#(cute timers for writing/replying sprints

[guqin-and-flute]

OKAY. I have been doing some really good blocks of writing over the past few weeks--like several sessions with ~2000 words. Unfortunately, a lot of it has been skipping around on different fics (I'm trying to be better about unhealthy sleep habits, so I'm not writing in huge, hyperfixated chunks. Or trying not to 😬).

So, if you would like, feel free to poke, request, remind so it stays on my conscious mind! Do not feel obligated, this is only if you feel the urge, it will get done either way!

[ourlittleforever]

playtime

millie x thr.awn + thalassa

just wanted to write some cute fankid fluff :) there's just a touch of angst at the end but nothing too serious or heavy.

“And I putted it on top,” Thalassa explained, standing beside her block tower. “See? The princess is on top.”

“You put it on top. I do see,” Thr.awn replied. He sat beside the block tower and listened to Thalassa with a serious expression. “Why is she on top of the tower?”

“Because she’s a princess. And a princess has to…” Thalassa scratched her nose as she formulated her next sentence. “A princess has to look at everyone.”

“She must be very responsible.”

“Ress-ponss-ibbul,” the little girl repeated. “What’s that?”

Thr.awn considered how best to explain duty and integrity to a three-year-old. “It means she cares for the people she looks after.”

“Like you?”

He smiled gently. “Like me.”

Thalassa handed him another one of her dolls – a set of dress-up dolls from Csilla, a gift from her uncle Eli – and began to explain the next bit of the game. “Okay, Papa, you’re gonna be a bad guy. And you’re gonna, gonna… gonna knock down the tower!”

Thr.awn examined the doll, a male figure in what Millie assumed to be formal wear of some kind. “Why is he bad?”

“He wantsa knock down the tower,” Thalassa said, furrowing her brows, as if she were the adult explaining the concept to a three-year-old and not the other way around. “His name is Mister, and he’s a bad guy.”

Millie smiled as they watched from the kitchen as their daughter and husband played. Thalassa didn’t give her dolls very normal names – Mister, Woman, and Elbow were their favorite examples. Thr.awn had attempted to suggest traditional Chiss names for the dolls, but Thalassa could hardly say her own full name, so Millie gently shot it down.

He was so sweet and earnest with children, as if still a child himself, in some regard. Yet it had been years since Thrawn had been this close with a girl as young as Thalassa. He was still trying to feel out how he should interact with her. In Millie’s opinion, it was adorable.

“I see.” Thr.awn set Mister’s feet on the ground and made him hop forward. “I am Mister, Destroyer of Towers.”

“Oh! No!” Thalassa shouted. “You can’t do that! That’s not nice!”

In a deep, comically evil-sounding voice, Thr.awn said, “I am not nice.”

Millie had to step away as the timer sounded, signifying their cookies were done. They arranged three plates for lunch time: a nut-paste and jelly sandwich, celery with dressing, and of course, two cookies for dessert. Millie finished the meal with a glass of apple juice for them and Thalassa, and water for Thr.awn. “It’s lunchtime, you two!”

Thalassa squealed in excitement, sprinting into the kitchen. “Don’t run in the kitchen, Lassie,” Millie reminded them. “You can get hurt in here if you run.”

“Sorry, Mama.”

“It’s alright. Just remember it for next time.” They helped her into her booster seat, and set her plate in front of her. “Go ahead and start eating.”

Thalassa had just started to tear apart her sandwich when Thr.awn sat down at the table. The Chiss man wiped a bit of nut-paste off her chin with a napkin, then turned his attention to his own meal. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t feel like anything too fancy today.”

“It’s made by you. It’s wonderful,” Thr.awn said.

Millie touched his hand, smiling to themself at his warmth. The scene was pure, domestic bliss: just them, their husband, and their beautiful little girl. The family was staying at an apartment on Coruscant as the Chimaera underwent repairs. Within a week, they’d be back on the Star Destroyer. It made Millie feel a bit guilty, hating that damn ship. Oh, well, they mused. That was part of marrying a military man. And though he wasn’t home during the day while onboard, at night, Thr.awn was just as doting of a father as he was now.

Thalassa yawned, her nose wrinkling. “I think you should lay down for a nap after lunch,” Millie said. They glanced at Thr.awn, and added, “Mama and Papa might need one, too.”

“M’kay. Can we play more dolls after? Please? You too, Mama?”

“Of course, little one.” Thr.awn leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Are you done eating?” When she nodded, he stood up. “Let’s go get dressed in your jammies and lay down. Millie, love, I’ll be back in a moment.”

“If I’m not in here, I’ll be in bed.”

After putting away the trash and dishes, Millie made the bed. They were fluffing the pillows when the door opened, and then two broad arms wrapped around their waist. “Sorry it took a bit. Thalassa insisted on unbuttoning her shirt herself.” They could hear a hint of anxiety in his voice, and they smiled gently as they turned to him.

“You’re feeling inadequate again, aren’t you?”

Thr.awn sighed. “I can never hide anything from you, love.”

“Let me assure you that you’re doing just fine. It makes me so happy, seeing you play with her like that. And it’s good for her. Not only as she grows as a person, but because she gets to spend time with her Papa.” Millie laid a hand over his heart. “She loves you so much, Thr.awn. And when she’s older, she’ll remember these moments of you trying so hard and doing your best, and she’ll love you even more.”

The corners of his lips tugged into a little smile. “Thank you.”

“Now, c’mon. You’re wasting valuable nap time. She’ll be awake and energetic before we’ve even laid down.”

Thr.awn yawned as he gestured to the bed. “After you, euhn in’a.”

[solangelover]

"Look Both Ways First, Kids!”

Submission Prompt: Hello…I just thought of this prompt and love the way you write. Will is an elementary school teacher as a side job and his classroom habits slip out while talking to Nico and the others. Like when they go out in a group, Will is like: ‘Okay now everyone hold your buddy’s hand.’

A/N: I’m going to tweak the prompt a bit since like, elementary school teacher is not a side job LOL. So now we have a mortal AU with teacher!Will, grad student!Nico (not that it matters), and they’re hanging a mix of friends (I always do Cecil and Lou Ellen so I’ll try to mix it up more haha). (YO I’VE HAD HALF OF THIS WRITTEN FOR AT LEAST A YEAR SORRY)

 Read on AO3 or FF.Net

“Bye, Mr. Solace!”

Will enthusiastically waved goodbye, his last student filing out of his classroom. Man, second graders were really just adorable. Also, very messy. Will turned his gaze upon the desks covered in glitter and paper scraps and sighed. Nico did tell him that this particular art project was a bad idea, but how else was Will going to teach the kids about the states in the US if they couldn’t cut them out and color them?

Will began the arduous process of cleaning up, humming lightly to himself. He had to actually get his gum scraper (yes, he always had it on hand even if gum was not allowed in school) to get glue off the desks. After vacuuming as much glitter out of the carpet as possible, Will dusted himself off and headed to a faculty meeting.

He came back to his room to find his boyfriend wiping down his desks. He let out a noise of surprise, startling slightly in the middle of the doorway. Nico looked up, a slow smile spreading across his face as he stood up from where he was leaning over a desk.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he greeted. “I see you went ahead with the glitter.”

Will rolled his eyes but didn’t respond to the jab, electing to walk over and throw his arms around the dark-haired man. “What are you doing here?”

Will leaned back to see Nico’s face as he started speaking. “We’re going out, aren’t we?”

“It’s like 4:00! Isn’t it kind of early?” Will untangled himself from his boyfriend after giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

Nico shrugged. “Jason said I should just get you from school. You know how he’s like an old man now and he sleeps early.” They both laughed in agreement. Jason got some government job out of college that fit his regiment of rising early and hitting the ground running. While he used to be able to hang with everyone late into the night, starting his career flipped his “adult switch” and he became “less fun,” in Leo’s words. Piper doesn’t mind much since Jason’s routine has helped steady her often turbulent schedule. She had started a small fashion company in college that really took off in the past year, meaning she had meeting after meeting with various people and often had no consistency between her workdays. Jason and Piper’s daily lives were drastically different, but they did good to balance each other out and keep each other grounded.

“Did Leo say he was coming?” Will asked as he began putting things away and shutting his windows.

“Yeah, I think so. And he’s bringing Calypso too.” Leo’s small mechanic shop had a few loyal customers, which was enough to make Leo content with his life. Then, as he tells it, a beautiful goddess waltzed into his garage covered in grease and dirt smudges, claiming to have broken down nearby and was in need of help. Leo said she gave him a decent rundown of what she found wrong with her car and was ecstatic to find that she was spot on. He was in love and, while it took a bit of charming and annoying, Leo convinced her to go out with him a few months ago.

“Oh, that’s good! I like her,” Will replied enthusiastically.

“I can’t believe she puts up with him,” Nico said in a flat voice.

“Don’t be so mean, Neeks,” the blonde said as they made their way out the door. “They’re good together and you know it. Besides, she teases Leo just as much as he does to everyone—“

“Probably why he’s whipped,” Nico cut in.

“Oh my gosh,” Will rolled his eyes as he grabbed Nico’s hand, swinging it between them.

They continued to talk and joke as they got into the car and drove downtown, where they were meeting their friends for dinner.

Once they parked and were getting out of the car, they heard a shout behind them. “Looks like the love birds finally made it!”

Nico rolled his eyes and replied without even turning around. “Don’t even talk, Pipes. You know you’re the queen of sappy romance.” Will could see the smirk on his boyfriend’s face as he rounded the car to stand next to him.

They turned in time to see the Piper’s offended expression as she strode up to them. “Excuse me,” she scoffed. “How dare you make such an accusation against me when we all know Jason is the mushiest one and he’s standing right here.”

The aforementioned blonde only sighed exasperatedly, knowing he never wins this argument. Then, a shameless grin grew on his face as he snaked his arm around his girlfriend’s waist, tugging her toward him. He shoved his nose in her face and crooned, “And don’t you forget it.”

