#just because some think it was shitty or too depressing

[kingdomaddiction]

So what if when SQH arrived to PIDW he was fragmented into three different people?

1. He wakes up after he thinks is the end. He’s a young, beautiful woman. And apparently she’s a cultivator? Su Xiyan, they call her. She realizes she’s in her damn story playing the role of a character that’s meant to die. She hates it and tries really hard to change history but it’s useless. No matter how hard she tries she can’t get the palace master off her ass. Really, that dude is a creep.

She tries to run away but here’s something invisible keeping her there, spoiling all of her plans. It’s infuriating. So, she decides just not to play along. Ignore the plot.

Suddenly she meets a demon. They fall in love and it’s inevitable.

It’s doom. She knows what will happen to her, to him (her silly, lovely demon Lord, it’s hard not to love him— she never stood a chance), to her unborn child.

She cries and begs and screams but she’s imprisoned. Punished for loving the “wrong” man.

It’s hard to remember but she manages to scape. Her last memories are Luo Binghe’s cries. It’s cold, oh so cold, and she hates herself for writing something so sad and depressing.

2. He’s a child again. Not sure how that’s possible, but he’s living and breathing. Shang Lei is pretty sure he died in a very pathetic and pitiful way.

For a long time he thinks it’s just a dream. But the hunger and pain feel real.

Shang Lei finds out he’s living in the PIDW universe when a cultivator visits the town talking about the recruitment for Cang Qiong Sect. He wants to laugh and cry and run the other way but then a blue screen pops up scaring the shit out of him.

A system, he has a system. Now he understands this second life is not for him to enjoy, but to fix his own story (excuse you??? Fix???).

He’s forced to join the sect, to join An Ding, and it takes an embarrassing amount of time to realice he’s Shang Qinghua, the cannon fodder.

It’s depressing and anxiety inducing but he has no other option but to obey the cruel system.

He meets Mobei and he swears it’s love at first sight. Obviously he promises to follow him forever —the system intervention is not needed.

Years passes, he becomes head disciple. It’s hard, unpleasant work. He hates it with all his gut. But the system needs him to be a Peak Lord, so Shang Lei becomes Shang Qinghua.

He’s nervous, Binghe’s birth is near. He knows it, he has been keeping track.

And one day… it happens.

His head feels like it’s been split open. He screams and everything turns black.

When he wakes up he’s at Qian Cao infirmary. Mu Qingfang is trying to talk to him, her?, but he’s overwhelmed by the memories flashing in front of him.

It hurst so much, physically and emotionally.

The system is apologizing to him (a first, really,) talking about a glitch and diving his soul. Qinghua is not listening, he can barely breathe. All he can think of is his baby and her darling husband now imprisoned under a mountain.

Before he can think of running of there and look for Luo Binghe (he’s just baby— he needs me! ) the system warns him.

He’s not allowed to find him. He’s not allowed to save him.

Mu Qingfang witnesses the worst second case of Qi deviation he has ever seen in his life.

3.

He wakes up. She’s a woman, an old woman. Her body hurts from hunger, cold, and age.

It must be a dream, she thinks. But when she wakes up the next day, and the next, and she’s here. Shang Lei has to accept his reality.

He died, and instead of just… dissolving or some shit, now he’s an old woman (really, what the fuck?) with no name, no family, and no money in a xianxia universe.

It’s shitty, really shitty.

She tries to… adjust. It’s not easy and the people of this town is extremely cruel. She still manages to find a job as a washerwoman. It’s hard on her because of her age and the seemingly eternal cold of this cursed town, but it gives her enough to buy food so she tries not to complain much.

The loneliness is the issue. Sometimes is too much to handle. She cries and begs the gods to send her someone, anyone, just to stop feeling so lonely.

And then it happens.

A cold morning, a river, a child.

She jumps into the water ignoring the freezing temperature and fights against the current. She almost drowns but it’s worth it. Because now she’s holding in her arms the most beautiful and adorable baby boy she has ever seen in her life.

Her heart feels so full. A child, her child.

There’s no doubt in her heart. This child is hers.

“Luo Binghe,” she says and laughs. It’s silly, her own little private joke to name her child like her protagonist, but isn’t it a nice coincidence?

He, like her protagonist, was floating down the river in the coldest day of the year and was found by a washerwoman.

A washerwoman just like her.

A washwoman…

A baby…

A river…

.

.

.

Huh.

… no matter, she raises Binghe. He’s such a polite, lovely child. Her perfect little gentleman. She tries to teach him about love and kindness, even when the townspeople are cruel and mean Binghe needs to be good!

He’s so smart and grows so fast it makes her proud. But she’s afraid, she can feel her body becoming weaker and weaker with each passing day.

It’s just her and Binghe, no one else. If she dies he’ll be alone.

Her sweet boy tries to help, and when she inevitably falls ill he works hard to put food on the table for both of them.

Sometimes he arrives dirty, his eyes filled with tears and bruises on his face. He always gives her a warm, big smile when he sees her and her heart aches.

Her time is coming, she knows. And she begs him to be good, to be kind even when it’s pointless. She no longer tries to deny it, Shang Lei is aware in which universe they are living.

The last thing she sees are the eyes of her beautiful child filled with tears begging her not to leave him.

4. SQH wakes up in QC again. He’s numb and Mu-shidi looks alarmed, he seems discussing his state with the sect leader (what is he doing here?)

The memories of Luo Binghe’s mother, his/hers, fills him with both warmth and sadness.

She raised him, she managed to raise her son. Even if she didn’t know she birthed him, she loved Luo Binghe as her own and did her best to give him a home.

But now he’s alone… and Shang Qinghua can’t reach him. Because the system is stopping him, threatening to hurt him or his son if he dares not to follow the script.

It’s so unfair and twisted, he wants to cry. But he can’t fight so he’s forced to watch his son grow from far away… Abused, beaten, and punished.

He despises SQQ and plans on killing him. But then he has a Qi deviation so strong his whole personality changes and suddenly his son is finally treated with respect and love and Binghe seems to adore his new Shizun (maybe a little too much??? Young man! That man is way too old for you!!!!)

Life is good, for a while.

Binghe is thrown into the abyss, he finds out SQQ is a transmigrator (but unlike him he wasn’t split), they form and alliance and so much shit happens that his story is no longer his.

It’s different, good. Binghe is happy, his old lover is free (still as handsome as the day they met), Mobei has promised to threat him better (i love you, do you love me, my king?) and he has no system to worry about anymore.

… But he stares at Binghe sometimes. Yearning for him. To hold him and kiss his forehead and she used to do when he was a child.

Unfortunately it’s not possible. Binghe hates him (please I beg you, the system forced me, —) and sees him as nothing more than a rat.

He tries his best to pretend it doesn’t hurt, but whenever LBG insults him he locks himself up in his rooms and cries. He could tell him the truth since the system seems to be gone but Shang Qinhua is paralyzed with fear. He knows he wont be able to survive Binghe’s rejection. So, SQH lowers his head and takes it no matter how vicious Binghe’s comments get when his cucumber-bro is not around.

.

// ran out of ideas—

I haven’t decided how but ???? Maybe one day SQH talks with Tianlang-Jun and the demon is reminded of a beautiful cultivator of his past and is instantly captivated. He follows him around much to Mobei and all the other demons dismay. It makes Binghe uncomfortable because that man is his father, why is acting like with SQH of all people?

(Mobei and Tianlang-jun fighting for SQH’s attention— him earning a reputation for having the former emperor and the second strongest demon in all the realm after him. SQH remains oblivious to it, thinking they are just being nice)

(SQQ: airplane this is so fucking dumb what kind of extras are these????)

(Binghe gets… suspicious. Tries to get closer to SQH to investigate— is this a plot to usurp the throne? What’s so special about him?

SQH is just glad his son is paying positive attention to him! No insults, no mean comments! Is he doing something right? He wont question it—

• SQQ jealous shenanigans.

• SQH slipping and using his other life knowledge to spoil LBG.

LBG: ????? Wtf???? How does he know i like this? Why— how? Is he stalking me?

SQH: I made this dish for Jungshang—

//tastes just like his mother’s cooking.//

LBG: *cries*

• TLJ and MBJ temporary truce. They can’t lose SQH to LBG.

• SQQ still losing his shit: wtf you hack author this is my husband!

• SQH and Binghe bonding, very wholesome, very cutesy. Binghe is really conflicted but this… it feels familiar. And… Shang-shishu smells like his mother???? Oh, he’s crying again.

Yeah, that the idea I hve so far idk feel free to use it or add anything I’ll go have breakfast now 👍🏽

[professorsta]

Fandoms are weird nowadays! It's like people watch a movie or show and instead of trying to understand the message the creator is wanting to send, or the idea meant to be conveyed, fans just criticize, co-opt, and refuse to acknowledge the writers vision and intent. Explaining how they would have done it or how better it would have been if it was written their way. Supernatural for example was a show ripe with criticisms, but it honestly would have done the fandom a disservice if, from the get go, we didn't like and didn't care to see where Eric Kripke was taking the story. The show was filled with rich plots and characters with very interesting questions about morality, family, sin, good and bad, but none of that would have been appreciated if the fandom wasn't able to look past the dead end arcs and throw away character in the first couple of seasons (which allowed the grey areas lacking in depth, helping in bringing about the fandom btw) and instead tried to "salvage" or "save" the story by completely rewriting the world and characters. Building theories and finding evidence to fill in the missing puzzle piece in your mind is essentially what the point of a fandom was. It was seeing canon and going, there's more there that the creators aren't aware of, and I want to delve into it. Its taking all of it, the subtext, context, characters, and psychology (even if it's not to your liking), and using that to further understand the stories point of view. Like loose pieces of thread being tied back together to make sense of the whole picture. It not "this shows narrative shouldn't have concluded like that!" gives no examples in canon as to why and doesn't have an argument to back it up. "Here's how it should be!" completely disregards canon and the message the creator was trying to send and instead replaces it with a completely different one. Now people watch movies and film and get upset when the characters don't act a certain way, not caring to read into context and maybe try and understand from the narratives point of view as to Why they would act like that. They see how flawed and vapid some scenes and episodes are and don't take it for the chance it is, which is to further the narrative yourself. Most fandoms are bred from shows and movies with the biggest plot holes, with a-lot of characters, and a wide range of different characterizations for each of them so just embrace it and embrace the flaws in our creations, because perfection just leads to dead ends.

[ahollowgrave]

.

thank you to everyone who left a nice comment or DM'd me or whatever yesterday I didn't reply because I get very embarrassed when people show me compassion when I very clearly need it. But I read each one and saved them for next time and I am blowing you kisses and avoiding eye contact, you understand. depression is a known liar and you can't trust her. she is very convincing, however, and so when it gets to you please know I am there holding your hand.

[arrowpunk]

Sometimes I think about how I used to know this like fairly popular artist who made a decent living off commissions who like, very purposefully put in her terms of service that she wouldn't draw ships. Which is fair, artists can do what they want- but I was friends with her at the time and so I knew the entire reason she had that in her terms of service was because she didn't want to draw any queer ships.

And the thing that gets me about it is that the majority of her fan base was/is queer. And so fairly frequently people would commission her to draw like 2 different bust portraits of the different halves of their gay ship- which! Good for them! But she like knew it was for ~gay shipping~ reasons and she wouldn't turn it down but she would come into the group chat and complain about how uncomfortable it made her. And how she hated how when she sold charms the most popular were always the popular fandom gay ship. Like she made/makes her entire living off of queer people. And like. Hates us. Behind the scenes where her fan base cannot see.

She would sometimes show the group chat asks she got asking if she was homophobic because it isn't actually that difficult to figure out if you pay attention. Because in spite of it all she did draw a lot of het ship art. And she would fret and worry that people would Find Out that she's. Really homophobic. And then she'd lose her entire source of income. (She would of course just delete the asks and never answer them)

And she always had such a victim complex about it too. Like The Queers were conspiring to get around her terms of service to make her, a Good Christian Woman draw their dirty little gay ships.

Like not a single thought spared for how she was profiting off of a marginalized group of people by publicly making sure she seemed totally fine with queer stuff. (In her charm sets she did always include the popular fandom gay ships, in spite of how much she complained about how she hated that people bought the charms for gay reasons) While behind closed doors she would mock and deride queer people and participate in discussions about how awful it is that queer stuff is so Normalized these days, and whatever happened to the sanctity of marriage and all that conservative evangelical bullshit.

And like I haven't interacted with her in many years, for uh. Obvious reasons. And it doesn't happen often but Every Now And Then some of her art will show up on my dash. Usually reblogged by someone openly and proudly queer, and I will just be sitting there like. Damn. You have no idea how much she hates everything about you. This sucks.

[born-to-lose]

Not my mom badmouthing the job I'm really excited to get 🤡🤡🤡

[cathnospam]

Bakugo makes you laugh, A LOT and it drives him insane.

“It was not that damn funny.”

You try to conceal the snickers from your mouth, but fail horribly. All he did was mutter something about Mineta being a punk ass and it had you giggly.

At first he used to take offense by it, maybe you were laughing AT him and not what he says, almost like mocking him, that wasn’t until Deku quickly explained in passing that you laugh very easily.

But you don’t laugh this damn much with anybody else but him. At this point he thought you had a similar quirk to Ms. Joke, and he nicknamed you Giggles.

You both were studying in the library like you both usually do during exam week, and Bakugo noticed you haven’t been Miss. Cackle the past few days. Not even a smile actually and you’d think it would have been some relief for him from hearing your laugh obxonious laugh, but he’s actually more annoyed.

He looks up from his book and glances at you across the table, you’re typing away, with a less that neutral look on your face. Lips somehow forming a pout and eyes looking droopy. He scoffs going back to his work, but it was an itch he needed to scratch with you..?

“Who pissed in your breakfast.”

“What?”

“You been looking like a sad lost puppy all week what the hell is your problem.”

The corner of your lips cracked upwards a bit, almost as if you were fighting to smile, but instead you shrug, “‘Nothing you needa worry about. Why.”

It was almost concerning how calm you sounded. Your voice was more tame that you didn’t even sound recognizable which make Bakugo crease his brows, “You suck at lying. Is it, because of that shitty boyfriend you have pissed you off.”

He was referring to Shindo, he wasn’t your boyfriend, but he was a guy you got close with after meeting him a few years ago, but Bakugo was half right he was part of the problem.

