#if it wasn’t obvious I have little perception of time <3< /div>
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oh my god it’s april 1st
#I may be stupid.#”hehe why can we boop each other now that’s neat” stupid stupid fbshfjdjfjfj#if it wasn’t obvious I have little perception of time <3
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young master ♡
➤ summary: You don't worship the ground Doflamingo walks on, and it turns him on a little too much. (18+)
➤ pairing: doflamingo x afab!reader
➤ word count: 3.7k
➤ warnings: kinda sub!doflamingo (he’s a horny menace), mild dubcon, possessive doffy, spit kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), degradation, name-calling
➤ notes: this takes place before dressrosa but i’m only halfway done with the arc so sorry for any inaccuracies! i haven't posted my writing online in years so please lmk what you think :3
NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu
Doflamingo was sulking. His signature smile was comically turned upside down and his arms were crossed over his chest. Feet resting on top of his desk as he leaned back in his plush office chair, crumpling the important documents strewn underneath them that he was meant to review and sign. He knew he probably looked like a petulant child, and he felt like one, too. This was all your fucking fault.
Even though you were only in your twenties, you were already a well-known Vice Admiral. Vergo had informed Doflamingo of your impressive Haki abilities months ago, but that wasn’t the only reason he kept a close eye on you. You were sexy as hell, even in a Marines uniform, and he delighted in every brief interaction he had with you at Warlord meetings. When you decided to take some time off, he snatched you up immediately with a tantalizing job offer. After all, working for him was technically still a Government job, and he was helping so many countries in need!
You made it clear from the very beginning that this was a temporary gig and you had no intention of permanently joining the Donquixote Family. You were his business partner, not his subordinate. He never planned on honoring that agreement, of course, but you were making his plans particularly difficult.
The man had hundreds of thousands – if not millions – of loyal and passive subjects. Obedient workers who never questioned his judgment and praised his iron fist, from the filthy commoners at the bottom to the Elite Officers up top. But not you.
You had the kind of effortless confidence that got under his skin. You were unbothered and detached from his evil antics, from him. He made his presence known everywhere he went and was always the focus of the room, but it seemed like you paid more attention to the damn servants than him. His threats and intimidation which made thousands tremble in fear hardly made you flinch. When he revealed the secret of Dressrosa’s toys in hopes of getting a reaction from you, you practically yawned.
You knew who he was. You knew what he was capable of. You didn’t fucking care.
You weren’t afraid of him, and this greatly disturbed him.
A few days ago, you had strolled into his office without even knocking on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but you barely took notice. You were there to discuss your agreement in order to figure out a time frame of how long he needed you. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as he said, “That’s adorable. You really think you can get away from me, hm?”
Perceptive as always, you noticed the slightest twitch of his middle finger and immediately held an Armament Haki-coated hand in front of your chest, blocking the nearly invisible string flung your way. “Doffy, I’m being serious.”
He frowned and narrowed his eyes. Diamante used that nickname once in front of you and now you wouldn’t call him anything else. You thought it was cute. “Since when can you block my strings?”
“Do you really think I’d be a Vice Admiral if I couldn’t do that? You were so obvious about it, too.” You clicked your tongue, knowing full well that anyone less powerful than you wouldn’t be able to perceive his movement. Prominent veins popped in Doflamingo’s forehead but the blonde man stayed silent. “I think I’ll stay here for a few more months, at least. Maybe longer if I don’t have a terrible time here. Dressrosa is kind of growing on me.”
“You’re acting like I can’t keep you here by force.” Doflamingo interrupted your train of thought. “I could have Sugar turn you into a cute little doll, and then your Vice Admiral position would disappear. Or Giolla could turn you into a painting to hang on my wall.” He paused as if considering his options, knowing full well what he truly wanted. “Maybe I’ll keep you tied up with strings as my own personal pet.”
Many times he’d pictured you tied to the headboard of his bed, stripped naked and covered in his drying cum as he used you however he wanted. Perhaps then he’d finally ignite a spark of fear in you.
“If you actually wanted to do that, it would’ve happened already. But you’re the one who hired me, remember?” You acted like you were explaining something obvious to a kid. “If you try anything against me, I can always call up the Navy and tell them what you’re doing to your poor innocent citizens. Maybe even let them know your alias? Begins with a J, right?”
“You wouldn’t dare.” He snarled, sitting up in his seat immediately and binding strings around your wrists to keep them pinned above your head. You kept your eyes trained on his, a determined and almost taunting glint in them.
“I’m not a big fan of blackmail, so I don’t want to do that,” you replied in an even tone. “I’m just saying that I can. Now, are we gonna talk business, or are you gonna play cat’s cradle all day?”
Doflamingo should’ve killed you right then and there. That would’ve put an end to his confusing thoughts about you, but your conversation only made them worse. You were on his mind constantly, to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything else. It was an obsession, an infatuation, one completely unbecoming of a heavenly being like himself. People were meant to grovel at his feet and kiss the very ground he walked on – why the fuck were you not affected?
He finally had enough. He pushed the chair away from his desk and stormed out of his office. Servants hurried away in fear, knowing that his scowl and heavy footsteps meant nothing but trouble. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around his mind — he wanted to make you scream, to completely immobilize you with his power, to kiss you so hard you saw stars. No, that wasn’t it.
He wanted you to call him ‘Young Master’.
Doflamingo threw open the double doors to a secluded drawing room in his typical dramatic flair. You were alone, reclining on a couch and reading a book. Even this pissed him off – you were in a potential viper’s nest, surrounded by powerful people who could turn on you at any point, yet you didn’t feel the need to keep others around you for protection. You turned your head towards the intruder in confusion. His massive body filled the door frame and light from the hallway illuminated him and his feathery coat from behind, making him look like a fallen angel.
“What Devil Fruit did you eat.” It was a statement, not a question. His voice was a dangerously low growl.
“I already told you, I didn’t eat one.” You said slowly, slightly thrown off by his demeanor but still not afraid.
“You lying bitch!” He roared, using his strings to slam the doors behind him as he crossed the room towards you in three giant steps. “You must have some kind of mind control ability, or manipulation, or… I don’t fucking know! Tell me what’s happening!” He threw his head in his hands and crouched over, almost as if he was in pain. “Why can’t I stop fucking thinking about you!”
Your mouth opened slightly and you blinked a few times to process the situation, and then it hit you. A sly grin slowly formed on your face as you dog-eared your book and set it down next to you. You knew this man was incapable of love in its purest sense, but maybe… “Doffy, have you never been attracted to someone before?”
His head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at you furiously behind his sunglasses. Of course he’d fucking been attracted to people – he refused to settle for nothing but the best with his lovers. He had fucked enough sexy men and women over the years to form a small army. But none of them were like you.
They were all cheaply made toys, suitable for one or two uses then tossed in the trash when they broke or when he got bored. He was a greedy and spoiled child who always got what he wanted. But with you… it felt like he was staring through the front window of a shop at a shiny new toy. So close and so enticing but completely out of reach.
“Fuck you! I… I…” You would never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because he sunk to his knees and hung his head in frustrated shame. He slammed his fist against the floor hard enough to rattle the room. “Why won’t you belong to me?!”
The almighty King of Dressrosa, the feared Warlord, the powerful underground broker, was on his knees begging for you. He knew he sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. But he couldn’t go a moment longer without getting what he wanted, what was rightfully his.
To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had always stood your ground because you knew your worth, but sometimes you did it to purposely push the blonde man’s buttons since no one else seemed to have the courage to do so. But you were just teasing him – this was not the outcome you had in mind.
You slowly stood from the couch to move in front of him. Even bent over, the massive man was practically your height, but he had never seemed smaller.
“Doffy,” you began in a quiet voice and reached out to gently touch his feather-clad shoulder, but he slammed the ground again.
“I don’t need you to patronize me! I need…” he trailed off again and hesitated for a moment before realizing what he needed to do to calm the fire roaring inside him. Fine, he would give you a fucking reason to worship him. He threw himself at your midsection, making you yelp in surprise. He had finally drawn a reaction out of you, and it spurred him on even more. Rough hands yanked your shirt up to your breasts and he hungrily mouthed at the soft skin of your tummy, a frenzied mess of tongue and teeth and soft lips. “I need you. Give yourself to me.” He said breathlessly, punctuating his words with a sharp bite at your hip.
You were frozen in place but weak in the knees, unable to do anything but accept his bites and bruises. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined what his long tongue and nimble fingers felt like on your body, in your body. He nipped at your skin hard enough to bruise then soothed it with his tongue, sending heat straight to your core.
Doflamingo was in a drugged-like haze, mind clouded with a dizzying mix of lust and hatred and longing. He belatedly noticed that you weren’t resisting him when he popped the button on your jeans. When he looked up, he realized your cheeks were flushed and your gaze was trained on his long fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants.
He smiled wickedly, feeling a sliver of regained control. “You fucking whore. You want this, don’t you?”
“Doffy, you’re the one literally trying to get in my pants.”
“Shut up.” He snarled, annoyed yet allured by your sweet giggle afterwards. He yanked your jeans down to your ankles to reveal pretty pink lace panties underneath. They practically matched the color of his coat – you had to have worn those just for him. Might as well take them later.
A needy and unashamed whine tore from his lips when he saw your pussy. Even more perfect than he’d imagined all those times he fucked his fist alone in bed. He told himself this was what was necessary to crush that annoying ego of yours, knowing full well he was nearly shaking with pure carnal desire. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise and shoved your thighs apart before diving in. His tongue was ravenous, licking a sloppy stripe from your ass to your clit, mouth closing around the nub and sucking harshly. The sweetest moan he’d ever heard fell from your lips and he echoed it, eager to hear more.
Fingers tangled in his short blonde hair as you tried to steady yourself. It was too much all at once. You tried to tug him away to tell him to slow down, yet wanted to pull him even closer. Doflamingo flinched at the contact. Part of him wanted to tie your hands behind your back because how dare you touch him without permission. But instead, he groaned at the rough pull on his scalp, which went straight to his hardening cock. His grip on you tightened as he dragged you further onto his face.
His long tongue lapped messily at your folds then slipped into your cunt, shallowly thrusting the wet tip in and out. He laughed in delight at your delicious juices coating his tastebuds and making his head spin.
“You’re so fucking wet.” He panted and rubbed his nose against your clit, making you jump. A sloppy string of his saliva still connected his mouth to your entrance. “I think you like me after all.”
“I’d like anyone who eats me out this good,” you quipped.
“But no one’s as good as me, hm?” To prove his point, he shoved the entirety of his skilled tongue deep inside you. You threw your head back and whined as the wet muscle curled and twisted inside you, hungrily lapping at your sensitive inner walls. “No one will ever be as good as me. Say you’re mine and you can have this every day.”
“F-fuck, Doffy… so, mmh, good…” He ate you out like a man starved, desperately sucking at every part of your pussy he could reach. One hand moved from your hip, leaving dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises behind, and plunged into his own pants. He let out a deep groan at the contact.
“Call me Young Master.” Doflamingo breathed heavily as he pulled his pants down slightly. Your jaw dropped when he revealed his massive and fully erect dick, leaking beads of precum and bobbing against his stomach. You knew he’d be big based on his height, but this was inhuman. The blonde man noticed your hungry gaze and chuckled. “You want me so badly. Stop denying the truth and I’ll give you everything you want. I am a benevolent king, after all.”
You actually laughed at that, and he didn’t even try to be angry – being on full display for you meant he couldn’t hide the way your disobedience made his cock twitch. His other hand slithered between your legs and rubbed at your folds and the smile fell off your face.
You stumbled backwards – there was nothing behind you to lean on and your legs were quickly turning into jelly. “W-wait, Doffy, I can’t, ahh, l-let me sit…”
Two of his fingers moved downwards and bound your feet to the floor with his string. Immobilizing your bottom half like a statue but intentionally leaving your top half free to grab at his hair and body as you pleased. “Your king will grant you permission to move when I want to.”
“S’okay, I l-like seeing you look up to me for once.” Your witty reply was lost on the blonde, who had spread your folds apart and was hypnotized by your entrance clenching around nothing. You were so fucking tiny compared to him and he ached at the thought of molding your insides to take him and him alone.
Just one thick finger was enough to make you moan and pant, slowly pushing its way inside your cunt. “Shit, you’re so tight.” The soft squelches of your inner walls rang in his ears and pretty pearls of precum leaked from his dick. “Perfect fucking pussy. Give it to me.”
A second digit was soon added, scissoring you apart expertly. Unsurprisingly, the man really knew how to use his fingers. He crooked them and brushed against your most sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and hold onto him even harder. Sharp teeth playfully bit at your inner thigh in response. Doflamingo gathered some of the constant dribble of precum from the tip of his cock to lube his rough palm. He considered making you spit on his hand to ease the glide, but a better idea came to mind.
“Spit in my mouth.” He ordered, tilting his head up and sticking his tongue out. Waiting for you to follow his command like a good toy.
You were taken aback by the sudden request, but you gathered a ball of spit in your mouth like you were told… and it landed directly on the lens of his sunglasses, obscuring the vision of one eye. Doflamingo knew that it wasn’t just badly aimed. This was an act of defiance. You intentionally spit on his defining accessory, his very essence.
“You stupid slut.” The venomous insult came with a maniacally pleased grin. He pushed the stained glasses onto his forehead and you finally saw his eyes for the first time. Gorgeous and bright blue with lust-blown pupils. Looking at his beautifully depraved expression in its entirety, you briefly wondered if he really was an angel. His fingers sped up to a nearly brutal pace and he slipped in a third digit, causing you to choke on your spit. “Love me. Love me.”
A divine being who fell from heaven to beg at your feet.
“Y-you’re fucking insane,” you panted with a blissful smile, your cunt clenching down deliciously on him. “Make up your, mmh, mind.”
“Adore me.” He responded immediately. “Say you’re mine. Be mine.”
Even though you refused to respond, the blonde was lost in his fantasies yet grounded in the reality of your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure. Mouth hanging open, hands nearly going numb from how hard you held onto him. He needed to see you like this every day – no, every hour. He could keep you under his desk like a pet, ready to suck his dick whenever he allowed you to. Or maybe you’d sit in his lap all day, one of his hands fondling your tits as he attended meetings and forced his subordinates to watch him play with his favorite toy.
But that was too mundane. He could snatch up anyone in Dressrosa right now and do the same. No, the twisted fantasy that really made his cock ache was already happening. That annoyingly sexy confidence of yours was threatening his godliness.
Maybe he’d make you step on him next time.
“Call me Young Master,” he begged again, too far gone to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Tongue hanging out like a dog (and panting like one, too), he rutted into his hand even faster. His cock was absolutely throbbing, red and angry and dripping precum. He was in no position to be giving orders. You stifled a giggle with your hand, which quickly turned into a moan as his fingers bumped against your cervix.
“I already t-told you,” you sucked in a few shaky breaths. He was watching you intently and still smiling, but his fingers never slowed down. “You’re not my –mm– Master, I don’t, ahh, work for you…”
“But why not?” He whined again. “At least call me it when you cum. I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.”
You didn’t acknowledge the ridiculously empty threat, instead throwing your head back when his fingers crooked against your most sensitive spot. Slick was dribbling down your legs – Doflamingo licked it off of your thighs before slurping around his digits buried inside you. The blonde echoed your unashamedly loud moans, practically on the edge himself. He only needed one thing to send him into a rapturous white bliss.
He stared up at you unblinkingly, face frozen in a grin as he took in all the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. Sweat dribbled down your forehead, eyebrows furrowed together, body tense and breath hot. “I-I’m gonna… gonna…” He crooked his fingers inside you the way he’d done thousands of times to turn people into obedient little puppets.
“Doffy~!” Your face contorted into the most divine expression he’d ever seen, crying out his name like a desperate prayer.
You ignored his order. You used that stupid fucking nickname.
He came hard.
The tight coil that had been building in his groin for days at the mere thought of you finally snapped. An animalistic moan left his lips as thick ropes of cum coated his hand and spilled onto his abdomen. He looked even more blissed out than you, panting hard and shuddering and nearly overstimulating himself with the hand on his cock still slowly moving up and down.
