#Hi everyone I'm alive! I hope everyone is doing good :) I will share a lot of art in the near future!

[the-elisakou]

Well well well, this is only bound to end well, hm?

[talekinesis]

I need Stan and Ford to see their mom again

Like let's say she's still alive and in her 80s, she's in a wheelchair (ambulatory, she has customized canes) she still lives in their old home because a part of her hoped Stanford would come back, and she didn't want to leave their home, so he'd know where to go back to.

She wanted to stay put in case Ford came back.

So imagine her shock when both her boys come back home to her

Obviously Stan immediately starts apologizing for faking his death, putting her through grief, her arranging and attending his funeral, but she stops him like "I'd much rather it be fake than real." That's her baby boy, back from the dead, something most people don't get, so to her it's a miracle.

Her Jersey accent is thick, and it actually brings out the twins' accents that had faded over time (Stan's sounds natural to him since he always retained it a little, but everyone finds it funny when Ford's accent comes back because he just doesn't seem like the type to speak like that)

THEY MOVE HER INTO THE SHACK

The boys wanna take care of their mama and keep her around since it's been so long, and Caryn is delighted to be moved out of a loud city with rough memories and into a quiet little town where the people are odd but nice. Ford and Stan both work together to make the Shack accessible for her. Ford actually sat in her wheelchair to test everything and make sure she could get around on her own.

They catch her up on everything, and at first they don't think she'll fully believe them but she's like "Stanford built an international portal and got lost for 30 years? Stanley took his place and turned his home into tourist trap? Yeah, that seems like something my boys would do."

When she learns Stan taught himself engineering to re-build the portal, she's obviously very proud of him. "You were never dumb, Stanley, ya just learned different. Honestly, I always thought ya had A-D-H-D but Pa never wanted ya tested. But look how smart and creative ya turned out, son! I think ya did good." And Stan is definitely not crying.

Personal headcanon: Caryn was also really smart and picked up on things quick. The boys had to have gotten it from somewhere, and it wasn't Filbrick. He just took the credit because 1) he was the worst, and 2) times were different back then and no one would have really taken her seriously. But she's the one who would fix things around the house since she taught herself how to keep the place together and running since Filbrick wouldn't pay anyone to come and repair anything.

Imagine little Stan standing behind her with a flashlight while she fixes the wiring in the wall because an outlet stopped working. Both of the boys helping her while she fixes the car for the third time that week because it keeps breaking down. Mama Pines taught herself how to keep things up and running because no one else would or could.

Caryn meets Mabel and Dipper when they come back in the summer, and Mabel is THRILLED

She's technically met them before but they were still newborns at the time so they don't remember her, and she hadn't gotten a chance to see who they'd become

Mabel makes her a sweater and she wears it with pride. And I really think it would go like that scene from Elemental

Caryn: You made this?

Mabel: Oh, yeah, it's nothing-

Caryn: Nothin? Babygirl, my designer dresses were made by 'nothin.' Oh sweetie, you have got to do somethin' with this skill. And to think, I have an original 'Mabel Pines.'

And don't think I'm leaving Dipper out of this, he gets his great-grandma's attention too. She loves talking to him and listening to him tell stories about the monsters they've encountered in the past. She sees a lot of Ford in him, but she also sees a lot of Stan in him in other ways.

I think Dipper's love for "girly" music is something Stan used to share before Filbrick "disciplined" him for it. Child Stan used to sit in the kitchen with his Ma and sing along to the radio, usually listening to whatever she had put on.

Now all three of them sit in the kitchen and listen to the radio while Stan cooks.

Ford feeling like a failure for putting everyone in danger, and Caryn just goes, "Come talk to your mama." And he does. He goes and talks to his mama, like he always has in the past. She's in her 80s and they're grown men in their late 50s, but she's still their mom, and you never really quit being a mom.

I might actually write a short fic about this, I love it so much.

[district-thirteen-intern]

Katniss Everdeen says Peeta wanted kids. I say Katniss Everdeen is a dirty little liar who spent three books projecting baby fever onto the softest man alive while denying it so hard she almost gaslit herself.

And because I'm tired of arguing that Peeta didn't force Katniss to have kids, here's my probable version of what went down:

baby fever, but make it apocalyptic — everlark

it starts when delly has a baby

and katniss gets to hold it and it squeaks

her uterus literally tingles

cue immediate panic

she hands it back like it burned her

and then she immediately goes outside to shoot at squirrels until the feeling goes away

except—

(it doesn't really go away)

the next two weeks are a torture

"not everyone deserves to be a parent"

"what if they cry a lot"

"what if they're angry like me"

"what if they're allergic to bread"

"what if our child hates me"

"what if our child hates peeta"

no

no one can hate peeta

"but what if—"

it's exhausting

she steers clear of delly and her spawn the next few days

it doesn't work

her nightmares take a strange turn

she sees herself carrying a baby through the woods as she hunts

the baby giggles

another baby sits on the kitchen counter

with peeta's eyes and peeta's face

in matching aprons as peeta

and ugh—

she almost misses the mutts

anyway, she reorganizes the pantry

alphabetizes the herbs

knits something she insists is a herb pouch

but it's suspiciously baby-sized

eventually, it gets too much

and peeta is not helping

he's holding delly's baby when she visits him at the bakery

the baby is laughing

well, fuck

her whole resolve crumbles

he's making bread

she blurts, "your forearms are nice"

"thanks?"

"mm, they would be good for carrying things"

peeta raises a brow

"heavy things— like... sacks"

"sacks."

"or— like, baskets."

katniss is embarassed

peeta is visibly confused

and haymitch—

haymitch is dying of laughter

"did you know babies can't see color for weeks?"

"katniss."

"i just wanted to share a fact."

"katniss."

"it didn't mean anything. shut up."

and then she starts knitting a tiny hat

“is that for delly’s baby?”

"no."

"a friend’s baby?”

"no.”

"...katniss.”

peeta has suspicions

and they're confirmed when he finds her journal open to a page

titled: NAMES FOR HYPOTHETICAL BABY

Ember

Rue Rue ❤

Bread Jr.

NOT GALE

it ends like this—

Peeta, eventually: “Do you want to have ki—”

“YES”

“i didn’t even finish the word”

"i mean... i will if I have to, if you want too much... i mean i want to if you want to, i mean— because i love you so much."

“are you sure?”

“are you sure?”

"uh huh”

oh.

katniss blinks

"wait— that's it?"

"katniss, i've been waiting for you to stop glitching long enough to bring it up.”

she punches his arm

he laughs

haymitch starts prepping a baby-proof survival kit

no one dares ask what's in it

nine months later—

the baby is just as beautiful as she imagined

good thing peeta convinced her to have babies, really

i know it's exaggerated for comedy purposes but this is really not that far from the course of events i imagine happened— katniss is an expert at gaslighting herself after all— and I hope you liked it.

please don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you liked it. and lmk if you'd be interested in being added to a tag list.

[hazbinhotei]

a little too prideful.

read part two (a semi-standalone comfort fic) here

warnings: blood, mimzy, violence & gore (alastor), injury & gun violence (you), cannabalism (alastor again), light angst w/ a happy ending

word count: 3735

summary: When Mimzy lures a group of vengeful loan sharks to the hotel, you’re left to deal with the fallout—both physically and emotionally—while Alastor is forced to realize that his pride blinded him to the one thing that truly mattered: you. (story takes place during ep. 5)

alastor x f!reader—technically gn!reader minus the ~two instances i use 'her' pronouns for clarity. whoo this one's a doozy. i'm not necessarily sure if i'm proud of how this turned out, especially since a good chunk is just taken from episode 5. i also struggle a lot with multi-character scenes like this, so please let me know if i could improve on anything. nonetheless, though, i hope you all enjoy!

Life at the Hazbin Hotel with Alastor was many things—chaotic, unconventional, but above all, it was yours. The two of you had carved out a comfortable existence amidst the madness, his constant grin and ever dramatic behavior a fixture in your day-to-day life. It was hard not to adore the way he’d hum while cooking, or the way he’d twirl you in the hallway just for the fun of it. You had accepted him despite all his flaws, including his particular flaw of being obsessive over his power. But, hey, they don’t just call it the Pride Ring for no reason.

Tonight was no different. You sat with the rest of the hotel group, half-listening as Lucifer and Alastor bickered back and forth in song, their battle of wits crescendoing in dramatic flair. It was an odd sort of game, something between posturing and genuine irritation, and though you were used to Alastor’s theatrics, the sudden appearance of Lucifer had only seemed to make him more insufferable.

And that's when she arrived.

Mimzy. A name whispered from the past, a figure Alastor knew from his time alive. She waltzed through the doors of the hotel like she owned the place, all charm and nostalgia, completely interrupting Alastor and Lucifer—the goddamned Radio Demon and the very King of Hell. Everyone else seemed bewildered by her unexpected entrance, save for you and Husk. Because unlike the others, you both recognized her. Mimzy wasn’t just another demon Alastor knew: she was perhaps the only one still lingering from his life before Hell. And that was a life he never spoke about to you.

You weren’t jealous. Of course not. That would be ridiculous. Petty, even!

Which is why you smiled and offered her a drink when she settled in like she belonged there. Even when Alastor seemed more preoccupied with his initial task of challenging Lucifer, you continued to make polite conversation, keeping Mimzy company like a good host as Alastor waltzed off with Charlie and Vaggie to show Lucifer around the hotel. You even decided not to question why exactly she was there, because you definitely weren’t someone who was even remotely bothered by the way she looked at your lover—your Alastor—like she still knew him better than anyone else in the room. You must simply be paranoid!

Thankfully, Angel Dust and Husk kept you entertained by the bar with their usual banter, sparing you from being the sole communicator with Mimzy. You were actually starting to have a decent conversation with her, listening to her talk about how she used to perform at the jazz club Alastor commonly frequented, finally excited to get a glimpse into Alastor’s life before his fall to damnation. But Mimzy had a way of causing commotion, and she knew it. She, like Al, seemed to share the same sin of pride, which resulted in her slipping a sharp, snide little comment hidden beneath her layers of old-timey charm.

"Oh, sweetheart, I do admire ya dedication. Must be so tiring, trying to keep a man like Alastor entertained. I mean, he does get bored so easily, doesn’t he? I’m even surprised he kept me along for this long!"

The words struck deeper than you wanted to admit. Her comment made Angel Dust’s amused grin falter, his mismatched eyes widening in offense for you. Even Husk paused, ears flicking at the sheer audacity.

But you? You simply smiled.

Because you weren’t petty. You were raised better than to stoop down to her level, knowing just how much she wanted to see the worst in you come out. So all you did was smile, your hand tightening on your glass imperceptibly.

“I like to think I do alright,” you replied, voice saccharine. And before she could get in another jab, you excused yourself, turning on your heel before anyone could see the way your jaw clenched just a little too tight.

You needed to find Alastor.

It took some searching, but you found him shadowing Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer as they walked the halls, his posture perfectly poised, his expression fixed in a grin that was just a little too flawless. Lucifer’s presence was, as expected, a threat to the power balance in the hotel, and Alastor was treating it as such.

Your feet picked up the pace, jogging up to him as you called his name. He didn’t turn.

You tried again, and this time, his head snapped toward you, his entire neck cracking with the speed of it. His smile was still there, but his eyes… they were strained.

“Dearest,” he greeted, the word drawn out with thin patience as he twisted his body to match his inhumanely turned neck. “I’m a little busy at the moment.”

You purse your lips sourly, crossing your arms as you replied. “Mimzy said something to me. Something rude. I—”

“Oh, she does that all the time,” Alastor interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “Don’t take it so personally, cher.”

Your brows furrowed, impatience rising. “Al, she—”

“Really, must we do this now?” His voice, usually so smooth and lilting, held the barest edge of frustration. His focus was drifting back to Lucifer, and that—that stung more than it should have.

“Alastor,” you pressed, but he cut you off again, his expression flickering with exasperation.

“I’m trying to ensure Lucifer Morningstar doesn’t throw this place into absolute chaos,” he said, his usual theatrics dampened by irritation. “Forgive me if I don’t have time to entertain every little grievance.”

That was the breaking point.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides. You weren’t asking him to start a war over this, you just wanted him to listen. But apparently, his pride, his status, his stupid fixation on proving himself compared to Lucifer—that mattered more.

“Fine,” you bit out, voice tight. “Go ahead. Play your little game. I’ll be downstairs.”

And with that, you resisted the urge to bark anything else at him and left, ignoring the way his shadow frowned as you stormed away.

By the time you reached the lobby again, your anger was simmering beneath the surface, hot and unresolved. Angel Dust raised a brow as you rejoined them, Husk grunted in acknowledgment, and Mimzy?

She just smirked.

And that—oh, that just made your blood boil all the more. You bit your cheek harshly, letting the pain distract you from the way you wanted to absolutely tear your claws into her snobby little head. 

Just as you were about to say something, the hotel trembled violently, sending dust raining from the ceiling. Your eyes shot open from the interruption, the four of you jolting from the bar in surprise. Angel Dust barely had time to curse before another explosion rocked the walls, and even Sir Pentious and Niffty had rushed out into the lobby to see what was happening. Husk’s ears flicked in irritation, eyes narrowing as he downed the rest of his whiskey in a single gulp.

“What the hell is goin’ on?” Husk grumbled, pushing himself off the counter.

