#adding this here but the other example this friend gave is that I always know about mcyt drama

[rat-rosemary]

Something I have been feeling but just figured out in the shower

I hate the concept of "chronically online"

It was getting long so, under the cut o7

I do understand it's use when it's to talk about people who have lost grasp of reality, normally because they're stuck in an online bubble who exclaims that certain things that aren't really issues are the end of the world and incentivese that person to create harmful habits and act in a, for a lack of better term, bad manner

But most times it's just... a person engaging in a community

I say this because a friend of mine called me chronically online, and when I asked them why I was chronically online their example was "Well, you know what the Mandela effect is"

And yes, I do. But it feels wrong that that would make me Chronically Online, because it implies that there is something wrong with me knowing that.

And I know about it from one random post from years ago, but also from the Mandela Catelogue, which a lot of people here must know because it's the biggest analogue horror series of recent years

And... Idk, it leaves a sour taste in my mouth to imply that there's something wrong with me knowing those things

Is it wrong of me to engage in midia? To watch and enjoy indie series?

Or is it wrong of me to be on an in-joke? Have I lost track of reality because I know what "loss" is?

Or, is it wrong of me to engage in niche online communities? Have I lost sense of reality because I know and can tell you about the Onegaverse? I can also tell you about banana cloning and why banana plantations are so fragile when it comes to disease. Does that make me Chronically On-farm?

In the end I feel like most times Chronically Online it's just used as a new way to shame people who engage in fandoms, like you can't have fun with people who enjoy the same thing as you and know this group's jokes without being wrong and out of touch

Resumed: I think Chronically Online is just a new way to shame people and call them Nerds and Geeks and Freaks for engaging in their hobbies

[clockwayswrites]

Bird NOPE, no thank you. Part 12

masterpost

“So, what’s the verdict, doc?” Danny asked. He was trying really hard to keep his tone light and not fidget. Mostly because when he fidgeted the wings moved and then he remembered that he had wings.

He really, really wanted an answer to the wings thing.

“Well, Phantom,” Frostbite said as he continued to look at the data, “your status as a halfa continues to bring about most interesting developments at the most interesting pacing!”

Danny groaned. He didn’t want to be interesting. There had been enough of being interesting in his lifetime already. Couldn’t he just have a calm rest of his life? Couldn’t this all of these ‘interesting developments’ wait until he was properly dead?

Danny took a deep breath so that he didn’t end up snapping at Frostbite. “Okay, right. What sort of developments are we talking about here? Because wings seem pretty unusual to me, even among ghosts.”

“Oh, yes, certainly. Fundamentally such a change, if one is to change, shouldn’t come so early and certainly not before other more common physical developments,” Frostbite said, rubbing at his chin with his icy claws. “At least not based on what we know of human ghosts.”

Danny rubbed at his face. The wings shifted. “Frostbite, I get that this is all very interesting to you, but I need you to explain things, please.”

Frostbite gave a little huff of air. “If you had attended the lectures as I recommended—”

“I can do that when I’m dead.” It was an old discussion between them at this point.

“Phantom,” Frostbite said kindly, “you are already dead.”

“And I am still alive!” Danny snapped, his patience frayed. The wings flaring out The tips brushed the edges of the walls. “I am still alive! I have eternity to learn about being dead but I only have one life. I only have one life, Frostbite, and I’m already spending half of it dead. Just… just let me try and live it as much as I can, please?”

“… of course, Phantom. I am sorry, friend. I forget what it’s like to have things be… fleeting.”

“I know, Frostbite,” Danny said, deflating as his anger extinguished. The wings folded tight against his back, a heavy weight pulling his shoulders down. “I know. Just, break it down for me, okay? I’ll sit in on all the lectures you want when I’m fully dead, I promise. Just for right now, explain to me what you can? I need to know why I have these things on my back.”

Frostbite gave a solemn nod and pulled up a stool to sit down on. “Human ghosts especially are very mutable. This is little surprise, really, with how mutable living humans are. Even though as dead we are largely stagnant, humans still often find their way to change. Personally I suspect that even as ghost, humans need the change to avoid Fading. You’ve seen these features in many of your friends and rivals: colored skin, fiery hair, exaggerated features. These are all things that you halfas seem to lack. My assumption has always been that it is your living half that keeps your features grounded in, while not reality, a more fixed visage.”

“Plasmius’ hair smolders some these days,” Danny pointed out.

“It does. The hair is often one of the first changes and Plasmius is both an older ghost than you, but also a much older human.” Frostbite paused before adding with a wry smile. “He is also much more fiery in nature than you are.”

That made Danny give a soft snort of amusement. “Okay so changes are expected, got it. I guess some go further? Like Skulker?”

“He is certainly an example of that. Spectra another. By all reason these changes can range from wish fulfillment to the effects of one’s insecurities. The longer one has been dead and the larger part those feelings play in someone’s making, the more likely changes are,” Frostbite explained. “Though there has yet to be any clear rhyme or reason to much of it. I personally believe the less fulfilled a ghost is, the more that they will change in an attempt to bring that part of themselves to peace.”

“Skulker needing to kill big game to soothe over feeling little and insignificant made him actually tiny and at the same time into a literal killing machine, right, got it,” Danny said. “And I guess that’s why Plasmius still looks like he’s just brushing forty. He was always vain. But Frostbite, I don’t want wings.”

“No, but you have always been… exceptional, Danny Phantom,” Frostbite said somberly. “Other ghosts master one or two skills, you master any you are exposed to. Other ghosts grow slowly, you grow by leaps and bounds. At first I thought this might be part of being a halfa, but we do not see the same growth in Plasmius and Dani. Plasmius is changing at a relatively normal rate and Dani, while advanced at first due to her creation, has stagnated quickly.”

Danny kept his eyes on his hands. He felt like he was fourteen again, scared and uncertain. “Why am I different?”

“I do not have the why, but I believe that the because is that you are destined, in time, to become an Ancient, or at least something akin to one.”

It was good that Danny didn’t need to breathe right then, as he was very sure he couldn’t if he tried.

“…an Ancient?”

Frostbite nodded. “Or something akin to one.”

Danny bowed over and buried his face in his hands. The wings responded and came up to curl around him as if trying to shield him from the world behind the oil slick feathers.

It made Danny want to rip them off.

“If nothing else, Ghosts are beholden to symbolism,” Frostbite said, his words a grounding rumble. “Ancients more so than the rest. The wings mean something, Phantom, even if you are unsure what. Answers will come.”

“I hate waiting,” Danny said, mostly just to be pedantic. He was allowed. He’d grown new limbs for fuck’s sake.

Frostbite rested a gentle hand on Danny’s back, right between the wings.

---

AN: Danny is having a hard time of it this post! Things will get better though. I am also having a bit of a hard time of it, so I'm sure there are many mistakes, but that's okay.

Stay delightful, darlings!

[its-avalon-08]

Could you write a story where the reader is an F1 reporter who gets along well with everyone? She’s a close friend, and everyone considers her like a “sister” (or maybe even more for some… I don’t know, let me be delulu here!) and when she gets pregnant, they all become super protective and take extra care of her. For example, if she’s struggling with the heat, they make sure she’s comfortable. Thank you!

golden child of the paddock (all drivers)

✦ pairing - all drivers x female!reader (platonic), carlos sainz x female!driver (non platonic)

✦ genre - protective drivers, romance

The first time Y/N stepped into the F1 paddock as a young, starry-eyed reporter, she felt a blend of excitement and nerves. She was new to the sport, young, and a little out of her depth, but she knew her passion for racing and her natural curiosity would be enough to keep her going. Still, when she looked around at the towering motorhomes, the thrumming of engines, and the throng of seasoned journalists, it was hard not to feel like she was in over her head.

"First day on the job?" a voice came from her side. She turned to see none other than Daniel Ricciardo, grinning with that trademark mischievous smile. He’d noticed her as she was nervously adjusting her press badge.

"Uh, yeah," she admitted, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "Guess it's pretty obvious."

Daniel laughed and gave her a friendly nudge. "You’ll be fine. Just stick around us drivers; we’re way more fun than those old journos anyway."

Just then, a few other drivers came over, drawn by the new face in the crowd. Lando Norris was quick to introduce himself, already full of playful questions.

"So, Y/N, are you here to keep an eye on me?" he teased, giving her a wink. "Because, let’s be honest, I’m the only interesting one on the grid."

"Right," Y/N said, unable to help the laugh that escaped. "I’ll try to keep my focus on you, Lando."

Max Verstappen raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "Good luck with that. But hey, if you ever want the real story, you know who to ask."

Y/N quickly felt herself relaxing as the drivers bantered with her, making her feel more at home. Soon, the entire paddock was buzzing with news of the young, friendly reporter. And the drivers? Well, they seemed determined to keep her close.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N found herself almost part of the F1 family. She’d interview the drivers in the press pen, and somehow, every single one of them found a way to add a bit of personal advice or a subtle check-in.

"Did you eat today?" Lewis Hamilton asked her once, holding out an extra protein bar during a post-practice interview.

"Oh, I… yeah, I grabbed something earlier," she stammered, a little caught off guard.

He nodded, handing her the bar anyway. "You’re going to need the energy. Trust me. This job doesn’t slow down."

Even Sebastian Vettel would occasionally pause to check in on her. Once, he found her frowning at her notes during a practice session. "Don’t worry too much about getting every detail perfect, Y/N," he said kindly. "You’re doing great. Just be yourself—that’s what people connect with."

"Thanks, Seb," she said, feeling a bit of relief wash over her. "I guess I’m just… I don’t want to mess up."

Seb gave her a reassuring smile. "You won’t. Just remember, we’re all here to help if you need it."

Then, there was Carlos Sainz. Unlike the others, his way of protecting her was a bit more… personal. The first time she interviewed him, he was warm and polite, but as the weeks passed, his demeanor shifted ever so slightly. He’d always look at her with this glint in his eye, his smile lingering a second longer than necessary.

"Amor," he greeted her one morning, his Spanish accent adding a warmth to the word that made her cheeks heat up. "You’re looking stressed. Are they working you too hard?"

She blinked, feeling a little flustered. "Carlos, I’m fine, really. Just part of the job."

Carlos tilted his head, giving her a small, teasing smile. "Maybe. But if you need a break, you let me know, sí? Can’t have you running around too much."

The way he looked at her, the gentle tone of his voice, and the pet names—amor, cariño—all of it made her feel a little thrill each time they spoke.

As the season continued, it became clear to everyone in the paddock that Y/N was something special. Not just another reporter but someone who cared about them, respected them, and brought a certain brightness with her wherever she went. And as they got closer, the drivers each took on their own version of ‘big brother’ with her.

One afternoon, she was struggling with some heavy equipment when Pierre Gasly spotted her and practically sprinted over.

"Whoa, whoa, no way, Y/N. We’re not doing this," he said, taking the bag off her shoulder. "You’re not carrying anything if we’re around, okay?"

"Pierre, I can handle it, seriously," she tried to argue, but Pierre just shook his head.

"Not happening. You’re stuck with all of us now, so get used to it."

She had barely gotten over Pierre’s chivalrous intervention when she felt someone tap her shoulder. Turning around, she found Charles Leclerc standing with a concerned frown.

"Y/N, I saw you trip on the stairs earlier. You didn’t hurt yourself, right?"

She laughed, brushing it off. "I’m fine, Charles. Just a little stumble."

He crossed his arms, clearly not convinced. "Alright, well, just… watch your step, okay?"

Everywhere she went, there seemed to be a driver looking out for her. They’d bring her water bottles when it was hot, extra snacks when she looked tired, and Carlos, of course, was always there to check on her, calling her mi vida and making sure she never felt alone.

One evening, after a particularly long day, Carlos found her sitting on a low wall by the track, staring out over the circuit, lost in thought.

"Mind if I join you, cariño?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Not at all," she smiled as he sat beside her.

They sat in companionable silence for a while before Carlos spoke. "You know, everyone here thinks of you as a sister."

Y/N laughed. "Yeah, I’ve noticed. I can’t even carry my own things anymore!"

Carlos chuckled, his fingers brushing her arm. "It’s because we care about you. And some of us…" He paused, his gaze turning serious. "Some of us more than others."

Her heart skipped a beat as she looked at him. "Carlos…"

He gave her a shy smile, something rare for the usually confident driver. "I just want you to know, Y/N. You’re not alone here."

She nodded, a soft blush spreading across her cheeks. "I know. Thanks, Carlos."

Just then, Max passed by, smirking. "Hey, Carlos, not hogging Y/N, are we?"

Carlos shot him a look. "Can’t a man have a moment, Max?"

Max grinned, winking at Y/N. "Don’t worry, Y/N. If he’s bothering you, just let us know."

As Max walked off, Carlos rolled his eyes, but his hand found hers, squeezing gently. "They’ll never leave you alone now, mi amor. Better get used to us all."

Y/N smiled, looking out over the track, feeling for the first time that she truly belonged. Surrounded by a family of drivers, each one ready to support, protect, and care for her, she knew this would be the beginning of something wonderful.

--

It was the last night of the race weekend, and the paddock was almost deserted. Only a few lights remained on, casting a soft glow over the empty garages and tents. Y/N lingered by the trackside, her heart racing in her chest. She had made up her mind—she couldn’t keep pretending she didn’t feel anything for Carlos. But she didn’t think she’d be standing here, ready to confess her feelings in such a big way.

"You got this, Y/N," Lando said, giving her a little nudge of encouragement. The rest of the drivers had banded together, helping her plot the perfect confession for the man who had her heart.

"But what if he… I don’t know, laughs?" Y/N wrung her hands nervously, feeling her cheeks flush. "What if he doesn’t feel the same way?"

"Then he’s an idiot," Pierre chimed in with a grin, his arm around her shoulder. "But trust me, he’s not that dumb. I mean, he calls you cariño every day. I’m pretty sure he’s already halfway in love with you."

Sebastian, who had come along to witness the moment, chuckled. "You’ve grown up so fast, Y/N. Look at you—confessing your feelings like a true professional."

"Just… be yourself," Charles added, giving her an encouraging smile. "Carlos would be lucky to have you."

"Really?" she whispered, looking at her friends with wide eyes. They all nodded emphatically, giving her the strength she needed to take the leap.

As she waited, Y/N glanced back at her team of ‘brothers,’ who were hiding in the shadows with poorly concealed excitement. George and Alex were practically bouncing on their toes, and even Max was grinning.

Finally, she saw Carlos walking towards her, his hair still a little messy from the day, his eyes bright despite the late hour. "Y/N?" he asked, his brows raised in surprise. "What’s going on?"

She took a deep breath, willing herself not to lose her nerve. "Carlos, there’s something I need to tell you. And, um… please just listen, okay? Don’t say anything until I’m finished."

Carlos’s smile softened as he nodded. "Of course, mi vida."

"Right, okay…" She took another breath, staring at the ground, feeling her heart pounding against her ribs. "So, ever since I started here, you’ve… you’ve been one of the best parts of my job. The way you tease me, how you’re always looking out for me, calling me all those sweet names…" She laughed, slightly embarrassed. "At first, I thought it was just you being nice. But then… I realized it’s more than that for me. I… I really like you, Carlos. A lot."

There was a soft gasp from somewhere behind her, probably Lando, but Y/N kept her eyes on Carlos, who looked utterly stunned.

"I just couldn’t go on pretending I didn’t feel this way," she continued, her voice trembling. "And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. I just… I needed you to know."

Carlos took a step closer, his gaze intense, and she could see a flicker of emotion in his eyes that made her heart swell. "Y/N," he murmured, reaching for her hands. "You have no idea how much I wanted to hear you say that. I was so sure… so sure you only saw me as a friend."

Her cheeks flushed a deep red. "Carlos, I’ve had the biggest crush on you for months. You call me cariño, amor—it’s impossible not to fall for you."

He laughed softly, pulling her closer. "Well, in that case, let me say it properly." His voice softened, his gaze never leaving hers. "Te quiero, Y/N. I want you, too."

A mix of squeals and cheers erupted from the shadows as the other drivers stepped out, clapping and wiping away mock tears.

"Finally!" Daniel shouted, throwing his hands up dramatically. "Our little Y/N is all grown up!"

George pretended to dab at his eyes. "I’m not crying… it’s just… allergies."

Pierre gave her an affectionate grin, giving Carlos a nod of approval. "You better take care of her, Sainz."

Carlos laughed, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her into his side. "Don’t worry. I’ll treat her like the queen she deserves to be."

Max crossed his arms, his smile warm. "Good answer, mate. We’ve been waiting for this moment forever."

Y/N looked around at her friends, her cheeks sore from smiling. "Thank you, all of you. I couldn’t have done it without you."

Sebastian raised a pretend glass, grinning. "To Y/N and Carlos. And to all the big brothers who made this night possible."

Lando cleared his throat, looking almost sentimental as he pulled her into a quick hug. "We’re really happy for you, Y/N. But remember, if Carlos gives you any trouble, we’ll be right here."

Carlos chuckled, looking down at her with a playful smirk. "I think I have more to worry about than you do, cariño. With all these guys watching out for you, I’ll have to be on my best behavior."

"And that," Y/N said, squeezing his hand, "is exactly how I want it."

Surrounded by her friends—her family—she felt an overwhelming wave of happiness wash over her. As she looked up at Carlos, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the warmth of his gaze and the knowledge that she was exactly where she belonged.

--

A few years down the road, Y/N had cemented her place as the paddock’s heart and soul. Fans adored her interviews, and the teams always lit up when she was around. Being married to Carlos only added to the love everyone felt for her, and for Carlos, it made him proud—and fiercely protective.

The first few months of her pregnancy, however, had been kept tightly under wraps. Only she and Carlos knew, and they were still basking in the news in secret. But now, as she tried to hide her growing morning sickness and Carlos’s over-attentive concern, things were getting harder to keep quiet.

One morning in the paddock, Max Verstappen happened to pass by and saw Y/N doubled over, looking pale as she sat on a crate outside the Red Bull garage.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?" Max asked, concerned, immediately handing her his water bottle. "You don’t look too great."

