#are y'all being fucking idiotic?? cause it seems like you are???

[ramp-it-up]

Peach VI

Peach V | Peach VII

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is a mob boss trying to get clean. It’s definitely because he’s in love. With you. He's got you on his turf in NYC. You two FINALLY admit your feelings for one another and seal the deal. But how far are you willing to go for this love?

Pairing: Art Dealer/Artist/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: This is it! I hope the smut is up to par. When I tell you I’ve agonized about this. But thank you to all who were in my inbox and dms giving me encouragement this week. Love you bunches! ❤️

This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in Peach V. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, eye fucking, Steve Rogers is an artist, y'all!, sending (almost) nudes, phone sex, possessive Steve, references to shibari, mutual masturbation, pining, references to sex in a car, the "L" word, oral (f recieving), fingering, overstimulation, nipple play, size kink, pleasurable pain with sex, definite breeding kink, raw p in v, Lil bit of Dom Steve if you squint, references to murder. Something big may or may not happen after the last line.

Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-------

Steve Rogers left you in your hotel room, a quivering, emotional, mess.

He’d made you cum, hard, but you felt that he was holding back, that if you’d told him how you felt it would have been so much better.

Or maybe that was all in your mind. Steven Grant Rogers was on your mind a lot since you met him as Grant Stevens in Atlanta.

A lot happened in a short amount of time that caused you to deny your feelings for him. And now you were no longer trying to keep him out. 

He was definitely a distraction, but now you couldn’t deny your feelings for him any longer. You just needed to be a woman about it and tell him.

What’s the worst that could happen? You weren’t going to marry the guy, you just want to explore these mutual feelings. It shouldn’t be complicated.

Right?

You still had the rest of the week in New York to stress out about it, so that was a plus. The afternoon was ahead of you and the next day was the Summitt.

After that, you had your one on one with Steve.

Bucky told you about Steve being an artist himself during your meeting with him. So, for your meeting with Steve, you requested that you see some of his artwork, and he agreed.

You were curious to see what he could create, and you were anxious and turned on at the thought of him as a creator.

You were so into Steve Rogers.

And you didn’t know what you were going to do about that.

—--

Steve had to stop himself from going back up to your room three times after he left. He finally exited the hotel and stalked down the street back to the Rebirth building to his car and pulled out his phone, dialing Bucky and pulling out of the garage.

He needed a drive and a little alone time to clear his head and come down from you, but he also needed his friend’s help.

“Wassssaaaap! Did you get the–”

Steve cut Bucky off.

“Remember that shopping trip we took a few weeks ago? For the ring?”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah. Meet me on 47th street.”

—-

That afternoon, you just kept your distance from Sharon and ignored her, focusing on the task at hand and all business. You didn’t want to waste energy on her.

Your energy was spent on thinking about Steve and wondering if he was thinking of you too. You wanted to text him, but you were chilling. You didn’t want to seem to eager.

You were successful in your self control until 11 pm as you tossed and turned in your hotel king bed. Doubts, but mostly need and desire, coursed through you. 

You were going to find out exactly what Steve was doing right now and who he might be with. You shook your head at how much you cared; it was definitely not something you regularly did. You weren’t used to feening for someone.

You were choosing violence as you posed on the bed in front of the mirror. You sat on the bed, crossed your legs and snapped a picture.

You weren’t naked, but your panties were skin tone and your sleep bra was sheer and you were feeling needy.

Before you thought too hard, you sent it to Steve, then jumped in bed and pulled the covers over your head with that feeling of dread and panic when you don’t know if you’ve done something supremely reckless or not.

—

Steve was ready for the Summit, but he couldn’t stop thinking of you. Sleep was elusive, so he was self medicating, sketching your body from memory of mostly touch.

His phone vibrated and he almost didn’t pick it up, but when he saw your name, his heart sped up.

He clicked through to your message and his heart started hammering in his chest. 

Sorry, wrong thread.

The picture you sent along threatened to give him a heart attack. He zoomed in a couple of times and then read the message again. What the fuck?

——-

In less than a minute your phone was ringing. You picked up immediately.

“Don’t fucking play with me, Peach.”

Steve’s growl got you wet, but you instantly regretted your horny decisions.

“It was a mistake.”

“It absofuckinlutely was. You’re joking about it being the wrong thread, right? That is mine, correct?”

You shivered at his double meaning and at his possessiveness.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers.”

Your voice was needy and that awakened a hunger in Steve. He was beyond frustrated that he wasn’t there to spank your ass raw, but he remained quiet.

You sensed his mood.

“If I were there, I’d make it up to you…”

You were testing the waters, experimenting to see if he would give you what you wanted despite his annoyance.

If he would give you what you needed.

“What would you do?” 

Steve’s baritone was silk in your ear.

“What?” 

You suddenly found that you couldn’t breathe.

“What would you do if you were here?”

“I’d kiss you,” you rushed out in a whisper.

Steve paused, letting your sentence hang in the air.

“And?” 

There was an edge to the question. 

“And… My lips. All over you.” 

Fuck, he was hard. Just a few words in your husky voice, and Steve delirious, imagining his hands in your hair as you kissed him.

“Where?” he asked mercilessly, his voice broken with lust.

“Everywhere…your face, your neck, your nipples, your abs. Your cock.” 

You were definitely not a virgin, but you were blushing through the phone although your hand was rubbing the skin at the edge of your underwear.

“Want you in my throat.” 

Steve had to concentrate to stay hard. 

“Oh? What if I want more than that?” 

“You can have whatever you want...” 

A sense of power flooded Steve’s body, both heady and intoxicating at your admission.

“You should be very careful when you make that offer, Peach,” he said softly. 

“I trust you.” 

Holy fuck. Why did that mean everything to him?  He cleared his throat.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered.

“Okay.” 

You complied so readily, it made Steve even harder.

Your clit was so hard as you circled it.

“Are you wet, Sweetheart?” 

You moaned and Steve reached into his sweats and curled his fingers around his aching cock.

“My pussy is so messy for you, Mr. Rogers,” you whispered, thrilled and afraid of how much you wanted him. 

Steve rolled his eyes as his cocked jerked for you.

“Such a good little slut.” 

“Fuck…” 

You realized the breath you’d been holding as you listened for his voice.

“Your pussy is so beautiful Peach. And god, you taste so good. Just like a sweet peach.”

Steve knew he had you in the palm of his hand. But fuck, you had him in yours too. 

“But your cunt is so tiny. I’m gonna needs to get you ready for me, Baby.”

“Is it going to hurt me?” you whined. 

Steve was about to explode at your little innocent voice asking the most nasty question.

“Yes, Peach. It is,” he growled as your anticipation reached 100.

Your breath sped up and so did your fingers. Steve grunted, his fist moving faster, thumb swiping the copious dribbles of precum dripping from his slit.

He should have known it was over as soon as he opened your message.

Hot sex was happening.

Electronically.

As the coil in your belly wind tighter, you realized with both joy and dismay that you were addicted.

“Steve, “m so close…” 

“Of course you are.” 

Steve soaked up your cute little sex sounds, thirsty for more. 

“You know what I’m thinking about, Doll?” 

A shaky breath was your only response. Steve continued.

“I think I want to tie you up. Silk ropes all over you, pretty little knots. I’d tie your arms behind your back, so those tits would sit up pretty for me to slap, lick and suck. That ass would be tied up so sweet and open so I could eat it.”

Your eyes rolled at the sensations his words and your fingers were sending to your clit. 

“I’d fuck your throat and cum all over that soft, sweet body. Over and over, while I tease your greedy little cunt. I want to see it drip down your delicious nipples, your belly, your hungry pussy, your pretty face. I need to see all of you covered in my cum. Everywhere, marking you as mine…Mine.” 

You gasped, and then moaned and your entire body tightened up then released.

Your mouth hinged open as you came. 

“Mine,” Steve hissed, tightening the knots around you both and jerking his cock until cum spurted out. He listened to your breathing and knew that you’d just cum as well. 

Suddenly, he missed you.

“You good, Peach?”

You hesitated.You heard the yearning in his voice and you wanted to be in his arms, but you lied to him anyway.

“Yeah.”

Steve smiled at you. He shook his head even though you couldn’t see.

“Sweet dreams. See you tomorrow.”

“Night Steve.”

—---

You needed a distraction.

Steve looked so delicious this morning, sitting on stage and serving art intellectual in a dark turtleneck and brown corduroy suit. A suit that was tailored to the detriment of everyone who looked at him. 

Holy shit.

This man was wearing a corduroy suit and he made it look damn good.  

And he made you feral.

You decided to give your cousin a hard time to prevent yourself from becoming a simp.

“You look like that damn heart eyes emoji, ya know.”

She didn’t look at you as you yanked her chain. She just continued to follow Bucky’s every move and lit up when he glanced her way. She was gone, girl.

You teased her some more until you saw Steve. You sighed and gazed at him, straightening your spine as you remembered how he made you cum twice yesterday. And he’d hardly touched you. 

As if sensing your gaze, Steve’s head turned. Those mesmerizing blue eyes locked with yours, and the rest of the world disappeared in an instant. For a moment, you were frozen. Pinned in your seat by his magnetism.

This feeling was so heady.

When you realized you’d been caught staring Steve down, you tried to change the unspoken subject.

“Bucky is pretty much the man.”

“Fucking-A.” 

Her chuckle was all-knowing. Then she read you.

“Steve is the shit too.”

You couldn’t front anymore.

“He’s amazing. I had no idea about everything that he does. Have to say, I’m impressed.”

She was speechless and so were you. You both continued enjoying the forum when your phone buzzed.

You look beautiful today. You’re my favorite thing to study. Can’t wait for today’s art experience. Meet me at the Laguardia Place entrance immediately after the talk. Sunlight is precious.

You were his favorite thing to study!

You waited on the edge of your seat until the end of the summit. Then you were up and walking out toward the entrance post haste.

The hair on the back of your neck raised when you saw Steve watching you from the door of Rosenthal Pavilion.

His smile when you made eye contact knocked the breath out of your lungs.

In that moment, you realized that you were in love with Steven Grant Rogers. 

Holy hell.

His deep voice greeted you as you arrived.

“I’m anxious to get started.”

Steve searched your face and found a different look from the partially closed off expression you’d showed him since Thanksgiving.

Your face was open and trusting. His heart did a funny thing in his chest. It was almost too good to be true.

Could you love him, too?

He tempered his mood with sensible words, filling the space that he wanted to fill with romantic declarations.

“I’m going to take you to my favorite artistic landmark in the city. I’ve loved it since I was a boy.”

You smiled up at him and took his hand.

“Let’s not waste any more time.”

—--

The driver that was taking you and Steve to your meeting place was the same one who picked you up from the airport. The one that your cousin knew so well. 

You stared at the back of his head and then glanced over at Steve. He raised his eyebrow at you because of the look on your face. You grinned back, then leaned forward to tap the driver on the shoulder.

“So… Nico…” 

Your eyes cut over to Steve with a mischievous look. His heart beat out of his chest at the joy you were serving him along with your chaos. 

“You ever drive my cousin and Bucky around the city?”

Nico stole a look at you and smiled.

“Yes ma’am. All the time.”

“Do they ever do the nasty back here…?”

Nico laughed heartily as Steve shook his head.

“Peach…”

You shushed Steve.

“Hush, I’m trying to get the dirt. Now Nico, tell the truth…”

Steve sat back and listened to your unhinged behavior on the drive over to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. Your spirit and your laugh made him warm inside, despite the cold day.

—-

Nico stopped the car at the Washington Avenue entrance to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Steve got out, shouldered his backpack, and then reached for your gloved hand with his own.

For some reason, you felt like a princess as you stepped on the path. The air was crisp, and there were traces of snow lingering on the ground.

You came out of the car chattering and laughing, making Steve’s heart light.

“I know Nico wouldn’t crack, but I could tell from the way he went red. Those whores….”

“Literal Freaks,” replied Steve. “Bunny is an appropriate nickname for him, because he and your cousin…” 

Steve shook his head and rolled his eyes, although he fantasized about christening the backseat of the Lincoln for you and him.

The wrought-iron gate creaked softly behind you as you entered the Garden, and you looked around in wonder as the gravel path crunched beneath your boots. A magnificent metal and glass structure was in front of you.

“This is the Steinhardt Conservatory. Wait until you see the inside.”

Steve smiled and took your hand as you stepped through the glass doors into sudden warmth shaking your head at him. 

There was a heavy scent of flowers and a haze of the waning rays of sunlight beaming through the glass panels overhead. It gave everything golden highlights, including you and Steve. 

You squeezed his hand as you looked around in awe. 

“Beautiful,” you murmured.

And then you noticed that he was looking at you. 

“Yes…”

You grew warm as you looked into his gorgeous blue eyes.

“It’s like a completely different world in here.”

“It’s our world for the moment. Just you and me.”

He wanted to add the word Forever, but he didn’t. You felt it though.

You started on an indoor path and Steve pointed out the unique flowers and plants in his warm baritone. You were impressed, again, with how much he knew.

Steve Rogers was not a stereotypical mobster. This was a man who followed a path in life that landed him where he didn’t want to be and was trying to make up for it. 

As he spoke, Steve drew you into his enthusiasm, and you found yourself smiling and relaxing, asking questions and marveling at the vast indoor space. 

When you came to a small alcove furnished with a wooden bench and beneath a sprawling magnolia tree, Steve stopped and took his backpack off his shoulder, and then taking off his coat and draping it over the bench as you did the same.

"Please, sit." 

His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the subtle command.

You hesitated. 

"Why?"

"So I can sketch you."

Your stomach did an odd little flip. 

"Here? Now? I wanted to see your sketches, not be your sketches."

You performed on stage in front of hundreds with barely no clothes on and you were so nervous to let Steve Rogers sketch you with winter layers of clothes on. What was wrong with you?

Steve raised his eyebrow and his gaze swept up your body slowly, making you shiver. Clothes couldn’t stop the intimacy of that look.

“Too late for that.”

You raised your eyebrow at him and you felt irrationally happy. Steve had drawn you.

