#wrote this because i have cookie crumbs of an idea

[08luvmailz]

⌨︎ ⁩◞ HERO FANBOY — ! ❪shoto todoroki❫

SYNOPSIS ୨୧ ! which a certain hero from ua crushes (hard) on a idol ! headcanon, ooc shoto

FANBOY SHOTO! He wasn't interested in kpop activities, heck he hardly known anything about kpop in general.

He started knowing about them because of his brother natsuo who bought a heck ton of albums and blasting music in his room.

He side-eye his brother when he's screaming because he got your WINK-PHOTOCARD, as he keep screaming " omg! ITS SO SPARKS "

he saw the photocard and he was like " oh she's pretty " but disregard it afterwards BUTT

DIDNT KNOW HE WOULD FELL THAT HARD

he saw one of your recent comebacks on tv because his brother is streaming it and gahdam ur fucking SPARKLING ON STAGE.

At first he started knowing your group, YOU FIRST then streaming your group songs, your debut solo, collabs. streaming your group shows and music bank AND ALL THOSE

started buying albums too with natsuo. FINALLY HE HAVE SOMEONE IN THE FAMILY WHO WILL BE IN DEPT FOR LIFE BUYING ALBUMS

Natsuo asked who is his bias without hesitation he said your name, bro was smirking so bad at his lil bro BECAUSE YOU ARE THE MAKNAE OF YOUR GROUP, also half japanese and same age as him.

Bro was blushing whenever the camera pans at your face and smirking and doing that HE WAS GETTING HOTTER THAN HIS QUIRK

have a well known kpop stan twitter account who always make short comment about you but ICONIC because of how pure and sweet it is

doesnt know it but actually fell inlove with you NOT BECAUSE OF UR FACE (its a plus on him) but because of your determination and hard work, humour and personality is just CHEFS KISS

no one knows about his obsession welp it almost slip up when he accidently unplug his wired earphones to his phone AND SUDDENLY BLASTING Nobody knows by your group.

he lied he is just a casual listener

defends you on twitter, he looks like a soft boy but damn he is a beast on roasting BUT FAILS CAUSE HE CAN ONLY CUSS AT THEM

dedicated to buy front row tickets when your group finally have a concert there at your hometown

BRO WAS FIGHTING FOR LIFE AT THE POOR CONNECTION

bro brought the vip tickets for him and his big bro (with his dads money ofc, not like his father would know)

bro brought the 2 tickets for each day

won a fancall with you once but DAMN IT HIS HERO STUFF IS GETTING ON THE WAY

poor bby sulked the whole day that he missed the call, he was practicing his lines and tone for you

brought many batteries for his lightstick

make sure he is lookin good (not like he isn't good looking)

bro wake up early asf he want to be there as fast

bro became popular fan after one pictured him as the guy from the (group name) concert at jpn

he didnt know he bacame popular, he just saw his face 3 days after the concert on stan twt

BRO WHEN YOU TWO MAKE EYE CONTACT HE HAS HEART EYES

BRO WAS WHIPPED ASF

you are one stubborn fuck saw this cute guy with a scar and went through the barricades even though security was trying to get you back in stage cause its just a sound check and your safety too

Bro you came closer to him and saw his instax reaching for you. MADE A HEART CHEEK AT HIS FACE AND CAME CLOSER TO HIS FACE

bro almost want to faint right then and there.

you went after that he was kinda sad but happy he got a selfie WITH HIM

making this his lockscreen and making a frame of this treasured photo

You kept stealing glances at him and interacting with hand language, asking if he already eat lunch or just blantly flirting with him

LUCKIEST FAN

natsuo kept pushing his shoulders for every interaction at their section BUT MAINLY YOU ARE FOCUSED ON HIS BROTHER

bro when he came back from school BRO WAS BOMBARDED WITH QUESTIONS LIKE

" I DIDNT KNOW UR A FAN TODOROKI! " " WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME UR A FAN, I WANT TO BUY TICKETS TOO " " i didn't know todoroki listens to kpop " "BRO DID U HAVE PICS AND VID OF (your leader name) "

was now known as poker face but listens to puppy love by (groupname)

After that twt post of him being a handsome fan THEN PEOPLE STARTED SAYING HE WAS THE KID FROM UA, ENDEAVOR SON AND ALL THOSE SHIT

have an article of him now being the hero fan boy

boy he didnt give a shit about them, he just wanting to chill

but that didnt start there

your member posted on weverse a video of you taken, watching the sports festival and chanting HIS NAME AND BETTING THAT HE WOULD 1st PLACE

bro became the luckiest fan alive

saying he is the luckiest fan and hero and all of those then actually GONNA MEET YOU

you have a campaign like a collab with a hero AND THAT IS HIS DAD

participating on a event JUST TO SEE YOU

he did and boy was he nervous

he kept stuttering at the end of his sentence

then because actually friend with you, a little bit touchy side BUT HE IS A GENTELEMAN just subtle glances and touches

got your number and him posting a selfie of you two on twt (he made another acc just to post boast that picture)

after that he was well known as the hero fanboy who will soon in the future marry his idol

that woud be a story in another time <3

[luvnami]

i genuinely don't know what overcame me when i wrote this. but here, have modern!au sanemi baking with reader. hopefully you think it's funny, because i'll feel less braindead

baking together is not romantic. the idea itself is cute. execution of said idea, however, leaves much to be desired. 

“sanemi,” you begin, because names are always a good place to start, “this tastes like ass.”

before you is a comically flat loaf of bread. the crumb is incredibly dense (if it can even be called a crumb at all), the crust is as hard as a rock, and you’re pretty sure the yeast packet you used was expired.

you don’t know why you thought that baking bread was an easy process, considering that both you and shinazugawa are amateur bakers. you know how to cook, sure. baking, on the other hand, comparatively seems like rocket science. 

shinazugawa stares at the fruit of his labour on the kitchen counter. he raps his knuckles on the crust once, then twice. it sounds like he’s knocking on a brick. 

“jesus fucking christ,” he mutters. 

his arms are sore from kneading the dough. you had quickly grown tired of it, learning that reaching that perfect ‘gluten window’ was harder than it seemed, so you left it to your boyfriend with his big, strong biceps. surely all those hours in the gym must amount to something, right? it also gave you an excuse to gawk at him, in your extra pink apron and his forearms flexing with each knead. 

your apartment’s kitchen is now littered with baking utensils. you’ll find flour in the strangest places for the next two months, but that’s a problem for future you to deal with.

“well, that was a bust. what do we do with this?” you sigh, crossing your arms. 

shinazugawa sucks on his teeth. he was planning to make something edible for dinner out of the bread, but that’s clearly out of the question now. 

“fuck this. we’re getting takeout. we can feed the bread to, i don’t know, the pigeons at the park.”

“the pigeons? what if they choke and die! babe, this isn’t even bread. it’s an abomination.”

“fuck the pigeons.”

you gawk at shinazugawa. he’s serious. he’s going to feed the pigeons your failed gluten creation and newsflash: you’re getting arrested for killing the pigeon population at your local park. it’s a life sentence. you’ll never make it out alive. even if you do, the pigeons will send their strongest army to peck you to death. 

“babe! the pigeons! you can’t just say that!” you cry out. 

you lunge at shinazugawa and start weakly beating at his chest. he snorts. okay, maybe don’t fuck the pigeons. he catches you and squeezes you tight against him, ignoring your appeals to him to maybe care about the birds a bit more (he could give less of a fuck about them, though. damned things had a knack for assaulting him for his snacks). 

you’re both covered in flour, wearing matching aprons, and you’re all pressed up against him. next time, maybe you’ll start with cookies first. shinazugawa makes a mental note of that. 

“c’mon, we’ll order your favourite.”

your eyes sparkle. you momentarily forget about the pigeons. 

“really?”

shinazugawa melts a little when you look up at him, eyes wide and expectant. how can he say no? thank god for failed bread and stray birds. 

he kisses your forehead.

“of course.”

[skyrigel]

Hey Rigel I love ur work like so much 💓 can I request Anthony bridgerton where he is getting married and realises his love his y/n or smth similar with him getting jealous and angry when y/n and Benedict or colin fake date like tht or anything if this doesn't make sense 😭

Enchanted | A.B x you

Pairing: Anthony bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict x fem!reader x colin ( platonic) wc - 3.8k

Synopsis: When Aubreyton's CEO strikes a match with Miss Edwina sharma, because she's nice and kind and witty, ofcourse nothing could go wrong, except you have feelings for Anthony.

Warning :CEO! Anthony x assistant! reader, Asshole! Anthony, Benedict x sophie, Polin, bridgerton's chaotic dynamic, reader and Benedict share one brain cell that's mostly with you, alcohol, fake marriage( Anthony and reader), social media au, office au, modern setting, forced proximity, jealousy jealousy, mutual pinning, fluffy fluff, bit angst, arranged marriage, bit Collen Hoover bashing but it's a joke ( maybe not ) no Edwina bashing, scary Kate sharma, yes!!! ( Might add more later )

" Your brother is an idiot." You said, gritting your teeth as your mail blew with applicants, beautiful young ladies with peculiar yet remarkable talents.

" That." Benedict catched the grape midair with his mouth," we know of." He added with a cocky grin.

" Read another ! " Colin peppered, stealing your cookies which you ignored, sighing as you opened another mail.

" Tiana Young, twenty-one, I like to read, write and sing, my favourite author is Collen Hoover—" Benedict snorted, " —I like children and hope to be a mother, I am very soft spoken and good natured, my neighbours call me Ti, because I am a tea kinda person—"

" What's a tea kinda person ? " Colin bited the smuggled cookie, Benedict pulled the remaining to his side hastily, you felt your appetite long gone.

" It's like...they are like tea..." Benedict said, more in doubt as he looked for affirmation.

" Like milk tea or another tea ? " You asked, perhaps tea could takeaway your headache.

" What's an another tea ? " Colin's hand began to pull the tray, Benedict frowned but said nothing, taking one hurriedly and breaking it into two parts, offering you the bigger one.

" No thank-you, let me fix this Tiana's appointment." You exhaled, copy pasting a paragraph how (un) grateful you were to her for reaching out, she would soon have her appointment date and bla bla bla.

" I knew my brother was workholic but this wife hunting thingy is so exhausting." Benedict wiggled his eyebrows, you knew he was being kind but he wasn't helping at all.

" It would have been over if his requirements weren't so high, like he's not looking for a wife but some utopian woman god has yet to create ! " You were ranting, you knew, but this was the only way you could stop yourself from punching Anthony for putting you into this misery.

" Why can't he just fall in love ? " Colin looked at you and Benedict seriously, his mouth covered in crumbs, " Come on, love is like...like a force to be reckoned with ! " He beamed, ofcourse it was a force, didn't Penelope wrote something smiliary in her latest book, you somehow felt your heart shuddering, what would happen if Anthony were to be in love, some intelligent, beautiful woman, some utopian goddess of his, you didn't like the idea one bit, so you laughed it off.

" Brother in love ? " Benedict was in stitches, banging his palm on the table, shaking few very important papers that laid without any significance. They will be probably used as napkin if you weren't there.

" It's not funny." Colin got up, taking his coat, he rolled his eyes when Benedict refused to stop laughing, you shaked your head helplessly as another mail popped up, Jasmine had written a essay about global peace and increasing capatilism, you groaned, damn you Anthony bridgerton!

_

" Good evening Anthony." You tapped save on your screen as Anthony entered the office, a beak of sweat trickling down his neck line, okay, someone got either fired or roasted down to their very existence, you preferred the former.

" Good evening y/n." He looked up at you, he worried his jaw to say more but decided against it as he settled on his chair, it was very comfy and very big, years of working with him but you couldn't fathom the courage to ever have a taste, perhaps Benedict would help, maybe then.

" There are twelve appointments I have scheduled for tomorrow, Miss Becka—"

" Cancel them."

" What ?! " You almost shouted, you didn't waste your whole day to adjust and fit these pretty woman according to the time and weather and place and Anthony's mood so nothing went wrong, did he just said cancel them like it was nothing, this—

" We are going out Tommorow, it might take all day so cancel them." Anthony ran a hand through his hair as he exhaled sharply, your brain short circuited at the words more and more made some meaning, we ?! Did he, for heaven's sake said we ?

" You and me ? " You blurted and lowered your gaze when his eyes snapped to you, a deep color blazed your nose as you fiddled with your skirt.

" Yes, me and you." He confirmed and you could swore, that was a smile, a small, thin, almost unrecognisable on his always stern face, but that was a smile.

" Why ? " You closed your laptop, tucking the strands of your hair that usually came out after a long day, behind you ear.

Anthony pressed a key and it beeped, he shifted his face to you, thinking that he was almost frowning and finally, he said with a neutral face.

" I have found a match." His face gave nothing away, " Miss Edwina will be most suitable for marriage." He said it like it wasn't his marriage he was talking about, " she's very graceful and witty and would make a amiable wife and a kind loving mot—"

" Right." You snapped mid course, his mouth was hanging open with words lost in void, you knew very well Miss Edwina was a fine young lady, she was beautiful and kind and sharp at wits, ofcourse this ended your torment or perhaps began another, but not now, you needed to think.

" I..I promised Benedict for dinner. " You muttered, feeling your whole body numb as you stumbled out of your seat, Anthony watched, something glazed in his eyes but you couldn't place it, you might if you looked longer but you had no courage left now. You were almost at the glassy door, he was watching you intently and you felt his gaze burn at your back.

" You like my brother quite very much." He startled you, you paused, heart beats echoing through your throat. It was like he was accusing you, almost jabbing his finger on your chest. What does that mean ?

" What could I say ? He's very amiable." You turned to smile at him, it trembled on your lips and Anthony scoffed slightly, mouth curving in disdain but it was gone as soon as it crossed his face. Damn you !

" Have a nice day sir." You closed the door behind you, covering your face as a muffled scream cut through your cartilage.

_

" Miss Edwina ?! " Benedict almost screamed as you narrowed your eye sternly at him, he lowered his voice in a whisper, ducking his head down towards you, " sorry but Miss Edwina ?! "

" I know, I know." You swigged another gulp of the dizzy bubbling liquid that will give you a terrible headache tommorow but right now, you just wanted this uneasiness feeling to go away.

" Didn't her scary sister vowed to ruin him or something like that ? " Benedict licked his thumb, eye's watering at the spice, you loved this place's Chole bhature very much, last time Benedict cried when he accidentally bited the green masala filled chilly.

" Yeah, she refused to take ahead the Mayfair deal, or something like that, not that it would ruin anything and—" You sighed, leaning back your head as the soft music tickled your senses.

" What ? " You heard his faint murmur.

" Well Anthony was right, as soon as our team announced his engagement, ofcourse not revealing the bride, he's well trending—"

" He's always trending." Benedict groaned, chugging water as his lips were swollen with spiced heat.

" Yes, but not for thirsty things, i meant that Aubreyton is trending and our shares are touching the sky and it's a whole profitable season ahead." You ended breathlessly, you stared at him for full second before both your eye's crinkled with smiles and laughter that came from your hearts, it lightened the air somehow as well as your heart.

" You do remember I am part of the executive board ? " Benedict tilted his head with a warm smile and you shaked your head, feeling tipsy.

" Like you do anything except torment me and poor Colin ! " You pouted, feeling your cheeks flush as Benedict threw his head back and laughed.

" Poor Colin ? " He cooed, " he's probably getting laid tonight." He added with a wink, you slapped his shoulder nervously.

" Penelope replied ? "

" Ofcourse, my dear little brother wrote a whole ass three page message, with a picture of all her books that too hardcover and first editions."

" Wow." You said, impressed, Colin was head over heels, it was only a matter of time since the dazzling author knew.

" And what of Miss Beckett ? " You wiggled your eyebrows like Benedict did when he teased you, he turned a beetroot red as he fumbled with the last contents of his glass.

" She refused for a live in relationship." He said, his face grew sad and you mentally winced for putting him there.

" Oh." You nodded, Sophia lived with her evil mother who liked to see her suffer and she was, afterall, too good of a girl.

" Benedict..." You whispered when he closed his eyes softly, hiding his face behind his palms.

" I am not crying." He was. He sniffed as a few heads turned towards the pair of you, many with sympathy, probably thinking you had refused to marry him or something.

" Hey, hey, hey..." You pulled yourself as you dizzily tripped over to his side, wrapping your arms around him as he melted in your embrace.

