#anyway. i’m not even good at making biscuits and i can still make good biscuits with whatever fucking flour is on hand

[lightspren]

ignore the person being wrong on the internet

ignore the person being wrong on the internet

it’s literally not important at all to correct them and it doesn’t matter

you must ignore the person being wrong on the internet

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {8}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Your due date approaches but that’s not the only thing that’s been a long time coming Warnings: 18+ only, fluff WC: 2.7k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine

Round 4 - Japanese GP

“I think I’m in love,” you moaned happily.

“I should hope so,” Lando commented dryly, making Charles laugh.

“She’s not talking about us, mon cher.”

You patted the vending machine full of the greatest snacks you had ever tasted. “Ignore them, it’s just you and me, now take my money.”

“Are we going to karaoke?” Pierre asked, checking his phone to see the time. “Yuki and Daniel are already there.”

“Shh, let the pregnant woman eat,” his girlfriend reprimanded. “She’s growing a whole human in there.”

“Thank you, Kika.” You sent her a grateful smile before throwing your middle finger in Pierre’s direction. The machine whirred and you turned back to see mechanical arms moving your choice down to the little door. “I just need a few more.”

“She’s stalling because she knows she sucks at singing when she’s sober,” Max joked before pulling out his wallet and going to the next machine. “What else do you want?”

Everyone caught onto Max’s idea and lined up along the alley of vending machines and within minutes there were enough snacks to last you the night, plus one huge Pokémon stuffed animal that Pierre chose for the baby. You could barely wrap your arms around the teddy and you narrowed your eyes at your old teammate. “Out of all of the Pokémon you chose…Squirtle?”

His grin widened until his laughter broke through. “What’s wrong with Squirtle? Everyone loves a big squirtle.”

“You’re so immature,” you tried to say with a straight face but it failed as you giggled. “This is going in my bed when I get home. It’s going to be my snuggler when I’m abandoned.”

“We aren’t abandoning you, mon amour. Everyone agreed it’s too close to your due date to come to China.”

You didn’t like it, but it was the truth. You were lucky to even get away with coming to Japan since you were already 37 weeks pregnant. At least there was a two week gap between the races so you would have some time with Lando and Charles before they left for the next race.

“And your mother will be there, so you definitely aren’t abandoned,” Lando pointed out. He took the teddy from you so you could better see where you were walking and tucked it under one arm so he could still hold your hand. “Max has already given us his plane so we can get back if we need to.”

“I have?” Max cocked a brow.

“You may have been drunk when you said it, but there were witnesses.”

Max scratched his head in confusion but he couldn’t recall the memory. Shrugging, he wasn’t really bothered, he would have offered for them use it anyway. “Who’s your reserve if you have to go?”

“Ollie and Pato,” Charles answered. “My baby is in good hands if we miss the race. Lando is a little more worried.”

“Not of Pato, I’ve seen him in testing,” Lando countered. “I just don’t like sharing.” Everyone looked pointedly between you and your boyfriends. “Har-har, I meant my seat, assholes.”

You eventually made it to the karaoke bar and Yuki growled at everyone for being late, except you. You got a tight hug and a strong whiff of alcohol on his breath.

“I didn’t know what you felt like, so I got a bit of everything,” he said as he pointed to the side table full of snacks and non alcoholic drinks. Pierre reached out for a pack of biscuits but Yuki slapped his hand away. “Not for you motherfuckers. Get your own.”

The annual karaoke had grown over the years and you weren’t sure if it was better when you were sober or not. On one hand you nearly wet yourself laughing at how terrible everyone sounded but on the other your ears were almost bleeding by the time they were too drunk to continue. Crashing out onto the hotel bed never felt so good when you finally got back after midnight. Thankfully it was only going to be media day for the guys so they could sleep off their hangovers.

You combed your fingers through Lando’s hair as he spawned out next to you, soft snores falling from his open mouth. A smile played at your lips and Charles chuckled beside you. “Go on,” he said as he nudged you gently. “Say it.”

You couldn’t resist and he knew it. “It’s all too much for Little Lando Norris.”

“Not little,” Lando grumbled.

“You were asleep a second ago.”

“Wasn’t asleep, just resting my eyes.”

“Such a dad thing to say,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek as his breathing evened out and he was asleep once more. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

“You should try to rest too,” Charles murmured as he settled into his pillow and opened his arms for you, his bleary eyes struggling to stay open.

“I will.” You would try to at least, but finding a comfortable position grew harder each day. “I love you.”

“Je t’aime aussi. De beaux rêves.”

He was asleep before you could even reply and you soon followed.

The need to go to the toilet once again woke you and you found Charles' space in the bed empty. After relieving yourself, you followed the light in the living room to see the curtains swaying softly in the breeze.

Charles stood on the balcony overlooking the city, his fingers idly running his matching trinity necklace along its chain. It was only as you got closer you saw his eyes weren’t on the city below but the dark skies above and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head between his shoulder blades.

“What’s on your mind, handsome?”

He turned and leaned back against the rail, his hands coming to rest on the impossibly large swell of your stomach. You placed your hands over Charles’ and guided them to where the action was happening against your ribs, a nice reprieve from being kicked in the bladder. You couldn’t get much bigger before you popped and the stretch marks already showed the strain the pregnancy was having on your body.

“I wish Jules was here to see this.”

You hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting the driver but from what Charles had said it would have been hard not to love the charismatic person he described. “I’m sure he would be proud of you. I am. Have you thought any more about her name?”

Charles chewed his lip before sighing. “No, I want something new. I don’t want her to be pressured by the weight of the name she carries.”

You could completely understand how a name changed everything and nodded. “Okay, I’ll cross Julia off the list.”

“And Landa.”

You wrinkled your nose in distaste. “That was never on my list. I don’t know why you didn’t shut that idea down right away.”

Charles chuckled and kissed your nose. “Because it’s funny, mon amour. He actually thought it had a real chance.”

“Our hopeless dreamer,” you sighed, resting your head on his chest as you yawned.

There wasn’t much time left to narrow down the list of first names but a compromise had been found with the last name. To make it fair, they decided if it was clear Lando was the biological father then Charles' last name would go first and vice-versa. If it wasn’t clear then you were going to have to referee their debate, something you were hoping to avoid.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Charles murmured as he kissed your hand and laced it with his. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

It was no secret you always woke up when one or both of them went missing from your bed. Even asleep you seemed to know when their body warmth disappeared.

“It’s okay. I’ll have to get used to it.”

“When we abandon you?” he teased, but there was an edge of sadness in his tone.

“Maybe that was a little harsh but I was hungry. I’m sorry.” You climbed onto the bed and snuggled in between their warm bodies. “I know you aren’t abandoning me, Cha.”

“Good, now I need to have an important conversation.” He shuffled down so he could kiss your stomach and whispered, “Ma petite, you need to stay inside there until daddy and papa get home. I know it’s a little tight in there and we are very excited to meet you too but you have to hang on just a few more weeks, ma fille. Deal?”

“I'm not sure you are going to get an ans-” A kick interrupted you and Charles smirked.

“My girl already listens to her papa.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you warned as he rejoined you on the pillows. “I hear teenage girls are terrible at listening to their parents. Not me of course, I was an angel.”

It was Charles’ turn to laugh as he curled his arm around your waist and closed his eyes. “An angel…I don’t think that was the word your mother used.”

Your yawn cracked your jaw before you said, “It’s a good thing I have matured since then.”

“Like fine wine, mon ange.” His nose brushed your cheek before he planted a sleepy kiss on your temple. “Bonne nuit.”

Exhaustion turned your tongue heavy as your body relaxed against his. “Goodnight, baby.”

Round 5 - Chinese GP

You wanted to smash your phone when the alarm went off in the middle of the night. The time on the screen said 7.30am but it was a lie. You had only been asleep for a few minutes from what the aches in your body indicated, not hours.

“The drivers parade is starting,” your mother called out from the lounge.

With a groan you pushed away the giant Squirtle you used as a body pillow and rolled to the edge of the bed before swinging your legs off. Just the small movement left you breathless as your lung capacity dropped and you hated the think what your VO2 levels would be like at this point.

“Can you hit record please?” you yelled back before going to the bathroom. There was no way you were going to miss a moment of the days activities, even if it meant watching the pre-race grid walk after the race finished.

You made it to the couch in time to see Charles and Lando climb onto the trailer together and couldn’t help noticing the dark bags under their eyes. They matched yours. It was the first time being away from each other for so long that you were all finding it difficult to adjust and sleep. Video calls couldn’t replace touching them.

They would keep their phones with them until the very last moment when they climbed in the car so you grabbed yours and sent a quick message after reading the sweet good morning messages that came through while you were sleeping.

To Group Chat: Drive fast and keep it clean. I love you.

It took almost half a minute with the delay of live tv for them to pull their phones out before turning and waving to the camera with big smiles, Charles even blew a kiss.

The boys had promised an interesting race during their media interviews on Thursday. Everyone knew it was the first race without you there and they were going to make up for it by pushing their hardest for a win. As it turned out, Checo tried to go three wide into turn one with Max and George, causing a red flag and the retirement of all three cars.

You could practically see the fumes coming off your brother and you didn’t need to be a lip reader to know what he was saying when the camera panned to him in the garage. Maybe Checo would be the next to learn just how fast Red Bull can take away the seat they gave. He wouldn’t be the first and he definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“Eat your breakfast, it’s gone cold.”

The dish your mother made would still sit on the coffee table for another 37 laps but you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen. Charles was leading with Lewis in second place but you knew the Mercedes’ tyre degradation meant Lando would soon be able to overtake, and you weren’t even there to scream for them.

“I will soon,” you lied as you edged closer to the tv and saw the two cars enter the straight. “Get him baby…”

Lando’s rear wing opened, adding to the slipstream he was already getting from Lewis, and he pulled out to shoot past, diving onto his breaks in the corner and taking second place.

“Yes!!!” you screamed as you jumped to your feet.

“Don’t jump around too much, you might break your waters,” your mother warned as she pulled you back down into the couch cushions.

“But did you see that? That was perfect!”

Your mother smiled at your enthusiasm. “He did very well, but you need to calm down.”

Your nail beds were ruined by the time it came to pitting and they both went in on the same lap but Ferrari made a mistake and took a few key seconds to recover. It was just long enough for Lando to be released and get in front of Charles.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, nervously bouncing your knee as Lando defended against Charles. “I can’t watch. Mum, my heart can’t handle this…” She held your hand and you gripped it tight for the remaining laps.

“Go! Go! Go!” you screamed at the tv, leaping to your feet again as Lando finally crossed the finish line less than two seconds ahead of Charles. “YESSSS!!!”

You couldn’t keep still as you rubbed your belly and laughed exuberantly. “Daddy just won his first race! Holy shit, he did it!” You were giddier than the first time you won but he had waited so long for it after being robbed of the win in Sochi. “I can’t believe I’m not fucking there!”

“Language,” your mother reminded with a laugh. You turned to see she was recording your reaction and sent the video to the group chat with Lando and Charles.

“Oh please, she’s not even born, and that’s the least of her worries.”

Lando’s shouts over the team radio made you smile harder and he was still laughing and possibly crying by the time he pulled into the pit lane. “Yeah, baby, about fucking time! Woohoo!! Who’s your daddy?”

“Well done, mate, you deserve this.”

“Thanks, Jarv, are you crying?”

“I just got something in my eye.”

“Yeah me too.”

His car parked in the centre position but he couldn’t get out as sat in disbelief, his helmet dipped with his head. Charles was the first out and half hung into Lando’s cockpit as he embraced the winner. You couldn’t hear their exchange but you could imagine Charles telling him how proud he was before helping him climb out of his seat.

Lando jumped from the halo and into Charles’ arms before Carlos rushed in too after taking third place. You couldn’t help thinking it should have been you with them.

“What a way to take your first win,” Jenson said with a grin as he started the post race interview. “I guess there will be plenty to celebrate tonight. Any plans?”

“Mhmm,” Lando hummed as Charles joined him after his weigh-in. “Big plans. Important plans. We are heading straight to the airport and going home to celebrate with our wife.”

“Wife?” you asked aloud.

“Wife?” Jenson echoed.

