#babydaddy soap

[thugbiscuits]

— december fic recs 18+ only.

please note: none of these fan fictions were written by me. when you read please make sure to like, comment, and reblog. IT MAKES ALL THE DIFFERENCE. minors / ageless blogs will be blocked.

pssst.. hey pookie ;) thanks for stopping by again! hope you can find some comfort in these fics, i know i did. there’s a lot less fics as you can see, i haven’t been reading as much bc the holidays were a mess 🙈. as one year ends and the next begins i’m always sending love to everyone here on tumblr. wishing you all the best, see you in the spring. LOVE YOUUAA

captain curly fics .

❄︎ nsfw curly headcanons (captain curly x reader, smut) @curlybiter

❄︎ co-pilot mischief (series) (curly x teasing!reader) @kkanabel

❄︎ nsfw alphabet w/curly @konpeitonom

wade wilson fics .

❄︎ a line drawn in red (wade wilson x reader, fluff, smut) @angel-eyes05

❄︎ wade and lipgloss (wade wilson x reader, smut) @fairlyang

logan howlett fics .

❄︎ i want your video (90’s pornstar!logan howlett x reader, smut) @murdrdocs

❄︎ cheer up! (logan howlett x reader, fluff) @wolvietxt

joel miller fics .

❄︎ jagged edge (joel miller x f!reader, smut) @ovaryacted

❄︎ babydaddy!joel thoughts (fluff, smut) @faerygrant

johnny ‘soap’ mactavish fics .

❄︎ what are boundaries? (series)(neighbor!john soap mactavish x reader) @3amfanfiction

❄︎ totally platonic (best friend!soap x reader, smut) @kechiwrites

❄︎ kinktober day 4 - creampie (smut) @etclouie

❄︎ so this some new trick? (johnny mactavish x reader, smut) @gazlightmehardergazzy

❄︎ gallery curator!reader x bitter artist!soap (smut) @soapcloth

❄︎ johnny and simon domesticity (ghoap x reader, fluff) @lvrsfilm

mdni banner by @adornedwithlight <3

lovey’s note: this might be my last fic rec list for a while (at least a month or two). i’m trying to take a step back from social media as a whole, yk first of the year shit. but if you really and i mean really like me, you can follow and stay in touch. i’ll be popping around on here, doing “non fic rec stuff.”

[nieceeee]

“BEFORE THE BABY”

P/S: What was it like before babydaddy!eren was a baby daddy. And the reason he became one in the first place.

W/C: 4.2K

A/N: uhhh, this is a lil nasty. But this is before y/n gets pregnant and the relationship dynamic, there is a bit of dynamic shifting (d/s), pet names like babydoll, reader calls him daddy, safe words and things of that nature, of course MNDI, modern

“Look, I’m not dealing with your bullshit.” You said annoyed, trying to close the door. “I’m not bullshitting. I mean it.” he said. “Eren, I'm not in the fucking mood today okay.” You stood with your front door cracked, one foot nudged behind it to keep him outside.

“Come on. Please, hear me out.” he begged. You look into his eyes, a hint of desperation lingering. What the hell is his game this time? You were all too familiar with this cat and mouse mind maze he always played with you. Yet as self aware as you are, you somehow always fall back into the traps. Like Vickie Lo, it's always break up to make up just to break up again. Why? Who knows. You could always blame it on the toe curling make up sex every time yall had whenever you gave into him. Or the fact that you didn't respect myself enough as a woman to not allow a man to treat you like this, at least that's what your great grandmother would often remind you each time you went over for family dinners. Yet, she wonders why she doesn’t see you as much anymore. Or it could simply be that for some reason, you actually cared about him and dealing with the stress was easier than not dealing with him at all. At least that's what you’ve always told yourself each time you ran back to him. The truth of the matter is you didn't want to let him go because you didn't know how to. Eren had been your first of many things. Your best friend, Your first kiss, Your first love. You’ve known each for as long as you could remember.

It wasn’t a mystery that he would be your first in bed as well. Honestly, you both were amazing together…except when you were together. For some reason, the moment you started to take your relationship seriously, everything went to hell. It's like you couldn’t get it right no matter how hard you tried. But it was always a constant in your life, him being there. So your lives went in a consistent loop of ups and downs. In this moment, you were in another down as he stood on your porch doing the same thing he’s always done. Crawled back when he’s sick of being alone. “Babydoll. Please, just let me in.” he pleaded, pressing a hand against the door. “For what Eren? So you can pull the same bullshit you always do?” you spit out. “I’m not bullshitting you this time.” he explained, his hands pressing into the oak wood on the door. “Okay, so say what you have to say right here.” You said, putting a hand against your hip, a smirk at your lips. “Right here? On the porch?” he asks, confused. “Yes, since you got so much to fucking say. You don't need to be in my house to say it. Matter of fact..” you start to get louder but the sound of your neighbors screen door caught your attention. You roll your eyes.

If your elderly neighbor was one thing, it was nosey. She was always poking her head out searching for drama for her brunch club and unfortunately for you, your life has become her most recent soap opera. You clench your jaw in frustration as you turn your attention back to the cause for the current drama. “Eren, I really don't have the fucking time to deal with this today. So if you got something to say, hurry up and get it over with.” You say, trying to get this over with. “If you want me to then okay. I’ll say whatever right here. But I want you to listen to me this time and not just let me talk. Will you at least promise me that?” He asked. You open your mouth to speak but the squeaking of her door interrupted you again. She stood there with her head peeking out of the door, anticipating the mes to unfold. You were at the end of your wits. It was one thing to have to deal with him but, she was a whole different story. “I’m sorry. Do you need something?” You call out to her. Her eyes widen slightly before she narrows them at the both of you. You tilt your head at her, waiting for a smart comment to come out of her mouth. You’ve always been taught to respect your elders but today was one of those days.

She huffed and mumbled under her breath as she slinked back into her house, shutting the door behind her. You rolled your eyes again and turned back to Eren once more. “Now back to you.” Your anger was getting worse. Why was he even here? You were set to gave a great lazy day at home. That was indicated by the oversized university sweats hanging off his hips, your pink laced g-string peeking out of the top. A tight fitted cropped tank with the word “ANGEL” pasted across your breasts. Your snack-cuterie board was stocked to the brim and all your favorite Disney classics were queued up on the tv. You had all the makings of a lazy day in. So it was obvious to say that you were pissed that your night came crashing down once you opened your door to a set of bright emerald eyes staring down at you. “Babydoll?” He called pulling you from your thoughts.

“Stop calling me that.” You say, annoyed at him. “Okay, y/n. Please. You want me to beg? I will literally get on my knees and beg. Right here. I just need this chance. I mean it.” He says, slowly beginning to drop to his knees. Fuck you think to yourself. “Eren…” you say, letting out a frustrated sigh. He had already dropped one knee to the ground and seeing him like that sent a chill down your spine. You quickly shook the image from your mind. “Would you get up? You're making a scene.” You fuss pulling at his arm. Confusion laced his face as he lifted himself to standing. “You just told me…” he started. “I know what I said. I just…damn it. Eren, seriously what the hell do you want from me?” You groan, pressing your thumb and pointer finger against the bridge of your nose. “I want to talk to you.” He begged. “Why? There is nothing for us to even talk about.” Your arms fly up in the air with frustration at the consistent badgering. Normally he would’ve given in by now, giving you time to cool off before he came back a few days later pestering you again. What the fuck is his problem.

