#are you allowed to find your own writing hilarious

[possibly-a-table-or-just-gay]

found this in my notes lmao

[artsninspo]

"JEALOUS TYPE" - Rio X Reader

Summary: The restaurant your date picked to take you out to is owned by Rio, and he’s there sitting at a table when you walk in. Just your luck. This ones a little steamy 🌶️.

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Black Reader

Word-Count: 1.6K

Full Masterlist

RIO MASTERLIST

Read the first two parts of this Rio miniseries:

“Baby-Girl”

“Whisky, neat”

Biting the inside of your lip you stifle a smile looking into your date's brown eyes. His animated expression is feeding off of yours as he tells an arguably hilarious story. Honestly, you wouldn’t know. Your eyes sparkle at his and by some strange miracle you seem to break into a laugh at the right moment. Although handsome, well put together, kind and funny, your date doesn’t have your undivided attention. Three tables away Rio sits with a scowl staring daggers into your side profile. He was having dinner with an older woman when you arrived with your date. Rio’s eyes met yours then looked down to see your hand in your dates and frowned. Since the woman left you’ve been subject to his displeased looks. He hates the sight of you with another man. Especially after resisting his advances. He’s furious really that your pretty ass didn't spend time getting ready to look good for him. Having had enough he calls over a waiter, it's his restaurant after all.

“You’re gorgeous” your date tells you, picking up your hand to kiss it from across the table. He’s a charmer for sure. His dimples and smile are to die for but he’s not the one making your heart race. 

“You’re not so bad yourself” you smile, taking a sip of your wine. The waiter comes over with a bottle in a bucket.

“Vintage Cabernet” the waiter says, putting the bucket on the table.

“We didn’t order that” your date says as the waiter slips you a table card.

Wine by the glass your man’s a cheapskate huh?

Is written in excellent penmanship. You thought he was signing the bill when he started writing. It takes everything in you not to smile as you fold the card. The waiter looks amused. The use of a Drake lyric in such a petty exchange is all the more amusing. Casting a look over to his table Rio sits seemingly unbothered. 

“On the house” the waiter says and your date shrugs allowing the waiter to top him off first. You don’t like that. A man that doesn’t put the woman he’s with first is  a slippery slope. Sitting back you taste the wine as the waiter pours yours. It’s excellent, you raise a glass to Rio and your date is too self absorbed to notice your eyes aren’t on him. After a few minutes you take your leave heading into the ladies room. Your heels click on the floor and you take out your compact to powder the shininess of your forehead and top up your gloss. That’s how Rio finds you. He strolls in wearing all black, which seems to be his signature.

“This is the ladies room” you say mirroring his nonchalance.

“Don’t make any smart comments. I have a dick and it works” he warns casually. It’s crass but you’re amused so you smile anyways fixing your gloss in the mirror.  The look he gives you tells you exactly where his head is. The physical attraction is a ten out of ten. “Get all dressed up for a guy who can’t even buy you the bottle but you won’t get in a car with me” Rio says, offended by your rejection. You turn to face him and he stands there unimpressed with his hands in his pocket.

“I didn’t take you for the jealous type” you tease.

“You can do better” he swallows, stepping forward.

“I appreciate you looking out for my well being. I’m sure you have more important things to do, places to be '' you dismiss, and he nods a little irritated with your flagrance. It's been awhile since Rio had to put in any effort to bag the woman that had his attention for the moment. You pass him to get to the door and he takes your hand. You should be terrified but you aren’t. The energy in the restroom is electric. Your chemistry is undeniable. You feel your heart racing as his eyes look down at your lips, he wets his bottom lip before casting a look back into your eyes. You want it just as much as he does. Your entire body hates the riskiness of your current predicament.

Reaching around you Rio locks the door Rio closing the remainder of  the distance between. Leaning in his lips connected to yours, he purses his lips tight against yours chastely before pressing his body against yours in a dominant gesture, pressing you between himself and the door. Pulling back he comes in for a second time, this time parting your lips, goading you into a slow, sloppy and seductive make out session. His kiss is teasing and claiming, you feel your temperature rise as you indulge in forbidden fruit. His hands slip under the hem of your dress gripping your thighs, snapping you out of it. Pushing him away your chest heaves. You want him so much but it’s not right. You're on a date, Stan warned you about him and he carries weapons.

“No no no no no” you snap to yourself as you hear a knock on the door.

“Y/N” your date calls from the other side and you feel your heart racing in your ears.

“I got a call I’ll be right out, go back to the table” you say through the closed door and Rio smiles. He reaches for the lock and your eyes tell him not to. He smiles absolutely thrilled at the prospect of blowing up your spot.

“Are you sure?!” Your date asks.

“Yep, just give me 5” you say and there’s a long pause.

“Ok” he says and you breathe finally. It’s your turn to scowl Rio comes in for another kiss but you push him away annoyed with him and yourself. Rio laughs to himself completely unbothered by your predicament.

All trouble. You think to yourself about Rio as you touch your make up again and Rio smiles looking at his phone. He puts a finger to his lip signalling you should hush and when you walk over you see your date still waiting for you outside the bathroom from the security feed on his phone.

“Give me your number or I walk out,” Rio says, playing dirty. You put your number in and he calls making your phone ring. He looks satisfied.

“Pick up, own the lie” he whispers, coaching you in your deception. His eyes are full of mischief and amusement. You just may be in love.

“I swear I care but I’m on a date sis, please call mom” you say loud enough for your date to hear. Rio unlocks the door letting you out. You smile at your date and he takes your hand.

“I didn’t notice your perfume smells slightly like cologne” he says and you hope he really has no inclination Rio was all over you. His cologne is more sweet than masculine and musky.

“Hmm” you raise a brow.

“Who was calling?” He asks.

“Sister” you lie and he nods suddenly more attentively. Your phone goes off again, you know it's Rio without checking it.

“Family emergency?”

“Sister stuff” you dismiss getting another message and you put your phone on silent feeling terrible. Sitting in front of your date you can still feel Rio’s kiss on your lips, his body against yours, his big hands on your thighs. The rest of the night is more of the same. RIo keeps texting the entire ride back to your house and you end up at square one as your date stands outside of your condo door with you. You dodge his kiss, letting him kiss your cheek. He takes it like a champ and you sigh frustrated. Unlocking your phone you see a flurry of messages of Rio talking shit about you being a bad girl, worse than him, a player. Warnings not to lay up with your ‘lame ass date’ and more. The final tells you to call once you get in.

Smiling, you set his name to Crazy Christopher in your phone. After a steamy shower you head into bed alone. You're far too excited to be sleepy in spite of the time. Your phone rings and Crazy Christopher flashes across the screen.

“Hello?” you pick up.

“Are you home safe?” he asks like he cares.

“Yes, Christopher”

“Yes, Christopher,” he mocks, making you smile.

The phone line goes silent for a few moments and your smile never fades, you haven't felt this giddy about a situation in years.

“You tired? I was hoping to come and wear you out” Rio says, making you laugh. Honestly you want the same thing.

“That isn't how you speak to a woman” you correct him.

“Nahh, you don’t want me to pretend I have manners. That’s not you” he says, reading you right.

“Some other night Rio” you cave, deciding you won't deny yourself a good time.

“Alright, well you tell me when” he responds in his usual tone. It’s an odd relief he doesn't promise forever’s or any other ridiculous niceties.

“Why don't we make it interesting, the next time I run into you - you can take me to your place” you shrug, lying in bed looking up at the ceiling.

“Bet” he agrees. “Goodnight baby-girl” he says.

“Night Rio” you respond.

“Christopher” he corrects. “We’re on a first name basis” he says and you laugh.

“Goodnight” you respond, hanging up in a final act of defiance.

You smile looking up at the ceiling heart racing at the risk. Sitting in his car Rio smiles hoping you stay true to your word before heading into the warehouse to check on his operations. He has plans for you.

Big plans.

_________

Let me know what you think of this update and Rio's bad behaviour 😉😘

Authors note: TYSM 💖 to everyone who's read, liked, commented or reblogged any of my work and more particularly this 'series'. It's been a fun palate cleanser. If you're a writer and need a sign to purge your drafts you think no one will enjoy here it is.

xoxo

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 30

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Somewhat graphic depictions of afterbirth; Breastfeeding; Newborn bodily functions; Scars and allusions to past child abuse.

A/N: Fuck me sideways, I have struggled to write since all this shit in my personal life. This chapter is pretty boring but I guess there are some fluffy aspects. And Thumper gets a name.

The tiny creature that had just been shrieking in Hershel’s grasp, was now rooting around angrily while you studied every perfect little inch of her. Her skin was pink beneath the drying, waxy mess of vernix caseosa—or whatever Hershel had called it—and blood. The old man had said if he had to guess, he would put her at about six pounds. Hilarious since she felt like she weighed thirty while you carried her. 

Her round little face scrunched up before she wailed again, disturbed from her meal-seeking venture by Carol leaning around Daryl to drape a blanket over her. When you looked up to smile at him, you found the archer studying his baby like he wasn’t quite certain about something. 

“What is it?” You asked, moving the blanket a little so he could see her better. 

“S’just—” He reached toward the bundle but withdrew. “Feels like—feels like she ain’t real.” You could see the tears brimming on his waterline, crystal droplets shining beneath the pale yellow illuminance of the van’s interior overhead light; how he would squint instead of blink in an attempt to keep them from falling. 

“Daryl, you—ow.” You placed your hand on your lower abdomen, finding it tight within a cramp even if the skin itself was slightly looser. 

“Ow?” Daryl appeared panicked but was desperately trying to keep himself together. He wasn’t doing a very good job. It was so odd to see him constantly grappling for control over his emotions when he had always—for the time you’d known him—been so careful not to allow too much to show. 

