#i live for carrots of massive size

[comicaurora]

Happy Glorious 25th of May. Thank you for getting me into the discworld books (at least in an indirect way). They have quickly become one of my favorite series of books, even if I've only read a handful of them. As for a question, what have been your biggest takeaways or lessons from the discworld books? Whether it be how you write, how you engage with stories, or even how you look at the world.

we got another one lads

It's a little hard to boil it down! The books cover so much ground, and I read them at such a formative age it's hard to tease out how much of me is made from them.

On the most basic level, I love how angry those books are. Every POV protagonist is seething at unfairness and injustice and this is never framed as a bad thing - just something that needs to be controlled, directed, weaponized.

I like that everything is a joke, but in-universe everybody is absolutely sincere. The characters are charicatures and punchlines because of their sincerely-held beliefs and ideals. Captain Carrot is shiny and literal-minded and perfection personified and it's funny because he really is that good. Nanny Ogg is an outrageously horny and boisterous old woman and it's funny because she's having such a good time with it, especially when contrasted with her stern and serious foil Granny Weatherwax, and it's funny because the two of them know each other incredibly well and deal with each other's eccentricities with the practice of decades. The dwarves are funny because they're goofy little guys with big beards that think about nothing but gold and new songs to sing about gold, and as the books go on, the complexities of a culture that looks like that punchline become the deepest and most fascinating element of the worldbuilding in the entire Disc. The world is mounted on the back of four elephants and we made a book called the Fifth Elephant, how wacky, hey let's casually integrate the worldbuilding consequences of massive deposits of perfectly-crisped organic matter caused by the collision of a planet-sized elephant with a planet-sized planet. The discworld tells a joke and then commits to the consequences with its entire ass, and I love that.

A lot of the characters are in some way one-of-a-kind and unprecedented, or at least appear to be on the surface because nobody like them has even been publicly known, and the stories frequently explore how these unique people navigate their existence without a roadmap and trailblaze the way for the people just like them to someday follow. People who break rules by existing and make the world question what purpose those rules serve if they aren't actually unyielding principles of reality. The dwarf gender cultural revolution, the female wizard, the golem given a voice, the entire existence of Susan Sto Helit. It produces a world that feels like it's absolutely full of protagonists, like every story is one-of-a-kind and every individual person matters and has the right to choose the way they want to live, no matter what anyone else thinks. can't believe some terfs really think these books are for them as if they aren't precision-built to tell them to go fuck themselves

The cast full of protagonists makes the crossover events a delight. All these characters existing in the same universe means they can just run into each other sometimes, and they're all such absolute weirdos that their interactions never fail to be absolutely incredible. The world feels very thoroughly lived-in, to the point where the stories sometimes almost feel like they're telling themselves.

they're just really fuckin good ok

#asks #not aurora #discworld

[catboyfever]

Valentine's Day With Rabbit - Rabbit/Tigger Fluff

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAYY!!!! As a gushy hopeless romantic type I live for this holiday, especially given my fave fandom ships getting some love this year. I hope that however you get to celebrate it, it's a fantastic one. I hope you enjoy this story too, for it is a ship near and dear to my heart (if it wasn't obvious by now). Enjoy :).

Valentine's day in the Hundred Acre Wood was a lot of things. Chaotic, disorganized, frantic. But for once, Rabbit thought, it wouldn’t bother him. While everyone else was sure to be running around the entire forest trading cards, making things for one another, he would be enjoying a perfectly planned day with Tigger. The thought of what he and Tigger had become still made his cheeks warm. It hadn’t been long since his confession. Rabbit thumbed the golden locket that hung around his neck, smiling as the warmth spread from his cheeks to his chest. He looked over his schedule once more while on the other side of the wood, a very excited Tigger sat in front of a potted carrot. 

Tigger was more excited than ever about this particular Valentine’s Day. The gift that he’d given Rabbit before would be blown out of the water when he presented him with this genuine, home grown carrot. One that Tigger had nourished himself from seed to harvest. Gardening had never really tickled Tigger’s fancy before; but then, bouncing never tickled Rabbit’s fancy either and he’d indulged Tigger more than a few times already. He wanted to prove he could reciprocate as well as prove that growing vegibibbles is yet another thing Tiggers do best. The pot sat on a wooden table in front of his window where it would get the proper sunlight it needed to grow. Tigger smiled down at the massive leaves of the carrot’s stem. 

“Why, with a head of hair like that it’s just gotta be the bestest carrot ol Long Ear’ll ever see!” Tigger proclaimed. 

Unable to contain his excitement any longer, he grabbed the leaves of the carrot that fanned out even over the sides of the pot and pulled. Out of the soil came… the tiniest carrot that Tigger had seen yet. Almost smaller than a baby carrot, its incredible stem contrasted its miniscule size. 

“What the…? What’s going on here?!” Tigger shouted. 

Tigger dejectedly set the carrot back into the soil and sighed. He couldn’t give this dinky little carrot to Rabbit! 

Tigger paced around the room, racking his brain for anything that Rabbit might’ve said helps a plant grow… He remembered… something about feeding it, giving it enough light, talking to it, and “aerating” the soil. Whatever that meant. 

“Feedin’ it should be easy. But what do carrots like to eat?” Tigger thought aloud. 

He looked around his house and found some leftover halloween candies. He unwrapped them and set them into the soil, watching the brightly colored sweets sink into the soil. 

“Well, that oughta keep him fed for a little while!” Tigger looked to his window and saw Rabbit walking towards his house from the horizon. Right, he was so caught up on his carrot dilemma that he totally forgot he had a day planned with Rabbit! 

Tigger opened his front door and bounced right off his porch, making a beeline right for the unsuspecting Rabbit that trotted closer. 

“Good morning, Ra-Ra!” Tigger called out. 

Rabbit finally looked up from the schedule he was holding and shrieked before tumbling a good five feet backwards, landing with Tigger perched atop him, nose to nose as he always did. 

Rabbit sighed and got to his feet as Tigger gently picked himself up off the poor bunny. 

“Tigger, I thought we agreed you need to give me more than a few seconds warning before you bounce me.” Rabbit said crossly. 

Tigger simply carried on smiling. “Aw, sorry Bunny Boy. I just got excited!” Tigger wrapped an arm around Rabbit and pulled him into a hug. 

Rabbit couldn’t deny that Tigger’s excitement was infectious so he squeezed the tiger tight, smiling to himself as he heard the faintest purr rumble up from Tigger’s chest before he pulled away. 

“Right, I have a fantastic day planned for us! Now, you’ll come with me back to my house and we’ll have breakfast. Then after we’ve rested a bit and let our food properly digest we’ll fly kites. Then…” 

Tigger had been listening intently at first, but as Rabbit rambled on about the plans he had down to the minute his mind started to wander. Particularly, it wandered back to that tiny carrot that was supposed to be his big surprise he’d been hinting at for months. Here Rabbit was with this grand romantic day and what would Tigger offer in return? A tiny undergrown carrot? 

“You got all that?” Rabbit said finally. 

Tigger nodded. “Yup! Got it locked and loaded right in here.” He said, tapping his head. 

Rabbit beamed a smile at Tigger and extended his hand to him.

Tigger wrapped his hand gently around Rabbit’s and the pair walked hand in hand back to Rabbit’s house. Rabbit’s hand was smaller than Tigger’s. Rabbit sheepishly glanced towards Tigger now and then, savoring the soft, comfortable warmth that surrounded his hand. Tigger simply smiled at him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Both of their cheeks were red as roses. 

Rabbit had already prepared the food before bringing Tigger back. Sat on his dining room table were two plates of perfectly fluffy eggs, toast, and a plate of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Tigger eyed the delicacies, mouth agape. 

“This looks incredibibble, Ra-Ra!” 

Rabbit waved the compliment off as he took the seat across from Tigger. “Oh, hush. You’re just trying to flatter me.” 

Tigger eagerly took his seat and dug in. Though it was supposed to be more of a romantic breakfast, Tigger was too enamored by the food. Rabbit was pretty hungry as well, so he helped himself to his plate as well. The silence was occasionally broken by another compliment from Tigger who devoured his plate in minutes. Even then, he didn’t stop and grabbed one of the gooey, cinnamony rolls from the plate between them. 

“I knew you could make a mean soup but all this?” Tigger said, licking the frosting off his fingers. 

“Well, it’s just a matter of practice really. The cinnamon rolls were the trickiest part.” Rabbit said, snatching one of the treats for himself. 

As Tigger chewed thoughtfully on the cinnamon roll his mind wandered back to the “big surprise” that he had waiting for Rabbit. He thought hard of a way to somehow manage a way to try and fix it up before he gave it to Rabbit… They’d be flying kites next. That’s it! He could conveniently snap his line and fly off with the wind. While Rabbit looks for him he can try and get his carrot Rabbit Ready. 

Once they’d finished eating Rabbit stood to collect the dishes. Once they were in the sink, Tigger spoke up. 

“Say, you said we were flying kites after this, right?” Tigger asked. 

“Yes, that’s right. But we have to wait first, we just ate. If we rush out now you could get a stomach ache!” Rabbit said as he began to scrub the dishes. 

“Aww, c’mon Ra-Ra. It’s just standing around holding kites, plus the wind won’t hold forever ya know!” Tigger urged him. 

Rabbit sighed and set the last plate to dry. “Oh, fine. I suppose there isn’t a lot of activity involved afterall.” 

Rabbit retrieved the kites from his closet and was all but carried out the door as Tigger pulled him along. Rabbit helped Tigger get his kite into the air, proudly repeating his knowledge of how a kite managed to fly in the air while he wrestled with his own kite until it joined Tigger’s side by side. With the wind blowing through his fur and the sun shining down over the green hills of the wood, Tigger felt guilty he was about to ruin such a nice moment with Rabbit. But, he had to do it for the sake of his surprise. Tigger snapped the string of the kite with a quick pull and grasped the separated string tight with both hands. 

“Ah, isn’t this just relaxing, Tigger?” Rabbit asked, turning to where Tigger should have been standing. Instead the spool of string lay in the grass and Tigger was nowhere to be seen. Rabbit whipped his head around until he saw Tigger floating away on the string of his kite, soaring towards the clouds. 

“Tigger?! What hap- how did you get up there!?” Rabbit sputtered. 

“It’s okay, Long Ears! I’ll be back!” Tigger reassured him. Still, Rabbit tore off towards him, keeping his eyes on the sky until slowly the worried bunny faded from his vision. 

Tigger started to wonder how he’d get down when he heard a familiar hoot from above. Owl was flying just above him, looking down curiously. 

“Why, I say, Tigger! What are you doing up here? Shouldn’t you be spending the day with Rabbit?” He asked. 

“I was! That’s just the problem. Rabbit has this whole big wonderful day planned out for us and all I gots for him back home is a lousy tiny carrot I didn’t grow right.” Tigger sighed. 

“Well that is quite a predicament.” Owl said. “It reminds me of the time…” He began. 

Suddenly, an idea came to Tigger. “Hey wait! Hold that story. I heard you can make plants grow by talkin’ to em, you can tell my carrot a story and it’ll grow for sure!” 

“That’s a brilliant idea, Tigger! You have my word I’ll see to it your carrot will be the tastiest of all when I’m through.” Owl said, extending his wing to Tigger. 

Tigger reached out and shook hands with him, only moments later did he realize what he’d done as he and Owl were sent careening down towards a tree. They shouted as they smacked into branch after branch before they landed on something soft. 

Tigger groaned as he rubbed his head and looked down to see he’d landed on Pooh. From beneath Owl he could just barely make out tiny legs before he got up and the poor dazed Piglet was able to get to his feet. 

“Well hello there, Tigger and Owl! I wasn’t expecting you to drop on me today!” Pooh said excitedly. 

“Well heya, Buddy Bear! What were you guys doin’?” Tigger asked. 

“W-we were exchanging Valentine’s. That is, until we broke your fall.” Piglet answered. 

“Oh, right. Anyway! I need your guys’ help, bad.” Tigger said.

“Oh my, what’s the matter, Tigger?” Pooh asked. 

“There’s no time to explain, I’ll tell ya once we get to my house!” Tigger exclaimed and lead the group back to his home. 

Once they were gathered in his home, Tigger showed them the tiny carrot with its brilliant stem. 

“I say, the poor carrot is focusing on growing in all the wrong places!” Owl said. 

“Yes, it’s certainly on the small side…” Pooh said, looking it over. 

“Exactly, that’s why I need you guys to help me figure out these tips I remembered from Rabbit. First, he said if you talk to your plants they’ll grow bigger. But I talk to this little guy all the time and it didn’t seem to help that much. So that’s why Owl here is gonna tell it a story!” Tigger said, gesturing to Owl whose feathers fluffed up with pride. 

“Well… let’s see. Ah! There’s that time my dear cousin Archibald got caught hanging from a tree by his tail feathers! Now, it was a bright, sunny day just like this one. Archibald had fancied himself a morning fly but he was also terribly famished. So he gets the idea…” Owl’s story continued on and on. One by one, Pooh, Piglet and Tigger begin to nod off as Owl paces about the room continuing to spin his yarn. They were only awoken by Owl’s laughter at the end of the story. “...and he says, ‘That’s the last time I fly while eating tapioca pudding!’” Owl finished at last, laughing himself to tears. 

Tigger studied the carrot, only to sigh as it was totally unchanged. 

“I already fed it candy, owl talked its little carrot ears off… What else…” Tigger pondered. “He said to make sure it gets enough light, but it’s already got sunlight. What else can we do?” 

“M-Maybe a lamp? Those sure shine a lot of light.” He suggested. 

“Yeah, yeah! You’re spot on, Pig-uh-let!” Tigger said triumphantly. He dug around in his closet until he withdrew a lamp and pointed it at the carrot. The bright light shone fiercely on the carrot, slowly drying its soil out until it was little more than compacted dirt. 

Tigger looked at it quizzically. “Hmm… it’s not workin’. There’s one last tip he told me but I dunno what to make of it…” 

“What did he say, Tigger?” Pooh asked. 

“He said I should ‘aerate’ the soil. What’s that supposed to mean?” Tigger asked. 

“Oh! That’s easy. It simply means to introduce air to the soil so that nutrients can reach its roots!” Owl said. 

“Oh! I see! Only, how do we get the air in there?” Pooh asked. 

Tigger retrieved a straw and stuck it into the soil. “Watch and learn, Buddy Bear!” 

Tigger blew into the straw as hard as he could and sent the dry soil flying out of the pot until the only thing that remained inside of it was the tiny dwarf of a carrot.  

Tigger sighed and lifted it from its pot, tail drooping. “Well, thanks anyways guys.” 

The door to Tigger’s house suddenly swung open and stomping inside was a very furious Rabbit. 

“There you all are!! I’ve been searching high and low in this entire forest for you!! I couldn’t find Tigger so I thought to ask Pooh for help. Then he wasn’t home so I went to Piglet’s, then Owl’s, I only found you because Kanga said she thought she saw you fall out of the sky along with HIM!” Rabbit shouted, pointing at Owl. 

Tigger could see tears starting to well up in Rabbit’s eyes as he continued. “If you… If you wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with everyone else you should’ve just said so.” Rabbit's ears drooped as he finished his sentence. 

Tigger shook his head furiously and hopped over to him, carrot in hand. “Nono you got it all wrong! I only had them here to help me try and fix my surprise for ya. I… took some carrot seeds a while ago and I’ve been trying to grow this carrot to show you I could garden too. So you’d let me help you with yours.” 

Tigger stretched his hand out and opened it, revealing the tiny carrot. “But, it came out all small. I tried every trick in the book to get it to grow up more but nothing helped…” 

Rabbit stared at the carrot. He picked it up by the stem that extended far past Tigger’s palm and gingerly held it in his hands. “So, you did all this… for me?” 

Tigger nodded slowly. “Sorry I ruined the big day, Ra-Ra. I just wanted this surprise to be perfect for ya.” 

“No… It’s perfect. You went through all this trouble just to make this for me…” Rabbit said with a sniffle. “May I eat it?” Tigger was taken aback, so convinced he’d have been disappointed by the surprise that he never imagined he’d want to eat the thing. “Well, sure. It’s for you.” 

Rabbit plucked the carrot from its stem and tossed it into his mouth. It was sweet. Very sweet. It tasted almost like a glazed carrot only there was no honey to be found at all. Rabbit smiled and walked towards Tigger. He stood up on his tip toes and pressed his lips against Tigger’s. Tigger could taste how sweet the carrot was on his lips. He wrapped his arms around Rabbit’s back and pulled him close. When Rabbit finally stepped away, the realization of what he’d just done hit him and his face grew beet red as the others watched them. 

“Well, Rabbit. Tigger. We’ll leave you two alone.” Pooh said with a grin, tugging Piglet along out of the house. 

“Yes, yes. It’s the day for love after all.” Owl said as he stepped out of Tigger’s house, leaping off his porch to fly away. 

Finally together again, Rabbit looked up to Tigger. “Well… You mind telling me what I missed while you went on your flight?” 

Tigger somehow managed to get Rabbit to lay with him in the drawer that he slept in. It was a cramped fit, but being so close to Rabbit was exactly what Tigger wanted at that moment. He recounted the day in great detail. The fall, the various silly things he tried to do to get the carrot to grow that Rabbit was all too eager to debunk and correct as he said them. 

“You know, you could’ve just asked me. I’d love to teach you how to garden.” Rabbit said. 

“Well, whatadaya know? I’d love to learn from the best gardener in the world.” Tigger said. 

Rabbit buried his face into Tigger’s chest to hide his cheeks as Tigger’s arms held him close. Tigger’s purrs broke the silence in the otherwise quiet room. 

“Tigger, did you really want to spend the day with me?” Rabbit asked. 

“‘Course I did! Why ya ask?” Tigger looked down at him. 

“Well… It’s just, I know it can be stifling. The schedules and the planning and all.” Rabbit said. 

“Pff. Bunny Boy, I wanted to spend this day with you the way you wanted because of all the stuff you had planned. You sat down and scheduled out this perfect day for us full of things both of us would enjoy. It just means you care a whole lot. That’s why I love you.” Tigger punctuated his sentence with a kiss to Rabbit’s forehead. 

Rabbit just clutched his arms around Tigger tighter, not daring to let Tigger see the tears in his eyes, though he knew he could feel them. Tigger simply rubbed his back, continuing to pepper his face with kisses where he could. 

“Oh, Ra-Ra. Just ooone tiny suggestion for next year.” Tigger said. 

Rabbit finally looked up at him again. “Oh? What’s that?” Tigger leaned forward and kissed Rabbit one last time. “Next year, bouncing goes on the schedule.” Rabbit rolled his eyes, but he didn’t have to deliberate long. “Fine, fine. Bouncing goes on the list next year.” 

#rabbit (wtp) #tigger #rabger #fluff #fanfic #fan fiction #winnie the pooh #rabbit wtp #wtp rabbit #tigbit #valentine's day #i hope this isn't boring lkasdjfkldasjlf

[jovalencia]

good morning ladies it is 6am and I spent the entire night awake and I’ll explain why under the cut bc I am gonna vent abt my health issues again and I’m gonna talk about vomit and all my stomach and eating issues as of late so just be aware of that. and this is all like a massive tmi but none of you are real so it’s okay

okay yeah so basically last night I had avocado toast for dinner which I’ve never had before and it was really good and that’s actually not relevant I just wanted to tell you guys. also not relevant but I was listening to tower of nero while I did that and I can’t believe how much I actually care about this series now. the lester effect I guess I’ll talk about that in a post once I finish the series

anyways I was still hungry after the toast so I ate some leftover gas station jojos from the day before and you’re probably like “carmen ofc you felt sick again last night you ate fucking gas station jojos” and yeah maybe I did and it’s not exactly the smartest decision but I also ate them two desperate times the day before so idk why this time would be any different since it hasn’t even been 2 days since I bought them. but yeah halfway though eating those (and watching my ethanimale video🫶) I started to not feel great so I was like fuck it I’ll go to bed. and I was sooooo excited to go to bed bc I was exhausted and since I’m home alone I was (tmi) gonna sleep naked bc I’ve never slept naked and it sounds fun as hell. and I’m sure it would have been if my stomach wasn’t doing backflips the whole time and despite the fact that I Just Fuckig Ate I was very noticeably hungry. I tried to fall asleep and ended up just doing that half in and out of consciousness thing that was going on last time I was sick like this. without the hallucination stress nightmares this time. except every time my stomach did a flip big enough to wake me up, I did in fact have to go to the bathroom to shit. and guys this is gross but I truly have no idea how I was able to shit so much like i took at least five full sized shits and I’m not even constipated or anything like WHERE did it all come from. every time I got up I was legit flabbergasted. anyways. I ate half a fig bar to try and get some more food in my system and finally put on some clothes and did what I know always helps when I’m sick: lay on the living room couch.

side note shoutout to my sister for insisting hat this couch was so soft and comfy that we Needed to buy it and the matching chair despite the fact that we didn’t need new living room furniture. we absolutely did and she’s the mvp of my life for that.

so yeah I was finally able to get some sleep out here on the couch and I still wasn’t feeling Great but I was able to actually sleep which is a testament to the power of this couch. and it was fine I was waking up to piss like eve Rey half hour big I’ve been driving a lot of water since it’s the only thing I can stomach and I was getting up to shit every half hour before so what does it matter. and it was all fine I could handle this until I needed to wake up for work (whether I’m going idk) but then I won’t up and I was like “yeah I’m definitely gonna throw up” so I threw up. and like here’s where it’s weird. like first of all it was a Lot of water considering how much I’ve been pissing out every 30 minutes for the whole night. second of all I threw up carrots which I haven’t had since wednesday night and god could they possibly still be in my stomach considering how much shitting I’ve done this morning. very weird.

but yeah I feel a bit better now and I tried to call my mom but she’s off the grid on a camping trip (boooooo👎) so I texted her instead and it said it went through so hopefully she gets back to me on that. I’m gonna scroll through some posts then try and get back to sleep bc despite how hungry I am right now my persistent lack of appetite is striking again and i don’t think if actually be able to eat anything right now. god bless.