Y/N tried to wave him off with a weak smile. "Oh, it’s nothing, Max, I just… I think it was something I ate."

"Something you ate?" he repeated, narrowing his eyes. "You’ve been saying that a lot lately."

"Just bad luck, I guess," she said, but the nausea hit her again, and she had to lean over to steady herself.

Max’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped as he pieced it together. "No way. No way. Y/N—are you…"

Y/N’s face flushed, but she couldn’t deny it, her weak smile giving her away.

"Oh my god." Max’s mouth fell open as he processed it. "Carlos got you pregnant?!"

“Shh!” Y/N whispered, glancing around in a panic. "Max, keep it down! We’re not telling people yet!"

Max clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes filling with tears. "Oh my god. Y/N, you’re pregnant." He blinked rapidly, his lips quivering as he tried to hold it together. "You’re gonna have a little Sainz?"

She bit her lip and nodded, smiling softly. “Yes. But you can’t tell anyone yet.”

Max was silent for a moment, his eyes shimmering. Then he let out a choked laugh and pulled her into a gentle hug, whispering, “I’m so happy for you. You’re gonna be the best mom, Y/N. I can already see it.”

Y/N laughed as he let her go, but not before he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Stop crying, Max,” she teased. “You’re making me want to cry, too!”

“I can’t help it,” he sniffled, looking sheepish. “This is huge! And now I have to protect you and the baby?”

“You don’t have to,” she laughed, but Max was already shaking his head.

“No, no, you don’t understand. I’m not letting you lift a finger,” he said, his face suddenly serious. “And I’m making sure Carlos does the same. You’ll have every single driver looking out for you.”

Just then, Carlos approached, his brow furrowing as he saw Max wiping at his eyes. “Max, what’s going on?”

Max pointed a stern finger at Carlos. “You, Sainz, have one job. You better take care of her and the little one. Or else…”

Carlos raised his hands, amused but wary. “I am taking care of her, Verstappen. Trust me.”

“No, not enough!” Max argued, his voice almost panicked. “She was just sitting here, pale as a ghost, and you weren’t even around!”

Y/N stifled a laugh, but Carlos just smirked, nodding in understanding. “Alright, alright, I’ll keep an even closer eye on her. Promise.”

Max softened a bit, but he wasn’t letting up. “Good. Because if anything happens to Y/N or the baby, anything, you’re answering to me. And Lando, and Pierre, and basically every guy in this paddock who cares about her.”

“Max, I think Carlos knows what he’s doing,” Y/N said, a smile playing on her lips.

Max looked between them, then grinned, his face softening. “Fine, but I’m still watching you both.” He took a deep breath, then pulled her into another hug. “I’m so, so happy for you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Max,” she whispered, hugging him back. “I think we’ll need you and the others looking out for us.”

Carlos wrapped an arm around her shoulder, giving Max a nod of gratitude. “Gracias, amigo. She’ll have all the protection she needs.”

“Good.” Max wiped his eyes one last time, giving them both a fierce nod. “Because we’re all family. And now… we’re growing.”

--

The Singapore Grand Prix was notorious for its blistering heat, and this year was no exception. The sweltering air clung to everyone, and for Y/N, who was visibly and heavily pregnant, it was nearly unbearable. But duty called, and the FIA insisted that she continue her scheduled interviews.

As she was setting up for another interview, the heat making her dizzy, she heard a familiar voice behind her. “Y/N, what are you doing here?” Lewis Hamilton approached her with a look of disbelief, glancing at her with concern. “You should be sitting in an air-conditioned room right now, not out here in this heat.”

“Lewis, it’s fine,” she said with a weak smile, though she was struggling. “It’s just a few interviews.”

Before he could respond, Max and Oscar joined them, both looking equally shocked.

“Are they out of their minds?” Max muttered, his face turning red with anger. “You shouldn’t be out here like this!”

“Seriously, Y/N,” Oscar added, frowning. “This isn’t safe. You’re not a machine.”

Y/N tried to brush them off, but she felt another wave of dizziness hit her. She steadied herself, but Charles had already noticed, his eyes narrowing. “That’s it,” he said firmly. “This is ridiculous. They can’t make you do this.”

“It’s okay, really—” she began, but the drivers were not having it.

Lewis crossed his arms, looking around with a sharp glare. “Who do we need to talk to? This isn’t happening, not today.”

As if on cue, a member of the FIA walked over, clipboard in hand. “Y/N, are we ready for the next interview?”

Max stepped in front of her before she could answer, his voice low and menacing. “She’s not doing any more interviews. Send someone else.”

The official frowned, clearly taken aback. “Excuse me? This is her job—”

“Yeah, and her job shouldn’t put her or her baby in danger,” Charles interjected angrily. “She’s done for the day.”

Oscar nodded in agreement. “Get someone else. This isn’t up for discussion.”

The FIA official looked bewildered, glancing at Y/N, but Lewis shot him a glare that would have stopped anyone in their tracks. “You have plenty of other reporters. Don’t make us get security involved.”

Seeing no way around it, the official nodded reluctantly. “Fine. She can go. But this will be reported.”

The drivers didn’t care; they were already surrounding Y/N protectively, guiding her towards the paddock lounge.

“Thank you, guys,” she murmured, touched by their concern. “But I can handle this, really—”

“No way,” Max cut her off, shaking his head. “Carlos would kill us if we let you stay out there in this heat.”

As they led her to the lounge, Carlos appeared, having just gotten word of what happened. His expression was a mix of relief and anger as he approached the group. “Qué demonios? Y/N, why didn’t you call me?”

Y/N shrugged, looking sheepish. “I didn’t want to bother you…”

Carlos looked ready to explode, turning to the FIA official who had followed them, probably to try and salvage the situation. “You made her work out there, in this heat, while she’s pregnant? Are you insane?”

The official held up his hands defensively. “We were just following standard protocol—”

“To hell with your protocol!” Carlos shouted, his face flushed with anger. “She’s carrying our child, and you’re risking her health for some interviews?”

“Mr. Sainz, please calm down—”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Carlos snapped, switching to rapid Spanish that the official clearly didn’t understand, though the tone left no doubts about what he was saying. “This is unacceptable. Inaceptable!”

“Carlos, you’re going to get fined,” Lewis warned quietly, though he was smirking a little, clearly pleased to see someone giving the FIA a piece of their mind.

“Fine me, I don’t care,” Carlos shot back. “It’ll be worth every cent if it means they treat her properly.”

The official quickly left, muttering something about reporting this to higher-ups, but the drivers didn’t care. They were all clustered around Y/N, making sure she was comfortable as they brought her a cold towel and water.

As soon as she was settled in, Max crouched beside her, giving her a warm but firm look. “From now on, you call us if they try to make you do anything stupid again, alright?”

Y/N chuckled, touched by their fierce protectiveness. “I promise.”

Carlos sat beside her, still fuming, but his hand gently rested on her stomach, protective and calming. “If they pull anything like this again, they’ll have to deal with all of us,” he said, his tone softer but no less serious.

That night, news of Carlos’s outburst—and his subsequent fine—spread like wildfire across social media. Fans took to Twitter, trending hashtags like #ProtectY/N and #JusticeForY/N. Clips of the drivers banding together to protect her from the heat circulated, and the internet quickly turned it into a rallying cry against the FIA’s treatment of Y/N.

@F1Fanatic: "Carlos got fined for standing up for his pregnant wife, and I’m here for it. #ProtectY/N 💪🔥"

@PaddockPrincess: "Seeing all the drivers look out for Y/N is the purest thing ever. She deserves all the love 🥹❤️ #FamilyGoals #ProtectY/N"

@F1Daily: "We all knew Carlos was protective, but the way he went off on the FIA? ICONIC. #JusticeForY/N"

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she scrolled through the support from fans, all of whom felt like an extended family. With Carlos by her side, and a whole paddock of brothers watching over her, she knew she and her baby would be safe, no matter what.

[harrysfolklore]

omg i have a question for the bitchy carlos fic -

so nicole piastri came on red flags podcast recently and spoke about oscar and his childhood, what if there’s an au segment of her talking about older piastri & what would his reaction be

okay this turned out being way longer than intended bc i added the scene of carlos and nicole meeting bc why not, i hope i'm not annoying you with too much little bitch content, i'll promise i'll post for other drivers now READ LITTLE BITCH HERE

Host: "So, Nicole, we've heard a lot about Oscar's journey to F1, but what can you tell us about his relationship with his sister, YN? She has quite the personality online, doesn't she? Can you tell us about their relationship growing up?

Nicole:"Oh, those two. They've always had such a special bond. YN is a few years older than Oscar and yes, she's known as the Piastri who fights people online, but she's always been fiercely protective of him. From the moment YN first held Oscar as a baby, she appointed herself his protector. It was adorable and sometimes a bit much, but always came from a place of love.

Host: Can you give us an example?

Nicole: "When Oscar was about six and YN was maybe nine. Oscar had just started school and was having trouble making friends. He was quite shy back then, if you can believe it. One day, YN overheard some kids teasing Oscar in the playground."

Host: "Oh no, what happened?"

Nicole: "Well, YN marched right up to those boys and she told them off in no uncertain terms. She said, and I quote, 'My brother is going to be a famous race car driver one day, and you'll all be asking for his autograph. So you'd better be nice to him now!' The boys were so shocked they just stood there with their mouths open."

Host:"That's amazing! Did it help Oscar?"

Nicole: "It did, actually. Oscar was so impressed by his big sister standing up for him that it gave him a confidence boost. And you know what? Some of those boys ended up becoming his good friends. They still joke about YN's 'prophecy' coming true now that Oscar's in F1."

Host: "That's such a heartwarming story! It's clear YN has always been protective of Oscar. Now, speaking of relationships, we've heard that YN is dating Carlos Sainz. Can you tell us a bit about how that came to be?"

Nicole: "Oh, that's an interesting story! YN actually told us she was dating Carlos a while back, but we weren't surprised at all. We knew she liked him since that time in Singapore last year when our family visited. YN was trying so hard to act mad about Carlos' win, but it was obvious she was impressed."

Host: "So you had suspicions before they even got together?"

Nicole: "Absolutely! Even before that Singapore trip, YN used to go on these multiple rants about, in her words, 'this arrogant Spaniard' who kept pushing Oscar off track. She called him something I won't repeat but I'm pretty sure everyone knows it, it absolutely irritated her. But you know what? We all knew that deep down, she had a crush on him."

Host: "That's quite the turnaround! Have you met Carlos — as YN’s partner this time — yet?"

Nicole: "I haven’t, actually. I’m hoping to do that in Baku after the summer break. But I can see Carlos brings out a softer side of YN that we don't often see in public. Don't get me wrong, she's still fiercely stubborn and outspoken, but with Carlos, there's this gentleness that comes out. He seems to really understand and appreciate her passion, and he's not intimidated by her strong personality at all. In fact, he seems to admire it."

Host: "It sounds like they complement each other well. How has Oscar taken to their relationship?"

Nicole: "Oscar's been very supportive. I think he appreciates seeing his sister happy, and of course, it doesn't hurt that Carlos is someone he respects on the track. It's actually quite funny to see YN now, cheering for both Oscar and Carlos during races. She's always torn between wanting Oscar to win and not wanting Carlos to lose."

Host: "That's nice, Carlos sounds like quite the gentleman. Has YN picked up any Spanish since they started dating?"

Nicole: "Oh, that's actually a funny story. We love to tease YN about this. You see, she failed Spanish in high school - couldn't conjugate a verb to save her life. And now here she is, dating a Spaniard! Carlos has been trying to teach her, but let's just say it's a work in progress. She can now order a beer and ask where the bathroom is, so I suppose that's progress!"

Host: "That's hilarious! I'm sure she'll be fluent in no time."

Nicole: "Bless her, she's really trying. She's determined to have a full conversation with Carlos' parents in Spanish by the end of the year. We'll see how that goes!"

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ynpiastri our queen is here !! and no one is ready

tagged: nicolepiastri

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username1 NICOLE PIASTRI IS THE MOMENT

username2 SLAY THE HOUSE BOOTS DOWN

mclaren Icon 🧡

lilyzneimer the besttttt 💓

username3 IS SHE MEETING CARLOS ??

username4 oh i can’t wait to see our queen giving carlos a run for his money again

landonorris Coolest ever

↳ ynpiastri her favorite will always be yuki don’t even try it

↳ username1 HEEEELP

yukitsunoda5511 Nicole is brat

↳ username2 I LOVE THEM 😭

oscarpiastri I’m ready, your boyfriend however…

↳ username3 LOOOOORDDD

↳ username1 POOR CARLOS

↳ ynpiastri leave him alone 😤😤

Baku had a special energy during race weekends. The tight streets and high-pressure atmosphere gave you a mixture of excitement and nerves, but today, the butterflies in your stomach had nothing to do with the Grand Prix. Instead, it was about the lunch you were about to have, where Carlos would meet your mom—officially, as your boyfriend this time.

You walked through the paddock with Carlos by your side, his hand wrapped around yours. Oscar was a few steps ahead, casually walking toward the hospitality area where no other than Nicole Piastri waited. She had met Carlos briefly before, like many of the other drivers, but this was different. He wasn’t just a name on the grid anymore—he was the man you were dating, and Carlos seemed to be nervous about the meeting.

"You think she likes me?" Carlos adjusted his hat for what felt like the hundredth time, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"Carlos, she’s going to love you," you couldn’t help but smile at his nerves, "She already does. But, you know... as a mum, she's entitled to give you a little hard time."

"That’s what I’m worried about," Carlos chuckled, but his smile was still tight, "I just want to make a good impression, you know?"

"You will," you assured him, squeezing his hand. "Just be yourself."

Oscar slowed down, overhearing your conversation and grinning like he already knew how this would play out. "Mum’s gonna grill you, mate," he teased, throwing a glance back at Carlos. "She’s been waiting for this."

"Not helping, Oscar," you muttered, giving your brother a playful shove. He just smirked, clearly enjoying himself.

When you finally reached the hospitality tent, your mom was already seated at a table, smiling warmly as she saw you all approach. She stood up to greet you, wrapping you in a familiar hug before turning to Carlos with that same welcoming smile—though you knew there was a glint of mischief behind it.

“Carlos, it’s so good to see you again,” she greeted, shaking his hand.

"It’s great to see you too, Mrs. Piastri," Carlos said, his polite smile fixed on his face. His Spanish charm was dialed up a notch, but you could still feel the slight tension in his grip as he held your hand.

“Please, call me Nicole,” she said, taking her seat again. “I’m not that formal, especially not with my daughter’s boyfriend.”

As you all settled into your seats, you couldn't help but notice the amused glances Oscar and your mom were exchanging. You knew that look—they were up to something.

"So," Nicole began, her eyes twinkling with mischief, "how long have you two been together again?"

You glanced at Carlos, who seemed to relax a bit as he answered, "About two months officially, right, cariño?"

You nodded, but before you could add anything, your mom raised an eyebrow. "And unofficially?"

"Mum!" you said as you felt your cheeks heat up.

Oscar, who had taken a seat across from you, let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the show. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching the dynamic unfold.

"That’s what I thought," she teased, making Oscar let out a loud laugh.

You felt your face grow even hotter as your mom's implications hung in the air. Carlos, to his credit, managed to maintain his composure, though you noticed a slight redness creeping up his neck.

"Well," Carlos cleared his throat, his accent a bit thicker than usual, "I think it's safe to say we've known each other for quite some time now."

"Oh, I remember. You two weren't exactly friendly at first, were you?"

"That's putting it mildly, Mum," Oscar snorted, "Remember the time she came home absolutely fuming after a race? She was ranting about 'that little bi—'"

"Oscar!" you cut him off, "We don't need to relive that."

Carlos squeezed your hand under the table, clearly amused. "No, please, I'd love to hear about this."

"Oh mate, you should've heard her," Oscar spoke again, "'Carlos this, Carlos that.' I swear, she talked about you more when she hated you than she does now."

"I did not!" you protested, but your brother's knowing smirk told you he wasn't buying it.

"It's true," your mum added, her eyes dancing with laughter. "I remember thinking, 'This girl protests too much.' I had a feeling even then that all that anger was hiding something else."

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. "I can't believe this is happening."

Carlos wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "It's okay, hermosa. I love to hear these stories."

You looked up at him, seeing the warmth in his eyes. It was hard to believe that those same eyes had once glared at you across the paddock.

Nicole smiled, watching the two of you with that familiar mom look—part teasing, part proud. "Well, now look at you. I guess all that bickering was just a cover-up for how much you liked each other."

"You’ve gone soft," Oscar rolled his eyes dramatically. "I kinda miss the days when you’d call each other names."

"Don’t worry," you muttered, giving Carlos a playful glare. "He’s still a little bitch sometimes."

Carlos laughed, his arm tightening around you as he kissed the top of your head. "And you’re still my favorite enemy turned girlfriend."

Your mom let out a satisfied sigh, leaning back in her chair. "I knew it all along."

[tommydarlings]

pairing: dark!rbr!seb x reader

warnings: dark, possessive behaviour

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +60 works) <3 // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

Being the girlfriend of a highly talented formula one driver definitely had its perks.

One of them was for an example, always immediately standing front row during the podium ceremony, proudly being able to watch your boyfriend win once again another race.

Next to him, on the second place was Lewis, while alonso got third place, also happily smiling down at the crowd just like your boyfriend, sebastian.

“He did it once again, huh?” Christian Horner, who stood next to you, mumbled in a quiet tone so that only you were able to hear it, making you smile even wider.

You nodded as you continued clapping with a proud grin, “of course he did it once again, he’s sebastian vettel, my sebastian vettel,” you added with a short laugh as you returned your gaze back to the podium, loudly cheering as they gave Lewis his medal, also being happy for him since the two of you are quite good friends.

But Sebastian noticed you clapping and cheering for his rival, making his blood boil, roughly clenching his fists behind his back and bite his inner cheek with a dark gaze before he briefly glanced over to the young Mercedes driver with an evil expression on his face.

