and lifted his limp arm, exposing his wet pits. Assaulted, I tell you, I was assaulted by the sharp fragrance that poured from the hairy confines. He could do no more than a whiny whimper as I buried my nose and tongue into his armpit. 

“Well, fuck, kid. It’s been a fuckin’ bitch knowing you. But it’s gonna be one hell of a good time bein’ you.” I saw the last of his pathetic consciousness fade away. Where it went I neither knew nor cared; all that was left was his empty, hollow husk. Curious, I brought my fingers to his plump lips and pried. A sound I can only describe as stretching elastic rang through the room as I pulled and pulled. Looking inside, he was hollow, albeit padded with slick flesh that outlined his impressive musculature. Letting go, his face snapped back to normal. He was ready.

I eagerly stripped, thinking of all the adventures I could relive from within him; thinking of the numerous opportunities that I could snatch with his glorious body and my confident mind. Laying him down, I stuck my toe into his mouth and pushed. After a few thrusts downward, my foot slid down his throat. It took a solid minute for me to weasel my second foot into the tight confines of his slimy mouth and down his throat, but they were soon both slipping down his torso, through his muscled legs and landing in his tight feet. I was several sizes larger than he, so his tiny size 7s felt like a pair of tiny, wet rubber socks to my size 13s. Yet, after a little adjusting, they looked amazing at my size. I brought one to my face, pressing the damp soles on my nose, taking in the salty, rank funk that emanated from between his toes. I stood up, his mouth around my ankles making my a little wobbly. I grabbed his waist and pulled up, watching his legs slip over mine. The sheer size of my pudgy calves and thighs seemed to be suctioned into his, adding my mass to his musculature. He would be so much better at my 6′2 than his 5′9.

After a hefty tug, my bloated ass was sucked into his, tightening and firming into an ass any stud would kill to plow, and anyone would kill to plunge their tongue into. Sauntering over to my mirror, I saw a toned, gorgeous lower half, with my tubby top pouring over our waist. My cock was pressed tightly against my groin, since I’d forgotten to slip it into his when my ass was... compacted. I stuck my meaty hands beneath our skin and tried to grab my shaft, leading it towards his. The kid wasn’t packin’ anything impressive. I guess his ladies didn’t have high standards for dick. But I’ll tell you when my thick rod was slurped into his, it was like I was thrusting inside the tightest fleshjack I’ve ever used. Looking down, I smiled at a girthy, 10 inch, uncut fuckstick. I swiped my finger underneath my new foreskin and took a deep sniff. Fuck. Yes. It was unreal. The cocksmell was so strong yet so addictive, it was as if it was dripping manliness in odorous form. 

I knew that there was building pressure from within, and that the midsection would be the hardest thrust. So, I readied myself. Getting my footing underneath, I took a deep breath and held it in. With as much strength as I could muster, I tugged upward and my bulging belly was gulped into his skin with a loud “shlorp.” This took my body a moment to adjust, with a hefty beer gut protruding from my stomach, but after a deep belch, a set of washboard abs was there before me. To my surprise, and glee, some of my tattoos had transferred to my new skin, which gave me hope for the sleeves I’d grown to love.

Speaking of which, it was time for me to thrust my arms into his, which seemed entirely easier than my stomach. I slipped on his arms like gloves, the sensation of touch returning to my fingertips as they slipped into his. Looking at the mirror, it seemed only a fraction of my sleeve transferred over. Oh well, better than nothing! His shoulders snapped over mine, and I stood there in all my nude glory- with his jaw around my throat. I was ready. I was so ready to begin anew. I grabbed the jaw, matching his bottom lip to mine, and pulled his face over mine like a silicone mask. It suctioned to my head and within seconds I opened my eyes to a new man. 

I was incredible. My face was an amalgamation of both our likenesses, the best of both worlds. I winked at my new self, testing out my old cocky smoulder. I still got it, and hell, I would be using it a whole fuckin’ lot. A knock on the door woke me from my eyefucking and walked over to the door. Opening it, there stood Marie. She looked me up and down and rolled her eyes.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s a bonafide stud once again.” I smirked, and let her in. “Phew... Boy you’re fragrant. But then again, I’m sure the boys you fuck are into that sort of thing huh?” Smiling, I lifted my arms, and took in my scent. Better than poppers. “Now, let’s get down to business, shall we? You agreed to the terms, now it’s time to pay up.” I plopped down on the couch, preparing to hear the terms of my debt.

“What you need, baby?” She grabbed me by the cheeks, looking her straight in the eye. All color must’ve flooded from my face.

“Your big blue eyes aren’t gonna get you anywhere with me, son. You are to do as I say, do you hear me?” I nodded silently. “I need followers, boy. Followers. Those who are willing to do what I need done, and in exchange... I’ll add them to your little crew. When I tell you to get something done, I need it done, you hear me?” I nod. “Now when I say go get some more boys, ma cher, you understand what I’m saying, yeah?” I smile as she lets go of my cheeks. “Enjoy your immortality, baby. I’ll be in touch.” With that, she tosses me some clothes as she walks out my door.

It’s been three weeks since that day, and the old man in the flat is nowhere to be seen. His ‘son’ Sebastian has since taken over the lease, and become something of a staple in the community. Always makin the ladies swoon, and the guys drip. Always there to end a fight with a swift K.O. to the chin. Always happy to help a down-on-their-luck neighbor. But most importantly, always looking for new people call ‘family.’

WELP. Introducing a potentially new recurring character: Sebastian the Voodoo King. Let me know what you think of him through asks, and what you’d like to see him to HERE. Have a dope day, kids. Hope this is everything y’all wanted.

[weirdochick56]

Sin- Steve Rogers AU Chapter Three

Biker!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, set in a universe where Pietro isn’t Wanda’s twin, but her older brother!!!

Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots/characters mentioned. 

Word Count: 3, 379 Words

Summary: Y/n finally comes face to face with Biker King and it’s nothing like she imagined. And when she least expects it, the very person she came looking for will find her and all the emotions she has been holding in will come pouring out in unexpected ways.

Read Chapter Two Here!!

*

Under different circumstances, maybe you would’ve stayed there, in his hold a little while longer. It wasn’t like it was an unpleasant feeling...not in the least. 

His hot hands and cool rings contrasted eachother deliciously on your skin and it had actually taken you a while to pull yourself out of your dazed trance, between getting the air knocked out of you and now....

“Oh.” 