“All I need is five minutes. That’s all. And I’m done.” He tried compromising. This is not going to end well. I just know it. Everything in you wanted to say no. You met his gaze, he stared in anticipation, eyes widened like a lost puppy as waited for you to respond. He needed you to let him in. He knew it was a lot to ask but this time, he couldn’t walk away. Not again. Eren stood in front of you, hands hanging by his side as his fingers twitched slightly from his nerves. He opened his mouth to try and plead his case again for the umpteenth time but you spoke before he could utter a word. “Fuck. Okay, fine.” You reluctantly give in to him. His eyes widened with hope “You get two minutes. That’s it. So you better make this shit count.” You say as you ease up on the door and let him inside. He nodded his head frantically as he made his way inside. What the fuck have I done you think to yourself as you follow behind him, closing the door and turning the bolt lock

“How does it feel, baby girl?” he cooed. A soft moan escaped through the cherry gloss of your lips as his fingers gently caressed the throbbing bundle of nerves between your legs. Fuck. You think to yourself. “Come on babydoll, talk to me.” he continued, adding slightly more pressure. Your eyes roll towards the back of your head as you let it drop back into the satin covered pillow. Damn this feels so fucking good. Eren continues with slow counterclockwise circles, adjusting the pressure with each motion. Your body is reeling as the waves of pleasure roll through you. His fingers slip inside of you causing your body to jolt forward, arching your back from the bed and pressing your pussy into his hand. He presses the palm of his hand onto your clit as he pumps his middle and ring fingers into you slowly. His digits gently caress your insides, your slickness dripping out onto the sheets below you. Eren curves his fingers upwards towards your g-spot, making a “come here” gesture as he pleases you.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

He works you over slowly, breaking down your mental wall and sending your body further down the pleasure spiral. Your body has a mind of its own as it starts to shift forward, rocking back and forth against his long, skilled fingertips. A smile graced his face as he pushes the digits all the way inside of you, coaxing out another whimper from your lips. He pushes them into the knuckles as your body releases against his hand, your cum coating his palm and dripping to his wrist. Eren pulls his fingers from inside of you and brings his hand to his mouth, dragging his tongue up his palm and swallowing your juices. He quickly drops down and presses his belly against the mattress so that his face is lined up with your pussy. He wasted no time dragging his tongue from your opening up to your clit, licking up the mess he just made. You legs threaten to close but he brings his hands up to your inner thighs pressing them to the sides of the bed. “Ereeeen..fuck.” You cry out as he flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit.

Eren knew your body like it was his own. Let him tell it, it was his own. He knew every spot to hit to make you squirm underneath him. You watch as he takes his time, devouring you. His eyes raise up from between your legs and catch your stare. The burning gaze made your heart flutter. Eren stares into your soul as he slows his pace. You watch him pull back and flatten his tongue before bringing it forward and pressing it between your legs, covering your lips. He let his saliva drip all over you as he slid his tongue against your folds, swirling his tongue in wide zig zag motions as the fluids drenched your pussy. An audible gasp escapes your lips once the warmth of his mouth covers the hood of your clit. He twists the tip of his tongue in small circles around your clit as he continues to suck the hood between his lips. Your head falls back, mouth in an O as a whispered fuck coasted into the air. Your orgasm rolls into a ball in your belly, the tingles tickling your core before it explodes from your center and covers your entire body in ecstasy.

Eren watches you through hooded eyes as he sucks your juices down his throat. He loves seeing the way you fall apart under him. He would do anything to keep that blissful look on your face. He lapped at you, the wetness the only sound ringing in his ear aside from your broken pants. “Rennie…” you pant, rubbing your hands through his soft tresses and tugging at him. A growl came from his chest as he tugs your clit slightly with his lips. He cleans you with his tongue before raising himself up. Your essence drips down his chin and trickles onto his chest. He licks his lips and meets your gaze again. “You good?” He raises a brow at you. His voice is thick with lust as he hints at what he wants. You knew what he was asking for, the indentations in his voice make it evident. You take a few steady breaths before parting your legs wider and flattening yourself against the mattress. He smirks down at you and cups his hands underneath your upper thighs, slipping you deeper into his web.

“E, fuck…” your mind goes blank as he rubs his tip gently against your core. He pauses for just a moment, checking you over. “You okay baby? You need me to stop?” He looks at you, gaze still heavy but more alert that he was before to your needs. You take the time to peek pass your abdomen and down to his dick. He normally hung low but when he was erect, his soldier stood at full attention. His tip pink with arousal, threatening to leak. “Babydoll?” He asks, stepping back a bit to give you room to breathe. “N-no, I’m okay.” You drag your eyes back up to his face. “You sure?’ He asks again, still standing in his position. “Yes.” Your voice was certain this time. “I’m sure.” You assure him as you lean back again and wait for him to come close. He pauses a moment and then steps closer, gripping his dick and lining it back up with your center. He gives you one more look which you acknowledge with a slight nod, before pressing his length all the way inside of you.

“Ereeeeen.. mmm. Fuckfuckfuck.” You cry out. Your fingers pale against your grip of the sheets as he stretches your pussy out. How the hell did I fall for this again? The thought forced itself into your head. But you already knew the answers. This was nothing new. The up and down cycle. But, emotionally, something has changed. You aren’t sure if it was your lust riddled brain or the ounce of hope left in your heart but this time felt so different. The way he dropped to his knees before you on my porch. The pleading that reached up through his eyes. It seemed as if it was more genuine than you were used to. He poured into you, fucking your anger out of your system. “Oh my GOD, E!” You call out, his thrusting forcing you out of your thoughts and back to reality. “Fuck baby I missed this pussy so much.” He groans as he strokes you deeper. Your moans match his as he brings his body closer, hovering over you and pressing his hand into the headboard behind you. You shift your hips back a small fraction to try and allow yourself a slight breath from the way he was digging into your guts.

“Damn baby, you running from me already? We just getting started.” He jokes, his voice straining. He reaches his left arm and slides it under your hips and yanks you back to him, thrusting forward into your pussy, a bubble of your cum leaks out around him. You scream out to him, nails gripping into his back as he fucks you, crescents carving into his paled skin. “Rennie, please baby.” You cry. “You remember your safe word, yeah babydoll?” He asks as he pulls his hips back, allowing you to breathe. Mango you repeat in your head as you nod at him. “Good fucking girl.” He growls before ramming back into you. Your eyes roll back in your head as you grip the sheets until your knuckles turn white. His emerald gaze finds your amber one as his tips caresses your cervix. “Whose pussy is it babydoll? Who does it belong to?” He whispers through strokes. Your head was clouded with lust. “It’s yours daddy.” You bellow out.

“Fuck, you take daddy’s dick so well. My perfect fucking babydoll. I'm so proud of you.” He works you to another orgasm, your legs start to shake as your walls contract around his dick. Eren slips into your folds so effortlessly, knowing you were slowly crafted to fit his length. His muscles strained as he pleases you, he wanted to hold back. He needed to make sure you got yours even if he didn’t at all. His breathing got deep and choppy and his pace shifted. The strokes slow to a more sensual pace, a stark contrast to the rough hard ones from earlier. Eren’s hips roll into yours, pinpointing that gummy spot in your lower abdomen. If Eren was going to do one thing, it would be please you. He would give you ten orgasms and still coax more from you before he even thought about himself. But you wouldn't let him. Not this time. You are going to make him give you all of him. If he meant what he said on your porch, you would force him to show you.

“Daddy.” You moan. A shiver runs down Eren’s spine at the name, a low gasp breaking through his tightened lips. “Don’t stop, okay?” You beg, your chest rapidly rising and falling. Widened eyes met yours as Eren swallowed the lump in his throat. “Please don’t stop.” You cry out. “Oh fuck.” He moans softly. His strokes continue but at a sloppier and inconsistent pace. “Baby…I- I can’t.” He whimpers, dropping his head into your shoulder. “Please Rennie, I want it baby.” You reach your arms up and pull his chest against yours, your thighs tighten around his waist and you lock your ankles above him. That familiar sense of obsession took over you as you held his body firmly to yours. “I want it baby please. I want you to cum for me.” You plead. He lets out a strangled groan, pressing closer to you, anything to relieve himself of the energy streaking through his bloodstream. “Y/n, baby please. I can’t.” He whispers into your skin. You clench around him, your body still as he sits sheathed inside of you, your throbbing walls massaging his pulsing tip as you breathe in tandem. You give him a moment to steady his breathing but you won’t let him go.

“Do you remember your safe word?” You echo his question from earlier. It takes Eren a moment, brain still fogged from lust. “Huh?” He lets out. “Do you remember your safe word?” You repeat the question. Eren looks you in your eyes, swallowing heavily before giving you a slight nod. “Do you need it?” You ask him. He pauses a moment, contemplating his next move. You waited patiently, your big brown eyes staring into his. He takes another choppy breath before shaking his head no. A sadistic feline smile graces your plump lips as you send him over the edge

“Then cum in this pussy daddy.”

His body shudders on top of yours. “Oh my…Ba-baby, I can’t.” He stuttered. “Of course you can baby. I know you can.” You encourage him. You reposition your feet under your body, pressing them flat against the mattress so that you can grind your hips up towards his body. Eren bites down into his lips, his eyes rolling at the sensation of your bodies pleasing each other once again. “Do I feel good to you baby?” You tease him. He lets out a low guttural moan. “I can’t hear you.” You state, demanding a response from him. “Yes.” he whispers, not wanting to break. He was always the one in control. He was the pleaser, the one to care for you. This was different for him and he wasn’t sure about how far you were willing to go. But he wanted to. For once in his life, he wanted to feel something real and allow himself the luxury of being cared for. But that wouldn’t mean he would give in so easily. But that wouldn’t stop you from trying.

