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If Phileas is your father figure, scroll now💔

A suiting discovery (request)

(Gn!reader x bottom!Phileas Fogg)

Quick side note, apologies for this being so late chat, I’ve been so unmotivated 😭😭

With a heavy sigh, you sank into bed.

Work had absolutely drained you that day and so did that party you’d been invited to by Abigail. Unfortunately, you’d had to spend a few hours surrounded by rich people, a few prestigious and arrogant, but luckily most of them were pretty nice. However, you’d felt extremely exhausted most of the time.

Although, Phileas had looked absolutely delicious in his dress suit. Well, he normally looked delicious but this evening he just appeared somewhat more edible. You were surprised he hadn’t noticed your hot gaze boring into him every few minutes. Normally, you didn’t tend to look at many things with such…desire, but Phileas? You really couldn’t help it. His hair was neatly brushed back except for one little strand which draped over his right cheekbone, his moustache was well trimmed, he had a charming smile on his face as he spoke and his canines were looking abnormally sharp. Everything just made you want to scoop him up and have him then and there.

Despite your relationship, you hadn’t exactly had any intimacy with Phileas besides the occasional hand holding session and kisses on the cheek or lips (mostly hidden away from others). After all, you’d met Phileas a few months before his journey across the globe and had only admitted your feelings for him within the last few weeks of being there — your journey only having ended a month or two ago. Even after the journey, Phileas still travelled with Abigail and Passepartout. You had to admit, you were starting to become slightly desperate. Even the sight of him or the sound of his voice could make you go feral.

Watching you fall into bed, Phileas’s lips cracked into a gentle smile. He’d always enjoyed seeing you exhausted, of course not to the point where you became ill, but just tired enough to cuddle up to him and spend some time just listening to him talk. The gentleman felt you wrap your arms around him and he embraced the sensation of your hot breath against his skin as you noses his throat. “Well, hello.” He smiled, his arms wrapping around you in response.

You inhaled, about to heave another huge sigh, but took a moment to pause. Hm, a new cologne. You hadn’t known Phileas to wear cologne very much but this one certainly suited him. The scent was warm, rather sweet yet it had elements of what smelled like black pepper and rose oil. Where on earth did he buy the ingredients for this? He’d most definitely be wearing this more often. “You found a new perfume.” You stated, lips moving against his skin as you kept your nose glued to the smell. It felt as if you were fighting back the urge to physically bite into his skin in an attempt to eat him.

“I, erm, yes. Indeed. I see that you enjoy it, yes?” He replied, his cheeks and body growing slightly warmer at such a close proximity coming from you.

“Mm.” You hummed, simply lying there for a moment and just curling into him. God, even just the thought of his presence was enough to shoot a stab of hunger through you. Luckily, you received an element of nourishment from gazing upon him but it wasn’t nearly enough. Those big, loving, brown eyes were far too honey sweet to be left alone. “Y’know, I strongly believe you should wear that suit again. Looks…nice on you.” You mumbled, a hand trailing beneath Phileas’s night shirt and up his back.

“Really?” He responded, becoming ever so slightly fidgety. However, he made no attempt to move away, rather sinking in closer instead. “Well, I shall take your request into..” he began, feeling your hand shift to twirl and slightly tug at his hair, the action causing his eyelids to flutter for a moment and his throat to bob as he swallowed thickly. “Into consideration..”

“Only into consideration? I thought I heard you say you rather liked that suit. Surely, if you liked it so much, you wouldn’t have to put it into consideration?” You remarked, your gaze finally reaching Phileas’s. The gentleman was taken slightly aback by the heat of your gaze, he’d never seen you look at him like that. You looked as if you were on the verge of eating him alive, your pupils blown wide as you analysed the features of his faces. Your glare certainly seemed to have an effect due to an unfamiliar, swarming heat rising within Phileas’s abdomen (and your gradual realisation that there was something else pressing against you).

“Well, I erm, uhm-“ stammered the gentleman, his cheeks hot and rosy. He looked as though his life was flashing before his eyes and yet, he remained right where he was once he felt you move to completely rest on top of him. By the looks of it, he was actually rather enjoying this.

His hands hovered over your legs timidly as though he wanted to grab onto them. He’d never touched your legs before. Now that he thought about it, he’d been so used to the taboo around couples showing affection since the beginning of 1873, that he’d only ever held you whilst drifting off to sleep and had only managed to hold your hand whilst strangers won’t looking. Never had he been able to do anything like this and, despite his lack of experience, he was relishing this situation.

“Well,” you smirked, gazing down at his pretty face from on high, “it appears that you like being put in positions like this.” You observed, cocking your head to the side.

“W-what? I couldn’t possibly begin to think how you would begin to assume tha-“ began Phileas, eyes going wide for a moment as he felt you adjust your thighs to fit snugly across his hips, trapping him in place. “T-that.”

You snickered. That was certainly a turn of events, a cute one to be fair. “I think I quite like this new demeanour of yours, it suits you.” You smirked, almost smugly. “I don’t think I’ve seen your face so red…nor something else so interested in the situation.”

Phileas’s cheeks changed from a simple, rosy tint to full on brick red. Oh, why did he have to react this way? And why did he so desperately wish you’d take him already? Or perhaps just shift around in his lap just a little..? Good God, he sounded absolutely wanton! Maybe that wasn’t exactly awful though, was it? It wasn’t like anyone was watching and he was with you, after all. He wanted to touch you, be able to feel your presence and enjoy an evening alone with you. Well, he knew you could tell that. No, not even tell, feel! “Well, you do, erm, have your ways. A chap is allowed to express his interests..even if physically.” Replied Phileas, his eyes darting over your face sheepishly — the heat of your gaze becoming almost overwhelming.

Phileas felt you lean down, capturing his lips in a gentle yet hungry kiss — his moustache tickling your top lip. His timid hands finally allowed themselves to rest on top of your thighs, his fingers slightly squeezing your skin once your lips made their way down to his throat — a tiny whimper emitting from the man’s throat when you teasingly nipped the skin there.

By the time you’d undone his shirt, taking the special chance to kiss the skin of Phileas’s chest and cheekily brush your thumb over his nipple teasingly, he had become surprisingly desperate — his hips weakly rolling against you. You were surprised that he was the type to plead, albeit not verbally, yet. So far, he’d been reasonably composed but it appeared the gentleman could only extend his stoicism so far.

“Alright, alright.” You smiled, taking the moment to give a small chuckle. Despite your thirst for him, you couldn’t help but appreciate the slight sweetness of the man beneath you. You quickly undid the first few buttons of your night shirt but eventually just tugged it over your head, the sight of your chest catching Phileas’s eye. He’d never seen your chest before. Well, he’d hardly seen much of anything he was currently seeing, but the realisation left him being only able to stare in admiration at the expanses of your skin.

It took a moment for Phileas to realise that one of your hands had cupped his cheek to catch his attention, your expression seemingly amused as you watched his chocolatey eyes simply stare at your chest and stomach. His gaze met yours, his body now more aware of the desperation within him. His face morphed into an expression of pleading once again, a more sincere: “could you please just help me out? I’m dying here and I’ve got no idea what I’m doing,” kind of look. He recognised the understanding and hint of mischievousness in your gaze just as he felt your fingers undo the buttons of his night trousers. So that was what you were going to do.