“Uh, figure of speech, you know?” Lando chuckled, his neck turning pink at his mistake but he was so high on elation it had slipped out. “We have a baby on the way and our lives are built together. It doesn’t get more committed than that kind of thing.”

“So there haven’t been any secret nuptials we don’t know about?”

“No, not that we wouldn’t if we could but there’s kind of laws or something against it, or so my lawyers say.”

“Trust me, they’ve checked,” Charles added, but it was the first you had heard of it.

You were still thinking about that when they disappeared to the cool down room and when you watched them stand proudly on the podium, the British national anthem playing loudly. You were still thinking about it when they left the stage and the Sky presentation came to an end.

Click here for the next part.

[holmesianlove]

Chapter 24 -  Pudding

The next morning, John was in a good mood, working in the kitchen. The evening with Sherlock had been quite lovely in the end, just the two of them, alone together. He realised he hadn’t finished speaking to Sherlock about the case, though. Sherlock had been to see his brother, hence he'd needed the ice cream too, but didn’t say why. So when Sherlock strolled in to find the mess surrounding John, his face a little horrified, John already jumped in to distract him.

“Was he mad?” John asked.

“Who?” Sherlock looked confused. 

He was already dressed. Looking nice for this time of morning. Perhaps he was about to go out for the day. Should John have checked if they had a case first? Had John forgotten something they were doing entirely?

“Mycroft. Was he mad that the case wasn't as exciting as he had hoped? You didn’t say.” 

“Oh. He'll get over it,” Sherlock said with a flippant hand gesture.

“Did you still get paid, though?” John turned to ask.

“Yes, we got paid,” Sherlock corrected.

“Good,” John said, nodding as he worked. 

“What are you doing in here, then? It smells amazing,” Sherlock sighed, walking in and looking around. Every surface was a mess, all covered in bowls and flour, and spices.

“I thought I'd cook a Christmas pudding. I found my Nan’s recipe.”

“Really? You've never done that before,” Sherlock said, surprised.

“I was feeling inspired by all the sweet goodness on our trip,” he said with a laugh. “Well, actually, I also promised Molly I would bring… something to the party.” He grimaced. Sherlock was not thrilled about having to go in the first place.

Sherlock flashed him an annoyed look.

“I know. I know. And you wanted to get out of going. I know.”

Sherlock went straight to the kettle to make tea. 

“Anyway, I agreed to bake some cookies - simple enough. And then, when I was looking through my recipes I found the pudding recipe and I thought I’d make that just for us... to have, before you go away for Christmas.” John looked around him at the mess and suddenly felt overwhelmed. 

“Can I help?” Sherlock asked, noticing John's distress.

“You ah… you want to help?” John asked, looking surprised and nervous at the offer.

“Yes, John. I want to help. Put me to good use. Just let me have a tea first.”

“You’re not doing anything today?” he checked.

“Nope. Free as a bird,” he said with a smile. He grabbed his tea and moved over to a chair placing his cup on the one corner of the table that was clear of cooking paraphernalia.

“Ok. Sure. Here, put an apron on or that posh shirt of yours will get ruined.” John handed him an apron from the cupboard and then set about trying to organise the chaos a bit, now that he had someone else involved in it. Once Sherlock had finished his tea, John passed him a bowl with dough in it and a rolling pin.

Sherlock still managed to make wearing an apron look sexy. It irritated John - making it hard for him to focus. He set Sherlock to rolling out dough and pressing the biscuit cutter into it, making different Christmas shapes and placing them on the tray for baking. For a while they worked in silence, just concentrating on what they were doing. John mixed his soaked fruit into the bowl of dry ingredients and got the pudding mixture sorted.

“This is nice. I feel like we usually don't share in the cooking together,” he said finally.

“I’ve made you cook too often,” Sherlock rushed to reply.

“It's alright. I don't mind doing it so long as you don't mind my terrible cooking,” John laughed. 

“Your cooking isn’t terrible.”

“Well, I’m not a terrible cook. I don't know, I just assume you are more accustomed to nicer food.” John blushed at the admission. His basic cooking kept them alive, he supposed. It was sustenance, but it wasn’t fine dining.

“John, we get takeaway when I’m in charge, or when you’re tired. When you make time to cook, it means something. To me, at least.”

“Well, I appreciate that. And that you don’t, you know, make fun of my cooking. I'm sure you can cook too.”

“Yes, I can, and I have done so on occasion, but when my brain's busy and my body's tired, I struggle to sum up the energy. My brain often doesn't have room left to think about what I want to cook, or what I could cook, or what I should cook… or if we have the ingredients… or when I'll have time to go to the shops to get the ingredients. You just have this ability to look at what's in the fridge and make something up. I can't do that.”

“You're a chemist!” John exclaimed. “I would have thought potions would be your specialty.”

“No, funnily enough. At least, I don't do that with food, so much as actual chemicals. Not advisable for the kitchen.” 

“Yeah, all right, genius,” John teased. "Hasn't stopped you running experiments in here, has it."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. His experiments on the kitchen table were always a source of heated conversation. “But honestly, John, that's a skill. I can follow a recipe and I've cooked some very fancy, very impressive things when I was younger, but I'm following someone else's recipe with ingredients they've told me to buy. You can just improvise and I am constantly in awe of that.”

“Okay, that makes me feel a little bit better. Keep going with the compliments.” He flashed Sherlock a grin and his eyes sparkled with joy.

“I really like that one you do with the… with the minced meat?”

John laughed. “Mystery mince?” 

“Is that what you call it?” Sherlock chuckled.

“Yes, but it's just a bunch of stuff from the cupboard. It's just a mix of herbs and leftover veg and mince on toast it's not rocket science.”

“Well, I like it.” Sherlock lifted his chin defiantly.

“Good to know.” John chuckled to himself. “It feels good to know that I can still impress a genius.”

“You are a physician, John, you're not an idiot.”

“No, I know. You're just… very intimidating.”

“Me?” Sherlock looked shocked.

“Yes. You’re very—“

Sherlock’s brow creased as he watched John. Was that really what he thought? Was that why he was so nervous all the time? 

“You're very scathing sometimes... very unforgiving of people who you think are stupid. And I am prone to a lot of stupid things. So…” He looked down at his bowl, suddenly embarrassed he’d said anything.

“Oh, John, you're not even close to the idiots we see the rest of the time. You are an army surgeon. Are you seriously suggesting that I would think that you are stupid?” Sherlock asked.

John thought about it, and while they occasionally called each other idiot, he knew it was more in an affectionate way, somehow. A term of endearment. He’d used it on Sherlock too, and Sherlock Holmes was no idiot. He never meant it like that. “Well, I suppose when you say it like that, it sounds silly.”

“Perfectly ridiculous,” Sherlock said. He went back to working the dough. “John, maybe I’ve never said it to you directly. But you are one of the smartest people I know. I happen to have one of the fastest, most complex minds in the world. The skills I have are not are not particularly usual for the average human. So sometimes it seems like I expect everyone to be like me, but I know that I'm peculiar. You might have a more normal brain in comparison, but you are highly intelligent, highly accomplished. You have skills I've never even dreamed of having… to open up a human? To cut them open and understand what you're looking at? And fix them? At that level? Fascinating,” he sighed. “I find you fascinating.” 

John was lost for words. Sherlock had certainly never said that before. “I just always thought you lumped me in with the rest of the idiots.” He blushed.

“John, I wouldn't let you live here with me if I thought you were stupid. Quite honestly. You should know better than that.” He tilted his head and gave John a look of disbelief.

“Well, thank you, that's all the Christmas present I need.” He smiled at Sherlock and his friend looked back at him.

John was always fascinated with how Sherlock’s eyes changed colour, like a mood ring. Depending on his mood, or what he wore, his eyes shifted. And right now they were the most beautiful blue, while they were looking at John. Stunning. He didn’t mean to but he licked his lips nervously, lost for words. “Looks like you’re… ah… out of dough. Why don’t you pop those trays in the oven. Set the timer for eight minutes,” he said, returning his focus to the task.

He set about getting the pudding on to boil and then began making the icing for the biscuits, as Sherlock churned out more biscuits like a professional. Those violin-skilled fingers manipulated the dough and the biscuit cutters in a beautiful choreography that John kept finding himself watching. He was always rough and clumsy when he made them.

When the timer went off, Sherlock jumped up excitedly, and grabbed the tea towels to pull out the first tray of biscuits, eager to see how his handy work had gone. When he turned there was no bench space.

“John… if you could just…”

John’s thoughts were a million miles away. Sherlock, meanwhile, had grabbed both trays - one in each hand. So his hands were full, and the heat from the trays was burning through to his fingers now. 

“John!” Sherlock said more forcefully.

John spun around in a hurry, lifting the spoon out of the bowl, which managed to flick green icing across onto Sherlock’s cheek. He snorted and then realised the situation. “Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry. Here, let me help.” John moved to the bench and frantically shifted his recipe pages and a used bowl and put down some cork board to take the heat of the trays. “Sorry,” he said again.

Sherlock dropped both trays down, and let the tea towels drop to the floor as he shook his hands out. The heat had worked through to his fingers but not enough to burn them.

“Are you alright?” John asked.

“Yes, sorry, I should have thought about the bench space…”

“No. My fault,” John said then smiled. “Come here.”

Sherlock’s brow furrowed.

“I got… icing…” John moved to Sherlock and reached up his thumb, to wipe the icing away.

Sherlock froze at the action and watched John intently. John’s only focus seemed to be on the icing splatter, but he moved his thumb slowly, deliberately across Sherlock’s cheek, pressing ever so slightly to wipe it off. John’s eyes were suddenly captivated by the little freckles on the rise of Sherlock’s cheek, just above the icing, and the trail of colour it still left on his skin. Without meaning anything by it, without thinking, he moved his thumb to his own lips and sucked the icing away. Sherlock’s pupils dilated at the suggestive gesture, which John had apparently done unconsciously.

“Green,” John said quietly, with a smile, as he moved away, back to his stirring.

“Hmmm?” Sherlock hummed in question, words escaping him in the moment.

“You have green on your face. Finally I have my revenge,” John said with a cheeky smile.

“Oh.” Sherlock’s lips formed a circle as his brain caught up. “Oh right, yes. Ha!” He tried to settle his brain and bring himself back to his task. John hadn’t meant anything by it all. Just friendly teasing. He bent down and grabbed the towels from the floor and set about moving the biscuits silently to some cooling racks so he could place more biscuits on the trays, then get the next batch in the oven.

He turned and without thinking, he used the tea towel to flick at John’s leg. Revenge indeed.

John spun around, icing covered spoon in hand, in shock. “Oh it's like that is it?” he teased, his brow shooting up, recognising the threat of a food war.

“It could be like that,” Sherlock said, raising his brow as well, pausing to see what John would do.

They both started giggling at themselves, and Sherlock adjusted his grip on the tea towel, as if he was ready for battle. John walked closer to stand right in front of Sherlock, spoon poised, spine tall ready for the challenge. But something in Sherlock’s eyes changed when he got that close and all of a sudden the tension between them shifted. John’s smile dropped and he couldn’t take his eyes off Sherlock’s. They were trying to say something without words and John so wanted to hear what it was. He wanted to believe that the things racing around his own head might be reciprocated in his flatmate. In his friend. His best friend. His eyes searched Sherlock’s face for answers, but he wasn’t giving anything away. Sherlock’s eyes had shifted to that shade of blue again, and he was watching John just as closely, but the message wasn’t transmitting loud enough. John couldn’t read it.

Sherlock bent ever so slightly forward and John sucked in a quiet breath, suddenly feeling like Sherlock might actually kiss him. Maybe he was feeling the same, maybe this was the moment that would change everything. He didn’t move, he didn’t dare. What if he bridged the distance and Sherlock had not intended to do that. He would never survive the humiliation. He froze to the spot.

"John, there's something I..."

And then the timer startled them both. Sherlock pulled back and the tension shifted. Sherlock pushed past John and opened the oven to remove the next batch of biscuits and the whole moment was gone.

John stood staring into the void in front of him where Sherlock had been, trying to reconcile what he thought might have been happening, what had Sherlock wanted to say, and what did it all mean?

Posting early as today will be busy for me. Merry Christmas Eve to you all! Thanks for the support and comments and for following along. Hang in there! The next few will lead you to your resolution!!