Doflamingo finally removed his fingers from inside you and loudly sucked them clean of your essence. Still craning his neck upwards so he wouldn’t break eye contact with you. You could lose yourself inside that piercing gaze, so full of obsession and hunger, especially when it was coming from a position of worship rather than condescension.
Blinking out of your stupor, you realized the blonde’s cum-coated hand was in front of your mouth. If you were anyone else, he would’ve shoved his fingers all the way to your throat and made you choke on it. Instead, he stayed still and kept quiet. This was an offering.
You grabbed his wrist and kitten-licked his sticky palm twice, humming thoughtfully as if appraising the taste. His grin grew even wider. Then you pulled away and teasingly said, “You take care of the rest of it.”
Doflamingo simply giggled in delight — you’d willingly tasted the essence of a god, one that was soon to be your god, but you were still too stubborn to give in. He didn’t expect you to crumble so easily and he didn’t want you to. He was having way too much fun. The blonde smeared the rest of his cum on the crotch of the pink panties still pooled around your ankles.
“That’s disgusting.” You huffed in annoyance and rolled your eyes. “What am I supposed to wear out of here?”
The man chuckled lowly and rose to his feet, suddenly towering above you at full height. He wiped the dried spit off of his sunglasses before returning them to their rightful place on the bridge of his nose.
“Who said anything about leaving?” You paled at the sight of his devilish grin but felt your core clench in need. “You still haven’t called me by my proper title.”
#mine#doflamingo x reader#doflamingo smut#doffy x reader#doflamingo#doffy#one piece x reader#one piece smut#my fics#donquixote doflamingo
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hello!! i saw you wanted requests and I was wondering if you would be willing to write some platonic headcanons for the Hazbin Hotel crew with a reader who has chronic pain. (i totally get if you don't want to) thank you so much and I'm excited to see what you write in the future 😺
Hazbin Hotel Crew x Chronic pain having! GN! Reader
A/n: tysm for the request !! This is my first time writing something like this so I hope it’s okay :3 (if there’s anything I got wrong, please correct me)
Warnings: Mentions of chronic pain and disability (but like.. that’s pretty obvious lol)
Fluff✔️ Comfort✔️ Angst❌ Smut❌
‧₊˚✧ Alastor ✧˚₊‧
📻𖤐 After a while of Alastor observing you, as he does with most, he’d notice your body language and think the way you acted was a bit odd…
📻𖤐 Not in a bad way, he just didn’t understand at first why you sometimes visibly look like you were in pain or even just hobbling around to get somewhere
📻𖤐 it definitely raised his brow…
📻𖤐 Before actually approaching you and asking you about it, I’d like to think he made one of the egg boiz spy on you like he did in that one episode 😭😭
📻𖤐 I don’t know what he was expecting though. The only somewhat valuable piece of information he gathered from what the little talking egg had told him was that it saw you taking pain medication. Which did not narrow it down at all and not much of his curiosity had been quenched quite yet..
📻𖤐 So, one peaceful and early morning in the hotel, he decided it’d be best to just ask you about it.
📻𖤐 “My dear, are you feeling alright? You look to be quite discomforted…?” He’d ask casually as he took a sip from his coffee mug, one brow raised and his eyes fixed on yours, pretending like he hadn’t noticed this before today.
📻𖤐 After a chat, he was informed you had something called “chronic pain”. He asked a few questions, nodding when he got the answers and once he was satisfied, he walked off back to his quarters in the hotel.
📻𖤐 After all, he had so much research to do.
📻𖤐 Adding onto that last once I do feel as though Alastor would do more research on it when you decided to tell him about your condition.
📻𖤐 Mostly for his own benefit of learning something new since he hadn’t heard of this before… but it came in handy if you ever needed a bit of a helping hand.
📻𖤐 Like, if you happened to have a flare up or just a particularly bad day he’d sit with you and made sure you rested up.
📻𖤐 He wouldn’t verbally express it but he did take pity on you. How unfortunate you were in constant agony.
📻𖤐 He is a sadistic little fuck though so he’d probably find it mildly entertaining or at the very least fascinating to see what’d make you tick or was a challenge for you
📻𖤐 Although he’d try to be careful not to push you too much.
‧₊˚✧ Angel Dust ✧˚₊‧
🕸️ᥫ᭡ We all know Angel Dust doesn’t have much of a filter so it wouldn’t take him long to ask you why you could barely stand upright for too long or look like you’re genuinely struggling all the time.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ In fact, he’s more perceptive than people would like to think he is. He noticed it shortly after you two had met.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ He’d probably come off a bit strong, saying something along the lines of “toots? Ya alright over there? Ya don’t look so uhhh.. you don’t look too hot.” As he gave you a one over.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ You could tell he wasn’t trying to be insulting to you though, he was just concerned and wanted to know what was troubling you. It showed ever so slightly on the spiders face.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Once you explained to Angel your condition he felt bad. Like, huh? Whatdoya mean you sometimes have trouble even getting outta bed in the morning because of how much pain you’re in?? Sometimes you neglect your own basic needs because you’re in constant pain?
🕸️ᥫ᭡ As he tired to wrap his head around the thought, he’d ask if there’s anything he could do to help. Of course though, there wasn’t much he could do.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ From that day on, Angel would try to make things at least a little easier for you. You had earned the title of his friend, after all. Why would he let his friend suffer alone?
🕸️ᥫ᭡ He loves to cook and is pretty good at it so expect a few homemade meals on him at least a few times <3
🕸️ᥫ᭡ If you ever had a flare up you better fucking believe he’d sit there with you and just talk. He rambles like an old man lol
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Also 100% has movie nights with you with both of you guys’ favourite snacks.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Oh and of course his pig Fat Nuggets would be joining you two
🕸️ᥫ᭡ And thankfully the little guy adores you. Which gains some points with Angel
🕸️ᥫ᭡ The piggy would crawl into your lap if you were up for it. He’s pretty light and his oinks and squeals are bound to make you crack a smile
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Angel is no stranger to feeling pain, so he knows how much it sucks.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ That’s why I believe he’d be one of the best people to tell. You’re his friend and wants to make sure you’re okay as possible.
‧₊˚✧ Husker ✧˚₊‧
🍺🃁 Husker, much like Angel, would notice almost immediately that something was up with you…
🍺🃁 At first Husk couldn’t place it. He just knew that he didn’t often see you standing up straight for long periods of time and that you looked like you were constantly unwell.
🍺🃁 Was it just bad migraines? He’s never really seen you drunk before so it’s not like it could be really bad hangovers.
🍺🃁 Plus, this has been going on since you arrived here so that seemed highly unlikely.
🍺🃁 Husk was the type of guy to keep it to himself though. If it didn’t concern him, why bother saying anything about it?
🍺🃁 One day though, you sat yourself down at the bar and asked for some water. This time however, you looked worse than usual, practically doubled over as you stared down at the bar.
🍺🃁 Even though Husk usually kept his mouth shut.. he couldn’t help but ask if you had a headache or something and if you needed some migraine medication.
🍺🃁 He wasn’t heartless.
🍺🃁 When you shook your head no slowly and told him you were just having a “flare up” he asked what you meant to which you gave a brief explanation of the condition you have.
🍺🃁 Suddenly, it all made sense. That’s why you looked like you were constantly in pain. It’s because you were.
🍺🃁 He slid you the ice cold water gently and observed you for a few moments before going back to wiping the glasses as he spoke to you.
🍺🃁 “If you need something don’t be afraid to ask for it.” He’d say, his deep voice trying to be as comforting as it can while also maintaining somewhat of a nonchalant tone.
🍺🃁 Then, after that, it became routine for you to sit at the bar with him.
🍺🃁 He definitely wasn’t complaining. It was nice getting to know you and since you had a place to just sit and rest, he got to see you more often.
🍺🃁 you swiftly became good friends with him and he was pretty helpful when it came to your condition.
🍺🃁 he’d do his best to check up on you often :)
‧₊˚✧ Vaggie ✧˚₊‧
🗡️☪︎ Vaggie heard about your chronic pain from Charlie so there wouldn’t be a need to tell her about it lol
🗡️☪︎ I have a feeling she’d be a little awkward with attempting to help you out…
🗡️☪︎ Like it’s not like she can really make you feel better so it’s a bit of a struggle for her..
🗡️☪︎ But she does try her best though because she cares about you. You’re her friend.
🗡️☪︎ After a few motivational words from Charlie she’s good to go, attempting to comfort you.
🗡️☪︎ I have a feeling she’d try to help by grabbing you stuff you wanted or needed and chatting with you.
🗡️☪︎ She’s actually quite fun to converse with, she’s pretty sweet when she wants to be and can hold good conversations :))
🗡️☪︎ She’s a good listener so if you wanted to vent or just had something on your mind, she’d listen.
🗡️☪︎ During flareups, Vaggie would just stay by your side and wait it out with you, if you needed anything, she’d be on it and would be back pretty fucking quickly too 💀
🗡️☪︎ Would put a random show on if you wanted a distraction and might let you rest your head on her shoulder if you so desired
🗡️☪︎ I can’t think of much else for her other than the fact she’d try her best. Maybe mess up a few times but ultimately she means well and tries to be as understanding as she possibly can be <33
‧₊˚✧ Charlie ✧˚₊‧
⭐️☀︎ The first thing you did when you arrived at the hotel was inform the very excited daughter of Lucifer that you had chronic pains so you might have to take it a bit slow when showing you around the Hazbin Hotel..
⭐️☀︎ And of course, Charlie being who she was, was very understanding and accepting of that fact.
⭐️☀︎ She’d heard about your condition before so making accommodations for you wouldn’t be an issue
⭐️☀︎ She’s a sweetheart so quite literally your biggest supporter
⭐️☀︎ Like, oh? You need something??Ohmygodwhydidntyoutellmesoonerhereitis :33
⭐️☀︎ Much like Vaggie, she’d sit and talk with you during your flareups
⭐️☀︎ Maybe make you a tea and discuss future plans and such for the hotel to get your mind off of things. Works sometimes surprisingly enough.
⭐️☀︎ She’s nice to talk to, very comforting vibes
⭐️☀︎ But it may get a bit annoying how many times she asks if you’re sure there’s nothing she can do to make your pain go away somehow lol
⭐️☀︎ Or even just how many times she asks if you need something. “Do you need anything? No? Are you sure? Okay…. But are you really sure?”
⭐️☀︎ Might stress herself out on occasion over it tbh😭🙏
⭐️☀︎ But she only means well, you know that.
⭐️☀︎ Her cat Keekee I’m sure would love to cuddle, the cute cyclopean kitty pushing its forehead against your hand for pets (only if you’re up to it, of course.)
⭐️☀︎ Asides from Angel, Charlie would definitely be the best person to tell in the hotel because like… genuinely she just wants to help In any way she can lol
‧₊˚✧ Niffty ✧˚₊‧
🧼𐙚 Niffty is quite blunt as well, very out there and doesn’t really think before she speaks half of the time it just kinda comes out 😭
🧼𐙚 So.. she’d probably take one look at you, and ask why you’re in pain.
🧼𐙚 To which you’d explain to the little one eyed maid your condition, she’d think about it for a moment before asking a shitload of questions about it to which you answer :))
🧼𐙚 Other than that I don’t think Niffty would like… really do much?
🧼𐙚 Maybe clean for you
🧼𐙚 But there’s not much else she would do, realistically, she might forget about it and then ask again. Once you remind her she remembers tho lol
🧼𐙚 During your flareups I do believe like the others she’d sit with you for a while…
🧼𐙚 Before spotting a roach and scurrying off to go take care of the pest. Once done, she’d come back and the cycle repeats.
𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞
ᯓ★ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐲
#husk x reader#alastor x reader#angel dust x reader#vaggie x reader#charlie morningstar#charlie morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin hotel comfort
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just keep falling for
pairing: kuroo tetsurou x g!n reader
genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, boatload of an oblivious but perceptive reader, kuroo really doesn’t know how to get the obvious out and reader cannot really tell him they know what he means
notes: rewatching hq and i literally fell in love w everyone again — dedicated to all kuroo fans, not proofread at all
also i haven’t written in so long so my style is all over the place so pls critique me and also my hand slipped
reblogs and opinions are appreciated <3
kuroo was taking an awfully long time in the locker room.
standing in the gym, you watched as the first years helped with deconstructing the volleyball nets for the day. while you offered your help, they politely declined, suggesting you wait to accompany their captain out to advertise their great work.
normally, kuroo was quick. any jokes that happened inside the locker room were quick to reach your ears, and you knew how much he tried to include you in everything.
you leaned against the wall, watching the clock tick for a whole minute before opting to pace around the gym.
little did you know, kuroo was having a meltdown inside the locker room.
“kuroo!” yaku yelled, brandishing his towel. “you need to get a grip. stop freaking out. you’re supposed to be the composed one!”
“seriously kuroo,” kenma agreed, “why are you acting so surprised. it’s not like this is new news.”
“guys,” kuroo began, raking a finger through his hair, “this messes up everything.”
“is this about y/n?” lev asked, finally entering the locker room. “did kuroo finally do something about that crush?”
“enough!” kuroo sighed, sitting down at one of the benches. in the span of the last ten minutes, kuroo had one of the most dramatic realizations of his life.
he liked you.
you, his best friend and his other half. you, who cheered for him at every game and even lended him cool analogies to use in captains speeches. you, who stole his jacket and ran away from him, leaving him to chase you as far as the two of you could run.
he wasn’t sure what had changed. somehow, you’d entered his head, and with every pump of his heart, you sunk deeper and deeper into his bloodstream.
“did you seriously not know?” yaku asked gently, “because if you ask us, it was obvious from the very start. you hold them in such high regard.”
“i didn’t,” he admitted, turning to meet yaku’s eyes. “i didn’t know and now, i don’t know what to do. we’ve been friends for ages….i don’t even think they see me that way.”
“just tell them kuroo,” kenma said, not looking up from his console. “they like you a lot, they’re not going to say no.”
the team voiced their agreement, and began to file out of the locker room at last.
“sorry to keep you waiting,” he smiled, meeting your gaze as he walked out of the locker room.
“no problem,” you said, returning a grin of your own. “was there something going on in there?”
“nahhhhh,” he laughed, “someone was just having a meltdown about how to do a proper confession.”
“confession?” you rose a brow, and kuroo silently cursed himself for letting such a specific detail slip.
for a moment, you were stunned. as you walked, you considered all the possibilities.
you knew lev had been racking up quite the fanbase through his games, and you also knew how yaku was starting to branch out a bit more. if kenma had a prospective partner, you would’ve already heard of it by now.
unless…unless it was kuroo having the meltdown.
you pondered this detail as you walked out of the school doors, holding them open for your lanky best friend.
“hey dork,” you began, “who are you planning on confessing to? it was your meltdown, right?”
kuroo felt his heart drop in his chest. curse you and your quick connections.
“what makes you think the meltdown was mine?”
“because i would’ve known about everyone else,” you smiled confidently. “you would’ve told me.”
kuroo simply looked at you, distracted by your smile and the way it lit up your eyes. if only he could put it into words.
you had a way of making him nervous.
“i’d tell you details if you stopped smiling at me like that. too bright — it’s hurting my eyes.” he teased.
what he didn’t expect was for you to laugh and immediately drop your smile, transitioning to a serious face.
“tell me now,” you huffed, “i deserve to know who’s on your mind these days.”
he sighed.
if there was one thing worse than your uncanny ability to read his mind, it was the lack of that ability to tell that you were the only person he ever thought about.
kuroo got home, resting his bag on the floor of his room and immediately dialing kenma. he picked up in an instant, and kuroo couldn’t help but be thankful for his setter.
“kenma,” he sighed, “this is like one of your games. impossible.”
“let me guess. y/n didn’t catch a hint?”
“they know it’s me” he groaned, “they know i had the meltdown. they know there’s someone in my head. they keep trying to ask me who it is, but i can’t just say ‘it’s you’ can i?”