A low moan left Phileas’s throat once he felt your hand gently grasp the base of his cock, the first few pumps of your hand causing bone rattling shivers to rush down his spine. His fingers gently dug into the skin of your thighs, the man almost using your legs like a lifeline, once you brushed your thumb over his tip teasingly. Phileas whined softly and shivered as your hand moved, his head lolling back against a few pillows. He could sense you watching his reactions intently, very clearly feeling heaps of pleasure in seeing your lover drown in his own. He dreaded what sort of expressions he may have been pulling but from the overall feeling of your eyes on him, he guessed you enjoyed them.

“Y/n, please..” Murmured Phileas, taking the moment to look you in the eyes — fighting the urge to let his flutter shut — whilst his hands squeezed your hips, his fingers hooking into the hem of your night trousers. He didn’t want you to have to just sit there, as much as your hand felt like a god sent.

“Oh, sweet boy.” You cooed, planting a kiss on the gentleman’s forehead as you rubbed his tip with your thumb, the action causing Phileas’s attempt to string words together fail miserably. Even when he was allowing himself to be in a situation like this, he still cared about what you wanted. You couldn’t help but love him even more for it and you also couldn’t help but treat him more for it. “You have no idea how much I’ve been dying to get you out of those bloody clothes.” You murmured, taking the moment to kiss all over the man’s face, your lips moving over his cheeks, chin, temples, forehead and eyelids.

If he wasn’t half reeling, Phileas would’ve simply melted into you. He’d always loved it when you showed affection. Yes, he wasn’t exactly the best at showing it himself (yet) but receiving it from you? He’d probably start purring! He couldn’t help but seek out your touch with a nuzzle of his cheek, craving the feeling of your sweet lips against his skin.

“I love you,” he breathed, fighting the urge to whine as your hand moved away to hook onto your trousers, eventually undoing them, taking them off and also taking off your underwear in suit. Your fingers moved to slide Phileas’s night shirt off his shoulders, taking the time to also slip off the fabric at his hips.

You took a second to admire his smooth skin, it was certainly pale, no doubt about that, yet ever so slightly tanned from many weeks abroad. A few patches of hair grew around his chest and just where his waistband would’ve been. Constellations of tiny freckles decorated the gentleman’s body, some sprinkled over his shoulders and some over his hips. You couldn’t help but take a moment to place your hands across his chest and belly, admiring the warmth of his body. He truly was beautiful.

It was hard for Phileas not to shrink under your gaze. You’d never admired him like this. You appeared fascinated by his features, and he fascinated by yours. It was as though you’d never seen something so…lovely. “I love you too.” You murmured, taking a moment to pepper more kisses around the man’s torso.

Your hips eventually moved, your body positioning itself comfortably before you finally sank down — a whimper of both utter pleasure and relief rising from Phileas’s throat. He wasn’t exactly one for making big, flashy noises but it was hard not to make any with the way you began to ride him. The feeling was somewhat unfamiliar but he most certainly understood why many enjoyed it so much. The feeling of your hips rolling and your hands occasionally taking a chance to grasp at his chest was practically heavenly.

For what felt like hours, you teasingly slowed down the second Phileas started pleading — the blazing knot within his abdomen threatening to snap. The sensation was torturous yet he couldn’t help but enjoy the fact he could simply soak up your presence for longer. “Please..” sighed Phileas, staring up at you with those lovely, chocolatey eyes — sweat making the usual strands of hair that would dangle in front of his eyes stick to his forehead. “Please.”

You couldn’t resist the pure need swirling in the man’s eyes. You allowed your hips to roll at a quicker pace, Phileas’s hands occasionally squeezing any part of your body he could find as he felt himself getting closer. He needed you, craved you more than he ever had before. Knowing you loved him so much that you’d given him as much pleasure as this was something he’d never thought he’d experience. He’s loved you so deeply and, for once, he’d managed to receive that love back.

A strangled moan left Phileas’s throat as you both came together, his body jutting against yours for a moment before the sensation of his body going slack was evident. He hadn’t noticed how spaced out he was until he felt you lie back down next to him. He felt as if you’d completely knocked him out!

Softly panting, the gentleman heaved his body onto its side so he was able to rest his head against your chest, the still rapid thumping of your heart audible to him. “..thank you for doing that for me..” he murmured, cheeks slightly rosy. “I, erm, never expected someone to consider..that.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” You mumbled, wrapping your arms around him and gently squeezing him for a moment. Phileas’s arms curled around you in suit, his movement sluggish and shaky. You had to bite back a smug smirk at how visibly knocked out he was. Good job, Y/n.

“I love you.” Mumbled Phileas against your chest, eyes battling to stay open for the moment.

“I love you too.” You replied, resting your chin against the crown of his head and allowing yourself to close your eyes.

(Sorry if there’s any errors, I legit finished this at like 12:30am💀 also, if my capability at writing smut is awful too, I’m also sorry for that)

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Gang, why has the curse of exhaustion and hardly any motivation turned on me??💔 (also, I’ll be going on a mini haitus for a few days next week bc I’m going to Ypres for a residential trip)

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Apologies for no fics in the last 2 days, chat. I’m so tired and overheated but I’m writing, o swear😭🙏

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ghosts anon here that was saur sillay.. I loved that the ghosts had the initiative to talk to him1! and they got to party!! thank you thank you

Hi again! Aw, thanks sm! I’m super glad you enjoyed it :D

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This might be a bit weird just bc it's kinda ooc lol

But do you think you could write a Cale Erendreich x reader where they go on a date?

(Suggestion: they go to the world's biggest bookstore; Powells. It's in Portland and the movie is set in Portland lol)

Hi!! Nah, don’t worry, it’s not weird at all! Thank you for giving a place to set it tho because I’m horrific at navigating certain places like America💀 (I’m British) and I hate it when I make things inaccurate so thanks sm!

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Useful communication (request)

“My sweet, sweet Alison,” cooed Thomas, his hands clasped above where his fluttering heart would be, “surely you could stay here a little longer? For me?” The poet batted his lashes, praying that his sweet love would choose to stay in Button House.

Alison pressed her lips into a thin line, seemingly judgemental. “As much as I’m sure you’d appreciate it, I’m still not staying, Thomas. I’ve been arranging this party for weeks, I can’t just back out because some dead, regency bloke told me to.”

“You’ve got to let the woman enjoy her life, mate.” Sighed Pat, folding his arms over his chest and adjusting his old, 80s frames. For the past hour, Thomas had been badgering poor Alison as she got ready to leave for a family reunion between a few of her cousins — now finally applying the last few touches of her makeup before packing her handbag.

“Y’know whilst you’re out, you wouldn’t mind nicking a few of those cocktails that Nikki makes for me, would you?” Pondered Mike as he strolled towards his wife, currently wearing a thick hoodie, a pair of random joggers and some pink, fluffy slippers that Alison had forgotten to wear recently. “I think they’re probably the best ones I’ve ever had.” He remarked dreamily, imagining the sweet taste of tropical ice and sharp vodka rushing over his tongue.

“A cocktail? A cocktail is like…well, it’s like a really strong, sweet wine.” Explained Alison, seemingly speaking to one of the ghosts beside her as she applied some lipstick. She was always surrounded by those ghosts. What were their names again? Mike was sure there was a Pat and a Julia..or was it Julian? Then there was a Fanny and a Captain. Oh, and there was most definitely a Thomas! Mike couldn’t help but wish he could speak to those ghosts himself, he’d always found himself left out of jokes, conversations and even events!

