#i would check out dog books from the library and read them over and over and over

[bas-rouge]

Me: I should take a break from art for finals week.

Also me: if I don't draw a dog RIGHT NOW,

[theonottsbxtch]

WHEN THE WORLD GOES QUIET PT.2 | LN4

an: i'm seeing a lot of love for this and i'm glad! i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing this - i'm now omw to the library to write some more stories for you guys hehe

wc: 6.1k

part one

FOR DAYS, SHE MOURNED.

She barely left her bed, drifting between fitful sleep and hollow wakefulness, the hours melting into each other like wax from a candle burned too long. The world outside continued - newspapers shouted about the war, footsteps echoed in the stairwell, rain pattered softly against the windowpane - but none of it touched her. It all felt so distant, like she was floating just outside of reality, unable to reach it, unwilling to try.

The soldiers had come back two days later after the first visit. They handed her a small box - Lando’s belongings. He didn’t have much. A pocket watch, the glass cracked but the hands still ticking. A battered deck of playing cards, edges worn soft from use. A few letters he never sent to her, some half-written, some only a few lines long. A book of poetry she gave him with his name scrawled inside the cover, the pages dog-eared and stained with ink. He lied to her, he said he’d never read it. A cigarette case, dented, still holding one last cigarette as though he was going to come back and smoke it with her in the rain while she sang.

She ran her fingers over each item carefully, as if memorising the feel of them, as if holding these things would somehow bring him back. She placed the box on the small table by her bed and left it there, untouched after that, unable to look at it for too long.

A week passed. The grief didn’t lessen, but it settled into something quieter, heavier, pressing down on her ribs with every breath.

And then, on the seventh day, there was a knock at the door.

It was weak. Barely there. Just a soft, uncertain tap tap tap, as if the person on the other side wasn’t sure they had the strength to knock at all.

She ignored it at first - probably some children selling biscuits. She barely had the energy to move, let alone answer the door. But then it came again, a little stronger this time, though still unsteady.

Slowly, she pushed herself up, wrapping her dressing gown around herself as she crossed the small, dimly lit room. Her body felt leaden, her mind sluggish, and for a moment, she thought it must be one of her neighbours - maybe Mrs. Holloway from downstairs, coming to check if she was still breathing.

She unlocked the door with tired fingers and pulled it open-

And nearly collapsed where she stood.

Lando.

He was standing in front of her, barely upright, swaying slightly on his feet like a man who’d been fighting gravity for too long. His face was bruised and still slightly bloodied, one eye swollen, a cut running along his temple. His uniform was tattered, stained with dirt and dried blood, his left arm cradled against his side as if even the weight of it was too much to bear. He looked ruined. Wrecked by something that should have killed him.

But he was here. 

Alive. 

A slow lopsided grin pulled at his split lip, his voice rough and hoarse as he rasped-

“Missed me, sweetheart?”

Her breath hitched, her vision blurred. For a moment, she could do nothing but stare, her hands gripping the doorframe to keep herself upright.

Then, before she could think, before she could stop herself.

She threw herself at him.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, her body colliding with his so suddenly that he let out a low groan of pain, but she didn’t care for a brief minute. He was solid. Real. Her fingers curled into his torn uniform, her face buried in his shoulder, and the sob that has been trapped in her chest for weeks finally broke free.

He let out a shaky breath, his good arm tightening around her waist as he whispered, “Took a long bloody way home, but I got here, didn’t I?”

Home.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her hands cradling his face, her thumbs brushing over the bruises there. He winced slightly but didn’t pull away.

“You-” Her voice cracked, raw from days of silence. “You died.”

He gave her a faint, crooked smirk. “Nearly died. Big difference, sweetheart.” His voice softened. “They shot us down over France. I-” He swallowed, something dark flickering through his bruised gaze. “I shouldn’t have made it.”

Her fingers trembled against his jaw, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs “But you did.”

“Yeah.” His voice was barely a whisper now. “Yeah, I did.”

She stared at him for a long moment, her breath uneven, her thoughts a tangled mess of grief and disbelief and absolute, crushing relief.

Then she grabbed his collar, yanked him forward and kissed him.

He made a low sound in his throat, startled, but he melted into her, his lips warm despite the cold that clung to his skin. It was desperate, messy, edged with too much pain and too many unsaid words, but neither of them cared. 

When they finally pulled apart, he let out a breathless chuckle, his forehead resting against hers. “Blimey. If I’d known I’d get a welcome like that, I’d have come back sooner.”

She huffed out a tearful laugh, skating her head as fresh tears slid down her cheeks. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, well,” he murmured, his fingers brushing weakly over her wrist. “You love me anyway, don’t you?”

She didn’t really know what love was growing up, she was raised knowing that she could only love God and the Church. But here, staring at this messy boy with his messy curls and lopsided grin, she thought of how much she mourned him, the lie she voiced for him and realised that yes, she did love him.

She exhaled, her fingers still cupping his face, and nodded.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I do.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, like he was letting it sink in, letting it steady him. Then, with a small, pained sigh, he leaned into her touch and muttered-

“Reckon I might need a lie-down, sweetheart. Nearly dying’s exhausting work.”

She let out a watery laugh, shaking her head as she finally pulled him inside, shutting the door behind them.

She still didn’t know how this was possible, how he was here, when she had already mourned him. She didn’t know if she would ever stop waking up in cold sweats, thinking it had all been a dream.

But for now, he was here and that was enough for her.

Once inside, she took care of him. Took care of him in the only way she knew how, with love.

The small flat wasn’t much, but it was warm, and it was safe, and for now, that was enough. She helped him out of his tattered uniform with careful hands, breath momentarily taken away as she took in his build. Her fingers ghosted over the bruised ribs, torn skin, the places where war had left its mark on him. He hissed when she pressed a damp cloth to the cut on his temple, but he didn’t complain, only watching her with a look that made her chest tighten.

She tried not to meet his gaze, tried to focus on the task at hand. But then-

“So,” he drawled, his voice still rough, still weak, but carrying the familiar edge of teasing. “Heard you called yourself my fiancée.”

Her hands froze.

Her stomach plummeted.

Her eyes snapped up to his, wide with horror. He looked far too smug for someone who had nearly died, his bruised lips curling into something that might have been a smirk if he wasn’t so exhausted.

She stammered, struggling for words, but before she could say anything, she glanced down at her hand.

And her heart stopped.

The ring.

It was still on her left hand. She had never switched it back.

Heat flooded her face so quickly she thought she might faint. She dropped the cloth to his lap and yanked the ring off, shoving it back onto her right hand, fingers trembling, her whole body ablaze with mortification.

“That was- I had to,” she spluttered. “They wouldn’t have told me anything otherwise, and I needed to know.”

Lando let out a low chuckle, wincing at the movement. “I dunno, sweetheart. Sounds an awful lot like a proposal to me.”

She picked up the cloth and threw it at his chest.

He let out a breathless laugh, catching it before it fell to the floor, but the sound faded quickly, something heavier settling between them. She swallowed, focusing on cleaning his wounds, pretending she wasn’t still burning from the embarrassment.

“You really did that?” he asked for a moment, his voice quieter now, “You went all the way out to Bovingdon?”

She nodded, dabbing gently at his brow. “Didn’t have a choice, did I?”

Something flickered in his gaze- something unreadable, something deep. “That was dangerous darling, what if something happened to your train?”

“I needed to know, Lan.”

He went quiet after that and she continued to work, washing away the blood, the dirt, the remnants of everything he had endured. The worst of it was his ribs, bruised and maybe cracked, but there was nothing she could do except wrap them, murmuring soft apologies when he flinched beneath her touch.

When she was done, she sat back, studying her work.

“You should be in the military,” Lando muttered, voice laced with exhaustion. “Proper little nurse, you are.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes. “I would be in the military, if they let me fight.”

His gaze softened. “I reckon you’d win the whole bloody war if they did.”

She scoffed, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward. For a moment, just a moment. Things almost felt normal.

But then, Lando let out a slow breath, the teasing fading from his face.

“I lost Oscar,” he said.

Her heart clenched.

Lando’s right hand-man. His best mate. She had met him once- just once, outside the bar, both of them too drunk to be serious about anything. He had been tall, full of quick wit and easy laughter, and Lando trusted him with everything.

She didn’t know what to say.

Lando didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed somewhere far away - empty. “We were shot down over France. They got us good. We tried-” He exhaled, his hands twitching, curling into fists. “We tried to jump, but Oscar- his parachute wouldn’t open. I saw him go down. Couldn’t do a damn thing.

She reached for his hand instinctively, gripping it tightly.

“I don’t know how I made it back,” he admitted. “I ran back for Oscar, took him as far as I could and gave him a final prayer. Silly right?” he chuckled. “I took a bullet to the leg after that, nearly starved, but some French boys found me. Got me out before the Jerries could.” His throat bobbed. “But Osc-”

He didn’t finish. 

She squeezed his fingers, her heart aching. “I’m so sorry, Lando.”

He nodded once, slowly. But she knew this wasn’t something he would ever truly move past.

The war took and took and took.

And yet, somehow, against all odds. Lando had come back.

She let the silence settle between them, her fingers still wrapped around his. It wasn’t comfortable, not with the weight of what he had just said, but she knew better than to rush him. Lando seemed like the type of man who carried his grief quietly, let it sink into his bones where no one could reach it.

After a while, she exhaled softly and asked, “So, what happens now?”

Lando tilted his head back against the wall, his bruised face illuminated by the dim glow of the gaslight. He looked tired. Bone tired. But the ghost of a smirk still tugged at his lips.

“Well,” he drawled, “I’m on the injury list until I heal. Not much use to ‘em like this, am I?” He gestured vaguely to himself, to the cuts, the bruises, the way his left arm still hung stiffly at his side. “Can’t fly, can’t fight. Means I’m stuck here for a bit.”

She nodded, trying not to let the relief show too plainly on her face. He was here. He wasn’t being shipped back out - at least not yet.

Lando glanced at her, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. “Father O’Connell said I can stay at the Church until I’m good.”

That made her pause.

“The Church?” She repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He huffed a quiet laugh, as if he had been expecting her reaction. “They’ve got a spare cot, and it’s better than the street, sweetheart.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, fighting a smile. "You? Sleeping under a roof dedicated to the Lord you don’t believe in?"

Lando smirked. "Reckon I’ll be fine, so long as the walls don’t cave in the moment I step inside."

She laughed then, shaking her head. "Blasphemous and injured. You’re on dangerous ground, Lando Norris."

"Wouldn’t be the first time," he murmured, wincing slightly as he shifted.

She hesitated for a moment, watching him carefully. He was exhausted. She could see it in the way his body sagged slightly against the chair, the way his hands trembled faintly from either pain or sheer fatigue. He was trying to keep up the bravado, but she knew better.

"Stay here."

The words left her mouth before she had fully thought them through, but as soon as she said them, she knew she meant them.

Lando blinked at her. "What?"

She crossed her arms, feigning nonchalance. "You heard me."

He raised an eyebrow, smirking faintly. "Offering up your flat to a war hero, are you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Hardly. Just an injured man who can barely stand upright."

Lando chuckled, but then he really looked at her—like he was trying to understand if she was serious. "I don’t wanna be a burden."

"You won’t be," she said, softer this time.

He studied her for a long moment, as if he was trying to decide whether or not to argue. Then, finally, he let out a small, resigned sigh.

"Alright, sweetheart," he murmured. "You win."

And for the first time in days, she felt like she could breathe.

She looked after him because someone had to.

She changed the bandages on his ribs with careful hands, wiped the dried blood from his temple, made him tea even though he grumbled that he wasn’t some fragile old man. She forced him to eat, nudging a half-stale biscuit toward him when he thought she wasn’t looking. And when his body ached too much to sit upright, she guided him to the small bed in the corner of the flat, ignoring his protests as she threw a blanket over him.

It was quiet work. Steady. Something to keep her hands busy, something to stop her from thinking too much about the fact that just two days ago, she had been mourning him.

She was pouring him another cup of tea when she spoke, her voice quieter than before. "I prayed for you."

Lando, sitting up against the headboard, glanced at her. His injuries had settled into something duller now—still painful, but less sharp, less all-consuming. He wasn’t wincing as much when he moved, but his face still bore the bruises of war.

He studied her, something unreadable in his gaze. "Did you?"

She nodded, fingers tightening around the cup. "At the church. When I thought—when I thought you were gone."

His jaw tensed slightly, as if the thought of her grieving him was harder to bear than his own suffering. Then, after a pause, he exhaled and said, "I prayed."

Her head snapped up.

Lando Hargrove, the man who scoffed at church, who smirked every time she wore her cross, who always had something sharp to say about the God she wrestled with.

She swallowed. "You mentioned, you were serious?"