#my mom’s prob gonna text me back and tell me to drink a gatorade but I don’t WANT gatorate. EW. #carmen.txt

[thessalian]

Thess vs Victim-Blaming

So there’s this jackass Tory MP Lee Anderson. His constituency’s food bank oblige people to sign up for cooking and budgeting courses before they’re allowed to pick up food parcels. Because, he says, “There’s no massive need for food banks in this country; it’s just that nobody knows how to cook anymore! You can cook a meal from scratch for 30 pence!” He says a day; I think he means per person.

Either way...

Once I got past the rage, I did actually have some rebuttals for all of that. Which I tend to fire at the people who agree with him in my hearing / reading.

For meat, we’re talking about off-cuts. Those tend to take rather longer to cook than the average, because they tend to be tough. Now, in a household where the kids are too little for that kind of cooking and the parents have been at work (at one of possibly several jobs) ... who the hell has the time? Come to that, who the hell has the energy? When people are working too hard for too little already, they’re not going to be able to put off bedtime - especially not for their kids - to cook a meal.

Of course, people might talk about just putting it into a slow-cooker, and that brings us to another issue: equipment. A lot of cooking from scratch requires things like roasting pans, baking dishes, crock-pots. Now, you can get those things cheap, but they’ll fall apart faster for being cheap, and need to be replaced a lot more often, at more expense. That’s if they can manage the outlay in the first place. And honestly, even if they can afford these things, where the fuck are they going to find the space? I live in a pretty decently-sized flat and my kitchen is the approximate size of a postage stamp, and I have issues trying to find space for everything I have, never mind what I need for easier, cheaper meals. Anyone in a less comparatively luxurious living space is going to have a lot more problems with that.

This 30p figure probably comes with the concept of buying in bulk and a lot of division. So let’s talk about buying in bulk. First, it requires you having the cash to make the initial investment in it. Yeah, that huge bag of rice will make a lot of meals, but can you afford the initial outlay on that huge bag of rice? If you’re relying on a food bank right now, probably not. Then there’s perishables, which you can’t buy in bulk unless you have a decently-sized freezer. Do not underestimate the number of people in this country who have a refrigerator the approximate size of a mini-fridge with a freezer with the storage capacity of a toaster oven. There’s also getting it all home, which is difficult if you do not have a car, which a lot of people don’t. And honestly, even if they do, with the price of petrol lately, anything they save on that kind of shopping will just be blown in petrol fees.

And finally, let’s talk about the amount of energy - electricity or gas - that it takes to cook these meals from scratch. Energy prices have more than doubled lately. No hyperbole. People are asking food banks not to give them carrots or potatoes not because they don’t know how to cook them, but because they can’t afford to cook them with energy prices this high. We’re talking about a situation where old ladies are riding the bus all day because they can’t afford to heat their homes; the energy consumption of an electric kettle feels like too much for people, never mind cooking tough off-cuts of meat, or lentils.

These are the things that no one’s talking about anywhere near enough. They talk about compassion and everything, and that’s fine as far as it goes. Thing is, the logical fallacy of the situation shouldn’t be ignored either. People can look up a recipe on Google (hell, I can cook and I turn to the internet for recipes quite often), but that doesn’t solve all of the rest of the above. I’m tired of the victim-blaming. People shouldn’t need to prove that they can cook / budget before being permitted a food bank parcel. They shouldn’t be obliged to ‘show willing’ by taking a class, either. A lot of those people already have jobs and cutting into what little free time they have while some teacher tells them to do things they have literally no time or money to do because the initial outlay of both is too high for any of this to be viable ... it just feels cruel. So that’s where the compassion comes in, yes. Still, pure logic says this is stupid. If people can’t afford the initial outlay for ingredients and cookware, or the petrol / delivery fees to get bulk food home, or the very energy required to cook it both in terms of gas / electric and of personal spoons reserves, then all of the cooking and budgeting courses in the world won’t help.

Lee Anderson spends thousands on staff per month, by the way. I’d bet a cook is in there somewhere. Not to mention that the Houses of Parliament have subsidised meals. So the politicians on six-figure salaries have their gourmet meals heavily subsidised and they grudge people who are barely making ends meet with multiple jobs a food parcel unless they at least appear to accept the blame for their plight instead of blaming the people whose economic policies and Brexit have put us in this mess in the first fucking place.

They’re still looking for ways to “ease the cost of living challenge” (yeah, they insist it’s a challenge, not a crisis) ... but they’re still trying to find ones that don’t cost them or any of their wealthy donors money. The best they’ve come up with so far is to make a lot of civil servants redundant because “Covid is over and Brexit is done so we don’t need them”. Except those first two points aren’t true. Covid is not over - we just don’t see the numbers anymore because testing is no longer free, and the news outlets are more fired up about Ukraine and the Northern Ireland Protocol debacle. Brexit is not over - we still haven’t set up our own checks on EU goods because we haven’t got around to the infrastructure needed for doing so, and now the “oven-ready deal” that Johnson and Frost were so gung-ho over back in the day is being called a “travesty” that “the EU forced us into” and now those involved are saying, “We’re going to do what we want and break our international agreements and if the EU starts a trade war, it’s their fault for not letting us do whatever we want with no consequences!” (No, seriously, they keep saying that the EU would be “silly” to “shoot themselves in the foot” by imposing sanctions or cutting trade entirely with the UK, when we’re the ones who’d actually suffer. Our government is only world-beating in its gaslighting.)

So, yeah, they want to make more people unemployed in the middle of this mess. Because the Tories Be Like That. And we’d never see the money we supposedly saved by no longer paying those civil servants anyway. They’re taking cues on making their finances look good from the video game industry, this government.

...HEEEEEEEEEEELP.

#Thess on politics

[monsterkissed]

I think for me a part of it is the changing social media landscape, I definitely reblogged some of the like vs reblog discourse posts, bc for me it was more of a "it's okay to reblog and reblog a lot if you want to" attitude, but I can def see how it can create pressure and a uncomfortable situation for people

i think there are elements of that and some of it is platform-based and some of it is just the fact that the landscape has changed very fast (the raw fact that the internet is simply Bigger now, there is a lot more competition and it may simply be that mid-sized creators in particular cannot be as big as they used to be proportionately, idk). i think there may be a small minority of people out there who are very, very, very new to tumblr and don't know that people like reblogs (and polite info posts are obviously fine and good, i have a whole tag for tumblr usage tips) but i don't think most ppl r not reblogging out of ignorance. i think they're not reblogging for the same reason anyone doesn't reblog something: bc they don't want to reblog whatever that post is for whatever reason.

and that's the problem right there, because you can't just say "we need more reblogs" as if that's the same as saying "we need to print more money" or something, asking for a resource. every single reblog has a human behind it making choices about what they want on their blog, and if they don't want that post on their blog it's absurd to say they should put it there anyway, even moreso to claim they have some obligation to. but the reblogs have to come from somewhere and so long as that somewhere is "from other users who don't want to, bc they're not pulling their weight" it's gonna be an argument with an unavoidable element of pressure and discomfort. it's putting pressure on people to act a certain way they otherwise wouldn't and trying to cause them discomfort when they don't. all stick, no carrot. doesn't work. bad business. there's a reason professional publishers, film studios, etc. generally don't talk to their fanbases like this, even when they're struggling financially or when they're just put out a massive bomb. if ppl associate a work or creator with being made to feel like that they will leave and they will be making the right call.

it does depress me tbh. i don't like this "us vs them" mentality in all of this, i think it hobbles the whole thing from the start and it's why i get so scornful of the ppl saying it's about "community". when my fics get five notes (and i'm a writer on tumblr, so five notes is sometimes a big ask) i want to see and appreciate the five people who took time out of their lives to show their support, not some imaginary five hundred who cruelly spurned me. idk, it's all very rough and none of this is going to make it any better and it's wasting a lot of time and energy that could be spent a lot better.

#thank u anon for a good faith perspective on this hellish thing #i have a handful of things that i know do help when you feel shitty as a creator and i muse over talking ab them #but the problem is that number one is ''stop caring ab exactly this or at least care way way less'' #and i think a lot of ppl instead want to like. tame this awful monster into a pet. it's not a pet. it's your creative drive eating itself #long post #engagement discourse

[theblondegoesabroad]

Day 64

Monday 4th July 2022

An early start today. Since we were wild camping we got up early and quickly moved spots. We were in a forest park but not far from our tent we’re massive electricity pylons and I woke up with a massive headache. I already felt it last night but was hoping it would go away in the morning but sadly not. Luckily Benoit was on to it with plan b and we rushed out of there and found a nice picnic table spot for our tea and coffee. And honestly after an hour or so away from the pylons my head was much better. I googled it and turns out there is such a thing as electromagnetic hypersensitivity. And with me and my sore heads I’m not surprised I’m hypersensitive to this too. Just another thing to be aware of! After our coffee we got organised and headed to Newcastle upon Tyne. A river side/port town with a heap of bridges. My favourite. We started by walking down the quay before heading into the old part of the town. We checked out the two arcades/markets and the main historical buildings and churches. It was a nice town. And there were a lot of sales on. I picked up another pair of running shoes at 40% off. At the rate we are burning up kms I will need another pair of shoes and so since on sale I thought why not. Unfortunately nothing in benoîts size though. After a nice walk around the town and a snack of scotch eggs we headed first to the supermarket before going to the Gibside chapel and gardens preserved by the national trust. We walked around the gardens in a little bit of sunshine. It was a nice place to relax for a bit. We brought our kindles with us so we read in the gardens for a bit. They werent spectacular but nice enough. Then in the car and south we went. We drove for about an hour before arriving at our next stop. We visited Mount Grace priory. An old house and monastery. The monastery was mostly ruins but there was on building still standing where a resident monk lives. It was a lovely ruin and garden and the sun was out to be able to enjoy it properly. We then headed to a campsite. Had a nice hot shower before making dinner. A nice bbq of potatoes carrots peppers and sausages with some bok choy as we needed to use it up. It was delicious. Then a night of reading tucked in the car away from the wind. Love Kate xxx

[idontblushsrry]

Uhh may I make a request for Ouran High School Host club? Just a headcanon for how the host would react to meeting someone how is a big time animal lover. (Like they pretty much live there life like the Irwin family)

A/N: I was thinking about how I’d write this and my brain just went ‘they lost their shit at the sight of instant coffee’, so uhh I hope this is to your liking. I tried to get as much animal variety as I could even though I didn’t really touch on marine animals that much)

Warnings: Like 2 swear words (pinky promise), slight drug mention(literally so small you might not even notice it), spoilers (minor) for Tamaki’s mom

Word Count: 1292

General

So this is under the assumption that like the Irwin family, Reader (or their family) has access to a wide variety of animals (from domestic to wild)

All of them respect the passion you have for animals

While they all might have various feelings on animals (see below), they can’t deny that you truly do love animals

Your family’s sanctuary focuses on healing injured animals and rehabilitating them so they can go back into the wild

Of course, your family has many sanctuaries around the world and some focus more on conservation while others focus on research

The one closest to the school focuses mainly on conservation and as such, is massive and functions like a zoo ( in terms of having people come in and see the animals)

Anyways, the host club is very supportive and often helps you with organizing donation events

Oftentimes, your family will collaborate with them and allow them to rent out parts of the conservation center for events

Aside from the conservation center though, your family owns a few ranches and farms (not for commercial profit, although yall have sold a few animals)

The farms and ranches are relatively small scale but they make great venues for the host club and a great place for getaways/vacations

Your main house is where you keep most of your favorite animals

You have an aviary attached to your room (connected through a hallway that connects to your room) as well as a butterfly garden in the backyard

You also have an aquarium tank, 2 dogs, 1 cat, 1 snake, and a hamster that visits on weekends

You had to be stopped at some point

Tamaki

Tamaki loves animals

He was never really around animals growing up because of how sensitive his mom’s immune system is

So when he sees that you’re an animal person, he’s super excited

Like this man is already planning playdates between Antoinette and your pets/animals

You love his enthusiasm, just one small problem

It’s a little too much enthusiasm

Yes the animals are well trained, but how would you react if a 6′0 giant with long arms came barreling towards you screaming showing its teeth?

So yeah, Tamaki tends to set the animals off/ make them nervous

Because of that he’s only allowed around certain animals (ex. certain monkeys, certain birds, etc.)

He’s happy that he’s allowed around some animals but he still pouts every time there’s an animal he can’t be around

Kyoya

This man

Kyoya does not fuck with animals. Like at all

The first time the host club went to your house, you were holding a hamster and Kyoya moved back about 10 feet

When you asked him what was wrong, he just said “Rats are carriers of many of the most deadly diseases”

You told him that you were holding a hamster and that while hamsters were rodents, the worst he’d get sick with would be salmonella

He doesn’t believe you, but yeah sure whatever

For Kyoya it just gets worse after that

The first time he sees you holding a tarantula, he loses his shit

“Look how cute it is Kyoya!”

“Get that vermin away from me!”

I could go on and on about how much Kyoya doesn’t like animals (even domestic ones like cats and dogs)

He hates going to your house, but he often has to go there in order to set up events for the host club, what a nightmare

While he doesn’t care for animals, the business side of his brain can’t help but think of a marketing opportunity

Mori

Is one of two hosts that are going to be chill about it

He doesn’t feel one way or the other about animals and thinks it’s cool that you’re interested in them

Only thing is; if Honey’s afraid of your animals, he will have to ask you to leave he won’t hesitate to step in “harm’s” way

Surprisingly though, that actually makes him the chillest with your animals

Much to your surprise (and Tamaki’s sorrow), the animals love him

He just has this calming vibe that sets the animals at ease

It also helps that he smells nice and is super tall

For most of them it’s like sitting on a giant tree

He’s not really complaining though, it makes his job of protecting Honey that much easier

Honey

Oh boy

He might actually be the worst with animals

It’s not even an issue of being unable to defend against aggressive animals (Honey could probably solo a grizzly bear)

It’s just he has a very strict “cute” animal policy that changes wildly depending on his mood, the temperature, the angle of the wind, the humidity, etc.

He’s very bougie when it comes to what animals he will tolerate and what animals he will refuse to see

The general safe choices are rabbits (especially bunnies), kittens, cows, tits (the bird species), and baby animals of almost every domestic mammal species)

Him and the hamster you see on weekends are best friends

Also, you have had issues with him trying to feed the animals sweets

Explaining to Honey why rabbits can’t have carrot cake was not an easy conversation, nor was it one you thought you’d need to have

Because of how specific he is about what animals he finds cute, you likened him to a crocodile (because of how sensitive they are to temp. changes in egg)

Needless to say...he was not pleased

Hikaru

So him and Kaoru don’t really care for animals but they try to relate to you in somewhat similar but different ways

Hikaru is always trying to get you to do/recreate stunts with the animals

“Hey Y/N, we should-”

“No Hikaru”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say”

“No you cannot use the dolphins for hoop tricks, no you cannot teach the gorillas how to roll blunts, no you cannot “bribe” the koalas with eucalyptus...”

Yeah he’s a menace

It’s mostly all in good fun though

Hikaru doesn’t really care for animals but he does find it hilarious that the animals like him more than Tamaki

Also, completely random but Hikaru definitely send you those “horse-sized duck vs duck sized horses” memes

Kaoru

Kaoru also tries to use animals on the internet to relate to you, but he’s a lot tamer than Kaoru

Kaoru is kind of like the parent who learns one thing you like and is like “that’s your entire personality right?”

Poor bby is trying his best

Anyways, whereas Hikaru tries to recreate memes, Kaoru sends you them

They range in quality and format; from top text, bottom text to “is this a ____”

At least once a day, Kaoru will send you a meme or picture of an animal with a caption that says ‘this reminded me of u :)’

It’s so endearing that you can’t even be mad about it

Haruhi

Is the only other one who’s kind of cool about the whole thing

She’s really only been around animals in the park or the occasional pet store

Growing up, she didn’t really have the time (or money) to go to the zoo, that and the fact that Ranka doesn’t care at all for animals (she thinks they’re weird and gross)

When Tamaki hears this, he works himself up into a frenzy, torn that his “daughter” has never been to a zoo (even tho he hasn’t either)

But she likes the fact that you’re so passionate about animals

At heart, she’s a scholar, so she loves learning new things she didn’t know before, she could spend all day just listening to you talk about animals

Not to mention the fact that you’re basically giving her a free informational tour  every time you see an animal

#ohshc imagines #ohshc x reader #ohshc headcanons #tamaki suoh #kyoya ootori #hikaru hitachiin #kaoru hitachiin #honey senpai #mori senpai #haruhi fujioka

[wizkiddx]

the worst case scenario

okay so this is possibly part 1 of a v v angsty dad!tom fic!!

WARNING: the section under the cut of this is v v v dark with mentions of death and some graphic descriptions of blood etc - please please don't read if any of these things may affect you <3

the part above the cut (the keep reading bit) is completely fluffy (a bit of childbirth but not graphic) so you could read only that first bit as a stand alone if anybody wanted to

dad!tomholland x reader

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“Stop laughing at me!!!”  Y/n exclaimed in mock anger before bursting out laughing, knowing she did look pretty ridiculous. 

“I can’t help it you just…. You look like an elephant!” Tom cackled from his reclined position lying on the couch, whilst his 8 month pregnant fiancé struggled to get up from her seated position on the floor - where she had spent the last half an hour wrapping presents for her nephews birthday.

“You know a supportive soon to be father would’ve helped me up!” Replying with a scowl that didn’t last long, Y/n finally standing up took the three steps to the couch before uncerimoniously collapsing into it. 

Grinning with this absolute sparkle in his eye, Tom leant forward and slid up to Y/n to pull her into his side. His hand came to rest upon her massive bump - at this point it was almost a rule that if he were touching Y/n he also had to be touching the bump. Tom claimed it to be skin to skin contact and although Y/n were pretty sure that didn’t come into effect until after the baby was born, she wasn’t complaining either. 

“It’s a shame your stuck with me then huh?” He murmured into the top of Y/n’s head, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head while tracing meaningless patterns on her shirt over the bump. Tom was beyond excited to become a Dad, family had always meant everything to him growing up (and now). There was nothing he wanted more , therefore, to call them a family of three - or more accurately four, not forgetting Tess of course. 

“Oh how I regret ever taking up that extra shift at the club” She mused sarcastically, enjoying how he feigned offence in return.

 The way the two had met was so incredibly cliche that it was almost painful, whenever anyone asked how they met she always winced internally. But it was their truth, Y/n had been a caddy at the golf course Tom frequented with his brothers. The nature of his ‘reputation’ meant the caddies always had to sign NDA’s to be paired with Tom’s group and the chosen few were those personally recommended by the golf course. She’d always stuck out to him, mainly because she seemed to be biting her tongue as they worked their way round the course. Caddies, also by job description, were not to speak unless spoken to; to be polite and courteous but not chatty. So, given how professioial she was, had taken some convincing for Tom to drag it out why she looked in physical pain whenever they played the 13th hole.