“being direct is actually a good idea.” kenma suggested, “go retry that level kuroo. maybe you’ll have some luck this time.”
with that, kenma hung up, leaving kuroo frenzied with an emotion that felt a lot like hope.
sitting and staring out the window, you wondered if now was a good time to acknowledge your growing crush on nekoma’s middle blocker.
he was everything you could ever ask for. thoughtful, sweet, laughably charming, and with a nerdy twist that made him a dork and undeniably your other half.
it didn’t help how handsome he’d become over the years either. he’d gotten taller and taller, his eyes golden and his hair endearingly messy. he was solid from all the days spent practicing, and after every embrace, you were left craving more.
as much as you didn’t want to admit your discomfort, the sensation hovered over you like a fog.
the idea of kuroo having feelings for someone else was bittersweet. you adored him — you really did, and his happiness was yours.
but….you couldn’t help but wish that you could both be happy. that he’d see you the way you’d always seen him.
someone to just keep falling for.
the next morning, kuroo came to grab you from your house for the daily walk to school. he’d made an effort to make sure his tie was on incorrectly in the hopes that you’d fix it for him.
you greeted him at the door, breaking into a grin upon seeing his disheveled state.
“come inside,” you sighed, dragging him by the hand into the foyer. he stood patiently as you reached for his tie, straightening out the edges and meticulously smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt.
“it’s almost like we’re married.” he teased, happy at the flustered expression that shot onto your features. “what? cat got your tongue?”
“shut up tetsu.”
“i don’t want to.” he said, looking into your eyes. he hoped that there was something conveyed in the silent space between you. the tenseness was all but palpable.
“oh.” you whispered, cupping his cheek. “so this is your confession? a messy tie and a lot of cheek.”
“of course,” he smirked, “you’re the only person i’d do that for.”
©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited
#nova scribbles <3#man tags I forgot about these#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo x you#kuroo x y/n#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo imagine#kuroo drabble#kuroo headcanons#kuroo tetsurō#haikyuu kuroo
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"Tell me the truth." (sfw) For Solomon, in lieu of the 1k event? Glad to see your blog grow, I hope it only continues to grow even bigger in the coming future and you continue to enjoy what you love! You have a great talent for writing and I hope you enjoy these days joyously <3
Hello, anon! Oh my gosh, thank you so much for this sweet message! I am truly enjoying myself and I'm so happy to know that others are enjoying my writing as well!
Okay, listen. This one... I kinda got carried away. I really love Solomon and I think about him a lot, but especially what it must be like to be immortal. So this one kinda ended up being about that. I made myself incredibly sad writing and editing it, though. So be prepared for that, I suppose. I think it turned out good for all that, but just be prepared for ~feelings~!
Thank you for participating!
1,000 Followers Event!
GN!MC x Solomon with prompt "Tell me the truth."
Warnings: Angst. Like I kinda think this one's sad all the way through, even though things are good between Solomon and MC.
Experience will always alter the perception of time. Life can seem to slowly crawl by, long days and longer nights, alone and empty without anything but dreams. It might also rush past, a frantic whirlwind of activity, barely a moment to breathe let alone think. It is a constant ebb and flow, the continual flux of the present and the past, a liquid temperament that causes life to shape and reshape itself like quicksilver.
Solomon had been alive for a long time before you ever made an appearance. His understanding of time was vastly different from any human with a normal life span. He couldn’t possibly remember what it was like to know his own mortality, that he had a finite number of years, that he would eventually meet his end. He couldn’t remember that feeling because it simply wasn’t true for him anymore.
He had times when things ran by, when the days careened past like a runaway train car. They were more likely to creep through his consciousness, though, especially when he was lonely, which was often.
That was why he noticed immediately how his own experience changed after you showed up. At first, it was nothing. You were always busy and he didn’t exactly spend a lot of time with you. But then he found himself more involved, starting with the danger that almost destroyed the three worlds, that almost ended your life. After that he was more aware of you, choosing to watch you from afar. The occupation of it caused time to move by just a little quicker than it used to.
And then you became his apprentice and he found himself spending even more time with you. Every moment seemed important now. He treasured every second he spent by your side, hating the way they tumbled like sand through his fingers while he was powerless to stop them or slow them down.
Solomon had plenty of time, but you didn’t.
He was aware of mortality in a way he hadn’t been since before he became immortal - aware of your mortality.
So of course he noticed when you started spending more time at Purgatory Hall than you normally did. He was hyper aware of every scrap of time he was able to spend with you. Your increased presence was more than obvious to him. It wasn’t just that you were around more, either. He saw it in the way you lingered longer, the way you suddenly chose to walk home with him, the way you asked him about spells that he knew you had already mastered, as if you needed to hear his voice even if it was just to explain something you already knew.
Solomon noticed how you called him more frequently, too. It became a nightly ritual. One day you called after dinner, saying you just felt like talking to him. And then you did it again the next day and the day after that. Solomon began to anticipate your calls. And if you couldn't call, you would text him.
Solomon clung to every word. Everything you said or wrote to him, every time he found you waiting for him, every time he saw your smile. He knew that you had obligations, loyalties to the demon brothers that he wouldn’t be able to penetrate. But even more than that he knew that you simply had a limit on time. And he cherished everything, locking away the memories of you for the inevitable future when they would be all he had left.
Night in the Devildom was dark, despite the stars and the occasional full moon. Existing in this darkness was something he had gotten used to. It was late, but Solomon had insisted on walking you back to the House of Lamentation. Once again you had spent more time at Purgatory Hall than you should have, giving excuse after excuse about why you needed to stay longer, just one more question about magic, a recipe you wanted to share with Luke, a book Satan wanted you to give Simeon. It was like you collected these little things so you could use them to your advantage when you seemed unwilling to go home.
It had been going on for quite some time and Solomon had been content to let it.
But there was something about walking with you in the dark of this Devildom night that caused his heart to stir. You likely couldn’t see much other than his silhouette and to him you were like a shadow, a living breathing shadow walking beside him, but one he couldn’t read. And there was something safe about this state of partial invisibility.
“You really didn’t want to go home tonight, did you?” Solomon asked, keeping his tone light.
You laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess not.”
“That seems to have been happening a lot lately,” Solomon said. “Is everything all right?”
Solomon felt you shift beside him in the darkness as the two of you walked slowly toward the House of Lamentation. As though you had a slight misstep.
“Everything’s fine,” you said, but the tone of your voice indicated that this was a lie.
Solomon stopped walking. After a few more steps you realized he had stopped and turned to look at him. He couldn’t see your expression in the dark.
“MC,” he said. “You can trust me. Tell me the truth.”
Solomon watched as you looked down at your hands, seemingly unable to meet his eyes even though you could barely see them. Your reluctance to speak made him realize he wanted - needed - to see you clearly.
Solomon took your hand and gently pulled you into the light of a nearby street lamp. Your face became fully visible to him and the fear in your eyes stabbed through his heart.
He took your other hand and held them both close. “It’s okay, MC,” he said. “Whatever is going on, I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help you. You’re safe with me.”
The way this made you frown hard, as though you might be fighting back your emotions, made Solomon want to pull you into his embrace, but he waited. Waited to see what you would say, if you would confide in him.
A soft wind kicked up, rustling your hair and clothes, tossing the edges of Solomon’s silver hair into his eyes. He kept his gaze on you, waiting.
Solomon had a lot of time, but you did not. He could wait forever if he had to, but you didn’t have that kind of luxury. He couldn’t begrudge you some moments of reflection, a brief amount of seconds to consider your response, but he knew you couldn’t really know how precious each one of those seconds was to him.
You moved finally, squeezing his hands before looking down at them. He watched the blush that painted your face as you quietly said, “I just want to be with you. I’m happiest when I’m by your side, so I find it hard to leave.”
Solomon felt like his chest was rupturing, filled with a force of feeling he could never hope to articulate. He closed his eyes and pulled you into his arms, unable to resist holding you. “This is what you were afraid to tell me?”
You gripped him hard, pressing your face into his shoulder. “I thought…” but you seemed unable to say what you thought.
Solomon leaned back and made you look at him. “You thought I wouldn’t want you? That I wasn’t already completely lost to you? That I don’t measure the minutes you’re with me like the precious commodity they are? MC, all I could ever want is to be with you.”
Solomon watched the tears brimming in your eyes. He reached out to brush away the one that fell down your cheek.
Solomon moved in and you met him halfway and the feeling of your lips against his was so soft and sweet he almost started crying, too.
Time would inevitably take you away from him. Solomon knew that. And yet for once he was willing to deal with that grief when it happened if it meant he could spend what precious years you had making you as happy as he possibly could. The memory of your face might fade from his mind, but the strength of your love would never fade from his heart. He could hold you there for the rest of eternity, keeping him company through long nights when he would find himself alone and missing you.
For now, Solomon would hold you and kiss you and spend every minute he possibly could in your presence. He would celebrate your life for the fleeting thing it was because despite its brevity, it had forever changed his own endless existence. And in this way, held forever in Solomon’s memory and heart, you would become immortal, too.
1,000 Followers Event | masterlist | Thank you for reading!
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me nightbringer#obey me solomon#obey me solomon x reader#obey me solomon x mc#solomon x reader#solomon x mc#omswd#misc 1k event#misc writes
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hello everyone welcome to i talk about benrey for a minute here
as someone who’s watched the entirety of hlvrai at least 6 times, the full vods at least 3, and the cast commentary hovering somewhere around 10, i consider myself to be pretty well-versed in the series. i also kin benrey. this is probably important to my perception of him.
the series is about self-aware AI. its in the title! so it seems obvious enough to me that Benrey was programmed to be the final boss. he was SUPPOSED to be a silly character that antagonizes the protag and throws off the group dynamic, and then it’s a big reveal and you get to beat up this guy that was mean to you!
but he doesnt wanna. hes self aware.
Of all the characters, i think Bubby and Tommy are the most “powerful” in that they were able to break their characters the most. Tommy is a bit of a wild card because he doesn’t usually act like an AI. I view him as the “character you’re supposed to protect” in the party, but somewhere along the way he, too, became self-aware and figured out how to handle his own. I think that’s where the age thing comes in. He was programmed to be a 5-year-old that you’re trying to get out of this dangerous facility! but he didn’t want to be a 5-year-old, he’s smarter than that, he’s capable! so he changed it. Him being the son of Gman also probably helped with him being able to just do that.
I take Bubby and Dr. Coomer as both being tutorial characters. Dr. Coomer is a bit broken, but he still does his best to teach you about things. I think he’s the tutorial NPC that goes “watch out for [x]” and “we can use ropes to cross big pits!” and “we should call them Peeper Puppies!” while Bubby was supposed to be the “here’s how you shoot a gun”
Like, Dr. Coomer does the knowledge about the world, and Bubby does the action. for the video game. And Bubby is supposed to be kinda cold to you, because the action-tutorial NPCs tend to be. Like “what you cant even hold your own? tch, guess ill have to teach you.” But Bubby doesn’t do that. He doesn’t WANT to play the game, he wants to go back home. He liked it before the game was switched on. So he doesn’t teach Gordon shit and just tries to speedrun so the player will leave and he can go back home.
one little scene that stood out to me so much was when the crew is sitting around in a circle with the pigeons. not outside, the other scene with them sitting in a circle and there’s pigeons. why are there 2 of those.
anyways, Benrey is just staring at this pigeon behind Gordon, and singing to it, calmly. And then there’s a loud beep that sounds like the vox, and definitely doesnt come from Benrey. and he suddenly gets up and shoots the pigeon. That reads SO HARD like he was being too soft with the game world, so it pushed him to do something evil randomly. Like a little villain reboot.
Almost everything he does to antagonize Gordon can be read as genuine confusion. He kills random NPCs because he knows theyre not important, and that they can’t feel anything, and that they’ll only slow the team’s progress. And what makes Gordon so mad at him is how often Benrey says Gordon shouldnt be allowed in here. I take that as a similar stance to Bubby. Benrey doesn’t want to be the villain. He doesn’t want the player to progress and make him. That gets more obvious the closer we get to the end, and most people tend to notice it in the last scenes before Xen, where he’s suggesting they go all the way back, and basically begging the player to stop here, at least for a little while.
its really sad, honestly. but i take the cast commentary bits as canon. Which makes it adorable when Benrey comes back into the movie theatre with Gordon and we get
“I wonder what will happen. I bet you know what happens!”
“I win!!!”
He did win. He got to get past being the final boss. He got to join the epilogue. I think, he probably wasn’t supposed to be able to. But these guys broke the game enough that he could. Isn’t that sweet? Isn’t that a nice ending for him? I think he deserves it.
Wayne says he acts like “he isn’t aware unless he’s being spoken to” and I think that fits really well. Like, sometimes his actions are coded into his behavior, so he does them without realizing. And then the player interacting with him (which is the premise of the self-awareness) forces him to actually look at what he did, and sometimes he has no idea how to explain it. Leading to his “huh?”
listen to me. are you listening. i need you to hear this. i need more people to understand benrey. and how much i love him. hes trapped in the narrative, doomed by it to be the villain. but he doesn’t want to be. he clearly cares about the crew in his own silly goofy way. he doesn’t want to fight them. i wrote down everything he said in the finale, and he only says 5 outright malicious lines, all of which are directly after an unnatural pause, like he’s being rebooted again. Some important lines: “I knew this was gonna happen,”
“Stop shooting at me, I have to shoot back, I don’t wanna do that,”
“I didn’t have a big plan, I was supposed to be nice, but you forced me to be BAD so I’m gonna be BAD… friend.” the small, quiet “friend” there gets me every time. even after everything, even after his nature is revealed, he wants to believe theyre still friends.
“Don’t go in there, please… I don’t like that room." The amount of times he sounds so genuinely sad when asking them to stop, or even just saying “bro..” like he’s mourning the friendship they could’ve had. The amount of times he sounds genuinely pained when he’s glitching out and stretching across the screen.
And his last words, said childishly of course, but,
“This isn’t fair.”
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svt as brooklyn 99 characters
tags: b99 au, i am obsessed, i’ve been rewatching this series for the 600th time now, only 80% accurate, i stretched it a little bit
thank you to alice (koogyv on twt) for the amazing thread that i highly interacted with as inspiration. there are many similarities. i expanded upon it more.
this is my take:
det. jake peralta
hoshi
“i wasn’t hurt that badly. the doctor said all my bleeding was internal. that’s where the blood’s supposed to be!”
arguably, this is the best pairing made. he’s silly, hard-working, creative, and most of all -- he’s gunsta think about the turtles. even as a jokes-first seriousness-second type of person, jake is a thoughtful and caring person who would put himself down to save others. he’s sharp, perceptive, and great at deduction, but often discredits himself with his great delusion, playfulness, and childish nature. he’s a trendsetter and loves to joke around, and when he has a great thought, he’s going to put it into action. (“yeah, that’s right. i’m about to monologue, son.”) his favorite movie is die hard (hoshi as a shawol), is canonically broke (hoshi’s constant money loss due to him spoiling everything), and tries to annoy suspects into confessing their crimes.
men can have duality. they can be serious and also put orange soda in their cereal. hoshi, as a Super Gemini™ knows all about it. he’s playful but knows when to be serious and takes his line of work very seriously. sure, he has some growing up to do and can immerse himself in a different role (horanghae <3) very easily, but he plays to his strengths and that of others with his determination and persistence.
capt. raymond holt
seungcheol
“wait a minute. this isn’t the championship cummerbund. this is some common cummerbund. and, you’re not cheddar. you’re just some common bitch!”