He nodded, looking down at his hands. His voice was quieter now, rougher around the edges. "When I was out there. Alone. Before the French boys found me, with Oscar." His fingers curled slightly, as if remembering the feel of the earth beneath them, the cold, the hunger, the absolute isolation. "Didn’t know if anyone was listening. Didn’t know if I even believed it." His gaze lifted to hers, raw in a way she wasn’t sure she had ever seen before. "But I thought of you."

Her breath caught.

She didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know how to unravel the knots twisting in her chest. So she just nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

The night carried on, slow and steady. She cleaned up the small mess from their tea, doused the gas lamp until only the dim glow of the streetlights filtered through the curtains. Lando had already sunk lower into the bed, exhaustion pulling at him with an unrelenting grip.

"You should sleep," she murmured.

His lips twitched. "And where are you planning on going, sweetheart?"

She hesitated. The flat was small—there was only the one bed, and the chair in the corner wasn’t much of an option.

Lando let out a quiet chuckle, shifting slightly to the side. "Come on, then. I don’t bite."

She rolled her eyes but, after a moment, relented. Carefully, she climbed in beside him, keeping a respectful distance, but the bed was small, and warmth carried between them in the sliver of space that remained.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then, just as her eyes were beginning to slip shut, Lando’s voice came, barely above a whisper.

"Still wearing that ring?"

Her lips twitched, but she didn’t open her eyes. "Go to sleep, Lando."

He let out a quiet, tired laugh.

And with that, for the first time in what felt like years, they both let themselves rest.

The night was still. The distant hum of the city had quieted, leaving only the occasional echo of footsteps on the cobbled streets below.

She had been deep in sleep, cocooned in warmth, when the bed jolted beneath her.

Then—

"Oscar!"

Her eyes flew open.

Lando was thrashing beside her, tangled in the blankets, his face twisted in something raw, something agonising. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his fingers clenching around the sheets as if he were still there, still on the battlefield, still losing his best friend over and over again.

"No—Oscar—wait—"

His voice cracked, broken apart by a sob.

She moved before she could think, shifting onto her side, reaching for him. "Lando—Lando, wake up—"

But he wasn’t awake, not really. He was trapped in the depths of it, in the nightmare, his chest rising and falling far too fast, his body trembling under the weight of something she couldn’t see.

Her heart ached.

She touched his face gently, brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead. "Lando, love, it’s alright," she whispered, voice steady despite the tightness in her throat. "You’re here. You’re safe."

His breathing stuttered.

She ran her fingers through his hair, trying to bring him back. "It’s not real. You’re with me."

His eyes snapped open.

Wild. Glassy. He was still lost, still caught somewhere far away. But then his gaze landed on her—really landed on her—and something in him broke.

A strangled sound escaped his throat, and then he was clutching her like she was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth. His body shook, and before he could turn away, before he could hide it, she felt it—

The tears.

Hot, silent, unstoppable.

Lando Norris was crying.

She didn’t hesitate. She lifted herself up, pressing soft kisses to his damp cheeks, tasting the salt of his grief. She wiped the tears away with her lips, her hands, her whole being, as if she could take the pain from him, as if she could bear it for him instead.

His hands curled into the fabric of her nightdress, his breath shuddering. He didn’t speak, and neither did she.

Instead, she held him.

And then, quietly, she whispered a prayer.

She didn’t know if he believed. Didn’t know if she believed anymore, not fully, not in the way she used to. But she prayed anyway, murmured soft words into the hollow space between them, words for Oscar, for Lando, for the war to end, for something greater than all of this.

Lando’s breathing slowed.

His grip on her loosened, just slightly.

She stroked his hair, pressing her forehead against his temple. "Sleep, love," she whispered. "I’ve got you."

He let out a shaky breath, and for the first time that night, he let himself fall.

And she held him, long after sleep claimed him again.

The rest of the night passed in fits and starts.

Even as Lando drifted back to sleep, his body remained tense, like he was waiting to be dragged back into the nightmare. Every so often, he’d shift against her, his fingers twitching in his sleep, a quiet murmur of Oscar’s name escaping his lips.

She didn’t let go.

She kept him close, her arms a steady anchor, her warmth something solid against the cold weight of his grief. When his breath hitched, she whispered reassurances into his skin. When his body shuddered, she ran soft, soothing strokes through his hair. And when dawn finally crept through the curtains, bathing the room in a muted grey light, she barely realised she hadn’t slept at all.

Lando stirred first.

It was slow—his body unwilling, his mind reluctant—but eventually, his brow furrowed, and he let out a low groan, pressing his face into the pillow.

She smiled softly. "Good morning."

A pause. Then, groggy, voice rough with sleep, he muttered, "Bloody hell."

She huffed a quiet laugh. "That bad, is it?"

He peeled one eye open, squinting at the light before shifting onto his back with a deep exhale. His gaze flickered to her, taking in the way she was propped up beside him, watching him with something gentle and knowing.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, voice lower now, almost hesitant.

She hesitated before answering. "You were already asleep when I came back," she murmured, "but you weren’t resting."

Lando’s jaw tightened. He looked away, exhaling slowly through his nose. "I—" He swallowed, then shook his head, running a hand over his face. "Shit."

"You don’t have to say anything," she said, watching him carefully. "Not now. Not ever, if you don’t want to."

Lando was silent.

And then—quietly, reluctantly—he said, "I dream about it."

She stayed quiet, letting him find his own words.

His fingers curled slightly into the sheets. "Sometimes it’s just flashes. The airfields, the engines, the bloody gunfire. Other times…" He exhaled sharply, his throat bobbing. "Other times, it’s Oscar. Every time I close my eyes, I see him. He’s still there, still trying to hold on, and I can’t—I can’t—" His voice faltered, raw and uneven.

She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his.

Lando blinked hard, then let out a small, humourless chuckle. "God, you must think I’m pathetic."

Her grip tightened. "I think you’re human."

He glanced at her, something vulnerable in his expression. Then, without a word, he squeezed her hand back.

The moment lingered.

Then, as if suddenly aware of their closeness, Lando cleared his throat and made a weak attempt to sit up.

She rolled her eyes. "Slow down, soldier."

"I was never a soldier," he muttered. "Just a bloody pilot who got too good at running from death."

She didn't argue. Not about that.

Instead, she shifted out of bed, stretching her stiff limbs. "Come on, then. You need tea, and I need breakfast."

Lando gave her a lopsided smirk. "That an offer to cook for me, sweetheart?"

She arched a brow. "You think I’d let you in my kitchen with your injuries? You can barely stand."

Lando chuckled, wincing slightly as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Reckon I should milk this while I can, then."

She threw a pillow at him.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the morning felt light.

The days passed in something dangerously close to peace.

For the first time in months—years, perhaps—she felt as though time had slowed, folding itself neatly around the four walls of her flat. Outside, London was still at war. Air-raid sirens still screamed through the streets, rations still stretched thinner by the day, and grief still clung to the city like fog. But inside, in the small space she shared with Lando, there was warmth.

Routine.

Something almost like a life.

She looked after him, of course. Changed his bandages when he let her, scolded him when he tried to do too much, forced food into his hands when he muttered that he wasn’t hungry. But he, in his own way, looked after her too.

He made her laugh, sometimes without meaning to. He occupied the space beside her like he belonged there, like there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be. He helped her with supper, standing over the stove with a cigarette perched between his lips, poking at potatoes with the wrong end of a wooden spoon.

One evening, after she had taken a pan from his hands with a sigh and done it herself, he leant against the counter and smirked.

"You know," he mused, watching her work, "you’d make a bloody good wife."

She nearly dropped the spoon.

The words caught her off guard, lodging themselves in a place she couldn’t quite reach, settling into the corners of her mind like an ink stain.

She glanced at him, half-expecting some cocky grin, but his expression was unreadable. He was watching her in a way that made her chest feel tight, made her hands shake ever so slightly as she turned back to the pan.

"Shame, that," she said, forcing lightness into her voice. "Don’t suppose anyone’s taking applications."

Lando hummed. "Well, I dunno about that," he said. "I did hear you’ve already got a fiancé."

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. "I knew you wouldn’t let that go."

"Course not." He grinned, stepping closer. "Imagine my surprise, waking up from the dead to find myself engaged. You could’ve at least let me propose first."

She swatted at him half-heartedly, but the warmth in her cheeks betrayed her.

It stuck with her more than she wanted it to.

After that, the thought wove its way into everything.

When she was brushing flour from her hands after baking the world’s most pitiful loaf of bread, she caught him watching her, and the words you’d make a bloody good wife flickered through her mind before she could stop them. When he reached for something on a high shelf, when he nudged her with his shoulder as he passed by, when he said ta, love with that easy grin—

It settled in her chest like a secret, like a whisper of something neither of them dared say out loud.

The week and a half passed like that. Cooking together, filling the flat with the scent of onions and broth, losing themselves in the simple pleasure of warm meals and soft laughter. The war felt distant, just for a little while.

She knew it wouldn’t last.

But God, she wished it would.

Another week passed, a haze of quiet mornings, warm meals, and the occasional conversation that lingered too long, as if neither of them wanted to break the fragile cocoon they’d woven around themselves. There were days when they barely noticed the outside world at all, as though the war had turned into nothing more than a distant rumble, something happening on the other side of a window that had been carefully closed.

The mornings had become routine—her getting up first, brewing tea, him shuffling into the kitchen in a half-awake stupor, ruffling his hair as he grumbled about being woken. The evenings fell into a rhythm too, with them sitting on the small couch, half a room away, each wrapped in the comfort of the other’s company, while the world continued its war somewhere beyond the windows.

One morning, she woke with the warm weight of Lando's arm around her, his breath soft against the back of her neck. She hadn’t realised it at first, but somehow, during the night, he had pulled her close, and now she lay pressed to his chest, his hold tight, as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

She shifted, careful not to disturb him, and the soft sound of bells reached her ears—faint at first, a distant chime that grew louder. She frowned, trying to make sense of it. It wasn’t the air-raid sirens, and it wasn’t a church bell for a funeral. No, this was different. This was... celebration?

She carefully pulled herself out of his arms, wincing at the small space between them, and padded quietly across the room. Her fingers brushed the curtains aside, and she peered out of the window.

The street below was buzzing with life. People were spilling into the streets, laughing, shouting, and cheering. Flags were being waved. And there—there were the children, dancing in circles, holding hands like they were marking the end of something heavy. The sounds of joyous voices drifted up to her.

Her heart began to pound. No... it can’t be…

"Lando," she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

She turned back toward the bed, her heart thundering as she crossed the room in a few quick strides. She leaned over him, shaking him gently at first, then more urgently. "Lando, darling—wake up!"

He groaned, rolling over and blinking up at her with a dazed expression, his messy hair sticking up in all directions. His face softened when he saw her, but it didn’t last long as the sound of the bells filled the room.

"What—?" He froze, his eyes suddenly clear, his breath catching.

She couldn’t contain the excitement in her voice, her hands gripping his shoulders. "Lando, the war—it’s over. They’re celebrating. Can’t you hear the bells?"

His eyes widened, then narrowed as he slowly pushed himself up, confusion flickering across his face before realisation dawned on him. The sound of the bells reached his ears, clearer now, and he could hear the cheering too. The world outside, the noise, the celebration—it was undeniable.

He sat up, blinking as he rubbed a hand over his face, disorientated for a moment as if he were still in a dream. Then, a half-laugh, half-sob escaped him, and for a moment, he didn’t move. He just looked at her, his gaze flickering over her face.

"Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath. "Is this... is this really happening?"

She nodded, her own disbelief mirrored in her wide eyes. "It’s true, Lando. They’re celebrating. The war’s ended. It’s finished."

He sat there, silent for a beat too long, before shaking his head as if to clear it. Then, he suddenly sprang from the bed, moving quickly, as if the news had sparked something deep inside him, something that couldn’t be contained.

In a few long strides, he was at the window beside her, his eyes scanning the crowds below. People were hugging, crying, dancing in the streets. And for the first time in years, there were no sirens, no orders to follow, no planes overhead.

Lando’s hand reached for hers, his fingers squeezing with a kind of urgency she hadn’t felt in days. His voice was soft, still somewhat stunned. "It’s over," he whispered, his lips curving in something fragile—something that might have been a smile, if not for the look of wonder in his eyes.

She nodded, her heart swelling with something she didn’t know how to name. "It’s over, Lando."

He turned to face her, his hand still holding hers, his thumb rubbing along her knuckles in a slow, tender motion. His eyes softened, the hardness that had lingered around the edges of them for so long finally ebbing away. "What now, then?" he asked quietly, as if the question itself was almost too much to ask after everything.

She thought about it for a moment, the uncertainty of the future heavy in the air between them, but the weight of the moment didn’t seem as daunting now. The war had ended. The world was open. And somehow, impossibly, they had made it.

"I don’t know," she replied, her voice soft, "but we’re still here. And that’s enough for me."

Lando smiled then, the warmth returning to his face, and for the first time since she’d met him, it wasn’t just a smirk or a teasing grin—it was something full of hope, something genuine.