An expression that you didn’t catch.

—

“How was the ceremony? As good as every time?” Sebastian asked you as he arrived in his drivers room where you were already waiting for him.

You nodded, “of course! Especially since you’ve done it once again, baby,” you put your arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him but Sebastian quickly threw your arms off of his body and grabbed you by the neck, slamming you with a tiny bit of force against the wall.

You gasped, your eyes widening as he looked down at you with an unreadable expression on his face, the only thing you’ve noticed was how his eyes suddenly darkened.

“So we’re also cheering for the enemies now, huh? Cheering for other men, for the rivals of the only man you should be cheering for in the first place, hmm?” Sebastian tilted his head to the side as he watched how your eyes welled up with tears, making him roll his eyes.

He sighed, squeezing your throat with his big palm, “oh here come the waterworks again, who would have thought,” he muttered deeply as your entire body just shook with fear.

“I-I was only cheering for him b-because he’s my friend Sebastian, you k-know that,” you quickly replied with tears in your eyes, making sebastian furrows his brows.

“Oh?! Because Lewis is your friend, huh?! I see, I see, meine liebe,” my love, the German told you in a harsh but quiet tone before he swiftly put his hand on your chin, forcing your face closer to his.

Sebastian, stood up a bit straighter, making you appear even smaller than you already did, “You keep your goddamn eyes one me, you understand?” He raised his brows.

You gulped before you nodded, not being able to say anything now out of fear,

“I asked you a question and you’ll answer me when I ask you a question,” he squeezed your cheeks, making you gasp,

“Yeah, okay.. I-I understand, s-sebastian,” you innocently nodded along your words, at least as much as his tight grip on your face allowed.

He nodded along with his infamous smirk, “Good,” he whispered deeply, “good girl,” he leaned forward and kissed your forehead,

“Next time I catch you cheering for one of my rivals, I make sure that you’ll regret it, okay?”

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 15

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: Thank you as always for the lovely responses on the previous chapter! It was a long one, so thank you for sticking through with me. We're about to lighten up a little with some Christmas spirit! ❄️🎁

**Also, if you're a fan of The Boys (and Soldier Boy), there's an awesome book you can check out, called Supes Ain’t Always Heroes: Inside the Complex Characters and Twisted Psychology of The Boys.

If you want to learn more about the book (including cast interviews and a character study on Soldier Boy), I wrote a review about it here!

Otherwise, on to some more firefighter!Dean!

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, fluff, tinge of angst, hurt/comfort, lots of feels.

Part 15: “The Good Part”

“How many damn arrests does that make?” Daniel asked. He gripped his pool cue with both hands while he leaned on it.

His son stood at the other end of the pool table, lining up his shot. He paused to think.

“Six,” Nick replied. His cue released, and it knocked two of his balls into the pocket.

“Six,” Daniel repeated, while Nick came his way to find an angle for his next turn.

Daniel shook his head. His lips were angrily pursed. His eyes might’ve been on the pool game, but he was playing chess in his mind. He had underestimated John Winchester for far too long, it seemed.

The man was stubborn as all hell. And he’d been busy lately, getting “Azazel’s” men busted for all manners of bullshit.

“Alastair’s mole says Winchester’s been calling in favors from his old friends in Narcotics, trying to bust our small fries,” Nick reported. “Getting them on everything from petty theft to drug possession, with intent to sell. But it’s nothing we can’t pull ‘em out of.”

“Time, money, added risk,” Daniel cited on his fingers all the reasons why John Winchester was a pain in his ass. “It’s only a matter of time before they get a warrant to rip apart Savage & Co., sweep the whole damn building. For forensic evidence, our files, all the jazz.”

Daniel’s fingers drummed thoughtfully against his chin. “A damn cop thinks he’s being cute.”

Nick missed his second turn. His hand fell against his thigh in annoyance, but he looked up.

“Dad, it’s your move.”

Daniel rubbed at his chin. His eyes were no longer seeing the board in front of him. Eventually, they slid up and met his son’s gaze.

“We’re going to start from the beginning,” he said.

Nick’s face gave away his confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

Daniel just smiled.

It was Christmas Day, and John was late. Sam and Dean were used to that drill, so they weren’t expecting him until dinnertime.

Meanwhile, it gave you a chance to find your footing as you got to know Eileen. She had helped you bake the pies that were now cooling on the counter (pumpkin and berry crumble), and a few of the side dishes for dinner. Sam had covered cleaning up the rest of the house, while Dean tackled his favorites: the ham and the mac and cheese.

Now the guys were in the living room watching football while you and Eileen were still in the kitchen, decorating some gingerbread cookies you two had made. She enjoyed it; doing holiday crafts with her students had been bringing out her artistic side, she told you. You were happy for the help and the conversation.

You later tried to cover up your snort of laughter as she finished telling you the story of how Dean once dared Sam to wear women’s underwear for a whole week.

If he managed it, Dean had promised to do all the household chores for three months. If Sam couldn’t make it the whole week, then he would face the consequences: Dean would tell their dad about the bet.

“How old were they?” you asked.

Eileen scoffed. “Sam was a senior in college.”

You burst out laughing again. “So too old, is the answer… Did he win?”

Eileen gave you a mischievous smile.

“He did,” Dean said, as he appeared in the kitchen doorway with a familiar smirk. “I’ve got photographic evidence. It was a cheetah print thong, in case you were wondering.”

Your eyes widened on a laugh. “Oh my God.”

Cheetahlicious, you couldn’t help joking in your mind. Even if you’d rather not think of Sam wearing a pair of Victoria Secret’s best.  

Eileen giggled with you. Dean’s amusement gave way to curiosity as he eyed the little gingerbread men you two were icing. You warned him off with your eyes, but it took Eileen batting his hand when he tried to steal a cookie.

“Hey! Wait ‘til after dinner,” she said.

Dean pouted. “Come on, don’t be stingy.”

Rolling her eyes, Eileen sighed.

“You’re like one of my kids,” she said, while signing with her hands. But she caved and handed him a cookie. “Here. To tide you over.”

Dean smiled and signed back to her in ASL, Thank you.

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” he said. He leaned down to kiss her cheek in a brotherly gesture.

He shot you a wink before taking a bite of his prize. You shook your head at him, even though you were smiling. He came around to your side of the table. His hand rested on your back and he bent down towards your ear.  

“I actually came over for you,” he said. “Got a minute?”

Your brows rose, but you turned to Eileen in askance. “I’ll be right back. Is that okay?”

She nodded and made an “OK” gesture. “Of course.”

You smiled and let Dean lead you out of your chair, and even out of the apartment. He made sure you both grabbed your coats by the front door.

“Where are we going?” you asked. While you put on your coat over your sweater and jeans, you didn’t notice him grabbing two sets of keys.

“Just downstairs. No big deal,” he said, hefting on his own leather jacket.

You eyed him with some suspicion, but you walked with him down to the elevators and let him keep you close to his side. He smelled like the cologne you bought him for Christmas, and he was already wearing the new watch as well.

You’d struggled to find him the right gift. Nothing felt quite enough after everything he’d done for you the last few months. He’d assured you that he was grateful for both gifts, and had even tried to say the watch looked too expensive. (You’d shut him up with a kiss.)

Now, you had to wonder what he was up to as he led you into the parking lot, but not toward Baby. Instead, you two stopped in front of a shiny silver Chevy parked in a guest spot.

“Dean, what’d you do?” you asked, both excited and worried. He shot you a grin and dangled the keys in front of you.

“You like her?” he asked. His eyes were dancing. “You could keep her, if you ask nicely.”

Your face slackened. You looked between him and the sleek looking car.

“What?” You covered your mouth with both hands. Even after a few moments, your brain was still having a hard time computing. “No…what? Oh my God!”

You grabbed onto his jacket, just in case your legs failed you. Dean laughed and gathered you up in his arms. By the time you peeled your eyes away from the silver beauty to look up at your boyfriend, there were tears already swimming in your eyes.

“Dean, this is really too much. Where’d you find—”

“Bobby had it sitting in his garage for years,” he explained. His hand came up to brush your cheek, and the tears there. “I cleaned her up, dropped in a new engine, safe-proofed with new tires, new airbags, the works. Got her purring like a kitten.”

Your eyes grew a little wider with every admission. Then you softened, gripping the edges of his jacket while you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling.

“How much did he sell it to you for?” you asked. Dean dropped his head back with a sigh.

“Don’t you wanna take a test ride before we start hagglin’?”

You lightly smacked his chest. “Hey. How much?”

He let out another heavy sigh, but you eventually got it out of him. While the price wasn’t as bad as you might’ve expected, you still shook your head.

“I still have a decent chunk of insurance money left. I’m giving you at least half,” you said.

Dean shook his head. “This is my gift to you.”

Your lips pursed, despite the smile that wanted to peek through.

“Nice try,” you said wryly. “You already got me perfume.”

“That was just the decoy.” He grinned, and held you a bit tighter against him. He nodded towards the car. “She’s the main event.”

You wanted to sigh, but this conversation wasn’t over. You were definitely not letting him buy you a whole new…old car. You turned to look at it again.

“What model is this?” you asked.

“2002 Camaro Z28,” Dean rattled off. It sounded impressive, but you didn’t know much about cars.

He let go of you so you could get a closer look. Your hand passed over the hood, but didn’t touch, as if you were afraid of staining the paint with your fingerprints. He had to admit, he’d waxed it up good and managed to get rid of a lot of superficial nicks and scratches.

What he said was true though; Bobby had given him a frankly ridiculous deal. Because when Dean had told him what you’d been through after the car accident, dealing with your grandfather’s passing, and now your ever-mounting expenses, Bobby hadn’t let him walk away from Singer Salvage with anything else but this car. He’d even helped Dean get the new parts he needed to fix it up.

“Is it automatic or manual?” you asked, trying to peer through the driver’s window. “I haven’t driven stick in a hell of a long time.”

Dean came up from behind you and his warm hand found your hip. You let him draw you back into his arms, leaning against his chest.

His lips were close to your ear when he said, “I think you’re damn good at driving stick.”

It took you a second, but the heavily laden innuendo in his deep voice was hard to miss. You uttered a laugh and swatted his arm.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said. You were still smiling when you turned and twined your arms around his neck. Then you leaned up for a kiss—one that kept getting deeper with the full force of your gratefulness, and your love for this man.

“It’s an automatic,” he answered, between kisses. You giggled against his lips.

You barely felt the chill on the air. Your heart was beating fast, even when you pulled away from him. Your eyes slowly opened and met his. He smiled down at you and curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. As usual, you had most of it clipped up.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was quiet, but steady.

You let out a shaky breath. Emotion was clogging your throat, making your tears burn anew.

“This is a bit more than a Christmas present,” you said. He gave a more self-deprecating smile.

“Well, it’s also kind of an apology,” he said. “For getting you mixed up in my ‘family business.’”

He still felt guilt beyond belief for putting you in danger. For your life being threatened. For being the reason you couldn’t go home.

You just shook your head. Your hand raised to press against his cheek. Your thumb drew tenderly along his chin.

“I thought you said you were part of my family now?” you said. “We’ll figure this out together, like everything else.”

Dean’s eventual smile lightened you, and his kiss warmed you down to your toes. 

“If you want, let’s go for a ride after dinner,” he said.

It was your turn to smirk. Your hands migrated under his jacket and teased at his belt.

“Well, I’m certainly down for a ride,” you said.

Dean laughed and squeezed your hips. “All right. I’m puttin’ you on my naughty list.”

When John finally arrived, the brothers welcomed him in first with big man hugs and good-natured ribbing for him being so damn late.

In Sam’s words, Upholding a Winchester family tradition.

John had taken that with a chuckle. “Smells damn good in here.”

“Yeah, food’s been done for an hour,” Dean prodded at him again. His grin betrayed his teasing, however. His welcoming hand stayed on his dad’s shoulder until they reached the living room, where Sam had set up a longer fold out table and chairs to function as the makeshift dining room, since the table near the kitchen only seated three.

There you were opening a bottle of Jack Daniels. You smiled up at John.

“Figured you were more of a whiskey than wine kind of guy,” you said. You were a bit nervous to see him again, no doubt with flour in your hair and frosting staining your hands. He clasped your shoulder with a hint of a smile.

“You’d be right. Good to see you, darlin’,” he said.

“You too,” you replied. Despite the fact that the first and last time you two had met, it had been in front of your house as the police rifled through your life, looking for more explosives. He graciously didn’t bring that up as he greeted Eileen next.

Once dinner was on the table, there was a lot of catching up between the brothers and their father while you and Eileen continued talking, even through dessert.

“This really is amazing,” she told you, pointing her fork at her slice of berry crumble. “I can see why you went to culinary school.”

You blushed as Sam, Dean, and even John echoed her praise. All three men had generous slices of both pies. 

“Well, thank you. I’m glad you guys enjoy it,” you said, and your smile was genuine.

You loved making good food, but you loved feeding people even more. Whether it was a simple hearty soup or a rich dessert, you liked putting smiles on their faces and giving them a good experience; one they could share with their family and friends. Even better if it was your family.

Or as Dean would say, Your people. 

To you, that was life.

“I’m tellin’ you, if you opened up a bakery you’d make a killing in this town,” Dean said. He nudged your hand with the one that held his fork; it held a precarious piece of pumpkin pie.

You shot him an amused look.

“Don’t you look at me sideways, I’m serious,” he said, laughing a little, but his gaze was steady.

Your cheeks warmed against your will. He believed in your dream, even when you couldn’t quite let yourself.

“Hey, if you ever want to look into applying for a loan, I could help,” Sam said, earning your attention. “I have a friend who works at a bank.”

Your brows raised. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we were pre-law together back in college, but he figured he was better with numbers.”

You smiled. “Well, it would make it easier knowing I was dealing with your friend.”

“Yeah, his name’s Brady. Let me know if you want me to call him,” he said.

You bit your lip, but you nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

Maybe they were right. Maybe you should start to believe in yourself, just a little bit more.

“This was all real delicious,” John said to you, when you came back from bringing the leftovers to the kitchen.

Sam and Dean were already arguing about who was doing the dishes and who was drying them. Meanwhile, Eileen was putting away the food (and probably rolling her eyes).

“Yeah, it was a team effort for sure,” you replied. “Dean’s actually a really good cook.”

John chuckled. “Yeah, well, he didn’t get that from me. I can barely boil a damn egg.”

You smiled to yourself; you could imagine Dean got it from his mother then.

Meanwhile, John was watching you stack the empty plates as he grew more contemplative. He’d always been proud of his sons. They were good men, with strong heads on their shoulders.

He often looked at Sam and saw that he seemed happy. Despite the demands of his job, he was learning to balance that with the life he led with Eileen. As a father, John looked forward to the day when they made a firm foundation, taking the next step towards building a life together.

But Dean had seemed to him, a little unstable. John was still proud of his eldest, but while he’d seen a glimpse of it that day at your house, he saw it even more today. Like his son finally had an anchor, tethering him to dry land.

Even so, he couldn’t help heaving a sigh. And he asked you something he knew he shouldn’t.

“Have you given any more thought to filing a report on Nick Savage?” he asked.

You paused in your plate and cup stacking. You looked up at him with a frown, but you thought about your words before you said something rude.

“Yes, I did,” you replied. “I decided my life and my peace were more important.”

He let out a short sigh. “I understand—”

“I’m sorry, John, but I don’t think you do,” you said. Your words were matter-of-fact, if a tad more sharp than you meant them to be. Your hands were starting to tremble.

You crossed your arms to try and steady yourself, but Dean ended up doing just that, by joining your side and resting a hand at the small of your back. He was frowning, glancing between you and his father.

“Tell me you’re not talking about what I think you are,” Dean said, addressing John in particular. “Not on damn Christmas.”

“Like you said, it’s her decision,” John replied. His gaze once again focused on you.

You let out a breath, mostly of exasperation.

“I’m going to bottom-line it for you. If I report that man, and you can’t guarantee me a job and safety until it’s all over, then I’m not poking the bear,” you said. “I plan to keep my head down until I can find another job. Until then, you can have at him all you want. Just leave me out of it.”

Part of you felt selfish. You knew what John was trying to accomplish, and you knew how personal this fight was for him, and for Sam and Dean for that matter. You just couldn’t shake your gut instincts here. You knew Nick far too well by now, and you didn’t want to underestimate him again.

“I agree,” said Dean. You gave him a grateful look.

John conceded with a nod, but all of you knew he wasn’t satisfied. It became a bitter ending to an otherwise brilliant day after he left for the night.

In your mind, it wasn’t quite over yet though. You had a plan up your sleeve for one Dean Winchester.

Sam and Eileen had their own time together while you and Dean went for a drive in your new car. You’d have to transfer your plate and registration and insurance, so it was technically an “illegal” drive, but it was already late and traffic was scarce.

By the time you pulled back into the parking lot, you were smiling from ear to ear, and Dean was giving you that smug grin that said, Aw yeah, I did good.

You couldn’t even fault him for it, because he did exactly that.

Even when you and Dean were getting ready for bed, it didn’t quite feel real. You were living with your boyfriend of just a few months, you now had a new car, and a crime lord had threatened your life.

You chose to focus on the new car. And on your boyfriend, who sat on the edge of his side of the bed, rubbing his right shoulder through his shirt. You knew it must still be sore, though he likely wouldn’t admit it.

Hence, you were about to enact Phase 1 of your plan…

You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.

Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”

“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.

You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.

You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”

He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.

“Well, if you’re offering…”

You withdrew your hand from his arm, but you spoke close to his ear.

“Are you asking?”

He let out a small sigh, despite his lingering smile.

“All right. Will you please give me a lil’ massage?” he asked.

He couldn’t see your triumphant smile, but you happily kissed his cheek.

“I sure can,” you replied. You laid gentle hands on his shoulders, however briefly. “Stay right here. Don’t move, but take off your shirt.”

“All right, Miss Bossy,” he grumbled. You knew he was teasing by the amused look he threw your way.

“I thought you liked that,” you teased back.

