#i might finish that one still we’ll see

[nanenna]

Warning: Implied bodily mutilation.

Okay, so remember how this prompt started and why Danny's dissociating hard enough he's in the next universe over? Kon gets a sudden, visceral reminder. UwU (Nothing graphic, all implied. This time)

-----

It was nice having all of Just Us together again, even if it was only for a pre-mission information gathering meeting. After contacting Wonder Woman about it this was now official League business, specifically JLD business. So here he, Tim, Cassie, and Bart were, sitting in one of the meeting rooms on the Watchtower across the table from Wonder Woman and John Constantine. Tim had a presentation all ready to go, including Danny’s drawings and one blurry photo he somehow managed to get of the boy, as he explained everything they knew so far.

“It does seem this boy is from an alternate universe,” Diana agreed as she looked at the star chart Danny had drawn compared to their own. It seemed about half the stars Danny had drawn were a match.

“And even if not, I can’t help search for him with this,” Tim said.

Diana looked over to Constantine.

“I would need to get a read on him, preferably after I get some supplies and get everything set up.”

Kon sighed, “I’ll talk to Ma and Pa. Promise you won’t do any damage to the house.”

Constantine held his hands up, “I’ll clean up after myself.”

“I’ll put together a rescue team,” Diana said.

Kon and his friends all frowned, “We’re already a team.”

“Kon will need to go since Danny already knows him,” Cassie pointed out. “And since we’re already a team we work best with each other.”

Diana nodded, “Alright, I and John will come with you as back up and to make sure we can make it home. We’ll make arrangements to get his supplies, in the mean time I think it’s best you start introducing Danny to others. Ma and Pa at the least.”

Kon nodded, “Sure, I can do that.” He stood up, since it sounded like the meeting was over.

“Before you lot go running off,” Constantine interrupted, “just wanna say not everything from Earth is human.”

Kon sat back down.

“You mean like us?” Cassie asked with a confused frown.

“Yes and no. There’s Amazons and Atlanteans, sure. But there’s also the Tuatha Dé Danann, Hulder, Vila, Kami, whatever you wanna call them.”

Kon had no idea what Constantine was talking about, he looked over to Tim. “The fair folk, or fairies. Like Morgaine le Fey.”

Kon nodded, he had some idea what Constantine meant now.

“Dream walking isn’t something many humans can do.”

Kon remembered something he hadn’t paid much attention to earlier. “Danny called me Nocturn, the Ancient of dreams. He thinks this is all a dream, I don’t think he even knows he’s astral projecting.”

“Right, so he could be fae and knows it, he could be fae and not know it, or he could be a human who managed to make friends with something that sounds like a fae lord. And depending on what it is it changes the rules of hospitality, so be careful about that.”

Tim sighed, “I’ll give them all the fae crash course.”

“The Bat is surprisingly correct and thorough on that.” Constantine sighed, then looked towards Kon. “Look, mate, I know you won’t like this but it might be best to let him think he’s still dreaming for now, just until we get him out of whatever situation is so bad it has him dissociating into the next universe.”

He was right, Kon didn’t like it.

✧✦✧

It had only been a day, Kon wasn’t expecting to see Danny again so soon. At first there had been a whole week between the first and second sighting, but they had been getting closer and closer together over the last couple weeks. Kon wasn’t sure if that meant he just didn’t always run into Danny or if he was actually astral projecting more often. But he hadn’t seen Danny two days in a row yet.

Except now he had.

Kon had finished explaining the whole situation to Ma and Pa, had helped them pick out which room in the big old farmhouse they would let Constantine borrow, and promised to introduce them to Danny the next he saw him. He’d previously told them about him so they could keep an eye out for him, but it seemed they hadn’t seen him yet. Kon was just heading out to the barn for evening chores when he saw a misty figure out in one of the fields. Kon had almost missed them, due to how misty the fields were with rain coming down, but he stopped and squinted and yeah, that was Danny.

“Hello,” Kon greeted as he approached.

Danny didn’t look over, keeping his face turned up and eyes closed. “I can almost feel it.” The rain was going right through him, leaving misty trails in his translucent body.

“At least you don’t have to worry about getting wet.”

“I miss it.”

That’s it, just miss it, not even a comment about how he wants to go stand in the rain when he’s awake.

“Would you like to come inside? Meet my Ma and Pa? I’ve told them about you.”

Danny did blink, looking over at Kon owlishly with his haunting green eyes. “I suppose I have been too lonely.” Danny lifted off the ground and drifted towards Kon, who also lifted into the air and started leading Danny towards the farmhouse.

“I’m not Nocturn.”

Danny looked over with one of his indulgent smiles.

“I mean it,” Kon said quickly. “I don’t want you to think I lied and said I was him when I’m not.” He may need to let Danny think he’s still dreaming, which technically he’s not wrong about, but Kon wasn’t going to try to pretend to be someone he’s never even heard of.

“If you say so.”

Kon sighed, he’d tried. They arrived at the house then, Kon carefully wiped off his shoes before going in. Danny didn’t have a lower half to bother with. “Ma, Pa, I have a guest.”

“Oh, is it one of your friends or did Diana and John finish their shopping trip already?” Ma asked as she walked into the room. When she spotted Danny she stopped and looked at him for a moment before smiling brightly. “You must be Danny, Conner’s been telling us about you.”

Danny looked up at Kon, “Conner?”

Kon shrugged, “Earth name.”

Danny just nodded, then turned back to Ma. “I am Danny, it’s nice to meet you.” He held a hand out, the arm attaching it to his body barely there.

Pa came in just as Danny introduced himself, then he gave the boy a hearty handshake.

“Well, can you eat?” Ma asked.

Danny shrugged and looked to Kon, who also shrugged. Danny turned back to Ma, “I can smell.”

Her mouth rolled into a thin line, “Well how about I make you a cup of hot cider and we can see how that goes.”