Then, without another word, he leaned down and kissed her.

The moment his lips met hers, the world outside—the cheers, the bells, the war that had just ended—ceased to exist.

Lando kissed her like he had waited his whole life to do it, like he had been holding it back for weeks, months, maybe even longer. His hands cupped her face, rough and warm, his fingers sliding into her hair as he pulled her in like she was the only thing tethering him to the earth.

She gasped against his mouth, barely catching her breath before he kissed her again, deeper this time, more desperate, more real. Her hands clutched at his shirt, fisting the fabric like she needed to hold onto something solid, like if she let go, she might slip away into whatever fever-dream this felt like.

His body was warm against hers, his breath uneven as he pressed her back against the wall, his lips trailing from her mouth to her jaw, then to the hollow of her throat. She shuddered at the feeling, at the way his hands mapped out every inch of her like he wanted to memorise her in case she vanished before his eyes.

She felt alive.

After everything—after loss and grief, after nights spent in silence, after waking up to a world that had been at war for too long—this was the only thing that felt real. This moment, here, with him.

His forehead pressed against hers as he caught his breath, both of them dizzy from the weight of it all. His voice was low, rasping against her lips, breathless and full of something she couldn’t quite name.

"Well, what to do with my life now?" he murmured, his mouth quirking into something like a smirk, "s’pose I’ll just live here then. With my fiancée."

She let out a breathless laugh, her hands still tangled in his shirt. "Oh, will you now?"

"Reckon so." He grinned, but there was something warm and certain behind it. "Would be a bit odd for me to be staying with a woman I’m not engaged to, don’t you think? The people they’ll talk and your reputation. It’ll be ruined."

She raised an eyebrow. "Lando, you do know you never actually asked me, right?"

For a second, he looked taken aback, as if the thought had never even crossed his mind. But then, without hesitation, he stepped back, took her right hand in his, and before she could say another word—

He dropped onto one knee.

Her breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering wildly as she watched him, watched the way his fingers gently pried the ring from her right hand and held it between them.

His eyes found hers, and for the first time, there was no teasing, no bravado—just Lando, raw and real, looking at her like she was the only thing that had ever mattered.

"I haven’t got a real ring," he said, voice quiet, steady, "not yet, anyway. But I’ll get one. I swear it." He swallowed, his thumb brushing against the band between his fingers. "I’ll find a job—something stable. I could go to school, or work at Billy’s pharmacy, or whatever pays enough to get us something real, something good. And then..."

He took a breath, his lips quirking up into a lopsided smile.

"Then, if you’ll have me, I’ll marry you proper. But for now, all I can do is ask."

He reached for her left hand, slipping the ring onto her finger where it belonged.

"So what d’you reckon, sweetheart?" His voice was softer now, his eyes never leaving hers. "Marry me?"

She stared at him, her chest tightening, her whole body light and heavy all at once.

And then, with the weight of the war finally lifting, with the streets outside alive with celebration, and with the man she loved on his knee before her—

She nodded.

"Yes," she breathed, tears pricking at her eyes. "Yes, Lando."

And before he could even stand, she threw herself at him, kissing him again like she would never stop.

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @isaadore @driverlando

[azrakaban]

Mattheo Riddle Headcanons

Just a few little headcanons I have about my husband, loml, Mattheo Thomas Riddle <3 Sidenote: if you're confused, Tom Riddle is fancasted as the son of Voldemort rather than as voldemort himself, because he is too fit to be a noseless vampire xx

...

- his favourite colour is gray. The reason behind this is he used to know this really sweet smoke coloured cat when he was little and he used to play with her, so isnce then he finds the colour relaxing

- him and Theodore Nott have been friends since they were really young. Like 3 or something.

- when he was younger, he found a copy of peter pan in a bin somewhere, picked it up and read it. He knew his father would kill him if he found out he was keeping a muggle book, so he hid it and it became his favourite book after reading

- when he was really young, Bellatrix (his mother) taught him and Tom occlumency, to be able to hide secrets from their father. She thought it was important for them to have some kind of privacy.

- he would be an arctic monkeys fan (yes I am aware they were not formed at the time he was at Hogwarts, but if he was gen z he'd love them.)

- he's a cat person, due to being bitten by a dog when he was little (no he does not have rabies and no he is not a furry) but he has a soft spot for bernese mountain dogs because Theo Nott has one)

- when I say he has only got eyes for you, I mean it. This man would rather gauge his eyes out than look at any other girl, he is so incredibly loyal.

- He believed Rodolphus Lestrange was his father up until he saw Rodolphus yell at Bellatrix when he was 11 about him not being his son. It broke him, as up until then he had been Mattheo Lestrange. From then on, he went by Mattheo Riddle.

- love language is physical touch, always with an arm around your waist, fiddling with your hair, kissing your cheek, forehead, temple, nose, lips, anywhere he can reach.

- possessive, but not in a controlling way. He has a fear of abandonment, so he likes to know that you're still his. Seeing other guys/girls look at you worries him a little, but he can't blame them because you are literally gorgeous. (and tbh, I don't think he's ever gonna have a problem with you looking at someone else, because he's perfection.)

- would give up anything for you, and gave up smoking immediately after starting to like you.

- absolutely in love with you. I cannot stress this enough, but this man is head over heels, for you, and only you.

- has a soft spot for you. When you first met/saw him, you thought he seemed emotionally unavailable (which he was, besides joking with friends tbh) but that changed for you, he was kind, and even vunerable when he asked you out, although still prefers to keep his emotions to himself.

- just a lil thing, but th Riddle family is RICH RICH so he is always buying you gifts even if you insist he shouldn't spend so much on you.

- when I say this guy would get a dog for you, I must make you understand how HUGE this is. He HATES dogs, so this is a huge thing for him. PLEASE APPRECIATE IT!!!

- would get into fights all the time (check out previous one shot No More Fights pleeeease x) over you, for you, and with you. If you got into a fight he'd be at the sidelines cheering you on like the supportive love he is >>>>

- nicknames. Oh my god, he has so many for you, muggle references are a speciality of his for some reason. Boojiboo, Darling, Angel, Princess, baby, and his person favourite: LOVE. Love this, love that, he uses it more than your actual name.

- he has reading glasses. he absolutely hates them, but you think they make him look cute and kinda smart (which he does, picture it, trust me)

- he reads a lot. Back at his house his room is next to their library so he can have easier access to it.

- he loves astrology. He knows all the constellations, the planets, and takes you on stargazing dates

- he smells like pinewood and fire. Just a really relaxing, wintery scent

- He HATES Summer. absolutely loves winter and autumn, but summer is just horrible to him. he hates the heat and bugs mostly, but he also hates the holidays because he's away from you and his friends

- went to a lot of pureblood balls/dances when he was young and is a very good dancer.

- doesn't have the closest relationship with Tom, who is two years older than him (same year as the Weasley twins), but he can go to Tom if he needs help with anything, whether it be homework to planned Arson :)

- he has a gorgeous morning voice. all gravely but still sounds beautiful

- he loves pretending to be asleep infront of you, and deliberately pretends to say your name in his sleep to see you smile when he "wakes up" and you tell him

- he's an early bird other than when he's really tired. If you wake up before him, you're not getting out of bed for hours, he's keeping you right there with him, hugging you tightly to him to prevent your escape. (not that you'd want to)

- if he sees you're nervous, he gives you his hand to fiddle with and you play with his fingers. if it doesn't help, he takes your hands in his and squeezes them gently.

- makes really good pancakes and waffles. He had them first at Theodore's house, and Theo's mum taught him how to make them.

- he's very good with kids, surprisingly. You once managed to snap a photo of him wearing a plastic tiara and now use it as leverage in arguments ;)

- he has big brother energy, and a lot of it. After the battle of Hogwarts, when Delphini was very little, he helped raise her to the best he could with help from Tom, the other Slytherins and Narcissa Malfoy. If you were comfortable with it, Delphini would be really close with you and see you as a big sister/brother/sibling <3 you guys would look after her and raise her to not carry out the events written in the cursed child.

- continuing with big brother stuff, he helps out the first years with homework and stuff when they need it.

- if people aren't listening when he's talking, he doesn't yell, just stops talking

- he's not agressive while drunk, like ever. Infact, total opposite. It. Is. Hilarious. He loosens up entirely. Trying to get you to ballroom dance with him, tripping over his feet. He'll go full on Shakira until you have to drag him out of the room. One time you gave him a hug while drunk but he didn't recognise you so he said "sorry, I have a girlfriend/boyfriend/partner" 😭 then realised it was you and pulled you back into the hug.

- he loves scary movies, naturally, but he's actually a sucker for a good rom com if it's actually good. I'm not talking boring predictable ones, genuinely good ones.

- if he was gen Z, he would be a huge marvel fan. don't try to convince me otherwise. not collecting merch and stuff, but seeing every movie within the week it comes out.

- before you two started dating he kept listening to Conan Gray (yes I'm a huge Conan fan so may be a little biased and I know conan was not singing then but anywayyyyy) his favourite song was Heather, because he didn't know if you reciprocated his feelings, but when you got together, he gave you his sweater on the third of December. I'm so proud of him.

- he's more of a cooker than a baker to be honest, he'd bake with you, but other than that he'd steer clear of sweet treats.

- he's fluent in French, Spanish and Italian as well as English. He wanted to learn Latin as well when he was younger, but didn't have time so is learning it now.

- he wears converse a lot. don't even argue with me please, I am right. (you can quote me on that to your family if needed guys)

- he loves photography and taking long walks in nature to get photos. If you were comfortable with it, he'd use you as his muse, styling you into his photos and capturing your beauty perfectly.

- DIMPLES

- He can play guitar. Simping.

- loves spicy food, literally obsessed with it.

- his biggest fear is getting the dark mark. he doesn't want anything to do with his father, and only took the name Riddle so as not to be an insult to rodolphus.

- anytime you say "I'm proud of you" he silently pulls you into a hug. he hasn't heard those words enough, so the fact that you have said it just completes him.

- drops anything for you if you need him.

- man child. he needs your attention at least five times a day.

- big spoon. You will never ever be big spoon, it is his role, he has assigned it to himself and is very protective of it.

[twisted-dork]

Jason Meets May Parker (AKA The Woman of His Dreams Because She Beat Up the Joker)

Jason Todd wasn’t a romantic.

He wasn’t the type to believe in love at first sight or fate or any of that Hallmark crap. (He may read romance books but that’s fiction therefore it has different rules so it doesn’t count!)

But standing in front of May Parker for the first time—the woman who had, without hesitation, beaten the absolute hell out of the Joker—he thought, Yeah, I’m in love.

He hadn’t planned to meet her like this.

After all, he had questions.

Who the hell was she? How did she take down the Joker with nothing but a baseball bat and sheer rage? Why did the kid she was protecting act like this was just another Tuesday?

So, naturally, he did what he did best.

He followed her.

Which, in hindsight, might not have been his best idea, because when she caught him lingering outside the library where she worked, she hit him in the chest with a hardcover book.

Hard.

May: “You gonna tell me why you’re lurking like a creep, or do I need to hit you again?”

Jason, stunned, looked down at the book she had just used as a blunt weapon.

Jason: “…Did you just hit me with ‘War and Peace’?”

May: “It was the closest thing I had. Want me to try ‘Moby Dick’ next?”

Jason, for reasons he couldn’t explain, grinned.

Jason: “Well I would appreciate it if you didn’t, you pack quite the heat.”

Jason didn’t lie that hit actually hurt which only made him more curious on just how strong she is.

May: “Well from what I’ve seen here in Gotham I think that’s a good thing?”

She smirked putting her hand on her hip.

Once Jason convinced her he wasn’t a threat (and after she made him hold out his hands so she could check them for clown makeup because she wouldn’t be surprised if The Joker sent people after her), May allowed him to sit with her inside the library.

She watched him warily over the rim of her coffee cup, the same way one might watch a stray dog that had wandered in off the street—curious, but not quite trusting.

Jason, on the other hand, was watching her.

Because she was different.

She wasn’t scared of him. Wasn’t intimidated by the leather jacket, the scars, the general air of menace that usually made people keep their distance.

No.

She just looked… tired.

Tired, but not weak.

And damn if that didn’t make his brain short-circuit a little. He had only planned to feel her out. Figure out what kind of person she was.

But then (the boy who was kidnapped,) Peter ran up to her, tugging at her sleeve.

Peter: “Aunt May! I finished my book! Can I get another one?”

May smiled, ruffling the kid’s hair in a way that spoke of effortless familiarity.

May: “Sure thing, sweetheart. You want another science book?”

Peter: “Mmhmm! I wanna learn about quantum physics!”

Jason blinked.

Jason: “…You’re like, five?”

Peter (scowling): “I’m sevente—!”

May m: “Careful. He’ll start monologuing about multiversal theory if you’re not careful.”

May cut Peter off handing him a book and smoothing down his curls.

And that was it.