~~

“Look somethings on your mind I can tell! If you hate me I can arrange another caddy I just -“ He followed her march to back from the hole toward the little buggy, ahead of his brothers and Dad who were making small talk from behind.

“FINE! Okay fine.” Reaching the end of her tether, Y/n snapped, whipping her body round to face him. “It’s your grip! On this hole especially you always play the driver with you pinky too far down the shaft, it’s why you always end up in the bunker on the 13th! It’s bloody infuriating because them I’m the one that has to clean the buggy you’ve trampled sand into!”

“Oh…. I-I … I wasn’t expecting that” Tom had spoken quietly, in an unfamiliar tone to Y/n. Over hours she’d spent on the course with them over the months, Y/n had gotten used to his storytelling voice when recounting an insane experience to his family that he’d had in the world of Hollywood; his grumpy voice when he played badly, which was often; and then his gloating voice - most definitely the worst and intolerable. This voice though, was different.  

“I-I’m so sorry I have no right, I just-“ She’d out her foot in it …. badly. The young actor was one of the most clubs most prestigious and valued members; and she’d just insulted him. Clearly, she was also about to be in search of another job. 

“No no I appreciate your tip… I didn’t even realise you play?” His gracious smile calmed her nerves a little, though Y/n still wrung her hands together as she replied.

“Well we aren’t supposed to talk about it but the club let us employees loose after hours… I practice quite a bit”

“Seeing as you think my game is so shitty, you fancy a round next time?”

~~

Flash forward 3 and half years and a proposal, they were now taking their next massive leaps in the world together. Bringing a whole new life into it. It was bloody terrifying, they both openly admitted. But it was also exciting, new, incredible and… and made them even closer. Now they had to be in each others lives forever, no escaping. 

“How many days left?” Craning her neck back on his shoulder so Y/n could meet his brown eyes, she knew the answer would be immediate. 

“15 till the due date and the app said they’re the size of a rhubarb but I don’t really know what that means.” He knew more about the pregnancy and birth than she did. He had about a dozen different apps on his phone (including one pointlessly comparing the size of the baby to carrots/ watermelons/ onions), had read 4 different books (which for Tom was the equivalent to reading Newton’s book ‘philisphica Mathematica’.)

Ever since she’d told him about the pregnancy Tom had excelled every expectation Y/n had of him… massively. Without even having a conversation surrounding it, he had explicitly cancelled all major work commitments within 2 months of the due date and until around a year after. He had flown back and fourth across the world so he could pop in and check on you. He’d also set his whole family on becoming your minders when he was away - Y/n wouldn’t have been able to go a day avoiding a Holland (or Osterfield) if she had tried. 

The pregnancy thus far hadn’t been the easiest though, hence why Y/n still appreciated to constant worrying texts and calls. During the first trimester the morning sickness had been literal hell; and then you’d had a little bit of a scare with pre-eclampsia during the second. It landed you a 3 day stay in hospital and a very very panicked Tom rushing back from New York on the first possible flight. 

So now? Y/n wanted the baby out. She wanted family life as parents. (At which point hopefully Tom would stop comparing the size of your child to an assortment of different fruit and veg)

“You know, you really are going to be the best dad in the world Thomas Stanely Holland.”

“And you Y/f/n y/m/n y/l/n are already a pretty impressive mum.”

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It was 3 o’clock the next morning when Y/n awoke with a sudden groan instinctively rubbing her stomach in an attempt to get them easing up. Now too familiar with Braxton-Hicks contractions, the weird cramping that waxes and wanes but never letting her get any rest - Y/n knew she was in for a long night. With a muted sigh she carefully lifted Tom’s arm off her side, cautious not to disturb him. The poor boy had been up most nights with her, just because baby wasn’t letting her sleep, it didn’t mean Tom wasn’t deserving of rest either. 

So making furtive movements at a snails pace, she attempted to tip toe out the room - yet as Tom had pointed out before, she looked almost like an elephant, so everything was relative. Surprisingly though, she was successful, escaping onto the soft cream carpet of their hallway before choosing to venture into the room opposite theirs. It had once been a spare room, though more correctly termed the ‘shit room’ because that’s where all the accumulated shit they got was thrown. Now however, Tom and his brothers had taken on the mammoth task of clearing it out and redecorating - creating the most beautiful nursery one could ever see. Complete with a rocking chair which Y/n made a beeline for, now allowing herself to audible groan at the tight sensation deep inside her. 

Normally they would ease after a half an hour or so, yet this time, after what was surely more like an hour and a half they started to…. ramp up. What was a tight pressure sensation quickly became one more forceful volatile and full of pain. She put it off for about 3 or 4 cycles of these, pursing her lips and breathing deeply as she tried to convince herself they’d just simply fizzle away. This couldn’t be the real thing could it? It was too soon - as Tom had said she wasn’t due for another 15 days. It wasn’t happening… was it?

The answer was pretty comprehensively and cohesively given when Y/n tried to stand up, in the hope of walking the ache off, she felt an incredibly tight crunch as her insides seemed to wring themselves together. Oh … and a surge of water soaked her pyjama bottoms. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck FUCKKKK TOMMMM!! TOM-ah shit-  MY WATERS!!! TOOOMMMM”The pain had amped up to a very very impressive levels, forcing Y/n to clutch her sides as she kept bending and straightening back up… as if that would help. Her lonesome agony didn’t last long though, a flustered Tom hurtled in the room - his hair sticking up all over the place and although his eyes were puffy from sleep he still had them glued open impressively wide.

“No its-its too- its too early!” In pure disbelief, Tom shook his head staring across at her face, contorted in pain.

“Yeh because-“ She gulped and exhaled in as much of a controlled manner she could through pursed lips; before answering his stupid statement. “Because I can just HOLD IT IN FOR ANOTHER 2 WEEKS SHALL I?” It took a while for Tom to process, looking down at the puddle of clear fluid on the floor and damp patch on her plaid bottoms while it was Y/n’s turn to look upon his it utter disbelief at his stupidity. 

 “Oh shit shitshitshitshitshitshit!!!!” His words grew with increased volume and place whilst he stayed frozen, his arms reaching out lightly toward Y/n without touching her though. “What do we do?!”

He of course had revised repeatedly and extensively what he was supposed to do when this happened - yet in the moment all knowledge and planning evaporated from his mind. Now wasn’t the time for taking the mick of her terrified fiancé though, Y/n was too blinded by pain as she leaned on the dresser.

“Get the-ah FUCKING hell - phone we need to time them and phone the … the-MIDWIFE.” It was hard to direct a frantic and terrified man when one feels as though her insides are collapsing in on themselves. 

Tom gulped, nodding shakily, whilst trying to take deep breaths because although he was fucking terrified it wasn’t him that was giving birth. He had to step up now. 

It took barely 10 minutes from the midwife picking up to a frantic Tom for her to assess that they needed to get into the hospital asap. During the pregnancy, all of Tom’s rich friends had recommended paying for a private hospital like the ‘Portland hospital’. The idea was it was a much more luxurious and private experience - of course coming with a heavy price tag. For Tom money was not an issue, so he’d suggested to Y/n and met the strongest rejection of all his life. The NHS was by far the only choice in Y/n’s mind - of course it busier, a lot less serene and not as private; but if god forbid something did happen, that was where all the experts and resources were. The idea of being able to pay for better access to healthcare actually repulsed Y/n and everything she stood for… so in short Tom was met with a very blunt refusal. 

Once they arrived on the ward, all it took was one look at Y/n’s inflated belly and the way her body was squirming in the wheelchair Tom was pushing, whilst laden with the baby bags they’d had packed and prepared for weeks, for the pair to be rushed into a side room. After an intense 20 minutes of getting Y/n settled, getting her full medical history and inspection of her vagina the hmidwife’s head popped up from between her legs with a kind smile. She explained in a calming and gentle tone that Y/n was 5 cms dilated and had got to that point fast, yet now things looked to be slowing down a bit. With final words of advice of try to relax she left the pair to it. 

They both looked at each other, a matching expression of confusion and relative terror blatantly clear in both their eyes. It had them both burst out laughing, if Y/n then scowled at the pain that shot through her side.

“This is really happening huh?” Tom murmured as he rounded the bed to gently run his hands through her sticky hair.

“I don’t know unless you really do want me to postpone their arrival for a short while?” Tom rolled his eyes and shook his head, although not really able to surpress the chuckle at his finances humour - even if it was at his expense.

“Glad to see you can still be as sarcastic as ever.” He laughed but before she could reply another wave of contractions hit making her instead just scream - grabbing his hand so tightly Tom was certain a bone or two were crushed in the process. 

It was another hour or two of the same traumatic sight of watching the women he loved more than anything in the world be in such extreme pain. God knows how his appreciate for his mother grew in that moment - she had had four kids overall, two of them twins! Tom dared to think of the scenes in that room of twin brothers birth. Having to deal with both Sam and Harrys large heads…

Harrison had arrived in the meantime, he was to be the child’s godfather and Y/n was more than happy to have him there - even if it was more of a support to Tom than Y/n. Quite expectantly though, he was just as terrified and useless as Tom - so instead of having one idiot to deal with, the midwives now had double trouble of terrified men. 

And yet after another 1 hour or so Y/n was being told to make one final push. Baring down on the gas and air tube, Y/n squeezed her eyes shut together whilst simultaneously contracting every muscle in her body with what little energy she had left. Hearing Tom and Harrisons words of encouragement; the midwifes orders and her own long and continuous scream, Y/n pushed with all she had. It was excruciating and torturous yet she kept going until the most beautiful sound was the only thing left reverberating round the room. 

Her babies cry. 

Tom looked at the scene in awe, feeling an almost out of body experience as the midwife unfolded from her position leant over the bed looking up to Tom. 

“Do you want to cut the cord Dad?” Releasing a breathy laugh, tears collecting in his eyes he looked down at Y/n. She looked a mess - hair flying all over the place; sweaty sheen and a ruined look on her face; panting hard as she caught her breath. But to Tom? Never had he seen her look more beautiful, especially when she managed a small smile, nodding encouragingly at him. So he moved round to the end of the bed as the nurse motioned, while Harrison squeezed Y/n’s shoulder with the proudest look on his face. 

It was the first time Tom had ever seen his child. And really, seeing a wrinkly little pink thing covered in all sorts of gunge - it shouldn’t be such a magical moment. But here he was, a single tear escaping over his lower lashes at the sight of them wriggling about. The midwife gave him a second, before gently handing him the medical scissors and directing him as to what to do. Once done, the lady announced the room it was a beautiful baby girl.

The next hour or so was a bit of a blur, the whole situation felt extremely surreal to everyone - but perhaps most to Y/n. Although the baby was premature the doctors had checked and were confident was perfectly healthy, so after both Y/n and Tom having their turn holding her (Tom finally got his real skin to skin time) they brought in a little incubator where she could rest while Y/n was recovering. Due to her prematurity, as a safety net, the doctors did want to keep the baby girl in overnight for observation, which meant the whole party would be staying too. 

Y/n loved nothing more than watching Tom and Haz with their baby. The way they delicately cradled her in their strong arms and the way their eyes softened so inexplicably. Y/n swore that had she not just pushed a watermelon sized human out her vagina, the way Tom looked while holding their daughter would make her pregnant all over again.  

“I still can’t believe you two created a real life human.” Harrison mused while standing with the baby girl in his arms, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he watched her sleep soundly. 

“To be fair it was mainly Y/n” Tom laughed as he squeezed Y/n’s hand (wincing internally as it hurt his already injured hand - Y/n had an almost death grip)

“Oh no credit where credits due… he was involved for a whole 3 minutes or so.” Harrison snorted and Tom scowled at her, yet her cheeky if exhausted grin instantly erased any annoyance.

“Don’t make sexual jokes in front of our child!” He retorted, Harrison still laughing at his friend. Haz loved Y/n too - she made Tom a better version of himself. And now, she’d made him a dad. 

**triggering part starts here

After all the excitement of the early morning it was more than fair to say Y/n was shattered, Tom not doing much better. So after a little bit, Tom joined Y/n on the bed and they instantly fell asleep to the light beeping of their babies heart monitor. Harrison stayed in the arm chair in the corner of the room, wheeling the little incubator right in front of him to just stare at the little girl. He had been texting Tom’s family too, giving them details of when they’d be allowed to come and meet the little one, who had just woken up to all Tom’s frantic texts from the night before.

Eventually though he was ped ousnapt of his happy daze, looking over to the bed and seeing Tom groan as he shifted on the mattress that was technically only spacious enough for one.

“You good mate?” Harrison spoke in a low voice, keen not to disturb either the baby of Y/n - she had earned a bit of peace. Tom just mumbled in response, rubbing his eyes as he sat up before letting out a deeper groan.

“-hat the fuck” Tom lifted up the blanket covering them both as Harrison looked on inquisitively. But then Tom leapt off the bed, started violently shouting Y/n as he shook her in a look of desperation. It was violent and harsh, Harrison was horrified as he immediately stood up in an action to pull Tom off her. 

“Tom what are you-“

“Get help Haz.” Tom turned around to look at Haz, only at which point could the blonde haired boy make out why Tom looked so insane. Because his trousers, and the bedsheets that were now not hidden by the blankets, was covered in a red sticky substance. Jaw dropping, Haz slalomed round the incubator to stand at the foot of the bed. 

It honestly looked like a horror scene. Y/n’s lower half was completely saturated in a bright red liquid that slowly was creeping further and further through the sheets. Her face looked pale, Haz cursing himself for not noticing earlier and her breathing… it looked so slow it was barely noticeable. The silence was only endured for a few moments, before Tom turned back to violently shaking the dead weight below him yelling her name repeatedly and frantically. 

As soon as the alarm was raised more and more staff piled into the room, each one carrying a new level of importance and seniority - instantly taking control of the room and shouting orders. Tom had long since been pulled away from the bed by a nurse, who was trying to speak to him and calm him down, but was completely ignored as he focused on the scene over their shoulder.

“Looking like a primary PP bleed but she’s lost at least 3 pints already…. Somone bleep the aenestists and lets get moving to the OR please!.. We’ll need bloods crossmatch 5 units….”  

Tom heard to the controlled sense of urgency in the lead doctors voice and he felt as though his heart was being torn straight from his chest. Harrison took over from the nurse, half restraining - half hugging him as the nurse ushered them completely out the room.  Shouting over Tom’s desperate pleas to let the doctors do their thing. He fought hard against Harrison but ultimately his hold was enough to keep him back, the two watching from he corridor as Y/n’s bed was wheeled rapidly out the room - what seemed like at least 12 staff members bustling after it.

Harrison knew it was hopeless to try and talk to Tom, as he paced up and down the ‘relatives room’ the two had been confined to. They didn’t have a clue what was going on, no-one seemed to want to tell them - making the worst case option appear the most likeliest in Harrison’s head. A nurse had said the baby, as yet unnamed, had been taken down the neonatal unit so that it was one thing less for them to worry about ; but refused to say anything about Y/n, saying a doctor would come and explain soon. 

It must’ve been 20 mins, even if to the two men it felt like a lifetime, when a round and short, greying man with big black rimmed rectangular glasses entered the room. Tom was too in his own head to even notice, pacing up and down the room while constantly running a hand through his hair as he tried to keep his breath in regular time - even if his brain was on overdrive.  It took Harrison calling his name twice to make him snap out of it, looking up with desperate pleading eyes to notice the stout man, a sympathetic smile on his face. 

“Are you Mrs y/L/n’s husband?”

“Fiance”

“I’m Dr Webber the consultant gynaecologist,  shall we take a seat sir?” Tom stayed rigid, standing opposite him in an offensive manner.

“She’s dead isn’t she?” At Tom’s cold words, Haz’s breath halted in his chest. It had been what they’d both been thinking, of course, it was natural when you see someone with more blood out their body than inside it. The doctor seemed a little shocked at his frankness, pressing his lips together as he let out a sigh. 

“No sir she’s not but she is very very unwell. Please, let’s sit down so we can talk about it because I understand it’s a lot to take in.” It took a couple of movements of Tom stood frozen staring but Dr Webber held firm, waiting until Tom took a seat next to Haz before he moved - drawing a chair from across the room so he could face both men. 

“First off I’m sorry you were removed from the room and put in here for so long but these situations are incredibly hard and to get Y/n the best care we needed the whole room.”

“Doctor I just… I just need to know what’s going on.” He couldn’t deal with the state of unknowing, Tom was going insane, he didn’t care for the small talk. 

“Sorry right, so what we think happened was your fiancé developed a condition called ‘placental accreta’. In simple terms, a bit of the placenta is stuck in the uterus and causes bleeding.”

“That much bleeding?” Haz couldn’t help himself from butting in, he knew this wasn’t really his place, that he was just being there for Tom. But at the same time that was his godchilds mum, it mattered. 

“Honestly? Usually not, Y/n had very severe bleed… So she has been taken in for surgery, where the very talented surgeons are trying patch up the affected blood vessels. I’m afraid at this point that’s all I can really say.”

“So… she’s going to be okay?” It was desperate plea for something that, even if Tom wouldn’t admit, he didn’t really believe - it seemed as if none of the three in the room did. 

“It’s not that easy I’m afraid. Assuming the surgeons can stabilise the bleeding and fix it…. with blood loss like she has suffered we… we don’t know what the effects of that will be. We tried to prevent as much damage to her brain and body as possible with transfusing blood into her and it was good that she was in hospital so could get treatment almost immediately…. But I’m afraid it’s simply too early to say. The first hurdle is going to be getting her out of surgery safely, only then can we deal with whatever happens next.”

Tom had so many emotions flashing through his head. He knew the doctor was trying to go slow to make the information a little more digestible  but it was all so bloody incomprehensible. So when the greying man asked  both men if they had any questions, neither took up his offer. Surely they both would after hours of processing and analysing but for right now? They were stunned into silence. 

“Okay sir, now I hope you don’t mind me saying this but it really is important for you to hear. You are now a father, as Y/n is a mother. This situation is never easy but as a first time dad I need you to be aware that now your fiancé can’t be your only priority. We are all here to support you but please, just remember that.”

Harrison was so glad the doctor had said that, it was so completely true - yet Haz knew he didn’t have enough power to have said it to Tom. The whole thing was impossible and at the centre was an innocent, beautiful but totally dependant baby. 

“What happens now then?” Haz had to ask on behalf of his friend, who was now completely overwhelmed. Dr Webber sighed, leaning back and rubbing his knees before answering. 

“If the surgery is successful it’ll be at a best estimate two hours before we will have news for you , then she will be taken into intensive care where everything else would be assessed and further investigations would happen. You can both stay here or go get food, maybe go down and see the baby in the neonatal ICU? I personally promise that as soon as any of us get any news you will be the first to know.” 

He was met with the sort of silence that makes you shiver. Sighing heavily, the doctor rubbed his knees, apparently preparing to leave. “This possibly one of the worst case scenarios that could’ve happened but Y/n is in the best hands and we will do everything for her. If you do think of anything you want clarification on, grab one of the nurses and they’ll come and find me.”

And then he left. 

The room was deathly silent. Harrison couldn’t dare to look over at Tom - he knew what he would see and honestly seeing Tom like that would only make it worse. God knows how long they sat in those plastic lined, lightly padded hospital chairs. Both in silence. Just thinking… or more like worrying… or more like dreading. It was Tom who actually broke the silence first, his voice barely audible but still the meaning was crisp and clear. 

“I can’t do it Haz” For the first time since the doctor was with them, Harrison looked at Tom, catching him directly in the eye. That hurt… Tom’s eyes looked so, so… hopeless. He knew what his broken friend was saying, but honestly Haz didn’t want to hear it so he did not respond. That didn’t stop Tom though, he continued. “I can’t do it. … I-I can’t be a dad without her… I just can’t.”

What the hell was Harrison supposed to say? There wasn’t really a guidebook to this situation. He was clueless. So, cautiously Harrison just leaned over, wrapping his arms round Tom as he all but collapsed into his friends chest. Tom was sobbing harshly as Harrison looked up at the ageing ceiling tiles, trying to surpress his own emotions because now clearly wasn’t about him. 

“You can Tom… you have to.” His friend didn’t respond, well apart from harsh sobs that racked his frame. And so Harrison just let Tom cry, folded awkwardly and uncomfortably over the arm rest of the chairs, occasionally yelling into his chest at the unjustness of the situation. 