“Woah, Jason, where’s my loving embrace?” an indignant voice cried out to their right. Will turned to see Leo walking hand-in-hand with a beautiful girl, her caramel-colored hair blowing back lightly in the breeze. Her cheeks were tinted pink as she giggled, watching her ridiculous boyfriend ramble on about being Jason’s first love and how no one cared about him around here.

Jason, ever the gentleman, immediately turned to Calypso to introduce himself, prompting everyone else to do the same.

“Leo’s told us a lot about you,” Will said politely. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

“I’m glad to be here,” she said good-naturedly. “Leo’s told me many stories about you all, though I feel like they were a bit… embellished. I know for a fact that he isn’t a smooth, suave hero at all times.” She shot Leo a look that caused his cheeks to darken, even as he placed a hand on his chest in mock exaggeration. Nico was right—he was whipped.

“Oh, don’t worry. We have an endless list of embarrassing things Leo has done. We’ll fill in the gaps he probably left out,” Nico cut in. In all honesty, getting back at Leo for anything and everything he’s ever done to him was probably what he had looked forward to most about this dinner. Will couldn’t hold him back if he tried.

Before things could escalate any further, Will gestured toward the road. “Let’s head toward the restaurant before we spend the whole evening insulting each other in a parking lot. I like to have food with my entertainment.” He winked at Calypso, who laughed as she nodded in agreement.

The group mingled together, conversing loudly as they made their way toward the edge of the lot. Nico had clearly considered jaywalking across the street to the restaurant, but one stern look from his boyfriend had him pivoting to the nearest crosswalk.

Will pressed the crossing button and turned toward the group as they waited. They all continued chatting, not really paying attention to where they were going. He glanced at the crossing sign, hoping everyone could at least look forward when they stepped into the street.

When the sign lit up and his friends hadn’t moved, he spoke up on instinct. “Everyone, grab your buddy’s hand; we’re crossing the street!”

The chatter stopped, and Will blinked as all eyes stared back at him. “Um…” He glanced again at the sign, which was now counting down their seconds. Technically, you weren’t supposed to enter the road at this point, but the timer was still high. However, none of his friends seemed poised to move, so maybe he’d have to hold them back before they ended up sprinting across the street. “Are we—?”

A loud snort to his right cut him off. Will turned his head to see Nico doubled over in laughter. “You—” he tried to start, but he couldn’t hold his laughter in long enough to even form two words.

Soon enough, the others started laughing too—Leo and Piper, rather loudly, and Jason and Calypso, a bit more politely, the latter holding a hand over her mouth as her shoulders shook. Will continued to look confused, part of his mind still preoccupied with the light they were missing.

He replayed the last few minutes in his head, then promptly turned red as he groaned. His friends only laughed harder when he buried his head in his hands.

“I just want to cross the street,” he lamented through his fingers.

“But, Mr. Will,” Leo exclaimed. “You forgot to tell us to look both ways first!” He had tears gathering in the corners of his eyes from how much he was laughing. Honestly, Will thought they were all overreacting.

“Oh, come on! It wasn’t even that funny!” he cried.

“Will,” Jason started, in a consoling tone that the teacher did not think was warranted in this situation. “You didn’t hear it like we did.”

“You used your teacher voice!” Nico finally caught his breath enough to speak, though Will kind of wishes he hadn’t. “It was all high and cheery and—” He wiggled his fingers in an effort to express Will’s tone.

The blonde man turned back to see the light had changed, the red hand now mocking him and preventing him from leaving this conversation.

“You’re a teacher?” Will found Calypso looking at him with genuine curiosity in her eyes as the other four calmed down from their fits of laughter.

“Yes,” he sighed heavily. “And we had a field trip the other day. And I came straight from the classroom today.” He gazed at the others around him. “I guess I forgot I wasn’t dealing with second graders.”

Calypso carried on over the noises of indignation from the others. “Aw, second graders, how cute! Tell me about it!” Bless her, this saint of a woman, engaging in conversation and pushing Will’s slip-up away. It was a kind gesture and Will ran with it.

He quite literally turned his back on the others as he described what his day of geography and glitter was like to the woman.

In the next minute, when the light changed and the crossing sign lit up once more, he felt a hand slip into his. Nico was staring up at him, a grin on his face. “I call you as my crossing buddy.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah.” He looked to his other side to see the other couples also holding hands and smiling at him. The teacher rolled his eyes again and, before he stepped off the curb, brightly called out, “Look both ways first, kids!”

[givemetherapyimawritingtravesty]

Apple Picking - SW Coops Fluff

So I have so many WIPs that are slow going, but here’s a short one. The cuteness that follows came to me when the SW/C2C Discord was chatting about the boys going apple picking and I had to write this. I kinda wanna make this another short mini series? I have a cute idea based on those last few lines... it could be funny? Anyways... As always this amazing universe is the brain child of @lumosinlove, a queen. Enjoy!

“Come on!” Jules whines, Sirius and Remus in tow as he runs ahead down a long row of Honeycrisp apple trees. “These ones are my favorite. Mom makes the best pies out of ‘em. We gotta get enough for her so she can send one home with you guys. They’re sooooo good, Sirius. You’ll see.”

“I’m sure I will.” Sirius chuckles, hand in hand with Remus and looking straight into his eyes.

Remus laughs, “Oh, he’s not wrong. Mom makes the best apple pies. Come on, we better catch up before we lose him.”

“Race you,” Sirius says as he drops Remus’ hand and sprints towards Jules a few yards ahead.

Remus just chuckles and calls after him, “You win.” He looks down at the empty bucket in his hands and smiles. How did he get there? How did he get so lucky to be this happy? He can’t believe it all. He also can’t believe the scene he walks up to: Sirius has grabbed Jules around the waist to hoist him up to reach a high branch.

“These are where the best apples are. Really high up,” Jules rambles on to Sirius, who is sporting a dopey smile. Remus walks over and holds up the bucket so Jules can start filling it. 

Sirius sets Jules down for a moment to walk to the next tree, “Why don’t you pick some, Mon Loup?” he asks.

“I’ve picked plenty. I picked you.” He stares right into Sirius’ eyes, who then wraps his arms around Remus’ waist and pulls him in for a chaste kiss in the cool evening breeze.

After wandering down the row and Sirius ending up just letting Jules sit on his shoulders, a half hour flies by.

“I think that’s enough, the pale is pretty full, don’t you think Re?” Jules asks.

“Yeah, I’d say so. Let’s head back, the sun’s starting to set.” Remus replies as Sirius sets Julian down, who immediately takes off running to the front of the orchard.

“Race you, slow pokes!” He shouts behind him.

The two older boys just share a smile as Sirius reaches for the bucket from Remus, “Here, let me take that. I’m sure your tired of holding it.”

“What? No, you carried Jules the whole time, you must tired.” He laughs as Sirius takes it from him anyway.

“Non, it’s fine. Here, you could carry this, though?” He holds out his empty right hand, “It’s a bit heavy.”

Remus laughs and takes his boyfriend’s hand in his, bringing it up to his face for a sweet kiss before dropping their hands to his side, swinging them a little as they walk. Sirius leans over to place a kiss on Remus’ check as they reach the front of the orchard where Jules waits propped on the fence.

“Ew. Come on, let’s get these home to mom so she can bake! Then we can have apple pie for dessert, and it’ll be so good, and I can help her bake it. And Sirius, she can show you how to bake, too! It’s gonna be so much fun.” Jules rambles on.

“Only if Re helps too.” He replies.

“Oh, no. No. I will not be partaking in the baking. Nope.”

“Come on, Remus! We won’t let you burn it this time, we’ll set the timer and everything.” Jules argues.

“Now this sounds like a story.” Sirius chuckles. Remus swats his arm.

[etoileholland]

cooking fiasco

Pairing: Peter Parker x female reader

Summary: after a failed attempt at cooking your anniversary dinner, May and Pepper step in to save the day

Warnings: none, it’s just fluff

Word count: 2k

A/N: I’m still trying to be more active on here lol, but requests are still open! Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future posts, and also the gif is not mine, all credit goes to its respective owner

“May, should I make the fettuccine sauce from scratch or should I just buy a can of Ragú instead?” Peter asked as he perused the aisles of the small grocery store. He had already picked Fusilli noodles (to which he believed were better than long fettuccine noodles because they were twisty) and was still deciding on the brand of sauce. 

“Oh honey, Bertolli is better anyway, it tastes more homemade.” She replied. “And it sticks better to the noodles.” 

Peter nodded and placed the can into the basket. Along with the dinner ingredients, he was also picking out ingredients for the dessert he had planned, which was chocolate lava cakes. He found the recipe on Pinterest and decided that it seemed easy enough to do, even though this boy doesn’t have one ounce of baking skills in him. Here’s hoping it’ll go well. 

The reason for all this, you may ask, is quite simple- it was yours and Peter’s one year anniversary. He couldn’t believe that it’s already been one year since he asked you out in one of the most unique ways. 

He had tried to say the words out loud, but when he would speak, nothing came out of his mouth. His hands would get shaky and his heart seemed that it would beat out of his chest, but he was determined to ask you out. So, one day when you were over at this place studying, Peter got the bright idea to write the words “will you be my girlfriend?” on an etch-a-sketch. While you were grabbing some snacks in the kitchen, he quickly wrote out the words and left the toy on top of your open textbook. When you came in and saw it sitting there, you eagerly wrote back “yes”. He was so happy about it that he picked it up but forgot that when he did so, the writing disappeared. 

“You cute idiot.” You stated, and the both of you broke out into a fit of laughter. From that moment, Peter knew that he would do anything to hear that giggle more often. 

Coming out of his daydream, he quickly finished grabbing the ingredients he needed and told May that he was ready to go. 

He decided that it was best to purchase the ingredients the day of your anniversary so that they would be the freshest, and therefore taste the best. Since he wasn’t a prolific cook; he wanted to make sure he had plenty of time to prepare, so he enlisted the help of Pepper to help him make the food. 

He had about 5 hours to make the food, how bad could it go?