The veterinarian checked the cord to find it no longer pulsing. The contractions you were having now were mild cramps compared to before, Hershel advising you that you would need to give up your hold on Thumper to deliver the afterbirth. The archer watched as you handed off Thumper to Maggie. You wondered if he even realized why you hadn’t given him a chance to hold his daughter yet. Regardless, it was immediately apparent he hadn’t been listening in the slightest—

“Just an easy push, Y/N.”

“Wait! What?!” Daryl shouted. Meanwhile, you were clenching your fists and bearing down. It wasn’t the worst pain but considering you had just pushed a tiny human out of the same opening, you were a tad bit sore.

“Good, good. I can see it. One more push.” 

Daryl’s hand wrapped around one of your fists. You uncurled your fingers and let his slip between them. “See what?! The fuck she pushin’ again for?” The archer gave no time for anyone to answer that particular question before he was crawling and leaning above the space between your knees—just in time for the placenta to exit your body while you groaned through the discomfort. “What the flyin’ blue fuck s’that?!”

“It’s alright, son.” 

“It’s okay, Daryl.” Carol repeated. 

The archer had gone white again, swaying slightly and swallowing convulsively while scooting back toward you on his ass. You tugged gently on his hand before anyone else could interfere. “Hey, tough guy. Look at her.” God, you were exhausted but keeping your partner grounded was your priority. He had a baby to meet. Daryl’s eyes shifted to you and then behind you to the infant over which Maggie was currently gushing.

“She’s perfect.” The elder Greene daughter chuckled through her own tears. 

The hunter stared at Thumper, the color slowly returning to his skin. “Rick!” He belted out suddenly. “We clear?”

“All clear for now.” The former deputy called back, even though there was little more than five feet separating them.

“Good. Stop.” 

“Stop?” Rick glanced back over his shoulder, once and then again. “Shouldn’t we—”

“Stop the van.” This time Daryl barked the command, growing irritated. He gently extricated his hand from yours, moved toward the door, and wrapped his fingers around the handle. It was obvious he was waiting for the vehicle to come to a halt.

“Daryl, what the hell are you doing?” You queried while trying to divide your attention between him and Thumper being placed back against your skin. The baby began to squeak, working up to another bout of shrill cries before you shifted her, trying your hand at offering up a breast without any guidance. When her tiny mouth latched onto your nipple immediately, you felt a tugging sensation, but no pain like you had actually expected. 

“You’re a natural!” Carol exclaimed through her own tears and sniffles. 

Before you could offer comfort while the other woman was obviously distraught—likely reminiscing of the times just after the birth of Sophia—the van jolted to a stop and Daryl was opening the door, jumping out with his bag and crossbow, and closing it before you could say a word. 

“What’s happening?” You sat up just a little, your eyes wide. “Where’s he going? Rick?”

“Stay still. Relax.” Maggie cooed, dragging a finger tenderly down Thumper’s cheek. “Let her nurse. I’m sure Daryl’s got his reasons.” You nodded even though you weren’t truly satisfied with the answer. You were just simply too exhausted to think about it any further. Carol started handing Maggie blankets to roll up behind you. “We’re gonna getcha all cleaned up and as comfortable as we can until we can find somewhere safer, okay?”

“Just wrap this up until Daryl gets back.” Hershel spoke softly, placing a bloody blob of something onto a large piece of cloth before handing it to Carol. The sac was connected to Thumper by the slimy cord. 

“Do you think he’ll want to?” The other woman whispered. Sight and sound were starting to fizzle out. Your body was demanding rest, all reserves depleted. Thumper was suckling away, making the sweetest little snorting breaths between gulps. Maggie was wiping the sweat from your face and neck, sweeping the fabric back and forth over every inch of skin she could reach.

Hershel and Carol worked together to clean up the mess between your legs, the area swollen and sore and thank god you were so exhausted or that would have really hurt. When you opened your eyes again, you were covered with a blanket and Thumper was gone from your chest. 

“Thumps?!” You bolted upright, caught halfway by Hershel’s gentle hands on your shoulders. 

“She’s fine. You were quite out of it when she finished. Maggie tried to burp her but breastfed newborns don’t always need it. Now she’s there with Carol, getting cleaned up the best we can without warm water. The vernix caseosa can stay on her skin until she can have a good warm bath. It won’t do any harm. We just thought she could do without the other fluids.”

You nodded tiredly. “How long did I sleep?”

“Only about half an hour.” Carol answered, shuffling on her knees with the baby in her arms. “Rick grabbed the diapers from the truck and checked on everyone. She’s such a tiny thing, the newborn size almost swallows her.” She pulled the blanket away to place the baby against your skin and then covered her again with the small receiving blanket. Once Thumper settled, Carol pulled the thicker blanket over both of you. 

You felt your expression light up—casting shadows over your exhaustion—at the sight of that little face. God, she was tiny. The lack of blood revealed wisps of blonde hair, still molded flat in some places by the waxy covering. You could already see so much of Daryl in her that it—

“Where’s Daryl?”

As if summoned by his name on your lips, the van door opened to reveal the archer, clearly shivering. He tossed his bag and crossbow to the side and climbed in, rubbing his hands up and down his sleeved arms. He was clean, his hair wet while the strands appeared damn near frozen. His dirty clothing—vest and poncho included—was missing, likely in his pack. 

“Daryl Dixon, are you trying to end up with pneumonia again?!” Carol admonished. She shoved his bag out of the way quickly and tossed the last larger blanket around his shoulders. 

“C-c-couldn’a held ‘er like I w-w-was, right?” His teeth legitimately chattered, his gaze leaving Carol to look you over. “D-doin’ alright?”

You narrowed your eyes above the ghost of a smile. “Did you really go find a body of water to take a bath in the middle of winter?” 

“W-wouldn’a left ya but w-was d-d-dirty. Wanted t-to—wanna hold ‘er.” Once again, he was pale as milk but there was some color slowly seeping into his cheeks. Hershel wasn’t freaking out over his current state, so—contrary to the pressure threatening to choke you from the inside—you wouldn’t either. Daryl ran his tongue over colorless lips and ducked his head.  “If that’s alr-right?” 

Your mouth fell open, your brow furrowing while you blinked at him. Did he just— “Daryl, she’s your daughter. Of course you can hold her.” You were already moving an arm from beneath Thumper’s miniscule weight. When your hand found his, you pulled back with a hiss. “Maybe just get a little warmer first though, okay?” The archer nodded, but he still looked so uncertain. 

Hershel cleared his throat. He had remained still and silent throughout the exchange but then slowly crept down to sit on his knees at your hip. “In the meantime.” With a gesture toward Carol, he held out his hands. The cloth-clad placenta was placed onto his palms. It had apparently just been traveling around with Thumper wherever she roamed within the van. “Would you like to cut the cord, son?”

Still shivering but teeth no longer clicking together, Daryl’s expression molded into equal parts disgust and confusion. “The hell would I wanna do that?”

“It’s a tradition.” The old man explained. Carol was busy cleaning her knife with some rubbing alcohol. “It marks the start of life outside of the mother, when the father can begin to be physically involved in caring for the baby.”

The hunter brought his left thumb to his mouth, chewing on the side, granting a physical form to his inner anxiety. “Don’t it hurt ‘er?” You were curious as well, and you looked away from your partner to await the answer. 

“There are no nerves in the cord. She won’t feel a thing.”

Daryl drew back when Carol presented him with the knife. He looked to you. You shrugged a shoulder, careful not to jar Thumper. “It’s your decision.”

“Must be done. It doesn’t matter if it’s you or myself.” Hershel added. 

Lowering his hand from his teeth, Daryl eyed the knife. It was clear that he didn’t believe he wasn’t going to hurt his daughter. His thumb was replaced by his lower lip, jaw inching back and forth to gnaw at it earnestly. Without a word, he reached for the knife. Carol offered him a smile that he unsurprisingly didn’t return. 

“Where do—how does it—”

“I’ll help you.” The veterinarian reassured, balancing the organ on top of one hand while the other lifted the cord. “Right between the tape.” 

“Don’t that leave some’a it?” Daryl’s throat was visibly working as he swallowed. 

“That will dry up and fall off. I’ll show you both how to care for it until that happens.” 

The exhale was audible, undoubtedly something he didn’t intend but also didn’t take notice. Daryl’s hand was shaking, the blade carefully pressed to slice upward and away from the skin of your newborn. You held your breath, afraid any movement or sound would cause her to stir. If Daryl accidentally nicked her, there’d be no consoling him.

The cut was clean and quick, Thumper remaining sound asleep throughout. Your head tipped back against your pillow of blankets, relief flooding through you in a tingling wave that left you once again feeling wrung out. Half an hour was not enough. You wanted to sleep for days. 

Turning your head was a chore, but worth it. Daryl was ignoring everything that was happening below the two of you, his eyes dancing between you and his daughter. “I know.” You whispered. His gaze found yours. “She’s finally here.” He nodded, his lips slightly parted with words he couldn’t seem to articulate. “It’s a lot, Daryl. I know. It’s okay.” 

He was trembling, but you were certain it was no longer from the cold. His entire world had just changed. He was a father, and—judging by the look on his face, the turmoil in his pretty eyes—he was terrified. 

“Do you wanna hold her?” Your question was met with a sharp inhale, his spine straightening. 

“I—” 

You were already shifting the baby, shushing and cooing when she squeaked and stretched in protest. 

“You should bond with her too, Daryl.” Carol was sitting against the interior wall, looking her own personal sort of tired. “If you feel comfortable, um—” She turned her head to look away entirely, staring at the opposite wall. “You should let her lay against your skin.”

