#fucking fault isn’t it? you wanted a son when you were pregnant with me and when i came out to you at 14 you seemed really fucking upset

[flippedorbit]

you might as well just fucking call me by name at this fucking point

[scarlethexelove]

Gone

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1482

Warnings: Angst, Major Character Deaths, ⚠️Suicide⚠️, No happy ending.

Part 1: Please Don't Leave Me

A/n: So I tried to write a happy ending but I really just didn't like it at all. So my sleep deprived brain said fuck it and went all out. This broke my heart writing so enjoy the pain.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The room was mostly quiet. Nurses filed in and out as time passed. Slow tears still fell down Nat's cheeks as she waited. Xander slept soundly in her arms as she looked at his face. He looked so much like you already and her heart hurt. All she hopes is for you to pull through. It has been hours and the nurses refuse to tell her anything. She wants to make it right with you to build the family she never had, but she isn’t sure she will ever get the chance. 

A tear slips down Nat’s face onto Xander’s cheek. He scrunches his face up at the feeling but soon settles staying sound asleep. Nat is pulled out of her thoughts when the door opens. A gurney is wheeled in. Your body lying peacefully in the middle of the white sheets, but something isn’t right. You’re so pale and unmoving. She rushes over to you. Still holding Xander firmly she reaches for your hand. Words floating in the air but she can’t hear them. Her hand slips into yours and she almost recoils at the touch. You’re cold. 

Tears blur Nat’s eyes as she looks to the doctors. Their faces are full of sorrow and regret. “We tried everything we could but we couldn’t control the bleeding.” One male doctor who Nat has never seen speaks up. “W-what do you mean?” Her voice shakes. “She’s gone. I’m sorry.” He says. Nat shakes her head repeatedly saying no like her words could change the outcome. The word gone repeating in her head over and over again. You were gone and she couldn’t save you. 

The doctor slowly exits the room leaving a broken Natasha behind as she holds Xender close to her body. Her hand is now trembling holding yours. Tears falling freely down her face and down onto your pale skin. You look as though you’re sleeping, like she could shake you awake. Her heart is shattering in her chest. You are gone and you’re never coming back. Leaving her with your son. She doesn’t know how she can do this without you. You were always the best part of her. Without you all she is is a kill machine. Designed for death and destruction. That death and destruction is now taking you away from her and your son. She would do anything to trade places with you. To be the one laying in that bed cold and gone. 

The door slams open, hitting the wall harshly. A mix of fury and hurt on Wanda’s face. Her stride conveys her anger. Her eyes landing on your body as she bites the inside of her cheek trying to stay strong. Her gaze turned to the other red head in the room. Wanda points as Natasha. “You.” Wanda seethes. “You did this to her.” Her eyes turn a dangerous shade of red as she lets the anger take control. 

Natasha can’t help but lower her gaze, not able to face the other woman. “You fucking left her alone and pregnant. Now look at her.” Wanda demands. “I said look at her.” Nat’s gaze moves to your soft face. “She is fucking dead and it is all your fault.” Natasha is quiet as she speaks. “I know.” Wanda scoffs at her anger not yet dissipated. “She fucking loved you. Y/n fucking loved you more than anything but you couldn’t care less about her. All you cared about was your stupid job. You had the best possible woman at home and now you’ll never have that again. You didn’t deserve her and you sure as hell don’t deserve her son. He may be a part of you but I hope that he is all of her. That boy deserves much better than a deadbeat mother like you. You should be the one that is dead. One day I hope that this catches up to you and it fucking kills you.” The fury at Nat finally turning into sorrow at the loss of you. Her best friend will no longer be in her life and she doesn’t know how to live without you. 

Even though the both of them know that truely Nat had nothing to do with your death they both blame her. She blames herself, maybe you would be alive if she was around. Things could have been so different. You’re supposed to be a happy family and now you're gone. She tries to hold it together for as long as she can. Her legs are shaking as she tries to stay standing. Your loss cut her deeper than any wound she has ever had. 

Wanda is stroking your hair as she cries. She never expected to lose you. To lose another important person in her life but you're gone now and she can’t fix it. She can’t bring the dead back to life. 

Wanda can’t stand to see you like this anymore. She begins to move towards the door. As she does Nat’s legs give out under her as a sob racks her body. Xander cries at the sudden movement and as much as it pains Wanda to hear his cries she also knows she can’t do anything because Nat is still his mother. Wanda looks at Nat and shakes her head as the redhead cries on the floor clutching your son. “Pathetic.” Wanda murmurs as she exits the room. 

Nat knows that she has deserved everything that has come her way since your death. The Avengers are only helping her because of Alexander. But every single one of them is giving her the cold shoulder, even Clint. Their only focus has been to help Xander. She has become a shell of her former self as she refuses to eat or train. She spends whatever time she isn’t sleeping with Xander. It hurts her to see him. He is just a reminder of you and what she has lost. 

Today has been hard. No one is here to help her with Xander. Her mind racing with all the cold looks and hurtful words spewed her way. All of them ringing true in her mind she deserves all of it. All the hate and all the hurt. She looks at Xander sleeping peacefully in his crib. Her heart hurts as everything plays back. Wanda was right, she doesn’t deserve to be here. She knows what she has to do to make things right. 

Knocks on the door echo through the home. Wanda stops chopping her vegetables and placing the knife down on the counter. “Just a minute.” She calls out as she wipes her hands on the apron adorning her hips. She makes her way to the front door, not hearing the tell tell signs of an important news flash. Her hand on the handle twisting it open and pulling the door towards herself. To her surprise no one is there. Her brows furrow thinking maybe she just imagined it. She is about to close the door when she hears a cry. Wanda is caught off guard when she looks down and sees Alexander placed in a basket in front of her door.  

Wanda picks Xander up in her arms gently rocking him as she enters the house. “Vision!” She calls out as her mind begins to race. Where the hell is Natasha? Why was Xander left in a basket on her doorstep? Did Natasha leave him here? What the hell is going on?

A loud warning on the tv sounds and Wanda’s attention is drawn to the tv. A breaking news cast flashes on the screen. “Avenger Natasha Romanoff AKA Black Widow has been found dead in her home. At this time Police do not believe there has been any foul play involved. Some reports indicate a self inflicted wound. We will bring you more on this store as information is available.” The news caster disappears from the screen as it begins to play its regular programming. 

All Wanda can hear is the sound of blood rushing through her ears. Her head reeling from the information. This can’t be real can it. How can any of this be real? You are gone and now so is Natasha. Leaving Alexander with no parents. Breaking her heart as the reality that he is becoming just like her an orphan. 

Vision calls out to Wanda as she stares off into space. “Wanda?” Vision is able to finally break through to Wanda. She blinks her eyes not even noticing how they now shine with unshed tears. Her gaze met his confused one. He looks at Xander in her arms and back up to Wanda. 

Are Her words the cause of all of this? Did her words ring true? Wanda’s tearful gaze looking down at the bundled sleeping baby in her arms. Before looking back up to Vision. The only words that Wanda can manage to muster. “I killed her.”

Only time tag list: @fxckmiup @esposadejoyhuerta @megluv1 @leenasayeed @sgm616 @midastouch013 @ordelixx @simp4nat @dvrkhcld

[chosen-hero-inari]

Whumptober Day 13: Family Curses

A/n: Yoka Tono is @yumizurueleonora and my name for Arata's mom, we've written her a ton of times.

Hereditary

Oh, Arata thinks, I’m actually going to die.

He’s thought that before, when Souma had to leave to go the hospital first and foremost, but now he actually feels it.

Like something has a vice grip on his heart and the rest of him is wasting away. It hurts. It hurts so much.

Taiga was right, he was just avoiding the pain. This pain. And now that he knows he can't surpass RAD WEEKEND, it's going to kill him.

-

When Akito hears a knock at his door, he assumes it’s Ena and after the thrashing they just got from Taiga he doesn’t want to deal with her.

The knocking doesn’t go away after ignoring it, so finally Akito rolls off his bed.

“Go away shithead, I don’t–” the insult dies in his mouth when Akito sees his dad looking at him grimly.

“Akito, I need to talk to you,” Shinei says and hoo boy whatever Akito thought Ena was going to bug him about, he wants this even less.

“Ok?” Akito says, sitting at his desk while his father sits on his bed.

“So, Akito, I won’t ask for the details about whatever happened tonight,” Shinei starts and oh thank Miku for that. “But I’m going to guess something happened at your show, it went poorly, and you’re feeling very dejected right now.”

Understatement of the fucking century.

“But,” Shinei continues. “It’s probably good that this happened now and not when you’re older so you know how to deal with it. And Akito, no matter what happened or how bad you feel, you cannot give up on singing.”

Akito blinks. “What?”

“You cannot under any circumstances give up your creative passions after you turn 20.”

“Who are you and what did you do with my dad?” Akito asks. 

“Akito I’m being very serious right now.”

“Isn’t this like the exact opposite of what you told Ena?” Akito says. “Something about art being super lonely?”

“Ena isn’t cursed.”

“Excuse me?” 

Shinei is deathly serious. “The firstborn sons of the Shinonome family are cursed to die if they lose their drive to be creative after they turn 20.”

“What?”

“We all naturally have a passion for doing something creative, and if that drive is ever lost it will kill us,” Shinei says.

“If this is a joke, it REALLY isn’t funny.”

“Akito have I ever told a joke in your life?”

“Oh shit,” Akito says. Then his brain catches up with everything his dad says and he grabs his phone and starts texting

He sees a news alert before he can get the message out though.

Unidentified male, seemingly in his 20s, found collapsed…

“Crap,” Akito says. “Get in the car we have to go to the hospital.”

“What?” Shinei asks. “Why?”

“Because I’m not your firstborn son

-

Souma has to beg the nurses to let him see Arata. 

The doctors don’t know what’s wrong with him, but they’re doing everything they can to keep him alive.

It was Akito who texted Toya, and since Toya knew Arata was at the hospital a lot, asked if one of Souma’s nurses could confirm his identity.

After that they were reluctant to let Souma see him because of what was going on, but eventually they relented.

Dying.

How could Arata be dying? Souma was supposed to die first, probably should have in the initial car crash.

Arata has a perfect bill of health; he can’t just collapse with some unknown condition!

But there he is, lying on a hospital bed, with vitals Souma knows too well means things are bad, impossibly pale.

He grasps Arata’s hand in his good one and doesn’t let go, even as Yoka arrives and starts crying, and Toya, An, and Kohane show up to comfort him.

An looks like she’s already been crying today, but Souma doesn’t ask. 

Finally, Akito arrives with a man who does kind of look like Arata.

“Hello,” the man with Akito says. “I’m Shinei Shinonome, I believe this is my fault?”

Yoka spins around and slaps him, and Shinei nods.

“I probably deserved that. I’m so sorry Yuma, I didn’t know you were pregnant.”

“It’s Yoka.”

“Oh,” Shinei says. “Just slap me again if you want.”

“What I want is to know what’s going on with my son.”

“Right. Ok so, the firstborn sons of the Shinonome family are afflicted with a curse that hits when they become 20. After that point if they lose their creative drive, they die.”

“Arata… lost his creative drive?” Souma gasps.

“Him, along with everyone else in our group,” Kohane mutters. “Taiga decided to challenge us to show us we couldn’t surpass RAD WEEKEND.”

Souma winces “It went that badly?”

“Yeah,” An says. “Aunt Nagi’s dead.”

“She died at your show?!”

“No, she’s been dead for three years and everyone in town knew except us.”

“What about Arata?” Souma says instead of processing that. “Even if Taiga was tough and Nagi was dead he wouldn’t just give up–”

“Taiga told him he’d never be able to surpass RAD WEEKEND because he didn’t really care about it.” Toya says, “because really all he cared about was keeping his promise to you.”

Taiga… used Souma to hurt Arata? Lead him to almost die (albeit unintentionally on Taiga’s part)?!

Souma takes a deep breath and turns back to Arata. “Hey, partner, I know you can hear me. I’m sorry about what Taiga said to you. He’s a bastard. Anyway, apparently you need to keep being creative or you’ll die, and I know this is selfish, but I need you to live for me, partner. Don’t keep being a singer if you don’t want to, write, or draw, or do anything. I don’t care, but I love you partner and I need you to live!”

Souma repeats “I need you to live” like it’s a prayer, and soon he feels movement in his hand. He jerks his head up. “Arata?!”

“Hey, partner,” Arata says weakly. “What happened?” Arata takes a look around the room and his smile drops. “What the hell are the rest of you doing here?”

“Glad you’re ok,” Akito says. “Anyway, it turns out you inherited a curse from our dad.”

“Oh of fucking course,” Arata says. “God, anything else I need to know about?”

“Please tell me you don’t have a second family curse,” Yoka says.

“No,” Shinei says. “We used to think there was another one, but when I was a kid we figured out that autism was just really common in my family so other than those, that should be everything.”

“What about the allergy to penicillin?” Akito asks.

“That’s your mother’s side of the family.”

“Great well if you haven’t given me any more troubles can you get out? I’m having a moment with my partner here. The rest of you leave too.”

“Excuse me?” Yoka says. “You just nearly died, I don’t care how much you love Souma, you’re not kicking me out.”

“Ok fine, everyone except my mom and my partner get the hell out.”

“Glad you’re not dead, by the way,” An says. “You know the worst day of my life would be even worse if that happened. Still doing shit otherwise, thanks for asking.”

“Oh my god, we’ll deal with that later.”

“I want to point out that I’m the one who realized you might die and rushed over here,” Akito says.

“Thank you, now get out.”

Everyone except Yoka leaves, and Arata smiles the prettiest smile in the world.

“I guess we’ll have to stay partners,” Arata says. “Or else I’ll die. How could I possibly have any creative drive without you?”

“Oh no, how terrible,” Souma says, and he doesn’t hesitate. He leans in to kiss Arata for the first time in far too long.

[sissytobitch10seconds]

My Delicate Love

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Summary: He should be focused on his complicated feelings for Kate Sharma and his failed marriage to Edwina Sharma. He should be focused on the books for the estate he inherited too early. Instead, all he can think about is his daughter. Warnings: Parent death, mpreg, carrierverse, breach birth, birth, and complicated family dynamics Word Count: 7,625 Ship(s): Anthony Bridgerton & Hyacinth Bridgerton

Archive link!

A/N: On this week's episode of me writing whatever the fuck I want: Anthony Bridgerton mpreg. I hope you guys enjoy, this fic gave me brainrot for literally weeks! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

Anthony let the packet of papers that he was meant to be going through fall back down onto the desk. He had really been letting things get away from him recently, but he wasn’t sure that was directly his fault. He felt bogged down with everything that had happened recently, so it was hardly out of the question for him to be distracted.

He had tried to trick himself into thinking that it was a good idea to propose to the wrong woman simply because she was the Diamond of the Season, picked by their rather fickle queen. He didn’t love Edwina, but he had tried to cut his heart off from loving people not long after his father’s death and the events that had followed. He had let Siena in and then she had proven why that was a bad idea, he had tried to let Kate in and then fumbled it so badly that it felt as though everyone in the world hated him for it.

He turned his head to look out of the window next to the desk in his office. This time, as his gaze made the journey, he let it travel over every single thing in the room. He usually skipped all of it so that he could focus on the ever changing nature of the land outside of their ancestral estate. It made him too sad to think about what his father had done while sitting in the very place that Anthony was currently residing.

Along the wall that held the grand fireplace, barren because of the mid-summer heat, sat the painting that Anthony had hung there many years ago but never once properly looked at. He had kept up the portrait of his father that his mother had threatened to get rid of just after the funeral. It was the last portrait that he had ever sat for, the singular one where his wife or children were not also with him. It was a fond memory, the father that he remembered captured in every brushstroke so that he could look back on the man fondly. Every memory that he had outside of the portrait itself had been tainted by his father’s death.

---

“Come on, Anthony. Surely pregnancy isn’t slowing you down that badly,” Edmund jested lightly as they finished walking out of the forest and onto the neatly trimmed grass of the green. 

“I think that you would feel the same if you had something the size of a chamber pot strapped to your body, Father,” Anthony replied bitterly. The entire pregnancy had put him in a sour mood, even though he knew that he had it better than most men in his situation.

The landscape for carriers had improved greatly in the last hundred or so years, ever since the eldest of King George I sons had been found out to be one. It was still considered shameful to fall pregnant when not married, but it was actually legal for two men to marry now so that children could be considered to be legitimate. In conservative and traditional circles, even married carriers were considered with about the same level and class as women that worked as actresses or musicians.

Anthony had played around with quite a few of the boys that he had gone to school with when he was at Oxford. It was standard given the fact that the brothels were watched to make sure that none of them strayed there too often. They had to get the hormones and energy out of themselves somehow, especially after a day being shuttered away in dusty rooms while listening to lectures for hours on end. Most of the boys were able to come away without a single thing to show for it other than a calmer disposition or a tighter friendship. A few of the boys that Anthony had gone to school with were apparently considering marriage, either with each other or with siblings so that they could remain close, but none of them had ended up as Anthony had.

His pregnancy had begun with dizzy spells and a heightened sense of smell. His mother had immediately recognized what had happened and forced his father to send them back to Aubrey Hall. The family usually resided in London during the season, but it wouldn’t be safe for Anthony to be out in public when he was carrying a shame in his belly. 

He touched the swell of his bump as the thought crossed his mind. He did not consider his child to be a shame, or even a mistake for that matter. He did not know who the father was, which was why they had constructed the rather convoluted plan that they had. He wasn’t able to marry the person that had gotten him pregnant, but he still loved his baby. He knew that they would be cherished even if they were going to be passed off as one of his siblings.

“I thought that you would enjoy coming hunting with me. You’ve been complaining about being cooped up in the house for days. I was sure that Benedict was going to throw himself out of a tree again,” Edmund joked. He paused when they began to crest up the small hill that brought them to a collection of flowers. It was a kindness that Anthony didn’t have to thank him for, since he was the father of seven children and knew pregnancy well.

He paused once he got to the top of the hill, placing his hand on the small of his back and the other on his stomach as he heaved in breath. At least when he was away in the country instead of attending to business in London. It meant that he was able to stay away from the specialized corset they had ordered. It was uncomfortable to have his child nestled even deeper inside of him than they already were, especially with how little room his lungs had. “I do not think that something as active as hunting is as good for me as I thought it would be,” he commented.

“You should have listened to your mother. She’s only done this seven times,” Edmund replied. 

Anthony resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was glad that even though his parents saw this as something that was a bit shameful and needed to be hidden away from society, they still loved him enough to support him throughout his pregnancy. They had made sure that he was comfortable and had good healthcare from someone that wouldn’t spread the news of his condition throughout the entirety of the Ton. His mother had been basically glued to his side throughout the duration as well, making sure that his heartburn and morning sickness wasn’t too bad and fixing the nightmares when they plagued him.

“Speaking of the woman, I think that we should bring her back a gift. She nearly got a in a row with me yesterday night when I said that I would be taking you out today, you know,” his father explained. He handed his son the gun that had been clutched in his hand as they made their way through the paths of the forest.

He took the gun and then shifted it around so that he could hold it with his own, both of them under his shoulder. He pressed his hand to the base of his belly as he felt a tiny foot kick at his hip, as if to let him know that they were awake and wanted attention. He turned back to his father as he watched him search through the flowers until he had found one that had not a single wilting blossom, “These are your mother’s favorites. Make sure that you learn the favorite of your future spouse, Anthony.”

“I will, Father,” he replied with a small smile. He knew that his life had been turned upside down by the pregnancy, but the idea of getting to have a relationship like his parents had never failed to make him feel more chipper. He wanted to be loved and cared for by the person that he ended up marrying during the next pregnancy, whether that was carried by him or the other.

Edmund fiddled with the flower before he jerked back. “Infernal insect,” he mumbled as he tried to swat at the buzzing spot in front of him. He sucked in a tight breath as the bee stung him and he smacked at the wound to finally kill the bug. 

“Father?” Anthony asked when he noticed the sudden change in the air. He set the guns down so that the barrels were up towards the sky and he could shift a bit easier. The weight on his stomach made it exceptionally harder, but the worry that was easing its way into his veins made him almost forget that he was supposed to be uncomfortable.

“Anthony,” Edmund barely managed to get out. The wound on the side of his neck was already swelling substantially, making it look as though he had suddenly caught a case of the mumps.

“Father!” he cried out as his father took a step forward and then stumbled, falling down to his knees. Anthony lowered himself down quicker than someone that was nine months pregnant should have been able to. Despite the rapid kicking against his skin and the aching pain along the base of his spine, all he could focus on was the fact that Edmund wasn’t breathing as he was supposed to. He turned back in the direction of the house as he screamed, “Help! Someone, please help!”

His mother rushed out before he had even gotten the second word out. She had probably been pacing in the parlor that led out to the gardens while waiting for him, it was something she had begun doing more often since the doctor had confirmed Anthony’s pregnancy.

She dropped down to her knees without a second thought to her dress as she grasped her husband away from her son. She held his head in her lap and brushed her fingers over the side of his face. “Edmund, Edmund, my love you must breathe,” she instructed. He continued to gasp as his eyes slowly glazed over, becoming more indistinct.

All Anthony could do was sit there as his stomach wrapped in a nasty vice and he watched the life drain from his father. Violet, on the other hand, was going through every emotion at once. Tears rushed down her face and wet the neckline of her gown while she shouted, “Anthony, the children! Anthony!”

He forced himself to his feet and then ushered them all inside. He closed the door behind him, leaving his parents in the last couple moments that they would ever have together. His mind was still reeling with the fact that his father was now dead, had died from something so small and innocuous. They had all gotten insect bites before and yet none of them had ever died from it. 

His head was swimming with a mix of grief and panic as everything continued happening around him. He called for a doctor, refused to take the rooms that were meant to belong to the Vicount Bridgerton, and then made sure that his siblings were taken care of. Throughout the entire process, he also had to attend to his grieving mother and ignore the pregnancy hanging heavy on the front of his body.

