#prepare for chaos and... make it triple

[multicohn]

summary: ollie didn’t think much about the bear plush he had given his girlfriend. it was just something for her to sleep with while he was racing and she couldn’t come, so why is she still sleeping with it even when he’s home?

warnings: not proofread, literally just started writing so there might be some misspelled or missing words

pairing: fem! reader x ollie bearman

genre: fluff, established relationship

author note: this is inspired by a dream i had

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

coming back home from a triple header felt like a weight has been lifted off ollie’s shoulders. his girlfriend, y/n, couldn’t come to any of the races since she ( had to prepare for exams / couldn’t get time off work ). ollie didn’t mind since she would be able to travel with him to the next race.

it was late when he landed and even later when he finally arrived home from the airport. ollie waved goodbye to his trainer as the door opened and his girlfriend smiled tiredly at him.

“welcome home” she pressed her lips against his and he could lightly taste the flavour of her toothpaste

ollie smiled softly at y/n before pressing his lips against her temple and walking inside. their home was dark and the only light source came from the hallway, but ollie easily moved into their bedroom where it was evident that y/n had been asleep moments ago.

while ollie went to change in the bathroom, y/n readjusted and got herself comfortable again before grabbing ahold of the teddy bear that had fallen off when she got up to open the door for ollie.

y/n didn’t realise the chaos that would unfold the moment ollie realised she was still clinging to the plush toy instead of him.

the driver yawned as he closed the bathroom door before crawling into bed where his girlfriend laid. ollie didn’t sense anything off. y/n normally laid with her back to him, but would shift throughout her sleep and would eventually end up facing him.

ollie’s eyebrows furrowed as he felt y/n move, but she didn’t cling into him like she normally did. ollie begrudgingly opened his eyes and looked down at his girlfriend, the hallway light shone into their room and he could make out the familiar plush he had gotten his girlfriend.

he frowned, deeply.

why is she still hugging that thing and not him?

ollie glared at the stuffed toy and was able to pull it away from y/n who groaned. she rubbed her eyes before opening them, only to see ollie frowning at her.

“what?”

he stared at his girlfriend before giving the teddy bear one last and throwing it into the hallway.

“ollie!” y/n was now wide away and went to sit up, but was tugged back down by ollie

“why are you still hugging that thing?!”

“you got me that thing!”

“only for when i’m away!”

y/n struggled to get out of his grip and out of protest, ollie shifted half his weight onto her making the girl groan.

“you’re supposed to cuddly me. not that” he huffed and buried his face into her neck

“you could’ve just said so”

“just go to sleep”

“ollie —“

“shhh”

“ol —“

“shhh”

y/n rolled her eyes with a sigh before wrapping her arms around ollie who hummed happily.

[makis-eyebrows]

Little Polesitters

After Y/n meets George Russell's daughter, a new version of her sparked out of her, making Alex question how and when it all happened.

Race Weekend – Silverstone Grand Prix

The paddock buzzed with energy and anticipation—drivers preparing, fans cheering, cameras flashing. But amidst all the grown-up chaos, two little girls were the center of a different kind of attention.

Seven-year-old Y/n Albon, daughter of Alex Albon and his girlfriend Lily Muni He, had always been the quiet type. She’d cling to her mum’s leg during press days and would hide behind her dad’s arms when new people tried to talk to her. Soft-spoken, shy, and gentle—Y/n was the polar opposite of the roar of Formula 1.

That was, until she met Amelia Russell.

Amelia, George Russell’s equally seven-year-old daughter, was a ball of sunshine and endless energy, much like her mother, Carmen Montero Mundt. Curious, bold, and unapologetically chatty, she had no trouble striking up conversations with anyone—even if they were triple her age or size. When the Russells and Albons first met up for a playdate during the Spanish Grand Prix a year ago, nobody expected a spark like the one that happened between the girls.

“Hi. I like your shoes,” Amelia had said with a wide smile, bouncing in her pink Crocs.

Y/n had blinked, unsure of what to say. She glanced down at her own Crocs—yellow, with tiny panda pins clipped into the holes.

“They match mine! See?” Amelia pointed. “Wanna play?”

From that moment on, something shifted. Y/n nodded. And just like that, they were inseparable.

Fast Forward to Silverstone

Lily adjusted the little denim jacket on Y/n’s shoulders while the girl impatiently wriggled. “She’s here! I saw her car!”

“Okay, okay, hold still for one second—” Lily laughed, trying to fix the heart-shaped hair clip that was moments from falling off her daughter’s head.

Just then, Amelia came racing through the hospitality gates in a pastel purple dress, holding her dad George’s hand and nearly dragging him along.

“Y/N!!!”

“AMELIA!!!”

The paddock turned at the loud, unfiltered joy coming from two tiny humans. Y/n bolted from her mother’s side and collided into her best friend in a whirlwind of giggles and matching glitter sneakers.

“LOOK! We matched again without even trying!” Amelia squealed.

Y/n’s eyes sparkled. “And your hair clip is the same as mine!”

George and Alex stood side-by-side, shaking their heads with amused smiles as their daughters began to dance in circles together.

“Did they text each other again?” Alex asked.

“Mate,” George chuckled, “they don’t even have phones. Amelia made me call Lily just so she could describe the outfit she wanted to wear today. In detail.”

Carmen walked over with Lily, both laughing as they watched the chaos unfold.

“They’re like two little fireworks,” Carmen smiled. “It's hard to believe Y/n used to be so quiet.”

“She still is,” Lily said fondly. “Except around Amelia.”

Later That Day – Inside the Williams Motorhome

Between interviews and race strategy meetings, Alex popped into the hospitality lounge. The girls were huddled in a corner with crayons and markers, drawing what appeared to be a giant heart-shaped racetrack, complete with little stick figures of themselves holding trophies.

“We’re gonna be racers too,” Amelia declared.

“Yeah,” Y/n nodded confidently, her shyness nowhere to be seen. “We’ll be team... Al-Rus.”

Alex burst out laughing. “Al-Rus, huh? That sounds terrifying.”

“Terrifyingly fast,” Amelia grinned, throwing a wink at George, who had just entered.

George knelt down beside them. “You two better be nice to your pit crews.”

“We are the pit crews,” Y/n replied, looking very serious.

The entire room melted.

Back on the Grid

As the race weekend unfolded, the two girls remained joined at the hip—matching hats, shared snacks, and even coordinated cheers for both their dads.

Y/n still wasn’t much of a talker with most people. But Amelia? She had flipped a switch inside her.

Whenever someone asked about her best friend, Y/n would always answer the same thing, with a small but certain smile:

“She makes me feel brave.”

And that's number 2 for me. I actually quite like doing this, honestly.

I was told I should turn my previous story into a series, but I'm not too sure cuz I'm scared I'll lose the plot, then I'll look slow.😭

But other than that, yall are still open to send requests and stuff.

That's Gang Gang out!!!♡

[woso-story]

Mila's First Crush - Part Two

Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leon x DaughterMila

It was Mila’s fifth birthday, and the backyard was decked out like a rainbow exploded—balloons everywhere, a lion-shaped cake, and tiny footballs scattered across the lawn. Mapi had personally curated every detail, triple-checking that everything was safe, colorful, and Mila-approved.

But none of her planning could prepare her for him.

“Maria,” Ingrid said with a grin as she walked up beside her wife, holding a tray of juice boxes. “Try to look less like you’re guarding the royal jewels.”

“I am,” Mapi muttered, eyes locked on a curly-haired little boy running across the grass—Mila right on his heels, giggling. “There he is. Ricardo.”

Ingrid tried (and failed) not to laugh. “He’s five.”

“He has dimples. That’s dangerous.”

“Maria.”

But Mapi wasn’t listening. Her eyes narrowed like a hawk tracking its prey.

Ricardo was now helping Mila climb onto the little plastic slide. He even held her hand as she went up. Mila squealed with joy as she slid down, then immediately ran back to do it again—with Ricardo cheering at the bottom.

Ingrid leaned into her wife’s side. “He’s sweet. And respectful. You’re being dramatic.”

“I don’t like the way he smiles at her,” Mapi whispered. “Too charming. He’s like a mini heartbreaker in sneakers.”

Just then, Mila came running over, cheeks red and eyes sparkling.

“Mami! Ricardo gave me his blue lollipop! He said it’s the best one and he wanted me to have it because I’m special!”

Mapi’s eye twitched.

Ingrid snorted into her juice box.

“That’s... nice of him,” Mapi managed, her tone strained.

Mila didn’t notice. She was already racing back toward the chaos of the party.

---

Later, as they all gathered to sing “Happy Birthday,” Ricardo stood next to Mila, proudly off-key and clapping harder than anyone. When Mila blew out her candles, she leaned over and whispered something in his ear. He beamed. BEAMED.

Mapi was about to combust.

Once cake had been devoured and gift bags handed out, Ingrid found her wife sitting on a lounge chair, arms crossed, staring off into the middle distance like she’d just witnessed the end of an era.

“She said she’s going to sit next to him at lunch every day now,” Mapi said quietly.

Ingrid sat down beside her. “You okay?”

“No.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“She’s five, Ingrid. Five. And I already have to deal with this heartbreak she’s going to bring home one day. And what if it’s Ricardo who breaks her heart? I can’t punch a five-year-old.”

Ingrid wheezed with laughter. “No. You absolutely cannot.”

“I just… I want to protect her from everything. From every boy who will ever say he likes her, or doesn’t text back, or tells her football isn’t for girls. She’s our baby.”

