#anyway. i’m not even good at making biscuits and i can still make good biscuits with whatever fucking flour is on hand
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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
#kit talks#but it’s SO HARD and if i has even a little more energy and less self doubt i’d Engage#‘you have to use this one brand of flour to make true american southern biscuits’ BITCH the fuck you do!!!#i haven’t bouing white lily flour my entire adult life and i can make great biscuits#the fuck are you talking about fucking one brand of flour and gluten content and shit#see? this is pointless to be annoyed about. i must not engage.#but THEYRE SO WRONG AND IT HURTS#anyway. i’m not even good at making biscuits and i can still make good biscuits with whatever fucking flour is on hand#king arthur flour is the best anyway#and my sister can make awesome biscuits again with not white lily flour. so piss off. ok NOW i’m done
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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.
#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#lando norris x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fanfic
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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.
#the band ghost#ghost band#rabrev writing#ficlet#phantom ghoul#aether ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#nameless ghouls#cw implied abuse#cw implied sa#albus talk
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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
#Bruce Wayne x Reader#Bruce Wayne x You#Bruce Wayne/Reader#Bruce Wayne/You#Bruce Wayne imagine#The Other Half
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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.
#one too many#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#mom!wanda#mom!wanda x reader#wanda maximoff fluff#fluff#drabble
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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.
#anthony lockwood#anthony lockwood x reader#lockwood and co#lockwood and co x reader#lockwood & co#lockwood & co x reader#advent calender blurbs
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Kitty Elliot AU #5
Masterpost
Previous
Next
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.
taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em
@thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings
@zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285 @whumpzone
@snakebites-and-ink @astrokea @latenightcupsofcoffee @tobiaslut @whumpsoda
@loserwithsyle @bitchaknso @taterswhump @fleur-a-whump @otterfrost
@hellodecisionparalysis @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @risk606 @i-walk-on-the-dark-side @phoenixpromptsandstuff
#hes just a lil guy. baby#my writing#slavery whump#whump#ambrose and elliot#catboy whumpee#silent whumpee#pet whump#Kitty Elliot AU
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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
#jensen ackles imagine#jensen ackles fic#jensen ackles x y/n#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles#supernatural imagine#supernatural fic
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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.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland x y/n#twst x reader#leona#leona kingscholar#x reader#x y/n#overblot#overblot leona x reader#yandere#lost book#ink-stained love is not ideal
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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…
#wwe imagine#wwe one shot#wwe smackdown#wwe raw#age regression#agere headcanons#cody rhodes fanfiction#cody rhodes
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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
#cyberr speaks#vent#maths#maths vent#maths is cool I just suck at it#bad at maths#mathematics#mathblr#math#i hate maths#gcse maths#dyscalculia#probably dyscalculic#bitter water
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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 .
#johnlock#bbc sherlock#john watson#sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes/john watson#sherlock x john#sherlockian#sherlock headcanon#ficlet#new ficlet#30 days of sherlock september 2023#angst#pining sherlock holmes#canon compliant#s3 e2 The Sign of Three#pov: sherlock holmes#first person#present tense#fic writing
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Hi there!!! May I know your take on this? Which member do you think would be most likely to like having their s/o in the studio with them when working? This just randomly came to mind one day when I realised I could lowkey spend the whole day watching them work 🫢 So there's that..✌️
bc if you think about it we really be watching the tannies do nothing and be absolutely enthralled like in the soop love that and half the time they just be napping soskskks we literally did watch jk sleep on live for like 20 minutes before a staff finally cut the cameras 💀 but there really is something extra fascinating about watching them work like just that one lil 30 minute part of the recording the in the soop theme song i’ve watched that section by itself probably like 8 times and then there’s that one idk if it’s a bangtan bomb or an episode but the clip of rap line like editing ddaeng boooiiiii butters my biscuits like nothing else anyway now that i’ve rambled on for far too long this what i think