It wasn’t fair. But it had still happened. And there was still a baby girl by herself downstairs. 

//////

is this okay or too much? I won't write another part if generally people think its a bit too dark!!!!

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #dad!tom #tom holland x y/n #Tom Holland angst #angsty

[amenomiko]

If the IkeRev Guys Sleep Talk be Like

Red Army

Lancelot: N..No.. Not the needle. No..! Please no..! That is too big! Too BIG 😭😭😭!!

MC: There there, Lancelot. Shhh.. *Pat him to sleep*

Lancelot: 😭😭😭... (= q =) Zz... *chuckle all of a sudden* Aaaah milk gummies.. Alice's size of milk gummies.. *Drools*

MC: ಠ_ಠ It's unfair how you eat it without sharing.

-----

Jonah: Yes.. Yes.. Luka! Finally you say you love your brother 😭😭😭😭 Luka I'm so happyyyy ahsjsjksksf 😭😭😭😭😭

MC: Oh not again. *Wipes his tears.*

Jonah: 😭😭😭😭... Ahsjdjskf MC why can't you just agree that you will become my mille-feuille ajsjshskdkf

MC: ಠ_ಠ I'm not a food you cannibal queen.

-----

Edgar: Hmm. Hmm.. Hmhmhmhm

MC: ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ

Edgar: Hmhmhmhm...

MC: ...I don't wanna know.

-----

Zero: =.= zzzz... sh- sh--..

MC: O3O? Zero..? Are you awake?

Zero: =.=... *eyes shot OPEN and sings* OAO Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows~~ Everything that's wonderful is what I feel when MC and I are together~~~ *plops back to sleep* = q = zzzzzz...

MC: ....DAMN IT. SHOULD'VE RECORDED THAT OAO!

-----

Kyle: =A= Zzzzz..... agshshskdf yesh sjsjskskf MC ahsjdjskkdf *snort* ahsjjdkdkff bath in that beer..bkskskskff yesssshhh

MC: How do you even drink if I bath in it?

Kyle: *The-sleep-talk-but-I-will-respond type* ....straw *groans* jasjksksksf

MC: *DYING FROM LAUGHTER* 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Black Army

Ray: Ah.. Yes.. MC.. Yes..

MC: *Blushes* H-Hey- Ray..? Hey--

Ray: Yes.. MC.. Let's live in a mansion of cats.. Omg yesss.....Zzzzzz

MC: .....Oh (´。＿。｀).

-----

Sirius: *Grunts* ahsjjsksksf You.. You...

MC: OAO Sirius..? Are you awa-

Sirius: *EYES SHOT OPEN AND SHOUTED* I'M NOT OLD DAMMIT!!! *Plops back and sleeps* Zzzzz

MC: *MAJOR HEART PALPITATIONS* 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

-----

Luka: Zzz...mmmnn.. Zzzz... MC...

MC: Hehehehe he is so cute ❤

Luka: I want to.. Ajsjskf mmnn... Kick that stupid silver piece of poo poo off the cliff.. So don't.. *sigh* stop me.. Jahshsjsjf

MC: ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ...

-----

Fenrir: Zzzzz.... *sigh* pewpewpewpew...

MC: (ㆁᴗㆁ✿) wat

Fenrir: Zzzzzzz..... *sigh* pewpewpewpewpew... How's that yew stoopid..bajsjskskf Zzzzz...bangpewbangpew...Zzzzzz

MC: *DYING FROM LAUGHTER +1* 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

-----

Seth: Ahshdjskskf hmmmnnn.. MC... *sigh* Maybe...MC... Maybe...

MC: O3O what-

Seth: Maybe it's... *Sit up with eyes closed and flip his hair* Sethbelline. *Plops back down* Zzzzz....

MC: You are doing Loreal commercial, Seth. Not Maybelline ಠ_ಠ.

Others

Harr: Hhhmmnghh.. MC....

MC: Ah.. He is sleep talking.

Harr: Yes.. But.. *sigh* That's too much fish, Loki.. What if MC didn't get the best nutrition for her.. Ajskskf...her... B-boo-boobs-- *Suddenly have a nosebleed* Uhhh

(X////A////X)

MC: WHAT THE FISH--

----

Loki: MC... MC please don't leave me.. MC.. 😭😭😭😭😭

MC: Awww Loki.. There there...

Loki: I will be a good kitty 😭😭😭😭 Meow meow meow ฅ(＾=ω=＾ฅ) Zzz....

MC: *Contemplating if she wants to french kiss him in his sleep or not*

-----

Oliver: N-No..how could you.. how could you.. 😭😭😭😭..

MC: Oliver? Hey- are you okay? There there-

Oliver: *Suddenly sits up and shouts* U DAMN CARROT HEAD HOW DARE U STIR A TEA WITH THAT *BEEP BEEP* I'M GONNA WRECK UR BUNNY HOLE U *BEEEEP*

୧( ಠ Д ಠ )୨!!!! ....Zzzz =____=.... *Sleeps while still sitting + mumble mumble of curse words*

MC: If my boobs can be plucked off from massive shock, I will be SO flat now 😭.

A/N: There's no Blanc. Not familiar with him yet. 🤣

#ikemen revolution #ikemen revolution Lancelot #ikemen revolution jonah #ikemen revolution edgar #ikemen revolution kyle #ikemen revolution zero #ikemen revolution ray #ikemen revolution sirius #ikemen revolution fenrir #ikemen revolution luka #ikemen revolution seth #ikemen revolution harr #ikemen revolution loki #ikemen revolution Oliver

[debiteful]

Are you still doin' writing requests? If so, could you write about a giant finding a borrower, with some unintentional fearplay on the giants part?

Content: apparent threat of harm, size difference (Giant/tiny), fearplay, hand held, crying, trapped under a bowl, ends on a positive note

Taking on a renovation by yourself was a monumental task. Thankfully the boundless strength of a giant made it much easier. Will spent weeks planning everything before he was finally ready to begin.

He started with the floors, tearing them up bit by bit. Beneath the boards there were scraps of fabric, bits of metal that seemed to have once been staples, and even an old cereal box. At first Will assumed whoever had built the place had been careless. As he progressed and found more trash, he began to see patterns. Strategic cuts in the cardboard here, nails running in a diagonal line without securing anything, and other such seemingly intelligent designs. 

Though it was odd, it helped click some puzzle pieces together. Rustling in the panty, socks disappearing, and soft yet shrill noises in the night. Something tiny was living in his home. By the looks of it they were taking things for their own purposes too! Nothing important of course, or he might've noticed sooner.

Now he had more planning to do. After all, he was tearing apart their home too!

Skip berated herself for the hundredth time for sticking around after that bean began tearing the place apart. Safe hiding places were growing fewer by the hour it seemed. It was impossible to predict where it would go to next, meaning she had to move all the borrowed things hastily. Already she had left a lot behind, and, to make matters worse, it had been found. Thankfully the bean hadn't seemed to catch on.

On the bright side, the renovation left lots of building scraps. Most helpful was the chunks of insulating foam. They were easy to cut and carry, and they could be used to build all sorts of things.

Presently Skip was trying to move them into the shed across the back lawn. She'd never lived out there because the temperature fluctuated too much. With insulation it might be bearable, and it would certainly be safer than in that madbean's house!

Unfortunately, the main house was still the best place to get food. Skip would wait somewhere secure in the evening until she heard the bean go to bed, then sneak out to get what crumbs she could. 

Tonight, a fallen cracker tempted her, but it was the crushed cereal on the counter that would be doable to bring home. She darted out from behind the toaster towards it, but she didn't get far.

Something caught her leg. As she fell, there was a grating sound. Then darkness. Something had landed atop her! A bowl? Probably.

Skip walked slowly with her arms out as feelers. Upon reaching the edge she tried to get her fingers under it and lift. That failed, of course.

She tried to fight back panic. Her shim and pry bar lay securely at home- this was supposed to be a quick in and out job! Essentially equipmentless, there were very few options. 

She took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Mind a little clearer, she searched her memory for what direction she must be facing. Slowly she walked around the edge of the bowl to the side closest to the edge of the counter. At least, she hoped it was. 

Pushing with all her might got her nowhere. Getting a running start for the shove did about the same. Soon, Skip was throwing herself at the bowl in desperation. 

Battered and exhausted, she sunk to her knees. Body and tears fell to the countertop.

The rest of the night was spent filled with tension. Every sound was certainly the giant coming. Paranoid thoughts spiraled, centered around what the giant would do to her.

When at last Will did come, the sound was unmistakable to the trembling borrower. She had heard those thunderous steps a thousand times.

Skip envied the ease with which the giant lifted the bowl which confined her. Tilted up on one edge, it could now shove its gigantic hand beneath. She couldn't help but utter a little shriek as fingers as large as her groped around blindly. She didn't dare try to dart through the gap lest the bowl snap back down on a limb.

Dodging the fingers was difficult with no sleep or breakfast. The tip of one brushed her leg. The whole hand rushed her. A massive thumb pinned her to the pointer finger.

The bowl lifted slowly, so she had ample time to imagine the look on its face while she struggled. Her heart was racing wildly. Tears threatened to well up, but she had spent most of them through the night. Stinging eyes locked on to the enormous face.

The giant had quite the satisfied grin splitting its features. Its eyes flicked side to side as the giant took in its captive.

Likewise, Skip's eyes darted frantically. No sign of a weapon. Then again, with teeth and hands like these, it wouldn't need a weapon. Gracious it was absolutely gigantic up close, larger than she had ever thought.

The thunderous voice she had heard dozens of times was deafening at such a close range.

"Hello there," Will said in awe. The borrower was silent and flinched. He frowned and spoke more softly, "Who are you?" 

Even at a dull roar the sound was too much. Skip growled like an animal and bit at his knuckles. He inhaled sharply and adjusted the hold to pin her head. It wouldn't take much for those fingers to crush it.

Will put her in the jar he had for this purpose. Being moved through the air was a disorienting and unpleasant experience. If she was lucky, she would be too dizzy to see whatever killed her coming. Skip was genuinely surprised when she landed on something soft in the bottom of the glass.

Left on the counter, she didn't dare take her eyes off of her captor. He bustled around the kitchen humming softly. She was familiar with this habit of his- the sound echoed through the walls in the evening. For the first time she heard the lyrics of his little ditty, "Gonna cook you up, gotta cook you right up! First I gotta chop you up, then plop you in the pot to cook you up!"

Hearing the giant narrate his process sent a dreadful chill through her. He was going to cook and eat her!! 

More vigilant than ever, her gaze never left him. Eyes locked onto the shining blade of a knife pulled from the block. Watching the vegetables get chopped up brought to mind terrible images. The ease with which the bean could toss a heap of food into the pot brought to mind just how small she was.

Finally, the tears spilled out. Where they had been held in reserve, she had no idea. Frantic little hands rubbed one eye at a time. Delicate fingers brushed away tears without obstructing her view too much.

By the time the food was filling the air with its aroma, she still hadn't stopped crying. She watched through bleary eyes as he filled a ladle with the sauteed vegetables and brought it over. So she wasn't to be cooked: he was going to heap scalding food onto her! 

Skip scrambled to one side of the jar and slid her back up the wall. That one scoop wouldn't be enough to bury her here. 

Her warped upturned face looked back down at her as the ladle lowered. The giant stuck it right into the jar, then let go. What was its angle? 

Tearing her gaze from his intent face, she eyed the handle of the ladle. Yes, it should be doable. Three bounding steps took her to the ladle. Using her momentum she vaulted over the bowl of it and grasped the flat handle. Like she had done hundreds of times before, she shot up the metal beam.

Just as she reached level with the lip of the jar, the giant reacted. He shouted, a deafening thunderclap. Those enormous fingers engulfed her momentarily, then they knocked her back into the jar. Now one hand lay over the mouth of her prison, effectively sealing it.

Will crouched, bringing the jar to eye level. He spoke gently, "Hey, aren't you hungry? I don't know how long exactly you were stuck on the counter." When she didn't respond he pressed on, "I promise it's good. I didn't know if you ate meat, but I figured veggies would be a safe choice. Hope it's okay that it's cooked- do you cook? Oh nevermind, it doesn't matter. Hey- can you understand me?" As his eyes scanned for any response, he finally noticed the red eyes and wet cheeks, "Oh no, have you been crying? Why? I didn't hurt you did I? Oh- I might've scared you… I'm really sorry little one."

Skip listened to his continuous ramble. It almost sounded good natured… Could she have been mistaken? A small bubble of rage rose up and erupted, "Wouldn't you be terrified if some gigantic brute trapped you and started singing about cooking?!"

Will frowned in dismay, "I didn't think about it like that."

"Beans never think," she screeched, "They just kill."

The frown deepened then flashed to a smirk, "Bean? Is that what you call us? Why?"

Skip rolled her eyes. What a dumb question! ….why did they call them beans? That didn't matter right now. 

She walked over to the ladle and picked up a spear of carrot. One eye still on the giant, she took a bite of the tender veggie. 

He gave a big grin, "Is it good?"

She nodded, honestly a little surprised. "So, why did you catch me? Why feed me too?"

"Well, as you've probably noticed, I'm doing a little work on the house. I found some of your stuff and I worried I might accidentally hurt you. Considering you've never introduced yourself, I figured just asking you to come out wouldn't work. I wanna help you move somewhere safer- whether it's temporary or not is up to you."

"My name's Skip," she piped up.

"Oh, mine is Will," he said with another big smile. His teeth were hardly threatening now.

She smiled back. "Oh! Actually I was already in the process of moving most of my stuff."

"Really? Where?"

There was a moment of hesitation; her distrust of beans ran deep. "Your shed, outside."

"All the way out there?" His eyes widened. 

With a barked laugh, she nodded, "Yeah its pretty far. Not ideal, but I haven't a clue where you're going to strike next."

The harsh choice of words made Will frown a little. He recovered quickly though, "Well now you have the inside scoop! The entire upstairs is going to be left alone. There's also the kitchen. I- well, I still don't know what sort of places you like to live, but I'm sure there's some somewhere around here.

Skip considered her options. The upstairs was rather far away, but it was a big area so safer. The kitchen was prime territory for food and other bits n bobs, but the giant would frequent it. He seemed nice enough, but one encounter couldn't undo a lifetime of learning.

"Up the stairs should do nicely," she trailed off, already scheming on how to move all her stuff.

"Alright! Sounds good. So, is there anything I could help you move?"

The response was an absent nod before she realized what he asked. What was his angle? "Oh! Um, I guess."

They discussed what exactly needed to be moved and where. Though she was on her guard, Skip didn't notice anything untoward. The move went just as smoothly. Soon she was settled into a secluded gap beneath the floor, where she had moved all her stuff herself after he brought it to a nearby location.

By the end of it, Will was very pleased with himself. He had begun to make a new friend. What's more, she was his neighbour! He felt more at ease knowing she would be safely out of the way of the renovation.

#fearplay #giant/tiny #g/t #giant #tiny #borrower #tldr: #Skip 'what is he thinking' #Will 'No thoughts head empty'

[deltas-writing-corner]

Courtship (4): The Gargoyle Graveyard

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Author note: Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I apologize for having a very inconsistent writing schedule. I'm going to make it my goal to update on a bi weekly basis instead of leaving you all in silent limbo. Also a reminder I suck at figuring out which warnings to put so if there's something that needs to be forewarned that I failed to disclose please lmk!

Warnings: Mentions of heavy bodily injuries | childhood trauma/neglect | discussions/mentions of discrimination | mentions of virginity/sexual history

Previous chapter | Next Chapter

AO3 version

Clay. Stone. Porcelain. Plaster. Metal. There are even gargoyles carved entirely of wood! Some statues are stand-alone works of art while others are part of a clear collection or series of similar inspiration. They even come in all sorts of shapes and sizes; as small as an apple or a towering height to rival Malleus himself. No matter what, each grotesque has been crafted with the utmost consideration, by well seasoned and knowing hands. Even the ones that have clear defects and cannot serve their intended purpose are free of overabundant ivy, weeds, or dust. There’s a clear degree of love and care the family who makes these statues has for their craft that makes him feel less alone in his interest in an uncherished form of art.

“It should be around here somewhere,” you muse aloud. Ever since he expressed interest in seeing more sculptures made with non-traditional materials, you’ve been keeping your eye out for a particular one that would fulfill his yearning. You eventually find it and eagerly point to it. “There it is!”

Malleus watches as you approach a massive-sized statue covered with a thick and half-wet tarp. He helps you remove the cover, revealing a winged and slightly humanoid canine. There are many more grotesques with a similar design, but what makes this one stand out the most is the material it’s made out of.

“Amazing!” Malleus awes. “I’ve never seen a grotesque of this size made entirely of glass! They’ve even managed to maintain their attention to detail despite such an abnormal material choice.”

“You can even see the inner channel where the water would flow in and redirect out of its mouth,” you notice.

“They even went out of their way to make it functional despite it being unfit for actual installation?” Malleus inquires with disbelief. “Such a shame.”

“If you’re looking to buy anything here, I’m afraid it's a lost cause. One of the first warnings the grandfather gave me is that none of these are for sale.”

“What was his second warning?”

“If we damage anything, even as small as a scratch, he’ll kill us.”

“How charming,” he chuckles. “I cannot blame him. These statues must take weeks to complete. Time is a human’s greatest enemy.”

“For some, sure. But when I went to visit the family and talked to the old man, he was lunging around all this heavy equipment like he was still in his prime,” you recall. “He lives for his craft. If there’s anything humans are at risk of their entire lives, it’s a lack of motivation and reason to live.”

“I suppose that’s true, but the lifespan of humans and the inevitable effects of aging is difficult to live with, especially once it begins to hinder one’s ability to do what one could previously do without issue. ”

“You’re not wrong,” you acknowledge. “But I think I’d rather live a short life with fulfillment than a dull, long-as-shit life.”

To show that he’s entirely on your side, Gunter lets out a guttural bark while his tail rapidly wags and thumps the damp ground, coating the ends of his bushy tail in specs of dirt and dirtied, remnant snow of the north that has managed to stay frozen on the isles warmer south end.

“You’re only agreeing with them because you’ve been promised food,” Malleus chastises. “Don’t think I didn’t pick up on your grumbling stomach.”

“And don't think I didn't pick up on your stomach rumbling either your highness," you quip back at him. "The family has a small cottage nearby we can use. We'll settle down for a bit and eat before sightseeing some more."

Before you turn and walk in the direction towards the aforementioned lodgings, you reach your hand out for Malleus to take and he latches onto you with restrained enthusiasm. He's taller than you, but he takes care not to take his normal strides as to not leave you struggling to keep up with him. Gunter doesn't know the way, so he trots beside you every step of the way up until the destination is in plain view. The cottage is small but well-attended. There’s a rustic flair to its construction that makes it feel familiar and safe despite never stepping foot in it before.

"Those gargoyles were something, huh?" you remark to him while you tap and shake off the gunk wedged into the soles of your heavy boots against the frame of the door.

"Indeed," he nods, taking your cloak off for you and hanging it on the wooden rack nearby. "I don't think I've ever seen that many gargoyles in one day. Just when my eyes land upon an intriguing one, there's several more that catch my attention."

The way he gets all wide-eyed is outright adorable. It makes you grin just as enthusiastically too. "I bet your club is going to have a field day once you tell them about this!"

His child-like smile turns into one of disappointment. "I'm certain they would, if I wasn't the sole member that is."

Your hands halt from pulling out and setting down all the premade food out of your pack. "Seriously? You're the only one?"

When he nods his head, you feel a twinge of hurt in your heart. Poor guy. You can only imagine how disappointing it must be to go through all those lengths to start a club (you would know since you're technically a staff member of the school and have been given a rundown on some of the school's functions and regulations) only for no one to show interest. Of course, you completely understand that gargoyles aren't exactly all the rage within the minds of teenage boys. Still! He goes through so much effort to build relationships with his peers but they always cower away, either due to his status or even because of the way he looks. You won’t deny that he does come off as rather intimidating at first glance, but he's a sweet guy once you give him the chance to speak.

But to expect teenagers going through social pressures and demanding academics to be as understanding and willing to understand someone like Malleus is an impossible demand. Given that everyone in the school can be a bunch of self-centered and easily agitated bunch of pricks, it's understandable that most of the student body isn't keen on trying to take into consideration the proper etiquette one needs to consider in the presence of a young and noble fae. Deuce has met and talked briefly with Malleus on one occasion, but even he visibly shakes whenever his name is mentioned, even in casual passing.

