#Deranged Marriage (3) - Like hell

[holylulusworld]

Deranged Marriage (3) - Like hell

Summary: Your father wants you to choose a husband. Your chosen one doesn’t like the idea one bit.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x (Mafia daughter)! Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers, your father, Clint Barton, Peggy Carter

Warnings: arranged marriage, language, unwilling groom, angst, Bucky being an ass, strong/bratty reader, banter, hand around throat, sexual tension, idiots in love

Deranged Marriage masterlist

<< Part 2

“Give me something I can work with. Y/F/N wants me to marry his daughter,” Bucky grunts. “No, he forces me into marriage with her. You must find something I can use against her.”

“Buck, what did she do this time,” Steve chuckles as his friend grumbles under his breath. “Come on, humor me, my friend. I want to know how she got under your skin this time.”

“She accused me of—” Bucky sneers. “That little brat said I got a small dick. How dare she! She said that all I’m capable of is robbing grannies and shit.”

“Ah, she bruised your ego,” the blonde snickers. He can’t believe his friend doesn’t see that it would be so much easier if only Bucky admitted he got a thing for you. “You hurt her at the party. I’m telling you again to not push her too far.”

“But she…she makes me so mad. That audacity! She wants to force me into marriage. Maybe she’ll even try to turn me into a houseman or crap.”

“You’ll make a terrible houseman. You can’t even cook,” Steve says. “Well, maybe if you wear nothing but a kiss the cook apron you can make up for your lack of talent.”

“You’re not helpful, Steve.”

“I don’t try to be helpful. Buck, leave the girl alone or marry her. There is no halfway,” the blonde puts his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Y/N got no friends left thanks to you.”

“What are you doing, sweetie?” your father watches you sit on one of the old worn-out leather armchairs at the library once again.

Since your latest encounter with Lavender, you doubt your character. Maybe she was right to be afraid of you and your family. You never killed anyone, but your father did. All the people you know are criminals and you are fairly sure it’s not normal to sleep with a gun hidden underneath your pillow.

“Nothing,” you shrug. “I just wanted to read one of the books I bought. Is all.”

“What about your friends?” he softly asks. Your father knows something must be wrong between you and Lavender. He hasn’t heard her name for a while and his men told him about the little fire you made the other day.

“I got no friends,” you sniffle. “I never had any friends, dad. You know that. Lavender only pretended to be my friend. She was afraid of you and me…”

“She…what?” he sits on the other armchair, the one belonging to your mother once upon a time. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Being my daughter must’ve been tough for you.”

“You always were a good father,” you give him a cracked smile. “I’m a little lonely, is all. All the fun I had with my friends and all the memories are tainted now. Barnes forced me to open my eyes and now, there is no turning back.”

“I should kill him.”

“He’s not worth it,” dropping your gaze you try to hide the tears in your eyes. “I wanted him because I—”

“I know, sweetie,” your father sighs deeply. “You’re right, he’s not worth it. If you want me to call the wedding off, say the words.”

“I want him to suffer. If I cannot get happy, he won’t feel happy in his life ever again,” you purse your lips. “He’ll make a nice arm candy, won’t he?”

Your father laughs loudly as you give him a devilish smile. “All for you, sweetie. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Good. I want a party to announce my engagement with James Buchanan Barnes, my newest arm candy. He’ll regret rejecting and hurting me. I’ll make that bastard suffer, that’s a matter of fact.”

“Uh-looks like you won’t get out of this now, huh?” Steve looks at the invitation your father sent to him and Peggy. “Fuck, he wants to throw a party and invited the whole fucking mob!”

“That’s her! I swear she’s a she-demon, a devil in disguise,” Bucky rips the invitation he got into pieces. “I won’t attend that party. She can’t force me to marry her. That brat!”

“What goes around comes back around, Buck. If only you treated the girl with some respect she wouldn’t fight back. And I can tell, she fights dirty.”

Steve can barely hold back a chuckle. “Stop defending her. You are my friend.”

“I’m your friend. But you have to admit, you shouldn’t have embarrassed the poor girl at the party. She cried Bucky. You were cruel, and you know it.”

“She declared that I must marry her at the party! I did what I had to do Steve,” Bucky grunts. “Fine. If she wants to fight dirty, I’ll fight even dirtier.”

“You look beautiful tonight,” you smile as your father sways with you to the music. “Your fiancé should be here soon enough. I hope he’ll behave this time.”

“He’ll make a scene, you know it,” closing your eyes you lean your head against your father’s shoulder. “Barnes won’t give in so easily. Maybe this was a stupid idea.”

“You wanted to show him who’s in charge,” your father reminds you. “Don’t back down now. He must learn his place. If not, you can look for someone you like more.”

“I want what you and mom had, daddy,” you whisper. “Do you think Barnes can give me that? I don’t think so.”

“Sir, you should see this,” Clint, one of your father’s men says. “I’m sorry, we tried to stop him.”

“What’s the matter?” you lift your head and dip it to follow your father’s eyes. 

“You’ve got the be shitting me,” your father growls. “He cannot disrespect my daughter like this.”

You huff and shake your head. Bucky just walked into the ballroom, a petite blonde, and a busty redhead in his arms. He smirks darkly before he dips his head to kiss the blonde.

“He’s an asshole, I knew that already,” you hold back a sob. Behind your fake smile, you hide the hurting very well. You’ll never admit it, but deep down inside you had hoped Bucky would change his mind.

“Clint, get Rumlow and Lang,” your father barks orders at Clint. “I want Barnes to feel the pain tonight. He’ll never disrespect my daughter ever again.”

“I’ve got this,” you clear your throat and straighten your back. “Let me do this.”

Your father watches you walk to the middle of the room, ignoring Bucky and the girls hanging on his every word.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” you raise your voice to get everyone’s attention. The room falls silent as all eyes are on you. “Thank you for coming here. Tonight, we wanted to celebrate my engagement but—”

You take a deep breath. There is no turning back now. If you want to hit Bucky Barnes, you’ll do it hard, fast, and without mercy. You’ll hit him where it hurts the most.

His ego.

“I changed my mind,” you fake a dramatic sigh. “You see, I’ll need a true leader by my side. Dangerous, strong, smart, and, loyal. And most importantly, a potent man able to give me an heir. I’m my father’s legacy and I want this empire to live on. Sadly, my chosen fiancé cannot give me this.”

The room falls completely silent. It seems like everyone holds their breath as Bucky drops his arms from around the girls. He glares at you, murder in his eyes.

“So, enjoy the party. There will be no engagement for the time being,” you clap your hands. “Now, eat, drink and celebrate our way of life.”

You smirk at Bucky before turning on your heels. He can never know that he hurt you deeply once again.

“Fuck—shit…fuck…” Steve stammers as you leave the ballroom. “I should do something. Right? He’s going to kill someone tonight. I’m afraid it’s Y/N.”

“She just ripped him a new one,” Peggy chuckles. “I love that girl. She has balls…I give her that.”

You’re sitting at the library, reading yet another book, when the next thing you know, Bucky walks into the room, slamming the door shut.

You didn’t hear him coming due to the music blaring from downstairs, and he scares the shit out of you as he storms toward you.

“YOU ARE DEAD!” 

You huff and turn your attention back toward the book in your hands. If only you can ignore him for a little longer, you can go back to licking your wounds.

“You got what you wanted. I don’t want to marry you any longer. You’re free of me, Barnes. I don’t do small dicks or selfish pricks.”

“I’ll kill you,” for a man his size he moves pretty fast. You can’t even gasp before his hand is around your throat; the metal one. He forces you to look up at him. “Look at me, bitch. You are dead.”

“Be a man and do it,” you choke against his hand. He squeezes a little harder, eyes dilated and lips parted. “Kill me and you are a dead man.”

Bucky leans closer, nose brushing your cheek as he holds your throat in a tight grip. 

“I killed people for less,” he snarls in your ear. “You just don’t give up. I knew you are trouble. What do I have to do to get you off my back?”

“It was your choice, Barnes,” you push against his shoulders. “How dare you bring those wenches to my home! You disrespected me, my father, and my home first.”

“Big talk for such a weak little girl,” his hand wanders a little lower, thumb brushing your skin on its way. “If I squeeze just a little harder, you’ll never wake.”

“Do it,” you pucker your lips. “If you are man enough. Come on, you are good at hurting and embarrassing me. Why don’t you end it like a man?”

“Fucking brat,” he groans against your cheek, lips almost brushing your skin. “I should kill you. You deserve to get punished and…no. This would be too easy. I will make you pay for this.”

“Oh, I’m scared,” you challenge. “Do your worst, Barnes…”

>> Part 4

Tags in reblog.

[gutsby]

Wedded Bliss

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.

You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frankly, you were mortified.

And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”

Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.

You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,

“Put it down.”

You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.

Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.

“Are we done?”

Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.

You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.

“Now darling—” he started.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Light of my life—”

“I’ll kill you.”

Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.

Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.

Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.

His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.

“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”

You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.

“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.

“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”

You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,

“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”

That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.

“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.

“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.

At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.

“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.

A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.

“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”

It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.

Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.

“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.

At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.

Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.

Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.

The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.

“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.

“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.

“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”

Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.

“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.

You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’

No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.

What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.

“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”

Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.

“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”

“I don’t fuck strangers.”

Bucky smiled at that.

“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.

Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.

“You like skylines?” he asked.

You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.

“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.

Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.

You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.

“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.

Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.

Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.

“James,” you hissed.

Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why are you undressing me?”

Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.

“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.

The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.

“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”

You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?

“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”

Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.

The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.

“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”

You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.

“James!”

Again with that name.

“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”

Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.

“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.

“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.

Like he’d read your mind.

In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.

“Just let it happen, honey.”

He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.

Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.

Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:

“N-no, Bucky.”

To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.

He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.

“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.

“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”

The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.

Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.

A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.

“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.

His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.

You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.

“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”

His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.

He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.

Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.

And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.

When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.

Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.

He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.

Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.

Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.

“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.

You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.

Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”

In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.

Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?

It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.

You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.

“Open the fucking door!”

He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.

Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.

One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.

You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.

Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.

You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.

“What are you doing?!” he roared.

You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.

He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.

“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”

No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.

The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.

“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.

“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:

Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!

Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.

“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.

Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.

“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.

He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.

“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”

That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.

“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”

His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.

You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.

The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.

“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.

“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.

Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.

This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.

Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

At last, the tie loosened a little.

Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.

“What?”

You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.

“You’re a virgin?”

You nodded.

“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”

“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”

He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.

“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.

As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.

You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.

You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.

Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.

Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.

He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:

“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”

Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.

“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.

“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.

For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.

While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.

How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.

Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.

Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.

Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.

Any minute now, he thought with some relief.

Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.

A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.

Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.

You barged in and froze.

“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.

Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.

Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.

Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.

He was only met with silence.

Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.

The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.

“James?”

Your voice almost pained.

A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”

Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.

Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.

Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.

“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”

If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.

Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.

Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.

“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.

Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.

You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.

“James.”

“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.

At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,

“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”

Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.

“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.

You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.

You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.

His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.

Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.

“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.

“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.

“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.

Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.

A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.

He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.

Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.

No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?”

Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.

“Okay.”

Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.

You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.

Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.

Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.

His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?

When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.

Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.

You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.

Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.

Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.

Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.

You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.

Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?

Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.

Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.

Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.

You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.

He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.

“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”

He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.

You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.

“Keep going, I’m good.”

Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“N—”

“Don’t lie.”

You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.

“Aw hell.”

The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.

He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.

“I didn’t wanna interrup—”

“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”

Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”

Bucky eyed you incredulously.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.

You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.

“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.

“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”

It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.

The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.

When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.

“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”

He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.

When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.

The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?

Bucky paused. Swallowed.

The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.

“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.

Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.

“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.

This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.

“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.

“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.

He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.

“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.

You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.

“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.

Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.

“Doll, I’m so sorry.”

The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.

When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.

The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Stretching so nice for this cock.”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.

Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.

“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”

An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.

“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.

Your cheeks flushed.

“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”

‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.

“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.

You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.

“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”

You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.

“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”

Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.

“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”

You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.

“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.

Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.

Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.

“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.

“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.

“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”

Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.

Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.

You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.

“One more for me, honey.”

You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?

Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.

“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“Sure you can.”

Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.

His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,

“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”

With a command like that, how could you refuse?

You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.

But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.

It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.

The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.

“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.

You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.

“I love you.”

You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.

“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.

You would’ve liked to speak.

Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.

In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.

The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.

Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.

“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.

When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.

“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.

“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”

[malewifeharem]

YK I WAS TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT OM STOOD FOR.. ANYWAY CAN WE GET BELPHIE IN THE YAN ALPHABET HOUSE PLEASE :3 ☁️

yandere!belphegor alphabet

彡- ,, yandere om! belphegor alphabet (template from @dear-yandere eheheheh)

cw ⁞ OMSWD CHAPTER 16 SPOILERS, death threats, violence, manipulation, just general yandere behaviour??? not proofread.

an ⁞ lmk if there are any other warnings i should add!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

he loves cuddling and napping with you. it may not seem like he loves you — the only sign of affection you receive, being cuddles and naps. but trust me, his love for you is INTENSE... he has slaughtered many people for you. past lovers, bullies, any and all who have wronged you.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

he's willing to eliminate anyone for you. it can get very messy... lucifer has had to call for help to clean up evidence before. although his older brother tries his best to clean up after him, word still got out about the youngest's aggressive tendencies — simply because he leaves too many crime scenes behind, it's almost impossible to clean them all in such a short time. he's probably thought of eradicating the whole of purgatory hall and diavolo's castle too.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

100%. you've heard him call you the meanest names before. he will always remind you of your place as a human —you'll always be inferior to him, like his little pet.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

putting you to sleep when and wherever he likes. arguing with him? go to sleep, maybe you'll start talking sense when you wake. out in public? he suddenly feels like you've spent too long outside, go to sleep, he'll take you home.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

he doesn't tell you much, other than reports of only some of his victims. he keeps most of his carnal, deranged thoughts to himself. you're still well aware of his mania through his actions but you'll never know how deep his violent rabbit hole goes.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

if he's in a good mood, he might play along, just don't take it too far. if he's not, he'll lazily warn you first. if that doesn't work, he'll threaten you — reminding you of what he's done, what he can always do. if you decide to continue being a 'brat', he won't hesitate to wring your neck — not too harshly, he still needs to keep you around.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

he thinks it's amusing. he forces you test his limits and wear skimpy clothes out and visit the dangerous places he's warned you about. he'll let you go out and 'have your fun' but he's stalking your every move — like you're his prey. he likes feeling jealous of the other people around you so he can 'reclaim' you back at home. (read N for what happens at home hehe)

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

you went too far with your 'teasing' one night and it ended in him strangling you with his tail again. you were seeing all black, your struggling limbs almost giving out on you. you genuinely thought you were going to succumb to the same demon again, but he eventually let go of you. it took you awhile to recover — laying on the floor, having a coughing fit and your vision still barely coming back. he stared down at you before letting out a satisfied "hmph." maybe you'll learn your lesson this time.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

believe it or not, he does imagine marriage with you. you, walking down the aisle in a beautiful wedding dress, towards him. he'll prepare a ring for you once you've settled down with him and stop fighting back. (he won't be doing any chores in the rs)

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

he stirs up his own feelings of jealousy so it's kind of his fault. he likes possessing you and claiming you as his. whether or not its by punishments or marking you physically. (should i make a nsfw continuation of this...?)

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

he loves the scent of you —stealing pieces of your clothing to smell and sleep with. he'll stick his nose as deep into your neck as he can to get the essence of you into his system. this is part of why he loves cuddling and napping with you too — holding you closely and wrapping his tail and limbs around you.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

he does get broody if you hang out around other people other than beel. anyone else from HoL, purgatory hall and especially diavolo and barbatos are completely off limits to you. before he started acted aggressively, he would defensively lurk around you to make sure no one got too affectionate with you. when you notice him, he has to clutch his shirt to stop his thumping heart from beating out of his chest. surely this means you appreciate his protection!

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

nope. he acts aggressively towards everyone but beel. everyone close to the brothers are aware of his hostility and have tried reasoning with him before but has basically given up. diavolo has tried restraining the youngest brother again but lucifer has promised to keep his violence at bay.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

oh... he's cruel. if he's lenient, he'll give you nightmares in your sleep. if you've been disobedient, good luck... he'll wrap his tail around your neck, giving it a tight squeeze — reminding you of your previous end. you never know if he'll actually take your life again — that's what's most scary. he knows how much it terrifies you but he's a demon baby, it's what they do.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

your health is constantly at risk after your body has had to endure multiple chokings but proper healthcare isn't available to you. the only medication you'll get is some ointment meant for demon burns.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

it depends on his mood. he's very unpredictable, with his patience levels fluctuating very often — making him all the more dangerous.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

he would be in a state of pure disbelief for months, hallucinating and dreaming versions of you. then, he'll move onto finding ways to bring you back or pray that you'll return back to him in hell. (we all goin to hell for even reading this bffr)

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

although he lets you roam around devildom somewhat freely, he'll never completely let go of you. you're his to keep and possess.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

being locked up in the attic created attachment issues in him. he finds a need to claim you and feel wanted by you. when you come running back to him, he feels euphoria — even if you're forced to.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

he feels uneasy, not knowing how to confront the situation directly so he uses the only method he knows. putting you to sleep is the easiest way for him to sedate you and calm you down. isolating yourself breaks his heart but he'll try his best to break your defensive stance and get you to come and cuddle to ease the tension away.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

(i'll skip this since i still dont't know the definition of a classic yandere TT)

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

if you could somehow find a way to possess a spell book, you could try finding a way to create a clone of you while the real you goes to find diavolo or barbatos. they have the authority and power to guard you from him and lock him back in that attic. lucifer will definitely be disappointed that he's failed to protect you again but you've had enough.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

yes. (read F and N)

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

he treasures whatever affection you spare him and he secretly worships the ground you walk on. he doesn't try to win you over because there is no one for him to compete for him the begin with! none of them can fight him if they're all six feet below ground.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

he could only stand watching you from afar for a few months before snapping. he couldn't go on any longer without you in his room, in his arms, under his control and claim.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

yes yes yes and yes. he doesn't care if you lose your mind, then you'll be even more susceptible to his manipulation. you'll be much more obedient and finally stop whining and struggling all the damn time!

[silviakundera]

started kdrama Love Song For Illusion because I know too much about the webtoon. Under no circumstances is it a work of art but it's wild as all hell and that's fun. If you felt a certain thrill at Perfect Marriage Revenge careening through deranged plot, top down with a breeze in its hair, then boy do I have another jewel 4 you.

The Absolute Worst Guy takes over the country, murders FL's entire mansion, and his son does not enjoy any of it, especially since he would prefer to stay home and make dresses. Then the kid gets possessed. 10 years later, the king is infamous as a tyrant & big orgy fan, the crown prince is still sanity impaired, and FL is all grown up and ready for her revenge quest.

At first consideration, oh I do enjoy a male love interest who's sensitive, repelled by violence, and just wants to be left alone to design & sew women's clothing. But then at the end of the day I prefer proactive, action-oriented characters. I met the dark spirit possessed version and said YES. THAT ONE. ❤

It's absolutely, shamelessly gonzo. And the king is chewing scenery and giving it his all, just like evil step mommy on Perfect Marriage Revenge.

But the one drawback is that I'm only starting ep 3 and I'm already losing my patience that FL doesn't know the crown prince has 2 separate personalities. I'm not saying she should jump to assuming possession. But she should be guessing secret twin or split personality "madness" pretty soon. It's just too obvious that he acts like 2 different people who don't share memories. This is gonna really get on my nerves. Please figure out that it's not just a prince being moody. 🙏 I would definitely jump to "secret royal twin' if I were her.

