#also because he never learns from being sassed

[themindofachronicdaydreamer]

Perspectives

marshmallow floof plot: Megumi recalls you and Gojo falling in love through his eyes. content: fem! reader, megumi is in denial about caring about Gojo, Gojo is obsesseddddd with you shamelessly, but its okay because so are you with him! warning!: megumi is not good with emotions :/ or tolerating Gojo word count: 5.7k satoru gojo x reader note: can we pretend utahime and gojo are the same age pls and thank u - also i am delusional and in my head suguru did not defect so gojo never had to go thru all of that okay <3333 anywau i hope you enjoy!! put a lot of thought and love into this!

At only six years old, Megumi was already quite intelligent. As an extremely perceptive child, he understood far more than he should have at such an age. Typically, kids his age were naive and gullible; Megumi however was the complete opposite, and that was partially due to his aloofness.

When Satoru Gojo first met Megumi, he felt like he was talking to a grandpa in a miniature body, sassing anyone who dare interact with his little self. As stern and as gloomy as the boy persisted on to be, though, Gojo picked up on hints of tenderness and compassion laced between every word Megumi spoke about his sister, Tsumiki. Easily, Gojo could discern what he deemed too much deeply rooted pain and defensiveness in the young Fushiguro. Having his guard up was engraved into his mind; the wall he placed between him and the world had it's own sector in his immune system and acted with automaticity, an innate defense mechanism.

Despite all of the anguish intertwined in every breath Megumi exhaled, and despite his cold nature he employed to protect himself from being hurt again as he has before; despite being abandoned, and despite not being surprised he was; despite not even hitting double digits, yet already carrying the attitude of a the wisest owl; despite all of the thoughts racing through Gojo's head, he knew Megumi was special. Though a part of it may have been due to the responsibility he felt over the boy after murdering his father, Satoru Gojo was confident in one thing: he would take care of this kid like his life depended on it.

From then on, Gojo took the role of Megumi's benefactor, funding him and his sister so that they could live without worry. Megumi begrudgingly allowed him to endow his life, though it was rather difficult. The guy was so over-the-top and bothersome when he decided to actually go and physically check up him. Visits from were sparse, though, if Megumi really cared or needed anything, Gojo was always a text away.

And soon he would learn that you were, too.

The first time your existence was brought to Fushiguru's attention, it was mildly unintentional on Gojo's end. He was completing his routine check-in on Megumi about six months after taking him under his wing, ensuring he was doing fine in school - other than the fights he found himself in every now and again, of course. And after everything checked out okay, he rambled on about his week and how exhausting it was being the strongest, greatest individual to exist in this time and how much Yaga has been up his ass since he was promoted to principal and blah blah blah...

"Can you believe he was expecting me to get to the school before nine A.M.? Hah! Funny man. I need my beauty sleep. How else would I always look this handso- Oh!"

Megumi, who was in no way religious, praised in that moment whatever God up above sent a call to Gojo's phone at that exact moment, for he failed to believe he could have pretended to listen to another second of his unimportant and unnecessary rant. It truly was over-the-top, and Megumi was not a fan. He had never, nor did he think he would ever, warmed up to the way Gojo's ego seems to make a nearly empty room feel claustrophobic.

"Heyyyyy!" Gojo dragged, acting like a highschool girl with the way he twirled the end of his hair and giggled at whoever was at other end of the phone. If Megumi cared to look closely enough (which he totally doesn't, since he is so disinterested in Gojo and does not dare to look at him too long or he will automatically become annoyed), a rosy hue could barely be seen on the apples of the older man's cheeks, growing more and more apparent the longer the phone call went on.

Obviously, Megumi did not want to listen to the likely boring conversation, but since he was stuck in the same room as Gojo, he had no other choice but to eavesdrop on the phone call. Or, more accurately, he was playing detective to solve the mystery of who on the other end was transforming Gojo, as childish as he is, into a tweenage boy talking to a cute girl for the first time.

"I'm with Fushiguru, actually," Megumi overheard, his interest only minutely piqued after hearing his name. Whoever was on the other end must have known who he was already given the way Gojo did not feel the need to elaborate on who exactly Fushiguru was. That irked Megumi.

"Yeah, just hanging out, you know. I'd say we're best buds! Right, Megumi?" Gojo moved the phone away from his ear and looked at the boy across from him expectedly.

"No," is all Megumi spoke in response.

Gojo's eyes widened slightly, not expecting such a response, before he laughed and continued, "Silly guy! Such a silly guy."

The call took way too long and Megumi was half tempted to leave the room, but he was still getting used to Gojo and did not fully understand what his role was in his current situation. Was Gojo considered a houseguest? Was Megumi supposed to have something prepared as a thank you? Even if he was, he wouldn't do that for Gojo. What if something went wrong, or Gojo did something stupid? Tsumiki was at her after school club, being the natural social butterfly she was. Megumi had assumed the role of the man of the house at merely seven, and he was not going to disappoint her or let anything go haywire on his watch. This was his roof, and nothing would happen to their humble little abode under his watch.

Finally, Gojo said his goodbyes to whoever he was speaking to, set his phone down, and sighed in the most i-must-be-living-in-a-daydream-because-there-is-no-way-life-can-be-this-good-and-i-am-so-in-love-but-i-dont-even-know-it sort of way.

"You would like her," Gojo broke the silence after a few moments of savoring the butterflies in his stomach.

"Who was that?" Megumi queried, and if Gojo listened closely, he could hear echos of intense interest in the boy's simple question.

"A friend from work."

"You don't have friends."

"Hey!"

-----

After your existence was brought to light, it became a thing that whenever Gojo visited, he spent half the time on the phone - whether texting or on a phone call, it didn't matter. He was always talking to you.

Megumi supposed he should have felt grateful since Gojo finally became less unbearable. His check-ins, although hard to predict when they would be or how long in between they would reoccur, became less about how much Gojo loves himself and more about... well, you. It was a nice change from hearing his neverending egocentric comments, to be fair. Megumi was not complaining.

"You remember her, right, Megumi?" he asked while walking Megumi home from school one day. He was on a tyrant about something that had happened at Jujutsu High a few days prior before realizing he might had forgotten about the most important detail: you. The chance that Megumi may not even know who he was speaking about generated a sharp gasp escaping from Gojo's lips.

"Yes. She's all you talk about," Megumi deadpanned. What a stupid question, the boy thought to himself, when Gojo asked this every single time he bothered to show his face around here.

Gojo chuckled, responding in a voice that was way up in the clouds, as if he was skipping through a meadow abundant with good feelings and the potential for new relationships, "Hm, yeah. I guess you're right! Sorry, kid. Just had to make sure you knew."

At this point, Megumi learned a lot about you: You taught second-year sorcerers at Tokyo Jujutsu High, you went to Kyoto Jujutsu High, you were in same year as Gojo was, you were acquaintances for a while, your best friend (unfortunately so, as Gojo whined when he told Megumi) was Utahime, who was oddly protective of you and rude for no reason to Gojo (it is most definitely within reason), you were the most selfless person to walk the surface of this planet, you cared more for others than for yourself, and you and Gojo were really, really, really good friends now that you worked together and you two were close and he was friends with you and you texted him all the time and hung out too and you spent time together and you are theprettiestpersonhehadeverplacedhissixeyeson-

Basically, Megumi knew more about you than he comfortably should, and you were all Gojo seemed to talk about now.

Megumi found it sort of... endearing how much Gojo spoke about you. For someone so certain in himself and all of his glory, it was nice to hear him talk about someone else that way. He discerned an innocent intent in Gojo's actions, from the soft grin that graced his face when he rattled on about you, to the way he had begun to ask eight-year-old Megumi for advice on women (which he has surprisingly been helpful with - especially the time when Gojo didn't know if you'd prefer a specific flavor of mochi over another, and Megumi's suggestion ended up being the perfect one because it was your favorite). And though he would never, ever utter the words out loud, Megumi enjoyed hearing Gojo talk about you. It brought him down to earth and made him feel more like a mortal being; even Satoru Gojo crushed, fawning over you like you were a brand new toy and he was a toddler unwrapping gifts on Christmas Day. Even the man who had everything in the world simply wanted just like the rest of the world; he yearned for things in life that he did not ("Not yet, but surely soon!" Megumi was certain Gojo would say if he could read minds) have.

The two boys sat together at Megumi's, eating some sweets Gojo brought back from his mission. Gojo had a bouquet of flowers set delicately on the table in front of him, preparing himself to go to your house after his pep talk with Megumi and ask you on a date. Finally.

Staring at the flowers beside him, Gojo resolved to pick a flower out of the bouquet; a pretty, pale pink daisy that reminded him of the shade of your cheeks when he teased you. He rolled the green stem of the daisy back and forth between his index finger and thumb while echoing the declarations of his planned speech confessing his feelings for you. He had his heartfelt soliloquy memorized, but he was still feeling... apprehensive.

"She loves me," Gojo began, plucking a petal off of the flower and setting it delicately on the table. He spoke lowly, as if his life depended on the resolution he would find when he would extricate the last of the daisy's petals.

Megumi looked up from the book he was reading - a true crime mystery he had been quite invested in - to figure out what the man next to him was doing.

"She loves me not," Gojo plucked another petal, placing it on top of the other one he had already taken off.

Ah, Megumi understood it now. He's transforming into a child; his obsession with you had turned his brain to mush. He had now, mentally, been beat by Megumi, descending into the intellect a five year old smitten with a kindergarten crush.

"She loves me!" Gojo chirped. He plucked another petal before reporting with a glum tone, "She loves me not."

This went on and on. Megumi observed without a word and Gojo continuing the game that is so typically played on on a children's playground.

How on earth did you have such a drastic effect a man so above the rest of society? The man put on a pedestal by all of the Jujutsu world; the one who could take on any obstacle and leave without a scratch; the same guy who died and brought himself back to life; he could isolate himself from the rest of the world in an instant using only his limitless technique, yet, you always found a way to draw him back him - and somehow, somewhere in the mix, you had The Strongest Sorcerer wrapped around your finger.

"She loves me, Megumi!" Gojo proclaimed when he picked the final petal from the flower. "I mean, of course she does. Look at me."

Ah, there was the daily dose of Gojo's big ego; his head was as inflated as expected, but was on display little later than usual. Megumi referred to it as The Daily Dose of Gojo: DDG. He was bound to hear at least once a day about how much Gojo loved himself, whether through text or in person. But today, it was more like he was venturing to persuade himself on that fact, too.

Megumi then realized that this was the first time he had seen Gojo nervous.

He wondered what about you could make Gojo nervous, because not even the strongest of curses causes The Strongest Sorcerer to break into a sweat. What exactly is it that you have that grants you the title of the one human who could make Satoru Gojo nervous? He understood that you were special to him, but he still had never met you, and he is starting to want to.

He wasn't sure why he felt so protective over you. You were a twenty-year-old woman who he has never even met in person, even though he knew from Gojo the color of your eyes and the smell of the perfume you always wore. One thing was for sure, though: if Satoru Gojo messed with your heart, Megumi would fight him with all of the effort his child body could exert in one go, then kick his ass all the way to the core of the earth to be at such a heat that his infinity disfunctioned, ensuring he suffers for ever even considering toying with your feelings.

-----

"Fushiguru!" Gojo hollered as Megumi exit his elementary school.

Megumi glared at the white-haired male as he stalked toward him, untrusting of the motives at play. Gojo watched the child over the rims of his sunglasses, a toothy smile spread across his face while he waved excitedly. He had something planned, as per usual.

"What do you want?" Megumi groaned, and he eyed the two individuals in front of him with suspicion, though he already had an idea on who you were.

It was an uncommon sight for him to be picked up from school, but for Gojo to be accompanied by someone other than Ijichi was borderline shocking. There was only one person you could be, however, and Megumi suppressed the fluttering of excitement he felt as he saw you.

"Hey! Rude to speak to your elders like that," Gojo jested flippantly. "I want you two to meet!"

Fushiguru listened as Gojo repeated every syllable of your name that he has repeated a million times before. It rolled smoothly off of his lips, like caramel drizzle on the sweetest treat from his favorite bakery. It has been about two months since you, somehow willingly, agreed to a date with Gojo. It has been about a month since you agreed to officially be his girlfriend, which Yaga was not the most pleased to hear, but Gojo dealt with that and ensured the security of both of your jobs.

"Hi, Fushiguru!" You waved, a wide smile adorning your face. "Nice to meet you! Gojo talks about you all of the time."

"Hi," Megumi quietly said. He suddenly felt shy in your presence. You stood in front of him in all of your beauty, with the kindest smile on your face and the softest look in your eye, gazing at him as if he were the most important person in the world. Gojo did not do you justice when describing you to him.

And suddenly, everything Gojo ever said about you made complete sense - now, he finally understood how even the famed Satoru Gojo fell victim to the enigma that was you.

"I'm a friend of Gojo's! I wanted to meet you, and I don't know if you would want to, but I would love to get to know you," you offered. You folded your hands together in front of you and smiled politely toward the young boy. You were doing your best to not look too nervous because you really did want to get to know this kid, but from what Gojo's told you, he was not the most sociable character. Something about his melancholy aura is rather intimidating, to say the least, and you were doing your best to accommodate.

"...will he be there?" the kid questioned after some thought. As he spoke, he pointed his thumb toward his benefactor who immediately took offense to whatever he was implying, whining loudly in the background of what had become the two of yours conversation.

"Who, Gojo? Oh, well, he doesn't have to be," you suggested over Gojo's objections. "It can just be you and me. Or, if you are more comfortable with it, he can come with-"

"No. No Gojo," he interrupted. Gojo continued in his protests, but they all drowned into white noise as Megumi continued. "But sure."

You craved so badly to smile widely, high five Gojo for the feat you just accomplished, jump up and down, and display your excitement for his agreement on your face. But you were so worried you would scare him off, so instead, you opted for a soft smile while you said, "Great! Is now okay?

"Sure," he returned, emotionless as always.

"Perfect. Your pick on what we do. And it's on Gojo!"

And you walked away, ignoring Gojo whining after you. You'd coddle him tonight when he would inevitably pout to you about abandoning him for a little kid. For now, though, the important task at hand was getting to know Megumi Fushiguru - who reluctantly held your hand as you walked to the arcade he selected.

From then on, you were a common face in Megumi's life.

When he was in fourth grade, the two of you started a tradition where every other week, you would pick him up early from school and get ice cream and talk (as much as Megumi was willing to, at least). You had surprised him after school one day a couple months ago, and the routine stuck after he asked you to go again the couple weeks later. Not that you ever complained - you would never in your right mind take for granted Megumi willingly hanging out with you.

"So, how has school been?" you probed, Megumi begrudgingly held your hand as you walked through the busy streets of Tokyo (he claimed he was old enough to walk on his own, but you told him it was just for your own sanity in the scary world of Tokyo and when he turned ten you wouldn't do it anymore, and who was he to deny you of peace of mind when that is all you ever wished upon everyone els?).