That was the moment Jason knew he was completely and utterly screwed.

Because the kid was hilarious, and May Parker was somehow both the most terrifying and most comforting person he had ever met.

And Jason Todd?

Well.

Jason Todd had always had a thing for dangerous women with big hearts. He didn’t say it aloud, but he knew then and there that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Not just because May had wrecked the Joker like it was personal (which by the way he sees how much she loves the kid it’s unsurprising).

Not just because Peter was the most sarcastic seven-year-old he had ever met (at least he’s not trying to stab him like Damian would).

But because she reminded him of the kind of person he wished he had when he was a kid.

Fierce. Protective.

Unyielding in the face of cruelty.

And even if she didn’t know it yet, she had just gained an unofficial bodyguard in him.

Because Jason Todd wasn’t about to let someone like her face Gotham alone.

Not now.

Not ever.

——————————————————————————————————————

I’ll be making a taglist soon so if you want to be tagged then just request in my ask

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 149 (A New Pet - And a New Landgraab Problem?)

Captain Whitaker made himself right at home at the Gordon house on Sable Square. When Lavender returned from daycare on his first day as a reanimated dog, the Captain was thrilled to meet the energetic toddler who loved pets.

He also celebrated discovery of the chicken coop in the backyard, and he loved to chase the cats. It had been a while since Heather and Conrad needed to train bad habits out of a new pet, but they were happy to do it, because Captain Whitaker fit their family like a glove.

Heather's sister, Hazel, dropped by for breakfast one morning, on her way to help Alexander Goth put together his application to run for mayor.

"It's a long process and the town hasn't had an election in close to forty years, but Alex has a lot of really great ideas to make the Bay even better," Hazel said. "I really believe in him, and he needs more help with his campaign now that he's doing midnight feedings with baby Carina."

At the mention of Alex and Lydia Goth's second child, newborn Carina, Heather rubbed her belly as she felt her own baby kick. "I'd love to see this town running smoothly with a real mayor at the helm. The water shut-offs we've had to deal with lately make it so much harder to get the kids bathed, and the dogs, let alone us!"

"I hate to sound like Dad, but get a dew catcher. It rains enough on the coast you could collect enough water to last for weeks!"

"What's a dew catcher?" wondered Lavender.

"It stores water for when there's drought or the pipes freeze in winter. It's kind of like recycling the rain," Hazel explained, and Lavender nodded along thoughtfully.

"What's recyclig?"

"It's when you take something and use it again for something else, rather than getting something new, because it's better for the environment. Like new toys. If you bought a used toy, it would be recycled, as opposed to a new toy from a store."

"Used toys are better for the envi-erment?"

Hazel nodded. "Yeah, because new production uses a carbon footprint, and you want that carbon footprint to be as small as possible to help the planet."

Heather glanced pleadingly at Hazel, launching into one of her public policy talks with a four-year-old. "Why don't you get your Aunt Hazel to read you a story before she goes to work?"

Lavender smiled, dragging Hazel to the living room and picking out a book. "Can you do the voices again, too?"

"Of course, Lava. I can't read you a story without doing the voices!"

"No you can't!"

Lavender wasn't the only one in the household interested in books. Ash had picked up as many books on time travel from the library as he could, and he'd barely put them down since. If he was supposed to invent time travel, he had to understand it first.

Heather and Conrad were wary of what he was learning, but they'd encouraged Felix and Lilith to pursue it before they knew what Marco had said. Ash promised to leave the actual time travel to the adults, so they allowed him to study books like Theoretical Electronics and A History of Time Travel to offer assistance to Felix and Lilith - but only if they needed it.

Conrad accompanied him to the local library to return a few books he'd finished and check out a few more, bringing the dogs to run around. They sat in bright inflatable chairs that seemed out of place in the old wooden building. But the local historian and librarian, Gunther Lynx-Munch, said they'd been dropped off by an anonymous donor and he didn't want them to go to waste.

As he thumbed through the books on the shelves, Conrad turned to his stepson. "Are you really interested in all this time travel stuff?"

Ash shrugged. "Felix and Lilith say Emit's nice. What if changing the future changes him, too? I don't want to change the future too much, but I don't want to be feared. If I do help Felix and Lilith, I don't mind people not knowing I did it."

That night, Heather prepped fruit for Ash's school lunch while Conrad was bent over the sink to repair the plumbing. "Malcolm called again," she groused. "He's so interested in Ash's counseling sessions all of a sudden."

"I think this time travel and seeing ghosts stuff freaks Malcolm out a bit."

"He doesn't even think it's real!" She closed the fridge door with a heavy thud to put away the sliced fruit. "I think he's plotting something. With his mother."

Conrad finished with the plumbing and dried his hands, wrapping his arms around her and cradling her stomach. "Like what?"

"He's acting like I can't take care of our son, as if he wasn't flirting with Miko instead of watching Ash when he was taken. He actually said 'It can't be easy to move around that small house with all those animals.' They have a dog!"

"Don't get upset," he pleaded gently. "Has Malcolm ever been worth it?"

She forced herself to breathe, letting herself fall into his embrace. "I love you. I just worry about Ash all the time lately."

"I love you, too. Let's get some sleep; the baby needs it. We can worry about everything again in the morning."

Despite her fear and worry, the days were busy and long. Pregnant Heather was easily fatigued, and she soon fell asleep in Conrad's arms. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

[w0rmss]

Library

Jason meets reader at a library they work at and he instantly dies (not actually)

tw: none just fluff

enjoy.

Jason hadn’t been to the library since he’d come back to Gotham. But one day he decided to go find something to read. He’d read through all his books and had taken to stealing Bruce’s but nothing interested him. So thats ho he found himself walking into the Gotham public library on a Friday morning. Hands in the pockets of his jeans paired with a plain black t. He didnt want to be recognised as either the red hood or one of Bruce’s wards.

His plan of action was to go up to the desk and get his old memebership renewed. But when he made it to the desk he stopped dead in his tracks seeing you, sitting there typing at the front desk and logging book. The man swore he died again when you looked up and smiled at him. “How can i help you this morning sir?” Your voice and the smile nearly killed Jason (again). He stood starring at you old library card in his hand. You looked up and at it and back at him before looking back at the card. “Want that renewed?” You ask look at him with your head tilted like a dog. All Jason could do was nod.

Slowly you reach over and take the card from him. “So just a few questions for the system, name.” Your turn from your computer and look up at him. Jason looks back at you dazed till finally is brain seems to catch up with the world and he clears hi throat. “Jason Todd and date of birth 16th of august. Erm if you need that.” His had falls to the back of his neck as he looks down at you typing in the information. “Perfect and phone numbers.” That send is brain into over drive. ‘Cute person wants my number oh my god my number why what Aaahhh.’ Till it clicked you needed it for the card. “Oh umm right it’s 776893422.” His brain is still on over drive as he watches you finish up and hand him his library card. “Here you go all set. Feel free to you it was much as you like.” Your turn from. Give him one last smile that he returns as he walks off his mentally kicking himself for not getting your number.

Jason was one of the last people to leave, leaving the doors just before you closed them up for the night. He stood next to you watching in adoration as you lock the doors and check if they were secure. That’s when he decides he has to make a move. “So umm. I know this is … weird but would you like to go out with me some time.” He stutters out, everything in his head telling him to shut up as you turn to face him. “Oh sure here I’ll give you my number.” You rummage through your work bag pulling out a pen and a post it scribbling your number down and handing it to him. Jason takes it a small smile starting to creep onto his face. “I’ll text you yeah.” He says with a grin watching you walk away. “Do see ya soon Jason.” You wave back walking down the street. He waves back. “Yeah ant wait. Um bye.”

Hope you enjoyed

feel free to send a request i love getting them

have a wonderful day night afternoon etc

stay safe

[schmergo]

If you think I was a kid who loved to read, you’d be right, but that doesn’t just mean I was reading, like, Newbery Award nominated prestigious children’s novels. Because in my experience, most kids who love to read are more gourmand than gourmet. I was also reading:

* Class rosters. I begged my teachers for these. I wanted to try to memorize everyone’s middle names.

* Similarly, old yearbooks. I liked judging whether people’s names matched their faces and making up different names for them if they did. I also loved reading baby name books and making lists of names I liked.

.* The personals section of the newspaper. I liked picturing the people as they described themselves and imagining which combination of people on the page might like each other.

* The ingredients of food packages. Not even for any real informational reason, I just really liked certain fantasy-sounding words like thiamine and riboflavin.

* An old World Book Encyclopedia from the 1970s. I would sneak out of bed to read it because the bookshelf was near my bedroom door and I could crawl to it without making the floor creak. My favorite entries were the ones about Hawaii and tigers. I kinda developed a ritual of rereading the Hawaii article when I had read a scary book before bed and needed to calm my brain down.

* My dad’s Dave Barry and Woody Allen humor books and also transcripts of all of the Monty Python’s Flying Circus episodes. This is probably why my sense of humor has been so weird from such a young age.

* The part of the church hymnal with ceremonies for baptisms, weddings, and funerals. I liked to imagine them.

* Wine catalogs at friends’ houses. The descriptions of the wines seemed so poetic and abstract. I also liked when they said “fruit on the nose” because I pictured a dog balancing a whole piece of fruit on its nose.

* My parents’ parenting books. I liked to see if I was exhibiting developmentally appropriate behavior. I am not 100% sure if doing that is, in fact, developmentally appropriate behavior.

* Those little brochures advertising various roadside attractions and tourist activities at rest shops. I would grab as many as possible when we stopped to use the bathroom on a road trip. Also, travel guides in general.

* I checked out the entire “unexplained” section of the library over the course of third grade. (Dewey decimal 001.9.) Ask little me about Project Blue Book, I guess.

* I LOVED party planning books, especially ones with highly specific themed parties that seemed impractical to put on in real life like a whole chess-themed party culminating in a game of human chess, complete with lemon chess pie for dessert.

* Seed packets. I find the writing style of these very endearing. It always sounds so affectionate toward the plants.

* My grandma’s Reader’s Digest magazines, which felt like Russian roulette because they sometimes published disturbing articles that gave me nightmares. (Reader’s Indigestion?) I especially vividly remember a feature on adopted kids who need to wear Ilizarov apparatuses to straighten their limbs because they became malformed due to severe neglect at orphanages.

* For some reason, I loved reading restaurant menus and imagining what kind of food different fictional characters would order from there.

* And last but certainly not least, because I think this is a relatable one: the AMERICAN GIRL CATALOG! No, I never had an American Girl doll, but getting the catalog was a source of much excitement.

[ask-the-golden-god]

*The arceus gave his body a stretch. A satisfying click followed, followed with a sigh of relief.*

Cepheus: Well, that was something. Ah, those vibes. The goo body was definitely fun. Oh right. I was leaving lol.

*The swirling portal stood behind him, sparkling with small stars. Cepheus took one more look at the beach, noticing some of the guests he had spoken to at this event. He wouldn’t forget any of them. Especially the two he couldn’t help. He had to figure out a way to be there for them. That victini. That poor, innocent victini. Fuck, it was awful for him to remember that Arceus. Temperance. What a vile individual. He shook his head and stepped through the portal. On the other side was a library, a familiar place to him. It was filled to the brim with a variety of different books he had collected on his many travels. Some from his own family, others from the minds of mortals. Hovering near one of the bookshelves was a mew, reading a book for themself. One of Cepheus’ best friends.*

Cepheus: ...Yeah. You're right. I just need to give them a little time.

Kel: And remember all the good you did too. That Lugia had a major moment of realisation. You were able to make that Calyrex release their hold on that flower crown it took. You were a positive influence to many of the folks down there. Bringing the chill vibes, as you said countless of times.

Cepheus: Heh, what would I do without you Kel? Always right like usual. That’s why you’re my right-hand mew.

Kel: You're capable of so much without me. You just need reminding of some of those basic things.

Cepheus: Yeah yeah. I get you. Regardless, it was actually a chill time. Definitely needed. Many most bodacious folks met. Those Magi. Absolutely radical. Love the advice they gave.

Kel: And what was your takeaway from that advice?

Cepheus: To wait for the right moment. And maybe try a little communication or something. I dunno. Who knows when his universe will open up to me?

Kel: Ah, exactly what me and your several children have said. Why is it that when we give advice, you don't listen to it but when another being comes along and gives you the exact same advice, you take it into consideration?

Cepheus: Sometimes advice has to come from another you're not familiar with to truly sink in.

Kel: Yes yes. I can see that. Ceph, what's the plan now then?

Cepheus: Spend some time with the kids. Travel around a bit. What I should have been doing instead of watching Aladar's atrocities.

Kel: Good. I'll join you too. Can't have you going back on your word. You've got to help yourself sometimes and that means not obsessing over his actions. You know we all say this because we care about you.

Cepheus: Yeah, I get that. I care about you all too. Perhaps I could check in on those two during my travels?

Kel: After you've seen your family.