You climbed off the bed before he could playfully grab you, and you giggled all the way to the bathroom. There you began Phase 2 of your plan. 

First, you collected a few different bottles from your designated drawer under the sink. Then, you made a quick wardrobe change, after popping back into the bedroom to grab something from your nightstand.

You also connected your phone to the speaker on his nightstand and put some music on a low volume. It was a playlist he’d made and shared with you a while ago, with songs he thought you’d like. The Eagles’ “Take It to the Limit” was definitely on the list.

By the time you returned to Dean, he was indeed shirtless, still in his sweatpants, and checking his watch.  

“I’m here, I’m here,” you said. You climbed across the bed with your small haul—a difficult feat with your hands full, but you managed.

Dean turned to look at the bottles of moisturizer you dropped next to him on the bed. He rose a brow.

“Twilight Woods. Japanese Cherry Blossom. Appletini. Are these my only options?” he asked. His face was half bemused, half reluctant.

You almost burst out laughing. “Which one strikes your fancy?”

He scratched the back of his head. You opened the second bottle first (your personal favorite), so he could smell.

“Not bad actually,” he muttered. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t giggle, but you managed to open the other two for him to get a whiff.

“Eh, the first one I guess,” he said.

Japanese Cherry Blossom. AKA: a classic from Bath & Body Works.

You finally had to laugh. “Just kidding. I’ve got this.”

You held up a jar you’d been hiding behind him. Its logo said: Massage Oil.

“I just wanted to see which girly moisturizer you secretly wanna slather all over yourself,” you said.

Dean shot you a wry look, but only then did he see what you were wearing.

“Oh, hold up,” he uttered.

Your hair was let loose, how you knew he liked, and you’d teased it out a little. You’d had to give away the red lingerie you’d bought, to rid both of you of its lingering memories of your work Christmas party. Instead, you’d found something in a vibrant emerald green: satin and lace.

Dean’s hand reached for your waist, probably to bring you closer. But you playfully slapped his hand.

“Eh-eh! Not yet,” you said to his surprised face. You smiled. “I have a plan for you tonight.”

Slowly, he smirked. His eyes still dipped to take in the rest of you, from your pretty face, to exposed skin and cleavage, to shiny satin that clung to your curves and draped down to mid-thigh. 

“I can see,” he said. His voice was a notch deeper. “Merry Christmas to me.”

Despite your blush and growing smile, you turned him back around by his shoulders.

“Just relax.”

You let your hands drift up the back of his neck to slide your fingers through his hair. There you began with a slow, gentle massage of his head. You felt him take a deep breath.

You couldn’t see it, but Dean’s eyes had closed at your ministrations. He secretly really liked the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. It made his shoulders loosen; with tension he didn’t know he had releasing from the neck down.

Aside from the rigors of his job, he also had to work out and condition his body to keep up his stamina. He probably didn’t spend as much time as he should on this aspect of things, making sure he wasn’t overtaxing himself.

He appreciated what you were doing though. He knew you cared about him, that you loved him. But he liked that you were also a caring person, who tried to take care of him. Dean hadn’t really had that…from anyone before. Sometimes, it was hard for him to let you.

…Damn, we really got too much in common, he realized.

When you migrated back down his neck, your hands left for a moment to gather up some oil. It was warm against his skin when you started between his shoulders, digging with the heel of your hands.

He groaned deep, surprising even himself.

Behind him, your brows were furrowed. “You’re really knotted up here. When was the last time you had a massage?”

Dean chuckled. “Never.”

You frowned. “Hmm. Okay, we’re definitely doing this more often.”

“No complaints from me,” he said with a grin.

Of course, you gave special attention to his right shoulder. You were gentler there, asking what was tender and what felt good, or too much. By then you had an easier time getting the truth out of Dean. He let you know when the pressure was too much, and you even helped him stretch out that arm until the muscles and joints were warmed up and the pain was gone.

You encouraged him to lie on his stomach in the middle of the bed, so you could start on his back. Your hands glided down planes of muscle and smooth slopes while you straddled his thighs. The only sounds you heard from him were occasional moans and rumbling, pleased sounds. That was also what let you know that he hadn’t fallen asleep.

“Okay, turn over,” you said, smiling when he groaned in protest. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

“What the hell’s the good part then?” he asked. His voice was muffled in the mattress, but when he turned around, flopping onto his back, his eyes once again took in the green satin and seemed to remember what your real intentions were.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. His grin was lazy, now that he was beyond relaxed, but his hands found purchase on your hips. You smiled down at him.

You let the remaining oil on your hands glide up his chest, until you lowered down for a kiss. It was unhurried and sweet.

“I love you, you know?” you said.

Dean swept his fingers through your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear.

He smiled. “I’ve got some idea, yeah.”

You both laughed, soft and true. Your hand rested against his cheek as you pressed your lips to his, soft and slow at first, but soon gaining in both passion and urgency. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, grinding your center against his growing length.

He groaned. No goddamn panties on. Good.

You kissed your way from his lips to his neck. Your teeth grazed his ear while you rolled your hips into his. It was a tease for both of you, but not for long, as Dean grew impatient enough to slide his sweatpants down, followed by his hands slipping under the satin covering your thighs. They traveled further still, squeezing your breasts and rolling hardened nipples under the pads of his thumbs.

Your breath hitched, and your pleased hum was music to his ears. By now you were bracing yourself against the mattress, but you used his shoulders as leverage to raise yourself up.

You took his hands and encouraged them to bunch up the satin and pull it over your head. Dean sat up with you still in his lap, and once his strong arm wrapped around your waist, it was skin to flushed skin.

You held his face and brought him down to you for another fierce kiss. He held you tightly against him, hands splayed across your back and tangling in your hair. His arms were a cage you never wanted to escape.

But you did press away from him, just for a moment, so you could reach down between your bodies to take a firm hold of his cock. You guided it to your entrance. There was already a small flood between your legs, and your core ached for him.

There was almost no resistance when you slowly sunk your hips down and down, until he was buried deep inside you.

You both made sounds of pleasure, with labored breaths as Dean’s hand cradled your cheek. He laid open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, teeth grazing down your neck.

You clung to his shoulders and began to move, slow in the way you let almost the full length of his cock escape you, before you slid back down. Dean moaned into your skin, and you let out a shuddering sigh.

You pushed at Dean’s chest until he was lying back, and you continued rolling your hips against his. He helped you create a steady rhythm on top of him, but he was being treated to a feast of the eyes as well as the pleasure rocking through his body. He watched the way you swept your hair back. The way your eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration as you bit your lip.

But he couldn’t stay still for long; he knew he was close enough to practically taste his end, but you had some miles to go. He gripped your thigh with one hand while the other glided up between them, to further part your folds. His fingers found your clit, circling insistently like it was a button. It had your hips stuttering.

“Oh, God,” you uttered. “Dean—”

He managed to smirk through panting breaths. “Right there, right baby?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You continued to move as steadily as you could, but the feeling of him deep inside combined with his talented fingers playing you like a five-string guitar—it finally made you tighten on him, shuddering deep inside. Tingles broke across your skin, zipping up your spine as you gasped.

Dean helped you with the last few hard thrusts that brought him along with you, and you felt his warmth spilling inside you.

It was a heady feeling, and you needed a moment just to recover. Even though you were on birth control, every time he came inside you still felt like a dangerous, delicious game.

But after you slid off his lap and practically rolled into his side, him welcoming you with an arm wrapping around your waist, it did make you think, as you caught your breath.

It made you think about the first time you and Dean slept together. It had been the first and last time you’d asked him to wear a condom. The next morning, he’d made a remark that still hung in the back of your mind…

“You like kids, huh?”

The thought still rattled through your mind now, after you and Dean shared a quick shower, ridding you both of the oil clinging to your skin. The thought remained when you slid into bed, under fresh sheets and thick covers, and close to your man. He cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling.

Contrary to what this night had been, the whole “moving in together” thing hadn’t been all that easy. You two had bickered about the way he often left drawers and cabinets open and dirty clothes on the floor.

He had made remarks about your hair products taking up too much space in his drawers. Not to mention how morning routines needed to adjust because Dean liked to shower in the morning, but you needed the mirror not fogged up in order to do your makeup.

Right now, however, you had peace. You felt safe here, and you weren’t alone in a huge house filled with far too many memories.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

Dean’s lips lingered on your forehead. “Hmm?”

“I know this situation is sort of temporary, me living here,” you said. “So much has happened that we haven’t really talked about…what we both want, down the line.”

He pulled back enough from you to see your face. His face betrayed a thread of confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean like…” you hesitated, but you realized you were probably going to have to be direct. “Are you a marriage and kids kind of guy? Is that even something you’ve thought about?”

Dean met your gaze. It took him a moment, but he let out a short sigh.

“You wanna know what made me want to start dating, for real?” he asked.

You blinked; you hadn’t expected that, but you nodded.

“I started thinking about what would happen if something happened to me on the job,” he said. You frowned, but before you could say anything, he raised a placating hand.

“I thought about what I’d leave behind,” said Dean. He quirked a wry smile. “It’s not much, besides my car.”

You frowned in earnest. Your hand flattened against his bare chest.

“That’s not true,” you said. “You have your brother, your father, and your friends. That’s plenty, Dean.”

He conceded that with a nod. “You’re right. But I just started thinking, maybe I want more. Like uh…like what my parents had, when they were happy. The house, each other, me and Sammy…a family.”

You couldn’t be certain in the near total darkness of the room, with only the moonlight filtering through the blinds and casting a glow behind him, but you thought you saw a shine in his eyes. Your hand crept up from beneath the covers to find his cheek. It was rough with stubble, yet you tenderly swept a thumb back and forth.

“I think that’s beautiful,” you replied.

Dean paused. He then huffed in amusement. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, hoping he could see it. 

“Then uh, is that something you’d be into?” he asked. You were amused by his tentative approach. 

“With you?” You pretended to think. Your fingers slipped into his hair. “Yeah, I think I’m into that.”

He chuckled. “Okay, then. Good to know.”

He grasped your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss into your palm.

And he spoke into the dark. “I love you too, you know.”

Your smile deepened as you rested your head against his arm. You whispered into the small space between your faces.

“Yeah, I’ve got some idea.”

AN: All righty, how'd you like that fluff overload?

...Ready for some more drama? 😏

Next Time:

But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.

It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Winchester,” he answered.

“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”

“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”

Keep Reading: PART 16

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[wingzie]

Jikook and the Importance of Photos

Photographs are special. They map out our lives through precious memories. They leave a footprint in time that can forever be part of our history. These glimpses of our past, make us who we are and show what or who is important to us. They are full of so much love and emotions, even more so when they are shared with those most trusted to us. This goes for every photo shared by the members.

 I personally think it’s amazing that we can tell when a photo of Jimin is taken by Jungkook, there’s a certain style to it and it comes across even at a glance. One of my favourite photos of Jimin by Jungkook is this one:

This photo was taken from the behinds of Life Goes On. Each MV was beautifully directed by Jungkook, and it’s hard to miss the references made from within their old dorm. I know Jungkook isn’t keen on photos but, just like during GCFT, Jimin is looking at Jungkook and not the camera here with that smile. With that one look, that we are so familiar with, we can trace every single moment within their history which has that same shining expression. It tells a story over time, but also that one photo itself is so telling in the way that it was captured. One of my favourite photos of Jungkook by Jimin is this one:

There’s something raw and delicate in this photo.You can see it in Jungkook’s eyes. Each item in the photo tells its own little story, from the Birthday cake to the polaroid photos on the table that we never saw. This photo is all we saw from the night of Jungkook’s Birthday in 2019 and sometimes I am reminded that with these glimpses into their lives, there are still so many moments of theirs that we are unaware of. For example, Jungkook had a hickey on his neck during MOTS:Online and none of us had any idea until the DVD Behinds came out. 

For every selca or video that Jikook has shared with us, it shows a part of them that we are so lucky to witness. To be able to watch their growth over the years is magical and something I will always cherish. Why am I going on about photos and memories though?  Because they give so much of themselves to us and I will never take it for granted, nor expect them to give more to us than they want to. Some of their memories are for them only, but we can still hold dear what we know already…

Some of you know this already, but I have been caring for my Mother lately. Over the last few months, her memory has worsened. In an attempt to help, we play memory games and repeat simple tasks together. However, her memory is something that cannot be simply fixed with such methods. I had the idea to get out family photos, until I realised that we had stopped taking them when my parents divorced. It’s made me more proactive in archiving things that I do each day. Every little thing I see or hear, I note it down or save the song. In a way, it’s also how I associate with BTS or Jikook. When the BTS World soundtrack came out, I was having a really bad day and it gave me a lot of comfort. I smile whenever I hear Pied Piper because it’s one of my friends favourite songs. Any time I hear “Jungkookie” or “Jimin-ssi”, a barrage of memories come to the front of my mind and I grasp onto all of them whilst I still can. 

I'm sure it's not just me who does this either, Jimin and Jungkook probably do this themselves. You could see that when Jungkook was watching Jimin’s compilation with us. He was recollecting the same memories as us, but he also has access to an entirely different set of memories that we don’t know of. We also saw that with the way Jimin and Jungkook both explained the Rainy Day Fight. During the Festa video, Jungkook mentioned “rainy day” and expected Jimin to understand what he meant. Later on, Jimin and Jungkook gave their own versions of what happened in their separate lives. They both more or less experienced the same thing, but blamed themselves for their actions and not the other. 

They love adding to their own collections of memories. Every single time that Jimin watched Jungkook rehearse and the other way around, enough so that they could probably be a backup dancer. All the clips they have but haven’t shared. The moments we don’t find out until later, the inside jokes they have without context. We don’t understand, but that doesn’t matter. Only they have to and we just watch and smile. Their memories are a huge part of them, it’s what makes their bond so special.  

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Dear Raven ven venny ven, do you have any favourite ships in the twst cast? If so, why?

I don’t have any ships among the TWST cast that I’m crazy about! That doesn’t mean I “hate” all the combinations, it’s just that I feel neutral about most of them. I would say I’m pretty open to considering rare pairs and all kinds of tropes (enemies to lovers, childhood friends, etc.), but I’ve yet to find one in TWST that solidly lands with me.

Certainly there are dynamics I enjoy—the Science Club boys, for example—but do I see them being romantically engaged with one another? Eeeeeh, debatable. I could really go either way.

It’s actually easy to (temporarily) influence my takes on certain ships 😂 Sometimes I’ll listen to my friends talk ad nauseam about a ship they’re super into and their excitement is so infectious that it rubs off on me. I’ll go, “Wow, that really is a cute interaction! I can see why you ship them.” This had happened before with Malleus x Cater a few years back, though now I’ve returned to a neutral state on it since the shipper friend hasn’t been as active talking about the two. I appreciate my friends for popping off because even if I don’t have the same passion as they do for the ship, it helps me see the characters and their interactions under a new lens or from a different angle. (I actually wrote a fic where Cater takes Malleus to a maid cafe, inspired by my friend’s speeches about the duo. It’s meant to be platonic, but I think it could also be read as romantic if you choose to view it that way.)

I get easily influenced by fan art too, even if I don’t know the creator on a personal level. A few weeks back, I saw this Jade x Jamil post and it was so wholesome and tooth rottingly sweet (even though it was a ship I did not gave the time of day to before) 😭 And then I started to think about their similarities (both vice dorm leaders, both passive aggressive, both manipulators, etc.) and gradually convinced myself “Hey, it could work!” Now that I’ve had some time to be weaned off of the fan art though, I’m back to that baseline feeling of neutrality. It’s the exposure therapy wearing off/j

On the topic of Yuu (they’re technically a part of the TWST cast), I’m particularly lukewarm about any ships involving them—and Yuu ships are the only exception to my “I’m easily influenced to change my mind” rule; I’m always neutral about Yuu ships. They’re a blank slate, so the dynamics they have with other characters changes drastically depending on what “kind” of Yuu they are. I don’t have a Yuusona of my own, nor do I project onto Yuu, so I find little value in their character (or lack thereof). This extends to ships too; because I don’t see (my) Yuu as a “real” character, I also don’t see the potential in shipping them with those in the cast. I’ll support everyone’s right to their own Yuu and related ships, but I don’t necessarily get gung-ho about them unless I know the creators well. This is because the familiarity I have with them then extends to their Yuus; I can see bits of them and their own personalities and experiences in their Yuus, and that makes me feel like I have a more meaningful bond with whatever their interpretation (and romantic involvement!) is.

Of course, there are also some ships that I don’t like or that personally make me uncomfortable (for example, incest ships) 💦 I don’t want to like… yuck your yums, so I won’t go into explicit detail about which other ships I’m not a fan of or would prefer as platonic. Regardless of how I may feel about those, I don’t want to give the impression that I’m going to judge you for what you do or don’t ship. You do you—just be sure to respect boundaries and don’t push what you ship onto others, especially if they have indicated they’re not into the same things you are.

Just to make things clear, please do NOT send me asks like “Here is my ship and here is why you should consider it!” and “How do you feel about [Character A] x [Character B]?” or any variant (which includes polycules, love triangles, etc.). I will also not be responding to asks pressing me for which ships I dislike. I won’t be providing a tier list either since there are way too many possible combinations to account for. Shipping talk with strangers/the public makes me anxious and I’d rather not have that level of stress on a consistent basis.

Thank you for understanding ^^

[atlabeth]

unacceptable - anthony lockwood

summary: you and lockwood don't shy away from your relationship, even in your line of work. apparently, it hasn't gone unnoticed by your colleagues.

a/n: i guess i have a thing for british guys named anthony because uhhhh okay anyways enjoy this short little thing i wrote in one sitting to get used to mr lockwood

wc: 1k. feels weird writing something so short after my past exploits lol

warning(s): nothing all fluff

“Oh, thank you,” you said with a sigh of relief as Anthony brought two cups of tea over. You picked yours up and sipped it, your shoulders relaxing a bit as the liquid warmed you from the inside out. “We seriously need to fix the heating in this place. I feel like I’m constantly freezing to death.” 