Very bad, apparently. 

—

“Peter Benjamin Parker, I told you to watch the pasta so that it wouldn’t overflow everywhere! And why didn’t you put a timer on the oven like I told you to? The lava cakes are literally on fire.” Pepper exclaimed as she stood in the empty kitchen while Peter was upstairs getting ready for tonight. She quickly pulled the fire extinguisher off the wall and opened the oven door, grabbing the tin with oven mitts and quickly extinguishing the small fire. 

Sure adds a whole new meaning to lava cakes, now doesn’t it? He thought to himself, which made him laugh.

“Why didn’t you watch over it?” Pepper shouted.

“You said you had it!” He shouted back but was interrupted by the shrill of the smoke alarm. 

Pepper let out a word of profanity and replied, “No! I didn’t say that. I asked you to watch it while I had to take an important business call.” She groaned and tossed the pan into the sink. The water splashed everywhere, including on herself, and she let out a shriek. “I had asked you to do one thing Parker, one thing!” 

Peter leaned up against his closet and let out a long sigh. “Well, so much for dinner.” He muttered under his breath. He was trying so hard to impress you, but instead he had ultimately ruined it by stepping out of the kitchen. She was right though; she had asked him to tend to the dinner but he figured that nothing bad would happen if he left it unattended for a few minutes. Oh, how wrong he was.  

“What are we going to do now?” Pepper exclaimed from the bottom of the staircase. “I could call Happy, maybe he would know what to do?” 

Peter paused for a second and then replied, “Wait, I have an idea.” 

“Oh lord.” Pepper sighed. 

He sprinted down the stairs and nearly knocked into Pepper sitting on the bottom steps, her index finger massaging her temple. 

“I promise it’s a good idea.” He stated breathlessly.

“Tell me then.” 

“Alright, so instead of me making her dinner, what if we ordered from that fancy restaurant that you and Mr. Stark always go to on your anniversary, and I’ll just say that I made it instead?” 

She shot him a dumbfounded look. “Peter, honey, we both know you don’t know how to make filet mignon with caviar and coated with a truffle sauce on top.” 

“Hm, you’re right.” He sat down next to Pepper on the second to last step on the stairs, slumping his shoulders forward and putting his face in his hands. “I’ve ruined the whole night. I tried to do something nice and I ended up ruining it.” 

Pepper placed her hand softly on Peter’s back and gently rubbed circles on it. “Love, it’s so sweet of you to want to do something nice, and I know that she would’ve appreciated it, but maybe it just wasn’t meant to work out, hm?” 

“What do you mean?” Peter questioned. 

Pepper paused for a second as if she was thinking of the right words to say, before she ultimately spoke. “Well, maybe you both would’ve been sitting on the rooftop, having the time of your lives, when one of the many villains you’ve fought off sees you sitting there and then ruins your night by attacking you and kidnapping her.” 

Peter scoffed and guffawed, and said, “Oh yeah, I’m sure that would definitely happen.” 

“But you never know, you’ve experienced weirder situations. It wouldn’t be totally improbable though.” She answered softly and Peter noticed that she spoke to him in the same maternal voice that she often uses when she talks to Morgan. It was comforting to him, and somehow made him feel a bit better about the cooking fiasco. 

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe something bad would’ve happened and this is just the universe’s way of stopping that.” 

“Exactly. Life works in mysterious ways, little man. Usually for the better, or at least that’s what I tell myself.” She kissed the top of his forehead and stood up, holding out her hand for Peter to grab. “The night is still young, so you get ready and I’ll think of something in the meantime.” Pepper ruffled Peter’s hair and gently pushed him towards the staircase. “Now go.” 

“Thank you Pep, I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“I know.” She whispered back to herself and watched Peter run up the stairs.

—

Peter came down from his room about 30 minutes later, phone in hand. Pepper and May were sitting on the couch talking to each other, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. They both looked up to see Peter walking towards them with a frown on his face.”  

“What’s wrong honey?” May asked. 

“Y/N cancelled on me, she said that something came up so we wouldn’t be able to spend our anniversary together.” He walked over to the couch and plunked himself down on it dramatically. “I was looking forward to seeing her.” 

“I know love, is she alright?” Pepper asked and Peter nodded his head. 

“Yeah, she said it was a family situation that she doesn’t want to talk about. I’m not sure why though, she always tells me everything. Maybe I’ll go see her.” He tried to get up but May tugged at his arm and pulled him back down onto the couch. 

“No,” she replied hesitantly, “you don’t want to do that.” She glanced over at Pepper who gave her a confused look back. “She’s asking for some privacy right now Pete, let’s respect that. And you know she’ll tell you when she’s ready to; you just have to be a little bit patient.” 

“Mmhmm.” Peter replied. After a minute of silence, Pepper spoke up.

“I know!” Pepper exclaimed a little too loudly. “Let’s do something instead, just the two of us.” 

“Like?” Peter asked hesitantly. 

“Well,” she paused for a minute to think, “I was thinking that you would want to come with me to, um, Pottery Barn to pick out some things to decorate my guest bathroom with.” 

“Sounds like a ton of fun.” He retorted sarcastically while he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Well we’ll just have to make it fun then. Besides, it just may get you out of your funk, and if you come with me I’ll treat you to a pretzel from the mall. I know how much you love those.” She grinned, but Peter didn’t smile back. “Please darling, for me?” She gave him her best pout and Peter sighed.

“Fine” 

“Good, let’s go.” Pepper stood up from the couch and grabbed her purse. While she did that, she and May exchanged a knowing glance and tried to conceal their smiles. 

“Okay, what are you hiding?” He asked and quickly the women both replied, “Nothing!” 

“Right, let’s go then.” Peter replied unconvincingly. He waited by the door for Pepper to grab her things and together they went out to run that errand. 

—

A few hours later, Pepper had dropped Peter off in front of his apartment. 

“Thank you again Pep.” Peter stated as he got out of the car and waved to her from the curb.

“You’re welcome love, thank you for the help.” She waved back and quickly drove off. 

Peter walked to the door of his apartment and unlocked it. He stepped in and gasped when he saw that there was a pillow fort in the middle of the living room. The smell of garlic wafted through the air, and he heard music playing softly in the kitchen and a giggle that he could recognize anywhere-yours. 

“Hey Peter.” You ran out of the kitchen and threw your arms around his neck and lightly kissed his lips. “Happy anniversary darling.” 

“What’s all this?” Peter asked and May stepped out of the kitchen holding a tea towel. 

“May texted me after your, um, incident and told me what you had planned. Even though it didn’t work out, the gesture was super sweet and so we thought we would surprise you with dinner and a movie.” 

You pulled away and motioned to the fort and towards the kitchen. “Really though, it was all May’s idea, so you should really thank her.” 

“Wow, thank you May.” Peter said as he pulled you close to him and placed his hands on the small of your back. 

“Welcome angel, but it was also Y/N who helped come up with what to eat and came up with the fort idea.” 

“Thank you Y/N.” He kissed your cheek and pulled you even closer to him. “I thought you had a family emergency though.” 

You shook your head no before answering, “Nope, that was just a way to get you out of the house without you wanting to come over to see me, so that I could sneak by and help plan all this. Pepper didn’t really need your help picking out shower curtains, you know.” 

“I kinda figured when I pointed to one and she would answer, ““Honey are you blind? You know that fabric wouldn’t go well with the marble floors.”” He laughed and playfully rolled his eyes. “Remind me not to go into interior design.” 

“Noted. Now come on, let’s eat and afterwards we can watch a movie in the fort.” You leaned forward to kiss his lips lightly and you felt him smile into the kiss.

“Sounds perfect, what are we eating for dinner?” 

“Fettuccine and garlic bread.” You beamed and let out a mischievous giggle. 

“Oh god, anything but that.” Peter laughed and playfully sighed, all while you grabbed his hand and dragged him into the kitchen. 

— —

mes anges (taglist) @sunflowerhollands​ @scarletxwidow​ @fangirlwithasweettooth​ @taciturnspidey​ @musicalkeys​ @harrysleftchelseaboot​ @quaksonhehe​

[kyber-crystal]

➳ there and back again || s.r.

summary: it’s just a nice little competition to declare who comes out on top as the victor. what could possibly go wrong?

words: ~1.5k

warnings: a chaotic stevey/nsam trio. that’s it haha

a/n: trying a new layout! hope you guys like it teehee. this is an old oneshot so i apologize it’s poorly written. 

tags: @sunstalgia​ @wxstedhexrt​ @purpleskiesstorm​ @sylvie-writes​ hopefully this won’t flop if i tag a few mutuals teehee

"You boys ready to get your asses beat?" you teased as you tied your shoelaces.

"Don't get your hopes up, sweetheart," Steve warned. "I hate to brag, but I'm going to win."

Sam groaned. "I don't know why I agreed to this. Y'all are both fast as hell. Last time I got so winded trying to catch up with you."

"Winner gets twenty from the losers!" you quickly shouted, and both of your friends' faces lit up. "And also, bragging rights and glory."

"I swear, you people act more like 13 year-olds than 30-something year olds," Pietro commented as he leaned against the fridge, sipping an iced latte. "You making bets over who's gonna beat the other in a race?"

"Yup," you all replied in unison.

"Well then, see ya," he nodded, as you headed out the door.

"Alright," you breathed out, setting your hands on your hips as you surveyed your landscape. "So around Central Park, checkpoint at Cherry Hill."

"Got it," Steve nodded.

You tapped your wristwatch a few times, setting a timer. "Okay. On your marks. Get set. Go!"

You quickly broke into a sprint, feet pounding against the dewy pavement as you pumped your arms and legs as fast as you could go. You refused to look back, knowing that by doing so you'd be slowed down and fall behind both of them.

The scorching August heat was relentlessly beating down on your back, sweat rolling down your temples and causing your tank top and leggings to cling tightly to your skin. You kept going, though, despite your body screaming at you to stop.