Wait until they found out who you've gone and gotten buddy-buddy with behind their back. They probably think they're slick or that their intentions are well swept under the rug, but it's clear they feel some semblance of responsibility for your well-being, as both a magicless individual as well as a close, albeit older, friend. You dread the day people begin to make the connections between Malleus and you, but you still can’t help but wonder what their reactions might be. You also dread the high probability those two idiots are going to find out and embarrass the living hell out of you, which you know you do not have the patience or tolerance for.

Gunter jumps up and sits himself down in one of the wooden dining chairs, pushing the small ceramic plate towards you with his nose, as if telling you "Alright, I’ve done what I said I'd do, now feed me what I'm owed." You tell him that you'll give him what he's well earned after you get a small fire started in the brick fireplace. Just because it's warmer near the southern half of the island and not as heavily blanketed with snow, doesn't mean the cold has completely vanished, Winter is still winter after all.

"Where did these scars come from?"

Malleus' unexpected question and closeness nearly make you drop the iron rod you've been using to stoke the growing fire. You've since taken off your boots and rolled up the bottoms of your pants just above your knee as the room starts to warm up enough for a thin layer of perspiration to accumulate and roll down your skin. The scars he's referring to are the ones on your right leg, both side by side at an awkward angle and discolored. You have a lot more scars than these, some much more gruesome in appearance than these two. Malleus has never asked about your scars, but sometimes you catch him looking in the general area of some that peak through your clothes. He likely keeps quiet about their existence out of courtesy.

Yet out of all the markings on your body, why did these two stand out enough that he'd finally ask about them?

"It's a long story," you say in an effort to stall the topic. "Sit. I'll feed you two once the fire is stable."

He doesn’t push you for an answer, instead simply doing as you say and lets you poke at the burning logs until they're properly aflame on their own. You made mostly some of your morning favorites; Creamy and thick potato stew with diced carrots and peas and some eggs, ham, and crispy hash browns sandwich between homemade halved croissants. You teased him about having picky taste buds earlier, but Malleus is content to eat anything you serve him so long as it is not comparable to the likes of Lilia's atrocious cooking.

(Seriously, how does a man as old as Lilia not know the basic fundamentals of cooking? And why does everything he makes end up burnt and tasting like something rotten? You will never understand.)

"Don't eat too quickly," you warn Gunter as you pour a bit of light-colored soup onto his designated plate. Your words are ignored, as the equally marred wolf sloppily slurps and munches on the few bits of potatoes and vegetables you generously scraped out of the thermos. His food is gone as quickly as it’s put in front of him and he looks at you expecting more.

"No. The rest is mine," you scold. "And don't beg Malleus for some either! I know you do it behind my back, you little shit!"

He turns to look at Malleus with an accusatory glare, thinking that he ratted him out to you. Malleus’s response towards the silent imputation is to turn and look out the window as if something caught his interest all of a sudden, cup raised to his lips as he politely sips away at his meal without an air of calmness. You have to slap a hand over your mouth to hide the amusement that overtakes your senses.

"Malleus, stop that!"

"Stop what?" he innocently asks.

"Stop making me want to laugh!"

He sets his cup down onto its matching serving dish. "It's not my fault you have an easily satiable sense of humor."

"Wow!" you say incredulously and put your arms up in offense. "And here I was thinking we were friends!"

His distant demeanor breaks and you both devolve into a fit of laughter together. Gunter unfortunately takes advantage of your joint distraction and slips away with a warm sandwich between his jaw, your sandwich in particular.

"That damn wolf!" you curse. "I knew I should have trusted my gut and pack extras.”

Malleus pities your distress before moving over to sit closer. "Worry not. I'll split mine in half with you,” he reassures.

"No, it's fine," you immediately dismiss his offer. "Have it for yourself."

"I'm not taking no for an answer," he firmly states. “Don’t be stubborn. It’s far too early for that.”

"I thought you liked it when I was stubborn?” you pout.

He shakes his head with a smile. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t”

"At least someone likes my attitude,” you say after chewing and swallowing a mouthful of soup. “Sebek certainly doesn’t."

"The boy is stubborn as well. When two equally stubborn individuals cross paths, you will witness nothing but discord between the two."

"Add the fact I'm human into the mix, and we'll be exchanging fists instead of words sooner or later," you scoff. "I get that some faes don't like humans, but what's his deal with acting like he’s got a vendetta against me?"

"Sebek doesn't hate humans for the reasons you might think," Malleus admits. "It’s more like he finds them difficult to think that highly of. Did you know that he is half-human?"

You nearly choke on your own breath over the sudden revelation. "Really?"

"Indeed," Malleus finds amusement at your disbelief. "Have you ever wondered why his ears aren't pointed like Silver, but his eyes are like mine and Lilia’s?"

"Damn,” you scratch the back of your head with embarrassment. “Now I feel stupid.”

"You aren't. Given the way he speaks, not many would assume he had human blood in his veins. His mother was highly regarded within her social circle, but her marriage to a human man tarnished her reputation a great deal. She's happy and does not seem to care what others think of her these days. However, when Sebek set out to be a knight, his mother's marriage and his lineage were often brought up as a way to scrutinize his character and capabilities rather than any of his actual shortcomings as an individual."

"Poor kid," you sigh. "Lilia told me those sorts of things still happen in The Valley, but it sounds so outlandish that I couldn’t take it that seriously."

"Many faes hold old traditions above all else, to a degree that the purity of one's blood stands above all other merits." His eyebrows pressed together in annoyance. "Even my grandmother thinks it's archaic, but as the reigning queen she has to embody a persona of neutrality between the social divide."

"It sounds like you have your work cut out for you in the future," you say, almost apologetically. "What do you plan to do about it once you're the king?"

There's a brief flash of surprise over your question, but Malleus easily answers it as usual. "I think my first course of action as king would be to properly knight Sebek and Silver."

"Bet my rifle that Sebek is going to cry the entire ceremony!" you remark with certainty. "That's all he ever goes on about, being a knight and all."

"He's devoted countless hours and efforts since he was a child. If there's anyone who deserves to join the knighthood, it's him."

"Definitely," you nod to further cement your agreement with him. "He could stand to lower his voice a bit. He'll give you tinnitus before long.”

"At least we won't have to worry about losing him in a crowd," Malleus jests.

"That's to say we'll lose sight of him to begin with," you remark. "He'll gladly lose me in a crowd. You? You'd be lucky to get out of arm's length."

"You underestimate me, dearest," Malleus smirks. "Ever since I've met you, I've perfected the art of avoiding Sebek's insistent searches."

"Have you now?" you razz back. "Don't let him catch onto the fact. He'll have my head."

He reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Each second his skin touches yours makes you tingle. Time slows down ever so briefly if only to savor the small instance of physical connection for as long as possible. "What of your aunts?" he inquires. "Are they as overprotective of you as Sebek is of myself?"

"They’re a trio of mama bears," you proudly admit. "I'm old enough to drink and well equipped to fend for myself, but in their minds, I'll always be the little tyke that couldn't even eat their meals without looking at them for approval. Especially my aunt Gia."

You have three aunts. There's your aunt Marisol, the mother of most of your cousins and the main caretaker of the household. Your second aunt Lucia was well into her studies at university when you came to live with them, but her stress and long hours of mulling over her course materials paid off in the long run. Your gardening skills wouldn't be what they are now without her expertise in agricultural botany.

Then there's your aunt Gia. Oldest of the three. An absolute tank of a woman. No spouse. No kids of her own. She lived off the land like an absolute titan. The woman raised you as if she was the one that carried you for nine months and not your actual birth mother.

How would you describe your parents? If your parents were told to list out their priorities in life, their careers would be at the top of the list and you would be put at the very bottom. Why they carried you to term is beyond your understanding. You later learned that Gia had even offered to take you under her care well before your birth, knowing that your parents might not be well-suited to take care of you in the way she thinks would be beneficial for you. It was a convenient offer that would have saved everyone the trouble years down the line when you had your accident. They worked in a cutthroat industry and were constantly moving up the executive echelons. They had no time for you, yet their pride as a pair of young, successful business magnates made them incapable of seeing past the reality of the situation. That left you mostly in the care of last-minute caretakers and your aunts, but only if they had time from their own busy and preoccupied lives to come out into the city and visit.

You were eight years old when things started to get better, but it was upstarted in the worst possible way. Your parents had to go away for the upcoming weekend for work and left you in the care of a babysitter as per the norm. The babysitter never showed up however and your parents apparently couldn’t be bothered to check up on you even once the entire trip. Their silence wasn’t surprising. You just went on about your business for the next three days on your own like nothing was wrong. Your aunt Gia had even called at one point to check up on you, but you didn’t bother to tell her that your parents had left you to fend for yourself. She would have exploded if you did, but not as much as she did when you woke up in the hospital after falling down the stairs and lying helplessly on the ground for several hours with a dislocated shoulder and a compound-fractured leg. You were lulling in and out of consciousness due to all the medication pumped into you, but what little you do remember seeing and hearing when you regained consciousness will forever stick with you for the rest of your life.

If people think your level of swearing is bad, they should have heard your aunt that day. She swore so viciously that it could set an innocent bystander's eardrums on fire. What will forever stand out the most to you was the fact that your parents didn’t even look the least bit apologetic or regretful. They didn’t even approach you once your aunt was done giving them a piece of her mind to check up on you. They simply talked with the awaiting social worker and doctors and then left. It was for the better, but the small part of you that continued to hold onto the desperate belief that your parents would come around one day sent you into a thrashing frenzy and you had to be sedated before you could hurt yourself anymore.

The next year was spent recovering from your injuries, meeting regularly with your caseworker, and going through therapists like a pack of cigarettes. By the time you were back on your feet and the legal proceedings of your custody case were concluded, all you wanted was to move on with it all. Nearly a decade of neglect left you this unattentive, uncertain husk of a person who couldn’t take a single step forward without looking for some sort of guidance or assurance. Your family was exhausted by the entire ordeal and over speaking with third parties. Your aunts took it upon themselves to help you regain your sense of self in the comfort of your new home, no matter how difficult or demanding it was going to be.

“It took some time, but eventually it clicked in my mind that I was in a better place and I started to get better. As for my parents, I have no clue what they’re up to these days.” You lean back into your chair and let out a shaking yawn. “I like to think they’re getting on well like I am.”

“I don’t understand.” Malleus looks at you with unbelievable confusion. “Your parents treated you poorly, yet you don’t sound the least bit resentful. Why is that?”

You shrug your shoulders. “What’s the point? I'm in a better place now, so I've let bygones be bygones. 'Doesn't mean I don't harbor any anger against them anymore. I do, but getting upset won't change what's happened to me."

Gunter, having sensed your discomfort over the matter, trots over and rests his head on your lap. You gratefully rub the top of his head, carding your hands through his thick, coarse hair. "I'm just glad they let me go without a fuss. Family court was hell for my family.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Expensive too.”

Crackling wood fills the momentary silence that befalls the small cottage. What you've recollected to Malleus is a lot to take in, and if you're being quite honest you'd prefer if he just dropped the subject and talked about literally anything else right now. You hope he doesn't say he's sorry or any other type of apologetic comment. That's all you were ever told that entire year it all happened, during court proceedings, your rehabilitation, by both strangers and distant family members alike.

"I'm so sorry. What happened to you was unfortunate. You didn't deserve it."

No shit you didn't deserve any of that. You were a kid. You don’t need one pity party after another to realize that what took place then had fucked you forever. But as you said earlier, you're in a better place now, with a loving and supportive family that's moved on alongside you. A family you need to get back to as soon as possible.

"I love you."

Well, if he was hoping to take your mind off the past. that certainly did it. How can it not? It came out of nowhere and as good as you are at holding your composure when need be, you're sure you look no less like a gaping fish when warm and plush softness presses right against the corner of your lips. A kiss. His kiss.

"What's wrong?" Your voice sounds shaky. You’re nervous.

"Nothing," he smiles reassuringly. "I simply said what I felt needed to be said."

"Fair enough" you concede easily. He was going to say it sooner or later. He already has actually, now that you think about it. Yet here you are trying to process his words like it’s rocket science.

"Am I going about this too fast perhaps?" he genuinely asks. His hands that have been busy massaging your calves that have settled across his lap somewhere during your long retelling gradually slow down, but his hands never go completely still. "This is my first time experiencing something like this."

"What?" You sit up a bit straighter. "A relationship?"

"Yes."

Your head tilts to the side. "Really?"

He nods hesitantly "Yes?"

For a moment, you go completely quiet. "I don't believe you,” you doubtfully say, head shaking to further showcase your refusal to believe him.

He must not have liked your remark, frowning with clear offense in his eyes. When he dislikes something, the vertical slits in his eyes contract into a thin line. "I cannot lie, yet you still doubt me?"

"I know you can't lie, but I find it hard to believe you haven't been with anyone else before," you explain. Before you can consider the appropriateness that was your newfound curiosity about Malleus's apparently non-existent love life, you blurt out, "Are you still a virgin?"

You slap your hand over your mouth the moment those words come out of it. He's equally caught off guard and nearly drops his warm cup of coffee. Even Gunter is surprised by your question, olive-colored eyes looking at you as if you've lost your mind. It's an invasive question, inappropriate even. You and Malleus have been dating for a little over two days. A question like that is way too early to bring up just yet.

"You don't have to answer that," you tell him behind your palm. "I shouldn't have even asked it. Forget I ever brought it up-”

"I'm not," he interrupts you, leaving you even more shocked than you already are. You’re practically gaping like a fish by now. "I'm not a virgin,” he further insinuates.

A deafening silence, but it’s eventually broken by yourself. “I still don’t believe you.”

Malleus gets further annoyed at your refusal to accept his truth. "I'm not lying!" he insists.

"Bullshit!"

"Do you want me to recount my history to you?" he asks, exasperated as you are at the shift the conversation is taking. "Will that satisfy your doubts?"

"You know what? It will!" you loudly declare. "Who'd you sleep with?"

"He was a young page at the time,” he reminisced. “It happened before I was a century old.”

Your eyebrows raise with intrigue. "Was he cute?"

"Yes," he hushedly agrees. The disconcerting admittance paints his face a pinkish-red glow. "But that's not why I bedded him."

"But surely his looks are what made you interested in the first place?” you make blatant regard of the fact.

“You’re not wrong,” he acknowledges, expertly avoiding agreeing with you outright. “But his looks aren't the sole reason I was drawn to him. He was bright-eyed and ambitious, to the point you’d think him insane given his position in the court. It was also the first time I ever truly met with a group of humans, and my young mind was eager to get a more accurate perspective of humans that wasn’t through the lens of my tutors.”

“An ‘accurate perspective’?” You make playful air quotes, eyebrows wiggling because you know the fact that he knows what you’re implying. The playful comment is met with a sharp pinch on your leg that makes you jump and shriek out in pain. Did he have to dig his nails into you? Apparently so, and now you have small crescent indents on your skin. “I bet Lilia had a good laugh when he found out.”

“He doesn’t know, actually,” he admits to you with what is obviously a proud smile.

“Now I know you’re lying to me,” you scoff. “Nothing escapes the old man’s radar.”

His hands begin to rub out the marks he’s left on you as a form of apology. “Lilia is sharp, but he had lost most of his vigor by the time I was born.”

You go wide-eyed again. “You mean his hearing and eyesight was better than it is now?”

He nods affirmatively. “From what I’ve been told, terrifyingly so.”

Lilia is already frightening as is. His short stature and boyish looks make him perfectly unassuming to those who don’t know any better. You once watched him beat up a couple of bulky, twice-his-height students from Savanaclaw without breaking a sweat, yet moments before he was jokingly scolding himself for dozing off so easily. You never once thought he was ever out of his elements. A cold chill runs down your spine thinking how much more perceptive the older fae may have been back during his prime years.

“Wonder what Lilia’s gonna think,” you ponder out loud in a quick effort to banish out the skin-prickling mental imagery your mind was invoking. “About us, I mean.”

Malleus seems surprised that you would change the topic to that of all things, but his initial shock goes away as quickly as it came. “As you may have guessed, he’s an open-minded individual, but he’s also very realistic and unafraid to say what’s on his mind.”

“So what does that mean for you and me?” you question with a bit of hesitation.

“Well,” he trails off and ponders for a moment. “He’ll surely like the scandal our relationship would invoke. However, as my caretaker and mentor, he won’t hesitate to put an end to it if he feels it necessary.”

Had it been anyone else sitting beside you, you’d have found that comment way too extreme and outright ridiculous. However, you are not speaking to anyone ordinary. You are not sitting before someone normal. It doesn't matter how well you get along with him. It sure as hell doesn't matter how deeply in love you are with him, and him of you. The moment you have been deemed a shortcoming, the outings, the closeness, it all stops. All of it will come crashing down and both you and him will be left wondering what could have been done differently.

Malleus is truly your best friend, because already he can tell that your mind is beginning to spiral even when you go quiet. He calls for your attention by gripping his hand around your bare ankle and carefully tugging the end of your limb. “Don’t fret over it too much,” he soothes, yet also sounding like he’s scolding you for letting your mind wander off so negatively. “Lilia is an exceptional judge of character. From what I’ve gathered, you’ve well exceeded all his marks. He trusts you, and to gain such a thing from someone as old and wise as him is an extraordinary feat.”

You brew over the attempted compliment he tried to pay to you. Unfortunately, it doesn’t snub out all these festering thoughts in your head. It doesn’t even give you temporary relief. Perhaps it would have brought you a sense of peace a few months ago, but with everything that has happened thus far, you doubt even Malleus can alleviate the storm that rattles inside you, even if what he speaks is without a doubt nothing but the truth.

Surely he can see that you are still having some hangups. When you lift his hand and plant a chaste kiss on the back of his hand, you hope he can decipher the gesture as a pitiful request for his forgiveness for dampening the once energetic mood. He is not at fault for your loss and inability to think optimistically at the moment and you need to make sure he knows it.

Today is about him, not you. Even if it’s just for today, you’ll put on a pleasant facade and worry about the rest at a later date. It’s just you and him, and for now, that’s enough.

You do a mental countdown starting from three, before finally giving him a late response to the three words he uttered in confidence to you earlier. “I love you too, by the way.”

You love him. You love him. You love him. That’s all his mind can think of for the rest of the day. He replays your reciprocation over and over like it’s sacred and all-powerful.

He had planned to return to his dorm before the sun began to set, but he found the mere idea of detaching from you deeply unwanted and made the last-minute decision to spend the evening at the Ramshackle dorm. He already has a few articles of clothing and personal essentials set up in one of the many empty rooms, so neither Lilia nor you had any objections at his sudden request.

“Don’t worry!” You shout across the room so that Lilia can hear you over his phone. “I’ll make sure he gets to bed on time!”

“You have my gratitude!” Lilia’s muffled voice responds gratefully. “Don’t cause too much trouble now, you two.”

“No promises~” you sing in jest before Malleus hangs up. Once the call ends Johnny, Benji, Franky, and you turn their attention back to their ongoing game of poker. Malleus watches and occasionally laughs to himself over the friendly banter shared between the quartet. At the end of every round, the winner is assaulted with colorful profanities whilst they take their newly won gambling chips with ebullience. Yet with each new dealing of cards, the animosity goes away and they’re all back to being friendly. He finds your interactions with your incorporeal roommates more entertaining than the book he’s been reading to pass the time.

“Hey, fairy boy,” Franky informally calls out toward him. “Don’t be a stranger now. Play a few rounds with us.”

“I’m afraid I’m not well versed in card games,” he admits, yet he still finds himself setting his literature aside and moving over to join them.

“Don’t worry,” you give him a reassuring smile. “They’ll go easy on you.”

“For how long?” he knowingly asks.

You give him an impressed smirk at his quick uptake. “I give it three rounds before they start to pull back their sleeves.”

Malleus is well-adjusted to the need to quickly learn a new topic and the expectation for him to fully comprehend it in full. None of them are harsh on him for his minor mistakes like some of the tutors he’s had in the past. Answers that he believes may be obvious or not as complicated as he thinks they are being answered with enthusiastic patience. The smallest achievements he makes are met with a proud response. When he makes a surprise turnabout and wins his first game, he’s rewarded with an encouraging round of applause by everyone.

“Not bad,” Benji praises as he shuffles the deck of cards. “You’re a fast learner.”