You didn’t mean to yelp the way you did when your gaze met those of the blonde Adonis that stood before you, but you couldn’t help it. Those eyes...if you had thought they were pretty before, now you could say with absolute certainty that they were utterly showstopping. 

Salacious, intense, powerful...you’d never wanted to drown in a person’s gaze more. 

He had the kind of eyes you don’t just get lost in, but entirely lose yourself to. The kind that if you stare into too long, you might be swallowed like quicksand. And yet, even knowing this, you couldn’t pull yourself away and had found yourself for the second time in only a short span of time, unable to breathe correctly. 

His gaze was steady on yours as well, though unlike you he wasn’t shaken in the least. He was all cool and collected, his eyes searching yours out shamelessly. 

And so you stay like that for a few moments, his big hands pressed onto your mostly bare back and your hands gripping his forearms tightly, steadying- anchoring yourself. Though nothing about the piercing power of that gaze was anchoring or even real to you. 

Gradually, your heart begins picking up an erratic pace which only spikes when his fingers begin tracing softly over your skin. 

The shivers this sends down your spine feels like a slap to the face and you find yourself almost aggressively pushing yourself away from him. He hesitates a bit, but it’s only a split second before his hands are unclasped and off your skin. 

Breaking away seems to break the trance-like state you were in and instantly, the embarassment sets in, your cheeks heating up immediately. You bow your head refelctively. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out of pure shame. Not because of him, but because of yourself.  

Why were you acting like this? 

I mean, you weren’t normally one to fall for a pretty face because you had grown up around rich pretty boys your whole life.

But he...

You take a cautious peek at him again and instantly regret doing so when you realize the fact that his eyes had seemingly never left you and were now practically glowing with amusement as he watched you closely.

Your breath hitches and you bite your lip, a nervous habit of yours. His eyes momentarily flick down to the action but they quickly return back up to your gaze. 

Your eyes are everywhere at once, your breathing labored. ‘He’s too close’, you think to yourself amidst the chaos in your brain. 

And he’s too goddam perfect. 

He’s all sharp jaw, high cheekbones, silky, messy blonde hair, pink plump lips and piercing blue eyes...every slope and curve and straight edge of his face was all too perfectly harmonious with one another. To say you were in complete awe at the Adonis before you would be an understatement. 

You couldn’t breathe. 

His plump lips are so pink and full and they’re only highlighted more by his dark neatly kept beard, you have to blink several times to make sure you’re not imagining them. How can a man have such pretty lips? 

You had never seen someone this alluring in your life, he wasn’t at all like the pretty rich boys of your town. 

He had a naturally intimidating aura to him, in that rough-around-the-edges badass biker way that you shouldn’t be finding this damn attractive. 

And then you take a moment to take in his full form. You were right; he was easily a whole foot taller than you, sporting more tattoos than you could count on his visible skin- that was, his collarbone and hands, some of the ones up his arm poking out when he moved. 

Unlike most people here who wore kuttes, he was wearing a thick leather jacket with the word, ‘President’ patched in bold black and white on it, but you knew he had his arms fully tatted because you’d seen it that day at the store.

 He also wore black worn jeans that clung sexily on his slim hips, chains hanging over the jean hoops and clanging everytime he moved. He clearly loved his black combat boots because it was visibly obvious he used them a whole lot. 

His sexy mouth lifts at the corner into an even sexier smirk and you all but come undone when he speaks again. “It’s okay, angel.” 

‘Doll’, ‘angel’...

Your brow furrows and before you know what you’re doing...

“Are you in the habit of giving girls you’ve never met pet names, sir?”  You blurt without thinking. 

The unintentionally sassy words fly out of your mouth before your brain can even catch up, but when it does, your eyes instantly widen and your hand flies to your mouth, clasping over it in complete horror. 

You want to die when the excessive attitude in your words sinks in and suddenly you’re all too aware of just how much bigger and intimidating this man was compared to you. 

He could snap you, and most grown men, in half without a second thought. 

You open your mouth to apologize profusely thinking you’ve offended this (most likely) dangerous outlaw, but you freeze once you see his expression. 

He doesn’t seem angry at all, in fact, he’s...laughing? No, it’s not a full-on laugh like the one you’d seen in that parking lot. It’s more airy, more casual. 

He was chuckling. At you. 

He speaks again, this time amusedly. “Nah, only the pretty ones.” 

You’re caught off-guard by the suave of his words and you find yourself profusely blushing once more. You have no idea how to respond to him so instead, you just shake your head, desperate to escape this increasingly flustering situation.

“Okay. Now, if you’ll excuse me...” you offer him a forced polite smile and go to side-step him. 

You barely make it two steps before his hand is flying out, gripping your wrist firmly and tugging you backwards. A little gasp flies out of your mouth at the suddeness of the movement and before you understand what’s happening, you find yourself pressed tightly against a wall, shrouded in darkness. 

You turn your wide eyes onto Biker King, whose thick arms are now pressed beside each side of your head, caging you in entirely. His long torso is leaning down slightly, so his eyes are directly with in your line of sight. 

His scent comes onto you like an avalanche. He smells strongly of leather, cologne, shaving cream, something woodsy yet manly and strangely enough, clean laundry. 

It was unlike any scent you’d ever smelt on a man, but somehow it fit him perfectly and you found yourself inhaling deeper than usual, your heart racing at his sudden proximity. 

He’s so close, your chests are only an inch or two away and he’s staring straight into your soul, cornering you like a predator would a helpless prey. 

“Uh...” you can only mumble awakwardly, still kind of dazed and gaping up at him in utter shock, you can barely hear yourself over the loud pounding of your erratic heart. 

Up close, he’s more beautiful than you could’ve ever imagined a person to be and his piercing gaze was honestly dizzying you. 

“Why are you here, doll?” 

His sudden question jerks you painfully back into reality and you press your lips together, your brows pinching up instantly at his words. The question is so blunt, so sudden, you can only blink furiously up at him. 

“I- what?” You breathe shakily, suddenly unable to function at all. 

He tilts his head down at you, raising a brow and speaking awfully matter-of-factly. “Well you’re that pretty little thing from that shit-hole parking lot, aren’t you?”

At first you can only blink stupidly at him, not expecting him to recognize you but then it suddenly dawns on you...if he recognized you then-

You gasp loudly, cheeks more fiery than ever. 

A knowing smirk grows on his face. “Hey, for what it’s worth, angel, it was a pretty catchy ringtone.” 

You bite your lip in order to supress any small sound threating to spill over out of your lips. 