You had a small crush on Shindo , but overheard him tell his classmates how he isn’t into you like that mainly because you’re not his type and how much he can’t stand how loud you talk/laugh sometimes.

It hurt hearing it, when he found out you heard he tried apologizing but you didn’t wanna hear it, so since then you’ve turn self conscious about speaking and laughing too loudly for the past week to avoid anymore issues that you have caused with people.

After slowly explaining to the Blonde he rolled his eyes, “You’re ganna let the walking vibrator dictate your life too? So stupid.”

“You hate my laugh too. What does it matter.”

Bakugo stayed silent for a moment while you went back to work. Thinking how could he word what he wants to say without sounding like an idiot, “I never said that, besides you never stopped even when I did tell you your laugh was annoying. If you want to cackle like a hyena who gives a fuck—“

You break into a snicker but end up covering it with your hand. He cracks a proud smirk, he almost forgot what you looked like with a smile, “I don’t wanna be loud. Just can’t help it.”

“We know.”

You giggle at his deadpanned voice, it really wasn’t your fault, you’re just so easy to please and Bakugo knows that, “Giggly ass, and I seen you almost laugh when Denki tripped at the lecture today.”

“Becauuseee he is always so dramatic when he falls.” You whined into a chuckle, sharing a small one with him.

It was a start of many more shared laughs after studying, Katsuki even tried to be just a LITTLE bit more funnier than usual when walking back to the dorms. When you finally cracked a real loud one out he felt himself grinning at you.

“Katsuki Alexander Bakugo are you smiling?”

“Don’t you EVER say my full name like that again got dammit I will blow you the hell UP!”

You almost fall to your knees of how funny his reaction was to you, it felt so good to smile again. You missed it, and so did everybody else the next day apparently.

Mina and some others thought you were depressed, Deku assumed you were sick, Denki outwardly blamed Bakugo which got him smacked, and IIda actually missed your loud noises as well.

Your classmates enjoyed your presence more than you thought they did.

But Bakugo missed it the most.

Your laughs drives him insane, because he loves to hear them.

[taeyongdoyoung]

daddy's home

summary: boyfriendless, jobless and hopeless, you rush to take the first opportunity you find, which is a nanny position. but the kids are not the only ones you grow fond of... pairing: seungcheol x reader genre: fluff, smut, single dad x nanny AU warnings: kids (triggering, i know), age gap (unspecified), mentions of past cheating, abandonment issues, potential therapy, male masturbation, confessions, blowjob, kissing, eating out, protected sex (unbelievable), dirty talk, size kink, pet names (sweetheart, angel, darling, little girl), sir+daddy kink, unprotected sex (with baby-making goal), breeding kink, creampie, more kids (sorry im ovulating) author's note: this is loosely based on the sitcom the nanny in that there's a single dad with three kids but minus the dead wife trope cuz that's too depressing for my tastes word count: 4.3k

You are desperate. Your shitty boyfriend cheated on you, broke up with you and you also lost your job. So it’s been a couple of terrible weeks. Now, you would take pretty much any kind of job as long as it pays enough for you to afford food and the bills. ASAP.

Single dad looks for a live-in nanny for his three kids. Full-time with Sundays off. Contact this number for more details.

Okay, truth be told, you’ve never considered yourself as someone who is good with kids. But how hard can it be? Have you mentioned you’re desperate?

“Listen, Miss L/N,” Mr. Choi, your potential future employer starts. “I appreciate your enthusiasm but I’m not just going to hire you. I’m looking for someone with experience.”

“Well, I have a bunch of nephews, if they turned out alright under my care, then I guess that counts for something,” you chuckle.

“That’s very nice but I’m talking about professional experience. Have you been a nanny before?”

“Technically, no, but how can I get experience if you won’t hire me?”

“Touché,” Mr. Choi laughs.

“How about a trial period? Let me spend some time with your kids under your supervision and prove myself capable.”

Mr. Choi nods reluctantly.

“Well, you’re in luck since my little goblins have driven away five nannies in the past month.”

Oh, dear. Five nannies…And here you were thinking this could be an easy job.

“So, what’s one more?” you chuckle nervously and Mr. Choi shakes your hand, agreeing to give you a chance.

You are excited when meeting his kids. The eldest daughter - Chaerry is 15, very elegant and polite. You think that you’ll have no problems with her and you’ll have lots to talk about. The middle child and only son - Dino is 10, extremely mischievous and loud. You’ll definitely have problems. Finally, the youngest daughter, Elsie, is 5, she’s such a cutie but leaves a mess of her toys everywhere she goes. It’s easy to trip if you’re not careful, but nothing you can’t handle.

The trial period goes by in a flash. Dino attempts to get on your nerves by pulling pranks like hiding fake spiders in your bag and spraying your outfit with ketchup, but you accept all that with an easygoing laugh. Elsie constantly asks you to play with her toys and you need an unlimited source of ideas to keep up with her wild imagination, but it feels more like fun than a job. Chaerry is quiet and doesn’t share much at the beginning but eventually tells you about this boy at school she has a crush on. So, you count that as a success.

“I must admit, Miss L/N, I had some worries at first but seeing how quickly my kids accepted you is remarkable,” Mr. Choi shares his observations with you at the end of the trial period.

“So, am I hired, then?” you beam with excitement.

“Absolutely, yes. The kids have taken a liking to you and changing nannies so often is probably not great for them, either.”

“So true. Kids need stability and I would be happy to stick around for as long as you’ll have me, Mr. Choi,” you are thrilled not only because you will have a bed to sleep, food to eat and money to spend, but because you are genuinely looking forward to spending more time with these little munchkins.

And spend time with them you do. You're not sure what exactly it is that makes the kids warm up to you, but whatever the reason, it's working.

With Chaerry, you talk about boys and high school drama and make-up. On one occasion, she tells you something that sincerely touches you.

“Thank you for being my best friend, Y/N. I know I shouldn't keep stuff from my dad, but he can be so overprotective sometimes it's difficult to talk about...well, going on dates with boys, mostly.”

“Aww, Chae, you can tell me anything. It'll be our little secret,” you give her a wink, followed by a hug.

You're not exactly sure what the correct response here is. But you'll make sure to maintain some kind of balance - both look after her safety so that Mr. Choi sleeps peacefully at night and not betray Chaerry's trust in you.

With Dino, after the initial phase of silly pranks passes, you notice that he's become more honest and calm.

“You won't leave us like our mom and all the other nannies did, will you?” he asks you one afternoon as you're watching TV together.

You haven't asked Mr. Choi what exactly happened with these kids' mother because frankly, it's none of your business, but something is telling you they're a lot more hurt than they let on.

“I'm not going anywhere, Dino,” you promise, though really, it's up to Mr. Choi to decide that.

“Good. It would really suck if you left.”

That's a lot, coming from the kid who damaged like half of your wardrobe with all kinds of sauces.

With Elsie, another strange situation takes place due to the fact that the kid has no filter.

“Let's play family!”

“Um, okay,” you agree without thinking much.

“This will be daddy,” Elsie points at a stuffed lion plushie and then grabs a tiger plushie, “And this is you, mommy!”

“Oh, honey. I'm not your mommy,” you try to explain as gently as possible.

“But can you be? Daddy says our mommy left and has a new family somewhere else.”

Okay, that's a lot to unpack here. Though you don't think it is your place, you'll need to have a conversation with Mr. Choi, because the kids obviously have some kind of unresolved trauma...

One evening, after the kids have gone to sleep, instead of going to your room, you wait in the living room for your employer to come back from work, so you can approach the subject as delicately as you can.

“Good evening, Miss L/N. Kids go to bed?” he greets you as he takes off his coat.

“Evening, Mr. Choi. Yes, they did. I was wondering if we can have a chat. It can be a sensitive topic, I'm sure, but for the sake of the kids, I think it's important.”

Mr. Choi nods and takes a seat next to you on the couch.

“About their mother...”

“I was wondering how long it'd take you to bring that up,” he chuckles bitterly. “Other nannies wanted me to spill the tea on day one.”

“Wow, seriously?”

“It's not like it's this big secret, I just prefer not to talk about it unless absolutely necessary. My ex-wife...cheated on me and got pregnant by another man, so we had a divorce and I kept the kids, because she said she wants to start anew with this other guy, and...well, the kids said this is their home and that they won't move. So, I suppose the judge took that under consideration.”

“My God. I had no idea.”

“You couldn't have known, considering I just said I don't enjoy revisiting those painful memories.”

“Yes, of course, I only meant that...I guess it explains some things. Forgive me for saying this, but I think the kids have some kind of abandonment issues. Elsie and Dino, in particular, they seem to have a fear that I'll leave just like...well, their mom and the other nannies.”

“And are you? Leaving, I mean.”

“Not if I can help it. Mr. Choi, your kids are very vibrant and precious to me. I genuinely love my job. But I'm worried that what happened with your ex-wife affected them more than they show. Maybe you should look into therapy?”

“I will definitely take that into consideration. Thank you for your candour, Miss L/N.”

“You're most welcome.”

“What about Chaerry?”

“What about her?”

“You said that Elsie and Dino express these abandonment issues. Does Chaerry not have them?”

“She probably does, but at the moment she's too busy thinking about boys.”

“Boys? At her tender age? I don't think so,” Mr. Choi immediately goes into ultra alpha protective dad mode and you honestly find it kind of funny. And hot.

“Oh, relax, Mr. Choi. It's just typical high school drama. There's nothing to be worried about.”

He shakes his head disapprovingly.

“I'm counting on you. Does it ever occur to you how quickly they grow up?”

“I suppose it's more difficult for you. I've only known them for a few months but I think I get what you mean.”

“Yeah...How strange, it feels like you've been part of this family forever.”

You try not to think too deeply about it. He...considers you part of this family. Elsie called you mommy. Dino doesn't want you to leave. And Chaerry talks to you about boys. A topic, which girls usually discuss with their mothers. Oh, sweet heavens. Maybe, this nanny gig is becoming more than a job...

One Monday Mr. Choi texts you not to come to work this Saturday, as the kids will be spending some time with their grandparents (aka Mr. Choi's parents). However, the moment you receive the text, you're too busy trying to escape from Dino who is chasing you with a water gun in the garden. So, you somehow forget to put it down in your calendar.

Saturday arrives and poor Mr. Choi thinks you'd be in your own apartment. Finally, some peace and quiet. His parents picked up the kids early in the morning to go to the park with them so he's all alone and free to do as he pleases.

But alas, you go down the stairs of Mr. Choi's enormous house and make your way to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast for the kids. However, it's too quiet. Hm, how strange. Maybe, they're not awake yet? You shrug as you pour some milk and cereal in a bowl.

Oh, you hear some noise from the living room. Is that the TV? Your curiosity gets the better of you and you enter it only to find Mr. Choi in a very compromising position. He is touching himself, watching very obscene things on the big screen!

You are on the verge of chastising your boss for doing something like that in the living room, where the kids could walk in any minute, when you remember. The kids...They're with their grandparents today. Which means that...Fuck, you're not supposed to be here. You should be at your own apartment instead of being witness to...your very sexy and very single employer taking care of his needs.

You are going to sneak back into the kitchen and wait for a more appropriate time to leave the house when you hear it. At first you think you're hallucinating but then you hear it twice. Your name.

“Y/N...please, let me-” Mr. Choi moans, his eyes closed, he is unaware of your presence.

However, he doesn't get to finish his sentence because you are so shocked that you drop the bowl of cereal, which shatters on the ground with a loud noise.

“Fuck, I'm so so sorry,” you murmur nervously as your boss finally notices you watching him.

His cheeks flushed, his lips pouting, he is the most adorable you've ever seen him. He hurries to tuck his cock back into his pants and turn off the TV.

“N-no, I'm sorry...Miss L/N, what are you doing here?”

Oh, so you're Miss L/N now...Very well, then.

“I apologize. It must have slipped my mind that the kids are with their grandparents today.”

“It must have,” Mr. Choi repeats coldly, obviously embarrassed by this situation.

You wonder if you should tell him what you heard. Would that be unprofessional? But then again, he is the one who said your name, so...what is professional anyway?

“Do you want me to leave?”

He sighs deeply.

“What's the point? You already saw me...fuck, I feel so humiliated.”

“Why would you feel humiliated? Am I so undesirable that my presence immediately turned you off?” you ask bluntly.

“That's not the case and you know it.”

“I'm not sure I know anything anymore,” you admit. “You...said my name. How is that supposed to make me feel?”

“You were never meant to hear that,” Mr. Choi hides his face behind his hands, the redness refusing to leave his complexion.

“But I did. So, what now?”

“Please, don't quit. I realize that what I did is unforgivable but...the kids care about you so much, it would devastate them to lose you.”

“I wasn't even thinking of quitting. But...are the kids the only ones who care about me?” you need to know.

“No...As it so happens, I care about you.”

“So, stop hiding from me,” you don't know where that boldness comes from as you grab his wrists and remove his hands, so you can look at his face. Fuck, he's so pretty.

“You're not...grossed out by me?” Mr. Choi blinks at you in surprise.

“Kinda flattered, actually,” you confess. “But I'd like it much better if you let me take care of your frustrations.”

“You would?” he is unable to believe his luck when you drop on your knees in front of him and take him out of his pants again, engulfing his cock with your pretty mouth. “Y/N...”

The way he says your name is enough to make you even more enthusiastic, sucking him deeper and bobbing your head to the best of your abilities. He grips your hair tightly and you make sure not a drop is spilled as you swallow his cum down your throat. You wipe off your lips and sit down next to him, unsure of what to do next.

“Mr. Choi...”

“Call me Cheol, please.”

“Cheol...may I kiss you?”

Seungcheol doesn't respond and instead kisses you passionately, grabbing your face with his hands. His tongue is exploring your mouth in ways you'd never imagined could bring so much pleasure and you can't resist the urge to sit in his lap. Somehow, against all reason, he's hard again, as you grind against him. Fuck. He's so hot and sweet and amazing you just want to make him happy. How anyone could cheat on this fine man is beyond you.

“Um...not to assume or anything, but do you have a condom?” you ask sheepishly.

“I do, yes,” Seungcheol goes to his coat and brings a package.

“I mean, don't get me wrong, I love kids, but I think we should be responsible considering this is our first time together and you already have three of your own,” you're probably talking too much but oh well. Better safe than sorry.

“No, I understand. You're totally right.”

“Will you fuck me?” you inquire.