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[skele-bunny]

hello !! i tried to send a request on my fic blog but it wouldn’t let me LOL

ANYWAYS, i read ur Phantom angst w his past and starting from square 1 again and it was so heart breaking, as someone who’s had setbacks like that - i just love how you wrote everyone in that fic so much

i was wondering, and you can totally ignore this if it’s stupid, if you could write about Phantom finally coming out of that and getting better ? i’m a sucker for hurt comfort and wanna see Phantom happy and comfortable with his pack again :)

have a wonderful day/night !! 🦇

Fore sure!

You Came Back To Us. (CW) Phantom/Everyone

CW - Implications of past abuse, sa (but this is a fluff fic!)

Characters: Aether, Dewdrop, Phantom

Divider by @ wrathofrats

The quiet sound of talking bustled in the kitchen and dining room, the pack in their daily routine of getting things started. Mountain stayed at the helm directing Rain and Cirrus for what he needed to cook, Swiss helping to plate each item that was finished, Aether double checking each eating restriction and preference was correct, Dew starting the fixing of the table while just as equally quiet making sure the others made their beds and got the common room cleaned.

It was important to them that they kept their routine, not only setting the pace for that day but feeding ten ghouls was insanity and could quickly become exhausting if not separated equally. Usually, there'd be music playing and humming—but not as of recent. Their little bat who they purposely excluded from working in the mornings to sleep in was still too startled at loud noises.

It had been exactly two months since the 'reign of terror' Aurora called it, Phantom coming face-to-face with his tormentor for the last time. While it had a happy ending, the epilogue didn't. Countless nightmares, regression back to an old headspace, and just an empty look that showed of not only suffering but exhaustion. Phantom had given up completely, relying on his pack to take care of them since they no longer had the desire for anything—even living.

Of course they'd take care of him, they were their mate, their little bug they adored more than anything in this world. When Phantom first became Topside, it was always rocky for a good while, unsure how to approach this scared ghoul that cried and backed away if you dared to get near. Dew knew he didn't make it any better, but they had moved past that. It took so long for their bat to come around, showing their smile and personality, even making friendships with eventual relationships. The pack had worked so hard to influence it, once again with taking care of him.

Just because Phantom lost his progress, didn't mean they'd stop trying again. It was just a set back that with time and patience would be alright again. They'd all been there in some form of way with their own issues and addictions. So, it was important to continue on, show Phantom some normality of routine like before the reign; so that's what they did.

Sunshine had finished first, helping Aether grab each plate and set them down at respective seats. Her smile was contagious, joking under whispers which always got Aether to grab his chest as he laughed, fangs curling past his lips with joy. Aether grabbed a plate that held the design of 'Scream' and a small tumbler with 'Dracula', rolling his eyes at another terrible joke Sunshine made before he walked to a specific door. He used his foot to knock before adjusting the items and letting himself in.

Curled in the corner of his bed, Phantom stayed under the covers but his eyes open to follow Aether's movements. "Good morning cutie!" He had whispered to his successor.

Phantom stayed silent, chewing on his finger but eyes never once leaving Aether as he sat down the items and picked up the barely touched remains of dinner from last night and placed them in a container to the side.

"For your wonderfulness, you have a chicken biscuit with a jelly doughnut. Honestly, bug, I'm jealous of what you got!" Aether teased, sending a wink to the smaller quintessence. "Gonna have to tell our tree out there to make me one too."

The elder showed his palms before getting closer to Phantom, lightly running his magick through his frame, closing his eyes as he searched and felt around. "Your fever dropped, that's good... You hurting anywhere?"

He could feel Phantom rustle, shaking his head no in response. "Good, good."

As he went to move away, Phantom's hand quickly darted out to grab Aether's wrist, the two holding eye contact. "Yes, bug? What's the matter?"

It was silence, Phantom slowly closing his eyes again but his grip on Aether never faltered which made the older quint move to his knees on the floor, letting Phantom do whatever he needed to. He sent a smell of comforting pheromones and his purrs began, equally making Phantom purr in response. It was another minute before Aether felt his ear twitch, their mental link slowly connecting.

"I want a bath..."

"Okay, we can do a bath. Do you want me to get Swiss or Rory?" Aether simply hummed, not denying the smile that came over his face.

Phantom shook again subconsciously. "No, you."

So, with gentle hands, Aether peeled back the multitude of blankets that swallowed Phantom whole and gently went under his knees and back to lift them. Their head butted against his chest, claws slowly kneading on his shirt. They moved to the bathroom where he was carefully stripped, watching the tub get filled with bubbles. Their baby bat held deeper eye bags and his frame much smaller than they'd like, but he was alive. He leaned forwards against Aether who at first took his affection as a response to trauma, trying to move but that idea was replaced as Phantom kept purring and his hands went back to kneading.

Aether was positive Phantom fell asleep in the tub at least twice, once when his nails carefully raked through the different colored strands on Phantom's head, a second once his wash rag started moving in gentle circles. Aether kept whispering where he was moving even if Phantom was lost in their slumber to even hear it, the retired ghoul adjusting to get his lower half and underside so Phantom didn't have to move. He felt terrible waking the poor thing up to get dried off and in a new pair of clothes, heading back to his bed.

"There we go! One clean bat with yummy food waiting for his tummy, how about that!" Aether cooed, carefully laying him back down. A kiss was placed to Phantom's forehead, his purrs never stopping. "Do what you can today, alright? I may have also sneaked you chocolate milk instead of water this morning."

"Thank you."

Body language couldn't lie as the moment Phantom spoke, Aether's tail wagged like no other. He simply smiled with one more kiss before heading out, inhaling sharply and rubbing his misty eyes. The others were waiting patiently for Aether, looking at him with heightened curiosity.

"Sorry, tommy wanted a bath and... He spoke to me." Aether smiled wide again, watching his packs faces light up in return.

The sound of purrs and little chirps began to fill the room, Aether catching the sight of a few of their tails wagging just as much as his. He sat down next to Dewdrop, with once last glance towards the door, before bowing his head as it was Swiss' turn to lead them in prayer. With the pack joining together for a 'nema', only a single fork was picked up before the sound of a door opened.

Heads instantly turned with bodies, smiles returning as Phantom stood in his doorway with his plate and tumbler in hold. He eyed Aether who got the hint and walked over, crouching down to the bat's height and listening to their link. There was a moment of silence before Aether nodded and lifted Phantom with a carefulness as he held his items tightly. The pack assumed them to be returning back to the room, Phantom getting too overwhelmed—but to their surprise, Aether walked towards them. There was a quick rearrangement of Phantom's chair going between his and the pack leader's, Dew taking his items and welcoming him down.

"Hi there, itty bitty." Dew teased, offering his hand which Phantom took. "I'm happy to see your face."

Phantom's ear twitched before his own tiny smile joined, laying his head on Dew's chest. Dew opted out of breakfast to continue being a pillow for his mate, their tails interlinked but slowly helping Phantom sip his drink and even nibble the top part of his biscuit.

Dewdrop cocked his head as he noticed the straw being darker than normal. "Is this water?"

He eyed Aether who simply looked away. "Oh you're terrible!" He teased.

A giggle.

A giggle sounded and Dew looked down at Phantom, his cheeks a light purple and eyes scrunched as he smiled.

"Is that funny to you?" Dew questioned light-heartedly, scoffing as Phantom nodded with another laugh. "Oh you naughty bat, I can't believe you and Aether would conspire against me."

Swiss perked up, pointing his bacon at Dew while covering his mouth as he talked with food in. "Ohh, let the kid be! If I had to drink bathwater every day, I'd go crazy too!"

"Swiss, I'm positive if one of us offered our bathwater we just bathed in for you, you'd drink it like a dying man." Mountain snapped back, causing eruptions of laughter at the table, even Dew couldn't help himself.

"You guys are terrible to me!"

The fire ghoul warmed himself just a bit as he felt Phantom adjust closer, completely laying his body weight against Dew—closing his eyes and starting to knead once more. After the fact, they knew they'd retire Phantom back to his bed from using the bare energy they had, but for now, they enjoyed their tired company as Dew gently rubbed his back.

There was an unspoken agreement to continue talking at a lower tone, letting Phantom peacefully sleep for once but trying to continue their routine. Their bug twitched some before sighing in his sleep, hands gripping Dew's shirt so tightly while they let out a small trill. Dew moved his hand from Phantom's back to the dip behind his ear, slowly rubbing and watching as Phantom's shoulders released again and his purrs kicked up again.

It had been so long since the table was full and the last time anyone heard his mewl-purrs. Oh, how they all missed it so much. Dewdrop couldn't help himself as he gave Phantom's body a light squeeze, his own eyes becoming misty as he held his bat in his arms again like he had prayed and craved for.

Their collective wish had been granted.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Can we see Alfred and shop girl bonding in the Other Half?💕

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Warnings: Mostly fluffy, with a peppering of angst; Shop Girl has nightmares; this is an Alfred-centric chapter for obvious reasons

“I known Frank twenty years. I do that to him, can you imagine what I’ll do to you?”

The words are drowned by a gunshot, and a cruel laugh—

You’re sitting up and scrambling to turn the lamp on before you can stop yourself. You heave in tight, panicked breaths as your memory still crowds behind your eyes and rings through your ears. You look around the bedroom, and for once, you’re relieved to find Bruce’s side of the bed empty. Ever since you’ve returned to Gotham, he’s been hesitant around you. His worry hasn’t disappeared, but he’s been far more careful about voicing that concern. 

You draw a deep breath in through your nose, forcing yourself to hold it for ten seconds before slowly blowing the air out again. You can feel the panicked pounding of your heart as you begin to adjust to your reality, away from your nightmare. 

You look around the dim room, stomach churning in discomfort at the thought of laying back down and trying to fall back asleep with the memories of the kidnapping so close to the surface. You push the sheets aside, tucking your feet into your slippers and taking your bathrobe up from where you’d hung it over the footboard. You pull it open, yawning widely as you head for the door. 

It’s a short trip to the kitchen, but you’re surprised to find the lights on, and Alfred puttering around. 

“Alfred?” You speak up, voice thick from disuse. You smile a little as he turns to look at you. “Is everything okay?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

You hum softly, walking over to the stove. “I wanted some tea,” You fib. “Would you like some?” 

“I’d be happy to make it.” 

“I don’t mind. You do these things for us all the time. What are you doing up, anyway?” 

“I had trouble getting to sleep, myself.” 

“Really?” You frown, turning to look at him once you’ve put the fire on under the kettle. “Are you alright?” 

“Quite alright,” He reassures with a gentle smile. “I was trying to parse whether or not Master Wayne may want to do anything for Christmas.” 

“Mm,” You nod. “A good question, consider the catastrophe that was Thanksgiving.” 

You walk over to the shelf that Alfred keeps the tea chest. 

“Would you like a biscuit with your tea?” 

“Oh, yes please,” You smile. 

“Has he said anything to you about Christmas?” 

“Not a word. But communication’s been a little…Odd since I got back.” 

“‘Odd’ how?” 

“Mm, well,” You shrug, opening the lid of the tea chest. “I don’t know, I feel like we’ve been tip-toeing around one another.” 

“That is to be expected, even if it’s uncomfortable.” 

“As long as it doesn’t become our normal.” 

“I’m certain you’ll find a way to work through it.” 

You smile as Alfred joins you at the counter with two clean mugs. 

“Thank you. Chamomile?” 

“How you know me,” Alfred chuckles. 

“Two tea bags?” 

“Yes, please.” 

You set the tea bags down in one mug before taking up a packet of sleepy time for yourself. 

“...Alfred?” 

“Yes?” 

“Can I ask…” You trail off, weighing your words as you put the tea chest away again. “When I asked Bruce about whether or not we were doing anything for Thanksgiving, you know—before the fiasco…He seemed to sort of…Glaze over.” 

Alfred purses his lips, considering. 

“The holidays have always been somewhat difficult for Mr. Wayne, but we haven't celebrated Thanksgiving since he was a very small boy.” 

“Oh…” You slouches back against the counter, scrubbing your hand across your forehead. “I wish I had known that. I’m sure this year hasn't sent him scurrying back to the table for turkey.”

