#not good with feelings but still understands her well

[dazednmatthews]

casual~ c. sturniolo x reader

four times y/n was “okay” with “just casual” with chris, one time she told truth + one time he realized what he’d lost.

“my friends call me a loser

cause i’m still hanging around

i’ve heard so many rumors

that i’m just the girl that you bang on your couch”

“i just will never understand you guys,” one of y/n’s friends say, popping a chip in her mouth. “like, why are you sitting around waiting for chris?”

“because she’s obsessed with him, stupid.” another one interjects. they’re all sitting around y/n’s apartment, music playing from the t.v, snacks and drinks littering the table in front of them.

the four girls were waiting for the guys to finish setting up beer pong in the kitchen, and somehow it had turned into conversation about y/n’s less than conventional relationship with chris. go figure.

“i’m not obsessed with him,” she rolls her eyes. “and i’m not waiting for shit. we’re just casual, despite whatever you guys want to think.”

“right,” the third says, dragging out the ‘i’. she gives her a pointed look. “cause spending every waking moment together, sleeping at his house three times a week and looking at each other how you do screams casual.”

y/n laughs then, shaking her head. “it’s not that serious. can’t two people just enjoy each others times- and beds- without a relationship?”

“sure,” her best friend agrees. “two people can. you and chris though? i don’t buy it.”

“alright, fuck you guys.” y/n stands up from her place on the couch, throwing a pillow at one of her friends with a smile. “i’m going to check on what’s taking them so long.”

the walk to the kitchen is interesting, because honestly, it’s the first time y/n has really thought about her… whatever this thing with chris was from an outside perspective. it’d been a constantly changing few months, and she’d never stopped to think about how she felt in all of it.

sure, sometimes chris says stuff to her that has meaning underneath. sure, sometimes she calls him after a bad day because he always knows what to say. and sure, maybe the sex had gone from fun and wild to slightly intimate with eye contact that sometimes knocked the wind out of her. but that didn’t mean it had to mean anything different than what they wanted.

when she gets to the wall separating the hallway and the kitchen, she hears her name and freezes. “chris, bro, what the fuck is going on with you and y/n? i swear you guys are attached at the fucking hip.”

“basically his fucking girlfriend at this point,” matt, his brother, says and she can practically hear him rolling his eyes.

the girl in question finds herself waiting with bated breath for chris to answer. “fuck off, matt,” she imagines he flips him off. “she’s not my fucking girlfriend.”

it takes her by surprise the way it cracks her just a tiny bit. she knew he’d say it, knew that there was no revelation that would leave his lips. that was expected. what wasn’t expected, was how it made her feel. “we’re just fucking around. she’s a cool girl, but that’s about it.”

y/n thinks that bothers her even more than the previous answer. the words wedge their way into her stomach, wiggling around and filling her with a new, uncomfortable feeling. she thinks it may be disappointment, but she refuses to acknowledge it. chris finds her in the hallway before she can anyway.

“hey, we just finished setting up,” he sends her the most beautiful smile, one that her brain suddenly tells her he doesn’t mean. “i was just coming to find you.”

as soon as he’s in her space his hands are on her, snaking around her waist and pulling her in. he kisses her then, soft and sinfully slow. she throws the weird feelings into the fire and kisses him back just as deep.

when he pulls away, his eyebrows furrow slightly, and he gives her a concerned look. “you good?”

she’s surprised he can tell that something was bothering her. surprised he can read her face that well. it confuses her, which in turn brings those discomforting feelings right back. she looks at him, running her eyes all over him, taking him in. his bright blue eyes, the stubble framing his perfect jawline, the faded acne scar on his cheek. the moment is good, and she’s happy with them exactly as they are.

so, y/n runs her hands through his soft hair, placing a searing kiss on his lips. “i’m great. now let’s go. you’re about to get your ass kicked.”

she pulls him towards the kitchen as he laughs, stamping down the pesky voice in her head that tells her that something about this day will come back to haunt her.

-

“you said, “baby, no attachment.” but

we’re knee deep in the passenger seat and you’re eating me out

is it casual now?”

“fuck, chris,” y/n throws her head back, fisting her hands into chris’s scalp as his tongue works against her. the rubber band in her stomach feels like its about to snap, and she knows she can’t hold on much longer.

“so good for me, baby.” chris purrs, voice sending shocks through her core. “no one could ever know you like me. no one ever will.”

he holds her hips down as she tries to wiggle away from the feeling, her finish clawing through her. “no one.” she babbles, basically slurring from the pleasure.

“only me, ma.” his fingers are pumping unforgivingly, making her black spots appear in her vision. “say it.”

“just you, chris- jesusfuckingchrist,” her words keep sticking to each other as they basically fly from her mouth, and when he flattens his tongue on her, the rubber band explodes. “only you.”

he doesn’t stop lapping at her until she comes down from her high, and she’s a shaking mess in his front seat. he’s whispering praises to her, telling her how good she is to him, tells her how she’s never looked prettier than when she’s coming for him, and tells her he could never find anyone better than her.

when everything is said and done and chris is back in the driver’s seat, raking his hands through his hair incessantly, y/n feels an ugly feeling creeping into her gut. it’s red hot and thick, turning her cheeks warm.

she looks at chris, who’s already looking at her. “you okay? need anything?”

her heart clenches a little. because how can they be “just fucking around” when he looks at her like that?

“yeah,” she says, despite her better judgement. “just tired.”

chris nods, leaning across the middle console and plays with a stray curl. she presses her cheek into his hand, kissing it softly. the look in his eyes sends electricity through her veins.

“well, can’t have my girl unrested.” he rubs her chin between his thumb and pointer finger affectionately. “mine or yours?”

the action makes her sick with feelings. “mine.”

and it’s all she has to say before he’s pulling out of the parking lot like a man on a mission.

fuck.

-

“dumb love

i love being stupid

dream of us in a year

maybe we’d have an apartment

and you’d show me off to your friends at the pier”

the light filters through the curtains of the bedroom, causing y/n to blink her eyes open. she stretches slightly, only to find herself wrapped up in someone’s arms.

chris snores softly, lashes kissing his cheeks. his hair is everywhere, falling in pretty tendrils on the pillow. in her sleepy state, the girl reaches out, raking her hands through them.

he groans slightly, pushing his head into her hand. “that feels nice.”

she scrapes her nails in his scalp slightly, warmth filling her at his gruff voice. “good morning.”

he finally opens his eyes,which are a pretty dark blue, coated in sleep. “it is now.” the smile he gives her is blinding.

chris’s hold on her tightens. there’s no physical way for them to get any closer, but he’s trying anyway. his right hand is rubbing her back while his left sits on the swell of her ass, playing with the band of her underwear. the touches make her melt into him further.

they lay there for what seems like forever, although if you asked them, it would never be long enough. when they do finally leave the warmth of their bed, y/n is watching from the doorframe as chris brushes his teeth.

“how come you aren’t ready?” he asks through white foam, spraying it forward. he giggles at that, shrugging.

she raises an eyebrow. “ready for what?”

chris rinses his mouth, patting his face dry. “i told you that my friends from back home are here. we’re going out with them.”

“no, you said you were going out with them,” there’s confusion etched into his face as you continue. “i didn’t think that meant i was coming.”

“why the hell not?”

the surprise she feels is jarring. “you want me to meet your friends from home?”

chris gives her a look like she just shot him. he walks up to her, ducking his head down and connecting their eyes. “first of all, i want you with me literally everywhere i go.” he kisses her chastely. “second, ‘course i do. i want everyone to know you’re mine.”

it feels like the world opens up then. there’s a faint hum going through her body, like chris had single handedly brought her back to life.

the smile that paints her face is so radiant, you’d think the sun had risen right here in this room. “okay. i’ll get ready now.”

before she leaves the room, chris smacks her ass, making them both laugh. she feels the hardwood beneath her feet, feels the kisses from this morning on her skin and feels the peace all around her-

y/n’s woken up by the sound of her phone going off. she’s disoriented, wiping away the sleep with stiff hands. when she comes to fully, she’s in her bedroom, alone, with a longing that threatens to knock her right back out.

that was new. dreaming of chris like that. the way every single touch, every single kiss and every single feeling was so painfully real. it was getting self destructive now, the way that she was coming to realize her feelings, but ignoring them every time.

she picks up her phone to look at the time, 1:47 AM, and the texts that cover her screen.

chris <3

1:04 am

wyd

chris <3

1:17 am

come over

chris <3

1:32 am

need you here

there’s something different in the way she feels while reading them. there’s no excitement, no thrill or pleasure that runs up her spine. there’s nothing but a hollow pit in her stomach, making her nauseous.

her mind reminds her ruthlessly of her dream; the way he held her so tight. the way he called her his, and the way it felt to be wanted by him. she knew that this was no longer casual, the way she wanted to be next to him all the time. they way she found herself right there whenever he asked. the way her heart sped up whenever he looked at her. it felt like she was in fucking quicksand, with every time she tried to ignore and drown out her constantly growing feelings for chris, the deeper she sank.

she wants to say no. she wants to turn around and go right back to sleep. to finally admit that this is hurting her way worse than she’s made herself believe. but she’d be kidding herself to believe that there was ever a way for her to deny anything chris wanted. he might not be hers, but she damn sure was his.

was asleep. give me 15 n i’m on my way.

she tries to convince herself she’s fine the entire drive over there.

-

“two weeks and your mom invites me to her house in long beach

is it casual now?

…and i try to be the chill girl

that holds her tongue and gives you space

i try to be the chill girl

but honestly, i’m not.”

“i’m sorry?”

there’s a deafening silence in y/n’s head when the the words come out of chris’ moms mouth. like the loud buzz and click when turning off a static screen television.

she wasn’t even sure how she’d gotten into this situation. when chris brought it up to her, she was gobsmacked the exact same as now, mouth floundering helplessly.

“my parents are coming next week.” chris says from his place in front of the open fridge. he was rooting around for the last of the soda you kept in there specifically for him.

“i’m glad. i know you said you were missing them recently.” y/n is cooking dinner for the two of them, pasta, cause chris was craving it. she tries not to think of the implications of the scene.

“yeah, i was.”

he’s behind her now, looking over her shoulder at what she’s doing. “can you come over one night? i want you to meet them.”

y/n nearly chucks the pot off the stove with how quick she moves. “you want me to what?”

“holy shit.” chris backs up as she faces him. “you scared the fuck out of me.” he laughs, but she doesn’t return it. she’s just staring at him with wide eyes. something akin to hope blooms in her chest.

“why do you want me to meet your parents?”

chris looks at her like she just asked him to streak. his eyebrows are knitted together, and his eyes are searching hers. “why wouldn’t i?” he shrugs.

she thinks he can’t possibly know what he’s asking. he’s speaking about it so casually that she thinks she might explode. might crumble to the floor beneath his feet. as always.

“i dunno,” she says carefully. trying to find any indication in his face that they were more than she thought from his perspective. “i didn’t know that we were there yet is all.”

chris’ face flashes in recognition then. “ohhhh. no, no,” he laughs like she just told the most hilarious joke in the fucking world. “not like… not like that.”

the words actually make her start to lose consciousness a little. “like that?”

“yeah. not like as a girlfriend or anything.” he has no idea that he’s killing her slowly. “i meant because you’re one of my closest friends. like i know we’re doing this lowkey thing or whatever, but we’re still friends right?”

it would’ve hurt less if he shot her at point blank range.

she nods then, forcing herself to smile. the hope has been smothered just as quick as it started to grow. “yeah, of course. i’d love to.”

he kisses her sweetly before asking if she needs any help cooking for the sixth time today. she says no, and he tells her he’d be in her living room watching TV until she’s done.

it’s only when he left the room did she let herself fall apart.

she feels eerily similar to that moment right now. confused and slightly afraid of saying the wrong thing.

“i said, we’re going on vacation soon and we would love it if you came!” his mom repeats, her smile full and unwavering. “chris never shuts up about you, and you’ve been an absolutely light to be around tonight. we’d love to have you.”

“mom—“, chris groans from next to her in the couch, cheeks turning pink. matt and nick are laughing at him. “quit it. you’re scaring her.”

he didn’t protest. he didn’t shut it down. what the fuck does that mean?

“i wouldn’t want to impose—“ y/n starts, stuttering slightly. her palms are sweating and she feels nervousness pooling in her stomach.

“as if,” nick says. “it would be even better with you there.” matt silently agrees, nodding his head.

she has no idea what to do and chris is looking at her with the most indescribable look she’s ever seen in her god damn life. so she relents. “i’d love to. let me just make sure i’m free.”

his mom’s smile only grows, mirroring chris completely. she turns to nick to talk about something after it’s decided, and y/n’s head is left reeling. chris leans into her ear.

“you don’t have to go, you know.” he says. slowly, she turns her head to him. their faces are close, and she searches his eyes for anything to make her feel better.

“do you want me to?”

his answer is immediate. “of course.”

she knows the next question is heavy, for her at least, so she plasters a small smirk on her lips, raising her eyebrows. “catching feelings, christopher?”

he chuckles, tightening his arm around her shoulders. she envies his ability to go with the flow. to take things as they are. she can’t.

“you wish.”

it shatters her then, but she nuzzles further down into his side anyway. she laughs at the jokes the boys make, the stories his parents tell and the embarrassed blush on chris’s’ neck.

she asks questions when she should, nods and smiles at him when he looks at her. she does it all. for the rest of the night, she acts just like she should, plays her role as the nonchalant, down for whatever friends-with-benefits/situationship/casual relationship girl.

in reality though, she can tell it’s time. can tell by the way her heart constricts when he laughs. by the way she never wants to be away from him. by the way the thought of him wanting her to be so involved in his life is something she craves so bad. she loves him, and its hurting her.

it’s no longer casual, and it’s time to accept it.

-

“i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself

hate that i let this drag on so long, you can go to hell.”

“chris?” y/n walks out the bathroom in one of his shirts and her underwear, towel drying her hair. the boy in question looks up from his phone. “have you seen my red bra with the lace trim?”

he raises his eyebrow. “i thought you had on a black one tonight?”

she rolls her eyes, throwing the towel into the laundry basket. “yes, christopher, i did. but you know the red one’s my favorite and i haven’t seen it in a while.”

he shrugs, pointing at his dresser. “oh yeah. you left it here when you were over here, one time. it’s in the dresser.”

for some reason, the words hit her like a freight train. she pauses, completely unknown to chris who’s still very much into his phone. when she gets to the dresser, she opens it, and sure enough, there it is.

something about it makes hysteria build in her body. she feels like screaming, feels like sinking into the ground to never be seen again. everything inside her that had been simmering inside her the last five months had finally bubbled over. she couldn’t take it anymore.

“what i am to you, chris?”

she didn’t mean for it to come out, but she’s glad it did. glad that she was finally done denying herself the truth that she rightfully deserved.

his head snaps to hers instantly, eyes wide. “what?”

“you heard me,” y/n walks to her bag that’s sitting on his desk chair. she shoves her legs through her shorts, standing straight and looking chris dead in the eye. “what the fuck are we doing here?”

for a moment, there’s nothing. she can tell the cogs in his head are moving a hundred miles an hour by the way his eyes are scanning her face. “we’re what we’ve always been. we’re hanging out. we’re friends.”

“friends,” she mutters bitterly. “right.”

chris sits up finally, turning his entire body towards her. his phone is tossed and forgotten. “where the hell is this coming from?”

“you just had me meet your fucking parents.” she says slowly, enunciating every word. “they fucking invited on vacation with your family,” the room is spinning for her. running past her in a flurry of color and heartbreak, “you keep my favorite fucking bra in your dresser, and you expect me to be okay with “we’re friends?””

chris can tell that something is wrong. sure anyone with functioning social awareness could tell, but he knows something is really, really wrong.

he stands, rounding the bed, coming face to face with her. he reaches out to touch her, and it’s the first time in the history of their entanglement that she steps away. the hurt on his face is palpable. but for once, y/n doesn’t care about how chris feels. or what chris wants.

“come here.” he says.

“no,” she shakes her head. she looks at him then, really looks. slides her eyes over the fluffiness of his drying hair, straight out the shower. the way his eyes sink in just a bit, contrasting with the bright blue they usually possess. the way his nose slopes and perfectly frames his face. the way his mouth, which has been so good to her, naturally leans upward and to the right, always faintly smirking. she takes in everything about him, snapping a photo in her mind so she can remember it after this moment.

y/n takes a deep breath. one she’s needed for a while. “i’m done with this.”

“what are you talking about?” she tries to convince herself it isn’t panic she hears. “stop being ridiculous and talk to me.”

“i am talking, chris. you’re just choosing not to listen.”

she walks to her bag, grabbing the things that she can see are hers. she spots her tank top on the ground, snatching it up and turning her back to chris quickly, stripping off her- his shirt. she thrusts it into his chest.

“i can’t pretend to be okay with this anymore. i tried, i really did. but it hurts. and i refuse to keep ignoring what i need to be what you do.”

the words smack chris right in the center of his forehead, the way it seems. that look, the one she can never fucking figure out, is right back on his face. it’s not her problem anymore.

he can’t think of anything to say. he’s terrified, but he doesn’t know how to fix this. so what comes out is, “you said you were okay with this. that this is what you wanted.”

y/n’s movements cease and she stares at him. they may be right in front of each other, yet there’s nothing between them but space.

“i was,” she admits. “but now i’m not. so i need you to look me in face right now and tell me what you want. cause i can’t do casual anymore, chris.”

when he doesn’t speak, her words fill the space. “i can’t wake up in your bed five nights of the week with you wrapped around me and call it casual. can’t hear you call me ‘your girl’ and pretend that when we fuck it’s casual. you can’t continuously treat me like your world and then back out when i expect it from you.”

she wishes he would say something, anything. instead, he stands in front of her, desperation haunting his features. she wants to give in, to tell him it’s okay. but she can’t. she won’t.

“i can’t give you a relationship, if that’s what you’re saying.” he runs his hair through his hair. he looks about as stressed as she feels. “i like you, but i’m not ready for that.”

y/n scoffs. it feels like a severed connection. like he just cut the tether between them with a hacksaw. “you can, but you won’t.” she smiles sadly, “and that’s okay. i don’t want you to do something that makes you unhappy.”

she walks to him then, gently placing her hand on his cheek. despite the cavity that’s being carved in place of her heart, she loves him. “i hope, on that at least, you feel the same.”

there’s really nothing else she needs to say, and she doesn’t really think there’s much else she can stomach to hear. so she removes herself from his space, and begins to try to remove him from hers.

he doesn’t try to stop her as she leaves. she doesn’t expect him to. she thinks that tells her everything.

-

y/n groans as she pulls into her unofficial, official parking spot in front of her apartment complex after work. her entire body aches, and she can’t wait to collapse in her bed.

her phone pings loudly, making her jump. she has that momentary adrenaline rush that she always does when she hears it, even after nearly a month. she wouldn’t say she was holding on to hope that he would text her, but the thought still lives in the back of her head.

it dies as quickly as it always does when she checks, though. her mom had sent her a link to some new recipe she wanted to try. she doesn’t even have the energy to heart the message.

she grabs her bag, trudging up the insane amount of stairs, grumbling about how she can’t wait for her lease to be up. it’s only when she turns the corner to the hallway leading to her apartment that she stops dead in her fucking tracks, body going numb.

there, in all his unfortunately sexy glory, is chris. he’s sitting on the ground outside her door, arms hanging off his knees. through the darkness, y/n can see him in her favorite jacket that he owns, a dark blue and white flannel type, and black, loose jeans hanging off his slouched frame.

she has no idea how long she stands there, unmoving and not uttering a word, but eventually, chris looks up.

he basically jumps up, straightening his clothes. “hi.”

she pushes her feet to move, but they don’t. “hi?”

chris scratches the back of his neck nervously. “sorry to just show up like this- fuck this is probably weird, right?- i just-“ he sucks in a breath. “i wanted to talk to you.”

“oh.” she says dumbly, eyes still wide. “yeah. okay.”

neither of them know what to say, or what to do. they’re just standing ten feet apart, staring like they’ve both seen a ghost. it’s only when y/n’s neighbor comes out of their apartment and she has to get out of the way does she move.

her feet carry her on autopilot, mind blank as she walks to her door. she’s so acutely aware of chris behind her as she opens it. it’s a funny thing, falling in love with someone. your body never forgets how they made you feel. she feels like chris must have a magnet underneath his clothes, the way she’s being pulled towards him.

once they’re inside and the lights are on, she sets her stuff down on the dining room table. she takes in a deep breath, steeling her heart before turning to him.

“so what’s up-“

“i miss you.”

they speak at the same time, but chris doesn’t falter when she gapes at him. “i’m sorry for being a fucking idiot. i’m sorry for hurting you.”

there’s not enough time for her to process anything before he’s walking towards her, slowly, like she might disappear if he makes a sudden move.

“what the fuck?”

it makes him smile slightly. he looks down for a second before closing the remaining space between them. he’s right in front of her now, and feels every hair on her body raise. his eyes are so honest, so open that it kind of takes her breath away. there’s a tiredness to him. like he hadn’t been sleeping well. his eye bags are deeper than before, eyes a little more sunken in. his facial hair is more grown out than she’s ever seen it, pronounced five o’clock shadow that makes him look well beyond his years.

“i always wanted more. i think i was just being a pussy. do you remember when i asked you to meet my parents?” she nods. how could she forget? “that night, i’d been watching you in the kitchen, dancing around and cooking. asking me to try the sauce every time you added something. kicking me out when i got too close or when i asked you if you wanted help again.”

he chuckles, like he’s thinking about his favorite memory. “i was looking at you and i knew that i was in love with you. it hit me like a fucking bus. so i asked you to meet my parents.”

y/n physically can’t do anything but stare at him like he’s telling her the secrets of the universe.

