#im upset. im elated. im.

[briefcasejuice]

l'eclisse (1962) / dir. michelangelo antonioni

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

whumptober day four

No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.” Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”

tws: whumpee thinks caretaker is a whumper, cattle prod mention (as a weapon towards whumpee, cows are not in here)

ahaha I don't love this one but I don't think it's too bad

There’s knocking, on the door, and Whumpee swallows. Whumper doesn’t usually knock, but maybe they’re in one of their better moods today. Maybe they’ll be nice and hurt Whumpee less, or give them water after. That happens, sometimes, if Whumpee has been good, if Whumper gets good news from somewhere and isn’t so stressed.

“Whumpee?” the person says on the other side of the door, and Whumpee frowns. That isn’t Whumper’s voice. That is not- fuck. No one is supposed to know about Whumpee except Whumper. And Whumpee knows that the cattle prod is still around here somewhere from the last time Whumper used it, which means that this new person might have it.

The only coherent thought Whumpee can form is fuck and that is not a thought that is going to help. Whumper is supposed to be here. Whumper is supposed to fix things like this. Whumpee’s only jobs are to sit still when Whumper is stressed and tries to take it out of them, which isn’t really a skill set that’s going to be useful here.

Whumpee is temporarily relieved when they remember that their door is always kept locked, and starts to relax, only to hear the soft click of the lock turning.

Well, that’s not- not really the best case scenario here.

“You in there, Whumpee?” the voice calls, and Whumpee hears the doorknob start to turn. They scramble to find somewhere to hide, but Whumper always hates when Whumpee tries to hide and has removed almost anywhere that could be useful.

Fuck.

There’s the bathroom. It doesn’t have a door or a shower curtain, but it’s out of the direct line of sight from the doorway that leads to the hall. It’s better than nothing, Whumpee thinks, hoping that the stranger doesn’t catch sight of them ducking into the bathroom while the door swings open.

“It doesn’t look like there’s anyone here, Caretaker,” someone complains, different from the previous voice. Shitshitshit how many people are there? But okay. Okay. It doesn’t look like there’s anyone there, which means Whumpee is doing a good job at hiding. They hold their breath, trying to stop shaking, hoping that if they stay still then no one will think to check here.

“They have to be here. Whumper’s an asshole, but all the information they’ve given us so far has been true.”

“Yeah, so far.”

Oh. Oh, no. These people have been sent here by Whumper. Why, why, why had Whumpee thought it’d be okay for them to decide who was and wasn’t allowed here? When was the last time Whumpee was supposed to decide anything, and when had they started believing that was a thing they could do?

Whumpee is breathing as shallowly and quietly as possible. At this point, it’s borderline disobedience, but all they do is keep hiding. They suppose they’ll be punished regardless—Whumper does not send people to coddle Whumpee. It’s only a matter of time before they’re found and put in their place, and Whumpee decides that their few moments of time before being found are more important than the punishment they’ll receive for hiding.

“Whumpee?” one of the people calls again. “Are you here? We’re not with Whumper. Gonna get you out of here.”

Not with Whumper. It’s a lie, and possibly also a joke. Everyone is with Whumper. Doing what they tell you is a trap, and doing anything else is a death sentence.

Whumpee keeps holding their breath.

[amethyst-halo]

here’s my doodles from reading sky spoilers god that was a book huh

also some unfinished doodles:

[windupaidoneus]

ok ive finished the dlc so now i can properly say my least favourite thing about dragon age awakening is that the women feel like an afterthought & don't fit in the group at all. & i want to care about them & their banter so much. but i really don't because the game is giving me fucking nothing

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Already Mine | Bucky Barnes; Part Two

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> After the first time together and the confessing of your feelings the two are in a relationship. When the morning sickness starts and your period isn’t there in time you do a pregnancy test.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 4.665

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, pregnancy test, slight angst, Bucky’s past trauma, Smut, fingering (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, breeding kink, dirty talk, using the word slut, praises, a lot of fluff

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> Idea for already mine pt 2. Reader and Bucky and together now, but after that night, unless its Bucky groaning about how he is going to impregnate the reader as he fills her up, they have never spoken about it outside the bedroom. so when the test comesout positive, the reader is worried if thats what Bucky wants with the whole 'im still getting used to the new world and repaying my sins' thing going on. so she feels really scared and breaks down when Bucky asks her about it. and when she does tell him, he's so elated atthe same time a tad bit upset and himself that you feel like he wouldnt want the child? so basically smut, like smut with a lot lot lot of feral talk at the same time love filled breeding kink, claiming, him telling her how he is gonna marry her. just a lot of lust and love and dirty talking. yeah. @almosttoopizza

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you so much for the idea for the second part of Already Mine. And I hope you like what I made with it.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> Already Mine | Part One

Fandom-Free Bingo: Frosty Edition | B2 | Stripped | @fandom-free-bingo

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Since the two of you had your first time together, you haven’t really talked about details. You two are together, but none of you is mentioning anything about getting kids. Bucky has a huge breeding kink, and you really don’t mind; you like it, and whenever you have sex, he has such a filthy mouth, and hearing his sexy thoughts turns you on beyond belief. His hands are all over your body, and his cock is buried inside of you, while he tells you how good you feel and that he will give you a lot of little kids who are all like him and are at the same time hot and cute.

Right now, you’re lying with Bucky behind you in your shared bed. His arm is wrapped around your stomach, holding you tightly against him. Bucky snores softly into your neck, his warm breath giving you goosebumps all over your body. You smile softly, his warmth running through your body, and you lean more into him.

You wear a shirt and boxers, and his hand is placed underneath the shirt on your bare skin. After a long night and a lot of orgasms, he cleaned the two of you and gave you some clothes to wear - your favorite ones, because they are his.

When you slowly turn around to look at your boyfriend, you feel an uncomfortable and hurting feeling growing in your stomach. It slowly crawls higher until it reaches your throat, and you feel like you just want to throw up to get rid of everything you ate yesterday. You hold one of your hands on your stomach, and while you wiggle out of Bucky’s arm, you place his arm next to you and get out of bed. Then you almost run into the bathroom, and just in time, you manage to sit in front of it before you lean over it and let go of everything that comes out of you. Tears are burning in your eyes. When you lean back, a quiet sob escapes your mouth, and you hold your hand under your chin, looking at the wall while your stomach feels like it’s spinning around.

Bucky feels your shifting, and when you remove his hand, he growls softly. He listens to your footsteps, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion when he hears you walking really fast. And when he hears you throwing up, he almost jumps out of bed. On his way into the bathroom, he grabs a blanket and a bottle of water. You’re still sitting in front of the toilet, crying while you throw up a second time. Bucky walks closer, getting on his knees next to you and wrapping the blanket around your trembling body. He holds you close and makes you a bun, then he strokes your back softly.

“Is oke, are you feeling better?” he asks, softly wiping a few tears out of your face.

You shake your head, holding your stomach, while you press yourself more against him. His warm embrace relaxes you a bit. Bucky moves slowly forward and backward, and then he offers you the bottle of water.

After a few more minutes, you feel better, and Bucky helps you get up and carries you into bed. His hand strokes your forehead, but it’s not hot, so he relaxes softly. Maybe you just ate something you shouldn’t have eaten? Without a word, you know that he is worried about you, but he tries his best to hide it. His ocean-blue eyes aren’t as bright as usual when he shifts softly.

“I’m fine, Buck. Maybe just a gastrointestinal infection,” you say and sit up, with your back against the headboard. You smirk. “But I’m hungry now.”

Bucky chuckles, pressing you softly back when you try to get up. His eyebrow is raised when you look at him, pouting, but he just kisses away and turns around to make his way to the kitchen.

“Don’t even think of getting up; I will bring you your food, doll,” he shouts from the floor, his voice demanding, and you know better than to disobey him.

With a groan, you look for the remote on the television, turn it on, and look through the channel until you find something good to watch. When Bucky comes back with two places in your hands, you inhale deeply, and your smile grows when you smell your favorite food.

“You’re the best, Bucky,” you say, taking the plate he hands you.

“I know; that’s why I’m your boyfriend.”

Bucky walks around the bed and sits down next to you. The two of you enjoy your breakfast, your stomach feels slightly better, and after getting a lot of kisses from your boyfriend, you’re happy and don’t even think about your stomachache.

— —

After a few more days and the morning sickness still being there, you call your best friend, Natasha. She usually has an explanation for everything about women’s issues and always knows how to cheer you up. Bucky is currently in a meeting and won’t be home before dinner, so you pick up your phone from the bed and unlock it before you call Nat.

“Hey, girly,” she greets you happily, and you smirk. “What’s up? Bucky said you’re not feeling well in the mornings?”

You hum softly. Bucky asked you to talk with Steve and Natasha, and of course, you allowed him. Especially since he gets used to things in modern times. For you and the others, those things are normal, but for him, it’s sometimes like the biggest science thing. So is his relationship with you, and he wants to be the best boyfriend he can be for you. When he needs help, he turns to either you or Steve, and because he lives with Natasha, she is always aware of it. But you don’t mind; she is your best friend, like Steve.

“Yeah. And my period, I- Nat, I didn't have it for a while now.”

You hear the gasp on the other side of the phone, and then she almost screams in excitement.

“You know what that means, right? You’re pregnant!”

“But- Do you think Bucky can get children? I mean, because of the things Hydra did with him, don’t you think they took care that he wouldn’t be able to get kids? In case he would have had sex with someone?”

Nat is quiet for a moment, then she clears her throat.

“You can find it out really easily. Just make a test, and when it’s positive, you know that he can get kids,” she says, amused.

“What when it’s positive and he doesn’t want any?”

“Damn, he is in love with you more than that. He can’t even look at you without smiling; when he wants something, it’s a family with you,” she says softly, but you just hum.