[world-fire-entity]

Tmagp ships rating (2/25/24) >TMAGP7

Up to TMAGP 7 because im going mentally unwell waiting for thursday. Legit all the ones I've seen while deep browsing through twitter. (/traumatic)

Chester X Norris - 10/10 Canon tbh The worst computer Viruses They beat up Jonah Magnus in the computer and that's why he doesn't talk much

Alice x Collin - 9/10 Collin can pine for Alice, I will die before Alice pines for Collin Alice is way out of his league Collins the type of guy to act like season 2 Jon but then also get haunted by worms, the circus, the stranger, and the lonely while Alice scrolls on pinterest to alt Alice x Gwen - 50/10 Bouchard has a SUCH a chance compared to Collin but I will never let Alice pine so she's gonna have to do the leg work. Which I think she'll be fine with because rich noble people Honestly, Alice knows more than she lets on and Bouchard is hungering for knowledge. Ones uptight and the others chill. They can help eachother out and it'd be cute. I think this could be toxic on both sides Collin x Gwen - 3/10 None of them are pining I can only see them having a marriage of convenience (Taxes, Family pressure, money, etc), and then interacting once a week because they work in the same building. I can imagine Bouchard shooting Collin for some reason. Alice X Lena - 4/10 No clue how old Lena is but age gap in Lesbians is rare enough that I'll take it I feel like Alice and Lena are the only two people in the workplace that knows more than they let on so ig they could bond over that? I think they'd whisper cryptic hints to eachother of what they know to see which one breaks first to ask what the hell the other one means Sam x Collin - 8/10 They can become the two work nutcases together (They encourage paranoia and insanity in eachother) Nutcase x Nutcase They can combine their skills of IT derangement and plausible social skills to break into the magnus archives Sam x Alice - 7/10 Alice just trying to stop Sam from doing things she knows he'll regret Sam 100% feeling betrayed by Alice at some point Cute but in a, The whole relationship just feels so casual that it might as well not be there kinda way Chester x Collin - 4/10 Idk why you would ship this but I guess Collin being terrified of Chester and Chester potentially interacting with him regardless is a good work dynamic Augustus x Violin - 10/10 It was in r34. A friend sent me it and I sat there in DISBELEIF. Needles x Police officer - 9/10 Surprisingly cute Like needles comes to try and scare him the the police officer is not giving him the reaction he wants Idk maybe they team up to scare people to feed needles since needles is doing a shit job at it. Sam x Gwen - 7/10 I feel like Sam would lean into Bouchard's need for authority and through that get alot closer to her. And later on when the job gets too hard for Gwen to handle, Sam can step in. I think their personalities could mesh togehter Lena x Gwen - 3/10 Again, Age gap lesbians ig I think like a partners in crime duo? Mentor x Mentee Chester x Augustus - -1/10 Literally just for the Jonelias shippers but Elias doesnt have the hot voice anymore ;-; Or the body Or like, interactions with Chester In the future maybe

Gwen x Alice x Colin x Sam - 100/10 Poly

[ikjun]

omg al darling pls give me your queen of tears thoughts i’m really behind and need to know if it’s worth finishing <3

tbh i am also behind but i keep up with spoilers and episode recaps for everything i am watching bc i don't really care about getting spoiled. with that being said, where do i even begin? i would have loved if the show ended on a melodrama note in the second half, with the hong family having lost queens group but recouping that through baekhong's work as a lawyer and ceo respectively and with them rekindling their relationship (without marriage or another kid) while hae-in would, well, die due to some bout of medical realism that has to remain here, but with the two of them choosing each other in their lifetime, roll credits, fin. i am putting a read more from here on in bc this is sort of my thoughts on the show in general but also the second half, since describing the second half doesn't really work without talking about the set-up of the plot. plots? whatever is happening here. (also! spoilers ahead!)

of course we did not get a well-polished plot, something as sensible as this couldn't fly with the deranged fans this drama spawned like you wouldn't believe. so in a way this fanbase deserved exactly what they got lmao. this show has been crazy from the beginning bc as much as i love hae-in, people kept acting like she didn't treat hyun-woo like shit for most of their marriage when she did. he was only marginally better off, but my one big issue was that hyun-woo has to apolgize for everything he ever did, for wanting to divorce in the first place, while the show depicted right away how awful his marriage was. so now in the second half we, of course, get hyun-woo doing everything for hae-in to make up for all his audacity, like the good kdrama male lead he is (where is moon gang-tae when we need him? kim soo-hyun can act with some fire in there, so why does he not?) hae-in keeps getting worse and he is by her side, so whoo for tha ti guess and she does apologize for how she treated him after 10 eps of grovelling lmao. anyways.

they grow closer again while hae-in stays in the hospital for her treatment, but in comes mister i-still-want-to-be-cooked-over-an-open-fire-like-a-rotissiere-chicken eun-sung. i do have to say i love park sung-hoon in this drama? not as good as the psychotic bully-slash-killer-slash-second-woman he plays in the glory, but really good. it's giving kendall roy in sucession s2! it's giving this is why rich people tax middle class families until tax evasion or murder become lifestyle choices for those families! it's giving the rite of passage creepy high school boyfriend straight women go through amped up to the max! he is so good at being evil and he shines here, somehow, in all his creepy despondency and obsession with hae-in. at one point he swipes in and tells hae-in, who is losing her memory, that he saved her life and then he does it again, using the times hyun-woo's saved her as his cover story. he keeps rocking brown three-piece suits and a crazy-good blowout and side swoop while he does that, which might be the worst thing. hyun-woo punches him in the face, which is the saving grace of this entire second half of the show. he runs over hyun-woo with a car in the PENULTIMATE episode for the hell of it, because he can't see hyun-woo and hae-in be together again. the man is batshit insane and he stands by it.

as for the plot:

the head of the hong family (hae-in's grandfather) has a slush fund, because that is the second most realistic part of the show. eun-sung and his mother scrounge around to find it to take the rest of queens group, but well, i honestly don't care much about this plot. yang-gi (hyun-woo's best friend and divorce lawyer, who is apparently barred twice over in korea and can also hold up with business law and attorney work in court lol) helps lower hyun-woo's crazy ass charges, so he lives to see another day while everyone is looking for the goddamn slush fund. eun-sung and his mother found it first btw. hae-in keeps mistaking eun-sung for hyun-woo, her memory loss gets worse, we get it. several people working for eun-sung keep trying to kill hyun-woo over the span of the last five episodes. we get another reborn rich cameo from kim shin-rok, which at this point is the only thing keeping me from tuning out of this whacky ass drama. the hong family grandfather kills himself and all of kdrama twt and mdl are mad that the raised rating wasn't an explicit scene between baekhong but seeing an old man die (i kid you not). they keep trying to convince me kim soo-hyun was in the marine corps and i keep not believing it. german hospitals apparently can do life-saving surgeries on non-german citizens, which is unheard off in this neck of the woods but alas. hae-in has to trade in her memories to have that surgery, so that is our 11 o clock moment. or something. hyun-woo gets arrested by interpol right after, so there goes that dream. soo-cheol ends up with his wife again, which i care about as much as a tree cares about a leaf falling in a forest. big yawn. hyun-woo employs yang-gi again to beat the interpol charges and they do (yippie!). eun-sung keep acting like he's hae-in's husband after her memories disappeared and all of us know it's so deeply joever but the death bell has yet to strike. in comes the car crash bc we go two for two on car crashes in this show. eun-sung is now, after 15 episodes of washed up nonsense, pursued by the police bc nothing screams real crime like vehicular manslaughter in a kdrama. tried and true to the very end he goes!

haven't checked into ep 16 yet, but i know it ends with a montage of hae-in and hyun-woo together for more years, marrying again and having a child, and then hae-in dies. hyun-woo as an old man visits her grave in germany (potsdam doesn't allow graves on the grounds of sansoucie so i wonder where they supposedly put it?) and then we get a fade in of young hae-in leading now-deceased and young again hyun-woo to heaven in a field of lavender, goblin style minus the good writing. hyun-woo kept apologising for things until the end but don't ask me what it was about, i stopped caring. i assume that eun-sung lands in jail or something for his five billion crimes and all the times he wore light blue ties in this show. fin.

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here friend with my thoughts on Tuesday's episode and some other thoughts I'll get to. So the episode was amazing, emotional, so well acted, and basically hitting every kidnapped lover trope in the book to great effect. Slow, horrifying realization by their other half that something is wrong when no one else thinks so. Team up between them and a close relative who grounds them so they can crack the case. Kidnapped lover has a chance to escape but doesn't take it because it lead to

the other getting hurt. Performing CPR on the kidnapped lover because they FUCKING DIED!! Truly a glorious fanfiction come to life and I loved every moment of that part. It goes without saying that I would have gladly traded less Owen for more 126, but the TK and Gabriel team up was amazing. The serial killer aspects were pretty minimal so I didn't need to skip anything (ngl, after seeing the cookie thing in the preview i was terrified), hell Trudy was deranged but kinda sweet. So here we come to my salty thoughts so feel free to ignore if you want. As much as I loved the episode, it was hardly part of any sort of arc for Carlos, if we can even say that there was one. Aside from the basic setup, nothing in it relied on the previous 3 episodes. You could have had Tarlos fight for any reason and Carlos get kidnapped on a case and it would have played out the same way. So if there is any sort of arc for Carlos its in the previous 3 episodes, and I'm having trouble seeing it. An arc (to me) is character has a problem, things happen, resolution has character come out stronger on the other side (see the top tier Buck tsunami arc, Buck feels useless without his job, he saves Chris, discovers he has value to others outside his job.) So what was Carlos's arc? It was supposedly confronting his past but that didn't really happen. He's there for Iris when he thinks he hadn't been, but he would have been for any friend who went missing. If it was about confronting his reasons for getting married shouldn't we have seen a conversation with his parents? Right now the marriage thing isn't even necessary as backstory, we already knew Carlos had these issues in S2. If Tim was going to introduce 5 million plot holes with this info it needed a payoff. Maybe more will be said later in the season, till then i feel like 4x04 is a beautiful work of fan service to vaguely justify Tim's poorly thought out/executed headcanon.

Hello my friend and I'm sorry I'm so late getting to this! My mom had some issues at work and then got sick and then I got like, a weird (for me) amount of energy to Do Something Productive and spent about 6+ hours yesterday sorting The Box Of Important Papers I have been throwing shit into for years and I couldn't stop or I would never start again and it would remain half-sorted for the foreseeable future. But now I've got some time before I start anything else (or just lay around and read/recover for the rest of the day)!

The Tarlos of Tuesday's episode was sooooo so so good! We got delicious angst without being an over the top serial killer torture fest (and yeah Trudy was enabling her son but you can't look at the way he talked to her and tell me he wasn't abusing her and she wasn't just waiting to be the next one he killed the second she failed to "prove" her love for him. Also, am I the only one that assumed when she said his dad "left" and he burnt himself dissolving "something" that he murdered his dad? ANYWAY), we got some truly beautiful lines from both TK and Carlos about their love for each other, and Rafael really just acted his heart out all episode. I loved every minute of their stuff this episode. I was particularly thrilled with the TK/Gabriel scenes and the way he and Andrea just were SO happy to see TK even without Carlos, and were prepared to just have him over to hang out for a bit was SOOOO sweet and speaks volumes about how much closer they have grown. We love to see it! And the parallels to Carlos and Owen looking for TK when he went missing?! *chef's kiss* Get you a father in law who will listen to your concerns about their child and take them seriously and will follow your lead when you Know Something Is Up.