---

Anthony brushed one of his fingers over the chapped edge of his lip. He had been worrying it nonstop since his kiss with Kate in the church, as if that would somehow rid him of the sin that he had committed. He remembered the way that the sisters, once so close to each other that they had been conjoined at the hip, looked at each other on that day. He knew that he had never had that relationship with any of his siblings, but it still made him worry. Secrets were something that tore people apart, he had seen it happen between him and Siena and then it had almost happened with Daphne and Simon. He didn’t want that to be the future that he looked forward to.

He rose from his desk and walked out into the hallway, flagging down one of the maids that was scurrying along to complete her job. She had been working with them for as long as Anthony could remember, so it felt fitting that she would be helping him during this part of his life as well. “Have Gregory and Hyacinth gone to bed?”

“No, sir,” she shook her head. The sun stayed up late during the warm summer months, which usually meant that the two youngest Bridgertons would be ushered into their beds when the light was still pouring into their windows. He wasn’t quite sure what time it was, but when it was before dark and after dinner there was always a chance that he had missed the slim margin of time that they had before they retired.

“Would you mind collecting Hyacinth for me? I have something I wish to discuss with her,” he said. He knew that this time of night his mother would be in her sitting room, reading or working on her embroidery. Eloise likely would have already retired to bed, Francesca was away in Bath again, Benedict was rarely ever home, and Gregory was meant to be studying on his own. Colin certainly wouldn’t be with their mother, which meant that she would be alone so that Anthony could actually talk to her.

“Of course, my lord,” the maid bowed her head respectfully before she set off to finish her task and then do as he had asked of her. As soon as she had, Anthony walked down the hall in the direction of his mother.

Once he got there, he gave a polite knock and entered. She was sitting on the settee near the fire while embroidering a small strip of blue cloth. It was likely meant for a baptismal dress, long and narrow enough to fit around a hem that was hanging on someone very small. She looked at peace for the first time since he had decided that he wanted to marry, which meant that he was about to ruin her evening once again. Still, he had decided that there would be no more secrets kept and that included with his mother, “Mama, I have something that I need to talk to you about.”

“Please don’t let it be another wedding, my heart can’t handle that right now,” she groaned as she set her embroidery down in her lap.

“It’s not, I can promise you that,” he chuckled as he entered. He sat down on the chair next to the window and closer to the fire, which had worse light because of the house’s positioning. “I have decided that I am going to tell Hyacinth.”

Her eyes widened to the size of the moon and her mouth dropped open with the shock of it. He didn’t think that she had been as surprised as she was now when he had told her that he intended to marry. She placed her sewing down next to her and then shuffled to the edge of the couch so that she could reach out and touch his hand. “Anthony, my dear, are you certain? She is still so young and so much has already happened.”

“I’m not going to let us be torn apart the way that the Sharmas are. I’m the head of this family the way that Kate was the head of theirs, I need to learn from her mistakes and make sure that we can all still love and trust each other,” he explained. It made his heart ache to think of the woman that he loved in such a way, but if he had learned anything from his dearest friend it was that sometimes someone could make a mistake and love could still blossom from them. The same would have to be true for him and Kate. They had made a far worse mistake than Simon and Daphne had, but things had a way of working themselves out.

He ducked his head slightly as the grief of the entire situation threatened to overwhelm him. Violet rubbed her thumb over the edge of his hand and then said, “That’s not all, is it, dearest?”

“No,” he shook his head. It was something that he hadn’t wanted to admit to himself since before his father had died, but had only traveled to the front of his brain since he had seen his sister and baby Auggie. “I want to be able to know my daughter as my daughter. I know that it could damage my reputation if word got out, but I fear that if I don’t tell her now I will always be her older brother and I will never get the chance to be her father, as I should be.”

His mother’s face softened as she reached out and placed her hand on his cheek. It felt like he was young again, barely old enough to be away from his nanny and instead with a governess. He had wanted to be held like that for so long and now he was finally getting it, which made him feel as though his heart was bleeding in his chest.

“You have always deserved to get to be her father, Anthony. I should have been there for you after she was born so that I could have helped you find the balance. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to do that, I promise to try and do better in the future,” she said. He could hear the warble in her voice that meant that she was close to crying and wished that he could hug her to make up for it. That much emotional vulnerability had to be saved for the other special lady in the house today, so all he managed to do was give her cheek a quick peck.

“Thank you for your encouragement, Mama. I’ll come and discuss it with you after it’s over,” he said.

She shook her head, “You talk to your daughter and enjoy your time with her as her father for the first time, Anthony. I’ll be fine until the morning.”

He chuckled at the implication that she would hear about it no matter what and it was simply a matter of what time. He gave her a nervous smile before he turned on his heel and walked back out into the hall. God was either smiling or frowning on him because as soon as he closed the door to the study, he heard the voice of the very girl he had been thinking about all evening. “Anthony? They said that you wanted to talk to me about something?” Hyacinth asked as she quickly jogged over to him.

He placed his hand down on her shoulder and resisted the urge to just bring her into a hug. She looked so much like him and almost nothing like the boy that had been her sire. It was a good thing that the Bridgerton boys all looked so similar, because otherwise it would have been a massive question about where she had come from. The girls all looked fairly different anyway.

“I did,” he nodded. “Come with me to my office, this is a discussion that is going to take quite a while.”

She looked at him with the knot in his brow that she had pulled directly from him, which made his heart ache in his chest. He should have done this far sooner than he had, and he likely would have had his father not died so soon before she was born. He gave a nod to the maid that had been escorting her and then guided Hyacinth the rest of the way down the hall.

Once they were in his office, he brought her over to the chairs in front of the fireplace and then sat down in front of her. “Hyacinth, before I begin I would like you to know that nothing I have ever done has been to hurt you. I love you dearly and always wanted you to be safe.”

“I know that, brother,” she giggled.

It broke his heart to hear her say that to him, every single time she had since she had started talking. He knew that was why he had pulled away from her, and subsequently his little brother, all those years ago. “If you need to stop at any point so that you can think about what we’re talking about, just let me know. I want you to be comfortable.”

She clenched her hands together in her lap and began to fidget nervously. Even though he had barely been able to spend any time with her in the last seven years of her life, he knew that she had gotten that from him. It was one of the hardest habits that he had ever had to break, one that had gotten his first tutor sent home for punishing him about. “I’m a little bit scared of this conversation now,” she admitted.

“You don’t have to be scared, I just want you to know that it’s going to be serious,” he explained. “This is something I wanted to tell you when you got older but I think that the sooner the information is out the better it will be for the entire family.”

Hyacinth pursed her lips, the perfect shape for the lipstick that Daphne favored, and looked every bit her carrier. “Alright.”

“Hyacinth, you are my daughter,” he blurted out all at once. If he had decided that he was going to do this and then taken a night or more to think about it, he might have had a better way to articulate it. He might have been able to think of a way to let her know that the discussion wasn’t a prank and was the truth without scaring her. There were so many things in Anthony’s life that he wanted to go back and fix, and yet none of them were reachable to him now.

Her lips quirked up in a smile and she tilted her head to the side, causing her near-black ringlets to go cascading over her shoulder. “What? No, silly! I’m your sister.”

“That was what we had to tell you to keep you safe,” he shook his head. “You are my daughter and you always have been.”

“But you’re not married. Mama said that babies come after someone gets married, like Daphne and Lord Mort,” Hyacinth objected.

At the mention of her favorite fiction series of the month, Anthony couldn’t help the smile that broke over his face. He would have given almost anything to have been more involved in her life so that he could know about the carrier-centered story that she was reading about to teach her more of the real world. He just shuffled forward on his chair the same way that his mother had done to him and then grasped her hand, “Babies are something that happen when one is married, but they can also happen when one is unwed. It’s not something that is supposed to happen and can only happen if one is careless with someone they are courting.”

It was awkward to have to divert around the reality of how she had come about, but she was only ten. She didn’t need to know the gritty details of how he had fallen pregnant and why they had to make the decision to hide her true lineage. She only needed to know where she really fit into the family and that she was adored beyond all belief. 

Hyacinth contemplated this for a moment, tilting her head down towards their hands and then looking over to the crackling fire in the hearth. “Wait, so Mama is really…” she trailed off.

“Yes, she is really your Grandmama. You are her eldest grandchild,” he explained.

She thought about it for a minute, kicking her feet back and forth as a way to get through the majority of her restless energy. He knew what that felt like, especially since she had plagued him with it through the duration of his pregnancy. “Is it really dangerous for people to know that you’re my papa?” she asked.

“It is,” he nodded. “The Ton and the church don’t like it when people have children outside of marriage, and unfortunately your sire had already moved to an entirely different continent by the time I found out about you. That was why we had to pretend as though you were another child from my mama and papa,” he explained.

She nodded sagely, as if this wasn’t the biggest thing that she had ever been told in her entire life. “Am I going to get to call you papa now?”

“If you would like, but only when we don’t have company over. It is something that must remain quiet, between only the family. I’m not sure that Francesca and Gregory even remember the night that you were born or the months before it,” he chuckled. It was more something that he was saying to himself, something that he was using to get through the trauma of having the secret revealed instead of living in the place inside of him that she had once taken up.

“What was my birth like?” Hyacinth asked, the question coming seemingly out of the blue.

“I’m sorry?”

“I learned about birth recently, because the heifer in the nearby village was calving when Gregory and I went on our most recent nature walk. I asked Grandmama what birth was like because Governess Sarah has no children and she told me what mine was like, but I want to hear it from you! You are the one that birthed me, aren’t you, Papa?” she asked.

She was so eagerly accepting what he had given her. He had expected that she would have taken it poorly, that she wouldn’t have believed him or would have been mad that he had taken those parental chances away from her. She seemed just excited, plain and simple. 

He should have expected that instead of fearing the worst, she had always been a chipper baby. She was also a problem when she was younger, always in the wrong position to be swaddled or to feed properly. “Come, I’ll tell you what it was like,” he said as he sat back in his chair and then patted his lap.

Hyacinth slipped out of her chair and then bounced over to him with her curls rapidly leaving the thin braids meant to contain them earlier in the day. He placed his hands on her hips and then picked her up as she jumped into his lap, placing her head down on his shoulder. Anthony brushed his thumb over her shoulder like his father had done to him every time that he had scraped his knee or a thunderstorm rolled in. His mind drifted away from him as he thought about what her birth had been like, since it was a memory that he had tried to hide away from even himself for so long.

---

A lot more went into running the estate than Anthony had originally anticipated. He had known to some extent what he had to do since he was the oldest son, even if he was a carrier, and thus had been trained on it since he had started doing upper levels in school. Seeing what his father did on a daily basis and being given some of the papers so that he could prepare was nothing compared to having to take it all on at once.

He had to make sure that the villages they oversaw on their land were being handled, that the staff was being paid, that his siblings were getting the education that they needed, that the property in London was being tended to as it needed, and that his mother was in an alright state. On top of all that, he was still wading through the last few months of his pregnancy but now sans the careful love and consideration from his parents.

He knew that his father would have been at his side through every moment of it, had Anthony not been preparing for the funeral that would take him away from them all. His mother was grieving so deeply that she barely even seemed to register that she was still breathing. Anthony desperately tried to give her the grace that she deserved in that time, but he still needed her. He couldn’t cope with the idea of having his baby without his mother by his side and yet the last four times he had woken with screaming nightmares, she hadn’t been there.

Outside of his daily tasks, what he had to do was already slowing down. He was allowed more time to rest between the bouts of paperwork that he had to do to take over the estates and title. There was to be a meeting with some of the royals at the palace, but that wasn’t something that Anthony could take until after the baby had arrived.

As if realizing that their parent was thinking of them, he felt a tiny foot punch into his back. He was exhausted and in pain, but he let a small smile cross his face as he dropped his hand down over his gravid belly to where the appendage had been. He was looking for the silver linings in his days, the things that were good around the paperwork and pain, and having them there was one of them. He could appreciate them fully now that he wasn’t constrained by the special-made corsets meant to make a bump look more delicate.

Just as it had a dozen times prior, a pain began to creep up the the base of his spine. It flared out over his hips and then spread around to his belly, grasping at every single muscle and making it contract. It felt as it did when he woke up from a bad dream or when he was preparing for one of the other boys at his school to barrel into him. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but his mother had assured him that was a normal thing to experience in pregnancy.

The only problem was that he hadn’t felt them with that kind of frequency throughout the entire duration and it was beginning to concern him. He wished that he could get up and find his mother or his father, that he could lean into their sides and cry while he told them how scared he was. He couldn’t, because his father had just been lowered into the ground and his mother was swimming so deeply in grief he was sure that she barely remembered his name.

So he continued working, late into the night. He rose and had dinner with his siblings as he had done every night since their father had passed away. He still couldn’t bring himself to sit at the head of the table or where their mother had sat, even if that was the place where the two people in power sat. After dinner was finished, he made sure the children were put to bed and then collapsed in his office.

The pain had only gotten worse after he had eaten, and he hadn’t managed to keep that much down. “Smith!” he called as another one of the pains began to race through him. 

The valet appeared immediately, his brows knit with worry and his body fidgeting with the urge to do something. “Yes, my lord?” he asked.

“I believe that you need to call for the doctor,” Anthony gasped out. He didn’t know what was happening to his body, but he was beginning to remember what his mother had told him. She only knew what it was like to go into labor as a woman and not a carrier, but before her grief she had tried to prepare him as best she could.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask for him, my lord,” the man said with a sharp nod of his head. He departed from the room and went to fetch the doctor, who would likely bring the midwife with him. A midwife had delivered every Bridgerton child since Anthony himself, which was why his parents had encouraged him to find one on when they found out about his pregnancy.

He left his office and went to his bedroom, changing into something comfortable and trying to ease the pain while he waited.

Anthony shifted on his bed so that he was leaning against the headboard with one hand on the bottom of his stomach. His mother had advised him on the breathing techniques that he was supposed to use and how swaying could help when he had felt the quickening, which had confirmed that a viable pregnancy was underway. He wished that she was there with him so that she could repeat the things that she had once said to him, but she was not so he had to make due on his own.

It took a while longer for the doctor and the midwife to arrive, but he wasn’t able to figure out how long that was. The only thing that existed in that time was him and his baby, and the wretched pain that kept bringing his mind away from the tiny thing growing inside of him. “We’re going to take care of you, my lord,” the midwife assured him.

“You’re about to see the most intimate part of my life, I think that you can call me Anthony,” he replied sourly. He hadn’t even looked up when they had arrived in his room, instead focusing on shifting his weight from one leg to another.

The midwife placed her hand on his lower back the way that his mother always had when she was guiding him through their home. He longed for her so badly, especially because the pain was beginning to get to him. “I want you to lay down and take off your lower clothes so that I may check you the way that I did during your last appointment.”

“I am going to step out into the parlor across the way, call me if you need assistance with the baby. I trust that Nancy will be able to handle it,” the doctor said when he realized that what was happening was a birth and not an illness that he could cure with bloodletting.

Anthony didn’t bother to say anything. Getting down onto the bed shifted the weight of his unborn babe inside of him, which meant that there was more pressure with every contraction that he got. Since he had moved from his office to his bedroom, he had accepted the fact that he was in labor despite the terror that idea brought with him. He struggled to get his pants down and then leaned back against the pillows so that the midwife could do as she needed to.

It was uncomfortable to have his cervix checked, but it was important for the delivery of the babe so he refused to let any noise of discomfort emanate past his lips. His hands grasped at the sheets underneath him and he wished that he could grasp at someone, that there was a person beside him other than the maid that had just bustled in with stacks of towels and warm water. “I think that we’re well on our way to having a baby tonight, Lord Bridgerton,” the midwife informed him. “I can already feel the head engaging through your waters, so we have to wait for them to break and then we can assess when you will start pushing.”

The entire business sounded so overwhelming that all he wanted to do was cry. He was the head of an estate and a man pregnant out of wedlock, though, so he tried not to think of it while he slipped out of the bed again. If the doctor had been the one leading his delivery then he would have been confined to the mattress, which was one of the reasons that his parents had insisted that he go with a midwife as they had. 

He was allowed to pace around the room throughout his contractions, which helped with the nervous energy that had slowly been growing inside him while he waited for help to arrive. He paused every time another one of the pains began to roll over him, grasping at something that usually turned out to be a member of the staff or the midwife herself. He was ushered back to the bed when his waters broke down his legs and she checked again. It was then that she took a step back, her face pale. 

“What’s going on?” Anthony mumbled, lost in the haze of pain and his throat aching. At some point he had begun shouting with each of the contractions when they reached their apex. It wasn’t a scream, more of a roiling groan but it was loud enough that it had torn at his vocal cords.

“I believe that the baby is frank breach,” she explained. “When I thought that I felt the head earlier, it turns out that it was actually the bum. I’m going to have to speak to the doctor, I’ll be back in a moment.”

The door swung shut and suddenly he was alone. The universe was frowning upon him because as soon as she had fully left, he had to deal with the first contraction since his water had broken. The pain of it was so much more intense now that the cushion between his muscles and the babe was gone, amplified by the fact that he was laying down instead of upright as he had been through the majority of his labor.

He was scared, above all else. He didn’t know what was going to happen from this point on. He knew only what his mother had explained to him and all of his thoughts were in a muddled jumble. He hadn’t heard of that happening during a delivery and he was scared for his unborn babe. He wanted someone to be with him. He wanted someone to hold him in their arms and tell him that it was all going to be alright.

“Mama!” he shouted before he even realized that he was doing it. He walked down to the end of his bed and placed his hands along the baseboard, gripping so tightly around the wood that he could almost hear it cracking. “Mama!”

The doctor and the midwife returned to him, both of them preparing their instruments. “My lord, we need you to answer a question for the both of us. If it comes down to it, do you want us to save the heir or yourself?”

“What?” Anthony asked, the fear radiating all the way through him. He had heard of surgeries being required to birth a baby, but he had never contemplated that happening to himself. He had always imagined the birth happening with his midwife and mother by his side, painful but endurable for the wonderful reward of getting to meet his babe properly.

“Do you want us to save you or the babe?” the midwife asked. “I don’t think that it will come down to that, but we do need to know just in case.”

“I do not want to have to choose between myself and my baby,” he cried. “I want my mother, please can someone get my mother?”

“We do not have time for that, my lord,” the midwife replied as she placed her hand on his lower back. It helped alleviate some of the pressure from his contraction like he had wanted since he had gone into labor.

He bent his head forward so that his forehead was resting on the edge of his hands even though it tilted his hips in an odd direction. He couldn’t care about the pain that was building up inside of him with every contraction, only the fact that he was scared and felt like nothing more than a child himself. “MAMA! Please, Mama!”

The midwife tutted comfortingly. She and the doctor worked to get the pillows and blankets behind Anthony on the bed before they lowered him down so that his bottom was hanging over the edge of the mattress and he was leaning back against them. It was uncomfortable and exposed him to an absurd degree, but he could barely even manage that thought around his fear. “You have to push now,” the midwife said.

“Mama!” Anthony screamed. He reached out to the side and grasped at the sheets so tightly that his knuckles turned a blinding white. He clenched his eyes shut and grit his teeth when he pushed, then used the breath that he sucked in after the contraction was done to call for his mother.

When he flopped back onto the bed, instructed not to push for a moment, he heard his brother’s voice down the hall. “Let me go to him! He’s in distress! If our mother cannot then someone must and I am the oldest after Ant,” Benedict cried. He was so young and sounded just as upset as Anthony felt. Someone was arguing with him in a tone that was much quieter, assuring him that things were underway.

He forgot it almost immediately as he was told to push again. It only took about ten minutes of the effort before the head was born from him and his body collapsed back into nothingness. He only came back to himself when the squirming, squalling bundle of baby girl was placed into his arms.

---

That memory was certainly not suited to a young child like the only curled around his torso. So instead, he told her, “It was very dark and stormy. I hurt quite a lot and I was very scared, I think I made quite the racket while trying to get Grandmama to come to me so that I didn’t have to be scared any longer. I likely kept all your aunts and uncles up all night.”

“And yet they do not remember?” she asked, seemingly astounded. He knew that she was a light sleeper and always rose when there was even someone sneezing in the room next to her, so he could understand how that was confusing for her.

“They were too young, all but Uncle Benedict. Eventually Grandmama had to get him to stay with Uncle Colin to stop them both from having a fright,” he began to pet her hair softly and she melted into him. He kissed the edge of her forehead as he continued, “I was scared because I didn’t want to let you go, but none of it mattered when you were actually there. The doctor put you down in my arms and I knew that you were going to be the smartest, prettiest girl in the entire world. And here you are, and I finally get to have you.”

She looked up at him with his own eyes, not like his siblings but the ones that he had passed down to her as she grew in his womb. “I still can’t believe that none of the others knew about this. How could they not if they were so stressed about me being born?”

“They’ve forgotten,” he said softly. “Grandmama knew, and Uncle Benedict. I think that Aunt Daphne and Uncle Colin have some memory of me being pregnant, but not enough to know what it meant.”

“Was that because Pa-Grandpapa,” she flushed and smiled like she had just been told that she was going to have a surprise party for her birthday. He knew that it was going to be a massive change for her, something that she was going to make mistakes on for a while. “Was that because Grandpapa had just died?”

Anthony felt his heart skip a beat in his chest, as if to remind him how terrifying those few moments were. “Yes. Many of the younger children forgot that time because it was so sad for them.”

She nodded and curled further against him. “I was always sad that I never got the chance to know him. Grandmama would never speak of him for longer than a couple of minutes and the stories always said that a father should be there to protect and care for his daughters.”

“The stories are right. I’m sorry that I was not there to do it during your biggest growing years, but I promise you that I wanted to be. And I am going to right that wrong going forward,” Anthony said. He tilted her head up with his hand and then planted a kiss on her forehead, which made her giggle. He was suddenly transported back to when she was only two, her arms and face still round with fat from when she had been born and sweaty with baby-sleep.

“I’m glad that I will get to know you, Papa,” Hyacinth informed him as she wrapped her arms tightly around his middle.

It was late, he needed to send her with a maid to get to bed. Then he recalled what his mother had said and decided that it could wait. For now, it was going to be only them in the light of the dying lamps, sharing the bond that only carrier and child could have. “I am too, my little flower.”