“Sure.” Danny followed Ma into the kitchen. He managed to pull out the chair himself to sit in it, legs still missing and hands barely a suggestion as they were folded in front of him on the table.

Ma set about pouring some of the cider they had into a pot to heat up. While that was going, she bustled around the kitchen gathering enough mugs for everyone.

Pa sat across from Danny at the table while Kon stood to the side, just watching her until she poured the steaming cider into the mugs. Kon picked up two of them and handed one off to Danny, while Ma gave Pa his.

“Thank you,” Danny said to both Kon and Ma when the mug was placed in front of him.

Interesting, according to Tim fairies were allergic to saying thank you. So either Danny was raised human and didn’t know he was a fairy, or he was a human and this was all Nocturn.

Danny closed his eyes and seemed to savor the long sniff he took of the mug he’d pulled closer to himself. “It smells so good.”

“Thank you,” Ma said proudly, taking a sip for herself.

Danny leaned forward and carefully picked up the mug, tipping it to take a sip. Cider splattered on the table. Danny frowned down at it.

Kon quickly picked up one of the kitchen towels and wiped the spill up. “That’s a bummer.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I can make myself solid enough. It’s so weird, normally I have to try to not be solid.”

“Well I’m sorry you can’t eat,” Ma said with a sigh.

“It still smells really good.” Danny settled the mug in his hands to be cradled just under his nose.

No one seemed sure what to say to that. It was Pa that tried to change the subject. “Why don’t you tell us about yourself, Danny?”

“I’d rather not.”

Kon couldn’t help wincing, even said in Danny’s soft, dreamy voice that was a bit harsh.

Pa recovered, “Alright then, how about we tell you about the farm? It’s been a real nice year so far. The animals and crops are doing well.”

“It’s been easier since Conner’s been actually staying instead of just visiting,” Ma added.

“What?” Kon asked.

Ma tittered, “Since Danny showed up you’ve been staying the whole time instead of just visiting.”

“I visit every day!”

“You do,” Ma agreed with a wide smile. “Don’t change that it’s been lonely since Clark and Lois moved back to Metropolis, took little Jon with them.”

“They visit a lot too!”

“That they do,” Pa agreed. He gave Danny an exaggerated wink, “We’re real lucky our boys can make the time to come visit us so often.”

Danny smiled gently at Pa, “It does sound-”

Danny’s mug clattered to the table, spilling cider across it and splashing some on the floor. Kon moved to start cleaning it up when he realized why Danny’s mug had fallen.

Danny’s right arm was missing.

Danny looked down at it with his usual passive expression, “Oh, so that’s what that feeling was.”

“What?” Kon asked blankly.

“They’re gonna run outta limbs eventually.”

Kon looked over to Ma, who had her hands pressed over her mouth, and Pa, who was frozen half standing. Then he looked back to Danny, who was still frowning at his shoulder. “W-what?”

Danny looked passively up at Kon. “You already know what’s going on, it’s why you made this waking dream for me after all.”

Kon stared at the arm that wasn’t there, not even a misty hint.

Danny sighed and closed his eyes, a nearly invisible arm and hand reappeared and quickly became as solid (half at best) as the other hand. He picked up his fallen mug.

Kon thought about how Danny’s arms only seemed to be there half the time. He thought about how Danny’s legs almost never seemed to be there. Kon thought about how he wasn’t entirely sure what Danny’s face looked like besides his brightly glowing eyes.

Ma was already sopping up the cider with a kitchen towel, Pa was at the linen closet grabbing bigger towel. Kon was outside, crouched over in a squat with his fingers laced and pressing against the back of his neck. He heard Ma distantly shout for Clark, but he was too busy trying to get his breathing back under control to notice.

DP x DC Prompt/Plotbunny #6

After days? weeks? months? years? in this mercy-forsaken lab, Danny finds himself slipping; his core straining under the weight of what he's been subjected to. In a last ditch effort to save his fracturing soul, his brain simply stops processing the pain and allows his mind to escape into a waking dream.

Danny knows it's a dream. If he thinks about it; he can still hear, see, feel the scientists at work. He doesn't think about it; instead embraces whatever false world his mind decides to concoct for him.

.

Several states away, a young boy opens his eyes to the inside of a strange pod in an abandoned lab. Though he cannot see it yet, a strange metal tag dangles from his ear, stamped on one side with the word 'CADMUS' and on the other with 'R-13'.

[al-1-na]

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 ~ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

⋰∴⋱⋰∴⋱⋰∴⋱⋰∴⋱

⋰∴⋱⋰∴⋱⋰∴⋱⋰∴⋱

The days flew by in a blur after that night. You and Drew spent every spare moment together, slipping away from the chaos of the set to steal kisses in quiet corners, sharing secrets under the stars, and dreaming aloud about what the future might hold.

But as the end of the production drew closer, so did reality. You were going back to New York. Drew had a packed schedule of press tours and auditions lined up. Neither of you wanted to bring it up, but the question hung over you like a storm cloud: What happens next?

One evening, after a long day on set, Drew called you over to his trailer. When you arrived, he was sitting on the small couch, his head in his hands. He looked up when you walked in, and the vulnerability in his eyes made your chest ache.

“Hey,” you said softly, closing the door behind you.

“Hey.” His voice was quiet, his usual smile absent.

You sat beside him, your knee brushing his. “What’s wrong?”

Drew sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to ruin this.”

“Ruin what?” you asked, though you already knew.

“This,” he said, gesturing between the two of you. “Us. I finally have you back, and now we’re about to be thousands of miles apart again. What if—”

You didn’t let him finish. Instead, you reached out, cupping his face in your hands. “Drew, stop. We’re not the same people we were back then. We’ve both grown, and we both know what we want now.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again. “And what I want is you. Every day. Not just when it’s convenient or when we happen to be in the same place. I want to be the guy who’s there for you—no matter what.”

