#they liked one of my posts and I'm a little disappointed bc there a little antisemitic and I'm jewish so this is cray cray

[vimbry]

"likes don't do anything" they do

"there's no algorithm" there is

"well nobody uses the for you tab" I do

"reblog all art and fics you see" there's no thought put into that. if this does work on people, then it's just pity engagement borne out of guilt rather than genuine interest, which is arguably worse than having none, because it's totally hollow.

[pasta-pardner]

GRHAAAAHAHRHAHHAAAA!

+ bonus inktober WIP pic below the cut

[soldier--poet--queen]

what came first, the body dysphoria flare up or the internet deciding now was a fantastsic time to show me transmasc content

[jewishcissiekj]

So many Ahsoka spoilers around here. It's like no one cares I promised my little sister I'd watch it with her and we've been with our family in the city all day.

[buckymorelikefuckme]

and baby makes three

(the reboot)

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 11.3k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, pining, smut, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cockwarming (kind of??), trigger warning for having troubles with getting pregnant. it's still super fuckin soft despite all of that though, i swear.

a/n: okay so it's currently 6am as i'm typing this and i haven't been to sleep yet bc i decided to just heavily edit this instead of rewrite it bc i'm lazy i guess idk. this was posted originally back in 2021 i believe and it's still on ao3 it's just orphaned rip. i promise i'll be writing and posting new stuff soon ok pls have faith in me and cheer me on bc it's hard and scary and i don't wanna disappoint anybody :( ANYWAY, as usual, any and all mistakes are my own. if i've missed anything important pls let me know so i can correct it. feedback is encouraged (pls) and appreciated (i am begging...)

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and very unlikely. Sure, you liked kids well enough, but having one of your own…

It’s a thought that’s sat in a corner deep in your mind, buried beneath a million other impossible concepts; a thought that you’ve only ever glanced over and never gave your full attention, having ruled it out ages ago as something you just couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do.

And then, on a day like any other, it pushes its way to the forefront of your mind, making itself known and unwilling to leave.

You’re going into the clothing store to find a new cardigan after your most favorite one got eaten by the dryer. Usually you’re a single-minded shopper, walking into a store with tunnel vision and on a mission to get what you need and that’s it.

Today, however, you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander on your way to the sweater section. Your gaze just so happens to land on the baby clothes… and your steps falter. It’s there that you see it, a tiny, pink onesie with a sleeping teddy bear printed on the front, displayed on an even tinier hanger. There’s matching pants with teddy bears all over them and ruffles on the butt and all your brain can muster up is cutecutecutecutecute.

Your feet carry you closer and before you realize what you’re doing you pick up the outfit, letting out a coo when you realize the teddy bear is fuzzy, softly rubbing your thumb across it. Somehow, you walk out of the store, not with a new cardigan, but with the cute baby outfit and a bow you thought looked adorable with it.

It’s not until you get home that it hits you, that you bought baby clothes for a baby you don’t even have.

The feeling that rushes through you is hard to describe. Shame? Embarrassment?

...Yearning?

No. Definitely not. Nope.

There’s absolutely no yearning going on here, not for a baby. You’ve never even had that desire before and you certainly don’t see yourself having it now. You shake your head to clear it, telling yourself you’ll take it back tomorrow.

Except you don’t take it back. You conveniently “forget” and it stays shoved on the top shelf in your hall closet. You pretend you don’t pause in front of said closet throughout the following days—weeks—chewing on the inside of your cheek and staring at the door like you can see through the wood at the evidence of your impulsive purchase.

It gets harder to ignore, though, when you start getting ads for baby clothing brands. And baby toys, bottles, handy little gadgets for new parents, nursery decor… It’s endless.

Then, as if it wasn’t already bad enough, all of your childhood friends start popping out babies like it’s a brand new trend. You don't think you've seen your social media this flooded with pregnancy announcements and baby arrivals, ever. Your emotions are mixed; happy for them, and for their excitement, but there’s also a weird discomfort settled in your stomach.

You hesitate to be that person who thinks the universe is trying to tell you something, but you do wonder. Why else would you suddenly have these feelings? Why else would there be baby stuff everywhere you look now?

It brings on other thoughts, as well. In this day and age, it’s not too unusual for women to have babies without being married, or without a significant other at all. There is the pressure, still, to at least be in a relationship, but considering you’ve been practically in love with one of your closest friends for the last two years, it’s safe to say that you’re tragically single, so having a baby with someone is out of the question.

And god, do you even want a baby?

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, with a sudden clarity that hits you like a ton of bricks, you realize you do. It feels like a freight train has slammed into you. Your mind’s eye supplies you with images of a swollen belly and wide smile, a precious baby wrapped in a soft blanket, cradled in your arms, a gummy grin and happy giggle.

Emotion consumes you then, longing like you’ve never felt in your life, chest aching with how badly you want that.

It’s not as if you’re too young. You’re plenty old enough and you’ve got a secure job. You don’t subscribe to that whole biological clock nonsense, but you do feel that if you are going to potentially have a baby, it might be better to do it now while you’re still in relatively good health.

You groan, dropping your face into your open palms, the movie you'd been watching to try and distract yourself long forgotten as it continues to play on the television.

This is a lot to think about, you ponder to yourself. Taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly, you decide the mature thing to do is give yourself more time to ruminate on it. Having a baby is no small decision. You need to be absolutely certain it’s what you want. It’s going to change your entire life, everything, and you’d be responsible for a new life. So, you’ll have to give yourself a few months to decide and then you can go from there.

***

You’re scrolling through yet another article on your laptop, engrossed in every detail of the process of artificial insemination and the symptoms and side effects that come with it. So engrossed, in fact, that you don’t hear the key turning in the lock, the door opening and closing, and the heavy footfalls that follow.

It’s only when Bucky asks, “Whatcha reading?” that you are even aware of his presence.

You startle so hard that your knee slams into the underside of your table. Ignoring the throbbing pain in your knee and your wildly beating heart, you close your laptop with a snap and turn to Bucky.

“You could knock,” you grouse.

“Why give me a key, then?” he retorts, unapologetic.

You roll your eyes and grumble under your breath, “Clearly, it was a mistake.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

Brows furrowed, you ask, “What?”

He gestures to your laptop. “What were you reading? Your nose was nearly smushed against the screen.”

You blink, trying to think of a reasonable excuse and coming up empty.

“Nothing,” is all your brilliant mind can supply.

Bucky’s eyes narrow for a few seconds, and you pray to every higher power and all that is holy and good that he won’t press further. You remain frozen under Bucky’s suspicious stare, hearing that Old West shootout music playing in your mind.

Thankfully, it seems the deities are feeling indulgent, as Bucky chooses let it go.

He holds up the bags he carried in. “I brought lunch.”

You perk up instantly. “Did you go to that one place—?”

“With the fried rice you like so much, yes,” he finishes for you, smiling.

“You’re the best,” you sigh, stomach rumbling eagerly.

“I know,” he replies, solemn and dramatic like the idiot he is.

He begins taking out the styrofoam boxes and chattering on about something dumb Steve did the other day, and you mean to listen, you really do. It’s just. That article is still lingering in your brain. There’s so many steps and hassles. Plus, it’s not cheap. It would be a hefty investment.

You’d only researched it because, after months of contemplating the pros and cons of having a baby, you determined the pros far outweigh the cons. But then the problem was: how to even make it happen.

Your first thought was that you didn’t think you’d let just any man come inside you, for many obvious reasons. You’d shuddered to think of it. Then there was surrogacy, which is admirable and wonderful, but you’d quickly dismissed that idea as you realized you wanted to actually carry the baby yourself. So that led you to artificial insemination. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet. There was something a little too clinical about choosing a random man’s sperm to have injected into your uterus.

Bucky’s still speaking as he grabs plates and forks, unaware of your inner monologue. “And then he got Sam involved,” he’s saying, scooping out food onto the plates, “which, as you know, I always think is a dumb thing to do.”

“I want to have a baby,” you blurt, eyes widening at your outburst.

Bucky fumbles with the spoon, sending fried rice flying, muttering curses as he tries to catch it with no luck as it lands with a dull clunk on the table. The silence that follows is loud. It feels like your heart is in your throat as you wait for him to just say something, anything.

“This is… quite a mess I’ve made,” Bucky finally observes. His voice is a bit higher than usual. “Where’s your vacuum? Actually, do you have one of those mini ones? Or would Clorox wipes be better? You know what, I’ll do both.”

He nods decisively then turns an expectant look towards you. His eyes look a bit wild, but you wisely keep that to yourself.

Wordlessly, you direct him to your hall closet. You realize your error a second too late when he opens the closet and reaches for the vacuum on the top shelf, where the purchase you’d made months ago also rests. His fingers get caught in the plastic bag when he grabs the handheld vacuum and its contents spill out. He goes to catch them right away, but once it registers what they are, he lets go of them like they’re on fire and nearly drops the vacuum on his foot.

Heat has been steadily creeping up your neck, but now your whole body feels aflame with embarrassment. The two of you stare at the baby clothes lying unassumingly on the floor for a long moment, until Bucky quietly walks back to the table with the vacuum clutched tightly in his fist. He flicks the switch on and it whirs to life, sucking up the bits of rice scattered around the table.

There’s another lengthy silence after he turns the vacuum off and you're unable to find the right thing to say to break it. Bucky does it for you.

“So… You’re serious.”

You meet his eyes and sigh heavily. “Yeah.”

He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, schooling his expression carefully. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”

You cough lightly and start picking the peas out of your fried rice. “Well, that would be because I’m not.”

“I don’t think I follow,” he admits slowly.

You sigh again, lowering your gaze to your lap. “Look, I’ve thought about this a lot, okay? I’ve given myself months to really make sure it’s what I want. I’m in a good place in my life to have one, Bucky, and I don’t want to feel pressured to wait until I might get married.” You lift your gaze to his. “I want to have a baby,” you repeat firmly. “And I don’t need a partner to have one.”

You’re not sure why you feel the need to defend yourself. It’s not up to Bucky what you decide to do. You don’t need his approval, or anyone else’s. Maybe it’s because, even though you know it's not true, it feels like you're making too hasty of a decision.

After a beat, Bucky amends, “Well, I mean… You do…”

“Oh my god, shut up, you know what I mean,” you groan as you smack his arm, glad that he's not calling you crazy or trying to talk you out of it.

He doesn’t even flinch, the jerk.

“Wait, so what were you reading when I got here?” he suddenly questions, brows furrowed.

“Nothing,” you say too quickly, guiltily.

“Let me see your laptop then,” he counters as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You flounder for a second, scoffing. “What? No!”

“It can’t be that embarrassing, just show me,” he wheedles.

“Absolutely not.”

“Let me see!”

“It’s private!”

“Don’t be a chicken.”

Your eye twitches. “I’m not a chicken.” Bucky smirks and before he can even open his mouth you interject with a finger pointed accusingly at his face, “Do not start clucking at me, Bucky. I’ll kick your ass,” you threaten, though it's weak and you're not the only one who knows it.

You glare when his smirk only widens. Slowly, he moves his arms like he’s gonna flap them like chicken wings.

“Ugh! God, fine! You wanna know what I was reading?” You open your laptop and slide it over to him, turning it to where he can read it. “There.”

Bucky scans the page, then scans it again, eyes flicking all over like it’s in a different language. His cheeks grow redder and redder as he reads and you get a small sense of satisfaction at the sight.

“Wow,” he mutters finally. “You’re turkey baster serious.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What?” he asks innocently.

When you make eye contact with him, you purse your lips to keep the laughter threatening to bubble out at bay, but the ever growing smile on Bucky’s face is hard to resist and you find yourself snorting a laugh that leads to uncontrollable giggles. Bucky’s laughing with you, his eyes crinkling on the sides. The tension you hadn’t realized you held in your shoulders loosens and you nudge his knee with yours in silent thanks.

“So,” he says after you've both calmed down.

“So,” you repeat, dragging it out, drumming your fingers on the tabletop. “I’ve been doing research, checking out all of my options, and while artificial insemination seems like the best choice… I don’t know, there’s just something too clinical about it,” you reply, voicing your concerns, “It doesn’t feel right. I know I said I don’t need a partner, and I don’t, but… Having absolutely no connection is weird.”

You shrug, waving a hand as if to say oh well, putting an end to the conversation, and pick up your plate to carry it over to the microwave. You reheat Bucky’s food while you’re up, and then you both start eating in comfortable silence. He gets halfway through his meal before speaking up.

“Have you… I mean, did you think about… I’ve heard that, uh. Some people ask another person…”

He trails off, clearly frustrated that he can’t just spit out what he’s trying to say. You think you understand what he means, though.

“I read up on surrogacy,” you say, biting your lip. “But I don’t think I’d want someone else to carry my baby.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean—I wasn’t suggesting, uh, that. Not that there’s anything wrong with it!” he rushes to say.

