#well I was mostly doing a lot of crying which I wasn’t expecting

[tardxsblues]

yeah, heartbreak sucks, but have you ever had a tv show you were watching get taken off a streaming platform while you were in the middle of the series?

[voxslays]

Hi i loved your Hazbin Men as Dads Writing! Maybe you could write the same for the Hazbin Woman x reader as parents if the Idea intrests you ;-) ?

OMG OFC!!! I was thinking of doing a sequel lol but I wasn’t sure if I should. Now I definitely will though! <3

HAZBIN WOMEN AS MOTHERS

Featuring >>> Charlie, Carmilla, Rosie, Sera, Velvette, & Vaggie x Reader as mothers!

Rosie:

Let’s be honest, your child is going to be a cannibal. Assuming the three of you live in cannibal town together as a family, (which is very likely), this may happen sooner…like before your baby turns a year old…BUT ANYWAYS-!

Your child will grow up surrounded by Rosie’s loyal subjects. Nobody in cannibal town would dare lay a hand on your precious child, but for the few outsiders who try…let’s just say they pasta way. Their ashes may or may not end up in Rosie’s spice cabinet, and then on your dinner plate…but rosie is such a good cook!

Rosie would be such a good mom. Sure, she is a very busy woman, but she would always make time for her little (demonic) spawn! Overall, 10/10 parenting.

Carmilla:

Carmilla is already a mother, she has lots of experience. Having two or three daughters, (I can’t remember how many she has in the show lol), she has seen it all. She knows all the tricks. She is strict…but loving!!!

She is shown being protective and willing to anything to save her daughters, so it would be the same for your child, if not more. She would not let the poor kid out of her sight for the first few months. She knows hell is a dangerous place, and will teach your child how to defend themselves from a young age.

Like I mentioned with Valentino in my other post, Carmilla would likely have your child learning Spanish young. It is very important your child is well educated both in language (and fighting). But then again, she’s already portrayed to be a good mother in the show, so what did you expect?

Velvette:

Oh lord. With her there is no way your child isn’t a mistake. Velvette would be ‘way too busy’ to deal with a child. She is one of the Vees and the top designer in pride! What did you expect!? She doesn’t have time for some random child!

Velvette is literally an adult screenager, so like Valentino I don’t think she would be very responsible with your baby. Velvette would leave your child unsupervised, or under the supervision of one of her models who wasn’t busy at the moment, while she does fittings and preps her models for the next big fashion show.

While in public she puts up a front of being too busy, in private I think she would genuinely feel guilty. Overtime I think she would grow to care for the child, teaching them all about fashion and social media. She is totally the type of mom to show your child off on social media or just create an account from scratch. Its safe to say your child is already a star.

Charlie:

BEST MOM EVER??? I mean first of all, she is the princess of hell, and with her personality, that basically means your child is going to be spoiled rotten! Your child has all the (mostly duck themed toys, brought to you by Lucifer) they could ever dream of. This child is royalty, and will be treated as such.

She would NEVER yell at your child, god forbid the poor kid cries…she might start crying too! Charlie is also always up for playing with your child. Whether it’s arts and crafts, dress up, dollies, etc. she will drop whatever she’s doing—or finish it up quickly—and play.

Grandpa Luci is also around very frequently. He has just reconciled with his daughter after all, and his daughter has a daughter??? If Charlie wasn’t spoiling your child enough, Lucifer is doing ten times more. Every time he visits he brings your child a trinket, like one of his ducks, a duck themed onesie, or just a sugary treat.

Vaggie:

Literally a carbon copy of Carmilla but like ten times more protective. I mean how could she not be? Her precious child is living under the same roof as the radio demon! (Let’s just say that if Alastor steps within even ten feet of your baby he is getting threatened with a spear to the neck.

I feel like she would be a boy mom. Not in the tiktok boy mom sense, but I just generally feel like she would get along better with a son than a daughter. No matter which one you have though, she will love them unconditionally.

Supportive of her children’s dreams in the same way she supports Charlie’s. She is always very supportive, but can sometimes be a little doubtful. However, to balance that out, she always brings good advice to the table. I can also see her keeping secrets, like the fact she was an exterminator from her child until they get older.

Sera:

She’s like Carmilla but more angelic. Sera is very strict and by the book, and would expect her child(ren) to be the same. She can be hard on others, especially her children, but in reality she just wants the best for them.

If the two of you had a child, I feel they would be a mix of Emily and Lucifer. Kind, energetic, and a dreamer. This worries Sera a lot. She lived with Lucifer in heaven, she saw his dreams. Sera watched him fall for the dreams he tried to make a reality. Therefore, she would try to stop your child from turning into a dreamer.

Overtime, I think she would realize that your child’s dreams are nothing like Lucifer’s, and would become more supportive. Overall, Sera is very overprotective, strict, and hard on others, but she is truly looking out for their well-being.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Jingle of The Bells

jake "hangman" seresin x reader

Summary: Your little girl is worried her father won’t make it home for Christmas.

Notes/warnings: this is the same family from the Oh, Baby universe, but it stands alone as well :) Mostly Fluff, a dash of angst.

This is for @sailor-aviator's Christmas Writing Challenge (my word is Bells)

Words: 2386

Your daughter was so much like your husband. You’d say too much if not for the fact that you loved them deeply. But there came a lot with their similarities. Double doses of determination, wit, and control. So, not unlike your husband, your little girl wanted to be the one to call the shots. However, circumstances didn’t always allow for that, and in those cases, Eve struggled the most.

---

“Mama, he’s supposed to be home!” 

Eve’s arms were wrapped tight around your neck as her wails echoed in your ear. You held on to her snuggly, her little legs tucked into the open space between your criss-crossed seated position on the floor. 

Until you’d joined her, she’d sat in the same spot all night, the teddy bear from her father settled in her lap as she stared at the front door. Despite the colored lights strung around your home, the pile of presents for her and her baby brother from Jake’s mother, grandmother, and team, and the cookies waiting to be decorated, Eve hadn’t moved. 

Every five minutes she would ask you the time, and each answer you gave her broke your heart right along with hers. She was too young to remember that Jake’s return schedule wasn’t always a guarantee. You were used to not making plans on the day you were originally told your husband would be coming home to you because promises in his line of work didn’t exist. There were no promises he would be gone only as long as he initially believed, no promises he would return on time, no promises he would return at all. But for so long Eve was spared all of that. The one time she remembered her father leaving, he did manage to come back when expected. She had never faced that disappointment. Until now. 

“Sweetie, it’s not Daddy’s fault,” you whispered. “I promise you he wants to be with us and that he’ll be home as soon as he can.”

“But it’s Christmas!”

Christmas Eve, actually, but to your daughter it was all the same. She had expectations. Cookie decorating, and milk pouring—a skill she’d asked Jake to help her perfect, not wanting to spill a drop for the reindeer. There was a letter she wanted to write to Santa, thanking him for bringing her Daddy home, which he had not, only adding to Eve’s bitterness. And it didn’t do her any good that before Jake left, she had also begged for a Christmas Eve pajama party where you all dressed in matching flannels, her baby brother included, and read a story before bed. 

Jake had done his best to promise those things to Eve, and in the same moment, with a single look at you, had silently communicated the very real possibility that none of it might happen. You knew it, expected it, and didn’t blame him for it, but it didn’t change that your little girl was in pain and her father wasn’t by her side to make it go away.

“I know. I know, Sweetie,” you said, gently rocking her back and forth. But your soothing could only be so effective, and for the night, she wouldn’t be able to take much more. “I think it’s time for bed now.”

“Why?” came out nasally, her crying having stuffed up her nose.

“Because you’ve been up for too long. You woke up hours earlier than you usually do and you didn’t take your nap today.”

She pulled her head back from the crook of your neck to look at you, and you wiped away the salty liquid from under her lashes. “But what about Daddy?”

“Daddy will be home soon. He’s just a little late, but that’s ok.”

“It is not.”

“It is, Sweetie,” you said, your own tears forming and beginning to blur your daughter’s face. “He’s trying so hard to be here, and that’s what matters.” When one of them fell, Eve’s finger rose to meet the droplet as it slowed its descent down your cheek. You grabbed her hand and rubbed the tear off her fingertip. “Come on, let’s go lay down.”

This time, with exhaustion setting in, she didn’t fight you, but she did wiggle from your hold to stand up on her own. Then she used the last of her energy to rush over to the coffee table where the small set of jingle bells she’d been dangling in front of her brother’s face to elicit his giggles was lying. Jake had bought her those bells last Christmas and immediately regretted bringing such incessant jingling into his home. 

Swallowing back your remaining tears, you watched as Eve wrapped her fingers around the velvet cord that kept the bells in a bunch before making her way into the hall and draping the cord over the knob of the front door. 

You nodded and stood. Her tears were not quite dried, and you knew she was desperate to keep her eyes on that door, but she still took your hand when you reached out for her. 

“I’ll tell you if I hear them,” you said before lifting her in your arms to carry her up to her room. 

---

In her weakened fight against sleep, Eve failed. When you finally had her tucked in her bed, passed out and releasing soft snores, you returned to the living room where you wrapped yourself up in a blanket and stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace. 

You did your best not to fall apart in front of your daughter, but Jake being gone ripped you to pieces as much as it did her. It didn’t help that his return was no less anxiety-inducing than his departure. The occasional unpredictability allowed your mind to wander to undesirable scenarios that, at this point, you knew weren’t likely, but the thought of them still terrified you. 

Jake was fine, though. You believed it, knew it. He was safe. The next person to open that door would be him, it was just a matter of when, and hoping it would be before the holiday was over. 

---

The clock had reached midnight only a handful of minutes before your eyelids grew heavy and begged to close. You fought sleep but, much like your daughter, reached your limit and succumbed. The consistent crackling of the fire combined with the warmth of the blanket lulled you slowly but effectively. It was too quiet and peaceful to resist, until a jingle clanged against another jingle which together thumped against something thick and solid. 

Your body jolted as you heard a muttered “Why so damn loud?”

“Jake?” you called, tossing the blanket aside and running toward the door. He barely had his duffle on the floor and his key out of the lock when you slammed into him. 

His arms were around you in an instant, slightly lifting you off the ground as his nose tucked into the crook of your neck. “God, you feel good,” was muffled in his deep voice, vibrating against your skin. His arms tightened. “So good.”

Your feet met the floor again, and with your hands on his cheeks, you guided his head back so you could press your lips to his. Your moan greeted his. Then you sighed into the kiss and melted further into his hold. No matter how many times you said goodbye, you were always relieved to find him the same as when he left. The feel of him, the taste of him, the chills you got when his hands wove into your hair—he never returned as anyone other than your Jake. 

He gave you two more pecks, then one final long kiss before he broke it to breathe, allowing his forehead to rest against yours while his chest expanded and deflated and expanded again to take in the air you’d stolen. “I missed you, Honey.”

A tear forged a cold trail down the flush of your cheek and slipped into the seam of your lips. “I missed you, too.”

Jake pressed a kiss to your forehead before meeting your eyes. “How are the kids?”

“Needing you,” you said as he wiped away the wet river from your skin. “Eve thought you weren’t going to make it home in time.”

Knowing your husband, it took only the barest of shifts in his stance, his brow, his eyes, for you to see his heart was breaking right along with Eve’s. He turned his head toward the staircase that led to the bedrooms of your home, his daughter’s in particular.

Inching up on your toes, you softly kissed the line of his jaw and, somehow, for the first time, noticed he had a little bit of stubble. His last day or two must have been exhausting if he hadn’t gotten a chance to shave. Likely, everyone was in such a rush to get home to their families that some basic rules went out the window. Your kiss traveled up to his cheek. 

“It’s ok, baby,” you whispered. “You’re with us now.”

“Did she cry?”

“She’ll forget all about it when she sees your face.”

Jake lightly hummed, unsatisfied with the state he’d forced upon his daughter. Without letting another beat pass, he took your hand, led you to your daughter's room, and eased her door open. 

The glow emitting from Eve’s new plane nightlight—an early Christmas gift the Daggers had sent from overseas—highlighted her sleeping face, and her delicate features were so peaceful you’d never have known she was devastated a few hours prior.

When you had let her open the gift from the team, you of course told her who it was from right away with a huge smile splitting your face. She was so excited as she pulled at the bow and shredded the paper that she laughed louder than you had heard in quite some time. Her eyes went wide and she hopped up on her feet to fly the plane around the room. She giddily showed her infant brother—who received his own nightlight in the form of a train so the gifts would be unique to each child—before she plopped down on the carpet in your living room to examine every detail of the elaborately designed light. 

And then she began to sob. 

She sobbed for missing her daddy and aunts and uncles; for missing the many times Jake had taken his family to see the planes he flew, which closely matched the shape of Eve’s gift. She sobbed until you took her upstairs for bed, helped her plug in the light, and told her a story of her daddy seeing that plane and that train and immediately thinking of his baby girl and little boy. 

That was only three weeks ago, and Eve’s angst had grown with the passing days. But the little light helped her rest at night as long as she completed her ritual of crouching down in front of the radiating glow and whispering a soft “goodnight Daddy” before settling into bed. 