You felt tears prick the corners of your eyes, his words cutting straight to your heart. “I want that too, Drew. I don’t care about the distance or the logistics. We’ll figure it out, because you’re worth it.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, Drew pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he buried his face in your neck. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

“I think I do,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours before he kissed you. This kiss was different—slower, deeper, filled with every unspoken promise between you. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer as if he were afraid to let go.

“Stay with me tonight,” he said, his voice barely audible as his forehead rested against yours.

You nodded, unable to find the words, your heart too full.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of tangled sheets and whispered confessions. Drew held you like you were the most precious thing in the world, his touch reverent and his kisses endless. Every moment felt sacred, like a piece of the puzzle you’d both been missing for years had finally fallen into place.

As the first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds, you found yourself curled against his chest, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm.

“You know,” he said, his voice still husky with sleep, “I’ve been thinking about taking some time off after this project. Maybe spend a few months in New York.”

You lifted your head, your eyes widening. “Are you serious?”

Drew nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. I want to see what it’s like—being with you every day, not just in stolen moments. And who knows? Maybe I’ll find a project there. But even if I don’t, I just… I need to be where you are.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you leaned down to kiss him. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Just say yes,” he murmured, his hand sliding into your hair.

“Yes,” you whispered against his lips.

And in that moment, as Drew held you close, you knew this wasn’t just a second chance. It was the beginning of something even better—a love strong enough to weather any storm.

⋰∴⋱⋰∴⋱⋰∴⋱⋰∴⋱

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @maybanksgirl69 @raeven-marie43

[scrollonso]

Eventually — Lawhan Mixed Media AU

Twitch Streamer AU — 1.2k words — @ellearts

outbacksprout

liked by maplemarauder, grussellsprout, and 10,008 others

outbacksprout went out with lancey and his puppy!!

view all 395 comments

maplemarauder my angel bb :(

outbacksprout me or honey >:( maplemarauder both my angel bb's!!

user is that outback on the last slide??

user I THINK SO!! user he's been posting faceless pics of himself sm recently!

kkofficial✅️

liked by maplemarauder, flyingdutchman, and 263,914 others

kkofficial✅️ family time over, 24 hour elden ring steam in the works!

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flyingdutchman 24?? mate wth

kkofficial u heard me ho flyingdutchman u have issues

user o.b. and liam post on the same day... it's too much

user HELP why do we all like both of them user outback and liam lovers unite??

user liam are you gonna stream cod tonight??

kkofficial i'm thinking abt it!! if i do it'll be in a few hours

Liam’s stream was chaos — as usual. He was halfway through a COD match, yelling instructions at his teammates while chat spammed messages at lightning speed.

He narrowly avoided a grenade, shouting, “How the fuck is this guy everywhere? He’s like a — a fuckin' kangaroo on steroids!” as his team erupted into laughter.

But even in the chaos, Liam couldn’t help noticing his chat filling with a different kind of energy.

"OMG GUYS OUTBACK LIVE! >-<"

"Why do you guys do this to me? Both my favs are live at the SAME time 😭😭"

"Outback and Liam collab when??"

“Outback?” Liam muttered, confused, leaning closer to his second monitor as he scanned the chat. “Wait, you mean the Stardew guy? The faceless one who has that cat cam?”

The chat erupted:

"YES!"

"That’s him! He’s live, and it’s so wholesome right now :("

"Imagine Liam raging while Outback is talking about his pixel crops lol."

Liam smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Faceless farmer? What exactly does he do?”

The replies came fast:

"Farms?? LMAO"

"He’s super chill, it’s the complete opposite of your chaos... (luv u dont ban me)"

"His voice is literally melted butter. So soft and warm. </3"

"He got excited over finding a rare fruit tree today,, it was adorable."

Liam chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “So you’re saying while I’m out here sweating bullets in warzones, this guy is geeking out over fruit trees? That’s… kind of amazing, actually.”

Another wave of messages flooded in:

"You’d like him, Liam."

"Outback raid would be legendary."

"DO IT!

"RAID OB!"

Liam grinned, tapping his desk as he considered. “Alright, alright. Let me finish this game, and maybe I’ll see what all the fuss is about. But no promises.”

He didn’t admit it, but he was curious. Someone who could charm his viewers this much, all while staying faceless and cozy, had to be something special. And judging by the way his chat wouldn’t shut up about it, maybe this “Outback” deserved the attention.

Jack was peacefully streaming his latest Stardew Valley playthrough — this time he was set on marrying every male character in the game, his warm, quiet voice filling the air as he commented on his latest in-game project. “Alright, so I think the pumpkin patch can go here, and we’ll line the path with some of these little pink flowers…”

The chat was a flurry of supportive messages, as usual, but suddenly the tone shifted.

"O.B!!!!!, KiwiKiller is talking about you on his stream!"

"Liam mentioned you like, five minutes ago!"

"He called you the 'faceless farmer' — so cute."

Jack froze mid-sentence, his mouse hovering over a patch of soil. “Wait, what?” he asked, his soft accent tinged with confusion. “KiwiKiller? That FPS guy?”

More messages flooded in:

"Yea! He said you geek out over crops, and he thinks it’s amazing!"

"He’s still live OB!! he might raid you after his game."

"Liam and Outback collab when???"

Jack chuckled nervously, leaning back in his chair as he adjusted his headset. “Uh, well, that’s… unexpected,” he admitted, a faint blush creeping into his voice. “I didn’t think someone like him would even know I exist.”

The chat immediately reassured him:

"Of course he knows you! You’re iconic, Outback :("

"Everyone loves you, mate.

"YEAH!!! Even sweaty FPS streamers."

"He’s probably jealous of your pumpkin patch skills."

Jack smiled, his voice softening even more. “I don’t know about that, but… it’s kind of cool, I guess. I mean, he’s got such a big audience, and he’s, you know, really good at what he does. Meanwhile, I’m over here getting excited about pixel carrots.”