And honestly, Owen had some lines that did make me laugh! I actually think him and O'Brian play off each other really well and I enjoy their reluctant team up. I am just ABSOLUTELY bored to tears with this stupid storyline for them. One is a fire captain and the other is a motorcycle cop! HOW are they both just being totally removed from their first responder world to push this whole boring ass FBI investigation that, from a lot of the comments I've seen around, no one could give two shits about. There are SO MANY procedurals on that revolve around these investigations and a couple other "firefighter" shows that are more about the soap opera level drama than the fun/occasionally serious and painful rescue calls. The 911verse has always stood out for being different, more hopeful and fun, having drama but not being A Drama, and being full of fun and interesting rescues that tie in with what the main characters are going through. And both shows losing their way SO early in their runs is...disappointing. And frustrating that the people in charge have gotten a lot of feedback about what fans AND the GA tune in for (cool/fun emergencies! Some drama but not too OTT, focus on our main characters and their relationships to/with each other!) and have decided they would rather be like every other show out there than to deviate from what they personally want to do because the audience enjoys something they don't think is The Thing Everyone Should Be Enjoying This Much. (Or worse, turn those earnest things that people loved about the show into a joke because they resent their audience and fanbase that gives their show longevity and keeps it trending and pulls in new viewers for some reason. 🙃🙃🙃) ANYWAY, I am READY for this Owen storyline to take a back fucking seat to literally anything. I've been re-watching season 1 and the difference in TK and Owen's relationship then and now is so disappointing to see. I know Ronen said he and RL have a really good TK/Owen episode (or scene? I don't fully remember) so I'm looking forward to that but I really, REALLY need to see more emergencies and first responder moments on this *checks notes* show very specifically about first responders doing their jobs. VERY excited for Marjan to get a storyline this week!

As for your salty thoughts, I'm with you. I don't *hate* the "Carlos married Iris" storyline but it definitely could have been handled better/more seamlessly (especially watching season1 again and the clues they COULD have dropped without revealing what was going on but didn't), and honestly was not needed as a set up for this episode. Actually, as much as what we got was good, I personally think it would have been better being an entirely separate thing from Iris. Like, if they just wanted to have Carlos getting hurt and TK teaming up with Gabriel to find him, they could have cut the whole thing about Iris going missing and put more emergency calls into episode 3 and had TK and Carlos still in a tiff because they're both stressed about Iris not signing the divorce papers yet, and then had Carlos get trapped while at work on a call! He could have been trying to save someone, hell it could have even been Iris! And we could have seen him talking to this person (even BETTER if it was Iris!) about all this love he has for TK and about TK's love for Gwen, and fighting to get out but not quite being able to make it, and even going into cardiac arrest and needing CPR! He still could have been off-duty with no one knowing he was involved at first so TK could still have the talk with the 126 and the call to Grace, and a moment with the Reyes parents and the ultimate team up with Gabriel. I just think there was a way to tie it more into the premise of first responders while still keeping all the good stuff we got!

And you're right about it not really being an "arc" because we...didn't actually get that much from Carlos about HIMSELF. We got the scene where he first tells TK about being married and why he did it, but we still know NOTHING about if they had a true wedding and told everyone or if it's something that they did privately and it came up later when she disappeared, we have no idea if everyone in the family knew it was a sham wedding or found out later, we still don't know when they decided it was cool to date other people and if they ever lived together, or how Carlos felt about watching his best friend start to change and become someone he didn't recognize, we know NOTHING except it is a Thing That Happened and they didn't get a divorce before she disappeared because ??? "reasons" (even though no one batted an eye about her having a long-term relationship with someone else), then she was presumed dead, and then it was because the US healthcare system is a joke. We didn't get to delve much into Carlos' side of things, just hear his version of Iris's side of things! And as you said, if it was about him confronting his past, WHERE was a talk with his parents?! Where was the discussion about his choice to do this and what they did or didn't say or did or didn't know about it all?!

I'm hoping we get some more in the coming weeks because we still don't have a resolution to this arc since Iris still has not applied for an annulment or signed the papers, we haven't seen Carlos talking to his parents, and we didn't get a big growth moment or anything because we didn't get to see TK talking to anyone about how he was trying to be supportive but he was really reeling from the news and wanted to make sure Carlos felt supported and loved but he also needed to vent about it. Like, the only conflict is about if it can happen soon enough for the wedding in 8-ish weeks, because everyone is on board and everyone is fine with things. IDK it just feels like if this was going to be a big thing, it needed to be A Big Thing which you can do without the people in the couple being awful to each other, but you do kind of need to allow them to have big and occasionally messy feelings, and TALK about those feelings, and show some change from the start of the arc to the end. There was never any really true conflict here, so there is...nowhere to grow from. I don't hate this, I just think it could have been handled a little better and more interestingly but SO MUCH TIME is going to this Owen arc that everything else is suffering instead of giving this plot some room to breathe and filling up the time with more emergencies, and giving Owen a more central arc later on. 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

As always, thanks for your thoughts my friend! I'll be working on our song ask next!

[yakumtsaki]

Thanks to my well-honed sim cockblocking reflexes, I put a stop to this nonsense before it escalated further, and now we’re gonna pretend it never happened! You hear me, sluts?? ENOUGH. 

-Don’t worry babe, that moron can barely keep us alive, let alone keep us apart!

Sophito I can’t even express how sick I am of your bullshit. Why don’t you just explain to us how a relationship with Eliza would work given your LTW, because I’d love to hear it.

-I’d figure it out!!

The only thing you’d be figuring out is how to survive massive blood loss after she cut your dick off, ok? Eliza is no Don, she’d take that rose of amnesia and stab you in the eye with it.

Speaking of Don, Sugar is determined to out-simp his father as he is about to kill both himself and Claire by hypothermia because he won’t stop hugging her long enough for them to get inside. 

-Oh darling, I can think of nothing better than staying here forever, embracing in the rain next to objects that tend to get hit by lighting!

You might have noticed a lack of Sugar the last few updates and it’s because ever since he won Claire’s heart he’s come down with a terrible case of Shajar Former Incel Syndrome. Remember when she finally got with Sophie and her entire personality disappeared because all she did was follow Soph around waiting to woohoo with her?? Well it’s time for round 2!

Our grades last semester were straight up embarrassing and we’re tittering on being broke again, mainly thanks to the 3 fortune aspiration douchebags and their delusional expensive wants, so it’s time to do the unthinkable: study.

-Ya, I don’t know how effective it is to be studying during June’s party?

Well Sugar, you of all people managed to cuck someone so clearly nothing is impossible around here.

Look how productive everyone is being! 

-Goddamn it, how do I insert a check for $5000 in this paper without ruining the formatting? You know what, I’ll just attach it in the email. 

ARE YOU BRIBING THE PROFESSORS. IS THAT WHERE ALL OUR MONEY IS GOING

-Of course I am, how do you think I keep getting A+s without ever studying?

I assumed you were a brainchad like Sophito??

-Ya, Sophito has been attaching his nudes instead of checks. 

Of course he has! 

What fresh hell is this, what is this rando feud?

-I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU AND YOUR FELLOW FORTUNE ASSHOLES, REGINALD, STOP WASTING ALL OUR SCHOLARSHIP MONEY ON RUGS AND COKE -Not just rugs and coke, June, also sculptures! -I DON’T CARE. JUST GO BANG YOUR OLD LADY AND LEAVE OUR MONEY ALONE

-Oh Erik, finally you can move in and bring all your cash with you!  -Well I do have like 1k in household funds! -HAHA- wait, you’re serious? YOU ONLY HAVE 1K?? -I sure do!

Erik what the fuck, even the llama brought more with him when he moved in.

-I’m only a freshman! And my entire bio is about wanting to be a starving artist! 

WANTING TO BE A WHAT NOW?? JUNE WE’VE BEEN BAMBOOZLED. I thought we were getting a boring, dependable John Burb type and instead we got Darren Dreamer, fuck.

-Oh, you broke, beautiful idiot, I’m so into you right now!

June.. istg. Frankly Erik as a marriage prospect is starting to feel barely above the nephew obsession-

-CASE IN POINT. ERIK WTF

-You didn’t check my personality panel before moving me in?

I SURE DIDN’T

-2 neat points :)

Fuck my life. Let’s just move on..

..Our party is going incredibly as usual!

-FUCK YOU, STACY, HOW DARE YOU PLATONICALLY INTERACT WITH SOPHITO IN FRONT OF ME

-FUCK YOU TOO, SOPHITO, I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU AT ALL AND I NEVER WONDER IF WE’RE MEANT TO BE TOGETHER SOMETIMES WHEN I CAN’T SLEEP 

Can you people not be completely deranged for the duration of one (1) party?

Istg I can’t leave these flops unattended for more than a minute. REGINALD STOP BONDING WITH EVERY CREEPY PROFESSOR THAT CROSSES YOUR PATH

-Thank you, 00s Emo-Haired Professor, this is very flattering but I’m already in a committed relationship with your colleague, Geriatric Half-Alien Professor.  -Oh my, I’m so sorry! I’d never violate the Professor Dibs On Students Honor Code!

Ok ya, party over, everyone fuck off.

-Hi Stacy, what the hell are you doing? 

God’s work, that’s what she’s doing. Don’t let them bang, Stac, stay where you are! 

-Hey, genius, if we do the ‘shoo’ action she’s hardcoded to leave.

Fuck you, Eliza, I’m bringing reinforcements..

..HA. COCKBLOCK ACHIEVED ONCE AGAIN. Have fun, you two!

And you two I’m not letting out of my sight.

-You can’t win against me, Liz, my grandpa started teaching me chess as soon as I fell out of my mom on the bathroom floor. -Classiest birth your family has ever seen. -Both your dads wanted to marry into my family. -Wanted to marry in so badly they cheated on your grandpa with each other and he had to marry his third choice.

HEY. Wyatt wasn’t our third choice! (He totally was.)

-Well thank God you’re marrying Wilfred who’s always been your first choice! -Absolutely he is, he doesn’t at all bore my tits off. In fact, I’m gonna go wake him up right now and have loud sex with him and you can stay here, being a hoe who’s bad at chess. -Ok, have fun! -Oh, I will!

WELP I TRIED.

-Sophito, I feel our undefinable toxic relationship is gonna be a disaster for everyone involved.  -I know, isn’t it great? :D

[aniastasia]

Wingman

Summary: Reader is unwillingly thrust into Romanian village by the hands of Miranda. Until your brother Ethan could hopefully find you, you had to make sure you didn’t fall for this trench coated, cigar aficionado first.

Warnings: Slight violence

The day was bitterly cold and you couldn’t understand why Redfield brought your family here. Never was there a moment that didn’t seem to bite at your insides, your bones. You and Ethan had grown up on the East coast. The winters there had been mild at best, bitingly cold at worst, but never like this. After the whole fiasco with Louisiana, Redfield had uprooted your entire family for “safety” reasons and you had moved at least six times before settling in Eastern Europe. You were still upset with Mia after her lack of transparency and her outright lie about her little babysitting gig; Ethan had been too devout of a husband to see through her bullshit, nor to let her go, despite the encouragement of you and your parents to move on, after the first, second, third year of her disappearance. Of course, you begrudgingly went with him to Louisiana after he somehow received a message from her. Clearly it was her on the video, but she looked awful – exhausted, haggard, and slightly deranged, as she pleaded for him not to come (then why send the video at all, you had wondered, but that had been a crazy shitshow when you found out). But all the same, you traveled for a day and a half before finding yourself in the Louisiana bayous - the humidity enough to choke you, if the stink of the swamp did not do so first.

