#& i don't know what to do when they start barking at people & it stresses me out so much & i feel so bad

[aringofsalt]

you are on 🐕🐕🐕🐕🐕🐕 lockdown actually idk what you were thinking adding other WIPs to the list only 🐕🐕🐕🐕🐕🐕 (12 dogs!)

12 dogs 😭 the way this is gonna be like a quarter of the fic lmaoooo

"An...adoption drive?" Bobby asked slowly, looking down at the clipboard Buck had dug out from god knows where.

"Yeah!" Buck replied excitedly. "I was talking to James, you know, the guy from the shelter from the other day? They were full when the fire happened, and we got everyone out, but now they're down to less than half capacity until they can get the repairs done, and none of the shelters around can help because they're also full. So I thought maybe we could help out, get some visibility."

Buck turned on his own puppy eyes then. Bobby would never admit it, but Athena had made many comments about them working on him far more often than they really should.

He sighed. "Fine. But you're organizing it."

—

Two days later, by some miracle of planning and sheer determination—and more than a few cans of Red Bull—the firehouse was full of barking, meowing, and even the occasional chirp. They'd had a steady stream of people all day, and far more of them had actually adopted than Buck expected. He stood next to James, matching grins on their faces as a pair of twins walked away with their mom and a bonded trio of kittens.

"I can't believe how well this is going," Buck said happily. He turned to James, who was already looking up at him, smiling softly, and his own smile faltered for a second.

"It's all thanks to you," James said, gently nudging their elbows together. "I don't know how you got this together so fast. I should give you my number, get you on the board at the shelter, I could use you."

"Oh, yeah, I—I love helping out—"

"Hi, I'm so sorry, I was wondering if I could meet that cat over there?"

James gave his arm a squeeze and went to go help the woman who'd interrupted him, and Buck sighed, face falling as soon as James wasn't looking at him anymore.

"You know he was flirting with you, right?"

He'd been so lost in thought he hadn't even noticed Chimney coming up behind him.

"Yeah, I know."

"And you're... not going to do anything about that?" Chimney asked slowly.

Buck shrugged. "Nah."

Chimney opened his mouth, clearly about to start in on a lecture, but Buck was saved when one of the other shelter employees came in, struggling with three dogs on leashes and a fourth in her arms.

"Hey, let me help you with that," Buck offered, reaching for the dog she was holding before the poor thing could squirm its way into falling to the floor.

"Thank you," she said gratefully. "Billie gets so stressed out with change, poor girl. It's been a rough few days."

"I bet." Buck stroked her little forehead, cradling her gently against his chest. "Hi, Billie!"

She was a tiny thing, practically able to fit in one of his hands, with soft blonde fur that fluffed up around her ears and on her tail. Her eyes seemed to take up half her face, deep brown and soulful and looking up at him with the most trusting expression he'd ever seen. He hadn't been around a dog in years, but one look in Billie's eyes and he knew he wasn't going home without her.

—

"You want to what."

Eddie sounded unimpressed.

"Uh, house sit for you?" Buck winced. "Look, just for a week or two, I know you're still looking for renters and I don't want to mess with that. I can just—I dunno, take care of the house for a while instead of you having to pay the real estate guy to do it."

"How the hell did you forget your apartment doesn't allow pets? Again? Didn't this happen with that dog a few years back?"

"Hoover," Buck supplied. "But, come on, Eddie, look at this face." He flipped the camera, zooming in on Billie, who was happily playing in the corner of the room with one of her new toys. "She doesn't bark, we've been really lucky so far, but sooner or later somebody's going to notice me smuggling her in and out for pee breaks."

make me write!

[berrymeter]

idk i feel like such a helpless cunt bc im not well equipped for social situations At All & i need to be thoroughly guided through everything or i panic & lose my fucking shit & No One Is Willing To Help & im just. hgh. ill go walk into a pit

[aakeysmash]

prompt here; reader going on and on about how they never find someone and bakugou is just looking at them ready to snap

hehehe love this prompt tbh 🌸

"Katsukiii," you whine, throwing yourself on your best friend, who was previously chilling on his couch. He grunts, merely acknowledging you, before pushing your head away from his chest and keeping on scrolling through his phone. You've been best friends since kindergarten, and even if you're both adults now, when you're bored you just go to each other's house to do nothing together. You find comfort in knowing you can keep on being silent together, with no type of pressure whatsoever, and no need to find topics to dwell on either. Just pure, unfiltered and plain tranquility... well, kinda. After a few moments of silence, you start poking his cheek to gain his attention.

"Keep doing that and you'll find yourself missing a finger, fucker," he tells you, side-eyeing you. You immediately see his eyes glimmering. "Look," he says, turning his phone to make you watch a tiktok about a monkey slapping a baby. He chuckles, but when he sees you're confused he mumbles something along the lines of "you're always so fucking boring," then smacks your hand away from his cheek and keeps on scrolling while frowning.

"Find me a boyfriend," you suddenly tell him.

He snaps his head toward you. He must have heard you wrong. "The fuck you said?"

You huff, getting up and pacing around the room. "I mean, you know me, right?" you ask him, looking at him expectantly.

"Damn right I do, you've been pestering me for more than two decades," he answers, rolling his eyes. He gets up too, going toward his fridge to take out a water bottle.

"Then find me a man, since you know what I like," you say, following him.

He chokes on the water he is gulping down and you have to pat his back to make him stop coughing. "Why the fuck are you searching for a man?" he raspily says, glaring at you, hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath.

"Why wouldn't I search for a man?" you ask, tilting your head a little, still massaging his back. He just stares at you for a moment, but when your expression doesn't change he just lifts a finger and points at you from head to toe.

"Are you saying I'm ugly?!" you exclaim, giving him a hard slap on the back. He coughs again, caught off guard, shaking his head.

"I need love too, you know? The few men I've been seeing in the last, I don't know, three years, were all boring as heck," you complain, going back to the couch and sprawling yourself on it. "I just wish I had a big, strong man by my side, you know? Matter of fact, keep that in mind when you search for it, okay?" you continue, face smushed on the couch pillow, looking at his still crouching figure. Then you turn your body around and stare at the ceiling. "I want someone serious who I can build my future with. I'm tired of people who only want to fuck."

"Okay dumbass, but why are you fucking searching for a man?" he asks you, ignoring the sad tilt to your voice, getting closer. He crosses his arms and looks at your face, still standing up near the couch. From this view, he looks gigantic; his bulging biceps are almost bursting out his sweater, and you feel hotter the more you look up.

"Katsuki, do you want me to punch you in the face? I'm not that ugly," you say rudely, recalling what he just said and trying to focus on the words escaping your mouth.

"I did not fucking say that, yn" the blonde barks back, the vein in his temple pulsing. You just huff, annoyed, and close your eyes.

Everything is still for a while; then you feel movement beside you before feeling one of his calloused hands on your forehead. He barely touches you, but you feel his presence. You feel he's here, next to you, warm hand on your face, thumb barely tracing little circles on it, and it calms you down. He's always had this effect on you: you remember him driving all the way to your campus while you were still in college just to curse you out for stressing too much on exams, and it always worked back then too. You lean into his touch, sighing.

"I meant to say you don't have to search for a man, men should be searching for you. And generally speaking, you wouldn't have to search for a man if you just opened your eyes a little, dumbass," he says, softer than you ever heard him being. You turn your face a bit and do as he just said, finding yourself a palm of distance from his own face.

You keep on staring at each other for what feels like hours, his hand still tracing your features and gently massaging your scalp. You don't think you've ever seen him so relaxed. You both get closer to each other, losing yourself in the moment, when-

"You mean to tell me I have a stalker?"

He pushes your face on the couch, hard, before screaming at you to get immediately out of his house. You are thrown into a fit of giggles, and before he can get up you bring him down on you.

"I guess you’re big and strong enough for me," you say, smiling.

[moonstruckme]

hi maeee!!!! i loveeee your new theme and i saw you have requests open!!! i have a halloween idea hope its all right!!

i dont know if it fits remus more (personally i see him more fitting for this) or poly!marauders but i was thinking… u know how people target black cats during halloween season??? (makes me sooo sad its so heartbreaking) my request is basically them walking back from a date or somewhere and seeing a tiny black kitten in a little trap or stuck and its all stressed and they rescue it and reader keeps fussing over the tiny little thing and taking care of it while they wait for someone to come and claim it and she gets the cat little costumes and treats so they decide to keep it??? hope its okay!!!

Hey lovely! I had never heard of this (how horrifying though!) so I looked it up and I wanted to direct you to this article in case it calms your anxieties. If you do ever witness anyone doing this though, please call the police and SCPA (or whatever animal welfare service is near you)!! And thanks for requesting <3

cw: attempted animal cruelty (it's foiled, don't worry)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 608 words

You shush Remus mid-sentence. 

He’s not so much offended as surprised. Curious, too. Your brow is wrinkled as if you’ve forgotten something and you’re trying to recall what it is. “Did you—”

“Wait, wait, shh.” 

Remus pauses for a few seconds while you cock your head, looking seemingly at nothing. 

“Dove,” he says quietly, “if you don’t want to hear about the book, it’s—”

“No, sorry.” You set a hand on his shoulder, still looking away from him. “Do you hear that?” 

“Hear what?” 

“It’s…” Your brows bunch even closer together, and then you’re moving, off the sidewalk and onto someone’s grass. 

Remus follows, because that’s what he does with you, apparently. You go around the side of the house, and then he hears it. A faint, desperate mewling.

“Oh, oh my god,” you breathe, your footsteps hastening. Remus has to lengthen his strides to catch up to you. When he gets closer, he sees you’ve found a cat stuck in a tree. 

Or, hardly. More like a kitten stuck in a sapling. It's small and black and trembling on a branch about the same height as Remus’ chest, which it’s bound to by a thin rope around its neck. The rope looks frayed and loosely tied, like it might just unravel if the kitten were to try and jump down, but he and the kitten seem in agreement that it’s hardly worth the risk. The poor thing’s cries worsen when it sees you coming towards it. 

“Oh, poor baby.” You reach out to touch it. It hisses at you but doesn’t snap its teeth, all bark and no bite. “Did somebody tie it here? Who would do this?” 

“I don’t know,” Remus answers honestly. 

The kitten’s trepidation of you wears off quickly, cautious dark eyes watching as you use a knuckle to rub gently underneath its chin. When it starts purring, Remus coos. 

“Hello, darling,” he murmurs, trying his hand at scratching between its ears. The kitten’s eyes close blissfully, the rest of its fear seemingly evaporating. A trusting nature coaxed out by less than a minute of gentleness. Remus hates to think of what prior treatment caused it to tremble and hiss. “Would you like to get out of here?” 

The rope is tied just loosely enough that Remus can get his fingers in between it and the kitten’s neck, the knot coming undone with a few tugs. You lift the kitten out of the tree as soon as it’s freed, cradling it close to your chest. 

“Hi, sweet baby,” you coo in a voice like spun sugar, light and sweet. “Oh, you’re such a love, aren’t you? It’s okay.” 

Your new friend seems content to be coddled. It curls up in your hands and purrs loud enough that even Remus can hear it rumbling like a heart-aching little motor. 

“It’s so little.” You sound awed, looking down at the kitten with pure adoration. Remus can’t help smiling at you with much the same sentiment. “Can we take it home? Just until we find it a good family.”

“Sure, dovey.” His own voice matches your soft tone. “I think we should. It certainly can’t stay here.” 

“No.” You frown. It’s more than justified, but Remus finds he can’t abide it anyway. He kisses your downturnt lips. 

“We’ll pick up some food and treats on the way home,” he says. 

“Oh!” Your face lights up. “I saw some little bat wings in the store last week, wouldn’t that be cute? It could be a tiny bat for Halloween.” 

Remus smiles and agrees. He knows already that this kitten isn’t going to any family other than your own.

[pascaloverx]

BABYBOY

PREVIEW: NICHOLAS CHAVEZ x READER

Author's Note: As a test to see if this fanfic might resonate with others besides myself, I’ve decided to share a preview with you all. If you enjoy it, please leave a comment! I haven’t yet decided whether I’ll continue writing it. This fanfic is for those who’d love to imagine themselves in a romance with Nicholas Chavez. I should warn you that there’s a possibility the reader might get involved with Nicholas while he’s still in a relationship with someone else, though nothing is set in stone yet.