[aajjks]

TPOL!JK

“wait, what? WHAT IS GOING ON?! is-is that true chaeyoung? jeon jungkook, NO! THAT IS NOT HOW YOU HANDLE A PREGNANT WOMAN! SHE’S HAVING YOUR BABY!!” yells ji-ae as she watches her son throw chaeyoung out of her home and that’s what makes your head perk up. you look up to see chaeyoung yelling “YOU WERE THE ONLY PERSON I HAD SEX WITH AND YOU KNOW IT!!! THIS IS YOUR BABY!!”

once chaeyoung is out of the house, jungkook shuts and locks the door while chaeyoung is on the other side banging and begging for ji-ae to let her back in. “pleaseeeee, jungkook. pleaseeeee” chaeyoung cries and ji-ae is still in disbelief with what happened just now.

her son just revealed that chaeyoung hurt you and your friends, called the cops, and now here she is pregnant with his baby. it’s all too much and ji-ae doesn’t know whether to curse her son out for yelling at her or cry because he really is turning out like his father in her eyes.

the manhandling he did to poor chaeyoung makes her worry for her health. sure chaeyoung isn’t the purest. she did say she seemed a little too nice and always preferred you with jungkook but that doesn’t mean roughening her up if what she says is true.

chaeyoung is outside walking back to her car in tears. screaming and crying at the altercation that just took place because there he goes again talking about you. it’s always you, you, you.

why you?

you’re just some plain girl who works as a veterinarian. even at the dinner there was nothing spontaneous about you yet his mind is solely focused on you. it’s like he has tunnel vision when it comes to you.

after 20 minutes, yes TWENTY MINUTES, chaeyoung finally drives off and once she’s out of sight, you get out your car and walk to ji-ae’s front door. you’re greeted with a freshened up jungkook and a visibly upset ji-ae whose mood gets worse once she sees the marks on your face.

“oh my God, y/n” she says with tears pricking her eyes. “i’m so sorry. look at what she did to you. she hurt you. did she cut you?”

“yeah but it’s not your fault. i’m a big girl, i can handle myself” you shrug and give ji-ae a tight hug. “you should get some rest” you tell ji-ae who nods and heads to her bedroom to take a small nap after the dramatic altercation that took place in her home.

“soo” you say “you’re a dad now, huh?”

“okay but for real, what if she’s actually pregnant? you didn’t…you know? in her, right?” you ask. you feel bitter even asking jungkook if he and chaeyoung fucked around, which, you’re sure they have but that’s not why you’re bitter.

this is your potential baby daddy right here and chaeyoung is crushing your dreams of being jungkook’s only baby mama.

He’s looking at you in horror, when you say that he’s a dad now, of course he’s not a dad and he’ll never be a daddy if it’s not with you.

“I-I don’t know yn… I think I did wear protection most of the time… I used to get pretty drunk before… you know and because… I couldn’t even fuck if I wasn’t thinking about you, so I don’t remember maybe she must’ve done something if that child is mine but I am sure it’s not.” He’s looking at you with desperation, and his eyes are a little red because of the fresh shower.

Please out of everyone you have to believe him. And you know everything just how scared he was to have a child and what happened between you two just because he wasn’t ready to have a child.

“I-I don’t know what I’ll do if she’s indeed pregnant with my child… she has to abort it.” he says in frustration, not realizing that it can trigger you, because you had done the same thing all because of him.

“I’ll make sure that she does.” He is gritting his teeth just thinking about it., and he’s also tense about the fact that he’s upset his mother a lot.

And he’s so tired. He just wants to have you in his arms and he just wants to sleep in your embrace. “Y-Yn she’s not leaving me. What should I do? SHE’S TRYING TO BABY TRAP ME!” he’s freaking out it’s so obvious.

Why is she here to ruin everything? He thought that she got her revenge but she still wants to ruin him. “I should’ve- SHE USED TO FORCE ME SHE USED TO COARSE ME INTO HAVING SEX WITH HER!”

“I swear to God I’m going to get a vasectomy. I HATE CHILDREN.” His fear is being triggered once again…. And you had tried so hard to get him over that but now she’s triggered it all over again.

“I HOPE THAT BITCH IS GONE.” He looks at you once again. “Yn… there’s something you should know.” He sighs, it’s now or never and he has to take this chance.

He is so close to you, his face merely, inches away from yours. He’s looking into your eyes and you can tell them you are his whole world.

You are.

“I-I love you so much and have always loved you and only you.. I tried to find you in her, but I couldn’t— truth is that no one can ever be you yn… I love you so much.” He pulls you close to his chest and kisses you like his life depends on it.



[writing-fanics]

oooh a fic where morpheus and y/n had just ended their relationship. they’re both summoned by Roderick.

hear me out y/n wakes up starts shouting and cursing but can’t use her magic cause of the binding circle

and Roderick’s ask if she’s death and she just tells him no, and that dream isn’t either

he of course asks for his demands for their release and she just laughs at him smiling.

she could bring his son back if she wanted to but the slew of problems that could occur. the balance of the world would be at stake.

he asks for youth riches and she’s just laughs once again. telling him that he has a funny of asking for such things, “you really think he’s going to give into your demands.”

“trust me he won’t.”

“neither will I”

cue Roderick getting pissed off at her sits their mocking him.

“besides that’s not how I work. for me it’s quite simple.”

“your prized possession, something you hold dear, give that to me, and it’ll become mine. you’ll get what you want.”

“but if Randal means so much to you, I highly doubt you’ve got anything worth while.”

she just grins tilting her head to the side just pissing off roderick even more, “I can tell what you’re thinking.”

“oh, you lay a single finger on me and you’ll wish you were never born.”

but shes pit into a room isn’t the mansion but a binding sigil is put on the door. She can’t leave not even out of the window

they give her food through a slot in the door. one day she finds out she’s pregnant and starts cursing “like fuck you morpheus fuck you and your fucking amazing dick this is all your fault!”

she puts her pregnancy in stasis for the time being, so when jessamy tries to help dream escape y/n gestures towards the siglil binding her to the room.

jessamy brushes it away with her wings and the two of them sneak downstairs to free Dream.

she’s just like quietly, “ello, love sorry it took so long.” grabbing a fire poker barricading the door. hopefully giving them some extra time

she just say the look on his face, “once we get you outta here we need to talk about something.”

as jessamy peckd on the glass tiny cracks appearing, “or maybe I should tell you now.”

“I’m pre-

*gunshout*

jessamy’s boddy fell beside hee everything happened so fast she didn’t have a chance to use her powers when

another gunshot

she collapsed onto the ground blood seeping through her clothes.

another gunshot

dream jumped slightly his eyes fixated on the dead body of jessamy and the bleeding body of his ex

she slowly reached towards the binding circle to smudge it. the pain was unbearable and they locked eyes, “Im pregnant.” she mouthed her hand stopping only a few inches away from breaking the sigil.

dream hand pressed against thr glass as he stared at their lifeless body tears rolling down his cheeks

[kats-baku1999]

Hidden Secrets, Part Two.

wait I can’t believe you guys actually like part one (read that here) I was so insecure about posting it. I’m glad, I’m so glad. Everyone was asking for Bakugo’s suffering so here it is…

READ PART THREE HERE

warnings: I won’t even lie to you all, I have father problems, so this writing hit a little close to home. if in any way you think it’ll hurt or upset you, please don’t read any further okay? mentions of cheating and sex too. also there is some momo slander. I am so sorry.

It was as if the entire world stopped spinning for a second. Kirishima took a step in front of you and Haru, standing chest to chest with Bakugo. Bakugo glared at him, before looking at you. Every ounce of anger you felt towards him began bubbling up. There was so much you wanted to say. So much you wanted to scream at him. You couldn’t yet though, not in front of Haru.

“Kirishima, will you take Haru to your office? I know how excited he has been to see it since the renovation,” You forced a smile, and looked at your son who’s middle brow was creased, which was a for sure sign he was worrying about something, “It’s alright Ru, I will come meet you in there soon,”

“Yeah, come on little monster, I have a huge TV in there now!” Kirishima’s tone did not match the glare on his face, “The conference room is open you two,”

“Thank you Ei, have fun sweetheart,” Haru released himself from you, and let Kirishima take him. He perked his head back over Kirishima’s shoulder and gave you a small wave with his tiny little hand. You forced another smile and waved back, before turning around to face your ex boyfriend. His face was still frozen in shock, as he watched his old best friend walk off with the tiny little human.

“Please tell me what the fuck-”

“Go to the conference room, now.” You snapped and stomped away from him. Bakugo followed after, the boots of his hero costume echoing on the floor of the lobby. He clicked the door behind him as soon as he was in the same room as you.

“So did you just plan on never fucking telling me I had a kid?!” Bakugo yelled, his voice echoing. You turned around and glared at him, “When the fuck did you even find out you were pregnant?”

“Oh, I found out a few days before I found out you were cheating on me,” You laughed dryly, “I was going to tell you that night, but I got a little side tracked,”

“Bullshit absolute bullshit, you should have told me!” Bakugo yelled, not backing down, “Four fucking years! Four!”

“Cut the bullshit Bakugo, I came to your office two weeks before he was born, I ran into Momo and she said you would call me, that night I get a simple text that says you wanted nothing to do with him,” You yelled, jabbing a finger into his chest, “Then you just mysteriously move away with Momo, and no one hears from you, and now you are in Kirishima’s office demanding to know things?!”

“What the fuck are you talk about?! What text?!” Bakugo yelled, grabbing your hand and moving it away from him, “I just found out about the kid today! You still haven’t even confirmed that he was mine?!”

“Take one fucking look at him and tell me he isn’t yours, the only thing that even convinced me he might be from some magical conception is that he is so sensitive and caring!”

“(Y/N) what fucking messages? We haven’t talked since the night you left?” Bakugo’s voice lowered, “I promise you, if I would have known about him I would have, I would have-”

“What? Come back to me? Be with me?” Your voice was monotone and cold, he felt like he was talking to a stranger. A stranger that hates him.

“I mean, yeah maybe, or at least I would’ve been there for his first steps, words, breath, just anything,” Bakugo’s anger was subsiding for the first time in years, “Momo, that day, I know what you’re talking about, because she told me that her and I would never be happy as long as we were here,”

“Oh wow, so the person who you cheated on me with was also a liar, what a shock,” You scoffed, “Sorry, I’m sorry, I heard about her and Todoroki, and their affair,”

Bakugo paused for a second, shocked by your apology. Also by the fact that you even knew. It wasn’t public knowledge yet, considering it just happened two weeks ago. That was the one reason Kirishima was even acknowledging his presence again. He was the one who found them together, and despite his anger towards him, at one point Bakugo was his best friend. So he called him, told him to come to the bar he was at. When Bakugo got there, he found Momo practically on top of Todoroki. A poor, still oblivious, Todoroki who was convinced that Momo had left Bakugo. That she had called off their two year engagement.

“I didn’t realize Kirishima told you, still don’t know how he failed to mention my son-”

“Hey, don’t do that okay? Be mad at me for not trying harder, but don’t be mad at Kirishima, he knew if he would have said anything he wouldn’t have been able to see Haru anymore,” You sat down in one of the chairs, “To be honest, I had just planned on you never finding out,”

“That isn’t fair (Y/n), he is my son.” Bakugo’s tone of voice was frustrated and angry. He didn’t want to be mad at you, he knew he couldn’t be mad at you.

“No, he is my son, mine, I’ve done everything, I was there for all of the bruises and scratches, for when he got into my hair gel to try and make himself look like Kirishima, for his birthdays and Christmases, you weren’t there,” You snapped, “Sharing his genetics does not make him your son,”

“No but you don’t get to hold this shit against me, it wasn’t my fault,” Bakugo fired back.

“You’re the one who fucked her,” You sneered. Standing up again, running your hand through your hair, “You cheated on me with her, you chose her over me, you don’t get to be the victim here either, I don’t even get to be the victim, the only person who deserves to even act like the victim is my son,”

“I’m here now, I know now, and I want nothing more but than to get to know him,” Bakugo looked at you with pleading eyes, “To be apart of his life, of your life,”

“I don’t know, I can’t just tell him that you’re his dad, he has been asking for the past year, and he has so much more going on already,” You laughed, “He doesn’t have his quirk yet, it’s becoming evident that he might not ever have his quirk, so how do I tell him that his dad is the number one hero, and a person he idolizes?”

“So you’ve faulted me because my ex fiancé was a psychopath who didn’t think I needed to know about my son, and now because I’m the number one hero- wait, he doesn’t have his quirk?”

“No, no he doesn’t, that’s why we are in town, for Denki and Hitoshi’s wedding, and to see a doctor,” You explained, the tears finally spilling over, “I can’t just dump this on him too Bakugo, please, you have to understand,”

“I do, okay I do, but please I can’t just let you walk away today with him and not do anything, I have to know him, but I don’t want to make this a problem bigger than it needs to be,” Bakugo grabbed your shoulders, “Please don’t make me villain here, okay I don’t want to be,”

“As much as I want to, I can’t, I know I can’t it wouldn’t be fair to him,” You grabbed his hands off your shoulders and held them for a second, a small sob threatening to escape your throat, “But please don’t take him from me, he’s all I have,”

Bakugo stopped and tightened his grip on your hands. Forcing you to look up at him. His eyebrows were creased, furrowed up exactly like Haru’s always did. The same look of concern Haru’s always had on his face when you said something close to sad.

“I wouldn’t think about taking him away, so get that shitty ass thought out of your head right now,” Bakugo sighed, “He doesn’t even have to know I’m his father right now, not until your ready, but I would like to be your friend, your friend that comes around him, your friend that he gets to know like he knows Kirishima,”

“Okay, okay,” You mumbled, nodding your head, “You can pick us up and take us to his doctor’s appointment, then we can all go out with Kirishima after so he feels more comfortable, we can start there,”

“Okay, let’s start there,” Bakugo let go of your hands slowly, “Does he you know like anything?”

“Yes, Bakugo he likes things, heroes specifically, are you going to blow up this office if I say Deku is his favorite?” You wiped the tears off your face, and finally bust out laughing at Bakugo’s groan that followed, “I’m going to grab Haru, I’ll have Kirishima send you my number okay?”

“Okay, thank you, let me know about the doctors thing.”

You gave him a small nod and walked out of the room. Stopping the bathroom to rinse off the tears. When you opened up the door to Kirishima’s office, you found Haru staring at the large tv completely awe struck by the footage of Midoriya fighting alongside Bakugo. One of their earlier fights, they were just barely pros. You remembered it because that was when he and Shinso agreed to work together. That was the fight that introduced you to him.

— a few days later

“Momma, you’re doing your upset walk,” Haru whispered, as if he was telling some kind of secret. Shinso snorted into his coffee, and earned him self a dirty look from you.

“Your mother is just nervous over seeing her friend small human,” Shinso called you out, and earned another dirty look.

“Momma is friends with Dynamight, Uncle Toshi! She has even met Deku!” Haru’s eyes were sparkling as he said it, waving around his Deku plushie.

“You know, I’ve worked with Deku before, almost beat him-”

“In the sports festival, yes Uncle Toshi we knowwww,” Haru groaned, having heard the story at least fifty time. It was your turn to laugh. Haru loved Shinso, but when it came to his favorite heroes, being ranked under his own fiancé was a bit of a sting.. So poor Shinso tries to impress the kid every chance he can.

“You’ve told him the story at least ten times,” You backed up your son, shrugging your shoulders.

“You know, I was in the room when you came into this world little man, I deserve some props as a hero,” Shinso groaned, and Haru just laughed, taking another bite of his cereal.

“I know, but you’re a hero like you know a dad would be,” Haru said casually and both of you froze. He was trying so desperately to figure out what it meant to have a Dad. The last time Kirishima came to visit, he had even asked him if he was his dad because of their red eyes, and how Kirishima is always there for his big moments. Then he asked you if Shinso was his dad, because they both liked cats.

“Haru, our ride is here, we better go outside okay?” You smiled, changing the subject, “Give Toshi a hug!”

Haru jumped down and gave Shinso a quick hug. You grabbed your things, and your files about Haru’s past doctor’s appointments. After he grabbed his backpack you walked over and kissed Shinso’s cheeks, mouthing a quick apology. He waved you off.

“Let me know how it goes,” He smiled, and you knew he wasn’t just talking about the doctors appointment.

You picked up Haru and carried him outside. Bakugo waved at you both, and Haru hid his face again. Although he was excited to get to meet one of his heroes, he was also terrified. Bakugo pouted a little bit, and you gave him a small glare. He straightened up and forced a smile.

“I just need to grab his seat!” You forced a smile, trying to avoid how awkward this was. Bakugo shook his head.

“Nope, I bought one, it’s got all the things,” Bakugo sounded proud of himself, you raised an eyebrow but walked towards his car. He opened the door and you saw a seat, one of the ones with a cup holder, and in it was a collectible Deku doll that Haru had wanted for months. Along with a signed picture of him.

“Haru, look,” You whispered, making sure to tell Bakugo later that he can’t just buy his love. Haru’s face lit up though, and he quickly jumped down out of your arms. He grabbed the doll and picture, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Thank you Mr. Dynamight sir!” Haru grinned, before climbing in his seat so you could buckle him in. Bakugo stood behind you, and you could practically feel the grin radiating off of him.

“Call me Katsuki kid, all of my friends do,” Bakugo smiled, and got in the drivers seat. You walked over to the other side, and climbed into the passenger seat.

The ride was quiet, just the sounds of Haru playing with his new toy in the background. Neither you or Bakugo knew what to say to one another. So you just sat in comfortable silence, looking through Haru’s main doctor’s notes. Then Haru needed to blow his nose, and out of habit you opened up the glove box to grab a tissue as if you were in your own car. Inside it though you found Bakugo’s necklace that had matched yours, that you gave back to him when you left. You grabbed a tissue and handed it back to Haru.

“Yours is hanging up on the rearview mirror of my other car,” Bakugo mumbled, his eyes not leaving the road. You studied the side of his face, just nodding in response. It was odd that after all of this time he still had that dumb thing. You two had gotten them on your fourth time of hanging out, he had found them at a festival he made some appearance at. They were cheap, but you both wore them all of the time. The necklaces meant something to both of you, the day you took yours off was the day you knew it was over.

The rest of the ride felt tense. You felt silly over thinking the necklace. You figured he would have thrown them away at this point. When you finally got to the hospital, Bakugo went and found a parking spot. He went to walk in with you two but you shook your head.

“I’m not ready for the rumors to start surrounding Haru, so would you mind just hanging out here?” You whispered.

“Oh, yeah no you’re right, I’ll be here,” Bakugo nodded his head, looking a little disappointed. You climbed out of the car and grabbed Haru, who waved a tiny hand at Bakugo as the two of you walked towards the entrance.

You weren’t in the waiting room for long till you were called into the exam room. They did a few X-rays, and tests, on Haru. Then after about an hour you were sitting in the Doctor’s office as Haru played with his toys on the floor. The doctor say down across from you and showed you all of the test results.

“Well the good news is, Haru will most definitely have a quirk, his body is already adjusted to what his quirk would be,” The doctor smiled, “I’m guessing his father’s quirk has something to do with nitroglycerin?”

“Uh well we don’t actually know much about his father,” You lied, knowing Haru was paying attention now.

“Well Haru has high levels of it in his sweat glands according to the tests, but my only concern is that I think he has some kind of mental block keeping him from using his quirk,” The doctor explained, “You’re quirkless correct?”

“Uh yes sir, I am,” You nodded your head. Haru walked over to you and grabbed your hand. So you put him in your lap.

“Maybe he just won’t use his quirk because he doesn’t want to be different from you, since you are his sole provider,”

“No that’s not it,” Haru interrupted and you both looked at him, “It’s not Mommy’s fault, I just want to use my quirk when Dad comes back for us,”

You felt your heart break into a million pieces.

“Haru sweetie, have you known about your quirk?” You whispered, and he nodded his head sadly.

“I accidentally blew up Mira’s doll at the playground, but made her promise to not tell her parents so you wouldn’t know,” Haru hung his head, and avoided eye contact. Like he did whenever he thought he was going to be in trouble.

“Haru you could’ve told me, then we wouldn’t have had to do all these tests, why didn’t you-”

“I just wanted dad to be the one to help me,” Haru cut you off again, his eyes watering. You let out a sigh and pulled him closer to you. The doctor nodded his head, smiling softly at you.

The two of you walked out to the car again. Bakugo’s head perked up at the sight of you both. He jumped out of the car and opened the door for you to put Haru in. Bakugo raised an eyebrow at the sad look on his face, and then looked at you.

“Tell me he has his quirk? Or at least a hope of one?” Bakugo asked, and you closed Haru’s door. Glaring at Bakugo, before walking over to your door. You climbed in the car and didn’t say a word until you got the park where Kirishima was meeting you guys.

“Hey, Haru why don’t you go with Uncle Ei and play while I talk to Katsuki?” You smiled at Haru, who climbed out of his seat and went to Kirishima who had opened the door for him. Kirishima closed the door and walked away with Haru. Bakugo looked towards you with a raised eyebrow.

“Why did you do it?” You whispered and Bakugo just looked even more confused, “Why did you fuck all of this up?”

“What do you mean?” Bakugo’s tone was proof enough that he was annoyed. Not necessarily at you, but more so at the fact he could see Kirishima playing with his son so effortlessly.

“Cheat on me, leave me alone to raise him, leave him confused and upset because all he wanted was his dad,” Your eyes started water, tears threatening to spill over. Bakugo turned his head back towards you, your words stinging a little bit.

“I didn’t leave you alone, I didn’t know.” His voice was stern, “You can’t make me out to be the dead beat father in this situation (Y/n) I would have been there for him if I would have known he was alive,”

You let out a sigh of defeat, making eye contact with him. Bakugo felt his heart break at the look in your eyes. You looked.. Defeated.

“I know, I know it’s my fault okay?” You whispered, “I should have never kept him from you, I should have told you I was pregnant but I was selfish, and hurt, and-”

You were sobbing now. Your words falling off. Bakugo unbuckled your seat belt, and pulled you over the center console so you were sitting on him. He hugged you, tightly. Letting you let out every single sob, as he rubbed your back. You cling onto his shirt as you buried your face in his shoulder.