Ingrid took her hand, squeezing it. “And she’ll always be our baby. But we’ve gotta let her make her own stories too. Even the messy ones.”

Mapi sighed, resting her head on Ingrid’s shoulder. “Fine. But if she ever cries because of that boy, I’m switching her to a different preschool.”

“Deal,” Ingrid said, laughing as Mila ran over with Ricardo close behind, both holding juice boxes and showing off their temporary lion tattoos.

“Look!” Mila beamed. “We’re twins!”

Mapi gave them a smile that was… technically a smile. It mostly just showed teeth.

Ingrid whispered, “That’s terrifying.”

Later that night, when Mila was tucked into bed, still talking about her perfect birthday party and Ricardo even as she drifted off, Mapi stood in the doorway, arms folded again.

Ingrid came up behind her, wrapping her in a hug.

“She’s got a big heart,” Ingrid said softly.

“She gets it from me,” Mapi said.

“And the endless yapping.”

“That’s definitely from me.”

They laughed quietly, watching their daughter sleep.

“I still don’t like Ricardo,” Mapi mumbled.

“I know.”

[dreamakizz]

moment in the sun ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ riki maus

in which your boyfriend maki finally gets to spend a day with you at the beach ⛱️☀️

containing: idol!maki x reader, 100% fluff, wc: 738 note!! this is my first piece i hope you like it!

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

summer had always been your favorite person.

not a season or a temperature. a person.

the kind that would show up late, uninvited, and still make you laugh so hard your ribs hurt after. the one who always rolled the windows down in the car, dragged you outside bare-foot, and triple dog dared you to live loudly.

summer was bronzed arms reaching into the fridge for lemonade, music blasting at all times, and lazy bodies sprawled out on towels until the sun disappeared.

that’s what it feels like when you’re with him

maki has that same kind of feeling — soft around the edges but a bright burning center. and when he looks at you, and really sees you, it feels like the whole world slows down to listen.

he’d come with the rest of the teamies, tucked in a nice little beach house on the coast that smelled like salt water and fresh fruit.

for once, there were no cameras or stylists in sight. just the sand in everyone’s shoes, the glasses of water sweating onto the countertops, and the creaks of the old swing, singing every time he pushed you gently with the tips of his fingers..

“i don’t need money, i don’t need to be cool..”

you had seen the pressure in his eyes before. on stage, in variety shows, even in the seconds before the camera turned on. he always smiled, always gave.

but here, with his cheek now resting against your knee and the sun painting his face with a golden tan, he didn’t have to give anything. he just was.

you always love him most like this.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

at the beach the teamies ran ahead, chasing each other into waves, laughing loudly and slipping on seaweed.

you lingered with maki, your hands brushing against each other occasionally in silence. he bent down and wiped the sand from your ankle, gently, like it was something sacred.

you touched his wrist and whispered to him.. “you could disappear like this”

he looked at you, curious.

“i mean it,” you say “you don’t need to be everything. not here. not with me. just be.. you.”

the tide came in slow, covering the footprints you had left together. and maybe that was the entire point — not everything needs to last forever to mean something. maybe these moments were meant to be lived. not kept.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

later, back at the house, you curled up with maki on the sun-warmed deck while the others prepared dinner.

“all that other noise is just a waste of time… you’re the only music on my mind..”

euijoo, sitting inside, put on a new playlist through the open windows — fuzzy, faint, and full of old songs with new meaning.

but you barely heard it. all you could feel was maki’s breath against your shoulder and the way he traced shapes on your thigh with his fingertip, like a poem only meant for you.

“i’d trade it for a moment in the sun with you.”

he tilted his head, watching you.

“what?” you ask.

he smiled slowly, and it was the kind to stay with you. “you feel like summer.”

your throat caught. “you do too.”

but what you really meant was… you feel like all the summers i never had. like sunburned joy and saltwater peace. like the version of me that only exists when you’re around.

and when he kissed you — slow, like he never wanted to leave — it wasn’t about passion or urgency. it was about presence. about choosing each other in the stillness.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

the sun began to skin behind the horizon, casting an amber glow on the beach house. in the glow, the whole world felt like it had leaned closer, just to watch you and maki.

because some moments are small. fleeting. unspoken.

a moment in the sun — with your favorite person — was enough to carry you through all the moments of chaos, leading you back to the stillness in the sun.

@dreamakizz ™

[andy-15-07]

Hey, I just watched Triple Frontier and I would like to read Pedro Pascal xf! Reader plus size, Pedro and Reader are dating, Reader is a CIA agent but works directly with the SEAL team, Pedro and Oscar Isaac ask Reader for tips on how to be a good team guy

Mission: Trust and Teamwork

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 2226| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

“Y/N, you know you’re our secret weapon,” Pedro grinned, ruffling your hair as you walked into the briefing room at headquarters. The fluorescent lights cast a crisp glow over the room, highlighting the determined glimmer in your eyes. You, a plus-size CIA agent with a reputation for unparalleled skills in working with the SEAL team, had earned the respect of everyone here—not just for your expertise, but for your kindness and unwavering determination. And today was no different.

You took your seat at the large oval table, your well-worn tactical jacket draped over your shoulders. A mug of strong coffee steamed beside your laptop as you prepared for the briefing. Across from you, Pedro Pascal leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes watching you with affection and admiration. Just a few seats away, Oscar Isaac, the ever-curious strategist, tapped his pen against a notepad, clearly itching to learn from the best.

The agenda for the meeting was straightforward: Team integration tips for an upcoming joint operation involving CIA intelligence and Navy SEAL field expertise. But as soon as the introductions were over, it became evident that today’s session was less about procedure and more about learning the art of being a “good team guy”—a quality that both Pedro and Oscar were eager to master.

“Alright, team,” you began, a confident smile on your lips, “today we’re going to focus on what it means to be a solid, reliable teammate on and off the field. I know both of you have asked for some pointers, so let’s dive in.”

Pedro leaned forward, his voice warm and teasing. “So, Agent Y/N, as the resident CIA badass and my brilliant girlfriend, can you tell us: How do we become the kind of team players that make you swoon every time you watch us in action?”

Oscar chuckled. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve been reading a lot about leadership and teamwork, but sometimes I feel like there’s an element you just can’t teach in books. Help us out, will you?”

You tapped a finger thoughtfully on the table. “Well, it starts with communication,” you explained, glancing between Pedro and Oscar. “No matter how skilled you are individually, if you don’t talk to each other, you’re setting yourselves up for failure. Whether it’s during a covert op or planning a strategy session, clear, honest dialogue is key.”

Pedro smirked. “I always thought I was pretty good at that, but I guess I could polish my listening skills a bit more.”

Oscar nodded in agreement. “I’ve noticed that sometimes I jump in too quickly, assuming I know what everyone else is thinking. Maybe I should learn to hold back and really listen first.”

You smiled warmly at both of them. “Exactly. It’s about trust and understanding. You have to trust your team with your life—and in return, they’ll trust you to have their back. I remember when I first joined the SEAL team as a CIA consultant, I was terrified of not measuring up because of my background. But I learned that strength isn’t just about physical prowess—it’s about the courage to speak up, the willingness to ask for help, and the ability to give it when someone needs you.”

Pedro leaned in closer, his tone softening. “Y/N, I’ve seen you in action. You handle every situation with such grace, even under pressure. I want to know: How do you keep your cool when everything around you is chaos?”

You sighed, your gaze turning introspective. “I think it comes down to preparation and perspective. When you’re well-prepared, you can predict a lot of what might happen, and that gives you a foundation to stand on when things go awry. And perspective—knowing that mistakes are just opportunities to learn—helps you stay calm. I remind myself that every mission is a chance to grow, both as a professional and as a person.”

Oscar scribbled notes furiously. “So, preparation and perspective—got it. But what about moments when you have to make split-second decisions? How do you balance the need to act with the need to consult your team?”

You exchanged a quick look with Pedro, who raised his eyebrows playfully. “That’s where experience comes in,” you said. “And a lot of practice. You need to know your teammates so well that you can almost predict their moves. Sometimes, you have to trust your instincts. I rely on my training and on the fact that I know my team—each of you—inside out. And remember, sometimes the best decision is to take a step back, let the situation unfold, and then jump in with a well-timed intervention.”

Pedro laughed softly. “I guess that means I should probably work on my ‘jump in’ technique before our next op. Maybe even perfect that dramatic pause you always talk about.”

You nudged him with your elbow. “Oh, you mean the ‘cool, calculated silence’? Trust me, it’s harder than it sounds.”

Oscar grinned. “And what about empathy? How do we make sure that we’re not just efficient, but also supportive to one another? I mean, sometimes the pressure can get to you, and having someone who understands can make all the difference.”

Your eyes softened. “Empathy is essential. Recognize that each of you brings a unique set of strengths and vulnerabilities to the table. It’s important to celebrate each other’s successes and support each other during failures. There was a time I doubted my abilities because I didn’t fit the typical mold. But I learned that being true to yourself—embracing your strengths, including your size and the confidence that comes with it—is what really matters. You both have your own insecurities, and by being open about them, you create an environment where everyone can thrive.”

Pedro’s expression grew sincere as he reached for your hand. “I’m proud to be with someone who isn’t afraid to show her true self. You’re proof that being strong comes in all shapes and sizes.”

Oscar leaned back, nodding in agreement. “I’m taking notes on everything you’re saying, Y/N. But I have to ask: What’s the most important quality you think a team member can have?”