Lockwood chuckled and wrapped an arm around you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Is that better?” 

“It always helps,” you said with a smile. “More than your tea, I think.” 

“You’ll be happy to know I’ve already put in a call.” He rubbed your shoulder as he talked, his proximity alone helping with your chills. “It should be fixed by the time we’re done with this job at the end of the week.”

“Thank god,” you muttered as you took another sip of tea, and you leaned your head against Lockwood’s shoulder. “You’re the best.” 

He hummed. “I try.” 

“Alright,” a voice suddenly said, and your gaze moved to see George. “That’s enough.” 

Anthony raised his eyebrows. “What?” 

George said your and Lockwood’s names, his arms crossed as he stared at the two of you, “we need to talk.” 

Your brows creased for a moment as you pulled away from Lockwood, though still keeping your hands intertwined as you leaned against the counter. “What about?” 

“Your relationship is ruining this agency,” George said simply. “It’s unacceptable.” 

Lockwood went as far as to laugh, his amusement barely concealed. “How do you think?” 

“There is obvious favoritism going on here!” he exclaimed. 

“Favoritism?” you repeated, this time laughing yourself. “That’s ridiculous.” 

“No,” George said, shaking his head, “the only ridiculous thing is how unbalanced everything’s become since you two finally got together.” 

“I hope you have examples,” Anthony said. 

“Oh,” he laughed, “oh, I have examples. Starting with right now.” He gestured with his hands in the open air. “I’ve been complaining about the broken heating for almost two weeks to no avail. Your girlfriend suggests it, and suddenly it’s on its way to being fixed.” 

Lockwood shrugged. “It’s just good timing. No biases.” 

Lucy just happened to walk in at that point, her water bottle in her hand, and George’s eyes lit up. 

“Lucy!” he exclaimed, turning his attention to her; she looked back with a faint smile as she stopped. “You’re on my side, right?” 

“Your side for what?” she asked. 

“That we’re ruining the agency with our love,” you said dryly. Anthony laughed and pulled you closer, to which George gestured blatantly with his hand. 

“Right in front of us.” He shook his head dramatically. “It’s like you don’t even care about a professional environment.” 

Lucy laughed, her eyes alight with amusement as she looked over at you two. “You do take an awful lot of time getting ready in the morning because you’re too busy fawning over each other.” 

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks. “We do not.” 

“I actually timed you this morning after you were particularly lovey-dovey yesterday,” George said. “You made us ten minutes late—I’m surprised we didn’t get a ticket trying to get over there in time.” 

“Which we did, by the way,” you said. “We actually got there early. Our client praised us for our work.”

“Like you haven’t caused us to be late plenty of times,” Lockwood added. “We’re just enjoying each other’s company.” He gave George a look. “Which you encouraged us to do before we got together, if you remember.” 

He frowned. “I did not.” 

“You did,” Lucy piped in. “You told them that being around friends while you have them is especially important in this line of work.” 

“Exactly!” George exclaimed. “They’re not exactly friends anymore, are they?” 

“I’d say we’re friends,” you frowned. “Just because he’s my boyfriend doesn’t mean I don’t like him anymore.” 

“And I certainly like her beyond a girlfriend,” Lockwood contributed. 

“Alright, we are getting off-topic,” George huffed. “My second point of your obvious favoritism—” he leveled a look at Lockwood— “you always let her sit in the front seat.” 

He shrugged. “Seniority. She’s been here the longest.” 

“Oh, that is cheap,” George complained. “Just because she founded it with you means we all have to rough it in the backseat?” 

“Yes,” Lockwood said with a smile. 

“Lucy,” he said, “we need to go on more jobs with just the two of us.” 

She chuckled. “I like the sound of that. Sitting in the back with all our equipment isn’t the most fun.” 

“We all have to make sacrifices,” you said defensively.

Lucy shrugged as she looked at Anthony. “And you do always throw yourself into danger for her, Lockwood.” 

He frowned. “I throw myself into danger for all of you. It’s in the job description.” 

“Yeah, but you always do it for your girlfriend,” George said, exaggerating your title. “You’ll push Lucy out of the way or draw your rapier for me, but you go full on action-movie hero for her. It’s honestly embarrassing, Lockwood.” 

Lockwood looked down at you with visible mirth in his eyes. “Do you think I should let you die to prove I don’t hold favorites?” 

You shrugged. “It’s only fair.” 

“You even broke our biggest rule!” George snatched the container of biscuits from the kitchen counter and held it up. “You let her have two all the time.” 

Lucy raised her finger, pointing it at the two of you with a nod. “That’s true. It’s the most unfair thing you’ve done since you two started dating.” 

“So what can we do to cure this grave injustice?” you asked with mock austerity. 

“I’m not going to stop kissing my girlfriend just because you think I’m showing favoritism,” Lockwood added dryly, “so don’t push.” 

“The biscuits,” George said immediately. “She can only have one biscuit like the rest of us.” 

You chuckled. “That’s what you’re most worried about?” 

“Yes,” he said, and he glanced at Lucy. 

She nodded. “Absolutely. Back to the single biscuit rule, no matter relationship status.” 

Lockwood looked at you with a sly smile. “What do you think, love? Willing to give it up?” 

“I think I can manage,” you said, and you gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, feeling Anthony smile into it. 

“And already, I feel order being restored to Lockwood and Co,” George said with a sigh. 

“I’m glad that’s all it took,” you laughed as you looked back at him, “because I’m keeping the front seat.” 

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator @louderfortheback

[brittle-doughie]

omg! adding what the child between the reader and cookies would be was such a nice touch!!

If you wouldn't mind could you do the same premise with pure vanilla, clotted cream, caviar, red velvet, and madeleine cookie? 👉👈 thank you, you're the best! <3

Whew, that was quite the lot of proposals to go through! You didn’t know that many cookies wanted to bake and bring your child to the world!

“Indeed, but too much attention can make you stressful, Your Majesty. I’d hate if this crowding discourages you from managing the kingdom, I’ll reiterate that this kingdom needs a ruler like you for it to prosper!”

Oh Financier and her worrying, you reassured her that you were a-okay, you weren’t going anywhere. You managed this kingdom since the beginning, no way were you backing out now.

“It’s just..you’re my top priority, Y/N Cookie. Above all others. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you ever left this kingdom…”

Financier…

“Y/N Cookie, there you are!”

You turned to see Pure Vanilla approaching you with a warm smile, you then felt a darkening presence behind you, likely Financier staring down Pure Vanilla as a shadow covered her eyes. You turned and once again placed a hand on her shoulder, nodding to her with a reassuring smile. Financier gazes in your eyes for a second before sighing and giving you a smile on return, nodding her head too.

Hello, Pure Vanilla! What brings him to you today?

“I’ve wanted to give you these!”

Pure Vanilla reached behind him and revealed flowers to you.

“These flowers matched your glow, so I’d figured it was right that I gave them to you!”

Woah, Pure Vanilla…he didn’t have to!

“I just wanted to because you’re a really wonderful friend, Y/N Cookie! I’d give you anything after all that you’ve done for me and the cookies that live here. Anything at all…like a young one for example!”

You sighed with a knowing smile to yourself. Pure Vanilla, you sly weasel.

Y/N Cookie + Pure Vanilla Cookie = Vanilla Bean Cookie

He/Him

A literal bean, the combined benevolence of both cookies formed together when Vanilla Bean was baked, learning the wonders of magic in hopes of helping his fellow cookies in any way he can!

Woah, an Ancient Cookie wishing to be the parent to your child?! Pure Vanilla, are you sure there isn’t any cookie out there more worthy then y-

“Don’t say that about yourself, you’ve always been the most worthy to me! These roses, love and kindness, are how I feel about you! When I’ve heard the news, i believed it would the perfect opportunity to confess these feelings, Y/N Cookie!”

Really?

“Really really!”

————————————————————————————

Financier wanted to reserve her judgment and keep herself from speaking her mind for your sake, but even the Ancients were wanting to participate in this competition that was brewing? It’s putting her on edge…

It only got worse as even Cookies of Darkness also look to get with you too, as Red Velvet Cookie attested to.

He had leapt out of a bush, with Chiffon on hand. Financier was ready to unsheathe her sword to defend against the evil cookie, but was halted you, letting her know that Red Velvet meant no harm, quite the opposite in fact if you were guessing correctly.

Of course, he too wished to be the one to share a child with you. A friend to all desserts was an admirable trait of yours and he wasn’t lying when he says he’s been thinking on this for a long while now!

“The cookie created between you and me will be the one to lead all desserts across the land!”

Y/N Cookie + Red Velvet Cookie = Crimson Cake Cookie

He/Him

A bonafide beastmaster, just a simple glance will have all sorts of critters join Crimson Cake’s side!This does leave him unpopular amongst properties that have a no pet rule though.

You were about to answer him when Financier held your hand and whisked you away from the cookie, causing him to follow after the two of you, clearly getting angered by Financier interrupting you.

You sighed as you stood by the sidelines, watching the two cookies devolve into arguing for a few minutes.

If the word was really out, then it’s only to get more annoying for Financier down the line.

————————————————————————————

Knight Commander Madeleine Cookie. Oh god, Financier could feel her face darken as Madeleine happily approached you with his proposal for a child, of course he had heard about the rumors going around the kingdom. Financier has her personal gripes with Madeleine, but ultimately kept it at a polite level.

Him wanting your child? Forgive her if she lets out a snarky remark or two. Madeleine wasn’t a terrible cookie, but..you could do so much more then…that.

“I wish to have a child with a cookie that I ultimately trust the most. The responsibility to create and take care of your child would be a honor and I will do nothing less but my very best to make sure they grow up to shine just as brightly as their parents!”

Y/N Cookie + Madeleine Cookie = Butter Cake Cookie

They/Them

Butter Cake wants to follow in their father’s footsteps into becoming a noble Paladin and they have your full support! Madeleine openly expresses joy for his child and isn’t afraid to show it!

Madeleine held your hand as he rambled on the joyous memories the both of you will have with your child if you grant him this wish!

————————————————————————————

Financier didn’t have to scare him off like that.

You tell Financier as you two sat at a outside table by the Latte Cafe.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty. There’s just better options then Madeleine.”

“Y/N Cookie, I’ve been hearing about ya wanting a kiddo in your life. I’ve braved many ferocious seas in my life, but the turbulent path of parenthood ain’t no cake walk. I wish to travel that path with ya if you allow me.”

Y/N Cookie + Captain Caviar Cookie = Golden Egg Cookie

She/Her

Taking a different path from her dad, Golden Egg Cookie is a swashbuckling pirate. What she also took from you is your good nature, Golden Egg is incredibly merciful, only really resorting to severe attacks if given no other option. Prefers to just yoink stuff from cookies then hurt anyone.

Ok, Financier thought Elder Captain Caviar Cookie was definitely better then Madeleine, so this was good timing that he happened to come along.

“Not so fast, Captain Caviar Cookie. I mean no disrespect when saying this, but I’d believe that matters regarding Y/N Cookie are of the most importance to me, including the right to have their children.”

The Consul as well? Eugh, Financier sighed again. She should’ve anticipated this too. Every Cookie in the kingdom must be talking about the rumors, which meant a whole lot more where that came from.

Y/N Cookie + Clotted Cream Cookie = Sour Cream Cookie

She/Her

Sour Cream would be raised with the upmost care and love within House Custard. Custard Cookie could try to mold her into the Cookie most suitable to be in charge of the House when it’s her time, but Clotted would be incredibly against anything that would hurt his kid. Sour Cream will be the kind and responsible Cookie that he knows she can be.

[luciferlightbringer]

Talk to Me

Chapter 4

Lucifer x Fem Fallen Angel Reader Word Count: 5.1k CW: Angst, trauma, trust building, slow burn, enemies to lovers(ish?), lies, curiosity Guess who is finally gonna talk to each otherrrr?

|Chapter 3|Chapter 4|Chapter 5 (Updated through Chapter 5)

As happy as you were to be back at the nice new hotel, with nice new rooms, and nice new… friends(?), that didn’t mean that there was still a lot that you were trying to get used to. A lot that still felt overwhelming.

You had gone to sleep that night feeling ready to take on getting to know the others in the hotel, even briefly said hi to a couple of them, Angel, Husk, Cherri, and Niffty. But the next morning you woke up in a panicked cold sweat, and the tightened feeling in your chest about being around sinners.

You stayed into your room for a couple days, only sneaking out to get food.

You spent much of that time moving between freaking out and trying to figure out what to do to help other sinners. You just wish you had someone to talk it out with.

As if to a sort of answer to your prayers, Charlie knocked on your door. You slowly opened the door before giving her a panicked hug. She held you close and stroked your hair.

“Charlie, I’m so sorry I have not left my room… I’ve been meaning… trying to… but… I’m still so overwhelmed… I know that no one here will cause me harm… but I can’t help but think…”

Charlie shushed you as she held you, “Hey, it’s ok. I’m not upset, don’t worry. I know that I am wanting to encourage you but also not push you too far… I’ve made that mistake before… what do you feel like you need from me?” You thought, you’d never been asked that before. You think you would usually be the one asking Emily that in the past.

“Well… talking helps…”

Charlie smiled and moved further into the room with you, closing the door, sat on your bed and patted next to her “Tell me what is on your mind.”

You went to go sit by her and sighed, “I… I don’t know… I guess the first thing is… other sinners scare me… I don’t know what to do.”

Charlie thought, “Well… other sinners can be scary, but they can also be nice too. You never know what it is that made someone come to hell. I’ve always had the thought that sinners might not always be bad people.”

You gave Charlie a confused look.

Charlie thought again, “Ok uhh… let’s take Angel Dust for example. He’s a porn star. Why do you think he became a porn star?”

You shrugged, “Because he was a pornstar on Earth?”

Charlie shook her head, “Not the case actually. What would you say if you knew he grew up on Earth in the Mafia, with no way to escape, and spent most of his energy protecting his little sister?”

“That’s… huh…well being in the Mafia is bad… but if he was trapped in it… and he was protecting his sister… then that’s good…”

“He also is protective of others here at the hotel,” Charlie added, “He is almost like an older brother to Niffty.”

You thought for a minute about this, “But… how did he end up here… as a porn star?”

Charlie shrugged, “Lots of people end up here and get pulled into the… errr rough culture of Hell. Somehow he found his way to Valentino, the Overlord of the Porn Industry, and they made a contract.”

“And the cycle continues all over again,” you realize.

��Exactly,” Charlie added.

“And he is back repeating the same mistakes, because that’s what he needed to do to survive on earth,” you perk up more.

“Yes,” Charlie adds with more excitement.

“And… if he is becoming more good at the hotel… or doing more good things… it’s because…”

“Because he has a community to help him learn that there is more outside of that place of survival. That he can have support that isn’t abusive. Support that is kind and helps him find what he wants without being evil.” Charlie added.

You felt like your brain exploded. People weren’t just bad to be bad, some people were bad because of the community around them. Your heart broke.

“Some people on earth…” you start to choke on some tears, looking at Charlie “Some people on earth… had no chance of being good in their lifetime, did they? Not because they didn’t want to, but because they did not know how? Because they were not in a life where they were able to be around good people? They were trying to be the best they could in a bad environment?”

Charlie nodded, “Exactly.”

Tears streamed down your face, his realization made you so sad and so angry. So it was not just that people chose to be good or bad? Was there a gray area in the middle?

Charlie rubbed your back as you cried. She was… surprised by your response. She would hoped it would click, but something about this made you so upset. Questioning things? She was intrigued at the thought that this was not something that was understood by all sinners, but she guessed that everyone was different in their understanding. Everyone on earth experienced such vastly different things, it was hard to consider any sort of “standard” to the human experience.

Your tears soon settled, and you continued to look onto the floor, “I want to understand more… I want to.. to hear people’s experiences more… see more of this in action. But how would I do that?”

Charlie thought, “You could… just offer people a space to talk! Like… just saying you will be there to listen? Maybe talk them through some ideas if they want that?”

You thought and nodded, “Ya… that might work, but how would I get people to want to talk to me?”

Charlie stood up and started to pace around the room as she thought, “Well… I could encourage it as part of the hotel curriculum. Maybe they can get out of other activities occasional if they talk with you. Ultimately, them talking to you would need to be for their benefit though. Not just for you learning… Hmm…” Charlie continued to pace.

“Well… I think I would have to promise not to share anything outside of that conversation with anyone,” you added.

“Right! Hmm… we might want to be careful with that though,” Charlie said, “I don’t want anyone to abuse that. Like say if someone told you about something where they want to harm someone else or the hotel? I think you wouldn’t be able to keep that secret.”

“Oh ya, good point,” that though made you a little nervous, but you had to be prepared for anything, “I would just have to tell people the rules at the beginning.”

“That sounds good.”

“Ok… I can work with that… I think I with want to brainstorm for a little while more before starting anything.”

“Totally!” Charlie perked, “It sounds like an amazing idea that we can run the idea past the others. But for this to work, it would help if you started to come out and interact with them some more, what do you say?” Charlie held out a hand.

You looked at her hand and smiled, you knew she was right. You took her hand and followed her downstairs.

You took the rest of the evening and the next few days getting to know Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Cherri, and Alastor more. Though Alastor didn’t share much about himself other than the general vibe that he was powerful and scary. But overall the others did not make you feel bad about needing some time to get used to Hell, many of them had died a long time ago but they all remembered it being hard, even though they all varied in how much they accepted their placement in Hell.

Several days later, Charlie brought up the idea of your “Talk Time” with the other members of the hotel, and they were given time to talk through their worries or concerns.

“How do you know you ain’t gonna move to conversation to what you want? How do you know you ain’t gonna judge us?” Angel asked.

“Hmm… everything in that room is about you and your story. I want to learn more and support you guys. And if you ever do feel that way, you can tell me. I’m not forcing anyone to be there, I’m there if you want to talk some someone,” you responded, “Anything you tell me, I’m gonna do everything I can to meet it with curiously, not judgement. I’m not gonna be perfect, but I wanna try.”