“Are you holding back from me daddy?” You tease him. He shakes his head in response, trying desperately to swallow the lump in his throat as your hips continue to grind against his dick. “It’s your pussy daddy. Take it.” You revel in the way his restraint was crumbling at your words. His composure slips as the transference of dominance shifted from his body to yours. “Fuck me daddy.” Your voice carries through the room. Eren felt himself toppling over the edge, the buildup he was holding back threatening to flood your walls. “Come on. I’ve been a good girl daddy please. I promise.” You sweet talk him. Your gazes meet and he stares down into your glossy eyes, tears slipping out the corners. He never takes the time to really look into to your eyes during sex but this time, he held your gaze like it was the last time he would see it. It was as if something snapped in place. A new level of possession overtook his senses as his eyes darkened.

Eren pulled his arms from your sides, sliding his hands down to your wrists. His long fingers gripped both wrists, pinning them together in a wrist lock above your head. The growl that comes from his body is nothing he’s never experienced before as he begins to stroke faster. “Yes, baby.” You cry out to him, head tossed back in bliss as your manicured toes curls into Cs beneath you. Eren widens his legs so that he can sink lower into the bed and fuck you deeper, aggression increasing with his pace. “Rennie, please—just like that baby. Fuck, you’re in my fucking stomach.” You cry. “Yeah you like that shit huh? You like me fucking you like this?” He asks. “Yes, baby. I love it. Fuck, i love it.” “Shit.” he says. He pounds your pussy without remorse, your eyes travel down his chest to where your bodies were connecting.

Your belly jumping every time his dick made contact. Thick hot spirals of energy light your body on fire as your cheeks flush from the heat. Fuck he’s going to make me cum again. You tense up, the arch in your back expanding but you watch while he continues to stroke you. “Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty babydoll. You taking this dick like a champ baby.” Eren praises you. “Baby, you're going to make me cum. Please.” Your body shakes and convulses under his touch. He grunts, strokes getting heavy. “Fuck Rennie, you’re going to split me in pieces.” You cry out as your body gushes underneath him. You release a noise you never heard before as you feel yourself let go. “Fuck, baby I’m going to nut.” He says as his seed paints the inside of your body. You feel the warmth raising your body temperature. His body convulsed as his dick throbs in your pussy. Damn he feels so fucking good. He sits there breathing heavily, still for a moment as you both process everything that happened.

“You didn't use your safe word.” You state looking up at the ceiling. “Neither did you.” He whispered. He stares down at you as you stare up into bliss. Eren took the time to take you in. Your thick hair fluffed all around your face, face glistening with afterglow, twin toned lips parted slightly as your chest rises and falls. Eren’s heart strummed in his chest. What the fuck. His brows furrowed slightly at the unfamiliar feeling trying to take over him again. You finally turned to meet his gave and his heart nearly jumped into your hands. “You okay Rennie?” You say softly. “Ye-yeah. We should get you cleaned up babydoll.” He smiles at you. “You’re finished already?” You pout. His eyes widened in shock. “You’re not??” You shrug your shoulders at his response. “It’s been a while.” You say shifting your body up. He gets caught off guard for a moment at the intensity of your stare. You smirk, pushing into his chest until he is pressed back onto the bed, your body hovering over his, pussy still dripping with both of your releases. “Babydoll.” His breath quickens, tones hands gripping your waist as he tries to force them to stop shaking.

“Relaaaax. I’m not going to do anything crazy.” You say as you lean down and press your lips to his, savoring in the softness. Your tongue grazes against his lips pulling a soft moan from his mouth into yours. You separate for air, instead trailing kisses across his jaw and up behind his ear. “Fuck…” His hands squeeze you in warning. “Okay, okay. I'm done.” You pull back. “I need food.” You unmount him and slip down the bed, feet pressing into the floor. Your legs shake underneath you and you reach out to steady yourself. “You good babydoll?” He asks coming to sit in front of your standing frame. You nod slightly, trying to get your balance. “I got you princess.” He slips off the mattress and comes up behind you. He leans you back into his arm and the other wraps around the back of your knees, lifting you bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom to get cleaned up. “Rennie?” You ask. “Hmm?” He responds. “You should apologize more often.” You tease. He laughs out loud, “Yeah, sure. As much as you want babygirl.” He says before prepping your bath.

[thetrashbinseries]

— Fahrenheit ( bangchan x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

parts - one, two (explicit)

warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst

x x x

“It’s not rocket science, Chris."

My annoyance hits the roof. What the hell is his problem? Why's he turning this into a damn soap opera?

"You're back in LA. New York—yes or no?"

Chris tiptoes the line ever since last year's scandal close shave. I get playing it safe, but I'm alone in a six-bedroom Jersey fortress. In the U.S. media game, I'm golden. No cancel threats, not yet in my rising career.

But the spotlight got hotter after the last single went viral. Chris, in the crosshairs of relentless management, dances a careful routine.

He's the big shot, leader of the world's hottest K-pop group. His company would shoot themselves in the foot by axing him. Yet, Mr. Libra doesn't dig rocking the boat.

"-I want to, babe, but it's too risky right now."

I sigh. Twisting my computer chair, neon lights bathe me in purples and reds. I'm in the studio, bullshitting on songs for the third album.

I've had it. "Catch you later, Chris." The call drops, facedown on the desk, anger swirling.

"Seriously, fuck you." I spit out, taking it personally.

Being a foreigner feels like the snag. His industry would call me a disgrace tagging along.

I don't need that energy.

Am I settling as his 'little secret'? I'm 29, he's 27 – grown folks. Pings remind me of him, but I silence the noise. Facetime interrupts, Jake, the friend with benefits. Games or busy, no time for emotional plays.

Warner signed my band, deep in commitments, mind racing. A shrink's gift? Adderall for my ADHD.

Now, even less time for the BS.

"Hey, daddy." I purr, thickening my accent.

Jake’s smile fades as he eyes me. "What?" I giggle,

"Stop playing with me like that, y/n."

"How am I playing with you?"

"You're gonna end up with your legs cocked back like last time, girl, cool it."

Laughter ensues. I glimpse his background – a parking garage stairwell. We catch up every couple of weeks via Facetime.

"Where are you at?" I squint.

"Recognize it?" Jake turns his phone, revealing the New York City skyline.

"You're out here? Aw, shit." I lean back in my chair, a half-cocked grin, tongue behind my lower lip.

"Aw, shit is right! What's up? What are you up to tonight?"

I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "Nah, uh, Jake. We gotta play nice. I got a good thing going on right now."

He sighs, exasperation audible. "You two still a thing? Thought you were photographed over there, outside the JYPE building?"

"I was."

"They ain't letting that fly, you serious, y/n?"

"I mean, they're being hard on him, but we're still trying to make it work." I express more hope than Chris does. Jake’s viewpoint is valid – he's been through the K-pop circuit, burned out, went solo, and found massive international success.

Which is why he bitches about it.

It's unfair.

"I do wanna see you, though," I admit, the need for an adventure kicking in.

"That's my girl. Hey, I'm about to hop in the car. Should be able to make it over in twenty. You at your spot in Jersey?"

"Yes, I am, Jake, but don't come in on no bullshit."

"I'm always on bullshit. See you in twenty."

Jake hangs up before I can fight back.

Why is my grin so wide? I roll my eyes at my own excitement, surprised at how genuinely thrilled I am to be around someone who wants to be with me. Scanning Chris's messages puts me in a better mood.

babydaddy: there’s no way you just hung up like that -_-

babydaddy: this is my life…my career…

babydaddy: why can't you be more patient?? this is hard for me too…

babydaddy: we need to talk tomorrow…

babydaddy: about us, and where this is going.

The last message triggers something in me. My stomach twists like it always does before bad news. It doesn't change, whether in poverty in my hometown or a small Jersey mansion. The same sunken gut reaction. We've been going back and forth, but this sounds... final. At some point, he'll grow sick of it. I know I have.

Yet, there's so much I love about Chris. Selfishly, I don't want him with anyone else. He's the man of my dreams, flawed as he is, he’s human. My human. I panic, feeling like my boat has sprung a leak, desperate to plug it somehow.