“when you said you “didn’t think we were there yet”…” he trails off, pink tinting his cheeks. “well, it scared the shit out of me. for so many reasons. i thought that meant you didn’t feel the same. then i got scared because i thought i was falling for you and this was still something you could replace.”

she doesn’t know what to say at the confession. doesn’t know how to feel either. it seemed beyond her comprehension that there was ever a time, during their entire relationship, that chris thought his feelings were unrequited.

“why the fuck didn’t you say something when i left that night?” she says incredulously. “you let me walk out of your house thinking you didn’t feel the same. do you know how bad that hurt?”

chris cringes at the reminder. “i know, and i’m so fucking sorry. i’ve replayed that night over in my head literally a million times wishing i could change it.” when he knows she won’t back away, he puts a hand on the space between her cheek and neck. “i do feel the same way, y/n. i always have. i’m sorry i was too chicken shit to tell you. and i’m sorry that you ever felt like you had to keep hurting yourself to make me happy.”

y/n feels her resolve slipping. looking at chris, standing in her apartment after a month of missing him, of wishing he would do exactly what he’s doing now, has her heart beating a thousand miles an hour. that pesky little hope fly, the one she’d thought she squished and smothered, rears its ugly head again.

above all though, she’s cautious. her heart is still tender from the break it took, and she can’t do that again. she gives him a lost look, like despite all he said, she’s still missing something.

he gets closer, lips a hair away. “ask me again.”

“ask you what?”

“what you asked me that night.” he snakes a hand up her hips to her waist. it’s searing, leaving fire in its trace. “ask me again.”

she thinks back, when she realizes, her eyes soften. “what am i to you, chris?” her voice is nothing but a whisper, scared to burst the bubble around them. the moment is so sensitive and soft, the juxtaposition of the original harshness of the question definitely not lost on her.

“you’re everything to me. you’ve been my girlfriend since probably the third week we started this thing,” her breath hitches. “you’re someone i never want to lose again.”

and when he kisses her, cause he just knows, y/n feels herself exhale. feels the pieces of her heart click back in place. it’s like finding a lost puzzle piece under a couch cushion. like the first sip of ice cold water on a scorching day.

she grabs on to him tightly, losing herself in it completely. his lips chase her every way she moves, not standing to be disconnected. it’s messy and beautiful and right. it’s all the miscommunication, fear of the unknown and doubt circling down the metaphorical drain.

she pulls away to speak, but chris doesn’t let her up. she gives him one, two, three kisses back to back before she turns her head, laughing relentlessly. “chris!”

he doesn’t stop smothering her, placing his lips on the corner of her mouth, her neck, her cheek— everywhere he can reach.

“it’s been so long. you can’t expect me to not want you close, baby.”

her heart swells ten times in size, filling her ribcage beautifully. she grabs his face in her hands, raising a stern eyebrow. “i have to say something.” chris pouts slightly, and because she’s waited so long for this, and he’s looking at her like he could never live a second without her, she places one more lingering kiss to his full lips.

“i love you, too, by the way.”

the way his face lights up has even the brightest star withering in envy. he wraps his arms all the way around her body, pulling her impossibly closer.

who knows how long they stay there, heart to heart, finally, finally exactly where they should’ve been all along.

and when they lay close in y/n’s bed that night, skin to skin and deliriously happy, they both have the same thought.

fuck casual.

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a/n: jesus fuck this shit took me FOREVER. i hope yall like it cause i spent so long tweaking it and rewriting some parts cause i wanted it to be perfect. this song also is embedded in my bones and i’m obsessed with it so bad. how we feeling cherrie nation!!!

also yes before y’all start… number neighbor!ten will be up with in the hour!! i wanted to post a bunch cause i’ve been working so fucking much and finally had a real day off. back at it tomorrow doe </3

anyways love yall so bad i hope u like it 🥹

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo headcanon #chris sturniolo texts #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo texts #matt sturniolo headcanon #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x you #Spotify

[vent-stink]

Ateez hybrid Au, where Seonghwa owns puppy San and kitty reader, and Hongjoong owns fox wooyoung. (heavily inspired by this ask by @thetypingpup and this smut by @kitten4sannie although I don't write mxm). Seonghwa adopted pup!San first, and he was pretty sweet, but he didn't like socializing with other hybrids, so when Seonghwa stopped by the shelter one day and found this pretty kitty reader, he has to bring her home, and the poor thing is the cutest and shyest kitty San has ever seen and he immediately becomes infatuated with her. She's usually attached to Seonghwa's ankles at any given time, but San is always attempting to be in her space when their owner isn't home. Even though San absolutely adores her, Seonghwa is the one to take care of her during her heats while San cries pawing at the door. That's not to say that he and reader never play together, though, because once Sannie gets a sniff of her cunt, he goes feral and she loves to play. He's just not allowed to be with her during her heats because the one time Seonghwa let him, he almost hurt reader because he was too aggressive due to her pheromones. Seonghwa usually likes to watch them play since they're so cute together, and sometimes reader begs him to join, too, and he'll do anything for his precious kitten. (you can tell how heavily it's inspired by that ask). San isn't good with other hybrids, so when Seonghwa's friend Hongjoong offers for their hybrids to have a playdate since his fox hybrid Wooyoung is fucking annoying and while he likes making friends, the other hybrids get too intimidated by his energy, and while Seonghwa thinks his shy kitty would also be intimidated by an energetic hybrid, he knows that she's still very friendly, so he accepts Hongjoong's offer, but San doesn't come because Seonghwa knows he'll pick a fight over reader. The two end up getting along a little too well, and much to their surprise, they find the two naked cuddling and heaving in the living room when they come back. Hongjoong would have smacked Wooyoung with a news paper if the two of them didn't look so darn cute all cuddled up like that. (super super inspired by the kitten4sannie smut. I literally imagine everything the same except switch owners and they're not into each other like that (or are they?)). At some point, Seonghwa has to go out of town with San for something, so he entrusts reader to Hongjoong for the weekend, and while both she and Wooyoung are ecstatic, she ends up becoming clingy with Hongjoong more than Wooyoung because she's so used to the security of her owner and Hongjoong is the only available substitute for the time being. She can't be away from him for long periods of time. Hongjoong is used to the clinginess because Wooyoung is like that too, but it's definitely not in the same way. Hongjoong is more like a parent to wooyoung than anything, but when he let's reader sleep in his bed because she refuses to leave him, he's shook to find his cock in her mouth the next morning, taking care of his morning wood like it's her job. He feels guilty as he let's her finish and cuddles her as she asks him if she did a good job, and calls Seonghwa to apologize, but Seonghwa just laughs him off and apologizes for not warning him about reader's habits sooner. Let's just say that Hongjoong has a newfound appreciation for Seonghwa's little kitten and understands why the hybrids and Seonghwa love her so much. This is definitely an AU I will constantly be writing for. This much was inspired by the works I mentioned above, but there is more original plot for them for sure. Please ask about it if you're interested, I want to write so much for them and I can definitely add other members later :3. (I'm still working out whether kitty will be you, y/n, or reader tho)

#ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez #atz #choi san #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jung wooyoung #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #choi san x reader #san x reader #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x reader #hybrid ateez

[unluckilyimnot]

Hii love your writing sm! Can you write how would rin,sae,karasu and otoya react if them and the reader went on a date/stroll around the park and a lady who is selling roses approaches them and asks them if they woud buy one for the reader??

roses – rin, sae, karasu

m.list | rules

Note: hiii thank you for your request ! Here it is hihi for the fun fact, it happened to me once on a date with a guy (he didn’t say yes btw, it was like our second date something like that) sorry I couldn't think of eita's reaction ;-;

Rin Itoshi

Rin blushed a little and if he could, he would’ve turned his face away for you not to see this. You patted his arm sweetly before locking your arm with his. You were sure that his nervous self would panics at this situation.

“Sorry ma’am, that’s maybe too soon for that –” but Rin cut you off.

“Here.” He handed cash to the lady and she let you choose one of them with a smile.

You let go off his arm while looking a little. Your eyes met with hers and she flashes you a big smile. “You find a good one here.” she said with a wink.

You could feel your cheeks heat up as well and wave her goodbye with your fresh flower in hand. It smells so good, you were kinda sure it was from her garden.

Looking up to Rin, you pushed it under his nose ass well. “It really smells good.”

Sniffing a little, Rin only nods, still not looking at you. You almost started to feel bad.

“Thank you.” you whispered, laying your head on his arm. It wasn’t early in the relationship in fact, you just knew Rin was uncomfortable with this type of things. You never expected him to say yes. That for sure made your heart flutter.

She was totally right, you had to keep him.

Sae Itoshi

As soon as the lady came closer, Sae turned her off with a strict gaze. He’s not into this kind of stuff anyway, and it’s not a flower that can reflect how much he loves you. It fades away at some point, and he wishes to offer you the best things in life, not something that dies anyway.

He was about to go on with his day and forget about it already when the lady spoke to you.

“If he doesn’t even consider it, maybe you should find someone better.”

“Maybe you’re right.” you added, giggling with her to tease him a little.

You forget for a little how Sae takes things seriously. If you think that you have to reconsider his love over a flower, he’ll make sure to prove you wrong. Mostly her, in fact.

Turning around on his heels, he looked dead in her eyes and said, without even thinking twice this time, “I’ll take them all.”

You gasped before laughing out loud this time, tears already showing in your eyes. You grabbed his arm, shaking your head.

“Come on Sae, I’m kidding it’s fine !”

“No. I take it.”

That’s how you end up with around fifty roses and you were already thinking about where to pt them around your place .

Tabito Karasu

The second Tabito saw the old lady, it clicked in his head. He just had to find something to keep you occupied for a few minutes. 

Bringing back the fact that you were hungry a while ago, he let you wait in the line for soame waffle and ice cream, faking that he had to call someone back quickly before he could come back. You didn’t ask anything about it, it happens quite often with his job. You understand that. 

Little did you know, he rushed to the old lady the second your eyes fell on your phone. She wasn’t expecting him, he could tell when he heard her gasp.

“Sorry I surprised you, but he would really like one for my s/o without them knowing,” he explained, eyes wide open enough to make her giggle. She nodded of course, handing him two flowers.

“The second is a gift, they’re very lucky to have you, young man.” Her tender smile, showing him how age marked her yet never touched her kindness, made him soft as he thanked her with a warm smile as well. He’ll make sure to let you know. 

You covered your mouth in shock when he tapped your shoulder before handing you the two roses. You didn’t expect him to find her himself for you.

“You didn’t have to !”

“One is from her, it’s a gift.” he chuckles, greatly appreciating the kiss you laid on his cheek to thank him.

I hope you liked it !

#blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #blue lock fluff #blue lock hc #blue lock #bllk x reader #bllk headcanons #bllk fluff #bllk hcs #bllk #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #rin hc #rin itoshi #karasu x reader #karasu tabito x reader #karasu headcanons #karasu tabito #sae itoshi x reader #sae x reader #sae hc #sae headcanons

[bandgie]

I had an idea but idk if you'd be comfortable with it so feel free to ignore it

I thought of minho and hyunjin for it. minho knowing hyunjin has a crush on someone. minho knows her but hyunjin doesn't. to tease him, minho takes the girl out on a friendly date and takes pics to show hyunjin. he gets jealous but that pushes him to talk to the girl and after meeting up a few times, they fuck. as revenge, hyunjin takes a picture or video or whatever to send to minho

I like loser to cocky hyunjin 😶

2k words

warnings! MDNI 18+, blowjob, throat fucking (light), cum swallowing, recording during oral

"Hyung, can you not send me things like that?"

"Like what?" But Minho already knows. He has a sly grin that makes his top two teeth slightly poke out. The smile only widens when Hyunjin groans, digging his phone from his pocket and unlocking it.

It only takes a few clicks before Hyunjin shows Minho the message. A sent picture of you holding up ice cream, smiling, and throwing up a peace sign.

"Ohhh," Minho pretends to finally understand. "Did you know she loves strawberry ice cream?"

"Minho!" Hyunjin jumps at the sound of his voice. "You know how I feel. It doesn't make me feel any better." He shoves his phone back into his pocket, folding his arms. "You're being a mean hyung to me."

"Mean? It's not my fault you're not doing anything. I'm just trying to give you a little encouragement." And although that's somewhat true, Minho can't lie that he finds joy in Hyunjin's scowl. 

Hyunjin shakes his head. "Well, stop it. It's not working."

But Minho doesn't. Every few days, Hyunjin gets an image of you with Minho. It ranges from going out for lunch to volunteering at animal shelters. Minho is in the same major as you and Hyunjin only came across you once. That's all it took for him to develop an innocent crush; one that Minho is seemingly keen on ruining.

Message after message, days upon days that leave Hyunjin feeling a mix of emotions. He's at the university library, staring at his phone and debating on blocking Minho's number until a glimpse of your figure catches his attention. 

It shouldn't be a surprise to see you, you all go to the same college, but it's rare for Hyunjin to come across anyone he knows due to his schedule. For a minute, he just watches. He observes the way you survey the room to look for a spot, and steps slowly to get a good look. He watches as your eyes lock with his, smiling and giving a small wave. You quicken your steps in his direction-

Holy shit. Are you going to sit next to him? Hyunjin hurriedly collects his scattered papers to make some room, not bothering to lock his phone that he hastily sets on the table. Your steps get closer, his heart beats faster. He's managed to make a small, messy pile when you stop just a few inches shy away from him. 

"It's Hyunjin, right?" Gosh, even the way you say his name makes his stomach dip.

Hyunjin nods, eyes shifting from his paper to your face. "Yeah."

"Okay good!" You happily set your backpack on the table and choose the seat right next to him. "I wasn't sure. I just seen you and thought you looked familiar. You're Minho's friend, no?"

This is the closest Hyunjin's ever been with you. He can smell your perfume, the lip balm that makes your mouth shine, and your cheery expression as you speak. How is Minho even friends with someone so happy?

Probably to make Hyunjin's life difficult. But there isn't an opportunity to answer as Hyunjin's phone goes off. Still unlocked, both of you stare at the message. 

From: Asshole [image sent] got to try out the new cafe with your favorite person the other day lol

Hyunjin reaches for the phone, but the damage is already done. You're quicker than him, snatching it off the table and scrolling further into the messages. Some casual conversations, lots of cussing, but mostly you. Just photos of you with captions ranging from what you did with Minho to Hyunjin asking- no begging - for Minho to stop. 

"What the hell?" You mumble to yourself just as Hyunjin successfully pries his phone from your grasp. He's sweating, you notice. Chest expanding rapidly and hands shaking. "Why is Minho sending pictures of me to you like that?"

He just shakes his head, unable to answer from embarrassment or shock, you're not sure. His dark hair sweeps over his face and he hurriedly packs his things. "I need to go." His voice is just as shaky as his hands. 

You grab a hold of his bag, preventing him from leaving. "You're not going anywhere." You yank on the material and he whines. "Hyunjin." He whines again at the sound of his name, but he remains standing and pulling against your grasp.

"Hyunjin. Sit. Down."

His legs turn to jelly, a final whimper escaping his throat as he plops back in his seat. You let a sigh, rubbing your temples in a way that makes Hyunjin gulp.

"Sorry, I...I didn't mean to say it like that." You take a deep breath. "I just don't understand why Min is sending you pictures of me. It comes off a little...weird. You know?"

Weird? Oh, he's so fucked. You're keeping a neutral expression, but Hyunjin isn't sure how much longer that'll last. If he tells you the truth, you might be disgusted. You both hardly know each other, how can he harbor even just some feelings for you? This is Minho's fault. It's only fair that he gets the full blame. 

"Yeah, no I get it," Hyunjin nods. "He just..." Fuck, what is he supposed to say?

You give him a few seconds before you prompt him again, "He just what?" You're being so patient. So understanding that you're still here letting Hyunjin save his ass. You should have called him a perv by now, slapping him across the face. But you didn't.

"He's just a dick." Fuck it. "I've already asked him to stop, but he just likes to torture me." You raise a curious eyebrow, but Hyunjin continues. "It was one time. I said that I think you're pretty just one time and he makes it his fucking mission to make sure he sees how much fun he's having with you."

That's not what you were expecting, but Hyunjin is far from done. "I would love to get to know you, to talk to you, but I'm such a pussy. That dick rubs it in my face how often you two hang out. Like, that's cool and all, but I want to rip my hair out." Hyunjin gets more confident as he talks, most likely getting riled up from talking about Minho, but you hardly mind.

"So, yes, it's weird. I know. But it's not my fault!" Hyunjin quickly scans the near-empty library at the raising of his voice. "Minho just keeps sending me you 'cuz he likes to tease me. That's all."

He stares at you and you stare back. A few seconds pass with quiet blinking before you realize you should say something.

"Oh."

Hyunjin groans, burying his beautiful face in his hands. You stare at his ashamed state, both pathetic and endearing. Truly, this isn't a big deal, but his dramatic reactions bring a small smile amidst the anxious atmosphere.

"So you think I'm pretty?" Hyunjin lets out a scoff, shaking his head at your question. "Is that really all you got from that?"

You shrug, but the smile on your lips still lingers. "Maybe. But that does sound annoying. I'm sure you get tired of looking at my pretty face all the time." Hyunjin laughs, finally picking his head up to look at you. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes like moon crescents. He gleams in the artificial lighting and it casts beautiful shadows on his features.

"Have you ever thought about getting back at Minho?"

Hyunjin stops his cheery laughter, eyes growing curious. He pinches his eyebrows together in thought, "I mean, does blocking count? Cuz if so, then yes."

You shake your head, lower lip caught between your teeth as a mischievous thought comes to mind. "I was thinking something a little more."

-

It's hard for Hyunjin to angle the camera at you. His hands keep shaking, the phone threatening to fall from his grasp right on your face. You're looking up at the lens from your knees, mouth full of cock. Your knees slightly ache from the bathroom tile floor, but you pay no mind. The main center of focus is quietly gagging on Hyunjin's length. That women's bathroom may be empty, but the sound of wet pops and smack echoes in the room rather embarrassingly. 

With a hard suck, you pull away from his cock. Hyunjin lets out a whine, hips shaking as you replace your mouth with your hand. 

"Are you getting my good angles?" You can't help but tease with swollen lips. Even in a messy state, he nods. You can't see his face, but you can see the black, tangled hair that moves. 

"Pretty," he chokes out as you pump him. " So so so pretty."

You flash your teeth at the camera, "Aw! Thanks. Do you think Minho will think so too?"

"Ye- Mmf!" He cuts himself off by pinching his lips. You've wrapped your lips around his girth again, sucking the tip while you stroke his shaft. He whines and whines, unable to stay quiet while staring at you through the phone. 

The video is wobbly but if he slows the footage down, he might be able to screenshot a few good frames. There's just something surreal about indirectly looking at your mouth take him inch by inch. It's like you're his personal pornstar, though he's keen on making sure little no one gets to see how good you look.

You relax the back of your throat, slowly pushing him deeper until his pubes barely tickle your nose. A soft gag comes from you, but you're determined on deep-throating him at least once. Hyunjin uses his free hand to brush a few strands from your face, coaxing you. You hum in appreciation and fit the last few bits.

Hyunjin's tip presses deep against the deepest part of you, pulsing from your tight throat. You can tell he's trying not to move, to fuck into your hot mouth to not overstimulate you. 

But he wants to. He can taste the orgasm on his tongue. So close, so warm, but you look so good with wide eyes. Tears brimming your lashes as you hollow your cheeks. 

Hyunjin moans, a long, drawled-out sound that makes him throw his head back. "Fuck. You're gonna make me cum." 

It's too difficult to speak, so you gently rock against his hips instead. As much as you would love for Hyunjin to bruise your mouth, this isn't the time. Right now, putting on a good show for the camera is your priority. To make sure you suck dick so good that Minho never bothers Hyunjin again with pictures.

His tip repeatedly hits the back of your throat, a little salty from the oozing precum. With one of your hands, you massage his balls. Hyunjin mewls at the sensation, toes curling in his shoes. His breath turns jagged, and now he can't help himself. His gentle hand turns rough as he reaches the back of your head. He makes a tight fist with your hair and drives his cock deep.

You gag, the tears finally falling from the relentless pace Hyunjin's set. He's already so close, you might as well let him use you.

"Look into the camera." Hyunjin's voice is rasp. While you were trying not to choke, your eyes were unfocused. Now you're trying desperately to look into the phone, mostly likely going cross-eyed from the force his his thrusts. 

His cock twitches in your mouth and you brace for the spurts of cum. Even as your prepare, you can't help the gurgled squeak you make on Hyunjin's cock at the salty release. He shoots his hot load down your throat, and all you can taste and feel is cum. Your hand tightens around his sack and they tense in your hold. 

He's moaning, panting like a dog behind the phone. Hyunjin gives a few more sloppy thrusts before pulling out, cum dribbling from the corner of your mouth. 

You groan as your throat empties, using your tongue to wipe the semen as Hyunjin's cock slowly goes down. Once the cum has collected, you flatten your tongue to give a good look to the camera before tucking your tongue in your mouth, swallowing.

"And, scene!"

note! I am in a but of a rut, but hopefully this'll help me get back on game!

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz hard hours #skz hyunjin #skz #hyunjin stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin hwang #hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #skzsmut

[tiredfox64]

Dad bi han headcanons?

Father, Father I Crave Violence

Prior notes: FATHER, INTO YOUR HANDS I COMMIT MY SPIRIT! I feel like you thought of this cause I reblogged that artist’s drawing and I will not say their name cause I don’t like involving them in my bs.

Who’s your daddy?: Bi-Han, congratudolences he got you pregnant!