“How do you know you are actually going to keep our secrets? What stops you from just blabbing them to all of Hell?” Husk asked.

You thought about that, and you looked at Charlie and Vaggie. You knew there was a certain type of silence spell that was sometimes used in Heaven, mostly for people on themselves so that they would not accidental spill secrets. It’s a spell that Adam should have used when it came to the exterminations, but his pride got in the way and he didn’t. You were curious if either of them had magic like that.

“Do either of you have magic that can cause a sort of silencing spell? One that could force me to not be able to talk about certain things?”

Charlie and Vaggie looked at each other and thought. Alastor in the corner of the room gripped his cane, thinking of the magic threads that kept his own secrets locked away.

Vaggie thought of the same angelic seal that you had, she found it cruel though, but she understood the reason here. Part of her was curious about how you had thought of that so quickly, but now was not the time to dive into that.

“I do”, she said “It binds you to keeping secrets within specified parameters, like if it were to be like “You are are bound to keep the secrets of Charolette Morningstar, so long as keeping the secret would not cause harm to others.”” Or something.”

You nodded, that sounded right, “Can we try it so everyone can see?”

Vaggie nodded and began the spell, saying it the same thing she had said before, then she prompted Charlie to tell you a small secret. Charlie came up and in your ear whispered “I accidentally used Vaggie’s toothbrush one time before we were officially dating and I’ve never told her and I feel really bad about it.” You wanted to laugh because it was such an innocent secret, but your face remained neutral.

You turned to the group and attempted to say the secret but all that happened was your lips sealed shut and a red X marked over your mouth, silencing you for a moment before disappearing. You tried it again, and the red X appeared. You looked out to the group.

“Any further questions or concerns?” You ask the group.

“Will that happen for anything we tell you?” Niffty added.

Vaggie answered, “I can set it just so it happens involving information said when you are in her room, this will also incentivize you all to only talk to her about heavy stuff during times you meet with her, so that you aren’t just randomly coming up to her. Got it?”

The rest of the group nodded.

“How long will we have to talk to ya for?” Angel asked.

You shrugged, “As long as you like I guess, but I might have to cap it at some point. We will workshop it and see how it goes. I’m gonna start offering it a couple days a week and then I’ll increase time as I feel ready for it.”

That seemed to be the end of the questions for now. There was always room for more questions.

You started your open office hours the next day, your door was open and you were just hanging out in your room. No one came in for most of the day, but closer to the end of the day, Angel came walking in.

“Hey,” Angel said in the doorway.

“Hey! You wanna come chat?” You ask.

“Not really, but yes… but Husk said it might be a good idea, let’s get Vaggie going with that silence spell though,” Angel added. You called for Vaggie, she set the spell, and then you and Angel were alone to talk.

Angel sat in silence for a few minutes, thinking. He sighed, “I talk ‘bout my shit all the time but I don’t know where ta even start ‘ere” he buries his face in his hands.

You thought a moment, “How about today? Is there something that is bothering you today? You said Husk told you to come up here.”

Angel sighed, “Alright, buckle in toots.” Angel started by telling you about his boss, Valentino, being an absolute monster to him. You asked some questions and Angel went back into the details of how he ended up on the end of Val’s chain. How he had arrived to Hell much like you did, scared and alone, although he figured some of his family was down here, but he didn’t want much to do with them. There was no hotel then, and all he knew was finding someone in power to protect him.

He got a job in Val’s company since he knew sex and acting were things he could do, and he quickly gained the favor of Val. But Val didn’t just like him, he was obsessed with him, Angel had to live with him and be on call basically 24/7 for shoots and for Val personally. Protection didn’t matter if it wasn’t protecting him from the biggest threat in his life, which had become Val himself. But he was trapped, he learned about the hotel and got set up over here. The hotel was the only remotely safe place he had now and he was thankful for that. He then went quiet.

“I understan-“ you started to say.

“No! No you don’t! No one does. Don’t hit me with that crap, I get it all the time,” Angel snarked as he crossed his arms.

You wanted to snap at him but you took a breath, remembering this isn’t about you, that’s probably his pain.

“You’re right,” you said. He looked up at you with surprise and confusion, “You’re totally right, I’m sorry, I don’t… I guess I mean… I see your pain, I hear your suffering… I see you Angel. You just wanna be safe.”

He stared at you a moment and nodded “Ya.”

“And you want to have people around you that will want to protect you?”

He nodded again, his arms going more slack, “Ya.”

“And if you took part in the battle with Heaven, I’m gonna guess you have found that here, and you wanna protect them, too. Right?”

He nods, fighting the tears that welled in his eyes, “Heh… I’m glad you got that silence spell, wouldn’t want everyone to know how mushy I am.”

You shrugged “I think many of them would appreciate it, but that is up to you.”

Angel smiled “So uhh… let me know when ya office is open again. Kay? This… didn’t completely suck.”

You smiled, and walked him to the door. Once he left you closed the door and sighed, that was a lot, but it was good. You didn’t have long before there was a knock on your door.

You opened the door to see a short young man with short slicked back blond hair, a sharp smile, and button up and a suit vest, there were red dots on his checks like Charlie, did she have a brother?

“Hiya! Haha, I apologize for the intrusion, I hope I didn’t startle you. I was in the neighbor and came to say hi to Charlie and she said you were taking times for people to come and just chat with you so I thought I would came say hi!”

“Oh! Well wonderful, and… you are?” You asked.

“I’m sorry, weird are my manners, I’m Lucifer!” he said sticking out a hand.

You were suddenly full of fear and took a step back, “Lucifer…” You felt yourself trip and start to fall backwards. You anticipate hitting the floor but you stop just short as Lucifer catches you, a worried look on his face. Time feels like it slows for a second as he holds you up and you look at each other. He quickly sets you down and takes a step back.

“I’m so sorry… I really didn’t mean to scare you… I promise I just wanted to come say hi. Connect the face to the name. (Y/fn), right? Charlie mentioned you. And I wanted to give you this!” He pulls out a simple rubber duck.

You were just looking him up and down, trying to make sense of the image in front of you, and then the rubber duck. This soft and small person was the terrifying Lucifer? Why did he have a rubber duck?

“Yes that’s me. Wait. You are Lucifer?” You asked.

Lucifer nodded, “The one and only!”

You blinked and thought more, “But… you’re not scary? Do you make yourself not look scary?”

Lucifer looked at himself and chuckled “No this is how I normally look, I actually have to try to make myself look scary.”

“So you can be scary?”

Lucifer shrugged, “Yes, but I don’t like to. I’m guessing they still draw me as big and muscular with horns and fire and all of that on Earth?”

You thought back to the few depictions you had seen of Lucifer around Heaven, each one a more terrifying depiction from the last, and you made a face. “You could say that, lots of goat and snake like monsters.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes, “Eh. Of course. I can look like elements of that, but half the time I swear they are just drawing Satan and slapping my name on him. He’s like a big goat man, Sin or Wrath. He runs the Wrath ring downstairs.” He set down the rubber duck on the table next to the door. “Anyways, I just wanted to thank you for joining Charlie’s hotel. We weren’t sure we were going to get more after the extermination news. How did you find us?”

Damn you needed a good excuse, what was the one you had told Charlie the other day? You started to stand back up as you responded. “I uhh… heard something about it from the group of sinners that… beat me up. Not in a positive way but I thought I would check it out. I’m glad I did, Charlie has been so kind to me.”

Lucifer frowned, “I’m sorry to hear about your attack but I’m glad that you have found comfort with my daughter. She has such a gentle heart.” He smiled as he thought about his daughter.

You watched his eyes shine as he talked about her. Seriously, who was this guy? This gentle and kind person was the most hated being in all of creation? This was the man whose name was akin to a cursed word in the heavens. The longer you were here, the less sense things were making, and the more angry it made you.

Lucifer looked at you and noticed the grimace on your face, “Uhh… everything ok?”

You snapped back to the present and realized how twisted in frustration your face was. “Uhh… ya! I just… still have some pain I’m dealing with. Nothing to worry about.”

Lucifer looked at the light wrap on your arm and opposing leg, no longer full casts but a little wrap, “May I take a look?”

You hesitated, and he sensed it. “I wouldn’t hurt you. Some angels just have healing powers, I just want to see if your bones settled the right way.”

You paused, and then offered your arm “No cuts please.”

Lucifer nodded, “No cuts.” He walked forward and took your forearm in both hands and closed his eyes, focusing in on your bones. He could sense that this one was healing correctly, but he let out some power and finished up the healing process.

You were so nervous to be this close to him, but something about his soft touch was so disarming. He was warm and gentle. The light startled you, but then a wave of relief came over your arm. His hands slipped away and you tried moving it. It was good as new! You beamed a smile looking at it.

Lucifer smiled seeing you ease up a little around him. “Want me to do your leg next?” You looked at him and nodded.

You sat on the bed, and he knelt down to take your lower leg in his hands, closing his eyes again. This time you looked more over his features as he turned into your injury, your curiosity over him was just eating at you. And even more so… they did he almost feel familiar?

“Hmm,” he hummed. “Were you walking on this injury?”

“Uhh… ya, why?” You responded. “Why? Is something wrong?”

He looked up at you, “The bones are not healing correctly in line, that is probably what is causing more pain here.”

“That’s not good… is there a way to fix it?”

“There is… but I would have to separate the bones again to be able to heal them back in the right place. You wouldn’t feel pain but it’s not pleasant. It will feel better after that though,” he said looking into your eyes.

You grabbed at your shoulder, remembering the break of your wing. You swallowed hard, could you trust the devil?

You nodded.

He nodded, set his hands in place, and prepared you, his magic beginning to glow again. Before you knew it, there was a quick pop and then a cooling sensation of healing again. You both exhaled and then smiled at each other.

You stood up and tested your leg, you could put your weight on it without pain again! You spun around and smiled.

Lucifer smiled again, warmth filling his heart as we felt like he was actually able to do something nice for you. Filling some sense of an unpaid debt of some kind.

“I’m glad you are feeling better, anything else? I noticed you grabbed your shoulder, I could-“

“No!” You stopped your dance and held your shoulder away. Lucifer pulled back with a look of worry on his face.

“I mean… I’m sorry, it’s nothing. An old injury from… my old life. Nothing something that is actually there. Just something I think of,” you looked over the worry and pain on his face. “Shit… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to yell…”

“No it’s ok, haha, I get it, old pains from a past life and all…” Lucifer thought off, thinking of the fall.

You looked over his face again, there was something so deep about his pain, it intrigued you. It was funny how little you had known about pain as a concept just a month ago, but now, your hunger for learning about it was unmatched. You couldn’t understand what made people actually good until you realized that also made them bad, and pain and suffering seems to be a big factor. Looking at the harbinger of pain and suffering himself, it made you so curious as to what started it all.

“Hey,” you said, Lucifer looked up at you. “My… my talk times are available for everyone at the hotel, so… that includes you. If you ever want to talk about things that have happened to you… my door is open. Just… maybe not today. My last appointment was uhh… a lot. With-“ you tried to say Angel’s name but your mouth sealed shut and a red X appeared over your mouth.

Lucifer was startled by the angelic red X that he remembers seeing on the elders sometimes in the past. After a moment the X disappeared

“Sorry, silence spell. I forgot I can’t even say the name of who I last talked to. Vaggie helped me set it up,” you rubbed your mouth, that feeling was not pleasant.

“Oh interesting, so you have parameters set to not share what people let you during the talk time?” Lucifer asked. You nodded. He thought and then smiled.

“Alright, I’ll come talk to you. I’ll see you in a few days then.” He gave you a wink and then wished you goodbye before teleporting downstairs to grab his hat and coat, and saying goodbye to the others before teleporting back home.

You sighed and flopped on your bed after Lucifer left. You had met the King of Hell and lived to tell the tale. He was so unlike anything you expected. You were still a little wary of him, but the way you didn’t sense a single bit of malice or trickery about him. Just… kindness and…sadness… lots of sadness… He felt so much like Charlie, but also… not.

You thought again to the look in his eyes, the gentle way he talked about healed you, especially your leg, he could have just snapped it and healed it, but he took the time to talk you through it. You actually thought to keep that in might when talking to people, you could probably approach conversations like that.

But beyond that, he, like his daughter, respected when you said no to him looking at your shoulder. He wasn’t just searching to make you “perfect” he wanted you to have a say in things. That felt so unusual, that was something you had very little of in Heaven.

Then there was the biggest part that bothered you. Why did he feel familiar? Vaggie you could understand, she could have been a face in the crowd of Heaven that you just didn’t pick up on and she slipped your memory in the years since she was kicked from the service of Heaven. But how could Lucifer feel familiar? He fell before you were created. Had you met at another point still?

You remembered the day you came into being, your eyes opening and Sera welcoming you, explaining your role, and being introduced to Emily.

Emily… your heart hurt to think of her, your closest… friend. Tears welled up in your eyes. How you missed her. You wished she was ok. You wondering if she thought of you. If she still suffered. Or if she had just forgotten you at this point and moved on.

You shook your head, no, Emily was not like that, she wouldn’t forget you after almost 10,000 years of friendship.

You sighed and rolled onto your side, your eyes caught sight of the rubber duck Lucifer had left. You smiled. What a curious thing, and what a curious man. You floated the duck over to you and looked at it as you laid there. You realized you never thanked him for the gift. How rude of you. You would have to remedy that next time you talked with him. You smiled at the thought as you drifted to sleep.

—————————————————————-------------------------------

Lucifer returned home and flopped on his bed again, a swirl of emotions mixed up in his stomach. On the one hand he was grateful for another pleasant visit to the hotel, and a chance to meet and interact with you. On the other… there were some things he just couldn’t wrap his head around.

On the more positive end, he was glad the you seemed like a kind sinner, which also confused him, because kind and sinner should not mix, but he also didn’t even know what the threshold was for people ending up here anyway. He knew from getting to know the other sinners at that hotel that some people just had a rough exterior, but you didn’t even seem to have that. Your biggest thing seemed to be that you were very afraid of him.

He had hoped that by the end of your conversation he had put you a little more at ease. He thought that maybe you had grown up in a cult or something, that would explain many of the behaviors. Growing up with an idea of a deity that should be feared above all else or else the “monstrous devil” would steal their soul.

Pfft. As if. He had better things to do than deal in the trading of mortal souls.

Anyways, ya that was probably the case. He was just glad that you were feeling better about your limbs and you offering some of your time to talk with him. He almost found it amusing to think about talking to a mortal about his problems. As if they could even comprehend it. But it would be nice to talk to some things outside of Charlie and his rubber ducks, although the ducks were great listeners.

The things that bothered him about his visit were… interesting. The more simple part was your reaction to him looking at your shoulder. He understood the idea of an old injury but… that reaction didn’t pan out with an old one, but a new one. A traumatizing one. You hadn’t been here for long, so what could have happened to have caused such a reaction? One that you didn’t want touched or healed if it was as fresh as your other injuries? Or was it even fresher? Had a rogue exorcist gotten to you? There was no way of telling. Maybe once he had built up more trust with her, he would have more of a chance to get that question answered.

Then there was the bigger reason for his discomfort, why did you feel familiar to him, and why did you feel off to him? He had only recently started interacting with sinners and you were new to Hell, so that couldn’t be it. Maybe he had seen you in the past when he had taken a trip to Earth before with… ugh, maybe? That also seemed like a stretch. Maybe you just reminded him from someone, that was probably it. Someone from a long time ago maybe?

Curse this depression brain fog, it made trying to remember anything impossible. What was your name again? (Y/fn)? That didn’t ring any bells, so you must have just reminded him of someone, it was gonna drive him crazy.

Oh well, for now that would just have to remain a mystery for another day.

______________________________________________________________

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[aleksanderscult]

Hello, I started following your blog pretty recently and I agree with most of what you think. I felt so confused when I finished the books and came on tumblr to see everyone hailing malina as the perfect relationship and I was glad to know that I wasn't the only one who disliked him.

I wanted to ask you something, im not sure if I saw this on this blog, but someone said that zoya is an example of toxic feminism in YA fantasy. Which checked out to me, but it also felt that bardugo added misogyny, feminism and toxic feminism in the SaB series.

Misogyny since alina had to face sloot-shaming in every book (almost entirely by Malyen ugh 😒). I felt that she really tried and suceeded to be feminist with genya, since she actually stood up for herself and had many facets to her personality. She also wasn't an important character just because of her beauty or anything super superficial. Genya IS a strong female character, and she wasn't 'broken' by the king, despite the foul things he did.

But zoya.. my god, I really wanted to like her, but I just couldn't. She is mean and hot headed to the point where I really don't see any redeeming factors to her. I always liked 'mean girl character who isnt as shallow as she seems' in fantasy novels, but she didnt exactly have a redemption arc either. If the darkling had warned her about expanding the fold in the first book, she would have fought for him. I think she isnt a strong female character, but just a girl who is a bully and decided to help mc since the antagonist hurt her specifically. She doesnt even think of the other casualties of novokribirsk. I think the 'break nikolais heart, I'll comfort him and make a magnificent queen' part was a joke, but still....

Please excuse my yapping. I haven't read crooked kingdom and nikolais duology, so I don't know if the characters had any developement since then, so please ignore any innacuracies of this text pertaining to that. Do you have any thoughts on this?

(Do you allow emoji annons? If so, can I be 🎀 annon?)

(Of course I do! You can use any emoji you want and ribbons remind me of coquettish things 😍)

Genya in S&B was my favorite version of her. She was traumatised by the King's abuse, that's true. But she wasn't solely that.

(Here's a meta about that version of her that I once did)

She was very brave, vengeful, intelligent, politically aware, had a sense of humor and was kind. There were different aspects to her personality and wasn't solely "the victim" as many fans of the Grishaverse like to portray her. But in Nikolai's duology Bardugo either forgot how to write complex situations within a court or just doesn't know how to (or it doesn't suit her 🙃).