Knowing myself, I turn my phone upside down, placing it on my desk and stand up, distancing myself from the setting. Something else would trap me; all I want is not to reply to him with charged emotion. It wouldn't help anything.

Jake’s on his way over.

I take a deep breath, letting my anxiety settle. I'll talk to him; he always has good insight and wisdom beyond his years. I look at myself in the mirror. I'm in comfy mode, barefoot, walking across hardwood floors.

Entering the dimly lit kitchen, I brew hot chocolate, curling my toes against the balls of my feet, cracking knuckles as I chew my lower lip, mind drifting to Chris. Resistance is weaker now; the reasons to text back sound more convincing. I shake my head, trying to clear my mind, grab my cup, and sip as I walk past my bearded dragon's tank. It's late; he's asleep, tucked into his pink bed. I stare at each plant, trying to keep my thoughts in check.

My outdoor motion detection buzzes the smartwatch on my wrist, signaling someone's arrival. I glimpse headlights through my foyer. My grin widens; I bite my lip, urging myself to behave.

"Alexa, shuffle my evening playlist on Spotify, downstairs."

The nearest speaker obeys, filling the space with music. My dog scurries around my feet as the doorbell rings, and my bigger dog's deep barks echo throughout the house.

“Hey, cool it!" I shout at them, stepping over the little one weaving through my legs, nipping my ankles for some ungodly reason. I open the door, visibly exasperated, while my larger dog bellows from the top of the stairs.

Jake points to her behind me, furrowing his brows dramatically. "I thought we were friends!"

My dog hurls another final, loud bark before slowly making her way down the stairs. I let Jake in, lock the door, and he takes off his shoes, grabbing a disposable guest pair from the basket by the front door. I turn, starting down the hall, and Jake’s full body weight slams into me from behind, arms wrapping around my body, causing me to stumble. Seemingly unpredictably, he stops us from falling while laughing. I catch my footing, give him a firm shove, swipe stray hair behind my ear, and correct the other side, giving him a side-eye.

"Now, you know damn well I'm too clumsy for some stupid shit like that," I scoff, turning into the living room. I walk over to the glass coffee table near the sofa, grab the nearby gold electric candle lighter, tip it into the wide, three-wick candle, and light each of their blackened tips. The scents of apple-cinnamon, cedar, sandalwood, and vanilla fill the room, complemented by the warm orange glow of well-placed LED lights. I sit on the edge of the sofa, and Jake takes his favorite spot on the oversized black beanbag chair nearby. He pulls his hood off, followed by his knitted beanie, ruffling his dark brown hair.

I've got to say, Jake is a handsome guy, no doubt about it.

But I've got problems, and I've caught heavy feelings for one of my biggest headaches lately—Christopher Bang.

We're in this so deep, at least on my end.

I start to think a little harder, trying to see beyond the rose colored glasses for a moment. His text plays through my head as I scroll on my phone, my excuse being searching for another song to skip to on Spotify. But, of course, I get back to the messages Chris sent earlier.

"About us, and where this is going…"

We'd never had an official conversation about being exclusive. We met by chance, fell for each other, and started sneaking around together. I consider Chris my boyfriend, and I’m saved in his phone under ‘baby.' That's got to mean something, right?

The horror begins to set in—has this been a situationship this whole time? Is that why he never went public?

Anxiety creeps in.

"Yo," Jake snaps his fingers, waving his fingers. Damn, I must've been really distracted, crinkled brows as I stare into my phone, thumb tapping against the glass but not doing anything. I look up at him, raising my brows as if I had just briefly missed something he recently said.

"Hm?" I ask.

He's sitting up more, his left hand stroking one of my cats. "Talk to me, girl," he gestures to the marble ashtray with half of a joint, "And pass it."

I lean forward, grabbing the pink joint and placing it between my lips. I use the lighter nearby, sparking it, blowing a few times, the smoke thick and pungent, rising into the air. I tap it into the ashtray and lean over, passing it his way. Jake takes it graciously, placing it between the center of his pink lips and taking a big inhale. He holds it in, nodding, looking down at it as he blows the smoke out the side of his mouth.

"Chris and I got into it again. He told me they were coming to LA for a show over at KCON, and he was like 'maybe I can fly over to see you,' trying to fit it in, delaying his trip to Korea by like three days, which didn’t seem like a big deal. But then after everything ended, he was just hyper-aware of the attention on them and changed his mind," I begin to explain. Jake has taken a few hits during my story; he's leaning forward, passing me the joint again. I take it, hitting it.

"Did he say why?" he asks. Jake’s voice is low, even-toned. He’s invested in my story and the way I’m feeling, I can tell by the way his laser focus is on me as I speak. His eye contact is intense, fiery, the Aries in him.

"No, he didn’t, and that’s what frustrated me, so we got on a call tonight. He like—called me and was dancing around it, and I was like 'look, it’s not hard, are you coming to New York or not.' I was just... over it," I reply, pausing to take another hit before passing it to Jake once more. "He was all 'I want to, baby, but it's too risky.'” I mock his Aussie accent, and Jake can’t help the cough of smoke that comes out from trying to repress a laugh. He turns his head, full-on coughing a couple of times before he catches his breath again.

"Do you need water?" I ask, successfully holding back my own laugh. I don’t wait for his reply, instead, standing up and taking a few steps over to the mini-fridge and grabbing a bottle of spring water, handing it to him.

Plopping back down on the couch, I sigh. "So I didn’t even let him get the rest of it out. I was like 'ok, I’ll talk to you later' and like, hung up."

Jake places the burnt-out joint tip into the tray, effectively ending our puff-puff-pass session, making us both more relaxed and a little spacey. "Oof, y/n, this is... such a unique situation that very few people go through, and even fewer non-K-idols. I mean, I don’t agree with any of it, right? But it’s not me, and Chan, he’s in like–the peak of their career as a boy group, dude." Jake shakes his head, sitting back, my cat jumping from his lap, considering him having moved too much for his comfort.

"I don’t—care," I blurt.

Jake’s head drops back with a sigh before he picks it up again. "That’s probably part of the problem. Chan’s risking his career; Korea is no joke when it comes to this shit. I promise you, unless you’re physically in the industry as an idol over there, you have no idea. It’s so obsessive, and these companies, the management, they will not let you breathe, and the bigger you are—the tighter they hold onto you because there’s so much more to lose at that point."

He only leaves a half second of pause before he says, "I don’t think you’re compatible with—nor do you deserve, that kind of relationship with anyone."

Ouch.

It hurts that much more because—he’s right

"Now that doesn’t make Chan a bad person, or you a weak person. He’s got a right to this life he’s worked super hard to get to, and you’ve got a right to someone to love you the way you want to be loved, especially while you’re in the beginning stage of becoming great yourself. It’s a huge distraction—maybe not a relationship, but like, that kind of relationship."

I can do nothing but sigh, throwing my hands up and sitting back onto the couch, feeling, well, defeated. Can you blame me? It fucking sucks, the reality of it all that I was trying to avoid.

"Fuck," I finally say aloud.

Jake’s looking at me; I know he feels bad for breaking it down so plain, but he does it because he cares about me and wants the best for me, and I know that. “You still do what you want; it’s your life. Whatever you two decide is what you two decide, but that’s just—my limited experience.”

I scoff with a roll of my eyes, “Limited experience. Yeah ok.”

He laughs.

We both understand the subtext of the brief exchange.

“He says we need to talk tomorrow, about us and ‘where this is going’,” I say with air quotes.

“I mean, hey, it’s an opportunity to get your concerns out there, listen to his, and decide what’s best for you. He’ll decide what’s best for him. If that’s being together, great, if not, great. Either way, you’ll be ok. That’s how I like to see these kinds of things.” Jake says, his words profound and his perspective valuable to me. He leans forward, “We’ve known each other like what? Almost a year now?” I nod to confirm, and he continues, “In that short period of time, I can just—tell that you’re a strong person; you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you weren’t. If you ever need someone to talk to, my line is always open.”

I let another long breath go before laying across the sofa on my stomach, bringing myself closer to Jake as I lazily hug a pillow, resting my chin atop it. His advice is logged in my thoughts. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore—the way he phrased it did something to lower my anxiety so I was going to let sleeping dogs lie. “What about you, huh? What’s got you on the East Coast? You’re never over here, rarely in America anymore for real.”