“You couldn’t have known unless one of us told you,” Alfred soothes. “And if you consider it another way: the holiday can only get better going forward.” 

“...That’s certainly an optimistic way of looking at it. Though I may just hop on the bandwagon and never celebrate it again.” 

“It would certainly cut down on the dishes.” 

You snort a soft laugh, jokingly whacking his shoulder in admonishment before turning back to the stove, hearing the kettle scream. You fill each mug, glancing back as Alfred sits at the kitchen table with a plate of biscuits. You sit down across from him, passing him his tea before taking up a biscuit.

“...I take it he’s not back yet,” You hedge. 

“No…But it’s early.” 

Early. Your eyes stray to the clock. It’s nearly half past three. You shake your head a little, peering down into your tea and levering the bag in and out as you think. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“No,” You insist, “I just, um…Every once in a while I have these flashes to when I met Bruce. It was a little over a year ago now.” 

“I remember.”

“How are the gloves holding up, by the way?” 

“They’re in excellent condition.” 

“I better call my old manager. She’ll be so happy to hear it.”

The two of you share a chuckle before Alfred reaches out, resting his hand atop yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Drink your tea before it goes cold,” You nod toward it. “I know that drives you nuts.” 

“There is nothing worse than a cold cup of tea.” 

“So you keep telling me. What are your opinions on iced tea?” 

“That is an entirely different matter. It’s alright if the tea is cold, so long as it did not start out hot.” 

“Something tells me you’ve thought a lot about this. I’m starting to think this is what really keeps you up at night.”

“More than you could possibly imagine.” 

Next Part

[p0orbaby]

How about Wanda and Reader having a bet going on about what Tommy and Billy's first words will be. What they say instead is something completely unexpected 🤭

Bets

warnings: some suggestive stuff (inevitable at this point tbf)

a/n: apparently I’m in my horny era. Also i veered with request slightly, hope you don’t mind!

word count: 1.2k

-

“Twenty dollars?”

“No, Y/N”

“How about ten?”

Wanda stopped her task of folding clean laundry to look up at you pointedly, raising a perfectly sculpted brow at your persistence.

“And what makes you so confident you’ll win anyway?”

“I’ve dabbled”, you stated confidently. Bringing your hands up behind your head and getting comfortable against the bed cushions.

“Blackjack at Bucky’s birthday party doesn’t mean you’ve dabbled”

“Five dollars and a back massage?”

“I’m not betting on our kids”

“Sounds like something a loser would say”. Your wife narrowed her eyes. Took a deep breath in through her nose, and out again. Pursed her lips so they formed a straight line. All signs she was giving in and you found it hard to hide how smug you were about the whole thing. “Five dollars, a back massage and I’ll even throw in and all inclusive, child free evening, complete with a one, ish, star home cooked meal, all courtesy of Casa De Maximoff”

Sold.

Enough anyway. The tilt of her head told you she was just about willing to play along.

“I told you, I’ve dabbled,” you insisted. “And we’ve got a babysitting token to cash in. Natasha made the grave mistake of offering to look after the gremlins before their hands are full”

She nodded. That made sense.

“And what do you get out of this? You want me to cook if I lose?”

“Not exactly”

“Then what? If it’s five dollars you want, I’ll grab my purse right now and it’s yours”

“I want you to wear that lingerie set I got you for your birthday. The pretty pink one. And without the kids here, you’ll be able to wear it. All. Day. Long”

She started folding laundry again. Face turned down, more than likely to hide the blush that has crept onto her cheeks. “I’m only agreeing to this because it’ll be nice for them to spend time with their godparents”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, my darling wife”

-

You woke up alone the following morning.

The rain pattering on the windows roused you gently from your sleep. Unusual as a parent. Easy mornings and late starts usually meant the kids had gotten up to no good. Toddlers and quiet was an unsettling combination. However, the lack of your wife’s presence hopefully meant all was well.

Deciding to take your time and revel in the small amount of stillness you’d been gifted, you moved languidly through your morning routine. Stretching as you rolled out of bed. Discarding your clothes as you walked towards the bathroom. Letting your muscles loosen under the steaming water of the shower.

Washed, dressed and refreshed, you found your wife standing at the kitchen island cutting fruit as the boys sat in their highchairs, laughing at how the other was smacking their tray with their chubby hands.

“Boys, can you say hello to mommy? Can you say mommy?”

Your children stopped and looked at Wanda. Perplexed at her speaking to them. Smiling at the sound of her voice. They swiveled their heads when she pointed a finger in your direction. Showing you their gums when you stroked stray hairs away from their faces.

“Stealing them away to get a head start I see” you whispered before placing a quick kiss against your wife’s lips.

“If letting you sleep in and feeding your children is getting a head start, then you must be less confident than I thought”

“Ohh, playing the big leagues are we? Fine, I’ll bite” you said, lips ghosting hers again. Your breath tickling her skin before you pulled away.

“Alright crotch gremlins, let’s make a deal” you started, crouching down and rummaging through a cupboard to find what you were looking for. “If you say mama, you get one of these”

You shook a box in their direction. A box full of their favourite biscuit snacks. Their eyes lit up.

“You can’t bribe them! That’s cheating”

“Who said? Miss Quality Time getting scared?”

“You’re relentless, you know that right?” Wanda said. She was joking, her smirk told you so. But it still gave you an excuse to fire one back.

“You weren’t saying that last night when I-“

“Nope, nope, not here. Jesus you creep, the twins are right there”

“Yeah well, that’s what I thought. You’re weak! Isn’t she boys? Weak in the knees from last night!”

“Y/N!” Her squeal of your name was accompanied by a slap to your shoulder and a high pitch cackle from the children in front of you. They were enjoying the show.

“Mama or mommy boyos? Fun treats, or whatever boring fruit your mother has forced you to eat this time?”

Silence. Nothing.

“See? Bribery won’t work on them. I’ve taught them well”

As you turned to give Wanda a small slap to her ass, you heard it. It was quiet, almost a whisper, but it was there.

You spun on your heels, “what was that? Did one of you say something huh?”

Wide eyes looked up at you, then Tommy spoke in between chewing a strawberry.

“Weak”

Oh my god.

“Did he just say what I think he said?” Wanda whispered next to you. Shock lacing her words.

“Can you say that again bud?” You coaxed.

“Weak” he said again as if it was nothing, and you could’ve dropped to the floor right then and there. Your wife had the opposite idea and ran around the island to pepper kisses across his sugary cheeks.

“Tommy! You said your first word! My clever boy” your wife cooed. Picking him out of his high chair, spinning slowly around the kitchen in her arms.

You started laughing. Like really laughing. Billy was wide eyed with confusion, Wanda was prancing around with a toddler in her arms and tears in her eyes.

“What’s so funny? He just said his first word!” She exclaimed.

Between breaths, “of course his, his first word was an… an insult” you said proudly, sucking in air. “Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I see”

“A word is a word, I don’t care” she replied, beaming at you then your children. “At least it wasn’t a curse. Which I was half expecting with how often you swear around them”

“You do know what this means though?” You question. “Looks like we both lose”

There was a small moment Wanda took in what you had just said. The smile on her face faltering slightly.

“Don’t look so hard pressed, you get a cooked meal and a night of heavy petting. Child free might I add”

With a grimace she responds, “you mean a terrible dinner and a night without my boys”

“Well that's extremely rude, baby”

“Is it now? Well what are you gonna do about it?” She asked, picking up the phone presumably to see if Natasha and Bucky have a free evening.

“Oh you wait and see, Wands. But whatever I come up with, you'll be glad the boys won’t be around to copy what’s gonna be spewing out your pretty mouth later”

And even with the glare she gave you as the receiver rang muffled through the phone, the glint in her eyes told you everything you needed to know.

Bets won or lost, you both would be cashing out tonight.

[rmgkyle]

Omg sorry I’m SO late I was busy doing all the FANART for people and with work which made me really tired and sick. Yes, I’m really sick, my asthma is getting worse and my head has been hurting.

But I’m making this post for Christmas special for people I enjoy talking to/ hanging out with.

First is @smg-24

Man…you make so many art of RMG which I really appreciate by the way because you drew her A LOT, and that’s not all..I really enjoy ur company and helped me with stuff I was struggling with. You put a smile on my face every time I see you online or whenever we are on call. I love our friendship so much I never regret meeting you at all tbh, you make my day so much better because of ur personality and being around you makes everything better . I hope we stay best friends forever.🫶🏻💗

Next up is @mikchi8

Mikchi. How do I even start-

You are really funny in general and have good jokes, it makes me laugh every time. And also, you just are interesting too..I MEAN like you crazy and all but you still are a good person. Whenever I see u in the vc’s I join because you light up my mood, even when ur only in there. I like the way u act and I like ur style with ur ocs, it very classy and adorable.Im so glad I met you because you’re the most I talk to in the server. Your friendship has brought so much joy and positivity into my life.🫶🏻💗

Then is @knightedmares

Bro..YOU ARE SO FREAKIN COOL AND AWESOME I LOVE U MAN. I really adore you a lot and you are just WAY too cool in general.You are an amazing friend and buddy, like I literally want to be you so bad. You have good taste in music and fashion on your ocs.KNIGHTMARE I wish I could give u a big tight hug for being an awesome person to everyone, including me also.You should honestly be proud of yourself for being a chill dude. I love you man🫶🏻💗

Other is @neo91502

Hahaha…YOU..YOU SILLY SILLY LITTLE CREATURE..First, I just want to say that your yapping in the vc’s are like music to my ears, you yap about anything which is impressive if I’m going to be honest. In general, you make silly art of the silly meme Guardians and yaoi, makes me smile every time I see them.Jokes are funnier when YOU tell them because you’re just silly crazy, possibly insane.Literally everyone loves you if you think about it, we are going crazy of you.How do you make everyone laugh? 💗🫶🏻

More @libbytwq LORE!!

I get excited everytime I see you like I’ve been a fan since 2023 when you had those non-smg4 characters.You make really creative ocs and art I mean, you had so many cool ocs I just want to eat them one by one, Especially cee cee skies.Whenever you join the vc’s I spam ur name because i love when you’re hanging around! I gotta say, you grew more for the past months that I lowkey miss ur non-smg4 characters/silly anyways 🫶🏻💗

@nxva-blogz ( I know you can’t see this but ima send it to you on discord.)

Nova I just want to appreciate the fact you lighten my day and your jokes make me crack up everytime, they are really funny and the silly stuff with hexsy.I know u are a little goofy sometimes but idc, I can be goody with you😈. Anyways- I love when you joke around with hex3 or hex4 the “Tomm you should make a comic about hex3/hex4) it makes me laugh. The stupid quotes from hexsy is hilarious bro I can’t get it outta my head.💗🫶🏻

@moonlight12086

Oh my dear moon..my little silly crazy kitty..

YOU..!!!! YOU!!! YOU I LOVE U SM BRO UR SO COOL AND I LOVE UR STYLE SO MUCH!!! Your animated shit is so cool I swear like- I love you pookie, I’m so glad I met you because you’re not leaving me /j💗I REALLY hope we stay bffs forever and ever and I wish I could hug you rn I miss you. Your style is beautiful and delicious I just want to eat it right now because I bet it would taste like Cotten candy or biscuits, possibly caramel. You put a smile on my face every time we talk💗🫶🏻

@coralalala64

Girl... You're Hilarious with ur gifs and personally, makes me weeze all day 🤣. You are a nice and good person in general to begin with and I wanna say..ur art..doodles..anything..IS YUMMY I SWEAR ESPECIALLY THE ANGST AND LITTLE FETUSES YOU MAKE AGHHH. You literally slay all day queen /j but I also want to mention that YOU EAT CHIPS IN A BOWL🤣😭 nah girl same- anyways I want to give you a million hugs because you're the best :) 🫶

@tiredsmashbros

Well....well...well..what do we have here..

