#Egg Chairs Collections

[outdoorfurniturespecialist]

The Byron hanging chair is perfect for chilling out on the weekend or to unwind from a day's work. Generous in size & luxuriously comfortable cushioning

Source: https://www.baskoutdoorliving.com.au/collections/egg-chairs

[writtenbymoonflower]

how about

and hear me out

room mate! marauders who are obsessed with their shy roomate

oh trust me, hunny, i am hearing you. hope this is okay! shy gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: nothing really, just fluff, reader is very flustered

1.1k words

Your eyes were blurry as you shuffled into the sunny kitchen. You weren’t used to waking up to the curtains open and breakfast on the stove. You’d lived with people before of course, but none as lively as this bunch. You weren’t complaining, though, you were quickly warming to them, even though you had probably spoken a total of 50 words to your new housemates in the three weeks you had lived with them. Most of these words likely consisting of sorry, excuse me, thank you. 

They had been talking though. Ever since the day you met they had been treating you like their best friend. Not even that. They were all best friends. (Though you considered that wasn’t all, on more than one occasion you had caught Sirius with his head in James’ lap, or Remus’ legs swung over one of the other boys. You had also observed a fair number of kisses between the three boys). But rather, they treated you like something precious, like a porcelain doll they were begging to get a hold of.

That thought made you immediately think of the nickname Sirius (or ‘Pads’ as the boys occasionally called him) had stuck you with. 

“Hey, dollface! You sleep well?” The coal-haired boy looked like he was itching to beckon you under his arm, but resisted. You were thankful, not knowing if you could survive that.

“It was good.” You hummed, barely legible to James over the sound of his bacon sizzling. You padded over to the breakfast table, sitting one chair away from Sirius and his huge bowl of cereal. No sooner had you sat down when a steaming cup of coffee was placed in front of you by a spindly hand. 

“Here you go, dovey.” Remus sat in the chair between you and Sirius. 

“Oi, Moons. You’re blocking my view.” You turned in your chair to look behind you at the ‘view’ he was referring to, brows scrunching in confusion when all you saw was the archway. You heard a light chuckle from Remus and a snicker from Sirius as you whipped back around. The possible meaning dawned on you, making you his your heated face in your mug.

“Don’t torture the poor thing.” James scolded, giving a (what you were sure he believed was comforting) squeeze to your shoulder before he sat on your other side.

“I never tortured anyone.” Remus corrected from behind his morning paper, slowly eating a cup of berry-yogurt. “Collective punishment is a war crime, Prongs” 

“Leavin’ me to the wolves huh, Moons?” Sirius sassed, sipping on his coffee that was mostly just cream and sugar. 

“Oh trust me, I’m sure we all know how much you’d love to be left to the wolf.” James smirked, clearly in on a joke that you had no idea about. He abandoned his teasing to turn to you, fixing a horribly kind look that made your tummy turn to mush. “There is some bacon and eggs on the stove for breakfast, but I’m sure Sirius would let you into his cereal.” 

“There’s also yogurt.” Remus looked pointedly to his near-empty cup. 

“Oh no, I’m okay. I could never take your food. I’m not hungry anyway.” You muttered into your mug. 

“You’ve gotta eat somethin’ babydoll. Can’t have you skipping meals.” Sirius had a playful, if not protective tilt to his tone. 

“I’ll find somethin’ don’t worry.” You scrubbed your bleary eyes with irritated cadence, still on the brink of sleep despite the warm caffeine swirling in your system. Thick fingers wrapped around your wrist to pull your offending hand away. 

“Gentle, sweetheart.” James scolded lightly. “Gonna hurt yourself like that.” He squeezed your hand before letting it go but it felt oddly like your face and your lungs were being squeezed as well. If this was the boys normal, you weren’t sure if you were going to survive. 

You mumbled a sorry looking at the mahogany table like it held the meaning of life, or the extra hour of sleep you desperately craved. 

“What’ve we told you? You say sorry too much, sweet thing. It’s like, your favorite word or something.” Sirius laughed, slurping down his cereal milk and licking his chops. You bit back another apology and rubbed your eyes again, though much more gentle this time. James cooed in sympathy. 

“You still sleepy?” He rubbed your back again, which made you both more heated and more drowsy. 

“Yeah.” You hummed, shamefaced as you played with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. You were thankful that you were still too shy to not wear long pants around them, because they would definitely be able to tell how tensed your legs were. Remus set his paper down.

“Do you have work today, love?” 

“No, ‘s my day off.” James grinned at that, but Sirius spoke up. 

“Happy coincidence! It’s ours too.” He grinned. “How about we all watch something? We can put something on in the lounge room and you can catch a bit of sleep on the settee?” He suggested. You shrunk at the thought of sleeping in front of them, but weren’t opposed to the idea.

“We’ll make sure to wake you up so you don’t sleep the day away.” James added, still rubbing your back. You were easily convinced. 

“Okay, that does sound nice.” Barely above a whisper. 

“We can all have a big lunch when you get up, too. Maybe we could go out?” Remus suggested as he led you gently to the living room. You tried to make your way to the armchair, but you were tugged to the couch. 

“That won’t be comfy, dollface. Here you go.” Sirius sat on the settee close to one arm, Remus by the other. Sirius pulled you between them while James sat on the floor and you whined in protest. 

“No, I’ll move. You sit here, James.”

Remus swore that was the loudest he had ever heard you speak. 

“No, I’m good right here. Thanks though, sweetness.” James reassured. He was sat in the middle, though rather close to Remus so the mousy boy could reach out with one hand and scratch James’ scalp, roving his long fingers through the thick curls. You were so distracted that you were startled when Sirius tugged on you again, maneuvering your head onto a pillow that laid on his lap. You tensed before relaxing into his warmth. You tucked your legs into yourself as Remus covered you with a blanket before going back to loving on James. 

“There you go, baby. That feel nice?” Sirius said, unfamiliarly soft as he stroked your hair, hand a welcome warmth on your scalp. 

Baby. Baby. Baby.

It would surprise you if you woke up from this nap. Your heart had nearly stopped on the spot.

[deadghosy]

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

JELLYFISH! READER X HAZBIN HOTEL

Prompt: A sea creature wants to bring light in hell. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆｡˚

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚ you died while being an oceanographer. You studied the ocean for its plant and creatures. You drowned specifically while trying to push a jellyfish away from you. And honestly, you went to hell becoming a flowing beautiful jellyfish.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Charlie welcomed you with opened arms, she liked how beautiful you are. The way you flow in the air, you were eye catching and majestic

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚jellyfish! reader is a Mitski, grimes, and tv girl fan of music. I think it fits their vibe at how peaceful but dangerous they are with their stingers.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚imagine how your human form would look. Jellyfish hair cut with the colors of the blue from your og form with some pink and purple. Or like blue and light blue. You would be an actual main attraction to the hotel.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you probably did get mistaken to get sent to hell instead of Heaven. You were beautiful like a heaven angel, but you were in the depths of hell. Surprisingly the hotel was a safe haven for you.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚a beautiful creature like you gain the attention of many to the hotel. You could say that you are the main attraction. And Charlie doesn’t use you like that, but she does make you a resident to get into heaven.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚vaggie finds you calming. You have this type of aura around you that just makes people relax. So your hotel room is specially designed to your liking. Which is a dark blue wall with a glowing blue that has ocean waves. It’s basically jellyfish’s en ocean designed. It’s just so magical.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you love floating around as keekee would follow you around. Then you would have the egg boiz following you plus fat nuggets. You just collected your own little band of little people.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚husk doesn’t know much about you in the hotel other than you are practically the princess/prince of the water in hotel. You make sure the water is okay as it’s your duty.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you once had made water appear. You had guess you have water power based on you drowning. And using that power, you soaked husk who started to go crazy almost scratch angel dust in irritation. 

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Lucifer admires your colorful being. Like he may seem as if he doesn’t care about you. But he sorta does as he secretly makes you a jellyfish toy that lights up in the dark.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚alastor, he might as well try to see what you are. He still senses a human soul in which makes him want to get your soul. A human souls is rare than a disgusting sinner’s soul. But you sting him every time he tries to even get close.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you once accidentally stung Alastor with your stingers. He oddly didn’t lash out at you, but rather just walked away. He was trying to hold on the stinging pain you gave him.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚sir Pentious found you alluring even. Frank and the rest of the egg boiz agree. Frank once called you mom/dad since you were singing him a lullaby.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚imagine how crazy you can be. Like one day you are the calming person every one loves and knows in the hotel. And next thing people know is that you are stinging people just because they breathed the wrong way around you.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚luckily you are a passive aggressive person sometimes. Or else you would be frying people like bacon. EXTRA CRISY‼️

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚angel dust dead ass thinks you should have a cute blue ocean crown or necklace. Maybe even a cute blue with purple star car. Bro he’s thinking of so much ways to make you girly pop.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you could’ve had shocked angels, and I mean literally cause if it was the battle between hell and heaven. You would win lmao. Cause what if you shocked then hoes into an angel kebab

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚headcannon on how your stingers is as powerful like the jellyfishes in SpongeBob. You area full electric chair.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚vox had a whole board about who tf were you. Legit was giving crazy science man vibes cause how tf is a jellyfish in hell?! You don’t even look demon! You dead ass don’t fit the hell palette. As he is making theories, Valentino and Velvette just stare at each other like “wtf is this?”

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚now say you did went to heaven. Everything would probably be different, but you are something no one had seen before. A jelly fish angel? Yeah that seems unique.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Heaven would admire your original look. Your calming energy makes most of heaven better. Like say for example the angels complement each other with the light of your energy and how your energy flows. You basically have a pheromone, but it’s for positivity to be spread. #bethereasonsomeonesmiles LMAO

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Adam probably makes fun of how you are such a small sea thing creature. But then he switches up when you turn into your human form and start to sting his ass every time he tries to offend you. Fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚sera would possibly have you as a cherub cause of your small jellyfish form. It only makes sense for you to be one as you are so adorable.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Emily adores you. She knows you don’t mean any harm towards her with your stingers. She’s the type of person who makes you a flower crown cause she loves it be creative around people she likes. Honestly 10/10 friendship honestly.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚lute probably doesn’t care about you much. Other than your stingers are damn annoying. She just wants to rip them out, but you are is kind and sweet. So you have her vote to stay in heaven with her.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚headcannon on you just humming a soft lullaby as you swim in the air, your blue soft glow in the dark makes anyone go to sleep. The blue is pretty alluring.