Cepheus: Alright alright. Fam first then seeing if they're good. I got it. Time to see what the kids are doing then.

Kel: Oh, a word of warning. They have been watching your antics too.

Cepheus: Ah. So, I'm likely to expect a dog pile like before?

Kel: More than likely. I had to stop your friend Geode from coming down there because of that whole arceus thing.

Cepheus: And that would have been hilarious. Imagine. A zygarde appearing out of nowhere to defend a goomy. Ha.

Kel: Indeed.

*Slime Boi has left the Magi Retreat.*

*Cepheus is now available for asks.*

*Kel is now available for asks.*

[animasola86]

The Ghost under the Table

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x gn!reader

Word count: 2.3k // [READ ON AO3]

Warnings: nsfw! mdni! public oral sex (m!receiving)

Synopsis: a bj in the library (just a more explicit smut writing exercise really)

Last warning: there will be smut under the cut! Read at your own risk. I was not holding back this time! (Enjoy!)

“What are you doing down there?” you heard him whisper.

He sounded equal parts surprised and irritated – and you snickered to yourself as you crept closer, hidden under the Disillusionment charm, before you settled right between his legs under the table in this corner of the library.

Of course he had noticed you, he had taught you that spell almost two years ago to the dot, he knew what to look for. Or perhaps he had smelled you. He'd told you before that your scent was making him weak – his words, not yours, because at first you found the idea of you smelling a certain way a little weird and would frequently check with an inconspicuous sniff to your clothes. But apparently he had the nose of a dog, and whenever you would try to sneak up on him for a surprise hug, he'd already know you were coming.

And today, as you decided to surprise him with something else, he also already knew you were there. You sighed deeply, but quietly, because he was still the only one knowing you were hidden under the table.

“Surprise?” you whisper-laughed and put your hands on his thighs as you looked up at him. He obviously couldn't see your eyes, and he didn't even try to as he focused more on his surroundings now. You could see a tiny splash of red on his cheeks, and you smirked at the sight.

After two years of dating and making out in the weirdest of places and most certainly also in public, he still felt at least a little apprehensive when it came to your displays of affections. Or perhaps it was the library setting that made him wary. Madam Scribner still had her eyes out for him – and you now as well as you certainly tried to make out in the library before, but were rudely interrupted by Peeves – just like you were two years ago on your first excursion into the Restricted Section together, minus the making out part.

As you were now crouched under the table, albeit hidden under the Disillusionment charm, you became quite aware of how quiet it was in this haven of knowledge. There were a few other students about, but all of them were so concentrated on their reading and studying that even the slightest creak of the wooden floor boards beneath you echoed rather loudly through the room.

And that made it all the more exciting for you.

You watched Sebastian squirm a little under your invisible touch. “Are you... sure about this?” he asked in a low voice, still looking around.

“Yes. I woke up feeling naughty today,” you whispered back and leaned closer to his crotch. “Will you let me?”

“Was I ever able to stop you before?” he hissed back, and you saw a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You moved your hands up his thighs and squeezed them lightly in response. You saw and heard him inhale sharply.

“Try to hold it in, Sallow,” you teased quietly, and he threw a dark but amused glance into your direction before his eyes focused on the book that lay open in front of him.

You made quick work of the buttons of his breeches, and your fingers eagerly freed the object of your desire from its constraints. He was already quite excited to see you, and you smiled to yourself as you let your fingertips graze over his warm skin. You felt him shudder under your touch and looked up quickly. He was biting his lip, really trying to keep it down.

Fortunately the library desks were wide enough and as he was sitting in one of middle seats, there was no way someone would see what was going on underneath the table. Unless Peeves came floating through the ground... but that would be the worst case scenario, and you wouldn't cloud your mind with those. You were fixated on that deliciously tender piece of flesh and skin and muscles (though of course you never thought too much about its anatomical properties, more on what it was able to make you feel).

Your fingers closed around his base gently while your eyes stayed on his reddening face the whole time. You moved even closer towards his crotch, really nestling between his legs now, your shoulders pressing against his thighs. While you kept one hand on his growing erection, you let your other hand slide beneath his shirt, feeling the muscles of his stomach tensing up when you did so.

You inhaled deeply and licked your lips, then started to move your hand up and down his length slowly, lightly squeezing and teasing him. By now he had given up on trying to study while you worked on him, and he leaned back in his chair, relaxing under your touch, his hands wrapped around the armrests almost a little too tightly. With this new angle, he was now watching you, or rather watching how his cock was massaged by invisible hands. His brown eyes were almost black and caused you to shiver pleasantly.

He certainly had a knack for looking very dramatic, especially when he was looking down, and when there was even the tiniest hint of a smirk playing around his lips like there was now, you could already feel your legs trembling. Fortunately you were on your knees already and settled safely between his legs, so swooning was out of the question.

You watched him, chewing on your lips, and kept working your hand up and down those inches that you knew had given you so much pleasure in the past. Today you wanted to give back. You'd tasted him before, of course, countless times, but this setting seemed new and exciting, and the thrill of being caught or even heard was making your own body shake in excitement.

Inhaling deeply, taking in his scent, you leaned closer now, and as your fingers tightened around him, you brought your lips to his tip and gave it a soft and gentle peck. You felt him twitch lightly. Your eyes remained on his face as you parted your lips and planted more kisses on his sensitive skin, kissing all around his tip and then down the shaft, gently sucking on the slightly protruding veins. You felt him harden under your touches and continued your journey with a smile on your lips.

Your hand moved lower and your fingers curled around his balls, gently squeezing and massaging the warm skin. You felt him intake a shuddering breath as your mouth kept exploring his slowly growing girth. If you weren't in the quiet library, you knew he'd be way more vocal by now. But he was doing a really good job at keeping it down. You knew for a fact that if it were the other way around, you'd be a whimpering mess already.

As you moved your mouth over him, your free hand remained pressed against his stomach, feeling the shudders of his body right beneath your palm, even more so when you let your tongue in on the action. At first you just teased him, poking the tip of your tongue against his warm skin here and there, until you wanted to have a real taste and swiped it from his base all the way up to his tip, where you swirled it around as if he was the tastiest lollipop you've ever tasted (spoiler alert: he was).

You looked up at him and saw that his gaze was even darker and his cheeks were thoroughly flushed, but other than that he didn't show any sign of what he was experiencing at the moment. Although the knuckles of his hands were turning white as he gripped the chair tighter. You smiled to yourself and continued what you were doing as you slowly lapped at his hardening flesh.

As you raised yourself on your knees a little, you tilted your head down and slowly closed your lips around his tip, flicking your tongue against it playfully. You could already taste his excitement as his precum coated his skin, and you took a few more laps at him, humming softly against him as you did so. Another twitch ran through his body. Your eyes darted up, and you saw that he had closed his eyes and was breathing a little heavier now. Still quiet and contained, but surely not unaffected by your touches.

You hollowed your cheeks and gave his tip a soft suck, before you opened your mouth wide enough to take him in. Your own body shivered in anticipation as you lowered yourself onto him, your tongue firmly beneath him as you guided him in further and further, inch by inch, your lips tight around his girth, and you had to close your eyes as he started to occupy more than just your thoughts at this point. You let out a quiet whimper as his crown hit the back of your throat, and you felt your nose almost buried in his dark hairs.

You held him there for a moment in which you focused on the reactions of his body, and the restrained shudder that vibrated through his core made you lean back slowly, eyes flying open again and moving up to his face, and he was staring down at you intensely, pressing his lips together as he held back a moan.

You moved back all the way and let him slip out of your mouth with a wet pop. You swallowed your saliva and breathed deeply, before moving back in right away, repeating your movements until he was again fully submerged in your mouth – and then you started to slowly bob your head up and down.

He was breathing loudly through his nose while you kept your steady rhythm, hollowing your cheeks with every upwards motion and pressing your tongue against his length when you pushed him back in. He was getting harder and harder, and your lips strained around him.

With your eyes closed you couldn't see him any more, but you sure as hell felt him. His legs were twitching around you, clenching against your shoulders, keeping you right there between them. His body was shuddering and the muscles in his stomach tightened under your palm. He was fighting the sensations with all he had, probably all red and tense, gripping the chair – until you felt his hand in your hair, and he was really grabbing you, holding you in place, pushing you down onto him hard until he hit the back of your throat, and you let out a surprised whimper that was certainly way too loud for this quiet setting.

He immediately let go again, and you relaxed, moving your head back as you looked up at him. He was breathing heavily, his lips parted, his eyes moving around the room, before they looked into your direction again. You were but a trick of the light under the Disillusionment charm but it still felt as if he knew exactly where to look – and his dark stare gave you shivers all over. You moved your hands to press them left and right of his cock and continued your up and down bobbing, slowly increasing your pace.

You could taste him already. Inhaling deeply through your nose, you closed your eyes and kept your rhythm, until you felt him stiffening up. His hand was on your head again, and he held you tightly in place as he started bucking his hips into your mouth. You held back whimpers, clawing your fingers into his skin as you tried to stay steady on your knees. Tears burned behind your eyelids as he kept hitting the back of your throat forcefully.

And then he froze, his entire body going rigid, and a tiny, suppressed moan escaped him as his length twitched inside your mouth, pumping feverishly – spilling his seed, emptying everything he had into your mouth and down your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut at the sensation, gripping his thighs in support. Eventually he let go of your head and leaned back again, breathing hard, while his cock slipped out of your mouth, leaving a trail of cum strands on your tongue, lips and chin.

He filled you up good, and it took you several hard swallows to get it all down, before you started licking your lips and wiped the rest off your face with the back of your hand. You were breathing just as hard as he was, your heart pounding inside your chest. It took you a few moments to regain your composure and as you watched him, he had slumped down in the chair a little, his eyes closed, chest rising and falling fast – with a wide smirk on his lips.

When you moved in and licked the rest of his release off his length, his eyes flew open, and he watched you with a tilted head. You smiled an invisible smile. Once he was cleaned up, you gently put him back behind the constraints of his clothes, buttoning his breeches with shaking fingers until it looked as if nothing happened.

“Thank you, friendly ghost,” you heard him whisper quietly as his hand found your cheek under the table and caressed it softly. You leaned into his touch and then turned your head to place a kiss on his palm before you slowly moved back from between his legs and out of his reach again, smirking to yourself.

Notes:

Like our mc here, I woke up feeling naughty today and just had to write this scene. And I did so with the help of the amazing smut thesaurus by @prurientpuddlejumper - as a non-native English speaker it's always fun to add to my vocabulary and this guide (and also The Ultimate Guide to Writing Smut Fic) helped me so much. Can only recommend when you struggle to find words to describe anything really!

Also there is another part to this where the roles are reversed: PART 2 - The Sweet Revenge!

The Ghost under the Table (Part 1 and Part 2)

The Ghosts on the Table (Part 1 and Part 2)

Pictures credit:

(I have to be honest, I've saved so many screenshots of lover boy here and if there's no copyright on it, I really have no idea who I "borrowed" it from, so please forgive me and accept a list of my favorite screenshot providers of this fandom! <3 If you recognize your screen and are not on the list, please tell me, I'll add you right away!)

@dingdongdick @phinik @hogwartslegacypics @deathlysallows @purindaimaou @sinty2ek @shadesofgaunt

Thank you for your continuous services to fuelling our Sebastian obsession! I salute you!

[ghost-bxrd]

What are Talon!Dick's favorite memories of Jason?

Okay so this one took me a moment, but I think these are a couple (but not all!) of Dick’s key memories with Jason:

The day Dick found Jason during the snow fall. His whole life changed (once again) in the span of a few minutes as he found himself a purpose again. He still remembers how he showed off to Jason during the hike back to the nest, giving him his very first taste of “flying”, and how Jason laughed as they sailed across the rooftops.

The first time Jason tried to mimic Dick’s chirps. He definitely stared at him for a long while fighting back the urge to cry, because for Dick it meant Jason not only accepted him as his guardian, but also as part of the “flock”. It signified the beginning of them being a real family, and not Dick only being an asset to Jason’s survival.

Jason reading him the Chronicles of Narnia for the first time. Dick panicked when the witch took Edmund and was inconsolable until Jason told him he’d be reunited with his siblings and everything would be okay. That was also the first time Jason initiated a cuddle session.

The time Jason smuggled them into the movies to watch Pride and Prejudice. Dick didn’t like the movie too much, but he still remembers Jason radiating absolute happiness and joy the entire time and how Jason kept analyzing and comparing scenes from the book afterwards while they shared a chili dog Dick stole from a vendor.

The way Jason kept laughing when Bruce took him out as Robin for the first time and he got to swing between the buildings, checking behind himself every other second to make sure Dick is watching him do flips and complicated spins.

Jason trying to teach Bruce how to cook and somehow ending with Bruce covered head to toe with flour, raw eggs in Jason’s hair, and salty cake batter all over the floor, walls, and ceiling, and Alfred yelling at them both.

The first time Jason tried to make a nest for Dick.