What had happened over the next 3 days was nothing short of an impossible hell. Never would you be able to get over that, participating in therapy probably until the end of your days. It was a miracle that any of you survived. The rescue helicopter ride had been awkward for you as you had watched from your seat Ethan comforting Mia on the stretcher, the pilot taking you farther and farther away from the smoldering Baker homestead. You had decided there that you would probably never trust her again, but being the supportive sister, you knew Ethan’s recovery and repair of his marriage would be just as vital to his survival as your own.

Yet, you agreed to go with them when Redfield decided it was imperative that he relocate all of you. Mia did not seem too keen to the idea, but you figured your presence was payback enough for all the shit she had put you and Ethan through; though you knew not intentionally, Mia’s actions had nearly gotten all of you killed. Marguerite and Jack Baker had perished from her actions, Zoe was recovering somewhere in an undisclosed location, and Lucas… well he could rot in the deepest pits of hell.

After nearly two years, you thought your time living with Ethan had run its course. Mia and you had grown at least friendly toward each other, if not at the very least, civil. But living with your brother and his wife was an intrusion on their privacy and their marriage. You were just about to make plans with Redfield to go to back to the States when Mia announced her pregnancy. Ethan was elated, of course. You had been reserved to the idea of them reproducing, but knew it was bound to happen. Your bags had been packed and your flight was scheduled for that August. However, after Mia gave birth in that BSAA clinic, Rose stole your heart – she was the epitome of the strength and courage taken by both of her parents to get her there. She was simply lovely – beautiful eyes and hair the color of the sun. It was here that Mia gently asked you to stay behind – to support her as she and Ethan raised Rose, to be the sister-in-law that she would need considering the rest of her family did not know where she now lived with her husband. There in the hospital room, with tiny baby Rose snoozing in your arms, you agreed to stay.

But as you went out to the car assigned to you by the BSAA, you tried to ignore the awful vicious cold as it seemed to hit your face like thousands of tiny knives. The inside of the car wasn’t much better, though a temporary safe haven from the terrible wind. You bitterly wondered why the BSAA couldn’t have relocated you all to sunny Greece or the equivalent.

You managed to get the car started and waited several minutes for the engine to cycle, before beginning your trip to work. The journey down the driveway was uneventful. When you turned onto the country road that was parallel to the river, you fiddled with the CD player. Romanian radio stations and music reigned here and you could only listen so much to songs you would probably never understand, despite picking up several phrases and you could at least order a coffee at the local shop.

When your car suddenly lurched forward, you let out a short shout of surprise. You quickly looked at all your mirrors – you hadn’t hit anything, nor ran anything over, but yet you were still stopped in the middle of the road, your car still on.

Then you felt the sensation of being in an awful carnival ride – strapped in but moving forward as though about to take a horrible ride down a huge roller coaster hill. But you kept falling forward until you knew that you were about to be flipped over in the car. You screamed as the car did land on its hood, your body violently jerking from the force, but the seatbelt keeping you securely in place. Your heart thudding in your chest, you listened to the groan of metal as the car began to turn like a deranged top, glass shattering as you screamed in terror. The car spun once more as you clutched onto the seatbelt, desperately trying to keep down your breakfast.

Suddenly the door wrenched open, the metal screeching as it was pried away from the rest of the car. Your screaming was indiscernible from the chaos of the car door flying off as if attached to an invisible wire. Far off, you heard it splash into the icy river. Frantically, you searched around for the source of the bedlam. When you saw a pair of upside down legs coming at you, clad in tan pants and black scuffed boots, you reached over to grab the pistol from the glovebox. The contents fell out, but your shaking fingers managed to wrap around the grip. You racked a round and fired several shots at the oncoming stranger.

You weren’t used to shooting upside down, but you knew that at least one of your shots would have made its mark. But the stranger, who you could see to be a man, did not even flinch at your attack – in your panic, you could have sworn you heard him laugh. You emptied the magazine, your frustrated shout probably not heard over the shots. Finally, the man crouched down next to your incapacitated form. You immediately caught the smell of sweat, motor oil, and Cuban cigars. Though he was upside down, you could see that the man was giving you an amused smile.

“Gotta give you credit for trying, sweetheart,” he mused.

Giving a frustrated yell, you threw the gun at his face. Somehow the gun’s projectile changed and it missed him entirely. The man simply grinned before giving a wave of his hand – your seatbelt suddenly unbuckled and you came crashing down onto the car hood, pain striking up your shoulder and upper back from the unforgiving landing. The man grabbed your ankles – he was impossibly strong – and he dragged you out onto the cold, sharp gravel of the road. In one last attempt, you grabbed the car’s frame but your terror grew when you heard the man chuckle, letting go of your ankles. His hands landed on your wrists and he yanked your grip.

“Come on, darlin’, there’s no use in fighting,” he drawled, dragging you yet again away from the car. You thrashed and screamed at him to get away, but he did not respond.

Rather, a female voice said, “Heisenberg, take caution with her. She is not to be harmed.”

You looked around, trying to find the owner of the voice. Your eyes finally landed on a tall woman, dressed in black. She wore an ornate mask on her face, and you wondered for a second if she were some sort of mutant bird woman, but you could see a pale human collar bone.

“Mrs. Winters, do not be alarmed. We require your presence,” the woman said.

Mrs. Winters?

You reared your leg and kicked the man in his stomach. Your foot landed hard, against tough muscle, but also a layer of slight fat; the only things moving from your kick were his necklaces clanging together like crazed wind chimes. Instantly you knew that this man was built sturdy – if he was affected by your hit, he did not let it known. However, he snarled as he raised his hand and hit you so hard with his open palm that you saw stars as your head dipped back upon impact. You saw him raise his hand again and this time when his blow landed, you succumbed to the darkness.

You can find the next chapter here. Thank you for reading!

[holylulusworld]

Deranged Marriage masterlist

Summary: Your father wants you to choose a husband. Your chosen one doesn’t like the idea one bit.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: arranged marriage, language, unwilling groom, angst, Bucky being an ass, sadnes, banter, sexual tension, arguments, bratty/strong reader, more to be added in separate chapters

Deranged Marriage (1) - Let it go 

Deranged Marriage (2) - No more

Deranged Marriage (3) - Like hell

Deranged Marriage (4) – Sticks and stones break my bones

Deranged Marriage (5) - Drinks are on me

Deranged Marriage (6) - Don’t play with fire (if you can’t take the heat)

Deranged Marriage (7) - Mutual Interest

Deranged Marriage (8) - Only the devil can tame her

Deranged Marriage (9) – Two tidalwaves

Deranged Marriage (10) – Broken resolve

Deranged Marriage (11) - For whom the bell tolls

Deranged Marriage (12) - Back to square one

Deranged Marriage (13) - Wedding bells - FIN

[necronatural]

my knowledge of founders “fan culture/works” (or whatever the hell its called) is peripheral at best, so your occasional rants about it are super incomprehensible and also highly entertaining. I have to admit that Im intrigued. if you dont mind, could you explain the “taxonomy” of it all? in other words, my curiosity has overcome me; what the fuck is going on?

Ok im relatively new lets see if I can break it down. The progenitor of the wave is Blackkat, who wrote fics about Tobirama. Most tropes have a highly identifiable progenitor.

1. The Tulpa: a recurring theme is usually Tobirama trying to be as emotionless as possible to better do his job, not acknowledging how emotional his heart truly is. Also he's a deranged inventor who loves to draw up new concepts. Turn in Such Humanity and Count Your Blessings is this, condensed.

2. Woobie Tobirama: Hashirama is not paying attention to Tobirama's repression, giving people who understand it better (like Madara, Madatobi is the dominant ship) access. This mutates into "Bad Brother Hashirama", where Hashirama either resents Tobirama for his personality or is scared of him and neglects/abuses him, sending Tobirama into the Uchiha's protective arms. See: break your ankle in a cave copypasta. Overall "Tobirama goes to the Uchiha's house" is the most common trope you'll find and most fics strive to put Tobirama in the Uchiha's house

3. Kids. Canonically Tobirama is just normal about children (note: something wrong with him so it's striking he is normal with them) so obviously its wildly popular for him to adopt or mentor them and he has a caretaker's impulse. Kagami is often pulled into this, #1 child for Tobirama to be nice to. He's not Tobirama's student but people act like he is

4. Sex pest Izuna. Tends to crop up if the fic isn't lovey dovey. I think its a distinct trope where he isn't just sexually liberal (this is funny and I'm fine with this) but specifically is sexual at inappropriate times and often as his sole personality trait. I wish for world clean. Worth mentioning this guy is viewed as a dom top, baby are you sure?

5. Soulmates. Just soulmates. They're everywhere. Ubiquitous. Can't spit without hitting one.

6. A/B/O. Likewise 😞

7. Arranged Marriage. Look if there's a fic trope where 2 people are forced to be intimate with/acknowledge/not kill one another you bet your ass that it's a trend

8. Wife hunts. Kill me.

9. Darkfic. I full stop block these posts when I see them. Appears to exclusively be, as a "trend", Super Sexual Sadism Bros Madara and Izuna and the sexual sadism Madara solo joint.

10. Uchiha flailing: ok this isn't a trope but there's a trend of...like, if the Uchiha flail or there is a comment on how they tend to flail NO EXCEPTION the characterization is them acting like a middle schooler. Anastasia from 50 Shades corny obliviousness. Why.......?

11. Spare Tire Izuna: no one knows wtf to do with him btw. Overall trends as irritable, more active and autonomous, mirrors Madara's opinions but is honest about it. He's a plot device guy unless he's being a dom top or is in love with touka. Not even in a ship sense sometimes him being in love with touka is a background crush so he has something to do. He's not a piece of meat...hes a person... with feelings... [Insane]

There's also microtrends caused by people filling out ideas from drabble collections, a core part of the ecosystem. I think I saw a wild strain of guide/sentinel from this. G/S AUs are irresistible to me I'll always read them

[disney-android-foundation]

Hey if you’re still taking requests/asks…(and I think u might like this one ;) ) Can I get a Yandere Alemeda Slim???? Robot AU and regular please.

;)

Normal

- There are two possible ways you could’ve met Slim, him up front or him as Yancy O’Del.