"Fine," Megumi muttered. He was not the most fond of crowds, which was glaringly obvious as he squeezed your hand more aggressively the farther you ventured into the city. So yeah, maybe he did kind of appreciate your overprotectiveness.

That was the day you learned Megumi had his first crush.

Well, okay, it wasn't really a crush. He just thought someone was cute.

As you sat side-by-side, he ate his vanilla ice cream cone with chocolate sprinkles, you ate your choice of ice cream, and the two of you chatted - meaning you talked, and he occasionally threw in a word or two.

"Any girls you think are cute? Or guys?" You sought, emphasizing the teasing nature of your question by tapping your elbow into his side. Megumi glared up at you through the strands of his hair, but you could see the red tint on his pale skin - a sign you were on to something. "Ooooh! Tell me all about them!"

"Stop it," he sulked and stared off into the distance, ice cream forgotten in his hand. You could tell he was thoroughly embarrassed, but you just could not for the life of you get over how adorable he looked.

"Aw, Megumi. I'm just teasing. But you can always talk about that with me, you know?" you offered. "I can give you all the advice on girls. I would not recommend asking Gojo about them. His flirting skills are... unconventional. Plus, I know I'm your favorite. So just gives an excuse to rub it in his face!"

"Thanks," Megumi spoke broodingly. His ice cream was starting to melt a little down the side of the waffle cone. The treat regained his attention as he finally noticed the melting mess, and immediately, he tackled cleaning it up. He hated messes.

"So... does that mean I'm your favorite?" you interrogated. This had been a debate between you and your boyfriend for a long time now.

"Sure."

And amongst the crowds of people, you - a full grown adult - hollered and jumped up and pumped your fist in satisfaction, because that was the best thing anyone had every said to you.

-----

Megumi took back whenever he had the ignorant thought that Gojo was becoming more bearable. Completely rescinded it. He was absolutely the most unbearable human to ever have walked this planet; residing in the same millennia as this man was barely tolerable, let alone inhaling the same air or sitting in the same room.

Gojo wanted to propose to you and he wouldn't stop talking about it.

Or asking Megumi for advice.

Yeah. Satoru Gojo was asking an eleven-year-old boy for help proposing to his long-term girlfriend.

You had been dating for over three years, and Gojo was growing impatient; he wanted you to be fully his. Not that you weren't already, but he wanted to be officially - by the law, by the symbol of marriage, and by the ceremony that accompanied it. He wanted you to take his name and be a new addition to the Gojo lineage, and if it came to the day, maybe add some little ones to the family. It was getting the point where want wasn't enough to describe how he felt - it was a necessity to marry to, to be yours forever.

Megumi had grown a lot closer with you with the past months, even opening up a little. He mentioned to you his internal debate regarding "good people" and "bad people", to which you listened, you heard him, and you cared. Genuinely. You hugged him, and in that moment, he felt so loved, he never wanted to leave your arms - the arms that would protect him from anything scary, like nightmares or curses, and shield him from experiencing any more hardships. He wasn't used to that - yeah he had his sister, whom he loved so dearly and she did in return, to be cared by a motherly figure was something he had barely experienced.

For the life of him, he could not figure out how or why you willingly, even happily, subjected yourself to the hinderance that was Gojo. Every time he asked you why, you respond, "Oh, Megumi, you're a funny one!" and laughed the heartwarming laugh that made him feel like home. Megumi knew, deep down somewhere he wouldn't ever like to admit, that you were happy, and Gojo made you happy. He knew you loved Gojo. He was fully aware of all of that. And he had witnessed as your relationship grew more serious with time Gojo beginning to think for more than just himself - he grew as an individual, doing what he thought was best for the ones he loved, rather than what suited him best. Megumi knew that come to it, Gojo would lay down his life for you. If it meant making a deal with the most dangerous curse, or if it meant sacrificing his soul, Gojo would do it for you, and honestly, Megumi had the inkling that Gojo would do it for him too.

"What if I have a plane do the whole 'marry me?' in the sky? Ugh, but that is so overdone. I need to be creative and go all out for her. What do you think, Megumi?" Gojo inquired, to which Megumi only tuned back in because he heard the sound of his name.

"Just ask her. You know she'll say yes," Megumi grumbled what he already knew was fact.

"Well, of course she will. Who would turn down my handsome self?" Gojo gestures to his person, a confident smile on his lips. "But you're right. Ugh, Megumi, what do I do?" Gojo held an ebony ring box, anxiously passing it from one hand to the other and back, the piece of jewelry it contained an indicator of how serious he was about this. Why he was carrying such an expensive ring around so casually was beyond Megumi's pay grade, but he knew Gojo would not let anything happen to it.

"You'll figure it out," Megumi said, as he had no ideas either - you deserved everything in the world, and no proposal or material thing would be enough to thank you for all you have done for everyone else.

"Oh my god, I did!" Gojo jumped from his seat, giddy as a little kid, and celebrated whatever idea he came up with. He placed the ring box in his pocket, where he would protect it with every cell in his body.

"Great," Megumi said. He prayed to himself that Gojo would now finally get out of his hair.

"I'll take her on a nice trip - she's always wanted to sightsee in Europe, but hasn't had the time - and then, once we land in Greece, I'll do it there and- and I'll leave it at that. Don't wanna spoil the surprise yet for everyone. Thanks Megumi!"

And Megumi smiled a tiny little smile to himself as Gojo exited his house, excited for the two of you.

And he congratulated you when you came home from the trip Gojo planned for the two of you. You visited him and ran up, showing off the ring you were sure Gojo spared no expense on. Though, Megumi had already seen it from the hundreds of times Gojo showed him it, and not to mention all the pictures you send him from overseas.

And he continued to be excited for you as he helped you with planning - because if there is one thing to know about Megumi, it's that he is organized. So he helped you figure your ceremony out by ensuring all the paperwork you had and the appointments you booked and all of your purchases were kept track of, or else the wedding would have been a disaster. If Gojo asked him for help, though, he would laugh in his face and say absolutely not.

And then, before he knew it, the wedding was there. Megumi was the ring bearer, of course. He was almost 13 at that point, and he was starting to grow into himself and show signs of growing up (puberty!).

He felt... happy.

Happy for you. Happy for the new and official makeshift family that established itself. Happy to know that you were genuinely happy, and that for all of the love you constantly gave to others without hesitation, someone gave finally was giving you that love back, and then some. Because he saw how much Gojo adored you, and honestly, there was no one else he would want to be with you.

Now he stands, at Tokyo Jujutsu High for his first year at the school. His benefactor who drives him up the wall is his teacher, and now, not only does he have to deal with him normally, but he actually has to listen to him.

But at least you're there too. He has you, always.

And for that, he smiles. A rare smile reserved for the sparse moments where he is genuinely happy - and he is, because he knows you'll save him from Gojo if he needs you to.

The improvised family he's found himself in may not be exactly what he dreamed of, but he's happy with it nonetheless.

And he still struggles with the dilemma of what is good or bad, and he still struggles to find his purpose in the world, and he is still angry at the universe for putting him in this world when there was no reason for him to be there, and he still struggles with the pain of abandonment and his found comfort in solidarity.

But that's okay. It'll be okay. He has you. He has you because Gojo brought you into his life.

He's grateful for that.

Megumi hopes one day he can find the love you share for himself. But that's a problem for the distant future. And when he has another crush, you will be the first to know - not because he would admit it to you, but because somehow, you always know. You know him better than he knows himself at this point, and it's a scary talent you have, but one you most definitely possess.

With that, Megumi steps forward, walking alongside you into the building he will be at almost everyday for the next few years. While he wasn't holding your hand like old times, it was okay. Because he was growing up, and he had a future ahead of him that made you so excited for him.

"I'll see you later, Meg. Got a long day ahead," you bid farewell and ruffle his hair. The two of you stop in the barren hallway facing each other, and you are disappointed at how he keeps growing, and at some point in the near future, he will surpass your height. It feels like you're shrinking, honestly, with how fast he's growing.

But you always knew he would at some point, just like you knew that he would one day decline holding your hand while in public, and how one day he would outgrow your ice cream runs (though they still happen every now and then, just not as frequent as in the past).

"See you," Megumi responds.

"Love ya!" You lean and place a chaste kiss on the side of Megumi's head. You remember when you used to be able to place one on the top of his head without going on your tiptoes, but times are changing, or you're shrinking or whatever, and the side of the head will do.

"Yeah, love you, too," Megumi says, rushing the end of the sentence and turning around to walk away. You say it to him so often, and he loves you, but it's still difficult for him to express that.

But that's okay. It's all okay.

He knows whatever is in the future, you will protect him, and Gojo will watch over him, and everything will be okay. The two of you will love him unconditionally, even if he struggles to say it back.

And he'll never admit it, but if there is one thing he's grateful for in life, it's Gojo, for he brought you into his life, and what a blessing it is to exist at the same time as you do.

"So, let me get this straight," you begin, staring at the three individuals in front of you. "You sent Megumi alone to find Sukuna's finger at some school, which was taken by random students who tried to unravel it, which ended in this kid-"

"Yuji Itadori, sensei!" Yuji introduces himself, saluting to you for some reason.

"Right. Itadori ate the finger. Sukuna's finger. And he is now Sukuna's vessel."

"Yup!" Gojo confirms and he gives you a thumbs up. "That about sums it up."

"So tell me why when I asked about three hours ago why all of the higher-ups were acting like they were shitting themselves, you didn't think to tell me what happened?" you ask, irritation with your husband woven in between every syllable you speak.

"I did, but I knew it would be fine, so I didn't want to worry you."

"Worry? Really? Do you know how worried I was when they said Sukuna was there?"

"Honey, you know I'm strong. I can face him."

Itadori looks to his new comrade, Fushiguru, to see if he was uncomfortable to watch the couple argue in front of them. He fails to be consoled when he sees Megumi wasison his phone nonchalantly as if nothing's wrong. Yuuji assumes Megumi was just tuning them out as a student being used to teachers bickering, so he decides to try to do the same. But it's not working.

"I don't care about your strength, I care about Megumi, and I care about the lives of those students, and-"

"Hey, Fushiguru?" Itadori says, and Megumi hums in response. "Is this normal?"

"-they were put at risk, Satoru! Do you understand that?"

With the couple continuing to argue in the background, Megumi looks up from his phone finally, answering, "Huh, this? Yeah. Get used to it. He's an idiot."

"Yes, baby, I understand, but I made a judgement call and I stand by that. I'm sorry-"

"Ah. Well, um. Can we leave? Do we have to stay?"

"-for not keeping you informed, but I promise you, I had it under control."

"Yeah. They won't even notice we're gone until one of them asks for our opinion and then they notice we're missing. It's just funny to watch them sometimes."

"The higher ups want to execute him! An innocent kid! And I know you got sweets in the middle of all of that. Are you serious-"

"You're used to this?" Itadori inquires, a naturally curious kid.

"-ly telling me that nothing different could have been done to prevent this?"

"I guess you could say that."

rawrrrr thank u for reading i love you SMMMM i loved writing this hehee <33333

[writingescapades]

Life with Rafayel

A/N: I've been thinking a lot about Rafayel. His personality, character, story, and the relationship he has with his previous incarnations and this word vomit came out.

Detached from the world. Spontaneous mini trips. Short drives to isolated spots where you both take long walks, often camping in the car itself in order to catch that sunrise and sunset. Huddling together with warm tea and quiet music playing as you both watch the landscape and have soft conversations. He loves taking photos of nature, but also candid moments were you both can just be silly because no one is watching.

Aimless walks together. Walks with no direction or time limit where you both can catch up and soak in nature. He loves winter walks where he can hear your voice and you enjoy the windy days where you find his hand holding onto yours. You’ll often find little spots that you claim as your secret rendezvous. Places where you can find one another when the world can’t.

A life of wonder and curiosity. The human world demands logic and labour, Rafayel understands that better than anyone. But he doesn’t want that world to find its way into your life and the life you both share. He wants you to retain that wonder for the world. To rekindle that affection it holds as your eyes become mesmerized once more with its beauty. He wants you to remember the joys you took in your interests and hobbies and to make time for them over materialistic consumption and shallow pastimes. Nights of playing games, throwing riddles at one another, painting together, learning a new hobby, reading, or just chatting the night away until you both pass out.

No expectations. Rafayel goes into the relationship with no expectations from you. He doesn’t want to place your relationship into a mold. You both experienced too many life times of that. In this new world, with this new opportunity, Rafayel prefers watching your relationship’s unregulated growth. Life is short and every decision comes with consequences. Knowing that, Rafayel still chooses unconventional paths, even if they don’t make sense to him, he knows he prefers the unknown unconventional to the conventional path his heart is rejecting.

Artistic temperament. Mood swings. Intensity. Passion. Listlessness. Weeks of focus followed by months of being lost in his own world. All humans are artistic, but most avoid displaying their true behaviours. But Rafayel is not ashamed of his personality. If you share his artistic temperament, he encourages you to be yourself around him. If you too get lost in your own world, he wants to dive in with you. He doesn’t ridicule or scoff when doubt enters your mind, or when you find yourself questioning your existence or purpose. Even if you don’t share his temperament, he encourages you to dig dip and discover yourself through art. A life with Rafayel is a life of depth and meaning.

Fun. Life with Rafayel is fun. He’s been alive for so long he’s learned how to keep the magic of life alive. Life never falls into a set pattern or rhythm with him. It will never become humdrum and boring. He is someone you can fully trust, but never fully understand. He’s always slipping in and out of your fingers. When we lose someone, we lose the language we built with them. The language was only understood between the two of you, and, above all, that is what we mourn the loss of most. This holds true to Rafayel. A language built over lifetimes filled with teasing, sass, sarcasm, riddles, stories, and questions, all make Rafayel into a familiar enigma.

Emotionally reliable. Lemurians can see more colours than humans, who is to say they can’t experience or express more emotions? Can’t articulate your emotions well? Grew up being told to shove them down? Accustomed to wearing a mask and putting up a wall? Rafayel knows the feeling all too well. He knows how cruel the world can be, as a god and as a fish out of water. He’s best friends with the agony of failure, the sharp bite of isolation and ache of loneliness. With Rafayel, you don’t need to speak for him to understand. Yes, he will confront you to pull out what you want to desperately hide, but he will never ridicule you or expect your negative emotions to just go away. He encourages you to bring them up to the surface and express them akin to how waves crash onto the shore, recede, then crash again.