You tilt your head. “What did you mean then?”

“Well,” Bucky starts, stilted, licking his lips. “For the artificial insemination, have you considered… you know. Asking someone you’re close with?”

You frown, not following.

“For—for the sperm,” he clarifies, shifting in his seat.

“Oh,” you breathe, blinking rapidly, surprised as you think of how to reply. “Um. No? I wouldn’t even know who I could ask, to be honest. That’s quite the request, you know? Who would—“

“Me,” he interrupts, determined and cheeks flushed, “I would.”

Your own face heats. “Oh,” you say again, quieter.

You can say, with full confidence, that not once did it cross your mind to ask anyone to help you, but you especially would have never given thought to asking Bucky.

For a list of reasons, really, with “it’s Bucky” being right at the very top. Like—sure, yes, you’re in love with him, but after two years of no signs of reciprocation you’ve learned to stop dreaming, to stop hoping. If the attraction was mutual he would have shown it by now, right? And on top of that, his friendship means the world to you and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. You'd never forgive yourself if you ever managed to fuck up the one good, constant thing going for you.

“Bucky,” you start, slow and careful, “this… This isn't something you can just jump into. It’s something you should think about for a while.”

He contemplates that for a second. “You’re right,” he concedes with a nod. “But…” He purses his lips, glancing away for a minute before turning back to you, leaning forward. “Okay listen, this is important for you. It’s going to change your whole life. You said it yourself, not having a connection to the sperm donor feels wrong. You’re my best friend, alright? I—care about you. You should pick someone you can trust.”

He clenches his jaw after he finishes speaking. You sort of hate the way your heart both flutters and plummets at his words. It’s nice to know you matter to him, just not in the way you’ve wanted for too long.

And if you’re really honest with yourself, Bucky would be a great choice as a donor. He’s in great health, has strong features that would look wonderful on any gender. But would you be able to handle the repercussions of having his child? Would you be able to look at your baby and see those features without it sending a pang through your chest every single time? You can’t say for certain.

Yet, the chance to have that type of connection with him, selfishly, sounds too good to pass up.

“At least think about it for a few days,” you murmur reluctantly.

It’s the most acceptance he’ll get and he knows it. A smile blooms across his face and you have to swallow down the warring emotions rising within you.

***

With the amount of research you do on the subject now, it doesn’t take long for you to find out that there are at-home kits for artificial insemination that are much easier (and cheaper). It’s easy to settle on that, clicking on the info to order your kit with butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You read through the instructions online and it all sounds simple enough, until you get to the part where it says that having an orgasm after injection helps increase your chances of conception.

Blinking, heat crawling up your neck, you read that step several times, hoping you read it wrong, but it doesn’t change.

You… You can’t masturbate with Bucky’s sperm inside you. That’s a line you refuse to cross.

And besides, he’s a healthy man in his thirties who exercises regularly and eats fairly healthy food! You probably—definitely—won’t need to take that step. It’ll be fine. Probably.

Once the kit arrives, you call Bucky and ask him to come over so you can explain the process to him. Since he’s only across the hall of your apartment building, he’s there a moment later, letting himself in with his key.

“Let’s make a baby,” is how he greets you.

“Hold your horses,” you reply, fighting back a laugh. “I gotta walk you through everything first.”

He plops himself down next to you on your couch. “Fine, fine. Go ahead.”

Squaring your shoulders, you begin telling him how it all works, and what parts he is key for. You speak through your awkwardness, avoiding eye contact, when you explain that he’ll need to masturbate into a clean, sterile cup. You leave out how it’s suggested for you to also masturbate, deciding it’s not pertinent information for him to know.

“When do we start?” he asks once you’re done.

“I have to take an ovulation test first to find out the best days for me to conceive, but once I do that we’ll be able to, um.” You gesture vaguely. “I’ll be able to do the injections.”

He nods. “Alright.” He looks at you then, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be here every step of the way, okay?”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “Thank you, Bucky.”

“You’re welcome,” he returns softly.

“No, really, thank you,” you assert. “This is a lot to take on and I can never fully repay you.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I want you to be happy, and I can see that having this baby is going to do that. I’ll do whatever I need to do to ensure it happens.”

You pull him into a hug, willing yourself to not cry. You’re not sure he’ll ever understand what this means for you, personally, or that you’d ever find a way to express it. He’s giving you so much more than just a baby.

***

The first injection time comes and you find yourself fidgeting where you sit as you wait for Bucky to bring over the, uh… sample. You do your best to not think about what he’s doing in his apartment, to not think about exactly how he’s collecting his sperm.

Now is not the time, you mentally scold yourself. Get it together.

A timid knock at your door alerts you to his presence. The fact he’s knocking says a lot about his own level of embarrassment about the situation.

His cheeks are pink when you open the door. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” you return.

He clears his throat and lifts the small cup in his hand. “Here’s… well, you know.”

You gingerly take it from him, not knowing what else to say, but when he smiles somewhat crookedly and turns to leave, you find yourself asking, “Will you stay?”

Bucky’s steps pause. “Huh?”

“Will you—I mean… Would you mind staying?” You shift on your feet. “This is a big moment for me. I-I don’t want to do it alone.”

“Are you asking me to…?” He trails off awkwardly.

“Oh! God, no, I wouldn’t—no,” you assure, huffing a laugh, “I’m doing the injection, I just need a little moral support. That’s all.”

Bucky smiles. “Sure, I’ll stay.”

Relief floods through you. You step aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. He follows you to your bedroom and just before entering you stop in your tracks, nearly causing Bucky to bump into you.

“Um,” you mutter, turning to him. “You’ll have to, ah, sit out here,” you explain. “I have to be lying down…”

Understanding dawns on him. “Oh! Right, right, of course. Sorry.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m done,” you promise.

He nods and watches you close the door. You walk over to your bed and sit down, glancing at the syringe you’ll be using and biting the inside of your cheek.

This is it. There’s really no going back after this. Sure, you may not get pregnant the first time, but Bucky’s already said he’d help you for as long as it takes. It’s just… very real now. You don’t feel any doubts, though. You want this.

Inhaling a large breath and slowly letting it out, hands shaking, you take the lid off the cup and pick up the syringe. You remember the instructions, making sure there’s as little air sucked in as possible when you draw out the semen, and getting rid of the few air bubbles that you see. You grab your pillows and lie down, propping them beneath you to lift your hips.

“Here I go,” you mumble to yourself, taking another deep breath and releasing it.

A couple minutes later, the syringe is empty and you’ve got your legs pulled up to your chest. You cover yourself with your blanket and call out Bucky’s name.

“You okay?” you hear through the door.

“Will you come here, please?” you ask.

He walks in cautiously, making sure you’re decently covered before entering fully, wisely not commenting on your position. “Well?”

“I did it,” you whisper.

He stays quiet, letting you parse through your thoughts. You blink when you feel tears threatening to gather in your eyes. He’s beside you in an instant, crawling in the bed and lying down, taking your hand in his.

“Congratulations,” he says softly.

“Don’t congratulate me yet,” you reply, sniffing and wiping at your eyes.

“Still,” he presses. “You’re one step closer now.”

He pulls your hand up and kisses the back of it. You give him a watery smile. The two of you lay there in silence for a moment before Bucky breaks it.

“This isn’t how I pictured myself making a baby.”

It startles a laugh out of you and Bucky grins, pleased to have helped ease the tense atmosphere. He distracts you with idle conversation after that, talking about his plans for the upcoming weekend, asking about yours, tells you about the newest stupid thing Sam did; he talks and talks and talks, until your anxiety is gone, and then he stays to cook dinner for you.

Your hug when he gets ready to head back to his apartment lasts a couple minutes longer than usual. Bucky quietly allows it, dropping a kiss on your forehead when you pull away.

“Same time next week?” he jokes, making you crack a smile.

“Goodbye, Bucky,” you reply exasperatedly as you close your door.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he returns over his shoulder.

***

Weeks pass. More injections. Pregnancy tests taken.

But nothing happens.

All of your tests come back negative.

When reading up on artificial insemination, and pregnancy in general, you’d understood that there was a chance it wouldn’t happen right away. You thought you were fine with that, that you’d be alright with the waiting and all. Looking at your growing collection of negative tests, however, has a sense of dread building within you. You do your best to quell it, telling yourself there’s no need to stress over it. Yet.

Besides, your mind supplies in an overly cheerful manner, there’s still one more method to try!

***

The next time Bucky brings over his sample, he lets himself in, like always, and passes along the cup with an encouraging smile. You try to smile back, but it feels more like a grimace. He either doesn’t notice or he at least pretends not to, thankfully.

But when he goes to make himself comfortable to wait, you’re reminded that you haven’t told him about the, uh… change in procedure, so to speak.

You clear your throat delicately. “I don’t think you’ll need to stick around this time.”

Bucky frowns. “Why not?”

“Because…” You trail off, cheeks pinking, yet not finishing the sentence, because how do you explain this?

“I promised you I’d be here every step of the way,” he recalls. “I intend to keep that promise.”

You wince. “I really appreciate where your heart is, Bucky, I really do, but I literally cannot let you be here for this injection.”

“Why not?”

You look heavenward for mercy. “I have to…”

When you don’t finish your sentence again, Bucky raises a single brow, gesturing for you to go on. “You have to… what?”

You huff, throwing your arms out. “I have to orgasm, okay?”

His eyes go a little bit wide, but you can tell he tries to control his reaction. He swallows, shifting where he sits on the couch.

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Have… have you had to do that before?”

“No. Well, I mean, it was suggested, but I never…”

His eyebrows furrow. “Does it help or something?”

You absently scratch your neck. “They say it increases the chances of conception.”

“But you haven’t been doing… that.”

“I didn’t think I’d need to.”

Bucky inhales like he’s going to say something, but then doesn’t.

“Yeah, so, I don’t think you should be here,” you utter, quickly adding, “No offense.”

“No, yeah, that’s fair, um. I’ll just—I’ll head back to my apartment,” he states as he stands. “You can—I mean, if you still want me to—I can come back over? After you… uh…”

“I’ll let you know,” you reply, voice tight and high.

He nods, looking lost and like he wants to say more but thinks better of it. Finally, he mutters a soft bye and is out the door.

Alone now, your stomach feels like it’s tying itself in knots and your heart is doing its damnedest to beat out of your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s just another injection, that this is the same as any other time you've done this, but you know it’s not. It's really, really not.

Laying down on your bed, syringe in hand, is much more nerve wracking than before. On your left lies a new addition to your routine. You don’t know why you’re acting like such a prude all the sudden. It’s not like you’ve never masturbated before. Though, you suppose the major difference is that you didn’t have Bucky’s sperm hangin’ out in your vagina all those other times while you did it.

“Quit being such a goober about this,” you tell yourself.

This has to be done for a reason. If you want to have a baby—and you do, very badly—then you’re gonna have to deal with the process.

Once you’ve injected the sperm, you reach for your bullet vibrator next to your left hand. The instructions say not to insert anything, only to stimulate your clit. You try to clear your head, think of it as a chore or something, yet it’s hard not to think of a certain someone.

The vibrator buzzes with the press of a button. You adjust your hips, making sure they’re tilted, then bring the vibrator to your clit. The first touch makes your stomach tense and thighs spasm.

You close your eyes, running the toy along your slit. You really don’t want to drag this out, would prefer to get it over with as quickly as possible, but your mind begins running away with images.

Bucky, settled between your spread thighs, one hand resting on one of them, the other controlling the vibrator. You imagine he’d tease you, slowly trail it along the crease of your thighs, over your hips; everywhere but where you wanted it.

Bucky would probably give in once you whine and beg enough, once your desperation bled into your voice, and hold the vibrator directly to your clit, drink in your cries of pleasure like they’re the finest whisky.

He’d mutter soft but firm encouragement, tell you how good you’re doing, how good you sound. He’d start circling the vibrator, going from quick to lazy swirls, then he’d change the setting to a higher one just to hear you whimper. His free hand would run up your torso to pinch at your nipples for added stimulation.

When you imagine him leaning down to add his tongue into the mix, your mind blanks as your climax hits you, a ragged moan forcing its way out of your throat. You’re quick to turn the vibrator off and toss it to the floor, deciding you’ll worry about cleaning it later, chest heaving as you pant for breath after an intense orgasm.

Shame and embarrassment consume you, mock you for using Bucky to rub one out. You’d given in to the fantasy so easily.

Truthfully, it’s not the first time you’ve thought of him while pleasuring yourself, but the context this time is completely different, and you feel immediately guilty. Admittedly, it’s probably irrational.

That doesn’t stop you from cringing at your actions.

***

You’re sure you’ve bought out the entire pregnancy test section from the convenience store down the block. Currently, there are six different brands in front of you, all promising the most accurate results.

