#((anyway it's I Feel Shitty so Comfort media day))

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere! vox with fem!reader scenario

Warning: obsessive behavior, implied violence, stalking, implied emotional and physical abuse, brief mention of toxic relationship [vox/val], implied brainwashing, knowledge based on spoilers from the first two episodes of the 2024 show and the Hazbin Hotel comics.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to another Hazbin Hotel fic, starring Hell's one and only flat-screened overlord, Vox! Special thanks to @isuckatwritingsobenice and @lbcreations-blog for helping me shape up the rough draft of this piece, I can't wait until I get enough time off from work to watch this series! :)

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's go live with Vox's broadcast!

The overlord of technology has been in an on-off relationship with Valentino for a while, so any affection Vox has received from the egotistical prick is either a ploy to get him to do whatever he wanted or that the owner of the Porn Studios was in the mood to play the role of a lover before he got bored again. He had a brand and reputation to uphold in Hell, so any word about him and Val being together is kept under tight wraps. No one knows about it except maybe Velvette. God knows how many times the moth demon had wreaked havoc in the fashion designer’s office on the way to his own quarters, red smoke and all.

Of course the one tantrum when the television demon decided to not fight back and just dump Val’s ass because he was sick and tired of the bullshit, it had to happen a week until Velvette’s new clothing line was about to go live. So of course he, the most level-headed one of the Three Vs and the one responsible for the mess, had to clean it up. Yeah, just another fucking day with Val. Fuck his life. 

Anyway, he’s a very busy man managing the other V’s social media networks including his own workload in his own studio. Considering that he’s now single again (at least for the moment), he saw no reason to get involved with anyone else right now unless it was to relieve some of his frustrations…privately. Late one evening and on his third cup of coffee, Vox was going through the applications that responded to Velvette’s newest job post. Same occupation, same shitty pay, but every designer and seamstress in the Pride Ring wanted to work with Hell’s queen of fashion. He was just weeding out the applicants who did not have what his associate wanted in an employee. And he’s doing it because he owed a favor, not because he can’t sleep. That was when Vox saw your resume. 

He skimmed through it, raising an eyebrow in slight interest. It seemed a little embellished…but the credentials were there, at least from what he could see. And you were good-looking, so that is a bonus too. Shrugging his shoulders, he swiped his hand to the right, sending the document to the small electronic pile of Maybe and moved on to the next one. That one immediately got sent to the Rejection pile. 

A few weeks later, he saw you working in Velvette’s studio through the cameras, hunched over a desk and so entirely focused on a sketchpad that you paid no mind to her chewing out to the other designers about their shitty designs for the next collection. 

“You! New Girl!” 

Her peevish voice addressing you was what brought you out of your reverie. Straightening your spine, you turned to her and quickly strode to her. You must have known what she wanted, because you gave her the sketchpad. Velvette flipped through it, eyeing the pages critically until her bloodshot eyes widened in delight, tapping a manicured black nail against it rapidly before dragging you to a mannequin, barking at you to start creating whatever caught her attention. And it was rare for Velvette to be pleased with anyone else’s works except her own. Her creativity is what kept her clothing line at the pinnacle of fashion. You were getting more and more interesting as he began to watch you more throughout the day. Discreetly, of course. Vox would be damned if his associate found out that he’s eyeing one of her employees. 

He saw how dedicated you were to your work, how you thrived under pressure from Velvette instead of crumbling from it and that was when your creativity blossomed into its full potential. But what he admired about you the most is that you were always calm. You never raised your voice at anyone. You always looked at a problem as if you were dissecting it before making a move. Creative thinkers took risks, and so did you. 

But he’s not looking for a relationship. He wants to focus on his work. He wants to make his business thrive and crush any competition who would dare to try and get one up over him. He is annoyed as fuck that you’ve caught his attention and hasn’t done anything to make him want to stop looking at you. Why won’t you leave his mind? Why is he constantly looking through your social media accounts to see what you’re up to and if there is anyone else in your life? Why?

Because he’s fucked. Fuck his life. 

Vox believes that he is the brains behind the Three Vs’ success and how they could not have made it this far without his technology and other businesses. But the truth is that this overlord, the one who commanded over electronics, can be emotionally immature if he is pushed too far. You saw how he acted when Alastor made his comeback, right? If you did, well, you now know that his buttons can be pushed if he isn’t seen or acknowledged by someone. And if you were to ignore him as the Radio Demon did…you better run. 

Because if there is a screen or a camera, he will use it to find you no matter where you are in Hell. There is no doubt that he will jump out of it with a static pop, begging you to give him a chance to prove himself with fat, watery tears falling down his flat-screen face. 

He is an overlord, one of the Three Vs. He is good-looking, charming, a manipulator, a liar, he could use his powers to hypnotize into submission if he really wanted to and runs a successful business. What more could you possibly want when he is obviously the best choice to have as a lover in Hell? Can’t you see? You belong to him!

Taglist

@doc-tooth

@lbcreations-blog

@nixie-writes

@imperfectbloodmoon

@chroniccorvus

@angelltheninth

@hellbornediamonddreams

@riddle-simp

@blackmageoffandoms

@tired-of-life-86

@frenchtoastmafia

@lanxianschoenheit

@riotakire

@quintillion4

If you would like to be tagged in future yandere hazbin x reader fics, please comment on this post here. If you do not comment, then you will not be added on the taglist.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel vox #forbidden-sunlight #yandere vox x reader #fem!reader #ns.fw #cw stalking #tw stalking #tw obsessive behavior #cw obsessive behavior #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere #cw obsession #tw obsession #cw physical abuse #tw physical abuse #cw emotional abuse #tw emotional abuse #hazbin hotel 2024 #cw toxic relationship #tw toxic relationship

[pctaldrunk]

i have so much nostalgia for the s.tar t.rek reboot god

#ooc : give me a second i need to get my story straight #((OBJECTIVELY very flawed series)) #((-stares at b.enedict c.umberbatch's casting-)) #((BUT ALSO)) #((UG L I E S O B B I N G)) #((anyway it's I Feel Shitty so Comfort media day))

[cloudysonder]

In Response to Criticism of Loser, Baby

According to the yt comments under prime's upload of Loser, Baby, apparently some folks are taking offense to Husker comforting Angel by telling him he's a loser and to get over it and somehow framing this lovely lovely song as victim blaming??

the media literacy bar really is in hell

I do think the song plays out far better in the context of the show, and isn't really made to be a standalone piece of consumable media, though I will be treating it as such in the coming days by endlessly looping the video

anyway, this is a song that brings comfort and hope to both characters thanks to who each character is and what situation each is in. These are vital pieces of context that are important to understanding the message of the song. It's important to realize one method of comfort is not going to work for every situation-- the particular method in Loser, Baby works because of what the characters are looking for in the moment.

Husk confronts Angel on his self-destructive tendencies, to which Angel responds that drugs, sex, and immediate dopamine hits are his escape, and that, even in the worst case, even if he destroys himself, it'd be better than the situation he's currently in (a suicidal, scary thing to say)

In the previous scenes in the show, we've seen that Angel takes an almost comedic level of pride in his work, eager to drag the gang off to sex dungeons and show them his porn tapes. He delights in how uncomfortable his world makes them and constantly does bits, putting on a character that's hypersexual, that seems like he's in control and wants to be doing the sex work he's doing

This is very clearly an attempt at masquerading a level of power over his life that he doesn't actually have; in reality, he has no choice but to be sexually exploited, but if he acts like he chooses it, it almost feels like he owns his life. Or, really, it almost looks to others that he owns his life. It's all about performance and perception with Angel; he hates the idea of looking like someone who needs saving, hates looking like a victim, and hates being seen as powerless, so he tries to act like he's none of those things. Of course, he can't really lie to himself, so he resolves that inner turmoil (suffering that he completely internalizes because he doesn't want to break his facade) through drugs, sex, alcohol, and even pain as distraction.

Which is why "Loser, Baby," is so fucking wonderful! Husk is telling him, over and over, that he's not fooling anyone, that his little character he's sacrificing so much to play isn't worth it, that Angel's a loser and everyone can tell. If you take his words at face value, it's cruel and unkind and could make things worse--- that is, if this wasn't Husk and he wasn't talking to Angel.

It's freeing. Angel is being told that he doesn't need to do his bullshit performance, that he can be a loser, and that everyone at the hotel's a loser too, so no one's gonna judge him. It's a song about accepting where you are in life, about stopping Angel's denial of reality and refusal of vulnerability.

Most of all, it's a very kind gesture on Husk's part. It wouldn't have worked if Husk hadn't also loudly called himself a loser and opened up about his past mistakes. It's a wonderful song about mutual vulnerability and accepting imperfections and mistakes and accepting that you're in a shitty place so you can finally stop self-destructing and start finding solace in other people also in shitty places.

also it's gay soooooo not too much on my beloved huskerdust

#huskerdust #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel character analysis #hazbin hotel loser baby #loser baby #angel dust #husker #husk

[chvnnie]

stray kids as dads

skz ot8 x reader

word count: 13.9k (1k-2k per member)

genre: fluff, some suggestive content, a dash of angst with minho - MINORS DNI

warnings: illness (stomach bug - chan), mentions of birth, jisung gets a lil mopey, mentions of food, almost oral (seungmin, fem receiving), it's just really fluffy tbh. if i missed anything - PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

summary: a day in the life of dad stray kids

a/n: i have baby fever and i'm making it everyone's problem. also sometimes i write fluff - this brought me lots of comfort so i hope it does for you as well.

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents stray kids members as people or the band as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @agustd-essert, @gibbysupremeacyisreal, @katieraven, @miamormi, @woahfruity, @isilentprincess

Bang Chan

When you’re expecting, everyone tells you to get all the sleep you can, because it’ll be a while before you get a full night’s sleep again. All these things about “sleep when the baby sleeps” or “you won’t ever be able to catch up”. In Chan’s case, he found the lack of sleep the easiest part of parenting. He never slept anyway, what difference did a baby make?

Chan functions best between the hours of midnight and 5 am, which made him the obvious choice to take over night time feedings/diaper changes. You were exhausted, Chan wasn’t, so what was the point in waking you up? 

He spent most nights in his home studio after you fell asleep, keeping the baby monitor on full volume so he could run back upstairs when needed. Most nights, when the baby stirred, he would just take them back down to the studio with him, snuggling as he worked until they fell back asleep.

It was a great routine, and Chan was almost sad when all his kids started sleeping through the night. There was no need for a monitor in his studio anymore, nobody waking up for a midnight snack or just some cuddles - he wasn’t really needed at night anymore. Chan went to his home studio less and less at night, trying to adjust to everyone else’s sleep schedule. There were some positives to this; he got to fall asleep with you now instead of after you, he never missed family breakfast anymore, he got to take his kids to school. Following everyone else’s routine was better in the long run.

Even though he missed the one on one time he got with his kids. There was something special about those late night snuggles that he wasn’t able to recreate.

A stomach bug entered the Bang household suddenly and aggressively. It started with the oldest daughter. Chan got a call from her piano teacher to come pick her up from practice, saying that she had been vomiting aggressively for the past ten minutes. He broke many traffic laws racing to his daughter's school, and then just as many to get to the ER, just to be told it’s just a really shitty stomach bug.

The bug then began to bounce around, hitting his youngest daughter next. For two days, Chan ran between the girls’ bedrooms, bringing soup, gatorade, crackers - whatever they needed, he was right there to help him. He wanted to help them feel better while keeping you and the baby away from the bug. The last thing he wanted was for either of you to get sick. So, it made sense that the next person to get sick was himself.

Chan slept on the floor of the bathroom the first night. The tile was so cool against his body, which was so hot. He opened every window in your bedroom to try and cool his body off as he laid immobilized on the bed. The second day, you came in and shut the windows.

“I understand you’re hot, Chan, but it’s snowing outside.”

With all the strength he could muster, he rushed you out of the bedroom. The top floor of the house was ground zero, and now knowing first hand how awful this bug was, he wanted you as far away from him as possible. 

The third day, Chan began to feel better. He was able to make it to the bathroom without having to stop for a break, and could successfully hold down soup. With the girls fully recovered, and Chan more than halfway there, he began to feel optimistic that the bug would skip over you.

Then, the baby got sick.

Within the next 10 hours, you started to vomit.

Chan was moved out of the bedroom and into his home studio so you and the baby could quarantine in there. From what Chan could tell, you got the worst of it. The first night he sat next to you while you sobbed into the toilet, afraid to leave because you didn’t know when the nausea was going to hit again. You could barely pick your son up, who weighed at least 10 pounds less than both the girls did at 15 months. Every time he cried, you would cry harder, feeling both miserable and guilty, like you were the one who got him sick.

The only positive was that both you and the baby slept, and slept hard. The physical exhaustion from vomiting and sweating all day meant you both were getting at least 12 hours a night. That was the only time Chan would leave your side, wandering down to the couch in his home studio.

Chan tried really, really hard to fall asleep that night. He took melatonin, drank sleepy time tea, even wore an eye mask to make sure it was completely dark. He just couldn’t shut his brain off. It was jumping all over the place - from worrying about you, to coming up with new track ideas. He couldn’t calm down enough to go to sleep.

Chan removed the eye mask to check the time on his phone. 11:00. He had been trying to fall asleep for 45 minutes without success.

“Fuck it.” He mumbled to him before turning on the lights and powering up all his equipment.

If he couldn’t sleep, he sure as fuck could work.

///

2:45 am, and Chan was thanking whatever God he could that Jisung’s sleep schedule was just as fucked up as his.

“I just finished the hook for this track, if you want to give it a listen.” Jisung’s groggy voice filled the empty studio. “If you’re too tired, I get it. Just thought you might want to-“

“Nah, man. I’m wide awake. Send it.” Chan said, clicking open his email to get ready for the track.

He listened to Jisung’s keyboard click as he waited. “Sent. Everyone in your house still feeling bad?”

The notification popped up before Chan could even refresh the page. “Almost everyone. The girls are feeling better, for the most part. I still feel a bit nauseous but not bad. Not as bad as…”

“Yeah, no, we got it too.” Jisung sighed. “I’m the only one who hasn’t started throwing up, so I’ve been on newborn duty.”

Chan smiled to himself, remembering when his kids were that small and the long nights spent together in the same room he was in now. “That was my favorite part.”

“Of course it was. You never sleep, it makes sense for you to take on the night shift.”

“I mean, true. But god, the alone time with them? The way their weight felt against my chest as they slept while I worked? There’s nothing like it. I miss it.”

Jisung chuckled softly. “I get that. Being needed is always nice.”

The conversation ended there, as Chan pulled up the track to review it. He smiled while listening to it; Jisung never produced a bad track, even if he hated hearing it.

“Ji, man. You just get better everyday.” Chan said as soon as the track ended.

“Shut the fuck up. The beat at 15 seconds sounds funny-“

“It’s different, but it flows well with the rest of the song.” Chan saved the track to his computer. “I want to play around with it a bit but I doubt there’s any adjustments I need to make. It’s fucking good.”

He could hear Jisung getting flustered on the other end of the phone. “You can change whatever you need. I have some other-“ his friend was cut off by a sudden wailing noise in the background. “Again? She literally fell asleep an hour ago- Ah, Channie, I gotta go.”

Chan smiled, feeling slightly envious of his friend. “Go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Jisung gave a quick goodbye before he ended the call, leaving Chan alone in silence. He pulled Jisung’s track back up, deciding to start messing around with it now. Maybe he could get it back to him before 5:00-

Chan was so caught up in the track that he didn’t hear the basement door close, or the thumping of tiny feet against the hardwood floor. He didn’t even notice his youngest daughter sneaking into the studio, dark, curly hair clinging to her face, a kangaroo doll clutched to her chest. He didn’t know she was there until he felt something tugging on his shirt sleeve.

Chan whirled around, spooked by the sudden movement. “Jesus Christ- oh. Jellybean, you scared me.” Chan said with a laugh. “What are you doing awake?”

She sniffled, and then Chan realized she had been crying. “I had a nightmare, Papa.”

“Oh, baby.” Chan scooped his daughter up, gathering her in his arms. His fingers found her hair, slowly threading them through it in an attempt to calm her down. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head as she squeezed Chan tighter. “Just want Papa.”

“I’m right here, love.” Chan slowly moved the chair back and forth in a rocking motion, like he would do when they were babies. He kissed the top of her head, sweaty from sleep. As long as she needed him, he would stay, holding her against his chest.

“I have to do some work, Jellybean, but you can stay here with me if you want?” Chan whispered, pulling his chair back into the desk.

Sniffling, your daughter gave a small yes, determined to stay until she was certain there wasn’t anything lurking in her closet like her dreams had made her believe.

Chan played Jisung’s track at a low volume, adding some minor adjustments. He felt his daughter’s heart rate slow down, her sniffling stop, and he was almost certain she was asleep until she spoke again:

“Papa make this?”

“I wish. It sounds good, right?” She nodded her head in response. “Uncle Ji made it.”

He felt her smile softly against his chest. “Pretty.”

“It is pretty.”

His daughter moved her head to look up at her father. “Uncle Ji has a new baby, right?”

“Mhm. Baby girl.”

“Can we see baby soon?“

Chan smiled down at his daughter before pressing a kiss against her forehead. “When mommy and bubba feel better, we can go over and meet the baby.”

She smiled for the first time that early morning as she thought about holding the new baby. She nuzzled back into her father’s chest and said: “I like babies.”

“Babies are great.”

“I wish I was still a baby. Like Bubba. Or Uncle Ji’s baby.”

“Well, you may not be a baby. But, you’re my baby.”

“I like being your baby.”

Chan felt his heart swell as he squeezed his daughter. 

Babies were fun. That bonding time Chan had with all his kids was fun. But this? This was so much better.

Lee Minho

Minho had been looking forward to this trip for weeks.

He had “spontaneously” planned it about a month ago after a long phone call with his mom. His parents didn’t live too far away from you guys; in fact, you often saw them once a week for family dinners. But, within the last few months, you all saw less and less of each other; weekly family dinners turning into monthly, if you’re lucky. The loss of family time had made his mom sad, and Minho shared that sentiment. He was close to his family, and not seeing them enough brought his mood down considerably.

After the phone call ended, Minho made his way to your shared bedroom. The bedroom tv softly played reruns of your comfort show, filling the otherwise dark room with soft blue tones. You were sitting with your back against the headboard, comforter bunched at your waist, breast pump humming softly. Minho shut the bedroom door quietly, causing your attention to shift from the tv to him.

You gave your husband a gentle smile, the same smile that made him fall in love with you all over again, and made grabby hands at him. Minho quickly dove into the bed, pushing his lower body under the duvet and resting his head in your empty lap.

Your right hand found his hair, threading your fingers through it slowly. Minho’s body visibly relaxed. 

“Everything alright? You were on the phone for a while.”

Minho sighed sadly. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. I just miss my parents.”

“Me too, my love.” You said with a pout. “Did you invite them over for dinner this week?”

“I did, but dad has a work thing he can’t get out of.” Minho’s legs intertwined with yours as he tried to bring you closer to his body. 

You two sat in silence for a bit. Minho felt his eyes grow heavy as you continued to play with his hair. Nobody had ever played with his hair before you. The first time you did it was at the beginning of your relationship, when he had had a really shitty day. You had held his head to your shoulder as he cried into it, one hand running up and down his spine while the other found his head. Ever since then, Minho sought your hands for comfort any time he was upset. He could always feel the tension leaving his body once your nails raked against his head. He felt safe and loved in your hands. You protected him.

“Min.” You whispered, removing your hand from his hair. “Can you move for just a second? I need to take the pump off.” 

Minho rolled off your lap and onto his pillow, watching you as you carefully removed the full bags. His eyes drifted from your breast to the bassinet right next to the bed.

“When did she fall asleep?”

“About 45 minutes into your phone call.” You placed the sealed bags on your bedside table. “She was not very happy with me, though.”

“She’s never very happy with you.”

You chuckled softly, causing the corner of Minho’s lips to twitch up slightly. “She never is, is she? She definitely prefers you.”

