#and her cryptid husband

[airandangels]

[llamagoddessofficial]

Remember these asks? Well I got inspiration and….

It’s a work in progress :)

DUUUUDE THIS IS SO GOOOOOOD

[emipon]

Throwback ThWednesday to Inktober 2019 which I kind of like now and want to re-attempt some of these

[loonarmuunar]

I feel like any theories about what happened to Lucy Gray kinda ruins the intentional mystery of her. But tbh. The idea of her just being some weird old lady in 12 is hilarious to me. Nobody believes her about anything she says.

“Y’know I was the 10th winner of the games” “okay miss Lucy”

[phobiaexists]

Oughhhh the Doe’s and their taming process (I know John’s the corrupted one, but come on, we all know Jane is the feral one in the relationship)

I wonder what sort of changes happened to Jane after she tampered with that code? Just questions that circle through my squirrel infested brain-

- I like the idea that Jane is separate from the whole Spectre’s game! (Honestly she’d be such a menace if she was a survivor)

- I wholeheartedly believe that John would be such a snuggle bug corruption be damned, that man would be a teddy bear and he’d love to be one

(Sorry I rambled a bit, these two just make me happy)

Well, for starters, whatever code she “corrupted” herself with has obscured her real face completely from everyone and especially The Spectre’s. None of the survivors (aside from the admins as before everything went downhill she and John used to be somewhat close with them, and especially Builderman) have ever seen her actual face, but even those who have can’t seem to recall it afterwards, and they’ve never even seen what color Jane’s eye is, all they see is a glowing outline of an eye looking back at them from a half-empty face and that’s only sometimes.

There’s also this from awhile ago:

Also yay! More John and 007n7 interactions and bonding, if you’re reading this, hi Doc.

AND YEAH. SHE PROBABLY WOULD BE A FUCKING MENACE. ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING SHE IS TECHNICALLY NOT SUPPOSED TO OWN THAT FUNCTIONING SHOTGUN. Though honestly, her not being officially registered as a killer or a survivor or anything aside from probably That Fucking Cryptid has been what’s keeping her able to bend around The Spectre’s rules, thanks in part to the code she messed with and the way she forced herself into the realm with said code. The best she can do is just force a way into the rounds to drop off the supplies, but she sometimes has a bit of a time limit before The Spectre finds out that The Thing got into a round again before promptly trying to kick her out. She’s probably been able to do a bit more and probably would’ve kept doing more if it weren’t for the fact that while The Spectre can’t do much about her it can very much do things about the other survivors and killers (though lately things have been going to shit for The Spectre and it all kinda started with the survivors “taming” John LMAO)

ALSO YES MY TAKE ON JOHN VERY MUCH IS (or well has been ever since being “tamed”)

I’ve always imagined he especially likes to try to curl up to Jane and rest his head against her stomach or chest when they’re laying down together, and specifically enjoying it when she hugs his head close to her. Guy may be 8’4” and she may be 5’8”, but he just wants to feel smaller around her. Smaller again, even— and even if slightly, since he used to be 5’7” before everything went to shit.

I also have always wanted to imagine John laying down on his stomach or something somewhere around The Lobby and some of the survivors who do vibe more with him chilling alongside him by sitting or laying down beside him whilst leaning back against the side of his body. Guy just lets it happen. Might even try to curl up a little around them, too.

[petite-sami]

What was that noise? 😟🐸 In a world where monsters and cryptids exist, it was only a matter of time before a young Briar came across one in the woods. It was such a terrifying moment, she was sure it was her imagination spurred on by all the tall tales and ghost stories told by the campfire.

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

[solxamber]

⋆˚✿˖ 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐈 ˖✿˚⋆

Main Masterlist ; Twst Masterlist I ; Twst Masterlist III

Heartslabyul

Ruined - Riddle x reader

In which he slowly realizes that he'll never be able to look at anyone else, he's been ruined for everyone else but you.

Trash Novel Chronicles: I Want a Refund - Trey x reader

When the universe dunks you into a dumpster fire of a novel as the villainess, survival is key. Except your husband, Trey Clover, turns out to be such a green flag that it gets a little harder to function.

Possessed - Ace x reader

Something’s going on with Ace. He's being nice which either means he's possessed or has done something extremely illegal. (Spoiler alert: It's neither)

Trash Novel Chronicles: Speedrunning Marriage Fraud - Ace x reader

You get isekai’d as the heroine in a romance novel, but instead of dreamy suitors, you’re stuck with a yandere cryptid, a billionaire with no impulse control, and a knight who thinks he's in a Shakespearean tragedy (and more).

Your solution? Commit marriage fraud with your best friend, Ace Trappola, and hope no one asks for a marriage certificate.

Trash Novel Chronicles: Gaslight, Gatekeep, Get Married - Deuce x reader

You get isekai’d into a garbage novel as the villain, so you take it as a sign that morality is optional now. So, you do what any reasonable person would: you set the world on fire (metaphorically… mostly) and somehow bag your knight, Deuce Spade in the process.

Savanaclaw

Still Into You - Leona x reader

You return to your old town, only to cross paths with Leona Kingscholar—the one who got away and the one you never stopped loving. Perhaps this time, fate is offering a second chance to make things right.

or: Exes to Lovers with Leona

Octavinelle

Trash Novel Chronicles: My Consort Calls Me Shrimpy - Floyd x reader

"You get isekaid into a novel where the perfect Empress got absolutely wrecked by the plot, and now you have to juggle a bland heroine, 15 consorts, a traitor and a delightfully unhinged eel who’s oddly good at solving all your problems."

Shot Through the Heart - Jade x reader

As a senior Cupid with a 99% matchmaking rate, your flawless record crumbles before your eyes when Jade Leech resists every arrow you shoot.

Trash Novel Chronicles: How to Ruin a Plot || Jade x reader

When you end up as the villainess in a story that's hellbent on making her suffer for no reason, you decide to make the main characters suffer just for catharsis. Good thing that your fiancé, Jade Leech seems to like chaos as much as you.

Signed, Sealed, Bonded - Jade x reader

Being an Esper is hard. Finding a Guide is harder. Somehow, the only one who can handle you is Jade Leech, who is both the best and worst thing that has ever happened to you.