“this bitch? please. watch.” (to the dog, ‘some common bitch’) “shake… shake! psshh. idiot.”
this is probably the most obvious and predictable choice after jake=hoshi. a born leader, full of wisdom, and no-nonsense… well, some nonsense is okay. captain holt is ambitious and looks after his squad with both care for their goals and their personalities. even though he may seem a little unapproachable or stoic, he’s actually a really funny and goofy guy. he laughs when he eats marshmallows (“a marshed mallow? don’t mind if i do.”) he’s very adamant about his passions (like john phillip sousa being the skrillrex of his day) and his a very consistent guy (ref. rock painting no. 367). he is sassy to the max and will tell you things exactly as he finds them. and he does NOT mess around when it comes to his dog.
cheol, most of all, is the ultimate dog dad -- just like holt. cheddar is to holt like kkuma is to cheol. he spoils his dog, and he is proud of it. he’s someone who caters to the learning style that each person needs: stricter but with jokes for jake (hoshi), encouraging for rosa (woozi), detailed with a binder and written formalities for amy (seungkwan), and with actions (ref. the croque monsieur) for charles (dk). he’s attentive, thoughful, and silly at heart.
det. amy santiago
seungkwan
“gross, rosa! those are our dads! i mean, that’s not what i think. captain dad is just my boss. never mind, i’m teaching father the math. whatever, rosa!”
super badass, but also a teacher’s pet, know it all, and scrapbooking expert. may come off as super uptight or a buzzkill, but genuinely cares about the other detectives on the squad. when you have hella big aspirations, it’s not that unreasonable to see why competitiveness, sharpness, and intellect are his best traits. under all of the work-oriented personality, there’s someone who is ambitious, thoughtful, clever, and protective of the people he loves. it’s hard to not be so uptight and to let loose (as opposed to some totally scheduled fun!), and don’t make fun of him if he sucks and is horrible at it. (title of his sex tape.)
seungkwan was my top choice, mainly because of his competitiveness with hoshi (jake) as svt’s most famous frenemy pair. there’s a lot of responsibility and workload that seungkwan carries and continues to put on his shoulders, which his members love and appreciate (just how the squad appreciates and acknowledges amy’s dedication to being a detective). things can get wild and crazy sometimes, which is why seungkwan just needs to recharge sometimes.
det. charles boyle
dokyeom
“i got this low tag performance polo with moisture wicking technology. kept me dry all morning. and a dry boy is a smart boy.”
if you’re looking for a supportive best friend who will always cheer you on, this is him. he’s a major foodie, he loves jake (hoshi), and his arch nemesis is sergeant peanut butter, who is a horse. he’s possessive and jealous almost as much as he is a superb friend, which is obvious by the way he instantly is suspicious of every other best friend jake (hoshi) can make in his life. (“don’t make any new best friends! haha… maybe you shouldn’t go…”) he gets jealous of many, like old beat cop partner stevie schillens, brian (?) from camp, and even cannibal jail cellmate caleb. also definitely dresses up as people from halloween that no one but him can understand. he is just someone that is the embodiment of living life according to his passions. very caring, thoughtful, and funny.
dk was a good choice for boyle for me since he is super clingy and also is a supportive friend. even if he knows it’s silly or mischievous, he will play along. dk is relatively less prone to disgusting and gross sexual innuendos than charles, but is still super excited to share his jokes and hobbies. has a lot of holiday cheer and his down to be friends even after being turned down.
det. rosa diaz
woozi
“plans are plans. i’m a badass, not an anarchist.”
mysterious, a little scary, but reasonable and thoughtful. rosa is a character that’s easy to stereotype, though also arguably one of the more complex characters in this show. hard working is an understatement, and even though he may not be the most outwardly affectionate at first glance, rosa is super thoughtful. work comes first, but through the many trials and tribulations that life throws, business remains separate from personal… except the friendships. rosa went through the academy with jake (hoshi), so they’re really close. as much as jake jokes around and everything, they still trust each other and work with each other really well. (“diaz has been chuckin’ d-holes into my mouth since the academy.”) on top of that, is a bicon (bi icon).
woozi was my go-to choice on this one. his demeaner seems a little intimidating (especially because of all his muscles now too!), but he means good. he gives off mysterious vibes, but he’s just figuring it out. now he is truly no-nonsense, and he makes sure others know this. he’s still down for the different personas and everything, but he lives his life by a strict set of rules. his neighbors think he’s emily goldfinch (woozi)… his coworkers think his name is rosa diaz (wooahae)… wait. what?
sgt. terry jeffords
mingyu
“terry loves yogurt.”
literally just a big softie that looks scary/big/muscular but is actually so babygirl. he’s so caring and loves the squad to death, always making sure that they have all the resources they need to survive. even when other captains come and go, terry is always there. terry loves yogurt, terry loves love, and terry loves foreign films. kind of has a rivalry with boyle (dk) for strange reasons instigated by boyle himself, but is supportive nonetheless. (“hey, people like the way i look.” “sure they do, big guy.) he’s actually very well-educated (studied abroad in japan), is a great dad, and is always down to help others work out the right way.
this was such an obvious choice for me (with the only other option being cheol). mingyu is an inherently kindhearted person like terry, but also knows how to draw boundaries. he is someone who is worried about the safety of the people around him because he’s a family man, but also someone who loves to get down as vacation terry. also talks in the third person, but it’s okay since he’s hot.
gina linetti
myungho
“aren’t you forgetting something?” [...] “no! pay your bill! damn, who raised you?”
the human form of the 100 emoji. would be the perfect human president, based upon his skillset, dance ability, and bloodlust. he is the paris of people. has been jake (hoshi)’s childhood friend and went through high school with him. cares enough to steer jake (hoshi) on the right track (ref. brandon bliss) but to also enable him in their own goofy shenanigans (the DDC + the lacroix siblings). super smart and well-versed in the people around him because only gina would suggest savant (vernon), the hacker, to become their new IT guy. iconic entrepreneur.
i know that hao is super humble, and gina says that being humble is her best trait. despite this, there is no one else who would love to not be involved with all this police nonsense (bc gina “does not listen to a lot of things you all [the detectives] say”) but also be relevant. she’s actually very street-smart, great at comebacks, and the ceo of her own company that she literally just made up.
dr. kevin cozner
wonwoo
“that’s the oompiest oomph you’ll get.”
prim, proper, and unhinged. he loves raymond (cheol) but most of all, allows love to prevail. works as a classics professor at a university, spends a sabbatical in france to enrich his teaching experience, and loves a good croque monsieur. would absolutely go off on jake (hoshi) if he gatekept a nicolas cage movie that's a period piece set in greece based on some dumb book. despite his no-nonsense attitude sometimes, he is still down to dress like a pervert to go to the library with jake (hoshi). also, super badass because he runs over seamus murphy with a car.
i was kind of going for wonwoo’s quieter but more serious and studious vibes. i think super knowledgeable, especially about gaming and editing, while kevin is knowledgeable about classics like boetheus and the odyssey. both are super smart, sassy, and protective people.
doug judy
jeonghan
“i sold a guy a fake pekinese. twas a cat.”
he’s in and he’s out! he is there for the vibes and the elaborate schemes. he will outsmart everyone in the NYPD and get away with it. (many, many times.) one of jake (hoshi)’s best criminal friends but would still betray him every time. he would definitely lie and tell his family that he owns an architecture firm instead of being the pontiac bandit, and jake (hoshi) is his assistant mangy carl, whom he saved from a life of living on the streets selling his body. goofy and silly, but don’t underestimate him. you’ll always be one step behind him.
i think jeonghan is definitely slick and goofy enough to be doug judy. above all else, jeonghan’s mind works harder than anyone else in mafia. just like how he immerses himself in different roles (and often makes them up) in don’t lie and bad clue, doug judy has transformed into many different roles in his life (cruise ship singer, architect, etc.)
capt. jason stentley (CJ)
jun
“okay muchachos, let’s roll up on these muchachos!”
great start, and love the double use of muchachos, jun. became a captain due to his extreme luck. he is just always in the right place at the right time. showed up to his first day in grey sweatpants because he “totally biffed it” and spilled hot cocoa on himself. introduced himself as ‘captain stentley’ but didn’t like how formal that sounded. ‘captain jason’ wasn’t it either, so CJ was the move. numbers are so crazy, and overall so, very supportive. he just wants to help.
i was just thinking of someone a little silly and laidback. will be strict if you ask him to, but he’s honestly more there for the vibes. he can be a little clumsy, but i was mainly just going for the slightly airheadedness vibes and the lovable nature.
det. adrian pimento
joshua
“whoo… haha… hey chuck! it’s pimento.”
just a little bit insane. it’s a side effect of being undercover for 12 years for jimmy “the butcher” figgis, but i digress. he sometimes still calls himself paul sneed due to being extremely traumatized. overall just a funny and great character. used to be boyle (dk)’s roommate and just found himself in his son’s closet at some point in time… got mistaken as a closet monster… just normal human things. (but he was also screaming with dk and his son.) has a very riveting, intense, and sexy relationship with rosa (woozi).
this one was a little more of a stretch, but only because pimento is actually insane. all the years of ptsd has made him into a very strange person. josh is a little strange, and maybe he could be pimento if pimento was watered down into a lacroix. (like, the flavor is barely there.) there’s a distinct slight insanity that josh has (ref. gose episode the8 and the 12 shadows) that is hard to replicate.
fire marshal boone
dino
“your only move is passing the ball to jeffords and running across the field.” “i’d like to see you try!”
so done with the entire police department. will always be down for a rivalry or argument but genuinely a softie. just generally suspicious of jake (hoshi) and charles (dk) due to their antics and strong adherence to the rivalry. demands an apology because this is the fire department’s jurisdiction! all of that comes crumbling down though, when jake (hoshi) reveals his sad past with sal’s pizza…. but he still competes with jake (hoshi) on arresting the criminal in the end. some things never change.
i was honestly looking for someone who would love nothing more than to call out hoshi and dk on their BS and tomfoolery without enabling it and thought of dino. boone is a pretty lovable character for someone who is supposed to be a villain of some sorts, and it fits in pretty well with dino. plus, he’s the head of the fire department, kind of like how dino had to choose being the maknae of svt versus being the leader of a younger group. (kind of.)
! vernon
okay i was genuinely very torn about who should be vernon, because i genuinely had a lot of different options.
corey park (savant)
hacked into a police precinct’s computer system just because he could. (he only exposed everyone’s search history.) “it was like taking candy from a baby.” he was turned in by his mom, but fortunately now has a job -- courtesy of gina (hao). very intelligent and laid back
i saw vernon here because he definitely has a mischievous side. while his pranks and jokes are on the mild side, he’s definitely still a troublemaker. he’s down to work for the greater good.
cheddar the dog
“this isn’t cheddar, this is just some common bitch.” a very special someone. definitely is seungcheol and wonwoo’s child. loves wedding cake and is very well-behaved. extremely intelligent and loves participating in halloween heists. does not like being jake (hoshi)’s dog bra ://
this was based on alice’s thread and was so funny. if cheddar were a human, vernon would be cheddar. the sass and intellect can only be matched by Thee hansol vernon chwe.
other fun character pairings that i thought of:
kkuma as cheddar the dog: two words -- so spoiled. also would be cheol (captain holt)’s baby. i digress.
jun & dino as young hitchcock and scully: just two people motivated by helping the city. kind-hearted and brave people, who may or may not have gotten addicted to wing sluts while checking in on a witness that their captain screwed over by not putting in the witness protection program. outstanding people who became a lot more interesting, to say the least….
josh as madeline wuntsch: strangely tense relations with holt (cheol) due to their rivalry, but overall an outstanding cop. ½ of svt’s evil twins so you know he’s down for some evilness. oh raymond, i notice you haven’t done your time as a beat cop…. (if josh is here, who’s guarding hades???) may be a cheuksin, a korean toilet ghost who--
jun as mlepclaynos (the clay is silent): opens the door, is questioned by detectives, takes the picture of the suspect. he’s from neokrakagovia and celebrates dogs losing their virginity. jun definitely would! less because he’s weird and more so because he’s so kind and willing to go with the flow that it just happens. later says he’s not mlepnos. did you sell him horse blood? would you like to buy horse blood? he plays the violin beautifully. “guitar.” (ref. some day morning)
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The Domestic Life of Living with a Runaway Assassin. [chapter two.]
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x soulmate!reader
Summary: you hate many things in life. you hate soulmates. you hate the avengers. you hate guns. you hate loud snorers and complicated relationships.
Bucky Barnes is associated with all of those things, yet you can't find yourself hating him
w.c: 4.6k
Author note: not proud of this chapter, lightly edited and i’m simply to lazy to go over again and again
Masterlist | playlist
“Dude, I understand you’re going through a lot right now but can we tone down the grimacing a little?”
It's been one month since the field trip to the Smithsonian, it was hard to say exactly when it clicked in Bucky’s head he had a pseudo-permanent place here. Especially with the recent development of the free bedroom since your roommate moved out. His appearances before were minimal, only ever breaking into your apartment late at night when the weather was too shitty and he decided he wanted a warm meal or cereal. Bucky would usually leave before you left for work and left almost no trace of him even being there.
For the most part, you stayed at arm's length. Made it very clear that just because you two were destined to be by the universe, didn’t mean you had to act like it. Bucky looked like a kicked puppy when you explained that to him, but he kept his feelings under wraps. If he even had any.
You weren’t sure if he trusted you yet, considering his past. But you can assume ever since he finally slept on your couch rather than the hardwood floor next to it – he's started to trust you. And by trust, you mean beginning to stay at your house for more things than just 3 hours of sleep or cornflakes. If bucky wasn’t wanted by both Nazis and Captain America you'd be asking him to pay rent by now.
Bucky also had a horrible staring problem.
“I’m not grimacing,” he mumbled.
“You literally look like the grinch right now.”
His eyebrows furrowed, “who?”
“Oh my god.” you dragged out, rising from your seat and heading towards the kitchen. 6:31 pm glowed green on your stove. “Are you hungry?”
Bucky hums to himself, his metal hand grazing above the soft fur of your cat's head. “I’m always hungry.”
“Why do I even ask? Penne or rigatoni?” you shuffled through your unhealthy amount of pasta stored away.
“I don’t care.” you heard Bucky’s footsteps trail into the kitchen, you noticed pretty early on that he chose when he wanted his presence to be known. Bucky called you perceptive for figuring that out. you thought it was pretty obvious.
You already had pasta sauce leftovers from a few nights ago, good enough.
Something else you had noticed over the few weeks, being in Bucky's presence made you feel weirdly at ease. A part of you hope that it wasn’t something destined to be pulled towards each other that the universe made up, you weren’t mentally prepared to admit the universe was right. For all you know, Bucky is a pity case and you're just trying to keep him alive.
It also didn’t help the fact you had to keep reminding yourself of this all the time.
But silence followed Bucky like it was made for him, he communicated with short (and usually quite rude) sentences or just his various facial expressions. Which were mostly confused and scared. Every once in and while he’d smile, but it was barely there and half the time Bucky would have already bit it back or turned the other way so you wouldn’t notice.
Sometimes you forgot you were harboring a runaway assassin, your wanted soulmate. Like this, faint sounds of pots clinking and the smell of simple Marianna cooking. Bucky sitting a few feet behind you, bouncing his leg and petting Alpine. Speaking of…
“Hey! Alpines not allowed on the table!” You grabbed the scruff of the Snow White cat's fur and tossed him on the floor, he hissed at you the entire way. Bucky watched with judging eyes.
“You're just jealous.” Bucky mumbled under his breath, monotone as ever.
“Pardon?” You were sure if you tried it, the spoon in your hand would break upon hitting his forearm, but it was still held heavy and ready to strike. “What did you say?”
“He likes me more.”
You blinked once, twice at him. Giving him a moment to take back his words. “Watch your next words.” You grumbled and turned back to your sauce, stirring so it wouldn’t burn.
From behind you, Bucky grabbed the cat by the scruff again and set him in his lap. A smile danced on his face when the cat nuzzled into the metal palm. Until you noticed him out of the corner of your eye, mid-straining the pasta.
“Okay, maybe he does like you more.” You painfully admitted through gritted teeth, “stray to stray, I guess.”
Bucky looks up, confused.
You sighed, “he used to linger outside the apartment complex, but anytime anyone tried to pet him he’d hiss and attack. I finally womaned up because his fur was getting horribly matted and it was getting cold out. He's domesticated a little, but still pretty angry.”
Bucky listened to you intently, still gently brushing the cat's back. He only purred and leaned in closer to the super soldier. If you were going to be honest — the sight pulled at your heartstrings
After making a plate, Bucky finally put down Alpine and set him gently on the floor, more gentle than your way of doing it. You checked your email as you ate, silence enveloped the room beside the sound of silverware clinking. Your cat still lingered around the table, brushing his tail around your ankle. For a moment you let yourself wonder if Bucky would actually —
“More.”
Your head shot up. The image before you was utterly laughable. Small amounts of red sauce at the corner of his cheek, ruffled hair from his shower earlier, and both hands grasping around his silverware. And a wiped-clean plate.
“What—“ your eyes furrowed. “You, what the fuck.”
Bucky just bored his stupidly gorgeous blue eyes back at you.
“It’s only been five minutes! I gave you enough to feed two of me?” You shouted. “Are you a fucking vacuum?”