It did help for a while, but it didn’t cease the daily return of her tears. And this night, fairly so, was by far the worst. Her disappointment made the light its least effective since she’d received it. 

Jake stepped into the room and took a seat at the edge of her bed. “I shouldn’t wake her,” he said as he brushed a blonde curl out of her face. From that light touch, Eve stirred, but then she stilled again, releasing a soft breath.

Your husband sighed right along with her. You knew how badly he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her tight. He needed that. He could see her in front of him, and from those inhales and exhales, could hear her, and he could feel the soft curls of her hair, but nothing compared to feeling her little heartbeat beating against his, or hearing her sweet voice, or seeing her bright smile. That he’d have to wait for morning to truly greet his daughter after months away was an ache you would never know. Yes, you ached for him when he was gone, and you knew he did for you, but it just wasn’t the same. This was his child, a piece of him that he’d gone without for so long. It was a powerless feeling. She was right there, but being the father he was, Jake wouldn’t disturb her for his own sake. 

Carefully, Jake leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Merry Christmas, baby girl.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “Would you like to go see our son?” Another one of his children that he’d undoubtedly refuse to disturb, no matter how much he wanted to see the little pair of eyes that matched yours staring up at him. 

Jake nodded, gently squeezing Eve’s tiny hand. He was about to stand when you both heard a soft, “Daddy?”

Your heads whipped in Eve’s direction to find her fists rubbing at her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered as her vision adjusted to the darkness, but when she saw the darkened figure sitting by her side, Eve didn’t second guess herself. She kicked at her covers and leapt across the bed with the speed and agility of a bunny rabbit. 

“Daddy!” 

Jake chuckled as he caught her. “Hi, baby girl.”

Little hands reached up to his face to verify his realness. They ran up and down the scruff she’d rarely ever seen, making Jake’s cheeks contort in funny shapes, and then she grinned. “You came home.”

You couldn’t see all of Jake’s face, but you heard his sniffle as he tugged your daughter closer to his chest. “Of course, I did.”

“Mama said you would.”

“Well, Mama’s usually right, isn’t she?” he said, turning to look at you and confirming the redness that was brightening the green of his irises. He winked before returning his attention to his daughter.

Eve nodded vigorously then threw her arms around his neck, squeezing with all of her might. “I like Santa again.”

“When didn’t you like Santa?” Jake asked as he rubbed his hand up and down her back.

Eve pulled back. Her smile was still in place as she patted the tops of his shoulders with both hands. “Today," she said. "But you are home so he’s ok.”

---

A/N: so i have another christmas challenge fic coming that is Rooster x reader, which is my very first Rooster fic so hopefully I do alright. Then my focus will be on The One I Want and some Thorn (Expendables 3) fics :)

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @eloquentdreamer @jessicab91 @rosedurin @novagreen04 @memeorydotcom @purplevortexx @sgt-barnesveins @books-are-escapes

[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [3].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, talks about stalking, talks about death, data privacy violations, so much emotional whiplash yummy, a very long conversation, google dependent historical information. WORD COUNT. 6.3k.

NOTE. this chapter finally made its way out hell 😭😭😭 per usual, please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! a single comment on ao3 inspired me to finish this, so ur feedback really means a lot! enjoy<3

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 3 — can we go back to being parasocial?

IF SOMEONE HEARS YOUR SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLDED WITHIN THE PAST FEW DAYS, they may accuse you of lying. Delusional, even. You’d think the same had you not been the center of it all— yet the proof is in your pockets. Your phone. In the album Choi Yeonjun failed to sign, stuffed inside your bag at the last minute before you left your apartment earlier.

The summary. Right. Yes.

“Can they stop sharing that video of Yeonjun excessively flirting with a fan?! I’m going to kill myself if I see it one more time.”

You were lucky enough to nab a fansign slot. But instead of getting Choi Yeonjun’s signature, you ended up getting a kiss of a hand instead, along with a scrawl of numbers on your album that you’re far too terrified to try to dial.

“Hey, send me our photo with Soobin the other day,” nudges Huening from beside you. “I’m gonna print it out and put it in a locket and use it as a family heirloom.”

You bumped into one of your favorite actors, Choi Soobin, in the middle of a late night convenience store run with your friends to fuel your group all nighter, stained his shirt with your ice cream, and got a photo with him in the process.

“By the way, have you called the business card yet? What are you gonna do with your broken phone screen?”

And Choi Beomgyu may or may not have professed his undying love for you, asked for your hand in marriage, and started crying in front of you in less than ten fucking minutes.

“She’s zoned out.”

The problem is, you can’t even bask in the delightful absurdity of it all because one common thread from all those three separate instances has been keeping you up for nights. It’s clawing at your brain, lingering in the back of your mind like an incessant stalker— which, mind you, is not a pleasant feeling when the very causes of such disturbance were once the bringers of joy and all things good in your otherwise meaningless life as a cog in the capitalist machinery that is society.

“Hello? Are you awake?”

Said problem being the fact that you’re pretty sure they all called you by your name at one point.

How the fuck do they know your name?

“I deleted Twitter. I Airdropped it to you. No, I have not called it yet. Now please let me think in peace.”

Crazy. This is all too crazy. In the first place, what are the odds that you bump into three celebrities within one week’s time? Is this some sort of prank, or something? Are those three filming a hidden camera show together? No, no. That couldn’t be because there’s no fucking way a company is sane enough to stage a risky hidden camera prank during a fansign knowing full well how obsessive and insane fans can get. You’re lucky your face wasn’t caught in any of the videos circulating online— video of you and Choi Yeonjun, mostly him, acting out a fucking sageuk. You’re lucky you haven’t been doxxed yet.

“Finish your sandwich,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, nudging your food closer to you, and you sigh heavily. Maybe you’re just wrong, you think, taking a bite from the bread. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe you’re just overthinking.

You eat your lunch and steal some wet wipes from Gaeul in between. Right. It’s not like you’re ever gonna bump into them again. You live in, as cliche as it sounds, two different worlds after all. You’re just gonna watch their dramas, listen to their music, enjoy their performances, and that’s it that’s it that’s it.

“Prof Jang sent a message. Class is canceled.”

But still—

“Woohoo! Let’s go to the new dessert shop that opened downtown.”

Choi Beomgyu’s voice saying I love you, Choi Soobin’s cologne wafting in the air you were breathing in, and Choi Yeonjun’s lips pressed against your skin.

How can a sane person just forget about all of that?!

“Why do you look like you’re fantasizing about perverted shit?” Woohyun slaps you in the face with a reality check. This is fucking stupid.

“I’m not fantasizing,” you grunt, because they were events that actually fucking happened— they weren’t birthed from your brain’s insanity. “Anyway, dessert? Where is it?” You ignore your burning face, hoping that your friends decide to ignore it too, but Gaeul has her eyes narrowed at you. Crap. She didn’t recognize that it’s you in the videos right? Holy fucking hell, you’d rather die.

“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”

Oh. Well. That’s— that’s something. A good something because she hasn’t suspected you yet, moitioning instead to your cracked phone that has been buzzing under your notice because you’ve been thinking way too fucking much.

You check the caller ID, but it’s an unknown number, and it doesn’t match the business card you got from your run in with the alleged Choi Beomgyu. “Hello?” you answer, and a voice you don’t recognize says your name and asks if it’s you. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”

Another item added to the weird as fuck things that happened to your this week. You excuse yourself from your friends, and with knitted brows, you listen to the stranger at the other end of the line. “You met Choi Soobin the other day at a 7-Eleven in Gangnam, right?” The fuck? Did someone see you that day? Is this a stalker? “This is his manager. Lee Byeongho. I would like to speak with you regarding a certain matter.”

Now, hold the fucking phone.

“Is everything alright?”

You respond to Huening’s concern with a stiff smile before turning away from them. “Did I do something wrong?” you fuss into the call. “I didn’t post any of the photos from that day. I never talked about it online either, and I’m pretty sure my friends haven’t either. Wait. Wait a minute. How did you get my number?”

“Yes, it was difficult to obtain knowing only your first name and university.” That doesn’t answer your question. That just gave you more questions. “But, no. You aren’t in trouble. Actually...I called because you’re the only one who can help us— help Soobin— get out of trouble.”

Your face scrunches up.

“I’m at your campus right now. Parking lot. Do you mind meeting me for a moment?”

Just what did you get yourself into?

“You haven’t finished your food. Where are you going?”

“Somewhere,” you reply, quickly snatching your half-eaten sandwich from the table as your friends follow your swift movements with matching looks of confusion. “I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” However, you are quite worried. You’re pretty sure Lee Manager, or whatever, is committing some data privacy crimes against you, but the one thing you want at the moment is answers. Your brain is about to explode from all the fucking questions and confusion. There’s a sliver of hope that meeting up with this sketchy guy can answer a few of them. You’d take that chance to air out your head.

There’s a black van in the parking lot. It’s the first thing you noticed because one of its doors are open, and there’s a familiar looking guy waiting just in front of the exposed seats. 

He notices you approaching. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says. What’s with men you’re meeting for the first time treating you with familiarity? You’re going to rip your hair out and throw yourself into moving traffic.

“Sure, but can you get to the point?” you stiffly say. “I’m a little busy. I still have classes in a bit.”

“Of course, I’m sorry. This whole situation must’ve come off as a shock to you.” Great, now you’re feeling bad. Soobin’s manager (allegedly) looks like he’s been through a whole lot as well. “Anyway. You are a fan of Choi Soobin, correct?”

“Well,” you blink. “Yes.”

“How about the dramas Kang Jaehee has written and directed?” he follows up. “Are you a fan of those as well?”

Your brows furrow. “I guess?” Peach Tree. That Summer. Mogi. Those are the titles that come right at the top of your head. “What does that have to do anything with me?” Manager Lee spares you a look of pity. You feel like this meet-up is just set out to making you even more fucking confused.

“I sincerely apologize. I didn’t want to drag you into this either, but I’m afraid you’re the only option I have,” says Manager Lee despondently. “Since...since you are a fan of Soobin, and I assume that means you also care about his career, so—”

He pauses. Like he’s practicing the next set of words he’s about to say inside his head.

“—do you mind meeting up with him to convince him to take the lead role for Kang Jaehee’s upcoming drama?”

But nothing could’ve prepared you for that.

What.

What the fuck?

“Mr Manager. Sir,” you start, appalled beyond comprehension. “I’d appreciate it if you start making a bit more sense.” 

“Trust me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either.”

You’re speechless. Your mouth is hanging open with no words coming out because, again, what the fuck? Manager Lee looks just as defeated as you, as if he weren’t the one who had just presented that ridiculous proposal. You are, quite frankly, at a discernible loss. 

Manager Lee lets out a sigh and digs a hand into his pocket. “I’m afraid this is all the time I have today. But please contact me once you’ve made a decision.” Another business card acquired. This is just dandy. “I am really hoping for your cooperation, miss. I’m sure you’re aware of Soobin’s inactivity lately, and my intention of approaching you today is simply in order to help my star’s career. Please consider the favor positively, and we will compensate you as much as my authority can allow.”

With that, you’re left with another laminated piece of paper in your hands. Gosh. This is a headache. When you get back to your friends, they notice the distress you’re in, further justifying a visit to the new dessert store, and seeing how your soul has completely left your body, you’re dragged along with them with ease.

“Hey, pick one. My treat,” says Woohyun. You let out a grunt and point at a random pastry on display. Next thing you know, you’re seated in between Huening and Gaeul at the store you don’t even know the name of. 

Huening is force feeding you an eclair. “Eat.” Your scowl disappears when you allow the eclair entry into your mouth. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? Who did you meet earlier?” 

Seeing as you show absolutely no intentions of telling them, they refuse to question you about it further. Good on them, because there’s no way in hell you’re spilling your predicament. Not until you find out exactly what kind of situation you’re in, at the very least. The two business cards feel like they’re weighing your pockets down, a constant reminder of their existence along with the scrawl Yeonjun left behind.  

“I know exactly how to make you feel better.”

The declaration comes from Gaeul, who slides her phone over to you, and when you look down to see what exactly her miracle medicine is to make you feel less manic, you hack out a cough upon seeing Choi Yeonjun’s face on her phone screen. “The hell is wrong with you?” asks Taehyun from across, giving you some water to push down the eclair lodged in your throat. “I know you like him, but even that is an overreaction.”

Jesus, you’re close to losing it. When you’ve avoided choking to death, Gaeul puts an airpod into your ear, and you hear Yeonjun reading out some comments. “Choi Yeonjun, you look really happy lately, did something good happen? someone asked,” he says while having snacks of his own. “First of all, why are you calling me Choi Yeonjun? It’s like you’re putting a wall between us. I don’t like it.”

Gaeul makes a noise of some sort and had you not been subjected to this week’s insanities, you might have reacted the same way too. Instead, you simply listen to his live in caution, feigning disinterest as you watch him nibble on some pretzels and churros through the screen, continuing to answer the slew of questions in the comments.

“Anyway, you’re right! Something good did happen.” Yeonjun hums while picking out a pretzel from the paper bag, rustling noise and a lively tune filling the audio for a moment— a short moment, right before he continues speaking. “That’s because I finally met the love of my life.”

Taehyun has to give you his water again.