Niffty skittered toward the window, peeking outside. Her single eye widened, smile terrifyingly wide: "Oh, wow! Lots of company! And they don’t look very friendly!"

You pushed yourself up from the bar stool, already seething from your argument with Alastor, only for your frustration to triple when you caught sight of what was happening outside through the windows. Your hotel was under attack.

Explosions continued to pelt the exterior, fire and debris scattering across the pavement. Figures lurked in the smoke, their silhouettes illuminated by the flickering flames. Loan sharks. Armed. Dangerous. And heading straight for the entrance.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you hissed, storming toward the door, ignoring Angel Dust’s warning call.

The moment you stepped outside, the gunfire ceased momentarily as the gangsters caught sight of you. Their expressions twisted into rage, and before you could say a word, one of them barked, “That must be her—Mimzy! Get her!”

You barely had time to register what they meant before pain exploded through your side. A gunshot rang in your ears, the impact knocking you backward as agony tore through you. You hit the pavement, breath wheezing from your lungs as Angel Dust and Husk shouted your name.

“Oh, hell no!” Angel snarled, grabbing you before they could get another shot off. Husk swore under his breath, hauling you back into the hotel as more bullets followed, splintering the doorframe. “What the ever-loving fuck did you do, Mimzy?!”

Inside, you gasped, hand pressing against the wound in your side as black blood seeped through your fingers. The injury wasn’t too damaging and you hardly worried since it wasn’t an angelic bullet, but your vision still swam from the sudden sting. Angel crouched beside you, protective, his face set in grim determination (and annoyance of this entire situation) as Niffty rushed off to grab medical supplies. You were too busy focusing on the teeth-clenching pain to hear Husk arguing with Mimzy over why these loan sharks had said her name, hearing her say she apparently owes them fifty grand. Before you could even respond to her words, Sir Pentious’ shouted at everyone as he dodged a fireball. “Take cover!”

You watched as the hotel descended into chaos. Angel lunged forward, yanking Niffty out of the way before another fireball could flatten her. Husk abandoned Mimzy without a second thought, his wings fluttering as he rushed to your side. He grabbed you gently, hauling you against the bar wall, out of the direct line of fire. 

Angel was back in an instant, Niffty dangling from one of his arms. The moment he drops her onto the floor, she tears through the hotel's makeshift first aid kit, muttering curses about bloodstains on her carpets.

(A passing reminder to thank Charlie for creating a first aid kit for the hotel entered your mind, the temporary thought stored in the back of your adrenaline-filled brain as you realized how genius the idea was even if you all had originally found the concept laughable.

Who knew you would need one when fighting and pain was practically a daily guarantee in Hell?)

Charlie, Lucifer, Vaggie, and Alastor descend from the staircase a minute later, their eyes scanning the chaos. But it was Alastor who froze, his entire frame going rigid as his eyes landed on you. You two locked eyes for a moment, his foot hovering mid step as he took in your pained expression.

The ever-present smile on his face faltered, just for a second.

Then his world snapped.

Alastor’s gaze darkened, his static flickering erratically as he shadowed towards you in the blink of an eye. His movements were slow, almost mechanical, as he crouched before you, reaching out to gently touch the black blood on your fingers. When he pulled back, his hand trembled, shadows pooling below his kneeling body exponentially.

You had never seen him look like this before.

Vaggie took a step forward from behind the broken front doors, holding her spear in her hands with a pissed off expression. “All of you, get a safe distance. I’ll take care of this.”

Alastor didn’t even glance at her. His voice came out in a low, sickeningly sweet purr. "No, my dear, leave it to me. It’s time I remind everyone why I am here."

Mimzy, pops up from behind the bar counter, perked up. “Oh, finally! Took ya long enough!”

Alastor didn’t react. His shadow twisted violently beneath him, tendrils stretching, shifting, writhing as an eerie green glow seeped through the cracks of the floorboards.

Outside, the gangsters were reloading their catapult and guns, laughing amongst themselves—until the air grew thick with static. A heavy, suffocating weight pressed down on the street, the distant flickering of the hotel’s neon sign the only warning before a massive tendril shot out, smashing the catapult to pieces.

The loan sharks barely had time to scream before more tendrils erupted from the ground, slicing through them like they were nothing but paper dolls.

Alastor’s laughter rang through the chaos, distorted and wrong. His body grew taller, limbs elongating unnaturally as his smile stretched too wide, his antlers curling into jagged points. His form twisted, pulsing with raw, unfiltered eldritch power as his shadow spread across the pavement. You heard Husk curse next to you in horror, your eyes glancing to the terrified bartender as he crouched beside you.

“A reminder to all,” Alastor’s voice boomed, shaking the very ground beneath them, “not to mess with the Radio Demon!”

The remaining demons screamed, scrambling to retreat, their weapons useless against something so vastly beyond them. Alastor stepped forward out of the archway of the once undamaged doors, unforgiving and unrelenting as he grew in size with every step. His eyes turn into two red radio dials floating in dark pools of shadow, his radio staff puny compared to his now gigantic form.

“I will devour each and every one of you,” he broadcasted from his unmoving smile, voice rich with unhinged delight.

You winced as you watched your lover start to swallow the mafia members whole, unleashing his stress from today as distant cries of terror fill the hotel. Unfortunately, the broken windows of the lobby did no justice in shielding any of your eyes from the chaos outside, resulting in you having to grossly look away at the gore happening in front of you.

Angel Dust watches beside you, shaking his head as he’s mesmerized by the scene. “I can’t believe you date this guy.”

Your chest huffs in an attempt to laugh, groaning softly as you hear Charlie and Lucifer arguing in the background. The hotel was filled with the sound of family drama and cannibalism, yet somehow that seemed to be even better than the sound of Mimzy’s grating voice cheering Alastor on.

After a mere few seconds, the battlefield was silent save for the faint crackling of embers and the distant, gurgling groans of the last unlucky gangsters who had met their demise at The Radio Demon’s hands. Alastor, now shrinking back into his usual form, let out a sigh of satisfaction, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves.

“Oh, I missed getting to let off steam!” he chirped, his voice dripping with amusement.

The tension in the air hadn’t yet settled when Mimzy emerged from the hotel, peeking out to ensure the coast was clear before prancing toward Alastor with a delighted grin. “Oh, Alastor! What a fantastic show! Bravo! As always. Thanks for helpin’ lil’ old me out of a tough spot, you're always such a pal!”

Before Alastor could respond, a loud crack split the air above you.

Your head snapped up just in time to see a massive chunk of debris from the ruined floor above give way, plummeting toward you and Angel Dust.

“Move!” Angel yelped, grabbing you as the two of you dove aside. The wreckage slammed into the ground where you had been leaning on the wall just seconds before, sending a gust of dust and gravel into the air.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, adrenaline and pain mingling in your veins as you looked up, meeting Alastor’s gaze. His red eyes flickered between you and Mimzy, and for the first time since the carnage began, his smile began to wane as the static in the air crackled with unease.

You weren’t just glaring—you were seething. 

It was a rare sight to see you so angry, your emotions normally hidden well behind your mask of calm, poised indifference. Typically, Alastor would be reveling at the fire blazing within your eyes, delighted to see his darling so full of wrath it made anyone in your line of sight shake in terror. Yet in this instance, as Alastor stared a moment longer, he realized he was technically in your line of sight, along with the blonde flapper next to him who caused this whole mess.

Alastor watched as you narrowed your eyes even more at him, taking a mental picture of your fury to cherish forever. Then, with a slow turn of his head, he set his gaze upon Mimzy, his usually cheerful aura twisting into something cold. He realized Mimzy had been speaking to him, something along the lines of apologizing for the mess—really, he could care less what Mimzy was saying given the full extent of things.

“I think you should go, Mimzy.” His flat voice was devoid of amusement.

Mimzy scoffed, twirling a stray curl of hair between her fingers. “Oh pff, Alastor, you're such a kidder, you! Haha, you are so funny—”

“I mean it.” His voice sharpened, cutting through the tension like a knife. “You deliberately brought danger to this place just to have me clean up your mess. I can’t have that here.”

Mimzy’s smug expression faltered, but she quickly recovered, waving a dismissive hand. “But you love takin’ care of me! What? You don’t actually give a shit about this tacky little place, do ya? Come on. I know you.”

She took a step forward, jabbing a sharp-nailed finger into his chest with every word.

“You heartless son—” poke.

“—of a—” poke.

“—bitch!” poke.

Before she could finish, Alastor caught her wrist in midair, his grip like iron. His smile had all but disappeared.

“I do care about this place.” He let her wrist go, stepping past her to glance where you sat on the ground in the hotel, still nursing your injury. His fingers twitched, desperate to shadow next to you, but he simply clenched his twitching hand into a fist. “And more than that, I care about her.”

Mimzy’s face twisted in disbelief. “What?”

Alastor’s eyes sideglanced at Mimzy, his voice laced with something genuine. “I am madly devoted to her. And I refuse to let anyone—anyone—disrespect her. Especially under my roof.” His eyes flickered with finality as he fully turned back to Mimzy. “So unless you plan on giving a damn well and sincere apology to her, you are no longer welcome here.”

Mimzy stood there, mouth agape, before scoffing dramatically and throwing her arms up. “Well, fine! Who needs ya?! Have fun with ya little sweetheart and ya little hotel. See if I care!”

With one last huff, she stomped off, disappearing into the distance.

The moment she was gone, Alastor turned back to the hotel, his sharp gaze softening with concern as his eyes landed on you. Everyone in the lobby had seen this little fiasco unravel, Husk, Sir Pentious, and Angel all sharing snacks as they hummed in appreciation at the drama. You simply sat on the ground a few feet away as he appeared in front of you, his shadow curling around your ankle as it stared up in worry from the floor. Alastor crouched down, his fingers ghosting over your wound, his usual devil-may-care attitude completely absent.

“You should have listened to me,” you muttered, still glaring, though your voice had lost some of its edge.

Alastor winced, his breath hitching at the exhaustion laced in your voice. His fingers twitched against yours, his usual bravado faltering for just a moment. He averted his gaze, as if the sight of your pain was too much even for him, before forcing himself to meet your eyes again.

"Yes… I see that now." His hand finally rested over yours, pressing lightly against the wound as if to assure himself that you were still there. “I was wrong. I should have listened to you from the start. I was too… preoccupied.”

You raised a skeptical brow. “Too prideful.”

He let out a soft, breathy chuckle. “That, too.”

A moment of silence stretched between you before Alastor finally sighed, something deeply regretful in his expression. “I’m… truly, truly sorry, mon cœur. I should have protected you. I will make this up to you.” His voice lowered, his fingers gently lacing with yours. “Just… tell me how. Anything you ask for is yours, even though it was already yours before this whole incident occured today.”

You sighed, the tension in your body slowly easing, though not entirely. A part of you still wanted to stay angry, to let him sweat a little longer, but exhaustion tugged at your limbs. The ache in your side throbbed as if reminding you that you had bigger things to worry about. Still, you weren’t ready to let him off the hook so easily, exhaling deeply once more as you spoke. “You owe me, Al.”

His grin returned, softer this time—devoid of its usual mischief, holding only sincerity. “Then I shall spend every waking moment treating you the way you deserve. Like royalty, my love.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the tiny smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Damn right you will.”

Alastor chuckled, finally helping you to your feet as you rejoined the group. His grip was firm, steadying you a little too carefully, his fingers lingering at your waist even after you were standing upright. His usual boundless energy seemed restrained, his eyes flickering over your wounds before he forced his smile to remain in place. You could tell—he was still shaken, even if he’d never admit it.

You watched as Niffty scurried around the hotel, eager to clean up the damage. It seemed like Charlie and Lucifer had made up, your anger at today’s events lessening ever so slightly as you watched the two. Even Husk, Angel Dust, and Sir Pentious had seemed to be helping clean up, even if Vaggie was yelling at them to do it.

As Alastor wrapped a careful arm around you, leading you toward a more comfortable place to rest on one of the less damaged couches, he leaned down, whispering just for you to hear.

“I do love you, you know.”

Your heart fluttered, but you played it cool, nudging him in the ribs. “You better.”

His smile widened, his head lowering to give you a hidden kiss behind your ear as he paused for a moment. “I’m sorry you got hurt… because of me.”

You hum slightly at his display of vulnerability, your own mouth morphing into a soft smile. “You’re an idiot, but,” You pause, closing the distance between you as you rub his head with yours, “I love you as well.”

And despite the pain, despite the chaos, despite everything—you knew he would spend the rest of his afterlife making sure he never let his pride come before you again.

[sodavizz]

— Christmas Won't Be The Same Without You.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Pairing: Daisuke x GN! Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff again :3

Wc: 1.3k+

Author's Note: Tadaa!! It's almost Christmas time baby! I'm super duper excited as it is already half of November!! Are you all ready to celebrate it, cause I sure am!

The snow was falling softly outside, coating the world in a blanket of white. The small town where Daisuke had grown up was quiet, the streets lined with festive lights and decorations. Inside his parents' house, however, there was nothing quiet about it. The living room was alive with the hum of Christmas music playing softly in the background, the scent of pine and cinnamon filling the air, and the soft crackle of a fire burning in the hearth. It was the perfect Christmas setting, and you were sharing it with Daisuke.