" She doesn't understand..." He said it so muffled that it was unable to make out what he said, but you understood it anyway.

" She will, she loves you so much." You kissed his head and he nodded, tears streaking your shirt as he finally emerged with red, sticky face and puppy bright eyes.

" I think i drank too much." He admitted, you nodded, feeling yourself floating too.

" Let's call a cab, we shouldn't drive." You suggested, fiddling with cash as you payed the bill, leaving good tip for the teenager waiter, who smiled kindly at every inner joke Benedict shot.

" Uh huh." He focused hard on his phone, sticking his tongue out like he did when he was really, really drunk and or just really, felt the need to, or he was about to do something stupid, which he did.

Twelve minutes later, Anthony bridgerton was standing outside the restaurant with a heavy frown and it was strange to see him in normal clothes, like that grey t-shirt felt odd yet gorgeous and those sweatpants, you were way too drunk, you realised.

" You'll make a fine gentleman." Anthony curted his mouth, his words dripped with sarcasm that you and Benedict were too drunk to catch on.

" Thankyou, the cab idea was mine." He said smugly, ducking out when you smacked his ass with your purse, Anthony watched with wide eyes.

" Liar." You jabbed at him, he started to giggle and stumbled, taking you along before Anthony grabbed you by the waist and pulled you away from him, Benedict winked at you when Anthony closed his eyes, frustration or whatever that dazed him, his touch was electrifying, like current jostling in water.

Anthony pulled away his arms from you, his eyes strained like it pained him just the same it hurt you.

" You are wasting my time brother, get in the car." He glared, " come." He said to you, his gaze softened but that could be alcohol, you weren't reliable narrator especially when it was Anthony bridgerton.

" Well you could have refused." Benedict ran and sprawled inside like a bear, covering the whole back seat with his wasted body.

" Yes well, I didn't come for y—" he clamped his mouth in a thin line, nerve twitching on his forehead as he breathed hard, eyeing you as you ran after Benedict's seat thievery, you opened the door and his head almost snapped when he looked up you, it was a nauseous enough to make you vomit.

" Move." You pulled his hair, in no hell you will sit in the front seat, not like you haven't, but you were drunk and you were angry and you hated Anthony and you wished so much to just, to just, just once, once just, kiss him hard, that's alcohol, bloody alcohol.

" Leave this idiot." Anthony was suddenly behind you, he touched your elbow with same electric touch, guiding you to the empty front seat as he opened the door, you could feel Benedict wiggling his eye, you will deal with this bastard later.

" I was thinking—" Benedict started, once Anthony started driving, he was shut real quick when Anthony glared with words.

" Stop thinking." Anthony rolled the steering wheel and you looked away, those veins taunted and lured you, it was maddening and the streets were much dull and undistracting.

Benedict giggled at something he probably said in his head, you chuckled when he burped, he did too, only Anthony didn't.

" Don't you have a date tommorow with Mr. Dorset ? " Benedict craned his neck to get a view of you, two Bridgerton's eyes were too much to take as you thought hard, well yes a date, with Mr. Dorset, yes, you did remember.

" Ofcourse." You said, Anthony drifted a turn that jerked your head forward and you would have got a concussion if it wasn't his big palm that came for rescue.

" Are you okay ? " He asked, slowing down the car as his fingers pushed you back until the back of your head was pressed against the seat.

" Yeah." You confirmed, nothing was more threatening than his touch. He should bloody know that.

" Are you okay ? " Benedict mimicked and you realised he was down there, squashed on the car floor, his face hidden somewhere.

Anthony ignored him as his expressions hardened, he was breathing hard as he worried his lips, thinking and thinking.

" You do know it might take all day." Anthony finally said and you cocked your head to his side, you were drunk and well, sleepy too.

" What ? Well, it's a dinner date." You assured, Mr. Dorset wasn't letting go and a Thai curry wouldn't hurt anyway.

" Yes well, it might be very late." He was frowning now, his eyes were on the road but he would glance between nano seconds.

" Really ? " You pouted, you were way too gone now, it didn't matter, Anthony's eyes stopped at your lips and when he looked up, something changed, like it must have changed a long ago but it's colours were only visible now, like moon hiding behind the clouds, beaming but not seen and when it's finally high, hanging at sky, you blinked, expecting it to be gone, like everything, but when you opened your eyes, it was still there, as clear as ever, shimmering at you. That's alcohol, bloody alcohol.

" Yes.." Anthony gulped hard, pulling at Benedict's apartment, how much he wanted sophie to built a home with him, soon, you thought, soon.

" Oi y/n, I think I found your lipstick." Benedict hopped up, his face had lines where because he didn't bother to get up once he had fallen, with a shade that you never used in your whole lifetime, Anthony looked away when you tried to catch his eyes.

" That's not mine." You said, feeling anger creep up your neck, not knowing why, it's not that you were the only one who sat in his car and ofcourse you weren't his girlfriend, you weren't his friend even, he was your boss, you were his assistant, that's it, that's fucking it, you really wanted to punch his face, that's bloody alcohol, you would never drink again.

" Benedict, my brother." Anthony took the lipstick away which Benedict was trying to apply on himself, " get the fuck out."

" Goodbye to you too brother." He leaned to smooch Anthony when he hastily pulled away, growling.

" Bye bye sweetheart." Benedict smooched your cheek then and his lips only touched your warm skin before Anthony pushed him back in the back seat, it was, kinda rough.

" You are drunk." He told Benedict who shrugged, blinking heavily.

"He always kissed me goodbye." You glared at Anthony, this freaking bastard, chew on your lipstick, Idiot. You leaned down to kiss Benedict's cheek and he giggled softly, eyes locked with Anthony, his wide bastard grin flashing, glittering as Anthony eye rolled.

When Benedict was dropped, it was your turn, Anthony stared ahead like a statue, you were suffering in your own head.

The silence became heavy in air as the music was either tragic or too loud for your head and Anthony sensed the discomfort, turning it off altogether.

" What are we going to do actually? Venue deciding or something." You finally spoke, remembering how much you stared and stared when the article popped up, Anthony bridgerton looking for a wife !! You remembered the qualification list, should be well spoken, should be linguistic, should want kids, should be family loving, should be this, should be that, should have good enough hips to bear a child like what ?!

You remembered days and days when he would have his appointments, yes appointments, most of times he was out within five minutes, a frown on his face.

" She doesn't know algebra." He said one time when he came out within two minutes and you shrugged, well algebra was hard afterall.

And now Miss Edwina had ended all your miseries and torture, no lists, no more algebra's and Collen Hoover's, nothing of that anymore, Anthony would be a husband soon and perhaps he would love her, or already love her, he was so determined even when Kate sharma threatened to cut deals with Aubreyton if didn't stop sending flowers, well that was your doing, sending flowers because it was your idea, but well, it didn't matter.

" Well not the venue, but wedding ring and wedding dresses, Mother say we match and cake tasting and flowers—" we.

" When's the wedding ? " You looked at him scornfully, Anthony's eyes lowered at you as he stopped the car.

" Next week." Fuck you Anthony!

" Shouldn't you decide that with Miss Edwina herself ? " You were glad, but you had this feeling that he would be taken away from you, once married, he might not be yours, he was never yours, but still, why not start now ?

He frowned like it wasn't the most sensible and obvious thing.

" I..." He hesitated, " Miss Edwina might not want to go, since the wedding is too near and also, to keep it a private engagement."

" Oh." You didn't get a thing, your mind wasn't working as Anthony leaned down to open your door, you freezed, only your heart thudded loudly, could he hear ? What he did to you, well it wouldn't surprise you if he knew and still chose to torture your poor soul. " Why not state it publicly ? "

" I can't deal with the fanfictions." He said in matter of factly way. " And paparazzi giving Edwina trouble." Don't say her name, don't.

" Fanfictions ?! " You laughed so loud that he actually stopped thinking whatever he was, and just looked at you, as if taking in every detail, savouring them, drinking every bit of you in, he looked like he was mesmerized but that was just alcohol, just your silly heart, just you, who had read all those one shots, about you and him, ofcourse you weren't going to admit it and ofcourse you would be quite dammed if you ever saw Anthony getting shipped with Edwina Sharma, they are getting married in a week idiot, yes, but not today, not now, later, when it was time, please, not now. Later, now he was yours.

" You have a good choice either way." He was, for no reason, walking you to your door, you remembered how Benedict was practically kicked out earlier, he would tease you so much if you were to ever tell him.

" Oh please." You chuckled, rubbing your hands together in the chilly air, " I gifted Benedict onesies on his birthday."

Anthony smiled, it didn't leave his face until he caught you staring and you noticed how different he looked, when those lines were of joy instead of worry, he looked young and his boyishness made your heart do cartwheels.

" That was just a joke." He amused, " wasn't it ? " His smile faltered when you shaked your head in a no, fumbling for you keys.

" It wasn't so bad." Anthony said, somewhat traumatised, " Benedict wore them anyway."

" It had penguins ! " You cringed at the memory, a drunkish Polaroid like, blurred and saturated, it was vivid but just like yesterday, Anthony didn't dance until you were both so drunk, perhaps he smiled back than too, and looked just as dazzling.

" You are good y/n." Anthony said sincerely, " stop being mean to yourself." You opened the door but your hands freezed at the doornob, why Anthony had to cut the right wires, why he had to upside down your whole world ?

" Well, same to you Anthony." You said, he lingered on the doorway more than he should, it was alcohol, it really, really was but no amount of gaslighting could blur the memory away, you always remembered how brave you were that night when you leaned down, one step not much, and placed a small, chaste kiss, just a brush of your lips against his blazing skin. A touch to his soul, it sparkled and rose and busted into a thousand orbs and sprinkled like glitters on you and him.

" Good night." You whispered, Anthony stared, too stunned to say anything, then he smiled, small and enchanting.

" Good night y/n." His smile stayed.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi!! I loved the piece you just wrote, tysm :D I’d like to request another George Karim x reader where the reader lives next door & brings the group lots of baked goods. They’re very friendly but a huge airhead. They love listening to the groups ghost adventures and new finds even if they don’t understand it. Thank you !! 👾

“What’s in the tuppaware?” Lucy asked as she lead you into kitchen, practically hovering over your shoulder as you placed the container onto the table. “Look at you being all nosy.” You teased, barely needed to look over your shoulder because of how close she was that all you needed to do was glance out from the corner of your eye and there she was. “I wouldn’t be so nosy had you just opened the bloody thing.” Lucy whined, the weight of her head now pressing down upon your shoulder, eyes transfixed on the white container with tissued insides acting as cushions for whatever was inside.

It was entertaining, seeing your friend this desperate to get a good gander inside the container that you had brought into 35 Portland Row with such care and caution, that it must’ve planted an idea inside her head that whatever it was, it must’ve been of great value. Lucy doubted it was anything like an family heirloom and even if it was, why would you carry it about with you inside a container used primarily for food and such? So when you finally cracked open the container, revealing the contents to Lucy and what she saw didn’t disappoint as she groaned in euphoria when the sweet smell of baked goods came up to tempt her senses.

Inside the container was an inlaid assortment of tarts, lemon cakes, white chocolate and raspberry cookies, scones, cherry bakewells and mini muffins. All of which mingled together smelt sickly sweet but in the most pleasant way possible. “When did you have time to make all of this?!” Lucy exclaimed, not knowing where to put her eyes as all of the treats before her looked just as appealing as the one before and the one before that; there was so many choices and she wanted to try them all if she weren’t going to be forced to share them with two other boys who had just now walked into the kitchen from the library after having heard Lucy’s exclamations.

“Y/n why is Lucy screaming like a dying chicken?” George asked as he loomed over your other shoulder just as Lucy gave his arm a firm smack. “Hey, I do not sound like a dying cow.” She defended herself before looking back to you, “do I?” Your eyes widened as you were quick to pluck a treat at random from the container and placing it in her hand, leaving Lucy a little confused as to why you put a cherry bakewell in her hand. “Try it.” You tell her with a smile, nudging George firmly in the side when you heard him snort and shooting Lockwood an glare when seeing him trying not to laugh before looking back to Lucy who ate the cherry bakewell in just two bites. “This is so fucking good.” She groans, licking the crumbs from her fingers. “What’s the occasion?”

You shrugged, “no occasion, I just wanted to do something nice for all of you considering the cases you guys had been taking on lately have only become increasingly more dangerous…I just don’t want you doing anything or getting into you’ll regret later on.” Lucy, Lockwood and George’s eyes softened at your words, they understood where you were coming from. Lately the trio haven’t been able to take proper care of themselves, so much so that they were frequently skipping breakfast so often that they had to nab something to eat while they were out as a substitute; Their sleep schedules didn’t fare any better either, only getting at least a couple hours in before they were out the door again.

They weren’t given the time to stop and think about how you were effected in all this, being forced to seeing your friends practically running themselves ragged on a daily basis to the point you rarely saw them. “I’m sorry you have to see all that y/n/n.” Lockwood said softly but you waved him off with a smile, “it’s fine, it’s not your fault,” you then look to Lucy and George, “it’s none of yours fault for simply doing your job. I just didn’t want you guys going hungry. So please indulge yourself.” You finished, gesturing to the container as George and Lockwood picked out a lemon cake and strawberry tart respectively.

“You’re a saint y/n.” Lockwood said through a mouthful, earning a sharp nudge from Lucy. “Did nobody teach you that it’s disrespectful to talk with a mouthful?” She hissed and Lockwood just shrugged before reaching for a mini muffin, Lucy sighed and turned to you and George with a look that clearly read ‘do you believe this guy?’ Only to then reach for sneaky seconds herself. That gave you a little chuckle. “Lockwood’s right you known, they’re really good.” George said, finishing off the rest of his lemon cake. “I’m sure you could’ve made them a lot better then I did.” You told him, feeling a little overwhelmed by the compliments you were receiving.

“Are you kidding? I know I’m a greet cook and all but at least give yourself some credit.” He told you, holding out a lemon cake in his palm for you to take -which you did out of curtesy- as you both watched as Lucy and Lockwood filled their cheeks with baked goods; trying your hardest not to burst out laughing when George whispered to you cheekily that they looked like chipmunks stuffing their cheeks with nuts for the winter, which made you let out a hearty laugh much too Lucy’s and Lockwood’s joint confusion. Only someone like George could withdraw a laugh like that from you but whether he knew that or not, you’d refuse to tell him in fear of inflating his ego.

With the container of baked goods now emptied with the exception of a few crumbs, you, Lucy, George and Lockwood moved to the seating area with your respective mugs of tea and a packet of pre-bought biscuits, exchanging funny stories concerning past cases. Your talents weren’t on par with theirs but that didn’t mean you weren’t ignorant towards their work. Besides it was kind hard to be ignorant or blind to it all, considering the fact that the problem was still a conversation still being had to this day, long after it’s original emergence. Yet you weren’t as well versed as Lucy, George and Lockwood were, seeing as they were pushed into it by the adults in their lives while you got a semi-normal life experience.

“Remember that case with the type one over at mrs Jacobs?” Lucy asked from beside you on the sofa, watching with a sense of amendment when Lockwood and George groaned, synchronising their bodies sinking into their deep armchairs. “What happened at mrs Jacobs?” You inquired, looking between the trio, curious of the context. Lockwood pinched the skin between his brow as though to relive himself of an headache as he began to iterate the story. “Basically we got called up to investigate what was suspected as a type one in the case file but as it turns out it was just raccoon in the attic making all the ruckus. We went home empty handed that day.”

“Ha!” You balked, feeling the need to put your mug down on the coffee table to away the tears from your eyes. “A raccoon?” You asked as your voice took an octave higher then normal from how hard you were laughing over a small misconception. “Yep. A raccoon.” George echoed, “didn’t help that the little guy was rummaging through some storage boxes and when he heard us coming. Poor guy was stuck beneath a magicians hat… it took us a total of five minutes to get it off and escort it out of the house.” He added, smiling when he saw you holding your stomach, probably visualising your friends trailing after a raccoon scampering across the attic misguidedly from underneath a magicians hat for a majority of the night.

“Oh! What about that one time Lockwood slipped in a puddle of ectoplasm.” Lucy jumped in, wanting to see how hard they could make you laugh before you called it quits because your ribs and stomach were hurting from continuous laughter. “You did!” You and George exclaimed, both looking over at Lockwood who looked about ready to die on the spot from the sudden attention brought his way. “Yes I did.” he sighed, mentally wondering where he went wrong for Lucy to spill a secret he thought they promised to keep in confidentiality. “Besides what about the time that ghost knocked George’s glasses off?” He then added when the memory came to him so suddenly, causing George to sink further into his deep arm chair when he felt your overly curious eyes turn on him.