- Meeting Slim up front would be rare considering that he only ever comes out at night without his disguise, he can only go out in the day time with his disguise. So you’d have to be the owner of some land and Bulls to even have a chance of encountering the real Slim. Now normally he doesn’t take anything but the cattle, so you’d have to be pretty darn special in order for him to take you.

- When he does take you, he keeps you in a makeshift cell. It would most likely be a ransom kinda holding where he requests money from your family or maybe the town you sold to. Since you’re already there, he talks to you, just basic things, nothing that seems obsessive. As time goes on, maybe a week (he works quick), the questions he asks and topics he brings up kinda sound like he’s planning something more than just a ransom. He starts sitting closer to your cell now, obviously believing that you can’t do anything. Now he even lets you out of the cell from time to time, but you have to be by his side at all times.

- When asking why he’s suddenly wanting to get close to you now, he puts an arm around your waist and pulls you close, he confesses his feelings for you and how you’re the only person to ever make him feel this way. Even though he poured his heart out to you, you refused him, saying you can’t be with a criminal. Slim is just, stunned. How could you possibly refuse him?! You two have spent so much time together (You’ve known them for a week Slim calm down-) how could you not like him?…… Well the thing is, he’s not taking no for an answer. You’re gonna be with him no matter what, if he has to break a few bones, so be it.

- If you met him as Yancy O’Del, perhaps you’re an innocent shop keeper for a general goods store. You’ve had a regular customer come in to buy either mustache oil, hair gel, beef jerky, whiskey, or rope. He was always kind and gentleman like to you when making his purchases, always making conversation with you. It becomes clear that he buys from you constantly just so talk to you, so you inform him that he doesn’t have to buy anything just to talk to you, you have no clue how happy that made ‘Yancy’.

- You two started talking outside of your work schedule, and then you started to date 2 months later. At this point you still have no idea that it’s Alameda Slim under the glasses and coat (bith is you dumb??? JK), but ‘Yancy’ believes it’s time you knew. So he brings you to a secluded location away from society, to you it’s a possible marriage proposal, to Slim it’s something else. Once he mustered up his courage, he went behind a rock, he was there for awhile before emerging as not Yancy O’Del, but as Alameda Slim.

- You were absolutely shattered by the news, how dare he lie to you for so long?! He was shattered as you were, you really can’t like him for being a wanted criminal, after all you two have been through? Of course, he makes it seem like he’s letting you go as long as you don’t go spewing off the town like tweety bird about how famous land owner Yancy O’Del is actually the notorious Alameda Slim. You agree, not actually knowing what Slim was planning.

- In the dead of night, you were woken up by the smell of smoke. The inhalation of smoke caused you to start choking on it. You run out of your now on fire house, wondering if maybe you’d have left a candle burning, your thoughts are quickly interrupted by the sudden hog tie you have been put in. Through your daze of confusion, you see familiar gloved hands forcefully shove a drenched rag on your nose and mouth, conciseness slowly fading. The last thing you hear is, “You don’t get to decide that this relationship is over. That’s up to me, and I sure as hell don’t plan on letting you go.”

Android

- Slim was bought to help you on your chicken farm. Yeah it seems silly having such a big man help handle such small birds, but he hasn’t complained much.

- You’ve had a Mcleach droid before Slim. He mostly kept predators away from the coops. Plus it was mentioned in reviews that Mcleach’s and Slim’s are best friends so it would be great for the two to have each other while you were busy elsewhere. So you can imagine how shocking it was to arrive home to see Slim nearly beating the life out of Mcleach.

- You had to pull Slim off of him, asking what the hell was going on. Slim didn’t answer you, just stared at you weirdly before picking up some notebook and calmly walking out of the house. You couldn’t be bothered to follow him, you had to get Mcleach to a repair shop immediately.

- Upon arrival, bystanders and the repair team were just staring in awe. “Wha, What happened to your Mcleach?!” “My Slim droid went berserk on him! Aren’t they supposed to be friends?” “Well yeah usually, let’s work out his voice box first so that we can get the full story.” They fix his voice box and the whole story spills out.

- On the second day of Slims arrival, Mcleach noticed that Slim would stare at you for a long time without your knowing. Way longer than what should be necessary. Mcleach asked him why he kept staring at you, but was only given a “mind your damn business” they weren’t exactly friends at this time so it was understandable that Slim would want to keep to himself rather than just spill everything there is to know about him. So weeks go by and he still catches Slim staring at you, now he’s been writing in a journal. Mcleach would try to peek at what’s inside, but Slim seemed very protective of it so it was hard to even glance at it without Slim noticing. So he waited until the day Slim finally let his guard down enough to where he would leave the journal behind or just plain forget about it. You had left to go to the market and Slim heard some of the roosters fighting so he had to go sort that out, leaving the journal defenseless on the table. Mcleach had to be fast, so he quickly but quietly darted for the table. He didn’t even care to start from the beginning, he just opened a random page and started reading. The entries were all about you. Everything you have done while Slim has lived here, everything you like and love, every shower, everything you’ve eaten, what time you usually go to bed at, how you look when you slept. There were some entries on Mcleach, mostly on how he’s nothing but an obstacle and must be dealt with as soon as possible. Mcleach was so caught up in the reading, he didn’t even notice the cowboy, right behind him. That’s when the fight started.

- Everyone in the repair shop was horrified by Mcleach’s story, an employee immediately called a task force to retrieve the Slim droid immediately. They had you stay in the repair shop until they gave the ok.

- The task force definitely saw the damage that Slim made in the house but couldn’t find him there. So they had to start checking the surrounding area.

- You requested to go home after 3 hours of searching, saying that your chickens need to be cared for. The task force was reluctant but agreed so long as an 2 officers were at home with you.

- Even with the officers, you were on edge and jumpy about every little thing that went bump. The officers tried their best to calm you down, but how can you be calm knowing a deranged robot that you thought you could trust could be stalking you at this very moment?

- Despite the worry, you still needed to go to bed. One officer stayed in the house while the other would guard the outside. Not matter how strong Slim may be, he isn’t resistant to bullets.

- You woke up early in the morning like usual, you had to feed the chickens or else they’ll wake up the neighbors. You put on a bathrobe and work boots, strange, shouldn’t at least one of the officers be heard?

- You open you door, only to be met with an all familiar cowboy. You tried to scream, but your mouth was quickly gagged. “I don’t need you makin so much noise, not when I’m tryna bring you home!” Bring you home?! What was he talking about?!

- Slim bound your hands and feet together and slung you over his shoulder. He started to walk out with you, that when you saw the mess that he made, the officers weren’t moving, they didn’t even look like they were breathing. You quietly started to cry as Slim made his way into the woods, where he promises your new home will be better than your old one.

[alotsgonnachange]

Mystic Messenger Saeran’s AE Thoughts (.......And Prayers..) #Spoilerz

Hello, I just finished Saeran’s after ending and I have a lot of things to say and I am going to write it down while I'm still all keyed up about it.

First of all… Please DO NOT ask me how much money I spent to finish this as fast as I did…. I’m grown but my bank account is certainly going to have a good ole fashioned CHUCKLE at this….. It’s been a long quarantine I deserve a lil happiness as a treat methinks!

I have been playing this absolutely insane game since I think 2016? When I first started playing the deep routes had JUST come out I think? And I was just finishing up high school and am now a college grad...lmao

I’ve played all routes at least once except Jaehee but i’ve seen walkthroughs of her route (I’ve heard it makes you hate Jumin and he’s my favorite so um. hehe). V’s and Saeran’s routes I found to be so emotionally intense and just….a lot and I've been waiting a long ass god damn time for this after ending okay…. I would theorize and make up an ending in my head but i’m no writer so it was hard to figure out lol. I’m a Jumin stan mostly but I love everybody and yeah I should probably play that jumin dlc too but I need like a DAY to recover from Saeran’s AE. Enough about me HERE are my thoughts on it overall

Major Saeran AE Spoilers under da cut!

Can we please discuss V showing up to the C+R conference room with basically chloroform and made everybody Pass Out like??? I was alone in my room at like midnight just SCREAMING at my phone???? And the creepy ass CG ???? It’s like that gif of sarah paulson from ahs being like “I put arsenic in the wine….and the pasta”

Anyway I screamed at V a lot during this process!!

Loved RFA being sweet and kind to saeran (before V fucking drugged them…)

This is such common V behavior “I have to do it all myself...there’s no other way..” GIRL SHUT UPPP You do this every route....

SO many CG’s and I enjoy them a lot

Saeran’s sprite looks a little TOO crisp compared to everyone else but maybe its a glitch??? V next to him is in 480p while saeran is like 1080p

Hearing both Saeran and Saeyoung missing the other brother the whole time??? PAIN. All my homies know is PAIN

BOSS and his V for Vendetta ass guy fawkes mask??? I literally yelled “this game is TERRIBLE!!” several times at my phone

Their dad is so>??????? When he was sitting on the couch with saeyoung in that one CG while simultaneously telling him to kill himself?????????? Maybe chairman han is actually the best dad in this game somehow

When V and Rika were like we’re back together teehee teehee okay pack it up bonnie and clyde ..

When chairman han calls u and says hes jealous of u and saeran…..HUH????? I’m calling HR

When they go to the apartment and see boss and vanderwood and poor saeyoung is sitting there seeing his brother for the first time in years i wanted to D word sooooo bad like PAIN...PAIN….

Can we HAVE A DISCUSSION ABOUT JUMIN HAN BEING THE BEST CHARACTER IN THE GAME AND HE LOST EVERYTHING IN THIS AE……. he just took the blame and moved on jumin what the hell….. I love him so much r we serious? He watched his 2 closest friends betray him in the worst way and found out abt how Rika abused Saeyoung and Saeran???? I felt just AWFUL. Terrible ...Terrible….

Rika’s change in demeanor from Saeran's actual route is certainly a Choice. I find her much more bearable this time around and unfortunately i think I was too nice to her and ended up with a bad end LMFAO

I was happy to see Saeran stand up for himself and become stronger and confident. You go king!

The CG of Yoosung laying in Zen’s lap is everything to me…

HOWEVER YUP I sure did get a bad ending and I was so mad fdsafdskfdhsf ! (I would be happy to clarify how I got the good one the second time.) MAKE SURE To SAVE EARLY in days 2 and 3 bc the branches on day 4 is where the bad end will show up. For me it was the first day 4 chat and then a story mode titled “SAVIOR”.... If you see that RUN FOR THE HILLS!!

I was so mad! But I had saved in day 2 and replayed and MANAGED to get good end

I’m obsessed with everyone calling V and Rika “that psychotic couple” like…..its true its true…

No those two are so toxic… V’s route was torture watching them go on and on about the sun like yo can yall just call each other babe like normal people.