“Do you not trust me?”

You regarded him, guardian your reaction because you didn’t want to seem too eager.

“I do Steve. I trust you.”

It was true.

Steve smiled. 

“Then please, sit down.”

You gave in with a sigh and lowered yourself onto the bench. 

"Fine," you muttered. "But no weird artistic liberties. I better have a nose."

Steve chuckled, flipping open the sketchbook. 

"I make no promises."

You watched as he proceeded to balance the sketchbook against his bended knee. Then he looked at you seriously, holding your gaze for a moment before his attention returned to the page, and his pencil began gliding effortlessly across the paper. 

His thick fingers were surprisingly agile, moving with long, sure strokes. But then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised, with the way his fingers had previously made you feel…

For a few moments, the only sound was the soft scratch of his pencil against paper. 

You attempted to sit still, staring at the plants around you. You also tried to pretend that you weren’t aware of the way he studied you with that relentless focus, switching his gaze between you and the sketchbook.

After a few minutes, Steve made a soft noise, something between a hum and a chuckle.

“What?” you asked, turning your head and narrowing your eyes at him.

“Nothing.” 

He didn’t look up. But he spoke.

“It’s just... you’re trying so hard not to move, but you’re fidgeting anyway.”

You caught the hint of humor in his tone and it made you a little too happy again, so you decided to cause problems. 

"Well, maybe if you didn’t look at me like that.”

"Like what?" 

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, looking up at you quickly, then back down.

You fidgeted again.

"You know…"

Steve chuckled, deep and low and shook his head.

"Oh. Am I ‘sparkling my eyes at you again?’”

You scowled at him and he laughed.

“I'm an artist, Peach. I study form." 

His eyes traced up and down your body, lighting you on fire again.

You clenched your thighs together to fight the flow of arousal threatening your thighs. This was dangerous. Steve was dangerous.

"You're insufferable, Steven."

“Well, can you suffer on a little longer, so I can capture more detail?”

You cocked your head in that adorable way.

“What details do you need?”

“I need…” 

Steve looked at you like he needed all of you. 

And he did. 

“I want to capture the way your nose crinkles when you're annoyed, or how you're gripping the bench like you're about to get up and run.”

You unclenched your hands and sat back.

“You’re making me nervous.”

He tapped his pencil against the sketchbook. Then he looked down again to continue drawing.

"Interesting."

"What is?"

He licked those red lips of his and your eyes tracked the movement.

"The fact that I make you nervous."

The way he was looking at you made butterflies riot in your stomach. That special electricity was buzzing around you both. 

Suddenly, his pencil stopped. Then, without warning, he reached out, brushing his fingers beneath your chin, tilting your face slightly.

You stiffened.

"Hold still," he murmured. 

His thumb ghosted over the curve of your jaw and settled at the edge of your throat.

Your breath hitched.

Steve’s eyes were dark now and his voice was softer when he spoke again, but there was an edge to it now, hinting at something rough beneath the surface.

“You always do this?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“React like this when someone touches you.”

You pursed your lips together and shook your head. 

Just you.

"You’re doing it again," he mused as he stroked the side of your throat with his thumb.

"What, Mr. Rogers?"

You were about to combust. He clenched his jaw and increased the pressure of his fingers on your neck.

"Fighting it."

"I- I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"You do," he intoned, his voice stern.

"Don’t hide from me, Peach." 

Your pulse beat beneath his fingertips.

"You think I don’t notice how you react to me?" 

Steve’s hand grasped your throat, pressing more firmly before he let go.

"Hold. Still," he murmured, those blue, blue eyes stormy.

His fingers tilted your face up with authority now. You froze for a moment as his thumb came up to pull your chin down to open your mouth.

“Breathe.”

He slowly pulled his hand away and you had to stop yourself from chasing his touch. 

Steve clenched his jaw, trying to restrain himself. If he had to guess, you were wet and ready for him to do whatever he wanted to you right now. But he willed himself to be patient. 

He picked up his pencil again, rolling it between his fingers, like nothing had happened. 

"Good girl," he offered to the page as he returned to his sketch.

Steve knew what he was doing. Knew exactly how much he affected you. You waited impatiently, clenching your thighs together desperately as his pencil continued to scratch on the paper. 

"Done," he said, as he lifted the sketchbook toward you.

You gasped as you looked at the page. 

The drawing was stunning. Steve had captured you with uncanny accuracy, from the curve of your parted lips to the shading of the different colors in your eyes. The hollow of your throat seemed to pulse, and you could almost see the indentations of his fingers. 

The portrait was beautiful. And it told you everything you needed to know about how he felt.

“This is… how can I thank you?”

Steve’s heart flipped in his chest as he reached out and grabbed your waist, pulling you toward him on the bench.

"Steve…"

His eyes went to your mouth.

"Say that again," he murmured, barely above a whisper.

Your whole body was burning, but you stayed quiet. You were paralyzed with the possibilities.

"No? Too shy now?"

His voice made you impossibly wet. If you gave in, you were about to get everything you didn’t know that you wanted. And that scared you.

You let out a shaky breath. 

"Steve."

Something flickered behind his eyes. Something hot.

“Have I told you that I love the way you say my name?”

His hand came up again against your side, slowly, more deliberate. His fingers moved over the curve of your side, and slid against your breast, his thumb ghosting over your nipple.

He continued, tracing over your cleavage and finally landing against your throat again, pressing against your pulse and driving you crazy.

"You're shaking," he murmured, voice low, thick with need.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he leaned in and gave you a kiss against your throat. And he lingered, lips warm against your skin, before pulling back just enough to smile against your skin.

Your whimper told him so much. 

"You act so tough, but you’re so easy to ruin."

You raised your arms and pulled him close, fingers playing at the nape clutching the hair spilling over his collar.

“You made me this way, Steve. And I don’t want you to stop.”

His now dark blue eyes searched yours as his fingers tightened on your waist. 

“What does that mean, Peach?”

He’d pulled you closer, his eyes on your face as he waited for your answer. The anticipation was so much. He huffed and then dove into the curve of your neck, inhaling and tasting you there, as if he couldn’t help himself. His large hands palmed your breasts, pressing your nipples insistently.

“Oh…my….Steve!”

You squirmed in his grip.

“I asked you a question. Do I need to stop touching you so you can answer?”

“Please, no, Steve. Need you...”

You were the queen of changing the subject.

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

His lips were on the curve of your jaw, so close to your lips. You whined. He cocked his eyebrow, the question not so silent.

You huffed, making your decision to go for it as your hands came to the side of his face so that he knew your intentionality. You wanted to look into his eyes when you said it.

“Moment of honesty? I want you Steve. I feel…I want to be yours. Really been yours since you put your hands on me in Atlanta. I can’t categorize or control this feeling. So I’m giving in. Are you ready for the chaos that is me being yours?”

Steve’s eyes lit up and he reached for you, pulling you into his lap as his lips crashed into yours. His hands were everywhere. He tugged you closer as he kissed you and both hands came down to grab your ass and pull you onto his erection. His desire for you was apparent.

When you broke apart, you chased his lips and then kissed him again, greedy.

“I’ve been ready. Been yours for a while, now Peach. Since the day I saw you…”

His voice was gentle and he was looking at you like you were fine porcelain. You felt so safe in his arms. He pulled back to look you in the eye.

“And this feeling? This is exactly how it should feel when it's meant to be.”

He kissed you again and his mouth took possession of yours in a way that was tender, yet full of promise. 

“I gotta let you know that if you’re mine, I’m gonna give you what you need. When you need it. Do you want that? Do you trust me with that?”

This was the important question.

“Yes, please. I want that, Mr. Rogers, sir. And I trust you.” 

"That’s so fucking hot… but I’m trying to behave. Even though I reserved the pavilion just for us, we’re still in a public place,” he murmured. 

His voice was calm, controlled. But those sea blue eyes told a different story.

"You call this behaving?"

You rolled your hips against his cock. Steve kissed you again and let out a sexy chuckle, then stood you both up, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"If I wasn’t," he murmured, "you’d already be begging me for more." 

You linked your arms around his neck and looked up at him as the cutest woman on earth.

“What if I don’t want you to behave? Like you said, you have the pavilion reserved. You can bend me over the bench and fuck me raw. Right here.”

Steve’s pupils took over his eyes and his jaw clenched. Your stomach dropped as he looked as if he was about to do just as you suggested. But he took a deep breath and smiled.

“We’ll explore that kink later. Our first time needs to be in private.”

Steve reached for your coat and helped you with it before putting his own on and gathering his things. He took your hand and led you out and across the grounds. He pointed to a familiar building. 

“Your hotel is right there. Or do you want me to call Nico to take us to my place?”

You looked up at Steve as your breath vaporized in the cold air.

“We need my hotel. I’m ready. Right now.”

—--

You were in your room again, not entirely sure how you arrived, the journey through the park hurried and full of anticipation. You weren’t thinking too hard, you just knew you needed Steve. Immediately.

You were pushing his coat and blazer off his body and feeling his chest. The steady thrum of his pulse tapped a staccato in your palm.

“Your heart's beating so fast,” you whispered. 

“You do that to me, Peach.” 

“Really?” you questioned, suddenly unsure of yourself.

“You have no idea how much power you have, do you?” 

“Me?” you asked in a small voice. 

Steve nodded.

“You drive me crazy. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.” 

It was confession time.

“It’s you that has the power, Steve. I can't stop thinking about you. Your voice gets me there.” 

You felt tongue tied as you told him your raw feelings, all the while taking off your and his clothes. 

“Sometimes I — I think I'm going to cum just from hearing you speak. Today, at NYU, I could hardly sit still. You're like a drug, pulling all my attention.” 

Steve’s shirt was off now and you were in your bra; he pulled you near him to get his mouth on you.

“When I'm near you, I'm so hard it aches.”

 “Really?” you whispered. “Are you aching right now?” 

Steve groaned as you pulled back to unzip your skirt and take off your boots. He leaned back against the wall and palmed his crotch over his pants. 

“Like you wouldn't believe.” 

Steve couldn’t believe that he had you here like this, giving yourself to him. He had to tell you the truth.

“Look at me, Peach.”

You looked into his eyes.

“I’m In love with you.”

His rough voice pulled an involuntary sound from you. 

“You're mine, Peach You always have been.

Your breath caught in your throat and your heart thudded against yor ribs.

“Oh god, Steve. I- I love you too.”

Your smile blinded him. If he blinked it was because of that. Not that he was going to cry. 

Not at all. 

He laughed as an expression of joy and then your lips met.

The kiss wasn't soft or sweet. This was feral, sharp, and intense. You moaned into his mouth, sucking his bottom lip into yours as he unhooked your bra.

“I fucking want you,” you whimpered into his mouth. 

Steve smiled against your lips.

“Good, cause I fucking need you, my sweet Peach.”

Steve stood, looming over you, all big and fucking magnificent. The vision of him, all lithe muscles covered in smooth skin, and light feathering of hair making its way down his torso, between the defined planes of his abs and into his waistband, was… Good Lord.

You licked your lips, mouth instantly dry. 

Steve’s mouth hooked up on one side as his fingers worked his belt and fly. His pants fell in a matter of seconds, and there he was, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs.

Steve was all thick thighs, and long, powerful legs, his hand slowly stroking himself over the sizable bulge in his underwear. 

You gaped at him. 

Then, he pulled his underwear down, eyes on your face for your reaction. It was classic, your mouth hinged open and your eyes were like saucers. There was no way anyone could be that perfect.

His dick was long and wide, at least eight or nine inches, and curved eloquently (if a dick could do that) against his abs. It was so pretty and your mouth watered for it at the same time your pussy clenched, as you were thinking he was correct. You would struggle to take him.

His smirked deepened as he reached for you and pulled your panties down slowly, his short fingernails scratching your legs and making you shiver.

For a moment he just stared, drinking in the sight of you spread before him

“Fucking sublime,” Steve breathed, the words filled with reverence. 

“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else, baby.” 

He leaned over you and set about doing just that, kissing you deep and filthy, tongue diving to claim every inch of your mouth. You cried out, scratching at his broad shoulders as he suckled and nipped, worshiping your breasts until you were mindless with sensation. 

Steve took his time tracing your torso with his lips, teeth and tongue, learning your body and  paying attention to every sigh of pleasure as he climbed down your body.

The press of his mouth to your pussy made your back arch, and a ragged moan escape your mouth. Steve growled into you, the vibrations running through your soaked cunt.

He parted your pussy lips with his thumbs, and dove to lick your clit with the hot velvet of his tongue. 

Slow, thorough licks made you writhe beneath him. 

“That’s it,” he whispered, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Ride my face, Sweetheart. Fuck my mouth ‘til you cum all over it.” 

You arched like a bow as he latched on to your clit and sucked, two thick fingers thrusting deep to stroke along your inner wall. His practiced fingers found your g-spot and massaged it ruthlessly, curling and scissoring until you sobbed his name.

“Love when you call my name, Peach.”

He looked at you like you were something to be worshipped, and then continued what he was doing. When Steve bit down gently on your clit, your orgasm crashed over you in a burst of white light. 

You shuddered through the aftershocks, trembling as Steve lapped at your folds. Each lick sent a jolt of electricity through you, on the edge of too much. 

Rising to his knees, the thick, heavy length of him rose up again, even more swollen and glistening at the tip. 

Steve notched the thick head of his cock at your entrance and his eyes crossed as he slowly sank into your tight, dripping heat. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

Inch after thick inch, he claimed you, stretched you, with a delicious push/pull of pleasure/pain. His length was one thing, but his girth was everything.

When he bottomed out, you both groaned at the intensity of the connection. He looked you in your eyes as your hearts pounded in sync, your breaths mingling as you got used to his size.

“I’ve never felt so full, Stevie…”

You quivered in his arms. And he knew that he was utterly possessed by you. It was more than just physical; it was an overwhelming sense of rightness. 

“Perfect,” Steve rasped.

“So fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart. Like you were made for me.”

He dropped his head and trailed open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, pausing to suck hard at your pulse point. 

“Please,” you whimpered, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable. “Move.”