“Oh? Oho, what’s with the exclamation points?” he laughs. “Did I meet them the other day? Hmm...that’s a secret. You’re curious? You think it might be you? Well, let’s see. Should I describe her?”

“God, he’s so fucking messy,” says Gaeul from beside you. “This is why I like him. How many calls is he getting for his manager and company this time?”

“What’s going on? Why is she so startled?”

“Yeonjun’s talking about his apparent soulmate, I don’t know. Wanna listen?”

“Didn’t he get in trouble for doing the same thing last time too?”

Now, you’re not one to give a shit about his love life, and you like to stay out of that side of celebrity gossip as much as you can, but Choi Yeonjun himself is droning on about the love of his life right now. You can’t not hear about it even if you want to. However, as much as you want to let things come into one ear and out through the other, you can’t. Because— wait. Wait. His description is eerily familiar. His description is making you double take and second guess what you’re fucking hearing.

“Sounds a lot like you,” Taehyun remarks without much thought, right after Choi Yeonjun says that the girl he likes has a bit of an attitude, but he likes that about her.

Huening lets out a snort. “Yeah, that’s definitely you. Why don’t you go in a wedding dress the next time you attend a fansign? Who knows, you might have a shot.”

You snap them a dirty look. Fuck. This is making your head spin. For the second time, Choi Yeonjun’s tendency of putting himself into headlines and the trending searches for doing something insane is giving you nothing but stress.

“I did give her my number, but she hasn’t messaged me yet, so I’m quite hurt.”

Number. Hold on a fucking second.

“The comments are going crazy.”

You grab your bag from underneath you, dropping it down to your lap.

“Hey, if you’re watching this, pl—eeeeease contact me. Kim Noona thinks I have a phone addiction now because I’ve been dying waiting for your call.”

You quickly get up from your seat.

“Yo, where are you going this time?”

“I need a minute,” you announce, eyes scanning the store for a quiet place alone while hugging your bag to your chest. There’s nowhere. Looks like you have to get out. 

“Damn, we were just joking. As if you have a chance with a celebrity like him.”

Huening’s joke is ignored and you quickly leave outside the doors, making a sharp turn around the corner, slipping through the passersby downtown until you find an empty alley. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy and you may be reaching right now. You may be acting crazy, but what Choi Beomgyu said during the interview with Yeong-Il the other day is echoing in your mind, and— in conjunction with everything else that had happened— you’re starting to think that maybe he wasn’t joking.

Your cracked phone screen greets you when you take it out of your pocket. On your other hand is the first business card you got this week.

“Who’s this?”

“Hello. Good day.” You tell them your name, the events that led up to you receiving this number, with the hope that maybe you’re finally on to something. “I’d like to talk about the compensation for my broken phone.”

Whatever that something is, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it.

*

It’s already beyond closing time at Kwiyeomdongmoim Cafe (a mouthful, you know), yet your pink apron is still neatly tied around your waist as you pace back and forth, to and fro, in circles inside the breakroom. The time is half-past nine in the evening. You should’ve clocked out thirty minutes ago, but you’re still waiting. 

The knock on the door signified the end of your wait. You turn to see your boss’s head popping in through the half-open crack. 

“Three guys are waiting for you,” informs Seokmin. “They all seem handsome. Are they your suitors?”

When you ditched your friends at the still unnamed dessert store the other day, you did it to make a few calls. Three, to be exact. Today is the culmination of those calls, which is why you’ve been erratically nervous the entire freaking day. Choi Soobin, Choi Beomyu, and Choi Yeonjun’s managers all answered respectively when you called all the sketchy numbers you got and made some negotiations (apparently, the mess on your album is Yeonjun’s number, but he got his phone confiscated after that livestream). 

“As if,” you say, walking up to the door leading back into the cafe. Suitors, more like stalkers. Fans stalking their idols is common, but the other way around is a pretty fresh idea. “Anyway, thanks, Kyeom. Thank you for letting me use the store for a while.” Because this is the only private place you can think of outside of your own home— and there’s no way in hell you’re letting them in there when you don’t even know how they managed to get hold of your personal information.

“We’re closed anyway.” Seokmin smiles and makes way for you to pass by. “Go ahead and do your thing. Do you want me to stay inside or keep watch?” 

“You can stay inside, it’s alright.” 

He nods. “Call me when you’re done. Scream if you need backup. I can handle all of them.”

You laugh and thank him once more, a pat on his arm before you decide to peek out the door first as a precautionary measure. From your spot, you can see three thoroughly covered men in windbreakers, caps, and masks sitting on three separate tables in the store. The blinds have already been rolled down, so you can’t see anything outside, but there doesn’t appear to be any cameras around, so you take it as a safe sign to finally leave your hiding spot.

The moment you do, the break room door creaks, and all three pairs of eyes immediately fall on you. 

They stand up. They call out your name in unison.

Holy shit.

And when they do, they all look at each other with a sudden flash of hostility in the air.

Um. Well. How are you supposed to do this? “H—hello,” you manage to squeak out, prompting their attention once more. Soobin takes off his cap and removes his mask, the other two following suit, and oh my god. Oh my god. You suck in a deep breath. Today, you are not a fan. You are an interrogator. This is not a fansign. This is an interrogation. 

“I— uh, I asked your managers if I can meet you all to—today for a specific reason.” Wow. Good job. Your hands are shaking and you can’t look up from the floor or else you’d start losing your mind. “But—but, before that— would...would you like some drinks…?”

Interrogation paused. You need to get your shit together first.

“Please enjoy.”

With the help of your boss (because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you dropped the first one you made), you managed to whip up four iced teas and settle all three of them into one table at the very back of the store. You send a stiff smile at Seokmin after he placed all the drinks on the table.

God, you owe him so much— especially when he’s being unreasonably glared at by the three men sitting with you right now. Choi Beomgyu to your left, Choi Soobin to your right, Choi Yeonjun directly across from you and holy fuck, you have yet to look at them properly yet for your own safety. They haven’t been talking to each other either, simply sitting and waiting for you to speak. You’re pretty sure they know each other though, at least by name, being in the same industry and all. 

To say that the tension in the air is suffocation would be an understatement. How...how do you start this? The fuck should you say first?

“You know, I was really happy when Kim Noona told me you called.”

Apparently you don’t have to start it. Choi Yeonjun does it for you.

“But why are these two crashing our date?”

And that’s when things also start to get messy.

“Date?” Choi Soobin interjects. He sounds offended. Why does he sound offended. “What are you talking about?”

Choi Yeonjun doesn’t get a chance to make his case. Because Choi Beomgyu from your left suddenly snatches one of your hands from the table, prompting you to look at one of them for the first time tonight, and your eyes fly wide open. “I’d...like to apologize for the other day. I was just overtaken by my emotions. I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”

You are quite freaked out because holy shit, this is too much maybe. Not maybe. Yes. This is too much. Too. Much.“Hey, why are you holding her hand?!” you hear Choi Soobin exclaim from your other side. Choi Beomgyu’s soft expression suddenly disappears into a glare and a sneer the moment he shifts his gaze.

“You’re holding her hand too!”

“Why can’t I?!”

“Hey, this isn’t fair! One of you switch with me—”

Dizzy. You’re feeling dizzy. Your head is spinning and you’re suffocating from the heat emanating from your very face. Whatever they’re arguing about isn’t even reaching your ears anymore. You’re getting lightheaded and your sweaty hands start slipping out from the two’s weirdly tender hold on your hands because your body is physically breaking down.

“Shut up! Oh my god, my head—”

Your vision actually starts spinning for a second so you quickly bring the bottom of your palms to your temples, elbows on the table to balance yourself, only to be wobbled and shaken because the three suddenly jolted off their seats in panic.

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, just please—for the love of god— sit down and shut up.”

They sit down and shut up. You massage your temples in silence. You remove your hands from your face and, after sucking in a deep breath and releasing it thereafter, feel your heartbeat settling into a normal rate. As normal as it can get in this situation.

“Whew. Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s get down to business.” Finally, you’re the one steering the conversation. You give each of them a once over as quickly as possible because now you know that prolonged eye contact will only hurt you. You settle with looking at the gaps between each of them. That’s fine. You’re fine. “Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu.”

It’s like three bulbs just lit up in succession. Your brain is starting to hurt.

“A—as I was saying, you three are some of South Korea’s biggest celebrities and although I am, in fact, a big fan of all three of you—” Why is Choi Soobin growing pink. Why the fuck is he blushing. “—that— that does not make me fail to recognize the amount of weird shit that’s been happening lately, and I think I need answers.”

They are still sitting down and shutting up. They listen to instructions well, at the very least.

“First, how the fuck did all three of you know my name without any prior introduction. Second—”

The words get clamped in your throat. It’s lodged in there very tightly because you make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye, only to notice that all three of them are looking at you with the same expression. An expression you can only describe as longing.

And your face starts burning.

“Se— second, why…why do you all keep looking at me like I’m an ex you want to get back together with…?”

Maybe you asked the wrong question.

Because for some reason they all look sad now. Really sad. Really fucking sad and it’s making your stomach clench and nerves all numb and funky because making three big celebrities all sad simultaneously is a bragging right at one end of the spectrum, and a national crime at the other.

It’s Choi Soobin who cracks the silence. “I…I had a feeling when I saw you again for the first time at the store.” Again? “Do you not remember me?”

Your face furrows. “No…? Did we ever meet before you became an actor?”

Hurt. The look of sadness has now spiraled into hurt and one might think you just stabbed and twisted a knife into his fucking gut.  “How—how about me?” Your attention turns to Choi Yeonjun who isn’t looking any better. It’s like his entire world view was just proven to be wrong and why does it feel like you’re the one to blame. 

What else can you do but shake your head in denial? Now he looks like he’d just been told he’s adopted!

“You’re…you’re joking,” he tries to laugh it off, but it only comes off as strained and shaky, then, in one fell swoop— desperate. “R—right…?”

“Great!”

Before you start feeling even shittier, Choi Beomgyu finally decides to join in. 

“And here I thought her forgetting about me was the worst case scenario.” His tone is bitter. There’s a snap in his words. “I didn’t think there’d be other bastards in the same situation as me. God fucking damn it.”

There’s a moment of silence. You watch as realization hits the other while you’re still left in the dark. Choi Yeonjun juts his seat closer. Choi Soobin tries to reach a hesitant arm to your direction, but you’re  tugged to the other side by Choi Beomgyu, who’s suddenly a little too, too close.

“Hey.”

Your hands are clamped together. 

“I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have loved you four hundred years ago and I still love you now, and if whatever god or deity decides to make you meet you for the third time, I’ll still love you then.”

Beomgyu’s holding both of them in between his in a firm grip.

“Second life is about you. Blue Spring is about you. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for from the beginning of this life until the last.”

Now, if this situation wasn’t crazy, your heart would be skipping a beat right now.

But it is crazy. This is fucking insane. And you look around to see that there’s a weird look of sympathy and understanding in the other Choi’s eyes, clearly not recognizing the visceral insanity of this situation, which fills you with a swallowing lump of existential dread. You pry your hands out of Beomgyu’s grasp (you swear you can hear glass breaking), and slowly turn to Choi Yeonjun and say, with a very hesitant, very cautious, “Y...you too…?”

The look on his face says it all. And then you swivel over to Choi Soobin.

“And you?” 

“I’ve lo—”

“No!” you snap. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please. Oh my god.”

You see Seokmin popping his head out from the corner, mouthing an are you okay? and you shakily bring up a weak thumbs up. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” you hear Choi Yeonjun say, which feels like a slap in the face because what exactly is interesting about this. “Here I thought I was special.”

“Get off your high horse,” retorts Choi Soobin, a sneer in his voice. You double take. Choi Soobin is supposed to be sweet and gentle and kind. Who is this man? “Whatever kind of past you had with her doesn’t mean anything. I met her first. I met her at the end of King Danjong’s rule.”

“Ha!” Choi Yeonjun starts. “We got married under King Taejong. I’ve loved her before any of you did.”

Now, what the fuck?

Choi Soobin’s face pales and he chokes over his words. “M—married?”

There’s a smug grin on Choi Yeonjun’s face. He leans back against the chair with his arms crossed in victory. “You heard that correctly. Married. Pack up your bags. Unless you want me to tell you everything we did on our we—”

“Shut up, shut up, I don’t want to hear it!”

Marriage. King Danjong. King Taejong. Second life. The gears are churning inside your head. You don’t like the direction where the gears are pointing.

“What about you?”

Choi Yeonjun raises the question and the attention is now on Choi Beomgyu. He’s been quiet. The other two wait for him to say his piece— a feigned air of disdain and arrogance but there’s an unconcealable undertone of nervousness underneath it all. Your iced teas have been left untouched. Choi Beomgyu simply scoffs and presses his crossed arms against his chest.

“I have no reason to tell you any of that. This is between me and her.”

And at your mention, you receive the undivided attention of three pairs of eyes once more. Your heart rattles. God fucking damn it. Listen, you’re an avid consumer of the entertainment industry. You’ve watched a good amount of dramas and have read a good amount of manhwas to surmise a conclusion with the bits and pieces of stray information being tossed back and forth between the three. And it’s all ridiculous. But you have nothing else to work with unless they come spilling their guts themselves.