AO3 link one

PREVIEW

You are utterly doomed—there is simply no other way to describe your situation. As most of your groceries tumble to the floor, you realize you've locked your boss's dog inside his luxurious apartment. What a splendid mess.

"Baby! Baby, don't get upset. I'll rescue you as soon as..." You shove your hands into your pants pockets but fail to find the cursed key. You now remember leaving the keys on the counter right after ushering Baby inside the apartment to fetch the groceries you'd left in the hallway.

"Damn it! I'm screwed, absolutely screwed," you exclaim loudly. Normally, in a posh building full of important people like this, you would temper your voice. But your boss is the sole tenant on this floor—or so you thought until you see a half-dressed man emerge from the apartment across the hall, visibly alarmed.

"My goodness, is everything all right?" he asks, stepping closer with genuine concern etched across his face.

"Not exactly. My boss's dog is locked inside the apartment," you reply, doing your best not to focus on the fact that he is nearly naked, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist, and instead on the sound of the puppy barking. "Baby, I'll rescue you soon. No need to stress. Just listen to my voice and stay calm," you say to the dog, who seems to settle down.

"Excuse me, but did you leave a dog or an actual baby inside the apartment?" The man—who, you must admit, is very attractive—asks in a deep voice.

"There’s no time to clarify that. Baby has anxiety. He’ll get overly stressed, start chewing on himself, and lose his fur. When that happens, my job will be out the window. And poor thing, he’s so cute. Could you please help me?" you plead, trying to keep your nerves under control. Your boss devastatingly handsome neighbor flashes you a roguish smile, as if considering his options.

"Wouldn't it be better to call a locksmith?" he suggests, stepping closer to the door, testing how securely it’s locked.

"That would be ideal, but by the time a locksmith gets here, Baby will either be in a stress-induced coma or have eaten the few groceries left on the floor within reach. So, I’m begging you, emotional support hot guy, help me out here," you implore, your voice edging toward desperation. Your hand clings to his arm in a bid to either earn his sympathy—or steal a moment to enjoy the feel of him.

"That leaves us with only one option. Breaking down the door would certainly solve one problem, but it would undoubtedly create another, wouldn't it?" he asks, as though he already knows the answer—which, of course, he does. Yes, it would create a problem, but you're confident you can have the door fixed quickly, thanks to the connections you've gained as your boss's employee. However, your boss would never forgive you if anything happened to the dog.

"No offense, but I'm willing to take the risk. Please, break down the door and save my day," you reply, gazing into his bright, beautiful brown eyes. He hesitates, but as Baby's barking grows more insistent, he relents. Adjusting his stance to attempt the feat, you suddenly realize the absurdity of him doing this while nearly naked.

"Perhaps you might want to put on some clothes—" you begin, but before you can finish, he’s already forced the door open with the strength of Hercules. Baby bolts out of the apartment, tail wagging joyfully, heading straight into the arms of your boss's attractive neighbor.

"I think he’s grateful for the rescue," the neighbor says, remarkably still holding onto the towel around his waist.

"He's probably upset that I left him alone and is punishing me," you reply, pouting slightly to appeal to the dog’s sympathy. For a moment, Baby whimpers as you pet him, but he soon relents and accepts your affection. When the neighbor, now standing upright, lifts the dog to hand him back to you, his towel slips to the floor. Your eyes catch the sight of his completely bare physique before you instinctively cover them with your hands.

"I believe it’s best if you take the dog while I go put on some clothes," he says, his tone tinged with embarrassment. You stifle a laugh, the memory of the divine sight you just witnessed lingering in your mind.

"I mean, I’d love to, but I’d have to open my eyes, and that would mean seeing your body—practically carved by Greek sculptors—and I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable," you reply, keeping your eyes tightly shut. He chuckles softly, the sound deep and surprisingly pleasant. "Is that your way of saying I look like a Greek god?" he asks, clearly entertained.

You flush with embarrassment, realizing how disastrous your attempt at flirting must have sounded. "Horrible pickup line, right? I get flustered in situations like this," you confess, desperately trying to figure out how to grab the dog without accidentally disrespecting his modesty—or making things even more awkward.

"Here’s the plan," you suggest, "you pass Baby to me while I raise my arms, and I promise to keep my eyes closed the entire time." Determined to maintain your composure, you steel yourself, mentally repeating your goal: focus on the dog, nothing else.

He carefully places Baby into your hands, and you hold the little dog close. When you finally open your eyes, the neighbor is no longer there. With a sigh of relief, you decide to gather the scattered groceries and put everything in order. Once done, you prepare Baby’s special food and, to make up for the ordeal, give him a soothing massage.

When Baby finally drifts off to sleep, you remember the chocolate cake you had baked earlier. Grabbing a slice, you head to the handsome neighbor’s apartment.

"I know you might be feeling embarrassed, but I brought you a piece of chocolate cake as a thank-you," you say, holding out the dish between the two of you.

The man looks at you with a warm smile, taking the dish from your hands. His hands are surprisingly soft.

"I wasn’t embarrassed, just busy," he replies with an intriguing charm. "But I’ll enjoy your cake and let you know—you owe me a coffee."

"Am I interrupting you?" you ask, curious about what—or who—has been keeping him occupied. "Wait, how exactly do I owe you a coffee?"

Your curiosity seems to amuse the man before you, who leans casually against his open door, holding the dish with the chocolate cake in hand.

"The cake covers the rescue," he says with a teasing smirk. "But the coffee? That’s for the striptease I unintentionally performed for you earlier. Seems fair to me." His mischievous gaze lingers on you, playful yet bold.

You stifle a chuckle, tilting your head as you meet his eyes. "I suppose we’ll save the coffee for another time since you’re clearly occupied. But I’ll consider your case, emotional support hot guy," you quip, your tone light as you attempt to sneak a peek inside his apartment.

His home is as stylish as you might have imagined, the kind of space that exudes effortless charm. The soft strains of music playing in the background suggest he’s not alone, perhaps entertaining someone he hopes to impress. His lips curl into a knowing smile, as if catching your subtle glance inside. "You’ve got a sharp eye, don’t you? Careful, or I might think you’re more interested in my life than the coffee."

"Who wouldn’t be curious?" you reply, flashing a playful grin before stepping back toward your own door. "Enjoy the cake."

"Hey, I feel like we’ve skipped a few steps. If we’re going to keep running into each other, it’s probably important that we know more than the fact that you’re terrible with locks and I ended up naked in front of you," he says, stepping closer with a hint of interest in his eyes.

"My name is Nicholas," he continues, extending his hand toward you. You reach out to shake it, but instead, he lifts your hand to his lips and places a soft kiss on its back.

"Y/N," you reply, feeling a little flustered by the gesture. "But I doubt we’ll see each other that much. I’ll probably be fired soon after all of this."

"I hope you keep your job—and your spot across from my apartment. I think I’ve grown attached to Baby," Nicholas says with a grin, his voice laced with an undeniable charm. "And don’t forget, you still owe me that coffee."

You can’t ignore the spark of chemistry between you, though you tell yourself it’s probably just your imagination. "Wish me luck, nudist neighbor," you reply with a small smirk. "And if you ever need career advice, you might have a future as a professional striptease artist." The words escape your lips before you can fully process them, leaving you both embarrassed and bold. Without waiting to see his reaction, you step back into your boss’s apartment, closing the door behind you. As you wait for the locksmith to fix the damaged door, you can’t help but replay the encounter in your mind, a smile tugging at your lips.

[redr0sewrites]

Can you write Vox x reader where like the reader just says like really unhinged things and just like vile things whenever they rage and stuff like the internet could be slow or smth and the reader is just like “IM GOING TO RIP OFF MY SKIN” idk man I’m kinda just self projecting rn like you can right anything with it tbh idk sorry for rambling anyway you don’t have to do this if you don’t wanna

THIS IS SO MEEEEE I LOVE THIS IDEA SM!!! sorry it took me a hot minute to reply to this i have over 70 hazbin hotel requests in my inbox 😭

🥀Cw: fluff, crack, silly vox

when he first met you, vox was charmed by your seemingly sweet nature- that is, until you were pissed

your unholy screech of how you were going to rip off your skin if he cut the wifi again was both endearing and confusing in his eyes

vox would just short circuit for a second, just blinking at you while he tries to process what you just said

once it clicks, he just starts giggling. vox very rarely genuinely laughs, most of his laughs are professional or part of the persona he adopts as the leader of vox enterprises, but when he's so shocked by what you just said, he can't control the booming laughter thay fills the room

he's wheezing and gasping, each barking laugh only pissing you off more

"what's so funny? if you keep laughing i am going to fucking break ur fingers like carrot sticks!" you snap, and vox only giggles harder

after a few seconds, you can't help but notice how adorable his laughter is, and soon you don't mind it as much

once you two are officially together, you notice how stressed vox often is, yet how he seems to visibly relax around you

the batshit crazy things you say, which normally disgusts other people, only seem to amuse him

its actually a wonderful dynamic because you bring some spontaneity and slight insanity into vox's otherwise irritating and depressing lifestyle, and vox balances out the crazy things you say and calms you down every time

you often find yourself searching for new phrases to baffle him with, and for new ways to make him laugh

after vox has a stressful day, he enjoys just listening to you ramble about the most insane things and adores hearing whatever fucked up saying you've adopted recently

vox notices himself beginning to copy your speech patterns. he only begins to realize when he slips in an exceptionally odd metaphor into a work meeting and everyone stares at him, yet his heart skips a beat at the thought

there's something so charming to him about the fact that he's adopting your mannerisms, and you truly make him laugh when no one else can

whenever another one of the vees pisses him off, he always comes to you for advice on incredibly deranged comebacks, and you never disappoint!

he's won multiple arguments by just repeating one of your fucked up sayings and the other vees being too lowkey shocked to disagree

vox LOVES IT when you diss people he hates, hearing you ramble some fucked up insults about alastor made him fall in love with you all over again

"that worm on a string fucked up karen cut bob looking ass- if i see him around here again im going to eat a fucking brick" *cue vox looking at you with the biggest heart eyes*

overall, you are both menaces, but you're menaces in love ♥️

vox lay with his head in your lap, the blue light of his screen illuminating the dim room as you rambled mindlessly about your day.

"and THEN, this fucking asshole tried to flirt with me! ME!! as if he doesn't know were dating! ugh, it makes me feel like i have an entire beehive living beneath my skin. i swear if he even looks at me again im going to lick wet cement i can NOT deal. how can you even work with him? he's such a fucking CREEP voxy, i'm going to cut off those ugly ass wings and shove them so far down his throat- hey, are you even listening?"

you look down to see vox half asleep, his eyelids drooping as his light dimmed. "keep talking.." he murmurs, looking up at you with a lazy smile on his face. "you're my favorite person t' listen to.."

i love the idea of vox with a partner who challenges his very idea of power. he clearly wraps himself in a sort of persona, surrounding himself with powerful people and acting like he's so serious and important. i love the idea of him falling in love with someone who can break down his walls in seconds, someone who can dismantle his entire bravado act and who allows him to truly be himself. this is such a wonderful prompt and i am eating this up. nonnie ur awesome!!!!

[charlie-lec-stories]

A lovely mess // CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character

Summary: Four times Charles overreacted to becoming a father and one he actually failed to react. Or Charles being a mess through the best and most scary adventure of his life.

Warnings: None, this is pure wholesomeness.

Author’s Note: This one was inspired by some stories my own dad and uncle told me about the times they had their first children. Yes, some of those stories are based on things my father did when him and my mom were expecting me hahahaha. Rate: PG

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Every man reacts differently to pregnancy, but the most common response is just simply becoming a mess of a human being. And because of that, Charles, for once in his life, could be considerer an average man. He had been exceptional his whole life: excellent student at school, talented in arts, languages and sports, remarkable people skills and loved by everyone. People assumed that he was going to be an exceptional father too, and he knew he was committed to the role since day one, but none of that made the experience less scary. The monegasque had always want kids, he had always pictured himself growing old with a woman he loved and raising a bunch of little humans. When he knocked up his girlfriend he was definitely not planning on becoming a father so soon in his life, but he was happy nonetheless. His history with his girlfriend was kind of complicated too, her family didn't like him much, or more precisely the fact that Charles' job made her travel around the globe, away from her family all the time. He knew that he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone in his life, he knew that every time he pictured himself in the future, that future was shared with her, but it would be a lie if he'd say that the pregnancy didn't complicate things. His in-laws weren't too happy when they found out and Charles' mother was kind of worried about the whole situation. But Charles and his girl loved that little "accident" more than life itself and they actually never cared too much about anyone else's opinions. He convinced his girlfriend to move in with him and she also agreed on keep traveling with him until she ultimately had to stay home for the baby's safety.