“Please.” Bucky wiped the Mariana from his lip.
You stopped, and an overdramatic smile grew on your face. “That’s the first polite thing you have said to me like. Ever.”
Bucky just rolled his eyes and nudged his plate toward you.
“Go make your own plate. I obviously have no grasp of how much you can inhale.” You snarled, Bucky grabbed the plate and got up. He towered over you, Bucky made himself look as small as he could most of the time that you’d forget how big he actually is. Your eyes shamefully followed his body as he walked towards the stove.
“Oh, and actually chew this time, sergeant.”
You began eating again, making a mental note to up the amount you buy at the store next time
-
Bucky’s heavy boots trudged through the house. He had learned soon enough you were a heavy sleeper and no matter how much he tried to avoid the creaky wooden panels, it just wasn't worth it. The familiar bright light on the living room television flashed, the light creeping its way into the hallway. You were sat in the corner of the couch, curled up so tight, like you were trying to make yourself disappear. Bucky made himself known but your head didn’t snap in his direction like usual.
He coughed, “why are you still up?”
No response, your eyes stayed trained on the television. Bucky craned his next to see another one of your reality shows. If Bucky remembered correctly, this was the one where a group of people try to survive on an island.
A sigh escaped Bucky's lips as he sat down his duffle bag with a thud, “are you okay?” he asks, sitting down on the couch, keeping a good foot and a half distance from you.
“No.” is all you mutter out.
“Do you wanna talk?”
You don't respond again.
“Well, I’m heading out. Thanks for the bed and food.” Bucky says. Awkwardness poured out between you two, bucky felt out of place right now.
You let out an exhausted sigh, “it's snowing.”
Bucky hummed in response, his eyes glancing toward the window. Pitch black dark beside the New York street lamps giving the world a yellow-orangish glow. Bucky noticed the snowflakes falling gently onto the fire escape railing. “Yeah, I know.”
“Gosh,” you groaned. “I feel guilty knowing you’re out there freezing your ass off and scavenging for food, just out there hiding in general.”
“It's not that big of a d-”
You interject, and your voice sounds exhausted. “Stay. please, Bucky. Just stay.” your gaze leaves the television and meets his, and suddenly Bucky’s stomach feels funny.
“If I stay too long, I’m scared someone will connect us and I don't want you to be dragged into my mess.” Bucky sighs.
Bucky had already stayed here for a few too many nights, you had offered him the empty room across from your own. It took some convincing from you, but he stayed. Bucky didn’t sleep, didn’t even touch the bed, he had rustled it up to make it look like he slept.
Maybe he was just scared of getting too attached.
You hum. “I’m sure I’m a lot safer with the world's most feared assassin in my house, rather than out prancing around the city.”
“I don't prance.” Bucky scoffs, and he notices the way your lip quirks up slightly as you turn back toward your show.
A silence falls upon the two of you, Bucky's shoulders feel lighter at this moment, like your presence just takes the burden of the world off him. Bucky’s also scared that might mean you're taking some of it on your shoulders too.
His eye flicker back to the large television, fully illuminating the living room and casting a shadow over your feature. Mabe Bucky needed to stop his habit of staring at you, when will you notice that he does it because it feels impossible to tear his eyes away from you? That it’s not just some lasting effect from the 70 years of torture. Snap out of it, Barnes. Bucky hears the small voice in his head yell, he looked back at the tv. Survivor is playing again, you only watch this when you’re upset.
“Why do you even watch this show?” Bucky asked.
You snicker silently, Bucky can’t hold back the amused smile on his face. “It's horrible, really.” god, he can hear the smile on your face.
“Tell me.” Bucky breathes out.
“Besides, it is just entertaining–” you say, laughing. “watching these people suffer through all this makes me feel better about myself, like what I’m going through isn't that bad– wow, I’m horrible.”
Honestly, the response took Bucky off guard. He finds it hard to grasp a response.
“You are an interesting person.” Bucky laughs. Settling on that.
“Good, or bad?”
“Good.” Bucky says firmly. You nod your head. “I mean you are housing a criminal of the state.”
You laugh, a genuine laugh. “As long as you keep me safe. Mi casa es su casa.”
Bucky might have scooted his way closer to your side of the couch, closer to you. “Yeah, I’ll keep you safe.” he smiles to himself, because at least he can do that. His arm falls to the back of the couch and above your head, you'd be disappointed to know Bucky wasn't really paying attention to the show.
Your eyes began to droop, leaning into Bucky's touch. He was warm. Bucky tensed when your head fell onto his chest, but after it was the easiest thing to melt into you. Like it was second nature, puzzle pieces finding each other. Bucky doesn't remember the last time he was touched like this, a time when being touched wasn't bad and painful. Even if he remembers a time before that, with girls or Steve, Bucky sure doesn't remember it feeling this good.
Bucky wonders if you could hear his heartbeat too. Feel how fast it beats for you, would you get scared and push him away? Bucky decided he would rather stay quiet than find out.
“I bet you could survive this show so easily.” you sound delirious, barely awake as you fall heavier into his chest. Bucky hums and you feel it, it's quite nice.
“Probably, how much is this prize money?” he asks, knowing too well you are too tired to answer that.
You snort, “thinking about joining? That'll blow your cover, sergeant.”
It was so weird when you called him that. It felt so right and it made Bucky feel normal. He wished you'd call him that more, Bucky always feels a nostalgic and warm feeling swell in his chest that makes him feel normal. Like everything he's faced all those years simply disappeared and he's been in this house with you all alone. Maybe that's how it was meant to be.
“It would be one hell of a reveal though.” he mutters, but you don't respond.
Bucky’s eyes fall down to your face, your limp against his chest and eyes closed, mouth parted slightly, and breathing softly. It would be impossible to bite back the smile that grew on his face, you look so peaceful. Bucky knows you deserve it. And he knows he’ll stay awake all night to make sure you can keep it.
And he… almost did that. Bucky made it a few more hours of keeping watch on your sleeping form, you moved your way fulling into his lap and Bucky wrapped a heavy blanket over you to shield you from the cold New York weather. Bucky got himself used to the tv remote, very high tech – too high tech.
Confusing remote yet still no flying cars, what a disappointment the future was. Bucky watched a show called Modern Family for a while, it didn't take long for his eyes to get heavy as well.
And then it was morning, and the sun was showing through your curtains and it warmed his exposed skin. You were gone and a fleeting feeling of panic shot through him. But then the sound of banging and many familiar curse words that belonged to his one and only.
Bucky blinked the tiredness out of him, running his hand through his outgrown hair, and craning his neck to see into the kitchen. The large blue blanket he had draped over you last night hung from your shoulder, you were hitting and glaring at your coffee pot like it had personally offended you. Which it literally has.
“You stupid fucking machine, I paid 130$ for you, motherfucker. Work, I swear to god I will–”
“Stop yelling at the machine.”
You turned to him with the devil in your eyes. “Says the one who was whisper-yelling at the remote to ‘go back’ last night.”
“You heard that?” Bucky asks shyly. You just hummed and nodded, giving up on banging on the Keurig and plopping down next to him. “No coffee? Are you going to turn into a monster if you don't get caffeine in the next hour?”
With a deadpan face and droopy eyes, “yes.”
Then, like a fucking lightning bolt withdrawing from caffeine. You shot up abruptly and rushed into your room with heavy footsteps, followed by the loud sound of your hangers clicking together. “Grab your cap and glove that you’re so convinced makes you look invisible. We’re going to get coffee.”
Bucky didn’t really feel like arguing with a monster right now, so he lazily stretched his limbs and shook out the lingering sleepiness from his body. Going to his designated corner and grabbing his many layers and hat.
Bucky still kept his head down like usual, you weren't very good at doing that. Even after Bucky’s constant worrying. He assumed you took his word the night before a little too seriously. Yet, you guided him to the farthest corner of the shop, “what do you want?”
“Coffee.” Bucky stated plainly.
“What kind of coffee?”
Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed, “there are different types of coffee?”
You inhaled an annoyed breath, nodding to yourself. “Nevermind, I got it.” you sighed, trudging off to the counter and greeting the woman with a bright smile. Ordering your usual and getting Bucky a tall, plain black. Decaf because you weren't dealing with a jittery supersoldier. the barista asked for a name, and your and Bucky’s almost left your lips as before you realized who he was. Glancing back over to Bucky, his hair had grown out long and so had his beard.
You were beyond amused with yourself when you gave him a new name and walked back to your seat.
Bucky had the same aura as a small child. Except with broad shoulders, a permanent grimace and a few knives shoved up his pants. His gloved fingers tapped on the table, eyes hitting every inch of the building. Tap, tap, tap. What made it worse was the excessive bouncing of his knee that vibrated the already old, wobbly wooden table. You glared holes in his head, frowning but he gave you no mind.
Grasping around a peoples magazine, and simply throwing it at him. “Read that, the tapping and bouncing are getting annoying.” Bucky looked down at it, a little disappointed at first. But soon started flipping through it, the tapping stopped. Thank god.
For a moment, you leaned your head back, closing your eyes and just letting a heavy breath out. That you were somewhere else, anywhere doing anything. Just for a moment. But the sound of people speaking, the loud and arguably annoying city life of cars and horns, the sounds of espresso machines and mugs clinking. No escaping this. Your eyelids flutter open, back to reality, and Bucky is looking at the magazine as if it called his mother a bitch. Eyebrows furrowed and dark, narrowed eyes.
“What is it?” you scoot over to his side of the booth, lining your thighs with his. Bucky tenses at the touch, you don't notice. In the magazine is a picture of Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Clint Barton at a charity event. Next to the pictures were long articles of their bullshit excuses for whatever damage they caused to some city miles away, or even home.
“I don’t recognize him.” Bucky mutters under his breath, he sounds so sad.
“It's probably all the photoshop.” you say, in an attempt to make him laugh. But as the words left your lips you realize Bucky probably has zero idea what photoshop is, and seals that thought after he shot a confused look up at you. “Doesn’t matter, I promise it will come back to you.”
Bucky looks up at you, an unrecognizable emotion playing out on his face, lips parted slightly as if he was about to speak. Too scared to let anything out he doesn't fully recognize, you're confusing and warm and gentle with him and it makes his brain short circuit. Just your thighs and shoulder touching him makes his body burn, and the feeling of you so close taunts him, is Bucky that touched starved? All he knows his violence at the end of anothers hand, is it so bad to want more –
“L’Oreal! Y/N!” The loud and shrill voice of the barista echoed through the cafe, and a wild amused smile grew on your face as you shot up to get the coffee.
Your warmth left Bucky’s body, cold now.
-
Chop, chop, chop…
Bucky stood hunched over your counter, a small fruit knife with little lemons painted on the blade. Bucky thought it was beyond weird but it worked. Chopping away at strawberries, for you, because he doesn't really understand how to show gratitude towards you any other way. The super soldier wasn't very good with words, and he has no money to pay you for the warm food and roof over his head. Strawberries will due.
Chop, chop, chop
Alpine sat on the counter next to the cutting board, he definitely wasn’t supposed to. But you were in the shower and well, you didn't have to know. Bucky scratched the place between his ears, the metal again the soft, snow-white fur was weird.
Chop, chop, chop
Then, Bucky's worst fear came true (other than living in New Jersey). A loud, shrill, and blood-curdling scream from you. Bucky almost sliced his own hand when he flinched, shooting up to go to you. HYDRA? SHIELD? CIA? Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was careful, no one should know. Bucky rounded a corner, almost taking the trim out with his shoulder. His metal hand grasped around the handle of your door, not taking any time to knock before throwing it open and off the hinges. Expecting to see blood, men in tac suits, guns… not you wrapped in a towel, dripping water as you stood on the toilet seat.
“Bucky…” you whispered, eyes wide with fear, gaze not leaving the shower. Until they set on him, when you jumped down (bucky finches– scared you'd slip) and scurried behind his back. Balling his shirt in your fist as you hid behind him, dampening the white fabric. “It's still in there.”
Bucky sighed, just glad to see you weren't dead. “What? What is?”
You just let out a high-pitched and arguably pathetic whine, pointing at the tub, eyebrows knitted together tight. Bucky tried to pay no mind to the fact you were pretty much naked, hair stuck to your neck and face. Slowly, craning his neck to see a small, stink bug crawling at the bottom.
“Really? A stink bug?” Bucky asked.
“Get it!”
Bucky leaned down and grabbed the bug between his metal thumb and index, crushing it. Flipping up the toilet seat and flushing away the stinky bug, taking a piece of paper and wiping the excess dead bug off his finger. A righteous death, as much as it can be.
Turning around, Bucky fought back a blush. The curve of your neck, and collarbone. Your exposed thighs taunt him. He needs to snap the fuck out of it, if anything you two are just roommates. No amount of universe bullshit would change your mind. But oh, oh god. You turned slightly and he caught a glimpse of the words written on your body, his words. Bucky almost fainted.
“Thank you. You have been crowned official bug killer.” you teased, still just standing there.
His ears tinted pink and probably stuttered, “uh-huh, go- go get dressed.”
“Sir, yes sir.” You made a stupid military salute, turning back to the door. “Also, you’re fixing that.”
Bucky fidgeted with his hand, trying to avoid his eye from your chest. “Yeah, yeah, I will. Don’t worry.”
You smiled big, took a few steps towards Bucky, and pecked his cheek. It happened so fast, Bucky didn't process it until you had scurried away and into your room, the door shutting behind you. Bucky's hand ghosted the spot where your lips lay, utterly stunned.
Bucky needed to sit down.
-
Your steps echoed through the apartment hallway, with the feeling of hundreds of pounds on your shoulders. Your legs were wobbly and weak after a long 10-hour shift. You'd been nursing a headache for the past few hours and despite working in a hospital, you hadn't had time to get some ibuprofen. The key to your apartment jangle in the lock and you let out a sigh as the door opens. Alpine takes no time to greet you at the door, the apartment is dark and quiet and if it wasn't for the boots by the door and empty mugs or coffee on the kitchen table, you'd say it was empty.
Alpine jumps onto the table in front of you, you swat him away quickly and scratch at her head. “Is Bucky home? Hm, where is he?” you coo at the cat. Your eyebrows knot as he jumps off the counter and trots away from the kitchen and towards your bedroom.
The door to your bedroom that's usually closed is now cracked open and Alpine nudges his way into the room, cracking the door open more. On the opposite side of the bed, in the far corner is a pile of blankets and a pillow. The comforter raised up and down quickly, faintly you could hear the sound of Bucky's grunts and gasps.
Slowly, not to startle the seemingly always ready-to-fight assassin, you walk towards him and pull at the comforter. “Bucky?”
Bucky’s chest heaved up and down, sweat dripped down his face and made his hair stick to his face and neck. His eyes slowly look up at you and all you could see was panic and terror in his eyes, his lips stained red with blood and bruises.
Crouching down to him and reaching out, hoping he’ll let you.
“Hey,” you whisper quietly, gently so as not to startle him. Bucky’s eyes avoid yours and he's still gasping for breath like he's being choked and suffocated.
You crane your neck to meet his eyes, tears brim but they don’t fall and you bring your hand up to his face slowly. Giving time for him to swat your hand away before you caress his cheek with your thumb. “Breathe, buck. Please.”
He opens his mouth to speak, a whined croak comes out. “I can’t, — breathe. I’m so-” he chokes out a mess of words.
“Hey, hey, no. it's okay.” you shush him and he brings his palm up to your shoulder and forearm. “What do you need? Show me?”
Bucky looks at you for a faltering moment and the sheer emotions on his face stun you, he looks so broken and vulnerable in front of you. He hesitates for a moment, but you notice the way he's looking at you and the subtle tug on your arm.
You fall into his arms, pushing the pillow barricade he's made around himself. A sigh escapes his lips at your warmth and you've realized your headache has seemed to fade and a sense of comfort is found in Bucky's arms.
A few minutes pass of your head laid comfortably on Bucky's shoulder, both your arms tangled around his. Bucky's chest slowed to a normal, slow pace and he was breathing normally. Bucky groans as you pull away from his chest. His grasp is still tight around you but you're just far enough away to see his face.
You notice the dried blood and splits on his lips, you scoff and bring a thumb up to wipe away the blood. “And you always lecture me about biting my lip,” you said, almost teasing.