tae’s giving the one that would like it the most but like you not just gonna be sitting there you’re gonna end up working too 💀 like he’s bouncing ideas off of you asking you if what he recorded sounds good if you were listening to a song would you like this part if it was like this or like that like you’d be inclined to ask for composition credits messing around wit tae in the studio
yoongi wouldn’t mind at all seeing as half the time he’s in the studio he’s not even working just waiting for inspiration to strike and what are you if not his greatest muse so ofc you’re always welcome your presence is comforting to him and honestly some of y’all best times is cuddled up on that couch his head resting on your shoulder while you just talk and joke around about nothing and everything
joonie likes it too like he just likes being around you all the time you’re very grounding and comforting to him i think he can actually work perfectly around you so if you told him you wanted to tagalong it would be no problem like he’d be at his desk looking at his monitor tip typing away he checks on you periodically makes sure you’re okay gets you both water orders food in and you sit next to each other practically conjoined at the hip when you eat and then he leaves you wit a little kith and goes to work some more maybe shows you what he’s doing and how if you pop over his shoulder for some attention and when he’s done for the day he takes your small hand into his big one and y’all go home together and talk and kiss and cuddle some more 🥰
jk is obviously okay with you being in the studio like he let us in on his birthday that one year idk if it was 2021 or 2022 time is a social construct and my life is turning into one gigantic blur but whenever he made the my you song you know what i’m talking about anyway he’s fine with you being there bc he spends 75% of his time new boot goofin impersonating people doing riffs and runs just trying things out when he gets serious tho he still doesn’t mind you in there but you gotta be on your best behavior his focus don’t last long and if you compliment him his ears will turn red
i think jimin would let you but only on his terms like he don’t wanna show you anything too raw only wants you to see his best or as close to best as it can get before he sends his work off to others for the final touches like he’d let you listen to stuff that’s basically finished or if he had more administrative tasks to care for then probably but he’d be rushing through it bc he doesn’t want to bore you so watching him record and make melodies and all that it’s probably a no for the most part :3
seokjin probably likes to have a separation between his work and private life like y’all can’t be together too too much or you probably gonna get on each other nerves distance makes the heart grow fonder and so on and so forth also i think he does music with a certain level of vulnerability and he needs to process that alone before inviting anyone else in of course you’re one of the first ones he shows no doubt no doubt but i feel like you won’t be much privy to the inner machinations of his process like he’ll show you what he does but not when he doing it 💀
i’m sorry but hobi is giving hard no like when he works he works like he is stressing antagonizing pushing himself to his limits and his boundaries he’s on a self imposed deadline that he will make and cannot tolerate any distractions whatsoever like it’s all good when he’s off work and he’s happy to destress after work with you but you is not getting in that studio when hobi is making magic you’ll just have to watch the documentary like everyone else <\3
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Biscuits with the Bisexuals (plus Trent)
Day five of the Advent calendar! Using this list. Day 5: Holiday Baking. Fandom: Ted Lasso - Pairing: TedTrent & RoyJamie .7k[Ao3]
“It’s real nice for you to let us use your kitchen, Roy.”
Jamie heard Roy grunt as he led their guests into the kitchen. Ted Lasso’s smiling face appeared through the entryway, his wide American eyes staring unashamedly around Roy’s house. Trent Crimm followed with only fractionally less obvious curiosity.
“He’s letting you use his kitchen, darling,” Trent told Ted, pulling himself onto a barstool at the island. “I’m here to look pretty and heckle.”
“Oh, mint, me too!” Jamie said, hopping up next to him. “I usually sit on the counter, though.”
“Keep your arse off my counters,” Roy glared but Jamie just grinned back, sunnily. He huffed a breath, hiding his own smile (but Jamie still saw it. He always saw it.) before turning back to Ted. “And I’m not letting you use my kitchen, I’m putting you to work.”
Ted nodded, affably. “Well point the way and I’ll make like Riri, Roy-Roy.”
“No,” Roy said.
Jamie rolled his eyes, turning to Trent. “He’s just grumpy because he was left out of his family text thread on who was bringing what to the family biscuit exchange.”
“Biscuits aren’t even a Hanukkah tradition!” Roy shouted. “Fucking Christians, ruining everything.”
“He has to blame the Christians because it was Phoebe’s idea but he can’t ever blame Phoebe for anything.”
“The Christians got to her! She’s an impressionable child! Not her fault.”
Jamie gestured at Roy as if to say ‘see?’. Trent snorted.
“Well if you don’t wanna do cookies why are you so steamed you weren’t in the group chat?”
Roy grunted, turning away from them to bring out the stand mixer.
“He’s mad because it was only women in the group chat.” Jamie told them. “HIs sister Ruth was the one who told him about it, all confused because she doesn’t cook or nothing. Roy then made a big stink about gender essentialism and how he should have been given the option to contribute, even if he thinks a biscuit exchange is dumb.”