YOU SILLY SILLY BURGER GOOBER MAN I SWEAR-

YOU MAKE AMAZING DELICIOUS FOOD THAT I MUNCH ONE BY ONE. YOUR COMICS ARE SO DELICIOUS, EVEN THE BOWLUIGI ONE BECAUSE I LOVE THEM SMMMM😭😭 AND U JUST MAKE ME FEEL BETTER WHEN I TALK TO YOU CAUSE UR LITERALLY TOMM?!?? WHO WOULDN'T FEEL EXCITED AND NERVOUS?! I also want to say that ive been looking at your account for a while now and when you brought up 'discord server' I was nervous and excited to meet you for the first time. We both have same interests in fandoms which is surprising tbh😟 you make me smile when u talk to me because you are my top BIGGEST IDOL. 🫶

@kittykibbl

Hey kitty... 😈

Kitty you make really good angst of van and hexsy because its so scrumptious and tasty. You are a cool, chill dude in general, literally I swear- when you draw characters they look so cartoony and jiggly it looks amazing. Sometimes you peek in the vc's to Either scare us or see how we are doing. Just to let you know, you are the most important person in the server rn this second. 🫶

If I didn't ping you or make you fanart, I APOLOGIZE BECAUSE IM REALLY SICK SO I CANT THINK RN.

MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!! LOVE YOU GUYS

[tomahachi12]

Hello I love the murder drones virus au that your working on i definitely love how your giving it a infectious disease like pattern.in middle school before Covid I actually wanted to be a epidemiologist a person who studies the pattern of outbreaks of diseases,so I have a bunch of random knowledge on diseases so I’m loving this au.I also love how you are putting different stages of the illness and different side effects and the stages of transformation.

also what real life disease were you inspired by to make this au,to me so far it looks to be inspired by rabies considering that it’s transferred through bites and the infected individual is in a bit of agrresive like state?also if it is inspired by rabies do the infected experience something similar to that of hydrophobia that humans that get rabies experience?

also my question is uzi transforming into a bat cause that will be cool and very fitting if the virus is inspired by rabies cause bats here where I live in the US are the number 1 carriers of the rabies virus?also do the infected have traits left over from when they were infected like the body changes?one last question was the virus idea also inspired by that of stories of rabies from way back in the days where people thought people infected with rabies were werewolves and would transform after getting bitten?

anyway I hope you don’t mind this long message I just really love your au and I love learning about diseases and watching murder drones so this is one of the greatest aus I’ve came across combining two of my interests.keep up the great work.

oh goodness!

I'm glad you're enjoying the AU!

It was more-so inspired by the werewolf thing, but I can see how it could be similar to rabies as well!

as for the effects, no, they don't become hydrophobic. It's just a highly contagious data virus that only effects Solver drones, increases aggression (makes it easier to spread) and causes physical changes to their bodies,

mostly just werewolfy stuff (:

I'm a huge nerd for werewolf/transformation shit, it's just so much fun!

Uzi transforms into a bat cause it better fits with her Solver form having the bat wings anyway.

Even after being cured they may still have some lingering traits that stuck with them. V still makes biscuits and purrs (she gets embarrassed by it), N chews on things and sometimes get caught chasing his tail (though he probably already did all that before the infection), J idly whistles or chirps and starts using her wings more often. Uzi get a little more bitey and sometimes prefers to sleep upside-down, but she'll fall in the middle of the night/day whenever they sleep (N places pillows or a mattress under her or he'll join and hold onto her.)

[neewtmas]

hihihi im here with the request hehe thank you so so so so much again you’re so amazing i can’t believe it

lockwood x she/her reader with the prompts

"Prove it."

"How much of that did you hear?"

“It's a long story." "I got time, try me."

but if they don’t make sense just go with the flow you’re already so so so so so wonderful for doing all of this i’m not gonna be picky lol 🫂🫂🩷🩷

hellooooo!!! thank you so much for these great prompts and for your patience!

I have to admit I did struggle with an idea at first but I think I turned it around and now I'm actually really proud of this, so I hope you like it too :)))

Enjoy 1.5k of Lockwood goodness just for you <333

masterlist

When you woke up, the room was filled with the pale glow of the full moon shining outside the attic window. Usually, Lucy pulled the curtains close when she went to bed, so there shouldn’t have been a way for the moonlight to disturb your peaceful slumber. Your eyes were heavy as you felt around the other side of the mattress. It was cold, Lucy’s blanket still folded up from the morning before. You slowly sat up, looking over at the little digital alarm clock on Lucy’s bedside table.

11:30.

Due to a headache, you had gone to bed earlier tonight, leaving your three colleagues behind in the living room. The pounding in your head had subsided considerably after a few hours of sleep, but your throat felt dry like sandpaper. You reached over to the cup on your bedside table, only to find it equally dry. Oh well. With your house slippers on, cup in hand, you made your way down the stairs. You made an effort to be quiet, just in case anyone else was sleeping already.

The kitchen was dark, and you didn’t bother switching on the bright light which would have probably only hurt your eyes anyway. The faucet was right by the window, where the moon shone bright enough for you to see what you were doing. After two cups of water, you were ready to make your way back to your bed. As you carefully pulled the kitchen door closed behind you, your eyes fell on the thin strip of light that poured out of the living room onto the floorboards of the hallway.

On second thought, maybe the bed could wait and you could join Lucy for some late-night talks in the living room. You stepped closer to the door, subconsciously trying to move as quietly as possible. As you approached the door, you could hear Lockwood’s voice as well as Lucy’s. So they were both still awake. The door was slightly ajar, allowing you to peer into the room before opening it fully.

Lockwood and Lucy sat on the couch, Lucy with her back to you. George was nowhere to be seen, probably in bed already. Something about the way Lockwood and Lucy were turned towards each other made you stop in your tracks. The hand that had been ready to push open the door slowly fell to your side, as you watched with wide eyes as Lockwood took both of Lucy’s hands, smiling at her tenderly.

“Look, I’ve been trying to get this off my chest for such a long time. Ever since you started working here, really. You are so important to me.”

It felt like someone had placed a noose around your neck and pulled it tight. Were you about to watch Lockwood confess his love to Lucy?

Lockwood hesitated now. You watched Lucy squeeze his hands. “Go on”, she said encouragingly.

“More important than I could ever put into words. Everything about you is perfect to me.”

Suddenly you felt like throwing up. Your head was spinning as you stumbled backwards and blindly felt for the wall to steady you. The thought of them being able to hear you didn’t even cross your mind as you practically raced up the stairs.

⫘⫘A few minutes prior, in the living room⫘⫘

“No, stop! Try again.”

George was slouched in one of the chairs, biscuit in hand. “That was horrible, Lockwood. Where are the feelings? Where is the love? I’m not feeling the love!”

Lucy had to bite back a laugh as Lockwood grimaced. “It’s Lucy! You try confessing your undying love to Lucy, and we can talk again.”

She kicked his shin. “Hey! Don’t forget I’m trying to help you out here. Just imagine it’s Y/N. Shouldn’t be that hard, we know she’s all you think about.”

The tips of Lockwood’s ears went pink. “Alright, alright. Let’s try again. Lucy, don’t look at me like that or I’ll laugh.”

Lucy made an effort to keep a neutral expression. Lockwood went to grab both her hands and took a deep breath.

“Look, I’ve been trying to get this off my chest for such a long time. Ever since you started working here, really. You are so important to me.” A short pause. George nodded encouragingly and showed a thumbs up. Lucy squeezed Lockwood’s hands.

“Go on.”

“More important than I could ever put into words. Everything about you is perfect to me.”

Lockwood was about to continue when the sound of footsteps on the stairs sounded through the room. He immediately dropped Lucy’s hands. “Did you hear that?”

George got up, turning to the door. “Yes”, he said slowly. “Sounded like someone running up the stairs.” He and Lucy exchanged a worried look as Lockwood rushed to the door. “Shit! Do you think she heard?”

“Probably.”

“That was not the plan!” But Lockwood didn’t stay to explain what exactly the plan was, instead, he ran out into the hallway and up the stairs, taking three steps at once.

Lucy looked over to George. He just shrugged. “Maybe that was the kick in the ass he needed.”

Lockwood was sure that he had never run up a set of stairs that fast in his life. He was out of breath as he came to a halt in front of the door to the attic. His hands were sweaty as he knocked a few times, praying that you would open the door.

At the knock you sat up on the bed, frantically wiping away the tears from your cheeks. Who could that be? George? Maybe your running had woken him up and he was here to tell you off. You buried your head in your pillow. You didn’t want to talk to him. You wanted to wallow in self-pity and cry about the fact that the boy you liked, liked your best friend instead. But the knocks continued.

You wiped your cheeks again, just for good measure and hoped that the tears weren’t so obvious. You pulled open the door, ready to tell George that you were sorry but not in the mood for a scene, but the words died in your throat as you came face to face with Lockwood. You gasped, trying to close the door again. He moved so quickly that you barely registered it and held it open.

“Are you crying?”, he asked, and while you shook your head, the tears came back with a vengeance at the concern and tenderness in his voice. “No”, you sniffled, taking a few steps back. “Leave me alone, please.”

He ignored you. “What’s wrong? Were you downstairs?” You didn’t say anything, just wiped another stray tear. Lockwood sighed deeply. “How much of that did you hear?"

It felt like your stomach had tied itself into a thousand knots. “Listen, Lockwood, I’m happy for you and Lucy, but please, I need some time to myself right now.”

“Y/N –“ Lockwood ran his hand through his hair. “Listen to me. It’s not what you think.”

Suddenly, you could feel anger rising within you. What was he trying to do? Flirting with you for months, keeping your hopes up, only to then choose Lucy and tell you ‘it’s not what it looks like’.

“It’s not? It seemed awfully clear to me, Lockwood.”

You could tell he was hurt by your sharp tone.

“I swear it’s not. Please, Y/N, you have to believe me. It's a long story."

You crossed your arms over your chest. "I got time, try me."

Lockwood buried his face in his hand. It was hard for you to see him like this. He seemed to be in great distress.

He stepped closer to you, and you allowed him to take your hands, even though you immediately had the picture of him doing the same to Lucy in your mind.

“This is going to sound so dumb, but I promise you it’s the truth. I’ve been thinking so long about how I could possibly tell you how I feel about you. And George had this idea – this stupid idea where I would confess to Lucy, but pretend it’s you. Like a practice run. That’s what you heard.”

You stared at him. “How could I possibly believe that?”, you finally asked, and his shoulders slumped down. “You always know exactly what to say, in every situation. How am I supposed to believe that you need to practice –“

“Because you make me so unbelievably nervous, Y/N. You should have heard the five attempts before that final one. It was pathetic. George could have come up with something better.”

You smiled weakly. “I’m not sure about this.”

Lockwood looked at you, desperation written all over his face. “I know a way of proving it to you if you let me”, he said, his right hand slipping up your arm to cup your cheek. “Please?”

Your head was spinning from his sudden closeness and the warmth of his hand. You closed your eyes. “Prove it”, you whispered and your heart skipped a beat as you felt the soft touch of his lips on yours.

[echo-goes-mmm]

Kitty Elliot AU #5

Masterpost

Previous

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Warnings: none

Elliot silently watched Ambrose prep for dinner, his tail tucked between his legs. 

“Do you like mushrooms?” Ambrose asked conversationally. 

Elliot said nothing, which seemed to be his default. Maybe he couldn’t, and wasn’t that a disturbing thought.

“I’m making oxtails,” he continued. “It takes a while to cook, but braised oxtail and mushrooms are one of my favorites.”

He glanced over at Elliot, who was still anxiously pressed against the lower cabinets. Poor thing.

Ambrose got the cast iron pot from storage. It was a large pot, one he used for stews.

“I like to use as much of an animal as I can,” he said, scraping the mushrooms into the pot with the back of his knife. “It’s more respectful, I think.”

He added the onions, garlic, and ground pepper. 

“Little Wood is a farming community, and they work so hard. I don’t want to waste their efforts, you know?”

___________________

Master was talking at him.

Elliot couldn’t really be bothered to pay attention, not with a knife in Master’s hands.

There were few things more dangerous than a Master’s hands. They hurt and grabbed and took things.

Besides, it didn’t matter that Master was chatting. Elliot had no permission- or want- to speak back, and the inane talk of ‘favorite food’ and ‘wastefulness’ meant nothing. They weren’t commands.

Elliot didn’t have a favorite anyway; he only ate what was given. 

The consequences of stealing weren’t worth it.

He watched as Master tore up herbs and ground up spices. It smelled good, and it made his mouth water.

Elliot swallowed his longing and carefully edged around Master and darted out the doorway.

And ran straight into James.