“As you wish.” he whispered, brows knitted together. 

You whimpered and your hands grasped the sheets as he started to move. He bent and sucked your nipple hard, causing a jolt of electricity through your body. Your brain was cloudy and you scratched his back as your eyes shuttered closed.

“Open your eyes, Peach,” Steve ordered darkly. 

As he looked you in your beautiful eyes, Steve couldn’t hold back any longer. He started increasing his pace until he was fucking you roughly, pushing your knees to your chest. 

“Yes.. feels so good Steve. Oh my godddddd, fuck me!”

Steve’s eyes roamed your body as he did as you asked. Your beautiful breasts bounced. The bed knocked against the wall and you gasped for breath, your face transfixed on the eye contact between you and Steve.

He was lost, one hand gripped your hair, and the other braced on the headboard. He fucked you hard, grinding against your clit with every stroke. 

You were whimpering, on the verge of screaming as you two made noise up and down the hotel hallway.

He leaned up and grasped your throat, gritting his teeth as he asked a question.

“You want me to cum inside you? You trying to have my baby?”

“Unnnnnnghhhh! Maybe….” 

You opened your eyes and pouted up at him.

“Paint my walls, Steve...”

Steve choked on air as he spurted hot cum into your welcoming pussy, but he pulled out, shooting the last jet of cum on your clit and pussy lips. Then, like a heathen, he bent between your thighs and started licking. 

You sobbed, writhing as he devoured you. 

“Need to eat you more than anything, my sweet, sweet Peach. 

“Steve, Stevie… oh my god!” 

You clutched his hair, tugging sharply. It was too much.

“Oh my God. Please Steveeeee!” 

He raised his head, grinning as you fully collapsed, limp and spent. Your pussy was tender, your face flushed, your eyes gleaming. 

You were beautiful.

You looked at him and shook your head as he took you in his arms. 

“Are you mine?” 

“Yes,” you whimpered out. 

“I would die for you, Y/N L/N,” Steve murmured against your temple, panting. He held you tight, carding his fingers in your hair.

“I promise to keep you safe, and give you everything you need, I promise you that.”

“I believe you, Steve. I trust that.”

—

You and Steve stayed up late, ordered room service and talked about a lot of things, music, your parents, his friendship with Bucky, Nat, and Steve, everything.

You laughed and cried, and then settled back in his arms in the dark to sleep, his hand rubbing your hip as his breathing began to slow.

“Steve, can I ask you a question?”

It had been nagging at you for a while.

His sleepy voice answered you.

“Shoot.”

You chuckled.

“That’s just it. Have you ever… have you ever killed someone?”

Steve stirred, pulling you closer to him and moving his mouth next to your ear.

“Hmmmmm. I’d have to marry you before I answered that question.”

Your heart slammed against your chest and your eyes went wide in the dark.

“What?”

You tried to keep your voice even. You didn’t know what this feeling was that came over you. Steve continued, seemingly calm and not spiraling like you were.

“You can’t be compelled to testify against your spouse. It was a joke, Peach.”

You were silent for a good while.

“Oh.”

Steve stirred, leaning up against his elbow.

“Do you… are you saying that you want to get married?”

Steve thought about the ring that he had at his penthouse.

You laughed.

“Nah… what we looking like just up and getting married like that? We hardly know each other.”

“True. But when you know, you know.”

Steve kissed you and the small amount of logic in your brain was rapidly dissipating.

“Would it make us look crazy…?”

You could sense Steve’s smile in the dark.

“…Or would it be so beautiful?” He replied.

Steve wrapped you up in his arms and settled down again. Your mind spun as his breathing slowed to a steady rhythm and you spoke again. 

He was probably asleep, but you had to get it out.

“If you ask me, I’m ready…”

The light switched on and you were staring into the beautiful blue eyes of Steve Rogers.

——

I’m so anxious about this one! Please let me know how you feel? Reblog, comment, like. TIA!

Read Peach VII

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

Alone

Pairing: Hokage!Kakashi x f!Reader

Summary: Kakashi comes home late, to find that you left a note stating that you want to be left alone.

W/c: 1k (she bite-sized but I love her)

Warnings: Swearing, Kakashi's possessive and worries a lot

A/n: this one is entirely based off of this Frog and Toad story, so I only felt it was right to include the picture from the story's resolution. y'all know i just adore this man as hokage. lmk if this sucks, yk, the usual.

Masterlist💿

It had been another long day for the new Hokage. He was tired, he was stiff, and all he wanted was a kiss from you. He should have given you ten more kisses than he actually had given you, this morning - but, he was rushing, he had an early meeting.

Fuck, what an idiot. He should've been seizing every moment he had to kiss you, but he didn't, not this morning. He was being a terrible husband.

What if you thought so, too? What if you were feeling neglected, or, worse, unloved? What if that was the reason why you left such a cryptic, worrisome note for him to find when he got home?

Dear, Kakashi, I am not at home. I went out. I want to be alone. Y/n

He put the prettily penned note back onto the console table and shed his official robes. They were getting hot. The entire foyer of your home was getting hot.

Turning back to the door, Kakashi opened it back up with a shaking hand.

"Alone?" He murmured to himself as he shut it, again. As he walked away from the Red House, Kakashi scoffed, "Why does she want to be alone?"

Trekking away from the house, he wracked his brain, conjuring up a list of places you may be.

So, he started simple.

And he thanked the stars he hadn't checked anywhere else, first.

There, you laid, way out in the middle of a very wide pond, just North of Hokage Rock, in a little valley filled with flora, fauna, and the like.

A huge, grey rock held you above the water, just high enough so that the small ripples in the pond, caused by the frogs and little fish, didn't bother your sleeping form at all. Dragon flies zipped about you, only gracing you with a small bit of wind, and hardly a tickle or aggravation. Thin, weaning rays of sunlight passed through the tree line as the ball of fire made it's descent of the sky. They painted you with little golden dots, just over the long pants and tank top you had on.

Kakashi, almost, didn't want to wake you.

Almost.

Walking atop the water's surface, Kakashi strode over to you carefully, making sure not to make any undue splashes. As he walked, he berated himself.

Because you could have been sleeping, at home. You could have been doing this within the sanctity of your home, not out, where someone could just grab you. Shit, see a pretty lady, in the middle of a fucking pond, unconscious? Kakashi's instinct would be to help, even if he didn't know her - but there were some bad characters, who would not be so inclined. Why couldn't you just be a little more mindful of that? Kakashi worried about you, and your safety, and your health, but you didn't seem the least at all concerned.

Approaching you near silently, Kakashi ran his index finger down the inside of your arm, feeling the tender flesh as you twitched so preciously.

Fuck - the reason why you didn't care about you was because you didn't know how much he cared about you. That had to be it. He was underserving you, and that was just fucking criminal.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, watching your eyes slowly open as he continued to tickle your arm.

You blinked and a smile rose to your face, it almost confused Kakashi.

Slowly, you sat up and shirked his touch in favour of a stretch. It almost bothered Kakashi, but he was very aware that he was in no position to be bothered by something so trivial.

"What are you sorry for, Kakashi?" You asked after a yawn, that same little grin on your lips as you looked into his eyes with a sparkle in yours.

A little embarrassed to be made to say it aloud, Kakashi scratched the back of his neck. Oh, grow the fuck up - apologize to your wife like a proper man, or else she'll resent-

"I'm sorry for treating you so poorly," he began, much to your surprise. Your smile continued to inch off of your face as he went on, "I've been so consumed with the duties of being Hokage, that I've been neglecting you. The last thing I want is for you to be unhappy. I shouldn't have..."

You were laughing.

So quietly, a small snicker, a little giggle.

"I'm not unhappy, Kakashi," you grinned, shaking your head a tad.

"Then why did you want to go out, and be alone?" He asked, voice dipped in bewilderment.

Your smile had returned to simply rest on your face as you looked at him. Gently, you shrugged, and told him, "This morning, when I woke up, I felt good, because the sun was shining. I felt good, because I'm your wife. And I felt good, because I know I'm so, very loved. I wanted to be alone, so I could think about how wonderful everything is. That was all in the morning, and I had a very long meditation on this rock, then took an even longer nap. I wasn't aware of the time, and I thought I'd be home earlier- that you'd never even read the note."

Quietly, Kakashi sat down on the rock with you, knees suddenly weak. He had to take a few breaths, but, even then, he couldn't stop looking into your eyes.

Your beautiful eyes.

They didn't call him a fool, nor did they judge him for overthinking anything.

"Oh," he said lowly, after some time had passed. "I suppose that's a very good reason to want to be alone."

You just laughed, and stretched again, before standing atop the water. Extending your hand to him, you purred, "And now, I am glad to not be alone. Let's go home, and make dinner - I'm starved."

Kakashi took your hand gingerly. He stood and twirled you so that his arm rested on your shoulder naturally, as you maintained your hold of his hand. Bringing you close to his side, Kakashi just sighed contently, "I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you, Kakashi," you smiled up at him. "You really are a spectacular husband."

[theoddest1]

Let's Actually Talk About The Issues With Vivziepop

Okay, first off, hello you beautiful people! Sorry about this foreboding title, but I needed to catch y'all attention on this so I can break down the issues that I and many have with "Hazbin Hotel" and "Helluva Boss" creator, Vivienne Medrano. Now I am sure you all on here are already aware of at least a couple of the controversies that revolve around this particular creator and if you have seen my posts floating around already, some have been greeted with the problems surrounding her social media presence and just her overall as a person. I know seeing another callout on her seems very very tiring at this point, but I felt that a lot of the current callouts missed key details that were not at all addressed or properly delved on. I plan on shedding light on my issues with her and I hope you get where I am coming from when I say that she sucks.

BULLYING

Okay, I am starting off with Vivienne's blatant use of bully mentality, her agreeing or encouraging her fans to call people who see flaws in her works sub-humans or harass those who find issue or simply jest about her works trademark cussing and and overcrowded designs. She has had this issue for YEARS and refuses to grow up and act her age despite many telling her, even her own fans at times, that she shouldn't be acting so unprofessionally. Clearly, she doesn't care and thanks to her fanbase caring more about her feelings than her being better she feels as though she doesn't need to change or do better. This goes for her friend group as well, who defend her tremendously and act as though she is never in the wrong. Name one time a friend of hers called her out for acting childish, I'll wait.

Now, you're probably wondering, "Wtf could they have done to warrant such a response?"

Criticism...That's all they did. (White Text is random peeps they would speak with or maybe mutuals)

Keep in mind...they used to be a fan as well. They were also a minor at this point

But, Viv doesn't care, this person's critical yet harmless tweets about her shows is what lead to her painting them in a horrible light and making them out to be someone who has attacked her personally and as "nasty".

Rich coming from Viv since she is completely fine doing exactly that for "Ava's Demon". Not only does she criticize it, she takes a shot at the creator as well, but GOD FORBID others do the same towards her.

And according to someone who knew her well, it's all cause they felt creeped out by her.

Her hatred for criticism is so prominent that Ima makes that a section of its own. But let's get back on the topic of bullying.

Vivienne has a fanbase filled to the brim with pushy and overall annoying individuals who have harassed, threatened, disrespected, and wished harm on many people, all cause someone had a negative thing to say about Vivziepop's mid af show. One of the earlier known instances is the one revolving around a MEME of all things.

This was what started it all, and it led to both parties blocking each other and people being mad pushy and calling them an idiot and the like over their opinions. Now look, their take and you're opinion on said take is fine so long as you stay respectful and humane about it all, but don't dogpike someone all cause they think HH sucks. And while Viv can not control her fanbase, for they are not a hivemind (some of y'all act it tho, ima keep it real) she is seen here ENCOURAGING the behavior. Tell me how someone who doesn't even like your trash ass show has the sense to tell people not to harass others, someone with a smaller following, but not your grown damn near 30 year old ass?

Oh, but people wanna act like she can handle criticism, is a sweet person, and grew from her past experiences. Fam, she was 27 in this screenshot [December 16, 2019] and has shown no change from 2013 to fucking 2024. Over a decade of the same petty ass behavior, and keep in mind, according to several of her old friends and workers, she is worse behind close doors. WORSE. She's already acting like she got no damn sense out in the open, imagine behind closed doors.

Last but not least, a glimpse into her outright blatant slander towards Dollcreep, a once good friend of hers that she even visited and spoke with frequently!

She stated that they fetishized pedophilia yet according to the victim and friends of the victim who were once friends with Viv as well, Viv actually threatened to end their friendship if he hadn't drawn NSFW art of her character and his character having sex [Addi was 15 at the time this was drawn]

On top of that, she liked the post, something she didn't need to do. The art also depicted things she had regularly drawn on her own. Addi being tied up forcefully, being sexualized, being harmed to some degree through bondage, etc. The claim that she forced DC to draw this out is backed up by her own art depicting similar elements. Also, if my memory serves me well, Viv and Doll were 17-18 years old [Doll was 17 Viv 18] and have a 1-year age gap. The way Viv frames things here is as if DC was way older and imposed some sort of power over DC, which sources say otherwise. If anything, Viv had a LOT of control throughout all of this drama, which deserves its own section.

I'll be making posts that talk about the different issues regarding Viv, so one post isn't too long (this one is already lengthy enough) and that you can just pick at one post targeting certain issues around this creator.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo recklessly flirting with Choso's little sister at Shibuya

Pairing: Gojo x Choso's sister! reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: After being set in Shibuya to distract and exhaust none other than Satoru Gojo, Choso's little sister soon learns that the rumors about his charm are true.

Warnings: This has no major plot, basically just a fic to tease y'all, Gojo being a smooth operator, furious Choso lol

Tags: @celestair

„You‘re late“

Your sweet voice echoes through the hallway, figure unseen by Satoru Gojo in your hiding spot on the ceiling. Urgh, you’ve been sitting here for what feels like hours, the voice of your big brother lingering through your mind.

“Don’t cause trouble, (y/n). I’m serious, we have a mission to fulfill.”

“Yeah, whatever. Working with that idiots won’t bring back our brothers tho.”

“Careful.”

He stepped closer to you, eyes glistering so deadly that you had to swallow.