“Can you believe it?” Daisuke said, his voice full of excitement as he stood beside you in the entryway. His eyes sparkled with that familiar joy you adored. “Christmas at my parents’ house. I'm sure they're just as excited you are to meeting each other!”

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through you as he took your hand, pulling you into the house. “I’m really happy to be here with you, Daisuke. This place feels so… cozy.”

His grin widened. “It’s definitely cozy. And my mom’s cooking is legendary, so get ready for some serious holiday feasting. You might not even have room for dessert by the end of the night.”

You laughed, feeling your stomach growl at the thought of what awaited. You’d heard a lot about Daisuke’s mom’s cooking, but this would be your first time tasting it. You could already smell the roast turkey and baked goods wafting from the kitchen.

The house was warm, full of life, and adorned with decorations that felt like they had been carefully placed with love. Christmas stockings hung from the mantle above the fireplace, each one bearing a name stitched in gold thread, and a grand tree stood in the corner, its branches weighed down with ornaments, tinsel, and fairy lights. The atmosphere was peaceful but bustling, with Daisuke’s parents—his mother in a festive red apron and his father pulling drinks from the fridge—filling the space with energy and laughter.

Daisuke led you to the living room where his family was already gathered. His parents, always warm and welcoming, greeted you with open arms.

“Ah, there you are, so you're the one my son keeps going on and on about!” His mother beamed as he mumbled something to her, seeming embarrassed she would expose him about that. She then stepped forward to give you a hug. “We’ve been waiting for you both. Everything’s ready for dinner, but we can always add more if you’re hungry before the big meal!”

“You must be starving after the drive!” his father added with a grin, holding out a glass of eggnog. “Don’t be shy, help yourself.”

You chuckled and accepted the drink, glancing over at Daisuke, who was practically glowing in his own way, standing close by with a proud smile.

“You must be excited to have us here,” you teased.

He nodded eagerly. “Are you kidding? I’ve been counting down the days to Christmas here with you and my family. I think I’ve spent almost every Christmas here since I was a kid, and this time it’s even better because you’re with me.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. There was something about being here, in the warmth of his family’s home, surrounded by love, that made everything feel like it was falling into place.

“I’m really happy to be here, too,” you said softly, meeting his gaze. “It feels so... right.”

Daisuke grinned and reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before turning to his parents. “I think it’s time for us to get the party started! We still need to do the Secret Santa exchange, and I’m pretty sure everyone’s excited for that.”

His mom laughed. “Oh yes, we can’t forget about that! We all got something special this year, so I hope everyone’s ready for a little holiday fun.”

Dinner was a true feast. The table was piled high with everything you could imagine—roast turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, roasted vegetables, and an assortment of freshly baked rolls. In the center, a large cranberry sauce dish sat alongside platters of sweet potatoes and baked brussels sprouts. Daisuke’s mom had clearly outdone herself, and as you dug into your meal, you could tell that everyone was savoring each bite.

Between mouthfuls, you shared stories with Daisuke’s family, laughing and chatting about everything from your childhood traditions to more recent adventures. Daisuke’s dad was particularly fond of telling embarrassing stories about Daisuke when he was little, which had everyone in stitches. Daisuke, for his part, seemed unbothered by it all, even joining in with some of his own stories about his mischievous younger days.

But it wasn’t just the food or the laughter that made this night feel special—it was the way Daisuke kept glancing at you with that soft, affectionate look in his eyes, the way his hand would subtly brush against yours under the table, or how he’d pull you close during moments when no one was looking, as if to remind you that this was your time together.

--

After dinner, Daisuke insisted on taking you outside to see the backyard, which, as it turned out, had a stunning view of the town covered in snow. The Christmas lights from nearby houses reflected off the snow, creating a soft, magical glow that made the night feel like something out of a holiday movie.

“Come here,” Daisuke said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and guiding you to the porch. “This is one of my favorite parts of Christmas—just looking out over the snow. My family used to come out here every Christmas Eve when I was younger and just… enjoy the peace.”

You stood with him, watching the snow fall gently, the cool air brushing against your skin. His presence beside you, his warmth, was enough to make everything feel even more magical.

“I never imagined I’d get to spend Christmas like this,” you murmured, leaning into him. “It’s been perfect.”

Daisuke smiled down at you, his fingers threading through yours as he pulled you a little closer. “I’ve been looking forward to this for so long, just to share it all with you. Christmas is better when you’re with the people you love, and that’s all I want for us.”

You leaned up to kiss him, the moment soft, gentle, and full of meaning. When you pulled away, Daisuke’s face was alight with happiness, his eyes sparkling.

“Merry Christmas, the most beautiful person I've ever seen,” he said softly.

You chuckled at his compliment as you stared deeply into his eyes in an, oh such affectionate way.

“Merry Christmas, Handsome,” you whispered back.

Later, as the evening drew on, everyone gathered around the tree for the Secret Santa exchange. You’d gotten Daisuke’s mom, and after some playful teasing, she opened the gift you’d picked out—a beautiful hand-knitted scarf, which she immediately wrapped around her neck with a delighted laugh. Then, Daisuke gave you your gift, a small box wrapped with care. When you opened it, you found a delicate silver bracelet with a charm that read together, a reminder of how far you’d come and how much you meant to each other.

You blinked back tears as you hugged him, your heart swelling with gratitude. “I love it, Daisuke. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, his voice full of affection as he kissed your forehead. “This is just the beginning of our holiday together. I want to make this Christmas the best one yet.”

As the evening wound down, the two of you snuck off to a quiet corner of the living room, away from the laughter and chatter, to enjoy each other’s company in peace. With the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights surrounding you, Daisuke wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

“This is all I ever wanted,” he whispered, his voice full of love. “To be with you, here, now.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his family, the love between you, and the gentle snowfall outside, you knew he was right. It didn’t matter where you were, as long as you were together.

“Merry Christmas, Daisuke,” you whispered, kissing him again.

“Merry Christmas,” he replied, smiling softly, his heart as full as yours.

[respectthepetty]

Pit Babe 2 Colors - Ep. 3

I'm watching the second season of Pit Babe on mute with no subtitles and double-speed just like I did the first season, yet I had no clue this was Charles in the Chocolate Factory because I have no idea what the actor actually looks like without glasses. He Clark Kent-ed me!

And so did this one! I know he played in Long Beans, but I hadn't noticed he was in this show ince he doesn't have glasses! Has he been here the whole time? He is in blue, so he should be good, pero . . . I trust no one this season.

Except Christopher! I trust him completely. He has sass, and he is Waymond with amnesia, so how could I not trust him?

But, truly, from an aesthetic perspective, everyone was serving sass this episode. Or as the French say, "le cunt," because Jeffery is saying something, and the looks he is getting in response are fantastic. My always-handsome-and-gorgeous Alan looks dumbfounded, Charles is looking at his buddy like even he can't go along on this clown journey, and Peter looks like he wants to fight him in a Texas Chicken parking lot.

Then Southwest Airlines is off somewhere in this scene wearing PURPLE, but Vegas' Hedgehog is wearing this little number with white, denim, and a huge ass HEART ON HIS CHEST like he is in a competition at the gay rodeo, and even he looks like he is ready to slap Jeffrey.

But I trust whatever Jeffrey is telling them because he is the ONLY one to be consistently in blue this season with his bosom buddy Charles, so regardless of what he told the squad, I'm going to defend this Blue Boy in the making.

WHAT THE FUCK, JEFFREY! I was just rooting for you! Why are you wearing green?! It's not a bad color; it's just not blue! Are you pregnant? Is that why you are wearing green? Is it like a gender reveal, but for Omegaverse? Red is for an Alpha, Blue is for Beta, and Green is for the Holy Spirit Omega? Alan will make a great dad. He has already raised a team of racers.

Unlike this shitty father! Anthony, why are you alive?! Playing with dead animals is a little to heavy-handed, sir. We get it! You've been bringing dead things back to life (like yourself, Waymond, and Dean???). But why did you let Kentana go? He killed you? Unless you wanted him to be free because that's part of your plan . . .

Because although Whiny Winifred is committed to Team Evil, he is no Kentana. Anthony, you crazy bitch, what's the angle here?

Because I, once again, do not think William is a threat since he brought a sunflower to Barbie which symbolizes friendship, happiness, and loyalty, and he ate the oranges, which bring luck and a sense of sharing.

BUT WHY THE FUCK DID HE JUST MOVE SO QUICKLY?!

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Charles, we know that you are strategically placed in between William and Barbara to show that you are the true barrier between them, but WILLIAM JUST MOVED VERY FUCKING FAST AND IS THAT HIS POWER?! I thought he was blocking or amplifying other people's powers, but is this bitch the true Sonic the Hedgehog here?!

Now these two are standing in the dark when they could just move over a foot and be IN THE LIGHT! Why must we exist in such dark places this season? Do none of you want to be happy?!

*Kentana's dark ass has entered the chat* Well, I guess that's a "no" then considering Kentana showed up at Peter's place and they didn't make out about it. Waymond is "dead" and Peter still won't let Kentana on second base. The tragedy!

And, of course, Team Evil, with its red lights, is experimenting on people and killing them in the process. Unless, that is part of the process, so Anthony can bring them back to life?

WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING RED, ALAN?! YOUR MAN IS PREGNANT! YOU CANNOT GO TO THE DARK SIDE!

I won't panic just yet because Black Brooder Barbie is in black boxers and Blue Boy Charles is in blue boxer, and there is some light in their black bathroom, so not all hope is lost. Alan could just be upset about something else not at all related to Team Evil.

Because Jeffrey is still blue, and Dean is . . . also blue and not evil, so . . . uh, WHY WAS ALAN WEARING RED?!

And why won't Peter just make out with Kentana so that barrier between them can go away?! He killed your shitty father. He deserves some under-the-shirt action!

Thank goodness Southwest Airlines made it out of the purple sweatshirt only to wear a blue cardigan and a shirt with RED TEXT ON IT! I officially hate this episode. Too much red, no Kimberly, and no kisses. Why must I suffer?

Even Vegas' Hedgehog, in white, seems perturbed. What is his deal? Why is he so light? Is he an angel coming to save everyone? Or is he devoid of color because he lost his way? Tell me your secrets, you beautiful bitch!

Now Alan is wearing green, Jeffrey is wearing brown, and dark cloud Dean is feeding Jeffery! WHAT IS HAPPENING?! Did Jeffrey tell people he was pregnant and Alan didn't take it well, so now Dean is like, "you need to eat for the baby" so he is making sure he eats? On God, I'm about to unblock this tag because between this and William moving fast, I'm freaking out!

AND WHOSE RED CAR IS THAT?! ALAN, WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING, BRO?!

KIMBERLY, SAVE US WITH YOUR BLUE LIGHTING! Peter, move out from between them. You cannot be the barrier that gets in the way of their love. You had your chance to go to third base with Kentana, but you fumbled, so now let Kentana get his reward for stabbing y'alls shitty father. Let my Black Brooder be kissed by a man, and let that man be my Pink Power Ranger!

Okay, without the glasses I know this is Charles because he is blue (color), but I also know something is going wrong because he is blue (sad). I learn quick!

So now that Peter has gotten his ex a new beau, it's time for him to make his move on Waymond Christopher. Christopher is wearing black now instead of white, so I think he is feeling whatever Peter is dropping off, and I don't mean the food.

Vegas' Hedgehog is wearing blue again! I wanna trust him so badly. I don't want him to be bad. I want to trust these two idiots, but Waymond 2.0 is going to kiss a man before these two make out, and I just don't know what secrets they have that are holding them back from making out with each other! Don't be Kentana and Peter. Don't aim for first base when you could have a home run!

William, and his little gay scooter, will make out with a man before them! AND IT WILL BE WITH CHARLES BECAUSE HE IS LOVE WITH HIM (look at the way he is staring him down as he scoots along).

WILLIAM, WHAT DID YOU DO TO CHARLES?! WHY DID HE GLITCH?! WHY DID HE CRASH? WILLIAM, THIS ISN'T HOW YOU GET A MAN'S ATTENTION!!!!!!

WHAT IS FUCKING HAPPENING?!

[katz-rambles]

Hellooo again lovely writer ! This is a new day, so it means I have a new idea for you ;)

How about reader and one of the ghoul (your choice) being forced to shared a bed ? And now, what if reader had a spicy dream during the night and woke the ghoul sleeping next to her with her moans ? How would they react? 👀

The one-bed-trope, some forced proximity and a sprinkle of unresolved sexual tension, how could it go wrong !

Yess! I love the one bed trope smm. This may not be very good as I'm exhausted, haha. I chose Sodo/Dewdrop because this just seemed fitting for him.

1.1k words

(nsfw, wet dream, fingering, PiV, squirting, cumming inside, aftercare,)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

Sharing a room with someone, that's not too bad. You're not a stranger to sharing rooms with people, just not a room with one bed, especially not with someone you can't stop thinking about. You've read this in romance books but when it happens in real life you want to scream. This is not going as planned.

“There's only one bed,” You groan and place your bag on the floor, looking around for a couch or something that you could sleep on.

“Aww, you don't want to be close to me?” Sodo teases you, a smirk on his lips. You already know this is going to be a long night. You're tempted to pick your bag up and throw it right in his smug face.

“No,” You sigh and glare at him. You're already done with his shit and it's not even midnight yet. You stare at the bed and, for a second, you hope you can somehow mitosis the bed into creating another one. Yet it never does. Maybe you can trade rooms with someone, but everyone else is probably already asleep or trying to get to sleep so it would be pointless to try.