Companionship. Holding hands, pecks, entwining arms and legs are salves to Rafayel. The distance a god must carry. The pedestal a famous artist must stand on, and the centuries of being alone have made Rafayel crave companionship. It doesn’t always have to be physical affection, but just having that proximity with someone. To come into a room and hear a voice. To wake up to someone placing a blanket on top of him after another all-nighter. To ask someone about their day and hear concerns on his health. To look behind him and see you sitting nearby doing your own thing. Rafayel knows how to cherish mere existence after going so long without it, but to see someone doing the same for him is new. After all, what god can grant their own wishes? What god is even allowed to wish?

A life with Rafayel is to die knowing you have lived

[writing-makes-me-human]

🌊Love And Guests🌊

┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑

Pairing: Aonung x reader

PART TWO: HERE

Summary: Aonung has put out your usual sass with his recent flirting and it’s driving you insane. When he finally gets to speak with you alone as he shows off his spear throwing expertise it gets heated quickly

Warnings: Sexual tension and heated word choices, no smut but it gets close, mention of genitals 

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: No updates, I’m getting back into writing after months of breaks so I’m sorry if i’m rusty.  Also I feel like it goes without saying that Aonung is of age in all of my writing. I am not just writing about a minor, you are close in age. 19 years old.

┕━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━┙

"I still don't know why you think it's better that I teach you instead of my brother", Tsireya warmly suggested as she handed you a beginner's spear to practice with.

"Because I want to learn from the best", was all you managed to say as you took the spear in your hands and inspected it with wandering hands.

The real reason you were so eager to meet up with Tsireya instead of Aonung was laughable. Aonung had been playing a dangerous game with your feelings, making you feel a way you shouldn't to fuel your thoughts about the chief's son. Avoiding the brat to the best of your abilities for weeks now was the only way you could fight the fact you were slowly starting to become infatuated with the boy that was growing into a young man.

He had become cocky now that he was of age, and while he still had a few years of learning left before becoming chief, it had become clear his training was making him more and more defined. The way his body moved with every hearty laugh or every faux wrestling match with his friends drove you up the wall, so you decided it was best to try and stop seeing him altogether.

However, this was becoming a challenge as he had recently decided to spend more of his free time harassing you than anyone else. It was very confusing, as you thought you had put this bullying behind you when you were children. That could easily be forgotten, though, as he was indeed still the next leader, and that could explain his rudeness, but what couldn't be helped was the blush that overgrew you every time he towered over you with that smirk that he didn't know affected you in such unforgiving ways.

"Well, thank you, I'm flattered", she giggled, then continued, "but Aonung is the top in the clan at spear throwing, and he's not gonna be happy if he finds out you asked me instead of him", she never felt bad for her brother. Still, when it came to the matter of his undying yet, painfully expressed crush on you, she felt merciful.

You scoffed, squaring yourself next to her as you looked towards the targets drawn on the ground.

The target range for spear-throwing was closer to the village than any of the other training areas because you needed the clear ground to allow a large windup for hurling the stick through the air. It was still private, which you enjoyed because you had a feeling this was going to be an embarrassingly miserable display of physical prowess.

The targets were set up in the distance and made up of 3 circles of fine white sand sprinkled in precise shapes on the ground. Tsireya had already collected the sand earlier in the day and laid out the rings in exchange for you to be the one that churned the sand into the dirt when you were done so the next person who came to train could easily set up the rings and get started.

"I don't think I could handle his smugness at having me asking him a favor", you smiled at her, holding up the spear like you had seen Aonung and his friends do when they came here to learn when you were younger.

It was the truth. Honestly, you wouldn't have been able to handle his smug looks or laugh or the fact that to teach you meant one on one time by yourselves. You would prefer being lectured by Ronal, and that was saying something.

She nodded, trying to copy you as she held up the pointed end of the spear into the air, getting herself ready to fling the wooden spike. The artillery was too large for her, and you watched in curiosity as she heaved it up a little higher with a grunt.

"Alright, so what you want to do is pull back and using your back leg, you want to push--" she was cut off by the sound of laughter in the near vicinity. Before she could resume her instructions, you heard the sound of foliage and leafs being broken as a group of four boys emerged into the clearing, each of them but one with their spears by their side.

Aonung was still laughing at something Rotxo had said, but when he looked up and saw you, with your arms still raised as his sister mirrored you, he felt his heart skip a beat and his face light up with delight.

You cursed under your breath and dropped the stick like it was a venomous snake, instantly turning around to hide your slightly tinged face.

This was so unfair! He hadn't even said anything so far. All he had done was smile and laugh! He never had this much of a hold on you when he was younger. As he got older and his hair grew past his shoulders, and his muscles became larger, you became less aware of what to do with yourself.

"I have to go", you mumbled, feeling the tinge fade as you turned to pick up the burlap sack you had brought with you and leave for the village.

"Well, what is going on here?" Aonung called out in the conceited tone he saved for when he was talking to you. His deep voice boomed around the clearing, forcing its way into your ears and silencing the chatter between his other friends.

You didn't respond and instead made your way in the opposite direction they had come from, but before you could escape, a few words were yelled out, making your face nearly melt off your skull and onto the floor below you.

"Somewhere to be, pretty girl?" Aonung called out while his friends spread out, tossing down their training gear and lunches they had packed in preparation for a few hours of training.

You turned sharply, trying to calm your breathing so the blood would move from the gathering in your cheeks down to your heart which desperately needed the extra help because the poor thing was beating overtime.

"Just remembered I have somewhere to be", you said rather awkwardly, not allowing yourself to come across as timid but not quite having the energy to yell back at him with the same enthusiasm.

"Oh, come on! You said you wanted to learn from the best, and he's right here!" Tsireya spoke. She lay down her spear next to yours and jogged up to you. She grinned as she gently tugged on your hand, coaxing you to come and stand to talk to the boys who were checking over their weapons.

You sighed, then gave in, dropping the sack and letting her drag you over to Aonung, who was still standing in the same spot. As you walked over, he had a proud smile etched on his face, and you wanted nothing more than to slap it off.

Your face dropped so you could look anywhere but into his eyes that would have caught you in his dangerous trap of good looks and gentle teasing and never let you go.

"Come on, teach her!" Tsireya was far too excited, nearly jumping up and down while her older brother rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Who said I wanted to help?" He snarkly asked, then continued, "and next time you're thinking of using my spear, ask!" He spat, gesturing to the spike that was laid on the ground rather carelessly. That cleared up the question of why the spear had nearly tipped her over when she held it up.

She elbowed him roughly in the chest with her free arm causing him to bend down a little in pain and scowl at her, but no sound of agony came out.

He quickly straightened himself and snarled at Tsireya, but she gave him a pointed look before her eyes darted to you several times. After a few seconds, he finally got her unspoken threat and sighed, pushing past the both of you to walk over to collect his projectile.

You ignored the feeling of his hand burning on your shoulder as he pushed between you two, breaking the hold Tsireya had on you.

"Come on, pretty girl, let's see what you can do", he called out, not bothering to turn around because he knew you'd be following.

You looked over to Tsireya before you elbowed her yourself, questioning her with a look. She knew you didn't want to speak with him, yet here he was and instead of ushering him away, she had insisted he teaches you.

She simply shrugged at you and pushed you forward before running off to sit next to her brother's friends.

You passed by Rotxo and nodded to him in greetings which he returned before tucking into the fruits he had brought with him. He was chatting with his friends, who all found a spot under a nearby tree that was far enough away from the targets that they wouldn't hear you and Aonung's words to each other but still close enough that they could still see any funny failings.Your eyes settled on Aonung's back, and you took a deep breath, you didn't even have the shame to look away when he crouched down and picked up his spear, checking it over for dirt or marks.

"You watch me first, then you try", he said, glancing over to see you were watching him with eyes slightly wide at the idea of trying to copy his expert throw with an audience.

He smiled at you, which caused you to blush and break the stare you had been holding on his body, which only made him grin, thus continuing the terrible cycle.

"Eyes on me, nobody else is watching, so you can look at me as much as you want", he called you out with a smirk when you finally scowled, giving him a reaction that he couldn't help but chuckle at.

"I worry for anybody that enjoys looking at you", you hissed while taking a step back, knowing he would have to have some space to move when he threw the spike.

He didn't say anything this time but didn't have to. His eyes spoke for him as they shone like the sea on a sunny day.

"So she speaks! I was beginning to worry!" He watched you roll your eyes in amusement with a slight smile on your face, and he silently swore at himself in his head for turning so you wouldn't see his sly grin that he only got when he made you happy.

"Let's start", he wasted no more time and held the wooden stick over his head. You watched with slightly awestruck eyes as his body moved so purposefully.

He raised the spear, and using his other arm, he aimed to secure the direction he was throwing in. He could feel your eyes on him, and it made him cocky. He wanted to show off, to show you he was strong and worthy of praise.

He pulled back his left leg, then after taking a breath, he threw it with as much strength as it took to land directly in the centre of the target. They were far closer than he usually had them, but it was to be expected since you were a beginner.

The weapon shot through the air before the sharp spearhead dug into the ground with a thud, landing directly in the centre of the most petite ring. A perfect bullseye.

He leaned back with a satisfied grin. He turned to look at you with the hopes you would be at least slightly impressed. You were still staring, mouth open in an 'o' shape, struck somewhat by just how gifted at the sport he was, and it made a part of his internal body tingle when you turned with the look changing from amazement to an affectionate smile.

"I'll admit you aren't bad, I've seen worse", you couldn't help the smile anymore. He always had a way of killing off your anxiety, and right now was no different. His cocky grin made your heart speed up, but your mind just wanted to insult him until he dropped.

"If that's all it takes to impress you, I am afraid to know how easy it is to please you", he took no shame in his words, and your smile quickly dropped to embarrassed growls as you hid your face, turning to look over at his friends that were all talking to Tsireya about something at the same time. The discussion looked heated, and none of them paid attention to you two.

You watched, eyes as focused as ever. 

"Arrogant brat", was all you could get out as you looked down at your feet and kicked at the dirt.

"Oh, did I touch a nerve? I didn't know you were such a goody-goody", he didn't wait for your smart-ass answer and walked off to tug his spear out of the ground sharply. Your mind was reeling as you heard a soft grunt escape his lips as he yanked his prize out of the ground.

You shook your head and bent down to pick up the training spear you had been given, not taking notice of your position that had your back to the sky until you felt a hand smack into your backside harshly.

The slap was loud, making your face turn scarlet red as you jumped up, abandoning the spike to glare at Aonung with a death stare.

You were shocked, he had never been so bold with his teasing, and while it wouldn't have crossed a line had you been alone, you could feel the four pairs of eyes gawking at the back of your head.

"Don't", you gently warned. You didn't want to admit it, and you knew it was wrong, and the pompous imp should have been ashamed of himself, Aonung should have been on his hands and knees begging to be forgiven, but a part of your brain was fighting not to jump his bones right now and embarrass him in front of his friends.

And he dared to look proud of himself as he laughed at your face, raising his hand in a half-assed attempt to hide the smile while you geared up to smack him across the face.

He noted how livid you looked and sighed. He hadn't meant to offend you. But when he was walking back and saw how your ass was staring at him like that, he couldn't resist the temptation.

"All right, I'm sorry" he held his hands up in surrender as a beam of playfulness poured from his eyes as a flirtatious grin overtook him.

"If you want to touch my body, ask, coward", you bit back, letting yourself grin as he took his turn of letting his mouth go slack at your actions.

"What's wrong pretty boy? Need some help?" you chuckled, nodding your head south. His eyes followed yours with a confused quirk on his brow as he looked down, and his eyes widened as he nervously took in that he had a half chub under his loin cloth.

You took a step back from him, feeling the heat between your legs signal it was time to go before you made some terrible mistakes that led you both behind a tree somewhere doing things you wanted to make him wait for.

He couldn't take his eyes off you, and as you felt the roles reversing, you suddenly understood why Aonung found the teasing so fun.

He looked back up at your smug face and peeked toward the group behind you with a silent plea in his eyes. Don't drag their attention down to his excitement.

"You need to learn some manners, Aonung, it's not becoming of the next chief to be so blatant in public, you've really hurt my feelings", you gave a dramatic exaggeration of a pout to him while your hands came to lay on your heart.

He was blocked from the sight line of his peers by where you were standing, but one step to the left or right and even from this distance, it was undeniable that he was hard.

He hadn't moved to cover his crotch yet but he dropped the spear, staring at you with begging eyes. It seemed that your sudden 360 from being a blushed-out lovesick moron to a vengeful demon had done nothing to ease him down, if anything, you made it worse.

You leaned forward, taking great pleasure in standing on your feet a little to get even with his ear, your hot breath panted onto his neck and he couldn't do anything to stop you. One move, and you'd be exposing him to his closest friends.

"Compared to me, I think it's you that's easy to please", you smiled, and he hated how he could feel the heat from your mouth as your teeth came so close to his neck that it drove him mad.

You quickly pulled away and smiled when you saw his eyes were closed, he was focusing on his breathing like he had you doing from his actions so many times before, and it felt so good to see him like this. A grown man that was bigger than you in every way imaginable was trying to calm his breath over you and your words.

"Well, this has been fun, but I'll see you later, Aonung", you felt confident for the first time in weeks and slowly, you felt the old you coming back, the sarcastic you that had just as much bark in you as Aonung.

You turned to leave, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to him, not quite flush against his body, lest one of the others looked up again and saw you two so close.

"Wait a few minutes, then follow me", he didn't give you the time to reply once again as he picked up the spear and finally had the dignity to cover himself with his free hand before walking off to go deeper into the forest without so much as a glance back.

Oh, you knew you shouldn't. You should turn around and leave, let the warrior get himself off in the forest like the animal he was acting like. Still, the heat that had signaled you to go nearly 5 minutes ago had grown, and you knew that even if it wasn't visible, your body was nearly 10x as horny as Aonung was.

You wanted him.

But you knew you couldn't mate here, and certainly not like this.

'Leave, leave leave', your mind screamed as your feet took step after step of their own volition after him.

You worried for a second that somebody would call out to you and ask where you were going, but a part of you knew that everyone had already worked out the nature of what was going on with you two. They had all been staring at you after he slapped your ass, so they must have.

"I'll just talk to him", you finally muttered to yourself as you set off in a faster pace, going off to find him.

[abilouwrites]

Hihi I was hoping I could request enemies to lovers Zuko x fem!reader?

The reader is a traitor to the fire nation and can bend fire (also a street peformer before she joined the gaang? 👀) 💕💕

Omg getting a request just made my day I love these!!!

I hope you like it 🫶🫶🫶

YOURE STILL A TRAITOR

Id like to say that my life is good, that I’m happy where I am but I’m not. I’m upset and frustrated; but most of all I’m living on the street, preforming stupid acrobatic tricks just to feed myself. I’ve left everything behind. My family and wealth but most importantly someone I never wanted to live without.

I’m upside down when I see them; soft flames coming from the soles of my bare feet. Resting on my forearms and twisting and contorting my body.

“You.” A teenaged girl approaches me and I turn right side up, “you’re a fire bender aren’t you!” She says, “what’s your name?”

