#these macarons better not fail

[mochinek0]

Daminette December: 1-Fae

Sorry about the late start. As I explained before, I wasn't sure if I reread my own work too much or it was inspired and I didn't save anything. I tried looking for the fic here and on Ao3 and between work and errands, I couldn't find it.....so I gave up. I deleted the other one and started over. I didn't want to post anything until the the first one was redone. All the others should be coming out soon and on schedule.

Mar'i Grayson had a fascination with her Uncle Damian's girlfriend, Marinette. From the first time she saw her; she loved her. Damian had immediatley been called her 'Favorite Uncle'. He wore the title proudly, even though he had no clue as to why he had suddenly become the favorite. All he knew was it pissed of his older brothers.

"You brought the fairy!" Mar'i shouted, spotting Marinette at Wayne Manor.

It never failed to make Marinette giggle. Mar'i grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the sitting room. She quickly brought out her coloring books and asked her to color and draw with her. Damian sighed, as yet another date had gone wrong. He had wanted to show her his latest painting.

'Seems it will have to wait, yet again.'

"If you don't mind me asking," Dick started, "why is it funny when my daughter calls you fairy?'

"Oh, I don't think of it as an insult or anything." Marinette quickly expressed, "I find it funny because she and my Nona must know something I don’t. My Nona calls me her 'Little Fairy'."

"Mar'i, believe she is a fairy. Why" Starfire asked her daughter.

Little Mar'i smiled, "Uncle Damian brought her to life!"

'Huh?'

'What?'

'Brought me/her to life?'

The Waynes looked to Damian, who seemed just as confused by that statement.

"I swear if you guys did something and she saw!" Dick growled out.

Marinette turned bright red and squeaked out, "We've only kissed."

"True loves kiss!" Mar'i exclaimed.

Dick and the other looked at the couple, wondering how far that kiss went. Marinette hid in her hand and Damian wasn't fairing that much better. He was disappointed in his lack of planning. He was out of smoke bombs that would help them disappear from the moment, altogether.

Realizing the adults were still confused and getting upset, she ran out of the room.

"Be right back!" she cried out.

When she returned, the half-Tamaranean proudly showed a game box to them.

She shoved it in Marinette's face shouting, "It's you!"

Marinette leaned back and saw the game was titled 'Faefarm'. On the cover as a fae with side swept bangs and pigtails dressed in purple. She could easily see why the five year old thought it was her. She had moved away from her pink capri and switched more to a purple once she moved to Gotham. Bruce had warned her about standing out.

Damian smirked, "I guess I did find a Fae."

The Wayne family began to laugh.

"Don't worry, Marinette." Dick chuckled, "We'll keep your secret."

"Can I see your wings?" Mar'i asked, before flying around the room.

The room froze, waiting Damian's girlfriend's response. They hadn't told her about their nightlife and about Mar'i being half-Tamaranean.

"Sure." Marinette smiled.

'Huh?'

"Let's go outside, though." Marinette continued.

Confused, they followed the girls outside. Once outside, Marinette turned and faced them. They glanced at Damian and he didn't seem worried or concerned. If anything it seemed like he knew what was going to happen.

'What is she thinking?'

'Mar'i will notice if Jon or Star lift her up.'

They watched as she took a small purple macaron and threw it up in the air.

'What?'

"Astro Tikki, Spots On!" She shouted.

They closed their eyes to the bright red glow. When they opened them, they saw Ladybug with blue wings and a face mask. Marinette jumped up and hovered in the air.

"Let's go." Ladybug smiled, holding out her hand to little Mar'i.

Mar'i grabbed her hand and they flew up into the sky. Starfire flew up with them, leaving the Wayne boys confused. After shaking off their confusion, they turned to the youngest for answers.

"How?" Jason questioned.

Damian shrugged, "She figured us all out in a week after we met."

"How?" pressed Tim.

It had taken him months to figure out that Dick was Robin. He had chased them getting any picture he could and piecing the clues together. How had Marinette done it in a week?

"She designs for a living." Damian stated, like it should have given them all the answers, "Why do you think your clothes always fit so well?'

"Alfred could have told her!" Dick shouted.

"When was the last time you were measured by Alfred?" the youngest pushed back.

The boys tried to remember, but found they couldn't. Alfred knowing their measurements was a mystery as old as time. He always knew everything.

"Marinette has been our designer for three years now and she hasn't measured any of us, since her first day." Damian explained.

"Damn." Jason whispered.

"Uh, so, will we see her on patrol more often?" Dick questioned.

"Was she keeping out of sight all this time and you knew?" Tim asked.

"She doesn't suit up unless there is an emergency; there has been none. She prefers to work on her business." Damian declared, "She will make me extra food, if I choose to go to her place after patrol."

Before they could ask more questions, the girls touched down.

"Spots off." Marinette whispered.

"That was fun!" Mar'i shouted, "Let's do it again!"

"Agreed." Starfire expressed, happily, "I rarely take her into space."

"Space?" Dick exclaimed.

"What did you think 'Astro' stood for?" Marinette asked, "We'll ask next time, if you prefer. Besides I would have to make another power up to do so."

Jason and Tim snickered. Damian walked up and put his arm around her waist.

"I believe it is time to take you home. I'm sure they will have trouble putting her down to sleep now." he spoke.

"Oops." Marinette whispered back, ashamed.

"What ingredients should we grab at the store on the way home?" the youngest asked, leading her to his car.

"Oh, there was this fusion recipe I have been meaning to try." she spoke, as he led her away, "It's a vegetarian red curry and dumpling soup."

"Curry and dumplings?" he questioned.

"It has your heritage and mine." she answered, blushing.

Damian seemed to grasp the idea and smiled, "It sounds lovely. We can try it together."

Marinette smiled brightly at her boyfriend as he opened the car door. Marinette got in and waved as he closed the door. Damian entered the driver's side and they left.

"Man, he really did find a Fae." Jason expressed, "She has him whipped."

"Fae don't-" Tim began.

"In the old stories, knowing ones name held power. The Fae had certain influence over people. hey could manipulate their fate or actions. It was like selling your soul." he explained.

"Well I think she's can keep him." Tim stated.

"Miss Marinette seems to be changing Master Damian for the better." Alfred announced, suddenly, throwing them off guard.

"Me too!" Smiled Mar'i.

"Miss Marinette left treats inside for dinner." Alfred spoke, getting his great-granddaughter's hand and leading her in, "She spoke of a special package for Mrs. and Miss Grayson. Something containing mustard."

"Yay!" they cried as they rushed in.

"Looks like she has power over all of us." Jason whispered.

Dick gasped, suddenly.

"What?" Tim questioned.

"She's the next Alfred." he explained.

The boys froze before lowering their heads.

'We're doomed.'

@maribat-calendar-events

TAG LIST- DAMINETTE: @meme991001 @umbreon-worshipper @stainedglassm @jasmine-the-fox @psychicdelusionwerewolf @vixen-uchiha @mysteriouschar @missmadwoman @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @dissarraymania @tundra1029 @abrx2002 @mrsjacuinde @ledalasombra @animegirlweeb

UNSPECIFIED- @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @tigresslily @legodetectivemalsblog

[ashonheavenscloud]

five more minutes || h. jisung

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ contents: han jisung x reader, college au, established relationship, fluff, slightly suggestive, intense make out sesh, disgusting amounts of mutual simping

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ word count: 1.8K

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ warnings: tinyyy bit suggestive (this whole fic is just one really long kiss scene LMAO), one (1) hickey is given to reader

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n: repost from my old instagram under starryy.chan. this is like 2 and a half years old so i’m not sure how great the writing still is but i hope you enjoy regardless! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

now playing : whisper - park jiwoo

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

If a more perfect end of your day existed, you didn’t think you wanted it.

It had been meeting under that giant oak tree on campus, just to sneak a few kisses after your last classes of the day ended. Then Jisung had dragged you to a nearly secret bakery, hidden along the outskirts of the university campus, where the store owner had offered you a small box of macarons with the chocolate cheesecake you’d shared. You’d taken them snugly in their container back to Jisung’s apartment, where the treats had been devoured over a heated and exhilarating few rounds of uno. 

You’d decided on a simple dinner: a pizza (or maybe it was two) to share over loud discussion and banter, where he relentlessly teased you and you argued playfully back. With him, the rhythm of conversation flowed effortlessly- and over every possible topic you could explore. Because it was just that easy with him, just that natural. 

And Jisung had the unique ability to make you laugh with hardly any effort. What was even better was how much you knew he attempted to bring out your smile and loud giggles simply because he loved them. He never failed to tell you that, and it always left you a flustered mess. Which, of course, he also adored.

And after way too much teasing and silly banter and lame puns just to crack a smile, Jisung pulled you onto his lap. He hugged you close, sighing in content when you let your head fall onto his chest. His heartbeat in your ear, paired with the sound of his breathing, was so calming as you binged several episodes of a favourite show. Occasionally, the boy pressed a kiss to your forehead or around the crown of your head. You, in turn, laced your fingers through his and played with his various silver rings and admired the black polish on his nails.

Yes. Yes, you barely paid any attention to the TV. And could you be blamed, when every time you peeked at Jisung, you could see the pure love shining from his eyes as he looked back at you with that beautiful smile of his?

And after what had been nearly six hours together, it became apparent that the day would have to end at some point. You had early classes, and Jisung worked at 9 am, which meant the two of you needed to momentarily part ways. Jisung drove the short fifteen minutes to your place, before pausing in front of the building. Looking out the car window into the night, you felt a sad little pang to your heart.

“You have everything?” Jisung inquired, offering you your bag. You took the thin straps in one hand, nodding slowly before looking up at him.

Describing what Jisung meant to you was always hard. You knew you loved him, but it was more than that. You felt safe with him, and when you were around him all your worries seemed to melt away. Especially late at night, you hated to leave.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” You confessed, feeling a little silly. It wasn’t like you weren’t going to see him soon. After all, you went to the same university together and texted pretty much constantly. But for some reason, tonight it was even harder to step out of the car.

Jisung must have noticed, because he gently pulled the backpack from your grasp and replaced it with his hand. He slid his fingers to fit between yours, making your heart do all sorts of acrobatics in your chest. He slowly smiled at you, allowing his other hand to rest lightly on your thigh as he leaned closer to murmur,

“Let’s make it a long one then.”

He moved in to press his lips to yours, softly taking your lips in his. You responded instantly, inhaling as you moved your mouth to the rhythm Jisung set- a leisurely pace that sent your mind spiraling at his touch. His free hand found a stray piece of your hair to tuck behind your ear as he kissed the corner of your lips, then your cheek and jawline with several more slow pecks. You sighed in absolute content, eyes closing to focus on what you were feeling- the tickle of his breath on your skin before each press of his warm lips, the occasional touch of his tongue that made you shiver, the brush of his fingers as they wound around your neck to tangle into your hair.