Bucky is sitting in your bedroom, quietly waiting for you to pee on all of them so you can both find out what they say. You chug the last bit of your third bottle of water even though your bladder is fit to burst at any moment. Turning the faucet on for modesty, you make quick work of the tests, then wash your hands.

And wait.

You call Bucky into the bathroom with you. The two of you quietly sit on the edge of your bathtub, counting down the minutes. Part of you wishes Bucky would say something dumb to break the tension, like he usually does, but you're also kind of glad he's just here, next to you, a silent comfort.

It seems like hours have passed when you’re finally sure you can check them.

The first one is negative, and so is the second. The third, however, reads positive. Your heart begins racing, clutching at the counter, but before your hopes get too carried away you read the rest. To your dismay, they are all negative. You stare down at them all, eyes falling on the loan positive test multiple times, knowing that it’s likely a false positive, yet stupidly hoping otherwise.

Your chin wobbles. Bucky hugs you from behind, resting his cheek on your shoulder.

“What do I do, Bucky?”

At your broken whisper, he sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

Neither of you know what to say or do after that. Bucky continues offering quiet support, his solid presence at your back, and you’re grateful. Eventually, he leads you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, sitting you down at the table as he starts preparing dinner.

When you’re both eating the spaghetti he made, he breaks the silence.

“Do you think…” he starts, pausing to think of how to phrase his question before carefully carrying on. “Are you going to stop?”

“I don’t want to,” you answer, the implied but hanging heavy in the air.

Bucky sits his fork down. “I know you want this, very much.” He pushes his hair out of his face as he leans forward, elbows settling on the table. “But I hate seeing how sad you get when the tests come out negative. I feel so… powerless. Like I could be doing more or something.”

“You’re doing all you can, Bucky,” you assure.

“That’s the thing, though. I don’t think I am.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

He licks his lips, locking his fingers together. “I think we should have sex.”

Your fork drops to your plate with a clang, eyes going wide.

“I apologize for how blunt that came out,” he states with a wince. “But, I mean, think about it. You’ve only been using my sperm from a syringe, and up until the last time, you hadn’t been, um, orgasming with it.” You look away, bashful. “I just wonder if maybe trying the old-fashioned way would give you better results.”

“Bucky,” you start, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before shaking your head. “It’s one thing for you to offer your sperm, which I’m thankful for, truly, but… Having sex?”

“I’ve already told you I’m willing to do whatever I need to do,” he retorts earnestly. “Your happiness means a lot to me, okay? I hate sitting around and watching your heart break every week. You’ve tried it your way, now I think we should try mine.”

“I-I don’t know,” you hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek, knee beginning to bounce under the table.

His hand slides onto your knee, stilling the movement as he ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are impossibly sincere and your resolve crumbles in an instant.

“It won’t… It’s not going to change anything,” he assures. “I won’t allow it.”

You swallow roughly. He may not, but your heart is going to take its toughest beating yet. It’s going to be hopeless trying to overcome the inevitable emotions that come with sex.

Even so, somehow, your longing for a baby eclipses all of this. Now that you’ve imagined holding your child in your arms, raising them and loving them, you can’t go back. Not anymore.

“Okay,” you allow, softly.

Bucky’s shoulders relax, lips tipping up into a devastating smile.

You’re so fucked. (Pun intended.)

***

Two nights later, you’re pacing in your bedroom, impatiently waiting for Bucky to arrive. You’d been unsure whether or not you should dress up. You didn’t see the point, honestly. Still, a small part of you wondered what his reaction would be if he saw you all done up in lingerie. At the moment, you’re in an oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts.

It’s Bucky, you think, and this isn’t a normal situation, it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing.

You hear his key turning in the lock then and your heart begins hammering away. He calls your name as he enters.

“In here,” you reply, twisting your fingers nervously.

He walks into your room looking just as on edge as you are. He also seems to have had the same idea about his attire, comfortable in his white tee and sweatpants. His feet are bare and for whatever reason that feels way more intimate than it has any right to.

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hi.”

You bite your lip, eyes flitting around your room and coming back to settle on Bucky. He huffs.

“This is ridiculous,” he declares, “It’s just us.”

“Right,” you nod, biting the inside of your cheek.

“It’s not gonna be weird.”

“Nope.”

His jaw ticks. You stare back at him. It only takes a moment for you to realize that somebody has to make the first move, so you steel yourself and turn on your heel, walking towards your bed.

“I’m keeping my shirt on,” you announce as you unceremoniously drop onto the mattress, grabbing your pillows to stuff them under you.

Bucky follows at a sedate pace, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He pauses next to you, taking a second to roll his shoulders, then he climbs in and settles in front of your bent legs. He gingerly places his hands on your knees.

“May I?” he asks.

Mouth suddenly dry, you nod. He moves his hands to the waistband of your shorts and tugs. You lift your hips to help him slide them down and off, along with your underwear. Gently, he spreads your legs.

Your breathing has picked up considerably, eyes firmly trained on the ceiling. You know you’re already wet and are blessedly thankful he doesn’t mention it.

The first slide of his fingers has you inhaling sharply. He slowly gathers your slick and trails it up to your clit, lightly circling it. Your mind recalls your fantasy, but you quickly shove it back to the depths of your thoughts, lest you do something idiotic like tell him about it.

He spreads your legs more, adjusting his position between them. His fingers move down until he can sink one into you. You gasp, hands shooting out to grasp your sheets. He wastes no time and begins thrusting his finger inside you.

It becomes quickly apparent to you that it’s going to be very difficult to hold back any noise or reactions. Goddamnit, you will try, though!

When he decides it’s time to add another finger, you feel yourself clench around them, and his soft fuck does not go unnoticed, evident in the way your pussy traitorously clenches again.

“Can I…?” he asks, voice cracking, but doesn’t finish his thought, making you have to break your staring contest with the ceiling and look at him.

He’s not even looking back at you, he’s staring at his fingers, watching them pump in and out of you, half bent over with a slack jaw, like he wants to…

He meets your eyes then, licking his lips.

Oh.

Swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat, knowing you’re probably going to regret it, you nod.

He’s leaning over and sucking on your clit before you can even blink. You cry out, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his free hand shoots out to hold you open. It makes you squirm, fisting the sheets even tighter. His fingers curl inside you as his tongue licks around them and you whine, high and needy, and then mouth is back on your clit, tongue swiping over it, sucking on it with loud, obscene noises.

His hand comes up to grab the hem of your shirt, shoves it upward until it’s bunched underneath your breasts. Those fingers ghost back down your torso, goosebumps erupting in their wake.

He speeds up his thrusts and your hand flies down to grip his hair. You don’t think you’re meant to hear the quiet grunt he lets out, but you do, and it has you panting even harder. Your orgasm is building, fast, and you pull on his hair in warning.

“Bucky,” you say on a gasp.

Using his arm to hold you down, his free hand joins, thumb swiping over your clit now as he dips his head to slide his tongue in alongside his fingers. It draws a yell out of you, the ever expanding pleasure within you bursting into the hardest orgasm you’ve experienced thus far in your adult life. You know you’re moaning, bucking into the sensations coursing through you, and you’d feel abashed if you didn’t feel so fucking good.

Before you can become too sensitive, Bucky withdraws his fingers and sits up. You can’t even really catch your breath, though, because in the next second he’s whipping his t-shirt off and shoving his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock.

Your thighs do clamp closed then, at the sight of how thick he is, and he tries and fails to keep his smirk hidden.

“Oh, shut up,” you wheeze.

“Didn’t say anything,” he counters.

He doesn’t let you argue, choosing that moment to shuffle closer and line up with your opening. Cautiously, he eases himself inside, inch by inch. Your mouth drops open, brows furrowing as he fills you, stretching you so perfectly. When he’s in as far as he can go, the breath wooshes out of him, his head falling back. You know he’s trying to be polite and let you adjust, but—

“Oh my god, move,” you demand, impatient.

He huffs a laugh, dropping his heavy lidded gaze to yours. “Bossy.”

“Did you really expect anything else—oh!”

The grin he aims your way after grinding into you is downright sinful. You mentally tell yourself to kick him for that later.

He grabs your hips and the pillows and settles you closer to his lap, changing the angle, then pulls out and glides back in, creating a painstakingly slow rhythm.

You have to close your eyes. You can’t look at him anymore. You knew he was probably a god in bed, but to now have firsthand experience? There was no way you’d be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them.

His grip on your hips tightens, the only warning you get before his thrusts turn sharp.

“Fuck,” you cry out, your hands reaching up to grip the pillow beneath your head.

The sound of your skin meeting his is harsh in the otherwise quiet room. Well, okay, you’re not exactly being quiet, but you can’t be blamed for that.

Bucky, however, is nearly silent. The only thing you hear from him is heavy breathing. You wonder if he’s holding back, the thought crossing your mind for a split second, and then you’re clenching around his cock, trying to see if you can gain a reaction. And boy, do you get one.

He grunts and sucks in a breath, lips parting as his eyes squeeze shut. His hips pick up their pace and hair falls into his face. You find yourself wishing he was closer so you could brush it out of the way.

Stop it, you scold yourself.

He pauses to grind into you again, your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock, and you both sigh. Bucky leans forward, hooking your legs into the crooks of his elbows, and resumes his brutal pace.

“O-Oh,” you whimper.

The new angle is heavenly, his cock dragging along a spot inside you that you thought nobody else could find. Unable to help yourself, you clutch at his arms, nails digging in.

“Shit,” he groans, thrusts faltering.

He lets go of one of your legs to slip his hand between you, rubbing at your clit and sending you that much closer to your second orgasm. He can tell you’re close, but you’re gonna need something to push you over the edge. He leans down even closer, breath fanning out against your cheek.

“C’mon,” he pants. “Let go.”

You shiver when his tongue flicks your earlobe and sucks it into his mouth, keening as the pressure builds. He thrusts harder, faster, and when you grasp his hair and pull, he growls and latches on to your shoulder, biting down. You gasp from the added pain and then you’re coming, shuddering and whining through your release. Bucky isn’t far behind, raising up and fucking into you savagely before pausing abruptly, groaning as he finally comes. He lazily thrusts a few more times to draw it out, then stops, stilling with his cock inside you.

Your hair is sticking to your forehead, as well as your shirt to your clammy back, breathing in lungfuls of air. Bucky is softly caressing your thighs, letting out shaky breaths as your pussy continues to flutter around him.

It takes several moments for you to gather your wits, for the rest of the world to come filtering back in. You are truly and completely fucked now, in every sense of the word.

“Well…” You trail off, voice scratchy.

“That was…”

“Mhm,” you mumble.

Bucky sighs heavily. “Let’s hope it worked this time.”

You hum. “Thank you for your service,” you reply with a lazy salute.

You yelp when he pinches your hip, kicking at him in retaliation. The jostling reminds you, with a gasping groan, that he’s still buried balls deep inside you.

“Um.” You cough lightly. “You wanna, you know… pull out?”

He looks down where you’re connected like it hadn’t even dawned on him. “Oh, uh. Well, I thought maybe it could, like. Help.”

His gaze stays locked, fingers flexing on your hips, and you feel like squirming again.

“I think it’s good,” you say quietly.

Bucky finally glances back up at your shy tone, cheeks pinking. He clears his throat.

“Right.”

Carefully, he eases his softening cock out of you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making a noise.

You can’t hold back yours, though, gasping once he’s gone. You feel unbearably empty, but refrain from voicing that incessant thought.

Bucky’s intense eyes stare at your pussy until you reach for the throw blanket next to you. He watches you throw it over your lap, drawing your legs up to your chest, and takes that as his cue, jolting into action.

“Okay, so.” He starts, then stops, climbs off your bed and pulls his sweatpants back up. “This was—I mean, if it doesn’t take this time, we can… try again.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “Sounds good.”

He nods, bending to pick up his discarded t-shirt. “Great. I’ll just, um, see myself out, I guess.”

You nod, sending a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes in his direction. He seems to contemplate something for a second, then leans down to kiss your forehead before saying a quick goodbye and leaving.

As soon as you hear your apartment door shut, you let your tears fall.

***

It’s not really like you mean to avoid him after that.

Honest.

You simply become busy, that’s all. You definitely don’t go out of your way by taking the stairs in your apartment building to avoid possibly bumping into him in the elevator. No, you take the stairs because you could use the cardio. It’s important you stay healthy right now. And when he texts you to ask if you want to have dinner, you can’t help that you’ve got boatloads of work to catch up on—all five times he asks.

Okay, so, that’s a lie. You’re totally avoiding him. But what on earth are you supposed to say to him now? You don’t think you’d even be able to look him in the eye anymore, not after the fuck of your goddamn life.

That night confirmed what you already knew for the last two years: Bucky absolutely ruined you for anyone else.

More than anything, though, you were angry with yourself. He’d only offered because you weren’t getting your desired results the other way. You should have been able to separate your feelings and emotions from all of it. After all, none of this was about whatever you feel towards Bucky. This was about trying to conceive a baby.