His eyes darken when they fall onto your meek movement and he tightens his hold in the wall, inhaling sharply. “Damn...” 

Your blush darkens and your stomach clenches at his small, heated mumble that leaves those pretty lips. 

Maybe it was the smug little smirk on his beautiful face that bothered you so much. Or maybe it was the way his eyes pierced through you like you were see-through, but either way, you felt trapped. 

Like he was a lion and you were some small, distressed powerless prey, unable to escape that watchful gaze.

“I have to go...” you breathe curtly, staring at his mouth from under your lashes as his pink tongue pokes out, sweeping lightly over his lips.

He chuckles sexily. “Oh, nu-uh, doll. You haven’t answered my damn question yet. What’s a girl like you doing here?” 

“A girl like me?” You frown. 

He laughs, looking away for a second before turning his magnetic eyes back onto you, somehow more intensely than before. 

“You and I both know you don’t belong on this side of town, angel,” he whispers meaningfully, staring at your mouth fixedly. 

“I-I don’t even know you,” is all you can manage in a shaky voice, feeling like an invisible force is pushing at your chest. 

His eyes lazily drag up to your own and he hums thoughtfully. “You don’t have to. You just have to tell me what you want with this place.” 

You find yourself reeling back indignantly at his demanding tone despite your nervousness. Just who did this stranger think he was?

“I don’t have to tell you jack shit,” you snap. “Now let me go, please.”

If he’s shocked by your little outburst, he doesn’t show it, instead he laughs lowly, the sound somehow like pebbles scraping against gravel and also like what silk felt on your skin or the way honey squeezes out of a bottle. 

The sound was so sexy- a perfect balance of masculine and airy- that it felt like a carress on your skin. 

“Oh, you’re definitely not from around here, little spit fire.”

You want to ask him what he means, but before you can, a voice cuts in from behind you both. 

“Prez.” 

The both of you freeze, but perhaps for entirely different reasons. Biker King looks mildly annoyed at the interruption, and you...

Well that voice sounded freakishly like-

Biker King releases a big breath, smoothly pushing off the wall and spinning around to look at the voice, leaving you to finally be able to release a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in. 

You’re still safely hidden behind the much larger frame of Biker King, but you can easily make out about three pairs of manly feet from between his lean, jean-clad legs.

“Sorry, Prez,” the same voice quickly pushes out, but he sounds more panicked than apologetic. “I know you’re busy but...” he pauses, and for some reason you know it’s because of you. 

‘Prez’? As in “president”? You found yourself wondering silently. 

Tentatively, you step out from behind Biker King, head bowed. “Uhm- I was actually just going so..” 

You don’t even plan on looking at them before high-tailing it out of there, but a shocked voice stops you. 

“Y/n?!” 

Your head snaps up instantly. 

And when your gazes make contact for the first time in a long time, you can’t help the tears that instantly pool around your eyes, eyes and nose burning furiously as all the overwhelming feelings and thoughts you’d been suppressing for so long come rushing to the surface.

It was an instantaneous reaction because deep down you had felt he was near and a wave of conflict crashes right against you as you stiffen up.

Your mouth feels dry as you blink the threatening hot tears back. You haven’t seen him in a while, but he hasn’t very much changed appereance wise. 

Those eyes were still the warmest blue you’ve ever seen, that hair was still kinky and he hadn’t chopped off his frosty tips. 

It dawns on you why you’d recgonized that voice and your heart squeezes tightly as you’re fact to face with him...

Your voice is croaky and breathy when you say his name, but you force yourself to. 

“Pietro.”

*

Steve’s POV

I watch with raised brows as Pietro, or ‘Pretty Boy’ as we called him and my angel -Y/n is what Pietro called her- naturally draw closer together, like being pulled together by some kind of fucking magnetic force, and a surge of anger rises within me instantly. 

‘So your name is Y/n, huh?’ I can find myself thinking that her name is beautiful, delicate and feminine like her and that it would probably feel good to say on my tongue. 

Bucky and Sam each shoot a weird look my way, as if asking ‘what’s up with these two?’ and I give them a short shrug, quickly turning my gaze back onto the stomach-churning scene developing before me. 

Fuck, I hated her being so close to another man, it was inexplicable. I had just met the girl but I already knew I wanted her in my bed- it was like an instinct to me. 

Pietro is now within reach of her and I can do nothing but clench my fists as he reaches his arms out, with tears in his eyes appareantly not giving a flying fuck that his brothers are watching this unfold and tugs her small body towards him. 

What fucks me up more than anything is that she doesn’t fight him in the least. 

I mean it’s clear that they know eachother from their dramatic soap opera moment, but it’s the fact that they look so natural doing it -like they’ve done it so much before it’s muscle memory at this point- that makes me want to kill someone...perferably Pietro. 

He buries his face in her hair, inhaling her scent deeply and I can’t say I blame him. In the small amount of time I’d spent close to her, I’d become addicted to her smell. She smelt nothing like the women I’d fucked over the years. They used cheap off-brand shit, that too potent sweet stuff...but her? 

She smelled like wild flowers and vanilla, an expensive, soft, but not entirely inconspicuous scent I would fucking drown in if I could for the rest of my miserable life. 

As I watched on, helplessly clenching my fists so as to not do something rash, she shakily lifts her petite arms and wraps them around Pietro, hugging him tightly to her.

Oh. I growl under my breath, unable to resist the pang of jealousy that hits me.  

Bucky, my vice president, sends a look my way and I’m pretty sure there’s murder on my face, but all he does is smirk amusedly, the fucker. 

But then it gets worse, because Pretty Boy’s hands start wandering, rubbing her back tenderly, up and down almost to her nice round ass. Up and down, up and d-

I see red, and before I know what I’m doing, I feel myself lunging forward, ready to rip them apart. 

Except...

“Oh shit!” I freeze when I hear Sam voice all our thoughts at what has just happened. 

In the time I had stepped forward, Y/n had suddenly broken away from the embrace, brought her small fist back and clocked Pietro right in the jaw. 

We all stare like damn idiots at the loud smack sound, and consequent mixture of grunts and yelps that rings out, but none more than me. 

Little spitfire packs a damn powerful right hook, even with her size. 

I can see even Bucky, whose the most stoic of us all, is unable to do anything but gape at the scene. 

Our shocks lasts very little because in the next second, still cradling her injured hand to her chest, she uses her other free hand to smack him in the head, over and over. 