"Is six weeks really that bad, Amour? I mean, maybe you're jet lagged or something". Charles nervously wondered from sitting at the bottom of the bed, his girl anxiously pacing around the room.

"That's not how periods work, Charlie". She was trying to stay calm and not bark at him, but that was a difficult task.

"Then let's buy a test and find out". He got up and started walking to the door when she grabbed his arm.

"Wait! You can't just go to a pharmacy and buy a test!". She looked at him like he was insane.

"Why not?". If there was someone humble enough to always forget he's rich and famous, that was Charles.

"Because you're Charles fucking Leclerc, that's why!". She let go of his arm and ran her hand down her face, exasperated. "The press is going to have a field day if you do that".

"Shit, you're right". He sighed and his shoulders sunk. He could see her shaking, scared and stressed and all he wanted to do was give her answers so she could get some peace of mind. "I'm sorry, Amour, I just don't know what to do".

"Let's call Lorenzo, maybe Charlotte can buy it for us".

He watched her take care of everything: call his brother, open the door for him and Charlotte, explain the situation, decide over test brands with his sister in law, drink loads of water, all while he sat on the couch, his mind running faster than he had ever drove his Ferrari. How could she think so clearly even with how scared she was? What would he do if the test was positive? What if she didn't want to keep the baby? Why was he feeling so sad with the mere idea of the test turning up negative? Was he really ready to be a father? There were so many questions and so little answers. He could hear Charlotte walk out the door and his girlfriend go their room, he clearly felt his older brother sit by his side on the couch, but he just couldn't move. Lorenzo said something Charles never caught, too drown inside his own head.

"I really want this baby, Enzo". Was all he let out and his brother just squeezed his shoulder.

Charlotte came back pretty fast, a paper bag with at least five different tests for his girl to do. The older woman explained the younger which ones were more effective so they could compare the results later. The possible future mother lock herself into the bathroom while the other three waited outside. Charles felt like he waited for an eternity before she came out with the five little white sticks. She placed them over a napkin on the coffee table and Lorenzo set the timer. Now, they had to wait again. She was sitting on the same couch he was before, looking at everything but the tests in front of her, so he sat down and took her hand in his, hoping for the contact to be enough to ease her thoughts. He wasn't exactly the epitome of calmness and the sweat that covered his hand made it hard to grip at. She looked at him and smiled, she knew that he was going to be there for them, no matter what, but she was still scared of what he would think, she still needed to know if he really wanted this. Still, she refrained from asking and simply rested her head on his shoulder, searching for comfort on his scent. She had her eyes closed when she suddenly flew to the other side of the couch while Charles' loud yelp filled her ears.

"What the fuck was that?". She looked around, trying to find what could have startled him so much to trow her like that, but all she could see was Charles clumsily trying to grab one of the tests while his feet barely kept him up. She had never seen him so uncoordinated in the two years they had been together. His fingers had a mind of their own and his legs were trembling.

"Two lines, this one has two lines". Charles, who had been quiet and petrified for the past hour, was mumbling like a madman as he showed his brother one of the tests. In the background, the alarm set by Lorenzo started ringing and they all looked down at the coffee table, searching for the lines of truth. Charles grabbed the the tests smiling wide as he showed them to the others. "THEY ALL HAVE TWO LINES". He was hyperventilating, his whole body shaking and Lorenzo couldn't help but let out his loudest laugh as he watched his younger brother loose the little bits of sanity he had. "CAN YOU SEE IT, BABY?!". He shoved the sticks into his girlfriend's face. "It's a baby! We made a baby! Putain de merde! I'm going to be a Papa!".

"Yes, Charlie! I see it!". She said sharing his enthusiasm. But then she saw him go pale really fast. He walked backwards a few steps and Lorenzo caught him from behind before he could fall butt first on the ground.

"Okay, I think you need to process this rollercoaster of emotions while sitting on the couch, Cha". The older Leclerc helped his bother to sit down next to the now confirmed future mama. There, Charles took her hand and smiled, a high-like expression covering his eyes. He may be scared, but he had never been happier.

If Charles' reaction to the pregnancy was that chaotic, it was a sure thing that the following nine months would be as well. Before the first trimester was up, he had already brought another house to move to, where the baby could have their own room and a playroom. He brought every piece of Ferrari merchandizing he could find on the internet, he didn't even care if it was original or not. Was it pretty? Yes. Was it Ferrari? Yes. Then he was buying it. His girlfriend even went to the extent of taking away his cards and threatened with getting rid of wifi to make him stop. He didn't, took her extension in the middle of the night and kept binge-shopping for his baby at 4 am. He brought furniture for the bedroom and the playroom, and then he found his biggest rival till the day. A rival he wanted to beat more than Max Verstappen: a crib. She wasn't even showing and he was already putting a crib together, or let's rephrase it, fighting with the crib and losing pathetically.

"Cela n'a aucun sens". (This makes no sense). He complained while he tried to attach what was supposed to be 'Part B' to 'Part 3.1'. Why there was a part 3.1, he didn't know and was too stress out to try and figure it out. He growled, he literally growled when the whole crib came crushing down in front of him. "Je déteste cette merde". (I hate this shit).

"Charlie? What's wrong? I heard a loud noise". He looked at the mother of his child and all he could feel was embarrassment. "Are you alright?".

"Yes. I'm fine". He answered from the floor, looking at his lap. He wanted to cry, but he also didn't want to upset her.

"Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right?". She sat next to him on the floor and searched for his eyes, but he kept looking away from her. "What is it, Charles?".

"I-". He tried to start talking, but he was cut off by his own sob. She quickly made him turn towards her, looking for injuries, but he seemed to be physically fine. She saw the tears running down his face and did the best she could to wipe the away. Moving to sit on his lap, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself flat against him, trying to get as close as she could. He cried on her shoulder, soaking her his hoodie and crushing her with his arms around her waist. They stayed like that for a while, until Charles stopped crying. She scratched his head to calm him down and after some time, he did. In a painfully soft whisper, he admitted his fear to her. "I'm going to be a terrible Papa".

"Don't say that. We both know that's not true". Shushing him, she pulled away and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. "Is this about the crib?".

"I've been fighting this crib for four days. Our baby is going to sleep on the floor and it's all my fault". She laughed and for a moment, she regretted it, seeing the hurt in his eyes. She calmed down and pecked his lips.

"Charlie, our baby has barely formed their ears yet, you have more than enough time to figure this out". He didn't look convinced at all.

"But what if I don't?". She smiled at him.

"I know you will. Do you want to know why?". He nodded and she ran her fingers through his hair to move it away from his face, so they could look into each others eyes and make him believe her. "Because you already are the best Papa in the world, Charles".

He won against the crib just in time to catch up with the worst part of the cravings period. They were into the fourth month of pregnancy and the little bump was proudly starting to show. Charles couldn't keep his hands away from it. He was constantly touching the bump, kissing the bump, talking to the bump, even scolding the bump whenever he saw some discomfort tinting his girlfriend's face. In the paddock he practically forced her to go everywhere with him and on interviews he answered every question while looking at her. He insisted on people staying at least ten centimeters away from her and he even took upon himself the task of preparing every meal she ate, just to make sure that it was safe and she didn't get food poisoned. He checked places' and foods' temperatures, chairs' and couches' safety, if her shoes were properly tied (at least 20 times a day), the only thing missing was him wrapping her on bobble wrapping. He safety proofed the every hotel room they stayed in so she wouldn't 'accidentally hit the bump against unknown furniture in the dark'. At some point, she had to put a stop to the madness, specially when Charles' newly-daddy paranoia messed with her cravings.

"Amour, what are you eating?". He asked when he caught her hiding with Lando and Max behind the Red Bull garage, a massive greasy half eaten hot dog on her hands. Lando was opening a mayonnaise sachet with his teeth and Max was feeding her french fries with his bare hands, all three of them sitting on the floor. It wasn't exactly the most sanitary situation, but the fuzzy feeling she felt inside her chest thanks to that hot dog made it all worth it. Charles could swear he had an aneurysm just by the sight of it all. "Where did you get that?".

"Uhm...". Her and Lando looked at Max, waiting for him to answer, since he was the one who brought it.

"Well... It's from a professional, I can assure you that, Charles". The monegasque frowned and Max swallowed, scared, just to find out his mouth was completely dry. He wasn't an easily scared guy, but something about Charles' over-protective-dad mood just terrified him.

"And where's the professional's place? Can you show me?". Max, still sitting on the floor, looked at everything but Charles.

"Oh, you see-".

"It's from the stand outside of the paddock". Lando blurted out, followed by him covering his mouth with both his hands and the three of them heard Charles growl.

"Max did you just feed my pregnant girlfriend a hot dog from a dirty street-stand? YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW IF THE PERSON WASHES THEIR HANDS-"

"They definitely don't, I mean, they don't have where to".

"Lando, you're not helping me, mate". Max advised, not moving his eyes from the fuming Charles above him. Then the pregnant girl decided to intervene.

"Charlie, babe, it's okay. I asked him to buy it for me". Charles then looked at her, his gaze softening a little, but still angry.

"Amour, you know that's not good for you". He walked to her and hooked his arms under hers to help her off the floor.

"But the baby wanted it". Max still followed Charles, afraid of what the future father could do to him for messing with his unborn baby's diet. Lando stayed very still, hoping to make himself invisible. "I was just craving this so bad! And you never let me have this type of food. The baby is fine, I promise".

"Don't do that face, it's not fair". He complained when she gave him her best puppy eyes. She didn't stop, and he finally dropped the attitude. "Okay, maybe we can make some room for a hot dog once in a while. But you have to keep eating healthy, we don't want the little Tifosi to come out malnourished".

"Yay!". She squealed and hugged him tight, the hot dog almost falling from her hand. Charles hugged her back and then directed his gaze towards the other two drivers.

"And you two". Max and Lando looked at him wide-eyed. "This better be the last time you pull off something like this. Did I make myself clear?".

"Yes, sir". Both said at the same time and got up from the floor.

"Okay, go on. And think about what you did". They nodded their heads, Max handing the girl the fries and then walking away with Lando.

"I like you daddy-voice". Charles shrugged at her comment.

"Amour, don't call it that or I won't be able to use it without laughing".

Charles' paranoia got better. He calmed down a little, but then the fear of being a bad father came back. Around the seventh month, already knowing they were having a boy, Charles found himself with insomniac. At the beginning of the pregnancy he was scared of not knowing what to do to take care of a baby's basic needs: bottle feed, change diapers, help him to sleep, and things like that. But as the date of the delivery got closer, Charles' fears shifted to the more existential type. What if he was unable to guide his son through life? What if he failed on teaching him good values and a strong sense of ethics? What if he ended up raising a spoiled kid, arrogant and narcissistic? What if he couldn't make his boy happy? What if his kid hated him? Those questions kept him up at night, turning over and over on the bed, and cold sweat covering his body. He would walk to the baby's room and look at the painting his girlfriend did on the walls, the name 'Jules' written on lilac on a clear sky, over the race track so carefully crafted. What if his son didn't want to race cars? What if he was forcing him to do so when he wasn't even born? Sitting on the rocking chair, he would look out the window, the yachts at the bay clearly visible from there. What if his son didn't like Monaco? What if his son would rather adopt his mother's nationality and culture over his? The dark sky adorned with shinny little dots would look back at him without answers.

"Charlie? Why are you up, love?". He heard his girl's sleepy voice call out to him from the doorway. He smiled at her, his eyes glossy as he fought the tears that wanted to escape.

"Just thinking, Amour. Don't worry". He gave her his best smile, but she could read his real feelings underneath it. "Go back to bed, I'll join you in a minute".