“You’re only bringing that up because you’ve got nothing embarrassing against Lucy!” He exclaimed, not wanting to recall how Lockwood has to keep the type two occupied whilst he rummaged for his glasses; especially not in front of you of all people. This continued another while longer before it became past curfew for you to go home until Lucy insisted you’d sleep the night up in the attic with her upon the air mattress they kept…somewhere. Over all the day was well spent and there was nowhere else you’d rather spend it then with your dearest of friends.

[redpaintsplatter]

Hiii! Here’s chapter 1 of my AlmondBread fanfic. I wrote this like.. over a month ago maybe? The start is a bit rough. It’s my first time writing proper fanfiction. I hope you guys enjoy even if you don’t care about my oc.

Chapter 1: Familiar Faces

Fresh out of hell; that’s what it felt like everytime Shortbread broke out of prison. He’s back on the run again, sliding through the slick streets of the city. Sleeping behind dumpsters and avoiding the police. That was to be his life on the outside. It sucked but anything is better than prison. He’s been there so many times he knows all the guards by first and last name.

Freedom is the only thing on his mind at this moment while he’s surrounded by big overpowering concrete walls, cracked and pothole covered asphalt roads line the floor below. As he’s slipping around corners he’s getting himself lost. Has the city changed or is his mind beginning to fail him? To add insult to injury a cop is on his tail, every move he makes, every corner he turns, the cop is right there. Until suddenly he’s hit a dead end. Shit… Shortbread sighed to himself and then slowly turned around with his hands up. Exposing some of the cracks in his dough from previous encounters; past arrests have damaged his body. A bright flashlight blinded him once he was finally facing the man. It turned off quickly though and he heard a familiar voice call out to him.

Out from the darkness, Almond Cookie steps out, he puts his flashlight back onto his holster and shakes his head at the familiar

escaped convict.

“Shortbread?” Almond calls out to him.

“What are you doing? How is there already a warrant out for your arrest you were just—“ he’s cut off by the much louder blonde.

“What? No hello?” Shortbread snickers at the detective.

“Cut the questions, you already know the answer to all of that. You could’ve just said it was you.”

Shortbread stretched and began to approach Almond. Standing at just an inch shorter than him.

“Ain’t we gettin’ a bit too old for this game of cat and mouse? Why do they still have you running around out here?”

Almond Cookie stared a bit blankly at the other before clearing his throat and replying,

“I like it out here. Besides, you’re getting lucky that it’s only me out here. You would’ve been thrown to the ground by now, some of my younger officers are much more… feisty. I guess I’ll go with that.” He rolls his wrist as he replies.

Shortbread moves his hand to mimic a mouth opening up and down once Almond begins to mention his coworkers. He knows what he’s implying with all of that, and as truthful as it is. He can’t stand it. Seems like every time he’s on the run someone has to remind him about his brittle dough, the cracks in his back and sides, the missing crumbs from times he wasn’t so lucky. He’s comparable to the road they’re standing on.

“I get the idea ‘mond.” Shortbread grumbled and crossed his arms in reply. “I… missed you.”

Almond just shook his head at him instead of verbally responding. That nickname brought a smile to his face, brightening it up and clashing against those tired eyes. The “I missed you” was a nice touch too. He knows he missed him, but it’s nice to hear it. Shortbread was never the affectionate type, at least not with his words, so anything he is, is a welcomed surprise.

“I know you did, and I know you didn’t ask but you can stay with me again. Just for a few days. I can’t be caught harboring a criminal.” Almond said in a tired voice.

He can run pretty fast but it’s always exhausting after. Maybe he is getting too old. He gives Shortbread a glance over, seeing if he’s just as tired. By his surprise it seems that he is. He’s panting quite heavily still, it’s quiet but noticeable to his trained eyes. Because of this panting Shortbread just nodded in response. The adrenaline was pumping through him earlier. It’s worn off now.

Almond gestured with his head for him to follow. The police car was parked nearby, its flashing lights illuminated the walls as the two walked closer and closer to it. As they approach Almond holds open the door to the passenger seat. That amused Shortbread

“Never been in the front of one of these.” He snickered and then sat down.

“Oh yeah? You’d prefer it in the back? Can handcuff ya and everything.” Almond replied now just as amused as Shortbread.

“I’m good, though I will say the side view of you is far less appealin’ than the back.” Shortbread grinned and Almond stifled a laugh.

The two drove off, following traffic laws of course. The engine filled their silent ride with an annoying rumble. Almond had been meaning to get that checked out, but he always forgets once he’s out of the car. Unlike him though, Shortbread quite likes the sound. Most of the cop cars he goes in are far newer. Don’t have loud annoying engines. Hearing this one means he’ll be safe. Almond has delivered him to jail a few times in this car. All those trips were quite fun. They’d laugh, and flirt. Then in front of everyone he’d have to act like Almond is some hardass and just shook the crap out of him. The two could win an Oscar really, the entire force is convinced they despise each other.

Almond breaks the silence and engine running with a loud yawn. He wipes the tears from his eyes then is back to driving. Little did he know that Shortbread was watching him at that moment. He got this sort of lovesick look in his eyes. He never knew how much he needed and wanted him until now. He missed him so much in that stupid prison. Once he finally looked away Almond glanced over, a big smile washed over him. He knows that look. One of his hands moves off the steering wheel and onto Shortbread’s thigh. He caresses it gently then gives it a loving squeeze. This sent butterflies erupting into Shortbread’s stomach. If he wasn’t already head over heels he would be now. The two enjoyed the rest of their car ride like this, not moving an inch.

[saddboii98]

Who Knew?

I wrote out the full lyrics to fully respond to your question. Everything in “quotes” is a lyrics , anything that is not in “quotes” is my response.

“You took my hand, you showed me how You promised me you'd be around Uh-huh, that's right I took your words, and I believed In everything you said to me Yeah, huh, that's right”

I feel like you showed me that you truly meant your words of longevity through thick and thin , through all types of weather. It doesn’t’ matter if we are lovers , friends , ex friends , ex lovers , or no longer talking I feel like no matter what your friendship has always been real. You have no idea how many people have come in and out of my life and did absolutely the worst things… but you have done something that very few have been able to show and that loyalty/longevity

“If someone said three years from now You'd be long gone I'd stand up and punch them out 'Cause they're all wrong I know better 'cause you said forever, and ever Who knew?”

They all have said that… If only they knew they were wrong because they will always be wrong about you.

“Remember when we were such fools And so convinced and just too cool Oh no, no, no I wish I could touch you again I wish I could still call you a friend I'd give anything”

I felt like this quote heavily.. when you blocked me recently.. but I also felt this when we would go very long and I mean very long periods of 0 communication. I also felt like this the last time you and I were in my bedroom.

“When someone said count your blessings now 'Fore they're long gone I guess I just didn't know how I was all wrong But they knew better, still you said forever, and ever Who knew? (Yeah, yeah)”

I don’t believe this quote at this current time , but it may be true someday IF I get married , or you get married. You never know. We could someday be strangers again and that saddest part.

“I’ll keep you locked in my head (my head) Until we meet again (meet again) Until we, until we meet again And I won't forget you, my friend What happened?”

I wrote you a letter awhile back but never gave it to you. This is true… I keep you locked in my head because that’s where you’re safest with me. I think I always say until next time or until later.. & Of course I won’t forget you my friend… How could I forget one of the only people I truly love.

“If someone said three years from now You'd be long gone I'd stand up and punch them out 'Cause they're all wrong and That last kiss, I'll cherish until we meet again And time makes it harder, I wish I could remember But I keep your memory, you visit me in my sleep My darling, who knew?”

“That last kiss” this could be taken romantically , but I think of it more of a…. Like idk how to say it. In my head I am thinking , I’ll cherish all our intimate true , loving moments (doesnt even have to be sexual) & I do dream of you from time to time. It’s always a sad dream , never something really happy. It’s a more nostalgic type of feeling in the dream. It’s always a bitter sweet type of feeling in my head. The last dream(s) I’ve had of you I was just always woke up very thankful to have a friend like you.

“My darling, my darling, who knew? My darling, I miss you My darling, who knew? Who knew?”

I’ll always miss you. I don’t think we will ever be able to have the friendship I envision in my head but even to have a crumb of your cookie , a drop of your water , a second out of the year from you I’ll always be grateful.

So now tell me? What do you think?

[grayintogreen]

I'm so scattered writing-wise today. Just floundering, writing scenes for different projects, BUT I WROTE A BIT OF YCDNH from like... twenty chapters in and I wanna share a bit of it because this is what happens when you break canon.

(Context: Due to circumstances, the Nein do not give the Beacon to the Bright Queen when they meet her.)

“We could give it to someone else,” Caduceus piped up as he walked into the room with a tray of snacks and tea. He must have been listening from the next room. “Someone we trust to do the right thing and not talk too much about how they came by it.”

“It is not a bad idea, Mr. Clay.” Cree reached for one of the tea biscuits and proceeded to dunk it in the tea he’d handed her until it started to crumble. “But who here in the Dynasty do we trust?”

“We can’t give it to Agee,” he said, sliding down into his seat now that everything had been passed around. “That would draw too much suspicion.”

Jester slapped her hands on the table, nearly upsetting her teacup. “What about Essek?”

Everyone’s eyes snapped to her. Molly chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Jester, dear, I like him fine and all, but he is a high end political figure and a wizard and we have bad luck with both of those things.”

“But he was all oh the Bright Queen never lets me do the research I want at dinner,” she protested. “Maybe if he turns in a lost beacon, she’ll be like-“ and she put on a dreamy affectation of the Bright Queen’s voice,“-’Oh Shadowhand, you are so cool and great to get us our Beacon back. I’ll let you do whatever you want forever.’”

Molly snorted, but Caleb only looked pained. “You are forgetting that in his culture the research he wants to do is considered heretical.”

Beau steepled her fingers and put on her Expositor Voice. “Might be a good way to make sure he doesn’t fuck us though. He gives the Bright Queen the Beacon without implicating us and we don’t tell her about his side projects and all these secrets he wants us to keep from her.”

“I don’t wanna blackmail Essek,” Jester pouted. “I think he’d be nice about it.”

“As much as I hate to admit it because I trust that man so very little…” Cree paused to lick damp cookie crumbs off her whiskers. “He has been one of the few who have been consistent in helping us here.”

“It’s him, Agee, and-“ Yasha started to count on her fingers. “The professor?”

Molly blanched. “We are not giving it to her. There’s- listen, I don’t think giving it to Essek is the best plan, but there’s giving it to the guy we have actual dirt on and there’s giving it to the woman who, quite frankly, kind of looks like she would dissect us if she saw an opportunity.”

“I thought you liked her.” Beau lifted an eyebrow.

“She is a delight, but she is also a deeply awful person. You two have that in common.” He blew a kiss to Beau’s responding middle finger.

[whatmoredoyouwangfromme]

Dark Choco and Dark cacao.

They have issues

I originally wrote this in a longer version, but then everything glitched and I lost taht, so fuck it

Cacao is angry at Choco because he probably doenst know that Choco was kinda possessed when he attacked the first time, and has been intensely emotionally and mentally manipulated by the cookies of darkness, looking at you Pom Pom, for god knows how long, so he’s not in his right mind.

And Choco is mad cause he was probably kinda neglected as a kid, and in some way, feels justified by the fact he managed to hurt his father

But there is hope.

I’m not elaborating on that again, cause it keeps crashing each time I try, so fuck it, just listen to my two other ideas sorta connected

I’ve seen the idea that the sword is possessed by an old evil Cacao family member, and while it’s good, I’m gonna twist it. I like to think it’s possessed by Dark Cacao’s dead brother or something, in fact, fuck it, let’s make him Cacao’s evil twin brother. who I am going to call caffeine for now. I like to think that in the Dark Cacao kingdom, it’s very rough, and when twins both wanted the throne, it was decided the best way to settle it, would be through a fight. Now, Caffeine would be taller than Cacao, and would usually win. Often taunting “you’ll lose everything to me Cao. Just a matter of time.” Mean sibling stuff. But by some odd luck, Dark Cacao actually won that day. Either Caffeine ended up dead after the fight, cause of injuries, or he was so pissed off, that he tried to kill Cacao right there, after he lost the fight, and Cacao had to defend himself, by plunging his sword through Caffeine’s chest. As Caffeine is crumbling, he mutters one last time “you’ll lose Cao. You will lose everything to me.”, and with that final promise, he dies. Rip. Understandably, Dark Cacao is kinda shaken up, and decides to not use that particular sword any more, and just has it put somewhere for decoration, while he gets a sweet new sword, that’s even bigger. And years later, his son stumbled upon the sword. After Choco nearly kills Dark cacao a second time, he starts having nightmares of his brother. And in one, his brothers mocks him “You’ve lost it all Cao. All to me.” And Cacao remembers the fucking sword. He realizes, after way too long, that his evil brother is all to blame. And he really did lose to him. He’s lost his son.

The heroes, including Hollyberry, Pure Vanilla and Dark Cacao, are all sneaking up on the villain’s base. Sadly, the villains already know. And are ready. Dark Choco realizes his dad is with the heroes, and after a long internal debate on wether or not he cares, he realizes he really does, and the cookies of darkness will end up killing the heroes if they try this,, and this is his last chance at redemption. So he distracts the other cookies of darkness. No, not by attacking them! By acting like h’s going to, and then attacking himself. The other cookies of darkness start freaking out, Dark Enchantress, her White Lilly side shining through, tries to hold him, and he just smiles at her, and says “I’m not sorry auntie.” Right as Dark Cacao bursts in. He charged ahead of the others. All the cookies of darkness are too shocked to react, and end up running away. Leaving Dark Cacao with the slowly crumbling body of his son. Dark Choco says “I’m sorry my king.” As Dark Cacao runs to him, panicking, because yes, he had disagreements, to put it kindly, with Dark Choco, but now that he’s actually dying right in front of him..? No parent wants to see that. He holds Dark Choco, and says “my son, stay awake. You will have time to redeem yourself, just.. stay awake.“ Dark Choco does not stay awake, and as the other heroes approach, they hear Dark Cacao scream, tehy run in, and find him gently cradling Dark Choco’s cape, his crumbs scattered around, and he’s still screaming and sobbing.

[johnnycranes]

Can I request Sydney having her car accident outside of Joseph’s compound rather than Jacob’s? And then obviously something blooms from there 🙈

Amanda this was really big brain and i can't believe this couple took over my brain over the weekend. thank you for indulging me as always! 💞

Sydney still gets amnesia but it's Joseph who finds her instead of Jacob.

words: 3.2k

rating: e

warning/s: fingering, fluff, mentions of violence, sydney being completely clueless in the kitchen, joe being a tease

not only is this my first Joe fic, but i also wrote this until 4am sunday morning running on a starbucks frappuccino that I drank a bit too late cuz i was craving. so take that as you will.

“These are good.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

“Sydney I’ve tried three of your batches already. I’ve tasted enough carbon crusted cookies to know this is different.”

Sydney rolled her eyes at the Father, but she was grinning as he did seem to enjoy the new batch of cookies she made, with a fifth one already in the oven. She’d been in the compound’s kitchen the whole morning trying to perfect the recipe Elena taught her.

Luckily Joseph volunteered to taste test. Sydney wasn’t about to subject Elena to potential food poisoning. Joseph at least, well, the Voice was probably watching over him. He’d be fine.

She smiled as he took another cookie into his mouth. “You’re sure these are good enough to be served?” she asked, still worried that maybe he was just saying that because his taste buds were desensitized from the first three experimental batches.

The Father chewed on the cookie before smiling back at her, his blue eyes twinkling behind his aviators. He slid his hand across the flour-covered counter to hold hers. “They’re delicious. Our brothers and sisters will love them just as much as I do.”

Sydney huffed out a disbelieving laugh as she turned her palm over to intertwine her fingers in Joseph’s. “I just… I want to do something nice for everyone.” Her lips twitched down into a small frown. “You’ve all helped me so much.”

Joseph squeezed Sydney’s hand and she didn’t meet his gaze even as he moved to stand right in front of her, her brown hair fanning her face.