“Ah, don’t say that-“

“I never said I was upset about it.” Pump off, you pulled yourself out of the bed in search of Minho’s shirt you slept in. “I love how much she loves you, because I love you just as much.”

Minho smiled, eyes never leaving the bassinet. He never thought he was capable of love until he met you, and then he didn’t think could love any deeper until she came along. She had smiled at him first. She had laughed at him first. He had always wished he had a sibling, but now he finally understood why some parents choose not to have more children; one was enough.

She was enough.

You finally found your shirt, quickly putting it on and grabbing the bags of milk. “I’m going to put these in the garage freezer, then we can go to bed. Sound good?”

You had slipped out of the room before Minho could respond, but it was okay. His thoughts were too focused on his daughter, what it felt like to be a parent, to be her parent.

God, he missed his parents.

By the time you made it back to the bedroom, Minho was running you through his idea. He had two weeks of unused vacation time, and you hadn’t left the city since the baby was born three months ago. You both needed a vacation, and Minho needed more family time. He would call his mom in the morning and run the dates by her, making sure they were okay with a two week visit.

And of course they were.

Every morning, on his way out the door, Minho would kiss your forehead, smother the baby with kisses, and shout how many days were left until your mini vacation. 

“20 days!”

“13 days!”

“One week!”

“One more sleep!”

Before Minho knew it, you were making the short drive to his parents. Less than an hour without traffic, he planned to make it there before breakfast.

You sat in the passenger seat, knees up to your chest and leaning towards Minho. His hand rested firmly on your knee, rubbing his thumb in smoothing circles as he drove with one hand. The car was quiet; baby snoozing in her car seat, your playlist quietly filling the car, the morning summer sun warming the car slightly. In Minho’s opinion, it was the perfect day.

“My mom talked about taking Bubs to the zoo sometime this week.” Minho said, voice barely louder than the music.

“Hmm, that sounds like fun. I don’t think I packed her a hat, though.”

“Mom might have one. If not, we can always go out today and look for one. Dad said there’s this cute baby shop close by- FUCK.” Minho shouted, slamming on the brakes. His arm flew out in front of you, keeping you back against the seat.

If he hadn't been paying attention, he would have rear ended the car in front of him who hit the brakes just as hard as he did. The once quiet car was now filled with heavy panting, and loud cries of your daughter who woken from the sudden stop and Minho’s cursing.

“Bubs.” You panted, unbuckling your seatbelt and throwing yourself into the backseat. Quickly buckling her, scooping her into your chest and shushing her as you rocked her back and forth.

Minho was frozen. His arm that braced you still slung over the center console, his other hand gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. His body, once warm from the summer sun, was now ice cold with fear. 

Nothing had happened; it looked like it was just an early morning traffic jam. Someone in front of him hadn’t been paying attention and slammed on their brakes too late, causing a domino effect. Causing him to slam on his brakes so he didn’t hit a car.

It could have been so much worse.

Minho shifted the car into park and quickly unbuckled his seatbelt. Fuck, it felt so constricting. Turning around, he reached behind him to grab your hand.

“Is she okay?” He asked, wide eyes staring at his daughter’s head.

You nodded your head. “I think she just got scared.” He heard your voice crack. His eyes shot up to your face, watching hot tears stream quickly down your face. “Fuck, Minho, that could’ve been so bad.”

“Oh, no.” Fuck traffic laws. Minho crawled over the console into the backseat with you, his mind anywhere but the cars surrounding him. “Hey, no.” His thumbs wiped your face clean. “It’s just a traffic jam. We’re okay.” He pulled both of you into his arms, your face buried into his shoulder as you sobbed.

Minho brought a shaky hand up to your head and slowly began combing your hair with his fingers. He planted a kiss on your forehead, keeping up with the flow of his hands. Your fingers always made him feel safe, and now he needed to do the same for you.

“I'm here. I’m right here, love.”

///

You refused to leave the backseat for the rest of the trip. You leaned over your daughter’s car seat, hands going from her little feet, to touching her little head, to grabbing her chubby hands. This was where you needed to be - right by her side. Even if it was just a little scare, the fear that threatened to drown you wouldn’t leave. You knew eventually it would, but now? For now, you weren’t leaving.

Minho didn’t want to drive. He didn’t want to be separated from either of you. He needed to be next to you, to feel your heartbeat against his chest, to feel your hands in his hair. He needed to feel his daughter’s hand gripping his finger, needed to hear her giggle as he kissed her belly over and over.

The traffic jam didn’t cut much time off the trip - Minho was back on his route in a matter of minutes. He drove quickly, wanting to be out of the car and in your arms.

The moment he parked the car, he was out, running to the back of the car to open your door. Once he flung it open, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in close.

In his head, Minho knew he was overreacting. It was a small traffic jam that was over quickly. If he had been by himself, he would’ve been pissed, but would’ve gotten over it before traffic even started moving again. But, he wasn’t by himself. You were in the car. She was in the car. And there was no way in hell he was going to let anything happen to either of you.

From her car seat, your daughter started to fuss. You turned around to grab her when Minho grabbed your arm.

“Let me.” He said, eyes brimming with tears. “Please.”

You nodded, sliding out of the car so he could climb in and grab her.

Her eyes were still shut, small baby fists up by her face as she tried to stretch the sleepy out. Minho smiled to himself, tears finally falling, as he pulled her out of her car seat.

“Oh, hi my girl.” He whispered. Your daughter, hearing her father’s voice, slowly cracked her eyes open. “I missed you.”

The baby yawned in response, nuzzling herself deeper into her father’s chest. Minho chuckled, leaning down and kissing all over her small face. The baby wiggled, and he swore she was trying to push him away with her tiny little hands. But, Minho didn’t stop. He kissed all over her face, blowing raspberries on her cheeks until she released a shriek like baby laugh.

Minho felt your chin rest on his shoulder, looking down at her. He blew one last raspberry on her belly this time, just to get her to laugh again.

You laughed with your baby. “Oh Bubs, is daddy so silly?”

She giggled in response, nuzzling back into his chest.

Minho was so caught up in his daughter that he didn’t even hear his mother approach the car.

“I thought I heard a car door!”

You turned around, running up to your mother-in-law. “Oh, hi, mom.”

Minho looked up to see you two hug, exchanging “I missed you”s and comments on new haircuts. The baby in his arms squirmed, ready for more attention from her father.

“Do I hear a baby?”

Minho smiled at his mom, then looked back down at his daughter, who was staring at him like he hung the stars.

She didn’t even know he felt the same about her.

As his mom’s voice grew closer, Minho felt safe. Minho felt loved. Minho felt comforted.

It was how he always felt with you and Bubs around, and his mom just added more warmth to those feelings. You two  were his safety.

You two were his home. 

Seo Changbin

Sundays.

A day for sleeping in.

A day for getting those last minute chores done before the new work week begins.

A day for easy dinners and family tv show nights.

Most families would say Sundays are their favorite day of the week. Sundays are easy, Sundays are quiet, Sundays are peaceful.

For Changbin, he would say it depends on the season. Because spring Sundays were anything but easy, quiet, and peaceful.

If he slept past 6:30 on a spring Sunday, he could go ahead and count the day as a loss, because there was no way he was coming back from that. All three kids were typically awake by 7:15, the twins grouchy and hungry as Bin tries to get them dressed for the day. You typically took baby duty; he preferred you to your husband and was struggling with dependency issues. Besides, Changbin would much rather tackle the two snappy seven year olds than let you navigate the absolute chaos that was the oldest boys.

The night before, Changbin set multiple alarms to make sure he woke up before you. Sundays were his busiest days, and he wanted to sneak a workout in before the chaos erupted in his household.

The problem with alarms is, no matter how many he sets, he will always sleep through them.

However, he was proud of himself today. He woke up on the third alarm instead of the sixth like usual. For a brief second, he thought this Sunday would be easier than all the other Sundays of this month.

Rolling over in the bed, he reached out for you only to be greeted by cold bed sheets. Changbin quickly sat up, thoroughly confused. He was sure he would be the first to wake up. After all, why would you be awake before him, at 5:45 on a Sunday? He cursed at himself under his breath as he hoisted himself out of bed and threw on the first pair of sweatpants he could find. This shouldn’t have happened. You shouldn’t have been awake before him, and he wanted to know why you were.

The moment Changbin stepped outside of your shared bedroom, he felt his foot press against something strong and sharp. He leaned against the door, hissing in pain as he picked up his foot to investigate what the hell he had just blindly stepped on. 

“Goddamn cleats.” He cussed, kicking the shoe out of his way. How many times did he have to remind the boys to leave their shoes at the front door?

“Seo Changbin, shut UP.” He heard you hiss from the kitchen.

The kitchen?

At 5:45?

Limping slightly, he made his way to the kitchen. On the short walk there, Changbin found himself running into more things: his left big toe stubbed against a bat, he felt a pacifier squish under his foot, one of the twins’ many reusable water bottles almost made him slip and fall on the hardwood.

Changbin used to think he was envious of the people who got to clean on Sundays. Now he realized, as he stepped on the cleat matching the one in front of your bedroom door, he really fucking hated those people.

He was ready to curse everyone who had an easy Sunday until he saw you, and finally realized why you were the first one up.

Your hair was tied messily back, strands falling in front of your face as you supported the youngest of your three sons with one hand and used the other to peel oranges. The youngest had his eyes closed, nestled into your chest as he softly ate. Your shirt (that you had stolen from Changbin within your first year together and refused to return) was wet with a mixture of orange juice and baby spit up. You were frazzled, overworked, and exhausted.

And now, Changbin was upset he overslept for a different reason.

“Baby, why are you awake?” Changbin asked, rushing over to your side to grab the orange you were about to drop.

Once he grabbed it, you leaned against the fridge to support your weight. The baby weighed more than the twins and you were exhausted from supporting him with one arm for so long. “Bean was fussing, so I got up to go check on him and feed him. As I was doing that, I checked my phone and saw a reminder text that it’s our turn to bring snacks to the t-ball game this afternoon. I totally fucking forgot, Changbin. I tried to put him back to sleep, but with his dependency issues and cluster feeding, he wouldn’t let me put him down, so I brought him out here with me.” Your head hit the fridge door with a thud. “I only got three oranges peeled before I heard you yelling.”

Changbin felt his heart sink. He had spent so much time this morning grumbling about being behind schedule when you had been doing all this work by yourself. To say he felt like an asshole would be an understatement. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

You waved your hand as if to dismiss him. “You were sleeping so peacefully, and I knew we’d have a busy day today. I just wanted you to sleep.”

“First,” Changbin placed the orange on the kitchen island and closed the space in between you two, “always wake me up. You are far more important than any amount of sleep. Second, while I feel like such a fucking dick for letting you do this alone, I wanted to let you know how grateful I am for you. You are an amazing wife and an even better mother, and I couldn’t do this without you.” Changbin’s eyes drifted from your face to the baby attached to your chest. He had let go of your nipple, breathing heavily as he slept against your chest. “Third, you suck at peeling oranges. Let me take over. Go put Bean to bed and then yourself.”

“But, Changbin-“

“Nah, I don’t want to hear it. No kid is going to want to eat these oranges with a shitty peel job.” He playfully scoffed. “Who taught you how to do this? No wonder the twins never eat them when you pack them for lunch.”

Using your free hand, you playfully punched his shoulder. Changbin cried out in fake pain and dramatically grasped his shoulder, whining about how you injured his orange peeling arm.

“You’re obnoxious.” You whispered with a grin on your face.

“It’s been 10 years, you’re just noticing that?”

Laughing softly, you grabbed him by the forearm and pulled him in for a kiss. “I love and adore you.”

Changbin pecked your lips once, twice, and then a third time. “I love and adore you, too.”

He watched you walk out of the kitchen, heart swelling in adoration. You were like a superhero in his eyes - someone navigating the world with three loud, clingy boys and their equally clingy father with an abundance of grace. Changbin didn’t know how you did it, but he wanted to, because he never wanted you to have to go through this alone. The baby’s bedroom door shut, allowing Changbin to direct his attention to the half peeled orange in his hand.

He picked up one and glanced at the clock on the oven. 6:00 am. He had maybe an hour to get most of these oranges peeled before he had to start breakfast. There was no way he was going to let the twins go to their t-ball tournament without eating breakfast. Just like he wouldn’t let them go without sunscreen-

Sunscreen.

Shit.

That’s what he forgot to pick up at the store last night.

He aggressively picked at the orange, trying to peel them faster so he could slip away to the store before anyone else in his household woke up.

“Goddamn sunscreen.” He mumbled to himself.

Sundays in the Seo household were busy, loud, and chaotic. 

But goddamn, did Changbin love Sundays.

Hwang Hyunjin

“Fuck.” Hyunjin mumbles under his breath as he takes a sharp left turn, barely missing the car speeding towards him. “Sorry!” He calls as the driver honked at him, as if they could hear his half ass apology.

The car pulled into a parking spot with a squeak, and Hyunjin barely turned the car off before throwing himself out of it. “Fuck.” He curses, yet again, locking the car before running inside. He was late. Like, late late. Hyunjin was never exactly “on time”, but he also was never this late. In his defense, he had lost track of time. It completely slipped his mind that it was Thursday.

There was a line at the clock out desk. He bit his lip and aggressively untied his ponytail, trying to distract himself before he started cursing in front of all the other parents at his daughter’s daycare. When it was his turn, his code didn’t work. Hands shaking with frustration, he pulled his phone out and quickly called you. 

“Hyunjin-“

“What’s your code?” He slightly snapped.

“What code?”

“The code for Pumpkin’s school. What is it?”

“Our anniversary.”

“Which one?”

“Yah, Hwang Hyunjin-“

“We have like, five. Which one?” He hated when he lost his temper with you, and he knew he would be begging for forgiveness later tonight, but he was already going to have to apologize for how late he was.

“Wedding. 1027.” Your voice was laced with anger.

He quickly punched in the code and was rewarded with the click of the front door unlocking. “Thank you, honey.” 

“Hurry, please.” You said and hung up the phone without saying goodbye.

Fuck.

That was three.

When pregnant with Pumpkin, you were insistent on applying for daycares early. They made you nervous, and you wanted some place that you felt safe leaving your child. Hyunjin had remembered Chan talking about this preschool they looked at for his son - very prestigious, excellent reviews, very low acceptance rate. The website promised small class sizes, lots of one on one engagement, parent/teacher interactions daily. It was the perfect school. Five months pregnant, you two toured the school and immediately sent in your application. Hyunjin got the call offering Pumpkin a spot while he was driving you to the hospital. But, she had gotten in. Four years later, you and Hyunjin were still so in love with the school.

So, that’s why he felt bad for sprinting through it today.

He almost slid past Pumpkin’s classroom, leaning in to catch her attention.

“Yah, Hwang.” He said. Your daughter snapped her head around, braids he had put in this morning loose from a busy day of playing. “Let’s roll.”

Your daughter put the marker she was coloring with down before sprinting to her father. Hyunjin squated to catch her, picking her up and spinning her as he kissed all over the top of her head.

“Hey, Pumpkin. How was your day?”

Before your daughter could answer, her teacher popped up in the doorway. “We have some papers for you to take home and sign,” the teacher said, handing Hyunjin what he considered to be a small packet “if you could turn these into the office by Monday, that would be great.”

He nodded, quickly saying thank you. “Say bye, Pumpkin, we’ve got to go-“

“Oh, quickly, before you run off.”

It took everything Hyunjin had inside him not to sigh.

“We had a bit of trouble keeping our hands to ourselves today. We pulled our friend’s hair quite a few times and-“

Your daughter looked up at Hyunjin, face scrunched in disgust. “THEY started it. They touched me when I said NO.”

Fuck.

Four.

“That wasn’t kind of them not to listen, you’re right. But that doesn’t mean you can-“

“But it’s my body, and I said no. Mommy said I can always be mean if they don’t listen to my no-“

“I mean, you’re right-“

“So I can pull hair.”

“No.”

“Why?”

Hyunjin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As much as he wanted to deep dive into this topic, the clock was ticking and they had to go. Now.

Hyunjin grabbed his daughter’s backpack, forcing her to apologize to her teacher before running back down the hallway and out the front door. During the first few years of parenthood, Hyunjin struggled with car seats. He couldn’t figure out the buckles, had a hard time taking them out of the car, and, much to your horror, often forgot to take coats off before buckling in. That mistake he fixed quickly, but the others? It took him years to get it right and get it done in less than two minutes.

Today, however, he broke his record, buckling Pumpkin up and adjusting the chest clip in 30 seconds even. He would brag about that later. It was time to go.

///

The class had already started by the time Hyunjin and Pumpkin came barreling through the door. His daughter, spotting her brother, dropped the doll and made a beeline to him.

Hyunjin sighed, as he scanned the room for you. You were sitting against the back wall with the rest of the parents, still dressed in work clothes, hair bumpy from the bun it had sat in all day. Hyunjin stepped over the other parents, sliding down the open spot next to you. He leaned in to give you a kiss on the forehead, but you moved your head before his lips could connect.

“Hey.” He whispered.

You shook your head. “You’re so late, Hyunjin.”

He sighed, bringing his pointer and middle finger up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I know, I’m sorry. Meetings ran long, and then I got caught up in the studio and completely lost track of time-“

“And then you snapped at me.”

“I did. I’m sorry. I was frustrated with myself for running late and lost my temper. I’m so sorry.” Hyunjin felt like shit. He should know by now; dance practice was every Thursday after school for both kids. You always picked up Bear, he always picked up Pumpkin. It was your family routine since they started dance class. Hyunjin had no excuse.

He stared at his kids who were smiling at each other, whispering about their days. They were best friends, and if Hyunjin thought about their relationship for longer than a few seconds, he would cry. He didn’t have siblings, so watching them love each other filled his heart with a joy he has never known.

“Bear had his timed math quiz today. Answered them all correctly.” You said, head leaning slightly towards your husband.

Hyunjin smiled. You did this often - you hated focusing on conflict for too long, and after apologies were given, you would switch the topic. You never held a grudge, especially against Hyunjin, and he was always grateful for your conflict management.

“Couldn’t have been me.” Hyunjin rested his head on yours, wanting to be closer to you. Typically, you both kept PDA to a minimum, especially at your children’s activities. Hyunjin, however, didn’t give a shit today. He needed to be closer to you. “I was awful at math.”

You chuckled softly, leaning into him more. “Same. I don’t know where he got that from.”

“Pumpkin pulled some kid’s hair today because they wouldn’t stop poking her. She said she told them no, and they wouldn’t stop, so she took matters into her own hands.”

“Good for her.”

“Right? We know where she got that from.” Hyunjin glanced down at you with a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your voice dripping with sarcasm. “I always keep my hands to myself.”

Hyunjin couldn’t stop the loud laugh he released. The night you two had met, and the moment Hyunjin knew he needed to know you, he had watched you throw a drink in a man’s face. The man had been following your friend around all night, not taking no for an answer, and you had just gotten sick of it. When he approached your table for the fifth time that night, you had taken a sip of your vodka soda, then threw it right in his face. The man began to raise his voice at you and threatened you, while you just laughed at him crying over a little vodka in his eyes. Changbin had walked over to try to get the guy to leave you alone, and you had snapped at him, saying you could defend yourself. Eventually, the creep left. Changbin attempted to apologize to you by buying you a new drink, but you waved him off and gave him a quick apology of your own. It was then that Hyunjin went to retrieve his friend, sensing that you and your friends didn’t need another man hanging around your table. You had made eye contact with Hyunjin right as he grabbed Changbin’s arm.

“You don’t need to buy me a drink.” You had said to Changbin before looking at Hyunjin and smirking. “But if you wanted to, I wouldn’t stop you.”

So he bought you a drink. 

And now you were watching your children stretch for their weekly dance class.

Hyunjin couldn’t be happier.

///

Bed time was the most draining part of Hyunjin’s day. It also happened to be bath night, which made the process longer and more complicated than Hyunjin would have liked it to be. 