“Uh” I stare at her and smile nervously, “y/n Huǒ” I repeat slowly, and quietly. People of the fire nation know the traitor I’ve become outside the walls of the fire nation. Meeting the avatar, going against my friends for his life. All because I believed in something greater than all of this.

“I know you” a boy says, bandana around his forehead, “your grandpa, Yújìn. I know- or knew him” He says

“Oh.” Realization hits my face, “you’re the avatar!” A short girl slaps me.

“Wow way to tell everyone!” She retorts, god are little kids sassy.

“You could teach Aang firebending” Katara says, it’s hard not to know someone’s name when there’s wanted posters all over town.

“I’m good at fire bending but I’m no master” I say, “I thought Prince Zuko abandoned the throne to teach you” I ask

“Well he’s uh.. learning a new way to firebend” Toph laughs a little and I smile awkwardly.

“I don’t bend very traditionally” I reply, “but if it will get me off the streets I guess why not” I stand up straighter and brush my hair out of my face.

“You brought that back?!” Zuko shouts, we’ve had a long history. One that includes a betrothal, and a knife to the gut. He looks at me with disgust which I’m not surprised at.

“I’m a girl. Not a thing!” I cry out, “the only reason I’m here is because Aang needs a firebending teacher because you suck!” I scoff out at him, there’s fire burning in his hands but I never raise mine.

He groans at me, “you’ve always been like this! Even when”

“Zuko I don’t want to talk about that” I warn, there’s a plea in my voice but he accepts that, “it was a long time ago”

“Yeah like it was that long ago” he sasses and I roll my eyes.

“Zuko!”

It doesn’t take long for things to settle down; I’m essentially useless now that Zuko has gotten his bending back. Even if he did it how I told him to do it all along but whatever.

The bickering still happens, and I want to throw a knife at him but part of me still loves him. I didn’t hate being betrothed to him as much as I thought I did.

“Did you ever miss us?” I ask him, “after you were banished. I refused to Azula to give away your location and then the Avatars when you wrote me” I confess, “so I left”

“I think. At first I did, but I don’t— I don’t think we would’ve worked together. We fight all the time. I hated you at first. And you hated me” He admits, looking down slightly. He sighs heavily

“Yeah. I guess. But I didn’t really hate- hate you” I admit, “I missed you. I liked knowing you”

He nods, “I did like knowing you too, you’ve changed so much. I mean your fire it’s pink” he laughs

“Maybe it’s from my bubbly personality” I tease, he laughs

“You. Have a bubbly personality!” He laughs and it’s so good to hear, “you were so shy, like if I sneezed too hard I would scare you”

I smile softly, “I’ve changed so much sense I was twelve” my hair falls around my face and he tucks the loose strand around my ear

“What now that you’re fourteen?” He teases softly, his hand lingers behind my ear. But he removes himself quickly.

“Zuko. Im fifteen” I remind him, it’s embarrassing when he says he knows how my heart flutters and I feel weak in the knees.

“I remember, once you turned eighteen we would’ve” he looks away with a blush on his cheeks

“Yeah. Gotten married” I laugh, and I keep laughing because the thought of getting married feels so small and childish to the war we’re supposed to be preparing for.

He laughs; rolling laughs that make me keep laughing. My laughs turn short and wheezy before his face straightens, “are you ok? Can you breathe?” His face turns to me and he smiles seeing my smile. It’s a smile that makes my cheeks hurt and heart race.

“As the Prince of the fire nation. I’m supposed to hate you. Because you’ve betrayed our nation. But as Zuko. As your Zuko. In this moment I don’t feel anything but hate. I feel love for you. A fire that I never want to put out” he tells me, scooting closer to me. I let him cradle my face, “I never hated you”

“I never hated you either” a weak laugh escapes me but he kisses me before it truly develops. It’s a kiss that devours me whole, wrapping itself into my heart and soul.

“If we make it through this. Let’s make good on that betrothal”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Girl Dad! Javier Peña

Girl Dad!Javi who was once terrified to be a dad to daughters, wondering how in the world he could ever be the right person to raise and protect his sweet girls from the dangers of the world he knew all too well

Girl Dad!Javi who hopes that his girls grow up to be just like you- tough, strong and independent

Girl Dad!Javi who loves spoiling his daughters, and will not stop buying them cute outfits and accessories (especially when they're younger) because of how adorable they'll look in them

Girl Dad!Javi who will happily play anything his daughters ask him to- Barbies, princesses, tea parties, unicorns? You name it, he'll do it. He'll even dress for the part, too, just to make his girls giggle when he puts on a tutu and sparkly tiara

Girl Dad!Javi who loves his girl gang so much, he's always asking if you want to have another baby and give your daughters another sister to play with

Girl Dad!Javi who always lets everyone know how much he loves his girls. His friends and co-workers always used to ask him if he wishes he had a son, or if he gets sick of dealing with his daughters, but they learned to stop asking that real fast after Javi gave them an ear full about how much he loved everything about being a girl dad and what a stupid question that was

Girl Dad!Javi who keeps every single piece of artwork his daughters have ever given him. He's got a file folder in his desk overflowing with scribbles of puppies, rainbows, and god knows how much glitter, but he can't bring himself to get rid of anything

Girl Dad!Javi who constantly sings Disney Princess songs to himself, because after the 74th time of watching The Little Mermaid this week, how could they not be

Girl Dad!Javi who learns how to braid so he can help do his daughter's hair before school in the morning. He'll admit, it's not perfect, and he hates those little clear elastics, but he loves getting to spend a little extra one on one time with his girls. He even practices on you when the two of you are hanging out in bed before you go to sleep

Girl Dad!Javi who loves taking his girls to Chucho's ranch to do chores around the farm, teaching them all the in's and out's of how to take care for the animals, use tools, problem solve and work hard. He's also not above bribing them with extra pony rides as incentive to work a little longer

Girl Dad!Javi who shows up to every single practice, game, recital, and school event the girls are apart of, because there is nothing more important to him than making sure his girls know he'll always be there for them.

Girl Dad!Javi who has to remember to not get too upset when his girls give him sass, knowing damn well they inherited all of their stubbornness and strong will from him

Girl Dad!Javi who has absolutely zero tolerance for any misogynistic bullshit he encounters, trying to do what he can to make the world a better place for his daughters to grow up in

Girl Dad!Javi who teaches everything he would have taught to his son to his girls- how to change a tire, mow the lawn, fix things around the house, toss a football, throw a punch, the list goes on and on. He never wants his girls to feel like they need to rely on anyone else to get things done

Girl Dad!Javi who desperately tries to keep up to date on all the things his girls are into, even if it means listening to one too many boy bands on their trips to and from soccer practice (He'll never admit how much he secretly loves One Direction). Not because he necessarily needs his daughters to think he's cool, but because what's important to them is important to him

Girl Dad!Javi who always encourages his daughters to stand up for themselves. Even if they may end up getting in trouble for something questionable, Javi still can't help be proud of the little badasses his girls are

Girl Dad!Javi who tries to act all cool and tough the first time his oldest daughter goes on a date, but has to keep from crying once she leaves, wondering how his little girl has grown up so fast

Girl Dad!Javi who wouldn't trade being a girl dad for anything else in the world, and is so proud of the amazing daughters he's raised with you 🥹

A/N: I will personally fight anyone who doesn't think that Javi is the king of girl dads. You know that man is SUCH a softie and would love his daughters with his whole heart. I will not be taking further questions at this time. Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Long live Girl Dad Javi 🫡

[gatorbites-imagines]

Mark grayson x male reader with the powers of john Constantine? Maybe Mark on a mission involving demons and after some trouble Cecil reluctantly decides to call the reader for help

Mark Grayson x Constantine Male Reader

Headcanons

Guess who’s been ignoring his exam prep and watching YouTube instead? This guy. Reader is also a little older than the other characters, but how much older you can choose for yourself.

Demons weren’t something completely out of the norm for the heroes of this world. Way too many so called villains would summon low grade demons and imps to wreak havoc. Very few were actually able to summon sentient and powerful beings.

Invincible had been sent in since theyd just thought it would be like every other weak magician who thought they could take over the world. That was until the demon that appeared was actually one of the well-known demons from the bible.

Other heroes were called in, like the newer guardians of the globe. But even they didn’t stand a chance against this demon, who was getting a little too close to civilization for the GDAs comfort.

As much as Cecil hates it, he knows he has to call you. You’ve never had any respect for the GDA, for the government, and had always insulted heroes to their face, calling them government bootlickers and the likes.

Cecil would have locked you away a while ago, if you weren’t so damn good at what you did. There was also the fact that he, and the magicians he had on hand, were pretty damn sure you could unleash hell itself on earth if you wanted, so they were cautious.

You also just happen to be kind of a dick, though mainly to Cecil. For some reason you’ve always gotten along well with Donald for a reason the GDA doesn’t understand. You just know he’s a great guy though, which is why you’ll treat him a little better.

So with great reluctance, since he knows youre gonna be rubbing this in his face and ribbing him, Cecil contacts you. He would most likely have to use some kind of spell or sigil, since there’s no way you’d share your number with this guy, or pick up if he called.

The guardians of the globe and Mark aren’t really sure what to expect when they hear Cecil sigh over their earpieces. He sounds more exhausted and agitated than any of them have ever made him, which says a lot.

Cecil barely gets to explain who you are before you swagger out of a portal in your trench coat and a to-go coffee cup in your hand with your preferred drink.

Immortal and Robot are probably the only ones who know who you are. Immortal cuz hes worked with you in the past, and Robot cuz he’s a creep that knows too much, and there’s no way he wouldn’t know about someone as powerful as you.

The heroes would already be over your shit, since you paid way too much for this drink to let it go to waste. So, you are gonna stand here, and you are gonna finish your drink, and then you are gonna help.

Mark must acknowledge that you are pretty hot, with your exhausted features and the tired but knowing look in your eyes. Its like you know exactly what you are looking at, and like you know exactly what to do.

The heroes get thrown around a bit more, just for your own humor and cuz you know they can take it. them yelling at you in frustration just makes you pick at your nails and sass them, telling them you came here out of the goodness of your heart, and you feel so attacked right now?

Its only when Mark crashes into the ground right beside you, and this cute traffic light yellow guy with cracked goggles and a bloody nose politely asks you to help that you decide, sure, why not. It’s also definitely because of the cute pout on his lips and the puppy eyes he’s giving you form the crater he’s in.

You give him what’s left of your too expensive drink, telling him some flirty comment about “watch and learn, invincible”. You make air quotes with your fingers when you use his hero name, since nobody is invincible, even viltrumites. You know this since you’ve stumbled across quite a lot of them in hell over the years.

His small blush is very cute though, which makes you decide to wrap this up real quick.

To none of Cecil’s surprise. You know this demon, and it owes you a pretty big favor. You don’t use your favor obviously, why would you do that? Theres better things to use a demons favor for. Instead, you just use a good chunk of spells, sigils, and other magic arts to cast them back to hell.

Cue some complaining from multiple members of the guardians of the globe. If you could do that from the very beginning, why did you keep watching them get thrown around like that?

As they complain and argue around you, you just swagger back to where Mark was sitting cutely and sipping on your drink. It shouldn’t shock you a guy like him likes whatever sweet monstrosity you bought. Fits his cute smile at least.

Immortal doesn’t even argue with you, knowing its like talking to a damn wall. Except the wall claps back, and will be petty enough not to help you next time.

It also doesn’t shock Cecil when you ask Mark out for lunch, since you’re a known flirt. You also may be a flirt, but you are damn loyal, so he can’t even say to Mark you’re a bad partner.

Marks eyes widen comically, sputtering around the drink he had been nursing when you just dropped that on him. His face goes bright red, since no one has ever actually asked him out, especially so boldly.

He fumbles for a bit, but he does end up stuttering out a yes. He doesn’t know you too well yet, and neither do you know him, but what could lunch together hurt? So he ends up clutching your number, and sigil, on a piece of paper in his hand, as you portal away again.

The place is still a damn mess from the demon’s rampage, but Mark feels extra weightless as he helps clean up, not even really paying attention to some of the others complaining about how you left without helping clean up.

[oristian]

Elain is much better suited for the male who is associated with sunshine, traveling, court gatherings, cunning and sass. The male who travelled to the mortal continent on a whim from her visions. The male who asked to learn more about her, and, six months later, remembered the detail of her being happiest while gardening with gloves—which is what he brought her for Solstice. The male who was the first and only character to verbally credit her for helping kill the King of Hybern.

The male who ran across an entire battlefield just to make sure she was alright. The male who understands that she needs space and gives her such so that she can be comfortable, despite how it pains him to be away. The male who gave up his home and best friend to come and be closer her, to get to know her. The male who saw through her murky state and declared that she needed to go outdoors—which is what ultimately helped her. The male who continues to work as an emissary for the Night Court just to be close to her. The male who is her mate, who was handpicked by a higher power just for her.

Azriel is much better suited for the female who has also experienced the depths of darkness, but chooses to smile at it instead of run and hide. The female who would rather die alongside her friend than to let her face their enemies alone. The female who pushes and pushes and never gives up, despite the circumstances. The female who sees his shadows as more than an accessory and smiles at them. The female who also lost a piece of innocence unwillingly and viewed herself as tainted and unworthy, but is making strides in improving her image of herself internally. The female who has seen him in his own darkness—the one he hides from others—and instead chooses to be around him.

The female who understands that he would rather be alone, but stays because he wants her to. The female who experiences similar responses to late-night stressors and chooses to train. The female that he feels an indescribable pull towards, and one that brings a smile to his face at just the thought of her. The female that chose bravery over fear when her friends needed her most of all. The female who thrives on knowledge and enjoys learning new things. The first female Valkyrie reborn, the first female Carynthian, a warrior. The female who has been foreshadowed to be his mate, handpicked just for him.

The list can go on and on for either of them, but long story short—I much prefer Elain and Azriel to end up with the male and female who is portrayed as their equal.

[charnelhouse]

I feel like Joel would be best at ‘you almost got yourself killed and I’m so angry at you but I love you also’ fucking

A/N: Joel Miller x F!Reader. Lack of CPR knowledge. Smut. Hypothermia. I used this gif bc he looks really fucking hot ok

Joel dreams of you often. He doesn’t tell you this, refuses to admit it as if the confession of dreams would somehow weaken his defenses. In the foggy, wooly vortex of sleep, he sees you:

Dead.

Broken.

Covered in spores. 

It irritates him. He has learned the brutal, ragged details of loss and having nightmares about the girl he’s fucking is not good. It means that some tiny unconscious piece of him fears for you-to lose you would sting. It is a chip in his armor. A weakness. 