You try telling yourself to get over it. He’s your best friend, you can’t just cut him off because you’re a spineless pansy.

I just need some time, you reason. You can give yourself a few days to wallow over what could have been and then you can reach out to him and pretend like everything is fine. Because it is.

***

Flash forward two weeks to you attempting to sneak into your apartment, only to jump out of your skin when you turn around and find Bucky sitting on your couch, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Oh, good, you’re still alive,” he drawls.

His tone suggests annoyance. You suppose you deserve that.

“Hey,” you say after a pause.

He stares at you for a moment longer before speaking again. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t let it get weird.”

You agreed, you almost say, thankfully biting it back. You drop your purse on the entryway table, sliding your shoes off and making your way over to sit next to him.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. You tug your sweater sleeves down and tuck your feet beneath you. “I haven’t ever… I’ve never been intimate with a friend before. It was just… a lot.”

It’s a half truth, at least. You haven’t had sex with a friend before. Or, well, not one you had feelings for.

“You could’ve just told me,” he replies, reaching for your hand.

You nod. “I know, and I should have, I just. Things are all out of whack lately with the whole… trying to get pregnant thing.”

“If I overstepped in any way—” Bucky starts, but you’re quick to interrupt.

“You didn’t,” you promise. “You’ve been nothing but fantastic throughout this whole ordeal. Honestly, Bucky, you’ve done way more than anyone else would have in this situation. I just had a lot going on in my head and let it get the best of me. I’m fine, I swear.”

He searches your eyes and must find what he’s looking for.

“Don’t shut me out again,” he pleads.

Heart cracking in your chest, you can only nod, shuffling closer to pull him into a hug. He buries his face in your neck and holds on tight.

***

Another week passes.

Bucky is with you as you wait for the results of the latest pregnancy test. He’s reassured you that you’ll keep trying until it happens if it didn’t work this time.

When the timer on your phone goes off, you release the breath you’ve been holding. You take tentative steps over to the sink and gingerly pick up the test.

Positive.

Your stomach swoops. It’s positive. You check again, reading the digitized screen, but it stays the same. Positive. Holy shit.

“Okay, wait, no, I need to do more. I can’t get my hopes up again,” you mutter, rushing to open the cabinet under your sink to dig out several more varieties of tests.

You don’t even wait for Bucky to leave before you’re peeing on the other sticks. He’s seen it all at this point anyway, and he doesn’t seem to care, sitting on the edge of your tub with an anxious expression. The downside is that you have to wait another few minutes for these tests to finish and you can’t sit still, pacing back and forth in the small space of your bathroom.

The timer goes off again. You feel like you’re going to throw up when you finally work up the courage to look down.

Every single one of them… Positive.

A shocked, happy laugh escapes you. You cover your mouth, turning to Bucky with wide eyes.

He rises to his full height, coming closer and peering down at the tests, then back to your teary eyed expression.

“Did we…?”

Words failing you, you nod, giggling in astonishment. Bucky’s face breaks into the biggest, handsomest, most gut-wrenching smile. His happiness is palpable and you’re suddenly so overcome with emotion. Your hands are gripping his face and angling it to align your lips to his before you register what you’re doing. He freezes and you hurriedly pull away, taking a few steps back.

“I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know why—”

“Shut up,” he cuts you off, closing the gap between you in a single stride.

He kisses you like his life depends on it, pressing your bodies as close as possible, his hands cupping your cheeks. You clutch his shirt desperately, never wanting to let go. He steals the breath straight from your lungs when he swipes at the seam of your lips with his tongue, moaning happily when you allow him access. A feeble whine from you after he flicks his tongue against yours makes him break the kiss.

“I have a confession,” he breathes into the miniscule space between your mouths.

“What?” you question distractedly.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze shoots up to his, astounded. He brushes stray hairs off your forehead, runs his thumbs softly under your eyes.

“I’ve been selfish this whole time,” he reveals. “I couldn’t let you choose some random stranger to be your sperm donor, to father your child, couldn’t bear the thought of you carrying their baby, because I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you. I wanted to be the one. And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I’m not sorry I did it.”

You’re hearing the words, yet your brain can’t seem to make sense of them. Surely you’re hearing him wrong. You can’t possibly have this too, right? You can't have Bucky and have his baby…

But he’s here, very real and solid beneath your hands, looking at you like you’re his entire world.

“Bucky…” You trail off, struggling to find the right words, at a complete loss. “I-I’ve loved you for so long now, I didn’t think you…” You shake your head, a giggle escaping you as you stare at him in wonder. “I couldn’t let myself hope.”

He grins, relieved, planting a few chaste kisses to your mouth. “I know this entire circumstance is totally backwards, but I want you, and I want this baby. I meant it when I said I’m not going anywhere.”

Fresh tears gather in the corners of your eyes. “Are you sure?” you still ask.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You have to kiss him then, uncaring of the tears that trickle down your face. The only thing you are focused on is the way his hands trail down your back, pausing to squeeze your ass, then grip underneath to lift you. Your legs wrap around his waist, arms locked around his neck, as he heads for your bed. He makes a point of throwing your extra pillows on the floor before settling between your thighs and kissing the hell out of you.

He pulls away only to undress you and himself, but he’s always back as quickly as possible, lips pressing kisses wherever he can reach. You impatiently tug at him until his lips are attached to yours again. The way he fucks his tongue into your mouth is nothing short of indecent and it sends a rush of pure want all the way to your core.

When you bury your fingers in his hair, gripping it tight, he grunts, biting your lip. You whimper and he grins as he pulls away.

“You make the most beautiful sounds,” he praises, his hands beginning to sweep down and up, tickling under your breasts.

His thumb and forefinger pinch one of your nipples and you gasp, back arching off your mattress. He repeats it on the other side, just to hear the same noise.

“Bucky, please,” you beg.

“Please what?” he prods. His hands drift further to the creases of your thighs, spreading them open. “What do you need?”

You whine, canting your hips up. “You, I need you, please.”

“You have me, sweetheart.” He tilts his head and you make a noise of frustration. “Use your words, darlin’.”

“Fuck me, please,” you burst out, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

Bucky smiles, slow and torturous. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Fuck this perfect pussy until you’re so full of my come that it drips down your beautiful thighs?”

“Oh god,” you mumble.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teases.

His fingers slide down your slit, gathering your slick then thrusts two fingers in at once. You groan brokenly, shifting your hips to try and get more friction, but he holds them down with his metal arm. Agonizingly slow, he begins fucking you with his fingers. It’s good, it’s amazing, but it’s not enough. Not when you know what his cock feels like. He takes his precious time fingering you and you’re sure you’re going to lose your mind before the day is done.

“You have no idea how incredible you felt around my cock,” he tells you in a ridiculously conversational tone. “I was trying to think of any excuse I could come up with to have you at least one more time.”

He shifts until his mouth is directly above where you’re dripping for him, and he waits until you make eye contact with him.

“But now I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making you come apart on my cock any chance I get.”

You hardly have any functioning brain cells at the moment, but even if you could form a coherent sentence you wouldn’t have been able to say it aloud, because then he’s descending and all you can feel is the wet warmth of his mouth.

He definitely doesn’t hold back this time, that much is apparent in the way he devours you, lips and tongue drawing out noises you’ve never heard yourself make, pressing his face so far into your pussy that he has to come up for air. His mouth and chin shine when you chance a look down, and when you clench on his fingers his smile goes smug at the corners.

He plants kisses along your hips, the insides of your thighs, around where his fingers are buried within you. He curls them, in search of the spot he found last time. He knows he found it when you try to close your thighs around his head and cry out. Now that he's found it, he angles to brush it on every thrust of his fingers and attaches his mouth back on your clit.

You chant his name, nearly sobbing as you approach your climax, until finally you fly over the edge. Your vision blurs and you’re not sure if you’re making any noise now, unable to hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Bucky helps you ride it out until you’re shuddering from sensitivity.

He kisses your thighs again, trailing them up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts.

“So good, did so well,” he mutters.

Weakly, you lift your hands to trace them down his toned stomach and around his back, down further so you can cop a feel of your own, smiling at his grunt of surprise.

“That was great and all,” you say, arching your back so your chest presses against his, “but I do believe I asked you to fuck me.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Who said I was done with you?” It’s apparently a rhetorical question, as he continues before you get a chance to reply. “I’m gonna fuck you until you come, and then I’m gonna keep fucking you until you come again, and only then will I come so deep inside you there’ll be zero doubt I’ve put a baby there.”

Your legs are lifted and thrown over his shoulders in a blink, his cock pushing into your pussy, dragging out a high-pitched moan from you. There’s barely a pause and then he’s fucking you, just like you asked. The pace is brutal right from the start, a steady rhythm that has you mewling and writhing in pleasure. Bucky is watching his cock as he thrusts in and out of you, his mouth hanging open slightly as he pants. He hikes your hips up a little higher and you jolt through your startled moan. This angle is divine and the telltale signs of your second orgasm start tingling at the base of your spine.

“Can feel you,” Bucky says through panting breaths, “so close. C’mon, let me feel you.”

He pulls you down on his cock, grinding into you, his thumb reaching to rub tight circles over your clit. You sob through your release, shuddering against Bucky as you clench around him. He groans, still barely moving as you come down from your high.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Come here.”

He helps you sit up, still seated on his cock, making you both hiss from your movement. Your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders and his around your waist. He kisses you so sweetly, a stark contradiction to the way he just fucked you. When you pull away, resting your foreheads together, he grins.

“Hi.”

You crack a smile. “Hi.”

“Ready for more?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You think you got it in you?” you tease as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

The light smack to your ass startles you and you let out a soft sound of surprise, hands tugging his hair harshly. Bucky’s eyes light up.

“Interesting,” he muses.

Another slap, a little harder than the first, and you’re whimpering, your walls clenching around his still hard cock.

“I’ll play with that later,” he promises, voice breathy.

You bury your face in his neck and start shifting your hips. He takes the hint, gathering you as close as he can and thrusts up into you. He can’t pull out as far this way, but the snap of his hips more than makes up for it. You mouth at his collarbone messily, kissing and licking your way up to his jaw, biting marks wherever you see fit. You make it up to his mouth and he kisses you, wet and filthy. You suck on his tongue and a ragged moan claws its way out of his throat. The need for air eventually has you pulling away.

“It’s a good thing you love me back,” you whisper in his ear. “Nobody else could ever compare to you.”

He growls, fisting your hair and yanking your head back to look him in the eye.

“Nobody will ever compare,” he corrects.

You moan. “Yes,” you agree, whining, “No one else could’ve given me a baby.”

Bucky thrusts harder and faster at your words. You’re picking up on a few hints and you can’t say it’s not doing it for you either.

“Filled me up so good, fucked me so well. Gonna be round with your baby soon.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he keens, hurrying to lay you flat on your back so he can fuck into you easier.

The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, your cries of pleasure mixing in with Bucky’s grunts and curses. His grip on you tightens almost painfully as he chases both your and his orgasm. You’re sure to have bruises tomorrow and you already know you'll be poking at them to remember this moment.

“C’mon, baby, wanna feel you too,” you beg.

His thumb finds your swollen clit once more. It’s beyond sensitive now, feels like a shockwave coursing through you, and without any warning, you come. You spasm around Bucky and he swears under his breath, thrusts going sloppy. With a final groan, he comes inside you, his hips moving seemingly on their own as he draws out both your pleasures. Slowly, he comes to a stop, but he leaves his cock buried in you like he did last time.

You know you’re gonna feel too empty when he does pull out, so you don’t mind sitting like this for a while. Bucky softly runs his hands across every inch of your skin he can touch and you bask in the affection. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, smiling when he hums happily. It takes only a minute for you to notice the way his hands migrate to your stomach, and when you do you kiss his shoulder.

“Maybe we should go again later,” you suggest faintly.

Bucky grins. “We can do it a hundred more times if you want.”

“Guess I better enjoy it while I can.”

His smile goes soft at the edges.

It’s not lost on you how incredibly crazy all of this is. There will undoubtedly be a conversation, a much needed one that isn’t going to be simple or easy, but it’s necessary.

For now, though, you bask in Bucky’s warmth and loving embrace.

***

Keys jingle as they unlock the door and you perk up where you’re sprawled on the couch. Bucky enters, arms laden with bags from the convenience store.

“They didn’t have the banana ice cream you asked for,” he announces, continuing before your pout fully forms, “but they did have the double chocolate brownie kind you love so much, so I got that, as well as the sour gummy worms, beef jerky, and fried pickles from the deli on your list of demands.”

“What about—”

“And your strawberry Fanta,” he adds with a fond, slightly exasperated smile.

You’re unable to stop your expression from going soft and dreamy.

Ever since you and Bucky figured out where to go with your relationship, he’s been even more attentive and accommodating (and that’s saying something).