Pumpkin changed pajamas five times before she felt satisfied with the pair she had on. Hyunjin didn’t see what the difference was between this pair of polka dot pajamas and the other, but he was picking his battles. Finally climbing into bed, Hyunjin sat next to her, opening the first book she requested.

Midway through the book, Pumpkin looked up at her father. “Can you hold me, daddy?” Her voice was so soft, so gentle. How could he say no?

Collecting his daughter in his arms, he continued with the book. By the end of it, she was snoring - head against his right bicep, legs resting on his left arm, little hands gripping on his shirt as if she was afraid of him letting go. Hyunjin closed the book and let it fall to the floor, grabbing his daughter and holding her closer to his chest.

She wasn’t the snuggly kid. When Pumpkin no longer needed support, she rarely sought out hugs or cuddles. She just didn’t want it, and while he respected it, it had completely shattered his heart. He felt like she didn’t need him, and while he adored her independence, he just wanted to hold his daughter like he used to.

Hyunjin shifted lower in the small bed, trying to get more comfortable. He would sit like this just for a few more minutes. Then, he would lay her down, tuck her in, and crawl into bed with you.

Just a few more minutes of this.

Just a few.

///

Hyunjin’s eyes shot open when he felt someone playing with his hair.

“Hey. Want to come to bed?” You whispered, a soft smile on your face.

Wasn’t he in bed?

Why did the ceiling have stars on it?

Hyunjin turned his head to his left, where Pumpkin laid next to him. She had stretched out, but still had a tight grip on his shirt. The duvet covers were twisted and pushed to the middle of the bed, barely covering her little body. One of his legs hung off the side of the bed, foot brushing against the book he dropped earlier in the evening.

He brought a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“11:00.” You whispered. Fuck, he had been asleep a while then. “I didn’t want to bother you, but when I heard something fall, I figured it was time to wake you up.”

Something fell?

Hyunjin lifted his head to see his daughter’s alarm clock on the floor, numbers creating a pink hue on the carpet. He was too lanky for this small bed.

“I should probably…” his voice trailed off once he looked at his daughter again. Sleeping soundly. Eyes twitching as she dreamed. What was she dreaming about? He was dying to know what went on in her little head. 

He looked back up at you, eyes hot with tears. “Can I stay here? Just for a bit longer.” His voice a shaky whisper.

You nodded before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll wake you up in the morning.” 

Hyunjin slowly reached down and grabbed the duvet cover, pulling it over both his and Pumpkin’s body. Pumpkin nuzzled into the warmth, head finding her father’s chest against. Carefully, he moved her slightly so he could fit his other leg on the bed.

She’s spunky. She stays ready to fight anyone who even looks at her wrong. She loves her brother more than Hyunjin ever thought someone could love a sibling. She’s funny, and loud, an absolute force. She looks just like him; big brown eyes, long black hair, always mimicking his disgusted face. She’s absolutely everything to him.

He placed a gentle kiss on her head, before allowing his eyes to shut. He was never leaving her side.

Han Jisung

Jisung is convinced he was made to be a father.

Nothing brings him more joy than caring for others or being needed. He loves when his younger friends, and sometimes older ones, rely on him for support or ask him for advice. He feels important, and likes that they see him as someone they can trust, who is always there for him.

So when you told him you were pregnant, he felt like running laps. It was a big show; first his eyes became saucers as he processed your news. Next came the jaw drop, quickly covered by his hands as he let out a soft screech. “Really?” He asked, and when you nodded, there was too much excitement in his body to stay still. Jisung jumped up from the bed, steps bouncy as he ran over to you, hugging you so tightly you had to warn him to be gentle.

“We’re having a baby.” He whispered in your ear.

The next time he said that sentence, it was more of a scream. So much so that Changbin, on the other side of the phone, cursed at him for being so loud and asked him to repeat himself. Jisung spent the next hour or so calling all of his friends, giddy about the fact that it was his turn to have a baby, and the best part about it? He gets to have a baby with you, the most important person in the world. The person who hung the stars, who holds the entire world in the palm of their hands. You. He gets to do this with you, and that’s all he could ask for.

By month three, he has the hospital bag packed (“We need to be prepared!” He said as he stuffed a quokka doll in the overpacked duffel bag). By month five, he had already read every new parent book he could find at the local bookstore. By month eight, you could place him in the middle of a delivery room and he would know exactly what to do. The amount of knowledge he retained in such a short amount of time was so impressive, and it really worked out in the end.

Your doctor commented that she had never had such a smooth delivery with a patient, and you really had Jisung to thank for it. Not only was he ready, but he knew how to keep you calm, how to support you and make sure you felt as prepared as he did. He helped you up from the bed, to the yoga ball, even to the inflatable pool, which is where you stayed until the baby was born not even an hour later. Sitting behind you in his swim trunks, Jisung held your hand, whispering encouraging words and repeated praises. You were magical, you were strong, and he was completely in awe of you. 

His awe transferred over to your daughter. Your perfect, beautiful daughter with the squishiest cheeks anyone has ever seen. She had a full head of dark hair, and even though she was right out of the womb, she looked so much like Jisung it was almost scary. Copy and paste; she was his twin.

The obsession with her began when you told him you were pregnant, and only grew. Jisung practically lived with a baby carrier strapped to his chest, your daughter nuzzled against his chest as he went about his day. Be it the house or the studio, if Jisung was moving about, you could bet the baby was with him.

She was just as attached to him as he was her; the sound of his voice always made her big, brown eyes light up. She slept better when he put her down, did better in public spaces if he held her. They were inseparable, and it made your heart swell. You had front row seats to their love, often getting to be in the middle of their affection. The little family that everyone dreams of was your reality.

It was one of the rare days Jisung couldn’t take her to work with him; they were shooting all day, and frankly his stylist was over cleaning up baby spit up off his clothes. It broke your heart to see the way his eyes watered as lingered at the bedroom door to find an excuse to stay.

“Are you sure you feel well?” He asks you, trying to blink back his tears. “I can stay and make sure you get enough rest.”

You felt fine, there was no reason to ask that, but you could tell he was trying to find something to get him out of work. To let him stay home with his two favorite people in the world. “Ji.” You whisper, trying not to wake the baby asleep on your chest. “We’re going to be alright. Go to work, we’ll be here when you get back.”

He looks down at his feet, shoving shaky hands into his sweatpants. “I just miss you guys already.” And though you can’t see his face clearly, you know the tears have broken, a little sniffle accompanied by his confession.

A promise to FaceTime him later (more than once) is what finally gets him out the door after you kiss his tears away. Leaving her, leaving you, never gets easier. The older your daughter got, the harder it was to be away from her. Especially in such a heavy developmental stage; he was so scared he would miss big moments.

He had missed the first him she rolled over, and the day she started crawling. When he laid next to her on the ground during tummy time, it shocked him when she proceeded to crawl on top of him instead of staying still. Jisung turned his head to you as you stood by the couch.

“I was about to show you the video, but I guess she beat me to it.” You said with a giggle, dropping to the floor next to him to lay with them. She crawled fully onto Jisung’s chest, chubby baby hands grabbing his cheeks and squishing them between her little fingers. And while he was so proud of her, so excited to feel her death grip on his cheeks, he couldn’t help but feel sad that he missed seeing it first.

All day on set, he looked forward to your calls, praying that he didn’t miss anything exciting. So far the day seemed normal, if not dull. You called as you made breakfast, and he watched her refuse a spoonful of mashed pears.

“She doesn’t like them.” He said, eyes shut as they worked on his makeup. “I told you that, but you never listen-“

“She eats them for you!” You said, and he can hear his daughter fussing as you attempt to try again. 

“Yeah, well she likes me best.” 

When you huffed, he laughed, eyes opening just enough to see a playful pout on your face as you abandoned the pears and tried applesauce instead. You opened your mouth, mimicking the action you wanted the baby to make as you closed in with the spoon. When her lips wrapped around the yellow plastic, you smiled brightly, turning to the camera.

“She never eats applesauce for you.”

He shakes his head, chuckling softly. “Fine, she likes you better.”

“Thanks, I know.”

Both you and Jisung went about your days, him sneakily looking at his phone on set to see if there were any updates. He smiled at the selfies you sent, at the video of her gripping onto your hair and practically ripping it out, and at a clip of her watching one of his music videos, focused on him any time he was on screen. She giggled any time she heard his voice, inching closer to the screen as if she could reach him.

God, he wanted to be home.

Around dinner time, they finally started to wrap up, each member just as antsy to get home to their own families. Jisung was the first one changed and out the door, unable to slow down until he pulled into your neighborhood. The car was barely turned off before he barreled out of it, kicking his shoes off at the garage door and haphazardly throwing his backpack down next to them. Nothing was more important than seeing you two.

He found you in the master bathroom, leaning over the tub that was filled with an abundance of toys, but little water. You were singing to the baby, who was giggling loudly as you gently scrubbed shampoo into her thick hair. 

Good. He hadn’t missed much of bath time.

“Hey.” Jisung said, walking over to the tub and kneeling down beside you. You turned to face your fiancé, smiling happily at his arrival. His lips gently brushed against yours, melting away every ounce of worry and stress the day had brought him. 

“Hi.” You mumbled before giving him another kiss. “Sorry, I would’ve waited for you but somebody-“ you dramatically turned your head, playfully narrowing your eyes at your daughter, who giggled at the quick almost movement. “-decided she wanted to spit dinner up allllllll over herself.”

Jisung gasped loudly, pulling more laughs out of the child, who seemed too proud of herself. “Not my Squish.”

“Oh, your Squish.” Your own laughs were added in this time, unable to keep a straight face any longer. “Can you hang out with her for a minute? I forgot to grab a towel from her bathroom.”

Silly question - of course he was going to say yes.

Rolling up his sleeves, Jisung took over the bath time routine, clicking his tongue as he turned on the tap for fresh water. “Were you a pain today for mama?”

The smile on her face, which was often compared to his own mischievous smile, was telling enough. Covering his daughter’s eyes, Jisung rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, double checking that it was gone before grabbing a rag. Squeezing the soap onto it, he caught her staring at him. Almost a year old, and everyday, he falls in love with her all over again.

God, what did Jisung do to get so lucky?

“Alright, Squish.” Jisung said once the soap was lathered enough. “Ready for dada to-“

“Dada.”

“Huh?”

The rag dropped into the tub, the impact creating a small splash. Blinking, he stared at his daughter, who was ecstatic about the bubbles created by the rag at her feet. He knows he heard her wrong. There was no way she just-

“Say that again?” Jisung asked, completely forgetting that she’s a baby and isn’t capable of speaking on command.

But, she shocked him again. “Dada.” Blinking at him, she reached out for him while babbling his name over and over.

Jisung scrambled to find his phone before he remembered it was in his bag by the garage. Fuck, you need to hear this. He doesn’t want you to miss this-

“Did you wash her body yet?”

“Dada.”

You paused in your tracks, eyes darting from your daughter to Jisung. “Did she just-“

“She did.” He said, wide eyes still staring at the baby, who, much like her father, could not stop talking.

“Dada, dada, dada-“

The towel is abandoned on the ground as you run over to the tub, dropping down to your original position. Side by side, you and Jisung kneeled over the tub, staring at the baby.

“That’s her first word, Ji.” You whisper, reaching out to unfasten her from the bath seat. She didn’t stop talking, even as you pulled her out. Squirming, she reached out for Jisung, calling his name over and over until he took her from your arms.

He took her from you, shirt soaked as the baby settled in his arms. Awestruck, he rubbed her back, listening to her words because more of a babble, but it was impossible for him not to hear it. He was her first word. 

You smiled at him, a hand falling to his cheek and redirecting his attention. When he looked at you, he saw the joyful tears in your eyes, saw the pure adoration you had for the two of them. “I’m so glad you’re home, Ji.”

Lee Felix

People always seemed surprised to find out Felix was a stay at home dad. Before having kids, he was very devoted to his job, often working later hours than necessary and bringing work home with him. He enjoyed his job, but he knew you did as well. So as soon as you surprised him with three sticks and a little stuffed chick, he told his boss that his last day was your due date.

Sure, he loved his job. But he loved you more.

That’s why he was now, very happily, standing in the kitchen making pancakes at 9 am. The five month old slept soundly in the fabric carrier against his chest. Little baby snores filled his ears along with the sound of your three year old’s crayons scraping across her coloring book.

“Bug, what do you want in your pancakes?” Felix softly called.

Your daughter hummed as she thought, then loudly exclaimed: “Chocolate chips!”

Felix laughed and shook his head, grabbing a handful of the semisweet chips and sprinkling them over the pancake.

“Extra, please!”

“Ah, you know you can’t have that much chocolate in the morning.”

She tsked, and for a brief second, Felix wasn’t sure if he was talking to you or your daughter. “But it’s a no school day. Please, daddy?”

Felix was nothing if not whipped.

Laughing softly, he grabbed a small handful and turned to look at your daughter.

“Fine, but don’t tell your mom, okay?”

Your daughter grinned as she nodded in agreement.

Felix swears up and down that she’s a carbon copy of you. From her jaw structure to her hair, all the way to her nose - when he looks at her, he sees you. From the moment he held her, he saw you. If possible, that made him love her even more.

But that smile? That was his. She had his smile, and that was enough for him.

Breakfast went smoothly. Felix decided to save the chocolate chips for your daughter and put blueberries in his. She squealed when she noticed the jar of homemade whipped cream he had placed in the middle of the table (“I helped daddy make this!”) and ended up waking her brother. Somehow, Felix juggled feeding the baby and feeding himself while keeping chocolate (mostly) off your daughter.

Typically, after breakfast, everyone would change out of their jammies into day time clothes. It helped Felix feel more productive, and if they ever needed to leave, he wouldn’t have to wrestle a three year old out of the too-small dinosaur onesie she refuses to take off. Felix decided to switch things up this morning, allowing your daughter to camp out on the living room floor with as many stuffed animals as she wanted and let her watch a movie before they went on their afternoon walk.

Felix enjoyed the simplicity of these kinds of mornings.

Not even halfway through Moana, your daughter was softly snoring at his feet. Felix sat with his back against the couch, on the floor with his children. To his right was the baby, staring up at the dim living room lights from the nursing pillow he was rested on.

“Whatcha looking at, little bug?” He asked in a whisper. The baby’s eyes moved quickly from the lights to his father, staring brightly up at him.

If your daughter had his smile, the smallest child had his eyes. Felix would never grow tired of looking into them.

“Mommy should be home soon.” Felix grabbed the child’s covered foot, shaking it lightly. “She should be here before we go on our walk. Should she come with us?” His fingers danced up the baby belly, softly tickling the sides. “Hm? Do you want mommy to go on a walk with us?”

Your son’s giggles filled the living room, smiling widely as his father tickled him.

That smile? That was yours. And that was Felix’s favorite feature.

Felix was so caught up on making his son laugh that he didn’t hear the front door open. He didn’t hear the way you kicked off your shoes, exhausted from your flight in. He didn’t see you slowly tiptoe into the living room, not wanting to interrupt the giggle party. 

He was laughing with his son, smothering the soft baby face with small kisses. Your son squealed, loving every bit of the attention he was getting from his father.

You would hate to interrupt, but you didn’t want to be left out of the party, either.

“What are you two giggly boys doing?” You asked, leaning over the couch to peek at them.

Your son, seeing your head pop up above him, giggled harder. His stubby hands reached up, wanting to be in your embrace. Quickly, you climbed over the couch and sat next to Felix, scooping the baby up and smothering his face with kisses.

“Oh, I missed you so much baby bug.” You said with a content sigh, squeezing your baby into your chest, determined to never let him go.

Felix pressed a soft kiss against the side of your forehead. “Hey, love.”

You smiled, turning to fully face him. He was so close you could count his freckles. “Hi.”

Felix’s left hand reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Leaning into his touch, you sighed. Your work took you to many places, but no place felt as warm as here did. No place felt as comfortable. As soon as your plane landed at a new destination, you were always ready to leave.

Because any place without Felix, without your babies, wasn’t a place worth being.

Felix kisses you deeply, hand holding your chin steady. He tasted like whipped cream and coffee, smelled like baby soap and his cologne. He brought both hands to your face to kiss you deeper. He wanted you to feel how much he loved you. How much he missed you.

Whenever someone asked Felix why he chose to stay home with his children, the answer was always an easy one.

“I love you.” You whispered against his lips.

He smiled, kissing the tip of your nose.

Because nothing, no job, no person, no place, would ever mean more to him-

“I love you, more.”

Your hand softly touched his cheeks, ready to go in for another kiss, when you heard movement at your feet.

-than the three of you do.

“Mommy?” Your daughter asked, voice groggy with sleep. She crawled up both yours and Felix’s legs, burying her face in your lap.

You smiled, tucking her hair behind her ears as she fell back asleep.

“You know,” you whispered, careful not to disrupt the peace, “she looks like you.”

Kim Seungmin

Seungmin firmly believes you can never be too prepared.

Car won’t start? Don’t worry, Seungmin has jumper cables and his mechanic on speed dial if he can’t get it started for you. Forgot your headphones for a five hour flight? Not sweat; he brought three extra pairs just in case. Stupid hangnail bothering you? Give him a second to find the spare set of clippers he always has. And don’t worry, they’re sanitized after every use.

If anything, you could say that Seungmin is over prepared.

But isn’t it better that way? No more stressing, trying to figure out how to handle a situation that’s just been thrown at you. If Seungmin is there, you have nothing to worry about, because he’s ready. His backup plans have backup plans. You can rest easy knowing he is prepared for the absolute worst at any moment.

Well, every moment, except one.

He knew about your pregnancy before you did. His phone had notified him that your new cycle was due, so he waited for your typical period requests. 

“Can we just order in tonight?” 

“I ate the last of the popcorn, could you go out and grab more?” 

“Minnie, could you pretty please run a hot bath for me?”

As always, he was prepared.

But when days passed with no requests, Seungmin began to think it wasn’t coming.

He came home with two boxes, four tests in total. You were confused - your period was only five days late. It wasn’t that big of a deal. But, knowing how your husband always wants to be prepared, you agreed to take the tests. 

You two sat crisscross on the bathroom floor across from each other, tests face down. When the alarm went off, you grabbed two each, counted down from three, and flipped them at the same time.

Four VERY positive tests.

And thus, the baby prep began.

Seungmin read every book he could get his hands on, from what to expect during birth to early childhood development textbooks. He researched different ways to give birth, took notes, and thoroughly discussed every option with you. He watched so many birthing videos, he could probably deliver a baby himself. Seungmin asked all the right questions at every appointment without overstepping, listened to you about what you felt was best, and made sure he was ready for a baby to come at any moment.

The hospital bag was packed at twelve weeks. The nursery? Up at twenty weeks and finished within a day, with the help of Seungmin’s friends.

“Why do I have to build the crib? It’s not my baby.” Jisung whined from the nursery floor. 

“Shut up and hand me the screwdriver.” Changbin replied.

Kim Seungmin, prepared for anything.

You were late and growing more frustrated by the day. The back pains were almost unbearable, you bend over to tie your shoe, and why, for the love of god, were you dripping in sweat in the middle of January?

Your doctor set a date for induction, even though you fought her on it.

“We’ll schedule it just in case.” She said, helping you off the exam table. “If he comes sooner, great, but we need to be prepared in case he needs some help.”

“I just would rather him come when he’s ready.”

Your doctor smiled sympathetically at you. “I understand. This is just a backup plan. I can give you some tips on how to naturally induce labor so we can try to avoid medically inducing it.”

And of course, Seungmin made sure you tried every single suggestion.

He even worked them into your nightly routine.

Before dinner, you two would take a 20 minute walk. Seungmin made dinner extra spicy every night, making sure you ate an entire jalapeño pepper with every meal. 

And of course, the most effective method: sex.

All the time. Everywhere. Any chance you both got, Seungmin was on you. In the shower, on the couch, in the studio; Seungmin was happy to help you get this baby out.

Even with all his hard work, you were no closer to labor than you were at your last appointment. 

Two days until your induction date, and Seungmin’s fingers were lightly tracing circles on the inside of your thigh.