“Well, sweetheart, if you're not going to then I'm going to shower. No peeking,” Sodo snickers and goes into the bathroom. Maybe you will throw your bag at him. The water turning on pulls you from your thoughts, now you have to wait until he's done to get into more comfortable clothes, great.

—

The bed is a lot softer than you thought it would have been, for a shitty motel that is. You're laying on the bed on your stomach scrolling mindlessly on your phone when you feel the bed dip beside you. When you look over at Sodo you immediately regret it, not because he's ugly or anything, but because you're afraid you won't be able to look away, he's wearing some lose pajama bottoms and a thin shirt that basically leaves nothing to the imagination, his blonde hair is down and still damp from his shower that perfectly complements his charcoal skin. For a second you don't want to look away, trying to forever have this image in your head.

“Take a picture, sweetheart, it'll last longer,” He smirks when you realize you've been caught, he's enjoying watching you stumble over your words to find a response. “Shut up,” You snap at him, but your voice isn't harsh enough for you to actually be mad. You turn off your phone and pull the covers over yourself, the heat radiating from Sodo is enough to cook you alive so you ditch the idea and take them off almost as quick as you put them on. Thankfully, sleep comes quickly to you tonight.

—

“So good for me.. fuck.. so tight too,” Sodo growls into your ear and his thrusts don't stop or slow down. His face is buried in your neck and he groans when he feels you clench around him. You reach up to tug on his hair and he moans into your neck when you do. His hand goes down to rub your clit and he almost whines.

“Fuck! Sodo, please don't stop!” You cry and your back arches slightly, your hips move to try and match his unrelenting pace. You can feel the coil in your core getting tighter and tighter, and just as it's about to snap you get woken up to the feeling of being shook.

You're panting and you rub your eyes when you're fully conscious. “What?” You groan and look over at Sodo, internally hoping you didn't make any noise or you'll be done for. Your next words get caught in your throat when you fully take in his current appearance, he definitely heard you, his pupils are blown wide and he's biting his bottom lip, there's a bit of sweat on his forehead that causes some of his hair to stick to it, even through the darkness of the room you can make out the bulge in his pants.

“Sorry to wake you, but I can't help myself,” He groans and moves his face closer to yours, in a second you reach up and pull him down to kiss him. If you weren't already turned on, you are now. He grinds his erection onto your thigh and he pants into the kiss. When he breaks it you both know what to do, you grab your shirt and pull it off as he does the same, and he helps you get off your shorts and panties and he kisses you once again.

“Already.. so… wet,” He gasps between kisses and presses a finger into your folds and teases your clit. You whimper and he smirks and eagerly kisses your neck. You run your fingers through his hair and tug gently, this elicits a noise from Sodo that could make you cum on the spot. He presses a finger inside you and starts to pump them in and out, curling them up to press your sweet spot and you moan, a little too loud but neither of you care right now. He brings his head back up to your lips and kisses you again, he pulls his pants and boxers down and thrusts into you.

“Oh fuck. Does it feel as good as it did in your little dream?” He chuckles when you whine and turn your head away. “Shut up and fuck me.” You groan and he complies, his thrusts are deep and quick, yet he manages to find your sweet spot once again.

With every thrust his pelvis grinds against your clit causing you to moan.

“So fuckin’ tight..” He growls and grabs your thighs to lift them up around his waist, getting deeper than before. You can feel your orgasm approaching and from the moan he lets out so can he. Your walls tighten around him and he whines at the feeling. You can feel a gush of wetness from the noises he's making, you both already know that the rest of the band is going to kill you both from the noises you two are making but you both couldn't care less. You reach down to rub your clit and you feel the coil in your core get tighter.

“Fuck! Sodo.. please ‘m close,” You whimper through your pants and he speeds his thrusts up a bit, determined to make you cum. You wrap your legs around him and pull him closer to you and you feel a gush of wetness when you cum and he moans when you do. His thrusts don't slow as he gets closer and he cums deep inside you.

You're both panting and sweaty when he falls on top of you. “That was better than the dream,” You both laugh and he rolls off you. “Let's get cleaned up,” He picks you up and brings you to the bathroom.

Let's just say that the rest of the band will make sure you and Sodo never share a room again.

[tonyspank]

STARGAZING

Warnings: fluff, a bit of smut, reader has leg & back tattoos, and reader calls donuts overrated LOL

Reader also has a pp 😱

Summary: You finally hang out with Jenna off duty.

Every weekday morning was the same. You'd wake up, go to the station, talk to some of your fellow officers, maybe even your captain, then stop at the same café. You'd order the same coffee and pastry, and sit down at the same table, with the same company.

Jenna was wonderful company too. Her eyes would light up whenever you walked through the door, uniform on and everything. It was your own little ritual, one that you looked forward to every day. You'd talk about your days, your hopes, and your ambitions.

It was a sense of comfort, one that you could always count on. You could tell that Jenna was always genuinely happy to see you. That smile that you grew to love over the past year would never leave her face when you were near.

You shared a special bond with Jenna that was unlike any other, regardless if you only hung out at the café. It was like home. You'd come in the morning, or afternoon for lunch, maybe even stop by before clocking out.

"Here's your breakfast bagel and coffee, just how you like it." You look away from the window, Jenna grins, placing down your food. "Thank you." You both exchange a look, and you can't help but smile at the girl in front of you.

Jenna sits down across from you, resting her hand on her hands as you take a bite of the bagel, savoring the taste and everything that it represents. "Aren't cops supposed to eat donuts? Not bagels?" You smirk and take a sip of coffee. "Donuts are overrated," you reply, then take another bite of the bagel.

Jenna laughs. "I guess you have a point," she says. "So, how's Chris?" You snort at the question. You had told Jenna about how another officer had to go on a two-week break due to the fact that Chris had broken his butt bone. Jenna laughs at you, her smile widening even more.

"He was in a lot of pain but he's doing better now." Jenna shakes her head, still laughing. "Have you ever seen anyone break their butt bone before?" You ask, still chuckling. Jenna shakes her head. "Nope, can't say I have."

You both laugh, still, in disbelief at the situation Chris had gotten himself into.

Chris had a good sense of humor about it, though, and it was relieving to have a good laugh about it. You both shared a moment of understanding, knowing that accidents happen and it could have been any of you.

You take a sip of your coffee, nearly moaning at the taste. "Your coffee completely beats the Starbucks I had yesterday." Jenna smiles but lets out a dramatic gasp, "You went to Starbucks and not here? I'm honestly hurt!" You laugh and take another sip, "Your coffee's better, I promise. I'll never make that mistake again."

"Good, you know I take good care of you." You smile, feeling the warmth of the coffee and the warmth of her words. "I know you do," you reply. She smiles back and the two of you sit in comfortable silence. After a few minutes, you finish up your bagel, crumbling the trash up.

"What do you do when you're not saving the city?" Jenna asks randomly. You pause for a moment, taken aback by her question. You take a sip of your coffee before responding, "I uh, just walk around...maybe hang out at home, why?"

Jenna shrugs. "Just curious. It seems like you're always in your uniform. It's nice to hear you take some time to relax." You smile, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Yeah...I guess I just like the feeling of doing something meaningful."

You then pause, thinking about how to word your next sentence. "It makes me feel like I'm doing something with my life."

Jenna nods in understanding. "I get it. Everyone needs a purpose to feel fulfilled." You take a deep breath. "I don't feel like I'm drifting anymore." Jenna smiles. "That's great. You've found something that makes you feel alive, and that's all that matters." You smile, subconsciously grabbing Jenna's hand that rests on the table.

"Maybe tomorrow we could hang out and relax together." Jenna nods, squeezing your hand. "I'd like that. Now I can finally see you outside of your uniform." You nod in agreement, the two of you still smiling.

You both laugh, and you feel your heart swell. Your shared laughter is infectious, and you can't help but feel a sense of joy and warmth spread through your chest.

You look into each other's eyes, your smiles still lingering on your faces. You feel an unspoken understanding between the two of you, a connection that you can't explain.

You clear your throat, letting go of the girl's hand and start gathering your stuff. "Well, I gotta go save the city now. I'll um...I'll pick you up tomorrow from work. What time do you get off?"

She smiles and says, "I get off at three. I'll be waiting for you." You nod at her words, sending a small smile. With one last glance, you turn and walk away, leaving her standing there, still smiling.

You were right on time, three o'clock on the dot, waiting for Jenna outside of the café. Jenna emerged from the café, a smile still lighting up her face. You got off your motorcycle, taking off your helmet. You waved to Jenna, who waved back. "No! I wanted to ride in the police cruiser!" Jenna teased you as she brought you into a hug.

You laughed and hugged her back. "Maybe next time," you said as you mounted your motorcycle. You pulled Jenna onto the back of your bike and handed her your helmet. She gave you a tight squeeze, then put the helmet on.

You felt her arms wrap around your waist as you started the engine and drove off the wind buffeted you as you travelled, and you felt Jenna's embrace tighten with each passing mile.

You pulled up to your destination, and Jenna hopped off the back of the bike. "Where are we?" She questioned, looking around at the greeny area.

You smiled at her and said, "This is my secret spot. I wanted to share it with you." Jenna's face lit up with joy as she looked around, taking in the beauty of the place. You held out your hand, and she took it before looking up at you with a smile. "C'mon, I set up a picnic."

You led Jenna down the path, and soon you arrived at the clearing with the picnic set up. Jenna was amazed, and you smiled as you watched her in admiration. "This is insane." Jenna turned to you with a look of awe. "How did you do this?" she asked.

You simply smiled and replied, "It's my pleasure. A return for your wonderful company and coffee this past year."

Jenna smiled and hugged you tightly. You enjoyed the moment, feeling content and grateful for the friendship you had built. When she pulled away you gestured her to sit, joining her shortly after and reaching inside the basket.

You pulled out a container of fruit, sandwiches, and a bottle of sparkling cider. She laughed, delighted by the surprise. "I am... astonished... honestly."

You laugh before raising your glass. "To Jenna's amazing coffee and bagels!" She smiled and raised her glass to yours, clinking them together. "To my coffee and bagels," she said, and you both took a sip.

You both shared a laugh and put your glasses down. Jenna looked at you and said, "I didn't know you had tattoos." You chuckled glancing at your legs, "Yeah, I usually have to cover them for work. I also have one on my back."

Jenna smiled and said, "Really? Can I see?" You nod in response. Jenna quickly gets up, kneeling behind you. She gently moved your shirt and her eyes widened. "That's a really awesome design."

You smile and reply, "Thanks." Her hands begin tracing the tattoo and you can't help but shiver from her touch. You turn your head slightly, meeting Jenna's face as she places her hands on your shoulder, her face only inches away from yours.

"It looks so good on you." You blush and thank her again. She gets up, moving back to her original spot. She smiles. "I'm really glad you decided to get it. It suits you."

You nod in agreement, feeling a warmth inside that you hadn't felt in a long time. "Could you pass me a grape?" Jenna reaches into the fruit container, a grab in her hand. "Catch it."

You open your mouth, trying to fight back a smile. "You think I won't catch it? I was pro at this in high school."

The grape flew in the air, and you caught it, your reflexes still sharp. You grinned in satisfaction, and Jenna clapped her hands in surprise. "That was impressive!" she exclaimed.

"Here you try." Jenna hands you the container before preparing herself to catch the grape. You took a grape from the container and threw it up in the air. Jenna's reflexes were still a bit rusty, but she managed to catch it with her hands.

"Cheater! You gotta catch it with your mouth." You quickly grabbed another grape, throwing it at Jenna, unfortunately, it fell short. Jenna tried her best to catch it, but it was too late. "Damnit!" She laughs, her hands resting on your thighs.

She pouted playfully. "I feel like a loser." You shake your head, keeping your eyes on her as you reach into the container for a strawberry.

"Here's a reward for trying." You hold out the strawberry to hand it to her, but instead, she bites it from your hand, her eyes on you the entire time.

She lets out a small moan at the sweet taste of the berry, dramatically rolling her eyes. "So good." Her own hands reach into the container, picking out a strawberry. "Try one."

You couldn't even protest before she holds the strawberry to your lips, her left hand still resting on your thigh. You take a bite, the juice of the strawberry running down the corner of your mouth.

She gently wipes it away with her thumb, her eyes never leaving yours. You can't help but blush at her closeness. "Mmm..." You hum, nodding your head, approving of the taste. She smiles at your reaction, her hand still lingering on your thigh.

Her eyes leave yours, moving to your thigh. "Did this one hurt?" She asks, her finger tracing over the tattoo on your upper thigh. You take a deep breath, feeling her gentle touch. "A bit," you reply, your voice barely audible. She nods, giving you a reassuring smile.

She pauses for a moment, her eyes locked on yours. "Jenna..." you whisper out, swallowing the lump in your throat. She nods, telling you to go on. "Can I kiss you?" Again, she nods, causing you to smile. You lift your hand to caress her cheek before closing the distance and pressing your lips to hers.

You feel her arms wrap around your neck, her breathing becoming more shallow. She parted her lips slightly, deepening the kiss. You felt like you could stay there forever, lost in the moment. You eventually pull away, both of you breathless. You smile at her, and she smiles back, her cheeks blushing.