Here you could sense the embers sparking to life in your veins as you pulled him in for another kiss. This one was firmer, more needy than before; you sucked on his bottom lip, hearing a low hum from his throat as he tugged lightly at your hair, bringing your face as close as possible to him. “I love you,” he whispered, and then again and again with every added press. Butterflies flew up your throat; his air was your only air- and the only air you felt you’d ever need or want again. 

Kissing Jisung was exhilarating. Like a drop on a rollercoaster played over and over; a stutter of your heart felt in the best kind of way.

Your fingertips landed lightly on his shoulder, before slowly bunching the fabric of his blue sweater. His kisses remained heated but came along slower; they savoured yours, each methodical roll of his tongue purposeful. He knew the best ways to rile you up- and luckily you knew his weaknesses, too. You allowed your hand to drop and brush along his forearm, dragging your fingers up his arm and around his neck. You felt him shiver at the same time you did, as his hand released yours to grasp your waist. In one swift motion Jisung pulled you over the seat to tumble onto his lap as his lips continued their abuse on your own. You responded with equal enthusiasm as you found a tight grasp on his dark locks and pulled harshly. He grunted and urged you closer, kissing you ravenously- you heard him pant out, “Y/n-”

You became acutely aware of the warmth of his thighs underneath you, the firm muscles of his chest pressed to yours, and every touch of his skin on yours. His teeth nibbling your bottom lip was more than enough to drive you near insanity, and his firm grip sliding over your hips did nothing to help that. You wanted absolutely no space between the two of you, nothing but him and you stuck together like glue. And it seemed Jisung had the same idea, as he wriggled his arms out of the sleeves of his sweater, the sleeveless white tee underneath already precarious over his shoulders. Your fingertips traced over his arms again- this time, you could feel the burning heat of his skin, the flexing of his biceps as his hold on your waist tightened, his breathing coming out unsteady. 

Through the fuzziness of your mind, you felt words you didn’t mean come from your parted lips. “Shouldn’t- shouldn’t we go?”

“No-” Jisung managed, kissing you like he might never have the chance again. His kisses trailed south, making you gasp as he found your throat and quickened his pace over your skin. And between each peck: “Five- more- minutes.”

As if you hadn’t been hoping he’d say that.

And any last whisper of a thought to go was buried once his lips found its place right under the curve of your jawline, a sensitive spot only Jisung knew about. You gasped as his teeth nipped at your skin, shooting fire through your veins as it left a mark. His hands gently rocked your hips over his, and you stuttered out a whine. Jisung’s murmurs- words completely  lost in your hazy state- were breathy and low, making you shiver as the warmth of his breath tickled your skin before his lips made contact along your neck again. Feather kisses fluttered across your collarbone, accompanied by his hands winding around your neck, thumb absentmindedly brushing your jawline. 

His words were whispered louder this time, and you finally heard them clearly. “ Let’s lose time, Princess.” He breathed as his lips touched your ear, and goosebumps erupted over your skin. They trailed along your jaw, before your mouths were locked again, and his words disappeared in favour of sloppy kisses.

Your mouth was captive to his, and content to remain so. His hands ran up and down your sides, fingers teasing the hem of your hoodie to skim his fingertips over your burning skin. It sent shivers across your body, and a soft breathy whine left your lips as your fingers found purchase in his locks again. Your brain was a jumbled mess, just every cell of your existence intent on Jisung, whose mouth worked wonders as he slid his tongue along your bottom lip, before diving in again.

You swore you could have spent hours just kissing him, bodies pressed together, air a distant and seemingly inessential thing at the moment. His hands teased you under your sweatshirt, while his lips continued their breathtaking work with yours. You felt on fire, heat simmering over every inch of your skin and burning where his lips touched you. At last, some sense seemed to come back to the both of you, and Jisung’s kisses slowed to softer, slower movements.

“Princess?” He murmured against your lips at last, and you knew that it really was time for the two of you to go.

You pulled away, breathing heavily as your eyes refocused onto Jisung in front of you. He was also panting, eyes looking back at you. For a minute you were both still; then Jisung’s hands dropped to find yours, fingers tangling between your own.

“Did you know I love you?” He whispered- like it was a promise, a secret  just for the two of you. And it only mattered that you knew it.

You ducked your head to plant a soft kiss to his swollen lips, feeling him grin into the kiss when you did. You lingered close when you leaned back, noses nearly touching, his breath tickling your face. “I think you’ve told me.”

His eyes flickered to yours, and the adoration in them made your breath catch. 

“I love you, Ji.” You whispered, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. You watched him slowly smile- the kind of smile that had you feeling something far beyond happy- before resting your head on his shoulder.

His arms wound around your waist, fingertips gently drawing circles over your back. It was silent and peaceful for a moment before Jisung spoke again.

“We really should go-”

You shushed him with a quick kiss before collapsing against his chest again. “Five more minutes.”

Jisung laughed softly, and when his grip on you tightened and his head fell against yours, you knew you’d won him over.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

stray kids masterlist

navigation

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Jack Howl - Apprentice Chef Voice Lines

Summon Line: I'll make it so that I can make any kind of dish perfectly. It's never a bad thing to get better at cooking.

Groooovy!!: Woah, that one actually came out pretty good. I gotta do it again before I forget how I did it.

Home: I'm getting pumped!

Home Idle 1: These macarons... They're just tiny little pastries, but they take a lot of hard work. I guess I shouldn't just finish them off in one bite without a care anymore.

Home Idle 2: Apparently, there's a new kind of confection at the Mystery Shop. I heard about it from Ace. He's always up to speed when it comes to this sort of thing, huh.

Home Idle 3: I get a little nervous whenever Ruggie-senpai asks me about my cactus. Maybe it's because I learned that some places eat them...

Home Idle - Login: I mean, I've only ever helped out back home, so I don't have much experience, but I'm sure I'll get better if I just do my best. Putting in the effort has never failed me yet!

Home Idle - Groovy: Oh, doesn't it look like it's baked pretty well this time? [sniff, sniff] You smell that? I bet it's delicious!

Home Tap 1: The best time to replenish any lost carbohydrates from exercise is right after your training finishes. Eating a sweet compote will really help that exhaustion melt away.

Home Tap 2: The cafeteria's soup has way too much onions in it... I somehow gulped it all down, but the smell really messed with my nose.

Home Tap 3: Stick it in the oven and wait 5 minutes... I hate wasting time doing nothing. Guess I'll put away the cooking supplies.

Home Tap 4: I bet making the meringue can be a great way to train. I'll just use a whisk and... Hraaaaaah!

Home Tap 5: Urgh, too much batter came out. I keep messing up the amount of force I need to use. This piping bag is hard to use.

Home Tap - Groovy: Was it good? There's still some left over, so eat as much as you like! D-Don't read anything into it, or anything. I just made too much, so it's just what's leftover.

Requested by @sakurakudo.

[misc-obeyme]

Worth It: Part Two

I cannot believe the response part one of this lil macaron fic got. You guys inspired me to write the smutty part two, so here it is. I am not thinking about parts three and four already. Absolutely not, that is not a thing that you just read. Honestly though I could keep going but will I? That's the real question. I do love them, so it's a maybe at the moment lol. Once again tagging @lonely-north-star as requested and also @silverrings-n-prettythings because I saw your tags on the last part lol.

Mammon x Barbatos - read part one here!

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: It's all smut!!! Okay okay but seriously, oral and biting and making out and a lil bit of hair pulling... who's giving to who? I'm not telling, you'll just have to read it to find out mwahaha.

The minute the door to Barbatos’s bedroom closed, Mammon found himself pressed up against the wall. He gasped as he felt warm lips on his neck. The bedroom was dim and Mammon couldn’t see much of anything but odd shapes. It didn’t matter. He was focused entirely on the hands that were gripping his waist.

“What task did you abandon to come here?” Barbatos asked against his skin. His voice was low and heavy, rumbling through Mammon’s veins.

Mammon pulled in a breath. “Devildom Law,” he managed to say.

Barbatos chuckled. “I see,” he said. “Too dull?”

Mammon let his head fall against the wall behind him. “Why do they gotta make us write reports?”

Barbatos hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps you simply need better motivation.”

Mammon was about to protest, but he gasped instead when Barbatos bit down on his neck. His already flushed face seemed to get hotter, if that was at all possible. More importantly, he was hard as a rock and he was both excited and nervous for Barbatos to notice.

Barbatos pressed his leg between Mammon’s thighs. Mammon grabbed his arms, fingernails digging into the exposed skin, as he tried to bite back a moan.

Barbatos paused in his movements, suddenly going quite still.

Mammon tried to gulp down air for a moment, feeling like he was going to overheat.

“You should return home and finish your report,” Barbatos said, his voice mild.

Mammon whined for a moment before swallowing the sound down. “Ya wouldn’t really do that to me, would ya?”

Barbatos traced Mammon’s jaw with his fingers. “Hmm. We both know what will happen if you fail Devildom Law again.”

Mammon shuddered involuntarily. Lucifer had been especially angry with him about it last time and made quite a few threats.

“I ain’t gonna fail again,” Mammon said.

Barbatos met his eyes and Mammon saw a soft, indulgent expression there. “You must promise me.”

Mammon flushed. Barbatos still had his leg softly pressing between Mammon’s thighs and the pressure was making him crazy. He would promise anything in that moment. “I promise,” he said.

“So quick to agree,” Barbatos said, amusement laced in his voice. “Do you wish for no reward in return?”

Mammon frowned at him. “What kinda reward?”

“If you like, you can consider this a preview,” Barbatos said, pressing up just a little.

Mammon gasped. He’d had enough teasing. He couldn’t take it anymore and he suddenly didn’t care if Barbatos knew how needy he was.

Mammon tightened his grip on Barbatos’s arms and turned with him so that their positions were reversed. Now Barbatos was pressed against the wall, though his expression remained one of amusement.

Mammon slid his hands down to Barbatos’s hips and pressed himself against Barbatos’s body, meeting his lips in a deep kiss that left no question of how he was feeling.

Barbatos responded easily, opening his mouth and meeting Mammon’s tongue with just as much intensity. He pulled Mammon closer by the nape of his neck before allowing his hand to push up into Mammon’s hair. He gripped and pulled Mammon’s head back, breaking the kiss just so he could run his tongue up Mammon’s throat.

Mammon sucked in large breaths, panting. “You’re makin’ me crazy,” he managed to say. “You’re doin’ it on purpose, too, ain’t ya?”

Barbatos pushed gently on Mammon’s chest, making him walk backwards for a bit. In the darkness of the room, Mammon had no idea where he was going, so he could only trust Barbatos to direct him.

When the bed hit the back of Mammon’s knees, he let himself fall onto it easily. Barbatos was on top of him in an instant, lips by Mammon’s ear.

“You have been making me crazy for too long already,” Barbatos said, his hand running up Mammon’s thigh. “Don’t you think it’s only fair that I return the favor?”