She threw all the blame to the Darkling (as if he was entirely at fault for her sexually abuse), forgot that Grisha were serfs meant to please and serve the royal family (hence why the Darkling gave her to the Queen) and also forgot how it was the Queen who withdrew her protection and allowed her husband to abuse her. Also, a slight amnesia to how Genya herself decided to stay and take revenge. Essentially, the character became Leigh's mouthpiece to remind the reader that the Darkling is a heartless motherfucker that is undeserving of redemption. How banal.

Now about Zoya. Zoya is the typical female character that we encounter in media nowadays. A girlboss that kicks ass, is rude, has no sensitivity and threatens everyone. Again, cliché. But Leigh broke her own in-universe laws when she gave Zoya the protagonist's role.

Meaning:

The narrative with Alina as a protagonist: "You can't have feelings for your enemy!! You can't be independent! You need to depend on your toxic, childhood friend and...what is this? Power?? You took three amplifiers?? WELL SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR POWERS THAT KEEP YOU HEALTHY AND STRONG!!"

The narrative with Zoya as a protagonist: "Take the amplifiers, take the power to turn into a dragon, let's also have a Saint in your head giving you advice and guess?!? You just got promoted into a Queen and soon enough you will marry the love of your life!! Kudos!!"

That's basically what happened.

It would be an amazing end if only:

- Otkazat'sya didn't hate the Grisha's guts.

- Zoya had the qualities of a leader and a Queen instead of being handed the throne on a silver plate from an illegitimate son who failed in his job.

- The author didn't break her own rules just to prove and show how "awesome" her protagonists are.

- The same author didn't copy paste the storyline of Daenerys Targaryen into Zoya's (somehow she needed to appear cool and sympathetic)

- Half of the fandom didn't hate the primary protagonists now than they ever did before.

So basically Leigh infuriated the fandom even more about Alina's fate when she gave Zoya everything.

And about your question if the characters had any development in the later books after the trilogy. I've got some bad news, my friend. 🥲

[recklesslycaffeinated]

Sans and Alastor

I’ve been thinking a lot about Sans and Alastor. Or Sans versus Alastor. But not who’d win in a fight (Sans) or who’d win Eurovision (Alastor). I’ve been thinking about them as characters, because that’s what I do.

At the heart of it, it boils down to this. Sans is a fundamentally good person living in a fucked-up world just doing his best. Alastor is a fundamentally evil person living in a fucked-up world also doing his best.

Dorks – Let’s get the most obvious one out of the way - they’re both dorks. Come on, both pun! Okay, Sans puns ad nauseam and Alastor claims he does in Hell’s Greatest Dad. Alastor has the dork part more than covered by his massively adorable poses when he’s just hanging out.

Big Smile, Scary eyes! – These loveable dorks are all fun and games. I mean, look at them, they’re always smiling! Until they turn on the scary eyes and you know not to fuck with them. This is the peek behind the curtain. The warning. Obviously, they could kill you right there and then, but why expend the effort when a dose of scary eyes will do the trick. Then it’s right back to a big old smile.

Dirty fighters – Paragons and Paladins need not apply. Both Sans and Alastor know the important thing about a fight is that they survive it. If that means avoiding a fight with bad odds, when it becomes unavoidable, using every trick in the book, that’s what they’re going to do. There’s no honour here. Sans is going to get in a massive attack before you’re even able to click a button and Alastor is going to hurl his minions at Adam – go get ‘em, boys!

Always a bigger fish – So far you’d think these guys have it all. Not so. These guys are living in an oppressive world and they’re not the top of the heap. If they were invincible, we wouldn’t be rooting for them as much. No need for cheerleaders if you can’t fail. I can’t tell you how many Let’s Play Genocide Runs I’ve seen where the Player is screaming for joy when they finally kill Sans… only to look suddenly horrified and miserable at his death. Alastor got his ass kicked by Adam, but I’m thinking more of the reveal that the big bad bully who scared Husk half to death is, himself, in a deal and isn’t happy about it. I’m sure that gave a lot of people immediate empathy with him.

Thinking outside the box – Sideways thinking has always been a trait of interesting characters and we’re invited into their minds to see a little of how they view the world. As a deal making demon, this is kind of Alastor’s whole shtick – he’s always finding the angles. For me, I think it’s the moment he gets Charlie on a deal which won’t involve her ‘harming’ anyone – which is a loophole so large you could drive a double-decker bus through it.

The best example for Sans is the fact that he and he alone of all the Monsters dodges. This is clearly not something Monsters understand or do. I have my own pet theory for why this is, but either way, Sans is not thinking the way he’s expected to.

Ultimate power – Sans and Alastor who could literally destroy you and everything you’ve ever known. They’re adorable silly boys with the power to bend reality.

However, this is where a key difference comes in. Because what’s important is their goals. In other words, what they’re using their ultimate power for. On the Genocide Run, Sans is trying to frustrate the Player long enough that they give up and Reset, bringing back his friends and family. Alastor is after hell domination. Maybe in series to come, we’ll find out it’s actually to ensure that bunnies and kittens can roam free… but I doubt it.

Does this make Sans better than Alastor? Well, ask a Player who’s been trying to win Sans’s fight for years who annoyed them more, Alastor in Hazbin of the Sans on their computer.

This isn’t me, FYI. I can’t do the Genocide run. If I had to hurt Papyrus, I don't know what I'd do. Turn off the computer and never use it again. I also almost cried when I accidentally killed Toriel on my first run. I immediately Reset and Flowey mocked me for it. Bastard.

[katebeckets]

fun fact i’m asking about your jewellery please do share

bestie thank you for asking me!! (i know this is like a month old, it made me happy knowing it was here and i wanted to take time to answer lol)

i was thinking about this a lot yesterday as I wrote my first fic because i kept laughing, thinking "of course this is what I write about" given my own personal attachment to jewelry. in fact, the song I titled the fic after ("Mine" by Phoebe Ryan) kind of speaks to why I love jewelry so much.

the main point of it is that all my day-to-day jewelry is symbolic! in some ways, it started because I always loved the idea of tattoos, but I'm pretty indecisive to begin with (and my grandparents don't like tattoos, which doesn't mean I won't ever get a tattoo but there was never a tattoo I felt strongly about getting right this moment). I really liked the idea of having tangible reminders of things so I could look at my rings or bracelets or put my hand over my necklace and be reminded of whatever the jewelry was symbolizing. it also has some significance to how I've grown and changed over time.

the rest of the story + pictures/examples will be under the cut <3 (warning that my face might be in some lol I'm just using what's already on my camera roll)

🩵

I mostly have rings and necklaces, which I've been wearing since high school. My bracelets are kind of the key to this story because of the fact that I never wore bracelets until I got a specific bracelet in 2018, but after I got that one bracelet, I have never gone without them since.

Basically, I had a very hard goodbye in 2018, and I wanted to get a piece of jewelry to remind me of that person. I usually would go with a necklace, but I didn't want to have to choose between my new necklace and other symbolic necklaces I have. That's how I decided on a bracelet. Since I never wore any bracelets, I'd never have to choose. I now have 5 bracelets that I never take off (and it's fluctuated in the years since 2018, I think the most I've had at once that are constantly on my wrist is 8?). So it felt symbolic not only because of it being a bracelet, but because there are people that came into my life since then that are very important to me and have never known me without my bracelets, yet the person who is the reason I wear bracelets never knew me as someone who wore bracelets (and I think in my head it became more symbolic because it wasn't gradual, either). So. Here are a million pics! There are fandom ones at the end that are fun (I think)

bracelets

[left] the bracelet that started it all. it has gone through many iterations, mostly to the one on the right so that I could start adding more bracelets. [right] on the right there's also pearl and tanzanite (tanzanite is my favorite), a bracelet that says "hang in there" with a semicolon (an inside joke with someone important to me, and I used to be a gymnast so the irony of "hang in there" on a bar bracelet made me smile), and the butterfly one is from my younger sister.

[left] the colorful bracelet is from my best friend. it's rose gold, so I put it on my right hand and started getting more rose gold/mixed rose gold and gold jewelry. the North Star was part of a gift (I gave someone a matching one) and is an homage to If/Then: "you're my North Star, my map to grace." [middle] I have a ton of morse code jewelry now because then I could put names or phrases without people asking me about it. some phrases/names I have: Amber, Bernadette, I will if you will, everything changes, even now. the heart is a handwritten piece of jewelry. [right] this one shows my garden bracelet! The Language of Flowers is my favorite book, so I use my favorite flower dictionaries to choose flowers based on meaning, which is why I have a lot of flower jewelry. The bracelet has peony, snowdrop, poppy, daisy, and baby's breath.

[left] new bracelets are a cremation bracelet with some of my grandmother's ashes and one with stones representing the asexual pride flag. [right] I gave a matching "E" bracelet to a client a few years ago when we said goodbye and I read The Invisible String. The bottom is a variation of a morse code bracelet.

rings

[left] tanzanite with oak leaves! tanzanite is my favorite but can also be a december birthstone. one of the meanings of my focal child's name (a baby I became really close with when I did my case study for my minor) is strength, which is the meaning of oak leaves. [middle] my current therapist's name is Amber. [right] it's hard to tell, but the stone is pink! I got it when I graduated undergrad because it meant saying goodbye to the Pink Room (infant classroom where I worked).

fandom

[criminal minds] emily prentiss inspired earrings

[ant man & the wasp] hope van dyne inspired necklace

[wicked] wicked day last year: glinda bubble necklace, ring that reminds me of glinda's wand, watermelon tourmaline ring

the x-files [left] scully inspired cross necklace [middle] bee & disk that says "believe" (getting a sunflower one that I'll probably add or trade out with the bee to be more consistent with my other necklaces) [right] x pendant

[castle, left] rose (flowers in Beckett's wedding bouquet, 7x06; various meanings) and Beckett's badge number [the mentalist, right] orchid, date I joined tmsource

one I want to see if anyone can guess if you get this far! 😆

[armoredtitanmistress]

𝙖 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙦𝙪𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙙 | ᴛᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ| fleeting thoughts

pairings: toji x gojo!reader

summary: yuki loves to make you overthink

tags/genre: toji x gojo!reader, gojo’s older sister, pre-star plasma vessel arc/star plasma vessel arc, suggestive language (thanks to Toji, of course), explicit language, symbolism (?),, satoru being a little brat (are we surprised?), strangers to friends to ?, fluff, 2nd person point of view, the first person point of view switches are intentional!.

warnings: 4.1k word count, alluding to sexual content, yuki tsukumo (yes she deserves a warning)

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“They’re bug bites.” Your words were clean-cut. Your nostrils were flared and your eyebrows tense in position.

Thankfully, Satoru is inconsistent. He reigns as the strongest sorcerer of the era with an intellect that can only be matched by his predecessors. He had the foresight to determine a threat from miles away. His eyes saw all and that included the college of hickeys adorning your neck that fine morning. He was idiotic enough to fall for the shitty excuse you made or maybe that was his age peeking through.

The honored one didn’t bat an eyelash to your excuse. Instead, he showed concern for your predicament and gave you suggestions for the future like purchasing bug repellent, longer-sleeved shirts and long pants. He even suggested not going to the garden as often to not encounter any more bugs. You appreciated his suggestions and said you’d implement them moving forward. 

As for Toji, it was Toji. He gave that lackluster apology and laughed in your face when you told him what had been the aftermath. Nothing out of the ordinary for two emotionally unavailable kids in their early twenties. 

Rendezvous like that night came often. You had no plans of changing the spontaneity of your relationship. It made it fun, you could even go as far as to say, it was thrilling. 

If it wasn’t obvious, you guys were still friends. I know, hard to believe considering how indecent your relationship had become but it’s true.

For example, you guys still hung out per the normal routine. The garden was your home in the morning and you’d only meet at each other’s places at night, his place more than yours for obvious reasons, to have sex. It was a boundary you created and so far there haven’t been any issues. 

“Getting better with those clippers, Zenin. I’m seeing an increase in pay in your future.” You patted his back as you watched him trim your bushes symmetrically. He has come a long way from where he started and you believed it was due to your constant reprimanding.

You wore a red tank top and denim shorts. Don’t worry, you had a separate change of clothes that you were going to change into once you returned to the compound. 

He whistled as you walked past him to water some flowers, “Your body is enough to keep me satisfied.”

You squatted down to twist the knob of the hose and scoffed, “It's amazing how you managed to decrease your pay in less than 10 seconds.”

“It’s one of my many talents.”

“Mind if I take off my shirt, it’s fucking scorching out here.” He complained, fingers at the hem of the shirt trying to attach any sort of cool air onto his body.

You wave a hand, "Go right ahead, nothing I haven’t seen before.”

One of the many talents he was referring to had to be how he managed to always surprise you. It hadn’t hit you that every time you had borne witness to his naked body it was either dark or you were too entranced in the moment to notice the countless scars that made up a constellation of their own on his body.

You stared at his body with your mouth ajar and allowed the water from the hose to run freely on the ground. Though you weren’t a healer, you knew that among the healed scars and open wounds that had to have happened a few days ago.

“I’m sorry but there is an added fee if you want to gawk at me.” He joked, unaware that your stare was anything but flattering.

“Doll?”

“At your age, you’d think you would be better at taking care of yourself.” You chide, eyes narrowing at the gashes on his figure.

“Huh?” His eyes follow yours and they land on what you had been staring at.”It naturally comes with the territory.”

You rolled your eyes and challenged, “Do you even try to block?” 

He grits his teeth at your insinuation and lets his fingers graze his wounds, “My body is resistant to shit like this.” 

You direct the hose to one of the fresh wounds on his body and he instantly recoils at the abrupt impact.

“What the hell was that for?” He hissed as his upper body slumped forward in pain. 

You bit your tongue but kept your words firm, “Your Heavenly Restriction has its limits. You’re resistant to a lot but you’re still human.”

“Whether I live or die it’s all the same.”

Toji did know he had his limits. He is human. As are you. That’s why he knows Death taunts him more than the average person. It’s the curse his Heavenly Restriction had given him. It’s why he doesn’t care. Life was a game to be played and his difficulty level was maxed out.

You sighed to resign yourself from agreeing, “Be it as it may, this garden can’t be maintained by myself.”

You shifted the knob off and pushed yourself up with your hands on your knees. You inspected his figure again and taunted, “What do you even use to fight?” 

He didn’t seem like the kind to lug around a weapon or have any sort of armory to defend himself. He must’ve used his Heavenly Restriction to his advantage and wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, your situation with him acting as evidence of his ignorance.

He scoffed while he began to compose himself not without holding the side you had hydro-blasted. 

He looked off into the patches of lilies to his right and shrugged, “It’s situational. Sometimes hand-to-hand and other times weapons.”

You hum and make your way over to him. He recognized what you were gonna do and stepped closer to you to give you space to activate your reversed cursed technique. Your hands glowed and hovered over his abdomen as you tried to make a visual count of the amount of healing you would have to do.

Somehow your eyes landed on the scar on the left corner of his lip, you parted your mouth to ask but he took notice of where your eyes had focused on and pleaded with his own that you remained silent. The question died on your tongue.

“Looks like you just wanted an excuse to feel up on me. You know, we’ve done much worse. Your sense of shame should be zero when it comes to me.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek before stomping on his foot (undoubtedly hearing a yelp from the man even if he denied it),  “An infection must’ve spread to your brain because right now you’re living in delusion.”

“This reminds me of that time when you were 12 and you found a bunny limping on its foot and you bit your lip so hard trying to stop yourself from crying.” He teased as he stared at the crown of your head that resembled a mountain of snow.

You had finished with your garden work early and were about ready to turn in for the night when you saw the bunny struggling to move at the gate of the garden. At the time, you were a novice when it came to your reversed curse technique and didn’t want to risk injuring the bunny even more than it already was. You felt hopeless in the situation. All you could do was take it into the garden and feed it whatever herbs you had lying around. You remember staying in the garden that night and pleading with the stars to heal the bunny. You ended up falling asleep and when you woke up the next day you saw the bunny hopping around you.

You cringed hard at the memory, not because you felt shame for what you did but because he had to be there to witness it,  “I was 12, I didn’t know I was being conned.”

You were a pretty emotional child in the years that you were still an only child. Never in public, obviously. The garden was therapy for you and whenever you would go in there you would inevitably be found crying. You’re just grateful that Toji hadn’t seen those moments or if he had he didn’t tell you.

You felt his laugh boom through your fingers, “I thought I was hitting a gold mine when I thought I was going to see a Gojo cry.”

“Instead of helping me, you decided to pray for my downfall? Typical Zenin.” 

“You’ve met enough Zenins to know that’s all we’re good for.”

He made a valid point. You forget that there was a time when neither one of you knew each other. It’s childish to think it took Satoru to acknowledge his presence for you to acknowledge him. You don’t know why, you never knew why. 

As I write this, I have my theories but if you read them you’d classify them as propaganda.

His wounds were worse than he let on. Any other normal person would’ve died within hours of having them. You had to agree with him and say that his body had an ungodly immunity to lethal injuries. His resistance did not mean that healing the wounds would be easy. 

“Be careful.” You whispered barely louder than the air that cascaded through the trees. You didn’t intend to be heard. It’s why you let your eyes ponder on your hands. 

“Awe sounds like you care about me more than you let on, sweetheart.” If you had made eye contact you would’ve seen the expression he was giving you that would contradict the tone he had spoken in.

You shook your head, finishing up healing the last wound. You looked to make sure that you hadn’t missed anything and thankfully you hadn’t. The need to be breaths away from him was gone and you made sure to deviate from his insinuations.

“I just would’ve thought you would’ve had some sort of normalcy in your life after you left.”

“I was destined for this lifestyle. Tengen didn’t give me this body to waste on being a salesman.”

“But isn’t that why you left? For something different? Something normal.” You questioned. You imagine that’s why people move countries when they want to go to college or when they move cities for their jobs. No one can be satisfied being in one place forever and as humans we change.

“Speak for yourself. You think too highly of me.” 

Toji pitied you. He ridiculed you for comparing yourself as a star but you were the epitome of a star. You glisten at night with only a select few that witness you but come morning the whole world has shifted their focus on the sun. If space lost all of its stars the world would notice but if they see one flickering they would gawk at its beauty. 