“So,” you clear your throat. “Are you three, like…a couple…hundred years old…?”

They all look offended. 

“No!”

Well, maybe you’re wrong about that part. But after a very long, convoluted discussion, the “facts” (if you can even call it that), are finally laid down on your feet.

They say you’ve all met before. Separately, in three separate lifetimes, with this one allegedly being your fourth unless there were lives in between that they can’t remember. One thing for certain is that the three of them remember the life they had while loving you— and they loved you very much apparently because those feelings and memories got carried over even after they got reborn into the present day.

The problem is, you don’t have the same symptoms. You don’t remember anything about your past lives. Hell, you can’t even remember anything in this life before you hit two years old. 

You slump in your seat. The table rattles. They get up from their chairs and come circling around you in concern.

“Are— are you okay, do you need to lie down? You could rest in my van for a while and—”

You swat Choi Yeonjun’s hand away before it could land on your shoulder. You’ve now got your hands on your face in stress, and peeking through you see Choi Soobin on your right, crouching down and looking up at you with furrowed brows and big, sad eyes. On your left is Choi Beomgyu, half-seated on the chair. You let out a very long, very anguished and muffled groan. This is too much. “If— if what you guys are saying is true,” you say. “What does it matter?”

There’s a tense pause in the air. 

“What do you mean…?”

You spring up from your seat and turn around, Choi Yeonjun in front of you. 

“I mean what does it all matter? King Sejeong, Joseon era, or whatever— I don’t care about all of that. We’re in the twenty-first century right now. I’m neither your lover nor your wife. I’m just a fan of your dramas and music and performances and that's it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t really want to see their faces right now. You let a huff of air slip past your lips, turning back around to collect the untouched glasses of drinks on the table.

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me and explain. I hope it’s all settled. Thanks for clearing everything up today. You can now all leave.”

It’s Choi Yeonjun who races after you when you make your firm and quick strides to the counter. He cuts off your path. “I—I don’t understand,” he chokes out. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and see the threat of tears glazing his eyes. “What—what do you mean?”

Admittedly, that hurled a giant pang against your ribcage, knocking the air out of your chest, but you move forward. You brush past him, setting the glasses back on the counter, and— after a moment’s pause— you turn around, a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s like gravity is trying to suck you deep into the mantle. “What I’m trying to say is we should all just get over what happened all those hundreds of years ago and live our lives in the present. I mean, I don’t know any of you. Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to keep clinging onto the past, especially when you guys are nothing but strangers to me in this life?”

Dead silence. You don’t dare look at any of them in the face. You try and retreat to the break room as quickly as you can, hands fumbling to untie your apron along the way, but you stumble over your steps, screeching to a halt the moment you hear someone say—

“Do you think it’s that easy?”

You could hear your heart in your eardrums. 

It takes all the strength in your body for you to look back, to see the pained expression on Choi Beomgyu’s face standing the farthest away from you out of the three. “Do you think I put my name out there so that it’d be easier for you to find me, wrote all those songs about you in the hopes that I could see you again if you’re someone I can just easily forget?”

Your throat tightens. It’s like you’re swallowing a boulder.

“If you wanted me to forget about you, you shouldn’t have died right in front of me then. You shouldn’t have told me you loved me right before you went cold in my arms if you wanted me to fucking forget.”

Oh.

Oh, god.

Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin don’t look any better. It hits you that you might have been more than a little bit unfair.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t know your history. You don’t know what the fuck happened between you and them throughout those years that made them feel so strongly about you. But it must be harder for those who remember than for those who forgot.

It’s not like they chose to live in the present with half of their souls stuck in the past, either. You’ve been acting awfully unfair.

“I was being insensitive. I’m so sorry,” you exhale. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Your head is spinning in circles. “But to be honest, this is all still very overwhelming, and I’m having a hard time comprehending and making sense of everything. It doesn’t feel real.” You try to take a step closer, but your legs give in. Choi Yeonjun quickly rushes to balance you back on your feet.

“Don’t push yourself,” he says, softly. You can’t look at him. God, these guys really know how to bring your guilt all the way home.

“Thanks, um, anyway—” You breathe in. Shit, you can’t believe you’re considering this. “Again, I really can’t and won’t be able to understand the magnitude of your— well, uh— feelings, since I really don’t remember anything. But how about…I spend some time with each of you individually, and maybe…maybe it can help in jogging back my memories?”

The atmosphere shifts. Ah. This feels like a fucking trap.

“You— you mean it?”

To be honest, you’d much rather just not deal with any of this, just stay at home and continue living your life with these three men as persons you only know behind the screen. But those looks in their eyes— hopeful and melancholic— make you feel your organs are being rearranged every five seconds, and you’d feel bad leaving them with the pain of this conversation especially after they poured out their hearts to you.

You can’t deny the joy and escape they’ve given you for the past couple of years you’ve spent as their fan. Maybe entertaining this unreality is the least you can do.

“I mean, well,” you start, clearing your throat. “Choi Beomgyu, you still need to pay for my phone. Choi Soobin, your manager wanted me to talk to you about something, and Choi Yeonjun—”

You look at the guy who still has one arm pressed against your back, two hands in a firm grip on your shoulders. He’s looking at you and batting his eyes expectantly. You let out a sigh and set yourself loose.

“I need to discuss something with you soon, too.” As in, please stop vaguely mentioning me in your live streams because I fear I might find an angry mob in front of my house. “I think I have all your contact information anyway.”

There aren’t any more reactions coming from them. This seems like the best possible solution for all of you. You sigh again. This has been an emotionally draining evening. You can’t wait to get some fucking rest.

“I’ll be in touch with you or your managers soon. For now, let’s call it a day.”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[princessbrunette]

modern!anakin with a breeding kink and you’ve been acting up because you have too much energy so he just fucks the energy out of you while fucking his babies into you 😵‍💫

i just rawred

you’ve got waaaay too much energy — and anakins had a long week, and hasn’t been able to meet it. he’d be coming home each night, running a hand through his curly hair that had been flattened by his cap, dropping back on the couch with his head tipped back and wrists over his eyes after a long day at work whilst you practically run circles around him, rambling. he loves it, he loves you — but he’s just been so tired.

but now it’s the weekend.

saturday came, and he finally got to sleep in. only, to be awakened by you clattering about in the kitchen, before promptly running in and asking him to get up so he could reach something off the top shelf for you. he was well rested by the end of the day, mostly, but you were still in hyperdrive — firing questions at him as you lay beside eachother that night until he had to tell you “baby. i’m tired. no more talking, yeah?”

maybe he sounded a little stern, or maybe he wasn’t gentle enough — because he had to watch the way your lip curled as you nodded, rolling over and instantly ‘going to sleep’. you knew you were hyper, and knew you were being, well — a lot — but you’d just missed him extra this week when he’d been so busy with work. he sighed, running a hand across his jaw before leaning over and kissing the back of your head to let you know he wasn’t mad. you didn’t roll over to cuddle him that night.

sunday came, and now he had energy. you were still running around, chaos incarnate — but this time you were avoiding him. hell, he even heard you talking to yourself in the kitchen rather than talking to him. he sighed, walking in. it was hard to ignore him. he looked good, black tshirt and black cargos that fit him just right, tongue running over his snakebite piercings. you faced the counter, going to turn away but he catches your arm anyway.

“come on, crazy.” he nods in his direction anyway, and you let him tug you lightly even if you were aggressively pouting, guiding you to the bedroom.

he’s kissing you, all over — which would be sweet, but there’s a roughness to his hands, manhandling you in a way that leaves you a little awestruck. “can give you what you need today. that alright with you, miss attitude?” he chuckles and you nod feverishly — letting him undress you as you start to melt into that warm submissive space. you weren’t expecting this, but god were you craving it.

after making you cum on his fingers, and then his tongue, he’s got you in a mating press — swollen, overstimulated pussy sucking him in greedily as he rolls his hips into yours, gripping them to pull you on and off him. you cry, cheeks already sodden with tears and he shakes his head and kisses your cheeks, only fucking you harder.

“i don’t want your tears today, pretty girl. i just want you to sleep well tonight.” he grumbles in your ear and you whine, the both of you knowing you were gonna cry anyway, mostly because you felt so well looked after. “you’re doing good sweetheart, just a little more yeah? need to make sure you’re out for the count. this is what you wanted huh?” he sits up a little on his knees so he can use his hips to really get in there, holding your legs up to make sure he’s hitting the right spot. your brows furrow and jaw drops and he nods to himself. “atta girl, nearly there. you gonna be my calm, well behaved, good girl after this? after i pump some babies up in there?” his voice gets a little more desperate and you know he’s close.

“mhm! please!”

“alright baby, alright. give me one more then. there you go.” he soothes his coarse thumb over your clit and rubs you— making sure you get one last go before he fills you to the brim.

[coryosmin]

stressed out - best friend coryo x reader

You and Coryo had always been close friends. Having grown up together in the Capitol and used to depending on each other for emotional support. Though it was almost always you supporting him emotionally. Which is why it was weird for him when you had actually blown up at him.

It was exam season in the Academy. With exams came stress though Coriolanus had nothing to stress about. He never missed a class, always took decent notes, made sure to do well on all of his homework. I mean, the future President of Panem must do well in order to run the country someday. You on the other hand, though you were as perfect as Coriolanus, you struggled with a few of your classes. Mostly just in your math classes but regardless, you were stressed out.

You spent most of your days studying, ignoring any attempts at people trying to interact with you. You needed to do well in order to get a high grade. And math was your absolute worst subject. So when Coriolanus, who felt neglected, walked into the empty classroom that you were studying in, you felt annoyed. He knew you needed to focus. He knew you needed to study and receive a very good grade. You had told him numerous of times.

“Coriolanus, how many times have I told you that I don’t have time to hang out?” You said, annoyed as you look up from your work. You looked exhausted, anyone could see that. But Coriolanus knew that it ran deeper than just normal exhaustion.

“Just wanted to see if you needed any help.” He said simply.

You rolled your eyes, clearly irritated. “I don’t need any help,” You said harshly. “I just need to focus on studying so I can pass the exam tomorrow without everyone bombarding me!”

Your family had high expectations of you which added to your stress. Your mother wanting you to have very high grades so that you can become something of yourself. It was a lot of pressure, constantly being told you’re not doing good enough in her standards. You couldn’t help raising your voice.

Coriolanus frowned when you raised your voice at him. “I understand you’re stressed but there’s no need to take it out on me, Y/N.” He exclaimed, furrowing his eyebrows.

You shook your head. “I’ve been focusing so much on trying to study and it’s not good enough. My grades aren’t good enough,” You exclaimed, your eyes watering. “My mother is still saying I’m worthless because I’m not doing good and I-” Your voice cracked as you began to cry, unable to help it when you let out a sob.

Coriolanus’s eyes widened as he saw you crying. Of course he’s seen you cry numerous times before but he’s never really quite sure of what to do. Usually, you calm yourself down before he has to do anything but this wasn’t the case as you continued your sobs. He was frozen for a moment, trying to think of what the best course of action would be. He could just leave the room to allow you time to collect yourself. But wouldn’t that make him a bad friend? Anytime Coriolanus had a similar moment, you always comforted him by holding him, running a hand through his curls, whispering sweet things into his ear. Should he do the same?

He stepped forward, walking over to you and taking a seat right beside you as you hid your face with your hands as you cried. He stiffly put an arm around you, bringing you closer to him. You leaned into him, immediately resting your head on his shoulder as you continued your sobs. You felt embarrassed crying in front of Coryo even if he’s your best friend. Coriolanus took a deep breath before he relaxed, wrapping his other arm around you, his hand resting on your head.

“It’s okay,” He murmured, holding you tightly against him. “You work so hard.” His voice was soft and comforting as he spoke to you, moving his fingers in your hair. “Your mother will likely never be happy with what you do, even if you get the highest grades or end up with the world’s best profession. And that’s okay.” Coriolanus continued to speak, rocking you slightly like you would with him when he was down. “I think you’re doing great. And if you’re really struggling, it never hurts to ask for help, okay? I can help you.”

You didn’t reply as you tried to just focus on his words. You sniffled, trying to calm yourself down.

“I’m here for you, okay?” Coriolanus murmured, pressing a kiss into your hair. And so, maybe everything will be okay.

[hauntedhokage]

at 1am

Nanami Kento/Reader (no pronouns)

word count: 665

warnings: angst, hurt no comfort

[crossposted to ao3] [prompt list]

He was late again. Absurdly late, this time, and the pristine kitchen tells him that you were feeling a way about it but didn’t want to call him. Which meant you had been crying, because that was mostly when you cried you didn’t want to talk to him. 

The half melted candles in the trash did a great job of telling him how long you’d waited, since they’d been sitting in the cabinet to wait for a special occasion so he knew they’d been burning for at least an hour until you gave up on the ambience - gave up on him - and started cleaning up. He wasn’t going to ruin your tidy kitchen, so instead he quietly makes his way through the apartment to get to the bedroom. 

He’s concerned when it’s empty. You’re not asleep, not sitting up in bed with a book waiting for him to be subjected to your frustrated glare, just the neatly made bed. The concern bubbles into fear when he enters the bathroom and sees most of your grooming supplies gone. No hair supplies, no toothbrush, body wash and shampoo all gone with just a note taped to the mirror that he didn’t bother to open.

