#she was actively trying to help the entire time is the thing

[kuidore]

Zoeystery headcanons ✧ KPOP Demon Hunters ✧ Zoey x Mystery

✧ ultimate yapper girl x listener boy

✧ He thought she was cute the moment he saw her bouncing her shoulders to soda pop while Rumi and Mira glared at her

✧ he’s not shy, just quiet. he just isn’t used to being human, and it tires him out a lot more than the others.

✧ He slowly feels like he’s actually relearning his humanity with Zoey, not just going through the motions of a human life like he had felt doing the idol thing

✧ Zoey gets anxious that people aren’t listening to her if they get too quiet. She’s used to being mid-ramble, asking a question, and not getting a response because the person tuned out and she didn’t realize

✧ after the first time she asks Mystery if he’s listening, he starts letting out noises of acknowledgement to reassure her while she’s talking so she doesn’t have to lose her train of thought

✧ he wants her to know that he’s listening very intently, and will sometimes even just say it out loud when he doesn’t have a better comment to make

✧ Zoey thinks it’s adorable, and she slowly feels less and less uncomfortable rambling for hours about television or animals or the songs she wanted to write

✧ She eventually just naturally stops apologizing for rambling or being too over the top, to him and to other people

✧ He starts getting better at conversations, but only with her. He asks social questions he used to think were stupid or boring or useless, because she’s the only one whose answers he actually wants to hear

✧ Mystery remembers nothing from his actual life on earth before the demon realm, and that doesn’t change even as he gets more comfortable as a ‘human’

✧ He couldn’t care less. He outright tells Zoey that it “leaves more room in my brain for the memories we make”

✧ she has to excuse herself from the room for a moment and yell into a pillow about how cute he is

✧ He can hear her doing it. when she comes back with a notebook he’s smiling wider than she thought he was even capable of

✧ she sits him down and they make a bucket list of everything she can think of that she considers “necessary to the human experience”, no matter how small

✧ she feels bad about being *excited* over his amnesia, but she can’t help but chatter about how she was going to be ‘introducing him to all this new stuff!’

✧ items on this list include but are not limited to; seeing the ocean in person, finding a really cool rock that you wanna keep forever, going to the bathhouse, and spending an entire day on the couch

✧ Mystery doesn’t really see what’s interesting about any of it, but he agrees because he wants Zoey to go with him

✧ He likes it, mostly because *she* likes it. He could be literally stranded in the arctic, if Zoey was finding a way to have fun he would be able to do it too. His number one idea of ‘fun’ is just… being around her.

✧ Mystery constantly wants to have Zoey on his lap/between his legs/sitting in literally any position where he can wrap his entire body around her from behind and rest his chin on her shoulder.

✧ he falls asleep like this fairly often. Zoey calls him her weighted blanket

✧ in general they both sleep a lot, they take afternoon naps together almost every day

✧ After enough time he’s got basically everything human down besides the ‘not barking at people who get too close to Zoey for his comfort’

✧ that one is an active choice. He has absolutely no intention of stopping that one

✧ bad saja boy became bad Mystery fairly quickly

✧ He pouts every time she says it. At first she felt bad about it, but eventually she started to find it cute

✧ he’ll sit with his head in her lap while she writes lyrics. She’s always patting his head and playing with his hair while mumbling about how soft it is.

✧ one day he realizes the whole time she’s been avoiding his bangs, and he grabs her hand and moves them away himself so she can see his face when she isn’t actively trying to kill him

✧ “You already know what I look like. I don’t care. If it’s just you.”

✧ She’s so giddy she grabs him and kisses him for the first time, and they’re both a little shocked by it

✧ it was the first time she saw him blush and she immediately became determined to make him do it as much as possible.

✧ She already has a notebook of things he likes and dislikes so she can remember (she has ones for Rumi and Mira too obvi)

✧ she adds a section to Mystery’s for things that make him blush

✧ she’s studying this guy like a bug and he secretly likes it

✧ He keeps the bangs cause most of the time he’s just so unable to control his own facial expressions that he would probably get into a fight in public

✧ but he starts pinning them back when he’s with Zoey

[gracieheartspedro]

Lotus Eater | chapter 5 - 4.2k words

my main masterlist - eddie masterlist - series masterlist

previous chapter - next chapter

summary: you needed way more money than initially thought to fix your car. so, you work through thanksgiving break. but not without eddie trying to ruin your groove and make you actually have fun.

warnings: slow burn, 18+ mdni, bullying, discussions about drugs, eating food?, eddie is fully flirting, reader isn't picking it up at all (or is she HA), mention of reader’s terrible parents, drinking alcohol, mentions of hellfire being weird with reader, gareth is kinda pushy but not without eddie keeping a close eye on him, jokes about religion and summoning satan, reader gets pretty drunk, forced proximity.

a/n: thank you to all the love y'all have given this fic!! i love writing it!! this one was so cutesy to write!

After the Kacey incident, Eddie was practically attached to your hip. You were not aware at first, simply just continuing conversations in the hallways when you arrived at school. Walking to class together because the rooms were across from one another. He was always just there.

But rumors were easy to pass along in the halls, and your former best friend was adamant about convincing the entire school that you two were a thing. It bothered you, but not in a way that you could pinpoint.

You had never been linked to a guy at school before. You never had a boyfriend or a guy that you would hook up with. You spent most of high school avoiding the guys you had crushes on and now you were forever associated with the one guy you actively dodged most of high school. And for some perplexing reason, it did not eat away at you. Being around Eddie was convenient and in some fucked up way, comforting.

When Eddie brought the rumors up to you one day after school, you told him you did not like the thought that people could not let the opposite sexes be strictly friends. He giggled, telling you it was pretty intolerant and dense of people, but you should not fret too much. 

“You are more worried about that and not the fact that people think you’re dating me, the Freak?”

Your lip quirked as you shook your head, “Oh trust me, I’m worried about that, too. I just didn’t want to make you upset. I committed social suicide the moment I arrived at school with you two months ago.”

His nose scrunched, his cheeks rising as he smiled, “You wound me, sunshine.”

-

The diner was buzzing with people. It was the first day of Thanksgiving break, which meant former locals coming in to order their favorite comfort food and the normal customers coming in to bother you about your Thanksgiving plans. You do not have any currently. If you are lucky, you will be the only one in the house and you could make yourself some instant mashed potatoes. 

In the midst of your daydreams of creamy potatoes, you watch a familiar van pull up into the busy parking lot. 

You roll your eyes immediately, knowing Eddie would only distract you from helping your two four tops. You position yourself near the kitchen, watching him, Jeff, and Gareth pour into the establishment. They are laughing loudly, disturbing the peace the moment they enter. You cannot imagine something is that funny. 

Eddie always has a way of finding you. His eyes immediately meet yours as he slips into a booth right next to your other tables. He has layered his denim vest over his hodge-podge leather jacket. You had added two new safety pins on the sleeve of that thing this past week alone. He would not let it go.

You groan dramatically as you pull out your notepad and pen. 

He has this shit-eating grin plastered on his face, his eyes playfully scanning your waitress uniform. It should make you feel insecure, like when every other man checks you out in your uniform, but you know Eddie is concocting some stupid jab at you.

He puts a toothpick between his teeth, rolling it back and forth. 

You did not want to admit to yourself the number of times you found yourself admiring the guy over the last couple of weeks. Your intuition was simply to push those feelings down and continue with your annoyed temperament with him. It was much easier than letting those thoughts creep in. 

“What can I get you guys today?” You ask, your body directed at Gareth and Jeff as they fuck with the menus.

“Coke,” Jeff says, matter-of-factly.

“Coke, please,” Gareth orders, emphasizing his pleasantries. 

You can always feel when Eddie’s looking at you. His big brown eyes practically pierce through your skin, “What are the specials, sweetheart?”

You lull your head back, snapping it back to finally look at him. You did not want to entertain his antics, but you had an audience with Jeff and Gareth, “Lima beans.”

Eddie’s nose scrunches, still shifting that toothpick around between his lips. “Really?”

You shake your head, placing your hands on your hips. That makes Eddie’s eyes roam down again. You know he wants to make a joke about your outfit so bad.

“No, Eddie.”

Jeff giggles at your condescending tone, all the while Gareth is still fiddling with the menu and not really paying attention. You break into a small smirk, eyeing Eddie with raised brows. 

He looks at his friends, then you, then his friends, then you again. He looks puzzled, playing up his completely oblivious act.

“Well then?” His voice rises as he pulls the toothpick out of his mouth. You watch his hand rest on the table next to the menu, his pointer and thumb rotating it. You are so fixated on his hand that you have completely forgotten the topic of conversation. When he repeats your name, you finally look back up at him. He has this knowing expression on his face like he caught you in the act. “The specials?”

In the most monotone voice, you recite the same thing you have said to all the tables you have had all day, “$5 open-faced turkey platter. With fries and gravy.”

He nods immediately, putting the toothpick back in his mouth. “I’ll take that, sunshine.”

“Gravy over the fries, okay?” You jot down on your pad, scribbling something that is not even legible to you. 

“Smother them suckers,” Eddie jokes, his voice deepening. 

“And what do you want to drink?”

He thinks for a beat, “Any drink specials?”

“Cool, so you’re actually getting a water.”

-

Your other tables leave you a combined $10 tip. No too bad, but for having to deal with their badly behaved children for an hour and a half, you were expecting a little bit more. 