Several minutes later you were not far behind Steve, with Sam only a few yards ahead of him as well. He didn't seem the least bit exhausted as he made a sharp turn and continued sprinting down the sidewalk, and if it hadn't been for your excessive training you would've given up within the first five minutes of starting.

"On your left," he said as he sprinted ahead of Sam.

"On your right!" you shouted as you zipped past both of them.

"Damn it!" you heard Sam let out a frustrated yell as he picked up the pace. “To think I was the top of my class in PE...”

"On your left," Steve informed him a few minutes later.

Then again. "On your left."

"Uh huh, on my left. Got it."

You were nowhere in sight at this point, and as Sam was still jogging Steve came around again from behind, starting from a new lap.

"Don't say it! Don't you say it!"

"On your left!"

"Come on!" he groaned. "Why don't you try targeting Y/N?"

Both men stopped for a moment and skidded to a halt, locking eyes with each other.

"Oh, shit."

"Language."

"Whatever. C’mon! We don't have any time to waste. If we lose, Y/N's never gonna let us live this down."

They continued on side by side while still keeping their pace, keeping close eyes and ears out for you; making sure to stay alert at all times.

"Christ, where'd she go?"

"I don't know—"

"On your right!" they heard you shout as you came bursting ahead of both of them, the wind from your speediness whipping them in their faces. "Come on, slowpokes! Last lap!"

"Are you kidding me?!" Sam yelled after you. 

Steve didn't slow down as they were chasing after you but after a bit, Sam grew frustrated and was unable to continue running, sitting down at the edge of the fountain to catch his breath.

"I win," you smirked as you took a sip out of your water bottle, wiping your mouth and letting out a satisfied sigh. "Victory sure is sweet."

"Need a medic?" the super-soldier looked over at the breathless Sam Wilson.

"I need a new set of lungs," he panted, "Dude, you guys just ran like, 13 miles in 30 minutes. Y/N, I don't even know where you went but you literally just pulled an Usain Bolt on my ass, what the hell."

"I guess I got a late start," Steve shrugged.

"Late start my ass," you snorted, crossing your arms over your chest. "Admit it, boys. I'm the champion here."

"Pfft. Why don't you go take another lap."

"Nah," you declined his offer, "I'd rather lounge around in bunny slippers while watching you do my dishes. Oh! And...you both owe me twenty."

They both took their wallets out of their back pockets, reluctantly placing twenty-dollar bills into your palm.

"Thank you," you smiled sweetly, before sliding the cash in your pocket.

"It's your beds, isn't it?"

"What?"

"Your beds, they're too soft. When I was over there I'd sleep on the ground and use rock for pillows, like a caveman. Now I'm here at the compound, lying in my bed, and it's like..."

"Lying on a marshmallow," Steve finished, "feel like I'm gonna sink right to the floor."

"Exactly."

"Also, since I won, you guys have to be my butlers for the rest of the day."

"Since when was that part of the rules?"

"It's always been part of the rules for anyone who wins anything," you defended yourself. "I'd like a piggyback ride all the way back to the subway station."

Steve just laughed and shook his head, bending his knees slightly. "Alright, alright. Get on."

"Hey, I'm just as strong as him!" Sam exclaimed. "You only want him to carry you so that you get a valid excuse to feel his muscles."

Your eyes widened at his statement, feeling a blush rise up your cheeks. "No I don't."

"Yes you do."

"Oh, shut up," you muttered, hopping onto Steve's back and wrapping your legs firmly around his torso. He hooked his arms underneath to hold you steady, as your arms went around his neck.

"Ew, you're sweaty. You smell. What happened to your blueberry and coffee cologne kind of scent? Why do you sweat so much? But I guess you wearing tight shirts make up for it, since—STEVE! Stop!" you let out a squeal as he leaned backwards slightly, your heart stopping momentarily as you came dangerously close to falling off his back. "You're gonna drop me! Stop!"

Steve let out a laugh, then proceeded to spin around and around to make you dizzy. You let out a high-pitched shriek, most likely catching the attention of a few passerby who wondered why Captain America had the normally serious Agent Y/N on his back and you were laughing like a little schoolgirl with goofy grins on both your faces.

"Say the magic words, then I'll let you down."

"I hate you."

"Wrong."

"We're no longer friends if you don't set me down right now."

"Nope."

"Steven Grant Rogers, you set me down right this instant or I'm going to beat your ass if you don't!" you threatened, kicking wildly and slapping his shoulders. "Let me down!"

"Those aren't the words," he said simply, rather amused by the frustration on your face. 

It was rather cute, if he was being honest.

"Okay, okay! I love Steve Rogers because he's the best Avenger and his muscles are like no other man here in New York! Now let me down!"

"There we go," he chuckled as he released his grip on you and you hopped off, dusting off your clothes. "See? That wasn't so hard."

"Attention-seeker," you accused, "you just wanted to do that so I'd be forced to compliment you. As good-looking as you are, I'm not putting effort into giving attention to someone who already gets so much of it every day."

"You think I'm good-looking?"

"Don't let it get to your head, Rogers," you rolled your eyes, but he could clearly see the pink tinge in your face which he knew wasn't from just running in the scorching heat. This only amused him further.

"If it makes you feel better, I think you're beautiful."

You almost choked on your own spit, going into a coughing fit and hitting your back to try and stop it.

"Don't mind me," Sam cleared his throat, "I'm just here, third wheeling. Or, chaperoning this couple who refuses to admit they're so in love with each other, if you'd like to put it that way. Oh wow, now Steve is blushing. Wow. Amazing. Y/N looks like she's going to faint. Wowwwww. What a beautiful love story. I totally don't feel left out."

"You wanna go for shawarma?" you offered. "I'm starving, and honestly, I could use the time away from Tony. He'll drag us down to play Mario Kart as soon as we get back home."

"Come on! Stop treating me as if I don't exist!"

You both looked over at Sam and laughed.

"I'm sorry," you sympathetically patted his shoulder. "It's quite the burden, dealing with Captain America on the daily."

"Damn right, now that you practically asked him out on a date and are set to become his girlfriend, I have to deal with even more excessive PDA."

"So, this is a date?" Steve raised an eyebrow at you. "Is that what this is?"

"No! It's not—" you let out a sigh of defeat, "well, if you want it to be, then...yes."

"It's a date, then," he smiled widely, kissing your cheek and sliding an arm around your waist.

"How come I never get the girls," Sam grumbled as he followed behind the two of you. "Life is so unfair."

[daredevilexchange]

Want to be featured here? Head to this page and fill in the form!

See what this is about here, or if you’re using the app here.

What’s your fannish ID? @missmoochy on tumblr and MissMoochy on A03! Mooch is the name of a monkey beanie baby my sister owns, so I thought it would be a cute username!

What types of fanworks do you create?  I write fics! I’d like to one day try my hand at fanart, but writing is my passion! I write primarily shippy stuff, but I also enjoy genfic. All ratings! These days, I tend to write MattFoggy, Spideypool and Gen. I try to do a lot of fandom challenges, bingos and stuff. They’re a great way to inspire you and help you step out of your comfort zone. 

What are your favourite types of fanworks, when you're not creating? I will happily spend hours reading the amazing fanfictions that people create. I try to review at least 90% of the fics I read, I strongly believe in showing your love to creators. I enjoy looking at fanart on Tumblr too. I think that Tumblr Likes and reblogs are important, but not enough people leave actual comments on people’s fanarts. I always try to leave a nice comment to brighten their day. A comment or review can make a creator very happy and encourage them to keep producing work. I also like looking at gifs, fandom memes, and listening to Spotify fandom playlists.

What do you like in particular about this fandom?  This fandom is so great! Everybody seems really positive and friendly (and talented). People here have given me invaluable advice on how to write the characters and have given me info about the canon. I’m firmly entrenched in the mattfoggy part of the Daredevil fandom, it feels like Matt’s got me in a headlock and I can’t escape! 

Do you like participating in fan events? Always! I don’t use Tumblr much except for browsing, but it’s a great way to discover fandom events. I’m writing fics for three bingos this year, and I’m taking part in FebuWhump. I did my first DD Exchange recently, it was so exciting and it was great seeing all the fanwork that came out of it. I’m very active on Discord, I’m in the Team Red, Mattfoggy and Spideypool discord groups, constantly chattering about Marvel.

What about your creating process? I just open up a Word doc and start typing! I never really know what’s going to happen or what direction the fic is going to take. It’s more fun for me to do it that way. I try to upload quickly because I think hesitation can lead you to become too scared to upload your fic. I like listening to music while I write, it helps keep my brain chugging away. Sometimes, I’ll have a specific artist I listen to, to unlock a particular character. I listen to The Feeling when I’m writing Netflixverse!Foggy, and Dean Martin when I’m writing Murderdock (Earth-65!Matt). I also use the Sprint function on Discord, it’s a timer that gives you a set time to write and calculates your word count afterwards. It has changed my attitude on writing, I can’t recommend it enough.

Do you interact a lot with other fans?  I do! I’m always on discord, and making new friends who like the same fandoms as me. I always try to reply to comments on my fics and that lead to me becoming good friends with one of my reviewers, which was nice. Sadly, a lot of the big writers for MattFoggy have migrated to other fandoms, but I still review their fics because it’s fantastic work that they’ve made and they deserve my thanks. I’d love to collaborate with somebody in the future to write a fic, it sounds like a cool thing to do.

Is there any particular piece you'd like to showcase for this post? Yeah, why not? I wrote a mattfoggy Hanahaki Disease fic called A Flower Cannot Blossom Without Sunshine, And Man Cannot Live Without Love. Hanahaki Disease is a multi-fandom trope where a character who is suffering from unrequited love develops an illness where flowers grow in their chest. It sounds weird, but it can actually be really bittersweet and heart-breaking. I noticed nobody had written a Hanahaki fic starring Matt and Foggy, so I wrote one! You can check it out here:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/28532568

Do you have other fandoms you'd like to talk about? Spideypool! Spider-Man and Deadpool teamed up in a hilarious set of comics and it sprouted up a fandom for people who love Deadpool and Spider-Man. I write spideypool fics, both shippy and gen, and am on a very active Spideypool discord server called Isn’t It Bromantic. It has, last time I checked, 600+ members, so if you’re looking for a new active fandom to get into, you’ll love Spideypool.