Jason and Tim falling asleep leant against each other in the library. 📚🦉

[doodleimprovement]

Shiz Babysitters AU: An Adventure with Atlases

Premise: Elphaba is asked to 'babysit' Dorothy for a few hours, and the two of them bond in a way that Elphaba in particular didn't expect

Characters: Elphaba, Fiyero, Dorothy

AO3 Link: Read Here!

Author Notes: Woo! First Fiyeraba hint :)c Also some more insight on Dorothy's backstory in this AU

“Pleeeeeease?” 

Elphaba cannot believe what she is dealing with right now - a grown man, giving her “puppy dog” eyes and pleading for her to… babysit

“I have to finish a research project in the library” She flatly responded “I’ll be there all day. I thought you didn’t want her exposed?” 

“Oh, as if anyone bothers you in there!” He pointed out “Plus… I’ll admit she could use the time outside when it isn’t dark” 

Huh. Thoughtful of him. Weird. 

“And why do you need me to watch her again?” Elphaba asked one more time.

“I have to at least pretend to go to class this afternoon.” he lamented “I can’t get kicked out before finding a way to send Dot home - Didn’t you say you’d help me with that? I do recall such a thing coming from you, hm?” 

Well… he had her there. 

Elphaba sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Well? Can you?” 

“... Fine” 

Fiyero cheered, but stopped himself with a cough and a light laugh “I’ll drop her off to you in the mid-afternoon just before my class” 

Elphaba just huffed “Okay. I’ll be in the back” 

“Excellent! See you then, friend” He gave her one of his disarming smiles, and he turned on his heel down the hall. 

Elphaba just hoped she wouldn’t regret this. 

-

Little Dorothy Gale was a silent sort. At least, that was how it seemed. 

Once Fiyero had dropped her off, the little girl had watched forlornly as the prince left her behind, but thankfully she didn’t seem upset that she was left with Elphaba. Thank Oz. 

“Would you like something to read?” Elphaba offered. She knew that some of the books in this library were simple enough for young children to read, or at the least had some pretty pictures. But when Dorothy gave her a nervous look and a shake of the head, Elphaba didn’t need to read too deeply into what that meant. “Hm… How about..” Elphaba turned, and grabbed a card she kept on her person - with the key for the school library “Do you know what your home country looks like?”

Dorothy nodded, expression plainly curious. She was quite easy to read, thank the unnamed goddess. 

“Hm, then maybe we can make a little headway for Fiyero, hm?” 

Just the idea seemed to make the young girl's eyes sparkle like amber. It was adorable, even if her admiration for the Vinkun prince felt… ill-informed. 

Elphaba looked around the part of the library they were situated in, and motioned for Dorothy to follow her into the bookcases behind them, leading her to where some of the physically largest books in the library were. 

“Here. The Atlas section” She introduced with a wave of her hand past the various books. “Do you know what an atlas is?” 

Dorothy nodded “Mhm” 

“Smart. We’re going to look at a few of these and see if you can spot where you’re from. Is that alright?” Elphaba described her plan. 

Dorothy nodded again, looking at the books whose harcovers were so big they came up to her little shoulders. Elphaba grabbed two books, “THE COMPLETE ATLAS OF OZ AND BEYOND” and “WHAT LIES BEYOND THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE LANDS”. A good start, if nothing else. 

Elphaba took one book, and Dorothy rather valiantly dragged the other as carefully as she could behind her. Something about her determination reminded Elphaba of herself when she was young and eager to learn. 

She helped Dorothy open the first book to its first page of maps, and instructed “Check every map, and let me know if you see your home” Dorothy nodded to her, and gave all of her little 6-year-old focus to the book. 

And so, that was how they’d spent the next hour, until Elphaba heard the sound of the book shutting, and Dorothy letting out a disappointed huff. “No luck?” Elphaba looked over to her with a curious expression. 

Dorothy sighed, and shook her head “... No America in there” 

“America… Is that the name of the country you live in?” Elphaba asked, trying not to bring attention to the fact that this was the most Dorothy had ever said to her at once. 

“Uh-huh” She pushes the book away, looking a little disappointed “I’s really big” 

“Hm, and it wasn’t on any of those maps?” Elphaba questioned. Dorothy shook her head “Hm.. Alright. Try the next one - here-” 

Elphaba helped her open the book, and got her to the first mapped page “How about this? This is called the reaches, it's a rarely traveled to farland - any of this look familiar?” 

Dorothy looked carefully over the map, eyes scanning every latitude and longitude line. “... Mmh-mmh” 

“No?” 

“No..” 

Huh. Maybe Dorothy really didn’t know where on the map she was from. Elphaba turned the page, and Dorothy’s eyes widened “Wh- Laska!!” 

The surprised shout startled Elphaba, who quickly shushed her, and Dorothy shut her mouth “Laska?” 

“Ah-Alaska” Dorothy corrected, pointing to a large mass on the farthest map of the eastern reaches past the HellowLands. “It.. it looks like Alaska…” 

“... That’s very, very far, Dorothy.” Elphaba pointed out with some concern “Is Alaska a part of America?” 

She nodded “Nnnnnnorth… west” 

“Hm…” Mysterious

“... Really far?” The little girl parroted. 

“Yes, really far. Perhaps on the other side of the world” Elphaba explained “Perhaps even beyond it.. You *are* pointing to the BeyondLands, after all” 

“.... Beyond Lands…” 

“Yes, and lucky for you, there are a few atlases with those maps” Elphaba recalled “Are you ready to take another look?” 

Dorothy gave her a firm nod, and helped Elphaba with returning the atlases, carrying one of them as best she possibly could with her six-year-old strength. 

Elphaba - feeling a bit emboldened at how much Dorothy had already spoken, decided to inquire “.. Dorothy, might I ask you a question?” 

“.. Yes?” She looked up at Elphaba with a perfectly polite little expression. 

“Can you read?” 

The girl paused, suddenly looking rather sheepish, like she was keeping a secret. Elphaba stared, waiting for a response as they both sat back at the study table. 

“... A little” she admitted “Papa said I was real smart an’ he wanted me to read, so he started readin’ t’me before I could walk - Tha’s what Mama told me” 

“Oh? So you’re in school in Kansas?” 

She shook her head “If I was in Topeka, I woulda been. But in Butler county you gotta be seven to go to school” 

“Seven?” Elphaba sounded fascinated “That’s pretty old. Here in Oz you start school at 4 years old” 

The girl's eyes went wide “... Auntie Em said schools just to learn the simple stuff so you can help at home… but Mama said somethin’ different” 

Elphaba kept her expression as soft as she could - She knew that Dorothy had lost both of her parents rather recently - she had to walk Fiyero through how not to address the poor girl’s grief, and she was going to be following her own advice. 

“.. Mama said that if you can learn somethin’ new, you always should. She said that I should go t’college, learn everythin’ I can even if I don’t do anythin’ with it. Cause learning is good” Dorothy recited, as if she’d just heard her mother say it to her this morning. “She went to the Lindenwood College for Women up in Missouri, an said she wanted me to go there too” 

“Well, do you want to? Do you like to learn?” 

“I love to learn!!” Dorothy proclaimed, it was the loudest she’d ever been, and this was the most Elphaba had ever heard the girl talk, even if she was starting to look upset

“You don’t have to defend yourself” Elphaba shushed the girl gently “I love to learn too” 

Dorothy looked a little taken aback “.. Really?” 

“Yes, really” Elphaba reassured, trying to give the girl a smile. 

Something in Dorothy’s eyes was telling, and the girl just looked back down at her hands, fiddling with the lace detailing on her little dress. Elphaba could tell he was done speaking for now - she’d tired herself out. 

“... Come here, right next to me” Elphaba invited, pulling out the chair beside her. 

Dorothy gave her a curious look, but pulled herself out of the chair she’d been sitting at on the other side of the table, and walked over, climbing up while continuing to visually question what Elphaba wanted. Elphaba took one of the history books she’d been reading, and flipped back a few pages, starting with one full page illustration of one of the original kings of Oz, before putting her finger just below the first word, pointing 

“To be king of Oz was to rule over so many, it was to be seen as the endeavor of a god.” She started “but our first king taught us rather valiantly that it was actually just an endeavor of great and terrible magic…” 

-

By the time Fiyero rushed back into the library to get Dorothy, the girl was deeply engrossed in the history book that Elphaba had been reading her, and was starting to read long, slow but steady in her understanding 

“But-the-great-king-could-not-han-dle-some-thin’-so… horr-end-ib-lee?” 

“Horrendible” Elphaba corrected

“Oh? Have you brainwashed my dear little Dot?? She’s learning?” Fiyero teased with the biggest grin that Elphaba had ever seen. 

Dorothy looked up, and gave the man a big, excited grin “Yero!” She called out softly, bouncing down from the chair she’d been sitting in to run over to him, and he effortlessly grabbed her and picked her up, resting her on his hip. 

“How was your time with Elphie? Boring as I said?” He asked, pinching her cheek.

Dorothy shook her head “Nuh-uh!” 

“What? Not boring??” 

“She’s a voracious learner” Elphaba explained, her own smile on her face “She’s also very quick. Her reading is very impressive for someone her age.” 

The compliment made the little girl beam with pride, and Fiyero grinned at the child “Hah! You’re turning her into a nerd then?” 

“No need. She already was” Elphaba argued, clearly amused by the back and forth. 

Fiyero playfully looked offended “you’re turning her against me, Elphaba! How could you!” 

Elphaba rolled her eyes, but Dorothy gave him a worried look “Nuh-uh! No!” 

Fiyero laughed “Don’t you worry, Dot. I don't care if you become a nerd or not.” he reassured. 

“You can be a nerd too” She encouraged “Cause learnin’ is fun!” 

“Hah! I’m just fine with having nothing going on in my head, little Dorothy Gale” He teased, before looking over at Elphaba “Thank you again for watching her, Elph. I don’t like leaving her alone in the dorm, you understand” 

Elphaba gave him a slight smile, something knowing there “I do. Dorothy was a delight.” 

“She is, isn’t she?” the Vinkun prince grinned like… Well, Elphaba wasn’t about to say - the last time someone did he’d sputtered and the poor girl looked both confused and uncomfortable. 

“Well, I have to stay here and finish my report for class” Elphaba offered the goodbye, and Fiyero took it

“Ah, yes, and I have to make sure this little black hole gets dinner” He bounced the girl on his hip. “What's a black hole?” Dorothy asked with a curious furrow of her brow

Fiyero coughed awkwardly “Uh, later. I will explain later. Let’s go - say bye to Miss Elphaba!” 

Dorothy looked back over to Elphaba, and gave the woman a wave “Thank you, Missus Elphaba” 

“You’re welcome, Dorothy. Have a good evening. Both of you” 

“G’night, Elph, love ya for this!”

He had already turned around, and didn’t see the shocked and lit up face of Elphaba Thropp… But little Dorothy Gale did. 

[milfjuulpod]

Special

req: yes

can you write a Melissa x Reader where reader is the new VP of Abbott and she’s just the most professional person ever. She doesn’t wanna interact with the staff in any way that’s not professional, she’ll refer to them by last name, has lunches in her car, doesn’t try to socialize unless it’s Melissa. Melissa never notices but reader is always lingering to watch her, calls her by her first name, goes out of her way to make sure Mel is never inconvenienced by anything at Abbott. it’s not until maybe Janine or Jacob, hell Gregory even point it out that Mel notices and confronts the reader about it. Reader responds in like the cheesiest way possible, something like “i was down bad for you from the moment i saw you” and Melissa just m e l t s!!

warnings: none

A/N: hello again 🧛🏻‍♀️ i absolutely LOVED this request, so i hope you enjoy reading as much as i did writing :)) thank you for all the support !!

After earning yourself your graduate degree, and interning at schools all over, you found yourself at Abbott Elementary. Despite its hazards here and there, you loved it. You maintain your poise and passion for work each day, staying on task and doing everything you could to help. 

       Being the Vice Principal came with a lot of responsibilities, especially working for Ava Coleman. Over the school year, just like the rest of Abbott, you grew to love her—but that didn’t mean she didn’t give you a headache every week. “Can you not eat in your car for one day and just come with me to this brunch?” Ava begged, but you knew better. “Ms. Coleman, if you’re going on this brunch, somebody has to stay here. Besides, you’ll be fine. I’ve prepared your folder for you and you nailed rehearsals,” you encouraged her. 

       Ava was preparing for a brunch with some people from the district, and as much as you wanted to go and support her, you had to stay. “You’re right, I did kill that last rehearsal. I guess I’ll go alone,” the principal dramatized, and left for her lunch. Walking back, you decided to do a quick sweep before heading into your own office. No harm in checking on everyone, right? You passed Mrs. Howard’s door, noticing her students taking a nap. She saw you through the window, and the two of you exchanged smiles before you parted. 