Bless him, he looked as though he might hyperventilate. “What if—she might—don’t wanna scare ‘er.” Daryl stared at Thumper, her little head moving back and forth as you offered her to him. You wouldn’t tell him the baby was too little to be scared. That would only leave him wondering if she’d be afraid of him later, when she was older. He was so convinced that his scars would make his daughter fear him. 

That anger you had felt before, the inferno of rage that had boiled beneath your ribs—it was back. Had they been still alive, you would strangle those people that had hurt him, scarred him so deeply. Beyond physical. But they were dead. And you were there. You would do your damnedest to show him a different perspective. That he was good and not a product of his father’s anger or his mother’s absence. That he was loved. 

“She isn’t afraid and she won’t be, not of you.” You vowed, pulling Thumper in against your own chest once more. With a hand then free, you raised the blanket and slid over with a grunt. The pain wasn’t horrible but you were definitely sore. “Get under here with me first.”

Maybe one day, he would be beyond the urge to hide that part of himself. Until then, however, you were more than content to help him find any measure of comfort you could offer. 

Daryl hesitated, giving you a quick once over. “Won’t hurtcha?” 

You smiled, small and tired but genuine. “No. Now get under here. Don’t make me drag you while holding a newborn. You know I can do it.” You challenged playfully. Maybe you could lighten the atmosphere. With a pfft, he took the blanket from your hand and shed the one around his shoulders, his eyes darting over to Hershel and Carol. They had knowingly turned their backs. You almost wished they would leave but having someone knowledgeable there was a comfort you weren’t ready to be without. You had no idea what you were doing. Once he was settled, you did your best to pull up the blanket until he took over. “Unbutton your shirt?”

“Dunno if—”

“She already loves you, Daryl. You were the one to calm her down when she was river dancing on my intestines. Just—try?” He sighed, his fingers slowly working open the buttons before stalling. “If you’re too uncomfortable with it, we’ll fix it, okay? I’ll take her and then you can put her on top of your shirt.”

The deep breath he took trembled but he continued until he could part his shirt enough for his chest to be visible. Even with only your eyes on him, he began to exhibit obvious anxiety. 

“It’s only me.” You whispered while maneuvering Thumper. He could actually hold her later, when there weren’t four of you cramped up in the back of an old van with stow-and-go seats. 

The man looked like he was two seconds from sliding out from beneath the blanket and bolting—until the moment the baby’s skin finally touched his own. His wide eyes drained of any trace of fear to make room for awe. 

“Holy fuck.” 

Watching him closely, those two words were meant to be part of the internal monologue he had going on inside his head. His calloused hands had never looked so gentle, laying across Thumper’s back. He immediately lifted one and placed the other there instead with the previous palm resting on her little diapered bottom.

“She s’posed to be this small?” His voice cracked. You turned onto your side, slowly and stiffly, while he silently let his gaze wander over to watch you move. Wiggling to find a comfortable position, you settled with your head on his shoulder and your fingertips brushing repeatedly over Thumper’s head.

“Hershel said she probably weighs around six pounds.” 

“S’that okay?” His thumb was swiping back and forth through the slightly darker blonde hair on the back of the baby’s head. 

“She’s perfect.” 

“Yeah.” He agreed, quietly. His head was tilted, angled to be able to see the little face of the human he helped create. “I, uh—thank you.” You lifted your head to stare him down, quiet yet questioning. “Y’know—for her.”

Your expression softened. Your hand lifted from Thumper to Daryl’s chin, guiding his head to turn. Stifling the grunt of discomfort that moving caused, you shimmied up just enough to press your lips to his. It was chaste but no less passionate. 

“None of that for at least six weeks. Minimum.” Hershel chided from the back of the van. 

Daryl huffed in annoyance, only slightly turning away to bark out “the hell’s ‘er mouth got to do with anythin’?” You laughed in spite of yourself, the action jarring and uncomfortable. 

Hershel even chuckled. “I mean no further, son. No intercourse. She needs to heal.” 

Damnit. You knew at that very moment, it would take you twelve weeks to coerce Daryl into actual sex. God, if your vagina wasn’t ruined after pushing out a whole human. Oh well, you’d be fine as long as he was still yours. You blinked, eyes glazed and thoughts wandering. He would still want you, right?

“Gotta make things weird, old man? Christ.”

Shaking your head, you pushed those worries aside for later. He was now warm and you had your personal space heater back. You molded yourself to his side and willed your body to relax. Daryl was there. Your little family was safe. Sleep laid its claim on you within moments. 

“Claire?” You suggested. Your hand alternated between rubbing and patting the back of the frustrated infant on your shoulder, coaxing out a burp that vibrated your collarbone. Don’t always need it, indeed. While Daryl sat across from you on the bed, rubbing the length of his left index finger across his lips, you adjusted Thumper to the opposite breast. Her little fists were flailing, her face scrunched up and red. The little squeaks and grunts were aplenty as she worked herself up to a squalling cry. “Ssh, here, Thumps.” The moment your nipple rubbed against her cheek, the baby rooted for it eagerly, latching on and suckling with gusto. 

“When she scrunches ‘er face like that, she looks like Merle.” Daryl snorted. His expression didn’t show it but his eyes held a distinct shimmer of sadness. 

“Wanna name her Merle? Merlene? Marleen?” You almost cackled at the look he pulled. “Okay, okay. I said Claire, grumpy gills.”

“Nah.” He sniffed and briefly glanced toward the window. You could hear the van and truck rolling in, hopefully with more supplies. “Makes me think’a that ear piercin’ place in all the malls.”

You thought about people that you had lost. Maybe you could honor them this way. “Andrea?” Daryl snorted. 

“She gonna shoot me when she gets older?” He took a deep breath and balanced his chin on his right palm, elbow pressed into his thigh. “Don’t really feel like she should be a Andrea.”

“Patricia?” You pressed on, stroking Thumper’s cheek with a fingertip. “We could call her Patty?”

“No.”

Your aunt maybe. “My aunt’s name was—actually, no. Nevermind.” This time, it was you that snorted. Daryl shook his head before he turned it back to the window. Thumper had released your nipple, even as her little mouth continued to try and suckle. “Can you burp her while I get all—” you gestured broadly toward your entire self. 

“Sure.” He slid off the mattress and leaned down to take his daughter, so carefully maneuvering her against the front of his shoulder. You kept your sights on him as he moved toward the window, offering the baby a little sunlight. 

You and Daryl slept in the van until the current safe house had been found. No one even woke the archer to help clear it. Probably because Thumps was still lying on his chest. Carol had been the one to wake the two of you, sending you into the bedroom while she heated as much water as she could for you to properly clean up and then to give the baby a warm bath.  Daryl held your daughter while you wiped her down. There was a fire burning in the living room and though you could feel the house slowly warming, neither of you wanted to take any risks. You removed the little knit hat from her head and took care in wiping away the remaining film over her skin. Patting her dry, you replaced the hat and moved on. Each area was bared, cleaned, and covered. You couldn’t help but smile when the archer looked away while you removed the diaper. You made it all the way to her feet before she woke up properly and started trying to suckle Daryl’s thumb.  “Barkin’ up the wrong tree, lil’ one. Gonna hafta talk to your mama if you’re hungry.”

And now here you were, tucking away your tits into a nursing bra while your partner rubbed the back of your perfect daughter by a sunlit window. Thumper was in a light blue sleeper onesie and wrapped in a pink blanket— littered with little birds—to make sure she stayed warm. 

You didn’t hear her burp but had no doubt that she did if he was taking her from his shoulder to the crook of his right arm. From your vantage point you couldn’t see much but you could tell Daryl was talking to her. 

While daddy and daughter were occupied, you laid back on the bed and stretched tired muscles. Your abdomen was still swollen but soft. It was your lady bits that were hot and sore. Forget taking a piss. You had nearly screeched when Daryl had accompanied you earlier, leaving Thumper with Carol. You were bleeding but thank god, Carol had warned you and handed you a couple of pads before you headed out the door. You hadn’t thought anything of it until you were standing over where you had urinated and it looked like a murder scene. 

“Jesus, it’s Nightmare on Elm St in my underwear.” You said as you rounded the tree. Daryl looked unamused.  “Ya gotta be so—graphic? Good lord.”

“Need to hunt soon.” Daryl spoke suddenly from the window. You sat back up with a wince just as he made his way back to you. 

“We have a lot of canned stuff. You don’t need to—”

“Doc said ya need protein to keep makin’ milk for her.” 

You didn’t want him to go anywhere. Logically, you knew it made sense. He was the only other hunter besides yourself. Canned veggies wouldn’t do much towards milk production and of course Daryl had asked about it already. Hershel had been pleased that Thumper was appearing satisfied with the colostrum you were producing, but she would need more even within just the next few days. 

“When?” You tracked him as he lowered to the edge of the mattress just in front of you. The baby’s little hand was curled around his middle finger and you weren’t sure he cared about anything else enough to divert his attention away from his newborn. “Daryl.” You chuckled. 

“Yeah?” He still wasn’t paying attention. 

“Purple because aliens don’t wear hats.” 

“Mhm.” Had he ever been this distracted? You called his name again amidst a laugh, each syllable bouncing. Finally, he looked up. Straight ahead first, as if forgetting where you were sitting. Then it was over to you. “You say somethin’?” 

“Welcome back.”

He mocked a laugh and then deadpanned. “Funny girl.”

Your smile remained steadfast. “When are you going out to hunt?” 

“Thought I’d leave in the mornin’. Y’know, stick ‘round to help ya tonight an’ make sure ya both’re all good ‘fore I go. Try to bring back all I can so that—” His mouth was still open, but the words stopped altogether. His brow drew inward. “Think this diaper’s toast.”

Oh god. 

The first diaper change.  

“Should I get Carol?” You asked in earnest. You had never changed a diaper before and Daryl had never indicated he had any experience either. Still, he shook his head. 