You both laugh nervously, and she leans her forehead against yours. You stare into each other's eyes for a few moments, feeling a connection that was unexpected yet undeniable. You stay like that for a while, just enjoying the moment and savoring the feeling.

"Fuck the police?" She mumbles, biting down on her lip. You can't help but chuckle. "Fuck the police."

And fuck the police was she doing. "Shit, Jenna..." You whine out, grabbing her hips. She grins, pushing you back onto the bed. "You know you love it," She says, her lips curving into a smirk.

She moves her hips, and you gasp, lost in the moment. You grip her hips and pull her closer, letting out a moan as she continues her movements. "Fuck me."

"I am, baby." She laughs before letting out a loud moan. "You're so big, fuck." Her hand moves from your core to your thigh, and her movements become faster and more intense, pushing you closer to the edge.

She's clearly enjoying the experience, her movements are becoming more passionate as your pleasure intensifies. You can feel her desire to bring you to the peak of pleasure and you give in to it, letting her take you there.

"I'm cumming!" She yells out, her grip on your thigh tightening. Her back arches as she rides you, her muscles tense as her orgasm takes over her body. You can feel her body shudder against yours as she comes down from her high and collapses against your chest. You wrap your arms around her, before flipping her over on her back.

You start to move inside of her again, your movements slow and gentle. She moans softly, her eyes half open, her breathing heavy. You kiss her gently, your lips lingering at the moment as you both enjoy the sensations of being together. She wraps her arms around you and pulls you closer, her fingers tracing circles on your back, over your tattoo.

She looks up at you, her eyes full of love and desire, and you know she'll remember this moment forever. You kiss her again, this time more passionately and with more urgency. You both know there's no need to rush; the night is still young and you both have all the time in the world.

You begin trailing kissing down her neck as your hips move slowly against hers, her breathing becoming heavier as her hands grip your shoulders. You whisper in her ear softly, "You feel so good, Jen."

She moans in response, her fingers running through your hair as you press your lips against her collarbone. You feel her body quiver beneath you as your hands travel down her curves. Finally, you meet her gaze, and she smiles.

"Faster, Y/N..." she whines, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. You comply, increasing your movements, and soon she's clinging onto you, her breath coming out in short gasps. "Yes, fuck." You can feel her body quivering beneath you, her grip on your shoulders tightening with each thrust. She screams out your name, her head thrown back in pleasure as you hit the right spot.

"Right there, shit. I'm about to cum again." You continue to move inside her, your body responding to her every whim. You lean down, your lips seeking hers as you both reach the peak of pleasure together.

She cries out your name, her voice low and husky as she comes down again, her eyes closed and a satisfied smile playing on her lips. You collapse onto her, both of you panting and sweaty as you bask in the afterglow.

You stay like that for a few moments before you reluctantly pull away, looking into her eyes with love and admiration. You give her a gentle kiss on the forehead, a silent promise of more to come before you both drift off into a peaceful sleep.

It was now morning time and you leaned against Jenna's kitchen counter, sipping on a mug of coffee she made for you as she took in your features.

She smiled lovingly at you before speaking up. "I could get used to this. You just walk around my place in your underwear, showing off your body and tattoos."

You chuckled, feeling a warmth inside your chest that made you feel like you were home. You grabbed her hand and pulled her close, pressing your lips against hers. "Me too." You placed another kiss on her lips before pulling away.

"Hungry?" She smiled and nodded. You stood up and began walking to the fridge, but Jenna stopped you. "No, baby. I'm hungry for you." Your eyebrows raise in surprise, "Oh."

[merethessc]

OP your headcanon about Edgeworth intentionally growing his front bangs out to hide his ears when they blush is EXTREMELY adorable. immaculate. Do you have any other headcanons you’d like to share?

Have a good day.

Yesss OMG hIIIII! im so glad you asked anon!!!! I’VE WANTED TO TALK ABOUT THEM FOR SOOO LONG

HC list because I’m crazy (i apologise that they’re pretty much all about the same topic)

(Healthy and working) Wrightworth is only possible during and after SOJ just because both are at the place in their life and mental journey where they'd be able to form an actual working romantic relationship. 

Wright didn't realize that his feelings for Edgeworth were romantic for a pretty long time (I'd say for about aa2-aa3 time). He knew he loved him, sure, but he loves and cares for Maya and Pearls too, Larry to an extent too. He both didn't bother and didn't care hard enough to look deeper into that feeling, he knew he cared about him and that was basically it. Phoenix is “I'm probably bi, but I have a job so idrc about it rn” in my book. And his feelings did start to fade after awhile. ((before of course getting reignited again)) 

Hot take: I dooon't think Miles is ace/autistic. I just think he is THAT dense. Or maybe has some form of personality disorder. His favorite pastime is yearning. (Please Investigations and him mentioning Wright any chance he gets… “everything reminds me of him”)

Missile is alive and well, retired and lives with Gumshoe during SOJ and beyond. Otherwise I'm hurting everyone and myself. 

Maya wrote steel samurai fanfiction during aa trilogy, and since she has a limited circle of male friends a lot of mannerisms for Steel Samurai she took from Nick. Miles, not knowing the author deeply enjoyed those fics and would genuinely start tweaking out anytime Phoenix did something that alined with Steel Samurai’s quirks, thinking that SOMEHOW Phoenix knew abt those fics and purposely tried to tease him about it. Nick, in fact, did not know anything.

Iris was just as crazy and incredibly supportive of Phoenix’s idea to study law, hoping he would be able to save his friend from going down the wrong path, like she could never stop her sister.

Trucy has crippling separation anxiety. She was so afraid when the whole office decided to go to Khura'in thinking she would be left behind again, this time for good. She was DEVASTATED.  

^ To add to this, Edgeworth knew she came along and agreed to basically play along, thinking that trial shouldn't be THAT bad. The second guards entered and held Apollo and Phoenix at gunpoint, he held her close and covered her eyes. 

Existential crisis for Edgeworth since he's now the age at which his father died. His nightmares resurface again but now in a different form, where he's not too comfortable spending time in elevators with a certain defence attorney and his kid. 

During his lowest disbarment moments, after trials that Miles invited him to assist on, Wright would throw out “I don't have any enemies on the prosecution side and I take stairs” anytime Edgeworth would ask him NOT to bring Trucy to court. 

Similar thing with  Maya realising she’s outgrown her big sister.

Pearl actually picks up a job at Shipshape Aquarium as a trainer. I really like the idea of her being pretty good, although she almost never does shows because she's uncomfortable with theatrical and performing in that way, but she's great as a side trainer.

Athena and Trucy taught Pearl how to put makeup on, since Maya doesn't use it much. Sahsa taught all three some performance makeup (Which Trucy was SO thankful for, since she had to learn everything by herself.. mostly. )

Maggey and Gumshoe are surprisingly good with kids and at first two months they would babysit Trucy while Wright recuperated, they're the best audience, assistants, participants and hecklers Trucy could ask for. 

 Initially Phoenix wanted to ghost mostly everyone, but could never do it. (he did jokingly ask Edgeworth for “a little advice” on how to, Miles did not take it kindly.) 

 Edgeworth has stupid habit of lightly tapping on his lips with a pen or a pencil whenever he’s thinking. Realised how weird it is when Phoenix lent him his magatama. 

After getting shot and getting visited by Wright, Franziska couldn’t stop crying after she was all alone. To think that a person she thought was her rival and basically an enemy that wouldn’t show her mercy and any pity thrown her way would be an insult - came in with genuine worry and empathy kinda destroyed her. She even felt bad making fun of his visit, not that she’d ever admit it. 

She's also eighteen. Of course she cried when everyone left. 

Wright had to step aside when they discovered the contents of Inga’s safe besides the notepad. Held his locket extra tight.  

Apollo counts EVERY of his honorary siblings as part of the family (that includes Rayfa and Tobaye). Which makes Wright a proud father of a goddamn football team (Trucy, Pearls, Athena, Apollo, Rayfa, Nahyuta, Ema, Tobaye… and that’s not counting Kay and Eustace)

Edgeworth still struggles with turbulence, after SOJ cutscene Phoenix resitted himself next to Miles, closing the window blinds, as to not to spook himself out. It was done both for moral support of Edgeworth and in case he passed out, Phoenix would catch Trucy. 

There was a moment in time where Wright REALLY wanted to blame Trucy for what happend, but he couldn’t. ((maybe like the first few days, just to make things more convoluted)) 

Phoenix doesn’t trust people with his medicine or drinks. He can only take bottled drinks  or the ones that were prepared right in front of him.

Pearl looks a lot like her mother. If not for the hair. 

Trucy and Pearl got their ears pierced together. Maya gifted Pearl Mia's earrings and helped Phoenix pick a pair for Trucy.

NEVER put Datz and Butz at the same place at the same time. And never dare to even THINK of leaving them alone together. 

No amount of convincing will make me believe that either Wright or Edgeworth work out. These bitches have the most average build possible. 

Kay works as a private investigator on the side, letting the wind take her wherever the truth needs to be found and stolen.

The “honorary” children of Edgeworth and Wright + Maya have a groupchat, where they mostly just make fun of those two and share the latest wrightworth news (when those two FINALLY started making moves). They often kick Trucy out of the chat though, because she tends to react to messages out loud. Loud enough to compete with the cords of steel. Especially often the season of kicking and reinviting starts when they're spying on these two. 

Phoenix wears his beanie over eyebrows because they're one of his telltale signs. 

If Klavier annoys Apollo enough and stands close enough, he gets poked in the stomach. 

Apollo gets a small dragon pendant in memory of Dhurke. Tries picking up guitar lessons (Klavier likes to tease him about it, but at the same time is really supportive when needed). Klavier enjoys joking about how he's already met future mother in law (they're not even dating 😭)

Eustace is a pretty successful prosecutor with a clean record (similar to Payne, who I genuinely like, so it's a compliment). Witnesses genuinely adore him and working with him. Pretty ruthless when it comes to finding the truth though. Still aloof, especially outside of the courtroom, he leaves all of his brain cells there. 

During Khura'in investigations Phoenix was deliberately more touchy and clingy with Edgeworth, exclusively to annoy him after that whole "don't tell me you missed me, Edgeworth" and Miles claiming he mellowed down through the years. He doesn't seem too bothered by this however.

Self indulgent, but since neither of them button up their suits anymore, hands go right under them :p

The idiot trio aka Larry, Miles and Phoenix share some mannerisms, they probably don't even notice the similarities, until Gumshoe or Maya point it out.

Bobby's family misses him.

not a headcanon, but i cry everytime i think about Feys. So imagine aa 3-5 with “come” by  Adrianne Lenker and class of 2013 with the Fey daughters  in general and just cry with me

I'm also filled by PixelPartners playthrough specifically, so the dynamics mostly inspired by their takes.

And here's an excuse to post bad doodles from random times  about these hcs. Have a nice day!!!

[tellmegoodbye]

Hello everyone! I wanted to do a bit of a "WIP checkup" in which I share a snippet from all of my wips and update you on how they're going.

This is a queued post. I am currently away on vacation and I will look at all of your posts when I get back!

---

Sports Fic

Title: "the memories we leave behind"

“What are they doing?” Jonah can hardly contain his excitement as he grips the seatback in front of him, giggling as he points down towards the skaters on the ice. They look so small from where they're sitting up in the nosebleeds, but the distance doesn't seem to matter to Jonah, who is seemingly entranced by the game he barely knows anything about. There's a huge smile on his face as he watches every face off, every line change, every shot, clearly trying to decipher everything that's happening. “They're trying to get the puck in the net,” TK explains, pointing to where the New York Rangers are currently swarming the Dallas Stars like bees, their offense fluid and fast paced – as is the nature of the game. “We're rooting against the green team. Remember?”

This fic is a bit on and off again at the moment, but I'm still enjoying writing it! I have no prediction for when it might be finished as it is not a priority at the moment. This snippet is brought to you by a new scene I added, inspired by this headcanon.

Spicy Fic

"Do you want me to take care of you now, my love?" Carlos’ voice drips with adoration, smooth as he speaks slowly, carefully, and commandingly. There's a hint of teasing in his tone that he keeps a tight hold on, always waiting for TK to guide him and tell him what he needs. They don't always do this with the pretense of sex, and tonight certainly wasn't a night where TK was having anything that would even resemble a horny thought, but he feels so light inside of his own body. His blood flows through his veins like honey, desire simmering beneath the surface, but not with purpose. There's no ache. No rush. No need. But TK thinks about these ropes coming off before he can fully silence the darkness, he hears the way Carlos' voice dips and feels the way his body reacts on instinct, and he decides that it doesn't matter. He doesn't just want to hide away in freefall. He wants to float. He wants to feel everything that is good and right and wonderful, and Carlos is clearly willing to help him do that.

This fic still has an incredibly loose outline, but it is my first venture into writing a D/S dynamic and I'm just kind of going with the flow for this one. I hope to finish this one soon, especially since @heartstringsduet has been my biggest cheerleader for this fic and has been giving me endless motivation!

Detective AU / Murder Mystery Fic

The bullpen is smaller than he's used to. The absence of the New York City chaos cycling in and out of the room is evident. The ever-present, steady stream of chaos keeping the building alive on an unstable fuel is muted and mellow in comparison, reflecting the nature of the state of Texas. Slower, calmer – even in its capital city. TK thinks he might just like it here after all.