When you both hang up, you walk into the bathroom. You got a test from Natasha and Steve a while ago. It was a party - hosted by Tony - and you played a game where you gave your best friends a present they could or could not need at some point. When you’re in the bathroom, you look for the test and read the instructions, then you do what they tell you to do. After placing it on the counter, you look at your phone, and in fifteen minutes, you know if you’re pregnant or not.

Those fifteen minutes feel like forever; the pregnancy test doesn’t show you a result before, even when you look at it every minute. Your heart races, and your head spins slightly because of the nervousness. You hear your blood rushing through your veins, your phone still in your hand while you look up and down from it. You shift from one foot to the other, sweat covering your forehead, when the result is almost there.

Your mind is filled with so many thoughts about Bucky; how would he react when you’re pregnant? Would he leave you, or does he really want a child with you? Is he already ready to have a child at all? Are you ready for a child? Does your relationship break when you’re pregnant, or would he still love you? During sex, the thoughts of being pregnant are definitely different; they are hot. But with the test in front of you, it’s another feeling between happiness and nervousness - your feelings are a complete mess.

You haven’t recognized that you stare at the wall until your phone vibrates and you look down, looking at the teat that tells you if you’re pregnant or not. A part of you hopes to see a yes; the other part is unsure how you feel when it shows you that you would carry Bucky’s baby inside your belly.

When you finally look down and read what the pregnancy test tells you, you feel the tears streaming down your cheeks. Every emotion overcomes you, and you let yourself fall to the ground, your legs pressing against your chest while you hold your legs tightly. You sob loudly, a bit because of happiness and a bit because you don’t know how to handle the emotions you have at the moment. You’re pregnant. With Bucky, you are going to become parents, and it feels so fantastic that you just can’t help but cry.

Your phone vibrates a few times next to you, but you’re just staring at the pregnancy test in your hands; you can’t believe it. The smile across your face grows whenever you read the word “pregnant” written on the little display of the test.

When you slowly calm down and look at your phone, you see a message Bucky sent just a few minutes ago. He asked what you wanted to eat and if he should bring some or if you wanted to cook. You smile when you scroll the message down and see the bunch of emojis he used. There are a lot of hearts and other cute emojis, and between them is written “I love you, my precious doll” and your smile grows when you see that. As much as he looks like a complete jerk when he uses emojis, you absolutely love and adore it. You tell him to bring some food, then you stand up and pick up the pregnancy test, bringing it into the bedroom to place it in your wardrobe.

You’re still unsure how to feel, especially how to tell Bucky and how he reacts when you tell him that the two of you have become parents. You love him, and you know he loves you, but that doesn’t mean that he wants or is ready for the next step in your relationship.

When Bucky comes home, you’re sitting in bed, watching television. He walks into your shared bedroom, smiling widely when he holds the food in his hands. You smile back, but not the way he is used to seeing you when he comes home. Usually you would hug him and ask him quietly for a lot of kisses, but now you’re sitting in bed and waiting until he comes closer and kisses you softly.

“Hey, doll. Everything alright?”

You nod, and he places the food on your lap. Then he takes off his shoes and jacket and sits down next to you. You hand him his food, not really looking at him or talking to him. Bucky clenches his jaw. Did he do something wrong? Are you mad at him because of something? Or don’t you love him anymore?

“Baby?”

“Mhm?”

You look at him, smiling softly, but it’s not the real smile that is formed on your lips. It’s a forced one, and Bucky feels uncomfortable when he sees you not being as happy as he is used to seeing you and you trying to hide it.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, looking at you with his beautiful blue eyes.

Your lips start to tremble, and your body shakes slightly, but Bucky sees it; he sees the way you try to hide the upcoming tears in your eyes. Even when you turn your head away and let the tears stream down your cheeks to hide them, Bucky grips your chin and tilts it towards him, making you look at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, and his voice shakes slightly.

You shake your head, not able to say something without crying. He rubs his big hand over the small of your back. The way Bucky touches you and his warm hand feels against your body helps you calm down. The feelings are overwhelming, but you also want to tell him that you’re pregnant and let him feel the happiness you feel.

“I-I’m- Bucky; don’t be mad, but we- we’re pregnant,” you mumble, looking at everything but him, in case he isn’t as happy as you about it.

He gasps; a smile forms on his lips, but it fades away as fast as it came. Bucky is happy to become the father of a child that he will have with you, but the way you don’t look at him and have cried before makes him unsure. He definitely misread your expression, and he feels guilty for impregnating you. Maybe you don’t want to have a child; maybe you do, but not with him. When you turn your head, you see his cold expression. He doesn’t smile; he just stares at you. Then he gets up and walks out of the bedroom, not even saying a word.

When he leaves the room, you start to cry again, your hands holding your belly and stroking it softly. You don’t understand why he acts like that. Isn’t he happy to become a dad? Isn’t he ready to have a child, or does he want to have a family with someone else and feels like he is responsible for you now?

Bucky rushes out of the room, his hands sliding through his hair, and he tugs at them harshly. He should have used a condom, and you should have used protection. Now you carry a baby inside of you, and he already loves the little one, but you don’t, do you? How can you love a child who is from a person like him, a cold assassin? Someone who doesn’t know how modern technology works until someone explains it to him: How can you love him now when you have a baby inside your wonderful belly, his baby inside it. You didn’t even look at him; you cried because of him because he breeds you. Because he was so needy and needed to fuck a baby inside of you. A thought he loves, but a thought you seem to hate. He blames himself, and now he just ran out of the room to get some air. How can you love him when he can’t be there for you? How can he care for someone so small and innocent?

You get out of bed, tears blurring your view, but you just want to know what Bucky thinks about your child. So you make your way to the door, and when you look through the floor, you see him at the end of it, sitting on the ground and crying silently that he messed up so badly and that you probably don’t want him to be the dad of the child. His hands tug at his hair, while his knees are pressed against his body.

The picture in front of you reminds you of the first time you met Bucky, when he suffered because of his nightmare and his past. When he wasn’t able to get sleep, he just wanted to get some comfort and love. And it hurts you to see him like that again; you don’t want anything else but to see him happy. You have happy news, but he looks like he isn’t happy about them?

With a few slow steps, you walk closer to him. He recognizes you, but he doesn’t look up. Bucky doesn’t want you to see the trails of tears on his cheeks, and he doesn’t want you to see his red eyes. You kneel in front of him, then you capture his cheeks with your hands and make him look up at you. Your eyes are as red as his, but the blue shinning when he sees you can push the darkest clouds away.

“Bucky, we- we don’t have to become a child when you’re not ready yet. Even when you never want a child with me, it’s oke. I love you, and that is all that matters,” you say, your thumbs slowly wiping his tears away.

“I-I want it? But it seemed like you didn't want it. "I thought it was because you don't want a child with me," Bucky murmurs, his gaze drawn to your lips.

“I want. You can give me as many babies as you want, as long as they are like you.”

When he smiles, you lean closer and kiss him softly. His soft, plumb lips brush against yours, and you sigh. The warmth is rushing through your body until it reaches your cunt, and you press your legs together.

“Time for lunch?” Bucky asks with a smirk, mischievous and needy, and you nod.

You both stand up, and before you can take a step backwards, he lifts you up. You squeal, then you wrap your legs and arms around him. Bucky’s hands slide to your ass, squeezing it while he hums. He walks along the floor until he reaches your bedroom and walks into it, letting you fall onto the bed. Bucky towers over you, his lips chasing yours, and you melt into his touch. The food that is still on the bed finds its way onto the floor, and when you want to complain about the mess, Bucky shushes you with a lovely and passionate kiss. His hand slides down your sides, and he kisses your jaw and neck before he kneels down between your legs. He lifts your t-shirt, his metal hand slowly stroking your belly.

“Hey, little one. Make some space, yeah? I want to give your mommy some pleasure.” Bucky mumbles and kisses your stomach, making you laugh.

Bucky looks at you, smiling, before he trails kisses down your body until he reaches the waistband of your pants. With one movement, he takes your pants together, with your panties off, and groans when he sees your glistening folds. His fingers trail along your thighs before he slides two of his metal fingers through your folds, making you whine. He plays softly with your clit before he lets go to you and takes off his t-shirt, knowing that you get turned on even more when you see his bare skin and especially his muscles flexing while he makes you cum in his fingers.

“Take off your shirt and bra; I want to see my precious doll without the covering fabric,” he groans, and wait until you do, like he told you.

You sit up and take off the shirt, then you open the bra to let it slide down your arms and place it next to you. Bucky smiles, leaning closer to kiss your thighs while his hands are stoking over your sides and lower belly, before he uses his metal hand to glide his fingers through your folds, making you squirm. Bucky’s eyes are focused on your wet pussy, and with his broad shoulder, he holds your legs spread apart. He slowly guides his fingers further down until he reaches your entrance and dips his fingertip into it. You’re clenching around nothing, and Bucky chuckles while he slowly works his finger into your wet, tight hole. You moan, pushing yourself more against him. Bucky pushes his finger completely inside of you, slowly stroking your walls before he pulls it out of you and pushes his finger back inside of you. The cold of his metal finger lets you shiver, but you like the cold compared to your hot skin.

“You’re feeling so well around my finger already,” he mumbles, kissing your thigh.

Then he adds another finger, massaging your sweet spot softly while your moans are getting louder and you arch your back. Your fingers are digging into the bed sheets, grounding yourself.

“That’s it; come for me,” he says in a demanding tone.

He knows your body so well that he can tell how often he needs to stroke your sweet spot to make you come, how much your walls are clenching when you’re close, and how your moans sound when you’re at the edge of letting go and letting the pleasure flow through you.

“Bucky-“ you moan, lips parted slightly.

You come all over his fingers; your juice is flowing over his fingers; and the sound when he pushes his fingers in and out of you makes it all so much hotter. With another stroke of his fingers against your sweet spot, you squirt all over his fingers, and he smirks while he slows the pace of his fingers.

“Mhm, you did so well for me, doll. Made just a mess all over me. Now I’m gonna breed you. I pump you so full with my babies. You won’t be able to walk for at least a day when I have my seeds all in you, when you’re sweating but still begging for more. You will be such a little slut for my dick, won’t you?”