A/N: I tried a different writing style with the “bullet points” I hope you guys like this lol and sorry if it seems lazy.✨ inspired by: @selvyyr <3

[skelly-words]

Tentacles.. we have blue we have pink, what if one fucks our ass and the other our meow meow

(Bring your tentacles to work day request)

Ignore if u want but ILY and marry me 💍

I've been neglecting my account so bad, but you forgive me, right? <3<3<3

NSFW minors dni please

Anywayyyy, this is short, but I was thinking about using pink and blue at the same time. You're only supposed to bring the pink one to work. It cups your pussy so you can grind on the textured tendrils without making a mess of your office chair. But what's the harm in trying both?

It's the last step of your morning routine. Trying to fit the base of both tentacles in your ass at the same time is stretch, but the fat plugs are stuffed into place anyway. The slender blue appendage slips up and down your slit. The juices drooling from your cunt mix with the blue opalescence lubrication coating the tentacle. You watch with a whine as it stuffs itself inside you, writhing and wriggling to fit just right. It never stops moving like it can't get comfortable, and the constant twisting in your guts makes your legs a little weak.

Then the thick pink tentacle latches onto you. The lace of your panties covers it so neatly, almost looking modest when spit isn’t collecting at the corners of your lips. The little feelers bully your swollen clit, meanly pinching on the bud while you grab your purse and walk out the door.

It feels so good to have something to keep you full. Every bump on the bus ride fucks the squirming blue tentacle deeper. And you don't have to worry about your sloppy pussy leaving a gross mark on the seat.

The pink tentacle soaks you up so greedily, waiting for you to be ready to take its squishy little eggs. You have no idea how it's all gonna fit. The walk from the bus to your office building is short, and you make it to your desk before finding out. Your hips rock back and forth on the chair to rub the knot of pulsing blue into your g-spot. Little pink feelers tug at your clit. It's hard not to moan, and you have to bite on your palm to keep quiet.

You whimper as the sticky eggs get released, crammed into your cunt with the slender blue tentacle. Your poor hole is so stuffed full that you can hardly twitch and tighten when you cum. The pink tentacle pushes more and more eggs into you as the tiny tendrils clean up all your juices.

It stops after that, as if knowing not to overstimulate you too much. There's a long day ahead of you, so the little monsters are content to keep you stuffed up and grinding on the attentive feelers. Maybe the blue one will cum in you later, hopefully the eggs don't get fertilized 🤷‍♀️

And the best part is, still no mess.

These are so fun to write, like the perfect mix of silly and horny. I luv the support everyone is being so nice to me here

[illyrianbitch]

What Lies Between Us

Pairing: Reader x Modern Detective! Azriel

Summary: Azriel has spent years trying to escape the ghosts of his past, retiring into a self-imposed exile despite a promising career as a talented detective. When you turn up at his door asking for help on a recent case, his world is disrupted.

Warnings: angst, outrunning memories, brief allusions to crime, details of injury, horrible yearning and longing tbh

Word Count: 3.4k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel let out a sigh as he fumbled for his keys, juggling a bag of groceries in one hand. The weight of it grew heavy, and he clenched his jaw in focus as he finally pushed his door open, blindly reaching for the lightswitch on his wall. 

A soft meow greeted him at his feet. Azriel glanced down to see Shadow, his black sleek fur gleaming under the light, weaving affectionately between his legs. Shadow's green eyes flicked up briefly before he leapt gracefully onto a bar stool and then the counter, nose twitching as he inspected the grocery bags Azriel placed down. He pulled back, seemingly unimpressed.

Azriel’s therapist was insistent that more greens would be beneficial in easing his anxiety. He said nothing about its relation to his nightmares, but Azriel didn’t have high hopes regarding whether broccoli could treat years of insomnia. Slowly, he pulled groceries from the bags, one by one. He almost snickered at the contents of his fridge— a few shelves now stocked with freshly bought produce, a carton of eggs, orange juice, butter, and a pack of beer. He shut the door. 

There were a few birthday cards on his fridge, held on by various traveling magnets he’d collected over the years. One card was from his mother, the words “sweet boy” staring back at him, written with a heavy hand and adorned with hearts she delicately drew. The others were from his friends, a stupid one from Cassian, a sweet one from Mor, even Elain had gifted him one— and an invitation to her wedding. 

He hadn’t gone. 

But you had. He knew this from the pictures Feyre had posted on Instagram.

Not that he was checking. He deleted Instagram soon after.

Azriel's gaze lingered on the cards. There was one missing, and his fingers traced the place it used to be, where he had stuck it for a week before he realized he couldn’t handle looking at it every morning as he made breakfast. That card was tucked away in his bedside drawer now. He saw it every night, instead. 

He let out a deep sigh, running his hands along his face, fingers brushing against the stubble that had begun to grow already. 

He had planned to cook a healthy meal tonight, to take his new prescription and finally attempt to get a good night's sleep. But the thought of chopping vegetables and cooking felt exhausting. He pulled out a beer.

The cap nicked his thumb as he twisted it off, but he barely registered the sensation, quickly drawing the neck of the bottle to his mouth. He greedily swallowed down the cheap contents and moved towards the living room. Shadow padded after him, tail flicking in curiosity, a step behind every move Azriel made.

His apartment was empty, save for a few decorations and his heavily decorated bookshelves. Two of the chairs in his living room were still new, and the smell of brand new leather clung to them heavily, making the entire room reek of a department store. Azriel’s apartment wasn’t a home. It was a place filled with furniture. Besides those cards on his fridge, not much hinted at any sign of a life well lived. 

Except the vinyl collection he now stood before. 

His collection was meticulously organized, spanning decades of music. Some were torn, tattered at the edges where he’d picked them up at vintage shops, others brand new from gifts he’d been given. 

Azriel selected a record. Its cover was worn and bent at the edges from drunken nights trying to carefully shove it back into its place. A classic rock album, the kind that filled the silence with powerful guitar riffs and soulful vocals— one of his favorites.He slid it from its sleeve, handling it with the care it properly deserved, and placed it on the turntable

Azriel wasn’t a flashy man, never one for fancy possessions, but this collection was his pride. The turntable itself was one of the nicest things he owned, if not the nicest. He cherished it, admired it every time he came into the living room. As the needle found its place, the familiar crackle precluded the strong, evocative notes of the electric guitar, filling the room with a warmth and soul that pulled a deep,weary sigh from his gut. 

Shadow brushed against Azriel’s legs again, and his eyes fell at the touch, gaze falling on his guitar propped against the wall.  A wave of sadness ran through him. Azriel approached it, running his fingers along its neck, along the dust that had gathered on top of it. The strings resisted against the scars on his fingertips.

He took a step back, grabbed his beer, and made his way towards the balcony. 

The rush of cold night air offered a welcoming reprieve from the stifling stillness of his apartment. The chill bit at his skin, but he didn’t mind. It reminded him that he was still alive, still capable of feeling something other than biting numbness, suffocating guilt.

The city buzzed below. Azriel was never a fan of New York. The city was loud, crowded, and full of distractions that made it hard for him to find the quiet he craved. He felt disconnected from it all, from the hums of life and sounds of cars. He’d never felt as lonely as he did recently, surrounded by hundreds of people. Taking another sip of his beer, he let the music wash over him, the rich melody pouring out into the open air. 

Azriel was only two songs in before there was a sudden knock on his door. 

He frowned and waited a minute for them to go away. Another knock followed, more insistent this time. Grumbling, he turned around and headed to the door, placing his beer on the counter.

"Damnit, Rhys,” Azriel called out, hand reaching out to pull his apartment door open, “I told you I didn't want to—" 

Azriel’s words died in his mouth as he opened the door, feeling a rush of emotions flood him all at once—relief, shock, and a hint of something else he couldn't quite name.

You were as beautiful as the last time he’d seen you, at that family dinner where he’d done his best to avoid you. Your skin was tan now, a sun-kissed glow that Azriel quickly deduced was from the recent trip you’d taken with Mor and Feyre. You’d gone to Belize, and while Feyre was gone, he and Rhysand had taken a trip upstate, stayed at a small place Rhys owned. Rhys was smart enough to not bring you up throughout the week, but Az still saw all the pictures Feyre had sent him— pictures that included you beaming at the camera, drink in hand and those pink vintage sunglasses you’d bought at a flea market three years ago.

"Y/N," he breathed out, voice barely above a whisper.

“Hi, Azriel,” you said, voice steady and soft, sweet like honey. It dripped down his skin and made him melt. His hand fell lax against the door handle. You gave him a small, almost unsure, smile. “I need your help.” 

Azriel’s brows furrowed, gaze scanning your features for a moment. There were dark circles under your eyes— and your eyes, your eyes themselves seemed sad. Troubled. His stomach twisted into itself. You held his gaze for a moment before you were clearing your throat, shaking your head as if breaking the connection. 

“Can I come in?”

Azriel blinked. “Of course,” he finally replied, pulling the words from deep out of his chest. He gave a smile as he stepped aside and gestured for you to come in. “Please.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

It was strange to be so close to you, to watch as you gingerly took off your coat and draped it over one of his barstools. Azriel’s eyes traced your form before him— the bend of your spine as you leaned over, the jewelry on your wrist, the boots that you wore.Even with your back turned to him, Azriel knew you. Something was deeply troubling you. There was an evident tension in your body, in the way your shoulders moved, in your shallow breaths. 

His gaze lingered on your waist for a moment, on the way your body curved below your hips. He shook himself out of the daze, suddenly embarrassed and shameful. 

His eyes fell to the ground, where Shadow now mewed and rubbed against your legs. You looked down at the contact, letting out a small laugh. Shadow wasted no time before jumping onto the kitchen island, nudging against your arms affectionately.

Azriel moved quickly, scooping Shadow up and setting him back on the ground. “Sorry about that,” he murmured.

“It’s okay,” you replied, a soft smile still playing on your lips. It was unsure— wary, even. The realization made Azriel’s stomach sink. He looked down at where Shadow was pressed against you once more.

Azriel’s eyes met yours, a flicker of something tender passing between you as he quietly said, “He missed you.”