Is there anything else you want to tell us about yourself? I once read a post on Tumblr that said ‘anything worth doing is worth doing poorly’ and it really resonated with me. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t put effort into things, but it means that you don’t need to strive for perfection. What you do is good enough. Everybody has days when they look at their own fanfiction or fanart or other fanworks that they’ve made, and they doubt their ability. But don’t deprive people of your creations! Just because your work isn’t perfect, that doesn’t mean it should stay hidden. People will love your work and you’ll be surprised at how great it feels to show off your creations!

Where can your fanworks be found?  My fics are on A03, found here:  https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMoochy/works Discord: Moochy#3334

Thank you, @missmoochy !

banner by @context-is-for-kingpins !

[ID on a white background, four black triangles that look like spotlights from above. Each illuminates one of the Defenders silhouetted in white: Jessica, Luke, Danny, Matt. A hand on the left is holding a pen writing the words Content Creator Spotlight. There is a little Punisher skull on the pen. End ID]

[blu-joons]

BTS Reaction: Finding Their Heavily Pregnant Partner Doing Chores

Jin:

His eyes went wide with fear when he saw you pulling the hoover out from the cupboard underneath the stairs. Quickly, he ran over, snatching it out of your hands.

“What are you doing?” You cried out, noticing how quickly his chest rose and fell. “Jin?”

He moved the hoover out of your way before responding. “There is no way you are pushing a hoover around, you’re nearly nine months pregnant, are you out of your mind?”

“Will you just calm down? It’s just a hoover, I’ll be fine.” You went to grab it, but he grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips.

“Let me do it, you sit down and relax. I don’t want you to do anything right now, you just need to relax and look after yourself and the baby, not do anything strenuous.”

You chuckled, nodding your head at him. “Fine, but if you miss a bit or do it wrong, I get to tell you?”

“Of course, just do it sat down, you shouldn’t be doing this right now, so let me.” You nodded, as he struggled to even switch the hoover on. “How do you do it?”

“Plugging it in is a good start,” you sarcastically responded, watching his face light up when he realised the problem.

“Right, I knew that. Everything is going to be just fine.”

Yoongi:

He wasn’t sure what the noise was to begin with until he heard you groan, finding you on your hands and knees, cleaning the bottom drawer of the cupboard.

“Jagi, what have I told you about overworking yourself.” Calmly, he walked over to you.

You looked across as he knelt beside you, taking the cleaning product out of your hand. “I just saw it when I was sat down so thought I’d give it a quick wipe.”

“You should have just called me, and I would have come and done it, I’m only in the studio.” You chuckled, rolling off your knees to your back as you began to get uncomfortable.

“I didn’t want to disturb you, you’re busy with work and writing new songs, I’m fine, just give me a moment to catch my breath.”

He shook his head at you, his gummy smile on show. “You’re my number one priority right now.”

“As cute as that is, do you reckon you can help me up? You can be as soppy as you want when I’m back on that sofa.” He chuckled, standing up to help you up to your feet.

“Just take it slow, there’s no rush, take it easy.” Carefully, and slowly you got back to your feet, collapsing into the sofa.

“Oh, and Yoongi? There’s still a bit of dust there if you fancy getting it.”

Hoseok:

You bent down cautiously, peering through the oven door, your pasta bake was cooking perfectly, just in time as Hobi walked through the door after his day at the studio.

“Are you cooking?” He asked, spotting you in the kitchen. “You’re not supposed to be doing anything.”

He grabbed the oven gloves and cookbook from you, pulling out a chair. “It’s just cooking babe, I’m not completely incapable of doing anything.”

“I know, but I said I would cook from now on whilst you finish cooking that bun in the oven.” He guided you over to the chair, sitting you down in it.

“I’m nearly done anyway; it’s got a few minutes left and then it’s ready to be served.” Hobi nodded, glancing in at the dish for himself.

He smiled as he saw what was inside. “You made my favourite?”

“Yes. As hard as this pregnancy is for me, you also need time to look after yourself too, which is why I made a Spaghetti Bolognese, to try and make your day easier too.”

“Oh, you’re just so cute. Thank you, I can’t wait to dig in and try it.” Seconds later the timer went on your phone, making Hobi jump.

“I think that means it’s done sunshine, don’t panic!”

Namjoon:

As soon as he clocked you making your bed he panicked, rushing over to grab the other end of the duvet cover. He could see you getting tangled in it, worried you’d fall.

“Jagi, you’re supposed to be resting, why are you doing this?” He asked as you saw him.

You sighed, letting go of it as you struggled to cope. “I just want to feel normal again, I’m sick and tired of doing nothing, sitting around the house all day.”

“I know it’s not nice, but it’s what you’ve got to do. Please don’t do any chores, leave them to me. Do you know the risks your putting yourself under doing all of this?”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, holding back the tears that began to surface. “You have no idea how hard it is to just sit back sometimes and let you do everything.”

He smiled across at you, “you’re doing the hardest chore of them all.”

“Carrying our baby isn’t the problem Joon, the fact I’m incapable of doing anything is the problem.” He let go of the duvet, pulling you into a massive hug.

“I know it’s hard, but the baby is due in a couple of weeks and then you’ll be desperate to go back to changing duvets rather than changing nappies.”

“I guess you’re right, I might as well make the most of this quiet time.”

Jimin:

The clatter of the cutlery tumbling to the floor was enough to jolt Jimin awake as he slept on the sofa, sprinting into the living room.

“Everything okay?” He asked, scanning the room, noticing you bent down. “Baby, are you safe? Are you hurt?”

You looked up seeing the worry in his eyes. “I’m fine I just dropped a few bits whilst cleaning out the cutlery drawer, calm down.”

“Calm down? I shut my eyes for five minutes and you decide to do the chores, which you’re not supposed to do. Why didn’t you just leave this to me?”

“Because I’m cleaning up your mess, since when did knives and forks go in the same cutlery holder? You’re supposed to be making life easier for me, not harder.”

He giggled in embarrassment, scratching the top of his head. “I didn’t realise there was a layout.”

“That’s because you never do chores. I’m quite capable of moving the washing up back to its rightful home, I promise.” Jimin nodded, helping you up once you’d picked everything up.

“You’re right, I’m sorry, it’s just all this pregnancy stuff is really beginning to worry me, I just want everything to be okay.”

“It will be love, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Taehyung:

A million thoughts went through his head when he saw you with the ironing board out in the front room, but only one action sprung to mind, stopping you.

“Give me that, I can do it,” he warned you, walking over and snatching the iron from you, carefully moving you away from the board.

You frowned, trying to fight back, “let me finish what I’m doing Taehyung.”

“No, you’re too pregnant to be doing stuff like this, you should take it easy, no tiring movements or jobs.” You sighed, as nice as it was, he cared, you were capable of a little ironing.

“Taehyung, sweetheart, I love you, but I’m pregnant, I am more than alright to move my arm left and right a bit to do the ironing.”

“That might be so, but it would make me feel better if you let me do it, that way I know you’re definitely safe. If anything happened, I would never forgive myself.” He smiled.

“I’m always safe, there’s nothing to worry about,” you replied, kissing his cheek sweetly.

“Just let me do it, please, I’d feel a lot better for it.” Begrudgingly you stepped away yet continued to keep a close eye on him.

“I’m watching you, make sure it’s perfect.”

Jungkook:

You flinched lightly as the ornament you shifted fell to the floor. Jungkook’s eyes went wide as he watched you move back, standing up to grab onto your waist to steady you.

“Are you okay?” He panicked, studying your body closely for any cause of harm.

You nodded, looking up at him. “I’m fine, everything is fine, there’s nothing to worry about except for the mess on the floor.

“Do you think we should go to hospital, just to be sure? What if something has happened and you just don’t know it yet.”

Kookie,” you whispered, turning around in his arms, draping your arms around his neck. “I think I’d know if anything happened, stop worrying, baby and I are all good.”

“Are you sure? I can drive us there in fifteen if we need to, just to be certain.” You sighed, shutting him up with a kiss.

“Listen to me, everything is fine, if I need to go to hospital, I will let you know.”

“Okay,” he breathed as he listened closely to you. “Just sit down and let me sort all of this out, I shouldn’t have let you do it in the first place.”

“Jungkook, just breathe sweetie, everything is just fine.”

---

Masterlist

[obsidianarchives]

The Hairties That Bind

Oh, so long for this night I've prayed

That a star would guide you my way

- Ribbon in the Sky, Stevie Wonder 

Angelina swerved around the pitch, once again racing towards the hoops, Quaffle in hand as her Constellation 240 raced to keep up with her furious movements. She threw the ball as hard as she could, screaming into the void as it missed its usual target and hit the long post. Her breathing slowed in time with her broomstick as she swooped down to the ground to grab her weapon of choice once more. 

Letting out a huff of irritation, Angelina leaned her body against the back of the post, determined not to let tears fall from her eyes. She pulled her hands through her hair, her usual sign that something was bothering her. Ironically, it was her hair that had caused all the commotion. 

Ever since she had been sorted into Gryffindor last year, Angelina had made it her mission to be selected for the House Quidditch Team. She spent most of her spare time either on the pitch practicing her throw, in the library studying famous Chasers and their best moves, or bugging Madam Hooch to teach her new flying techniques. She knew that she had what it took to be a great athlete, but there was only one thing standing in her way, or rather, there was only one thing flying in her face: her hair. 