“Gotta learn sometime, right? Between the two’a us, how hard can it be?”

The answer: really fucking hard. 

“Daryl, you have to look!” 

“Don’t feel right to see ‘er—areas.”

“You’re her father and you’re trying to change her. It’s fine. You’re gonna get it all over your hands if you don’t look.”

“S’it s’posed to be that color?” 

“How the hell should I know? Can you hand me the wipes?” 

“What wipes?”

“You didn’t grab the wipes?”

“No?” 

“Was that a question?” 

“No?”

“Daryl.”

“Y/N.”

“Get the wipes.”

Twenty minutes later, Thumper was snoozing comfortably on the mattress, wrapped snugly in her blanket without a care in the world. You and Daryl, however, were staring at the small creature, appearing every bit as though you were trapped in the flashbacks of war. 

“I don’t think it’s supposed to take that long.” You finally commented. 

“Walker guts don’t even look like that.” Daryl’s voice was just as quiet and monotonous as your own. 

“It didn’t even smell. Shouldn’t it smell bad?”

“You’re complainin’?” 

“Touché.”

When Carol knocked, your heads moved in unison, two sets of wide, troubled eyes landing on the woman in the doorway. Her eyebrows shot upward, lowering slowly as she took in the scene: you and Daryl cross-legged on the mattress. Thumper just a few inches away. Wipes and a rolled up diaper on the floor below the foot of the bed. Her hand flew to her mouth, pressing against it to smother the chuckle that tried so hard to break free. 

“You two okay?” She finally asked, clearing her throat. 

“We look okay?” Daryl rasped. 

She struggled against laughter again. “You look like two first time parents discovering one of the joys of a newborn.” 

“We need help.” You were practically pleading, feeling horrible to ask it of the woman who had lost her only child. Daryl’s expression was just as desperate even if he would never grant it a voice. 

“Okay, let’s go over the basics.” Carol shook her head fondly and closed the door behind her. 

Several feedings and diaper changes later, Thumper was asleep between you and Daryl. Night had stolen the sun and a candle burned on the bedside table behind you. She was so far a quiet baby, only crying when she was hungry and would squeak and grunt when her diaper was soiled. 

“Expressing herself in grunts and other noncommittal sounds. She’s totally your kid.” You teased.  “Shuddup.”

Daryl’s hand was on the baby’s stomach, likely just as much for his benefit as hers. He was dozing, making a valiant effort to stay awake with little success. You were just as tired but you couldn’t seem to coerce your eyes away from your partner and daughter. Daryl had been so attentive and tender with you while you carried Thumper but seeing him physically interact with her was an entirely different experience. 

Once again, it was likely something he would internalize but he was absolutely in love. That little thing lying between the two of you had already stolen his whole heart. If you had any doubt of his desire and ability to be her dad,—which you didn’t—that would be long gone now. 

When you weren’t nursing her, she was with Daryl. He talked to her in hushed whispers like sharing secrets he’d never speak to another living soul. And she slept or stared at him while he stared right back. She had the bluest of eyes but Carol said they might not remain that way. 

You hoped they did. 

When she looked at you, you could feel her curiosity and adoration. You were her mother and she knew. She knew your voice, your touch. She knew Daryl. Carol said Thumper could only see in shapes and shades of gray, but you didn’t believe that. Not for a second. They way she would stare at Daryl, her little fingers squeezing the edge of her pink bird blanket. No, you didn’t believe that. 

“Think I gotta name for ‘er.” Daryl spoke suddenly, words rough off his tongue, laced with exhaustion. You smiled. 

“Oh yeah?” You wondered if he was even awake or aware of what he was saying. His eyelids were heavy, flickering open every few seconds. 

“Yeah. S’okay if ya don’t like it. Don’t really make no sense.”

You laughed within a breath, reaching to brush the hair off his forehead. When he didn’t speak for a moment, you found yourself too curious to let it go. “Are you gonna tell me?” 

He took a deep breath, eyes still closed, with an mhm during the exhale. His index finger was gently rubbing back and forth over Thumper’s little hand while she had it fisted into her blanket. 

You almost moved your hand to his shoulder to shake him awake, but refrained. He was—like you—exhausted, and within that state, he was emotionally vulnerable. You almost felt as if you were taking advantage of that, but there was a realization that you wanted him to name her. So, you would wait. Let him sleep or listen when he was ready to tell you. 

“Birdie.” He finally breathed. Without opening his eyes, he moved his finger to tap one of the birds on the blanket. “Birdie Jade.”

You felt the wet tickle of a tear running across the bridge of your nose and wiped it away before it could sting your other eye. Sniffling, you ran your fingers through the hair above Daryl’s ear. His eyes finally opened, clear and sharp, watching, waiting for your reaction. 

You pulled back your hand and laid it on top of his, over the baby’s blanket. 

“Hi, Birdie.”

[mysteryshoptls]

2024-2025 Player Birthday Login Message Lines

These are all the messages that you get from the boys when you log in on the birthday that you set in-game from 18 Mar 2024 to 17 Mar 2025! For those that want to hear them, you can find them in the Archive, under the tab その他　→　監督生バースデー④. (This will not be in your game archives until the birthday you set passes.)

You can find the 2021-2022 Birthday Login Message Lines here! You can find the 2022-2023 Birthday Login Message Lines here! You can find the 2023-2024 Birthday Login Message Lines here!

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle

Happy Birthday, [Yuu]. Thanks for always looking out for those two dorm students of mine. Actually, we're planning on hosting a reception this weekend at our dorm. I would like to invite you, as part of your birthday celebration. Heh. My apologies. Looks like that has caused you a little anxiety. No worries, I'll be beside you teaching you the proper manners the whole time.

Ace

Yo, [Yuu]. Happy Birthday― Mmkay, so let's get started on the birthday party. I'm just gonna pop on over to this one restaurant in town and nab some tasty-lookin' stuff! Just chill and wait here at Ramshackle... Hey, c'mon, I ain't tryin' to pull anything over on ya. Sometimes I just want to have a normal celebration too, y'know!

Deuce

[Yuu], Happy Birthday! Let me take you to go buy a prese... Eh? You're saying that I've already given you a present because I fixed the broken lights in Ramshackle the other day...? No way, you don't gotta hold back like that! I want to go all out for my pal's special day. That's what makes me happy.

Cater

[Yuu]-chan, Happy Birthday―☆ Did ya post on Magicam that it's your birthday? Oh, not yet? Then, let Cay-kun here with all his power and wisdom write a post for you! We'll attach a cool photo and some slammin' hashtags... Whaddya think? A perfect gift from me, or what?

Trey

Happy Birthday. So, about your present... I do have one. It's just... I was asking around for what to gift you and in the end, I couldn't really figure out what I should get... So in the end, after being at a loss, I ended up getting you this shirt. I look at it now and wonder what possessed me to pick this pattern... Yeah, I know, it's just laughable.

SAVANACLAW

Leona

Yeah, yeah. Your birthday's come 'round again, hooray. ...What're you doing, setting up a chessboard on the floor like that? You practiced just to win a game against me? Oho, so you're challenging me, then. Look at the pluck on this herbivore. So, what're you willing to bet, then? No way you're gettin' away with just a simple game after throwin' down the gauntlet at me like this.

Jack

So, it's your birthday today. Have you set up any new goals yet? What, you're going to surpass me in our classes? Heh, that's a hilarious joke. You really think you can beat me? But I'll take you on. If you get a better score on our next test, I'll get you some kind of present.

Ruggie

Happy Birthday―! 'N that means, I got you somethin' that's fittin' comin' from an upperclassman like me. Ta-da! A homemade fishing rod～ ...Ah, you totally just thought it's a cheap gift, didn'tcha! But this totally works! I know what it's like to go hungry too, y'know～ You're probably always goin' through things, so if you're ever in a pinch, make sure you use this!

OCTAVINELLE

Azul

A very Happy Birthday to you. Have you thought of a gift you'd like to get for yourself? Please, allow me to procure it for you... ...Oho, you have a keen eye to request something of that caliber. It may be considerably difficult to just anyone to acquire. HOW-EV-ER! If I were to handle it, that is a different situation altogether. I shall definitely make sure to retrieve it for you. Please wait expectantly.

Jade

Happy tidings for your birthday. I do hope this year will be another fruitful year for you. By the way, [Yuu]-san. Have you eaten yet? Oh, not yet, how wonderful. As a matter of fact, I thought I would treat you to something in my own little way. I only offer this with the best of intentions, of course. Fufu.

Floyd

Oh hey, Shrimpy-chan. It's your birthday today, huh. Mmkay, then I'll give you some snacks. I got these strange tastin' gummies, these wicked hard cookies, and some squishy jerky. Awesome, right? I got a ton, but all of them expire today, so. These are my presents to you, so you better eat them all without wastin' any, 'kay?

SCARABIA

Kalim

[Yuu], Happy Birthday! Here's your present, from me to you. Ahaha, did that surprise you? I tried making a pop up birthday card just for you. I also tried making a ton of paper flowers that we use during celebrations back in the Scalding Sands. Don'tcha think they came out real pretty?

Jamil

Happy Birthday, [Yuu]. It isn't much, but here's your present. Ramshackle is a fairly old building. I'm sure there are bugs that will find their way in and try to settle down here. However, if you use this, you can rid yourself of all of them in an instant. I can vouch for its effectiveness. Use it as soon as you can.

POMEFIORE

Vil

Happy Birthday, [Yuu]. ...You wish for me to come to your party here, at Ramshackle? And to top it all off, you've prepared a healthy menu just for me... Heh, how considerate of you. Very well. I suppose I can make an appearance out of respect for your enthusiasm. I do hope you're honored that I'll be there to celebrate with you.