You moan; the way he talks to you makes you needier, and you press yourself against him. You’re so desperate for him and his cock. Bucky gets up, opening his belt and zipper before he takes his pants off, throwing them somewhere in the room. His rock-hard member is visible through his boxers, pre-cum soaking the fabric, and you bite your bottom lip. Bucky slips his underwear down as well, revealing his hard cock. Then he walks closer, leaning over you. Bucky kisses a trail from your throat down to your breasts, biting your skin softly.

“Mhm, I love you, every inch of you, baby,” he groans and kisses along your breasts, leaving hickeys all over your collarbone. “All mine; see, you’re all mine.”

His hands slide your sides up and down, causing goosebumps all over your body. Bucky chuckles softly, capturing your cheeks and pressing his lips against yours. Bucky helps you to move further into the bed, kneeling between your legs while his thick cock slides over your pussy, making you gasp softly.

“Bucky-“

“Shh, you get my cock.”

Your fingers are grabbing his hair, tugging at it while you pull him closer. His blue eyes pierce into yours, his hands slide down between your bodies, and he grips the base of his member, guiding his tip through your wet folds. Bucky smears his pre-cum and your juices all over his tip, groaning softly. Then he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes slowly inside of you. He stretches you perfectly, making you moan into his mouth while he enters you inch by inch. Your nails are digging into Bucky’s shoulder, holding him close. Your walls clench deliciously around his thick cock.

“You feel so good; I want to come immediately inside you. I will fill you and give you all. And then you will carry our pretty little babies, my precious doll,” Bucky says, kissing your cheek while he doesn’t move his dick inside of you.

“Please, move,” you whine, arching your back and pressing yourself more against him.

“So desperate, aren’t you? You look so innocent, but you’re such a little desperate slut for my dick, aren’t you?”

“Fuck, Bucky.”

“Tell me, are you my little cock-hungry slut?”

“I’m. I’m your little cock-hungry slut, but please move.”

Bucky grins, pulling slowly out of you before he pushes his dick back inside of you. You’re clenching around him, your walls holding him tightly, and you moan when he hits your sweet spot immediately. A rough chuckle leaves his lips while he rolls his hips against yours, his dick fitting perfectly into your wet, warm hole, and the sounds that leave your mouth - so desperate and needy - making Bucky go crazy. His cock hits all the right spots, and you grip his shoulders harsher, pressing your hips more against him. Bucky slowly starts to thrust into you, and at a steady pace, he hits your sweet spot whenever he is inside of you. You’re just a moaning mess underneath him, nails digging into his soft skin, while he looks with so much adoration in his eyes at you that you want to melt.

“My precious doll. I’m gonna breed you. Give you all I have, and you will be filled completely. My cum is going to leak out of you, and I will push it all back so you will get so many little babies with me,” Bucky mumbles, his forehead resting against yours.

You smile; he has such a filthy mouth when you have sex, and the way his body feels against yours and his dick feels inside your walls makes you feel complete. His member is stroking your walls so perfectly. You clench around him, squeeze him, and Bucky wants to bury his dick all the time between your tight wall.

“I love you so much; you will be the best mother. We are going to be parents, baby. You make me so happy, and becoming the daddy of our little pretty baby, having a family with you, doll-“ Bucky interrupts himself and presses his lips on yours.

You giggle softly until his thrusts become faster and harder. He chuckles while he thrusts with a harsh pace inside of you. Bucky’s metal hand slides down between your legs; he rubs small circles on your clit, making you gasp and moan even louder. Your back is arched, Bucky’s hands gripping his shoulder tighter, he slides his hand up your body, and then he lets his body fall on top of yours. His warm chest is pressed against yours, sweat coating both of your bodies.

“Come, doll. All over my dick, squeeze my dick like the good girl you are,” he says, kissing and biting softly the soft skin of your neck.

The trimmed hair is gracing over your clit, and your eyes roll back. The pleasure in your stomach grows while Bucky looks at you, focused on your face while your orgasm rushes through your body. You mumble Bucky’s name over and over while you come. Your toes curl, and you press your thighs together, or at least as much as it’s possible with Bucky between them. Your walls clench around him, squeezing him. Bucky doesn’t need long until he comes inside your pussy. His white, warm seeds are painting your walls. Bucky breathes heavily, thrusting a few more times inside of you before he kisses you. Your hands are running through his sweaty hair, and you tug at them, making him groan.

“Do you need more? Do you need to be filled with more cum? Such a filthy little doll,” he says, smirking. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Buck.”

“You know my dick will be inside of you until I’m sure you’re pregnant with more of my babies.”

“You know that I can’t be more pregnant when I’m already pregnant?”

Bucky nods, but he doesn’t move an inch. He is pushing his seeds with his dick deep into your pussy, and he looks so proud that you laugh softly.

“You’re cute, you know that?” you ask.

“You know that you have to deal with more of me in a bit, right?”

His eyes light up when he asks that question; anticipation flows through his veins, and he kisses every inch of your face. Making you giggle. You haven’t seen Bucky happy like that in a while, but you’re glad he is happy, especially because it’s of you, and that the two of you will become parents to a little one soon.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

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[spncrscasey]

Workaholic (j.w.)

Fandom/Characters: House M.D. - James Wilson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Children either bring couples together, or push them apart. Unfortunately in your case, it was the latter.

Warnings: baby talk, miscarriage, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, unhealthy coping mechanisms, tumor/cancer mention, happy ending don't worry, and a BUNCH of pet names (these people are sickly in love- its insane)

a/n: almost finished with season 1 of house and i love wilson so so much, he’s such a cutie patootie. anyway i don’t know how accurate this is because i haven’t seen much of the show yet so im going off spoilers and random reasearch lol but hopefully it makes sense and yall enjoy it <3

You were currently sitting in the bathroom of your office staring at the test in front of you. You couldn’t believe it. Two lines. You were pregnant.

You were elated. As the Head of Pediatrics, you had ample experience working with children, which made you even more excited about the chance of being a mom since starting a family has always been a dream of yours.

However, you were unsure about how your husband would react to the news. Although you had discussed having kids with James on a few occasions, you never officially agreed to start trying. So it would be an understatement to say that you felt nervous about telling him.

You let out a sigh, carefully sliding the test into your pocket before hesitantly rising to your feet. Despite your concerns, you had to tell him, he has the right to know. Leaving your office, you made your way to the Oncology Department to seek out your husband.

Once you approached his office, you noticed the door slightly ajar, letting you know he was inside. You took a deep breath before gently pushing the door open.

“Hey, dear,” you said smiling at him when he looked up from his files to meet your eyes.

“Hi there sweetheart, how's my favorite girl doing?” He rose from his chair and sauntered around his desk to reach you, where he wrapped his arms around your waist, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You didn't respond right away opting to look at your shoes and avoid his eyes, anxious about the news you were about to deliver. He was instantly worried, furrowing his brows in confusion. “Is everything okay?”

“James, honey, I have something I need to tell you.” You whispered but he heard it anyway.

“Of course Y/N, anything.” His voice dripped with fear as he anticipated what you were about to tell him. Considering you were wife number four, he was bracing himself for you to finally tell him you were leaving. Preparing for the worst, almost expecting the divorce papers even though your marriage had been nothing but perfect.

Yet his thoughts were cut short when you blurted out the information you'd been keeping in for the last twenty minutes. “I’m pregnant.”

You gazed into his eyes, trying to decipher his emotions, but they revealed nothing. His expression was unreadable, leaving you feeling even more uneasy.

“We're going to have a baby?” He questioned, shocked. You nodded and pulled out the pregnancy test to show him. He held it, staring at it, bewildered. It was clear he was processing the information, but his thoughts were kept hidden. Yet, you felt optimistic, hopeful that he wasn't showing signs of being upset.

“We’re having a baby!” He repeated with an enormous grin on his face, instantly enveloping you in a tight embrace.

As you hugged him back, a yelp of excitement escaped your lips. He lifted you off the ground, spinning you around as your laughter filled the air. You gently caressed his cheeks, planting quick and tender kisses all over his face. Joy radiating off of the both of you.

He slowly placed you back on the floor, eliciting a giggle from your lips at the way he was suddenly handling you with caution. “Relax, Jamie, I won't break. You don't have to be so careful, you know.” You reassure him, fingers tangling in his hair.

“You're carrying our baby! Some might say I'm not being careful enough!” He exclaimed back, resting his hands on your hips.

There's a comfortable silence for a moment while you both hold each other as everything sinks in.

“I'm glad you're okay with this.” You admit, leaning your forehead against his.

“Okay? Baby, I've never been happier! This is the best day of my life— well, besides the day I met you obviously.” He clarifies, earning a chuckle from you.

“You’re going to be a great dad, James.”

“And you're going to be an even greater mom, sweetheart.” He responds before delicately pressing his lips against yours.

You were eleven weeks pregnant. Your OB mentioned you'd be able to find out the baby's gender at your next appointment. Which you were on the way to right now. James couldn't make it due to a consult House had dragged him to but you reassured him that it was fine. You'd surprise him with a mini gender reveal celebration later.

You already had it planned. You'd go to the baby store and buy an article of clothing corresponding to the gender and wrap it in white to keep it concealed. It would be a special moment between you that you'd cherish for the rest of your life. Just the simple thought of it brought a smile to your face as you walked into the exam room, waiting to be checked out.

The nurse finally entered the room and began the procedure. She squeezed the gel onto your stomach and started the ultrasound. You watched intently, still struggling to comprehend the fact that there was an actual baby growing inside of you. The baby you and James had created, the baby your love had created. Your eyes twinkled in happiness at the idea of the family you'd soon become, the corners of your lips turning upwards.

Your smile faltered though when you noticed a momentary expression on the nurse's face that made you apprehensive. Before you were able to analyze it further, she left, informing you that the doctor would see you shortly.