She had spent the week amping herself up. On Monday, she and her roommate and best friend Alicia Spinnet, had spent the afternoon completing their version of the Hollyhead Harpies workout they had seen the Easter before (25 loops around the pitch, 75 throws to a partner, and 100 shots before the timer went off). Tuesday, she ironed her favorite piece of clothing, a red I Don’t Chase Boys, I Chase the Quaffle t-shirt that her father had given her on her eleventh birthday. Wednesday, she begged her prefect, Mallory Minecoff, to let her into the bathroom so she could soak in the special bath soap that her grandmother made—a blend of eucalyptus and spearmint with a dash of honey—assured to relieve stress and cleanse the senses. 

Thursday night though was her favorite, because like clockwork, she met up with her favorite cousin, Delaney. They snacked, cackled about their weeks, while Angelina did her hair. A super cute and quiet Hufflepuff, Delaney gushed about how she was ready to see Angelina totally kill it at her tryout. Angelina knew her cousin was loyal to a fault, so it made her feel good to know someone would be there to cheer her on. 

But what Angelina couldn’t have anticipated that Friday, mere hours before tryouts, was a Double Potions lesson that would go completely awry. Professor Snape was a beast on his best days, but hearing the students chat about the upcoming trials seemed to have him even more on edge. Thus, he set them to task with mixing up Helping Handcream, a lotion that would give the user’s hands an extra boost of energy. 

Usually Angelina worked with Alicia, who was really diligent with watching Potions, but it seemed that Snape was truly in a fit to be tied. Thus she ended up with Holiss Kettlestone, a nervous Hufflepuff who just couldn’t seem to keep calm, despite all efforts. One moment their cream was settled and the next…

“My hair!!” Angelina screamed as the bubblegum pink concoction landed on her curls, its sticky steam hardening quickly. Holiss was truly apologetic, but Snape was not. 20 points taken later, Angelina sniffed away her tears as they finished the class. Professor Snape also refused to remove the cream, claiming, “You can always bathe Miss Johnson. Surely you have nothing pressing after my lesson.”

It got worse. The handcream truly would not come out in the quick shower that Angelina took right before lunch, nor did it come out when Alicia and their friend Katie Bell scrubbed it before their Charms lesson that afternoon.

Angelina had no choice but to head to the tryout, head full of gunk. She managed to tie a hair tie around it, but it did nothing to stop the elements, nor the snickers. To add insult to injury, she had to watch as Alicia and Levi Ravencroft, a fourth year whom she had seen practice and had quickly been named as the crowd favorite, scored several goals a piece. She had only scored two, a new low even for a second year. She was sure that she would be a reserve, or worse, wouldn’t make the team at all. Alicia tried to help by saying she didn’t like Levi’s flying style and that anybody could be a star on a Comet 250, but they both knew that the Quaffle doesn’t lie, and Levi could score.  Even Delaney’s famous pep talks, complete with chocolate chip cookies, didn’t make her feel better, and that was saying something. 

“Angelina?”

She looked up from the post, quietly saying, “Lumos,” to make light shine from her wand. She bit her lip as a slightly taller boy came across the field, his red hair a beacon in the darkness. 

“Hey Fred,” Angelina tried to reply cheerily, but knowing she had failed. Fred, along with his brother George, had tried out for Beaters that afternoon too. They moved flawlessly together, probably due to playing countless games with their brothers Bill and Charlie. She particularly liked his laugh, but she didn’t know what to do with that information.

“Just tossing the Quaffle around?” Fred gave a small smile, picking up the ball.

“Yeah, not really getting anywhere. The perfect end to the perfect day!” Angelina sniffed sarcastically, though she couldn’t really be mad. It wasn’t Fred’s fault that today was epically bad.

“Yeah I know today was rough for ya. Snape was an absolute git in class. You really did some amazing flying though. I, um…”

Angelina watched as Fred composed himself as he pulled out a bottle and something else from his robes. “I wrote to my mum about what happened; she’s always cleaning and uses Helpful Handcream a lot. She got it in her hair once and made this special shampoo to remove it. I’m sorry I didn’t have it earlier.”

“Wow, thanks Fred! That’s really sweet.” Angelina took the bottle, feeling extremely grateful and surprised that a guy would help her, much less write to his mum to do it.

“Yeah it’s no problem. I also made you this.” With his other hand, Fred held out a dark red ribbon, sleek and shiny and thick. It felt light and heavy in Angelina’s hand, which made her curious. 

“I notice your hair—I mean, I noticed that you were struggling to tie your hair back at the trials today, and I had been working on a ribbon that would tie and retie itself when hair escaped. I tried it on my sister and she seemed to like it.” Fred talked a bit fast, his hand rubbing his neck as he explained.

“Oh Fred, that’s amazing! What an awesome gift! Thank you!” In a burst of energy, Angelina wrapped her arms around him, the sudden hug startling them both. He stiffened, but then gave her a quick embrace back, both of them breaking apart, suddenly shy. 

“Haha you’re welcome. Will you come inside though? I’m always getting in trouble but I don’t want you to catch detention. Besides, I think you’ll be very happy once you get in! I have to go meet George and Lee, I’ll see you later yeah?” Fred questioned as he sprinted back towards the castle.

“Yeah of course. Thanks again!” Angelina shouted as she grabbed her new gifts and her equipment. As she made her way back to the Common Room, she was suddenly tackled by Alicia and Katie. 

“Lina, Lina we made it! Lina we’re Chasers!” Alicia exclaimed as Katie clapped. Angelina laughed, trying not to feel sad and instead cheer for her friends.

“That’s great Alicia, I’m so happy for you.” She managed tactfully, eager to get into a shower. 

“No silly! We ALL made it!” They dragged her over to the lists, where Angelina astonishingly read Chaser - Angelina Johnson. Her name was even followed by Beater -  Fred Weasley which made her smile even further.

“Ooo pretty ribbon Lina! Who made it for you?” 

Angelina smiled as she traced over her name one more time. “A friend.”

[sherlockxreader]

Got Her pt. 2

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Author: @realgreglestrade (Kat)

Words: 1,110

Warnings: Cussing, kidnapping, mention of blood and injury

Author’s note: Apologies for not having this up. Like I mentioned in my previous post, I have had a lot to do and this is somewhat the best I can write at the moment for my beta is away at college. I hope it turned out alright and part three will be written soon. Taglist at the bottom. 

Request: Could i get a request for sherlock x reader, where she is kidnapped by Moriarty and Sherlock and her brother (john) have to solve clues to find her? Thank you x - anonymous

Summary: You were John’s little sister and managed to find yourself into his and Sherlock Holmes’ mess of a life. What happens when a criminal mastermind kidnaps you? Will the detective you’ve fallen for and your brother save you in time?

When you awoke you were in a small, dirty room that was illuminated only by a few candles and tied down to a chair. It took you a moment for your eyes to focus and be aware of your surroundings. You didn’t know where you were, and you were too distracted with your brain pounding against your skull and the dryness of your mouth and throat to have any clear thoughts. How long have you been out? The only thing you recalled was turning down Greg’s offer for a ride and walking back to Baker Street after Sherlock left you behind at the crime scene. You heart sped up and a rush a of fear flooded through you veins. Someone grabbed you and injected you with something, and you heard a voice. A high pitched male voice that made the hairs at the back of your neck stand up before losing consciousness. James Moriarty.

Your (E/C) eyes frantically looked around the room for a way out. Moriarty took you for a reason and the only reason you can come up with was to be only used as bait to lure Sherlock out. You had to get out before it was too late. Did Sherlock even know you were missing? He was bound to, John would ask for you and Sherlock would need to provide an answer. Your brother was very protective.

Struggling against your restraints proved to be of no avail. Whoever tied the knots around your wrists was rather skilled. The rope scratched your skin with each tug, but you ignore the pain and kept trying to escape. As you continued to try and loosen the ropes, you heard a loud metal swing open and footsteps. Your blood ran cold and fear shot through you once again. With every footstep they took, your heart would race faster. You prayed to God for Sherlock, John, Mycroft, anybody to come and rescue you. The footsteps stopped outside the door, your hands clutched the arms to the chair until your knuckles turned white and squeeze your eyes closed. The door swung open and you heard the same voice from the van echo throughout the silent room.

“Hello, pet, ready to play a game?”

*

Sherlock rapidly tapped away at his phone while John anxiously bounced his leg and up and down on the cab ride to the cemetery. Since it was late at night, the streets weren’t busy and it took no less than 15 minutes to arrive at Highgate. Those 15 minutes felt like 15 years to Sherlock. His mind buzzed with questions and different scenarios about your capture. Why would Moriarty show his hand this early? It had only been a few months since the case with the Woman. Something else was coming. As the cab stopped, Sherlock pulled out a handful of notes and threw them at the driver before jumping out followed by John.

The entrance gates were wide open, Sherlock and John gave each other a look before sprinting towards the open gates and into the cemetery.

The cemetery let off more of an eerie feeling than usual. The yard was littered with statutes and tombstones. One particular statue gave John a bad feeling, it was that of an angel with its hands covering its eyes. As they cautiously walked deeper into the graveyard, Sherlock's phone give another ring. The detective plunged his hand quickly in his coat pocket and hastily turned it on. One new picture message. When he opened the image his heart stopped and he felt his body go numb. John noticed Sherlock’s stiff posture and peered over his friend’s shoulder and looked at the picture. John made a broken sound when he recognized the person in the photo, it was (Y/N). She had a huge gash on her forehead that showed blood still trickling down her face. Her bottom lip was busted and split open and John noticed a large bruise the size of a fist forming on her cheek.

Sherlock heard the ragged breathing coming his friend and he counted down the seconds to his meltdown. Three, two, one…

“LET HER GO, MORIARTY! THIS IS BETWEEN YOU AND SHERLOCK, MY SISTER HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS! COME ON OUT YOU BLOODY COWARD!”

Unable to stand seeing the picture anymore, Sherlock locked the screen and looked at John with a blank face. John stared back at him with wild eyes. He paused, scoffed, then shook his head with a cynical smile. “You don’t care at all do you? You don’t care that your friend, my sister, is in the hands of a madman.”

“You’re my friend.”