"I think we love each other enough to cut the bullshit, babe". She walked further into the room and stopped in front of him, her big belly at his face's height, and he couldn't help but reach forward and kiss it. "What is it?"

"It's... it's just a lot and it's late. Don't worry, really-"

"Charles, I'm not sleeping until I'm convinced that you're alright". He sighed, and pulled her to his lap. The weight was a little bit more than what he was used to, but he loved that, it made it impossible for him to overlook the fact that his baby was there, with them. He made her rest her back against his chest and rocked he chair, hugging her tight against him and resting his chin over her shoulder. They both looked out of the window and she patiently waited for him to tell her what was going on inside his mind.

"I'm scared. I feel this huge responsibility over Jules". She smiled, loving whenever they talked about their baby using the name they choose for him. "I just want to be a good Papa, but I'm so scared of messing up, of making the wrong choices, of using the wrong words, of leading him in the wrong direction. What if I don't raise him right? If I'm not a good role model?"

"Well, you're not alone in this, Charlie, I'm with you till the end of the line. Like Bucky and Steve. I know that we'll be alright. I just know it". She sounded so sure of herself. He wished he could be that sure about everything.

"How do you do it? How do you manage to always be so sure and composed?". She laughed and he felt the baby kick under his palm, he always kicked when she laughed.

"I've been the least composed person and you know it, Charlie! I break down crying at least five times a day. You've seen that! You're the one who comforts me every time". He laughed softly, that was true, those had been some pretty crazy seven months. A true rollercoaster of emotions. And they still had two more months to go. "I know that we'll be alright because we're already asking ourselves these questions. Because we care about Jules so much that we truly take time to think things through. We are going to be alright because we love our baby and we both know we will always do the best we can for him. We won't let the bad choices from our parents be repeated and we'll make sure to copy the best from them to give to Jules. That's why I'm so sure". She turned to look at him for a moment. "I trust you to be the dad of my baby because I know how great of a human being you are, Charles".

"I love you". He said, feeling a lot better. He kissed her tenderly, and then another kick was felt under his hand. "Thanks for being here for me, Amour".

"Always, just as you had always been for me". She nuzzled her nose against his. Another kick and they both laughed. "Let's go back to bed, Papa".

The two months passed by in a blink. Charles asked Ferrari to give him a leave of absence for the first two races of the season. He wanted to be world champion, but he would rather be there when his son was born. Ferrari let him take his time, but Jules decided to be born at eight and a half months. It seemed like he couldn't wait to meet his parents, because everything happened so fast that Charles had barely had any time to react. They were having lunch at his mother's house, and he was having the best time. His girl looked amazing, all radiant and happy, her belly covered by a cute but comfortable dress, his sisters in law both touching the belly and fighting for godmother duties. Lorenzo and Charlotte were definitely the chosen ones, but they hadn't tell anyone yet, after all both Lorenzo and Charlotte were there for them when they needed them. His mother was showing him little clothes that she had crocheted for Jules and his brothers discussing which one was going to be the 'responsible uncle' and who the 'funcle'. Arthur was definitely unable to be the responsible one, so he was already chosen to be the 'funcle'. Every conversation was cut short when the faint voice of the future mama rang through the air.

"Charlie". Her shaken voice called out, and he turned around to see what she needed. There was a wet patch under her and she was grabbing her belly, a painful expression on her face. "I think my water broke".

"The baby is coming!". Arthur shouted excitedly, but Charles' brain just stopped functioning. He saw everyone running around to grab things, Charlotte and Carla helping his girl out of the house and towards his car, Lorenzo grabbing the baby bag the carried around just in case since the beginning of the last trimester, Arthur pushing him outside and his mother speaking, but he just couldn't move. H was petrified. He felt like his blood pressure had dropped in a second and if it wasn't for Arthur behind him, he would have certainly fallen to the ground. His mother took his car keys out of his pocket and then they pushed him on the back seat, next to his girlfriend. Her hand crushing his brought him back from his outer-body state and he was able to react, turning to face her and running his other hand down her arm, doing his best to sooth her.

"It's okay, mon amour. Breath, breath with me". He instructed her and he started to exaggerate his breathing so she could copy her. She did and that calmed her down enough to count the seconds between one contraction and the next. "That's it, Amour, you're doing so good". He praised her and she smiled a little, her happy expression cut short by another waive of pain. She screamed and cried, sweat covering her forehead and running down her face, mixing with her tears. It was probably the most messy she had ever looked, but he had never seen her as beautiful as in that moment. "I love you so much". He whispered it, but by the squeeze she gave to his hand, he knew for sure she was saying it back. "We're almost there, hung on a little longer".

He almost carried her out of the car and into the hospital the second Arthur parked the car. Then, they found out that she was ready to deliver in that second. Jules didn't want them to keep him waiting, she was brought to the delivery room and Charles was given surgical gown so he could join her. Inside, the whole process was quick, in 30 minutes, Jules was crying on the doctors arms and Charles could feel his heart skip a beat. Wrapped on towel and with the small hat they had for him on, Jules was passed on to his mother, who took him instantly while she cried her eyes out. Charles, still on delay with reality, was trying to process the information. That was his baby, he was finally there, he could finally touch him. The doctor walked to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, Charles couldn't stop looking at his girl and little Jules. He heard a softly "go ahead, meet your boy", and that was enough for him to place a shaking and gentle hand on Jules' head. He ran his thumb over the soft little cheek and the tears started to fall. He felt his girl's hand wipe away his tears and heard her laugh softly. She just found funny that after overreacting about every little thing for the past eight months, Charles was barely able to react that day. He was a mess in that moment, but he was the perfect mess in her eyes. The most extraordinary mess. He finally smiled and reached down to kiss her head, then he looked at Jules.

"I am your Papa, Jules. I love you. I'm so happy to finally meet you".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I hope you guys liked this one!

[ordowrites]

On Your Knees

minors dni / afab reader / sub!diluc / pet play, pet names, orgasm control, light dom/sub dynamics, oral sex (f!receiving) praising, light fem!dom, aftercare (there's nothing really intense in this but ya know)

word count: 1.2k

Diluc is always so in control, always barking orders at people who don't listen and taking charge when he feels things are going sideways. You watch, usually, from the sidelines as he stresses himself from day to day life. You sit with him at his desk while his fingers tangle in his hair and he stares bleakly at the forms in front of him, and it seems as if he's subsisting off of coffee and whatever else can give him energy.

You try to be a good partner, supportive and patient, staying awake with him for as long as possible or bringing him sustenance when he needs it. Gentle goading from his maids is always brushed off as unimportant, he's fine now leave him be. Diluc tries his best to be sweet to you, but when stress wins out, he snaps. Those are the days where you have to remove yourself from the situation and do your own thing. And you sigh because you wake up at dawn when you feel the bed move and him finally crawling in for just a few hours of shut eye.

So of course, your mind, ever-going, starts to make plans. Diluc loves you because you're smart on your feet, you're quick thinking, innovative, and in general, so fun to have around.

"You want me to what?" Diluc balks, pretty red eyes widening as you present him the leather collar to him. "That's -"

"C'mon, look, safe word can be Phoenix. If you hate it, we'll never do it again." You're lucky he loves you enough to indulge in whatever idea you have thought up, lucky that he pulls off at least his ever present jacket and upon a small frown from you, his vest and undershirt follow.

"I am not a dog," he tells you, mildly annoyed. His fingers pull at the collar, even if it’s not tight and it’s actually quite soft around the neck, you can tell Diluc is quite bewildered by this. Honestly, he looks quite cute with his flushed cheeks and collar, all he’s missing are ears and a tail. You make a mental note of that for later - maybe just the ears because he has his limits.

"Oh, but you're going to learn to be one." You tell him with a little shake of your head. “Now, be a good boy and kneel.” Diluc stares at you for a moment, as if comprehending what you just told him to do. “Diluc, I said kneel.”

It's a fight within him, between that pride of nobody tells him what to do and I trust you to do this subjugating thing. With a deep breath, he falls to his knees in a kneeling position and you sit on the bed, peering down at him with a mild look of surprise crossing your features. You get up and circle around him - his hands are in his lap as he knees on the floor, red eyes trained on you.

"Do you trust me?" You ask as you press your front against the curve of his back. Your hands move down to the collar around his neck - thick leather that's smooth to the touch. Your fingers run along his chest, marveling in how muscular he is - how you feel his breath catch and hold when fingers brush against a nipple. Oh, he's sensitive.

"Y-yes," he finally answers, breath releasing and slowly becoming labored as you tease his nipples some more.

"Yes, what?"

Diluc grits his teeth. "Yes, ma'am."

You press a kiss to the crown of his head. "Good boy." He shivers when you pull away, circling around again to be in front of him. You reach down to grab the discarded leash and he eyes you with a small frown on his face. You latch it onto the small ring and give a little tug, a silent command he follows you on his hands and knees.

"We only have two rules tonight," you tell him. "You don't get to cum without permission and you do as I say."

Diluc opens his mouth to argue before deciding against it - he may as well see where this is going. He grimaces as he crawls on his hands and knees, climbing onto the bed as you pull at the leash. You prop your back against the wall as he nestles himself between your legs, trying to get as comfortable as possible as you provide some slack with the short chain.

His tongue darts out, tasting your wet folds - lips finding your clit and you gasp as his tongue starts to work its magic. Followed by lips and fingers that cautiously tease you, tongue flattening as he gives kitten licks and lips that suck at your clit. You groan as your fingers grip at his hair.

Soon, he's humping against the bed - trying to find relief for himself as he continues to eat you out as if you're his last meal on earth. It's messy, he's growing needier by the minute and you're so goddamn close -

Diluc pulls away after a minute, his face wet with your juices, looking positively debauched, red eyes darker with lust. Every bit of himself that he kept in control is gone.

"Please, I need -" he groans a bit as you reach over and gently stroke his erection, the way pre-cum pearls at the tip, the way he looks at you with need and guidance.

"Need what, baby? Use your words."

He swallows. "Y-you."

That's all you need when you instruct him to lie on his back and you climb on top of him. He whimpers as you slowly lower yourself down onto his cock - gasping as he fills you up and he groans, hips jerking a bit. You give the leash a playful, sharp tug to remind him who is currently in charge tonight.

You both take a moment to adjust to the new feeling and soon, he's trying to move under you - desperate to listen to your command but desperate for release.

"You're always in control, Diluc," you gently scold him. "Let me stay in charge tonight, baby." He give a weak nod before finally relenting entirely. He goes at your pace as you lift your hips and push down, willingly giving himself over to you as things start to finally - finally -move a bit faster. He drinks up your gasps and moans, letting out his own noises as his hands move to tightly grip your hips. He lets his mind go blank as he takes in all of you - the how hot and wet you feel around him, how soft your skin is to his touch, the way your breasts bounce - how beautiful you look in this position.

How safe and at ease he feels when your arms slightly cage him in when you lean down. Your eyes are so beautiful, your lips soft as you pepper kisses all over his face.

"Do you want to cum, my flame?" you whisper as he meets your hips again and he gives a little nod. "Say 'please'."

Diluc groans. "Please, please, ma'am-"

"So polite, so sweet for me," you praise as your pace hurries. "C'mon then, cum for me." As he cums, you pull off - his semen spurting onto both your torsos. You gently stroke his cock, knowing he can get a bit oversensitive from his orgasm. There's a soft plea that escapes his lips and you laugh softly, pressing a kiss to the softened cock before moving upwards.

Finally, after showering him with what feels like a million kisses, you snuggle next to him.

"You were so good for me," you breathe as you run your fingers through his long red hair. "Such a good boy, Diluc."

He flusters at those words, pulling you in close to him. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head. If he lets go, his whole world may collapse in on itself - so you let him hold you as tightly as he wishes as you continue to stroke what you can reach of his hair while whispering praises and sweet words until he lulls to sleep.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Miguel prompts you say?? could i request "just...come here." pretty pls and ty xxxx

of course you can!! miguel and reader aren't together yet but they flirt with each other enough to make him okay with physical touch

it's hard being the self-proclaimed keeper of the multi-verse. miguel hasn't had it easy in a long time, so when he has missions like today, your heart breaks for him.

imagine your world exploded because you just wanted a shot at a normal life, being thee world's first anomaly and then the multi-verse gets torn open and you get stuck with the job.

a job that just keeps getting more and more stressful. you'd be barking orders and afraid to get close to people too.

its why you don't hold any of what he does against him- you're not sure if you'd do much better in his position.

this mission had been one for mainly the elites- miguel, peter b, jess, pavitr and hobie- but it still wasn't easy. not by a long shot.

they were all a bit banged up but back in their own dimensions and when lyla popped up in miguel's 'office' - affectionately monikered 'the spide-hole' you'd learnt how bad he was.