He lies in his makeshift bed as he stares up at a ceiling speckled with moss and water damage. You’re curled against him, bare ass snug against his thigh. He takes deep pulls from a bottle of dust and whiskey. Between his legs, his cock is soft and damp from fucking you into the mattress. His back smarts from your nails and he doesn’t understand how their sex is so aggressive and yet he finds you in his head afterward. He’s fucked countless people. Never cared. It’s his psyche that worries about you when it should be flat, pulse-less and numb in the dark. 

His gaze slides to you sleeping beside him. Your face is buried in the sweatshirt serving as a pillow, your mouth parted around steady, even breathing. Swamped in moonlight, you’re beautiful—the kind of beauty that would get you killed or worse out there. That’s why I keep, right? Some leftover smugness at having someone like you with someone like me?

He leans over your body, the bottle swishing its dregs of old whisky. With gentle fingers, he maneuvers your hair away from your face, he touches your lower lip before abruptly pulling away. 

Not good. 

***

Being who he is, Joel keeps fucking you. He tries to be a little meaner—colder—but he’s not man enough to release you in order to find someone less complicated to warm his bed.  

You stick by him like a barnacle. A very pearly one. Smooth and shiny. 

“We have things to do,” he declares one morning, the slip of red dawn drifting over your skin from the narrow window. 

“Alright,” you murmur as you roll out of bed and shove on your jeans. 

You don’t complain or whine, which he hates. He’d love for you to backtalk him. He’d die for an ounce of sass or bitchiness, but you’re too fucking smart for that. You know what it costs. You know that he’ll use it against you and then chastise you for wastin’ time because this is what they do now. This is how the world works. 

Someone took something from us and I intend to get it back.

Us. 

When did it become us? 

Fuck.

***

They follow the road at the edge of the forest. The woods stink of loam–sweet and dark. The first snow has powdered the ground.

The cold is wicked, binding his limbs together and reminding him of his age. He’s not really that old. It’s only been eight years since the outbreak (his birthday). 

“I hate winter,” you grumble, the subtle evidence of your frustration that you’ve been forced out here to begin with. Most of the time, he thinks he should keep you at his place when he runs these missions, but he’s decided that you’re safer with him. He doesn’t miss the way the creepy old fucks look at you and there’s no such thing as locks. Not now. Not here.

“Fuck!” you yelp and Joel hears your boots skid, knee cracking on asphalt. “Shit. Shitt.”

“C’mon,” he grunts, not even looking. He doesn’t want to. He thinks that if he sees you in pain, he’ll go to you.

You curse a few more times before your footsteps sound again.

You catch up to him with alarming speed, casting him a violent glare. “What if I’d broken something?”

“I’d come back for you after I handle the Waltons.”

“Sure,” you reply flatly. “Probably drag me back home by my ankle.”

His lips twitch. They’re making good time, maneuvering rapidly through the dense woods toward the lake. His adrenaline is spiking, his fingers curling as he prepares himself for the inevitable fight. “Hardly, sweetheart,” he replies. “I’d wrap a rope around your waist—pull you that way.”

“Cruel.”

“You’ve always known that, darlin’.”

“You’re–”

He freezes and then abruptly grabs you before pulling you against a tree. One of the Waltons is outside their cabin, chopping wood. Behind him, the smoke puffs from the chimney. Black-gray against the too-blue sky. 

“We wait until he goes inside,” he whispers against your ear. You’re bleeding-hot and his hand is secured right under your breast. Surprisingly, your heart pulses at an easy rhythm. You aren’t scared or nervous. You’re calm as can be and really that’s probably why he keeps you around.

And maybe the sex. 

***

It’s fucked. The whole damn thing. 

Joel is covered in blood, two fingers definitely broken. The man on top of him has him in a chokehold and he’s shoving back against him, trying to find some leverage to flip him over. 

He hasn’t heard you for a minute and when he lifts his head, he sees one of the Walton boys—the greasy, blonde one—pinning you against the dock. You’re too far away from Joel as he watches you kick and spit like a feral cat. 

You don’t call for him. You don’t scream his name or beg him for help and it’s because you’re too fucking proud and you probably think he’d get fucking mad at you or something, which isn’t the case. 

So, he shouts your name. Why? He doesn’t know. It bursts out of him as the head Walton punches him in the ribs.

“Ss’fine,” you yell back and then the sun catches the silver blade of your pocket knife. It flashes once before disappearing and the blonde Walton squeals.

Thatta girl, he thinks. The expression feels tender—sweet with pride and he’s so caught up in watching you stab the kid that he doesn’t realize what’s going on until it’s too late. 

The blonde snags your jacket and rolls you both into the frigid lake. 

Joel doesn’t think. He may have roared or bellowed, but he wouldn’t know. He can’t recall. Instead, he plants his hands and snaps his head back into his attacker’s nose. It cracks. Splatters. He feels heat on his scalp and in his hair. The weight on him is gone and he twists, finding his knife a few feet away in the snow. He snatches the handle, flips it and plunges the blade forward. It goes through the guy’s chest—finds bone. He rips it back and does it again. A third time in a more vulnerable spot beneath the bastard’s jaw. There’s blood on his face, but he can’t worry about that now.

He runs to the lake. 

***

“C’mon, girl,” he whispers frantically as he performs CPR. Your lips are cold as a fish belly. Your lashes wet and stuck together in clumps. He presses against your chest so hard that he worries he’ll break a rib. 

You weren’t even under that long.

He pumps and then pinches your nose and breathes into your mouth. C’mon. C’mon. C’mon. 

You twitch. Yes. You choke. Better.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he urges.

Your eyes fly open as you sputter, coughing up icy lake water that dampens Joel’s jeans. Relieved, he sighs, placing his hands on your shoulders to keep you from moving too quickly. His fingers have begun to smart, the knuckles swelling to purple.

He’s not sure what to say as you blink up at him—incredulous and a little frightened. WIthout thinking, he darts down and kisses you hard. It might not even be considered a kiss. Just an angry collision of teeth and a hint of tongue. He tries to warm your mouth with his own before pulling away. He didn’t intend to do that.

“Joel?” you rasp, lids drooping heavily.

“You almost died,” he states in a flat voice. Should he comfort you? Reassure you that you’re fine? He’s not sure how to do that. He’d done it before with Sarah, but–

He shudders, stuffing that thought somewhere he’ll not touch.

“J-Joel.” Your teeth are chattering in your mouth. Your eyes slightly unfocused. “Mm cold.”

“Well,” he replies matter-of-factly. “We can go in the cabin and figure that out.”

He says this like you couldn’t potentially die of hypothermia. 

***

Inside the house, a fire still burns. It’s orange-yellow as a Texas peach and his mouth instinctively waters. He hasn’t had fresh fruit in a long ass time. 

Your fingers are curled into his shirt, your cheek pressed flat to his chest. You’re freezing—stiff and unyielding as a corpse. He places you on the rug in front of the fire before scouring the house for blankets and sheets. When he finds them, he makes a nest on the floor and then crouches down behind you to rub your shoulders. 

It doesn’t seem to do much because you’re still trembling. Your hair is soaked and your clothes–

Jesus. He’s a fucking idiot. 

“Lift your arms,” he murmurs, but you keep on shaking, seemingly unable to move them. He does it for you. He gets your jeans off, mindful of the areas where bruises will begin to form. “Did he hurt you?”

“S’nothing-g bad.” Your words are staggering into each other like you’re drunk. Not an ideal sign.

He scrubs a hand over his face, his beard. He exhales sharply as he watches you stammer and ripple like a ribbon in the wind. 

He’s on his knees in front of you—staring like a damn fool. “What do you need?”

Your hands fumble in the blankets, your expression puzzled. Shit. What are the symptoms of hypothermia? Confusion? Exhaustion?

He says your name softly and you make a broken noise that startles him.

He doesn’t know how to provide you reassurance. He understands actions. He understands pleasure. Isn’t the best way to heat someone up through skin contact?

He wrenches his jacket off before finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it over his head . He unbuckles his belt, shimmies out of his pants. You stare up at him, your eyes glassy and red. 

“Skin to skin,” he explains and when he opens his arms, you fall into them. You press yourself against him, curling your cold body inward as he attempts to cover you with his own. He strokes your arms, legs and waist. He maneuvers you around so that he can press his front to your torso. He grips your thigh and hauls it over his hip before pulling the musty blankets over them. He doesn’t want to think about how unwashed they probably are, but they don’t have a choice. 

He settles as you relax against him. Your heart pounds a brush faster than before. Good. 

“Rest,” he instructs. “You’re okay.”

It’s the best he can do.

***

It takes a few hours for you to return to yourself. You pull away so you can stare up at him. He tips his chin to hold your gaze, his hand finds your cheek. “You almost died,” he says and, suddenly, he thinks of the dreams he’s had. He thinks of you gone from him, vanishing into the dark where he can’t find you. 

He’d saved you today, but the next time? Surely, there would be a next time and—

“Thank you.” You lean into his touch, nuzzling your nose into the creases of his palm. Not as distressed as he would like.

“You almost died,” he repeats. “I could fucking kill you.”

Your eyes widen. “Why?”

“It was a stupid move.”

You frown. “Was there another option I had?”

“You could’ve not come with me.”

Your tongue darts across your lower lip as you lift an eyebrow. “Ah–so really this is about you.”

Of course it damn well is. It’s always him. He can’t afford you getting yourself stabbed or beaten or drowned.  

“I could kill you,” he growls as he grips your hips and flips you on your back, eliciting a yelp from your lungs. He wedges himself between your thighs, sliding his mouth over your puckered nipple and then your belly. 

You wiggle, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist. 

He kisses the scar beneath your ribs and then the top of your cunt. He licks the warm crease between your folds just to tease you before he climbs back up.

He plants his arms on either side of your head as he bears his weight above your body. He’s hard, his cock full and bobbing against his belly. He feels your small hand drift over his hip, the wiry hairs at his groin before it wraps firmly around his shaft. It jumps in your hand, desperate for you in a way he doesn’t mean to show.

“You can kill me,” you whisper and he drops his head to capture your lips. He thrusts his tongue into your mouth, slipping it behind your teeth. It’s a wet kiss–dirty and panicked and i fucking hate you so much because it’s so damn obvious that i don’t. You give him an experimental stroke, thumb pressing into the head. He grunts, jerking forward. 

“I want to feel you,” he confesses and it’s the most honest thing he can say here. Not i don’t want to see you dead ever. Not i really care about you. 

Just feel. 

You smile sweetly before guiding him into the molten suction of your pussy. It takes nothing for him to claim you. He sinks inside, straight to the hilt. He shoves his hips forward so that you’re forced to take all of him. Even when he’s buried balls deep, he leans on his arms, one hand clasping the top of your skull so he can push further. Your nails bite into his ass. You arch.

“Fuck,” you rasp, breath hitching. “Fuck–oh my god.”

They’re sealed together. Breasts crushed to his chest. Stomachs flattened. He uses his thighs to spread legs wider. He pins you there, enjoying the way your heart snaps against your ribs as if it could buffer his own.

“Thatta girl,” he coaxes, managing to plunge deeper. Something low vibrates in his throat. Something half-human. He can’t breathe, overwhelmed by the scent and feel of you, and so he sits aback on his heels, grips your knees and forces them against your tits. “You gonna take it for me?”

Your eyes roll back, cunt contracting around him. “Yes.” 

Not loud enough. He spanks you between your legs, right against the tender flesh wrapped around his cock. It hurts both of them. You whine and reach for him. Yes. Yes. Yes. Joel. Please. 

He eases himself out to the tip before driving forward. The force knocks you up the floor, causing your back to scrape against the wooly blankets. Another sharp thrust that punches a gasp from your throat. You shut your eyes, holding your legs open for him as he continues. It’s rough in its own way. Not the worst he’s done, but his strokes are deliberate and powerful. He fucks you hard enough that he can hear it. The slick noises that accompany every stab of his cock.

He has half a mind to say what he’s trying to through sex. When he’s nearing the end, he lowers himself over you, broken fingers pinching your chin. The pain in his hand welcome, adding a bite to the act itself. “Look at me,” he murmurs and you open your eyes. He fucks you and fucks you and every slam of his hips makes your lashes flutter. “Look, darlin’.”

“What?” you hiss because he’s taunting you –holding you firmly over the edge and shit–he loves that about you. When push comes to shove, you’ll make it known when you’re pissed. He loves the fact that you never screamed for him as you tried to save yourself. He hates it and loves it and he’s really fucked up. 

He swallows hard before pressing their foreheads together. “You won’t do that again,” he warns.

“Do what?”

Another perfunctory snap of his cock.

“Fuck–Joel.”

You’re shuddering in his arms, walls spasming around him. You’re one screaming nerve of sensation. You almost died. 

“You won’t do it.”

You say nothing. Instead, you nod as you tighten around him, heels digging into his lower back. He’s certain you know what he means. He just didn’t want to say it out loud.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

hiii I love your writing so much!!

could I request a reader x sleep token where they comfort her about being on her period?

hope you have a good day!! <3

Vessel

This man notices the smallest of shifts in your body language. So you best believe he’s going to notice how your breasts look and feel fuller, or how you grunt but not in a way that signs pleasure when he has his long needy fingers all over them. Your sleep also turns less calm. With early waves of cramps, you’re finding it hard to get comfortable.

So with that information waving red flags all over his mind, Vessel would press into you. Letting his body heat slowly seep into your back, while his palms press onto your stomach. The sigh that leaves your lips even in your sleep would be enough to make him crack a little smile, as he nuzzles closer to you.

You’re walking up next morning with a warm pouch on your stomach, the smell of sausage rolls and waffles filling the room. And your shirtless boyfriend smiling down at you as he holds a tray in his hands. “What are you doing?”, you frown slightly, pushing to sit up. Vessel only smiles at you, “Your period is due”, he states as if it’s the most self-explanatory thing.

“Did I…”, you quickly push your palm beneath the blanket to feel for potential damage. “I don’t think so but you’re having cramps”, Vessel is quick to reassure you as he sets the food down. “How do you…”, you ask slightly baffled before waving your hand at him, “Never mind, it’s too early for this”. Vessel chuckles softly, brushing his hand over your arm, “I just pay attention to you”, he shrugs. The innocent look on his face turned into a smirk, “Told you I would learn every single part of you”.

You shake your head at him, “You’re not real”. “I believe I am, sweetheart, but we can always test that theory”, Vessel wiggles his eyebrows at you, before plopping down next to you. “Tummy kisses?”, he asks so casually that it makes you want to scream internally. “No, you seriously are not real”, you clasp his face between your palms before leaning in to kiss him.

III

Your food patterns would be what would have him frowning. Firstly, because he’s the one getting groceries. He just loves it. Loves to zone out. Second of all, the bag would be filled with so much crap and pretty much no proper food. Abandoning your finds in the kitchen he would slowly make his way to you.