“AND SHE IS TOO!” John’s voice echoed throughout the cemetery, “SHE’S AS MUCH OF A FRIEND TO YOU AS I AM! BUT SO MUCH MORE IMPORTANT!” John ran both hands through his hair and let out a frustrated chuckle. “You don’t get it, do you? She loves you! My little sister is in love with the great detective: Sherlock bloody Holmes who doesn’t give enough of a fuck to give her the time of day! To make matters worse, he doesn’t take her kidnapping seriously!”

“I do.”

“DO WHAT?”

“Care for her…  love her.”

“THEN SHOW IT AND FIND HER!”

Before Sherlock was able to reply, there was a slow clapping coming from one of the tombs. A large metal door swung open and then emerged Jim Moriarty with a sinister sneer plastered on his pale face, the clapping ceased. “Bravo! Bravo! Encore! Such amazing performances. I do love Shakespeare in the park. I’m so glad you’ve arrived. I didn’t want you to miss the rest of show. “ “Where’s my sister?” John’s voice shook. “Right to the point with you, isn’t it? Don’t be boring, Johnny boy.” Moriarty shot him a bored look.

“Let her go, Moriarty. (Y/N) has nothing to do with our game,” Sherlock spoke up. The consulting criminal looked at the two, his grin grew wider, “it has everything to do with her. I have warned you once before, Sherlock. Back off, don’t nose your way into my things. You couldn’t help it, though. However, I will admit that the things I do are deliciously fun, but after a while it’s only enough fun for one man. So, my darling, think of this as the final warning before the big show.” “What about (Y/N)?” “You’ll see, Johnny boy!” the madman gave Sherlock and John another smile before turning on his heels and walked away and disappearing into the night. Sherlock’s phone chimed once again. It was a timer. 59:59. The phone rang once more and received a text. “Forty-two.”

————————————– 

PART THREE

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TAGGING LIST 

@frackinawesomeninja @lame-lozer @ex-bookjunky @randombloggers-world @mpmarypoppins @spn-applepie-imagines @thebadassbitchqueen @cute-mirei

[hotchnerfuckmeup]

Over Brownies and Wine

Anon asked:   Can I have an imagine with JJ, please? Even though she's married and has kids - whom I love - I don't see many people writing about her. So I was thinking her and Will can be separated due to something serious, you're the kids' nanny and she gets closer to you from confiding in you when the kids are asleep and you're drinking wine one night and feelings come out and it's just super fluffy and cute and lots of kisses. ☺️💗

A/N:  I agree little nonny, give me more JJ.  Hope you like this!  I decided to keep JJ and Will’s separation open meaning I didn’t give a reason why they’re not together, so you can decide on that!

Y/N turned the egg timer, grinning as Henry and Michael looked excitedly at the brownies she’d put in the oven.

“Good job, guys,” she said enthusiastically.  They watched the slow-baking goods under the oven light, anticipating the ding of the timer.

“How long do they have to be in there?” Henry asked.  He was covered in brownie batter, luckily wearing the tiny apron that Y/N had bought as a birthday present last year.

“For forty minutes.  You gotta let them bake long enough for them to taste really good,” she told them, rubbing Michael’s head.

“Aw man,” Henry retorted, stomping his foot on the ground.

“You know, I bet that by the time you guys take a bath, once you’re finished, the brownies will be done,” she replied with raised eyebrows.

The boys looked at each other and grinned, sending each other a silent signal before sprinting off to the bathroom.  Y/N giggled and looked around the kitchen.  It was a mess, but she knew it was probably better if she cleaned it herself.  She knew just how JJ liked it done and organized anyways.

After about ten minutes of vigorous cleaning and washing dishes, her phone rang.  She quickly dried her hands off and ran to the counter, seeing JJ’s name on the screen.  Smiling, she answered it.

“Hey.”

“Y/N.”  JJ sounded exhausted.  

“Tough case, huh?” she asked.

“You have no idea,” JJ replied, sighing loudly.  “I’m on my way home, I just thought I’d call you.  I know it’s late so I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to be asleep or anything.”

“Not a problem Jayge.  Actually, they’re in the bath now.”

“You got them to take a bath?” she asked surprised.

“We made brownies.  I told them they’d be done when they were out,” Y/N replied with a smile, wiping the counter aimlessly.  She cocked her head to the side, enjoying talking to her boss, whom she didn’t see as a boss, more as a friend.  In fact, seeing her maybe a bit more than that.

“Incredible.  You tell them once and they’re happy to do it,” JJ said with a chuckle.  Y/N could practically see her shaking her head.

“How long you gonna be?” she asked.

“Maybe another half hour,” JJ started, but she hesitated.

“What is it?”  Y/N could always tell when something was off with JJ.  She knew that woman far too much.  It was only because she admired her so much.  She was tough, fierce, and beautiful.  So god damn beautiful.

“I just...  I was hoping not to be alone tonight,” JJ said, her voice cracking.  Y/N’s heart hurt at the sound.

“Of course, JJ.  I’ll do anything you need me to do,” she told her.

“Thank you,” the blond whispered, probably wiping a tear.

“I’ll see you soon.  There’ll be wine and brownies waiting for you when you get here,” she replied with a sad smile, just wanting to do anything in her power to comfort the woman she’d fallen for.

“Can’t wait.”

Half an hour later, Henry and Michael had finished up their bath and were finishing the brownies Y/N cut for them.

“We did good,” Henry said to Michael with a wink.  The younger child nodded his head, shoving another bite into his mouth.

“Hey now, I helped,” Y/N said, raising an eyebrow at him.  He stuck his tongue out at her in response.

That’s when the front door opened and JJ stepped through, throwing down her go-bag with a sigh.

“Mommy!” the boys hollered in unison, running up to hug their mother.

“Hey, guys,” she said, kneeling to be level with them, enveloping them in her arms.  Y/N stood up from her seat, smiling at the adorableness before grabbing the messy plates and taking them to the kitchen.

“Were you two good for Y/N?” she asked.

“Yeah, she helped us make brownies,” Henry said with a grin.

“I heard,” she replied, kissing him on the cheek.  “I hope you guys aren’t too hyped up on sugar to sleep tonight.”

“Completely my fault.  They wanted to stay up to see you when you got home rather than wait until morning,” Y/N admitted, walking back into the living room.  JJ stood up straight and looked at her.

“It’s fine, I always love seeing my boys,” she said, beginning to chase them.  They ran around for a few moments before she caught them in each of her arms.  “I think it’s time for bed.”

“Nooo!” Michael yelled in his tiny voice.

“Yes,” JJ retorted, putting them back on the ground.

“Want me to draw you a bath?” Y/N asked quietly as JJ led her children toward their bedrooms.

“I’d rather just dive straight into that wine,” she replied with a wink before disappearing around the corner, making Y/N’s heart flutter.  Damn, was she in deep.

“It was just a mess,” JJ said, raising the glass back up to her lips.  They were halfway though the bottle with two empty brownie plates, and Y/N assured JJ she didn’t have to talk about the case, but she insisted.

“I honestly can’t imagine doing what you do,” Y/N replied, sitting her glass on the table and folding her legs up to her chest, wrapping herself up.

“It’s difficult.  And then with the cases and the separation...” JJ stopped herself short, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry Jayge.”  She honestly didn’t know what else to say.  I mean, what could you say in that situation?

“I’m just so damn glad I’ve had you here to help.  When I said I needed a nanny, you aren’t at all what I was expecting, you’re so much better.”

“I do what I can,” Y/N said with a playful grin.

JJ chuckled.  “I’m serious, Y/N.  You clean the house when I don’t even ask you to, you put gas in my car, you take such good care of my kids.  I have no idea what I would do without you.”

“Thanks.  But really, I’m really just happy to help, you know.  It’s my job.”

They were silent for a moment.  Not uncomfortably silent, just quiet.  It was calming and right.

“Does it feel like a job?” JJ asked suddenly.  Y/N furrowed her brows.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you feel like this is a job to you?” she asked.  “Because to me, it doesn’t feel like you’re my employee.  It feels like your my friend.”

Y/N felt a ping in her heart at the word friend.  There wasn’t anything wrong with it, especially considering it was true.  But the word friend didn’t feel right to Y/N.  She really liked JJ.  A lot.

“I guess that’s how I feel, too,” she replied reluctantly.

The alcohol in her JJ’s must’ve really kicked in, because the next thing Y/N knew, she was leaning over and pressing her lips to hers, the spark igniting immediately.

The kiss was sudden, but soft and felt so right.  When she pulled away, JJ’s eyes remained closed and her lips remained puckered.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered when she opened her eyes.

“Don’t be,” Y/N whispered back, unraveling herself and pressing her lips back to JJ’s.  Their lips moved slowly with each other and Y/N felt nothing but fireworks and tingling fingertips as they grazed the back of JJ’s neck, pulling her closer.  

JJ smiled into the kiss, placing her hands onto Y/N’s hips, letting herself fall onto her.  The moment felt so perfect and so right, and was everything both of them had been waiting for.

[toushindai]

Weirdos

Happy birthday, @maitressepatria! This is less plotty than normal and a little rushed but I hope it’s cute enough to make up for some of that.

Also, @lizalaforet once suggested "Claudia and Illness make Charon a cake and/or Claudia introduces Illness to Claire and Chane" as a prompt so that's... kind of where this idea came from?? Though it doesn't exactly match that.

While Illness and Charon are making a surprise birthday cake for Claudia, some of Claudia's relatives come to visit.

[ Read on Ao3 ]

Illness and Charon had just put the cake in the oven when the doorbell rang. Illness’s brow furrowed. “Who’s that?”

Charon was halfway through shrugging in response when a voice from outside called, “Where’s the birthday girl?” Then comprehension flitted across his face.

“Great-Grandpa Felix,” he muttered.

“Who?”

Without further explanation, Charon left the kitchen in the direction of the front door. Illness hesitated, unsure whether to follow him or stay put. And the timer still needed to be set for the cake. Nervously, she punched 25 minutes into the timer on the stove and then stood there a moment more, trying to tell from the sounds in the entrance whether she was wanted there or supposed to stay here. But she couldn’t tell. Well, Claudia had never said anything about having mean relatives. Maybe they wouldn’t mind if Illness intruded.

