#ok i can get why sophie's always talking about his eyes i would too if my crush/bf looked like that

[lalalin-imacancer]

Remember in the first book, after mid-terms Keefe gives Fitz a tunic that says "I know what you're thinking... And you should be ashamed of yourself" or something like that

Yeah, this is it.

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine this: having four kids with logan au

Overhearing Logan helping your son when he's struggling

note: I think this will be a continuous imagine with just little situations with the family it will have the 'having four kids with logan au' tag

Theo, was your oldest son, he was now 15, he looked a lot like Logan, though he had your eyes and you couldn't believe that your baby not your baby anymore. He'd been extra emotional lately, taking his anger out on you, Logan, and his younger siblings.

Logan knew he had to prepare for this if he had children, his anger issues would most likely pass on. But he also knew that the anger was misdirected, that there was something wrong and he was asking for help. So, when Theo marched into the house, throwing his bag down, heading downstairs to his room and slamming the door shut. His younger brother, Parker, sighed looking over at his brother before going into a kitchen for his afternoon snack. You went after him, going down and knocking on his door.

"Leave me alone!"

"Baby-." You tried.

"I don't want to talk to you." Theo spat.

"Well I'm here if you do, alright?" You didn't hear anything from the other side, your heart breaking a bit as you turned to see your youngest, Sophie, she was three and she moved over to you. She had the biggest heart, and she was really close with Theo.

"Is Teo sad?" She asked, pointing at the door from the top of the stairs.

"He just needs some alone time, baby."

You brought Sophie to the living room, setting her up at her dollhouse and a snack, she knew to keep her snack at the top of her doll house so your dog, Charlie, wouldn't be able to reach it.

Your middle child, Valley, would be getting picked up by Logan on his way home from work. She always stayed after school to spend time with her friends, or going home to play with them. Some days you picked her up to bring her friend's home or if she had low energy. But she was the most social child, but you also understood her on a different level as she struggled with social cues or 'saying the right thing'. She found her group though; she always did and you'd always be there to guide her through it. Hopefully she can do the same for Sophie, though you would always be there for her too.

She rushed through the door and Logan stepped in after her, taking off his boots before following behind her. "Hey baby." He grinned, coming over to and wrapping an arm around you to pull you and kiss your lips.

"Hey, can you go check on Theo?" You pressed, your eyes scanning his, he understood the look in your eyes, leaning in to kiss your cheek. He goes over to Sophie, before crouching as she talked him about the doll in her hand, he kisses her head before standing up. As he started towards Theo's room, Parker skidded in front of his dad and started going on about soccer practice tonight. Logan volunteered to coach for his team.

"Hey, bud, we can talk about this on the way to soccer alright?" Logan started as Parker went on to talk, a look of defeat came over your son's face. Then Logan clapped him on the shoulder and looked down into his eyes, "Maybe we'll practice your drill, tonight."

"Really?" Parker's eyes lit up, as he smiled over at his dad. Your chest ached a bit as you knew Logan never wanted any of his kids to feel left out or less loved than another. You knew you had the same worry, it's the reason why you decide four kids rather than five. Logan didn't want more than three and Sophie was a very wanted oops. It just seemed like the missing piece of the puzzle. So even though your fantasies were filled with more children, now you couldn't imagine having any more.

Parker came into the living room, getting his video games set up as he rested on the couch. You went downstairs to start on laundry and also overhear little parts of the conversation Logan and Theo were having. You knew that Logan would fill you in later but your worry sadly outweighed privacy. It wasn't something you were proud of, and you were working on it.

"Theo, you're our baby, you are the one who truly started this family, I love you with all of my heart, you are strong, and you're going to live a happy long life. You kids are everything to me and your mom, something I'll never know how to truly express. I know you don't wanna upset mom but she'd understand what your going through."

"I-I just don't know why I feel this way." Theo cried.

"Your mom and I have always struggled with mental illness, and we aren't here for a lack of trying. All you have to do is try, alright?"

"Okay."

"How about we go for a walk in the morning?"

"That sounds good." Theo murmured, before their voices faded, as you started the dryer before grabbing a laundry basket and walking up the stairs just as Theo's door opened and Logan walked out. As you turned your head, his eyebrow quirked up as a small smile came over his face as he shook his head. He definitely knew you were eavesdropping.

"I'll look up some therapists, tonight." You said, softly as Logan got to the top of the stairs as you leant down to put the basket on the floor. His arms wrapped around you, and he pulled you tightly, his head in the dip of your neck.

"Are you upset?" He asked, his voice calm and soft.

"No, I'm just glad he opened up to you." You breathed, rubbing at his forearm as he started swaying the two of you back and forth.

"Mom! Sharlie got my crackers!" Sophie yelped from the living room, as Logan chuckled as you sighed, he kissed your cheek before letting you go. As you started towards the living room, you turned to see Logan grab the laundry basket before heading towards your room down the hall.

"Coming baby!"

[canirove]

The Princess & the Football Player | Chapter 3

Author's note: Yes, the Charles on this chapter is Leclerc 😅 But think of him as his version from an alternative universe where he isn’t a F1 driver, just very posh 😁

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"Look at you. You look gorgeous, darling."

"Thank you, mum.”

"And you are wearing red, Charles favourite colour."

"Oh, please, don't start" I complain.

"Don't start what?"

"Trying to convince me to date him again. It isn't happening."

"Why not?"

"Have you forgotten that he cheated on me? Several times? That he was constantly partying and doing God knows what?"

"He doesn't do that anymore, his mother told me. He has reformed and wants to settle down, focus on his job and start a family."

"Good for him. But it won't be happening with me."

"What won't be happening with you?" my dad asks.

"Nothing. Should we go? We can't be late" I say, starting to walk towards the door.

"Do I want to ask?" I hear him whisper.

"It's nothing, just her stubbornness" my mum replies.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━      

"Eleanor!"

"Roberta" I say, hugging her. "Look at you, this dress is amazing!"

"It is, isn't it?" she replies, doing a twirl.

"Valentino?"

"Yep. Gotta support my country's fashion. And speaking of my country... The duke is here."

"Damiano?"

"The very same."

Duke Damiano, or the guy I had a very steamy summer fling last year, one that made it to all the newspapers and gossip sites.

"Are you going to talk to him?" Roberta asks.

"I shouldn't, my parents would kill me. The only man I'm allowed to talk to tonight is Charles" I say, rolling my eyes.

"I've heard he wants to settle down and find a wife."

"Yeah, that's what my parents also said. But he can keep looking, because I'm not her."

"You aren't who?" someone with an Italian accent says behind me.

"Charles' future wife" I reply. "It's good to see you again, Damiano."

"You too, princess" he says, kissing my hand. "Why are your parents still wanting you to marry that... boy?"

"Who knows" I shrug. "I didn't know you were coming today."

"It was a last minute thing. My mother insisted that I should come because the Spanish princess is also here."

"Parents" I chuckle.

"Indeed."

"Why don't we get ourselves something to drink, uh? It will help us deal with all this" Roberta says, looking around. 

I haven't had time to take a second sip of my drink, when I see him coming towards us. Charles. 

We've known each other since we were kids, my family always spending the summer at his family's huge house in Monaco. And since I can remember, they've told us we are destined to be together. I guess that's one of the reasons why we started dating a few years ago, because everyone kept saying it was meant to be. That, and because like Sophie said, he's stupidly handsome. I think I have never seen a more perfect face. 

"Evening, ladies. Duke" he says.

"Evening, Charles" Damiano replies. "I better go find that Spanish princess. It was a pleasure seeing you again, Eleanor" he says, kissing my hand again while giving me his most mischievous smile.

"Was that really necessary?" Charles scoffs.

"I don't know what you are talking about" I say, taking another sip of my drink. But I know pretty well that Damiano did that to piss him off. They never got along, and what happened last summer didn't help.

"Anyway, would you like to dance?"

"Nope."

"Ok... Then’t let’s talk."

"We are already talking.”

"Woke up with the wrong foot today?" he chuckles.

"I don't know. Maybe" I shrug.

"What about you, Roberta? You look very pretty today."

"Thank you" she says, using the same bored tone I used. 

"Fine, message received. You don't want to talk to me" Charles sighs. But as he is about to leave, my dad shows up.

"Charles, hello" he says, giving him a pat on the back. One that almost sends him flying across the room.

"Your majesty."

"How are you? How are the businesses going?"

"Good, good."

"That's great. Has Ellie told you about Canada?"

"Canada?" Charles asks.

"She's going there to support our boys at the World Cup."

"Oh, football. I'm not the biggest fan" he chuckles.

"France is one of the favourites" I say.

"I am not French" he replies. People have always mistakenly called him French despite being from Monaco, and it bothers him so much.

"Once you are there, do you think you could give Marcus Rashford my number?" Roberta says.

"What?" I chuckle. "Aren't you coming too?"

"I am. But they may not allow me to meet the players, and he seems so nice and lovely with everything he does to help people... And I also find him very hot."

"Fit. He's fit, right?" 

"Dad, what did we say about that word?" 

"Oh, yes, sorry” he laughs. “The one Eleanor finds handsome and attractive is Declan Rice, tho."

"I what?" I say, almost choking with my own words.

"You thought I didn't notice the way you were looking at him, uh?" he laughs again. "Eleanor, I'm your father."

"Who is this person with food as his surname?" Charles asks.

"No one" I say, my cheeks definitely the same colour as my dress.

"Oh, there is Alfred. Gonna go say hello. Bye" my dad says, acting as if nothing had just happened.

"Do you fancy that guy?"

"I don't fancy anyone, Charles. My dad was just being stupid. As usual."

"Yeah, sure" he says, giving me a suspicious look. "Anyway, since I'm not very welcomed here, I'm gonna see if I can find some of my actual friends. Ladies" he says with a little bow before disappearing among the crowd.

"Who is this Declan and why haven't you told me about him?" Roberta asks me.

"He's... He's one of the national team players I met the other day. One who is super handsome, and nice, and like my dad would say, fit. Very fit. And I... I have a huge crush on him."

"But is it a crush like when you fancy a famous person, or is it like a crush crush?"

"It is a crush crush. We flirted a bit, and I felt butterflies on my stomach every time he smiled at me. And we touched once, just barely, but... Dear God, Roberta. I can't remember the last time I felt something like that. Or if I've ever felt it, to be honest."

"Eleanor..."

"I know, I know. I'm fucked" I sigh. And in just a week, I'll be flying across the pond to support him and his teammates, definitely having to see him and spend time with him. What could go wrong?

[motownfiction]

dream

Whenever they take trips – and as a family of eight, it’s not often – Will and his sisters always tell each other what they dreamt about on the first night away from home. It’s something their mom started when Rachel, the sister born right after Will, was about three. She had a hard time adjusting to different environments, and talking about dreams, hearing the silliness, learning new stories … it made her feel better. Will remembers how it made him feel better, too.

Being away from home doesn’t usually bother Will. His room in the basement gets boring, and he likes to find out what other places have in store. So, when Dad announces they all have to drive to some tiny town in Indiana because one of their distant cousins in Indiana is getting married, Will doesn’t hesitate. Maybe it’ll be a weird redneck wedding, but who cares? Mom’s going to take them to see James Dean’s headstone, and if Will gets a good picture, Lucy will love him for it.

The O’Connors stay at a great aunt’s house before the wedding. Sarah complains because she has to sleep on a terribly hard and uncomfortable couch, but at least she doesn’t have to sleep on a weird egg crate foam like Will. He doesn’t do much sleeping, though he does remember his dream. And he can’t wait to share it.

At breakfast, Will nudges Rachel with a piece of bacon.

“Hey, Rach,” he says. “What did you dream about last night?”

Rachel makes a face.

“Are we doing this?” she asks. “I thought we were done with that.”

“Why would we ever be done with it?” Will asks. “Like. Hey, watch this. Hey! Sarah! What did you dream about last night?”

“I dreamt I was forced to marry that kid in your class, the tall redhead,” Sarah says. “What’s his name again?”

“Kevin.”

“Yeah, him. And if you tell that to anyone, I will kill you and bury you next to James Dean. You hear me? James Dean.”

“I don’t think James Dean was the threatening part of that sentence, but OK.”

Will turns back to Rachel.

“See?” he says. “Sarah’s cooler than all of us, and if she can tell us what she dreamt about, you can, too.”

“Yeah, Rachel!” Sophie, who’s eleven, chimes in. “I dreamt about giant grapes.”

“What were the giant grapes doing?” Rachel asks.

“I don’t know, but they did not want me to eat them.”

Sophie laughs at her own words, and Molly, her nine-year-old crony, laughs twice as hard. She flaps her hands in excitement.

“Me next!” Molly says. “I had a dream about Kanga and Roo from Winnie the Pooh. They wanted me to come live with them, but I stayed home.”

“Good call,” Will says.

He fixes his eyes on seven-year-old Claire, who looks more excited than anyone.

“Claire,” Will says. “How about you, kid?”

“I dreamt about Mommy,” Claire says. “But she was wearing a chicken suit and running around, going, ‘Cluck, cluck, cluck!’”

And even though it comes from the mouth of a seven-year-old girl, the whole table of O’Connor siblings bursts out laughing. Even Rachel.

“Are you sure she was just saying cluck?” Sarah asks.

“No, I’m not!”

They laugh even harder. Will turns to Rachel, who’s wiping her eyes a little.

“OK,” he says. “You’re the holdout. Rachel Ann O’Connor. The reason our mother started this tradition in the first place. What did you dream about last night?”

Rachel sighs.

“I dreamt about James Dean,” she says. “Only he wasn’t dead.”

Her face turns about as red as Jim Stark’s Harrington jacket, and Will knows he probably shouldn’t press her anymore.

“What about you, then?” Rachel asks. “The real holdout. What did you dream about last night?”

Will shrugs. It’s easy. There’s a reason he wanted to talk about dreams, after all.

“I dreamt we were all really, really old,” he says. “Even Claire. And I dreamt we were sitting around a table, talking about what we dreamt last night. I don’t know. It was cool.”

He looks at Sarah for approval. Her smile tells him that he’s got it.

“Claire,” Sarah says, “when Mom comes in here, I need you to tell her about that chicken dream. OK?”

“OK!”

Will sits back and watches his sisters laugh with each other, at each other, around each other. He doesn’t know how long it will be like this, but he hopes it’s a very long time. Not every guy in the world gets to spend this much time with this many cool girls. Sisters, friends, anyone. He hopes that never stops – that there are tons of cool girls to come.

That’s the real dream.

[positivelyholland]

hey there sophie! can i request a chris evans x daughter reader? maybe something where she goes as his plus one to a red carpet/award event?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Daughter!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: paparazzi ig, mentions of a panic attack but none actually

reader pronouns: she/her

summary: your dad takes you as his plus one for his premier

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ugh, Why did I have to choose a dress so tight? Was one of the many thoughts that was running through your head right now. You were in your bathroom, trying to get ready for your dad’s latest premier. He almost always took you with him to these sorts of things as his date.

The only times you didn’t go were when you were sick, or you couldn’t make it. In that case, your dad would take your Uncle Scott or one of your grandparents. But today was not one of those days.

You were finishing putting on your makeup, which actually looked surprisingly good. You had settled with a very light smokey eye and a nude lip, and your hair was styled in picture-perfect waves.

“Y/N you almost ready to go?” your dad hollered at you from the other room.

“Yah just a sec, let me get my shoes!” Speaking of, you had decided to wear heels since they looked good with your dress, which was a decision you were now regretting, considering you had to learn how to walk in them, let alone be in them for multiple hours. “Coming!” you shouted as you were running down the stairs.

“Good because I just got a text saying out driver’s here” your dad said while checking his phone.

“Ok, here we go” you replied as you hopped in the car that was sent to take you and your father to the premier.

It was a quicker drive than you were expecting it to be, since it seemed like it had only been about 15 minutes in the car before your dad started telling you the instructions he gave you every single time you went to one of these things. You basically had this talk memorized.

“Remember, stay by my side the entire time. I’m going to walk on the first carpet that leads up to the main carpet with you, but once we get to the main one then you’re going to go with my manager to the theater, and I’ll meet you there when I’m done, sound good?” your dad said.

“Sounds good” was your response.

Next thing you knew, you were approaching the carpet. As you unbuckle your seatbelt, you notice how many people were there. Your dad took your hand to escort you out of the car and gave it a small, reassuring squeeze. As you stepped out, you were overwhelmed with all the flashing lights that came all at once. But, you had been to so many of these that it wasn’t anything that would trigger an anxiety attack or anything of that kind.

You walked through the first red carpet with your dad with no problem. And of course, your dad did it like it was what he was born to do. As you got to the end, your dad looked at you and gave you a quick hug.

“Alright, see you soon Peanut, love you” he said.

“Love you too, Dad” you told him as you met up with his manager, who then led you into the theater and showed you where you and your father would sit. Once you were seated, she left to go back to your dad.

It wasn’t going to be a quick wait until it started, so you pulled out your phone. Somehow, there were already paparazzi pictures of you and your dad online, and you actually looked good in them. Since your father trained you on the certain things to not do on social media and the things to avoid on your phone, you weren’t able to see any of the hate that you might’ve been getting, and the ones you did see, well, you were used to them and they didn’t bug you as much as they used to. You screenshotted one of the pictures that you thought looked best from the night and posted it.

Your dad finally got in his seat, just in time for the movie to start.

“Well look who it is, my amazing daughter, Y/N Evans” was all he was able to say to you before it started playing.

You really enjoyed the movie, and your dad did great. I mean, he was Chris Evans after all. You fell asleep on the way home, so your dad carried you up to your bathroom, gently woke you up, and told you to shower and get ready for bed. Once you were in bed, your dad came into your room.

“Thanks for being so great today, Y/N. I couldn’t have been blessed with a better daughter than you.” he told you, which made you feel so lucky that you had such a loving father.

“Thanks dad. Goodnight, love you.” was all you could manage to say considering how tired you were.

“Love you too. Goodnight” he said and turned off your light and you fell asleep in a snap.

[cowboypossume]

the group chatting

hi ! bc exactly one perosn asked for this and i finished up a college course over the summer with an a- here is a cut scene from a fic where a group of kiddos are at lunch and figuring out what to do afterschool (: !

“No!! I’m not asking my parents again.” Sophie said, pulling their head off the table. “Why do we always go to my house anyway? Don’t y’all live somewhere?” 

“Because, you’re the only one of the group that doesn’t have crippling mommy or daddy issues,” Fitz said, matter of factly. 

“Or both!” Keefe chimed in after a bite from his fry. 

“Uh, bullshit. I don’t know who my biological parents are, and the identity crisis that has caused me is iconic, more so than mommy or daddy issues are. Also, maybe my biological parent issues are worse. What if they’re in prison or something? I could be related to-”

“Yea, that’s the thing, you could be.” Keefe cut them off. “You might not be.”

“Plus,” Biana said, sliding into the top edge of the booth and basically sitting over Dex, “The prison system is a scam. People admit to false convictions and get over punished for minor crimes because they don’t have the resources to do otherwise. Your parents being in prison might not be their fault, or even a bad thing for their credibility.” He took a sip from a juice box. 

Sophie rolled their eyes. “Not the point I was trying to make, but thank you for that addition.”

Biana smiled around the straw. “Anytime.”

“Plus,” Dex added, resting a hand on Biana’s legs while she messed with his curls, “We shouldn’t be comparing traumas. Nothing you guys are talking about are inherently good things? How about we stop being a Jubilee video, and, I don’t know, talk about literally anything else.”

“Dex!” Sophie said, finding sunden energy. “You have a good relationship with your family. Why don’t we go to your house?”

“Because I have a total of six people in my house living there, not to mention there are always relatives coming in and out. Also!! Three of the consistent people are seven years old and don’t respect any kind of boundary, which is fine, I love them regardless, but with the amount of shit this group has gone through, maybe we don’t need to invoke triggers for no reason.”

“Screw you too.” Sophie said, flopping back into the booth.

“Love youuuuuuuuuuuuu.” Dex said, reaching for her hand across the table. “Also compsi has a meeting afterschool today.”

“Uh huh. Why don’t we go to the park or something?” Sophie said. 

“Because, even under shade and with a million fans going, we can never avoid being miserably hot.” Keefe said.

Fitz nodded. “And your backyard is way cooler than any park we could go to.”

“Was that pun intended?” Keefe asked, glowing with pride.

Fitz winked. “Maybe.”

“Ughhhhhh, fine! I’ll ask my parents a g a i n. Who all is coming over?”

“I can’t. Speech and Debate tournament.” Biana said. 

Keefe gasped. “Is that why you’re wearing a suit?”

“No, I just thought it would be comfortable. Obviously that’s the reason, dumbass!!”

“Well good luck!!” Mucrua added, pausing her typing on the computer for a second. 

“You’re literally my debate partner??”

He shrugged. “Yeah? I want us to have good luck.”

Tam rubbed his eyes after he dragged a chair to the edge of the booth. “What are you talking about?”

“They’re arguing about why we always hang out at Sophie’s.” Linh piped up, looking over xier book from the corner.

“Why hello,” Keefe said to Linh at the same time Tam smiled to himself saying “Typical.”

“Keefe, we were literally talking before lunch started. Calm down.”

“What about it? I missed hearing your voice.” Keefe said while dramatically putting his head onto xier shoulder.

“Yeah, you have been kinda quiet. Everything ok?” Fitz asked, reaching a hand across the table.

“Fine! Today’s just been a long day and, love you guys, but talking to people is exhausting. Which, by the way,” xey pointed to Sophie, “I don’t want to hang out later.”

“Good job not apologizing!” Tam said enthusiastically but brought his hands together in a sarcastic clap.

“Fuck you.” Linh said, immediately dropping how tired xier voice sounded before.

“Okay-” Sophie said quickly. “Linh, you’re out. Tam?” “Can’t. Speech and debate.” “Wait, I thought I.E.’s only competed on Saturdays.” Keefe asked.

“Aww, is that affection I’m reading between the lines on?” Tam said while leaning forward.

“What? No! I just,,,, pay attention.”

“No you don’t.” Sophie and Fitz said together.

“Ugh! Fine! I kinda like you around. Great? Cool. Now answer the question.” Keefe said, combining his words together due to the speed. 

“See, was that so hard?”

“Tam!” Linh tisked, not looking up from xier book or really moving.

He sighed dramatically. “Yes, Keefe, you were right: IE’s usually do Saturadys, but this fucking school is trying to be edgy and make it Friday, so, all I.E.rs are having fun. Also. The coach wants me to try LD, so I get to be triple entered this time around. But, yeah. I definitely cannot. Also there's a film thing I had to enter tomorrow, and I have to give a memorized speech there too. ”

“Holy shit are you ok?” Marcua asked, closing the computer and putting it in his bag. At the same time, Dex asked “Do you want us to go to your thingy tomorrow?”

“Not really.” Tam said through a laugh. 

“Was that to us going or being ok?” Linh asked, concerned.

Tam did not answer.

Marcua crawled over Dex, knocking Biana’s foot off the bench with her bag, and went to hug him from behind.

“Awesome, you’re out,” Sophie filled in after a second of dead silence, “Dex?”

“I already said I was busy.”

“Right!! I’m great at this. So,, it’d just be me, Fitz, and Keefe?”

The group all looked around at each other then nodded.

“Awesome.”

Fitz gave her a knowing smile. He cusped the side of their face and kissed her check. “It’ll be ok, Love,” he whispered.

Sophie wanted to say something back, but Keefe interrupted. “Heyhey, this couple shit needs to stop. I refuse to be the third wheel later or right now.”

“There’s too many of us to be for you to be a third wheel,” Linh said, pushing Keefe off xier shoulder. 

“And I don’t really wanna see it either.” Biana added. 

FItz mocked a gasp. “I am wounded.” 

“You’re my brother, and that’s my ex. Y’all are cute together but I’m allowed to feel a little weird when I see it.” “Hey! It’s not my fault you don’t feel attraction!” Sophie faked being upset.

“Never said it was!” Biana grinned back at her. He reached around Dex and went to hold their hand. She grabbed it back. “Especially because I can do so much better.” 

Marcua tapped Biana’s leg with her phone without letting go of Tam. “Hate to break up this, touching reunion that happens once a week, but it’s 1:45. We’ve gotta get going.”

They all said their goodbyes, lunch ended, and the end of the day came faster than Sophie would have liked.

thank you @an-absolute-travesty for indulging this  ♡ 

[poisoned-peppermint]

Part 4 of incorrect quotes because i feel obligated to make more due to the sheer number of people who liked it

Dream: My dearest beloved fuckos, is a fun, gender-neutral way to begin a speech

George: See also, esteemed bastards

Bad: Gentlefolk, Ferals, and Domesticated cryptids. 

Sapnap: My fellow yees and haws

~~~~~~~

Techno:Hey I know skyrim is revered as a classic but are we just going to ignore the fact that the entire game only had like 3 voice actors

Wilbur:Stop right there criminal cum

Techno:My ancestors are smiling at me, bastard, can you say the same

~~~~~~~

Foolish:When's your bedtime :)

Purpled: Whenever I next collapse in purely up to the gods

~~~~~~

Ranboo:Human skin is a fursuit for skeletons 

Tubbo: i’m going to debone you like a fucking trout

~~~~~~

Bad:You’re enough

Bad: love yourself!!!!!!! or suffer my wrath!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dream:And by wrath I mean love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bad:no I mean wrath!!!!! You reading this, if you don't love yourself I’ll beat you with a stick!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

~~~~~~~

Bad:I hope everyone is today well! And tomorrow!!!! After that you’re on your own.

~~~~~~

Bad:what am I supposed to do all day while you’re at work

Skeppy:I don’t know, what do you normally do while I’m gone

Bad: wait for you to get back

~~~~~~

Velvet:For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5am on the day I can sleep in

Ant:Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.

Velvet:Early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch

~~~~~~

Tubbo: 3:23 AM make a wish

Ranboo: I wish that you would go to sleep

Tuddo: Yeah well I wish I grew an inch taller every day as you get an inch shorter until you’re as flat as as a piece of paper and I’m 11 feet tall

Ranboo: You’re going to die of a mixture of skeletal instability and heart disease.

Tubbo: Yeah but I’ll look good while doing it.

~~~~~~

Bad:Disrespect me again and I’ll determine your bodies resonant frequency and play a jaunty horn solo that boils your miserable organs inside out 

~~~~~~

Quackity: If I were dating you?  Well, heh. Let’s just say horses wouldn't be called horses anymore

Karl: hey what the honk does this mean…..I’m shaking what does this mean!

~~~~~~

Skeppy: Are you ok?

Bad wrapped in a burrito blanket drinking his 6th cup of coffee: Yes, this is exactly what mental stability looks like

~~~~~~

Sam: My hands are cold

Ponk: *holds their hands*

Ponk: better?

Sam: My lips are cold too

~~~~~~

George at dream’s funeral: can I have a moment alone with them?

Sapnap: of course *leaves*

George leaning over dream’s casket: Now listen, I know you’re not dead.

Dream: yeah no shit

~~~~~~

Skeppy, jokingly: I should have Bad kill you for that.

Bad, peering around the corner: Who do I need to kill?

Skeppy: Wh- no, I was just kidding around.

Bad, pulling out a switchblade: No, who’s bothering you

~~~~~~

Bad *watching the news*: Some idiot tried to fight a squid at the aquarium.

Skeppy *covered in ink*: Maybe the squirt was being a dick.

~~~~~~

Peacock: *spreads feathers at Bad*

Skeppy: It’s trying to attract a mate

Bad, extremely confused: *shyly lifts top*

Skeppy: No!

~~~~~~

Sapnap: Karl, do you eat olives? My dad wants to know

Karl: No, I hate olives. Olives are the spawn of satan. I hate olives so much my mom forced me to live in Mount olive for the rest of my childhood as a curse from the olive gods. Do you understand how much olives have ruined my life? I'm so offended that you asked me that have some consideration for people who have been abused by olives please!

Sapnap: K A R L ……….they’re just olives!!?

Karl: JUST OLIVES EXCUSE!

~~~~~~

Tommy: If you’re bored you can simply close your eyes and rotate a cow in your mind. It’s free and the cops can’t stop you

~~~~~~

Wilbur: is there anyone even named sheldon irl?

Tubbo: my class turtle from 6th grade :)

Wilbur: that’s a turtle

Tubbo: When god sings with his creations, will a turtle not be part of the choir?

~~~~~~

Ranboo: No bcuz why do ppl like salad?? What’s so good about it

Tubbo: chew leaf like god intended

Ranboo: No

Tubbo: Abandon god and see what he does next time you lift your hands in prayer

~~~~~~~

Tommy: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly.

Wilbur, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

~~~~~~

Quackity: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.

~~~~~~

Puffy: If you had too, what would you give up food or sex?

Bad: Sex.

Skeppy: Seriously, answer faster.

Bad: I’m sorry honey, when they said sex I wasn’t thinking about sex with you.

Skeppy: It’s like a giant hug.

Puffy: Ant, what about you? What would you give up sex or food?

Ant: Food.

Puffy: Okay, how about sex or dinosaurs?

Ant: ……...Oh my God it’s like the movie Sophie’s Choice.

Gumi: What about you Velvet? What would you give up sex or food?

Velvet: Oh… um… I don’t know, it’s too hard.

Gumi: No, you gotta pick one.

Velvet: Um, food… no, sex… no, food…sex… food. Ugh! I don’t know! I want both! I- I want Antfrost on bread!

~~~~~~~

Tommy, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

~~~~~~~

Bad: Why are you guys acting like this?

Boomer: Oh, we’re not acting. We really are like this.

~~~~~~

Techno: Dream has only knocked me out three times this week. Our friendship is really developing.

~~~~~~

Tommy: You’re pathetic!

Wilbur: You’re pathetic-er!

Techno: You’re both losers.

~~~~~~

Bad: I wish I could help you, but I shorn’t.

Skeppy: Bad, please!

Bad: What part of shorn’t don’t you understand?

~~~~~~

Tubbo: Why did you leave Wrestlemania on for Michal?

Ranboo: They need to learn how to protect us.

~~~~~~

Antfrost: I regret getting dragged into your heterosexual tomfoolery.

~~~~~~

Bad: Strawberry milk doesn’t taste like strawberry OR milk.

Skeppy: Go the fuck to sleep Bad!

Bad: LANGUAGE!!

~~~~~~

Ranboo: Tubbo, please calm down.

Tubbo: I asked for two large fries!

Tubbo: *dumps fries onto table*

Tubbo: But all they did was give me a MILLION FUCKING LITTLE ONES!

~~~~~~

Bad: That was the worst throw ever. Of all time.

Skeppy: Not my fault. Somebody put a wall in the way.

~~~~~~

Wilbur: When you’ve been on the internet for as long as I have, you develop thick skin.

Tommy: Navy blue isn’t your color.

Wilbur: Navy blue brings out my eyes you prick! *Chases after Tommy*

~~~~~~

Bad: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere*

Puffy: Where did you get that?.

Bad: My pocket.

Puffy: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?

Bad: Skills.

~~~~~~

Tubbo: I will come to your house after work and knock on your window at 11 AM. You will not open the curtains, knowing full well what awaits you, but the knocking only grows louder, more demanding. Finally it stops, your ears ringing. You nervously let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You're safe now. Minutes pass by and you start to relax. And then you hear a knock at the front door. Like before, you stay still and clutch the blankets around you. You try to tell your self that it's just your imagination. Maybe the milk man? But why would he come so late? Everyone else was asleep, save for Naomi who was playing video games down stairs. To your relief, the knocking stops after a few. Minutes and you breath easy once more. Until you hear a knock on your bedroom door. You don't move. It's just your imagination. She isn't here. She can't be here. You tell yourself, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to sleep. The knock comes again, but with horror you realize that it came from the closet inside your room. You know that you have no choice. You get up, climbing out of bed with shaking limbs. You walk to the closest, trembling, and holding back the tears threatening to spill over your porcelain cheeks. You hesitate with your hand over the closet handle. Maybe it's just your imagination? She's not really there. You can go to sleep and laugh it off in the morning. Your naive thoughts are cut off by another, more demanding knock on the closet door, inches from your face. You know what you have to do. You open the closet door, and there she stands. Chuck e cheese, the mouse looms over you in the dim light. It's soulless eyes boor into you. It raises its arms, and you flinch as it begins to floss at lightning speed. Tears spill over your cheeks. This is the last thing you'll ever see.

Ranboo: Wait, Chuck e cheese’s pronouns are she/her? Trans Chuck e cheese? Good for her.

~~~~~~~~

Bad: Would you like something to drink? *They opened the fridge* We have water, milk, juice, spiders, Dr. Pepper-

Quackity: Spiders?

Bad: Spiders it is then.

Quackity: No, that wasn’t-

*But they were already pouring him a brimming glass of spiders…

~~~~~~

Puffy : Make her pussy wet not her eyes.

Velvet : Make his dick hard not his life.

Punz : Break her bed not her heart.

Skeppy : Play with his boobs not his feelings. 

Ant : Get on his dick not his nerves.

Bad : Always salt your pasta while boiling it.

~~~~~~~

Wilbur: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons!

Tommy: Bet you I can!

Phil: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*

~~~~~~~

Ant: We need a way to lure in new customers?

Ponk: Maybe we could have some fun, interactive events!

Skeppy: Badboyhalo bath water.

Bad: ABSOLUTELY NOT!

~~~~~~~~

Fundy: GET BACK HERE YOU DUMB FUCK!

Wilbur: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!

~~~~~~~~

Bad: Mint is just cold spicy.

Pummel party Squad: …

Gumi: What the actual fuck is wrong with you.

~~~~~~~~

Quackity: Isn’t it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?

~~~~~~~

Tommy: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt?

Phil:

Phil: Why are you eating dirt?

Tommy: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

~~~~~~~

Tubbo: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.

Quackity: You’re too young to have enemies.

Tubbo: You don’t even know.

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Is there a cactus where your heart should be?

Puffy: What’s up your ass this morning!

Bad: *walks in* …Hi!!

Puffy: Hmm… nevermind.

Skeppy: WAIT NO!

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Ha! Don’t you know the trappers trap can trap the trapper?

Skeppy: I must be losing it, I’m quoting Bad.

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Bad, I sense hostility.

Bad: Good, because I hate you

~~~~~~~

Bad: Are you a painting?

Skeppy: What-?

Bad: Because I want to pin you to a wall.

Skeppy: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG ME OR SOMETHING-

~~~~~~

Tommy: You’re giving me a sticker?

Phil: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!”

Tommy: I’m not a preschooler.

Phil: Fine, I’ll take it back-

Tommy: I earned this, back off!

~~~~~~

Dream, sweating: George, there’s something I need to ask you-

George: Finally! You’re proposing!

Dream: How’d you know?

George: Dream, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.

George: I even picked it up once

~~~~~~~~

*Bad and Skeppy looking at a locked gate into a park*

Bad: Aw. :(

Skeppy: You know what they say.

Bad: Please don’t-

Skeppy: BE GAY DO CRIME! *hops gate*

Bad: Frick-

~~~~~~~~

let me know if ya’ll want more <3

[lily-drake]

Gifts

Any holiday or day where gifts were given was taken with utmost seriousness in the Wayne household.  Or in other words, it was a competition to one up each other’s gifts.  It all started when Jason came to the house and Dick had come back to visit for the holidays.  Marinette hadn’t really understood what was happening when she happily opened Dick’s present, which was a new knitting kit with so many different materials.  She ran over to him and hugged him tightly as Alfred took photos.  Dick had glanced over at Jason and smirked at him, but Jay-Jay only rolled his eyes with his arms crossed.  She still hadn’t opened his after all, and he was around her more now than Dick was, which meant he had a higher advantage of knowing her new interests and endeavors.  So he watched as she pulled out a thick book of fashion design and her own embroidery set.  Her eyes practically glowed as stared at the set.  Jason hadn’t even seen her move because next thing he knew strong arms were wrapped around him.  The 7-year-old had definitely been taught by Dick on how to hug people.

Bruce gazed lovingly at his children, but he knew about their competition, and he would not be outdone by his sons.

“Daddy, Daddy, look what Birdy and Jay-Jay gave me!  They’re so nice!  Feel the material Birdy got me, I can make so many things now!”

“That sounds amazing, Bluebell.”

Marinette smiled brightly as she showed Bruce the gifts that she got.

“Do you want to see what I got you?”

He asked amusedly.  Marinette began to hop on her toes in excitement, because daddy’s always had the best gifts!

“Yes please!”

Bruce smiled and pointed out a small, thin, rectangular box under the tree.  She leaped over to it and when she opened it her mouth dropped open and she squealed.

“You got me tickets to Sophie Theallet’s fashion show?!”

She was jumping with joy as she stared at the five tickets in her hand.  Bruce looked over at and smirked at the boys.  He won, again.  They groaned and sulked in annoyance.  Why did he always win?

________

Marinette was 9 when she finally figured out what her family was doing, and she knew that she would be the one to give the absolute best gifts to her family!  Her family deserved something super special, so she went to work.  Her Birdy was part of the circus and they had a lot of equipment he often used.  But what could she do that would be super special and make her win the competition?  Then it hit her, she knew exactly what she would do!  She would need to ask Alfred for help, but it would be worth it!

Next was Jay-Jay.  She didn’t know much about his past as he always told her that she had to wait till she was older, but she knew about him now.  Jay-Jay loved to read and would often read to her, he really liked hoodies and comfy things, and he liked to bake with Alfred and her.  So maybe…….yea!  She would do that, it shouldn’t be that hard to do.

Daddy always got her such nice gifts, how could she ever beat him?  There had to be something she could do to outdo him.  He was Batman, he worked with the Justice League, he loved all of them, and sometimes if he finished his work early would watch movies with them!  But he was always so good and knew exactly what to get.  She would try though, she had an idea and she hoped it would work.

Alfred, he deserved the best gift because of everything he did for them!  She already knew the perfect gift for her grandpa Alffie!

________

Christmas arrived and she stared out the window as the snowflakes fell onto the covered yard.  Maybe they could go sledding today, that would be so much fun!  She was so transfixed in the snow, and thinking of how pretty a dress would be with the same color and different designs, that she hadn’t noticed her brothers sneaking up on her.  A squeal left her lips as she was lifted into the air and twirled around wrapped in the warm embrace of her Birdy.  She giggled as he spun and squeaked as she was gently thrown into the air, only to land on the couch.

“Good morning Blueberry.”

Dick chirped happily.  She giggled again and leaned into Jay-Jay’s hand as he ruffled her hair.

“Morning Pixie-pop.  Sleep well?”

“Morning Birdy and Jay-Jay.  I slept great, thank you.  Did either of you?”

Jason shrugged with a small smirk,

“I slept fine, though I wouldn’t have minded sleeping a little longer.  You missed Dick’s hallway caroling this morning.”

“I sounded amazing, thank you very much.  And I was too excited to fully sleep.  I’m going to win this year.”

Dick said pridefully.

“No way, I’m totally going to beat you.”

Jason deffied puffing out his chest slightly.  Marinette giggled and called out,

“No, I’m going to beat all of you!  I will be the champion gift giver this year.”

They looked at her and smirked.

“Only in your dreams Pix.”

“You’ll see,”

She replied, crossing her arms and lifting her nose in the air like she had seen some of the people at the galas do.

“Then you’ll have to agree with me!”

They all gave each other sceptical looks before laughing and continued to talk until daddy came down.  When he finally did, the competition commenced.  The first person to open presents was her, obviously, as she was the youngest.  Dick had given her a really nice and fancy art kit, and she loved it!  Jay-Jay had given her tickets and backstage passes to the theater for The Nutcracker, she had been wanting to see it for a while now.  Alfred had told her that he would teach her how to make a super secret recipe, and she would be able to help him with dinner today too!  Daddy, he was too clever, too cunning.  He had given her a pet hamster, and it was beautiful!  She couldn’t beat him now, her gift was nothing compared to-to this!  She tries though, and maybe she could win second?  Yea, she would be ok with second, if she got this adorable baby creature.  She couldn’t even be mad or disappointed, because look at its cute little feet and adorable eyes!

Next was Jay-Jay.  The others had given him some really nice things, but she felt that hers was the best!  So when he opened it and his eyes shined, she knew she made the right thing!  It had taken her hours to find it, and she had to ask Dad if she could get it since she wasn’t allowed to use the card without permission.  It was one of the first books of Pride and Prejudice ever published, she even got him a fancy ink and quill set so he could better embrace his Harry Potter nerdom.

“This is amazing, thank you Pixie, I guess I do owe you an apology, this is amazing.”

She smiled up at him while gently petting the top of her new hamster's head as it laid on her lap.

“Told you!”

For Dick she had knitted him a collection of stuffed animals that he talked about from the circus.  Alfred had helped her find the material and helped her when she made a mistake or needed help on a particularly tricky part.  She thought she saw Dick’s eyes water for a second.  The next thing she knew she was being tightly hugged, but he left enough room to not squish her furry child.

“Thank you Blueberry, it’s amazing.”

“Of course it is, I made them!”

He chuckled as he pulled away and ruffled her already messed up hair.

She had made Daddy a picture book and had decorated it with black and yellow glitter, bats, and different birds.  Throughout the book were all of the pictures that she was able to get her hands on dated and labeled in order from oldest photo to most recent.  He had a soft smile as he looked through the book and when he finally looked back up to his slightly nervous daughter he pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead.

“I think you won this year.”

“Nuh ah!  You gave me a hamster!  There’s no way I could have won!”

“Well, I think all the others would agree that you thought of and made some very amazing gifts.”

She turned to look at the others as they gave gentle nods and thumbs up.  Her cheeks felt really warm and she smiled at them all.

“Thank you.  Now Grandpa Alffie needs to open his presents!”

Alfred smiled at the small child and opened the gifts he had received from the others.  Marinette had made and embroidered a new handkerchief for him.  He seemed to like it as he immediately placed it in his pocket.  She was the victor of this year's Christmas gift exchange, but she still felt that Daddy beat her.

________

As years passed and her family grew so did the competition.  Sadly, it would be harder to her her family their most desired gifts as she had decided to study abroad in Paris that year, but she would be da*ed if she didn’t try her hardest.  She had gotten better with her skills for making things over the years, and so much had happened.  Jason had died and come back, that was the hardest time of her life.  They had new people adopted into the family, and she even had a little brother!  She was going to meet him this year when she went to visit for the winter break.  She would have the glasses with her at all times in case there was an attack so she could quickly come back here and take care of it.

When she arrived at the Gotham Airport and saw her large family standing and holding a sign as they looked for her she ran up to them as quickly as she could.

“Pixie!”

Jason called out, catching the small girl and twirling her around.  She laughed and when she was put down created the rest of her family just as happily.  When she finally came face to face with her little brother she held out her hand.  Her family said he was more formal and was very against physical touch that he did not agree to or initiate.  He eyed her hand suspiciously before shaking it and giving her a nod.

“Damian Al Ghul-Wayne.”

“Marinette Wayne.  It’s nice to finally meet you Damian.”

They both let go after a firm shake.  She already had a gift for him, and Kagami helped her find the perfect one.  It was a nice blade, the blade was completely black, but had a red tint to it and red gains that delicately ran through it.  The hilt was of fine golden metal and a strong leather grip.  She had made the sheath for the blade.  With strong leather and an inner layer of Kevlar so the sword would be protected.  She had carved in Arabic symbols to spell out “Son of Bat” and had sewn a few almost unnoticeable small robins along the bottom and top of the inky black material.

For Tim, she had gotten him the best coffee beans in all of Paris and she had made him new lounge clothes that identified with his hero persona of Red Robin that had many hidden pockets and two large to-go coffee cups, one on each sleeve.

For Jason she had made him a new leather Jacket with book quotes embroidered all over the inside of the inner material.  There were lots of different pockets, and a few tailor made to fit his guns.  She had put a few Jagged Stone concert tickets in one of the pockets too.

For Stephanie, she had made purple silk pajamas that had waffles all over it.  She had even made sure that there was a hood connected to the pj shirt.

For Cass, just like Jason had done for her, gotten tickets for The Nutcracker.  She had also gotten her ballerina shoes, the best one and most highly recommended ones from the Paris Ballet.

For Dick she had made him an elephant onesie.  Why you may ask, well because for her birthday he had given her a mouse one.  So was it spite for being called short, or was it her trying to match, nobody needs to know.

She had made Alfred a new apron with the words “Don’t try anything, I already know.”  Neatly sewed in cursive into it.

She had gotten Babs a new eskrima stick infused with a bit of her luck in it so no one would underestimate her in battle as she would always have luck on her side giving her the upper hand.  She may be disabled, but that doesn’t stop her from kicking butt.

Finally, her gift for her dad.  This one was hard, because she wasn’t around to know what had caught his eye this year, and her siblings refused to tell her.  It was fine though, because she would figure it out.  And she did, or at least she had tried.  She ended up making him a bee suit jacket with everybody’s names sewed into the inner lining, multiple pockets for convenience, and black bats that would only be shown in the right lighting.  She would win this year, she would!  Sadly, Dick had won last year, but she would regain her crown again this year!  She would be the best gift giver of her whole family!!!

Taglist:

@queenz-z @aespades @fandomsaremylifeline @stainedglassm @toodaloo-kangaroo @prettylittlebutterflie @trippingovermyfeet @liquid-luck-00 @unoriginalmess

[humankoalaa]

BATWOMAN SEASON FINALE!

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

before i get into the season finale of the best show on television with the best cast on television let’s establish something… wildmoore is the standard.

i hate flashbacks in finales 😫 HATE.

one thing about mary… she gon wear her leather pants and in the words of mrs. ryan wilder-moore (leave me alone im just practicing) looking fine as hell 🥵

alice… sweetie… there’s just so much to unpack here and it’s been 3 seconds 🥴 does arkham just not have guards? are those jumper cables? PAIN. this scene is pain.

all this crying right… how alice got more water coming out of her mouth than her eyes?

yeah definitely not jumper cables 😂

FIRST OF ALL.. sophie… who tf is batwoman because i only see cousin luke and a girlfriend present.

okay where is batwoman because ion like a girlfriends plan and she’s pacing. its giving very much not a chance 😫

mary… never apologize for being late. that is so unbecoming of you when you look that damn good.

look how she distracted me from her shit. alternatively give who to what? …

“mary…we know you feel a certain… whatever for her” 😂😂 i wanna be buried with this on my tombstone. remove mary and change feel to felt. that’s all i ask.

ryan: “… the buzzer created marquis” .. mary: “… the joker created marquis and if we’re splitting hairs he created alice too ” ….. huh? .. is it not essentiallly same thing mary?

mary… not even the devil is on your side so please 😒 and this is not what they meant when they told you to use your voice.

nobody:

mary: “.. i need to save alice’s life” …

y’all and the bat team: “WHAT ABOUT CATHERINE MARY?! “

me: “mary don’t even like these people”

catherine failed at faking a death and attempted murder, only to be murdered by alice her murderee and jacob is incarcerated. … alexa, play “i will always love you”. .. mary… .. dolly parton would like a word.

i can’t take marquis serious 🤣 the colored tips kill me cause they look like extensions 😫

ryan… he ain’t gon do shit.

under my umbrella ella ella ellla ay ay ay

is dana the only news reporter in gotham? … cause if she needs a break … sophie moore would like an application. SORRY.

and how the hold up open already…

heeeyyyy auntie. oooo she in pants y’all 👀 lemme find out auntie bout to be out in them trenches with the team.

you supposed to knock jada. who raised you?

“told you she doesn’t knock” 🤣🤣 exactly.

one thing about cousin luke… he don’t like nobody. the fucking blinking as jada impersonates his dad im crying 😂

it’s all of them staring at jada like … ….

🤣 i cannot stand them. this is seriously what batwoman is working with and somehow she’s still alive.

this mf said ryan went to run an errand 😂🤦🏾‍♀️

ok now it makes sense 😂

i just never know what alice is talking about.

the joker is such a weird chaotic villian. who just wants to kill a bunch of people and like the pettiest part of this shit is if you don’t die you’re just gonna look like shit forever 😂🤦🏾‍♀️

“not to throw shade on my own sex appeal here” 🤣🤣 why is she like this.

wait…. she gave alice the buzzer?

jada … first of alll i KNOW you not talking about trust.

“i need my mom” 😭

WAYMENT not jada growing up right in front of my acai bowl 😭 they grow up so fast.

“martini o’clock”… cute.

hamilfox banter 🥲 we love best friends.

luke please 🤣🤦🏾‍♀️ she’s trying 😭

it’s sis eating pizza on the hood of her car for me. acid rain in the forecast she don’t even know it. bless.

“lord help me” 🤣🤣 tell me your team is useless without telling me.

sophie talking bombs. 10/10. more of that please.

ryan and sophie bickering is my religion and here i am to worship.

“im not losing you ryan.. you don’t get to play the crazy card with me…. im not losing you” 😭 iktfr say it with your chest sophie.

“nobody’s ever said that to me before” 🥲 trust me… we can tell 😂

just in case yalll forgot, wildmoore is the standard. the bar, pass go, collect 200 dollars, advance to free parking. money mi a preeeee iykyk 😬

here go this great value joker ruining the moment.

okay batwoman time to turn this shit around 😫 GET UP. also cousin luke… any moment now. aaannnyyyyy moment.

i swear to g-d she better not fall for this.

unbelievable 😂

ryan.. HURRYYYYYY 😫 alexa, play madonna 4 minutes.

marquis was gon have to be on his own because absolutely not. what street rat or weasel can save your ass 😫 apologize.

lawd don’t put my good sis through no more shit please 🥴 the lip thing 😭 it’s sophie not being afraid of anything until ryan leaves the room for me. ALEXA, play jason derulo marry me 😫 ugh. greatest love story ever told. argue with that lamp.

“you think im gonna die before you buy me dinner” .. same ryan, same.

🥺 luke. not the AI.

this poppycock joker like sit down 😫

batwoman… now i know you don’t kill. i know this. but you gon learn today. you got a girlfriend, a bat team, a mother, and a whole lot of shit to do. so … let. go.

“you really willing to ditch the bitch?” 🤣🤦🏾‍♀️ i love their dynamic so much.

“if anyone can survive hard alice… it’s you” 😭😭😭😭😭😭

still properly confused about this buzzer situation.

“to be clear… we still aren’t friends” 😂

SOPHIE HURRY 😭😭😭😭 this is too much 😫

“call me batwing” 🥲❤️

ryda is my ship name for ryan and jada because ride or die okay that’s what happened and what a time to be alive 😭

y’all…. she got the girl, her best friends and her family. ryan wilder-moore, you deserve the world 😭

alice better come back eventually 🥺

they just meant they were gonnna disturb my peace with brunette alice.

girlfriends 😭 we really watched two black women fall in love y’all 😫 on the CW at that 🥲 i love it here. ion care too much about the political side of things but their story is just so personal to me for so many reason. to alll my sistas .. . finally🥲

I know they don’t have dana out in the middle of chernobyl reporting. throw the whole job away.

well shit .. never mind… rip.

ALSO, should that network cancel batwoman, we all understand the assignment right? because hbomax, netflix, hulu, radioshack and the lord himself will be hearing from my lawyers.

see y’all in season 4!

[semischarmed]

Detour

“Really Scott,” you say, as you run your fingers through your hair. “I don’t look familiar to you at all?” You take a mental picture of your high school tormentor’s face. Damn. ‘You’ve only gotten hotter these past few years haven’t you?’

“Nah man, sorry” He states as he moves to close the door to his apartment. You give a slight rub to a small gold medallion and his body starts moving on it’s own. You stare at him with a cruel smile as he tries to wrestle control back of his body. Your face strains but you are able to force him to let you into his place. Scott, evidently, was smarter than he looks as you notice him take a mental note of your struggle and the medallion. You’re gonna have to be careful around him.

You have to admit, this is a lot tougher than you initially expected. Much like his body, man has a will of steel, and even with this necklace’s little power boost, you can only barely contain him. But you have the power of raw emotion coursing through you. Envy. Lust. Unlike Scottie over here, lady luck has not been kind to the past few years past high school. That all changed when you came across this medallion. A strange, mystical, wonderful medallion with strange, mystical, wonderful powers. As soon it came into your possession, you instantly knew the first person who would have the privilege of witnessing its power firsthand. Scott reclaimed a bit of power over himself.

“What the fuck dude! You got the wrong guy! I really don’t know who you are!” You have to hold back a bit of your hurt. All those years of agony and fear, and it doesn’t even register a blip to him. ‘Fuck it, worth it for what I’m about to get.’ With another rub of the medallion you force him to freeze.

As you study his frame, still and glistening with a nervous sweat, you are overcome with a wave of lust- you can’t wait to possess the fuck out of this man. He’s only gotten bigger, beefier since the last time you’ve seen him. You are cut from your trance as you hear a soft “zzzz” sound.

His phone buzzes again and, rubbing your medallion, you force him to pull it out and unlock it for you. “Who is this?” You ask, as you take a closer look at the string of texts. “Almost back!” “Hey u wanna get some pizza tonight?” “Dude I gotta tell you about Sophie at the weights today.“

“I-It’s Alex, he’s my friend. He’s my best friend. We’re roommates. Also he’s coming back soon, so you should probably go. This-whatever the fuck this is man, I won’t tell anyone I promise. Just go” he states nervously. Try as you might, you can’t read if he’d genuinely let you go. Knowing the Scott you knew in high school, he’d probably beat you to a pulp as soon as you released your hold on him. Whatever. Not leaving anyway. You stare at more pictures of his friend from Scott’s social media. Fit, cute- hot even, easy on the eyes. Ok then, maybe a little detour is in order. 

“I’m gonna give you a choice.” You state plainly, as you set his phone on the table. “And I know you remember who I am, so you can stop the act. You? Or Alex? Who’s it gonna be?” He probably thinks you’re gonna kill him. Not even close. If anything, he’s gonna be getting a new lif-

“Alex, Alex! Please dude, just leave me alone!” He says without hesitation. Damn. Cold-blooded. You smile with menacing compliance. 

“Alex it is.”

----

Minutes later, a sweaty Alex unlocks the door to his apartment, eager to get quick shower in and order some dinner. “Oh, uh, I didn’t realize we’d have guests”. 

Alex smiles warmly at you and greets you, “Hey, I’m Alex, Scott’s roommate. Good to meet you!” He looks at his hand. “Sorry, I just got back from the gym, so I’d shake your hand, b-” “So you’re Alex! good to meet you too!” you cut him off by extending your hand, which he awkwardly shakes out of formality. You use this to take a sneak preview of your future vessel’s hands. Calloused, but soft. Thin, damp. Vascular. Good.

“Yeah, I’m an old friend of Scott’s. From high school,” you lie. “He said he had to grab something from the store, so he’ll probably be back in a bit.”

“Aww well, I’m sorry he’s been keeping you waiting” Alex gives a warm smile. “He’s usually pretty good at this kind of stuff, so I’m sure he had a good reason. Do you want like a water or something?” 

He starts to head to the kitchen. You stifle a moan as you quickly stick your hand in your pants and smear his gym sweat all over your dick. Sneak preview. 

As he fashions himself a glass of water and glances back as you quickly take your hands out your pants before he notices. “Oh no, no! I’m alright! Thank you for the offer though!” you beam back. Close call.

‘Alex is such a nice, stand up guy’ You wonder to yourself, ‘why is he friends with that piece of shit’

“I’ve known Scott since college, so a little less than you, haha” he adds, as if hearing your mental conversation. “He always keeps it real and he’s even been helping me get toned”. He smiles and does a small bicep flex to demonstrate -hot- before he ravenously gulps down the entire glass of water and sets it down.

‘Fuck yeah, I can’t wait to be the one going down that tube’ you think, as you bite your lip. Alex starts to head your way. You then pick up on his scent, he smells clean- probably his cologne or deodorant. Mountains. Mint. Fresh rain. He’s like a breath of fresh air. Then the undercurrent of his scent hits. Raw, primal, alpha as fuck. You’re a bit surprised. Such a kind, clean cut guy and he apparently naturally smells like a filthy, raunchy, putrid motherfucker. You can hardly control yourself as you try to imagine where it’s coming from. Pits, ass, feet, ball sweat, all of the above?- wherever the fuck it’s coming from, it’s intoxicating. You smile in the joy that a little piece of you, even if it was just the dick that you rubbed his hand sweat all over, now smells like a diluted Alex. You struggle as you adjust your growing hard on in proximity to the pheromone bomb that is Alex.

Suddenly, Alex’s phone buzzes. You steal a glance at the sender. It’s Scott.

“Hey man, come to my room, now. We need to fucking talk. I have no idea who he is. Make sure he stays where he is. He doesn’t know I’m here .” Alex stares at his phone, a little perplexed, while you continue to stare at this fine, fine piece of ass in front of you. He gives a quick glance your way, to which you respond with a smile. 

“Hey, uh, make yourself at home, ok? Im sure Scott’s coming back soon. I, uh, I gotta take care of something real quick with our, um, other roommate.” There’s only two bedrooms and he’s a horrible liar, but you still find it a little endearing. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you, maybe we can hang out sometime. Any friend of Scott is a friend of mine!“ he tells you kindly as you swoon. ‘Oh Alex we’re about to be much, much closer than friends. Closer than you can possibly imagine’.

“Hey dude, uh, so Scott’s friend is waiting for you in the living room. Also whatever this is, can it wait? I kinda have to showe-“ Alex cuts himself off as he sees Scott slumped over, tied up to his desk chair with his own dirty clothes in a neat little bow. “What the fuck!?! Scott! are you ok?” Alex rushes over to help his friend.

“So, I gotta say, Scott, you made a great choice sacrificing him to save yourself. Alex is definitely a catch.” You say from the doorway. Alex quickly looks your way in horror as his best friend breaks free from his fake restraints and pulls him into an embrace.

Alex tries to squirm free from Scott’s grip, as you make Scott say the truth to his friend. “He made me choose, between you and me. I chose you.”

“T-This is a joke, right? Scott?” Scott starts to force him into his desk chair. “Cmon man!” Alex pleads, as an emotionless Scott ties him to the desk chair.

“Some best friend” you chuckle, as you stroke Scott’s cheek and wipe away a stray tear -you can feel his revulsion internally- “he sold you out without a second thought”. You start to undress his lower half, starting with his gym shoes. Fuck it was potent. “Don’t worry, I’ll never do that to us.” You peel away his sweat soaked socks and take another whiff. Alex sits in confusion, probably speechless at what had just transpired.

“Let’s make a deal” you say with a chuckle. “I’ll show you a taste of me if you show me a taste of you.” Without waiting for a response, you start by kneeling down sucking on his scummy toes. Sour. Just how you like it. He’s still squirming in his bonds a little. “Step on me,” you say, as you smash your face to his sweaty feet over and over again, simulating him stepping on you. You catch a little movement in his crotch area. ‘Is he enjoying this?’ you ask, as you continue up Alex’s legs. You look back to make sure Scott is still in your control. He stands frozen, emotionless, but with a deep hatred in his eyes, twitching occasionally in his attempt to break free. You make him face Alex and force him to lift the corner of his tank top to give Alex a little tease, while you continue with your little treasure hunt.

You then peel away his compression shorts to reveal your prize. A concentrated bloom of Alex’s pheromones hit you. Ecstasy. You almost pass out on the spot. ‘Holy shit’. You can't control yourself as bury your head and greedily rub your face in his sweaty crotch. Alex is eerily quiet.

Rubbing the medallion, you issue your next command. You’re gonna need to divert a little magic to making this work, so you release some control of Scott as emotion and shouting return to him. It takes a minute or two but you’re able to get your bodies properly primed fro the next stage. You notice Alex shiver from a slight tingle in his body, while Scott continues his barrage of insults your way. “Shut up,” you command. His lips quiver and then shut. “Scottie, come tell Alex what his best friend is gonna do to him.”

Alex again looks at Scott with a pleading face as a twitching, emotionless Scott continues: “Alex, I’m gonna stuff you full of himm- full of my Ma,” you wince. Strong and stubborn as ever, you can’t even get him to call you master. “Man you’re gonna love it. I sold you out to save myself. Didn’t even have to think about it. Just like that.” You’re getting a little better at controlling his movements. “Now I’m gonna be the one to make sure I put all of him inside you” Scott continues, “I-I can’t wait to see him wear you like a s-suit, parading you around, s-swimming in your skin and no one will ever know. I can’t wait to see the new you, w-with a little fag pilot tucked safe inside, pulling on your strings, speaking for you, thinking for you, loving for you” Scott finishes with an unsettling, wide grin that you force him into. 

Emotion and control rush back to Scott’s face. “Alex...” he states in an apologetic tone, but Alex doesn’t even look him in eye. Again, off the corner of your eye, you can’t help but notice a ghost of a smile on his face before it returns to its sullen look.

“Ok, ok, enough you two. Let’s go put on a good show for our best friend Scottie”.

-End Part 1-

[canirove]

The Princess & the Football Player | Chapter 2

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"Ellie, are you listening to me? Ellie! Eleanor!"

"What?"

"Are you listening to me or not?"

"Of course I am" I reply.

"Then tell me, what was I talking about?"

"You... You..."

"See? You weren't listening. You were too busy looking at something on your phone" my sister Sophie says.

"I was just watching a video."

"Yeah, and smiling like an idiot. Let me see."

"No!" I say, hiding my phone.

"Eleanor, let me see!" she repeats, throwing herself at me and trying to take it from my hands.

"Sophie, stop it!"

"Give me that!"

"No!"

"Ha! Got it!" she says. She may be my little sister, but she always wins when we fight. "Let's see what had you smiling like that."

"It was nothing" I insist, sitting down on the sofa.

"Declan Rice? Who is he and why were you watching his funny moments on YouTube?"

"He is no one."

"He is... Ellie! He's wearing an England shirt! Is he one of the boys you and dad met the other day?"

"No, he is not" I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm sure he is. Let's check his Instagram, shall we?"

"Sophie, give me my phone back."

"No" she replies. "Oh, you already follow him! Of course you do. And wait, you have a photo together? You liar!"

"Sophie..."

"It was an honour and a pleasure to meet HRH Princess Eleanor this morning... A pleasure, uh?" she says with a mischevious smile.

"Sophie, give me my phone back!" I say, getting up again and snatching it from her hands.

"Do you fancy him?"

"I don't."

"He's fit. He isn't what you would usually call handsome, but there is something about him that makes him attractive. Did you speak to him?"

"I did."

"And? Was it love at first sight?"

"It was nothing, Sophie. Besides, he has a girlfriend."

"Does he?" she says, sitting next to me.

"That's what Google says. Though they also say that they haven't posted about each other in months, like for birthdays and anniversaries."

"You don't fancy him, but you googled his life" Sophie laughs.

"It was just a Google search because I wanted to know a bit more about him. Nothing else."

"Yeah, sure, of course. Is he going to Canada?"

"Yes."

"Then if he has a girlfriend, she should also be going to support him. You'll find out rather sooner than later."

"I guess, yes" I sigh.

"You fancy him, Eleanor."

"Will you stop annoying me if I say yes?"

"I will, I promise."

"Then yes, I fancy Declan."

"I knew it!" she says, clapping her hands in excitement. "Do you think he likes you too?"

"I don't know. After the event from the photo he did come to talk with me, and I felt... Something. I'm pretty sure we kind of flirted too.”

“Just kind of?”

“Ok, fine. We flirted. And I made him blush when I complimented his eyes.”

“Ah, Eleanor! This is so exciting!”

“No, it isn’t. Dad already warned me. I am not allowed to date a football player."

“But he didn’t say anythign about having one as your lover, did he?”

“Sophine...” I sigh.

"Ok, ok” she chuckles. “But can you imagine a football player being the next King of England? And one with an Irish name. You have a thing for them, don't you?"

"It's just a coincidence. Anyway, don't say a word about this to anyone, ok? No one can find out. No one."

"Pinky promise" Sophie says, lifting her little finger.

"Pinky promise" I say, interlacing mine with hers. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go get ready for tonight."

"Oh, that dinner party... Is Charles going to be there?"

"He is" I say, getting up from the sofa.

"Is mum still trying to get you back together?"

"She's relaxed a bit, but I'm sure she'll try again tonight."

"I mean, he is everything they want for you. Comes from a very wealthy family, has his own title, a good education, his own business, he's stupidly handsome..."

"And that's why things didn't work out between us. He is too aware of being all those things, especially handsome, which makes him have the word cheater written on his forehead. Besides, what about what I want for myself? Isn't that important?"

"I'm sorry, sis. But when you are supposed to be the future Queen of the United Kingdom... No, it isn't important" Sophie shrugs.

"Anyway, I better go shower. Are you sure you don't want to come?"

"And spend the night talking to boring people mum thinks will make the perfect husband? Hell no."

"Roberta will be there. I'm sure she has new gossip to share."

"As tempting as that sounds... I'll pass. But if she tells you anything about her cousin and his girlfriend, if they are back together or not..."

"I'll report back. About both of them” I wink.

"Great" Sophie smiles. "And while you are gone, I'll do a deep dive on Mr. Rice, see if I can find anything juicy. Like naked photos or something like that."

"Sophie!"

"What? You must know if he's fit for his role as future King in every single aspect. You'll need heirs, you know?"

"You... Whatever. See you tomorrow."

"Let's meet for breakfast and share our intel!" she says as I leave.

"See you at breakfast, Sophie."

[angelkurenai]

You’re magic, baby - Dean Winchester x Reader (Bodyguard AU)

Title: You’re magic, baby

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Word count: 4,525

Warnings: Language, Sexual tension, Voyeurism (I think)

Summary: The sexual tension between you and your bodyguard has always been too thick, you thought there would come a point when it would all explode right in your faces. Couldn’t go any further. That is, until you figured out it could. And while Dean is helping you put on a dress for an event, standing in front of the mirror you get a few ideas about how you could find other ways to use it.

“I swear, I honestly swear to you, one of these days I am going to call your manager and tell him you're going to be taking a break from all of this. No more Oscars, no red carpets, no late night shows no more any of it.” you heard he gruff voice of your bodyguard as you fixed the strap of your heels.

“I see.” you smiled to yourself “And how long do you plan for this break to last exactly?”

“Hmm maybe the rest of your life? Or maybe the rest of mine. Whatever gets the job done.” you heard a heavy sigh come from him “I'm in desperate need of vacation. Especially from joining you to this bloody show for the fourth time. Who knows what I'm going to have to witness tonight.”

“Aw darling.” you appeared from you walk-in closet, smiling at him “If you wanted to go on vacation with me, all you had to do is ask. It's not like I'd ever say no to showing you the lovely bikinis I bought three months ago.”

“You really have no mercy left for me anymore, do you?” he mumbled gruffly, shaking his head before running a hand down his face.

“Why? What else did I do?” you asked in disbelief “It's not like I made you come with me for swimwear or anything! I knew you would protest so I didn't even ask, what's the-”

“Yeah, and I guess I should thank my lucky stars for being spared one heart attack out of a thousand.” he said sarcastically before shaking his head “I wasn't talking to you, no. I was talking to whoever out there that could listen.” he looked up at the ceiling as you giggled at his dramatic stance “So that maybe they could take pity on me and give me one, just one calm night.”

“And?” you asked with a grin, moving towards your dresser “Any luck with that?”

“Well-” his eyes finally landed on you, as if he had almost been holding back from doing that or at least preparing himself for what sight could await him was he to look at you tonight “Taking a look at the dress-” he shrugged “Looks like they're having a fit at the moment. And my life and what I am currently going through is the joke.” he sigh and shook his head “What are you wearing?”

“Oh you like it?” you asked with a hopeful smile “It's called a slip dress.”

“Yeah oh trust me I know perfectly well what it's called. What I'm asking is why are you wearing it?”

“Why not? Because it shows a little more skin? I didn't take you for a prude, Dean.” you shook your head “Besides, I've been forever meaning to get one but after all that filming I was so tired that only now I got the chance to wear it. Sophie was wearing a lovely pink one the other day in case you not-”

“I don't care what your friend's been doing. I don't care what any other actress does, to be honest. I'm not their bodyguard, I'm yours and I am spending all of my day with you and not them. So how about appreciate it a bit by wearing something less-”

“Less what?” you looked at him a little disappointed and he almost felt his heart sink “Don't you like it?”

Less what, really? How could he put it into words?

How could he even put into words the fact that the fabric made you look nothing short of a goddess? How could he even put into words that the fabric was soft, a beautiful shiny silk that seemed to bring out a special kind of glow in you? A glow that he loved to take in whenever he saw; when you were happy and laughing, when you were carefree and singing, when you were basking in the sun in spring. A glow that came from within and could easily make heads turn, capturing any man's attention much to Dean's dismay. The fabric seemed to glide over every curve and edge of your body, making them stand out in the most beautiful way. Your skin looked alluring, to say the least, smooth and almost made of a softer material than that of the dress itself; begging for a touch. And the cut, the shapes the fabric took over your body, showing all the parts of your body that Dean had guiltily dreamed so many times about kissing. It showed much more skin than he would like for you to show on any occasion but at the same time he couldn't deny he saw how good you felt in it and therefore couldn't say no to you wearing it.

You looked ethereal. That was the word. That was the only word he could come up with, but never one he would use (never had found a reason to until now, that is) and therefore would earn a look or two. And not being ready yet to explain how undeniably alluring you were to him, he decided it was best not to put anything into words whatsoever.

“No it's uh-” he sighed and shook his head again “It's wonderful, sweetheart. And it looks great on you, actually. You're... you're stunning. I'm sorry.” such an understatement but he could never really tell you his opinion, no matter his feelings “It's just that you maybe, just maybe, could wear something less... Well, something with less chances of giving poor old me a heart attack? I'm barely surviving any these days.”

“Oh Dean, come on. You've survived worst.” you giggled, joking along “Besides, I'm sorry but this is actually a gift from Gal. She gave me this dress a long time ago and I really wanted to thank her by wearing it for a special occasion, you know?”

“Oh lovely.” Dean breathed out a bit sarcastically “So Gal hates me too, now.”

“She doesn't hate you, you silly.” you giggled again, turning to face the mirror on top of your dresser “Now, could you please help me with the straps? These two tie at the back, to keep it in place.” the moment you turned to reveal the nearly bare back he could swear the air got caught in his throat but he also knew you were watching him through the mirror so he kept his composure.

“Oh yeah, then explain the assassination attempt against me with this dress.” he muttered, half playfully and half... well, honestly, mostly trying to keep it together.

You snorted, shaking your head as you tried on different rings “You're so melodramatic sometimes, honestly maybe you should be the actor instead of me. But then again, that's why I love you this much.”

It took every bit of concentration and self-restrain in Dean not to show any reaction. Even if your words made his heat jump to his throat, even if shivers run down his spine and even if his hands, heavens his entire body, trembled as a result of hearing you say it again. He might look frozen on the spot but that still was a lot better than showing to you just how much it affected him; him and his treacherous heart.

“Dean?” your voice was barely above a whisper, indicating that maybe he wasn't so successful this time “Everything ok? Are you alright? I didn't-” you paused before you sighed softly “I'm s-”

“No” his voice came out gruff as if he had not spoken for days, but he had to stop you before you apologized. Because he knew that if you were to say you were sorry then it would be the breaking point for him. He'd just gather you in his arms right then and there and tell you he loved you too, and that was the last thing he needed right now. “No just-” he sighed, letting his head rest on your bare shoulder for just a few seconds.

“I was thinking-” he huffed a laugh, feeling proud for how genuine he sounded, and when he looked up again he tried to look just as casual as well “This really wasn't part of any of the training I did. Tell this to any other bodyguard and I bet you anything, they're gonna be jealous as hell. I mean, I can certainly think of a couple old friends who would. But above all else-” he almost grinned and took pride in ow convincing he looked when he saw his reflection in the mirror “I remember an ol' trainer of mine who preached about being able to put together a gun from scratch as if my life depended on it. If only he knew how much more scary it is to put together the laces of a dress like this. Talk about life and death situation.”

He had never felt more proud of himself, if not relieved, than the moment he heard your laugh and saw your shoulders relax. It wasn't your fault that everything was so complicated between the two of you, as it was certainly not your fault that Dean felt the way he did about you. He almost let out a sigh of relief himself but held it back in the end.

“More scary than putting out a bomb, that's for sure.” you grinned at him through the reflection “Imagine the headlines this will make if those straps fail to stay in place and the dress falls too loose. Maybe more than what deactivating a bomb would earn.”

“You can say that a-” Dean started, his eyes focused on making a second knot on those straps just for extra measure, before he paused mid-movement. He looked up again to see your reflection and narrowed his eyes at you “Please tell me that you didn't mean what I think you meant.”

“Depends on what you were thinking I meant.” you asked with a small innocent shrug that he didn't trust at all. But was maybe a bit thankful too because it took the conversation in a far different direction which that, at least, he knew how to handle.

“(Y/n)” his voice was warning “Please, just please, tell me that you are wearing some form of underwear underneath this. I don't care if it's even that weird magic sticky horror-stuff thingy you call a bra. I'll take anything at this point. Please.”

“It is a bra, Dean, and it doesn't work by magic. It's just as you said a bit sticky so that it doesn't need any straps.” you said casually and he rolled his eyes, not caring to know how it worked in the first place not when he'd freaked out the first time he saw it in your clothes and thought a murder took place, and not when this time he feared- “Either way, no bra is involved though, no. I kinda like it better like this.”

“Seriously?” his eyes widened and you shrugged once more before he let out a heavy breath, rolling his eyes upward “No mercy at all!” he shook his head before looking back at you “And then you wonder why I hate you attending events. I don't know if I'll even make it through the night, that's why. I'd even ask you to wear something on top but like hell you're gonna make it easier for me here.”

“Oh stop it you big baby. And are you done with that or what? What's taking you forever?”

“Just wait some more, will you? My very own sanity, if not will to live, is hanging by these two threads. I have to add another knot just to be sure.” he let out a long sigh, not informing you of how distracting everything else was, before he added a small bow in the end “There.” he breathed out, looking up again before bringing his hands up to rest on your shoulders and give a squeeze “You're perfect.”

“Not really, but thanks. I mean-” you sighed, offering him a soft smile “If you see me even a little bit like that, then it's all I need.”

He held your gaze through the mirror for a couple more seconds, a barely visible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He wasn't sure what to say but he realized a couple seconds later that he didn't need to speak. He nodded his head and, instead, leaned down and kissed your shoulder blade; every bit of doubt, every sense of logic and the small voice in the back of his head that reminded him he shouldn't be doing this because he worked for you, was gone at that moment. He was guilty for doing it as much as he was for enjoying it, specially the feeling on your skin under his lips.

“Anything else you need help with, princess?” he whispered, his breath ghosting over your skin.

“Well, I uh-” you bit your lower lip and lifted up a necklace “Thought I'd wear this as well?”

“You got it.” he took the piece of jewllery from your hands, working fast on it after taking a peak at you through the mirror “Something on your mind, sweetheart?”

“Oh nothing in particular.” you shrugged far too innocently for his liking “Just, you know, really enjoying this hotel and this room. Maybe we should make ourselves regulars here.”

“Mhhm” he hummed, waiting for the bomb to drop as he helped you with a coat too.

“Everything is lovely, from the room service to the bed, best sleep I've had in a while, to the bathroom. That bubble bath did wonders. It's all incredible, really. But then again it's maybe cause I had more free time than I usually get. To the point...” you trailed off for a moment and Dean knew it was close “That some things got me thinking.”

“Oh really? Thinking about what?”

“Oh you know, mostly silly things. I mean, for example I've been really looking at this mirror and you know how one thoughts lead to another and then another and you end up remembering something embarrassing you did in high school in front of your crush?” you rambled casually while Dean only frowned in confusion “So as I was saying I was looking at this wonderful mirror and thinking-”

“Will you just get to it?”

“You know about how some people don't look good in photos or in the mirror. You certainly look good in a mirror is all I'm noticing now and I was thinking that maybe-”

“(Y/n)” he meant to sound warning but was only heard as soft exasperation.

“Have you ever done it in front of a mirror, Dean?” you asked so simply, as if it was the most simple thing in the world. Catching Dean really off guard, probably more than any other time. His head snapped up and he met your eyes through the mirror, his own impossibly wide, especially as you gave him a curious smile. “You know, had sex with a woman while in front of a mirr-”

“Aaaand we're done here.” he let go of the coat, spinning around to grab his own belongings and your bag while shaking his head in disbelief “Let's go.”

“Dean”

“Nope. Come on, chop chop. One feet in front of the other and no more words out of you for the rest of the way to the studio.” he ignored you. Much like he could easily ignore the topic altogether.

“But I only asked a ques-”

“What did I say?” he gave you a pointed look which only made you have to fight a smile off your face “No. Words. And that was certainly much more than just a question. You've had enough. Hell, I've had enough. Move, come on. We're gonna be late.”

“Fine.” you sighed “But if you didn't wanna answer it, you could've just said so.”

“I'm not getting paid enough to answer that, (Y/n). Hurry up.” he stood by the now open hotel room door and tapped his foot.

Rolling your eyes you grabbed your phone which was still laying on your bed and the keycard. It was only on the way to the door you noticed the drink and bag of baked goods he had gotten for you. Knowing how he'd never let you hear the end of it if you didn't eat anything until you were done, you made sure to grab them as well.

“Alright, I'm ready Dean-o. Let's go.” you said though your words came out muffled, making him look up from his phone to see you holding the keycard in your mouth, which he made a face at.

“I've told you so many times. Don't put that think in your mouth, you don't even know where else it's been.” he huffed, taking the card from you.

“Tell that to the people who make women's clothing and include no pockets. This coat is worth thousands and yet fake pockets!” you shrugged before giving him a small smile “Besides, I thought you'd like it when I put things in my mouth. Then again, I suppose it might depend on the occasion.”

“You know what, (Y/n)?” he spun around to face you, small smile on his lips before it vanished with his next words “You're right. It does depend on the object.” he gave you a somewhat dark look which made you raise an eyebrow, feeling the pleasant shivers run down your spine at the low and gruff voice of your bodyguard.

“Do I?” you asked softly and he hummed, approaching you. You held your ground even if it meant he could pin you on the wall, or maybe exactly because he could pin you on the wall, with his hands and body if he wanted to. The fact that anybody could walk in on you only added to the thrill.

“Mhm” he hummed, licking his lips; and oh your knees felt weak “Cause I really think there is one thing that those sweet lips of yours need. One thing I wouldn't object to, like with that damn card.”

“Oh there is?” your back hit the wall.

“Yeah.” now he bit his lower and you knew you could just as well be done in that moment, but he kept going “And you wanna know what I really think would go perfectly with that pretty mouth of yours that seems to find the most creative ways to torture me on a daily basis?” he wouldn't take his eyes off you and it only made the temperature of your body rise. If you wanted to shed every piece of clothing you had on then it was entirely his fault. It has always been.

“Please” it came out breathless “Y-yes.”

“A good... big... maybe even one of the biggest you've seen... hard to move...” his words made your eyes widened “Piece of tape over your mouth to keep your from talking for the sake of my poor and very fragile sanity! That's what I'd like to see and oh trust me, my ears would love the silence just as much!”

“And here I thought we were finally getting somewhere.” you made sure to look him straight in the eyes, wanting to get your point across. Dean couldn't look away even if he wanted to.

“If you mean anywhere but the studios, then I'm sorry but I'm not following.”

“Bunch of bullshit, Winchester, and we both know it. Cause I'm sure as all hell that if I were to ask you-” you took a step closer, taking a deep breath and holding his gaze for a few more seconds “If I were to ask you whether you would want to take me right here and now, consequences be damned, you would say yes. And you would because I know you want it, but you've convinced yourself that you never deserve any of it. That's the main difference between us, I know I may not be good enough for someone like you, but I want to give you the best of me and even more after that.”

Dean didn't say a thing for a good few seconds, preferring to hold your gaze and let your words sink in. Not for himself, but for you; because he knew how much you needed it. He knew how much you needed to let it out, at least once in a while. This game you were playing was far from it, he didn't even know how he was holding it together when in reality none of it was playful. When he knew real well what you meant to him.

He pursed his lips when he felt himself choke; your words of self-doubt hurting him more than pushing you back ever could. To think that you were the one not good enough for him was gut-wrenching.

We've made it clear that none of it can happen. We agreed on it, didn't we?

You shrugged, letting out a slow breath. You knew he wasn't going to talk about it. Not like it was the time or place to do so, you didn't even know why you had bothered bringing it up in the first place. But then again what should surprise you more was how you were still holding back.

“And I was ready to go along with it but then... the bathroom door was kinda open and I can't change what you do in your personal time, sure, just like I can't help what I hear.” you responded with a small smirk and a shrug, before raising an eyebrow “Can I, Dean?”

“You-” the way his eyes widened would have made for a priceless reaction as it was, but adding the way he stammered over his words and the fact that his face had turned the perfect shade of red, the color more evident on the tip of his ears, was indeed a sight for sore eyes that made everything worth it. “You- What- How- When-” his eyes moved back and forth, taking your expression in and trying to understand your expression if not the entire situation.

Granted, it was a one-time thing. Barely that actually. And it happened before you could even comprehend it. It was that quick. Not like anybody needed more than half a second to understand things for what they really were. But it didn't last long

Or did it?

Truth be told, you were still not sure just for how long you'd been standing there in the room, the warm steam coming from the bathroom, right through the the slightly open door, finding your skin only to create more goosebumps than the ones you already had. It could have been half a second... but it could have also been much much longer. Maybe the small tear on your lower lip from all the chewing was an indicator but then again a great part of you did not even want to consider it was a possibility. A possibility that you had not jumped to turn around and leave that very same second you realized things for what they were.

You took comfort in the fact that maybe if the roles were reversed he would have done the same. Or that anyone would have reacted as you and frozen in place. But was it that way? Were you merely frozen in place or there had really been more to it?

You didn't even want to think about it for more than a couple seconds for fear of remembering something that would have your entire face on fire in seconds. It was best not to dwell on it. So clearing your throat, you brushed off any thought for when his eyes weren't glued on you, studying your every move. You weren't going to let him get the upper hand in this, even if it was silly to still think so.

Besides, in your defense it was and accident. A lovely if not entirely surprisingly unexpected one.

“Depends... how often does that happen?” you raised an eyebrow, biting the inside of your lip to keep yourself from grinning. Ut the urge quickly died out when you saw Dean's eyes darken and his jaw clench. Not because he was angry, he could never be mad at you as you had come to realize very quickly, but because the comment seemed to bring him back to reality. A reality where he had convinced himself that you couldn't get attached to each other.

“None of your business. But even if it was-” he shrugged, smirking “Still more of an active sex life than yours.”

“Oh yeah, and whose fault is that?” you narrowed your eyes.

He only faked innocence “Don't know what you mean. I'm just the bodyguard.”

“...You're an asshole. That's what you are.” you huffed when he was out of your personal space, shaking your head in disbelief.

“And yet you pay me money. I'd call that a fucking success. Now move your ass, otherwise we're gonna be late.” he motioned with his head.

“Yeah, well that doesn't make you an less of an idiot. I know-” you shrugged, falling into step next to him “I'll get another bodyguard. Most celebrities have at least two bodyguards-”

“Good luck finding the guy with enough patience.”

“Yeah, well, if I do remember correctly, that “friend” of yours is currently not working for anybody. You said you were coworkers before. The cute one with the pretty eyes, what was his name? You know whom I mean, right? The one I first met on the Met Gala?”

Dean scoffed a laugh,playing it off as nothing, though it was mostly to hide the unpleasant shock tat ran through him at the mention of the possibility. Of course he understood which one you meant. “First of, he's not my friend. In fact he's far from it.”

“Oh how could I ever forget? You always speak so fondly of him.” you grinned at Dean who shot you another look. Last time he had spoken 'fondly' of the man was when he had complimented you. It was during the after-party of an event which he didn't care to remember; all formal events were the reason for a headache to say the least. He was there because his boss at the time also was invited.

“Fondly-” Dean scoffed under his breath “You can say that again.”

“Well, yeah that one. My-” you continued anyway, not paying attention to his words “Why can't I remember his name? What's up with me and remembering people's names?”

“Maybe he wasn't so important after all.” Dean shrugged.

“With that kind of smile and eyes to die for? Are you kidding me? That man is, no doubt, the wet dream of at least half the female population and a good part of the male one. He's more famous than his boss. Please, I'd strike every deal with the man just to see hi- Oh, yes!” you exclaimed, jumping for a second “Yes, Steve Rogers!... I think I got his phone, don't I, Dean?”

“Yeah, oh lucky me, you actually do.”

“Splendid! Maybe he will how to put his tie to good use, after all.”

~~~

A/N: I already had ome parts up which in a way inspired more of this fic, the whole au!Dean and flirting is somethingI would like to do more of, maybe with some smut since it’s been a while since I wrote any. The way I did with neighbor!Dean, a mini series of individualt parts. Let me know your opinion and feedback is always welcomed!

[sarahjkl82-blog]

Artistic Instinct Chapter Nine

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 6500

Warnings: Language as always, warning of racist language (Nush talking about her mother's experiences), yearning, fluff to second base (yes, my darlings- IT IS ON!), alcohol is mentioned, food, anxiety attacks.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something. This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

People often think artists

Create with their hands

But really they create

with their hearts

So please be gentle

For we wear our vulnerability

On our sleeves

And freely give all we have

Hoping someone will fall

In love with the parts we offer

R. Evelyn

Chapter Nine

The sharp buzz of the door startles you out of your daydream. Laden with roughly the entire contents of your spice cupboard, vegetables, meat and prawns, your hands are crisscrossed with creases from where the weight of the totes has gouged at your skin. A smart-looking kindly gentleman greets you, “You must be Ms Pierce. Mr Pike has asked for you to wait here for him.”

Wow! Marcus’ place has a concierge - who did he have to blow to get a place like this?!

Throwing the bags onto one of the hotel lounge-like chairs, you slump into another as you rub soreness from your hands. A small ping tells you that the lift has arrived - you look over in the direction of the noise, a tremor of excitement rippling through you. An adorably scruffy Marcus, wearing old jeans and a t-shirt, steps out - his face utterly beaming on seeing you. “Hey! How are you doing?” he leans in to kiss your cheek twice - hang on, when did this start being a thing?

“Why didn’t you let me pick you up? You’ve carried so much over- lemme see your hands,” his brow knits on seeing the rapidly reddening welts as he takes your hands in his, brushing his thumbs gently across your palms.

“You live four roads away from me - they’re not that bad! And anyway, you can help me now- which floor do you live on?” You outwardly roll your eyes at the sweetness Marcus shows you, secretly enjoying the stroke of his fingers and the ghostly press of his lips still burning a hole in your cheek.

Marcus takes all of the bags from the chair, refusing point blank to entertain you helping him to take them upstairs - you watch as his arms twitch under the weight, enjoying the mixture of confusion and shock at your strength across his face, “you carried all of this?”

Nodding at him, you try to take a bag again, but he dangles it just out of reach, “Watch it - you do realise that I have two other brothers apart from Ads? I will think nothing of rugby tackling you to the floor and pinning you down,” you warn, enjoying the flush brought to his cheeks.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Marcus flusters as he calls the lift, handing you the smallest, lightest bag.

✪✪✪✪✪

Exiting at the top floor, you’re taken aback by the amount of light and quiet that washes throughout the building. Feeling so removed from the shadows cast from the tower blocks and the hustle and bustle of the streets below, the broad daylight offers a sense of serenity, a peace that invites itself into the soul and makes itself at home. As Marcus unlocks the door to his flat, you kick off your shoes at the entrance, “You don’t have to do that,” he offers through the keys in his mouth, holding the door open with his elbow, still refusing any help from you.

“Oh believe me, if I didn’t, my mum’s radar would go off and I would be cruising for a bruising,” you giggle, taking in the glorious spaciousness of his apartment, “I promise my feet aren’t too stinky and that I put on clean socks.”

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Marcus’ eyes crinkle at you, “Can I get you something to drink or eat?”

“A coffee would be ace - strong and black please,” you reply, your gaze drinking in the details of his home. Books line the shelves along one wall - such a mixture of titles ranging from airport bestsellers to obscure art catalogues - the relief to see actual paper and hardbacks adorning the shelves rather than trinkets and plants when so many keep their books electronically in their pockets.

A couple of large canvases lie propped against another - long hours preventing them from being hung - their bright colours sure to bring joyful hues to quite a stark room. There are a few photo frames dotted around - mostly pictures of a moment in time rather than poses - of people you assume are friends and family from back in the States. Handing you a steaming mug, Marcus looks over your shoulder as you look at a photo of an older couple dancing and laughing at a wedding, “That’s my mamá and papá at my oldest sister’s wedding. It was such a magical day - just so much love in the air.”

“You can feel the joy radiating from them,” you offer, lowering your gaze from him to grab the frame next to the picture of his parents, “Are these your sisters or cousins? You all look very alike.”

“Yeah, my little sisters,” he grins proudly. “This one is Beth - she’s two years younger and is a paediatrician in Texas. Has two kids with her wife, Sophie. And this one is Cat - she’s doing her own thing out on the West Coast as a musician. They definitely inherited all the clever and cool genes.”

“Hah! You’re kinder to your sisters than I am to my brothers,” you grin, “They’re all total idiots but due to some weird genetic and biological insistence, I still love them.”

Taking a gulp of your coffee, you turn back towards him, “Come on you, we’d better get to work if you want a curry this evening.”

He pouts, looking more like a sulky little boy than a middle aged man. You can’t help but laugh at the sad puppy dog eyes he is conjuring at the thought of work, “Oh poppet, what’s wrong?” you teasingly mock.

“I kinda hoped you were a magician who could just magic a curry outta nowhere so we could watch films til the others arrive,” Marcus grumps shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Well, there is UberEats for that but you horrible lot put me up to this so you’re going to help,” you wag your finger at him, “But as you’re the only one here, you get the honour of being the chief taster,” you add, tapping him playfully on the nose.

With a soft huff and a furrow of the brow, Marcus guides you into the kitchen where, whilst he was making your coffee, he has helpfully already put all the fresh produce in his fridge as the sides are delightfully blank apart from the bags of spices.

“What are we making today, Chef?”

“Ok, meat dishes are a spiced yoghurt leg of lamb, a keema - don’t you give me that look, a cardamom butter chicken, and, a prawn and courgette curry,” you turn to Marcus’ fridge to find the lamb, “Needs to come to room temperature before we cook it.”

“My tummy is rumbling already,” Marcus adds, his eyes glinting excitedly as he licks along his lower lip, the skin glistening damply. You have never quite figured out whether your love of his lips is due to their fullness or the association with the kindness of his words.

“Hah- you’re not getting away without having some veggies, too, mister,” you cluck as you hand him a bag of onions and several bulbs of garlic to skin, chop and crush for the various dishes.

“Ok, Moooom,” Marcus dramatically rolls his eyes at your dictate, “I admit, I’d rather eat sugary or salty things over green stuff but I can make an exception for curried veg.”

The arch of your eyebrow virtually reaches your hairline at him teasingly calling you mom, so you reach for the towel, twist it and flick him hard on what you’d hoped would be his hip but catch him square on his arse instead.

A yelp of pain and wide eyes greet your action, “Did you just…? Oh, it is on.! You might think you’re tough from your brothers but my sisters taught me sneaky tactics.”

“Come at me, bro!” you taunt from the other side of the kitchen, putting up a boxing stance.

Brandishing the hand without the paring knife in your general direction, he answers, “Nope, gonna use the element of surprise and attack when you least expect it!”

Tutting your tongue at Marcus’ weak ass response, you grab the spices you need to prepare under the power of your pestle and mortar. With the waft of roasting cumin soaring through the air and your battle with your boss at a supposedly declared ceasefire, everything starts to feel comfortable and easy again. You could be six years old and standing on the chair next to your mum, watching like a hawk as she lovingly prepared meals for your family with an ever burgeoning belly. It was then, during those hours shared in the galley kitchen that became your time with her when normally it felt pretty split between her work as a GP and your brothers.

What the fuck… You jump out of your skin when a warm, solid wall presses you out of your nostalgic reverie, “Hah! Pinned ya! Sneaky tactics- told ya they worked,” a deep, soft voice whispers in your ear.

Your heart flutters like a bird trying to escape its rib cage with the closeness of Marcus, the heat rising through your body from your proximity to him - a visceral response to the glorious cocktail of masculine smell from his aftershave and body wash.

What do I do next?

Why can’t I bloody think straight?

Wiggling yourself around so that you face him, his face now so close that you can feel his warm breath upon your cheeks. Your eyes playfully catch the steady gaze of Marcus’ deep soulful pools. It would only take the smallest of movements to reach forwards and kiss him right on that stupidly gorgeous, plush Cupid’s bow and crease. But… what if he doesn’t want that? He’s my fucking boss - that would be a stellar move to make…

Instead of the tiny incline forwards to press your lips against his as every inch of you screams to do so, you drop to the floor and crawl out from between his legs, “Not pinned well enough it seems,” you tease haltingly as your tongue sticks in your dry throat.

As you check the browning of the cumin seeds, out of the corner of your eye you see Marcus’ head drop sadly, hearing a small sigh - his hands still upon the work surface and feet not having moved from the position he had pinned you in moments earlier.

Did he want to...? No, surely not.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Nush,” Marcus humbly apologises, pushing himself off the side, “I hope that I haven’t made things awkward.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” you softly say, pouring the roasted cumin into the mortar, ready to be ground, “I was the one who flicked you on your arse - I am the one who should be apologising.”

You beckon gently to Marcus, who has now taken refuge in the furthest corner of the kitchen from you - wringing his hands instead of chopping the onions, “Come over here - I want you to experience one of my most favourite smells of childhood. These are roasted cumin seeds and when you grind them, they release the most heavenly scent.”

After a few grinds, you offer the bowl towards Marcus’ face as he closes the gap between you, “I… Wow! I wouldn’t have thought it would make such a difference but it’s almost like you’ve entirely transformed it. See,” the dimple deepens in that right cheek of his, “you are a magician.”

“I love how spices - a bit like paint - can take on completely different characters depending on how you treat them. Leave the spice whole and you have this mild and fragrant taste. If you crush them, then their attitude comes back tenfold with a vengeance. Toast them, and they may as well be Clark Kent in a phone booth.”

Looking up you see Marcus gazing at you with a sweet half smile on his face - could he like me… like that?

“Sorry, you don’t need to hear me blathering on,” you fluster, waving your hand in a dismissive gesture as the heat rises through your face.

Shaking his head gently without dropping your regard, “No. No, please don’t ever stop. Your passion for things is beautiful.”

“Growing up, I didn’t realise that other people didn’t have whole cupboards filled to the brim with herbs, spices and seasonings. I mean, for all the damage the British Empire reeked, you’d have hoped that the spices would have entered more of their culture, but no! Apparently, my family was the weird one for having food with a flavour,” you shrug your shoulders at some of the ridiculous things you’d heard as a child - accusations of differences you’d never thought to be of note.

Marcus chuckles at your indignance, “It’s funny you should say that. I didn’t realise that my mamá had an accent until it was pointed out to me when I was a kid.”

Noting your slightly confused expression, Marcus explains, “She’s Argentinian- came to the States as a political refugee as she was a journalist following the disappearances during the Dirty War. Met my dad, and I came along very soon after, and the rest is history..”

You can’t help but laugh at the flush on Marcus’ cheeks as he recounts his personal history to you, “Love can’t be held back when it hits and it’s obvious that they’re still crazy about each other now from that photo.”

“Exactly, no point in wasting time when you know what you want,” Marcus grins, looking at his feet.

“My parents have a similar story. My dad is as English as they come - I mean we’re on a freaking island so there’s no true thing as being completely English. My mum is from Pakistan - Karachi - it’s in the South.”

“She came over due to the fighting between East and West Pakistan - the two countries that are now Pakistan and Bangladesh. It kept interrupting her studies to become a doctor so she came to England and restarted her degree here.”

Marcus’ brow creases in thought, “Why did she restart her degree? Could the credits not just be transferred to the college she moved to in the UK?”

“Hah- yeah. It was the seventies, during a time where all Southern Asians were P*kis - no matter where they were from on the Indian subcontinent- and thought of as dirty, lesser beings. There were constant race riots for anyone who wasn’t ethnically white or English. She would never have been taken seriously with her mediocre medical training from some Adobe hut in the middle of a jungle,” you fume, pounding the seeds into fragments. The mortar being threatened with the same fate too.

Marcus’ fingers wrap around your wrist to try and prevent your rage at the ignorance of others from causing you an injury, “I am so sorry,” he pulls you into a warm, tender hug, tucking your head under his chin, “How long before food can take care of itself so we can put a film on? I think we both need a rest.”

“Hmmm, ten minutes and then most things can simmer or be switched off ready for a reheat or proper cook this evening,” you say, leaning reluctantly out of his comforting arms to go check on the bubbling saucepans of food.

“‘K. I’ll go get things set up so you can flop for a bit,” Marcus touches you gently on your shoulder as he goes to set up the front room. You go to squeeze his hand but it’s removed from your shoulder too quickly for your response.

✪✪✪✪✪

“You ready?” Marcus calls through the wall as you turn off the heat from the final pans.

“Mhm,” you mumble in response to his question - double, triple checking that everything is off. Too many fire alarms ruining perfectly lovely meals or moments.

“What did you pick?” You ask, curling up on the other end of the sofa to Marcus, “Do you have no cushions?”

“Shit, no -I’m a guy, what can I say? - lemme grab the pillows from the bed,” Marcus jumps up, calling through from his bedroom, “Bet you have loads on your couch.”

“A fuckload, but, mainly to hide the fact the springs have gone. It’s like a precarious balancing act of comfort on there,” you surreptitiously sniff the pillow, inhaling the smell of Marcus’ shampoo, “Did you give me your pillow?”

A confused look is shot at you from the other end of the sofa, “Whaddya mean?”

“Smells of your hair,” you say as you squish it into the perfect comfy shape, “Like a mixture of lemon and eucalyptus.”

“That’s a sharp nose you’ve got. I gave you the other side though,” Marcus huffs through a chuckles he shakes his head at your somewhat strange comment, “Guess I’ve been sleeping across both sides then.”

“Best thing about sleeping alone- getting to starfish across the bed. Unless of course…”

Marcus can’t help but laugh at your awkward dig to find out whether he’d brought home the goddess from Friday’s antics, “So you wanna know if I brought home Kemi?”

“She was very beautiful. You’d have been mad not to,” you try to school your expression as best you can, keeping your eyes glued to Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly singing about true love, desperate to hide the jealousy coursing through your veins.

“Must be mad then. Didn’t even kiss her,” Marcus honestly answers whilst copying your tactic of staring at the tv, “She could see that there was someone else I liked so it would have been cruel to have done anything.”

You mull this over in silence, trying not to speak, to ask a million questions.

“Nush.”

“Mhm?”

“Can I talk to y…”

You both jump as an alarm goes off on your phone to remind you to turn the lamb down in the oven.

“Oh shit. Hold that thought,” you jump up from the sofa, heading in the direction of the kitchen with zero thought of what the man at the end of the sofa is desperately trying to tell you. Fiddling with Marcus’ ridiculously swanky oven until it looks like it is doing what you want it to do, you walk back in with two ice cold beers from his fridge.

“Raided your fridge,” you cheekily grin, holding one out to Marcus, the condensation running, down your fingers, “Hope you don’t mind!”

“Good thinking, Batman,” Marcus nods in appreciation, “Any more alarms set to scare us both?”

“Only due to go off when the film is done, so…” you yawn widely, “We’ve got a while yet.”

Marcus’ hand that was slung over the back of the sofa, lifts to stroke your shoulder, “You sleepy? C'mere, you.” With a soft tug of your t-shirt sleeve, he pulls you into his side - your willingness to sink into his broad chest very apparent. Your ear is pressed against him, his heartbeat singing a lullaby to you as his fingers stroke and caress the silken waves of your hair. You wonder at how this man - a total stranger a week ago - has seemingly knitted himself into becoming a cocoon of safety for you, his gentleness and calm offering a haven of tranquility in your otherwise cacophonous world, as the light in the room slowly fades to black.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Uh oh.”

“Hey, welcome back, sunshine!” a gentle pair of fingers stroke back the hair that had drifted into your face as you dozed.

“Sorry for falling asleep. Again,” trying to finesse your way through the heat flaming your cheeks, you offer an awkward grin towards your chuckling pillow, “Guess we’d better start getting things finished as we’ve only got a couple of hours until everyone arrives.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Marcus! I don’t want to move either but this curry won’t finish cooking itself.”

“Spit spot, there’s work to be done,” Marcus trills as he adopts his best attempt at a British accent.

“What the fuck was that? Did you just turn into Dick Van Dyke or something?” You tease mercilessly at the appalling sound coming from those lips, choking back laughter at his mock offended face.

“C’mon, you’re right. We’d better get moving,” Marcus stands with a stretch and a creak before reaching back to tug you to your feet.

Back under the glowing lights of Marcus’ kitchen, his presence is now constantly close to yours as you glide together around the space - stirring, chopping and checking. Every time he passes, above the general aroma of cumin and coriander, the onions and garlic, you can smell the cedar and amber upon his skin- a deliciously masculine scent that only seeks to entangle your senses further.

“Here, try this,” you hold out a heaped teaspoon of mince curry to Marcus, “This is the keema - I promise that I only put in the two chillies you chopped for me, this time.”

“Mmm, that’s so good,” he says thickly between chews, stealing the spoon from you as he dives in for a second, third, fourth spoonful.

“Hahaha! Leave some for the others- and you need to try it with some raita and fried onions too,” you check through your dog-eared, yellowed and slightly sticky recipe book that your mum had handed you the day you’d left home at eighteen - a memo of all the times you had cooked them together.

“Shit, I’d better start the chicken,” going through the spices in front of you, you search for the cardamoms that would make the butter chicken sing, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Marcus’ head snaps up from the green beans he was preparing towards you, “What’s up, sweetheart?”

“I can’t find the cardamoms for the butter chicken - gah I knew I’d fuck this up!” you cry, scraping your trembling hands through your hair, eyes flashing around the room wildly as your cortisol rises, making you want to run and scream at your failure to feed your friends.

“Whoa - where’s this coming from? C’mon, look at me. Look at me, Nush,” Marcus has his hands on either side of your shoulders, squeezing them gently, “There’s enough here to feed our whole office for the week with the daals you prepared yesterday, the vegetables we’re about to make and the meats that we’ve cooked up already here. Andy is bringing all the rice and naan, Kiri is bringing beers and Dian is on gin and tonic duty. You have done more than enough and I will not allow you to get this upset over one missing ingredient especially when there is a small store downstairs that I’m sure will have it, if we cannot find it after we look for it together.”

After seeing your numb nod as an agreement, Marcus moves his hands to the side of your head to focus your gaze on him rather than the panic seeping through you. As he strokes his thumbs across your cheeks, you allow your eyes to close and your breathing to regain a normal pattern.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?” Marcus searches your now open eyes.

“My reactions are ridiculous. Most people tell me to stop being so stupid and that just whips the storm inside my head even more,” you whisper, “But you. You know how to slow everything down and stop the spinning.”

The corner of Marcus’ mouth twitches, “D’ya wanna know a secret?” You nod at him, “As you know, I was married before. When it ended, I totally spiralled. The world kept spinning too fast and I experienced constant anxiety, very nearly burning out of my role.

“I was lucky. My boss was understanding but made me promise to get some support. He knew of someone mental health trained within the FBI who was there for mainly hostage negotiations - not part of the true psych team but someone who could help without it turning up on your record.

“Kwame worked with me for almost a year - pretty much to the point my decree absolute came through. Our sessions were done on a track - by running with me, he was teaching me the skills I needed to control my fears. By my feet hitting the tarmac, he was grounding me. By going over running techniques, he was teaching me how to control my breathing- taking longer and deeper breaths. And running is just repetition. A mindful repetition that allows your brain to have a bit of a break.

“So when I see you start to spiral, I try to give you the same steps he taught me. Get you grounded, opposite me so you copy my breathing and hope that gets you on the right track.”

“Thank you,” you drop your head forwards, relaxing onto his chest. He feels so - safe.

“You don’t need to thank me. Well, okay maybe you do as look what I’ve just spotted,” Marcus holds the offending spice aloft.

“Oh my god, I could fucking kiss you. You have just saved the curry,” you dramatically declare, clutching the cardamom jar to your heart before placing it next to the other ingredients on the counter.

“Go on then.”

What?

His comment makes you snap your head over to catch Marcus’ tremulous gaze, his eyes darting between the floor and your lips. He takes a small step, closing the small distance between the two of you, threading his fingers between yours. Each slow movement offers an unspoken opportunity for you to step away. To tease him and move on with the day.

But why on Earth would you?

With your heart racing faster and faster, you lure him ever closer with your eyes, soft but absolute in their conviction of what was about to pass between you. A small part of you understands that when you kiss him, something will change forever. That within his lips you may find the place to call home - the aching in your stomach may cease and life could start to make sense again. The anxieties of the week washing away, the pain of your collective pasts and the hint of a brighter, happier future before you.

When he doesn’t move again, you seize the moment. Pushing up onto your socked tiptoes, you tilt your chin, inclining your face until your lips come to rest upon his in the sweetest, chastest kiss. Drawing back slightly to check that Marcus is okay with a raise of your eyebrows and widened eyes, he holds your gaze steadily, similarly stunned - a mirror of each other with racing hearts and slightly parted lips. It’s like in that moment everything around you ceases to exist as anything other than extraneous nonsense - all the noise inside your head silenced by that one touch.

A small dumbstruck smile creeps across Marcus’ lips before he lowers his head to press another gentle kiss upon you. Then another. Then another. Each press of your lips a little longer. A little deeper. Your lips part to allow his tongue entry as every single thought is quietened by the taste of him. Dropping hands for his to cradle your face and yours to thread through his hair as your bodies press together tightly.

Oh the taste of him is utterly exquisite! From where you’ve been using him as chief curry taster, there’s an element of spices with the tiniest hint of mint. And how you have missed having that beautifully solid warmth of his body next to yours. Inhaling his breaths that fall upon you, your hearts match each other’s rhythms as your lips explore each other, every sensation drawing together to create a humming ball of energy, like you are standing at the point where lightning strikes the Earth.

✪✪✪✪✪

Hands fisted tightly in each other’s clothing - both stuck in the quandary of wanting to tear the fabric from your bodies but also frightened of pushing the other too far. Finally pulling apart, you gaze upon Marcus - all lust blown pupils and dopey smiles. Your foreheads come back to rest against each other, unable to quite let go just yet, not wanting to break the spell and return to reality.

“I have wanted to kiss you since perhaps the first time I met you,” Marcus murmurs as his lips gently ghost over your cheeks, “Maybe even from seeing the photo in your file when Andy drove me here from the airport.”

“Was the person, me?” You quietly ask, finally with the confidence to finish that conversation, “The reason you didn’t kiss or sleep with the goddess?”

He drops his eyes as he gives you a small nod, “Normally, I’d have just asked you out but I was scared of fucking up. It’s been a long time since I felt a spark with anyone.

“You’ve entered my life in this whirlwind of intelligence, beauty and tenderness - I didn’t want to frighten you or make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t reciprocate.”

A thousand thoughts flood your mind as Marcus says those words. All at once, you want to tell him how safe he makes you feel. How much now that you’ve started kissing him, you never want to stop. How the cruel critics of slumber, silence themselves when you feel his heartbeat against your cheek.

Instead you stand there, silent.

Trying to stroke out the creases you’ve created in his t-shirt as you attempt to find words to put into a logical order, you notice his face twitching when the material under your fingers makes contact with his sides, “Oh Marcus, are you ticklish?”

“Um, no,” Marcus tries to deny breezily as he takes a small, hesitant step back from you, pretending to steady himself.

Making a small movement towards him, your hands at the same level as the point of the bunched fabric - you ask, “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah,” Marcus is now eyeing you suspiciously - desperate to kiss you again but also a little worried as to what havoc your fingers might reek.

“Then, why are you moving away from me?”

“No reason…” his usually deep voice now a little tighter and higher, “Nush… What are you about to ARGH!”

His knees crumble beneath him as you attack his sensitive sides, “Gah! Quit it, woman,” he weakly commands between wheezes and hoots of laughter.

Taking full advantage of Marcus’ prone and vulnerable position, you take the opportunity to straddle him - effectively pinning him to the floor, “This is how you pin someone.”

“I let you pin me,” Marcus corrects you with a wink.

“Oh really?” you contest, entirely unconvinced by his bravado.

“Yeah,” he says with a small wiggle, bringing his hands to the back of your head, “Cos y’see, I can flip our positions quite easily.”

Suddenly, you find yourself flat on your back in Marcus’ kitchen with zero air in your lungs to form any sensible thought other than to kiss him hard. His large hands cradle your head as he props himself gently above you on his elbows. You feel his entire body covering yours. Deliciously pressing against every single inch of you and oh how it takes every bit of the minutismal amount of self control you have to not beg him to fuck you senseless into that floor.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Shit, is that your door?”

“Fuck,” Marcus pushes himself up to kneeling between your legs, “Can we pretend we’re not in?”

The harsh realisation of an evening with your colleagues, albeit lovely people, sinks in to you both.

“Nope,” you groan, popping the p with a deflated gusto, “Hang on, don’t buzz them up until I’ve tucked my boobs back into my bra.”

“I dunno, makes for easier access,” Marcus lopsidedly grins with a wink as he heads for the door.

“You certainly didn’t seem to make hard work of it earlier,” you mumble at him, before you affix a smile to your face, “Hey! How are you all doing?”

A sea of never ending hugs envelopes and separates you from Marcus as everyone piles into his apartment. The stupid grin still firmly in place on your face since you’d first kissed, you find that every time you look over at him, he’s gazing right back, mirroring that lovestruck smile.

“Oh my god, it all smells so amazing,” Dian waxes lyrical, squeezing you tightly as she inhales a lungful of exotically scented air, “What’ve we got?”

You take her by the hand into the kitchen to show all the different things you had bubbling away. Andy ducks into the kitchen behind you, laden with bags filled with pilau rice, naan and chapatis, and a beautiful small bunch of spring flowers in his other hand - tiny tête-à-tête daffodils with multiple heads along each stalk, brilliant yellow and red tulips standing like soldiers and the otherworldly looking stems of hyacinth, wickedly scenting the air under your nose as he thrusts them under there.

“Hey pretty girl, here’s all the bits you asked for. You deserve a much bigger bunch for what I’ve roped you into but I know you love the early blooms,” he offers by way of apology, sticking a kiss to the side of your forehead, “Smells fucking good though as ever. Hope you don’t mind but I’ve brought a box to take some home for Greg - he was a jealous arse this evening so I suppose I should share.”

“You know the way I cook, enough for several small armies,” you wonkily grin at him, truly thankful for the part he’d had to play, “‘Fraid there’s no easy way to say this and you will have to be the one to break it to Greg, but there’s no butter chicken tonight.”

“You’d better have a damn good excuse for this slatternly behaviour, madam,” Andy gives you a serious side eye for this infraction.

“Well…”

“Initially Nush couldn’t find the cardamoms but then we ran out of time. Plenty of food here, though,” Marcus answers for you, his hand gently holding your hip as he reaches around you to grab a couple of beers from the fridge.

You see Andy catch Marcus’ hand lightly stroking your side as he walks back to Kiritopa, but are entirely grateful when his expression and mouth say nothing. The light chatter in the kitchen, whilst Dian dips a teaspoon into all the pots, is interrupted by a small knock at the door. Sticking your head around the kitchen door, you spot Marcus opening the door to a nervous-looking Harper. Andy sidles past you, to pull her into the main room, rather than her previous position of standing on the doorstep, utterly awkward and obviously feeling quite out of place.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind me coming. I know I wasn’t there Friday but I don’t really do large crowds and drinking.”

You walk over to her amidst the chorus of “not to worry”s and “lovely to see you”s, “Fancy something to drink now? Got plenty of soft options and I think I’ll stick alongside you as I’ve got to make sure I don’t burn stuff.”

“Including yourself, this time,” Harper retorts quickly with a small smile and a raise of her eyebrows.

“Hah, chance’d be a fine thing,” Andy laughs, slapping your shoulder before turning back to clink bottles and talk with Kiri and Marcus.

✪✪✪✪✪

Through the full length doors of Marcus’ balcony, evening spring sunshine streams through, bathing the group of your co-workers in a gentle, diffused light that flows around the room coating you in a golden glow. You all eat your fill and then some, with full tummies and tired eyes - the kitchen still full of half eaten dishes.

“Can we make this a weekly thing?” Kiritopa asks through a mouthful of food, hopefully.

“Not unless we take it in turns or get a take away - I don’t have the physical or emotional energy to make this level of curry every weekend,” you pointedly remark, looking up from your coke to meet Marcus’ eyes.

You’ve spent the evening barely speaking to each other for fear of alerting the others but surreptitiously brushing past so that you can sneak touches. Tender hidden strokes that feel like the kindest stitches on hidden, gaping wounds.

Marcus stands up to help usher the evening to an end and get you to himself again, “I have some boxes for y’all to take food home as otherwise, I’ll be eating this for weeks - delicious as it is.”

Everyone thankfully takes their boss’ hint and head into the kitchen to grab platefuls to reheat after long days. Slowly saying their goodbyes, your friends drift off in the direction of their homes as you throw yourself in an exhausted heap of bones on his sofa. Two strong hands grip you under your arms, to drape your torso across his lap.

“Hey tired girl,” you slightly open your eyes to spy a smiling Marcus gazing down at you. His fingers draw lazy patterns over the sensitive skin of your neck.

“I’d like to take you on a proper date this week. Wanna do this properly. Make a bit of a fuss.”

“Yeah? Not just pin me down and ravish me on the kitchen floor?” you grin widely at him.

“Well, I’d hardly call that a ravishing…” your eyes widen, eyebrows raising at Marcus’ comment, excitement pooling in your tummy, “Yeah, I saw there’s an Argentinian restaurant in Blackheath so how about steak, Malbec and homemade ice cream before I bring you back to either yours, or mine, for another, even better ravishing?”

“That sounds amazing, although with the amount of food in my belly, I may never have to eat again,” you give your stomach a rub, “But the ravishing…”

Hauling you up to sitting across his lap, you protest loudly, “I am going to crush your legs.”

“Stop making ridiculous comments and c’mere,” Marcus demands as he gently turns your head towards him, stealing a delicate kiss from you.

“I...should… - argh! Stop kissing me for a second,” you beg halfheartedly, “I should go home.”

“Stay.”

“Please stay,” Marcus desperately entreats you, “I’m not expecting anything but I’d love it if you stayed. I know you’ve got nothing here but give me two minutes and I can have a spare toothbrush for you. I’ll drop you home early tomorrow morning so you can grab some clothes and then we can go into work together?”

It feels as though the wind is knocked out of your lungs with the depth of Marcus’ need to be around you.

How does he do it?

“There’s no games with you, are there?” you twist in Marcus’ lap so that you now straddle his thighs, placing your hands on either side of his ridiculously handsome face.

“No,” he shakes head slowly, all the while holding eye contact with you, “I’m too old and I know what I want.”

“What’s that?”

Stroking his hands up and down your sides as he nuzzles your neck, he clearly and confidently declares,

“You.”

Tag list of glory (as ever, please ask to be put on or dropped from the list): @astroboots @silverwolf319@sirowsky @leonieb @disgruntledspacedad @bison-writes @the-ginger-hedge-witch @danniburgh @sugarontherims @green-socks @tardisfangurl @absurdthirst @pedropascalito-deactivated20210 @mouthymandalorian @mrsparknuts @zukoyonce @agirllovespancakes @yespolkadotkitty @lunaserenade @theravenreads @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

[some-days-we-get-sundays]

Part 2-

Part 2 of this prompt fill about Ryan being exhasted and Sophie being a comforting friend. Read part one here.

Sophie took in Ryan and Mary’s loft. The warm smell of Ryan hit her first. Ryan’s perfumes, hair products, lotions, body wash, and vegan candles caressed her senses. They danced along with the faint scent of Mary’s products and whatever detergent and fabric softener both Mary and Ryan used. They must have just done laundry. Ryan watched as Sophie took in her surroundings. Sophie hadn’t been back here since the clue master night and playing never have I ever. 

“Make yourself comfortable. I’m gonna make some tea.” Ryan said, her voice lacking the pep and spunk it usually had. Sophie took note of this.

“Hey, why don’t I make the tea. You really do sound exhausted. And all those shots probably didn’t help.” Sophie said. She went over and gently put her hands on Ryan’s back, guiding her over to the couch. “Sit down, I’ll be back.” 

“You know how I like my tea?’ Ryan questioned, there was a hint of amusement in her voice. 

“I know a lot more about you than you think, Ryan.” Sophie said. 

___________________________________________________________

“Alright, here we go. Tea for two.” Sophie put the scolding hot mugs down on the coffee table. She looked at Ryan and was a little surprised to see her still awake. “You don’t have to fight off sleep Ryan. Even Batwoman needs to rest and recharge.”

“I wish there was time to rest and recharge but there isn’t.” Ryan brought her hands around one of the mugs of tea, feeling the warmth radiate through her.”

“If there isn’t time you have to make time.” Sophie said matter-of-factly. 

“Tell that to all the criminals in Gotham.” Ryan said rolling her eyes at Sophie’s suggestion. Sophie made a face, letting Ryan know she had a point. 

“Ok well, now you aren’t alone, you’ve got Luke out there fighting with you.” Sophie offered desperately. 

Ryan gave a dry hallow laugh. “Luke is like a baby learning to walk with that damn suit and his new superhero abilities.” Ryan put air quotes on superhero abilities. 

Sophie raised an eyebrow and sipped her tea. “Ohh are we not liking the fact that Luke is Batwing?” 

“No, it’s not that. It’s just, remember how reckless I was when I first put on that batsuit?” Ryan asked.

“Well, you’re still reckless.” Sophie quipped.

“Shut up, you know what I mean. Luke is still wet behind the ears and I feel like I have to protect him before he-”

“Gets himself shot again.” Sophie finished. Ryan said nothing but the look on her face said that was one of the things bothering her. Sophie got up and sat next to Ryan. 

“I’m sorry that still hurts you so much Ryan. And I wish there was something I could do to take the pain of that memory away. But he’s safe, we saved him. And now he’s got a bullet proof suit and is learning how to defend himself and keep others safe. He’s following in your footsteps. And I know I give you shit but he looks up to you and I’m not surprised in the least. You’re so amazing Ryan. You’ve always been, and I’m sad I didn’t see it sooner.” Sophie looked at Ryan with so much sincerity in her almond eyes. 

Ryan couldn’t help it. She leaned up against Sophie, mimicking their positions when they were in Coryana surrounded by the burning land and Ryan’s dying breaths. “Thanks, Sophie. Mmmh you smell good, I’m gonna just lie up against you for a little bit. Rest my eyes. If you don’t mind.” Ryan said sleepily. 

“Hold on.” Sophie said. She got up and placed their empty tea cups in the kitchen. Then she dimmed the lights in the loft and grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch. Sophie sat back down next to Ryan and put her arm out so that Ryan could cuddle up into her. Sophie put the blanket over the both of them. They had never in their lives before cuddled with each other but Sophie felt right about this moment between her and Ryan. 

“Ryan, I want you to know that I care about you. If you ever feel stressed or overwhelmed or scared, please come and talk to me. I know you’re used to talking to Mary but I’m here too. I noticed you don’t have a lot of friends and I know it’s because you’re Batwoman and it’s hard for Batwoman to have friends because it’s hard to live a double life and only be able to share half of yourself with the people you love. But you can share all of yourself with me. Share whatever you want. As much or as little but just know that I’m here for you.” 

Sophie looked down at Ryan in her arms. Ryan’s eyes were shut and her breathing was even. Sophie smiled. She didn’t mind that Ryan had fallen asleep. She knew Ryan needed it. And she wasn’t upset that Ryan didn’t hear all of what she had to say about how she cared for Ryan and how she was going to be there for her no matter what. Sophie would tell Ryan in the morning. She’d deiced she would tell Ryan often just how important she is to Sophie and how much she means to her. She’d tell Ryan that she was amazing. And maybe just maybe she would tell Ryan how cute she was when she was asleep. Sophie hummed in deep thought, and she too eventually drifted off to sleep with a very tried Batwoman in her arms.

[gay-otlc]

Keepers of the Chaos (Chapter 2)

Summary: Tam, Linh, Keefe, Biana, and Fitz are part of the tiny fandom for Keeper of the Chaos, and Tam and Linh's podcast convinces some of their other friends to watch it as well. The group finds themselves strangely invested in this show, where students at Tumblr High School who work together to write about an elf named Sophia, cause incomprehensible chaos, and fight their rival Pinterest High School.

Content warnings: Cursing, food, L*ura

Word count: 2005

Notes: Check out the beautiful theme song here!

(Read on AO3)

Sophie rolls her eyes as she opens the link her girlfriend sent her and puts in her earbuds. Biana has been incessantly pestering her to watch Keepers of the Chaos for so long that Sophie half wants to watch it just to shut her up, but she's always tired, or busy, and she doesn't really like watching new things. Still, Biana asked her very nicely to listen to this one podcast, and she looked very pretty when she asked, so Sophie's dumb omni ass couldn't refuse.

"Welcome to the Twins of the Chaos podcast," it begins after loading for an obnoxiously long time. The girl speaking has a pretty voice, Sophie has to admit- sweet and melodic and vaguely amused.

Maybe listening to this podcast won't be so bad if she can listen to that girl's voice the whole time.

But another person speaks, adding "Where some chaotic twins discuss our favorite show, Keepers of the Chaos," and his voice is not as pretty. She continues listening anyway, since Biana may or may not murder her if she stops.

The two voices- whose names are Linh and Tam, apparently- start talking about Keepers of the Chaos some more, giving Sophie a summary she's heard tons of times from Biana and Fitz- though the twins explain it slightly more coherently and with less... whatever the verbal equivalent of keyboard smashing is. Biana usually starts rambling about her favorite characters, like Lynn- not "Lynn the fandom mom," but the other Lynn- and Avery, or sometimes Nora and Darwin. Sophie doesn't understand any of those names and loses track of the conversation as soon as it involves too many unfamiliar names.

But Tam and Linh are making more sense, at least for the most part, until they start mentioning specific couples. The conversation gets again comprehensive soon enough, though, and Sophie does smile at the name "The Dark Duck."

By the end, when Tam says "half of them wearing sleeping masks with teal eyes painted on and the other half watching the chaos with mild amusement," Sophie is curious enough to be mildly intrigued. She listens to their outro music, and before she can regret it, types out a text message to Biana.

Sophie: fine

Sophie: ill watch it

Biana responds instantly with an array of heart emojis. Sophie blushes.

Biana: can i come over and watch with u?

Sophie: ok!

Sophie: moms making mallowmelt

Sophie: but u cant have any

Biana: >:(

Biana: hope u like being single then

Sophie: fine u can have some mallowmelt

Biana: yayyyy!

Biana: ily

Sophie: ilyt

Sophie: now lets watch ur stupid show

Biana: on my way!!!

Sophie smiles, shaking her head. She's a little annoyed, but fine, it sounds interesting enough from the podcast. And what else would she be doing? Studying? Having US history as an alternative would make even the most horrible of shows seem good. She stuffs her textbooks into her backpack and shoves some things out of the way so her room looks a bit neater before rushing downstairs. The mallowmelt smells good enough to make her mouth water.

"Mmm..." she sighs, barely taking time to let it cool off before taking a large bite. "That's so good. Thanks, Mom."

Edaline  smiles. "You're welcome. Just save some for your father and I."

"Fine, fine. I have to share with Biana, anyway." Sophie huffs and takes another bite. "She's coming over, is that alright? We're going to watch a show together."

"Sure, just make sure to get your homework done."

Sophie rolls her eyes. "Fine."

"And keep the door open!" Grady calls. Edaline laughs as Sophie's face flames.

"I'm going back to my room," she grumbles, taking a plate of mallowmelt with her and walking up the stairs. She manages not to trip over her own feet and drop the mallowmelt, thankfully, as she grabs her laptop and opens Netflix. Sighing, she searches for Keepers of the Chaos and clicks on the show that comes up before waiting for Biana to arrive.

The doorbell rings soon, and Sophie carefully sets down her laptop and her plate on her bed before rushing down the stairs. Panting slightly, she opens the door for her girlfriend. Biana's wearing a t-shirt with the Amsterdam flag on it. Sophie has no idea why. Maybe Biana likes the country? Her girlfriend is pretty weird. "Come on in," she says, realizing she's been staring. In her defense, Biana is pretty and Sophie is very omni.

"Ready to go watch Keepers of the Chaos?" Biana asks. She bounces on her toes slightly.

"Alright," says Sophie. "I set it up on my laptop in my room."

"Awesome! You'll love it."

Sophie follows Biana up the stairs and into her room. They sit on the bed together, Sophie leaning against the wall and Biana leaning against Sophie, and Biana presses play. Somber kazoos begin playing in the background as the theme song starts.

We're on the edge of chaos

No one is straight

We're making fanart

Because L*ura we hate

And we're gonna have teal eyes in the end!

We must be weird, and we must be gay

(We must be gay!)

We will find every bit of sanity that we have

And give it all to Lynn

Ohhhh

We must be gay!

Biana dances a little along with the song, and Sophie can't help but smile. A curvy, round-faced person with short dark hair and colorful earrings plays a few notes on the piano, and then a KEEPERS OF THE CHAOS logo flashes across the screen. Then, a group of students sit in a classroom.

"Shai! Tater! Lynn! You three finally got together?" says the same person who just played piano, gesturing to a redhaed wearing a Sappho lesbian flag cape. She's holding the fingerless-gloved hand of a lanky person with brightly colored hair, and they're holding hands with a tall girl who has chin length brown hair. The rest of the class applauds the fiancees before returning to their own conversations.

"Yep! Thanks, Ink," says Tater.

Ink smiles at them and turns to a person with light brown skin and golden hoop earrings partially covered by long dark hair. "Hi, Kiri, how was your break?"

"Good! Here's to a good 2021?" Kiri turns to the person next to them. "How about you, Ref?"

Ref has short brown hair and red glasses. "Yeah, my break was dOPE," she says, leaving everyone to wonder how he did that with their voice. "oH, and happy belated Hanukkah to Shai!"

"Thanks, you too. And guess what! I didn't set my hair on fire this year!"

A short guy with strawberry blonde hair looks concerned. "Um. Congratulations?"

"Thanks, Sam!"

Sophie looks away from the screen and at Biana. "There are a lot of characters..." she mutters.

"Yeah, but you get to know them well enough eventually," says Biana. "Now shh, let's keep watching!"

A lot of other characters are introduced in various conversations, and Sophie's brain has a hard time keeping track of them all. She does remember Tara, a curvy, bored-looking girl with long sideswept bangs, and Blue, a bisexual who may or may not be an arsonist. She doesn't know either of their personalities very well yet, but she likes them so far. Lucat, a pale, blue haired asexual, who later joins the Hanukkah conversation, also seems cool.

Once quite a bit of introductions are done- Sophie lost count at around twenty something- are over, an announcement comes over the school's loudspeakers.

"Welcome back, Tumblr High School!" announces a voice. "I hope you all had a good break. Now, the Tumblr staff have an important announcement for you all. High schools in this county, like ours, Pinterest High School, and Instagram High School, will be holding a competition. All members of the winning team will receive a scholarship to AO3 college. If you are interested, meet in room 69 after school. Now, onto other announcements..."

Somber kazoos play again as the principal's droning voice fades into the background. A montage of the previously introduced characters wishing they could go to AO3 college moves across the screen. After a few minutes of them zooming through school and talking about how fucking boring it is, all of them gather in the room (some of them with more jokes than others) to discuss the competition.

A blonde woman welcomes them into the room. They wait a while to make sure no one else will arrive, but once everyone is there, the woman clears her throat. "Hello, everyone! I'm glad you're interested in joining the competition. My name is Shannon Messenger, and I'm in charge of admissions at AO3 College. My coworker L*ura and I designed this competition."

Sophie gasps and looks at Biana. "L*ura? But isn't that the person they hate? They said that in the intro!" Biana smiles at her, and she blushes as she realizes that she's kind of... maybe... invested in the show now. She decides she'll endure the "I told you so"s later and looks back at the show, trying to telepathically tell the characters not to trust this L*ura person... and perhaps not Shannon either. It's too early to tell whether Shannon will be an antagonist or not.

"All of you will be working as a team to write a story together. The main premise is that a twelve year old girl named Sophia is a telepath, but she can't tell anyone her secret. Then, she meets a teal-eyed boy named Finn, and he tells her that she's an elf. She travels back to the elf world with him, where she struggles a bit at the elf school Firefox, makes friends with some other elves, learns that she is an illegal creation of a rebel group called the Dark Duck, and another rebel group- the Rarelynoticed- tries to kidnap and kill Sophia and her friend Deck. There are other details to be included into the story, which will be given out to the participants as a packet. The object of this competition is not to determine your ability at coming up with story ideas, but your ability to work in groups and execute well developed ideas. Does anyone have any questions?"

Someone raises their hand- a short, tanned girl. "Lynn?" prompts the principal.

"Did you say the rebel group was named the Dark Duck?"

"And the Rarelynoticed?" adds another person, with rectangular glasses and a red bracelet.

"Raise your hand before speaking, Auran," scolds the principal. "But yes, those are the names."

"Alright then," Auran mutters.

"Unless anyone else has questions, we'll be sending out sign up forms for everyone interested, and then we will distribute the information packets about your story. You can talk to each other and start planning."

No one else has questions, so once they've all filled out the sign up form, they gather in small groups and flip through the packets, making sarcastic comments or mocking names ("'Rarelynoticed' though-" a stylish hijabi named Raiin sighs as they come across a page of information about the group) as they try to form some semblance of a plan. Once they all agree that they've made a lot of progress, they make plans to meet up again soon and walk back home.

Unbeknownst  to them, a pair of ominous teal eyes watch from above.

Somber kazoos play once again, and the credits roll.

"So, what'd you think?" Biana asks as Sophie closes her laptop.

Rather inaudibly, Sophie mumbles "It was good."

"What was that?"

"It was good! I liked it!"

Biana grins. "I told you so." She leans over and kisses Sophie on the cheek. "Thanks for watching it. I have to go do some homework, awesome seeing you!" As she walks out, Sophie hears her singing under her breath. "We must be gay..."

[khaleesiofalicante]

OK MY ELECTRICITY WENT BUT IM HERE WITH MY LIVE BLOG. Im also wearing a tiara i found during cleaning at 2 38 am...

LXI'S STILL HAVING THOSE DREAMS

You see, that’s how Lexi functioned. Unlike Selena who had a weekly planner with her name doodled on it, Lexi didn’t like having a schedule. She would decide what she wanted to do when she wanted it.

SAME LEXI SAME

IM SORRY IF THIS IS MSOTLY IN CAPS IM TOO EXCITED

lexi

lexi why are you in pain

what what what

whats happening

im freaking out

GEORGIA

There were six of them. Each handle in one colour of the pride flag.

gimme

THE ACADEMY

NO NO NO

these demons can talk as well.

that's what bothers me the most

CLARY STFU YOU KNOW DAMN WELL YOU FOUGHT A WAR AT 15. I know she's worried for valid reasons but im losing it right now.

calm its ok its gonna be ok

georgia collecting the ichor-

i love her so much

Lexi didn’t think it was possible, but the sight somehow made her gayer than before.

me every time i look at amy or rosa from b99

OLIVIA

“Of course you are not dying!” Lexi said severely. “Neither one of us is allowed to die before we finish binging Game of Thrones.”

with the major character death tag right there

dont make me think of georgia getting sick

dont

The bar was extremely low for shadowhunters.

yes it is

OH MULTIPLE POVS

RAFAEL

did i just sob "my child" ?

maybe i did

im so proud of him

LEAVE ME ALONE

wait but in tid sophie was over the age of ascention too

WAIT HOW OLD WAS SOPHIE AT THE AGE OF ASCENTION

WAIT OMG SOPHIE WAS YOUNG

I FORGOT ABOUT THAT

“Life is too short for bad blood,”

yeah. yeah it is

i still really like camilla

He could go to Mexico right now. His heart wanted to do it. His body screamed at him to do it.

It wasn’t the distance that was the problem. He had two warlocks at home. He had a bike. He had money to buy a plane ticket.

It wasn’t the distance at all. Rafael would walk to Mexico for her if necessary.

i screamed so loud here i was grateful for the closed door

CHAIRMAN MEOW

CYUKGUCDGYMDYUD

THE PRECIOUS CAT

WHAT IF THE MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH IS ABOUT CHAIRMAN???

“Y’all really be acting as if portals are like a bag of Cheetos!” Max pointed out seriously. “It ain’t $2.50, bro! Do you have any idea the energy it takes to make a portal? What people actually pay for it? I can’t be making portals for free. I don’t get a salary from the Clave like you do. This is how I make a living!”

SO TRUE

“I was going to say you should go stay at the institute with David,” Rafael said. “But you are right. You are not a baby. You can stay here on your-”

“On second thoughts,” Max interrupted with a grin. “I’m still a fetus in warlock years so I will go the institute.”

THEY ARE SO PRECIOUS

AHHH HE CALLED HER PRETTY THE FIRST TIME HE SAW HER

THEY WERE 7

IM SCREAMING SO MUCH RIGHT NOW

my throat hurts

JAIME MY BABY

Y'ALL I MISSED HIM SO MUCH

“All thanks to the amazing Isabelle Lightwood,” Jaime replied. “I think I am a little in love with her.”

“Who isn’t?” Rafael chuckled.

we all are in love with isabelle lightwood

no no no

where's anjali

where is she

dont fuck with me right now

why does diego look like a mess

“Diego,” the woman rasped. “She is coughing up blood again.”

no

dont

it's chapter 1

stop making me cry

THE LIGHTWOOD SIBLINGS

YUSDFGYUSDFSDGYUD

if anyone gives izzy shit for this i'll kill them

JACE STOP GOING SO FAST

“Jace, if you want to a baby so much then grow your own damn uterus,” Isabelle snapped.

TELL HIM

THIS GOES OUT TO THE WHOLE MALE POPULATION

After Georgia’s birth, they had promised each other that they would always choose the children first. If it ever came to a point, as it often did in their lives, where they had to choose between themselves and the children – they had promised each other to save the children.

dude theres a major character death here

Jace thought for a moment and then grinned at her. “No uterus. No opinion.”

“Selena has trained you well,”

selena my smart feminist child

I JUST KNOW ONE OF THE LIGHTWOOD-BANES IS DYING

AND IM NOT OK

“Do you really need those?” Alec asked, pointing at the glasses.

“No,” Jace replied. “But Clary thinks I look hot with glasses.”

“You two are ridiculous,” Alec shook his head.

Jace turned around. “Really? And your beard is for character building, is it?”

there's no use lying alec we all know why it's really there

I KNOW WHAT LEUKEMIA IS SHUT THE FUCK UP IM LOSING MY SHIT

no

no

she cant die

IF SHE DIES I WILL RAISE HELL

my throat hurts from all the shouting

“Can I get a cinnamon latte with extra cream and two sugars please?” Alec asked.

Jace raised an eyebrow.

“Magnus had a long day at the Spiral Labyrinth,” Alec explained.

“Can’t he just magic his drink?”

“Well, yes,” Alec replied. “But I like buying it for him. It’s called being a good husband.”

aww that's so sweet

THIS IS HILARIOUS

“I’m saying no one can do better than David,” Jace huffed. “He is precious.”

tru

“If you are going to be this way, things are going to be very awkward at their wedding,” Jace muttered.

“They are not getting married, Jace!”

“Do you not want them to???”

“They are nineteen!!”

“Doesn’t mean we are not allowed to think about it,” Jace pointed out. “If they get married, we will be family!”

“We are already family!” Alec all but yelled.

“Yeah, but we will be even closer!” Jace sighed happily.

“You are my parabatai!” Alec said incredulously. “My soul is literally tied to yours! How closer do you want to get?”

THIS IS AMAZING

OH MY GOD I LOVE

JACE BEING OVER PROTECTIVE OVER SELENA DATING SOMEONE IM LOSING MY SHIT

wait how old is michael

"Oh my god,” Jace gasped. “Three out of three! I win!”

“It’s not a competition, Jace!” Alec rolled his eyes.

“It is and I won,” Jace grinned. “You’re welcome, LGBTQ+ community.”

YUP JACE WON

“Can we talk about something else?” Izzy demanded. “We are not those parents who only ever talk about their children.”

Alec cleared his throat. “Right. Of course.”

“Yeah, we have lives of our own,” Jace nodded seriously.

They drove quietly for a while before they started discussing about their children’s love lives again right up until Jace pulled over at Jade Wolf.

of course...

Lily’s face was pale – paler than usual.

lily what's wrong

please lily

anjali...

lily is close to her

of course

“Then we burn all the angels,” Lily growled.

YES YES YES YES

Jace walked in that moment, sipping from his latte. “I bought donuts, y’all!”

A chuckle escaped Magnus. “Jonathan. Your timing is impeccable.”

"Is everything okay?” Jace asked, looking troubled.

“No,” Maia replied. “But at least we have donuts.”

at least they have donuts

“I love you,” he mouthed, and Alec’s heart was okay for a moment.

THE FEELS

ISABELLE

NO NO NO

NO

IZZY

PLEASE

WHY IS EVERY POV ENDING LIKE THIS

They had put on their clothes

AHEM SIR-

they grow up so fast...

no

im crying

dont please

izzy

she was poisoned

oh my god

WHO

GIVE ME NAMES RIGHT NOW

Rafael drank like a dozen a day.

understandable have a good day

OH MY GOD STOP JOKING AS A COPING MECHANISM

Im squeezing the life out of Emma (my emotional support stuffed cat) right now

seelies

the first time i heard the source was angelic my very first incstinct was seelie. I didn't wanna share it because of how absurd it sounded. but it doesn't anymore.

charlotte was poisoned by a seelie unintentionally which cost her her child

oh

OH MY GOD

NO THIS WASN'T IZZY'S COFFEE

MAGNUS GAVE IT TO HER

THIS WAS MAGNUS' COFFEE

SOMEONE WAS TRYING TO POISON HIM.

I'm losing my mind oh my god... I am so scared. Please Anjali and Isabelle please they cant...no i dont wanna think like that. tryna take deep breaths. ok. it's gonna be ok. maybe.

see ya friday!

Now I want to write lbaf while wearing a tiara. Hmmmm. I'll look for one online.

See you Friday! Also hope you had a good birthday!!!

And send pics of Emma!!!!!!!