"it didn't go smoothly. he's a lot banged up- like a lot. and he's grouchy."

you don't have time to ask anything because the door opens and reveals miguel who looks worse than you could imagine.

his chin is busted, lip is bloody, his eye is blackened and he has a limp. you know all the bruises will be gone in a few hours, yours do the same thing, but this is miguel- he doesn't come back from missions like this.

his hand comes crashing in with a desk and he flips it over despite his pain. "stupid fucking anomalies. tonto desgarro en el multiverso que sigue empeorando."

it's then that he notices you, in a chair near his command centre and a couple holographic screens up displaying the stuff you were working on.

"i can leave if you want to be-" you start but he grumbles,

"no." he hisses as he throws his body into one of the seats, holding his side and you frown.

"do you want me to get the thing?" 'the thing' being his rapture injections. you feel awful asking, but maybe he needs it so damn his aversion to talking about it if that's the case.

"no." it's firm and final but it's still got a little strain to it.

"miguel, you need something. i can get margo or one of the spider-doctors or somebody. as a matter of fact," you pick up your things and make for the door, "i'm going to get somebody."

you don't get too far though. his hand circles your wrist and you stop.

his touch is warm and even though it feels nice you'd rather him be in good health along with it. "miguel," you start and he shakes his head.

"just," he sighs, throwing his head back, eyes closed as he faces the ceiling. his lips move in what you think is a silent prayer. "just, come here." he tugs you closer till you stand in front of him.

"miguel, i can't make you better." he doesn't listen though, instead he lets his hands get distracted with the sleeve cuffs of your suit.

"you're doing it right now," you shake your head and thread your fingers in his hair. "just stay with me, for ten minutes."

[thurio-edau]

SBG GANG MENTAL ANALYSIS

sorry for the delay!

alright, gotta say... this one's a bit shorter. but the next will come like a train wreck i promise😇

Part 3: Ben Clark

oh the sweet old Ben... a kind and loving soul muted away. I'm thinking of inspecting his trauma and his general actions, and give him a diagnosis which I'm sure is canon even. I'm sure everyone who knows the disorder itself is aware that Ben is, in fact, suffering from PTSD.

let's start. first, what is PTSD?

PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, is a mental condition where someone feels what they have previously went through in a past traumatic experience. PTSD is frequently found with flashbacks to the moment, overwhelming feelings and sudden responses. there are two types of this disorder, PTSD and C-PTSD. but we'll look in the first one for now.

Ben has always been a really kind character. ever since the beginning. more of a 'gentle giant' type of character, though we never see him talk. he's soft, he loves to help his friends and never does anything vulgar around them, including the phantom dimension. he feels nice when he gets praised even if he doesn't show it too.

the first time we see him getting flashbacks and his anger issues being visible is when we first see Barron's behaviour towards Logan. anything that includes actual bullying gives him flashbacks and his response is his anger issues unleashing.

in his backstory, Ben is shown that he's more of a shy type of person, but he loves singing. because his tall and intimidating appereance doesn't match his softness, a group of dumbasses try to 'fix' him which he rejects. back when Shane strangled him, is what he gets flashbacks to. it was something that changed his entire life, he had a passion for singing but he never did with his damaged voice. god knows how many times he was hospitalized when he was going around to fights because of his outburst of rage.

yep, rage. I'd classify his anger issues as the 'rage' type with PTSD. PTSD rage makes more sense to me than just normal anger problems. I've seen and lived with many people with anger issues, but none of them are similar to rage. anger problems in general are usually verbal, if you don't make them mad to a point they're all bark and no bite. but of course after a point the violence behind the generic anger issues can unleash (see Tyler)

okay, back to Ben and rage. rage is an extreme condition of anger, the person gets violent and their thoughts are clouded with the rage which makes them not think before doing anything drastic. but he's not very closed off about it either, actually. the time where he accepted Aiden to do the storytelling was before the first half of season one, the gang wasn't even that close.

this means that he saw them as actual friends so early on. probably before everyone. Ashlyn took her sweet time accepting the friendship, I'm kind of sure that Aiden didn't at first (see Tyler, yet again), Tyler also definitely didn't (as said by Taylor in season two premiere) and I think Logan has attachment/trust issues but that's for later. the only other possible person that might accept the group fastly is Taylor but with Tyler's influence so close to her, there is also a chance she didn't at first.

Ben was fine with his friends knowing his past. he put his earphones on because he didn't want to hear about it, or else he knew he'd get flashbacks yet again. I'm thinking that it could be diagnosed too. Aiden knows that it's not just a memory, it's flashbacks to Ben and he covers for him whenever he sees something that might trigger Ben. after learning the situation, Taylor also does the same. they learn the severity of his problems and are all fine with helping him.

another thing I'm sure of is that he's extremely attached to his friends. we know that everyone is close-knit, but Ben specifically. he might not speak but that doesn't mean that he doesn't enjoy their time. he does, fully. which is I think why he/his room was... like that in the facility, without any spoilers.

to say, the gang is more than just friends to him; they're his found family, where he feels like he belongs. they don't judge him for his silence there. they understand his past. they're not scared of him just because of the way he was built and they're not going to be either.

but what about his family?

families are one of the most important part of a character and their backstory. the family is what decides how they will live, act and even feel sometimes. then what about Ben's? where were they during his backstory?

yeah. Ben's rage causes something terrible to happen.

but it ends better for everyone. Ben gets the therapy he needed, starts to live with Aiden, makes the gang his friends and it actually goes well.

his parents?

we meet Naomi and William during Lily's birthday.

yes, Mike, Lily is goshdarn adorable.

first, I think Naomi and William aren't to blame. I think they did the best they could; they tried to help Ben, tried to help him get therapy, sent him to Aiden's place to help himself. then why didn't Ben's story stop?

Ben couldn't control his rage until their house got destroyed and he realized just how far it got. he sneaked out of the house, a lot of people seem to not see that detail. and they seem to be very caring, too.

they're amazing as a whole family, to be honest. even the little Lily doesn't care about her birthday getting wrecked, because she wants to help Ben and his friends. she indirectly helped Tyler extremely well, since the sedative idea came from her in the first place.

Naomi was the first person who brought up the whole 'we-are-seeing-phantoms' discussion and William didn't hesitate to talk about it. Naomi was also the first person to notice the phantoms when the worlds collided for a mere second.

and Ben himself has shown completely zero negative behaviour towards them. and Lily gets treated like a princess -even if she accidentally neutered Ben-

side note here, that Lily also really loves the family too. the way she cuddled Aiden when he died and came back was so cute to be honest.

so I don't think the family is anywhere to blame either. it was Ben who was strangled, Ben who fought, and Ben who saw therapy. the reason why I'm talking about this is because a lot of people suddenly blame a character's family when there's a problem with them.

guys. people with caring, loving families can be traumatized too. just because someone has a happy family doesn't mean they're suddenly over any trauma they live. doesn't mean everything is suddenly okay. it means that they have an accepting place to go to, a safe space. and Ben's family? I think they're just like that. they desperately try to help. help their son, their nephew and their friends. hell, Lily trying to help also speaks volumes in my opinion. their father -dilf no.2 after Mike right here- William was the one who offered the idea to get the kids saved from the centipede phantom. and to be honest? it was pretty smart.

she also tried to prevent Emma from going mad because come on, Emma would absolutely wreck anyone if they dared blame Ashlyn for this. (still I think Jessica has to apologize for being to insensitive smh)

Naomi really seems like a sweetheart to me, I already said what to be said about William in a single very important side sentence and if there was any kind of in-family neglect Lily would also be affected. but she isn't so I think we're good? I adore the whole Ben family tho.

to wrap it all up.

Ben is suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder which makes him see flashbacks and turn into a rage mode each time he is triggered due to his backstory, being bullied because he's too soft. his rage causes a gang to destroy his home (HELLO?? ARE THERE NO FUNCTIONING COPS IN THIS STOR-- oh wait it's america yea there ain't nvm) and his parents try their best. move, get Ben to therapy and let Daniel's side help him by doing stuff he loves. Ben is still trying to recover, but his flashbacks are strong due to impacting his entire life from his voice and make it difficult.

(vocal chords repair by time actually, but he hasn't been speaking for like 4 years so maybe it'd need some voice exercises until it returns to normal?? if it's just vocal chords he'd be alright. imagine if he could talk and sing normally all this time but he just didn't know. it's something between "aww poor guy :((" and "lmao"

but I don't know about voice box, can someone enlighten me on vocal chord damage vs. voice box damage? thamks)

and Lily. Lily is a cinnamon roll. no other opinions allowed.

-i wanted to make a part for Ben and Taylor but i decided wasn't fit here :P-

[la-petite-lapin]

Double the Love | Part Nine

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 2.5k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+ Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, swearing, mentions of nudity, mentions of sexually explicit content, OC has anxiety, communication, polyamory, M/M/F

A conversation and a confession

Simon doesn't say anything for a while. I sit next to him silently, waiting for the words I know are coming. Knowing that they're going to hurt.

I've accepted it. They're probably going to want to move out after this. God - how am I going to explain this to John...

"We thought you needed space today," Simon starts softly, his gentle tone soothing a part of me that I didn't know needed soothing. "We... I've messed up today. I should have shown you more affection. I shouldn't have let you doubt this."

I blink up at him, dazed and bewildered. He's going to have to spell this one out for me.

Like he's reading my mind, he explains, "We really like you, Tali. We didn't want to scare you away after how intense last night was." There's another beat of silence as he glances at Johnny, still fast asleep, and adds, "I think this a conversation that all of us need to be present for."

They like me.

The realisation sets in like a freight train. They really like me.

A giddy feeling somewhere between excitement and confusion creeps in, all but erasing the sadness I felt just moments ago. Simon looks at me, head cocked to one side like he can sense the heavy mix of emotions swirling around inside of me. There's a glimmer in his hazel eyes as he carefully watches my expression.

"Can we... can we wake him up now, please?" I know that it's selfish, but I need to know that this is resolved. I need to know that they both feel the same so that we can move on. So that I can think and plan and mentally prepare myself for what people are going to say.

Oh God.

What are John and Gaz going to think? The people I work with? I'd like to think that I don't really care about the opinions of others, but I do. Deep down, I do. Strangers can be judgemental and mean - especially where poly relationships are concerned. Shit, what about PDA? That's going to draw unwanted attention and...

"Hey, love." Simon gently squeezes my hand with his, scarred fingers surprisingly gentle against my much smaller ones. "Where did ya go?"

I swallow, suddenly aware of how dry my throat is, and how my knees are shaking. "I was just thinking."

"About?"

"About this. Us." When he squeezes my hand again, I carry on, shifting closer to him on the sofa until I'm tucked seamlessly against his side. "People are going to judge us."

There's a pause before Simon does something that surprises me. He barks out a laugh. A loud, gruff laugh that startles me for a second, almost making me jump.

I look up at him like he's gone mad, and he looks back at me, eyes twinkling with humour as he smirks. "You really think that's going to be what they focus on, princess? I walk around in public, 6'7, dressed in all black with a bloody mask on. Johnny's hardly a wallflower either. You really think people will be rushing to judge the sweet, beautiful woman walking around beside us?"

Well, when he put it that way, I suppose they wouldn't.

"I mean, there's always going to be a chance that some people will, but fuck 'em. I've caught enough stares to last me more than a lifetime. 's like water off a duck's back." Some of the amusement leaves his tone, eyes solemn again for a moment as he adds, "But seriously, love, if they don't know us, then why should we bother what they think? It's something Johnny said to me when we first started going out. I used to get so fucking stressed out about people looking at us and whispering shit. Just wanted to rip their heads clean off their shoulders. But it's not our problem - it's theirs."