“It is dumb,” Roy grumbled, pulling our various measuring bowls.
“I know, babe,” Jamie told him, giving him a sympathetic put he couldn’t see. Trent snickered into his hand.
“Well, hey, Roy, that’s great! Standing up for gender equality.” Ted said, grinning. “You’re like that tall fella from High School Musical who wants to bake and play basketball. You won’t stick to this status quo.”
Jamie snorted. “Except Roy can’t bake. He’s dead good at cooking and that but he can’t make a biscuit for love or honey.”
“It’s love or money you twat.”
“Oi, is that any way to speak to your honey?”
Roy growled. Jamie winked at him.
“Well, Roy, I am happy to lend my expertise,” Ted chimed in. “Might be fun to coach on you something I actually know something about. Switch it up.”
Roy snorted but his mouth tilted into an almost smile which cheered everyone up.
Jamie leaned over the island. “Get us some tea, Roy?”
“Get it yourself,” Roy said but started the kettle himself anyway.
“So what are you baking biscuits for, Coach?” Jamie asked, crossing his arms on the counter.
“Well, Rebecca has praised me a bit too much in front of the rest of Nelson Road “ Ted winced. “So I’m making a super batch so everyone can get some. Little too much for my tiny kitchen.”
Jamie hummed. “Roy, can I try some of Coach’s biscuits?”
“No.”
Jamie whined. “Just one! While he’s here! If everyone’s gonna be talking about how lush they are, I wanna know how lush they are. Even if I can’t have more than one.”
“We can make him do squats to work it off,” Trent reasoned.
Roy snorted. “You know nothing about nutrition or fitness plans for athletes, Crimm. He’d do cardio, not muscle training.”
“Jumping jacks, then.” Trent shrugged. “I’m not picky.”
“You’re a freak, Crimm,” Roy told him, but he didn’t sound unhappy about it.
Ted and Jamie laughed.
“Well let’s get bakin’, Clay Aiken!’
“Perfect appropriate queer reference, Ted,”
“Thanks, sweetheart,”
“You’re insufferable.” Roy told them.
“So are we, though!” Jamie responded cheerfully.
“Do you think the oven’s preheated enough for me to put my head in?” Roy asked.
“Are you a biscuit?” Trent asked.
“More of a tart,” Jamie responded.
“No, Jamie, you’re the Tartt.”
“This was a mistake.” Roy said.
They made 12 dozen biscuits.
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Read on AO3
I was a little delayed in posting this what with the Fourth of July and flying back home, but Raw, Real, Red is finally here! Hope you all enjoy it 🥰
Eilidh Hamilton to Victoria and James Hamilton
15 December 1940
Dear Mum and Dad,
We had a good day today. Granny seemed in good spirits, so we went to a fundraising concert at the Byre for the Bute and St Mary’s. When we arrived, the students were playing a lovely rendition of some piece by Purcell—I forget which one now, since I lost the programme on the walk back home. But then they put on a nice production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Granny liked it too, I was surprised that she kept talking about it after the performance. She’s gone to bed now, but since she was feeling so chipper, tomorrow I’ll ask her about it again over breakfast. I’ll see if she wants to walk to the beach as well. It’ll be windy but if she can stand it until the sunset, it should be beautiful. I so often think how lucky we are to have such gorgeous sunsets, even though there is so much else happening.
There are quite a few children in town now. Most of them seem to be from Edinburgh and Glasgow. I see them when I go into town; they’re amusing little creatures. I saw one boy playing in the ruins so I told him a little about the cathedral and talked to him for a while. I thought he wasn’t listening to me because he kept asking me to repeat things but then he just said he was trying to figure out where my accent was from. I guess even in war some things don’t change.
I’ll write Will separately, but give him my best. Do I tire you out if I ask again that you send him up here? I really don’t care if you have to haul him by the ear onto the train, but I really think it would be better. I’ll even put up with having to do his laundry at Granny’s if I have to.
If I don’t have time to write again before Christmas, Happy Christmas to everyone. We will have a quiet night, of course, but I managed to save enough ingredients to make biscuits, so that will be our indulgence for the holiday. Granny and I are planning to be at the service at Sallie’s on Christmas Eve. If it’s anything like the one last year, I’m sure it will be very enjoyable. You know how dear the Reverend is.