“So who’s next to you this time?” He asked, stealing a piece of chocolate from his wife’s drawer with a quick smirk.

“Oi! Well, it’s just Thomas…and Pat…and basically everyone else now. Y’know you don’t have to congregate in here guys!”

“Oh, let me reminisce partying in peace!” Remarked Julian, huffing and folding his arms over his chest miserably at the thought of never being able to chug alcohol and have a cheeky hook up in some random room.

“Reminiscing won’t do you any good, mate,” said Pat, “plus, we can still party here, can’t we?”

“Oo, Alison, please may we party?” Begged Kitty as she hopped into the room, hands clasped together and squeezing each other tightly in excitement.

“No! Look, can you guys please just let me get ready? We can arrange that at another time, we don’t even have enough space in the house right now!” Snapped Alison, feeling her husband’s worried gaze fall onto her.

“Space wouldn’t exactly be a problem for us-“ began Captain, awkwardly bouncing on his heels.

“Shh! One mustn’t irritate a lady! It can cause terrible wrinkles!” Ordered Fanny from the other side of the room, previously having been gazing out of a window in the nearest room before coming in to hear the conversation.

“Thank you, Fanny..” murmured Alison, finally finishing her lipstick and throwing her phone into her bag. “Right,” she stated, standing up, “I’ll see you at around nine, I won’t stay out too late.” She smiled, moving to kiss Mike’s cheek before making her way out of the room.

Thomas glared at Mike, practically seething with jealousy. Why couldn’t that be him? All he wanted was to have Alison to himself. All he ever wanted to do was run his fingers through her silky, brown hair, brush his thumbs over her rosy cheeks and recite his love poems to her and await her sweet reaction. “Alison!” Called the poet, following his love out of the room whilst the rest of the ghosts stood within the bedroom. He would not be staying with Mike all night.

“Me want party.” Grunted Robin.

“Me too.” Nodded Julian.

“So do I!!” Nodded Kitty eagerly.

“I can’t exactly say that I’ve been to a party besides the one that Alison had here a few months ago but, er, I too agree.” Added Captain.

“Well we can’t party now! Alison’s gone and there’s nobody for us to party with besides each other!” Reasoned Pat, seemingly upset by the thought.

“Hold on…there is one person we could part with..” Suggested Julian, his gaze narrowing down on an oblivious Mike who was now chilling in bed with a huge bowl of tiramisu whilst his dead housemates conversed.

“Ohhh.” The ghosts all replied in unison, gradually smiling in excitement.

“Maybe he could talk into the telephone and get some other people to join us, some..friendly gentlemen..” murmured Captain in thought, his voice trailing off. “And some nice ladies, of course.”

“Right. Sorted!” Grinned Julian, rubbing his hands together. “So, how do we get him to communicate with us?”

“You could always knock over a vase or something, that’s what you normally do.” Shrugged Pat.

“You poke him. Get him to use phone, call friends.” Suggested Robin.

“That’s a pretty solid plan, actually.” Agreed Julian.

And with that, the politician moved towards an oblivious Mike whilst the others watched as he used all his might to prod at Mike’s arm. “What the..oi! Look, I know Alison puts up with you guys all the time and she’d want me to as well but tonight I’m resting.” Huffed Mike, frowning before shoving another spoon of tiramisu into his mouth. Maybe he didn’t want to communicate with those ghosts. Actually, scratch that. The last time he did, they saved him from being robbed. “Actually, never mind. What is it?” He replied, looking around at the ceiling.

“He’s never going to stop thinking we’re up there, will he?” Sighed Thomas as he poked his head through the doorway, likely having chased Alison down the driveway a few minutes prior.

“How am I supposed to answer that?” Grilled Julian, eyes searching his friends for ideas.

“Uhh…oh! Try and nudge his phone! Maybe use that notes thing that Alison was talking about yesterday!” Replied Kitty.

“Perfect!” Cheered Julian, using whatever force he could to push Mike’s phone around before the man picked it up and let Julian type in what he wanted to.

“Party.”

“Party?” Questioned Mike. “Wait..you guys want to party?”

“Yes. With you. Lights. Kylie Minogue.”

“Do we always need to play that when we get to dance, Thomas?” Whined Pat, practically sick of hearing all of her songs on repeat every time Thomas made contact with a speaker.

“What? Her words are the finest poetry I’ve ever heard!”

“What about that Billie Piper?” Suggested Captain sheepishly. “I believe her songs are quiet..groovy..?”

“You like pop, don’t you Captain?” Grinned Kitty. “You always tap your feet when I play the Spice girls and especially Britney Spears!”

“Well, I can’t exactly argue..they all make very nice rhythms.” Answered the solider sheepishly, feeling everyone’s gaze on him.

“Okay. Billie Piper, Kylie Minogue, Spice Girls and Britney. Anything else?” Announced Julian, fingers hovering over Mike’s phone whilst he curiously waited for the ghosts’s requests.

“Could we do some Michael Jackson?” Chimed Pat.

“Kylie Minogue. Billie Piper. Britney Spears. Spice Girls. Michael Jackson.”

“Wow. I’m seriously getting a bunch of ghosts to put in their song requests for a party.” Muttered Mike, dumbfounded. “At least you guys have good taste.” He shrugged. He took a moment to scoff the rest of his tiramisu before hopping out of bed and hunting down a few speakers, some disco lights and a few decorative drinks for the ghosts (Julian) to stare at.

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“Are you sure you guys don’t mind being alone? I messaged a few of my mates but they’ve not replied…y’know, seeing as it’s nine o’clock at night.” Wondered Mike, phone still held out so Julian could type into it.

“Yes.”

Welp. That settled it. Mike clicked play onto a shuffled playlist of all the songs that the ghosts asked for and watched as the empty room was filled with loud, fun music and shining lights. A bustling energy brewed within him and before he knew it, Mike was singing along to some random pop tunes from twenty years ago and hitting some great dance moves.

Unbeknownst to him, Humphrey’s head cheered him on from the nearest coffee table whilst he watched Kitty teach Captain and Thomas some dance moves whilst Robin stared at some alcoholic beverages as Julian taught him the history behind them and how to make them. The invitation had gone so far that even the plague ghosts were allowed up to come and party! Humphrey had never seen them so happy!

Despite being unable to see them, Mike could feel the joy within the room and he couldn’t help but be filled with it too. He danced and swayed with the music and even made himself his own little cocktail. Even if he couldn’t communicate with them that well, it felt nice to speak to the ghosts for once. They seemed nice and had great music taste. It was nice to be included. Now he understood why Alison liked them so much.

Speaking of Alison, just as Mike thought about her, the sound of her shocked laughter came from the nearest doorway. “Oh, my God!” She grinned. “You did all this? Was it for them?”

“Yeah! One of ‘em typed a bunch of stuff into my phone and here we are. I can’t even see them but it’s actually great.” Smiled Mike.

“Well, you’ve done a great job! Cmon, dance with me!” Beamed Alison, taking her husband’s arms and swaying to the beat of the newest song playing.

Maybe Mike should’ve spoken to these ghosts sooner!

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Glad to see another great fellow with amazing taste agree with me. Could you perhaps give us a fanfic where it comes to light? I think it is most logical (unless if you don't want to, of course).