When he pulls his phone from his pocket he catches the time, and he didn’t realize that it was that late. 1:15am stares back at him, covering part of your forehead in the picture that was his lockscreen. You should be asleep, but something tells him that you’re not and he runs the gamble of calling to see where you were.

Four rings, then he’s sent to voicemail. You were awake when you should have been sleeping, almost like you were waiting for him.

So he calls again. This time you answer after two rings. 

“So I exist now?”

“Where are you?” He knows better than to feed into your emotions when you’re mad at him. He knows that meeting your emotion with his own will only cause more problems, and any hope for an objective conversation would be gone for at least a week. “I just got home.”

“Don’t call it your home, Kento. You and I both know that your home is that office.” 

“My home is with you, that’s why I’m working so hard to ensure that you’re taken care of.”

“So you skip our anniversary dinner? It’s after 1am and you’re just now getting back!?”

You were getting more emotional, and he actually doesn’t know how to fix it if he’s not looking at you. Usually he could defuse the bomb with eye contact as he spoke to you, you could see the sincerity in his words and believe him. But he also supposed after a while he couldn’t expect that to continue to work if his behavior wasn’t changing. 

“Please tell me where you are.”

“I don’t want to see you.”

“I’ll stay home. I just want to know that you’re somewhere safe.”

“I’m at a hotel. The one with the nice restaurant you took me to.” He nods, although you can’t see it as he’s writing the name down. He’d call in the morning to have breakfast sent to your room, it was the least he could do. “Do you love me, Kento?”

You’re tired and upset, obviously not thinking clearly if you’re asking him a question like that. But he supposed he understood why you’d ask. It hadn’t been just this dinner, after all. Repeated habits say a lot about a person, he just hates that it gives you a question like that. 

“Of course I love you.”

“Start acting like it.” You’ve hung up on him, ending the conversation with a simple directive that feels like a knife in his heart.  No declaration of love for him, no request that he drink some water or sleep well, just a directive that was so unlike you but he knows that he pushed you to that point. You were hurt, and he could only blame himself for that.

[kitkats-and-kittens]

I know stan culture is a huge part of fandom and while yes, sometimes I find it annoying it doesn’t really hurt anyone, so I find it okay.

That said I need words with Percy Jackson and Tim Drake stans, because I am sick and tired 😭😭.

I was scrolling through the Will Solace tag because he is my baby and I will defend him for life and obviously as consequence I see a lot of artwork about the battle of Manhattan and all the angst that comes along with it.

I don’t usually see people blaming Percy for Michael’s death which is fine cause it absolutely wasn’t Percy’s fault, even if I personally don’t believe a 12 year old would be mature enough to see it that way.

Still, I saw a post talking about how sad it was that Will got dragged away to heal Annabeth and couldn’t help the Apollo Cabin search for his bother. It was mostly going into detail about how he might feel responsible for not being there when most of his siblings died.

And I thought wow, that’s really angsty and then I went to the comments and the first thing I saw was a Percy Jackson fan saying it’s not Percy’s fault and Will should get over it because it’s war and shit happens.

Like hello? That is a 12 year old??? No one’s saying it was Percy’s fault, but how the hell do you expect a literal 12 year old to get over his brothers death seconds after it happened?!?!

And again in Dc comics.

This happens way too often, but specially in that one scene where Damian finds out Tim has him on like this hit list-contingency plan thing and obviously he gets upset, because he sees it as Tim still punishing him over something he is trying really hard to redeem himself for.

And then I look at the comments and someone’s going.

Well Damian shouldn’t be upset, his actions have consequences and he was the one that broke into Tim’s computer. He shouldn’t get mad.

He’s 10???? Have you met children? Have you met a 10 year old?? They call you names and bully you but the moment you turn it back on them they start crying. Why? Cause they’re 10!

I don’t understand the disconnect some people have when trying to understand children. Like hasn’t everybody been a child? They aren’t mature enough to handle big emotions and nuanced situations cause they don’t have a frontal lobe yet.

I really don’t understand how anyone can get mad at the child character for not being ‘mature enough’ to handle a situation and it drives me insane.

[kommandonuovidiavoli]

Like a Vase [Mourning AU FANFIC]

When Irwin arrived at the site, he looked around to make sure no one would attack him out of nowhere.

He noticed the little figure of a girl in the distance, looking at something in front of herself. 

He didn’t move at first, not wanting to disturb her. But she did need to know about his presence if they wanted to avoid any problems.

“Hey-” The man called, voice softer than normal to not attract anyone else’s attention. “Is it safe?” He asked.

“... I think so…” The girl replied with a dull tone. 

“Can I walk up there?”

“... yes.”

After looking around himself again, Irwin carefully made his way up to where the girl stood. His feet stepping on fallen leaves didn’t make the crunching noise someone might expect; it must’ve rained recently. It seemed like it rained a lot in that place.

Irwin stopped right next to the girl, looking down at where her sad eyes pointed.

Two little graves. Too little to even exist. The man sighed to himself, all kinds of emotions going through his head and heart at once, but he needed to push them back. He couldn’t do anything for… them.

But he could try and help her.

“How are things going?” He asked, actually worried. The last time he visited it was almost three months before, which might seem a short period for an adult. But for a kid, a hurting kid, that might’ve seemed an eternity. 

The girl shrugged, not answering his question. So it wasn’t going well, he imagined. He let out another long sigh, mostly because it hurt him to see kids like that.

“How are you doing?” He switched the subject to the person he had right there, hoping that that new, personal question would get an answer.

There was a brief silence before he heard the girl finally reply to him.

“It hurts… it still hurts a lot…” She was about to cry, that was obvious.

Before he could do anything, the girl looked up at him. Yes, there were tears in her eyes, already.

“You said it would pass…”

“Yeah, I did say that…” And it was a big mistake; kids are not very good with patience and waiting.

“When does that happen?”

“... I’m not sure… I’m sorry…”

He saw the little girl’s eyes filling with more tears; he didn’t even know kids could hold so many in their tiny eyes.

Irwin sighed again and put a hand on her head, trying to somehow comfort her without being too invasive. Especially in that place where anyone could spot them.

“What are you doing?”

Talking about the wolf.

The girl quickly turned around to where the voice came from, involuntarily pushing Irwin’s hand away from her head. Well, he was pulling it away anyway after hearing that voice; the last thing he wanted was for her to be in trouble. Even if… it was a bit too late for that, now.

But he made sure to monitor the situation as it was going to unfold.

There was a short silence, and he didn’t dare to turn around just yet. 

“I… was just…”

“I told you to keep this place clear.”

“I was…”

“Then why is someone here? And an adult, of any people.”

The girl gulped, looking up at Irwin to find a good explanation for that. Irwin met her eyes and just nodded, as to give her permission to tell the truth. Something really rare around their sector in those times.

“He’s a friend… he helped us already, so I thought-”

“You don’t need to THINK.” The other kid replied, harshly. A bit too harsh. “I do that. All you need to do is follow my orders, and I ordered you to keep this place CLEAR from ANYONE!”

“But Tyler–” 

“It’s Numbuh 412.”

“No one wants to harm them anymore!” She tried to explain, her voice breaking from the words that just came out of her mouth. She stopped for a moment, actually realizing what she just said.

Was… that it? Was that why he was so overprotective?

The other kid’s face was filling with rage once more. It was the norm lately.

“What did you just say?” He asked in a low, menacing tone, which made the girl step back. 

Irwin reached an arm and grabbed her shoulder, as to somehow tell her she wasn’t alone, and she was ok. It hurt him to see her like that. You shouldn’t be scared of your leader.

“I… said what I said.” Here she was; the little fighter he met some months before. “None of the people who came here and STILL try to come here want to harm them. Carol, Aiden, Gianna, Reyna, Sector BI… They want to pay respects! They want closure, one last goodbye, l-like– like THE ONE WE STILL CAN’T EVEN GIVE THEM BECAUSE YOU–”

“Watch it!” The boy said, stepping closer to the girl. “You dare say another heresy and I swear things are not gonna end well!”

That was it.

Irwin turned around and stepped between them; his arms down his sides, ready to reach if necessary, his legs half closed so no one could sneak past them.

The boy had in front of him an imposing, unsurpassable mountain staring down at him with a cold, stern eye. 

“Move.” The boy demanded, but Irwin stood his ground between him and the girl who didn’t dare to step away from behind him. When he saw the man was not moving, the boy tried to push him away, without result.

“Move! I SAID MOVE! MOVE, NOW!!” he started screaming, pushing harder, but the man wouldn’t even budge from his spot, looking down at him- but his gaze was not sad.

He didn’t want to see kids like that. Hurting like that. Not wanting any help and not realizing they were hurting everyone else with their pain. As if the others weren’t hurting already on their own.

“Tyler…” he tried to call his attention, but the boy kept pushing and pulling, trying to move him from his spot. He tried to call him one more time, but nothing seemed to work.

“TYLER!”

Another voice joined the group as another boy ran up to them, seeming a bit restless. He stopped as he saw the scene, not understanding what was going on.

“Uhm… Tyler…” he tried to call again, and finally, he got his attention.

“IT’S NUMBUH 412!!”

“N-numbuh 412…” the other boy corrected himself, trying to keep the situation as calm as possible. “We… g-got another… call… from Moonbase… they’re asking for a report on our… situation…”

Finally, the kid stopped his useless fight and calmed a bit, standing up and looking at his… friend? Were they even friends, anymore?

“I told you I don’t want to talk to them.”

“I know… but they’re insisting on this… please…”

The leader growled, frustrated, starting to walk in the direction of the other boy and the big treehouse towering over the whole place. But before entering their headquarters, he turned around, pointing at Irwin and his "little sidekick".

“I WANT HIM OUT OF HERE! THIS IS AN ORDER!” and with that, he got inside.

The other boy looked at the girl, exchanging a mutually understood feeling, then turning to Irwin and mouthing an “I’m sorry” before following his leader inside.

Irwin let out his fourth sigh of the day. That was gonna be hard to explain to his superior.

“Are you gonna tell on us?” The girl asked with a weak, shaky voice.

And there came the fifth sigh. Almost a record.

“Tell who?” The man asked, trying to keep his play up. But it was over, at least for that Sector. He couldn’t hold up that stupid “kid in an adult body” lie around them anymore.

“... other adults…” the girl quickly grabbed his clothes, holding on to them as to stop him from going anywhere. “I don’t want to lose them as well… they’re all I have left… please…”

Sixth.

“I can understand your feelings. But you need to understand that this is NOT okay. This is NOT healthy for any of you kids.”

“Please Tito…” she tried again, holding tighter on him.

Seventh.

“I…” what was he supposed to do? He understood their feelings, he understood the need to solve things alone. He went through that, even if it was different circumstances.

But they didn’t realize how bad it was around them. How many people were hurting and how things were getting worse by the day because of their actions. Well, mostly because of the actions of one of them.

Their leader.

Eighth.

He finally turned around and knelt down to look the girl in the eyes.

“I will do my best to… maybe invent some story and give you more time to calm down, talk, and find a way out of this mess. But if things get worse… I need to think about the other kids, as well, you understand?”

The girl nodded slightly.

“It’s not fair to make other people suffer because you are suffering. And I think you know that too well, right?” He nodded back at the treehouse, clearly addressing her leader. He finally put a hand on her head, slowly rubbing it.

“You’re strong. I know you are. And I know your friends are, too. You do what you can, Phoebe, but don’t allow anyone to step on you and your feelings because of their pain. Stand your ground.”

“B-but what if I end up losing them?”

“It might be necessary, but it will be temporarily. I’m not saying to step away from them if you don’t want to. You can keep being with them if you feel it’s right. One day they will understand, and they will get back to you. But if nothing around here changes, if YOU don’t start changing… it’s impossible to move on.” He smiled warmly, noticing then one of the vases on the graves behind her had fallen over at some point, spilling the water inside and scattering the flowers on the ground.

He stood up and walked next to it, not doing anything for it, but looking down so that the girl could notice it as well.

“Think of yourself like this vase. You are down, everything spilling out, and flowers seem fine but they are already missing water. You can stay like this. You can stay down and just wait for someone to pick you up. But can flowers wait for that long?”

He watched as the girl looked at the vase, probably thinking about what to do. As he expected, it didn’t take long for her to go pick the vase up and put the flowers back in, making sure they had enough water. Satisfied with her work, she looked at the grave she had put the vase back on.

It was hers.

She smiled sadly; of course, she would do that to help her.

Irwin smiled at her. “Pick yourself up, kid. I don’t think your friends here like to see your guys like that, too.”

“He won’t listen to me…”

“Then make sure to scream loud enough for him to finally listen. If needed, pick his vase up and show him you’re there for him.”

Without another word, Irwin found those little arms hugging him, and he couldn’t do anything but do the same with her. He could feel his shirt getting wet, but he didn’t care.

It was going to rain again pretty soon.

----

Ahaha, what a nice, short 5 pages fic, right guys???

Anyway, of course, it was for @artsygirl0315, who actually already read this but now it has COLORS!!!