“I know why you were mad, and I don’t blame you but (Y/n), I would have been there for you both if I would have know,” He whispered against you, you pulled your head back and looked at him.

“I know, and I’m sorry, I still hate what you did to me, to our relationship, but Haru deserves to know his father,” You sighed, Bakugo reached up and wiped some of the stray make up on your face.

“So we’ll tell him?” He smiled hopefully, and you nodded.

“Eventually, eventually we will tell him, but for now I just want you to get to know him, ease him into it,” His smile faded a little but he knew you were right.

Bakugo stared at you and it settled in for him that it was never Momo. It was never once her for him, it was you. Back then, he was too scared to let himself admit it. Despite how long you two had been together when his affair with Momo started, he was scared. Scared of how much he could love a single person. Then he felt guilty because he had no reason to have that fear. He grew up watching his parents have that kind of love. It was his own selfish mindset that pushed him to that decision.. That pushed him to losing you.

You crawled back into your seat, flipping the visor down. Bakugo watched as you wiped the make up off your face. You turned back to look at him, smiling a little.

"I have a proposition for you, if you want to spend more time with him?" Your voice sounded a little nervous, and Bakugo grinned a little nodding his head, "Go to the wedding with us to the wedding? I mean you and Denki were friends right?"

"Are you sure? I mean I know how all of them must feel about me?" Bakugo laughed a little, and you shook your head looking back at Haru and Kirishima.

"They all love Ru, so much, so I think they will understand why I want you there, and besides Hitoshi does nothing but tell me to get back in the dating game," You rolled your eyes, and Bakugo laughed at you a little bit.

"How long has it been since you've been on a date if Dead Eyes is making jokes about it?" Bakugo was half teasing, and half curious what the answer was.

"Oh don't you start asshole, I have been raising our kid," You laughed, a genuine laugh. A laugh that made Bakugo's heart do some kind of internal flip. He smiled softly at you.

"You said our kid," He whispered, and you blushed a little.

"Our kid who is staring in here trying to figure out what's wrong," You laughed, pointing towards Haru who now had an adorable pout on his face. You climbed out of the car and ran towards him, picking him up and spinning him all crazy like. Bakugo smiled as he watched you two together. Realizing that all he ever wanted in life was right here, and in his reach again.

--------------------------------------

tagging all of the people who replied to hidden secrets part one <3

there is going to be a part three, and i promise for everyone who asked for bakugo suffering.. it is coming because i am feeling evil >:]

@girl-who-likes-cold-bois , @leximoron , @shyonigirichan , @tspice283 , @heyomie , @beigeunburdened , @xoxo-teddybear , @silentw-lkr , @semhal , @justmewoo , @jazzylove , @nolimitsam , @da1chisjuicywatermelons , @ayoooooooooooo

[gaysimpsstuff]

Hawks Getting Y/n Pregnant After A Rut

This was a request but I can’t find the ask where it was requested, but it certainly was requested.

Genre: fluff

Type: headcannon/drabble

Word Count: 1.7K Words

Warnings: pregnancy, mentions of sex, mentions of rut, children, vomiting, Keigo being a bit of an asshole, doctors, mentions of sensory overload, mentions of blood, crying, reader calls Kei ‘daddy’ as a joke once,

Other: I did my best to keep it gender neutral, so there aren’t any gendered pronouns used for the reader, so they could be non binary or trans masc. Also, I do plan on never getting pregnant and have never been pregnant before so I really have no experience and no qualifications to be writing on this subject so let’s just see how this turns out.

Fluff Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy @catcherisvibin @thesubtlewhore @popcatx0

“Kei.”

“Nope.”

“Kei.”

“I said no.”

“I said yes.”

“Well too damn bad. I’m not carrying you.”

“It’s your damn fault I can’t walk, you fucked me for five days straight this time around, I literally can’t feel my legs. You will carry me.”

“Except it isn’t my fault I have ruts, I’m not in control.”

“It was your dick fucking me, Kei. No one else’s, so it’s your fault.”

This was a normal occurrence in the springtime, right after Keigo’s ruts. The small fight over your capabilities. 

“You can walk to the bathroom yourself.” Keigo was in bed next to you, arms crossed. “It’s literally been a whole ass week.”

“You fucked me for five days!” you exclaimed. “Do you really expect me to be up and running the same amount of time after that?”

“Yes!” Keigo exclaimed. “It’s not like I hurt you or anything, you barely did anything the whole time, you’re fine!” 

You leaned across the bed to glare him in the eyes, examining his slitted pupils for any sign that he might back down. You found none.

“Ughhhh fiiiiiine I’ll walk.” you groaned, throwing the blankets aside and standing up. Your legs were still sore, but you could maneuver them well enough. “Asshole.” you grumbled

“Oh yes, I’m the asshole.” he smirked, sitting back. You rolled your eyes, pausing for a moment to hold onto the edge of the bed.

“Something doesn’t feel right...” you muttered. 

“Seriously, Y/n? I said I wasn’t carrying you so-”

“No, Kei I’m not joking, I feel sick.” 

“I’m sure you’re just hungry.” Keigo waved you off, seemingly uncaring about your situation. You shot him another glare that he totally missed. Suddenly, you felt something move up in your body, and you launched yourself into the bathroom to crouch over the toilet. 

“Babe?” Keigo sat up in bed, trying to peek into the bathroom. He blanched when he heard you gasp, and then a loud splat noise. He was on his feet in an instant, crouching next to you as you wiped your mouth with toilet paper. 

“I fuckin told you...” you grumbled, and he rubbed your back worriedly.

“Boy who cried wolf!” he exclaimed “I’m sorry, baby, are you okay?”

“Do I look okay?” you snapped, and he frowned. “I’m sorry, no, I’m not okay- hold up- more’s coming-”

You threw up the next day too. 

And the day after that. 

One the fourth day, Keigo was panicking, insisting he take you to the doctors.  

-

“I keep telling him I’m fine, I probably just caught a stomach bug or something.” you shrugged, sitting on the uncomfortable table bed thingie inside the doctor’s office. Keigo was in the chair behind you, holding your hand.

Not for your comfort, but for his.

He hated the sterile smell of the doctors, hated the smooth white walls with charts hanging from them, too bright lights stabbing at his eyes, and the smooth way the doctors spoke was all too similar to his handlers from the commission.

You wanted to get the visit over with and get Keigo out of here before he went into sensory overload, you knew just how much he hated hospitals and doctors, and while it was sweet that he would force himself to go through it for you, you didn’t want him to.

“I keep telling them they’re not fine,” Keigo grumbled. “Look at them, they don’t look fine and I keep telling them something’s wrong but-”

“Please don’t start to fight in my office,” the doctor sighed, she glanced between you and Keigo. “I understand Hawks goes through ‘ruts’ as you would call them in the springtime, and during that time he is much more fertile than usual. Have the two of you just finished one of those ruts?” 

“Yes,” you answered quickly. “It lasted five days this time.” Keigo nodded.

“DO you think maybe I got them sick?” Kei worried, squeezing your hand tighter.

“Keigo have you ever heard of someone getting sick after sex and not- oh oh, Doctor are you implying-”

“Yes, I am, you should probably get tested for it. We can do a blood test, they’re more accurate.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” 

“I’ll send you to the Hematologist,” 

“The what?” 

“Blood doctor, Keigo. I need a blood test.”

“So I did get you sick!”

“Oh my god Keigo, no, just- we’ll see what happens.”

“Is it normal that I’m confused?” 

“Unfortunately, it’s very normal.”

-

Keigo continued to be confused and worried for the next few days, at least until you got an email. 

“Why’s this one so important?” Keigo pouted. “And why can’t I read it with you?”

“It’s the result of the blood test.” you explained, clicking on the email and scrolling past the formalities to get to the result

“So basically it’s the result of whether my cum is toxic or not...” Keigo was laying on the bed near your feet while you were sat up on your laptop.

“Your cum isn’t toxic, Kei.” you chuckled, reading through the email. “I would have gotten ‘sick’ much sooner if your cum was toxic.”

“How do you know my cum didn’t just- suddenly become toxic?” he exclaimed

“Keigo. Stop. Your cum is not toxic.” you sighed, finally reaching the results.

Your lips lifted up and you started to practically buzz with excitement. You cupped your hands over your mouth and squealed. Keigo lifted his head up, staring at you in confusion.

“Babe? What happened?” His wings twitched as you shut the laptop, setting it aside and flinging yourself at him. Your arms squeezing his midsection tight. “Ah shit- Y/n what’s going on? Why are you so happy?” He sat up, pulling you into his lap. “I’m not against you smiling and cuddling me but I am still very much confused.”

“Keigo, I’m pregnant!” you squealed, holding onto his shoulders, your face was stretched wide in a bright smile “We’re gonna have a baby!”

“Wait- what?” His face immediatelty lifted 

“Yes! We’re gonna have a kid!”

“Holy shit, really?” He hands flew to your stomach “My kid is in there?” He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth to keep it from quivering, his hands were shaking against your stomach.

“Yes, Keigo. You’re gonna be a dad!” He let out a warbled sort of chirp, pressing his face into your neck. His breath fanned out over your skin, and you could feel moisture against it. 

“I’m so happy!” he whispered, voice wavering slightly “Fuck I’m so happy with you, I- I’m gonna be a good dad for our little chick.” his hand rubbed circles against your belly. You traced your hand up to rub Keigo’s back.

“They’re lucky to have someone like you to be their dad, Kei. I love you, and I know you’ll raise our child right.” His grip in you tightened

“I- I can’t I’m just- fuck words can’t describe it, I-” He  pulled away from your neck and pressed his lips against yours, you closed your eyes and kisses back, enjoying his passion. It was like however close you could be wasn’t close enough, and he needed to just be with you.

You broke the kiss a few minutes later, pulling away to cup his face. His golden eyes were full of tears, and his smile was the brightest it had ever been. 

“I love you...” he whispered. “And I already love our kid.” You stroked his cheek with your finger, speechless. You kisses his nose, giggling a little.

“We’re gonna be a family,” you told him

“I can’t wait!” 

-

After that, Keigo just couldn’t keep his hands off you, especially your belly, even while it was small, he just couldn’t keep himself from holding your belly and talking to the baby.

“Goodnight, Y/n~” Keigo pressed a kiss to your cheek, a hand rubbing circles onto your growing belly. “And goodnight Akina!” 

“Keigo, we don’t know if it’s gonna be a girl, so don’t name it just yet!” you chuckled.

“But Akina’s just perfect, if it’s a girl then she’d be a lovely spring flower” he cooed, scooching down to your belly.

“Keigo, I’d be concerned if our baby was born in the springtime, that’s way late!”

“Well she was conceived in springtime!” Keigo exclaimed, pressing his cheek to your belly “Weren’t you, Akina? My beautiful daughter~” 

“You don’t know if it’s your daughter or your son yet, Kei! Seriously!” you laughed at the way he spoke to your belly, running your hands through his golden tresses. 

“Well if it’s a boy, what do you think his name should be?” he asked

“I was thinking Hajime, I mean this is a whole new beginning for both of us.”

“Hajime...” Keigo breathed, pressing a kiss to your belly. “My darling child, my Hajime, my Akina, my perfect child I already love you~” 

You buried your face in your hands, giggling, Keigo was just too precious sometimes, you couldn’t wait to have his and your child.

“Oh! Keigo I felt something!” you exclaimed, Keigo sat up, pressing his hand against your belly. 

“Was it a-”

“Yes! They’re kicking!” you placed your hand over Keigo’s, moving it so he could feel the small bursts of pressure. You heard him suck in a breath, vibrating with happiness.

“They’re so strong!” he was beaming with pride, feeling his child kick up against his hand. “I’m going to keep them so safe, they won’t cry like I have, like you have, they’ll know true happiness.” 

“We’ll protect them, and when our little birdie is ready, then one day they can fly away...”

“But we’ll always be there when they need us.” Keigo pressed himself against you, kissing your neck “We’ll all be so happy!”

“Keigo, that tickles!”

“I still can’t believe it, that little chick will call me ‘dad!’” 

“What, is me calling you ‘daddy’ not enough?” you joked and he laughed, pressing one more kiss to your skin before rolling onto his stomach and resting his head on your shoulder

“I love you Y/n, I love you Akina, Hajime,” he murmured, you settled into the blankets next to him, letting him cover your body with one of his wings as you absentmindedly wrapped an arm around his body.

“I love you too, Keigo. And you, my child.” 

Oh my gosh

I wanna do a part two

But like- angsty?

Idfk this is just v fun-

It’s either gonna be fluffy Hajime/Akina being born and living life to the fullest

A miscarriage

Or maybe the reader dies and Keigo has to raise the child alone- which could very well result in Keigo abusing the child- AHHH SO MANY POSSIBILITIESS

[forever-rogue]

91 from prompt list one with Din? Thank you!

91. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission.”

Some angst and softness with Din? Say no more!

Din Djarin x Fem!Reader ; warnings: pregnant reader

The Mandalorian Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

You sighed lightly as you looked at yourself in the mirror, a hand subconsciously running over the growing bump. You were excited, very excited if you were being honest, about your upcoming arrival but still...you wished things were different. You wished you weren’t just pregnant, or knocked up, as plenty of people not so lovingly put it...but here you were. You wanted, craved even, everything that went hand in hand with it. You wanted the domesticity, the relationship, the shared excitement of welcoming your child with your husband. 

But no. You had none of that. 

Just an awkward relationship with the father of your child, aka your work partner but also kind of your employer that had culminated in a one night stand that ended with you getting pregnant. 

Yeah - things weren’t exactly typical. 

And ever since your little discovery, something neither of you expected since one - you had the implant and two - it was just a one night stand. It had occurred at the end of a long and stressful mission, close brushes with death for both of you and something just snapped. It had become a Herculean task to stay from each other, to keep your hands and lips from one another, and eventually you both just...gave in. If you were being honest, it had been a long time coming, and neither of you could deny the feelings that had developed and blossomed between the two of you. 

But now there was...nothing. It was like as soon as it was over, he had turned cold. Not cold…just colder. You wondered if he regretted what happened; now with you almost halfway through an unexpected pregnancy you really wondered if he regretted that night...you...your baby. He’d never said anything in the negative, reminding you constantly that he supported whatever decision you wanted to make. It might have been unexpected and unplanned, but he wasn’t about to turn his back from your or your child. 

And yet...things felt different. Gone were the days filled with light and laughter, of simplicity and happiness, and instead everything felt off. You’d worried for a moment that he’d think you did this on purpose, but he knew and you knew he knew that he didn’t think you would stoop to something like this. Besides, it had been a night filled with passion for the both of you, not just one of you. Maybe...maybe once the baby was born things would be different. 

You scoffed at yourself as soon as the idea entered your head. Things weren’t going back to how they were; if anything he’d grow more distant and closed off. You hoped he would at least love your son or daughter; he was such a good father to Grogu, you wanted the same for the new addition. 

As you stood there, trying to keep yourself from crying and to calm down, you paused and wondered what your baby would look like. Then it hit you - you’d still never seen his face. You had no real clue as to what he looked like; you knew his features were dark, that much you could decipher even in the darkness, but the rest was...a mystery. Kriffing hell; you were having a child with a man who wanted nothing to do with you anymore and you had no clue what he looked like. It might as well have been a stranger. 

It would work out one way or another, you supposed. Scared and nervous didn't matter - the baby would be here no matter. That part was inevitable by now.

"It will be okay, my love," you whispered tightly to your bump, pulling your tunic back down over it. 

The silence on the Crest was almost deafening and slowly driving you crazy. You needed to get out and do something, even if it was just for a walk to stretch your legs. Din hadn't said a word to you all morning and besides breaking your heart it had sent an awkward air over the whole place.

Snapping you out of your daze, you heard some tiny footsteps and gentle cooing. Look at the door, you found the little green bean coming and smiling at you. Your heart softened as you beamed back at him; there was something so reassuring and calming about his presence that instantly made you feel so much lighter and happier.

"Hello my little love," you sang at him as he toddled over to you, reaching up towards you with his small arms. Grinning, you tried to bend over, realizing that was too much of a challenge and opting to awkwardly squat down and pick him up. He didn't seem to mind, a smile on his face as he tried to wrap his arms around your neck and cuddled against your chest.

Something about the tender moment caught up with you as emotion overwhelmed you, pregnancy you decided, with the small bean on your chest and the tears just started to flow down your cheeks. You stood there and sniffled, deciding to get it all out before leaving the room and possibly seeing the Mandalorian. Little did you know, the man in question was just down the small hall, his heart breaking at the sound of your soft cries. 

Rocking back and forth on your heels, you held Grogu closely, feeling more comforted by his presence than you had in days. He cooed lightly at you as he tried to hold onto you as tightly as you did him. 

"I know," you acknowledged with a small, despondent laugh, as he reached up and attempted to wipe your tears away, "I know it will work out, right now it just feels...all wrong. I love him you know. You and him and the baby - more than anything. And now he hates me."

He looked at you, attempted to get you to understand just how much he loved you too. Even if without words, you knew what it meant. Kissing the top of his fuzzy little head, you let out a long breath, "you're right. I shouldn't worry like this. Let's go outside and at least get some sun and fresh air. Clear my head anyway."

He seemed to nod in agreement as you started towards the door. Din had already stepped out of the way and pretended to be unaware of what had been going on. As you needed you towards the exit of the ship, baby and silence in tow, he gathered up...courage? Something and called out to you.

"Where are you going?" he asked as you spun on your heel and gave him a curious look. After so much silence that's all he was going to say? The nerve. You scoffed at him lightly before shrugging your shoulders and turning to leave again, "wait!"

"Why?" you didn’t have enough energy left to full fight or argue so you just gave him a despondent look, “what does it matter, Din? I didn’t realize I needed your permission!”

“At least tell me where you’re going,” he took a step closer but stopped immediately when he noticed how you flinched, “y-you have the bab...ies.”

“And what about it?” you huffed, “it doesn’t seem to matter other times, but now it does? Hot and cold, hot and cold, what do you want? I know you hate me, you don’t need to pretend to care!”

“I don’t hate you,” his voice cracked at the insinuation and he felt like the wind had been knocked out of his lungs. Is that really how you felt? He hadn’t realized he’d fucked up to this extent; he’d just panicked and been nervous and...well. Apparently pushed you away more than he had realized, “I just…”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” you insisted meekly, “I know this isn’t what either of us wanted or planned on it, but it’s happening. And I don’t care if you hate me or whatever, but don’t blame the baby when they come. It’s not their fault.”

“Listen, I...we need to talk-”

“There’s nothing left to say Din,” you felt another tear run down your cheek, “I don’t know what to even say...I just...I have to go right now. I’ll be back.”

“It’s dangerous out there,” he called after you, running to the door as you walked away without another look back, “the baby! Please be careful...mesh’la!”

But you didn’t turn back and he didn’t chase after you. He stood there silently, cursing himself a million different ways as he watched your retreating form.

“Kriff,” he hissed at himself. He had fucked up, totally and completely. He pushed away the only woman he’d ever loved all because he was scared and didn’t know what to do in a moment of panic. Ever since you’d told him you were pregnant, it was like he gone into a panicked frenzy as he tried to figure out what to do, tried to figure out how to tell you he loved you fully and completely, tried to figure out how to be his best for you, Grogu, and your baby - his baby. 

But instead of doing anything of the sort, he had shut down completely and pushed you away.

Pushed you away to the point where you believed he hated you. To the point where you believed anything but the fact that he loved you.

And he did. He’d loved you from the moment he’d laid eyes on you when you threatened to “kick his ass to hell and back” and then had fallen a little more every single day. 

All because he was scared and couldn’t face the truth. And now? 

He was afraid he might have ruined everything. He might never get the chance to love you like he wanted to. He might never get to have his family with you. He might…

No. He was going to make this right. Even if you didn’t believe him or didn’t want to hear it. 

He was going to tell you everything. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

You’d finally found a quiet place to rest, a small little hidden spot in the forest that he’d landed the Crest by. It wasn’t much, but it was better than being stuck on the ship in the tense atmosphere. Once you’d found the spot, you plopped down in the soft earth and leaned up against the large tree. The little one had found some butterflies and was instantly fascinated by them, running after them as fast as his little legs would carry him. 

It was a sweet sight - so pure and innocent as you watched him play. If only everything was so easy and tender. Unfortunately, you know the harsh and cruel realities of the world. But even for just a moment, you decided to push away your worries and get lost in the sanctity of this moment. 

Eventually Grogu tired himself out and toddled over to you. He grinned at you sweetly before climbing onto your outstretched and clambered for you to hold him. When he reached your belly, making it a challenge for him to cuddle up like he wanted to, he stared in wonder at it, inky eyes wide and curious. 

“That’s your brother or sister, my love,” you told him, a hand gently running over the bump, “they’ll be here soon…ish. I know they’ll love you so much. Just like I do.”

He looked at you excitedly before blabbing a string of sounds you couldn’t make quite interrupt. He reached a hand slowly up to replace yours, a little smile on his face. At his gentle touch, you immediately felt warm and light, like some happiness had managed to seep into your bones. Grogu kept a small hand on your bump as he curled around it and made himself comfortable. You looked down at the sight, wishing you could capture this forever. 

Closing your eyes, you gently stroked his ear as you tried to clear your mind. It was calm and quiet for a few moments, nothing but the woodland sounds around you meeting your ears. Finally a moment of peace and tranquility to rest and ground yourself. After a few moments, you heard the sound of crunching leaves and snapping twigs. Opening your eyes, you studied your surroundings and quickly spied the Mandalorian. Your eyes widened as you swallowed the lump in your throat at the sight of him.

“Mesh’la,” he said softly as he came over. You thought about jumping up (as fast as you could in your current state) and running away, but couldn’t force yourself to move, or disturb either of your babies, “can we talk? We need to talk - I need to talk.”

“If you’ve come to punish me or yell at me,” you sighed softly, “please spare your breath. It is no use, I already know how you feel.”

“No, that’s not what I need to say,” he insisted as he came over, “I know you know you don’t want to hear this or think I hate you, but I need to talk to you. First of all...I just...I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” you looked at him with wide eyes as he sat down near, all decorum out the window as he flopped onto the ground, “what in the galaxy are you sorry for?”