“M’ sorry.” he blinks. “I didn't realize I was even doing that, I just got so overwhelmed and everything just happened.”
You hum, as you brush his hair back and behind his ears, his skin is still damp and sticky. “It's okay,” you speak, rubbing at his arm. You look down and take notice of the blankets around you once again. “Is this what you do?”
Bucky's head perks up towards you, “what?”
“Make pillow forts when you get overwhelmed.”
Bucky looks down, but you notice his smile lines grow slightly and see the way his lip quirks up. “It's so childish, I know.”
You shake your head, a similar smile creeping up on you as well. Bucky continues, “As a kid, Steve and I, we used to build forts out of anything we could find when Steve used to sleep over. It's a comforting feeling, helps me calm down.”
You nod and bring your hand to meet his, feeling the rough skin under yours as your hand moves against his. You tug slightly as you slowly bring yourself to your feet, Bucky wishes to pull you back into him and never let go.
“Come on, now,” you say. “You’re all gross and sweaty, I gotta wash my blankets now and you have to take a shower.”
Bucky’s face softened and he realizes, despite the current circumstances, he’d be okay with feeling like this forever. As long as you were there.
tag list; @i-l-y-3000 @ivywasmaroon @waywardcrow @alana4610 @ozwriterchick @slytherinambitious @wintermischief @tarotwitchy-main @silelda @zizzlekwum @iv3t
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky x reader#marvel#marvel fanfiction#bucky fic#sebastian stan#bucky x female reader#bucky fluff#sebastian stan x reader
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You'll change your name and change your mind (but you can't leave this fucked up place behind)
(Prompt #18: REVENGE | Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes) )
Notes: Okay, this one was very fun to write to be honest. I asked to myself how I could manage to do "unreliable narrator" and boom, the answer was in front of me! It's Sanzu, I just needed to let him unleash and not try to guide him towards any type of plot or coherency and he'd do the rest on his own. AND HE DID! Same for loss of identity, so easy to lose himself for Mikey, he has no self-respect whatosever, it's fascinating (Such a good gremlin, fr)
So, keep in mind this is very unreliable and very biased and not even Sanzu knows wtf he feels or thinks. He changes his delulu to keep adapting to shit happening around him, don't expect any type of coherency towards himself.
Also: I love Draken, any opinion reflected here is not mine, it's all on the lil pink hater <3
(Settled in Bonten timeline but during Kanto Manji times, you'll see why at the end, hehehehehe)
Warnings: Delusions and very distorted perception of reality, tones of cursing bc Sanzu is a hater, angst. Manga spoilers.
Sanzu acted very smug for days after seeing how Draken looked at him — a puzzled expression with a hint of annoyance, the obvious question written on his idiotic face. Confusion didn’t help that loser to look less ugly, but for once, Sanzu was delighted to see him.
Things got even better when he actually got to hear him venting to Mitsuya — okay, he might have been spying on them, but no way in hell he wouldn’t keep an eye on those fuckers!
Revenge never tasted sweeter, Sanzu was finally back where he belonged. By Mikey’s side, as his right hand and best friend — as it should always have been. That bastard thought he was special to Mikey? Ha, Draken could have been entertaining somehow, but once the novelty was over, once that leech showed his true colors, his king got tired of that moral bullshit.
Yeah, that was it. Those shitheads of Toman never understood his king’s true potential, they held him back like dead weight. Sanzu was the only one alive who truly knew Mikey, who saw him for who he was, not for who others wanted to make of him. No, Sanzu didn’t see him as a puppet or a means to achieve his goals. Or as someone so righteous that would magically conquer the top of delinquency without staining his hands with blood.
Because for Sanzu, Mikey himself was the goal — being able to stand by his side, to protect him, to serve him devotedly. Unlike those goodies of Toman, he was very aware Mikey wasn’t a saint either, his king had a talent for violence that no one should limit. And who cared if it was wrong or illegal? They wanted to be criminals, for fucks sake! He was a killer too and he didn’t regret it, he would kill for Mikey again as many times as needed. Nothing came without a price, Sanzu learned that years ago.
So, of course, he was more than happy now that those pests were finally out of Mikey’s life for good. Sanzu could have answered their questions if he had wanted to, but it was a lot funnier this way — he was Mikey’s first friend, he had always been there but they were too busy to notice him, and obviously Mikey tried to push him away too but, unlike them, Haruchiyo never left.
That was the big mystery those retards couldn’t comprehend, the magical trick Sanzu performed to be able to remain by Mikey’s side when he tried to isolate himself from everyone. He simply stayed, no matter what, he refused to abandon him. It shouldn’t have been so hard to deduce it, the same way it was obvious that his king was trying to carry some kind of burden all alone.
His perfect revenge was cut short with the new information that Draken had joined Brahman from the shadows — a secret his ass, as Sanzu wouldn’t know what was happening inside his little sister Senju’s gang.
It was difficult to choose what angered him more, the fact that the bastard dared to join their gang — trying to erase him again, but this time amongst his own siblings — or how he betrayed Mikey so blatantly. First, he walked away so easily and now joined the enemy?
Apparently, abandoning Mikey once wasn’t enough for the paltry dragon. No, he had the nerve to do it twice. Sanzu knew how much that could hurt his king, so kept the information to himself and resisted the urge to punish the traitor — Mikey had given him a very clear order and no matter how much he hated it, he would obey him.
Any trace of satisfaction his revenge had made him feel, got completely erased the last time Sanzu interacted with Draken — that day, not even the knowledge that fucker would disappear from their lives forever was enough to bring him even the slightest relief. Fucking daring to appear at Senju’s funeral with that contrite face, like he had ever cared about her? Sanzu couldn’t even grieve his sister in peace without being haunted by him?
“Get the fuck away from here.” Sanzu spat his words with rage, looking at him with red eyes filled with hatred. A part of him was eager, almost begging to have an excuse, to be able to make someone — anyone — pay, to vent his pain with violence.
But no, Draken stayed silent, too ‘decent’ to actually take the bait in a place like this — that didn’t mean Sanzu couldn’t hurt him anyway. His next words were filled with venom, punctuating each syllable with hate.
“Isn’t that your signature move, anyway? Disappearing after someone else’s little sister died.”
BOOOOOOM! (yes, this was so damn fun)
Remember when I said he was unreliable? Well, to clarify his biggest lies: He doesn't regret killing for Mikey? My ass considering we're talking about Mucho here -.- (maybe regret is not the word, but that nonchalant attitude is bullshit to delulu himself and we all know it). Also, as you dear reader might have notice, he has very conflicted feelings towards his not-sibling-but-yes-his-siblings-all-at- once.
#whumptober2024#no.18#revenge#unreliable narrator#loss of identity#'i see what's mine and take it'#tokyo revengers#fanfic#angst#delusions and very distorted perception of reality#implied unhealthy relationships#isolation#me writing🌻#sanzu haruchiyo#sanzu haruchiyo angst#sanzu has no self-respect#the simp is simping and very delulu#he can't figure out if he has siblings or not#the magic trick to stay by someones side is...staying!(even if they beat you up or scar you for life you just need to stay duh)
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TOP 10 MOST SIGNIFICANT MOMENTS IN HADES' LIFE:
choose ten moments within your muses' life - moments that have impacted them the most - and explain why. moments can be good, bad, or both. tagging: @ichoric / @aetheryic, @singofus @kallistcs @brokenbow @seekesotsibteadmist @triickst @intothewildsea @madefate @championsofthegate @asoulunbound @heartheaded and you!
10. first spring without persephone. this was when it truly sunk in just how much he had messed things up. it was a period of immense reflection, and guilt, and introspection. hades thought he knew what it was to be lonely before, but this was so much worse. he realized how bad he fucked up, basically, and it impacted his future treatment of persephone significantly.
9. being swallowed. being consumed by your own father and spending your formative years in darkness and bile is pretty shitty, and its left him with some pretty serious issues, fears, and opinions on fatherhood. however, the reason this is so high up on the list is simply because of the distance between hades and this event. it was difficult, but compared to a lot of things that have come after, its… child’s play.
8. early relationships. some of the first relationships hades ever had (pre-persephone, of course) were pretty significant, and shaped his entire view of love and romance. though there’s no proof, obviously, i’ve always headcanoned a lot of “non-canon” relationships during the titanomachy. and one of those is the relationship i’ve imagined hades had with zelos during the war, which started out fairly innocent but turned out to be exploitative and unhealthy. hades was in a very vulnerable space and zelos, intentionally or not, took advantage of him, which really did not help hades’ already fragile sense of self. then there was demeter, who in my headcanon was a very positive relationship for him, one that helped to heal his perception of love, sex, and himself a little bit. after the war was leuce, who despite holding hades’ attention and affection, was not meant to be. i don’t think hades was at all ready for a relationship and therefore leuce did not work out.
7. inheriting the underworld. i don’t think hades was upset about this assignment, because he had always preferred the dark and quickly realized just how much he disliked the politics of olympus. but he wasn’t particularly thrilled either, and venturing into a massive realm, an unruly realm, and trying to make order of it was exciting, but also difficult and isolating. and it is what solidified him as this deity to be feared, not loved.
6. titans 2 (or 3?): so this existed purely in the world of roleplay w/ @ ichoric but it has been no less significant on my hades. he watched his family die, felt their souls ripped away from the world of the living. he was forced into exile, spent weeks tracking down his missing children, running himself ragged. for the first time since his youth, he was in full blown war again, which dredged up a lot of old horrors. the only good that came from this was the rekindling of old relationships, wounds being closed -- particularly with his siblings, nieces, and nephews.
5. getting sober. i think this is one that takes time for hades to come to grips with and fully recognize its impact. he knew how his drinking affected him and his family, and it’s part of his motivation for actually getting sober, but it’s not until he’s sober for a while that he realizes how much better they’re all doing and how much more enjoyable his life is, and generally how much healthier he is. despite the pain he was trying to cover up, he feels happier more often. food tastes better, he sleeps better, sex is better, everything is just so much better and he never believed it could be, but here it is and he’s so grateful for it.
4. the titanomachy. fairly obvious, here, but no less significant. he emerged from the darkness and was thrown into a ten year long war, with no skills, no safety. it was long and brutal and took so much adaptation that it left him with a lot of issues. he was physically injured, abused, manipulated, and left in fear during this time - but he also got to meet his family, make friends, and transition too. so it was a very significant period of time, in good and bad ways.
3. the birth of his children. its kind of hard to rank any one of them higher than the other, so i’m meshing them together. its also hard to compare these to the one below, so imagine that these two are sort of all meshed together. but he adored his children. he never thought he would get to be a father, but then there his children were. he cherished them. he loved being a father. he still does, i should add. but in that moment, he was content. every time one of them was born, he felt more complete. and then disaster struck :)
2. marrying persephone. aside from the chaos this also created and the sheer impact it had on the world around them, marrying persephone is also the source of almost all things good in his life. he adores his wife, grew with his wife, had beautiful children with her. the only reason i put this above the last one is because he couldn’t have the kids without her, so… i guess this wins out.
1. the death of zagreus. this completely threw his entire world into chaos, broke his spirit and tore apart his family, and hades was never the same again after this happened. everything up to this point has been quite impactful, but nothing so much as this. i’ve talked a lot about how zagreus’ death affected him, so i won’t elaborate too much, but there is no denying how much this changed his life and perspective.
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Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 13: Santa Claus is Coming to Town
Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)
Rating: G
Word Count: 2807
Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32
Today’s story was originally written as part of my Fluffy Friday’s collection. It was written just after 5a aired, and is now more of a post 5b canon divergence. Disappointed that no one seems to be in the Christmas spirit, Henry inadvertently casts a curse that will either spread Christmas cheer…or drive everyone nuts.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
CS genre: future fic (post 5b)
The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.
~Buddy the Elf~
Emma woke abruptly, hand going immediately to her racing heart. It had been six months since their return from the Underworld, but she still had the dream with frightening regularity: She had to watch Killian die again, sacrificing himself for all of them. They made it to the Underworld, but just as they were about to reach Killian, he slipped from her grasp, falling farther and farther away from her until he was lost to her for good.
She swiveled her head to the side and then sighed in relief. He lay there beside her, sleeping peacefully, the ghost of a smile on his lips. She still felt the tears gather at the thought that the reality had been far from her nightmare. She had found Killian; she’d brought him home. They’d married as soon as it could be arranged; neither wanting to wait another second to make the vows that would join them together as one forever.
Emma smoothed the unruly hair away from her husband’s face, and then bent down to kiss him, needing to reassure herself that he was alive and well and here with her. She’d meant it to be just a quick kiss, a peck, but the moment her lips met his, the familiar fire that was ever-present between them fanned into flame.
He groaned deep in his chest and breathed her name, hand coming to tangle in her hair, mouth slanting to meet hers, to deepen the kiss, before he was even fully awake. The kiss went on for long moments, becoming more all-consuming with each passing moment, but finally Killian pulled away, breathing heavily.
“That was quite the pleasant way to wake, my love,” he said, his voice still gravely from sleep. “To what do I owe this show of affection?”
She stroked his face, smiling down at him, not wanting to mar the moment with talk of her dream. She shrugged. “Merry Christmas, Killian.”
He gave her a searching look, his brow furrowing in obvious concern. “It was the dream again, wasn’t it, Swan?”
She flopped back onto her side of the bed with a sigh. The man was too perceptive for his own good. “Yeah. Six months back home and safe and everything, and I still have the dream. I just, I don’t know, I needed to reassure myself that you’re here and safe and all of that.”
He raised up on one elbow, looking down at her, running his fingers through her messy curls. After a moment he turned from concerned husband to dashing rapscallion. “I assure you I am, Emma. If you, however, need to be convinced, I’ve more than a few thoughts on how to put your mind at ease.”
Emma felt the desire coil deep within at the heated look in his eyes and she smiled up at him before bringing his mouth back to hers. “Yeah, I think I could use a little convincing, pirate.”
This kiss was all heat and white hot passion from the start. Emma felt Killian’s hand move to the buttons on her pajama top, and things were about to get really interesting, when suddenly their bedroom door slammed open.
“We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, and a happy New Year,” came Leroy’s loud voice. A moment later, the man himself—along with his usual grumpy scowl—came into view.
“What the hell?” Killian growled as he rolled off of Emma and shot the dwarf a look that could kill.
Emma hastily re-buttoned her pajama top and then sat up, looking at the people pouring into her bedroom—the dwarfs, Regina and Robin, Granny and Ruby, her parents, Henry—the latter three looking extremely uncomfortable at the scene they’d burst in upon. “You guys ever think about, I don’t know, knocking before you barge into a person’s house? And their bedroom?”
“No time, sister,” Grumpy said with a scowl. “Seems like we’ve been cursed again and we’re gonna need the savior.”
~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~
“Wait,” Emma said, holding up a hand and looking at her family and friends now surrounding her booth at Granny’s. “You’re telling me that Santa, Santa Claus is real too? And that he cursed us? How does this even happen?”
Ruby walked past singing “Santa baby”, while in the far corner Archie and Marco began a rousing chorus of “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the year.” Henry joined Emma and Killian in their booth.
“Yeah…” he said, glancing aside. “I, um…I think this is my fault. I kind of wrote a letter to Santa and, well, this happened.”
“You…you wrote a letter to Santa asking him to curse us so that we all break out into Christmas songs every few moments?” Emma asked, rolling her eyes as the rest of the dwarfs surrounded Leroy and started singing “You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch.”
“Kid, this’s got to be the most annoying curse ever.”
“You’re telling me,” Granny groused, stopping by their booth on the way to serve a couple in the back who’d just begun serenading each other with Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, and looking very displeased about it. “If I have to hear Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer one more time, the blue-plate special might start coming with a side of poison.”
“Oh please,” Regina said with an eye roll worthy of a queen, “you think that’s bad? Roland’s been singing The Twelve Days of Christmas more or less non-stop for the past twenty-four hours. I’m about to go all Evil Queen on everyone.”
“Well, lad,” Killian said, fixing Henry with a stern, fatherly look, “your mother asked you a question. What have you to say for yourself? Why did you go to this ‘Santa’ fellow and request a curse?”