“What’s really bothering you?” he asked gently, in the same tone he used on his flock when they sought his guidance. She didn’t stop him when he tilted her chin up to look at him, and almost smiled when she saw cookie crumbs stuck to his beard.

She let out a shaky sigh. “The dreams are getting worse.” she confessed as images of blood on her hands, of people screaming before she killed them, of bodies wearing the logo of Eden’s Gate on them, flashed in her mind.

She stared up at Joseph, her brown eyes meeting his blue ones hiding behind his aviators. She could feel the tears threatening to fall as Joseph slowly moved the strands of her hair away from her face.

“Every night I hear screams of people I’ve killed.” she started, blaming Joseph’s Father persona for how quick she confessed.

She squeezed his hand that still held her own. ”And then I walk outside in the morning and see the smiles of people in the compound.” She bit her lip. “I murdered their friends and they treat me like family? I don’t…” she let out a sob. “Just who the fuck was I? Why did I kill so many of them?"

Sydney barely finished talking when Joseph pulled her into his embrace and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She didn’t even know she was shaking until he shushed her, rubbing her back soothingly.

She had no idea how people like Elena and the other Project members could tell her God bless or greet her good morning when she passed them by, after what she did to so many of them. She didn’t even know why she did it and it made her sick.

They were good people. She must’ve been a monster before her accident, the car crash that brought her to Joseph.

Her saving grace.

“They know you’re atoning, Sydney.” Joseph told her reassuringly, the sound of his voice vibrating against her, comforting her. “Everyone here has committed sins, so have I. But we accept them and make up for them. That is what you are doing.”

She gripped onto the white fabric of his shirt tighter. “I don’t even know what I did!” she yelled. Every night she feared going to sleep, knowing that the nightmares would come in full force and haunt her, accuse her of the countless atrocities she didn’t even know she did.

It helped a little when Joseph started sleeping with her, cradling her against his chest. She’d still scream sometimes when she woke up, but he was always there to hold her and calm her down when she did.

She didn’t know how much worse it would’ve gotten if it weren’t for him.

Joseph held either side of her face, cupping and rubbing her cheeks as he placed a kiss on her forehead. Sydney’s sobbing gradually died down as he did so.

“It doesn’t matter who you were before, baby.” he whispered against her temple. “I’m just thankful God brought you here to us, to me, for this second chance.”

He hesitantly pressed his lips to hers, and Sydney let him kiss her, her body melting at his touch, just knowing how gentle he was being with her, to be so lucky that she ended up in his arms after whatever horrific acts she’d done to his people.

She kissed him back and Joseph took that as a sign to keep going. He coaxed her mouth open and slowly devoured her, breathing in heavily through his nostrils. Sydney pressed her body as close to his as possible, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him in, wanting more and more of him.

Joseph nipped at her bottom lip and Sydney gasped softly. “Joseph.” she said breathlessly against his mouth.

His hands went to her hips and he squeezed. “You’re everything, Sydney.” he said in between kisses. “You’re my salvation and my undoing.”

She hastily tossed his glasses off his face and onto the table. The last time they made out while he had them on, well…

It was a good thing he had a spare and only nicked the side of his eye. She didn’t know how to feel when John was the only one who laughed at her eye patch joke.

Joseph’s hands went to the ends of her tank top and she helped him pull it off of her. His mouth went to suck at her neck as he worked on removing her bra. She let out soft mewls and craned her neck up to him.

By the time her breasts were bare to him, his lips trailed down to her chest and he took a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and biting down gently. And God, she wasn’t ashamed of how loud she moaned, relishing in Joseph’s carnal treatment.

He pushed her against the counter and as much as Sydney wanted to sit her ass down on it, there was flour and cookie dough all over.

Plus the Joseph-approved batch of cookies too, no way was she letting anything happen to them.

Sydney clinged tighter onto his shirt and only then realized that he still fucking had one on. She went to tug it off of him but he stopped her, grabbing her wrists in his hands.

“This is about you, baby.” he growled out, and Sydney felt the heat coil in her belly as she gazed down at him from where he was pressing kisses to her breasts, keeping his eyes on hers. Fuck did he have to look at her like that? “Let me worship you."

His hands went to the waistband of her shorts and Sydney pushed her hips forward as he unbuttoned the bottoms and his fingers went underneath her panties, touching her heat.

“Joe anyone could just walk in.” she whispered as she glanced at the door. It wasn’t even fucking locked!

What a sight that would be, for one of his people to see their leader’s fingers deep inside her as she cried out his name while a tray of cookies cooled beside them.

“Does that mean you want me to stop?” he asked before roughly kissing her nipple while a finger teasing her entrance.

She bucked her hips up again and Joseph tsked at her, steadying her against the counter. “Yes or no, Sydney?”

She wanted to scream at him that obviously the answer was no and he should maybe hurry up then, but she didn’t trust her voice not to crack so she simply shook her head.

But of course that wasn’t enough for him, dammit. “Use your words. What do you want me to do?” he asked and oh fuck, she really just needed him to push his damn fingers inside of her or she was going to cry and do it herself.

“Please, baby. Need your fingers inside of me.” she whimpered.

Joseph fucking chuckled and Sydney had half a mind to scream at him but before she could, he finally moved his fingers inside of her and she moaned instead.

“You’re soaking wet.” he growled out and she let out such a weak noise when his mouth went up to suck at her neck, his beard prickling her rosy skin. “You can’t hide from me, you know that.”

She did.

For all the times her Lust begged to be satiated, Joseph was always more than happy to help her out.

She spread her legs wider as Joe’s fingers thrusted faster inside her. Her whimpers were becoming louder and he had to shush her gently.

She didn’t know why his calm and reassuring voice combined with the rough treatment of his fingers inside her turned her on even more. Only he could pull off something like that.

Fuck, she didn’t trust herself to keep quiet and thankfully Joseph seemed to sense that as well as he captured her lips in his. Her fingers found their way to his hair tie and she set his long hair free, pulling his head closer to her.

He pushed another finger inside her and Sydney moaned against his mouth and rolled her hips, feeling her end inching closer.

She mewled. “Baby I’m - ah fuck, faster - I’m so close, so close.”

Joseph pushed her further onto the counter and Sydney’s upper body practically touched the surface, the only thing keeping her from falling was her clinging onto him.

“You should see yourself, Sydney. Spread out for me and grinding yourself on my fingers.” He growled before kissing her roughly. “Absolutely beautiful. My angel and my temptress.”

Her mind was clouded with lust that she almost didn’t care if her back would be covered in flour. It’d be worth it to see Joseph standing over her, his blue eyes completely focused on her, his hair fanning his face as he fucked her in such a public space.

God, she wanted that. Wanted him so much.

His fingers picked up in speed and Sydney could feel the stars at the back of her eyes.

He nipped her ear. “I don’t think I’ll stop if anyone comes in. Let them see I’m the only one who can fuck you and make you feel good.”

Oh there was no fucking way she could stay quiet now.

"Joseph I can’t… I can't." she sobbed out.

He kissed his way along her jaw and cradled her face with his other hand. "It's ok, baby." He said so fucking calmly, how the hell could he be so calm!? "I've got you. Scream for me."

And so she did.

Her head lolled back and she yelled at the top of her lungs as she clenched around Joseph's fingers. He moved the hand on her cheek to cover her mouth, muffling her shouts of euphoria. His blue eyes stayed on her the whole time, looking at her with hooded eyes.

As she came down from her high, Joseph cradled her, his fingers still inside her and overstimulating her. "Good girl, Sydney. Good girl, so beautiful." He whispered in between kisses, his hand no longer covering her mouth.

He said it with such devotion that she almost sobbed again, the three words she'd been wanting to tell him for a while now threatening to tumble from her mouth.

Catching her breath as Joe finally pulled his fingers away, she smiled tiredly up at him. "I still need you to fuck me, baby." She said breathlessly, her heart screaming at her to tell him she loves him.

Joseph smirked down at her, moving stray brown strands of her hair away from her face. "Perhaps we should save that for later. Look."

He pointed to something behind her and it took all of Sydney's willpower to turn away from him and follow his finger.

Her eyes widened when she saw the oven's timer tick closer to the zero mark and, like he was a psychic or something, the oven dinged and her newest batch of cookies were done.

Scrambling off of Joe and zipping her shorts up, she surprised even herself when she had the clear mind to wash her hands before putting on the cute pink oven mitts Elena gave her and retrieving the delicious-smelling freshly baked goods.

She grinned at her successful fifth attempt, no burnt sides or doughy looking pieces! She turned her head up to look at Joe.

"I told you I'd get it right in less than seven tries." She said proudly. And now Benjamin owed her money.

Which she would then have to hide from Joseph because apparently gambling wasn't allowed in the compound. Oh well.

Joseph smirked and looked too amused for his own good. "I never doubted you. But I don't think you should be handing those out looking like that."

His eyes looked her up and down, and Sydney realized her breasts were still bare for the world to see.

Right.

Blushing hard, she shrugged and said, "What? You're the only one who can walk around shirtless around here?" She said playfully.

She considered it a victory when Joseph actually chuckled before handing her bra and tank top to her. He rarely laughed so openly and genuinely that Sydney treasured every time he did. Even moreso when she was the reason for it.

Whether he laughed at her or with her, it was fine.

Even if it was usually the former that happened.

Now fully dressed, she walked up to Joe and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you." She started, smiling up at him. "For being my taste tester and for cheering me up. I know how busy you are."

His gaze softened and Sydney felt her heart soar. "I will always have time for you. You should know that by now."

A part of Sydney kept screaming at her to tell him how much she loved him, while another part told her not to, with so many excuses as to why she shouldn’t.

It was too soon, she shouldn’t be so selfish and keep him from his people, he was too busy and soon he’d realize he was wasting his time with her.

In the end, the latter part won. "I need to tell Elena I'm finished." She said instead, glancing again at her masterpiece.

Joseph smiled and caressed her cheek. "And I need to check on my brothers and sister but I'll be there when you hand out the cookies."

Sydney grinned as she pressed her lips to his, her heart bursting with the L-word for him.

Every damn time she told herself not to say it, he had to go and say something that made her heart flutter.

Maybe she’d get the courage some other day.

“I’ll talk to you later.” And then she glanced to the side, clearing her throat before looking back up at Joseph again.

“You know you still owe me sex, right?” she asked, her cheeks flaring with warmth.

Joe’s blue eyes sparkled mischievously and how can a good man of faith be so good at teasing too? “Trust me, Sydney. I’m more than aware.” he said huskily before nipping her ear.

At a loss for words, Sydney could only say “Good.” and immediately mentally facepalmed herself.

Good? Good!?

You can do better than that, Williams.

Joseph kissed her cheek and shook her out of her thoughts. “No more tears?” he asked, smiling warmly.

Sydney nodded. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask.” He fixed his glasses upon his face and tied his hair neatly back into a manbun.

Sydney knew that as soon as he walked out the door, he’d become the Father again and she wouldn’t be able to bother him until later that day. He had his responsibilities after all, and so did she.

So she couldn’t stop herself when she grabbed his hand and asked, “Who I was before the amnesia…” she took a deep breath, vanishing the images of blood and corpses that threatened to resurface again. “I’m just glad you were the one who saved me, in more ways than one.”

She didn’t know why she suddenly needed to say it, maybe it was her confessing her nightmares, him reassuring her, her wanting to tell him just how much she loved him.

Joseph seemed to pause as he stared at her, like his mind was someplace else. Sydney was getting worried that she said the wrong thing.

Holy shit.

She went over the last 5 seconds checking if she actually did end up saying the L-word.

She didn't.

Right?

Right.

Joseph finally moved to kiss her forehead. "Who you were before, and who you are now, you're still the same Sydney.” Behind his yellow aviators, his piercing blue eyes met her brown ones. “God may have given you a second chance but you were never a monster.”

He said it with such confidence and assurance that it took Sydney’s breath away. Joseph always kept her horrible thoughts at bay, he was good at calming her down, at listening to her when she needed it.

She kissed him again just because. She couldn’t outright say it for now, but she could still show him how much he meant to her, how much she’d come to care for him.

It seemed cliche that she fell for the man who rescued her from her accident, but it happened anyway.

She still remembered how she smiled so goofily every time he talked to her, how whenever she’d be so absorbed or frustrated with something, her friend Benjamin simply had to say Hello Father and she’d whip around so fast trying to find him, only to see that her friend pranked her yet again as he cackled the whole time about how bad she had it.

Joseph pulled away, his smile so warm as he cupped her face in his hands and Sydney couldn’t help but love how incredibly sappy they were being.

“What we have, Sydney… I want you to know it’s one of the greatest gifts God has blessed me with.” he said softly.

Sydney tried hiding her blush with a laugh but knew it was no use, didn’t help either with how intense Joseph was staring at her. “Go, Joseph. If the cookies go cold then I’m claiming you sabotaged them.”

“With your track record in the kitchen, we both know no one will believe you.” he teased.

And dammit he was right.

She flipped him off and if she tried that weeks ago with him, he would’ve scolded her and told her how foul that was. But he slowly got used to it, and now simply laughed.

She knew better than to do that in front of his people though, that would probably be a Hope County scandal or something.

She heard the door shut behind her and Joseph was gone, leaving her alone with the cookies.

She fixed up the tray of baked goods, smiling fondly remembering how helpful her taste tester was.

[gracefulsunflower]

CONTRARY - FINN SHELBY X READER; PART 35

PUBLISHED: 07/07/2022

Part 1

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST

READER'S POV

Finn and I had already been to camp (after showering together, of course) to get breakfast and pick up Saoirse. Now we were in the living room, hanging up the paintings that Billy had given us for Christmas. He had given one to each of us, then one to all of us.

I had no doubt that Linda thought of the gift. She may have been a bitch, but she sure knew how to pick presents.

It was a good thing, too, because they made our walls look all the less bare. We didn't have many photos. Finn's parents weren't overly worried about taking photos of him, and we could rarely get near a camera to take photos of Saoirse, having to draw or paint her instead. In fact, the only photo Finn and I had together, as well as the only one all three of us had together, was ones from our wedding.

I frowned as I adjusted the painting on its hook and made sure it was level, then stepped back, going and curling up in my armchair.

"What's wrong, my love?" Finn asked from his spot on the floor next to Saoirse, practicing a song she taught him on the ukulele as she read a book.

"We don't have any family photos," I huffed, and Saoirse stopped reading to look at me.

Finn shrugged one shoulder, as if he couldn't care less, making me scowl. He cocked a brow and waved a hand, showing him to not worry about it.

"We should get some?" She suggested, although it sounded more like a question than a suggestion.

"We can book a photographer for our wedding anniversary," Finn added, eyes still on me as he studied me.

"I'd like that idea. But it's ages away though," I complained, throwing my arms up in annoyance as I shifted so I was dangling my legs over the side of the chair and my upper half was hanging over the other side of the armchair.

"It's in nine days, on the tenth," Finn pointed out as I listened to the fire crackle, and my eyes widened.

"Like fuck it is," I protested, rolling out of the chair, landing on my hands and knees with a 'thud' then standing up and marching over to the door leading to the hallway, making my way into the kitchen.

I headed towards the fridge, where we had a calendar hung up on it, and looked at the January page.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Oh, fuck, it is."

"Told you," Finn replied as he came into the kitchen, making me roll my eyes.

I kept on looking at the calendar as Finn pottered around.

"Your birthday is on the third?" I asked, turning to face my husband, "How come you never said anything about it."

He paused, mouth open as the arm holding the cookie he was going to bite stopping in its tracks, and shrugged, then bit half of the cookie clean off.

I gave him a deadpan look, clearly not impressed with his response, and grabbed the pen from the top of the fridge, then wrote in my birthday, placing the pen on top of the fridge once more.

"Well, when's yours then?" He questioned, mouth still full of cookie.

"On the fourth," I answered, and walked over to the island to grab my own cookie out of the jar.

He swallowed the food in his mouth, looking at me in bewilderment, "Of January?"

"Of January," I confirmed, and took a bite, humming at the taste of it.

They were homemade, I made them yesterday before we started partying.

Finn's eyes kept on flickering to my bracelet as he nibbled on his second biscuit, and I nudged him with my foot.

"What, Finn?" I sighed, feeling slightly frustrated, and he held a finger up as he continued chewing, then swallowed, and wiped his lower face with the back of his hand, ridding it of any crumbs.