You expressed your worry about the possibility of something going wrong, that one or both of you would get bored and leave, or there’d be a big fight that neither of you could forgive. He was quick to reassure you of his commitment, told you there was no way he would ever get bored of you, and that as long as you both promise to talk things out in a calm, mature way, then you’d be alright.

It all sounded so easy when it was put like that. The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized he was right. It wasn’t fair to either of you to already give up before you’d even started. So you’d taken a deep breath and leaped.

Now, you’re five and a half months in, your belly steadily growing and making everyday life increasingly uncomfortable. The changes to your body were physically and emotionally draining, to say the least. Moreso the emotional side. You’d hoped you wouldn’t be one of those pregnant women with strange cravings, and for the most part they were pretty tame, but you do like to dip your sour gummy worms in banana ice cream. Bucky didn’t attempt to hide his disgust over that.

“What did I do to deserve you?” you ask on a pleased sigh.

He places your small cornucopia of goods on the coffee table. You sit up, huffing for breath during the struggle. You go to reach for the ice cream first, but Bucky catches your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles as he kneels in front of you.

“You were yourself. Smart, kind, selfless, unbelievably sexy.” You snort at that, but he’s undeterred. “And you’re giving me the best gift I could ever dream of. A family.”

Instantly, you’re crying. He’s grown accustomed to the mood swings by now, taking it in stride as he wipes away the tears with gentle hands.

“Stop being so disgusting,” you blubber through your hiccuping cries. “You’re such an asshole.”

Bucky laughs. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

You sniffle, kissing him. “Love you,” you grumble.

He leans down and plants the softest of kisses to your belly. “And I love you, little lady.”

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and unlikely, but life has a way of turning out exactly how it’s supposed to… And you wouldn’t change a thing.

[vivwritesfics]

Hi vivi it's me👹

(Aka lando's wife ofc)

first of all, CONGRATULATIONS ON 6K !! gosh it feels like somedays ago you had 5k 😭

Anywaysss

Can i please request a lando fic where the reader is going feral with his wins, achievements, posts and what not and it's just slow burn to a point where they both (and us, the ones reading) can't take it anymore?

(It can be smut, fluff, angsty, humorous idm! All upto youu)

Congratulations on 6k once againnn !!!!

HELLO MY DARLING! I'm so sorry this has been in my inbox for so long but I've decided to combine these requests bc... it felt like a good idea I suppose

The first win was Miami. She was there. Of course she was there; Lando took her everywhere.

Her nails had been between her teeth since lap one. And then the safety car came out. An engineer had to hold her to keep her calm.

And then max was just behind him. But that gap kept building. And building. Every time it changed her heart was in her mouth and she wanted to throw up.

She hadn't meant to drop to her knees when Lando crossed the finish line on the last lap. But hearing the words "LANDO NORRIS WINS THE MIAMI GRAND PRIX" had simply been too much for her.

She was squashed against the barrier with the rest of the McLaren team, watching lando on the top step of the podium for the first fucking time.

She wanted to kiss him. When he jumped out of the car, when he pulled off the helmet, just before he jumped into the arms of his team. She would have kissed him then.

His next win was Silverstone, his home Grand Prix. It was a different story on track, a closer fight between him and Max, but Lando ultimately finished first.

It was the same story for her. Being crushed against the barriers by the team as he celebrated. This time Lando ran to her, pulled her into his arms quickly over the barrier. But he didn't kiss her.

She was so fucking happy as she watched him spray the champagne over Max and Catlos, don't get me wrong. But there was a little bit of disappointment settling in her heart.

Fuck, she wanted to kiss him. What an asshole (but, of course, she meant it affectionately).

His final win of the season came in Vegas. The race he'd crashed out of last year. It was rather cathartic, winning a race he'd never even finished before.

She was going to kiss him. Fuck everything else.

Lando climbed out of the car and did his usual celebration to the cheering crowd. And then he made his way over to the team, all of them celebrating together.

And then he made his way to her.

Fuck everything else.

As lando pulled her close, she grabbed his sweaty curls. He didn't have much of a choice as she kissed him. But Lando didn't let his surprise shock him into stillness. No, seconds later, he was kissing her back.

Letting go of his curls, she pulled away. "I've always wanted to do that," she said, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Do it again."

She did it again.

[titania-sleeps]

ARGHHH i can't choose!! i love all house husband though!!

i'm glad you do hehe... i devise and plot deviously just for them bc they deserve it. i do wonder if people enjoy meaner readers vs. loving readers; I'll release both eventually but the two of them have such a different dynamic. the normal sub house husband is a bit more assertive and a brat, while the inadequate one just really really wants you to love him and only him... but in like a pathetic way.

here's a little snippet of what i had for them (i think the initial draft for both dated around 2022...)! as a note, my ideas may seem to blend in w some of my other works simply bc i didn't bother making them too distinct from each other, but i'll edit it to become more cohesive when i post in full in the future :D

warning: mild nsfw, dom reader (implied afab), minors DNI pls

Submissive House Husband Yandere x Independent Strong Reader

He is undone by you, a knot slipping apart. Seams unraveling, hair untangling, his entire vessel breathing erratically. Your nails grazing his skin erupt whispers of flames, dancing and swimming to his face. You thumb his cheek, tenderly and softly. You are never tender with him, at least not to such an extent.

His excitement grows, but he fears to open his eyes. He fears that if he opens his eyes, he will peer too far into your thoughts. And he knows that you are not thinking of him, even when you let your kind lips leave little love marks on his face.

"Why won't you look at me?" you ask, your voice like a pleasant temptation to his ears. It slithers slyly into his brain, and like a command, his eyes flutter open.

"Good," you purr. A praise. He cannot stop the shy grin from stamping itself onto his lips.

"You don't..." he pauses, wondering if he should continue. You stop and look at him, giving him your full attention. Shying under your gaze, he mutters, "You don't do this to anyone else... right?"

Your laugh echoes back at him, as though mocking him, but it is not unkind. Your thumb presses against his upper lip. "No. You are my husband, are you not?"

His face lights up in bright pink. How could he doubt you? Oh no, you look disappointed. Frantically, he nods his head.

"Yes, I am yours," he responds quickly. You hum in satisfaction, leaning in for a gentle peck. But you leave too soon, much too soon.

Hungry for the saccharine taste of your lips, he wraps his arms around your neck and brings you in closer. Closer and closer, so that the lining of your lip becomes a perfect match with his. So close, to the point that your tongue is melted into his, and your needy flesh encase upon another.

He seeks for you with the vigor of a beast, no longer quite the same timid house pet he once was. As you pull away for a breath of air, he whines. Just a moment without your lips is painful for him.

The eyes that peer down on him are now focused, like a trained sniper on their target. His body shivers; now your attention is wholly on him. Now you are looking at him.

You are truly divine. You are a goddess sent from above to smite him for his sins, for loving you far too much. He can only beg by your feet, day by day, pleading for a single audience with you. He just wants to please you, to become something that relieves you from strife and suffering. And to think that his goddess is now looking at him, just him! Only him!

The sound of silk slipping off jolts him from his daze. His eyes trail the discarded piece of clothing; a snake slithering its way up to an iridescent apple. The soft gleam of your skin meets his own eyes, and the sight breathes life into his fingers.

"Not yet," you say, a wonderful smile presented to him on your countenance.

[To be continued...]

Inadequate Submissive House Husband Yandere x Loving Reader

His wife is everything he has ever wanted in his life. You are beautiful and kind; forgiving whenever he makes a mistake and even patient she he does. And he always does. You are so lovely, he cannot help but want to be with you forever and ever and ever and ever and ever—

But he can't. He knows he can't, and it hurts so much, because he knows that he is useless. Deep down, he has already realized that you are only keeping him around because you pity him, not because you love him.

He wants to do better for you, but his abilities are limited to very little. He wishes that his love is enough to satiate you, but he is far too well aware of your disappointment in him. If he is lucky, you will not divorce him in the next year or two.

♡♡♡

Oh, your sweet, foolish husband. Always so patient, always so soft. Demure mannerisms and shy mumbles cloud his true worth. He may bumble and stumble about like a newborn doe on two legs, but his demeanor and intellect are worth far more. Yet only you are allowed to know this, and it is something you intend to keep locked up in your little treasure box of secrets.

Although he should most definitely refrain from doing housework.

[To be continued...]

ty for reading if you made it this far!!

-> masterlist

[wifeofsnowbaird]

can you do a Tom Blyth x reader where they are filming like a romcom or something and they fall in love over the course of filming? i was thinking fluff but i would not be upset if it somehow ended up with some smut in their trailer ;) , just follow your heart!! lots of love ❤️

ofc! I’m absolutely shitty at smut tho i might try with this one but idk so fluff it is❤️ it’s gonna have 3 parts bc it’s definitely gonna need more than a short post!

this first part isnt really when they're filming i just wanted Tom to have a slight crush after seeing ur story and wanted a small scene with Rachel and Josh!

So long I've been out in the rain and snow.

But the winter's come and gone, and a little bird told me so.

Part 1/Part 2/

(Tom Blyth x actress!reader)

summary: you and Tom meet for the first time while Josh is in the middle of the livestream. It's become the new famous ship of the internet.

You were one of the newest actresses in Hollywood and luckily you managed to grab a role with one of the most famous actors right now, Tom Blyth.

Ever since he starred in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, people have been thirsting for him like he was water.

You wouldn't lie, you were one of them, but you two were supposed to meet in a coffee shop, reciting your lines and you were late.

" Oh you're [Name] [Last name], nice to meet you! Sorry, my friends decided to follow me here. "

Tom grinned, blue eyes twinkling in the sunlight, an apology gleaming in his pupils.

"No worries, it's fine! I'm so sorry I'm late, it was just traffic!"

" Don't worry, I'm just glad you made it!"

You took in a deep breath and extended your arm for a handshake. Surprisingly, he hugged you instead. You met the two 'friends' who are actually fucking Josh Rivera and Rachel Zegler who were seemingly livestreaming on Instagram.

" And here is the new couple! Say hi, you two love birds!"

Tom rolled his eyes before letting you go to tell Josh off.

" We aren't dating, we actually just met."

Josh turned, confused for a second before gazing at Tom's phone that was left on his chair.

"Wait, seriously? Didn't you see a post of her being your new co-star in that rom-com you're doing and started bragging a lot to Rachel and me? What's it?"

He thought for a minute before his eyes lit up and he smiled brightly.

"Oh, yeah! Sweet truth, where a girl had a bunch of exes tell lies and cheat but then finds a man who tells her nothing but the truth?"

Tom hissed and shut Josh up by covering his mouth, before he noticed Rachel leaning toward confused you, beginning to tell you the whole story.

His panicked face turned red.

" So it was a couple weeks ago, we were just calmly hanging out after reshooting some Ballad scenes when Tom showed us your Insta where you were like, I don't know, talking about the movie you're gonna be in! He was literally obsessed, I am not kidding."

She shrugged as Tom glared at her for spilling his secret.

"I'm sorry, I mean you're beautiful and I-"

He cleared his throat, unable to continue because of his embarrassment.

You giggled, shrugging.

" It's cool, I mean I think you're hot-I mean handsome too."

Inside you were literally screaming at yourself for exposing the fact that he's your celebrity crush.

" Uh, guys, I hope this isn't method acting because I'd be really disappointed in you, Tom" Josh snickered, sharing a mischievous glance with Rachel.

Tom rolled his eyes, smiling at you before beckoning to the chair beside him.

" Let's, uh, practice...?"

[weebsinstash]

(Thank you for reminding me bc this post was literally starting to get buried in my drafts. I gotta finish some of the posts piling up in here lol, I started this months ago)

Ok ok ok ok ok so like. I'm on my "unwilling red string of fate" shit so fucking hard right now and I thought of a story concept that really hits all my buttons for drama and jealousy and just, tension!

but god wouldn't Velvette GENUINELY be one of the worst people to be stuck with, especially if you're older than her? Like as a woman, being older than her? I've been imagining scenarios for the past several days and this bitch would have me FUMING and I gotta emphasize now that this is like, a sadistic bullying yandere kinda scenario

You've been in Hell for just a few months, managing to get a job, being lucky enough to find a roommate to help with bills, and one day, you finally get your red string of fate when you're out at work. Oh gosh, you work kind of a demeaning job though, whether it be fast food or retail,and you start feeling anxious. Oh gosh, what if your soulmate doesn't like you? You're at work and you're kind of sweaty and... and...

THE Velvette of the Vees, a fucking OVERLORD, is clicking her heels right up to you and giving you a very obvious look up and down that's so BITING that you already want to cry. She just steps uncomfortably close to you and examining your every pore with obvious distaste, "you've GOT to be kidding me. YOU'RE my soulmate?!!"