Your heart began racing. What could that mean? Was the baby okay? Were you okay? What was wrong? Yes, you were a doctor, but suddenly all medical knowledge had left your brain. It's like you couldn't focus on anything but the notion that something was clearly not alright.

Your obstetrician stepped into the room, stopping you from spiraling further. A solemn expression on her face.

“Dr. Montgomery- How’s the baby? Is everything okay? Can we know the sex?” You hurriedly asked, letting it all out at once.

“Y/N, I'm sorry. You've had a miscarriage.” She said, looking at you sympathetically.

The world around you suddenly froze in place. Doctor Montgomery’s lips continued to move, providing information, but no sound reached your ears. It was as if her voice was distant and muffled, and all you could concentrate on was the fact that your baby was gone.

Your surroundings suddenly became blurry, hands trembled uncontrollably. How could this have happened? Both you and James had been incredibly careful and wary throughout the pregnancy. What went wrong?

You didn't even realize when she exited the room, leaving you in solitude with your thoughts. You felt numb, detached from the world that kept on spinning as if the devastating news didn't matter. Why was everyone going about their day as if nothing had happened when you had just received such heartbreaking news about not being able to have your baby? You hated it. You were mad at the world, mad at the doctor, mad at yourself.

You got to your feet and made your way to your husband's office, almost as if on autopilot. It felt surreal like your body was being guided by some invisible force through the busy corridors. It was as though your legs were moving of their own accord, taking you where you needed to be, letting your mind wander.

You suddenly found yourself standing in front of the glass doors, unsure of how you had ended up there in the first place. You hesitantly pushed the door open and entered.

As if you hadn't been through enough today, James’ office was found to be empty. The one person you needed at the moment wasn't here, which frustrated you even more. Logically, you knew it wasn't his fault. He's a doctor too. He probably got stuck with House’s consult, yet you were too distraught to think clearly, your distress clouding your judgment. So instead, you took a seat on the couch, waiting for his eventual return.

You sat there, lost in thought, staring into space, unaware of how much time had passed. Not even the sound of the office door being pulled and James entering could draw your attention.

He, however, saw you. Face instantly beaming. “Hey hun, how was the appointment?” He inquired, clueless to your expression since you had your back turned.

Noticing your lack of acknowledgment, he swiftly rushed over to you. Kneeling in front of your seated body, taking your hands in his. “Y/N, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

His touch finally snapped you out of your thoughts, causing you to meet his concerned gaze. Tears filled your eyes as you whispered, barely audible, “I lost it.”

“Lost what angel? What's going on?” He questioned further, slowly moving his hands to cup your face.

“The baby, James. I lost our baby,” You explained, letting out a sob while falling forward.

He quickly caught you, putting his hands around you to hold you tightly, unable to believe the news himself. He clutched onto you, not only in a way to comfort you but himself as well. Tears kept streaming down your face, and the reality of the situation finally sank in. It felt like you hadn't come to terms with it until just now. You nuzzled your face into his chest, no doubt soaking his dress shirt, but you were too overwhelmed to care.

You could hear a few sniffles coming from him too, which only added to the heartbreak you were feeling. Knowing that you were the cause of his pain, the reason behind his tears. It made it all the more unbearable. The realization that you were the one who had resulted in the end of the life of the baby you both had hoped to raise was finally getting through to you, and it was crushing.

If you had communicated your feelings, he would have immediately reassured you that he would never hold you responsible for this. And he would have been right. No matter how upsetting it may be, these things happen, it wasn't your fault. But your brain wasn't functioning right presently, and all it could see was the pain you believed you were causing the both of you.

You lost track of how long the two of you held each other like that. Time was spent with you mostly crying, and him trying to hold himself together while whispering sweet nothings into your ear. It was supposed to be comforting, but it wasn't. Nothing he said would bring your baby back. You let him try regardless, knowing it was his way of coping with the loss.

It had been two weeks since you found out. Two weeks since your life changed for the worse.

There were many ways to deal with a loss. Attend grief support groups, see a therapist, journal, meditate— yet here you were, ignoring all of those and overworking yourself to death instead.

In your head, if you couldn't save and care for your own baby, you were determined to do it for others.

As a result, over the past two weeks, you've thrown yourself into your work. You'd been getting home late while leaving early in the mornings, picking up extra shifts, and spending more time at the clinic— all to avoid confronting the event that occurred.

Was it healthy? No. Was it working? Yes.

You found yourself isolating from everyone and everything. Even your own husband. You didn't mean to avoid him, it just happened that way because you were hardly ever at home anymore. Cuddy had even asked you to go home and rest up on multiple occasions but you refused each time, insisting that you were fine.

You were currently at the clinic, examining a patient who had an unknown mass in her stomach. It was likely a tumor so you were forced to page your husband, Dr. Wilson, Head of Oncology.

You didn't want to do it, knowing that if you paged him here, the conversation would end with him forcing you to open up. As it would be the first time you two would have an actual exchange in the last two weeks. But for your patient's sake, you were ready to set aside your personal issues and focus on her well-being. So you did what you had to do, and hesitantly paged him.

He was inside the exam room within five minutes.

Unbeknownst to you, seeing your name on his pager spiked his heart rate. He hadn't truly spoken to his wife in what felt like forever and seeing that she needed him was a relief. This was finally his opportunity to talk to you.

“You paged me, Dr. Y/L/N?” He asked as he stepped inside.

“Yes actually, Dr. Wilson, could you check what that mass is on the left side of her abdomen?” You pointed toward where the mass was.

“May I?” He asked the patient, motioning towards her body to which she nodded.

Upon receiving the woman's permission, he proceeded to examine the mass. He assessed that there was a high likelihood of it being a tumor, but a biopsy should be scheduled to confirm the diagnosis and see whether it is cancerous or not.

You thank him and turn back to the lady. “You're free to go, ma'am. I'll schedule the biopsy and the hospital will call to let you know when it is.” You inform her as she leaves.

After she leaves the room, you tidy up and restore everything to its original state before attempting to turn toward the door when you feel a tug at your wrist.

“That's it?”

“Is what it? I thanked you for your assistance now I'm going to order the biopsy you mentioned. Did I do something wrong Dr. Wilson?”

“You realize we're alone right? You don't have to be so formal.” He replies, tone filled with something you couldn't put your finger on.

Before you had a chance to reply he continued, “Why haven't you been coming home?” This time you understood his tone, accusatory.

“I have been.”

“Oh that's right, you get home every day past midnight and leave before sunrise. So you're home about what? 4-5 hours?” He summarizes.

“What do you want me to say, James?” You sigh.

“I want you to talk to me! Talk to your husband. Let me in! Stop avoiding me Y/N!” He raises his hands in the air, exasperated.

“I'm not avoiding you, I've just been busy with work.” You reply, purposefully ignoring the first part of his statement.

“Believe me, we've all realized how much of a workaholic you are.” He rolled his eyes.

You both stayed silent for a moment before he spoke up, voice softer this time, “Honey I know losing the baby was hard but-”

You cut him off before he could finish the sentence. The sudden mention of your baby made you see red.

“Don't you dare mention my baby.” You spoke, voice sharper than a thousand knives.

“That was my baby too, Y/N! This loss has been difficult for me too!” He yelled back, making you flinch yet you didn't back down.

“Really? Because I don't recall you being there that appointment.” It was a low blow and you were aware of it. You didn't truly blame him but you were being put on the defensive and you were willing to say anything that would get him to drop the topic.

“That's not fair and you know it,” He shook his head in disbelief.

“What's not fair is that our child is gone, James. Gone.” You let out, voice shaking at the last word.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” He pulled you in and you let him, willingly giving into the embrace you'd missed so much. He held you with one arm while using the other hand to stroke up and down your back like he'd done many times before. The comforting touch, so familiar yet so longed for, enveloped you, evoking a profound sense of solace. In that fleeting moment, serenity washed over you, bringing a deep sense of peace, even if it was temporary.

“I don't deserve this.” You mumble into his chest.

He moves his hands to your shoulders, pushing you aside to get a better look at your face, “What do you mean?”

“I don't deserve your kindness. I killed our baby and here you are- comforting me.”

He looked at you dumbfounded. Like you had just said the most idiotic statement known to man. You were blaming yourself for this? He grabbed your chin, bringing your face up so you could look at him.

“Y/N, you know I never blamed you for any of this right?” He asked rhetorically. Knowing you wouldn't answer, he continued, “You didn't kill anyone. You're not responsible for what happened. It's not your fault. I need you to understand that.” He said firmly.

“I just feel so empty James, like a part of me is missing. A part that I'll never be able to get back- and I just don't know what to do with myself anymore.” You confess, eyes shutting in exhaustion.

He moves one hand to the back of your head, absentmindedly playing with your hair, soothing you while you speak.

“It feels like this emptiness is going to last forever and I'm not sure how I'm going to deal with that Jamie.”

Oh, how he had missed hearing that nickname leaving your lips. It made him feel at home.

Perhaps things were slowly getting better.

“It's going to take time, but we’ll get through it Y/N. I promise. Let's just take it one day at a time, alright?”

You nodded, lips slightly quirking up.

“I'm sorry for pushing you away and avoiding you for two weeks.” You look down, embarrassed. “I also apologize for not being there for you. I know you've been dealing with this too and it wasn't right of me to abandon you in a time of need where I should've been by your side instead.”

“That’s okay,” he says drawing you in closer once more, wrapping his arms around you making you sway back and forth. “Just promise me that you'll come home with me tonight, so we can enjoy a nice and relaxing bath together.” He adds.

“Oh, I definitely promise that.” You reply, smirking at him before adding, “I love you.”

“And I love you, angel.”

[stevie-petey]

I have a blurb idea!