Your gaze softened. A silence followed. It was heavy, but no longer uncomfortable. “I did too.”

The words hung in the air, filling the space between you with a warmth that neither of you dared to acknowledge fully. Azriel pushed away the thoughts in his mind that began to wonder if your words were meant for him, if you had missed him. He cleared his throat.

“What brings you by?”

You blinked, breaking the stare you were holding. “Right,” you said. You quickly turned back to your bag, fumbling slightly as you pulled out some papers and folders, gently placing them on the counter. 

You flipped one of the folders open, saying nothing as you glanced at Azriel before casting your eyes down at the papers before you. You took a deep breath.  “I need your help with a case.”

Azriel took a step forward, eyes glossing over the papers before him. He tightened his jaw. “You’re not supposed to be showing me these.”

He could get in trouble for being exposed to such sensitive information— and you, you were risking your career being here. 

“I know,” you replied. 

Azriel leaned forward, setting into a stance next to you. He ignored the way his skin prickled at the close proximity, instead placing a finger on the papers, pulling them closer to him. He frowned, brows furrowing as he took in the details. He casted a side glance at you.

You were already looking at him, a crease between your brows as you pressed your lips into a thin line.  

“Y/n,” Azriel murmured, “I’m not sure how I can be of any use.”

“Just hear me out,” you pleaded, moving closer to tap a finger on the papers. “They’re following a pattern. I need to get ahead of it. I’m stumped and you used to be great at these cases.”

Azriel’s frown deepened. “Is it a copycat?”

You paused. Azriel missed the flicker of hesitation in your eyes before you nodded. “Yeah, a copycat.”

He let out a contemplative hum. “Who?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, taking a step back as you remained quiet. Your silence was pronounced enough for Azriel to stiffen. He turned around slowly. His eyes gave away the question that was seated on the tip of his tongue. You nodded. 

Azriel stood still, his face hardening, but there was something in his eyes that looked awfully like fear, something in his gut that felt awfully like shame— like regret. He took a deep breath.

“I can't help you.”

Your shoulders slumped. “Azriel-”

“Y/n, I can’t help you,” He repeated, the words falling from his mouth like a practiced mantra of self-denial. “Request the files you need, talk to Cassian. He knows it just as well as I do.”

Azriel curled his hands into fists. He attempted to ignore the stone that sank in his stomach at the name of his friend, of his brother. Cassian. As if sensing his distress, Shadow mewed softly, weaving between Azriel’s legs.

“That is not true and you know it,” you retorted. There was a heavy sense of frustration that seeped into your voice, one that dripped from every word you said. You could feel the tension thickening the air, suffocating the space between you and Azriel. 

He remained silent, his gaze fixed on a point somewhere beyond your shoulder. The stubborn set of his jaw made you falter further. You took a deep breath, lowering your voice to one much softer, much smoother. Azriel nearly melted at it, nearly found himself apologizing for everything he had done.

“I’ve requested access, I can talk to Cassian. But we both know you know things even I don’t. You kept meticulous records.”

“I-”

"Please," you interrupted, your voice pleading. "Az.”

Azriel’s expression softened, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. He let out a small sigh and then he offered you a nod. His steps were measured, deliberate, as he turned and made his way down the small hallway, the echoes of his footfalls filling the quiet space. 

His bedroom was just as empty as the rest of the apartment, and his gaze flickered to the bedside table as he passed. He stilled for a moment, feeling another heavy wave of sadness wash through him. Another second passed before he pulled his mind away, forcing himself to walk into his closet. 

It took a few moments of pushing aside boxes and clothing before he found it, running his hands along the small safe tucked away in the back wall. With a practiced hand, he dialed the combination, the soft click of the lock releasing echoing in the room. The door opened gently, revealing its contents—a sleek handgun nestled among a jumble of items, including a worn leather journal and a stack of notes. Brushing his hand over the cold metal of the gun, Azriel reached for the journal, its worn cover familiar beneath his touch. Tucking it under his arm, he closed the safe with a sense of finality.

Returning to where you stood, Azriel found it difficult to meet your gaze again, opting to keep his eyes trained on the journal in his hand and Shadow at his feet. He wasn’t sure if it was just him that suddenly felt so smothering, or if there was something in the air that made it hard for him to breathe. 

He offered you the journal with an extended hand. For a brief moment, your fingers brushed against each other. A familiar warmth ran through Azriel’s body and he resisted the urge to recoil from the intensity of it alone. 

His hand stayed in the air for a moment, suspended in the moment of your touch. You glanced down at his palm, eyes drifting to his bare ring finger. Your eyes softened and Azriel followed your gaze, immediately pulling his hand back and shoving it into his pocket.

“Thanks,” you murmured, turning around to place it on top of your bag. You kept your back to him for a moment, and Azriel traced the curve of your spine with his eyes, watched how you placed two hands to brace yourself on the counter as you sighed. You slowly turned around.

“Azriel-”

The glint in your eyes told him where the conversation was bound to lead. He cut you off as fast as he noticed. “I can’t.”

You deflated, shoulders falling slightly as your gaze danced across his face. “You didn’t even let me speak.”

“I know what you’re going to say,” he said softly. He shifted on his heels, shoving his hands further into his pockets. “I can’t get involved. This is all I can do.”

“Alright,” you finally replied, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth as you absentmindedly nodded your head. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no.” He took an instant step forward, hand naturally flying out to touch your arm. He realized his movement before he made contact, letting his hand fall awkwardly at his side. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I better get going.”

Please don’t.

“Yeah.”

Please stay. 

As you started to gather your belongings, slipping the journal into your bag and pulling your jacket on, Azriel's gaze remained fixed on you. His heart lurched painfully in his chest as you reached for your jacket and pulled it on, your shirt hiking up to reveal the beginning of a jagged scar along your abdomen. He deflated, casting his eyes to the ground. A wave of self-loathing washed over him and he clenched his hands at his sides, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip.

It wasn’t until you were opening his front door that Azriel found the courage to look up, mustered the strength to meet your eyes.

“Y/n-” Azriel paused. His heart thudded loudly in his eardrums. He felt a faint tugging sensation in his chest, as if his body itself was screaming at him to get closer to you, to not let you leave. He swallowed down the selfish words he wanted to say, and instead offered you a wary, but warm, smile. “Be careful. This might just be a copycat, but they’re still as dangerous. I want you to be safe.”

“I know.” Something in your face softened, and you offered him a half smile. His eyes darted to the small dimple on your cheek. “I will be.”

You turned to leave, but no movement followed. Instead, you stilled, hand tapping on the handle before you turned around again. “It was nice to see you, Az.” 

He gave you a small, curt nod. His chest tightened. “You too, Y/n.”

“Take care of yourself.”

And then you were gone. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel sat on the couch, the soft hum of his chosen record filling the otherwise quiet apartment. His hand absentmindedly rubbed Shadow's head as he closed his eyes, allowing his thoughts to drift.

Weeks had passed since he last saw you, but you were never far from his mind. He had toyed with the idea of reaching out to you, of asking how things were going, but the thought was quickly dismissed. It was inappropriate on multiple levels. You weren't in each other's lives anymore, and he shouldn't have known about the case in the first place. So he resigned himself to living in his mind, replaying that night over and over, wondering if he should have asked you to stay, if he should have offered more help.

There was a knock at the door. 

Azriel jumped at it, head twisting over his couch to look at his entrance. He pushed himself up, lifting Shadow from his lap as he made his way to the door. The cat emitted a discontented sound as he settled back into a lying position.

His heart fluttered with anticipation as he made his way to the door, a small glimmer of hope now flickering in his chest. Could it be that his prayers had been answered? That you were here again, unable to stop thinking about him just like he couldn't stop thinking about you?

Azriel took a deep breath as he reached for the doorknob.

He prepared to muster up a smile, running greetings through his mind, knowing himself well enough that he’d stumble at seeing your face once more. But as he swung the door open, his face fell flat.

"Rhys.”

Rhysand offered him a smile, but it lacked its usual warmth, troubled lines etched into his features. His posture was tense, his shoulders squared. There was a stiffness to his stance, a subtle rigidity that made Azriel’s stomach drop. 

"What is it?" Azriel asked.

Rhys met his gaze, eyes filled with a darkened sense of worry. There was a glint of apprehension in his eyes, as if he were hesitant to speak. He swallowed.

"It's Y/n," Rhys finally said, "She's missing."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

this idea appeared to me in a dream and i had to write it... will it ever come to fruition? who knows??? but i do love a good haunting of the narrative.... az finding us....az being thrown back into a world he thought he left behind...... lord its such yummy angst

so lmk if you’re interested in being tagged in a part 2 :)

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen

azriel tag list: @thisiskaylin @serrendiipty

[halloweenbitch2764]

I am not sure if there is a limited number of characters. If so, just do the bachelors. If not, do both bachelors and bachelorettes.

If you do reactions/headcanons, a reaction to finding out how strong the farmer is would be amazing. I love the idea of the farmer from Stardew Valley being inhumane strong, but most of the towns people doesn't know it.

I will do my best! Also, you're dating in these just FYI. Heart event spoilers!!

Alex

You were hanging out with Alex outside of his house as you tended to

You had finished all your chores for the day already

"Want to take Dusty for a walk?" Alex offered since you two really weren't doing much else

You nodded, and Alex got Dusty's collar and leash from inside

When he came back out, you had already coaxed Dusty to the edge of the fenced-in area.

"Don't worry about getting him out, I got it." Alex stated but you were already leaning down

You supported Dusty as you picked him up and set him down outside of the fenced-in area

It didn't take much effort

Alex stared in amazement, collar and leash grasped in hand

"What?" You asked as you pet Dusty

"You're, like, super strong!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction

Sam

Sam had decided to come visit you while you were working on your farm

You still had some chores to finish up

Sam watched curiously as you did your chores

Feeding the animals, milking the cows, collecting eggs, etc.

A bale of hay sat in the corner of your barn

You decided to move it and hoisted it onto your shoulder, balancing it and carrying it somewhere new

It was just taking up space in the barn anyways

You didn't notice Sam who was watching intently

He didn't know how much the bale weighed but he could tell it wasn't something to scoff at

"Woah." He murmured to himself

Shane

You, Shane, and Jas were hanging out as you tended to do

It was a warm sunny day and you had finished most of the work on your farm

Jas had mostly been playing while you and Shane conversed

Jas had seemingly become bored and wanted some attention

You would have never assumed she liked attention as much as she did before you got to know her

She did seem like the quiet type

"Hold me!" She playfully demanded

And who were you to deny her?