This one is regrettably, extremely slow moving. I've been putting a lot of pressure on myself for this one because it's an idea I've had for years, and I want to take my time with this. It's definitely overwhelming, and there's no chance of me finishing this in any less than a few months, but I think it will all be worth it in the end!

Super Secret Angsty Fic

Title: "sinking in slow motion"

He attempts to look again, and a sharp pain pierces through his skull like a sleek blade, barely noticeable until it hits him all at once and he has to let his head fall back against the concrete again, wincing at the sudden movement.

It’s no use. He isn’t going to be able to treat himself down here. He runs through the checklist in his head, skipping over what he can’t do and focusing on what he can.

Keep pressure on the wound. Check. Slow down your breathing. Check. Check your heart rate. TK lifts two trembling fingers to the pulse point on his neck, undoubtedly smearing some of his own blood against his skin as he presses down.

Fast, but steady. Check.

This fic is brought to you by The Angst Train, aka the collaboration I'm doing with @certifiedflower and @neversleepuntilfive 👀 who I have immensely enjoyed working with. I'm so excited to finish this and share it with you all for @911lonestarangstweek at the end of the month!

Therapy Fic

“Hey, babe,” TK greets him, his voice faltering when he catches a glimpse of the laptop Carlos so ungraciously tossed to the side when he walked through the door. “What are you reading?” “Nothing,” Carlos says, immediately realizing how unconvincing he sounds. He avoids TK's knowing gaze as he stares towards the ground. TK slowly comes towards him and sits next to him on the couch, close enough to be there, but putting enough distance between them so that Carlos can decide whether or not he wants to have TK in his space right now. “Well that wasn't suspicious at all.”

I admittedly have not worked on this one in a while. I can't even remember if I've shared this snippet before. I don't think I have, but if I did I apologize. I'll get back to this one once I get some of these other wips finished.

S1 Carlos Fic

Images of the man who laid in his bed for the first time, his silver medallion stark against his heaving chest – a symbol of his family from before, begin circling Carlos’ mind as he slowly digests the gravity of such a revelation. He isn't as close with his own father as TK is with Owen, but he couldn't even imagine the pit in his stomach that would open up if he were to learn that his dad had cancer. “I'm sorry, TK,” is all he can think to say. He knows it can't help much, but he hopes it's enough. He hopes he can offer some sense of peace for someone who's gaze he can't seem to escape, his eyes brimming with tears that threaten to fall, Carlos’ dim porch light reflecting off of shimmering green oceans. TK looks about as lost as Carlos feels, his weary figure standing against the backdrop of the night sky and empty streets. His vulnerability is vast, and Carlos aches to protect it.

This fic is also low priority, and since it is essentially a collection of moments throughout season 1, this one is probably going to take me a while to write.

Tagging: @strandnreyes @paperstorm @bonheur-cafe @lemonlyman-dotcom @carlos-in-glasses @ironheartwriter @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @literateowl @eclectic-sassycoweyes @captain-gillian @thisbuildinghasfeelings @alrightbuckaroo @theghostofashton @freneticfloetry @everlastingday @carlos-tk @henrygrass @carlossreaders @rangersoup @futures-tense @heartstringsduet @goodways @whatsintheboxmh @lightningboltreader @welcometololaland @liminalmemories21 @reyesstrand @butchreyes @firstprince-history-huh + open tag

[aethesfaelibrarae]

Mouthwashing has given me a lot of brain worms and we've got thoughts—time to share them with the hungry void that is Tumblr. One of the last places I'm 90% certain my words won't show up stolen or regurgitated by machine.

Warning for spoilers about the game and rambling!

I believe that Mouthwashing is a modern-day Lolita. The storytelling is similar, in that, almost against their own better judgement and will, the audience finds themselves thinking like our unreliable narrator(s).

Most people.. Sorry, some people have cottoned on to the fact that Anya's personality is not that of a scared, timid and ultimately, useless nurse and she's been in fight or flight response for months now with no other choice but to fawn. As someone who has been in a similar situation for only one day a week for months, the fear only got worse, the longer I went without support. And the things that she does in the background.. No doubt similar to the way that Daisuke kept track of their food supply was brushed over and unsung.. So is the fact that Anya has been keeping a severe burn victim—with 4th degree burns so severe, any treatment we currently have is experimental and expensive.. If the pain does not kill you first—she's been keeping Curly alive for months with no help and incredibly minimal supplies. (I personally think that Anya probably was on the side of giving him an easier death or maybe even suggested a gentler way of giving him medicine—but (sterile) syringes in space? Limited water? An especially dismissive Swansea and go with the flow Daisuke?.. Easier to try and give Jimmy what he wants.)

But. I believe that people overlook the ways in which Catastrophe Jim's perspective on Curly twists our own. Pre-Crash Curly exists upon a pedestal—a good man, better than Jimmy could ever hope to be; a good, well-liked captain. Well-off, better looking (I say this because of the similarities in how Jimmy mentally views himself in similar shape and age as Curly) and still reaching for more. For better. People catch the underlying jealous and resentment for the life that Jimmy wants at all cost but.. They miss the pedestal. The miss the fact that if Jimmy says that Curly's better than he is, a good and better Captain.. That means that Curly is doing the bare fucking minimum: keeping them all alive year after year. Curly is a nice captain with the capacity to soothe over minor issues and keep a cool head and keep the crew on schedule.. But he is not a good one. He's not even a good person. Not really. Jimmy thinks of him as a good person, puts him on this pedestal that he's foaming at the mouth with excitement to pull him off of. Dirty the golden boy and spit on his silver-threaded bootstraps once and for all.

Except.. What evidence do we have that Curly is especially liked or respected? Where is this cheering crew? Where is Curly good?

Curly is a human, at the end of the day.

And.. Which comes to my more complicated and no doubt contriversal take... Curly is also a victim of Jimmy stuck in fawn response. This doesn't absolve him of the ways in which he failed the crew but Anya especially by letting Jimmy run amok and failing to take any action while he still had the chance. He stood by when Anya begins to hint at something beneath the shiny veneer of a happy tight-knit crew and most damningly, he stood by as Jimothy entered the cockpit immediately after suggesting a plan to kill everyone aboard.

I genuinely.. Genuinely.. Don't know what he thought would happen.

But he does take action.. And his last action is what makes he and Anya swap places. Except.. Not truly.

Yes, they are in similar situations—vulnerable to the whims of a psychotic madman with an inferiority complex and their plight largely ignored by the crew; a necessary sacrifice to keep the peace.. Just until safe harbor—but where Anya begins to gain autonomy and some relief from Jimmy no longer having a need for her.. Curly finds himself the center of Jimmy's world.

And that is not a great place to be in.

Curly is systemically isolated (bad-mouthed to the crew over and over again, berated publicly, blamed for an awful accident that Jimmy caused) and his torture and abuse mirrors the continuous, silent medical, emotional and physical abuse that many disabled people face. And almost in a worse way, his voice is stolen from him and used in such insidious inspiration porn.. A lot of people think that he actually said those things.

But we won't know. And if he did say these things.. Why does Jimmy only seem to (mis)understand them in the final acts? Recalling them in Curly's voice but not as the Captain but as a savior, his last charitable act to wipe the ledger of blood clean.

Jimmy doesn't want to see Curly better. He likes feeling useful. He enjoys having Curly watch him and in the same breath, he loathes it. He wants Curly's judgement. He wants Curly's praise. He wants.. Everything that makes Curly Curly.

Curly as a silent observer isn't remarked on often.. Nor is the fact that more than likely, the others heard Curly's sobs of pain from the medbay. But Curly is very conscious, very aware and very alone in his thoughts.

There's a point in which the perspective changes during Swansea's mercy killing—a gift that no one offers Curly—and once again, Curly is stuck watching all of his mistakes play out, one after the other. Unable to do anything but laugh.

But is it a laugh or a sob? Jimmy doesn't care and neither does the player—what's important is the objective: the gun. 739. Click. He steps over Anya's body like it's not even there and runs away.

We don't find out what set Swansea off—maybe Jimmy couldn't help himself and said something about Daisuke or Anya that blamed them. Maybe it was something else. Curly watches on. Helplessly.

There's something to be said about the black screens and the static that occurs when Jimmy hurts Curly or kills Swansea—like he's cutting the memory off before the guilt can get to him. And it's the same thing I'd like to bring up about Curly's voice. Yes, it takes a lot to speak without lips.. Or from what it looks like a tongue.. But there are more noises Curly can make. Noises that can refute Jimmy.

And in the same way that he's at the precipice of something so terrifying he keeps returning to the same spot that's slowly killing him, he's learned that fighting is useless.

It's 2 months after the crash when see Jimmy's perspective again, after all. And while Anya's requests for help seem to be new.. Who's to say that the beatings are?

The worse type of abuse is the type that leaves no bruises. After all, Curly cries all the time in pain.. What's the difference here?

To cycle back to my original point in this.. I don't see a lot of people consider Post-Crash Curly's living hell as another facet of Jimmy's abuse going unchecked by the people around him as anything other than comeuppance. As Karma. And it's the coldest take I've seen from the fandom so far. Allow me to reheat it up for you: disability so severe that you must rely on others is not divine punishment. It's not just desserts. Just as disabled people are your infantilazed, idealized, inspirational iron woobie that can take pain and push through it.. They are also not being punished by the divine. They are humans and sometimes shit just happens and it sucks.

The way that Jimmy views Post-Crash Curly as a saving prop.. Proof that he can indeed fix it.. is so normalized that as the audience, it can be something that you aim to achieve–one of the earliest and easiest achievements you can get is opening and closing Curly's mouth like a mannequin.

There's a relief that we share when Curly shuts up. There's a shutdown in empathy when Jimmy brutalizes him. Up until we can no longer look away.

Because Jimmy can no longer look away. And that is the chilling part of all this. Jimmy gets away with it—all of it—because of the crew's inability to overcome their own apathetic acceptance of the monster in their midst.

Just like most people accept the main character from Lolita as a gentleman, the crew accepts Jimmy as a guy. A little rough and short-tempered but what do you expect from blue collar work? Hold your nose, it'll be over in a year. In 8 months. In 10. Soon. It'll be over soon.

I can't help but worry if Jimmy weren't so bad at being likable and if he were even a smidgen of the charismatic mastermind, he so clearly wants to be..

We'd have another Valentino on our hands.

Mouthwashing is a horror that I can't help but devour. FEAST, indeed.

[star-lights-up]

OKAY OKAY OKAY BUT: Cherik "The Martian" AU

So I'm rereading the martian today because i am sick again, so obviously I need hard science fiction to combat the existential dread, and my brain just kept latching onto dialogue bits and going "CHERIK! MAKE IT CHERIK"

My thoughts are:

Charles and Erik were friends at one point, maybe during college, maybe at the beginning of training, IDK, at some point they had a bit of a falling out. They're civil enough to still get put on the mission together but it's well known they don't get along.

Though there was that one night, where they were both kinda drunk, and they got together......... ("We can't do this again." Erik said, angrily, in the morning. Charles left without so much as glancing at him, let alone responding.)

There's a sandstorm on sol 6, and the team is trying to evacuate (probably the first class team because that's just easy. Hank = pilot. I bet you moira is the leader lady, lewis, military trained or whatever. And everyone else is there too, but i'm on my asthma medication so I can't think clearly, so they don't get specific roles)

The radio dish comes off, impales Charles, he blows backward while unconscious (lower gravity or some shit idk physics) and crashes into Erik, who then gets hit by more debris. The thing that impaled Charles also impaled his biotelemetry reader, and Erik's got crushed on impact/by the debris, so both of them read as dead to their crew members, who have to leave or else they die too.

Erik wakes up first, since he's not actively bleeding and his suit's not impaled and loosing air. The sandstorm is over, the HAB (think space station/tent) is intact (yay!), but the MAV (think small spaceship good for like, a round trip to and from a larger vessel) is gone (fuck).

He tries to wake Charles up, but ends up dragging him back to the HAB on his own. He takes out the antenna that impaled him and sews up and bandages the cut, while Charles is semi-conscious. It's painful for now, but he'll live. Erik's exhausted, so he goes back to his own bunk and falls asleep, kinda hoping this is all a nightmare.

It's not gone in the morning. He's still stuck on mars in a glorified tent with limited resources and his least favorite person on the team.

They talk to each other, Charles thanks him for helping him, and they decide that they're just going to have to work together to get off of mars alive.

Charles = botanist, erik is the engineer (basically gonna have them split the original main guy's braincell. They already share one anyway).

Potato farming

Along the way, they kinda sorta start becoming friends again. They're relying on each other to survive, they're the only people each other can talk to... They play chess on the computers and watch Moira's awful 70's television and listen to disco that she brought along with her. They farm potatoes and jerry rig rovers and then oops, they fell asleep in the same tiny bunk watching tv together. Oops, they hugged after the potatoes germinated. Oops, they kissed in celebration when they finally made contact with NASA again.

Just like that, they've fallen into a new rhythm. They still argue a lot, but now there's also a good amount of kissing and little fleeting touches while they work together and they put their bunks together and fall asleep in each other's arms ("Do you realize," Charles says one night, Erik curled against his chest, pressing slow kisses to his collarbone, "We're the only people to have made love on a planet other than Earth?" Erik snorts softly, "NASA's not going to be hearing about that, if I can help it." "You realize that the HAB's always recording us, yes? They'll get the footage when we get back to Earth." "...Right. Huh." Erik frowns, then shrugs, "Worth it." Charles laughs.)