Warnings ‼️: HE IS THE FATHER *camera man goes crazy*

Big, muscly, meanie (Regular Bi-Han)

He needs a son. That’s the heir to the Lin Kuei right there.

When the kid is five he will be trained to defend himself.

Don’t worry he won’t bring the kid on missions he’s not dense.

He has a soft spot for his children. Though he is cold those are still his blood children. He wants to take good care of them.

He won’t let any of his assassins take care of or even hold his child.

Bi-Han can be a little paranoid, he worried someone will hurt his child. He can never be too careful. Once the child is old enough to defend themselves then they will have some freedom.

That motherfucker (literally) will be pumped to see if his children gain his ice abilities. If they gained your abilities that’s ight too.

The max is two. No more no less. Don’t matter if it’s two brothers or a brother and sister.

Okay but what about a girl?

Overprotective and overbearing oh gosh.

If anyone in the Lin Kuei takes a peak at her they are getting smacked. Poor guys.

Bi-Han will teach her how to defend herself as well. She needs to know. He will even give her a knife to protect herself (which you take away cause she is only five)

If the son comes first it’s his duty as the older brother to protect his sister from any nasty boys.

When they seem ready (like maybe 15) they can start going out for missions. Simple ones at first. Gotta build them up.

I know I said he will teach them to defend themselves but he will teach them to fight eventually. Yes there is a difference.

His daughter wants to play. Ehhhhh, fine, just because she is crying. But he will be taking it too seriously.

“That’s not how you pour tea.” “Your dolls can’t have multiple partners.” “The dog can’t talk.” You have no imagination sir.

What do you mean they need toys? He didn’t have many toys back when he was a kid. Give them a stick and a rock.

Fine, he’ll get them toys. Only a few though. They need to be focused on other things.

Puberty is gonna suck for everybody involved.

Pads? Yes. Tampons and diva cups? What are those?

You know what helps with cramps, working out. Yeah he’s that kind of dad. They don’t need Advil they got this.

The boys are fighting again. Now Bi-Han is yelling again. Has your tinnitus kicked in yet?

He doesn’t care what they are into they just better be loyal to the Lin Kuei.

Titan Bi-Han (y’all know why I made it separate)

It’s very similar.

He isn’t too overbearing he is still overprotective.

There are too many sharp things in the temple oh lord hide them!

Bi-Han, they can’t even walk how are they gonna reach the butter knives on the tall counter.

He is serious but I think he would crack a dad joke or two.

“Dad, I’m hungry.” “Hi hungry, I’m the Lin Kuei’s grandmaster.” FEED THE KIDS STUPID!

Please don’t take my pupusas away cause I made that joke.

They will be begging him to teach them to fight. He is hesitant but eventually gives in.

Two? Why stop there? If you’re comfortable he would like a few more. Don’t worry he’s not asking for six.

Spoils them! Spoils them to death! His daughter gets anything she wants. His son can have that puppy. They just have to share NO ARGUING!

Only the most trusted of his clan can take care of his children, aka Kuai Liang and Tomas.

Puberty will never be easy in any timeline.

Pads and tampons? Yes. Diva cup? Still don’t know what that is.

Heating pads, medicine, working out, curling up into a ball on the floor, he understands his daughter is in pain.

The boys can’t fight in front of their dad or else he will get scary.

He cares about what they like and will get concerned over some things. I don’t think he will appreciate them liking technology or having a fascination with Volcán de fuego (cause like I never did I promise). They just need to stay loyal to the Lin Kuei or else they will break his heart.

After notes: I did this one earlier cause my dad said some crazy shit this morning. He said marmalade is disgusting and strawberry jam was created by the devil. The only good kind and only kind there should be is grape. And then he went on about how he knew someone who would ask him to drink a bottle of bourbon and find Jesus. I told him “dad, if you drink a whole bottle of bourbon you don’t find Jesus, Jesus finds you”. Very strange morning but the breakfast was good. Adiós!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk x reader #mk x you #mk fanfic #bi han x you #bi han x reader #bi han mk #bi han sub zero #bi han mortal kombat #bi han #sub zero x you #sub zero x reader #sub zero #headcanon

[dira333]

What's in a passion? - Osamu Miya x Reader

requested by @notsochillnerd - tagging @emmyrosee bc she loves Osamu

Sometimes you really hate your boyfriend.

Yes, yes, he's perfect, you know, with his stupidly good-looking face and his muscular body and his kind heart and his awful talent and, even worse, his passion, that he follows, without a doubt.

It's worse with Atsumu, you think, because you don't love him nearly as much but he's the same. Talented, good-looking and so sure of himself and his passion that he didn't even go to College. Now he's playing for the Black Jackals like it's how the earth should turn.

"Baby?" Samu's voice is muffled through the bathroom door. You huff.

"Are you still alive? You've been in there for at least half an hour."

"The water's still hot," you yell back. Which isn't true. But you don't want to get out. As long as you're in the bathtub you don't have to learn. As long as you don't have to learn you don't have to think about your studies. And as long as you don't have to think about them you don't have to face the most annoying question of your life - what do you want to do?

Not in the way Samu asks you after dinner, wiggling his eyebrows as he waits for the answer.

Not in the way you ask Samu every time he comes home from work, hoping that just this once he'll not make dinner himself but run down to the fast-food joint with you.

What do you want to do with your life?

-

"Are you coming to bed soon?" Samu asks from the kitchen. You don't know what he did in there until now, it's spotless anyway.

"Mhm," you say noncommittally, typing another line. You still need to finish this assignment. And you should get ahead on your reading.

"It's after midnight, babe, you need some sleep."

"Yeah, sure." Wait, do you write this word like that? Does it even mean what you think? You open another browser tab and type it in, waiting for it to load only to be interrupted by warm hands grabbing your sides.

"You've got ten seconds to save everything before I carry you to the bedroom."

"Samu!" You whine, "I have to get this done."

"No, you don't. Well, not tonight at least. You still have three more days to finish this. You need your sleep."

"Well, what do you care?" You snap. Surprise flutters over Samu's face like butterfly wings.

"What do you mean, baby, you know I love you." He sounds distraught, so pathetic you could almost mistake him with his brother. And it's your fault and your fault only.

You do the only thing you can do in a situation like this. You cry.

-

It's not a comfortable thing, holding a conversation like this at one in the morning when even your bones are tired and your alarm is gearing up to call on you in a few hours for yet another tiring day.

But Samu firmly believes in "never going to bed angry" even more than he believes in "getting enough sleep".

Is it hard to admit that you're a little jealous of his passion? Or, not necessarily his passion, but that he has one? Yes. It makes you feel foolish, like a little kid pointing an accusing finger at a grown-up.

But it's true. And it's Samu. He doesn't snicker, he doesn't call you pathetic even though you'd deserve it. Instead, there's understanding blooming in his eyes.

"Do you still love me?" He asks. You nod and swear and promise that you've never loved him less. So he tucks you into bed like he'd been planning to for hours, presses comforting kisses over the furrow of your brows.

"We'll get through this," he promises. You fall asleep because you trust him.

-

Ginjima brings over his little cousin on the weekend. The girl's five and even though you resemble a mess more like a human being, Kaede's seriously convinced that you're her idol.

"Can we play doctor?" She asks, holding up a stethoscope.

"Where did you find that?" "T'was in the box." She points at a box in the cupboard she most definitely isn't supposed to go through. At least she didn't find anything dangerous.

"Of course we can. Do you want to be the doctor?"

"No," she shakes her head. "You're the doctor, I'm a nurse, like Momma. Toshi can be sick."

"Thank you," Ginjima snorts. "I always knew you cared about me."

"Can I be a patient too?" Samu asks, pressing a hand against his chest. "I think my heart is going to fast. Can you listen to it, Doctor?"

"Dork," you call him, but little Kaede nods and tells him to sit on the couch so that she can get to him better.

And it's weird, how easily you slip on the stethoscope. Maybe you've watched too much Grey's Anatomy on top of your lessons, have read too far ahead in your books but you have no problem finding the right spot, Samu's heartbeat like a symphony in your ears.

"It's cold," he hisses. You can't bring yourself to tease him.

"Is he sick?" Kaede asks, pulling you out of your reverie. You nod with your gravest face. "He's lovesick. No cure, I'm afraid."

Kaede gasps in shock, but Samu laughs, his body shaking, knocking into you.

-

"Can I ask you a question?"

Suna furrows his brows. "When did you ever have to ask, Samu?"

Your boyfriend smiles his most innocent smile. You fear the worst.

"Did you always want to play volleyball?"

Suna snorts. "Nah. And you know that." He must sense your confusion because he turns, golden eyes glinting with amusement. "I thought about becoming an influencer instead in my third year."

"Why didn't you?"

"Ah," he shrugs, "I didn't want something I like doing to turn into a job, you know? That would take all the enjoyment out. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate playing volleyball professionally, but I'm already thinking ahead, figuring out options for when I'm done with it. Unlike someone else..." He can't help but dig into Tsumu and the latter never backs down from a Challenge. Soon it's an all-out fight on the table and you're sitting in the middle of it.

Samu leans into you, head an your shoulder, mouth pressed against your ear.

"There are plenty of options," he reminds you softly, "You can still figure out what you want to do."

-

"'m not hungry," Samu declines your offer for snacks. That's worrying enough. He's resting on the Couch, a rare sight this early in the evening.

"You good?" You ask, smoothing a hand through his messy hair. He nods.

"'m fine. Just some weird stomach issue."

"Yeah? What are the symptoms?"

"They're gross, I don't wanna talk about them."

"Stinky?"

"Mhm."

"Did you drink enough?"

He nods, wraps your arms around you to pull you in. When you snuggle into his side like you always do, he's barely able not to flinch.

"What's hurting, boo?" You ask, now a little more worried.

"Just my stomach. I think you kneed me there a little."

You didn't, but he's unwilling to talk more about it.

Still, you can't help but keep an eye on him. He complains about pain in his lower back, convinced he pulled something when he lifted bags of rice earlier. You try to massage the area but he pulls away quickly, claiming it hurts to be touched, so you get him the heating pad you use for period pains.

He falls asleep soon after and you're barely able to get him up and into bed.

When you wake up at night to use the toilet and grab a drink you're surprised to find him flushed and feverish. Your little worry grows as you take his temperature, try to figure out what he could be suffering from.

It's like solving a riddle and every clue you have could mean a thousand different solutions.

It's only when he wakes up, parched and whiny, throwing up immediately after downing a glass of water, that the dots connect.

"Samu," you kneel next to him. "Where does it hurt the most?"

"Stomach."

You let your hands wander, just the gentlest touch until he hisses when you reach the area around his navel. Following a hunch you move down toward the lower right side of his abdomen and he curses loudly, telling you exactly what you didn't want to hear.

"Babe, get up, we're going to the hospital."

"What?" His eyes are blown wide. You press a soothing kiss to his lips. "I'm not a doctor but this looks a lot like appendicitis. I'd rather get it looked at right now instead of having you go through emergency surgery."

Is it difficult to get a sleepy, pained, sick man to the hospital with nothing but public transport and determination? Yes.

But it's worth it, you think when you explain the symptoms and the doctor nods with a serious expression, complimenting you for your swift course of action.

You get to hold Samu's hand through every step of the examination, press one last kiss to his lips when they prep him for surgery.

"I'm going to wait outside," you promise, "Call everyone who needs to know. In a few hours we're going to laugh about this, I promise."

He pulls you in, mouth pressed against your ear. "Nothing's going to happen to me with you at my side."

And maybe, you think as they wheel him away, as you wait for the first call to connect, you've never been on the wrong path.

You just lost a little sight of what it meant to be here.

#my writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #osamu miya #miya osamu #miya twins #osamu x reader #samu x reader #osamu fluff #samu fluff

[nu-suave]

SO, WHERE FROM HERE? feat. getou suguru

word count: 2066

summary: you find suguru in your kitchen, months after his defection from jujutsu society. things go better than expected. a/n: sorry if the pacing is weird. i didn't want to beta read because thinking about beta reading reminds me of the assignment i have due in two days

“I hate him,” you say to yourself, alone in the bathroom as your fingers dig harshly into your temples. “I hate him, I hate him, I don’t like him. I don’t want to make friends with him. I don’t want him to apologise to me. I don’t–”

There’s shuffling in your kitchen. Seven minutes ago, there was a knock on your door. You’d known, since you messaged Suguru three weeks ago begging to see him, that he would show up sometime. Well, you hadn’t known, but you’d heavily suspected. He’d left all of you without a word months ago - Satoru, Shouko, you. It was like one day, he was there (albeit depressive and withdrawn) and the next, he was a wanted man. He’d killed a village of people. He and Satoru had a run-in so bad that Satoru still refuses to say his name.

He’s now sitting in your lounge.

Your hands are clammy. What do you do in this situation? You’d been so awfully lonely when you sent that message. All you’d wanted was your best friend back, to talk to him and understand his reasoning and see where he was coming from. Why he did what he did. If he really hated all of you the way Satoru claimed - if, despite everything that happened, he was still the Suguru you miss so dearly.

“I hate him,” you repeat dully. “I don’t- I don’t want to forgive him. I hate him.”

It’s not working. Shouko had told you that manifestation works wonders on an unsettled mind, but she was clearly lying. You don’t know why you trusted her word. She’s studying medicine, not psychology, and what tests she does take she only scores so high because of the cheating tactics she’s refined under three years of Yaga’s vigilance. You try once more. “I hate him.”

Yeah, it’s not working. Your mouth is thick with cotton, an awful churning in your gut that once, you would have mistaken for nerves. It’s still nerves, just not born from that vague fluster he’d incite in you. It’s dread, plain and simple. You’re terrified of things going wrong. Of him being unjustified. Of messing things up.

Not of messing things up, actually, because there’s nothing to mess up. You hate him, remember?

You kind of feel hypnotised as you step out of the bathroom, steps a slow shuffle and vaguely light-headed. Suguru looks different. He’s switched out the uniform he practically slept in for monk robes, and his hair’s been left to grow out. It was always long, but intentionally - now, his bangs aren’t carefully trimmed, his hair isn’t meticulously slicked back into its bun. He keeps it long, and down, falling prettily around sharp eyes.

Regretfully, he’s always been pretty. It’s not until now that you really find yourself wishing otherwise.

“Hi,” you say lamely, “sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry,” he replies, voice surprisingly warm. He’s got one ankle resting on his knee, your most recent book open in one hand as he skims the pages. “My arrival was surprising. I understand.”

“I didn’t think you’d come.” You hover in the lounge, watching him flip through your book as if nothings out of the ordinary. “Right! Do you want something to drink? Coffee?”

“I’m fine. I don’t know if I’ll stay long.” He turns his gaze to you as he says that, characteristically intense and yet unfamiliarly guarded. You settle awkwardly onto the sofa. “You said you wanted to see me.”

“Yeah.” Your words are too soft - you hate him, you hate him, you hate him. “I didn’t think you’d reply.”

“I was in the area.”

“Right.” Awkward silence lingers between the pair of you. “So, how have you been?”

“Fine. Better than I’ve been in a while.” He pauses. “I adopted two girls.”

“Oh?” Your heart thuds in your throat. “That’s nice. I always thought you’d make a good dad.”

“It’s turning out to be a harder challenge than I expected.”

You’re both silent once more. God, this is awful. “Hey, Suguru–”

“Listen, I–”

You shut your mouth. He shuts his. This atmosphere; stilted, awkward, like you’re strangers struggling for small talk instead of best friend’s of several years finally reunited. Well, he’s your best friend. You know you were always second place to Satoru. You try again. “Suguru.”

He replies with your name.

“I, um,” you lace your fingers together in an attempt to keep them still in your lap. “I just… I wanted to say- that is, um, that I missed you. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Before your eyes, he softens; his shoulders relax, his gaze turns languid, his uncomfortable grip on your book changes. It snaps shut, the soft sound echoing through the room. “I missed you too. You… you meant a lot to me. Mean a lot to me. I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye.”

“It’s okay,” you huff, even though it’s not. “I don’t suppose you being wanted was planned. Besides, from what I hear, you weren’t the nicest with your goodbyes to Satoru.”

He winces. “...How is he?”

“Not well. He misses you. We all do.”

Suguru hums.. He’s got the perfect voice for it; soft and lilting, a vague hum high in his throat. “I didn’t want to leave. I just…” he trails off.

“Take your time.” You press your laced hands down in your lap. Your arms are stiff against your side. “I, um, would like to know why you left. Why you took such… extreme actions. I wish you’d told me what you were planning. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed it.”

“It’s okay,” he says, about as honest as your own. “It’s okay. It’s just that… Satoru is on another level, you know? He’s the strongest - we can’t reach him anymore. I can’t reach him anymore. We can’t live off his ambition, and I finally found mine. I ended up struggling with it, with deciding what was right and wrong and how I felt about it.”

“About what?”

“About everything.” His eyes flutter shut as he relaxes into the seat. “Non-sorcerers… they have no idea what we do for him. I always thought we should protect them - that they’re weaker than us, so it’s our duty as the strong to defend them. But time passed, Riko - the star plasma vessel - died, Haibara died. It put a lot of things into perspective.”

You nod. Suguru doesn’t see it. He continues anyway. “Suddenly, I was asking: what’s the point in this? In any of this? Why do we have to fight and die and watch everyone around us be killed just for the safety of some… some monkeys that didn’t even know what we did for them? How is that fair to us?”

“Don’t call them that,” you say sharply. His eyes open, jaw flexing as he stares at you. “I never agreed with you on that, you know? It’s never been fair to us but it always felt patronising, the way you’d talk about non-sorcerers. Like they were so weak, you just had to help them because they’d be helpless without you.”

“Wouldn’t they be?” He asks. “Curses are born from their inability to control cursed energy. If they were all dead, there’d be no more curses. No more need to continue this, where everyone’s always dying for them and then those that don’t have kids to die in their stead.”

“I don’t want to fight with you over this. Why’d you kill that village?”

“For my girls.” Suguru’s lips purse, like he wants to continue what was clearly building up to be a fight, but he lets it go. His arms fall slack in his lap. “The village… they wanted to kill them. My girls are both sorcerers, and they picked up on it. They brought me in to exorcise them, and they were kept chained in this small, filthy cell. They were so scared. They hadn’t been fed properly and hadn't been able to shower in weeks. The leader was there, talking about how these two girls - they’re only six, you know that? - were a blight on the village and a bad omen, and they wanted to kill them. I beat them to it.”

How remarkably Suguru, to want to protect those two girls. He’s always been protective of his underclassmen at Jujutsu High, it’s no surprise he’d go this far. And yet, mass murderer. You remind yourself once again that you’re supposed to hate him. “So you killed them.”

“I killed them.” He confirms. “Witnessing that brutality… it makes it hard to feel any sympathy for non-sorcerers. They were like that after Riko, you know? Clapping endlessly at her dead body. Satoru asked me if we should kill them all. A part of me wishes he’d said yes.”

You nod slowly. It’s hard, biting down the immediate revulsion, the way it battles with your trust and affection. “I don’t think this is the right way to go about it, Suguru. The- the complete disregard for life among Jujutsu society, I don’t think the best way to go about fixing it is slaughtering innocent people. It’s kind of a, uh, systemic issue? Killing non-sorcerers isn’t going to stop the higher-ups from sending people to die.”

“What can I do?” He asks, rhetoric. “I’m already wanted.”

You reach out over to him. You hate him, you hate him. You miss him more. Your hand clasps his, half leaning out of the couch. He meets you halfway, and it dangles somewhat awkwardly in the air until you tug on it, gesturing for him to sit beside you. He does. “Yeah. You are. Do you regret it?”

“I don’t know. I feel happier.”

“Okay.” Your thumb rubs patterns into the warmth of his hand, running over the smooth ridges of his knuckles. You keep your eyes focused there, between you, rather than on his face. “I don’t agree with you, but okay.”

“Okay?”

Your eyes flutter shut, breath shuttering in your chest. His other hand moves, grasp fragile, to tenderly cup the back of your neck - to guide it into leaning against his shoulder. God, you missed him. You missed him so much it hurts. “Okay. I can… do you want to talk to Satoru again?”

“No.” Clipped, sharp, immediate. You suppose you’ll have to take what you can get. Feel like a bit of a monster, honestly, for not fighting him on it. “I can’t.”

“That’s alright,” you murmur, words pressed into the meat of his shoulder, cheek rubbing against the fabric of his robes. “Would you be willing to change? To not kill anyone else? At least for now?”

His grip on your hand tightens. “Why?”

“We can fix this,” you swear, even if you don’t know if it’s true. “We can resolve this, I think. We’ll find a way, if you want to.”

“Okay. But no Satoru.”

He’s not so far down this path that he doesn’t see reason. You couldn’t be more grateful. Before you sits Getou Suguru, mass murderer, your best friend. One of those titles holds more weight than the other. “No Satoru,” you repeat, “but you promise not to kill anyone else.”

“If I can help it,” he says, which is probably the best you can get. “And I’m not promising anything else. I don’t… I need to change things. I can’t…”

“I understand,” you soothe. You don’t, not really, but you will - for his sake, for your own, for the chance of your continued friendship. For what remains of the blossoming relationship you had before everything fell apart. “Just try. Please?”

He nods, the weight heavy against your skull.

“And I want to meet your kids.”

“What?”

“Your kids. They need someone aside from you in their life. I want to meet them.”

He huffs, the puff of air soft against your head. “You’re impossible.”

“This is my condition, Suguru. I’m meeting your girls.”

“Okay. They’ve been wanting to meet you, anyway.”

“You told them stories about me? They better have been flattering.”

“How could they not?” The words are tender, caressing the skin of your cheeks and settling deep in your chest. “Don’t be too nice to them. I want to come out of your meeting still the favourite.”