A stug sleepover that wasn't set up by Dustin. Lets say Steve's parents are having a dinner party and instead of being degraded in front of his parents'friends he decides to leave and go to bugs house. He crawls up onto her roof and knocks on her window. She opens her curtains and when she sees Steve she just lights up! She scrambles to open the window and let him in. Steve's heart is so warmed because not only is bug elated to see him, but she's in her pajamas and Steve just thinks she looks perfect😭. Remember in the jealous Steve blurb how he said he wishes that one day he could come over and know he's going home, he's finally getting to feel it!!! Maybe bug even lets Steve lay in her bed BUT only for a little while soon he is demoted back to the bean bag. Still it was nice while it lasted.

steve vs windows ,,, he will never win. this isnt exaaaactly the prompt, but i kept the pjs and coming home <3

enjoy !

"im coming over."

"oh, alright." while you hadnt been upset by steves sudden insistence on coming over, the lack of warning had surprised you. normally he'll ask ahead of time, make a plan, but at almost ten at night he had called you saying he was coming over. "drive safe, please."

"always, angel."

that had been nearly fifteen minutes ago.

normally steve is at you house in under ten minutes, so his slight delay worries you. standing at your window, you wait anxiously for any sign of him. your view of where he normally parks is blocked by a house, so all you can do is stare out at the yard in front of you.

thats when you hear the thud, which is followed by a very pathetic "ow."

"hello?' you call out beneath you, squinting against the darkness of the night. you cant see anything, but you know you heard something.

"down here," someone says weakly, and you recognize the voice to be steves.

squinting even harder, you make out the faint outline of his body sprawled on the grass beneath your window. "oh my god." you start trying to climb out your window to go and help, but steve sees and stops you.

"dont come down," hes out of breath, pain still piercing his body.

"but-"

"im fine, just need to-" steve winces as he stands, his shoulder pops and his knees buckle. "god tonight sucks."

he stands before you now, a foot or so beneath you. for once, youre taller than steve, and you enjoy looking down at him. his eyes are almost black in the dim lighting, though the moon casts a soft glow on his tanned skin. summer has made him beautiful.

you reach your hand out and gently fix his hair. "what happened, honey?"

steves heart warms at the touch, he leans into it and closes his eyes. pain be damned, your fingers tug at his hair and steves heart skips a beat. "missed the jump."

"well, obviously."

"it hurt."

"you poor thing."

"can i come in now?"

you giggle and nod, stepping aside so that steve can climb the ledge and into your room. his arms strain, the outline of his biceps can be seen in the night. hes always been so delicate with how he climbs through the window, far from jonathans clunkiness that always alerted your mom of his arrival.

as you watch steve, you sit on your bed and make room for him to join. you havent forgotten about his unexpected call earlier. "is everything okay?"

"what do you mean?" steve takes his shoes off and places them against your wall. he undoes the first three buttons of his shirt, getting comfortable, before he slides into bed next to you with a tired sigh.

you wrap your arms around him, resting your head over his heart like you always do. "you never just randomly show up."

"i called."

"right before leaving."

"same thing."

"steve." you chastise him, place some annoyance in your voice. hes dodging.

steve sighs, knowing hes been caught. "my parents... theyre having some stupid dinner party tonight. needed to get away. they kept asking me about college and why i was still living at home. one women clutched her goddamn pearls."

"im sorry, honey." you hate that so much is expected of him, more than you know is fair. steve has his own job, he takes care of all the kids, he does the best he can with what hes given, and it infuriates you that his father refuses to see that.

"its whatever. figured id come here instead, see my girl."

my girl.

youre steves girl, and he came to you tonight.

"cute pajamas, by the way." steve adds absentmindedly. his fingers pluck at your spider-man shirt. its old and worn, the material thin now from years of use. "spidey looks good on you."

you blush at his words, innate reaction to being so loved by steve harrington, but you know hes also purposely changing he topic. he doesnt want to talk about what happened tonight. hes already opened up to you more than hes wanted to, so you go along with it.

"he does, doesnt he?" you hum, kissing steves ear. he hums at the sensation, arms tightening around you. hes relived youve seen through his ruse, though that doesnt stop you from reminding him of where he belongs. "welcome home, honey."

steves breath catches. his arms tighten even more. a wave of emotions wash over him. love, belonging, sanctity.

"you cant sleep in my bed, though." you break the silence, knowing steve has gotten lost in his thoughts. you want him to laugh, to see him smile. "the bean bag gets lonely at night."

it works. steve chuckles, kisses the tip of your nose. "well, we cant have that, now can we?"

[shotmrmiller]

cbf!Price?!?!

You mean your older brother's even older friend?

You'd been born in the US to an American mom and a British dad; but his job moved you all back across the pond. New country, new school, new people--it had been hell for you and your brother. But the family next door were so welcoming, especially their only kid, John.

Who always called you 'sunshine', gave you piggyback rides at rugby matches so you didn't get lost in the crowd, and never said "Hello" but, "There's my favorite girl".

The same cbf!Price who was your scary dog privilege when you fell in love with the underground punk scene and wanted to go to the sketchiest concerts.

When he'd enlisted, you'd cried for days, but couldn't bring yourself to tell him why you were so heartbroken, no matter how many times he asked, brows furrowed with concern. "Its only a couple months, luv, then I'll be on post just down the road. We'll still have our weekends."

And he kept that promise, as much as he could, even after you moved out of your parent's home to attend university.

It was forever on the tip of your tongue; the words you so desperately wanted to say, had to bite back, otherwise they'd destroy that precious friendship....

.... I can only imagine the myriad of unfortunate ways he might accidentally hear you whispering his name and those words....

with my brash personality, im fucking him the day he's to leave for basic. js.

no regrets around here.

--

ohmygod! imagine him being captain now, and he brings you to meet the boys.

Johnny whistles low the moment he lays eyes on you. "Steamin' Jesus, Captain. Tha' yer friend? She single?"

John does not answer him.

Kyle is kind, sweet, and courteous. Suspiciously so. It gives John flashbacks of how he acts towards women he wants to bed.

Right.

Simon's just his big, quiet self. He's intimidating, but you're not afraid—after all, you grew up with your bully older brother and John.

John notices his eyes gleam when you talk at him, yes, at, because Simon doesn't respond. But he listens. And he's been listening a little too intently, staring at your dainty hands gesture animatedly.

That's enough, he thinks.

"Time t'go home, love." You pout but wave goodbye at the boys and head towards his vehicle.

Johnny opens his mouth to speak but John quickly intervenes, that unless he wants to start fucking pushing, keep his thoughts to himself.

"I'll see you all at base tomorrow."

On the ride home, you tell him that they were all very nice. John's grip on the steering wheel tightens and says that as nice as they are, they go through women more than they do magazines.

"Oh." Did he imagine the disappointment laced in your voice?

"Do you?" What?

"I don't do it often."

"Oh." He turns his head to look at you, but you're staring out the window.

His heart races and elation thrums through his veins. You definitely sounded upset. John looks straight ahead and speeds up to take you home.

His home.

There's only you for him, and if you won't take the first step, then he will.

--

side note: what if he didn't return those feelings? christ id eat my fucking phone. im running away!!! no one look at me how embarrassing!!! his eyes soften, and he's like, "Oh. I'm so sorry, love. You and I practically grew up together."

That really stings. And then he brings his little girlfriend over to meet you and your brother, and you stiffly shake her hand and go to your room to cry.

Someone softly knocks on your door, and you don't move to open it, just yell at whoever is at the door to fuck off in a warbly voice. John's muffled I'm sorry deepens the crack in your heart.

"'S'alright, John. I'll be okay."

You did this to yourself, anyway.

The marriage invitation comes in the mail and you tear it to pieces.

Since you were young, you dreamt of being Mrs. Price, but now, that's all it'll ever be.

A childish dream.

[rustytrident]

i think the hc that occupies my brain the most is the "demonic nature is kinda like human world animals' instincts" so here is the breakdown no one asked for: why i believe demons are much less scary after you actually get to know them!

so, in case it hasn't been evident in my three posts and some lint i have about obey me on here (sarcasm) i am obsessed with the idea that even the most powerful of demons aren't able to resist their demonic urges. like their brain kind of blacks out?? and they do whatever tf either demon brain or sin brain (or both) tells them to do.

lucifer checks himself out on every. single. reflective. surface. fixing his collar, combing his hair, straightening his sleeves – he absolutely hates when he realises he does it but demon brain goes "oohhh!!! it's me im here!!" and sin brain goes "ihavetolookmybestatalltimespleasetellmeilookgood". every time he catches himself with his hand midway through his hair he sighs and tries to go on with his day (one time satan and belphie pranked him by putting mirrors everywhere) (they didn't know lucifer has memorised the layout of the hol and can walk anywhere with his eyes closed).

mammon is that one kid that touches anything shiny and sparkly. you could be wearing highlighter and just feel a poke on your cheek. turn around. it's your demon boy. his pupils are dilated. finger still on your face. half a toof fang sticking out of his mouth. fucking elated. glittery shiny sparkly holographic things are his demon brain cocomelon. sin brain just hoards any and all glittery shiny sparkly holographic things he can find. whenever he's upset he watches those slime or chalk asmr videos but they have to be the ones where the creators use a whole bag of glitter (or! or! the ones where people flick brushes full of glitter above their cameras in slow motion yknow the ones).

leviathan has to be quirky different not like other girls. he has to be the one with the most marine knowledge in the family, the one with the most ruri knowledge in the family – you get the point. i believe he has a touch of the demon tism so if you think you know anything about his special interests no you don't. he was actually there when it happened so joke's on you. yes he did witness the creation of the first amoeba now move. he's also that younger sibling that sees you get praise for doing something and does the exact same thing to get praise too. sin brain goes "if they get that then i have to have it". you see him wearing your clothes sometimes and when you think back you remember you got a compliment on it about a week ago (week agoo 🕺💃) and like yeah. makes sense (pls tell him he's pretty pls).