That’s what he gets the privilege of witnessing. He admires you as you cut pieces from a plant, hacking away the spikes on the side before placing them in a miscellaneous bag you had found on the handle of your shed. 

“I won’t be here forever.” He takes the plant from your hands and watches you clear your throat,

“This is Aloe Vera, cut in the middle and uses the sap to heal any non-life threatening wounds.”

You wait to hear a response from him but when don’t you turn to walk away to gather your belongings.

You wave a calm hand at him, “I have a mission soon. See you later.”

He cuffed his hands over his mouth and called out, “Try not to die.”

You flip him off and call back, “Counting on it.”

Just like a star, you were gone, and the moon waited a bit before you disappeared to leave too.

—------------------

Special Grades missions are routinely the only kind of curses you deal with. If you deal with anything of a lower grade it’s because it’s highly speculated that the curse might be stronger than it is or a fairly new manager is mocking your strength. You’re the only registered Special Grade sorcerer. At least, the only one that does their job. Yuki is a Special Grade but refuses to take missions and instead takes “passion projects” or whatever she calls it. Her purpose was to get rid of curses altogether. She believed there was no use in dealing with them one by one when she could get to the route of the problem. She was a researcher. Again, all her words.

That’s why you were left alone to handle the baggage of the world. The locations of these missions were always similar; in an abandoned building and far away from civilization. This one was no different. An abandoned warehouse in the middle of rural Japan.

The Special Grade was cocky. By that, it made its presence known from the get-go. It had the physique of a human but the skin color of a smurf. Its head was upside down and its face was shaped between a hybrid of a deer and an ostrich. It was a sight for sore eyes much like any other curse.

It had the advantage of being able to see from different angles and ultimately that’s what it took for you to win. It took less than 10 minutes to get the job done. All you needed was a combination of your extension techniques, Red and Blue. You were getting ready to leave, articulating your report in your head, when you heard a waning cry coming from the direction of the curse. 

“Mamaaaa!”

You had killed the thing, right? Or maybe it was another curse you hadn’t been able to sense. You turned, eyes searching every nook and corner of the building to see where you could’ve gone wrong. There was no energy that you could sense at all. Then you saw it, right in front of you. It was inching toward you in short increments as a small purple worm-like creature. It was a curse, no doubt about it, but it held no ominous energy. Your palm extended while your fingers readied to form a hand signal. You had every intention to exorcise it. However, once it reached up to the tip of your shoe it morphed itself into a ball. Eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, you bent down to pick it up. It held no malice, honestly, you could’ve left it. Instead, you pulled out one of the vials you carry to transport evidence and placed it inside ready to include it in your debrief. It was time to debrief and you decided to disclose the vile only if they sensed its energy. 

They didn’t.

You went straight to the training ground and released the cursed worm out of its vile. It morphed into the original body you had found it in but it remained still. Just like in the warehouse, you didn’t feel any dangerous aura coming from the worm. However, you can never be too sure and before you got close to it you made sure to activate your Limitless. You squatted down in front of it and poked its sides to see any reaction. Unfortunately, nothing happened. You purse your lips and decide to pick it, inspecting anything that could’ve been odd with it. Again, nothing.

“What the heck are you?” A rhetorical question because as you had figured out earlier it does not react to anything. 

It isn’t until you accidentally squeeze it in frustration that you feel something move in its stomach. It isn’t until you hear the sound of it gagging and you drop it and jump back. You had expected the worst; acidic vomit, combustion, etc. What you weren’t expecting was for it to throw up a sword, a cursed sword.

You attempted to pick it up again but it had morphed into a ball. 

“Interesting.”

You placed it back in the vial and decided that it could potentially be used for something in the future.

As you were making your way back to your house you felt a vibration in your pocket, snatching it out and groan at the sender.

Yuki:

Need the purse back.

You:

When and Why?

Yuki:

You responded!

Need it by tomorrow for a date.

Meet me at that convenience store we used to go to in an hour!

You:

I’ll bring the clothes back too.

Yuki:

Keep it as memorabilia of when you first got laid.

Your cheeks went red and in retaliation, you sent out a text before shoving your phone back in your pocket.

You:

I’m pissing in that damn purse.

—------------------

You told your chauffeur to drop you off at a restaurant a few blocks away from the convenience store and waited until you couldn’t see his car to make your way to the convenience store.

The convenience store was a 7/11 and you could see the blonde waiting outside with a lit cigarette in one hand and a plastic bag in the other, scanning the perimeter for you. 

You hand the purse off to her and try to reach into the plastic bag but can’t because she pushes it into her body.

She dangles the purse away from her with one hand on the handle and the other clasping the bridge of her nose.

Snatching the bag from her, you sift through the cigarette packs to find what you had been looking for, banana milk. Your eyes could’ve matched the same radiance of the sun with how bright they shined. 

“I didn’t piss in it, dumbass.” 

She exhales but still does a sniff test before she fully unzips the purse to find the box of condoms she had gifted you. Just as she had suspected, it was open.

“Ha, I knew it! You’re a whore!” By the way she reacted, you’d think you cheated on her. Onlookers consisted of young parents with their children that damned you to hell with their eyes.

You tried to stop her from airing out your business to the whole street but it was no use. Once Yuki goes on a tangent there is no going back. “How was it? It was with the guy you went on that date with, right? The tall muscular guy?”

You nearly spat out your drink and your eyes were close to bulging out of your skull, “You saw him?!”

“Duh, I had to see who I was giving you away to.” She explained, taking a drawl from her cigarette and leaning her head back on the wall of the 7/11 before pouting, “I only saw his back because you whisked him away into the restaurant too fast to catch a good look.”

You sighed taking a shot of your banana milk.

She watched as you chugged down the remnants of your milk before adding, “Doesn’t mean I didn’t see how you looked at him.”

“You mean with pure disgust and hatred.”

She laughed and shook her head staring directly at the cars that passed by, “Sure, we can go with that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” She put out her cigarette and reached for two, pointing one at you, “Cigarette?”

You huffed and narrowed your eyes. She shrugged as she put the other one back and lit the other for herself. She watched through her peripheral you nonverbally inquired about the statement she had said.

“You’re gonna deny it so what’s the point in telling you?”

You challenged, “Maybe I won’t. Not if it’s true.”

She falls victim to your incessance and files through her memories of that day. Based on what she could see from her hiding spot, she saw how he played with the ruffle of your dress. She saw what you meant by a flirt and expected you to retaliate the way you did. However, she needed to verify if her assumption was correct.

“What’s your relationship with him now? That date had to have changed things.”

Things certainly changed after that date. 

“We are still friends but with…” Your words lodged themselves in your throat and your hands pushed the banana milk bottle to and fro in your hands.

She understood immediately. Her interest in your mystery man began the moment she knew of your date. The girl who tried to avoid men like the plague was giving a man the time of day. He had to be special.

She crossed her hands over her waist letting one of them dangle out to tap out some of the ash from her cigarette bud, “That can be tricky, especially with how you look at him.”

Your hands stalled. 

“How do I look at him?”

“How I looked at my first boyfriend.” You were close to Yuki in high school and knew who she was referring to but drew a blank at the name. He was a year older than you but that seemed to draw Yuki in. They dated for a while, probably until Yuki’s 3rd year before they broke up. Though you don’t remember him much, seeing him in passing and exchanging pleasantries, you know that Yuki was happy with him.

She fears she may have scared you with such a daunting statement and reassures, “I’m not saying you’re in love with him or anything. That’s something you have to find out on your own. Might be tricky with your relationship but you don’t think of him as just a friend.”

But you did see him as a friend? 

She hums in amusement.

You had come to terms with having lustful thoughts of him. Anyone with good taste would want Toji. Romantically? That’s something you’ve pondered about from time to time but it would flee before you could fixate your time and energy into it. 

“Do you even have a date?”

She grinned deviously to herself, “Nope. Just wanted to see if you got laid.”

—----------------------

Regardless of what Yuki had said, you still went to see him. It’s become second nature to go see him you’re sure if you didn’t go he would question why.  

You loved being in denial. 

You weren’t going to tell him that your whole perception of your relationship had been warped. Therefore, you ended up tangled in his sheets with the stench of sex filling up the air.

You lay on his chest, hair melted onto your forehead and shoulders from the sweat, and all that could be heard was the sound of trying to even out your breath and his heartbeat. 

“We’re friends, right?” You asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“Then why are we doing this? Friends don’t do this.”

You still couldn’t bring yourself to say fuck and he would gladly do it for you.

“Doing what? Fucking?”

You were too tired to deal with him playing coy and thankfully he knew that too. 

He rubbed circles into your shoulder and exhaled, “Since when did you become the Messiah of sex and friendship?”

Yuki was always at the root of your inner turmoil. You would’ve never thought of your relationship with Toji being more without her unnecessary input. Keep telling yourself that. 

Were you guys still even friends?

“Do you want to stop?” He was secretly crossing your fingers that you would say no.

You shook your head and he relaxed his arms around you.

He smirked and laid his head on top of yours, “Then there is nothing to worry about.”

You stayed like that for a while before it was time to leave.

You had forgotten about the cursed worm and were in the middle of putting on your kimono when the vial fell out from one of the pockets. 

“What’s that?” He couldn’t see the curse but had honed his abilities well enough to know that a curse was there.

“It’s for you.” You picked up and continued, “It’s a cursed worm. I found it on my mission today. You can use it whenever you want to carry weapons. It morphs its shape so it’s adaptable.” You tossed the vial toward him as you went on about putting your clothes on.

He swiftly caught it and asked,  “Why didn’t you turn it in?” 

A glimpse of your conversation peeks into your mind and you shrug it off, “Need my gardener to be in top shape.”

"Talking about the garden. I'm going to be gone for a few weeks and I need you to look after the garden for me." You mentioned, deviating from the conversation. You heard him grunt which you understood was him agreeing.

You eventually leave and after he hears his front door close he plops himself down on his bed while he twirls the vial in between his fingers with the previous conversation lingering in his mind.

“Cute”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

hope you enjoyed this chapter! I took a bit of a hiatus to focus on college and I'm happy to say I just applied for my associates! I'm transferring to my dream university (hint: Chris Pine went there and Oppy taught there)  this fall and since I'm going to be a junior  I won't have as much time to update BUT I plan on writing consistently for the next month or so because surprisingly a lot of you like this story.

Also, any guesses on where the story is going? I'm always interested in seeing what you guys think!

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[simplydannie]

Hi Dannie! I’m a bit new to your page and just finished reading all of your work and few days ago. I had an idea for a fanfic request, what if Velvet and Veneer switched places. For example: the mistress likes Veneer more, Veneer has an attitude like Velvets, etc. Not 100% sure if you’ve already done something like this but just thought I’d suggest it! :)

Haii!

First of all, thank you so much for even bothering to read my stuff ❤️ that means a lot to me! Secondly, I have not done anything like this yet! I love this idea. It’ll be a challenge since I am so used to writing them the other way around. I hope it’s good enough! Here we go:

Velvet looked at herself in the mirror….she didn’t know who in the world she was looking at. It definitely wasn’t her. This “glamazon” her brother came up with was FAR from her. Makeup, glittering wardrobe! Velvet had always been about the simple life…

“It’s what the fans want. It’s what THEY want from us. So get used to it.” He had told her.

But this is not what she wanted. Sure she was desperate to leave the under-city… but at what cost, loosing herself? Today she wore a glittering golden, long sleeve, crop too, with white bell bottom pants and purple crystal heeled boots..

“For then fans.” She told herself. She heard commotion outside the door. In entered her brother, they marched, somewhat. He wore a glittering golden oversized hoodie with white skinny jeans and purple crystal boots that were styled somewhat like combat boots. They both sported the same purple crystal choker around their long necks.

“Ready for the performance.” He slid his hands through his swooped up green hair, smiling at himself in the mirror.

“Yeah. Sure.” Velvet responded with a small smile. He grabbed his sister by the shoulders and gave her a small shake.

“Pep up sis! We deserve this. We deserve happiness.” He told her. Velvet smiled at him through the mirror, his smiled matching hers. “Now! Time for some Troll!” Veneer opened a jeweled cabinet. He pulled out a diamond… inside that diamond was a little Troll they use to know as a friend… a little Troll they betrayed. Floyd lay with the diamond, hugging his tiny knees to his chest. Velvets heart sank at the sight.

“Are…are you sure? He’s not looking to good Ven.”

Veneer eyes the diamond, he could care less. He wiggled it, shaking the Troll to his knees. “See he’s fine. He’s trying to play the part.” Veneer sneered at the Troll.

“You made your point. Please, stop doing this.” Floyd begged.

“I think I haven’t made my point clear yet.” Veneer took the diamon perfume bottle and spritzed himself…. An aura of pink hues radiating from him as the essence took effect. “There! Much better.”

“Ven… we’re killing him.” Velvet added, a look of concern on her face.

“Nothing more than he deserves!�� Veneer yelled. “He was about to leave us Velvet! Abandon us. That whole “I’ll take care you guys” was nothing but a lie. Just so we wouldn’t give him to the market. He never cared for us, Vels!”

“That’s not true!” Floyd exclaimed.

“Shut it Troll!” Veneer tossed the diamond to his sister. “I’m done with your excuses. I’m the one taking care of us! Not you. Come on Velvet, we have a show to perform.” Veneer stayed staring at his sister, waiting for her to spray herself too.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered to Floyd. Velvet took a spritz, the same light radiating from her like it did her brother. Floyd fell at the foot of the diamond, a sense of guilt running through Velvet. She looked at her brother… there was no sympathy in his eyes, just pure hatred for what the Troll did. Velvet was upset too, but this wasn’t right.

“There! All good.” Veneer chimed as he fixed his collar, looking at himself in the mirror.

“What are going to do if something happens to him?” Velvet asked.

“There’s plenty more where that came from. Now come on! Are fans are waiting.” He walked out the studio.

“That’s not what I meant…” she glanced down at Floyd who resumed position, hugging his knees. Velvet sighed, she took a moment before placing the diamond down and walking out.

Floyd didnt move. He hugged himself, tears stinging his eyes. He tried to allow himself to drift to sleep but he couldn’t, to many thoughts surrounded his head…. Suddenly he felt a small draft. Floyd looked up to see the cap to the diamon had been left slightly opened. How? Did Velvet do this on purpose? Did she leave it open? Floyd took the chance and ran out of the diamond prison.

A fist slammed on the desk. The twins had just finished their concert. Veneer felt they did well, but their manager wasn’t happy, Mistress was furious.

“Did we not sound good?” Veneer asked

“Guess who my Bergens found running around the studio while you two were up on stage?” Mistress casted Velvet a malicious look. The girl gulped…

“Uuuhh, a mouse?” Veneer asked, but he saw the look Mistress was giving his sister, a tension grew in his body.

SLAM!!

Mistress slammed the diamond on the desk, Floyd was back in it. He looked at Velvet with sorrowful eyes…. She tried…

“The Troll. The Troll got out big deal. You have him back.” Veneer said.

“He couldn’t have gotten out by himself. No one but a Rageon can open diamonds so easily…” Mistress slowly walked over to Velvet, “Am I right?”

Velvet glanced between Mistress and her brother, another lump forming in her throat, “…..It seems like he needs to breathe a bit…”

SMACK!!

She didn’t get to finish her sentence, Mistress struck her clear across the face, leaving a small gash on her check.

“HEY!” Veneer stood up quickly. Mistress lifted her eyebrow to him.

“Yes? Do have a problem?” She crossed her arms staring down at the boy.

“S-she said it looked like he needed air. She didn’t mean too. You have him back already.” Veneer stated not standing down.

“… Typical. She’s making you soft.” Mistress circled back to her desk, “This little accident better not happen again. AM I CLEAR!”

Velvet shook her head slowly, eyes glowed to the ground. “She won’t mess up again.” Veneer gave her a scowl, “Let’s go.” He stood up and waited for his sister to follow.

“Wait!” Mistress called out. “You girl, can leave. Veneer, a word.”

He narrowed his eyes at Velvet. See what you got us into, they seemed to say. Velvet winced and gave a small shrug. She left the office and headed towards her room, but instead decided to wait for her brother at the end of the hallway… she had to speak with him… she had to talk some sense into him.

“She was nervous. Next time I’ll make sure she does better.” Veneer stated as he remained back in the Mistresses office.

“Good. But I don’t want to talk about your idiotic sister.”

“Oh?”

“I want to talk about you.”

Veneer was silent… He was listening.

“What do you feel that you accomplished so far?” She asked him.

“Accomplished? Seriously? Everything!” He chimed as he draped his legs of the arm rest of the chair. “Not to brag, but I have people eating out of the palm of my hand.” He smirked.

“That you do. And do you ever feel, held back?” Mistress asked.

He arched an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“Your sister, do you think she’s holding you back?”

Velvet screwed up a lot. She let her better nature take over sometimes, but never once though she held him back, “No. I don’t.”

“You’ve never thought about going solo? The people would love you, they already do.”

Solo? No, he’d never. It was always him and his sister, they were a pair, a duo….he could never. But, what happened if he ever did? The Mistress took his silence as an answer.

“Think about it. Think of what good it could do for you.” Mistress sat back on her chair and crossed her arms.

“….. I will.”

She waved him off. Velvet saw her brother come out of the office, “What did she want?”

“Nothing.” He lied.

“Vennie…”

“Not now, Vels!” He marched straight into his room. What did she say to him?

Mistress sat in her desk pondering about the events that happened.

“Gruff. Ruff!” She called out. The two Bergens enter the room, “Our girl here…” Mistress tapped the glass that contained the Troll . Floyd looked at her with a concern on his face. “She needs be kept an eye on. Do not leave her alone with the Troll, do not allow her ANY excuse. She’s beginning to be a problem…. She’s been making our boy to soft. Once the opportune moment comes…. I’m going to stage a little accident for her….” She picked up the diamond and stared at the Troll. “Say good bye to your little girl.”