“Don’t forget why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you forced me to”, you remembered him.

“If Satoru Gojo is half as strong as that guy told us, he’ll kill me. I’m nothing but a bait, you know that right?”

“I won’t let any harm come over you, (y/n). I promise. Also, you have immense powers, just use them. I’ll meet up with you again later.”

One last hug. One last hug before he sent you away.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, I was expecting a larger reception committee to be honest”, he comments dryly.

Your eyes roam over his body in the dark. Rumors were true as it seems, Satoru Gojo is indeed a handsome man for being human. Tall and quite muscular, an undercut to die for and that blindfold that holds the mystery of his powerful orbs. You crane your neck to catch a better glimpse of him. Interesting appearance.

“Be assured that I am more than enough for you.”

With a swift motion, you lower yourself onto the ground, feet landing elegantly right in front of him.

Your breath hitches when your gaze meets his. How is this man so good-looking even though a blindfold covers half of his face? He smells absolutely intoxicating, the way his cocky smile decorates his face makes your heart beat a little faster.

Stop. You shake your head, trying to get these thoughts out of your head. None of this matters. You are here to distract him, to drain him, to lead him to the others. Satoru Gojo is nothing more than a mission you have to fulfill.

“Oh, and you are?”, he questions, putting an arm casually on his hip.

“The villain”, you clarify with a satisfied grin.

“Too bad. You look way too good for being a villain.”

He really wants to play with you, cute. You’ve been walking on this earth long enough to know how men work, especially those like him. Always so sure of themselves, convinced that they can get any woman. Way too easy to manipulate, though.

“Yeah? Let me show you what I’ve got in store, then.”

Blood manipulation makes it easy for you to attack him from a distance over and over again. You aren’t a fool, though. The way your attacks simply bounce off him shows you more than any words could specify how fucking strong the man in front of you is. When using his technique, there’s absolutely no chance for you to win this fight. But still, you promised. You promised Choso to distract and tire Gojo out. The sooner he’s gone, the sooner you can take revenge for the death of your brothers.

“Blood manipulation, huh? Interesting, so you’re a descendant of the Kamo family.”

The amusement that radiates from his voice irritates you. It’s like he isn’t bothered by your powerful technique at all, making fun of you instead of fighting back.

“You know I could just kill you on the spot, right? Why are you here on your own?”

“Maybe to fight you, maybe to seduce you. Who knows?”, you remark, now trying to land a hit on him in close combat.

He grabs your hand faster than you are able to react, making your eyes widen. Fuck, this isn’t good. His radiant touch alone would be enough to kill you on the spot.

“I have to admit, you are a decent jujutsu sorcerer, maybe a semi grade 1. Could make you a grade 1 if you ask nicely.”

Gojo hates to admit it, but it’s way too easy to get lost in your mesmerizing orbs. Are you a curse? No, your skin feels too real and soft for that against his palm. You are human. Maybe reincarnated, but you are human. A striking human, to be exact.

Even though he is very aware of the fact that you are here to distract him from something bigger, he just can’t help but play your little game.

“You know I could make you kneel just by touching you, right?”, you purr, head tilted to the side.

“Oh believe me honey, I could do the same without using any technique.”

For the split of a second you can feel your cheeks heat up, heart pounding hard against your ribcage. What the hell is this strange feeling? You are reincarnated, you aren’t supposed to feel anything. But why…Why does the way he hold your arm so close against his body and the way he smiles down at you send shivers down your spine? You’ve been alive for so damn long, meeting countless men on the way. What makes him so different?

“I know you’re here to distract me. I gotta say that’s pretty rude considering I’m the strongest. Do they want to get rid of you?”

“Maybe I’m a good match and they know that”, you reply with a sweet grin.

“You’re fighting on the wrong side. When this is over, I’ll show you that you’re capable of so much more. With the right motivation, of course”, he hushes.

“Is this an offer?”, you question.

He can tell by the look in your eyes that your mind is racing. To be honest, he isn’t asking exclusively because of your striking powers.

“Absolutely.”

Softly, his touch traces along your arm, up your shoulder, over your back. Gojo’s other hand joins, brushing over your waist. You see stars, it’s like you’ve forgot how to function. Even though it was part of the job many times to wrap a man around your finger, it never really bothered you when they touched you. If you felt something, it was nothing but disgust and anger. But that right now, that isn’t anger or disgust. This is a completely different feeling, foreign in the way it makes your knees weak. No, not even the emotions you hold towards Choso can compare to that.

Is this what attraction feels like?

“You’re dangerous, Satoru Gojo.”

Your voice is as cold and calculating as ever while you feel like dying and flying internally.

“What’s your name?”

“(y/n), can you hear me?”

Fuck. The voice of your brother inside your ear makes you tear away from him in an instant.

“Yeah. What is it”, you mumble.

“So your name is (y/n), huh? What a beautiful name. Fits you perfectly”, Gojo coos behind you.

“Did that guy just flirt with you, (y/n)? Bring him here. Right now”, Choso hisses.

“Sure. Already on the way.”

“You heard him. Get your ass moving”, you instruct the man in front of you while rolling your eyes in annoyance and moving towards the main hall.

“What a bummer, I thought we had more time alone."

“Don’t say that out loud when my brother is here. He’ll kill you right on the spot and I want to have this honor”, you warn him.

The way you walk in front of him with your delicate hips swinging from side to side makes him smile into himself. You’re a feisty woman, not that easy to get, unapproachable at first glance. But oh how you caught his attention. Not only with your immense powers, but also your sharp tongue and striking looks.

“You’re too good looking to be one of the bad guys”, he comments before he can stop yourself.

“And you’re too good looking to fight for the wrong side”, you reply dryly.

“And how do you know I’m on the wrong side and you’re on the right?”

“Because your students killed my brothers without flinching.”

“And the people you are working with killed thousands of innocent humans with countless brothers and sisters still grieving them.”

You turn around slowly, just about to reach the meeting spot you agreed on with Choso.

“I would recommend to not say something like that to my brother”, you hiss.

“Choso, I’m here!”, you announce loudly.

Another figure appears out of the shadow.

“I hope you didn’t hurt her, Satoru Gojo. Otherwise I will have to kill you right on the spot.”

“I guess sneaking up to other people is like a family thing”, he notes.

“Don’t worry, she was really nice company. Made me almost forget that this is a trap.”

“Gojo”, you warn him.

“Watch your mouth”, Choso hisses through gritted teeth.

“Tell me you didn’t flirt with him”, he continues whispering in your ear.

“Oh, I absolutely did”, you reply without thinking twice.

[greenorangevioletgrass]

fever pitch (b.b.) - part three

previous part | series masterlist

soundtrack: don't blame me - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: you and bradley spend the night, but the road to heaven is full of obstacles; some are external, others are self-inflicted. warnings: language, public scrutiny (will be a recurring theme in this fic ha!), bradley is a stand-up guy all round, fluff, smut (d/s elements, praise kink, bit of a bratty side?, fingering, oral [f receiving], dirty talk, size kink, bradley is PACKING, protected sex) notes: i'm back! life has been crazy since i posted the previous chapter, but i just wanna say thank you so so much for your patience and your kind words about the fic so far! big shoutout to @gretagerwigsmuse and @teacupsandtopgun for being absolutely GEMS in brainstorming ideas-- this wouldn't have happened if it weren't for y'all <3 happy reading!

✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

The Langham, Sterling Suite. Ask for Holly Golightly ;)

Bradley smiles at your text, and the cheeky “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” reference. He shoots up a quick reply as he makes his way out to the lobby, fighting hard not to be grinning like an idiot to any unassuming passersby, until—

Click-click-click-click! FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!

“Hey, it’s Bradley Bradshaw!”

“Oi, Bradley! Give us a smile, mate!”

“Bradley, did you get to meet Y/N inside?”

“Did the boss let you out on a school night, Bradley?”

”How are you feeling about the Sunderland game this weekend?”

It’s a meager distance from the steps of Annabel’s to the curb where the valet has brought out his car, but holy shit. It doesn’t usually get nearly as crazy as this. He’s partied here with Harry Styles, and nobody bat an eye when the guy stumbled out drunk with his left tit out. But maybe it’s because Harry lives in London sometimes, or maybe because he was on a break… unlike Miss Americana on her world tour right now. It makes him pause and rethink how careful he needs to be.

Bradley gets into his car and drives off, trying to tread between the fine line of quick and careful. He can’t help but look over the rearview mirror more often than normal. Fuck, is this how you feel like all the time? He’s no stranger to the spotlight, but rather than the occasional run-ins, nobody has ever been interested in where he went to dinner on a random Tuesday night.

The Langham is barely a mile away, but Bradley sees photographers parked across the hotel with their long-lens cameras and disgusting disposition, and he keeps on driving. Thinking. Restrategizing. Hoping that his vintage aubergine Ferrari isn’t causing suspicion for driving by the second and third time.

He finds a basement parking lot behind the building and pulls up, hoping it’s the right entrance to the hotel. The attendant looks starstruck as he nods and points the way, sending him off with an eager ‘Come on you Gunners!’. And just like that, he makes it into the lobby out of the pap’s sight.

Be cool, he reminds himself, you’re only as suspicious as you seem to be. He comes up to the reception desk, and the girl behind it greets him warmly.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to the Langham. How may I help you?”

“I’m here to see Ms. Golightly at the Sterling Suite,” Bradley says smoothly. “Holly Golightly.”

“And who am I speaking with, sir?” The girl looks at him like he seems familiar, but can’t quite place him. 

“...Paul Varjak,” he states, unable to bite back the smile. Oh, the thrill of giving out a fake name with the very real possibility of getting called out on his shit. 

But she nods and grabs the telephone, dialing into your room. Blissfully ignorant of the pseudonym he just gave her. 

Good. 

Let this inside joke be the two of yours alone.

The elevator ride up is peaceful—too peaceful that he can hear his heart beating and his palms sweating. Even the carpet mutes his footsteps towards the double door. Before he even presses the bell, a bodyguard opens the door for him.

“Mr. Bradshaw,” he nods curtly. It’s one of the guys from the restaurant earlier. Middle-aged, stout and rather short, sporting a permanent scowl and a vibe that indicates he’s seen some shit.

“Hi. Sorry, I haven’t got your name…?”

“Guy,” he deadpans.

Bradley wonders if that’s his real name or he’s just saying it so Bradley would get off his case, but smiles anyway. “Nice to meet you, Guy.”

Guy hums gruffly and ushers him into the foyer, an identical hallway of the hotel, with a room on each side. “Through here,” he leads him towards another set of double doors at the end of the hallway.

Meanwhile, you are full-on freaking out in your living room. Should you get changed? You’ve taken off your heels, but getting everything off feels so premeditated… You don’t even know if he wants things to go that far. Maybe you can break your little rule and bring out the wine for liquid courage? Gosh, nothing feels right. And it’s been so long since you’ve last done this that you’ve actually gone rusty.

And before you get to decide—in the long, wasteful twenty minutes or so you’ve been pacing, you hear a knock on your door.

“Coming!”

You rush over to get the door and there he is, coming out victorious through the hurdles, smiling at you.

“Thanks, Guy. I’ll take it from here,” you dismiss your security a little too quickly, nodding over Bradley’s shoulder. You’re sure Guy is rolling his eyes all the way back to his room over your lovestruck teenager behavior.

But it hardly matters when this man before you is looking at you like the sun.

“Hey, you.” Bradley beams at you from his spot. As if afraid to invade your space somehow.

And so are you. This feels like that night in the garden all over again. You have to remind yourself that this isn’t some pocket of a park you stumbled into; this is your hotel room. 

Quiet. 

Private. 

Safe.

“Come on in.” You let him cross the threshold, closing the door behind him the warm foyer light cast golden upon his face. You’re not sure if it’s the fact that you’ve ditched your six-inch heels, or that there’s no one else, but Bradley looks even taller than you remember him. Broader. More… imposing.

“I’m sorry for taking so long. There’s cameras everywhere and I had to—”

“It’s okay,” you try to reassure him. It feels rude to ask if he got caught on camera, but at this point, you had to ask. “Did you… Did they…?” 

Bradley quickly shakes his head. “No, I took the basement entrance, out of sight. We’re good.”

”I’m, uh… sorry for the fuss.”

”Hey, it’s no trouble at all… Ms. Golightly,” he tilts his head, grinning at your chosen pseudonym.

”Yeah, it changes every time. My last stop in Tennessee, I was Clarice Starling,” you admit, making him laugh. “Although I’m glad you got the reference… Mr. Varjak.”

He simpers, very proud of himself. And with that, he takes a step closer to you. Towering over you. Crowding you with his smile, his scent, his body heat… and neither of you makes the first touch. You’re painfully aware of how his gaze keeps dropping to your lips. Bodies drawn towards each other but tied in place for some reason. It seems like despite all the flirting you did at the restaurant, everything goes out the window once you’re alone.

You’re just two strangers, caught in a thrilling game of push and pull. Too scared to tip over and just… fall.

“Can I kiss you…?” Bradley breathes out. He feels foolish for asking, but it’s the only way to make sure he’s not ruining the entire evening.

But you sigh in relief and nod your head yes, and it gives you the push you need to close the distance from him. You don’t know which one happened first; touching his lips with yours, grasping his arms for balance, or standing on your tiptoes on his shoes. He keeps you there, his strong hands securing your waist.

“You’re making me feel like a kid…” It makes you giggle into the kiss, and he can’t not possibly fall in love with the sound of that—with the feel of your lips pulled up right against his.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing…” Bradley runs his hands down your sides gently. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

“All night? You mean you’ve been thinking about making out with me while I tell you my life story?” you gasp, feigning shock and offense.

He laughs again. “Maybe for a moment or two there, I’ll admit.”

“I thought you were a gentleman!” you give him a playful smack on his behind, and there’s a flash of… something in his eyes. A spark, or a darkening. You’re not sure what it is yet, but it sends butterflies into your stomach yet again.

Bradley tucks some loose strands of your hair behind your ear. “I’m still a gentleman.”