His chat exploded with laughing emotes and messages of support:

"Pixel carrots > killstreaks any day, O.B."

"Outback supremacy!"

"We need him to raid you,, it’s what the people want </3"

Jack shook his head, his shyness evident in his tone. “If he raids, I’m going to have to hide under the desk or something,” he joked. “I don’t know how to handle all that attention.”

Still, as he returned to his pumpkin patch, there was a small, curious smile on his face. The idea of someone like KiwiKiller noticing him — someone so loud and confident, the polar opposite of his quiet streams — felt strange, but also… kind of exciting.

Liam leaned back in his chair, satisfied after yet another victory. His stream was winding down, but his chat was buzzing with anticipation.

"RAID OUTBACK!"

"You promised, Liam!"

"Do it!"

"Faceless farmer, here we come!"

Liam laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, fine. Let’s see if this OutbackSprout guy is still live.” He opened a new tab, scrolling through Twitch until he found the cozy stream everyone had been hyping up. The screen showed a beautifully organized Stardew Valley farm, with Jack’s soft voice narrating his plans for the day.

“Oh, fuck, this is adorable,” Liam said, grinning. “Look at this! The little pumpkins! The fence! This guy’s living his best farming life.”

His chat exploded with excitement:

"HE’S PERFECT, RIGHT??"

"RAID NOW!"

"He’s so different from you, you guys need to be friends!"

“Alright, let’s do it,” Liam said, clicking the raid button. “Let’s bring some chaos to his little farm.”

Jack was mid-sentence, explaining his plans to expand his barn, when his chat suddenly went wild.

"KIWIKILLER RAID!"

"THE KIWI IS HERE!"

"OMG HI LIAM!"

Jack blinked, his hand freezing on his mouse. “Wait… what? No way.” He glanced at the viewer count, which had skyrocketed in seconds. “Oh my gosh. Um, hi, everyone. Welcome.”

Liam’s viewers flooded the chat with messages, while Jack’s regulars tried to explain:

"KiwiKiller just raided you! He’s been talking about you all stream!"

"Be nice to him, Outback!"

Jack stammered, his voice tinged with nervous laughter. “This is… a lot. Thank you, uh, KiwiKiller? Liam? For the raid. I— Uhm, I hope you like Stardew Valley?”

Liam’s message popped up in the chat:

"We love it already. Your farm's cute, mate."

Jack’s cheeks flushed, even though no one could see him. “Oh, um, thanks. It’s… nothing fancy, just, you know, some pumpkins and stuff.”

Liam joined the chat banter, his tone uncharacteristically soft and encouraging:

"Don’t sell yourself short, mate. This is impressive. Chat’s right,, you’ve got some serious farming skills."

Jack’s nervous chuckle turned into a genuine laugh. “I think that’s the first time anyone’s called me impressive, but thank you. Seriously.”

The interaction was so wholesome that both chats couldn’t stop gushing:

"NEW BESTIES!"

"They’re so sweet omg."

"This crossover is everything."

After the stream ended, Jack checked his notifications and saw a new follower on Instagram: kkofficial. Hesitating for only a moment, he clicked follow back.

Not long after, he received a DM:

Liam:

"Thx for being such a good sport abt the raid. Your stream’s cute. Would love to play something chill w/ you sometime. Only if ur up for it."

Jack stared at the message, his heart racing. After a deep breath, he replied:

Jack:

"Thanks for the kind words and for the raid. I’d love to! :3 Maybe I can teach you how to plant pumpkins without yelling at them..."

The friendship — and maybe something more — had officially begun.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 61: I Bet It Stings

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

I don’t like this. Do not. Like. This. Being escorted by my broers, sure. Being escorted by the Peaky Blinders, oké. But having to travel with a stranger?

“How long is the drive to London?” Mr. Dixon asks in his Southern drawl as we exit the barge. 

And I thought I stuck out here. A Georgian distillery man in a cream suit catches even more attention. Vader certainly has a fair share of business associates.

“Please be patient, Mr. Dixon. A car is on its way to meet us.” I walk up to the ticket office and signal to the man inside. “Hello. I am Verena Steenstra, foreign representative for Thomas Shelby and Shelby Company Limited. Is there any transport scheduled for us?”

His eyes light up at the mention of the company. “Of course! Right this way.”

We’re led down the dock and into a parking lot, where a shiny Fiat 501 is waiting.

“Woo-wee! This Mr. Shelby sure does know how to spend his money,” Dixon comments as he inspects the car. “What a beauty.”

“Mrs. Thorne sent the car, Ms. Steentra,” the driver informs me as he places our bags in the trunk. “She said to tell you that Mr. Shelby is currently doing business in London.”

A perfect warning. It’s also a perfect way to escape my escort. Thanks, Ada.

The panic of the market crash is already spreading. I see it on everyone’s faces as we’re driven through London’s crowded streets. The Houses of Parliament stand proudly ahead. The Fiat parks near the front and I head straight to the nearest phone booth.

“Ada? I just arrived in London. Any news?”

I hear her grunt. “Business as fucking usual. God, I hate him so much right now! I hope you didn’t come back just for him.”

“You know that’s not true,” I mutter sourly. “Sometimes I hate him, sometimes I love him. There are even times when I want to shoot him. Are you alright?”

Ada sighs. “Do not say a word. I’m pregnant.” She’s-?! “Don’t say a word! It’s bad enough hearing Linda and Lizzie complain about their husbands. I don’t need someone breathing down my own neck.”

So Thomas did marry her. Is that what it takes? Get knocked up and Thomas Shelby marries you. I swear sometimes I want to slap him straight across his hoogdravend face-

The face I spot across the courtyard. Thomas. Wearing a sharp navy suit and his signature hat. Quite the hoity-toity job for a man who breeds horses.

“We’ll talk more when I get to Birmingham," I mutter before hanging up.