Scarabia

Trash Novel Chronicles: Stealing the Plot for Drama - Jamil x reader

The book you've been looking forward to turns out to be a piece of crap, and you have the bad luck of getting pulled into it. So you decide to steal the main character's show, just for sport.

Mission: Emotionally Compromised - Jamil x reader

Jamil’s greatest failure as a spy? Falling head over heels for the person he was meant to destroy.

Trash Novel Chronicles: Falling for the Sun in a Cold Empire - Kalim x reader

You lose everything you've worked after getting transported to the novel that you read when you were a teenager after a freak accident. As the villainess.

It's time to rebuild yourself, one step at a time with a little help from Kalim Al-Asim, your betrothed.

Brighter than the Sun - Kalim x reader

Kalim shines like the sun, radiant and unwavering—yet each day, he burns a little closer to the edge, waiting for the moment he no longer has to be the light for everyone else.

Pomefiore

Just the Way You Are - Vil x reader {Request}

Vil shows you that you’re perfect as you are, helping you embrace your beauty inside and out.

Take Two - Vil x reader

You and Vil, once lovers, are forced to reunite through work, stirring up old heartbreak and undeniable tension. Slowly, you realize love never truly left, and some stories deserve a second chance.

How to Handle Your Diva - Vil x reader

You’re the unofficial Vil Schoenheit handler, a role you assumed when you started dating him. Whether it’s calming his temper or redirecting his wrath, you’ve become the only one capable of keeping poor midguided souls from biting the dust.

aka the 7 times you save someone from getting poisoned or worse.

Caught in the Crossfire- Vil x reader

You and Vil, partners in crime, find that the line between business and pleasure is thinner than you'd like to admit when you can’t outrun the feelings that come with sharing a life together

Or: Mafia Boss! Vil x Mafia Boss! Reader

Totally Normal Romance - Rook x reader

You've fallen hard for the hunter and you're dating! But when you tell your friends the good news, they immediately try staging interventions. Huh, I wonder why?

Supervillain's Guide to Romance - Rook x reader

You planned for a lifetime of rivalry, but instead, Rook Hunt just keeps breaking into your lair with snacks.

Where did it all go wrong?

(Villain! Reader x Hero! Rook)

Ignihyde

Fae Courtship 101: Romance Gone Wrong - Idia x reader

In your desperation to confess your feelings to Idia, you've recruited Malleus to help you. Except his help is mildly concerning at best and extremely alarming at worst.

Diasomnia

Starstruck - Malleus x reader

After debuting with a gothic, fantasy-inspired theme, you somehow managed to hit Malleus Draconia’s exact vibe. Now, the fae prince has single-handedly appointed himself your Number One Fan—and he's taking his job very, very seriously.

Lost in Translation - Malleus x reader

You have an idea: what better way to confess to Malleus than in his native language? Except you have severely overestimated your abilities.

Guide Rank: Overwhelmed - Malleus x reader

Being a high-ranked guide is tough—you’re basically a glorified babysitter for overpowered, emotionally constipated espers. But it gets harder when Malleus Draconia, the strongest esper in existence, asks you to guide him.

And somehow, despite it all, you’re pretty sure Malleus is the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

Or: Guideverse au!

Betraying the Gods in Three Easy Steps - Malleus x reader

Step 1: Befriend the Demon King.

Step 2: Fall in love.

Step 3: Quit your hero job.

1800-Curse-Control - Lilia x reader

You decide to open a hotline for curing curses with Lilia. It goes exactly how you imagined it would—maybe even a little better.

Familiar, Not So Familiar - Lilia x reader

You, a mage-in-training, attempt to summon a simple familiar—only to accidentally get yourself Lilia Vanrouge, a legendary fae with a penchant for chaos.

Others

Campus Scandal - Neige x reader

Neige: hopeless romantic. You: begrudging (absolutely willing) participant.

or: Opposites attract— you, the resident delinquent and Neige, the campus golden boy, fall for each other.

Multi Characters

Making Up After an Argument With: Vice Housewardens + Kalim

Vice Housewardens + Kalim trying a period simulator

Summer Nights with: Housewardens + Jamil

Romance Clichés with: Leona ; Azul ; Vil ; Kalim ; Idia ; Jamil ; Riddle

Desperate Confessions with: Leona, Riddle ; Jamil, Sebek

Holding Them and Not Letting Go with: Housewardens + Jamil ; Vice Housewardens + Rollo, Neige ; First Years

Pick Us! (In which you have to choose a club and everyone wants a piece of you)

And I Pick... (In which you choose the club)

Kiss Cam with: First Years

Cuteness Aggression with: Idia, Cater, Octatrio ; Malleus, Rook, Lilia, Jamil, Riddle, Leona

Vs Plushies: Overblot gang + Rollo

Zoo Tycoon: Housewardens (In which they turn into animals)

Drunken Confessions with: Octatrio + Idia

You Try to Sleep on the couch after an argument: Housewardens ; Vice-Housewardens + Ruggie ; First Years ; Cater, Floyd, Silver, Rollo

Choose Us! (In which you have to choose a dorm to join)

And I Choose... (In which you choose the dorm)

Labor of Love with: Housewardens

Jealousy, Jealousy with: Housewardens

Giving them chocolates on Valentine's Day

Receiving Gifts on White Day

Requests

Skully J. Graves x reader (feat. Sally)

Skully J. Graves x reader (Double Halloween!)