“Here? On the couch?” Seungcheol is in disbelief.

“Well...you were touching yourself here, but I guess it's whatever. Your home, after all.”

He chuckles, suddenly embarrassed again.

“Come on, let's go to my room.”

Seungcheol offers you his hand and you follow him upstairs excitedly. Is this really happening? Are you seriously going to do this with your boss?

He lifts your chin up because he notices you're not meeting his eyes out of nervousness.

“Look at me,” he commands you easily and you're on the verge of falling apart and he hasn't even undressed you yet. The power this man holds over you... “We don't have to do this if you're not ready.”

“It's not that. I do want this. It's just...I don't remember if I told you but I was also cheated on. A little before I came to work here. And like, I haven't been intimate for a while, so I'm nervous. What if I mess something up?”

“Okay, first of all, give me that asshole's address, I just wanna talk. And second of all...darling, I haven't been intimate since way before my divorce took place. Trust me, I'm a lot more nervous than you right now.”

You shake your head.

“Whatever you do, I'm sure I'll find it like super hot.”

Seungcheol laughs and tilts his head, kissing you again.

“You're so cute,” he whispers against your mouth. “I can't wait to ruin you.”

And just like that, it's as if a switch is flipped. He pushes you onto the bed and leans above you menacingly, a devilish smirk painting his pretty face. Seungcheol pushes your dress up hurriedly, touching you all over.

“You really thought you could get away with it, huh? Walking around my house in those dresses of yours looking so sexy? Tempting me?”

“N-no, s-sir,” you murmur, not knowing where the title is coming from.

“God, I'm such a cliché. An old man unable to resist the gorgeous young nanny...”

“You're not old, sir,” you try to reassure him. You're not sure if he's just engaging in dirty talk or is actually having some insecurities. He's still young in your eyes. Whatever the case, you're there for him.

“Don't lie to me, sweetheart. I'm too old for ya...I have three kids. What do you have, hm?” Seungcheol speaks while caressing your pussy through your panties.

“I have you, sir,” you smile and palm his dick teasingly.

He sighs wistfully and buries his head between your folds, licking and teasing until you're a soaking mess for him.

“S-sir, p-please...C-cheol, don't stop,” you cry out helplessly.

It feels so good, too good. He holds you down, hands gripping your thighs as you cum against his tongue. He barely gives you any time to recover as he rolls up a condom on his cock. You stare at him hungrily, impatient to have him inside of you.

Seungcheol is like the drug everyone warned you about. Once you have him, you won't be able to quit.

“Are you ready?” he asks softly in sharp contrast with his previous behaviour.

“Please take me, Cheol,” you would beg if you had to.

And take you he does, entering you deeply with his big cock.

“Fuck, you're so tight, barely fitting me in,” he speaks, stroking your clit in circular motions with his thumb, while he fucks you harshly.

“It's okay, I won't break, sir,” you try to convince him.

“What if I want you to break, little girl?” Seungcheol inquires, his voice half-joking, half-serious, as he.

“Then, I'd be happy to serve you, daddy,” the word slips from your lips before you could think twice about it.

“Daddy, huh? You need daddy to make you cum?” you are grateful he plays along instead of making fun of you in this very vulnerable moment.

“Yes, daddy, please, I'll do anything for you,” you promise in a daze.

“Cum for me, sweet girl, let daddy take care of you,” his deep voice is enough to bring you to the edge.

“Fuuuck, daddy...Cheol,” you mumble repeatedly, as white appears before your eyes.

You're shaking in his arms but it feels like flying.

“I've got you, angel, daddy's right here,” Seungcheol comforts you, as he rides out his own high, spilling inside the condom. Then, taking it off and throwing it in the garbage bin, he hurries back to you.

You make grabby hands at him and he envelops you in a hug.

“I'm here, sweetheart,” he kisses your forehead gently and you melt against his chest.

“Cheol...I think you just murdered me a little,” you laugh.

“Well, then, I better make sure I revive you, because I can't imagine my life without you.”

“Good. You ain't getting rid of me.”

“That sounds perfect because me and the kids would like you to stick around.”

“Oh God, the kids! What time are they coming back?”

“We've got time, don't worry, they should-”

“Daaaad, we're home!” you hear Dino's loud voice from downstairs.

“Fuck,” Cheol curses under his breath and the two of you hurry to make yourselves look somewhat presentable.

Once dressed and back in the living room, you can only hope that you're not too obvious about what went down. However, you can't stop yourself from glancing at Seungcheol and he's just as flustered as you.

“Oh, hi, Y/N,” Dino greets you as if it's completely normal for you to be there. As if you belong.

“How was your time with your grandparents?” you ask, trying to act casual.

“We had so much ice cream!” Elsie squeals excitedly.

“Grandma and Grandpa took us to the park,” Chaerry starts telling you about everything they did in great detail and you are glad that the shy girl you first met is becoming a confident young woman.

Elsie is asking for more ice cream but Seungcheol is explaining that it's lunch time. Dino is painting the table with mustard and honestly, that's so on brand for him...

It is funny where desperation brought you. You realize this is the happiest you've been in a while.

Later, when Seungcheol catches you alone after spending the afternoon with the kids, he asks:

“I know we kinda messed up the proper order of things, but...would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Oh! I'd love that, Cheol. Is it okay to still call you that?”

“Yeah, it's alright.”

“What about in front of the kids? I'm not sure to what point you'd like to mix professional with...personal life.”

“In front of the kids is okay, too,” he laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Actually, do you know what Elsie keeps asking me?”

“What?”

“When will you make Y/N my new mommy?”

“Yeah, that definitely sounds like something Elsie would say.”

“So, um, no pressure. But I think you're more than the nanny to me.”

“Well, I would certainly hope so. I didn't raise you, mister!”

Seungcheol can't miss the opportunity for a joke. He takes hold of your hand and places it on top of his...very hard dick.

“You raised him, though,” he whispers.

“Mr. Choi!” you hiss, scandalized. “I mean...Cheol.”

“Did you mean daddy?” Seungcheol teases you relentlessly.

“Stop it, you deviant!” you shake your head. “Fuck, you'll never let me live this down, will ya?”

“Do you kiss your boss with that mouth?” he smirks.

“Don't mind if I do,” you reply and bring your lips to his.

A year passes by quickly. You love every day of your life. Whether it'll be spending time with the kids, or going on fun dates with your boss turned boyfriend, or having mind-blowing sex with said specimen, you are truly happy with how things turned out for the best.

With one tiny thing missing.

“Cheol, can I ask you something?” you mumble one evening, as you are playing with his soft, fluffy hair.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Seungcheol turns towards you, giving you his fullest attention.

“Have you ever thought about having more kids?”

“Hmm, it hasn't crossed my mind. I already have three kids. But it depends. Is that something you're interested in?”

“Not till now. But if it's with you, I'd love to have a kid,” you confess shyly.

“Well, then, let's make you a mommy,” Seungcheol quickly makes it his mission and for the first time, doesn't use a condom.

“Yes, please, daddy, give me your cum,” you moan wantonly, as he fucks you deep.

“Take it like the good girl you are, I'll give you all I've got, fuck a baby in ya,” he grunts in your ear, sounding even more excited than you are.

“I love it, feel so full,” you whimper and can't stop kissing him. You can't believe this beautiful man is yours and wants to give you another present.

“That's right, sweetheart, I'll stuff you full of it,” he moans and releases himself inside you. Your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper, as you reach your high.

Seungcheol gently pushes the cum that's spilling out of your pussy back inside and lifts your legs up.

“Do you think it'll stick?” you ask doubtfully.

“Can't hurt to try again until it does,” he shrugs, determined to succeed.

Nine months later, as you welcome the twins into the family, you realize you've never expected to achieve so much happiness.

“You really had to outdo yourself and give me not one but two babies,” you playfully push Seungcheol's shoulder.

“Is it too late now to say sorry?” he grins nervously.

“Don't be. I'm more than satisfied. But you'll have to give me a raise!”

“I'll give you something better than that,” Seungcheol promises and pulls a diamond ring out of his pocket.

“Oh my God,” you are in shock.

“Y/N...you've given me more than I could ever hope to deserve. You started off as a nanny but you became my three kids' best friend and now, the mother of two more angels. You became my closest person, my source of joy, my sweetheart. Knowing that I can come home to you is the best thing that's ever happened to me. Will you do me the absolute honour of becoming my wife?”

“Yes, of course, yes!” you say through your tears and kiss him, as he slides the ring on your finger.

“Can I call you mommy now?” Elsie peeks her adorable head behind the door, followed by Dino and Chaerry, who are all excited by the good news.

“Congratulations, Y/N!” Chaerry greets you with a hug and whispers: “Thanks for taking one for the team and making our lonely old man. happy.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Seungcheol complains loudly.

Dino jumps on the back of his dad with a loud squeal.

“You better treat her right, Dad!” the boy warns. “Or I'll ketchup your room!”

“Why do I feel like I'm the one being welcomed into the family?” Seungcheol bemoans his fate but he's never smiled wider.

“You'll get used to it,” you joke. “Come on, guys, meet your new brother and sister.”

“Hii, babies!” Elsie and Dino jump excitedly around the twins.

“Oh, they're so cute! Aren't they so cute, Dad?” Chaerry coos at the babies.

“They are, but it's too early for you to think about how cute babies are. Look at me...I already have five. Isn't it tragic?” Seungcheol keeps messing around.

“It could have been twelve or something,” you play along.

“I can't imagine,” Seungcheol cries out indignantly. But deep down, maybe he can.

The End

[cherrysnax]

i do wonder why I’m having all these weirdly vivid and grounded dreams all of a sudden

[bigfootsboytoy]

Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.

So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.

Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.

Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.

He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.

He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.

Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.

And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.

By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.

Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.

"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"

Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.

"I don't mind sharing."

Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.

Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.

"Are you really gay?"

Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.

"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."

It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.

"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"

"It's not weird."

"Okay."

Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.

"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."

"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."

"What do you do when it's not enough?"

"Hmmm?"

"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"

Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.

"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."

"Oh."

Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.

"I don't know how to do any of that."

He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.

"Steve...are you lonely?"

Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.

He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.

He panics a little at the sight.

"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."

And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.

Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.

"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.

"I don't know man. I just wish-"

He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.

"What do you wish Steve?"

"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"

It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.

He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.

He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.

Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.

He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.

"Thanks man."

And Eddie takes another leap of faith.

"I could be that person, you know."

"What?"

"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."

Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.

"Just for tonight?"

It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.

"Yeah. For tonight Steve."

"I think...I think I'd like that."

Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.

"Alright sweetheart."

Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.

He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.

He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.

"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"Hmmm?"

"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"

And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.

"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"

"The real one."

"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."

Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.

"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"

Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.

"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."

Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.

"That sounds nice."

It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.

*It's only for tonight.*

He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.

But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.

Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.

Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.

But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.

Just for one night.

And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.

[pyrodolls]

superfan! yandere oc x popstar! reader (yandere alphabet)

warnings: a little nsfw, mentions of murder and violence, kidnapping, breaking and entering, stalking, depression, masochistic yandere, kinda worshipper yandere, some mentions of "offing" himself, mentions of death and starvation, established relationship, lowercase intended, not proofread, reader is gender neutral, i do not condone yanderes irl.

a/n: i was gonna do a request but uhhh i felt lazy. i'll make an alphabet for victor next cuz i feel bad for not writing him. plus i'm gonna try to make a masterlist soon so yippee! (also i apologize to all my non-yandere-enjoying followers that like my mortal kombat works, i'll get back to those someday. i just look back on my old works and cringe. i really dislike all my stuff from 2023.)

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

bayani loves you with all his heart. he is often overbearing and obsessive, treating you like you're the only thing that matters. he is always fussing over you and making sure you're okay. he constantly asks you how your day has been, if you've eaten yet, if there's anything he can do for you, etc. he is your little servant. please make him feel useful. please let him help you. his only purpose is to entertain and satisfy you in any way he can. whether you want him to cuddle and kiss you often, or you want him to cook and clean for you, whatever you want. he doesn't have a particular love language. even if he did, he would change it to cater to your taste.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

bayani believes violence is not the answer. he does not want to hurt anyone. but if it's for your safety, or if you order him to hurt or even kill someone, he would reluctantly do it. as much as he denounces violence, he cannot find it in his heart to disobey you. even if it is someone he knows, he'll do it for you. because if you think they should be dead, then you must be correct. bayani believes you can do no wrong, so he must act on your orders.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

bayani would not abduct you. he would never do anything that would hurt your feelings. as much as he gets off on being physically tortured and verbally berated by you, he cannot imagine a world where you dislike him or hate him in any way. he would never kidnap you. besides, even if he wanted to kidnap you, his apartment is too shitty to keep you there, and he wants you to live a life of luxury.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

bayani would absolutely not do anything against your will. he is nothing but your servant, and your fan. he does anything you want him to. he could never go against your will.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

bayani is yours. he has put his whole heart out for you ever since he first saw you. from being your biggest fan, to stalker, to boyfriend. since day one he has been (mostly) open and vulnerable.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

bayani would absolutely be turned on by your rage. kick him, spit on him, etc... the bulge in his pants would just grow harder and harder. however, as much as he enjoys being used as your personal punching bag, he doesn't want you to hate him. if you hated him, he might as well throw himself off a cliff. why should he live if you don't accept him? if he's not enough for you? he dedicated his life to following everything you did as a popstar, to dating you and doing everything you asked him to. so if you ended up hating him after everything he did for you, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

it is not a game to bayani, not one bit. i can't see him kidnapping you at all, but if he did it would probably be for your safety. he would hate to see you so sad and desperate to leave. he'd try to give you whatever food or gifts you ask for, to distract you from trying to escape. it's for your own good, please don't cry and scream at him.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

as much as bayani respects you, he often forgets your boundaries. he would break into your bedroom and watch you sleep, steal your clothes, or watch you while you shower. no matter how many times you try to tell him you're uncomfortable with his behavior and wish to have some alone time, he'd always claim that he would "respect you from now on" but the next day he'd go back to his perverted ways.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

bayani is hoping to get married and live happily ever after with you. he doesn't see himself having kids, he'd prefer to keep all his time and attention on you for the rest of his life. as much as he supports your career and music, a part of him hopes you retire early so you can give him more attention. but if you want to keep up your career for a few more decades, that's okay with him too. whatever makes you happy, makes him happy.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