“Yeah, I’ve been—busy, but it’s a blessing, you know? I’m so grateful that so many people support me, as a solo artist, doing my own thing, my way.” Jake never fails to acknowledge those around him that have supported him, and keeps himself grounded and humble somehow through being an international celebrity. “But I was at the Versace show over in Soho. I’ve got a couple of other shows to see for New York Fashion Week, but I touched down and had to come see you.”

I lift a brow. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Jake.”

Without hesitation, he fires back, “I’m not asking you to, y/n.”

It’s enough to drag a snort from me.

He laughs, “The hotels get lonely, and most places I go, I don’t know anyone. I like it here; you’ve done a lot since the last time I was here.” Jake looks around at the decor. He points to a painting of a cat skeleton on a black canvas. “That’s new, I like it.” He says.

“Yeah? I do too; it’s simple but it matches the vibe of the space, I found it by accident one day.”

When Jake says the hotels are lonely, I believe him. He often confides in me about how lonely his lifestyle can be and how it can drive him so crazy that he’ll call everyone through his phone until someone answers, and when that person hangs up, he’ll keep going. More often than not, he doesn’t have anyone to call, despite my insisting that I was an option. Some nights, when it gets really bad, he’ll have a tendency towards drinking, which is something I don’t like, and we’ve talked about ad nauseam. Of course, he’s always welcome in my safe spaces.

“So what’s new with the band? When you texted me the other day, you had like, tons of shit going on that you were freaking out about.” Jake cracks open the bottle of water, taking a gulp.

“I’m flying out to LA next week for a couple of events, but we’re like focused on album three right now; I’ve been locked in the studio just writing.”

“Ok, ok, you got anything for me to hear yet?” He seems to perk up to ask this question.

“Eh, nothing I’m ready to show or anything, just fragments of songs right now. The label is really pushing the work we did with album two to build the hype up for album three, and that’s the one they funded.” I kick my feet slowly in the air behind me as I talk.

“We should do a song together.” Jake says, quite suddenly. He can tell I’m taken aback. I mean, creatively, Jake and I get along great, but we had never discussed merging on a record before. “An official song, I think it could sound incredible.”

I immediately want to agree, of course, but I have a couple of hurdles I know I need to jump now that I’ve gotten to this point in my career. I hated that. I used to be able to agree to a collaboration immediately. But Jake had even more hoops to jump through; he couldn’t commit to something official now either.

So why was he proposing it?

“I gotta ask the label—”

“Fuck the label, dude.” Jake waves his hand, “They don’t have to know anything, not yet. We’ll just work together and see what happens. Whaddya say?”

It takes no thought for me to reply,

“Let’s do it.”

—

Jake wore me down enough to bring him down into the studio, insisting he didn't have anything important to do until tomorrow evening. I don't want to encourage his drinking, but when he spots the whiskey decanter, he gestures to it as I sit down in the main chair in front of the soundboard.

"What’s in there? Hennessy?" He answers his own question as I spin around in the chair to see what he’s talking about. He’s already over at the mini bar, opening it up and whiffing.

"Yeah, but I rarely drink it. I got it for guests." I turn towards my soundboard again, powering it up and waiting for the two large screens to load. I add another thought to the end of my sentence, albeit, to myself. Not like I have guests anyway.

Jake comes over with a glass, the brown liquor sloshing around as he tilts it in my direction. I roll my eyes, taking it, and he’s already got his glass, which he holds out for a toast.

"To the music," Jake says.

"The music." I oblige, clinking his glass and taking my gulp down a lot less gracefully than he does his, before he pours up another for himself. "Don’t overdo it; you’re gonna have a nasty hangover, and I won’t be the one to blame for it." I press a few buttons, and the house lights lower, back to the blue and purple hue I was sitting in earlier.

"I am a grown man that knows my limits." Jake states, matter-of-factly. He sits in the rolling chair at the table alongside me, pulling himself up to the soundboard and sitting back in his chair, sipping his drink as his eyes dance across the screens while I click around, pulling up my digital audio workstation of choice.

I point to the keyboard nearest to him, "Press a key for me?" He does, confirming it's connected and functional, the note ringing out through the monitors.

"Aw yeah." Jake sits up, setting his glass down on the designated cupholder space on the edge of the mixing table as he places both hands on the keys, beginning to fiddle with the limited random keys and chords he had learned how to play while being forced to learn as a trainee. "Damn, it’s been so long." He says, a half smile on his face. I can tell he’s reminiscing, I just can’t tell if it’s good or bad. "You’re so lucky to have control over your music, you know that?" He says, looking over at me before focusing back on the instrument again, slender fingers of his right hand climbing up the keys.

"I don’t really have total control, not anymore. Not sure I ever did." I say with a sigh. "It’s always been like—an Eli and me thing, not just a ‘me’ thing. I just get a little more attention because I’m the one out front, singing." I continue to explain. Jake’s stopped playing, instead choosing to lean in his chair and eye me over the top of his glass as he sips, listening to me with an empathetic nod. "Now with a major label involved, there are so many other factors now."

"You get the final say though, right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I do." I say with uncertainty, not because it isn’t true, but because it still feels like the decisions I make have to be based on what everyone else thinks is best for us. If I vehemently object, I’m persuaded down to the decisions of others. Sometimes, it feels like I’m being gaslit. But I don’t have much time to ruminate on that, since everything is moving forward at top speed.

"Guess it’s complicated?" Jake concedes.

I nod.

"Girl, you got it," Jake croons in his gruff voice, eyes closed, fingers snapping to start a rhythm. "And I know it, baby, why don’t you?”

I nod, sliding him away from the keys as I hit some chords to match his singing. Unsure if it's a freestyle or something pre-written, I catch the composition unfolding. Music flows through me effortlessly—my natural talent that's brought me this far. It didn't happen overnight, but creating is the part of music that feels like pure joy, a distraction from all the BS.

Soon, we're vibing out a hook, laughing for hours, blending funk with '90s groove, a nostalgic fusion. My phone rings, freezing me in place. The weight of unresolved problems crashes over me. Jake senses it; I bolt before he protests. His eyes speak understanding; he knows when to let me deal with my demons. I answer the phone, attempting to steady my voice.

“Hello?”

“You answered.”

It’s Chris.

His voice is tired, ironic, as if he couldn’t believe it himself but didn’t care.

It irritates me. Why call back so soon if compromise isn't on the table?

“I just called to say, that I’ll be there in about four hours.”

A lump forms in my throat; I glance around for a clock. Holed up in the studio with Jake, time escaped me.

“But you said—“

‘First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark, First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark.’

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you in a few, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

The phone beeps, leaving me in stunned silence. The studio's muted song hums in the background. I'm not ready to face it yet, still figuring out what this sudden visit means.

“Said I wouldn’t do this.” I mutter, pressing my fists against my forehead, heaving a frustrated sigh. I vowed not to let another man stir my emotions, yet here I am—almost having a meltdown. But my feelings are valid. No explanation after a heated argument, and suddenly he's on his way here?

Maybe he got another perspective from the members or his friends. Maybe he thought about it. Either way, he'll be here in four hours. We can hash it out then.

I muster the calm to return to the studio. Jake sits back, his chair turning towards me. “Well?”

I plop onto the nearby sofa. “He’s boarding a flight here now, said he’ll be here in four hours.”

Jake’s brows lift in surprise. “See? I told you…this was going to push you two in some direction it needed to go. Four hours? My man, okay BangChan!” Jake laughs, toasting with his glass. “So I added some drums, check it out.” He plays the track; the groove multiplies.

“You added that part too?” I notice another musical flair, and he nods proudly. After a few seconds, he turns it off, a slow fade of the volume knob.

“I think that’s enough for me to work with for now, what do you think?”

"The skeleton is definitely there, but what about more instruments?" I question. Jake pushes his chair back, picks up his hoodie, slipping it on as he stands up.

“It’s enough to write to; we can come back to it; if Chan’s on his way here, the last thing he needs is to see another guy here late night.” He slips on his shades, his phone reflected in them as he orders an Uber Black. I didn't think he cared like this, feeling closer to him; he did what he felt was best. I was freaking out about how to get him out in time, and Jake took the initiative.

A relieved sigh escapes me. “I owe you.”

“Absolutely nothing. You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. I had a good time here tonight.” He tucks his phone in his jacket pocket. “Twelve minutes.”

I nod. “Follow me upstairs, I made some cookies yesterday; you can take some with you.”