Mammon groaned as Barbatos’s fingers ghosted over his still clothed but painfully erect cock. “Whaddaya want me to do? Beg?”

Barbatos chuckled. “While I wouldn’t say it’s required, I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

Mammon gripped Barbatos’s biceps hard. “Barbatos,” he said, his voice gone high into a whine. “Please.”

He was thrilled to see the way a blush bloomed on Barbatos’s cheeks. Finally, he had flustered this stoic demon a little bit.

But Barbatos didn’t say anything. He ran one hand down Mammon’s chest and pulled open Mammon’s belt with the other hand.

Mammon squirmed beneath him in anticipation, nerves and impatience both bubbling up in him.

Barbatos freed Mammon’s cock from his clothes and Mammon bit his lip in an attempt to stay quiet as Barbatos touched him.

Barbatos glanced up at him. “You needn’t hold back,” he said. “No one will hear you.”

Mammon met his eyes. His senses were dulled from need and his guard was down. Quietly, he said, “You will.”

Barbatos tilted his head at this. “Is that a problem?”

Mammon covered his face with his hands. “It’s embarrassin’!”

Barbatos laughed softly. “I disagree. To be clear, I would love nothing more than to listen to you moan.”

Mammon was about to protest, but he found himself unable to speak as Barbatos put the tip of his cock in his mouth.

Mammon's hands flew into Barbatos’s hair, gripping and releasing as he tried not to pull too hard on it. But he was so overwhelmed by sensation as Barbatos proved to be an absolute master with his tongue that Mammon was finding it increasingly difficult to pay attention to what his hands were doing.

All concerns he had about being embarrassed flew out the window when Barbatos took the full length of his cock into his mouth.

Mammon arched his back and moaned. He had to cover his face with his arm because it was too much. He was sure Barbatos was too busy to notice anyway.

Mammon knew the second Barbatos lifted his mouth away that he had miscalculated. He should have known that Barbatos noticed everything.

And indeed, he felt a hand grip his arm and pull it down gently from his face.

Barbatos was looking down at him with a soft smile. “Please don’t cover your face,” he said.

Mammon couldn’t reply, only blushing more and wishing he could go back to covering his face.

Barbatos pulled on his arm again, making him sit up on the edge of the bed.

To Mammon’s great astonishment, Barbatos knelt between his knees and looked up at him. Barbatos reached up to cup Mammon’s cheek.

“I like to see you,” Barbatos said simply.

And then Mammon’s cock was back in his mouth and Mammon had to hold onto Barbatos’s shoulders for dear life. He moaned again and leaned forward, his hands spasming and twisting Barbatos’s shirt.

Barbatos looked up at Mammon’s red face through his bangs and when Mammon met his eyes, he almost came on the spot. He was overwhelmed by seeing his own desire reflected there.

The pleasure built as Barbatos concentrated on his task, his mouth tight and hot and wet, his tongue pulling the sensations from Mammon. He tried not to buck up his hips in response, but it was difficult.

Barbatos didn’t seem to mind and he never broke his pace, no matter how much Mammon moved and squirmed and moaned.

Mammon twisted his fingers harder into Barbatos’s shirt as he felt himself reaching the edge. He suddenly couldn’t stay quiet even if he wanted to.

“Ah,” he panted out. “B-Barbatos-! Ahh, I’m- it’s- I can’t-!”

Barbatos did not stop, did not slacken his pace, only continued on until Mammon was babbling incoherently. He couldn’t form words anymore, only letting out a cry as he came, his hips lifting involuntarily.

Mammon bent over Barbatos’s head, panting, his hands moving from Barbatos’s shoulders to his face.

Barbatos looked up at him and Mammon pulled him up just enough to kiss him. He could taste the salt of his own cum on Barbatos’s tongue. He bit down on Barbatos’s bottom lip, needing to taste more of himself.

Barbatos indulged him for a moment until he pulled away, leaving Mammon feeling empty and almost cold.

Mammon let out a low whine.

Barbatos chuckled. “You are quite needy, aren’t you?”

Mammon blushed and frowned. “L-like ya didn’t know that already…”

“Indeed, I have always been aware of your personality,” Barbatos said. He reached up and ran his knuckles down Mammon’s cheek. “You are greedy, as am I.”

Mammon stared at him in surprise for a moment.

But then Barbatos got to his feet and pulled Mammon up to his. Mammon nearly tripped as his pants were still halfway down, but Barbatos kept him upright. He yanked Mammon’s pants back up, even buckling Mammon’s belt for him.

“What-?” Mammon said.

“You must return to the House of Lamentation now,” Barbatos said. “I do believe you left a report unfinished.”

Mammon grabbed Barbatos’s hands. “But what about you?”

Barbatos smiled at him. “We will have plenty of time to continue when your report is done. Is that not enough motivation to complete it quickly?”

Mammon glared at him. “You’re messin’ with me, aren’t ya?”

Barbatos pretended to look offended. “I am merely looking out for you, Mammon. After all, if Lucifer follows through on his threats, I fear you would have to spend quite a bit of time recovering. You would be unavailable for… other activities.”

Mammon huffed. He stepped closer to Barbatos, leaning in to nibble at his ear for a moment before saying in a low voice, “I know ya think it’s fun to tease me like this, but ya better be prepared for what I’m gonna do when I’m done with that report.”

To Mammon’s immense satisfaction, Barbatos shivered ever so slightly. He straightened Mammon’s jacket. “Please finish your work quickly.”

Mammon practically ran home. Every single one of his brothers was confused about the way he locked himself in his room to work on his Devildom Law report. They speculated among themselves if maybe he was sick. Only Lucifer seemed unconcerned.

worth it part one | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[flightfoot]

I'm so glad you love Kira Kira so much!!! It's such an underrated season ahhhh. The only thing keeping it from my own top spot is the treatment of Rio. He's my favorite precure character of all time and I simply can't let it slide T-T

Oooh yes it's so good! Like, it has the most well-constructed character arcs for each of the cures of any season, most are more lopsided.

Like with Ichika! She loves making sweets, but she's not very good at it at first. She's not a lethal chef or anything, she just isn't very experienced and doesn't know a lot. I loved watching her slowly work together with her friends to learn how to bake. It's not like some instant thing, you just notice her slow improvement throughout the season.

She does have something she's naturally gifted at, and that's decoration! She's really good at decorating treats in a way that will bring joy to the person who receives them, to the point that Ciel, a baking prodigy, actually learns from her in that regard.

Himari's arguably the most blatantly autistic cure there's ever been, and that's saying a lot. She loves baking and is an expert on the chemistry of it. Unfortunately, she's been discouraged from sharing her passion in the past, since her classmates got bored with her infodumping about the subject. I love her character arc about learning to come out of her shell and finding a way to use her infodumping tendencies for good by finding a receptive audience who enjoys being taught by her!

Aoi has my favorite character arc of the Cures. I love how she was inspired by her idol to become a musician and rock out with her bandmates, and how she's going against what's expected of her because, surprisingly enough, she's the heir to a wealthy family. She doesn't have any interest in running the corporation though. I loved her finding her voice and standing up for what she wants to do!

Cure Chocolat has one of the prettiest designs in Pretty Cure, in my opinion! Akira's character arc has some weaknesses, but it's still compelling. She's got a sick little sister she's protective of, and she tends to put too much on herself. I didn't really like that the show emphasized those self-sacrificial qualities - seriously she's gonna burn out at some point - but otherwise she's great!

She also has one of the most blatant queer relationships in the show. Like Kira Kira never SAYS that Akira and Yukari are a couple, but it sure hints at it.

There's never been a Pretty Cure character quite like Yukari. Even Yui, who's also a cat, is pretty different from her. Like she has this thing going on where she's good at everything instantly and it gets boring, which is why macarons interested her - she actually FAILED the first several times and had to work at making those to make them good.

I don't even really know how to describe her, she's so catlike. I don't think she actually changes a lot like the others do, you just see more facets of her. I love how easily she's able to act and fool villains, making them think they have the upper hand when she's actually playing them like a fiddle.

So her starting off as this haughty, slightly conceited prodigy who didn't think much of Ichika's merely alright pastries (given that she's world famous and has trained under the fanciest bakers in Paris), but slowly grows to see that even if Ichika's actual pastries are lackluster, they have a lot of heart, a lot of Kira Kira in them, and trying to figure out why that is. Her whole breakdown when she realizes how she just... didn't see what Pikario was going through, why he freaked out and ran away, and how he was then infected with evil and taken advantage of and STILL refused to talk to her even after being purified... she became a lot better at reading people as the season went on. I really love how she reached out to Biburi especially. She might not have been able to do much to save her brother, but she can help her at least.

On the bright side, at least Pikario got to be the first guy to have a claim to being a precure? Even if it was just a temporary power-up and he didn't get a Cure name, he was still first on that.

Pikario's the second-best Heel-Face Turn character I've seen in Precure (sorry Pikario, but Setsuna takes the top spot). I love how understandable his motives are. He and his sister went to Paris to learn how to be bakers together, but she's improving by leaps and bounds while he's being left behind and is becoming more and more frustrated, and she's rarely even around anymore. And then the last straw, when he makes the waffles she complimented so highly before, only for her to tell him they weren't as good as the ones from before... it was honest, but no wonder he snapped.

I love that he and his sister still had things to work out afterwards and that all his problems weren't instantly solved once he was freed of the brainwashing, the underlying problems that caused him to be vulnerable still had to actually be fixed first.

He definitely got cheated, he was one of the most interesting characters in the season (and the franchise, honesty), but he was put in a coma for a substantial portion of the show and didn't get to join the team permanently. But what WAS there still makes him a top-tier character.

---

I adore these characters so much, Kira Kira is SO underrated it's criminal.

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Empty Stomach | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi! This one's for my fellow ED sufferers. I mean, it's for everyone. But like, it's dedicated to those with past or current ED issues. That being said, do not read this if it is going to upset and / or trigger you. I will not be offended. Scroll on by if need be, catch ya next time. No worries, take care of ya mental health. Much love. ✌️💕

WARNINGS: Discussion of past eating disorder (bulimia), vomit, illness

The chill of the tile pushed its way through the fabric of your pajama pants. With your knees pulled into your chest, you sat hunched over on the bathroom floor. Back resting against the wall. Blanket draped over your shoulders. An unopened bottle of Gatorade rested next to you, along with a bottle of water you’d failed to drink.

The time read 3:48am. Three hours of nothing but misery passed surprisingly fast, you thought. It was just after midnight when a strong wave of nausea pummeled into you and forced you from your bed. And since that moment, you found yourself lurching over the toilet every twenty minutes. 

Last night’s lasagna and red wine came up almost violently. And the tiramisu you’d eaten for dessert didn’t taste nearly as good the second time around. Round after round of painful retching disgusted you, made you cringe. Seeing your food make a second appearance only multiplied your already severe nausea. And with the way your night was going, you feared you’d never be able to enjoy Italian again. 