You deliver Eddie’s food as soon as it is in the window. The evening has slowed down some and you have already done most of your sidework, so you nudge Eddie with your knee as soon as you place Gareth’s plate down in front of him. “Scoot. Need to get off my feet for a minute.”

He happily obliges, moving over in the booth to give you a place to sit. You sigh, leaning your head against the padded back. 

“What are you doing after you get off?” He asks, grabbing a smothered fry and devouring it in one bite. You look outside at the sun setting and shrug. You never had plans and Eddie knew this.

“My mom is supposed to be picking me up,” You explain, tilting your head so you are looking at him. He eats every meal like it’s his last and this is no exception. You never found the diner’s food that groundbreaking, everything mainly being carb overload, but Eddie eats it like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. When he brings his fingers up to lick the excess gravy, you feel your mouth go dry.

“And after that?” He interrupts your thought process, his eyelashes fluttering towards you.

You huff, “Bed.”

He and the guys both wince and groan at your response. You look between them, trying to act like they are the crazy ones. What was wrong with going to bed after a long shift?

“It’s a Friday night, sunshine. Why don’t you come to the kickback with us?” Eddie proposes, dropping his water cup a bit too hard on the table.

“Kickback?”

You had never been invited to do something like that and you were not keen on exploring what the Hellfire Club’s kickback would look like. You imagine it involved a lot of marijuana and alcohol, two things you were not particularly fond of. And while over the last month, you have been able to hold more conversations with the guys, you were not excited at the prospect of being around them while they were intoxicated.

Eddie nods matter-of-factly, “Yeah, Gareth’s parents are out of town. We are going to his house to smoke and hang out by the fire.”

Gareth speaks up with his mouth full of burger, “We are burning palettes.”

Like that was going to change your mind for some reason.

You grumble, trying to act very interested, “Sounds like fun for a bunch of losers who aren’t working.”

As you say it, an older couple comes in and sits in your recently cleaned booth nearby. Duty always calls at inconvenient times. You stand up while the boys snicker at your retort. Eddie rolls his eyes, grabbing your arm before you can walk away.

“Come on. Live a little. You work too hard,” He pleads, his bottom lip jutted out. You have to work tomorrow at noon, so it would not hurt to go. It was just not in your nature to entertain a party of sorts with the rest of the crew. Any after-school activities were always a no-go. Unless it was Eddie taking you home, of course.

You shake your head, trying to get him to see your side. “I get off at 10. I will be tired.”

“I’ll make sure you get home by 1. How’s that?”

He’s not giving up, but you’re not giving in. You are too set on being able to curl up in bed with your favorite book and get some early shut-eye. 

“I’ll pass,” You turn away, heading to your next table, “You guys enjoy.”

-

Of course, your mom does not show up when you get off. 

You stand at the pay phone, tapping your foot anxiously. Your legs cannot stop moving, having no protection from the elements. When the home phone continues to ring without a pickup, you slam it back on the receiver. 

Unreal. But it's not shocking. 

You almost decide to start walking home in the crisp autumn air, but instead, you spot a recognizable hunk of metal parked at the mini-mart across the street. Better than walking miles and miles in the darkness.

You curse your mother the whole time, stomping into the store with your oversized windbreaker swishing around. You see him and Jeff at the beer cooler, grabbing a couple six six-packs. Once Jeff catches your eye, Eddie turns around with a curious look painted across his face. It relaxes the moment he sees you. A hint of concern and understanding of the situation spreads across his face when he notices your disheveled appearance. 

“Didn’t show?” He asks simply, tucking the 6 pack under his arm. You scrunch your nose, placing your hand on your hips. After two months, Eddie is pretty well versed in how much your parents let you down. Neither of you needs to elaborate in these situations. Eddie just nods, disguising his annoyance towards your own mother. You look at Jeff and he is standing there observing you two like you are telepathically speaking to each other. 

He turns to the guy, handing him a twenty-dollar bill and the other 6 pack. “Check out and we will catch you outside.”

You watch the guy struggle to grab all the things from Eddie, somehow managing everything in his arms. You are not sure why Eddie is practically escorting you outside, his arm hovering over your shoulders to usher you to his van. 

“You want me to take you home or are you down to hang out with us for a bit?” 

Your head cranes up at him. You felt bad because you were pretty sure Gareth’s house was literally a hop and a skip from where you were, as opposed to the 10-minute drive to your house. Not wanting to inconvenience Eddie any more than you already were, you give in. Finally. 

“I can hang out.”

The smile that takes over his face is genuine and a bit wicked. “Atta girl. I knew you’d wanna hang with the cool kids outside of school eventually.”

You cannot lie, his praise makes butterflies scatter in the pit of your stomach. You know it’s just a passive statement, so your eyes roll to the back of your skull,  “All it took was me being stranded somewhere with only one person to come save me.”

He places his hand on your shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze, “I’ll always come save you, sunshine.”

-

Eddie is never pushy, but his friends surely are. Especially Gareth. 

When you arrive at his house, you take note of the middle-class life the kid leads. Two car garage, a large living room, and an even bigger backyard. Sprawling with trees that have shedded most of their leaves. When Gareth spots you, his eyes light up in excitement. 

“I thought you weren’t coming,” He says, shoving a beer into your hand. You were not planning on drinking, but you grabbed the bottle anyway. You can feel Eddie’s eyes lock on to you two even though Grant is ranting about whatever new grievance he had today. 

Gareth grabs the neck of the bottle in your hand and pops the top for you as you mumble through an explanation. “Mom didn’t show. Eddie to the rescue, per usual.”

He smiles as he clicks off his own bottle top, “Well, I’m glad you’re here nonetheless.”

Out of all the guys, Gareth’s interest in you was the most obvious. At least, that’s what you thought. You could always be reading the signs wrong. He was always slinging compliments at you, checking you out as you sat down at the lunch table, asking you questions about yourself when everyone else seemed too afraid to. You never fully entertained him, but sometimes you would shoot him a brighter smile than usual or compliment a button on his jean jacket. 

“Thanks for having me,” You reply, cheering your beer to him. 

That’s when you note his eyes raking down your body. He had not looked at you like this earlier, so it must be the multiple beers he had before you showed up. You were surprised by the obvious display and due to it being painfully awkward, you took a swig of the beer. You instantly wince at the flavor, wanting to gag it back up. 

“You’re drinking?” Eddie taps your arm, grabbing your attention away from the curly-headed weirdo in front of you. You take another sip, hoping it would be better the second time. Nope. 

“I guess so,” You move towards him, trying to get out of the way of the other boys carrying large palettes towards the fire. “I’ll need at least one watching these idiots set these things on fire.”

-

You have more than one. Because after one, Gareth asks if you need another. And due to the effects of the first drink making you feel lighter, you say yes. Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he does not reprimand you. He’s never one to tell you what to do.

You and Eddie have found some plastic chairs near the fire, laughing amongst each other as the guys jokingly act like they are starting a summoning circle around the flames. Between them loudly chanting fake Latin and blundering some random Catholic prayer, you and Eddie are practically in tears as you drink your beers. 

You never expected you would ever be here, but in your tipsy little brain, you are so glad you took the chance and came. Your mom’s failure turned out for the better. No thanks to her, plenty of thanks to Eddie. 

And talking to Eddie was easier. Honestly easier than Kacey before the drugs. He guided the conversation so seamlessly, never prying when it was serious, and only ever taking a joke too far when he was in a group setting to get some extra laughs. 

Everyone eventually calms down, sitting around the fire and sharing random stories. You already feel quite fragile, so once Grant starts telling ghost stories, you know it’s time to wrap up your time with everyone. 

You look down at Eddie’s hand, perfectly propped up on the arm of his chair. You tilt his watch towards you to check the time. 

1:04 am. 

“I should get home,” You say, tilting the remainder of your beer into your mouth. You have not even tried standing up yet, but the moment you do, it’s like you are walking on a tightrope. Eddie’s quick to catch on to it, too, standing up and grabbing your arm to balance you. His rings feel colder than usual. 

He giggles as you try to hold your arms out and find some sort of stabilization, “You’re pretty drunk.”

His hand is still on your forearm. You look up at him, trying to gauge if he is sober enough to drive. The bloodshot eyes and relaxed shoulders tell you that he’s not. 

“Yeah, so are you.”

His eyes soften towards you. There’s a shift in the air and somehow, the other guys catch onto it. Gareth is the first to slice through the silence. 

“Y’all can crash here,” He advises, tilting his beer towards his house. The idea that you would stay in the same house as 5 other guys was insane. You never had many sleepovers in the first place, let alone as the only girl. 

You are quick to shut it down, “No, that’s fine.”

“I got some clothes you can wear,” Gareth ignores your rejection, standing up from his chair and stumbling a bit towards you. You start to feel this unexpected panic like you are going to be stuck here with just Gareth. 

“No, I’m fine.”

Eddie’s hand wrapping around yours takes you off guard. Somehow, in some strange way, you feel your heart rate start to slow back down. His big brown eyes are always fairly reassuring, “Gareth has a guest room, sunshine. Lemme get you set up in there. Come on.”

“Eddie-“

“I will take you home in the morning. Promise,” He says earnestly, his thumb brushing across your knuckle. You squeeze his fingers, reluctantly agreeing. As long as he’s staying with you, you feel a bit more secure in this drunken decision. 

-

“I am good on the couch, Eddie.”

Eddie reenters the last room on the left. He had left you to get changed in some clothes Gareth had lent you. 