I respect straight people but not V and RIka that shit was just wrong… Straight marriage was a mistake

Oh lord i also FULLY Forgot Rika killed the twins’ mother…. Yeah that scene was um Certainly a lot but it needed to happen eventually

Like it’s good they know but damn that storyline is just so bleak

I think it was satisfying TO A DEGREE….To see Rika understand where she was wrong, why she was wrong, fess up and even APOLOGIZE! I was very surprised.

Saeran and Saeyoung are Certainly twins with the amount that those two self sacrifice in every route MY GOD…..

The scene with Jumin talking to his father and the other scene of him praying oh my god I cannot tell you how happy I was to see him begin to understand and address his own feelings in a route that was not his own. My main problem with Jumin’s route has always been the trapping MC in his penthouse aspect.. This way Jumin understands love and emotions without being overly possessive !!! YAY also loved seeing him be on good terms with his dad who was surprisingly profound

That last Story mode was Really a Lot…. and Strange things occurred which I will get into in just a minute

Jumin becoming a politician is so funny but ngl … i see it.

Yoosung going to france to study pastries ok king I see u! (it made more sense to me than the vet thing anyway)

Lastly Zen FURRY ERA

MY BEEF With the AE

I was happy with how they handled it for the most part. I think Cheritz heard our feedback about V’s after ending and was like okay….let’s try something different

HOWEVER

Saeran…. Sweet kind saeran… IS SO AFFECTIONATE HAHA….

He must have said I love you like 300 times…..very mushy gushy flowery language...and maybe that’s just his personality but for me it was like eating cake with buttercream cake. It means well, but god damn is it sugary and going to cause a stomach ache later.

He was just… SO MUCH! SO forward and ON all the time in his affections. I honestly felt kind of smothered and by day 3 and 4 I was sooooo over all the compliments… King you’ve come a very long way, but ur still putting MC on a pedestal and probably need to see a therapist.

Nextly….Rika and V….. Naw that knock out gas really ...that hurt lol. Coming from “I would do anything to protect RFA” V? Idk like…. EYE felt betrayed reading that. It was just hurtful. I can’t even imagine how the members would have felt as they were passing out. It was just so cruel. I suppose I understand why but like?? Just TERRIBLE

Them being in cahoots with the agency and the prime minister..HUH??? Also too much

V just felt so irresponsible like I do understand that he ended up in a weird web of secrets that’s hard to untangle but he’s so fucking stubborn he’s SO stubborn it makes me insane. Like sir… It seems like in other routes he wanted to try to protect Rika and the RFA.. But in this AE it seems more to me that he was like yeah i’m protecting Rika and That’s It… so fucking hurtful to me. Both of y’all apologize ESPECIALLY to the twins and Jumin..

The forgiveness thing…… Okay so I think some people will not like that Saeran decided to “forgive” the people who hurt him (Rika, V, Saejoong, his mother). I would point out that I actually think this was approached somewhat well. He says at one point that he doesn’t think they’re good or bad, just people. I think he sounded mature and like this was the way for him personally to accomplish his healing process. Would I have loved for Saeran to flip V and Rika off and kick Saejoong off a cliff? Yea I really would. But like…. If that’s what HE needs to do to heal then who am I to judge?

HOWEVER…. Everything Eye just said goes out the window when the scenes at the end with Saejoong come up… I was PERPLEXED. Like why did he HUG his deranged father who just kicked the shit out of him??? Also all the chat options that MC has with him r like blah blah you’re like this because no one loves you were so corny to me LMFAOOOO?

AND WHEN HE WAS IN THE ROOM LATER WITH SAERAN… i’m sorry but if that were me I would have called a nurse to deck his ass. Cool he turned himself in YOU SUCK SOOOO BAD AND I NEVER WANT YOU TO COME NEAR SAEYOUNG AND SAERAN AGAIN THANKS.

*scratches ass* I wish I got to see saeyoung and saeran finally sit down and have that first conversation after a long time and hug CG but the ending was fine I GUESS….. I dont care about ROMANCE I want those boys to be happy brothers together

Anyway that was really emotionally exhausting but I fr think I got it out of my system after literal years… And I can rest in peace knowing the choi twins are happy. THATS ALL I WANTED TO KNOW!!!!

[ourpickwickclub]

The sad bitter life of ShefaniHate is demonstrated every time she tweets and frankly, I’m nothing but amused. It gives me a special thrill to know how crazy it must drive all the deranged ML fans that Blake and Gwen are married. To know that they were probably hoping up until July 3 that the engagement would be broken like JLo and ARod … nope! To know that they can never say “he’ll never marry her!” again. That Blake married someone who will perform at CMA Fest with him while ML married someone who can do no better than karaoke with her at her trashy restaurant, and they’ll never admit it but that bothers the hell out of them. The Tammys must be distraught. Is Ida okay? Six years of being crazy on Twitter waiting for Gwen and Blake’s breakup only to see them get married and have every news site known to man going nuts over it for a week. They have really wasted their time this long. Sad, but funny.

I can’t even fathom wasting six years of your life on a couple you claim to hate. I get that the ran fans and shelberts would be upset about losing Blake, but they need to let him go for the good of their own mental health. If these past six years are any example, it doesn’t seem like they’re going to do that though. They should at least take their conversation off of gen pop twitter and IG and keep it to a group chat or blog. All they’re doing is making ML look bad, like her own fans only care about her former failed marriage.

— M

[heroes-fading]

Why Veronica Mars Won’t Have a Season 5

My introduction to Veronica Mars came in the midst of my father’s death. I watched episodes in hospital waiting rooms before it happened, and holed up in my room afterwards. I found a lot of comfort in the strength that the characters provided. The scene of Logan at his mother’s funeral - maniac and trying to find the humor in it - is exactly what I felt at my father’s. I, like Logan, made jokes and tried shrugging it off. I was certain that this was some sort of cosmic joke, and I was on the receiving end. Veronica’s personality shaped most of who I was in high school - my dad passed away two weeks before I started. Her snark, intelligence, and resilience inspired me so much then. I found a wonderful community with fans of the show, and to this day as a semi-adult I love and adore so many people I met through the show.

When the movie was announced, I was ecstatic. I remember rushing to a bathroom stall at my high school so I could eloquently keyboard-smash about it with my friends, donating to the Kickstarter, wearing my t-shirt, going to the theater with my friend to watch it and livestreaming it the night of its release with my online friends. In a sea of horrible feelings and helplessness, Veronica Mars helped me feel empowered and supported.

That’s partly why all of this stings so badly and feels so much like a betrayal.

Logan Echolls fits into a lot of tropes I’ve grown to hate as a self-identified feminist who has zero time for bad boys. Men who “atone for their sins” to get with a leading heroine are ones I often find boring - so often they’re executed poorly and their past mistakes would be absolutely unforgivable in a real context. Chuck Bass, Damon Salvatore, Spike, et. all are characters I’m tired of seeing in fiction. Logan Echolls organized a bum fight, took out Veronica’s headlights, burned down a community pool, made a series of racist comments to Weevil, and generally had moments of being the absolute worst. But for some weird reason, I have a massive soft spot for Logan and he’s become one of my favorite fictional characters.

Maybe it’s because we’ve seen him go through much, change so much over the course of the show. Maybe it’s because the show actually held him accountable (as well as Veronica) so the redemption didn’t feel cheap or unearned. Or maybe it’s because I’m just a weak heterosexual hypnotized by Jason Dohring’s abs and my feminism only goes so far as who I think is hot. I hope it’s not the last one, but I’m sure some would argue it is! The point is -- healthy, going-to-therapy Logan feels earned after the deaths of his parents, his abusive dad killing his girlfriend, numerous beatings, and too many near death experiences to count. Logan went from being an obligatory psychotic jackass to a fairly well-adjusted boyfriend in a way that made narrative sense.

His offscreen death right after getting married to the love of his life? Not so much.  

The thing that stings about Veronica Mars’ final episode is not just Logan’s death - it’s what it means for the show going forward, especially its titular character. What made Veronica lovable was not her toughness as Logan’s final voicemail details. As season 3 Logan reminds us, Veronica isn’t invincible and she isn’t always right. What made her such a compelling character was what was underneath that toughness, and the people around her that highlighted that warmth buried underneath layers of trauma. In other words, what made her a marshmallow. Burnt on the outside, but gooey on the inside, as Wallace describes her in the pilot.

When we meet Veronica in the pilot, she’s been through a litany of traumas: her best friend’s death, a breakup, sexual assault and drugging, social ostracization, her mother’s addiction and swift exit from her life, a swift drop in socioeconomic status, and routine humiliation at the hands of her peers. But in spite of all of that, she’s still the girl that cuts Wallace down from the flag because it’s the right thing to do. She’s still the girl that worries about her father, has sympathy for Logan after his mother’s death despite all of his cruelty, defends and comforts Meg Manning after she endures the same bullying Veronica did, cares (often, initially unwillingly) about the people whose cases she takes, and bakes cookies for her friend after his basketball game just because. Even as recently as the books, Veronica bakes a cake for her terrible, abandoning mother on her birthday in spite of her replacing her and Keith with another family. She looks after her half-brother Hunter, even if he’s a painful reminder of her mother’s foibles. Veronica isn’t nearly as tough as she pretends to be, and that’s a good thing. That’s what makes her interesting and stops her from being like every other cynical hardboiled detective trope.

The people around Veronica - who support her, evolve with her, and serve as contrasts to her - are what help make her story so compelling. People who can tell her when she’s wrong (Logan, Keith, Weevil, et. all), who remind her of her soft side (Keith, Wallace, Mac, Logan), who can stop her from turning into a noir stereotype and cement her as Veronica Mars. People aren’t tuning in just to see Veronica snark at random side characters. Her personal journey in moving past her trauma and her relationships with other characters are what really makes the character who she is. 

Her journey, from the pilot episode to the movie, is realizing that she can’t just shove down and run away from her trauma. Over the course of her show, we see her form bonds with people in spite of her attempts not to - Wallace, Mac, Logan, and a variety of others. They help her, support her, and challenge her in ways that only serve to make her story more interesting. In the movie, we see Veronica realize she can’t keep running and she doesn’t want a cushy life as a New York lawyer with a boyfriend who doesn’t understand why she cares so much about what happens in her hometown. Neptune, as corrupt and corroded as it is, is her hometown. 