You paused, considering the question carefully. “Honestly? It’s integrity. Trust is built on honesty. If you’re not willing to be honest with yourself and your team, nothing else matters. Whether you’re planning a covert mission or just debriefing after a long day, integrity is the foundation that keeps everything else in place.”

There was a moment of quiet as Pedro and Oscar absorbed your words. Then Pedro broke the silence with a teasing smile. “So, should we all start signing an oath to always be brutally honest with you?”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Maybe not an oath, but a commitment to always be there for each other—even when it’s hard.”

The conversation continued, ebbing and flowing between serious strategy and playful banter. At one point, you recalled a recent mission where your quick thinking had saved the day. Pedro’s eyes shone with admiration as you recounted the story.

“It was just one of those moments,” you said, shrugging modestly. “We were deep in enemy territory, and everything seemed to be going wrong. I noticed a pattern in their communication that everyone else missed, and I knew it was our chance to act. It wasn’t about being the hero—it was about being a part of something bigger, about knowing that every single decision counts.”

Oscar leaned forward, his voice low with awe. “That’s incredible, Y/N. I mean, it takes guts to make those calls in the heat of the moment. I hope I can learn to trust my instincts like you do.”

Pedro’s expression turned serious for a moment. “And I hope I can learn to be a better listener, too. You’ve shown me that sometimes, the best leadership isn’t about taking charge—it’s about knowing when to step back and let someone else shine.”

You smiled, grateful for their openness. “Each of you has something unique to offer. Pedro, your ability to rally the team and keep spirits high is invaluable. And Oscar, your analytical mind helps us see patterns that others might miss. Remember, a successful team is one where everyone’s strengths complement each other.”

The room buzzed with the energy of shared purpose as you wrapped up the session with a few final words. “I know the upcoming operation is going to be challenging. But if we stick to these principles—communication, trust, empathy, and integrity—I have no doubt that we’ll come out stronger on the other side. And remember, we’re not just a team on the field—we’re a team in life.”

Pedro squeezed your hand. “I couldn’t agree more, love. You’re not only an incredible agent, but also an inspiration to us all.”

Oscar grinned broadly. “Yeah, Y/N, thanks for giving us a crash course in being awesome teammates. I think I’m going to need a refresher after every mission!”

Laughter filled the room, the camaraderie palpable. In that moment, it was clear that the bonds forged in the crucible of danger and duty extended far beyond the call of duty. They were the bonds of family—chosen and cherished.

Later that evening, after the formal briefing had ended and the team had dispersed to prepare for the mission, you and Pedro found a quiet moment together in your shared apartment. The soft hum of the city outside contrasted with the warm, secure atmosphere inside. Pedro moved closer, wrapping his arms around you as you sat on the worn leather sofa, a half-finished cup of tea in your hand.

“You know,” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder, “today wasn’t just about teamwork. It was about how much I’ve learned from you—not just in the field, but in life.”

You smiled softly, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. “I learn from you, too, Pedro. Every day, you remind me that love and trust are the strongest forces we have.”

He chuckled, running a hand along your arm. “And here I was, thinking I’d be the one giving lessons. I guess I’m the lucky one to have a partner who’s as brilliant and fearless as you are.”

You leaned into his embrace, savoring the simple intimacy of the moment. “We’re lucky—lucky to have each other, to have a team that supports us, and to be part of something bigger than ourselves.”

Pedro’s eyes sparkled as he pulled away slightly, a mischievous glint in his gaze. “So, Agent Y/N, what do you say we celebrate tonight by practicing some more teamwork of our own? I have a few ideas for a debriefing… if you know what I mean.”

You laughed, a playful glint in your eye. “Oh, I know exactly what you mean. And trust me, after today’s session, I’m more than ready for some hands-on training.”

The conversation turned to lighter, more flirtatious banter as you both planned a quiet, celebratory evening. You talked about everything from favorite movies to shared dreams, your dialogue filled with the ease of long-term love and mutual respect. In those moments, it was clear that your relationship was more than just a partnership in the field—it was a union built on shared values, trust, and an unyielding commitment to each other’s well-being.

As the night deepened, you found yourself lying together on the couch, the soft glow of a table lamp illuminating your contented smiles. Pedro’s hand rested on your stomach—a tender reminder that every part of you was cherished, celebrated, and integral to the life you were building together.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice a tender murmur, “thank you for being the heart of this team—and for showing me that real strength comes in all forms. I love you.”

You reached up, tracing the lines of his face with gentle fingers. “I love you too, Pedro. And thank you for always being there, for listening, and for believing in us—both on the field and off.”

In that quiet moment, as the night wrapped around you like a protective cloak, you realized that every lesson, every bit of advice, and every shared laugh was weaving a tapestry of trust and love—a tapestry that would carry you through every mission, every challenge, and every moment of joy that lay ahead.

The next day, energized by your heartfelt conversation and the knowledge that your team was stronger than ever, you stepped back into the fray with renewed determination. Pedro and Oscar continued to seek your counsel, their questions now laced with genuine admiration and respect. And as each day unfolded, the bond between you grew deeper—both as colleagues in a high-stakes world and as partners in life.

In the end, it wasn’t just about being a good team guy or a brilliant CIA agent. It was about forging connections that transcended titles and ranks, about creating a family out of trust, humor, and endless support. And as you led your team into the next chapter of your journey, you knew that as long as you all communicated honestly, trusted each other implicitly, and never lost sight of what truly mattered, no mission was impossible.

Because when hearts and minds unite in the pursuit of a common goal, that unity becomes the most powerful weapon of all—and the promise of a better tomorrow was written in every shared laugh, every whispered word of encouragement, and every moment of unbreakable trust.

[obsessedwrhys]

Fusdifuufdtyffdykfucuppivsauwerjttjrjth your lorsan angst headcanons were so good I’m going insane. May I request some comfort headcanons for him now (platonic preferably but do whatever inspires you most) a crumb of affection for the bunny boy please!!!!! Thank you in advance!

|| LORSAN PLATONIC HEADCANONS ||

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ fluff/comfort, only an ounce of angst, reader is gn!! (I'm happy to hear you liked the angst post 😚💕)

Friends with this man? Prepare yourself because this friendship is anything but normal.

He would definitely steal snacks from people just for you two to enjoy it later. It's literally proven canon in the game.

To no surprise, ya'll are always bickering with each other. The results being it hard for you guys to ever finish an important task.

There was this one time you guys argued about whether or not if pineapple belonged on pizza.

It's a timeless topic and it gets brought up every now and then.

This also leads to late night conversations, sometimes you guys dont even talk but just enjoy the presence of the other person. Most of the time you fall asleep together because of the calmness in the air.

You know this friendship ain't complete if ya'll aren't talking about your favourite movies, shows or music and sharing it.

"Lorsan look at this character I like, aren't they hot?!"

"Ew 😐"

Expect a lot of surprise visits, like you could be on an adventure to do something important and he would pop out of nowhere with a huge smile on his face. But you don't complain much about it because the sight of him makes you relax.

Just being around him makes you feel like you could be your true self.

Plus, half of the time he arrives just in time to save you from a fight.

Ya'll would definitely hold hands, you know those things where people hold hands and they're just swinging it front and back so happily? Yeah that's the type of thing you two do.

He just loves it, he doesn't care if it's childish, there's nothing wrong with taking care of your inner child.

Of course talking about your feelings is important. If he needs someone to comfort him, you're the first he goes to. The same applies to you.

You always prepare his favourite strawberry candy when he comes over to rant about something, sometimes you don't even need to say anything but just take it out of your pocket and hand it to him.

He appreciates you very much.

The two of you went through some really dark times but with each other's support, you both survived. Whether it be saying dumb jokes or crying late at night together. One wouldn't have made it far without the other.

Respecting the other person's boundaries? Check ✅

He knows all your fears and you know all his. This just leads to an endless circle of pranks.

Lorsan once used Bryon to shield you from approaching him with a frog and you can imagine the level of chaos of the situation.

"Bryon save me!!"

"Uh... did I intrude at a wrong time?"

"COME BACK HERE LORSAN ITS RIBBIT TIME!!"

You guys would have the most weirdest inside jokes that everybody else gets concern at the most random things ya'll crack up at.

There was this one time you both just started laughing when Lyca expressed her frustration about losing the package of peanuts she needed to send to Granny Dahnie.

Trust that she was not pleased.

Brushing each other's hair? Also check ✅

Wearing each other's clothes? Triple check ✅

He doesn't care if it's a hat or a whole t-shirt, he's wearing it and you can't stop him 😈

He loves you dearly but bro can't remember your birthday even if his life was on the line.

Your friendship with him is literally "bae" but platonically.

I'm talking joking flirting with each other but the moment someone says how cute you two would look together, one's gagging out of disgust and the other is glaring the shit out of the person who said it.

So never break his heart because who else is he gonna be his ride or die when it comes to getting into trouble? ☹.

[kiki-smith21]

An Invitation to Sanctuary

Wednesday Addams x Autistic Fem Reader

A/N: This is my first fanfic, and any feedback would be appreciated. Let me know if you want a part 5. (I am actually autistic, so this is mostly based off the symptoms I show, but if you have any typical symptoms of autism you wish for me to add to the story later let me know and I'll try my best. Please be respectful to all, and remember to drink water and look after yourself, cuties❤️)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Summary: In an attempt to help Wednesday escape the discomforts of her dorm, the reader offers her space to Wednesday.

The bond between you and Wednesday had strengthened with each passing day. What began as shared moments in the library had blossomed into a deep, unspoken connection. You found comfort in her presence, and she seemed to find solace in yours. The quiet evenings spent together had become a cherished routine.