Jealous! Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Epel

Vil x Mermaid! Reader

Jamil x Intimidating! Reader

Azul, Malleus, Idia x Alien! Reader

First Year Trio vs Freshly Painted Bench

Vil x Reader who finds Neige creepy

White Rabbit! Reader Aftermath (All NRC + Staff + Rollo, Neige, Che'nya)

Housewardens x Reader with a blinding smile

Leona x Reader (Romantic, Reader considers him their king)

Malleus, Silver, Ace with a Sheep in Wolf's clothing

Leona with drunk! reader

Malleus x Leona’s Bodyguard! Reader

Silver x reader x RSA! Silver

Rook, Trey, Malleus, Vil x Witch! Reader

Jamil, Floyd, Azul, Idia with the Orange Peel Theory (Kinda)

Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil reacting to reader singing their Villain songs

Ace x reader x Malleus (Love Triangle)

Leona, Octatrio, Malleus, Riddle, Vil, Rook, Rollo x Kokomi! Jellyfish! Reader

Deuce x Snow White! reader

Housewardens x M! Cowboy! Reader

Ace, Deuce reacting to a glow up (hcs)

Overblot Gang + Trey Being your Comfort Person

They realise what you went through - All NRC + Rollo + Neige + Grim, Staff

They react to you breaking down - Ace, Deuce x reader

Housewardens with a Miku! Reader

Second Years, Riddle, Leona, Malleus, Vil, Lilia, Jack x Buff! Fem! Reader

Azul, Trey, Rook x Jealous! Reader

Octavinelle + Diasomnia x Airhead! Jellyfish! Reader

Housewardens x Tease! Reader

Memorizing the Queen's rules with Heartslabyul

Diasomnia x Blacksmith! Reader

Ficlets/Asks/Drabbles

Kissing Malleus’s forehead scale

[see-arcane]

[Dracula] is sure with his so great knowledge that she will come at his call; but he cut her off—take her, as he can do, out of his own power, that so she come not to him.

Dracula Oct 3: "You have aided in thwarting me; now you shall come to my call. When my brain says “Come!” to you, you shall cross land or sea to do my bidding; and to that end this!"

Dracula now: "... I said when my brain says “Come!”

I haven't “Come!” yet! You're not supposed to know where I've been going and certainly not to bring the mafia with you hey HEY"

Mina and her pack of Victorian knights and her husband the knife cryptid sprinting after him at top speed: "I believe in punctuality~"

[bantersnatch]

Hello, all! I think the time has come for us to talk about Very Important People's former cryptid Bianca, because, frankly, I think it's fun to have fan theories in play before things start getting canonized -- especially if those fan theories end up being completely wrong! Before I get too deep into tin hat theorizing, let's take a post to review the facts.

To begin, some basics about Bianca herself.

Bianca is host!Vic's stepdaughter via their marriage to Bianca's unnamed father.

The Host dislikes Bianca to the point that they are willing to sacrifice her to dark forces, they fantasize about throwing her into the ocean, and so forth (all to Bianca's face, mind you).

Bianca, in turn, is at minimum not receptive to spending time with the Host.

She works as a PA on the fictional VIP set.

She is well-liked on set.

She and the Host are the same age.

She, the Host, her father, and a certain extraterrestrial are all living together.

And, of course, we now know she is played by the wonderful Talia Tabin! Is this relevant to lore theories....? No, not really. But I'm very excited about the recent face reveal :}

To understand Bianca and her relationship with the Host, I think it's worth also talking about her father/the Host's husband. So far, the husband is a somewhat mysterious figure, but a picture of him is emerging.

Continued under the cut is what we know about him, alongside some more surface-level speculation about what this all means.

The Host describes their husband as "a lovely man".

The Host sleeps and brushes their teeth on set, flirts with guests, and seems overall deeply lonely and unfulfilled. These are not signs of a happy marriage.

The Host and their husband can afford a house and an attached guest house. Presumably in LA. The guy has money.*

He was invited to a Gwyneth Paltrow goop party at some point.

He took the last name Michaelis "in order to feel closer to [the Host]" when they got married.

He is reportedly "in his forties".**

*this could be attributed to a "Friends"-like setup where people are inexplicably able to afford real estate for the bit, but I think that's relatively unlikely; if you've watched enough interviews with Vic, they make a lot of jokes about the LA housing market and how well-off you have to be to own property. Who's to say, though, this is improv and sometimes the bit reigns supreme! **per the Bonus Content episode, which I personally consider as canonical as anything else.

Extrapolating these facts out, we can gather:

Bianca's father had her fairly young, assuming that in lore Bianca (and the Host) are in their late twenties to mid thirties. Let's do the math for the absolute oldest he could have become a father. If the Host's husband is currently 49 and Bianca is (significantly younger than her actor) only 27, her father would have still been college-aged when he had her. It's possible that the Host lied about their husband's age because they're embarrassed about the true age difference; it's also possible that the "forties" statement was something Vic made up on the spot without fully considering the math. In either case this is worth noting.

Bianca's father is someone with enough of a foothold in Hollywood to procure invitations to celebrity events. He's certainly more prominent in the industry than the Host, who is relegated to "plus one" status.

Building off the previous point, and combining it with the oddity of both his daughter and his spouse working on the same project, I think it's possible Bianca's father was involved in hiring decisions at the VIP studio -- and, with the Host reportedly paying to be there rather than the other way around, it's possible he also bankrolled parts of the production.

He's the kind of guy who would marry a person young enough to be his kid, and he's willing to go through with such a marriage even though it creates friction with his actual kid.

In short, Bianca is the daughter of a man with influence, but for whatever reason she's stuck working alongside -- and living with! -- a step-parent who openly daydreams about tossing her into the sea. There's something keeping the Host and Bianca stuck together despite their mutual dislike, whether that's purely their connection through Bianca's father or something more complicated.

More on that here.

[ap-kinda-lit]

Fun Dragon Ball headcanons

Goku and Vegeta are experienced with video games because of their sons. They even sometimes play them together. Goku's favorite is Sonic the Hedgehog and Vegeta's Mortal Kombat. Vegeta is usually the victor in their matches.

Bulma makes up to Vegeta by letting him give Bulla a middle name. He picks Eschalot of course. He chooses this name after a famous Saiyan princess. Princess Eschalot was known as the ideal Saiyan princess: strong, intelligent, brave, beautiful, and a fierce warrior. She refused to marry and decreed that she only would if the suitor beat her in combat. Not only did she defeat each and every one, she even killed them.

The gang sometimes go to Yamcha's baseball games. The kids even have his baseball cards.

Piccolo's favorite water is from watermelons. Dende's is coconut.

Trunks and Bulla are grossed out when they learn their mother and Uncle Yamcha used to date.

Goku sometimes stops by Tien's school to observe or participate in lessons.

Goku and Chichi planted their own apple tree in their backyard shortly after they married. It's still there all these years later.

Vegeta is very approving towards Mai as a match for Trunks, especially since finding out she was an assassin.

Goku likes to bring Chichi souvenirs from his adventures. They could be a stone from a foreign planet, a seashell from the ocean, or a flower from the mountains.