"She's kind of-" Shane started

You picked her up with ease, hoisting her to your shoulders and balancing her

"-heavy..." Shane trailed off

He couldn't believe how easily you picked Jas up, much less tossed her around playfully

Even he struggled sometimes

You giggled at his reaction, and Jas giggled from the attention

"She seems pretty light to me." You teased, which caused Shane to blush

Harvey

You were hanging out with Harvey in the clinic while he finished up some work

He looked over at a piece of equipment and sighed

"What's wrong?" You questioned

"I just need to move that machine over a ways."

"I got it!" You volunteered, hopping up from the chair and going to the machine

"No, it's okay-"

"Don't worry about it Harvey, I'll be careful."

You knew he was worried about your well-being as per usual

He sat back down in his chair

"Just tell me where you want it."

You moved the equipment with ease, putting it where instructed

Harvey had a blush on his face, seemingly enarmoured by your strength

"What?" You questioned

"Just glad to see you're in good physical health." He waved his hand a bit

You internally giggled

Elliot

Elliot had decided to rearrange his furniture while you were over one day

He was struggling to push his piano over to the new spot

"Let me try!" You offered cheerfully

He seemed hesitant but nodded and stepped aside

You took your position and moved the piano to the new spot easily

It seemed effortless to Elliot

He was speechless

You saw the expression on his face and quirked your eyebrow

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing. Just didn't think you'd be able to move that so easily. That was quite impressive!"

You smiled, blushing slightly from the praise before waving your hand

"It was nothing."

Sebastian

You were hanging out with Sebastian at his house when Robin called for you

"I'm sorry to bother you, but can you help me move some of this wood?" Robin asked

You nodded happily and Sebastian followed you two, knowing he could help if needed

Not that he was particularly strong but he assumed it would be better than nothing

You easily lifted the wood (which was heavier than it looked) and moved it to the small pile that had been started

When you were done Robin offered to compensate you for your work but you told her it was okay

Sebastian was speechless

He knew you were strong, but you were stronger than he thought

"You're stronger than I thought you were." He complimented

You blushed and smiled

"Guess it's from working on the farm."

[sosa2imagines]

Dad Bucky ask.

An adventurous funny day with Bucky and his six months old boy? And when the his wife comes home from work, she's happy to see her boys fast asleep on the couch. Something like this?

Thank you for the ask, hope you like it.

Warning- Fluff.

As you step outside the house, you turn around to give your husband a playful peck on the lips, saying a light hearted comment, “Behave.”

Bucky laughs and replies, “Don't worry, I'll be a saint.”

You leave the house, a mixture of nervousness and excitement on your face. Bucky closes the door and turns to their six month old boy. He smirks mischievously, seemingly already planning some mischief for the day.

Breakfast was a delightful and energetic affair as Bucky joyfully planned out the day. With excitement in his voice, he turned to the six-month-old, saying, “Today, young man, we're going to have a blast! Mama told us to behave, and we will, but in our own unique way.”

The baby's joyful giggles filled the air as he hit his tiny, chubby fists against the high chair, mirroring his father's enthusiasm. Bucky chuckled warmly, captivated by his son's playful energy.

Over pancakes and scrambled eggs, Bucky outlined their agenda for the day.

First up, the music session.

Bucky's mischievous grin grew wider as he pulled out the pots and pans. He exclaimed, “Time to rock, my boy!”

As Green Day's “American Idiot” started blasting, Bucky sang out heartily and banged the pots with enthusiasm. The baby joined in, giggling and thumping along, enjoying the impromptu music session with his dad.

The neighbors likely heard the noisy yet joyful commotion and might have complained, but Bucky and his young son were too immersed in their own amusing and happy raucousness to notice or care.

Next, the spy mission.

Bucky, with his young son in his arms, picked up the binoculars and whispered to him, “Shh, buddy, we're on a secret stakeout.” He then positioned himself near the window, holding his son so he could peek through the curtains too.

Together, they observed their unsuspecting neighbors going about their daily lives, turning the seemingly mundane into a thrilling secret mission.

Bucky and his young son watched intently as their first target came into view, ‘Mrs. Johnson’ and her gardening endeavors. As Mrs. Johnson busied herself outside, Bucky whispered to his son, “Look at that, buddy. She's up to something.”

The baby babbled in agreement, as if sharing his father's intrigue.

After monitoring Mrs. Johnson's gardening, their attention turned to the next target, Mr. Thompson and his hat collection.

Bucky chuckled softly, a sly grin playing on his lips. He whispered to his son, “Next up, Mr. Thompson's hat collection. This ought to be good.”

The baby made a sound of excitement, as if already looking forward to the quirky sight they were about to witness.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as they focused on Mr. Thompson, who was now outside, sporting an extravagant hat. He shook his head, a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Look at that, buddy. That hat is something else.”

The baby cooed in agreement, seemingly mesmerized by the spectacle. The two continued their covert observation, entertained by the unusual fashion choice of their neighbor.

Bucky and his son observed the last target - the Rodriguez family enjoying their lively barbecue.

Bucky let out a low whistle, his interest piqued. He spoke to the baby in a conspiratorial whisper, “Looks like the Rodriguez family is having a party.”

The baby's response was a series of excited babbles, indicating he was all ears, metaphorically speaking.

As they continued their secret stakeout, Bucky couldn't help but whisper lighthearted commentary to his son. He chuckled as the baby cooed and gurgled in response, as if engaging in a secret conversation with his father.

As the afternoon wore on, their adventures exhausted them. Bucky settled onto the couch with his son, surrounded by toys and blankets.

As you entered the house after work, you were welcomed by a heartwarming sight.

On the couch, Bucky and their son were fast asleep, cuddled together in a peaceful slumber.

Bucky's protective arm cradled their six-month-old son, snuggled against his father's chest.

Looking at the peaceful scene, a soft smile graced your lips, feeling the warm fuzzy feeling of love for your little family spread through you.

You tiptoed closer, taking in the peaceful atmosphere. A smile spread across your face, this was happiness.

You gently kissed Bucky's forehead. “You're an amazing dad.” Bucky stirred, opening sleepy eyes, looking at you with a proud smile. “Best job in the world.”

Their son stirred, yawning, and snuggled deeper into Bucky's chest.

Your family's warmth enveloped you. In this moment, everything felt right with the world.

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan

@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles

@emerald-writes @caplanbuckybarnes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066

@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt

@unaxv @pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss

[circeyoru]

Collection of Overlords _ Part 1.5

[Alastor & Other Overlords x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 1.5 (here) — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9  — Part 10 — Part 11 — Part 12 — Part 13

Okay, I think this needs to be set clear before there are future parts since no one asked about Reader’s/your presence in the show was. While you never made a formal appearance until in Part 1, which is after the battle with Heaven, you were hinted here and there.

Pilot: 

The beginning scene where Carmilla opens the curtains, showing Zestial, Zeezi, and Lucifer in the same. Then the scene of the Vees, and Rosie. There are eyes staring at them. Like just eyes

When the clock tower resets the extermination day, eyes opened to eye the new countdown before closing just as fast

During when Vaggie talks about “ancient and destructive evils”, your outline as a puppeteer is shown above all the Overlords

Episode 1: Overture

N/A

Episode 2: Radio Killed the Video Star

Alastor laughs at Sir Pentious that seeking to join the Vees was a terrible decision since their standing as Overlords was rocky and unstable. He taunts that Sir Pentious wouldn’t be able to hold the title as Overlord or fit in, referencing the Collection of Elites

Episode 3: Scrambled Eggs

After Zestial and Alastor were done with their chat like on the show, Zestial remarks that Alastor was very brave to go missing for 7 years but also remarkable that he was still in the Collection as per the mark on his soul

When Overlords are seated, they inspect the others to make sure the group was still intact and without change. Also reporting that there was no sighting or word from you, to their disappointment

After Velvette left, Zeezi laughed that the Vees’ days might be numbered with that attitude, Rosie chuckles and shrugs, saying that it wasn’t their decision or say in the matter

When Whatever It Takes is done, Zestial suggests for Carmilla to contact you on the matter since this was out of her hands. Carmilla sit back down on her chair, holding out a pendant with an eye design on it

The Egg Boiz reported to Alastor that Carmilla was the one to kill the angel and that she may contact someone, telling Alastor that Carmilla might have someone to back her up without knowing that Alastor know who it was implying

The same Egg Boiz didn’t mention you to Sir Pentious and only Carmilla killing an angel

(behind the scenes: you instructed for Carmilla to continue as always and maybe provide help to the hotel if she deemed it worthy)

Episode 4: Masquerade

When Valentino is offering a place for Charlie to star, he mentions how it could make him rich and show his dues to you without specifically mentioning you. Valentino’s a bit condescending when he addresses Charlie because he only sees you to be the one in higher power and rank

Valentino threatens Angel, hinting how he wouldn’t have some weak Princess or contracted soul ruin things for him. Meaning he is aware that he’s on thin ice with your interest and favour. Also implying that Charlie was nothing for him to fear, because he fears your wrath more

Valentino laughs how Charlie has no real power compared to what he faced with, confusing Angel since he has no idea of your involvement in the Overlords’ circle

While Husk was mentioning about his Overlord status, for the first time you’re mentioned, he talks about The Collector. “But when you’re dealing with souls while also being a gambler, the stakes are pretty high. I was warned about that, but when you’re winning, you don’t hear that kinda stuff. In my place, I lose a few hands and it got dangerous that I didn’t even know. When you’re down on your luck, you turn to anything to keep you afloat. Even making deals yourself.”

“What happened?”

“Turns out, I was long abandoned. And I wasn’t in the group anymore when I have that last deal. Like the fallen Overlords before me, I was hunted for being disrespectful and arrogant. Now I’m here.”

Episode 5: Dad Beat Dad

“Big talk for someone who’s also on a leash.”

“I should have torn your soul apart and broadcasted your screams for every other disrespectful wretch who dares to abuse My Liege’s mercy and generousity! You were lucky your former Liege was merciful enough not to let your death happen.”