Epel

Happy Birthday! I put in a lot of thought picking out a present for you. Here ya go, fingerless gloves! Nice design, right? Makes using your phone a lot easier, too. It'll make you look super cool, and the more you use it, the more comfy it'll feel. I hope you use it tons!

Rook

I've been waiting, Trickster. Waiting, that is, to celebrate your birthday with you. A spectacular day requires a spectacular memory. That is why I've come up with a wonderful plan of my own. First, we watch two back-to-back theater performances, then attend a poetry reading, and finally, watch a movie in the evening. There will be no time to rest. Come, we must quickly fly towards the theater!

IGNIHYDE

Idia

Kk, time to pretend we all get along and celebrate a birthday again... Eep!? D-Did you hear that just now...? Uh, so... Happy B-day, I guess... Soz, I don't have a present for you. Didn't even know it was your birthday... What, you're seriously just happy hearing me wish you a happy b-day? [siiigh] Nah, I'll order something small online and have it shipped to Ramshackle sometime later.

Ortho

Happy Birthday! Here's your present. Go ahead and open it! Hehe, you see what I did? I used a laser to engrave a birthday message on a glass tumbler for you. It was a little difficult fine tuning the power adjustment for the more detailed parts, but it came out pretty good, don't you think? I really hope you like it!

DIASOMNIA

Malleus

Child of Man, I see today is your birthday. ...Hm? What's the matter? You look a tad glum. Ah, I see, you are struggling to carry all your presents. Well, allow me to deliver them to Ramshackle with magic in your stead. No need to protest, this is an effortless task for someone like me. You should enjoy your special day to the utmost.

Silver

Happy Birthday. You're curious about this braided cord? It is your present. Lilia-senpai explained it to me thusly... If a string wrapped around your wrist or ankle snaps off on its own, then your wish will be granted. I strung this cord together in hopes that you may have your wishes come true. It may be a tad ill-shaped, but if it pleases you, it is yours.

Sebek

As I recall, today is your birthday... Hm? You want me to come to your birthday party? What poor semblance of a joke. I don't have the spare time to waltz into some human gathering like... WHAT!? MY LIEGE HIMSELF WILL ALSO BE THERE!? THEN SAY THAT FIRST! For goodness' sake, humans like you are just... so thoroughly thoughtless. Hurry and provide me the location and commencement time!

Lilia

Ooh, nice. So today's your birthday. Just look at how big you're getting. ...Khee hee hee. Don't look so downtrodden. It's just me pretending to be a doting gramps. The other guys in my dorm don't ever let me joke with them like that. And so, I have a present for you. Here, a CD of my performances, specially made! Take this and enjoy my raging screamo music with your whole heart and body.

OTHERS

Crowley and Rollo do not have new lines. Theirs are repeated from last year's.

Grim

Today's your birthday, huh. Happy Birthday to you! ...Huh? Do I got a gift for ya? What're ya even saying? Shouldn't ya be happy enough that you're my number one favorite henchie? Fiiine. Guess I can use my paws to pad you a massage sometime. Wouldn't want to hafta sit in a hard and uncomfy lap, after all!

Crowley

Ta-daaa! What do you suppose this could be? That’s correct, it’s an exchange coupon for use at the Mystery Shop! You have been a consistent helping hand, so��� This is a special gift for you. Happy Birthday. Incidentally, that is only worth 500 madol (5 Thaumarks). It cannot be exchanged for something pricier than that. Please don’t hold it against me.

Crewel

It seemed rather rowdy in here, but now I see it was just you, pup. Are you excited simply because its your birthday? I see, well, in that case, I have a special present just for you. As for what it is... It is a special alchemy homework assignment. You should be happy; you'll be able to improve your skills even further with this, don't you think? Haha, Happy Birthday.

Rollo

Whatever is the matter, [Yuu]-kun? There is a strange glimmer in your eyes… ...Ah, I see. Today is your birthday. A present? Hmph. I hardly think that it should be something you request of others… But no matter. Indeed, birthdays should be treasured. However, what would be an acceptable gift…? I am afraid I’m rather unaccustomed to this. I would hope I do not disappoint you with a poor gift choice.

Fellow

Oh, my, hello there, my learned scholar! I've been searching, and finally, I've found you! I was fervently hoping to wish you well for your birthday. Here, your present. ...As fellows lacking in magical abilities, we should get along together, don'tcha think? Happy Birthday! Fwahaha!

Requested by Anonymous.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Sylus: SFW Headcanons

Eyooooo got this request in this morning. Been needing to get around to writing headcanons for Sylus, so decided to use my morning writing warm-up to do this!

❧ Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. ❧ Warnings: None ❧ Pairings: Sylus/Reader

Blog Information | Masterlist

Sylus

General Headcanons

When this man originally ended up in the N109 Zone, he had no clue what the hell other people wore. He saw a another person, and then a dude on a billboard, and kinda went with the biker aesthetic. That doesn’t mean he didn’t try other aesthetics though. Go into his closet and you’ll probably find all styles of clothes that he just never wears. Most of them are in black, white, red, and some shades of brown, but there’s a handful of more colorful ones in there.

So the nickname in Sylus’ phone for you, kitten? Well that gets changed up pretty often. He changes it depending on what you did that previous week. You happen to trip into a bush? Shrubby. You stole all the carrots off his plate at dinner? Bunny. You decided to get into his liquor cabinet? You’re now called Tipsy. It really depends, he just likes to change it up…also helps if you call him during a business meeting it won’t just show the same name or person calling.

He keeps a list of everything the twins do in a week. Literally every single shenanigan they pulls, he has on record. He is willing to bring it up to them just to watch their reactions. You probably find it hilarious when you found the logs of every single prank or mistake they’ve ever made. None of the things there are normal. Like the time they meant to detonate a bomb but grabbed the wrong remote and ended up blowing up half of one of the armories. Just cute things the twins do.

Speaking of armories, he does happen to have a special place in his armory for your extra plush animals you two win. If you ever thought for a moment this man was joking at the claw machine about that, then you’re a fool. This man literally has an entire section for plushies, behind nice bullet proof glass. They even have labels on them like what their name is, the type, the date received, and who got it from the machine. The moment he realizes that most of the plushies were caught by you, he’s suddenly inviting you to Twinkle Toys to win you a few.

It’s pretty funny to think the leader of Onychinus is dusting his own shelves in his room, but there’s a reason. He’s very particular about where things are place and moved, not to mention he does keep a handful of things in his room that he refuses to let other people touch. You’re the exception. He doesn’t even know when he started to allow you to go through things, but he’ll just watch and call out to you whenever he notices you’re elbow deep in his shelves, searching for some secret object, only to find books on the best ways to disassemble and clean antique guns.

Romance Headcanons

It might be a shock to some, but this man has little to no experience when it comes to romance. He has had many people trying to catch his attention in the past, it comes with the territory of being a big boss, but nobody ever caught his eye (since he already had someone he was in love with). That being said, due to that, he wasn’t going around dating people, and sleeping around isn’t his thing. A one night stand? Never done one of those. So when he’s finally with you, despite being suave as all hell, he doesn’t have that much experience. He just goes off instinct and thankfully his instincts are pretty spot on. Perhaps he had another life where he was with a lover and gained experience that way.

While he doesn’t like you feeling jealous, he can’t say it isn’t adorable. He knows you trust him to not go for someone else, but the other women and even some men? You don’t trust them in keeping their hands off your man. Not only is Sylus insanely attractive, but he’s powerful in so many ways. Lots of people are always after him, and some people push their luck a little too much. Can’t blame you for being jealous, and while Sylus does find the demeanor to be adorable, he’s also immediately doing everything in his power to get rid of that nasty feeling in you. Stepping away from the situation, going up and taking you by the hand and making sure everyone knows he’s with somebody, and later that night telling you that you’re the only one in his eyes. He doesn’t ever let you be jealous for more than maybe five seconds if he can help it.

It’s not uncommon for people to have more than one love language, and this man happens to have two of them. Physical touch is certainly one of them. Holding your hand, having you sitting on his lap, dragging you to slow dance in the kitchen to classical music while waiting for the food to be ready on nights you two decide to cook instead of having the chef make it. His other love language? Well he can’t touch you if he can’t spend time with you. Quality time is his other. He will do everything to make time in his day for you. Asking you out for meals, inviting you over for some training or just watching a movie together, picking you up and driving you to work. Any chance he can get in his day he will try and see you, and if that doesn’t work out he’s at least calling you to see how your day is going.

It’s clear that the man has gotten a bit buffer since you two began seeing one another. His arms are a big stronger because he wants to be able to lift you up with ease wherever he goes. If you don’t like it, he won’t, unless he has to. He does enjoy having you in his arms though, and will take the opportunity. Your feet hurt from those shoes? Here, let him pick you up in one arm. Too tired? Let him carry you to bed. It just rained? He doesn’t want your shoes to be getting wet so here let him just…you get the idea. Sometimes you have to tease him because he reminds you of one of those stereotypical old ladies with a little dog in their purse all the time.

Since he’s so big on quality time, he’s willing to cancel deals if it means he can see you. If you invite him to dinner and he has an important meeting, he’ll ask if you’d like to attend with him first. If you decline though? Well the meeting can wait for another day. Or maybe he can be about three hours late. Not like it matters much to him in the end. Getting to spend his time with you is more than worth a few meetings that would probably have nothing but faulty protocores in them anyway. Worst comes to worst he sends Luke and Kieran to entertain the guests until he can make it there.

[safination]

Could you do a one shot of Human!Alastor with a flapper!reader?

Maybe where the reader is getting unwanted attention and Alastor intervenes.