Vegeta is a secret Taylor Swift fan. He listens to her music when he's training or thinking by himself.

The children like Broly and love to play with him.

Goku can be a jealous husband in a subtle way. If he notices a man checking Chichi out or trying to flirt with her, he will hold her hand and refer to her as his wife or use endearing names towards her.

As far as the public is concerned, Vegeta's a cryptid. Everyone knows his name and recognize him as Bulma Briefs' husband, but that's about it. Nobody knows who exactly he is, where he came from, or how he and Bulma met and got together. It's even more difficult since journalists are too scared of him to approach him for an interview.

Since he can remember, Goku has had dreams where he is floating in a yellow void, surrounded by large shadows of people and muffled voices. Most of the time, he sees and hears a small and friendly woman, a large man with a deep voice, or a short child who likes to knock on glass. Goku doesn't realize until many years later that these are memories of his time in his incubator and the people he was seeing/hearing were his parents and young Raditz.

"Hungry like a Saiyan" or "eat like a Saiyan" are common metaphors among certain alien races.

Krillin stays in touch with his Buddhist roots. He visits temples, even his old temple where he was raised. He sometimes brings 18 and Marron with him.

While it's not shown, Launch does stay in touch with everyone.

Chichi speaks fluent Cantonese and Mandarin. She personally teaches Gohan and Goten from a young age. Goku has even picked up some terms here and there. When she’s angry enough, Chichi will curse in either language.

[apathetic-kiss]

The Rosier Family being social outcasts amongst the rest of the Sacred 28, not out of disgust or betrayal, but rather due to how the other families hold a morbid curiosity and slight fear towards the pure-bloods who seem to isolate themselves more than any other family.

For as long as anyone could remember, the Rosiers produced peculiar looking heirs; they all shared the same bone-white hair and gaping eye-bags, facial structure like fine china and long, bendy limbs. The children were always strange, seemingly intellectual and wise beyond their years, darkened pupils that seemed to stare into your soul if you made eye-contact for too long. They would chatter amongst themselves, rarely talking to the other pure-blood youths, preferring to whisper to each other in soft mumbles and squeaks. The Rosier children were never sent to Hogwarts, and rarely attended pure-blood banquets and balls. If they did, they trailed behind their parents and hid away in corners, blending in with the cryptids and ghosts which seemed to haunt every old wizarding mansion. When they aged, the Rosier offspring tended to become even more hermit-like; there was no presenting a daughter to society, no celebrations of a boy coming-of-age in the same way there was in other pure-blood families. They instead would disappear from pure-blood society for years at a time, their parents or aunts or siblings airily mentioning that they were abroad at the time.

In adult-hood, it was said the Rosiers only had one path of employment, and that was none. The blood-line was made up of inventors, of researches and explorers and users of dark magic, of witches and wizards who travelled the world and did unspeakable things in the name of discovery. Whispers existed amongst the Sacred 28 in regards to what the Rosiers had managed to uncover, invent, and twist their magic into, with rumours of anything from successful immortality, inter-species breeding, artificial life, and spells, hexes, and potions beyond one's wildest imagination. Whenever a Rosier died (as very few of them seemed to make it to old age), it was usually due to a tragic accident, a spell gone wrong or being mauled to death by a mysterious creature, a mix-up of potions or something along the lines of accidental, self-inflicted insanity. The private events such as funerals were barred from anyone outside the family line, preventing any further investigation into the births, lives, and deaths of the Rosiers.

The exception was if there ever was to be a union of two families when a wedding was held on the mysterious lawns of the Rosier mansion. Even then, it was kept relatively private, with only the immediate family of the non-Rosier spouse allowed to be in attendance, and the presence of a single writer to detail the events of the ceremony for the Sacred 28's records. However, weddings only ever seemed to happen once every forty years or so; there was only usually a single sibling married in a generation, the others dying mysteriously young or pledging themselves to their work for all eternity. It was as though the Rosiers only ever interacted and joined with another family for the sake of continuing the blood-line, and other than that would rather stay hidden away on the acres of property and endless wealth accumulated by the family over the generations.

The birth of twins Evan and Pandora Rosier was kept a secret from the rest of the Sacred 28 until their fifth birthday, when their mother brought them along to a morning tea hosted at a pure-blood mansion for the women to discuss the current political sphere of the wizarding world. The other women were shocked when Céline Rosier floo-ed into the mansion, her first public appearance in almost six years (they always invited her and her husband to events out of obligation and politeness, but the two very rarely showed to events. Secretly, the other family members were always slightly relieved when they didn't.). They were even more surprised at the addition of two white-haired children clinging to her robes, who she whispered to softly and sent outside to the court-yard to see the other children. Céline's sister, Druella Black, embraced her tightly, though the fury at her exclusion from her sister's life ever was apparent on her face; the family had cut her off both socially and financially after she chose to move to the Black family mansion instead of raising her children on the Rosier ancestral land. People had whispered about how this apparent betrayal to her roots and her aligning with the Black family instead would place a curse on her and her children, the rumours already whirling after her boys were born and were missing the signature pale hair; Druella had dyed her hair black the day after Sirius was born, a sign of rebellion against anyone who dared question her allegiance to the Blacks. Still, as they grew older, the lack of resemblance between the Rosier twins and the Black boys became more and more apparent regardless of the closeness in blood relativity. Nobody dared bring up the curse again, and Druella's maiden name and the history of her roots was never mentioned in Sacred 28 circles again.

Evan and Pandora grew up the same way generations of their ancestors had; isolated, surrounded by books, and most of all, alone. Their parents spent most of their days locked away in their own workshops, the job of child-rearing left to various members of staff and random family members who lived around the property. There were always wizarding scientists and researchers and medical professionals popping in and out of the mansion, some staying for tea and some staying for six months at a time, some who ignored the children and some who taught Evan everything he knew about potions. Though some would argue that this was no way for children to grow up, the twins would disagree; they had free-reign of the giant house and surrounding property, no bed time or limitations and complete access to their family library which had been accumulated over centuries to house over twenty-thousand books and manuscripts. When Pandora was eight, she decided she was going to read everything in the library before she died, even if it took her reading all day every day of her life (she gave this up not even twelve days into it, when had Evan begged her to put down the books and come camp down at the creek with him. She had obliged). They spent the first eleven years of their lives reading constantly and desperately, devouring novels and spell books and potion guides and studies on muggles and wizarding magazines and whatever they could get their hands on. They made potions and taught themselves non-verbal magic, experimenting with animals and transfiguration and manipulated all kinds of elements and metals and objects. They never learnt the distinction between light and dark magic, it all seemingly just a tool for them to learn how to further their skills. It was an incredible way to grow up according to them, and they wouldn't have changed it for the world. But before their shared eleventh birthday, everything had changed.