“Move, cat,” James huffed, shoving him aside and into the wood of the bar. It dug into his bruises, sending pains both sharp and dull through his body. Elliot bit back a yelp, and James passed by without a second glance. 

It was his fault for being in the way. 

He pulled himself away from the bar, wincing. Pets should be quiet and not underfoot. 

He made his way further into the dining room. It was empty for now, and the birds still sang. Sunlight came through the windows and looked so warm and inviting-

He hopped on the nearest window ledge, opting to sprawl out in the sun. He cushioned his head on his arms, and lay listening to the birds.

___________________

Elliot didn’t mean to doze off, but the sudden sound of a bell had him jolting awake.

The front door opened and closed with a ring of metal and his heart pounded.

But it was only a villager, come for dinner, no doubt. 

The air smelled strongly of tender beef and fresh bread, and he knew he wasn’t wanted here. Or at least, he didn’t want so many eyes on him.

He scrambled off the windowsill and slipped upstairs.

___________________

“Evening, Micheal.” Ambrose nodded at Mr. Tallow as he sat at the bar. “Dinner?”

“Please.”

Ambrose loaded a plate with beef, gravy, veggies, and a biscuit. He poured an ale, and slid the two across the bar.

“I saw a catfolk in the window.”

“He’s a guest.” He poured a few beers, handing it off to James to serve to a table.

“Little far from home, isn’t he?” Michael asked, taking a sip of ale. 

Ambrose shrugged, stacking empty glasses. “He hasn’t said.” He hasn’t said anything. At all. “How’s the wheat coming along?”

“Changing the subject, hm?” Micheal shook his head, teasing.

Ambrose shrugged, wiping down the bar. “I’d rather not gossip about my guests.”

“With that attitude, you’re just going to make people more curious. Is he staying long?”

Ambrose didn’t have many friends in town. Mostly just acquaintances; people who respected him but didn’t really know him.

Micheal was one of them. Maybe he could trust him to keep things discrete.

“Look, it’s really no one’s business. Elliot is shy, and scared, and he can stay as long as he wants.”

“Scared?” Micheal repeated, his brow furrowed.

“Just do me a favor and make sure it isn’t a big deal, yeah?”

Micheal nodded, taking another sip of ale. “You got it.”

___________________

Elliot curled up on the bed, waiting.

There must be at least a dozen people downstairs, talking and chatting and eating.

The smells were almost overwhelming, and the noise was palpable. He was sure he’d get used to it eventually, but it almost made him wish for the muffled quiet of the box.

Just the quiet. Not the box.

After hours of waiting, the people began to leave. Slowly but surely, the inn sounded empty, and Elliot’s stomach was once again wanting.

He poked his head out the door and listened. Nothing but Master and the sound of softly clinking dishes. Perfect.

Elliot quietly padded down the stairs and into the kitchen. No doubt Master would be clearing the plates, and if he were lucky, the scraps would be his dinner.

He knelt by the counter and waited for his owner.

___________________

Ambrose nearly dropped the stack of dishes he was carrying when he saw the cat boy on the floor.

His eyes were trained on the ground, but his twitching tail betrayed nervousness.

“Uh, hey,” he said, setting the dishes by the sink. “Did you come down for some dinner?”

Elliot looked up at him, whining. His hands came up to his chest, the picture of begging. His eyes glanced at the dirty plates on the counter, lingering on the scraps of food.

Definitely not. 

“Wait right here,” he said, turning to grab a clean plate. Elliot whimpered behind him, and Ambrose’s heart panged. 

“I’m not going to feed you bones and crumbs, sweetheart. You need more than that,” he reassured him, filling up the plate.

He glanced over at Elliot, who’s wide eyes were trained on the food in his hands.

“I don’t suppose you feel like sitting at a table this time?”

Elliot didn’t seem to hear him, too distracted.

Well, baby steps.

He put the plate on the floor in front of him, and Elliot eagerly looked up.

“Go ahead, it’s fine.”

Elliot used his hands at least, tearing apart the biscuits and sopping up the gravy with the bread.

Ambrose turned back to the sink, and started on the dishes.

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[bitkahuna]

no but this was hard as fuck and I'm proud

-----

“Who let you in a pub?” Sirius almost looked impressed.

“Invisibility cloak.”

Sirius nodded. “Right.”

But Remus wasn’t so quick to dismiss the situation. “How were you allowed out that late? You’re still thirteen! Don’t you have a curfew?”

Harry shrugged. “The Leaky Cauldron's unlocked till midnight.”

The lycanthrope blanched. “Are you-? Is- Harry. Please don’t tell me you’re staying at a tavern.”

“He only charges me half price.”

The two adults looked at each other, their faces conveying various levels of stress and concern.

“It’s where I stayed last summer.” He added. “Sirius used to follow me around.”

Remus looked at Sirius with wide eyes. “You knew?!”

“I was in hiding! Not like I knew he was doing it again this year! I figured he’d hole up with the Weasleys or something. Molly and Arthur keep offering.”

The werewolf’s face suddenly changed, as if struck by some brilliant idea. “That’s it! I’ll tell Molly. If she finds out, there’s no way she’d allow you to-”

“No!” Harry cried. “I like living on my own!” He insisted. “Besides,” he hesitated, thinking on his words. “I’ll stop telling you things. You know I’m going to keep doing stupid stuff, but at least this way you know about it. Wouldn’t it be worse to have no idea what I’m up to?”

Remus only stared down at Harry with a dropped jaw, while Sirius let out a laugh. “He’s got us there, Moony.”

“I already paid for the room anyway.”

Remus squinted his eyes, turning from Harry to Sirius. “You’re just going to sit there and laugh? You’re his godfather! He’s your legal responsibility!”

“Not yet. Dumbledore’s still getting my charges dropped. I don’t know how he’ll get me off for escaping, though.”

“Morally, he absolutely is your responsibility!” Remus took a deep breath before turning to the boy. “Harry, there’s some biscuits in the kitchen. Why don’t you go help yourself?”

Harry nodded, taking the cue and leaving the room. But he still listened in on their grumbles to each other through the closed door as they tried to keep their voices down. They didn’t do a very good job.

Remus began, "Really, Padfoot? Don’t you care at all about Harry being a homeless runaway?”

“Of course I care, but what am I supposed to do?”

“You may be on the run, but you own a fucking house. A house that nobody lives in! You aren’t helpless; you can give him a place to stay. And if you did, that old house elf of yours could keep an eye on him.”

“Kreacher?!”

“Yes!”

“Remus I know it’s been a while, but surely you must remember the absolute devil of a house elf that old man is! He’d hate Harry. He hates me!”

“Not like you make it very hard! Either way, you’d better come up with something. You’re his godfather; James chose you.”

"I didn’t ask him to.“

There was silence for a while. Even Harry swallowed at such a comment.

Did Sirius not want to be his godfather?

“How dare you.”

Harry’s eyes widened. He’d never heard Remus sound like that before. Not even when they confronted Peter. It was low, like the rolling thunder before a vicious storm.

“I know you’re mad that escaping Azkaban and killing Peter didn’t solve all your problems, but this is your life now, Sirius, and that boy is part of it. I know he spoke to you all the time in the Forbidden Forest. I know he’s told you things he probably hasn’t told me. He trusts you, Sirius. He loves you! James’ boy loves you, Sirius. And you’d dare to say something so heartless!”

"Remus, I-" Sirius' voice faltered. He sounded broken.

"Harry needs more than just a godfather," Remus continued, his voice tinged with a barely restrained anger. "He needs a home, Sirius. A family. He needs guidance; he needs someone who is not going to abandon him at the slightest inconvenience."

"I'm not abandoning him!" Sirius snapped.

"You might as well be!" Remus retorted. "You're too focused on your own problems to see what's happening right in front of you! He’s living in The Leaky fucking Caldron! He’s hanging out in Knockturn Alley! Not even you were ever so desperate to run away from home."

"And you think you're doing any better?!"

There was a brief, tense silence and Harry could picture the two men glaring at each other.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Moony. Of course I love Harry; I’d do anything for him. But …” Sirius’s voice faltered, “I just don’t know if I can be what he needs. I’ve been locked away for over a decade, and before that, you know as well as anyone else that I was never very responsible.”

“You don’t have to be perfect, Sirius!” Remus’ voice was laced with frustration. “You just have to be there for him, and right now that means giving him a safe place to stay. I'm not his godfather!" Remus finally said, nearly shouting. "I'm not the one James entrusted with his son."

"You're right." Sirius conceded after a pause. "You're not his godfather … maybe you should've been."

Harry felt sick. His arms wrapped around his stomach as he hurried towards Remus’ sink on shaking legs. He took a deep breath and tears flooded down his face as he held back nausea.

Sirius didn't want to be his godfather.

Sirius was rejecting him.

This was fine. It’s fine. Certainly, it’s fine. The Dursleys didn’t want to be his family either, so why does he care what some stupid escaped convict dogman thinks?

His legs trembled, and he sank to the floor, grabbing an empty bucket from under the tap and ducking his head inside, just in case. He was so tired of being sad.

"HOW DARE YOU?!” Remus roared.

“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“You're not just James and Lily's old friend anymore! You’re Harry’s family!"

"You're right, Moony!" His voice was strained. “I don’t know how to do this. I can barely take care of myself!”

“How about you start by thinking about him and not yourself for two fucking seconds, I’m begging you!”

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 8

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I spend most of Christmas Eve in bed relaxing and catching up on much-needed sleep after days of long, busy shifts at the cafe paired with hours of wedding and party planning, all while trying to stay in contact with my intriguing new phone pal. But much to my dismay, and appreciation, Stella refused to let me stay alone through the night. She insisted I come over for dinner and stay for Christmas. As in her words, “It would be an atrocity for my best friend to spend the holidays alone”. So, I had no choice but to kindly accept her demand. 

As I walk towards the subway station my phone starts buzzing in my jacket pocket. I smile hoping it’s Jensen or Stella, but instead, it’s my boss. I sigh and brace myrself as I step out of the path of fast-passing pedestrians and lean against the brick wall of a fashion boutique. 

“Stewie, Hey!” I answer as brightly as possible.

“Y/N, Hi. I know I agreed to let you have today off, and that still stands. We’re closing soon anyway. But I just wanted to let you know a package got delivered here this morning with your name on it. There something wrong with the mail at your apartment? Your neighbours stealing your packages again?”

“Uh…no. Not that I know of. I didn’t order anything.”

“Ah, well I’ll leave it in my office. You have a key, you can swing by through the back and pick it up whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m actually around the corner right now. Can I swing by now before you close?”

“Sure! I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, Stewie. See you soon!” I hang up and rush down the street in the opposite direction, back towards the cafe. The sign’s already flicked to ‘closed’ when I get there, but there's light on in the kitchen so I go in. 

“Stewie, it’s just me. For the package,” I call out as I walk towards the lit-up kitchen. As I get closer, the smell of fresh bread and cookies overwhelms my senses. “You know we’re closing for two days, right?” I call out as I round the corner into the spacious kitchen.

The short, round balding man, with just a few strands of grey hair, comes into view carrying a tray of shortbread biscuits straight out of the oven. His glasses, sitting on the tip of his nose, are fogged up. “Yeah, yeah. But I got a big family to feed and a tiny kitchen to do it with. I put everything I got into keeping this place open. I may as well make the most of it.”

“Good idea. So, uh, the package?” I ask as I eye off the golden biscuits, shaped like gingerbread men, wreaths, bells and candy canes. My empty stomach growls andI clear my throat to hide it, but, despite his age, old Stewie hears it.

“Help yourself. I can spare a few. Grab a takeaway container. You can even have a loaf of bread, they’ll be done soon…Wife wants me home before dark.”

“I couldn’t. They’re for your family. I’m just here for my package, remember?”

“Listen, I ain’t no Scrooge. I know your measly salary may make you think I am, but I pay you as much as I can. Outside the holidays, we’re barely making rent. Least I can do is give you a few cookies and some bread.”

“Stewie, I know you do your best for this place and all of us. We all know it. But if you insist, I do find it hard to resist your cooking. Rudie’s great, but you’re the master.”

“No need for flattery, kiddo. Go grab your package from my office and I’ll package up some cookies and bread for you.”