I can completely agree and I’d be honoured to do that

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Bottom Phileas Fogg. ;)

A fellow person of culture I see. I here you ;)

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(Felt like it’d be cool to have this on here too)

Around The World With The West End Gentleman

(Male!reader x Phileas Fogg)

This’ll be two chapters combined bc they’re kinda short. Not much happens here btw, it’s mostly just setting the scene. This is also on my wattpad :)

(𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖𝟕𝟏, 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐥, 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧)

Thank fuck you started to work part time.

Unfortunately, a career in policing wasn't exactly your best friend at the moment — multiple people having gotten into trouble over a bar fight which ended up in one man being killed, his friends now trying to go after the bloke that'd killed him. Somehow, you'd managed to get caught up in the situation and ended up getting into a fight with a bloody gang member and you didn't even do anything to provoke him!

Oddly enough, your superiors had agreed to let you work part time, obviously paying you less for not being in for as much time but still giving you enough money to live. You'd been working there for about five years and had luckily managed to collect around £20,000 after all of that time, being paid around 25s a day which was then risen to 33s! That meant you could buy a house, your own house, in the West End! You'd never been so happy about something so boring in your life but you sure as hell were. This was more money than you'd ever had in a lifetime and you could finally buy yourself a house in a better area with, hopefully, a better environment.

You had to admit, you were tired of tossing and turning at night when hundreds of drunkards would go in and out of the Ten Bells pub by your little house each night, some people even crowding around outside. It was especially awkward when you'd stuck your head out of the window for some fresh air one night and saw an unfortunate woman trying to convince a drunk man to use her services. You'd felt bad, she just wanted some money and he just wanted to go home, but...did they have to do that in earshot of your room?

However, you would miss the atmosphere and the people you knew. Despite it not being the best place to live, in fact it was a shit place for you, you would miss it. You had friends there, some who'd helped each other get into little groups as kids and learnt how to read together despite not being able to afford education, some who'd snuck you extra bits of food during work hours as a teen and some who'd watched over you, seeing you alone as a child and taking you under their wing. But, you knew it wasn't the best to stick with the past, you needed a fresh start. Plus, you weren't exactly moving that far away from your friends anyway, or at least you hoped.

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"That should be all of 'em, sir," said the coachman as he handed you your last suitcase. You were finally here, your new home.

"Cheers.." you murmured, still admiring the exterior of your home. Compared to some others in the area, it wasn't much, rather plain even, but to you it was gorgeous. It had so much space, it was so clean and had the most lovely architecture. You couldn't take your eyes off it, even as you'd walked in, staring up the grand staircase leading upstairs in wonder. You didn't have to share a room with strangers anymore, like you did as a kid, let alone rent your own flat like you did a few months ago. This was truly, truly brilliant.

Your house was clean, some rooms having a few bits of furniture left over from when your first looked at the property, the seller giving you an odd look when your first turned up but you'd brushed it off. You even had a bath tub, with a running tap! You didn't have to rely on a large, metal tub with a furnace at the end to keep the water heated when you could just have a hot water tap!

Oh, and the bedroom, oh, the bedroom. The bedroom was probably one of the most amazing things you'd set eyes on. There was no longer a single size bed, but instead a king size which was all neatly made with its own duvets already on it, clearly as some kind of gift from the original owners once they'd realised you weren't exactly equipped with a great amount of money, and had a brilliant texture, being soft to lie on and great to sleep in. You'd never had enough room to stretch in your life. Hell, you could sleep on that thing for days at a time if you could! And the space in the room was lovely, you were able to buy a desk to put on one side of your room for your paperwork and you were even able to put all of your freshly washed clothes in a wardrobe along with your shoes. It was brilliant!

You were certainly going to enjoy it here, the scenery, the cleanliness and the community.

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(𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲, 𝟏𝟖𝟕𝟐, 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧)

Wrapping yourself in a thick frock coat, you stepped foot outside into the street. It was a crisp morning, the sky, which had an icy tint to it, was clear of all clouds and a warm beam of sunlight fell onto the Earth. Your breath was even visible as puffs of steam in the air which faded out into the atmosphere.

For some reason, you'd felt like going for a walk. You'd woken up reasonably early that morning and just had a slightly odd burst of energy. The streets were reasonably empty, due to it being a Friday and most other residents being...somewhere. You didn't exactly know. In all honesty, you hadn't particularly made much effort with socialising with anybody in your area, still being busy with your old job in Whitechapel during most of the week.

As you strolled through your near by area, your eyes suddenly caught onto what looked to be a large, well structured and managed building with a few people walking up the staircase to get in. What could've been in there? You quietly went up the steps leading into the building, trying your hardest to blend in with the gentlemen in front of you. By the time you'd gotten into the building, you'd managed to get a few bearings of the place. It appeared to be a gentlemen's club, a Reform Club they seemed to call it. Wow, politics. Deep joy.

Initially, you felt like turning around to leave, you didn't exactly know much about politics besides the law but couldn't help but turn back into the building. Maybe this could help you actually get to know some new people, as much as the idea pained you.

You began to make your way towards what looked to be the entrance staff, a large marble desk surrounding them. They clearly gave you an odd look, your suit seeming slightly...less proper compared to those who attended the club. "Erm, sir, are you supposed to be in here? What is it that you need?" Questioned one of the men at the desk, raising an eyebrow at you curiously.

"Oh, uh, I was just wonderin'...how exactly d'you apply for a membership here?" You asked, trying your hardest to get rid of that accent of yours. Nobody would want to speak to you around here if they heard that.

"You must have at least two members here that know you personally and would like to vote you in or you can pay for a membership yourself." Replied the worker, his tone rather odd as he spoke, like he was expecting you to turn around.

"Right..and how much is it?"

"It's twenty pounds, sir."

Oh. Twenty quid...that wasn't exactly helpful. You only had about fifteen pounds on you, which used to be a hell of a lot to carry around but now it didn't seem to be. You reached a hand into your trouser pocket, maybe you left it in there?

Rustle, rustle.

You did have it!

"Very well, then," you replied, placing the paper notes onto the desk, "twenty quid. Pounds." The worker stared at you for a moment, silently surprised.

After a few seconds of staring, he nodded with a smile, taking the money and handing it to one of his colleagues. "Very well, indeed, sir. And, what is your name?"

"Y/n y/l/n." You answered, hands sliding into the pockets of your frock coat as you waited.

"Y/n...y/l/n.." he muttered, writing it onto a small piece of paper with a fountain pen. "Good. Thank you, sir. The Club opens at eight o'clock sharp spanning from every Monday to Saturday and closes at approximately eleven pm. See you tomorrow morning." He smiled.

"Yes..cheers. I'll see you tomorrow." You nodded, surprised at how easy the interaction was.

Tomorrow morning.

Well, you had to make sure you were ready.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

(𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟏𝟖𝟕𝟐, 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧)

Your fingers nervously fiddled with your tie as you prepared yourself to go to the Reform Club. You really hadn't thought this through, had you? Not only did you not know anyone around the area, you'd just joined a club which looked to be a bunch of men sat in a big lounge area, with people they actually knew. How the hell were you supposed to go in there without getting weird stares or have to awkwardly sit with a group of men who didn't even know you?