“Ooh what kind?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“A classic.”

[mangotreesims]

poor elias, i too would cry if my cake turned out like that

i bet the kid's eyes were burning, they deffo tried to wash them with soap to get the image of their mum woohooing with daniel pleasant on their couch out of their mind lol

so...don got struck by lighning and then the tree got stuck by lightning as the grim reaper was collecting his soul creepy right

no one was in the mood to celebrate elias' birthday :(

wonder who kaylynn's babydaddy is??

[niawritesbs]

A Daddy

John "Soap" MacTavish x Poc Fem! Reader During a meeting, Ghost realizes Soap is missing. He goes looking for him and see's him having a facetime call on a computer with a beautiful woman and a newborn baby on the other side of the screen.

Notes: Ngl to yall. I think this one isn't my best but imma still post it cause I want to. Hope it isn't that bad of a read, suggestions are welcomed anytime!!

"We're missing someone, aren't we? He's usually the first one here to these meetings." Gaz sat in the chair furthest from the front but directly next to Price. He wasn't that worried since neither Price nor Laswell was concerned about the missing scot, but he was curious as to where he could be.

Someone who was more curious about where the Mohawk was was Ghost. Although he'd rather die than ever utter this out loud, Soap's gruffly accent is what he looks forward to in the mornings. It lets him know that he's made it to another day and somewhat grounds him and keeps him in tune with reality when (although it's rare) he feels himself slipping. So seeing him missing was the first thing he noticed when he was the last to walk into the room and Laswell immediately started talking.

"He's been excused for the time being. He can be filled in by Price later when he's finished with his business." Laswell continued with the information she had after clearing the air about the missing Sargeant. Ghost didn't dwell on it any longer and paid attention to the meeting until it finished 30 minutes later.

After being dismissed, they all went their separate ways doing god knows what. Ghost had set off to stroll around making sure he had nothing else to do before he retired to his room to go over the files he and the rest were given in the meeting.

Simon wasn't one to wander the base. Not that he hadn't engraved every part of it into his memory out of instinct, but, he wasn't one to explore unless necessary. His small walk turned into him mindlessly looking for his Scottish partner in crime, and while it is out of character for him to be so curious as to where Soap was, he couldn't help but look.

Ghost eventually walked past a conference room and he knew from the room number he was getting close to the visitation room. That room was for family calls or special access visitations from family members if you had high enough clearance. As he was walking, he heard the missing man's ruff Scottish voice cooing in some sort of baby talk. Ghost walked up to the open room door silently and stood there seeing Soap sitting in front of a laptop cooing softly at it, he tilted his head to see what had him that way. A dog maybe?

'That sounds like something Johnny would do.'

When Ghost tilted his head, he was surprised to see a newborn baby and a beautiful woman with dark skin on the other side of the screen. A big, tired smile was on the woman's face as she held the baby in her arm. Soap leaned his head on his folded arms on the table with the softest look ghost had ever seen. His eyes held such love and devotion that if she were in front of him he'd be worshiping her from head to toe.

"I see someone is excited to be a daddy. You know he looks just like you if you squint. He's the spitting image of you John it's crazy" The pretty lady on the other side of the screen lightly giggled at the end of her sentence, her accent sounding foreign. A chuckle soon came from Soap's lips as he stared at his newborn son in his lover's arms.

"If anything he looks more like you to me. Well either that or it's the laptop's shitty ass quality and he really does look like me." There was a pause before he sighed heavily. "I can't wait to see you, baby, you and little Bailey" Soap's voice held a sadness Ghost hadn't heard before. It was like he was a different man completely. Not that Soap wasn't an expressive man, quite the opposite actually, but, he only ever showed anger, cheekiness, joy, and other neutral emotions. Never quite showing complete sadness and happiness.

Ghost felt that he was invading something private by listening and watching. Something intimate and special it almost flustered him, so he turned from the door frame and started walking ahead, only for his name to be called by the man he just left in the room. He turned to see Soap by the door waving him over to come back. It looks like the woman on the screen saw Ghost and mentioned it to him. Now that he was back, Soap tugged Ghost back into the room with a broad smile. He was gonna be able to show his beloved his best mate on the force and he was ecstatic.

"Darlin, This is Ghost, he's a part of my team. He's the scary brute around here scaring the new recruits" A gruff exhale came from the said man. He was being introduced to someone without his consent but then again, it was his fault for seeking out the Scot in the first place.

Ghost stared into the screen at the curious woman. He had to say she was quite stunning. Dark skin, frizzy hair (he's guessing from the baby in her arms, the messy hair is from childbirth), and small eyebags that showed her fatigue just a bit. His eyes zoomed in on the tiny baby laying in the woman's arms. They had blue eyes and their facial features for a newborn looked scarily identical to their father's.

"The champ looks like me, aye? She says he does and I believe it. The MacTavish genes in me run strong." Soap bosted proudly with a grin seeing his sweetheart smile at his words. Ghost nodded and looked at Soap with Amusement but something he couldn't explain. Simon felt joy for Soap. As chipper as the Scot was, there were times he'd see him at his lowest, like he was ready to rid of it all, to take the coward's way out. Alas, he would always bounce back in the next few hours to bug the hell out of ghost and talk his ear off but he knew how the lass would. Soap having another bundle of joy to keep him grounded and to keep him motivated to stay alive was something Ghost was happy about.

Soon, it was time for Soap's lover to go. She was tired evidently so Soap said his I love you's and his goodbye's solemnly and the call ended. Soap sighed and stood up, walking out of the room, toe-in-toe with Ghost, walking the hall, and heading back to the barracks.

"You know, I didn't think you would have a lover much less a child. From your bad jokes, I assumed your pickup lines were just as bad." An offended gasp came from Soap's mouth upon hearing the Brit's words.

"I'll have you know she loves my pickup lines thank you. They're part of my charm she says." Ghost could hear the adoring tone of his voice at the end. He really loved his girlfriend and vowed hed marry her soon as he is able to leave. Ghost chuckled and they walked in comfortable silence.

Soap became a daddy that day, and Ghost was happy for him.

[bakudomaster]

Hot In Cleveland

Greetings to literally no one! Hopefully that will change....

I’ve had this account for a while now and I’ve finally thought about what I want to use it for.

Starting today, this will be a literary analysis of some of the entertainment media I have consumed over the years. Why you ask? Hmmmm, that’ll be for a later post. I hope that you enjoy reading this!

WARNING: THESE POSTS WILL UNASHAMEDLY CONTAIN SPOILERS!

Today, we’ll begin with a sitcom that’s very close to my heart - Hot In Cleveland

[cue title music - ba ba ba baaaa... ba ba baaa... dwing dwing HEY!]

PREMISE

Hot in Cleveland first premiered in 2010 on TV Land as their first ever original production. Up until that point, the network was well known for airing reruns of previously ended shows, such as The Cosby Show and The Golden Girls. One of the producers of the show was Sean Hayes of Will & Grace fame.

The show revolves around three middle-aged women bound for Paris to forget their troubles of broken hearts and struggling careers when their plane makes a emergency landing in Cleveland, Ohio. Deciding to explore the city, they find it a more compassionate and welcoming than the glamorous, youth obsessed Los Angeles and decide to relocate there. When they rent a house, they find it comes with a decidedly snarky housekeeper.

CAST & CHARACTERS

Valerie Bertinelli as Melanie Moretti - a recently divorced one-time author, she has known very little beyond her roles as mother and wife. She tends to be very optimistic and romantic, often to the annoyance of her friends. Out of the younger trio, she takes the most to Cleveland and tries new things to broaden her horizons. She is the most compassionate out of the three, often being the glue that binds them together. Though she’s a very nice character to watch, she lacks true grit and comes off as a pushover at times. I don’t know much about Valerie’s work before the show, but she does do quite well, with her natural warmth and friendliness coming through.

Wendie Malick as Victoria Chase - an ambitious but ditzy soap opera actress, she has just had her show cancelled and falls into despair at not being in the public eye anymore. Self-centered and willing to do almost anything, Victoria is the least enthusiastic about moving to Cleveland due to the lack of botox and paparazzi among other things. Over time, she takes on various projects to try and revive her career, resulting in an Emmy & Oscar win. Wendie Malick is best known for her role on Just Shoot Me as well as her voice acting in various shows and movies, such as The Emperor’s New Groove and BoJack Horseman. She’s an absolute delight to watch here, completely immersing herself in the role and surrendering to Victoria’s insanity.