All my love,
Your daughter,
Eilidh x
Eilidh Hamilton to William Hamilton
15 December 1940
Dear Will,
Well, brother of mine, have you decided to join me in the north yet? I know you are tired of me badgering you, but I won’t stop until you’re here. Anyway, write me when you have your tickets. We’ll be at the train station ready to pick you up.
It's been very cold recently, so we're wearing quite a lot of layers every day, then we can save on fuel too. I found some of your winter clothes in your room when I was tidying the other day. I'm surprised all of it is still in good condition. Do you want me to send you any of it? They seem like they might be too small for you now, though, how much have you grown since you were last here? Seems like a waste that it's just sitting in a trunk, or maybe you'd like to donate some of them. I told Mum and Dad, there are a lot of children who evacuated here so I'm sure the church ladies I see every week would be able to arrange something if you are not opposed to it.
I don’t know if you were told, but I mailed Christmas presents at the end of November. I expect they have arrived. They’re in red wrapping paper, yours have the green ribbon. Don’t you dare bin that ribbon either, after Christmas. The spool cost a lot more than I would have liked—practically highway robbery, and this was before the war too. So I expect you to pack it in your luggage when you come.
Granny and I shall be thinking of you all Christmas morning and make a grand time of it. I hope you have a good holiday with Mum and Dad as well. We miss you dreadfully.
Eilidh
William Hamilton to Eilidh Hamilton
1 January 1941
Sis,
You really should stop wasting all your paper and ink on begging me to do something I will not. When it’s safe and the Luftwaffe quit trying to blast us off the face of the earth, you’ll have to come to the factory and see for yourself all the good work we’re doing. I’m with a bunch of nice lads. You might even like them. Who knows, maybe one of them will end up fancying you back and you’ll get to go on a date for once. It is the new year, after all. Time to try new things, like seeing someone. Or leaving your brother’s choices alone.
I expect Mum and Dad will fill you in on the details of the latest raid, so I won’t add any lines on that front, other than to say that I am more determined than ever to do my part.
In regards to my old clothes, you are welcome to give away the shoes, mittens, trousers, hats, etc. to charity so some other worthy young boy in town can use them. Mum has requested that you hold on to the jumpers and shirts and such, though, as she is very fond of them. Those can just stay with Gran for now, no need to ship them.
We did the best we could to have a nice holiday at home, despite everything. No crackers again like last time, but we cut some crowns out of the papers and wore those instead and saved spots for you and Gran at the table. Were you able to listen to the King’s address? I thought the radio was going to spontaneously combust when we were last at Gran’s and I tried to plug it in, so I do hope you’ve managed to fix it. Personally, I liked the speech, but not as much as Mum. She probably won’t mention this (so don’t tell I her I let it slip) but she bawled like a baby.
Must conclude now, I have an early shift tomorrow and the beds in the shelter are not the best so my back has been killing me. I feel like I’m as old as you are. Love to you and Gran, regards to all our friends.
Will x
Victoria and James Hamilton to Eilidh Hamilton
[In Victoria Hamilton’s hand]: 2 January 1941
Happy New Year to our most beloved daughter!
We dearly hope that it was better than ours, as we are still licking our wounds from the attack that rang in the new year. The fires have been more intense than usual, especially because the fire brigade has had trouble with pumping enough water and with enough pressure and so on. Some of the fires spread to St Paul’s; you’ve probably seen the picture already. It’s quite extraordinary. Churchill is adamant that it will be saved. We are working around the clock at the hospital, the same as usual, so we’re all quite exhausted. However, knowing that you are a little more safe is a relief.
We hope you had a most happy Christmas with Granny. Apologies we did not have time to write before the holiday, but your presents arrived safe and sound. I’m not sure which book I will start with first, but I like the sound of the Fitzgerald one. [In James Hamilton’s hand]: Grandpa’s old pen was gorgeous as well.
[In Victoria Hamilton’s hand]: By the way, what did you tell Will? He was scrambling after all of the paper and ribbon after we had opened everything and stowed it away in his drawer like a squirrel hoarding for the winter. Please try to keep in mind he is disorganised enough as it is; we don’t need him acquiring anything more that he can’t keep track of.