“Really? I don’t believe that…” you sway his hips lightly, “I think you’re very… very bad,” you purr out, your lips barely touching.

He meets you halfway, and it feels like less of a shock this time. You gladly lose yourself in him, knowing you’ve crossed the line now. You finally notice how his mustache scratches your skin in a nice way, how he holds you flush against him, how he just melts into you in the kiss… enshrouding you in his warmth and lighting you on fire at the same time. 

Bradley pulls away, barely just. His forehead is still pressed against yours, your noses are bumping, and his breath melding with yours. He licks his lips and you swear you can almost taste it. “You’re making it really hard for me to be a gentleman, kid…”

You can’t help but chuckle at the nickname. It’s not one you expect, but it sounds right somehow. “I didn’t invite you all the way here to be a gentleman.”

The twinkle in his eyes darken. Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him. “Is that right?” Bradley’s hands slide down your hips, finding the swell of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze.

The air catches in your throat, and you swallow lightly. “Mm-hm.”

Instead, you lead him into the bedroom. Bradley is right behind you, barely a step behind. His hands have found a home on your hips and he seems adamant to stay there for a moment. Insisting to hold onto you because he worries he’ll get ahead of himself before you’re ready. But gosh, you’ve been ready all night and you’re practically twisting your arms around trying to reach the zipper on the back of your dress.

“Come here, I got you,” he rasps, his heart skipping as he drags the zipper down your back. He’s not sure which one he loves more; the dip of your spine that he wants to trace with your tongue, or the way the dress falls to the floor and reveals what’s underneath that prim and proper pink dress.

A tiny scrap of lace held by a black strap on either side of your hips, framing the swell of your ass perfectly.

And he swears, for a split second, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

“Fuck…” he breathes out.

You can’t turn around fast enough. It might be a good ‘fuck’, but what if it’s a bad one? “What’s wrong?”

Bradley just blinks at you, for no other reason than how your nipples are poking out the side of the skimpy triangle of your bra. And that your lipstick is smeared on the edges from kissing him.

But of course, your mind is already racing from the lack of response and you’re already thinking, oh no this was a bad idea I shouldn’t have worn this—

“Hey, hey…” he sees your face fall and your arms come up to cover your chest and he immediately steps in. Holding you close, hoping to give you comfort. “Is this all for me?”

Oh, shit. Maybe if you close your eyes tight enough, you would melt to the floor. “I know, it’s a little much—”

“No, that’s not what I asked…” Bradley tilts your chin up, making you look him in the eye. “I said… Did you put these on for me?”

Your breath comes up short, and you nod ever so slightly. You don’t even trust your own voice not to betray how much you want him to like it. How much you want him.

“It’s perfect. I love it. Thank you.” He smiles into your lips, kissing you there. Spelling out how he feels with his hands on your ass, his mouth on yours. “Such a good girl…”

That flips a switch in your brain and he can see it. Your eyes go wide, your posture changes, and all of a sudden, you look so… small in his arms. So vulnerable, so beautiful. So perfect. 

Suddenly, he’s holding the world in his arms. The sexy little thing you call panties is a pesky little nuisance now, and he can’t wait to get it off of you. His broad shoulders are keeping your legs open, his nose nuzzling your pubic bone as he looks up at you.

Bradley lowers you down on the side of the bed, settling on his knees before you. Committing every inch to memory by touch, from your ankle to your knee, up the inside of your thighs. When he reaches the scrap of fabric at your core, he feels it slick. He smirks. “What do we have here?”

Your face heats up. How the fuck are you supposed to answer that? No words are coming to your head—not when he’s drawing patterns over your pussy, making the lace glisten all over. And when your panties are positively ruined, he draws his hand back and licks the offending fingers in earnest.

And all it takes is a taste to send him into a frenzy. 

“Fuck honey, need to taste you…” he murmurs between feverish kisses all over your legs. “Can I?”

You nod fervently, feeling like he’s got you under a spell.

“Use your words, kid.” He grins, playfully biting the inside of your thigh.

The sharp sensation makes you yelp, and you grip his hair in reflex. “Yes, want your mouth on me, please…”

“Good girl, asking so nicely…” he chuckles, satisfied with your response. Then, he pulls you to the edge of the bed. That dainty scrap of lace you call panties is a pesky nuisance now, and he couldn’t wait any longer to get it off of you. With your legs hiked up on his broad shoulders, he dives into you. 

A taste, as it turns out, is an understatement because what Bradley does is devour. 

“Oh, fuck…” you gasp sharply at the contact.

With one hand pinning your thigh open, he laps you up in earnest, figuring out the many ways he can make you squirm. Time ceases to exist because it feels like he makes you come in no time, but also he’s been down there forever. But he goes on and on and on until his name comes out in a desperate chant of lust and need. 

“Bradley Bradley Bradley…” she grinds shamelessly into his mustache now, an unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation on your part. “Please, I’m gonna…”

“I know, honey. I got you. It’s okay.” It’s an oddly wholesome thing to say in a moment like this, but maybe you’re a hopeless romantic at heart, because sweet nothings get you off.

Your orgasm strikes like a thunderbolt, and you find yourself arching into his mouth. The more you take, the more he gives—or is it the other way around?— It seems like he takes as much pleasure in it as you do. Maybe even more, as he holds onto you as you squirm away overstimulated.

“Bradley… wait.” You grab a handful of his hair, trembling breathlessly.

His mustache glistens when he comes up for air, and he finally (finally!) takes off his suit jacket as he stands up. He eases up on the throttle and lets you breathe for a second. He rolls up his sleeves to his elbows, watching you spread out like a feast for him. Legs open, bra askew, hair fanned out on the pillow… God, he’s so lucky.

When he returns on top of you, you’re eager to pull him by his belt buckle, but he brushes your hand away. You frown in protest. “But I wanna touch you—”

“It’s not your turn yet, honey,” he chides you teasingly.

“You just had your turn!”

He shrugs, nosing your cheek. “Well, it’s still my turn, so…” Bradley closes the gap again and kisses you openly.

The taste of your arousal on his tongue makes you dizzy, but it can’t distract you from the buzz of his fingers rubbing your devoured pussy, sending shivers down your spine. It’s entirely too much, and you keel over from the contact.

“Somebody’s a little sensitive, huh?” He grins, easing the throttle a little.

“Fuck you…”

“Well, if you say so.” He slides his middle finger in.

“Ohhh… Bradley…” you buck up your hips and moan. But in comes another finger, and you swear it feels like all of him. 

He’s wound differently this time, like a man on a mission. With his fingers crooking and stroking your silky walls, beckoning you to come closer, while you grip his shoulders, willing yourself to hold on. But his teeth yanks the edge of your bra to set your nipple free, and his sly tongue finally gets a taste… all resolve goes out the window.

“Come on, honey. I know you got another one in you…” he breathes out, undoing the front clasp of your bra so he can suck your tits with all his might, willing you to come.

And frankly, who are you to say no?

The burst of pleasure hits you from your core to your fingertips. If he wasn’t pinning you down on top of you, you would have probably floated away. But you’re firmly laid on the mattress and feeling everything. Your eyes blink back into focus as you come down from your high.

You pant, staring at him in disbelief. Nobody has ever put that much attention on you in bed before even taking off his clothes. “You got a baseball bat in there or something?”

“Something like that.” He rolls his eyes playfully. Jokingly, you assume.

You take his arm, kissing his wrist, “Can I touch you now?” sticking your tongue out to lick his digits clean of you. Putting on a show as you suck his fingers. “Please?”

He throws his head back and groans. “Fuck.” He can’t resist that doe-eyed look you’re putting on, nor can he resist you undoing his shirt buttons. He can play dominant all he wants, but he knows that the truth of the matter is, he’s all wrapped up around your little finger. “Okay, okay. You win.”

It’s a mess of unbuckling pants, kicking off shoes, and tossing clothes to the floor. Your hand reaches out to trace his gleaming skin, every ridge of his abdomen. You’ve seen the Calvin Klein campaigns and the Men’s Health covers— and gosh, he looks like a dream. But when that thing just springs up to his stomach when he pushes his boxers down…

You didn’t expect him to manifest straight out of your wet dream.

“Holy fuck, you weren’t kidding about your baseball bat,” you breathe out, head tilted as you stare at his thick cock. The vein that runs along the side, the way it curves slightly to the right, the length that makes you clench at the mere thought of it… Fuck, it’s pretty.

Bradley chuckles sheepishly. He knows how big it is, he’s heard all the jokes in the locker room, but hearing it from you hits different. “You scared?”

You should be, a little. But without flinching, you bite your lip and look him in the eye. “Nah, I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

Gosh, he loves you. He’ll have to remember not to blurt that out too early. “Okay, big girl,” he chuckles, kissing you one last time before rolling off of the bed.

His sudden disappearance out of sight makes you frown. “Where are you—” you prop yourself up on your elbow, seeing him fish out a packet of condom from his trousers pocket, “Right. Safety first.”

Bradley nods, tearing the packet open with his teeth and rolling it on. There’s something so hot about how a man looks just before he fucks someone. “Mm-hm. Gotta make sure we’re both covered.”

“Do I need goggles and a helmet, too?”

He pauses as he straddles your hips. “Maybe next round,” he cheekily quips back. The idea of you wearing nothing but a helmet and safety goggles weirdly makes his cock stir, too. But you’re already lying naked under him, and he doubts that much will deter his hard-on.

Bradley pushes himself into you a little, and your eyes water as you whimper out in a blur of pain and pleasure. And here you thought two of his fingers felt full…

He stops in his tracks, trying to gauge your reaction. He nearly lost his mind over how tightly you’re clenched around him, but he doesn’t want to presume. “Too much?” He asks softly, stroking your cheek. 

Your breaths run ragged as you look up at him, almost in awe. “You’re just… so big…”

He laughs breathlessly. He hates to brag, but it’s true. And as much as he’s enjoying the way you flutter under him, he has to ask, “Want me to pull out?” Please say no, please say no, I don’t think I can handle it…

“N-no…” you wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging to him for dear life. “But I don’t know if it’ll fit.”

Bradley smiles at what has to be the most adorable look he’s ever seen from you. He kisses your forehead in reassurance. “I’ll go nice and slow, okay? I promise.”

Feeling this small and vulnerable so soon after meeting someone would usually set all kinds of alarms in your head. You never know how a guy would take it. But in this moment, nestled in the crook of his neck, among the mix of his perfume and aftershave and his natural musk… all you want to do is stay. “Okay,” you nod softly.

“Let’s try again then, hm?” He kisses your temple and whispers in your ear, “Open up, love.”

With a deep breath, you bite back a whimper as you take him deeper, still not quite all the way in. “Hurts…”

Bradley stops again, his concern fully taking over now. “You sure you want me to keep going…?”

“Yes!” You surprise yourself with how quick and desperate you answered him. Your eyes shut, trying to offset the warmth setting over your cheeks, as you make the dirty admission, “I… I like it when it hurts.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Bradley has to remind himself not to come on the spot, because holy shit. He wouldn’t go this hard on a woman so early in the game, but… his head is dizzy from how innocently you said it. He takes a breath to pull himself together. “Tell me if it’s too much, alright?”

The air is heavy. The room is silent. You can hear the shift in the tension as you smirk, “Yessir.”

There you are, you little devil. Bradley simply grabs you by the hips and bottoms out inside you. Your face goes slack while your cunt tightens around his cock, and it blows his mind.

He starts out slow, torturously so. Stuffing himself inside your crevice and dragging himself out, willing you to feel every inch. Every ridge. Until your body loosens up and twists around in the throes of passion. Your mouth falls open, your little gasps and moans coming and going as he pleases.

The unhurried pace is nice for a few minutes, when you’re still adjusting to his size. But now that he’s snug inside you, you’re simply aching for more. Your hips arch up into him halfway, a little more urgent, disrupting the rhythm with a pleasant stutter.

He notices this and smiles. “So eager… what’s the rush, hm?”

You answer with a groan. He has a penchant for asking you questions you can’t answer, this man. “You feel so good, baby…” you murmur headily, hands desperately grasping on him—his arms, his shoulders, his back…

”You feel even better.” He nips at your pert nipple, relishing in your angelic little filthy cry. Fuck, he can feel the exact motion of your pussy tightening for him. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that…”

”Then don’t.”

His eyes flicker onto yours immediately. You’re gonna be the death of him, he swears…

You grab his hair by the fistful, keeping his gaze. “I want to feel you come inside me.”

”Oh fuck—” he doesn’t stand a chance. His body reacts faster than his brain could compute, and he holds your hips flush against his as he buries himself as deep as he can. Every twitch of his cock sends you reeling, and your pussy clenches and unwinds in your climax, following him down from his high to yours.

Free falling, hand in hand.

Bradley rolls off of you and you would complain, if it weren’t for the way he immediately pulls you into his chest. Thank fuck. You’re not quite ready to untangle from him yet. Not when your breaths still run a bit ragged, as if accidentally catching each other’s. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and it feels unlike your regular out-of-town hookup. No, this one’s different. But not a word is said between you on that for different reasons— each of you holding your cards close to your chest, as close as you’re holding each other.

[highonincense]

One thing I absolutely despise in drarry fics —and by this I mean a specific subset, not like in general cause there are many amazing fics— is the characterization of harry (and draco), the way he's an absolute fucking doormat!!!! I get it y'all are tryna portray him as a social dimwit, it can be done in a normal way without making him seem like a piece of cardboard! Are we talking about the same dude here?? You don't actually have to completely demolish a character, take away their key traits just to make the other half of the ship look better.

Let me give a pointwise description:

1. Dude stutters after every bloody sentence, like he's so overwhelmed talking to draco "smirking, smooth as butter, sardonic, sleek, godly" Malfoy who keeps insulting him every fucking second. Do you really think that harry would entertain that bullshit, especially in post-war fics!!! Like he'd just take it and not put him in his place?