Erik gets stuck inside the airlock when the HAB deflates and they loose all their potatoes. Charles is in the rover and, for a while, was convinced Erik was dead. Until he saw the airlock start to roll towards the HAB, and then he started steering the rover over.

After they got the HAB back up, NASA tells them they're sending a supply probe called "Iris." (Transmission goes like this: [08:31] JPL: Keep us posted on any mechanical or electric problems. By the way, the name of the probe we're sending is Iris. Named after the Greek goddess who traveled the heavens with the speed of wind. She's also the goddess of rainbows. [08:47] LEN/XAV: Gay probe coming to save us. Got it. Erik heads back to the HAB. "Hello, darling. How's Houston?" Charles says, not turning from his soil samples or whatever the fuck he's been doing for three days. "They're sending us a pride-themed probe full of granola bars." Erik answers, shoving off his EVA suit. Charles turns to give him a quizzical, are-you-joking kind of look, then bursts out laughing upon seeing Erik's dead serious face. "Well, it's certainly fitting," He says, walking up to Erik and wrapping his arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.)

Anyways. Iris doesn't make it, shit keeps going wrong, BUT eventually their team catches wind of a plan -- a risky plan, but one that could save cherik. So, without houston's permission, they pilot their ship on a course back to mars. They'll do a flyby, and if Charles and Erik can get to the site of Ares 5 and the MAV for that mission, retrofit the MAV, make it to their team's ship without dying/miscalculating and shooting off into the depths of outer space, they can get to that ship and on a course back to earth by sol 549.

They spend a bunch of time retrofitting their rovers for the trip, and so begins the classic cherik roadtrip -- martian style!! (I just want to mention that there's like no space, so just picture them cuddled up for a good night's sleep on the front bench of the rover. there. cuteness among the science).

They flip at one point. I could add details but it's been a while of me writing this and my brain is slowly dying and i'm tired so. that's it.

They make it to ares 5, they retrofit the MAV, then they do The Riskiest Space Flight of All Time. Random shit goes wrong, everyone's improvising, it pretty much seems like they're done for...

They get back to the big ship. They're safe!! (well, as safe as you can be in space.) But they get a hot shower and full meals and much more comfortable bunks (in separate rooms, technically, but Erik refuses to leave Charles's side so they end up in one bunk that first night. Usually they'd try to be a bit more discreet, but what the fuck. They've been stuck on mars. They almost just died. They deserve to fall asleep in each other's arms.)

They are HEROS back on earth. They get married almost immediately -- it seems quick to a lot of people, but they're so trauma bonded that, like, it's necessary. they go to paris on their honeymoon and get lots of free stuff. They never go to space again lol (and gladly)

THE END (fucking finally, it's 12:00 am on the dot and i've been writing this for 45 minutes.)

EDIT: some art I did for this au

EDIT: I fucking did it. I started writing it. Oops.

[snixkers]

Crushed Walnuts

Pairing: Spencer Reid × GN!Reader

Angst

For: Anonymous Request

Content Warnings: Character death, gunshot wound, loss of blood, grief, funeral, NO HAPPY ENDING

Summary: You fade in and out while Spencer tries to keep you alive.

Author's Note: Tissues at the ready. I'm experimenting with writing style and trying to improve how I write grief so enjoy!!!

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN!

You rolled onto your side, vaguely aware of your team's muffled yells around you. The shot rang in your ears, rattling around your brain and causing your vision to wobble.

As you started to regain consciousness, you saw Spencer crouch down beside you, pressing on your chest.

Spencer.

Your breath hitched when you saw him. He was always so nice to you, telling you random things he’d learned and filling up your coffee for you.

(He did that for everyone because that’s the kind of person he was, but you liked to imagine that he took as much pleasure in your morning routine as you did.)

The best part of work was walking into the bullpen and seeing his smile.

Where was his smile?

He was panicked now, and his hands were shaking as he pressed on the red-hot spot.

“Hey, stay with…”

★★★★★

“...me personally, I think Gattaca is one of the most accurate sci-fi movies.”

You tilted your head, giving up on your paperwork to listen to his voice.

“I’ve never seen it. I’m not much of a sci-fi person.”

His smile widened, and he quickly leaned forward.

“Oh, you’re missing out! Sci-fi is one of the most interesting genres of film and literature there is. Some advancements in technology were directly influenced by fiction.”

You shook your head. “Unfortunately, I’m more of a rom-com person.”

He took a sip of his vile coffee.

“Did you know the first romantic comedy was released in 1924?”

You shook your head again. He always knew things you never even considered.

“I prefer to watch things that have been released within the past few decades.”

He sighed again, wiping a smudge of coffee ground off the bottom of his mug.

“You’re missing…”

★★★★☆

“...out. They’re going in and out!”

You blinked again, groaning at the pinching pain in your ribs. You could see the panic in his eyes, tears forming as he called for backup. You went to sit up, but he pushed you back down.

“Stay where you are. You’re losing a lot of blood.”

His voice cracked slightly at the end, something that usually happened when he was happy. But there was no joy in his expression as you both stared down at the bloody wound in your chest.

“When did I get hit?”

He frowned, elevating your head to keep you conscious.

“A few minutes ago. Don’t worry, an ambulance is on the…”

★★★☆☆

“...way back in 10,000 BC, the first ancestors of the modern walnut started growing.”

You paused, your hand halfway to your mouth.

“That long?”

He nodded, eager to share his never-ending flow of information.

“Mhm. They were brought over by Chinese merchants.”

You popped a few in your mouth, chewing slowly.

“Well, they’re really good. I could eat them for hours and never get…"

★★☆☆☆

“...tired.”

You heard your voice from far away, watching the panic in his eyes increase.

“No, I need you to stay awake. Don’t die on me, okay? I don’t want to lose you.”

His voice grew fainter, and you could hear your thready heartbeat in your ears.

“Stay with me. Do you…”

★☆☆☆☆

“...understand Korean? There's a film festival in town this weekend.”

You smiled gratefully, watching him stumble over his words.

“I wouldn’t get any of it.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t need to. I can translate everything for you in real-time.”

You blushed at the thought of him whispering in your ear, hoping he didn’t notice anything.

“Yeah, sure.”

The nerves quickly left his body and he sighed in relief.

“Perfect. It’s a date.”

Realizing his words, he quickly headed toward the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor. You hesitated before stepping after him.

“When you said date, you meant as friends, right?”

He turned around, flashing you a more subdued smile.

“Yeah, of course. I don’t know why I said that. Sometimes I don't even know what I'm...”

☆☆☆☆☆

“...thinking of you all the time. And I miss the way that you listened, and how you used to make me feel. And every time I do a crossword, I look for things you like. Liked. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over you. Um, that’s all.”

He stepped down from the podium, making his way back to his seat in the front row. The shadows under his eyes were darker than usual, his hair was greasy and unwashed, and he hadn't eaten in days.

He knew if you saw him, you’d worry and tell him to take care of himself. But sitting in front of your fresh grave as another team member came to say some more remarks, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

[mentallyunstablethembo]

(this is a Shen Yuan-centric fic, it is the prologue (?) to an au that I'm working on! Thank you and I hope you enjoy!)

This starts like any other story.

Shen Yuan was born apart of a wealthy family, with loving, yet very busy parents, two older brothers and one little sister.

However, ever since he came out of the womb, he was weak and sick, his little soul already struggling to stay alive.

His heart was weaker than that of all of the other children, his lungs making it harder to breathe properly, his immune system struggling to keep up as his body rots and decays like a fresh carcass.

But none of that ever stopped him. He always did what he wanted, his weak body letting him have a lot of free time to do whatever caught his attention that day, his mind and hands usually occupied with something to do.

Shen Yuan was a bit of a loner, but that was fine by him, for he had everything that he ever wanted, that is, his siblings of course.

From the day he was born, his brothers always tried their best to be by his side, helping to raise him and spend time with him while their parents were busy with all of their work.

And ever since their little sister was born, Shen Yuan did the same for her as his brothers did for him.

Life was tough, but he did all that he could while constantly going in and out of the hospital, his passion for his interests only growing stronger.

He learned to play the guqin so that he and his erge could play sweet melodies together, sharing memories of wondrous songs and lullabies to soothe their souls.

He and his dage would then spend time together by playing different games such as weiqi, or 'go', as some people reffered to it. But they also enjoyed playing card games, especially uno, as Shen Yuan enjoyed the thrill of beating his siblings in the game, the satisfaction that he felt as he watched his siblings' distraught faces almost like a sweet nectar to his taste buds, it was simply addicting.

But it was with his meimei that he spent hours reading books and chattering about mundane things.

And it was also because of her and his erge that he picked up drawing and writing along the way as well, as he sought ways to bring their favorite things and ideas to life.

He loved his family dearly, and it was with their support and passion for his interests that he chose to study hard and become a literature teacher.

And he loved it too!

Teaching the next generation of students made him feel fullfilled, like he found his one and only purpose. And the kiddos loved him too.

Sure, he was a bit strict, and boy did he leave scathing reviews and seas of red on student essays, but it was fine!

They were high schoolers, they could handle it!

He taught them for a few years, the students loving him for his curious and excited personality, the way he at times was giddy to teach them new things in the most fun and interesting ways possible, with his classroom feeling comforting and fun due to his decor.

He adored teaching, and he adored the kids as well! And the kids adored him in turn. He wanted to teach for as long as he could.

Until he couldn't anymore.

The pain was all too much. His health was fine and stable enough for the past few years, and sure, there were a few times here and there when something happened, but other than that he was fine!

His decline in health was so sudden and unexpected, nobody could've seen it coming even if they wanted to.

One moment he was fine, teaching the kids like he normally would, and the next he suddenly blacked out as his body hit the floor.

He was suddenly stuck in the hospital again, constantly going in and out while his family tried to be there for him, everyone afraid of what was going to happen next.

By this time, Shen Yuan found the webnovel 'Proud Immortal Demon's Way'.

Curious, he decided to give the book a try, and stars did he fall in love with the story.

That is... Only the beginning.

The rest could burn.

Along with all of the nonsense the author put into it.

The story was good at the start, the world-building, fauna and interesting monsters being what pulled him in, until... It.. kind of spiraled out of control..?

Almost as if the author suddenly decided to say 'fuck it' and shoved his dick into the story, fucking up everything and making sure that all of it was coated in a nice sticky layer of nonsense and papapa scenes, destroying all that he ever created.

Shen Yuan did in fact leave scathing reviews on every chapter, yet also decided that he was bored enough to look closely through the story for any interesting lore, fauna or monsters, cataloging everything he found on the wiki, since that was what originally pulled him in.

He did have all the tine he could ever want, after all.

This journey took a while as well, so when the story finally finished, Shen Yuan felt a little bitter, upset at the way it ended while also deciding to just take a break finally.

... Only for the infamous author, also known as 'airplane shooting towards the sky' (a bit of a childish name, but who was he to judge?), decided to post all of his actual drafts, showcasing the backstories, all the peak lords, scrapped ideas and characters, places, and so much lore!

Shen Yuan wanted to print all of these drafts out, take aitplane out on a nice hang out session and then shove these pages down his throat. Or maybe just hit him with them. Repeatedly. On the head. Mainly so that his braincells that decided to each go their own seperate ways like a couple after a terrible divorce could come back together, because the other one 'changed' and they're 'doing it for the kids', and then hopefully beat the crap out of his non-existent pea brain. Maybe then would the author finally have a light light up in his head.

But of course, life hates Shen Yuan and so it decides to attempt its try at his heart, only to trip onto a panel of glass, shattering it as it failed miserably, because of course he would survive because his sister found him in time!

I would say 'good for him that he survived and avoided his death!', but Shen Yuan was, understandably so, very tired of life's bullshit.

He didn't go back to his home anymore, his condition so bad that he could only stay at the hospital.

His family visited him as much as they could, his sister always coming to visit after school so that she could hang out with him (and maybe get some help on her homework).

His erge would come by and stay for hours, the two would usually talk about the most mundane things, to their deepest wishes and most biggest regrets. They would talk about the future, if there were past lives, anything that crossed their minds as nothing was left unsaid between them. That is, until Shen Yuan's erge had to leave.

His dage would also come and visit him, usually spending their time together in comfortable silence, playing games or just watching movies together.

However, ever since Shen Yuan was little, there was always one thing that he liked the most about these horrendous situations.

He loved when his family would climb into the bed with him, whether it be his mother, sister or any of his brothers. But over the years, Shen Yuan thinks that his most favorite visits are with his father.

The man was always quiet, cold and distant to everyone, but so very gentle it sometimes ached Shen Yuan's heart. His father tried his best, tried everything and anything to ease the burdens that Shen Yuan had to carry, he did everything he could just like Shen Yuan's mother, but that wasn't why he adored the visits from his father.

Through the whole visit, his father would always hold his hand, listening as Shen Yuan talked about anything. And when Shen Yuan asked, he would also climb into the bed, his strong arms embracing his weak, yet so very soft child of his.

He would stay there for hours, as Shen Yuan's head rested on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

In the end, however, it wouldn't be his father, or his mother, that would see Shen Yuan off.

His erge, his dear, beloved erge, would be the one to do so.