bayani rarely gets jealous. but when he does, it's concerning. when he sees you hug or compliment a fan, he understands it's not romantic. he doesn't really care about it at all. however, if he sees a fellow popstar being a little too close to you or flirting with you, he immediately worries about himself. what if you leave him? he isn't attractive, or talented, or rich. you could easily leave him for a fellow popstar. bayani wouldn't blame you at all, or the popstar flirting with you. he only ends up looking in the mirror and picking himself apart for hours, wondering why you decided to date him. after that, he ends up being even more clingy than he was. he is basically glued to your hip, and doing everything you ask of him. he compliments you more and tries to make himself seem more energetic and loving. he even looks up ways to make himself more desirable to you, and trying out obscure skin care routines and putting lifts in his shoes. he tries to make himself better for you so you wouldn't leave him.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

bayani's basically a dog at your beck and call. he sits near you with hearts in his eyes, ready to tend to your needs. he usually talks to you nonstop, yapping about something he saw on the internet you might like or a bug he saw on the sidewalk. of course he'd stop if you ask him to, but he's just so nervous around you! even after you start dating and he's no longer just a superfan, his little crush on you never fades away. he covers up his anxieties by talking about anything and everything. if you were to engage in his little yapping sessions, or even laugh at his jokes or agree with his opinions, he'd get extremely flustered and shy. he'd try his best to hide it, but his tomato red face would give it away.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

bayani wouldn't even try to ask you out. he thinks of himself as nothing but a broke, ugly, stalker guy in love with you and your career. he thinks you're way out of his league. you would have to be the one to notice him and strike up a conversation. even then, he'd evaporate the moment you lay your eyes on him. but the more you notice him at your shows and interact with him, you'd become friends and then you'd have to be the one to confess to him.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

bayani's true colors aren't too different from how he acts with others. he's truly a perverted, shy, stalker. his whole life, even in childhood, he was always shy and never really talked to anyone. he didn't have any friends, wasn't in any clubs and didn't go to a church of any sort, so he was always alone. of course, nobody knows he's a perverted stalker, but it's easy to tell he doesn't speak to anyone but you.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

bayani would never punish you. he thinks you can do no wrong. whether you simply lashed out at someone, or committed a crime, he would always be on your side. even if you were to lash out at him, he'd accept it. he would never blame you, only himself.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

bayani would never harm you in any way because of how much he loves and worships you. he'd never take anything away from you.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

bayani would do anything for you, so of course he'd be very patient with you.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

bayani would not be able to live without you. if you left him, he would understand, but be heartbroken. but if you died, he would immediately lock himself in his apartment and refuse to eat or drink anything, and soon succumb to his own death. a life without you is a life he cannot live.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

bayani, again, would not kidnap you. if he did, i can imagine he would feel severely guilty about it. he hates seeing you in pain. if you're in pain, so is he. he would let you go as soon as he knows it's safe for you. hell, he'd want you to be free more than you do.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

like i mentioned before, bayani had a very lonely childhood. his parents weren't present, he had no friends or siblings, so he was left all alone. even when he graduated highschool and was left to live alone with a shitty job, he was still antisocial and had quite a dull life for a few years. that's how he discovered you. he never knew what it was like to love or be loved until he saw you and heard your music for the first time. your performances were a safe place to him. your lyrics were like a warm hug to him. you saved him from his miserable life. he started dedicating his life to you since you were the first person he truly cared about.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

bayani hates to see you in pain. he wishes he could take it all away for you. that's why he's so attentive to your needs, in hopes that he'll never have to see you cry or hear your screams in pain.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

unlike the classic, stereotypical yandere, bayani does not want to inflict harm on anyone unless he has to, and he's a lot clumsier than a usual yandere. he does not want to kill or hurt anyone, but if you really wanted him to, he would. but there's no guarantee that it'll go well, considering how clumsy he is. but he's trying, for you!

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

bayani is a worshipper, through and through. you want to leave him? just tell him. he'd be heartbroken, and probably beg you not to leave him, but ultimately he wants you to be happy. however, if he ever kidnapped you, you could escape by distracting him. you could point somewhere in the distance and go "look over there!" and he'd look for a couple seconds, then look back at you- and aw shucks you already ran away

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

bayani. would. never. even. dream. of. hurting. you.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

bayani would literally commit war crimes for you if you asked him to. there is nothing he wouldn't do for you. he sees you as a hero that saved him, so he believes he should return the favor by doing anything for you. anything to keep you happy.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

after being your biggest fan and stalker for years, bayani is content with staying that way for the rest of his life. of course he would love to be yours, but he would be happy with simply watching you from afar for as long as he shall live. he would never snap.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

depends on your sanity, and how much you like bayani. if you're okay with his clingy, clumsy, yapping self for the rest of your life, then you'll be fine. but if you'd get sick of never having a lot of alone time, or having a guy that is attached to your hip... then maybe you'd break and he would be incredibly guilty. he would try to apologize by being even closer to you, which would make you feel worse. unless you end things with him, you're stuck forever.

template here

[strkie]

is it really you? logan/wolverine x male winter solider variant reader

logan has never really met a winter soldier before, and you’re not entirely what he expects. he’s not complaining, though.

notes. i love both these characters so obviously i had to mash them up - i actually like how this turned out ^_^

details. deadpool and wolverine spoilers, 1,500+ words, he/him pronouns, soft angst, depression mentioned, blood mentioned, winter soldier canon truama.

They meet you in the Void, naturally.

It's not easy to see nor tell what you are at first— you stay clear of them for a few miles after they escape Cassandra, but Logan can smell your dull and metallic scent on the winds and is aware enough of that to keep an eye out, but either Wade doesn't know or doesn't care and keeps distracting him. Logan only knows you're actually a living thing and not just a trick of his mind until he meets the survivors group of hero's that got pruned in Gambit's hideout, seeing you standing in the back shadows like some kind of menacing monster and instantly recognizing your smell. You wear your mask and combat gear, but the most noticeable thing to Logan is your entire left mechanical arm. The metal plates and gears shift together whenever you move, sparking wires when you push your arm a certain direction.

No one really acknowledges you except Laura and Wade, but he only gives you a big gasp and a quip of "the Winter Soldier too?!" before getting caught up in the task of convincing everyone to take down Cassandra. Even so, Logan can't help but stare at you sometimes, acutely aware of your presence and how dead silent you are. You don't talk, you hardly move, but Logan can tell you listen to everything with a vivid sense of attention.

When the hours pass into night, when Laura talks to Logan by that fire pit, he follows her back into the camp after a few long moments and into a separate room overlooking the forest that surrounds the back. It's easy to follow her but he's sure that's just because she knows he is, walking into the room to see you hunched over a table and digging into the machinery of your arm. You clink around with a screwdriver and welder, moving your metal fingers occasionally to see if you fixed anything. When you see Laura though, you pause, letting her grab the screwdriver from your available hand and helping you. You do not flinch when she pokes and prods, so Logan can only assume you don't feel anything or have the pain tolerance near Logan's own, but either way it's an interesting sight to see the two of you huddled together.

Logan shifts his weight on the doorway, rubbing his knuckles distractedly. Your mask is off, letting him see your face clearly, your eyes staring hard but not entirely unkind at him from your spot by the table. You're attractive, in a begrudgingly way to Logan. He's not used to being attracted to someone, no matter if it's a man or not, and it freaks him out a little— so he buries that feeling deep within himself to ignore.

When the fight comes the next day, when everyone is in the middle of their own world and killing, is when Logan actually sees how deadly you are. Your fast, strong, and take the fight on like you have nothing to loose or gain. When the fight ends though, when Cassandra is gone and everyone is crammed into Wades shitty apartment, Logan thinks about you with a heaviness he doesn't expect. You are there too, of course, but for some reason he doesn't know how to interact with you, especially since he hasn't heard you talk once all this time and how you have this brooding demeanor that rivals Logan's own.

But you interact with Laura with hand gestures and sometimes a whisper to the ear, but he never hears and never tries to actually listen since it's not him you are talking to. Still, you cling to Laura's side unless she's in the middle of a bigger group or conversation, and it's only when Logan gives Dogpool to Wade again is when he fishes you out.

You're by the boxed off kitchen, leaning against the wall near the fridge with a red solo cup that Laura obviously is making you drink, just holding it awkwardly in your hand. You have your combat gear still on but there's a red flannel on your shoulders over the rest to hide your arm, not that it really matters in this crowd, but you seem insecure about it. Logan pretends to be there for something else, obviously— getting another round of fruit punch before he acknowledges you.

"So what's up with you?" He tries not to actively be an ass, but it's hard considering you acutely remind him of himself. Your eyes turn to stare at him, and even without your facial mask covering the bottom half of your face you are still stoic and nonchalant. You don't answer him for long enough that Logan almsot shrugs and calls the whole attempt off— but then you answer in a quiet, albeit rough voice.

"I don't know how to socialize." You say it so pitifully that Logan stops all his movements to consider the situation. He nearly wants to groan in frustration because, even though he is trying, he really doesn't want to try sometimes. But you stand there sadly and still and Logan does internally groan this time.

"Well," He says going to stand next to you, though a comfortable distance away. "How do you know Laura?" You don't turn to the side to look directly at him, but he can feel your surprise radiating off of you at his attempt at socializing. Shifting from foot to foot, you answer slowly.

"I was pruned when I didn't kill Howard Stark, so I'm not- I wasn't in a good headspace. Laura found me before Cassandra did and helped me be... human again." You continue to look forward awkwardly, but you do seem more comfortable the more Logan listens to you.

Logan sits with your explanation for a moment, letting himself have the opportunity to think over his next words. It's not everyday someone like you comes into his life, and he doesn't even mean that you're attractive— he means how complex you are, especially with your long past and how you're trying to find yourself again. He can relate, honestly. When he met the X-Men— Charles— for the first time, Logan wasn't anywhere like he is before they died, or even who he is nowadays. He was a shell walking through life with no help, only looking to survive instead of live. So, yeah, he can understand, but actually seeing someone else be like that hurts in a very vulnerable manner.

"Do you have a place to stay?" He blurts out, surprising himself. You don't show much emotion besides what you reply.

"Laura said I could stay with her." You pause for a moment, pondering. "But I'm not sure what I'll do in this world, especially if their Winter Soldier is still... here." You talk slowly, trying to keep up the conversation yet also trying not to be depressing.

"I'm sure Wade wouldn't mind an extra roommate." Logan says, not caring if Wade actually cares or not because either way he's sure Wade can be persuaded by a couple good stabs.

You actually turn to look solely on Logan now, obviously shocked at the prospect, but you don't seem unwilling either. You let it sink in for a moment, and that's when Logan sees you smile for the first time.

It starts like that, although slowly. You eventually do talk to Laura and Wade about the apartment situation— Laura is obviously very pleased with this outcome if her expression is anything to go by, and Wade is actually quite happy too— but you do talk to Al about it too, who says you and Logan eventually do need to make an income if you can live here. You're not surprised nor upset by this— if you're gonna live in this new world you need employment unfortunately, but you also know the TVA set you up with your own documents to help with that.

You sleep on the couch that rolls into a bed and (some awkwardness on his part aside) Logan eventually bunks with you. You're not complaining at all— when you were in HYDRAs hands the situations were very vastly different and worse, so loading up with someone is not uncomfortable for you, especially when this person is not actively trying to kill you. But also because of this, you are used to curling up into tight spaces despite your bigger size and you don't understand why Logan finds that sad at first, so you stick to one side of the couch bed easily. When Logan realizes the reasoning for this, he slowly starts to move into your space each night. You're not complaining with this, either.

When you're not asleep, you've found yourself a bouncer job at the local nightclub down the street, just near enough that you can walk there. With the Super Soldier Serum still in your veins that grant you heightened senses and strength, it's a relatively easy job, though you get home at weird hours. This isn't really a problem since Logan hardly sleeps, Wade is Wade, and Al has a separate room. But if you're not sleeping before work, Laura has taken it upon herself to teach you how to bake and do laundry the "normal" way, which basically means not just stealing someone else's clothes or washing out primarily blood.

But it's... nice. It's domestic and healthy, two things you aren't accustomed to, and it gets even better since Logan always joins too. At first he didn't— he made it very apparent that he knew how to do these things and found no fun in it, especially baking— but then he joined anyway and hasn't left since. Maybe it's for you, maybe it's for Laura or maybe it's for other reasons you don't know, but you're happy he's around. He's never really involved with the process, but he always stays around to quip or talk about whatever Laura talks about, sometimes just asking you about your job.

Since you technically have no name in his dimension, it's easy to blend into life and start new, but honestly Logan is the one that makes you realize that. He's not nice, he's mean and tough, but then he asks about your day or makes sure you're comfortable when there's a crowd or finishes your dinner plate secretly just so Wade doesn't get offended that you didn't have a lot of his food. You don't understand immediately that you love him, and he can say the same. You just do, and he just does, and it's perfect, even when it's not perfect.

Overtime, you gradually heal your inner wounds and Logan does too, if not slowly, but it happens nonetheless. You kiss him one night coming home from work after waking him up by bouncing on the couch bed, making him grumpy then happy when you suddenly kiss his face. It's obviously unexpected, but it's too easy to continue kissing and loving on him, especially when he reciprocates, and that's how you fall asleep: tucked under him as he sleeps nearly on top of you, nose in your neck and smiling. You both sleep in til one in the afternoon, only waking up from the Dogpool climbing over you both.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

I had a panic attack in my kitchen the other day. 

It was a really warm evening, I was making dinner in the kitchen and I noticed I felt a bit weird. At first I didn’t pay it much mind, I was probably just annoyed at having to stand at the hot stove in this weather, but then the thought crossed my mind “What if I falsely believe this is some harmless discomfort and I’m actually having a heart attack?” - and those of you who struggle with health anxiety as well can surely imagine it was all downhill from there. Suddenly I got dizzy and my chest hurt and I felt like I couldn’t breathe… 

And I said to myself “These are all the symptoms of my usual panic attacks, these aren’t new or unusual symptoms that require me to get medical attention right now”, so I turned off the stove and did the first aid I learned works for my panic attacks:

I went to the fridge and got an ice cube and held it in my hand, until that sensory stimulation snapped me back to reality. And when I could think clearly again, I felt safe enough to do a deep breathing exercise and go through my “Why do I feel so shitty” checklist (checking for unmet physical needs I may not be consciously aware of), and I realized I was dressed way too warmly for the weather, so I changed into something lighter - and then I went back to making dinner. My “heart attack” was just me overheating and then my anxiety attaching a wrong interpretation to that. 