Jane Leeves as Rejoyla ‘Joy’ Scroggs - a beautician with a business that’s starting to fail, Joy’s real problem is being unlucky in love. From being abandoned by her teenage sweetheart when she fell pregnant by him, to being left at the altar on her wedding day, Joy’s endless parade of bad luck has left her cynical and just a tad yandere for any man who dares cross her (watch out boys...). She’s neutral to Cleveland, but secretly longs for romance and eventually settling down to start a family. Jane is best known for her work on Fraiser. She’s initially a bit frigid over the first two seasons but warms up to the role as she gains more prominence in the show over the later seasons.

Betty White as Elka Ostrovsky - an escapee from WWII Poland, she is a widow who lives in the house as a caretaker. Though she finds the LA trio’s obsession with glitz and glamour very strange, she quickly makes friends with them to varying degrees, often dispensing advice and acting as a voice of reason when the others get a bit too crazy or feel despondent. She is very proud of Cleveland, eventually becoming its mayor and is not averse to doing things outside of the law. Betty White has a career in television spanning over 80 years. She was initially only supposed to appear in the pilot episode but the audience response was quite positive so the producers upgraded her to series regular.

STRUCTURE, WRITING & DEVELOPMENT

The series plays out as a typical slice-of-life sitcom. The idea of older women living together and going through life isn’t new - think Golden Girls in the modern era and you pretty much have the gist of the show. However, is that such a bad thing? I think every TV era needs a show that focuses on the challenges one faces as the march of time proceeds; something that feels comfortable without pushing the boundaries too much and HiC was that for a generation who missed out on Betty White’s previous hit show. It wasn’t cerebral watching and it didn’t need to be.

In line with this, many of the plots are taken out from well known tropes that have developed over the years. Love triangles, a vapid rivalry in Hollywood, false pregnancies and lost loves returning all play part in the show’s six season run, edited and polished for character context. This is a big part of why the show felt so familiar to many viewers. Script structures followed one of three methods:

Characters A & B take part in subplot 1 whilst C & D take part in subplot 2 - this proves most effective for humor, balancing out the plot and giving each character something to work with

Characters A & B take part in subplot 1, C in subplot 2 and D in subplot 3 - this proves most effective for character development but can feel too scattered at times

Characters A, B, C & D take part in the main plot - this is most effective for plot lines, usually occurring at season premieres or finales

In terms of character development, the main trio of ladies find fulfillment in each other’s status. I’ll explain:

Melanie was an author but didn’t really have much experience in the working world, choosing instead to derive her satisfaction from being a mother and a wife. Now that her marriage is over and her kids are in college, she feels lost and doesn’t know what to do with herself. Over the course of the show, she has a series of meaningful relationships but develops the most in her career;becoming a column writer, a public relations assistant, a radio show host and a restaurant manager. This is what Victoria was trying to achieve at the beginning of the show.

Victoria is an out of work actress who has to resort to all sorts of tricks to get back into the public eye. Her approach is hit and miss, but she eventually goes on to win an Emmy and an Oscar, along with some work in critically acclaimed stage plays and a brief period as a news reporter. Despite this, she finds more satisfaction in her love life (despite being married EIGHT times!), eventually marrying her one true love at the end of the series. This is what Joy was trying to achieve at the start.

Joy is struggling as a beautician who looks for love in handsome men and one night stands, but never seems to catch a break. Her love life goes from bad to worse and her relationships fail due to a combination of her own issues with trust and the fact that the men she loves aren’t that great to begin with. She eventually puts her cynicism and stalking tendencies (I told you to watch out for her!) to good use, studying criminology and becoming a private detective. She also reconnects with her son that she gave up for adoption and gleefully accepts when she finds out that she’s a grandmother. Long story short, she’s looking for stability and finds it in the most unlikely man, becoming a wife and a mother at the end of the show. This is what Melanie was looking for at the start of the show.

Over the first three seasons, a heavy emphasis is placed on Elka due to the show trying to capitalize on Betty White’s resurgence in popularity at the time. This is in spite of the fact that Elka kind of feels like a lost puzzle piece. She doesn’t really fit in to the whole cohesiveness of the other three characters. This is changed in season 4, when the character of Mamie Sue (played by Georgia Engel, Betty’s costar from The Mary Tyler Moore Show) is promoted to a recurring character. It not only gives a nice chemistry to a previously ill fitting character, it creates a parallel with the LA trio: Mamie Sue is a combination of Victoria’s airheadedness and Melanie’s kindness to Joy’s cynicism found in Elka.

The show starts off quite shakily, despite its hype, but takes a turn for the better around the fourth season. The frivolous story lines from earlier episodes are eschewed for more long term plots with more emotional impact. Themes of loneliness, love at middle age and returning to correct past regrets are explored quite deeply. The show also loses some of the LA stereotypes as it goes on.

Some really big names are booked as guest stars, some notable ones being:

Susan Lucci as a parody of herself, being Victoria’s arch-nemesis

Joe Jonas as Will, Melanie’s son

Craig Ferguson as Simon, Joy’s first love and babydaddy

Jon Lovitz as Artie Firestone, an eccentric billionaire who takes an interest in Joy

Heather Locklear as Chloe, one of Melanie’s bosses at her PR job

The entire cast of The Mary Tyler Moore Show as G.L.O.B. (Gorgeous Ladies of Bowling)

Alan Dale as Sir Emmet Lawson, a renowned actor and Victoria’s sixth husband

Rick Springfield as a parody of himself

BULLSEYES & IMPROVEMENTS

What the show gets right:

Exploring the crossroads many women face at middle age, in terms of the main aspects of life: family, love & career

Great acting, especially in the later seasons

Wendie Malick - she deserved an Emmy nomination for her acting here

Jennifer Love Hewitt as Emmy, Victoria’s eldest daughter. Seriously, watch her episodes and tell me they aren’t funny

The general lack of pressure - you don’t need much attention to cycle in and out of the show, it’s easy watching

The consistency and plot development post season 3

What I think should be improved upon:

Melanie can be TOO nice, something that’s actually picked upon by other characters. Her cancer subplot was a nice opportunity to get some grit, but most of it was just by the way and not fully delved into

Victoria’s job as a news reporter was forgotten as soon as she landed a part in a Woody Allen movie. It would have been nice for her to be in that occupation a bit more or go back to it after her Oscar win and give her a chance to be on the other side of fame

Elka’s love life - every boyfriend seems to be a copy of the other and there are way too many of them

CULTURAL & PERSONAL IMPACT

This article from the A.V. Club goes into detail about the show and I have to say, I agree with it wholeheartedly agree. HiC was a reminder of what was before the more intellectual comedies came along. It shamelessly pandered to an older generation who wanted something familiar in an ever changing landscape. The fact that it didn’t take many risks in its approach was a risk in itself. It was clearly one that paid off, given the six season run. It wasn’t a darling of the critics, but it didn’t need to be. This was a show that could be watched to generate a few laughs without the need for in depth discussion with a coworker in the break room the next day.

A few years after the show’s cancellation, Valerie Bertinelli expressed her anger at TV Land for the decision, calling it sexist. I can’t really comment on that, given that I’m not too familiar with TV Land’s other work, but I will say that HiC did what it had to do. Six seasons in an age where you’re lucky to get more than three is amazing. The plot lines tied up quite nicely at the end and in the end, that’s all that everyone wanted.

Personally, I watched this show at two very difficult times in my life. The first was at college during my final year, when deadlines loomed and twisted my stomach in anxiety. The second was a few months ago when I had quit my job and needed something to distract me from the depression. On both occasions, this show has really made me laugh and fall in love with its simplicity. It’s undemanding and solid, just what I need to get through a trying period.

WHERE TO WATCH IT

Seasons 1 to 5 are available on Amazon Prime Video

Seasons 1 to 4 are available on Hunnyhaha’s channel on Youtube

If you’re in Southern Africa, the entire series are available on Showmax

[rightpeaceofmind]

An honest introduction

Here is where I am now in life. 