The room is right across from Gareth’s but it’s a bit smaller. You had peeked in his space when he was digging through his drawers trying to find some clothes you could wear. The bed in your room is a queen and takes up most of the square footage. But it’s very comfy with a mountain of pillows on top. As desirable as the spot was, you felt bad for the other guys who would be sleeping on the area rug in the living room or on Gareth’s dirty laundry that occupied his floor. 

Eddie shakes his head, smiling at the baggy sweatpants you are now sporting and the Hawkins P.E. t-shirt,, “No you’re not. Lay down. I’ll get you more blankets.”

You watch him pull open the closet near the door. You can tell he’s trying to accommodate you, but you are already a bit overstimulated.

“Eddie-“

He throws a blanket your way, halting you from continuing whatever shit you were about to talk to him, “Stop saying my name. Let me help you.”

“I don’t want help,” You demand, tossing the blanket onto the bed. You slightly change the weight onto your other foot, but you feel your knee buckle a bit. The alcohol makes your body practically feel like jello. 

He giggles at the way you practically tilt horizontally on the flat hardwood, “You never do but I still want to.”

Your eyes burn into his for a second. He tilts his head, revealing his Adam’s apple bobbing. You lose the topic of the conversation immediately. “Want to what?”

Your drunken mind makes those thoughts creep in even more. Sitting around the fire earlier, you realized you really enjoyed the sight of Eddie’s squinty laugh. He only does it on rare occasions, but when he does, you cannot help the wide grin that creeps across your face. Eyes completely closed, head thrown back, and his carrying cackle. You also took notice of the way his lips curl inward when he is listening intently to someone. Occasionally his tongue gets caught between his teeth when he’s really focused on something, like messing with the fire poke. 

“Help you, sunshine.”

“You’re always helping me,” You explain as you pull the blankets off the bed back. The sheets looked silky, much more improved than the old stained sheets on your springy bed. “You take me to school. You let me sit with you and occasionally steal an orange from you. You take me home from school. You save me from being stranded at work. You do too much helping.”

He just smiles, helping you settle into the bed. He pulls another blanket on top of you, jokingly laying it over your face. You pull it away instantly, shooting him a faux annoyed face.

“You comfy?” He asks, looking down at you like you are a little kid he is tucking into bed. 

Your displeased expression fades, settling into an at-ease one, “Yeahhhh..”

He giggles at that, slowly creeping backward towards the door. For some reason, that familiar nervousness starts to bubble in the pit of your stomach. A feeling only he made go away by being close to you earlier around the fire. 

“Okay,” He whispers, tilting his head towards you, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You sit up straight in the bed, pulling the covers over your chest as you do, “Wait!”

It was a stupid thought, but it etched its way into your brain. You could not stop it.

His eyebrows shoot up, “Yeah?”

“Where are you sleeping?”

“Why?” He presses with an even more confused air to his voice. 

You feel like an idiot almost immediately. You wanted him near you. You do not know why. Maybe it was being an unfamiliar space and he’s the only person you really knew. 

But that would be admitting that you like having him around. You were not too sure you wanted him to know that.

“Because I want to know,” You try to sound obvious, but your voice cracks a bit. You clear it before continuing, “In case I need to find you.”

The sly smirk that creeps across his face makes you want to crawl under the blankets and never come out. “Why would you need to find me?”

“If I have a nightmare,” Another lie and he knows it. You know it, for fucks sake. “I don’t know Eddie, just cause!”

The latter half of the ‘explanation‘ gets him. He steps towards the door frame, leaning against it with this arrogance only Eddie could pull off, “Probably on the couch.”

“Why don’t you sleep in here?”

He is surely not expecting you to say it. You do not even know where it came from. It was the alcohol. The smell of clean sheets. The fluffiness of the feathered pillows. 

He points a finger gun at you, his shift in demeanor feigning awkwardness. “Because you are sleeping in here.”

All you could do was double down. Your brain truly gave you no other choice.

“It’s a queen size bed, Eddie.”

His eyebrows raise under his frizzy bangs. He leans forward towards you, then back, shooting a glance down the hallway. It’s almost like he’s checking to see if the coast is clear. You can hear the other boys stumbling in, being loud and rambunctious as they set up the living room to sleep. 

You can see the wheels turning in his head, “Why do you want me to sleep with you?”

“Not sleep with me. Sleep next to me,” You had to correct, wanting to make sure that this was all it was. His presence is close to you. Not… inside you.

You had never really craved a guy’s attention like you craved Eddie’s. While it was not something you really wanted to explore, you knew that it was still something. You had never been intimate with another person, only kissing a boy named Greg in 7th grade, simply for a dare. You were inexperienced in wanting someone. 

Did you want Eddie? 

You could not. You will not. 

He pulls you out of your conflicted expression, giggling as he sulks towards you. He kicks the door with his foot slightly, hinging it shut, “I am a snuggler, sweetheart. You don’t want to sleep next to me.”

Eddie holding you sounds like a dream. Like a dream that you are not sure you want to have. 

You imagine it in your brain before you speak up, a small smirk morphing across your lips. His tattooed arms sliding across your waist, holding you taut with his warm chest. It fills your entire being with a sense of calm. When your mind turns into imagining him on the couch, too far away for comfort, it feels like a jab to your heart. 

“I’m drunk enough to let it slide.”

dividers from @/saradika-graphics

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[madhels-enby-boyfriend]

Things I wish made it from the Chicago to the Broadway version, ranked in no particular order:

-“and then I’ll win 😎” (at the end of that was then, this is now). I feel like that added such a great insight into what Helen’s ultimate goal is, to win this perpetual game/competition she has with Madeline, that’s far more important than her own happiness or whether or not she actually loves Ernest. It’s what the song ends on, the most important take away, Helen wants to win. It’s another little reminder that Helen isn’t just a helpless victim in this, but also is actively trying to do any and everything to make Madeline jealous, to win this game.

-Madeline’s little sword in Tell me, Ernest for no particular reason, it just made her even more insane and I love a crazy woman

-Helen’s little baret at the start of the show cause it made her look even cuter

-“Let’s buy a boat in Hawaii and name it ‘she’s dead’! I think it’s cute or is that too on the nose?” (Let’s run away together). It makes Ernest panic singing “let’s buy a boat in Hawaii and name it ‘we’re murders’” (Confrontation) so much funnier to me and I love a little throwback (even if it’s only like 5 minutes later).

-I know I’ve said this before but the conversation they have after Ernest fixes them up, where Mad confesses that she’s always been jealous of Helen, it gives her character a little more depth and gives her a motivation beyond “admit you called me trash behind my back my whole career” (Hit Me) which makes little sense cause in Tell me, Ernest, Tell me, Ernest-reprise, and at the start of the show we watch Helen do it right to her face. They also talk about old times and we get a glimpse of what they were like when they were a little less toxic and happier and it also helps provide an answer to the question why Helen keeps going back to Mad (other than being in love and obsessed with her). Like she clings to these memories and maybe even hopes that it could be like that again. In that moment she even asks: “Mad, why couldn’t it have always been like that? We had such fun.” In that same conversation Hel apologizes and Mad is like ‘why are you apologizing, I’m the one that was a bitch’ (paraphrasing) and like there we see the first little moment of growth, like she’s owning up to it. Honestly I just miss that entire conversation like it’s a much needed softer moment with still plenty of humour in it and I love a glimpse of young madhel. Anyway I will forever be in mourning about this.

-“I don’t wanna go back in the bag 🙂‍↔️😨” “You want people to see you like this?” “Put me back in the bag!”

-H: “I’ll go get the car.. do you have the keys? 🙄”

E: “I don’t have them.”

H: “Well I don’t either.”

*Madeline’s arm shoots out of the bag to hand Helen the keys*

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely think the Broadway version is better overall, and I’m happy about most changes, but the Chicago one was the first one I watched so it’s a little sentimental for me (also I do think that one conversation could have added something to the story).

[isaacathom]

had an excellent first proper session of Space Game (Starfrost) playing as Lynette, a runaway raider matriarch.

a quiet little highlight for me is that for 95% of the session the party are actively weighing up whether to throw me out the airlock or shoot me or some other act, going as far as to throw me against a wall and confiscate my weapons. And Lynette kept trying to talk them down by going 'look, fine, take the weapons - i wish to live, as we all do. wouldnt you prefer an extra pair of hands in this crisis?'

lynette then preceeded to do very little with said hands, except caving in a guys skull (dw about it), incidentally revealing that she remains a threat sans weapons. oops!

[camgoloud]

you ever just. become overwhelmed by a sudden out-of-nowhere wave of tenderness and affection and longing for reconnection directed towards someone to whom you no longer speak for Very Good Reasons

[tibtew]

*clutching head* rodya and meursault would have such a good dynamic actually

I wonder if rodya would initially see meursault's indifference as like. a simpler version of her own feigned carefreeness and as a deliberate attempt to place himself as an outsider... only to realise that No, he really Is just Like That. and then she gets annoyed because it turns out that people who don't care about anything don't seem to be any fun.

(ofc he does actually care about a lot of things, just not necessarily his grander place in the world lol)

idk. nihilism vs absurdism. fun duo 👍 rodya would find meursault's genuine comfort with being a speck of dust in the universe baffling, while he would probably find her desire to assert her own importance pointless, but they could probably bond over little things like their shared desire to live in the present and appreciation of/indulgence in earthly joys. and meursault would probably listen if rodya wants to rant about anything without asking any uncomfortable questions. I think they could appreciate each other's presence.