“You asshole!” she hissses, whacking him anywhere she can get her small hand. Pietro is crouched over, arms thrown over his head in order to protect himself. 

“Y/n stop!” he demands. 

But this only seems to anger her more and she’s attacking him with more fury now. “How dare you just up and leave like that? I thought-” she huffs, pained. “I thought you loved me, you dipshit!” 

It would seem my little angel has a potty mouth on her and I can’t help but smirk bemusedly to myself despite the fact that anyone here can tell there’s history there. 

Sam and Bucky’s shock seems to have worn off as well and they’re now staring, on the verge of laughter. 

It was pretty comical I’ll admit, seeing as she was way smaller than him and still whooping his ass. It was actually pretty impressive considering he was one of my guys.

I snap into action once I remember that she’s injured her hand and that Pietro isn’t fighting back because if he did, he could kill her. 

“Sam, Bucky,” I snap, pointing at Pietro with my eyes. They don’t hesitate a single second and instantly capture Pretty Boy in their hold, tugging him back. 

I reach out and grab Y/n by her waist, easily lifting her up and away. 

“Let me go, dammit! Let me go!” 

She wiggled aggressively against my hold, still flailing her small limbs about and yelling like a nutjob, but she’s no match against my strength. 

I hug her tightly, pressing her back to me so she can relax. “Settle down, angel,” I whisper calmly in her ear, but she keeps resisting, so I hastily add “If you keep wiggling that pretty little ass of yours like that on my cock you’re going to make me do something I’ll regret later. So I highly suggest you stop. Fucking. Moving.”   

I suppress the urge to grin when I feel her instantly stiffen beneath my touch. She finally seems to give up and fall limp against my hold. 

I mean, I was only half lying to get her to calm down. Actually, I was already half hard. 

‘You are one sick fucking bastard, Steve’ I think to myself bemusedly. 

“Y/n?! What the hell is going on?!” Another feminie voice calls out from behind us. 

Our necks snap instantly towards the direction where it came from and I frown. A pretty redhead comes bounding towards us, or well, me, looking just about ready to kill me and it is then I realize that I’m still carrying Y/n. 

“What the fuck are you doing?! Let her go!” She starts to give me hell, but Y/n suddenly sighs. 

“It’s okay Wanda,” she mutters. “He was just trying to keep me from killing-”

“Wanda!” Pietro calls out suddenly and the redhead’s eyes widen, much like Y/n’s had when she had first seen him. She instantly turns to Pretty boy and runs over to him, tears in her eyes. She practically jumps on him and holds him tightly to her. 

What. The. Hell. 

Sam turns to Bucky incredulously as ‘Wanda’ and Pietro hold eachother like they were the other’s life line. 

“Dude,” Sam breathes over to Bucky. “Where the hell is Pretty Boy getting all these babes from?” 

Bucky shrugs. “No clue.” 

“Wanda what are you doing here?” Pietro breaks away from her, ignoring Buck’s and Sam’s whispers. 

“Oh Pietro! I thought you were dead!” she sniffles and I’ve had just about enough of this shit show. 

“Enough.” I call out, gently setting Y/n down. I try to ignore her pretty gaze burning holes into the side of my head and focus on the issue at hand, turning my harsh gaze to Pietro. 

He gulps audibly because he knows I’m no longer playing around. 

“Pietro, you’re going to explain now.” 

Read Chapter Four Here!!

***

Pretty short chapter but I hope you liked! If anything I can rewrite it-

Please give me feedback I’m so insecure about my writing so anything would be fine. I see all your asks and replies.

And if you want to be added to any of my taglists pls send me an ask or reply!!

A special thanks to:

@daughterofthenight117

@patzammit

@readermia

@jessikared97

@ladyofletters67

@lilypalmer1987

@sammykb1994

@mogaruke

@tomshelbystits

@actorinfluence

@hottubbaby

@rosalynshields

@peaches-roses-sins

@sanne-kijani

@dbnightingale24

@holl2712

@amberritonicole

@aikeia​

[wigglebox]

i wish everyone would stop spiraling on john. with people like Reiff who is dedicated to making Hollywood inclusive and Thompson who was breathing diversity into spn all the way back in 2011 — there is gonna be plenty that isn't "manly American man"

Some yall really need to step back and think.

This show is gonna be about Mary. There is no way it won't.

From reading some reactions, there were a lot of assumptions made off of very little information it felt like. I mean I get it, this show makes us emotional, however I feel like things like you just said — Robbie, Reiff, and of course J + D's passion over all of this, including his experience on the set with some, let's be real, problematic folks — all these things can also lead to assumptions, and assumptions based on past facts like Robbie's writing credits, Reiff joining that Out in Hollywood group etc etc

And yes, Robbie created two of the most badass female characters on the show, two of whom we love very much. He never got to write for Mary before in the show, he was gone before Dabb era began. So I'm super excited.

But yes, I feel like there was a knee jerk reaction response when there really didn't need to be.

However I felt like a lot of the reaction was fueled by fans who weren't really fans, who are in this fandom 'for the lulz', or folks who built up a continuation narrative in their head for 7 months they thought that it was going to happen right out of the gate or something as the first SPN project. Also fans who don't understand the significance of Robbie, one of the show's strongest writers, best writers, being the lead writer for this thing.

Which I find unfair to CMP. The show is the show. Destiel is an integral part of the show but there's still so many stories to tell in the show as well. He's said in a panel at a convention in March that there's stories he wants to tell.

Like to me, he views the world still unfinished in some ways and can't let go of it or Dean — which I'm grateful for! We never got a true ending! I'm sure he'll try to give us whatever he can, but I think this is a great start for a first project AND there's so much for him and Robbie to explore with it.

Anyone who doubts his passion or Jackles' passion I feel like will be miserable for this entire process.

Also just... a reminder to everyone that this isn't even an official thing like it's still being in the approved phase I think. So there's a long way to go xD

[vibrant-leaf]

Therapy is Manly

Part two.

🧡 ~KiriBaku Fic~ ❤️

Summary: The happy ending to part one of this breakup/makeup fic! Many months later, Bakugou finally tries again. The link to the song that inspired me to write this whole thing is at the bottom. And here is a link to part one if you haven't read that yet. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4032

Warnings: cursing, very little angst, suggestive tones but nothing explicit

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

10 months later…

No way. There is absolutely no fucking way that Bakugou’s going to let anyone lay a single finger on Kirishima if he’s there to help it. He understands Kirishima’s strength and knows he can take care of himself easily. But he also knows that Kirishima doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head. So when some dumbass villain decides it’s a brilliant idea to try and go for Red Riot’s back when he’s already busy with another villain, Dynamight’s eyes instantly lock onto his target before he’s charging and yelling at him and proceeds to blow the villain back a solid one hundred- ope no he’s still going- two hundred yards. Sure, he could’ve held back just a tad but that’s what the fucker gets so, oh well.