Like for real, I would immediately shift gears, "ok well I guess we're both disappointed because I was hoping for a man with a REAL job" like, for real I know she's an Overlord and actually very very successful in her career but in this scenario she's several years younger than you and probably shorter too and like. I'm a bottom. That's such a turn off. Like I'm sorry, you're insulting me and calling me old and I'm like not even 10 years older than you? OK you fucking iPad baby, get your sticky fingers and short attention span out of my fucking space

Can you imagine HER AUDACITY to insult you immediately upon meeting you, criticizing your skin, your hair, your body, but she's still rolling her eyes, "ugh, well, come on, I've got better things to do than mill about here" "what?" "Did I stutter or are you hard of hearing at your age? I've got things to do and I'm not leaving you here. Clock out and get your shit or whatever and let's go"

I would just. Immediately tell her fuck you to her face. The second her disrespect comes out, that's it. Ok honey, go back to playing dress up and playing on your phone. I have a truck to help unload--

and she's calling her security goons to MANHANDLE YOU OUTTA THERE. Personal agency, you're almost 30, what's all that? She doesn't give a FUCK. You're her soulmate and she doesn't want other people or YOU getting into any weird shit and she maybe just maybe despite her absolutely nasty attitude is actually quite pleased to meet you and thinks how huffy and upset you're getting is just SO CUTE, like this bitch is PROUDLY suddenly intruding on your personal space to take a selfish with both of your hands in it showing the red string and upload it to her social media, "found my #redstringsoulmate! She's a fixer-uppet but I like a good challenge 💅" like BITCH I'LL KILL YOU? ON YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA PAGE?

She absolutely weaponizes her influence and position of power over you. You disappear? She has a group chat of people who roam the city looking for the latest hot goss and one of them just so happens to be in the bar you ran off to. Does she think you're getting a little too attached to another person? She absolutely destroys their reputation, and I mean that. She will bully you to goddamn tears and be borderline panting in the exhilaration of making you cry, but then she sees you sneaking off to secretly seek comfort in someone else? Velvette overhears one of her models saying that you're way too nice to be stuck with someone like Velvette? She hears someone imply that YOU are too good for HER? She gets them fired and punished in a huge public incident that she makes sure you're there to witness to conpletely destroy your bond with them. Wouldn't it be like soooooo funny and coincidental if that person turned out to have a secret SMS account where they bully and shit on you? Velvette will have Vox plant that shit if she has to

She'll spend time negging you and breaking you down so she can fix you up in her image. She'll have your old clothes BURNED "because they're too fucking ugly and cheap, you'll make me look bad" amd starts to completely control your wardrobe. She insists on having your makeup done when you go out, often applied by her own hand, meaning she's always in your face, looking st you uncomfortably close. You could just be in your room applying your own skincare with you own money and she'll look over your collection with intrigue and say something along the lines "you could've been a mildly popular skincare influencer if you had died before forming all those ugly wrinkles" and you just hit her with "and you'd be mildly fuckable if you were a few years older" WHICH ACTUALLY GETS TO HER BTW, SHE CAN'T STAND IT WHEN YOU POINT OUT HER "FAULTS" OR ANYTHING YOU DON'T LIKE THAT SHE CAN'T CHANGE

I just. Ok. Listen. Listen. IMAGINE HER PIVOTING BECAUSE YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON HER AND SHE'S INTO IT??? like one day she's really pushing you and grabs you by your wrist when you try to leave and you SNAP, you're older, you're bigger, and you were working manual labor so you're STRONGER. You just push her back against the nearest wall and have her by the throat, squeezing, towering over her, "don't you EVER put your hands on me, you disrespectful NASTY little girl!!" Tearing into her verbally before you let her go once you realize, hey you're kinda choking her, and she's. Into it. You're completely overpowering her and face to face with her with such fierceness in your eyes that it's awakening something in her. She's breaking out in a sweat and watches you storm off where previously she might have chased after you to continue the argument.

Like honestly... fucking bully bottom yandere Velvette who turns from a sadist into a masochist and starts actually really liking when you dig into her and even causing fights or confrontations so you talk down to her or even hurt her. Bully yandere Velvette who watches you actually stand up for her and one hit KO some creep who was aggressively coming onto her and getting really scary about it while the two of you are out and, oh what's this, she suddenly wants to design a new line of clothing, suddenly more, functional, a little masculine even. She watches you pulverize a guy twice your size and reveal you have like Uber Strength and later that week she's coincidentally having you try on a leather jacket "that was totally supposed to be tried on by another model but that bitch didn't show up today so you'll have to do" and it surprisingly fits you absolutely perfectly and... it's actually.... to your tastes???

You're beating up some fucking guy because even if you hate this bitch, you see a younger smaller woman having a grown ass man come up with the intention of hurting her and it just activates your protector instincts, and at some point you wonder why she's not yelling at you for creating some sort of massive scene in public and she's just. Sitting there holding her phone horizontally, "what? You can keep going. I won't stop you" and biting her lip as you proceed to pulverize the guy

Of course, she IS the co-creator of the love potion, so obviously I can't help but think of a Velvette who isn't so patient that you're 'holding out on her and playing hard to get' and decides she needs to 'get you in the mood'. Or, on the other hand, she knows you're tougher than her and needs to get you kinda doped up anyways and you're just coming to all tied up and completely helpless and at her mercy. I just. See so many potential dynamics. Her being taller than you, you being taller, her being the older one, but, in general I just see her being into artistic types of bondage like shibari and forcing you to model different things for her (even if you hate the style or its forced fem or anything like that) including lingerie and even the really really horny kinds 😳

she's always taking photos that you're never sure whether she's saving for her private collection or if she's taking things to use for blackmail, although she's never posted anything of you In That Way so far. Too jealous to share those kinds of pics, perhaps? (She will threaten you with it though. God do you think she could. Ask Vox to stage some kind of hoax or fake app where it looks like to you certain things of you are leaked and Velvette makes you beg and promise to be good for her to take them down and they're, fake, never even up to begin with. She's punking you.)

I guess as a final note, did any of you ever play, what was it, dressupgamesforgirls when you were growing up? I like the idea of a Reader who, to match Velvette's powers, can pull up an "inventory" or "wardrobe" and you can mix and match and swap out your outfits and makeup with magic. Of course, this will only fuel Velvette's already OVERWHELMING constant urge to dress you up and style you, but even if you try to keep things a secret, she's got such a close eye on you that you'll never keep anything from her for very long. Velvette may be the one who's an actual doll but YOU'RE the one who's gonna wind up played with like a toy

[shininas-ideals]

hi there!! i just wanted to ask what makes ppl in the fandom ship kunichuu?? im new to the fandom and fairly curious lol

Hi hi!

I'm fairly new to the fandom myself as I only watched the anime last year! but to answer the ask, idk I guess something in me just clicked

The idea of Kunikida and Chuuya interacting came to my head in that helicopter scene, where the PM saved the ADA from the Hunting Dogs (you can imagine my disappointment when they didn't so much as aknowledge their existence). When I saw them in the same space together I thought "huh, would you look at that, the two partners Dazai has had... I bet they got a lot of venting they can get over with a good drink"

Continue under the cut!

I've already made a post with my main points for how their dynamic would work, but just to expand on that (and bc I love talking about them):

• Like I said, they can have a funny lil moment to breathe and just complain about the living hell that is dealing with Osamu daily

• As an aftermath of their characters being created to bounce off of Dazai's antics, they have quite a bit of similarities between them that they can both help enhance mutually; like being hardheaded, both being excepcional physical fighters, both wearing their heart on a sleeve, both being destined to be the next big honcho of their respective organizations, both doing things that would be considered contradictory to their line of work, and many little details more

• I've also begun to think of many, many alternative scenarios where these two can make for an interesting plot, mostly, like I said, a post canon/future part where they've both inherited they positions as boss of the PM and president of the ADA respectively, making for many meetings that develop into a sorta kinship on their moral code as leaders of two important groups: as Chuuya, being a high rank of a criminal organization, doesn't actively enjoy killing and sees his men as the living humans that they are; and Kunikida isn't opposed at all to bend the country's rules and do some shady stuff if it's for the greater good of the people

So it's mostly just potential and parallels between their two stores that keep me wishing for at least a conversation that lets them see a bit further from the surface of their personalities and the rolls they play in the BSD world

Or it's just that I love Kunikida and I don't see the appeal in romantic Soukoku lol

Plus they have the potential to make a compelling duo that gets Dazai absolutely jealous and makes him lose his shit, cuz sure, he can take them one on one, but with both of them partnered up against him? Yeah, no shot

And can you imagine a fight scene between them? No Arahabaki, no abilities, just pure hands, mano a mano

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ you hate remus lupin, and he hates you. what happens when you get stuck in a lift together?

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 hour five!!!!! 𖦹 enemies to ?? 𖦹 forced proximity 𖦹 fem!reader 𖦹 remus has chronic pain 𖦹 i did not proofread this bc i'm lazy ⎝(ˊᗜˋ)⎠ 𖦹 ik this is short but next ch will be out very very soon. i am trying to keep you fed, my children, but life is hard and i am busy! 𖦹 again, thank you so, so much for the love on this series!!!!

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 465

prologue / hour 5 << pt. 6 -- hour 5 >> six months ago

"Shit— That's not—" He struggles out.

༻¨*:· 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝟓 ·:*¨༺

"No, I get it, Remus. I'm just a human disappointment, aren't I?"

"Y/n," he sighs, "That's—that's not what I meant."

"So what did you mean, Remus?"

"I—" His mouth stays open, but nothing comes from it.

"That's what I thought."

"Y/n," He scrambles frantically, "I didn't— I wasn't thinking straight. Please, listen—"

"Why would you even care? It's not like you enjoy me or anything. You hate me, Remus," Tears coat your eyes, and you're praying to whoever—whatever will listen that they won't fall. They don't listen, "You hate me, and I hate you." You huff, angrily wiping at your tears.

"I," He shakes his head, "I don't hate you."

It's like an invisible fist wraps itself around your lungs and squeezes. You can't breathe. The walls start closing in on you, "Yes, you do." You insist.

He winces, glancing down at the floor, before shaking his head, "No. No, I don't."

He looks up at you, voice dropping to a whisper, almost painfully quiet, "I've never hated you."

You stand up, "You're lying, Remus. Don't lie to me."

He stands, too, "I— I'm not lying. How do I make you believe that?"

"How?" You ask, "Try not being a dick to me!"

His gaze remains fixed on the ground, "I'll— okay. I'll be nice," He decides.

"Actually," You huff, "Don't bother."

He sighs, rubbing his face, "You are being so difficult! Do you want me to be nice or not?"

You want to scream, "I want you to tell me the truth! Do you hate me or not?!"

Remus groans, sliding back down the wall, "You are impossible," He sounds defeated—he looks the part, too.

"So what if I am?" You're being difficult on purpose by now, but you have every right to. He's the one who screwed things up between the two of you. Things could have been perfect, but they aren't. You are stuck in a godforsaken lift with Remus Lupin, and he doesn't hate you.

'I don't hate you.'

The words taunt you—they replay in your mind over and over.

Remus Lupin doesn't hate you.

"Hey," The voice from earlier crackles through the speaker, "Maintenance is," he takes a deep breath, "Maintenance is gonna be another hour or so. Sorry 'bout that. Hang in there!" And with that, he's gone.

The tension is so thick you swear you can feel it weighing you down.

You're both silent for about ten minutes.

"I don't hate you. I— I wish I had a valid excuse for the way I've treated you, but I don't." Remus looks at his palms like there's blood on his hands—and there very well might be.

Your voice is small, "So what's your reason?" You lift your head to look at him, but he's still staring at his hands.

HEHEHEHEHEHEHE

lmk if u wanna b tagged!

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[auras-moonstone]

hiiiii!!! there aren’t enough jack imagines, so could you do and actress!reader x jack? just a cute fluff bc jack is suck a lover boy 💗 thanks!!!

happy birthday — jack champion

word count: 1,216

pairing: jack champion x fem!reader

summary: y/n surprises her boyfriend, jack, on his 19th birthday party.

warnings: none, just fluff!

author's note: i meant to post this yesterday bc of jack's bd, but i wasn't able to finish it :( by the way, hope we get the mandatory pic with the 19 balloons.

JACK HAD ALWAYS LOVED CELEBRATING HIS BIRTHDAY, but this year his excitement had been on another level because there was a special someone he was looking forward to celebrate it with--his girlfriend of almost a year, Y/N. So, imagine how disappointed he was when she informed him she wasn't going to make it.

"Are you sure you can't do anything about it?" Jack asked hopeful as he facetimed his girlfriend, who was away in another country filming a movie.

"I'm sorry, love. I wish I could go, but you know how shootings are, I can't just bail." she pursed her lips at the disappointed expression painted on Jack's face.

Jack tried to put on his most convincing smile and nodded. "Yeah, I know. It's not your fault, I just miss you."