When Lucifer’s lecturing on Charlie about the hotel, he mentions how it lacks the power and authority needed to make it work. It’s referencing to you teaching Lucifer how to rule as the King of Hell when he first arrived

Episode 6: Welcome to Heaven

N/A

Episode 7: Hello Rosie!

(behind the scenes after Vaggie left, Carmilla grips on the pendant and hopes she did the right thing that wouldn’t disappoint you)

Episode 8: The Show Must Go On

The the Vees celebrate, they explicitly cheer for joy and anticipation that Alastor would be removed from the Collection of Elite while eyes were staring at them without their knowledge, also mentioning how they’d rise in ranks (favour)

Alastor’s breakdown is more centered around the possibility that he knew you were always watching and saw his defeat and shameful retreat, for his actions, he might fall from your interest and favour. He fears he’ll end up like Husk

When the news of the canceled extermination is being broadcasted to all of Hell, your silhouette was shown by a window with eyes closed and a small smile on your face. “Time to check in.”

Note: You can ignore this or not, but I had to at least put this out cause some Overlords' actions are a bit different, namely Alastor's breakdown reason.

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @plutobots @ray-rook

[drunkenkissesatdusk]

MORNIN’

pairings — jason todd x fem!reader

warnings — mentions of scars (tracing healed ones), talk of marriage, being a normal mundane couple, VERY domestic romance (i crave!!), mentions of having children but nothing actually happening!!

summary — moving from gotham into a more rural and quiet area was the best decision you two had made, because it turned out perfectly.

━━━━━━━ WAKING UP TO YOUR side empty was normal, but still scary, for jason. he knew you were safe, he could smell the breakfast you were cooking downstairs. still, a part of him forced him up. he continued the same routine he’d normally follow now that you’d moved from Gotham together.

your marriage solidified your hopes of leaving Gotham behind. finding the house was the final straw, and Jason jumped at the chance to buy the house. thank god he’d been adopted into a rich family, since neither of you two had to work.

occasionally, you had part time shifts at a bakery in the small town nearby. you loved it, and Jason loved coming in to see you with flowers. the longer you two lived out here, the less people that cared how Jason was related to Bruce Wayne.

your lives had become a very mundane manner, your stomachs filled with a consistent warmth that eased you into the knowledge of safety. Jason no longer kept a gun under his pillow — you agreed to him keeping it in the beside table.

downstairs, Jason met your face in the small soft yellow kitchen. you’d painted over the original white color, in hopes of creating a very fairy-like cottage. it was working out, and you spun around to face your husband.

“hey, Jay.” you extended your arms, gathering him into a soft hug. Jason smiled into your neck, spinning you around. he peppered your face with kisses, muttering a greeting into your body.

“hey baby.” he said.

“y’hungry? i made pancakes.” you motioned your head to the plate on the table. there sat a plate of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and fruits. Jason felt the warmth bubble, and an indescribable feeling of pure love towards you filled him. he didn’t know how else to explain it, he stared lovingly at you as you plated up your own plate, pouring two cups of coffee and handing one to your husband.

together the two of you fixed up your coffees before walking together to the rocking chairs on your back porch. there sat a small table between the two chairs, and you both set your things down.

you jogged back inside, turning on your guys’s favorite cd — a collection of love songs from the 60s. the familiar Skeeter Davis song flowed from the open windows, setting a calm mood over you two.

you both began drinking from your cups of coffee, as well as taking portions of your carefully prepared breakfast.

“i’ve been thinking, y’know.” you spoke after taking another sip of coffee. Jason looked up, intrigued. you met his eyes, hesitation crossing your features for a second — you never had to be afraid of saying anything to him.

“‘bout what?” he spoke, taking another bite of bacon.

“i think im ready, for a kid. i talked to my manager, i can get the time off when it happens.” you reached for his hand, and he happily took it. this statement by no means meant the two of you would try to rush it, you were both ready, and wouldn’t want to rush through this cherishing moment.

“really?” he was smiling brightly.

the rest of the day was spent relaxed in the bedroom you two shared, his head on your stomach and your hand crossing his back across every one of his old scars.

he didn’t mind, you wouldn’t cause them to reopen. ever since his old scars had died out, you noted how calm he was, how serene this entire portion of your life was.

“im so grateful. i love you so much.” you muttered, running your hands through his hair.

“i love you too, baby.” he rose up to kiss you gently, rubbing your jaw with his hand.

this was all you ever wanted.

masterlist — reminder that my requests / inbox is open

[hemlock-dreams]

PleSe may I ask for a tiny morsel of the written word depicting bartender Petey taking care of business when some customers get too rowdy? Saw the "80s theme" and immediately thought he'd look amazing tossing out the trash (ideally covered in blood cause can't make an omelets without breaking eggs but bartenders don't tend to break faces sadly)

Here yo go! Have a snippet from the upcoming Chapter 2 of Pick Your Poison!! Hope you enjoy!!

------------

Wade sees Baby Boy snatch a bottle that comes flying at him out of the air without looking. 

Damn, they threw the thing at mach speed, too. Wade’s got to hand it to the kid; those are some impressive reflexes. He follows the easy catch by spinning the glass with enough flair to make a schoolgirl swoon, setting it against the bartop like he’s the main character.

The jackasses in the back don’t even notice, hauling each other over the tables in a messy, drunken sprawl. Wade hasn’t seen this much fumbling since prom night.

It’s embarrassing. He should do Weasel a favor (and indulge himself) by shooting them in the legs for interrupting plans between Wade and his future paycheck. But the look of intense concentration on Baby Boy’s face is distracting. That’s the furrowed brow of a man who is about to fuck around and find out.

Boo. Three more days and Baby Boy would have passed the cutoff mark. 

Wade usually likes hedging his bets on the underdog for the thrill, but four against one is bad odds for anyone who isn’t Deadpool, even a civvie with so many tough-guy tattoos. 

“And he was this close to being the final girl,” Wade mourns performatively, sparing a glance at Weasel to gauge how the man is feeling about the prospect of watching his civilian pet project get snapped in half. But the asshole just looks vaguely amused, which piques Wade’s interest.

So he turns back around just in time to watch Baby Boy march right into fucking around territory, straight up walking toward the group of heavily-armed mercs, no weapons, no foreplay, no nothing– just moxie.

Damn. He’s stupid. Wade likes that in a guy.

“Hey,” Baby Boy says, wrapping a hand around the leg of one wooden chair as the one with a bad haircut raises it over his head. 

Their kerfuffle is interrupted as four extremely drunk mercs with more bullets than brains pause to reorient their attention on Baby Boy.

“You know the rules. Sit down, or take it outside,” He continues, tugging on the chair like he’s trying to take it from an unruly toddler. 

There’s a collective laugh from all four bozos as they forget their beef to unionize against a new, soft, and squishy target.

“Oh yeah?” The short one smiles, revealing a row of really ugly teeth. Wade’s fist immediately itches to plant itself into that mouth, just for offending his eyes like that. “Who’s going to make us, you?” 

The edge of Baby Boy’s mouth curves, “If I have to,” he says, and it can’t be mistaken as anything but a taunt.

Bold move, Cotton. 

The rest of the bar, normally oblivious to a few broken pieces of furniture and some blood, takes notice of the audacity. Wade can practically hear eyeballs turning and the collective bating of breath. 

“That’s cute. He thinks he can take us.” Bad Haircut snickers, drunkenly swaying into the conversation. He gives Baby Boy a once-over, expression turning lewd, “Then again, maybe he can…in one of the back rooms.” 

“He does have bigger tits than most of the girls here,” His unfortunate-looking friend leers, staring at Baby Boy’s admittedly mouth-watering chest. Motherfucker is tall and top-heavy, built like a linebacker, invading the kid’s space like he’s looking for a touchdown if you get Wade’s drift. “Got a pretty face, too. What do you say, sweetheart? Why don’t we go to the back and we can apologize to you real good.”

Baby Boy’s hand constricts halfway into a fist before he forces it to relax. He looks like he’s barely holding himself back, and coin flip on whether this is going to be very funny or very sad, but either way, Wade’s on board to be entertained.

“Yo Weasel,” Ugly Smile calls out, eyes locked on Baby Boy, lurid and alcohol-glazed, “You mind if we take your bar boy for a spin?”

His grin promises an unpleasant time, but Wade isn’t worried. Maggie’s is a shithole for sure, with morals looser than Wade’s jaw, but some things are still too far. Not that it keeps these loser shitheads from defaulting to it when they need to compensate.

“You break it, you buy it,” Weasel replies gamely. Which, dang, cold. Always nice to be reminded why Wade kind of likes the guy. 

Baby Boy’s mouth twitches into a smile, and Wade’s entire body goes on alert, “Take the chair out of my rent, then.”

Ready, set, action. An invisible hand slams the clapboard, and everyone bursts into motion.

The chair in question swings and misses. Baby Boy fluidly sidestepping both Bad Haircut and his buddy, grabbing the support and using the momentum to hook the wooden back over Linebacker’s neck, flipping the chair and twisting both mercs like puppets before sending them crashing to the floor. 

Bad Haircut is scrambling up, but Linebacker is pinned to the floor by his chair necklace, anchored by Baby Boy’s leg as he presses down hard enough to snap the wood and drive the remaining air out of his lungs.

The bigger they are, the dumber they fall. Linebacker is immediately out for the count, but a broken chair is still useful, and Baby Boy is apparently the creative sort.

The snapped leg turns into a baton, and Baby Boy leisurely sways out of pistol-whipping range when Bad Haircut pulls out his gun, dancing back in to drive the splintered wood under the merc’s armpit on the outswing.

Screaming in pain, Bad Haircut stumbles back only for Baby Boy to grab his wrist and haul him forward, twisting his arm in a fancy maneuver that ends up with the gun on the floor and kicked safely out of reach.

Interesting.

Then it’s a pas de deux, with Baby Boy’s back against Haircut’s chest, using the impaled baton as leverage to toss the man over his shoulder and straight into Ugly Smile. 

The merc falls out of the way, only to run into Baby Boy’s fist as it buries deep in his guts. Even at a distance, Wade can hear his ribs break. Doubled over, Ugly Smile is coughing up blood and vomit when a tattooed hand cradles the back of his head and slams his mouth into the table once, twice, three times. Then it’s lights out.