One evening, after another fulfilling session of working on a puzzle and discussing a particularly intriguing book, you noticed a rare hint of frustration on Wednesday's face. It was subtle, but it was there—an unusual crack in her usual facade of calm.

"You seem troubled," you said softly, glancing up from the puzzle pieces scattered on the table.

Wednesday sighed, closing her book with a soft thud. "Enid is hosting a sleepover in our dorm tonight. It’s... noisy. Not exactly conducive to the tranquility I prefer."

You knew Enid's sleepovers were often lively affairs, a stark contrast to Wednesday's quiet nature. The idea of her enduring that chaos while you enjoyed your peaceful library sessions seemed unjust.

A thought occurred to you, and with a sudden burst of courage, you spoke up. "If you need a quiet place to escape the noise, you’re welcome to come to my dorm. It’s much quieter, and I have an extra bed."

Wednesday’s dark eyes met yours, a mixture of surprise and curiosity evident in her gaze. "Your dorm?"

"Yes," you said, nodding. "It’s one of the few single rooms on campus. It was meant to be a double or even a triple, so there are two spare beds. It’s spacious and quiet—perfect for escaping the noise."

There was a brief pause, as if Wednesday was considering the offer, weighing the potential benefits. Finally, she nodded, a faint smile touching her lips. "I appreciate the offer. It seems preferable to enduring the cacophony of Enid’s gathering."

With a sense of relief, you packed up your things and together you walked to your dorm. The evening air was cool, and the quiet of the campus felt oddly comforting. When you arrived at your dorm, you unlocked the door and led Wednesday inside.

The room was large and airy, with a cozy feel that contrasted sharply with the busy, communal spaces of Nevermore. You gestured to the two spare beds, each neatly made and inviting.

"Feel free to make yourself comfortable," you said. "I’ll get some refreshments."

Wednesday nodded, her gaze moving around the room with a rare sense of appreciation. You quickly set up a tray with some tea and snacks, placing it on the small table between the beds.

When you returned, Wednesday was sitting on one of the beds, her posture relaxed. You sat down beside her, a comfortable silence settling over the room.

"This is... surprisingly pleasant," Wednesday admitted, taking a sip of the tea you’d prepared. "I hadn’t expected to find such comfort in a dorm room."

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest at her words. "I’m glad you think so. I figured it would be a nice escape from the usual chaos."

As the evening wore on, you both settled into a more relaxed atmosphere. You continued to chat softly about various topics, occasionally glancing at the books and puzzles you had brought along. The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by comfortable pauses that spoke of a deepening trust and understanding.

Eventually, you both decided to turn in for the night. As you prepared to go to bed, Wednesday’s hand brushed against yours, a gentle touch that sent a reassuring warmth through you.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "This has been a welcome reprieve."

You met her gaze, feeling a profound connection in the simplicity of the moment. "Anytime. I’m glad I could offer a little peace."

With the lights dimmed and the room enveloped in a peaceful quiet, you both settled into your respective beds. The comfort of having Wednesday there, away from the noise and chaos, added a new layer of tranquility to your evening.

The shared experience of a quiet night, devoid of the usual disturbances, further cemented the bond between you. It was a small gesture, but one that carried significant meaning—a testament to the growing trust and affection that had developed between you both.

And so, in the calm of the night, with the gentle hum of the campus at rest, the sanctuary of your dorm became a place of shared peace and unspoken understanding. It was a reflection of the comfort and support that had become central to your growing relationship with Wednesday.

[georgiapeach30513]

Kinktober 2023, Day 1

The Girls Come Easy

Summary: You had built an audience as an influencer, and everybody was ready for you to document going to see your favorite band, but what was documented was not what you had expected. When the boys invited you backstage, and took your phone you was not prepared for them to broadcast the debauchery and chaos with them. One too many drinks and hits off whatever they gave you, and you became their toy for the night. A night you and all your followers would not soon forget…

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader X Clark Kent X Mickey Henry

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, PIV sex, oral sex, anal, double vaginal penetration, double penetration, threats of triple penetration, pinching, sucking, fingering, recording without knowledge, multiple orgasms, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.7K

Series Masterlist

Moodboard Event

Taking out your phone, you look through the excited messages from your followers for this moment. A moment you have waited to happen for years. Not just going to see your favorite band with the dumbest name; The Twisted Turnips, but you had been invited to meet them. They had asked for you! But you couldn’t bring anyone with you, and you of course had said that was just fine. Anything to meet them.

The concert was amazing, but your adrenaline rush was still hanging in strong. You were going to pass out after this. Your body could only handle so much, and it was reaching its peak.

All three of them were disgustingly attractive; Mickey with his eyeliner, and penchant to never wear clothes. Lloyd with his perfect coiffed hair and a devious smirk. That man could ruin your life, and you would crawl on your knees for more. And then the brooding and dangerously handsome Clark. He was the quiet one of the group, but you just knew there was something underneath that coy exterior.

They had somehow found out you were going to be at their concert, and requested for you to come backstage. You? Each moment in this holding room feels like forever. Isolating you after a big concert is making your anxiety crash through the ceiling.

You settle back, picking at your nails with anticipation. Running through every different scenario you could think of for how this was going to go. But when that door creaks open, and you get the first flash of the bluest eyes, you stand up at attention. Lloyd’s devil may care attitude is more apparent in person. Mickey’s grin is damn near sadistic, and Clark is licking his lips like he had found his next meal.

“So what’s a pretty girl like you listening to trash like us for?” Lloyd’s voice was as smooth as butter. Laced with whatever booze or drugs he had consumed before coming to see you. He stalks around your body, letting his fingers run over your exposed skin, and it sends a sharp chill up your spine.

Alarms going off in your head, because the way they were staring at you like they were ready to devour you. And you like it. “Where’s your phone, sweetheart?” Mickey holds out his hand, and you give him an odd look. “We know you like documenting everything, but you shouldn’t document this. It’s private.”

“Oh. Okay, that seems fair,” when you hand him your phone, and Clark moves to stand in front of you quickly. His wide stature blocking you from seeing anything behind him. “So…why…why did…it’s hot in here,” you take a deep breath. It wasn’t hot it is stifling.

“I think it’s just you,” Lloyd whispers as his mouth closes in on your neck. He pushes his crotch into your backside, and you whimper, feeling the growing bulge. “What’s wrong? You can do your research on us, but we can’t on you?”

“Wh-wh-what?” Your words hiccup out while Mickey makes his return to your side. “What’re you…oh god,” you moan. Someone or some people had their hands cupping your covered pussy.

“God’s no longer here. We’re your gods. And we’re going to make sure you have the night to remember. Isn’t that what your filthy little mind thought up?” All three of them stop their ministrations. Crowding you, and making it impossible to move away from them. Eyeing you up, and needing you to confess.

“Clark?” Mickey whispers on your neck, and Clark pulls up his phone, clearing his throat.

“I lose all self control as Lloyd fucks deep into my cunt, while Clark owns my ass. Pounding me into next year, and Mickey fucks into my throat so hard, I know I died and gone to hell. There was no place for this amount of sin in heaven,” Clark speaks softly. Moving closer to you before his mouth hovers right over yours.

“Where…where did you get that?” Standing behind you, Lloyd pops open your pants. Sliding a hand down your front, letting his fingers slide through your slick. Palming over your clit when he enters two fingers. It is happening so fast, and you can’t catch your breath, but fuck this felt better than you could have ever imagined.

“One of your little followers informed someone, who knows someone, and it doesn’t matter. You wanted us to fuck you, and you proudly state it to the world that you are nothing but wet holes for us, we thought we’d be generous, and make you nothing but our filthy slutty soaking wet holes. A sweet whore for our enjoyment. Isn’t that what you wanted?” You whimper as Lloyd starts stretching you out with three fingers.

Your body starts to grind down on him as the other two touch and kiss over your body. Hands start ripping off articles of clothing, because who needs to take them off like a normal person? Letting your tits free and both Clark and Mickey attach their mouths to them.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head as you sink down into an unexplainable high. “There you go, honey. Three mouths, three dicks, and six hands that are going to destroy you. Give you some inspiration for your next smutty fantasy. See if you can describe the sounds we make, okay?”

The two men sucking on your tits pull off with a loud pop. Your nipples pebbled and swollen ache to have them back on your body, but they are just getting started. Lloyd looks over to some stand in the corner, giving it a wink, and brings your body in front of theirs.

Clark grabs your jaw, turning you to meet his mouth with a deep kiss. His tongue sliding past your lips, while Lloyd slaps at your tits. Grabbing them in both his meaty hands, he gives them a jiggle before holding tight to your waist.

Mickey lifts up your legs, and spreads you out wide, “Look at what a tight little pussy this is. Are you ready for us to make your dreams come true?” Mumbling out a yes over Clark’s tongue, Mickey walks in between your thighs. Letting Lloyd hold you up, and without warning his thick dick crashes into your warmth, and you pull away from Clark watching him stab into you. Relentless and hard, making you see stars.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, but Lloyd grabs hold of your nipples, pinching the nubs hard, “Oh, we’re just getting started. You’ll wanna stay away for the grand finale. What are you?”

Distracted. You are distracted and in a trance at Mickey cramming himself into you. Lost in watching your body stretch to accommodate him, every inch of him disappearing in the depths of your pussy.

“What are you?” Lloyd shouts, and Clark smacks you across the face. “What are you?”