Kirishima‘s able to look over in the direction of the poor soul who’s knocked out in the next town over when he finally gets a hold of the villain in front of him, and his mouth hangs open as his eyes grow wide. “Damn… that was manly.”

The fight in the streets finally comes to a close and a random reporter tracks down the great up-and-coming hero, Dynamight, before he’s able to escape the scene. Kirishima can see Bakugou roll his eyes before he faces the reporter with an unamused look on his face. And just like the press, the smile that spreads across Kirishima’s face is unavoidable.

“Hey, Dynamight!” Kirishima feels nervous but he forces himself to walk up to Bakugou after the reporter disappears to go talk to another hero.

It’s been ten whole months since Kirishima last talked to his ex-boyfriend. Graduation was eight months ago, which was the last time he saw him in person. He thinks back to that happy day when the whole class was gathered in the yard in front of U.A., just freshly graduated, and two pairs of red eyes meet within the joyful chaos that was surrounding them. They didn’t look away, they held their gaze, and they smiled at each other. Graduation was a day of celebration, a day to feel hopeful about the future, and at that moment, they both felt a small spark of hope ignite for their future together.

Kirishima is brought back to the present when he looks at Bakugou’s arms, and he wonders if his muscles were that big before because damn… those look manly.

Bakugou hears the familiar, cheery voice call out to him and he instantly realizes that hearing that voice in person is a lot better than hearing it through his phone when he watches interviews of Red Riot. Yes, he realizes that he’s indulging in what he absolutely hates, but those interviews serve as necessary reminders of what he’s going to therapy for alright? He has found that they especially help right after a tough session when he’s feeling like shit.

The scowl on Bakugou’s face relaxes when Kirishima walks up next to him.

“Thanks again for the save back there! That was… really manly, even though you probably didn’t have to blast him that far!” Kirishima laughs a little awkwardly.

“Just be more careful next time, Eij- Shitty-Hair. And that asshole deserved it.”

“Whatever you say, man!” After a couple of tense and silent seconds pass by, Kirishima glances off to the side and his hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck. “Sooo… how have you been doing?”

Bakugou knows what he’s really asking him, and he wants to tell him. He wants to tell him everything, pour out all of the contents of his heart onto this gorgeous man standing in front of him, but there were still people around them. “Fan-fuckin-tastic.” Kirishima’s faint chuckle makes Bakugou’s heart stir. This opportunity was really being handed to him on a silver platter, wasn’t it? For a few weeks, he’s been thinking about reaching out to Kirishima but had no clue how to go about it. He wasn’t exactly comfortable with texting him out of the blue after so long but right here was a golden opportunity for him. So, in sheer fuck it fashion he gets straight to the point, “are you seeing anyone right now?”

Kirishima is taken aback by the sudden question. “Uh.. no. No, I’m not.” A few people have asked him out over the past ten months and he’s told them all no. Saying that he wasn’t exactly emotionally available at the moment. While Kirishima did in fact heal from what happened between him and his love so many months ago, he was still holding onto the hope of getting back together with him. Sure, he could have tried to go out on a couple of dates but it wouldn’t have been fair to the other person if he was just wishing he was with Bakugou the whole time.

Kirishima’s heartbeat starts to quicken. Why the hell did Bakugou ask him if he was seeing anyone? Was he finally ready? Was he going to ask him if he wanted to try again? Kirishima was holding his breath now, waiting for Bakugou to say something.

Bakugou keeps tapping his thumb on his thigh. What if Kirishima says no? What if he’s completely over him and realizes he doesn’t want him anymore? He shakes his head a little to get rid of the thoughts that are trying to poison his brain. Bakugou looks at Kirishima square in the eyes. “Do you want to come over to my place for dinner tonight?”

A wide, closed-lip smile spreads across Kirishima’s face and Bakugou wonders how a simple smile like that can be so full of light.

“I’d love to.”

Bakugou feels like screaming in victory, but of course, he keeps his cool. “Great. Seven o’clock. I’ll text you my address.”

“Okay!” Excitement sparkles in Kirishima’s eyes and Bakugou’s really starting to have trouble keeping calm.

“Okay.. see ya then.” Bakugou chews on the inside of his cheek. “Gotta blast-” and he did just that; stepping back and blasting up into the air… as well as immediately regretting those last two words. Gotta blast? GOTTA BLAST?! What the fuck?! When he lands on top of a building, the embarrassment fizzles out of his body, and instead, he feels so incredibly excited that he can’t help but scream at the top of his lungs. “FUCK YEAH!”

Apparently, Bakugou didn’t fly far enough away because Kirishima could clearly hear his mini-celebration off in the distance. His chest flutters and heat rises to his face as he lifts his hand to the back of his neck again and lets out an embarrassing little giggle.

Seven o’clock approaches way too fast but also way too slow at the same time. It’s really fucking weird how time passes when you’re incredibly anxious about something.

Bakugou is plating their dinner as Kirishima is riding the elevator to the top floor of the apartment complex. They’re both sweaty and feel like their hearts are about to burst out of their chest at any given moment, and Bakugou’s almost does when he hears a knock on his door. He takes a deep, centering breath through his nose before walking over to let Kirishima inside.

The door opens and both men look at each other.

Kirishima’s hair is a little longer than it was ten months ago, and with it down it just easily goes past his shoulders, and Bakugou can easily see the black roots that are starting to grow in. His shitty hair is really throwing Bakugou through a loop right now. He wants to run his hands through it and pul- nope, nope, no. Pure thoughts. Pure thoughts only. Then, suddenly, Bakugou is hyperaware of his presence because, holy shit, Kirishima is here, he’s here for Bakugou, at Bakugou’s apartment.

Kirishima on the other hand isn’t doing super swell either. He wasn’t prepared for the navy blue dress shirt and dark grey pants Bakugou is currently wearing and gets a small sense of embarrassment from only wearing jeans and a striped button-up. “Uh.. sorry I didn’t dress up more,” he smiles awkwardly.