“Hard ask,” you reply. “I’m going to impress the hell out of those kids. Do they like Barbie, or are they more Monster High kind of girls?”

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x reader #getou x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto x you #suguru getou x reader #suguru geto x reader #getou x you #suguru x you

[syddsatyrn]

⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧

Chapter Three: The Queen's Return

Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak.

⛧Words: 3.2K

⛧Summary: Lilith's return brings a wave of tension, Lucifer navigates complicated feelings while you try to remain professional and devoid of emotion. As devastated as you are, you still have a job to uphold.

⛧Notes: Thank you all for the overwhelming support with this fic! I have never had so many notes and lovely comments! After much deliberation, I have decided to continue this series. I will tag as many people as I can. Special thanks to @iivantablackii for helping me organize some ideas and come up with plot points. Check out her Adam x Eve Fic (Here) Its so good!

⛧Tag list: @loslox @tiedyedghoulette @naiadic @elyssialumengard @lilteamushroom

As dawn broke over the horizon, you stirred in Lucifer's embrace. The events of the previous night felt like a dream, but his presence beside you reassured you that it was all real. You recall those sweet words that were exchanged last night, and how his lips felt against yours. His peaceful expression as he slept filled your heart with a sense of contentment you had never known before. You gently traced the contours of his face, committing every detail to memory.

The sunlight slowly illuminated the room, casting a warm glow over both of you entwined in each other's arms. Lucifer began to stir, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. A soft smile played on his lips as he pulled you closer, savoring the moment of quiet intimacy between you.

The idea of a relationship with the King of Hell was no longer out of the question, you were free to enjoy his attention and affection. Well, at least within the confines of the manor it was allowed. You decided it was best to Let Lucifer take the reins when it comes time for a public appearance. Regardless, you felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders.

As the day progressed, Lucifer and you found yourselves falling into a comfortable routine within the manor. The staff noticed a change in the atmosphere, a certain lightness and happiness that seemed to radiate from the two of you whenever you were together. It was as if a new energy had breathed life into the once solemn halls of the estate.

Lucifer seemed to walk a little taller, his usual air of confidence now tinged with a newfound softness when he looked at you. He would steal glances in your direction when he thought you weren't looking, a small smile playing on his lips. And you, in turn, felt your heart swell with love every time he reached out to touch your hand or brushed a stray lock of hair away from your face. You both made sure the household staff never saw the two of you stealing kisses or holding hands.

Despite the unspoken rules and boundaries that still loomed over your relationship, you couldn't deny the connection that had formed between you and the King of Hell. It was a delicate dance, this newfound love between a monarch and his closest confidante, but one worth every risk.

But it was in those moments, behind closed doors and in the quiet of the night, that your bond with Lucifer truly flourished. He would share stories with you about his time in Heaven, about the burdens he carried and the sacrifices he made. You, in turn, would listen intently, offering words of comfort and understanding.

As the days turned into weeks, the line between duty and desire began to blur. Lucifer would often find any excuse to seek your company, he would often summon you to his study for a few kisses and to feel your fingers running through his blonde hair. Late into the evening, you would wait until all the staff had left, and quietly slip down the hall and into Lucifer's room for some sleepy cuddles. Eventually, you would drift off to sleep and have to sneak back to your room the next morning without running into any of the maids.

You had delivered his mail to his study and set it on his desk. Lucifer grinned as he suddenly pulled you into his lap, you let out a small gasp as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You smiled as he pressed his lips against yours tenderly, your face turned several shades of pink and you broke the kiss. His hands traced gentle patterns on your back, sending shivers down your spine.

"Is it hot in here, or is it just you?" Lucifer says as he looks at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. You couldn't help but laugh at his cheesy line, feeling the tension dissipate between you.

"Maybe it's just you," you reply, teasingly nudging him. You felt his fingers graze your cheek, tracing your jawline before He slowly closes the gap between you both once again. Another kiss that filled you with longing, but you quickly came back to earth.

“I have to finish up my work, I can’t stay.” You say with a giggle. Lucifer nuzzles your shoulder, he pouts and squeezes you a little tighter.

“Oh c’mon, you’re always working.” He says, hoping you’ll just give in and ditch the rest of your duties. As if you would ever consider such a thing.

"I promise I'll make it up to you later," you say, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before slipping out of his lap. Lucifer watches you go with a mixture of longing and amusement in his eyes. You exit the study with pink cheeks and a small smile.

Lucifer grabs the mail off the desk and sorts through it, one letter in particular stood out. The handwriting looked very familiar, almost too familiar. He grabs his letter opener and carefully opens the envelope. As soon as he saw the way his name was written he knew exactly who it was from.

“Lucifer- I know it's been a long time, and I know you might still be upset with me. I’ve decided to pay you and Charlie a visit. I do miss you both, despite taking my leave. Love always - Lilith”

Lucifer’s heart sank into his stomach, his hands trembled slightly as he reread the letter from his former lover and the mother of his daughter, Charlie. He had not seen Lilith since she left them both seven years ago.

Lucifer couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. What could have prompted Lilith to break her silence now, after all these years? And what would her arrival mean for him, for you, and for Charlie?

Lucifer knew he had to tell you about Lilith's impending visit, to prepare you for the storm that was sure to follow. He rose from his desk and tucked the letter into his pocket.

Lucifer made his way through the manor, a heaviness in his steps that matched the weight in his heart. He found you in the garden, tending to the roses with a peaceful expression on your face. As you turned to him, a smile brightened your features, but it faltered when you saw the worried look in his eyes.

"Is everything alright, Lucifer?" you asked, concern lacing your words.

He took your hands in his. "There's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice tinged with worry. "Lilith is coming."

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Lilith's name.

You felt a mix of emotions swirling within you - curiosity, apprehension, and a tinge of jealousy that you quickly pushed aside. You used to serve Lilith for a short time, learning about her power and the strong connection she had with Lucifer. You knew that their relationship was complicated and filled with unresolved emotions, even after all this time.

Despite the aching pit in your stomach, you squeezed his hands and smiled softly. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes. “Whatever happens, I’m here for you.” You reassure him, his shoulders visibly relaxed at your words. Lucifer pulls you into a hug, seeking comfort in your arms.

"Thank you," he whispered against your hair, his voice barely above a breath. "I don't know what I would do without you by my side."

Those words trigger something in you, suddenly you have this overwhelming urge to protect him from such heartbreak. Lucifer never deserved what she did to him. To abandon him like that was just cruel and senseless. You hold him close and gently rub his back as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“What does she want?” You finally ask. Lucifer sighed, the weight of his past with Lilith evident in the lines etched on his face. He took a step back, creating some distance between you and him as he gathered his thoughts.

"I'm not entirely sure," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But knowing Lilith, it could be anything from seeking forgiveness to stirring up trouble."

-------------⛧

As days passed and Lilith's visit drew closer, tension hung thick in the air. When Charlie learned that her mother would be visiting, she came to stay at the estate. She prepared a very detailed presentation centered around her redemption hotel that she intends to show mother.

Charlie's arrival added another layer of stress to the impending reunion with Lilith. As she busied herself with preparing for her mother's visit, you couldn't help but notice the mixture of excitement and anxiety in her eyes. Charlie had always longed for her mother's acceptance, despite the pain and abandonment she had caused. It was clear that Lilith's presence evoked a plethora of emotions within both Lucifer and Charlie.

When Lilith’s car pulls up to the grand entrance of the manor, you stand next to Lucifer, your arms folded behind your back. Lucifer's demeanor shifted slightly as Lilith emerged from the vehicle. His posture straightened, his expression unreadable as he watched her approach. Lilith's long, blonde hair cascaded down her back like a veil, and her eyes held a mixture of guilt and determination. As she drew closer, a tense silence settled over the courtyard.

"Lucifer," Lilith began, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's been too long." Her gaze flickered to you briefly, acknowledging your presence before returning to Lucifer. His eyes held a mix of nostalgia, longing, and perhaps a flicker of hope. The King's gaze softens as she says his name, you immediately take notice.

Charlie interrupts their interaction by rushing out to greet her. She envelops Lilith in a tight embrace and Lilith hugs her back.

Lucifer held nothing but love in his eyes as he watched the reunion between Lilith and Charlie. Despite the complexities of their past, he couldn't deny the swell of bittersweet emotions that washed over him at the sight of his daughter's happiness.

Witnessing this made your heart shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. Despite your attempts to push away any feelings of jealousy or insecurity, they crept in and poisoned any hope you had of continuing this relationship with Lucifer.

Lilith turned to you. “It's been quite a while, Y/N. Its nice to see your familiar face”. You quickly bowed your head, placing your hand over your heart.

“The pleasure is all mine, my Queen.” You said, voice devoid of any emotion or warmth. Lucifer glances over at you, but you refuse to make eye contact. He’s all too familiar with that tone in your voice. Lilith may not pick up on it, but he knew you, something was wrong.

"Lilith," Lucifer said coolly, "to what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

Lilith bit her lip nervously, a hint of remorse crossing her face. "I've come to make amends, my dear," she said earnestly. "I know I hurt you deeply, and I regret my actions . I also came to spend some time with our daughter." Lilith looks over at Charlie, who is smiling from ear to ear.

Charlie’s smile softened some of the tension in the air as she looked at her mother with adoration in her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re here, Mom,” she said, her voice filled with genuine happiness. Despite the past, Charlie's longing for a connection with her mother was apparent in every word she spoke.

Lucifer remained silent, his gaze shifting between Lilith, Charlie, and you. You could sense the conflicting emotions swirling within him – the desire to protect his daughter from any more pain, the lingering love he once held for Lilith, and the growing affection he felt for you. It was a delicate balance that threatened to tip at any moment.

As Lilith settled into the manor, attempting to make amends and reconnect with Charlie, you found yourself observing their interactions closely. There were moments of laughter and shared stories, but also instances of tension and unspoken words. You couldn't help but feel like an outsider in your own home. How could you compete with such a beautiful creature?

She does everything with such grace and carries herself with confidence. She has a radiance that draws people in effortlessly, while you feel like a mere shadow in comparison. You no longer sat by Lucifer’s side during your meals, you would only speak when spoken to, and you definitely didn’t sneak into his room at night.

You spent your nights alone in your room, as did Lilith. They had an argument this morning during breakfast. You stood next to the door, awaiting your next command when Lilith started to complain about not sleeping in Lucifer’s bed with him.

“Luci, please? We used to share a bed all the time, and I miss that connection with you," Lilith pleaded, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

"Lilith, we've been over this. I can't just...go back to how things were." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. His voice was steady and his gaze flickered towards you for a brief second.

“You are so cruel.” She says with a huff.

“Says the woman who left her family for seven years.” Lucifer retorts.

“How dare you! To think I married such a selfish man.” Lilith raises her voice as she rises from her seat. She leaves the dining hall through the door you stood next to. Lucifer held his face in hands, looking defeated. You wanted to comfort him, you really did. But you couldn't bring yourself to move a muscle.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that," he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. You felt a pang of guilt for not stepping in, for not being able to ease his suffering.

"It's not your fault," you replied softly, finally finding your voice. "I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you." Lucifer stood up from the table and walked over to where you were standing by the door. Tears well up in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill over.

He reached out a hand towards you, hesitating for a moment before gently cupping your face. "Thank you for staying," he whispered, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "I know this is hard for you too."

You pulled Lucifer into a tight hug, he buried his face in your shoulder, attempting to hide the tears falling down his cheeks. You ran your fingers through his hair, offering silent comfort as he let out a shaky breath. After a few moments, Lucifer pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. "I don't know what I would do without you," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion.

You searched his eyes, seeing the sincerity and love within them. "You'll never have to find out," you whispered, a promise lacing your words. You wipe his tear stained face with your thumb as you offer him a small smile.

Lucifer brought his lips to yours in a tender kiss. It was soft and tentative at first, but soon deepened. It felt like the floodgates had been opened. It’s been days since you’ve had any physical contact with him, you didn’t realize how much you missed his affection. The world around you faded away, for a brief minute it was like Lilith was never there.

When you both part, he presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes as he breathes you in. You stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the sound of footsteps disrupted the moment. Charlie appeared in the doorway, a curious expression on her face as she took in the scene before her. There was a flicker of surprise in her eyes, quickly masked by a smile.

"Mom told me about when you two first met," Charlie said softly, her voice filled with warmth. "She said there was something special between you and Dad from the start."

Lucifer turned to his daughter, a softness in his gaze as he reached out a hand to her. "Charlie, there is something I need to discuss with you," he began, his tone serious yet tinged with hope. Your gaze flickered between Lucifer and Charlie. “I’ll leave you both to it, I’m going to go help the kitchen staff clean up.”

Lucifer motioned for Charlie to sit down at the table.

"I know this may come as a surprise, but Y/N and I have grown incredibly close over these past few weeks," Lucifer started. "And I've come to realize that love takes many forms…”

“Are you…not in love with mom anymore?” Charlie asks, her eyes wide with a mix of emotions. Lucifer sighed, the weight of his words heavy in the air.

"I will always care for your mother, Charlie. But no…things have changed and I don’t…see her the way I used to.”

“Dad, why didn’t you just tell me? Here I am, hoping you two will find some kind of spark and I can have my broken family back. I feel so stupid.” Her voice is filled with a mix of uncertainty and sadness.

“Sometimes relationships change and evolve in ways we never expect.” He paused, meeting his daughter’s gaze with sincerity. “Y/N has shown me a kind of love and understanding that I never thought possible. It’s different from what I shared with Lilith, but it’s real and profound in its own way.”

Charlie processed his words, her expression thoughtful as she looked down at her hands. “So, what does this mean for us?” she finally asked.

Lucifer reached out to take both of Charlie’s hands in his own. “It means that our family is changing, but it doesn’t mean it’s breaking apart,” he said gently. “Love is not a finite resource—it can expand to encompass more than we ever imagined.”

“I just wish you would have told me sooner. I thought we were going to start sharing more and build trust between us.” Charlie says and looks away slightly.

“Char Char, I absolutely intended to tell you as soon as I understood what was going on in my head. I needed time to come to terms with how I felt.” Lucifer tries to explain. "I know this is a lot to process, Charlie. But I want you to know that your feelings are valid, and I understand if this is hard for you,"

"I... I just need some time to think," she murmured, standing up from the table. "I'm going to go for a walk." With that, she left the dining room.

You told yourself you wouldn’t eavesdrop, but you couldn’t resist pressing your ear to the crack between the door and wall. A tear falls from the corner of your eye as you listen to Charlie. Are you breaking up a family? Your heart ached with the weight of the situation.

Lucifer let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. This is definitely not how he pictured this discussion going. He knew things would get complicated once Lilith got here, but he really thought he would get through to Charlie. Lucifer heads to his study to spend time alone contemplating about how he can fix this.

#hazbin hotel #syddsatyrn #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer x you #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin fanfic #lucifer x y/n

[alexa-fika]

Hey! Hey! Hey! 😝 I'm back

Anyways can I request a whitebeard pirates x fem child reader? (Maybe 5 years old?)

Reader is half bunny and she's always shy and a bit of a coward and her ears are always down like this

She's always with whitebeard (on his lap, beside him, or on his shoulders)

The crew gives her nicknames like buns, baby bun, bun bun, Cottontail

Oh and the crew is a little protective over reader because she's the smallest crew member on board 🥺

Maybe like the crew is trying to connect with reader? They thought that Marco would be the first one to connect with her (besides pops ofc) because he's quiet and calm but ironically she connect with ace first

Anyways don't forget to eat, sleep, and drink! Thank you~ ✨

Birds of a bunny ( Whitebeard pirates x F!rabbit!child!reader)

A/N okay okay lets ignore than its been an eternity and get straight into saying that despite me ABSOLUTELY COOKING HERE I kinda butchered the request din’t I ? I kind alet myself go but I just really wanted to get to one of your request at the least cosmo

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

Whitebeard hums, swishing around his drink and gulping a considerable amount

“They’re looking for you again,” he states, glancing at a small furry ball on his shoulders

She unfurls herself from her position, moving her drooping ears to uncover her face

“I know:..”

“They’re trying.”

“I know, I know that they are good people, but… they are so rowdy.”

He snickers at that, glancing away from her

“I think you should talk to them.”

She shakes her head at that

“Don’t be a brat. You have to talk to your brothers eventually, and if this is how it will be, then I Will have that be now, Boys.”

She looks at Whitebeard, her eyes widening as she shakes her head vigorously, not liking where this was headed

She squeaks as she jumps off his shoulder. As he reaches for her, hopping her way through the deck, attempting to get away from the crew as they all lunge to try to take hold of the bunny girl

She quickly made her way up to one of the lower crow nests, tucking herself small in the corner of it, ignoring the calls of the males down below

She is not alone for long as Ace, ever the nimble one, makes his way up into the crow’s nest, followed quickly by a half-transformed Marco who perches on the crow’s nest, their entrance being received by sobs from the kit

Ace sighs at the sight, swiftly picking her up

“No! Papaw! Papaw!” She cries, trying to get out of Ace’s hold to run back to the now retreating Captain as he heads for his quarters

“Hey, Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes

“Dokucha, It’s okay, take deep breaths for me.” Marco follows only to wince at his suggestion and was met by higher wails

“No! No! I want Papaw!”

He hums, dipping her

She shrieks as she suddenly finds herself upside down, giggling when he pulls her back up, her ears bouncing as she did

“Heard a laugh.”

She shakes her head, digging it into his shoulder

“No?” He questions, dipping her once again, grinning when her laughter followed on the way back up

“Well, I’m glad you are feeling better, Baby bun,” smiles Marco

Dokucha turned her attention towards the man, staring at him for a moment, her eyes glancing towards her limbs, his arms currently transformed into a pair of wings, his legs turned into two sharp, very sharp talons that gripped into the wood of the nest

“Bright aren-

He stops his words as she begins wailing again, turning her head away from him and trying to dig herself into Ace

“Hey, Hey, what’s wrong? It’s just Marco, I know he looks weird-

He receives an unimpressed glance from the phoenix at that

But he won’t hurt you.”

“No!!” She hollers

“He’s going to eat me,” she bellows

He stills at that, glancing down and back up to his brother; quickly understanding the situation, he stifles a snicker as he gestures toward Marco

“Baby bun, look at me.”

“No! I don’t taste good,” she wails

“Just look for a second.” her sobs continue as she dares to take a glance, her sobs lessening at the sight of a now fully human Marco standing in front of her

“See? Just a normal person, that was just my devil fruit,” he explains, reaching for her only to sigh as she scooched back

“Baby bun, come on, I swear I'm not going to hurt you,” Marco stated once they had returned back to the Deck of the ship; much to the surprise of the rest, she had decided to remain with Ace rather than anyone else despite all the warm and more peaceful greetings he had with everyone

“Marco, you’re terrible,” Haruta muttered

“I didn’t think you were the type to scare little girls,” Vista piped in

An irk mark began to grow on his forehead at the jabs his crewmates threw at him

“Shut up,” he grumbled

“Man, I had the wrong impression of you, Commander Marco,” Saber added in

“I always thought you were a good human, but I guess my first impression of you couldn’t be farther from the truth,” Kutatsu commented

“The next one to make a comment will be to see what kind of man I am,” he snapped, brows furrowed

“Gee, see that Cottontail? Now he wants to eat us. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!” laughed Thatcher as he looked at the girl in Ace’s arms while pointing at Marco

She glances at the chef, her lips beginning to tremble once again

“Hah?! What’s wrong, Cotton tail?!”

“You’re going to eat me!”

“What?! What gave you that idea, Cottontail!?” He questions a devastated look on his face as she repeated the words he mocked Marco for no longer than a minute ago

Izou chuckles at the scene unfolding

“You have something to share, Izou?!” Thatcher asked, glaring at the sniper, tears prickling in his eyes

“I believe she is referring to your… extravagant hairdo.”

“…”

“Cottontail! I'm not a bird, I swear! It’s hair! It’s hair,” he wailed, trying to hug the girl, only for tears to cascade down his face comically as she backed away from him, digging herself closer into Ace’s Embrace

Marco gives a pat on the man crying on his knees

“It’s alright, Thatch; I will protect her,” he mocks

“Shut up, you damn chicken” he wails

He grits his teeth at that, a sharp smile on his face

“You’re on cleaning duty for a month.”

“What the hell, man?! I'm a commander; you can’t do that,” he wails

Okay im going to do school assigment and im going to write another request hopefully!!

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece fluff #one piece x child!reader #oc x whitebeard pirates #whitebeard pirates x child!reader #whitebeard x reader #whitebeard pirates x reader #op whitebeard #portgas ace x reader #marco x you #marco x reader #one piece marco #marco the phoenix x reader #thatch x child!reader #oc x thatch #thatch x reader #thatch #thatch one piece #ace x y/n #ace x you #ace x reader #one piece ace #portgas d ace x reader #ace #whitebeard one piece #whitebeard crew #izou x reader

[o-vera-nalyzing]

Kipperlily getting power leveled by a teacher and still complaining about the bad kids feels like when white people complain about affirmative action and "diversity hires" without recognizing their own privilege

omfg this. this literally explains it so well😭😭😭

and like she’s so young and was obviously being manipulated but like. c’mon. ur known for being like the smartest bitch on the block let’s kick it into gear a bit and have some perspective.

and the kicker is she probably thought of it as ‘evening the playing field’ because of all the perceived advantages the bad kids had over her when in reality she had far more advantages than a lot of the bad kids even without porter helping them xp farm. and also didn’t they say they had been xp leveling since freshman year? which means that’s pre-rage stars so they literally thought they were the underdogs while porter hand feeding them xp.

and again i think it’s a bit close minded to not acknowledge that she was very young (and still is really) so it’s understandable for her to be misguided esp with jawbone being so connected that he can’t really give her great advice about it but he’s the one she’s going to for help. but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s straight up wrong and has like many clear countable advantages over the bad kids and instead of understanding that and maybe admitting they got to where they did through hard work and she could too if she did the same, she instead decided that it must be the opposite way around and she’s getting fucked cause her life is too good.