“We don’t have to.” He whispers, placing a soft kiss on your belly.

“I want to.” You said, lightly grabbing his hand. “I want to try.”

Seungmin smiled gently at you, picking up your hand and pressing a firm kiss against it. “I love you.” He whispers, dropping your hand and returning to your thighs. Picking your leg up, he rested your foot on his shoulder and began to pepper kisses on the inside of your thigh. “You’re incredible.” His other hand slowly worked up your other thigh, drawing closer and closer to where you wanted him. “There’s no one else I rather do this with.” Seungmin places one last kiss on your thigh before lowering it down and bringing his head closer towards the middle of your thighs.

“So pretty.” He whispered, then slowly brought two fingers up to your clit.

Then, you screamed.

Seungmin sat up quickly to look at you. He was used to you screaming when he was in between your legs, but this scream was different. It sounded like you were in pain.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, searching your face to try to figure out what happened.

Then, he saw it.

The way you were holding your belly, head thrown back, teeth grinding against each other.

“Fuck.” Seungmin exclaimed, scrabbling out of bed to find his sweatpants. “Fuck, where are my clothes?”

You had read the books with Seungmin, you had watched the videos. You thought you knew what was coming. But, you were never quite as prepared as your husband.

“Fuck, Seungmin, it hurts.” You cried, looking for something to grasp onto.

He had successfully found his pants, grabbing yours before he rushed back to your side.

Squatting by your head, Seungmin grabbed one of your hands and used his other hand to brush the hair that dropped in front of your face back. “Hey, hey, I’m right here. Breathe with me, okay?”

You shook your head. “I can’t. I can’t, Seungmin. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. I’ll count, okay?”

You squeezed his hand tightly, focusing on the sound of his voice and the way his breath felt against your neck. The contraction slowly faded out once he hit the twentys.

Seungmin kissed the side of your forehead. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispered. “Let me help you get dressed. It’s time to have a baby.”

///

Seungmin expected your labor to last longer. Within an hour of checking in and moving you into a room, your contractions grew in length and the time between shorten. You were pushing before you could even ask for an epidural.

Seungmin never left your side (not that he would even consider it). He held your hand with both hands, encouraging you to squeeze as hard as you needed to. He counted breaths with you, encouraged you, and kept you stable during the entire process.

A few minutes into pushing, in between contractions, you rolled your head to the left to look at him. Hair stuck to your face, tears stained your cheek, your lip was bleeding it from biting it so hard, and Seungmin swore you had never looked more beautiful in your entire life.

Taking a deep breath, you smiled weakly at your husband. “We’re having a baby.” You said, voice raspy from screaming.

Seungmin smiled back, squeezing your hand. “We’re having a baby.”

“I love you so much.” Fresh tears began to roll down your face. “You’re already the best husband, and now-and now-“ your face winced in pain as another contraction hit. Seungmin jumped back in to support mode, helping you ride it out.

A few contractions later, Seungmin heard it. His son.

The baby, bigger than Seungmin thought he would be, was placed on your chest. You let out a cry of both joy and relief, dropping Seungmin’s hand to hold your baby. Sobbing, you held the baby into your chest.

“You’re here. You’re here.” You whispered through your tears, rocking the small child back and forth.

They took your son away before Seungmin had a chance to hold him. It’s okay, he knew that the next steps after birth. He was prepared.

He was always prepared.

An hour and five stitches later, you were soundly sleeping in your hospital bed. You tried to stay awake, wanting to be up when they brought your son back. Seungmin swore he would wake you up and convinced you to nap until then. He spent the hour calling his parents, your parents, his friends - anyone he could get ahold of at two in the morning.

There was a soft knock on the door, and then a nurse let himself in. Seungmin stood up quickly, watching as the nurse rolled the baby’s bed up next to you.

“Congratulations, Mr. Kim.” The nurse whispered, and then excused himself from the room.

Once the nurse was out, Seungmin took off his shirt. He was prepared; he knew skin to skin contact was important for infants. 

He stood over his son and stared at him. He had a head full of thick, black hair and the cutest button nose Seungmin had ever seen. He couldn’t believe that he had a hand in creating something so wonderful, so perfect, so beautiful.

Careful as to not wake the baby, Seungmin picked him up and cradled him to his chest. “Hi, peanut.” He said, then placed a soft kiss right on his forehead. “I’m dad.”

Slowly, his son’s eyes opened and found his own.

Seungmin was always prepared.

But nothing - no books, no videos, no parenting classes - could ever prepare him for the love he felt when looking into his child’s eyes. In that moment, Seungmin was unprepared. He didn’t know what to expect. 

And it was the best feeling in the world.

Yang Jeongin

If Jeongin had to describe his son’s first day of kindergarten in one word, it would be: unfortunate. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong.

The morning started out fine; everyone woke up on a time and was in a good mood. You and Jeongin even woke up with enough time to slip into the shower together before waking up your son for the day. Typically, fucking you dumb first thing in the morning is the sign of a good day. He really had no idea that it was just downhill from there.

You decided to wake your son up since you had to slip out to work early. Time with him today was precious, and Jeongin knew you would be a ball of tears if you didn’t get one on one time. So he took breakfast duty, determined to make an omelet as good as you do.

He was doing well; the topping fit perfectly, he folded it beautifully. For his first time, he was excelling. Maybe he should take a picture and brag about it in his group chat. There’s no way Hyunjin can make an omelet like this-

“What’s burning?” 

Ah, fuck.

The omelet was too far gone, there was nothing he could do to save it. Scraping it, Jeongin decided to try his luck again, only to ruin it immediately. Whatever, sugary cereal is a great first day of school ever breakfast, right?

Your son certainly thinks so. When Jeongin places the bowl in front of him, the black haired boy smiles widely before shoveling the cinnamon cereal in his mouth.

“Slow down.” You say with a chuckle, placing a sliced apple on a plate next to his bowl. “You’re going to get sick.”

When he eats, you can tell he’s Jeongin’s son; cheeks puffed and full as he takes large bites. Round eyes look at you, silently pouting at your request. It’s too good to slow down. Besides, his father eats like this, why can’t he?

You look across the table at Jeongin, pointing at your son with your thumb. “This is your fault.”

He looked up from his breakfast, cheeks just as full and eyes just as large. A mirror image of his son, large bites and all. It makes you chuckle, even if you fear that they’re going to choke every time they eat.

Once breakfast is finished and the dishes are put away, it's time for you to go to work, and Jeongin to take your son to school. 

“Mommy, no-“ your son whines, squirming away as you try to fix his uniform. “Don’t wanna take a picture.”

“Please, bubba? Just one, and then you and papa can-“

“No!” He fusses, moving out of your grasp. Sadly, you drop your arms in defeat. You’re not going to force him to do something that makes him uncomfortable, no matter how upset it makes you.

You look at Jeongin, who was watching this unfold from the garage door. He saw the tears in your eyes - both from having to leave and the rejection. 

“It’s fine that you don’t want a picture, but can I at least have a hug?” You ask your son, not knowing if you can handle another no on a big day.

Luckily, your son crashed into your arms and hung tightly onto you. You kissed the top of his head, savoring his sweet hug before he complained about you squeezing him too tight.

Saying goodbye at the car was hard for you, lingering at his window for far too long to get one last look at him before school. Jeongin waited patiently until you stood to your full height. Your husband grabbed you, pulling you into a hug.

“It’s just school.” Jeongin whispered in your ear. “He’ll be back in a few hours.”

You nod your head, sniffling against his shoulder. “It’s just hard, ya know? He’s not a baby anymore.”

The last sentence made his heart sink, your emotions beginning to rub off on him. Quickly, he shoved the feeling to the back of his mind for both your sanity and his. “He’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

“Will you?”

A fantastic question, one that he wished he could answer, but was cut off by the impatient five year old in the backseat. You said goodbye one more time, fussing over the buttons on your son’s shirt before slipping in your car. Jeongin followed suit, leaving the garage right after you.

The goodbyes had set them back just a bit, but that was okay. The school was only a ten minute drive, and they still had plenty of time to-

“Papa?” His son chimed from the back. “I don’t have my backpack.”

Okay, so maybe they’ll be a little bit later than expected. Jeongin turned the car around, back home in less than a minute. The backpack was sitting by the garage door, making it easy to grab it and throw it in the passenger seat.

“Alright, all-“

“What about my foxy?”

Jeongin sighed, turning around in his seat to look at his son. “Foxy can’t come to school with you, Bubba. We talked about this-“

“But I need him.”

“Foxes don’t go to school. They stay at home where mama and papa can-“

“No! Need him!” His son cried, kicking the backseat. This wasn’t like him; typically the quietest, most mild mannered child, your son rarely threw fits. Jeongin knows it’s because of what today is, but he was determined to stand his ground. The fox was staying home-

-until he felt a shoe hit the back of his head as he tried to pull out of the garage for a second time that morning. Fine. The fucking fox can come.

Third time’s a charm, right? There were no hiccups this time as Jeongin left the house, Bubba happily humming in the backseat along with the music. Foxy was snug against his chest, a happy smile on his face. He might be missing a shoe, but hey, at least he’s happy.

And Jeongin can still make it on time. There shouldn’t be any more interruptions, now that his son is happy and he’s actually on the road. Everything should be smooth sailing from now on.

Of course there’s stand still traffic. Why wouldn’t there be?

Jeongin’s head hits the headrest, a groan leaving his lips as he rubs his face. This was not how today was supposed to go. First the omelet, then the picture, the backpack and the damn fox, and Jeongin’s pretty sure he has a headache from being hit with the shoe.

“Papa?”

“Hm?” He grunts into his hands.

“Why aren’t we moving?”

Sighing, Jeongin drops his hands, moving them back to the steering wheel. “Good question.” He mumbles mostly to himself.

For ten minutes, they stayed completely still, both slowly losing their patience. The Jeongin look-a-like was losing control faster than his father, kicking the back of his seat in protest. Like Jeongin could do anything about the traffic. 

Right as Jeongin was about to say fuck school and turn around, the car in front of him moved. Whatever had been holding them up was over, a steady stream of cars now flowing into the school’s parking lot.

Jeongin finds the first parking spot at the back of the lot, quickly getting out of the car. He picks his son up, sitting him on the roof and putting his shoe back on (much to his son’s protest). Once it was on, he narrowed his eyes at the boy.

“I need you to give me Foxy now.” He said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Fear flushed his face, tiny fist gripping onto the fox’s white fur. “No. He has to go to school too.”

“Bubba-“ But when his son started lifting his foot like he was about to kick, he realized the damn fox wasn’t worth it. Jeongin would much rather get chewed out by the teacher, and you, than take a tiny foot to the face at 8:00 am. “Fine. But you have to take a picture for mama.”

The bribe worked - the innocent smile he gave the camera in front of the school made Jeongin roll his eyes. They walked into the school hand and hand, Bubba hiding behind Jeongin’s leg as they closed in on his classroom. 

They stood in the line of parents, and before they could blink, it was their turn. Jeongin squatted down, eye level with his son, who was nervously holding onto his stuffed animal.

“Hey, Bubba.” Jeongin said softly, a hand reaching out to pat his head. “You okay?”

His son shook his head, burying his face in the fox. “I’m scared, Papa. Wanna go home-“

Jeongin felt his lip tremble as he looked at his son, who had been on his last damn nerve all morning. His sweet, nervous boy, who was acting out because of the newness of it all. His heart softened, and suddenly, his head stopped aching, every nerve easing. 

“I know.” He whispers, smoothing his son’s hair. “I’m scared, too. You’re so much braver than Papa, I couldn’t ever do this.” His eyes began to sting, pride filling his heart. When did his baby get so big? “Do you want me to walk you in?”

His son looked inside the classroom, wide eyes scanning the room. Slowly, he shook his head no before looking back at his father. “No, I do it.”

Jeongin nodded. “Hug?”

The fox lessened the blow of his son’s crash. Jeongin held tightly until his son squirmed free, his wide eyes no longer nervous.

“I love you, Papa.”

That’s when the first tear fell. “I love you, too, Bubba.”

He watched as his son sprinted into the classroom, making a beeline to the musical instruments in the corner of the room. Lingering for just a second, he watched his son turn to the little girl next to him, excitedly giving her his name before asking if she wanted to play with him.

Jeongin’s heart ached in the best way possible as forced himself to walk away, silently crying as he left his son behind. It was silly - he’s going to be back here in a few hours to pick him up. There’s no reason to be so-

His phone pinged, announcing a text from you. When he pulled out his phone, the picture taken just moments ago was still up. 

Everything went wrong today, so many hiccups in a day that should’ve been so easy. Yet, no matter how badly everything went, he wouldn’t trade a second of this day for anything. Even he can’t seem to stop crying.

©: chvnnie 2022

#stray kids fluff #skz fluff #straykidsland #stray kids suggestive #skz suggestive #stray kids angst #skz angst #bang chan fluff #chan fluff #lee minho fluff #lee know fluff #minho fluff #lee minho angst #lee know angst #minho angst #seo changbin fluff #changbin fluff #hwang hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fluff #han jisung fluff #han fluff #jisung fluff #lee felix fluff #felix fluff #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin fluff #kim seungmin smut #seungmin smut #yang jeongin fluff #jeongin fluff

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

pairing: chan x curvy/plussizedfem!reader (afab)

genre: idol!chan. curvy/plussized!reader. hurt/comfort. angst!! slight fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ ONLY. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. the angst is real and raw in this. reader deals with a lot of online hate for many different reasons (this includes things like: age discrimination, fat-ph0bia, and online bullying). territorial/protective chan. smut warnings below cut!!

word count: 6.7k

summary: against your boyfriend chan's wishes, you had made a twitter account after many years - and what a mistake that was. now, you're left with the aftermath of the damage, and chan is the only person who can pick up the broken pieces of you.

18+ warnings: unprotected sex (stay safe out there, guys!) but reader is on birth control. chan has a fixation for reader's tits lmao. fingering. someone gets a handjob... 👀 DIRTY talk. youngerdom!chan. oldersub!reader. making out. manhandling and slight size kink. praise kink. nipple/breast play. body worship. riding. excessive hair pulling/scratching. BREEDING KINK!!! pet names (babydoll, babygirl, kitten, etc.). daddy kink. multiple orgasms is alluded to. someone gets fucked on top of a table.

a/n: OKAAAY- firstly, I just wanna give a big shout out to my dear, sweet friend Belle (@cb97breathing) for being so kind as to request a chan oneshot, and inspiring me to write this dumpster fire of a fic lmao!! 😂 I told her that my requests have been closed since may, but since she's such a wonderful friend, I've made an exception this time around~ 🫣 anyways, hope you enjoy this lil piece babe... you'll have to lmk what you think ehehehehehe... 😈 I wrote this in a single sitting last night, so it might make like, no sense at all but I seriously don't give a flying fuck at this point, so enjoy!! 💀

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

Soon after the two of you had started dating, you had promised your boyfriend Chan that you would never go online to search for fans' comments about your relationship. Whether they were good or bad, he had made you promise him that you'd never read such things because it wasn't good for your health. 

And for the most part, you'd kept that promise to him. 

  For years, you had left social media alone. Avoid making any form of account to begin with, that way you wouldn't be tempted to read some of the shit that people said about you online. 

  You were a pretty strong woman and could withstand a lot of chaos. This had proven to be true after Chan announced your relationship, as some of the Stray Kids 'fans' hadn't taken to the news very well. Instead, they stormed the streets of his company, protesting against the relationship and making humungous threads online as they tried to expose you. 

  But lately, you could feel yourself slipping. 

  At first, it had just started with making a harmless Twitter account. You had wanted to follow your boyfriend's private one that the fans didn't know about. And for a little bit, everything was okay. He didn't know about your activity online, and you wanted to keep it that way. 

  It was one day though, when you were feeling especially shitty about yourself, that you happened to stumble upon some random Tweet. 

  The things that the anonymous person had said about you dug deep inside of you. Reached for your heart and squeezed it in an icy, vice-like grip. 

  Then, it wasn't too long before you found yourself on the wrong side of social media. 

  The one that was full of darkness and hatred and violence. 

  And everything that you saw was always about you and Chan. But mostly, the sick people focused on you. 

  Nitpicking everything about you. 

  Your personality, 

  Your words, 

  The worst things they talked about were linked to your body and age. 

  Sure, you were on the curvier side of things. But Chan had always made it crystal clear from day one that he found you absolutely beautiful. The first time the two of you had met at that random club in Seoul all those years ago, back when Stray Kids was newly debuted, he had told you how stunning you were - inside and out - and he had only talked to you for an hour at that point. 

  These people who hid behind their screens online liked to point out your age, too. About how you were a few years older than Chan. They called you all sorts of things and claimed that you were a golddigger for getting with someone so famous. 

  Chan had never mentioned your age gap before. He treated you like you were his peer and not someone who had quite a few years over him. Because that's the kind of man he was - he didn't care what you looked like or how old you were. All he cared about was you... and what you were like on the inside. So all of the frivolous things that other guys worried about were cast to the sidelines, as he only ever focused on your inner spirit. 

  Obviously, your boyfriend was a rarity. 

  Even still though, you could feel your self-esteem tanking with each comment that you read. Each thread, each video. They only unraveled you a little bit more with every day that passed. And you knew that they truly weren't fans. Because people who loved Chan would never hurt him and you the way some of them were doing. 

  But that didn't change the fact that it really fucking hurt. 

  You knew that you shouldn't have made the Twitter account. But now that you were on it? Now that you were constantly checking what others were saying about you? You couldn't seem to stop. 

  Like a drug that was slowly overtaking your system, you couldn't get enough of it all. 

  The hate, 

  The shame, 

  The ridicule. 

  It spread throughout your veins, making you feel exhausted and angry, and heartbroken. 

  But of course, your boyfriend could never know of such things. Sure, he checked social media to see what fans were saying, but he didn't have that much time to hang around and catch the shitty side of things. 

  No, you had promised him you'd never go on social media, so you intended to keep everything a secret. He had warmed you away from it all early on since he knew how horrible people could be online. 

  And to be honest, you felt a little ashamed, too. To become so affected by the abhorrence that you were losing sleep over it. That you were losing your appetite, too. You could feel your motivation tanking as your brain replayed countless things that people were saying about you. 

  So there you were, snuggled under a fuzzy blanket and tucked in the corner of the large, black leather couch that was in your boyfriend's studio. It was late on a weekend night, and he had called you over to the company to hang out with him while he worked. 

  Although, you weren't really focusing on him after a while. Instead, you were scrolling through Twitter in silence, taking in the newest things that random people were saying about you.

  User 570 - "nah that fatass could neverrr bag such a hot guy like chan, she totally seduced him or some shit."

  User 194 - "I heard that he's into like, a mommy kink and that's why he fell for her while he was still so young... didn't they start dating when skz was still newly debuted??" 

  User 006 - "bro don't get me STARTED- this dumb bitch is over here thinking that he genuinely loves her... gurl, he's probably cheating on you with one of the itzy members hahaha" 

  User 288 - "Not her thinking she actually had a fighting fucking chance with our chan-"

You were pulled from the comments by the sound of a voice talking. You looked up to see that your boyfriend was turned around in his desk chair, muscular arms folded over his chest as he stared at you. 

  "Y/N." 

  The way he was calling your name, so seriously and without any hint of playfulness, sent a ripple of unease to course down your spine. 

  "Y-Yes?" You asked, gently placing your phone face-first down on the couch beside you, that way he couldn't see what you had been looking at. 

  "Did you even hear what I was saying?" He rose a dark, perfectly-manicured eyebrow your way. For Stray Kids newest comeback, he had dyed his hair platinum blonde again. He did it in part because his stylists had said he'd look good with bringing it back. But mostly, you knew that he had done it for you, since him being a blonde had always been one of your biggest weaknesses. 

  "Oh- no, sorry, I was kinda distracted..." You mumbled, fingers playing with the blanket around your waist, palms digging into the soft fabric as you felt your heart beat against your ribcage.