[sturionic]

Activism is not cold-calling.

Activism is not cold-calling, and this is critically important to understand.

I'm seeing a lot of posts on here about 'building bridges' and 'finding community,' and then (extremely valid) response posts saying "BUT HOW??" And I'm going to explain something that can be very counter-intuitive: there is strategy involved in community.

As a longtime volunteer labour organizer, I’ve taken and taught many trainings on the strategy of talking. Something that surprises a lot of people is the very first thing you do in a union campaign. You sit down with your organizing committee, take out pen and paper, and literally map it out. You draw a physical map of the workplace: where are the entrances, exits, break rooms, supervisor offices. Essentially, ‘where is it safe to have a union conversation.’ Then you draw another physical chart of your coworkers. You sort out who is union-friendly, openly hostile to unions, or somewhere in the middle, and then you plan out very deliberately and carefully who talks to whom and in what order.

Consider: If Vocally Leftist Jane walks up to Conservative David and says "hey what do you think about unions," David is going to shut down immediately. He's not inclined to listen to Jane. But if Jane talks to Moderate Jason and brings him into the fold, then Jason is a far more effective strategic choice to talk to David, and David may actually hear him out without an instant reaction.

IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If Conservative David turns out to be Alt-Right David, and could be dangerous to follow organizers, we write him off. We are not trying to reach Alt-Right David. We are trying to reach Conservative David, who may actually be persuaded to find solidarity with other employees as fellow workers. Jason is a safe scout to find out which one he is. It does no one any good if Leftist Jane (or even Moderate Jane who is a visible minority) talks to Alt-Right David and puts herself on his radar. Not only has she done nothing to convince Alt-Right David to join a union - she's probably actively turned him against the idea - but now she's also in danger and the entire campaign is at risk. NOBODY WANTS THIS. Jane was NOT a hero for doing this. The organizing committee was foolish and enacted a terrible strategy to everyone's detriment.

Where you can make a difference is with people who will listen to you. You having a conversation with your well-meaning but clueless Centrist Democrat Auntie, and maybe gently helping her understand some things the media has been glossing over, is way more strategically useful than you marching up to MAGA Neighbour You've Met Once and trying to "build community" or "understand" them. They don't care. They're impervious, dangerous, and cruel. But maybe your beloved auntie will think about what you said, and then talk to her friend Anna who IDs as "fiscally conservative" but didn't vote because she can't bring herself to get on board with Trump. Then perhaps Anna talks to her brother Nic who has MAGA leanings but isn't all the way there yet. Proto-MAGA Nic would not have listened to you, nor would he have listened to Centrist Democrat Auntie, but he might absorb some of what his sister is saying.

This is not a cop-out or an echo chamber. This is you spending your time and energy strategically and safely. You are not a useful activist to anyone if you’re dead. Anyone who is telling you to hurl yourself directly at MAGA assholes like cannon fodder has no understanding of the strategy behind community building, and you should feel comfortable writing them off.

Last point: If you are tired, emotionally devastated, and/or in danger: take a break. This post is for people who would feel better jumping into action, not for people who are too overwhelmed to even think about it right now. You are worth so much even if you’re not actively Doing Activism, and your rest is worth more than “a break period so you can recharge and Do More Activism.” We all deserve the individual dignity of being worthy of comfort, rest & safety just on the basis of being human, outside of whatever we're doing for others' benefit. To deny ourselves that dignity is to devalue ourselves, and that’s the absolute last thing any of us should be doing right now.

[hypermascbishounen]

so burned out from stress and the person who did it is texting me and I do not have the spoons left to respond to them auuughaughuaagh

[sage-nebula]

Let's talk about Toriel.

Toriel is a grown woman, a mother of two. She teaches kindergarten at the local school, and volunteers at the local church as part of the choir. She is recently divorced. Her oldest child has recently gone off to college, and her youngest is:

Adopted from a young age

A different species

Known for pulling pranks and otherwise causing trouble, sometimes to great expense (e.g. bath bombs in the toilet)

Despite this, Toriel loves her youngest child as though they were her biological child. She checked out a "how to care for humans" book many, many times over the course of parenting Kris. She drives them to school each day, makes sure they're fed and cared for, and is clearly invested in their social life given how excited she is to learn that they've made a friend. As a newly single mother, she's doing her best.

But let's talk about her being newly single, shall we? She recently divorced her husband, Asgore. Unfortunately, Asgore has not accepted this. Toriel is being stalked by her ex-husband; he keeps giving her unwanted bouquets of flowers, and showing up wherever she goes. He even lampshades this, as though it's funny, when he pops out from hiding in the bushes near the church, after knowing that she would be there. Every time he does this, Toriel responds with obvious discomfort and anxiety, and makes an excuse to get away as quickly as she can. Asgore's behavior seems goofy and "well-meaning," but he is clearly ignoring his ex-wife's boundaries and actively disrupting her living her life by showing up where he knows she'll be, uninvited and unwanted.

So Toriel is recently divorced, with one child off to college, and another child who is clearly not doing well (despite Toriel's best efforts) still at home. She is being stalked by her ex-husband, but in such a way that it comes across as "friendly" or "kind" to everyone else, meaning she can't really make a big fuss about it or she'll look like the bad guy.

Then a new guy moves to town. He's friendly, he's funny, and they hit it off immediately. And unlike everyone else in town, this is a friend that doesn't have a connection to Asgore. (Rudy was Asgore's friend first, after all; it's not as if Toriel can really open up to him about how much his best friend is really putting the ass in Asgore.) This is someone that she can open up to, someone that she can confide in, someone that she can let a little loose with. Because she can't let loose at school, around the children; she can't let loose at church, in front of the wider community; but with a friend, in her own home?

And Sans is non-judgmental. Sans likes her jokes. As mentioned, Sans doesn't know Asgore, so he's not going to be inclined to brush off Toriel's concerns or discomfort because "well he just really loves you" or "he's just being kind." (Not to mention, Asgore also trauma dumped to Sans a bit, making Sans visibly uncomfortable as well, so Sans might even be more inclined to hear Toriel's side.) Sans knows about responsibility, given that this version of Papyrus seems to have issues of his own, and therefore perhaps Sans can relate with Toriel on how it is taking care of someone when you love them, but you don't exactly know how best to help them. Finally, Toriel has someone in her corner, someone who can understand, who she can have fun with.

Toriel isn't one of the main characters, and she's a grown woman and a mother (figure) at that, so I feel like it's easy to dismiss her side of things. Was it great that she was drunk when Kris came home, or that she and Sans continued partying even after Kris tried going to bed? No. But Toriel is a person, a whole entire person with a life outside of being Kris' mother. She's allowed to not always be on her best behavior, and she's allowed to make and spend time with a new friend when she, too, is pretty isolated as a result of her divorce and clearly stressed with the fact that Asgore is stalking her. ("Trying to win her back" is not, it turns out, an excuse for stalker behavior.) Toriel even tells Kris that the house feels lonely now that it's just the two of them, meaning that she, too, has been plagued with loneliness just like the main cast, and that Sans is, perhaps, her Susie.

Toriel is not an awful, uncaring mother because she got a little silly drunk with the first friend that is truly hers since her divorce. She's just a person. And she's allowed to be a person.

[yzzart]

I read your stuff for Dante and ohmegosh!! Just the kind of fluff one can enjoy after a grueling day ^-^

If you're still interested in Scenarios, how about one where his girl is in danger?

I don't know, I just can't help but picture a scary calm Dante going in to save his girl (maybe even angry enough to activate Devil Trigger) and his girl, safe, if not still freaked out- sees he's still angry, and tries to crack a joke just to help bring her boy back down from the rage- then him just laughing weakly at her joke before pulling her in for a tight but still gentle hug

WANNA KEEP ON ROLLIN', BABY! ── DANTE

── content warnings: F!reader, reference to the anime, mention of Devil Trigger and Sparda, words mentioning violence, jokes and puns.

── word count: 824!

They came to you. — Capable of being neglected, wicked to execute any malevolence, cruelty for exultation, will; sustaining the pure hatred that ran in their blood and determined and unwilling to spread torture and killing to anyone. — And with the assistance of an organization.

It was funny, ironic, in that case, that the characteristics mentioned could, without thinking, fit DARKCOM. — And Dante suspected, knew, that they influenced his location to those damned ones.

The so-called “Lieutenant Arkham” mentioned your name in Dante’s ears as she unnaturally tried to kill him. — She expressed and articulated questions related to you, without conveying the disgust and anger she felt for the demon hunter. — This man held himself back from ripping off, at the very least, her skin entirely.

You have been kidnapped. — Involved, attached to an ambush and enduring, being subjected, to the role of hostage; trying not to go crazy, to convey a horrified and weak reaction. — The weird and wretched white rabbit warned that he would stab the half-demon's weaknesses; from the amulet to the woman he loves.

Sparda's son — a reality that would need time to gain recognition — would not make his father's mistake, leaving and causing the lack of protection and death of his wife. — Even if that means eternal destiny in the underworld or the end of possible humanity.

Damn, that would be, respectfully, extraordinary with a soundtrack in the background. — He couldn't help but think; that was so cheesy, it was Dante's kind of thing.

These things, uttered by the merciless mouth of the disproportionate easter bunny, of “devil trigger” or “true form” that ran through Dante sounded like pure nonsense; something that he, even being a dumb chatterbox, would not think. — Until they revealed themselves to him, they reciprocated his fury, hatred and transformed him into a certain creature that he did not recognize. — However, he feared that his appearance could be a part of who Sparda was.