I lead Dixon towards the gangster, trying to keep my breathing steady. You are not here for him. You are here to earn money. You are here to help your family.

“Well, well, well. Thomas Shelby, MP,” I mock brashly.

Thomas, who still has his back turned, freezes. He whips around and his look of shocked recognition is priceless.

“Verena,” he breathes out. “You’re here…”

Yes, I still exist. Yes, I did pick out a dazzling blue dress to show off my best features. No, I do not regret showing up unannounced to him.

“And I brought business with me,” I finish for him and gesture to my escort. “Thomas, this is Mr. Dixon, from Georgia. He owns a distillery operation in Tennessee.”

Thomas looks between us. Then down at my hand. One might say he’s examining for my own wedding band.

“Great. Why is he here?” Thomas asks bluntly.

I wave a finger at him. “Be nice. He’s here because he lost stocks, the same as you, and wants to do a sale. And…”

“And to escort this lovely lady,” Dixon states and boldly places a hand on my waist. “Her daddy asked me to. A true beaute if I ever did see one. How fetching, indeed. Too bad you’re a Yankee.”

Thomas stares the man down with an icy glare. “Hilarious. May we please proceed, Mr. Dixon?”

“Before you both start, please tell me why you have summoned Liam?” I demand lightly. “Before I left he mentioned receiving a letter from you. Obviously you two stayed in touch.”

Thomas stays quiet for a second, measuring his words. “Your brother is a hard worker. He secretly offered his services for the time you are here so he can keep you safe.”

Keep me safe? That practically means keeping an eye on me! Why on Earth would Liam desire to work with the Peaky Blinders? The job is cut-throat, brutal, adrenaline-inducing- Who am I kidding? He’s a prime candidate for it. I know it’s his decision but I do not want my broer being caught up with Thomas more than he has to!

“Very well. I will leave you men to talk.” I back away crossly and start walking back to the car.

Mr. Dixon gets a confused look. “Ms. Steenstra, I’m supposed-”

“You were supposed to escort me from New York to England on orders of my vader. You have fulfilled that obligation, therefore your services to me are no longer required.”

I am going to Birmingham where the real action is. Not all these suits meeting in dark rooms. I am going to bring my information to Arthur, the head chairman, and continue on my merry way-

“That is all?”

The hidden upset in Thomas’ voice leaves me feeling both cocky and… shameful. It pains me to treat him like this but I am not lowering my defenses again.

“I did not come here for you, Mr. Shelby,” I reply, still facing away. “I am here because this new depression has twisted my hand and I am here to earn money.” He has no response to that. “Now you know what it feels like to face the other end of disappointment.”

I bet it stings.

“Is this about Lizzie?” Thomas asks when I start walking again.

“You brought it up, not me. Good evening.”

“Oi! Verena-!” He’s trying to follow me.

I pivot and hold up a hand to stop him. “Stay away, Thomas. I’d rather not repeat the same routine. You need help, I support your ridiculous idea, you botch it up and push me aside, and I walk away.” I slide into the car and give him one last look of warning. “Let’s skip to the last part, shall we? I’m going to see Ada and get some real business done.”

Thud!

I shut the door in his confused face and watch as he gets smaller and smaller behind me. Remember, Thomas, you made me into this.

The instant the Fiat drops me off at Ada’s house she comes running from the front door to give me a hug.

“You’re back!” The Shelby zuster cheers. “Did you see Tommy yet?”

Her subtle curiosity makes me give her an annoyed smirk. “Left a Southern gentleman to talk with him. Now that people in America hear my family’s partnered with you lot they all want in on the action.”

She tilts her head. “Maybe the Southern man fancies you.”

“He’s here for business, same as I.” That closes the topic. “What about you? I guess you missed sex after all.”

Ada smiles and pats her stomach as we make our way inside. “Polly predicts it’s a girl. Says I should name her Elizabeth.”

“And who’s the lucky father?” I grunt as I heave my trunk into the parlor.

“His name is Ben Younger. A black man.”

“Another blessing from God,” I declare warmly and ignore her last comment. “You should be very happy. He sounds like a very charming man if he has won over Ada Thorne’s heart. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Ada smiles gratefully, then turns to a different subject. “I don’t know what plans you have yet. I’m meeting Tommy in a few days to discuss some things with a comrade.”

He’s still dancing with socialism? Wonderful. Something else we can disagree on.

“Speaking of, Tommy wanted to know why you’re giving him the silent treatment.”

Is that what he thinks I’m doing? If anything, the treatment I’m giving him is his own. And I will be anything but silent about it.

“I am not.”

Ada rolls her eyes and pours some fresh tea. “Come off it, Verena. You haven’t been too chatty with him since you last left.”

“Thomas used to appreciate me for listening. Now he won’t even say thank-you. So he’s going to get his own words spat into his face.”

“Yes, well, Tommy’s a stubborn twat.” She gives me a pointed glance. “Yet you still wear his necklace.”

Drat. She noticed. I finger the silver pendant around my neck, unable to think of a reasonable rebuttal. I can’t help it. I tried to dispose of the thoughtful gift that reminds me of him. Either it’s nostalgia or pathetic pity on myself, but I cannot bring myself to throw Thomas’ cross away.

“Can you please just say something so he’ll stop nagging me about when you’ll start talking again?”

Something about how she says that sounds practiced. Anticipated. Not like something Ada would normally go along with.

I pick up the teacup and inhale the sweet scent. “He told you to ask me, didn’t he?”

“Yes! He called me before you got here! And I’m tired of being a bloody messenger!” Ada outbursts. “So tomorrow you are going to Arrow House and talking to him properly!”

My jaw drops. “I don’t-!”

“Shut it.” Ada picks up a briefcase and sets it on the table. “Here. These are documents from some contacts in Boston. Go have him sign them and talk to him before he nags my ear off. No more squabbling. This is an order on behalf of the company. End of discussion.”