satan has chewy toys and wears a retainer pretty frequently because that wrath may be chronic but them teeth won't stay there for long if he keeps baring them!! he buys new ones once a month because he absolutely tears through them and everyone is just used to him popping in his acrylic retainer every time lucifer comes in the room. he isn't even half ashamed of his toys because trust me it's not a cute sight. this man is one of the most imposing beings you have ever encountered creating holes with his teeth in places you believe there weren't any before through what you're guessing used to be something green and made of rubber, but you aren't too sure. you ask him what's wrong and he just stares at you blankly and goes "nothing? why would anything be?". it's just a casual case of both demon and sin brain going "AUURGHHHDHS *chomp*". absolutely feral unicorn man with the straightest teeth you've ever seen.

asmodeus is in the same predicament as lucifer when it comes to checking himself out but instead he embraces the moment. and checks other people out too, as long as what they're wearing catches his attention. he's a very touchy demon so you can find him absentmindedly having his hands on you without even realising he does it: twirling a strand of your hair, playing with your fingers, tracing your jawline. it's just that demon brain goes "ohoho!! my humnan look at my humin go!!" and can't not touch you after that. he also bites. you think it would be mammon or beel but nope it's asmo!! you're just too pretty and he wants to feel close to you!! don't bring it up though he gets embarrassed. you know that meme where person a says "i wonder what i taste like" and person b says "i can help with that" and a imagines a kiss and b imagines biting person a? yeah, inside asmo are two wolves.

beelzebub is the randomest fucking demon in that household idc. he's always so quiet and you never know what he's thinking until one day he brings home a human world ostrich like it's nothing and gives it a "tour of its new home"??? absolutely insane. he also buzzes randomly?? like you'll be hanging out in the common room and all of a sudden you hear "bbzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz" only for another brother to go "beel. i can't concentrate on my book. please refrain from buzzing inside the house"??? hello??? i think he's got a passion for cleaning too (thousands of years of food and blood stains, crumbs and mould have taught him a couple things) so he is always ready to assist in cleaning his brother's rooms and won't stop until they look brand new. his most demon brain moment is when he lifts things. doesn't matter what or how heavy it is, if he sees something new around him he has to give it a little lift. same thing with the people he's fond of. you have been grabbed by the armpits one too many times to have an impromptu simba moment for three seconds, only for beel to just go on with his day, no explanation. what a demon *sighs dreamily*.

belphegor is the most like his familiars (or at least his habits are most prominent). you see the demon chewing and chewing and chewing like one bite of food and if you dare look at him weird he gives you the cow stare (pls tell me you know what im talking about). you see him in full demon form running headfirst into a wall with his horns (#satan_and_belphie_bonding_activity) and if you dare look at him weird he gives you the cow stare. kinda like his twin, he does random moo or hffphhhmp noises according to his mood without realising ("no belphegor, you can not destroy every wall in this house with your horns" "moOOO"). demon brain goes brrrr with some human world grass and some sunshine. like he absolutely loves being in that mediterranean countryside, twirling some grass between his fingers, eating it, living his life. best brother to go on a picnic with hands down.

fucking dorks *heart eyes*

[cosmal]

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 — 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤

day five of my christmas drabble advent calendar

summary — sirius is your secret santa.

warnings/tags — fem!reader, she/her

note — i literally know nothing about walkmans im sorry.

Sirius, in a best-friend-only sort of way, spends an entire week looking for your secret santa gift.

Not because he has zero clue about what to get — after the stars had aligned and he pulled your name from Remus’s beanie, his mind has been plagued with ideas about gifts for you.

There’s one gift he’s set on. He has been since you mentioned you wanted it a month ago. It was a quick, but in depth conversation. But he remembered.

He remembers you sitting upside down on his bed, rambling about some special edition walkman that had just been released. How it’s really pretty, it has gold trimming around the edge, it’s battery life is longer, something about the audio that Sirius couldn’t understand, and that you’d never have enough money to buy it.

You hadn’t really rambled, you’d spoken about it like you desperately needed it and Sirius had sat there and taken in every word you’d said like it was gospel. That’s how it usually is. You speak, Sirius listens like the lovesick best friend that he is.

Now, sat in a circle with his friends, Sirius feels like he could throw up. Lily, the lovely friend that she is, has dealt out everyone’s presents and it’s about to be your turn. He hasn’t even looked at the red box in his lap. He would, if he could take his eyes off of you.

After James stops beaming about the gift that Remus had bought him (you all know that you’re not supposed to say who bought what, but half of you can’t keep your mouths shut) it’s your turn to open yours.

Everyone has their eyes on you. He can tell you’re hating it, you keep touching your hot cheeks and you’re rambling some stupid joke about the wrapping job. He thinks it’s well deserved, Sirius wrapped and re-wrapped that present ten times over.

“Godric, Y/N, just rip it!” James groans, ever the impatient one.

“The paper’s too pretty,” you explain, doing your best at keeping it intact.

It is pretty. Sirius had also spent a stupid amount of time picking it out.

Once you finally get it open, and you can actually see the label, Sirius doesn’t think he’s ever seen your face look so bright. You look down at the present, then up at him, back at the present. You get up from your spot and Sirius thinks you might be upset.

You walk towards him, then in his nervous mind, he thinks you might hit him for whatever reason. Instead, you tackle him into the couch. Arms wrapped around his neck, knees pressed into his thighs. Sirius laughs madly.

“Thank you,” you murmur into his hair. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You sound like you might cry. He would hate that. Or love it. He’s really proud of himself for not fucking up.

Sirius let’s himself bathe in your affection. He selfishly lets his hands rub up and down the length of your back. “It’s okay,” he says, all quiet and entirely too dazed.

You pull back and Sirius misses the heat of your mouth against his neck. The sound of your little excited gasp. You look so happy but also like you’re trying to hold it back. He feels the exact same way but for a completely different reason.

You let yourself climb off of him, apologising if you hurt him in your elated tackle.

“You didn’t,” he smiles. Then, because he’s dizzy off of your happiness, he lets himself say, “I quite liked it actually.” You smile into the back of your hand.

He’s too pleased when you don’t go back to your spot and decide to settle down next to him. The heat of your thigh against his is maddening, the urge to let his hand fall on top of it is worse.

Everyone falls back into chatter, watching Remus unwrap his present next. You can’t keep your eyes off the present in your lap. Sirius can’t keep his eyes off of you.

Once everyone has opened their presents and it’s just the two of you left in the loungeroom, Sirius sits and watches you fiddle with the walkman. After it had taken you ten minutes to actually want to open it up. You’d sat there and read the box over and over, smiling so hard Sirius had to bite his lip.

“Pass me the tape?” you ask, opening the player up. Clicking and pressing buttons.

He hands you the cassette, a well worn one that you’ve listened to more times than your own voice, and you slide it into place, snapping it shut.

You fiddle with the ear buds and hand him the left one with a small smile, “We should share the first song.”

Sirius takes it and places it in his ear. You let your head fall against his shoulder as the first track starts to play. Your head is a grounding weight he needs to feel. He feels like he’s floating.

After the song finishes, he asks, “How’d you know it was me?”

Before the track can change, you reply, “Because no one listens to me like you do.”

It’s half true. He knows your friends listen to everything you say. He also knows that he can recite every minute detail about you if given the chance. He knows you better than he knows himself. He’s more than okay with that.

“Right,” he smiles. He likes knowing that you think that too.

“Thank you, Sirius. Really,” you say. The song is loud in his ear but he has no troubles drowning it out to listen to you.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.”

You turn you head so your mouth his pressed into his shoulder and you kiss him there gently. Over the cotton of his t-shirt.

He thinks it could be the start of something more. If he’s lucky.

[writtenicarus]

AFTG Headcanon Series [2] Neil

part 1, part 2, part 3

So we all know that Neil and Mary would sleep with their backs to one another, right? Well from this I like to interpret as one of the main ways Neil likes to feel safe is by being held

Not because Mary held Neil, because she didn't, but because he was always so close to her every night and after years of pain not once did she turn to face him and hold him, and now he was in a safe environment, he ached to be held

Of course, when Andrew finds out about this, he is more than happy to hold him when he can and feels comfortable to do so

Neil doesn't share Andrew's love for ice cream. However, it's Kevin who introduced him to the world of sorbet. His favourite is raspberry.

Neil likes to play with fashion. Growing up clothes never had any gender, they wore what they found. Imagine Neil in neon tops and long, flowy skirts

HE LOVES TEA. HE CHANNELS HIS INNER BRITISH GENES OKAY? STUART SENDS HIM BOXES OF YORKSHIRE TEABAGS (im projecting again my bad)

Him and Allison go on weekly lunch dates every Saturday to catch up and gossip with one another, at first Neil is reluctant but he eventually loves them

Kevin comes to him whenever he's feeling anxious or upset

Has a really strong relationship with Jean after the Nest, they often call and text each other and love seeing each other at games, banquets etc

I'm sorry but I have always seen his hair as GINGER as in ORANGE not Auburn, he has ORANGE HAIR YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND ITS JUST BRIGHT AND COLOURFUL LIKE HIS EYES

Cannot drink any form of soda/fizzy drinks or juice unless it's HEAVILY DILUTED. He actually recoils and squints. He hates it.

Uses he/him pronouns but doesn't really know what's going on with his gender. He only started thinking about it when he discovered people can identify however they want to. But when he's asked what people should refer to him as, he just says he doesn't care (he would prefer if you didn't refer to him at all)

You may think Neil is the one doing all the rambling? You're wrong. Apart from exy, Neil is a listener. He grew up being quiet all the time and sometimes going days without uttering a word. It's Andrew who rambles to him about his day, his hobbies, a bird he saw on the way home etc. Neil smiles, nods, and tries to remember every word

Ends up having loads of fidgets and little things to play with on a lanyard he uses in class because he just has to be doing something. Whenever he's in an open environment he has to be moving constantly

Jumps when the toaster goes off every fucking time lmao

Does maths for fun?! What a weirdo but he definitely likes how organised and calm writing out all the steps makes him feel

Can do that weird thing where you make your tongue into like a flower shape

Wherever he is his laptop is not far behind. That kid always has it on him and is almost always using it for something whether it be studying or watching exy reruns

Gets lots of piercings!! It's how he starts reclaiming his body whilst also playing it safe with the FBI

Had the softest most beautiful most gorgeous most oh my god did you hear that? Laugh ever.