I nod slowly. It seems to simple when he says it like that. I know it won't be, but it gives me hope. Hope that - one day - I'll be as nonchalant about it as Simon is.

There's a grumbling sound from the other end of the sofa. One that draws both of our attention. "Wha's all this about problems and heads?"

Si and I look across at the same time, meeting a pair of heavy-lidded, confused bright blue eyes.

"...and so Tali thought we weren't interested, and that we were ignoring her," Si says, rounding off his summary-version of our conversation to a now wide-awake Johnny.

"Right," the Scotsman says, cradling a mug of black coffee like it's his firstborn. "Well, respectfully, tha's a bunch of shite." He turns to me with wide eyes, and I try not to look sheepish. "Ye know that now, right?"

I offer him a small smile. "Right," I repeat.

The three of us are still in the living room - myself tucked back into my armchair, and the two of them sitting on the sofa facing me. There are some important matters that need to be discussed, questions that need to be asked, and ground rules that need to be laid. Things that won't get done if I'm sitting next to either of them. It'd be all too easy to get lost in their eyes, snuggle up to their ridiculously toasty body heat and drag them back into their room for round three.

I need to stay focused for this.

"So, what does this make us?" I ask, hoping that I don't sound as nervous as I feel. I'm surprised that I'm not physically shaking.

Johnny shrugs, glancing from Si back to me again before saying, "Our girlfriend. Partner. Take yer pick," just as Simon says, "Whatever you want us to be."

"I think I'd like to be your girlfriend, if that's okay." When they voice their more than enthusiastic approval, I turn to my next question, a nervous smile forming on my lips. "What will you tell John and Kyle?"

Simon frowns at my obvious hesitance, the movement tugging at the scars around his mouth. "Captain Price we can leave to you, if you're more comfortable that way. And Gaz... we can tell him we're together whenever you want. He's pretty open-minded."

I swallow thickly. "They're both coming over at the weekend."

There's a beat of silence before Johnny starts laughing. "Making plans with our friends without us already, lassie? We've only been together for half-an-hour."

My cheeks heat up and I fight the urge to get embarrassed. "John made then plans, not me."

Simon grins. "I think it's cute. It's good that you get along with Gaz; he's a nice lad."

We're getting side-tracked!

I clear my throat, all business once again. "There's something else that I need to tell you."

They both look at me, expressions holding varying degrees of concern and blind acceptance. They're looking at me like I hung the moon.

I know that it probably won't change the way that things are between the three of us, but I'm still nervous. Because - technically - I've been lying to them since we met.

They still don't know that I'm Alex's sister.

"Did Price ever tell you how he and I met?"

The question hangs in the air between us. I watch as it dawns on them: he never did. Regardless the pair stay silent, giving me the space to take a deep breath and continue on.

"We met over a year ago, when he came to inform me that my brother had died."

Simon's face turns a sickly greyish-white hue. "You- you never told me that he was military."

On the other side of the sofa, Johnny's expression darkens. "I didn't even know that ye had a brother." He pauses, eyes locking onto mine as he says, "But... if the Captain came to tell ye, tha' means... he was somethin' to do with our lot."

Si's head starts shaking before I can even get the next part of my confession out, like he knows exactly where this is all about to go. "My name - my full name - is Talia Keller. And my... my brother's name was Alex. Operations Officer Alex Keller."

Johnny lets out something between a groan and a choking noise. My heart is beating in my throat, palms clammy and chest too tight. Simon isn't even looking at me anymore; he's looking at the floor, the walls, the ceiling... anywhere but me.

"I... how? Alex never told us he had a sister." Simon sounds borderline frantic. I try not to let that statement hurt me; try to remind myself that it has no bearing on the love that my brother felt for me. Catching the look on my face, Simon adds a broken, "I didn't mean it like that."

If I didn't know any better, I'd say he wanted me to walk over to him and tell him that it's all a lie. One big, sick joke. That I actually met John through a friend of a friend, or some other totally normal circumstance. Not via a death notification.

"Calm down, Si," Johnny says suddenly, his soft, placating tone cutting through the room. "Calm down and let our lass talk." Blue eyes lock onto mine, offering me endless reassurance. "Carry on, love."

I clear my throat, hands clenching and unclenching into fists at my sides as I will myself not to cry. "Our parents died when we were young, and Alex joined the army when I was still just a kid. He was all I had left after our grandmother passed. And - when he died - John came to the flat to tell me he was gone." I remember the crushing weight of the loneliness I felt in those days that followed, and it brings a weak, bitter smile to my lips. "But he didn't just tell me and go. He left his number and he made an effort to be there when I needed him. He pulled me into his life; kept reaching out even when I was too stubborn to see that I really needed him around."

Johnny frowns, and I can see the unshed tears shining in his eyes. "But... why didn't ye tell us, love?"

I shake my head, my own tears falling freely. "I don't know," I say, honestly meaning it. "I just... I don't know. Maybe I thought it would be easier? So that you wouldn't pity me for it?"

Before Johnny can reply, Simon is standing up - crossing the living room with long, precise strides. He scoops me up from the armchair, cradling me in his big, muscular arms. I wrap my legs around his waist on instinct, burrowing my face into the crook of his neck to hide myself away from the world, letting the tears pour out.

"We don't pity you, princess," Simon says, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. I can hear the sofa creaking softly as Johnny stands up. Can feel his fingers brushing through my hair. "Just wish you'd told us sooner, that's all."

I peel myself away from Simon long enough to manage two words before I'm burying my face back into his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, lovie," Johnny coos. "There's nothin' to be sorry about."

Once we've all calmed down, Simon announces that it's time we all head off to bed. It's gone 11 and not only do I have work tomorrow but they have to nip across to the base for a meeting, so he has a point.

As Johnny and Simon rattle around the apartment, double-checking that they locked the front door when they came in earlier, and making sure all the windows are shut, I start to head off to my room. The room I sleep in alone.

"Um, where do ya think ye're going, lassie?" a voice calls out from the top of the hallway. I turn around to see Johnny standing there, his broad frame practically filling the space as he folds his arms across his massive chest.

I let out a quiet squeak. "Bed?"

Simon appears behind him, resting his chin on top of his boyfriend's - our boyfriend's - head. "Nice try. Get your arse into bed. I'm not in the mood to chase you tonight." With an adorable flash of vulnerability softening his battle-hardened features, he adds, "I want to cuddle."

Melting inside, I backtrack down the hallway and push their door open, hopping into what used to be my bed.

After a few minutes, I doze off, and when I open my eyes again, I'm bracketed on both sides by the warm, muscular bodies of my boyfriends. I try not to giggle like a teenage girl internally, but it does a lot to shake off the remaining sadness lingering from our conversation about Alex.

I roll over, accidentally slamming face-first into Simon's bare chest. Instead of whining about it, he grumbles, "Are you going to sleep like that?"

I blink, pulling away to glance down at myself. After I flopped down onto the mattress, I hadn't thought to take off my clothes. Or find myself anything suitable to sleep in.

"No?"

Simon chuckles indulgently, joined swiftly by Johnny - his rock-hard chest vibrating against my back.

"Jesus, lassie, just sleep naked like us. 's easier," the Scotsman says, drawing my attention to the fact that they are both indeed naked. "Saves us havin' to move wardrobes around."

I ignore him, kicking off my jeans before pulling my shirt off over my head. I lay still for a moment before something occurs to me - another question I forgot to ask earlier. A glaringly obvious one.

"What happens after Johnny's stitches have healed?"

Silence fills the room. It makes me wonder if it's something they've been wondering too.

Johnny speaks first. "Tha' depends, lassie. We'd have to ask Captain Price. An' it depends on ye, and want ye wanna do. But we'll both have to return to active duty."

Before I can ask what that looks like for them, Simon clarifies, "That means we'll be out on assignments more often." I don't think I'm imagining the heavy note of sadness that weighs heavy in his voice as he adds, "Sometimes we'll both be gone for weeks at a time, with no way of getting in touch with you."

As much as I hate it, I've already made my peace with that part. The bit that I don't get is the living situation. When they are here, I'd like to stay with them. I can live in the flat while they're away, but what about when they aren't? It's not fair on Winnie to have all four of us staying here, encroaching on her space. This apartment is just as much her home as it is mine.

"Do you two have a place together?" I ask, more out of curiosity than anything. I highly doubt it, since they ended up here with me in the first place.

Simon shakes his head. "We never saw a need for one. When we're in the country, we stay in the barracks with the other soldiers." A frown forms on his lips and I pull back a little further so I can comfortably cup his jaw. I smooth my thumb along the length of his cheekbone. "But I don't think that's a place that I'm happy with you being in."

I open my mouth to protest but Johnny's hand appears from behind me, swatting the air between us. "Can we talk about this in the mornin'? Some of us would like to sleep."

With a soft giggle, I roll over again and press a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose, then his forehead, and the cheek not pressed against the pillow. I settle my head into the gap underneath his chin, feeling the comfortable weight of Simon's arm come to drape over my waist and onto Johnny's. I can hear the sound of them kissing goodnight over my head, and it warms my heart even more than I thought I would.

Sandwiched between the two of them, I doze off again.

a/n: hi guys! I felt bad leaving you on a cliffhanger with that last one, so here's part 9 :) thank you so much to everyone for the kind words and support, both on posts and through messages, it does mean a lot 🧡 - lapetitelapin x

[clone-anon]

Alrighty, the finale had me growing gray hairs, and I desperately need some fluff...

(Which you can take as long as you need to write it cause I'm sure we're all in the same boat processing this shit-)

Aaaaanywhoooo- it's Chopper (which, is it really a surprise by now??)

Could I possibly get a Crosshair x m!reader who are in a relationship who get a cute date on the beach? Swimming, hanging out, having a good time on Pabu? (We all know that boy needs a vacation)

I am still processing, but this is something I think I can write. As we all know, every clone is still alive on this blog and I have my thoughts about who is actually still alive in canon. That said, @chopper-base I hope you don't mind me replying here instead of an ask so people can see the prompt. I know the gif doesn't totally fit, but he is happy here as he deserves to be.

You watched Crosshair mess with this cybernetic hand at the breakfast table. Of course he knew you were watching. He still had tremors. Losing a hand didn't fix his mind and if anything the phantom pains made it worse.

You crawled on to his lap and gently took his hand in yours. He smiled at you cautiously, but trusted you. His wrist shook, but as you massaged his arm and silently invited him to take some deep breaths with you, it started to subside.

"We should get you some swim trunks," you suggested seemingly out of no where.

"Swim trunks?" he asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Unless you want to go skinny dipping," you added with a grin.

"Maybe not on this particular island. Too many sets of eyes," he answered.

Crosshair had never seen or heard of swim trunks in his life until he met you. He had never gone swimming for fun. It was part of his training as a cadet, but he had never seen anyone just get in the water and play around until he saw you on the beach one day while taking a walk with Batcher.

You got up and took his hand in yours and walked to the shop. Pabu didn't have everything in the galaxy, but there was a nice variety of clothing and he felt heat run to his cheeks the moment you picked up what looked more like underwear than swim trunks.

"You could so pull these off," you said with a hopeful smile. Crosshair was tempted, but he already felt vulnerable enough with this missing hand. He instead decided on a pair of teal and orange trunks that ended about half way up his thigh. You stopped at home again to change and Crosshair decided to leave his cybernetic hand there. He wasn't sure how well the electric components would do in the salt water and he didn't want to be stressed about it. Batcher decided she wanted to come along. You covered each other in sunscreen, grabbed a shaved ice treat to share, and wandered down to your favorite swimming spot.

You got in the water and Batcher followed, splashing and barking. Crosshair couldn't help but smile. How did he get this lucky? He felt he was barely out of prison and he found a boyfriend. A partner, even. And when he came back with a hand missing you never thought less of him. In fact, you seemed more worried about how it would affect him. You held his wrist as if it didn't bother you.

"Come on!" you called.

He strode into the water and stood where you were treading. He was a bit taller than you were, but you used this to your advantage, leaned on him, and snaked your legs around his waist, drawing confidence out of him. He held you and walked further into the ocean until you were both drifting a bit, but not too far away. Batcher doggy-paddled past you as she tried chasing a school of fish and Crosshair laughed. Tears came to his eyes as he held you and watched her while laughing with his full chest. The damn had broken. All these things that were held in for so long came out in that one moment of seeing his dog's silliness and being with you. He pressed a kiss to your temple and spun you around in the water. It was a warm day and the first of many you spend at that spot. For the first time in his life, he was actually free and felt it.