I am 31 years old, still living in my home town of San Diego. I share my home with 3 of my remaining fur children (Charity Dakoda and Dallas) all of whom are reaching senior years and senior issues (FUCK ARTHRITIS MEDS ARE EXPENSIVE). Soap and Syren past in 2019, almost exactly 6 months apart and it still fucks me up but only sometimes. My household consists of my father, my partner/babydaddy/fiance, pre-teen step daughter and our 2.5yr old daughter.

i started therapy after spending 15+months suffering from some serious post partum depression after almost dying in child birth. I wanted therapy as a “save all” for my relationship with my BD because i dont want to end up as a single parent.

my goal is to sit with myself and some music and find who i want to be going forward by reflecting on who i was in the past and what choices brought me to where i am today. 

maye this is another form of therapy

[whitecanaryoflight]

My facebook newsfeed is like a soap opera.

Will she leave her shitty babydaddy? Will it be for good, or will she go back to him? 

Who’s pregnant this time? 

Which of these already-pregnant ladies are gonna have their kid first? It’s a tight race! (and what will they name their kid?)

Are they still together? Did they break up? Who is that post about this time? Her ex did what?

FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON DRAGON BALL-- I mean ALL MY CHILDREN.

[kari-izumi]

It probably didn't help that until the early 2000s, a 26 episode run per season was the norm, which meant having to toss in a few filler/clunkers to get the episode count up. Even more than the format, I think shorter TV seasons (which was the norm everywhere else in the world and we only finally caught up) has helped to trim the fat from TV shows.

But more often than not the weekly format could show something new about the characters, but often did it stick? It rarely did, not even on good shows like Star Trek TNG. Things like Crusher seeing terrorism from the side of the terrorist and Deanna Troi losing her empathic abilities we're all things that made for amazing TV, but none of it stuck afterward.

Coincidentally, the peak of the daily soap opera in America was right around the time when such shows dominated the airwaves. But they lost viewers for the same reason single story fell out of fashion: no one learned a damn thing and it got tiresome and also rampant sexism about women marrying their babydaddies and refusal to acknowledge gays exist.

i really could write an essay on how shit is that we’ve completely abandoned the monster-of-the-week episode format even when rebooting shows that relied on it to replace them with grimdark edgy plotlines where nothing feels good or accomplished at the end of the day

[parishouseofbeauty-blog]

WHO WANTS TO GET ALL NATURAL SOAP FOR ONLY $5🗣‼️‼️‼️‼️. use code “ PARISJ “ to get your man , spouse , babydaddy, or cousin a nice gift !! Holidays are coming up ! Shop on a budget NOW and use my code just for YOU ! My favorites are the coconut cream bar 😍😍 if your man has dry skin, eczema , psoriasis or razor bumps from shaving - he will love this bar or the 24k Royalty Bar !! SHOP @fourkingsonly ‼️‼️‼️. FOURKINGSONLY.COM‼️‼️‼️$5 SOAP DEALS‼️‼️ $5 SOAP DEALS‼️‼️ $5 SOAP DEALS‼️‼️ $5 SOAP DEALS‼️‼️ https://www.instagram.com/p/B4P_xnFpDWY/?igshid=1wqou05riks6k

[nieceeee]

“THE AFTERMATH”

P/S: babydaddy!eren never skips the aftercare. Ever

W/C: 1162

A/N: First request I saw was a nice little bit of fluff so here is baby daddy Eren taking care of his babydoll as he always does, fluff, aftercare, babydaddy!Eren X reader, just some cute stuff to clean your palettes before the smut comes back in😈, nicknames, shower

Side note: y’all don’t understand how much I love the support. As I’ve said this is my writing from my book that I substitute my OC for because Eren is my baby fr lol. But thank y’all for the loves, reblogs, and comments. It’s means more than you know.

Shoutout to @anabanana00 for this post🤍. I might do a second drop today for all the love

“We should probably get cleaned up babydoll.” He said, stroking the side of my head. “You finished already?” You pout. “You not?!” He huffed out a laugh, eyebrows raised in slight shock as he met my gaze. “It’s been a while.” you shrug. You took the time that he was off guard to flip him onto his back, mounting on top of him. “Babydoll…” he breathes, hands shooting up to your waist. You smile down at him, “Don’t worry, I just want to kiss you.” You say softly.

You lean down and press your lips against his, savoring in the softness. He grazes his tongue against your teeth. Your tongues tangle with each other, arching and curving in slow intimacy. Eventually you separate, needing to come up for air. You look down at his face again, green eyes hooded and glossed over, lips swollen and red.

“Come on, I need food for round two.” You tease, slipping your down his body. Your feet hit the floor and your legs wobble slightly. “You good princess?’ He asks, sliding his warm hands against your waist to help steady you. You nod, pressing your palms against the bed until you can stand solid on your feet. “I got you babydoll, Come on.” Eren stands up and lifts you in his arm bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom.

He sits you on the counter before walking to the shower and turning the water on. You lean back into your hands and watch him move around the room, collecting towels and soaps to use. Once he places everything down, Eren comes back over to you, lifting you from the counter, wrapping your thighs tightly around his slim waist. He opens your sliding door and slips into the shower before letting you slide down his body until you’re standing in front of him.

The hot water cascades down your back as you let out a low murmur of approval. He lathered the soap in the towel and took his time washing your body. Starting with your shoulders, he drags the towel down your arms and under your armpits. He takes extra time circling each of your breasts with the towel, dragging the fabric over your already sensitive nipples. You hiss slightly which makes him pause, looking into your eyes for approval to continue. You nod slightly and he starts back up again.

Once he finishes your top half he moves to your long legs. The towel moves across your body with such intensity and gracefulness. You stand in silence as you let him cater to you. He makes sure to get every crevice, moving the towel around to your ass and cleaning up the mess he made in between your thighs. Grabbing another towel, he wet it with the hot water and brushes it in between your legs. You shiver slightly as the fabric swipes your sensitive area, your arm shooting out to grip his biceps. He looks up at you from the position he is in and heat surges through your body. Those emerald eyes you love so much search your face for any discomfort as he kneels down to wash your body.

“You ok?” He asked. You nod. He continues to wipe all over you before pushing you gently underneath the running water. “Hair or no?” He asks, breaking the silence. “Yes please.” You whisper. He smiles softly, reaching to the shelf and grabbing your favorite shampoo. He squirts some in his hands, smirking to himself at the sound, his mind going back to a few minutes before. You playfully roll your eyes and shake your head at him. He lathers the shampoo under the water and gently begins to rake his fingers into your thick hair, scratching at your scalp softly.

You smile at the actions remembering the very first time you taught him to take care of your hair. He was so nervous to touch it then which completely contrasts how skilled he is with you now. “Mmm, I love it when you do this.” You say softly. “I know .” He teases. He scratches your head a little harder before rinsing then repeating the same actions with the conditioner.

“Rennie.” You call to him in a squeak. “Yes, my sweet baby doll.” He responds, brushing detangler through your hair, making sure he sections it and twists each part to the side like you showed him years ago. “I-…” you weren’t exactly sure how to ask. This all felt so domestic and natural. But that wasn’t your relationship with him. It didn’t work out that way for you all. “What are we doing?” You whisper softly. He finishes twisting your hair, squeezing the excess water out before the shower off, going to grab you a towel. You step into the fluffy cotton and wrap it around yourself.

He looks into your eyes and you could swear you saw a hint of longing there. “Ask me tomorrow.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Come on.” He leads you to the kitchen and sits you down on one of your metal stools at the island as he rummages through the fridge. He pulls out a few drinks and makes his way towards the cabinets. You watch him work his way around the kitchen as if it was second nature. His beautiful tresses are pulled into a half ponytail to keep it out of his face, a few beads of water dripping from the ends of the shorts strands that still fell over her forehead. The white towel he used to dry off is discarded and a pair of his leftover shorts hang off his hips.

Eren had given you one of his t-shirts that you loved, the letters old and worn, and left his chest bare. You take the time to admire the full arm sleeve he has, paying attention to the intricate designs in the ink that he had done on himself. He works swiftly in the kitchen, compiling a tray of snacks and drinks for you both. “Ready?” He asks. You nod again, words seemingly to be nonexistent in your brain. He grabs the tray and beckons you to follow him into the living room.

He quickly rearranges your big modular sofa into a bed, tossing your blankets and fluffy pillows together. He sits the tray next to the couch and plops down on the sofa, holding his arms out to you. You shuffle your way over to him, snuggling into his body as he turns on one of your favorite comfort movies and pulls you closer into him. That familiar scent of sandalwood and mint wafts into your nose as your body presses close to him. You feel his long fingers on your back, rubbing small circles into your skin as the movie starts to playYou allow all of it, knowing that tomorrow may bring rain but you were going to bask in the sun as long as it would stay.