“Love”, his voice would find you in your shared bedroom. Only for you to hum in return. “I’m saying this with love but… where there no fresh produce in the grocery store?”, he leans against the doorframe watching you change. You don’t even turn to him as you wave him over your head.“There was but I was hungry and just… sidetracked?”, your voice dies down into a question. “And bought half the store of frozen shit and lots of snacks”, iii finishes for you, crossing his arms over his chest. “Rude”, you gasp, pulling his shirt over your head. Frowning as if he had seriously offended you.

“Come here”, he reaches out for you but you bat his hand away, “No”, you grunt, turning away from him. “Love”, he says sweetly, stepping closer to you. “No, no, go eat you raw paprika”, you sass back at him, only making him throw his head back with a laugh. “Stop being rude”, you whine, crossing your arms over your chest. “Come here you little demon”, taking hold of your hand, iii pulls you closer to his chest before wrapping his arms around you.

“Why don’t I make you a nice nibble board hmm?”, he hums, leaning in to kiss your forehead. But you still frown at him. “And then cuddle you all evening?”, he crocks his head to the side. “Hand on my stomach for an hour, no moving”, you narrow your eyes at him playfully. “Can I at least rub circles?”, he asks softly. “Yes”, nodding you shake his hand as if you two were indeed making a deal. “Good, pop into a shower, I’ll sort it all out and report to duty shortly”, with one kiss to your lips and a tap on your bum, iii walks out towards the kitchen.

II

Don’t get me wrong, he is an angel and would be super supportive. But tiny things do slip past him, especially if he’s tired. So when your mood wavers and he’s already on the edge arguments do appear. Like today over a stupid trash can. Could you have let it go? Sure. But your cramps had been killing you all day and while you don’t have an issue with cleaning around the house for most days, today just wasn’t cutting it for you.

“Why are you so grumpy, dammit”, he grunts flicking his phone onto the couch. Where you had been sitting, casually ignoring him for the past hour. “Talk”, he grunts, voice raising. But it’s enough for you to bite the inside of your cheek. Enough for you to close your eyes for him to see that this isn’t your usual bickering session, that you aren’t putting him into his place. No, there are tears in your eyes.

“Darling…”, he sighs, stepping closer to the sofa, “I'm sorry that I raised my voice”, his tattooed palms brush over your thighs as he kneels in front of you trying to catch your eyes. “You’re mad at me”, you crock out, tears slipping down your cheek. “Not true, I’m mad at myself for not controlling my emotions”, he reassures you, whipping away your tears. You both just stay there looking at each other for a while before you sigh, throwing your head back.

“I started my period, I didn’t mean to nag…”, you start but ii is quick to cut in, “You weren’t nagging”, his voice firm, leaving no room for you to argue, “Are you having cramps?” A part of you wants to shake your head but then where would lying get you? So you let yourself nod. “And you’ve been on your feet all day, we can’t have that”, ii shakes his head, bringing your palms to his lips. “It’s whatever”, you shrug. “Nope, treating you like a princess for the rest of the night”, he states. You open your mouth to argue back for him but he beats you to it, “No arguing back, it’s long overdue”. So you simply smile at him, muttering a quiet, “I love you”, one that he chases with a kiss. “Do you want donuts?”, he asks after pulling away, “I will just order you donuts”.

IV

He knows. Has a period tracking app. The boy is not playing games. So your hygiene boxes get regularly stocked up alongside your favorite snacks. You had argued with him that he doesn’t have to but he stood his ground. “You’re suffering every month so you could carry our baby eventually. I can buy you pads, that’s the smallest price I could pay”.

He’s sprawled on the sofa when you finally walk through the bedroom door, a blanket wrapped around you. “Morning, sleepy head”, Ivy smiles at you only to be met with a frown on your face. “What’s got my baby grumpy first thing in the morning?”, he mutters, making room for you to sit on his lap. “Started my period”, you grunt against his neck, melting into his embrace. “And my boyfriend decided to leave me to freeze in bed”, you fake cry, making Ivy chuckle. “What an asshole, are you looking for a new one?”, he asks brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Are you applying?”, you shoot back a question, making him shake his head. “For you always”, “Good, you’re accepted”, you nod, before nuzzling into him.

“How bad is it?”, Ivy pushes his hand beneath your shirt, letting his palm press against your tender lower stomach. “Heavenly now”, you nearly moan, pushing his palm further into your skin. “Did you take painkillers?”, he starts to move only for you to grip his wrist, “If you’ll move I swear you will need painkillers more”, you grunt, adding a quick, “sorry”, immediately.

“I would be out for blood too if I was in so much pain every month”, Ivy was quick to reassure you before adding “What can I do?”, “Just sit with me for a bit, till the meds kick in”, you pull away to meet his eyes. “Anything my baby needs”, he cups your face before bringing you closer to his chest.

[siriusremusblack]

Ehh..

Ok. Seriously- even if Snape wasn’t a spy for the order or even a death eater to begin with, and just a guy with unresolved traumatic issues in his childhood- why would he be expected to be nice to Harry?

I MEAN. Harry literally took one look at Snape (and Quirrell) in the great hall, felt his scar burn and immediately decided it was Snape’s fault. He didn’t consider that maybe it was another teacher or maybe a student next to him. He immediately thought that Severus Snape was the reason for his scar hurting. There was no evidence to really support that theory other than the burning of the scar.

Not only that- but this student (Harry) repeatedly got in trouble, sassed Sev/talked back, and when Harry did learn that it was really Quirrell that was the one trying to steal the stone and SEVERUS WAS LITERALLY HELPING HIM THE ENTIRE TIME FROM QUIRRELL HIMSELF- he still decided to have that unfair bias towards him.

PLUS, Harry acted similarly to that of James at times (from Sev’s perspective). Strutting around the school as one example- he was also treated similarly to James by the other staff. He’d get in trouble but he wouldn’t receive that bad of a punishment just detentions and he was even rewarded house points.. and not to mention McGonagall breaking the rule of first years not being allowed their own broom for Harry..

Harry also looked very similar to James (his father, for those that don’t know) which was likely a HUGE trigger since James not only Bullied Severus as a child but stalked, harassed, SA’D/S*xually harassed, and almost murdered him. Then there’s the fact that he also had his mother’s eyes, Lily Evans, who was a childhood friend of Sev. One of his only friends until he lost her, twice. Harry looked at Sev all the time with contempt and disdain. He basically hated the man from day one when he originally saw him in the great hall. He had lily’s eyes. Those eyes were the ones staring at Snape with hatred. Everyday. Until Harry finally realized how messed up that actually was in the end.

So yeah. Excuse me, but I don’t see any reason for Sev to even want to be nice to a kid like that. There isn’t any reason to be- especially when he’s dealing with 11-18 year olds on a daily basis, all day. They all have different maturity levels and being a teacher and teaching one grade of students is already hard enough. Imagine teaching multiple grades???? Oh and then there’s the fact he was risking his life for 14+ years (probably closer to 20+ honestly) with barely any actual recognition or appreciation. He was a spy for so long and he had no one. Everyone hated him and for what? Because he was strict? So were the other staff members.

Plus if we also take into account the other aspects of teaching instead of just the actual teaching- that is a lot more work as well. There’s planning assignments, watching over the students, grading assignments and much more- and being a professor you’re always learning the new information that comes in on the subject(s) you’re teaching. There’s also staff meetings. He also had order meetings and death eater meetings. There’s also stocking his potions store, doing detention shifts. We also see that he helps patrol school grounds after curfew so there’s that as well. This man has so many jobs and you expect him to be nice to some bratty 11 year old that immediately decided he was bad? Like what?

And this man is autistic coded (he was based off an autistic man so the likelihood he is autistic is pretty high and practically canon I’d say but that’s my own opinion and a topic for another time) OH and he is canonically extremely traumatized with zero support system and we all know prolonged childhood trauma causes multiple different kinds of disorders that will never go away (but can have symptoms lessened through therapy, which was not made available for Sev.) AND NOT TO MENTION A TEACHERS SALARY IS HORRID. This man does not get payed nearly enough to deal with Hogwarts students, order members, death eaters and the other Hogwarts staff.

GIVE SEV A BREAK ALREADY.

[momojedi]

Since you asked for prompts, how about Tech x reader, where he’s nervous that they don’t like his rambling but they reassure him that they like it/think it’s cute/like learning new things?

— RAMBLING pairing. tech x gn! reader

**

type. one shot note. thank you for your request! i hope you like it, i did rush it a little in the end because I wrote it pretty late at night, apologies for that <3 i also think i might have really butchered tech's speech patterns lmao word count. 868

star wars masterlist

79s was packed to the brim when you arrived. The bar was filled with lively talks and loud laughter, and despite the bloody war raging outside of Coruscant the atmosphere seemed almost ... peaceful. Hunter cleared his throat as you looked around. "I'm gonna go find us a table," he offered, turning to you, "you guys might as well go order already." You thanked him with a grateful smile before heading to the bar, swiftly followed by the four remaining troopers.

The Bad Batch had been put on shore leave for an entire week after another successful mission, and so to celebrate it you had offered to pay up for a few rounds of drinks. "Oh, you don't have to do that," Echo had tried to talk you out of it before quickly being pushed aside by Wrecker. "We won't stop ya if y'want to though!" You had simply laughed at his eagerness and Echo's exasperated sigh before hailing a speeder.

"... fascinating process known as "amphibac breathing," which allows them to extract oxygen from both air and water. This ability showca-" "For kriff's sake, Tech, no one cares!" Wrecker interrupted his brother's talk. The genius had been so invested in his scientific immersion of the Mon Calamari species that he'd barely even realised he'd started rambling to you. At the realisation his cheeks suddenly flushed a bright red and he immediately retreated to his datapad. "Ah," he mumbled, "apologies."

Although you know Wrecker didn't really mean it, you couldn't help but feel a bit upset at him for sassing Tech like that. Despite him and his ramblings usually being seen as irritating and smart-assy, you loved listening to him. You and Tech had been dancing around each other for a while now, working together most of the time, exchanging love-sick glances and flirtatious remarks that made your pulse quicken, yet never really acting further than that. It had been frustrating for the entire batch to say the most.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you sighed as you stood up. Echo nodded. "Alright, we'll take manage the drinks."

As soon as you'd left, Crosshair nudged Tech. "Good job." Tech glanced up from his datapad to meet his brother's mocking stare. He rose a brow. "I do not understand." Crosshair snickered. "You know, you're only gonna push 'em away if you keep that nerd talk up." Tech's mouth was suddenly all dry at the thought of that. Push you away? Did his talking really do that? He couldn't deny the feelings he'd been harbouring for you and imagining he'd drive you away ... he couldn't let that happen.

When you came back from the bathrooms, Hunter was waving you over from the table they'd claimed. You settled next to Tech, smiling brightly at him only to be found with a brief glimpse before he looked back at his beloved screen. This made your smile fade away and quickly be replaced with a frown. This was odd. He barely talked to you that night, not a comment nor a ramble and soon you started to get worried. What was up with him?

Later that night, after a few rounds of drinks and a fully wasted Wrecker, you all stood outside of the clone bar. Hunter was already calling up a speeder while Crosshair and Echo did their best to keep Wrecker from pulling any drunk stunts. This left you and Tech. He was still refusing to look or talk to you, constantly avoiding your eyes and escaping your attention. Determined to figure out what was wrong with him, you cleared your throat. "Tech, did I do something wrong?" Tech seemed perplexed by that question, eyes widening. "What?" "Well," you continued, looking at your feet, "Ever since I came back from the bathroom earlier, you've been avoiding me like some kind of virus ... did I upset you in any way?" The words sunk in and for a second, silence filled the air around you both. Tech hesitated before looking at you. Finally, you thought, a small sigh escaping your lip.

"No, you did not do anything wrong," he huffed, rubbing the back of his neck. Then his eyes took on a sad glimmer. "Does my rambling ... bother you?" Now it was your turn to look at him perplexedly. "What do you mean?" He sighed. "Crosshair mentioned earlier that my, as he put it, 'nerd talk', may potentially be tedious to you," Tech glanced at you, "could that apply?"

You stared at him for a minute before suddenly bursting into a fit of giggles. He frowned, a cute frown that made your heart swell. "Oh Tech," you finally gasped once you'd caught your breath again, "None of your 'nerd talk' bothers me. On the contrary," you gently took his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers, "I love listening to you - I love learning from you and I love, well, you!" You grinned, cheeks blushing a deep red. Tech looked at your hands before glancing back up at you, ears red and face flushed until finally a small grin pulled at his lips.

"Well," he spoke softly, "that is quite convenient then, because I appear to love you, too."

[deathmetalunicorn1]

I finally got to have my request! I waited 3 asks 😭😭

The RoR react to reader, who are known as the Queen of the Kings and have all 3; brawn, brain, and beauty. Reader have the personality of a ball of sunshine but also won't hestitate to put anyone in their places. Turns out she earned the titles Queen of the Kings because she puts a lot of monarch/leaders, especially male ones, in their place when they get cocky and also have a lot of them falling for her.

Qin Shi Huang, Buddha, Poseidon, Hades, Odin, and Thor, and romantic please!

-There were many queens throughout history, but none more notable than you, as you held many titles, with your most well-known one being Queen of the Kings.

-You were a sole ruler, inheriting the throne from your parents, and while many suitors tried to come for your hand, to become king by your side, including threatening you, you never married- as you ruled expertly on your own.

-Your kingdom never knew war, never knew famine or hardships under your rule, as you made it mandatory that all citizens, no matter the class, should have access to food, housing, jobs, and medical treatment.

-Your people loved you, as they all praised your wonderous rule, so much so that other people from other kingdoms moved to yours, as yours was so wealthy but also so happy.

-This made the kings nearby, whom you refused to marry, quite angry, seeing how well you were doing and how well liked you were.

-Many came, demanding their subjects back, but you argued back that they were free to choose where they lived. Not liking your sass, the four visiting kings tried to attack you, to put you into their place in front of their guards and the nobles from all five kingdoms.

-Armed only with your slipper, you quickly had all four kings on their knees, begging you for mercy. Seeing that you got all four of the kings, many who had been in wars before, begging you for mercy, scared of you and your slipper, they quickly lost their credibility.

-However, you weren’t cruel, giving them mercy and in turn, you offered your assistance, showing them how you ruled, so they could take it to their own kingdoms, so they would have a thriving kingdom as well.

-You weren’t to be underestimated, as you were a trained warrior yourself, but you always chose the peaceful route first, and you only resorted to violence if you had to, and those who opposed you quickly learned this.

-In Valhalla, you were still regarded as a queen and many respected you because you still ruled as you did on earth, with gentle kindness and threats of your slipper.

-You met many unique humans and gods in Valhalla, ones that you would gladly call friends, and you also found the only man that managed to capture your heart, (Love).

-He treated you like a queen, despite being a ruler himself, but to see him treating you as an equal, while those in your past wanted to undermine your power, it was refreshing, and you came to adore him.