Sneaky Ada. How does she expect Thomas and I to chat and make up? And for me to risk opening up again? He’s like a drug. The longer I know I can’t have him, the more I want him. The devil of Birmingham.

I could leave straight to Germany now. Leave before I get in too deep again. Thomas might not like it. But my precious time should be used for making money and avoiding more heartbreak. Then again, Polly wouldn’t approve if I go without seeing her. I could give in and let them hate me… No. No matter how hard I try to convince myself, I cannot let him go. 

The only thing I can do is my job.

@meadows5

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

18

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

almost ONLY after, titling is often the hardest part of a fic for me. i do periodically title fics before writing them, when i have a very clear idea of what a certain title would be about, but i don’t think i’ve ever actually posted a fic that i’ve titled before writing, funny enough. my biggest pull for fic titles is song lyrics because a: it’s much easier than coming up with it myself and b: i like giving the reader a little soundtrack!

[gomzdrawfr]

Bam bing bong, summary of my doodles in 2024

[impossible-rat-babies]

also I keep doing the thing where I have an interaction. astarion disapproves. I sigh. I reload the save before the interaction. I kick him back to camp. I do the thing. I pick the lad back up.

[yeyayeya]

I was scrolling through my abandoned drafts and found a Scáthach/Arthur fic that I started writing almost 6 months ago that I forgot about, and I surprisingly wrote quite a lot

I might have enough motivation to eventually finish it, but I ain’t exactly sure if I will

I might eventually post it, but don’t be surprised if I don’t actually finish

[foxgloveinspace]

My dumbass brain…. I can not read sleep token fic (I still try) but by gosh do I have a magnum opus of a fic I could write for them.

[gregmarriage]

the strugglerrrrrrrrr

[wildemaven]

my mood is meh now, thanks

[radioactivelizzy]

I just watched the entire Star Wars prequel and original trilogy while completing this 1,000 piece puzzle. Which took weeks with me working in between. Only to find I’m missing 1 piece… 😭 Still worth it as motivation to rewatch the entire series.

[beloveds-embrace]

Part two of the Lavender Marriage au! Considered adding smut to this but I chickened out lmao if the ending is abrupt it’s because of that 🙂‍↕️

The four men are fuming.

Since witnessing the lip-lock battle, they’ve been stewing in barely-contained anger. Every time they see you- on your porch in one of those sweet sundresses, humming to yourself as you water the flower boxes or hand them freshly-baked cookies- they’re consumed by a burning desire to tell you the “truth” about your cheating husband. But the ring on your finger, and your seemingly cheerful demeanor, stop them every time.

Still, they’re restless. It’s wrong to let you live in ignorance like this. But also, it’s not their business even if they want it- even if they want you. The thought of ruining your cozy life, despite your husband’s unfaithfulness, isn’t an easy one to swallow.

It becomes easier to think of admitting it all to you with each passing day, though.

“He’s walking around like he’s done nothing wrong! The bastard. How does she not see it?” Kyle grumbles, gesturing wildly with his tea mug. He grits his teeth, watching your husband saunter inside the house without offering to help you. He just puts down a plate of steak Kyle knows is too fucking cooked. Heathen. Bastard. Ughhh.

“She’s either blind or loyal to a fault,” Johnny agrees, sprawled out on the couch, looking far more despondent than usual. “Breaks ma bloody heart, lads. She’s makin’ us lemonade an’ cookies, an’ he’s aff canoodlin’ wiith some bloke under her roof.”

Simon grunts, his eyes narrowing as he joins Kyle’s side. “What kind of man cheats on her? She’s…” He trails off, unwilling to finish the sentence, but everyone knows what he means: She’s perfect.

Meanwhile, John leans back in his chair, puffing thoughtfully on a cigar. He’s been unusually quiet, though it’s clear he’s just as agitated, fist clenching on his lap. Finally, he speaks, his tone commanding.

“We wait until he leaves,” he says, much to the others’ dismay. “We don’t meddle now. If she finds out on her own, we’ll be there for her. Until then, we keep our mouths shut.”

The others grumble, but they nod in agreement. For now.

You, meanwhile, are oblivious to the internal warfare raging next door. Your days are filled with your usual routine of pretending to be the dutiful wife, gossiping with the neighborhood ladies, sweetly cooing about your hardworking husband, and pretending you don’t know they will gosspi about you after you leave. On the way, you also deliver a basket of homemade muffins to your handsome neighbors.

Such good men; they didn’t even yet know they were your little kitchen rats to taste-test everything you make for the annual baking contest. This year, that bitch Beatrice will not win and you swore it.

“Oh, these look incredible,” Johnny says when you hand over the basket. He flashes you a cheeky grin, and you can’t help but smile back, cheeks warm. “Y’know, if yer husband does not appreciate all this, I might just have ta steal ye away, lass.”

You laugh, waving off the comment as a joke, but the other three men go rigid. “Not the time, mate.” Kyle mutters, elbowing Johnny, though you really don’t notice. Their house is coming along so nicely and so fast; the perks of having handy men as its owners, you suppose.

Later that day, while you’re trimming the hedges of your precious little garden , you spot Simon working on their roof. You catch him staring at you- not that you blame him, you are wearing your one of cutest skirt and top- and you give him a small wave. He almost falls off the roof even if he does wave back, so you decide to just focus on the damned hedges and hopefully avoid any more incidents.

They’re so distracted by your lovely self that they almost forget their rage toward your husband. Almost. Because just as Price and Johnny are helping you carry bags of groceries back to your house, your husband- traitorous bastard- walks out of the house all patient and whistling.

“Be back soon, honey! You know how long my business trips take.” your husband calls over his shoulder, giving you a quick wink before he hops into a car and drives off.

Unbelievable.

The tension is palpable. John glares. Johnny looks like he’s seconds from sprinting after the car. Simon mutters, “Unbelievable,” under his breath from where he and Kyle are watching from the window.