2. I read this fic long ago and I don't remember the name, but good god it was unbearable. Basically the golden trio apologizes to draco for his tragic life that they were responsible for after the war? Like wtf? Why is there even a need to do that? 😭 That was too much and I stopped midway

3. Again, draco "3 OWLs" Malfoy, some supersmart / second coming of tom riddle, keeps patronizing every action of harry, the amount of times harry's intelligence is insulted? Immediate no from me, like are we still doing the whole "harry dumb mf potter is unobservant, slow, stupid, can't function without some rat hissing in his ear that he's an idiot 24/7"? Don't you think it's lame?

4. Harry has to always put up with his shitty attitude, I am all for character development, I know characters are multi dimensional and complex, and showing draco having a difficult personality is well and good, but it starts to get annoying when there's no real growth in him. I've read fics where he's absolutely despicable until the end which is covered up as him being a dickhead in general and harry "fondly" keeps up with his shit. *gag* canon harry would NEVER

5. I think it genuinely wouldn't make a difference if harry was there or not, I am not kidding or being dramatic, those fics might as well be character × y/n fics

All of this leads me to hate draco's character more! You portray him as this insufferable bastard who has a heart of gold apparently (where?) who has no real growth, shows no humility or regret or even pretends to and you think harry will put up with that?

It would be interesting if he starts out that way, works on himself and grows and changes, that would be more tolerable and interesting!

But no, he's always this annoying guy who hurls insults, keeps mocking harry or his friends every other line, you might argue it's in his character, but aren't those the traits which make him unlikeable? like those aren't cute or quirky? wouldn't it make more sense to show him grow out of it? It's really annoying

And harry, let's not go there, he's a completely new character, might as well be an oc atp, you can't even compare him to canon harry, that's how bad it is! I still haven't completely discussed it cause it's already getting long, but he's this wet bloody blanket and I can't stand it, the gryffs (except Hermione) in general are shown as some bumbling buffoons who can't differentiate between their hand and foot!! And the slytherins are all savvy, masterminds, geniuses... I really don't know whether it's admirable cause it's weird seeing them pushed into these moulds where they can only behave a certain way!

I'm so tired this is still going on like?? Why are their characters such caricatures? All of this sounds like it may have been a thing of past, but I am appalled it's still happening!!!

This is not directed at all drarry fics out there, cause there are some gorgeous fics written by amazing authors who fucking get these characters and make it about them, about their relationship and explore it in a depth and nail their characterizations without making either one of them boring. There are a good number of fics that I actually enjoy cause of the way they write drarry's characters, which makes or breaks the fic imho

[imobsessivesometimes]

Eazy-Duz-It // Logan Howlett x Reader

PT 1

a/n this is also on my ao3 account, but i felt like posting it here, too, for funsies. i'm bad at descriptions, just go with it.

synopsis: The school needs a therapist, fast. Maybe this random mutant can be the music teacher slash music therapy person. Oh yeah, there's also this mutant testing corporation?

-----------

"Clearly something isn't working," Ororo mumbled as she watched yet another student run by yelling obscenities behind them and ignoring the damage being caused by their mutation. It was nearing the end of the first week that a therapist had been employed at the school. Rebecca Zien was recommended to Charles by Jean Grey as a counselor that was also a fellow telepath.

"Perhaps the problem is that she's a mutant. She seems to be invading the students' minds, leaving them no room to express their emotions themselves." Charles determined beside her. He and Ororo had been watching closely the entire week, gathering information to see if Dr. Zien should be a permanent addition to the staff. It was evident that she should leave. "I'll discuss with her later this evening. Please go have a word with Miss Lily." Charles instructed Ororo which she gladly took to. It wasn't in her to leave a struggling student to their own devices when she could easily go help. This left Charles alone to think about what the next course of action was to be. Like Ororo had said, something wasn't working. They had an issue on their hands. They couldn't introduce something new and take it away and pretend like nothing happened. This week had caused all the students stress, and he needed to fix this mistake. The solution would have to wait a little longer, for now, he needed to fire Rebecca Zein.

Somewhere else in the world

"Leave me the fuck alone! God damn!" a woman demanded, struggling at the ropes that clung her uncomfortably to an equally as uncomfortable chair. "I have no idea what the hell y'all are even talking about!" she kicked at the air. The idiots who tied her down didn't think to restrain her legs. Said idiots, were leaning against the opposing wall to where the woman was tied. It was a small, dingy place. The acoustics made it sound like a shipping container. The woman didn't know for sure; she was knocked out before being put here.

"Do you ever shut up?" one man said. There was only two of them, the one who spoke seemed to be the younger of the duo. He seemed more inexperienced at kidnapping and interrogating people, too. He had repeatedly hit the woman after every question, not even giving her a chance to respond. But it wasn't like she had anything to respond with, anyway. She was plucked off the street after being detected as a mutant by the two. How they did that, she didn't know. Her mutation wasn't flashy or anything, it wasn't even visible when she was using it. She didn't need to outstretch her arms, her eyes didn't glow, nothing was admitted off of her. Her mutation was invisible unless she was using it on you. There was something wrong with the container, something that was preventing her from using her mutation on the two idiots.

"I'm not really known for being quiet, buddy." she remarked. They had been at a standstill for hours it felt. The older of the two muttered that it would be just a few more hours before she was out of their hair. Whatever that meant. They were both bald anyways. The younger opened his mouth in tandem with someone knocking on the container.

"About fucking time," the younger said as he leaned harder to crack open the container behind him. A force grabbed him, though, yanking him out of the container. A second didn't even pass before three silver claws dragged the older man with. The container was opened fully by a man with unibrow inspired sunglasses.

"Jean! There's someone in here!" he called out behind him. Another pair of footsteps ran beside him, a woman, Jean, appeared beside him and stepped into the container.

"I'm guessing y'all aren't the people they were waiting for?" the tied woman asked. Jean cracked a small smile as she made her way over to the other woman.

"That's right. What's your name? We weren't made aware that they had any hostages." she asked.

"I'm Y/n. I think I'm the only one here. I didn't hear anyone else being questioned in a one-mile radius. I don't know how big shipping container yards are, though." Y/n said. She helped slip the ropes around her torso off.

"You're a mutant?" Jean asked. Y/n stood, nodding. "Scott, see if there's any other hostages around." she called behind her. Unibrow shades, Scott, gave a thumbs up before running out of view. The sounds of the two kidnappers being beat up finally stopped and another man popped his head into view. He was gruffer than the other two saviors. He was a little and bloody from pummeling those two crooks. The sweat on his forehead was illuminated by the moonlight, as were his silver claws.

"Is she comin' with us or what?" even his voice was gruff. Sounds like he's gonna need a smoke after this, Y/n thought.

"A third location? What happened to never let someone take you to a second one, huh?" Y/n mumbled.

"Hm, funny," Jean said, "he's talking about a school for mutants. We're teachers there."

"I thought you guys were some kind of comic heroes?"

"That too," Scott wandered into the conversation. Jean gave him a questioning look, "no other hostages out there, just what we came here for." he informed.

"Good, lets head out then. Y/n, would you care to come with us? It'd be safer for you if you did."

"Only if you tell me who you guys are," Y/n crossed her arms. This 'school for mutants' sounded too good to be true; living as a mutant in this world taught Y/n that things were always too good to be true.

"I'm Jean, the man with the visor is Scott, and that's Logan. Are you coming with us or not?"

"Sure,"

-----------

Firing Dr. Zein wasn't exactly a walk in the park, unfortunately. She stormed out of the mansion saying something about her telepathy always helping her in her career as a therapist. Something like that. Charles Xavier was now sitting in his office with Ororo and other x-men/professors deciding what to do next.

"Maybe we could hire a non-mutant therapist? Maybe having someone on the outside looking in will give better counseling than someone on the inside. An outside perspective," Kitty Pryde suggested.

"We'd have to find someone willing to do that. I don't know if there will be many therapists out there willing to jeopardize their career by taking a controversial position as a mutant counselor." Henry rebutted.

Everyone who added to the discussion had valid points. It was starting to give Charles a headache. No solution seemed right; none fit with their circumstances. Most of the students said that the counseling felt too invasive. The whole situation gave everyone a headache.

"That's enough for today. We'll discuss this at further length when more faculty is present." Charles finally announced. The meeting had lasted well over an hour, they started talking in circle. "You all are dismissed." Faculty filtered out of the room at a moderate pace, Ororo was the only to stay behind as she has been Charles' righthand man during this whole ordeal. "You would imagine we'd be more equipped to handle this." he solemnly joked. Ororo didn't have the capacity to a pity smile.

The doors to his office suddenly burst open, revealing Scott, Jean, Logan, and someone he hadn't met before. "To what do we owe the honor?" Charles' eyebrows lifted slightly at the entrance and unfamiliar face.

"We found the weapons dumped at a shipping yard. We also found a hostage." Logan informed. At the mention of 'hostage' he pushed Y/n forward a little.

"Hostage?" Charles wheeled closer to Y/n. "A mutant hostage." he leaned back in his chair.

"Uh, yeah. Why is that important?" Y/n asked after the few seconds of examination.

"The weapons these three recovered are mutation repressors being manufactured by a colleague of one William Stryker." Charles stated. The air of mystery was quickly set aside, however.

"You say that like I'm supposed to know who that is," Y/n noted. The three behind her were getting annoyed, but Charles continued to enlighten Y/n with the important information she was missing.10 minutes had passed soon enough; Jean and Scott were lounging on a couch, Logan was one sentence from walking out of the room, and Y/n was sitting across Charles at his desk.

"Ok, so William Stryker sucks. I did, however, pick up pretty quick that they were gonna try out the mutation repressors on me, thank you for the thorough explanation, though." Y/n pointed out. She didn't mean that statement with any aggression, seemed like Jean and Scott didn't get that memo with the even more irritated expressions they displayed.

"What is your mutation, anyway?" Logan called out. He might as well get something out of all the waiting he was doing.

"It's kind of hard to explain. It relates to beats and rhythm," Y/n started, "like music," she added after seeing the confusion on his face.

"Music?" Logan grunted. Y/n just nodded, not feeling like an audible response was necessary if he was just going to be a bitch about it. "Why the hell would they want to test these out on a mutation like that?"

"Beats me, no pun intended. The container they put me in had something done to it where I couldn't use my mutation." Y/n shrugged. Charles and Jean perked up. Jean walked over from the couch slowly, the gears started turning in her head.

"They held you in a box that cancelled out your abilities?" Jean clarified; Y/n nodded once more. "That must mean this organization created a metal or compound of something that represses mutations, not just weapons."

"Organization?" Ororo asked.

"Yes, ReinTec, I believe." Charles added. "Jean, Scott, find whatever you can about ReinTec. Y/n, I'd like to talk to you about staying here at the school, I have an issue I believe you can help with."

[poisonousquinzel]

first Harley mention and it's immediately refocused onto Janet. wonderful, I love how much respect and love and care GWW gives to Harlivy's relationship still its not at all like she switched up the moment she had the opportunity to when it got extended from 6 to more chapters, and has shoved Janet into Harley's place with no shame.

yeah it seems like Ivy is so so fond of Janet, she called her annoying in the Knight Terrors arc

now she's talking about how she never really thinks about her cause she's an Out Of Sight Out Of Mind off-screen person.

"person you sleep with when you're bored" babe, Janet, hon, she was on DRUGS. she wasn't bored, she was high. that's the only reason she slept with you. y'all were unknowingly consuming something that made the whole retreat trip balls and you're acting like she fucked you cause she was bored.

janet is a dumbass.

10/10 everytime dude called her stupid it made me laugh he didn't have to do her like that fsjfkdkjdfsjksfdklsks

"you're not... a normal person. you are...an idiot."

im fuxking crying get her again !

AND THIS CHICK IS STILL HUNG UP OVER THE SLAUGHTER SWAMP SHIT GIRL

this is just sad. can't imagine why the people who were actually able to fight the zombies didn't prioritize being next to Janet the entire fight. it's almost like they needed to prioritize fighting the zombies that wanted to KILL EVERYONE INCLUDING YOU JANET. a woman who is useless in a fight, it's not as if she'd have been of any help.

like, Janet, you know you can just... leave ? right ? you're not tethered to Ivy with invisible vines you can walk away and not deal with all this shit anymore. You decided to come with her back to Gotham, you decided to hole up in her girlfriend's closet and never attempt to find a place of you're own, you decided to join this group of criminals, you're the one who decided to not take Batman's advice and hit him with your purse instead.

also, so I think this bit we got about #32

THE PAINFUL TRUTH REVEALED! The gruesome and violent conclusion to Poison Ivy's confrontation with Marshview's past and present. Plus: some very, very, very hurtful things are said, and Poison Ivy discovers an unpleasant truth about Janet.

is probably either about her sleeping with Croc or this deal that was trying to be made with her.

"I would never betray someone I...even if she..."

even if she what ??????????? What Janet ?????

[thecloudsaremyhome]

Yandere platonic kanto manji Mikey headcanon

・when you first met Mikey was in the three deities face off it was absoilty brutal an you being th youngest member were told to stay on the sidelines by takeomi. But did you listen? Nope you didn't instead you went head first in and joined the fight while takeomi was busy facing off against South with wakasa an benki.

・and like the idiot you are decided to sneak up on South and land a hard kick on his head while takeomi an wakasa were trying to catch their breath. But this doesn't go unoctince by benki a he scream at you to stop before it's to late. Of course you didn't listen an backed up. South recording from th hit look up at you an glares at you which causes you to flinch

・ make benki was right you should get out of herebbefor it's to late but before you Could make a run for it, South grabs you by th arms an swings you down on th floor which causes you to cry out in pain by th force of his strength. Takeomi takes notices of this and rushes towards you but gets nocked out by South throwing a brutal punch towards him.

・benki and wakasa emidity take action and charge towards South bu then senju yells at them to stop an that she will handle this. Reluctantly they stop their movements by takeomi calls out to her that they could handle it but senju shake her head no an moves forawrd looking at you with a concerned look

・ senju then yells at South to let you go but of course South doesn't listen an grins meanicily at her which causes he to glare at him. She then charges forward an lands a brutal kick to his head multiple times causeing him to stumble backward and drop you from his grip but before senju could land another attack, South then swipes at senju in mid air which causes her to brutality fall back into the ground painting with blood leaking out of her nose and mouth.