#i think she’s very complicated and a good character in the show but that in no way means she’s right #fantasy high junior year #fantasy high #adaine abernant #riz gukgak #gorgug thistlespring #kristen applebees #fig faeth #fabian aramais seacaster #kipperlilly copperkettle #original overanalyzing

[ataliagold]

Sip The Sunlight From Your Eyes

For @astrangersummer week 2 prompt 'afternoon nap'. Title from Not Yet/Love Run (Reprise) by The Amazing Devil.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: G

W/C: 705

Tags: Post Series 4 Volume 2, Everyone Lives, Established Eddie/Steve, Summer, Backyard BBQ, Afternoon Naps, Steve has Insomnia, Fluff

Summary: The whole gang has gathered at Steve's place for a summer BBQ. Part way through, Eddie realizes Steve is missing, and finds him fast asleep in the midday sun.

___

“Where does Steve keep his cups, hon?” Joyce was asking Eddie.

“Ah…they’re in the cupboard next to the fridge. On the right,” Eddie answered.

“Thanks, I had a look around for Steve to ask him but I couldn’t see him anywhere?”

Eddie frowned. He did a quick scan of the backyard, searching for his boyfriend. Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle were sprawled over the loungers by the pool. Hopper was at the grill, chatting away to Wayne and flipping patties. The kids were spread out in the grass, chatting intently about something, Max’s wheelchair parked up in the sun with El sitting close by.

But no Steve.

Eddie tried to think back to the last time he’d seen Steve this afternoon. He’d been there while Dustin had asked to use the pool, trying to mask the small wave of discomfort that had crossed his face at the request before nodding and waving the kid off towards it.

Dustin had been none the wiser, but Eddie was an expert at reading Steve Harrington by now. He knew the boy still hated that pool and got nervous whenever anyone was in it.

He’d been there when Max had arrived, pushing the girl to her requested spot and toeing on the brakes on the chair, holding a bag of candy out of the reach of the other kids and offering her first pick.

He’d been there to welcome Wayne in, to sheepishly accept the brief hug Wayne gave him, not yet accustomed to open affection from paternal figures in his life.

But then Eddie had lost track, had gotten stuck in a heated debate with Mike and Erica about their last campaign, and Steve had slipped out of his view.

“I’ll go take a look,” Eddie told Joyce.

She smiled and headed off in the direction of the kitchen. Eddie followed her inside but angled for the stairs, heading up towards Steve’s bedroom. He had a feeling that was where Steve would be, hoped he wasn’t coming down with yet another migraine…

He gently opened the door.

The sun was streaming in through the window and landing on the bed where Steve was sprawled out on his stomach, eyes closed and his lips slightly parted in sleep.

Eddie paused in the doorway. Just to take in the sight of his boyfriend, just to breathe for a moment because Steve Harrington was beautiful and till his dying day he’d never understand why Steve had chosen him.

But he had, and Eddie loved him.

Quietly, he approached the bed, one hand landing softly on the small of Steve’s back. The boy shifted under his touch, his eyebrows crinkling a little and a sigh leaving his lips.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie murmured. “You ok?”

“Mmm. Tired.”

“No migraine?”

“No.”

And that was good, at least. But Eddie knew Steve still wasn’t sleeping well at night, even months after the gates had closed for good and Vecna had been destroyed.

“Do you want to sleep for a little bit, sweetheart? I can wrap this up early, send everyone home after lunch.”

Steve frowned slightly and shook his head. “They’re having fun. Can hear them.”

Eddie listened for a moment, the sounds of the kids shrieking and laughing drifting in through the window with the warm breeze.

“S’nice,” Steve mumbled. “Sorry, I just came up to get some shorts for Dustin to swim in, he forgot his again. Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s alright, Stevie. I’ll grab the shorts, you stay here and rest.” Eddie leaned over and kissed Steve’s cheek.

“Was meant to help Hopper with the food,” Steve said, voice still thick with sleep.

“I’m sure he’ll survive, baby. Wayne’s with him anyway, I’ve already heard the two of them debating over how long to leave the patties before flipping them. They’re fine.”

“Mmm.” Steve was half-asleep again already, but he leaned into Eddie’s hand when he gently brushed his fingers across his cheek.

“Sleep well, Stevie.”

“Eds?”

“Hmm?”

“Kiss me?”

Eddie smiled, leant over and kissed him, gentle and slow, his boyfriend’s lips warm from the sun.

“Save me a burger,” Steve mumbled into his mouth, and then his breathing evened out, and just like that he was asleep again.

___

#stranger things #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #a stranger summer

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 12

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 12.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Pregnancy. labor, childbirth, health emergency, hospital stay, talk of living wills and things going wrong, traumatic birth, mentions of death/possibility of death, reassurance, emotional hurt/comfort. Summary: Months after going public with your relationship with your soulmate, you and Marcus get the phone call you've been waiting for: Sydney has gone into labor! Notes: The migraines and the pain aren't gone but the story continues! This week is a rollercoaster, my darlings. I hope you enjoy 🧡

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

The call came late on a Saturday night during the first full week of September. Busy getting ready to go out for a later-than-usual date, you had jumped straight up in the air when your phone started ringing. The words 'labor' and 'hospital' got you and Marcus moving instantly, and you were off to meet Juan and Sydney at Sibley Memorial Hospital faster than a heartbeat.

“Now, it’s gonna be awhile.” Marcus warns you, even as he speeds towards the hospital. “I might have to come back to get you some clothes.”

"As long as it doesn't take as long as Junie did to be born," you joke, trying to dispel your own tensions even as you fidget in your seat. "Mom was in labor for twenty-six hours. I think Syd will just reach in and pull the baby out before she waits that long."

“She’ll be yelling that she has a dinner menu to put out.” Marcus snorts, understanding how frustrated Juan has been when his wife refused to slow down until the very end.

"If she doesn't have her recipe notebook out within an hour of giving birth, I'll be astonished." She never slows down, your best friend, and you adore her despite it being worrying sometimes. At least you got her to agree to the more-than-generous New Parent Leave package the inn has adopted. They're both technically on your payroll so you know they'll be well taken care of.

“The new sous chef she hired to help the old one step into her shoes has worked out really well so far.” Marcus knows that talking about the inn will help you focus. Keep you from worrying yourself up into a state until you can lay your eyes on Sydney.

"She needed another set of hands anyway." Just because you know what he's doing doesn't mean you're not grateful, and you fidget in your seat before glancing down at your phone for the thousandth time. No new texts. You just have to remind yourself that that is a good thing. "Hopefully this new guy will work out and she'll keep him on long term."

“Yeah, it’s nearly a fully house every night in the restaurant.” Business in the inn might have taken a slight hit from the negative press, but the food was still bringing in the locals.

"Thank god for that." Over the last few months your bookings haven't been too stellar, but you've been making up for it with restaurant patrons and special event bookings. At least you had room enough to accommodate Marcus's parents when they came up in July. "I don't want to think about what would have happened if we'd lost restaurant sales along with bookings."

“I’m just happy that the ‘anonymous sources’ have tapered off lately.” The accusations are still out there but you and Marcus have been laying low for now.

“What I wouldn’t give for two seconds with our sniveling exes.” It’s obvious that it has been Sam and Vanessa feeding things to the gossip columnists, although technically all you have is your say-so. They’re being clever enough to make sure that there is no paper trail and nothing being said that marks them as the obvious source of the negative rumors. “Why do we have to be the better people?” You gripe with a pout. “We could just as easily say made up shit about them. For all we know, they were the ones having an affair and this is a whole situation of they doth protest too much.”

“I don’t think so.” Marcus would love for that to be the case. “That week of the state dinner, he was sick.” He reminds you. “I think Vanessa went over to his house and somehow discovered she’s his soulmate. She told me that she had just found out, not that she just met him.” He theorizes. “And now, they are twisting their own narrative, but I don’t understand why.”

“If they’re trying to discredit Mom through me, it’s not working.” Though your business may have taken a hit, your mother’s first term has been fairly impressive so far. She’s getting her legislation moving at a brisk clip and her focus on the economy is already strong. You sigh, though, pushing out the bad thoughts, and squeeze his hand over the gear shift. “They don’t get to ruin our goddaughter’s birth. That’s not in the cards.”

“Nope.” Marcus made sure to pack the gifts for mother and baby in the car while you were rushing around to get dressed. Both of you are excited. “Doesn’t matter, today is about Sydney and the baby.” He chuckles. “And poor Juan too. I know he’s a wreck right now.”

“He’s so excited and so nervous.” The clock on the dashboard reads ten minutes until midnight and you squeeze his hand again to relieve some of your own nerves. It’s not like you’re the one having a baby. There’s no reason to be nervous, but you are. For your best friend and your goddaughter and for Juan who is like a big brother to you.

“Yes he is.” Marcus tosses you a grin. “I know he’s supposed to be handing out cigars, but I managed to get my hands on a box of very nice ones. When the baby is born, I’m going to give them to him. To celebrate the important milestones with.”

“They’re the ones your dad smokes, aren’t they?” Beaming that grin right back at him, the conjured memory of the vanilla and spice scent of Matthew Pike’s favorite cigars is easy to conjure. “He’ll love that.”

“I hope so.” Marcus grins. “I can just imagine how proud he’s going to be. He’s going to be crying as he holds his child for the first time.”

“He’s going to be a leaky faucet by the time we get to the hospital,” you predict with an affection laugh. “They deserve this. They already love that little girl so much and they’re going to be amazing parents.”

“Yes they are.” He can’t help but be a little envious, although it’s not a sharp feeling because he knows it will happen for the two of you soon enough. He will be content with cuddling his new goddaughter.

There’s little traffic at this time of night, and before you know it you and Marcus are parking and heading inside to track down the room number that Juan texted to you. Sydney and Juan’s families will be alerted when the baby is born, but it was their wish to have you and Marcus in hand for the birth. You’ll be right there in the delivery room with Syd and Juan while Marcus keeps the families updated in a group chat. You’re co-captains of Team Moral Support and you’re excited for every second of it.

His hand is on your back as you stop in front of the door. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” He asks with a beaming smile.

“Nervous. Excited. Very ready.” You lean back to steal a kiss, warmed through by the comfort of having him by your side for this enormous step in the lives of your close friends. Your chosen family. “And…I can’t wait until it’s us.”

“Soon enough.” He promises. “Soon enough.” He pushed the door open and knocks with the back of his knuckles. “Knock, knock.”

“Oh thank god!” Comes the response from inside, and you’re laughing at the relief in Sydney’s voice when you and Marcus push inside. “The Godparent Brigade has arrived! Here to pump you up, handle your relatives, and fetch your sushi after the little peanut has arrived on the scene.”

“Get the sushi before anything else.” Sydney demands, rubbing her stomach and nearly salivating at the thought.

"I've already got your order in my phone, and Marcus will jet out to get it. You won't have to wait at all, honey." It doesn't surprise you in the least that Syd is thinking about one of her favorite foods, but you move over to her side in the bed as the two men hug and give your best friend a squeeze on her shoulder. "How are you doing? Do you want me to go strong arm a nurse for some ice chips?"

“Juan already has two cups of them, letting them melt down.” She grins at you and then winces when another contraction hits.

It takes everything you've got not to wince or cringe along with her, knowing that it won't do a single lick of good and won't help her feel any better. "How far apart are they?" You ask instead, rubbing her back in small, soothing circles.

“Twelve minutes, forty-seven seconds.” Juan tells you as he looks down at his watch and then back at his wife. “We are down from fifteen minutes.”

"Getting closer and closer!" Practically squeaking with excitement, you can see the same light in Juan's eyes despite the worry lines in his furrowed brow. He just wants everything to go well, and you can't blame him there.

Sydney huffs out a small laugh, knowing you are doing exactly what she had wanted you to. Cheerlead for her. “Did you happen to bring those hard candies?” She asks, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Yes!" Ready to dig into your purse immediately, you swirl around and grab your bag from where you had dropped it to one side when you came in the room. "I've got sour lemon and orange, and I've got the sweet strawberry ones. What are you feeling at the moment?"

“Sweet.” She practically moans the word and reaches out to you with grabby hands. “Don’t hold out on me now.”

"Here we go, babe." One of the candies is deposited in Syd's outstretched hands and a few more get tucked into the pockets of your cardigan to make sure you have one on hand for her at no more than a moment's notice. "Plenty more where that came from, I promise."

“You are the best.” She moans, popping the candy into her mouth and rolling her eyes in pleasure.

"Now how are you doing, Dad?" With Syd moaning over her small treat, you turn your attention to Juan.

“I’m hanging in there, but I think I forgot my bag.” He rolls his eyes and huffs. “Too busy making sure the car seat was secure.”

"Babe, you have a key to their place, right?" If not, you'll pull out your keys and send Marcus back to Alexandria with your spare house key instead. You would go yourself, but you vowed not to leave Sydney's side once you got to the hospital. The kind of vow that is definitely life or death and she will hold you to.

“Juan gave me one.” Marcus nods, and agrees with your silent plan. “I’ll run and get the bag. Pick up some coffee that’s better than the shit they serve here, yeah?”

"I have a feeling we're going to need it." Juan nods and claps Marcus on the shoulder gratefully.

"I'll call you if anything changes," you promise him, turning back to your own soulmate. "You're amazing, sweetheart. Thank you."

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He reassures you, leaning in to kiss your lips before hugging Juan and bussing Sydney’s cheek. “Ask for the good drugs, mama.” He teases with a wink, wanting her to laugh.

"You bet your ass!" She groans, wincing more heavily with this contraction than she had with the one before. "Get back here fast, Marcus. Speed. Lots!"

“I’ll use my badge if I get pulled over!” He calls back as he rushes out of the room.

"He'll be back in no time." Realistically you know it will take quite a lot of time, in fact, but your job tonight is not to be realistic. It is to be positive and upbeat. To keep spirits high. "I think Malachi is going to win the betting pool." You grin and stand up by the head of the bed with Sydney, right there to hold her hand if she needs you. "He had Monday – tomorrow, technically – as the day, but I don't think anyone had Sunday."

“Juan…” Sydney smiles. “Take a nap, baby. I know you are exhausted. You were about to go to sleep when my labor started. Birdie is here, so get some sleep.”

He raises an eyebrow, knowing his wife is in pain, but also knowing that a short nap will ensure he is at his best to help her. "We'll take shifts," he compromises, eyeing you just as much as his wife. "So someone is always here holding your hand and timing your contractions. Short naps only. I don't want to miss anything."

“I promise I won’t push her out without you.” She teases, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. “Go, it might be your last nap for the next eighteen years.”

"I love you, Warrior Queen." There are more kisses and more sweet words, and finally Juan crosses the compact hospital room to curl up on the Dad Bench and try to get at least a little bit of sleep before his baby girl enters the world.

“I don’t want to be horrible through this.” She admits quietly. “I’m hoping the labor progresses so I get an epidural quickly.��

"There is not a single person who is going to even blink an eye if you are upset during this labor," you promise her. She pats the side of her bed and you perch on the edge of the mattress, holding her hand all the while. "If you wanted or needed to rage through the whole thing, we would stand by your right to do so. But we'll also stand by your choice to do things any other way. Whatever way is going to be the best possible experience of bringing your first baby into this world."

“Will you do me a favor?” She asks quietly, eyeing Juan as he turns into the couch and gives you his back. He’s already snoring lightly so she’s not worried about him overheating. “If something happens…..” This is the first time that she’s ever said anything out loud and her eyes are anxious. “I’ve signed the paperwork already, but if something happens, I don’t want to stay on machines.” She whispers. “Promise me that you’ll help him let go. And if it’s me or the baby…you know what I want you to choose.”

“Nothing is going to happen.” As firmly and sternly as you can, you squeeze your best friend’s fingers in yours and bite back the instant tears that spring but behind your eyes. The fact that this conversation is even necessary is heartbreaking, but women die in childbirth every single day. Nothing is going to happen. You almost shake with determination but that isn’t what she needs right now. The person who means the most to you in the world besides Marcus is looking you in the face and asking you to be loyal to her. And you will. “I promise.” Two small, devastating words. But if she’s thought this far ahead, she’s also had another thought. “You have a will somewhere?”

“In the safe at home.” She nods, relieved that you are not fighting her and it’s obvious on her face. She had expected an argument, she knows she would have gotten one from Juan, which is why she chose you as her medical POA. “The papers are in an envelope in my bag.” She nods towards the incredibly organized hospital bag.

“Okay.” You nod, still holding her hands tightly. “I love you. I will honor your wishes. Now tell me which onesies you packed to bring her home in so you can get excited again.”

“All of them.” Sydney snorts, only half kidding. “There are twelve that I couldn’t decide between, so I brought them all. Figured we would decide which one looks best when we are holding her.”

“We can absolutely decide later.” She’s already a little sweaty at the top of her forehead from the contractions and you nudge a cup of melted ice chips toward her just to cool her down. “Do you have a top three?”

“The ones in the right hand pocket.” She takes the cup and starts to gulp down the cool water.

In the right hand pocket of Sydney’s neatly packed hospital bag, three folded baby onesies await their new owner: one from her mother in law covered in little surfboards and ocean waves and sunglasses to represent how much Juan had loved surfing when he was out in California. One from Syd’s sister AnnaLeigh with Once Upon a Time…a Heroine was Born written out like the beginning of an illuminated fairytale, and one from you and Marcus emblazoned with the logo of Syd’s favourite hockey team to get her baby girl started out right. “They’re fantastic choices,” you hum, looking at the clothes with misty eyes.

“You see why I couldn’t choose?” She laughs, shaking her head and setting down the rest of the ice chips to melt. Seriously not understanding why they just wouldn’t give her water. Labor is fucking thirsty work.

“I think I like AnnaLeigh’s,” you admit, before tucking them back into the bag as carefully as they had been before. “But we’ll see how she feels about them when she’s here. Who knows? She might come out the chillest baby in the world and then we now she matches Juanito’s surfer phase.”

“Juan actually likes that one too.” She admits with a grin. “He’s so fucking excited for this baby to come. He swears if he could carry her for me, he would.”

“He totally would have if he could.” The grin on your face breaks wider, and you sit back on the edge of Syd’s bed with her. “So would Marcus. In a heartbeat.”

“How did we get so fucking lucky?” Her eyes mist up, overwhelmed with the beautiful thought of both of you so happy and cared for with your soulmates.

“I truly have no idea.” The mist in her eyes halts for just a moment as another contraction hits, but it doesn’t fade. It doesn’t dim. Syd’s happiness is true, and you’re so grateful to see it. “Thank god they get along though. We’d be screwed if our soulmates weren’t friends.”

Panting, she leans back and rubs her belly. “We would make them be friends.” She jokes. “The most awkward small talk over beers until they find a common interest.”

“Lucky for us?” You sit forward and help her readjust her pillows from where they had fallen out of place. “They’re basically as inseparable as we are again.”

"Lucky for us." She agrees, leaning back with a sigh and smiling at you. "Thanks. You know what I need before I do sometimes."

“For most of the time we’ve known each other, I’ve been shocked that we aren’t soulmates.” At some point in your teenage years you had discussed it, but your appendicitis scar already existed and she has never born that. “I gotta be honest, I used to be bummed that we’re not. But when you met Juan, I understood why.”

She kisses the air in your direction. "Because you had Marcus waiting on you, too." She reminds you. "We are better than soulmates. We are sisters by choice."

“I would have waited forever for him.” She gets the same air kiss from you, and you descend into giggles together. “We really are lucky.”

The giggles are interrupted by another contraction, making Sydney hiss and squeeze her eyes shut as she tries to breathe through it. Coming out as more of a whine until the pain passes again. "They- They are getting closer." She huffs when she can talk again.

“We’re down to eight minutes and sixteen seconds apart,” you tell her, checking your watch. “You’re doing awesome, Syd.”

“I can’t believe it.” She grunts when she gets a foot in her rib. “I don’t know whether to be impressed that it’s going so fast, or cry because I’m not further along.”

"You're allowed to be both, you know." Frankly, you're both. She is progressing quickly but you know she would rather have just arrived fully dilated and ready to go. "Just remember. At least she's not dragging her heels like Junie did."

“I don’t know how your mom did it.” She huffs, thinking about your mother and how excited you had been for a younger sister. “She was still working while in labor.”

"My mother is some kind of weird combination of feral cryptid being and absolute machine," you chuckle, shaking your head. "If I'm trying to do bookings and make staff schedules during labor, please slap me."

Huffing out a laugh, she grunts and rubs her belly again on the side. “Done.” She pants. “But get me my notebook.” She points to her bag. “I just thought about a salted Carmel mocha crème brûlée.”

“I am only agreeing to this because it will take your mind off the pain.” Still, you dig into the pocket opposite the onesies she has earmarked as favorites and come out with her battered and beaten recipe notebook. “It sounds like it will be nice to send to your sous chef.”

“It sounds like something I want to eat right now.” She groans, flipping open the tatty cover and laying it on her baby bump to quickly write down her idea.

“You’re going to be a little distracted and busy for a while,” you remind her. Still you can’t help but grin at her tongue poking out from between her teeth as she scribbles.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not hungry.” She moans pitifully after finishing the notes. “I was in the middle of getting a snack.” The pout that pushes her lips out would be comical under different circumstances but she’s horribly disappointed to have not gotten to eat before being bustled into the car by her frazzled husband.

“What was snack time tonight?” It is absolutely always the way to distract her when she’s feeling bad, and tonight is All Sydney All the Time, so you’re focused in one her.