It’s over almost as soon as it began, and as the dust settles, Wade is reevaluating the merits of his earlier bet. 

Yes, they were drunk, but Wade still expected it to be fast, if not messy. He hadn’t been counting on class. He hadn’t been counting on Baby Boy to be the one last standing, let alone to have shut them down so completely it barely merits the paragraph.

And the kid isn’t even done. He’s locked eyes with the fourth guy, jaw flexing like an attack dog straining against its leash, but the dumbass looks like he’s turned over a new leaf and become a law-abiding citizen in the few heartbeats it took Baby Boy to clean the floor with his buddies. 

When the guy doesn’t make a move, Baby Boy leans back, completely relaxed, eyes flat, no sense of triumph in the aftermath, just��disappointment– like he’d been craving something more and been left wanting.

Wade can’t resist a low, appreciative whistle, clocking the way Baby Boy’s entire body reacts to the sound. His head snaps in Wade’s direction, and the whole room vignettes as he stares Wade down, eyes flashing like he wants to crumble his spine like a cookie. 

Lust stabs Wade’s gut all the way to the hilt.

“Changed my mind, Weas,” Wade breathes, feeling the tension drain from the room and right into his dick. “You should keep him.”

[monarchberrysblog]

Thinking about emo boy! miguel…

(18+ for suggestive content)

(yes we are doing this and walk with me)

Happy belated birthday to @bluesidez & @opaloharas 🥺 I hope y'all are happy and healthy 🩷 take this mini-imagine as my gift to you.

His hand reaches out to the right side of the bed, and the plush of your thigh greets the pad of his fingers and palm. He rubs your thigh lovingly before giving it a couple of light spanks to pull you away from your deep slumber. “C’mon, my little fallen angel, time to get up…” You only groan in response and tug his bedsheets upwards over your head. “Five more minutes…”

The bedroom is a place known all too well. It's filled with worn band posters that have seen many years, his collection of chunky belts hanging from the desk chair, and an excessive number of colorful bracelets acquired from raves adorning his dresser.

The dark fabrics of his comforter radiated the smell of laundry detergent and strawberries from your lotion and perfumes. The smell marinated into the bedsheets from your frequent sleepovers at Miguel’s, to the point the smell couldn't sweat out or wash out. Not that he minds or anything.

“No, five minutes. You need to get up.” He enables, yanking the bed sheet downwards. The reveal of your unmatched underwear and bra greeted him, but he disregarded the sight immediately when he saw your wandering hand.

You half-assed reach for the now-gone bed sheet but curl up instead. “Don't make me drag you out.” He sighs as he sees you embrace his flimsy pillow that barely has any stuffing. “If you get up, I’ll get you a Monster.” He cooes, ready to poke the sleeping bear.

“Five more minutes…” You repeat once more and adjust yourself against the mattress.

“Ángel, por favor.” He stops when your hardening gaze burns into his ego.

“Take a nap for an hour or two.” He choked and leaps off the bed. You huff a grumble and snuggle into the dark comforters and bedsheets.

The collection of old My Chemical Romance and Panic! at the Disco shirts from previous concerts became part of your wardrobe whenever you had the chance to sleepover.

The worn-out shirts became an immediate favorite, to the point that you would see people out and about with these washed-out band logos, accessorized with cute shorts or leggings.

But for Miguel? He adored the sight of you wearing those comically oversized shirts as you whipped up scrambled eggs and bacon in the early hours of the day. Your typically clean hair was now pulled back, framing your face in a new way. Your large glasses perched at the top of your nose, occasionally slipping down. You'd always scrunch up your nose in the most adorable manner just to nudge them back into position.

But your collection of panties was instantly memorized by Miguel, knowing the color, pattern, or texture.

Most of the time, the black lacy panties you fancied were always on the kitchen floor, forgotten about until it was time for laundry day that same evening.

Something smol for my lovely followers 🙂‍↕️🩷

[haveihitanerve]

I am a proud Bruce Wayne can cook believer so I, a humble tumblr user, request Bruce cooking with his family.

YES. sorry that was loud. But yes 100%. i gotchu

Dick: Dick awoke to the sound of sizzling. He slipped out of bed slowly, padding down the stairs into the kitchen. Alfred was off on a little veteran excursion with old friends, and it was just him and Bruce in the manor for the week.

Bruce was standing at the stove, humming along to the soft music playing, an apron wrapped around his waist as he flipped something in a pan with one hand, messing around with a spatula in the other. He turned when Dick entered the kitchen, smiling.

"Hey chum, you're awake! Wanna help me cook some breakfast?" Dick nodded, climbing onto a chair to peek at the eggs Bruce was making. "I'm making omelets. They're simple and quick and provide you with lots of good protein and vegetables." Bruce informed him, lifting him off the chair and onto his hip instead, handing him the spatula.

"Go on, flip it." Dick laughed, leaning over the pan to flip the omelet. "Nice work chum!" Bruce cheered, sliding the finished omelets onto two plates. "Now we make some bacon- and.." Dick leaned against Bruce's chest, watching as he easily moved around the kitchen, explaining every step as he went. It was nice. Cozy. Domestic.

Jason: Jason awoke to the smell of frying bacon. He slid down the banister into the kitchen, and padded over to Bruce's side, who was leaned against the counter, drying dishes. "Hey Jay lad." Bruce greeted with a smile, bending down to lift him up. "What's up?"

"What're you making?" Jason asked around a yawn, peering around the kitchen for the source of the smell. "Oh," Bruce grinned, bending down so he could peer into the oven. "I'm making breakfast muffins. They've got bacon, eggs, cheese, and jalapeños." Jason's stomach rumbled and Bruce laughed, standing again.

"It'll be ready in a few Jay." He plopped Jason on the counter, grabbing a cookbook off the shelf. "In the meantime, wanna help me get started on this pot roast for dinner?" Jason nodded, running his hands along the old, yellowed pages of the cookbook. Bruce smiled as he watched him, collecting the ingredients.

"It was my mothers." He informed him, picking the recipe. "and one day," He bopped Jason's nose with a spoon. "It might be yours." Jason smiled.

Tim: Tim awoke to the sound of clanging dishes. That was... strange. Tim jumped out of bed, hand closing around his bo staff. His parents were off on another one of their little adventures. He was home alone. There wasn't anyone else in the house. Or, not supposed to be.

Tim crept down to the kitchen, keeping his back against the wall, before slowly peering inside. Bruce was standing at the sink, filling dirty pots and pans with soapy water, an apron wrapped around his waist, though clearly not big enough for him, so Tim assumed it belonged to the old cook who must have left it when Janet fired her.

"Uh," Tim cleared his throat and stepped into the kitchen, leaving his staff in the hallway. "Bruce? What are... you doing here?" Bruce turned to face him, smiling brightly.

"Timmy! You're awake! Lovely, sorry to drop by unannounced, but you mentioned yesterday not eating breakfast lately, and, well, I figured I'd stop by and make you something." He wiped his hands on a towel, suddenly seeming a little nervous. "If- if that's all right?" Tim nodded slowly, unsure.

"Uh, yeah- yeah no that's fine. What um, what for though?" As far as he was concerned, Robin hadn't done anything wrong lately, and he definitely hadn't done anything that warranted Bruce coming over to make him breakfast. Unless this was Bruce's way of softening the blow of firing him... Something curdled in Tim's stomach.

But Bruce smiled, set at ease again, and turned to his dishes. "Oh no reason, you just mentioned not having eaten breakfast and well," he laughed lightly, sticking a brush into the sink to help his cleaning. "Its... a little bit of a tradition, you know." He shrugged. "For me to cook something. For every Robin. You don't, uh, live at the manor, but that doesn't mean you should miss out."

Tim blinked in confusion. Bruce was... openly sharing a Robin tradition with him? That was new. Bruce sighed, apparently knowing it to, and turned back around. "I'm sorry Tim, I should... this is weird.. I should have told you I'd be coming and... you're permanent Tim."

Tim stared at him wide eyed. "I'm what?" He repeated, utterly confused and a little scared. "You're permanent." Bruce repeated, eyes utterly serious. "i know I haven't always been the best towards you, but I'm trying. I want to- I want to fix that. And be there for you. Like your parents should be. I'm not trying to replace them- I just want you to know I'm here and-"

He was rambling, words moving too fast for Tim's ear to pick up, his own cheeks flushed as his hands moved awkwardly in his haste to explain. Tim didn't care. He'd stopped listening after 'you're permanent'.

Before Bruce had a chance to react, before Tim could stop and think more about what he was doing, he was across the room, his arms wrapped around Bruce's torso. Tim's mind finally connected to his body and he tensed, waiting for Bruce to push him away, to say "no thats not what I meant"... but after a short pause, Bruce's arms wrapped around him.

He was warm and strong and solid, firm and protecting. "I've got you Tim," Bruce whispered, his breath tickling Tim's ear, but the words sweeter than anything he'd ever heard. "You're permanent."

Steph: Steph didn't know how he was in her house. She wanted to know how he'd found her much less. As Bruce Wayne, even, not as Batman. She just stared at him. At Bruce. Standing in her kitchen, awkwardly, holding a Walmart bag of groceries. He cringed, lifting said bag. "You wanna make some waffles?"

Stephanie didn't even know what her life was, anymore. Here she was, ex-robin, remade Spoiler, standing in her cramped, crappy kitchen apartment, making waffles with fucking Batman, except it wasn't Batman, it was Bruce, and he was wearing her obnoxious purple apron and was singing along to her horrible music taste and he was good at singing damn it, and he was laughing at her jokes and even making his own and he even let her lick the spoon and the waffles looked delicious and...

"Why are you here Bruce?" She asked finally, while they were waiting for the last waffle to finish, and Bruce had already moved on to do the dishes for her. "Hm?" Bruce returned, pretending like he hadn't heard her, or understood her, though she could tell by the way his shoulders tensed that he had.

"Why are you here?" She repeated, crossing her arms. Bruce sighed, shoulders slumping. "Because I messed up." He whispered quietly. Steph stilled. "What?"

"I messed up." He repeated, and returned to his scrubbing, doing it more forcefully than necessary, and not turning around to face her. "I- I shouldn't have fired you Stephanie." And that was when the world slid out from under her feet.