You sighed shakily. Maybe this was a mistake. Did you really need to meet new people, let alone what were probably a bunch of prestigious, stuck up rich blokes? Not exactly, but you knew it was better to socialise, get to know people so you weren't so alone. After all, you'd been there for a few months now so it was best you actually met some people rather than going around looking strange.

Eventually, you smoothed out your suit with your hands, getting a strange sense of determination, and began to head out of the house and en route to the Reform Club. It was going to be fine, everything would be fine. They were all gentlemen, some being elderly and the rest middle aged, so they'd probably given up on caring about new people joining or if that person wasn't exactly one of their social class just yet. Yes, that was it. You would be absolutely fine, willingly accepted even.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

As you'd stepped into the Club, a man around your age stepped forward, smiling at you. "Ah, you must be Mr y/l/n. I'll be giving you a quick tour of the Club, if you'd like to follow me." He announced, standing in front of you sensibly. He appeared to be wearing a fancy waiter's uniform, his suit was black and he had a little black bow on his collar. His posture was concerningly impressive, not a single slouch in sight. Now that was odd. His hand raised to signal towards the grand staircase in front of you two and you nodded in response, beginning to follow him around. The staircase was huge, having clearly been made with some kind of marble with the way it shone in the sun and had a smooth surface to it, in fact, it was so smooth and clean that you almost felt guilty putting the soles of your shoes on each step.

At the top of the stairs lied multiple sets of thick, oaky doors which lead to what you guessed was other rooms that were used for meetings. The area around you was enormous, having been covered in colossal pillars that were built around the staircase along with sparkling windows that allowed the building to soak in the sun whilst a few men strolled around, some being waiters and some being residents. It was truly beautiful, a mundane beauty but yet still appealing.

"Now, as you can see we have many meeting rooms around here, most for our local MPs and others for members such as yourself. If we turn right here, you can find the smoke room and down the left should be the library. Downstairs is the kitchens, a few offices as well as a bar which resides a pool table and a table for cards." Explained your tour guide, using his hand each and every time he tried to direct you somewhere, simply pointing in whatever direction he thought best. "And lastly, we have our usual meeting room," he added, gesturing to a room that turned out to be right behind you, "would you like me to introduce you to your fellow members?"

You froze for a second. Were you sure you wanted to do this? Oh, it was only people. No. It was people. The most judgemental species that could've ever been created. Oh, what the fuck did it matter? You only live once, right? "Of course." You nodded, attempting to seem eager before more doubt and anxiety bled into your conscience. 

"Very well, then." Nodded the guide, smiling kindly before opening one of the hefty wooden doors to the meeting room. How on earth did he manage to move that thing?

Eventually, the door was wide open, revealing a lounge like area which was in an impeccable condition, all objects inside it being neat and tiny no matter where you looked. The furniture was posh, clearly comfortable enough for people to be leaning back into them with their daily newspapers, with an almost rococo like manufacturing to them. Well, what you'd always imagined rococo to look like, at least.

The room smelt heavily of tea, some having evidently been made with sugar. The clear scent of coffee was also there in the mix too, occasionally being bitter to the senses depending on the observer's mood. Hidden somewhere amongst the caffeinated aromas, you could pick up on the smell of pastries coming from what you'd guessed to be men having their breakfasts. Was it already breakfast time? You'd checked your watch before you'd left home but it felt as if you'd spent years admiring the building, so you guessed it had just ended.

You could feel the curious gaze of a few of the gentlemen sat by the door eyeing you up. One wrong move around a stranger and it could be like an attack, so you refrained from glancing over at them. However, on the other hand, your tour guide seemed to look over at them and smile. He appeared to be waiting for the chatter in the room to go quiet, yet most men weren't exactly paying attention. The chatter itself wasn't exactly loud but it was prominent enough to notice that not many people could hear outside of their conversations.

One gentlemen seemed to stand out for a moment, he was practically staring at you and your guide as if you two were some kind of spectacle and appeared to be watching the other men in the room whilst also waiting for them to go quiet, except they didn't. How lovely, not only were you being ogled by some random man on your first day here but also standing there like an idiot, waiting for the room to go quiet as if you were that important. You sighed quietly. Great, now you just looked a fool, a fool who resembled a little boy waiting for his mother to come and assist him after dropping a piece of refinery.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

"Bellers? Bellamy, what exactly are you glancing around for?" Questioned Fortescue, the blond man's brow knitting in confusion. Not only had he been mid conversation about his daughter's new style of writing but also about important topics in finance when Bellamy suddenly just looked away and now he simply felt ignored. Why would Bellamy of all people simply ignore an actually interesting conversation?

"Hm?" Replied Bellamy, his gaze flicking back to his friend, "well, it's just there's a young chap in the doorway, looking rather helpless besides Mr Jones." He explained, his gaze looking you up and down carefully. You appeared to be a somewhat respectable gentleman, your suit ever so slightly tattered but still neat. You looked to be the youngest man in there, of course you were hardly fresh-faced but yet also not at the vast age of some others in the room. "I believe Jones's waiting for us to go quiet."

"Oh, indeed he is." Agreed Fortescue in surprise, his gaze curiously focusing on you and Mr Jones in the doorway. He guessed you were a new member, after all, most people didn't simply waltz into a random building filled with gentlemen, only to stand in the doorway with a tour guide without paying for something.

"I believe help is in order." Stated Bellamy, neatly folding his news paper and placing it onto the table in front of him. His heavy chair scraped against the floor as he stood up before making his way over to you and your guide.

"Gentlemen!" He exclaimed, his voice as loud as a horse's neigh. All eyes turned towards him, men raising their eyebrows in judgement and confusion, what could he possibly be needing everyone's attention for?

Your gaze turned to Bellamy. He was a reasonably tall man, slight stocky in his stature, with dark hair, which he'd clearly brushed back, with a few greys fading up his sideburns. His face was somewhat pale, a few wrinkles here and there (mostly based around his forehead), his eyes were a coal shade and he had a rather prominent nose which usually scrunched into a sneer depending on his mood. His hand raised to signal the man beside you, evidently wishing for him to speak what he wished after waiting so long.

"Right," nodded your tour guide — Mr Jones as the others clearly knew him as, "thank you, Mr Bellamy. Gentlemen, I'm glad to inform you that a new member has joined the club." He announced, a kind smile on his face as he turned to you, as if showing you off. "This is Mr y/l/n."

How the actual fuck could a man be as much of a fool as to make the entire room look over to another man who had no idea what he was doing in that place? You really wished you could crawl into a hole and die with the way everyone was blankly staring at you. It felt like you were a piece of meat being sold to a butcher. You awkwardly lifted your hand up as a small "hello", a half smile crossing your lips before you stared back at Mr Jones, eyes as fearful as a rabbit that was about to be eaten by a fox. Oh, bugger this.

Your audience murmured, some smiling and some just peering at you, probably being used to the amount of men introduced in this way. Amongst them, Bellamy stood watching you with a visibly amused expression. You certainly weren't supposed to be here, were you? Perhaps, despite your awkward demeanour, you could've been some decent company. After all, it would've been nice to play pool and speak to someone other than Fortescue or timid, old Foggy.

Eventually, the previous chatter returned and most residents turning back to their usual conversations, a few men coming over to introduce themselves, shaking your hand politely. You didn't exactly talk much and tried your hardest to pronounce all of your letters, you'd prefer not to get strange looks for your lack of pronunciation.