“For how I’ve treated you,” he admitted and your heart stilled instantly, “for how I’ve acted ever since you - we - found you’re pregnant. I’ve...it’s bad enough to the point where you think I don’t care about you, that I hate you. I don’t...I could never hate you.”

“It sure feels like that right about now,” you laughed, a small little bitter thing, “I know this wasn’t ever what we expected or wanted, but...I’m scared too. Terrified and I don’t even have my best friend anymore. It’s like there’s a wall between us now and I’m afraid that it’s never going to get better. That it will always be this way.”

“It’s not you, it’s never been you,” he insisted, letting out a long sigh, “it’s me. When we...I’d wanted that for a long, long time. And then it happened, and I panicked because I didn’t know if you wanted that too, and things seemed different, and instead of asking, I closed myself off. And it’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. And then when you found out about the baby...I just...I couldn’t handle it.”

“It was scary for me too,” you laughed lightly as you wiped away the tears that had started to well up, “how do you think it feels to be the one that’s pregnant and alone?”

“I was scared and thought you wouldn’t forgive me, or hate me, or think I’m a horrible father or partner,” he confessed as you watched him closely. That wasn’t what you had in mind at all, “I completely shut down and pushed you away when that wasn’t what I wanted at all.”

“You...I would never think that, Din. I know you’re a wonderful father already, to Grogu, and you will be to one this one as well. I’m not mad at you for what happened, nor do I regret...our time together. The only thing I regret is...how we’ve drifted apart,” you admittedly softly, “even if we’re never more than this, I just want us to be friends. For our sake and this baby…”

“I...want this - more than this,” he whispered, finally getting out what he wanted to say, “I...kriff - I’m in love with you, Mesh’la. I have been for so long, and that night...I wanted to tell you then, I just couldn’t figure out how. And that’s when I panicked.”

“You - you love me?” you looked at him with the sweetest, most confused expression he had ever seen as he could only manage to nod, “me? Like you’re not just saying that because of the baby? You don’t need to just say it…”

“I have loved you since before the baby, now, and always will,” he promised, “I just happen to also be a huge fool. Do you remember the first day we met?”

“Of course I do,” you said through a few tears, but unlike your previous ones, these were not of sadness or grief, “you scared me and I freaked out and threatened-”

“To kick my ass to hell and back,” he said as you laughed, “that’s when I fell in love with you. And it’s never changed. I just never knew what to say or do.” 

“Din...maybe it’s obvious or I don’t know anything anymore, but I’m in love with you too,” you sighed contentedly as he reached over and delicately wiped away your tears, “I always have been too. When we...that night together was everything, but afterwards I thought you regretted it because of what happened and I didn’t know what to do either. 

“I know, and I am so sorry for how I acted,” he whispered as you nodded slightly, “I wish I could take it all back and have you understand how much I love you from the beginning. But I can’t…”

“I know now,” you laughed lightly, “and you’re here. That’s what counts. This.”

“I know nothing can change what happened,” he scooted closer to you, reaching over and touching your cheek, “but I promise it won’t ever happen again. Things won’t go back to what they’ve been or what they were. I want this...with you. Everything - I want us to be a real family, not just as friends or work partners but…as my riduur.” 

“Really?” you asked softly, unable to keep the smile off your features as he nodded, “I want that too...truly. I want everything with you.”

“And you will have it I will give it all to you,” he promised softly, “I know we have a lot to figure out still, but I love you - I’m in love with you, our baby, the little green menace - our family.”

“Din,” you leaned over, trying not to disturb the little one as you pressed your forehead against his, “I love you. We’ll figure this all out. Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Please don’t shut me out again,” you whispered softly, “we’ll get through anything - together.”

“I won’t,” he promised, “I love you, sweet girl.”

“I love you too, Din - you and our little family. Always.”

“Always.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[burnedbyshoto]

cravings & needs

— Even Natsuo has cravings and needs that demand relied even when you, his wife, is pregnant.

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pairing: todoroki natsuo x pregnant fem!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, pwp, pregnant!reader, pregnancy hormones, slight daddy kink, lactation, breeding kink, natsuo platonic!calls reader mommy.

word count: 2,825

a/n: i am like: breed but no pregnant. but sometimes im like: pregnant but no baby. so basically, I lose.

kinktober day 16 main kink: lactation | kinktober masterlist

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You were going to strangle Todoroki Natsuo until his face turned blue and purple.

Then you will cry.

Then you will profusely apologize as he splutters for breath.

Then you will kiss him soundly, fingers ripping his clothes off, raging hormones simmering your blood. 

Then you’ll shove him off of you, calm once again, and ask if he wanted to go get some ice cream as his pale skin flushed red.

To say the least, you absolutely hated your stupid, good for nothing, utterly super-fertile husband who just had to carry the Todoroki breeding kink gene. You were nine months pregnant, nine months after finally agreeing that both of you were ready for children. Your belly was so large and swollen with your future son that you often cried when seeing yourself in the mirror. Not because you were insecure, but because you didn’t think the skin on your stomach should stretch that much.

“Are you sure he won’t accidentally pop out of my stomach like in Alien if he presses against me too hard?” you had cried to your doctor of a husband who looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be laughing or mortified of your lack of common sense.  “I promise,” Natsuo smiled, pressing a kiss to your swollen hands, but you didn’t believe him.

But your entire body hurt at the moment. Every piece of flesh and contracting muscle was swollen to its max. You didn’t feel cute. You didn’t think you were cute as you lay in your bed with a million pillows fluffed around your body because you could no longer lay on your back. Your lips were pulled into a pout, your eyes shining with tears as you sniffled.

“Natsuooooo!” you wailed, your feet kicking against the mattress pathetically, calling out to your husband, who was doing who knows what. “Natsuoooooooo!”

There wasn’t even a response back to that, and for some reason, it infuriated you. Hormone and pain-fueled anger shot through your pregnant veins as a demanding cry left your lips. “TODOROKI NATSUO!”

“Yes?!” came the distant faraway voice, the scuffing of a chair on the floor and the pittering of feet as you remained on the bed, suddenly feeling guilty and sad. “Coming!”

So when Natsuo peeked into the room, his glasses sitting on the crown of his head telling you that he was probably looking through his research, you began to bawl. You had the audacity to tell Natsuo that you weren’t crying as your face burned with your embarrassing tears and as you soaked not only your pillows but your face with your tears.

“No, no, baby, what’s wrong?” Natsuo asked his face swimming with concern and sympathy for you, his nine-month pregnant wife. He approached the bed, sitting at the edge, but that made you cry harder as you turned away from him, your back to him. You felt his hand touch your shoulder, soothing your shaking shoulders as he let you stay unresponsive as you continued to cry.

“I hate you,” you eventually spat, the guilt no longer sitting in your collection of feelings because this was his fault. You sat up on the bed, or well, tried to. You allowed Natsuo to help you into a sitting position that made his damn bastard kid sit directly on your bladder. You had just peed!

“What did I do?” Natsuo asks, his mouth twitching in that annoying way that told you he was trying to take you seriously, but given all your outbursts lately, his expectations were low.

“You put this stupid fucking bastard demon little fucking shit in my stomach!” you raged, grabbing him by his collar and shoving his face to your stomach where the stupid kid was trying to play open the damn piñata on your stomach! “He has been in here for nine-months too long. My entire body hurts, and my tits feel like they’re about to fucking explode with this milk I fucking can’t even fucking save because this little shit isn’t coming for two more weeks. I want him gone. I want your stupid fucking little not so cute breeding kink demolished,” you hissed, your eyes glaring into his grey eyes that glistened with emotions that made the raging fire of hatred and anger flicker and evolve into one that went straight to your cunt. Fuck.

“You don’t like being pregnant?” Natsuo asked, his hands slipping under yours and manages to push them off of his person. Your mouth runs dry as you stare into his darkened eyes, and you’re subject to his thoughts and actions as your sore back comes in contact with your pillows. His voice is in a soft drawl, each word coming out slow and thick like honey. “Fuck, baby, that’s too bad because you look so fucking bred with my son. You have no idea how excited I get whenever people get to see my pregnant little wife, stuffed with my child.”

His lips are brushing against your collarbone as he says that, the heat of his breath making you pant. Your fingers curl into his shirt, your mewls pathetic and needy.

Stupid fucking hormones. 

“Where do you hurt most?” he asks, lips trailing down the cleavage of your swollen with milk tits.

“E-Everywhere,” you gasp when his hands slip underneath your shirt that barely fits anymore. His weathered hands trailing up the swollen mountain of your belly, you can feel the little shit in you reaching out after his touch too. “N-Natsuo! Don’t t-tease me!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, my love,” Natsuo tuts as he pulls away from your collarbone, and you shiver as he manages to bring your shirt over your swollen stomach and past your aching breasts. “Do you need daddy’s cock to make you feel better? Maybe we’ll get lucky, and I can impregnate you again right now, so you don’t have to stop being my cute pregnant wife.” The thought of that sends your mind over the cliff. Realistically, you know that would be horrible, but the way his voice spoke in such a husky manner, and knowing that he is fucking obsessed with your pregnant, successfully bred body, a part of you hopes it happens. You watch with horny need and desire, ready for your husband’s mouth, fingers, and cock to please you and your horny state. But as you try to get your hands to his pants, the strain of his cock evident to you, you realize he hasn’t moved. “You’re lactating.”

You blink, and you peer down at your breasts, and you shriek at the murky white liquid dripping from your enlarged, swollen nipples. Through your entire pregnancy, you had managed to never leak milk in front of Natsuo. More often than not, you were with Fuyumi or Rei or your own family when it happened when he was at work, but for the past month, when milk was starting to leak out without your spoken permission, he had never been around. 

Natsuo tilts his head, his tongue pressing between his lips as he coyly looks up at you, grey eyes suddenly appearing jet black. 

You breathing piques.

And you don’t have the time to question why your husband looks like a predator cornering a prey as he sinks down, mouth suddenly enveloping a single nipple.

“NATSUO!” you shriek, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his hot, wet mouth latched onto your nipple. 

His tongue twirled around your leaking nipples, lapping at the liquid that was coming out on its own, his hand on your other breast, keeping it upright, and you realized with a distant thought that he was somehow preventing the milk from spilling from your unlatched onto breast. You trembled under his hold, body feeling like it was being electrocuted as his teeth slowly sunk into your nipple, and he began to suck on your swollen, inflamed skin. It wasn’t anything different from how he usually sucks your breasts while the both of you fuck, but it felt to a greater degree of intensity and fervor for some reason. A rush of liquid, a slam of electricity slammed through your nerves as you wailed for Natsuo, your legs managing to hook over his waist as he sucked and sucked on your nipple.

Milk flowed from your free nipple, filling Natsuo’s mouth like a bottomless pit. Natsuo drank the sweet, warm liquid in his mouth, some of the murky fluid dribbling from the corner of his mouth as he sloppily drank you. Entirely obsessed with the taste of you.

“That’s so dirty of you!” you cried beneath him, hands weakly beating on his shoulders. “You’re so dirty, daddy! So d-dirty! You stupid, breeding idiot doctor pervert! D-Don’t you know that m-my milk isn’t — nghhh, oh my fuck, yes, yes just like that!!!! The milk — aaaahhhh!!! oh my god — the milk’s for the baby!!! N-Not… fuck, fuck, fuck, not for you!”

You tried to stare him in the eye but found the raw lust and want in his eyes to be overwhelming, your body trembling as you looked away from his gaze. The slight discomfort of having the milk being ejected from your nipple in such greedy, powerful sucks soon fades into throbbing pleasure. Your head knocked back into your once tear-stained pillows as you cry for Natsuo, the milk in your breasts leaking out even more now that there was a hungry mouth waiting to be feed. 

Your cheeks pounding with embarrassment. But you had to admit the feeling of his mouth, wholly and greedily consuming your milk made your cunt throb with heated need, and you were more than delighted to find that even in this position, your cunt ground against his hard cock.

He pulled away with a wet pop, his lips and chin absolutely wet with your milk, and you whimpered at the sight. If you knew any better by the way your breast no longer hurt, you’d say he sucked you dried.

“It’s my responsibility as a doctor, the father of your child, and your husband to make sure your milk is suitable for my child,” Natsuo calmly almost wickedly explained, his mouth suddenly against yours. “It’s my job to fulfill your body’s every little demand and need until you’re fucked and sucked satisfied.”

The sweetness of your milk suddenly invaded your mouth, and you cried at the taste of your milk.

“See,” Natsuo grinned, and you panted as he pulled away. He began to remove his pants and underwear, sliding down his boxers to reveal his beading, swollen cock, and tore your undies, unfazed by your scream of dismay as he spoke the entire time. “How can you hate when I put a baby in you. Especially when you can produce milk that fucking sweet, my love. I can’t wait to stuff you full with another kid, see you this fucking pregnant again. So soft, so cute, absolutely helpless and needy for anything and everything I can offer.”

Your cunt scorched and clenched in need, your panting, barely open eyes focusing on how Natsuo rutted his cock through your soaked folds, and how he had another hand to your other breast, pinching, almost milking your nipple.

Horny fury throbbed deep within you.

“Todoroki Natsuo, if you don’t fuck your pregnant fucking wife right now, I swear to go—aaahhhh!!! Shit, fuck!” you screamed as Natsuo’s incredibly thick cock finally entered your pulsing walls, stretching you out beyond what you were ready for as your body twisted and writhed against your pillows. Jaw slack open, tumbling heaving breathes, and half formulated curses escaping your mouth as his cock entered you.

Your eyes fluttered impossibly fast, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Natsuo shifted his hips further into you. It seemed that while being pregnant, your cunt had become stupidly tighter, and Natsuo’s cock, which you could take without even breaking a sweat nowadays, had come to absolutely wind you like some blushing virgin as of late. 

“Shhhh, shhh,” Natsuo whispers against your cleavage, his hips rocking into you at a slow speed, teeth skimming and biting alongside your still swollen with milk tit. “Be a good mommy and let your daddy fuck you while drinking your milk, okay?”

You couldn’t even come up with an articulate word to say. Your head nodded, you think, you couldn’t even tell as his cock dragged up your walls, making your head spin just a bit as his mouth enveloped your thus far ignored nipple. 

There were moments where you felt like you’ve come to orgasm without actually orgasming. The sensation of his cock shifting in your cunt that was absolutely so tight, you could feel the pulsing veins on his cock beating against your walls with his pounding blood. But it was that wordless sensation of the milk being sucked from your swollen breast that made your toes curl with satisfying lust, the heat of his mouth, and bite of his teeth on your throbbing muscle and flesh that had your hurting hips shifting for more friction.

Pounding, blissful pleasure washed over you as the slurping noises of Natsuo greedily, hungrily drinking in your milk.

“Faster,” you cried when the not quite an orgasm faded from your skin but left a static sensation in the tips of your fingers and toes. Your hands went from his shoulders to thread and yank at his hair. “Faster, daddy, fuck me faster, drink my milk more! Do it harder, please, please, I need you more! I want to feel this more!”

And Natsuo, true to his belief what a doctor, a husband, and the father of your child should do, did what you demanded.

His hips rocked into you, the squelching noises of your wet pussy were loud and demanding. The rocking juices and essence from your legs seeping out with every rocking slam, splattering onto your lower stomach that Natsuo dutifully avoided. His mouth that was nursing on your nipple sucked and sucked; loud smacks and massive gulps you swore you could feel on your breasts made your thighs tremble with lewd need. You tugged at his hair, absolutely riveted with the way he drank you, shaken with the fact that found this attractive.

Natsuo drank your milk mouthful by mouthful, his blackened eyes piercing through you completely, making your lust haze gaze feel weak and absolutely shallow as the glinted with glee with every successive slam of his hips into your cunt. 

“Fuck, your milk is so fucking sweet,” Natsuo growls against your breast, his mouth taking a break from your breast as you pant wildly. “Gonna take all that I can before the pup shows up.”

The words curl and pulse in your core, and you can barely manage to stammer out his name at the thought of him feeding himself with your milk for the next two weeks before your child finally came. You shake with the need, your head nodding pathetically with the agreement to let him do as he wants as you slowly whine out a verbal response, but there’s no reason to answer. For when you do, your words heavy on your tongue, his teeth sink into your nipple, his cock brushes against your cervix, and the throbbing, heated pit in your stomach, so dense and heavy with your satisfied need and lust, exploded with the peaked wanton need. An orgasm ripped through your body, your heels digging into his hips as you screamed his name. Your body trembles as you can feel that all too familiar heat of his seed spilling within you, the sticky fluid swimming in you as he continues to feed on your milk.

Your nipples ache with the overstimulation, but you can’t muster anything more than a few pathetic whines as Natsuo continues to drink. He sucks and sucks and sucks until he pulls away. The final gulp of your milk loud and sends a shiver down your spine as he wipes the back of his hand to his wet lips. 

Tears somehow explode into your eyes as you stare up at your beautiful husband, who, now that his own hormones have faded looks entirely scared.

“Oh fuck, what’s wrong, my love? Do you need me to go get ice cream? I’ll get the bath running, and we can go soak—?”

“I’m s-so h-happy,” you smile, a watery grin on your face as you grab onto your husband’s jaw that is still slightly wet with your sweet milk. “You make me feel so happy, so good. You make me feel like the best person in the w-world, and I wouldn’t m-mind being pregnant with more kids as long as you keep doing that.”

Natsuo stills, his scared expression melting into one of fondness and slight cockiness, “I think I can make that work.”

[harry-writings]

Arrogant Son of a Bitch

- The one where Harry and Y/n are separated, but Harry gets jealous when he sees Y/n getting ready for a date with another man 

Masterlist 

-

It was the last thing Harry wanted to see, really — Y/n in a tight red dress, hooking gold earrings into her ears while she rubs her lips together,  spreading the crimson lipstick upon the surface, legs ending at her black stilettos.

But that’s exactly what Harry sees when he walks into her apartment to pick up their six-month old son, and he’s never had so much of an urge to gouge his eyes out from their sockets and leave them lifeless upon the ground.

There’s someone else. Y/n’s dolling herself up, wearing her Sunday best, letting her hair down in loose curls even though she hates curling her fucking hair, for somebody else — for somebody that’s not him, for somebody that’s not her husband.

“Hey, Harry! Thank you so much for coming early. I don’t want to be late!”

She still has yet to look at him — still scrambling around her living room, gathering everything she needs — and Harry doesn’t even know if he wants her to. One glance from her when she looks like this... and he’ll be a goner, he knows it, and he can’t afford to get all jealous and possessive in front of the very woman he broke things off with not just one year ago.

It was his idea to file for divorce, at the end of it all. Y/n had tried everything she could to mend the marriage that was in constant shambles, but Harry was always too stubborn and too prideful to admit to all the things he’d done wrong. And he did everything wrong.

He didn’t treat Y/n with the kind of love he had once given her — with the kind of love she always deserved. He treated Y/n like an obligation rather than a choice, a burden rather than a need, yet she always kept her promises and lived by her vows because it wasn’t just a casual relationship that could be thrown away and forgotten about, it was marriage.

She signed them up for marriage counseling, but Harry failed to show up to half the meetings. And when he did, he’d just sit there with a scowl on his face saying that talking about their feelings wouldn’t help any because there were no feelings. She tried working around his schedule to go on getaway vacations together to respire their connection, but he always spent the portion of time he could have spent with her working on more of his music.

And when she got pregnant with his baby, Y/n was desperate and silently hoped that the little bundle of joy growing inside of her would help fix all that had been broken between them. But it was no avail. If anything, it only made them grow further apart. Perhaps it was because he felt more bound to her when he didn’t want to be with her at all.

He told her he wanted the divorce half-way through the six month mark of her pregnancy. She was big, she was struggling, and she was absolutely exhausted, yet Harry couldn’t find it in his heart to push it aside any longer. He needed to let her go.

But as Harry stands here, watching Y/n looking as gorgeous as ever for another man that isn’t even hers, makes him want to take back everything he had ever done.

And it’s not that he didn’t before — he’s wanted to take it back from the second he walked into their home with divorce papers in his hands, his pregnant wife sobbing on the kitchen counter, asking why it had to be this way — it just feels like a fresh wound on his already scarred and fragile heart, and he genuinely feels as if a part of him has died.

“You’re going on a date.” Harry says knowingly, his frown deepening in the corners of his lips. And he knows he has no right to feel the way he does — so upset and hurt, like his heart had been ripped in two — but he can’t help himself from falling apart.

At the end of the day, she’s still his wife. Sure, the divorce papers had been filed, but there was still so much that had to be done for their last final steps. But of course, just like everything else that involved Y/n, Harry didn’t make the time for it.

Y/n shrugs, her thumbs twiddling together with her head down, eyes casted at the ground beneath his feet.

It’s been a year since Harry brought the divorce papers home, and Y/n’s barely looked at him since. Sometimes he’s thankful she doesn’t, but sometimes, in times like these, he wishes she would… even if it’ll hurt.

“Yeah, I guess. Just some guy I met the other night at the grocery store. Couldn’t reach one of the cereals for Topher and saw me struggling. Guess he thought I was pretty or something and told me he wanted to take me out.”

“I didn’t ask.”

She knows she should have stopped herself from talking sooner, but being around Harry makes her head spin and her body disassociate from herself. She doesn’t ever know what to do, or what to say, whenever he’s around.

There’s a part of her that tries so desperately to act as if everything is normal — like nothing had ever happened — mainly for Topher’s sake. But the other part of her knows that that’s such an impossible thing to do no matter how hard she tries.

Y/n purses her lips, dropping her hands at her sides in defeat. “Right.”

And it’s not that Harry wants to talk to her this way — like he doesn’t care about her, like he can barely stand the sight of her anymore; it’s the farthest from the truth, really, he’s just utter shit at saying how he feels or what he’s thinking. He’ll lie, and lie, and lie — chew on the truth and spit it out if it means he doesn’t have to apologize.

And right now, that’s all he wants to do. He wants to break down and drown in his tears, hold her to him and tell her how sorry he is for everything he’s put her through. But he has this unexplainable, unsettling wall built around him that he can’t knock down no matter how hard he swings at it.