CREDITS:

Mourning AU by @artsygirl0315

Carol and Aiden by @kandykatz

Gianna by @numbuh-72

Reyna by @numbuhinfinitys

Sector BI by @some-loozzr

Irwin by my stupid a$$

[class1akids]

Nonnie asked: Is there a reason you’ve become so hostile towards Deku and Bakugou? Is it because the two main characters of the show get the spotlight main characters usually get? Or because All Might doesn’t pay as much attention to Shouto as he does to the other two, who have been set up from the early chapters to be his successors? It just seems unfair that ppl are hating the fact that Bakugou shared the title of ‘greatest hero’ when this has been set up from the start?

I've been hesitating whether to reply this bait question, but here it goes fwiw:

1. I'm not hostile to Deku and Bakugou as characters, but I have criticism of how the story handles them as of late. It's not the same. I think their dynamic was interesting until the apology chapter, but there was nothing truly interesting Hori managed to do with their dynamic after that, imho. They both had potential to have interesting dynamic with others (Deku with Shigaraki in particular), but in the end the writing remained pretty lackluster all around. 

2. I really really dislike interacting with the arrogant and entitled shipping fandom and have been making a lot of efforts to mute it / avoid it. That’s not the same as hating the characters. 

3. Btw, MHA has one MC - it's Deku. Then it has a main cast which prominently includes Bakugou, but also includes many other characters. Fans of those characters have also been given legitimate expectations (like the villains being saved, for example) for both spotlight and pay-off and have every right to criticize the story for not delivering on it. I’m sick of you guys pretending that every other character is “background”. 

4. I'm mostly laughing at the "greatest heroes" stuff, because it's not about the "set-up", it's about the delivery. I have a really hard time seeing in what way they earned the greatest heroes title especially in a chapter that talks about Deku failing his fundamental narrative challenge of saving his villain in a meaningful way, or engaging with his issues.

I can kind of stretch myself and see how the final arc brought together people whose lives he touched (or saved on EZ-mode like Gentle and Nagant) back in the days when he was a passable MC. 

Bakugou though? He was just one of a bunch of people who beat AFO. What makes him "greater" than Jirou who destabilized his quirks, than Tokoyami who smashed his helmet, than Endeavor who actually did kill him and forced him on the rewind, than Hawks, Mt Lady, Inasa, Camie, etc.? 

Everyone in this final arc faced threats they were too weak to face, yet they did it (Sero, Satou coming in to save Deku against AFO they have no hopes to survive) anyways. What makes Bakugou more exceptional? That he managed to die? Every single character pushed way past their limits (even if they didn't get the praise). 

Even All Might could only come up with "you are greatest because you saved my life" which feels a bit tone-deaf in a chapter where he also says "oh well as long as he wasn't crying anymore he’s saved - Tomura's actual life didn't matter that much". 

5. So I'm bitter, because I actually like Bakugou's character and care deeply about him and wanted him to be greatest in a satisfying way. But to me, his endgame felt seriously lacking. 

He's a charismatic character that could have inspired many and he's smart so he could have worked great with others. But instead, he had been once again made a damsel, his team was sacrificed for him and he barely acknowledged that and even this chapter says "yeah, he did all these awesome things, we don't really know how because it was all asspull, but isn't he magnificent?" 

So I deeply resent that the final arc made Bakugou look like the creator's pet the fandom always accused him of being. Lots of glaze, but actually very little substance. To me at least it wasn't satisfying. 

 6. As for Shouto - I honestly don't care about All Might anymore. I've always felt so-so about his character, but I was interested in the "deconstruction", for the story to tell us how his system was untenable.  Well, the final arc also destroyed any deconstruction his character and the society he built may have had, basically validating his reign as the Symbol of Peace and arbiter of Greatest Hero gold stars, as well as Most Important Life To Be Saved (tm). 

 Shouto's arc is about validating and affirming his own reasons for existence, defining what his power is and I don't need All Might to tell me that how great he is. I think his actions, as well as the hundreds of lives he saved speak loud enough.  I do resent shit like Hori offscreening him in Ch 422 only to offscreen him again for Bakugou in 423, but like I guess in the grand scheme of things, we don't really need a scene to know he'll support his friends to his last breath, because that's like a given for his character. 

 At this point, all I'm hoping for is that he will get a fitting narrative conclusion - even if it's just a hug from his mom, and not have another writing fumble destroy his character arc. Shouto will always be an icon for people who understand and respect his journey and his quiet heroism.   [Smile or comment on the answer here](https://retrospring.net/@class1akids/a/112534216876296276)

[steddieas-shegoes]

Headcanons: insecure Steve?????

He didn’t get into college.

It shouldn’t have come as a shock, but for some reason, he thought he’d get into at least one he applied to.

Looked like he’d be spending his summer trying to figure out a backup.

But for now, he was going to cry about it at Skull Rock.

His previous make out spot had turned into the spot he went to think, which mostly led to crying alone.

It was stupid, really.

Especially when he heard footsteps coming, sticks crunching under feet.

He quickly wiped at his eyes, keeping his face buried as much as he could in hopes the person would walk away.

“Oh. Sorry. Didn’t know someone would be here.”

Steve looked up at the voice.

He knew that voice, but this was the last place he expected to hear it.

Eddie Munson stared up at him from the ground, just as shocked to see him as he was.

“Why are you here?”

“Uh. Couldn’t meet at school today so figured I’d meet my customers here.”

“Other people are here?”

“They will be.” Eddie cleared his throat. “You okay man?”

Steve nodded, though he knew it probably didn’t look very convincing.

“You don’t seem okay.”

“Then why did you ask?”

Steve didn’t mean to snap at him. He had nothing personal against Eddie, not like so many of the jocks seemed to. He just wasn’t in the mood.

“Not everyday you see the King of Hawkins crying on Skull Rock. Figured it must be pretty serious.”

Steve hopped down, figured he could probably escape and cry in the privacy of his own home now. Maybe let himself think about all the ways he let everyone down on the drive there.

“Yeah, well. Not having a future is pretty serious.”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t get into any colleges. Probably won’t live to see my next birthday when my dad finds out. Everyone I care about is smart and will leave. I’ll be here. Probably working dead end jobs forever.”

Eddie came closer to him.

Steve resisted backing up.

He was too tired to pretend he really cared about anything right now.

“You know, it’s not the end of the world to have one shitty thing happen. You’ve got lots of resources, man. You’ll figure something out.”

“Doubtful. My resources are my dad’s money, which will stop the second he finds out I’m an idiot and useless and couldn’t even get into a state school.”

Eddie’s forehead creased, mouth turning further into a frown.

“You don’t actually believe that you’re useless, do you?”

Steve shrugged.

“C’mon man. You’re not useless. Everyone has a purpose. Maybe you haven’t found yours yet, or maybe you don’t realize what it is, but it’s there.”

Steve remained silent as Eddie got closer.

“College isn’t for everyone. Maybe you have something better waiting to happen.”

Eddie gave him a comforting smile, and placed his hand on his shoulder for a moment.

“Yeah. Maybe. I guess.”

“There ya go! That’s kinda the spirit!”

Steve let out a small but genuine laugh.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah, Harrington. Don’t make a habit of crying where I’m working, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

As Steve walked away, he couldn’t help but think about how easy it was for Eddie to make him feel better.

How he had no reason to help, but did.

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 17

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Em is on a date with Nicole when he learns about Y/N’s attack at the bar.

CW : Hospital

MARSHALL’S POV

Marshall was spending the evening at Nicole’s for their fourth date. They planned on having dinner and watching a movie, as they had done for their previous date nights. Granted, that wasn’t really original, but in his position, his options were kind of limited. He wished he could go places for dates, but it was a whole organization. He usually had to rent out the places he wanted to go to and have his security team nearby, which was sort of uncomfortable if he wanted to get to know someone “the normal way”. If he wanted to build a genuine connection with someone, it was better not do anything screaming “I’m a famous millionaire rapper and I can’t go anywhere without the risk of being harassed”. Thankfully, Nicole seemed happy with their simple dates. That was one of the many things he liked about her : she had simple taste and she was real with him. A common misconception that people had about him was that it was easy for him to date. He could certainly have a lot of opportunities with the ladies if he wanted to, but the ones who threw themselves at him were usually the type he disliked the most : attracted to him because of his name, his fortune, his fame, expecting him to take them to all sorts of fancy places and introducing them to famous people… After his second divorce from Kim, he had figured out he would never really find love again. For years, he didn’t get involved in relationships, choosing to focus on raising his children, working on his sobriety and making music. Sure, he’d had a few encounters, but never serious ones. He had made a point not to. And the couple of times he gave it a try, he ended up getting hurt. As he had entered his fifties, he was pretty sure he was going to end up alone. In truth, he didn’t mind that much. He was lucky enough to have a great family he was close to, including his ex wife, as well as amazing friends (who were basically like family anyway). Women were pretty much an afterthought. At least, that was the case before he met Y/N. In a matter of months, she had become one of the most important persons in his life.

From the first time they met, he took a liking towards her. Sure, she was beautiful, but it wasn’t the only reason. There was something about the way she carried herself and how she acted. She was always nice, respectful, sweet and kind. She had a very calm aura, a far cry from a lot of the girls who had come to the studio before. To the point where he had actually instigated a rule : no girls unless they’re long-time partners or family. He was almost pissed when Jamal asked to make an exception for his new roommate, but Talia assured him that Y/N would not be an inconvenience. She was apparently coming out of the hospital after an OD and would live with them for a few months, until she got better. And they were right : she was far from inconvenient. At first, she was barely noticeable, keeping to herself, scared to intrude. When he saw her for the first time, mindlessly playing with her NA chip, he had felt the urge to make her feel at ease, because he knew how stressful those first moments in a sobriety journey could be. He had been there. On that first day, he got to know her and felt drawn to her. For the first time in ages, he could relate to someone. And as weeks went by, he got to know her better, not as an addict, but as a person. She turned out to be extremely spirited, funny, with a sharp wit. It felt like they could talk about anything : she was educated and knew a lot about different topics, and the one she knew nothing about, she was interested in. Another thing he really enjoyed about hanging out with her is that she almost had no idea who he was. She acted insanely normal around him and asked him questions most people never did, mostly because they knew the answers from his interviews or his Wikipedia page. She didn’t. So even talking about something as trivial as their favorite TV shows or the place they grew up was extremely enjoyable. In a matter of months, he became best friends with her, which was as challenging as it was fun. It soon became clear that they were attracted to each other, on a night where he was having dinner at her place and they almost ended up in bed together. But it hadn’t seemed like a great idea : as insanely attractive as she was, no matter how horny she made him, she was too young for him (she could be his daughter, for God’s sake), she was just getting out of a relationship and starting to recover from addiction. For the most part, he managed to keep things friendly, which hadn’t been without trials. Even if he was trying to do the right thing, he was just a man and knowing Y/N was attracted to him drove him crazy. But after a few months of being emotionally and physically close and caring for her, he ended up giving up on his principles and considering dating her. However, this was cut short when they had their first argument.

To be fair, he was the one who fucked up, there was no denying that. But things had escalated and gotten ugly when she threw his past emotionally abusive relationship in his face and he responded very poorly by calling her a junkie and a whore, as well as suggesting that it would have been better if she had died from an overdose. In the span of a few minutes, he was brought back to the person he vowed not to be anymore. After a few weeks of thinking, he came to understand that Y/N had way too much power over him. With her, he could either be the very best or the very worst version of himself. It seemed like there was no in-between. Sure, that would make for great songs, but he didn’t actually want this, no matter how much he wanted her. Spending a month apart from her made him realize how much he cared about her, how much she meant to him, so forgiving her for hurting him was a no-brainer. But that was the thing : he wanted to be there for her, care for her, provide her with everything she could ever need, and he knew he couldn’t do that if he risked turning into the world’s biggest asshole every time they had an argument. Things were safer if they remained best friends, as there would be much less at stake. They would still be close, still be there for each other, and even though it hurt a bit, he was ready to renounce the possibility of making her his if it meant that they wouldn’t hurt each other. That was how much she meant to him. And when Hailie offered to set him up on a date with Nicole, it was a welcome distraction. He figured it wouldn’t hurt as much if he was focused on dating someone, which would also give him actual reasons not to give in on his attraction to his friend. Plus, Nicole was actually a great person.

He should have been the happiest man on earth, having found a solution to his problem, but he still found himself to be annoyed. One thing he had not taken into account was the possibility for Y/N to be with someone and how it would make him feel. Thinking back, it had been stupid on his part. Of course she was a catch, and of course she would have tons of men begging for her attention. And apparently, thanks to his own daughter, she happened to have found one that was actually worthy of her. Jury was still out, obviously, but if Y/N was to be believed, that Josh guy was pretty great. Apparently, he was going out of his way to treat her like the princess she was, showering her with flowers, gifts, cute texts and even taking her out to some cool places. Better yet, he actually understood her work (unlike himself, who wasn’t quite sure what her work entailed - because she was too fucking smart for him).