"W-what??" She exploded. Bruce bit his lip, knuckles white on the scrubbing brush. "It- it was wrong of me to fire you. I- I'm sorry." And any fight she was gearing up for went out of her. "I was just so mad, and- and I was missing Tim and Dick and Jason and everyone... and its no excuse." He turned, finally, meeting her eyes. "Its no excuse. Not for how I treated you, not for any of it. And, I'm sorry."

Steph stared at him, rendered speechless for the first time in her life. Bruce fidgeted under her stare, but to his credit did not move away, or break eye contact, or flee. "Why now?" She finally managed to squeeze out. Bruce sighed, and it seemed like enough of an acceptance of his apology for now that he turned around again, and resumed doing the dishes.

"I don't know. I guess... I guess because I realized I hadn't done it with you yet." he gestured to their pile of waffles. "Cooked. Cooked for you. I cook for every Robin. For every Robin I've ever had I've cooked. And I- I didn't do it for you. And its because you weren't there for very long but truly its because I didn't want to. I didn't want you to be Robin. Because that meant Tim truly was gone. Because I only get a new Robin when the old one is gone. Gone for good." He shrugged. "There's no excuse."

"Those sounded like some pretty good ones right there." Steph joked lightly. Bruce smiled at that, but still didn't turn around. "But they aren't." Steph swallowed, and slowly walked closer, taking a rag and slowly drying off the dishes he finished.

They worked in silence for a while, until all the dishes were cleaned and put away again, and Steph motioned him to sit down at her rickety old table, and served them waffles.

"I forgive you." She said finally, when they had both eaten their fill. Bruce looked at her. Clearly shocked, but... listening. Staying. She loosed a breath, leaning back in her chair the way Jason had taught her.

"I forgive you because... because you have some pretty good reasons and because... well these waffles are really good." That got a smile, a crack in his mask, and Steph smiled back before she could stop it.

"But mostly..." His smile faded and he waited. Waited. Stayed. "But mostly I forgive you because you apologized. And because I want to. Because well," She smiled ruefully. "Robin can't ever stay mad at Batman for too long can he?" Bruce smiled back, smaller, more subdued, but he smiled back. "No," The words sounded almost sorry. "No he cannot."

Damian: Damian awoke to the smell of home. But... that wasn't right. He wasn't home. Not, not at home. He was at the Manor. At Home home. But the smell...

Damian slipped out of bed, walking to the kitchen. He found Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, and Steph there, yelling at each other and cooking, Bruce and Jason doing the most work while Steph handed them things, Tim read stuff aloud from a big yellow cookbook, and Dick watched, occasionally sampling things and calling for more of something.

"What's going on?" Damian asked, and his words cut through the chatter like a knife. Silence fell. Damian regretted speaking immediately, wishing he hadn't come downstairs at all. But Bruce turned with a smile, still stirring something that smelled so familiar.

"Hey Dami," he greeted, nodding his head for him to come closer. "Happy Birthday. We just decided we'd get together and make you something special for breakfast." Tim nodded and he and Dick herded him to the table, sitting him down and tying a napkin around his neck.

Jason appeared from the kitchen, carrying a tray that wafted like home. "We made a bit of everything," He eldest brother said with a sheepish smile. "Wasn't sure which you'd like." He set the tray down and Damian couldn't stop the tears from welling up, not as he beheld the staples, the dishes Mama had made him. That he had shared with Grandfather.

"Wh- why? What?" Damian looked around at all the sweaty, proud, flour covered faces, beaming at him from around the table. "Do you not like?" Bruce asked in concern, brows furrowing.

"NO!" Damian returned, a little too forcefully, cheeks turning pink. "No." he said, a shade quieter. "Its lovely, but, but why?" Steph grinned, leaning over to ruffle his hair. "Because, little moon, it's Robin tradition that Bruce cooks for you. And, well, since we're fairly certain you're gonna be the last of us,"

"I don't think B's hair can take anymore." Jason grumbled. Tim snickered in agreement and Bruce smacked the back of his head with a small, fond smile as Jason ducked, laughing lightly. Steph rolled her eyes at them, winking at Damian as she continued. "We figured the rest of us would pitch in too." Dick grinned, leaning over to pour him a glass jellab. "Happy Robin Birthday Damian."

[monster-toy]

Have me ride you while youre playing games with your friends. You dont try to hide it, theyre pretty used to it by now, hearing your moans as i rode you. Until one of them asks to see. With a grin you turn your webcam on, yanking my shirt up to show off my tits bouncing. A collective groan comes from your friends as you grab my hips and thrust into me. All i can do is hold on and moan as you rail into, my tits bouncing everywhere. You put your headset on me so i can hear your friends jerk themselves off to you bouncing me in your dick, theyre all telling me how hot i am, how good my tits look, how they cant wait to rail my tight little pussy. I moan and egg them one, playing with my tits and rubbing my clit for them until i cum all over your dick, clenching down hard you. You stand us up and toss me into your chair before pounding away at me. When you cum you fill my pussy and point the webcam at it so your friends cans see your cum leaking out of me.

[inoreuct]

i actually desperately need 40y/o zoro with reading glasses. thin wire frames with teensy rectangular lenses perched on his nose as he peers down at one of sanji’s french romance novels to see what all the fuss is about— after so many years with his husband he’s picked up a bit of the language and sanji has a stack of them on the nightstand and he’s bored, alright? sanji has something to wrap up at the restaurant and he might as well. he’s farsighted and squints at everything near him and it makes him look even grouchier than usual and the fact that he’s graying at the temples doesn’t help. he looks terrifyingly severe with all his scars and his frowning, until he smiles— he’s been doing that a lot more lately, and then people realise that’s why he has crow’s feet around his eyes. i need him to have a collection of bottles that he’s fiercely protective over; they’re all empty and the labels are faded to hell, but point to any one and he can tell you where it had been drunk. there’s a beer bottle from the first night he’d sailed with luffy. a sweet rum they’d popped to celebrate usopp’s return. the champagne from when he and sanji had gotten married.

i need 40y/o sanji with long, long hair that he ties and pins and styles differently every day. sometimes he makes decorative sourdough and he matches his braids to the patterns. i need him taking on protégés in his restaurant, guiding a new generation of culinary genius even though teenagers are fucking terrifying and annoying and argumentative, because he remembers being exactly like them and at the end of it they’re good kids. they listen to him (…to an extent). they’re sweet and talented and they do absolutely crazy shit in the process of trying to push their boundaries; sometimes they trip and fall, but it’s fine. that’s how they learn. that’s what sanji’s for, as their safety net and their mentor— he’ll give them shit for it and pick them up anyway, nag them while brusquely brushing off their knees. but sometimes, sometimes, they come up with something extraordinary, and sanji gets so proud he could cry. zeff drops by and nags at him for everything under the damn roof. sanji doesn’t mind it.

i need them in their kitchen, in the morning, when sanji’s far too chipper and zoro’s not awake enough, nursing a cup of coffee and half-asleep again at the table as sanji fries their eggs. i need zoro to have one of those old man rocking chairs that he settles into to watch the sunset and drink tea, because sanji’s managed to get him into tea of all things. he’d have never imagined liking matcha a decade ago. i need that rocking chair to be big enough for two so that sanji can curl into his side and thumb through yet another of his novels. i need zoro braiding his hair and falling asleep halfway. i need sanji pulling his glasses off when they slip down his nose and dragging his husband to bed so that he doesn’t bitch about his back hurting the next day. i need them at sanji’s restaurant, teaching the kids about food and liquor pairings— they’re a little terrified of zoro until he squints and pulls his specs out to read the labels, after which they’re running around calling him old man and grandpa roronoa. zoro fumes because for fuck’s sake, he’s forty, not ninety. he’s not old. he brings a bottle of wine three inches away from his face and sanji does nothing to stop the kids at all.

just— zoro with reading glasses. sanji with long hair. doing mundane, boring things that make them happy because they never expected to live this long anyway. zoro’s down to two earrings and sanji has one. their rings are woven straw pulled from luffy’s hat. they have a little motored dinghy out back that franky made for the times they need to go haul their captain’s ass out of trouble (as usual), but none of the crew are ever very far from each other. they stay at sanji’s restaurant in the all blue and occasionally fend off people from their past looking for revenge. or money. or to eat them out of the house and home, in luffy’s case, which then leads to zoro den den-ing the rest of the lot and sighing that they might as well come over for a cookout.

they’ve all gotten older; a little banged up and scruffed around the edges, but alive and well. nami’s making bank as a mapmaker who caters to the wealthy/insurance agent/financial advisor— zoro scoffs and calls her a swindling witch, to which she smiles at him all sweet before stomping solidly on his foot with her red-bottom heel. out of their conjoining workshops, franky and usopp have started a wildly successful demo-smithing company that specialises in custom explosives and bespoke carpentry. robin owns and maintains the most extensive archive of books any of them have ever heard of, and it’s pretty much lauded as one of the greatest libraries of all time; brook does gigs in jazz lounges and bistro bars, jinbei’s a diplomat who’s well-respected for campaigning for equal rights, and chopper runs his own medical practice. luffy, as usual, is doing whatever he wants, which is a little bit of everything. y’know, taking down corrupt governments and all that.

sanji feeds them like he’s always done and zoro brings out the good alcohol to pass around.

life’s good.

[gavisfanta]

WHY I LOVE YOU - GAVI

summary: you and gavi are parents and its a normal day of driving your kids to school and finding out about your pregnancy...

warnings: none

"Pero papá, no quiero ir a la escuela." Ale cried out and Gavi let his head hang low while he exhaled deeply.

"No whining around, you're gonna be late." Gavi said and Ale threw his head back.

"But I don't wanna go!" He yelled and was on the verge of tears.

"I dont know how your mother does this every morning." Gavi mumbled in a low voice and then looked away for a second. "You know what, fine. But if you stay at home, you wont be going to practice tonight either." Gavi started walking towards the door and Ale immediately jumped up to get dressed.

"Thought so" He whispered and walked downstairs. He saw you standing in the kitchen, facing the stove while making scrambled eggs for the kids and Gavi.

You jumped a bit as his arms wrapped around you from behind and then put his hand on your lower stomach.

"That smells so good." He moaned out as he loosened his arms again and went to the fridge to pour himself a glass on cooled water.

"What time is it?" Ale came running down the stairs, followed by Ana who was still sleepily rubbing her eyes.