“Oh dear,” you sigh, though on the inside you are very happy. You know your husband’s boyfriend has a nice surprise picked for him- you helped get it, after all- and now you have the house all to yourself again. Perfect.

You turn to John, batting your lashes up at him and it is as if all his anger melts away. “Be my guests this evening, John? I’d be terribly lonely, all by myself in this big house.”

John really, truly, fucking hates your husband for doing this to a precious, lovely thing like you. But at least it means they’ll be the ones in your company.

“Alright, doll,” he nods, fond as he watches the grin stretch across your face. “Let me just go tell the muppets, then we’ll come by and help.”

“There’s no need-“

“I insist, sweetheart.”

That evening, as promised, the four of them come by to “keep you company” and help. You’re in your element, flitting around the kitchen in an apron as you serve drinks and chatter away, oblivious to the tension radiating from the group. You are practically glowing; your pretty flowers were complimented and the food looks so good you can’t wait to post it on your instagram.

Simon leans against the counter, arms crossed, staring daggers into the walls- into the portraits of you and your husband. Kyle is poking at one of the cookies you made like it’s done something to offend him, his mind adrift. Johnny’s chopping away at vegetables, muttering under his breath and wishing it was something else under his knife. And John? He’s nursing his whiskey like it’s the only thing keeping him sane. It might as well be. You talk so nicely about your husband and what he’s customized for you in the kitchen, still so unaware of the truth.

John contemplates just telling you right then and there, but then it happens.

The front door swings open, and in strolls your husband, laughing loudly with none other than his boyfriend- the one the group saw kissing. They’re holding hands, both grinning like idiots.

“Sorry we’re back so soon!” your husband calls out, completely unbothered by the fact that your house is now hosting four very large, very angry military men. “I forgot my wallet-”

The rest of his sentence dies in his throat when he notices the four men staring at him, expressions ranging from pure disbelief to murderous rage. His boyfriend freezes too, glancing nervously between you and the men like he’s walked into a firing squad.

“What the bloody hell is this?” Johnny practically shouts, pointing between the two men with the knife. “You’ve got the audacity to bring him here? Here?”

Kyle crushes the cookie when he slams his fist on the table, standing abruptly. “Under her roof? After all she’s done for you? Again?”

Simon doesn’t say a word because he truly doesn’t need to- he’s just staring, fists clenched, practically vibrating with barely-contained fury.

John finally speaks, his voice low and dangerous, pulling your surprised self against his side protectively. “You’ve got some confessing to do.”

Your husband just… blinks, then glances at you. “Wait, you didn’t tell them?”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I didn’t think it would come up like this.”

“Tell us what?” John demands, his tone sharp. He is still glaring at your husband and the boyfriend

You wave your hand dismissively, like this is the most normal thing in the world with a soft sigh. “Oh, we’re not really married for love, John. It’s just for the benefits- y’know, keeping his parents off his back and mine off mine.”

The room falls silent. Dead silent.

“What?” Simon finally growls, his voice low and dangerous. All this time…

Your husband grins sheepishly, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Yeah, I’m gay. This is my boyfriend. He’s great, isn’t he?” He says, kissing his boyfriend’s cheek.

Johnny looks like he’s just been hit with the frying pan the vegetables he’d been chopping was meant to go in. “Yer what?”

Kyle stares at you, wide-eyed. “You knew? This whole time?”

You shrug, popping a cookie into your mouth. Ohh, Beatrice should count her fucking days. “Of course I knew. We planned the whole thing together. It’s not that complicated, really.”

Simon mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like a curse.

“Anyways, we do have places to be,” your husband sighs. “I’ll just get my wallet and leave you all be to your date.” When he returns with his wallet a few minutes later, he kisses your forehead. “Bye, love. I snuck some of the cookies too- Beatrice is absolutely not winning this year, trust me.” And then he leaves at last.

John exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “Let me get this straight,” he says slowly. “You’re married but it’s just… out of necessity, and you’ve just been… pretending to love him?”

“Exactly!” you say brightly, clapping your hands together. “See? Not so hard to understand.”

The four men just stand there, utterly gobsmacked.

“You mean to tell me,” Johnny starts, pointing an accusatory finger at you after placing the knife down. “that we’ve been stewin’ for weeks over a cheatin’ husband that doesn’t even exist?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” you reply with a giggle, pouring a drink. Your eyes widen then. “But you cannot tell anyone here, in this shitty town, about this!”

“We won’t, love, promise.” Kyle groans, slumping back into his chair. “I need a bloody drink.” And then he perks up when you slide him the drink you just made. “…fucking lifesaver you are, love. Thank you.”

Simon just shakes his head, muttering, “Unbelievable.” under his breath.

John sighs, downing the rest of his whiskey in one go. “You’re going to be the death of us, doll.”

You grin, completely unfazed. “Oh, come on, boys. It’s not that bad.”

The four of them exchange a look- one of disbelief, exasperation, and maybe just a hint of relief. Because as much as they’re reeling from the truth, one thing’s clear: you’re technically single. And that, at least, is something they can work with.

[nottsangel]

TWO. handjob — harry potter

warnings — smut 18+. handjob. sub!harry kinda

kinkmas mlist. more.

“harry, focus! we must finish this today!” you snap impatiently at your boyfriend, who’s sitting restlessly in his seat, leg uncontrollably bouncing up and down, clearly not interested in the homework in front of him.

“it’s just— i can’t.” he whispers urgently, and you narrow your eyes at him, confusion written all over your face. the chilly wind coming through his window gives you goosebumps all over, and when you follow his dazed eyes to see where he’s staring at, you realise what is happening. you glance down at your top, and through the thin fabric, your nipples are clearly visible, hard and perked up due to the cold breeze.

“you are unbelievable. i’ll put on a sweater and then we’ll get to work, okay?”