Dante never saw, verified — or created, relatively, with his imagination and creativity — the true appearance of Sparda; obviously, he heard stories or narratives about him. — But, he heard from those stupid brutes that he looked like the traitorous demon.

Deep down, if he ended up alive, he would delve deeper, searching with efficiency and interest, into the true story of his father. — Without having something trustworthy, or a living witness who wouldn't want to end his skin, Dante would have a long road ahead. — Everyone wanted a piece of him, what a desired man.

Recovering his honesty with himself, Dante only hoped that you would get used to his new image; and he hoped that you would like it too. — He has wings, rocky structures of pure red and lava predominated his body, horns and eyes, terribly, yellow. — It was still him.

It was still Dante.

“Dante?” — ​​Your voice determined strangeness, at the same time, fascination and not insinuating a panic or disgust of the demonic creature before your eyes; carrying an impetuous composure in the environment, which was, totally, destroyed. — ���I can’t believe it…?”

“In flesh, bone and claws.” — The altered voice, barely recognized, conveyed feigned enthusiasm, displacing the fury of the previous moment, the man suggested a pun. — “It’s all kind of new to me.” — He tilted his head, feeling the weight of the horns; Dante was taller, not that it changed anything between the height difference between you before his transformation. — “Very new, actually.”

It was recognizable, and somewhat indescribable, that there was a deep mixture of emotions rising in Dante's chest; just as his voice determined frustration and bitter anger. — A disturbance that he began to feel the first second his amulet was taken from him. — And they had almost done the same thing to you.

Sliding your eyes over your boyfriend's robust and impressive, hellish body, you captured lines, reminiscent of lava, shining as he breathed; enraged reactions remained in Dante. — You couldn't judge him, but you also couldn't leave him like that.

“At least you won’t have to worry about transportation, will you?” — Not knowing what to actually do to help him, you had to use his own weapon: his lame puns. — “Is it faster than a plane, big boy?” — ​​You were referring to the wings, which made Dante’s body like his coat.

Sparda's son laughed, exclaiming a sudden and sharp laugh, making your skin crawl as he listened and he could not believe that you would be subject to consuming your comedian side at a time like this.

“I don’t know, ma'aam.” — He moved his body, showing off, and with reason and without problems, your eyes contemplated more than they should, planning something. — “Do you want to find out for yourself?” — Taking control and opening his wings, signaling that he was about to take you out of there, Dante suggested putting the plan into practice. — "Why don’t demons fly first class?"

Yeah, Dante was still Dante.

[quickestgold]

Still Life: Dr. Jack Abbot x Reader

Synopsis: Jack always expects the unexpected, both as a doctor and a partner. But when your water breaks during a citywide blackout, the pressure to deliver your baby safely grows with each contraction, trapping you, him and Robby in a single, still moment of life and loss.

Warnings: Angst, as always; Pregnant reader; Features a graphic, traumatic birth > Similar to the birth scene in the show. Pls don’t read if this sounds too heavy for you!! (everyone lives)

Word count: 2.7k+

A/n: Yes, this is a cliché baby-born-in-an-elevator story, but the show gave us Abbot/Robby x Elevator and Collins mentioned getting stuck while giving birth, sooo what can I say, we're here now, aren't we. Something something about the enclosed space being a metaphor for birth etc. I’m also very passionate about raising awareness for birth trauma / birth related injuries + these are my emotional support sad boys, so I had to… Enjoy <3

“I’m not giving my baby an old white guy name” you deadpan, leaning against the nurses' station, glancing up at the board with a playful grin. Ellis and Shen chuckle at your honesty, Princess and Perlah enjoying the show from a distance.

As if summoned, “Oh I know you’re not talking about us” Robby counters, him and Jack suddenly appearing next to you.

“Well I know she’s not talking about me!” Jack adds lightly with that dry humor you love so much.

"All I'm saying is, Frank is a great name for a little boy." Langdon argues from his side of the station, hands on his hips. "Frankie. Frankie Jr., the possibilities are endless..."

You roll your eyes, though you can't help but smile fondly at the camaraderie, a warm feeling growing in your stomach.

Though it might be something else.

"Maybe we should go for a name that doesn't sound like he's already retired", Jack quips, his eyes meeting yours. Something about the way you're leaning against the station, catches his attention, worry flickering in his eyes.

The storm outside has been growing since the start of your shift, a low rumble in the distance interrupts the friendly work banter.

As if on cue, you feel another tightening in your lower abdomen, this time a sharp stab that makes you wince. You brace yourself against the counter, careful not to let anyone notice.

You're 40 weeks pregnant, but you know it's not active labor... yet.

Jack is already so prepared, so meticulous. You don't want to worry him more than necessary.

“Well, my vote’s for something classic”, Robby says cheerfully. “Like, um… Robby. Simple, strong.”

"Good thing you don't get one." Jack raises an eyebrow as he steps behind you, putting an arm around your waist instinctively. With ease he holds up your belly, taking some of the weight off your back. He gently pecks your cheek, whispering into your ear. "You okay?"

You lean into his embrace, taking a breath of relief, as you feel the pressure building inside you again.

Before you can respond, the storm outside shifts from a distant rumble to something more urgent. You hear the first crack of thunder, followed by a flash of lightning that lights up the hospital windows.

“So much for having a quiet night”, Shen laughs.

You instantly shush him, loudly. Everyone's reaction's are instantaneous, Princess and Perlah cursing in Tagalog.

Ellis: "Fuuuck!" Langdon: "You always do this!"

As usual, Shen manages to jinx whatever team is unlucky enough to work his shift.

The elevator doors close with a jarring ding. The tightness in your belly flares again, but you grit your teeth and try to ignore it.

Jack and Robby stand by the doors, arms crossed, like they're guarding something precious.

You lean back against the cold metal walls, the tightening growing again, unable to find a position that's comfortable.

Even in this enclosed space, you can hear the wind howling from outside. The lights flicker, then, without warning, the power cuts out entirely, as the elevator halts to a stop.

You hear Robby curse as the emergency lights turn on, their blue glow casting everything in a surreal light. The elevator now feels even smaller, almost womb-like.

Fuck.

You groan softly, hoping Jack doesn’t catch on.

But of course, he does.

“What was that?” He turns to look directly at you, concern written across his face.

You avoid his gaze. “Nothing, I’m fine."

You say it so unconvincingly, you almost laugh at yourself.

“I can see that.” It's the same skeptical tone he uses with Santos and the other interns. It's charming actually.

“When did you start having contractions?” Robby asks, like he’s already claimed you as his patient.

You hesitate, but there's no point lying. “This morning.”

“You’re joking.” Jack is by your side in a heartbeat, torn between putting a hand on your belly or pulling out his stethoscope. Torn between being doctor, partner or father-to-be.

“I’m okay. Really.” You try to reassure him, gently touching his forearm.

That’s when you feel the warm liquid rushing down your legs, a puddle growing beneath you.

Jack and Robby's eyes drop to your feet, then up at each other. They exchange a look, no words needed. This is happening.

“I- I didn’t realize…” You breathe, dazed.

“You didn’t realize you were in pain?” Jack asks, incredulous.

“I’m always in pain, Jack", you bite back. “Ever since you knocked me up!”

You groan, turning around to lean your elbows against the wall, letting your head drop. Your breath is already ragged.

Jack’s hand finds your back, rubbing slow, grounding circles.

“I’m not having our baby in an elevator…” you pant.

“I’m afraid, we are, love.” Jack whispers gently, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead.

You let out another sharp groan.

“I need to examine you. Is that alright?” Jack’s voice shifts into professional gear. He pulls gloves from the pocket of his trousers, swiftly slipping them onto his hands.

You nod, squeezing your eyes tightly shut.

He lines up behind you, slipping a hand into the back of your scrubs and reaching down.

Once he’s measured with his fingers, Jack’s eyes flick up to find Robby’s, a mixture of panic and surprise flashing across his features.

Robby reads him instantly. He steps in without a word, steadying your shoulders. His grip is firm and reassuring.

“What?” You gasp.

Jack leans in close to your ear, voice soothing, but urgent. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your already burning cheek. “Honey, listen to me. We’re having this baby now.”

You groan again, louder this time.

Robby’s frown line softens, his lips forming a genuine smile. He and Jack share a warm look, full of excitement.

“No. No!” You shake your head. "Not here."

No prenatal bag. No birthing playlist. No epidural.

“I need to have a proper look, okay?” Jack says calmly, though his hands move quickly.

“Wonderful." You laugh through a groan. "This’ll make a great story for group therapy.”

Nothing says professional boundaries like giving birth in front of your boss.

“I won't look." Robby promises, quickly turning away. "But I am a doctor, you know", he chuckles.

"Not mine, you're not." Your lips form a playful smirk. "This will do wonders for your patient satisfaction scores", you add with a wink.

The air suddenly feels a bit lighter.

Jack kneels down, gently parting your legs and slipping your pants down to your knees.

His eyes widen, before whispering. "You're in active labour, baby", his voice softer now.

Robby doesn't hesitate, rushing to the elevator doors, trying to pry them open. With a metallic screech, they slide just wide enough for people to pass supplies and equipment through. But you haven’t quite reached the next floor.

“Not enough to get her out,” Jack mutters.

You lean forward and peek through the small opening.