The last person to introduce himself was Bellamy, him having turned towards you with his hand out. "Bellamy," he stated, watching as your hand reached out to shake his before a slight smile graced his lips. "That there," he began, using his hand to gesture to his friend, whose head was mostly stuck in his newspaper, "is Fortescue, editor of the daily telegraph. I don't suppose you've read the usual paper this morning?"

You'd hardly picked up a newspaper in your life, unless it was for evidence. "Indeed I haven't." He replied, nodding along as if you actually wanted this conversation. Alright, you knew this place was for first class, rich gentlemen but you did not expect a man as proper as the Bernard Fortescue to be there. Why did you have to torture yourself like this? If you were to say one word wrong, he could've written an article about it!

"Well, come along. You can come read it with us, it'd be nice to have some new company." Remarked Bellamy, strolling back to his seat and picking up his newspaper once again.

There was an empty seat between the two which you evidently sat on, carefully picking up the newspaper that was oddly left on the table in front of you, unfolded it and began to read some of it. Needless to say, it was a bunch of irrelevant information about things across the country and the empire which was ultimately uninteresting. How lovely. You prayed that this wasn't what you were going to do every morning; if it was, you firmly believed you'd end up crawling back to dirty, old Whitechapel with your tail between your legs and craving to get back to full time police work.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

"Morning, sir," greeted a hoarse voice, kind in its nature.

"Morning, Grayson.." replied the still rather sleepy voice of Mr Fogg, his lanky frame half hunched over in exhaustion. Despite the many years of experience in his same routine, he'd never get used to being out of the house by ten o'clock, let alone awake at half seven.

Fogg's arms slowly moved up as Grayson placed down his usual tray of tea, eventually feeling his servant's shaky fingers do up the buttons of his shirt cuffs. He really ought to have advised Grayson to go and rest or to see a Doctor with how much his hands shook. He hoped it would be a temporary thing, he truly did hate to watch Grayson struggle.

"Any post this morning, Grayson?" Wondered Phileas, his voice a low volume, seemingly enjoying the comfortable silence. He hadn't had much post recently, which was odd. However, Christmas had just passed so it must've just been people having to let their bank accounts breathe for a while.

"Not yet, sir, but I'm sure it'll start coming through soon." Answered Grayson, his increasingly aging fingers doing up the last button of Fogg's shirt. It felt strange, sad even, not seeing that same man in his forties staring back at a rather young Phileas.

A low hum left the rich man's throat before he slipped on his waist coat, once again watching as the buttons were done up, before placing on his shoes and his frock coat. "Thank you, Grayson." He said, watching as a light smile crept up his servant's lips before he shuffled away, taking the master's empty tray with him. It was best Fogg left now, despite it being rather early for his departure. Grayson needed some rest for once.

Eventually, after realising his hair was a mess in the nearby mirror and combing it out into its usual shape, Phileas stepped foot outside — a nice, cool breeze brushing past him before the comforting heat of the sun shone down on him. Hopefully, he'd skipped breakfast. Unfortunately, as much as he'd have hated to admit, he wasn't exactly fond of the breakfasts served at the Reform Club, half of it being plain pastries like croissants or random, bland oats that'd probably been left in a cupboard for about a month beforehand. The lunches and dinners, on the other hand, were quite lovely.

Ironically, the rather pointless debate about foods had gone on inside Phileas's head so long that he'd eventually reached the Reform Club by the time he'd stopped pondering on it. Well, at least it showed he still had a bit of a spark in him...even if it was a stupid debate about bland tasting foods. Of course, the Reform Club was hardly any different than usual, the stairs leading up to the meeting room being as quiet as always, the kitchen staff moving up and down as they brought drinks in and out.

Just as Fogg reached the meeting room, his eyes settled on something, or someone, completely out of place. His seat wasn't free and clearly had another man sitting in it, the man simply sitting and nodding along politely as Bellamy and Fortescue nattered onto each other. Did they not care that his usual seat, for many years now, had just been taken? Did they invite that man to sit there, too? Ultimately, it wasn't a huge deal seeing as Phileas was earlier than usual, but his seat had been taken nonetheless!

"Excuse me," he stated, his demeanour still rather polite but a clear sense of irritation was evident, "who are you?" He quizzed, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. As lovely as having a new person to talk to was, he preferred to at least have his own seat first.

"Ah, Foggy. You're here early." Said Fortescue, a happy expression on his face before a tiny knit of confusion caught in his brow. How early did Phileas wake up to be there then?

Your gaze looked up from the fingers in which you'd been picking at to meet the gaze of a rather lanky man, his figure certainly tall, with coffee brown hair which seemed to be brushed back — a slight wave in his locks being evident and a little bit of grey was also fading up his sideburns. Mr Fogg's face was reasonably pale, a dark moustache sitting on his top lip, and his face also seemed to house two big, chocolatey eyes.

"This is Mr y/l/n," replied Bellamy, as if he was explaining the situation to a child, which you tried hard not to frown at, "he joined the club this morning..however, he did just happen to sit in your chair." He added, clearly fighting back a smirk.

"Really?" Asked Phileas, his gaze turning back to you. You looked back at him, feeling incredibly awkward, and gave him a slight nod and a small "hello", praying he'd try and understand you had zero clue what the fuck you were doing.

You could've sworn a soft sigh of defeat left Fogg's nose as he realised his irritation and rather pathetic attempt at intimidation was pointless before he turned to a random butler and asked for another chair, the butler conveniently placing it next to yours.

"Well, Mr y/l/n," said Mr Fogg, slowly growing more curious than annoyed, "what made you join the Reform Club?" Shit, how the fuck were you meant to answer that without everybody knowing you actually had a job and didn't sit around all day in a club for rich gentlemen? Maybe...maybe the key to being accepted was to just be honest, maybe they'd show interest in your work rather than look at you as if you were a waste of space.

"Well, I, er, decided to come 'ere to help myself get used to the community 'round here." Ah, shit, not only had you forgotten to pronounce the correct bloody letter once but twice! "Especially seeing as I'm still working most days." Ah, good move. Sliding in a little hint that you had enough money to survive without working all five days a week, good job, y/n.

"Hm, really?" Fogg inquired, appearing to actually find interest in your situation despite the clear look of judgement you were getting from Bellamy, who hadn't even worked a day in his life. Well, you doubted most men in the club had ever worked themselves either. "And what exactly do you do?"

"Well, I'm a police officer, a Sergeant to be specific." You replied, keeping your gaze away from Mr Fogg. Now that seemed to peak the interest of the other men at your table.

"A Sergeant?" Repeated Fortescue, looking up from his newspaper in wonder.

"Yes," you nodded, trying to ease the spotlight off of you for a bit, "it's hardly anything interesting."

"Now, now, Fortescue. Leave the man be, I'm sure he'd rather not have your writers picking at his cases." Warned Bellamy, giving his friend a knowing look.

"I'll have you know I wasn't going to have them do that, actually. I'm simply interested." Corrected Fortescue, his gaze moving back down to his newspaper, embarrassed at the fast realisation. He seemed to wait a minute before looking back up once again, allowing himself to learn at least a little bit about the police. "Are there any serious cases going on at the moment or are you simply revising old ones?" He asked curiously.