・this causes you to panic your about to get back up and give towards her but Takemichi stand in South side way before you can do anything. Luckily South doesn't hurt Takemichi and just moves last him towards senju but before he can fully get to her kaukcho falls back harshley and landing in between senju in South which causes you to look into the direction if where he came from.

・which was a bug mistake on your part as you look at the dark irises looking towards you South and senju. No way fucking Mickey is here oh you all are so dead but what you dint notice from yourinner turmoil is that his gaze sisters when he loooks towards you then he gives a deadly look towards South. Which unnervies you to say the least

・but what surprises you the most is when both South and Mikey began to fight brutality it's like an all out battle that you don't want to be apart of, but then Takemichi goes infrint of them to stop the fight and pleadbwith Mickey but before Mickey could punch Takemichi out if the way you step ibfront if Takemichi and take the brutal punch which causes you to stumble. You pant as you giare up at Mickey

・you can't let Mikey hurt Takemichi he's senjus friend so you'll oritectbhimcwith all your might. Big mistake though as mickey pushes both you and Takemichi ou of the way hardly which sends both you an Takemichi flying in the air an landingbhardly on the ground you cough out blood in pain before finally passing out

・once you wake up again you take notic of your surroundings. Your in a hospital but not th normal ones a very expensive one you look around an notice the bag of IV next to you then Mikey sitting in the cgairbin the far right seeming like he's in his own world

・but finally after a long econd he looks up to meet your gaze an his eyes soften as he looks at you, you both sit in this uncomfortable Silence until he speaks "get some more rest you'll be home soon." what did he mean by that? And home soon? What does he mean but before. You. Could ask him you feel this overwhelming sense of dizzynes before. You finally pass out again

Well your fucked

Authors note: hello y'all! Sooo yandere platonic cult will be posted tonight at the latest! An this headcanon is not related to the yandere kanto manji gang oneshot I'll be working on in the future! I just decided to do this for fun! So enjoy!

[mrs-monaghan]

No one is changing fucking narratives. Think about it you dumb idiots. You're in the closet, in a homophobic country, trying to live your best queer life in a glass closet. You leave enough hints about your sexuality & the person you love. Hickeys, GCF Tokyo with a queer love song. People either believe it or don't. And one day you're enjoying a significant COUPLE HOLIDAY in korea, with said partner you did all the above things with & the next thing you know its spread all over the internet.

Now I understand why Jikook are doing what they are nowadays. They were caught together on a couple holiday without members, by locals & since then, Jikook's public outings have stopped. The way JM even tried to downplay White day, which might have worked had he not posted JK on White Day before they were caught out, but still, the fact that he even felt he needed to play down the holiday & even stopped going to that place, should throw up major flags. They've always been able to leave room for deniability, but it's hard to explain a couple day outing. Seems it scared them into becoming more private. That & we have JM's mail stolen & privacy breached around the same time. Jikook obviously felt they could go out & didn't worry cause for the most part their privacy is respected. And now that they were, they been cautious since. This wasn't some premiere outing with two friends & cameras on a random day. We are talking 2 people who have spelled it out they are queer, who are rumored to be dating, who were caught out on their private time together, on a COUPLE HOLIDAY with no other members of BTS & it spread all over the internet. The only duo of BTS rumored to be dating and they are the only two caught out together on a real couple holiday. Yeah, its a big damn deal.

I just know Hybe and The members said something to them day. If they police Jikook during random photoshoots like we've seen or interject, when they are just having fun together, oh you know they came down on Jikook that day & they probably got blamed for it, even tho its not their fault someone took a pic and posted it. The timing of WD & Jikook's public outings coming to stop, is too perfectly timed for it to be a coincidence.

If I had a shilling for everytime someone said coincidence in regards to Jikook I would be a millionaire 😂😂😂😂 when are we gonna give this word up and accept there ain't no such thing as coincidence with these 2??

You wanna know what a coincidence is? This.

JK splashes Jimin 13 times. Their favourite number. Now that, is a coincidence. Because JK would have kept going had Jimin not asked him to stop. That is how u use the word coincidence.

JK using There for you a "gay" song for GCFT is NOT a coincidence.

Jimin appearing at the exact same lyrics during GCF Saipan is NOT a coincidence.

Both Jikook being from Busan, is a coincidence.

This, was NOT a coincidence.

Them wearing plasters on their fore fingers during a fan meet for no reason was NOT a coincidence

The J on JK's hand been directly ontop of the M is NOT a coincidence.

Jimin having a moon tattoo and JK having a sun tattoo is NOT a coincidence.

Jikook recounted once how they saw ghosts when they still lived at the dorm in their early years. JK said while showering he thought he saw a ghost but it turned out to be RM. Jimin said one time when showering he thought he saw a ghost but it turned out to be Suga. Everyone on twitter was like "aww what a coincidence! You are me i am you" Meanwhile I'm just over here like; Guys, 👏🏾they👏🏾were👏🏾showering👏���to👏🏾ge👏🏾ther. Their stories were too similar, that's literally the only explanation. HELLOOOO!!! Y'all give young Jikook too much credit 😂

Jikook posting at the same hour, same minute, exact same second is NOT a coincidence

JK coming live on white day and Jimin showing up in the comment section was NOT a coincidence.

Jikook having moles in the same spots of their bodies, that's a coincidence.

This. Is NOT a coincidence

They👏🏾sleep👏🏾to👏🏾ge👏🏾ther!!👏🏾

JK allowing an account kookminaredating into his game was NOT a coincidence.

Y'all catch my drift.

Sorry anon, I saw the word coincidence and went on a tangent but u are correct. With Jikook, coincidence should be used very lightly. And yes to the rest of your ask. 💜💜💜💜💜

[charyou-tree]

The far-right wants American politics to feel like having an abusive parent.

If you have an abusive Father lets say, you come to learn that you can't reason with him. You don't defy him or he hurts you, and trying to explain your point of view never works, so eventually you give up trying. Your only goal is to manage interactions with him so you don't get hurt.

So instead, when you need something, you go to your Mother instead, because you might actually have a chance of influencing her behavior. So, if she's not able to get you something, say, because Father controls the bank accounts, you might get angry with Mother instead because she chose not to listen to you this time! Father never listens, so you don't even consider that a failure, that's just "normal". That's just how Father is. Mother is usually nice, she just decided to be mean!

This is why republican controlled legislatures don't pass anything except tax cuts for themselves. The whole plan is to prove the idea of "Government Never Helps" by example. Why? To make the party who promised to use the government to help people look bad, so that the people who voted for that party blame them for betraying their voters, instead of blaming the wannabe oligarchs stonewalling progress for the last 40 years. The republican party follows the same playbook every time:

Cut taxes and dump money into your buddy's company

Companies get rich(er) and hire people to expand, unemployment temporarily goes down

Lack of government revenue makes budgets tight, and times seem good so we "have to" cut social services (because raising taxes makes you look like the bad guy, and the democrats already are a minority party)

Massive corporate power results in billions of dollars being taken from working people, resulting in increasing poverty, homelessness, social problems in general, made worse by the lack of social services

"Democrats never deliver on their promises, voting doesn't work, both sides are evil, there's no point in trying to change things"

Young people and leftists stay home, republican majority is elected

goto 1.

The democratic party has held a veto-proof majority exactly once in the last 40 years, for about 8 months during the Obama administration. (Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Party_divisions_of_United_States_Congresses) That was the last-best-chance we had at getting anything useful done, every other time has had one or more republican majorities blocking progress.

It pisses me off so much to see the short-sighted leftists on the internet talking about how "voting doesn't work" and waxing poetic about how we need a revolution that they know damn well isn't coming. You know why voting doesn't seem to work? Because you smug idiots decided you were too good for it and won't do it!

If any of you think that adding yourselves to the "Did Not Vote" category will somehow cause American political leadership to stop flirting with fascism please block me right now. I am disgusted with how many people who bitch and moan about how awful our government is can't be bothered to do the BARE FUCKING MINIMUM about it.

We have a government made of conservative old people because conservatives and old people ALWAYS VOTE.

If y'all don't even vote, you're not fighting a revolution. Grow up.

[ashleychristina73]

Very telling how and a lot of these oh no Trump is going to be president again posts never mention black people. To be exact most of you mention every group but black people. And if we're being completely honest that's the reason why we lost the election. Y'all have never wanted to acknowledge how deeply racist this country is, including yourselves. Black people have been telling you for years every single time you tried to gaslight us with "you guys make everything about race!". Everything is about race idiot. We've been telling y'all that. But Y'all don't understand that because you don't actually care about us and our causes, our safety, just our labor in relation to how it benefits you. Y'all don't care about how negative of an effect Trump's presidency had on the black community. You don't care about how many more black people died because of violence he incited because you don't care about black people. The only reason a lot of y'all care now is because you realized you fucked your own communities over but before that the majority of you were totally fine with the idea that we were going to be one of his main targets, yet again.

And that is why we lost. We lost because there is a huge disconnect between black people and everyone else a part of the Democratic party. A lot of the rights that minority and marginalized groups in this country take for granted were fought for solely or very heavily by black people. A lot of y'all have never had to fight for rights alone in this country like we have. We have consistently been on our own. Yeah there may have been a couple of stragglers along the way willing to attempt to help us but we have always had to fight for stuff by ourselves. It's the reason why black people were the only ones to make the right decision because we have never forgotten how hard our ancestors had to fight for us to get here.

Every time I come on here I see Y'all talking about how the government has put a lot of effort into making it seem like a lot of the rights that were fought for by black people were fought for a long time ago. And to a degree you guys are right but secretly what I've always known is that a part of that issue is the fact that you guys have the privilege of not knowing how recent those events were. Black people we don't and never really have. From the moment we are born, an African American, our elders made sure that we knew so that we would never take for granted the rights that we have now. Like the right to vote. This election season Y'all acted like people asking you to utilize your right to vote was some form of oppression and not a privilege.

So many minority and marginalized groups throughout this election have taken for granted the rights that they have in this country because a lot of them didn't necessarily have to fight for them like we did. And even when y'all did have to fight for them, you didn't have the United States government throwing the full force of everything they have at you to attempt to destroy your efforts and community like we have. We cannot afford to be ignorant and privileged like y'all have been. We have never been afforded the privilege of forgetting how hard our ancestors fought for everything we have now, even if we wanted to, because we have always been aware of how easily those rights can be taken away again.

Many of you are going to have to start completely rethinking what activism and fighting for your rights in this country actually means because a lot of you don't really know what it is, you just enjoy the aesthetic of it. Hence the reason why so many of you are freaking out that black people are planning to opt out of fighting for y'all from now on. We are the backbone of all of your causes, we are usually y'all main supporters and oftentimes your only. Most of the activism y'all do is on social media and a vast majority of it is only dedicated towards people Who look, act and think like you. Your activism is incredibly racist, privileged and selfish. You only advocate for people who are like you but black people have never done that in this country. We have always believed in fighting for everybody but y'all have shown us through how y'all voted that we need to take a step back. We need to allow you to make your own mistakes. We need to allow you to experience true racism, in this country, alone without our help or advocacy. We are taking a step back because we cannot continue to try to save everybody else's community while ours is suffering from the decisions the ones we are attempting to save are making.

Now for me, personally, this doesn't mean that I'm suddenly going to stop supporting those suffering from genocides or posting about it but it does mean that I am taking a huge step back from any other causes. I think a lot of you need to learn what it's like to fight for your causes and your rights alone without the help of black people. I think y'all need to learn what it's like to watch your people continuously be targeted and murdered and have people make posts on TikTok saying "oh you guys are just upset because you're going to lose a couple of rights!". I think you'll need to learn what it's like to consistently be advocating for others, yet have no one advocate for you when you actually need it. It has been easy for you guys to scream POC solidarity but the way y'all voted shows us that don't actually identify with us at all. I don't care about us at all. Don't want us to care about you and your causes but you don't care what happens to us.

I am not excited for the horrors that you guys are going to face at the hands of the Trump administration. Horrors y'all voted for. As much as I would like to be gleefully excited about watching y'alls comeuppance I'm not. I think it's incredibly sad that so many of you were trying so hard to fuck over black and brown communities, that you ended up fucking yourselves.

[likesunsetorange]

I’m a e2l fan so I want anything you could give us about it like characters likes /dislikes ? Small snippet (sorry Im so excited for this fic I’m asking for alot :,(no pressure though <3)

love you hope you’re doing good

hiii! you're so sweet, ily2! i'm mostly good! a little stressed bc school but i'm keeping it pushing haha

and you're not asking for a lot!! i've actually been talking a lot about this au with a few of my moots lately so i've been itching to share about it so honestly go crazy with asking about it!!! since i haven't gotten as many asks about this au i guess i'll make this ask kind of long and just kind of dump some of the stuff from my notes into it? and i have a tiny snippet i can share too!

so i'll just go on a long ass tangent below lol

okay, so first thing about this au, the one thing i really want to emphasize (without spoiling) is the whole thing about this au is that their breakup reason is important, but also that nobody in particular is at fault. sometimes life just happens, and things happen, and sometimes you just need to take a step back and re-evaluate yourself, your goals, and what you really want! it's about coming back together and choosing that person in the end because you realize not being with them is worse than whatever drove y'all apart!

tbh a lot of this au is partially inspired by my own breakup & how the experience of me getting over it! i was in my early 20s for the first time being single after being in a relationship since i was a teenager and i was like woah wtf idk how to be single/without a partner. so that's a big focus of that! learning how to find yourself and realign your goals and all that!

but we can get into the characters now!

eren:

definitely is a bit more obvious about missing mikasa, but tries to act like he doesnt (he has her highlight still up lol, not doing a good job at it)

mostly just works a lot while they're not together

after they breakup, mikasa moves out of their apartment, so he's stuck seeing all their stuff all the time

the first time they see each other its messy, they get into a big fight lol, they aren't allowed to hang out together lol

but he realizes pretty fast that he regrets the breakup, but he sees that mikasa seems to be doing okay, so he wouldn't wanna intrude on that

he gets armin in the breakup basically (mostly bc he sees armin more, but armin still talks to mikasa, just not as much as he does to eren obvi)

he picks up some of mikasa's hobbies bc he misses her so much lol he's down horrendous

at the very least does miss mikasa at least as a friend

mikasa

after their breakup, because she's kind of trying to spite eren, she starts going out a lot to cope—her "hot girl era" essentially lol

she definitely starts prioritizing herself a lot more, and spends more time with her friends and figuring out what she wants outside of eren

but she definitely misses eren, she's just better at hiding it lol

she partially thinks he just doesn't want anything to do with her anymore (a lot of this is just them being fucking idiots lol), and she basically doesn't try to stalk him or see what he's up to bc she doesn't wanna know out of her own peace of mind

she has very bad flight anxiety so when they fly to italy, she lowkey kind of hopes that eren doesn't change his flight (he does bc he has to do something not even to be petty), and she has a very terrible flight experience and all she wishes is that eren were there

and here's a little snippet! this takes place the day after they break up!! sorry for rambling LOl but hope you enjoyed my little tangent! :)

“Damn, Mikasa,” Gabi called out from behind her, only causing Mikasa to turn around. “We didn’t know you went out on weeknights.” 