“Alright, thanks. You’re the best!” I smile at Stewie as I go into his office. Mamma Jo was his mother, who passed a few short months ago. She was the light of the kitchen whenever she visited to check on things. Stewie runs the place with as much passion as she did, yet he hasn’t baked since she passed, that is, until tonight. I smile, hoping he’s finally finding his passion again. 

I spot a medium-sized cardboard box on the edge of the desk, I shake my head wondering what it could possibly be. Once I get close enough, I read the label. 

To Y/NMamma Jo’s Coffee and Chocolateria204 5th Ave, New York, NY 10019

From Jensen Acklesc/o Management Beverly Hills, CA 90210

I quickly pull my phone out, snap a picture of the parcel and send it to Jensen.

Hey Superstar, this your doing? Thought you were in Texas?

I don’t wait for a reply, I put my phone away and go back into the kitchen with the box tucked under my arm and my overnight bag slung over my other shoulder. Stewie hands me two boxes of warm goods; I don’t look inside but they smell delicious. He looks at me dubiously as I attempt to carry it all.

“How far you headed, Kiddo?”

“Not far, it’s okay. I’ll manage,” I try to assure him, but he sees right through it. He gives me a look to say he doesn’t believe me; it’s the kind of look you would expect from a parent who’s waiting for their child to come clean. “My friend’s place in Lower Manhattan. She and her fiance invited me for Christmas so I wouldn’t be alone. Plus, I’m helping with the wedding planning.”

“If you help me pack all these up,” Stewie says gesturing at the cooling cookies and bread, “and clean up the kitchen. I’ll drive you.”

“I’m happy to help, but you do not need to drive me that far out of your way on Christmas Eve.”

“I don’t endorse free labor, so either you get out of here now, or you stay and help and then I drive you.”

Feeling the strain in my arms already and dreading the walk in the snow, I make a decision. I sigh and put everything down on a clear counter and then start carefully boxing up cookies. Stewie nods and starts packaging the loaves of bread, croissants and other pastries on the other tray. Once we finish packaging everything, I clean the trays, bowls and utensils while Stewie wipes down the oven and benches. Working in perfect harmony, we’re finished in no time.

It takes a few trips to load everything into his delivery van parked in the back alley. Despite his insistence that it’s all for his family, I know he’ll end up sharing with his whole block and it just makes me admire him more. 

After shutting off the lights and locking up, Stewie skillfully navigates out of the alley and out onto the busy street towards Lower Manhattan. I provide directions to the best of my ability, using my knowledge of the few times Nick has driven me with some –a lot of–help from the GPS on my phone. AsI’m looking at the map I notice a text come through from Jensen, but I swipe up quickly to make it go away so I can focus on providing directions. 

After a while, Stewie pulls up in Stella and Nick’s driveway. I thank him sincerely, collect my things and carefully trudge through the light covering of snow to get to the front door. I wave Stewie off once Stella opens the door. I’m instantly welcomed by the warm and enticing smell of roast chicken. 

“I come bearing gifts, Merry Christmas guys!” I say as I signal for Stella to take the boxes of treats. She eagerly takes them as she eyes the other box at the same time. Luckily, though the smell distracts her and she hurries into the kitchen to put the boxes down and peek inside. 

Nick peeks over her shoulder. “Sourdough? That’ll be perfect to go with dinner. I’ll put the store-bought shit back.”

“Rudie or Stewie?” Stella asks critically.

“Stewie. He’s finally coming back on board after everything,” I offer happily.

“Yay!” Stella says clapping as she reaches for a cookie, but Nick slaps her hand away.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” He looks over at my still full arms and nods towards the stairs. “Guest room’s all set up for you so you don’t have to pass out on the couch this time. And if that’s a gift for us it can go under the tree.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks. I’ll just go put my stuff down,” I say with a smile before slipping upstairs to the guest room. I dump my bag on the floor and the box on the bed. I stare at it curiously. Then remember the text in the car. I pull your phone out to read it, but Stella bursts in.

“I tried to make it all nice and pretty and festive for my bestest maid of honor!” She says joyfully as she points out the little Christmas tree and tinsel decorating the dresser.

“It looks amazing! You’re the best,” I say brightly, yet distracted. 

“You didn’t have to get us anything you know,” she says as she gestures at the box. “You being here and organising the bridal shower and helping with the wedding is more than enough. I know money’s tight at the moment.”

“Good, 'cause it’s not from me…Jensen sent it to the cafe. Stewie called and told me to pick it up, hence all the pastries and cookies. I wasn’t meant to go in today…”

“Jensen sent you a gift?”

“I’m not sure if he did or if he got his management team to. Maybe it’s an NDA and warning? He’s in Texas and it says California so…” I finally look down at my phone screen.

It was and I amI wanted to put my address, I didBut with no NDA my agent was against itBut I promise it’s from me

“He says it’s from him, his agent just wouldn’t let him put his address,” I explain, half to Stella and half to make yourself believe it. As I’m talking another text comes through.

Open it yet, Sweetheart?

“He asked if I opened it yet?”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Stella urges as she pushes the box closer to me.

I touch the tape but then withdraw and text him back.

Should I not wait until Christmas?

After a minute his name pops up on my screen. I look hesitantly between the phone and my best friend. She nods understanding and stands up. “I’ll be downstairs, but I want details when you’re done!”

I nod and shoo her out quickly before leaning my back against the now-closed door.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never

[the-library-of-forgotten-endings]

Ink-Stained Love is Not Ideal, Part 2: Love of the Ink-Stained Usurper

Overblots x reader

Reader pronouns used: not applicable

Content warnings: kinda yandere OB Leona...

Boy, oh boy, OB Leona looks pissed.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Magic gleams in his palms, and you think, oh god, he’s gonna sand me, isn’t he?

You swallow, then smile brightly. “Leona! My favourite furry! How’re you doing?” You shoot him some finger guns.

OB Leona frowns even more at your choice of words. “What’s a ‘furry?’”

“Um, nothing!” You laugh nervously. “Um, anyways, pal, do you mind opening the portal out of here or something?”

“Why would you want that?” OB Leona steps towards you. “You came here because you wanted to, didn’t you? So why d’you want to leave?”

Oh, crackers. “Listen, buddy, this place is dope and all, but Keeping Up With The Kardashians is on tonight and I can’t miss that, so if you don’t mind opening that–”

“I don’t think so.”

And suddenly, OB Leona is very, very close to you, right up in your No-No Square, and he has this weirdly intense look in his eyes. His rough, calloused fingers coated in a thin layer of sand trace your cheekbone, the heat of magic warming your face gently.

Drip, drip, drip, goes the ink.

“A king has never ruled alone,” he tells you. “And I don’t intend to be the first one.”

“…Ok, but I don’t see what that has to do with–” And then, it hits you. “You’re in love with me?”

OB Leona grins, baring all his teeth. “Took you long enough to figure that out, Herbivore.” You’ve gotta be shitting me.

“…Ok!” you chirp. “That’s great! Amazing! Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Just… one thing.”

“If it’s about leaving, then I don’t want to hear it.”

“No, no, no!” You stroke OB Leona’s arm, hoping that might do something to calm him down. “It’s about temporarily leaving!”

OB Leona’s hands begin to glow, and you hastily add, “Emphasis on the ‘temporary!’”

“…” The glowing stops, thankfully.

“Leona, sweetheart, hear me out for a second, because I think you’ll like this.”

“You’d better make it quick.”

“You’re like, king now, right?”

“There’s no one else, so this realm has no choice.”

“…Great, great! Anyways, so what I’m saying, is, how would you feel about matching crowns!”

“…What?”

“Matching crowns! One for the king, and one for your consort! It can be my gift for you for Valentine’s!”

“I still don’t see the point.”

“W-Well, the thing is…” You quickly scrape your mind for some argument that would appeal to OB Leona, and to your delight, you find one. “You know, by matching with me, you’re kind of marking me as yours, yeah? Now doesn’t that butter your biscuit?”

“I don’t need a crown to mark you.” OB Leona grins that grin with all his teeth, and begins to lean closer to you. Oh shit, oh shit, red alert–

“But sweetheart, you would look really, really hot in a crown!”

Leona pauses. For a moment, there is silence. You hope it’s a good silence.

“…I can’t say,” Leona finally tells you, “that I don’t like the idea of making your heart race.”

And that sounds so much like the Real Leona, so much so that you feel your cheeks heat up and your heart flutter a little.

OB Leona releases you from his grasp, and snaps his fingers. Immediately, a portal opens, showing a deep, dark sea. Azul’s realm.

“Be quick about it,” and OB Leona grins that sharp grin of his again. “The longer you make me wait, the hungrier I’ll get.”

“Then drink milk,” you mutter to yourself, then leap through the portal and into the waters.

[rhodesrider]