He hesitated, putting his cookie down. He opened his mouth and closed it. I fought the urge to cross my arms impatiently, instead deciding to reach out and grab his hand, rubbing the back of it with my thumb. The action made his cheeks tint pink.

"Erm — I was looking at the rose charm," Finn admitted, leaning back against the island and hoisting himself up to sit on the bench.

I did the same, swinging my feet and waiting for him to continue.

"Well — I know from how all of the kids talk that Aberama and Rose never actually separated and that your father never actually got with Marian. And I'm confused about how you even ended up with Aberama." Finn said, the words tumbling out of his mouth and nearly running together at some points.

I nodded slowly, "How about a cup of tea?"

Finn immediately leaned over and switched the kettle on, as I wiggled around and made myself more comfortable, leaning back on my palms.

"So — where should I start?" I asked my husband, looking up at the roof so I wouldn't have to see him looking at me.

"At the start," He replied, barely giving me time to finish my own sentence.

I took a moment to think, before starting to speak.

"Rose and Aberama were on again off again, although everyone knew they belonged together. They had Esmeralda a good six years before me, then Bonnie followed three years after. In an off again stage, Dad met Marian at a fairground, and they got to know each other in the biblical sense. Eight months later, I came along, and with the help of some healers from the Gold family, I survived." I said, racking my brain for what Dad told me about my early years.

"Eight months?" Finn asked incredulously, eyes wide, "Is that why you're so short?"

I could feel my cheeks growing warmer.

"The healers said it was an effect of coming into the world too early!" I snapped, and Finn said a quick 'Sorry'.

"Anyway. I lived with Marian, and Dad would come and visit when he could, taking me on the road when Marian let him. Sometimes Marian even came with. Her and Rose got on well, as well as her and the older two, until they found out what she was really like, of course. He had eyes in the neighbourhood, other travellers that had settled down, so he knew how I was faring, somewhat. Uhhh — I never went to school. Marian didn't want to send me, instead I just ran amuck around the neighbourhood, playing hopscotch, making friends, eating apples from our neighbours' orchard — just having fun." I paused as the kettle stopped boiling.

Finn got up and started making us tea.

"Keep going," He requested as he grabbed the biscuits.

"Marian was forever nasty when I was a child, only nice when we had company. It got worse as I got older," I recounted, my hand absentmindedly going up and rubbing the small scar going through my eyebrow, "When Saoirse came along, after I turned eight, Dad and Rose came to visit us with her. That was probably the first time Dad, and the older two, actually ever saw firsthand how Marian treated me. Dad didn't take too kindly to it, and tried to take me off of Marian, but Marian had a lot of friends in high places, friends that wouldn't mind turning a blind eye to the way she treated me."

Finn grimaced as he brought my tea and biscuits over to me and sat it on the bench next to me, then taking the time to press a kiss to my forehead and hold it for a while, before moving to get his own tea and biscuits.

"Erm, it all came to a head when I turned nine. Dad, Rose, and the kids all came over for my birthday and it turned to shit. There was a lot of things thrown, words said, and tears. I don't like talking about it. No one does. Dad took me away that day, saying he'd shoot Marian if she tried to stop him, and I believed it. I visited her once again when I was thirteen, but other than that I had no contact with her, and didn't see her again until the wedding," I finished, and Finn took a long, slow, sip of his tea.

"It wasn't all bad," I added, "But you know how it is."

"We tend to focus on the bad parts," Finn said understandingly, nodding.

I gave him a small smile, and took a sip of my own tea.

"Erm — is Marian the reason you got funny over family photos?" Finn asked carefully, and I let a long breath out through my nostrils.

"She — she didn't have any photos of me, but she always had her and everyone else she knew up in the walls," I explained, and Finn frowned, leaning over and placing a hand on my knee, then squeezing it.

"Now, Mr. Shelby, what was your life like?" I inquired, and Finn chuckled, dipping his biscuit into his tea.

"Can we finish our tea first?" He asked, and I nodded, grabbing one of my own biscuits.

•••

THIRD PERSON'S POV

You and Finn decided to celebrate your birthdays together, on the fifth of January, with a lunch at your house, in the garden, with everyone bringing a dish of food.

It was a joyous occasion, with quite a few people in attendance. Esme and her brood even attended it, to your surprise.

If you could make a day happen again, the fifth of January, 1927, would be your first choice.

§§§

Short lil chapter because it's sorta kinda a filler lol it was meant to go in a different direction but it didn't go in that direction so eh

Also I'll give you guys from five days to a week to pick baby names from the list in the previous chapter (voting ending on the 14th of July at the latest lol)

Also — If some of you eagle eyed readers noticed that the first set of baby names were all variants of Finn's name, there's a reason for that.

If you go back to chapter nine, you'll see a scene where the reader says that she would never name her child 'Finn Junior' if she was naming them after Finn, instead using his first name as a middle name or using a variant of his name for the first name 🤭

Anyways — The rest of the chapters between now and when I plan to start writing about season 5 may all be shorter than usual, due to being fillers/not being overly important to the plot, just being more of Finn and the Reader's relationship lol

Love y'all ❤️

- Sunflower x

TAGLIST

@meadownicolee

@toothlessmcleod

@im-your-possession

@bethabear12

@paisley-37

@shelundeadxxxx

@bluehairdie

@krillfromsky

@cucumberfingefsandwiches

NEXT PART

Part 36

[ragingpancake]

How To Woo Your Scientist In 100 Cookies or Less

Rodney has a secret admirer. Prompt fic. See end of fic for prompt. ~1800 words.

The first time it appears is the morning after the ridiculous mission to M5-X847 (more accurately described as ‘Planet of the Bat-Shit Crazy Natives and Their Ridiculous Trading Ceremonies’ in the privacy of Rodney’s own mind and in the not-so-nearly private mess hall whenever anyone else brings it up). It’s left sitting on his desk by his absolute favorite computer on a folded up napkin from the mess hall, taunting him.

He’s still staring at it as if it holds the secrets to recharging a ZPM, the cure for male pattern baldness and the name of the man Carly Simon wrote a song about when John ambles in for his obligatory weekly hour of light switch duty.

“Ooh, cookie,” he says. Rodney smacks his hand away with a squawk of indignation.

“Mine!”

“Well, are you gonna eat it or just stare at it?”

Rodney settles for the latter while John unfairly makes Atlantis and all of her Ancient Tech roll over for him like the complete slut she is. Besides, he argues silently, it wouldn’t be the first time someone’s tried to kill him with baked goods. It’s always better to be safe than sorry.

Fifty nine minutes and fifty eight seconds later, John plucks the cookie off of the napkin and pops it into his mouth, crunching loudly and spewing crumbs everywhere.

“What did you do that for?” Rodney bellows.

“Just makin’ sure it was safe and citrus free,” John says with a toothy grin. “Next time, you’ll know. Cya later buddy,” he says and ambles back out of the room without a care in the world.

“Next time? How do you know there will be a next time?” Rodney yells after him. “How do you know?”

—-

There is, oddly enough, a ‘next time’. The next morning when Rodney stumbles into his lab, bleary eyed after a late night watching terrible movies and eating horrifyingly greasy food (thank you, Daedalus) with John, there’s another cookie sitting innocently on his desk, silently begging to be eaten. He’s still worried about the possibility of an assassination attempt but he rationalizes that no one is really going to use precious chocolate chips just to murder him so he lifts it up, sniffs it and then shoves it greedily into his mouth.

Less than hour later, he’s still alive and wishing he had another.

—-

By the fifth cookie, Rodney stops checking for the possibility of citrus-laced baked goods. Clearly, someone finally appreciates his genius and has decided the best way to thank him is to ply him with delicious sweet treats.

For once, Rodney doesn’t complain.

——

“Another one?” John asks, eying the 30th cookie longingly. “How many is that now?”

“I don’t know. I’ve lost count,” Rodney lies.

John just snorts in response.

——

“This is getting out of hand,” Kavanagh gripes. “How come we’re not allowed to eat around the computers, but he never says anything about that damn cookie appearing every morning? Why doesn’t Sh—”

Radek steps on Kavanagh’s foot and Miko’s elbow catches him in the side. Kavanagh squeaks and then miraculously falls silent.

Rodney eyes his scientists suspiciously “Why doesn’t who do what?”

“Nothing,” Radek says. “Is nothing but idiotic mumblings of a jealous man.”

“Jealous. Yeah, right,” Kavanagh snorts under his breath.

Rodney is still not convinced and he spends the rest of the day trying to bully Kavanagh into telling him exactly what’s going on.

Kavanagh is gleeful at the idea of knowing something that Rodney doesn’t.

—

“Hey Rodney?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t you ever wonder who’s sending you cookies?”

Rodney eats the last bite of his cookie and glances over at John. “Not really, no. Don’t really care either, as long as they keep coming.”

“Oh.”

John goes back to touching uncatalogued Ancient tech while Rodney practically has oral sex with the left-over chocolate on his fingers. Rodney’s so caught up in his little delicious world that he doesn’t even notice when the device starts glowing in an ominous way.

“Uh… Rodney.”

Three seconds later, John’s unconscious on the floor and Rodney’s yelling into his headset for a medical team.

——

The next day, there is no cookie.

——

By the third cookieless day, Rodney decides that maybe Atlantis was the secret Cookie Fairy, because whoever it was is clearly pissed off that he almost killed John.

——

“I brought you something,” Rodney announces as soon as he palms the door to John’s room open. It’s the only room, other than his own that he’s ever been able to get into without resorting to screwing around with the crystals. He’s never questioned it, but now he’s grateful that John never had the urge to lock him out.

“Been stockpiling the goods from your Cookie Fairy?” John asks grumpily. Rodney cuts him slack because he knows he still has a killer headache from that damn piece of Ancient Tech.

“No,” Rodney says. “I uh, actually made these for you, and by ‘made these for you’, I really mean I bribed the kitchen staff with an extra ten minutes of hot water in the mornings but um, yeah. I got them. For you.”

John gives him an odd look and Rodney wonders if maybe there’s brain damage that Keller missed on the scans. Wouldn’t be the first time, he thinks bitterly.

“It’s just… you seemed to always be hanging around when I had my cookie and I uh… know that I wasn’t exactly willing to share with you even though I know chocolate chip is your favorite. But that’s not the point. The point… the point is… I screwed up that day. I should have been paying more attention to what you were doing and I wasn’t and I’m sorry and, and, and will you just say something and stop looking at me like that?”

John gives him a slight smile. “Thanks Rodney. You wanna watch a movie?”

For the first time since the cookies stopped coming, Rodney feels like he can breathe again.

——

The next morning, there’s still no cookie, though Rodney really didn’t expect there to be. He doesn’t even really care, because while he acquired the cookies for John the previous evening, he’s the one who ate almost the whole damn plate and if he never sees another chocolate chip cookie again, it’ll be too damn soon.

He has a lot of catching up to do because ever since John got hurt on his watch, he hasn’t exactly been able to concentrate on his work and damn if it hasn’t piled up already.

He powers up his computer and scowls at the stack of papers littering his workspace. Grabbing a handful, he flips through them and then discards them like the complete and utter trash they are. Kavanagh never could finish up the simplest of equations.

He’s just about to log in to the network with the corner of a piece of paper sticking from under his keyboard catches his eye. He frowns and pulls it out. The handwriting is vaguely familiar.

Meet me at the East Pier. 1800 hours. -Cookie Fairy

Rodney doesn’t know whether to be flattered or frightened. He just hopes that whoever the Cookie Fairy is, they’ve forgiven him as easily as John has.

——

The doors to the East Pier slide open with ease and Rodney can’t stop the nervous flutter in the pit of his stomach. The sun is already beginning to set in the Lantean sky, casting a gentle glow over the calm water. Leaning against the railing, there’s a familiar set of slouched shoulders and a crop of dark, messy hair.

“John?”

He turns and gives Rodney a nervous grin. “Hey buddy.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand. What are you… what are you doing here?”

He holds out the plate of chocolate chip cookies. “Uh… surprise?”

For once, the great Rodney McKay is completely speechless.

John clears his throat and shifts nervously from one foot to the next. He sets the plate of cookies down on the railing and rubs at the back of his reddening neck. “So I guess you… Uh, I guess this really isn’t what you were expecting.”

“No,” Rodney says dumbly, because he really wasn’t. Miko? Sure. Simpson? Maybe. But John Sheppard? John fucking Sheppard? Not in a million years. “Why?”

”M5-X847."

“The marriage ceremony? The one where they made you put stupid flowers in your hair and, and, and…”

“That’s the one.”

“But why?” Rodney asks, because he needs to know.

“Because I wanted it to be real,” John blurts out. His ears are absolutely flaming at this point and Rodney’s sure they’re going to spontaneously combust if they get any brighter. “I needed… I needed you to know and I didn’t know how to tell you so I…”

“You baked. For me.”

“Every day.”

“Until you got hurt.”

“Well, yeah. It was kind of difficult when standing long enough to get to the bathroom was a chore. I was… I wanted to tell you that day, but you didn’t… you said you didn’t want to know.”

“I was afraid it was Kavanagh or some other equally terrible person!”

“Why would Kavanagh bake you cookies?”

“I don’t know! If could have been part of some nefarious plan to clog my arteries and send me to an early grave via horrendous heart blockage!”

John just stares at him. “Seriously?”

“Hey, it could happen.”

“Rodney, shut up,” John says and then he’s suddenly there, his lips pressed to Rodney’s.

It’s wonderful and terrifying and so right.

Rodney makes a little noise of surprise against John before he relaxes into his the kiss, reaching up tentatively to card his fingers through his silly hair.

When they break apart, they’re both panting.

“Was that… was that okay?”

“I don’t know,” Rodney says. “I think… purely for research purposes, you understand, I’m going to need you to kiss me again.”

“No problem,” John says and he leans in to kiss Rodney again.

——

By the time they’ve finished kissing, they’re both shivering in the chilly night air. John’s hair is messier than usual and Rodney’s lips are red and swollen.

“Seriously though,” Rodney says, burrowing closer to John’s side as John drops an arm around his shoulders. “Cookies? Really?”

“I figured that at least when it came to you, the old saying was true. The way to your heart is definitely through your stomach.”

“So you thought you could woo me with cookies?”

“It worked though,” John says triumphantly.

Rodney grins. It worked.

“Hey, next time, you think you could do peanut butter?”

“Shut up, Rodney,” John says fondly

“Why don’t you make me?”

“My pleasure.”

Prompt

:One day you come into work and find a cookie mysteriously placed on your desk. Grateful to whoever left this anonymous cookie, you eat it. The next morning you come in and find another cookie. This continues for months until one day a different object is left--and this time there's a note.

[milkiane]

hey baee😩😩😩

I have arrived to give you a prompt/dialogue ✨😁

Could you do 😩ginny😩 with the dialogue “I know you’re in love with me.”

(I have been whoring after Ginny for the past week now ajshdjen)

until the world caves in

pairings: ginny weasley x reader

warnings: mentions of food

word count: 502

note: wrote this in a span of 30 mins. go off, liane <3

you and ginny were in the library, sitting at the farthest corner where the study table you were in was hidden by shelves and shelves of books.

the both of you were snacking on some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies you’ve baked in the kitchens one night while writing an essay for transfiguration.

ginny sighed, feeling her hand cramp from writing too long. she leaned against her chair and turned to look at you. your eyebrows were furrowed as you were thinking of the right words to use. a bitten cookie long forgotten on your left hand.

ginny smiled, feeling a great amount of adoration for you.

after staring at you for a while, her gaze on you still yet to be noticed, she leaned forward and took the cookie on your hand by her mouth. you snapped your head towards her, “oi! that was mine,” you whispered.