Gabi, one of the college freshmen who worked at the gallery, had a tendency to say whatever was on her mind, never bothering to filter herself. Even if Mikasa had grown rather close to her since she started working at the gallery in August, sometimes she wished Gabi would just shut up.

Mikasa scoffed, confused as to what even prompted her to say that. “What are you talking about, Gabi? And don’t cuss so loud, especially where guests can hear you.”

“Your eyes, they’re all red. Not to mention how bad your bags are,” she said, pointing to her eyes. “Seems like someone was a victim of Sunday Funday.”

Mikasa lifted a finger to touch her eye—still puffy, but from tears, rather than drinking.

“Gabi, you’re not supposed to say stuff like that—it’s rude,” Falco chimed in.

“Hey, it’s not my fault she can’t handle her alcohol,” she shrugged, turning back toward Mikasa. “It’s okay, Mikasa, the prettiest girls are always the biggest lightweights. But anyway, are you feeling okay? Does our favorite party girl need some Tylenol? A Liquid IV, maybe? Even a Gatorade?”

Was she supposed to answer honestly? Tell them that she had spent the entirety of her night crying because she and her boyfriend had broken up. That she was sure that the cops almost got called by their neighbors from how loud they were yelling at one another? That Sasha couldn’t even understand her when she called, telling her she needed somewhere to stay because she stormed out of their apartment, not even giving Eren the chance to finish his sentence, somewhere after one of them had uttered the words, “We shouldn’t be together anymore?”

She had been doing so well, pushing the thoughts to the back of her head, trying to get through the entirety of her shift without thinking about everything—about him. She only had an hour left in her shift, but all of her efforts had been to no avail.

It was as if the wind had been knocked out of her, she suddenly lost the ability to breathe, and she felt all the blood drain from her face.

We aren’t together. We aren’t together. We aren’t together. The words playing in her mind on loop.

“Hey, Mikasa. Are you okay?” Falco asked, his eyes flooding with concern as he looked over Mikasa’s current state.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” she said quickly, before running off to the bathroom.

But maybe just this once, Mikasa was lucky for Gabi’s inability to shut her mouth—at least being hungover was a good enough cover for sobbing her eyes out in the bathroom.

[leonisdumbasallhell]

I'll bite. 8, 9, 16 and 21 for the violence asks~

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about Idk, I haven't been as active in fandom stuff recently cause I just kinda vibe in my own little corner, but I feel like people make Chris into a boring hardass, and he's not actually that much of a hardass? re7 and 8 are weird, and he's literally got a brain injury in 6, but in every other thing, Chris is v compassionate and caring. I kinda like a goofier Chris, give him a lil bit of dad energy. I think Chris should get to make a 'hi hungry I'm dad' joke. Tho i also have complex feelings abt him being a father figure to Rose, since like. Literally none of what happened to her Would have happened to her if Chris hadn't been a massive fucking idiot. Like if Chris had just gotten over himself and had a fucking conversation, her dad would probably still be alive, lets be real.

9. worst part of canon ACAB <3 I love raccoon city era stuff cause I think it's really interesting, but boy howdy unfortunate these folks are cops! Also just there's a tendency in wider fandom to glorify cops and the military I find kinda uncomfortable, and i know it's a part of canon, but like. hnnn. Yucky <3 16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc) the 'Leon's a bottom' thing is really annoying tbh. I've made a few jokes abt it in the past, but it just got to be so annoying and kind of gross and I really don't get the appeal of jokes abt ppl's sexual positions. It just seems like a way of degrading a character. Actually, most Leon jokes annoy me, (IE. Leon can't drive, redfield bloodline, Leon's a slut) I just find them all kinda weird and demeaning, and also a lot of them are lowkey feminizing and somehow misogynistic??? How y'all figured out how to be misogynistic to a buff cis man is impressive, so congrats on that ig.

21. part of canon you think is overhyped I don't get the hype around Piers. I just don't find him to be very interesting? like. He's just kinda there. And it feels kinda cheap to have him be the one to bring Chris back when like. If this was supposed to be a return of everyone, where's Claire? Where's Jill? You're telling me that Chris goes missing for 6 months and they're not doing anything about it?? I know there's stuff in the manga that expands on why Piers's important to Chris, but it wasn't really discussed much in game, and I shouldn't have to go read an obscure manga to get an emotional payoff for a mainline game. If I wanted to do that I'd go watch a marvel movie <3

[angelart67]

I lightened the hell way up on my posts on my choice for POTUS about 10 days ago, because, while MOST of the "other side" DEMANDS people respect them, their choices, their options, opinions etc. They also, seem to be, the LAST ONES on Earth to offer the same in return, it's more like ME ME ME, US US US, FUCK YOU, & I got seriously SICK 2 DEATH of being cursed out, called names, & being an "accusation bullseye" by IDIOTS who were evidently not raised with ANY RESPECT for fellow human beings...

I honestly tried, multiple times when verbally attacked, to ask the perpetrator's of these attacks, "Why can't you at least ASK a person completely unknown to you, HOW they formed their opinions, or WHY they decided to share them etc?" BUT nope, I had literally TWO PPL who calmed down on their evilness & vile name calling, long enough to have a conversation, in which (on BOTH occasions) I was a 100% courteous adult in my replies & explanations... on BOTH of those occasions, I was allowed to give my side, my thoughts, etc. the person who originally started out, accusing me, or cursing me, finally (seemed) to understand, I am indeed NOT a Commie, Nazi, or Cult Member, that I was, in fact raised with morals, & Christian values & respect for others, & am able to have a conversation, without it needing to be like a couple of nasty 5th graders going at it, on the playground.

I wish more people out there asked questions prior to jumping to conclusions & just packaging EVERYONE who cast an opposing vote into a neat little box... I guarantee I do NOT think like MOST people, I think like ME, & I'm not just running after the crowd. Hell, I'm a loner, I hate crowds... I just want the right to say, "Look, this happened to me, or, This is why I feel as I do, etc. Plain n simple... All that said, I ultimately decided to limit my TRUMP specific posts, & since then, I have TIGHTENED my Tumblr settings for 2 main reasons, which BOTH are for MY own sanity & peace of mind...

1) I am 100% certain Donald does not NEED me, to be a smashing success, he has proven his abilities to me. I KNOW he's got this...

2) I refuse to engage in battles of wits, with completely unarmed aggressive people, who don't have ANY conversation ability, & come across like gang members, & I don't feel I should have to, they are just extremely ruthless & immature in my eyes...

ALL THAT SAID... I HAVE ALWAYS & DO CONTINUE TO THINK OF ANTHONY FAUCI AS A SELFISH, COLD BLOODED, GREEDY MURDERER & I DO HOLD HIM & HIS LITTLE GROUP OF GOONS (to include Bill Gates & others) RESPONSIBLE FOR MURDERING MY HUSBAND IN 2021, & UNTIL THEY COME OVER & SHUT ME UP, I WILL POST WHATEVER I FEEL I WANT TO ABOUT THEM... IMO, THEY ARE THE BIGGEST OFFENDERS, IN THE HUGE GROUP OTHERWISE KNOWN TO ME, AS THE SWAMP DWELLERS... Soooooo boys, either kick it up a notch & do something to SHUT ME UP, or else SHUT UP & TAKE IT, cause I damned well did not murder your spouse or steal your lhappiness or crush your spirit, & I still pray daily you end up rotting forever in a horrible prison cell, built for the worst possible offenders ever... The death penalty is way too easy for all y'all. You need to suffer daily just like me, & ALL the family members of ALL your other murder victims...

I WOULDN'T EVEN SHOOT YOU ALL UP WITH YOUR OWN LITTLE LAB MADE CRAP VIRUS CONCOCTION...

May God have mercy on you, (because I might have to answer for this) but honestly... I DO NOT & CANNOT FIND FORGIVENESS FOR ANY OF YOU!!! 😡🤬💔😇

Joe Rogan: “Fauci's a freaking demon if you ask me. If you read RFK's book, ‘The Real Anthony Fauci’…he's never been sued. This guy is a Monster. I think a lot of people out there don't realize Fauci funded the Bioweapons Research.” 🤔

[smolfrosted]

Okay uh, little bit of confession time? Cause despite the vents and shit I am actually not that good of a person… I’m trying to not be down right horrible and y’all should be aware of both my faults and the fact that I know about them and am trying

This isn't for pity or anything, and I don't even really want to be making this post but, I just want y'all to know

Sooooo….this sucks but I love you guys/p/fam so I’m gonna be honest

I get angry, easily, it’s not great and I’m aware of it but I’m a naturally a very angry person and pretty much anything and anyone can annoy me if you just give it a little bit of effort

I’m not going to act like I’ve never hit or thrown anything at someone before or yelled in their face and screamed at them but I am going to acknowledge that I no longer do that, I'd never lay a hand on someone with the intention of hurting them unless they have done so to me first

I hit when I’m hit and that’s it, I have far better control over that than I used to, the yelling I’m still working on but it’s better than it used to be

My apathy isn’t great but it’s mostly just there, I run on a “desensitization doesn’t mean disrespect” policy so that generally makes it a non-issue

I live either in anger or in apathy but that isn’t 100% all the time

I’m not great at sympathetic reactions though, there’s a word for that I think kinda describes it for me in German and it’s “schadenfreude”

That basically translates to malicious happiness, I’m not like a full sadist or anything but if something bad happens my instinct is to laugh at it, not at anything severe in real life but if idk someone tripped and fell down the stairs and wasn’t severely hurt or injured then I’d probably end up laughing at them, it comes off as mean really easily but it’s not meant to be that way, it’s just how I am idk why

I am undeniably selfish, I grew up spoiled, I am both an only child and until recently had parents that made more money than a good portion of my friends, that's not me trying to brag, I'm being honest, back before my father started being a complete idiot he was making ten thousand a month, we had good health insurance, could afford nice houses and my parents have almost always had two vehicles, I literally spent a good portion of my life as a toddler in a princess dress when I wasn't sick or at the doctors

I am spoiled, and consciously try to not be entitled or braggy but fuck is it hard sometimes and it shouldn't be

I growing up had good parents, they weren't perfect by any means and one of them is an actual piece of shit now, but I had a good childhood. Most of my mental shit isn't from trauma but likely genetics and my brains probable inability to properly regulate it's chemicals

My mother and I fight a lot, she doesn't hit as much as I make it seem, and she never let my father lay a hand on me, if he did she'd kill him

We both instigate arguments and we both aren't great at walking away from them without either trying to reinitiate it or just... continuing to yell after the person, we are both stubborn and bad at yielding

My mother has gone through a lot of shit that she doesn't deserve, and I am religious (Christian) and believe in miracles, and the one thing she wanted was a daughter and here I am

I am worse than the sister she prayed I wouldn't be like, I am rude and insensitive and am both occasionally straight up ungrateful and when I am grateful I'm horrible at showing it

I am bad at telling people that I love them, and don't actually know what familial love feels like, I know that I care and what romantic love feels like but idk it's weird that I'm like this/neu

I know it doesn't seem that way online but I assure you that if/when we meet irl the most likely response to "I love you" that you'll get will just be "okay" with no real facial expression, pressing to make me actually say it just makes me nervous and visibly uncomfortable, online it's easy though idk why

My mom loves me, I know this, despite her faults and mine, and no I'm not excusing shit she's done, she has stuff to work on and change, but I also have a tendency to believe that I'm 100% in the right and have done nothing wrong, that's not true and holy shit am I good at starting shit and causing problems

I'm good at taking offense or acting like I do even if I don't, I'm sarcastic and rude and generally really bitchy, my mom is 99% of the time very very positive and an overall optimist, I am very much not that

When I can read people I'm very good at verbally hitting people where it hurts, arguing with me is either just over all horrible or exceedingly hurtful, I have a not great memory but when it comes to fighting I will easily bring up anything negative that someone has done and can very very easily drive a metaphorical knife into them with it

I am bad at forgiveness and bad at apologizing, I hold grudges forever

My instinct is self pity and wallowing, but I am far better at apologizing to people than I used to be

I have a, now less bad, fear of the consequences of my actions, I can be unintentionally manipulative when I don't want to get in trouble or someone to be mad at me, like when I was younger I have started crying before to try to not get into trouble

Never with the mindset of "oh let me manipulate my way out of this" but instead "oh shit oh shit oh shit I don't want to get in trouble" and yeah idk why my brain goes to "get out of this" instead of "just fucking apologize damn it" but I understand that that's manipulative be it intentionally or not and it doesn't happen as much anymore and I'm working on it

...cool, so, uh that's me, real me, I'm actually kinda a horrible person, and while I'm aware that no one is 100% a good person, I also understand that I'm not someone that anyone would call a good person, but again I do love you all, at least as much as I think I can, and I'm trying

Totally understand if we aren't moots after this, that's y'all's decision, not mine, and I respect that

Merry Christmas, and whenever evening hits, Happy Hanukkah