I'm telling you his laugh is just genuinely so elating that it makes everyone around him feel at ease

Just generally the type of person you can be around and never feel uncomfortable, Neil always likes to make sure people feel safe around him. Not that he tries really hard to find out what people do and don't like, but he's so calm and passive he never does anything to push anyone anyways

ABSOLUTE BADASS some of the things he mutters under his breath are so fucking funny it's shocking sometimes

Overall, just an amazing human.

But he could kill you. Remember that.

[cloudcountry]

Auburnnnnn hiiii <3

Saw reqs open and decided to haul ass and annoy you

Can i ask for like, Riddle x GN!Reader (or Male if possible bc i wanna imagine my yuu lmao) as a Detective duo?

Thanks <33333

SUMMARY: Riddle and a Male!Reader search for the missing tart.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: you're not annoying me raptor >:((( AND OMG A MALE READER REQUEST IM SO EXCITED WHEN I GET THESE

When Riddle shows up at Ramshackle’s front door right after classes have ended for the day, you’re surprised to see him. Grim nearly causes you to fall on your ass when he bolts away from Riddle, the experience of being collared likely fresh in his mind.

“I hope you don’t mind me intruding, I know you’re a very busy student.” Riddle huffs, looking more upset than usual, “But someone stole one of Heartslabyul’s tarts. I’m sure you understand the importance of such a dish. We simply can’t proceed without it.”

You hum thoughtfully, pretending to contemplate his request. “Well, if you need detective work done I’m your guy.” you grin, “But I’m not doing it for free. A tart for a tart, Housewarden.” You take delight in watching his face burn red.

Riddle does agree, hissing something about how fair is fair and that he’s certain Trey could handle making another tart. Grim cheers at the prospect of sweet treats, and you scratch behind his ear before you follow Riddle out and to Heartslabyul.

You work your way around your main suspects, but all of them seem to have alibis. Trey makes a comment about how it’s really not a big deal, and before you can shut him down for the sake of your tart, Riddle does.

“He agreed to help bring the perpetrator to justice. His service is essential.” Riddle says, and that successfully stops any more opposition.

You look over the list of information you collected, all the alibis of “I was tending to the hedgehogs,” “I was super focused on my new hairstyle!! I didn’t have the time to steal the tart,” “I was with the flamingos with Heartslabyul Student F,” “I was helping the Vice Housewarden in the kitchen,” “I was helping Cater pick out a new hairstyle for the Unbirthday Party tomorrow—” Wait.

“Riddle, I know who did it.” you positively beam, elated that your detective work has led you somewhere, “Can you do me one last favor and get this student for me?”

Riddle always bursts into a flurry of rage when he sees the alibi you’ve singled out, and it doesn’t take any more convincing for him to drag over none other than Ace Trappola.

“Hey, what gives man?” Ace huffs, shooting you an irritated look. You click your tongue and show him your notepad, pointing to his alibi.

“You were helping Cater with his hair, correct?” you ask, lifting a single brow in inquiry.

Ace nods, clearly confused as to where you’re going with this. Riddle, to his credit, listens and waits for you to spell it out.

“I’ve helped Cater with his hair before. He spends thirty minutes blow drying, most of the time with his eyes closed and humming along to the music he blasts. Then, he brushes it out, which takes another five minutes. You would have had to sit through thirty five minutes of Cater paying attention to nothing but his hair. After you chose his hairstyle, you only had to be back in time for him to pick out accessories. Not only that, you’re a notorious troublemaker that has a knack for slipping out of place you’re supposed to be, like Orientation. And lastly, you’ve taken and eaten a tart before, so you have a track record for this sort of thing.” you ruffle his hair, an affectionate gesture to help soften the blow of his punishment, “Case closed, man. Sorry.”

“Ace?!” Riddle yells, face red as steam practically pours out of his ears.

You can only thank Riddle for the tart you’re about to get as Ace is collared. Totally worth it.

[poeticlilies]

Hello hello hello, young lady. (iCoNiC Dazai smile.)

Well I like the way you write so may i ask for a fluff between reader and chuu ?

thx ~~

♡ Welcome Home

Nakahara Chuuya x Reader

Desc: Days off with Chuuya. (gender neutral reader)

TW/CW: none!

Chuuya Nakahara was a workaholic.

Everyone in the Port Mafia knew; Mori, Akutagawa, the Black Lizard; hell, even his own subordinates would even sometimes cautiously suggest a break.

Which is why, on one Friday night, Mori called him to his office and informed him he had a.. "mandatory" day off. He had wildly protested, arguing that he could work, but Mori simply dismissed him and he stormed off, upset and a little fearful that he had lost his purpose.

The dark train of thoughts that was going to follow him home, however, vanished when you popped into his mind. The image of your surprised- yet giddy- expression when he comes home early and informs you that he had a day off caused butterflies to erupt in his abdomen; he smiled softly as he boarded his bike, pausing to consider wearing a helmet but ultimately dismissing it.

After a while, he pulls up to the apartment complex; haphazardly parking his bike before jumping off, a bounce in his step as he makes his way through the garden and into the Port-Mafia-issued building. He passes Akutagawa on his way to the elevator, who shoots him an incredulous look, surprised he was headed home so early. He grins back, elated, thinking of ways to spend his free day with you.

He doesn't remember stepping into the elevator and arriving at the floor your shared apartment is on; only the way his thoughts were full of you, swarming around in a frenzy at the prospect that he gets to finally spend a full day with you again at the end of this hectic season.

Unlocking the door quietly, he silently steps through the doorway; heart pounding at the soft melody you hum while you flutter around the kitchen, presumably preparing tonight's dinner.

Quietly, he slips off his shoes and his coat; placing them in their rightful places before slinking into the kitchen, pure adrenaline flooding his veins as he basks in the moment, watching you wander around with your back turned.

He sees you pause, for a moment, when he exhales a bit too loudly; head turning towards the doorway as one of your hands reach for a knife. Defeated, Chuuya grins, stepping out of his "hiding place."

"I'm home, darling." he whispers, feeling his heart jump at your happy gasp.

"Chuuya!" you squeal, rushing over and tackling him in a hug. "When did you get home? Why didn't you tell me? Is everything okay? Do you want dinner now?"

"Woah, woah!" he yelps, hands on your waist as he catches you and spins you around. "Calm down, honey, Mori just gave me the day off. Said I've been working hard enough, that I deserved a day to rest." he hums, taking off his hat and placing it on your head, purposefully tilting it down to cover your eyes.

You sigh in fake annoyance, fixing the hat before grabbing his face in your hands and pressing a kiss to his lips. He stutters, flushing red, before pinning you against the counter and kissing back. He swears up and down his heart skipped a beat at your little squeak of surprise; grinning against your lips as he basks in the moment.

"I missed this. I missed you." he admits quietly, cradling your body against his. "I missed you so fuckin' much, baby."

You hum in acknowledgement, tenderly kissing his cheek. "I know, dear. I missed you too."

Chuuya swears up and down he feels like his heart is trying to dislocate itself out of his chest; he buries his face into your neck, limbs going slack as he allows himself to be enveloped by your warmth and your comfort. You giggle, kissing his forehead tenderly as you run your hands up and down his back.

"I'm here, baby." you whisper quietly. "I'm right here."

And Nakahara Chuuya swears he has never heard of anything quite this good.

--

lord. i didnt know what to say. im sorry i took so long i just stared at this and tried to end it but like??? man?? how does one

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

hey ari. im guessing that rancid anon probably ruined your night a bit (or whatever time it is for you) but i just wanna offer a bit of comfort.

i often have shit days and nights and your writing really makes a difference. whenever i feel like my intelligence is being indulted or those sround me dont really value me your odd duck brings happy tears to my face. i dream i can find someone as understanding as the bruce that you write.

your secret reader warms my very sole. when, again, i feel like those around me would want me to leave and not return, having someone that chooses to be there because of it all is something i dont have the luxury of, but your jason gives me a glimpse of that.

i know first hand how your skills at doing something you love can feel so disheartening and soul wrenching. your writing is whats gotten me through so much shit this past year and however many months ive been following you for.

obviously i dont know you, we are not friends, but i truly wish the best for you and feel elated when good things happen (that new job after expressing how awful the previous one made you feel? yeah, it gave me some encouragement as well). you've truly made a difference in my life with your writing, no matter how small you may think it is.

thank you for everything ari, and please excuse any mistakes. im on mobile and a bit emotional

I appreciate you anon, and I'm glad you're here. 💜 I'm glad that I can help. Thank you so much. Ì never really can articulate how much messages like this mean to me

They didn't ruin my night. It was just... really disgusting to say they were glad my dad died. But. I'm okay. It's hard to take people like them seriously because they'd never have the guys to say that to my face. Or even off anon. They want to see me ruffled and upset and I'm not. I'm mostly concerned for their mental wellbeing.