Josh was supposed to take Y/N on a double date with Hailie and Evan. Dancing. She seemed ecstatic. Apparently they had been taking dancing classes. That shit was insanely corny, but she looked so happy and cheerful that she made it look enjoyable. When he saw her walk back in the room in her black dress, his heart skipped a beat at the thought that Josh would be the one dancing with her tonight, holding her hand and taking her home. He was the one who got to do all these gestures for her, who was able to go out with her in public. Not him. And even though he hated to admit it to himself, it hurt a bit. But at the end of the day, what mattered was her being happy. And if being with Josh put a smile on her pretty face… so be it. As for him, he would try to enjoy his date night with Nicole. After all, he was still a lucky man by a lot of standards. Nicole was kind, thoughtful, laid-back and really beautiful. He would be a fool not to enjoy her company. Plus, this date was kind of a promising one. They had not slept together yet, but tonight was the night, he knew it as Nicole had hinted several times at him possibly spending the night. That wasn’t his first rodeo after all. Plus, he guessed that having sex with someone other than Y/N would be a nice distraction from his feelings.

The evening turned out to be enjoyable. He was half-naked, making out with Nicole on the couch, absolutely not paying attention to the movie that was playing, when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He didn’t answer, figuring that it wasn’t important and that, if it were, the person would call back. Which was exactly what happened. He kissed Nicole one last time before glancing at the screen. It was Hailie. She never called twice in a row, unless it was an emergency.

Is there anything wrong ? She asked as soon as she saw the frown on his face.

It’s my daughter, he said. She tried calling twice, it’s a bit unusual. Mind if I call her back ?

No, of course, go ahead, she said with a smile.

Both of them were in agreement that kids came first. She was a parent too, so she understood that perfectly. Of course, in both of their cases, the kids were grown up, but it didn’t really change anything. If anything, that was worse : grown up kids don’t call at night for no reason, unless it’s serious. He quickly put his tee-shirt back on and went to another room to call Hailie back.

Dad ? Hello ? She answered - and as soon as he heard her voice, he could tell she’d been crying.

What’s up Hay ? Anything wrong ? He asked, suddenly worried.

Dad… I need you to call Talia and Jamal, she said. Y/N was attacked.

What happened ?! He asked. Where are you ? I’m on my way, ok ?

He could feel his heart race. Thankfully, Hailie was fine. If anything, she seemed a bit shocked, but at least, she was safe. He immediately went back to the living room and grabbed his jacket.

I’m so sorry, Nic, but I have to go, he said.

What’s wrong ? She asked. Is Hailie alright ?

Y/N was attacked, apparently, I have to go and check up on her, he explained as he was putting his shoes on.

Wait… Who is Y/N ? She asked, confused.

She’s my… daughter’s friend, he replied, slightly annoyed by the question.

Oh isn’t she the one who was with you in the ER ? She recalled.

Yeah, he said. Look, I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you soon, ok ?

He quickly kissed her on the cheek and hurried out of her house and to his car before driving to the bar where Hailie was. He found his daughter crying in the arms of her boyfriend, outside of the place. They were both clearly inebriated, although he guessed that the shock had done a pretty good job in getting them to sober up. As soon as she spotted him, she hugged him.

Are you ok ? He asked.

Yes, she said, still crying. I can’t believe what happened.

Where’s Y/N ?

In an ambulance. They’re rushing her to the hospital, she replied. Josh is with her, but we’re waiting on news. I just gave my statement to the police.

What the fuck happened ? He inquired, not fully grasping the situation.

I’m not sure, Dad… We had a great night and we were dancing. She went to the bathroom and, when I went to go with her, I found her there, almost getting raped by some guy. She was unconscious, Hailie explained.

Shit, Marshall said.

She was only alone for a couple of minutes, his daughter continued with tears in her eyes. I was supposed to go with her… Dad, do you think it’s my fault ?

She continued sobbing. He gently held her and kissed her forehead.

You did nothing wrong, Hay, he said. Do you know who the guy is ?

Yes, I screamed for help and some people caught him and called the cops, she said. The police took him.

Good, he said. Come on, I’ll take you guys home.

Can we go to the hospital and check on Y/N instead ? Please ? She pleaded.

He nodded and they hopped in the car. Marshall drove as fast as he could, probably well over the speed limit. His thoughts were racing. How come she had been attacked ? Why the hell wasn’t her boyfriend here to protect her ? He had so many questions. As soon as they got out of the car, Hailie puked in the hospital’s parking lot. He frowned, but now was not the time to lecture her on her drinking. They rushed inside the ER and found Josh in the corridor, his back against the wall.

Any news ? Evan asked.

They said they’re doing some blood tests and pumping her stomach, Josh explained. She’s not waking up. They say she’s in a coma…

He had tears in his eyes and looked drunk as well.

How much did she drink tonight ? Marshall asked.

Nothing, Hailie said. She only drank mocktails.

Perhaps someone slipped something in one of her drinks when she went to get water ? Evan said.

She went alone ? Marshall asked.

Well… Yeah…, Josh mumbled.

That was it. He could not control his anger anymore. How stupid did you have to be to leave your girlfriend alone in a crowded bar full of men in heat ?! Without a second thought, Marshall shoved Josh against the wall.

You can’t even take care of her in a bar ?! He asked. How fucking retarded are you ?!

Look, I…, Josh began.

Shut up, you fucker, he spat. I swear to God, I will fucking destroy you if I find out that even one hair is missing from hear head.

Dad, Hailie pleaded - and he didn’t have to look at her to see that she was crying again. Stop, please…

He could feel his daughter and Evan try to intervene between the two of them. To be fair, Josh wasn’t putting up much of a fight. He looked absolutely terrified and seemed to be on the verge of tears. If it were up to him, if his daughter wasn’t here, Marshall would probably beat him up.

Your girlfriend almost gets raped because what ? You can’t handle your liquor ?! Fucktard, he said before letting go of him.

Dad, Hailie began, it’s not his fault.

I don’t want to hear it, Hailie, Marshall sighed. I’ll take you guys home so that you can sober up. I’ll come back and check on her, ok ?

Hailie and Evan nodded, not discussing his orders.

I’ll stay here, Josh said.

Man, you’re cross-eyed and you can’t stand still, Marshall groaned. If anything, you should be lying in one of the beds. You’re not going to be of much use. I’ll take you home.

Josh ended up agreeing and he took all of them to Hailie’s. His daughter seemed to be a little mad at him for threatening her friend. As much as he hated to see her displeased, he didn’t care too much at that moment. She could give him shit later if she wanted, when she was sobered up. He made sure they got home and he drove back to the hospital. He saw a nurse in the corridor and inquired about Y/N’s state.

I am sorry, but I am not at liberty to divulge this information, she said. Are you family ?

Yeah, he lied through his teeth. I’m her… uncle.

Well, her stomach was pumped and we’re waiting on the results from the blood tests right now. It may take a few hours. For now, all I can say is that it looks like she’s been drugged. We’ve had a lot of similar cases lately, the nurse said.

Is she going to be alright ? He asked. I mean… She’s going to wake up… right ?

She is, she reassured him. But we don’t know how much is in her system, or what it is exactly. So, depending, it might be in a few hours, just like it might be in a few days. We’re keeping a close eye on her. We are monitoring her heart and oxygen levels. So far, the vitals are good.

Thank God, he sighed in relief. What room is she in ?

Sir, visiting hours are over, she said.

He looked at her and crossed his arms, showing he had absolutely no intention of leaving the hospital. Still, she didn’t budge.

You can leave your number at the front desk and we’ll keep you informed, she offered.

She’s not waking up alone in a hospital room, he scoffed.

Sir, the rules are the…

Look, I get that you’re trying to do your job, I do, he said, but I’m not moving. You can call security, the police or whoever the fuck you want. I am not moving. If need be, I will sleep on the goddamn floor, but I am not leaving her alone for one fucking second. I don’t care what it takes, how much money I have to donate to this hospital, I am staying.

Sir, she said sternly.

Please ? He pleaded. She’s scared of hospitals.

Fine, she said. Room 457. Do not try to wake her.

Thank you.

Marshall quickly found the room and, upon entering, he found her lying in bed. They had changed her into a hospital gown. Her makeup was all smudged and she had a few bruises on her arms. The running mascara on her face was enough to know that she’d cried. His heart sank as he saw her lying there. He imagined how scared she must have been. His heart was pounding in his chest. He approached her and couldn’t help but check that she was actually breathing. Thank God, she was. He gently stroked her cheek and took her hand in his as he sat in the chair next to the bed.

Y/N, he said softly. It’s me, Marshall. You’re alright, ok ? You’re safe. I’m here, and I’m not leaving this place without you, alright ?

He knew she probably couldn’t hear him, but he felt the need to talk to her anyway, on the off chance she would. Deep down, he hoped that hearing a familiar voice would help. But of course, she didn’t move. He sighed and stroked her hand.

They say you’re going to be fine, he added, overcome with emotion. They better be right. I guess just… Hang in here, ok ? Can you do that for me ?

He gently kissed her hand.

I’m so sorry, he said as he let a tear roll down on his cheek. I wish I had been the one to take you dancing. I wish I could have been there to protect you. Y/N, you have no idea how much… how much I love you, he whispered.

[moonshineplaydate]

Well, as (sorta promised), here are some of my other Hazbin Hotel Age Regression headcanons! I say sort of as I most likely won’t include Sir Pentious, and I’ll just bunch him in with the other miscellaneous characters that I like! Sorry about that but regardless, let’s go on with the show!

Hazbin Hotel Age Regression Headcanons, Part 2.

Alastor, The Radio Demon

•No one really knows what his deal is, I mean, the dude’s from the 30’s, he’s like prehistoric. No one expected him to know what age regression was, let alone indulge it.

•That was until he was seen casually taking care of a regressed Niffty, playing with her in the living room of the hotel.

‘Why, of course I know what regression, how else would I be taking care of this little darling Niffty here?’

•He just left at that, he didn’t explain much, people just accepted it as a fact of life.

•From what people have seen, he’s entirely a caregiver, mostly for Niffty but sometimes watches over Charlie if he’s feeling up for it.

•He likes talking to littles, but not in the same way Charlie does, he mainly acts like he’s gossiping with her.

‘Abababababa!’

‘(Gasp), I cannot believe she said that, she really shouldn’t be talking, I wish I had her confidence.’

•Alastor doesn’t like being touched, and that stays true with littles. He has no problem grabbing them or holding them, but touching him is where the line is drawn.

•The most he’ll do is let them hold his hand if they’re scared.

•Has to be reminded not to accidentally spook the little with any of his…everything.

•Has no idea what to do if a little starts crying and just dumps them onto Husk. Or, he’ll use his microphone to play some soothing music for them, which sometimes works.

•Also, he makes the best food for his littles, I’ve always believed Alastor is an amazing cook and he can make practically anything a little wants!

•He calls littles, ‘Tiny Demons, Deerlings, Little Shadow, Princess (Charlie specific).

•Won’t really admit it but he likes taking care of littles. Even if it’s his ‘duty’ as manager of the hotel, he has a genuine liking to them.

•He’s not the safest with littles, he keeps them sheltered from most of Hell, because it’s Hell and that place sucks, but would honestly just watch if they climbed up some place high or played with a knife.

•Alastor keeps makes his shadows watch them at all times though, in case they seem like they’ll really hurt themself.

•He’ll also kill and or eat anyone who so much as makes one of his littles cry, not in front of them of course.

•No one knows if Alastor regresses or not, people are too scared to ask him, so they go to Husker but even he doesn’t know. Alastor is an enigma, after all.

Husker

•Husker is a caregiver! He never felt a need to be little, and really really took a long time to understand it.

•It took a while to wrap his head around the fact that people actually felt like a child when they were little, and weren’t just acting.

•He sort of understood it with Niffty, but really understood it with Angel. He always thought Angel was fake but could recognise that the way he acted when he was small but anything but.

•It was kinda like a moment where everything clicked for him.

•He wasn’t really interested in being a caregiver or looking after kids, by all accounts, he hates them.

•Still, Husk acts as a de facto babysitter of the hotel, especially if the littles just need some time to chill. Other people can be a liiittle hyper.

•So, Husker was stuck with a bunch of kids a lot of the time, he wasn’t exactly a fan but he didn’t hate it either.

•Once he learned how to take care of them mostly, keeping their little gear on hand (he has a bunch of bottles, juice and milk in the bar for them), giving them attention, he got the hang of it.

•He really cannot deal with tantrums though, and has to find someone else to before he ends up snapping at them which he wouldn’t want.

•He has the kind of vibe of a babysitter that’s just honest with the kids he babysits, and finds it amusing to lie to them about little things.

‘Hu-Husk, why are you a c-cat?’

‘It’s cause I ate a bunch of fur when I was alive.’

•It’s comedy gold to him.

•He never acts mean to littles, just a little blunt at times.

•Isn’t the best at handling crying but still tries, he doesn’t really do bottle feeding but he’ll do his best to calm a little down!

Niffty

•I imagine Niffty as a total regressor, I don’t think she’d be one for taking care of others!

•Her age range can be anywhere from 2-5!

•Her regression is mostly voluntary though sometimes she slips without even realising.

•She’s very hyper when she’s little, usually talking very fast and bouncing around the place!

•She loves piggy back rides, it makes her feel tall! Her favourite thing to do is get a piggy back ride off Husk and have him fly her around!