Smoke and Shadows

|Masterlist| Pairings: Alastor x Wife!Reader Warnings: Murder, Alastor being Alastor Thank you to the amazing writer who betaed my fic and gave me my title @whatswrongwithblue. Give Blue all your love! You should definitely check what she writes. Requests are always open. They're just slow

Smoke blows out of your lips, micing with the cold, night air. The cigar flickers. Each puff warms your body, and calms the growing ire. Maybe, Alastor’s tastes aren’t too bad.

There’s a question that nags at you, demanding your attention . . . . No, you won’t do it.

A click of your tongue. Alastor would be annoying about the topic.

Even hinting at the idea of his ‘good’ cigar tastes would receive you a shit-eating grin or a week’s worth of that smug smile of his. You wouldn’t know what would be worse. Knowing Alastor, he would find a way to do both.

The mere thought wavers the settling calmness, and that would waste the effect of a perfectly good cigar.

Tonight’s piano player brims with talent. The sound of their jazzy keys dance with the saxophone. It brings you into this deep, deep, smokey lull. Even when those heavy, metal doors muffle their notes, it spills out into the alley, and forces that smile on your lips.

But . . . it begins how it always begins; with an alley, and a man too absorbed in his own ego.

The door opens with a slam, and that’s quite the talent, indeed. Piano notes flow out louder, it’s sound refusing to be drowned by the fever of the of the other instruments. That smile grows a fraction higher.

A man stumbles to the alley, a hand on the wall and clearly, drunk out of his mind. He rubs his fingers together, and blows his breath to keep them warm.

Smoke and laughter spill out of your lips.

It’s quite the cliché’ isn’t it? Alastor would, surely, find this hilarious – a man, a woman, and an alley.

The man snaps towards you, and that smile of his grows wide. Despite the dim lighting . . . huh, those are soft, blue eyes. They’re nice, but you prefer the warm brown ones for those warm, brown eyes wears the ring that matches yours. (His eyes crinkles when he laughs, and through that smokey haze, you wonder – Are they crinkling right now?)

“Hello, there!” he squeaks out as he rubs his hands together. “I mean, umm . . .  Good evening.”

Words spills out of that mouth of his. They carry neither weight nor substance.

So, with a lazy smile, and cold fingers, you enjoy the smoke that flows into your lungs, and tumbles out of your lips. It’s more exciting than whatever he’s saying, that’s for sure. You throw in a couple of, ‘huh . . .’s and a few dashes of, ‘oh, wow’ just for to see how long the conversation can keep going.

Smoke hits his face when he takes a step too close. A single step back, and that’s all you take.

Still, you make a point to show-off how you lean closer to the shadow’s behind. It’s funny, really, how the darkness brewing behind brings this sort of peace that not even the cigar can compete with. (An annoying peace, but still quite peaceful)

The man reaches for your cigar, snatching it right from your fingers.

“Young ladies shouldn’t be smoking these.” He takes a long inhale, then coughs out smoke. There’s a strained smile on his lips as he observes the cigar. Instead of returning a perfectly good cigar, this idiot drops it on the damp ground, and kills the flickering light with his heel.

“Ha!” You smack his bicep in good fun. “Not that young.”

“Hey, you’re looking a few minutes shy from turning into a popsicle,” he tells you, as if the cold isn’t already seeping through your bones. “Why don’t you take my coat? It wouldn’t be right to allow a lady to freeze. You can always return it to me tomorr—”

“You’re taking too long.” You click your tongue towards the shadows behind. “Hutty up. It’s cold, and you’re making me wait too long.”

It’s starts with a soft whistle of a tune. . .

The echoing sounds of footsteps bounce between the brick walls. Each step demands the attention of all. Alastor steps out of the shadows, yet their dark hands still cling to the edges of his form.

There’s a coat folded across his arms. Alastor drapes it around your shoulders, pulling on the lapels from behind to secure it. There it is again, because it’s funny, actually. The wind blows cold between the small alley, yet the cold ebbs away because of the command of such a simple jacket.

Alastor pulls on your shoulders, crashing you towards him with a hearty laugh. It bounces between your bodies, and settles into your bones. (And oh . . . his eyes are crinkling.)

“I apologize, dearest.” Despite the smile, there’s a part of you that doesn’t actually believe he’s sorry. “I was curious to see just how long you were willing to hold out for.” Alastor pokes the edges of your lips upwards to force a smile. “I had quite the laugh!”

Your eyes roll, and settle it towards the man. “He likes to think he’s hilarious.”

“Ha. Ha! Ha!” Alastor’s eye twitches for a moment, and his lips purse together. “I guess humor is something only the few possess now. It’s unfortunate to see it’s decline.”

“Oh, don’t say that, my dear,” you say, pressing a kiss on the edges of his lips with a smile. “I’m sure one day you’ll possess it as well.”

The man clears his throat, and reaches out for a handshake. It’s never given. “You sound familiar,” he says, after a long beat. “I think I’ve heard your voice before.”

“Is he being a bother, dearest?” Alastor leans towards you, and blows straight into your ear. His reward for such an action comes in the form on your elbow digging into his stomach — “oof. That’s not quite the answer I was expecting.”

“We’re all friends here.”

Alastor is smiling that strained smile that only appears when he’s relying on his habit to keep his smile up. “Hush now,” he says, and places a finger across his mouth. “I was talking to the lady.”

Those warm, brown eyes that Alastor own . . . they look at you expectantly.

You consider it for a moment, weighting your options. The real question is whether or not you actually cared about the man enough to be bothered. Notes of smoke and rich leaves linger on your tongue, and damn, that was a really good cigar. Despite that smokey hazy of calmness from the cigar, it’s the peace of Alastor that settles its annoying fingers on your nerves. He won’t release it anytime soon.

“You decide,” are the words you find yourself saying. “I don’t particularly care—Just make it quick.”

The edges of his lips curl just a little bit softer, and you know you did good.

Alastor grabs your wrist, lifting them up in the air with such an irritating flare. Really, it should be considered a talent of his – not anyone can find your last nerves, and tap-dance all over them. He places your palms over your ears. It’s a silent command, and one that you follow without complaint.

Alastor brings a hand over your eyes, and suddenly, darkness is all you’re able to see.

See? It’s a Cliché.

It began with an alley and a man, and it will end with an alley and a man.

Only the shadows listen in on the quickened footsteps. It’s lasting longer than it should, and like all games, it eventually comes to an end. And well, . . . let’s just say Alastor likes ending things with a bang!

Gunfire rings across the wall, and you sink just a little bit deeper into the arms that steady you.

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, and suddenly, you’re able to see once more. His body blocks the view of the corpse. There’s a moment there, where you try and lean over, but Alastor pokes the edges of your lips to force a smile. It doesn’t stop until you’re smiling up at him.

“I want to see,” you say, slapping his hands away. “I was the one who lured him out, and I was the one who had to wait in the cold.”

“Now, now.” Alastor plants kiss across your other cheek. “That wasn’t our agreement.”

The edges of his coat slide off your shoulders. It’s the way Alastor grabs the lapels, and secure it around your body once more that prompts the answer, “Fine, but I want to go home now.”

“Give it a moment, dearest. We can’t just leave him here.”

You fling your arms around his back, pulling him into a hug. It’s easier to sneak a look when Alastor sinks straight into your hold, and . . . woah, that’s one killer aim – straight through the head. “It’s really starting to get cold.” You blow into his ear. “So, hurry up. I’ll wait inside.”

Alastor brings your wrist high up into the air, and you have to go on the tips of your toes to stay upright. He slides his fingers across your palm, forcing them to open before intertwining your hands. “So, your ‘help’ only extends on being the bait?”

“I waited in the cold.” You try to pull your hand back, but Alastor’s grip stays firm. “As far as I’m concerned, I already did my ‘helping’.”

One of his hands snake around you, and Alastor lifts you into his hold, settling you against him. “Of course,” he says, catching your free hand to hold it once again. “But, when there’s a body to be dragged, suddenly, your assistance becomes limited.”

You show him your most innocent smile.

Alastor whistles along the tune of the piano. The feather on your head sways along as Alastor dances to the music, twisting to the beats of the notes. If the weight of carrying you in his arm hinders that determination to dance . . . well, no complaints fall off his lips.

“Al,” you begin, and lean into the crook of his neck, “the body.”

“It wouldn’t be right to allow a lady to freeze.”

Your smiled widens, warmth blossoming in your stomach. It spread through your limbs with a tingle and settles into your cheeks. Maybe, just maybe, you would admit to leaning just a little closer. “I can’t wait to go home with you.”

Alastor laughs into the air, bright and airy. So, so, full of delight.

It’s everything to you.