Your loving parents,
Mum and [In James Hamilton’s hand]: Dad
Victoria Hamilton to Eilidh Hamilton
14 January 1941
Eilidh,
Excuse the sloppiness of this letter, as well as the tardiness. You probably heard about the raid from a few nights ago. It was another exceptionally heavy attack this time, so there hasn’t been been much time to sit for even a couple seconds to let you know that we are all right. You must have been so worried. I’m so sorry we couldn’t write sooner.
We are still lucky. The hospital remains standing, and your father and I are working away. Will’s factory is also still on its feet, and he was back in the shop as soon as he was sure it was all over. He’s been sleeping there since, so we haven’t seen in him in a few days but he should be back for the weekend to help with some cleanup around the city.
Shall write again when things have settled a bit more. Remember that we are well. Please make sure anyone in St A who is worried receives the news as well.
Mum xx
Eilidh Hamilton to Victoria and James Hamilton
25 January 1941
Dear Mum and Dad,
I can’t tell you how relieved I was to receive your last from the fourteenth of this month. Granny and I have listening to an awful lot of radio these past few weeks. Knowing you are all right will make our Burns supper taste even better. In celebration, I shall be extra dramatic when addressing the haggis. I don’t know if you will have the means to mark the occasion, but I hope that you have a nice night anyway, as nice as it can be given the circumstances. I’m sure Rabbie would understand.
I wish you could have been here today. All afternoon there were great big clouds gathering, dark gray ones, and there was practically no colour in the sky when the sun went down so I knew there would be a terrific storm blowing in soon. It’s raining very heavily at the moment—I can hear it going on the roof—and the wind is coming off of the sea something terrible. I shall savour the cosiness, however.
Letter for Will is attached, would appreciate you passing it along to him.
Love,
Eilidh x
Eilidh Hamilton to William Hamilton
25 January 1941
Dear Will,
Mum wrote me about the latest air raid. I’m glad you’re safe. I know what you’re thinking, that I’m going to go on with my normal spiel, but I’ll spare you for once. Just wanted to say that I’m proud to hear that you were back at your job so soon after it happened. And before you get any ideas in your head, this isn’t me admitting defeat! I still think you’re cracked, let’s be clear on that. But I guess if you’re going to be cracked, you’ve chosen a good reason to be so.
Love from your old sis,
E
William Hamilton to Eilidh Hamilton
10 February 1941
Eilidh,
Well I’ll be, sis. Thank you for your most gracious line from last month. You write very prettily, I will admit, sis, but don’t fool yourself! I’ll consider this a win, whatever you say. But rest assured, I shall keep this between us. Mum and Dad need not know of what you’ve confessed. I do look forward, however, to the next time I see you so you can express such lovely sentiments to me in person. I’m sure you’d agree any refusal to do so would be discourteous and unbecoming indeed.
Will
James Hamilton to Eilidh Hamilton
28 March 1941
Dearest Eilidh,
Mum is just back from her shift at the hospital and was practically sleepwalking when she came in, so you’ll have to put up with my lousy handwriting for this letter. I shall have to leave soon myself, but I’ll try to make sure to not miss anything in this letter. Have you received the one we wrote a week ago? There wasn’t much in it. We might have not sent it at all since it was before your last arrived, but we wanted to make sure to update you.
We’ve had a rough few days here. I don’t think there’s much point in describing it to you since you would have seen the reports and pictures in the newspapers. The important thing is that we’re all okay. Spirits can be low sometimes but we are holding it together. Will is doing a marvelous job, we wish you could see him. We know your feelings haven’t changed but he’s happy being here.
Mum and I are concerned with how you are holding up. You must tell Mum or me if you are struggling. I know you are taking part in all of the volunteer efforts in town as well, so don’t be afraid to speak with the others who are helping.
Love,
Dad
Eilidh Hamilton to William Hamilton
31 March 1941
Dear Will,
Happy birthday! It’s a bit frightening thinking of you as sixteen years old, but I suppose we all grow up. You are so close to being old. As much as I hate to admit it (older sisterly grudges and all), you’ve certainly done a lot of growing up recently. Maybe too much, if I’m honest. When this is all over, I hope you have some time to just be a lad again because you’ve earned it.
I sent your present two weeks ago. You don’t have to keep the ribbon this time.