“So I’ve been told,” he humbly replies. “Is this the part where you all stop going easy on me now?”

“Don’t provoke them,” you half-heartedly warn. “Otherwise we’ll be up all night duking it out otherwise.”

Franky sets his glass of iced liquor down on the edge of the table. “Don’t you little lovebirds worry. We won’t take up too much of your well-needed time together.”

Annoyed at the clear jab at his relationship with you, you throw one of your chips towards his head. It passes through his body and clatters on the floor behind him. Your fawn Blossom jumps down from their spot on the couch and goes to sniff it, thinking it to be food, but walks away with a disappointed strut when he realizes it isn’t anything edible.

“I didn’t tell them a damn thing,” you defensively clarify. “It was so obvious what was going on between us that they figured it all out before we made it official.”

He lets out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That’s...I can’t say I’m too pleased to hear about that.”

“We won’t say anything,” Franky reassures. “Just make sure to put a sock on the door whenever you guys want some alone time.”

“Franky!” you hiss at him. “What the hell?!”

“What?” he looks at you, unbothered by your clear embarrassment. “Do you honestly expect us to think you guys went out just to look at a bunch of statues?”

“Oh, I’m sure they were looking at something,” Johnny smirks. “It wasn’t made of stone though.”

“I hate you guys,” you growl out, arms crossing and leaning back into your seat with an angry huff. You don’t mean it. He can see the tremble of your lips as you try to contain the urge to grin. “Even if we did end up rolling around in the sheets, I wouldn’t be yapping about it for all to hear, much less you guys!”

“What happens in the gargoyle graveyard stays in the gargoyle graveyard, eh?” Franky winks at both Malleus and you, nudging you with his elbow.

“Exactly!” you affirm, batting the large ghost away from you for some much-needed distance. “Now stop being so damn nosy.”

They cackle one last time and everyone seamlessly goes back to their ongoing game. Conversations like the one that just concluded are commonplace in your dormitory. Even if he contributed next to nothing to the discussion, he enjoys watching them interact. You come from a world where ghosts are hardly as overt as the ones in this world. Ghosts are said to entertain themselves by picking on the living, to the point that it can be fatal. Your ability to come up with witticisms at a moment's notice is something he enjoys seeing in action. He feels great satisfaction not only knowing that he has secured your love but to also see you in a state of tranquility and within your elements.

As Benji and you have a hushed conversation on the sidelines, he reaches over and places his hand on your knee beneath the table. You quietly reach over and put your hand over his, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb like it’s instinctual. Unfortunately, the heart-fluttering moment is ruined by the sudden buzzing of his phone. He has half a mind to ignore it, but when he gives the screen a glance he realizes ignoring the caller is not an option.

“I’ll be out for a moment,” he excuses himself once he sets his hand down and stands himself upright. “This shouldn’t take that long, hopefully.”

They all stop to look up at him inquisitively for half a second. In unison, they ask, “Sebek?”

“Sebek,” he affirms.

There are simultaneous displays of annoyance, pity, and silent wishes of good luck directed at him. He’s tempted to ask where all this contempt for the boy comes from, but then he remembers the many times Sebek barges his way into their dorm at the worst possible moments. It is either when everyone is beginning to settle down after a long day or in the middle of an important house project, the former more so than the latter now that the dorm is much more stable and in need of less restoration. Malleus learned the hard way how ill you and the ghosts will react when your peace is unwantedly interrupted and your space invaded by an unwanted guest.

Sebek is also quick to scrutinize whatever he sees out loud without a filter. You never seem to mind half of the time, merely rolling your eyes and moving past Sebek’s ill-meaning remarks as if you never heard them. As you are someone Malleus highly regards and holds close to his bosom, he hopes Sebek can one day set aside his strife with humankind and give you the due diligence you deserve.

...Though, he completely understands that reaching that point will take time. While you can endure Sebek to a certain degree, there are times where he, unfortunately, pushes you past that threshold and, without flinching, you will tell him to “Shut the fuck up”. Your words, not his.

“Young master!” Sebek's transmitted voice peaks and he has to half pull it away to give his pained eardrums some relief. “I was informed by Lord Lilia that you will be spending the night over at the Human’s dorm. Have you all your accommodations at their estate? If not, I will swiftly-”

“That won’t be necessary,” he half laughs at his enthusiasm over such a small task. “I have enough to keep me comfortable and well for a few days. Your offer is still very much appreciated.”

“Y-Yes, of course,” he stutters. “If there’s anything you should ever find a need for, please inform me at once! I will fulfill your every wishes no matter the hour!”

He’s enthusiastic and ready to act at a moment’s notice, even during the middle of a cold and dark hour. Malleus doesn’t necessarily dislike this part of Sebek, but he’s starting to understand why someone like you would find such subservience difficult to deal with. At any moment, Malleus could ask Sebek to grab some insignificant item of his and tread through the thick snow to deliver it to him, and the boy would do so with jubilation and utmost timeliness. You on the other hand wouldn’t be caught dead ordering someone to do something on your behalf when you believe you are well and capable of doing it yourself.

You don’t put expectations onto the backs of others, choosing to trust yourself first before anyone else. He knows now that it’s a result of the one instance where you expected something from someone, only to be thoroughly let down and left wondering if it was you who did something wrong.

Malleus cannot make up for the pain you’ve been subjected to, but he hopes that he can become the outlier in your life that surpasses any preconceived notions you may hold onto others. He hopes...No, he absolutely will be the one who brings you your well-earned and deserved joy and repose, just as you have done for him and continue to do so.

You love him, and he will ensure he is worthy of every last drop of your fidelity.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst writing #twst fanfic #fanfic: courtship #reader insert #reader insert fanfic #reader insert fanfiction #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #x reader

[a-storm-of-roses]

October Fic Day 23: Orange

Pairing: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard

Rating: G

Words: 1097

Summary: Interior decorating disagreements, Rodney's citrus allergy, and a massive coffee mug. John just wants to know Rodney's favorite color.

A/N: Running a bit behind here!

Read on AO3 or below!

John doesn’t notice until they move into their first Earth house together, when they finally combine the scraps of the lives they abandoned over a decade before.

Rodney has an unsurprising amount of boxes - he didn’t give up his Colorado Springs apartment until well into their third year, and John had only seen it once, but he’d been struck by just how much of a pack rat Rodney was, the pure amount of stuff he had. Bits of electronics and books and comics and a small collection of lego models that made John feel tender in a way he couldn’t account for at the time.

But it’s been over half a decade of them, and John’s past feeling tender, and on to the part of the relationship where he just feels quiet exasperation, every time he has to shift the Millenium Falcon, just to dust the bookcase.

For his own part, John has just a few boxes, most of which he donates immediately. He’d shoved them into storage after the divorce, had left them alone for nearly twenty years. He salvages a few family heirlooms - his grandfather’s pocket knife, pictures of his mother, his childhood teddy bear. Everything else goes.

So the house is mostly Rodney’s junk, some useful, some not, and the new things they gather, the consumerist evidence of life they are building together. They pick out dishes and duvets and a sofa, and for two men without a lick of style or taste, they seem to argue quite a bit over the selection. The resulting compromise leaves them with a house furnished in dark blues and greys, but they never discuss the way this particular color palette is both home and not.

Still, against the muted, modern style of the house, some things become noticeable.

There’s the bright, pumpkin-colored blanket, a bit ratty, but still soft, that Rodney finally stows in the back of their car, just in case of emergencies.

Rodney’s preferred coffee mug, massive, and a hideous orange so bright that it reminds John of cheetos. It holds nearly as much liquid as two of their other, normal-sized mugs, and Rodney swears by it, reaches for it first thing every morning as the coffee drips down into the carafe.

Rodney has a truly appalling collection of graphic tees, most of which never made it to Atlantis, so John doesn’t think much of the soft, Garfield shirt he sometimes wears to work in the garage. He doesn’t question the carrot-patterned boxers either.

There’s the mango-colored shot glasses, and the desk-lamp that seems to shimmer like a goldfish. And of course, Rodney’s highlighter-orange fleece that John does still feel tender towards.

But it isn’t until months in, when John is unpacking a box labelled “winter”, when he pulls out a bright orange, knitted scarf, that it hits.

“Huh,” he says.

“What? Did you find the ice scraper? I know I had one, unless maybe I left it in my old Honda?” Rodney’s digging through another bag, one that he swears was his ‘car stuff’, tossing out an old charging cable and a map of Iowa.

“Is your favorite color orange?” John asks, holding the scarf up, eyeing it skeptically, as if the bright color might somehow taint his black turtleneck.

“What? Of course not, why would you think that? Do adults even have favorite colors?”

John shrugs, and notices orange fuzz clinging to his sleeves. He sighs and wonders if there might be a lint roller in the ‘car stuff’ bag.

“Some people do. And you do own an awful lot of orange stuff.” He winces, as he tries in vain to brush the fluff off of his arm.

“What- just because of that scarf? Jeannie knitted that for me, ages ago. She took a class in high school.” It’s still an awfully ugly scarf, but John eyes it a little less hatefully, folds it up and adds it to the closet

“The scarf, the mug, the blanket, that lamp. Hell, the orange fleece you still wear everywhere!”

“Oh! Well, yes, I could see where you might have gotten that impression. It’s, sort of a joke, I guess?” Rodney winces. He doesn’t sound like he finds it funny, more like he’s learned to live with it.

“A joke?”

“Well, Jeannie used to get me orange things, as sort of an inside joke. You know, cause I can’t have oranges? That scarf, a travel mug I used to bring everywhere, just little stuff like that.”

“Right…”

“Well, other people saw, you know, other students, colleagues, lab assistants, people who never really knew what to get me for birthdays or holidays, and in their limited imagination, they all just started buying me orange things. I tossed most of it,” Rodney shrugs. “You should have seen the truly garish laptop case I got one year. But I kept the stuff that was useful.”

“That Garfield shirt?” John asks, and Rodney barks out a laugh.

“It is pretty comfortable. Besides, it doesn’t hurt to have a shirt you can cover in oil stains.”

Rodney turns back to the bag, and, a minute later, emerges victorious, brandishing not one, but two ice scrapers.

As they bundle up, head out to defrost and de-ice the car, John pauses to ask, “So what is your favorite color then? Seems like something I should know.”

Rodney fumbles with the laces on his boots, tugs on a glove. “What is this, the first day of kindergarten? I don’t have one.”

“Let’s say you have to choose a mug. And it comes in every color you can imagine. The mugs are all the same, just the color is different. What color do you choose?”

“Oh, I suppose that makes your favorite color black, then?” Rodney asks sarcastically.

“It’s blue, actually,” John replies, his eyes meeting Rodney’s.

Rodney smiles soppily, and shakes his head, grins self-deprecatingly.

“Green, I guess.” Rodney replies after a while, and really he should have expected it, but John’s heart flips a little. It surprises him, but Rodney still makes his heart flip, even after all this time.

Later, with a thoroughly de-iced car, they head to the store. As Rodney compares the merits of various trail mixes, John heads to the homewares. He finds the biggest mug they have, and selects it in a dark, forested green. Later at home, he’ll swap it out with the orange mug, relegate that to the garage, maybe fill it with the loose washers he seems to find everywhere.

He adds a matching blue mug to the cart as well, just for good measure.

#Interior deisgn is not their strong suit #Ever mention once that you like cows? #And then every gift you ever get again is cow themed? #This is what happened to Rodney #But with a color scheme instead #mcshep

[snoodlebeans]

so i made a little fanfic for my gf @squishybellies cause i suddenly got a huge desire to write about our kinnies being gay >:3

(tw for implied violence and some gore)

"Darling, I'm home!~"

The monstrous figure's baritone voice fills the halls as he enters through the front door, having to hunch down in order to keep from destroying its frame. The tips of his horns just barely scrape against the ceiling as he lumbers towards the living room, toothy grin wide and eyes gleaming in delight. He had just returned from a very successful hunting trip, with one hand the size of a human's torso dragging in a blood-soaked bag holding a decent amount of flesh inside. The pungent smell of iron begins to fill the house - a four-course meal to his senses. Once he reached the kitchen he turns his gaze towards the massive cauldron resting in the left corner; dropping the bag besides it, he goes to fetch some water. It would take a few hours for it all to boil and simmer, especially when adding the spices and vegetables - they'd have to soften up, so preparing today's meal had to start early.

Only when his back is turned does the floor directly beneath the now unattended meat turn an inky mix of purplish-black. Wisps of energy seep out into the air as a clawed wing emerges from below, its gold-embedded skin shining in the dying light of the day. It gropes around for a few moments before catching a feel of flesh held inside burlap, after which the upper half of the creature comes forth: fur lavender in hue, ears and horns hidden by a bicolored jester's cap, a body donning a suit of the same pattern... and an expression that goes beyond hunger into pure greed. As soon as the acrid scent hit his nostrils saliva begins to seep from his jaws, and he glances towards the distracted, hulking figure ahead of him before proceeding to tear into the sack, reaching for the treats inside and stuffing a hunk of raw meat into his mouth before he can be seen and have to wait before food is ready-

"Impatient and impulsive as ever, I see."

The jester froze mid-thievery, cheeks stuffed with flesh as his eyes trailed up towards the coy grin staring down upon him. Sure, Marx's shenanigans can get irritating sometimes, especially when Neil is trying to get things done. But there's something about the jester's actions that render them oddly endearing in a way. What's the word he's looking for? Cutely annoying? That sounds about right.

Marx proceeded to gulp the chunk down whole, slowly retracting his grip from today's catch while maintaining eye contact. His pupils were pinpricks , face crimson now that he's been literally caught red-handed.

"I was hungry-"

"You're always hungry, dear."

There was a pop as the gluttonous comic pushed himself free from his shadowy, multidimensional hideaway, licking his talons clean as he hovered in place, watching as his love worked.

"What'd you get? Some poor guy who just happened to come across you and was an easy catch?"

"A hunter, actually. His screams as I ran my claws through his skin were delightful.~"

"Aw, now I wish I coulda heard 'em..."

With the water poured and the fire beneath starting to glow, the gentleman of a beast turns his attention towards the other parts of the stew: carrots, celery, onions, potatoes, a little bit of parsley just to give it that earthy flavor...

It all gets pushed into the water as it begins to boil, adding to the lovely sound of it bubbling with each chopped piece plopping into place. Soon a lovely aroma fills the air, steam wafting through the open window and into the evening sky.

grrrrmble.

"Still hungry, I assume?~"

Neil gives a deep chuckle before heading over to give Marx a soft kiss on his fluffy cheek. He always seemed to taste of cotton candy - not exactly Neil's absolutely favorite flavor, he's always been more of a savory kind of monstrosity, but it's quite pleasant in its own way.

The jester giggles a bit in sheepish joy at such a gesture, which he quickly reciprocates with a smooch back.

Y'know, I can never put my finger on what his flavor is...

... Why don't I just get a better taste?

"C'mere.~"

Marx embraces his love in a tight hug before opening wide, jaws popping out of place audibly as his bloated tongue snakes out to gently coil around the chimeric monster's neck, maw closing around Neil's head as he gives a muffled shout of surprise. The jester then begins to swallow noisily, throat bulging outward with his companion's bulky frame as it slides down his gullet inch by inch.

Oh, right. Gotta taste him.

Saliva-coated tissue flicks against Neil's chest and limbs, flavor molecules hitting the jester's tastebuds as he finishes devouring his boyfriend with a loud GLRK. His clothes rip almost immediately, seams around his burgeoning middle tearing to reveal a few fluffy bits of turgid fat, belly nearly touching the floor. Eh, he needed to get a new suit, anyway; he can just use this one for lounging around the house. He sighs, hunger now satisfied and feeling that perfect sensation of overfullness when his gut is stretched to its near limit, warm to the touch and making it harder to walk in that lovely, bloated way-

"Marx honey, I was working on our dinner for tonight, but it seems I can't do that now..."

"Eh, you needed a break. You've been working pretty hard today, so how about I finish it up for you? You can take a break right inside here.~"

Marx pats his overgrown belly with a smug grin, just to emphasize the mischievous situation his love has gotten into.

"Well, I suppose you could-"

"It's settled, then! Just relax while Chef Marx gets it done.~"

Hoisting up his gut with both arms before letting it flop back forward with a noisy SLORSH, Marx snatches up the soup ladle before beginning to stir. A few moments pass, and he abruptly snaps his claws as realization hits him.

"Oh! I figured out what you taste like, sweetie!"

"... And what exactly is that, dear?"

"Kinda like fish with lemon juice squeezed on top of it!"

#BITING AND CHOMPING #writings #chomps #gorlf kinnies!! #kinnies! #cuddly tums #choob #squishybellies

[amayawolfe]

Itsy Bitsy Spider (Chrollo x Fem.Reader)

A/N: fluff, spiders, angst, some harsh language

Word Count: 5262

Summary: Having been born in Meteor City, the majority of your life has been nothing but hardships. Looking back on it, you often wondered how you even made it to adulthood let alone become the treasured partner and wife of eight years to the head of the Phantom Troupe and mother to yours and Chrollo's son.

In the middle of prepping dinner, Chrollo and some of the troupe return from a successful mission. Your husband fills you in on the details as he and a couple of the members begin to help in the kitchen. The peace is suddenly shattered when your six year old comes running into the kitchen terrified, screaming, and claiming there is a monster in his room!

taglist: @to-move-on-means-to-grow @daisies-write

   The menu music to the DVD you were watching gently woke you from your unintentional nap. You blinked your eyes a few times to bring them into focus and stretched your curled up body along the large, overstuffed couch. This particular spot on the couch was often your place of rest unless your husband was home; in which case the couch was hardly ever used.

   Using the remote you turned off the tv and player then pushed yourself up into a sitting position. You snatched up your phone from it's place on the coffee table and checked the time. It was nearly early evening.

   "Guess I should start thinking about what to make for dinner," you said to yourself as you swipe through your phone to check for messages.

   Down in this underground hideout beneath Meteor City, phone signal alone was nearly impossible to receive. Thankfully, one of the family was able to figure out how to set up a computer that would broadcast Wi-Fi into the hideout from a line that went to the surface where a receiver was carefully hidden. This way, you could at least send and receive messages between the family and yourself.

   Your eyebrows rose and a smile touched your lips when you saw that you had a message from your husband, Chrollo.

Luci: Shopping run was successful, we should be home in the evening.

   You smirked a little at the cryptic message. The "shopping run" Chrollo was talking about was actually a heist during a gem and jewelry show. A heist in which you had helped plan out with your husband and three other family members.

   You glowered down at your phone when you realized the message had been sent a little over an hour ago while you were asleep.

   "I really need to get a louder phone," you muttered to yourself as you began to type a response.

You: I just woke up...

You: I haven't started dinner yet, is there anything you or the others would like?

   Phone still in hand you got to your feet and head in the direction of your son's room. As you walk through the hideout your sock covered foot falls are silent from a lifetime of practice. You pass a collection of pictures hanging along the walls. There are photos of you, Chrollo, your son, as well as the rest of the family doing random things a family would do.

 There were a couple from around the holidays and you and Chrollo are watching your son open gifts. Another was on Chrollo's birthday and two of the members had sandwiched his face between two pieces of vanilla cake with strawberry frosting. The look of shock and horror on Chrollo's face had been perfectly captured. While it was one of your favorite photos, he despised it. Chrollo's favorite picture on the wall was of you and him stretched out on the day bed in the library reading a book together while his head was resting on your nearly full term pregnant belly. You had to admit, it was a very cute picture.

   The home was enormous, consisting of s/n's room and his own bathroom, yours and Chrollo's large master bedroom with a large bathroom, a gourmet kitchen, library, study, massive living room, dining hall, training area along with a gym and a pool, a giant vault for looted treasures, multiple guests rooms with their own bathrooms, there was even a "war room" where missions and strategies were discussed.

   All the rooms in the place were lavishly decorated and furnished for maximal comfort. Any electronics and appliances were always top of line. Your husband always insisted on the best of the best for you and the family.

   Upon reaching your son's open door way you peeked in on him and found him laying on his belly on the floor reading a book aloud softly. He had his collection of stuffed animals surrounding him as though they were an audience listening to the story he was telling. A majority of them were a variety of teddy bears of all shapes, colors, and sizes. Ever since he saw a picture of a tiny teddy bear defending a sleeping child from a large monster he had taken a great liking to them.