Bakugou smirks and cocks his head. “You think I’m not used to the way you dress Shitty-Hair?” Kirishima hums a laugh. “It looks nice, by the way.”

Kirishima’s eyebrows lift slightly. “Huh? What does?”

“You hair. The length. Your roots growing in. I don’t know, it looks nice or whatever.”

“Oh! Thanks! I’m trying to grow it out longer actually! I think it would look badass if it was really long, especially if I go Unbreakable!” The embarrassment vanishes from Kirishima, and Bakugou relaxes as he steps aside to let Kirishima in. They continue to talk about his hair, about the roots being a pain to redye, Bakugou reminding Kirishima that he’s willing to help him with that process, and Kirishima being so relieved at the offer because it really was easier and faster with Bakugou’s help after all.

Dinner goes on just like that. Talking and laughing about anything and everything: from good days on patrol to not-so-good days on patrol, raises, promotions, where Kirishima lives now, health issues…

“I think the hearing in my right ear is going to shit.” Bakugou picks at the remnants of his food he’s trying to stuff down.

“Oh really? You should probably get that checked out.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s just a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“Katsuki.” It’s the first time Kirishima uses his first name after all this time and it comes out so naturally. Bakugou has a faint blush on his cheeks from hearing it.

“...Fine. Whatever.”

“No, not whatever. You should really call a doctor so it doesn’t get worse-” Kirishima is ready to go on a long rant about how one should take care of their body and listen to any signs of trouble.

But Bakugou cuts him off. “If I say I’ll call them tomorrow will you drop it?”

“-body is a templ- oh… Only if you promise!” Kirishima is surprised at how easy it was to convince him with something like this since he used to hate going to Recovery Girl’s office at U.A.

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “I promise. And if you’re gonna say shit like ‘your body is a temple,’’’ he says mockingly, “then eat all the damn veggies I made you.”

Kirishima pretends to look offended and lets out an overly dramatic scoff. “The audacity you have to assume that I wasn’t going to!” He then proceeds to shovel all of the steamed vegetables that are leftover on his plate (which was about ninety percent of what he had to begin with and was the only thing on his plate at this point) into his mouth. Bakugou chuckles as he shakes his head at him.

They then go on to talk about more hero stuff and soon they’re comparing how many people and kids have asked them for their autographs. Kirishima has two more than Bakugou and even though he hates any prolonged interactions with fans he’s still kind of pissed.

“What?! Bullshit!”

“Nope. Not bullshit. Maybe if you didn’t look so mean and yell at everyone then more people would ask for your autograph.” Kirishima gives him a smug look.

Bakugou scoffs and crosses his arms. A weird silence falls upon them. “I’m… I’m getting better at that, by the way.” Kirishima’s eyebrows raise.

“Oh? Really?”

“Yeah, really. I better be at least, or else I would’ve been wasting my damn money on my therapist.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Kirishima smiles at him. “Are you still going?”

Bakugou gets up from the table, gathers their dishes, then walks to the sink. Kirishima understands, it’s tough, talking about this stuff, but isn’t that why he’s here in the first place? Then again, it’s Bakugou talking here, so he’ll give him all the time he needs. What’re a few more minutes compared to almost a year anyway? He walks over to the sink next to Bakugou. “I wash, you dry?”

“Sure.”

And they do just that. Washing, drying, and putting away the dishes with nothing but the sound of running water and clinking of dishes filling the air. They’re comfortable next to each other.

Once they’re done, Kirishima looks at the clock on the stove. It’s starting to get late already. They were talking for so long that now they didn’t have much time to talk about… that. Kirishima loved how easy and normal it felt to talk to Bakugou again but he needs to address the more important topic here. He doesn’t want this to be just a random visit and then they go back to not talking for another long of period time. But he also doesn’t want Bakugou to feel like he’s pushing him too much if it’s still too early yet. “I should probably head out soon.”

Bakugou can hear the sadness in his voice even if it is barely there from Kirishima trying to hide it, but nevertheless, he recognizes that tone. “I’m still going.” He sees Kirishima perk up a little. “It’s just… fucking hard. Who knew I’d be so damn difficult to fix. I’m better, I think, at least that’s what my therapist says. Even my parents noticed.” They’re both leaning back against the countertop in the kitchen with Bakugou’s arms crossed and Kirishima’s forearms resting on the countertop. In his peripheral, Bakugou sees Kirishima looking at him intently. He chews on the inside of his cheek. “But I’m still... Or I still... You know.”

“Yeah, I get it. You still have your moments. I’m the same way.” Kirishima continues when Bakugou looks gives him a confused look. “I started going too… figured my self-esteem and sense of self-worth could use some help. And just like you said, I’m doing a lot better, but I’ll still have my moments. I’ll have this voice in the back of my head trying to make me doubt myself again. Or when I got that promotion at Fat Gum’s agency I started feeling a little guilty. Thought someone else probably deserved it more than me-”

“Tch, like who?”

Kirishima shrugs. “Anyone, really. I know, I know, it’s dumb, but I definitely don’t think that way now. And… I realize… back when we were together in school… I shouldn’t have let you off the hook so easy after the way you’d treat me. I was just afraid you would see me as weak if I were to get too upset over something you said and then you’d dump me because you’d realize you didn’t want to be with someone who was weak.”

“I could never see you as weak, Eijirou. You are one of the strongest people I know if not, the strongest. I could see the look on your face when I said those things to you and it terrified me. I thought that if I could make you out of all people feel like shit, then I really was a fucking terrible human being… I was scared of myself... And I was scared of what I was doing to you.”

Bakugou is looking directly into Kirishima’s eyes as he lets the words fall out of his mouth. He’s thought about what exactly he would say to Kirishima when they would talk about this. But what he’s saying now isn’t like any of the rehearsed lines he’s gone over multiple times in his head, he’s simply letting his heart speak for him. It was so easy too. With Kirishima talking about his thought process from back then first, it felt natural to follow his lead and open up about what he was thinking back then too.

Bakugou takes a deep breath. “I… I truly believe I’m better now, despite having the rare occasional outburst. But it’s not almost every single day that I’ll lash out at people. I’m still me, but I’ve gotten better at apologizing, learning after I make a mistake, and not being so fucking stubborn all the time. So… I know that this time, I’ll be able to love you the right way. The way you deserve to be loved.”

Kirishima swallows the lump in his throat that’s starting to form. He’s so fucking proud of Bakugou and he’s even proud of his own progress he’s made. Kirishima can see the determination on Bakugou’s face.