He curses his career for it, really. He wishes he could be one of the celebrities that says fame hasn’t gotten to his head, but it has. In the most selfish, most arrogant of ways, fame has made him so prideful that he never puts himself to blame for anything that happens in his life.

His mother was the first one to tell him, and still never fails to remind him now that the divorce has been put in place.

You never fight for anything in your life. She’d always say. You think you’re too good for your mistakes. Put your wife through hell, making your kid go through hell, all because you swallow the two words that could fix everything you’ve ever broken. 

But he wants to fight for Y/n. Oh, how badly does he want to, but at this point, it’s just too late. All the damage had already been done, and no woman could ever forgive a man that left her during the nine months she needed the man she loves the most.

“Didn’t mean it like that, just —“ he croaks brokenly, gulping down the cries he doesn’t deserve to weep. “Does he know you’re married?”

The question makes her feel guilty — really guilty, the kind of guilty that makes her stomach swim with bile because nothing she does is ever going to feel right, for either of them. And she knows going on a date when the divorce hasn’t been set in stone is just making everything so much harder.

But what is she to do? Wait around for Harry to finally take the time out of his music to go to the courtroom so she could finally move on? She can’t keep being legally bound to a man that no longer loves her, she can’t keep doing this dance by herself because she’ll never have the heart to find somebody else.

And she just needs somebody else.

Because she’s still so deeply in love with Harry, it hurts. Everyday feels like the world is grabbing her at her feet, sucking her into its core until she’s floating in the midst of everybody’s life except her own. She’s living day by day stuck between the confines of marriage and separation and the worst part is, she feels not only separated from Harry, but also from herself.

It was so good. Everything about them was just so good… and Y/n doesn’t know what she had done wrong to make Harry fall out of love with her.  But somewhere between their picture-perfect relationship hid an unbearable amount of blame being put onto Y/n for things that weren’t her fault, or her responsibility, or her obligations.

The stupidest, littlest of things would set Harry off — leading to heart-wrenching periods of silence, an uncomfortable amount of tension, and constant reminders that her love wasn’t enough to make him happy.

And she just can’t keep living with that anymore. She can’t stand the fact that she has to keep thinking of him because he’s still here, all the time, swimming in the same gray area she’s been drowning in.

“That’s not fair.” Y/n frowns, her eyes briefly looking up to get a glimpse of his face, which is red and as broken as ever, and she curses her wandering eyes.

“I don’t go out with other women because you’re still my wife.” Harry nearly sobs the last word, still finding it hard to speak after everything they had been through. Because really, is she his wife, or just the ghost of her? “I still love you just as much. I’d be cheating on you if I even thought of it.”

And it’s true. Harry hasn’t looked at or even thought of another woman since the moment his heart found hers. She’s the first one he sees — in a room full of people, in his daydreams, in his music — she’s the only one he sees, in everything. He couldn’t even imagine it.

Y/n flutters her eyes closed to keep her composure, wishing now more than ever to be sucked up into the earth’s core again because she doesn’t want to be here anymore — in a room so close to him, feeling his every breath, hearing his every word echo in her head.

“Harry… I’m not your wife anymore. We’re separated. You’ve made it more than clear to me that you don’t love or want me anymore. I can’t keep living my life on your time.”

Y/n’s looking up at him as if begging him to understand, but he doesn’t. He may have fucked up one too many times down the line, but at the end of the day, he’s never once told Y/n he didn’t love her anymore. And he couldn’t even dream of telling Y/n he didn’t want her anymore, he’d throw up if he so much as tried.

There isn’t a universe Harry wouldn’t want Y/n in. She’s all he’s ever wanted.

“When have I ever said that?”

He asks it like her words sucked all that was left out of him and she almost wants to take it back, but she won’t.

“You didn’t have to.”

His eyes drop to the floor and a new wave of tears begin to rise at the surface, pushing at his throat.

He has nothing to say for himself.

Y/n sighs, her eyes wandering around the room as she waits for Harry to break this deafening silence, but he doesn’t. So, she lifts her purse higher upon her shoulder before coughing awkwardly to the open air.

“Topher is in the car seat all ready to go. His binkie should be in there, too. I would love to stay and chat but I really need to get —”

“Please, don’t go.” Harry interrupts, his voice cracking as he closes his eyes, loose tears falling down his cheeks and hitting the hardwood floor below them, hand inching closer to hers. “Stay here with me.”

She’s frozen still, the feeling of her hand being this close to his knocking the breath straight out of her lungs and nearly sending her to her knees. Because how badly does she want to — how badly does Y/n want to break the laws of reality just to be with her Harry again, even for a second, but she can’t keep letting herself believe they will ever come back from this. She can’t keep going back to Harry.

She has to stop choosing Harry.

“I can’t, Harry.” She breathes out, not having the heart or the strength to look up into the very eyes that never fail to make her fall in love. “I can’t stay with you any longer. I have to go.”

And before Harry could reach for her any farther, she was already gone.

-

Y/n was practically dead to the world — all her apartment lights shut off, all doors and windows locked, phone turned off and buried somewhere beneath all the covers she’s been hibernating in — before she heard someone practically beating down her front door.

She rolls over to her nightstand, groaning as her eyes blink to adjust to the blue light reading 1:04AM vibrantly in the dark. She sits herself up on her elbow, huffing out a breath as her hands reach up to rub the dryness out of her eyes.

She looks around her room as her brain scrambles to process reality, but it isn’t until another series of knocks jolt her up from where she sits, nearly losing balance in the process.

“Why? Why can’t I have nice things?” Y/n whispers to herself as she makes her way out of her bedroom to her front door, way too far out of her mind to bother checking her peephole before unlocking the knob and swinging it open.

“Mitch!” Y/n shrieks, her arms held out stiffly in front of her as Harry’s body is thrown into them — not so sure if holding him up is the appropriate thing to do considering they haven’t even touched each other once since the separation. “What the fuck!”

“You don’t answer your fucking phone!” Mitch fumes, his eyes bewildered and unsteady as his body is so visibly angry he doesn’t even know what to do with himself — pinching his lips between his fingers, practically walking in circles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pit of fire burning in his chest. “Needed to get him the fuck away from me!”

Mitch knows it’s not Y/n’s fault that she wasn’t answering his calls — it is well over midnight, after all — but he has been so pushed over the edge that he doesn’t have time to think about anything else other than being as far away from Harry as humanly possible.

Y/n’s struck with confusion because in all the four years she had been with Harry, he never had any problems with Mitch. Sure, they’d bump heads about which notes sound better in certain songs, or bicker a bit after long hours at the studio, but never anything like this.

“Been pissing me off all night about your stupid date! Proper fucking idiot, he is. Files a divorce with you, for what? To get jealous at every man that makes eyes at you? Arrogant son of a bitch, had half the mind to knock him in before I decided to bring him here.”

“Shut up, Mitch!” Harry growls groggily against the skin of Y/n’s shoulder.

Mitch turns his body to face Harry’s back, one hand on his hip while the other rubs along the roots of his beard, his face scrunching with what Y/n can only consider to be a look of complete malice.

He knows he shouldn’t be throwing Harry under the bus about their private conversations, especially ones that consist of Y/n, but there’s only so much he could put up with.

It’s sickening, really — having to constantly be there for Harry when everything that’s gotten him to this point has been his own fault. Harry doesn’t deserve comforting, but Mitch has been alongside him for far too long to not care about his feelings and emotions… no matter how wrong they are.

And what’s even more sickening is seeing how badly he’s hurting his own self by avoiding the divorce entirely instead of taking responsibility for his actions. Mitch could go on and on about all the ways to make things right again, yet still in some way, somehow, it always seems to go right past Harry’s head.

Because trying to sway Harry’s mind or his decisions is practically like pulling teeth — he’ll always find a way to go against what everybody else says and it drives Mitch up the wall. He’s sick and tired of wasting his breath all because Harry’s too stubborn to take anybody else’s path but his own.

“You couldn’t just bring him home? Where the hell is Topher?”

Y/n is struggling to keep Harry up because she’s not even sure if she’s doing it right. He’s got his entire body pressed up against hers, all of his weight being held by her still half-asleep arms and he shouldn’t even be here.

“No, I couldn’t bring him home because the first three times I tried, he wouldn’t get out of my damn car.” Mitch growls through clenched teeth, the side of his fist taking one last swing at Y/n’s open door.

He takes a couple deep breaths, his elbow leaning against the doorframe and he squeezes his eyes shut to regain his composure. “Topher’s with Sarah for the night. Now, for the love of fuck, make Harry grow a pair of balls so he can finally talk to you and not me, please.”

His eyes are pleading with Y/n’s silently, and she nods her head at him in response. She can’t leave Harry like this if she wanted to, anyways.

She sighs, holding Harry against her chest now to get a proper grip on him, and she can feel him press a small kiss against the crook of her neck.

“Have a good night, Mitch. Take care of yourself.”

She smiles softly at him, and for a moment in time, she feels like everything might be okay.

Maybe she only feels this way because this is the first time she’s touched Harry in a year now and it gives her the sense of clarity she’s been missing for so long. Or, maybe she feels this way because Mitch was always the one who was rooting for them despite everything they’ve been through, and knowing he still cares enough about the both of them to bring Harry to her apartment to talk gives her the smallest bit of hope she’s been needing.

“You too, Y/n.”

Mitch gives her one last reassuring look before he shuts the door, leaving Y/n and Harry alone in the confines of her apartment with absolutely nowhere else to go.

She guides him to her couch, which was a bit more difficult than she expected considering Harry is nearly twice her height and much stronger than he realizes. It takes almost all the energy out of her to get him to take a few steps of his own until he’s finally sitting upon the cushions.

“Your date.” Harry mumbles against her shoulder while she lays him down upon the couch, his glossy eyes looking up at her with genuine hurt and concern when his head lays upon the pillow. “Did he treat you nice?”

Y/n smiles softly to herself, reaching for the blanket sprawled atop of the couch — the very blanket Harry gifted her for the first Christmas they spent together. It’s been her favorite ever since.

“I didn’t go.”

“You didn’t go?”

Harry can’t deny that he feels happy about it — happy that she didn’t spend the night with somebody else, happy that she couldn’t find it in her heart to move on from him quite yet. But another part of him — a bigger part of him — suddenly feels guilty, and empty, and like his insides have all been set on fire until they all melted to nothing.

She’s been alone all night. She’s been alone every night. And sure, she had Topher to keep her company throughout the week… but she’s lonely and she’s sad. He can see it in everything she does. And tonight was her one night to be herself again, and somehow, Harry managed to find a way to take it all away from her, just like he’s done with everything else.

She was going to go if he hadn’t guilt-tripped her and begged her not to leave. And she looked so pretty, so fucking breathtaking, for nobody to see it. And that alone is enough to make the last bit of his heart completely shatter until his chest becomes a voided pit.

Y/n nods her head, emotionless, as she pulls the blanket up to his chin. “You were right, we’re still married. It wasn’t fair of me.”

She knows it would have been fair either way, but after seeing how upset Harry looked upon the realization that she was going out with somebody else, she couldn’t stomach the thought of spending the rest of the night trying to make another man happy — one, she’s sure, wouldn’t have even made her happy.

She still didn’t choose Harry, but she didn’t choose anybody else, either, and to know that puts her head at rest. At least for a little while.

“With that being said,” Y/n coughs a bit, blinking away the tears that were mere seconds from falling, “You really need to pick a court date, Harry.”

He knows he does. He’s been draining himself out trying to think of the best time to get it all done — it has taken him twelve months, after all. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he doesn’t want to be done — not with their marriage, not with her.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever want for it to all be done. And so whenever he plans to meet with his lawyer, he can only get as far as parking his car in the lot because he never has the strength to actually walk inside.

Because he knows once he does, there’s no going back, and he can’t imagine himself not going back to her.

So, he’ll cry. He’ll scream, he’ll punch at his steering wheel, he’ll hit his head against the headrest over, and over, and over again until he’s so worn out he can hardly breathe. Because he can’t do it. He doesn’t want to do it.

There have been five appointments he couldn’t bring himself to go to, and she has no idea.

“I can’t.” Harry whispers with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands — refusing to look at her because he doesn’t know what will happen if he does. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to leave you?”

Y/n’s breath hitches in her throat because of all the things she expected him to say, that surely wasn’t one of them.

Deep down, she knows he’s hurting, but she never expected it to be so hard on him. Besides, he made it seem so easy — to leave her, like she meant nothing to him after the four years they had been together. And she couldn’t count the amount of times Harry had reminded her that he didn’t have feelings for her anymore.

So that’s what she always believed — that he didn’t love her, that he didn’t want her, that he didn’t need her. But hearing Harry cry out those very words, do you have any idea how hard it is to leave you?, makes her question everything she had ever known.

Because he did leave her — has left her on her own for a year now and has never given her a reason to believe he wanted it any other way until this very moment; Harry laying drunk on her living room couch, crying over the thought of her with another man. He has barely looked at her, has barely even touched her, until now — until it’s been far too late.

“You’ve already left me.” Y/n whispers, the tears she once blinked back now falling freely and silently down her cheeks.

There’s a crack in her voice that Harry can feel down his spine, shaking him to his core and leaving him frozen still. He’s never heard her sound so hurt and broken before and he feels his chest hallowing from the inside out; he is the only one to blame.

If he could just tell her everything he hasn’t — if he could just prove to her that not a single fiber in his body has let her go — no matter the consequences, he would in a heartbeat.

But Harry really hasn’t fought for anything in his life, he wouldn’t even know where to begin — he wouldn’t even know what to say, or what to do, to pick up all these pieces. And the worst part is that he wants to, so badly, but he worries that it won’t be enough — that he won’t be enough — and he won’t be able to handle it. His entire world would collapse.

He blindly reaches for her hand because she’s the only one that can ground him and he feels like he’s falling into a never-ending abyss with no safety-net. Truthfully, he’s been feeling that way for an entire year, until now, with her hand in his.

“Not even a little bit.” He breathes out from quivering lips, eyes unblinking, staring helplessly at their intertwined fingers.

Y/n sobs behind her pursed lips, squeezing her eyes closed as she stomps her foot down upon the floor because this can’t be happening. He can’t be doing this, not now — not when she’s this far into grieving his loss, not when she was finally taking her first step away from him. He can’t.

“Harry —”

“Before you say anything please, please just listen to me.”

Both of his hands are now cradling hers in his palms, slightly tugging at her arm because he is wholeheartedly desperate to say everything she needs to hear.

If he doesn’t get it all out now, he may never have her again. And if he has to spend the rest of his goddamn life being so lonely that he begins to loathe the world for moving on when his own stopped turning, he’d rather do it knowing he at least tried.

And if there’s one person he’d try anything for — do anything for — it would be his wife.

“When I filed the divorce it — it wasn’t because of you, okay? I didn’t — fuck — I thought it was my only choice. And it wasn’t because I didn’t love you the same, or because I wanted to be with somebody else, it was because I wasn’t what you deserved.”

Y/n’s staring down at him with furrowed eyebrows and open lips, everything around her moving so quickly she can hardly keep up.

These are answers she’s been begging for for nearly two years now, yet somehow, nothing could have prepared herself for them. She’s gotten so used to wondering — so used to questioning how the universe will take control of their destiny that now, having all the answers seems to defy all forms of faith.

It’ll all be in her hands now. What they’ll be in a year from now, where they’ll be a year from now, or who they’ll be with a year from now is all up to her. Because at the end of it all, Harry wouldn’t be pulling her closer, sobbing into her hand, breaking down all his walls and boundaries if he didn’t want her to break off the divorce.

“I would be away from you for months on end, so goddamn far away that god forbid something were to happen to you, I couldn’t be the first one by your side. I couldn’t be the first one to make you smile each morning, or be the first one to keep you together whenever the world was breaking you down.

“I wasn’t your first, for anything. I couldn’t be. And it was tearing me apart, knowing you were all alone every day and every night. But then I’d come home and it would feel — it would feel so good, like time hadn’t passed between us… but it did, so, so fast, and in a blink of an eye, I’d have to leave you again.”

His mind thinks back to all the times he’s had Y/n crying on his shoulder the nights before he had to leave the country, clinging onto him and begging him to stay with her just a little while longer.

They were so in love with each other that they hardly wanted to spend any time away from one another because they had a connection that was so raw and so real, they couldn’t find it in anything or anybody else. So each time he had to wake up at the crack of dawn to travel the world, Y/n pouting on the bed watching him pack his life together, would break him in two every single time.

The world meant nothing without her.

“The hole that kept swallowing me up every time I had to walk out on you became too much. But I couldn’t tell you that. I couldn’t tell you that because — because I wanted to hold it together so badly for you. I needed to keep it together because I knew if I couldn’t, you wouldn’t be able to, either. It was already so hard on you and I knew that and I kept leaving. And if I had told you that I spent every single night away from you crying my fucking eyes out, you’d sacrifice everything else you had to come be with me… and I couldn’t do that to you.

“And the more I kept bottling it up, the more I took it out on you. I didn’t want to — didn’t even mean to — but I did, in ways that I couldn’t justify to you because I couldn’t even justify them to myself. Then there was a part of me — the worst and most selfish part of me — that couldn’t apologize for it because the world had somehow convinced me that I didn’t need to.”

By now, Y/n’s knees are pressed against the front of the couch as Harry hooks one of his arms around her legs, his forehead making a home at the front of her hip.

“I’d just get more upset with myself, more angry, more ashamed. It was this constant cycle — feeling like I wasn’t enough for you, then blaming you for all my mistakes, pushing you away even farther. Then you got pregnant.”

They both let out a sob.

“And all I could think about was… if I couldn’t be there for my wife, how could I be there for my son? How could I show him the world and give him everything he ever wished for if I couldn’t even do that for you — for the one person I would choose over anything?”

His chin rests where his forehead once did, his red and puffy eyes trying their best to stay open enough to take a good look at her.

“I loved you beyond words. I looked at you and I saw my entire life in front of me. You continuously blew me away, every single day. Being away from you was — it was dangerous. You weren’t beside me and I was just this empty pit wallowing in hotel rooms that I didn’t even want to be in. I couldn’t get enough of you no matter how much I tried. You consumed me whole, and yet I still found a way to convince you that you were the one who wasn’t enough for me.”

He lets out a laugh through his cries, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’s capable of destroying such beautiful things — things that were eternal, things that were once unbreakable.

And here he is, praying that he can also be the man that fixes them.

“Then I thought… if she found someone else that could give her everything she deserved, maybe he could be a better father to our son, too. And I was so scared and so angry and so sad I just — I did what I thought would make you happier instead of being a fucking man and owning up to it. But I didn’t, and now look at what’s in my hands. You’re all alone because of me. You’re crying because of me. Topher has to go back and forth between his parents because of me. I’m skipping meetings with my lawyer because I decided to file for a fucking divorce I didn’t even want. I broke our family apart, I broke us apart, I tore you from the inside out and didn’t even tell you that I was sorry.”

His eyes are closed, mouth open as it chokes out sounds of sorrow and pain, sounds of collapsing lungs and a torn chest.

“And I am so fucking sorry, baby.”

He speaks between sobs, his words broken and cracked but Y/n hears them loud and clear. He’s got her hand cradled against his soaking cheek, her palm pressed against the corner of his mouth that Harry keeps kissing.

He can’t fucking breathe and he really thinks this is it — that these are his last moments on earth and the next time he blinks, he’ll never open his eyes again.

Would he even want to, if Y/n isn’t the first thing he sees?

“I’m so sorry that I wasn’t the husband you needed me to be. I’m sorry that I let you down. I’m sorry I let our son down. I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been waiting on me and held yourself back because of me. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t loved.”

He keeps kissing at her hand, rubbing at the back of her legs, holding onto her like he’d collapse if he dared let her go. He knows he’s going to have to eventually, but he can’t think about that right now.

He needs this — to feel her, to smell her, to soak her all in before their new forever begins, spent apart and living lives so far away from one another that they couldn’t cross paths even if they wanted to.

This is his goodbye. He knows it. She’s not going to forgive him no matter how much he begs for her to understand — how could she? He can’t blame her. He hasn’t even forgiven himself and doesn’t expect anything more from her now, other than to listen to him one last time.

“I love you so much and there will never be a universe where I don’t, or won’t. I think about you… everyday, every second. To this day, I wake up reaching for you at least three times a night, wondering why you aren’t with me. Every time I come to pick Topher up I spend an hour in front of my bathroom mirror telling myself that I have to hold myself back from you. And then when I see you, I have to keep myself together and hold myself in place because you just get more and more beautiful with every day that passes and — and it breaks my heart all over again.”

Y/n reaches her hand down to his hair, gently brushing her fingers back against his scalp because he needs her — she knows he needs her and she can’t choose to be selfish now.

Right now, he doesn’t need her to be anything but his wife, and this may be the last time she’ll ever be his.

They keep each other embraced for a while, silently, unmoving and bracing themselves for the fall they’re each going to have to take.

These are their dying moments — their final moments before the casket gets shut and thrown six feet below them — and it won’t be long before the dirt from the ground gets piled up again, over their bodies, leaving them to decay in the life they once believed belonged to them.

They know it’s to come, because this is the first time that they have been so close to each other, yet feel so lonely all at once. And it’s not supposed to be this way.

“I can’t pick a date, Y/n,” Harry breaks the silence with a whisper, almost losing his voice along the way because what he’s about to say is enough to kill him, “but if you give me one I’ll — I’ll do it, okay?”

He holds her hand even tighter than before.

“If that’s what will make you happy, I’ll do it.”