[theravenkin]

been thinking a lot about low-empathy adam parrish (via @parrishwife here and @crimeronan here ) and i'd like to add that i also think ronan is low-empathy, but in a different way, and that this difference is what causes most of the conflict between them (in this essay i will-)

so basically, in very simple psychological terms there are two main sides to empathy. on one side, you've got cognitive empathy- the ability to see things from another person's perspective in an objective manner and understand why they might be feeling a certain way even if you don't feel "for" them; however, you might think that they are overreacting. then there's emotional empathy, which is when you see someone having strong emotions or going through something tough and you feel "for" them, sometimes literally; you might feel nausea or pains in your chest from experiencing someone else in emotional pain, or you might feel elated when someone else is happy or excited. that doesn't necessarily mean, though, that you can see things from that person's perspective; even if you feel for someone, you might not think that they're coming from a place that matters because you can't put yourself in their position. when both of these main types of empathy are present, then you can also have compassionate empathy, which is like both working together- you feel for someone and can see things from their perspective. people with low empathy may struggle with both of the main types of empathy, but some may only struggle with one while maybe being hyper-empathetic in the other type; i'm pretty sure the latter is common among autistic people. i, for one, have very strong emotionally empathetic reactions to things, but i have a really hard time seeing things from others perspectives; so while i may feel really bad for someone, it can be hard for me to understand why they feel bad in the first place.

okay. now. blorbo thoughts.

i think that while adam has an easier time with cognitive empathy (though still struggles with it a bit), he has not developed a very strong sense of emotional empathy at all. whereas, on the other hand, i think ronan is hyperempathic when it comes to pure emotions, but has a very very hard time with cognitive empathy; the way he thinks tends to be more egocentric, meaning it's hard for him to remember that other people don't always think, feel, or process the same way he does (this is what i struggle with, personally, but i think ronan struggles a whole lot more with it).

i could go pulling a bunch of textual evidence, and god do i want to, but lord i ain't got the time. so im just gonna point out a couple things ronan does: he often hugs and comforts people when he feels that they're upset (and he often notices when people are upset before others do, when they're trying to hide it etc) but he doesn't care if these people want to be hugged- he just does it. the only person he doesn't do this with is adam, i think because adam is one person ronan works really hard to understand. ronan also tends to say things without thinking or caring about how they might make people feel, but he still feels so strongly himself (re: bronan "i'm not proud of it" "i'll be proud for you", ronan, read the room). he feels for every dreamer, even those he hasn't met yet, and that empathy drives him so crazy he goes and does a bunch of questionable things in order to try to make things better for people. but he cannot imagine any justification for why adam didn't text him back within a couple hours other than that adam now hated him suddenly (essentially, can't understand how adam doesn't know what ronan is thinking without communicating it).

ronan's inner monologue is very frequently about himself and how he's feeling; when he talks about others, he describes what they say and do and look like, but can't seem to explain how they think or why. adam, in comparison, is constantly psychoanalyzing the people around him, trying to understand why they do what they do and how they tick. part of this is his analytic nature and part of it is the remnants of a survival tactic- the need to understand his abuser, get inside their head, in order to avoid or prevent the next blow. but i think, too, all this analyzing has divorced him from feeling strongly for others, once again, as a survival tactic/coping mechanism- because he believes that as soon as he feels for someone, he becomes them and loses his autonomy. this is only beneficial when dealing with abusers, though. so when he's dealing with his loved ones, adam has to parse through their actions, codify their behaviors and what they mean, and establish heuristics of how they think in order for him to not cross a line and hurt them without meaning to. i feel like i can say more on this but it's late and im tired and i am no psychologist, just autistic and insane about characters

so i think that this difference is a lot of what makes pynch work (the impulse/impulse control dynamic or the right brain/left brain dynamic, but much much deeper and more complex obvs). but i also think that this is where most of their conflict comes from. ronan feels so deeply for and about adam, so much so that he doesn't know how to process it and it eats him alive. but even still, he can't quite understand why adam works the way he does, why his motivations are what they are, why he holds the values he does; usually, ronan just accepts that adam is adam and life goes on, but sometimes ronan gets so frustrated that he can't just accept that adam does things that- to ronan- make 0 sense. (think of the garage fight scene, just before the hand lotion, where ronan tells adam he should just quit school- a pretty tone deaf thing to say, knowing adam, but ronan was getting frustrated and couldn't understand why adam needed to keep working himself to death.) then there's adam, who typically understands where ronan is coming from, but doesn't understand why ronan feels so strongly about things, especially other people- especially him. he struggles to understand why ronan keeps helping him despite being told not to- which is why ronan does things without asking (ie, the rent), because he knows adam won't understand. adam may understand where ronan is coming from, but sometimes he just may not care. he doesn't want ronan to feel badly, but it's hard to motivate yourself to do something about it when you can't understand what the fuss is all about. think about the fight over the green mantle envelope: to adam, it's practical and logical, and he doesn't understand why the whole thing is upsetting to ronan or why he should care- if it gets the job done, doesn't matter how unpleasant the process is. ronan, however, doesn't care as much about practical; he can't understand why adam thinks this is okay, because he has such a hard time understanding that others have different values and priorities than he does.

anyway. this took so long to write. someone please read it and understand what i'm saying.

[theerurishipper]

I hate how im not even angry at how Kwamis choice ruined the Ladynoir ending from Hack-San. That little conversation was already bothering me in s4 bc Hack-San was brutally open with how little Marinette ever conciders Cat Noir in anything.

Beats me why she thought he wouldn't have the logical reaction of fcking RED ALERT when he suddenly sees Ladybug's earrings in possession of somebody else, but hey, Marinette told Alya to play with her pet so that makes up for it I guess? And "pet" I find extremely fitting in that episode's context. She literally send in another Ladybug miraculous holder who's lead Cat also had to follow with no saying in the matter. Marinette literally send him a new owner since the Ladybug can do with the Cat whatever she wants as Marinette herself perfectly demonstrates in her leadership and Adrien therefore had to learn in season 4. I don't know what kind of dignity Marinette was supposedly treating Cat Noir with because it definitely wasn't on screen.

Marinette not thinking a single second about Cat was so bad in Hack-San that in the end she was genuinely surprised that she had to talk to him. There had been no intention on her part to have a conversation, she truly thought she had taken care of everything that matters. And from her perspective that meant telling Alya to laugh at his jokes being the only thing she conciders of any importance (something Marinette herself barely does). Honestly, there is not more personhood to him than "Pet".

So no, her words in the Ladynoir end scene have always meant as little as it turned out in Kwamis choice where she immediately left after he rejected her one time in "Elation" and the she didn't even care if it was at least Scarabella again who Cat Noir would met next to find out the awful news.

I always felt so unbelievably bad for Adrien in the Hack-San ending because the episode went out of its way to show that it isn't Marinette who gets the "Their crush barely realizes they exist" treatment, it has always been Cat Noir.

It had to be ALYA to make Marinette even talk to Cat when she comes back and then the only thing Marinette acknowledges as a mistake is that he must have been (negatively) surprised by having met a different Ladybug holder and that she's sorry, if she were to have found out that way that he had revealed himself to someone else she would have been upset too.

Which... man, Ladybug's dialog in that scene is so surface level. Comparing the emotional depth of how Cat talks about what all this meant to him, with how much care he talks and that it was so bad that the thought of her not being there anymore one day hurt the most and that he doesn't think he could bare that...

And Ladybug is besides him and says "she would have sulked too".

The difference between what she means to him and what little he seemingly means to her is so bad that when Marinette says "I will never abandon you, Kitty" and Adrien immediately forgives her for everything as per usual, I look at Marinette and honestly want to ask if she even knows what the words she just said mean. Because the entire rest of the episode characterized her in a way where her line feels almost shallow.

What is Ladybug apologizing for not having warned him and saying "I will never abandon you Kitty" even worth when she was shocked that she had to talk to him at all?

Already back in season 4 I looked at Adrien's heart eyes after that and felt so bad for him bc very clearly this IS a bond be should be able to live without because she's spearing him barely any thoughts of actual significance in season 4.

So yeah, I can't say I'm angry about season 5 then having made that reality and destroyed the Hack-San ending with Kwamis choice. Marinette in part 1 once again proofs why it's even IMPORTANT that Ladybug isn't someone Cat should hold onto in his life and definitely needs to be able to bare possibly not seeing again. He rejected her ONE TIME and next morning she already tells Tikki to give her earrings to literally ANYONE before Plagg goes about his plan.

Already at that point the line "I will never abandon you Kitty" became worthless and she also would have caused yet ANOTHER Ladybug miraculous holder to met Cat Noir instead of Scarabella, when this time around the new Ladybug would have no information or connection to Marinette and was meant to stay for good.

I almost feel bad for saying it but also honestly not, Kwamis choice really reinforced how little Marinette actually learned in season 4. What little Ladybug "learned" in Hack-San was ripped to shreds in the same intensity as it already felt shallow in s4.

It's only thanks to Tikki that the same "new Ladybug" fiasko wouldnt have repeated itself for Cat just this time he would have been faced with every fear he had coming true, right after Elation where Cat admits that he isn't in love with her anymore and asks if she's okay with him only loving her as a friend.

She said yes. And then she left.

As much as I want to be harsh on Adrien's side of Kwamis choice too, I cannot hold it against him that he left to just finally be able to find happiness (and that being Plagg's motivation too for starting all this), especially not when him having stayed would have only resulted in him having to go through Hack-San 2.0 only in WORSE because once again Marinette barely spared Cat any thoughts besides this time him not wanting to date her anymore making her sad.

Hack-san is one of those other episodes in Season 4 in which I was rather defensive of Marinette in the beginning. Like yeah, she is in the wrong and she should apologize, but I understand that it's an honest mistake, you know? She isn't the best at considering how others might feel about situations, and it's understandable that it didn't cross her mind to talk to Chat Noir. She did do it after Alya mentioned it and she took responsibility for her screw-up, and I was fine with it. That scene from Hack-san on its own is still one of my personal favorite Ladynoir scenes.

But that's just it. The scene itself when seen individually is so soft and sweet, but putting it into the context of the whole season, it's not a good look. Marinette says she'll never abandon Chat Noir, and spends the rest of the season pretty much replacing him with Rena Furtive and overall just pushing him away. It just makes her come off as hypocritical and dishonest. She continues to never consider him and his feelings and things just continue to get worse. The way the Ladynoir conflict was handled retroactively makes the scene in Hack-san worse.

And honestly, I don't feel like defending Marinette for what she did anymore, because she didn't really fix her mistake. She just doubled down and continued to do the same thing, and her assurances that she never really backed up really seem shallow in hindsight. She never learns anything, he takes all the blame for it in the end, and they just carry on without her having to fix her mistake. It's just so bad.

Thank you for your ask!