"Me, too, J. So much." she swallowed the lump that began forming on her throat. Seeing his puppy brown eyes turn glossy was heartbreaking, and the weight of the guilt was crushing her. "Maybe we can facetime when you blow the candles?"

"Of course, babe." he smiled weakly. "I'm sorry for being like this. I know you don't have a choice, and I hate seeing how the guilt is eating you. I promise I'm not mad, and I know that if you could, you would be taking the first flight back home to me. I love you."

"You're allowed to feel sad, J. Don't apologize." Y/N checked the time and let out a curse. It was almost 1AM, and she was going to be late. "Sorry, babe, I've got to go. Have fun, okay? I love you. Happy birthday."

When they hung up, Y/N grabbed her suitcase and left the place she had been staying at while she filmed the movie. Once she arrived to the airport and did the check-in, she texted Jack's mom.

hii, i'm about to board the plane! how's jack?

not going to lie, he's crushed but he'll love the surprise, don't worry❤️

i hate lying to him :( but you're right. i'll see you in a couple of hours!

JACK’S FRIENDS DRAGGED HIM OUT OF THE HOUSE FOR A WALK AS HIS FAMILY SET EVERYTHING FOR THE BIRTHDAY PARTY. For someone who loved his birthday, he was looking gloomy and not thrilled at all to go on with the party. His friends were tempted to spoil the surprise, just to get the sad frown off Jack’s face, but they knew that his blue mood was going to go away in a couple of minutes.

“Man, you’re going to spend so much birthdays together. And even though Y/N’s not here physically, she’s still going to make sure she’ll be there celebrating with you, even if it's through a phone.” one of his friend bumped him in the shoulder.

“No, I know. It’s not just because it’s my birthday, it’s because I haven’t seen her in a while and I was hoping this could be the excuse we needed to see each other.” his gaze was focused on the broken cobblestones.

“We get it, we do. But you know better than any of us how the industry works.”

He did. He really understood that the situation was beyond Y/N’s hands. She couldn’t abandon set just because her boyfriend was celebrating his birthday. But still, it didn’t make him miss her any less.

When Jack and his friends entered his house again, his mood lifted up a little. Even though his special girl wasn't there, his family and friends came to spend his day with him and that warmed his heart.

“This looks amazing! Thank you.” he said in a cheerful voice as he looked around. The living room was decorated with colourful balloons and confetti thrown on ground. Glued to the wall, there were garlands that read ‘Happy Birthday’ and golden balloons with the number 1 and 9. “I’m going to take a picture for Y/N/N.”

“There’s one more surprise.” his mother exclaimed excited.

Jack frowned but before he could say anything, two hands were covering his eyes from behind him. The tall boy stiffened, he couldn’t see the person but their scent was one he knew all too well. His heart threatened to leap out of his chest as the voice whispered in his ear, “Surprise, birthday boy”

He turned around and quickly lifted her up in his arms, crushing her into a tight hug. “You’re here!” he exclaimed in shock. Y/N gave him a 'I'm right here' smile and then laughed.

“Of course I’m here! I was never going to miss my boyfriend’s birthday.” she said against his neck.

“It never even crossed my mind that you might have been lying.” he laughed in disbelief.

“Well, I hope not. I act for a living, remember?” Y/N said teasingly. Her heart almost exploded at the way Jack was looking at her—sparkling eyes clouded by adoration.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” Jack showed her the smile she adored and had missed so much. He didn't care that his family's eyes were on them, he grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her into a kiss. “Did you always know you were coming or was it recent?”

“Babe, I would’ve never missed your birthday. I told the directors I was coming here weeks ago. We made sure to film the majority of my scenes so that these days they could focus on the ones I wasn’t in.” she explained.

“That’s why you have been so exhausted the past days, you were working your ass off so that you would be able to come and see me?” Jack swore he was about to cry at the revelation.

“And I would do it again.” she said in a confident tone. The way Jack’s face lit up when he saw her? She would do anything to keep him looking at her that way. “Anyways, enough about my very romantic gesture.” she joked. “Let’s celebrate your birthday.”

IT WAS ALMOST ELEVEN WHEN Y/N AND JACK WERE FINALLY SETTLED INTO THE BED. The girl was trying her best not to fall asleep, while the boy had energy to spare. He was just too happy that tiredness didn’t creep into his body. He was still on cloud nine from his amazing day.

“Thank you for being here. I had the best birthday ever.” Jack smiled widely, resting his head on her shoulder.

“I’m glad, love.” she said with eyes closed as she started playing with his hair, making him sigh contently. “By the way, I’m sorry for making you feel sad when I told you I wouldn’t make it. I hate lying to you and seeing you disappointed was heart wrenching, and I’m truly sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, babe. Your intentions were good. Besides, it was totally worth it.” Jack assured her. “I get to end my day with you, and tomorrow I’ll wake up next to you. I’m living my best life.”

Y/N smiled at his sweet words and bent her head down to press a kiss to his nose. “I love you so much.”

He raised his head and press a kiss to her soft lips. “But I love you more."

"Mmm no, this month I win the battle." she laughed.

Jack grinned like a love-sick puppy, still not believing what she had done for him. "True."

[piosplayhouse]

I don't know if you'll answer but I need to know the lore behind sexy times with Wangxian, like is it a fanfic? why do people hate the author??

It was the longest mdzs fic posted during its time in 2021 and gained extreme notoriety for its absurdly long tag list, frequent update schedule that consistently forced anyone scrolling any of its tags to see it at the top of their page, and escalating poor, racist, and trolling authorial behavior that ultimately culminated in the author virtual1979 being suspended from ao3 for a month because she posting an author's note saying she hoped that all her haters would contract covid and die. She deleted the fic from ao3 a little while after this happened, ig bc she wasn't getting enough attention anymore, but allegedly the thing's still up on dreamwidth under strict friendslock. The fan lore article goes pretty in depth about it:

The best summary for why it pissed people off so much is really just showing you these screenshots of what the fic looked like towards the end of its life on desktop and mobile (be warned opening the full image):

From my personal experience:

from 2019 up until around 2021 the fic really was just a normal-ish, if very strangely written and kinky, wangxian porn fic about them basically just fucking around post canon and enjoying day to day life. It updated pretty frequently and had a fair amount of tags because the author was literally just tagging anything that she wrote. But like the first few hundred, maybe even a thousand tags were pretty accurate to what the fic was because of that, and were relatively manageable for the first few years that it didn't pick up any attention really.

At some point in 2021 when cql was really starting to blow up online and the tag count was starting to pile up to the point of annoyance, the fic started receiving some comments that were just like "hey can you try to cut down on tags, I don't think it's necessary to be so specific as to tag 'Korean food' or 'eggs' or whatnot". The author did not share this idea, evidently, and instead built a grudge against commenters who would tell her to delete tags, subsequently adding more and more as time went on.

As the tag count and updates increased, the content of the fic did too-- it got a lot, lot weirder. I'm sure someone's saved it all somewhere but for reference it spun out into what I can only describe as like if Rick and Morty's plot was cut to be just the parts of the show with underage/incest plotlines with All Tomorrows level sex dystopian world building exclusively to elicit the most visceral audience reaction possible. Around this time is when more people started to notice the fic and its escalating tag issues, leading them to leaving more comments complaining about it, leading to the attention seeking author spitefully adding more tags. Around this time is when she also started adding fake tags that didn't apply to the story whatsoever (sorry to disappoint, "talking vagina" was one of those. I did check) just to boost the count, take up more space on people's screens, and bait people into commenting hate for attention.

By this time, it had become a fandom-wide annoyance as she had begun to tag entirely unrelated ships, therefore putting the near-daily updating titanic of a fic at the top of any mdzs-related tag. People were outraged about this, and calls came for ao3 to step in. Ao3 waffled around for a bit as there was no official rule at the time that imposed a tag limit, so there wasn't established ground to ban virtual1979 (who btw many people suspected of being 40 whole years old due to the username and allegedly some other internet sleuthing on Facebook or something). Meanwhile, she began to tag other fandoms-- tgcf, svsss, BTS, basically anything that would get a lot of attention and draw hate with the advent of The Monstrosity suddenly drowning out all other recently updated fics of the targeted fandoms.

People had been trying to retaliate without ao3 action, though, by coding their own themes/skins that would allow someone to block a user or work and other fic writers made their own parody, the "bland times with wangxian" collection, which were minimally tagged sfw shortfics typically featuring wangxian just doing laundry or things like that. A good amount of them were actually like just fics where wwx would explain to lwj how to install custom ao3 themes and block fics that were taking up too much space on his screen. Imo it was pretty funny, but these also sparked some controversy as people disagreed with fighting annoyance with more annoyance to people trying to find content.

Either shortly before or after ao3 staff said they'd step in due to an insane amount of reports and backlash, I forgot which atp, virtual1979 began perhaps the worst tagging spree of the fic's life by changing the title, many of the tags, and the summary to a slew of racial slurs, sexually explicit imagery, and other generally offensive statements. I'm pretty sure this came after the fic was temporarily hidden once, as this update gained considerably less attention than the rest of the tagging saga, but people were still rightfully pissed about it. Ultimately, like I mentioned before, the author was then suspended for a month for wishing covid and death on her haters, and attention seemed to die down during this time to the point where she didn't really fight much more when her suspension ended and deleted her account and the work shortly after. Again she seems to have moved to dreamwidth, but most have forgotten her and I'm not sure if her presence is public at all on there. But that's the story of the worst mdzs fic ever written

[inchidentally]

https://x.com/charlclerc/status/1749478427239891090?s=20

I think someone here missed the sight of a soaked Oscar <3

ok so big shock!! I'm gonna use this sweet little morsel of Lando pausing in his remaining winter break to look back on that glorious day

to create an absolute smorgasbord of what Suzuka meant to him and to Oscar

I've edited together the most chewable parts of the post race press conference tho tbh it's mostly just removing the parts where Max tries his best to put a slight new twist on answering the exact same questions as last weekend lgflajsg.

so at the start I love the little private smile Lando and Oscar share when Max's fanfare is going on - it gives me a little rueful but also slightly creepy twinning vestal virgins au like are we going to destroy him Lando? yes we are going to destroy him Oscar

(I AM NOT BEING SERIOUS IT'S JUST JOKES).

which is even funnier with what Max leads into about seeing these two goddamn McLarens sandwiching him and for a split second thinking ah so they want to destroy me? oh dear. like Max is very at home on that couch but the presence of these two creatures sharing covert smiles with each other has him (and probably a lot of that room) uneasily wondering if that's all y'know, normal and above board? they're not like... witches, right? haha. crazy!

and I think the cool meticulous way Lando treats his own performance is a really good example of how (in my opinion!) his self-flagellation does need to be reeled in because he's never the sort to be soaring high enough to compensate for those lowest lows. for a while I was undecided but honestly I agree with Martin Brundle, Jenson Button and Oscar who've said (in different ways and indirectly from Oscar) that Lando is far too level-headed and race smart to be hanging his own tender hide out like he does. I so appreciate how measured he was in self-approval over his back to back podiums and no one's asking him to get cocky, but I'd really love to see him match this approach to when he struggles as a driver (and not just a car issue which was the case pre Silverstone).

contrast that with Oscar discussing his own self-criticisms of the weekend but equally saying he'll still relish the maiden podium. and crucially that he can fairly put at least part of his struggles - which he was also meticulous about - down to this being his first time racing at Suzuka. an anon sent an ask about Andrea praising Oscar specifically for his performance there and you can really feel the influence Andrea has had throughout the season on Oscar. because before Silverstone, Oscar had a tendency to monotone lowness and disappointment in himself that bordered dangerously on bitterness and maybe even a fear/doubt of how his rookie season would indeed turn out? but Andrea's approach of optimism, faith in teamwork and specifically in making sure Oscar was looked after while Lando naturally performed so much better, absolutely sank in.

and it makes sense that Oscar as a rookie has so much more mental plasticity when it comes to outside influence - and says a lot about Andrea's leadership too. it's where I wish Lando could have had Andrea as principal from day one too. bc understandably, Lando has graduated to that level of knowing himself so well as a driver relative the drivers around him that there's an existing almost prejudice about himself that the people in charge of guiding him have to overcome.

literally everyone who knows and who matters has said how similar Lando and Oscar are in terms of their approach to the car and their dedication to the team. and I know Andrea has shielded Lando in his own way by saying that it's a champion's mentality to have as much passion and emotion as Lando does. but - and this is honestly such a great piece about Andrea go read it and thank you again to @mecachrome for repping him so much - he also emphasized the positivity that was so crucial to pushing the team through those awful early races. I don't at all blame Lando for getting a bit grim toward himself at times thinking not only about that first race win but also the championship. but I also really hope that between Andrea and Oscar (source: Lando himself!) he can use the lifts of his highs to not sink so low anymore.

skipping back to around the minute mark when Lando says how much more this second place means to him than Singapore because of the double podium and also because of his own performance being better. not to get too ~contentious~ but this is why I really have needed the Singapore high to wear off as fast as it did for Lando when people are discussing Lando's 2023 as a driver and not as part of a ship. absolutely still revel in it in an rpf sense! but like, real life Lando is intensely loyal to his team and y'know what else? he's intensely loyal to loyalty. which is precisely what Oscar has been proving to McLaren since signing that pre-contract the summer before. it took an entire court case for Oscar to get to McLaren and he was met with a wall of hate coming from three sides. comment sections were filled with people celebrating McLaren's 2023 initial struggles and vilifying Oscar for how much he was costing them (in every sense) for paying out Daniel. and it was the Suzuka weekend when Oscar agreed immediately to extend his contract further.