[writing-funsies]

OP characters as besties p.5

p.1 | p.2 | p.3 | p.4 | p.5

characters: Ace, Shanks, Mihawk

warnings: mentions of alcohol, light cussing

notes: all platonic hc's

Ace

will share his food with you

but won't let you take any off his plate

falls asleep on you all the time

uses you as his personal pillow

and will make fun of you if you freak out when riding with him on Striker

despite the fact that it's designed for only one person

but I digress

also uses you as a napkin if needed

sometimes shoots little flames at you to see your reaction

talks about Luffy nonstop

like that's the only thing he ever talks about

by the time you actually meet his little brother

you're ready to strangle both of them

not really

but you could spot the kid a mile away

before you ever actually got to know him

Ace and you working together to become more confident

always teasing each other

you having to fish him out of the ocean when he falls in

drinking contests

staring contests

fighting contests

eating contests

just competing over everything and anything possible

training together

he may be really strong and have a devil fruit power

but he won't hesitate to practice his hand-to-hand combat with you

especially if you need it

will tease you about it though

so you just push him overboard again

long talks about your lives

your pasts

your families

where you see yourselves in a year

five years

maybe even ten years

your goals

and aspirations

just talks about life

he tells you about his dad

and is relieved when you tell him that just because he was his father's son doesn't mean that'll be his legacy 

you two would die for each other

nothing will ever tear you apart

besties for the resties

9/10

super sweet and funny

but won't bathe no matter how much you beg

Shanks

party boy™

genuinely doesn't give a fuck

he's here to have fun

and protect his family

that's it

tells you the corniest jokes you've ever heard

also laughs at everything you say

like Luffy, laughs even when you're being serious

uses his missing arm as an excuse if you ever try to get him to do his duties as captain

sometimes struggles with phantom pains

but assures you they'll go away on their own

drinking contests

if he's got a drink in hand

then everyone's gonna have a good time

100% threw up on your shoes once before passing out

laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard when you told him

quickly stifles his laughter when he sees how mad you are

offers to let you throw up on his shoes to make it even

you just stare at his sandals for a moment before walking away

watching Luffy's progress through the news together

bragging about the kid as if he were your own

the antics you two get up to guarantee that Ben will have a constant headache

the rest of the crew finds your dynamic duo to be hilarious

the sheer power of this crew is near unimaginable

so if the two of you ever actually fight enemies

they don't stand a chance

if anyone ever targeted you

and hurt you

Shanks would have his crew capture your attacker

and then show them exactly why no one messes with the Red Hair Pirates

8/10

always provides a good time

but will laugh at you if you fall 

Mihawk

I ain't ever seen two pretty best friends

until now

you are probably a little more lively than this warlord

he just doesn't care for drama

which means it's up to you to keep him in the loop

yet somehow he has the truly juicy details you could only wish to find on your own

y'all have a small book club

it's just the two of you

you tried to invite Perona to join

but she thought that your reading selection was so not cute

you even tried to invite Shanks once

all that accomplished was you gaining a new drinking buddy

which Mihawk begrudgingly allowed to happen

basically, the book club is just you two sipping on wine while discussing every mistake that the author made while writing your current read

salty bitches™

you're one of the only people alive who can get Mihawk to laugh

which is your favorite party trick

except that he's never laughed at the parties you both went to

(ie visiting Shanks and getting roped into a night of drinking)

he airs out all of the other warlords' dirty laundry to you

will talk mad shit about them

well at least most of them

he finds that no matter how powerful they may be

they're all idiots in his eyes

they can't see the big picture

he trusts that you have enough common sense to use the information sparingly

and you do

for the most part

it's giving rich single wine aunt meets vodka mom (but without the kids)

9/10

knows how to relax in style

but will not let you play with his sword no matter how many times you ask

[vigilxnte-shit]

join the tuna team!

ever wanted to join a discord server full of people who share your love for one specific, depressed, hot martial artist with a lot of catholic guilt? do you have other interests such as baldur's gate 3 and musical theatre? if so, the tuna team is the place for you!

the tuna team began with the intention of a server where daredevil writers could unite to share our writing, beta read for each other, and just talk about our favorite blind lawyer/vigilante. since then, it has morphed into a place where we all talk to each other about our lives, share pictures of pets, and scream into the void about everything we love.

the tuna team welcomes anyone of any age (well, any age 18 and over), religion, gender, etc. etc. and we would love to have you! if you want to join, message me your discord username and i'll send you a friend request!

be advised that the server is 18+ and although we love charlie and his characters, we do NOT allow speculation on his personal life. we ask that anyone who joins be respectful of others' pronouns, identity, and boundaries- specifics on this are available upon request!

members of the tuna team:

here is a brief introduction to each current member of the tuna team! i am relatively new to interacting with the DD fandom (i've been a fan since 2022, but only just recently started talking with other fans online) and am frankly stunned that so many cool, talented, amazing writers who i look up to are in this server. everyone in here is inspiring and supportive, and contributes to the great vibe we have going in the server!

~~moderators~~

vienna @vigilxnte-shit: hi, as you may have noticed, this is me. i'm the owner of the server, i'm mostly here to write, talk about husband!matt, and send pictures of my cat, coconut.

brooklyn @jazerno: brooke is my irl best friend and roommate, as well as coconut's technical legal mother. brooke originally joined to be a moderator, but has since fallen for frank castle, as one tends to do.

mar @mar-thewriter: mar is a very good friend of mine who i met via another server of people i love. mar doesn't talk much here, but is a great moderator who i love dearly.

mads @madschiavelique: mads is the one who made our gorgeous get roles channel and is our coding genius. they are the ones to thank for

~~tunas~~

leg @a-leg-without-fear: leg is hysterical and our resident emoji artist. she has created all of our emoji in the server and also the lovely art featured above, as well as countless other fun works!

yuna @yarrystyleeza: yuna is the sweetest person you will ever meet and fun fact: tuna team comes from her name! yuna always has the best headcanons and her oc, madilyn, is DARLING.

sapph aka sunshine @sunflowersandsapphires: sapph is the mama of our server, she is sunshine incarnate and always has the best writing prompts + blesses our eyes with her pets!

hira aka robin @amphitrite-5: hira is a very soft and kind soul who regularly makes everyone's day with her kind words. she's also one of our best gamers and doesn't like to sleep (though really, none of us do)

via @zomtart: via is the #1 frank castle character defender and i have no choice but to respect that. they're hilarious and we love having them in the server!

i cant find mariam's tumblr: i was scrolling through mariam's messages and literally fighting the urge to laugh in the office. mariam is hysterical and our representative elektra fan.

eclipse @ecxlipse: eclipse is the baby of our server (i think) but has sent us plenty of gorgeous art and wonderful matt headcanons, and they always have the best contributions to our conversations!

crys @what-i-call-men: crys is responsible for several of the best, spiciest headcanons that have come about on the server. they also have sent the best photo of themselves wearing a DD mask.

zena @coxology101: zena is a busy bee and running her own server, but when we do hear from them, we get some of the best thoughts and BTS dardevil pictures.

ivy @catholicguiltboi: ivy is hysterical and has blessed is with photos of their son, yoshi (who i think is a lizard but i am not very smart).

pasta @pastafossa: my jaw dropped when i saw pasta wanted to join. they contribute so much laughter, many great ideas, and the best advice to the server and we are thrilled they're here.

sybil @gracethyomen: brooke and i have spent several nights since the server started laughing in our apartment over something sybil has said. they are genuinely one of the funniest people ever.

shiori @shiorimakibawrites: shiori has blessed us with some of the best matt thoughts time and time again. like pasta, their name is so recognizable to me that i was genuinely shocked when they asked to join, but i'm so grateful they did!

bella @bellaxgiornata: you'll be sick of hearing this but i genuinely could not believe bella wanted to join the server. in my eyes, she is like the taylor swift of the daredevil fandom (and for clarity's sake, that is the highest compliment i can give). in the server she constantly has the best ideas and is always so supportive of everything we all write.

lindsay @shouldbestudying41: much like bella, this is someone who i very much look up to and respect in the daredevil community. having her in the server is a blessing and they are insanely good at time management- i'm incredibly amazed by their ability to juggle so much at one time!

we also have a couple without blogs; aspen and paris. they are good irl friends of mine who don't say much, but are a joy to have in the server anyway :)

divider on top by @sister-lucifer

tuna team art by @a-leg-without-fear

[sleepykye]

I love your writings so much! Could I please request a Tamaki x Reader fanfic where Tamaki sees you always clinging to Nejire and gets jealous?

Bridging the Distance

Tamaki x Reader

Of course, my dear. I accept every single request, so please don't be shy to ask ! 🫶🏼

U.A. High School was always a whirlwind of activity, with students buzzing around, training, and preparing for their future as pro heroes. Amidst the organized chaos, Tamaki Amajiki found solace in his close-knit group of friends, the Big Three: himself, Mirio Togata, and Nejire Hado. Tamaki was used to Nejire's cheerful and energetic presence, which often served as a comforting contrast to his own shy and reserved nature.

However, recently, Tamaki noticed a new addition to their little circle: you. You were a first-year student with an infectious smile and boundless energy that rivaled even Nejire’s. From the moment you met Nejire, you two had become inseparable, constantly chatting, laughing, and clinging to each other in the hallways.

Tamaki, usually content to observe from the sidelines, found himself feeling something unfamiliar—jealousy. He wasn't used to feeling this way, especially not about someone as kind and vibrant as you. But every time he saw you with Nejire, a pang of longing and envy twisted in his chest.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling training session, Tamaki walked into the common area to find you and Nejire sitting on the couch, your head resting on Nejire's shoulder as you both giggled over something on Nejire's phone. Mirio was nearby, grinning at the scene.

"Hey, Tamaki!" Mirio called out, waving him over. "Come join us!"

Tamaki hesitated, his eyes darting to you and Nejire. He gave a small nod and walked over, sitting down awkwardly on the edge of the couch.

"Hi, Tamaki!" you greeted him with your usual enthusiasm, your eyes bright. "Nejire was just showing me some hilarious memes."

"Y-yeah, I see," Tamaki replied, forcing a small smile. "Sounds fun."

Nejire, always perceptive, noticed the tension in Tamaki's posture. "Tamaki, are you okay? You seem a little off."

He shook his head quickly. "I'm fine, really."

But Nejire wasn't convinced. "You know, (Y/N) and I were just about to go get some snacks from the cafeteria. Want to join us?"

You jumped up, grabbing Tamaki's hand. "Yeah, come with us! It'll be fun!"

Tamaki's heart skipped a beat at your touch, but he nodded, allowing you to pull him to his feet. As the three of you made your way to the cafeteria, Nejire walked ahead, chatting animatedly. You stayed close to Tamaki, your hand brushing against his every now and then.

When you arrived at the cafeteria, Nejire excused herself to grab some drinks, leaving you and Tamaki alone. You turned to him, a concerned look on your face. "Tamaki, is something bothering you? You seem... distant."

He looked down, struggling to find the right words. "It's just... I feel like I'm losing Nejire. You two are so close, and I... I don't know."