When the pair woke up and received their Hogwarts letters, they had simply tossed them to the ground and gone on with their day; Hogwarts was irrelevant to them, and only existed vaguely in their peripheral thoughts as something that other magical children were a part of. However, that night when they sat down for a very rare family meal, Céline had announced that the twins would be starting at the boarding school in September. That decision was final. After some push-back from her children, she had shut them down with a no-arguments look and the twins fell silent. They looked at each other with slight hesitation, not knowing what the hell to expect from this switch-up in the routine and life-style they had known all their life. That summer, Pandora had buried herself in books and journals written about Hogwarts and by Hogwarts students, attempting to learn and memorise everything she could about the school and its history. Evan on the other hand, was in complete denial; he shut down any mention of the school by his mother or sister, and refused to engage in Pandora's discussion about aspects of the curriculum or what their experiences at the school may be. He spent most of his time leading up to their departure for Hogwarts locked in the upper rooms of the mansion, experimenting on frogs and rats and mice as he perfected more spells and potions he was working on (though he did occasionally allow Pandora to join him and help work out the flaws in his potion-work, as long as she promised no mention of their upcoming time at the educational institute that will not be named).

The first problem that came along at Hogwarts was the expectation that they mingle with the other pure-blood families; they had only very rarely interacted with other children, and so the idea that they were supposed to befriend and talk to these other pure-bloods was an alien concept to them. Evan and Pandora had spent a little time with Regulus and Sirius as kids, but the brothers were already sitting with Sirius' Gryffindor friends in another carriage. However, this did mean the twins had an excuse to sit alone together and bury themselves in books (Pandora in her now-battered copy of Hogwarts; a History, and Evan in a definitely illegal book on the anatomy of various creatures and how to best butcher them for black-market sale).

The second problem that arose for the twins was the discovery at the sorting ceremony that they were to be in different houses. Evan was called up first, and the whispers had already begun about which house the first Rosier to ever attend Hogwarts would be in. The hat barely touched his head before shouting out Slytherin, and he had made a bee-line for where Regulus was seated with the other first years on the table. However when the hat was placed on Pandora's head, it had deliberated for a few seconds before calling out Ravenclaw. Evan had felt his face drop and the his look of horror matched Pandora's own; there was nothing wrong with Ravenclaw of course, but the awfulness of not being in the same house as his sister was something that hadn't even crossed his mind. They had spent their whole lives together, they were attached at the hip, they were practically the same person, right? Right? He watched Pandora drift over to her house table with a mournful look on her face, nodding with fake reassurance at her when their eyes locked. They would make this work.

The third problem Hogwarts presented the twins was the issue of their apparent disconnection from the rest of the wizarding world. Though this was something that had never bothered them before, and something they had in fact felt proud of in their childhood, it was now becoming a problem. Evan had never shared a room with anyone aside from Pandora, and his social skills... left room for improvement. His room-mates, Regulus and Barty, thought he was a total asshole who hated the both of them, when in reality he simply didn't understand the premise of politeness; he and Pandora had always been brutally honest to one another and to their parents, and this just seemed like the norm until he arrived at Hogwarts. Pandora's roommates on the other hand seemed to catch on to her apparent otherness immediately, and quickly shunned her from their group for being weird and creepy (it actually took Pandora a few weeks to catch onto the fact that they were being mean to her; she just figured the other girls were ignoring her out of nerves, the same way she was anxious every time she tried to start a conversation with them. She discovered this was not the case though after the fifth time she had tried to talk to one of them, and they had all left the room giggling and pointing at her). Neither of them made any real friends in their first year, and were utterly miserable.

Things perked up in their second year. Regulus had gotten into a fight with Sirius over summer and the two were no longer on speaking terms. Barty's presence had started to become truly annoying to Regulus, so Evan and Pandora became the only ones Regulus deemed appropriate company as the two were happy to sit in silence and read together. Pandora also managed to befriend an older Slytherin girl, Dorcas, as the two had striked up a conversation about Herbology in the library and become study partners. Dorcas was struggling in her third-year potions, a subject Pandora was well-versed in and knew all kinds of tips and tricks in. Pandora was barely passing Defence Against the Dark Arts as the theory was mind-numbingly boring to her, but luckily it was Dorcas' best subject. Evan and Regulus were quickly added to their study group due to their proficiency in other subjects, and when he could be convinced to shut up, Barty would sometimes lounge on a nearby table and pretend to do work. How he managed to have the highest grades of all of them, that was the true mystery.

Their little rag-tag group of five only grew closer over the years at Hogwarts, and stuck together through all the triumphs and traumas. They were there for each other when Dorcas was made quidditch captain, when Sirius ran away and Regulus was left alone, when Evan and Pandora's mother died in fifth year, when Regulus was made a prefect, when Dorcas' sister contracted a terminal illness, when Barty came back from Christmas break with red marks up and down his back. They were there for each other through it all, and Evan never knew the meaning of found family until their group of five found each other; to the Rosiers, family was blood and blood was family, end of story. He had never known there was an alternative, but he didn't care; his mother and father had never held him when he cried, but Dorcas had wrapped her arms around him after he broke down thinking of his mother being lowered into the ground.

And, after everything went down and everything went to shit, Regulus and Barty had held him in the shower as his shoulders shook, terror and fear and mourning wracking his body as he thought of Pandora. His beautiful sister, the most important person in his life, the other half of his soul had denounced him, had said she would kill him herself if she ever saw him again, had screamed at him with ferocity unseen ever before after seeing the tattoo that now decorated his forearm. She'd refused to listen to him and his pleas to join him, to follow him into the darkness of discovery, to become powerful together. After everything they had been through, they'd each chosen family in their own way; Evan, in following Regulus and Barty into the darkness Voldemort's growing allegiance, and Pandora, in remaining isolated from the affairs of the outer wizarding world, in separating herself from anyone who was not blood or who betrayed their blood, and in cutting off their apparent found family at the drop of a hat.