[autisticandroids]

ok how would girls au work because i feel like to keep true with the theme of toxic gender roles them being cool and butch feels very at odds with that when like the girl version of that would be like christian girl with an instagram talking about country life and her future husband like it would be an interesting combo for them because john would be like ur an inherent failure for being a girl but also the expectations are lower already for them compared to john and sons

yeah it’s like weird! but i think about it a lot. i made a big fun post with it here.

basically my ideas are a combination of serious (dean) interesting (sam) and self-indulgent (cas).

like first of all i think sam is an out lesbian and i think she came out during the fight before stanford. like, i think she told dean when she was like fifteen, but she told john the night she left. she spat it in his face, actually. 

i think dean is like. dean loves her unconditionally but is also lightly homophobic to her about it, you know? they were accustomed to sharing motel room beds as kids but dean won’t do it anymore now that she knows sam likes girls. dean is also like, weird to her about her interactions with other women, and also talks constantly about men, as though men-liking were a cool exclusive club only dean is invited to.

i think sam has like butt length straight hair and doesn’t wear any makeup ever but doesn’t like. wear mens clothes or anything, like she wears plain clothes that are cut for women. on hunts she puts her hair in a braid. maybe she braids a spiked strap into it like beka cooper.

dean is like........ dean is a lot like young, pre-john mary i think. think the song remains the same. dean is obsessed with performing masculinity, while at the same time terrified of seeming mannish or queer. she walks a weird line, and ends up overperforming both masculinity and femininity. she regularly challenges dudes twice her size to arm wrestling contests in bars, but she never goes out of the motel room without a full face of makeup. like she’s obsessed with doing both. masculinity for respect, and femininity for conformity. you know that thing dean does with his voice? the harshening? the intentionally adopted accent and tough guy tones? she does that too. and her voice is raspy, like rachel miner’s. she’s just as invested in her “heterosexuality” as canon dean.

she wears dean’s same green army jacket but underneath it she ties up a flannel shirt so it bares her midriff. she wears her hair like s13 mary, except that sometimes she puts it in little pigtails. 

cas is the easiest because cas’ gender presentation doesn’t matter at all except in how OTHER PEOPLE relate to her, so it’s less a question of “how would cas do woman?” and more a question of “what would it be fun to see other people/dean specifically react to?”

so basically like. jimmy novak is a frumpy feminine christian mom. still wears the trench coat and probably a suit but when i say suit i mean blazer, pencil skirt, tights, blouse (or maaaybe a button down), low-ish heels. long hair in bouncy curls (think rowena’s hair but no bangs and black). actually jimmy novak probably pinned her hair up in a slight updo.

anyway i’ve decided that i refuse to try and remember what actually happened with cas falling in like, canon, like how close he got to human. this au’s cas gets close enough to human that she has to start like. showering. anyway she can’t take care of the hair so it gets tangled in a giant rat’s nest and dean gives her a bathroom chop. she has to borrow the winchester sisters’ clothes, because she has to start changing clothes but also because she can’t fucking walk in jimmy’s heels or in that confining skirt without the assistance of her grace. 

all the winchesters’ clothes look baggy on her because she’s kind of spindly and narrow and flat as a board. like dean and sam have big shoulders, big hips, and big breasts, and cas has zero out of three, so anything she wears looks like a smock. she keeps wearing the coat over whatever they give her. she’s tallish (five feet eight or nine inches?) but dean is taller and sam is freakishly tall. cas could probably pass for a man alone but when she’s with dean or sam it’s obvious she’s a woman just because of the heights.

when she returns to angelhood at the end of season five, she’s wearing jimmy’s white office button down, but no bra underneath because the only reasons she would need one would be to either make her boobs look bigger or to hide her nipples and cas isn’t interested in either of those things and bras are uncomfortable, no blazer on top, a set of cargo pants that look feminine and form fitting on dean because dean is in possession of an ass and hips, but baggy and dykey on cas because she is not, combat boots (also dean’s), and the coat, and her hair is just like canon cas’ hair but way choppier because dean cut it for her.

anyway, dean treats cas in a WILD way, like. they do some intricate rituals in season four? they are dean winchester and castiel, after all. but after cas butches up in season five and then stays that way dean pushes it into overdrive. “i wish you were a boy so i could date you” shit. dean lets cas put a hand on the small of her back. she jokes that cas is her boyfriend. when cas sleeps, they sleep in the same bed, “since you can’t possibly share with sam, she’s a dyke.” also she called cas cassie a lot when cas looked more feminine but switches exclusively to cas when cas looks more masculine. like it’s this whole “”””straight”””” girl intricate ritual where one is attracted to a masculine woman so one coercively masculinizes her further.

sam tries to check in with cas to see if cas is cool with this forcible masculinization and weird gender relationship, because sam is gay and Understands or at least thinks she does. she also catches wind that cas is here to smash a lot sooner than in canon. but anyway cas rebuffs her because cas hates sam. 

tangent, but one of my least favorite things that happens in mid spn, starting i think in s6, is that they start needing plausible deniability for cas, so they start pretending him and sam are like, friends. like 6.20 “i did it to protect the boys. or to protect myself. i don’t know anymore.” like there’s all this emotional stuff where cas is clearly talking about his emotional connection to dean, but sam gets included in order to make it seem SLIGHTLY less gay. and that’s annoying because of the no-homo-ness but it’s actually more annoying because 1) i liked s5 cas’ bitchiness towards sam i think that killed and 2) if sam and cas are gonna be friends after cas was a bitch and called sam an abomination and shit, develop it! develop it! don’t just Say that they are.

anyway it’s my au and i say what happens so the plausible deniability “both the brothers are important to me” shit does NOT happen and cas is a bitch to sam throughout s5&6. they do eventually bond later? like cas still takes sam’s hell trauma, and sam feels like she owes her for that (even though it was CAS’ FAULT IN THE FIRST PLACE but sam is batshit like that). so that’s what kind of gets them to eventually bond a little and become friends and comrades. 

also sam clocks cas as gay. obviously. sam tries to inform cas about being gay. because sam too is gay. it only kind of sticks. cas doesn’t really understand how human societal roles work. cas has HUGE angel autism and i support her.

also as long as we’re talking about five and six, why don’t we deal with male lisa. so obviously the kid thing doesn’t work. the thing that lisa does that makes dean like :o is not “have a kid that might be dean’s” but “tell dean he was going to propose.” this implies that they were dating in the past longer than canon dean and lisa but oh well. 

however, when dean gets pulled back into hunting, she’s six weeks pregnant by lisa and doesn’t know it. cas immediately tells her, and offers to give her an angelic abortion. she accepts without hesitating and cas does it. the fact that this - cas taking ownership of dean’s reproductive organs in a somewhat invasive way, even if it was wanted - contributes to their whole.... season six..... dynamic. dean never tells lisa about this.

that’s everything i can think of. i have work in four hours.

[atlas-private]

Hello, how about a scenario with Mama Arc going to visit her son in Beacon, Jaune is happy to see his mother.

Meanwhile the entire Beacon staff is in a panic, because in Ozpin's words, he doesn't want to have to deal with that monster.

(You actually just handed me a way to introduce my version of Mama Arc. For this I thank you.)

---

Pyrrha: Jaune?

Jaune: Yeah?

Pyrrha: Is that woman currently holding the Headmaster in an Armlock your mother?

Jaune: Yup, she did mention something about "Opening a can of whoop ass on the man who threw me into a forest."

Nora: Was she also the one who basically beat the snot out of the faculty members that rushed her when she got off the Bullhead?

Jaune: The very same.

Ren: Why though?

Jaune shrugged.

Jaune: Something about a Bounty on her I guess, she used to tell me about how she used to run a gang after dropping out of Beacon.

Pyrrha: Your mom was a student and has an active bounty on her?

Jaune: I guess, my dad was the one who claimed it after he got her pregnant. Dad says it was a "Enemies to Lovers" type thing. Although my mom says it was because he was better looking and actually worth a fight than her own gang lackeys were, plus he promised that if she beat him he would do anything she wanted. You know, Arc's word?

Ren: That's rather concerning.

Pyrrha: But very interesting.

Nora: What's her name anyways?

Jaune: Oh, it's Lachaira. Grandma said something about it meaning Steel in a different language.

Nora: Cool!

The group continue to watch as Jaune's mom is tackled by a faculty member she had knocked out previously.

Pyrrha: Should we help out?

They watched as the shorter woman shoved the larger man off of her and delivered several rapid punches the man face. The last one proved effective as the hook she sent made the man's head jerk violently before dropping to the ground with a thud.

Nora: It looks like she's winning.

The Headmaster was still in the floor as Lachaira made her way to him, the group thought they heard the man make a plea before she put him into an impressive arm bar.

Ren: I don't think an arm is meant to bend that way.

There a snap that echoed from Ozpin followed by a loud yell. The group winced when they heard it.

Nora: Hey Jaune?

Jaune: Yes Nora?

Nora: Is your mom single?

Jaune, Pyrrha and Ren looked at Nora in confusion and surprise. They then saw Jaune's mom pick up and dust herself off before walking towards them with a small limp, several scratches and a few bruises.

---

Lachaira Arc. Tanned skin and standing at a proud 5'5" with, in Nora's words, a body that looked like she lifted Ursa on a daily and punched boulders for fun. Her black hair was showing the faintest of silver and braided into a low ponytail. Dressed in a simple white shirt that was now dusted with dirt, tucked into a pair of black fitted pants with leather chaps over them and wearing a pair of sturdy black steel toe boots. She had finished using a small towel to wipe the dirt off her face to show the slight tomboyish looking face she had. Of course what struck out the most was the pair of blue eyes that were the same color, if not darker than Jaune's.

Lachaira: So I take it you kiddos enjoyed the show back there?

She grinned and showed off her oddly pointed set of teeth.

Nora: You bet Mama Arc, cool teeth by the way!

Ren: Pardon me for asking, but are you a faunus?

Lachaira chuckled.

Lachaira: Let me guess, was it my perfect skin or alluring curves that gave it away? But yeah, I'm a Faunus.

She narrowed her eyes.

Lachaira: That isn't going to be a problem is it?

Ren raised his hands.

Ren: Not at all, just curious was all.

Nora: What kind are you?

Lachaira raised a brow.

Lachaira: Curious one's aren't ya, well I'm a Honey Badger, besides the teeth I also have the tenacity of one, or at least that what my folks say.

Jaune walked back into he dorm room with a glass of water.

Jaune: Here you go mom, couldn't find any soda so I hope this is okay.

His mom cooed at him and stood up.

Lachaira: Aw, my poor little Knight is worried about his mama.

She grabbed him a bear hug as his team heard the various pops of his spine.

Lachaira: I'm so glad I was able to raise such a sweet boy like you.

Jaune however struggled for breath.

Jaune: Thanks mom... Love you too... Please let go?

She gave a 'oops' and let Jaune go as he greatly sucked in his breath.

Pyrrha: Ma'am if it's okay to ask, why did you beat up our Headmaster?

The Arc Mother shrugged.

Lachaira: I gave my word that I would open a can of whoop ass on the man who threw my son into a forest.

Before Pyrrha could ask she felt Lachaira's hands on her face as she stared deeply into her eyes. The Spartan began to blush slightly as he face drew closer and closer before stopping a few inches.

Lachaira: Huh, you're right kiddo, her eyes would make even Emeralds envious.

Jaune: Mom! I thought you promised you weren't gonna say anything from the letters!

Now the Spartan let out a full blown blush while his mom laughed.

Lachaira: Sorry sweetie by I had my fingers crossed. Now then.

She let go of Pyrrha's face and looked towards Ren and Nora.

Lachaira: Which one is the bubbly bomber and which is the pretty boy?

Nora and Ren only gulped as Jaune covered his face in despair and embarrassment.

---

In the Beacon Medical Ward

Several of the Faculty members now sat with casts and bandages on their bodies. Amongst them was the Headmaster himself in a full body cast now as his sipped at his coffee with a long straw.

The Deputy if Beacon did not looked amused as she read over a file on the very woman who did this

Goodwitch: Lachaira Arc, Honey Badger Faunus. Dropped out of Beacon, former leader of a gang formerly called Oso Heaven, had a bounty placed on her by the kingdom of Atlas, bounty collected by a man named Gregory Greene.

She turned the page and sighed.

Goodwitch: So it was James that had a new bounty placed on her the very day she arrived here, and by your request?

Ozpin stopped sipping and looked at Glynda.

Ozpin: When she was student she was the best of in her year, more than that she was able to single handedly take out three teams of trainees after an altercation involving her Faunus aspects. In her words she stold then, "You're a bunch of fucking pansies that deserve to get dicked down by an Ursa in heat." promptly broke a number of limbs of her opponents and causing an entire team to drop out as well due to the severity of their injuries, without any weapon besides her bare hands and teeth. She then handed in her form for leaving the school, flipped me the bird and took the last Bullhead that was leaving that day.

Glynda: But now?

Ozpin gave a breath.

Ozpin: She seems to be a mother to one our students and was simply here to visit. I was wrong to quickly assume she would cause havoc. No charges will be pressed either as it was our own fault for instigating a retaliation from her.

A man on one of the beds with bandages wrapped around his face spoke.

Steve: I said I was sorry!

Ozpin: Well sorry doesn't fix broken ribs now does it Steve!?

Glynda let out a sigh, silently thankful that she wasn't around for the initial confrontation.

---

July 31, 2021

(Sorry about the late response but Work happened. Anyways here she is Lachaira Arc! I always like the idea of Jaune's mom being some kind of Faunus, it's just skipped a generation, plus I just like a lady that can kick ass one moment but be all sweet the next.

Kinda like Quetzalcoatl from the Fate series.

Anyways, hope this was sufficient enough so have a great day and thanks for the ask!)

[miscellaneous-bnha]

Maybe it’s just me, but I’ve been having this god awful itch for (lowkey) Yandere Scumbag Hawks.

Could be friends to lovers... if you squint? Slow burn? But not really? Uh....

Female! Reader

TW: Scumbag Hawks, Lowkey Yan, Breeding, Dubious consent, Hawks in a rut, Hawks has a knot simply because I deem it so.

You, a normal civilian, happen to stumble across a weakened pro hero Hawks who took an emergency landing on your apartment patio.

Of course you’re not going to leave him there; as warm as his coat may seem, what’s the point of leaving him out in the snow when you’ve got a nicely heated apartment you could let him in to.

Either he’s gone through some seriously rough shit or he’s a lot more out of it than you think, but he nearly scares the piss out of you when he points a feather blade at you, eyes wild and furious, before slowly registering that you’re just a normal civilian.

He grins— it’s more of a grimace than a grin, really— and moves the blade away from you, laughing sheepishly before breaking into a cough. When he moves his hand away, you can tell there’s blood on it.

“Sorry about that, pretty bird. Wasn’t expecting anyone. I’ll be taking off now.” He tries to climb to his feet, but he’s a lot more battered than he’s willing to show.

“Wait! Why don’t you come inside for a bit? Get some energy back before you go flying off to some other balcony.” You offer, and he smiles wryly.

“Would that be alright? I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

“Of course! Come in, come in!” You usher him in as he limps, helping him to the couch before going and shutting the patio door.

It turns out he ended up needing to stay a lot longer than either of you originally planned; a surprised snowstorm hit late into the night, forecasted to last for some days. He said that he could always try to brave it if you felt uncomfortable with a “strange man” in your apartment, but you only laughed it off.

“Honestly, with how often your private life gets invaded, you’re by far one of the least strange people.”

——————————

He ends up having to stay three days before the storm calms down, but he’s gotten significantly better since then.

Originally, you were worried about the blood in his cough, but it turned out to be a side effect of the blistering cold winds being harsh on his throat and a rough hit to the chest that left him winded and coughing, but nothing more.

The three days he did stay were rather enjoyable, and you found yourself missing his company when he had gone.

You didn’t think much of it though; he’s a pro-hero with an image to upkeep, so you doubted that you’d see much of him personally after this.

But ever the surprise, you found him knocking on your patio door not even a day later, grinning and holding up a bag of food.

“Thought it would be nice to at least return the favor. For taking care of me, y’know?”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Hawks. I did it because it was the right thing to do.”

“Eeeeh, still. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to see a pretty bird again.”

——————————

And just like that, you came to have an unexpected friendship with the No. 2 pro hero.

Whenever he needed a quiet place to crash or some company, you found yourself leaving the patio door open.

In turn, if you ever felt unsafe or if you had a bad day at work, a simple brush of the feather he’d given to you was all it would take to send him flying your way.

Monthly visits turned into bi weekly visits, then into weekly visits, then every other day. Soon enough, he started coming every evening. “What’s a meal without good company?” He’d said, holding food in one hand and drinks in the other.

“All that fried chicken isn’t good for you, Hawks. Let me cook you some actual food every once in a while.”

——————————

When he had suddenly disappeared for a week, you were concerned, but didn’t want to push him. Then two weeks went by with no Hawks, and you started to get worried.

When the third week rolled around, you unconsciously gripped the feather that hung around your neck, screaming in shock when there was a sudden **”THUD”** against the patio window.

“Hawks!? What are you doing?!” You try and check his face for bruising or bleeding, but he tried to bat at your hands weakly,

“I’m okay, I’m okay. Felt you touch your feather, so I came.” You wince,

“I’m sorry about that. It was an accident.”

“Ah, no worries. I’ll just head back home then.”

You fully intended on letting him go, but your mouth tended to work faster than your brain sometimes.

“Um, actually, Hawks...” you start, only to freeze when he faces you,

“Yeah?” You’re silent for a moment, then you shake your head,

“No, it’s nothing. Sorry.” You smile, but he doesn’t turn to leave again,

“Nah, I think there’s something on your mind. What is it?”

“... I just wanted to make sure I didn’t... offend you, or something. You’ve been gone for a while and I just...” you shuffle a bit, “I mean, it’s not really that big of a deal either, y’know? I just— heh— If you’re just tired of coming around all the time, that’s cool too.”

He looks baffled for a moment, then the realization crosses his face. You think for a moment you see him trying to plot something, but it’s gone before you can think on it.

“I um.... actually... do you mind if I sit?”

“Of course not. Feel free to do what you like.”

He takes a seat on the couch, his wings ruffling and fluffing up before they settle again. A part of you wonders if you really should have looked up bird behaviors.

“I.. started my rut, but I didn’t think it was possible.” And suddenly you start to feel a little stupid.

“O-oh... I— uh— I’m sorry.” He wheezes out a laugh,

“No, no, it’s fine. I should have said something instead of just disappearing.”

“Well, I mean, that’s your private matter so—“

“Technically yes, but... also, you have a right to know. You are the reason I went into a rut, after all.” Your jaw drops for a moment.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Not to say that I’m trying to blame you— I’m really not. It’s just... you know how you’re always cooking meals, letting me in?”

“Y...yeah?”

“My body thought I was trying to nest, so... it put me into a rut.”

“Ah... I see.”

You both sit awkwardly for a moment, so he stands and moves to leave.

“Anyway, sorry about that. If it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t come around anymore.”

“I, well, no. Wait!” You grab his arm as he tries to leave, making him halt,

“If... if it’s my fault, I want to help.”

“I, uh, w-well... it’s not— I— you know we’d have to fuck, right?”

You’re both bright red, you more than him, but you nod wordlessly.

“Well... so long as you’re willing to take responsibility...” he mutters. You’re too busy looking at your feet to see the wild grin on his face,

—————————

“Fuck, Hawks!” You yelp, his cock plunging in and out of you roughly,

“Shit, sorry baby bird...! Your pretty little cunt’s just sucking me in!” He growls, his hands pinning your shoulders down.

You’re stuck with your face in the mattress, ass in the air. With him looming over you, feathers spread across your room, shuddering in time with his wings, the only think you can hear is the wet slaps of his hips smacking into yours.

“Hawks...! You gotta slow down...!”

“I’m trying, but your greedy little pussy won’t let me go!”

You whine, head fogging over when his cock somehow manages to push deeper.

“See? You’re just sucking me in, baby!”

You feel the brush of more feathers falling onto you, shivering and tickling your already overheated skin. His claws dig into your shoulders when you twitch, making you borderline scream and clench tightly around his cock.

“Ooooh fuckfuckfuckfuck fffffUCK! Keep squeezing just like that, pretty bird. Tighten around my fat fucken cock!” You feel him drape himself over you, his chest pressed to your back, wings closing around the both of you as much as they can.

You suddenly feel something stretching and tugging at your entrance, and you start to squirm again.

“W-wait! You promised to pull out...!”

“How am I supposed to pull out when you’re the one squeezing so tight??” He growls, thrusts getting more frantic,

“Hawks!”

“Ffffffuck— just shut up and take it. Take my fucking cum—!”

You cry out sharply when his knot fully inflates inside of you, the sudden stretch sending you flying over the edge with him.

“Hawks...”

“Shhh.... this is all your fault, remember?”

“But you promised—“

“And I tried, but your cute little cunt just wouldn’t let go, pretty bird. You were practically begging for me to fill you up. Get you pregnant with my little chickadees.” He rubs your belly,

“But that’s okay, right? You said you wanted to take responsibility, remember?”

“Yeah—“

“Then take responsibility, baby. Have my chicks, and I promise I’ll take responsibility too.” The words to argue back are stripped from your mouth when he starts grinding his still knotted cock into you, making your mind go blank,

“C’mon, pretty bird. Say it for me. ‘I’ll have your chicks, Keigo’.”

“Ha—“

“Uh-uh. Not Hawks. Keigo.”

“Kei—!” Your voice cuts off into a silent scream when he hits the sweet spot deep inside you,

“C’mon, baby. Say it and be mine.”

—————————

You don’t remember if you ever actually said it all those years ago, but you can hardly bring yourself to care.

You smile as you rub your swollen belly, watching as your eldest son and his little sister play in the yard.

“C’mon, kids. Time to go back in. Daddy will be home soon.”

“Okay!!”

And, sure enough, not even 10 minutes later, you hear the front door open, the voice of your husband echoing through the house.

“Where are my little chickadees?”

[alirhi]

Loki ranting

Okay. I had this thought in my head of like just compiling links of all the Loki shit I've posted/reblogged so far so that when I get into a conversation about the show and how it fucking disgusted me, I can just be like "here. here's this masterlist post, go read all this shit. This is my entire argument, and not only mine, but a lot of stuff posted by people far more intelligent and level-headed and eloquent than I am, whom I happen to agree with." Because the alternative is constantly getting fired up all over again, and that is exhausting.