That’s a pretty boring story, right? Nothing dramatic happened. But that’s exactly why I share it with you. 

When you’re young and mentally ill (or if you have been freshly diagnosed with it, at any age), a common fear is that it’ll stay. You’ll be like this forever now, you’ll never go back to normal. And so positivity often focus on recovery, on “it’ll go away one day, you just gotta be strong until then”. And maybe it will! Mental illness is a pretty vast umbrella term, some conditions under it can be cured completely. 

But I wanted to share another perspective here: even if it won’t go away, even if it indeed stays forever because it’s a chronic condition or a treatment-resistant one (or because you learn, after years of wondering why your depression and anxiety won’t go away with traditional therapy, that you’re actually autistic and need a completely different approach than a neurotypical patient (hi, it’s me)) .. it won’t feel like it did at the beginning forever, simply because it’s no longer so new. When it’s new, you have no blueprint on how to deal with it. It’s a situation you’re thrown into with no prior training - of course you feel completely lost and hopeless! 

Mental illness is a real illness and as any illness, it’ll affect your daily life - but over all those days, you learn more about it. You try things to cope with the symptoms and realize that some techniques work better for you than others. Even if you can only learn to manage it rather than cure it: you figure out how to deal with it better. You draw your blueprint. 

It’s still part of your life but it’s no longer the showstopper. It becomes just a boring story of stopping dinner to take care of your symptoms first. And that’s something to hope for, to fight for. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 23: Comfort/Crying

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Comfort/Crying (🌼)

Summary: You’ve had a shitty couple of months, trying to hold on for the sake of everyone around you, but you can only take so much…

Warnings: Angst, crying, slight allusions to depression, self-loathing, hurt/comfort, not proof-read

Word Count: 982

A/n: This prompt hits differently now than it would have when I intended to post it, but now it also comes at the right time because I do feel like we have all cried a lot lately. I know I have, and I could use some good old Matty comfort right about now. Like, a hug would be enough.

Read Me On AO3! (coming soon)

You’re tired. 

You’re so tired.

Life has had quite the habit of beating you down lately, and you are so exhausted you just want to disappear. You are expected to function, but how can you when you’re already falling apart?

“Hey,” Matt says softly from the doorway. “You okay?”

You don’t look up from the onions you’re cutting. He just got home from court; the last thing he wants is to listen to you bitch and moan about what a shitty month you’ve had. 

You have to function because there are people who depend on you. If you’re not strong for him, what is the point? In your mind, at least, that makes sense, twisted as it may be—and it is incredibly twisted.

“Yeah,” you lie. “Just… making dinner.”

The vegetable’s gases burn in your eyes. You’re shaking, but that must be all the caffeine you had after yet another sleepless night. Matt is gone so much, during the day as this kindhearted lawyer who fights for the rights of the innocent, and at night as Daredevil, he doesn’t know how you keep tossing and turning when he’s not there. You can’t blame him for having his own shit to deal with; he’s a good boyfriend, and you love him to pieces, but you can’t talk to him. 

You don’t want him to worry because you know he would burn the world down if it meant you could be free of all this pain. He would find a way to exorcize the hell out of the demons in your head, wrap you in cotton, and keep you safe from the storm raging outside. He would let go of everything just to be with you, and you refuse to let yourself be this fucking selfish. Because people depend on him, too. 

But oh, you are truly falling apart at the seams. Too much to feel, too much to think about—it is a painful weight on your chest threatening to crush you. There is no reason behind it, just a myriad of disasters balled into one, and the avalanche is about to take you away. 

Matt reaches out, fingers brushing your shoulder. “You sure?” he asks. 

You swallow the lump in your throat. 

“You’re crying.”

“It’s the onions,” you say. “The, uh, fumes…”

“Okay.” 

He doesn’t have to acknowledge the fact that you’re crying to know something is wrong with you. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you flush against his chest. 

He’s your sanctuary. 

His hand hovers over the one holding the knife.  “Let go,” he says. “Let go…” 

Your fingers loosen around the handle. Matt catches it, wasting no time to place it aside before you can hurt yourself on the sharp edge of its blade. His voice is a mere breath against your heated temple. “That’s it. It’s okay.”

You can barely breathe, your arms flailing around helplessly. Matt doesn’t dare let go of you, afraid you might fall apart if he loosens his hold, so he squeezes his arms around you until you are enveloped in a cocoon of him, and the world outside disappears.

He shushes in your ear. Gentle whispers of, ‘You’re okay. I’ve got you,’ course through your veins like a balm for your weary soul. You’ve been holding on for the sake of the people around you for too long; it rolls over you like a boulder. You can no longer stop it. 

His hands find yours, intertwining your fingers as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Let it out,” he says. 

The tears run down your cheek in an endless flood. It’s ugly, messy, and feels like too much, but Matt doesn’t pull away. He stands there, absorbing every bit of it, trying to work as a sponge to soak up what’s hurting you. He would rather have you take the pain out on him than suffer through any of this alone.

When you finally manage to suck in a deep, shuddering breath, you’re exhausted—wrung out. Wrecked. But there is a sudden emptiness where the crushing weight of the world on your shoulders used to be. 

You finally lift your head, tearful eyes staring back into his. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

He shushes you. “You needed to cry. It’s okay.”

You whimper at the tenderness in his voice. 

“It’s okay to lean on me.” He turns you around to him, pressing your face into his chest. “Just promise me you’ll come to me next time.” A kiss melts against your temple. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

A sharp breath burns the tender flesh of your lungs. “No, I–” you stammer. “I have t–”

He cuts you off, his own voice on the verge of breaking. “You don’t. You’re not alone, sweetheart. Not anymore.”

The dam might be breaking, but he is right there to pick up the pieces before they can get lost in the current with the shards of your broken heart. He patches you up the only way he knows how: with his hands and silent declarations of his undying love. 

And it really is undying, you realize. He loves you when you’re put together, and he loves you when you’re broken. He loves you without a doubt or second thought. He loves you unconditionally, wholly, and he would go to the ends of the earth for you. 

You’re not alone. You might have been once, but not since you met him. Not since he walked into your life and turned it all upside-down. 

You filled each other’s empty hearts like it was the only thing to do.

You don’t have to deal with these demons on your own anymore because Matt will always be there for you, no matter how much you loathe your miserable self. He will always be there to pick up the pieces, and you will never have to be alone again.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @ravenclaw617 @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler

[keeryhours]

how do i live without you? - billy hargrove

Billy Hargrove x female! Reader, some platonic Steve Harrington x Reader

Masterlist

Billy Hargrove Masterlist

Summary:

An accidental pregnancy turns your world upside down, but losing your boyfriend and having to go through it without him? Things couldn’t be worse.

Warnings:

S3 spoilers, angst, Billy’s death, pregnancy, grief, depression, labor and birth

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N:

This is a scenario that I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, and I’m always thinking about Billy and making myself emotional. I really hope you enjoy. Requests open <3

—

The feeling that went through your heart and body when you saw the two lines on that test was something you would never forget.

It was pure fear, panic, shock, sadness, and also awe. You didn’t know what the hell you were going to do, or if Billy was even going to stick around to find out.

The thought of being pregnant and having a baby was terrifying in general, but the thought of doing it alone was even scarier.

You held that secret close to your chest for a week. You wanted to wait for the perfect time to tell Billy, but that time never came. You never stopped being terrified, your stomach was never not in knots when you were around him. He noticed something was up, and he kept trying to get you to tell him, but you’d brush it off.

It became an issue when he wanted you to come with him to a party at Tommy’s house. You didn’t think anything of it at first, agreeing to go without hesitation like any other time. You felt stupid (maybe you could blame it on pregnancy brain already), but it didn’t occur to you until you and Billy pulled up to the party that you would be expected to drink.

When you walked in, Billy brought you straight to the alcohol, filling up two cups before you could say anything over the pounding music. He went to hand you yours with a grin, and you paled, feeling like it was suddenly too hot in the house.

“I’m not drinking tonight,” you said, trying to decline the drink politely and casually but knowing you wouldn’t be so lucky as to not be questioned.

Billy looked at you as if you’d grown two heads. “Uh…you’re not drinking?”

Shit. You absolutely should have thought this through. Who goes to one of these parties to stay sober, anyway?

“She’s not drinking?” Tommy asked, sliding over with Carol under his arm. “Like at all?”

“That’s weird,” Carol giggled, clearly feeling the alcohol she had consumed tonight. “What, are you pregnant or something?”

Your blood ran cold. You actively tried not to react, but the question hit you like a slap to the face. “No, Carol,” you snapped back.

Billy’s eyes never left you throughout the entire interaction. His brows were furrowed, the gears turning in his head.

“I just don’t feel good,” you added, feeling like you were standing on stage with a spotlight on you. “I thought alcohol would make it worse.”

Tommy and Carol weren’t even listening anymore, having moved on to making out in the corner. Billy’s intense gaze was beginning to make you uncomfortable, you felt like he was reading you like a book.

Despite your fears, Billy didn’t bring it up or push the alcohol again. You had a pretty shitty time, because hanging out in a crowded house full of drunk people is probably the least enjoyable sober activity. Billy had two beers before he decided you should leave early. He didn’t look like he was having any fun either, and he knew you weren’t.

In the safety of Billy’s Camaro, you let out a breath. You buckled your seatbelt as Billy climbed into the driver’s seat. He started the car and began to drive back in the direction of your house.

He drove in silence. He didn’t even turn music on, which was not like Billy at all. The tension in the air was so thick you could barely breathe. The only sounds you could hear were the rumbling of the engine and your own shaky breathing.

Billy pulled a cigarette from his pack, sticking it between his lips. He pulled out his lighter and flicked it, bringing the flame to his face and lighting the cigarette. He took a big drag, blowing the smoke mostly out the window. The smell of it nearly made you gag, but you watched his every movement with bated breath anyway.

Finally, he spoke.

“Are you going to tell me what that was really about?” he asked, driving with one hand. He doesn’t look away from the road, doesn’t look at you.

You felt like you were going to really be sick (that had been happening recently), but it was all nerves this time. You debated if there was any chance of talking yourself out of this believably, but then you realize what’s the point, he has to know sometime, somehow.

You let out a long, shaky exhale. Billy’s eyes flicked to you for just a moment at the sound, sensing that there really was something big going on. He had hoped it was some silly explanation. He took another long drag from his cigarette.

“Billy…” you began, looking away from him and down at your hands as your fingers played together nervously. “I, uh…I’m pregnant.”

The words hang in the air like a bomb waiting to explode. Billy doesn’t say anything. You don’t say anything.

Finally Billy sighed deeply, taking another drag and then putting his fingers on the bridge of his nose as if he had a bad headache. “Christ…”

You felt sick to your stomach. You didn’t want him to be mad at you, You didn’t want him to leave.

You didn’t say anything, still trying to gauge his reaction. He didn’t look happy, but you couldn’t really figure what he was thinking. He was never an open book.

Billy pulled up in front of your house. You half expected him to kick you out of the car and never talk to you again, but instead he shut the car off entirely.

“Can I come in? To talk?” he asked, which took you by surprise.

“Yeah,” you said. “My parents are home, though, so you’ll have to come through the window…”

He nodded. He was familiar. “Give me 10 minutes,” he said. He leaned over and kissed you softly on the lips and then you were climbing out, headed up the walkway to your front door as you heard him drive off. He would be going to park around the block to walk over so your parents wouldn’t be suspicious.

You didn’t know what to think. He didn’t seem mad at you, which was a good sign. He even kissed you before you got out of the car like he always does.

Your stomach was in knots as you slipped into the house, saying a quick goodnight to your parents as you headed to your room. You cracked the window for Billy before getting changed into some comfortable pajamas while you waited for him.

Just as promised, you heard your window sliding up about 10 minutes later, and you turned in time to see Billy’s large body awkwardly maneuvering in through the window.

When he was in, he shut the window behind him and let out a sigh, running a hand through his messy blonde curls. He sat down on your bed next to you, neither of you saying anything for a while.

“Well,” Billy finally said. “This is some shit.” He laughed, but nothing was really funny.

You felt bad. You felt like this was all your fault, although you knew logically that wasn’t true.

“And you’re sure?” he asked, rubbing his sweaty palms over the thighs of his jeans.

“Yes,” you said. “Do you want to see the tests?”

He hesitated before nodding. “Not that I don’t believe you,” he added quickly, his voice gruff. “I just…want to see ‘em.”

You opened your bedside table drawer, pulling out the five positive tests you had taken. Billy’s eyes widened as you handed them to him, and he realized this was really happening. There was no mistake.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, looking at those two pink lines.

“Yeah. Fuck,” you agreed.

Billy turned to you then, and he surprised you by smiling at you softly. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against his firm, warm body. You always felt safe there.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he said, which was maybe the last thing you expected him to say.

You looked up at him. “Really? You actually think so?”

“Yeah,” he said, and he looked genuine. “You know I’m serious about you, right?”

You blinked at him. You hadn’t known that, not really. You had hoped he felt the same way about you as you felt about him, but he avoided talking about his feelings so much you were never really sure where you stood.

He looked at you incredulously. “You are. You’re so special to me, you have no idea.”

Your eyes began to water at that, a couple tears falling. “Billy…”

He lifted a hand and wiped your tears away. “Come on, baby girl…” he muttered. “Don’t cry. I hate when you cry.”

He was never this tender. It was making your heart beat about a million times a minute, your head spinning in circles.

“You’re not mad?” you finally asked, voice weak.

“Why would I be mad?” he asked, looking genuinely curious. “It’s not your fault. It was both of us.” He gave you a little smirk when he said that, and it made you blush.

“I just thought you’d be upset,” you said, eyes trailing down to look at your comforter. He placed his hand beneath your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I’m not upset,” he said. “Sure, this is…really not great timing, but we’re gonna be okay, yeah? We have each other.”

You nodded. You felt like you could get through anything with Billy by your side, and now that it was clear he had no plans to run, you felt yourself breathing for the first time in a week.

“I love you, Billy,” you said, and you froze as you realized what you had said. You and Billy had not said that to each other yet, and now you were positive you had really scared him off this time.

But Billy didn’t miss a beat. He leaned in, pressing his lips softly to yours. “I love you, too,” he said, and you couldn’t believe your ears.