"Just revising, 's just an old case of theft." You replied, a small shrug rolling through your shoulders. There really wasn't anything particularly interesting about what you were doing so far, however, it kept you sane. You'd never forget an old murder case you'd been working on a while back which had gotten so hectic and stressful that you ended up losing days worth of sleep, even using an opium den to try and calm yourself, unfortunately a friend of yours had convinced you to go a lot and from then on, things went miles down hill. Needless to say, you wouldn't be bringing that up; especially seeing as how long it took for you to recover.

"Well, it might be old but at least you're getting it solved." Said Fogg, his view surprisingly optimistic. You'd thought he'd find your presence rather irritating due to his stolen chair and lack of proper greeting but instead he seemed quiet, quite interested in your occupation, however, timid in his nature. You had to admit, you preferred timid people, half the time they were much nicer, either that or interesting. "I, erm, don't suppose you have any free time to send a few constables over to my estate..could you? It's only because a chap across the road had a few things stolen from him the other day and he believes there's some evidence left over."

"Oh..yes, I suppose I'll have some spare time. Is there a select day you need them or will any time do?" You answered.

"I'd suspect this Thursday will be ideal, I don't live too far from here, I'm rather close to Trafalgar Square. If you'd like I can arrange some tea to be served at around lunch time, I suspect it can give us some time to get to know each other." He offered, a rather bold ask. He'd only known you about ten minutes and you'd already been invited around for some tea. Well, he did look as if a new acquaintance would do him some good.

"That sounds good, thank you, Mr...uhh.." you replied, the realisation that you hadn't even gotten the courage to ask for his name hitting you like a tone of embarrassing bricks.

"Fogg, Phileas Fogg." He announced, his tone polite, as if respecting your mistake.

"Right, Mr Fogg." You nodded. 'Phileas Fogg, remember that, y/n,' you thought to yourself.

Phileas Fogg, the man near Trafalgar Square, West End.

Maybe, just maybe, this Mr Phileas Fogg could be interesting.

[dxvidtxn]

Hello! Sorry for not leaving a very coherent fanfic idea in your ask box BUT i would very much like to see what you would do so... AND sorry if this Brings back something that you dont wanna do. What about a one-shot fanfic of one of your latest Phileas Bots?

Hey! Oh, don’t worry it’s totally fine! I might do that actually (probably with a lot of characters) seeing as some of the plots that people asked me to do were REALLY interesting and I don’t really want them to go to waste by me abandoning them. I’ll try and find whatever story line I find the best to write up! :)

[dxvidtxn]

hi <3 I saw your post asking for request!! I’d love to read anything alec hardy x reader really! smut is my fav but only if you want and are comfortable with it. again, I’ll be happy to read anything! we need more alec stuff!!!

Hi!! Literally though! I swear there’s never enough Alec fics 😭 Although, I can definitely think of some plots I might do which I hope you’ll be interested in — and seeing as you’ve mentioned, I’ll try and add some spice ;)

[dxvidtxn]

A calm evening (request)

(Alec x teen!gn!reader)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

“‘Ello, sweetheart.” Greeted Alec as he watched you kick a stone across the ground outside of the Broadchurch police station. “How was school?”

“It was okay.” You shrugged, gaze fixed on the stone at your feet. Jeez, you’d never felt so tired in your life. Not only had you been working your arse off all day at school but you still had to at home!

“You sure?” Quizzed your father, raising an eyebrow as he saw your sullen expression. His attention turned toward the sigh that left your throat as you looked back up at him, an utterly exhausted and miserable expression seeping across your features.

“It’s just..I’m so tired, Dad.” You sighed. “I’ve had so many exams and I’ve still got six more to do! A-and my teachers are still giving me bucket loads of homework, it’s like they don’t care! I can’t do anything in the evenings besides revision!!”

Alec huffed in joint irritation. He hardly got to see you during the week and now, the one time he saw his lovely child, you were stressed and exasperated. “Oh, ‘m sorry love.” He murmured pitifully, holding his arms out before feeling you come forward and curl into him. “It’ll get better, I promise. ‘M sorry I can’t do anything to help.”

“It’s fine, Dad. It’s not like it’s your fault, is it?” You replied, a feeling of hopelessness consuming you, despite the comforting warmth of your father’s chest against your cheek. For once, you saw a little smile spread across his face. He looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Well, there’s not much I can do but I do know there’s chippie down the road. You fancy one?”

“But you hardly ever eat.” You laughed, that usual happiness in your gaze coming back for a moment, causing a proud feeling to rise up inside Alec. “‘S unlike you.”

“Anything to make you feel better, darlin’.” He answered, squeezing your arms with his rough hands before letting you go. “C’mon, my treat.” He insisted, holding out his hand to signal you to walk along beside him.

“Alright.” You shrugged, flashing him an appreciative look before speed walking towards him — his long legs making it hard for you to catch up. “So,” you began, shoving your hands into your pockets, “how’s work?”

“Eh, it’s..it’s as crap as usual to be honest, kid.” He remarked. “Miller’s as annoying as ever.”

“What? Miller, annoying? Seriously? I like Miller.” You frowned.

“That’s ’cause you don’t work with her.”

“Yeah, well I sit next to Tom in science and he’s alright. He’s funny, actually.”

“Still not changing my opinions.” Stated Alec nonchalantly. God, he could be stubborn sometimes. “You’re still just a wee bairn, darlin’. Believe me, your thoughts on ‘em will change.”

“Dad, I’m fifteen.” You huffed. “You just don’t like Miller because she puts you in your place, doesn’t she?”

“…”

You snickered at the grumpy expression that rose upon Alec’s face. Oo, you’d caught him out! “I knew it!” You giggled, slapping his arms playfully. “She’s really not that bad, Dad. You just don’t like how good of a detective she is.”

“Oh, shush.” Grumbled Alec, rolling his eyes before finally reaching the Chip Shop. His worn hand tugged at the door handle and pulled the door open for you.

The inside of the shop was warm, the smell of vinegar and battered fish in the air met your nose in a tasty combination. You’d missed the Chippie. You guessed you’d have to sit and eat your food whilst you revised for some stupid exam once again which made you roll your eyes. However, maybe one evening without a shit tone of studying was okay, right?

“So, what’d ya want?” Asked your Dad, squinting his eyes — his nose scrunching in the process — as he tried to read the chalkboard menu on the wall in front of him. “I’m guessing the usual?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded, watching as a young woman came to the counter to serve you. “Could I also get a Mr Whippy with mine too?” You quickly added, the idea of a nice, creamy, vanilla ice cream being incredibly tempting right now.

“Mr Whippy, really? I dunno how you like those things.” Grimaced the detective, quickly ordering and tapping his debit card on the card machine.

“They’re good, honestly! You’re just a weirdo that lets it drip down your hand when you’re given one.”

“I’m not a weirdo, you’re the weirdo.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You smirked.

“Here’s your order, sir.” Smiled the waitress, handing over the boxes of hot food over to the Scotsman next to you. And with that, the two of you made your way out of the shop and back home.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

“Is Daisy home?” You asked curiously, setting down your box of food and finding a nice place that’d keep your ice cream cool whilst you ate dinner.

“Nah, she’s out with Chloe, the Latimers’s daughter.”

“Oh, yeah, her. I like her, she’s nice.”