At the end of the day, it all came back to family, to the Rosiers, and to the endless, relentless isolation.

Evan died alone on a battle-field, his body left on a beach to be reclaimed by the elements as his soul departed for the afterlife. Pandora felt the second he left this plane of existence, a string inside of her cut and leaving her forever longing for the brother she had lost a long time ago. She had looked out her kitchen window after the day of his death, seeing a pair of two dark-haired men standing in the paddock across from the Rosier mansion, the empty space left for her twin apparent in the middle of the two men. They had all looked at one another for a moment, before her old friends had disapparated into the winds of the day. Pandora sighed quietly, a tear falling down her face as turned back towards the bubbling cauldron she was minding. She wiped her face quickly as she heard her husband walking up the stairs, and fixed her face with a soft smile.

Pandora died alone in the backyard of her childhood home, a flash of blue light being the last thing she saw before her body fell to the ground. Her last thought was not of her twin, but rather of her daughter he never got to meet, and the regret she felt at subjecting her to seeing her mother die like that. As she felt herself cross into the afterlife, it was as though a part of her soul let out a sigh of relief. Though she was leaving behind her family, she was to join Evan and her parents once again. Maybe that was for the best.

Xenophilius locked up the Rosier mansion for good after his wife was buried in the family graveyard, moving his young daughter away from the house which had always rubbed him the wrong way. The halls, the bedrooms, workshops, and library would stay empty for many years, preserved with spells and protective enchantments keeping the mansion pristine and untouched by the years gone by. If one were to visit now, it would look as though the Rosiers were still there, and perhaps had simply gone for a walk, and would return any minute. They say the ghosts of the Rosier bloodline still haunt the house, the chatter of laughter and the sound of scribbling and the turning of pages echoing through its empty, abandoned hallways.

Another family lost, forgotten to the magic of time passing.

[fanaticsnail]

Little Sparrow

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,298

(Image Link)

Summary: Mihawk has been up with your daughter, soothing her as she experiences her leap weeks. You spend some moments with your husband as he holds her in his arms.

Warnings: husband!mihawk x wife!reader, father!mihawk x mother!reader, sweet domesticity, brief mention of birth trauma.

Notes: small drabble brought on by the ask of @hungrhay. Got the cogs turning in my mind. I hope you enjoy this little drabble!

Tag list: @sordidmusings, @writingmysanity, @gingernut1314, @feral-artistry

Soft melodic hums cascaded down the empty halls of Castle Kuraigana. No whisper of a word, nor fall of a footstep, broke your trance as you sought out the source of the melody. You silenced the drop of your slipper against the cool floor, in an attempt to not shatter the world Mihawk was crafting for himself so early in the morn.

You knew where you’d find him. He was where he always was at this time of night. The kitchen was his place where he’d find the most solace, resting his body in a chair with his feet slotted beneath the dining table. The cryptid hours where your daughter would be at her peak of restlessness, the purple crying she’d been producing during her leap weeks held you hostage to her woes. The first time you had experienced this leap had you both struggling and clasping at straws for solutions. 

He began calling on your household Den-Den-Mushi, all those who you both knew had experience with young children: starting with Vice-Admiral Garp. He proceeded to bark his laughter and give you hope of: “this too shall pass,” and sending you a small crate of rum in sympathy. 

The next point of contact you had sense to call was Shanks and his Red-Hair crew. Shanks was absolutely no help to you with any advice, the jovial hooting and hollering in their drunken stupor in the background having all cohesive words falling on deaf ears. The receiver Den-Den-Mushi was stolen from Shank’s hand, and into the mouthpiece barked the burly voice of the first mate.

“Mihawk. The nights are long, but the years are short. You’ll get through this,” his gruff voice informed him, inhaling deeply from his cigarette. Upon his exhale, he offered a soft word of advice, “You’re a swordsman, one of the warlords of the seas. You have been through worse, she has not. Be kind to your wife. Let her have the night to rest.” Mihawk offered no further conversation, but greatly appreciated the compassion the First-Mate of his oldest rival offered him.

As you stood in the threshold of the doorway, you witnessed your husband cradling your daughter into his chest and continuing to sooth her. His gentle hums and slow rock of his body had her eyes heavy and falling closed. It was an old tune, the native rasp of his mother tongue falling from his lips as he whispered the words with his hum. 

“You are going to have the world fall on their knees, my Little Sparrow,” he whispered down into her hair. His lips caressed her scalp, watching as he deeply inhaled the scent of her bundles of silken hair. His deep frown softened, his honeyed eyes closing as he leant back into his chair. As he lulled his head against the frame of the chair, you approached him and placed a hand on his cheek. He opened his eyes a small crack, sighing as he felt your lips press against his forehead. 

“She started early, didn’t she?” You asked him, his response being a small hum in confirmation falling from his nose. You brushed your nose with his before turning to place the kettle on the stove and lighting the flame. 

“Did you rest well, my love?” his lazy drawl called over to you, voice only harboring affection and adoration with his question. You sighed with your smile, grasping the handles of two mugs and beginning the routine of readying your morning dose of caffeine. Guilt wracked your heart, your brows upturning and lips pouting. Before you could utter a response, Mihawk’s reprimand called out to you.

“Don’t you dare,” His words sliced your worries like the fell swift of his blade, Yoru, “It has been eight weeks since she’s been with us, and you are still recovering from the trauma of her birth. Don’t you dare, my love.” 

You sighed, your shoulders slouching at his comments. It was true, your body was still recovering from bringing life’s first breath to your daughter; your routines shifting and adjusting to her each subtle moment, lives changed forever. He was nothing but supportive of your recovery, doting on his girls with his attention equally. 

“Thank you,” you sighed, turning with both his and your coffees prepared, placing his on the table in front of him and elevating yours to your lips. Your daughter began to stir in his arms, her lip quivering as the groggy girl opened her eyes once more. 

He immediately recommenced his humming and rocking of her, staring down into her own honeyed eyes as his lullaby soothed her once more. 