Your cervix is probably bigger than that…

“Dana!” Robby yells.

Dana appears instantly, dropping to her stomach to peek inside. She finds you leaning against the wall, pants down, legs shaking. Jack holding you up.

“Jesus. Y’all got terrible timing you know that!”

“We need fresh gloves, blankets, a BOA kit, baby warmer, fetal monitor, anything you can pass through.” Robby orders.

Dana’s already on it, shouting over her shoulder.

Jack turns to you again. “Do you want to sit or get on your knees? What feels more comfortable?”

“I- I don’t think comfortable is the word I’d use right now." You groan. "Feels like I’m being split open front to back.”

“I know. I know." Jack’s hands are already guiding you down. "Let’s get you on the floor okay?”

You drop to all fours.

It’s so goddamn hot.

Your hair sticks to your face, salty water stinging in your eyes, the vein in your forehead threatening to pop.

You tug at your scrub top and Jack understands instantly, pulling it over your head. You sway back and forth, now only in your bra, nothing else.

Groaning. Panting. Cursing.

Jack is beside you, gently massaging your back. He moves with you, trying to match your rhythm.

He’s grateful Robby takes command, barking orders to the team above, in full doctor mode. Focused, clinical.

“You’re doing so good.” Jack whispers.

Another contraction rips through you.

Jack glances at his watch, then over to Robby, who places a surgical blanket on the floor, hooks you up to cables and machines to monitor your and the baby’s vitals.

You curse loudly. “What the hell did you do to me, Abbot!”

“I’m sorry. You can do this.” He takes your hand, squeezes. “Let's meet our boy.”

The next contraction comes fast, stealing your breath. Jack doesn’t need to look at his watch, he knows.

It’s time.

Robby positions himself behind you, breaking his earlier promise. But you forgive him, if it means having your husband by your side and not two doctors competing for who's running this.

“She’s crowning.” Robby announces. His hand applies gentle but firm pressure, to keep the baby from delivering too fast and to prevent tearing.

Jack’s hand trembles slightly in yours.

“Y/N, I can see the head. I need you to push on the next contraction okay?”

You nod your head, almost frantically.

Jack takes a deep breath, for both of you, instructing you to follow his rhythm.

A deep, guttural growl tears from your chest as you push.

And push again.

The sensation overwhelms you. The burning, the tingling, the stinging.

The ring of fire.

“That’s it. Catch your breath before the next one.” Robby's steady but kind voice anchors you. “I need one more big push. Three, two…”

Jack’s voice is soothing in your ear, but you barely register it. You’ve never experienced anything like it.

You’re not even fully in your body anymore.

How long has it been? Minutes? Hours?

You feel another contraction approaching, but Robby suddenly halts you.

“Stop. Y/N, don’t push! Not this time."

“I- I have to.” You groan, almost sobbing.

“No.” Robby's voice is low, sharp.

Jack’s head snaps up.

Something's wrong.

“Baby’s shoulder is stuck on your pelvic bone. I need to release it.”

Jack turns pale, tightening the grip on your arms, preparing for the inevitable.

“I’m sorry,” Robby mutters, but before you can react, his hand breaches your entrance.

The pain is unimaginable.

Is he rearranging your organs?

You scream into Jack’s chest, muffled and desperate. He tightens his arms around you, attempting to ease your pain.

“J- Jack…”

“I know, I know, I’ve got you.” Jack's voice breaks. “Robby…"

“Hang on…” He's still rummaging in there.

"I'm sorry", tears streaking down your face. You look up to find Jack's eyes. "This is my fault... I should've-"

“Look at me. Hey,” Jack says, commanding your gaze. “We’re okay. You hear me? You and me. We’ve got this.”

“What’s going on down there?” Dana shouts from above.

“I need you to lie on your back, Y/N” Robby instructs. But before you can register his words, Jack has already flipped you around. Your bottom lowered against the floor, Jack sliding behind you to brace you in his lap. His arms wrap around your legs, pulling them up and in.

“Lean into me, baby.” Jack’s voice is soft. He closes any distance between you. Practically melting into your body.

“Okay”, Robby breathes, applying suprapubic pressure. “Let’s take a deep breath.”

You feel his hands, firm against your lower abdomen, pushing the baby downward.

“Dana! Call Dr. Ingram, from the NICU, we need him.” Robby shouts towards the elevator doors.

You swallow hard. “Please... Please tell me I'm not having a fucking c-section in an elevator.”

Robby glances up briefly. His voice is low, focused. “Not planning on it.”

He reaches in again, one hand sliding beneath the baby’s head, working carefully to release the shoulder.

Another sharp stab rips through your abdomen. It feels like someone's clawing their way out from the inside, making your vision blur.

“Fuck Robby!" You cry out, voice breaking. "Please stop.”

Though you know he can't.

“Got it.” He suddenly announces. “On the next contraction, you push again.”

Your head feels light, but you know you can’t give up. Not now. Not yet.

3, 2, 1….

You push. With everything. Every muscle. Every breath. Every part of your being.

Until...

A sound cuts through the air.

Crying. Tiny, fragile, crying.

Not yours.

Not Jack’s.

Definitely not Robby’s.

Your eyes snap open. And there he is.

Your baby boy.

Robby lifts him carefully, umbilical still attached, assessing, drying and finally, placing him gently on your chest.

You can feel an unfamiliar but indescribable warmth flood you.

A sob escapes your lips, but this time not from pain.

You've never felt a love like this. Pure and sweet. Instant.

Jack leans in, showering your forehead in kisses, then your boy.

“You did so good, my love." Jack whispers. "So fucking good.” He wraps a blanket around you both, trying to shield you from the cold, from the storm, from everything.

Robby watches the three of you, his own emotions evident in the way his eyes glimmer in the light. He waits a few moments before he's back in professional mode, clamping the cord and letting Jack cut through it.

But they know it's not over. You do too.

You feel another contraction coming…

"The placenta", you murmur.

Robby nods. “One more push for me. Ready?”

He presses into your lower abdomen, a familiar pain ripping through you again.

“There we go." Robby says quietly. "Congratulations mom and dad.”

But...

The moment of bliss suddenly turns into horror.

The world around you starts to fade.

You feel Jack’s arms tense as Robby rips your baby from your chest, passing him through the narrow gap in the elevator doors to Dana’s waiting hands above. You feel the cold breeze against your exposed chest, the loss of warmth from your boy.

What the fuck is he doing? Skin-to-skin is supposed to be longer than this!

You want to argue. Shout at him, but your body won’t let you.

Why are you lying flat on the floor? Where's Jack?

You stare at the ceiling. Your heart starts to race.

You know what this means.

You hear Robby’s voice change. Tighter. Urgent. Then Jack’s voice joins him, both of them shifting into clinical, practiced motion.

Massive blood loss.

If they can’t stop it you’ll need a hysterectomy.

Or worse.

Their words are distant, blending into the chaos of your wandering mind.

“Spike a liter of saline.” “Starting uterine massage.” “Dana! Two units from the blood bank.” "Balloon is past the cervix."

Panic rises in your belly. It travels up to your chest, then your head.

Robby’s movement are frantic now. Jack's too, eyes wide with terror.

Their hands are on you, moving, pushing, pulling, trying to keep you from slipping away.

Jack drops to his knees beside you, instantly at your face, cupping your cheeks with gloved hands slick with sweat and... blood? “Hey,Y/N? Hey.”

You blink slowly, your breath shallow.

“What- what if we name him after my dad?” Jack suggests with an unserious grin.

His deadbeat, boys-don’t-cry, toxic-masculinity-in-person father?

Another time you’d have burst into laughter. And that’s what he’s trying for. A reaction. Anything.

You blink up at him, your lips twitching. It’s a fragile smile, but it’s real.

"Michael.” You whisper.

"I'm here", Robby reassures, working steadily.

No. You gesture weakly. "Th-the baby. Mikey for short."

There’s only one Robby, so that’s the next best thing.

You and Jack want Robby to be the godfather, though he doesn't know yet. He's an important person in both of your lives. And now he's brought your son into this world.

You're glad he's there. For you. And your boys.

Especially if this goes badly...

Jack snorts, but quickly realizes you’re serious. Robby's eyes widen.

“Yeah. I like that.” Jack says softly, nodding, overwhelmed with love and fear.

Jack gently places an oxygen mask over your face, hands trembling as he brushes the soaked hair from your forehead, trying to comfort you in any way he can.

Your eyes flutter open, finding his. Memorizing him.

Jack leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours, whispering things you don’t hear.

Then he feels it. The absence of your breath.

The stillness.

A moment frozen in time, reflecting the fragile balance between life and loss.

Jack's eyes shoot to Robby's, desperate.

But Robby doesn’t stop. Not for a second.

He’ll do whatever it takes to bring you back.

Back to Jack.

Back to your boys.

And he wiiilll. As promised, everyone lives. But I had to end it here - for the drama lolz... Pls lmk what you think <3

Part 2: Still Alive

[watermelonshine]

BBF ELLIE PLS W SMUT? 🤗🤗

best friend!ellie x reader nsfw mdni

cw: possessive ellie, reader got out of the relationship so it's not cheating, fingering

Ellie and you are best friends, been so since middle school. She used to scare off the kids that tried to mess with you. She used to scare off the jocks that tried to hit on you. Now, she scares off anyone who tries to get in your pants at the club.