The back of your throat grew scorched with stomach acid. Your nose burned. And the turbulence in your stomach refused to quit. Eventually, your body eliminated your dinner completely. It was gone, flushed away. And you thought you might be done with this whole nightmare. You even ventured back to bed. 

But only minutes after warming the cold sheets with your body heat, you found yourself on the bathroom floor once again. With a vengeance, bile burned its way up your esophagus and forced itself out of your mouth. It seemed to you that this was your punishment for going back to bed. And so, you decided to take up residency in the bathroom for the rest of the night. 

But you needed a blanket- desperately. It just so happened that this misery decided to take place on one of the coldest nights of the year. And if you were to survive till morning, you needed a small piece of comfort. You mustered enough strength to fetch a blanket- Bucky’s favorite blanket- from your bedroom and drag it back to the bathroom. It was sad. Pathetic, even. But holding the soft, woven fabric that smelled like him tight around your shoulders brought a sliver of ease. It wasn’t nearly as good as having Bucky there, but it was better than nothing.

Tik Toks and YouTube videos helped you pass the time between each bout of heaving. You watched every video recommended to you- as long as it didn’t involve food. Just the thought of watching Rhett and Link eat carne asada pizza or Rosanna Pansino make Macha macarons was enough to turn your stomach. Again. 

The throbbing in your head, no doubt a side effect of dehydration, pulled you from the bathroom floor and into the kitchen. You needed water. Electrolytes. And you swore you’d apologize to Bucky for stealing a bottle of his Riptide Rush Gatorade. Not that he’d ever care; he would’ve given you his right arm if you asked for it. 

When you finally settled back onto the bathroom floor with an arm full of drinks, you let yourself feel the sadness that came up with each rush of Vomit. You were too nauseated to drink any of the fluids you sought out. And more than anything, you wished Bucky was with you. Every night that he didn’t spend at your place felt like a night wasted. Without him, your apartment simply wasn’t the same. It wasn’t as comfy or as homey. Didn’t feel as safe. Something was missing. 

Part of you was glad he wasn’t there to see your lasagna resurface, though. It was utterly vile and would surely embarrass you if he were witness. But you missed him all the same. 

Between the violent retching and the bitter cold of late December, every cell in your body trembled. You were weak, cold, miserable. And very, very alone. If Bucky were with you, you knew he’d take care of you. He’d keep you company while your food rebelled against your body. He’d keep you warm. And he’d put a smile on your face, no matter how impossible it seemed.

Ever since you grew close with Bucky, you were there for each other. Took care of each other. It was a given, an unspoken agreement. You wanted to be the other’s support system. The one in their corner. Bucky never felt so safe with anyone, and you returned the sentiment.

He often needed stitches after a mission or talking down after a nightmare, and you were always there. No questions asked. You closed his wounds and held his hand. You pulled him as his body vibrated with panic. Comforting him was a no-brainer. And just as you were there for him, he was there for you. Whether the flu made you cough up a lung or a clumsy step left your ankle twisted, he had your back. He took care of you when you had an allergic reaction to truffle oil and brought you comfort when strep throat stole your voice. 

You treated each other with the utmost care, the deepest affections. You each sat atop the other’s list of priorities, never leaving the number one spot. And by the time you started dating, you could practically read the other’s mind. When he needed you, you were by his side. And when you needed him, he was there. 

But not tonight; tonight, he was at the compound. He’d had a long day of meetings about the Flag Smashers and John Walker that kept him trapped in a conference room for hours. He hoped that with the early start time that morning, he’d be out by dinner. He wanted to return home and snuggle up on the couch with you in his arms. But as 9pm rolled around, his hopes of making it back to you in a timely manner died. 

At 10pm, Rhodey called it. Everyone was tired. Bored. Utterly fried. He dismissed the meeting- with the caveat that they’d reconvene early the next morning. And Bucky wasn’t happy. He dug his phone out of his pocket and gave you a call, voicing his distaste for the seemingly eternal meeting.

“I’m so sorry, doll, it ran long. Really long,” he’d said. “But I’m gonna head your way in a minute, okay? I should be back by…” he looked at his watch and stifled a yawn, “by elevenish.”

“Maybe you should just stay there tonight, Buck. You were up at five this morning- you sound sleepy.”

Bucky shook his head, even though you couldn’t see him. “No, no- I don’t wanna stay here. I wanna come be with you, sweetheart.”

“I’d rather be with you too, but it’s just one night,” you’d told him. “I know you’re exhausted, and I don’t want you driving back if you’re tired. It’s not a good idea. Just sleep there and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Bucky sighed. “I just miss you, that’s all. I didn’t get to talk to you all day and now I can’t see you till tomorrow.” All he ever wanted was to be with you.

 “If it weren’t such a long drive, it would be different, babe. But forty minutes of driving with a fried brain doesn’t sound safe.” You crawled into your empty bed and found yourself rolling onto Bucky’s side. The sheets smelled just like him; if you closed your eyes, you could’ve sworn he was home. “I miss you, too. But I’d rather you rest and come home tomorrow in one piece.”

From Bucky’s end of the line, you heard him step into the elevator and press the button for his old floor. “I know, I know. You’re right,” he conceded. “I really am beat. Something about going over the same details a thousand times took it out of me.” He leaned against the elevator wall and let out another yawn, “I’m gonna go to sleep, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay? I love you. So much.”

“Okay, Buck. I love you, baby”.

You hung up the phone, knowing damn well you wouldn’t get much shut eye. Being with Bucky every night always lulled you right to sleep. It was so easy to find peace in his arms that rest never evaded you. But without him, things were different. Your mind wandered. The bed was never as cozy. You stole a book from his bedside table and cracked it open, hoping to tire yourself out. 

After two hours of reading, the nausea hit. Your mouth flooded with saliva and your heart rate jumped. You hadn’t relaxed since.

As you changed position, desperate to find a way to be comfortable on the tile, you wished you lived closer to the compound. If it were a five minute drive from your place, Bucky would've been by your side the second the meeting ended; it was where he belonged. But he couldn't come home- not tonight. And while you were glad he made the safe choice, you wished he was just right down the road.

Bucky spent every night at your place, save for when he was on missions. It was his home, just as much as it was yours. He kept all his clothes there and most of his things. He helped with all the household duties. He even fixed the faulty latches on your windows so that they no longer allowed the cold winter air to seep in. 

But even after all that, he always knocked.

To him, it seemed like the least he could do. It didn’t feel quite right, barging into your apartment as though he owned the place. Sure, he basically lived there. But you didn’t make him help with rent- no matter how many times he offered. You knew he didn’t have much regarding monetary wealth. And his job didn’t exactly pay a salary. So, you never asked for his share of the monthly dues. It didn’t even cross your mind; you were just happy to have him there with you. 

It was kind of you, Bucky had no doubt about that. But it didn’t feel fair. So, he saved the key you gave him and swore to use it for emergencies only. He opted, instead, to knock and wait for an invitation inside. ‘Like a vampire’, you always joked. 

You checked the time once again- 4:01am. This was agony. And in your exhausted state, you found yourself missing Bucky more than usual. With the energy drained from your body, your emotions had room to grow in size. And the feeling that grew the biggest was your longing for him. Here you were, in your most vulnerable state, without the love of your life. He was almost an hour away, incapable of bringing you comfort in your time of need. 

And while spending one night apart wasn’t the end of the world, it surely wasn’t ideal- especially when you felt like death. 

But as you thought about how different things would be with Bucky there, you realized: even if he was home, you wouldn’t have woken him. Sleep often evaded him; and back before he found you, he never got more than an hour of uninterrupted rest at once. But with your help, he was getting better. He was sleeping more and waking up screaming less. Sure, it was a slow process, but there was hope for him. 

And so, waking him for something as innocuous as food poisoning simply wouldn’t be right. If this were an emergency, things would be different. But if he lay sleeping in the next room while you puked up bad lasagna, who were you to wake him?

Knowing that he was home would’ve made your situation a touch more bearable, though. It would’ve been enough to bring you comfort. Even having the option to crawl into bed next to him or feel his hand in yours would ease some of the misery, even if you couldn’t leave the bathroom long enough to do so. 

Miserable, you shot a quick text to Bucky:

Been puking my guts out all night :(

The intention behind the message wasn’t to upset him when he read it the next morning. Or to make him feel bad for not coming home to you. You just wanted to complain, to vent some of your negative feelings. And only for a second. It wasn’t often that you felt sorry for yourself, especially not when you knew how much Bucky suffered. But this was a moment of weakness. And now matter the horrors Bucky went through, he always listened.

Your forehead fell against your knees and your chin rested on your chest. A deep sigh filled your lungs. God, you were tired. Utterly spent. Voiding your body so aggressively drained every ounce of your energy. 

You missed your bed. Missed resting in Bucky’s arms and listening to his heartbeat as you laid on his chest. You needed a respite, a quick break from the misery. With a yawn, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut and your phone to slip from your hands. And for the first time that night, you actually drifted off to sleep.

But a persistent thudding noise pulled you awake half an hour later. It roused you from the rest your body so desperately needed, and just as you wondered what caused it, saliva rushed into your mouth. You ditched your blanket and knelt forward just in time for more acidic bile to push past your lips. It burned inside your nose and made your eyes water, but the sound of your front door opening pulled your focus. 

“Baby?” Bucky shouted from down the hall.

A reply sat on the tip of your tongue- but drowned in another wash of vomit. 

The heaving, retching sounds coming from the bathroom sent a rush of anxiety through Bucky’s system. He fled in your direction and burst through your bathroom door as his heart hammered against his ribs.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he knelt by your side and took in the scene before him as you caught your breath. You, his best girl, getting sick. Very sick. He clocked the blanket on the floor, your dead phone- you must’ve been in here a while. “Hey, what’s going on, doll?” His tone was soft and his words gentle. But the worry in his voice was unmistakable.

It took a few long moments for you to recover. “I got food poisoning from the Italian place on 9th,” you rested once more against the wall. “I ordered take out for dinner and it was clearly a mistake.” Just the thought was enough to make you sick again, but you powered through.

“Oh…” A sigh of relief left Bucky’s chest. “Oh, I thought you were-” he didn’t finish his sentence. But his shoulders relaxed and the tension in his brow dissipated. He wrapped the blanket around you and pulled you gently into his side. 

“What, Buck?”

“Nothing, doll. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.” He cracked open your Gatorade and offered it to you, “can you drink some of this for me? We need to make sure you stay hydrated.” 

Something lingered under Bucky’s words. And though your mind was a bit foggy from the exhaustion, you put two and two together. “Oh, you thought… you thought I relapsed?” 

Bucky nodded.  

Back when you’d only been dating for about a month, you decided to be honest with Bucky. He was truthful with you about his past and the PTSD that followed; it wasn’t fair of you to keep things from him. And so, you opened up to him about your past issues with food. With your body image. The way you used to force yourself to vomit until there was nothing left. Or until you tasted blood. He knew all about your struggle to recover and the way that, sometimes, those dark thoughts still tempted you to void your system. 