She groans and whimpers slightly at the food she had to leave on the counter. “Cottage cheese with fresh peach compote and balsamic glaze.” She pouts even more. “It was going to be amazing. But I had to tell Juan that I was cramping.”

“I’ll make sure there’s plenty in your fridge waiting for you when you get home.” You can promise her that, along with their fridge and freezer being fully stocked with ready-made meals and easy to use ingredients that should last more than two weeks. Between you and Marcus and Malachi and her staff, you’ve all been secretly helping prep for baby’s arrival for a week already. Even Agent Bailey made a contribution to the frozen meals and added some veggies from her garden.

“Thank you.” She smiles you softly. “I can’t believe that when I leave, I’m going to be holding her.” She admits with a grin.

“She’s almost here.” As if to affirm it, another swift kick to Sydney’s abdomen is brutally obvious, and you grin. “And she’s excited about it.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence. Broken by contractions and the quickening of their pace. Sydney trying to be quiet as she pants through them to let Juan sleep.

Checking your watch again and finding nearly two hours have gone by, you tilt your head at your best friend and hand her another strawberry candy. "Marcus should be back soon, and your contractions are barely more than five minutes apart now. I think it's time to wake Dad up and call for the nurse."

Marcus has Juan’s bag in the backseat and he had cancelled the reservations he had made for tonight. They aren’t going to be used, and he had apologized profusely. Still, he stops at the inn to run up to the small gun safe, using the biometric lock to open it and reveal a small ring box. He had been planning to propose tonight, and he still can, it will just look different now.

"It's happening, isn't it?" On his one night shift per week, Malachi had seen you and Marcus hustle out the backdoor of the inn with bags in hand and seen not long after when Marcus reappeared in a hurry. Now he is waiting at the back door once again, but this time to snag Marcus before he can disappear in to the night.

“It is.” Marcus nods with a huge grin spreading across his face. “Juan forgot his bag. I’ll text you when she’s born.” All the staff are invested so he will be sure to let them know. “You’ve got the inn?” He checks, although he knows what the other man will say.

"That baby is your godchild." Malachi smiles surprisingly softly. "This inn is mine."

“I know.” He reaches out and squeezes Malachi’s arm. “Birdie trusts you with her most important treasure.” He praises.

"Not quite." He winks at the other man, considering him a friend now after many months of back and forth, and grins. "She'd never leave me alone with you."

Marcus snorts, well aware of the man’s proclivity to flirt. He matches that grin. “That’s because she knows how persuasive you are.” He jokes, winking at him playfully. “Besides. You are still yearning for your soulmate and will only be happy when he breezes into your life like he’s always been there.”

"Check all those doctors for my ankle tat, handsome." Malachi teases, shooing Marcus toward the door. "A man in scrubs is better than a man in uniform."

“I will.” He gives Malachi a salute and hustles out of the door to speed back to the hospital as quickly as he can.

It's on the heels of a nurse when Marcus comes back into the room, with Juan standing at Syd's side holding tight to your hand while you have been banished to the corner of the room so the nurse can do her work. "It's almost time!" You tell him excitedly, wrapping your arms around him the second he makes his way over to her.

“Holy shit, I made it just in time then.” He can’t believe how fast it’s gone, he had expects at least half a day or more of labor.

"Apparently Constance does not want to wait." The shine of tears in your eyes isn't going anywhere now that you're about to head to the delivery room with Sydney and Juan, but you hug Marcus fiercely. "And I can't wait to meet her. I'm so glad you made it in time."

“Me too.” Marcus presses his lips to yours, letting you cling to him for a second before you pull back. “Does she want me there for Juan or should I stay here?”

"Stay here and hold down the fort for us? She's going to be exhausted when it's all over but she's nervous about everything being okay in the room while we're gone." Wishing so dearly that this was your night only makes you smile because you know that it's only a matter of time.

“Absolutely.” Marcus nods and looks over at Juan and Sydney. “I’ve got everything here. You go meet your daughter.”

"We'll be back soon." Juan is beaming, practically hopping around, and looks like he might jump out of his own skin if given the chance. "She's almost here!"

Marcus laughs at the bubbly excitement, watching as the nurses wheel her bed out, with you and Juan right on their heels as she’s transferred over to the delivery room. “And now…” Marcus pulls out the ring box and flicks it open to look down at the gorgeous ring. “We wait.”

It's over an hour before anyone comes back into the room, and when it happens it's just you alone with a look of exhausted panic on your face. "Everyone's okay." The first words out of your mouth, but you murmur them while shaking slightly and bolting into his arms, so it isn't terribly reassuring.

That doesn’t sound reassuring, coupled with the desperate way you cling to him. Marcus folds you into his embrace tightly.

“She was breech…” Sniffling through the explanation and clinging to him even harder is about the best you can do right now. “And they couldn’t get her to turn. Then—then they did an ultrasound and figured out that—” The shudder that runs through you is all-encompassing. “She had her umbilical cord around her neck. So they had to do an emergency c-section.” The shaky breath you exhale as you lean back is enough to make him quake right along with you, but he holds you steady. “And then the placenta ruptured after they brought the baby out and—and Syd just kept bleeding—”

“Oh shit.” Marcus whispers in horror, his heart plummeting to his feet and he swallows harshly. “But they are both okay?” He had heard you say they were, but he needs the confirmation.

“They’re both okay.” You can barely manage to nod, tears spilling over for yet another time. “They took Constance to the NICU and Juan is with Syd in recovery until they okay her to come back here.”

“Thank God.” Marcus breathes out softly. “Hopefully Syd is asleep? I know she would be frantic if Constance isn’t with her after that.”

“Awake, but exhausted.” You’re still gripping his leather jacket, refusing to let go. It had been warding off the chill in the air conditioned room but now it’s your life line. “They let her hold the baby for a few minutes before they whisked her off to the NICU.”

“How is she?” Marcus asks quietly, worrying about the baby. “Could we sit with her in the NICU?”

“The doctor said not to worry.” Though you sniffle again, clearly very concerned. “That she’s seen babies in far worse condition come through it totally fine. But they wanted her in a place where they can help immediately if they need to.” Two tears leak from your eyes but you brush them away with the back of your wrist and try to breathe. “They’ll come down and tell us in a little while if she can come be with Sydney or if we’ll be allowed to visit the NICU. For now we just gotta—we gotta stay put. That’s why Juan wanted me to come tell you.”

“Then that is what we will do.” Marcus promises, rubbing your back gently. “I’ll wait to pick up her sushi, hmm?” He wants you to decide that is the best option because he’s not leaving you right now. Not for anything in the world. He’s already reached out to his team to let them know he’s out of pocket for right now.

“Until after she gets some sleep.” You nod against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist for a sturdy anchor. “This is…not a celebrating time. The only thing worth celebrating is the fact that they’re okay.”

The ring he had planned to give you tonight burns a hole in his pocket, but he hums in agreement, pressing his lips to your head. “I completely agree.” He murmurs softly. “We will just make sure that they are in perfect health.”

“I love you so much.” The sheer relief of having him in your arms now after nearly losing your best friend — both of them meaning more to you than life itself — is unspeakable. “And I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promises. “I think I’m going to text the group that mom and baby are resting comfortably and we will make the announcement later?” He asks. “I don’t want people to bug Juan or worry.”

“I think that’s probably a good idea.” The last that the baby arrival group chat had heard, Syd was being wheeled to the delivery room. They deserved an update.

“Why don’t you go into the bathroom and wash your face, sweetheart?” Marcus urges. “Change into your comfy clothes and I’ll send out a text.”

“I’m too anxious to sleep, but I’ll wash up and change.” It seems like it will make you feel less frazzled, and therefore more on your game to help your friends. “But if you need to lie down, you should. I’ll wake you up when the nurse comes in with news.”

“I won’t sleep.” Marcus is too focused on you, too in tune with your nervousness to ever nap. Not right now.

“Then change with me and settle in,” you suggest instead, knowing that if your positions were switched you would feel the same. “It might be a long night.”

Marcus nods. “I can do that.” He promises, rubbing your shoulders and moving towards the bags. “If you want to take a quick shower, no one would blame you.”

“I think I’ll save that trick for refreshing myself in a few hours from now.” Predicting that you’ll need it, you kiss him now and slip off to the adjacent bathroom with your overnight bag to change.

Marcus pulls out his phone and calls down to the florist department that is on the ground floor of the hospital, wanting Sydney to come back to a lovely bouquet.

Wash your face. Change your clothes. Try not to break out crying again that you almost had to put that conversation with Syd a few hours ago into action. By the time you come out of the bathroom in Marcus’s old FBI Academy sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants, your shoulders are drooping and your feet are dragging but at least you’ve stopped crying.

“Oh sweetheart.” While you had washed your face, Marcus had changed out in the room. “Come lay down with me on the sofa/bench thing.” He urges, reaching for you again.

“The Dad Bench.” Curling up into his side immediately, you lay your head on his shoulder and breathe out another sigh. “After you left, she made me promise to make the decision if something went wrong,” you tell him quietly. “Juan would never be able to…and she knew…that if she made me promise. I’d do what she wanted.”

He had been stroking your arm, fingers freezing as he absorbs the implication of that statement. “I’m glad it didn’t come to that.” He closes his eyes and sends up a prayer of thanks and continued good health to whomever might hear him. He doesn’t wish that on anyone, least of all his soulmate and one of his best friends.

"It almost did." Tears come again, fresh and few, but they are definitely there. "The only other time I've heard Juan pray in Spanish was when his mother had a heart attack a few years ago."

“I would be praying in every fucking language I could if it were you.” Marcus whispers. “To every God ever imagined.”

"Everyone is okay." Having to remind yourself of it fairly often seems...fairly reasonable, all things considered. You had stood at your best friend's side and looked her and her soulmate in the eyes as the doctors worked to control her bleeding. As she lay on a table with the distinct reality that those would be the last moments of her life.

But no. Everyone is okay. And soon they'll send her downstairs so she can rest comfortably, and they'll bring little Constance to her to have joyous moments with her family instead of fearful ones.

“Everyone is okay.” He echoes softly. “But…I asked the nurse for a rollaway bed for you.” The nurse had slipped into the room to check on you while you had been in the bathroom, before he had changed. You had just walked into the other room and closed the door, in fact. He had thought it would be best to prepare for you to not leave this room anytime soon.

"Did she say anything else?" No news is good news most of the time when you're in a hospital, but if Marcus got to speak to a nurse you want to know everything.

“She said that momma and baby should be in here by the time visitor hours start.” He couldn’t get a timeframe beyond that, but he took what he could get.

"That's..." Turning your wrist to check your face, the dial reads just after four in the morning. "That's about four hours. And I know Juan won't be down without them. So...I guess we should settle in?"

“Of course.” He doesn’t move, just continuing to hold you. Feeling you relax against him slowly.

"I guess...rain check on date night sex?" You huff weakly, trying for a joke. By this time of night on a date night you would normally be fast asleep – and very naked – in each other's arms.

“A rain check with you is better than any legal tender.” He jokes back, smiling softly even though he had hoped it would be engaged sex.

"What a night." The longer that you sit with him, the calmer you get. It's such an enormous thing for you, to have someone to anchor you as well as he does, and you sigh again as you deflate just a little more into his side.

“Not exactly how I imagined the night going.” Marcus admits with a small sigh. He’s not unhappy, he just wishes the birth hadn’t been so traumatic for everyone.

"Tell me what we were going to do tonight." Thinking about absolutely anything else seems like a very good idea right now, and while you know it was already late when you were leaving the apartment, you also know that Marcus had made plans for tonight.

“I had booked us a late table at Kingbird.” He tells you, smiling at the fact that Sydney had pulled the strings to get the reservation. “It was supposed to be the last table of the night.”

"The restaurant at the Watergate?" Your eyebrows raise when you look up at him and you're practically pouting. "I've been dying to try that place."

“I know.” He had asked and there was a list of places, but he had chosen that one to immortalize as special for the two of you. “And booked us a room at the hotel.”

"Shit." The pout on your lips deepens when you realize how much work Marcus had put into the night, only for it to be interrupted. "I'm so sorry, love. We'll have to reschedule everything. It sounds like it would have been beautiful."

“This is more important.” Marcus insists. “Don’t apologize. This is where I want to be, with you.”

"I don't think I could make it through tonight without you." It would be too much to handle on your own. With such deep emotions entangled in every second of the night, without your anchor you might have just flown apart. "I don't like the idea of doing anything without you anymore."

“You would have, sweetheart.” Marcus knows that, you are so damn strong. So much stronger than you ever believe about yourself. “I know you would have, but you don’t have to.” He stresses. “I’ll be here for you. Support you, comfort you. Celebrate your success and mourn your losses with you. I’m right here.”

"There are no losses to mourn tonight." And you'll be thanking every deity out there for any part they may have had in it. And also making sure that you note down the name of Sydney's doctor for your own pregnancies, because that woman worked quickly and thoroughly and without hesitation to make sure that both mother and baby made it through a birth that would have killed them both in decades past.

“We celebrate life.” He agrees softly. “And love. That little girl is loved so much already.”

"She's beautiful." And of course, there's a sniffle again. At least this one is happy and relieved. "Syd's big eyes and Juan's dark hair."

“Juan is going to be miserable when she gets older.” He laughs quietly. “She’s going to be gorgeous.”

"If she's anything like her mom, she'll have her head too far in the clouds to notice any of the boys or girls chasing her," you laugh along with him, remembering Sydney in high school. "Syd never had any clue how sought after she was."

“She was waiting for Juan.” It’s a bit of a romantic stretch, but it could also be the truth. “Plus she was too in love with crème brûlée. No mere man could compare.”

"She was dreaming about a caramel mocha one while you were gone." The maddening fear is starting to subside, finally, and you sink ever more deeply against Marcus on the bench. "I swear I'll make them for her every day for the rest of her life after what happened tonight."

“See?” He smirks to himself. “She loves them and I’ll help you. I can take the next week off, help with the inn and let you focus on Sydney and co?”

"You don't have to do that." It's a lot to ask of him, and you know that even though he has plenty of vacation time, you were planning on taking a trip down to Texas to spend New Years with his parents. "It's a deeply appreciated gesture, though."

“I don’t mind.” He protests, although he had been certain you would not let him do that for you. “I hope you know that.”

"I know, my love." In his lap, your fingers find his and tangle your hands together. "Why don't we wait on that decision until we see how Sydney and the baby are doing? I don't want you to take extra days out when I know you had been wanting to do other things with them in the next few months."

“Alright.” He will do what you want, let you lead this but he won’t let you exhaust yourself trying to carry everything. “Hopefully they will deliver the flowers I ordered before Syd comes back into the room.”

“You ordered flowers?” Sometimes you really feel like the things he does are magic, from small to large the gestures of love and support are always so deep that it seems impossible for him to not be the Superman of emotional support. “Honey, you’re—you’re too good. Too all of us.”

Marcus snorts. “My mother insisted we order flowers from her and dad, before this all went sideways.” He adds. Wanting you to know the context. “But Sydney just went through a traumatic childbirth. Flowers are the least I could do in order to make her feel loved and special.” He had ordered the flowers his mother wanted and then ordered other arrangements, including a welcome bouquet for Constance herself.

“Everyone is okay.” More reassuring this time, the words still come out in a hush and your eyes drop from Marcus’s for a moment before fluttering back up. “Thank you for being you,” you murmur after a moment. Marcus is that supportive and bolstering friend and family member. This is just who he is. And you’re so entirely grateful to have him here with you, especially right now.

“I don’t know if I would thank me for that.” Marcus teases, leaning in and kissing your forehead again. “But you can always count on me, hummingbird.”

“I know I can. And I’m thankful for that.” More than you could ever say. More than any words you have.

“Close your eyes.” He orders softly. He knows you are exhausted and emotionally spent. You need the rest so you can care for Sydney, Juan and the baby when they are back in this room.

“I can’t guarantee I’ll sleep.” Though you’ll try, knowing that the nurse doesn’t expect Sydney or the baby to be able to come down for at least a few hours.

“I know. Just closing them will be good.” He murmurs softly, still rubbing your back when you shift to lay across him. “You’ve been crying.”

“You would have been proud of me,” you murmur, settling against him one more time and shutting your eyes. “I kept it together until after everything happened.” It was shock, probably, but you still managed it. “Therapy is going to be a doozy this week.”

“Yes it will.” He won’t deny that or try to minimize your feelings. “You don’t need to skip it.”

“I’m absolutely not going to skip it.” Not this week, of all weeks. Not at all. The heaviness of the night is tugging at you, not for sleep but for rest, and for the first time you think you actually might be able to calm down fully as long as you can stay in Marcus’s arms.

Humming in approval, he doesn’t speak, letting the silence draw between you and waiting for your breathing to start slowing down.

The nap lasts about two hours. Two hours held tight in Marcus’s arms on that padded bench, and when you shift against him the small sound of noncommittal discomfort and surprise is enough to tell you that he fell asleep too. Good, you think, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Everyone deserves a reset tonight. Even little Constance.

Marcus wakes quietly, as soon as you move, and he slowly remembers that he’s not in your bed. Both of you are at the hospital. He hums and sighs softly, knowing it hadn’t been a long nap, but it will do wonders for the coming hours.

"Hey handsome." The room is quiet and so are you, sitting up to stretch beside him and bring your limbs back to life.

“How did you sleep?” Marcus asks softly, watching you through heavy eyes.

“Better than I thought I would,” you admit, though you have a feeling that’s only because you didn’t sleep deeply enough for nightmares to set in. “You?”

“Pretty good nap.” He yawns. “Although I know I’m going to have to get coffee for all of us.”

Checking your watch, you stretch again and knock against his side with a lopsided grin. “The cafeteria should be open soon. I have a map of the hospital in my bag so you won’t get lost.”

“Just for that, I’ll bring you two coffees.” He groans, standing up and stretching out. “I should get dressed.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be the only visitor to go get coffee in your jammies.” Far from it, if you had to hazard a guess.

He snorts slightly. “I don’t doubt it. But I would hate to steal any of Juan’s new dad thunder.” He jokes, winking at you.

“Juan will be doing everything in bespoke suits with giant buttons that exclaim New Dad! for everyone he meets.” It’s sweet to think about, now that the fear is mostly past. It won’t wither entirely until you get to see mother and baby, but that should be soon.

“Of course he will.” Marcus laughs. “He’s already got an app on his phone that is just for organizing pictures of the baby.”

“Make sure you get the name of it,” you tease, leaning over to kiss him and getting one last stretch in — right into his arms. “We’ll need that for our kids, I’m sure.”

“You know it.” Marcus grins. “I’ve already downloaded it. It also has a wedding portion of the app. Basically you can upload all your important moments in it.” He doesn’t mention that he had set it up for the proposal that didn’t happen last night.

“You think of everything.” He really does, so it’s barely even an embellishment. At this point you’re just relieved that you can think of small things again instead of the larger, overhanging fear of just a few hours ago.

“Not everything.” Marcus snorts, winking at you. “Otherwise, I would have had coffee delivered by now.”

“Mostly everything, then.” One more kiss and you pull back to get your things sorted out around the room. “I’m going to tidy up a little and get out a couple of comfort things for Syd. So when she comes down she’ll have her favorite cardigan and things like that.” Absolutely anything you can do to soothe your best friend’s hellish night, you’re going to.

“That sounds perfect.” Marcus agrees. “I’ll go grab the coffee. What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Just my usual.” Your hum of appreciation is more relaxed than it would have been earlier in the night. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” He promises as he quickly starts changing into the clothes he had brought.

Marcus is gone for about a half an hour before the door to the room opens again, but when it does it's Juan there – holding the door open wide as one of the overnight workers from the transport department wheels Sydney's bed back into the room with her nurse hot on their heels.

“We are back.” His tone is exhausted but elated at the same time. It’s been a sleepless night for him. Afraid that he would close his eyes and Sydney would be gone.

"How are you feeling, honey?" You're at Sydney's side as soon as the nurse is done getting her settled. The woman has the patience of a saint and excuses herself to go retrieve Constance, who is being allowed to leave the NICU.

“Tired. Sore.” She admits with a quick, tired smile. “Impatient to hold my daughter.”

"She'll be down soon." Glancing at the door where the nurse has disappeared to bring around that same little girl, the warmth in the room starts to grow exponentially. "Marcus went to get coffees. And I'll bring sushi for lunch. Cross my heart."

“I don’t know if I’m hungry.” Sydney admits with a slight shrug. She’s still a little disoriented from the drugs. “But coffee sounds amazing. I could sleep for days.”

"Then we won't worry about food right now. But Marcus is bringing back coffee for you, and he should be back very soon." You grin at your friends and send them both a conspiratorial shrug. "I sent him with a map, otherwise you know he would have gotten lost."

Juan laughs as he fuses over Sydney, hovering as if she might disappear if he steps too far away. “He should have been a Lieutenant in the military, as bad as he is.”

“I’ve just learned to always have a map for new places or to set up the gps in his car without asking.” It’s a quirk, and you all have them, but Marcus’s ability to get lost almost anywhere is a standing joke between the four of you and it’s so, so good to hear Syd laugh. Even if it’s only a little, it’s completely worth it.

The knock on the door comes just a moment later and Marcus pokes his head in. “Oh you’re here!” He brightens up and pushes the door open, the delivery person from the flower shop hot on his heels. “I was hoping to get all this inside before you did.”

“We just got back.” Syd is groggy for sure, but not so badly that she doesn’t register the tray of coffees and bag of food with the hospital’s cafe logo on it that you jump forward to snag from him and the delivery of flowers that comes in behind him. With the tension and fear of the last few hours and all the emotions and hormones still raging in her, Sydney is immediately in tears. “You—you got flowers?” She half-squalls like it’s the kindest and most loving thing any person has ever done in the history of time. For her, especially right now, it definitely feels like it.