“it’s been in your hand for the past few minutes, might as well eat it if you weren’t gonna,” she shrugged, chewing on the sweet snack.

you sighed, turning your attention back to your ink-stained parchment as you dusted off the crumbs from your hand. you were rather certain that you were spewing rubbish by now, as you were feeling quite knackered.

ginny pursed her lips before an idea popped into her head. she grabbed a spare piece of parchment from her bag and started writing.

you were in the middle of writing a brilliant point as to why transfiguration is important in the field of study when a folded parchment was slipped from across the table.

you let out a hum of confusion, looking at ginny for answers but she ignored you, continuing her own essay instead.

you opened the note, hi :] -ginny

you huffed in amusement, a small smile occupying your lips. deciding to play along, you wrote back, hey :-) -y/n

you slipped it back to her and went back to your essay. a few seconds later, the paper was back at your side.

what are you doing? -ginny

our transfiguration essay, the same essay that you should be doing ;) -y/n

boring. are you single? -ginny

you let out a quiet laugh, dipping your quill in the ink and responded, i’m sorry, but no. i’m in a relationship with some sexy redhead <3 -y/n

*gasps* but which one? there are tons… -ginny

charlie weasley is quite the strapping lad, no? -y/n

ginny playfully slapped your arm while you laughed, biting your lip to prevent more noises.

such lies >:( i know you’re in love with me, l/n -ginny

oh? who says? -y/n

the promise rings on our fingers. and that blush on your cheeks ;) -ginny

you scrunch your nose up as you grinned at her, pecking her lips before writing back, my heart is yours to break, gin. -y/n

i won’t break yours if you don’t break mine. -ginny

never. and that’s a promise, because i’ll love you until the world caves in <3 -y/n

general taglist: @daltonacademia @inks-and-jinx @weasleyyy @oldschoolkiddo @accioweaslcy @inglourious-imagines @buckysbeloved @iwritesiriusly @fives-cup-of-coffee @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @band--psycho @marswilson24 l @miraclesoflove @chokemepansy @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

golden trio taglist: @blessednereid @oldschoolkiddo @sweetnspicysimp @cherie-draco @ch0kemedracomalfoy @acosmis-t @georgeweasleysbabe

join my taglist !

[daydreamstew]

If you’re still doing prompts !!! #80  “I didn’t drive all this way to say ‘hey’.” :)

Hello!! 💕 Thanks for the prompt! I wrote this today instead of thinking about the fact the finale is tonight! 😩

Idk how I feel about this, but it’s a booty call fic set in season 1 if Beth had kicked Dean out and he had stayed out...you can read it on AO3 here or on here if you want :)

80. “I didn’t drive all this way to say ‘hey’.”

Rio is in her kitchen.

That’s not really a shock because she did invite him here. And it’s not like he hasn’t been here before. But still. Rio is in her kitchen. Groaning out a pleased sound while eating one of the cinnamon cookies leftover from when she had baked them in a frenzy to send with the kids when they went to Judith’s with Dean earlier.

The cinnamon cookies that she’d eaten about six of that evening. When the door shut behind Danny, the last straggler, she ate a cookie. When she went to straighten up the kids’ rooms and found them empty. Another cookie. When she flipped through the channels and found nothing to watch. Time for a cookie! When Dean called to fill her in on how the kids were settling in and to try to guilt-trip her into letting him move back in. TWO cookies.

She’d needed to get a hold of herself before she ate any more. She’d needed a distraction. And a bourbon.

So she’d gone on Netflix and flipped on some early Grey’s Anatomy. She wanted something juicy so she picked the episode where Izzie cuts the LVAD wire because she always loved Denny, but then all of a sudden Meredith and Derek were having passionate, adulterous sex in an exam room. And Beth got swept up in the tension of the argument about the way McDreamy looks at her and how he’d pulled her panties down and the way they had just wanted to devour each other.

And, well, it had gotten to her. And then she had been hungry for something other than cookies and she’d had a couple of bourbons and so what if she’d texted the one person in her phone that had come close to looking at her that way?

B: Hey

R: Yeah?

B: Can you stop by? It’s urgent.

R: 15 min

And, true to his word, he’d been there fifteen minutes and one bourbon later. And now he was in her kitchen, standing on the other side of her island while she leaned against the sink, finishing up the cookie. Licking the crumbs off his pink lips and looking at her expectantly.

“Ain’t you got some urgent business you gotta tell me about?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

And, oh god, she had not thought this through. He has no idea why she summoned him here tonight. What was she thinking? She doesn’t know how to follow through on a--a booty call. And that’s what this is, isn’t it? She’s never done this before. She’s a booty-call virgin!

And she’s wearing leggings and an old tank top! Aren’t you supposed to get all dolled up to try to seduce the person? She only has on the mascara and lip gloss she’d swiped on to go to the grocery store earlier to grab some more flour for the cookies. And then she looks down and realizes that there’s evidence of her stress-baking left behind on her shirt, flour coating her beat-up tank top like a big sign that says “I’m an unsexy mess.”

She puts on her best prim smile, pushing through her doubts.

“Yes of course. Very urgent,” she chirps, lying out of her ass.

He grunts something out, seemingly not convinced of its importance.

“Um, did you want another first?” she asks, pointing to the plate of cookies and trying to buy some time. “I could make you some coffee!”

She turns towards the coffee machine and starts to fiddle with it, but, shit, she hadn’t thrown out the grounds that morning. She’s about to hastily rectify that when she hears movement and turns to find Rio circling the island to stand across from her.

He’s looking at her with his head tilted, face neutral.

“Hey,” she breathes out.

And, god, what is she doing? Greeting him like he hasn’t been here for 5 minutes already. But he’s so much closer now and she can smell his cologne, see some stray lint on his peacoat.

He breathes out a chuckle, looks down, and smiles before looking back up.

“Yeah, I didn’t drive all this way to say ‘hey’ and have snack time, darlin’, so I’m gonna need you to spit it out,” he says, impatient and sneering.

And, okay, that’s dramatic. It only took him 15 minutes to get here.

“Spit what out?” she squeaks.

She really should’ve come up with an actual excuse for him to be here. But she’s just intoxicated enough by the combination of the bourbon and his scent that coherent lies have become inconceivable.

He takes another step forward, and she has to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. He seems so unaffected by her presence. Oh god, what if she had made it up in her head? What if all the teasing flirting was manipulation? What if he never looked at her the way she thought he did?

“What it is that you need,” he answers, voice low and husky and delicious.

She’s about to call it off—maybe fake getting an emergency text from Annie as an excuse—not wanting to risk the rejection. But then. Then his hooded eyes dip down from her eyes to her neck and down to where her cleavage peeks above the neck of her tank.

Her heart rate picks up as she watches him lick and bite at his bottom lip as his gaze drifts down the rest of her curves the way she always thought it did.

She hadn’t made it up. 

She swallows and pushes her chest out a little more, lets her glossy lips fall open in a subtle pout.

His eyes return to hers and he rasps out, “Ain’t seen you in something like this before.”

He reaches out and tugs at the hem of her shirt. He’s looking at her in a ratty tank top like she’d put on her best lingerie for him. She shivers and lets out a breath from her mouth.

His eyes glance down to her pouting lips and that’s all the encouragement she needs.

She tentatively leans forward and up slightly onto her tiptoes and captures his lower lip between hers, kissing him softly.

He feels him stiffen for a second before he melts into it and grips onto her hips, pulling her toward him, deepening the kiss.

And his hands. His big hands that she touches herself to. Thinking about them touching her. Those hands are all over her, kneading at her ass, and tangled in her hair and gently feeling up her breasts like he if he’s too eager, it may all stop.

And his mouth. His lips and his teeth and his tongue that she always imagines licking and nipping all over her body and down between her thighs. They’re battling with her lips and teeth and tongue.

It occurs to her that she hasn’t kissed someone other than Dean in more than 20 years. It occurs to her that it had never once felt like this. She feels like she’s on fire. Feels the heat everywhere. But especially low in her gut. Wetness pooling between her legs. 

He’s groaning into her mouth, a pleased sound. Not unlike the one he had released when he was eating the cookie that she can taste on his tongue.

And she could kiss him for hours, days, years of her life, but she needs to breathe. So she pulls back and gasps in air while he does the same, hands gliding under her tank top to feel at the soft skin of her waist.

“Damn,” he breathes out.

“Yeah,” she agrees.

“This the urgent business you called me over here for?” he asks, breathless and teasing her, pinching at her waist.

“Shut up,” she responds, lurching forward to kiss him again.

She nibbles on his lower lip and slips her tongue in his mouth and pulls a moan out of him while she drags her nails over his head. She drifts her hand down from his black t-shirt covered stomach to his groin to discover the hard line of his erection. He grunts into her mouth as the length of him twitches against her hand.

She wasn’t the only one that was hungry.

[adenei]

A Granger Weasley Christmas

Some tooth rotting fluff! I’m not sure I could have fit in any additional tropes if I tried, but for those anon requests, here it is in it’s full glory!

The bonus smut chapter I wrote that ties into this fic can be found here, should you wish to read it 

I hope everyone who celebrates has a very Merry Christmas! 🎄

**********************

Hermione stepped in through the front door of her home as she placed her bag by the door and hung her coat in the closet. She shook off the snowflakes that had fallen onto her hair as she chose to apparate home and walk up the lane, relishing in the peaceful, quiet Christmas Eve night. Her work at the Ministry had finally been finished, and now she could enjoy the next week off with her family. 

“I’m home!” she called as she finished putting her things away. She heard laughter and smelled something rather sweet coming from the kitchen. Hermione walked in to find Ron, Rose and Hugo working at the kitchen counter. Gingerbread pieces were piled high with white frosting acting as glue, and there were colored candies all over the kitchen counter. 

“What’s this?” she asked as she walked further into the kitchen.

“The school sent home a gingerbread house kit for families to do over Christmas hols. The kids have been begging to start working on it, and I could only hold them off for so long. I thought you’d be home an hour ago,” Ron explained while giving Hermione a look.

“I know, I’m sorry! I just needed to make sure things were wrapped up at the Ministry, and now I don’t have to think about work for the next week.” Hermione smiled as she kissed each of the kids on the tops of their heads. She ignored Ron’s eyeroll at her ‘not thinking about work’ comment. “I’m going to go change and then I’ll be back down to help, alright?”

“Okay, Mummy!” Hugo said as Rose nodded. She was far too focused to speak as she was placing a gingerbread square just right so that it stuck to the frosting and layered the way she wanted it to.

By the time Hermione had returned, Rose and Hugo had constructed a towering structure that was slightly lopsided, but amazingly held together. She had a feeling Ron may have slipped a bit of magic in to keep it sturdy to avoid disappointing the kids. 

‘Look, Mum, look!” said Hugo in an overly excited voice. 

“Can you tell what it is? Can you?” Rose added.

Hermione took another look at the tall gingerbread structure, but before she could guess, Hugo spluttered, “It’s the Burrow!”

“Hugo!” Rose sounded upset.

“Oh, my goodness! It is, isn’t it? How clever!” she said quickly, to avoid a meltdown.

“It was my idea!” Rose said.

“And I helped make it lopsided, like the Burrow is,” Hugo added proudly.

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh as she listened to the two of them explain which parts were theirs, and which parts they worked together on. She sat next to her husband as the kids set to work adding details with the frosting and the various candies. She wasn’t sure if more ended up on the display or in their mouths.

“I don’t suppose you had anything to do with enchanting the gingerbread house so that it hasn’t crumbled, hmm?” Hermione whispered into Ron’s ear.

“What they don’t know, won’t hurt them. Besides, we’ll take a picture of their masterpiece, and the magic should hold for a few days anyway.”

“Brilliant thinking. I take it I missed dinner?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, but I’ve left your plate in the microwave. You just need to heat it up,” Ron said as he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Hermione watched the kids finish their Gingerbread Burrow as she ate her meal, and then noticed the clock. “Oh my, it’s almost eight. You know what that means!”

“Christmas Eve presents?!” Rose and Hugo shouted excitedly.

Hermione and Ron laughed. “Yes, Christmas Eve presents, but only after you clean up this mess. We’ll make sure the Burrow is displayed properly on the hutch, how’s that?” Hermione said as she carefully moved the kid’s creation.

The kids nodded as they began picking up their mess. Ron had moved the garbage can closer so they would make less of a mess transferring the piping bags of frosting and cookie crumbles. Soon enough, the counter was rid of the remaining sweets, and Ron was scourgifying it clean.

 “Alright, kids. To the living room!” Ron said in an energetic tone as he and Hermione followed them.

“Oh, no!” Rose said. “Dad, the lights went out!”

“Ah, so they have. Must be one loose bulb somewhere. Well, maybe we can all work together to fix the lights if it’s not too late.”

“Before we set out cookies for Father Christmas?” Rose asked hopefully.

“Only if it’s not too late,” Hermione chimed in. “Now, here go ahead and open these.” She handed Rose and Hugo identically wrapped packages.

“Yay! This is my favorite part about Christmas Eve!” Hugo said enthusiastically. Nothing could ruin the holidays for their youngest child.

Both Rose and Hugo excitedly unwrapped their presents to find matching Christmas pajamas. The shirts had cute reindeer on them and the bottoms were a checkered red, white and black pattern.

“Thanks, Mum and Dad! Should we wear them to bed tonight?” Rose asked. 