He listened and expressed admiration for your perseverance. He told you he was proud of you. He was so happy that, every day, you chose recovery. He kept an eye on you after you told him, watching for any signs of distress. But you’d done so well. You kept the promise you made to yourself. And just a few weeks ago, when the two-year anniversary of your last forced purge passed, he spent the day showering you in praise and congratulations.

“I know you’ve been doing really well- I didn’t mean to assume anything. But I saw your text-”

You frowned, more worried for him than yourself. "Why were you awake?"

“Couldn't sleep," he said. "And when I tried to call, you didn’t answer.” He felt another surge of anxiety flood his system, “I got nervous. I needed to come check on you.”

Your lack of energy kept you from climbing into his lap or throwing your arms around his neck. Instead, you nuzzled closer to him. Let your head rest on his chest. It was all you could manage. “Buck, you’re so- I didn’t mean to scare you, babe. Probably should’ve given you some context. My bad.”

He shook his head, “no, don’t worry about it, doll. I would’ve come anyway- you’re not feeling well, I couldn’t let you be here all by yourself.” He pulled you a bit closer, “I’m just glad you’re okay. Well, not ‘okay’ cause obviously, you’re sick. But I’m happy you’re not that kind of sick.”

Bucky once again offered you the bottle of Gatorade, which you finally accepted. A few small sips rinsed most of the lingering vomit taste from your mouth. “You weren’t supposed to drive…” you said after a while.

“I know. But you’re sick.” He prompted you to keep drinking. “And if you were, um…” he didn’t like saying the word.

“Relapsing.”

He nodded. “If that was happening, I thought you might need me.” Truth be told, he would’ve done anything for you. Killed for you. Died for you. He’d burn the world and everyone in it- all for you. 

“That’s an understatement,” you gave a weak laugh. Your raw throat throbbed. “But we agreed you wouldn’t drive, Buck. You were supposed to sleep.”

He shrugged, “I couldn’t. Turns out I’ve grown accustomed to sharing a bed with you. Can’t sleep if I don’t have ya with me, sweetheart.”

It was sweet, yes, but struck a nerve. “Wait, so… you don’t sleep on missions?”

He shook his head.

“Buuuuuuck-”

“I know, I know. But I try- I always try. I swear. It just doesn’t work.”

With that, you found yourself lurching forward once again. Your eyes watered and tears ran down your cheeks. A painful force pushed out what little remained in your system. 

“Wow, you have really strong feelings about me not sleeping.”

At his stupid joke, a small laugh rumbled out of your chest- followed by more vomit. Coughs and sputters rattled out of your chest. Saliva dripped from your chin.

And though you knew you weren't done with this bout of retching, you wouldn't let him off the hook. "You need rest, Buck. And if you haven't slept, you shouldn't drive. It's not-" A flood of bile interrupted you.

“Okay, alright. I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart. But we can talk about it later,” he said, easing a hand up and down your spine. “Just let me take care of you for now, okay?”

And he did. No matter how many times your body violently emptied, Bucky had your back. He kept you hydrated, even when you didn’t want to be. And held you close between bouts of heaving. He kept you company. Kept your spirits high, regardless of how awful you felt. And no matter how tired he was, he stayed awake with you. He freed himself from the clutches of exhaustion and kept only you in focus, never allowing sleep to win. He wouldn’t rest- not until you did.

Every few minutes, he checked his watch. Timing the space between each instance of nausea helped him anticipate your movements. Your needs. And just like you said, they attacked every twenty minutes.

“I’m really happy you’re here,” you muttered, your head resting in his lap. Your eyelids fluttered and your words came out soft, breathy. “Even though you weren’t supposed to drive… I’m happy you made it home.”

Bucky ghosted a finger across your cheek, “So am I, doll.” 

Your eyes were fully closed now, and you’d fallen silent. Bucky hoped you’d finally been able to fall asleep. And then, out of nowhere, you spoke, “And you used your key.” Though opening your eyes was too much work, a warm, satisfied smile pulled at your lips. 

Bucky, too, smiled. “I did,” he said. “Had to. Needed to get to you.”

A happy hum left your chest and you nuzzled against Bucky’s thigh. “Thank you… Love you, Barnes.”

“Love you, baby.”

And finally, you were out. Bucky kept his eye on the time. Twenty minutes passed. Then forty. And when an hour went by without you stirring, Bucky sighed with relief. “I’m taking you to bed…” he whispered, though he knew you couldn’t hear him. He snaked his arms around you with the utmost care and lifted you from the cold tile floor. He held you close to his body, almost as though he were shielding you from something. 

“Thank god it’s only food poisoning,” he whispered in the quiet of your apartment. He remembered the pure dread than sunk in his stomach the moment he read your text. Your words painted a vision in his mind, a horrible picture of you forcing nutrients out of your system. He shook his head at the thought. “I was really scared for you tonight.”

He placed you on your side of the bed and wrapped the covers around you, protecting you from the biting winter air. A quick double back to the bathroom allowed Bucky to retrieve your water and Gatorade, and a trip to the kitchen supplied you with extra. Just in case you needed more.

And when everything was set just so, he stripped out of his clothes and finally climbed into bed. “See? Knew I should’ve just come home, doll.” This was all he wanted all day. He got himself settled under the covers and molded his body to yours. He was supposed to be here- right here- next to you. At all times. It was better for you, better for him. 

Peace settled over your bedroom and Bucky felt exhaustion pulling him under- until an alarm sounded in his head. He quickly scrounged around in the dark for his phone and, against his will, removed himself from the bed. He was so close to getting some rest, to spending the night tucked closely next to his best girl- but of course, something had to get in his way.

 He scrolled through his contacts with a sigh and found the name he needed before pressing call. James Rhodes didn’t particularly like Bucky. And definitely wasn’t happy that his least favorite person decided to call in the wee hours of the early morning. But the least Bucky could do was give him a heads up. 

“I’m not coming in tomorrow. My girl’s really sick and I need to be with her.”

Rhodes couldn’t believe Bucky called him so late- or, early- to give him such inconsequential news. “Um, okay. That sucks, I hope she feels better. But people get sick, Barnes. She’ll be okay. I still expect you to attend tomorrow-”

“No, I’m not leaving her here by herself. That’s final.”

Rhodes tried to form a rebuttal, but Bucky ended the call. He even shut off his phone for good measure. 

“Sorry about that, sweetheart…” he whispered, climbing back into bed. “But I’m all yours tomorrow. Well, let’s be honest, I’m all yours for the rest of time. But you know what I mean.”

Once again, he wriggled under the covers and snuggled close to you. You didn’t move when the bed dipped under his weight, nor did you stir when he curled around you. He knew you were so depleted, so spent that you wouldn’t wake until noon- if then. 

“I’m so glad you texted me,” he whispered into the dark. He let a hand trail up and down your arm, pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “And I’m so- I’m so glad you’re alright.” He fidgeted and maneuvered himself, wishing he could scoot closer to you. But every surface of his body was already pressed to yours; he big-spooned you so intensely that not even a millimeter-sized gap remained. Still, he wasn’t close enough. He wasn’t sure he ever would be.

“But even if you weren’t- if you actually had um… if you-” he swallowed hard, “if you relapsed, I’d be here. I always will be- through all of it. No matter what happens. I don’t care how far away I am, I’ll find a way to get to you. I promise.” 

With his promise spoken, a weight lifted from Bucky’s shoulders. He didn’t like thinking about you getting sick again, about your mind sabotaging your body like that. He knew it was possible, though. His own mental health hadn’t always been stellar, and he knew how easy it was to slip into the darkness. But the last time you battled your demons, you were alone. You kept your struggle a secret and didn’t bother resisting the downward spiral.

Bucky hoped that having him would make things easier if you ever did fall down that slippery slope once again. Not that being in a relationship could save your mental health- he knew well enough that that wasn’t possible.

He just thought that having someone by your side- someone who loved and supported you without judgement- would give you the strength you needed if the monsters ever came calling again. It certainly worked for him. Allowing you into his life kept him from the precipice on more than one occasion; he just hoped to do the same for you, if need be.

He knew you trusted him exactly the way he trusted you, and it granted him solace. He knew that if, heaven forbid, things ever got bad for you again, you’d let him help you. You’d be truthful with him about your struggles. You'd lean on him, go to him for support. Knowing that you had a safety net allowed him to breathe easier. And finally, after over twenty-four hours spent awake, Bucky fell into a deep sleep.

—————————————

Taglist: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality  @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony  @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl  @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot  @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie  @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine  @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather  @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo

[c0zyrainfall]

I was thinking about it, and I started wondering what exactly is so appealing about damianya.

Twiyor is equally well written, I think, but I actually prefer the former (though I love both!). That's just because of preference and my appreciation for enemies to lovers. HOWEVER I have decided to draft up an analysis pinpointing why damianya is so enticing, because I write my own original material, and I think you can gain a lot of valuable insight by reverse engineering good writing.

First of all: What is the definition of a good romantic relationship?

I will use the following guidelines:

1) Based off of genuine friendship

2) Both are willing to sacrifice for the other and

3) Both parties make the other a better person.

The first guideline I outlined is big here. Because they are kids, they obviously should not be in a full on romantic relationship now. As a matter of fact, they will probably be waiting AT LEAST eight years. At least.

This means they have eight years to develop a true and wholesome friendship. A friendship with no romantic ulterior motives. They just get to enjoy being kids and growing up with one another. Because of this, they will see each other's high AND low points, rather than viewing the other with rose tinted lenses. Yes, maybe one of them (cough Damian) gets butterflies and feels flustered every time they see the other. But for now, it is very innocent and immature, a childish crush. By framing the goal for this relationship as FRIENDSHIP rather than ROMANCE, the two are able to develop a deeper understanding and a more complete picture of each other before they take anything to the next level.

Does the second point even need to be addressed? Anya is willing to take a tonitrus bolt for him. She is willing to stand up for him (well, technically for the "mission" but we'll get to that later). Damian is willing to take a hit for her, whether it be a dodgeball or a literal bomb. He gives her his share of the macaron (which he believes could help him with his intelligence.) He spends time he could be using to study to locate the finest teacakes in the world so he can give them to her.

Now to the third point.

When we first meet Damian, we don't like him. He is a classist jerk. So karma hits him (literally) in the form of Cupid's arrow. By developing a crush on Anya, he is learning that he should not treat others differently because they have less money. He becomes a better person by learning that "commoners" are the same as all the rich students at Eden.