Somehow, regardless of her being so protective and possessive of you, you happened to get a boyfriend. He was...good you'd say, you didn't have any prior experiences to compare your relationship with. But you did assume it would be something more than you had expected. He was the first ever person who confessed to you and you being the hopeless romantic you are, you said yes. He treated you well, never tried to pry into your life, was somewhat respectful; he really shouldn't have called your old cat "almost expired", and never asked you to join his occult group meetings, thank goodness for that. And then there was the sex... He was sloppy, but not in the good way. Most of the time, it's just him rubbing on you with the poor attempt to playing with your clit. Thinking about it sent shivers down your spine, it was terrible. You guys have broken up a few days ago, he initiated, stating that he and his group tried to do some weird ass paranormal activity and that it would have an effect on their relationships or some bullshit and he can't risk your life or whatever. You needed to get out of the relationship anyways, he just gave a reason to do so albeit a dumb one. But jeez you spent too much time in that relationship.

Ellie didn't know that nerd from the other class would be a threat. She noticed him around you, staring at you with... something in his eyes, it's hard to say when he had huge glasses on. But she assumed he wouldn't have the guts to come and confess to you. Besides there were bigger threats surrounding you than him, she can't waste her time on that scrawny dude. But oh boy, was she proven wrong. She was almost about to break that boy's nose but then, she heard you say yes.

"Seriously? That guy? Come on now."

"I just want to give it a try, I've never done this before. Besides if anything goes wrong I have you, no?"

Her heart did a flip but she put that aside.

"He looks like he has tentacle porn on his hard drive!"

She wasn't wrong, you did find questionable stuff on his computer when you were looking for some photos. But you brushed that off, you weren't supposed to see it anyways, bringing it up would mean he'd know you were snooping around in his computer.

Ellie hated when he would put his hands around your waist and boast about how beautiful you are.

He didn't even know how to get you off, the fuck is he boasting about?

Ellie hated when you laid on her lap and told her how you didn't feel any sparks around him anymore, if you ever even had the spark with him. She hated that he was the one who was able to wake up next you and not her. She hated the fact he had the right to call you "girlfriend" and not her. She hated the fact that he had the chance to see you naked before her. She tried to keep those limp dicks away from you almost her entire life and somehow, you ended up with the worst of them all. So when you knocked on her door that day and said that you got dumped, she felt a weight off her shoulder- wait did you say he dumped you?

He?

Dumped you?

Over what?

"I spent months even years over him, thinking maybe I help him grow into his full potential. But all these years and he still wasn't even able to please me! What was I even thinking?"

Ellie wanted to ask you the same thing, what were you thinking dating him and not her? What were you expecting from dating someone she definitely didn't approve of? Why did you allow someone else who was not her to even live with you? To see you all day every day? To eat in the same table as you? To sleep in the bed as you? To have you under them?

Poor you never even had a proper orgasm before.

So when she hovered over you with her face few inches away from you, you whimpered at the proximity.

"Shush just let me make you feel like the goddess you are."

You were a gasping mess when she was thrusting her fingers into you. She peppered kisses all over you, your face, your neck, your tits. Gosh the sound you made when her lips brushed over your hardened nipples. You wrapped your hands around her, with your palms digging into her shoulder.

"E-ellie- t-too much-"

"You can take it, I know you can princess."

Fuck you've not felt this way in a long time, and you don't want it to end. You've been deprived for far too long. And it definitely seemed like Ellie really loved your fucked out face, with the way she kept grunting and speeding at every moan you let out. You weren't stupid to let go of the opportunity of allowing Ellie to fuck you stupid.

While you chased your orgasm, Ellie nuzzled her nose at the crook of your neck and peppered kisses all over it. Her fingers still moving to help you get over your high.

"Took you way too long, didn't it?"

Ellie's eyes went wide open.

note : I should really stop writing stuff at ungodly hours, I wrote this at the asscrack of dawn. also I'm back! ⊂⁠(⁠(⁠・⁠▽⁠・⁠)⁠)⁠⊃

[omniseurs-blog]

I am a stealth trans man, the privilege I have is being treated like a man as soon as they see me

If I'm applying for a job, I am treated like a woman trying to be perceived as a man, because they still see my legal name and gender marker on my ID.

If I'm trying to date, I'm perceived as a predator by straight women, a confused lesbian by bi/lesbian women (these demographics I rarely, if never go after), a tomboy by straight/bisexual men, and a gay fetishizer by gay men. At best with trans women, I become the therapist, and with trans men, it becomes an argument of passing better or worse and jealousy. That's not to say out of every demographic there are people who handle the relationship properly, but that the majority don't.

In friendships, things can go great for months and months, sometimes even years before they find out I'm trans and they start acting weird about it.

Suddenly they recommend more "feminine" music, hobbies, activities to do with me, they suddenly view me as their therapist to vent about difficulties with women, and that's all the BEST case scenario, that's the BEST thing that could happen from them finding out, this one's also the easiest to handle, "I thought you might like to see my grandmas garden.... My grandpa also likes it... Haha" - "no, nah, I wanna get back to playing eve online with you though, I mean, I do have some fake plants, heard they help with depression, think real ones would last a month at most".

An unfortunate amount of people react to things they don't understand with anger and attacks, whether that be verbal or physical.

I used to be nearly best friends with a girl named Kat. Unknown to me at the time, she had a crush on me. She invited me over, we got to her bedroom (in my mind, to hang out), she pushed me on the bed (I thought it was playful, like wrestling), and she pulled my shirt up and saw my binder, jumped away, and started apologizing. I went home straight after that. After that, she avoided me, and called me a faggot, rapist, molester, and creep after that. I wasn't interested in her at all before or after that, and I wasn't the one who initiated or caused that situation to happen.

Another incident was while I was at the mental ward, in which they usually refused to put my chosen name on the cards, and I would turn it around and write my chosen name every time I saw it. Unfortunately, I usually wasn't fast enough and someone saw my dead name on the card. He started asking me inappropriate questions, calling me a tranny, and eventually lead to him punching me in the face, the police being called, and the police did nothing besides give me a court date in an entire state over, which I had no way to get to, meaning nothing happened and the case was dropped.

A lot of people react to things they don't understand with suddenly disappearing from your life too.

You join a hobby discord server, talk, people think you're cool, they add and DM you, you get along fine talking to each other, you mention as relevant to the conversation that you're trans, the conversation magically fizzles out and becomes dry, and then they stop responding all together, usually intermitten with one or 2 inappropriate questions about your genitals or body or kids or hormones or surgery.

[mysterywriter2187]

Dean's attempts to dismiss criticism for separating Nani and Lilo has a lot of bullshit and ignorant logic to it, but this particular explanation is by far the stupidest.

Nani having no remaining family or trusted neighbours or friends to take Lilo in wasn't a plot hole for the remake to fix. It's the whole fucking reason there's even a conflict about Lilo's custody in the first place.

In the original film, the threat of Cobra possibly taking Lilo away and putting her in the foster system isn't just Nani being sad and sentimental that she can't see her sister anymore (like the remake implies).

It's the very real danger of a vulnerable (and heavily autistic-coded) indigenous little girl being sent against her will to live with complete strangers, who may not understand or accept her individuality, abuse her or God knows what else. And neither Nani or Lilo herself have any say in the matter.

If Nani did have a close friend, neighbour or even another relative that could look after Lilo on behalf, that would have been the first option well before Cobra and child services ever got involved. Which is exactly why the original film includes no such character.

Which is where the issue of Tūtū and the new ending in the remake comes in.

If Tūtū is able to talk to the social worker at the last minute and arrange to become Lilo's guardian, then it can only mean that was able to do so the entire time, yet she inexplicably chose not to, even when knowing full-well what was at stake and seeing for herself how the sisters were struggling. And from Nani's evident surprise in the ending, Tūtū clearly never even entertained this idea to her at any point before springing it on her here.

Even worse, since Nani has been forced to surrender Lilo to the state, rather than giving her custody to Tūtū directly, the state now has full freedom to change their minds and send her where and whenever they want, and neither Nani nor Tūtū would have the power to do anything about it.

Which, again, wouldn't have been an issue if this really nice, caring and loving neighbour, who is definitely a good character that we should like and root for, had stepped in for Lilo and Nani as soon as their parents died. But because the rest of the plot still has to follow the original (despite her presence radically changing the circumstances) she just… didn't do that. So now this new solution is too little, too late, and the film ends with virtually nothing changing for Nani and Lilo's dilemma compared to the start of the film.

Nani surrendering Lilo to the state is already a horrible ending regardless of who she goes to, but the very existence of Tūtū as a character actively undermines the rest of the story, and it ironically creates a major plot hole where they were trying to amend a non-existent one.

Oh, and by the way, Dean. Y'know the whole thing about how an auntie or uncle could have stepped in to help the sisters?

They did get an auntie and uncle in the original, but you made one of them irrelevant and you made the other one the villain for no reason!

[venusbyline]

I'm thinking... Aegon and his little sister waiting so long after the birth of their child until they can finally fuck again. Aegon would get so impatient after a time, asking the Maesters over and over again when she will be healed again. And, even though the birth had been hard, his sweet little sister cannot wait for him to fill her again.

And when the day comes... he'll fuck her all day and night long.

⚠️: SMUT CONTENT. female!reader, Targcest (older brother/younger sister), breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cowgirl position, praise kink, underage sex (no specific mention of reader's age tho), labor complications referenced, underage pregnancy, Jaehaerys Targaryen mentioned, Jaehaera Targaryen implied (but she isn't Jaehaerys' twin).