“That’s the plan, Rosie,” Ron said as he reached out his arms to accept a hug from his little girl. “Now, what do you say we get you two cleaned up in the bath so you don’t get any frosting or gingerbread crumbs on those new pajamas?”

~~~~~~

Ron led them up to the bathroom as Hermione picked up the wrappings and joined them soon enough. For once, bath time did not take as long as expected because the kids were too excited to help fix the tree and get the cookies they’d baked earlier that day set out for Father Christmas. He quickly found himself chasing two kids in matching pajamas down the stairs and into the living room where Hermione was waiting for them. 

“Do we still have time to help with the lights, Dad?” Rose asked. Hugo was showing off his best puppy dog eyes and pouty lip to help convince their parents to say yes. 

“I think if we all take a different section of the tree, then we may be able to solve the Christmas tree mystery. Hmmm, now who should take the top section? Hugo, you’re tall enough, right?” Ron joked as he tickled his son. 

“No, Dad, that’s your job! Rose and I can work on the bottom!” 

“Alright, alright, I suppose you’re right. Mum can take the middle section, yeah?” Ron asked as Hermione nodded and the family of four set to work. 

Hermione half suspected the kids to grow tired of the task fairly quickly, and honestly, if it wasn’t the night before Christmas, she’d have just suggested going out to purchase another string of lights to replace it with. Unfortunately, it was too late for that. Surely if they couldn’t figure it out, they could use magic to fix it, right?

As if on cue, Hugo asked worriedly, “Dad? What if we can’t fix it? Will Father Christmas not be able to find our house?” 

“Hugo, that wouldn’t make Father Christmas skip our house! Some of my friend’s families don’t even keep their lights on all night.” Rose argued with her brother.

“W-what? But he needs the light to see! How else would he know where to put the presents and which stockings to fill?” Hugo questioned.

Hermione gave Ron a quick look. They were too young to be having these questioning conversations about Father Christmas, but Hugo was so intuitive about everything that she shouldn’t be surprised. Ron returned her worried look with a reassuring one of his own. Hopefully he had a plan.

“You see, Hugo, Father Christmas is magical, too. I can tell you that he appreciates when the lights are on, but he won’t skip the house if they’re off or broken. Don’t worry, as long as you’ve been good this year, you have nothing to worry about!”

Hugo stopped checking the lights as he bit his lip. He was clearly worried that maybe he hadn’t been as good as he thought. 

“Hugo, don’t overthink it, honey, I’m sure Father Christmas won’t forget you. Remember, as long as you believe, you shall receive.” Hermione smiled at her son, who looked a bit relieved as he went back to trying his lights. 

They worked in silence for a little while, and all of a sudden the middle section lit up brightly again.

“I found it, I found it!” exclaimed Rose.

“Great job, sweetheart! And great teamwork everyone,” Ron said quickly when he noticed Hugo’s disappointment that it wasn’t him to fix the tree. “Should we go set the cookies out and then get ready for bed?”

This helped take Hugo’s mind off the tree as he jumped up and ran to the kitchen. “Mum, look! I made this one especially for Father Christmas!” They’d made classic sugar cookie cut outs that were caked with a heavy layer of icing. Hugo’s was a green Christmas tree with little globs that she assumed were ornaments.

“Wow, Hugo, you worked very hard on that! I’m sure he’ll love it!”

“Mine’s an angel, but I decorated his face to look like a gnome,” said Rose with a triumphant smile. “I got the idea because Dad told us about when Uncle George and Uncle Fred put a gnome on top of the tree at the Burrow when they were growing up.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at the memory as Ron grinned, clearly happy that the kids had enjoyed his story. As they were arranging the cookies on the plate, Hugo asked, “What was your first Christmas together like, Mum?”

Hermione looked at her son. “Do you mean our first Christmas when we were together? Or..”

“No, your first Christmas after you met!” Hugo said excitedly.

“Why don’t we make that your bedtime story?” Ron suggested. “Rose, do you want to hear the story, too? We’ll tell it in Hugo’s room. Go brush your teeth and we’ll meet you up there in a few minutes.”

“What are we going to tell them?” Hermione asked Ron as they heard the kids running up the stairs.

“I reckon we should probably tell them the truth..” Ron said cheekily, earning a playful swat from his wife.

“You know what I mean,” Hermione said. 

“Well, we can explain that you went home, and Harry and I stayed at Hogwarts. Pretty uneventful, honestly.”

“Better than telling them we spent second year together at Hogwarts so we could use polyjuice potion to spy on Draco,” Hermione reasoned.

Ron burst into laughter. “Can you imagine the kid’s reactions if we told them you polyjuiced into a cat?”

“We are never telling them that story! Some things are better left in the past.”

“There’s a lot that they probably shouldn’t know about our Hogwarts years,” Ron said.

“Yes, and hopefully Neville won’t give too much away, either.” Hermione said.

“It’s not Neville I’m worried about,” Ron muttered as he motioned for them to head up the stairs.

They walked into Hugo’s room and sat on the edge of the bed. “So you want to hear about our first Christmas, eh?” Ron said as Rose and Hugo nodded. “Well, I’m afraid it’s not a very interesting story.”

“Why not?” Rose asked.

“Well, it was our first year at Hogwarts, and I went home to spend Christmas with my family, and your dad stayed at Hogwarts to spend Christmas with Harry since he wasn’t going home,” Hermione explained.

“You didn’t get any presents for each other?” Rose asked with a disappointed look on her face.

“Oh, I got your father some chocolates from Honeydukes,” Hermione said.

“And I got your Mum a quill from Scrivenshaft’s. It wasn’t much, but we were eleven,” Ron added.

“Twelve,” Hermione corrected him.

“Well, what about the story of how you met, then?” Hugo asked.

“Now, that’s a story!” Ron said with a chuckle.

“Ohh, tell us, tell us!” Rose begged.

“Please?” added Hugo.

“Alright, alright, settle down,” Hermione told them. “Well, we met on the train at Hogwarts. I was helping Neville find his toad, and I stumbled upon the compartment that Uncle Harry and Dad were in. He was quite rude to me, actually,” Hermione said playfully. “Tried to do a bit of magic, but it didn’t quite work as intended.”

“Yes, and then your Mum decided to tell me I had dirt on my nose and left,” Ron continued. “We didn’t get on very well in the beginning. A couple months in, she tried to help me cast wingardium leviosa, and I called her a nightmare.”

Rose gasped. “You didn’t!” 

“Did you apologize? You never let Rose or me call each other names!” Hugo seemed appalled.

“He did apologize eventually,” Hermione said. “I was so upset that I went to hide in a bathroom and missed the Halloween feast.”

“So she missed the announcement that there was a troll roaming the castle,” Ron said nonchalantly.

Both kid’s mouths dropped open. “A troll was roaming the castle? Aren’t they dangerous?” asked Hugo.

“Do they let trolls loose every Halloween?” Rose asked excitedly. Merlin, they had a Gryffindor on their hands if Ron had ever seen one.

“No, no! It wasn’t planned. All the kids were sent back to their common rooms and the teachers went to go find it. Well, Uncle Harry and I remembered that someone said Hermione was crying in the bathroom, and we figured we should go tell her. It was a good thing we did because the troll went right into that bathroom,” Ron went on.

“And you locked him in there with me!” Hermione interrupted.

“Yeah, but we went in after you when we heard you scream!” Ron defended.

“Yes, just before he was about to get me!”

“What happened?” Rose asked.

“What did you do?” Hugo said with wide eyes.

“Well, Harry jumped on the troll’s back to try and stop him, and ended up getting his wand stuck up the troll’s nose. I tried to throw a pipe at it, and then I managed to cast wingardium leviosa and levitated the club out of the troll’s hand.” Ron paused to make sure he had the kid’s full attention. “And then, the club knocked the troll on the head, and he passed out.”

“We were just about to get out of there when the professors found us and asked what happened. I covered for them, telling Professor McGonagall I thought I could take the troll on by myself, but they wouldn’t let me.”

“You did what? Rose asked.

“After that, your Uncle Harry and I decided to keep her around. She turned out to be a really great friend when she wasn’t nagging us to do our homework,” Ron said with a smile as he put his arm around Hermione and kissed her temple.

“Ewww,” Rose said.

Hermione laughed as she said, “I think it’s time for bed now. If you stay up too late, Father Christmas may not make it. You’ve got to be asleep for him to make his rounds.”

They kissed Hugo goodnight, and repeated the routine with Rose in her room before shutting their doors.

“I’m exhausted,” Hermione said.

“And yet, our night is just beginning,” Ron said with glee.

****************

“No, Ron, the bikes should be in the back by the window! Not in the front. Bigger presents in the back, smaller presents in the front,” Hermione chided.

“I still don’t see why Hugo and Rose are getting bikes to begin with. They’re magical, they should have brooms!” Ron shot back.

“They have brooms already!” 

“Yeah, but Hugo’s is a toy broomstick and Rose has got my old Cleansweep from school.”

“Next year that will be Rose’s big present, but this year it’s a bicycle for each of them. They have muggle friends at school, and they need to be able to play with them like muggles. Besides, learning to ride a bike is much like learning to fly a broom, and it will be a good skill for the kids to have.”

“If you say so..” Ron watched as Hermione finished rearranging all of the presents under the tree. He folded his arms and shook his head as he chuckled to himself. “You’re barmy, you know that, right? The kids aren’t going to remember the layout, you know.”

“Yes, but I will. And you secretly love it. You’re not fooling anyone,” Hermione said as she brushed her hands together indicating she was done, and walked over to him.

Ron wrapped her in his arms and leaned in to kiss her. Even after fifteen years together, his heart still skipped a beat every time their lips touched. Hermione seemed to melt into him, probably from a mixture of exhaustion and an eagerness for his affection. With two kids running around the house, it was a struggle to find time to be intimate with each other.

“Shall we head to bed, then?” he whispered against her lips.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Hermione responded in kind.

*******************

Hermione woke with a start at 4:30 in the morning, and tugged at Ron’s arm. “Ron!” she hissed. “The cookies! We forgot to eat the cookies!”

“Wha-?” Ron said in his still drowsy state. 

“The cookies are sitting on the counter,” she repeated as she hopped out of bed and pulled her bathrobe on. She let out a grunt of frustration as she saw Ron’s head hit the pillow again. “Honestly…” 

Hermione checked both the kid’s rooms to ensure they were still sound asleep before she tiptoed to the kitchen. The cookie eating was always Ron’s job. The kids had a knack for layering the frosting a little too thick, and Hermione couldn’t stomach all that sugar. She took a deep breath and picked up Hugo’s cookie first, and took the biggest bite she could muster so it would look like it was eaten. 

Hermione placed one half back on the plate and took the other out of her mouth, nibbling on a tiny corner before making her way over to the bin. She opened it and stuffed the cookie as far down as she could, strategically placing some discarded wrapping paper over it so the kids wouldn’t see. 

Then,she went back to the plate of cookies and panicked. What do I do, what do I do? She thought. Hermione spotted a piece of parchment on the counter and had an idea. She grabbed it and began scribbling in the messiest scrawl she could manage:

Rose and Hugo,

Happy Christmas! You’ve been so good this year. I hope you enjoy your gifts! Thank you for the cookies. They were delicious! The angel gnome was too creative to eat - I’ve never seen anything like it. Be good for your Mum and Dad and I can’t wait to receive your letters next year.

Father Christmas

There! Crisis averted. Hermione took a deep breath as she quietly made her way back up the stairs, and was hoping for a few more hours of rest before the kids woke up. Ron was already back to snoring.

****************

“Rosie, look! Look! A bicycle! Wow!” Hugo gushed as he skidded to a halt in front of the tree, Rose hot on his heels.

Ron and Hermione were cuddled up on the couch, mugs of coffee in hand as they watched the kids open up their presents. Both kids received a few books that Hermione knew the kids would enjoy, but aside from that, their presents couldn’t have differed more. 

In addition to the books and bicycle, Rose received a quaffle, broom care kit, and the furby she was begging for because everyone at school was asking for them. Ron had no idea why it was the hit gift of the year. They looked so creepy, and if an owl was what Rose wanted, he’d have gotten her one, but Hermione had insisted.

Hugo’s gifts included a small magnetic chess set, the latest lego set, and a playstation console. It was a used one, but would do well for Hugo who only liked a few certain games. Rose’s temper had caused an uncontrolled magic accident where their former console had shorted out and wasn’t playable anymore. Hugo was especially excited to have another gently used version to replace the other one. 

The kids received socks and a board game from Father Christmas, and their stockings were filled to the brim with both Muggle and Magical sweets. They thanked their parents profusely, and grabbed their own gifts that they’d created for their parent’s gift. Hugo had made an ornament with painted puzzle pieces glued together, encircling his school picture. Ron and Hermione both gushed over how creative it was.

Rose had made a Christmas tree out of string that was wrapped around small nails protruding from a small slab of wood, with the words “Merry and Bright” scribbled in her handwriting underneath. Aunt Audrey had helped her make it apparently, and Rose was very proud of the finished work. Hermione got up to put it on the mantle and Ron hung Hugo’s ornament on the tree. 

The kids hugged their parents. “Can we ride our bikes?” Hugo asked hopefully. 

Ron laughed. “No, Hugo, there’s too much snow on the ground. We’ll put the bikes in the shed, but I promise on the first nice day, we’ll get right out there. Why don’t you bring some of your presents up to your room and play while Mum and I make breakfast. You too, Rose.”

Rose nodded and began gathering as much as she could carry towards the stairs. Hugo followed her as Ron summoned his gift for Hermione from under the tree. “You didn’t think I’d forget your gift, now, did you?” he said with a smile. 

He handed her a small box, which she opened gently. It was a small jewelry box, which she opened to reveal a small silver bracelet with four stones. The two in the middle were sapphire and aquamarine. Next to the sapphire was a blue topaz stone, and next to the aquamarine, an alexandrite stone. It was stunning, and Hermione knew without explanation that it was their family represented by their birthstones.

“It’s beautiful, Ron, I love it,” she said as she clasped the bracelet around her wrist and then leaned in for a kiss.

She summoned his gift next and handed it to him. It was a simple envelope, and didn’t seem like much. He opened the envelope to reveal a weekend getaway for just the two of them next month in Egypt. It was the one place Ron had been that Hermione had not, and he’d always wanted to take her there. Once they’d started their family, opportunities for travel had all but vanished, so this was her way of helping him make good on his promise.

“Wicked!” Ron said. “I finally get to show you around Egypt, and it’s a holiday for just the two of us? I hope things are still the same as when I was twelve,” he said with a laugh. “This is brilliant, love, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Shall we get on with breakfast, then?” Hermione asked. “I’m sure the gifts won’t keep them occupied forever.”

“Right you are,” Ron agreed as he led her into the kitchen.

“I still stand by my statement from last night. This is still the best Christmas ever,” Hermione told him as she leaned against the counter, watching him get ingredients out.

“I’d expect nothing less.”

[cordonian-literature]

wip wednesday :)

hi y’all so i wasn’t tagged (whoops broke the rules) and it’s still kinda early in the day but i wanted to make this post because i’ve been working on a few other fics and wanted to share :)

i’ve been finishing up Aftermath - the reason it’s taking me so long to post chapters is because i initially had a very sad ending planned. i weeped when i was rereading it because i’ve gotten emotionally attached to the characters (what a surprise) and am now rewriting a happier ending. i think there’s like... 3 chapters left (don’t quote me on that, i’m a mess and it could change, but its unlikely).

there’s also two other fic ideas that i had. the first one kinda throws canon out the window - but there are still some elements, like Bertrand and Savannah’s relationship (though it’s extremely altered), the assassination with Olivia’s parents, Godfrey & Barthelemy’s treason... it’s just changed, like Queen Eleanor’s story is different, Leo doesn’t abdicate, Liam and Drake never really became best friends, and MC (Klara/Claire Brooks) leads a double life, keeping both men (and families) away from each other

the second one throws TRH 3 in the trash (even though it already is kinda trash, haha). this would take place during the last chapter of TRH 2 and throw the whole vote stuff out the window - because the farther we go with that, the less it makes sense. basically, Auvernal kidnaps the heir, Barthelemy is involved in it, and Liam and MC (i’m keeping her as Riley Brooks for this one) along with the gang do everything they can to get her back (obviously why wouldn’t they). i thought it would be interesting putting a part of it in the heir’s point of view, since those were kinda funny in some of the recent chapters. nothing too dark or serious (i mean yeah the heir getting kidnapped is serious, but you know what i mean. besides that, there are no major trigger warnings)

both these fics will most likely flop, but i had fun with these ideas and wanted to share

so here we go

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The Aftermath - Chapter 32

When Bastien enters, his eyes widen as they rest on Boris. He gives Olivia a look.

“Drake,” she tells him, hoping that would be enough of an answer. Bastien frowns. Olivia didn’t know why Drake had done this either. The fool hadn’t given her any information as to what this man had done. Where was she even supposed to start?

Now she was really wishing she had called Jacob to give her a background check.

“So,” she begins, pacing in front of Boris. Bastien was at full attention, closely watching both of them. “What happened between you and Drake?”

Boris spits blood to the opposite side of the room. It drips down the wall. “Call the bastard in here. Tell him to explain.” His accent is thick and his voice is tried.

I probably should, she thinks to herself.

Bastien gives Olivia another look. She nods at him.

“Let us shift the conversation,” Bastien begins. “Can I ask how long you’ve known Lady Riley or her late husband?”

“How is that important?” Boris questions.

“Just curious.” Bastien’s voice remains level.

Boris sighs, then leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. “Potter. I met him in college. He introduced me to Riley-”

“I’m sorry,” Bastien interrupts him. “Who is ‘Potter’?”

“The lovely Theodore Blaise.” Boris lets out a rueful chuckle. “You have not seen him in person? The idiot looks like Harry Potter. Stupid glasses, stupid hair.”

“Alright,” Bastien stops him again. “Continue. When did he introduce you to Riley?”

“New York. That one year. I was visiting before I had to go to... Switzerland? Sweden? One of the two. It was lifetime ago. Can’t remember everything.” He pauses to look around the room. “She was... with your King. We saw her in the park. Theo wanted to see her. We waited for the king to leave her before he went up to her hotel.”

Olivia knew that he was talking about the last night Riley had been with the court. But Boris was drawing out the conversation. She didn’t like how slow Bastien was approaching this. Olivia wanted to draw a knife — she had a new one she was itching to use — and force the answers out of him.

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Until the End - Prologue