        “Oh, hey Y/N! I had a question for you,” a small, but loud, voice was heard from behind you. “Hello Ms. Teagues, how can I help you?” You turned to greet her. “You know you can call me Janine, right?” The shorter teacher gave you a friendly smile, and continued.  “Anyways, I was thinking about doing a project with my students, they started this new book and are just loving it! Honestly I was a bit surprised, but I guess when the kids are with me-”

       “The question you had?” You interrupted her. As much as Janine had a soft spot in your heart, you had work to do and a lunch to half-eat. “Right, sorry. Do you think Friday we could use the library?” She asked, shooting you puppy dog eyes. “I don’t see why not. Let me touch base with our librarian that week and make sure, I’ll get back to you.” You answered. 

        “Yay! Okay, I gotta pick my kids up but, thank you!” She yelled as she started to pick up speed down the hallway. You shook your head and smiled to yourself as you continued your walk, but quickly stopped in your tracks. Melissa’s door was open. For whatever reason, Melissa was…different for you. You never interacted much with people from your work life, never have. With Melissa you still kept your physical distance, but that didn’t stop the thoughts in your head that always came back to her. 

       Nervously, you leaned against the door frame and took in her room. She sat in her chair at the front of the room, book in hand, reading to her class. Every few sentences she would pick her head up and glance at her students, and each time you got nervous she would catch you staring. “The vine was alive! It was a long green snake! The snake fell from the tree, it splashed in the water and swam away,” Melissa read aloud. You watched as one of her students stood up from their seat. “Does the snake get Jack? Or Annie?” He asked. “I don’t know hon, that’s why we have to keep reading,” Melissa said to him, and motioned for him to sit back down. 

        “Sorry Ms. Schemmenti,” he apologized, albeit quietly. “That’s alright, I know reading can be very exciting. But let’s regroup, okay?” She regained everyone’s attention so quickly, and you couldn’t help but watch in complete adoration for the woman. You completely missed two teachers walk right behind you. Melissa went to go back to reading, but her head snapped back up immediately as she saw you standing. She waved for you to come in, and continued on. You sat there for the next few minutes, until it was time for her students to go to lunch. “Jacob is coming to get my kids, give me a minute and then I wanna talk to ya,” Melissa said to you as she stood up to get her kids ready. 

         You couldn’t help but study her every movement, the way she walked, the way she bent down to talk to the kids, everything. She had you wrapped around her finger like it was nothing. Melissa was, without a doubt, the highlight of your day. Every day. “So,” she started, pulling you out of your trance. “I need the library on Friday. I’m getting my kids ready for the science fair this year and I wanna try some bigger stuff with them,” she said. You could see the excitement practically glowing off of her as she told you about her plans. How could you say no? “Yeah! That sounds great. If I have time, I’d love to come see what you guys end up doing,” You told her. 

       “Yeah hon, you should swing by. I’d like that,” She responded. You tried desperately to ignore the way your heart pounded when she called you that, and went to make your exit. “It’s a plan. I have to get back to work but, I’ll see you around, Melissa.” She waved goodbye to you, and you went back to your office stomach full of butterflies. 

       Melissa wasn’t far behind you, although she was going in a different direction. She grabbed her things and headed towards the break room for her own lunch. “I’m not saying I don’t like her! I really like her, I just think it’s strange she still won’t call me Janine.” Melissa heard a voice she tried to ignore. She smiled or waved to those around, and made her way to sit down and eat. “She calls all of us by our last names, even Ava. She’s not social with us either, one time I think I saw her working and eating in her car. Are we not fun to be friends with?” Jacob frantically asked. 

       “No,” Melissa said in time with Ava, who was just walking in. “Are y’all talkin bad about my little helper?” She asked. Melissa, against her better judgment, chimed in. “She’s the Vice Principal, not just your little helper.” Ava sported a cheeky grin, noticing how that got under her skin. “Whatever, anyways, I came in here to tell you actually that the library is yours on Friday,” The principal continued her conversation with Melissa, although Janine was quick to say something. “Wait, what? I just talked to Y/N, and she said I could have the library,” she said frantically. “No, I just talked to her, she said I could have it. Sorry kid,” Melissa retorted. “Just because you’re her favorite, doesn’t mean you should get privileges,” Janine tried to say quietly, but she wasn’t quiet enough. “I am not her favorite! She doesn’t have favorites, she doesn’t like any of us,” Melissa argued. She turned her body more towards the table in front of her and crossed her arms. 

       “Oh come on Melissa, you don’t notice?” Janine poked. When she got no response, everybody decided to help paint the picture. “She calls you by your name. Your first name,” Janine told her. “She gave you the library over Janine,” Jacob added. “I saw her outside your classroom for like, five minutes today,” Gregory finished. Melissa was too stunned to say anything, both at everyone noting your behavior towards her, and the fact that she missed all of this. You didn’t wanna socialize with everyone, but everyone didn’t mean Melissa. 

       “Okay, okay, I’ll go figure it out. Sorry,” The redhead shot Janine an apologetic look as she walked out the door once again. Melissa felt her palms get sweaty as she got closer to your office. Now that she knew about all her little privileges with you, she didn’t want to say something and ruin it. Besides, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, Melissa enjoyed the rare company you brought her. As she approached your door, Melissa took a deep breath in. After a quick mental pep talk, she knocked gently. Upon hearing your, “Come in,” she opened the door as slowly as she could. 

       Lifting your head to look at the door, your face lit up at the sight. “Oh! Hi Melissa, what’s up?” You asked her. Melissa closed the door behind her, and took a seat across from you. When she didn’t answer, you leaned in a bit closer and furrowed your eyebrows at her. Melissa couldn’t meet your gaze, and you hated it. “What’s going on?” You asked quietly. 

       “Why am I special?” Melissa blurted out. The both of you looked at each other, surprised at what she had just said. “I…I’m not sure what you mean by that,” you lied. “You told Janine she could have the library, and then went and gave it to me. You call me ‘Melissa’ but everyone else is last names only. And I can’t prove it, but I’m pretty sure I’m the only person you buy coffee for once a week,” the older woman explained. You felt cheeks turn as red as Melissa’s hair when she said all this to you, and now it was your turn to avoid eye contact. “Hon?” She pushed when you didn’t reply. 

      After a deep breath, you spoke. “I don’t know. I don’t know what it is about you Melissa but my god. From the first day I got here I…I can’t keep my eyes off you when we’re in the same room. I want to do everything I can to make your day easier or better or just to see you smile. Everything I do here is for you. You’re special, that’s it. And I like you that way.” When you finally looked back up, you saw tears forming in the green eyes across from you. 

        “You…you really mean that?” Melissa asked you, like she almost believed everything you said. “Yes!” You let out a defeated laugh, tears forming in your own eyes out of embarrassment. “Of course I mean it. What made you decide to bring this up today?” 

       Melissa shifted in her seat. “It was brought to my attention today, that I may or may not be your favorite,” she admitted. She tried to hide the smile that was forming, but it was clear she was happy to be your favorite person. You sighed, “Well, you are. I’m sorry that it’s affecting work now,” You slid your chair back a bit and started to mess with papers on your desk. “Woah woah woah, don’t get all sad on me now. I never said it was a bad thing,” Melissa said, reaching across the desk to stop your hand from moving another paper. You tilted your head in confusion, which led to Melissa giggling at you. She stood up from her seat and walked around your desk, turning your chair to face her.

       “I think I like being your favorite,” Melissa said in a much lower voice than you’ve ever heard from her. She rested her hands on either side of your chair, faces so close your noses were almost touching. You looked from her eyes to her lips, fighting internally which one to stare at. “Yeah?” You asked, so quietly you weren’t sure she heard you. Melissa nodded her head and when you did the same, she finally closed the distance and you were wrapped in the sweetest kiss you had ever felt. 

        After a few more kisses from Melissa, she finally pulled away. “I’m sorry it took me so long to notice,” She mumbled. You took her hands in yours and played with her fingers. “Don’t be, if anything I’m sorry it took me so long to actually do something about it,” You joked, which thankfully the older woman did find funny. “I think I was the one who did something about it,” Melissa corrected you. “Okay, fine. But either way, I’m glad you brought it up. Would you, maybe, want to kiss me again sometime? After dinner together?” Even though Melissa had just kissed you, you were so nervous about asking her out. 

      “I would love to, but I might kiss you before then.”

[creatingnikki]

What I've learned in 2023 (part I)

i. Compatibility is what you are looking for. A compatible home, a compatible partner, a compatible workplace, a compatible friend circle. Compatible with who you are as a person and the kind of life you want to live. Compatible so that you don’t constantly have to use so much of your energy in trying to fight unnecessary battles simply to exist how you are. When the spaces you are in and the people you are with are not compatible with your existence the way it is, the way you want it to be, there will be constant chaos, distress, and conflict for which you will have to use so much energy. But if you are in compatible spaces with compatible people – not ideal, not perfect, simply compatible – then you can use that energy towards creating and building things that matter to you. Because your everyday choices? They are not being questioned, judged, or blocked.

ii. Lessons will keep repeating themselves until you've learned them. So you have to start paying attention. Realizations in themselves are not lessons learned. Change in actions and thought processes is. So, yes, lessons will keep repeating themselves until you learn them. And even once you have learned them. It's like with how we learned the same subjects in school year after year. Just because you learned Geography in grade 5, does not mean you still did not have to in grades 6, 7, 8, and so on. Life lessons too have additional layers, context, and depth. It can all feel very Sisyphean. But the boulder is never the exact same twice. Similar but not identical.

iii. Just because he was a puppy before, does not mean he is not a कुत्ता (dog) right now.

iv. 인연 (in-yeon) is the fate specific to the meeting of two people, the ties two people share over the course of their lives. Someone you have perhaps comes across in your past life/lives in various capacities. And so, yes, when you come across someone you feel comfortable with, can have meaningful conversations with effortlessly, feel a ‘connection’ with, feel the 인연 with it feels special. But 인연 is also the fate of this life. Maybe in this life you’re only meant to share this very limited, very brief, 인연 with someone. Even if you feel this deep connection. Maybe in this life they are not meant to be your soulmate or your best friend. Maybe they are only meant to be your professor or your neighbour. Let it be so. Accept that fate, accept this life’s 인연 with them. No matter the intensity of the connection. Again, let things run their natural course. There is no other way.

v. I am an open book that even a blind man can read. An open book so heavily and aesthetically self-annotated that people can play me like a fool just for shits and giggles. And while I have started to appreciate humour a lot more in life, I am not okay with my candidness, earnestness, and vulnerability being mocked, manipulated, or misused. I am still not clear on how to protect myself in this aspect but I do know two things clearing — first, forcing myself to change who I am at my most authentic core is not the answer. Second, there, however, does need to be some protection. Think of yourself like a special edition, rare precious book in a fancy, restricted-access library. Only members, who loves books, who value books, who take great care of them, and have a track record of doing so can borrow the book/check it out of the library. Essentially, you must be more mindful of who gets access to you. And like you can continue being your real, authentic self, but you do not have to be that all the time and with everybody.

vi. Speaking about vulnerability, let's talk about the semantics of it for a bit. It's The word 'vulnerability' is derived from the Latin word 'vulnus' which literally means — the ability to wound. Why? Why would you do that with people you don't yet know well + trust to be safe? That's why one of the lessons of this year is the realization to get rid of this blanket vulnerability. It's not some sort of strength, it's simply dangerous.

vii. On that note, conversations, even emotional conversations cannot be an indicator of the actual real (lasting) comfort and intimacy and trust between you and the other person. That only happens naturally over time.

viii. So, yeah, timing and time? It is your friend; not a bitch. Allow people and things time to run their course and reveal themselves to you. There’s no need to feel anxious or responsible to make things with somebody flow a certain way because at the end of the day, no matter what you say or do, things will pan out the way they are meant to. So, trying to rush things, trying to lowkey orchestrate them, or putting so much thought into things like how you’re punctuating your texts is futile. What is meant to be is meant to be and feeling FOMO when it comes to people and relationships only really happens when you create elaborate scenarios in your head before even getting to know somebody.

ix. Capturing everything more in videos instead of pictures is precious. That motion of your friend kissing your cheek and that motion of the street cat moving her tale in and out of the sunshine falling on the ground is what you really want to capture and look back on.

[june1109]

Honeysuckle’s don’t cover the devils scent

[part 1/?]

Chrollo x Librarian!Fem!Reader

Description: Reader owns a Library in a small village on a tiny island. Chrollo is looking for a specific book to read. He goes to the library looking for the book on several occasions each time it was checked out on the upside (or is it?)he starts to take a liken to a certain librarian.

Backstory: Reader was a hunter but gave up on her dreams when she was 17 (She’s not a good fighter but does know a lot about nen) not wanting to waste the rest of her life she just decided to settle down and make memories in the village.

Warnings: !!!None so far just bad writing!!!