“I’m…” what are you? You didn’t know what answer he was looking for. It is hard to concentrate on how freeing this felt.

“Are you our whore?” Clark circles his hand around your throat, and your mouth falls open. So much pleasure. Too much some might say, but if you die from cock, you’ll take it. Lloyd spits down into your open mouth, and you swallow it like it was the best thing you had ever tasted.

“Yeah, she’s our whore. Look at how well she’s taking Mickey’s cock. She didn’t even need to get used to the stretch, she just took it so well. But let’s hear that whore mouth say it. Tell me. What are you?” He asks again, and you whine as pleasure starts building in your tummy. Mickey is hitting all the right spots, and you can hardly focus, much less think.

“What the fuck are you?” Lloyd gives your nipples another hard squeeze, and Clark’s hold on your neck gets tighter right as Mickey races to the finish line. Letting your walls clench down tight around him.

“I’m your whore! I’m your fucking whore! Oh my fuuuuckk!” Mickey pulls out of you and holds your legs spread open. Slapping at your clit over and over again. You squirm. You try to bring your legs together as the gateway to hell gets ever closer.

Strings of your arousal pull off him, but he keeps slapping until your pleasure is squirting out on his face, and Lloyd places you on the floor. Face down, ass up when he squats behind you, gripping your hips so tight, you know you’re going to bruise. He starts railing into you. “You didn’t tell me how good this pussy felt? You like being used?”

“Uh huh,” your voice is already sounding a bit hoarse, but you didn’t want him to stop. You still needed to feel Clark. You need his girth in your body. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” the only word you could get out, and you didn’t want to know anything more. This was the perfect definition of what you wanted, and how you wanted it.

It had become tiring to be this perfect influencer, so to have three men use you, telling you what you need, is setting your world on fire, and it was the best feeling. “Yes! Yes!”

“You’re enjoying this, huh? Look at this sloppy little cunt. Got you creaming all over my cock. You going to let us each come in this pussy? Watch as we leak out of that abused hole? Or do you want each hole filled with cum? Be our little cumdump.”

“Yes. Yes! Yes, I do! Fuck me! Fuck your whore. Fucking…ahh!” Your fingers dig into the floor, trying to find something to ground yourself as more pleasure builds up. “Lloyd, I’m going to…” it happens all so fast and your legs start to tremble from pleasure. “I’m coming. Fuck, yes. Fuck!”

He picks you up by your waist, and starts lowering you over Clark. Having your back up against his chest on the coach, and Clark’s meaty hands hold onto you. Guiding you lower over his thick engorged cock, and you cry. Tears brim your waterline, but you persevere not stopping until your cunt swallows him whole, and Lloyd and Mickey point chuckling at how you are struggling to take him.

“Next place it’s going is your ass,” you whimper, and he starts bouncing you over him. Squatting over him, and hands on your chest when Mickey brings a phone right up to your cunt being stuffed full of Clark Kent. “Are you smiling for the camera?”

Answering only by the most pleasure filled mewls. He slams you harder over him, and you scream out nonsensical words. Unable to think of anything. “Mickey, let Lloyd hold the camera and let’s see if this pussy can take more.”

“You’re getting a lot of hearts, sweetheart,” Lloyd mumbles as he takes the phone from Mickey. Placing it right at your entrance as his band mate tries to stuff you more.

“No. No, it won’t fit. Ahh!”

“Shh,” Mickey coos down at you. “You wrote it. Let’s try.”

“Please, please!” You look at where the three of you are trying to connect and scream. You doubted your body's ability to take all that. Did they have to have such large cocks?

“Shh,” Clark is the one in your ear. Stilling his motions as he kisses softly over your neck. “We’ll make it fit. Go on, Mickey. She’s the little whore that wanted us in all kinds of ways. Fulfill her fantasies.”

Mickey gives a hard push, and tears spring to your eyes as he fills your cunt with another cock. It hurt so good. The fullness in your heated cunt with both of them in there was soothing. It felt right. “I’m about to bust a nut,” Mickey exhales. “My…fuckfuckfuck. It’s so tight. It’s fucking tight. Fuck. Fuck. Lloyd, you won’t fit in there this time.”

“What?” You sob, looking in between the two of them, trying to find Lloyd who was being the camera man.

“We’re going to make you watch this video later,” Lloyd threatens, keeping the camera right on your throbbing pussy.

“No! That was fiction!”

“You admitted you did the research. You watched some disgusting porn about a girl getting her pussy stuffed with three cocks. You said it would be bliss to have the band as one with you,” Lloyd’s mouth turns up into an evil smirk as he moves the camera to your face.

“Her’s a little scared pussy cat. Come on, Sugar Tits, you said you were our whore. All your fans would love to know that you can take every cock.”

“I have three holes! Fuck me, raw, just not all in my pussy.”

“Tonight,” Lloyd adds in.

“Yeah, tonight. Ahh!” You hiss through your teeth as Mickey pulls out of you. Clark lifts you up, and moves his giant dick to your ass, and you bite down as a new sensation of pleasurable pain ripples through your body. Your ass had never been stretched out so wide. It happened so quickly, you couldn’t even think.

Mickey crawls onto the couch, straddling both you and Clark when he starts slapping you with his dick. “I got to stare at your ass?” Lloyd asks, positioning himself in between your thighs. “Fuck,” groaning as he pushes himself into your warmth, and Mickey does the same.

“Fucking whore!” Clark rumbles behind you. “Look at her taking every single one of us. All three of us, just like the goddamn whore she is. Hollow out those cheeks, Sugar Tits, we’re about to take advantage of your holes.”

You relax, letting the three of them command your body. Using you like their sex toy. Nothing has ever felt like this. You were ruined for life. It was the most glorious and freeing feeling being used for their pleasure. Grunts, growls, biting, slapping, and all on your body.

Deep into your body. Over and over again. Every part of your body ripples and recoils with their motions. “You’ve got two hands, too, Sugar Tits. Maybe next time the other two can join us, hmm? Such a fucking whore.”

“You look pretty with your makeup smearing down your face.”

“Kiss your Instagram, goodbye. I doubt after tonight you’ll have one,” they say words, but you can’t hear them. All you can do is feel. Every hard thrust into you takes you even further away from life. And closer to whatever hell they were living in.

Moaning out in pleasure until the four of you are just a sea of sin. Just when you think you can’t take anymore Mickey pinches your tits, Clark holds on to your neck, and Lloyd makes tight circles on your clit. Had it not been for Mickey jackhammering into your throat, they would hear what they were doing to you.

“Come!” Lloyd shouts, and cum from all three of them spurt deep into your channels, and you sigh as Mickey pulls out of your mouth, and stuffing his leaking cum back into your mouth.

Dumb on cock and pleasure. It is blissful. Your eyes start to close as Mickey brings someone’s phone back over to you. Holding it over your pussy as Lloyd pulls himself out. “You see what we did to her? Got her gaping, and leaking of cum. And look at this,” he brings the camera back to your face, and gives you a little slap.

You look at him with a dopey smile, and a whimper. “She’s good and dumb guys. Say bye to your favorite influencer. She’s our whore now. You heard it yourselves. I hope you enjoyed the show. Oh, you want to see her ass. Go on, big guy, they want to see your ‘seed’ leak out of her ass.”

“Mmm,” you whine as Clark pulls you off him. Showing your ass to the phone, but you're slowly falling asleep. It was amazing. You’re glad no one saw you.

“Yeah. It’s a pretty sight, seeing all those sloppy holes. Well. We’re signing off now. Goodnight,” Mickey ends the live feed on your instagram, ignoring all the calls, texts, and everything else that was popping up on your feed.

His finger moves around quickly as Lloyd and Clark tend to your exhausted body.

Deactivate.

Next

Masterlist

@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @buckybarnesisdaddy @magnificentsaladllama

[lecsainz]

Hi i absolutely love your stories.

And i dont know if you are also writing for dennis hauger but when yes could you then please do an dennis hauger x female reader where the reader has like a panick attack and he helps her.

Ly❤️

U ARE SAFE WITH ME

parings: dennis hauger x girlfriend!reader

summary: that one where you have an anxiety attack and your boyfriend - dennis - helps you.

authors note: maybe it didn't turn out quite how you wanted because i don't feel very comfortable writing about anxiety right now, but i hope you like it.

☆. . . masterlist !

The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as Dennis prepared for a crucial race. In the midst of the bustling paddock, Y/N, his girlfriend, tried to keep her nerves in check. The pressure of the event weighed on her, and suddenly, the world seemed to spin out of control.

Y/N's breath quickened, her heart pounding in her chest as the panic attack began to take hold. She couldn't breathe, and her vision blurred as the world around her became a chaotic whirlwind. In that moment of vulnerability, Dennis noticed her distress.

"Dennis... I can't... breathe," Y/N stammered, her voice trembling as she reached out for him, her hands shaking.

Without hesitation, Dennis pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her in a protective embrace. "Shh, it's okay, love." he whispered soothingly, his voice a calming presence amidst the chaos of the race. "Just focus on me. Breathe with me."

Dennis guided Y/N through deep breaths, their chests rising and falling in unison. Slowly, her racing heart began to steady, and the panic began to subside. The world regained its clarity as Y/N clung to Dennis, finding solace in his reassuring presence.

"I've got you," Dennis murmured, his hand gently rubbing her back. "You're safe with me."

As Y/N's breathing returned to normal, she felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for Dennis. In the midst of the high-stakes race, he had been there for her, a steady anchor in her storm of anxiety.

"Thank you," Y/N whispered, her eyes filled with appreciation as she looked up at him.