•She calls Husker ‘kitty’ when he’s regressed; Alastor’s her dada and Charlie’s her mama!

•Niffty finds Alastor more fun and prefers hanging out with him, but Charlie can be more comforting at times!

•Being taken care of by the two of them is like a dream for her, or when she gets to have play dates with a little Charlie.

•With Husker though, she finds him a bit boring but loves being able to blabber at him for hours and hours.

•She can talk fairly well when she’s a slightly bigger age but when she’s really tiny, it’s mostly babbles.

•Niffty doesn’t have that much little gear, she has this horrifying stitched together plushie that no one can really tell what it’s supposed to be, along with a red and black paci that Alastor got for her! She also has a pair of white PJ’s with light purple tints to them!

•She doesn’t really care for touch when she’s little, but she loves receiving gifts, usually sweets though; she goes absolutely insane for anything with sugar!

•Husker had to put a lock on one of cabinets as Niffty got in one time and ate half a bag of sugar.

•The one thing she hates about and gets fussy over is nap time, she always tries to weasel her way out of it and claim she’s not tired even if she’s actively fighting to stay awake.

•This usually goes on until Charlie says she’ll read her a story, or Alastor plays her some music that helps her fall asleep. After just a couple seconds of her head being on the pillow, she’ll be out like a light!

•Niffty does like nick names when regressed but she honestly couldn’t care what she’s called, even if it’s insulting she’ll think it’s a compliment!

•Still though, her caregivers stick to a couple! Alastor calls her ‘Little Darling’, Charlie calls her, ‘Sweetie’, and Husk calls her ‘Brat’.

————-

Whew, and that’s the main six done! It took a bit out of me, but I’m glad I got all this out of my system, it was fun to write! This doesn’t mean I’m done with Hazbin though, I still have other characters and I obviously want to write a fic at some point! Also I’m fine if you want to send in character requests for any headcanons, just keep in mind I may be busy! Thanks for reading starlights, I’ll hopefully be back soon with more cool stuff!

[georgiapeach30513]

RE: Red One.

It’s funny how critics and people online continue to want to keep this film down, but I think it’s continuing to exceed expectations which is a good sign.

I had a feeling for a long while it was going to surprise people, given how many were complaining nonstop about Chris’s involvement.

Also, the discourse about his career choices… 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

It’s one thing if he were to sit there and complain to the media about not being able to find more serious roles or prestige movies to do.

But to my knowledge he’s never done that? I can only think of him saying years ago that his good films he feels nobody watches (true, or at least not ENOUGH people watch) but even then it wasn’t so much a complaint as a response to a question.

It seems like he is having fun and just picking what he wants to do. I’ve never heard him say “I only did this because I couldn’t get that.” He’s thrown out there he did Red One because he’s always wanted a Christmas film and there was a part for someone like him in it. Makes sense to me. And he just did three smaller scale lower profile projects with directors that are still establishing themselves. Without his and Anya’s involvement, don’t know that sacrifice would have been able to get made. I wish critics who aren’t up to date with his career move at least stop talking and wait for developments over a “hot take” for hits.

I saw a ridiculous tweet once again undermining Red One and his choices. Here’s the thing…red one was an orignal IP. It was a new story that wasn’t from an existing franchise, show, book, or sequel. Lots of people worked on that film and Amazon giving it a theatrical release also helps those who worked on the film that aren’t DJ or the rest of the cast. People who are seeing it in theaters are helping to create box office return and if films like this did well and were received well, maybe there would be more studios willing to take a chance on an original take over an existing IP.

Just because it’s a popcorn movie with silliness does not mean it’s trash and only films like Oppenheimer can be considered art.

I really despise that take and how some cinephiles look down on these films yet solely up lift Oscar bait films.

It bothers me immensely as a creative myself because in my opinion, movies are entertainment and they’re supposed to entertain you. If you and others have fun with the content and enjoy, have a good laugh, a smile, a cry, then I think the creators have done their job. Not all films need to be awards worthy, and art is subjective.

Ahh, the discourse on Chris' career is a tale as old as time at this moment. According to some he will never be good enough or rise to his potential. According to some he is a washed up has been, and yet they can't seem to quit him. I think that makes him a bit more powerful than they want him to be. But alas, we're all free to spend our time how we see fit.

It's funny because I don't think some people realize the roles that he was considered for, the roles he turned down, the roles that he was wanted for. Back when Running Man was in talks, he was top of the list as the lead, and we see that he wanted Sacrifice instead. I think that was a better choice, because quite frankly I'm getting fatigued at all the remakes, but some people want to make their career out of remakes. To each their own.

Unfortunately Chris outside of the MCU has never been quite as a box office draw. A lot of his movies, well most, are on a smaller scale. I think people are looking at his last three movies; Ghosted, Pain Hustlers, and Red One, and immediately jumping on a hate bandwagon. Let's break this down, Ghosted was a small movie, and judging by the synopsis I think we got what we were promised. I think that Dex, Chris, and Ana all were making different movies.

Pain Hustlers will mostly be forgotten. It was part of the opiate epidemic movies that became oversaturated. It didn't have any promotion, and compared to the other projects in the opiate crisis genre, it wasn't that great. I still will die on the hill that his performance was solid, and the best in the movie. Emily was oddly terrible.

Red One I think surprised a lot of people. Nobody expected it to be as fun or as good as it ended up being. Due to the strike, Chris didn't get to really film last year, minus the Deadpool movie. Had R1 not be released a year late, he would have only had Deadpool for this year. Starting next year we're going to have another surge of his projects, and they all seem different, so maybe people should just be patient.

The average movie goer wants to be entertained. That's why popcorn flicks make more money than the award movies. now sometimes you can have both. But anyways.

[nat-20s]

mini-fic time!!!

(all of these r also posted on ao3 lol)

Donna and The Doctor share a discussion about Christmas

~*~

It’s during one of their many little late night chats that the subject comes up. It even happens organically, Donna noting the soft glow of the fairy lights pinned about that were, technically speaking, Christmas lights, and how the entire family had apparently conceded to this being a year round fixture. Of course, instead of focusing on the noble-temple-mott-doctor clan’s terrible consistency with interior decorating, the Doctor throws on a downright cheeky grin and asks, “So. You still hate Christmas?”

She knows the answer he’s expecting. After all, this year’s event was, perhaps, ‘lovely” and ‘joyful’ and ‘bringing tears to her eyes a few times, don’t mention it’. But. Still. Eh?She grimaces and sucks in a breath through her teeth, which is enough for The Doctor to throw the non-mug holding arm in the air and ask slightly too loud, “Seriously?”

Donna shrugs and hides her face behind her mug. “I mean…”

The Doctor blinks at her a few times, and as she has no desire to provide further details, he replies, “Huh. Really? Ialways sort of assumed that, well. You didn’t like Christmas because you had mostly bad ones?”

“What, no.I had loadsof happy Christmases. Hell, there was a good ten years where it was the only day me and mum were actually nice to each other. I just don’t really care for it. I mean, sure, there’s...parts I like, I guess. I like the lights, some of the songs are okayish, and don’t get me wrong, I have loads of fun getting to spoil Rose rotten each year but. I dunno, it’s all a bit, ugh,you know?”

When she gets a downright agog expression in exchange for her statement, she can’t help but snort. “Why the hell do you even care? I can’t imagine that Time Lords are all that arsed about Christianity, and, by the way, if you tell me that you were Christ, I’m gonna tell you fuck off, no you weren’t.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Obviously.”

“Was one of the disciples though.”

“Fuck off, no you weren’t.”

The Doctor stares at her very, very intensely, giving away nothing. For all of about 3 seconds, when his nose wrinkles up in amusement and he waves a hand. “No, I wasn’t. I’m not sure I even know all their names. Think I have some reindeer mixed up with them. On Dasher, on Dancer, on Donny, on Simon, or something like that.”

Donna manages to just roll her eyes rather than enjoy the goof, because he is derailing the conversation, again. “So my point stands. What’s your big thing about Christmas?”

After a hum and a shrug, The Doctor replies, “Oh, it’s not just Christmas. Purim, Holi, Lunar New Year, hell, I adore a good Arbor Day.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s..”

The Doctor looks to the side for a second, in that non-targeted way that Donna knows means he’s trying to remember something. She takes a sip from her cocoa and practices some of her hard won patience.

With a soft hum, The Doctor finally comes back to the present and tells her, “It’s not that Gallifrey never had holidays, of sorts. But they were all very traditional and very serious and very dour. It was all ceremony and diligence and respect, not,” he nods towards the Christmas tree, “fairy lights and colored powders and silly costumes.”

Grinning now, he continues, “You know, in all the lifetimes I’ve lived and all the species I’ve met, humans are utterly unparalleled in their ability to have fun. For all your lots’ faults, of which there are many-”

“-yes, thank you-”

“-nobody celebrates like a human. Any excuse, even the basic, or, ah, often not so basic, act of survival, and you’ll start singing and eating and dancing. You have such a capacity for joy it will leak from you. Happy crying, who the hell does that?”

“Hold on, I’ve seen you do that. Three times in as many days when you first got here.”

Tilting his head in acknowledgment, he counters, “Ah, but that’s only because of the company I keep. Your laughter is infectious, literally, in the year 16,000 it gets classified as a dangerous contagion.I mean, honestly, you lot could make a Dalek snicker. It’s...it’s incredible. There’s genuinely like nothing else in the universe, and, well, I can’t help but be charmed by Christmas as a small sliver of all that relentless joy.”

After a half second pause, he adds, “Plus, yes, the lights are quite pretty.”

Donna can’t quite contain a smile, replying, “I suppose I could see the appeal of it. Through that lens.”

The Doctor grins back at her, and they let themselves sit in a companionable silence. After a minute of simply letting themselves be, and polishing off the last dregs of their cocoa, Donna tells him, “Still can’t fucking stand ‘Wonderful Christmastime’ though.”

Hearing the burst of laughter that comes from The Doctor, Donna can’t help but silently agree with him. She thinks it’s not so bad being infectious, when that infection is joy.

[asharkapologist]

Hhhmmm..... Giulietta please😁✨

Because I love her so much, can you do a headcannon for her?🙂

YESSS! I was hoping someone would ask for Giulietta headcanons because I love her so much as well ahhh

As always, spoilers for Mysteries of the Past!

After the trauma of Crimson Banks, she left Concordia to live with her paternal grandmother (Vittorio mentioned his mother in one case, and I’m headcanoning that she’s still alive because please give Giulietta a break). She returned to Concordia about a year after Lucrezia’s death to visit her grave, which happened to be shortly after Lawson took power, and, well, she knew she had to do something. 

Thanks to the extenuating, unusual, extreme circumstances of Jaubert’s death, she and Enzo were found not guilty when they turned themselves in, given it was self-defense, they turned themselves in, they were trying to save the lives of the political prisoners from a dictator, and they were trying to take down the regime. 

She liked Vinnie and saw him as a bit of a cousin, given how he was close to her family, especially after his father was killed. Her father supported Vinnie, who was young when Vinnie’s father Giovanni died, with the expectation that Vinnie would join his mafia/gang. Giulietta saw Vinnie a lot and the two of them got along well. 

She remained close to Enzo throughout the rest of their lives. (Whether platonically or romantically is up to you.) 

She and Enzo were outspoken activists for the rest of their lives, with them working towards workplace safety, female suffrage, social safety nets for the less fortunate, rights for immigrants, and the elimination of child labor.

She always kept the music box her father gave her, the ring with the photo of Lucrezia in it, the locket she gifted Seamus, and a locket with a picture of Seamus in it with her at all times. 

One of her biggest regrets in her life was how she treated Lucrezia before her death, and how some of her last words to her sister were selfish and unkind. She deeply regretted not being kinder to her sister.

After the dust had settled after Capitol Peak, she apologized to Maddie and the player for pointing her gun at them during In Love and War, considering she’d been feeling awful about doing so for quite some time after that case, but never got a chance to apologize properly to them. They assured her they had forgiven her long ago.

She was never able to wear the yellow dress she wore in Crimson Banks again, as it held too many bad memories regarding the worst day of her life. 

It’s implied that this is already canon, but Giulietta and Seamus met when he was delivering invitations for Mr. Alastor’s parties. (Ironic.)

Speaking of Archie, when he was in police custody before he was released to get sent to Europe, Giulietta overheard her father plotting with his men to kill Archie for what he'd done to Lucrezia and Giulietta. At the time, she had half a mind to join in on such an attack, considering how horrified and disgusted she was by him and how Lucrezia's death was a very fresh wound.

When Giulietta and Seamus had their first proper conversation in the distillery in Blue Blazes, they ended up talking about their recent heartaches--Seamus’ mother being sent back to Ireland in the first case and Lucrezia dying--and when Giulietta started to cry, he gave her a handkerchief to wipe her eyes. It was a bit dirty, but Giulietta thought it was the sweetest gesture. 

Giulietta and Seamus shared several kisses on her balcony when Vittorio wasn’t around. 

She is immensely afraid of sharks. I don’t know why, I just can see that, even though I love sharks. Luckily for her, she died peacefully of old age before Jaws came out.

She lived a relatively long, mostly happy life after the events of the game, because seriously, she deserves it.

Thanks again for requesting her!