“Ohhhh don’t cry.” Marcus frets slightly, even though he’s pretty sure that they are happy tears. “I wanted you and Constance to have a beautiful reminder of how loved you both are.” He walks over to the recovering woman, that he now regards as his friend, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “More are coming too.” He promises.

“It’s so sweet!” Syd huffs between large tears, hugging Marcus as tightly as her recovering body will permit. “You’re so sweet.” Even after we interrupted your plans, she thinks loudly, but manages not to say it. She knows what last night was supposed to be and she hated having to call when she knew Marcus was about to sweep you out the door.

“You deserve nothing but happiness right now.” He promises, looking over at Juan and squeezing Sydney gently before he pulls back and moves over to the new father. “Congratulations.” He is somber, aware of what the agony of the night had done to his friend.

“It was a hell of a night.” Juan pulls Marcus in for a hug — something the two men need right now for grounding, but Juan also murmur, “And sorry for the timing” to Marcus before pulling away.

“Don’t ever worry about that.” Marcus insists. “Doesn’t matter if I was in the middle of it, we would have been on our way.” Yes, proposing to you and giving you a beautiful moment is important to him; but some things are always much more important and this is at the top of that priority list.

“We’ll make it work.” Juan promises quietly, glad to see you absorbing Sydney in conversation while she marvels at the flowers that Marcus ordered.

“How’s Constance doing?” Marcus asks quietly, not seeing the bassinet in the room. “Will she be released from the NICU soon?”

“Our doc said she’s stable, so she can come down and have some family time and be fed.” As a brand new father of only about two and a half hours, that has Juan both puffing out his chest and teary with pride. “The nurse should be bringing her down now.”

“That’s great!” Marcus grins, knowing that both mama and daddy will feel better with their newborn daughter in their room.

Having settled Sydney with her coffee and treat — Marcus brought muffins back from the cafe — you excuse yourself to the bathroom and feel like you can finally breathe. Syd is here. You can hear her muffled laughing through the door. And the baby will be down soon. Everyone is okay.

“Looks Marcus…” Sydney’s voice is hushed and he can tell by her guilty expression what is coming. “Please, don’t apologize again.” He begs her softly. “There is nothing to apologize for.”

“I can call Kingbird,” she offers immediately. Explain it was my fault you had to cancel and get you a new reservation.”

“No.” He shakes his head and glances back at the bathroom. “I don’t think she’s going to be leaving your side for quite awhile and I cannot in good conscience try to convince her otherwise.”

He insists that she shouldn’t apologize more but Sydney still feels like she ought to, pursing her lips until she eventually tilts her head to look up at the men standing side by side at her bed. “You could still do it tonight if you wanted to,” she offers. It’s technically morning now — past six, anyway — but she hasn’t gotten any sleep yet so everything blends together. “It…” she blows out a sigh. “I know it wasn’t the easiest night.” For her especially. “But it would be nice to have Constance’s birth surrounded by happiness. Instead of what might have happened.”

Marcus considers it for a moment, frowning slightly and he bites his lip. “That is— are you sure?” He would never want to take away from Constance and her birth.

Sydney sits back in her hospital bed and takes Juan’s hand, letting him anchor her the way you always do with Marcus. “I don’t want the only thing I remember about the day my daughter was born to be that both of us almost died,” she admits quietly, knowing it’s a little selfish to ask him for this but also knowing that the happy memories you make together mean everything to the four of you.

He can understand that and he bites his lip. “Then….what do you think about me proposing here?” He asks. “It’s not the most romantic setting, but I think under the circumstances, it’s the best place to do it.”

“There’s flowers and best friends and I know you brought her back her favourite muffin.” Juan chuckles, feeling a bit misty eyed over more good things happening. “What’s more romantic than that?”

“Maybe we can do something that involves the baby?” Marcus suggests.

“I will squall.” Sydney warns, already tearing up all over again. “But quickly before she comes back…wrap the ring box in the baby blanket?”

“Perfect.” Marcus dives for the bag that had been packed for Constance and finds the soft baby blanket they had decided to wrap her in while in the hospital. “When the baby comes in, ask her to get the blanket for you.” Marcus tells Sydney.

“If we can keep a straight face,” Syd laughs, but agrees immediately.

Marcus hides the ring box in the folds of the blanket. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“More than.” Sydney promises, right before the bathroom door opens.

You had washed up a little again, refreshing yourself and feeling a little more human while you were in the bathroom. “Did you manage to rest a little while you were upstairs?” Your focus is right back on Sydney but you take a second to give Marcus a kiss of thanks when he hands you your coffee.

“Yes.” She’s still tired and exhausted, but she smiles. “I did, you don’t worry about me.” She huffs, knowing that it won’t do any good. You will fret over her just like Juan will. “Looking forward to sushi later.”

“We’ll have a sushi party and baby girl can get milk drunk like a party animal.” Making the best of what had been a nearly calamitous situation is good for everyone’s spirits right now. You help the guys set up a little area as a breakfast ‘table’ for the three of you and set Sydney’s things on her tray. It’s about time for the morning shows that Juan loves so the tv goes on, and seconds later the nurse enters with her bundled up charge yawning as loudly as her little lungs can manage.

“Oh my god.” Marcus coos as soon as he sees the little angel in the flesh. She is perfect and nothing will convince him otherwise, falling in love with his goddaughter in a split second. “She’s so precious.”

“She’s perfect.” As expected, Sydney and Juan are both in tears all over again, and the nurse who helped Sydney get comfortable upstairs makes sure Mom and Dad have everything they need before bowing out to let the family bond.

“She’s beyond perfect.” It’s all you can do not to cry with them, looking at your best friend and goddaughter together.

“Isn’t she?” Sydney completely agrees as she finally gets to hold her newborn daughter. Completely in awe of how perfect she is.

The room is practically full of the sound of smiling, whatever that really is, but you end up half-laughing under your breath and looking to Marcus with fresh water behind your eyes. "I want one too," you laugh, overwhelmed with absolute joy and love.

He laughs at your eagerness, the yearning and knows that you are only partially joking. “I don’t know if we could top how perfect she is.” He admits with his own chuckle.

"Maybe not." The only possible place for you to be right now is snuggled into his side and you tuck yourself in there to just stare at your goddaughter together. "We can't know until we try, though."

Sydney spares a glance at Marcus, who nods as he holds you close. “We have to get through a few other things first.” He reminds you.

"I know." You hum when he presses a kiss to the top of your head and sigh again. "I just love her so much and I wanna give her everything. Including playmates."

Sydney coos at Constance and cuddles her closer. “Birdie, would you get me her baby blanket?” She asks softly. “From her bag? I want her in the things we picked out.”

"Yeah, of course!" You hop to immediately, slipping out of Marcus's arms to go to the bag Sydney packed. The baby blanket from Sydney's parents is folded near the top. It's a light thing, a beautiful hand knitted piece done in their chosen color of green and then embroidered with the initials CMB for Constance Marie Badillo.

The blanket slips a little in your hand when you pick it up, and when you go to right it a small but weighty something falls out from the center. The realization that it's probably something that Juan tucked away as a surprise for Sydney has you tucking it back inside quickly and handing over the blanket like you're suddenly holding a hot potato.

Sydney hadn’t been expecting you to hand over the blanket so fast so she pushes towards you again for a moment. “Hold it please.” She requests, knowing you will do anything. She has to give Marcus time to get into position.

"Of course," you agree again, bobbing your head on a nod. Glancing over at Juan makes you wonder if you should do something to help, like opening up the blanket so she can see the little jewelry box or something. Maybe hold it sort of presentationally? You can't quite make up your mind and end up clutching the blanket to your chest in surprise when you hear Marcus clear his throat and whirl around to see him down on one knee in the middle of the little hospital room.

That jewelry box was definitely not for Sydney...

“Before you panic, I have the happy new parent’s permission.” Marcus promises as he reaches for the hand that is not clutching the blanket protectively. “And today is a celebration. Of life, and love.” He tells you softly.

"Oh my god." It's just about all you can think to say as you choke on a fresh round of tears and tighten your fingers in his hand.

“I know.” Marcus flashes you a grin. “Sweetheart, there is no one else I want by my side, confiding in, planning for the future and sharing part of my soul with.” He promises you. “I love everything about you and there is not one thing that I could possibly imagine changing. I love your loyalty to friends and family, your work ethic and your tenacity. Your tender heart and your penchant for dreaming.” He takes a big breath, clearly saying your full name. “Will you marry me?”

He can barely finish the question before your thick, cracking voice is chirping endless yeses. Before you're crumpling to your knees to kiss him, cradling the blanket between you as delicately as if the baby was already wrapped in it. "I love you" gets mixed in with all the "Yes!" and more "Oh my god" as if you can't quite believe that it's finally happening. From the moment that the two of you individually became a unit, you've both known that this was the direction you were heading in. But now that you're here? It feels even better than you could ever have guessed.

He knew your answer, he’s known it, but he still giggles in relief and cupping your cheek to kiss you. “I love you.” He promises softly, pecking your lips again and again. He hears both Juan and Sydney sniffling happily and knows this was the right call.

For a moment the room is just happy tears and sniffles and giggling, and you’re both so jittery that you get a little mixed up in retrieving the ring box from deep inside the handmade baby blanket in your arms. Marcus had said he bought your promise and engagement rings together so they would match and of course his decision is perfect — the haloed diamond stands out over heart shaped stones of the promise ring he gave you months ago, and the fact that they’re from him makes them so perfect you could just fall apart right here in his arm.

“It was.” He admits with a modest tilt of his head. “But I think that this might be even better. “Your best friend and goddaughter got to witness it.”

“And your best friend too.” No one who ever ran into Marcus and Juan now would think they had spent so many years apart. They’re more likely to be mistaken for twins than anything else, and actually had been on a dinner out a few weeks ago.

“It makes it better than anything else.” He nods in agreement, looking over at your friends. “We are friends and family.”

“Matron of honor and best man?” It’s hardly a question, but Marcus has slipped the beautifully shimmering engagement ring onto your finger and you glance back over at your tearful friends with absolute joy. “And the tiniest, sweetest, most perfect little flower girl in the whole world?”

“The perfect flower girl.” Marcus agrees with his own emotional chuckle. “And of course they are our matron of honor and best man. What else could they possibly be?”

“Your caterer.” Syd half-complains with a pout, but it’s so half-hearted that she just ends up laughing through the tears. “Get over here and let us hug you two, and meet your goddaughter up close. Obviously we’re going to be whatever you want us to be. All three of us.”

“Not going to happen.” Marcus snorts, shooting Sydney a smile. “You’re going to participate in the reception. But…” he shrugs. “We will let you create our menu.”

“Here we go.” Juan teases, gently taking the baby blanket out of your arms to wrap up his daughter with the already precious heirloom. “Breakfast and wedding planning.” He grins down at Sydney. “I’ll get your notebook and take notes. You focus on our angel.”

Marcus laughs because he knows that’s exactly what will happen. Although there might be a little more cooing over the baby than anything else going on. As it is, he can’t wait to get his hands on her.

“I already know what wedding cake you want.” Syd grins, readjusting in her seat so this conversation can include food for everyone, including little Constance. She’s already gotten her little girl to latch once without a hellish amount of trouble so she’s hoping to do it on her own this time.

There has already been plenty of conversation about Sydney breastfeeding, but Marcus busies himself with his bag while she gets her daughter situated. It’s not because he’s weirded out, just a respect thing, giving the new mother time to get used to being exposed without feeling like she’s in a fishbowl.

“I’m covered,” Sydney assures him, after a few minutes of fussing where Marcus does anything but look directly at her. His respect level is top notch and she appreciates that about him. “Let’s talk food, please? And—” Before she can even ask, Juan is handing her a cup of water and she melts and murmurs a quiet “Thank you.”

“I just wanted to give you some time.” Marcus joins the small group, sitting down when you stand up and pulling you into his lap while Juan sits on the bed with his wife and child. “So right off the bat, what’s your first ideas?” He’s smart enough to know the final menu will be completely different from the first one.

“Americana.” You and Sydney grin at each other and you lean back in Marcus’s lap to sip your coffee while you talk. “Updated versions of classic American dishes.”

“What would that look like?” He asks, frowning in confusion. “Meat loaf?”

“Could be.” Sydney nods. “It could be things like gourmet versions of tv dinners.”

“Or it could be modern versions of older popular dishes,” you nod in agreement. “Like upscale Steak Diane or deconstructed chicken pot pie.”

“Finger foods?” Marcus asks. “I’m sure there will have to be a buffet of canapés.”

“Depends on the events.” Smiling around a sip of iced coffee, you press a kiss to Marcus’s temple a second later. “I’m thinking four.”

“Four events?” Marcus chuckles. “That’s bachelorette party, bridal shower, rehearsal dinner and wedding?”

“Maybe five,” you admit with a sheepish grin. “You said you wanted to have an engagement party.”

“I think that it’s a good place for the publicity your mom wants.” He reminds you.

“Five events is a lot, but if we space them out I think we can manage it.” Looking down at him with an absolute glow on your face, your brand new engagement ring catches the light and makes your chest swell. “What season do you want to get married in?”

“Any one you want.” It’s fair in his mind, he’s been married before and all that matters to him is that you repeat your vows in front of friends and family. What the weather is like doesn’t matter a lick to him. “I guess it depends on how fast we can get it planned?”

“Don’t do less than six months,” Juan warns. His cousin had rushed things to disastrous consequences.

“I wouldn’t.” You can totally agree to that. “My impulse would be to say a year but…I’ve kind of always liked the idea of a summer wedding.” Chewing on the idea, you turn your eyes back down to Marcus again. “Roses stop blooming at the end of the summer.”

“Early fall?” He suggests. “October? It gives us seven months. And you will more than likely have White House help.” He shrugs. “Along with mine, of course.”

“If we did October, maybe I can do a summer bridal shower in the White House rose garden?” Your eyes widen, practically begging. “I would really love to use the rose garden.”

“Then you better make sure your mom doesn’t book it for a tea party.” He teases with a wink, reaching for your hand that now holds his engagement ring. “I think October is perfect. Hell, we could do a Halloween rehearsal dinner.” He jokes.

“Don’t even tease me about that,” you huff. A Halloween event would be exactly your style. “Halloween next year is on a Wednesday, otherwise I would be begging you to get married on Halloween.”

“Baby, if that’s what you want….” He shoots Juan a grin and shrugs. “I’m okay with that.”

“I don’t want to get married on a Wednesday night.” No one parties deep into a Wednesday night in their thirties. It doesn’t feel as special to you. “How about we get married earlier in October and I talk you into visiting the Paris catacombs with me on Halloween night during our honeymoon?”

“That works for me just as easily as anything else.” Marcus promises. “Only thing I care about is you and I celebrating our love and making a public commitment to each other.”

“I love you, too.” If it were just the two of you, you would be getting dressed to run off to a soulmate chapel immediately. But promises have been made and they need to be honored, and every chance to declare your love for Marcus loud and clear is worth taking. “Any Pike family traditions we should keep in mind that I don’t know about already?”

Marcus smiles. “There’s a jewelry set that is passed down to be used in the wedding, if wanted.” He adds. “It was my great, great grandmother’s.”

“Really?” Your expression softens immediately, eyes widening a little, and you nod right away. There is no question in your mind that you’re going to wear it. “Your Mom swore to pass down some family recipes after the wedding but she never mentioned heirlooms.”

“It’s only ever offered after the engagement.” He explains. “We had a certain cousin’s wife - I’m sure you can guess who - think that it was for her to keep.”

When Sydney and Juan look equal parts amused and confused, you snicker slightly. “Hannah has very interesting thoughts about the family,” you tell them, glossing over the few less than kind things Hannah Pike had said either to you or that had been relayed to you. “Which reminds me. I’m absolutely going to ask Selena to be a bridesmaid.”

“Sydney, you will love her.” Marcus promises. “She’ll be flying out every other weekend to help you plan.” He warns you. “Or just staying out here, she can work from anywhere.”

“She’s been thinking about moving,” you admit, barely biting back a grin at how much fun it would be to have her nearby permanently. Marcus’s cousin has become one of your closest friends in the months since your first visit to Texas. “She said she wants to come see what winter is like here to make sure it’s not too bad, but her office is opening a DC branch and asked her if she would be interested in heading up the new team out here.”

“How do you know that and I don’t?” He asks, putting on a faux pout.

“Because she hasn’t told your aunt and uncle yet and she didn’t want it to get back to the family.” That grin of yours becomes full force and you kiss his temple again. “She was trying to save you from having to lie if you got asked.”

“Well, then, you didn’t say anything to me.” He mimes zipping his lips and locking them to throw away the key.

"Probably a good policy," you agree, snickering quietly even as you squeeze his shoulders tightly.

There’s a sense of lazy content in the room. Everyone slowly savors the baked goods that Marcus had brought and sips their coffee. The baby, Constance, is the noisiest of them all, her hungry sucking and grasping one that makes all the adults smile as they look at her every thirty seconds.

She is Sydney’s entire focus, and when the baby is done with her own breakfast there is a little fuss over making sure she’s burped properly before she cuddles up against her mother’s chest to have a post-meal nap. Something that makes Sydney sigh in relief and hold her close. “You’d never know how bad last night almost was by looking at her.”

“Children are resilient.” Marcus muses. “She will never remember her birth and be completely unaffected by it, while it will stay with us forever.”

“All the better.” Sydney soothes one hand over her sleeping daughter’s back.

Marcus watches the loving gesture, almost aching for the time where he can watch you soothe the children you will have together. Will you look as much like Madonna and Child like Sydney does now? He thinks it will be even more profound like undoubtedly Juan feels like it is.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #pregnancy tw #childbirth tw #traumatic birth

[pyschedtrickster]

TADC Ep 2 - Depression and the Meaning of Life

Well, I may or may not be a day late to release of the episode, but I've watched it three times so far and I have some thoughts. Let's get the gritty stuff outta the way.

First of all, The Amazing Digital Circus belongs to @gooseworx and therefore everything I say here is just my personal take on the episode. I could be wrong, talking out my ass, etc. But this episode really spoke to me, so good job Goose.

Secondly, spoilers <3

Third, I think I've written enough that people won't get jumpscared with spoilers. This is gonna be a long read, so bear with me. This post will contain ALL my thoughts on the episode, both meaningful and just silly things I liked.

BUBBLE

So anyone who knows me from Bunnydoll Burrow knows I love Bubble. They're my favorite so far and this episode only cemented that further. They're wonderful comedic relief and even if they don't have any character development (which I don't think they will), I will always love them.

Caine Cares Too Much

While watching this, I was immediately off-put by Caine's reactions, even beginning with him calling Zooble back. He sounds so... dire? I don't know if that was intended to mean something or if it was just to put emphasis on how much Caine cares about his creations. Caine is AI, so world-building is likely his ONLY goal, or his prompt if you will. It wouldn't surprise me if that was why he was so upset by everyone's reactions.

But I can't help but wonder if this will play into his character arc. We understand that Caine is ambiguous right now and there's no real explanation of what his intentions are in the Circus. Something about this just really set me off. It made me feel unsafe in a way as if staying behind would result in danger of some kind. Obviously, it couldn't be that bad, as Zooble did stay behind and turned out fine. Still, I can't shake the feeling that this is foreshadowing.

Zoobie

Hilarious. What a solid nickname, I've seen so many headcanons that Zooble would be a stoner in the real world. This only makes it better. They are now Zoobie in my mind.

Pomni's Child Comment

While I'm sure this was just a silly comment to be made, I kinda liked it. Just a little in-show reminder that through all of this, Pomni is a real, grown-ass woman stuck inside some digital Hell. The whole first episode, we see her wallowing and panicking, justifiably so. Finally, we get to see her grow more serious and stable.

Through the episode, we see more of her being a good character and becoming more at terms with her situation. I'll touch on this more soon.

Gangle

My girl CANNOT catch a break. Gangle is such a funny character and so, so sweet. She's level-headed in my opinion, even through her emotions. She seems to have a good grip on the shit happening around her but has a hard time communicating properly because she has a lot of feelings going on. Me too, honey, me too.

Even in the face of violence, danger, and overall shitfuckery, she doesn't shut down. Sure, she cries. But I've cried plenty of times while still holding the fort down. I think I just relate to her.

Lastly, I NEED to know what this means like I need oxygen.

Government Mandated Shipping

I dunno man, I just really liked this. I'm a shipper at heart. I've been writing fanfic since middle school. I saw pure fanfic material when I watched this scene.

Kinger and Raggs

This scene made me smile. It's a cute nod towards how Kinger is the longest-standing character and, according to some lost post of Goose's, Ragatha is the second. Plus, all of episodes one and two, we see her trying so hard to be a rock for Pomni. She tries to include everyone, keep everyone cheerful, and be a stable constant in a realm of chaos; Seeing Kinger recognize how far she's come and using that to bring her back to reason was just so refreshing. Ragatha deserves more appreciation like that: less about what she does for others, and more about what she's done for herself.

Jax's Disappointment

So we don't know much about Jax besides how Goose loves him and says he's an asshole who may or may not be irredeemable. When he started talking about violence and getting excited at the thought, I chalked it up to him being an ass. But it struck me just how much this mattered to Jax in this scene. I have questions, man. But I'm about to go on a wild tangent, so hear me out.

Jax is happy when being destructive. He gets immediately upset when things go well. And in the circus, we can assume that there have been a lot of traumatic, wild things that have occurred. I wonder if the chaos, the violence, is a comfort for Jax because of those traumatic experiences. As a person with trauma, I've learned that there's a funny cycle that I and other traumatized people experience.