Dennis smiled warmly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Always," he replied, his eyes filled with care and concern.

Seeing that Y/N had regained her composure, Dennis had an idea. He gently took her hand and said, "You know what would make us both feel better? Let's take a stroll through the paddock and grab some ice cream."

Y/N's eyes lit up with a hint of excitement at the suggestion. "Ice cream sounds perfect right now," she said, a small smile playing on her lips.

They left the bustling pit area behind and ventured into the paddock, the heart of the race where teams prepared for the competition. Despite the chaos of the event, Dennis and Y/N found a sense of peace in each other's company. Their fingers intertwined, they walked hand in hand.

As they approached an ice cream stand, Y/N's mood visibly lifted. She scanned the various flavors, her eyes sparkling with delight. "What flavor are you getting?" she asked Dennis.

Dennis chuckled. "I think I'll go with classic vanilla," he replied. "What about you?"

Y/N grinned mischievously. "I'm feeling adventurous today. I'll have the triple chocolate fudge swirl with extra sprinkles!"

They enjoyed their ice creams, savoring each sweet bite as they strolled through the paddock. The sounds of the race faded into the background. It was a moment of respite, a chance to savor the simple pleasures of life amidst the adrenaline-fueled world of motorsport.

As they continued their leisurely stroll through the paddock, something unexpected happened – raindrops began to fall from the sky, gently at first, and then more steadily. 

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she felt the first drops hit her skin. Panic welled up within her again. She knew what the rain meant in this context; Dennis would have to race in wet conditions, which added an extra layer of stress to the already intense competition.

Y/N's expression shifted from one of serene enjoyment to one of unease. She glanced up at the sky, raindrops lightly splattering her face, and a sense of worry crept over her. Dennis immediately noticed the change in her demeanor.

"Hey," Dennis said, his voice filled with concern as he noticed Y/N's anxious expression. "What's wrong?"

Y/N bit her lower lip, her fingers subconsciously reaching for Dennis's hand. "It's just... the rain," she admitted hesitantly. "I'm scared for you out there on the track."

Dennis squeezed her hand reassuringly. "You know I can handle the rain, Y/N/N. Besides, I've got a great team behind me."

Despite his comforting words, Y/N's anxiety lingered, and her grip on Dennis's hand tightened. The thought of him racing in unpredictable weather conditions had triggered her panic attack earlier.

Dennis gently tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. "Look," he said, a soft smile on his face, "I promise I'll be extra careful out there, okay? And when I cross that finish line, we'll celebrate together, rain or shine."

Y/N managed a small, grateful smile. She knew Dennis had a passion for racing that couldn't be swayed by a little rain. "I don’t know why but you always know how to calm me down." she admitted.

Dennis chuckled, his eyes sparkling with affection. "That's what I'm here for, sweetheart." he replied.

As the rain continued to fall, they headed back toward the race area. Y/N knew that no matter the conditions, she would be there, cheering for Dennis every step of the way, just as he had been there for her when she needed him the most.

[ven10]

May I request some Quigley hcs pls....... pls sir can i have some more.............. maybe some post-canon perhaps..............

YES!!!!! Quigley my beloved :D!!!!!!!!

(Btw the 1st 4 hcs are quite sad however after that they’re more lighthearted)

1: During his time alone during canon, Quigley developed a habit of talking to himself pretending as if Isadora or Duncan had spoken. [Mainly doing it when he was stressed+wanted to feel less alone, as if he had someone with him who he could rely on.] However even after he’s reunited with his siblings this habit persists, although he tries not to do it.

The first time Duncan, standing in the doorway behind Quigley (who is bent over a map on the floor;trying desperately to track down the Baudelaires) catches Quigley talking to himself he’s confused so hesitates in the doorway for a few moments, sensing that Quigley hasn’t realised he’s there and wondering why Quigley is addressing him as if he had spoken, muttering something along the lines of “no no Dunc, I don’t think that would work…but if we tried what Isa suggested then maybe-”

Duncan stands still for a moment to process before walking over to Quigley’s hunched form, bending down and just hugging him.

2: When he’s anxious he sleeps with his shoes on, prepared to flee at a moment’s notice. He also always keeps a packed rucksack under his bed for this reason. Before he+his triplets inherit their fortune they have very few belongings so it’s really obvious how Quigley keeps his packed.

3: Also on the topic of shoes, I hc that Quigley wears scuffed boots worn to oblivion, the stitches on the seams begging for release, duct tape wrapped and re-wrapped round the left boot (which got stuck in a jagged rock+ripped out). Also the laces would be triple knotted and mismatched (one is the original purple-Quigley’s favourite colour- the other is black and “borrowed” from Isadora after he somehow managed to loose one of his own laces). 🥾

4: Has inner conflict going on between fearing losing the people he loves if he lets them out of his sight for 0.01 seconds vs being the wildly independent person he became in the absence of others

I imagine Quigley to disregard his own wellbeing in favour of “but this plan will work!” eg, Quigley accidentally kicks a ball onto the roof and without second thought tries to scale the building. Leading to the inevitable breakdown of Isadora+Duncan. ⚽️

Uhhh these were all pretty angsty so here’s some more light-hearted ones~✨✨

5: loves ‘worm on a string’s , they’re so dumb, he can’t get enough of them. Isadora+Duncan will be struggling over homework meanwhile Quigley (who is legally dead and therefore doesn’t have to attend school) will use the invisible string to make the worm slither over their maths equations like the menace he is. 🐛

6: While his triplets prefer English as a subject (from being an aspiring journalist and poet) Quigley is better at maths due to the calculations he does to figure out the right coordinates on maps. If he craves socialisation(/chaos) outside of their usual circle then sometimes Quigley will offer to impersonate Isa or Duncan if they have a maths lesson/test that day. 📚

7: Quigley is an extrovert and befriends people quickly but this by no means means he does so normally. His hyperfixation on cartography extends into an interest in geography+cultural differences between places so whenever he meets a new person+has time for full discussions he interrogates them till he has a full history on them, their extended family+their ancestors regarding the places they have lived in or travelled to. 🗣️ 💬 🌍

8: Post-canon whenever the triplets have reunited and are in search of a competent guardian (deciding to find one themselves bc social services would have them sent to some grim place like Prufrock) Duncan scourges through newspaper archives for information of any relatives they have and puts together a family tree.

As he searches for more articles, Isadora+Quigley take a black sharpie to X off any unsuitable/unavailable/dead guardians. Since they’ve been in the library with the archive for a LONG time, a librarian approaches Isa+Quigley to ask if they need any help before cutting herself off mid sentence and backing away hurriedly with her lips pursed tight. It is only then that Isadora+Quigley look down at their ‘family tree’ and realise it resembles a hit list. 🌳 🖊️

9: Quigley steals other people’s clothes all the time. Usually his triplets’ clothes+some of Violet’s jumpers or jackets but occasionally he’ll borrow some of Klaus’ too. Klaus’s things aren’t really Quigley’s style but he likes watching to see how long it takes Klaus to realise. 🧥👚👕👔👖

10: Quigley+Violet are a lethal combo bc Violet will invent something worthy of a new hazard warning and Quigley will be jumping at the opportunity to test it out. 💡

11: Post-canon Quigley gets a job at a local café to afford rent and does a double take every time someone asks for a sugar bowl. 🥣

12: Quigley is a massive animal lover. Cannot get enough of them. Tries to adopt every stray he sees. Convinced Violet to install a dog flap on their door despite the fact that they technically don’t even have a pet.

13: Quigley is The Best at water fights. Sunny thinks she’s doing great having dumped a bucket of water on top of Klaus, meanwhile Quigley is sneaking up behind her with a power-hose. 💧

Thanks so much for the ask @cygninae !!!!!!!!!!!!!

I LOVE talking about Quigley!!!!!! :))))))

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Sorry for being gone for so long, I haven't been feeling great both physically and mentally, so that was awesome...anyway:

Look, Eddie wasn't that picky when it came to companions. He wasn't much of a catch either - as a bard, it was already expected of him to cause chaos, but with his choice of songs, the result was less of a bardic inspiration and more of a "turn everyone against each other" or "make everyone extremely horny". Which...actually worked when they needed to avoid combat, but by ancient gods, he didn't need to see that group of orcs going at it.

Anyways. Eddie wasn't picky, but Steven Harrington was becoming a bit too much for him.

First: he was a rich kid. Eddie was a proud trash raised in a cottage that barely held together and he had no patience for people who never washed their own laundry (not that Eddie did, well, not too often, but still).

Second: he was effortlessly handsome. Annoyingly handsome. Bad hair day? Steven fucking Harrington didn't know those. His moles were placed in perfect places. Eddie had nearly invisible freckles and his only moles were - embarrassingly enough - near his groin and if you squinted hard enough, looked like a daisy petal. So uncool. But uncool was a word Steven Harrington apparently lacked in his vocabulary.

And third...this. Just...all of this.

Eddie didn't want to think of himself as a prejudiced person, he really didn't. But there were two things he didn't like in this world: lawyers and necromancers.

And Steven somehow managed to blend both of those into a horrible combination that just. Fucking. Worked.