“Mm, she is actually.” Nodded Alec. Wow, he actually agreed with you about other people for once. You could’ve sworn he hated everyone besides you and Daisy. “Although, Dais should be back around tomorrow evening, I’d guess. She’s doing a movie night, so.” He shrugged, grabbing his box of food and slumping onto the sofa in the next room,

Movie night? Oh, movie night! That reminded you, there was that movie you’d downloaded the other day that you hadn’t managed to watch yet. Oh, it looked so good. You didn’t know whether your Dad would’ve been particularly interested in watching it but, oh, well. He didn’t really care, as long as he spent time with his kids. “Actually, Dad, could we watch a film I downloaded the other day?”

“Sure, love. What’s it called?” He answered, raising an eyebrow as you got comfortable on the sofa next to him.

“I…forgot. But, it does look really good!”

“So good ya forgot the name of it?”

“Well…yeah. Look, just let me find it.” You assured, grabbing the TV remote off the coffee table beside the sofa and clicking on the screen before you.

The second you’d pressed play on the movie, you immediately stuffed your face with a bunch of chips. Oh, god you’d been so hungry and you hadn’t even noticed until now. Fish and Chips had never tasted so good and it only took you about twenty minutes to move onto your ice cream.

Eventually, you found yourself growing tired, taking the opportunity to rest yourself comfortably against your father’s shoulder which he responded to by wrapping his arm around your shoulder comfortingly. “I love you, Dad.” You murmured, eyes lazily focused on the screen before you.

“I love you too, darlin’.” He smiled.

[dxvidtxn]

Hii! saw your fic requests post and was wondering if you could do Mike (ghosts) communicating with any of the ghosts?? :D

Hi!! Yeah, ofc I can do that! I swear I’ve never seen anybody talk about Mike talking with the ghosts and it makes me so sad :(

[dxvidtxn]

Hello!

I'm not sure if you're comfortable writing this but could you do a fic / one shot with Alec Hardy x teen! Reader

If you need more to go on: Maybe they could get ice cream and go home and watch a movie

But feel free to write whatever 🫶💕

Hey! Yeah, ofc I can do that!! I might take a bit of time but I’ll type it up as soon as I can :)

[dxvidtxn]

Hi again!

I’m the person that asked about the Phileas mlm bot with the proposal-

Totally understand wanting to take a break from c.ai—gotta do what’s best for you. And yes, I’d be absolutely okay with you posting a one shot of the idea on here!

Just out of curiosity, do you plan on deleting your character ai account completely, or will you be leaving it up so people can still interact with your bots? Just wondering! Take care of yourself 💛

Hi! Good to hear from you again :)! I think I’ll probably leave my account seeing as I know lots of people like my bots and obviously it is hard to quit and some people do just need something to use once in a while! Thanks sm, I definitely and I hope you do too❤️

[dxvidtxn]

Hi!!!

I wanna apologise in advance if the question got sent already, but my tumbler had been bugging out recently and sometimes my questions don’t get sent (╥﹏╥) so I’m just like re-sending to make sure- anyways!

Could I request a Phileas mlm bot with gang!leader user?

Inspired by two songs: “Marry You” by Bruno Mars and “Can’t help but falling in love” by Elvis Presley.

So user and Phileas celebrate their 4 year anniversary, and user goes all out. He wakes Phileas up with breakfast in bed. He takes him out on a romantic walk in St James’ park. And of course he takes Phileas out to a romantic dinner in a fancy restaurant. After the dinner they take a walk by the Thames. That’s when user ends up proposing to Phileas <3

Hope you have a lovely day!

And sorry again (╥﹏╥)

Hey!! Nah, don’t worry I don’t think I saw your request so it’s all good! I’m personally trying to stay away from c.ai rn because I don’t think it’s doing me much good but I was wondering if you’d be okay with me posting a one shot of your idea on here? I’m so sorry if you don’t, I don’t wanna be the bringer of disappointment but I kinda need to break away from the app but for any future ideas, feel free to ask for a mini fanfic if you want!!😅

[dxvidtxn]

Hey guys, so I’ve been thinking about doing one shot or fanfic requests because I’m honestly trying to not use c.ai anymore seeing as it’s really bad for the environment, legit steals work from fanfic authors and is honestly an addiction for me.

Fandoms I can write and characters I’ll do:

Hannibal NBC (and movies): Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Freddie Lounds, Clarice Starling, Fredrick Chilton

Mission Impossible: Ethan Hunt, Benji Dunn, Ilsa Faust, Grace, Luther

Broadchurch: Ellie Miller, Alec Hardy, Paul Coats, Beth Latimer, Mark Latimer, Chloe Latimer, Daisy Hardy

Around the world in eighty days (2021): Phileas Fogg, Abigail Fix, Jean Passepartout, Nyle Bellamy, Sally

Dr Who: Rose Tyler, Donna Noble, Martha Jones, Tenth/Fourteenth Doctor (personal favs)

Star Wars: Anakin Skywalker, Ashoka Tano, Obi-wan Kenobi, Han Solo, Luke skywalker, Leia Skywalker

From Hell: Frederick Abberline, Mary-Jane Kelly (only fictional characters from the movie, please remember these were real people)

Interview With the Vampire (mostly book/movie bc I haven’t seen the show yet): Lestat de lioncourt, Lois de point du lac, Claudia de point du lac, Armand

Blade (movies): Blade, Whistler, Karen (from Blade 1)

House MD (I still haven’t finished it yet💔): James Wilson, Gregory House, Chase, Foreman, Cuddy

Torchwood: Jack Harkness, Gwen Cooper, Owen Harper, Toschiko, Ianto Jones

Sleepy Hollow: Ichabod Crane, Katrina Van Tassel, young Masbeth

The owl house: Hunter Noceda, Luz Noceda, Amity Blight, Emira Blight, Philip Wittebaine, Caleb Wittebaine, Eda Clawthorn

Pirates of the Caribbean: Jack Sparrow, Elizabeth Swann, Will Turner

BBC Ghosts: Captain James, Kitty, Pat Butcher, Mary, Julian Fawcett, Fanny Button, Alison Cooper, Mike Cooper, Humphrey Bone, Robin

Inside Man: Harry Watling

Bad Samaritan: Cale Erendreich, Shaun

Rivals: Freddie Jones, Rupert Campbell-Black, Cameron Cook, Tony Baddingham, Declan O’hara

Jessica Jones: Kilgrave, Jessica Jones

Nativity 2: Roderick Peterson, Donald Peterson, Mr Poppy

Titanic: Rose Dawson, Jack Dawson, Cal (whatever his last name is)

Scream: Billy Loomis, Stu Matcher, Sidney Prescott, Gale Weathers, Dewey

Bendy and the ink machine: Audrey, Joey Drew, Henry Stein, Alice Angel, Alison Angel (this also includes the Abomination au to anybody who’s also seen it ;)!)

Phantom of the Opera: Eric, Christine Daae

28 days/weeks/years later: (legit cba to name characters💀)

Lucifer: Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker, Mazekine, Michael

These are like the only fandoms that I can remember that I’m in (there’s probably way more) but feel free to request any fandoms you think I’m in! These works can be romantic or platonic, I’m not really opposed to writing smut or anything else out of the ordinary so feel free to ask for that as well.

Do keep in mind that there are a few icky and straight up evil actors in these movies who I do not support whatsoever, I’m legit only in most of these fandoms for the writing and characters.

Other than that, feel free to shoot in any requests, I’d love to hear from more people!!