Henry sighed deeply. “I didn’t request a curse,” he said. “I just. I don’t know, I wanted everyone to get a little Christmas spirit, you know, after you all decided to skip Christmas and everything. I didn’t want Santa to curse you! I just thought we needed all the peace and love and joy and family and all that holiday stuff we could get after what we’ve been through. I asked Santa to help me think of a way to make everyone see that we need Christmas more than ever this year.”
“The holly and the ivy, when they are both full grown, of all the trees that are in the wood, the holly bears the crown,” Ashley and Thomas sang—in perfect harmony—as they stopped by the table. “Emma! You’ve got to help us stop this!”
“Alright everybody,” Emma said, bringing her hands to her temples. “Just…let me think for a minute.”
It was true what Henry said; they had made a town-wide decision to skip Christmas this year. It had been decided that after everything everyone had been through lately—between Zelena and the Queens of Darkness and then both Killian and her becoming Dark Ones and then Rumple’s renewed betrayal, and then going through hell to bring Killian back—that they deserved a break, a chance to just catch their breath and renew their strength before the next villain showed up (or Rumple found a way back from the Underworld where they’d left him). There was no doubt the new year would bring a new curse or villain or crisis of some type. Last thing they all needed was the hustle and bustle and stress of the Christmas season.
Henry had been disappointed, of course, but she’d promised to make it up to him. He’d seemed to accept it graciously enough after that, and Emma had hoped he accepted the town’s decision.
Guess not, if he was writing letters to Santa requesting Yuletide backup.
“Not to state the obvious,” Killian said, settling his arm around Emma’s waist, “but there is a tried and true method for breaking curses. Has anyone thought to try True Love’s Kiss?”
“Couldn’t hurt,” David said turning toward Mary Margaret.
Emma watched as her father bent toward her mother, as Robin took Regina in his arms, and then felt her own true love nudge her with his hook. “Shall we do our part as well, love?”
“Yeah, I think we’d better,” Emma said, smiling up at him. She took his face into her hands and pulled him down to her. This kiss was warm and sweet as ever, sending a rush of her true love magic rushing through her system—but no pulse of electricity; no waves of rainbow-tinted light.
As the strains of Mulan singing Do You Hear What I Hear filled the otherwise quiet diner, Emma came to realize they were dealing with a foe more formidable than any of them had expected.
~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~
It was a rather demoralized group that trudged back into Granny’s a couple hours later. Sleepy sang “Deck the Halls” in between yawns, but otherwise silence reigned. They’d yet to find a cure for their musical malady.
This “Christmas” was an odd custom, Killian thought to himself as he slid into a booth and then promptly laced his fingers with his wife’s. It was purported to be a happy time, full of magic and merriment, but the residents of Storybrooke regarded it nearly as drudgery.
Then there was this “Santa Claus” fellow. Per Swan, he was said to be the very embodiment of the Christmas spirit—both jolly and benevolent.
Having just met the man, he could vouch for the jolly part, but benevolent…that was far more up for debate.
They’d no more than determined True Love’s Kiss was not a solution to this particular curse than Belle had burst into the diner, book in hand (singing “Jingle Bell Rock” under her breath—an odd song, that).
“I think I know who Santa is in Storybrooke!” she’d announced. “You know that guy, Kris who runs the North Pole Ice Rink? It’s got to be him! Think about it, he’s got a long white beard, his laugh sounds like ‘ho, ho, ho’ and he’s always warning trouble-makers that he’s keeping a list and checking it twice.”
“That does sound like Santa,” Henry agreed.
“Now that we’ve presumably found our villain, what do we propose to do about the situation?” Killian asked, idly caressing Emma’s hand with his thumb.
“I don’t think he’s a villain, exactly,” Belle said, brow furrowed. “Maybe…if we just, I don’t know, asked him nicely he’ll lift the curse for us.”
Regina tutted and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure jolly old St. Nick’s just going to do what we want because we asked nicely.”
Emma sighed deeply. “Well it’s worth a shot. Don’t hear anyone else coming up with a better solution.”
And so they’d walked to the ice rink and discovered that Kris Kringle was indeed the Santa fellow they were in search of. They’d walked in the door of the establishment to be greeted by a large number of very small men—elves, Swan had called them—all singing “Here Comes Santa Claus” as a man with a long white beard, rosy cheeks, a rotund belly and a permanent look of good humor came forward to greet them.
Most unfortunately, the Evil Queen had been quite correct. While Santa had laughed merrily, he’d flat out refused to accede to their request, insisting the terms of the curse were quite absolute. The compulsive singing would only come to an end when the town had achieved sufficient Christmas spirit and come to accept and embrace the holiday at hand.
And so, thwarted again, they’d returned to the diner to plot a new strategy.
“Hark the herald angels sing,” the fairies began from the other side of Granny’s.
“Not to state the obvious,” Leroy began, “but True Love’s Kiss didn’t work; confronting Santa didn’t work; we’re about to strike out.”
“How about you keep your unhelpful comments to yourself, dwarf?” Regina snarled.
“Watch it sister,” Leroy returned, “you can take your attitude and shove it up your…”
Emma slashed the air with her hand; just in time, it would seem. The queen seemed on the point of forming a fireball. “Not helping guys.”
Killian wrapped an arm around Emma’s shoulders, and she slumped against him with a sigh. “Perhaps we didn’t get the result we hoped from our confrontation with Santa Claus, but it is possible that we obtained a solution to our problem nonetheless.”
Emma turned toward him. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” he answered, smiling down at her. “Santa did offer us a way to break the curse. We simply need to embrace the spirit of this Christmas. Perhaps it wasn’t what we planned, but it would seem the choice is simple: either we follow the demands of the curse, or we learn to live with the constant barrage of musical offerings from this town’s citizens.”
~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s
“Just a little to the left, David” Mary Margaret said, stepping back and tilting her head to the side. “No, back to the right, but just a tiny bit…there! Perfect.”
“Okay folks,” Leroy said, grin on his face, “ready to light it up?”
A chorus of cheers greeted him as he put the plug into the socket.
Emma grinned as she heard the delighted gasp of her pirate husband who was holding her close to him on their couch. “Swan!” he breathed. “You’ve the daftest customs in your land; who would think to bring a tree inside and decorate it? I must admit, however, that draped with the baubles and festive lights it’s a wonder to behold.”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek before settling back with her head on his shoulder. “Yeah, it certainly is.”
It had been decided that Killian’s idea was the only real solution to the town’s problem. Regina and Leroy had objected at first, insisting that it set a bad precedent, bowing to Yuletide terrorists, but in the end, they’d been overruled.
Henry had been so excited, he’d immediately started planning, calling the new mission “Operation Reindeer”. How could Emma deny her son when he was so enthusiastic? And really, what was so bad about Christmas anyway? Why had they all been so insistent not to so much as put up a string of Christmas lights?
In the end, getting into the Christmas spirit herself, Emma had offered the Swan-Jones house as a meeting place and begun planning a Christmas party, the likes of which Storybrooke had never seen.
Emma smiled, burrowing deeper into her husband’s side as her mom and Regina put the last touches on the tree. She had to admit, this was kind of…nice. There’d been a spirit of joy and anticipation that had settled over the whole town as everyone pitched in to show Christmas that when they invited someone in and held a party in its honor, they did a proper job of it.
As the talking, laughing and merry-making continued long into the night, Emma suddenly realized something. “Killian, I haven’t heard a single person sing a carol in about three hours!”
He kissed her softly. “It would appear you’ve broken yet another curse, love, though I’d never doubt you. There’s not a curse in any realm that’s a match for you.”
“Not me,” Emma said, looking around at her family and friends, “us. All of us.”
“Be that as it may,” Killian said, affixing a sprig of mistletoe onto his hook and holding it above them. “You’re still bloody brilliant. Now, if I’m to understand correctly, there is a tradition in this realm related to the weed on my hook. In the spirit of Christmas, I believe we really must comply.”
“Oh, you think so, do you?”
“Most assuredly.”
She laughed, reaching up with both arms and pulling him down to her. He came more than willingly, his lips curved into a delighted smile as she thoroughly and enthusiastically fulfilled the requirements of standing beneath the mistletoe.
“So, pirate,” she whispered, lips still against his. “If I remember right, we were in the middle of something when the town burst in on us this morning. What do you say we wrap this party up and get back to that?���
His smile turned decidedly wicked. “I’d say of all the brilliant ideas you’ve had today, that is most definitely your best.”
NEXT CHAPTER->
#christmas reruns 2023#cs fanfiction#captain swan christmas ff#my fanfiction#santa claus is coming to town
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[scrambling up to you] can i pls get “that really spooked you” from the noticing trauma prompts for the delanceys? <3
Hello!! Ty! Oscar is the one having a Bad Time this time round! Enjoy :D (all the usual Delancey CW’s apply!) hope this is okay!
Sometimes Morris thought he knew his brother better than he knew himself. He wasn’t introspective or any of that shit, but he knew they’d been raised on sharing looks rather than words. He had scoped out every inch of his father’s face so he could tell what he was feeling, so he could prepare for what any one look might mean, and he guessed it was the kind of thing that stuck.
It meant he knew every way Oscar’s eyebrow moved and what it meant. Meant he knew what he was feeling through the twitch of a lip, or the tensing of his shoulders, or that one look he would send Morris when he needed him to shut up for their own good if nothing else.
All of it was catalogued and filed away and reinforced any time he was right. Which was most of the time. Right now, all the signals were pointing a certain direction.
“Oscar?”
“What?”
He was bristling, like a cat with it’s back arched in a warning to keep people away.
“Spooked you, didn’t it?”
And there he went again, shoulders hunched up and Morris could see his jaw working, took note of the way he avoided looking Morris’s direction, gaze intense and focused on the street in front him; the kind of look that made other people walking in opposition to them shuffle out of his way before he ran through them.
There was one lady though, distracted by the little girl whose hand she was holding who wasn’t paying attention, didn’t move fast enough, and Oscar didn’t stop as he hit her with his shoulder on the way past.
“Oscar.”
“She didn’t move.” He shot back, refusing to turn and look at him.
“You gonna slow down a sec’?”
“We gotta get to work.”
“Oscar.” He caught his arm, only for a second before he wretched it out of his grip, but it made him stop nonetheless, and Morris took advantage of the stillness that settled for just a moment to study him, to notice the vaguely vacant look in his eyes. “I said that really spooked you, didn’t it?”
It was the way his face closed off as Morris spoke that proved him right.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? Watching that guy hit his kid ain’t throwin’ you off?”
Oscar finally looked at him, properly looked at him.
“Kid prob’ly’ deserved it.” He spat.
His voice was cold when he spoke, the forced kind, not the kind that he used when he yelled at the newsies, not the kind that got snapped at Morris when he talked too much, too late. Something fake and threatening, almost a sneer but built with the intention that it would make anyone aside from Morris back off.
“Maybe, but that ain’t the point.” Morris paused, and shoved a hand against Oscar’s shoulder to start them walking again so they weren’t taking up space standin’ still in the middle of the street, but a little slower this time. “You don’t get all jittery when Uncle Wies yells.”
And he was making it sound like Oscar had made it obvious, as if the way he noticed how Oscar’s hand tightened into a fist in his pocket was perceptible to everyone as their attention had been drawn to a man and presumably his son arguing outside a diner. Oscar’s gaze had been fixed and distant on the scene, the casual slant of his back as he leant against the wall next to Morris, smoke in his free hand, becoming tenser as it escalated, snapping when the man finally cracked the back of his hand across the kid’s face.
That’s when Oscar pushed away, cigarette left forgotten on the ground and Morris trying to read through the line of his shoulders what the hell was happening in his brother’s head.
Oscar let out a half scoff, half laugh, something so tired underneath it all. “Uncle Wies don’t yell like that.”
Morris shoved his own hands in his pockets, slowin’ his pace a little as to stick by Oscar’s side, he always was the fast walker of the two of em’.
He almost let the conversation lie there, almost, but one glance at his brother confirmed that the line of his jaw was still hard, the hands in his pockets still flexing.
Morris threw an arm around his shoulders in the way Oscar had done to him a hundred times over.
“You ain’t that kid no more Oscar. An’ you know I got your back too.”
Oscar didn’t say anything back, but he didn’t have to, the way Morris could feel the tension in his shoulders dissolve little by little was enough.
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Give us 3 things you like best about your top 3 blorbos plsnthx
I am going to stick to canon/not OC blorbos bc I feel like I talk too much about Lottie and everyone is annoyed by it
Hector Barbossa - (POTC)
I would be remiss to not first include the OG blorbo. The introductory Old Man. The character that made me realize something was a little Funky™️ about my gender/sexuality.
Okay, first of all, I love how sincerely full of himself this man is. He really thought he could pull Keira Knightley despite being the scrunkliest pirate on earth and you know what - good for him!!! Shoot for the moon, even if you miss you’ll land among the stars etc etc. We love an unconventionally attractive person who knows they’re hot shit.
The fashion sense/vibes - the fucking ostrich feathers in the hat. The rings. The big ass necklace. The single fang earring. The swagger walk. The matching pet monkey. The bisexuality of it all. In all seriousness, I love the way his outfit and accessories serve to play up his overly dramatic theater kid energy but also are very interesting when you consider that he came from extremely humble beginnings. He’s showing off what he’s fought tooth and nail for and it is working for him, honey.
I really, genuinely love that we got glimpses - in the first movie - of the fact that the character we were seeing wasn’t always like this. Ten years of being a walking corpse had twisted him beyond the recognition of people who knew him (even Jack looks pretty damn horrified a few times despite having been on the receiving end of his bad behavior before) and YET. When he gets resurrected we find out… he still sucks lmao. Like, he’s not outright cruel and isn’t totally insane anymore but he’s still ultimately just a selfish, snarky, conniving geezer who’s only part of the “good guys” because it serves him and his interests. There wasn’t really a redemption arc (the 4th and 5th movies are not canon, fight me) and he, at best, just ended up being the weird unsavory uncle to the main cast. What a king.
Sandor “The Hound” Clegane - ASOIAF/GoT
If you followed me prior to 2021 you know this was my prior HBIC (head blorbo in charge.) I still love him dearly and I hope he’s enjoying his retirement.
Look at him. No, really, look at him. Help??? Aside from me being a thirsty bitch, I have an extreme soft spot for characters who are visibly different and not in a purple eyes/horns/otherwise “sexy” way. Bodies are lived in and should look as such - and, this might be shocking to some people, disabled and/or disfigured people exist and they’re just as cool and hot and worthy as anyone else (I would know 😎.) I actually think the show should have gone a little harder on his burn scars but oh well. Sheesh, I need a cold shower.
His road trip arc with Arya. Need I say more? Y’all know I am WEAK for father/daughter dynamics and it’s even better when they’re both murderous lunatics. I love that she makes him softer but he doesn’t try to restrict or control her. I love that he tries to show that he cares in the only way that he knows how which is by teaching her how to rip/maim/tear/kill. Like, I know everyone enjoyed this part of the story because there were some genuinely hilarious moments and it was absurd, but I think under the surface we got some really fascinating insight into who he actually is and we were robbed of cranky but proud adoptive dad!Sandor in the show. I’ll be mad forever.
Fuck the city. Fuck the kingsguard. Fuck the king. We stan - I am obsessed with his realization that he doesn’t need or want to do anyone’s bidding anymore. I love that he turns heel but also has no idea who he is once he’s not Cersei’s dog - I love that he initially relies on his warped perception of people and the world to survive and slowly but surely begins to realize that maybe he doesn’t need to focus on revenge and violence all the time. I think it’s pretty obvious that GRRM is kind of going for a “a dog’s behavior will reflect its master’s” thing with him and if we ever get another book (lol) I am excited to see what becomes of him. Because he’s pretty clearly not actually dead.
Karl Heisenberg - Resident Evil Village
Literally WHERE have you BEEN if you didn’t see this coming lol. The reigning champion. Completely unchallenged for over a year and a half. I am chewing on him as we speak like a squeaky toy.
Okay, like… obviously I’m very fond of his design. I love that he’s fat. I love that he’s got a super unkempt beard. I love that his hair is grey and that his clothes are dirty and he’s covered in scars. I love that he looks like someone who works (in contrast to Alcina, for example) and isn’t concerned with his appearance. This is such a small and shallow thing maybe but with the tendency for media to just make everyone Extremely Conventionally Attractive, I’m enamored by characters like this. Actually, this has been a thing across all three of these guys, hasn’t it? Hmm.