My fingers grazed over titles of books I knew by heart. I found the place the novel went and put the book about astronomy in its rightful place. I stood back up my oversized cardigan lifting from the floor. My feet sluggishly moved to the children’s section putting toys and coloring pages away until I heard the bell chime admittedly lighting my mood. A young stranger in an even stranger outfit.

(Change of POV)

There were finger puppets and pencils scattered on a tiny table. It piqued my interest but also worried me that this was a children’s library. A young woman approached me. Her hair [Unless you don’t have any :/] was (h/l) and a beautiful (h/c). She wore a big cardigan and pants that where too big and a little stained perhaps was paint or spilled food with a plain black top with pieces of white fur maybe a dogs but most likely a cat’s fur [he isn’t interested in her I just think that Chrollo would analyze everyone when he first meets them just to clarify].

“Hi, Can I help you with anything? I’m the librarian you can call me (Y/n). it’s a pleasure meeting you we don’t get a lot of visitors being the only village on a tiny unpopular island” She stuck her hand out it was littered with colorful bracelets and on the non dominant hand had additional doodles.I decided to accept the hand shake.

“My name is chrollo and I would like to check out a book called immortality is the Dilemma and savior of life.” [This is a book title I just made up but it’s basically about a vampire trying to escape the cage of immortality while a young man is hunting the vampire trying to gain mortality] I looked in her (E/c) reading them only to find nothing.

“Of course let me check if we have that for ya” (Y/n) walked behind the front desk entering the title.

“Oh shucks it looks like it’s checked out I’m so sorry, but would you like to stay for tea anyway?” I look down contemplating the offer of tea. I’m not busy and I have run out of tea and I am craving tea right now. I suppose it won’t be so bad.

“I don’t see why not” I sat down and a normal table unlike the tiny table across the library.

“What kind of tea would you like?” They probably don’t have many Judging by how small the town is.

“Anything is fine” I looked around the Libary more it was very small but not cramped. There was a kids section and they had computers. There was even a garden outside and a donation box. Oh how interesting humans are. Some are so generous well others are greedy and rotten to the core.

“Do you like milk and sugar in your tea?” Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“I would like a little teaspoon or so of sugar and no milk please and thank you” I smile softly to (Y/n). She is quite interesting.

I watched as leaves left the trees almost poetically as I waited. “So Chrollo where are you from?

“I’m just from a small island” I smile gently watching her face for anything.

“Really? That’s nice” We sat there for around an hour and a half having a decent conversation before screaming children in dragon onesies came stumbling through the door. There trainers rub dirt onto the carpet before walking in. This is quite a lively place for a Libary.

“Oh sorry I’m gonna go take care of those little dragons.” She sat down her cup. Straightening her shirt as she walked to the loud children with a general warm smile on her face [Y’all have a face right? If not L to you ig]. It made my heart warm seeing such kindness.

A/N

This is more of a pilot [which is why it’s so short] to see if I should actually write a story and if I’m any good because it would be my first so I’ll continue if this gets likes or someone suggests me to continue [which probably won’t happen]

[happykinzz]

Marble Hornets as Parents Headcanons

welcome to my delusional ramblings

Jay

Is defiantly one of those nervous Dads

He'll turn around and his kid will be on top on the kitchen counter and he'll have to use all the life force in his body to run over there and stop them from falling off

Listens very intently to his baby's rambles and often responds with general feedback

"Gago babwa chuuu" "Yeah that's a pretty weird dog isn't it?"

You know he signed up for one of those "Mommy and Me" classes where the parents and the baby do arts and crafts and stuff together

He's a regular at them and all the Moms there enjoy his and the baby's company

Alex

Is very hands on with his parenting

Diaper need changed? Done. Baby's crying? Bring them over here. You want a cookie? Take two.

Some may think he's not enthusiastic about his kid but thats further from the truth.

He just wants the absolute best for his baby.

Many times he'll over work himself with the baby and someone (usually Jay) will have to step in and try to get him to rest.

He will be like this during the child's baby phase, but as the child grows older he'll loosen up more.

Maybe he'll even crack a few corny Dad jokes ;)

Jessica

Also a very nervous parent.

But a very good one at that!

I think she would take her baby on long car rides just for the heck of it.

Also takes her kid out to a lot of fun stuff like Children's Museums and Aquariums :)

Is big on her kid having imagination and creativity in their life

Will spend a lot of time playing with her kid to encourage this.

Also reads to her kid a lot, they have a little "library" at the house where her kid will "check out" books

Overall a very good Mom who is giving her kid a great childhood :))

Tim

Papa Bear

If you even mildly inconvenience his baby he will at the very least give you the stink eye

Like Jessica, he's big on his kid having a childhood where playing and books are a big thing

When his kid is a newborn, 9 times out of 10 you will find him lying down with his baby sleeping on his chest, will also act like you're interrupting an important meeting as well

"Do you mind?" "You're gonna wake my baby."

Has his kid "help out" with chores when they're a little older ( they picked up little pieces of dust off the floor )

His heart breaks whenever he hears his little baby cry, many times he'll end up crying too

Has a tender voice when his talks to his child

Brian

A very cool Dad

Plays with his kid a lot, and like Alex he will meet his baby's needs in anyway possible

Has a sixth sense when it comes to his child, like he'll know his kid will need something before they even ask

Has one of those baby carriers that go on your chest and uses it all the time

Will crack Dad jokes before his kid can even comprehend the concept of human language

If his kid gives him something he will most defiantly keep it, he ends up having a whole box full of the little trinkets and drawings the kid has given him over the years.

Is super supportive of whatever activity the kid wants to pursue,

Just imagine one of those toddler flag football games where no one knows what the heck they're doing. and you jut hear the most elated man ever cheering from the crowd like it's the NFL

"THAT'S MY KID!!!!" "DID YOU SEE THAT?!?!" "MY KID MADE A GOAL!!!"

[theee-collector]

Teen Wolf Librarian AUs

A collection of Sterek fics where one of them is a librarian (most play in a library themselves)

This is Lovecantrophy by orphan_account

12.1K | Sterek | Teen

In which Valentine's Day is closely approaching, and Derek is a disgruntled grad student who works at a library. He's hit a roadblock on his thesis, he's harboring a (not so secret) crush on Stiles, and he keeps receiving werewolf-themed gifts from a secret admirer. Basically, Derek is totally oblivious and angsty, Stiles does a lot of planning off-screen, and Erica and Scott are awesome friends who are awesome.

Unknowing First Date by gayderek

1.2k | Sterek | General

Derek doesn't share, but for some reason he lets the mystery boy sitting across from him borrow his headphones. Turns out that the Mystery Boy isn't mysterious at all. He's kind of annoying, but he's kind of cute too.

You're the piece that I just found out how to fit to by pseudofoucault333

23.2k | Sterek | Explicit

Stiles is known as the tattooed reference Librarian, the somewhat reluctant crush of most teenagers in Beacon Hills and the son of the Sheriff. Derek is the new Deputy in town who has a history of heartbreak. Will Stiles' persistence pay off to help him get Derek to trust him and will Derek finally admit to himself that not everyone looks at him and sees a pretty face?

Inside this place is warm by wolfcloaks

40k | Sterek | Explicit

Coming down; One love, two mouths  Stiles Stilinski: -Senior at Berkley -Double majoring in Human Biology and Biomedical Engineering -Student Librarian -Closet Artist -Basket case extrodanaire -Hopelessly crushing on Derek Hale (read as: pining) Derek Hale: -Grad Student at Berkley -Philosophy Major -Dog enthusiast -Does not cry during The Notebook, fuck you,Laura -Is definitely not pining over the librarian with the cute moles -Would very much like to tell the librarian's curly haired boyfriend to fuck off Or Where Derek and Stiles are complete dweebs in love and jump to horribly inaccurate conclusions Or When your meet-cute turns into a bit of an (light) angst fest but it's all ok in the end

Hale's Library & Coffee Shop by scarlettletterr

3.8k | Sterek | Mature

College Student Stiles is looking for a place to work - so he can pay his bills - when his friend from class, Erica, mentions that her boss is looking for someone to help at Hale's Library and Coffee Shop. Stiles gets the job, along with a giant crush on his boss, Derek, that seems obvious to anyone but him.

Don’t Judge a Book by its Cover by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

6.1k | Sterek | General

“Hi,” Stiles said jovially with a bright smile. “How can I help you?” For a few seconds, hot, sexy guy said nothing. He just stared at Stiles like he’d never seen another human being before. Eventually, after a sufficiently long and awkward silence, hot, sexy guy had said, “I’m looking for a book.” “Sure thing!” Stiles had then waited. Because—he worked in the public library, so someone coming in asking for a book was normal, but only asking for a book with no other details was a little too vague. “Um, I’m gonna need you to be a little bit more specific,” he’d informed him. “Right.” Hot, sexy guy had looked flustered, some of his murderous aura dissipating.

Checking You Out by wherearethebreaks

7k | Sterek | General

Usually, the people who actually did come into the library used the computers. Usually, Derek could just sit at the small table behind the circulation desk and spread out his papers and get his homework done. But not that day. Oh no. No, some random guy just barged in, doors slamming loudly behind him, tripped over a display for some new books they'd gotten, and didn't sign in, (which, who doesn't know that you have to sign in during school hours?) all before running, running, into the non-fiction shelves. Who runs in the library? Who doesn't sign in? The librarian who usually had to deal with the rowdy and unruly teens that often wandered inside to talk loudly with their friends, was in the bathroom. Meaning, Derek was the one who was going to have to deal with this kid. Something he'd never really done before; therefore, didn't know how to deal with. "Uh, excuse me?" A.K.A: Derek is a library student aid and loves the peace and quiet, a quiet that is interrupted by a fellow student that Derek has to kindly deal with. To bad the guy's a total cutie that shows up the next day, and the one after that to ask him out.

You taste so bitter and so sweet by EmmisaryStilinski22

5.2k | Sterek | Not rated

Dear 402, Your two dogs woke me up every night this week at 4 am! Please silence your hounds from hell! Regards, 403

Dog Days of Summer by CarnalCoffeeBean

1.9k | Sterek | General

Beacon Hills, as it turns out, is actually boring as hell. Or, the one in which summer is boring, Derek accidentally becomes a library volunteer, Lydia and Erica get shit done, Stiles researches werewolves, and multiple people trip, stumble, and fall flat on their faces on their way towards something resembling love.

Special Collections by hannah_baker

16.4k | Sterek | Explicit

Stiles Stilinski is a senior in college working on his thesis. Derek Hale is the grumpy (though inhumanely attractive) special collections librarian. All they needed was a common interest to spark a friendship that becomes more than either of the bargained for.

Can I get Your (call) Number, baby by lielabell

4.9k | Sterek | Teen

Thing is, for the most part, Stiles's loves his job. He loves the quiet hush of the library, the way it smells like must and old books. He likes walking through the stacks, collecting books to be shelved. Likes sitting at the reference desk, hell, he even likes the fact that they still have a card catalog, even though no one ever uses it. Everything about the job is amazing. Except... Except for the music majors.

Stacking up by bravelittlesoldier

8.2k | Sterek | Teen

Stiles is working in the basement of the Library of Congress and is feeling his social skills quickly deteriorate. Then along comes a new librarian working at Circulation who is most definitely a male model. Maybe its time to start re-socializing.

Librarians Always Know What To Say by codarra

1.1k | Sterek | General

Derek comes into the library where Stiles works. A lot. Only he doesn't know Stiles' name. And he's fairly certain Stiles doesn't know Derek exists.

Baby, I'm yours by yodasyoyo

4k | Sterek | Teen

Honestly, Derek Hale didn’t think he could be surprised anymore at the things you see working behind the circulation desk of the university library. He thought he’d seen it all. There’s a guy that comes in on Thursdays that carries a kitten in his bag and thinks Derek doesn’t know. There’s another guy that comes in every other day or so to catch a nap in a secluded corner. And then there’s the couple that Derek’s had to kick out three times now for having sex in the stacks. There’s this one guy that has, by far, expanded Derek’s list of strange happenings in the library. He only knows the guy’s name because he has to come to Derek to check out his books and it shows up on the computer but it’s not actually anything Derek can pronounce so it doesn’t really help. Anyway, Unpronounceable-first-name Stilinski is always up to something.

#librarynerd by yodasyoyo

7.7k | Sterek | Teen

“I’ll likely get far more done in the group if I’m not distracted watching you with your pen--” “My--My pen?” “Pens. Drinking straws. Don’t act like you don’t know,” Derek says darkly. “You know.” ____________ In which Stiles follows Scott into his Spanish study group, takes one look at the hot nerd who runs it and then decides to stay... even though he doesn't actually speak Spanish.

Old you in the garbage(new you in display case) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)

13.5k | Sterek | Teen

Stiles is lonely and desperate and suffering from a crush on the grumpiest librarian. So what’s a boy to do but cook up a ridiculous plan to get himself dated and/or finally get laid before the holidays? He just wants his She’s All That moment, okay? He never expected that the plan would actually help him get the guy.