My Girl

Mafia!Cg!Cody R. x Spoiled!Little!Black!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Agere, mentions of weapons, affirmation, cussing, fluff, mentions of violence and self defense

~~~

A peaceful morning, the cool breeze in the room from the AC being triggered on a timer. A pair of rich brown eyes flutter open as the sun slightly grazes their eyelids, soon a sweet yawn behind it. Y/N smiled as her eyes adjusted finally and she got up slow, as there was her boyfriend sleeping soundly next to her. She smiled and kissed him on the cheek lightly slowly moving out the bed, not knowing he was silently counting down from 10 ever since she rose outta bed. He soon smirked counting at 1 and gets up in a swift movement grabbing her before she even touched the hardwood floor. “Papa no!” She squealed and soon was back in bed, her bonnet surprisingly still gripping her head while she was now locked in back in bed cuddled up against. “What’s the password?” He grumbled. “Let me go!” “Nah that’s not it.” He yawned and she looked away to dodge his morning breath scrunching up her nose some. “Papa please I have to do my skin routine!” She wiggled and whined but he had a good grip on her. “Bahhh you don’t have to, my babygirl is so perfect without it.” He whispered and kissed her cheek. She groaned soon getting tired from the moving around and was soon giving in, his warmth and his kisses were like a spell. Cody noticed and he smirked again, “But I’ll let you do your routine-“ he loosened his grip some and Y/N stayed where she was. “Nuuuuu!” She pouted. Cody smiled and held her close getting her comfortable. “10 more minutes with papa and we both get up ok?” She nodded and hid in the blankets more as he checked messages on his work phone.

After that, they both started to get ready for the day. Joint sink bathrooms, Y/N on her side had natural creams and most products of Cocoa butter scents. Leaving her skin smooth and sweet, glowing even. She checked her face for stray hairs and got on the counter for a closer look in the giant mirror. “Off the counter princess.” Cody warned. Sure it was strong marble but he didn’t want her getting hurt. Y/N rolled her eyes some and got down soon being given a face mirror. “You have so many mirrors baby use them.” He said going back to his skin routine. “But it’s different papa.” She pouted but used the mirror given to her anyway. After that she brushed her teeth and soon released her hair from her bonnet. She sighed knowing she really doesn’t feel like doing it, it was a lot to deal with. “Want papa to take you to your hair dresser? She wouldn’t mind a walk in.” Usually that means ‘give her a big tip outta my card’ so she doesn’t mind the walk in. “It’s ok baby, I’ll just moisturize it and put it in a ponytail.” She grumbled. Cody was already done and got the products out for her. “Can I help?” She can’t really get a good grip out of her hair so he’s her best bet. She nodded at his request as he was always so fascinated with her hair. She blushed as he ran his hands through her scalp with the moisturizer, and smiled as he was able to get a beautiful high ponytail. He brushed out her hair as she took some product making some cute curls on the side. “Rating?” “9.3.” his eyebrow arched in question but soon kissed her cheek. “Ok now a 10.” “That’s what I’m talking about.”

Breakfast came around and Y/N wasn’t hungry, but still needed something in her system. “Since you’re riding with papa, you know I eat first. So, chicken biscuits?” “I’m not in the mood for bread daddy..” she pouted not hungry at all. “Fruit bowl and I’ll stop at our coffee shop for your usual.” She smiled and nodded as she could deal with that, she sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen and watched as he pulled out fresh fruit getting it ready. He had a quick protein shake and soon both finished up their outfit getting out the door. But Cody glanced out the car first, his usual car was keyed and the tires flat. He groaned as he knew it was probably some kind of cute warning. But not to his work car. “Princess let’s go take the BMW.” He smiled as he shut the door and walked her to the garage. “Why not the other car daddy?” She pouted acting like she didn’t see the damage, Cody got the remote key and unlocked it. “I gotta get it fixed.” He smiled but really he was pissed. “Get yourself in, I have to make a call.” She nodded getting in as he opened the door for her and put her seatbelt on for her kissing her nose before closing the door. He sighed and controlled his anger, soon getting his phone and calling Jey his partner.

“You got Jey.” Jey answered as he was working on his car. “They touched my car, imma need you to pull camera when you get a chance.” “Got you, did she see?” “I don’t think so but she probably did. She’s smart.” He grumbled and leaned against the car. He doesn’t want Y/N to worry about this type of stuff, bad enough she knew. When they were in the first phase of dating, a good year in he hid his job well. But one night she wanted some snacks and stumbled upon a weapon wall. It was hard to calm her down and Cody thought he was gonna lose her, but she stuck by his side. She wants to be oblivious to his job but she knows. “Get here soon, I’m heading out now.” He sighed. “I got you uce.” They hung up and Cody got in letting Y/N start the car, she likes pressing the button. “Ok so after the coffee shop I’m just dropping out off to your nail shop, you text me when you’re done so I can pick you back up. Then a little shopping nothing big.” Y/N was listening but was more worried about the car she saw. Cody glanced at her then back at the road. “Papa doesn’t like that worried face, you ok baby?” She nodded. “You sure because I would hate to just head home after the nail tech-“ “Papa…” she looked at him with daggers. “Don’t look at me like that, what’s wrong?” “Why did they do that to your car?” Cody sighed. “Because they don’t like papa. But papa doesn’t care and when he finds out who did it, well we are gonna have to talk our feelings out.” Y/N nodded understanding. “I like you.” She giggled. “You don’t love me?” He gave a dramatic gasp and Y/N took it back quick having a laugh.

Throughout the day, the two would text each other. “Ok she’s starting my nails soon, what color papa?” She asked looking at the many colors in the guide. “Periwinkle.” He simply texted back honestly kidding but was wondering if they had that color. “Ok I’ll show you the finished product after! I love you!” She put her phone down and her tech started the process as they talked gossiping here and there. With Cody, he was looking back at camera footage Jey sent, seeing the masked assailant fucking up his car. He sighed and wanted him found because that was his favorite car. “Jey, anything else?” “It looked like he wanted to break in but he just left.” Jey said watching tapes back. “Yea he was smart as fuck that he just left.” Cody hissed some in anger. “I see a tattoo as well, it’s one of Roman’s boys.” Cody rolled his eyes. “Cute. He’s still mad about the last meeting we had. Find him.” His ordered and hung up loading his gun and putting it in the dashboard. He rode to one of Roman’s Chop shops and texted him. Soon Solo came out with him, he was in a tank top gloves on working. Seeing Cody he smirked and handed solo his gloves, walking to the car. “Cody. What brings you over on my side of town?” Roman was a man of business as well, Cody simply just gave him his phone showing pictures of the man’s exposed arms. “He fucked up my car and was thinking about breaking in my house.” Roman saw the tattoo. “It looks like one of my boys but i cut him loose a while back I think this is one that’s wanted and I’m looking for him too.” He grumbled. “Lemme know if you see him.” He gave the phone back to Cody. “You won’t protect him?” “He’s on my shit list he was trying to touch my girl.” He sighed. Cody looked behind Roman some seeing a girl handing out bottles of water for the guys to take a break. “Dasha? Making a pass at her? I’m surprised he’s not dead.” “She told me last minute. She broke down and was scared to tell me.” Even though most of the time these two don’t get along, they understand protecting what’s theirs. “I’ll let you know if he comes back around.” Cody saids and Roman nods patting the roof going back in the shop. He smiled at Dasha as she handed him a bottle as well, he smiled and kissed her forehead in thanks. She waved bye at Cody and he nodded driving off. Soon he got a text from Y/N, her nails were done. Seeing the picture of beautiful almond cute periwinkle nails, Cody loved them. He sent some hearts along with “I’ll be there soon.” But soon he saw a text that made his heart drop,

“Papa your friend just picked me up.”

Cody soon started to book it and track Y/N trying to know her exact location. He practiced this with her, making sure if this happened she would stay calm and act like nothing is wrong. “Princess, remember I love you. 5 minutes.” She read the text and looked at the driver some. She sighed keeping calm and smiled. “Could we turn on some music?” She asked. “Sure.” The dude smiled and turned on the radio. Yea, this was definitely not one of his men. They offer her bluetooth. She reached in her purse slow outta his view, and at a stop sign, she pulled out a knife cutting the side of his neck. He screamed at the top of his lungs, she got out the car and booked it for the nearest police station in town. The officer at the front desk looked at her seeing blood on her hand and face, lucky Cody paid of the police department. “Where’s Rhodes?” The policemen said. “Text him I’m here and let me hide in the booth.” Y/N instructed. The cop nodded and did so as she sat on the floor cleaning herself off. There were cops responding to the man she stabbed since he stopped in the middle of the road and caused a wreck. She sat on the floor getting her thoughts together. ‘Why am I always in some shit…’ she groaned.

Cody busted in the police station and looked in the booth dropping on his knees and hugging Y/N close. “You’re late.” She hissed and got up angry at the fact she has some man’s blood in his hair and stained in her nails. “I’m so sorry.” Cody sighed and held her so close embracing her. Soon regressing back, away from her anger filled automatic personality, she whimpered and started to cry. She was about to get kidnapped. “I know baby, I’m sorry papa wasn’t there.” He could tell the difference. Y/N shook in his arms and he simply picked her up and walked her out saying thank you to the police men.

At home, she sat in bed under blankets trying to relax. She was about to be taken away and if it succeeded what would have happened. She heard a knock on the door flinching slightly and peeked seeing it was Cody again. Coming up with some water and sitting by her. “You look cold.” He simply said. He got behind her in the bed and held her close. “Papa…he was gonna take me away…” she whimpered. “No he wasn’t.” She looked up seeing that Cody had some dried tears as well. “No one was gonna take you from me. Papa got to you. Papa got you home safe as sound. I promised at that the first time we met right?” She nodded looking out the window. “What if they come back for me again?” “I’ll kill them princess. You did such a good job defending yourself. But papa protects you. No matter what.” He said as he held her close. She enjoyed his embrace and felt a simple kiss on the lips. “Thank you Cody…” she mumbled and stayed in his arms as he rocked her back and forth. Cody was in anger, it might not be now but when the time is right he will find out who is behind this sending men to his home and trying to patience and bothering his peace…

[cyberr-v0id]

Some people are so insufferable about maths.

I don’t mean like, treating it like it’s amazing and can do wonderful stuff, because you know what? It can do wonderful things when used properly!

I mean how I’ll be talking about how I can’t do maths, and someone who is way better than me and can do maths will be like ‘noooo!!!!! Don’t say thatttt! You’re great at maths!’

Or I’ll mention something like ‘I literally cannot do maths, I just wrote the decision symbol instead of the equals sign, and I’m not even doing a maths problem 😭’

And someone will say ‘uh, you do know that actually has nothing to do with your ability to do maths, right?’

WRONG AGAIN MATEY. If I am unable to distinguish between mathematical symbols when even writing them out for shorthand in a sentence, how, pray tell, am I supposed to be able to use them properly in an equation? How am I supposed to read when the question wants me to do and to properly do that?

Another thing I’ve had people say to me is along the lines of ‘I don’t think that anyone’s actually bad at maths, just that some people aren’t good at teaching it’

Hmm, yes, ok, see I’ve had- and forgive me if this is wrong, I’m not the best at counting- over eight teachers since being at this school, and I still can’t do maths. I had to teach myself ratio over the holidays.

The other day I had a maths exam. Real important one, fate of my future depends on it etc. I can’t get a proper good grade on it anyways because of how the system works, I can only get up to a five, so that’s two pass grades possible four fail grades. During the exam I had to keep restarting my questions because I had read the numbers in the wrong order (eg 16937 would become 19673) or written my numbers the wrong way around (eg 4 facing the wrong way)

I told my mother about it and how this has always happened and she, a psychotherapist who’s job entails recognising neurodivergencies in children, got upset that I hadn’t said anything to her before, because I could have dyscalculia and if she had known then she could have applied for support. But see, I had spoken to someone about it before- my maths teacher! Who should have been the perfect person to deal with this, if she hadn’t brushed it over like almost everyone else

You know what is also a symptom of dyscalculia? Not being able to distinguish between mathematical symbols!

So, to conclude:

Yes maths is great and can be really useful

Not being able to distinguish maths signs (➕➖➗✖️🟰 etc) actually has a big effect on one’s ability to do maths

Some people actually are just bad at maths, and your attempts at trying to convince them that they actually are good helps no one and just makes you seem like a privileged son of a salt biscuit

Not being able to read numbers in the correct order or right them the correct way round is also an issue with doing maths

Mathematical dyslexia aka dyscalculia effects a persons ability to: do maths, identify maths symbols, and read numbers in the correct order, as well as struggling to count

[gregorovitch-adler]

Chair

This is it. It is John's wedding day. After tonight, things would change for good. Not that they ever were the same as soon as I came back after my fake death, but society says a wedding makes everything official.

I would never see him wake up and come down from the bedroom upstairs as I play my violin by the window. Never hear his voice around me in this house, never get to laugh at his whimsical typing habit. Never get to find an excuse to invade his personal space.

How would I? He no longer lives here, and he would never visit as often as he was able to when I was planning his wedding.

The thought is unbearable. I exhale and shake my head as I try to think of something else - though Mrs Hudson being here, sitting on John's chair out of all places, and rambling about her married life when no one even asked doesn't help.

"My best friend, Margaret – she was my chief bridesmaid."

I roll my eyes and put my cup and saucer on the side table.

"We were going to be best friends forever, we always said that; but I hardly saw her after that."

For God's sake, stop rubbing it in! "Aren’t there usually biscuits?" I ask instead.

"I’ve run out."

"Have the shops?" I stand up and glance at the door pointedly. Anything to be away from human contact in any way, shape, or form for a few minutes.

But she continues her sob story anyway. "She cried the whole day, saying, 'Ooh, it’s the end of an era.'"

"I’m sure the shop on the corner is open," I say with a tight smile.

"She was probably right, really."

I close my eyes and wish I could be invisible.

"I remember she left early. I mean, who leaves a wedding early?" She shakes her head. "So sad."

Probably she was in love with you like I am with John. Ever considered that? I obviously don't say it out loud.

Though I've always thought marrying the head of an incredibly famous cartel in America was a rather stupid thing to do on Mrs Hudson's part.

Not that it matters now.

"Anyway, you’ve got things to do." So much filtering I have to do for every damn human interaction. Would rather be alone.

No, that's not quite true: would rather be alone with John, but he doesn't want the same thing. Certainly not. Gotta distract my mind again.

"No, not really. I’ve got plenty of time to -"

"Biscuits," I cut her off. She finally gets up from that chair and walks to the door of the flat.

"I really am going to have a word with your mother."

"You can if you like. She understands very little." Positively nothing about my sentiments.

I close the door on her - John would've given me an earful if he were here (not again!) - and turn around. I let out a sigh and turn to look at the chair Mrs Hudson just emptied.

John's armchair. My John - at least in my mind.

Once upon a time, I'd had a feeling that there was a slight probability that he felt the same way. Clearly, I was proven wrong when I saw him with Mary that night.

Even more so when he continued to be engaged to her, after having forgiven me for faking my death - at least on the surface.

Perhaps it was a miscalculation on my part. He never felt the same and never will. He's in love with Mary.

I can do nothing but be civil with her and respect John's choice.

However, as I stare at John's chair in this flat, I feel as if a piece of John himself is still here with me.

I have to be at the wedding hall in an hour, being the best man of the wedding, so I force myself to not become one with that chair.

I turn around to make my way to my bedroom to get dressed.

Into Battle.

***

Prompt Chair by @onesmallfamily

Tags: @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @gaylilsherlock @lookingforlifeoutthere @peanitbear @a-victorian-girl @calaisreno @curlyjohnlock @missdeliadili @kettykika78 .