Completely love that he’s an actual genius with the apparent imagination of a little kid who just downed an entire box of sugary cereal. “What if I stuck this propellor engine onto a dude’s torso.” “Drill arms never hurt nobody.” “JET PACKS!!! I need jet packs!!!” He’s such a fucking nerd, too, like his deranged cackle followed by “…ending recording” on that tape you find is so cute and stupid. Karl what the hell is going on I love you so much. It makes me wonder who he would have or could have been if he hadn’t found himself kidnapped into an abusive cult - I’m getting strong “Bill Nye but make him chaotic neutral” vibes. Eccentric raccoon man. Peepaw is feral and I’m going to fuck him.
If you’ve ever read anything I’ve written with him in it, you know I like to play up the fact that it’s pretty clear (to me, at least) that the swagger and showmanship is a mask for… a lot of shit. And that is extremely compelling to me - even if it’s ultimately just my HC. The stutter, the “sorry about that” after Sturm keeps making noise, the diary entries and comments that seem to indicate he hates his body after what Miranda did to him, his pretty heartbreaking last words. I don’t really see the genuinely confident daddy dom that a lot of the fandom sees - and no hate if you do!!! For me, with the canon fact that he never leaves the factory, he reads to me like someone who is incredibly socially inept and inexperienced, someone who is struggling to accept what he is now, and, perhaps most importantly, someone who really believes he’s the hero of the story and is blind to the fact that his rage and pain have turned him into what he hates most. I feel like he says all these things that make him sound like he’s full of himself but then you see him and he’s… just some guy. Living in a dirty factory with clothes that should have been thrown out a long time ago. And he’s lost it, and he’s furious, and yeah on some level he’s a bit of a selfish jackass but I wonder how much of his posturing is him needing to hear himself say it because he doesn’t really believe it and is terrified he won’t be strong enough to free himself. I just love him, y’all. I’m not sure we’ll ever see him again (in RE canon) but I’m going to keep making content for him for a long time, I hope.
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looking in hindsight, kamala's run was extremely flawed and the dnc had no idea what they were doing; biden's admins are even distancing themselves from kamala to try and save their image. it is all very clear that the voters did not fail kamala, the democratic party that failed the voters.
i hope this doesn't come off as kicking a dog when it's down, i just wanted to let you know that there's was little the voters could do to help mend a broken campaign. we just need to hope the dems have learned their lessons and will evolve from this.
i really had to wrack my brain about why i could possibly be receiving this and then i remembered my “we failed you kamala” post and i understood. but to be clear, “we” was NOT the democratic voters??? it’s pretty much everyone but the people who actually showed up and voted blue but also just generally referring to america as a whole
i really have to disagree with you on your points about her campaign. to say that biden’s distance from kamala’s campaign is in any way for HIS benefit is laughable. that was a very very calculated choice but it was calculated on kamala’s part to separate her own platform from his poor approval ratings. it didn’t work well largely in part because of her own hesitance to criticize his presidential run, but that is fair enough because as his vice president it’s incredibly difficult to run a platform where you disparage the acting present while you are literally still on his team. it would have just been confusing and got her accused of hypocrisy so there wasn’t much for her to do in the way of that
your criticism of her campaign is not entirely unwarranted but you’re not affording them enough grace. there was very little time to prepare for the switch and i think it was handled well considering how rushed it was forced to be. that doesn’t mean there’s no blame to place on the dnc / how it was conducted but to try and blame any single group or entity is not logical. the failure is a combination of the places where her campaign lacked - particularly in the way it failed to cater to voting blocks that should have been securely blue, third party voters, voter suppression, republican voters, independent voters without good decision making skills, racism, misogyny, and a thousand other minute factors that are practically untraceable
it’s understandable to be frustrated right now and look for a single person or thing to point at and blame but it’s not fair to put that on kamala and her campaign when it was clear she put everything she had into this. the democrats learned so much from hillary’s failure and that was so obvious in the deliberate choices made by kamala’s campaign that were so starkly different and so well calculated. there are just some obstacles that are insurmountable and all we can do is hope that one day that will change and america will get to see people of all genders, races, identities, and backgrounds serve as the president. not yet, and probably not in our lifetimes, but someday (assuming there is still a presidency to strive for but despite my excessively defeatist mindset yesterday i do think there will be)
these are all just my own opinions of course and you’re entitled to disagree but you shouldn’t send anonymous messages speaking so decisively about things that aren’t facts and i won’t do that on my blog either. i genuinely say this with love because i know your message was well intentioned <3 but i don’t even know much about the people whose blogs i follow beyond the limited perception that is afforded through urls, icons, themes, and whatever posts i can remember them making. i have even less confidence in a completely anonymous message “just wanting to let me know” what i could or couldn’t have done about the current political state of america or providing very general and sweeping statements about kamala’s campaign. im not saying this to be rude or because im mad and i did respond to your message earnestly but i just think this is important to note. messages like this can do more harm than good a lot of the time so i would caution people to tread lightly in both sending and reading them
#for the sake of transparency i will add that i paid a crap tom of money for a degree in political science#from joe biden’s alma matter fun fact 💁♀️💁♀️💁♀️#not saying i’m an expert!!!! i am just a recent graduate lol#i only add that because no one should be reading any sort of political think pieces without knowing their source#so know you know where my knowledge comes from and you can choose how much value to give my thoughts#asks#anonymous
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My first of many Arts and Culture pieces with the UO! As well as the first time I worked with Dylan O'Neill, now with the Examiner. Dylan was such an invaluable support to me during my first two years at the UO, and this piece on the casting of Jodie Whittaker as the Thirteenth Doctor really set us off on the right foot.
The article was originally published in November of 2017, and can be read at the link above, or in the read below.
Heather Reynolds deconstructs the myth surrounding role model exclusivity in media and literature.
This summer, on July 16th, the next actor to be cast as the Doctor was announced during a minute-long short on BBC One. As always, the hype for this event was huge. The topic was trending on most social media sites hours before the announcement was made. The conversation was overrunning other hashtags, such as Wimbledon and BBC News, with fans waiting with baited breath to see who would be taking over as the star of a show with a legacy lasting over fifty years. However, through all of these posts, tweets, and hot takes, one query surfaced time and time again. Would this announcement finally see the introduction of a female Doctor?
The time for the announcement came, Jodie Whittaker was announced as the new lead of Doctor Who, and the overwhelming response was positive. The majority of fans, men and women alike, were excited about the new opportunity this presented, with many pointing out how it was about time. Considering how many other Time Lords were known to regenerate into different species, transcending gender seemed like a small step in comparison. This wasn’t even the first time the modern iteration has had a Time Lord regenerate into a body that would be perceived as a different gender, with the role of the Master being portrayed by Michelle Gomez since series eight, taking over from John Simm’s Master. By all accounts, while it is a first for the Doctor, it isn’t a big deal in the show’s canon.
“The obvious response to this is: why can young boys not see a confident woman as a role model?”
However, while many rejoiced over this new role model for young girls in popular fiction, and others felt no particular way about it, there were many viewers who held incredibly negative views about the casting. Some felt robbed of the grandfatherly nature of the Doctor, who had endeared them to the role originally, and some felt that it was too much to explain to children that the Doctor, who changed body every few series, had done it again but a bit differently. The majority of criticism received was due to young boys having one less role model to look up to. The obvious response to this is: why can’t young boys see a confident woman as a role model?
This occurs time and time again with modern fiction, where men are seen as role models for all, and women are seen as just role models for young girls. Most modern television for children has male leads, including shows that are not geared towards a specific gender, whereas female led shows are perceived as a ‘girl thing.’ According to a recent study, 57% of protagonists in children’s literature published between 1990 and 2000 are male, with only 31% of lead characters being female. The remainder are animals, of which only 1/3 are female. Books and television shows with female leads are seen as less marketable, and are more likely to be turned down by those in charge in the industry.
However, this perception that boys cannot relate to a female protagonist has little basis in reality. The majority of children, regardless of gender, will look up to and relate to the ‘good guys’ regardless of who they might be. They may relate to some more than others, like the character that wears glasses like they do, or plays soccer like they do, but gender is often the last thing on their mind when looking at an ensemble cast. Many young children who feel ostracised by their ‘nerdy’ nature find solace in characters like Matilda and Eliza Thornberry, while others get the courage to stand up for what they believe in from characters like Mulan and General Leia Organa.
“While Skulduggery is the titular character, it is Valkyrie’s story and she is the character people emote with, boys and girls alike.”
To take a more Irish example, the Skulduggery Pleasant series by Dublin-based writer, Derek Landy is geared towards those aged 11 up into their late teens. The ten book series is based around a skeleton detective who solves murders and can summon fireballs into his hands. It, by all intents and purposes, sounds like the ultimate teen boy series. However, it has one clear difference from the other books you will find in this genre. Its protagonist is a teenage girl. While Skulduggery is the titular character, it is Valkyrie’s story and she is the character people relate to, boys and girls alike.
Female role models are for everyone, not just girls, and to limit the extent of their impact is to ignore and undervalue the immense good they do to the lives of so many children and adults alike. It’s long past time to gear media towards different children, instead of targeting children based on gender, and so, really, who cares about the gender of the actor who plays the Doctor, so long as they keep the fun and whimsy of the show alive?
Doctor Who returns to screens on Christmas Day on BBC1.
#article#ucd#university observer#doctor who#representation#archive#this is so old my apologies if it pops up in main tags#jodie whittaker#fun that doctor who is still returning to screens on christmas day on bbc1
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The Night Shirt and the Flower Pot
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Top dog but for a limited time only.
(Military parade in Beijing, October 1, 2019, marking the 70th anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic of China; screenshot from China Central Television)
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The secret to a long and happy life, I once read, was (1) not to marry before sixty; (2) not to wear a night shirt; (3) to drink a little alcohol every day. Perhaps one would not put it like that today, but the message was clear: go for it, have fun, keep going until you run out of steam.
The simple privilege of growing up in Western Europe during the second half of the 20th century gave people like me the choice of doing whatever we thought interesting - including saying no to offspring and family life. I measured the reach of this decision whenever I went traveling solo in less developed societies - Pakistan comes to mind - and people asked me how many children I had. They were worried, sometimes horrified, when I told them I had none. Their own culture taught them that life without children wasn't worth living, nonsense, a damnation. Childless women were abhorrent, arid. It was as bad as admitting to being an atheist in a Muslim country. In Haiti they said: a life without children is like an empty flower pot.
I soon figured out that it could be useful, or diplomatic, to tell people what they liked to hear, so I invented two or three children (with names and ages) whenever the conversational need for family arose. This was followed by evasive explanations why they were not with me or where my wedding ring might be. It may not have sounded perfectly credible, but it was better than the childless option.
Things have changed, somewhat. Perceptions of childlessness (or family size) have changed because the demographic reality has shifted in so many countries.
Across the world, two uneven and opposing realities are now at play.
F i r s t , the world's total population count continues to motor ahead with the overall number of births almost exactly double the number of deaths. The eight billion mark was passed in November of last year. India overtook China as the most populous nation a few months later. Even as the rate of India's population growth eases (now less than 1 % a year), the grand total keeps rising because the baseline creeps up steadily. That means India needs to look after some 13 million extra people every year. That number is expected to taper off to 'only' 3 or 4 million extra people a year by 2050.
The demographic trap is more obvious in a country like Uganda where the growth rate is still stuck in high gear (around 3 %, declining very slowly). That means the country is now adding 1,4 million inhabitants a year. Tiny and poor compared to India, Uganda would have around 90 million people twenty-five years from now. The pressure on the natural habitat, on resources, food production, infrastructure, education, health care is clearly enormous. And getting more so by the year. So is its realistic ability to limit greenhouse gases or deal with overall climate challenges.
Uganda is not an outlier. There are numerous African countries on a similar trajectory, with Nigeria, the DRC or Niger looming ever bigger in the demographic rearview mirror.
Efforts notwithstanding, female education and empowerment are lagging behind in large parts of Africa, meaning many girls are married before the age of 18 and are then more likely to have more children.
Then there is Afghanistan.
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India's current population is 1,412 million. Annual increase: just under 1 %. Its cost-ajusted per capita GDP is 7300 USD, the median age is about 29. United Nations Human Development index index is 0.623. (1)
Uganda's current population is 50 million. Annual increase: approx 3 %. Its cost-ajusted per capita GDP is 2500 USD, the median age is about 17. United Nations Human Development index index is 0.525.
By comparison, Germany's current population is 85 million. Annual increase: see footnote (2). Its cost-ajusted per capita GDP is 58,000 USD, the median age is about 46. United Nations Human Development index is 0.942.
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S e c o n d - mark that number, 46, which is the median age in Germany. More and more countries face shrinking populations as their fertility rates have plummeted. The ageing of 'developed' societies is the result of a collective reluctance to have children. It took a long time to get to that point. First, as living conditions improved over the last two-hundred years, the biological need for large families was eliminated. Then, as priorities shifted, the desire to have children faded away. Finally children became unaffordable or an impediment to personal freedom or socio-economic wellbeing.
This is a very fundamental rethink in the evolution of our species. When it happens, the empty flower pot starts to look a lot more appealing to a lot more people, especially when it fills up with iPhones, BMWs and fast food. Populations shrink inexorably unless they are boosted by younger migrants with higher birth rates.
Of all the nations that confront a rapid population decline, China is projected to be the most spectacular. This is, of course, rooted in the former one-child policy, introduced by Deng Xiaopeng in 1979 and implemented two years later. Although never fully or evenly applied, it prevented an estimated 400 million Chinese from being born – equivalent to the entire population of North America.
By the time the Chinese central government figured out, some ten years ago, that the runaway populaton growth of the sixties had given way to impending 'demographic failure', it was too late. The Chinese people had lost their interest in having babies. Efforts to revive the fertility rate have failed so far. In ten years the birth rate has dropped from 14.6 to 6.8 per thousand inhabitants. It keeps falling.
Much of China's assertiveness in world politics is arguably shaped by this concern: there is a shrinking window of opportunity for China to exploit its numerical, military, scientific and economic might to become # 1. If this is China's century, its decline is already in sight. The median age in China (39) is on par with that of the US. It is ten years more than in India and almost twenty years more than in subsaharan Africa.
Beyond the current, fitful reconfiguration of the world order in what the Chinese already label 'the new era' - see the war in Ukraine or China's own militarism - looms the convulsion driven by demographic change. The so-called global north (redefined to include China later in the century) shrivels while much of the global south expands.
As China eventually joins the other ageing have-beens (Japan, the USA, Europe, South Korea, Russia, etc.) it will likely be challenged by India and African superstates like Nigeria and Ethiopia. (This is obviously contingent on the climate catastrophe being averted, which looks far from certain and could well be the mother of all demographic convulsions.)
Although the demographic reversal is not as yet fully reflected in geopolitics, it clearly shows up in different ways. Most of us get more conservative and anxious as we age, the turning point having been determined after the age of forty-five. The older, the more insecure and fearful. Younger societies are more open and secular while older societies are more closed and more likely to be spooked by tradition, xenophobia, religion, etc.
Look at the drama over raising the pension age in France a few months ago. In principle it is a minor adjustment that makes mathematical sense. Fewer people of working age are generating less tax revenue to support ever more pensioners. The dependency ratio is wrong, it is unsustainable, it leads to fiscal meltdown. But the popular revolt in France was such that the reform did not make it through parliament and was finally passed by presidential decree.
There are many reasons for the reactionary populism that is eroding democratic societies, but the ageing of the population is like the soundtrack forever playing in the background. Call it the song of the empty flowerpot if you like.
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(1) https://www.worldometers.info/ (data based on UN figures) The GDP per capita used here is the World Bank calculation at purchasing power parity in current USD for 2021. (There are many different ways to calculate this. Nominal GDP is much lower.)
(2) Germany's population grew by 1,455,000 or 1,3 % in 2022, due to a sudden influx of refugees from Ukraine. The year before the increase was 0,1 %.
See also: - The Age of Penetration. https://peakwealth.tumblr.com/post/140290760897
- There goes Old Europe. https://peakwealth.tumblr.com/post/624511103563595777
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