  Chan threw you a deep frown before he placed his headphones down on his desk. He had been busy producing for the past two hours, and with a glance at the clock just above his head, you read that it was well past midnight. The company was quiet, signaling that everyone had gone home for the night. 

  Everyone except you and Chan, at least. 

  "I was asking if you wanna get takeout," Chan began, running a hand through his blonde locks and messing it up even more. "I'm pretty sure that fried chicken place just down the road is open 24/7, so we could get that if you'd like." 

  You felt yourself shaking your head. Because honestly, soon after reading the comments from that night, you had lost all form of an appetite. "I'm not hungry right now. But you can get something if you'd like, babe... do whatever you want." 

  Without saying another word, you picked up your phone again. And already, you were getting lost in a sea of new posts and comments that had appeared while you were distracted. 

  "Baby." Chan's voice came out softer than before, but it still didn't pull your attention away from the darkness that was seemingly at the edges of your fingertips. "Baby- listen to me." 

  That got your attention. Automatically, you were lifting your head again, blood thrumming in your ears as you watched the swarthy look cross over your boyfriend's face. 

  "What's going on with you lately?" He said, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows atop his knees, showcasing his bare forearms. If you were in a different headspace, you'd be turned on by the sight of him like that - light hair all disheveled, and loose-fitting black t-shirt beautifully showcasing his muscular arms. "You've been acting different these days, and it's making me worry."

  You tried to flash him your best reassuring smile, but you got the feeling that it looked a little more like a painful grimace than anything else. Because the only thing that was worse than all of the hatred was his finding out. No, you wanted to keep all of it away from him. Hide it inside yourself, that way only you'd be the one affected by the shadows. 

  "I'm fine, Chan. Don't worry, nothing's going on..." Your voice trailed off, as you caught his intense stare. Then his eyes were roving over your form, before stopping at your phone that was clutched in your hands, held close to your chest. You could feel the crimson blooming in your cheeks as he began to take notice of your secrecy regarding the device. 

  He was rising from his chair then, nearing you slowly. If he moved too fast, he'd scare you away irrevocably and there would be no comeback for him whatsoever. "What's got you so distracted, hmm?" His question came out hushed as if only you were meant to hear it. 

  The anxiety danced in the pit of your stomach, as anxious butterflies flitted around your system from his approaching nearness. "Oh, uhm- just a friend from... high school." 

  "Oh yeah? What's her name?" 

  "Uh- Vanessa." 

  "What're you guys talking about so late at night?" 

  You shifted uncomfortably in your position, limbs turning a little shaky at his closeness. If you reached out, you'd be able to touch him. "Just... girl stuff." 

  Chan laughed at that, but it held no humor. No mirth whatsoever. Instead, it was dry and sardonic and left a hole to begin widening in your heart. 

 He knew, 

 He knew,

 He- 

"Lemme see." 

  You knew it had been coming as soon as he had started grilling you about your phone. Even still, the two little words forced your eyes to widen frantically. Heart pushing against your ribcage in anxiety, you held on a little tighter to your phone. 

  "I don't really know if-"

  "Give me the damn phone, Y/N," Chan said, his voice a little more raised than before. The firm line of his lips pressed together and his eyes that were dancing with a myriad of feelings told you everything you needed to know. His hand was already outstretched, as he waited for your next move. "I won't ask again." 

  And you knew he wouldn't. 

  Because if you didn't comply, he'd force it out of your hand. 

  Chan was a gentle man, with a beautiful soul and a love for humanity. But if there ever was a threat to the people he loved, if he ever held any sort of suspicion that something was amiss, he wouldn't hesitate to take the reins. 

  And that usually meant it came out in the form of anger - of pure, unadulterated rage, as he battled against whatever force was hurting his loved ones. 

  So just like that, you were raising the white flag. You were admitting defeat, as you slowly placed the phone in his open hand. 

  Holding your breath, you leaned back against the couch, waiting, and watching. 

  At first, nothing happened. 

  He stared at the phone in silence, eyes scanning the bright screen. 

 But then, everything changed. 

  In an instant, his face was morphing into something dim and... scary. Eyes turning to slits as he read the obscene things that were right there on your phone, strong jaw ticking as he stood there. You saw the way his hand gripped on a little harder to the phone, knuckles turning white with his barely masked anger quickly rising to the surface. 

  You didn't realize you were crying until it was too late and the first sob was flooding from your mouth. Pathetically, a small whimper escaped from deep inside of you as your heart raced in your chest from the way your boyfriend's entire persona was morphing into a man who was beyond furious. He was probably seeing red at this point. 

 "Please- Chan, d-don't be angry with me!" You suddenly burst out in a tiny wail. Your desperate voice seemed to shake him from the laser focus that he had on your phone's screen. It yanked his eyes away from it and soon he was staring back at you. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" 

  You had no time to react then, as he was throwing your phone aside haphazardly and dropping to his knees on the floor. In the next breath, he was upon you, reaching out with those strong arms of his and pulling you into him. 

  Like two puzzle pieces that were made to fit together, you melted against him. He wrapped his arms around your body, holding your shaking form close as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, the sobs racking through you. Your heart was beating so fast, you were afraid you were about to drop dead right at that moment. 

  But your boyfriend's hold on you saved you. Grounded you, forced you to take deep breaths slowly but surely. Relaxed your muscles until you were feeling a little light-headed from all of the exhaustion and pain. The entire time, Chan remained quiet, merely carding gentle fingers through your hair as he soothed your aching spirit.

  And when the tears finally subsided, you were pulling away from his form, peering up at him with pink-flushed cheeks and bleary eyes. "A-Are you mad at me?" 

  Chan stared down at you, taking in a deep breath before he was speaking for the first time in a while. His voice was gruff, but not as stony as it had been earlier. "Why would I ever get mad at you for the shit that psychos say online?" He reached up towards you, tucking a few strands of your messy hair behind your ear. "I mean, yeah, I'm disappointed that you got a Twitter in the first place, but I'm even more disappointed in the fact that you didn't tell me about any of this."

  You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes again at the mention of his disappointment in you. You hated the feeling that you had let him down. It tore through you like a painful slash, the icy blade digging into your soul and ripping open a cacophony of emotion. "I-I'm so sorry babe... I... I didn't want to worry you. I just... thought I could handle it on my own." 

  Your boyfriend fit a few fingers underneath your chin, tipping your head up so that you met his gaze again. "Babygirl, this isn't something you can handle on your own. You're not supposed to have such a heavy burden on your shoulders- no one is supposed to. But because we live in such a shitty world, things like this happen." His thumb moved up your face, as he gently swiped at your bottom lip. The gesture eased your racing mind, slowly calming your heart as you came down from the intensity of it all. "I'm just glad that I know about it now so that I can help you." 

  You went silent after that, searching his face as he looked on at you with soft fondness. The anger had completely dissolved out of him as soon as he had seen your tears. Because that's the kind of man he was. When things got emotional, all rage he once felt was left to the wayside so that he could help you through the pain.

  "Y-You have to know, that none of it is true, babe," you started, stuttering over your words from the dryness in your throat. "I... I didn't start dating you because I'm a gold digger or that I have a thing for younger guys and I-"

  Chan brushed his thumb across the corner of your lips again, offering you a soft, easy smile. "Honey, you don't have to explain yourself to me. I know full well that all that bullshit is completely groundless." You two had separated and he was back in his chair, with it rolled so close to you that your knees touched. Chan reached out with his free hand, grabbing yours and squeezing your palms together. "I fell in love with you at first sight because I saw what a genuinely beautiful human being you were. And I've continued to fall in love with you every single day since then. Your age- your size, none of it matters to me. You know I don't care about those stupid things... all I care about is you." 

  You roughly scrubbed at your eyes, willing the tears away so that you could get a clearer look at his face. "Y-Yeah, I know... it's just, it's hard not to believe the things they say, you know?" You gave him a weak, humorless smile. 

  "That's the exact reason why I didn't want you going on social media... I wanted to protect you," he began, raising your clasped hands to his mouth and pressing a few gentle kisses against your knuckles. "I love you so much and only want the very best for you. And I always want you to be safe, yeah? I'm not gonna let anyone - online or in real life - hurt you like that again. I promise." 

  This time, the grin you gave him was genuine and warm. "I love you too, Chan..." You whispered, as you leaned into him and gave his cheek a light peck. "So much. And I'd do anything for you - fight anyone to keep you okay." 

  "That's my sweet girl," Chan's praise forced the peachy-pink tinge to creep up the column of your neck, pooling in your cheeks and rising to the tips of your ears. "Now come over here and sit down, I wanna show you some of the stuff I've been working on." He pat his lap, and you felt your heart leap in your chest. 

  He was trying to distract you. He was trying to pull your mind away from the contempt and all of the turmoil that he knew was still brewing deep inside your mind. 

  So you let him. 

  You let him pull your mind away to softer, quieter things. 

  And soon, you were situated in his lap with the fuzzy blanket wrapped around your shoulders. With your spine pressed into his firm stomach, you watched him type away at his computer as he pulled up a sample. 

  "This is something I want to put on our new album... I think it'd suit Changbin's voice fucking well." He mused off, as he began to play an expert of the song. It was fast-paced and upbeat, with a subtle hip-hop vibe to it. 

  You slightly turned to the side, offering him a faint smile, "I really like it, babe... feels like a great song to play in a concert." 

  "I know right? I haven't shown the guys it yet, but I have a feeling that they're gonna love it." 

  Giggling softly, you turned around so that you were facing him. He titled his head up to meet your regard, and you reached out, carding a few fingers through his blonde locks. 

  "You're so cute when you're excited about music," you muttered, tilting forward to give his forehead a gentle kiss. And when you pulled away, you flashed him a tiny smirk. "Hot, too. Like, really fucking hot. Makes me so jealous when I watch those producing vlogs you make and I see all of the fangirls going batshit crazy over you." 

  You had never confessed to watching some of his vlogs, since you didn't want him to think that you were stalking his content. But automatically, you could see the switch flip inside your boyfriend's mind. 

  Instantly, he was mirroring your smirk. Sparkly white teeth pulled taut against his lips as he peered on at you with a suggestive light dancing in his eyes. "Oh really? Well, just wait until you hear this next track..." 

 He pressed a few things on his keyboard, and soon, a song with a deep bass was booming out of the studio's speakers. The sensual r&b feel of it vibrated around the room, wrapping around the two of you and causing something heated to stir in the pit of your stomach. It was quite dark in the studio, with the only light atop his desk casting a faint glow across Chan’s smooth, tan skin. 

  "I think I like this one even more."

  Chan's gaze was still locked with yours, as you felt his hands move away from the keyboard, instead resting on either side of your hips. "Good, because I made it for you- for us." 

  Brows furrowed in confusion, your heart skipped a beat at the admission. He had made songs for you in the past, but nothing quite so... alluring. "What do you-"

  He cut you off by his fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts, making you squeak out in surprise. "Made it one night when I was pumping myself dry to that picture of you- you know the one... black lingerie, in front of our bedroom's full-length mirror..." He ground out in a raspy voice, leaning up into you and nuzzling the tip of his nose into the exposed skin of your neck. He took in a shuddering, deep breath, and as you restlessly shifted against his lap, you could feel the growing hardness there, hidden just underneath his black sweatpants. "Imagined what it'd be like to fuck you to it... have you screaming my name as you ride my cock so perfectly- the way you always do. Was inspired by the thought of you taking me so well that you can’t talk anymore, that you go fucking mute and all wobbly-legged as I fuck that tight, little cunt of yours wide open with my cock." 

  "C-Chan, I..." But you were cut off once again, this time by his head moving downwards, as he pulled the neck of your oversized tee down so that your clavicle was exposed to the cool studio air. 

  Then his teeth were grazing over your skin, biting down softly, tongue swiping and soothing, and you already knew that violet and crimson would bloom from that exact spot when he was finished. 

  "You'd like that, huh?" His low voice rumbled against your skin, shooting freezing shivers up the entirety of your spine. "Like me to fuck you right here while this music is playing on in the background." 

  And the words were already leaving your brain, surging out of your mind as the fire began to blaze in your core. It made everything around you deep red, as you honed in on your boyfriend at that moment, and how he looked up at you with a sardonic kind of smirk. 

  You nodded quickly. Desperately. "Holy shit, yes- yes, please... I... need you to fuck me right now." Without even realizing it, you were grinding against him. In your heated frenzy, you hadn't even registered the fact that you were moving back and forth on his clothed lap. 

  Chan reached up then, running a few of his slim fingers through your hair, before he was grabbing onto your locks, pulling back slightly so that your neck was more exposed than ever before. "Such a good girl..." His lilting tone praising you so well made you squirm in your spot, your legs positioned on either side of his waist. "But you know what good girls do, right? They... ask nicely." He said the last of his words in a quiet whisper, his tongue lapping at your sensitive clavicle once more, sucking and kissing the expanse of skin there. 

  Then he yanked a little harder at your hair, forcing your eyes open in shock. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, as you subtly registered the sound of that new r&b track he had made repeating on itself. He had set it to that, already knowing how the night would turn out. 

  That devious little minx. 

"Please-" You breathed out, whimpering softly at the feel of his hardness hitting that one spot between your legs. "Daddy, please... want... want you to fuck me right now. Need it so bad, I-I can't breathe I need you so much, Daddy." 

  Chan was silent for a moment, and just as you were about to whine for him all over again, he was moving. Fingers grabbing onto the hemline of your shirt and slowly lifting it up your torso. "Well... I guess, since you're being so good tonight, I have no choice but to give in to you." He said in a low tone. 

  His fingertips grazed against your stomach as he made his way up your arms with your shirt, teasing you silently. You cried out at the feeling of him being so close to you, yet he wasn't even doing that much. He hadn't even started yet. 

  Once your shirt was off and cast to the side, he made quick work of your bralette, and soon, that was forgotten too. Chan pulled away from you to admire your topless form for a few seconds, shaking his head from side to side in approval and smiling like a maniac. 

  "Always loved your tits so fucking much," he purred, face nuzzling into the middle of your chest just as one of his hands came around one of your mounds, squeezing slightly. "Whenever I see them like this, it makes me wanna suck on them for days- fuck it, months." 

  Then his head was moving to the side, as he pressed fervent kiss after fervent kiss to your exposed breast. You clutched on tight to his blonde locks as soon as his mouth hovered over your hardened peak. His breath was hot against your gooseflesh, making you shake with unchecked want. 

  "I'd let you too," you sighed just as his tongue poked out between his mouth and came in contact with your bare skin. "If I could live the rest of my days with your face buried in my tits, I probably would do it in a heartbeat..." You felt yourself beginning to slip off the cliffside in that moment, as his teeth grazed your nub, sharp canines sinking into your skin while his hot mouth fit around your cleavage perfectly. 

  "Fuck- pretty sure you're gonna be the death of me, baby doll," his mutter jolted across your flesh, sending flashes of white-hot bliss to dance through your veins. His head was moving after that, focusing on your other tit while his hand played with the one he had just had his attention on. 

  Expert fingers pulled and tugged, twisting and soothing. You felt the warmth rising into your cheeks, and as you closed your eyes, you swore you saw little stars dance across your vision from the way that his head was buried so well between your cleavage. 

  "D-Daddy, I can't-" You were suddenly begging, hands wrapping around his locks and pushing his face closer to your skin. 

  He was drawing away from you at that, lips wet and a little puffy from the abuse that he was giving to your tits alone. Dragging a finger across the line of your jaw, he played with your bottom lip for what felt like the millionth time that day, all the while flashing you one of those smirks.  

  The one he only used when he was especially turned on. 

  "I know baby girl, I know..." He gave you a teasing pout, just before he was tipping into your form and his lips were nearing yours. "You want Daddy to make it all better, yeah? Want me to use my cock on you now?" His mouth fit around yours, his tongue dipping between your teeth and tasting you. 

  You moaned into him, loving the way he met your grinding midway. The two of you were moving in perfect sync to the music softly playing from the speakers. And as his tongue lapped at yours, you could faintly sense one of his hands leaving your hip, traveling to the waistline of your shorts and sliding down the front of them. 

  Chan swallowed whole the shuddered gasp that fled from deep inside of you as you felt his fingers toy with you, running along the line of your panties before he was dipping in. Then you were turned into a shaking mess of limbs and whines, as he slipped his hand close to your throbbing core, thumb circling your sensitive bud, pressing into it and drawing senseless figures while another one of his long fingers toyed with your entrance. 

  His lips moved away from yours, a string of saliva following in the wake of your separation. Slowly, his mouth came over the shell of one of your ears, teeth gently grazing your lobe as he said in that dark voice of his, "Hmm- already so nice and wet for me... you're gonna take me real easy tonight, yeah, dollface?" 

  Your head was bobbing up and down in silent agreement, a string of breathless cries flooding from your lips at the feeling of two of his fingers sinking into your essence. You moved around his hand, swiveling your hips in a rhythm that matched the beat of the sensual song playing in the background.

  Yanking a little harder at his bleached roots, you forced him to peer up at you. Catching the way his eyes were hooded and the shadows of the room danced across the sharpness of his cheekbones and nose, you could take a pretty good guess as to how close he was too. And he wasn't even inside you yet. 

"N-No more teasing, Daddy... please." You knew he loved all of the begging. He admitted to such a thing early on at the start of your relationship. If there was one thing you could get away with in bed, it was begging. Do a little light groveling for him and his cock, and he was all yours. 

  In the next beat, he was ripping his hand away from your soaking core, hands making quick work of his sweatpants and boxers. Soon, his shirt was off too, showcasing his toned abs and biceps. Once he was finished shucking off his pants, he turned his focus back on you, lifting a suggestive eyebrow your way. 

  "Go on, kitten- stroke it." He motioned with a single tilt of his head downwards, and your eyes followed his gesture until you came in contact with him. All throbbing seven and a half inches of him, tip already puffed red and leaking out precum. 

  You gulped around the lump steadily forming in your throat, your lips already parting in silent want as your eyes traced the long vein that ran up the length of him. He was utter perfection and a sight to truly behold. His half-naked form always left you breathless, no matter how many times you had seen him. 

  Without another word spoken between the two of you, you reached forward, hands coming around his rigidness. Instantly, upon contact, he threw his head back against his chair, moaning out in that husky voice of his. 

  Slowly, you began to stroke up and down, pulling and squeezing only slightly. You could feel him practically swelling underneath your fingertips, as he neared his release. And just when you thought he couldn't take any more of it, your boyfriend was clawing at your bare hips, guiding your body so that your entrance was sitting just above his cock.

  "Fuck- I love your body so much," he growled, as he helped you get into position. And as you began to sink down onto him, his eyes tore open and met your gaze. The emotion you found there - of pure love and adoration - did something funny to your stomach. Cast butterflies across your entire system, making you feel all floaty inside. "Love every inch of you- every curve, every dip, every dimple." 

  As the words fell from his lips, you were beginning to move against him, hips making languid circles, pushing back and forth to feel the tip of him hit that spot deep inside of you. Chan worked against you, thrusting up between your folds and steadily helping to build the rising release inside of you. 

  "Yeah- just like that," he groaned out, face flushed a dark red colour from the way you fit around him so perfectly. The wet sounds of the two of you moving together in tandem cast a whole new form of lewdness over the track that was playing in the very background. Made everything so much more hotter. "Taking me so well- this pussy was fucking made for me." 

  You clawed desperately at his shoulders, nails raking down his proud, muscular back. He met each one of your movements by plunging so far into you, you could feel your insides melting from how badly your orgasm was approaching. 

  "You feel so good, holy shit, I-" You began to say but froze up from the feeling of Chan moving the two of you again. And soon, he was frantically pushing aside the things on his desk that was just behind you, shoving his keyboard aside as he grabbed onto your hips and hoisting you up onto the lacquered wood. 

  You had no time to catch your breath then, as he was wrapping your legs around his torso and beginning to plunge into you on a whole different level. Before, riding him had been languid and sensual. But this new position was ravenous and wild.

  And as his cock reached all new places inside of you, you faintly sensed the feeling of a thumb pressing against your bundle of nerves, rubbing incessantly there to drive you closer to the edge. 