He gently placed his hand on your still flat stomach, rubbing his thumb over the material of your shirt.

“And I mean it,” he promised, looking into your eyes with his deep, gorgeous blue ones, more serious than you’d ever seen him. “You won’t do this alone. I’m right here.”

—

Billy began to act strangely in July.

He stopped calling. You stopped seeing him around anywhere. You went to the pool to see him at work, which he usually loved for you to do, but you found him there looking sweaty and sick, his body covered up from the sun. You knew something was seriously off right away.

It turned out Max and El had already figured it out themselves. They had been watching Billy, and discovered the Mind Flayer was back, and he had possessed Billy.

You felt angry. You felt scared. But Will had been able to be saved from the Mind Flayer, so surely Billy could be, too. That’s what you held onto, what you told yourself.

—

It had been a month since the Starcourt incident. A month since Billy sacrificed himself to save all of you, a month since you watched your boyfriend die horrifically right in front of your own eyes. You still had nightmares about it, seeing it over and over again behind your eyelids when you tried to go to sleep at night. When you realized you’ll never fall asleep in Billy’s arms again, never feel him again at all.

You didn’t leave your bed for weeks after his death. Really only getting up for necessities like the bathroom or forcing yourself to eat enough to keep your body going. Steve and Robin came over and begged you to get up and get out of your dark, depressing bedroom. You weren’t ready to face a world without Billy in it. The thought of going outside and seeing the world continuing on like nothing happened made you feel sick. You felt like they didn’t understand - Steve didn’t like Billy anyway. They were never fans of your relationship. The only thing that eventually gets through to you and gets you out of bed is the reminder that you’re still growing a baby, and that baby needed a mother who could function.

You had never lost anyone close to you like that before. Not even touching on the brutal way he died, or the fact that it happened while you stood helplessly watching. You thought of Billy constantly, it was a neverending physical ache in your chest that was so severe your doctor thought you might be having heart problems and sent you to have it checked out.

Nope, just heartbreak. You wondered if the pain alone would kill you, too.

You became close to Max. The two of you may have never been friends before, but you had always liked the kid, and when you and Billy first started dating, she had told you she was glad Billy finally had a real girlfriend and that you were better than any of the other girls Billy had brought around. It made you laugh at the time, and you instantly liked her.

In Billy’s absence, being the only two people you knew who really felt the pain of his death, you leaned on each other. You became a true big sister to Max, and she became a real friend to you. The excitement over being an aunt and having that piece of Billy to carry on was the only real light she held onto in life some days.

One of the biggest surprises in the aftermath of Billy’s death came from Steve Harrington himself.

You and Steve had been friends for ages, only becoming closer in the past year. You knew Steve loved you and would always be there for you, of course, but you didn’t realize how much until one day that August.

You were 15 weeks pregnant, at that point the secret was out to any and everyone. You were already beginning to show, no longer able to hide under baggy t shirts and hoodies. You were tired of the sympathetic looks everyone gave you, oh, she’s a pregnant teenager and the father died in that horrible mall fire! You could see it in everyone’s eyes when they looked at you.

The doorbell ringing jolted you from your busy day of crying in bed. You were surprised to see Steve there, looking like he had something really important to say.

“Can I come in?” he asked, and your thoughts immediately went to the pajamas you were still wearing at 4pm, the mess of a depression den your bedroom had turned into.

But you knew Steve was the last person who would judge you. You let him in, both of you walking to your bedroom. You had to step over various water bottles, cans, and dirty clothes on the way to sit on your bed.

When you sat together, Steve turned to you, grasping your hands in his. He looked at you seriously, and it scared you a little.

“I just…I have something to say,” Steve said, and you searched his eyes for any clue as to what he was about to drop on you.

“I…you might think I’m crazy,” he laughed breathlessly, running a hand through his long hair before he grabbed your hand again. “Listen, I can’t stand the idea of you doing this alone.”

You looked at him, confused. “Doing what…?”

Steve gestured towards your stomach, the still small bump visible there now. “Having a baby.”

You felt like he wasn’t making any sense. “Steve, I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”

Steve sighed, but he didn’t seem annoyed with you. He squeezed your hands, looking you in the eyes. “I’m saying, if you want me to, I want to do this with you. I’ll be like…the dad.” He shook his head, speaking quickly again before you could say anything. “Not the dad, Billy will always be the dad, obviously, I don’t want to erase him or anything. But like the step dad maybe. I want to help you raise the baby.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Were you crazy or did Steve really just offer to step up and be a parent to a child that isn’t even his?

“Steve…” you breathed, tears coming to your eyes as you scanned his face for any sign of hesitancy or insincerity. You found none. He looked at you determined, like he had made up his mind and nothing would change it. “You don’t have to do this. You’d practically be throwing your life away.”

“I wouldn’t be throwing my life away,” Steve scoffed. “I’ve already graduated. I can get a good job with my dad, with insurance and benefits and stuff. I can take care of you. Both of you.”

He really had thought this through. He meant what he was saying. You couldn’t imagine someone ever being this selfless, it was hard for you to wrap your mind around what he was truly offering.

“You don’t have to do this,” you told him again. Your voice was shaking now as you felt the tears threatening to fall.

“I want to,” he said again, his hand moving to rest on your cheek. “You’re like, my best friend in the world. I can’t stand the thought of you stuck doing this alone. Plus, I love kids.” Steve took a deep breath. “And…I feel like I owe it to Billy. I won’t ever forget his sacrifice. He would want you two to be taken care of.”

Those words are the ones that push you over the edge, and you cried, sobs bursting from your chest without warning. Steve was surprised at first, but quickly wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back soothingly. He didn’t say anything, he just let you get it out of your system. You had been so fragile since Billy died, he knew this conversation would bring up some big emotions.

You felt safe in Steve’s arms. You were surprised at how much comfort they brought you, and you thought maybe you would have been better off with your friends after all than rotting in your bed, burritoed in your blankets. You just hadn’t been able to stand the idea of bringing everyone down when you were stuck so deep in your personal pit of despair.

When your cries finally calmed, you pulled away from Steve’s chest, looking at him with puffy red eyes. “I feel like I can’t ask you to do this.”

“You’re not asking me, I’m offering,” Steve answered quickly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I know I can’t force you to believe me, but I want this.”

You felt the tears threatening to fall again, but you pushed the feeling back as far as you could. “Okay,” you finally croaked out. “But you can change your mind at any time, okay?”

Steve smiled at you. “Not gonna happen.”

And Steve kept to his word. He didn’t leave your side the entire pregnancy. He drove you to every appointment, sitting next to you and holding your hand when you needed him. The nurses would refer to him as “dad” and he wouldn’t correct them unless you did. He liked the sound of that, deep down. Yeah, he knew this baby wasn’t his, but he would love them like they were.

The first time Steve got to see the baby and hear the heartbeat, his eyes shone with love, his own heart nearly beating out of his chest. The fast, rhythmic whoosh whoosh whoosh of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room. You looked up at Steve teary eyed, and he looked back down at you like he had never been more proud of someone in his life.

It warmed your heart that even though Billy couldn’t be here, which is a pain that would never go away, the baby had a found family that was larger and stronger than you ever could have hoped your support system would be. The whole friend group was so invested in the pregnancy - it had nearly become the friend group’s baby by this point.

The 20 week anatomy scan was a monumental day, because you’d finally be finding out the gender of the baby. There were only supposed to be 2 people allowed back in the room at a time, but somehow your friends were able to talk their way in.

It was like a party in the exam room when the tech came in, wide eyed and taking in the excited group. You laid on the table with Steve in his normal spot next to you. Then there was also Max, Robin, Nancy, Dustin, Lucas, Will, Mike, and El, all crowded into the room with you.

The tech looked a little nervous as she got started, not used to having quite an audience. When the scan started, everyone leaned in, fighting each other for the best glance at the screen. They all began taking bets on whether it would be a boy or a girl.

“Do you want to know the gender?” the tech asked, and the whole room practically yelled a chorus of Yes!

The tech couldn’t help but smile, despite the chaos of this appointment. It was sweet to see an unborn baby already so loved by so many.

“It’s a girl,” the tech announced, and the room erupted into cheers. There were some “I told you so!”s and some money exchanging hands.

The chaos of the room around you fell away as you turned and looked right at Steve. He was already looking at you, tears brimming in his eyes to match yours.

“A baby girl…” he muttered, lightly brushing his hand across your cheek. “A daughter.”

You smiled, and your heart felt like it was swelling out of your chest. You felt so happy. Then you remembered Billy, how he’d never know and never see his daughter, and that familiar, comfortable ache settled over your bones again.

The group took you out to eat after the appointment, you all laughing, throwing out baby girl names, and talking about plans for her future. It meant the world to you how genuinely excited all of your friends were.

By the 7th month of pregnancy, Steve might as well have moved into your house, because he was there all the time. There was still nothing romantic between you, but he slept in your bed, and you loved the way he would hold you at night, his back pressed against you and hand splayed out over your pregnant belly protectively. It was innocent, but it made you feel less alone. You had spent many nights after Billy’s death jolting awake at night from nightmares, feeling like you were free falling through the emptiness.

By month 8, Steve surprised you with a small but cozy two bedroom apartment for the three of you. You had no idea he had even been making plans to move out with you, the gesture catching you completely off guard. Already an emotional mess from the pregnancy and your never ending grief, you had cried, which made Steve panic and think he did something wrong. But really, you couldn’t believe how sweet he was, how much he loved you and the baby already.

Steve, Robin, Nancy, Max, and Dustin helped you set up the nursery. You made a day out of it. There was a lot of sweating and arguing setting up the crib and dresser, mostly between Steve and Dustin, but it all came together. You were shooed out of the room as they opened the windows and painted the walls a pale pink before moving the furniture to their spots.

You nested over the next couple of weeks, and the nursery really started to come together. There was a rocking chair in the corner next to her bookshelf already stocked with baby books. There was shelving attached to the walls, filled with stuffed animals, a framed ultrasound photo, a framed picture of you and Billy.

You even had a wall hanging made with her name to put on the wall, but you kept that hidden in the closet for now, wanting her name to be a surprise for everyone.

Baby Girl was all set now, really, the only thing left was for her to make her arrival.

You had been in your pajamas, watching a movie with Steve one night when you were 38 weeks pregnant. You didn’t make it out of your pajamas very often anymore. You felt like a house at this point, you couldn’t even stand without Steve’s help. You dealt with a lot of back pain in your third trimester, your doctor said the baby was most likely laying on a nerve. Little brat. Thankfully Steve was always there, ready to help however he could, unless he was at work.

You rubbed a hand over your large belly, feeling your baby girl moving beneath your palm. You thought of Billy again, as you always did. You wondered if he could see you somehow, if he knew that you and his baby were okay, that she was about to be here and how you’d never missed him quite as badly as you have lately. Steve was great, but you would have given anything to be going through this with Billy like you were supposed to.

“Can you help me up? I have to go to the bathroom,” you asked Steve with a sigh, hating feeling so helpless. You didn’t like relying on people to this degree, not at all. You had pretty much been assigned an around the clock babysitter over the past few weeks. Someone from the friend group was always here if Steve wasn’t, and you suspected he did that on purpose.

“Of course,” Steve said, standing without hesitation. He held out his hand for you and pulled you to your feet. You made it up with great effort, but at least you were finally up.

Steve sat back down in the recliner as you started moving your aching body towards the small bathroom down the hall. As you were almost halfway there, you felt it - a huge gush, and you froze in place.

“Uh- um, Steve??” you said, panic in your voice.

“What?” Steve asked, his head snapping in your direction. “Are you- did you just pee yourself?”

You glared at him. “My water just broke.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, and he was frozen for a minute. Then he jumped out of his seat, looking frantic like he’d lost his mind and didn’t know where to go first.

“Oh shit oh shit oh shit-“

As Steve freaked out, the contractions kicked in for you. You placed a hand on your stomach as you doubled over in pain and cried out, feeling like you were experiencing the worst period cramps of your life.

When Steve noticed, he panicked even harder. “Oh god-“

Steve slapped himself in the face. He had to pull himself together. This is what you had both been preparing for for months, and now it was happening, and he could do this.

He sprinted into the bedroom, grabbing the overnight bags you had already packed. There was a big one for you, a smaller one filled with Steve’s things, and one for the baby.

When Steve ran back out into the living room, he found you holding onto the back of the couch for dear life, breathing through a contraction just like the two of you had practiced in the birthing classes.

“Good, good, you’re doing amazing sweetheart,” Steve said, running a hand through his messy hair. “You think you can get downstairs and into the car with me?”

You held up a finger, telling him to wait as you rode out the last of this contraction. When the pain faded, you let out a long exhale. “Yes. Let’s just go before another one comes on.”

Steve carried all three bags in one arm as he put his other one around you, helping you out of the apartment and down the stairs. Another contraction hit halfway down the stairs, and Steve had to stand there with you, making sure you didn’t collapse and go toppling down the damn stairs. They were coming fast now, you both noticed, and that made him feel like he was going to panic again, but he pushed the feeling down deep. He breathed along with you, coaching you as he had learned in class. He had paid attention. At least he felt like he could be somewhat helpful.

When it was over, he got you the rest of the way down the stairs, helping you into the car and buckling you in himself. He tossed the bags in the back and then he was sprinting to the driver’s side.

Steve drove to the hospital fast, speeding up a little every time you had another contraction. He was terrified of the baby being born in his car, him delivering her himself. He shuddered at the thought.

Steve parked as close to the emergency room entrance as he could get, running inside like a madman to grab a wheelchair and wheel it out to you. He got you settled into it, grabbing all your bags and pushing you inside quickly, but a little less insane this time since he didn’t want to throw you out of the chair.

You received a cervical check in the ER, and it was determined you were already 7cm dilated. Things were moving extremely fast. Your head was spinning, and Steve looked like he might pass out.

They got you up and into a delivery room immediately. You were offered the epidural, but you said no, you wanted to see if you could make it without it - this is a decision you would regret soon.

At some point, the pain went from intense to unbearable. You screamed out, tears streaming down your cheeks, as the contractions got more and more intense until you felt like your body was literally splitting in half.

“I want the epidural,” you begged, and the nurses looked at each other. You didn’t like that look.

“We’ll have to do another cervical check first,” one of them said gently, and you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach.

The check was performed, and the nurse announced you were already 10cm. It was too late. It was time to push.