We don't like the situations we're in, but when faced with normalcy, it's so much scarier than the damaging situation we come from. So, we run from 'normal' back into the suffocating arms of our traumatizing situations for comfort. Going back to the situation means more trauma, more trauma means a harder time finding peace in a safe, normal environment, which means more trauma... you get the picture.

So am I saying a fictional purple bunny is using violence in a digital realm to cope with the very real topic of trauma? Maybe. Yes. Yes, I am. This is how I cope.

Depression, Finding Your Place, and the Bigger Picture

Now you may be saying, "hey! You skipped over some major scenes to talk about silly stuff! What gives?"

Well, as the title of this post suggests, I had some heavier stuff to address in this episode and wanted to compile it all in one section. So that meant skipping over a scene to bunch it in with other ones. I'll break it down.

Depression

Let me begin with the fact that I have been diagnosed with depression for years now. I've been hospitalized for it and I've had family members struggle with it around me. This heavily influenced how I viewed this episode and specifically this scene.

Gummigoo had a perfectly reasonable reaction to seeing the perfect replica of him that is his model. Seeing something like that would shatter your world, and we see that happen to him immediately.

But when Gummigoo talked to Pomni and asked why anything matters, it gave me this really familiar feeling. Thoughts of being nothing, of feeling meaningless, the mere idea of being an obstacle--I've experienced all of these. I'm sure others have. Pomni was right when she said it's normal. Everyone has felt down from time to time.

But what Gummigoo is talking about really hit home with my depression. Thoughts like these, especially when they linger for long, change how you view the world. Everything is tinted blue and desaturated. You feel empty and eventually, so does the world around you. You feel like when the party is over and everyone leaves, you disappear--or you think you should, at least.

"Why are you trying to cheer me up? How does this benefit you at all?"

And it's so, so hard to accept help when feeling like this. Depression is a bitch in the way that it wants you to stay depressed. It feels like everyone around you wants you to feel better because it is a convenience for them. It almost feels transactional if you smile.

But Pomni says it so beautifully; "I guess I just don't want you to feel like you're nothing. I don't want anybody to feel like that."

The way she says it makes me feel like she knows the feeling too, and in reality, she says she does understand in a way how Gummigoo feels. But that? That made it real for me. I don't know why. This whole scene, the entrapment and loneliness despite not actually being alone, just embodied how I've felt for years. What amazing writing.

Finding Your Place

This scene was really the cherry on top of everything I just spoke about. We see that these two understand each other, at least as much as they can. They recognize all of this, it's ridiculous. They're hurtling through space into the unknown, hoping everything works out. They may feel empty, but they're not alone. They've got each other, for better or worse. Maybe they don't know where they belong in this liminal space, but they know where they stand in each other's minds.

And then we get this ending scene. God. Fuck.

I knew that there was obviously something to that dream Pomni had in the beginning, but somehow I didn't expect this to be the conclusion to it. I guess I was too distracted by everything else. So when I got to this shot, I got all warm and teary-eyed.

Pomni finally feels like she's got a pack, a place in this digital circus. When you don't feel mentally alone anymore, there seems to be a weight that's lifted off your shoulders. It doesn't cure the sadness, but at least you know that if you need to be picked up, someone will be there. Depression wants you to be alone, but it just lost that battle. The internet has said it best: A win is a win.

The Bigger Picture

We all know where the end of the road is. How we get there is the mystery. This thought can really make a person feel small, especially when depression comes in to tell you that you in fact are small, according to the chemicals in your brain. But the power of numbers and knowing your place in the world makes facing the unknown a little easier.

I'll be honest, the words are kinda lost on me at this point. Our demise is a really hard topic to broach. I've lost a lot of people, especially some major players in my life (shoutout to the Dead Dads club), and still, I don't understand it all. But the best way I can explain it is through my own experience and how I applied it to this episode.

I had for a long time gone through life trying to prepare and prepare. I played the role of the strong, unaffected individual after being hardened by trauma in childhood. I didn't want to be outwardly emotional, because if I was I would have to admit defeat.

It made me feel weak, especially when my depression would whisper nasty things to me about my self-worth. The bigger picture at that time didn't even exist in my mind. I lived to serve and die. It was no way to live.

Only recently, with time, a couple grippy sock vacays and therapy have I started to form my own, new big picture. At the center of this is my interactions with others. Family, friends, and strangers, all of them are affected by my actions. Even during the days when I feel worthless or alone, I remind myself that even the little things I do have a spiderweb effect. I have worth, more so than serving others or being some obstacle. I can simply walk down the street and perhaps I'll be the person who some kid looks at and hopes to look like when they're older. My existence is so much more than just a give-and-take situation with everyone around me.

It felt like Pomni found her purpose in the circus, and it was more than just playing along until the end. Rather, it was to befriend the people around her who have proved in one way or another way that they care. Abstraction wasn't in vain to them. Lives mattered, and therefore so did Pomni.

In a vast, digital world where chaos looms like a grey cloud, Pomni always mattered. She just had to realize how, and it was much more than being an obstacle or a pawn. And so do we, I think.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc ragatha #tadc jax #tadc kaufmo #tadc gangle #tadc pomni #tadc fandom #tadc zooble #tadc kinger #tadc bubble #tadc caine #tadc episode 2 #digital circus #tadc ep 2 #episode 2 #new episode #gummigoo #tadc gummigoo

[kaedekolya]

awakening clarence: the inevitability of tragedy, and what it means to be human

Human or robot, cyborg or android — how is humanity defined, and where is the line that delineates it? Expanding upon my Clarence monster meta, which covered his Godheim, Eden, and modern routes, this analysis delves into how the theme of dehumanisation presents itself in Clarence’s Awakening route — and why tragedy is endlessly, inevitably, intertwined with his being.

[ SPOILERS: Clarence’s Awakening route and his Faint Night Light SSR story, as well as brief mentions of his Godheim and Eden routes. ]

“In my mind, I still consider myself human, but you are free to perceive me as you wish. I don’t mind and I won’t dispute that.” This is the faith that Awakening’s Clarence holds fast to — he thinks, therefore he is. He has a concept of his self, therefore he is human.

This can be chalked up to the impact of one’s environment; for example, Archmage Clarence was co-opted into a scheme and transformed into a mutation at a young age, causing him to grow up with no other concept of the self than the monstrous one forced upon him. In contrast, modern Clarence had solid support systems around him, allowing him to develop a reasonably well-adjusted core identity. Since the Awakening stories are not set in alternate universes, but a potential branch of the future that stems from the present-day modern world, it stands to reason that modern Clarence’s perspectives and attitudes would carry forth into his Awakening timeline.

It is this foundation that affords Clarence the fortitude to hold fast to his belief, even when MC counters it with her claims that he is not human. Then Clarence sees how grief-stricken MC’s expression is, and decides to “respect her decision, regardless of the reason,” “if she is so firmly against accepting his view.” He puts her feelings above his own, acquiescing to her opinion despite it contradicting his. Even so, he still hopes that “maybe one day [they] can reach a consensus on this matter.” Deep down, Clarence still yearns for understanding, for someone to view him the way he views himself.

Awakening’s Clarence is an interesting subversion of his usual dehumanisation trope, running counter to how he often perceives himself as a monster despite being biologically human. In Godheim, the Archmage refuses to see himself as anything other than a monster that isn’t human, even though others recognise his good intentions. In Awakening, MC initially refuses to see Clarence as anything other than an android that isn’t human, despite his protests to the contrary.

(As an aside, there are further parallels between Archmage Clarence and Awakening’s Clarence; both put on a stoic front to protect themselves from feeling further pain. Just as Archmage Clarence spent a century in utter solitude until MC returned to his side, Awakening’s Clarence waited for MC to wake him from an eternal slumber, while she wandered that same time in solitude until she found him again. Both stories end with the promise of eternity — or at least a long, long time — together.)

Clarence’s unwavering sense of self in Awakening makes me think of the Ship of Theseus — when parts of a ship are replaced, at what point is it no longer the original ship? For Clarence, his identity hinges not on his constituent parts, but his awareness of the self. Even if his body is damaged, he is still himself as long as his mind is intact. Clarence’s memories, his reasoning, his emotions, are what form his identity. It is this central focus on the mind and not the body that leads to a lack of regard for his physical wellbeing; his health and safety are secondary to his aims.

In an attempt to figure out the physical properties of his body — whether it is flesh and blood or steel and synthetics — Clarence wounds himself on purpose, cutting through the skin not covered by his mechanical skeleton. He feels the pain as blood flows out, yet the wound heals at an inhuman speed, rendering him unable to “determine if he’s an android, pain and flesh simulated by advanced technology, or a human injected with healing genes.”

Clarence’s readiness to harm himself in order to achieve a certain objective can also be seen in the Book of Tales event, when merman Clarence deliberately hurts himself in hopes of attaining the mermaid’s tear. To Clarence, the injuries sustained to his physical body are insignificant in the face of a greater goal. As long as he can preserve his sense of self, his memories, his purpose, then it is enough for him. Ultimately, Clarence views himself as a tool — as a means to an end.

Arguably, Awakening’s Clarence demonstrates many traits that could easily paint him as a monster. When a hostile drone poses a threat, he destroys it with his bare hand, bolstered by the enhanced strength of his mechanical augmentations. Combat is woven into Clarence’s being; he is innately capable of destruction, in the same way a monster is. His internal programming makes comments and observations as if it is a separate entity, creating a stark disconnect between Clarence’s consciousness and the programmed voice in his head — almost like it is a monster lurking within him.

As much as his combat may be innate, though, so are his emotions. Clarence feels an instinctual trust towards MC, even if he cannot explain or understand where these feelings originate from. After MC falls asleep, Clarence reaches out to her but stops short of touching her face, empathy guiding his actions. “Have you spent all these years like this, slumbering alone in this barren world?” Clarence asks, not recognising that he too had slumbered alone in the hibernation chamber — only recognising her pain, and not his own. He apologises to her, despite not having done anything wrong, despite also suffering through the same solitude that she has.

Upon seeing MC injured, Clarence grows solemn and sorrowful, remarking that he thinks she is “strong, [admirably] strong.” “It must be tough for you[,] living in this world alone for all those years,” Clarence muses, extending her a compassionate kindness he does not allow himself — neither in this world, nor in others. “I don’t know why I [feel the need] to apologise,” he admits. “But I somehow feel that this should have been my responsibility. I should have stayed by your side. I shouldn’t have left you alone.” Once again, Clarence takes the blame upon his own shoulders, turning the guilt inwards. Even when it is not his cross to bear, Clarence nails himself to it, offering himself as penance for wrongs he has not committed.

Clarence is so accustomed to taking responsibility upon himself that he always chooses the simplest option, even if it comes at his own expense. Or perhaps it is precisely because it comes at his own expense, and not that of others, that he is more inclined to choose it. The Archmage did not open himself up to any other methods, staunchly refusing to entertain MC’s suggestions, because he was so firmly set in his conviction to sacrifice himself for his country’s future. The Falcon was ready to shoot himself, never considering the possibility of a third option in the dilemma, because his death was the most straightforward way to help MC achieve her goal.

In much the same way, Awakening’s Clarence dies to save others. His android selves were created both to “commemorate [the pioneer’s] sacrifice,” and for the express purpose of sacrificing themselves to keep his original body away from danger. Sacrifice is woven into their beings, just as it runs through Clarence’s veins. It is this enduring selflessness that leads Clarence down the path of a martyr, time and time again.

Awakening’s movie was a warning for Clarence that opened his eyes to the suffering that his selflessness can, and will, wreak in its wake. His diligent and conscientious nature often has him shouldering the weight of responsibility, but it can also lead to him losing himself in his duty. In order to fulfil his role to the best of his ability, he overextends himself, inadvertently letting himself be consumed by what he believes he ought to be and do. Clarence yearns to save the world, to protect the people that live in it, and so he offers himself up as a tool to be used. He gives himself over to his cause, devoting all of himself to it even as the burden of it devours him whole. A selfless sacrifice that saves countless lives, but that selfishly brings pain to those who care for him.

A good tragedy is at once avoidable and inevitable; avoidable because there are other choices to be made, and inevitable because its actors will always choose the path that leads to despair. It is written into their beings, into who they are as people and what they stand for. There is no other version of this tale, no better outcome, because they are human and they will not pick the rational option. They will pick the option that calls to their heart.

At that crossroads, faced with the risk of venturing towards the power plant and the safety of remaining with his companions, Clarence chooses the former. There is no doubt that he knows he is marching to his death; still, he bears the weight of this sacrifice, in order to fulfil his duty to protect his fellow fighters. Even though there is no guarantee that he will succeed, Clarence undertakes this lonely mission in an effort to do all that he can for the world that he loves. He opts to venture alone into the jaws of danger in order to keep others out of harm’s way, minimising the damage caused to the world and its inhabitants – even if, or perhaps so that, it deals the highest damage to himself. It has always been this way, and will always be this way, for Clarence. The core of the tragedy is that Clarence will always put the world above himself, his duty above his dreams, even if it comes at the cost of everything he is and will ever be.

There’s a parallel, here, with the story of Orpheus. You, as the uninvolved spectator, can criticise him for being irrational, for turning around and losing Eurydice. Yet Orpheus, in that moment, cannot possibly make any other decision. How can you fault a man for having a heart? How can you fault a man for being human?

For all that Clarence is an android, or a cyborg, or a mutant monster, he is also deeply, painfully human. It is impossible for him to be fully rational and objective, and so he pushes himself to his limits in an attempt to be, and berates himself when he cannot. More often than not, Clarence ends up dehumanising himself – both consciously and unconsciously – in order to fulfil his roles and responsibilities. Rather than having them guide his actions, he gives himself over to them, allowing them to shape the core of who he is. Clarence pushes himself to extremes that are rational in the logic of his worldview, but ironically irrational to the external observer that witnesses the depths of his pain.

One particular line in Awakening stood out to me: “What’s important is that you shouldn’t be sad. You should be happy and free. You should be the beam of light that penetrates the thick clouds.” While this line illustrates how Clarence prioritises MC’s happiness, it also illuminates MC’s role in his story. Her presence in his life teaches him that he can seek happiness for himself, too, rather than solely living in servitude of a greater purpose. She is the light that parts the fog, the sunlight that melts the snow. While she may always be part of Clarence’s motivation to save the world and the people who live in it, perhaps she may also become his motivation to save himself, too.

Clarence is always all too ready to be a martyr, because he often believes that his most significant contribution to the world is what he can do for it. As long as his purpose is fulfilled, then it does not matter much what happens to him afterwards; there will be others to fill his shoes. Yet MC, in Awakening, directly challenges this notion. “Clarence is irreplaceable. Even with the same appearance and body, no one could ever take his place,” she asserts. There can be a second Archmage, or another Falcon, or countless clones in his likeness – but there is only one Clarence, who is precious by virtue of who he is and not what he can do. Clarence, whose worth is not defined by his roles and responsibilities, no matter how much he believes it to be so. This is the arc of his growth – learning to view and cherish himself as a person, not a mere tool to be used.

thank you for reading!♡

if you have any thoughts about this meta post, i’d love to hear them! responses are always welcome, and my ask box is open~

for more lovebrush meta: here's my brief azure island analysis + theorising! nervously anticipating clarence's route tomorrow...

#lovebrush chronicles #lovebrush chronicles meta #for all time #clarence clayden #awakening clarence #lbc clarence #lbc spoilers #sol's meta musings

[rikeijo]

I’m glad I found your post. All the other posts I found about the movie cancellation wasn’t as in depth as your posts. I eventually was able to come to the same conclusion as you did but I didn’t realize the screening didn’t go well. 😮‍💨I remember it taking place in Japan and I regretted not being able to just go to Japan and see it. I just don’t understand how the trailer flopped, I feel like the trailer/teaser in 2020 did fairly well online with 4 million views

Hello again!

The trailer really flopped, and it wasn't even a surprise to most people. It's just that because people in the Eng fandom have limited access to info, it's easier to dismiss all bad things as made up (unrelated, but like people believe that all the unsavory tweets by Mitsurou are made up, but they aren't... Quite the opposite, they are very in-character for her public persona), and only focus on the good stuff, while the reality was that YoI fandom in Jp was and still is known as being quite unhinged to put it mildly.

The trailer flopped mainly because fujoshis simply moved from YoI to the next popular thing (now they are probably like 4 or 5 ships further) and a lot of people, who stayed in the fandom were those people, who treat YoI as nothing more but inspiration for VicYuu porn anyway, so they didn't want to see their 'seme' character in a frilly skirt. Some people also felt that the fandom is just too cursed and left (constant complaining that official merch is shit, official arts are shit and not VicYuu, making fun of artists that drew those arts, Mitsurou-hating, Avex-hating, other staff members-hating, prequel movie-hating, because how dare they make a prequel movie about feminine Victor? YoI should be just a nice playground for VicYuu fujos! The creators should just bend their knees and stop being difficult 😡).

This is the result:

Part I (Ep. 1-4 + teaser)

25025 seats/ 6906 tickets sold 25626/4430 25041/2461 24966/1124 24358/917 24356/1096 23201/859

Only 17793 out of 172573 seats sold, that means 90% of seats were empty.

Part II (Ep. 5-8 + teaser)

19263/4449 17475/3625 14693/2283 17822/1022 17721/858 18176/1125 17291/828

Part III (Ep. 9-12 + teaser)

11452/4834 9653/4684 9815/3697 11608/1992 11003/1726 11732/2033 11087/1980

Overall total 70722 out of 543937 seats sold during those 3 weeks - that's only 13%, even though in week 2 and 3, the number of seats was already reduced, because it was unprofitable to keep it at week 1 level (this is how it works - too many seats, the seats are reduced; too few seats, the seats are added). The data are from here. It's a very unfair comparison, but the last Eva eg. did around 250000 on day one, even though it was Monday, iirc. JJK almost 800000... on day one. Conan today has 180000, even though it's its 4th week.

Just imagine how much IceAdo would cost to produce, taking into consideration that they asked multiple Olympic-level skaters for choreography and the budget was planned when YoI was hyper popular.

#ask

[radiaurapple]

Lucid Dreams of New Orleans: Chapter 3

CHAPTER SUMMARY: IN WHICH Lucifer makes a choice he is likely to regret.

The last time Lucifer saw his father, he was granted a fragment of His divine power — a punishment in the guise of a blessing — that he might serve as steward of the wayward souls cast down into Hell. It is a cruel gift, designed to ensure that he will always be haunted by his mistakes; Lucifer has endured the past seven thousand years by avoiding its use at all costs. But in the aftermath of the fight with Adam, Alastor's worsening injury threatens the foundations of his daughter's dream. Lucifer does what any good father would do: he uses his long-forgotten power to deliver Alastor's soul from the brink of destruction. In turn, knowing Alastor — with all his sins, past lives, and heartbreaks — teaches Lucifer a little more about what it means to be human.

[AO3 LINK]

Hi! here's the latest chapter of my radioapple fic!! things are gettin crazy!! Im very excited about this chapter so I attempted a drawing to accompany it as well ❤️ As always next chapter will be posted in 1 week. 📻🍎

Chapter preview below!

Charlie is still a little girl on the night of the first extermination. When the screaming starts, Lucifer is in her room, curled around her tiny body, his wings a cocoon around them –– he sings softly in her ear, even as she cries and bangs her tiny fists against his chest. 

“Daddy,” she sobs. “Help them –– please!”

I can’t, he doesn’t say. She hasn’t learned, yet, that there are no correct moves in this game –– that he is a pawn locked in Heaven’s trap, always three steps behind. 

It is Lilith who oversees the exterminations. In those years, she often returns with a scrape or two from an angelic weapon. These are a joy to heal –– her soul is made of Lucifer’s most treasured memories. It feels less like a curse, then, to crawl into her arms –– to press his forehead to hers and dive back into Eden. 

When he touches her, it is easy to forget that Eden was an age ago.

When Charlie is thirteen, the Exorcists arrive six hours early; the denizens of Hell are unprepared, still out drinking to their own impending doom. It is a massacre. 

When the rift opens, he is at Lu Lu World with Charlie. He brought her there to cheer her up before the extermination. The Exorcists swarm the park in seconds — Lucifer pulls Charlie against his chest to whisk her away, but not before she catches sight of a ticket-taker with an angelic arrow in his heart.

She struggles in Lucifer’s grip, her hand outstretched, as if there were anything she could do — and then they both dissolve in a red shimmer of light. 

They materialize in the parlor.

Charlie snarls — her horns sprout from her forehead. “Let me go!” she yells.

Lucifer releases her instantly. She stumbles forward; Lucifer reaches out a hand to steady her, but she rounds on him and bats it away. 

“I can’t believe you!” She says. “I know you heal Mom when she comes back from the exterminations. If I had that power, I’d be out there right now, trying to save as many lives as I could. They’re our people, dad!” 

Lucifer frowns, removes his hat, and runs a hand through his hair. “Come on, Charlie. You know I can’t do that.”

Charlie squares her shoulders in defiance. “Why not?” 

Lucifer sighs. He crosses into the dining room and sits at the table. He’s tempted to tell her the entire truth –– but of the host of indignities that come with his sentence, the worst has always been explaining each punishment to his daughter. Her naïve confusion when she learned he once lived in Heaven still haunts his nightmares. 

He drops his head in his hands. 

Charlie’s soft footsteps –– she pulls out the chair next to his and sits down.

Lucifer sighs and settles for a partial truth. “You and I are very alike,” he says. “It is sometimes more natural for us to … care.” 

Charlie’s hand lands on Lucifer’s back. He looks up at her.

“One day you’ll understand that caring is part of our punishment here,” Lucifer says. “The more you care for these sinners, the more it hurts.”

[AO3 LINK]

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #alastor #lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #appleradio #duckiedeer #fanfic #mine #ao3 fanfic #ao3