“My love,” you slowly called out to him, placing your coffee down on the table beside his and walking behind the chair, “I read that these leap weeks only occur when children are learning a new skill.” His humming ceased as you both stared down into her eyes. 

“I wonder what our Little Sparrow is learning to bring on such cries of grief,” he muttered, looking down into her eyes in curiosity. You drew your own eyes down to meet your daughter’s, her eyes darting between each of you as she lay on her stomach on Mihawk’s chest.

It was then you saw it: the small twinkle of recognition behind her gaze. The upturn of the corners of her eyes and her cheeks balling in two perfect rotund spheres. 

Your daughter was smiling. Truly smiling. The first smile not induced by wind, nor a grimace as she experienced pain in her belly. She was smiling at you both. 

An audible sigh fell from your husband, his lips circling and forming a soft “O” shape as his eyes softened. Your eyes pricked at the corners, witnessing such pure and unbridled happiness from your daughter as your husband became hypnotized by her radiancy.

“All the cries in the twilight hours are worth it to see your smile, Little Sparrow,” he whispered, taking her small cheek within his palm and smoothing over her skin with his thumb. You circled your arms over his shoulders, pressing your lips against his whiskered cheek before staring at your daughter. 

“She is going to accomplish such wonderful things,” you uttered down into her, your voice up-pitched and playful, “Aren’t you, little Sparrow?” Her toothless grin widened, an inhaled coo squeaked from her lips as drool began to glisten at the corner of her lips.

Mihawk turned his head to gaze at you, his eyes half-lidded as he witnessed such sweetness occurring between his wife and daughter. He slowly raked his eyes over your smiling expression, your prior slumber written on your face as you gazed lovingly at your daughter in his arms. He wanted to hold this moment close, committing every subtle change to memory to draw on when your daughter picked up on her inconsolable cries tomorrow night. 

It was all worth it: every cry, every disruption to his sleep schedule, every coffee bringing him life-sustaining energy. It was worth each and every night he soothed her cries and hummed his melodies, just to have this moment with you. 

Breaking himself away from his enraptured hypnosis, he quickly arched his head forwards and pressed his lips against your cheek. You broke your attention away from your daughter and hastily turned your head to claim his lips against your own. The swell of his heart was tangibly felt in each moment he held your lips beneath his. 

His appreciation, his adoration, his love for you felt with the soft hum of his voice against your lips: his eyes closed, brow furrowed and lips smooth against your own. Breaking away, he smiled lazily at you and held his twinkling gaze against your own. Elevating his voice, he allowed himself to ponder with you.

“I wonder if she will have your laugh, or she will have mine.”

[skibidihan]

BOYFRIEND WHO ! ( myung jaehyun )

headcanons of boyfriend jaehyun. all my opinions, reblogs are greatly appreciated! requests are open! @skibidihan

content warning ! jaehyun x male, gn AND fem reader in this. very cutesy jaehyun, girl! dad jaehyun, pet! dad jaehyun, clingy jaehyun, romantic jaehyun. this is pretty long. wc. 612.

author’s note ! first bnd jaehyun work omg hii ,, jaehyun is so bf material i js had to write smth ! made for my dear, @wnyngz ! <3

boyfriend! jaehyun who always bakes you goodies whenever you don’t feel well. he would know you so well & know exactly what you would need that day.

boyfriend! jaehyun who would dress up your guys’ pets & himself ridiculous outfits & costumes just for the fun of it. ending up with a whole closet full or weird clothes and accessories.

boyfriend! jaehyun who would braid your hair before going out on a date. you would get frustrated with it not hoing the way you’re wanting it & jaehyun would step in saying “let me try.” you didn’t believe him at first but you gave him a chance—now he does your hair before every date.

boyfriend! jaehyun who would help you figure out how to do your make up, as he has gotten it done multiple times; he knows the basic way around. he would sit down with you for hours putting your makeup on and letting you test out styles on him, which you both have enjoyed.

boyfriend! jaehyun who would get shy at being called petnames.. “baby” and “sweetheart” get him the most, so you make sure to use them often. always hiding his blushing cheeks whenever you call him one.

boyfriend! jaehyun who’s confident. being in a mlm relationship, people get scared in public—not jaehyun. he holds your hand, openly calls you petnames and even introduces you as his boyfriend to his friends or anyone who asks.

boyfriend! jaehyun who games often, but never disregards you while he does so. if he sees you just watching; he’ll call you over to sit on his lap or tell his gamemates to give him a second if they’re on break before focusing on you, never leaving you lonely,

boyfriend! jaehyun who loves the thought of having a family. he desperately wants a daughter but would be excited for either a boy or a girl. he’s in love with the idea of having a mini you, a mini you to dress up in pretty dresses, to play barbies with or any toy mini you would like.

boyfriend! jaehyun who gets his wish and becomes a girl dad. he loves her like no one else, a true father’s love watches over his girl. teaches her all the things she needs to know, how to fight off mean kids and how to treat you nicely. showing her the world.

boyfriend! jaehyun who gets sleepy so often but refuses to fall asleep if you or his daughter isnt in his arms. he is so clingy and attached to his girls to the point where he wont let himself fall asleep until he sees you both in front of him—or util you both are asleep first.

boyfriend! jaehyun who gets whiny when you pay attention to others besides him. who is so needy for your attention he starts putting on weird clothes and making noise around the house until you are free.

boyfriend! jaehyun who fell in love with you the minute he laid eyes on you. who knew the minute he knew of your existence that you were the only one he was going to ever marry in his life.

boyfriend! jaehyun who kept that promise to himself and to you. who after years of dating, and falling even more in love with you, kneeled down on one knee and proposed.

husband! jaehyun who takes care of you for the rest of your lives, never letting you feel sad or disappointed in him, who makes you feel like you won the universe’s best husband, who never leaves your side in all your ups and downs, who is with you for everything, who stays by your side.

perm taglist ! @enhaas @starchasing-cryptid @academiq @lavendersloane @sol3chu if you ever wish to be added or removed, let me know.

© skibidihan. dont plagiarize, steal, or post on another platform without my permission.