Lando had a front row seat for all of that once the season started. and considering how few races Oscar's dad and Lily were able to make due to being on the other side of the world and final year of school respectively, Oscar spent a fair amount of that time getting to grips with being in F1, and the particular pressure and stress from media and fans, largely alone in terms of a private life. so it says so much about how well he was repaid by the team and also by Lando for keeping his cool and putting in the extra hours and keeping the faith.

and around 2 mins "we have two drivers up fighting for those positions" "we can help one another and use one another". that tandem the two of them have achieved before the season is even over was largely formed when the car was fighting against them. as was the case with Carlos and then Daniel and truly every other F1 driver, Lando did NOT have to intervene or take on a specific responsibility toward Oscar. F1 drivers aren't pack animals, they move through their careers alone and are happy if they can be buddies with their partner. so to see Lando as the number one show faith in Oscar and stand up for him and receive that trust and faith in return is so unique. Lando controlled that as much as Andrea did - maybe even more considering how he says he feels Oscar is so similar to him in a lot of ways. it's not uncommon for charismatic guys like Lando, Carlos and Daniel to make friends with their team mate.

but I think the whole "Lando effect" thing has actually been a huge disservice to what Lando has put into the partnership with Oscar. in this interview early on in the season, he says how Oscar is really quiet and that it's just how most people are in their first year and "we'll change him". but as we've seen, Oscar didn't end up changing and funnily enough the hanging out he and Lando do off the track has been as private and only alluded to as the rest of Oscar's private life. Lando got a lot of Oscar on his camera (again, a lot we haven't gotten to see yet) but really there was no big transformation in terms of Oscar becoming one of the charismatic personalities of the grid. and yet he and Lando only got closer and more supportive of each other in all the ways that matter to a partnership. so I think it's a much bigger credit to Lando that he learned to understand Oscar's personality better and still found ways to establish that sense of trust and loyalty without a bromance or a bunch of common interests to act as glue.

when they do that slightly eerie, intense active listening when the other is speaking, it's them having a synchronicity that has nothing to do with how guys usually bond. (that's why my vestal virgins au yes I know it's weird)

Lando wasn't in any position of power for any of that to be relevant with Carlos or Daniel - Carlos was so far advanced already in his career and Daniel had his thing going on w McLaren that Lando had no control over (and rightly didn't respond to people demanding he show some kind of shame?? or partake in the blame). so loyalty never really played a part in his partnerships with those two, whereas (and maybe as a result of that) Lando's loyalty to McLaren as a team only grew each season. so seeing someone close to his own age but far behind in experience, work so hard and prove so early on that he wants to stay, absolutely brought out a pride from Lando for Oscar that I really hope he will also extend to himself more. major Zak Brown levels of back pats to Lando.

and side note but it needs to no longer be a question or point of contention when Lando says that Silverstone and then the double podiums are superior races for him. Lando loves his F1 buddies, absolutely. but Lando didn't burn through junior championships by favoring his buddies. he loves racing and his team more. and he sure didn't get that second place podium in Singapore because of a buddy, it was because of the position he'd put himself in. just like how Carlos would have given DRS to anyone behind him who was on older tires like he was to ensure that win. like, let's remember the manic obsession that has brought these men to where they are. buddies are a part-time thing. rpf is my meat and drink but I'll never confuse it up with that reality lol.

4:45 the Senna-Prost comparison - and I could probably get all deep about the youngest generation referring to those old bitter alpha male rivalries as something long gone (but I won't). but it's a really good call-back to Monza and the coming together because there's Oscar's ability to see his performance clearly and where it went wrong for him leading to that third place and not higher. and god, I am in no way saying that it's possible to compare Lando being in his fifth season without a race win to a rookie celebrating his first podium. I just really hope that Lando reminds himself that he's come of age in F1 in the Max Verstappen era and that in the cool down room at Qatar, Oscar giddily thanked Mercedes for clearing a path for him. that it doesn't always have to be pure perfection and pace to keep him afloat. sometimes points are points and serendipity plays her part.

"I've been drowned by Lando in champagne" god I will never be over Lando's smug toothy smile

and I will also never be over the way Lando went from clearly dreading being the "older/experienced" teammate and not knowing what to make of Oscar's quiet, reserved personality, to the intense proprietary authority of practically holding Oscar up by his collar like a prize cat in Suzuka and saying "this is mine! I helped make this what it is! look how good this is!"

all while baptizing him in champagne <3

[thelovelylolly]

Joel Miller/Tommy Miller x Reader where she finds an old Sphynx (hairless ugly thing lol, but so affectionate) cat and carries him in her hoodie to keep him warm. Joel wonders why she's being shifty/what she's hiding. And isn't impressed when she finally shows him.

-

This is super random but I would miss my adopted Sphynx sooo much if I was thrown into the last of us universe 🙈😭 he's too domesticated to live as a stray lol he wears clothes (even legwarmers 🤣) and sleeps in my bed or inside my hoodie all day 🤣

Hope you're well x

Can We Keep Him?

Summary: You find a Sphynx cat while traveling with Joel, who doesn't want it. Warnings: post-outbreak, not proofread bc my own cats kept me up last night and im tired, let me know if i missed anything! Notes: i. love. cats. thats it thats the note

You and Joel stumbled upon an abandoned gas station and strip mall while making your way to your next trading spot. You two decided to split up and raid the abandoned buildings so you wouldn't waste too much time. You went into the gas station while Joel looked through the other buildings. It was already pretty picked over, but every once in a while, you would find something useful or just interesting.

You were walking through the dirty isles when you heard a crunch from the back. You immediately turned around, but saw nothing. You grabbed your flashlight and pistol, readying them as you two slow steps towards the sound. Another crunch and a rustle come from the back. You got closer and closer, pausing for a moment before turning the corner to prepare yourself. You didn't want to deal with infected.

You quickly turned the corner and aimed your flashlight at the noise. Two blue eyes stared back at you as you lowered your gun and flashlight. A Sphynx cat was just munching on some random food that was left, and probably expired.

"Aw, hey little guy," you cooed, putting your pistol in your waistband and crouching down in front of the cat. You carefully stuck your hand out to him, letting him sniff at your hand before rubbing his head against your hand. You gave him some scratches on his wrinkly little head as he walked closer to you.

"Will you let me take you?" You asked him when he put his front paws on his knees. He meowed at you and you picked him up, standing up with him in your arms.

You carefully opened your hoodie up and he instantly hopped in, happy for the warmth. You giggled and he stuck his head out, licking your chin.

"You gotta hide, buddy. I don't know if Joel will like you," you said, gently pushed his head back down. You made sure he was comfortable, then left the gas station to regroup with Joel.

----

Joel knew something was off with you. As you two continued on your way, your arms stayed wrapped around your torso and you didn't take your hoodie off, no matter how hot you were getting. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn't. So, he stopped walking and turned to face you.

"What's going on?" He asked.

Your eyes widened and you quickly looked away from Joel. "Nothing, why?"

"You're acting weird."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Joel, I'm not, okay?"

He stepped closer, his hands going to his hips. "You really wanna do this?"

You sighed and rolled your eyes. You opened your hoodie up and carefully took the Sphynx cat you found out, cradling him in your arms. Joel was, at first, shocked you were able to hide the little guy so easily, then disappointed. Of course you picked up a stray cat, a hairless, wrinkly one at that.

"Where did you find that?" Joel asked.

"The gas station," you replied. "He was just too cute to leave and he immediately started to love on me, so..."

"Okay, first, he is not that cute. Kinda ugly, to be honest. Second, why on earth did you pick up a stray cat? You don't know what kinda diseases he has."

"I don't care, and he is cute! Can we keep him? Please?"

"No," Joel answered sharply.

"C'mon, Joel. Can you really say no to this face?" You replied, holding the cat out to Joel.

"Yes, I can. He's not a cute cat."

"He is! Plus, where are we gonna leave him that's safe?" You added. "Please, Joel? Just until we find a better place for him?"

Joel took a deep breath and grumbled something as he ran a hand across his face.

"Fine. We can keep him, but when we find a good place to leave him, that's it," he said before turning and continuing on your path.

"Yes!" You cheered quietly as you quickly followed Joel. "Now, what should we call him?"

"Dear lord," Joel grumbled, already regretting letting you keep the cat.

[ask-frater-imperator]

// now that I'm able to post spoilers, here's my thoughts on rite here rite now a few hours after I saw it.

First: a little context.

I went with my mother, my ghestie and my best friend who knew nothing about ghost besides the ranting she heard from me weekly.

They will probably be seeing this- so I'm not going to expose their accounts or anything.

With that, here were my thoughts:

.

The post credit scene and mummy dust is just

Implanted into my head now

Mummy dust bc me and my friends went batshit crazy hearing and watching it

I LITERALLY PREDICTED KISS THE GO-GOAT

I'm like "oh yeah they better do kiss the go-goat I need to see that live." THEN THE INTRO STARTS

I had my ghestie friend and another of my friend that had no idea of any of the ghost lore

But

WE CONVERTED HER!! /j

I really hope they make a DVD version or something bc i would sell my soul for it

I'm kinda disappointed they didn't use the boxer fit for anything much..

TOBIAS THREW US FOR A LOOP BC WTF

We all saw copia get on the hot air balloon and is like WAIT WAIT FUCK. NO. NO. and then he wakes up

Seeing his mother die

Also if the new guy isn't terzo I

I may just die

Bc

WHO ARE THEY GONNA PULL OUT THEIR ASS AGAIN JUST LIKE

OH YEAH THEY EXIST NOW

NO WONDER TOBIAS SAID NONE OF THE OTHER PAPAS MATTER, MF COPIA IS THE HEAD OF THE MINISTRY NOW-

When the post credit ended everyone in the theater was like please wait, no-

AND ALL YELLED IN ANGER

honestly so funny and ppl were so nice

I don't like I've ever met a rude ghost fan tbh AND I DONT PLAN ON IT!!!

.

And my thoughts after reading it again:

I honestly don't mind if the new papa isn't terzo, Yes, his album is my favorite with many good songs, but if the theory isn't right then oh well

There is a confirmed DVD and digital release. Just no idea when I will be getting the DVD, and I will be passing it down for generations to see/j

Me, my ghestie and my clueless friend were all holding hands for at least 3/4th of the movie, the reason I will remember mummy dust the most is because me and my ghesite went feral.. and my other friend was, well, clueless. TOBIAS LET MARY GOORE THE FUCK OUT. FINALLY!!!

The shirt I wore was literally copia being crucified with a crown of thorns, I WAS EXPECTING HIM TO DIE. but, I am very glad he didn't, I'm honestly stoked because now he does have the power he wanted, and I can totally rp that..

(The shirt I wore)

When mummy dust was done, we were all simping for copia.. (pls dont judge us. We are just little guys../j)

I had to hold back a scream when the mummy dust solo started, I love the ghoulettes..

I was so sad when copia was like: "no, no, no encore." Bc I really wanted to hear kiss the go-goat (it was one of my favorites when I first got into ghost)

THEN RAIN SPOKE. IM SORRY??!?!

Then I said over to my friends something like: "Yeah, i need them to do an encore.. NEED to hear, kiss the go-goat live, or I will sob." And of course, THE INTRO TO KISS THE GO-GOAT STARTED. Me and my friends and I just lit up with joy, trying not to cry from what I had just said and what happened.

I remember Square Hammer and the midair splits. The whole theater gasped at the same time. At that point, I was in tears for the 273673rd time. I saw copia do the pose he was meant to, and cried even more.

He went to the hot-air balloon, and everyone was silent. We all saw him wake up, and then sister on the floor.

I remember my friend (clueless one) commenting about copias dramatic crying over sisters' bodies. "Oh yeah, that guy knows how to act!" Joking in a good way, I laughed through my tears.

I don't remember when, but when Copia talked about taint tickling, she audibly, but quietly gasped and whispered something as I just nodded.

MARY ON A CROSS WAS BEAUTIFUL. THERE IS NO DENYING THE SCOOBY-DOO CHASE MUSIC NOW!!

It felt like you were there in the audience, like you were right there in the pit. I'm so glad that this movie is making so much in box offices. It was like an unholy experience I will never forget.