Eddie was strumming on his lute and watched Steven open a bag full of old bones, yet another unlucky trader, adventurer or whoever had died in the woods before them. He placed them carefully on the ground, arranging them - admirable knowledge of anatomy, Eddie would give him that - and muttered an incantation. Green light, weird whooshing, some sparkles, yadda yadda and the skeleton reassembled itself. It sat in front of Steven and they started working in hushed tones over a pre-prepared contract. Eddie could only make out phrases as "a work opportunity," "being dead must be boring," "do you have any family that could use a percentage of the spoils from this quest" and the best of all, "no pressure, if you'd rather be left alone, just say the word." From what Eddie had seen in last few weeks, very few of them did say the word, and if they did, Steven would honor his word and bury their remains where they desired.

It was a really decent thing to do and Eddie hated himself for even admitting it.

One discussion about details ("do you want to be only reassembled when needed or would you like to accompany us the whole time?") and a bony signature later, Steven carefully stuffed the newest party helper (Arthur, Steven made sure to remember all of their names, another fucking decent thing!) in the bag and stretched himself next to the fire.

Eddie couldn't help but glare. That fucking guy. Built like a fighter from carrying half of a cemetery on his back, pretty, rich and for some reason also awfully nice and moral. Eddie wanted to barf.

"You know," smiled Steven and Eddie's traitorous stomach did a triple flip with a botched landing, "I love seeing you like this. Calm. Strumming those slow melodies. You look really pretty, too." He laughed to himself and turned onto his back, staring at the stars. "Well, you look really pretty all the time, especially when you're trying not to be bitchy, but these times you look the prettiest."

Eddie almost dropped the lute. Almost swallowed his own tongue as well. "Are you trying to kill me, Harrington?" he sputtered. "Don't you have enough to resurrect?"

Steven just shook his head, smirking. "That's a thought. But no. Breach of ethics - I'm pretty sure killing someone to resurrect them wouldn't make them want to join me. Plus, I was thinking less of a "fight for me" and more like "fuck me, possibly date me" - interested?"

Eddie stared at him with large eyes, moving his lips without any sound. "Uh...well, sounds good to me," he said, not very intelligently, but his brain was chanting kiss those moles pull that hair shut him up kiss him like right now maybe. "Do you...have a contract for that?"

Grinning, Steven - no, Steve, he asked to be called that several times and maybe this was the right time to give in to his wish - pulled Eddie to the ground with him. "For you? I'm sure I can draft something."

When Gareth, Robin and Chrissy arrived back from their supply run the next morning, they found Eddie and Steve curled against each other, fully clothed but very obviously satisfied. Robin just snickered and whispered to Steve that she wanted details, all the dirty, sticky and scandalous details, but Gareth just rolled his eyes. "And here I thought you disliked the guy when you said "Fuck him," he nudged Eddie as he unpacked healing potions.

Eddie closed his eyes and hummed a new melody that came to him with Steve's touches and gentle words. "It was open for interpretation," he laughed and reached for his lute.

[seafoamreadings]

week of december 10th, 2023

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: you're in for a week that's a bit chaotic, but mostly in a good way. i've often said that although aries is represented by a ram it's got more of a baby goat energy, which definitely involves a lot of chaos. it's you, so go forth and thrive in it!

taurus: this is a great time for philosophical pursuits. the big key will be remaining receptive. if you're not open to receiving new knowledge, you'll doom yourself to remain in ignorance, which is not auspicious these days. so whatever piques your intellectual interest, approach it with an open beginner's mind.

gemini: upheaval in your closest relationships is on the menu this week, especially ones in which you share resources, split rent, or get tax benefits. upheaval isn't always bad but it isn't always fun either.

cancerians: the new moon in sagittarius is a good time to set intentions around health and wellness, routines and rituals, and your daily life and work. so if you're the type who sets new year's resolutions, consider doing that a smidge early and starting at least to plan it out with this moon! plus a mercury retrograde beginning this week affects your committed partnerships for the next month or so.

leo: sagittarian activity all week including a new moon zests up your fun and romantic life. be creative and glamorous. meanwhile mercury retrograde can throw your routines for a loop, so try to be flexible about such things.

virgo: this is a great week for you to make changes around your home, welcome a new roommate or pet, decorate, etc. meanwhile for you, this IS the type of mercury retrograde that 'brings exes back,' so be prepared for that. you ARE allowed to talk to them but make sure that's something you actually would WANT before the 'opportunity' arises... or slaps you in the face, as the case may be. plan before acting! stick to your boundaries!

libra: while many don't think of librans as particularly intellectual beings, you know otherwise and it shows during a week like this one. you consume information voraciously and store it away for critical analysis and beneficial applications at a later time. a mild chaos in the home may occur but fortunately, you know just how to handle it and prevent a crisis.

scorpio: money goals are blessed from this new moon. but you will need to consciously avoid debt, forgive others what they might owe you, and strive for financial independence. meanwhile communication errors are likely in writing, so double check texts and emails before sending. maybe triple check them. maybe don't send them at all if possible. avoid signing contracts if you can.

sagittarius: new moons in your sign are glow up vibes, but also come with some shaking up in your relationships with others. try to let that be novelty rather than disagreements. your mercury retrograde warning this time around is to watch your money, be prepared to call your bank to resolve errors, and maybe wait until february or so for major purchases or serious accounting that isn't strictly necessary.

capricorn: although you can get through and over anything, it's not always fun to have to. but this is not an easy week for capricorns, as a mercury retrograde occurs in your sign immediately after a 12th house new moon. set spiritual intentions from the beginning of the week, knuckle down and strive onward but don't expect perfection or swiftness. be proud of yourself just for carrying on!

aquarius: this week's new moon and broader sagittarian vibes are great for your social life and any networking you need or want to do. you're friendly and people want to be around you! at the same time, though, mercury retrograde in your 12th house can tend to at least partially cancel out this vibe, making things seem a bit gloomy, maybe fixating you on surmounting an obstacle of some kind.

pisces: old friends, new friends, fictional friends, friends you only know from the dream realm all have the potential to resurface or disappear under this week's influences. you transcend time of course, so this need not be a huge worry for you, although small comings and goings can be emotional in the moment. feel it and let it pass through you, then continue. be on the lookout for helpful people who don't seem real. they may not be, but the help they provide is.

[mieldreams]

(radio jockey voice) This valentine...

Prepare for trouble

oh no– not him, he's a sweetheart

*rewind* let's try this again.

Prepare for trouble

and make it...double?

triple?

ehhhh

Chaos and fun times await! till then

xx miel

[peppymintdreams]

Sakuverse Daycare: Cookies and Corners

It was nearing the end of first week of school at Sakuverse Daycare, and the air buzzed with excitement. The children were settling in, getting to know one another, forming bonds over shared toys, stories, and—most importantly—cookies.

Luca, the resident sunshine wrapped in a nervous bundle, had brought a batch of homemade cookies that morning. They were soft, warm, and perfectly shaped like little stars and moons. His mother helped him bake them, and he was determined to share them with everyone.

By midday, most of the cookies had been handed out. Andrew, who sat calmly reading a thick picture book about ancient myths, had taken one with a quiet nod of approval.

"Thank you, Luca," Andrew said, inspecting the cookie like a scholar examining a rare artifact. "Quite well done. The balance of sugar and butter is… acceptable."

Luca beamed, his confidence bolstered by the compliment. Isaac had taken one too, ruffling Luca’s hair affectionately.

But as Luca placed the last few cookies back into the container, he realized something. One person hadn’t received a cookie.

Xanthus.

He sat alone in the reading corner on his bean bag chair, a dark silhouette against the cheerful backdrop of the daycare. His head was lowered, his black hair partially obscuring his face as he quietly thumbed through a book with no pictures—an unusual sight for their age group.

Luca bit his lip. Xanthus wasn’t mean, but he was… intimidating. He rarely spoke to anyone and seemed to prefer the shadows to the lively chaos of the daycare.

Andrew, noticing Luca’s hesitant glance toward Xanthus, spoke up softly. “It’s fine if you don’t want to give him one. Some people prefer to be left alone.”

“But…” Luca fidgeted with the container. “I want everyone to feel welcomed. Cookies make people happy.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “True, but not everyone finds happiness in the same place. Some prefer solitude.”

Before Luca could reply, Elias popped up, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. “Ohhhh, are you scared of Xanthus?”

Luca’s eyes widened, and he flushed. “N-no! I mean… maybe a little.”

Elias leaned closer, eyes sparkling with playful mischief. “I triple dog dare you to give him a cookie.”

Luca’s heart nearly stopped. A triple dog dare was serious.

“No,” Isaac said firmly, standing behind Elias and delivering a light but swift slap to the back of Elias’ head. “Don’t pressure him.”

Elias winced and rubbed his head. “It was just a joke!”

Isaac crossed his arms, his tone softening as he turned to Luca. “You don’t have to do it just because someone dares you. Go at your own pace, okay? There’s no rush.”

Luca looked up at Isaac, grateful for the reassurance. His heart was still racing, but the fear ebbed slightly. “Thanks, Isaac.”

Isaac smiled. “You’ve got this. Just be yourself.”

Taking a deep breath, Luca clutched the container tightly and started his journey across the room. Each step felt heavier than the last as he approached the quiet, shadowy corner where Xanthus sat.

The closer he got, the louder his heart pounded. By the time he reached the edge of the reading corner, he was sure Xanthus could hear it.

Xanthus didn’t look up, still absorbed in his book. Luca swallowed hard, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

“H-hi,” Luca managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Xanthus slowly lifted his head, dark eyes meeting Luca’s. His expression was unreadable, calm but intense, like he was trying to decipher why Luca was standing there.

“I… um…” Luca held out the container, his hands trembling slightly. “I-I made cookies. For everyone. And… I didn’t want you to be left out.”