   S/n's favorite teddy bear was one that Chrollo had asked Machi to make for him during a difficult time for s/n where he was greatly missing his father whenever he went on missions. It was of average size for a teddy bear and had medium brown fur. The button eyes were the same shade of grey blue as Chrollo's and it even had a dark long coat with white fur lining. But how Machi really outdid herself were the little details of a tiny book with a felt cover sewn to the teddy bears paw, the same mark on it's forehead as Chrollo's, and giving the bear little blue green glass bead earrings.

   Your son had been so happy to the point of joyous tears when his father gave him the bear made especially for him. He decided right there and then to name the bear "Sir Brollo." Upon s/n announcing this, you had to bite your tongue so hard it bled to keep yourself from laughing at the bright red look that came over your husband's face.    Sir Brollo had a front row seat sitting right beside s/n as he read. That bear rarely ever left your son's side.

   You rest your head against the door frame as you leaned against it and listened to your son read to his "friends." It saddened you knowing your son had no one to play with except for you and the family when ever they were home. But being the son of the head of the heavily feared and all powerful Phantom Troupe, precautions had to be taken.    There had been a few dangerously close calls of s/n being taken away to be used as revenge or leverage against the Phantom Troupe. Close calls that resulted in a sense of dread and anxiety that never fully went away. Even after Chrollo had gathered the nen techniques needed to build you, your son, and the family this safe place, the possible threat of invasion always weighed heavy in the back of your mind. And poor s/n was never allowed out of the hide out unless he had you or Chrollo and at least three other members of the family with him.

   These constant negative feelings that lingered in the air had taken a toll on your son causing him to become a very nervous and skittish child with a fear of nearly everything. You and the others hoped that, over time, he would be able to shake these fears and stand up to them.

   When your son finished the chapter he was on you lifted your head and gently called his name.    "s/n"

   The child jumped and looked up at you with wide blue grey eyes. His father's eyes. You could feel the sadness in your own eyes form at his frightened expression.

   "I'm sorry kiddo," you said softly and entered his room to kneel down close to him. "I didn't mean to startle you, I just wanted to let you know that your father and some of the family will be home soon."

   "Oh, okay, thank you mommy," s/n replied softly.

   "Is there something special you want for dinner tonight?" you asked.

   "Hmmm, not really. Just, no fish, please," your son wrinkled his nose, "I really don't like fish."

   You couldn't help but laugh aloud at his response. Stroking his soft hair you leaned forward, and kissed him on the forehead.

   "I know, baby, I know. I promise, no fish."

   s/n smiled at your  words and he began to kick his feet in the air just above him.    "Who else will be home?"    "I think your uncles Fei, Phinks, and Shal will be coming in with your dad."

   Right then your phone pinged and vibrated alerting you to a message response. Glancing down at it you saw Chrollo had responded to your previous question.

   "Oh," you said, "speak of the devil."

Luci: I have been asked to put in a request for your famous stew.

   You looked down at s/n, "How does stew sound for dinner?"

   His eyes grew wide and he smiled happily.

   "Yeah!" he cheered as he rolled to one side and pumped a tiny fist into the air. You couldn't help but laugh again and ruffled your son's hair.

   "Alright my silly boy, would you like to help me in the kitchen?"

   "No, I want to keep reading to Sir Brollo and the others," he answered honestly. "I want to finish a few more chapters before time to eat."

   "Okay, I'll come get you when it's time to eat then." You rose to your feet and started to leave the room. At the door way you turned and added, "I love you, sweetie."

   "I love you too, mommy," s/n beamed then returned to his book.

   As you made your way to the kitchen you messaged your husband a reply.

You: I can do that, I'll go ahead and get started. See you soon?

Luci: See you soon, princess.

   You felt the warmth of a blush touch your cheeks. A reaction that always occurred when Chrollo called you by his favorite pet name for you.

   When you entered the massive kitchen you set some upbeat classical music to play from your phone. You loved listening to music while you cooked and baked. You then brought down a large stock pot as well as collected a peeler, knife, mixing bowl, and cutting bored. From the fridge you set out a large chunk of beef, bacon, carrots, and celery. The pantry had the potatoes, flour, beef stock, onions, a bottle of red wine and garlic you needed.

   You really felt like you were getting into the grove as you gave your hands a good scrub. You diced up a few slices of bacon and tossed them into the stock put and turned the stove flame on to a medium high heat. While the bacon started to cook and release the greasy fat you were going to brown the beef cubes in, you cut the beef chunk into bite size pieces with impressive speed and accuracy. Chrollo wasn't the only one good with a knife.

   Once the meat was all cubed you tossed it into the mixing bowl along with some olive oil. Tossing the meat and oil in the bowl until the meat was evenly coated you then added flour, garlic powder, onion powder, season salt, and pepper; stirring it until it the meat was all evenly coated.

   Checking on the bacon and giving it a stir, you decided to let the bacon bits crisp a bit more and started working on dicing up a large yellow onion. Humming along with a playful piece of classical music known as "Thunder and Lightning polka" by Johann Strauss II, you really felt like you had a good rhythm going and was very much engrossed in your work.

   So much so you didn't even notice someone quietly enter the kitchen and walk up behind you. You didn't notice them watching while you worked, waiting for a pause in your actions before placing their hands on your waist.

   You let out a small yelp of surprise as you knocked the persons hands aside and spun around quickly, bringing the sharp edge of the kitchen knife up to your would be assailant's throat. You had expected to see the face of a dangerous stranger. But instead, you where greeted by the warm, familiar face of your husband. There was a small playful smile on his lips and an extra little gleam in his eyes. Chrollo normally wasn't one to sneak up on you like he just did, but he did tend to become mischievously playful after a successful mission. You figured it was most likely from the adrenaline high.

   "Damnit, Chrollo," you hissed as you removed the knife from his neck and leaned back against the counter, "You know better than that. What if I had cut your neck wide open?"    "Mmm, but you didn't," he replied softly.

   You sighed and rolled your eyes, Chrollo was never one to dwell on the "what ifs" of life.

   "I got you a little something, my dear," he stated as he reached into the pocket of his favorite long coat. Your husband was always bringing you little gifts when ever he went on a mission without you.

   From his pocket he with drew a small, dark navy blue velvet box and held it before you. You quickly washed and dried your hands so as to not to get the box all dirty, carefully took the box from his hand and let out a small gasp upon opening it.

   Inside the dainty box was a small rose charm necklace. The piece was masterfully crafted as the delicate petals of the rose were made from chips of rubies while the petals were made of dark green chrome tourmaline chips. Both gems were set in fine gold which also made up the delicate stem of the rose. The chain was made of fine delicate links also in gold.

    "Oh Chrollo," you breathed in awe, "it's absolutely gorgeous."

   Your husband smiled at your reaction, pleased to see you so happy with the piece he had picked out for you. He held up his hand to take back the box.

   "May I?"

   Without a need for question you handed the box back to him. You watched him take the necklace out of the box and he returned the box back to his pocket. You turned around as he held up the necklace and you moved your hair at the way so Chrollo could have unobstructed access to your neck. He stepped closer as undid the delicate little clasp and carefully hung the necklace around your neck.

   After he redid the clasp behind your neck he slid his hands to your shoulders and placed a soft, warm kiss on your neck. Chrollo's breath tickled the fine hairs on the delicate skin causing goosebumps to erupt down your arms.

   "A piece fit for a princess," he whispered against your ear in a low, sultry voice.

   His hands moved down your sides to your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your back flush against his chest, you tilted your head to one side allowing him easy access as his he ran a trail of soft kisses from just below where you neck and shoulder connect to your ear. Chrollo's arms came around your waist and he hugged you tightly as he nuzzled his nose against your ear and breathed against the sensitive flesh. You braced your hands against the counter as your knees started to feel weak.

   Mischievous and playful were not the only moods that overcame Chrollo after a successful job. You looked forward to the private activities that were most likely to take place between you and your husband behind the closed bedroom door later that night.

   "Hey boss, we finished placing all the merchandise into the vault," called a familiar voice, ending the tender moment between you and your husband. As romantic as he could be, Chrollo was never really comfortable showing physical affection in front of the others. Something that both amused and annoyed you the entire eight plus years the two of you had been together.    Your husband gave you one last chaste kiss just below the earlobe before turning to Shalnark walking through the kitchen doorway.

   "Thank you, Shalnark. And what are the others up to?"

   "Oh, they're arguing over what to watch until dinner is done," Shal laughed.

   "Why am I not surprised," you said over your shoulder as you started to scoop the crispy bacon bits out of the stock pot with a slotted spoon. "Say, since you two are here why don't you help me out with peeling and cutting the vegetables? The sooner everything gets into the pot the sooner it'll be done and we can eat."

   "Sure thing!" Shal beamed, causing you to smile. He always seemed so happy to you and reminded you of a little ball of sunshine.

   "I'll go put my coat up and then I'll come back and help," Chrollo replied and strode from the kitchen. Shalnark came over and washed his hands.

   "If you don't mind, could you go ahead and peel and chop up the carrots first?" you asked as you started to add the coated beef cubes to the bacon fat.

   "Yea, I can do that," Shal chirped. He dried his hands and set to work peeling the carrots. "How's everything been here the last few weeks?"

   "Dull and quiet," you said with a sigh as you turned the meat cubes, "it's pretty much the same routine when everyone else is away. Not that I am complaining, really."    "I would hope not," Chrollo entered back into the kitchen without his coat. He was wearing a dark sleeveless shirt with a high collar and some white bands creating a pattern down the front, a dark pair of jeans and white socks. The shirt showed off his toned arms, chest, and shoulders and it enticed you to take a nice, long looks at your beloved.

   "'Dull and quiet' means 'safe' for my two greatest treasures." Chrollo took his turn at washing his hands before asking, "Now, what shall you have me do, dearest?"

   Deciding against speaking aloud the first thing that came to your mind and causing your husband to blush in front of a family member, you set him to work on peeling and cutting potatoes.

   You had removed the meat from the stock pot and added some red whine to deglaze the bottom of the pot when Feitan came in mumbling.

   "Did you lose the coin toss, Feitan?" Shal asked while he was chopping the carrots.

   "Yes," he sighed, then added bitterly" and I would much rather help here than watch another sports game."

   Chrollo smirked and Shalnark chuckled while you bit back a laugh. The three of you knew that Feitan would have greatly prefered watch some documentaries on famous criminals; yet somehow Phinks normally won the coin toss on what they would watch when it came to what those two would watch.

   "Well, Fei, in that case you can get the dinner roll dough out of the fridge, space them out in a greased baking then cover them with a towel so they can start rising."

   You felt the look Feitan shot at you more so than saw it. He had obviously been kidding about wanting to help out on the kitchen. Or, at the very least, he was putting on a show pretending that he actually didn't want to help out when in truth he did.

   When you didn't look back over your shoulder at him after a bit he sighed and went to go do as you had asked. You had made sure to give Feitan an easy enough task where he didn't have to ask someone to help get something down or where he would have to get a chair. You knew he could sometimes be a sensitive and prideful when it came to matters of his height.

   "So tell me, love, how did the mis-" your question to your husband was suddenly interrupted by the terrified screams of your son coming from his bedroom.

   "MONSTER!! MOMMY THERE'S A MONSTER!!!"

   Your heart nearly stopped as you dropped what you were doing and started to turn to run out of the kitchen along with Chrollo and the other two.

   Chrollo was the first to the door but came to an abrupt stop as s/n came around the corner and ran into his father. Your husband grabbed hold of him to keep him from falling backwards then maneuvered your son away from the door towards you so Feitan and Shalnark could pass to go investigate s/n's room.

   Keeping himself between the doorway and you and your son, Chrollo knelt down beside s/n who was now clinging to you and shaking with tears forming in his eyes. He placed a gentle hand on his son's upper back while you stroked his head.

   "Tell me what happened, son," he calmly ordered.

   "I was r-reading my book and a big monster c-came out of the corner of m-my room." s/n stammered.

   "What kind of monster, sweetie?" you asked.

   "We couldn't find anything, boss," Shalnark reported as he and Feitan returned.

   "It looked like a b-big spider!" s/n added.

   Chrollo's eyebrows started to creep up his forehead, "Spider?"

   Your son nodded.

   "PHINKS!" you nearly roared. Phinks had been known to play pranks on s/n in the past. Pranks that didn't go as he had planned and usually scared the poor kid senseless. The Troupe member claimed he was just trying to help s/n get over his fears, you usually ended up beating the crap out of him regardless.

   "It wasn't me!" came Phinks's response as he quickly joined Shalnark and Feitan. "I swear!"

   He shied away and stood behind the other two when you locked a deadly glare onto him.

   "No, mommy, it wasn't Uncle Phinks," s/n sniffled, "I was reading in my book and it got to a part with monster spiders then a huge spider appeared in my room!"

   There was a silent pause before nearly all the adults let out a collective sigh and their guards dropped.

   "See, I told you it wasn't me," Phinks muttered as he went back to watch the game.

   "Another false alarm," Feitan sighed while walking back into the kitchen.    "That's some imagination," Shalnark stated and gave s/n a pat head, "you must have thought the spider was one of those creature right out of your book, huh?"

   S/n nodded his head. His face was starting to turn red as he began to realize he had most likely been afraid of nothing once again.

   "But," he whispered sadly, "there really was a big spider in my room. And, I'm afraid it's going to hurt Sir Brollo."

   "Sir Brollo will be fine, love," you assured gently. "Give me a minute and daddy and I will come help look for the spider, okay?"

   s/n nodded and released his grip from you to stand a little closer to his father who rested a hand atop his sons head in means of comfort.

   You went to the stove, reduced it to medium low heat, added in the beef stock and spices then turned to Feitan and Shalnark.

   "Could you two please finish cutting up the vegetables and add them to the pot? Once that's done add in the meat last, give it a good stir then put the lid on. It should be good on it's own after that."

   "Can do, boss lady," Shalnark beamed.

   You thank them both and join your son and husband and the three of you head towards s/n's room with Chrollo in the lead. Upon entering the room everything seemed normal. S/n held onto you at the doorway and Chrollo walked a few steps further in while looking around carefully.  As he rounded the end of s/n's bed, looking down at a part of the floor you and s/n couldn't see, Chrollo actually jumped a little and a look of surprise appeared on his face.

   "Well, I was not expecting that." He blinked a couple times then began to look around the room for something.

   "What is it?" you asked. Chrollo smiled a little as he took a large clear plastic container and dumped out the contents to one side. He then went back over to the part of the floor you could not see, turned the container sideways and slowly knelt down.

   "An understandably good reason for our son to be scared," he replied softly, "at least at first."

   All you could see your husband do was make some slow, careful arm movements. He was speaking softly, to softly for you to here. You wanted to move forward to see what he was messing with but your son didn't want you to leave nor did he want to go farther into the room.

   You didn't have to wait long though, as Chrollo began to stand you could now see what he had corralled into the plastic container. It was indeed a spider, but not just any spider, this sider was enormous. With it's legs fanned out it was easily larger than your husbands face.

   "It's a snowy tarantula," Chrollo explained as he slowly walked over to the two of you, "it's sort of an ironic name considering it usually lives in hot, arid climates like the desserts around Meteor City."

   Once he was within a couple meters of you and s/n he knelt down and gently set the container on the floor. The creature inside barely moved as it seemed to turn and look up at Chrollo.

   "It's called a 'snowy' tarantula due to the white hairs all over it's body. The hairs actually shimmer and reflect the light just like fresh fallen snow. An evolutionary trait that developed to help reflect the dessert heat away from it's body and keep it cooler. A magnificent specimen to behold when the light hits it just right. Come see, s/n. She's actually quite docile."

   S/n looked up at you and you gave him a warm smile and a nod. He slowly let go of you and took one slow, cautious step after another towards his father and the spider that had frightened him so. You carefully followed behind your son wanting to get a look at the tarantula as well.

   As the two of you came closer, the tarantula daintily turned and looked up at you. You gasped slightly at the beautiful deep blue eyes that now stared up at you.

   "Now watch," your husband instructed and he began to carefully rotate the container in a circular side to side motion causing the light to dance across the hairs of the tarantula.

   "Whhoooaaaa." Your son's eyes grew wide in awe as a rainbow of prismed light moved over the hairs of the tarantula, giving her the effect of a living gem. "She's so pretty. I've never seen anything like it, daddy."

   Chrollo stopped the rotation of the container and carefully set it on the floor. He then reached over, placed his hand on the back of his son's head and gently pulled s/n's head towards his own as he too began to lean forward. The two touched foreheads over the tarantula and looked into each others eyes.

   "There is no shame in having fear, s/n, but do not let that fear keep you from learning and understanding the unknown. What once was scary and ugly could turn out to be something wonderful and beautiful once you find the courage to face it. Do you understand?"

   Your son smiled and nodded slightly, "Yes, daddy, I understand. I'll try harder to be brave, just like you, mommy, and the rest of the family."

   Your husband returned the smiled and closed his eyes, "Very good, my son."

   S/n closed his eyes as well and the two shared an unspoken bonding moment over the snowy tarantula who just looked up at them. You smiled down at the two you held most dear and felt your heart swell with love and emotion.  

   Your son was the first to break the silence.

   "Do you think we could keep her?" he asked as he gently pulled away from his father. "She could be our mascot!"

   "Ah-ha, I don't think so, sweetie," you said firmly. "I'm sure she would be a lot happier on the surface where she has room to find food and make a home."    "Awwww," s/o whined in disappointment, "when is she going back then?"

   "Probably the sooner the better." Chrollo added, backing you up before s/n had a chance to ask him as well.

   "Can I show her to the others before she goes back outside?"

   Chrollo chuckled, "I don't see why not. Just be sure to carry her gently and don't shake her. You don't want to hurt her before we let her back outside."

   "Okay!" s/n said with excitement. He carefully picked up the plastic container and walked with precise hurried steps out of the room, eager to show his uncles that he hadn't been afraid of just nothing.

   As soon as s/n was out of ear shot you turned to your husband who was now standing beside you.

   "I'm not going to lie, had that thing snuck up on me while I was reading I probably would have screamed, too," you admitted with light laughter sounding in your words. Chrollo smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist bringing the two of you close.

   "How did something like that even get in here? The airducts, maybe?"

   "It's possible," Chrollo agreed, "I'll ask Shalnark to run a check on the ventilation system just in case."

   You stood on your tip toes and kissed his nose, "I'd appreciate that. Also, you might want to ask Shal and Fei how the hell they missed such a big spider when they came in here to check for intruders."  

   "When s/n jumped up and ran out of here screaming it probably startled her and she hid among all the stuffed toys," your husband made a gesture with his head to your son's mass collection. You looked down and realized that, even though the spider had been huge, she could have easily hid between some of the bigger plushies blocking her from view.

   "Good point," you chuckled, "Okay, one more question, 'Who's taking the spider top side?'"

   "Once s/n is done showing the others I'll take them all top side to let her go," your husband volunteered, "we won't go far just to release her."

   "He's getting better at recovering from scares like this," you observed. "But still... I worry about him..."

   "Of course you worry about him," Chrollo said softly, bringing his head down to now touch his marked forehead to yours, "you're his mother. I suspect you will worry for him one way or another for the rest of your life."

   "And what about you? Don't you worry about our son?" you asked in the same softness Chrollo was expressing.

   "Of course I do, y/n, he's my son. But, seeing how the two of us are, and what we survived to get here, I feel s/n is going to -"    "AAAHHHH!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?" Phinks screamed, "WAS THAT IN YOUR ROOM!?!?! NO!! I DO NOT WANT A CLOSER LOOK!"

   Chrollo threw back his head and let out a genuine laugh. A laugh that made you smile and laugh along with him.

   "Hey! I can hear you two! Shut the hell up!" Phinks yelled, his voice cracking in embarrassment.

   His words made the two of you laugh even harder for several minutes.

   By the time you two had settled down and caught your breath there were tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. Chrollo looked down at you with a smile still on his face and gave you a long, warm, soft kiss right on the lips. It gave the moment an almost surreal feel to it.

   He was the first to break away from the kiss. Your husband chuckled as he swept some hair behind you ear with his finger tips.    "As I was saying, I think our son is going to be just fine."