-He learned of your past battles, including the one where you put those four kings in their place, something (Love) thought was hysterical, learning of these so-called powerful kings being put in their place, four on one, with you being the victor with your slipper.

-He thought it was just a story people told to get their children to behave, as a lot of people used slippers to keep their kids in line.

-That was, until a bold king, one who only ruled for a short while, less than a month, before being overthrown for being such a crappy leader, approached you while you were waiting for (Love), demanding you, not asking you, to go on a date with him.

-When you refused, he grabbed your arm, trying to threaten you. Those around you quickly took several steps back, afraid, getting out of the swinging zone.

-(Love) saw this boy grab you and he immediately came over, but he froze in his tracks, seeing you immediately slapping his hand off of you while removing a slipper and you bitch slapped him right across the face with it, sending him to the ground.

-Your glared darkly down at him, “Don’t grab when you don’t get your way, boy.” He was stammering, holding his cheek, begging you not to hit him again as you threatened to, to teach him a lesson.

-(Love) approached and the boy immediately ran off, terrified of you.

-Offered to go after him for you, which you brushed off, “No need- he learned his lesson.” As you said this you held onto his arm, putting your slipper back on before he bent, pecking your cheek in greeting before offering you an arm, “If he’s bold enough to try again, you may do as you wish.” You pretended not to see the grin on his face, looking excited before he whisked you away.

            -Buddha, Hades, and QSH

-Had his weapon at the ready, “He put his hands on you- he needs to learn a harsher lesson.” You grabbed onto his arm, steadying yourself while you put your shoe back on, “And you can teach him one if he tries to approach me again. It’s not the first time a young one approached me like that, and it won’t be the last.” A dark aura surrounded your lover as he glared, fully ready to make some head roll, hearing how you had been treated. It seems he needs to stay by your side more, to protect you, and to throw hands for you.

-Poseidon, Odin, and Thor

[cat-autism-wizard]

five times danny's english class learned that he was phantom (and one time he had to reveal it)

2- paulina & star

paulina and star became inseparable at the start of the highschool. they talked about everything and anything. ever since phantom started to protect amity park they both admired him. paulina even had a crush on him only for her to realize it was just a comphet crush. when phantom saved paulina she noticed something about him. they way he talked was familiar.

she brought this up with star on one of their everyday gossip session. star never really noticed anything but promised to try to catch it.

star loved languages and how people talked. everyone had their own individual way to speak, putting emphasis on certain words and taking different times to breathe. she loved hearing everyones differences. and she would always info dump to paulina. hearing star talk too much about the differences between everyone's way of talking paulina also started to notice it. and hearing a familiar way of speaking from phantom was a weird experience.

paulina told star about the familiarity but couldnt understand why and they laughed mostly. still it did piqued star's interest.

next time star was on the attack range was on the park rather than in the school. phantom was fighting a ghost with a motorcycle and his shadow. star gave in to her curiosity as she hid behind a tree and listened to the fight.

"wheres kitty? did she dump your sorry ass again?" phantom asked with too much sass.

"no, we're going really steady right now. i even thinking about getting her some roses after i kick your ass." the ghost said and shadow attacked phantom.

"dude get her her favorite flowers to show that you care. roses are a safe option but favorite flowers are so much personal." phantom grunted out as he defended himself from shadow. johnny looked at him confused but he looked like he was considering what he said.

"i have a sister remember? i pick up a thing or two." johnny agreed and attacked him right after shadow.

star knew she heard enough to understand the speech pattern.

in the evening she called paulina to tell her what she gathered and what she heard from phantom. they laughed about it and continued to talk about other things. they didnt really pay it too much mind. they just thought it was cool to have that familiar feeling with a hero.

next day at school the first class was english. star sighed as she entered the classroom about five minutes earlier than mr lancer. dont get her wrong, english was her favorite class but as a first class? it was like a lullaby that was sang for them to fall back to sleep.

she sat next to paulina with a smile. paulina looked energetic even in the morning. star envied paulina. she always had energy. maybe it was the cheerleading but star knew even though herself was also more energetic than most people she still felt dull next paulina.

"you seem happy" star stated.

"how can i not be? after our talk last night i went online and bought that eyeliner you told me about. i cant wait for it to be delivered." paulina squealed. they talked about everything and anything until mr. lancer came.

"good morning kids. i hope everyone get enough sleep because i dont want anyone to fall asleep. your exams are close and today we'll get through the most important-" mr. lancer was cut by the late student.

"im so sorry mr. lancer."

star didnt have to look who it was to know that speech pattern. it surprised star to hear phantom and not any squeals though.

"let me guess mr. fenton. overslept?"

wait a minute. what? she turned to the source of the sound.

what.

after an awkward chuckle danny walked to his desk and sat quietly.

WHAT.

"as i was saying before being interrupted. this lesson is important-" star stopped listening. she was only thinking about the speech patterns. she was sure of it. danny and phantom had the exact same pattern. but that was impossible right? she was wrong. she had to be.

after the bell rang star was still going through phantom's pattern in her mind. she had to be wrong. she probably heard fenton wrong, yeah that must be it. then she heard him again.

"im going insane. jazz wont leave me alone about my 'trauma through neglectful parents'. as if she is not my sister." danny vented to his friends, maybe too loud for his taste.

star's eyes widened. she didnt hear wrong. even the words were the same.

"paulina" she said shocked. paulina turned her attention to her.

"are you okay? you look like youve seen a ghost." paulina asked her best friend with concern.

"technically i may have." she mumbled close to a whisper. before paulina could pester her, star dragged paulina from the arm to the bathroom. star checked the bathroom booth before talking.

"star whats happening? im getting nervous."

"ive heard him. and im so sure, it sounds crazy but i am sure and honestly it makes so much sense now that im thinking." paulina looked at her with confusion. moved her hands like she was saying 'elaborate'.

"okay so you know how yesterday we talked about phantom. i heard him." paulina's eyes widened.

"what? who? is he in our class?"

"yes, its fenton." star exclaimed earning a dissapointed look.

"you sound like wes." paulina stated unimpressed.

"first of all, OUCH. second, do you really think i would lie to you about speech patterns? third, OUCH how dare you" star said slightly offended. paulina looked like she was considering something then her eyes widened again.

"holy shit."

"yeah!! so what do we do?" star asked for their next step.

"nothing." paulina sounded more sure than ever.

"what?"

"we tell no one. we do nothing. i dont trust GIW nor do i know his parents that well. i dont like fenton that much but as phantom he protected all of us more than those nosy ghost hunter wannabes." paulina explained earning a nod from star.

"still we're going to distract people more so he can go his ghost things right?"

"oh yeah sure. he may not be lucky all the time."

both girls decided protect phantom in their own ways. whenever there was an attack they would scream loud so the attention would be on them and not on danny. they would distract everyone whenever wes made sense a little.

1 2 3 4 5 +1

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Uh-Oh

Summary: Javi's Girl Dad skills get put to the ultimate test when your oldest daughter gets her period and you're not home to help her

Word Count: 2.9K

Pairing: Dad!Javi x Wife!reader (No use of y/n)

Warnings: Periods/getting a period for the first time, Javi being the ultimate Girl Dad, the Peña girls being the queens of sass, teamwork makes the dream work, just cute, sweet fluff 🥺😭

A/N: We all know that Girl Dad! Javi lives rent free in my brain, and as I was buying more tampons for myself today my brain went "Oh my god... could you imagine if Osita wasn't home when Lucy got her period and Javi, Elliot and Harper had to try and help her until Osita got home?" 😂😩 And of course, our elite girl dad would do anything he needed to in order to step up and make sure that his lil girl was okay 😭 This was also super fun to write because I feel like the girl's spunky personalities really shine through in this one 💀

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Mom? Mooommm?!” 

“Why do you need Mom?” Elliot responded to her older sister, Lucy, frantically calling out for you from behind the bathroom door. 

“I just- I- Will you please just go get Mom, okay?! I really need her.”  Lucy sighed, panic filling her voice with every passing second it took for her sister to answer her request. Normally Elliot wouldn’t have been so quick to comply without haggling to negotiate a favor on her end, but even the 11 year old could sense the pure terror in her older sister’s voice. 

“Fine, fine.” Elliot huffed, making her way to her other sister’s room down the hall, pushing open Harper’s door to rally her for support. “Harper. Go help me find Mom.” 

“Why?” Harper asked, giving her sister a confused look as she set down the stuffed animals she was playing with on her bed. 

“Because, Lucy sounds like she’s having a mental breakdown in the bathroom and she needs mom’s help.” 

“Do you think she pooped her pants?!” Harper looked at Elliot with a disgusted and confused grimace on her face, the girls pausing for a moment to shake their heads in horror at the potential current state of their sister. 

“She did sound really upset… I don’t know Harps, just go look for Mom, okay?!” 

The girls quickly split, Harper taking the rest of the rooms upstairs while Elliot sped down the stairs to see if you were anywhere on the first floor. 

“Mom?! Mommy are you down here?!” 

After many years of raising 3 girls under the same roof, the two of you had learned how to tell the difference in your girls’ tone to distinguish what they wanted you for- Tattling, excitement, annoyance, you and Javi had pretty much heard it all. But the way that Elliot was calling out for you immediately caught Javi’s attention. 

Someone was in big trouble. 

“What’s up, El?” Javi called out wearily from the living room, lowering the volume on the TV as his daughter came speeding in, fear flooding her face. 

“Where’s mom?!” Elliot demanded, looking around the room for any sight of you. Her worried tone quickly had Javi up and off the couch, scrunching his brow at Elliot in concern at what kind of trouble the girls had gotten themselves into that they were so frantically looking for you. 

“Mom’s at the store. What’s going on?” Javi asked again, trying to keep even keeled, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down at his daughter. 

“I don’t know, I swear! Lucy just kept calling for Mom from the bathroom. She sounded really freaked out, though. Harper and I think she shit her pants.” Elliot replied, holding up her hands in defense to rid herself of any potential blame, trying to keep from giggling at her last sentence. 

“Elliot Marie.” Javi groaned, rolling his eyes at her. “You said she’s in the bathroom?”  

Elliot nodded, giving a little shrug for her lack of clarity around her sister’s current circumstances. Letting out a little sigh, Javi reached over for the remote on the couch, turning off the TV before making his way up the stairs to find out what in the world was going on. 

Javi, Elliot and Harper now found themselves gathered around the outside of the bathroom door in confusion, Javi gently tapping on the door before speaking. “Hey Lucy, it’s me. What’s goin’ on, bud?” 

“Where’s Mom?!” Lucy replied, sounding like she was trying her best to hold back her sobs, muffled from behind the bathroom door. 

“She’s at the store right now, babe. What’s going on?” Javi asked again, looking down at Harper and Elliot who were looking back up at him, the 3 of them perplexed as to why Lucy was so distraught. 

“Did you poop your pants?!” Harper shouted, trying her best to ask seriously, although the two girls on the outside of the bathroom door couldn’t help but snicker to themselves. Javi groaned, rolling his eyes at Elliot and Harper, taking his hand to shoo them away, silently mouthing “Seriously?! Go play.” as the girls scampered away in a fit of giggles to Elliot’s room, leaving just Javi outside the door, waiting for a response. 

“... I really need Mom.” Lucy choked out through her tears as Javi leaned against the door, running his hand over the back of his neck in a mix of bewilderment and frustration until his realization hit him like a ton of bricks, his face going ghost white in terror. 

Lucy got her fucking period and you weren’t home. 

Javi could feel himself physically starting to sweat in panic trying to figure out what the hell to do. Even if he called you to come home, you probably still weren’t going to be back for another 45 minutes, and he wasn’t going to let his daughter sit in the bathroom horrified and alone until you returned. Letting out the deepest sigh he could muster, Javi knew his only option was to do this on his own, and hope he didn’t traumatize his oldest daughter, or die of embarrassment in the process. 

“Uh… Lucy, I’m really sorry but Mom’s not- shit- You… You’re gonna have to trust me to help you though this one, bud.” Javi grimaced, wincing at his own words, wondering to himself how he was going to get himself and his daughter through this. 

A stark silence hug in the air between them, barricaded by the bathroom door as Javi anxiously bounced his leg, waiting for Lucy to say something, anything, back to him. “How do you know what’s going on?” Lucy questioned hesitantly, probably still just as in shock as Javi was that the two of themselves were stuck in this situation together. 

“I uh- I’m just assuming because you wanted Mom- and uh, you’re- you’re in the bathroom and that you’re upset that you got your per-” 

“EW DAD?! Don’t say it!! That’s so weird!!” Lucy snapped from the other side of the door, Javi automatically holding up his hands in defense and taking a step back from the bathroom, taking a moment to carefully choose his next words before speaking again. 

“Sorry, sorry. Uh, kiddo, listen, I can call Mom but she’s not gonna be home for a while and I- I can’t just let you sit in there until she comes back. Can I- will you let me help you?” Javi asked, preemptively wincing, bracing himself for Lucy’s reply. 

“Yeah, I- I guess. Just please don’t be weird, Dad, I’m literally already gonna die of embarrassment and that’s without your help.” Lucy groaned, accepting defeat that she was going to have to let her Dad, of all people, help her through her unfortunate circumstances. Javi let out a sigh of relief that he at least wasn’t going to have to fight with Lucy or leave her stranded in the bathroom, but as he sat and thought about the fact that he was going to put a plan into action… Given the choice between this and chasing down Pablo Escobar or the Cali Cartel? Javi would have been on the first flight back to Colombia. 

“Okay, let me uh… I’ll um- give me one second okay?” 

“Not like I was planning on going anywhere else anytime soon.” Lucy grumbled, just loud enough for Javi to hear as he sped to Elliot’s room, where he found his other two daughters blissfully unaware of what was happening, building some sort of creation out of Legos. 

“Girls, you gotta go do something for me okay?” Javi pleaded, leaning in the doorframe of the bedroom, looking down at his daughters on the floor, pausing their Lego construction, their dad now capturing their attention. 

“Okay.” The girls said in unison, giving their dad a little shrug of compliance. 

“Can you uh-” Javi ran his hand over his red face, trying to find the least mortifying way to ask his daughters to help, “Can you guys go to Lucy’s room and get her a pair of underwear?” 

“EW GROSS DAD.” The girls shrieked, sticking out their tongues in disgust and Elliot pretending to vomit to add to the effect. 

“You guys… Can you just- please?” Javi practically begged, trying his best to keep calm and blow things even more out of proportion than they already felt like they were. Elliot and Harper sat quietly for a moment, the gears in their head visibly turning before Elliot spoke again. 

“...What’s in it for us?” Elliot asked, tilting her head and shrugging at her sister, too smart for her own good to ever pass up on an opportunity to bargain her way into a better deal. 