She wiped her hands on her skirts and made her way towards the entrance. By the time she got there, Charon had let the visitor—or rather, visitors—in.

“Hey, Charon. Where’s your sister?”

“She’s out.”

The man who had spoken must’ve been Felix. He was old—wasn’t he? Somehow he didn’t look elderly; his posture made him look like a young man who just happened to have wrinkles and pure-white hair. He was carrying an enormous package on his shoulder with no effort.

At Charon’s abbreviated answer, Felix winced and turned to the woman behind him. She had gray hair and eyes that shone with the same gold as Claudia and Charon’s. Right now, she was arching one eyebrow at Felix.

“Yeah, sorry, Chané, you were right,” he said to her, then turned back to Charon. “Chané kept telling me that we didn’t want to be so early, but I didn’t listen.”

Charon only nodded; whether this indicated forgiveness of their early arrival or agreement with the woman named Chané’s point, it was unclear.

“Any idea when she’ll be back?”

Charon only shrugged at that. Which was true: they didn’t know an exact time. But Illness found her mouth opening.

“Um—”

Both of the old people looked her way curiously.

“Her mom and dad took her out shopping so Charon and I could make a cake for her. Um, and the cake just went in the oven? So hopefully she’ll be gone for at least another hour, because after it comes out of the oven we have to frost it. But I don’t really know exactly,” she added at the end, her voice getting a little quiet as she spoke. Felix and Chané were both looking straight at her, and Felix’s eyes were a lot like Claudia’s, and it was overwhelming.

But they were definitely smiling. Smiling like they knew something.

“You must be Illness,” Felix said slyly. “We’ve heard all about you from Claudia.”

“Oh,” Illness said, unable to guess what Claudia might’ve told them.

But Felix seemed to notice her unease and waved his free hand to chase it away. “Good things, all good things! You’ve heard of us, too, right? Felix and Chané?”

“Um, I don’t…”

“The assassin and the terrorist,” Charon said quietly.

Illness looked at him, then back at the old people, then back at Charon. “Them?!”

As soon as the word left her mouth, she realized it was rude—but Felix only burst into loud laughter. Chané’s shoulders, too, seemed to shake with amusement, though she didn’t make a sound. Illness flushed. If that was who they were, then yeah, Claudia had mentioned them. They’d met as part of a train hijacking 70 years ago and fallen in love at first sight. Claudia seemed to think this was romantic. And she seemed to think it was normal, too. At least, that was what she tried to convince Illness of.

Felix recovered from his outburst of laughter and sighed contentedly. “Yep, that was us,” he said. “Hard to believe it’s been over 70 years now, huh, Chané? Anyway—Illness, it’s great to finally meet you. Lemme put this down somewhere so I can shake your hand.”

Charon led them all to the living room, and Felix and Chané did indeed shake Illness’s hand, Felix again professing a warm eagerness to meet her. Chané didn’t say anything, but now that Illness thought about it, Claudia had mentioned that her great-grandmother (the former terrorist) didn’t speak much. And given that Charon didn’t either, it would probably fall to Illness to be the gracious host. Which was not exactly her forte. She turned worriedly towards where Charon—had been. He was on his way out of the living room. Illness’s stomach plunged.

“Charon…!” she hissed, too frantic to care about how obvious she was being. Charon held up one finger in an indication to wait… and then continued out of the room. Crap. Illness turned back towards the guests, who’d taken a seat on the couch. She pulled her mouth up in what was… hopefully??… a normal smile.

“Um, make yourself at home!” she said, and then felt stupid. “I mean, I guess you’ve been coming to this house since before I even knew Claudia existed…”

“Not necessarily!” Felix replied. “They moved here just a few years ago, so depending on what movie you first saw her in…”

“Oh, I didn’t… um… I didn’t see her in any movies before I met her,” Illness said, her face reddening. Was that weird? Claudia was a pretty big star. It was probably weird. The explanation stumbled out of her. “I don’t really watch movies. Unless she’s in them! I really like her movies! It’s just all the other ones that I don’t like.”

Felix chuckled. “All the others?”

“Uh…” Illness thought of all the movie buffs from the Mask Makers, the way they used to squeeze her into a couch and force her to watch really violent crap and laugh at her when she didn’t understand things. It was taking more effort to smile. “Um,” she started again, but she didn’t know how to answer Felix’s teasing.

She was saved from the friendly intensity of his stare when Chané touched his arm. She shot a sharp look at him and then turned towards Illness with a softer gaze. She lifted her hand and made a few gestures, an inquisitive look on her face. Illness winced, her stomach twisting guiltily. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t…”

Chané waved one hand to deny the need for an apology, then reached into her purse for a pad of paper and a pen. As she was writing, Charon returned carrying four glasses of ice water on a tray. He set them down on coasters and then took a seat next to Illness.

“Thanks for setting the timer,” he said, and gave her a thumbs up.

“Oh, no problem…”

Chané had finished writing. She offered the notebook to Illness. In impeccably neat handwriting, it said I’m sorry for my husband—he can be a little pushy. He’s quite kind at heart. We don’t have to talk about movies if you don’t want to.

“Was I being pushy?” Felix asked.

Chané nodded.

“Whoops. My bad, Illness.”

“Um… it’s okay. I guess it’s not really normal to hate movies, so…”

“You said you like Claudia’s, though?” Another look from Chané. Felix cleared his throat bashfully. “With the disclaimer that you don’t have to talk about those ones, either, if you don’t want to, as my wife reminds me.”

“No, I can talk about Claudia’s movies! I really love them,” Illness said, and she felt her shoulders relax a little as they found an easy topic to talk about. She could probably keep up conversation about Claudia’s movies for a little while. “She’s just so great in them, like she can just be anyone and she’s so convincing, and she really puts her all into them. It’s really, um… um…”

Oh no. She was remembering the first time she saw Claudia’s movies, back on the Entrance, and that was making her tear up. Her hands knotted together in her lap. She couldn’t cry now, she was just meeting these people and they were Claudia’s family…

But Felix didn’t look bothered. In fact, he was smiling that sly smile again.

“You really love Claudia, don’t you?”

Red dyed Illness’s face. But she didn’t want to deny it. She nodded, embarrassed.

“She loves you, too. But I bet she’s told you that.”

Illness nodded again and reached for the ice water Charon had set in front of her in the hope it would cool her down a little.

“You know, if you proposed to her, I bet she’d say yes.”

Illness spit her water across the coffee table. “Are you crazy?! …Wait, I mean—!” She couldn’t say that, that was so rude! “I mean… um… I’m sorry, I’m gonna get some paper towels, sorry…”

She stood up in a hurry and practically sprinted to the kitchen, her heart pounding. She was messing this up. Really badly. Really, really badly. Claudia obviously loved her great-grandparents, and here Illness was saying awful things to them and being really awkward. But telling her to propose marriage to Claudia was really weird, too… wasn’t it?

Illness’s head spun and she ripped paper towel after paper towel off the roll. She had to go back in there to clean up. That’s what she’d said she was gonna do. Taking a deep breath, she turned—

Only to find that Chané had followed her to the kitchen, notepad in hand. Illness flushed miserably and looked down at the ground

“I’m sorry I said that mean thing about your husband,” she mumbled.

Again, Chané waved away the apology and turned to her notebook. Illness’s stomach tied itself in painful knots as she wrote, but Chané’s words were kind.

You don’t need to apologize. Honestly, you’re right: Claire is a little crazy.

“Um… Claire?”

Chané lifted a finger to her lips. What I call Felix. Only me, though.

“Oh! Um, sorry. Felix. Um… I didn’t mean it. He’s not really crazy. I just… I can’t propose to Claudia. I’m not ready. Maybe that makes me weird…”

Chané shook her head. Before turning back to her notebook, she rested a gentle hand on Illness’s arm and smiled warmly. Kindly. Illness smiled back, almost genuinely.

You’re not weird, Illness, Chané wrote. Claire and I really like you, and we’re excited to meet you.

“Oh… thanks.” Illness couldn’t imagine why.

Claire only suggests things like that because—well, it’s how he got me.

Watching as Chané wrote, Illness’s eyes bugged out of her head. “Wait, what?”

Chané’s cheeks colored and a nostalgic smile came to her face. Oh, yes. He proposed to me the first night we met. On top of a moving train, after threatening to kill me about fifteen minutes before.

“Uh…”

Illness had no idea what to say to that.

Chané’s shoulders trembled with silent laughter once more. It didn’t work right away, to be honest, but… well, if anyone is weird here, it’s probably me. Or maybe we all are. Maybe that’s just the Walken legacy. You’re in good company, Illness.

Illness felt herself blush, but it wasn’t as unpleasant as it had been before. Her racing heart was calming, too. She couldn’t decide whether to deny that Chané was weird or to thank her for being so welcoming, so she just stayed shyly quiet.

Chané sent another smile her way, but this time it looked a little like Felix’s: still warm, but a little mischievous. She hid her notebook as she wrote, and then showed it to Illness with a flourish.

Forget proposing to Claudia for now; but if you ask her on a date, I promise she’ll say yes.

And Illness went bright red again. “I—but—I—”

Another silent laugh. Forgive me. I just think you’d make a lovely great-granddaughter-in-law.

And before Illness could figure out what to say to that, the timer went off. Illness jumped and turned towards the oven.

“Um, I gotta take care of this…”

Chané nodded. Should I bring in the others to help?

“In a second,” Illness said. She took a deep breath and tried to still her shaking hands, her trembling heart. It was okay. Felix and Chané liked her, and Claudia liked her, and they’d draw a picture of Sharky on top of the cake and Claudia would like that, too, and maybe when they were done celebrating Claudia’s birthday and Felix and Chané had left, Illness would ask Claudia if she wanted to go somewhere just the two of them. Maybe, maybe she would.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she said, and took the cake out of the oven.