E x
William Hamilton to Eilidh Hamilton
12 April 1941
Eilidh,
Sorry for the late response after you wrote for my birthday—your words are much appreciated. Thanks also for the scarf. It must have been Dad who told you I lost my other one right? I don’t think I ever told Mum about that. (So don’t you ever tell her either, is what I mean, sis.) Anyway, I’m already making good use of it, so thank you.
I have to end now since the postman is coming soon, but I’ll be more extensive in my next—too much to write at this moment. Love to Gran and all.
Will x
18 April 1941
POST OFFICE
TELEGRAM
Time handed in: 12.12
Office of Origin and Instructions: LONDON TELEX OHMS
Words: 23
HEAVY BOMBING LAST NIGHT STOP TERRIBLE NEWS STOP WILL’S FACTORY HIT STOP WE FEAR THE WORST STOP MORE WORD TO COME SOON STOP
For free repetition of doubtful words telephone “TELEGRAMS ENQUIRY” or call, with this form at office of delivery. Other enquires should be accompanied by this form, and, if possible, the envelope.
#masters of the air#mota#masters of the air fic#mota fic#jack kidd#jack kidd x oc#masters of the air oc#mota oc#my writing#rrr
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Shark, it's the 10th anniversary of Peaky today (12 Sept) and I was hoping you'd share the top 10 things you (or Heaven 😇) adore about Arthur!
Oh Lee!! Thank you for the question and Happy 10th year anniversary to Peaky Blinders! 🤭🖤 I’ll go with my own ten favorite things — and Heaven will probably agree with me anyway! 🙃
1. I particularly love Arthur’s eyes. They have such a beautiful color, adorable shape and… The fuck he has does lashes? They got me WEAK. Like, I don’t know if I’m the only one who has noticed it but he has the prettiest lashes. Moreover, his eyes are overall super soft and expressive.
2. The freckles. I nearly died at the bathroom scene because of how many freckles he has and how stunning they make him look. They are like… Hundreds of constellations on his skin.
3. This one is weird ‘cause that’s not the body type I look for in a man but… God I love that lanky, super slim silhouette of his. He’s all legs and arms I swear. Aesthetically speaking, it enhances the character’s “weird”/ “threatening” vibes. And it makes him look adorably funny when he is in a car. ( @dearshelby will agree with me on this one 😬)
4. His voice. The gravel, loud voice does things to me each time I watch Peaky. Especially when he’s talking lower or when he whispers. Related to this, his low growls, grunts and “hmm” are hot as fuck. Pretty sure they have the power to disintegrate my clothes 🤣
5. The unhinged, ultra violent and slightly psychotic aspect of the character is the first thing that drew me. Like my fav characters of all times are Vaas from Far Cry, and Jinx from Riot Games. It has always been my favorite types, so I quite naturally fell for him because of this first. Put a crazy, unpredictable and traumatized character and you’ll summon a Shark.
6. The love he has for his family. Despite everything, Arthur is the only one in the family who said “I love you” several times to his bro/sis and the one who’s not afraid of showing affection. Even completely high in S6 he still quickly plays with the kids and say “I love you Ada”. He is also the one who never got over John's death.
7. The moment I truly fell for Arthur was after his suicide attempt though. Which leads us to this sixth feature: His vulnerability. The stark contrast between the rabid dog and the broken, sad, humiliated and fragile man made me melt. Not only it made me melt but I think it’s one of the strength of the character on top of being quite original: No one can hate Arthur despite the awful things he does. It’s even a bit frightening when we think about it.
7. Overall he’s fun and the “annoying and problematic oldest brother” vibes are strong with him. The banter with his brothers never fails to warm my heart.
8. He is into boxing? Please the skipping rope scene almost killed me, I had to dive into a pool of holy water to cleanse my soul from the obscene thoughts I had.
9. Addictions and that stupid cheating scene in the Russian orgy aside, he’s the gentlest Shelby husband. It’s undeniable: he’s the most enamored of all the brothers. When he falls in love, he falls hard and loves you until death. He has so many sweet moments with Linda. Even in S5, just before the meeting with the Shelby women, he takes a quick bite at the biscuits his wife made, turned to her and say “oh that’s good”. He is just incredibly caring.
10. How could I finish this list without mentioning his AWESOME mustache? Yes, I said it, the mustache looks super hot on him and I don’t want to hear otherwise. I just want to kiss it and also feel it against my skin. 🥺
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