You cried like a baby as the delivery room turned into chaos, nurses bustling around, bright lights turning on, the doctor coming in dressed in scrubs, all preparing the room for the birth. It was actually time. Steve never took his eyes off you, brushing your sweaty hair off your forehead.

“I can’t do this,” you cried to him, desperate for someone to give you that goddamn epidural. “It hurts too bad.”

Steve looked at you sympathetically. He wanted to take every bit of your pain away, and he felt powerless that there wasn’t a thing he could do. “You’re doing amazing, sweetheart,” he said, offering you some water. You gratefully drank through the straw, the cool water easing your dry mouth. “You’re almost done. If you came this far, you can finish it.”

His words did bring you a little comfort, although all you really wanted to hear was Yes, here’s the epidural you ordered! You won’t feel any more pain at all!

But of course that was not your reality. The nurse lifted your right leg, and they offered to let Steve hold the other. He looked between you and the nurse awkwardly, looking like he wanted to ask if it was okay, before he wrapped his hands around your leg, holding it back just like the nurse was.

You had never felt so exposed in your life.

“Don’t look down there during all this,” You warned Steve, your expression serious. “You’ll never look at me the same.”

Steve laughed, but he didn’t take your words lightly. He did not look.

The doctor was between your legs now, and if you weren’t in so much pain you probably would have felt embarrassed.

The doctor told you to push with every contraction. The first one came on, and you pushed, screaming loudly, a primal scream ripped straight from your soul. Steve winced, letting you squeeze his hand as hard as you needed to. He didn’t care if you broke every bone in his hand, as long as it helped you in some way, as long as he can help you feel better.

You continued to push at the appropriate times, each time feeling like your body was tearing apart. You had never experienced such pain in your life, women weren’t lying when they said this shit is the worst.

“I can see her head, you’re almost there,” the doctor encouraged, and you felt relieved that the end was in sight, but at the same time the pain was only getting worse.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you cried, looking at Steve like there was anything he could do to help you. He felt helpless, and that was the worst thing when all he wanted was to take all your pain away. That’s all he had ever wanted.

“You can,” he told you, padding your forehead with a cold wash cloth. “You’ve come so far. You are almost done. She’s almost here.”

At Steve’s words, you took a deep breath. He was right. You were almost done, and there was no turning back now anyway.

You pushed hard during the next contraction, the doctor encouraging you.

“The head is out,” he announced, “The worst part is over. Just one more good push.”

You had never been relieved to hear something more in your life. You pushed hard for your last push, and you knew she was out. You tried to look down, and then you heard the most beautiful sound. A cry.

The doctor held up a tiny little thing, pale and covered in blood, crying loudly. Your eyes went wide, but you were too exhausted to sit up. The nurses wiped off the baby, and then they were placing her on your chest, this tiny little warm wiggling thing.

You wrapped your arms around her, cuddling her close to your chest, wrapping your hospital gown around her for warmth. A nurse placed a baby blanket over her as well. She settled against your skin like it was where she had always belonged.

She had a head full of blonde or maybe light brown hair. She opened her eyes and looked up at you with bright blue eyes - Billy’s eyes. God, she was his twin. Your heart clenched at the sight, and you felt tears beginning to fall.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the feeling of Steve’s arm wrapping around your shoulder, his other hand coming to rest on the baby’s back.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured, and you could see the tears falling down his cheeks. “Absolutely perfect.” He smiled softly, running a hand over her soft baby hair.

You wished Billy was here to see her. You wished for that more than anything.

“Little Molly,” you hummed, taking in her perfect features, her soft skin, her tiny fingers and toes. Molly Louise Hargrove.

You could have held her all day, but finally you passed her to Steve, giving him a turn. Steve took her like she was made of porcelain, holding her so tenderly like he was terrified she’d break at the slightest wrong move. He rocked her gently, looking at her with pure love and adoration. He looked like a new dad.

When Steve called your friends the next morning to let them know the baby had arrived, he got hung up on. He looked at the phone, confused, attempting to dial back with no answer.

20 minutes later and your entire friend group was busting through the hospital room door. You laughed, shushing your loud friends as you gestured to the sleeping newborn in your arms.

Surprisingly, they all quieted down, but then they joined together in a soft chorus of Awww! as they leaned over, trying to get a better look at her. You finally announced the name, and everyone loved it.

You motioned for Max to climb onto the bed with you, and she did, careful not to jostle your sore body. She learned over, trying to get a good look at the bundle of blankets in your arms.

“Do you want to hold her?” you asked softly. You had wanted her to be the first.

She looked at you wide eyed, her blue eyes full of emotion. “R-really?”

“Of course. You’re Auntie Max,” you answered her with a gentle smile and she smiled back. She held her arms out, and you carefully laid Molly in them. “Just be careful to support her head,” you added, but the girl was a natural.

Max looked down at her niece, her eyes wide. Tears brimmed at her waterline, and she looked like she had about a million thoughts going through her head at once.

“She looks like Billy,” is what Max finally said, a huff of breathless laughter coming from her lips as tears began to fall. The sight of the younger girl crying made you cry too, it didn’t even matter that you had a whole audience. You felt Steve’s hand rubbing your back.

Every member of the friend group held Molly, even the ones who originally said they didn’t want to (Mike and Will). Molly seemed to adore Robin especially.

Your friends visited until they were kicked out, visiting hours over for the day. Only Steve was allowed to stay, since he was sleeping there.

That night, you smiled softly to yourself as you watched Steve in the dark of the room. You were supposed to be asleep, but were having a hard time. You watched Steve, who definitely thought you were still asleep, as he paced around the dark room, gently bouncing Molly in his arms.

“You are really the cutest ever, you know,” he muttered lowly to her, like they were having a conversation. “And I love you so much. Did you know that? I may not be your daddy, but I couldn’t love you any more even if I was.”

Your heart felt full as you watched them. Molly was awake, but not a single cry came from her. She was content to be gently walked and bounced and staring up at Steve’s face. She knew his voice. He had talked to her through your belly the whole pregnancy.

“We’re gonna have so much fun. We’re gonna be the best family.” He gently patted her back as he walked with the bundle in his arms. “And I’ll tell you all about your daddy. Billy. He was a hero, you know.”

You wiped away the tears that fell with the back of your hand. You still couldn’t handle a mention of Billy without crying. But your little girl was so loved, which meant everything to you, and you knew Billy would be happy to know she was loved and taken care of, too.

The day you went home from the hospital, you and Steve bickered over how the infant car seat worked. You snatched the instructions back and forth, both desperately trying to figure out how the contraption worked. Finally Molly was settled in her seat, safely and cozily strapped in, and it really wasn’t that hard to begin with.

A nurse pushed you to the hospital entrance while Steve walked ahead, carrying the baby carrier. You could see Molly peacefully snoozing in her seat as he walked.

Steve got the car seat settled into the back of the car, and then he was helping you into the passenger seat, mindful of how sore you still were. You felt like a stranger in your own body, but you knew all this weirdness would pass.

Getting home was surreal. Entering the apartment as a family of three finally. Steve carried the car seat around the whole apartment, giving Molly the grand tour. It wasn’t much to see, but it was home.

Your eyes caught sight of the framed photo of you and Billy sitting on the living room table. You thought about how things would be different if he were here. You imagined Billy holding Molly, meeting her for the first time, getting to be her dad. You had to shake the thoughts away before they consumed you again.

You knew you would miss Billy for the rest of your life. Especially seeing Molly every day, you were sure she would only look more like Billy as she grew up. But you had built a family here. Even with all the tragedy, you had your baby girl, and you had Steve. You were grateful for the love that surrounded you, even when all you could see was darkness.

[therealslimshakespeare]

Hi! I’m an environmental eng girly myself so I’m sort of very interested in this (and also a new reader so please bear with me if I’m lacking on some knowledge here). The 1950s were just generally a very interesting time for women in stem/ engineering but obviously not great for equality still. For example, since you mentioned that Lu is from Texas, in the 1950s there were roughly 700 engineers working with the Highway Dpt of Texas and only THREE were women. So I’m curious, how does Lu handle/ cope with being in a field that would have her be surrounded entirely by men? She would very likely be the only women in most of her classes and professional endeavours. And I know you mentioned that when she works on that Twisters inspired Tornado project with those military boys, all of them love and adore her which I LOVE! Because she’s so smart and such a genius so it makes my heart really happy to see that that allows her to command respect 🥰 But in college, how does she manage being in a space with all these guys who might not all respect her (god like uni eng guys are a special brand of asshole, I’m not saying all of them but some…). Because I’m being so real- that is still an issue in engineering and still something that my girl friends and I have experienced/ felt 😅 And then also with environmental engineering specifically a lot of the work is sort of… rural and isolated. Like you won’t be working in a big crowded space a lot of the time. And being with all those guys, (also like… again, college guys are just a special brand of asshole? I feel like every girl would be out of her comfort zone if she were to be around only them, even now) is that something that induces anxiety for her? Does she ever worry that “putting herself in that position” is inviting anything similar to the horrific violence she’s already gone through? And then on the fluffier side, HOW does she persevere?! Because again we know she wasn’t doing well? I get the vibes from the asks that she was genuinely very depressed and not at all in a good place. So I’m just so intrigued by this era of hers. Anyways this is sooo long and convoluted feel free to ignore it haha. It’s just something that is so interesting to me I love this woman in stem so much 🥰 But yeah I’m interested in her college days and how she handles her horrible mental health, a very very shitty boyfriend and THIS on top of it all.

Oh and to add, we know that Ida worries for her often (along with the rest of the trinity), is she ever concerned about Lu being in those sorts of situations? Because Ida has so much complex trauma of her own (remember in Hardwoods how she has that thought that being alone with men is courting violence!!!!!!!!!!!) and she had to SEE Lu being assaulted? Just wondering because I love these two. And the rest of the trinity I guess. I know my parents would be🤧

Aaaaah see now you’re educating me about the Texan engineering!!! Omg that’s so cool. I knew it had to be slim pickings but goodness, three? Yeah, wow, ok then Lu, ya got your work cut out for you. Also, Nonnie, you’re so cool, I feel special for you gracing my inbox 🥰

Oh yes, just from acquaintance I am somewhat familiar with the engineer bro vibe, ha. Having come from the army has to help her a little. So far in the story we’ve focused on all the boys who love and take care of the girls as integrated into themselves, but you know there were the assholes in the 100th about it and you KNOW there were absolute pigs in the stalag, too. So it’s not a fully new issue. But, somehow this is even more secluded, likely? So, it’s intense.

I think she’s already very withdrawn during this era so she’s not trying to make friends with them all, if they’re assholes she does her best to keep her head down and then enjoys smoking them at tests or in the field. If they wanna play a practical joke to sabotage her?!- oh well, they shouldn’t have picked on Bucky Egan’s daughter. But omg, for all these women there’s the question of if they’re inviting that violence again by pursuing these careers and that’s so horrible to even be considered but it’s so real!!! My girl has her brass knuckles though, the (pretty worthless social friends from Spencer’s crowd) and a will of iron. This is the field she wants to work in, she always did and she happened to go to kindergarten in war for it but by god she’s gonna keep at it through college.

Also. Not wanting to fail. I think depressed and miserable as she might’ve been, failing (she’s so like Gale lemme go scream) would be worse than anything that could happen to her while she was trying. She’s so dogged about it, and this is something of her own, it’s not her crew and it’s not her squadron, it’s her. She’s doing this, and she might as well not get up again if she fails, I think is her attitude…when she’s so down, ya know?

Ida…for a long time Ida lives in a world where everyone could potentially be awful. She can’t contextualize it well. It takes a massive toll on her mental and bodily health, that constant alertness and suspicion and stress. Being in Germany likely only exacerbates that, tbh. Nice thought Rosie but, she’s having some severe ptsd just living amongst the language every day. 😭

[theoldsports]

Moody.

Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 3.3k words

depression, arguing, manipulation/toxic marriage, fucking each other over, possessiveness. it’s tamer than some of my others in an objective sense, but emphasizes dark thoughts and internal monologue.

requests always open! thanks for your kindnesses. i think this one is more experimental than the others. the objective here was to show how both of them mimic regular human feelings because they know they should, but it’s a poor pantomime. two sickos with nothing else but each other <3 i think i am going to call these works the Truculent series.

Coriolanus grew cold fast and did not tolerate heat well. He only slept only in his underclothes and wore heavy layers at the first sight of winter. His alarmingly fair complexion meant excessive sun wasn’t in the cards. In spite of his name, his scrappy build wasn’t meant to cut through harsh January terrain either. His nails chipped at labor, and his mind grew uneasy at laziness.

The world was tough on Coriolanus and he was tough right back on the word.

There was little Coriolanus was designed to do. Many people were strong, or smart, or wealthy, or drop-dead-gorgeous, or violent, or talented. There was something about every person Coriolanus could think of that made them stand out. He could easily categorized people by them. Here was the group of people known for their beautiful voices; here, those who could benchpress four-hundred pounds… Coriolanus could not be quantified like that.

Coriolanus Snow had to take what was left, like a runt. He was only good at two things: enduring and controlling. Since those were the only options leftover for him, Coriolanus became the best at them both. When, like Coriolanus, one has been gifted such shitty talents and nothing else, they have to figure out how to use them well enough to win against everyone with a better gift. Eventually, he realized his talents were not the ability to endure and the ability to control, but actually the ability to win. Eventually, he won so much, Coriolanus forgot there was ever a time when he lost (most days).

(The days he didn’t forget were the Bad Days).

Coriolanus felt like he couldn’t get out of bed on the Bad Days when the crushing weight of his failures and his ego landed across his chest. He told himself he was done with love after Lucy Gray. Disgusting Lucy Gray, a name he never wanted to even think again. He thought he would marry someone he hated and be done with love.

But junkies and addicts quit every Monday anyway.

Once he found [Y/N] again after their childhood together, there was no quitting. He knew it was bad for him, so he married what was bad for him to make sure he had an endless supply. How he hated that familiar feeling of obsession, the feeling of being so desperate that he had to rely on something other than himself. Somehow, he would have to sustain the feeling without losing his girl like an idiot. Marriage was likely the thing to steel their attempt at a bond.

Upon waking up to the alarm that morning, Coriolanus knew this was one of those Bad Days. Maybe it was the weather, the stress of Games. First year as head Gamemaker had almost driven Coriolanus mad under the pressure to succeed. He reached over to turn off the clock that buzzed painfully at six in the morning every day ending with a Y.