  "You said you were jealous of the Stays that fangirled over my producing form, right?" He ground out, pounding into you so irrevocably hard that you could do nothing but hold on for dear life. Nails digging into the muscles of his shoulders, you bounced against him with each push and pull. "But you know that there's no one else for me, kitten. You're still my favourite girl." 

  That had you crying out in white-hot bliss, as he fucked into you a little rougher, thumb rubbing at your clit a little faster. Your hips moved on their own accord, meeting his rocking halfway and driving you so close to the cliffside of orgasm.

  Your boyfriend bent down towards you then, tongue tracing the line of your lips as he gave you a feverish kiss. "Want you to say it, yeah? Tell me that you know." The tip of him hit into that gooey spot with every other breath that you took, and it was hard to even focus on what he was asking of you. 

  Even still, you managed to control your bearings. Over the curses and cries that had been flowing from your lips unbidden for the last half hour, you spoke up. "I-I'm still your favourite girl." You said in a desperate plea, head tipping back in pure ecstasy and eyes rolling into the back of your skull from how good he was making you feel. 

  "Say it again." 

  Another couple of frantic pumps. 

  "I'm still your favourite girl." 

  "Again!" 

  At this point, he was ordering loudly in that gravelly voice of his, one hand digging into your hip so tightly, you were sure you'd see bruises there the next day. Meanwhile, the other was busy between your legs, working you up to a total and complete frenzy while his cock fucked you right open. 

  "I'm still your favourite girl!" You screamed out in a strangled moan, your quickly-approaching orgasm making everything cast in a film of red haziness and confusion. 

  "Good..." Your boyfriend praised, stroking into you with sloppy movements as he approached his high. "Such a good girl for me... my special, pretty girl." He was buried so deep you could feel him turn completely rigid as he finally approached release. "Now come for me, baby doll..." 

  And that was all you needed to hear. 

  Instantly, you let yourself go, riding the wave of pure, cosmic euphoria. 

  It shook you to your entire core, making your limbs jelly-like and boneless. 

  It blew galaxies across your screwed-shut eyes, forcing out moan after countless moan as you allowed the orgasm to course through your veins in fiery red heat. 

  And the singlemost part that sent you over the edge completely was the feeling of Chan finding his release too - the explosion of whiteness coating your very walls. 

  Everything was so warm- 

  Your cheeks, 

  Your heart, 

  Your limbs, 

  Your pussy. 

  It felt like you had been dipped into a vat of eternal fire, and your boyfriend was the tinder to the match. 

Chan was a groaning mess above you, thrusts turning sloppy and shallow as he rode out his high. And when you were both finished, he didn't pull out quite yet. 

  You cracked your eyes open to catch a glimpse of him gazing down between the two of you, eyes still filled with so much lust and love. 

  "What?" You asked hesitantly, shifting in your spot on the edge of the wooden desk. "Did I do something wrong or-" 

  Chan's eyes flicked up to you then, and they softened exponentially. "No- no. I was just admiring this sight... your pussy so full of my cum. Almost makes me want to fuck it back into you right here and now..." He let his voice trail off in a light tone. 

  You knew how much he loved to breed you. He did it almost every single night. And you loved it too- playing with such a taboo and 'dirty' thing, even though you knew you were on birth control. 

  He wasn't the only one who got a high from it all.

  So you opened your legs up a little more for him, already feeling the stiffness of him coming back, his tip nudging that warm spot deep inside of you. 

  "Well?" You wiggled your hips a little bit, just taunting him for good measure. You flashed him your best smirk, the one he always gave you. "What're you waiting for, Daddy?" 

  The toothy grin that spread across his mouth then made your head skip a beat. Made the butterflies burst against your stomach and float up into your bloodstream. 

  "Have I ever told you how much I fucking love you?" He mused, lips coming close to hover over yours again. 

  You shrugged nonchalantly, like the position the two of you were in was anything but risky and sensual. "You could stand to mention it a few more times." 

  Then, just as he was tilting back in to give you another breathtaking kiss, he was muttering in that rumbly voice of his that he knew drove you crazy. "Well then- I fucking love you." 

  And just like that, you were turned into a giggling little schoolgirl, fangirling over her school crush. All the while, Chan began to shift against you again, hardening cock beginning to fuck his seed right back into your aching cunt. 

  It was enough to make you forget about everything, 

  The hate, 

  The heartbreak, 

  And all of the anxiety. 

  It didn't matter if the respite would only last for a little while - only for a single night. 

  Because if Chan's version of 'soothing your worries away' entailed his cock being buried deep inside of you for hours at a time, you weren't going to complain. 

  Nope, not one bit. 

Fin.

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[evansbby]

GIRLIE GIRLIE GIRLIE LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN. I HAVE AN IDEA FOR A REQUEST.

[Its also 03:57AM and I’m crying my eyes out, so I might regret this when I woke up lolllll]

Hear me out, hear me out, hear me out. See the visionnnnn. So, this is my request:

Sugar daddy!Ari AU. This is a little after the reader becomes his girlfriend. The reader hasn’t really gotten it into her head that she’s not just his sugar baby, but she’s his love, so she tends to hide her feelings and pain and raw emotions from him because she wants to sort of keep up the image of her being his sexy personal nymphomaniac because she thinks he’ll leave if she’s real with him.

So let’s say, something happened. Maybe an argument with her terrible family or her shitty friends gossip about her or she’s burnt out from taking care of others or someone shames her for something, idk, you’re the author, you decide what happens, but anyways.

Something happens that made her extremely sad and miserable, but she’s trying to hide her feelings from Ari, she pretends everything is fine (it’s not lol), she’s acting a little weird cos she’s trying to keep up appearances so that he won’t dismiss and discard her, etc. But Ari, being her daddy and the smart motherfucker he is, knows that something is wrong with his precious girl.

So basically, shit goes down with her and Ari and he soft doms her (maybe a little hard dom too) and comforts her and reassures her that she’s his girl and not just a plaything and all that lovey dovey shit. Oh, and aftercare lol! Only if you want to.

This probably could’ve been said in fewer words, but I’m crying my eyes out and it’s a little cathartic to type this out lol, sorryyyy. Thank youuuu! Love your writing!

Oh I would love to read this 😭😭😭

But you see I’m insane so I need to make it more sad so if I were to write this…

I’d make it so that reader is very insecure and she thinks she’s not good enough to be Ari’s girlfriend (kind of along the lines of what you said) and she thinks she’s only good enough for sex bc she has zero feelings of self worth 🤧🤧🤧 and no matter what Ari says or does to reassure her and uplift her, she just doesn’t believe him😔😔

And she keeps pushing herself away from him, bc she thinks he deserves better bc he’s such a nice guy and it’s not a normal sugar daddy relationship bc Ari doesn’t even expect sex from her (although they do have great amazing perfect sex) but Ari just loves talking to her all night, getting to know her interests, buying her special gifts that match her interests… And reader is overwhelmed bc she’s sooo insecure and she thinks she doesn’t deserve this happiness. She’s scared of letting herself be happy in case Ari “wakes up” one day and realises he can do better and leaves her🥲 (he wouldn’t but she thinks he will).

So then one day she gets so overwhelmed that she breaks up with him impulsively. But we all know what a strong mature wise perfect daddy Ari is, so he’d be like “let’s talk this out” and she bursts into tears and tells him that he deserves better and that she’s broken and she needs to go away so he can start living his life instead of always worrying about her 🥲🥲🥲 and Ari tells her that he’s in love with her and he couldn’t live without her and then they have sex 🥺🥺🥺 where Ari is being a soft dom and sooo perfect and sexy and reader needed this bc she needs him to tell her what to do so she can relax and stop worrying. Her mind never turns off during the day and she’s wracked with insecurities and fear, but with Ari… he lets her mind go blank so she doesn’t need to think, and she feels okay.

But then she’s up all night and Ari is asleep and she watches him and all her insecurities come back and she thinks that he deserves better and he can’t spend his whole life with her as a burden just bc she’s so insecure all the time 🥲🥲

So she leaves… without a note or a phone call or anything. In fact, she moves far away to live with a distant relative and deletes her social media. Ari calls her and texts her every single day, begging her to pick up or come back etc and she changes her phone number 🥲🥲🥲 some of her friends tell her that Ari is miserable and he’s still looking for her and waiting for her but she hopes he will move on soon.

Anyways then reader starts working on herself, she gets a job in an industry she likes and she makes some new friends. She starts seeing a therapist and slowly, bit by bit, her confidence starts to grow. She realises she deserves love as much as anyone else does. And she misses Ari so much bc he really was the love of her life 🥹🥹 it’s been a whole year now and one day she decides she wants to see him again. She wants to try again and hopefully he’d be open to getting back together with her.

She shows up at his door with Chinese takeaway (their favourite meal they’d have together) and Ari answers the door and he’s shocked to see her. And she says she thinks she’s all whole again, she thinks she’s fixed and she’d like to give it a try with him once more. And she got food 🍲

But then she looks beyond his shoulder and sees another girl. And Chinese takeaway already on the table. He’s moved on. She’s heartbroken. But she smiles and tells him she’s happy for him. He tries to stop her but she leaves.

THE END 😭😭😭😭

#HELPPPP #anon

[nickfowlerrr]

To your dark!bucky biker au

How would he be when he notices that she got her period and isn’t feeling well?

just trying to help

pretty when you cry - series masterlist

pairing: pwyc!bucky x curvy!reader (dark!soulmate au)

warnings: 18+ ONLY. mentions of menstrual cycle and PMSing. emotional reader. allusion to future smut. mentions of anxiety. slight mention of ptsd(kinda?). smut (clitoral stimulation, f orgasm only sorry bucky). if i’m missing anything pls let me know!

words: 3.9k

notes: loved this - thank you for this ask and to the other anon who sent in a similar message! hope you all enjoy 💗 i’m the biggest crybaby when i’m on my cycle and i’m currently pmsing so i was definitely projecting here lol but anyway i enjoyed writing for these two again! 🥰 i have a couple other requests sitting in my inbox that i’m working on so we’ll see those soon, too!

You were lying curled up on the bed, most of the day already gone, spent sleeping, cramping, and scrolling through social media every now and again. Currently you were debating on whether you wanted to get up and finally grab some food or trudge yourself to the couch downstairs to watch your favorite comfort movie. Bucky had refused to let you put a television in the bedroom and you cursed him again as you begrudgingly pushed yourself up. Either way, you’d have to go downstairs. You huffed and grabbed the throw blanket, wrapping it around yourself as you made your way to the kitchen.

Yesterday was the first day of your cycle and though you weren’t feeling as shitty today, you still weren’t feeling well. The cramps were coming and going and your body was achy. All you wanted to do was curl up into a ball, eat your favorite junk food, and watch your favorite movie. And, if you were being entirely honest, a part of you really wanted Bucky to get home so he could hold you close and cuddle you. You rolled your eyes at yourself for that thought, though.

Bucky was usually the more obvious needy and clingy when you were together, and though you’d never say it aloud, you found comfort in him always wanting to be wrapped around you. You kind of liked not having to ask him to do so, he was just always close, as close as you’d let him be. Like he couldn’t get enough of you near him. He was like your own personal compression blanket at times. And you really wanted him right now.

You started tearing up out of nowhere as you thought about him while you prepared your brownie in a mug. The brownie certainly wasn’t the heartiest option but even just the smell of it was comforting and you needed whatever comfort you could get. You were tired despite having done nothing all day. You were emotional and on your period and you just couldn’t have cared to make something filling, you just wanted something chocolatey and warm... Warm like Bucky always was. Like the way he made you feel, and how you felt when he would hold you..

“Ugh. Stupid hormones,” you said bitterly under your breath to yourself.

“Stupid Bucky,” you muttered.

“Stupid me,” your voice bubbled as it softly broke and you started to cry.

As if on cue, the front door opened and Bucky was home. He called out for you but you didn’t respond. He found you in the kitchen watching the microwave as you wiped your tears away, your back to him. Though you wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in his arms, you were still upset at him.

He had been gone all day yesterday, taking care of some “business” in the city, whatever the hell that entailed, and he didn’t get home until way after you were asleep. You didn’t see him at all the entire day, and you were already feeling like absolute shit due to your period, so you were even more upset he wasn’t there. All you wanted was to lay down with him, to cuddle up, that would’ve been enough. And though he did come home later that night and you were sure he was cuddling you while you slept, it didn’t count. It wasn’t the same.

And on top of that, he had had to leave this morning way before you woke up. You hadn’t really seen him in almost two days. Normally you wouldn’t be so upset - maybe you’d even be relieved that you’d have some alone time, but not today. Right now you were upset about the fact that he didn't wake you up before he left or call you when he knew he wouldn’t be back before you fell asleep and mostly that right now he wasn't already all over you when normally, you couldn’t get him to back off.

You knew you were being more sensitive and emotional than normal, but still. The one time he gives you space and it’s the last thing you want. And as you stood there you were only getting more worked up that you were so upset.

You really fucking hated being on your period.

Bucky, on the other hand, had been on edge all day, feeling your stress and on and off pain. He wanted to get back sooner but every time he tried to leave the shop, there was another situation that he had to take care of. Eventually he just left and told Steve to handle things and to only call him if someone was really caught up, dying, or dead. He swore if he had to go over the information for Stark’s deal with Peter one more time he was gonna lose his fucking mind.

And really the only thing he could focus on right now was you. If he wasn’t feeling your sadness, he was feeling your anger or pain. And with the rapid changing of the emotions, and then the long intervals of their absence when he safely assumed you were sleeping, he knew you were either pmsing or actually on your period, and he didn’t want to piss you off or make you any more upset than he knew you already were. He wanted to get back to you. He wanted nothing more than to make you feel better.

“Sweetheart,” he said as he approached you. “Hey, baby, are you okay?”

You furrowed your brows, spinning around to glare at him.

“Don’t ‘hey, baby,’ me,” you said, annoyed.

“And, ‘am I okay’? No. Obviously I’m not okay,” you said a little too harshly before pausing a moment, not wanting to let your emotions get out of control as they’re prone to do when you’re on your cycle. You took a steadying breath before you continued.

“I’m really mad at you,” you said with some restraint, trying to hide your sadness. That was futile, though, as a tear slipped and you cursed yourself for being so emotional about this.

“You’re mad at me? That’s why you’re crying?” he asked as he got closer.

You wiped at your face again, shaking your head and turning back around.

“Just forget it, okay?” you said as the microwave went off.

“I know you’re upset and you’re not feeling well, but I didn’t think it was my fault,” he said as he pulled you into him from behind. You shrugged him off you and away and went back to the microwave, grabbing your mug and then a fork from the drawer.

“Leave me alone. You had no problem doing it yesterday.”

You had muttered that last part as you walked past him out into the living room. You should have known he wasn’t gonna let that go, though. Hell, you did know. You knew exactly what you were doing but just couldn’t stop your mouth.

He stopped you by grabbing your arm and pulling you back, the force causing you to accidentally drop the mug you had a very light hold of, cracking the handle off and ruining your treat… Though in all actuality, it was still perfectly intact, and you knew you were overreacting. You couldn’t help yourself, you were still upset. And your emotions didn’t suddenly become unimportant just because you were on your period. You still felt them. Whether they were exaggerated or not, they were still real. You couldn’t keep them at bay. You might have been dramatic but you had every right to be, in your mind.

“Bucky! My brownie,” you frowned as your eyes started watering again while you pouted, looking down on the mess. Before you knew what he was doing, you were being carried to the couch as you huffed. Yeah, you were being dramatic. But you didn’t care.

“I’ll make you a new one,” he promised as he laid you down, handing you the remote and then walking back into the kitchen, picking up the mess on his way.

After a couple minutes, you regretted telling him to leave you alone, worrying he actually would again. But before you could really start fretting, Bucky was back in front of you.

“Doesn’t really feel like you want me to leave you alone,” he teased. You glared at him again as you took the mug he was extending to you. “I take it you missed me,” he continued, moving your legs so he could sit down while you searched for what you wanted to watch.

“You couldn’t be bothered to say bye? Or to call and let me know when you’d be back?” you said as you refused to look at him.

“I said bye,” he assured you. “You were asleep but I still said bye.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head before responding,

“Whatever.”

You started the movie and tried to make yourself comfortable on the couch. Before you really could, Bucky took the new mug from you and placed it on the side table. He pulled you into him and a moment later you grimaced from a sudden cramp. You were nestled into his side, your knees pulled as close to your chest as you could manage as his arms wrapped around you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured as he kissed your head. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Okay,” you grumbled into his chest.

Another cramp and a soft grunt from you caused him to move you around again.

You soon found yourself lying in front of Bucky, your back to his chest while you watched the movie. Both of you were stretched out on the long couch, his arms wrapped around you and your throw blanket laying on top of both of you.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Bucky’s hands started wandering. You ignored him at first but when the cool metal of his left hand brushed up the material of your loose shorts, you stopped him. Guiding his hand away, you thought he’d get the message.

He did not.

As soon as you let his hand go, he was back to running his fingertips along your exposed skin as his head dropped to your neck where he trailed kisses. Soon your eyes were shut as you were softly whining with your head rolling against him as his wandering hands began kneading your breasts over your thin tank top, traveling back down your stomach, pulling your hips back and causing your ass to back up against him, then ghosting along your thighs as he tried to pull your shorts down when you had to stop him again.

“Buck, no,” you breathed out.

“What? I’m just trying to help,” he soothed as he continued kissing you.

“It’s- no. I’m on my period. It'd.. be too messy.. I don’t want to deal with that right now,” you said as you mindlessly let your head fall back against him, allowing his lips more space to travel along your soft, sensitive skin as you breathed a little heavier.

“Okay,” he said against the shell of your ear. “We don’t have to. Just.. let me make you feel better.”

You had heard those exact words before and you knew Bucky was well aware that you were too far gone, lost in his touch, to object. You didn’t complain when he tried to pull your shorts off for the third time and instead helped him - you pushed the throw off of your bodies and lifted your hips, helping him rid you of your shorts. He then bent your leg back to lay on top of his, granting him more access to you. His hand wandered your thigh, along your hip, toying with the band of your underwear and tickling you as he went, all while trailing kisses along your shoulder and neck, nuzzling into you.

He brought his hand up to your lips, instructing you to open, and you did so without hesitation. He placed two of his thick fingers into your mouth and you instinctively closed and sucked on them, eliciting a soft groan from Bucky as he watched you intently with heavy eyes, his mouth parting open as he stared hungrily at the way your lips sucked around him and your still watery eyes stared back at him. You could feel his cock getting harder from behind you but he paid no mind to his growing erection, all his focus on you. He pulled his fingers out past your lips, and you let him go with a pop before he slipped that same hand down the front of your black underwear. His nimble fingers, wet with your own saliva, found your already swollen and sensitive clit immediately.

You let out a gasp at the instant pleasure and your eyes squeezed shut at his attention. He played you so well, and you didn’t think you’d ever get used to it. His expert fingers rolled your clit deliciously before he began slowly and deliberately rubbing in circles, using just the right amount of pressure. Every touch was bringing you higher and higher, his eyes never leaving your face as your features contorted in pure pleasure. All your annoyance at him disappearing as he talked you through your orgasm at his hands.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, princess?” he breathed into your ear, your moans of pleasure your only response as your hands latched onto his forearm, begging him not to stop.

“So good,” you babbled. “‘’M so close, Bucky, please, please please please,” you mumbled breathily. The air between you was delicate and he was being so soft and attentive, even as he quickened his movements, and you loved every second of it.

“You wanna come, hm? You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Go ahead, princess, come,” he coaxed. You came completely undone at his words, your body chasing his touch as you did, thigh twitching softly, your legs nearly falling shut around his hand as his name repeatedly fell from your lips in your pleasure, soft ‘thank you’s following shortly after. “That’s my pretty girl,” he praised, still rubbing your clit gently, sending small waves of continued pleasure through you while you gasped, a light almost silent moan falling from your lips and you writhed against him. “Always so sensitive, aren’t you,” he teased before turning your face to his and pulling you into a deep kiss. You couldn’t refrain from pushing your ass back against him, receiving another hungry groan from him in response. “Keep doing that, you know I’m not afraid to get messy,” he warned you.