[xsweetcatastrophe]

You Broke Me First

Part 30

"There she is," Cillian said one Zoe answered his facetime. He chuckled at her appearance. "Everything okay?"

Zoe's hair was in a messy bun atop her head, with fly-aways sticking out every which way. She had an old gray college t-shirt with the arms cut off, and a pair of workout shorts. She was sweating profusely and face was red.

"I'm over here making this house a home!" She said, right before Scout started barking. "Scout, stop!"

"Everything okay?" Cillian said, eyebrow raised. Scout was usually very well behaved, and never gave him a problem. Sure, when he was a puppy he got into things out of sheer curiosity, but never bit, never barked, never attacked, just a good, good boy.

"Well, your neighbors have dogs that are out for walks 3 times a day. I took Scout out and met one of them, I tried to be friendly and make conversation, but then realized it wasn't the home owner or the dog owner; it was the assistant to the owner. Then asked who I worked for as if I was an assistant," Zoe mumbed.

Cillian laughed. "I'm sorry Bunny. I hope you're not offended."

"I'm not, but it was the second time that happened today."

"What you mean?"

"When I signed for the couch, I asked how I should sign since the signature line had your name. He said I can sign my name because he 'deals with assistants all the time'. I guess I give off assistant energy instead of girlfriend energy"

"Fuck that. You're not a Hannah that's for damn sure."

you got that right.

Before Zoe could respond to that comment, Cillian spoke first.

"Show me what got delivered today."

Zoe flipped the camera around and showed the couch, end tables and coffee table that were assembled and arranged in the living rom. The TV was mounted over the fireplace and the rug was rolled out on the floor, ends still curling up because it was still so new.

"Cable and internet is coming later this afternoon, I'm starting to unpack the kitchen. Do you care where plates and cups go? Any cabinet preference?"

"Uh, no, no preference," Cillian chuckled. "Thanks babe. I owe you. I don't know what I would of done without you."

"You don't owe me, it's fine."

"Well I appreciate your help. I was stressed when all this was sprung upon me. the divorce came fast, the house came fast, then I had to up and leave for work," Cillian sighed, running his hand through his short hair.

"I'm here to make your life easier," Zoe smiled.

"What can I do to make your life easier?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Cillian smiled. There was about 10 seconds of silence, Zoe thought Cillian was frozen.

"Hello?" Zoe said, wondering if he had a bad connection.

"Why do you do that?" Cillian finally spoke.

"What do you mean?"

"Deflect. Avoid talking about hard things. Or anything ,actually, that's on your mind. You love to make sure i'm okay, pick apart my brain, find out what makes me tick and make everything okay in my head, but you don't let anyone in. You don't talk about anything that's bothering you."

"It's easier helping other people, and besides I don't need help, I got it."

"I got it" Cillian mimicked, raising his voice an octave or two to sound like her. "You know we're a partnership, right? If you want to help me, I gotta help you. This isn't gonna work if you keep closing me off-"

"Woah, take it easy" Zoe interrupted. "Where is this coming from?"

Cillian sighed. "I want to do this right. but I can't do it without you putting in an effort too. I try to talk to you about serious stuff and you're quick to shut me down. Especially with me being over here, I want to do everything in my power to make this as easy as possible and you keep just saying 'it's fine, it's fine' and I feel like it's all falling on me, or you just don't care. It almost feels isolating because am I going crazy, is this not what it seems, am I -"

"Cillian, you're spiraling." Zoe interrupted. "Jesus. I thought you were just calling to see the couches."

Cillian sighed. "See, you think i'm calling because I just want to see the couches. I'm calling because I want to talk to you. Because I miss you. Because I wish I could jump through the phone and be with you. Fuck the couches."

Zoe plopped down on the said couch in defeat. "Okay," she said. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm new to all of this."

"I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to jump down your throat. I'm just tired, jet lagged, I hate my hair, I feel helpless with all you're doing at home, I want to come home" Cillian rattled off.

"How can I make this easier for you?" Zoe said.

"I just..." Cillian started. "I really want this to work. Me and you."

Zoe smiled. "You and me, remember?"

"How do you feel about us and me being here?"

"Wow, this is deep for 2pm," Zoe said, well aware she was, once again, deflecting.

"Yea well, it's 10pm here, and I'm on edge, my anxiety is through the roof, so we're doing this now."

"Okay, okay.... How do I feel about us and you being there....." Zoe started.

Cillian had a point. Zoe always avoided hard conversations. There have been plenty of times in the past where she spilled her heart out to a guy, and the guy either laughed at her or didn't take her seriously. Years and years of getting hurt will make you closed off. For a long time, she felt it was better off this way. Who could hurt her if she didn't let anyone close enough to? Her mother, maybe. But she moved to the other side of the coast to avoid that.

But Cillian... was different.

"I love every moment with you. I find myself missing you the second you leave, so you being over there so far for so long has me scared."

Cillian smiled, happy she opened up a teeny bit. He could work with this.

"Scared? Of what?"

"That you'll slowly forget about me. Out of sight, out of mind. You're surrounded by beautiful women, it's easy to get distracted, I'm easily forgotten-"

"Zoe," Cillian warned. She was doing it again, putting herself down.

"Sorry. I'm just... you know that saying, 'out of sight, out of mind?' It's true. In my mind, I already prepared how this could go if it goes south. We talk every day for the first couple of days, then its every other day, then it's once a week, then it just... fizzles out."

"Well," Cillian started. "You're never out of my mind, so get that out of your head. So you're worried communication will die down between us, and that's what will end us?"

"It happens," Zoe shrugged. "I'm never really a priority in relationships, and even if I am, it doesn't last long."

"What if I have Hannah send over my shooting schedule to you every week, and then we can arrange facetimes every day? That way it's a set time and it's not left for you to wonder when i'll be free. And, of course, regular texts in between."

Zoe smiled. "That would help. I'm sure Hannah will be thrilled"

"I don't care about her," Cillian replied. "I care about us. I care about YOU. I need you to believe me and trust me that you are my priority, and that when all this is done, I'm coming home to YOU. Do you understand?"

Zoe's heart skipped a beat. Something about the way Cillian was talking, she believed him. She was scared to open herself up again, she was scared to trust him, but ....

"Okay," Zoe smiled. "I believe you. I trust you. I miss you. I want this to work as much as you do. I'm sorry that I don't show that enough."

Cillian smiled. "You show me in different ways. You may not say it, but when you were triple checking my packing list on the day I left, or the way you buy me that special brand tea that you can only get on the side of town to keep a box at your apartment for when I'm there, or always making sure I have pickle juice out when you pop popcorn because you know I like to pour it on top... You may not always say I love you, but you say it in different ways."

"That pickle and popcorn shit is disgusting." Zoe said, monotone.

"Don't knock it till you try it."

Zoe rolled her eyes.

"Okay, I'll have Hannah send over the schedule tomorrow morning. I think I'm done filming at 8pm tomorrow, so noon your time. I'll confirm."

"Okay."

"I need to get some sleep. I love you, Zoe. Me and you."

"You and me. I love you too."

They hung up and Zoe sighed.

She was nervous, but felt relieved. This could work. She loved him, she wants to try for HIM. For the sake of their relationship. It's time Zoe was happy for once.

She was about to close her eyes when the doorbell rang. The cable and internet people were here early. Scout went crazy over the doorbell, and Zoe groaned.

"Back to work."

______________________________________________________________

Halfway across the world, Cillian groaned as his alarm went off at 7am.

It was the first day of shooting, and Cillian wasn't feeling his best.

He was slightly irritated, if he would of known he was starting to film so early he would of flown out earlier to adjust to the jet lag. Everything now felt rushed and he was groggy and tired.

He opened his phone and shot a quick text to Zoe, letting her know he was awake and showering and he would text her when he got to set and when he was putting his phone away.

He jumped in the shower, making the water colder than normal, hoping it would help wake him up. Once he got out, he got dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, and as he was brushing his teeth there was a knock on the door.

"Good morning!" Hannah said cheerily, walking into the room. "I have your tea here, and your wardrobe for the day will be in the trailer on set. Are you ready to go?"

Cillian, although annoyed to see Hannah and her bubbly spirit so early in the morning, was thankful for the tea.

Cillian went back to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth, then grabbed the tea and took a sip.

"Thank you," He said.

"Anytime, I suggest we head out. I have your schedule here-"

"Oh, hey, I have a job for you if you don't mind."

"Of course!"

"Every week, email the shooting schedule to Zoe."

"Why?" Hannah said, her voice no longer bubbly.

"Because we're figuring out times to talk to each other and squeeze video calls in, so I want her to have a copy of the schedule. I know you have her email, can you just do that for me, please?" Cillian asked nicely. He was not in the mood for an argument right now.

Hannah wanted to scream. But, she painted a smile on her face. "Sure. no problem. I'll get right on that," She replied, the last part sounding a little too sarcastic for her liking. It was 100000% sarcasm to her, but she couldn't let Cillian know that.

Her phone buzzed, interrupting her train of thought. "Driver is outside. Ready?"

Cillian slipped on his shoes and jacket and they both made their way downstairs, into the waiting car.

Once they arrived on set, Cillian headed to his trailer where he was met with the hair stylist, having to trim his sides since his hair started to grow back.

Once the hair was done and he was in his required wardrobe for the day, he headed out to the first scene. Halfway there, he stopped short.

"Shit, I still have my phone," He mumbled. He was already running a little behind schedule, and the thought of having to walk back to the trailer stressed him out.

"I can hold onto it for you" Hannah said, smiling. "I know it's no phones allowed and I see you more than you getting to go back to your trailer, I can just hold it for you."

"Yea? You don't mind?"

Hannah smiled. "Of course not."

"Thanks, Hannah," Cillian said. "You're a lifesaver. Don't forget that schedule to Zoe, please?"

"Don't you worry Cill," Hannah said, watching him walk to set. "I'll take care of everything," She looked down at the phone, praying he didn't a passcode on it.

He did. Shit.

She tried his birthday. It didn't work. She tried just his year, didn't work. She had to be careful, she knew if she entered too many incorrect passwords the phone would lock her out. What else could there be?

"hmmm...there's no way...." Hannah said to herself, trying the simplest combination: 11111.

phone unlocked.

Hannah smiled. "Men" She scoffed.

She now had access to Cillian's calendar, phone calls, emails... and text messages.

"Don't worry, Cillian," Hannah said out loud, hovering over Zoe's contact, containing her phone number and email address. "I'll get .. some sort... of schedule over to Zoe. Don't you worry."

tags: @lau219 @borntodiemp3 @cillianmurphyvevo @shopgirl6us

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S07E02

Got a bit too long.

There is no way those guys manage to balance episodes better when they have a multitude of issues to deal with than when they have none. Are you kidding me?

Rear Window/Home Alone episode? What crazy genius thought of that? Where was that crazy genius in all the other seasons? I’m starting to think that these writers perform better under the immense stress of having to come up with logical plot lines for explaining character absences.

Before I forget. Dear promo department, just because the episode starts with the end scene (almost end scene) doesn’t mean you get to put that scene on the promo. 

Oh, by the way, did we ever do that? Start with a major scene and go backwards? I love that I just did a rewatch, by the way.

Charlie and Sarah moved in together (and she’s already deciding what to keep for the household, watch out, Charlie), and they just… moved in. No explanation. I guess the house was on offer? Too good of an offer to pass up, so they were like, what the hell. Can this even be aired on Up Faith and Family?

Charlie working the electronics in the new house. Lord help us. The "it's very tough to hear because you're barking" to Rex was funny.

Rex was "like that" with the old house? No, he wasn't. You're lying. Also, he's been trying to find a place to sleep because THERE ARE BOXES EVERYWHERE.

We have a great word for when a house is not yet finished and still looks like a constructions site and there is no English equivalent! Ugh.

Sarah has already started throwing away Charlie's stuff!

Lochlyn Munro was on White Chicks with John Reardon. I haven't watched that movie in some time but I still have the feeling I wanted to punch both their characters there lol

"I don't think she's coming back after that cruise". Well, you definitely jinxed her, Sarah.