"You still have an hour and a half, chill." Gavi mumbled and then went over to the stairs to pick up Ana and spin her around.

She was about to turn 5 but you absolutely loved the way Gavi treats her. He treated her like she was still 2 and thats adorable in your opinion.

"Did my princesa wake up too?" Gavi smiled at his daughter.

"He splashed water over my face." Ana pointed at Ale who smiled while sitting on his chair at the dining table.

"Ale, I told you to stop waking people up with water." Gavi walked over to him and sat down Ana on her seat. Ale on the other hand was about to turn 7. He was more of the wild kid while Ana was calm and collected.

"It was an accident." He crossed his arms and Gavi raised his brows.

"If I throw you into the pool was it an accident too?" Your husband pointed outside in your garden where the huge pool was.

"No, that's mean!" Ana pulled the bottom of gavis shirt and he looked at her while he smiled.

"You're such a good kid." He leaned down to kiss her head before walking back to you into the kitchen. You were currently cutting some tomatoes while the scrambled eggs were already on the plates.

"You need help amor?" He asked but instead of replying, you put a plate between the two of you and nudged your head towards the kids.

"Okay boss" Gavi smiled while putting down the plate infront of Ale and soon you returned with all plates in your hand and put them down infront of each person.

After you were all done with eating Gavi stood up and walked over to you.

"Thanks babe, that was amazing." He kissed your temple and you smiled. "Okay kids, lets carry our empty plates into the kitchen and then brush our teeth." Gavi said and grabbed his plate and yours too. You smiled as he also took their forks out of safety reasons.

You watched all three of them go upstairs and then you went to the kitchen to clean everything up.

"You take this" Gavi told Ale and gave him his electric toothbrush that was made for kids and he sat down on the toilet seat and took Ana's toothbrush.

"Come here amor." He waved her over and she walked to him, she was still half asleep, her eyelids hanging heavily and she barely managed to hold herself on her own feet.

"Open up" Gavi told her and as she did he began brushing her teeth since she somehow still wasn't able to do that on her own.

"Why can't you just brush your own teeth?" Ale asked Ana after he put his toothbrush down on the edge of the sink.

"Did you brush your teeth good?" Gavi asked while he then reached Ana a plastic cup full of water and she then stood on the little staircase infront of the sink to spit out the remaining toothpaste.

"Yes, look!" Ale said and opened his mouth, showing his teeth. Gavi nodded his head while he grabbed a hair brush and then began brushing Ana's soft brown hair.

"What hairstyle do you want to do today?" Gavi asked as he took her hair into his hand.

"Can you make the one mom made yesterday?" Ana asked as she looked at herself in the mirror. Ale sat down on the toilet seat as he watched his dad and sister.

"What did mom do yesterday?" Gavi turned to look at Ale who smiled a bit.

"A braid, you should remember that." As soon as Ale said braid, Gavi made a face.

"I mean I can try but it wont be as pretty as mom's braid okay?" He looked at her through the mirror and she nodded her head.

"Why isn't mom doing it today then?" Ale asked Gavi as he began try to braid her hair. You had taught him once how to and he often tried to braid your hair and he got visibly better at it.

"Because she's tired, her cleaning the kitchen takes less energy then dealing with the two of you." Gavi answered, Ana yawned a bit to which Ale shook his head.

"Is she alright though?" Ale asked and Gavi nodded his head as he smiled. It was heartwarming to him to see that his children actually cared about the wellbeing of their mother.

And after Gavi was done with the braid he looked at it proudly. There were some parts that weren't perfect but he was satisfied.

"It's not that bad is it?" He turned Ana around so that she was facing Ale with her back. His son admired the braid and nodded his head.

"You did a good job dad!" He said loudly and grinned. Gavi brought down his hand a bit to mess up his hair.

"Okay, grab your bags and lets go to school!" He clapped his hands together and went downstairs while the kids ran into their rooms.

"Babe, you need some help?" Gavi yelled as he just walked into the kitchen. He saw you putting the final plate into the dishwasher and close it up. The kitchen looked clean, you turned around to face him and opened up your arms.

"No, I'm done, are you driving them to school?" Gavi hugged you as you asked that.

"Yeah I am, you go back to bed. You look a bit pale." Gavi moved his head back a bit while still standing close to you.

"I will. Thank you for driving them." You said and pulled him back to yourself again. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he held you close.

Just a few seconds later you heard steps coming down the stairs. You opened your eyes and saw Ana smiling at the two of you, her bag in her hands.

"Okay, lets go dad." You patted Gavi's back who immediately raised his head and turned around. He crouched down infront of Ana and took her bag, she turned around and slipped her arms into the straps.

"Where's your brother?" He asked and just then Ale came down the stairs.

"I'm here, bye mom!" Ale just simply waved at you while walking to the door.

"Bye Ale" You smiled at him. Ana on the other hand walked over to you and you crouched down to give her a kiss.

"Bye mom, love you!" Ana smiled while she walked in front of Gavi to the door. However as Gavi looked back at you, he walked back to you real quick to give you a kiss.

"Go back to bed and try to catch some sleep yeah?" Gavi smiled at you and began walking backwards to the door.

"I will, bye!" You waved at him and he left.

"Okay, are you both ready? Last day of the week." Gavi mumbled while sitting into the car and fastening his seatbelt. He looked back at both of the kids sitting in their seats.

"Yes!" Both yelled in excitement and Gavi drove them to school. After he returned home again, he found you in bed, looking at the tv infront of the king sized bed.

Money heist was playing, so as soon as Gavi entered the room you stopped the tv and looked at him walking closer to you.

"How is my love?" He kneeled down next to your side of the bed and pressed a kiss on your lips.

"Can I be honest?" You turned your head to look at him, he nodded his head. "I think I'm pregnant again."

Gavi froze for a couple of seconds, he broke the eye contact and looked down at his hands which were on top of the mattress.

"Did you take a test yet?" Gavi asked while you looked deep into his eyes and shook your head. "Let's take one, come on." He stood up and you pushed the covers down from your body.

Gavi went into the bathroom first and grabbed a pregnancy test from the top of the shelf so nobody was able to see it. You kept two up there at all times incase anybody or you needed it.

"Okay, here" Gavi handed you it and you went to sit down on the toilet and Gavi sat down at the edge of the bathtub while looking at you.

You didn't mind him watching you doing whatever, he saw you from all angles already so there wasn't much to hide.

He smiled at you as you finished taking the test and put it down onto the counter so that the upside was facing the counter.

"What are you all smiley for?" You asked and walked over to Gavi to hug him. one of the things your friends noticed was that you two were still very affectionate with eachother. Some people grew apart after they had kids and you two didnt at all.

"It'd be so nice to have a third kid." Gavi mumbled and kissed your forehead. Gavi and you have talked about having more children previously. You both agreed that three was the max number of children.

"It would be amazing. I'm just not as excited for the actual giving birth part but whatever." You joked and Gavi chuckled.

"I braided Ana's hair today, did you see it?" He changed the topic to distract you from the test.

"No I didn't." You gasped and covered your mouth. He shook his head and parted his lips into a thin line.

"I did such a good job, also, I need to leave for practice at 11. So you'll have to pick up the kids." Gavi informed you ro which you only gave him a nod.

After enough time had passed which contained the two of you just chatting, you looked at the pregnancy test infront of you.

"I can't do it, you do it." You tokd Gavi and took a step aside, he took the pregnancy test between his fingers and then turned ut around slowly.

Pregnant.

"Oh my god, I'm pregnant." You jumped into Gavi's arms while you smiled widely.

"You're pregnant." Gavi repeats while a big smile covers his own lips. After he loosened his grip around you, he immediately grabbed your face and kissed a long and passionate kiss on your lips.

"Oh my god, we need to go and shop for the baby. Do you think it will be a boy or a girl? I'm hoping for a boy because then-" You talked way too fast, before you could continue Gavi crushed his lips into yours again.

"I'm so excited." He stated after the kiss. Gavi was so happy that he was gonna be a father of three. You and him had planned having three children even before Ale was born. Even tho you didn't try to get pregnant right now, it happened at that was so beautiful about it.

Things happen and sometimes they're the best things to ever happen.

[havemyheartaziraphale]

The shopkeepers of Whickber Street always looked forward to AZ Fell's bookshop Christmas decorations. Not because Azi opened up the shop for a longer period of time, but because it brought in more trade for the rest of them.

They didn't know how he did it. Each year the decorations were more awe-inspiring than the last, and for those who had been around for a while could spot little nods to years previous. Easter eggs, as some would call them.

Mr Fell also seemed to get everything done with no help at all, from what they could tell. He must have help from his friend, the darkly dressed Mr Crowley, but he hadn't been around for a while this year, and Mr Fell certainly seemed less cheerful when he didn't think anyone was watching.

As Christmas rapidly approached, the Whickber Street traders all steadily and silently went about trying to find the perfect gift for Mr Fell to cheer him up. After all, he'd been generous to them over the years, and seemed to have an inate understanding of what each of them loved.

Aziraphale had just got comfortable in his reading chair when there was a knock at the door. Sighing heavily in annoyance, he got up to open it.

There, on the steps in front of him, were a pile of presents, and noone in sight.

He looked around before picking one up and inspecting the tag.

Dear Mr Fell, merry Christmas. From Maggie.

He read a few more before bringing them all inside. It was Christmas Eve now, so where better to put them than to place them all under the tree that stood proudly in the middle of the shop?

Aziraphale admired his work. The tree looked handsome, and he felt a warm rush of love and appreciation for everyone who had left a present for him. If he wasn't mistaken, there was a new rug from Mr Brown, and Maggie most certainly would have found some delightful new records for him to listen to, based on the shape of her wrapped presents. But he wouldn't look now, oh no.

Well... Maybe just one present now?

He looked at them all, and settled on the wrapped pile of what was clearly going to be books (and a little miracle tingle suggested that it was indeed books).

There was no tag, however. Maybe it had come off while moving them all? But Aziraphale couldn't see anything, and he couldn't be arsed to check outside, not now that there were hooks to enjoy.

He unwrapped the ribbon keeping the pile together, then chose the top book to unwrap.

He gasped quietly. It was a rare collection of letters, and only one person knew he had been looking for it.

A soft "hello angel" came from the corner of the room