His hand slipped free from your underwear and moved to your ass, squeezing the soft and supple flesh before lightly slapping your bottom, causing you to yelp at the slight sting. He chuckled at you before his hand drifted over your skin and around you, softly rubbing your lower tummy as he returned to nuzzling his head in your neck. “So, did that help? You feel any better?”

You turned your body over completely to face him, you had stopped paying attention to the movie a while ago anyway, and wrapped yourself around him. He immediately returned the gesture as his arms held you tightly against him.

“I’m feeling better,” you tried to say, though it came out muffled against his shirt as you nuzzled into him.

“Good. I knew you would,” he smirked before kissing the top of your head. “Your attitude is usually just your cry for my attention. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn’t here, giving you exactly what you need?”

You paused and tensed in his arms, furrowing your brows, your head tilting in puzzlement, almost disbelief that he actually said that before taking a deep breath.

“Please, don’t piss me off right now,” annoyance laced your voice, though he only cuddled you tighter as he held you against him.

“What? You know it’s true.”

“No, it’s not,” you argued, trying to pull away, but to no avail.

“It’s okay,” he placated. “Makes me feel like you don’t actually hate me as much as you like to pretend you do half the time.”

You went quiet at that, guilt, that you couldn’t help but resent feeling, surging through you. Instead you took another deep breath, sighing as you buried your head back into his chest while his arms continued to hug you.

“I love that you’re a crybaby- you’re my crybaby,” he smiled as you huffed in quiet annoyance.

“Did you ever think that maybe I’m not a crybaby and you’re just an asshole who happens to make me cry a lot?” you questioned sharply. He smirked down at you, staring at you for a second before he went in for a kiss. You turned your face right before he could connect with your lips causing him to instead kiss your cheek. He swiftly grabbed your face and forced you to look at him, his hold a little too tight as he pulled you in, kissing you hard and wanting, for a little too long.

You cautiously pulled away, your hand on his wrist, avoiding his gaze while looking down to his chest and swallowing hard. You were suddenly a little anxious - he was getting a little more intense and you weren’t in the mood for anything too..heated right then.

And as sensitive as you were at the moment, you just couldn’t help but flash back to the other times you found Bucky being too aggressive with you. You knew you wouldn’t be able to stop him if he tried to push further..not that he would, you tried to tell yourself. You gently pulled his hand down, moving to hold it in yours as you breathed in and out trying to keep your breathing steady.

“Sorry,” he murmured as he pulled you back to his chest, arms never letting you go. “Relax. I’m sorry,” he soothed as his hands rubbed your back.

You laid there for a while, both quiet, as you again calmed in his embrace, his closeness lulling you. The movie was still playing in the background when you eventually broke the silence.

“Since when do you call yourself my boyfriend?”

He laughed. “I was wondering if you’d caught that,”

“I did,” you met his eyes, “Boyfriend seems a little… I don’t know,”

“Understated,” he supplied.

You blinked, nodded lightly, slowly. “Sure.”

He hummed as he looked down at you in his arms. With the weight of his stare, it felt like he wanted to say more. You were grateful though, as he changed the direction of the conversation instead.

“Have you eaten?”

You shook your head in response.

“Neither have I. I don’t wanna get up, though. I’m just gonna order pizza.”

“Okay,” you responded quietly.

He looked down at you again, you could feel him staring, like he always did, as you started nodding off in his arms.

“‘M cold,” you mumbled. Bucky leaned down over you and pulled the throw off the floor, laying it on top of you. “And your pants are itching me.”

“I can take ‘em off,” he smirked.

“If you want to open the door in your boxer briefs later, go right ahead.” You shimmied the blanket behind and under your body so you were essentially wrapped in it, creating a barrier between your soft legs and Bucky’s rough denim.

“You think I won’t?” He was rustling against you and you rolled your eyes as he jostled you while he undid his belt and eventually rid himself of his jeans, with his shirt following suit. He pulled the throw back off of you for the moment as he spoke.

“Now you should take your top off, it’s itching me,” he simpered as his hands pulled at the hem of it, inching it up your soft tummy. Skin to skin with Bucky was your secret little heaven, so you bit back an unbidden giggle as his breath tickled you and his hands smoothed up your sides. He removed your tank top completely, tossing it down with the rest of the clothes that were now piled up around the couch.

“There we go. That’s better,” he smiled as he pulled the soft luxury throw back over your bodies while his arms returned around you, holding you ever closer to him. He leaned his face closer to yours and you didn’t turn away as he kissed you again, soft and gentle this time..Restrained, as you could almost feel him holding himself back while he continued kissing you, seeming as if he never wanted to part from your lips again, until you eventually pulled away to breathe. He kissed you once more, lingering a moment before he let you go with a sigh.

“God, I love you.”

You hummed in response, hiding a soft smile as you pressed soft kisses into his jawline and trailed down his neck before you nuzzled into him again. “Love you,” you breathed, “..you’re warm,” you mumbled into his chest as you cuddled further into him and he chuckled softly.

Your sleepiness was now evident in your voice as your lashes fluttered shut. Soon enough you were napping soundly in his hold and that tugging in your chest that had been longing for him was finally quiet. You were content with his arms around you, more comfortable than you’d been at all these past two days.

You were so much less tense and a lot less upset than you had been, thanks largely in part to the release Bucky had given you. The pleasure also brought much needed relief from the cramps you’d been enduring.

God were you thankful for orgasms. Orgasms and chocolate. Orgasms, chocolate, and cuddles. All of which Bucky readily provided you with.

And now that he was back home, you didn’t have any plans to let him leave you again, for the next few days at least. If he was right about one thing, it was that he knew exactly what you needed, at least most of the time, and when you needed it. And he always gave it to you with no hesitation.

Late that night found Bucky carrying you up the stairs effortlessly as your legs were wrapped around him and you were caught up in a heavy and heated make out session. You almost always eventually, regrettably, turned into a needy mess when you were hormonal and Bucky made no effort in hiding how much he loved it. And though you often made significant efforts to hide how much you loved his care and affection, it always showed through.

The more you had relaxed, and the more comforted and relieved you felt, with his warmth surrounding you as you cuddled together in nothing more than your underwear, you decided that you’d wanted to thank him later.. if he was willing to get a little messy with you, and he always was, then why the hell not. He always took care of you, especially when you felt as bad as you did on your period. He could use some care and attention, too. More than that, you found yourself truly wanting to give it to him. After all, what are fated soulmates for if not to comfort and care for one another through the mundane and the painful. Through it all.. despite it all.

#soft!dark! bucky #soft!dark bucky x reader #soft!dark bucky #dark!biker bucky #pwyc series #dark!soulmate au #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky #asks #anon #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x curvy!reader #dark!bucky x plus size reader #dark!bucky x chubby!reader #dark!bucky x plus size!reader #soft dark bucky barnes

[donnerpartyofone]

I'm trying to picture the logical outcome of that rhetoric going around about how we should all reblog people's art and fan content out of the goodness of our hearts--like just to satisfy everybody's cravings for attention, as opposed to reblogging if and when we actually like something enough to want it on our own blogs. I mean there's no other reason NOT to reblog something than that you just don't enjoy it enough, so the only reason to press people about reblogs is to override that basic lack of desire and pleasure. With that said:

Let's say person X is earnestly writing and recording really shitty music. You don't like it, but you feel duty-bound to make them happy by acting like you think it's good so you reblog it, all of it, every time. And let's also say your supposedly heroic urge to promote things you don't believe in, to make your blog represent stuff you don't actually care for just to create a feeling of artificial popularity for someone else, catches on, and we all start doing it. Now everyone is playing music they don't like, or are even indifferent to, and we're putting it on all of our blogs, like you're covering your room in posters for something totally uninspiring, that you're only involved with out of pity. And then one day we all find ourselves middle-aged and tired without that much money or energy to go around, and we're still dragging our asses to shows that start too late and go too late, trudging from the bar to the bathroom as the only way of breaking up the monotony of politely sticking it out until your friend goes on--who actually isn't even your friend, they're just some rando on social media who everyone collectively decided to boost out of the misguided notion that we are all owed zillions of notes and followers just because we want them, and now this person gets to go about their days imagining that they're deservedly famous and never learning things like, for instance, you should make art for your own personal satisfaction and not to get everyone else's approval, or that being loved by a few people who really understand you is better than being popular with masses of strangers, or that there are forms of success that aren't just doing numbers on some cretinous website.

One of the more important parts of the above is, person X is not your friend, they're just some guy. In real life, there is a good probability that you will sometimes have a friend who makes bad art or bad music or writes bad poetry etc, and you will feel obligated to go to their show/reading/etc and act supportive and come up with nice things to say until you're exhausted to the point of death. And you sacrifice your time and comfort like this because X is someone in your life who you care about, even if it doesn't feel completely honest to be this positive about everything they do, it's worth it because you're invested in how they feel (this is providing you don't have more of a tough love relationship, which is maybe ideal, but not everybody does so well with that, so ANYWAY). And if you're part of an actual community of artists, everybody winds up buying each other's zines and being the only people at each other's shows and basically just passing the same $10 bill around in a circle forever and man is THAT exhausting, but at least you all know the score, even if no one is saying it.

But what I'm saying is, this is the burden of relationships, the result of not being able to necessarily choose who you love. The most common type of relationship on Tumblr is between strangers; I will never know anything about the vast majority of people whose posts I see, even that I like. I will make some friends and acquaintances, but for the most part I'm here to have my own experience, to follow people because I like what they do, to interact with their stuff for no reason other than that I enjoy it. So for me, the Tumblr pitch is basically "Come to this site, people post all kinds of cool shit and you can amuse yourself for hours!" The pitch should not be "Come to this site where people will conspire to make a charity case out of you by making you think they like your stuff when they really don't," nor should it be "Come to this site where you have a moral obligation to help promote all kinds of random crap you might think is lame or boring, but you're forced to because you feel sorry for strangers who make bad art and you don't think they should have to learn that no one owes them a successful artistic career and popularity isn't everything!" I mean that is a nightmare. If you're lucky you'll have enough of that going on in your real life that you definitely won't want to join a website where you have to do it for people you don't even know. If you're extra lucky, you'll never have to do anything like this at all!

PS If half your likes and reblogs are inspired by charity and not informed by your actual taste, then your approval becomes totally meaningless and nobody should care what you have to say. Same goes for always agreeing with whoever is talking to you and always saying you're sorry even if no one asked for an apology. It's a way of being a liar. You turn your own word into mud.

[chaifootsteps]

Hi! I'm not sure how to start this, but please listen!

So, I know that probably some of the Hazbin Hotel episodes are gonna get leaked (Yeah, putting them out early is stupid, I agree) but please, please, please, don't!!!

I know this seems stupid and that a lot of people are obviously not gonna do it anyway, but this show (as well as Helluva boss) has a really important part in my life.

I'm a sixteen years old girl going through a rough time; and both HH and HB are big comfort for me! Yeah, some jokes are juvenile, the pacing problems are a myriad and the creator is an awful person; but that doesn't make the whole thing less special to me!

Those are the last shows that I watched whit my cousin before he completely forgot about me; the shows that I used to watch whit my ex girlfriend, before she moved away; the shows I blasted to not hear my mother insult me!

I'm just a random person on the internet, and you're probably gonna laugh at me, if only...but really, I'm not the only one who think this things.

You hate it but it's a million important things for me, so, just, don't leak it please, I want to be able to watch at least the two seasons they are putting out and make a lot of new awesome memories watching them whit the people I care.

Please, consider this a plea from the good part of the fandom.

Sincerely -Teen anon.

Well, first of all, let me assure you it's perfectly fine if HH/HB is important to you. It was/is important to a lot of us in the critical community too, and no one should ever make you feel like you're not allowed to love something.

But that said...yeah, everyone should leak this show to hell and back. And I'm going to do everything in my power to aid in this.

The problem is that it's not about the quality of the shows (or lack thereof), or even the rapidly diminishing good parts of the fandom. It's about Vivzie, plain and simple, and the fact of the matter is that Vivzie's a monster. She's a thief, a liar, a transphobe, and an manipulative, egotistical, vicious little bully. She's mistreated her friends, employees, and even her own fans for years, and it seems like her days of getting away with it are starting to wind down. Her content getting leaked and her shitty $133 bundles very likely going the same way are a part of that.

When/if that happens, if you don't want to be spoiled, there's no shame in blacklisting every tag you can think of, or even hiding away from social media until you can watch the show on your terms.

But if you want someone to blame for what it's come to, blame Vivzie herself.

#Anonymous #vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop #actual blog post

[anotherkindofloveletters]

Everything Happens To Me - Part 5

Hi flowers, so a bit of an angsty one and I feel like it's fitting today's news. It's not prooferead so I'm sorry about that. Hope you enjoy it anyway. if you want to be added to a taglist just let me know. tw: sadness, angst, ferrari, shitty media, sadness and sadness once again. english is not my first language.

chapter 4

Denial of evidence

After the grand prix things kept going downhill for y/n, she had to put her social medias on private to avoid all the hate she has been getting and Charles had to start avoiding being public with her, than inevitably brought his team to discuss the matter again. “I am sorry Charles, but for her sake and yours you should go back to being in secrecy.” those words feels to the Monegasque like a stab in his heart, knowing damn well it was the right choice, but the most unfair one at the same time “You’ll have a press conference in 30 minutes and read this statement, you’d better call y/n.”.

Charles has been working in Maranello for a few days after the Monaco Grand Prix, so he didn’t get the chance to spend much time with y/n after what happened, knowing what he said and what was going to happen a big knot in the throat hunts him as he dials y/n’s phone number on his own. “Amore?” her voice feels comforting to him and painful at the same time “Mon ange” he stops for a second before taking a deep breath “Charles? What’s happening?” he keep staring at the statement paper in front of himself, not really knowing how to start “Listen ange, I have to tell you something that you won’t like.” he could hear the tension building up in y/n’s silence “We just can’t do it out there in the public like this, is way too dangerous. I don’t want people to hurt you because of me, we’ll just have to wait a little longer.” y/n perfectly understood what he meant, he couldn’t blame him, but it hurt badly “I understand Charles, you don’t have to worry.” He knew she was special and understanding and that hurt him even more, knowing that she doesn’t deserve this situation “I have a statement, for a press conference. Do you want to know what’s in it beforehand?” “No, don’t worry.”

The press conference eventually happened and Charles really fought to put a straight face on and read the statement as if it was something he believed in, y/n started the live session on Ferrari’s official page to watch it while it was on air. It felt all surreal to both of them, but they knew at the end of the day it was the right choice.

“Good evening, since we noticed there is a misunderstood situation that is bringing many people to face uncomfortable situation we wanted to adress some issues with this conference. Feel free to ask questions at the end of the statement.” The moderator of the conference, professionally introduced the situation before letting Charles speak and recite the paper his team gave to him earlier. “Many journalists and media, shared pictures of me and my dear friend y/n y/l/n, and many started speculating and creating false declarations of the two of us being a couple. She’s been my friends since a long time now, but there is just affection as brother and sister between us. I referred to her as a girl friend, but by no means I meant it in a loving way. So I would ask you all to please let her be, and myself too as my profile is the one as formula 1 driver and my love life and friendship shouldn’t be of your interest. Thank you.” Charles feels as breathing is a challenge right now, just imagining how y/n would feel after hearing those harsh words streaming live.

It takes a couple of seconds for y/n to understand all the things she has heard in the past 10 minutes, the conference kept going on her laptop screen, but after that statement she couldn’t really hear anymore. It just slowly became a white noise under her loud thoughts.

Being able to see each other started to become harder and harder each day more. Charles was far away most of the time and they needed to be careful, because everyone was watching what Charles was saying and doing, and even when he was able to get back to Monaco they had such little time to spend together. The two of them tired, always on the edge and small discussions had become part of their new a-normality. Everytime Charles was away it hurt to y/n, but when he was there and she wasn’t allow to enjoy time with him, it hurt even more. Excuses, after excuses, until they piled up. To Charles was painful as well, it was hard to concentrate when he was far away, knowing ho y/n struggled to support him from afar. It was hard to him even when he could came back and his team always found away to persuade him into avoiding her and troubles.

Eventually many lost occasions and excuses to y/n were too many and everything broke. “Y/n you know I would, but I can’t. It’s too dangerous.” “It’s super late and I will cover up, nobody will notice me. I swear Charles, it’s been too much and knowing you’re here on a break, so close. How can I just let it be?” y/n voice broken trying to fight for what was hers “Y/n… You know it.” Charles was struggling as well, but he could not for the life of his just let it go, even for once, he fought too hard for what he had and his team really made him think that she could be the end of it, but to y/n seeing him like this was the end of them. She decided that she would go to Charles anyway and after hiding u behind a hoodie and a face mask she left her place.

Many things passed through her mind at that moment, she felt the need to see him, kiss him and say how much she loved him. On the other hand her rational side knew that it was dangerous, that he’d probably be mad and the only right thing to do was just one. “Y/n, I told you. What are you doing here?” Charles’s eyes were painted of a mixture of happiness in seeing his loved one face after a long time, and sadness knowing the risks they were taking “Don’t worry, I’ll make it fast.” those words made Charles feels as everything stopped for a seconds “You know I love you Charles, I do with all my heart. But this isn’t us anymore, this is avoiding each other, discussing over our basic needs. It’s pointless being together but being held so far, it’s too painful. It’s not good for us, living in fear.” At that point Charles started to realize, not just what was she saying but everything that went on in the last period of time “y/n…” “Please, let me just finish. “ a small sob escaped her lips before being able to push through the tears and finishing her speech “If we can’t do it properly, it’s better we don’t do this at all.” Charles would have loved to say one thousand things, he feels like he wants to shout at her, hug her, kiss her and saying that he would give up on anything and fight anything to have her. Instead he just stayed there, still with a tear crossing his face “I am sorry.” the only words that are able to leave is mouth “I love you.” y/n answered, looking into his eyes, she wasn’t mad at his reaction, he knew him. It was just all too much. She just turn and leave the Monegasque behind, with a “I love you too” trapped between his lips as he saw everything he loved slipping right away.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 fan fiction #female!reader #f1 imagine #forbidden love #charles leclerc imagine #il predestinato #charles leclerc x female!reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagines #f1 x you #charles leclerc and charlotte siné #charles leclerc fan fic #charles leclerc predestinato #il predestinato vince #charles leclerc x female

[runningwithfangs]

Vampire Chronicles Book Review/Rant #2

The Vampire Lestat

I think we can all agree, what a turnaround! So completely different from IWTV. I’m not sure what I was expecting, probably something more like a Midnight Sun (Twilight from Edwards’ perspective) or a Slayer Chronicles (to the Vladimir Tod series) Turned out to be more of The Saga of Larten Crepsley (to the CIrque du Freak series)(I was raised by vampire books, apparently).

Anyway, what a ride! About halfway through I was feeling a little frustrated that we hadn’t gotten to when he met Louis yet, but I was also having so much fun reading about this Chaos BisexualTM. So much happens, so many dumb Lestat adventures, Nicki, Lestat’s turning, Gabrielle, Armand and his coven, Marius, Akasha and Enkil, Louis and Claudia, Rockstar music video films, vampires ablaze out of nowhere! 10/10 Romp, I had so much fun reading this.

Lestat is so many things, he’s cheery and determined to brighten the day of those he loves, he’s been beaten and abused by his own family, he hopes and dreams like any young person, yet also deeply fears the meaninglessness of life itself. I can for sure relate. 

I also enjoyed the way it was written, easy and lighthearted, even in darker parts Lestat describes things with humor to mask the pain.

Favorites:

I appreciate when Lestat takes the time to describe the wonders of the modern world, what stands out to him, what doesn’t. He’s blown away by film, excited by women in bare arms, that even poor people could eat meat. In later books he’s so excited by pens that can write forever. Super interesting to think about, and the though experiment of “what would a vampire think of world through the ages” is one of my favorite things about vampire media.