Side tangent: while I relate more to Damian academic wise, aka pushing myself probably too far to get good grades, I'm sure we can all personally relate to Anya. She tries a lot of things. She fails at almost all of them. Thus, by seeing someone who is academically accomplished and rich be infatuated with her just for being herself, we start to realize that those things don't matter as much as we sometimes feel. Therefore, we want Damian to like her, because it is sweet. It is sweet that someone who places value on things like high academics is able to see past that and appreciate someone else for different good qualities, rather than the ones society deems most important. ~

When Anya first meets Damian, we cannot fault her for disliking him. He is rude to her because she is in a lower social class than him. She is rude to him because he is mean to her. This is perfectly reasonable. In the beginning, it would not make her a better person to be friends with him; as a matter of fact, avoiding him would probably be the high road in this situation. If I were her, I would not have wanted to be friends with him at all.

Side tangent 2:

If you like damianya, you are probably fond of Anya. And of Damian. This is true for me. He's my favorite sxf character. The reason WHY we are fond of him is because we know his backstory. We know he is actually a sweet little guy who just wants to be loved. So we also want him to succeed in his friendship with Anya.

However, though she may have picked up bits and pieces through her mind reading, Anya does not know this. And even if she did, she likely wouldn't understand the levity of it. She's only 4 or 5. ~

Damian and Anya have developed since they first met. They ARE friends (or close to it, anyways). So while at first it wouldn't have made Anya a better person to genuinely care about Damian, now it would.

Because we know Damian and care about him, we also want Anya to care about him. We want her to understand why he acts the way he does. We want her to understand that he actually cares about her.

While Damian is terrible at proving he cares through his words, he is really good at SHOWING her. If she understands he has a different method for showing care, Anya grows. She is able to develop a greater understanding of other people, rather than shaping the world through her own perspective. Framing Damian as the mission makes a lot of sense. She wants her parents to stay together and not get rid of her, and she wants world peace. Of course Anya is not bad for wanting these things. But she will be BETTER when she learns to see things from Damian's pov. She will see the world is not all black and white. She will see that he is not just a mission, and that he is actually as important to her as Yor is to Twilight.

So, conclusively, those are some reasons Damianya is a well written and popular ship. I could also go into detail about how it subverts expectations, likely has future plot relevance (in relation to the story as a whole rather than just a side plot), and is a generally unique and well executed idea. However, for now, I'll leave it at this. I tried to nail down the psychology of what makes it appealing to us, but if anyone has further insights, please feel free to let me know :) Hope you all have a great day

[thats-so-night-raven]

When Rollo shows the group a local pâtisserie, the first thing he points out is financiers

A type of cake that can be in many shapes, but often found in the shape of gold bricks.

There's an adage about financiers: "He who fails his macarons succeeds his financiers" This is because they are made from the same ingredients, but the financiers are less technically difficult.

Financiers are generally considered denser, so better at lasting longer than the delicate macarons. Which makes it too bad Epel didn't get to try them because he might have found them more satisfying.

[mahi-does-some-art]

Any headcanons for how different Servamp characters prefer their smores

These may be the most important headcanons I'll ever write ever, anon.

Mahiru: Simple is best! Usually won't get too fancy with it-- Likes his marshmallow with that perfect golden-brown crust. Before he would be confused why some people would burn the marshmallow so much it caught on fire but Sakuya convinced him to try it once and was surprised that it wasn't horrible.

Kuro: Would either toast his marshmallow golden-brown or where there's be some black char spots but not where the whole thing is burnt. He had the idea to put ice cream on top of his smore once and started doing that without fail.

Sakuya: He burns the fucking thing like no tomorrow and swears its one of the best ways to do it. Other than that, also normally makes a standard smore with the gram crackers and candy bar chocolate. He'll also always have sticky hands no matter how careful he is. This boy cannot make a smore that doesnt ooze onto his fingers.

Tetsu: Is very skilled at getting the marshmallow perfectly cooked. Likes his marshmallow golden brown.

Hugh: He condems under roasted marshmallows like he won't eat a whole family pack of uncooked marshmallows straight out the bag. Something about the integrity of a s'more. He has a habit of roasting the thing, sliding the crust off and eating it and repeat till there's nothing left.

Mikuni: This pretentious asshole likes to use the expensive bar chocolate on his s'mores and will swear its better. He'd probably try to make his own marshmallows to roast and after that he's even more snobbish about it. He'll still eat the normal s'more he's offered. Likes his marshmallow with a couple small charred bits.

Jeje: Will fully burn the marsh. Mikuni thinks he's a psychopath for it and God Forbid he burns one of his Eve's homemade ones.

Licht: Will eat the marshmallow no matter as long is its not fully burnt. He has tried it burnt and he rambled on angrily about how it was a slight to such a deliciously holy treat. Using the normal candy bar chocolate and store-bought gram crackers are very special to him and he prefers it that way.

Hyde: Unintentionally scorched his marshy ONCE and got kicked out of his chair for it. Perfers his the perfect golden-brown. He'll get a little bowl of hot fudge to dip his in and it's perfection.

Freya: Doesn't like anything burnt when it comes to it. Will shake up a can of whipped cream and put some on the top of her s'more. It always gets on the tip of her nose and she can't eat a smore cleanly at all wwwww

Iduna: Golden-brown to somewhat charred. Her mess is even worse than Freya's and she always gets goopy hands. She says it's part of the experience.

Niccolo: Likes his with a few char spots and a side of ice cream. Doesn't mix them but likes to eat them both as a pair.

Ildio: It literally doesn't matter, he'll eat it. Even after he starts slowing down and is able to actually taste it, he likes all forms of marshymallow so he's not picky on this front.

Misono: Ate a burnt s'more once and swore never again. Likes his marshy golden brown or a little undercooked. The high quality ingredients the Alicein get makes for an extra yummy s'more. Guess that's where Mikuni gets it from.

Lily: Actually likes his marshy golden to burnt. He likes the flavor of it. Actually perfers it being in the form of a s'more's flavored macaron with toasty marshmallow fluff filling. He likes the texture of the macaron cookies paired with a bit of the crunch of the gram crackers.

I'm not gonna do the rest of Team M bc its 2am and I'm drawing lol. Plz add onto this if you have any opinions!

[ask-robokasa-and-rui]

Lore post//

A day later, Rui and Minori went to work together.

Rui! You seem more tired than usual...I mean I can't really blame you...

Hm...

With you finding out about all this-

Hm...

And that me and Kanade are together-

Hm...

And the history of Tsukasa's maki-Are you even listening to me!?

Zzz...

RUI!!!

Ah!! I'm awake!!!

You better be! We have another busy day!

Again...?

Yep! We have two idols getting interviewed here!

Aaaauuuuuugh...I don't want to run around to make sure thing are right and fast...

TOO BAD!!! Besides! This place doesn't get enough customers! So these things are big opportunities for us!!

Okay whatever...

Say, why didn't Tsukasa come?

I wanted him to be alone so he can figure out his "new emotions"...

How Rui thinks he'll handle them:

Okay! So I need to boil the noodle...but how does that work if there isn't any water? Oh I need to boil the water and then put the noodle in! Silly me! Okay then! Let's boil some water!! Flame thrower arm! DON'T FAIL ME NOW!!!

Tsukasa has a flame thrower arm?

No but it would be cool if he did.

Aw man...

Oh! Uhh Rui...?

Don't tell me it's almost time for the idols to come...

....

....

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHH!!!!!

WE HAVEN'T EVEN PREPARED ANYTHING!!!!

WE'RE SCREWED!! WE'RE GONNA GET FIRED!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!

Hello?

AH-!!!!

Oh hehehe...hello we didn't see you two there...akward....

Remember us?

Uhhhhhhhhhhh....

The singers...we once came here...

Oh! Kohane and An right?

Yep!

Well sorry to say but we can't really serve you two...we have two idols coming here for an interview!

Oh! Shizuku and Airi?

Right!

Oh we know them! They're like the sweetest people! Well...at least Shizuku is...

Ah...

Don't worry! They're not the type to eat a billion things! I'm sure your work will be the easiest today!

Please don't jinx it...

After an hour or so, the two idols arrive at the diner

AAAAAAAAaaand we're back again in "My interviewee!" Today we have the one and but not only, Sizuku and Airi!!

Helloo!! It's your girl! Airi!!!

Hi there...Shizuku is here!

Well then!! Why don't we order before our interview starts?! WAITER!!!

Gah-!! Hehehe! H-H-Hello! What can I get for you two?

What sweets do you guys have?

Uhh we have Daifuku, Dorayaki, Mochi, Macarons, Cupcakes, Cookies! But for larger sweetswe have Tiramisu, Pancakes, Waffles, etc.

Which one should we get?

How about some Dorayaki?

AAAAAAaaalright!! Twenty Dorayakis!!

T-Twenty?!

Ma'am...Isn't that...

I'll be back with your order!

Ah...

Back in the room.

Alright, so we need to get twenty Dorayakis!

Ah, at least it's something we don't need to do from scratch!

Yeah...

A few minutes later...

So idols! Now that our Dorayakis are here! Why don't we start with some questions from your fans!?!?

Alright! Let's take a look!

First question!

I thought idols usually ear the bare minimum when it comes to food...

Well it's kind of needed for them to have more on camera! To hide stuff ya know?

How do you know that?

Haha! Oh! You know! I'm obsessed with idols.

Ah-

Have you ever had a loved one die?!

Hm?

...!

A loved one die? That's a strange question...but no! I lost my dog once but he came back...!

...

What about you Airi?!

Well...yes. I had a dear friend of mine die...it was a long time ago...when the whole massacre thing was happening...I had a fairly small friend group back then...her death caused me to lose them too...They were...Haruka, Asahi and Tsukasa...

...?! Tsukasa-?!

Shhh!!!

Now tho! We shouldn't break the mood now! Onto the next question!

She...she knew Tsukasa? Well- the human one I assume...If that's so...I'll have a little talk with her when she's done with her interview...

Tags: @aspenii @bobcross1010 @blankblyke @mizuribbons @mai-mai-mai @kusanagi-nene-official-mod @kiwi-does-stuff @scodscod @delartz @m4r1y4m

[marengogo]

6 : “Happy Singles Day! …” Mistakenly Thought Marengo

Listening to a Love Wins All x BTS love songs playlist 

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

–🐺–🐺–🐺–

Hello my dearest Gurls, Bois, Enbys and everyone in-between 💜 and

HAPPY SINGLES DAY!

… not.

Singles day is actually November 11, as in 11/11, as in 1 - 1 - 1 - 1, as in single, single, single and; SINGLE. LONG TIME AGO, a very young-uni-student-Marengo, somehow, mistakenly read today to be singles day, but in fact today is Singles Awareness Day 🤡LOL. So the joke is on me, but matter 👏🏾 does 👏🏾 not 👏🏾! Marengo shall privately keep celebrating Singles Day on the 15th of February because every time she had, she did on today’s date. Granted, I hadn’t had to celebrate it for a long-long minute, but … here I am in 2024.

Granted I’m a bit rusty but, what I always used to do, without fail was:

Buy Salted Caramel & Rose macarons from Pierre Marcolini

Buy a very expensive bottle of red wine

Watch Magic Mike XXL

Haven’t got around watching Magic Mike XXL yet as I’m here writing to you all duh, but here is a picture of the first 2 points.