“Coryo…” [Y/N] mumbled, hearing him stir beside her. The sound must have woken her. She tossed an arm over his chest.

“‘Mornin’, Darling,” Coriolanus replied, wishing he were dead.

[Y/N] immediately picked up on the flatness of his tone, but she knew better than to push him too far. “All good?” She asked.

Coriolanus grumbled passively. He rarely did anything passively. Coriolanus grabbed the hand over his chest and dragged it up to the side of his face to rest it there, but only after he had kissed [Y/N] palm.

“You’re affectionate this morning.”

“I just missed you. I’ve been busy.” He said dismissively, pressing his face further into her hand.

“Well, thanks, dear, but don’t you have work?” [Y/N] asked. She propped her chin up on his shoulder to stare at him inquisitively. This attitude was odd. First thing in the morning during Games seasons, she got a kiss on the forehead and then Coriolanus was gone for a run and a shower and out til nightfall, barring special occasions.

“Don’t you?”

“Not til early evening today. Normally, you’re up and out of here first thing on a Tuesday morning,” [Y/N] told him, as she rubbed from his cheek to the side of his throat gently. She dragged her hand up his face to rest on his worried forehead. “You sick, or something?”

“No.” Coriolanus replied weakly. He closed his eyes again. He couldn’t face the legendary blunder he had made at work. Coriolanus had allowed his aides to code the program for the arena wrong. The open water was nowhere near as deep as was needed for the aquatic muttations. It was causing all sorts of trouble. The Games would end too fast if he didn’t do something, yet the stress of thinking of reaching across the nightstand for his Communicuff was paralyzing.

“You sure? You don’t feel feverish,” She confirmed. [Y/N] sat up to press her lips to his forehead just in case her cold hands had misread his temperature. “I can call the doctor, though.”

“[Y/N], stop. I’m fine.” Coriolanus lied harshly. He tried to sit up, but his psychological anguish made him feel like vomiting.

“Call in. Stay here.” She suggested, watching his weak movement to sit up.

“I’m head Gamemaker, I don’t get to call in. I need to go for a run’n I’ll be fine.”

[Y/N] raised an eyebrow. “So you aren’t currently fine? Because you said—“

“I know what the fuck I said, okay?” Coriolanus barked. “Wanna recap anything else, or can I go?”

Sharply, [Y/N] scooted away from him to the other side of the bed. His moods were hardly predictable. She sighed. “Fine,” She said, averting her eyes to her hands like a scolded girl. “I was merely concerned that you—“

Coriolanus scoffed at her and shakily stood up from the bed. He quickly stepped into the closet and stepped joggers and a wifebeater. [Y/N] hoped he would grab a jacket as well; the weather was much too cold for mid summer. The Capitol itself got disproportionately cold often. She didn’t say anything out loud, though. “Get off my ass. Can’t you sit there and be grateful for once? With all that I do for you?Fucking hell.” Coriolanus said. He did not so much as look back at her as he stormed out of the bedroom.

[Y/N] could not understand what she had done wrong. The only things she had were provided through Coriolanus or simply the man himself. Once Coriolanus was presumed out of earshot, [Y/N] dropped her head into her hands and cried. Not tears of frustration or anger, but tears of self-pity that her one lifeline had yelled at her like that.

—

By the time Coriolanus returned from his run, it appeared his wife had gone out for the day. Strange since she usually capitalized on the extra sleep if she was not working downtown with Capitol News until evening shift. Since their reckless young adulthood of media stunts, Coriolanus had watched [Y/N] grow a stifling love for spectacle. With his support and their shared deranged name recognition, she had quickly risen from an editor, to a correspondent (brief. He had helped her but her way up and out of that position) to Associate Head of Programming for Capitol News. It helped to have his wife steer both their media narratives from the inside.

Except for when she was mad at him.

Coriolanus wiped the sweat off his brow in the shower as he thought. There was no doubt in his mind that [Y/N] was going to run some sort of primetime bulletin that made him look a fool during his Games coverage that night. It was bad enough that Lucky Flickerman was beginning to look like botox had gotten better of him, in addition to Coriolanus’ own fuck up with the muttations. Fact of the matter was that viewership was down and [Y/N] was going to make it worse. She was going to make his Bad Day worse and he knew it.

He could feel his heart rate racing as he stood under the shower’s cold stream. His equally cold blue eyes glanced across the bathroom at the clock. Six-fifty AM. Realistically, he need to be into the Gameroom by no later than eight-thirty, but it frustrated him to be in later than eight. In roughly an hour, how could he perform the maximum amount of damage control? Coriolanus’ head began to ache at the thought.

She had never run that harsh of a piece on him before, but it was a Bad Day, and no doubt she was angry with him for his attitude. [Y/N] was capable of a great many horrible things. Wouldn’t Coriolanus himself want to sting somebody back who he had known was pissy with him?

When he exited the shower, Coriolanus rushed to dress himself. [Y/N] said she wasn’t working until late. But where, then, had she gone? With all the thinking about his own feelings, he hadn’t considered that conundrum.

—

Coriolanus called her secretary, a boring woman with a name neither man nor wife could recall. According to that woman, [Y/N] had not gone early to work. He rang Tigris. Tigris said [Y/N] had not been over unless she was lying which Coriolanus wouldn’t put past her. The Plinths swear they had not encountered her.

Coriolanus stared down at his datapad of phone numbers. He refrained from calling all of their friends because he didn’t want to to exude the panic he was starting to feel for letting his wife run away. None of her belongings seemed out of place. Her suitcase was present in the back of their closet. Still, Coriolanus was terrified in the back of his mind that his wife had finally left him. A year and half was a dreadful lifespan for a marriage in his opinion. [Y/N] was not getting away that easily.

However, his watch told him it was eight and the Games weren’t going to run themselves.

Throughout the day, Coriolanus could not get his heart rate to settle. It made him feel ill. So ill, in fact, that he couldn’t keep down most of breakfast, or all of lunch. He skipped dinner all together. Who was [Y/N] to up and leave him like that?

The slight rational segment of his brain told him to walk it back, but the rest of his brain paid no mind. Coriolanus had nothing going for him other than gut instincts and his gut instincts now were implying something was fundamentally wrong.

Coriolanus’ decision-making was way off of its game at work. Coriolanus, for ratings, could not allow the Hunger Games to end on a Tuesday night. Somehow, he would have to create obstacles to last the four remaining tributes til Friday. He didn’t much like those odds. He was going to cave and hand in his resignation before the end of the day, he was certain.

Though, at eight in the evening, the primetime announcement or chiron that Coriolanus was a shitty husband or a murderer never cut through his broadcast to make his Day irreparably Bad. Nor did it at eight-thirty, or even nine. Coriolanus felt shaky. Maybe with relief for his reputation, maybe because he had nothing in his system.

If nothing had aired at Coriolanus’ expense on TV, had something happened to [Y/N] while he was on his run, or later? Was this some rebel attempt to bring the head Gamemaker to his knees? An attempt from a bitter rival to play games with him? Coriolanus frowned. Many things could have happened to his wife between six in the morning and nine at night. Coriolanus could barely stand up as it was. He clocked out and summoned his driver as quick as he could.

The second Coriolanus’ key entered the lock, he started shouting with the energy he had left. The door had yet to even close behind him. “[Y/N]! [Y/N], my love! Are you here?” Coriolanus pushed open every cabinet and closet on his way to the bedroom. Empty. He checked the closet - her suitcase remained. Coriolanus had called her office on his way home. She had not shown up for work. Unheard of.

Coriolanus ran through every room of the townhouse shouting [Y/N]’s name over and over until he felt hoarse. He could only imagine what the neighbors thought. Then he saw the attic door open.

The door remained open, but the stairs to the attic had snapped back up halfway and gotten jammed. “Coryo!” He heard [Y/N] yell faintly from upstairs.

“Darling, are you… in the attic?” Coriolanus shouted back cautiously under the open door. He watched as [Y/N]’s tearstained face peered around the edges of the attic door. It was really her. Not a Jabberjay, not a setup. Coriolanus exhaled for what felt like the first time all day. “Let me come up. I’ll come to you. Hold on!” Coriolanus’ finally left behind the Bad Day as he leapt into action. Protecting his wife was his job before Gamemaker, or any other obligation. Anyone in the Capitol would remember their vows, or her smashing cake into his face much to his dismay. Marriage was socially his most binding contract of all. Coriolanus did not take contractional obligations lightly.

Coriolanus had not realized that his wife was so delicate and helpless as to get stuck in the attic. She needed him more than he thought. His heart swelled with pride. Coriolanus grabbed a broomstick and hooked the hinge in the stairs. He yanked with all his strength until the ladder descended. Quickly, he dropped a large sack of rice from the kitchen counter over the bottom step in hopes it would weight the stairs down and he took off up them.

“[Y/N], are you alright?” Coriolanus asked, popping his head through the attic door

There on the unfinished attic floor sat [Y/N], bundled up in her thin teddy she had been wearing when Coriolanus left. She had only that and a too-short blanket Tigris had crocheted as a child. There was very little in the attic at all. Some of the Grandma’am’s belongings in clear glass bins and whatever surviving relics had carried on from their post-war childhoods.

It was clear [Y/N] had been crying. “I thought you would come back.” She sniffled.

Coriolanus urgently climbed the rest of the way up the ladder and sat carefully down beside [Y/N], wrapping her in his long arms possessively. “I thought something happened to you,” Also, that you tried to leave me. “You’re freezing… How long have you been up here?”

“Since you went on your run.”

“Shit… All that time?”

[Y/N] thought her tears had long since stopped, but seeing Coriolanus appear upset about ignoring her all day made her want his attention more. She wanted him to feel bad.

The tears started flowing the second his arms were looped around her waist. [Y/N] rested her head on Coriolanus’s shoulder heavily. “Coryo, you just left. I come up here all the time to think and I didn’t think it would—“

The blonde man’s heart softened at the sight of her. “Darling, Darling, shh, don’t cry,” Coriolanus combed his hand through sobbing [Y/N]’s hair. “You’re okay. I’m here now.”

Coriolanus felt like he was able to play the role of comforter and protector nobly tonight in a way he had recently felt inadequate at. With ease, he draped her legs across his lap and adjusted her arms around his neck so that her body was completely supported by his. She clung to him like a desperate child. The skin-to-skin contact was most appreciated by Coriolanus after the Day he’d had. Coriolanus excitedly drew a breathe from her neck, taking in her scent.

[Y/N] sobbed dramatically into Coriolanus’ dress shirt, but he pretended not to care like a good husband. “I’m sorry. I c-couldn’t—couldn’t get down. I th-thought you would come get me. I shout-ted for you,” she played up her tears. [Y/N] played up everything for attention; they both knew that. But the situation was mutually beneficial for people that liked attention so damn much. “You didn’t hear me.” You never hear me.

“Oh, Princess…” Coriolanus rubbed his hands up and down her arms, hoping it would warm her up. He pulled away from her regrettably and stripped off his blazer. He wrapped it around her shoulders and pulled it carefully in front of her. He knew [Y/N] would like the gesture. Now, Coriolanus did not say I’m sorry. It was not his fault that [Y/N] had fled to the attic. He did instead try to make good from now forward. “I was so worried, I started to think something happened to you. I wanted to give you space, but then I didn’t hear from you all day. I’m relieved to know the only monster that got you was the attic,” Coriolanus leaned into her neck to kiss her in his favorite place. “You sat up here in all this junk and dust today; how are you still so stunning?”

[Y/N] laughed through a wet sniffle as Coriolanus searingly kissed her neck. “I didn’t know I’d worried you this much.” She muttered.

“I didn’t know I’d upset you this much,” Coriolanus agreed. That was as close to I’m sorry as she was going to get. “What did you do up here all day?”

“W-Went through some boxes. Found your old uniform.” [Y/N] smiled back.

“My Peacekeeper uniform?” Coriolanus asked in surprise. He hoped that she had not found anything else, if there was anything more scathing up in the attic.

“Mhm,” she affirmed. [Y/N] stood shakily from the floor, snot dripping from her nose. Snot, which she knew better than to wipe on the sleeve of his blazer. She followed where the beams were in the floor nimbly so she didn’t put her foot through the ceiling below her. [Y/N] collected a decently sized metal crate with a handle on it. PRIVATE SNOW, CORIOLANUS B. was stamped on top of the dusty, dented metal. She carried it back to Coriolanus and sat down with it in front of him.

“I didn’t go through everything in here, that felt intrusive, but I did pull this out,” they both knew that was a lie and that she had absolutely gone through every item, but Coriolanus let her keep going without cutting in. [Y/N] decided she would still let him explain the history behind every item he wanted to share anyway.

When she shook the long gray-blue jacket out of the box, something happened that hadn’t happened last time she took the jacket out. “Coriolanus, what’s this?” [Y/N] asked, plucking a bulky chain off the floor that had tumbled from the coat’s breast pocket.

“Ah, I’d forgotten where those went. Dog tags from my time in Twelve.” Coriolanus said.

“I still have my father’s. You were like a real soldier then, huh?”

“Peacekeeper.” Coriolanus corrected.

“Yes, Peacekeeper.” [Y/N] agreed quietly.

[Y/N] held the two identical pendants in her hands.

SNOW, CORIOLANUS

CITADEL, CAPITOL

4147769218S 12

O NEG

CREMATE

His entire identity all on two pieces of nickel. While she squinted at the embossed metal, Coriolanus leaned forward across the box that had once held his entire world and grabbed the chain she was holding as well as her hands. [Y/N]’s red weepy eyes met his crystal clear blue ones. “Would you like them?”

“You don’t want to keep them?”

“Certainly not. My name right there on your chest? That’s preferable to them sitting in a dusty box forever. People will know who you belong to if you wander off like this again. ��Know you’re not, hm, like… up for finders-keepers.” Coriolanus shifted them out of [Y/N]’s hands and dropped the chain around her neck as if it were the finest gold necklace he had ever purchased her.

Coriolanus put that box up in the attic because he had not wanted to think about it ever again. Above all, though, Coriolanus Snow was an opportunistic man and he put those dog tags on [Y/N] just like he had Lucy Gray because he knew this move was flattering. If it worked once, it would work again. Sickeningly, he pulled out the same words he had used before too: “There. All mine.”

“All yours.” [Y/N] replied.

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