“well, yes, but i still have a little… problem.” he swallows hard, the last word barely audible as he awkwardly scratches the back of his head, unable to look you in the eye out of embarrassment. you momentarily stare at him in disbelief, before letting out a resigned sigh, knowing there’s only one way to handle this… situation.

“alright. but we’ll make it quick.” your hands instantly fly to his crotch, causing hitched breaths to slip from his throat at the sudden closeness of your hands to his erection, gazing down with flushed cheeks. your swift fingers quickly free his aching cock from his tight pants and boxers in no time, before you tightly wrap your fingers around it.

“look at me.” you order, your hand pumping up and down his length at a steady pace, causing him to moan softly with his pink lips parted, and he slyly turns his head towards you to meet your gaze for the first time.

“next i won’t help you until finish your homework, okay?”

“y-yeah, but—”

“no buts!” you increase your pace, your hand moving quickly over his hard erection as he obediently nods, his eyes squeezed shut in sheer pleasure. your thumb occasionally brushes over the sensitive tip, slick with precum, and his breathing becomes ragged and uneven at the overwhelming sensation.

you can tell he’s close already— his cock twitching in your hand, his teeth nearly drawing blood from how hard he’s biting down on his swollen lip, and it doesn’t take long before spurts of cum escape the tip, making a mess all over his lap as soft, breathy moans spill from his lips.

“that’s a good boy.” harry’s chest rises and falls as he recovers from his orgasm, his eyes carefully fluttering open and squinting against the bright desk lamp. you lift your cum-slicked hand from his lap, bringing it to your lips and licking your fingers, tasting the salty sperm as his half-lidded eyes stare right at you in awe, his mouth hanging slightly open.

“good. now, let’s get back to work and you might get more when we’re done.” “mo—more? you think i can focus now?” “harry!” “sorry, sorry!”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Yandere batfamily x neglected reader

The manor is cold, silent as a tomb, and for once, it feels like a fitting home. You lie still on the bed, too small and fragile in the heavy, towering room. They all gather around you, each staring in shock, faces pale, breaths shallow—as if hoping that, by holding their breath, they might somehow trade their own life to coax warmth back into your cold form.

Bruce’s hand hovers over you, hesitant. His calloused fingers, so accustomed to war and violence, seem clumsy when they brush against your cheek. He trembles, silent, fighting against the whirlwind in his chest, his stoic mask cracked beyond repair. “I promised to keep you safe,” he whispers, his voice breaking in a way none of them have ever heard before. “I promised… and I failed you.” His hand, heavy with the weight of every failure, drops to his side, useless.

Dick’s hands cover his mouth, choking on a sob that won’t stay hidden. He’s the eldest, the one who was supposed to know better, to set the example. But he looks at you now, his eyes red and raw, remembering each time he walked past you, too busy laughing with others to notice you slipping away. “Why didn’t I tell you…?” he whispers, agony etched across his face. “Why didn’t I show you that you were loved?” The words fall into the silence, lost, and he knows you’ll never hear them now.

Jason kneels beside the bed, clutching your lifeless hand in his, as if he can pull you back with sheer force. His shoulders shake, his body radiating rage, despair, regret. His lips tremble as he remembers the countless times he shrugged off your gaze, ignored the quiet plea in your eyes. He thought he was sparing you from his darkness, protecting you from the world. But now he sees it for what it was—neglect, cold and unkind. He bows his head, the unbreakable Red Hood shattered, silent tears falling onto your still fingers.

Tim stands back, his face white, hands trembling as he presses his fists to his sides. The detective, the genius, who noticed everything—except you. He let the days slip by, assuming there’d always be more time, that you’d understand he was busy, preoccupied with saving the world. But now, as he watches the life drained from you, he feels a pang in his chest sharp enough to cut through bone. “I should’ve been there,” he whispers, voice barely audible. “I should’ve been a brother to you…” He stares at you, eyes rimmed with despair, the guilt hollowing him out from within.

Damian’s usual steel has melted into something unrecognizable. He doesn’t know how to touch you, where to place his hands, and the hesitation makes him feel powerless in a way he’s never known. He’d prided himself on being stronger, colder, above such weakness—but now, faced with your absence, he finds himself wishing he’d let you in, softened just a little. “You… you weren’t supposed to…” He can’t even finish, his words broken. He reaches out, almost unwilling, to touch your hand, flinching when it’s cold. His lips press into a thin line as he tries to hold back tears, but they fall, betraying the ache he’d been too proud to acknowledge.

They stay by your side, each of them reliving every lost opportunity, every moment they could have held you close and didn’t. Days pass, blurred, and they linger in the same room, surrounded by memories of what should have been.

When Alfred brings them food, they push it away. They can’t bear the thought of comfort while you lie there, untouched by life. They whisper to you, sometimes out loud, promising things they can’t ever deliver: "We'll make it up to you…we’ll fix this." But no voice answers back.

Driven by desperation, Bruce turns to ancient books, rumors, magic, anything that offers a hint of hope. He works night after night, chasing the impossible. The others follow him, each digging into their own corners of madness, driven by the need to correct what they destroyed. But every ritual fails, every lead falls cold. And the bitter truth gnaws deeper: there is no cure for regret, no resurrection from guilt.

The night finally falls silent, and they’re left alone with you, as if the universe itself mourns. Each of them curls beside you, their heads on the bed, hands on your arm, your hand, your chest, wherever they can cling to you, trying to pretend for one last moment that you’re still there. They hold on, eyes shut, whispering prayers to a god who’s deaf to their pain.

When morning breaks, none of them rise. They stay beside you, unwilling to face a world that doesn’t have you in it. They’ve lost you, their last chance to be the family they should have been, and they know now they’ll never be whole.

(A/n: no one asked and I also didn't but INSPIRED BY DIS IDEA FROM @steor-ra ILY BESTFRIEND BUT PLEASE UPDATE 💜👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩)