#this is turning out to be super super late

[fuqnia]

SP Main Four + butters !College AU Relationship Headcanons

[☆] A/N | hii guys! i recently hit 500 likes on tumblr and i'm like so speechless... i never wouldve thought people would be interested in reading my stupid little writing hehe, so tysm! my long fic, most wanted, is coming to a close soon, and I have been working on another longfic that's a fem!reader insert x main 4 boys in college! i'm also probably going to write a more realistic/sadder headcanons, because this one was toothachingly sweet </3

[☆] C/W | NSFW under the cut, this is also for f!reader, but i'm open to writing a gn!reader or m!reader in the future

[☆] check out my !college au headcanons for the boys + butters here!

☆ stan marsh

hopeless romantic

will definitely do the most cheesy things for you

has a mixtape of songs that remind him of you

writes love letters, but never gives them to you

feels everything deeply, he's a big ol' baby

late night talks about his fears and dreams

craves emotional intimacy and trust w/ you

super duper attentive to your needs

will put you over himself

overthinks

enjoys laid-back dates! like movie dates, thrifting, strolls

gets jealous reallyyy easily

wont outright admit it tho

very insecure, if someone flirts with u, he'll just sulk LOL

avoids confrontations at all costs

not afraid to cry in front of you

vomits on you if you do something really provocative to him

always offer his jacket/hoodie to you

loves holding your hand

laces his fingers thru yours and swings your hands

goofy ah grin when you surprise him with kisses

big on cuddling

gets super flustered when his friends teases him about you

obsessed with your laugh

keeps a picture of you in his wallet

NSFW

sooo nervous during your first time with him

very eager to please!

takes his time learning what you like

kisses every inch of your body

starts with your lips and works his way down

definitely a soft dom

"does this feel good?" "tell me if you want me to stop"

loves holding your hand while in you

eats your p out like your his last meal

i think he would be more into receiving than giving, but doesn't mind giving at all!

gets shy when you compliment him and tell him how good he is making you feel

prefers gentle sex, unless you want it rough

his entire body flushes red when you tease his cock

like palming thru his shorts, or pressing quick kisses to his tip

loves to cum in your mouth

goes crazy if he gets to paint your face tho

i'm sorry but this man is into creampies...

gets turned on when you're really emotional/crying from him pleasuring you

favorite position is definitely cowgirl

definitely an ass man, loves squishing/pinching your skin

kisses your forehead, cheeks and lips after going down on you

i think he would also be kinda quiet, wouldn't let out that many moans

☆ kyle broflovski

shows his love thru actions rather than words

remembers every anniversary, even the little ones :)

makes detailed itineraries for dates

even though he's a yapper, he definitely enjoys listening to you

fiercely loyal

takes no disrespect towards you

ready to work anyone's shit as so much as they look at you funny

probably would like someone who would challenge him intellectually

needs you to have the same core values as him

DO NOT DO PDA WITH THIS MAN

he will just look at you with pure disgust if you even attempt to...

but will secretly hold hands under the table or sneak a kiss when no one is looking

puts too much pressure on himself to be perfect for you

always notices this little things about you

oh you changed your nail color? you applied your makeup differently?

will blush like crazy when you compliment him

awkwardly rubs the back of his neck

will get irrationally jealous

tries to hide it by cracking sarcastic jokes

writes you long thoughtful texts when your apart, updates you about his day, asks you how yours went

becomes super attentive when your sad or stressed

wraps you in a blanket, makes you tea

i feel like he'd hate the feeling of having a crush

but once he's in a relationship, lowkey a romantic, buy you books he'd think you'd like, jewelry that compliments your skin tone

NSFW

overthinks everything at first

constantly asks "is this okay? are you sure?"

like i said, super attentive, he needs to make sure you're okay

loves eye contact while fucking you

gets really shy when you take control but secretly loves it

prefers slow deliberate strokes and touches

has a thing for neck kisses– both giving and receiving

talks your through it

"you're perfect" "you feel so good"

gets competitive if you tease him about lasting longer

please kiss his freckles... he'll go absolutely feral

not afraid to leave hickeys, scratches or nail prints on you

wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck and his life is yours LOL

i think missionary would be his favorite position

needs to see your face

it's his life mission to make you squirt...

loves fingering you

sit on his face ?

super embarrassed about his moans, but lets it out anyways lmfao

loves your titties, no matter the size

will beg you to let him cum in you

☆ kenny mccormick

we all know kenny is a natural flirt

will wink, smirk, and use cheesy pick-up lines to make you blush

loves physical affection

always has an arm around your waist

makes you laugh constantly

goes to extreme lengths to see you smile, whether it's his silly pranks or grand gestures

draws little hearts and doodles on your notebooks/texts

if he's super bored, he'll draw on your skin lmfao

super duper protective— he'll walk you home late at night and make sure you're always safe

loves taking you on adventurous dates, especially sneaking into places you're not supposed to be

calls you "babe," "sweetheart," or "princess" with that drawl of his hehe

not above embarrassing himself, will write cringe worthy poems or songs and serenade you

immediately notices when you're a little bit off

pulls you into a hug, rubbing your back

buys you little trinkets and steals snacks from eric, saying, "i saw this and thought of you!"

obsessed with kissing you, he'll lean in for a quick peck and smirks when he notices your smile

immediately goes back in for a longer kiss

i think he's super good at braiding hair, and loves playing with yours!

please wear his band tees <3

NSFW

super duper confident, definitely knows what he's doing

loves teasing you, using soft kisses and touches to drive you crazy before giving in

worships your body, tracing every curve with his lips and hands

like kyle, adores it when you take charge and being at your mercy

whispers dirty things in your ear, his voice low and sultry

"you're so fuckin' beautiful babe, I can't get enough of you."

VOCAL AS FUCK ! he'll groan, sigh, whisper your name, letting you know exactly how good you're making him feel

has a downright pornographic moan....

obviously a boob guy, he'll suck and manhandle your tits like there's no tomorrow

will cop a feel secretly infront of others as well LOL

also a thigh and neck guy—he'll kiss, nip, and mark you like he's marking a claim on you

definitely cums alot.... i'm sorry lmfao

dirty as fuck as well... spits in your mouth, puts his fingers in your mouth, making you suck him

taps his tip against your tongue, smearing his precum all over your lips

a big fan of sloppy toppy, grabbing your hair and face fucking you

he's tew good with his tongue... and so so messy when eating you out

will not hold back with his noises, literally slurping ???

loves loves loves overstimulation

favorite position is mating press, loves looking at where you guys connect

cusses when he cums

will crack some corny joke afterward to make you laugh,

"so... we're pretty good at this, huh?" and giggles like a schoolgirl

loves cuddling afterwards!

☆ eric cartman

definitely does grand gestures

brags to everyone about being in a relationship

"yeah, she's lucky to have me."

nobody believes that...

hates PDA in theory, but secretly loves it when you grab his hand or kiss his cheek

he'll complain, but his blushing face gives him away

sends you the most random memes and videos throughout the day as his way of saying he's thinking abt you <3

gets ridiculously competitive when it comes to impressing you

if someone else buys you flowers, he'll show up with a bouquet and stuffed animal, screaming profanities at the other person

jealousss to the max

glares daggers at everyone he perceives a threat, coming up with some sick and twisted plan is his head to take 'em down

gets super pouty when you tease him, but loves the banter between the two of you "i'm not fat, i'm big-boned and you know it!"

will absolutely demand you come over to "study", but in reality he just wants to spend time with you hehehe

has a soft spot when you baby him a little

like brushing his hair or adjusting his hoodie, he'll pretend to hate it but he's melting inside

if you're upset, he'll try to cheer you up in his own weird way...

usually a mix of crude jokes and awkward affection ??

please don't cry infront of him, he'll just panic

keeps a picture of you on his phone as his lock screen, and gets super defensive if anyone points it out

"shut up kahl! it's not even a big deal!"

gaslights the hell out of you, but eventually gives in when he realizes you'll just gaslight him back

will bring you up in any and every conversation, and doesn't care if it annoys the fuck out of his friends

proudly shows off your achievements and loudly declare that you're the bestest girlfriend in the world !

until you piss him off...

NSFW

talks a big game about being dominant and kinky

but he's secretly all about soft and sensual moments with you <3

loves loves loves being in control, rarely lets you take the lead

he needs to boost his ego somehow!

will grab your jaw to force you to look at him, his nails pressing hard into your cheeks

"awe, my poor baby is being fucked too dumb, can't even speak properly"

i'm sorry, but this man never shuts up in bed

whether it's dirty talk or low/breathy moans, he's always yapping

really mean too ):

depending on his mood, he'll either take you to pound town, or just veryy lazy sex

gets flustered if you tell him how good he's making you feel, and fails majorly covering it up

"well, duh. i'm amazing."

loves leaving hickeys—he'll mark you in places just barely hidden, so you're always reminded your his.

obsessed with the fat of your ass and tits, doesn't matter the size—he's all about kisses and touches

will 100% lose focus if you whisper in his ear

his cocky demeanor crumbles instantly, and he's completely at your mercy

gets embarrassed easily if you get too emotional, crying and pawing at his chest that you feel too good

this man does not own a single condom... he'll just pull out and paint your stomach

edges you when he's in a particularly bad mood, and only gives in when you're begging

definitely prefers receiving over giving, but likes the feeling of your walls clamping down on his fingers

asks you to stick out your tongue so he can see the load he blew LMFAOO WHY DID I WRITE THIS

i can't decide if he'd prefer doggy style or cowgirl, so ig just depends on his mood?

has a secret stash of candles or mood lighting for when things get "serious"

will deny deny deny it if anyone ever finds out.

his aftercare is surprisingly sweet— he'll tuck you in, grab snacks, and make sure you're comfortable before he starts pretending he doesn't care <3

☆ butters stotch

is THE definition of doting boyfriend

he'll write you sweet notes and hide them in your bag for you to find later

always asks for your opinion on everything

from what outfit he should wear to what movie the two of you should watch

he just wants to make you happy 😭

blushes like crazy when you compliment him, his hands fidgeting nervously as he stammers out a thank you

will call you every nickname under the sun

"sweet pie," "honeybunch," "cutie patootie"

he's so genuine it's impossible not to grab his cheeks and smile

loves holding hands—it makes him feel safe and connected to you

like stan, he'll swing your arms as you walk, grinning ear to ear

will apologize profusely for the tiniest things, even if it's not his fault

"oh, gosh, i’m sorry! did I step on your toe?"

keeps a running list of all your favorite things so he can surprise you with thoughtful gifts or dates!

if you're upset, he'll bake you cookies or cupcakes and sit with you until you feel better

"it's okay to cry, you know. i'm here."

absolutely adores cuddling, but gets super shy at first

once he's comfortable, he's wrapping you in the coziest of hugs

brings you flowers he picked from the campus quad, tied with a little ribbon

"i hope you like ‘em! i thought they were real purdy."

gets starry-eyed whenever you talk about your dreams or passions

he's your biggest cheerleader and believes you can do anything!

definitely giggles as you try to kiss all over his face

allows you to paint his nails, so you both can match

kisses your scratches/bruises whenever you get hurt, then patches you up himself

takes candid photos of you, so he'll always remember the feeling of moments with you <3

NSFW

don't let this man fool you...

he'll act all nervous and shy at first

he'll blush bright red when you undress in front of him

he'll nervously kiss every inch of your skin, murmuring soft compliments as he goes

he'll shyly ask, "is it okay if i touch you there?"

like he's not about to have you begging for him to keep going

once he realizes how much you're into it, he flips a switch

suddenly his shy little kisses turn into biting your lip

pinning you down

murmuring in a low voice, "i'll take care of you, baby"

he'll start slow, watching you squirm under his touch

but he's secretly enjoying the power of making you lose control

SLEEPER AGENT OF KINK

you think he's all soft neck kisses and hand-holding

then he's tugging your hair, love bites on your shoulder

and growling in your ear, "you like that, don't you?"

his hands, his mouth, and his cock alternate between gentle and rough to keep you on edge <3

the moans he'll let out would be so loud and unrestrained

completely enamored with your body

big fan of overstimulation

thrives on praise

eager to learn as well!!

positions where he can see everything—your expressions, your body, the way you react to his touch—drive him wild

not afraid to try something new!

and when it's all over, he's right back to his soft and sweet self

kissing your forehead and pulling you into his arms like he wasn't doing unspeakable things to you five minutes ago.

can you still guess who my favorite is... 💀 also i'm so sorry for whatever this was

[mymoshangthoughts]

i think i have the unpopular opinion that airplane is an egotist lol

i do enjoy reading fics where he's like "i dont deserve good things, this guy is way out of my league" and i do totally get where people are coming from when they characterize him that way but more and more lately im just like

"what about the comments?"

like i dont think that airplane has a SUPER high opinion of himself, but i think he's just kinda... confident? like when he reads fucking essays online about how his writing sucks he's able to laugh his ass off over it and even join in the fray. so i keep thinking rather than him being like "i dont deserve this nice thing", he'd more have a "SCORE! nice thing for me!! WHOO!" reaction. and when a bad thing happened, instead of being super "this is the saddest day of my life, someone was mean to me", he'd be more "omfg did you like fr waste your time being mean to me? thats actually pretty embarrassing for you lmfao, r u oki bro?"

like kinda that terminally online asshole internet troll of a person who just doesnt take shit seriously and has enough self esteem to just legitimately not give a fuck when someone is shitty

ofc it's different with demons who can literally skin him alive, theres a huge difference between someone saying "youre ugly" and someone breaking every bone in his body, so its not like he doesn't cower when necessary

but also inwardly he just has the confidence to not be effected much by cowering. like "lol imma hug this thigh bc i aint stupid but the fact that this asshole needs me to hug his thigh says a looottttt more about him than it says about me"

idk im just kinda wanting to see more unapologetically confident airplane who just does not give a fuck about anyones opinion so long as the opinion is coming from someone who cant actually fuck him over in a significant way. like sha hualing? obvs care about her opinion, she can gut him. some rando disciple? "lmfao out of my way loser, im gay"

also i kinda wanna see that confidence stripped away until he's a mewling mess but thats just my desire to break down confident characters and make them cry pfff

its so much funnier to me if airplane was actually a pretty impervious sort of person, it's only the extreme nature of his current situation that turned him into a crybaby lmfao

idk if im making sense, i just kinda think of airplane as being a hilarious mixture of "the most self assured guy you've ever met, to an obnoxious extent" and "wait does he have any self esteem at all?!? is he okay?!?" in a fun contradictory way, cuz thats the impression i got of him from canon

also modern au mobei jun getting Very upset bc it feels absolutely impossible to get under airplane's skin. like he's sitting here trying his best to get a reaction and airplane is just "lmfao yea but idgaf abt your opinion sooooooooo"

look, i also think it'd just be awesome if mobei jun is actually most attracted to the egotistical side of shang qinghua. like sure, he thinks that cowering sobbing pathetic hamster shang qinghua is delicious, but give him shang qinghua cackling arrogantly at his detractors with the air of an emperor? mobei jun might actually faint with desire

so like, mobei jun visiting an ding peak so much initially because shang qinghua is sus as fuck and all that jazz, but eventually he's sneaking in as often as possible so that he gets to peak that side of shang qinghua.

like he first notices it when shang qinghua is too absorbed in his paperwork to remember there's a demon lord casually napping on his bed and starts making fun of the lousy penmanship, his fellow disciples, other peak lords, no one is except from his sharp mocking tongue and laughing criticism. but he notices it more and more

someone comes to qinghua's door to throw their weight around? sure, qinghua acts all small and harmless with them there but when they leave, he's cackling about "annndd that pathetic loser thinks that no one knows abt his porn stache, pssshhh, get on my level pleb. especially with your frankly boring as fuck tastes" and qinghua has a dirty sense of humor too and it's sort of driving mobei jun insane

so maybe sometimes he shows up at the peak without announcing his presence, trying to peak what sort of shit that shang qinghua might say about him behind his back and mmaaaayyybbe mobei jun is a bit excited at the prospect and disappointed when it's difficult to hear his name on shang qinghua's tongue

until one glorious day when his timing is just right and shang qinghua is neck deep in the middle of northern desert paperwork and he lets loose and mobei jun isnt sure whats worse: the things that shang qinghua's biting insults are doing to him or how, in stark comparison to the way that shang qinghua insults to others, all of shang qinghua's insults are accompanied by dirty commentary about mobei jun's body and potential sexual prowess in a quite positive light. normally shang qinghua is all "lmfao mr. never-gonna-get-fucked qi-ge is gonna tell me what to do? tough shit my lil bitch, i might be your daddy but i know the full depth of malicious compliance! go back to your brat-kink with jiu-whatever. you might as well be dickless for all the success you've had, mr. virgin mcbitch" but with mobei jun it's a lot more like "oh so mr. sexier than the fucking literal god of this world could have imagined in his dirtiest dreams wants this paperwork by next week? unreasonable brat, so spoiled, i should spoil him, he'd look reeeeaallly hot when spoiled absolutely rotten beneath me hehehh wait above me? hm, anyway, he's being a little bitch but i'll forgive it for that face but also man i wanna just pinch those fucking cheeks sometimes and then--man i bet he'd be really fucking wild in the sack to and--"

absolutely charmed by the display, mobei jun immediately reveals himself and beats shang qinghua senseless as a very clear indication of his intentions. to his absolute dismay, he never hears shang qinghua insulting him again and he doubles the beatings in desperation to somehow get shang qinghua's attention

(shang qinghua does not, in fact, have any actual bad blood against his zhangmen-shixiong, he just has a bad habit of going for the throat when he's in the middle of a tirade bc he was once an internet troll who shamelessly thrived on the anonymity of being able to say anything to anyone. he just really likes to talk shit and if he was in a position of power, would absolutely abuse it to talk shit alllll the time lmfao)

anyway i got pretty off topic bUT MY POINT IS that shang qinghua is best (imho) when he is a shameless egotistical shit-talker who's more or less impervious to the criticism of others

((man just fucking IMAGINE mobei jun's reaction when the ascension ceremony happens? like he FINALLY gets shang qinghua to talk shit to his face no less and then IMMEDIATELY gets abandoned. and like, it was kinda Really Bad Timing and also mobei jun never really wanted to just be a passive participant! he wanted to retort back! he wanted a back and forth! he wanted to refute shang qinghua's claims that he was spoiled just as much as he wanted to hear those claims! he wants the push and pull!!!! SO WHY IS SHANG QINGHUA RUNNING AWAY THAT FUCKING TEASE?!?!))

also as a general note i do think that shang qinghua's whole impervious thing is prolly routed in a lot of the trauma of being unwanted by family and all of that stuff, there was no one around to build his ego up so he built it up all on his own and he's really fucking good at building things up

[seungfl0wer]

*𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝘿𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙒/ 𝙎𝙆𝙕*

Pairing: Maknae Line x Reader (GN)

Genre: Fluff

A/N: I hate these came out a lot shorter but my brain hasn’t been braining so I’m sorry :(

Hyung Line | Maknae Line

-🎄

Han:

Things had been a little stressful for your boyfriend lately. All the holiday stuff he was doing and filming just had him a bit on edge. So you decided to do something sweet. You rearranged some of the furniture moving things around before ordering his favorite food. You made a comfy little fort putting all the food under, getting everything ready for when he came home.

When he came home dropping everything by the door you heard him sigh. However when he walked into the room he couldn’t help but smile. “Welcome home love” you said smiling. “Come and relax. I got your favorite and we can watch a Christmas movie” you said.

He came to you hugging you tightly before kissing you softly. “I love you” he said with a blush. You both got under the warm blankets cuddling up to one another. He pulled you into his arms kissing the top of your head. You ran your hand through his hair making him just melt into your touch. If he was a cat he’d be purring right now.

“Thank you babe” he said with a hum.

“Of course handsome, anything for you” you said smiling back.

You stayed there under the fort all night just talking about everything and everything. Until you both fell asleep curled up into one another.

Felix:

He told you he’d pick you up after he got off. He also asked you to wear something warm because you’d be out. When he picked you up he was dressed so nicely. Weirdly enough you were matching, both red plaid shirts.

He took your hand in his as he drove you to the light place. He found a really pretty place that you could drive through look at the lights and drink some warm coco.

He turned on some holiday music as you both marveled at the pretty lights. It was crazy how many they had, how cool some of them were. You pointed giggling at one of beauty and the beast showing Felix. He smiled kissing your hand.

He stopped the car at the little coco shop getting you both some before pulling off to a little spot. He pulled you to him kissing you lovingly cupping your face. “I’m so happy I have you” he said smiling.

“And I’m happy to have you too, this was such a great idea!” You said smiling back.

Seungmin:

You headed outside to get some mail, bundling up because it was so cold out. When you got outside you were met with a snowball to the back. You looked around trying to figure out who it was or where it came from.

You looked around only to hear a cackle coming from the side of the building. You packed a snowball quickly before looking around the building. You saw seungmin standing chuckling to himself.

You drew your arm back throwing the snowball hitting him in the shoulder. He jumped before meeting your eyes. “Oh, this is war” he said with a wicked grin.

You spent bit chucking snowballs at one another. Before he came running at you playfully tackling you into the snow. You both couldn’t stop laughing before he cupped your face in his hands kissing you softly. “Let’s go inside and get a nice warm shower” he said with that same grin.

Jeongin:

He didn’t really plan this date more so seeing it on his way home. He liked to plan things however he thought this would be such a cute date.

He called you on his way home asking you to get ready in something warm. He waited for you to come out opening your door for you.

When you arrived at the spot you could tell he was super excited. Getting everything out he pulled you up the hill on the sled before jumping on the back. You slid down the side of the hill fast laughing loudly as the snow hit your faces.

He kissed your cheek before pulling back up the hill. The joy on his face was everything. Those cute dimples poking out that you loved so much. He pushed you down the hill before accidentally sliding down on his butt with you. He rolled trying to stop himself only making you laugh in the process.

“You alright?” You ask still laughing.

“I think so but I think a kiss will make me a lot better” he said with a grin.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[dooberific]

This is kinda weird but can I request a fic of reader convincing harumasa to start a 401k?

Happy you’re self aware bbg because this was a wild request to find ✋💀. I was googling so if there are any inaccuracies I blame reddit ELI5 threads.

❝ 𝘙𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘉𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘴 ❞

harumasa x afab!reader

genre: slice of life (anymore so and we would be asking him to join the neighborhood watch), some suggestive language

wc: 1.1k

“Somebody’s here suspiciously early.”

“Oh you know, my chest started hurting around four o’clock so I had to take off early.” He accentuated his tale of woe with a little fake cough, mirth dancing in his golden eyes as he neared your seat on the end of the pier.

Could you really blame him? His day was just so painful with all that paperwork, so when his favorite girl texts him with a surprise invitation for dinner at one of his favorite places? What was he supposed to do?

You reached into the convenience store bag behind you, producing a canned drink, waving it invitingly in his direction. “Bitter melon juice for the gentleman?”

“When a lovely lady offers it,” he plucked the can from your fingers, sweeping his head down to press a chaste kiss to your lips as you giggled, “How could I refuse~?”

He sat down beside you, legs dangling over the edge of the pier. “What’s the occasion? I know I’ve been a particularly good boyfriend lately but this seems a little too good to be true.” 

“Can’t I invite you out for a romantic picnic date without ulterior motives?” You rolled your lip out in a faux pout, reaching back into the bag behind you as you slung a saran wrapped sandwich at his chest.

“Oh, homemade sandwiches, super romantic.” He teased as he picked at the wrapping before taking a bite, immediately recognizing the flavors of your truly homemade chicken salad.

“What’s next, gonna slip your granny nightgown on when we get home? You know that thing really turns me on.” 

“I will have you know, my grandma ended up with seven kids wearing one of those.” You hissed as you took a bite of your own sandwich before waving it threateningly in his direction, kicking at his ankles. “Besides! It’s comfy and someone wasn’t complaining last time I wore it.”

“Guilty as charged~” 

You rolled your eyes but didn’t reply, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as the sound of the waves lapping at the piers and the rush of the wind carrying a spray of sea foam lulled you into a tranquil state. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

His question took you by surprise. You hadn’t realized how mindlessly you had stared off into the horizon till he anchored you back in. You smiled, scooting to his side as you threw your arms around his middle, your cheek squishing against his shoulder.

“Just thinking about us…and the future, I guess. I think I’m just a little worried sometimes.” Your head swiveled up to prop your chin on his shoulder, watching as his brow furrowed below his headband. His hand squeezed your knee.

“What’s got you worried?”

“I don’t think you’re taking your life seriously.” 

The abruptness of your words surprised even you. You had rehearsed it in the mirror multiple times, trying to figure out how best to address it with him but that was all out the window now.

He fiddled with the tab on his drink can, head low. “This is about that retirement stuff the association sent, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” There was no use denying it anyways. You had questioned him when the packet came in the express mail, leafing through the papers outlining H.A.N.D’s 401k procedure before he told you not to worry about it. It was in the trash can the next morning.

“I don’t think you’re considering it like you should. You’re not living on borrowed time like you think you are, even the doctors have been pleased with how well your health has been maintaining.”

He laughed ruefully. 

“Every day I wake up is borrowed time. I’m a medical anomaly whether you accept it or not.”

“Keep talking like that and you’ll end up living to a ripe old age.” You chimed with a pop of your lips, bumping his shoulder.

“I just thought that since the government cut down the retirement age for Executive Officers to 35 that it might not be such a bad thing to consider, especially,” you tapped his nose with the tip of your finger, “since somebody I know would much rather play than work.”

You shuffled backwards on the deck, hitting your knees as you wrapped your arms around his neck from behind. You rested your head on his shoulder.

“Just think. Thirty-five, a retired smoking hot former executive officer lounging on his boat.”

He laughed, his shoulders shaking as he peered at you in his periphery. “On a boat huh?”

“Why not?” You replied with a shrug. “What better way to experience the freedom of the wind and the sea? I could think of much less pleasant ways to spend your time than waking up and enjoying the sunrise over the bay.” 

You squeezed him a little tighter as you brushed your lips over his ear. “Maybe if you’re extra good your equally smoking hot girlfriend will invest in a few bikinis and you won’t have to complain about those granny nightgowns anymore~”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” 

You snorted, shaking your head, hands drifting down his arms as you twiddled with his fingers till he threaded your fingers together with his. 

“Do me a favor and think about it?” 

You don’t get an answer before his phone chimes in his pocket. His face falls, and you know it’s work on the other end.

“Sorry baby,” his apology comes with a kiss. “Let’s get you home.”

You felt guilty when you saw the packet of paperwork on the edge of the counter when you returned to your shared apartment, having fished it out of the trash before you hatched your dinner intervention. You swiped it back off the counter, dropping it back into the bin with a sigh.

You didn’t remember when he crawled into bed with you, but you did stir when his morning alarm went off, feeling the bed shift as he got up. You yawned, dragging yourself out after him, draping the comforter over your shoulders like a cape to fight off the morning chill as you padded to the kitchen to start the coffee pot.

You poured a cup for yourself as you topped off his work cup, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you squinted at the packet of papers folded neatly on the kitchen counter.

You waved it curiously at him as he appeared in the kitchen beside you, adjusting his tie as he plucked his cup off the counter. 

“Haru, what’s this?”

“That,” His nimble fingers teased at your knuckles as he swiped the papers from your grasp, leaning in to plant a coffee-flavored kiss against your lips, “is our retirement boat.” 

He slipped on his shoes, popping the front door open as he spun around and shot to a wink.

“Better start picking those bikinis out, babe. The stringier the better.”

Rey 2024

[gullemec]

Lion's Den

Golden Cage - Chapter Three

ao3

Pairing: Billy Butcher x f!reader

Summary: A late-night stake out with Butcher turns into something unexpected. You and Hughie embark on your highest-stakes mission yet.

Warnings: mentions of death, depictions of grief, language, alcohol use, smoking, Homelander is his own trigger warning, needle injection, body horror/gore, blood, murder, explosions

Please let me know if I missed any TWs <3

WC: 7k

A/N: This chapter contains one of the first scenes I ever came up with for this fic and I'm super proud of how it turned out. Thanks for reading <3

Your chest heaves in fits of laughter, the sound escaping in gleeful bursts that ripple through the warm summer air. Hair floating behind you like the tail of a comet, catching the light as it swirls and dances. The soft fabric of your dress billows around you, its folds fluttering with every swing. Your toes stretch forward, daring to brush against the edge of the sky. For a fleeting moment, a hint of fear creeps into your belly. 

Too high, too fast. 

But then there are hands at your back, firm and steady, guiding you. A gentle push, a quiet assurance. The embrace that follows is warm and full, carrying the familiar floral scent of comfort, safety, and love.

Nothing can hurt you now, not while I’m around.

Your high school prom. A shimmering haze of hairspray and perfume, your gown a vibrant turquoise that catches the light like sunlit waves. Awkward poses frozen in the flash of cameras. Corsages pinned with trembling hands. Laughter and whispers shared between girlfriends as music thrums faintly in the distance.

And then her voice, soft yet full of pride, as she peers at you from behind the lens. Her eyes crinkle with warmth, her smile radiating maternal joy.

So beautiful. So special. I love you so much. 

Later, a university acceptance. The email you read over and over, half in disbelief, and the student visa that followed. A one-way plane ticket tucked carefully into your carry-on. At the airport, the crowd swirls around you in a blur of movement and sound, but all you feel is her arms wrapping tightly around you, her lips pressing a kiss to your temple. You promise to call every weekend, visit every holiday.

You're so smart. I'm so proud of you. You can do anything you set your mind to. 

And you believed her. You always believed her.

The fatherly absence always stung. The missed recitals, forgotten birthdays, the empty chairs at family dinners. He was a phantom presence, his love expressed through impersonal checks and extravagant gifts, always with a neatly written card promising: Next time. When things aren't so crazy at work.

But she was enough. More than enough. Her laughter, her warmth, her unwavering belief in you filled every void he left behind.

Until the night it didn’t.

A phone call at 1AM, shattering the quiet of your dorm room. Your heart lurching as you fumble for the phone, squinting against the harsh glow of the screen. The voice on the other end is jumbled, nonsensical, the words bleeding together.

There's been an accident. I'm so sorry. 

Mourners clad in black gather under a colorless sky, their umbrellas dotting the cemetery like wilted flowers. The rain is steady but light, just enough to soak through the fabric of your dress and chill your skin. A closed casket sits before you, a hollow, unyielding box you can’t bring yourself to approach. You really shouldn’t see her like this. It’s for the best, the funeral director told you. The six foot deep trench yawning before you, her new home. Your father stands beside you, his hand resting awkwardly on your shoulder. His touch feels foreign, unwelcome, but you don’t shrug him off. You don’t have the energy.

It's okay. You'll be alright. Don't cry. 

But how can you not? How can you not cry when the one person who made the world feel safe, who saw the best in you even when you couldn’t, is gone?

You stare at the grave, your vision blurring as raindrops mingle with tears, and you wonder if you’ll ever feel whole again.

~~~

The sticky heat of the laundromat clings to your skin like a second layer, oppressive and inescapable. The hard plastic of the school chair you’re perched on digs into your thighs, leaving faint indentations every time you shift your weight. You adjust your tank top, its damp fabric sticking stubbornly to your back, and glance at the clock for what feels like the hundredth time.

The rhythmic hum and occasional clang of the washers and dryers should be soothing, but it only grates on your nerves. Across the aisle, an elderly woman works on a crossword puzzle, her lips moving soundlessly as she taps her pen against her chin. She’s utterly oblivious to the undercurrent of anxiety rolling off of you.

You’ve been here nearly half an hour.

Where the fuck are the Boys?

Your mind begins to spiral. Had they changed their minds about bringing you into the fold? Decided it was too risky to work with someone so closely tied to CytoGenix and Vought? It wouldn’t make sense—Starlight works with them, after all. Starlight, who comforted you when you were on the verge of breaking, who fought on your behalf, who insisted you call her Annie.

No, they hadn’t forgotten about you. They were just being cautious, you reason. But the nagging thought lingers. Maybe they’ve written you off after all.

You’re startled out of your reverie by movement behind the abandoned front desk. A familiar head pops up. It’s Frenchie, grinning and offering a quick wave to follow.

You jump to your feet, abandoning the chair with such urgency that the crossword woman glances up, giving you a sidelong look. You don’t care. You follow Frenchie through the hidden doorway and down the creaking staircase to the basement.

The Boys are gathered in their usual disorganized fashion. MM leans back in a chair with his arms crossed, Hughie paces idly, and Kimiko sits cross-legged on the floor, her sharp eyes scanning the room with quiet intensity. Butcher, as always, is the picture of brooding discontent, his trench coat draped over the back of the couch.

Annie is the first to notice you, her face lighting up as she waves you over. “Hey, you made it! Just in time for the riveting sixth hour of our surveillance party. So far, the highlights include... absolutely nothing. But hey, fingers crossed for the next six.” Her words are drenched in sarcasm, but her grin is infectious, and you find yourself laughing despite yourself.

“Ah, don’t listen to her,” Frenchie says, gesturing grandly as he flops into a chair. “It is not nothing. We are detectives, uncovering the truths of the universe!”

“Yeah, well, the truths of the universe are boring as hell,” Hughie mutters.

Butcher throws him a sharp look. “You’d think babysitting a couple of blinking dots was rocket science, the way you’re whining about it.”

Your attention shifts to the screen dominating the far wall, where two red dots move steadily across a digital map of Manhattan.

“Who are we watching?” you ask, curiosity overtaking your nerves.

“Your dear ol’ dad and his ball and chain,” Butcher says without looking at you, nodding toward the screen. “Been swannin’ around the city all bloody day. No idea where they’re off to next.”

You squint at the map, noting the dots’ meandering paths through Manhattan. “Yeah, they’re networking,” you say, rolling your eyes. “That’s what they call it when they spend hours sipping $500 bottles of wine with their friend and patting each other on the back for being obscenely rich. My dad swears it’s ‘essential for business,’ but it’s just an excuse to indulge.”

Butcher huffs out a low chuckle. “Sounds about right. It’s all bollocks, anyway. Rich pricks just finding new ways to circle jerk each other.”

You snort, caught off guard by the crude but accurate assessment. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

Butcher starts filling you in on the day’s surveillance. You sit beside him on the couch, leaning in as he explains the patterns of movement they’ve been tracking, the occasional stops your father and Monica have made, and how they’ve been prioritizing intercepting conversations with the bugs. His voice is low and steady, and for a moment, you forget everything else, your nerves, your exhaustion, even the slight embarrassment of sitting so close to him.

For the rest of the evening, the group takes turns monitoring the screen, scribbling down notes about the movements of the little red dots. The mundane nature of the task feels a little silly considering the high-stakes world you’ve stepped into, but you don’t mind. You feel like you’re contributing, even if only in a small way.

At one point, Hughie grumbles, “You know, we don’t have to watch this in real time. Everything’s being recorded. We could just check back later.”

Butcher doesn’t even look at him. “And if they do somethin’ worth jumpin’ on? You wanna miss it, do ya?”

Hughie mutters something under his breath, and Annie shoots you a knowing grin. “He’s been like this all day. Hyper-focused and grumpy as hell. Don’t take it personally.”

You glance at Butcher, his jaw tight as he studies the screen, and feel a pang of understanding. It’s not just determination driving him; it’s something deeper. Something raw and unresolved. You’ve seen that look before—in the mirror.

The grief radiating from him is palpable, even if he hides it well. You don’t know the details, but you can sense it. Loss has a way of marking people, leaving a shadow that never fully fades.

It draws you to him.

Misery loves company, you suppose. 

~~~

The clock reads just past midnight, and the room hums with the kind of stillness that makes every creak of the old laundromat basement feel loud. The dim light casts long shadows over the haphazard mess of wires, surveillance monitors, and makeshift furniture. It’s just you and Butcher now. The others have drifted off to sleep or left for the night.

MM had slipped out hours ago, muttering something about tucking Janine into bed. Hughie and Annie left together not long after, their quiet farewells fading into the night. Frenchie and Kimiko are sprawled together on a cot in the next room, limbs entangled in quiet comfort.

The audio transmitters have been silent for hours. The dots on the tracker map haven’t moved, signifying the cars have both come to rest at the CytoGenix office. Your father and Monica must be asleep in the office quarters. You glance at the dormant monitors, feeling the weight of the lull settle in your bones.

“Think you’ll stay awake much longer?” you ask, stretching to ease the stiffness in your back.

Butcher, leaning against the armrest of the couch, shrugs. “Suppose so. Don’t usually sleep ‘til mornin’.” He watches you with a detached air, like he’s trying to gauge why you’re still here. “You can head home if you like.”

You nod absently but don’t make a move to leave.

The truth is, you don’t want to go. The long hours of surveillance have been uneventful, sure, but there’s something about the waiting, the anticipation, that grips you. Every crackle of static, every blip on the tracker, feels like it could be the moment everything changes.

And the alternative? Returning to your empty loft, with its hollow silence and the weight of your own thoughts? No contest.

You hedge your bets with William Butcher. 

“Mind if I stay?” you ask, careful to keep your tone light.

He gives you a sideways look, one brow quirking upward. It’s a look that says, Why the hell would you want to do that?

You respond by flopping back down on the couch next to him,  pretending the blank computer monitor is the most fascinating thing in the room. You can feel his stare lingering on you, his skepticism practically radiating.

“So,” you say, assuming an air of casualty about you, aloof and haughty. “How many people have you kidnapped?”

Butcher snorts, leaning back with his arms crossed. “That’s usually a second date kinda question.”

You smirk, meeting his dry humor with your own. “So you make a habit of kidnapping young women, then?”

He rolls his eyes. “No.”

Feigning shock, you gasp and place a hand on your chest. “I’m your first? I’m flattered.”

For a moment, his face contorts into genuine bemusement. “Hardly,” he mutters, shaking his head.

Your laughter bubbles up, filling the room with a warmth you hadn’t expected. There’s something oddly satisfying about getting under Butcher’s skin, peeling back layers of his gruff exterior.

When your laughter subsides, he shifts the conversation. “How long you been workin’ for your dad?”

“Six months. Six long months.” You inhale deeply. “I moved home after graduating university. Cambridge, actually. Started interning at his company pretty much right away. It wasn't really my choice, you know? But I do it because…” 

Shit. What do you say? Because having your father's approval means regaining some small shred of self-confidence? Because Monica's preoccupation with your wardrobe, despite her infuriating mannerisms and less than ten-year age gap with you, feels just enough like motherly love that you're willing to entertain it? Because you're so goddamn desperate for love and belonging that you'd lick it off a knife at this point?

“Because it's the right thing to do,” you say finally. And really, is there a better answer than that? 

He nods, his expression softening slightly, though his eyes remain sharp. “And how’s that workin’ out for you?”

You hesitate, tempted to spill everything—the suffocating expectations, the desperate need for approval, the resentment simmering beneath it all. But you settle for a noncommittal shrug.

“What about you?” you counter. “How long have you been in the Supe-killing business?”

His grin is slow and wolfish, the kind that sends a ripple of unease down your spine even as it intrigues you. “Too damn long.”

 Shit, he's charming. 

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm, swapping stories that seem to stretch the hours until they blur. You tell him about your time at Cambridge, the interns at CytoGenix who annoy you, the monotonous ways you fill your free time. He lets you in on how the Boys were first formed, telling you all about a remarkable sounding woman named Grace Mallory. He offers you an abridged version of what happened to his late wife, Becca. The conversation, which began light and easy, takes a quieter, heavier turn as the night stretches on.

Butcher leans back, his gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the walls of the room. He swirls whiskey in a glass, the sharp lines of his face softened by the dim light. “You ever love someone so much it felt like they were the center of your whole bloody world?”

The question catches you off guard. You pause, searching his face. “Yeah. My mom.”

He nods faintly, the corner of his mouth pulling into a bittersweet smile. “Becca was that for me. She was my whole world. Smart, stubborn as hell… too good for the likes of me, if I’m being honest. But she had this way of makin’ you believe in yourself, y’know? Like you were worth somethin’, even when you knew you weren’t.”

There’s a softness in his voice, a vulnerability that makes your chest tighten. You don’t interrupt, sensing how rare these moments are for him.

“I thought I’d done it, beaten the odds,” he continues, his voice quieter now. “Found somethin’ good, somethin’ real. And for a while, I had it. We had it. Then one day, it’s just... gone.”

You don’t know what to say, how to respond to this sudden vulnerability in the stoic man.

“What happened after she was gone… it weren’t just grief. It was like someone ripped my bloody soul out and left me with nothing but rage. I didn’t know how to function without her. I still don’t, most days.”

His jaw tightens, and he looks away, as if the memories are too much to face. You see his fist clench, knuckles turning white.

“I couldn’t save her,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “She needed me, and I failed her. And after that, I had nothin’ left to lose. So I made it my mission to take down the bastards who took her from me. All of ‘em. Vought. Homelander. Every Supe who thinks they can play god.”

You reach out hesitantly, your hand brushing against his arm. “Butcher… none of that was your fault. What happened to Becca… it wasn’t on you.”

He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Maybe not directly, but I didn’t exactly make it easy for her, did I? I put her in the crosshairs just by bein’ me. She deserved better. Better than me, better than this whole bloody mess.”

You sit in silence for a moment, letting his words settle between you. “She loved you, though,” you say softly. “It sounds like she really loved you.”

He exhales sharply, his expression hardening as if trying to shake off the vulnerability. “Yeah. And look where it got her.”

You don’t know what to say to that, the weight of his pain pressing down on you. For all his bravado, for all his rage and resilience, there’s a part of him that’s still broken, still carrying the ghost of Becca with him everywhere he goes.

“You’re not just fighting for revenge, Butcher,” you say finally. “You’re fighting because you want to make sure no one else has to go through what you did. That’s worth something.”

He looks at you then, his gaze softening for a fleeting moment. “Maybe,” he murmurs. “But it don’t bring her back, does it?”

You shake your head, your throat tightening. “No. But it means her loss wasn’t meaningless. You’re doing something with it. And that matters.”

For a while, neither of you speaks. The silence feels heavy but not uncomfortable, as if the words that needed to be said are enough to fill the space between you. Butcher just sits there, his expression unreadable, and you wonder if there’s anything more you can say.

So you offer him stories of your mother, warm pockets of safety and love tucked away in the otherwise chaotic mess of your childhood. You tell him about the way she’d hum old jazz standards as she folded laundry, the soft, lilting tunes filling the house with a strange kind of peace. You remember how Sunday mornings smelled of pancakes and maple syrup, her insistence on cooking breakfast herself rather than letting the kitchen staff take over. Those moments were hers, small rebellions in a life that otherwise wasn’t her own.

“She wasn’t perfect,” you admit, picking lint from the couch. “But she tried. She did her best to give me... something good. Something that wasn’t him.”

Butcher leans back, watching you with a quiet intensity. “Your dad?”

You nod, your lips twisting into a bitter smile. “Mom stayed with him for years, not because she wanted to, God knows she didn’t, but because she was terrified of what would happen if she left. He would’ve dragged her through every court in the state if she tried to take me. And with his money? His connections? She didn’t stand a chance. So she stayed. For me.”

Butcher nods, his expression guarded but attentive. “Sounds like she had some steel in her.”

“She did,” you admit, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. “But steel can break, too. He wore her down, little by little. Made her feel small, worthless, like she was lucky to even be in his orbit. And then…” You hesitate, swallowing hard. “Then there was Monica.”

Butcher curses under his breath at the mention of her name and you can’t help but laugh.

“My dad didn’t even wait six months after my mom died before marrying her,” you say, your voice laced with bitterness and resentment. “She’s this perfect little trophy wife. Perfect hair, perfect nails, perfect clothes. She treats me like I’m some stray dog she’s graciously let into her perfect little world. Every look, every word, it’s like she’s reminding me I don’t belong. God, I can’t fucking stand her.”

“She sounds like a right piece of work,” Butcher says, his tone laced with disdain. “For the record, I’d never confuse you for her. Frenchie and Hughie are just idiots.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Thanks, I guess?”

It's comfortable, this dialogue between the two of you. He's sarcastic, sure, and rough around the edges, but he listens to you when you speak, never cutting you off or zoning out mid-sentence. But above all, you realize, you feel safe with the man. 

The two of you are engrossed in a heated discussion about just how deep the Vought rabbit hole goes when the crackle of the audio transmitter cuts through your banter like a blade, and you both snap to attention. Your father's voice hums through. You glance at the computer clock: 4AM. It's not unusual for him to get up this early to start his work day; his associates know to remain on standby to accommodate his erratic working hours. 

“Henry, it's Stanley.”

Your ears perk up at the name. You know Henry, having worked alongside him throughout your internship. 

Your stomach knots. You mouth quality control to Butcher, who nods, his expression sharpening.

“Listen, my wife wants to bring her friends down for a presentation on what you’ve been working on. I told her she could bring them Monday at ten.”

There’s a pause, then a heavy sigh from your father, the kind you’ve come to dread. A sigh that meant dissatisfaction, and god help the man who dissatisfied Stanley Morgan. You ground yourself, remembering that you are here in this laundromat basement with Butcher, safe.

“Look, Henry, I'm tired of you complaining about cutting corners. You're already way behind schedule, so just do whatever you have to do, and give my wife and her friends a good show, alright?”

You hear the phone receiver land in its cradle with a satisfying click. 

You turn to look at Butcher, finding a devious smile on his face. You return it, beaming at him. Finally, a lead. 

“Monday at ten,” he repeats, his voice practically dripping with glee. “How’s that work for you, sweetheart?”

You can’t help it. You beam back at him, the thrill of finally having a lead coursing through you. For the first time in a long time you no longer feel like you’re treading water. You’re moving forward.

~~~

Sunlight filters through your eyelids, prying you from a restful sleep. You squirm against the intrusion, desperate for a few more minutes of oblivion. Your hand reaches instinctively for your alarm clock, searching for the familiar plastic edge atop your side table. Instead, your fingers meet only air.

Your eyes flutter open, and the world comes into focus. You’re not in your room. The chipped paint on the walls and the musty smell of the basement remind you of where you are—the couch, the monitors, the remnants of last night’s vigil. And then it hits you.

You freeze, gaze snapping to the far end of the faded floral couch. Butcher.

He’s sprawled out awkwardly, face mashed into the armrest, one arm hanging limply over the side. The other, to your horror, is resting on your leg, his large hand curled protectively around your calf.

Shit. 

The memories flood back. You’d celebrated the breakthrough, the first solid lead since you joined. There was laughter, more than you’d ever expected to share with Butcher, and a quiet, companionable silence as the adrenaline faded. Somewhere in between, exhaustion had claimed you.

You’d promised him you’d stay awake. Promised you’d call a taxi as soon as the sky started to lighten. But here you are, wrapped in a scratchy blanket you don’t remember asking for, with Butcher asleep next to you like you’d both done this a hundred times before.

Heat floods your face, embarrassment unfurling in your chest. Embarrassment that you'd fallen asleep on the job, despite your protests that you were fine. Embarrassment that you'd let Butcher see you so vulnerable. But more than that, you feel embarrassed at how deeply and comfortably you’d slept, nestled on a decrepit couch with a man already too large for the shabby piece of furniture, more comfortably than you'd ever slept in your King-size memory foam bed at home.

But you're clearly not that embarrassed, because you give yourself several long, lingering moments to let the warmth soak into your bones. 

With great effort, you shift, slowly extracting your leg from beneath his hand. The warmth lingers as you pull yourself upright, and you let out a soft sigh of relief. The motion is enough to wake Butcher.

He jerks upright with a sharp inhale, eyes wild for a split second before they focus on you. His hair is a tousled mess, and his expression shifts from alertness to something resembling guilt.

“What’s all this?” he mumbles, his voice gravelly with sleep. His gaze flicks to the abandoned blanket, then to you hastily shoving your things into your bag. “Where you off to in such a rush?”

“I, uh…” You avoid his eyes, too flustered to form a coherent excuse. “I just—I need to get going.”

Realization dawns on his face. He glances back at the couch, then down at himself. “Ah, shit,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean to... y’know.” He gestures vaguely, his expression unusually sheepish. “Thought you might be cold, that’s all.”

You freeze mid-step, one hand gripping the doorframe. His tone is softer than you expect, less of the brash bravado you’ve grown used to.

“It’s fine,” you say quickly, your voice tight. “Really, it’s not a big deal.”

“Doesn’t seem that way,” he counters, leaning forward now, elbows on his knees. His dark eyes are sharper, scrutinizing you even in his groggy state. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I just… I wasn’t supposed to fall asleep,” you say, a bit too fast. “I should’ve gone home last night.”

He snorts softly, leaning back against the couch. “You and me both, then. Not like I planned to kip here either.”

You glance at him, your rush to leave faltering at the casual way he shrugs it off.

“Don’t worry about it, love,” he continues, voice dropping into something softer, almost teasing. “Not like you drooled on me or anythin’. Far as disasters go, I reckon this one’s survivable.”

A small laugh escapes you before you can stop it. He smirks, pleased with himself, and the tension in your shoulders eases.

“Thanks for the blanket,” you murmur, glancing down at it again.

“Don’t mention it,” he replies, waving a hand dismissively. “You looked knackered. Figured it was the least I could do after you went an’ pulled a late one with me.”

You nod, unsure of what to say, the warmth from his small gesture still lingering. You glance toward the stairs, bag in hand, ready to leave but no longer feeling the need to escape.

“Monday,” you say, breaking the silence. “We’ll need everyone ready. Let Hughie know?”

He nods, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “Got it. You take care, yeah?”

With one last look at him, still sprawled on the couch, already reaching for his phone, you head up the stairs. The door creaks as you push it open, sunlight spilling into the hallway.

As you push the door open and head up the stairs, you hear him mutter something under his breath, probably a jab at your dramatics. You don’t turn back. The slam of the door echoes behind you, but his gravelly voice lingers, like the warmth of the blanket you left behind.

~~~

It's Monday. 

The air outside the laundromat is brisk, carrying with it the faint metallic tang of the city morning. You lean against the brick wall, one hand stuffed into the pocket of your coat while the other holds a cigarette between your fingers. The cherry glows faintly as you inhale, the smoke curling into the cold air like a soft exhale.

You really don’t try to make a habit of smoking, but your nerves are buzzing under your skin like live wires and the cigarette between your fingers feels like the only thing tethering you to reality right now.

The faint squeak of boots on pavement announces Butcher before you see him. He rounds the corner, a thermos in one hand, his coat hanging open like he couldn’t be bothered to button it up against the chill. His eyes land on you, and his brows jump just slightly, surprise flashing across his face like a flickering bulb.

“Didn’t peg you for a smoker,” he says, voice thick with that familiar edge of mockery. “What is it? Bit of rebellion against Daddy’s company policy?”

You exhale a stream of smoke, turning your head so it doesn’t blow in his direction. “Something like that,” you reply dryly. “Don’t tell HR.”

He snorts, stepping closer. “Secret’s safe with me.” He gives you a once-over, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Though I’ve gotta say, not exactly the picture I had of you. Thought you were more the yoga-and-juice-cleanse type.”

“I contain multitudes,” you say simply, flicking ash from the end of the cigarette.

“That you do,” he murmurs, his tone quieter now, less biting. He digs into his coat pocket and pulls out a crumpled pack of smokes, shaking it slightly to reveal one lone cigarette. “Want another for the road?”

You glance at the cigarette, then back at him, arching a brow. “Didn’t think you were the sharing type.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he says with a crooked grin, lighting it with a battered silver lighter. He takes a long drag and lets the smoke curl out of his mouth slowly. “Just figured it might take the edge off before you head in.”

You hesitate, then shrug. “Alright.” You take the offered cigarette, lighting it with your own lighter. The shared silence that follows is strangely companionable, the kind you wouldn’t have expected when you first met him.

“You nervous?” he asks after a beat, his voice softer than usual.

“Would it matter if I was?”

He studies you for a moment, his gaze sharper than you’re comfortable with. “It’s good to be nervous,” he finally says. “Means you’re payin’ attention. It’s when you stop that you get sloppy. Or worse, dead.”

“Comforting,” you say wryly, taking another drag.

He smirks, tilting his head toward the laundromat. “Come on. Hughie’ll start wringin’ his hands if we’re out here much longer.”

You stub out the cigarette on the brick wall, tucking the butt into a pocket so it doesn’t litter the street. Butcher watches this with a faintly amused expression but says nothing.

As the two of you head inside, the air between you feels lighter, the tension from earlier diffused into the cold morning. Hughie looks up from the monitors, his face a mix of relief and nervous energy.

“Ready?” he asks, glancing between you and Butcher.

Butcher claps him on the shoulder, all mock bravado. “’Course we are. Let’s get on with it, then.”

You follow Butcher and Hughie out, a small ember of calm glowing within you.

~~~

Exiting Butcher's discreetly parked van, you nudge Hughie down the narrow alley, leading the way toward your old smoking spot. It’s quiet here, and the less attention you draw, the better. You swipe your ID pass through the scanner, tossing a glance down the fluorescent-lit corridor. The hall stretches in that sterile, clinical way it always does, but today, it feels like a goddamn maze. It feels like you’re on the other side of a mirror, like you're not supposed to be here.

You bite back the urge to whisper “All clear!”  to Hughie, but you quickly swallow the words. It’s too risky; you know Butcher’s listening. One slip-up, and he’ll be all over you like a fucking rash, reminding you of your amateur status. You bite your tongue just in time to avoid the barrage of shit he’d throw at you later.

Inside the building, you inspect your new “intern.” You ditched your monogrammed designer lab coat in favor of a plain, CytoGenix-branded one, lifted from a storage closet. Nothing flashy. Hughie’s got one on too, also stolen, one of the last clean ones in the closet. You’ve opted for business casual today, trying to blend in as best you can.  In an effort to obscure yourself further, you'd styled your hair differently and worn fake glasses. You want to look like just another office drone. Like you belong.

“You good?” you ask Hughie, keeping your voice low. He nods, trying his best to look confident, but you catch that little tremor in his fingers as he adjusts the collar of his borrowed lab coat. Poor guy’s barely keeping it together, and you’re not doing much better yourself.

The mission, should everything go to plan, is simple. You and Hughie disguise yourselves as nameless interns puttering around in the lab, eavesdropping on Monica's tour. Once you figure out what it is they're working on in the lab, you quietly slip out and report back to Butcher in the van parked outside. Butcher who you've been avoiding since your makeshift sleepover. Butcher who, in turn, has seemingly rebuilt the cement walls of his gruff exterior that he let slip that night. Today feels just as much like a test as it does a reconnaissance mission. 

Here goes nothing. 

You guide Hughie to the Quality Control lab. Thankfully it's only three floors down into the basement, as Hughie blanches when you explain just how deep into the earth CytoGenix’s headquarters go. 

When you get to the lab, you spot the small group of VIPs that’s gathered for the tail end of the tour. Perfect timing. 

“So, as you can see, thanks to the cutting edge technologies at our fingertips, CytoGenix is leading the way in pharmaceutical breakthroughs,” says the chipper tour guide. Monica stands with the group, preening under Homelander and Ashley Barrett’s attention. The gooseflesh on your arms prickle at the sight of the evil Supe and corrupt CEO. 

The tour guide gestures toward a large window at the back of the lab. “Now, if everyone could follow me,” she chirps, her voice grating, “we’d like to give you all a demonstration of V2’s first human test subject!”

Your stomach twists. Human test subject. You weren't sure what you were expecting from this tour, but it wasn't this. The lab’s always been about gene splicing and advanced therapies, but this? This is something else. Something darker. Was your father’s company involved in testing on people, or was this just the tip of a very fucked up iceberg?

The crowd gathers around the window, tittering with excitement. You and Hughie hang back, miming preoccupation with the lab supplies laying around. 

A light flickers on, illuminating the dark window. A two-way mirror. Inside, the room is featureless and blindingly white, save for a young man curled up in the corner, his face drawn and terrified. As the light flickers on, he jerks upright, eyes wide with panic. You feel your gut twist.

A woman enters the room, clad in the same branded lab coat that you wear now. She carries a syringe filled with green liquid that seems to emit a glow from within. She murmurs something to the young man, who hesitantly rolls his sleeve up, offering his arm to her. She injects the liquid, taking a long step backward. 

Then the screaming starts.

Purple veins spread from the injection site, skin rippling unnaturally, his body contorting in ways that aren’t human. Suddenly the arm that had been injected begins to elongate, stretching into a grotesque tentacle. You can hear the faintest squelching sound as his body twists. The man stares at his arm in horror, mouth gaping, before his face suddenly goes slack, vacant eyes lolling toward the female lab technician. 

The woman is scrambling toward the door she came in through, but it's closed now, flush against the wall with no handle for her to grasp. She bangs and thrashes against the door, begging for someone to open the door and let her out. 

Then the tentacle shoots across the room, faster than you can react. It wraps around her head and jerks back. The sound of skin tearing from bone echoes in the sterile white room as her face is ripped off like peeling wallpaper. Her face hits the two-way mirror with a wet slap before her body collapses to the floor.

The tour guide quickly steps forward, flicking a switch on the wall. You hear a soft hiss as the room begins to fill with gas, the man's eyes rolling backward as he loses consciousness, slumping against the wall. The locked door is suddenly thrust open, and this time a man clad in biohazard gear enters. He makes a wide arc around the faceless lab tech, reaching down to grab the tentacle man around his armpits, dragging his limp body out of the room. The lights finally, blessedly, go out. 

The tour guide smiles like it’s all part of the show, like she’s done this a thousand times. The group is dead silent, some swaying with lightheadedness. Monica's eyes flit around the crowd, desperate for a reaction.

You can feel the tension in the air. Your hand clenches at your side, but you don’t dare look around. Not yet.

Then, slowly, the applause starts.

Clap. Clap. Clap. 

Homelander starts clapping slowly, grinning like a predator.

“Bravo!” he says, his voice rich with mock sincerity. “Truly remarkable.” He’s fucking giddy, practically glowing at what he just witnessed.

You, on the other hand, feel ill. There's no way that woman can't be dead. And the man… He seemed so afraid. There's no way he knew what would happen to him once he was injected. Was he dead now?

But then the crowd picks up, clapping, cheering. It’s all a fucking spectacle to them. Monica beams, her fake smile stretched to the limit.

“Everyone, V2!” she says, as if she’s introducing the next big thing at a tech expo.

More cheers.

“More potent than Compound V alone, V2 more reliably gives recipients powers in the A-tier or above,” she announces, spinning the whole thing like it's some kind of miracle drug. “It also inhibits the prefrontal cortex, meaning the Supes it produces will be more... suggestible. Easier to control.”

Homelander chuckles darkly. “So, a Supe lobotomy?” His voice is casual, but the tension in the air spikes.

Monica blinks, taken aback, but then her smile returns—brighter, more fixed. She can’t afford to offend him.

“Exactly what we need if we're going to make a Supe army,” Homelander agrees. “Excellent work, Monica.”

The crowd erupts in cheers again, and you feel like you're suffocating. The air is thick with their sick excitement, and you’re drowning in it.

 There was so much blood, so many little pieces of muscle and tissue painting the paper-white room, like a fucked up Rorschach. The man looked like he could have been younger than you. There's no way he knew what was going to happen to him, no one would ever agree to that. 

Monica's inhumanly white veneers are bared in a painful smile, beaming like a mother at what she'd help create. Was this how your mother died? Had she spent her last moments in fear and pain? It was a closed casket… Was that to hide the damage? Your heart starts to race. The air feels too thick, too hot. 

You catch yourself just as your vision darkens, hunching over a utility cart carrying empty test tubes. The tubes jostle, glass clinking, drawing the crowd's attention to you. Your hair, having fallen around your face, acts as a curtain separating you from the prying eyes. Still, you can feel the laser eyes on you, watching, only a moment away from thinking, Doesn't she look familiar? Is that Stanley's daughter? What's she doing here, with that guy? 

The woozy feeling in your body is immediately replaced with intense, soaring adrenaline. Before you can think, you make a break for it, keeping your head down to continue obscuring your face. Hughie follows, his steps frantic behind you.

The crowd hesitates before you hear quickening footsteps and yells. 

The frantic voice of a lab tech rings out “Homelander, no! No lasers in the lab!”

“Fuck!” You yank Hughie forward, forcing him to move faster.

The sound of lasers tearing through the air is unmistakable, the pops of small explosions echoing out. You dive into the stairwell, barely avoiding the beams as they scorch the air around you. The heat on your back makes your skin crawl.

You hear the security team yelling, but you don’t stop. You push forward, practically pulling Hughie up the stairs, praying like hell that the explosions Homelander triggered are buying you enough time. The sound of blood rushing in your ears deafens you to the metal clattering your steps make as you race to reach the ground floor. 

You burst out of the stairwell back into those fluorescent lights, not bothering to look upward on the chance that an errant glance might get caught on security cameras. You head straight down the hall, not breaking speed, not letting go of Hughie until you're both careening down the alleyway. Butcher's white van is waiting exactly where you left it. 

Only, the door you just exited out of slams open, a chorus of feet smacking the cement twenty paces behind you. They're close, too damn close. 

The van is so close you can see the flecks of rust around the wheel wells, can almost read the vulgar bumper sticker barely clinging to the back door. But they're too close. You'll barely be able to close the doors behind you before the posse at your backs clamor around the vehicle, blocking Butcher's escape. 

You make a split second decision and pray to whatever greater being might be listening that it's a good one. 

You're vaguely aware of the van in your periphery as you speed past it, unable to see Butcher in the driver's seat, but knowing he's there nonetheless. What you don't see is his panic, the frantic foot on the gas pedal, the mental math trying to determine what the fuck you two dimwits are doing as you descend into the New York subway system.

@bluemerakis

@mystic-writings

@imherefordeanandbones

[cinnamorwll]

hii girlies, it’s cinnamorwll!! first of all i want to apologize for my disappearing act lately, i’ve been deep in my winter arc (my entire existence has basically revolved around making vision boards for everything i want to achieve next year), one of those goals? getting really active on this blog! so this is officially my attempt to turn this space into a cozy and cute little online journal where i can share some little diary entries, and honestly, i trust you girlbloggers as my most loyal and trustworthy sisters!! we can spill the tea and keep each other’s secrets here, period.

so welcome to Footsteps! (it’s a temporary name—i’m indecisive, sue me—but i picked it cos it’s about the small things in life that can still leave a considerable impact) feel free to hit me up in the comments and i’ll be there chatting with youuu, oh and just a heads-up: these posts aren’t usually going to be THIS long i just have a LOT to say for this first one… this episode is called “Cinnamorwll’s 2024 Dating Wrapped”—spoiler alert: nothing happened! literally, it was just silly crushes but dw i’ve got some funny stories to share so grab a snack and stay with me <33

let’s start with S, because i’m still processing what happened but let’s rewind to the beginning… so, i met S last year when i switched schools, and from the moment i saw him i was completely charmed, maybe it’s because he looks exactly like 2000s Milo Ventimiglia (yes, Jess Mariano himself), but also because he’s genuinely a nice person… he’s a grade above me so i mostly just saw him passing but every single interaction we had made me a nervous wreck, and let me tell you, girl, these interactions were PAINFULLY awkward, like, i wanted to bury myself alive after each one! and at first i was determined not to like him because he’s the walking embodiment of a high school movie cliché: one of the most popular boys in school, everyone knows him, and he’s kind of a big deal, but by the middle of the year, it was already too late; he had fully claimed the title of my ultimate corridor crush… i even wrote a few poems about him, they’d just come to me randomly but i never showed anyone, obviously (those are confined in a secret vault for all eternity), then, at the beginning of this year, i had THE dream! we were in some blurry, hazy dreamlike place (very tumblr core aesthetic omg), and we bumped into each other, like, full-on collision! he made a joke and then he walked away… when i woke up i was so devastated that it was just a dream but i immediately wrote the whole thing down as a song because… what else was i supposed to do?

“We almost kissed, you laughed a little bit, and it made me a little less nervous, you told me a joke…”

i won’t share the whole thing YET but that was basically the first verse, anyway, life went on, i kept seeing him here and there, and every interaction was awkward beyond belief but then the CRAZIEST thing happened… picture this: it’s the last day of school (december 3rd to be exact) and u know how everyone’s in that chaotic “literally-no-one-cares-anymore” vibe? i was standing with my friends by the classroom door and apparently he was standing right next to me but i didn’t notice him! so when i turned around, we didn’t just bump into each other, we CRASHED! like, our faces touched! it was so quick but i let out this tiniest little scream because it startled me, and he just laughed then he hit me with the one-liner that’s going to haunt me for the next seven years: “I know you like this kind of stuff, but it won’t be me.”

my friends obviously laughed and i just stood there wanting to dig a hole and hide FOREVER… but here’s the thing, did you notice? what happened to me is exactly what i wrote in that song, like… WHAT??? i don’t know if you believe in the law of attraction, manifestation, or anything like that, i do—kind of, but i’ve never gone super deep into it or done techniques intentionally, but LOOK AT MY LYRICS! is it possible i manifested that interaction? i mean i dreamed about it, wrote a silly little song, sang it to myself occasionally, and then it actually happened! we bumped into each other, we laughed, and he made a joke, it’s INSANE!!

and no, i’m not making this up, i even have the receipts in the group chat with my besties because we dissected this whole thing later… the good news is he’s a senior so he’s off to college next year, and i’ll (hopefully) never see him again, which is perfect because i know the second i see him again, i’ll be charmed all over, and i DO NOT want that, two years of crushing were torturous enough, thank you very much!

let’s move on to K, shall we? omg where do i even start? okay, so yesterday, he made the first move and texted me, naturally i thought it was a safe zone, so we started chatting and i had no idea what to say so i hit him with “oh you like tyler the creator? taste!” and he was like, “omg yeah blah blah blah,” and i was like, “omg i love him too blah blah blah” (i have never listened to tyler the creator in my life) anyway, turns out K is not just a fan; he’s a full-on tyler the creator Spinjitzu master (his words, not mine), he even listened to all the unreleased stuff, probably knows the man’s grocery list too! i was like, wow, this dude is dedicated! we were vibing, or so i thought… but then idk what happened, one minute he was saying “hey, stay, i still want to talk to you” and the next he’s GHOSTING ME??? … it’s been a whole day now so maybe i’m being dramatic (shocking, i know) but still… WHAT???

honestly, maybe this is my karma, i mean, i’ve ghosted people before but only because i’m a chronic over-thinker, like, i’ll convince myself i’m annoying them or tiring them, it’s something i’m working on, i swear!! social interactions (even online) just freak me out sometimes, but i do LOVE talking to my online besties, but sometimes i feel like i’m the worst at conversations… but i always come back to reply eventually, even if it’s just to apologize for taking forever… but K? oh, no, he straight-up disappeared… oh, wait—scratch that! i just remembered that he’s been posting stuff, so he definitely saw my message, maybe he’s just busy? idk we’ll see

to be fair, i was already cautious about him because he’s blonde, and let’s be honest, blonde boys are always trouble, but this one had glasses, so i thought he’d be different

finally, i’ve gotta give an honorable mention to C! and chat, he is so, so, SO cute!! we’re basically the same person, but in different fonts, you know? we have the same taste in music, the same tiktok reposts, the same interests… it’s kind of spooky! but i’m way too nervous to talk to him… we’ve had a few interactions, and i know for a fact that he’s really nice, but i’ll let you know if i ever actually talk to him… right now, i’m just hoping the universe will throw us together somehow, anyway, i really wish the best for him and everything, and maybe next year i’ll work up to the courage to at least be friends with him, fingers crossed!

final thoughts? i’m an emotional mess who ruminates over everything i can’t control, but hey, at least it gave me some solid content to write about… and next time i do this, i really hope i’ll have something more exciting to report, like “i have a boyfriend!” or whatever, but we’ll see what next year has in store for us

guess that’s it… this is probably gonna flop so bad but i’m posting it anyway because i need to get it off my chest (and definitely out of my notes app). i hope you liked it, i didn’t! oh and i almost forgot, happy belated christmas!! i hope you all had an amazing time!! i love each and every one of you sooooo much <33

(footstep: stalking his following list won’t do you any good btw 😭)

[whyareyoureyesblack]

👋 I'm super late to the contest thing but tbh I don't mind that. I'm just happy I got it finished and i like how it turned out so- 🤲

Congrats to @evelynismahnameboi for the 800+ on Insta! And to the contest winners! They were all so good c:

[isavulpix]

Christmas at The Harper's

Reader x Roy Harper, Lian Harper

I havent write a fanfic in so long that I'm super nervous about this. It was supposed to be a Jason Toddx reader, but then Roy happened. I hope yall enjoy it and Happy Christmas!

Warning: I havent read a dc comic, so Roy may be OOC. All my knowledge on him comes from other fanfics and google. My first language isn't english so there will be errors.

It was a weird and peaceful day in Gotham. The snow had fallen the night before, so you could hear the laughs and joyful screams of the older kids playing outside. It was a week before Christmas and Lian was in her Bluey PJs on the couch eating the remains of the gingerbread house she had made the day before with her father. The local Gotham channel was doing a Christmas movie marathon, right now The Grinch was. Her father had left early in the morning, so it was just you two in the apartment.

Lian groaned when a commercial break popped, but before she could change for Netflix, the commercial got her attention. It was about a family giving each other gifts and it confused her. Wasn’t that Santa’s job? She stood from the couch and quickly put on her bunny sleepers to run toward her father's room knowing you were there organizing the drawer you shared with Roy. You always got annoyed with her dad for not folding the clothes.

“Why did those people give gifts to each other? Does Santa not visit them?” Lian looks up at you, her eyes wondering about the commercial. You stopped what you were doing and panicked internally, how did you explain to Lian without accidentally ruining it? Damn, Roy for not being here because of late toy shopping. You turned to Lian and cursed when you saw the look on her face, for a 5-year-old she was very persistent.

“Well…um…Santa does visit them; it is just that they love each other so much that they decide to also give a gift to each other. Like we do in birthdays…” You hoped that the last-minute explanation was enough for her curiosity because you certainly didn’t have anything else. Lian looks at you and blinks three times before nodding, you let out a breath and relax.

“Did you get something for Daddy?” Lian balanced her weight from side to side.

“Well yeah?” You hope she doesn’t catch the uncertainty in your tone, was your explanation a good one? You hope Roy doesn’t get mad, but you're shaken from your thoughts when you see Lian eyes getting watery. Shit, you totally fuck up.

“Wait wait” You squat to her level; you were certain that you ruined something because of your explanation. “Why are you crying, sweetie?” You run the conversation in your head to see if you accidentally said something stupid or insinuated that Santa wasn’t real, really wishing it wasn’t the last one. You didn’t want to be responsible for dying the magic of Santa for her.

“I haven’t bought a gift for Daddy” You can barely understand what she says because of her crying and you mentally high-five yourself, Santa is still alive. Now you need to fix the new problem.

“Oh, that’s fine sweetie. We can give Daddy what I got him.” Your fingers clean her running tears, you pout a little as she keeps crying.

“No, you said they gifted each other because they love each other so I need to give Daddy something” Lian lips wobble as she rubs her eyes.

“You don’t have to per se....and I promise Daddy won't be mad about it, but if you still want to gift Daddy something what about those cards you make? He is always so happy when you give him one” Your reassurance helps, and Lian stops crying and plays with her fingers. You could eat her chubby cheeks with how adorable she is.

“Daddy really likes them?” Your heart almost bursts at how cute she looks.

“Your daddy loves them, especially when is a drawing of you two.” You smile at her and Lian smiles back. Damn, you're good at this. “We can even buy some of your Daddy's favorite chocolate to accompany your card.” Lian nods and runs to her room determined to make the best Christmas card ever made, and you punch the air. A crisis is avoided like a pro, you deserve some hot chocolate.

As the days passed the air got colder and the streets that didn’t have that much snow were now completely covered with the white fluffiness. You had spent the week of Christmas in Roy and Lian apartment. Both of them insist every night for you to stay the night. You turned in your sleep, your unconscious body seeking the nearest heat supply. It was Roy's body that was much hotter than yours, he was on the other side of the bed sleeping when your cold feet and hands woke him up.

He mumbles incoherent words as he tries to move away from the cold, his movement wakes you up making you pout. How dare he move away from you? So, when his back faces you, you interlock your legs with him and move a hand to his torso making him grumble.

“How are you so damn cold? The heater is on” He turns to face you knowing you weren’t going to let him be.

“The heater isn't enough; I need your body heat” Roy chuckles and kisses your forehead. He could feel you move your cold limbs in his clothes, but he doesn’t dare move. Roy moves you to be even closer to him and rubs your back. He closes his eyes and thinks about how grateful he is for having you in his life, he didn’t know what would have been of Lian and him if you weren’t in the picture. He always thought and said you were too good for him. He prayed that he could make you even happier than what you made him be and give you everything you deserved.

“You know, it's weird that Lian hasn’t come in to wake us up to go open gifts” You mumble against Roy's chest, loving how affectioned he was being this morning. Sadly, your words make Roy remember the last Christmas fiasco. Lian had silently opened most of her gifts and he missed taking pictures of it. Roy quickly untangles from you, skips to the living room, and sighs when the gifts are untouched under the tree.

You follow him at a slower pace and look at him confused, but even weirder is the toddler sitting on the couch waiting patiently while watching Frozen. Aren't kids supposed to be hyper at Christmas? “Good morning, Lian” I hug her, and kiss her forehead, and she smiles repeating my words with more excitement for her dad and you.

“Did you peek at what Santa got you?” Roy had an eyebrow raised; he couldn’t believe his kid waited for them to wake up, not when she knew that more than half of the presents were for her.

“I didn’t, Daddy!” Lian smiles at her father, which makes him more suspicious. Before he can ask more, she runs to the tree and returns with a small gift bag. “I got you a gift, Daddy!” You get your phone and start recording the moment between father and daughter.

Roy Harper's heart almost failed at that moment. Lian excitement wasn’t all about the presents Santa got her. Half of her excitement was to finally give him the gift she had made days ago. “You did?” He takes the gift, but first pepper kisses Lian face.

“Daddy! Stop” Lian giggles and tries to escape the kisses attack. “And I did!” Lian smiles even more. “(Y/N) said that besides Santa, you can also give gifts to the people you love. She also got you something but open mine first!”

Roy smiles and pulls Lian onto his lap and pats the space beside him. You take the sign and sit down making sure to capture both of them. Inside the bag, there was Roy's favorite candy like you promised to Lian, plus the card. The card was made with white paper, one side there was a drawing of three stick people that resembled you three. The stick people were around a big three and Santa was stuck in the chimney, this made Roy and you laugh. When he looked at the other side of the card, a tear almost escaped. With big chunky writing, it said “Appy Crismas to the dest daddy!” and a lot of hearts.

Roy pulled Lian again into a tight hug. “This is the best gift I have ever gotten, pipsqueak. Thank you so much.” He kisses the side of her forehead, and Lian, satisfied with her work being done runs to open her gifts. Roy takes the moment to pull you into his arms.

“Happy Christmas, Roy” You hug him as you two watch Lian open her gifts and act surprised.

“Happy Christmas, (Y/N) …and thanks.” He mumbles the last part as he hugs you tighter, only catching it because of the closeness.  

[punksyeet]

ᰔᩚ Under The Mistletoe ᰔᩚ

Plot: Gianna (OC) and Josh spend Christmas Eve at a party, and end it with a night from their dreams.

Warning: Lots of flirting & light smut (mostly teasing)!

A/N: merry belated christmas to all who celebrate. i hope everyone had / is having a safe and happy holiday season. this one-shot is christmas themed, so please ignore how late it’s coming out. life kinda unexpectedly got in the way around the holidays. anywho, that’s all. i hope you guys enjoy this one! 🎄♥️

—————————————————————————————————

The faint sound of Chris Brown's "This Christmas" echoes through my bathroom as I apply one last layer of lip gloss in the mirror.

Tonight, for Christmas Eve, I was invited to a house party by my boyfriend Joshua.

It's taking place at his twin brother and sister in law's place down in Orlando.

I'm usually not the party type, but I'm super excited.

Reason being, Josh has been on the road with his job over at WWE a little extra lately, since they're doing a bunch of live shows as well as televised tapings.

In other words, if I didn't see him enough before the holidays, that man is an absolute ghost now.

I put my makeup away and fluff out my hair, making sure I'm satisfied with it, before leaving the bathroom to get dressed.

When picking out my outfit last night, I decided to go with something elegant yet super chic and flattering.

After all, I'm gonna be pulling up with the finest man in the world so I gotta look good!

I step into a red lace lingerie set, followed by a strapless, long sleeved, sheer cotton body-con red dress.

Just as I'm finishing up spraying some perfume, my doorbell rings.

I check myself in the mirror once more before heading down.

I take a deep breath and open the front door to a gorgeous sight: my man dressed in all black, alongside his gold chain and silver jewelry on his wrist and ears.

"Damn ma," he mutters, scanning my body and sexily licking his lips. "You look good as hell."

I playfully roll my eyes, my arms folded over my chest and body leaned against the doorframe.

"Hello to you too Joshua," I tease, smirking.

He chuckles and steps inside, sliding his hands across my waist. "My bad, mama. You caught me off guard in this dress though forreal."

"Well thank you," I reply, closing the door behind him and wrapping my arms around his neck. "You look handsome as always."

He smiles and leans in, pressing his lips to mine.

I automatically kiss back and give him a couple more pecks before pulling away and wiping my lip gloss off of his lips with my thumb.

"I missed you mama," he exclaims, sliding his hands down to my ass and giving it a tiny squeeze.

"I miss you too baby," I reply, rubbing his back. "Lemme just throw my heels on and we can head out."

I turn around and walk over to the shoe cubby near my basement door.

"What's the rush?" Josh asks, leaning against the wall. "The party don't start for another two hours."

I grab my shoes and sit on the couch, to begin putting them on.

"I told Trin I'd help her set up," I reply. "And besides, if we stay here, we both know we'll never make it in time."

He smirks and bats his eyelashes innocently. "I don't know what you mean."

I shake my head smiling, as he sits down next to me and grabs my face, attacking my cheek with kisses.

"Boy enough," I playfully scold between giggles, pushing him away.

He chuckles and smacks my ass as I get up. "Aight. But when I bring you back here later, that ass is mine."

"Yeah yeah," I brush him off, making a shooing motion with my hand. "Whatever you say."

He smirks and, hand in hand, we walk out and to his car.

"After you my lady," he coos, opening the passenger door and holding out his hand.

I smile and take it, intertwining our fingers.

"Thank you lovebug," I reply, kissing his cheek and stepping in.

He kisses my hand before letting it go and shutting my door.

Eventually, he hops in and we're off.

The car ride is filled with small talk, laughs, thigh rubs, and stolen kisses.

I missed this so much.

—————————————————————————————————

Hand in hand, Josh and I walk up the steps to the front door and ring the doorbell.

Trin and Jon's dogs, Marley and Tank, automatically start barking from behind the door.

"Giiiii!" Trin squeals, wrapping me into a tight hug once she opens the door.

I giggle and hug back, as she rocks us back and forth.

"Hi Trin!" I reply excitedly, once we pull away. "You look amazing."

"Me?!" she shrieks, holding her hand on her chest and scanning my body up and down. "Bitch, look at you! Look at this body!"

She hypes me up, snapping and getting low in front of me.

I flick my hair back sassily and we share a laugh.

"Hey hey," Josh butts in. "She's mine, sis. Get in line."

"Oh shut up!" Trin replies, playfully whacking him and wrapping me into another hug.

I laugh, hugging back and stick my tongue out at my man.

He glares in response, smirking.

After greeting Josh with a hug as well, she invites us in and shuts the door.

"Jurdy!" she calls, standing by the banister. "Hurry your ass up! Jey and Gi are here!"

"I'll get him," Josh announces, giving me a quick kiss and running upstairs.

I chuckle and head over to the island, where there's a butt load of decorations.

"You two are so cute," Trin coos, joining me and separating all the decor.

I lightly blush, smiling. "Thanks, sis. I couldn't be any more happy."

She sticks out her bottom lip. "It shows, girl. You're absolutely glowing!"

"No pun intended," she adds, nudging me.

We share a laugh and quick hug before getting started.

"You can start on the table," she orders, opening up a package of red and green helium balloons that spell out "MERRY CHRISTMAS". 

I give her a thumbs up, head over to the dining table, and immediately get to work.

I pick out some cute plates, wine glasses, and utensils from her kitchen, as well as some beautiful candle holders and trees that smell of fresh pine.

About ten minutes later, the entire living area is complete and filled to the brim with Christmas cheer.

Trin claps and squeals. "It looks amazing!"

I giggle and look around, smiling. "It really does."

She holds up both of her hands, facing me. "We did that!"

Chuckling, I accept her offer and we share double high fives.

As we're cleaning up excess wrappers, Jon and Josh appear near the stairs.

"Dang it looks nice in here," Jon compliments, looking around.

"Thanks boo," Trin says, walking over to him and kissing his cheek.

I smile and finish perfecting the table before they all join me in the kitchen.

"The table looks beautiful ma," Josh coos and kisses my temple.

"Forreal," Jon agrees, throwing an arm around me. "You did your thing, sis!"

"Aww thank you guys," I reply, smiling softly and side-hugging him.

A little while later, it's officially 6pm and guests start pouring in.

The guest list includes a bunch of family and family friends including: Jon and Josh's parents, Joe and Galina, Sefa and Almia, Dwayne and Lauren, Jade and Brandon, Bianca and Kenneth, Sarona, and more.

—————————————————————————————————

It's a couple hours into the party and, while the guys are out in the backyard having drinks and talking, us girls are in the living room gossiping.

"I'm gonna go grab a refill," I announce, getting up and grabbing my wine glass. "Anyone want anything?"

Everyone politely declines and goes back to their conversations once I walk away.

I head into the kitchen and grab an open bottle of Pinot Grigio from the counter, when I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

"Hey gorgeous girl," Josh greets me, nuzzling his face into my neck.

I smile softly and turn to face him, leaning against the counter.

"Hi love," I greet back, running my fingers through his curls. "You having fun with the guys?"

"Mhm," he hums in reply. "It's real nice to have everyone reunited, you know?"

I nod smiling, and adjust his collar.

"Whatchu doin' with the girls?" he asks, stroking my sides.

I shrug, wrapping my arms back around his neck. "Not much. Just talking, that's all."

"That's good baby," he replies, removing a curl from my face. "I'm happy you're having a good time."

I smile softly and nod. "I am."

He smiles, grabs either side of my face gently, and kisses my forehead.

I blush, brushing our noses together.

While I'm looking up at him, I catch a glimpse of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.

"Whatchu lookin' at b-" he stops in his tracks when he follows my eyes and looks up, a goofy smirk falling over his lips.

I giggle and hide my face in his chest.

He chuckles and taps my butt playfully. "Hey, hey. Don't get all shy on me now, girl. You know the rules."

He gently removes my head from his chest, cups my face, and pulls me in.

From the second our lips connect, butterflies are swarming in my stomach.

With every stroke, the kiss gets more and more heated.

Tongue.

Innocent touching.

The whole nine yards.

When we finally pull apart, he presses his forehead to mine, giving us both a chance to catch our breath.

"Come with me mama," he orders quietly, holding out his hand.

I nod, taking it. "Where are we going?"

He kisses my forehead and smirks. "Upstairs. Babygirl, I'm gonna give you a Christmas present you'll never forget."

My eyes go wide as he strokes my hand with his thumb. "B-but the party..."

"No one will notice we're gone ma," he reassures. All the guys are drunk off their asses anyway. Come kick it with your boy upstairs for a bit."

A soft smile appears on my face as he brings my hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

"I'll take that gorgeous smile as a yes," he continues, in between chuckles.

He leads us upstairs and into the guest bedroom.

** light smut warning! **

Once the door shuts behind us, our lips are connected once more, my back pressed up against the cool wooden surface.

The longer the kiss lasts, the more clothes come peeling off our bodies.

"So fucking beautiful," Josh coos, stroking my sides once I'm completely out of my dress.

I blush in reaction to the compliment and take control, grabbing his hand and leading us to the bed.

I order him to sit down and he does, looking up at me with those gorgeous brown eyes that I love so much.

They soon move lower onto my body as I give him a show, sexily removing my undergarments and straddling his lap.

Sliding my hands up his chest and slowly grinding against his now rock hard bulge, I lean down and connect our lips once more.

"Mmm fuck," he groans into my mouth, eventually shoving his tongue down my throat.

A few minutes later, we pull apart and switch positions.

"Lay back baby," he demands, his voice lustful and deep, just above a whisper. "It's gonna be a long night."

My breath hitches as he gently pushes me back and hovers over me, his cold chain ever so slightly caressing my breasts.

** light smut over! **

"I've missed you mama," he mutters into my neck. "Let me show you exactly how much."

And, boy, does he ever.

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[jessicaloons]

INVISIBLE STRING: FROM THE VAULT

Part 3: A Christmassy story…

Masterlist

Merry Christmas everyone 🎄🎅🏻♥️

Better late than never! As it is during Christmas, it all gets a little hectic and what I wanted to post last night had to be postponed to today… it’s a little something I started to write a year ago, at Christmas, while watching one of my all time favourite Christmas movies.

And now no more talking, here it is…

Christmas 2027:

"Radiation?" Joris cocked an eyebrow.

"Radiation." I shrugged my shoulders and he chuckled "Don’t ask. It’s- it’s her newest ick…"

"You’re surrounded by radiation the entire day with having your phone with you? So where’s the difference at ni-…"

"That’s exactly the point. Your body is exposed to radiation all day long, so at night, when it resets, there shouldn’t be any radiation!" Lizzie’s voice rang out behind us, making Joris flinch "I’ve read it in various magazines! So it can’t be that wrong!"

I had to chuckle, looking at Joris’ petrified face when Lizzie glared at me, although I could see her eyes getting watery.

"It’s not funny!" her voice strained.

"It’s not, cara mia. You’re right. I’m sorry." I replied.

"I’m not crazy…" she sniffled a little and I felt bad.

"No, you’re not! I know that, okay?" I said immediately and got up from my seat, cupping her cheek and gently stroked the side of her bump "You’re doing everything to protect our babies… so whatever you think is best we’ll do! You’re an amazing mum, okay?"

She only nodded slightly and turned away, her shoulders slumped.

"I lay down for a bit…" she whispered and waddled off, taking a short look into Emmie’s room, before she continued to our bedroom.

"I swear I didn’t want to upset her!" Joris looked at me with big eyes and I sighed, sitting back down.

"Believe me, same. The last 2 or 3 days it’s been tough, she’s more emotional than usually…" I rubbed my temples, leaning back "One moment she’s happy and bubbly, the next moment she cries about how there’s only one apple left and that it might feel alone… and then she’s mad at herself for crying about such ridiculous things which makes her cry even more because she thinks I’m annoyed of her being an emotional mess… which is not true at all. I love it. I swear."

"You’re probably the only guy on earth who loves his pregnant wife’s mood swings." Joris laughed.

"It’s cute… when she’s this bubbly Lizzie, who turns over a jar she can’t open first super frustrated and then grumpy like never seen before and curses it like there’s no tomorrow, just to be sad the next moment that whatever’s in the jar is lost forever…"

"And then you chime in and save the day…" he wiggled with his eyebrows and I held up my hands.

"You know, not all heroes wear capes… but they still get a proper thank you… if you know what I mean…"

"Yeah. No. Gross…"

Right when I wanted to reply I heard the soft steps of Emmie and Arlo approaching and when I turned a little I saw them both walk around the corner.

"Dada? Mummy look sad?" her sweet little voice sounded truly concerned and I opened my arms, hoisting her up into my lap "Why mummy sad?"

"She’s not sad, Emmie. Just a little emotional."

"Emonal?" she repeated and I smiled.

"Emotional…" I said slowly, while she quietly said the word again "That’s when you feel all sorts of emotions… that’s feelings. Sad, happy, tired, funny, moody… and you just don’t know what’s the real feeling. So you get a little overwhelmed with emotions… it’s nothing bad. It happens. Especially when someone carries a baby, or like mummy two, in their belly…"

"Mummy feel for baby one and baby two?" Emmies eyes widened and I had to chuckle.

"Yes, my little princess, that’s exactly what mummy’s feeling. Her feelings and baby one and twos feelings."

"Lot of feelings!"

"Oh yes! A lot of feelings!" I nodded and she sighed, cuddling into my chest "You know what? Why don’t you help me and Joris make some hot chocolate for mummy?"

Emmie’s eyes lit up and she jumped off my lap, already pulling me up on my feet before she grabbed onto Joris hand, doing the same.

"Comes on, Jojo! Hot chotlat for mummy!" she chirped and pulled him with her.

"I’m coming, Emmie-bug." he laughed and picked her up, following me into the kitchen, where he sat her down on the kitchen island.

"Emmie hot chotlat, too!" she looked first at me and then at Joris with her big puppy eyes and I could melt away on the spot.

"Let’s make hot chocolate for us all, okay? And then we can watch a movie before bedtime, how does that sound?"

"No bedtime."

"Emmie, we have to get up early tomorrow! We’re leaving for Christmas!" I reminded her but she shook her head.

"No bedtime." she repeated, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"No bedtime means no Christmas, and no Christmas means no pops and grams, no granny, no Liam or Elijah… no Arthi!"

"No Arthi?" Emmie whispered and I nodded.

"Also no presents…"

"Emmie like bedtime."

"Yeah?" I asked and she nodded.

"Bedtime comfy. Jojo read story?" she turned and looked at him "Pwease?"

"Of course, Emmie-bug. Every story you want!" he cooed at her and she clapped happily.

"Now chotlat for mummy!"

"Now chocolate for mummy."

"Charles?" Lizzie whispered and I turned a little, trying to make her out in the dark "I’m sorry…"

"What do you mean?" I asked, voice still hoarse from sleeping. I looked around, my eyes trying to adjust to the darkness and saw her perched against the headboard.

"For being over emotional… and unreasonable…" she said and I sat up to switch on the lamp on the night stand.

"Hey, you’re not over emotional or unreasonable!" I replied, rubbing my eyes, facing her.

"I am. The other day I cried because of a pair of socks I had to throw away since one of them had holes…"

"It was a nice pair of socks!"

"Charles…" Lizzie chuckled and I grabbed her hand, kissing her knuckles "I’m serious! I feel like I’m way worse than when I was pregnant with Emmie!"

"Yeah of course! You’re carrying twins, cara mia! Double the trouble!"

"Is that why I could eat all the damn time? I’m always hungry…" she sighed and I laughed, looking at her pouting.

"And what does my pretty girl want right now?"

"Now? Oh… umm… I’m not hungry…" she looked away and I gently grabbed her chin, turning her head.

"Lizzie… I know you… it’s 1 am that’s your time… so, what can I get for you?" I stifled a yawn.

"I’m fine… you’re tired and we’ll be picked up early…" she mumbled but I shook my head.

"Pretty girl…" I scooted closer, cupping her cheek "What do you want? Fruits? Something salty? Ice cream? A burger?"

"Some sour gums and-… it’s weird, because usually I don’t like them… salt and vinegar crisps? Do we have that?"

"On it…" I pecked her lips and shuffled out of the bed, stretching as soon as I stood up "Anything else?"

"Umm… one of these strawberry lemonades maybe?"

"Anything my pretty girl wants." I said, grabbing my sweatpants that got stuck somehow and I pulled harder almost tripping over when I finally freed it.

"Are you okay?" Lizzie looked at me and I nodded.

"It got stuck somehow… I don’t know… get comfy I’ll be right back." I slipped on my pants and left our bedroom, down the hall to the kitchen I stopped at Emmie’s bedroom and took a look inside.

Our little girl tucked in under her blankets, Arlo guarding her, sleeping right in front of her bed. He must’ve felt my presence, lifting his head looking at me. He got up, yawned and then trotted over, tilting his head.

"All good, Arlo. Just me." I whispered, kneeling down "Go watch our little princess." I stroked his fluffy fur, scratched his ears before he stretched “Ohhh big stretch! Good boy." I scratched his ears and got up "Go back to sleep…" he turned around and walked away, plopping down back at his old spot.

I rummaged through the pantry, grabbing everything Lizzie graved and trotted back to our bedroom, where a big smile spread over her face as soon as she saw me walk in.

"I can already taste the lemonade…" she made grabby hands and I laughed, handing her the can of lemonade and the crisps and sour gums.

I climbed in bed next to her, lying down and watching how she happily scrunched up her nose as soon as she ate the first sour gum, closing her eyes savouring the taste.

"Remind me to pack strawberry lemonade, salt and vinegar crisps and sour patch kids…" I yawned.

"I’m so excited for Christmas, our last without the twins… next year we’re already a family of 6…" Lizzie whispered and I cocked an eyebrow.

"6?"

"6…"

"Of course… Arlo…"

"I told you he’s our first born." Lizzie’s happy giggling made me smile and I nodded.

"You’re right. He is. And he’s an amazing big brother, guarding his little sister."

"He’s a good boy." she happily munched and I smiled, yawning again "You can sleep… you don’t have to stay awake with me…"

"Yeah?" I mumbled, fighting to keep my eyes open.

"Yeah…" Lizzie replied and leaned down, kissing my cheek "Thank you…"

"You need anything else?" I asked but she shook her head.

"No. We’re all good now. Sleep, pretty boy."

I didn’t know if I replied or not, I fell asleep almost immediately.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

An annoying ringing inside my head. But was it inside my head? I groaned and turned around, Lizzie next to me fast asleep, the ringing that definitely wasn’t just inside my head didn’t seem to bother her.

"Dada… make it stop…" Emmie rubbed her eyes, stumbling to our bed, her hair her a hot mess "Head owie!"

"I know…" I picked her up and sat her next to Lizzie "I’ll go…" I kissed her cheek and scrambled out of bed, looking for the source of the horrific sound. The door bell. And the landline phone. Both ringing at the same time. Just like my phone "What the hell?" I grabbed my phone and picked up "Hello?"

"Ah, Mr. Leclerc! Finally! I wanted to come up myself and look if everything is alright!" Matthieu, our concierge, said and the landline phone and door bell stopped ringing.

"Of course, everything’s alright? Why wouldn’t it be?" I was confused, looking around.

"There are two cars here to pick you up. They’ve been waiting for a while now and we tried to call you then-…"

"What?! But the cars should be here at 8?" I replied.

"Mr. Leclerc, it’s 8:30 am…"

"WHAT? What? How? I- what?" I checked the time at my phone and cursed "Oh shit… umm tell the drivers we’ll need a moment…"

"Can I send them up to get your bags?" Matthieu asked and I nodded.

"Yes. Everything is packed. All the bags are at the elevator…" I hastily walked back into our bedroom, pushing the buttons to open up the blinds.

"Alright. I’ll tell them." he hung up and I gently shook Lizzie.

"Cara mia? Wake up please… we need to get ready…"

"Hmm?" she mumbled, blinking a few times.

"The cars are already here… we need to get ready." I said again and her eyes shot open.

"What? But you set your alarm? What?" she scrambled up looking at Emmie next to her "Did we oversleep?"

"I don’t know. I didn’t hear the alarm. But that doesn’t matter. We need to get ready. Now. Come on." I pulled her gently off the bed and she sighed "I take care of Emmie, okay?"

"Hmm…" Lizzie mumbled and waddled away to the bathroom, yawning "Did you not set the alarm?"

"I did. I don’t know what happened…" I mumbled and picked up Emmie "Come on girlie, let’s get ready."

"Ready for Crimas!" she clapped her hands and I chuckled.

"Christmas. And no. Not quite yet. We have to get there first."

"To Christ-as?" she tried again.

"Almost, Christmas, with an 'm'… Christ- mas."

"Christ-mas." she repeated and I smiled.

"You got it right, Emmie! Good girl!" I sat her down on her bed and grabbed the clothes Lizzie had put out already "Now let’s get dressed and then we’ll have a little snack in the car, how does that sound?"

"Car?" she tilted her head, scrunching her nose.

"Yeah, we have to drive to the airport. And then we get into the jet to fly to Switzerland. To this big chalet in the mountains where all our family is waiting! To celebrate-…"

"Christmas!" she clapped excitedly and I nodded.

"Exactly! But we’re a little late. So we need to hurry up a little!"

"Houwy up! Houwy up!"

"That we have to! So let’s have a look. You look adorable, now we just need to take care of your hair and-…" I began when I saw Lizzie waddling towards the kitchen, still in her pyjamas "Alright… wait a minute…" I sat her down "You pack your sleep plushies into your backpack and play a little with Arlo, okay? I’ll be right back and make your hair." Emmie nodded and I followed Lizzie into the kitchen, finding her rummaging through the fridge "Lizzie?"

"Why is there no food?" she sniffled, turning around "I’m hungry. But there is nothing to eat. What am I supposed to do now?"

"Cara mia, we have breakfast in the jet, okay? It’s all prepared-…"

"But I’m hungry now!" she was grumpy "The babies and I are hungry now!"

"I understand, but we have nothing here, because we’re leaving now… we can stop at a bakery on the way?" I tried it again and she sighed.

"Okay… I go and take a shower…" she walked past me and I followed her.

"Cara mia, you don’t need to shower. We don’t have time. You can shower as soon as we arrive in the chalet…" I said carefully but she shook her head.

"I smell… I’m not arriving smelly for Christmas…"

"Technically it’s not Christmas yet, so… and also you don’t smell… you just had a bath last night and I can still smell your coconut butter on your skin, so please. Just get dressed and let’s go. The cars are waiting. For over half an hour now…"

"Then why didn’t you set the alarm?" she looked at me annoyed.

"I did! I don’t know why it didn’t went off! Stupid alarm clock…" I walked over to my night stand to find the alarm clock to be off, not plugged into the wall "What the… oh no… my sweatpants… fuck…" I mumbled, remembering the struggle I had at night with my pants "With my phone this wouldn’t have happen…" I groaned more to myself when a half naked Lizzie stepped out of the closet.

"What did you say?" she cocked an eyebrow and I held my hands up "Is it my fault now for protecting our babies? Last night you said I was the best mum because of it!" her bottom lip began to wobble and I hastily pulled her into me.

"And I meant it! Okay? It’s all good. Just-… please get ready. I feel bad for the drivers to wait this long because of me… and the jet and everything…" I whispered against the side of her head, kissing her temple.

"Okay. I’m almost done…" she breathed out "You need to get dressed yourself…"

"On it…"

15 minutes later I strapped Emmie into her seat and gave the driver the all clear to drive, although I had a feeling like we forgot something at home. I was nervously fidgeting with my phone next to Lizzie who happily munched on the croissant I got her from the bakery.

"What is it?" she asked after another minute of me nervously tapping my foot.

"I feel like we forgot something…" I mumbled, going over the list inside my head "I just don’t know what…"

"It can’t be important if you don’t remember it."

"I don’t know…" I looked outside the window, the car approaching the little private airport.

We had all of the bags, there was nothing left when we left the penthouse. I checked Emmie’s backpack and she had packed all her night plushies. Arlo laid on the floor in front of me, his bag with his toys and leashes in the back. Lizzie packer her bag with her books and computer last night herself and it rested now next to her on the seat. The bag with her snacks on the floor next to my feet. I couldn’t grasp what was missing but still I felt like it.

"Charles?" Lizzie grabbed my hand, squeezing it "We’ve got everything. It’s fine, you’ll see…"

"Yeah… I hope so…" I mumbled watching the car in front with our baggage stopping on the tarmac "It’s too late now anyways I guess…" I unbuckled Emmie and got out of the car, taking her with me. I helped Lizzie out of the car and she took Emmie from me, walking with Arlo towards the jet while I helped loading our baggage onto the cart, before I walked up the stairs of the jet myself.

"Welcome on board, Mr. Leclerc." the pilot shook my hand and I smiled.

"Thank you, and sorry for the delay… it got a little hectic this morning…"

"All good, Sir. Why don’t you take a seat and we’re preparing for take off."

"Thank you." I took off my jacket, handing it to the flight attendant who stored it away.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" she smiled and I shook my head, sitting down on front off Lizzie, Emmie next to her on the seat, looking outside the window.

I leaned my head back. Closing my eyes. One last time going over the list in my head. One last time going over every piece of baggage we just unloaded from the car. Lizzie’s suitcases, my suitcases, Emmie’s suitcases, the bags full off her and Arlo’s toys, the bags full of presents. The bag with Lizzie’s snacks and last but not least the 2 suitcases and backpack of…

"JORIS!" I shouted, Lizzie and Emmie both looking at me "WE FORGOT JORIS!" I took my phone out, about to call him when he already did the same.

"Jo-…"

"I can’t believe you forgot me at home…"

"I swear-…"

"Like seriously? What is this? Home alone? Your alarm doesn’t go off and you forget me in all the hectic?"

"I’m so sorry! I send the ca-…"

"Just be glad it’s more like Home Alone 2. I woke up by myself and-…" he hung up "And got in the car right in time… I just wanted to wait how long it would take you to figure out that I wasn’t with you…" Joris walked inside the jet, plopping down in the seat next to us.

"I’m so so sorry!" I looked at him sheepishly and Emmie climbed off her seat, walking over to Joris who picked her up, sitting her down in his lap.

"Jojo made Emmie hair look nice." she smiled and I looked at her, then at him.

"What?" I said and looked at Lizzie "I thought you did that?"

"I thought you did?" she replied and Joris laughed.

"Nope, I did, right Emmie bug?" he cooed at her and she smiled "And now that we’re all here… I say let’s go. Christmas is just right around the corner…"

"Christmas with pesents! Pesents for evyone!" Emmie said excited, clapping her hands "Mewwy Christmas evyone!"

🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄

I hope you enjoyed this (not so) little something and I hope you all had amazing Holidays!

Taglist: (If you don’t like to be tagged for this, let me know)

@itsjustkhaos @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @silkenthusiasts @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @shimmermotorsport @janeh22 @kahhorri @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09 @fangirlforever2000



[slytherinshua]

⟡　MY JEWEL 　( 휴닝카이 )

genre royalty au , forbidden romance , fluff , servant!fem!reader x prince!kai   cw not proofread   wc 787   request @jihyokat for kai + gleaming gemstones for the 3k event   note this fic being the first event one kinda broke my writers block id say??? it's been a while since i've even touched my google docs and written a sentence, but this was super fun to write and these tropes are always some of my favs to work with hehe. i hope you enjoy lexi!!   net @kstrucknet @moadiarynet

You were no princess. Growing up in poverty, you were always detached from high society and royalty. Riches, luxury, exquisite food and elegant clothing— all were foreign to you. But it changed when you were hired by the royal palace as a maid and ran into Kai almost immediately by accident. 

Being so unused to the winding hallways of the castle that seemed to never end, you quite easily got lost on your first day at the job. What was supposed to be a simple task of delivering a basket of fresh fruit to the kitchens turned into a 30 minute tour of random halls on probably the opposite side of the palace. How else would you have ended up in the prince’s quarters?

Despite your rocky start, you seemed to have extraordinary luck that day, running into the prince himself who found the whole ordeal quite amusing (and you, quite adorable). Prince Kai kindly offered to show you the way to the kitchens, and anywhere else in the palace until you memorized the routes yourself. And you, eager to not endure the same embarrassment again, took him up on it. 

Not a single thought crossed your mind on how inappropriate such a thing might be, talking and walking casually with royalty so soon. Kai didn’t seem to mind, and you didn’t begin to question it until much, much later. Six months to be exact. After that first meeting, you had gotten quite close with the young prince. It was only when you started to feel strange fluttery feelings whenever you were around him that you realized just how bad the situation was.

You were staff. Kai was legions ahead of you in status. Not even taking into consideration the opinion of the public, just by maintaining a relationship with him, you were certainly breaking basic code of conduct. There was no future with him to be seen, whether as a friend or lover. So, you decided it would be best to cut it off before it became more painful.

Unfortunately, you were already in too deep. So was Kai.

“It’s a gift,” Kai explained quietly. “For you,” he added as clarification, as if it wasn’t already obvious. It shouldn’t have been, given the circumstances. 

It was late in the night and Kai had summoned you to his chambers. Privately, of course. He knew the repercussions you might face if people found out, and he was mindful of that. You were grateful for his precautions, although in the back of your mind you were on edge by all of it. How beautiful Kai looked, moonlight shining across his face. The delicate silver necklace with a shining precious sapphire set in the middle of it resting in the palm of his hand. The way your heart was thumping in your chest, the urge to fall into his arms getting stronger by the second.

How much you loved him was dangerously growing each day. Your mind reminded you of how little hope there was to be with him, but your heart did not care. You were sane away from him, but as soon as he was in front of you, no thought or reason reached you. Your heart behaved autonomously, and Kai directed every decision it made.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, truly mesmerised at the sight of the gem. It almost glowed with its clarity, and you could see the light of the moon reflected off of its polished edges. Kai moved closer, wrapping the chain loosely around your neck. He carefully fastened it, securing the precious stone to its rightful place: decorating your neck. 

“There. Just as I thought. You look stunning, Y/n,” he said earnestly, taking a hold of your hands. The warmth of his palms made your heart jump, and his words gave you feeble hope.

“I love you.”

You had said it before, and you decided you would say it again. A million times over if you could. No matter how wrong. No matter how forbidden, or unheard of. You were uttering those words to the prince of the nation. You. No one else. And that gave you a sense of belonging that only Kai could bring out of you.

As long as he trusted your place by his side, why should you let the arbitrary rules of the world tell you otherwise? He was the only thing that mattered, and you would only take his thoughts into consideration.

For once, you fully accepted the flurry of feelings; the connection between you and Kai that was so unexpected but felt so right. Your hearts beating in sync, fully devoted to one another. 

He was your jewel, and he shined his brightest only for you. 

txt taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @90steele,, @ddeonudepressions,, @cham3li,,

@wolfmoonmusic,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,,

@amara-mars,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,, @sobun1est,,

@bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @sxmmerberries,, @talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,,

@cupidslovearrows,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @stannwjnss,, @gong-fourz,,

@nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny,, @stantxtforabetterlife,, @loserlvrss,, @lexeees

[sapphanimates]

SapphAnimates Art Recap 2024!

Calling it a little bit early, but here's a quick recap of my art progress for the year ^^

JANUARY

My Alacrity AU designs for Team Chaotix! Espio was one of the new designs I was most proud of at the time (despite the fact I ended up slightly modifying it later on). Hence why I chose him to represent January!

FEBUARY

THIS IS IT. THE ORIGINS OF SASHA. A Sonadow fankid I originally made just for shits and giggles, as many other creators were making them at the time, has slowly evolved over the year to become a pseudo-face for the blog! I wouldn't be where I am right now if you guys hadn't loved her as much as I do, and I'm super grateful for all of your support! Stay tuned for more Doom's Child AU news!

MARCH

Warrior Cats designs! These are some Medicine Cat/Healer designs for fun, though it did push me into a short era of drawing a lot of warriors stuff. I think most of my March was dedicated to Warriors content, actually...

APRIL

I like garten of banban. I needed to share my concept for a darker, psychological horror type of banban story, with a hint of infection au in there as well. please forgive me.

MAY

The end of the Sasha's run in the Sonic Fankid Showdown hosted by @head---ache . She didn't last very long, but the support behind our campaign was insane. Same goes for Zayne's run in the second Showdown. Thank you all so much!

JUNE

I did a "Six Fanarts" Challenge, featuring a mix of Warriors and Sonic characters, this one in particular featuring Sonic, Tails, Shadow, Tangle, Yellowfang, and Breezepelt. Shadow was my favorite from the group, with the bright yellow moon in the background and new Doom Wings (the Doom Powers were recently announced at the time).

JULY

Drew some of the horror adjacent Tails designs from some of the zones in my Project Alacrity AU. Ojo, Maggie, and Tailtrap playing Operation together and failing miserably at it :]

AUGUST

Some scrapped art from an animated shorts compilation video I posted on my YouTube Channel! It features some of the main characters, namely Fallen Leaves from Warriors, a Floragato from Pokémon, and a Mimic and Blarret from My Singing Monsters. Please go check out the video if you haven't yet!

SEPTEMBER

September means school, and school means teachers. And I've never met a more wackjob teacher than my current Chemistry teacher. This picture was one I did as a "Get to Know You" project on the first day of school. Labcoat Sapph.

OCTOBER

My first self assigned school art project, and a photography one! A multimedia picnic, a clay frog, a paper doll coati, and a portrait of a ghostly cat-woman, all sharing a lovely shoo-fly pie. Each character was created in a different medium, and the final photo was taken in my grandmother's backyard.

NOVEMBER

Part of a community challenge spurred by @yourpalsalamander . Asha in Wonderland needed a high af caterpillar, and who better to fill the role than Sasha. Just uh... don't touch her shrooms.

DECEMBER

Mlp horror AUs have had a small comeback lately, mostly on TikTok, but I wanted to throw my hat in the ring and create new evil versions of the entire Mane 6. I haven't come up with a design and concept for Rarity yet, but I've had a great time developing the rest of them! I'd love to turn it into a video series if you guys are interested in hearing my thoughts.

See you all next year! Template is by @zontarzon

[rafecameronsversion]

bright beverly hills || r.c

summary : kooks bully you at a party, and rafe reassures you.

warnings : bullying, discrimination, cursing, use of y/n, feminine descriptions.

i'm unsure if this is any good 🥸 i feel like i rushed it a lot. but hope u likey

rafe and i were two sides of the same coin, opposite but inseparable. he grew up in a silver spoon gated community, everything was served to him in a silver platter. a bubble-wrapped future, footsteps for him ready to follow.

while i was having candle-lit dinners at the cut, he had them in fancy michelin star restaurants. rafe had a cold exterior when it came to other people; to protect himself. however, when it came to me, he was the most caring boy.

clandestine meetings at the age of 12, his father would berate him for hanging out with a "pogue" like me, but he couldn't let him take away the one thing that brought him peace. we were best friends, eventually becoming more with lingering touches and longing glances.

he became a honorable part of my humble family, sometimes being invited over to our most simple of dinners, dancing in the living room late night swims in the beach.

it was friday night in outer banks, a party in full swing. this house belonged to topper. i was clinging to rafe's arm, feeling out of place. the tension in the air was palpable. i had debated that i didn't want to go here, knowing i would feel singled out and small.

this place yelled every single thing that was different between us two. the glistening chandeliers, polished floors, and snobby laughs coming from kooks who have never worked a day in their lives.

rafe smiles, looking at me. "i'll grab us some drinks real quick, alright baby?" he spoke, a gentle tone in his voice that was reserved only for me. i hesitated, not wanting to be left alone in this damned place. but i nodded, i couldn't be the one to hold him back, especially in his world. glamorous, shining, bright beverly hills.

he turned around, getting lost in the crowd of super rich kids. i stood in a less crowded corner, trying to attract the least attention, and it seemed to have worked.

three girls nearby were whispering among the other, yet they were louder than they realized.

"could you believe rafe cameron brought that girl here?" the blonde one scoffed, jealously reeked out of her mouth. the other two agreed, chiming in.

"must be hard living on the cut, always desperate to climb their way out." another one insinuated. i couldn't help but scoff at the idea, my heart was heavy and i couldn't bare being here. the bimbo chimed in, a confused look on her face.

"you really think she slept her way to be his girlfriend? i don't think even cameron would allow that..." she spoke, eyes wide. the blone one rolled her eyes. "well, even the richest men can still think with their dicks, jessica." she was an absolute mean girl, and her tone displayed it perfectly.

i felt like the walls were moving in on me, it was all too much. this place was too much. i quietly turned away, going outside by the porch where no one seemed to stay. i breathed in the fresh air, fidgeting.

soon after, rafe had found where i was. he looked at me fondly, a soft smile on his face. "hey... there you are. i thought i lost you in there." he said, rubbing his hand over my shoulder. i exhaled sharply.

"why am i here, rafe?" i questioned, my voice was low as i stood against the railing of the front porch of toppers' home, that was as big as the living room of my family's house. rafe looked at me confused.

"what do you mean, baby?" he asked, a soft and confused look in his eyes.

i laughed out a scoff, a bitter tone. "i don't belong here, rafe. your world... this mansion, these people." i paused, unsure how to continue. "i grew up on the cut, these people do nothing but look down at us. i can't be here rafe, i can't be in this world."

rafe's jaw tightened, looking away for a second before looking back at me. "you know that's not fair" he spoke, his voice on the edge.

"what's not fair is you pushing to bring me here! i don't have any of the things the girls here have. you'd be better off with someone from your world..." i spoke, my voice breaking a little from frustration.

rafe's eyes softened, he moved closer toward me. "baby..."

"don't you see how different we are? your world is all polished floors and bright chandeliers. mine is messy and chaotic." i spoke softly, afraid my voice will betray me.

he reached out, grabbing both hands and bringing them closer to him. "listen, i didn't bring you here to make you feel small. i don't want these girls, they can all go fuck themselves! i love you, and i love that we're different." he spoke softly, kissing the knuckles of my hands.

"none of this matters to me, baby. it doesn't mean anything if i don't have you." rafe spoke, his blue eyes warm.

i searched his face, looking into his eyes. i want to believe him yet doubt lingered in the back of my head. "you say that now..."

"but what happens when your friends remind you of who i am? when your dad tells you i'm not good enough." my voice was below a whisper, afraid of the possibilities of this relationship we had.

rafe held me by my shoulders, "i don't care. i'm done caring what they think. i want you, and the messy and chaotic world you've shown me." he said, leaning in and kissing my forehead.

"i don't need this world. i want the one where you showed me it's okay to be real, that it's okay to feel." he says softly, looking deeply into my eyes.

the way he looked at me so gently, so genuine. i felt as if i could cry. i attacked him in a hug, my arms wrapped around his torso.

"its just... those girls get under my skin. kept talking about how i slept my way out of the cut." i admitted quietly, my head still against his chest.

rafe shakes his head, hugging me back. "never ever let them get to you. they're just pissed." he pulled back to look at me, smiling. he pressed his lips onto mine, for a short and delicate kiss. "how about we just get out of here?" he said, a cheeky smile on his face.

i laughed, nodding my head yes. "i'd like that so much. please." he grinned, putting my hand in his as he guided us out of this place.

[onehundredelevven]

Hi! Can I pretty please with cherries and sprinkles on top request an angsty/bittersweet TojixReader fic?

I don't have anything super specific in mind for the plot but some tropes that might be good could be "I can't be with you", where one realizes that they can't give the other what they want, or "missed opportunity" where they have a chance to get together but they don't for whatever terrible reason.

Even if you don't, I just wanna say I love your work and thanks for taking the time to read this ❤️ Hope you have a great day!

Hello Anon! Thank you for the kind words(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡ and here's your req !

Fractured Futures.

Toji x reader

cw: nothing, just angst♡

☆☆☆

The rain was relentless, soaking through your coat as you stood in the alleyway, waiting. You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t do this again—meet him in the shadows, hang on to the thin thread of something that barely resembled love. But when Toji called, his voice low and unreadable, you came anyway.

He was leaning against the brick wall, a cigarette dangling from his lips, the ember glowing faintly in the dim light.

“You’re late,” he said, not unkindly, as you approached.

“Maybe I didn’t want to come,” you shot back, your voice sharper than you intended.

Toji chuckled, the sound bitter and hollow. “But you did.”

You hated that he was right. Hated the way he could always see through you, even when you couldn’t see through him.

“Why did you call me, Toji?” you asked, crossing your arms to ward off the chill.

He took a slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke into the damp air. “Wanted to see you,” he said simply.

“That’s not an answer.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the ground. When he finally looked up, there was something raw in his eyes—something you weren’t sure you wanted to face.

“You deserve better than this,” he said quietly.

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking into your chest. “Don’t do this,” you whispered.

“It’s the truth,” he continued, his voice steady but laced with regret. “I can’t give you what you want. Hell, I can’t even give you what you need.”

“I never asked you to—”

“To stay?” he cut you off, his tone sharp. “To be something I’m not? You didn’t have to ask, sweetheart. I know you.”

You clenched your fists, the ache in your chest threatening to break you. “So that’s it? You’ve decided for both of us?”

Toji stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, close enough that you could see the faint scars lining his jaw. He reached out, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face, his touch achingly gentle.

“I’m not a good man,” he said, his voice softer now. “You think I don’t want this? Don’t want you? But if I stay…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “If I stay, you’ll get hurt. And I can’t live with that.”

Tears blurred your vision, but you refused to let them fall. “You’re hurting me now.”

He flinched, the words striking deeper than you’d expected. For a moment, you thought he might stay, might take back everything he’d said.

But then he stepped back, his hand falling away from your face.

“Maybe one day,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But not now.”

You wanted to scream, to tell him that one day wasn’t enough, that you didn’t care about the risks. But all you could do was watch as he turned and walked away, the rain washing away the faint scent of cigarette smoke he left behind.

You stood there for what felt like hours, the weight of his absence pressing down on you. Hard.

Maybe one day.

[porcelainmortal]

2024 Fic Writing Roundup

This is so fun!! Thanks for the tags, @cha-melodius @firenati0n, @onthewaytosomewhere, and the open tag @caterpills.

Getting to this late because I wanted to wait until my final fic of the year went live. I posted fics every month except January, which I'm super proud of. I've posted 27 fics (86 if you count ficlets and drabbles separately) with a total word count of 218,348, which is INSANE to me!! Especially knowing how many unfinished WIPs curently live on my Drive (around 80k worth) 🫣 AND the fact that before joining this fandom, I hadn't written much in many, many years.

So let's dive in!

JANUARY

busy writing but no posting!

FEBRUARY

a valentine for Alex (rated E | 1,968 words) post-canon Valentine's Day smut with lots of feelings when the curtains call the time (rated E | 27,916 words) angsty college au exes-to-lovers (no, not that one) with a bit of a love triangle being enough (rated T | 551 words) post-canon conversation re: Alex's bisexuality and Henry's insecurity handy for a handyman (rated E | 6,329 words) handyman!Alex part 1 - Alex is working construction at Henry's brownstone; Henry panics when he sees Alex shirtless and wishes he would pound something aside from the carpet

MARCH

a brit in Brooklyn (rated E | 6,689 words) handyman!Alex part 2 - Alex and Henry go on their first real date, feelings move in it happened on a lake (rated E | 18,967 words) Alex is at the family lake house, Henry is renting the house across the cove; when David assists in a meet cute, sparks fly - but how can a vacation fling possibly last??

APRIL

falling in a 5+1 (rated E | 10,600 words) handyman!Alex part 3 - five times Alex is unsure how Henry feels about him, and one time he knows the song of alex & henry (rated T | 1,062 words) firstprince reads TSOA; lots of feelings ensue

MAY

why do you call me baby? (rated M | 3,625 words) Alex figures out he's bi, decides to sow his wild oats, and meets Henry, who swiftly ruins all his plans Vegas, Baby (rated M | 12,735 words) Alex and Henry meet in Vegas, get drunk, and get married! Small complication: Henry lives in London and doesn't even know Alex.

JUNE

move your body (rated E | 2,500 words) post-canon dancing and smut inspired by the song "Lube" by Adam Lambert (I blame the Discord server) Saturdays are for the boys (rated E | 1,813 words) more post-canon smut, posted as the fandom's 10,000th fic! find me here and speak to me (rated E | 13,131 words) Alex is happily married when he meets his soulmate Henry Friday, i'm in love (rated E | ficlets) a collection of ficlets from Ficlet Fridays - 23 in total posted between June and September.

JULY

perineyum (rated E | 2,500 words) Alex tricks Henry into trying a stupid wellness trend; the result is introspective rimming, outdoors edition

AUGUST

take my hand and let it spin (rated T | 1,000 words) a collection of drabbles - 10 in total - written for Tumblr prompts! right here, right now (rated E | 3,333 words) a night out dancing with a coworker/friend turns into a bisexual speed run and fun, playful smut the bartender and the blond (rated M | 9,999 words) slow burn romance

SEPTEMBER

i'm known for giving love away (rated E | 16,866 words) shy, sheltered Henry celebrates his 25th birthday with a visit to the strip club and best friend/wingman ever Pez buys him a lap dance with Alex Claremont-Diaz, part-time stripper and full-time law student cool for the summer (rated M | 1,500 words) drinking + teasing = relationship

OCTOBER

Freaktober (rated E | 14,475 words) my version of Kinktober with a Halloween twist! 20 smutty fics over 25 days. WHEW!! faith, trust, and pixie dust (rated M | 5,810 words) when Alex convinces his roommate Henry to dress in a couples' costume for the annual Okonjo Foundation Fundraising Gala, love confessions are inevitable

NOVEMBER

mad love. (rated E | 31,313) college au, exes-to-lovers angstfest with a happily ever after and a yummy topping of smut (including bottom Alex!) smutsgiving 2024 (rated E | 100 word drabble) a smutty drabble that's mostly feelings

DECEMBER

wrapped up in music & lyrics (rated M | 1,000 words) Spotify Wrapped drabbles, lots of angst and sadness, all canon-compliant, 10 in total what if we just fall? (rated E | 4,565 words) Alex and Henry are roommates who occasionally share a bed and apparently, feelings for each other... it's a smutfest, folks wrapped in red (rated M | 4,029 words) post-canon Christmas vignettes through the boys' first ten years together

A MASSIVE thank you to everyone who read, kudos'd commented, reblogged, etc. - all of that interaction kept me going. This year was hard and I only made it through bc of this fandom and all my new friends. ILY all. 💕

An open tag as always, but also tagging below the cut!!

@anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517 @cricketnationrise @faketrex

@freyjaexplores @getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @iboatedhere @inexplicablymine

@kiwiana-writes @littlemisskittentoes @myheartalivewrites @nocoastposts @priincebutt

@rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow @tailsbeth-writes @thesleepyskipper

@theprinceandagcd @thighzp @whimsymanaged @wordsofhoneydew

HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL OF YOU!! ✨

[ii-meeple-confessions]

I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT THIS SO IM PUTTING IT HERE UGHHH: So. In Season 3 (and kind of in late season 2) (and just in general actually) Mephone showcases a lot of self-deprecating habits, making jokes at his expense, and. The thing that gets me the most is. He genuinely believes he can't make good art.

LIKE. Okay, take the HUGE twist into account of Mephone creating the contestants and everything on the show essentially... And then look at, for example, S3 E9 "Title TBD" where one of the biggest points of the video is that Machines (AI) don't usually make the best art....... Like, both of the movies that each team made using the Animation Machine turned out horribly. Why, Mephone? Is this subconscious shitting on yourself?!??!?!?!?? IM SORRY?? "AI cant make good art" and the robot that made the entire show is AI. IGNORING BOT'S PRESENCE HERE TOO. (they also call it a 'nightmare fuel generator' sorry mephone i think that reflects on you too)

Also... The entirety of S3 E17 "The Show Must Go On" oh my GOD... He talks about how much time and effort and care he puts into his episodes, and visibly when he tries to rush it and force his contestants to make a TON of episodes in 5 hours it uh. Doesn't go to plan. And during it he literally asks them, "Will you miss your time on this show?" And. No one. Responds. Another moment is when Balloon says "Theres a fine line between engaging entertainment and commodified content consumed by customers, and I think you've just crossed it, Mephone!" And the.... the meeple parallels... ouch. How Mephone is straying into the same waters Meeple does, by rushing things out and not caring for the quality of the craft............ The future is so yesterday, isn't it?

Also walkie talkie..... walkie talkieeee "We don't NEED writers OR contestants! We just need REVOLUTIONARY TECHOLOGY!" I feel like. All of this is, in retrospect, mephone wondering if his own art is good enough and debating on if technology even can make good art. I imagine cobs wasn't so supportive of his creative endevours back at Meeple, Maybe, at some point, Mephone heard that same sentiment... from cobs. Ouch.

But the end result of both of these episodes is that... The Animation Machine fails to make good art. The Machine, the AI, fails. It doesn't have what people have in making art-- It's just a soulless machine. And I think that's Mephones subconscious. He doesn't think he can make good art. Or at least, still remembers cobs discouraging words, and takes them to heart even still.

HE LITERALLY SAYS "A Machine can't make art" IM LOSING MY MIND HERE ACTUALLY. "But Mephone, you're a machine!" "My point exactly." IM SORRY!??!?! Okay maybe this digging was all for not it's actually RIGHT THERE spelled out for you, but nonetheless I like the subtle hints towards the end message. Mephone's pretty damn self-deprecating. And he believes he cant make good art. And that hurts me even more after the reveal, because he probably won't ever be able to make art again, not without considering the harm he's caused.

That hurts. Such a comforting thing to him in his youth becoming one of the things that reminds him of the harm he's caused and the harm thats been done to him. OUCH. OUCH!!!!! Sorry this was so long. I couldnt stop thinking about this and i needed to get it out AGHH -2G Anon

GAAAAAAHHGHDEHDXDJWDXJDWXS THIS IS SUUCH SUCH SCUH A GOOD DETAIL I DON’T THINK ANTONE HAS POINTED OUT YET. I’M GONNA KILL YOU (AND I MEAN THAT IN THE BEST MOST POSITIVE WAY IMAGINABLE)

BUUEUFUGHGH I DON’T WVEN WANNA SAY ANYTHING CAUSE I DON’T WANNA TAKE AWAY FROM THIS SUPER GOOD ANALYSIS. EVERYONE READ THIS ASK NOOOWWWWW!!! NOWWW!!!!