Bakugou shifts a little to face him more as he looks up at him. “Eijirou… If you want to and if you’re a hundred percent sure about it… I want to try this again. Try us again. I can’t promise I won’t mess up from time to time but I can promise that I’ll never call you useless again. Fuck, I’m still sorry about that. I regretted it the second it came out of my mouth, I don’t know why-”

“Katsuki.” Bakugou stops his rambling when Kirishima touches his shoulder. “I forgive you.”

Bakugou’s shoulders relax from the tension that was building up from remembering his mistake that caused everything to go down the way it did.

Kirishima continues to speak. “And, yes, I want to try again too.” Kirishima can actually see Bakugou’s face light up and it’s the cutest damn thing to him and he really wants to kiss him right now.

“You’re a hundred percent sure?”

“Yes, a hundred percent. I want it more than anything in the world. I want you back in my life.”

A hint of worry falls back onto Bakugou’s face. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t the least bit scared. I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“Katsuki. I’m not made of glass bones and paper skin. I can handle a slip-up from time to time, okay? And I promise that I’ll be better at holding you more accountable.”

“Punch me in the fucking face if you have to.”

“Um, no. I’d rather not end up like that villain today when you blasted him into next week.”

Bakugou laughs proudly at the mention of the scum bag that tried to hurt his beloved earlier that day.

Kirishima smiles back at Bakugou and pulls him in for a hug. He really can’t help himself, he needs to touch him again.

Their hug starts off light but it quickly morphs into the type of embrace that makes them grasp onto each other like a lifeline. Kirishima’s arms are wrapped around Bakugou’s neck as his face is buried into the side of his hair. Bakugou is squeezing Kirishima’s torso and his face is digging into his shoulder. They breathe in each other’s scents. The hug and the nostalgic smell of each other are immensely relieving. This is where they belong. Together. In each other’s arms. And it feels like home.

For a while, they stay like this. Simply enjoying every second of being physically and emotionally connected again.

“I missed you so fucking much,” Bakugou breathes out against Kirishima’s shoulder.

Kirishima wants to talk but his throat is starting to burn and his lips are wobbling, so he just nods first to collect himself before replying, “I missed you too.”

Bakugou squeezes him even tighter. “It’ll be better this time, I promise. I fucking swear, okay Eijirou?” He lifts his head to look into Krishima’s glistening eyes.

Kirishima nods again and lets out a shaky, “okay.”

“And I’m never letting you go, ever again…” Bakugou glances off to the side with a look of guilt and pain, “cause that was fucking terrible.”

“Yeah…” Kirishima takes a deep breath, blinks back the tears that almost spilled out of his eyes, and swallows the lump in his throat. “Longest ten months of my life.” He can see the look of shame fall heavier in Bakugou’s eyes. “But, we both needed it. So… thank you for being strong enough to let us go so we could work on ourselves for a bit.” Bakugou still doesn’t look as relaxed as Kirishima wants him to be, so he places a hand on the side of Bakugou’s face and it makes him look directly at Kirishima. “It still might be difficult from time to time, but growing together is just as important too.” Kirishima softly smiles down at the man he would do anything for.

A blush grows quickly on Bakugou’s cheeks as his eyebrows finally relax. He’s transfixed by the way Kirishima is looking at him so he can only answer with a simple nod. And Kirishima must have a vendetta against him because this gorgeous fucker makes his brain malfunction even more by leaning down to lightly press his lips against Bakugou’s. If butterflies were fluttering in his stomach before, then they were setting off explosions now.

It feels like their first kiss all over again. How is that possible? Neither of them know, but neither of them question it. Instead, they relish in the familiar touch of the other’s lips against their own and they both gain a sense of confidence that they’re going to be just fine.

Once they separate, they slowly open their eyes before pressing their foreheads together. A moment of peaceful silence falls upon them.

In the softest voice he can manage, as if any other tone would ruin the moment between them, Kirishima reluctantly utters, “it’s getting a little late… you want to meet up again tomorrow?” Bakugou affirms him with a nod before letting go and walking him to the door. Kirishima puts a hand on Bakugou’s hip and they exchange one more sweet peck. And then Kirishima gets a smug look on his face.

“Well, gotta blast, Katsuki!” Kirishima waves as he walks out the door.

“Oh my god, shut up!” Bakugou slams the door loud enough that it most likely annoys some of his neighbors.

Kirishima laughs and is about to walk away when he hears the door reopen along with a faint, “Oi.” He turns his head to gaze upon a red-faced Bakugou.

“....I love you, Eijirou.” Bakugou worries that he said it too grumbly before Kirishima instantly blinds him with one of his signature toothy grins.

“I love you too, Katsuki!” No one, absolutely no one, can compete with the amount of happiness Kirishima is full of now. The love of his life, declaring his love for him once again, sparks so much joy in Kirishima’s heart, he’s tempted to go on the roof of a building to scream, FUCK YEAH!

Bakugou allows a little smile to slip on his face and he closes the door once more. The smile grows even wider as he leans back against his door, and that’s when he feels it again: the magnetic force that’s pulling him to his favorite person in the entire world. And for the second time today he thinks, “fuck it,” swings his door open yet again, and marches right over to the redhead before he can reach the stairs.

Kirishima turns around in part surprise and part worry, and he’s about to question Bakugou until his hand is being snatched up and he’s being pulled into the apartment. “Uh- Ka-Kats- I’d love to stay longer but I have to wake up early tomorrow.” He might be protesting but he easily follows Bakugou’s lead as they cross the threshold of the door and Kirishima lets himself be pushed against the wall.

“So stay over.” Simple as that right? Bakugou thinks so at least. He intertwines both his hands into Kirishima’s and stares daringly into his eyes. It’s Kirishima’s turn to be flustered and Bakugou is pleased.

“But my stuff- uh- my hero costume is back at my apartment.” Kirishima’s heart is hammering in his chest as excitement starts filling in the pit of his stomach.

Bakugou tilts his head and smirks. “Then I’ll just go get it for you if your ass can’t get up early enough.”

Kirishima quirks an eyebrow. Okay, two can play at this game. “Hmm.. that’s if your ass is even able to move at all tomorrow morning,” Kirishima smirks back down at Bakugou before he grabs the back of his head and crashes their lips together in a heated kiss.