I love Rex at home montages so much. And the music.

After more than 100 episodes, we finally see a cat. I wasn’t sure they existed in this universe. Also, Rex's cat plushie is 100% new.

Guns? You guys were shipping guns? What are you, Americans?

I like the throwbacks already. Even though I despise those two characters. Now I'm actually glad that I did the rewatch because while I'd remember Porter, I would definitely not remember ginger cop.

What do you mean the SJPD assigns the password purely based on someone’s name and birthday? Without any random numbers or characters??? I’m sorry but then the shitfest that inevitably followed is on the IT department. Everyone knows that most people, cops or not, will not bother to change their password. That’s why the password assigned must be RANDOM. Jesse, I’m blaming you. You’re the only IT guy in there I know.

Porter. You trusted Porter. Joe, I don’t know what to say, honestly.

Speaking of, what the actual hell do you mean IA found no further misconduct in Porter’s other cases? That’s impossible. Just this month while on my rewatch, I was writing that there is no way they won’t find anything, not with the way he handles cases. Did they even look?

“I look forward to meeting the real Rex”. Ohoho, buddy…

I like how affectionate Sarah is with Rex. 

Sarah to Rex: "Charlie understands your signals better than I do." Charlie: *attributes Rex’s barking to him smelling fertilizer, which if I recall has never happened, and almost washes away the blood off the murder weapon by accident, because he’s well versed in Rex speak* (I’m not mad. It was funny. Although I definitely called him an idiot there. Welcome back, himbo!Charlie.)

Hey, we got Charlie on his bike! On the seventh season.

I wrote a lot of things on my rewatch, most I’ve already forgotten. One thing I remember writing, was that if there are two cases that start as separate, they will magically connect at some point in the episode in almost every crime show. I feel like this show lives to prove me wrong.

Pet peeve. Jesse has his finger on the trigger the entire time during the arrest scene. It is 2025. Why did they bother to teach Justin Kelly the proper stance and didn’t bother to tell him that the index goes on the side of the frame of the firearm when they have to shove a camera on his face and arm. I'm not mad at the actor, by the way, it's not his job to know, that's technical stuff. What’s weird is that I’ve seen 100+ episodes of Hudson and Rex (102 now) and I think John Reardon has never done this? And I think that because I’d have reacted like that. In fact, I remember pointing out that he did hold it properly numerous times. So, silly me, I thought they had someone to tell them about stuff like that, at least for the main characters.

They remembered police vests! I might shed a tear.

You cannot set up a Home Alone scene and put dramatic music. Or, I guess you can, but I will still laugh. It was funny. I know that realistically, you can’t put on something like a Benny Hill music there because the entire scene will eventually lead to finding the body, but that part will be funny no matter what.

Did anyone think that something was going to happen to Charlie’s bike while on the stint? Because I did.

I’m glad that Rex turned out to be goading Arnold when he was holding the meat tenderizer and that he had already set up traps in the house because in the promo it seemed like an idiotic move. Yes, he’s a dog, but he’s a superdog and I’m used to him being smart.

The sheer amount of plush toys that Rex has... Oh. My. God. I think they moved to have more space for his plush toys, actually.

Charlie: *accusatorily* "Why is there blood on your tenderizer?" Oh my god, don’t pull out your handcuffs yet, Detective!

Thank god Rex thought to throw the paint on Arnold because it would take Charlie and Sarah another episode to figure it out, with the way they were going.

"She was gonna leave me". And... what? Now you ruined both your lives. Good job, shithead.

They're worried about the impression they made on their new neighbors? What about their old neighbors who turned up as murderer and victim?

Since when are Charlie and Sarah such proud Newfies to have a Newfoundland flag up?

Easter egg: Felipe Rodriguez's name is on the "For Sale" sign.

Yes, John Reardon’s reduced screentime is noticeable. And I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit that I missed Charlie and Rex’s partnership in this episode, especially following a Charlie/Rex focused season. But it is what it is. It’s also good to recognize it and to be a bit more appreciative of what he has offered in all these years to the show. On the other hand, we get to see more of Sarah, Joe, and Jesse. I know not everyone is tuning in for that, yes, the show is called Hudson and Rex. Well, tough. And I'd find it difficult for anyone to try to criticize how this season's episodes are structured without sounding like an asshole, for many reasons.

Promo: Per IMDb, there's an episode that doesn't credit John Reardon at all. I don't really see Charlie in this promo so it might be that one (although that's supposed to be the bees episode and I also don't see bees, there's only mention of oyster farms). And I'm not sure I even see Diesel in this promo, although I see Rex. Ah, the sadness of not being 10 years old anymore. They can't change dogs without me noticing.

[crsssie]

from one admirer to another : white day?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear Christmas,

PARIS??? Ah, je suis allée l'année dernière, mais c'était pour les vacances. Ah... Ville de l'amour... I'm kidding. I went last year for vacation. It was nice. I think going to Paris for work would be... idk. I'm sure you can get away with some Spanish, though. My friend was talking about how it was somehow more crowded than usual this year. (She went again... WITHOUT ME)

The postcard is so cute... Anyways, here's a polaroid I got of Sesame Bun in exchange. It was finally bright enough for her to register, and she's so cute it's CRIMINAL!!! AUGHHHHH my sweet baby. Sorry, since everyone's in Paris, I haven't been getting any bookings at all which is nice but I've been so bored at home it's almost crazy. Maybe I should reread okra's fic... or write something myself. Why do I only write when I'm like stressed as hell with no time??? Boo.

Anyways, my friend and I's shipment of asian snacks arrived, so I'm mailing a package of an assortment of snacks. You can share if you have other people in your airbnb. I seldom hear about models in airbnbs, though... why not a hotel again?

Anyways, if someone hits on you, you can tell them you're seeing someone or something. It doesn't hurt to be a little delusional. Just... don't let that fester into reality and actually go insane and think you're dating, alright? Stalking is only ever somewhat cute when it's a fictional character.

The phrase... "J'ai une petite amie" should work. If you have no idea how to say that, it's "zhay yune peutit ahmi" and if you can't pronounce that either, just google it. French is really just the more mouth-closed cousin in terms of language when it comes to Spanish. Italian is the open-mouthed brother. It's an interesting trio. Also, did you know Paris Fashion Week started in 1973?? Crazy if you ask me.

Hope you like the snacks! scrambled eggs

You package everything quickly and swiftly, paying for express shipping, and once that's done, you head downtown to have a day to yourself after dropping off the box. You need to touch some grass, touch the sea, experience nature, and catch up with your vitamin D.

The sun is good enough, lying in the middle of the park and soaking up the sun, sound of cars and other people chattering behind you. You're glad almost no one celebrates White Day in the States. You hear someone chatter about receiving flowers, but that's the extent of it. Beautiful day out, beautiful sun, absolutely gorgeous—

You squint at the sudden lack of sunlight and the sound of panting.

"Sunshine!" A girl chases after the dog that's decided to just hop up to you, and you blink.

"Is that your name?" You ruffle its fur, laughing as the dog barks an affirmative. "Oh, baby, you're so cute!"

The dog does a couple of laps around you, and you laugh as its owner runs up.

"I'm so sorry! He rarely does this, I promise." She heaves.

"...Claire?" You raise a brow. "You have a dog?"

"Oh! Oh my god!" She gasps as she recognizes you. "No, I'm dogsitting for one of our models in Paris right now. He's not mine."

"Oh, well he's quite friendly."

"Not often." She frowns. "He was throwing a fit this morning when I was trying to get him out for a walk, and I see him pretty often."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." She pauses.

"I'm down to take care of him if you want?" You raise a brow. "Or, I can hang out with you when you have to dogsit? I have no shoots lately since everyone's in Paris."

"That would be nice." She mumbles. "I don't have anything either, so I've just been dogsitting."

"Sunshine, was it? Cute little thing." You give the dog a good pat. "You want me to babysit? I'll take you out on walks. Hm? Does that sound good?"

The tail wagging seems to indicate something along the lines of an agreement.

"Claire?"

"I'm fine if you do. I'd be glad, actually." She mumbles. "I'll just text his owner. Do I have your number?"

"I think you do? Feel free to text me."

"Mm." Claire checks for your number, nodding. "I walk him every day at 10am here. See you tomorrow?"

"See you." You grin.

prev letter : masterlist : next letter

[cookie-crumblr]

G/N! Royal Reader × Yandere Prince OC

If the Crown fits👑✨

Part 1, 2~

His Info 🕯️📜

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

Synop: You are a royal, expected to marry the realms’ crown royal. You don't like him at first but he wins you over, yada yada~ It's SMUT✨

CW: GN! Reader, no bodily or genitalia descrips for reader, arranged marriage(more so encouraged), i don't think any for this part????? lemme no! love y'all darlings! Short part!!!

"But father, you can't truly expect me to marry that-”

"You will hold your tongue, child.” The tall man interrupts. “and you will marry Prince Kastriot." He slams down his gilded cane so that it bounces back up to his grasp. As he storms out, the queen, your mother, flits in like a six foot three butterfly that more than aced her elegance training.

"Now, how you go about it, darling... Just don't do anything I wouldn't have done," she kisses your forehead.

"Mother... You assassinated an entire retinue comitatus to get to father.” You roll your eyes.

"I said what I said." she dainty wiggles her fingers as a wave while she departs from your bedroom's antechamber.

You fall onto the plush furs covered sofa, the fireplace across from you crackles, usually soothing, are far too loud at the moment. You're grating your teeth when your pet fox bounds up to you.

You let out the air you hadn't realized you were holding. How can you be stressed while henry is here?

You can't.

You scritch his chin, his leg kicks the air signifying you're on point.

*We should get some rest, Henry, it's my coming out tomorrow." You sigh and pat his muzzle affectionately.

Later~

"The moon's still out, Henry, it's fine," You can almost hear the fox saying you need sleep through his wines.

You're still up.

Unable to sleep, you started sifting through most recent political setbacks of your kingdom. People need liberated here, more housing there, while the year's social season starts.

You glance out the window, and instead of glittering blackness, you are greeted with the deep tell tale pink and orange slash across the horizon.

"Oh gods!! Now!?" You grab a thick, old tome, and fill it with some important receipts, then slam it shut, stuff it into your satchel, and rush out of your father's office.

You're retainers rush around the room with an undeniable vibrancy. Everyone loves the social season...

But your stomachs in knots.

You aren't "being forced to marry Prince Kastriot, but you are definitely being forced to marry him.

You don't even know the man! You always had the typical dream every royal shares... To marry for love.

But like with most royals, that dream is squashed like insects beneath the boots of your parents.

You zone back in when some one pinches you as they tie a ribbon, their face is twisted in absolute horror and it confuses you.

"What’s the matter, Eliza? You inspect her further, hoping she's unharmed.

“Y-you know my— I’m sorry, I pinched you... Your royal highness”

You almost bark out a laugh but with your own training you manage to keep it fully hidden. "Oh, my, uh, listen, you don't have to worry too much here, it's not even in a visible place, let's move along please,”

You raise your arms for the other retainers and courtiers.

She looks relieved as she gets back to tying and fastening little bits and pieces of your outfit.

You stifle an overwhelmingly strong yawn.

Fuck.

Your second wind is already dying out, and it's not even time for brunch and touring the park.

"What is the attack plan for the day, darling?" Your mother asks politely, between small sips of her tea.

"Mom, No." You go to stand it's almost time to prepare for the tour anyway.

She predictably stops you, but just briefly, "Do take care, your highness."

You roll your eyes with a groan.

Henry trots along, happily trailing you. Tongue lolling and tail wagging like a dog's.

It's almost a picture perfect day really.

But...

Where's your father?

Presentation Time~

Now you know where he was, because regardless of alphabetical order you are in the last place.

Most likely so that you have the optimal chance to leave a lasting impression.

They'll be tired and bored by then, If you want to go along with it you should be exciting and flamboyant, but be careful to not overdo it, this is a proper event in from of the two kings of kings, and their son, after all.

Then again…

You could also try and sabotage your presentation to court… It might possibly ruin your chances with the crown prince… That would save you from marring someone you don’t know, but that would also bring forth your kingdom’s downfall.