BUT! I'm stupid and don't know how tumblr works. Apparently I can't just be like "give me all the Loki-tagged shit I've got" I can only search all the Loki-tagged shit on all of tumblr. And I'm not scrolling back through all of my posts. I talk too fucking much for that shit 😂

So, I'll try to remember all of my grievances with how the MCU has treated Loki, and all of the excellent posts made by other, equally upset fans, and put it all together here under this nice, neat little cut for everyone else's sanity and scrolling convenience...

For people who actually read my shit fairly regularly - bless you, you crazy, patient people. I love you! - this is going to be a lot of repetition of shit you've already read. Probably at least twice. I'm passionate and I have a terrible memory lol. Sorry.

Anyway, first, for those who don't know me and haven't been following my explosions of rage for the past couple of months, some quick background: I do not read comic books, so Loki's Marvel comic canon means nothing to me. I know almost nothing about it. The reason I'm so in love with the character in the MCU is because I am an eclectic witch and the deity I've actively loved and worshiped the longest in my life (literally for as long as I can remember) is Loki. So when he was mentioned in The Mask, I squeed. When they named Matt Damon's character after him in Dogma, I cheered.

When Thor came out in 2011, I just about died from happiness. I was hungry for any representation of this underappreciated god, no matter what it was. I didn't even bitch about how underpowered he was, because at least he was there. But I'm getting slightly ahead of myself.

I can hear anyone reading this going "Why Loki? Isn't he, like, evil? Like basically the Norse version of The Devil?" Because I heard all this shit irl all the fucking time. And no. So let me give you a quick rundown of who Loki actually is.

Loki is a Trickster God. He's often referred to as the God of Mischief. He is not and never was evil, simply chaotic and hedonistic. Loki Laufeyjarson was the son of Laufey (that's mama; they changed her to a man for some reason in the movie) and Fárbauti. Right from the start, from his name, we get a sign of how Loki goes against traditional norms of the time, because in Norse culture, families were patrilineal, and surnames were "son/daughter of father" (which would have made him Loki Fárbautitason), not the mother. But Loki's surname is matrilineal. Feminist icon woo! lol

Though he's a Jotunn, Loki is counted among the Gods (Aesir) in Norse tradition. Depending on his mood, he is alternately helpful or disruptive to the other Gods. I'm not gonna sit and teach a whole text class on him lol but I'll use my favorite example of Misunderstood Loki - the conception of Sleipnir!

So, get this shit. This is also part of why I DO NOT follow Odin and never fucking will (a very small part, but still part of the reason). So, the other Norse Gods are petty motherfuckers, and they wanted some shit built but didn't want to pay the dude doing the building. So they were like "okay, if you can get it done in X amount of time, we'll pay you, but if you can't manage it NO MATTER WHAT, this whole thing is free." And they made sure he had NO help, nothing but him, his materials, and his Very Good Horsey. And this guy and his horse were fucking BAMFs. So it was looking like he was definitely gonna get it done in time, and Odin was like "nah, fuck that shit. I'm cheap." and so he sent Loki to distract the work horse. Loki transformed into a mare and lured the horse away, got fucked, got pregnant, gave birth to the 8-legged (for some reason) horse Sleipnir. Odin rides Loki's son into battle. Um. Kay.

So Loki helped Odin be a petty mf, and Odin got himself a new pet out of the deal.

Oh, also, because he's smart af and a shapeshifter and a master magician and genderfluid, Loki "fails" to fit the super fucking toxic and narrow Norse/Aesir view of "a real man". He prefers intelligence and manipulation to solve problems rather than violence, he's not afraid to behave like a clown if it gets shit done, and that grosses the Aesir out, so they constantly ridicule him for being "less than a man".

Loki is the God of the outcast and the misunderstood. The marginalized people from all walks of life. He is the God of the LGBT community. In modern terms, he's pansexual, polyamorous (married to Sigyn and they are deeply in love, but boy gets around and I've never seen any indication that Sigyn gives a shit) and genderfluid.

Okay. Focus, Ali. This is part of why I usually post multiple rants instead of one big long one XD The longer I ramble, the more I get sidetracked and forget the original point.

So. Loki's awesome, and being a Trickster, is powerful as all fucking hell. There's not much he can't do.

And now we come to Thor (the movie, not the deity). Loki's there! 24-year-old Ali is spazzing! All is right with the world!

Oh lord, they've actually done him justice?! Amazing! He's complex and nuanced and emotional, just like the real Loki! I loved this movie. Loved. It. The climactic thing with trying to blow up Jotunheim never really made much sense to me until someone made an excellent point the other day about Loki being raised in a racist society that was racist against his own race, he just didn't know it yet, poor child. Baby Thor was never corrected when he pledged to commit mass genocide, so Baby Loki probably absorbed the lesson then that Jotunns=evil and killing them all will win his father's love. Anyway, 2011 Loki was a beautiful, heartbreaking portrayal of the God I've loved all my life and spent 24 years longing to see depicted on the big screen.

Then The Avengers happened. And I saw another Loki very close to Norse mythology - mainly, how he's treated. In the beginning of the movie, he's sick, exhausted, and in pain. He can hardly stand, he stumbles and needs help when he walks. He was very obviously tortured, and the sickly blue light of the scepter's control is in his eyes. That gets less and less pronounced as the movie goes on, showing Loki working his way free of it, but in the beginning, he's a mess. Because he was tortured and used by Thanos. Marvel directly confirmed this, and that he was under the scepter's/Mind Stone's control. Loki's actions are not his own in The Avengers. He's under both threat and Thanos' direct control. The movie actually shows The Other directly threatening him to keep him on task, because this is not Loki's plan. It is not what he wants. He's being used and villainized... Just like in real life. It hurt to see this done to him, but the accuracy was too beautiful to ignore.

Thor: The Dark World comes out. I've heard people complain that this movie is the weak link in the Thor trilogy. I disagree. I think that's Ragnarok, for a bunch of reasons, but we'll get there. (And for the record, I loved Ragnarok, too. It was a funny movie. Infinity War and the Disney+ series are the only portrayals of Loki in the MCU that I truly fucking hated.) Anyway, good, fun movie. Had its faults, as all movies do, but it still followed Loki's real-life arc in a way. How? By having Loki dragged back to Asgard in chains and imprisoned underground. Again, not super happy that this happened to my love, and having to see it on screen was painful, but at least in the MCU he's not chained to a rock with venom dripping on his face for eternity, so there's that. (poor Sigyn. how tired do her arms get, holding up that bowl? best wife ever, amirite?)

In TDW, we're shown Loki's love for Frigga, who favored him and taught him magic as a child. We see his bravado; his attempts to mask his true feelings, especially grief. We see him slowly coming back to himself after the events of The Avengers, and slowly mending his relationship with his brother. He accepts that Odin will likely never love him, but Thor just might, because they were close when they were young. "I didn't do it for him." No, no my sweet, you did it for your brother, and a little out of guilt for what happened to your mother.

At the end, Loki fakes his death and escapes, taking the throne, and I have mixed feelings about this. Not the writer's choices here; I love that completely! A natural progression in Loki's story. But my joy is tainted by how closely they're following the Eddas now. Because Loki's escape from his prison heralds the beginning of Ragnarok. And Loki will die in Ragnarok. I don't want to see that play out in front of my face. I won't be able to handle the grief (spoiler alert! IW broke me. I almost walked out of the theater. Loki's death was legitimately fucking traumatic for me. I don't even care how pathetic that is. That grief was real, it was intense, and I still shake and cry when I think about it.)

Marvel announces that Thor 3 will be called Ragnarok. The internet treats this as a shocking revelation. I roll my eyes and mumble "duh" to myself and move on XD

Then they say Ragnarok will be a buddy comedy. I throw up a little in my mouth and no longer want to live on this planet. If they're going to make something called Ragnarok, could they at least treat it with even a fraction of the respect they've shown these characters thusfar? Jfc. I mean, I'll see it anyway, because I'm a whore for Tom Hiddleston lol. But come on, people!

I hated that they made Hel the long-lost older sister and Fenrir her fucking pet/attack dog. Those are my favorites of Loki's children! Hel is such an incredible badass that the early Christians named their dimension of eternal torture after her! They were terrified of her, to the point of naming the place that terrified them most after her. That's awesome! And Fenrir's just the best. I love wolves. Those two details, and Odin's retcon of "we're not Gods! ...lol, except your sister. she's totally a Goddess. and def gonna kill literally everything, so... good luck! byyyeeeee" pissed me off royally.

The rest was great. I genuinely liked this movie. Still do. And they finally used The Immigrant Song! That was pretty cool. If they'd thrown in Bring the Hammer Down and Thunderstruck, I might've called this movie perfect. XD

I wasn't totally in love with their portrayal of Loki in Ragnarok. Yes, the falling for 30 minutes line was funny, as was "I have to get off this planet" and "YES! That's how it feels!" And "Get Help" was funny as hell. But also, like... There is no way Loki would have been the dumb one in that first encounter with Hela. Also, he can teleport and project copies of himself and shit, so... He would not have been that desperate to go straight back to Asgard and bring her right along with them. Loki's not stupid. But whatever. Movie's gotta movie.

What I did love was seeing the slow mending of his relationship with Thor continuing, and the badass fighting on the bridge. I also loved that, like Real Loki, Movie Loki helped when help was needed, was quick and clever, and while he was carrying out the main plan, he was also planning ahead and grabbing the Tesseract. Yes, that drew Thanos right to them, but that's a whole other thing. Loki never would have left that thing on Asgard to be destroyed or lost.

And now Infinity War. Hooooly fucking shit. You know what? No. I'm not going into this. He was killed, years of character growth were erased forever, my heart fucking shattered. The end.

Endgame. IW hurt me so bad I didn't see Endgame until this year. I actually watched Civil War first (for context: I had actively avoided all Cap movies until this year because I fucking hate Steve Rogers. I find him insufferable. Did not realize what I was denying myself until I watched CW and finally saw the charms of Bucky. When he appeared in IW, I was so lost. XD I was like "...who dis? Murder Jesus?" also I just... didn't care. I was numb by then from crying through most of the movie over Loki)

So, anyway. Endgame. Loki picks up the Tesseract in alternate 2012, escapes, fans go "yay! he didn't actually die!" I go "yes he fucking did. Five years of his life, gone. Five years of growth and change, erased. Loki is dead. This will not be the same."

I was more right than I could have predicted. Now we come to the point of this rant. Sorry it took so long, but you were warned lol.

The Loki series makes me so angry I actually get sick to my stomach. It was fucking TRASH. When I praised Marvel for following Norse mythology so faithfully earlier? Yeah. I DID NOT MEAN TREAT HIM THE WAY THE OTHER GODS DID. I did not mean paint him as a pitiful clown, a joke, a caricature of who he truly was, with his pain and suffering played for LAUGHS.

This is supposed to be 2012 Loki, newly freed from Thanos' control. The Loki we saw in the beginning of TDW - snarky, exhausted, nihilistic. The Loki who rolled his eyes and said "get on with it" expecting to be killed.

The bumbling clown flipping on a dime from posturing to calling himself weak is not 2012 Loki. That is not ANY Loki. That is Tom Hiddleston in a black wig doing what he's told by a shitty writer who had no fucking idea what he was doing and was salty about his (bad) original script (for something totally fucking unrelated) getting killed.

In Episode 1, Loki is mocked, imprisoned, stripped against his will, tormented, belittled, and given a flippant summary of all the trauma Actual MCU Loki suffered that this one skipped out on, with no context, no acknowledgement of the trauma he's already lived quite fucking recently, and with the narrative twisted to not only erase all the abuse he's suffered, but to make it all his fault. And this is supposed to make him want to help these people?

And worse, IT FUCKING WORKS. WHAT?! I CAN'T- FUCKING WHAT?! Remember when I said LOKI IS NOT FUCKING STUPID?! So why is he STUPID?

Episode 2, he's a child. Mentally, this Loki is a fucking child. Now we've erased all the growth and development of his entire adult life. He's dopey, impatient, impulsive, desperate for a pat on the back and actually shows it. Yes, abused and neglected children crave the positive attention we never received, and we often grow up to be a bit emotionally stunted. But not all of us, and not Loki. Not as we've seen him EVER in the rest of the MCU. Playful and a bit callous at times? Absolutely! But not a big dumb fucking puppy.

Episode 3, a ray of hope, despite Sylvie! (I hate Sylvie) Loki casually admits he's pan/bi; labels never come up, but he admits to being with both men and women! He sings! Not really relevant to whether I approve of his portrayal or not lol but Tom has a beautiful voice, Norwegian ("Asgardian" lol) is a gorgeous, entrancing language, and I could watch that one bit on loop for eternity and never get bored. And then, finally, we see a glimpse - a glimpse - of Loki's power! He stops a falling building and pushes it right back up! Are we finally getting to see what he can really do? Will the next episode bring us Loki in all his glory?

Nope. 4 and 5 we see him mocked and pushed around and utterly irrelevant. Again. We see tiny reflections of what he could maybe theoretically do in other random Loki variants, but the "main" (lawl. main. it was the Sylvie and Mobius show. Loki was never the main anything.) Loki? Nothing. He wears his heart on his sleeve for no reason, bonds with the man who imprisoned, taunted, and gaslit him, is killed, and continues to be a moron and a joke. Always the clown. Always the dumb one. The one with the bad ideas. The inferior Loki.

Don't even get me started on that finale. I can't. This already took so much out of me. Fuck Marvel. Fuck this fucking show. I just... I'm done.

[casually-slips-into-coma]

An Essay (sort of) Explaining the Many Grievances I Have With Debbie Gallagher

Once again, Debbie is the fucking worst.

I’ve been wanting to write out my feelings towards her character for a fucking minute now just so that I have a full concise list. Now, I can talk about how Debbie has a constant need for attention, or how her character has become someone unrecognizable in the past few seasons, or how she’s a terrible mother, but what I really want to focus on is the center of my issues with her: her sexuality. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t about to be a homophobic rant or anything. I just think her queer development has been written terribly and that should be addressed.

Too often I see people praising queer characters or relationships based solely on the fact that they are queer, and as a member of the community, I get it. I am also starved for representation. This, however, does not mean I’m going to settle for annoying, poorly written characters.

Why Make Debbie Queer?

The first thing I want to address is why suddenly develop a WLW storyline for her. Given that Debbie started as a little girl on the show, this gives the writers a lot of opportunity to give a character like that interesting storylines because she does not yet have a solid personality. It gives writers the liberty to take her story anywhere they want to without the constraints of established character because she, as a person, is still developing into adulthood. The show runners unfortunately dropped the ball with this.

From season 4 and onwards was when Debbie began showing interest in dating, sex, and romance having just turned the corner to puberty. From then up until season 9, she has shown exclusive interest in men. It isn’t until Alex the welder that Debbie deviates from this path. Alex is portrayed as a stud who confuses Debbie. I am inclined to believe that Debbie was originally attracted to her because she was masculine and therefore close enough to the people Debbie had previous experience with.

This arc was treated very much as Debbie experimenting with her sexuality, something that Alex also ends up realizing after Debbie tells her that having sex with a girl is “not that bad” and “like having sex with yourself” (S9E4). Once this storyline wrapped up (with Debbie shouting “you make me want cock again”) the writers powered through, adamant about Debbie now being a lesbian.

I have two theories as to why they’ve been fighting so hard for her queerness.

1) This was around the time that Cam was leaving Shameless. This obviously didn’t end up happening, but I was under the impression that the writers were freaking out at losing their token gay character and needed to fill that position. When Cam ended up staying, they were stuck with a queer Debbie storyline and decided to just go with it.

2) Shameless was planning on doing a WLW storyline regardless of Cam’s choice to leave and were originally going to give it to Fiona and her lesbian tenant that she had a close relationship and a lot of chemistry with, but Emmy Rossum wanted to move on from Shameless, and so they pivoted and gave the arc to Debbie, a character that was not supposed to be moved in that direction and so her new sexuality seemingly came out of nowhere. Fiona as a bisexual character would have made sense. Debbie still does not.

Shameless’s Awkward Relationship With Bisexuality

One of the biggest issues I have with Debbie is her insistence on being a lesbian. Lesbianism doesn’t come out of nowhere. Bisexuality, however, can. When you grow up being told that you are supposed to feel attraction to men, and you genuinely do feel attraction to men (which Debbie has expressed in past seasons/episodes) it’s easy to ignore your attraction to women and write it off as something that either isn’t a big deal, or something that isn’t there. It’s a lot more confusing than being strictly at one end of the spectrum. It would have been so much more believable if they had simply made Debbie bisexual. Unsurprisingly, they didn’t because the show has a history with bi erasure.

Bisexuality has been treated badly all throughout Shameless, used as a vengeful plot device back in the earlier seasons where Monica was only ever with women when unmedicated. Then in Season 7 when Ian’s boyfriend Caleb cheated on him with a woman (enforcing the stereotype of bisexuals being unfaithful) Ian, possibly acting out of anger or ignorance, said things like “only women are bisexual. When a man says he’s bisexual he’s really just gay”. The only semi positive bisexual representation on the show was Svetlana and Vee when they were in a poly relationship with Kev (though I also think that storyline wasn’t handled as well as it could’ve been).

This fight against the bisexual label in media is not a new one but it is also a harmful stance to take when writing a sexually fluid character. Debbie declaring that she is, in fact, a lesbian after waxing poetic about how Matty had a big dick and Derek had a great body and knew what he was doing is not the way to go. 

You could argue that Debbie, like many other queer women, is an unfortunate victim of compulsory heterosexuality, but frankly I don’t think the writers are well versed enough in queer theory for that to be a possibility.

Debbie as The White Feminist

Debbie is the pinnacle of white feminism. It’s an unfortunate thought that has occurred to me a few times throughout the show. She talks a big game as a man hater and someone after the equal treatment of women but she herself participates in a lot of problematic and anti feminist behavior.

For one, she r*ped Matty back in season 5 when he was blacked out and unconscious. This was a point in the story that was glossed over and one where she suffered no repercussions other than Matty no longer wanting to be around her. It was explained in the show that Debbie didn’t realize what she did was wrong until after she was explicitly told so because she was maybe 14 when it happened (not 100% on the age Shameless is very inconsistent about timelines). It was treated as somewhat of a punchline, something that Shameless has unfortunately done more than once when referring to male sexual assault (Mickey’s r*pe, Liam in season 10 ((i think??)) and in this latest season, Carl) but that is a different topic. 

There was also the time in which she lied to her boyfriend about being on birth control so she could trap him into a relationship with pregnancy (which also counts as r*pe!!) Good on Derek for getting out of that.

Debbie has also been pro-life in the past. Now I understand this was when Fiona was pressuring her into aborting her pregnancy, and as a pro choicer myself, I believe that Debbie was fully in her right to have bodily autonomy and go through with the pregnancy. This isn’t where the issue lies. It’s when Fiona finds out that she too is pregnant and tells Debbie that she wants an abortion that Debbie accuses her of “killing her baby”. Again, her behavior could be explained by her age given that Debbie was still a young teen during this time.

When her actions as a White Feminist become less excusable is mostly in the latest season. Her relationship with Sandy is one that I’m not really happy with because Debbie doesn’t deserve her.

Recently, it has been revealed that Sandy is actually married to a man and has a son. It’s explained that she was basically married off against her will at the age of 15 to a man twice her age. This implies that the product of the marriage, her son, was most likely conceived through dubious consent (or worse) at the hands of an adult when she was just a kid. Just because Debbie thinks that Sandy’s husband “seems nice” does not give her the right to try and make a victim of grooming feel bad about not wanting to be with her abuser. While I understand that Sandy’s son has no fault in how he came into the world, I’m still gonna side with Sandy when it comes to having to take care of a child she didn’t want and who is most likely a source of trauma for her. It’s not difficult to sympathize with Sandy and see that she’s clearly gone through something fucked up and Debbie, despite claiming to love and support her, AND despite her dumb white feminist arc about wanting equal pay and all that jazz, turns her back on the girls supporting girls aspect of feminism.

This isn’t even mentioning how shitty it was to just leave Franny by herself and assume that one of her siblings would take her to school and pick her up and stuff as if they don’t all have separate lives. She talks a lot about being a good mother but decided to “let off some steam” by fucking off to a gay bar to get loaded on coke and fuck a gay man (which wtf thats not a thing that really happens with casual coke but whatever I guess). Once she realized she fucked up, instead of taking responsibility she decided to paint herself as the victim as well as spew offensive bullshit about how she “probably has AIDS now” because of her sexual encounter with a gay man. No lesbian in their right fucking mind would ever say that because as members of the LGBTQ+ community, you are at least a tiny bit informed as to how devastating and tragic the AIDS crisis was for queer people.

(I also have an issue with how Debbie capitalized on her felony as a sex offender and her sexuality to start her Hot Lesbian Convict business but I think that’s enough said.)

Blame the writers

The show got almost an entirely new cast of writers after season 7 which is why the show feels more like a sitcom with low stakes and no consequences rather than a drama, but if there is a queer writer on the team it’s not very evident. Even the better half of the queer relationship story, Ian and Mickey, I don’t feel has really been done justice since the change in writers. It’s just become painfully obvious that the actress is a straight girl playing a gay character (not to mention I have never seen any chemistry between her and all of her female love interests). I don’t fault Emma Kenney (the actress) for this. I actually really like her as a person and I like the videos she makes about the cast and such, and I think she does her best with the script she’s given. My complaints with Debbie are targeted entirely towards the writers.

This brings me to my final point. I need them to let Debbie be alone. Her whole thing for the second half of the season has been that she clearly has abandonment issues and is afraid of being alone. It’s why she’s so adamant about keeping the house and fighting with Lip about it (I’m actually on Debbie’s side for that one but that’s besides the point). They had her and Sandy break up which leaves Debbie to spiral further into her loneliness. From a writing point of view, it makes sense to take this opportunity to give her an arc in which she can overcome that and feel comfortable with herself so that she can move on as an adult instead of jumping into a new relationship. This is especially true since this is quite literally the last season ever of the show and any character development needs to be wrapped up. Introducing a new character out of nowhere does not give the viewers enough time to actually get invested in the new relationship. It’s also unfair to Debbie’s character because her arc is going to feel incomplete.

Anyway,,,,,,uuuhhhhh,,,,,feel free to add on if u want lmao