Who could blame Aegon? He was suffering for not being able to fuck you after the childbirth. The choice to behave like a loyal husband was not so easy for a Targaryen prince who was addicted to brothels and to have sex with several prostitutes in a single night. But marrying his little sister changed him... Sort of. He did not want any other woman, none were good enough besides you. And fuck... He was so fucking proud that you gave him an heir. A healthy boy who will ascend the Iron Throne and be a king like himself — or at least that was what your mother says.

Anyway, Aegon was proud of the baby you brought into the world. Most of all, he was proud that you made it through the labor. He could not be there, both because the midwife would not let him and also because he had drunk too much beforehand, afraid that something bad would happen. All he was told after being rudely awakened by Aemond in his drunken sleep was that his son had already been born and you were in poor health.

In the first few weeks, Aegon did not even complain to the Maesters about not being able to have sex with you. He saw how fragile you were and tried to focus on learning how to be a good father. However, when your health was already better and even then the Maesters recommended that both of you remain without sexual activity, Aegon started to practically go crazy. Even you were fed up with it. Six months without real sex was an absurd, you needed to avoid any possible pregnancy during that time, since your first birth had been quite dangerous. Aegon tried to convince the Masters that you could avoid a second pregnancy so soon by just using moon tea or something like that, but you knew things could go very wrong. Then the two of you decided to obey the order, waiting during those entire six months and only getting pleasure from dirty actions that did not involve his thick cock inside.

When the six moons were over, Aegon did not even wait for the dawn to finally lean over you, as if he wanted to claim you a second time. Throughout the day, Aegon fucked you in as many positions as possible, trying to make up for all the lost time. Your older brother suffered for six long moons from not feeling your velvety walls squeezing him, it was no surprise that he was so desperately horny.

"Seven Hells, little sister... I missed fucking your pretty cunt." Aegon growled, his hands on your hips helping you bounce faster and faster, the tip of his cock going so deep it made you see stars. At that moment, you did not even care about the fact that you should be careful, you were already tired of not having sex. All you needed was to go back to being your brother-husband's favorite whore.

With each ride on top of Aegon, your breasts were bouncing, fuller and heavier since the pregnancy. Aegon loved all of this, the sight of your body riding him was always something to be enjoyed, but the pregnancy turned you hotter, the hips larger since the birth and the belly decorated with new purple stretch marks on your skin that were starting to lighten a little bit, like the others that were already turning white.

Also... you were hungry for Aegon just as he was hungry for you.

"Taking me so well... Like you want me to fill your womb with my seed again." His teasing drew a moan from you, which intensified when Aegon slapped your pert ass.

Even though you knew you should not get pregnant for a while, any wise and logical thought evaporated. Aegon and you were slaves for that joint pleasure. "Oh, brother... Please. Please, breed me..."

Aegon smirked, slapping you harder this time before pulling you until your soft breasts were rubbing against his face with every movement. "Is this what my sweet wife wants? Getting pregnant for a second time, even knowing the dangers? Giving our dear Jaehaerys a little sister? Our son's future sister-wife..." He purred, circling his tongue on your sensitive nipple. "What do you think, my naughty girl?"

[amazinglyashy]

Hello, can you do LADS men's reaction to MC/reader working too hard, to the point that she looks tired and drained? She also easily gets sick because of stress. And yes, it's based on me; right now, I'm so tired because of work, and I have dance practice almost every day for our departmental performance while I'm sick with the flu. Thank you 💜

Sorry for the delay, but I wanted to do this one justice as best as I could, because oh man did I feel this personally! Not the same at all, but I get heavy duty chronic pain, and I overwork myself often by choice or not, all the time. Feel better anon <3 I hope you enjoy, and make sure to get some Pedialyte or sports drinks, and rest whenever you can. Your health is extremely important!

Love and Deepspace Li's reactions to you being overworked and sick

Zayne -

He's a doctor, you can't even get into the realm of hoping to hide it from him for long, and you'll want to hide it from him if you're actually wanting to be doing whatever it is that's causing you to be overworked to the point of illness.

He will take a single look at you the first time he sees you once you've reached this point- routine examination, stopping by work to see you or vice versa, running something by your place he borrowed, even just you making the mistake of taking an offered ride home from him due to how tired you are. It was a lapse in judgement on your part in trying to keep this from him, but your beyond exhausted brain didn't process it at the time.

But you sure are processing it now that you've been 'kidnapped' and taken back to his place.

He has already filled out a formal doctors note- benefits of being your primary physician- and sent it over to your bosses and managers. There's no arguing.

"Zayne, I'm-" "If you are about to try a weak attempt at convincing me you are alright, I will accept it as you insulting my intelligence as a doctor."

You're in his bed, under his blankets, probably in his pajamas since he wouldn't let you escape home, and drinking the warm drink he made for you to have after taking medicine he had given you to help with your illness. He'll order food that will be good for you to eat as well, and if it's too late for takeout, he'll definitely be cooking for you as well.

Once you're done eating, he'll make sure you're properly cared for by massaging any tired or pained muscles. If that's your entire body, then so be it. Close your eyes, tilt hour head back, and relax even though it hurts in a good way sometimes, because he's not letting up.

Not until you feel better. No matter how long that takes.

Rafayel -

Genuinely, he's offended and hurt that you've overworked yourself this hard and haven't told him. And boy, is he going to let you know it.

He's carrying you gently from wherever he had found you looking so tired- no it does not matter if you were in the middle of working- while actively scolding you in his arms.

"Maybe I should just leave you there all day, come see you in the evening when you get a bad case of amnesia. Would you like that? Huh? No? Well, then stop being stupid."

He doesn't even want to dare set foot in your place right now. He's not in the mood to clean, and he knows if this is the state you're in, your apartment is probably so much worse due to just how busy and exhausted you've been.

He'll go clean it later, but right now he's just grumpy.

There is something about the fresh, oceanside air that helps your headache though- or maybe it's the light linen on his bed that he would have dropped you on had you not looked like the most frail thing he had seen all week.

He's muttering snarky remarks to you, but they're devoid of any bite due to his actions as he speaks them-

Getting you a fluffy robe to change into, putting something simple in the oven while you get comfortable, working special lotion into your muscles, making you lemon and honey tea, making it more humid so any sinus problems clear and help you breathe- he's being vocal through it all, but spoiling you as much as he can nonetheless.

"I don't care if you have a lot to do. Just- ask for help next time. And if I can't help with your work, at least let me help you relax once you're home. I don't mind you staying over either, so that I can make you feel better. Just promise me you'll do better next time, so I can help you before you get this bad."

Xavier -

He probably stopped by your apartment to return something he borrowed, and you made the mistake of answering the door directly after coming home. You were at your peak of tired, and your head had started pounding for some reason... and didn't you feel a bit hot...?

"Oh- You look- You don't look very good. Is everything alright?"

You can't even answer before he's reaching out a hand to hover in front of you, trying to decide between touching you and not, before deciding on the former. He can feel you're just the slightest bit unsteady from working so you're being scooped up in an instant and taken to the bed you had already been planning to go to.

"What have they been having you do...? Never mind. That's- not important right now."

Takes off your shoes and socks, murmurs something about giving you a massage in a bit, before tugging blankets and plushies around you. He'll leave to let you change into pajamas or something more comfortable, and he'll keep himself busy by making you something to eat or clean up your apartment for you.

He tries to cook you something, he really does try. But he definitely has more talent at talking on the phone to the restaurant he's ordering you takeout from. The pan he tried to use does not survive the attempt.

The takeout is good when it comes, though, and it helps that he gave you some medicine prior to help keep it down. Even if you're not currently nauseous, he's pretty worried about your state worsening quickly.

You won't notice until it's too late, but he's already finding out how to transfer some of your workload to himself. By 'some', it's definitely 'all'.

"No, I won't change my mind. Not until you're better. You're so tired, let me do this for you. You can make it up to me by getting me something in the claw machine later."

Sylus -

"I'm just going to go-"

"Go where, kitten?"

You had made the mistake of nearly falling over under the watchful gaze of Mephisto, who had decided it would be absolutely wonderful to relay the information about it and your current state back to Sylus as quickly as he could.

Which is how you had ended up stuck in the hallway the led to your apartment, practically pinned to the wall with Sylus's hands on either side of you.

That is also how you ended up slung over Sylus's shoulder as he unlocked your apartment door for you and went inside, carrying you like it was nothing.

To be fair, you couldn't do much to fight him off this time except utilize a few choice words. You were so beyond exhausted, and starting to feel pretty ill, to boot.

He's got you to bed as soon as the door is shut. You're allowed a hot shower if you promise him a few dozen times that you'll get straight to bed after. He makes sure to promise you that he'll come and make you get in bed if you go against that promise. For once, you don't want to call his bluff.

You're in bed soon enough, with a cool rag pressed on your forehead, some pain medication long since down your throat, and food already on the way courtesy of Luke and Kieran's special henchmen delivery service.

Lying in bed is like heaven on your sore muscles and aching joints, not to mention the pounding headache you've had since starting to feel sick and missing out on sleep. But what somehow feels even better is Sylus's hands on you.

They're just gentle touches, his fingertips ghosting over your skin to leave goosebumps at how nice it feels, and sometimes his whole hands moving slowly and lightly across your body. He'll massage your muscles later, but for now, he's just focused on getting you to sleep, even if just for a little bit until the food gets here.

He knows you need it.