The bottle didn't come with that neck piece, I put that there because you could see me in the reflection; don't mess with my camera game! 😎

So before anybody starts, I’m not celebrating today because I’m bitter at people who are in love or a couple. I might have been, A LONG TIME AGO, when I started celebrating this day, but as I grew up, it became more of a luxurious and pampering habit, particularly once I realised, and gradually understood, just how beautiful love actually is. And then, when it became my time to experience it 🎊🎉🪄, yeah … LOVE IS A BEAUTIFUL THING. In fact, I actually love LOVE. I love watching people fall in love, I love just the feeling of love itself, you could even say that I love the thought of a love potential, just as much as I love the potential of a love thought … 😜.

But just like a beautiful rose, love can hurt, no matter how careful, unexpected/unseen thorns can still get you. Yet, you shouldn't hate the rose, right? “I gotta be more careful …” that should be the brains immediate reaction, but sometimes, the amygdala works real hard, with unpaid overtime, keeping us away from roses until we figure out how to better tackle them, and some other times, it just makes us give up on roses entirely, which is a shame but it is what it is sometimes, because roses are really so so so precious, no matter what your favourite flower might happen to be. My favourite flowers are Forget-me-nots, but I will never deny the charm of a rose and I’ve learned to not hate them through time, even when, or even though, I might be deadass afraid of them.

Falling in love is like deciding to take care of your own personal rose/s. You will naturally like many different flowers and will naturally nurture them, rightfully so. Yet, at the same time, there might come a time when you’ll desire to also cherish in having a rose. Some might want roses to boast at their beauty, some simply like a challenge, but all in all, for many, if they could only manage to take care of even just one singular rose, for as long as they possibly can, without it dying; they’d consider it a great achievement and I'd agree. Roses don’t smell like boo-boo, but without LEC (Love, Effort and Care) they are indeed hard to keep, and will quickly perish.

… So what does this have to do with Singles / Singles Awareness Day?! Bitch you are making me feel much worse than before! Like STFU FR. There is a reason why I watch Magic Mike XXL. I really don’t give two shits about the first magic Mike, like I don’t even remember it. Yet XXL ⚠️SPOILER ALERT⚠️ Has as a main plot the main character not ending with whom he thought was the love of his life, right from the start, and instead discovering the value of having a solid community and believing in one’s self ⚠️ END OF SPOILER ⚠️ helps me remind myself that if I am unable to find a rose to take care of, or if I am not ready to do so either, I should remember that I myself am a rose and I should treat myself as such; with love, effort and care.

So today isn't a day where I hate those who have found and are bravely keeping love. No. Today is a day where I think of what could be, mourn what could have been and remember that the me of now also deserves love in the form of macrons, expensive wine and a feel good movie. So if you are single, have been for a while, or always have been, try not to obsess over having that garden of roses. Take care of your flowers first, make sure they are healthy! I’ve neglected “my forget-me-nots” for a bit too long now, so I have some cathcin gup to do, and don’t forget you are a rose yourself; take good care of yourself, be kind to yourself; love yourself. 

Always respectfully yours,

Marengo

@ejassy @chikooritajjk @stormblessed95 Thank you so much and I love you, my unique flowers.

[one-idea]

If Marco steps into Thatch's kitchen. He'll probably not want to return. Probably because it might smell like PERFECTLY good pineapples are ruined. Just for cookies. FOR COOKIES. Ace tried to drive Marco out of the kitchen but *sigh.* he failed. Thatch looks like he wants to strangle something or someone.

Thatch would probably yell at Ace for getting him into this mess. For Deuce's stupid ass macarons and these stupid PINEAPPLE COOKIES. This has to be one of the most traumatizing things that Thatch has experienced on Whitebeards ship.

Marcos walks in.

Sees what they are doing.

Takes a deep breath.

Weighs if it’s worth it.

Walks out.

He knows there is no stopping Thatcher or Ace once they started something. And the pineapples are already destroyed. There is nothing to be done.

However there are some sick men aboard whose bed pans need changing. And who have vomiting or any other gross thing that comes from being sick. And it’s been a while since Deuce has been on that rotation.

Does he feel bad for punishing Deuce for something completely out of his control or knowledge. A little bit.

Does it make him feel better that the person who started this mess is suffering to. Yes.

He knows this stupid pineapple cookies are coming to the infirmary no matter what he does. So until Ace can put a stop to Thatch’s side quest or the cookies are actually enjoyable he’s going to put Deuce on the gross cases.

Experience

It makes him feel better

It’s the only thing that might turn Ace to his side. Making it hard to see Deuce and anytime they do have together he’s sure will be spent complaining.

Thatch is mourning that the first attempt did not work. Blaming Ace for starting this whole mess. And getting ready for round two of pineapples

Ace is determined to help no matter what

Deuce is not prepared for the ‘no matter what’ that is heading his way.

[noodyl-blasstal]

Oops, Come Dine With Me

It's @taznovembercelebration day 7! Today I got "Cooking" and drew another card, "Bakery AU"

You can read yesterday's prompt here and today's below.

-

Taako answers the phone, tucks it between his shoulder and ear, grabs the cookies, and closes the oven door as quietly as possible with his knee. "Go for Taako."

"Tah-kow, darling, how are you?" Asks an overfamiliar voice. Definitely one of the twins from the production company, Taako isn't sure which one, maybe Edward?

"Cha'boy's just wonderful, thank you so much for asking. How about your good self?" Taako rolls his eyes, but it’s worth playing the game as long as this pays off.

"I'm splendiferous, just peachy, and so thrilled to tell you the outcome of your interview."

Taako waits, there's so much riding on this. If he can just get the money he can afford the bakery. There's no way he's letting Jenkins get it instead, but Jenkins has family money and Taako has one sister who’s as broke as he is. If Jenkins gets it Taako's going to have to leave, going to have to charm his way into another restaurant or bakery because boy does he not have the qualifications for it. His macarons can only take him so far in life. But if he gets to own the shop? Then he can branch out. Taako can bake better than anyone, but he cooks too. He's a baller chef and once the bakery is his he can prove it.

"Are you still there dear?" Edward asks, Taako's fairly sure it's Edward, not that he’ll gamble and use his name yet.

"Yeparooni."

"Aren't you going to ask what the decision was?" Edward sounds pissed off, but Taako hates playing games. It's worth it though, well, if he's got the spot.

"Sure. Did cha'boy knock yours socks off?"

"We were impressed by your skills, and very intrigued by your husband's menu theming - a fan of the macabre you said?" Shit. He didn’t think they were going to ask about it… maybe Taako didn't completely totally and fully think this plan through.

"He sure is!" Taako says brightly. "Big fan of death. Loves a goth bird too, you can probably tell." Taako had channelled him hard when he wrote that menu.

Edward laughs, polite and insincere. "Yes, well, such a shame he couldn't make it to the interviews."

"Mmhmm." Taako replies, attempting the most mournful voice he can muster. "It was deeply difficult to do something so important without him there, but, you just can't argue with explosive diarrhoea, can you?" Well, hopefully he wouldn’t.

Edward makes a choked noise of disgust on the other side of the phone and it fills Taako with vindictive glee. Serves him right, honestly - how dare he ask Taako about the husband he’s entering Couples Come Dine With Me with and mentioned multiple times throughout the interview.

"How..  ah... romantic." Edward's clearly struggling not to let his disgust shine through and failing miserably.

"Thank you, we're very deeply in love." Taako says, doing his best impression of Taako Tacco: married guy.

Edward chuckles. "I'm sure you are, and that you'll be delighted to hear that you get to demonstrate that love to the nation - you’ve been selected for the show!”

Edward’s so effusive that Taako feels he should do more to celebrate than a silent fistpump. “Wowwee! Golly gee! What wonderful news!! I’m jumping for joy!” Taako does jump, three times, just in case Edward can hear somehow.

“I’m so glad you’re excited. We’ll just need you and, Kravitz to meet with the producers to hand in your final menu and we can discuss filming your sections.” Edward’s in business mode now.

“Just to check…” Taako ventures. “... just in case, you know, it comes up, what would happen if my beloved, darling Kravitz were still too unwell to take part?” Taako tries to sound as innocent as possible, it’s a perfectly ordinary question, anyone would ask it.

Edward laughs once. “He won’t be, Taako.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” That sounded like they’d marionette his corpse round if he tried to back out.

“It’s <i>Couples</i> Come Dine With Me, Taako. No husband, no shot at the prize, we’ve got back up couples.”

“Uh huh.” Says Taako, cool, totally normal, nonchalant, in fact. “So, if he were ill, could I bring a friend? My sister would do it.”

“That’s not really the kind of show, not to judge of course, but the couples do have to be legal. Anyway, ta ta! Watch out for the email from production.” 

Edward’s gone. Taako stands alone in the kitchen with a tray of cookies and the mess he created. He pulls out his phone:

Taako [15:27] Hey Krav, wanna get married?

[annaliessse]

Time for our kitty cat, pretty Prince Yves.

𝕺𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕺𝖛𝖊𝖗

Word Count: 758

He’s really done it this time.

Yves sighs as he prepares a plate of freshly baked cookies. There already was a table full of sweets in your room, but after what you’ve experienced today, he wanted to indulge you with everything you wanted. Maybe later, he could shout Clavis’ ear off after one of his pitfalls caused you to sprain your ankle, but for now, all he wants is to make you feel better. Along with a pot of tea, Yves takes the cookies back to your room.

He opens the door to find you wincing as you sit up to take a macaron. His heart aches with guilt, and immediately, Yves rushes to your side and helps with your food.

“Thank you, Yves.” You smile brightly, eyes sparkling as you take a bite of the rose macaron he made earlier. Yves thought you beautiful, and it was like looking at the palace’s rose gardens. You looked genuinely happy, unbothered by the injury that would leave you bedridden for days.

Still, Yves sees a hint of pain in your eyes, and if he wasn’t so worried about you, he’d go straight to his hellcat of a brother and punch him. Or maybe take away his dessert privileges for a month.

“You’re pouting, Yves.”

“I’m not!”

“But you are, though.” You lean closer, a smile playing on your lips as his ears redden with the close proximity. “I told you I’m fine. It’s just a slight injury.”

“Slight?! You can’t walk for a week! And even then, you would need crutches to get around the palace.” Yves’ face falls. “This is all my fault. I’m sorry.”

You drop the macaron you are holding and look at him.

“If I hadn’t invited you to the gardens this morning, this wouldn’t have happened. I should’ve listened when you wanted to visit that new café. We could have gone today. Then, all these wouldn’t have happened.” He avoids your eyes and instead looks at the blue sky outside. “My bad luck is rubbing on you.”

From the corner of his eye, Yves notices you frowning. You set the plate of macarons on the table and move closer.