That’s why it’s such a spectacular slap in the face for the end of season 4 to offer the exact opposite. Veronica loses her husband (after finally evolving from the Veronica in the pilot who swore she was never getting married because she was so cynical about relationships) immediately after marriage. She leaves behind Keith, Wallace, and everyone else to chase unknown cases with unknown people in unknown places. As Rob has said, he saw this as the only way for Veronica to continue to be interesting - roaming the world solo as if she’s Sherlock Holmes.

This is not character progression. This is not driving the plot forward. This is regressing to a character to a point even before the pilot episode - a hardened Veronica who pretends she doesn’t care, who uses her trauma as an armour, and keeps people away from her. It undermines the central message of the movie - that Neptune is her home and in spite of her problems, she’s willing to fight for it. By killing Logan, Rob wanted to kill Veronica’s ties to Neptune. This isn’t an evolution - it’s a devolution. 

Rob Thomas has offered this option before - a Veronica exit vehicle sans everyone else, including only Kristen Bell snarking at a camera - in the form of the last-ditch FBI pilot. It was not well received by fans nor networks, and unsurprisingly not picked up or seen anywhere other than a reposting on YouTube. I think if he sincerely expects any other result from a similar future attempt, he’s lying to himself. 

If Rob Thomas wanted the male character-centric P.I. noir he initially planned on writing rather than Veronica Mars, he should have written that rather than allowed it to take over the Veronica Mars universe. Writing a woman with the same elements of toxic masculinity as male characters (a complete disregard for their own feelings, ripping themselves away from personal connections, framing “toughness” as superior and emotional development as a waste of time) is not feminism - it’s just lazy. “Strong female characters” don’t have to be made strong by undergoing trauma after trauma and shutting down until they’re a shadow of their former selves. Their male counterparts aren’t expected to have to deal with rape, death, ostracization, and every other possible form of trauma  - women sure as hell shouldn’t. 

Furthermore, the way that Rob Thomas has framed his fanbase is shameful. Veronica Mars fans aren’t just deranged fangirls too obsessed with Jason Dohring’s abs to care about the health of the story. This isn’t “not what we wanted, but what we needed” - we’re not an audience too stupid to know what’s good for us. We’re an intelligent audience when we’re giving the showrunners money, but when we’re disagreeing with the writing choices we’re just too invested in romance to “get it”. Predictably, these fans (who make up most of Veronica Mars’ fanbase that the showrunners claim to adore so much) are women. For decades, women have been stereotyped as media-consumers that only care about romance and thus can’t care about depth as if the two are mutually exclusive. This stereotype is incredibly sexist, especially given what this fanbase in particular has done for this franchise, and the continued insistence that these fans just don’t know what’s good for them or the show is incredibly condescending and transparent.

This fanbase poured $6 million dollars into a Kickstarter for a money, maintained energy for a revival and actively lobbied streaming services and networks for a continuation, and kept the fandom twelve years after the finale episode of its original incarnation aired. As much as some may resent how fan energy encouraged writers to see Logan evolve, or Logan and Veronica to sort out their issues, or anything else - these were choices the writers made and stood by for years. A sudden U-Turn in storytelling to go from “the fans were right, this dynamic is wonderful and we’re going to base our advertising around it!” to “well, it was never supposed to be about that” is a kick to the teeth to a fanbase that (literally!) gave so much. 

It’s not as if this is the first time the fanbase has been disappointed by a writing decision. Speaking for myself, I was heavily disappointed by the way sexual assault was handled on the original incarnation of the show. Veronica’s rape was handled by at first not framing it as a sexual assault at all in “A Trip to the Dentist” - Duncan Kane (her ex-boyfriend/potential half-brother at some point in time) having sex with her while she was unconcious was framed as just “feelings and nature taking over” because he was under the influence. In season 3, the writers decided that framing women protesting sexual assault on campus as deranged feminists who sexually assault men by inserting them with Easter eggs was a good choice. That Easter egg part was played for laughs by the show, writers, and leading cast member. 

Even the inclusion of Dick Casablancas for laughs - whose GHB was intended for his girlfriend and ended up in Veronica’s cup - doesn’t feel right. Ryan Hansen’s charm explains a lot of it, but the show seems to place a lot more blame on Madison for Veronica’s rape despite the fact she narrowly escaped the same fate at Dick’s hands. I was disappointed then, and I’m still disappointed with it now - far away from any romantic concerns of the show.

And my biggest problem with the ending of season 4 isn’t just that Logan is dead. I’m incredibly crushed and disappointed to see all of that character development be met with an offscreen car-bomb, but it doesn’t bode well for Veronica’s characterization and ultimate arc either. I fell in love with Veronica’s character first, and I don’t even recognize her anymore.

If the movie was a thank you to the marshmallows (both the fans and Veronica’s inner softness), the ending of the show was a middle finger to both. If the lesson from the series and the film is that you fight for things because they’re worth it and not because they come easily (whether they be relationships or towns), then the lesson from the revival is that the best thing to do is leave and take your bags. So much of the narrative was set up around Veronica accepting who she was and where she’s from - and the revival’s Veronica has finally been traumatized so much she’s packing her bags and giving up. That’s not toughness. That’s not strength. That’s certainly not saving the show or the character. 

That’s selling a grim story because you think it’s edgy. That’s trying to be subversive and failing, too focused on shock value to care about the characters. There’s a reason shows like Game of Thrones, Dexter, and How I Met Your Mother got such backlash -- they just don’t make narrative sense and the endings are far from satisfying. Making the fans happy isn’t a mark of bad storytelling, especially when the survival of your franchise has been so contingent on it. Sometimes, they actually do know what they’re talking about! And if you want a season five, maybe don’t alienate your fans to a point they don’t recognize the show anymore. Rob mentioned, “...I will have made a really bad bet if, en masse, the fans turn on the show. That would certainly be a tough lesson to learn.” -- I think he accomplished that! 

I wish the Veronica Mars that got me through the toughest parts of my life was still around. But I’d rather say goodbye to her forever than be faced with a cheap imitation. 

[tillman]

Hi, it's Valentine, back with another essay on Lancelot again. I’m deranged and you all have to accept this. Anyways this ones been a long time coming mostly because i'm lazy and only now had some free time to sit down and delve into so many sources to find quotes and proof for the main claim of this post: Mr Lancelot du Lac is an autistic man. Hes also trans and gay and i have proof for both of those (one is literally not even subtext) but those are for different essays. 

Anyways to start off with some smaller bits I wanna at least mention the history connecting autistic people with changelings or fae. The idea of a normal seeming child being “replaced” by something not entirely human to explain neurological differences has been around for a while and can tie in with a lot of autistic people's feelings of being different or completely disconnected from those around them. Thematically all of this ties in with Lancelot’s narrative of being “stolen away” by a fae as a child and coming back different. He grew up in a realm of fairies, and Chrétien de Troyes in Knight of the Cart, which may be the first story about Lancelot, simply calls his mother who in later texts grows to be the Lady of the Lake, “a fairy.” Another smaller point is Lancelot tends to go nonverbal when he gets extremely upset which is neat! One bit i can’t get a quote for (vulgate pdf when) is after Galehaut’s death, he locks up completely and his mother, the Lady, who is wonderful and perfect, explains the situation for him. You could also look at all the times Lancelot runs off into the woods and refuses to speak for a while for more proof of that. He does this a lot. It's just a thing people expect from him.

Anyways, I wanna talk about Lancelot’s inability to comprehend emotions or communication in general. Please, I've been dying to talk about Lancelot’s issues with communication for days. God he has them and I can relate so hard. Covering the dutch prose first just look at the story of the hart with the white foot. A lady comes to court talking about how whatever knight will get the foot of his hart will get her hand in marriage. Lancelot actually ends up missing the lady speak about what will happen, and after hearing Kay fail to do it, declares hell go after this hart instead. "When he heard this account / he spoke impetuously: / "By my faith, I fully intend / to follow this little dog.” He doesn’t think it though, he doesn't really know what he's getting into, Lancelot is just a yes man who likes doing knightly deeds. He has to in the end be rescued twice by Gawain, one from his fucking up while hunting the hart, and the other by accidently leading a lady on thinking that he’ll marry her, something Gawain negotiates Lancelot out of. Moving onto not the dutch prose since i just spent 3 hours reading up on it, let's move onto le morte.

Malory pulls a lot from the french sources, and i'll talk about what he left out in a sec cus . god. But I mostly want to touch on his relationship with two of the people he’s closest to, those being Guenevere and Gawain. Guenevere is a very weird case considering her literal emotional manipulation of him in moments he is very vulnerable and just how not great she is to him in general but his take on their relationship is honestly pretty easy to pin down. Lancelot honestly idolizes Guenevere, as his queen, as his lady, as a person who showed him basic respect when he first came to court. He has the mindset that a knight should love and do anything for his lady, and after Guenevere knights him really without any thought to what she was doing, he decided he would do anything for her. The vulgate does a better job dealing with their relationship through the mediator figure of Galehaut who is a whole other bag of worms, but Guenevere mostly indulges him for the fun of it. She sees that he’s a young knight who’s willing to die for her and uses this to her advantage politically and for other reasons. This constantly goes over Lancelot's head, until towards the end of le morte where he finally realizes how much he suffers for this relationship while she doesn't even care, “This is not the first time, said Sir Launcelot, that ye had been displeased with me causeless, but, madam, ever I must suffer you, but what sorrow I endure I take no force.” He resigns himself to put up with a relationship he admits is actively hurting him because he believes it’s love, and as a good knight, he should love his lady. His relationship with Gawain is less dicey, and more him constantly not getting Gawain’s implications. He admits to his love of Gawain only during their war saying in the vulgate, “But he will never be able to hate me so much that I stop loving him." Like. bold of him to just ignore all of Gawains previous advances until theyre in a life or death war. Bro accept your homoerotic rivals and move on already. 

Another casualty from Lancelot not realizing emotional connotations until too late is Galehaut, who literally dies of longing over the knight. Like Elaine of Astolat but worse because Galehauts just genuinely one of the best people in Arthurian literature. He doesn’t realize until too late that the person who actually loves him is the one willing to do anything for him, and ends up almost killing himself over Galehauts death. I have too much to say on that and it's not relevant to anything in this essay but god know i yearn over them all the time. 

Other thing is Lancelot has a lot of struggle with mental health anyways,  he really just truly is traumatized and that’s kinda fucked. He has a lot of problems with depression and poor coping mechanisms. I mean his main coping mechanism is falling asleep instead of dealing with the issues. That's not completely on topic but it's a big mood and ties in vaguely and also i don't have any other way to end this. There are way more bits to add but i am falling asleep at my desk and need to get lunch before it gets too late. Anyways this is probably not great i wrote this in 4 hours directly after waking up at 12 and spent 2 of those hours reading literary essays on the dutch romances. GOOD NIGHT .