Shen Yuan was feeling so weak, so tired, as he was barely holding on, yet he still kept going for his family. It was one of those days where his erge would come and visit, but this time, he held a solemn expression when he looked at Shen Yuan.

Without a word, he quietly climbed into the bed with his little brother, holding him close as Shen Yuan's head rested on his chest, his fingers carding through his hair, careful to not tug on any of the tubes, cables or wires.

"You can go now", spoke his brother softly, tears slowly gathering in his eyes as he continued to pet his little brother's hair. "I'll take care of everyone, you can rest now."

And it was in this peaceful moment that Shen Yuan closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, never to wake up as he was wrapped in the gentle hold of his brother.

His sould drifted away, finally going to sleep.

Or so he thought, but that is a story for the next time.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Author's note: this is for an au that I'm currently working on, it is only the start of the story and I really hope to write more for it! Hopefully...

Please keep in mind that I rarely write! This is my first time writing after like, what, at least a year or two? And even then, they were very short things that never saw the light of day, and were only shared with friends on discord.

I write only for fun, I do not write to be perfect or have the top writing style, and I quite don't care either! This is all only for fun and because I like it, so please keep this in mind!

My writing is not perfect and there will definitely be spelling errors, as english is not my 1st language and no matter how many times I re-read this, I still tend to miss said spelling errors-

With love,

- Onyx

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[thyandrawrites]

I'm having a lot of thoughts about Fangs of Fortune's thesis about kindness. How the show posits that at times the unfairness of life will try to beat any hope you hold dear out of you. And that if you let it, you'll become a shell of resentment and you'll start to see things like bioessentialism as very tempting, cause it's easier to hate an entire category of people and dehumanize them, than turn that look inwards and examine how your own biases and shortcomings contribute to other people's suffering, too.

I think the shows portrays kindness as an act of resistance. As the only act of resistance that matters, even.

The central premise is that the world is a sea of suffering and unfairness, but to let yourself drown in it is to jump into a bottomless abyss. You'll lose yourself forever. Losing loved ones is inevitable, and you'll be powerless to stop it, and you'll lose your mind if you try. But you cannot let the cruelty of the world change you into an unkind person, because the kindness in your heart is what will make it possible to find connection and common ground.

When it comes to interpersonal conflict, assuming you know the whole truth because you trust your morals and your sense of fairness will make you blind to all the things that don't quite fit into your worldview. We see this through the tragedy of the Pei siblings being unable to see eye to eye until one of them dies for the other, and they still continue to misunderstand each other, to assume their way of fixing the family was the one that would've worked in the end. But we also see this through Li Lun's inability to see past Wen Zongyu's lies despite his truth eye, setting himself up to being manipulated by the very person he was trying to defeat.

But the show tells us, if you're able to see past your own pain, you will recognize other people's pain, too, and that will be your greatest stength.

Kindness is a choice, and sometimes remaining kind despite hardship will take a lot of self-restraint and will come at the price of great personal suffering. But choosing to remain kind — choosing not to let your despair change you into someone who cannot see other point of views or your own flaws, let alone attempt to correct them — is what will save you. Blaming others for your pain is tempting, cause hatred is easy. So so easy. Hatred will make you feel as though you're in control, but in truth, you'll just give your resentment free rein to guide your choices, to blindfold you and make you lose the last bits of yourself, until hatred is all that controls you, not the other way around.

Kindness, on the other hand, often is the hardest thing you will ever have to bear. It will be heavy, because sometimes it carries the weight of someone else's pain that you're shouldering for them, or that you're sharing together. And sometimes it will hurt you worse than all the pain in the world because you'll be bearing a weight that no one but you knows this intimately, and you'll be blamed for things that you couldn't control, things that happened to you, that you were powerless to stop. Sometimes you'll be the one grieving, and the world will still oust you. Like how Zhou Yichen couldn't see how Ying Lei wasn't the only one crying for his grandpa, but Zhao Yuanzhou was grieving his master, too. Or how when the table turns ZYC experiences how fickle human empathy is when your hands are bloodstained.

And the show asks us through both ZYZ and ZYC what meaning can there be in staying alive, if pain is all you know. If your kindness and your good intentions aren't enough to prevent further losses, or if your morals cannot render you immune to resentment. Because everyone, even the most fair and ethical of people can experience it, and everyone can go off the deep end when the right circumstances make them susceptible to letting out said violence.

But retaliation is not closure. Choosing to hate the world for its cruelty the way Li Lun and Wen Zongyu do is an easy outlet for their grief, but in the end it doesn't make their lives meaningful. It doesn't resolve the suffering in the world, either. Zongyu resents demons for their violence against humans, and yet still betrays humanity in the end, inflicting violence on them in his obsession for revenge. And Li Lun resents humans for how they treat demons, but his plan to fix that involves letting all the weaker demons become casualties in a bigger war. Bioessentialism cannot be the answer. Hatred can feel empowering in the moment, but in the eyes of literally everyone else you'll just be hateful and miserable. You'll have driven people away, using your hurt as justification for inflicting harm on others. And since misery only breeds more misery, that will make you more aware of everything you don't have, which in turn will feed in a never-ending cycle your anger and your resentment towards the world that took those things from you.

So what can you do?

Fate cannot be overwritten, death cannot be reversed. There are things that you simply cannot change. But as unfair as it is to be asked to be the one carrying the burden of staying kind despite how much it hurts you, in the end it's only kindness that can give you solace, too. It's the only thing that will stand between you and despair. It won't lift the pain of your losses or of the things you cannot change, but it will give you hope. Pei Sijing cannot hold on to her brother forever because he's already long dead. But it's this unfair loss that taught her how important it is to see past your biases and attempt to understand others before it's too late. And she passes on this kindness to Wen Xiao in turn, asking her if her resentment is worth the price of regret later down the line, using herself as a cautionary tale.

Similarly, Zhou Yichen cannot make his brother come back to life by killing his killer, but when his demonization arc makes him see reality from ZYZ's pov, he gains a best friend instead. Two "anomalies" find belonging within mutual understanding, with all the closure and relief it brings to the torture they've been carrying in their hearts for 8 years.

And the show says, only if you let your heart experience hope, if you practice kindness as a choice, you'll be able to open your heart to like-minded people. To your people. The ones willing to fight for you, with you.

And that's what makes the impossible weight of the world more bearable. The common ground you can only reach by letting yourself see reality through someone else's eyes.

And idk, besides sharing this view, I think it's great to have stories emphasizing these ideas at a time like this, in the current real world climate

[hyperfixatedbastard]

Hi i hope you doing well. I have a resquest... more like a headcanon. What if Adam was a dad ? What his behaviour will be ? Does he be a good or a bad father ?

I understand if you don't do it. I don't want to force you for something you don't want to.

Dadam (Dad!Adam) Headcanons

we bringing out the daddy issues on this one boys

WARNINGS: none

A/N: I haven't done a headcanon type of post yet, but they're easier to write than regular one shots and I'm too tired for that shit. The request didn't specify what kind of Reader (spouse or child), so I just went with general headcanons that don't specify the Reader at all. Insert yourself as you wish!

Also, thank you all for your patience! It's been very busy for me lately and I've been too exhausted to write much, so expect a lot more of these kinds of posts (the formatting is easier and I don't have to write a bunch of dialogue lol).

Dividers

As the father of humanity, Adam had...a lot of kids. The guy lived for 800+ years just populating the earth. That's a LOT of kids. We all know how the first two turned out. That is, not fuckin' well. To be honest, I don't think Adam valued his children. It was just kinda... a thing he had to do. (When Abel died and Cain got exiled, he fr just went and had another kid to replace them.) But I am in deep, deep denial and this is for my enjoyment as someone with severe daddy issues. So fuck all that.

At first, Adam is 100% the guy that freaks the fuck out when he finds out he knocked someone up. That man is SWEATING. He's actually pretty chill if it's someone he's in an established long-term relationship with, though. He still freaks the fuck out, but to a significantly lesser degree and with a much smaller chance of up and leaving. Once he's over the initial shock, he's shocked to find that he's kind of excited. Back when he was alive, having kids was just normal because it was such a common occurrence.

This man knows every little detail about pregnancy and infants. With the amount of kids he's had? He has seen it ALL. Sure, all his information is thousands of years old, but knowledge learned through experience is super valuable when it comes to this shit! He doesn't know what the fuck a uterus is, but he knows exactly how to make his partner the most comfortable, how to deal with cravings, etc. If his partner has a problem, he's got a solution. It might be a fuckin' weird one, but it works! He'll probably grumble and complain, but he doesn't actually mean it. Bitching is just his thing, y'know? But... pregnancy hormones + Adam's douchebag-ness = feelings getting hurt. If his partner starts crying because of some shit joke or complaint he made? He's scrambling so fast. "Shit, babe, fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, fuckfuckfuck, don't cry—"

Once the baby is born, he definitely surprises literally everyone but his partner by actually doing helpful shit. Changing diapers? Easy fuckin' peasy (he does watch a tutorial online because he doesn't know how tf modern diapers work but he's a fast learner) Feeding? No problemo. Getting up in the middle of the night to do both of those things? His sleep schedule's already fucked, this shit ain't new.

When it comes to parenting and raising the kid, though... that's definitely where Adam struggles. He'd struggle with bonding. A lot. Adam mostly talks about things that you really shouldn't say around children, much less bond over. I think he'd be better at just letting the kid ramble while he's just sitting there, fully engrossed in whatever bullshit his child is saying. He's not just passively listening with little 'uh-huh's and nods, this man is active in the discussion. Have you ever heard a small child speak? They say the most random shit ever, and Adam would love it. It's peak entertainment to him. Even if it's just incoherent babbling, he'll have full-on conversations with this baby.

He'd definitely have some shared interests as the kid gets older. I think Adam's favorite shows/movies are a mix of action movies and shit like Power Rangers. He's not ashamed of it either—'fuck you, the Power Rangers are fuckin' cool.' This also goes for video games. I know that man is a toxic COD gamer boy and you can't prove me wrong. Basically, the only thing that keeps him from becoming one of those husbands that locks himself away in a man cave to play video games is the fact that he can game with his kid.

And once they get into school, he just gets really invested in the drama. Elementary school drama is such bullshit, and it'd be the best reality TV he's ever seen. "Oh, don't tell me—it's that bitch Cindy. The fuck did that little shit do this time?" He'd be gasping like it's a damn soap opera. 'Oh no she didn't!' kinda vibe.

He'd talk so much shit around his kid about the parents of their classmates, the teachers, anyone. Then the kid would repeat it and Adam would get sat down in the office with his kid like: "Your child said, and I quote, 'My dad says your mom's a bitch.'" "What? She fuckin' is." And yeah, he's not wrong - some of those parents are fucking nightmares.

If his kid got in trouble for fighting, his reaction would depend on the situation. If it was unprovoked and/or a part of bullying, he'd originally laugh it off but would be freaking the fuck out internally. He's probably a little traumatized by what happened with Cain and Abel. But if the fighting was an act of defense (whether of themselves or someone else) he would be the proudest dad ever. Fist-bumps his kid in the office in full view of the principal.

You cannot trust this man to give his kid the sex talk. It just will not go well. Like, if his kid needs advice when they're older (basically anything beyond 'where do babies come from') then he's your guy, but it's still gonna be awkward and uncomfortable. He'd probably have Lute handle most of those issues just so he doesn't have to know about his kid's sex life but can still trust that they have a responsible(?) adult if they have questions.

In terms of where Adam is lacking as a parent, there's a few areas in particular to focus on.

Emotional availability? Not his strong suit. At all. He can't deal with his own feelings, let alone his kid's. Most of the emotional support will be coming from his partner. That doesn't mean he doesn't try. But he can't show it with words all that well. He'll show emotional support in other ways—quality time, gifts, and acts of service for the most part. Like going out for ice cream, watching a movie, etc.

He's not good with discipline. To him, everything's no big deal. If his kid hasn't killed their sibling, that's good enough for him! Generally, his partner will choose when/how to discipline (with Adam's input ofc), but Adam's job is to just enforce it/not overrule it. He's 100% the type to be sneaky about it tho. If his kid is grounded, he'll go out with them to give them a break from being stuck in the house, y'know, stuff like that. Because of this, his kid forms a closer, different kind of bond than with Adam's partner. It's more friendly, I guess is the word? Like, his kid won't go to him for actual helpful advice, but if they fuck up somehow or are in a bad situation that they kinda got themselves into (drinking, car accident, etc.), then Adam is the parent they call.

I think Adam's peak parenting era would be when his kid is a late teen/young adult. 'Cause then he can actually be himself, for the most part. His personality is not very kid-friendly, so once his kid isn't really much of a kid anymore—he is so fucking excited. His relationship with his kid would be a lot more unconventional as they grow older. Like, he's really close with his kid once they're an adult. (totally not basing this off my relationship with my mom) His advice would be shit, but he'd give it if his kid needed it!

Definitely the type to text his kid more often than most parents. Mostly because he texts more like them and has the same sense of humor. Lots of shitty memes.

Also!! I think Adam would definitely make time for his partner. Date nights are a must. His kid better get comfortable with sleepovers at friends' houses or getting babysat by Emily 'cause he ain't letting parenthood fuck up his sex life.

I think that's all I got. Not sure how to end this so uh... shoutout to all you bitches with daddy issues lmao

Taglist: @little-miss-chaoss @fakeguysarehot @3sire-777