“Yves, no.” He refuses to meet your eyes, and Yves feels your gentle touch on his chin, guiding him to look at you straight in the eyes.

“None of this is your fault. I wanted to spend time with you, whether it be in the gardens or in town. It just so happened that Clavis set a trap that we both failed to notice. Besides,”

You hold his hands and your eyes crinkle when you smile at him.

“I don’t mind being injured. Not when I get to see you like this.”

“A panicked mess?”

“A doting lover.” You lean closer, foreheads touching and Yves breathes in your comforting scent. “I love you fussing over me. I love seeing you cook all my favorite dishes. I love you feeding me every dessert on this table. It’s times like these when I feel you most, Yves.”

You kiss him and on his lips, you whisper.

“Every time I see the worry in your eyes, the gentleness in your touch, and the care in your food, I fall for you more. I don’t care how many pitfalls I have to tumble into, or how many tea parties have to be ruined. I would do it over and over, Yves.  Because if there’s one thing I want most in the world, it’s to bask in the beauty of your love every, single, second.”

 It was quiet for a moment, and when you lean back to look at him, Yves finds himself softly crying as he stares at you. Your words quieted all the voices of inadequacy in the back of his head. He loved you so, and he often worries whether he was enough for you and your pure heart. But, at this moment, he wonders whether he has gotten it all wrong.

Yves for sure thought that he loved you more.

Yet, when he looks deeply into your eyes, he sees the possibility of you loving him more.

There was nothing but unbridled affection in your irises. You look at him like a granted dream. You look at him like a wish come true. You look at him like a blessing, so different from the cursed looks of those who hated his bad luck and Obsidianite blood.

Yves pulls you in for a gentle kiss.

He’ll make sure to bake Clavis a cake later in the afternoon.

[theerurishipper]

How did Reflekdoll and Kwamibuster make the LadyNoir conflict worse?

Hi!

Okay, we'll take on Reflekdoll first. Disclaimer: I did not like it.

The problem with this episode is that it perpetuates the idea that Ladybug and Chat Noir are not truly equals. More obviously in the way that Marinette has a much easier time mastering the Black Cat than Adrien does with the Ladybug. And I know people will point to the unfortunate cataclysm as evidence that Marinette also fucked up, but she had no way of knowing that would happen and so the episode does go out of its way to make the one mistake she makes not actually be her fault. While Adrien struggles with the Ladybug and has to have Marinette help him out, and so in the end she is the one who really ends up saving the day anyway.

But that tangent aside, the point of the episode is for each of them to spend the day in the other's shoes. Having the characters understand and learn to appreciate the other partner's role is a common trope among many shows. However, Reflekdoll misses the point by a mile, because Adrien is the only one who learns a lesson. There are two ways in which this episode contributes to the Ladynoir conflict: the in-universe reasoning and the real-world explanation.

From the beginning of the episode:

Chat Noir: I don't call the shots, m'lady. You're the superhero who captures the evil akumas— I'm just the cunning, ultra-charming Chat Noir. Ladybug: Right, you have it easy. Chat Noir: Easy? That's 'cause I make it look easy. Ladybug: As cunning as you might be, that little prank you pulled earlier almost made my Lucky Charm fail! Chat Noir: D'you know why Master Fu gave you the Ladybug Miraculous instead of me? Ladybug: Because it requires someone with a sense of responsibility? Chat Noir: No, because you don't have a sense of humor. Ladybug: Pfft, whatever. (Chat Noir tries to kiss her hand) Ah! (She pulls away) Chat Noir: Uh... Look, it's no big deal! You have so many other great qualities! I'm just in charge of the humor department. (His ring starts beeping) Ladybug: You'd better get going before you lose your clown costume. Chat Noir: Miss you already, Bugaboo. Ladybug: Don't call me—! Chat Noir: (leaving) See? I was right! (Ladybug groans)

And the end:

Mister Bug: Honestly, I understand why you never have any time to make jokes, m'lady. Lady Noire: We both have our roles, huh Bugaboy? (They jump into separate alleyways.) Mister Bug: Spots off! (He detransforms. Tikki lands in his hands, and he gives her a bite of camembert. He begins taking off the earrings, which appear flat and silver.) Adrien: See you again, soon, Tikki. Tikki: Goodbye, Adrien! (takes the miraculous, which turn round and polka-dotted when she grabs them, and flies away) Lady Noire: Claws in! (She detransforms. Plagg falls into her hands, and she gives him a bite of a macaron.) Marinette: Bye-bye, Plagg. (hands over the disguised miraculous, which is rose gold) That was really awesome! Plagg: (the miraculous turns black and green in his hands) Sure was! No better way to escape the boredom of daily life! (He flies off, returning to Adrien, who laughs with joy and embraces him.) Adrien: You can count on me, Plagg. I'll never take off my miraculous again! (puts it on, and it turns silver) I'm not cut out to be Ladybug, that's for sure! Marinette: (gasps upon seeing Tikki, and hugs her) Aww, (kisses her) I was so afraid I'd lost you forever, Tikki! (puts on her earrings, which become black) I'm so happy to have you back! (Tikki hugs her face, and they giggle and embrace again.)

Adrien starts the episode by making fun of Ladybug for being humorless and ends the episode by understanding how her role and the responsibilities that come with it don't give her time to crack jokes and have fun. Marinette learns... how easy it is to be Chat Noir.

And this is the problem with their dynamic. In this episode, the message is that Chat Noir is not as important as Ladybug. Chat Noir's role is to joke around and play the fool while Ladybug does the real work. And "learning" this is what causes Ladybug to double down on being "the only one with responsibility" in Season 4, which leads to her neglecting her partner and trying to do everything herself (there are other reasons, of course, but this is one of them).

But that is of course, the in-universe explanation. Now, from a writing standpoint, Reflekdoll's main issue is with how it frames the conflict itself. Chat Noir is accused of playing the fool and not taking it seriously. And yes, on some occasions he does have the tendency to do that, but he does take the job seriously, as proven by the sheer number of times he sacrifices himself so that they can win. Chat Noir has also never considered Ladybug's job to be easy, and he's always shown that he understands how important her role is. And Ladybug herself is not a killjoy. She also makes jokes along with him and enjoys participating in banter. His role was greatly undermined here for that sort of contrived conflict. And it reinforces the idea that Chat Noir and Ladybug are not equals. Chat Noir isn't as important or necessary as Ladybug. She's the only one who matters, and he is increasingly irrelevant. Ladybug is Barbie, and Chat Noir is Ken. This attitude carries over into the following seasons, and is never really dropped even when the conflict between them actually becomes an in-universe thing.

Now, as for Kwamibuster, it also reinforces the increasing gap between them. It's another straw in the cup of Ladybug's secrets. At this point it is still Master Fu's fault, but it still serves to reinforce the inequality between them, because Ladybug gets to know secrets and information that Chat Noir doesn't. Ladybug gets to know and choose all the Miraculous holders and know their identities, but if Chat Noir does, then they can't be holders anymore. This was an excuse for Marinette to cover her tracks, but it does have some implications that only emphasize the inequalities between the both of them. This sort of secret keeping that Master Fu taught Ladybug is what she continues to do even when she becomes Guardian, and it is detrimental to their relationship. It's not the only example of this, but it is the most egregious one, especially since we know that this rule didn't apply to fucking Shadowmoth. It's one more secret being kept from him to add to the pile.

So yeah. I hope this answers your question anon. Thank you for your ask!

[ap-sadistics]

@lizardsarecute THANK YOU!!! IT WAS A TRIAL. also also. i have more tips for taking on rhythm tower if youre semi bad at rhythm like i am. i was. super bad at it in the beginning. like. i failed to get to even the 10th floor in the first 5 or so tries hsdkjhflk. but i realized some things as i tried again after s ranking some stages. so like. this is sorta a guide

its obvious but the most important thing is TIME. and you only get more time from certain things. perfect beat hits, perfect parries, enemy kills, and successful rhythm attack sequences (there could be more but these are them most important ones. in order too tbh)

just Landing beat hits is not good enough. you should also try your best to hit perfect. you dont get time for good beat hits. mixing up combos matter less in this mode, and sure the time you get at the end of the floor depends on your final score/rank, you can make up for the difference in time by continuously landing perfect beat hits. and also spamming partners helps keep your combo up, the higher combo you have, the better the score multiplier is i think, so partners can help you reach s rank anyways (sometimes). the reason i use only light-light-light-light or heavy-heavy-heavy combos IS BC I SUCK AT SWITCHING UP THE ATTACKS ON BEAT.... doing other combos fucks up my sense of rhythm that i fuck up the beat hit. (also the light attack combo is one of the faster combos)

(also i THINK certain combos give you more time? i havent had the brain capacity to study this tho.)

so yeah. tldr: make sure you hit perfect beat hits. try to follow through on combos even if youre gonna whiff an enemy. bc even if you whiff, youll at least gain time. the only time i abort out of a combo is to parry an attack

BIG TIP THO: RIGHT after you finish a fight BEFORE you move onto a new floor, DO QUICK BEAT HIT (X+A). if you land it right , YOU CAN GET AN EXTRA 3 SECONDS. and if youre fast you might be able to sneak in 2 beat hits.

okay enough about beat hits. parrying is so essential to rhythm tower bc perfect parrying gives you time. honestly theres not much i can say about this other than try to parry always. though this is coming from a guy who never dodges. (dodging around a lot is just idle time i feel in rhythm tower. you should be constantly laying on the pressure attacking so you dont lose time. better to parry than dodge)

for specials i use hibiki and pick me up. pick me up is so important. its nice that you can heal before you start a floor. but also hitting it perfectly during fights ALSO gives you 3 seconds. hibiki i use against z shield enemies when i can afford it. waiting for macarons cooldown SUCKS. i consider them time suckers tbh.

also this is my chip line up

i REALLY like high risk high return and i wish i could use it at level 3... bc you HIT SO MUCH HARDER AND THUS BEAT STAGES FASTER.... but AUGH. literally roquefort is the only reason i have it at lvl 1. it was too risky for him.... parry health is at lvl 3 also bc of roquefort. id say having either of the battery chips is pretty solid for rhythm tower to for pick me up and hibiki (or whatever special attack you use). actually maybe the other battery chip is better than parry charge now that i think about it. hm. i should swap that out for my next attempt.

oh and for kales phase two. when you cant attack him, you should still do beat hits even if its not AT him. light attack combo or quick beat him. maybe quick beat hits bc its faster. you really want to avoid idling in rhythm tower

anyways this turned longer than i thought. i hope this helps. if youre better at rhythm than i am you might fair better. but this is what i did take it on with my rhythm impaired ass. rhythm tower required you to play a bit differently i feel. at the very least it make you pay more attention to the beat hit circles kjsdfhbjdskjfhjl

ANYWAYS. RHYTHM TOWER IS HELL. BUT I LEARNED. ITS DOABLE. SO AS YOU KNOW WHAT YOU NEED TO DO. GOOD LUCK!!!!!!