#hxh imagines #hunterxhunter imagine #hxh hc #hunterxhunter headcanon #hxh headcanon #chrollo #chrollo imagine #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo fanfiction #fanfiction #hxh fanction #hunterxhunterfancition #chrollo as a dad #husband chrollo #soft chrollo #phinks #shalnark #feitan #spider troupe #phantom troupe #female reader #reader insert #chrollo x reader #short story #self insert #anime

[ultimatetornshipper]

Daminette December Day 6

@daminette-december2019-2020

Oh what’s this? Two chapters in a row from Marinette’s pov? Sorry just couldn’t help myself, like I just had to man

Hope yall enjoy it~

Princes and Pedestals

Chapter 6 – Comfort

Previous

Next

Marinette didn’t sleep that night.

Sure, negotiations had gone wonderfully and she, Cass and Steph had spent the afternoon discussing everything from fighting stances to Stephanie’s potential wedding dress. They hung out with Ivy again and went to the beach to pick up shells.

Most of the day's activities were Stephanie’s ideas but Cass and Marinette also enjoyed them. Now and then Jason and Dick would join them or Cass would go to do something or another, but Steph was practically attached to Marinette’s hip. She smiled, Alya and Chloe would be jealous.

She had fun, but when night fell and everyone had retired to their bedrooms, there was nothing to distract her from the memories.

His smile and the sparkle in his eyes when he was up to good mocked her whenever she closed her eyes. Reminding her that she’d never see them again.

When the birds started singing she’d given up trying to sleep. Marinette stood and for the last time she put on one of her black dresses. She put her hair in a single braid down her back and put on a practical pair of boots with it.

She stared at the silver necklace he gave her a month after they met. She hadn’t worn it since her week in isolation after he died. She'd kept it with her whenever she travelled but she’d never had the strength to wear it again.

She picked it up. On the silver chain hung an oval shaped emerald.

To remind you of me when I’m not with you, Bugaboo.

With shaking hands she tied it around her neck. It felt right to wear it this one last time.

She took a deep breath, she needed to be alone today, being around other people wasn’t something she had the energy for.

She eyed Tikki, still asleep on one of the many pillows on the bed. She loved her kwami dearly, but... she wasn’t in the mood for company.

She stood and walked over to where her writing supplies lie on the table. She quickly wrote a note for Tikki asking her to tell anyone who came looking for her that she was safe and that she’d be back by nightfall.

Satisfied, she grabbed her coat and her knife in its scabbard and made her way downstairs to the kitchen. She didn’t want to eat, but she needed the energy if she was going to be out all day.

When she got there the staff were busy preparing the meals of the day, the smells made her stomach rumble.

She didn’t really know who to approach or what to do but before she could worry about it too much a middle aged man with red hair approached her, he wore an apron and gave her a slight smile, “You the Guardian?”

“Yes, that would be me,” she answered, before she could figure out how to ask for a basket of food or something similar he chuckled lightly.

“Your Majesty, Alfred said you might show up, he asked me to give you this and to tell you Bluebell is saddled up for you in the stables. He also said that George left a saddle bag in her stable for you,” he turned around and picked up a basket and a thick looking basket, handing them to her.

She stared at the objects in surprise, “How did he...?” she started, not even knowing how to phrase the question.

He seemed to know what she meant, though, and just shrugged, “He just does that sometimes. We’ve learned not to question it,” amusement shinning in his eyes, he continued, “But if you’ll excuse me, I really need to get back to work,”

“Please, don’t let me stop you and uh... thank you,” she said lifting the basket slightly.

She turned out of the kitchen and a small wave of homesickness surprised her. Nathaniel also always knew what you needed before you did, helpfully supplying it before you could even phrase the question.

It was an ability all of Duusu's holders had, knowing how to take care of people and enjoying the act of doing so.

She made her way to the stables as the first rays of dawn started lighting the sky. Small rocks and sticks crunched between her boots and the cobblestone.

The fresh, chilly morning air motivated her to don her coat. When she got to the barn she saw a young dapple grey horse saddled up in her stable. The name on the door said ‘Bluebell’.

“Hey girl,” Marinette held her hand out and petted her. She opened the door and attached the saddle bag to the saddle, putting the blanket in it. She tied the medium sized basket to Bluebell’s back the way she’d been taught since it distributed the weight best.

She lead her out and once they were outside she climbed onto her back. She lightly kicked Bluebell’s sides and made her way to the forest.

She followed the well trodden path through it for an hour, while the sun slowly rose over their heads. Eventually, they reached a beautiful meadow. The path continued on, but Marinette was hungry and wanted to stop and eat.

A river ran through the clearing. The woods stretched out the other side of it. In the distance she could see the range of mountains they’d passed on their journey to Gotham.

She took out the blanket and spread it out. Then she removed and opened the basket. Inside she found all her favorite foods, as well as a bundle that contained apples, carrots and sugar cubes for Bluebell.

She allowed the horse to roam free, but she never wandered far. Marinette ate a few grapes, a small bun of bread and a few bites of cheese.

She gave Bluebell an apple and a sugar cube. The rest she rewrapped in the cloths she got them in. She removed the charcoal and parchment in the basket that Alfred had added for her to sketch with. It was a nice surprise; she wouldn’t have thought of including it.

She wasn’t sure when she started talking to Bluebell but eventually she found herself telling the horse everything, from the moment she met him to her initial thoughts. She told her about things she hadn’t thought of in ages.

She told her about how his favorite color was blue and his favorite season winter. She told her about how hard he'd tried to hide it when he started realizing he was getting sick.

She told her about how weak his grip had gotten towards the end and how it taken every piece of her self control not to take his ring and wish it all away.

She wasn’t sure when she started crying but before long her cheeks were wet and she was sobbing as she spoke of the memories and the pain and just how tired she was.

And when she was done she realized that it was already afternoon. She fed Bluebell some more, even though she’d grazed for most of the day, then she packed everything onto Bluebell.

As she rode back she felt as though a massive weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Today she’d found something in Bluebell’s presence that she hadn’t experienced for the longest time.

Bluebell didn’t have expectations of her, she was a horse, she didn’t put her on a pedestal like everyone else, to her she was just another human.

Maybe some people would find it funny that she’d found comfort in a horse, but Marinette couldn’t bring herself to care.

It was dark when she got back, she unsaddled Bluebell and brushed her.

She dropped the basket and blanket off at the kitchen and asked the staff to pass on her thanks to Alfred.

She made her way back to her room, passing the sitting room, just as Dick was exiting it. His eyes widened when he saw her.

He looked incredibly relieved, “Guys, I found her!” he called out, then made his way over to her, worry still evident on his face.

“Marinette are you alright? We were so worried,” he took her hand and seemed to be checking her over for injuries.

She frowned, had Tikki not told them that she was going out?

Steph suddenly appeared next to her, along with Jason, Cass and Damian.

Steph pushed Dick away from her, “She’s fine, Dick, you’re invading her space. I told you that Tikki said she’d be out,”

Stephanie’s hand rested on her shoulder. But she didn’t miss the way the girl’s gaze had caught on Marinette’s red rimmed eyes, along with the black rings under them, that clearly indicated that she hadn’t slept.

All the others still seemed intent on making sure she was fine for themselves, some less discreetly than others.

Jason took her cloak off before she even realized it and had folded it, asking a passing maid to wash it and fix the tears she hadn’t noticed.

Dick kept asking questions, but she zoned him out almost immediately.

Cass steered her towards a couch in the living room, and held her hand tightly, while studying her.

Damian was frowning at her muddied boots and a tear or two in her dress. It was an old dress, she was sure none of the tears were new, but she also had a feeling that wouldn’t ease his worry.

Stephanie started arguing with Dick, telling him to leave her alone and that she was clearly fine, though it seemed like she didn’t completely believe the words herself. She wasn’t the only one though, everyone looked worried.

Marinette was surprised, sure her court cared for her. But they never worried or asked questions about where she’d been, they trusted that if she looked fine she was.

So this, this was new.

She found that she didn’t mind too much. Well, she didn’t mind it in general. Right now, however, she was tired and emotionally drained and would rather explain everything later.

“Do you want me to take you back to your room?” Damian whispered from behind her, most of the others were too caught up in their own conversations to notice.

She turned around and met his gaze. Accept this time, she didn’t flinch. He seemed surprised too, maybe talking to Bluebell had done her more good than she’d realized.

She gave him a tired smile and nodded. He studied her for a moment more before looking up and glaring at his siblings.

“That is enough,” he said evenly, “She is clearly tired. If she so wishes, she will tell us what happened tomorrow. Now, I will be escorting her to her room so that she can get some rest,”

Most of his siblings stared at him in shock, while Cass smiled approvingly. Marinette stood and took Damian’s offered arm. He escorted her out of the room.

When they got to the hallway Plagg flew out and gave her a sad smile, “Hi, pigtails,”

She softly smiled back as they walked, “Hey, Plagg,”

He landed on her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “You should have seen him freaking out when you were missing. A true black cat, overthinking everything when it comes to their bug. He'll do well,”

He then curled into her neck and purred, she hadn’t missed the sad tone in his voice. Plagg was still grieving, it would take time before he’d truly bond with Damian.

She looked at the boy walking next to her, he seemed to be lost in thought, but he glanced at her every now and then, as though he was checking to make sure she was still there.

She spotted the ring on his finger, reminded of what Plagg said, she decided to break the silence.

“I'm sorry if I scared you guys, I figured Tikki and the note would be enough assurance,” she said softly, turning her head to look at him.

He glanced back at her, and she saw his gaze catching on her red rimmed eyes, “She showed us the note, but those have been faked in the past to hurt us before and we don’t know what your handwriting looks like, a lot of people have been known to target us and those we’re involved with, so we’re a bit paranoid,”

Suddenly she understood their reaction, they thought she might’ve been captured and her note was planted to buy the kidnappers time.

“I didn’t realize that. Though, in future, you should know that you would’ve been able to tell if something was wrong through the miraculous, thanks to Plagg and Tikki's connection,” she said, smiling at him, “Thank you, though, I’m not used to people worrying about me,”

He looked at her in surprise, but his voice was even when he spoke, “How so?”

She shrugged and looked forward again, “People tend to overestimate me,”

What an understatement. Everyone seemed to think she was practically invulnerable. Well, except for Damian and his siblings apparently.

She felt him tense slightly, he seemed to be pretty protective of her already. He had resonated quicker with Plagg than she anticipated.

They walked the rest of the way to her room in a comfortable silence.

When they finally got there he opened her door, but before she could go in he took her hand. She turned her attention to him and he studied her for a moment, clearly hesitant.

“Goodnight, Marinette,” he said softly, staring into her eyes, gaze searching.

She stared back at him and gave him a small smile, “Goodnight Damian,”

That night she slept better than she had in years.

Taglist:

@animegirlweeb @loysydark @toodaloo-kangaroo @forgottenfriends @wolf-for-life @heyitsbugette @f-rget-lt

#maribat #daminette #daminette december #damian wayne #batman #marinette dupain cheng #guardian marinette #protective batsiblings #this chapter did not go how I planned it but like... i don't really mind it turned out pretty well #they all so worried about her #bluebell in the stable @ the other horses : yo man that girl got problems I'm telling u yall think ur humans have issues like damn #lmao #utp writes #marinette working through trauma by talking about it #yknow like a healthy person #unlike certain people #pointed look at batfam #batfam: and we were like we know but hey #my poor plagg #dami doesn't know what to do so he just listens to plagg and cass's advice #something to look forward to next chapter #i think #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng #dc #ml x dc #dc x ml #everyone is hella worried and you can't blane em Mari has issues and they know it #*coughs* takes one to know one*coughs* #batfam: *glares at me* #thanks for reading

[rookie-ramsey]

First Pet Shenanigans (Zaid x Ines)

Description: Gabriella gets a pet rabbit. Zaid is slightly terrified of it.

Word Count: 1,593

Rating: PG

Preview: When he turned around, the rabbit stood in the doorway. It held perfectly still aside from the twitching of its nose. Then, without warning, Oscar took a single, almost intimidating hop towards him. At least mildly horrified, Zaid subconsciously took a step back.

Not long after her fifth birthday, Gabriella started asking her parents for a pet.

They had Ines’s cat, but the lazy cat would much rather sleep than play with the toys Gabriella tried to entertain her with.

At first, they hesitated. They both worked full time, and Gabriella was still young. But eventually Gabriella and Ines’s shared enthusiasm for all things warm and fuzzy won, and Zaid gave in.

They ruled out a puppy for now, since a puppy would require more training. Of all the other animals on the planet, surely Gabriella could think of something fluffy that didn’t require someone to be home every day for the first few months.

“You can have a pet if it’s something that won’t be as hard to take care of,” Zaid granted, expecting her to suggest something simple, like a cat of her own.

Gabriella’s response was immediate. “A duck.”

“Well… a duck might not be happy living inside all the time. And they like to live with other ducks, so it might get lonely,” Ines explained.

“Oh.” Gabriella furrowed her brow in thought. “A mini horse. Daddy can build it a barn.”

Zaid rolled his eyes. “Yes. I’ll do that with my extensive knowledge of barn construction. I’ll get right on that.”

Gabriella rolled her eyes in a perfect imitation of him. “I was joking. Can I have a rabbit?’

At that suggestion, Ines looked thoughtful. “Hmm.. I think a rabbit would be okay.”

“Okay!” Delighted, Gabriella flung her arms around them and squeezed tight before she shoved a  somewhat concerningly sticky iPad into Zaid’s hands. “Let’s find a rabbit store. We’ll go get my rabbit tomorrow.”

Zaid made a face and set aside the sticky device. “We still need to talk about it. We’ll let you know later. We both have to work tomorrow.”

Gabriella shrugged, unfazed. “Call Dr. Naveen and tell him it’s a really, really big emergency. Say it’s the biggest emergency ever and you can’t go to work!”

“Somehow I don’t think that would be the best choice.”

Huffing, Gabriella took her iPad and climbed onto the couch. “Can I still look at pictures of rabbits?”

“You can do that.” Ines helped her get started and watched as the five-year-old scrolled through Google images of rabbits. “They’re so fluffy…”

It was in that moment Zaid knew they’d have a rabbit by the end of the week.

XXXXX

The day Ines took Gabriella to pick out her rabbit, Zaid fully expected them to come home with a cage containing a perfectly normal, small rabbit.

His first mistake was daring to make such a bold assumption.

Instead, Gabriella walked into the house with a leash clutched tightly in her hand. At the end of the leash was a harness, and in the harness was the biggest fucking rabbit Zaid had ever laid eyes on.

“What the… how… why is that rabbit the size of a shopping mall Easter bunny?”

“He’s a Flemish giant,” Ines explained. “We started out looking at the smaller ones, but then Gabriella saw him and fell in love with him.”

Recovering from his shock, Zaid stared at the oversized rabbit. “I thought we said her pet can’t be bigger than her.”

“I’m bigger than him!” Gabriella helped her rabbit stand on his hind legs. His head came to her chest, but his big ears just barely passed the top of her head. She peered between his ears and grinned. “I named him Oscar!”

“Like Oscar the Grouch?”

“Yeah!”

“Why do I feel alarmed?”

“He’s not actually grouchy at all. He was the most affectionate rabbit they had. The employees at the rescue center even said that these rabbits usually have a milder temperament than smaller breeds,” Ines informed him, reaching down to rub the rabbit’s big head.

“He’s just… massive. Terrifyingly so.”

“He weighs nineteen pounds.”

“He wants to explore.” Gabriella unhooked his leash. Oscar paused for a moment before he took off, bounding down the hallway. Gabriella chased after him.

“Does he really have to be walked like a dog?”

Ines shook her head. “No. He’s already litter box trained. We stopped at PetSmart and bought everything he needs.”

“What does a rabbit that size eat?”

“Regular rabbit food. Pellets, cabbage, carrots. Stuff like that. Just a lot more of it.”

Oscar hopped back into the living room. He stopped when he almost ran into the cat and froze in his tracks. Mittens hissed at him. Offended, Oscar cowered back from the cat that was half his size.

“We got him a habitat to stay in while we’re not home. You and Baz can put it together.”

Gabriella knelt next to Oscar and patted his furry head. He pressed his nose into her palm and sniffed. “I think he wants food.”

“We’ll bring his stuff inside so you can feed him. Make sure he doesn’t get into anything,” Ines instructed. She and Zaid brought in their purchases from the pet store.

Oscar watched in what looked like fascination as they opened the giant bag of rabbit pellets. Gabriella filled his bowl with it and sat back to watch as he nibbled hungrily on the food.

After a few minutes, Oscar left the food bowl to finish investigating the house. Gabriella followed him to keep him out of trouble.

They were getting dinner started when Zaid heard light footsteps entering the kitchen.

When he turned around, the rabbit stood in the doorway. It held perfectly still aside from the twitching of its nose. Then, without warning, Oscar took a single, almost intimidating hop towards him. At least mildly horrified, Zaid subconsciously took a step back.

“He’s not gonna hurt you!” To prove her point, Gabriella flopped onto the floor. Oscar climbed on top of her, practically burying her beneath his fluff. “See? You can’t be scared of your own grand bunny!”

“My what now?”

“He’s my rabbit, so that means he’s like my kid and you and Mommy are his grandparents,” Gabriella explained, her expression serious. “Rabbits are just like fuzzy babies.”

“Those two things aren’t exactly comparable.”

Gabriella shook her head. “Well, I said they are, so… there. I’m not gonna argue about it.”

Ines tried to stifle a laugh. “Zaid, I think you just lost the argument. Oscar’s officially our grandchild.”

Oscar sniffed Gabriella, twitching his nose several times before laying his big head on her shoulder. He didn’t budge until a minute later when the door opened and Baz walked in.

“Oh no! My niece turned into a rabbit!”

Gabriella rolled out from under Oscar. “Nuh uh!”

Baz let out a sigh and pretended to wipe sweat from his forehead. “Whew. I was worried. Who’s this big guy?”

“Oscar! Daddy’s scared of him!”

Baz grinned. “Oh, he is? Tell me all about it.”

“Excuse me?” Zaid frowned.

“He gets scared every time Oscar looks at him,” Gabriella explained, grinning mischievously. “But I tried telling him Oscar’s his grand bunny and he’s not supposed to be afraid of him.”

“Of course not. Well, that and the fact that he’s just a harmless ball of fluff that no grown adult should be afraid of.” Amused, Baz knelt down and patted Oscar. “If he’s your mom and dad’s grandchild, does that make him my grand-nephew?’

“Yep!” Gabriella laughed and found Oscar’s leash. “Can we take Oscar outside to play?”

Ined nodded. “Just make sure you keep him on his leash.”

“Okay.” Grabbing Baz’s hand, Gabriella steered him toward the door so they could take Oscar outside. “Tell me more stuff Daddy’s scared of.”

By night time, Oscar seemed to have made himself at home. He occupied the end of the couch, content and comfortable while Zaid and Ines watched a movie and Gabriella colored at the coffee table.

Without warning, Oscar crawled across the cushions and sprawled across Zaid’s lap. He sharply rammed his head into Zaid’s hand.

Gabriella giggled. “He wants you to pet him.”

Tentatively, Zaid patted the rabbit’s head. Oscar sat upright, looking him directly in the eye. “I can’t tell if he’s thanking me or plotting my death.”

Gabriella sighed and rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t kill people. He’s not that smart.”

Ines snapped a picture, much to Zaid’s chagrin. “He looks so comfortable.”

“Well, good for him, I guess.”

“You look adorable.” Grinning, Ines leaned over and kissed him. “Okay, Gab, time for bed. Go pick out a book and we’ll be in there soon to read to you.”

Gabriella groaned and tried not to yawn. She held her eyes open and sat up straighter. “I’m not sleepy. See?”

“I see. I also saw you falling asleep a minute ago. C’mon.”

Sighing in defeat, Gabriella patted Oscar. “Come on, Oscar. You’re gonna sleep in my bed.”

At her beckoning, Oscar hopped off of Zaid’s lap and trailed after her. Zaid and Ines soon followed to read to Gabriella. Oscar was stretched comfortably across the foot of her bed and watched as Gabriella handed her parents a book.

“Oscar wants to hear about Peter Rabbit,” she insisted, only to fall asleep by the third page of the story. Wide awake, Oscar hopped off the bed and followed Zaid and Ines to the living room.

The second Zaid sat down, Oscar plopped into his lap.

“I think he likes you.”

Zaid sighed when Oscar looked up at him, staring at him with wide eyes and refusing to budge. “I’m still getting mixed signals.”

“He probably just knows you’re a softie.”

“How did I give him that impression?”

Ines shrugged, grinning. “Animals notice stuff like that.”

Tags. part 1

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#open heart #zaid x ines #zaid mirani x ines delarosa #zaid mirani #ines delarosa