A/N: also i made a thing for this series. it’s not a moodboard. idk what its called. like a banner or whatever? i felt creative and made it. i’ll probably end up making a moodboard too. there are three parts of the series, each part has seven/eight chapters. anyway this looks kinda wack i might not even use it

As we near the stairs, Olivia Nevrakis chases after Maxwell Beaumont, who tumbles down the steps.

“Why are you running?!” Olivia cries after the boy, a long object in her hand.

“Because you have a stick!” he cries after almost tripping over his short, chubby legs.

“What am I gonna do, hit you with it?”

“YES?!” Maxwell screams, a confused and fearful tone in his voice.

As the two reach the bottom of the stairs, Liam emerges from another corridor, laughing after his friends. His hair is a whorl on his head, and his cheeks are flushed pink.

“Hello, Mother!” he says. My son hugs my waist, then reaches to hug his father, but Constantine has already walked on.

I take the boy’s hand and we follow after the King. Near the entrance of the palace stands a man in guard’s uniform, a woman in a denim dress, and two small children.

“Eleanor, Liam,” Constantine begins. “I would like for you two to be introduced to a new member of our security team. Jackson Walker, his wife Bianca, and their children, Drake and Savannah.”

“A pleasure, Your Majesties,” Jackson says as he and his wife bow respectfully. The little girl blinks up at me while Drake looks between Liam and I.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Liam!” My son holds out his hand to Drake.

Constantine audibly coughs. Liam’s hand falls to his side, and his smile falls as well. I knew that the differences in status would not allow Liam to interact with the boy so improperly, but they are just children. I didn’t think there was a reason for such excessive formality.

Bianca slightly nudges her son. In a monotone voice, Drake greets, “Nice to meet you, Prince Liam.”

Liam’s expression lifts. I send a smile in Bianca’s direction, and she hesitantly returns it. Jackson holds eye contact with me a moment longer, a wide grin stretching his face.

Constantine grabs our attention again. “Jackson, you will be primarily working on my wife’s security team. Now if you’ll excuse us, we are expected at dinner. My head of security, Bastien, will lead you through the rest of your orientation. After dinner, you’ll be able to speak to my wife and receive any orders she has for you.”

“Yes, Sire,” Jackson bows his head again, and Constantine leads us away.

Godfrey and his family, along with the Beaumonts, Olivia, and Leo are already seated. They all stand quickly as Constantine comes into the room, giving polite bows.  

The moment we sit, there’s a flurry of activity as the servants set our plates in front of us. Adelaide sips on her wine absently. Annabelle fusses over Maxwell, who has cookie crumbs on his fingers and face. Madeleine attempts to get Leo’s attention, but he laughs with Bertrand, the boys giving each other impish smiles. Olivia converses with Liam, taking on a gentle demeanor compared to how she behaved with Maxwell.

“Hostilities between Monterisso and Auvernal are increasing by the day,” I hear Godfrey mention to Constantine.

“The whole of Europe expects them to break out in war,” Barthelemy adds.

“Monterissian and Auvernese citizens anticipate some sort of peace treaty,” Godfrey continues. The men speak as if they are one unit, with one mind. “But other nations have already begun taking sides.”

“The King of Hidar is siding with Monterisso.” Barthelemy motions for a servant to bring him more wine. “But there are rumors that he is only doing so after receiving threats.”

“Most nations are waiting for Cordonia and Monaco for their decisions for who to ally with.”

When Barthelemy and Godfrey finish filling Constantine’s ears, they return to the food on their plates, staring down as if nothing else in the world concerned them. Constantine chews slowly, visibly considering their words.

“Monterisso has always kept a neutral face when it comes to Cordonian issues,” the King mentions. “They have never asked or hinted towards alliance. They are not many nations who ally with them at all.”

“So you must admit,” Barthelemy finishes chewing, “that allying with them instead of Auvernal makes a bad impression—”

“—and reduces the chance of alliances with other nations,” Godfrey finishes with him.

“How so?” I speak up. The three men turn their heads to look at me. No one else at the table pays attention to the conversation, but as their eyes burn in my direction — aggressive looks from the Dukes, while my husband raises an eyebrow at me — I want to take back my words.

But I do no such thing. After more than seven years of marriage, I had become accustomed to Godfrey and Barthelmey shutting down the advice I gave to my husband. This instance is no different.

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The Lion and the Heir - short series - Prologue

A/N: just as a heads up, i laughed while writing this. like i wrote this just for a good laugh and wanted to share. my friend sent me a writing prompt about a kid’s wild imagination and she thought it was funny and sent it to me (i sent her this same passage and we both laughed our heads off reading parts of it) so what i’m trying to say is that thinking this is terrible and cringe-worthy is understandable - i cringed at this myself and am very scared to post this lol, and might not even continue it. yes i made a moodboard thing. yes i laughed while making it. goodbye.

"Is everything well, Mommy?" I ask. Instead of answering me, again she attempts to silence me! I repeat my question, but this time the man tells me to silent myself.

Did they not know who they were speaking to? Perhaps I was interrupting something. Was there a lesson to be learned somewhere in this? I wish that Daddy were present at this meeting. Though most of his explanations were gibberish, he would at least attempt to make me understand.

The man walks towards me. He reaches his hands out to carry me, but I do not know this man! And he was quite stinky! I do not like him. I smack his hands away, and he takes a step back.

"With all due respect," I try to explain to him, "please introduce yourself before any forward actions. They are most unwelcoming. Your Princess does not appreciate this behavior."

He turns to my suspicious mother and says something in gibberish. I frown, for the language barrier does not mean that my subjects may disobey my wishes in such a manner!

Suspicious Mommy takes off the shield that was over her eyes. I find that it is NOT Mommy! Though they look similar, their differences are too contrasting. This woman's eyes were a tad sharper. She was too aware of me, and did not seem comfortable in my presence.

"Shhh sh shhh," she goes again, trying to pick me up, but I allow my short legs to fall from under me. My behind hits the mattress, and I feel my friend, General Lion, against my hand.

"Is everything well, Your Highness?" my trusty General says to me. "Is there anything I can do to be of service?"

"Dismiss this woman from my presence!" I command him.

"But... but that is Mommy!" he cries.

This woman was good in her disguise. She had fooled my trusted advisor!

"Believe me, General, it is not!" I tell him. "She has fooled us!"

"And she is trying to take you away?" he observes.

"Yes!" I am suddenly aware of what is happening. The woman begins to reach for me. "Quick!" I say, panic swelling in my chest. I had to do something about this, but all my heart is telling me to do is cry! I have to take more serious measures than that! "What am I to do?"

"Uh... uh..." General Lion looks around the crib, before he reaches out to me. "Take a hold of my paw!"

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putting my Aftermath taglist because that’s the only one i have :) - y’all can see what’s happening in the next chapter & these other fics. if you’re interested in any (besides Aftermath) let me know! if you don’t interact or anything, i’ll leave you on the Aftermath taglist and won’t remove or add you anywhere :)

(also, people probably know this but just a gentle reminder, the only reason i don’t reply to comments is because this is a sideblog. i see them all though, so don’t worry. i just don’t want to confuse people by replying from my main blog or anything :) anyway let me stop trailing off)

@captain-kingliamsqueen​ @gkittylove99​ @lovablegranny​ @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful​ @mom2000aggie​ @kingliam2019​ @queenrileyrose​ @shanzay44​ @cordonianroyalty​ @hopefulmoonobject​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @twinkle-320​ @amandablink​ @texaskitten30​ @pens-girl-87​ @ladyangel70​ @sanchita012​ @cordonianprincess​ @cordonia-gothqueen​ @pink-diamond13​ @queenwalton​​ @yourmajesty09​ @alj4890​​ @choicesbutterfly​​​ 

^if anyone from this list wants to do the WIP Wednesday thing, feel free!!

[hopeshoodie]

So I was inspired by a headcanon @fuseboxmusebox posted about Carl not liking Chelsea, so I wrote a little fic about that conflict.

~2000 words

Paring: MC/Carl

No warnings, just light angst and then them making up.

         As Carl unlocked the front door of he and MC’s apartment, he knew MC either had or currently was hosting friends. More specifically, Chelsea. The overpowering wall of perfume, something burnt, and loud pop music encased him and grimaced. 

         Walking into the entryway, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as Chelsea’s tennis shoes and jacket weren’t sitting by the door. It eased his annoyance only slightly to know she had already left. He hung his overcoat and set down his bag, rubbing his face and mentally preparing to walk into the kitchen.

         Their cleaner worked on Tuesdays, so they’d just came through and straightened things up for the week yesterday. Carl could feel his anxiety rising as he looked around the kitchen, which had been spotless when he left before sunrise this morning. 

         Instead of sparkling stainless steel, flour was haphazardly dusted over everything. Cookies sat on top of the stove cooling, but when he walked over to them and tried to pull one off it stuck to the pan. He pried the cold, hard lump from the pan and grimaced as it broke in half, the blackened bottom broke into a million bits in his hand. He dropped it and held his hand aloft, more aggravated by the crumbs now coating his hand than he should’ve been. Walking over to the skin, he groaned loudly at the pots and pans that were piled high, blocking the water. 

         Wiping his hand on his dress pants, he turned from the kitchen and wandered into the living room. MC was sat cross-legged on the floor, her hands in some kind of glass bin that was filled with soil. She looked up and beamed at him, “Hey babe! How was work?”

         He looked at her with exhaustion in his eyes and started fidgeting with his fingers, hands tightly pressed in front of him, “fine. Long day and all that. Do you think that’s the best idea to be doing on the carpet?”

         “Oh,” MC looked down, as if noticing the open bags of moss, gravel, and potting mix for the first time, “no it’s fine, I’m being careful. I bought snails!” She loudly proclaimed the last part, springing up to retrieve her laptop, but Carl could only stare at the bag next to her foot. MC stepped adeptly around them as she walked over to him, and he finally tore his eyes up to meet her.

         “They haven’t shipped yet, but I got three of them! I figured safer than two if we want to breed them ever- one could die in the mail or something. They’re otala lacteas.”

         “You bought… Snails…?” Carl slowly repeated, looking from the computer screen to MC’s excited face. She nodded, not catching his apprehension. To her credit, Carl didn’t emote much normally. 

         “Yeah, Chelsea and I were talking about the perfect pet. Obviously it’s a cat, but we can’t do that right now with the security deposit. So we were like ‘what’s quiet, clean, low maintenance, but still interactive. You know how I can’t keep fish alive to save my life. And she told me all about these tik toks of people getting snails- I didn’t know you could keep snails as pets! It’s actually really easy to buy them online, especially in the UK for some reason. I dunno, we must have a high snail population or something. But I had them shipped within two days so we had to create an enclosure. Chels and I went to the garden store and you actually need to make a proper terrarium with dirt for them to dig in, so we got this,” she’d set the laptop on one of the couches and was now lifting the glass container, making Carl’s eyes get wide with stress as she hefted it up, “and isn’t it so cute? I love the steel frame for all the different panels. They had boring square ones, but Chels pointed out it’d look way better in a room if we went with something more geometric. And it’s gonna be totally chill keeping them because they just eat scraps of veg and fruits and egg shells!”

         He didn’t mind when MC went off about a special interest, but when Chelsea came over it always seemed to dumb her down. Normally MC would talk about an article she read or a podcast or the book she was reading, but post-Chelsea it was always something irrelevant like internet drama or tv shows. Carl tried to keep up, but he couldn’t help but think the snails were just a temporary interest that MC would immediately drop after not seeing Chelsea for three days. 

         “Babe,” he cut in, as MC was still talking excitedly and holding it up with her hip, “can you put that down- maybe not on the-”

         “Oh sure-” she carried it over to the kitchen counter and sat it down. 

         “Maybe not- MC, we eat off there…”

         “Oh relax, it’s separated by glass.” She dusted her hands off on her jeans, and he felt like he could see the particles falling to the floor. “I’m just excited. I’m sure you don’t really care-”

         “I care,” he replied, unconvincingly.

         “Tell me about your day, how’d the meeting with Eddie go?” She walked back into the living room and sat down, patting the spot next to her. He stayed standing where he was, still staring at the open substrate and gravel bags on the floor. MC looked at him, confused for a moment, then followed his gaze. 

         “Oh.” She sprung up and grabbed the bags, causing Carl to inhale sharply as he worried the open bags would spill, and carried them into the kitchen as well, putting them on the counter. 

         “Fine,” Carl rubbed his face before sitting on the couch. “Today went fine.” MC walked over and laid next to him, placing her head in his lap and looking up at him. “Just fine?”

         “Yeah,” Carl gently wove his hands into her hair, idly stroking her scalp and staring at the off TV. MC reached up and gently poked his chin, making him glance down for a moment, “hey. What’re you thinking about?”

         Carl sighed, “it doesn’t matter.” “It does to me.” “I don’t- promise you’re not going to get upset?”

         MC gently squished his cheek, “what?”

         Carl glanced down at her, taking her hand, “you just always get so manic when Chelsea comes over.”

         MC frowned and sat up, turning to face him, “what does that mean?” 

         Carl sighed again, “nothing. Nevermind. Forget it.”

         “No. Go on.” MC crossed her arms, “I get all manic when Chelsea’s here?”

         “I mean… I’m not wrong. Have you seen the kitchen?”

         “Yeah,” her voice was starting to get sharper, “my friend came over and we baked cookies.”

         “Not just the cookies- the snails, the music-”

         “So what? I can clean it up.”

         “I’m not saying you won’t, I’m just saying it always seems like you start a million things and get really excited about-”

         “So it’s a bad thing that I’m excited?”

         “It just doesn’t seem like you.”

         “Me being excited isn’t me?”

         “Not being excited, it’s what you get excited about.”

         “What the hell does that mean?”

         “Whenever Chelsea comes over it feels like you’re dumbing yourself down.”

         MC’s jaw dropped and she just stared at him, subtly shaking her head. He didn’t take the hint, still staring at the rug and talking, “Like normally you’re really smart and calm but when Chelsea gets in your head suddenly you’re talking about celebrities and-”

         “Stop talking, Carl.” He glanced up at her, staring blankly at her face, which was twisted in rage. The both looked at each other in silence for a moment, before MC stood up angrily.

         “Don’t you dare call me or Chelsea stupid.”

         “It just seems like you get really into silly things when she-”

         “Are they silly because you don’t like them? I don’t call your marvel movies or obsession with elon musk dumb. I don’t shame you for what you enjoy.”

         “I’m not saying you can’t enjoy things. Surely you’ve noticed how the things you’re interested in never are what Chelsea talks about- you don’t even care about internet drama until she comes-”

         “I like spending time with my friend, and I like learning about what she’s interested in.”

         “That’s fine. I just think-”

         “I don’t want to hear it.” MC snapped, then stormed to the kitchen. He remained sitting in the living room, listening to MC angrily dropping and shoving pans around. He stewed in the tension for a bit, then took his phone out and reopened an article he hadn’t finished during the day. After MC finished cleaning the kitchen, she stood waiting for a bit. Either she thought Carl would come and talk to her or she didn’t want to walk past him. Eventually, she walked through the living room and pointedly looked away from him as she walked to the bedroom. 

         A few hours later, Carl shuffled into the bedroom and started to undress. After putting on his pajamas, he brushed his teeth and brought two cups of water into the bedroom. He walked around the side of the bed and offered one to MC. She huffed and turned away. He put it on the bedside table and walked around to his side. MC turned away from him again. 

         “MC, I’m sorry.” He said, assuming she was still mad.

         “What are you sorry for, calling me stupid or saying you hate my friends?”

         “I don’t hate your friends, I just… You know Chelsea stressed me out. And I’d never call you stupid, you’re one of the smartest women I’ve ever met-”

         MC sat up suddenly, turning on her lamp, “Yeah, we’ve talked about how Chelsea stresses you out. That’s why I go out of my way to have her over when you’re not here. I don’t have to do that, but I thought it was a good compromise. Now you’re trying to insinuate that spending time with her makes me worse.”

         She paused, clearly waiting for Carl to respond. He didn’t take the hint.

         “She doesn’t make me worse.”

         “No. I don’t think- not worse, MC. It just seems like you’re not yourself- you start a bunch of new projects and then abandon them three days later.”

         “I’m not going to not spend time with her anymore. She’s my best friend, Carl. I not going to choose between you and her and I cannot believe you’re trying to make me.”

         “I don’t want you to choose or anything. I was just irritated. You know I like to keep the apartment clean, and I come home after a long day of work to see everything destroyed-”

         “I cleaned it up!”

         “I know. I was just annoyed in the moment. I’m sorry.”

         She stared at him silently for awhile, then sighed exasperatedly. 

         “You should be, you were way out of line. Chelsea isn’t dumb or silly for liking things that you don’t, and I think it’s rather misogynistic of you to imply.”

         “I wasn’t-”

         “Carl. Sit with that for a minute before you argue with me, please. There’s nothing inherently dumb about being interested in snails or interior decorating or celebrities or whatever else- they’re just things that majority women like. Is your distaste for them based on condescension towards women?”

         He sat on the bed, genuinely thinking about it.

         “You know we had this conversation about pumpkin spice and ugg boots-”

         “No. I know. I’m thinking about it.” 

         “Good.” MC laid back down again, pulling the covers back up. Carl laid down quietly beside her, unmoving. After forty five minutes, MC turned on her side to face him, “still thinking?”

         “Yeah, I suppose so.”

         “Ok. Well. I’m going to bed. Thank you for apologizing. I’m not sorry I got mad, but I’m sorry that I didn’t think to clean up before you got home. I didn’t think how that would stress you out.”

         “That is fair.”

         MC giggled lightly, “Alright, good night.” 

         “Good night, MC. We’ll talk tomorrow, I’ll try to get home at a reasonable hour.”

         “Mmmhm.” MC slowly turned to her back, stretching her legs before curling up. “Please remember to close the closet door before turning the light on tomorrow.” 

         “Of course, anything for you, dear.” 

         “Oh and if you get the mail, please be careful with it. The snails are coming either tomorrow or the day after. We’re going to be parents soon.”

         Carl chuckled, then leaned over and kissed her cheek, “Anything for you.”