Lestat and Nicki’s relationship is so cute! Their drunken afternoons in “the conversation,” they take turns comforting each other from their familial demands and expectations. They go to Paris and live in a shitty apartment while they work their asses off in the theater trying to pay rent. It’s almost like a CBS sitcom, but like, in a good way. It’s so devastating to me that Vampire Nicki ended up like he did.

Gabrielle, my love! What a queer icon. She cuts her hair, wears men’s clothes, even Lestat gets in on it, trying to find her the manliest jewelry. I think about the freedom female vampires must experience in this series a lot. Gabrielle clearly hated being a mom and wife and living in a crumbling castle. And now she is finally free, freer than any of her wildest fantasies.

When Lestat asks her if she had become a vampire first, wouldn’t she also send money and gifts to the family and keep caring for them, and she’s just like, oh psssh yeah, of course 😂 

Armand/Lestat being worsties.

Marius spending eons hiding Those Who Must Be Kept only to pick up Lestat, go: I like ya kid, you got spunk, let me spill all the vampire secrets. Only for the Most Special BoyTM

When we FINALLY get the 3 whole paragraphs about Louis and Claudia at the end of the book, it’s not enough, but what is there is lovely. “Even in his crudest moments, Louis touched the tenderness in me” “But I loved him, plain and simple” UGH, Anne PLEASE. 

Least Favorites:

Why did Lestat slip his mom the tongue 😭

Not enough Louis 😡 (Little did I know there would only be crumbs of him from then on)

Vampire Nicki 😣 He hated Lestat in the end and then Armand cut his hands off! He deserved better. 

Smutt:

Nicki and Lestat getting drunk and making out at the tavern! Love that for them.

I am NOT counting Lestat/Gabrielle kisses.

If I missed something maybe y’all can let me know.

Nonsense Meter:

Medium nonsense, I think. Especially considering the books to come. 

Lestat flying and SCREAMING at the Theater. Lestat showing up to the catacombs to utterly destroy the cult with facts and logic and “New evil for a new era.” Lestat giving into the intrusive thoughts to kiss Akasha and play her the violin only to nearly get killed by Enkil, and OF COUSE, the whole Rockstar Lestat thing, with the music videos and the song lyrics and the Halloween concert. 

Misc:

It was Marius’s fault for sending Lestat to go live a human life! Thank you/goddamn you.

I am confused by how at the start of the book Lestat is interested in rock, he goes to jam with Satan’s Night out and loves the attention that would come with being a rockstar, but it’s only after he reads IWTV and gets all upset about it that he decides he’s going to get Louis’s attention by becoming a world-famous rockstar. “I ached for him, ached for his romantic illusions [...] his physical presence.” But once Louis does find Lestat, not much happens.

I was so excited for the reunion once Louis find’s Lestat and his band chilling before the concert, would they fight?! Would they make out?! And it was. . .ok, Louis tries to warn Lestat, and they dance around their feelings, and that’s kind of it. Lestat doesn’t even ask about the book!

Then I was excited that Gabrielle (post-concert disaster rescue) got to meet her shit son’s ex-husband! Was she going to be disapproving (no one is good enough for her boy), furious about the release of IWTV, or maybe try to convince them to give up mortal world shenanigans and go climb waterfalls with her? Nope, we got nothing, just wondering if it was Marius setting all the fledglings on fire. Anne . . . I don’t get it.

#interview with the vampire #vampire chronicles #lestat de lioncourt #the vampire lestat #book review #book rant

[my-castles-crumbling]

My opinion of you? Hmmmm. Well honestly, my opinion of you… really fucking good.

I dunno how comfortable you are with compliments so i’m putting a little warning here; compliments incoming :)

Firstly, you are an awesome writer. Like genuinely. Plus it’s so impressive that you write/post those microfics everyday, it’s serious (sirius haha) dedication, and most ppl wouldn’t have it in them to keep a routine like that. 

Two, you have legit saved people. People here felt safe enough to ask you for help, and from all i’ve seen, you’re damn good at giving advice. 

Plus I saw that one anon you answered where you told the person not to admit they cheated if it’d get them in more trouble than they deserve, and I salut you for that. (I remember you also told them that cheating is wrong and mostly don’t do it- don’t worry I got the right message). 

Anyway, my point is, there aren’t many places people feel safe enough to talk about their problems or insecurities or even dangers. Especially on the internet. So you’ve made a really good community here. You should be proud. 

But we’re doing full honesty right? So honestly, I think that it seems like sometimes you don’t have enough faith in yourself. 

I mean your fics are amazing, but also, they’re fucking free and a gift to the fandom. So you shouldn’t feel the need to meet anyone’s demands or be good enough for anyone but yourself. 

And here, you have helped so many people, I understand insecurity is a part of living, but maybe you don’t get how helpful your blog is. Whenever I come on here, you’ve posted a microfic or made a marauders joke or truly helped someone (with annoyingly good advice btw, i’m an adult and yet NO WHERE NEAR as mature, so good on u), and it’s soothing. You’re soothing.

Give yourself credit, is what i’m saying. 

You’re allowed to feel proud that you help people, proud that people love your writing, and ignore anyone who’s an asshole cause they’re dumb anyway.

And don’t forget that you don’t owe anyone anything. You don’t owe anyone a fic, or a tumblr post or an anon answer or even (within reason) kindness. You’re being generous with your time and your kindness by helping people. And while obviously that’s a good thing, you shouldn’t feel pressured to do so. 

Wait let me rephrase that- anyone who pressures you to do so is a bad person and should be strongly ignored. 

You don’t have to apologise for not wanting to post or be on social media. And anyone who cares should value that you’re taking time for yourself. 

Plus, and sorry if it’s weird to bring up your like, real life, but I think you’re probably a really great teacher. I didn’t have many people who believed in me growing up and you seem like someone who believes in people. And that’s what matters most. 

(Plus all teachers are criminally underpaid so like- good for you sticking with a half shitty job- though then again all jobs are half shitty) 

Also, and in this day and age this is a truly high compliment, you don’t seem like you’ve ever sent hate. 

You just have that vibe. You know… nice :)

So yes, that is my opinion of you.

Also, random question, how much gory stuff in films can you take? Usually i’m pretty alright, but I watched a pretty gross film earlier and it reminded I can’t watch everything gory. 

So yeah… that’s all ❤️

Hi, um...I am SO sorry, my my allergies are terrible and I seem to be sweating from my eyes....nothing to see here...😭😭😭😭

Thank you. Genuinely. I have honestly been struggling a fair amount lately, so notes like this make a much bigger difference than you would think <3

As far as films, I'm alright with gore. I actually LOVE horror films, but I prefer psychological horror and horror based on East Asian legends.

Thank you again <3 <3 <3

#ask #asks #ask cas

[hope-for-the-planet]

I'm coming to your blog directly after having a panic attack about environmental stuff because I don't know where else to go. I'm a teen right now, and I'm scared out of my mind because I'm worried I won't have a future, or the one I have will be so shitty and terrible. everytime I feel better and hopeful after reading an article or something, I see someone online say how we're all fucked, or how this is the last generation to die comfortably. I'm sorry for pinning you with the task of alleviating my anxiety, but I don't know where else to go :(

Hi Anon,

I am so sorry that you are feeling this way and that it took me some time to get to your ask—you and your fears are always welcome here. You have been on my mind since I got this ask as I’ve been thinking about the best way to answer it.

It is deeply unfair that you are already feeling this burden so acutely as a teenager. Please know that you are not alone—there are so many extremely smart, dedicated, and talented people working to make sure that people like you have a future to look forward to. You are inheriting a legacy of generations of older humans who have fought and continue to fight to protect our planet and mitigate climate change. We are in a better situation now than we would have been without their actions and the number of people who care deeply about this issue gets bigger every day.

If you are regularly having panic attacks or anxiety that feels beyond your control, please seek support from friends, family, or a mental health professional—or find a trusted friend or family member to help you access mental health resources if needed. We all need extra support sometimes (myself included!)—mental health professionals can help you build strategies and access resources to keep yourself regulated when you run into major anxiety triggers.

It is completely reasonable to have concerns about what the future will hold—but you absolutely still have a future and the chance to live a meaningful and fulfilling life even in the midst of this crisis. We will face new and different obstacles from past generations, but there is still ample opportunity to mitigate the scope of this crisis, to adapt our communities to weather the challenges of climate change, and to leverage this necessary change to build a better world.

On this journey there will continue to be times when there is bad news and setbacks and difficult change—and this means that cultivating resilience and coping strategies is an important part of building your own adaptability and preventing a constant drain on your mental health.

This includes 1) Building an arsenal of healthy coping strategies and mental health resources that work for you (climate anxiety can be treated with many of the same strategies as other types of anxiety). 2) Avoiding messages of despair and seeking out sources of hope and energy. Surround yourself with people and media that feed your hope, join communities working to make things better, focus on the piece of the puzzle you can help with and don’t dwell on bad news that you can’t do anything about. Anxiety isn’t activism. 3) Even when you get really good at the previous step, there are still times when the world throws setbacks and despair in your face and you have to grit your teeth and choose hope anyway. This is the hard one and it takes time and practice—but this is how you get through those rough patches when there is a slew of bad news and all seems to be for nothing.

On days when the world doesn’t offer hope, hope is a gift you give to yourself. It is the only way we have kept fighting this far and it is the only way we will succeed in the end. Go looking for something to be hopeful about, and if you cannot find it, make it yourself.

Imagining a future for yourself--a future with hope and meaning--is a big part of this.

I’ve linked a few other posts that I hope will help you here: (X) (X) (X) (X) (X) (X) (X) (X) (X) (X)

I hope that this helps you. I wish I had an easy trick to tell you to switch off the anxiety. I wish that I could give you a hug through the internet and tell you that you aren’t alone and we are going to be ok. Please, please take care of yourself <3

#ask #anonymous #mental health #anxiety #panic attack #ecological grief #climate anxiety #climate dread

[moonshinemusings]

This blog *-* Can I have a headcanon for Price ? The ones for Soap and Alejandro are ghgffhh <3

Hello there! I'm really glad you like my blog, thank you! Here are some headcanons about our favourite Captain :)

---

General John Price headcanons (Pt.1)

Warnings: slight mentions of PTSD, depression (?), smoking, canon typical violence

A/N: This turns pretty grim by the end, but I hope you still like it!

• This man watches football whenever he can and he's been at matches quite a lot in his life. He took Gaz with him a few times, even Laswell once

• Sometimes he snores like a dad and Gaz needed several days to get used to the sound in order to sleep when they started working together

• Tells horrible dad jokes all the time and he knows most of the guys hate them, but won't stop

• Coughs like his lungs will collapse but somehow he's healthy

• His knee always crunches like it's about to break

• He's mostly unperturbed by all the carnage and violence by now, but he saw a baby being born once and almost fainted and threw up

• In full honesty he doesn't mind cheaper cigars, but he likes to fuck with everyone by acting like he hates them

• The smell of the smoke on his breath/clothes is really noteable but he doesn't care

• Has a high alcohol tolerance. The only way you will know if he's getting tipsy is by noticing the subtle change in his accent to deeper and more slurred words. If somehow he's really gone, then you will know by the little red tints on his cheeks (which are mostly hidden by his facial hair, but you can see it up close)

• Not an early bird. He tends to be grumpy in the mornings, but if you give him coffee it's gonna be fine

• Which reminds me: his preferred drink will always be a good whiskey, but he usually downs anything he has to (coffee, tea, those horrible protein shakes, vitamin mixes and so on)

• Occasionally reads, mostly classics or novels

• Prefers salty food over sweet

• The secret of the facial hair? Patience and genuine care about his appearance. He shaves for like an hour every time because he doesn't want to ruin his mustache/beard (Alex is the same damn way I swear)

• He likes jazz music and 80's rock. Sometimes he blasts those horrendous English raps too because he knows the others hate it (sorry if I insulted anyone lol)

• Thinks pineapple on pizza is hideous (Soap loves it lol)

• He's had so many broken bones in his life, he has no idea if there is any in his body that he didn't destroy at least once yet

• He doesn't really like action/military based movies because of the unnecessary violence in them. They remind him of things he doesn't want to remember too much. He'd rather watch shitty romantic movies or even comedies, but he won't be caught dead while laughing at them. He also tends to laugh while watching horror movies, but the heavy gore can remind him of bad memories

• He doesn't care about social media or any of that stuff really. Sometimes Gaz shows him stuff like cat videos because he loves them. Everything he knows he got it from Kyle tbh

• He has no fashion sense whatsoever. Outside of work he either looks like a dad on vacation, or still wears too much stuff similar to his gear that he seems to be going back to work in 10 minutes

• He likes fuzzy socks btw

• Adores big dogs, he can just wrestle with them and when they lay on him it makes him feel centered and comfortable thanks to their weight

• Unreasonably good at poker and he has the highest record with like 2 wins behind Laswell (who he just can't beat)

• He can handcraft a bunch of stuff if you give him a piece of wood and a knife. He made little figures for Gaz and the guy kept them as lucky charms over the years

• He doesn't fuss around too much about food and he's not picky. Whatever he gets, he gets, and that's fine by him (he used to live off worst stuff anyways). He loves meat though, a nice steak always puts him in a good mood. Also probably makes mean bbq

• Drinks beverages like orange juice or even milk straight out of the carton

• He's a man who always keeps his promises. Not one to lie or feed half truths, he always straight up says everything he has to

• Has a collection of weird/dumb looking beanies he has received over the years from his team

• He met Kate's wife once and she made him feel like family in the best way possible. He was glad his best friend had such a great person in their life that they could go home to

• Very protective of his men. He has lost too many friends and doesn't want to lose anyone else

• His biggest fear is ending up alone, watching everyone he loves die

• Every man he has lost weights heavy on his shoulders. He remembers their faces, but not all their names which makes him feel even more guilty

• Tends to bottle up his emotions and act like everything is fine. Sometimes he breaks down seemingly out of nowhere, but only when he's alone

• Kate is his closest friend and when it gets really bad, she's the one he seeks out

• He has occasional nightmares just like everyone else, but feels like he's dealing well with them (mostly he does)

• He has a watch he got from Soap as a birthday gift once. He only wears it outside of work because it's too important for him to get it damaged in any way

• He rarely has free time or time away from work, but he gets the most out of it. He has a few safe houses, but prefers to spend his time in one in particular because it has all his personal belongings he has left

• At first he thought the "you're everyone's father" was a joke, but then he realized how genuinely they meant that and he kind of broke down. He didn't think he deserved that amount of deep affection and what came with a title such as that, but it made him feel unexplainably happy at the same time

• He's not sure if he ever wants a family. He knows the military is his life and would never leave it behind, unless he has to retire because he can't keep up anymore (even then, only if they force him). The idea of having someone who loves him waiting at home brings warmth to his chest, but he's not sure if he deserves it. He doesn't want to taint anyone with his hands that hold so much blood on them

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #mw2 #modern warfare2 #john price #captain price #captain john price #price headcanons #headcanons

[dross-the-fish]

Honestly I don't know if you'll see this but I want to apologize for all the rude anons you get, your work is amazing and I get so happy to see your posts whether that be art or more lore of your characters it genuinely brightens my day and to see all these shitty anons say rude stuff is so angering and I hope it doesn't take away your joy from posting.

And I'm especially sorry about those people who were upset that Adam was asexual, like I'm allo(?) but seeing some of the things these people are comfortable saying is just so mind blowing and you genuinely don't deserve to have to deal with that theres so much i could say about them but then i'd just be ranting lol. anyways I'll wrap this up by once again saying your writing is awesome and I love your art even the doodles and I hope you continue to post on this app despite the rude people

Thank you so much, this is so sweet.

I promise I'm alright. I might get mad or even momentarily upset but I was aware that if my blog ever got popular that it was going to happen. I see it happen to other artists, I see my mutuals get hate over political opinions often enough. It isn't surprising anymore, it's a sad fact that gaining attention means some of it will be negative.

But it's honestly a minority, most of the anons I get are well wishers or requests for art and writing.

I'll admit the acephobia was unexpected and it cut me deeper than I thought it would, probably because I'm ace myself. I know it's not worth taking personally but I do get tired of feeling like there's no place for me, even in the LGBTQ community. There's a pervading feeling of my existence being grudgingly tolerated but no one wants to see people like me in media because sex and romance are viewed as such an essential part of the human condition that ace or aro characters are treated as "disappointing" or "lacking"

Maybe also because I put so much of myself into my interpretation of Adam it's hurtful which someone comes up and asks if they can headcanon him as allo. Especially given that nothing is stopping them from making their own version of the creature and there's no reason they need to project their head-canons onto mine.

I'm not anywhere near quitting this app, I get a lot more love than hate and my followers and mutuals are lovely people that I legitimately like seeing and engaging with, even if I am painfully shy irl. I appreciate you guys and I'll keep sharing with you even if it means dealing with the occasional hater.

[wri0thesley]

so sorry to be that guy ack but the corset talk has really reminded me how modern media has ruined people's perception of corsets and women's clothing in general... Corsets are ye olden day equivalent of bras! They provide support, give the impression of a smaller waist silhouette (when it comes to structured corsets) and help with posture! Some enthusiasts of older articles of clothing have taken up to wearing corsets daily and are actually pretty satisfied with them, since they can be unexpectedly comfortable. Some people even wear them during sports!

If a corset is hurting you, or you notice you have trouble breathing while wearing it, then either it is a badly made one or you're wearing it wrong, so always be mindful! Your comfort and safety come first.

Back on the yandere based talk though... How utterly intimate the act of them helping you put it on can be... Someone like Jean or Lisa, oh so kindly agreeing to tie it for you, carefully lacing everything together. Jean would be so careful and patient, making sure everything is laced perfectly and that you're comfortable, while Lisa would watch. She'd run her hands up and down your sides, admiring Jean's handiwork once she's finished. See, you look so good like this, aren't you a beauty? Lisa was right to pick out this pattern, it looks wonderful on a sweet little thing like you!

On the other hand, Kaeya would be more interested in taking it off... It's been a long day, you want to get out of this, so of course Kaeya is here to help you out! Nevermind that you specifically said you don't want his help. He'd be so mean, taking his sweet time with it. And uncharacteristically silent, enough to make you uneasy, frustrated with him. He has a way of toying with your nerves without uttering a single word.

Diluc would ah. Yeah he wouldn't really have experience with this. Leave it to the maids. Maybe you can tease him by asking him to tie it for you, make him all flustered, but in the end the joke's on you bc it would take him half an hour just to make a mess :( Such is the complicated life of Diluc's darling.

oh anon, you absolutely do not need to talk to me about corsets! i wear an underbust corset semi-regularly (i wear fifties repro fashion and it works for the silhouette!) and have talked about it quite a bit here! i get needlessly angry at media about how Corsets Are Bad or scenes about 'oh i hate wearing a corset so much'. the newest bridgerton has a scene where a character says like "my corset is made of whale bones. whales died for me to wear it" and AAAAAGH. it's not. whalebone corsets arent made of whale BONES!!! tell me you did no research without telling me! also that recent news about the bbc/netflix/etc 'banning' corsets over health and safety concerns - JUST MAKE YOUR ACTORS WEAR WELL-FITTED CORSETS? STOP TRYING TO MAKE THEM AS SMALL AS POSSIBLE, JUST GET THEM CUSTOM MADE TO FIT CORRECTLY. ARGH. historical costumery my greatest foe . . .

(i also find mine super helpful for grounding and i know that's very common! i have shitty posture and it helps with that but also the feel of it being there holding me makes me feel a lot more Present! i will also always be an avid Shouter Of Not Buying Shitty eBay or Amazon corsets and supporting a creator or small business!)

ANYWAY

lisa . . . ack. miss lisa. lisa and jean talking about how pretty you look in what they picked out!

i simply think that there is something so much sexier about darling slipping off their gown and being in stockings and chemise and corset . . . so intimate, but still so covered up. diluc is having a breakdown.

#nat.txt #corset talk #thats what ive tagged corset posts with before i think? #genshin impact posting #yandere mention