[thesquirrelqueer]

my friend and I were talking about what if jeremy became a guidance counselor when he’s older so here are some random headcanons for that idea

“did you know mr. heere caused the squip incident of 2004?” “no way??? mr. heere wore his pants backwards last week there’s no way he had a squip” “maybe that’s why they don’t make them anymore.”

everyone knows “mr. heere” as the school’s cryptid. too damn tall. his wife is an actress, or is his HUSBAND a game designer??? he talks to himself sometimes. he’s got mountain dew varieties in the first aid kit in his office.

“one time mr. heere just grabbed open circuitry. I don’t know.” <- he’s immune to electricity post-squip

he has a group of ten children who follow him around like lost ducklings

he runs the performance art club (he’s got a hands-off club running approach. He runs it solely so that they’re able to meet every week, because the club can’t exist without a teacher or counselor)

christine stops by it sometimes and the kids are like IS THAT CHRISTINE CANIGULA??? THE FAMOUS ACTRESS??? WAIT SHES YOUR WIFE???

all the kids are swarming her for pictures and autographs and she’s like “jeremy your kids have great taste in musicals”

btw he is married to both christine and michael in this. he wears two rings, one for each of them.

“mr. heere, you sometimes say wife, and sometimes say husband, uh… um… is your partner non-binary?” “oh! sell, uh, you see, christine is, they’re my wife, but my husband is michael, he’s a different person, I’m uh—“ “mr. heere is a player!” “n-no, guys, I’m polyamorous.”

one day the kids mention an indie fighting co-op game and jeremy is like “oh wow that finally came out? my husband worked on it a few years ago.” and the kids are BEGGING him to bring his husband in. as if his husband is a toy for show-and-tell.

[letsgobarbs]

Hi! Welcome to my masterlist :D

If there is anything you like in my work please comment or reblog! I started writing a few months ago and the best part is someone enjoying what you made and then fangirling over it together. It also helps make new friends <3

The header and divider are from @saradika-graphics page.

Love, Marriage & Affairs

Pairing: Tim Rockford x F!Reader

Summary: Convinced your husband doesn’t want you, you turned to Jack for some help. The situation unravels and all secrets come to light.

Length: 3 Chapters (Complete)

His Priestess

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x F!Reader

Summary: Marcus Acacius finds his life spared at the behest of a Vestal Virgin who faces unimaginable consequences for challenging the Emperors. Accused of unchastity and sentenced to a live burial, Acacius follows his saviour through her last night in this world. He knew the Gods could be merciless, but to tempt him with love before ripping her away from him was an act of cruelty he had not imagined. 

Length: 4 Chapters (Completed)

His Young Wife

Summary: A spin-off series of His Priestess. An alternate life of Acacius and his anaticula, where she never became a Vestal and they married young.

Length: 7 Chapters (WIP)

Christmas With Jack And Marley

Pairing: Jack Daniels x F!OC

Summary: Agent Whiskey invites himself to Agent Gin’s family Christmas celebration as a cover for a very important mission. He only has a day, just until the Christmas Gala Dinner, to complete his mission. But will he be able to complete his mission? And evade discovery? Especially with Gin’s niece watching him too closely over Christmas Eve.

Length: 6 Chapters (Completed)

Homecoming

Pairing: Dave York x Queer Muslim!OC

Summary: Just like any other war, coming home was no easy feat. He had returned from his fight with McCall more broken, lost and alone than ever before. He'd lost his friends, his brothers. His family had moved on with their lives. With both his legal and not-so-legal jobs on hold, he finds purpose, direction and an anchor in Maryam. She is the bright spot in a world he has stopped caring about, and far too sweet and innocent for the likes of him. Dave is nothing if not a selfish man and he will find a way to bottle his personal ray of sunshine— if only he can convince her to take a chance on her friend’s ex-husband.

Length: 3 Chapters (Ongoing)

Note: This story is only available on my ao3 for now, I will move it to Tumblr once I have written more. The progress is a bit on the slow side but I will not be abandoning this work because it is something personal and brings me joy.

A FOOL'S TRIP

Pairing: Harry Castillo x F!Reader

Summary: Just as Harry Castillo is about to divorce his wife, who is obsessively in love with him, he begins to hear her thoughts. And she doesn't seem to be as enamoured with him as she had led him to believe.

Length: Prologue

A Groom On The Bride Train

Pairing: Hard of Hearing!Pero Tovar x Facially scarred, F!Reader

Summary: Short of employment opportunities in a cold winter, Pero decides to interview for the servant's post advertised on the tavern wall— a decision that lands him abducted and bundled into a wagon full of women, bound for a mysterious town where he is supposed to be married.

Length: 1/3 Chapters (Ongoing)

One-Shots:

Carpenter!Joel Miller x Reader x Lumberjack!Logan Howlett: Just smut. You forgot to place an order with the local lumberjack that your boss Joel has asked you to. Logan takes a little fee to expedite your order; Joel doesn't like that Logan got to you first.

The Plant Nanny: Fluffy and sweet. Javier Peña fails to keep up with his New Year’s Resolution and reminisces about life with his sweetheart after quitting the DEA. Javi P x GN!Reader.

Crying Cryptids and Canoodling Cupids: Javi G has a very bad day and accidentally makes his soulmate cry. Meet ugly. Javi Gutiérrez x Plus Size F!Reader.

Kermit (Pedro Pascal Close Encounter 50th) x AFAB!Reader: PWP, stinky kermit and pegging.

Moodboards:

Javier Peña x South Asian Reader

Joel Miller x Black, Muslim Reader

Retired!Javier Peña x Muslim Reader

Dieter Bravo x Muslim Reader

Marcus Pike x wheelchair user Reader

Clint (Freaky Tales) x Reader

Joel Miller x Reader

Ramadhan with Frankie and Family

My Lore Masterlist

Drabbles and Ideas:

Reed Richards Series of Smutty Ideas

Javi Gutierrez x Reader (Enemies to Lovers)

Tommy x Reader x Joel (smut)

Clint (Freaky Tales) x Camgirl!Reader (smut)

Cult Leader!Lucien de Leon x Reader (smut)

Retired!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (Arranged Marriage/Marriage of Convenience)

Dieter Bravo x Reader

Joel Miller x Wife!Reader (fluff)

Retired!Whiskey x Neighbour!Reader (Playful fluff)

Stalker!Frankie Morales x Reader

Jackson!Joel Miller x Reader