“Helping your sister.” Javi gruffed, impatient for his daughter’s negotiating antics as his other daughter sat helpless in the bathroom. Elliot and Harper both raised an eyebrow at their dad, sitting on the floor in a determined silence to get something in exchange for Javi’s proposal. “... 5 bucks for each of you, fair?” 

“5? Seems a little low for such a risky task.” 

“Fine, 10, now go so we can help your sister.” 

The girls gave each other a quiet high five before pushing up off the floor and racing past Javi out of the bedroom door towards their sister’s room, Harper’s voice carrying down the hallway. 

“I told you she pooped her pants!” 

Now having figured out one part of his predicament, Javi made his way back to the bathroom door to check on Lucy as he waited for Elliot and Harper to return. “Hey Lucy… You… You doin’ okay?” Javi asked, his hand brushing through the dark ends of his curls at the back of his neck. 

“Yeah… NEVER been better.” Lucy groaned, her voice oozing with sarcasm, a trait she had so lovingly inherited from you, and something Javi couldn’t even come close to being upset with her about, given her current situation. Before Javi could respond, Elliot and Harper were barreling down the hallway, Elliot holding out a hockey stick with a pair of underwear hooked at the end, Javi shaking his in disbelief. 

“Seriously, El?” Javi gestured at the hockey stick Elliot had passed off to Harper, now stretching it even further in front of her to distance herself from her sister’s underwear, using the other hand to plug her nose. 

“What?! Desperate times call for desperate measures, Dad. It was actually Harper’s idea.” The girls nodded proudly at their accomplishment, Harper freeing her hand from her nose to fist bump her sister at the execution of their plan. 

“Jesus Christ…” Javi muttered to himself under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his temples, “Okay, Lucy? I’m gonna open the door enough so that your sisters can drop a new pair of underwear in there for you, alright?” 

“DAD!” 

“SORRY!” Javi groaned, trying his best to restrain his frustration from how stressed he was, surrounded by all 3 of his daughters trying to manage the biggest crisis he had dealt with to date. Barely opening the door a crack, Javi pointed to Harper to sneak the hockey stick through the empty space, turning it over in hopes that the underwear had fallen to the floor for her sister to grab. 

“Harper that’s my new stick! Are you serious?!” Lucy shouted through the opening in the door, as if she needed another reason to be more enraged than she already was. Harper quickly jerked the stick back, slamming the door behind her, dropping it on the floor out of guilt before shouting back. 

“Sorry! I didn’t wanna touch your underwear, that’s gross dude.” 

“You got me dirty underwear, are you kidding Harper?!” 

“No they’re clean, but like… They’re underwear, it’s nasty. Your butt touches it.” 

“True that.” Elliot chimed in, leaning against the wall behind her dad and Harper, adamantly nodding in agreement at her younger sister’s reasoning. 

“This is literally the worst day in the history of the world.” Lucy groaned in dismay, Javi now recognizing the soft sobs of his daughter return, his heart breaking and his brain fried at how he was going to manage the rest of this shit show until you got home. Javi tried to shoo away Elliot and Harper once again, but not before Elliot could rub the tips of her fingers and thumb together,  silently asking for her promised $10 from her dad. Javi frowned, shaking his head no, Elliot getting the hint enough that now perhaps was not the best time to collect her payment. Tugging at her sister’s sleeve, Harper dragged Elliot back to her room, trying to distance herself from her angry sister as much as possible, once again, leaving Javi and the closed bathroom door with his daughter locked behind it. 

Javi leaned his forehead against the door, his face buried in his palms letting out a few deep inhales and exhales to maintain his composure, given the fact that he hadn’t even gotten to the part of helping Lucy she legitimately needed. 

“You okay, bud?” 

“No. What kind of question is that, Dad?” 

“Touché.” 

“Okay so… so- what- what do I do now?” Lucy asked, her voice quickly shifting from sass to scared, her words meek and timid as she waited for any sort of guidance about what to do. There was nothing that broke Javi’s heart more than seeing any of his girls anything but happy, and to hear the terror in Lucy’s voice made him absolutely crumble, especially when he definitely was not the ideal person to be aiding in this situation. 

“Okay, well, uh- in the cabinet under the sink, there should be a pink box and a purple box in the back corner of the second shelf. Can um- can you uh, check to see if you can find them?” 

A soft rustling came from behind the door as Lucy rummaged through the bathroom cabinet, the sound of several items falling to the floor in her scramble. “Okay, I- um, I found them. Which box do I use? Do I use both?” 

“Purple. Take one out of the purple box.” Javi quickly responded, letting out a panicked gulp, wanting to make sure he was not adding to his already detrimental embarrassment of having to explain tampons to his daughter. “Okay uh- Jesus- okay you, um- you gotta just uh, pull the little paper part off the back…” He paused, trying to give time for Lucy to follow his inadequate directions, taking her silence as his cue to continue, “and then it should be sticky. And then um, then you gotta, uh- take the sticky side and-” 

“Okay, yup, got it, please don’t say anymore.” Javi could practically feel Lucy wincing at his directions, leaving him anxiously drumming his fingers along his forearms as the toilet flushed and sink ran, the bathroom door slowly creaking open to reveal a very sheepish and embarrassed Lucy, eyes pinned to the ground to avoid any direct contact with her dad’s. 

“Hey kiddo,” Javi grimaced, trying his best to casually greet his daughter, trying his best to keep things from getting any less weird than they already were, “How you uh, how ya-” 

“Dad,” Lucy interrupted, holding up her hand to stop her dad, “I love you, and thank you, but I don’t wanna talk about this ever ever again, okay?” 

“Understood.” The two nodded in a silent agreement, eyes still peeled in separate directions as Lucy sped off to her room, promptly closing the door behind her with a loud slam, leaving Javi alone and flabbergasted, sinking down with his back against the wall trying to process the shit storm that had just blown through the Peña household. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent in an uncomfortable silence between Javi and the girls, his only peace offering being to bring back 3 bags worth of McDonald’s nuggets and fries, knowing that if Lucy was anything like you, the only thing that was going to bring her any sort of joy from her period pain was endless amounts of deep fried, crispy, salty potatoes, and that fast food (on top of their 10 dollars) was enough bribery to keep Elliot and Lucy from harassing their sister about the events of this morning. 

When you arrived home, you were surprised to be greeted by nothing but the sound of the TV, setting your bags down at the front door as you made your way to the living room where you found Javi and the girls sitting on the couch, McDonald’s bags placed in between the uncharacteristically hardy distance now dividing your husband and daughters. 

“Hey you guys, how’s it going?” You asked hesitantly, shooting Javi a concerned look at your family’s current set up. 

“It’s uh…” Javi paused, looking back over at his girls, all 3 of them burning menacing glares at their dad to keep him from spilling the beans on this morning’s circus, “It’s been an interesting day.” 

You cocked your head to the side, feeling even less reassured by the uncomfortable tension brewing in your living room, Javi and the girls now looking even more awkward and apprehensive than they had a few moments ago. You tried to give each of them the silent stare down to see if any of them would break, but whatever pact they had formed before your arrival was holding strong, no one cracking under your investigative pressure. 

“Okay… Well, if you guys wanna tell me about it then-” 

“NO.” Your daughters shouted in unison, frantically shaking their heads to stop your question. 

“Like I said…” Javi grumbled, “It’s been… a day.” 

Taglist

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[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

I’m surprised it took me this long to do one of these for these two but here we are! A list of head canons and random thoughts I’ve had of them, with maybe a couple on other characters sprinkled throughout.

- Surprisingly enough, Cloud’s the more emotionally intelligent one between him and Zack. His social awkwardness just gets in the way and he struggles to show it to anyone other than Zack

- Zack and Cloud both know how to cook. Cloud having grown up with just his mother learned to help her out and Zack’s mother refused to let her son go off to Midgar without at least basic knowledge in cooking

- Despite Zack being the chronically flirty one, Cloud gets hit on more when they go to clubs and bars

- Zack hogs all the blankets like his life depends on it the second the temperature drops more than 10 degrees

- Cloud sleeps in boxers and nothing else. Unless it’s winter then you’ll catch him in a shirt as well

- Zack fucking hates doing the dishes. He will quite literally bribe Cloud to do them when it’s his night cause of how much he hates them 😂

- Kids absolutely adore Cloud and the blond never understands why despite going all soft on them and playing along with their dumb games when asked

- Zack once tried to convince Cloud it was a fantastic idea to get a dog for their tiny ass apartment but got shut down cause he got so excited over the idea he broke their dining table

- Zack came out of the closet after Cloud only because Aerith dragged him out by the ear and shoved him onto the blond

- Aerith and Tifa had an argument (not really it was more playful and halfhearted) over who would get Cloud as a best man/bride of honour cause they both wanted to put him in a dress

- Cloud wore a suit to Aerith’s and Tifa’s wedding and Zack was but hurt that neither of them wanted to see him in a dress

- Zack drinks his coffee black and Cloud puts enough sugar and milk in it your teeth would itch at the sight

- Cloud consumes salt like Zack does spice and neither of them can handle the others preference for them. Zack’s face screws up like he swallowed sea water and Cloud starts sweating at the mere whiff of spice

- Zack was so thrown off guard about all those people in sector 5, 6 and 7 knowing Cloud that he thought it was some massive, elaborate joke that everyone was in on

- Tifa was in mad denial about her feelings for Aerith but the second Cloud tried to ease her into the idea she caved pretty quick (she couldn’t stand the idea of Mr. Discovered Narnia himself giving her that talk)

- In Shinra days Zack most definitely used Kunsel to sabotage one of Cloud’s dates, only to discover the blond had never even gone on the date cause he thought it was a joke from his squad mate

- The only time Cloud ever showed an ounce of curiosity at gossip was when Vince had casually kissed Cid on the cheek before leaving and the latter had done nothing more than smile fondly after him

- Zack definitely mourns not having his mentor at his and Cloud’s wedding

- Cloud and Zack hung out so much in Shinra days that not only did Cloud get a fan club of his own, but a sub fan club that shipped the two of them together was created (and people lost their fucking minds when they spotted the two of them years down the track holding hands out in public)

- Genesis would have taken a liking to Cloud purely because he wanted to have a little protege like Angeal and the blond had enough of a spine to sass back and glare when Genesis had threatened him

- If Sephiroth hadn’t lost his mind to Jenova and all he would have been all too ready to go against Shinra and help take them down. Not because of his own feelings on any of the matters but because his friends had turned and he cared about them more

- Zack definitely got mildly jealous when he found out Cloud had been an avid member of Sephiroth’s fan club but had absolutely preened for weeks on end when he found out that he’d also been in Zack’s fan club

- Aerith proposed to Tifa and enlisted the help of Cloud cause he knew Tifa better and Zack unfortunately couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. But Zack did help keep Tifa distracted while Aerith made her preparations

- Barret is the unwilling dad of the group, Cid and Vince are the tired uncles that don’t actually know how they got there in the first place and literally everyone else are the chaotic children that only pull it together for eco terrorism and organised crime

- When Cloud gets sick he basically hibernates for like a week and only eats and drinks just enough so he doesn’t die. Zack freaked the fuck out the first time it happened and took him to the hospital after the first 24 hours of near constant sleep

- Zack becomes a big, whiny, clingy, cuddly mess when he’s sick and always tries to insist he’s all better the second he feels anything more than on the brink of death. Cloud almost spiked his food with sleeping pills so he’d just lie down and finally go to sleep and allow himself to heal somewhat

[ominoose]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐒𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦 𝐇𝐂'𝐬

Character(s): Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Jake Lockley Summary: Not x reader, just random silly thoughts about the lads. Kinda summer themed. They're still in London. This came out more British than intended. Warnings: None

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭

Now that he's not constantly tired and getting two hours of sleep every fifth night if he's lucky, the Brit goes between quiet moments with a book on the couch to hyperactive spiels with no warning.

The newfound energy also takes his sass and mischief to the next level. If Marc or Jake (usually Marc, Jake's too scared) piss him off he will not drop it. For days Steven will slyly bring it up, make offhand remarks or fully kick up the argument again. It's never serious, he's still the one to step in if the other two are at arms, but Steven is no pacifist. "Y'know I just bought all these ingredients to make a lovely homecooked dinner with enough leftovers for Jake's taxi shifts and Marc's workouts... But-" "Steven please, we're starving, come on." "Since my cooking apparently tastes like a grannies garden!" "Por favor, I didn't even say it, Marc did-" "But you didn't disagree bruv!"

Takes Eurovision seriously. He made a point of not watching the BBC broadcast this year, although he's kept tabs on it through other websites. He's still not over last year. Jake tried to look into it and made a small comment about listening to the winner, commenting on Sweden's contestant being good. Steven went on a rant for a good twenty minutes about how it was rigged before Jake learned this was a lot more than a friendly song contest.

Whines when its hot out and forces Marc or Jake to front outside. Then forces them to buy a Mr Whippy for him to front and eat.

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫

Gets really into British football. It started with hearing chants and noises outside on match days, the comradery and stupid sing-songs from fans in matching team colours bringing him a sense of nostalgia. He's still a diehard cubs fan, but going to the local pub to watch the match, getting a healthy outlet to yell and bang a table amidst others oddly suited him. Steven's just glad he's socializing.

Secretly folds up Stevens more "colourful" shirts and hides them.

Loves British chocolate, hates British crisps. He see's a packet of pickled onion Monster Munch and physically cringes away.

While Steven fronted and browsed through a charity shop, Marc spotted an old ds, just like one he had as a kid. The Brit could physically feel him eye it up from the inside and bought it. Now Marcs post-workout routine includes playing Pokemon.

Marc gets visibly sad and sighs whenever they phone in pizza because its never like the ones back home in Chicago.

Loves a greggs sausage roll.

𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐲

Half the reason the other two found out about him was when the old lady that Steven scared off in the elevator to the point she avoided them like the plague suddenly smiled and offered them tea. Turns out Jake had been helping her carry the shopping back to the flat when they bumped into each other. Their odd tea and biscuit afternoons helped Jake keep tabs on the boys.

Naps in front of the telly, usually to some reality tv like Eastenders, snoring away. The moment Steven or Marc slowly try to control the arm holding the remote he jerks away, pulling it to his chest and telling them off because he's still "watching" it.

Knows Marc folds and hides Stevens shirts that he hates. He puts them at the top of the pile just before Steven fronts. Marc has no clue and it drives him nuts.

His favourite passengers to pick up are drunk women. They're always either very funny or tell the most downright devious gossip, never afraid to openly include him in it too.

Made a solemn vow to himself that if he ever drove past Rishi Sunak he'd egg him.

Since he prefers night-shifts, the cat distribution system seemed to give him an 90% chance of meeting kittens on the street. If he has a passenger when he spots the little critter he'll make a mental note to return after drop off, Jake Lockley will not pass a chance at checking up on and cradling a gatita. Marcs learnt to be somewhat present during these shifts to stop Jake sneaking home with several kittens in his coat.