And what those two men, who were so deeply in love with each other, do for the rest of the evening... is classified information.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you liked the ending! This was the longest fic I’ve ever written and I’m actually quite proud of it. Thank you so much for reading! 🙏🏻

The song that inspired me to write this fic > 🎶🎶

Also…… if you caught that Sponegbob reference… I love you. I wrote it as a joke but ended up keeping it hehehe.

[b4kubiddies]

how bakugou would interact with animals: scenarios

characters: bakugou, gender neutral s/o

warnings: mention of bugs

okay so i saw this drawing of bakugou w/ a cat and i can’t stop thinking abt it so i wrote this 

i have so many pets

hope everyone had a great day :))

bunnies: I think he’d be okay with bunnies, he’s probably used to them from koda’s being around the dorms (have y’all seen the pic of him chasing koda’s bunny-). he spent lots of time outdoors as a kid, he was bound to cross paths with one sometime in his life. He probably wouldn’t want to hold yours if you had one, but he wouldn’t mind it, maybe even stroking it on occasions. 

you sat on the couch watching a show, your soft plush rabbit seated in your lap. katsuki sat to your left, switching his gaze back and forth between the tv and your lap, starring your favorite ball of fluff down. the bunny ruffled in your lap, shaking slightly from the look it had received from your partner. you looked down at the rabbit, soothing it by rubbing behind it’s ears and offering it another piece of lettuce. as it settled down, you saw bakugou reach his hand up, gently flattening the ears of the bunny with his large hand, a soft scowl on his face as he did so. you smiled, your heart swooning at the thought of such a big tough guy being soft for a silly little rabbit. 

guinea pigs: Bakugou is scared of them omg. I’ve had quite a few guinea pigs (i only have 2 rn), and every grown man i’ve showed them to was lowkey scared. They do bite on occasion, if you tickle them or if they simply don’t want to be touched. 

taking your tiny pet out of the cage, you set it down in it’s playpen to get some time to safely run. you stepped over the barrier, seating yourself on the floor with some treats in your hand. your guinea pig loved carrots, especially fed straight from your hand. bakugou walked in to your bedroom, cocking a brow at the sight of you sitting on the floor near the edge of the pen before he sat on the edge of your bed. you got out when you noticed him, scooping the small animal back into your arms. you sat next to him, noticing his intense stare at your guinea pig. you gently set the guinea pig on his lap without warning. the look of pure panic on his face was priceless, a grown man terrified of such a small creature. “scared, suki?” you teasingly asked, your partner looking up with a look mixed with anger and fright. the guinea pig nibbled at bakugou’s lap, you laughed slightly as you picked it back up to rid him of his fear. just as you were headed towards the cage, the fuzzy little thing peed on your arm. bakugou laughed incessantly as you stood there in anger and disbelief,telling you that karma sure is a bitch!

cats: he probably hates cats, they’re adorable but so so spiteful. he also hates that the cat gets most of your attention. 

katsuki was lounged on the couch, watching you play with your cat on the floor near his feet. you’d had it since before you got together, and it was almost heart wrenching to hear he wasn’t fond of your furry friend. as you swung the feather ended stick back and fourth, the cat darted in the same direction. as you moved the feather closer towards bakugou, the cat lept and clung to his calf, digging and sinking it’s sharp claws into his skin. katsuki hissed angrily, mumbling something along the lines of “shitty cat” as the feline released its claws and resumed playing. god did he hate that cat, constantly jumping on him to get to you, nuzzling in between you both to separate your cuddle sessions. you often heard him fight with the cat, yelling at it to move while he was cooking, then yelling when it spitefully pushed something on the counter. telling it not to come in the bathroom while he showered, not to scratch at the couch. their relationship was comedical to you, but god did he wish you’d get rid of that shitty cat. 

dogs: he loves dogs, especially big ones. he thinks they’re badass, “manly” as kiri would say. he loves the loyalty and strength dogs tend to have, finding it similar to himself. he wouldn’t mind a medium sized dog, but he wouldn’t like small dogs. there can only be one angry yapping pomeranian in the house, and he’s already filled that spot. (i’m not a big dog fan, don’t like the way they constantly lick you)

starting off so small and tiny, a pretty puppy with a bow collar in a box, the dog you had surprised your partner with for his birthday had grown as big as a beast. bakugou loved the dog, loved teaching it tricks and commands, even loved cooking it a spare piece of meat when he prepared dinner. this was hands down the best present he’d ever received, he’d put years and years of pride into making the clumsy lil’ pup into a well behaved companion. the dog often sat or layed with him on the couch, never straying far from katsuki’s side. as you stood up from your seat next to bakugou to get a drink from the kitchen, the dog stole your spot in an attempt to be closer to it’s favorite owner. you huffed as you sat down on the other end of the couch, katsuki chuckling at your reaction as he stroked the head of the pup laying in his lap. 

turtles: i think he’d find them intriguing. not his favorite animal, but he doesn’t mind them. 

you went to take the turtle out of the tank, ready to clean and scrub it. bakugou watched as you struggled to catch it, the damn thing swimming away every time you went for it. he walked over as you groaned in frustration, ready to help you catch it. he had seen wild turtles before, caught them in the river growing up with his friends (and that damn nerd deku). he knew you had to be patient, wait until they settle down before sneaking up on them. he took your hands out of the tank, giving the turtle a chance to calm down. he gently reached his large  hands in, grabbing and catching the small thing in one go. you scowled at his success, him smirking back at you as a silent brag. he helped you clean the tank, you scrubbed the turtle’s shell to reduce the risk of shell rot. when you were finally done you thanked him, joking that if he hadn’t helped you would have had turtle soup for dinner.

lizards (this ones abt geckos): i think they also kinda interest him, there are some really pretty lizards and he likes the pattern of the one you have. he likes to watch them hunt their food, he thinks its badass. 

katsuki watched you scoop the lizard up, softly placing it near your neck. they always love the spot, it’s so nice and warm that they often fall asleep. he watched it crawl around you, running up your neck before settling in it’s favorite spot. you began to clean it’s tank, ridding it of all the bugs that had not been eaten. he watched as you changed it’s water and the matt on the bottom of the tank, the lizard sitting nice and pretty the whole time. it was as if it knew it had pretty colors, wanting to display them for everyone to see. you set it back down in the tank, watching it crawl into the safety of it’s dark hiding hut. bakugou made his way over to you, startling you as he slipped his arms around your waist. he peered over your shoulder as you dropped in some food, closely paying attention to the way it lunged at the crickets, unapologetically devouring them. you both cheered the lizard on, somehow fit was fun to watch the small thing eat.