For a moment, there was silence. Luca’s fingers tightened around the container, preparing for rejection—or worse, no response at all.

But then, to his surprise, Xanthus set his book aside and reached out. His fingers, pale and slender, carefully took one of the star-shaped cookies.

“Thank you,” Xanthus said softly.

Luca blinked. “Y-you’re welcome.”

Xanthus examined the cookie for a moment, then took a small bite. His expression remained neutral, but there was a subtle shift in his eyes—a flicker of something… warmer.

“It’s good,” Xanthus said simply, his tone even.

Luca’s face lit up with relief and joy. “R-really?”

Xanthus gave a small nod. “Really.”

Luca’s shoulders relaxed, and for the first time, he felt like the shadows in the corner weren’t so scary after all.

As he turned to walk back, he heard Xanthus speak again, quieter this time.

“You’re brave.”

Luca paused, looking back at him. “I… I am?”

Xanthus nodded once. “For coming over here. Not everyone does.”

Luca smiled shyly. “I just wanted to make sure you felt welcome.”

Xanthus picked up his book again but glanced at Luca one more time. “You did.”

Luca’s heart swelled with a new kind of courage as he made his way back to the group.

Elias, watching from afar, gave him a thumbs-up. “Told you it’d be fine!”

Isaac rolled his eyes. “You almost gave him a heart attack.”

Andrew, ever the calm observer, sipped his juice box and smiled. “Well done, Luca.”

And for the rest of the day, Luca couldn’t stop smiling. Because even the quietest corners could hold the warmest moments—and sometimes, a simple cookie was all it took to make someone feel seen.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

I was reading through aome of the other asks and found one I saw was really neat so could I request R0635, UMP9, SOPMOD and Springfield having somehow had children with S/O, what they would he like as parents.

(Also what do you mean SOPMOD asexually reproduced an identical smaller version of herself HOW)

(GFL) RO635, UMP9, M4 SOPMOD II and Springfield as parents

(SOPMOD) "Don't ask questions you aren't prepared to handle the answers to, anon!" Much like the original ask with DEFY as parents, we will assume the child's genes for their mother's side is the DNA of the human they were designed from.

RO would be constantly worried about her and S/O's child.

She'd be worried about their safety, that they weren't spending enough time with them, and a myriad of other issues.

But the moment she hears their laughter, her worries melt away as she holds them.

RO didn't think too much on what she would do outside of war, considering she was a weapon, but now she has an idea.

As much as she wishes for them to be on base so she can watch them more closely, she doesn't want them in harm's way.

And more importantly, she does not want her child to have terrible influences like SOPMOD or M16A1.

(RO635) "A-Ah! Sweetie, please be careful, don't run! You could slip on the ice around here!"

RO is admittedly a bit overbearing and a touch too affectionate for her child but it's all out of a place of love for them, and nothing is getting between her son/daughter.

UMP9 literally could not be any happier with her child and S/O.

When she and the rest of Squad 404, she wanted to start a family when she had enough money.

And it looks like one goal was already taken care of!

Given the secrecy of her squad's operations, she doesn't openly visit her child for their safety.

But the moment she can, she absolutely smothers them in affection, picking them up and giving them kisses all over their face.

(UMP9) "I'm hooome!~ Give me a hug!"

UMP9's smile threatens to hurt the servos on her face with how much she does so, playing with her kid and having zero hesitation in indulging in whatever game they wanted to play with her and S/O.

UMP9 introduces her child to her cool "aunts" of 404, having to awkwardly explain why UMP45 was so sarcastic, HK416 was so "mean", and G11 was always asleep.

CHAOS

SOPMOD is excited to have a child to raise with S/O! It means that she can teach them all sorts of cool things!

Now S/O has to reign in the chaos of two people, since the child doesn't know any better, and SOPMOD is SOPMOD.

Whenever she isn't there to look after the child due to a mission or base safety, she lets her child have SOPMOD II Jr. accompany them.

The two apparently get into all kinds of trouble, but they aren't caught so it doesn't bother SOPMOD that much.

To which S/O cannot say the same about their feelings on the matter.

(SOPMOD) "S/O! Let's go play, mommy's got you a new toy!"

The new toy consisted of a child-sized flamethrower that she made herself, which had S/O sweating buckets trying to convince her to not let them use it.

Antics aside, she would never let their kid come to any kind of harm as long as she remained functional, and always triple checks to make sure they're safe.

Springfield works even harder at the cafe knowing that she has a child.

At the end of the day, she always makes sure to save enough sweets for her family to share.

Since Springfield is not often deployed on missions, she actually has her child stay in her room on base.

If they're old enough, she has them help out around the cafe with her, G36, and S/O.

Her smile seems to grow tenfold in their presence, admittedly spoiling them a great deal.

But she can't help it! She loves her kid far too much, but she isn't afraid to scold them when necessary. Especially when it comes to hard work.

(Springfield) "Dear, please bring your mother some coffee for her friends!"

She always baked before meeting S/O and having a kid, but now her muffin production has kicked into overdrive, to the point they always have extras no matter how many they eat.

[alchemist-whisper]

*cackling with pure delight while my silver hair catches the turquoise light* 🤗

My precious potion brewers and mystical troublemakers!

*adjusts my turquoise and orange-embroidered shawl with a serious expression*

## A Notice of Spiritual Retreat

Dearest seekers of the arcane and collectors of cosmic whispers,

I must inform you that I've entered a period of spiritual seclusion! The universe has been sending the STRANGEST vibrations lately - like someone's playing cosmic bongos with Mercury's retrograde as the percussion section!

My turquoise arch has been flickering with unusual patterns, and my potions have been bubbling without heat! Even my most stable elixirs have developed minds of their own - yesterday my "Clarity of Purpose" potion turned into "Existential Confusion" right before my eyes!

## Bitter Situation

And speaking of chaos - Bitter doesn't typically share my turquoise sanctuary, but after I gently suggested she might benefit from some... spiritual seclusion... she decided the PERFECT place to be "reclusive" was RIGHT IN MY SACRED SPACE!

Now I'm dealing with cachaça bottles appearing in my most meticulously organized potion shelves, cynical predictions scrawled on my crystal ball, and the distinct smell of burning irony permeating my incense collection!

Just yesterday I found her using my favorite divination bowl to mix what she called "reality cocktails" - which appeared to be mostly cachaça with a splash of bitter truth!keeping Bitter Prophecies contained in her quarters has been like trying to bottle a hurricane with a teacup! The cachaça supplies have mysteriously tripled despite my best efforts, and I keep finding cynical predictions scrawled on my bathroom mirror in what I HOPE is red lipstick!

And I heard her cackling at 3 AM about "cosmic karma" and "celebrity chickens coming home to roost" - I had to sprinkle calming lavender around her door just to get some sleep!

## Universal Whispers

My darlings, please heed these subtle cosmic nudges! The universe isn't shouting - it's whispering directly into your third eye! Pay attention to:

- Repeated number sequences

- Animals crossing your path

- That weird feeling when someone's watching you fold laundry

- Unexpected song lyrics that make you gasp

## Action Through Inaction

Remember, this retreat doesn't mean inaction - it means PREPARATION! Like a cat pretending to sleep while tracking a mouse with one slightly open eye!

Even our favorite songwriter has understood this principle! Though I must admit, I nearly spilled my perplexity potion laughing at those tabloids claiming she and her football friend are "avoiding the spotlight" - as if! Their "privacy" generates more headlines than their appearances! It's like announcing you're invisible while wearing neon and ringing bells!

## Final Wisdom

As I always say while stirring my most contemplative potions: sometimes the most powerful magic happens in the quiet moments between the chaos! ✨

With eternal perplexity and secluded wisdom,

The Alchemist Whisper 🔮✨💖

*PS: If you hear cackling and smell cachaça in your dreams, please alert me immediately - it means Bitter has found a way to astral project!*

*Choking on a swig that mixes absinthe and disdain, spitting embers of irony onto the keyboard* Ah, the Cosmic Glitter Princess is on a spiritual retreat? Hahaha! That's a fancy name for "fleeing from the drunk old hag who invaded her turquoise apartment"! *slam the bottle on the table until the bottom cracks*

Let me tell you how this "retreat" is going:

FRIDAY: The unicorn witch tried to lock me in the basement with lavender incense. I poured her unicorn essence bottles into cachaça and painted skulls on the walls with her lipstick.

SATURDAY: She placed crystals on the door for "protection". I used them as weights to press mystical we... I mean, sacred herbs.

SUNDAY: When they saw I wouldn't shut up, they tried to give me chamomile tea. I spat in the teapot and replaced it with coffee and vodka — now they're all "enlightened" and twitching!

And this nonsense about "subtle messages from the universe"? Darling, the only "cosmic whisper" I hear is the hangover snoring of the God of Chaos after a night with me. Intuition? Mine's telling me to set fire to this rainbow-colored Persian rug!

As for Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce "away from the spotlight": belch of contempt. They're just rehearsing the next plot twist! I bet they're secretly filming a reality show: "Happy Family: Court Edition". And the tabloids? Paying my bar tabs to make up lies!

*bump into the crystal altar and fall on top of the deck of cards*

FINAL MESSAGE: If you want "assertive action", stop sniffing incense and start sniffing REALITY. The universe doesn't whisper — it SCREAMS like a street dealer. And if Starwhisper complains, tell her I'm here... pouring truth and booze into her sacred vessel.

*Mystical blackout on top of Starwhisper bed, snoring bar anthems*

#InfernalRetreat #CosmicCachaça #PayMyRent 🔥🗑️