You blinked in surprise, then your expression softened. "Oh, Tamaki, I'm sorry if it seemed like that. Nejire is amazing, but that doesn't mean there's no room for you. You're important to me too."

Tamaki glanced up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Really?"

You nodded, smiling gently. "Of course. I admire you a lot, Tamaki. You're kind, strong, and always there for your friends. I want to be closer to you too, if you'll let me."

Tamaki's heart swelled at your words, and he found himself smiling genuinely for the first time that day. "I'd like that."

Just then, Nejire returned, balancing a tray of drinks. "Here we go! I got your favorites. Everything okay?"

You and Tamaki exchanged a glance, then you both nodded. "Yeah, everything's great," you said, squeezing Tamaki's hand reassuringly.

As you all sat down to enjoy your snacks, Tamaki felt the jealousy melt away, replaced by a warm sense of belonging. He realized that there was no need to be envious. With you by his side, he knew he had found something special—something worth cherishing.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

While "the network wants an episodic kids show, the authors want an epic dark complicated narrative" would explain A LOT about ML's problems, I'd still like to note that there are kids' shows that can do both, going full range from "mostly episodic with a sprinkle of narrative" (Kim Possible, MLP), to "heavily narrative but with episodic breather/filler episodes" (Gravity Falls, WITCH, the Owl House), with many variants in-between.

Even the transition from "fully episodic" to "more narratively-connected" that ML attempted to do can be done successfully - the aforementioned Gravity Falls and WITCH were more episodic in season 1 and more narratively driven in season 2.

However, I'd say there are a few other key problems that can be inferred from what we have:

The show tries too many things at once - as you have pointed out repeatedly. Magical girl and rom-com, single-hero, duo and team stories, wacky comedy and serious trauma, even trying to give several characters a redemption and a damnation arc at the same time (and failing with either). Apparently, it's not just TF vs writers: it's writers severely disagreeing with each other (see Thomas and Vincent's opinions on Chloe), and also trying to one-up the fans. Also, simply thinking too much of the work, which leads us to...

ML's total lack of self-awareness. Another famous case of a show that was almost entirely episodic is Phineas and Ferb. They use the same formula (the brothers build, Candace busts, Doof makes an Inator and is thwarted by Perry) over and over for four seasons. And by mid-season 1, the authors have been making fun of the structure, lampshading it, spoofing and twisting it, playing with "What if" episodes and never taking itself too seriously. When ML tries to be self-aware, it becomes either insulting to the fans (Animaestro), horrifically dark (Chat Blanc) or plain cringe (Simpleman). This is exacerbated by Astruc's arrogance and inability to ignore critics.

Is it possible to make a highly complex, genre-busting, yet kid-friendly story and succeed? Yes. But it needs to be better thought-out - if not from the start, then at the moment the network allows one to deviate from the formula.

And if all else fails and the story becomes too complicated and too repetitive at the same time... Well, self-awareness and the ability to make fun of one's own work can turn a sad mess into a hilariously fun disaster.

P. S. Love your posts as always, you are the main reason I'm still in the fandom!

Thank you for the kind words! I'm so glad that you're enjoying my stuff and I agree with all the things you brought up.

A big part of the reason that Miraculous is so fascinating to me is that there ISN'T a single cause of the issues. There are so many valid ways to discuss the show's problems. It's a masterclass in bad writing and what not to do!

It's why I'm able to run this blog. If it was as simple as, "here's the single reason why it's bad and here's how you fix that" or if the show never had any potential, then there wouldn't be much to talk about. But it did have potential and there is no single reason why it's bad. The causes are multitudinous as are the potential fixes! It feels like investigating some complex wreckage or an elaborate murder mystery in order to understand what the hell happened, which is really fun if you like talking about writing.

I find it much harder to discuss writing in an informative way if you only have good examples to draw from because that path risks stifling creativity. Just because a popular story did a thing well doesn't mean that story showed us the only way to do the things or even the best way to do the thing, but that's often the lesson people seem to learn. They see a thing that they like or even just a thing that audiences liked and want to copy it without understanding the full nuance of why they liked it.

A great example of this is Zuko from Avatar the Last Airbender. He was such a well-written and popular character that all these properties started copying him even though the properties in question did NOT have a setup that worked for a Zuko. Praising Zuko won't really tell you all the ways that Zuko could have failed. Meanwhile, a case study of Chloe vs Zuko or even just a general discussion of Chloe lets you actually talk about the various styles of redemption arc and what you have to do to make them feel real. It's also far more interesting than talking how Zuko could have failed because Zuko didn't fail so why are we even talking about this? It's also far more interesting than talking about a bunch of properties that did redemption arcs well because that would require you to have seen all of those properties. But Chloe is from a single property and she did fail and people understandably have wildly different feelings about what the failure was because the writing was so bad, which means that digging into her writing is way more likely to hold your interest and teach you something.

This gif really does sum it up perfectly:

[Image description: scene from the movie Knives Out where the detective Benoit Blanc exclaims "It makes no damn sense! It compels me though" to explain his feelings on an ongoing murder mystery that he's trying to solve]

As does the old adage, "failure is the greatest teacher." Of course, no one ever said that it had to be your failure!

[spotofimagines]

Dating George Weasley as a Ravenclaw would include...

A/N: This is the longest Would Include I've done, so long there's a read more! But I'm in a Weasley mood lately so here you go!

George Weasley x Ravenclaw reader

He sits and watches you study in the library every now and then.

Sometimes he just wants the company but is too tired to do anything but he doesn't want to interrupt you so he sits slumped in his chair, watching you write or holding your ink for you.

Other times, he will be scribbling doodles for a new sweet Fred wants to sell, heaps of parchment mixing with yours.

He always helps you put your books back when you're finished, traipsing behind you with heavy feet, but helping nonetheless.

You're the first person he comes to for help with pranks. He and Fred come up with the ideas, but you know whether the potion ingredients will work, how to say the spell properly and whether the creature they want to release in the Slytherin common room will destroy the whole school. They really would have been expelled by now if not for you.

You also helped them branch out their business by selling stuff in the Ravenclaw common room since they aren't allowed in there.

You become very popular amongst first-year troublemakers, and the small group of older Ravenclaws set up a space in the corner of the common room to buy the concoctions that will give them more time to finish their essays.

George makes sure none of his antics blow back on you. You work far too hard to have your post-school career knocked because you got too many detentions and failed your exams and he knows it.

Although you are on Filch's bad side for distracting him whilst the twins get their confiscated items from his office. And George's response to that? "Who isn't on his bad side?"

He absolutely rubs it in your face when Gryffindor beats Ravenclaw in a quidditch match, whether you really care or not, that's what he'll be spending an hour doing after he's won.

You have a running deal; you buy him a butterbeer for each match he wins and he buys you dinner each time he loses to Ravenclaw. So far George has had countless drinks. You are yet to have one meal.

He always gives you his things to wear; jumpers, hats, scarves, anything really.

But he will never, absolutely never, wear your Ravenclaw scarf; lord help him you'd think the thing was made of fire by the way he avoids it.

You don't know Oliver Wood very well, but he gave you one of the biggest scoldings you have ever received when George couldn't play a quidditch match because you'd been chasing him in the courtyard with your scarf and he fell over his own feet, landing weirdly on his elbow and hip.

After the stern lecture from Oliver and spending two days in the hospital wing with George and occasionally Fred, who found the whole ordeal hilarious, you didn't tease him with your Ravenclaw items again for a long time. He still avoids that scarf like the plague.

You're the only friend of the twins that Percy can tolerate.

Probably because when you visited The Burrow during Christmas breaks, you talked to him about his work and being head boy without ridiculing him. (And you smack George's arm when he makes rude jokes which Percy quite enjoys seeing).

George sits and listens to you rant when you need it.

He watches as you pace back and forth, words never stopping until you've gotten everything out. Then he just pulls you into a long tight hug before he tries to distract you from your problem.

About half of George's herbology work is written by you, and half his transfiguration work and probably half his care for magical creatures work too if he didn't manage to weasel Charlie into unknowingly writing him an essay every month in his letters.

George 100% tries making a million invisibility products and polyjuice potions to try and sneak into your common room at night, but Hogwarts is much too equipped to let him find success at it.

So you had to find a secret spot in the castle for your late-night rendezvous without teachers or prefects finding out.

At first, it was the girls' lavatories but Myrtle's snooping and laughter made it less than perfect. The ghost whispering in his ear halfway through a makeout session made George far too irritated to go there for a third time.

He leaves you little love notes all over the place, some telling you to keep smiling, some telling you a weird joke, some telling you how smoking you look (and now you definitely have to make sure no one can see these notes except you!).

When you have exams or projects due his love notes get more frequent since he knows you'll be stressed and seeing him less.

He always attempts to eat every meal with you in the great hall. This way you can catch up on what you've both been up to and how your classes have been while he makes sure you remember to take breaks from studying to eat properly.

If things get in the way (*cough* detention *cough*) he will take you out to The Three Broomsticks on the weekend, just the two of you, and maybe Fred, but he swears he told Fred not to come this time!

He told you about the marauders' map a day after finding it because he was certain there was something special about the spare roll of parchment in Filch's office they found under Fred's nose-biting teacups.

It was you nonchalantly guessing there's a spell keeping its contents secret before carrying on reading your book that gave him the best tool he could have wished for.

That's why you're the only other person who knows about the map. You've spent many hours sitting tucked into his side, munching on chocolate frogs and watching people walk around on the paper.

That's how you found out Fred and Angelina were dating but George's excitement to tease them about it more mischievously outweighed your want to learn the details from your friend.

Despite all of George's silliness and trouble, he might just be one of the smartest people you know outside of Ravenclaw.

Not that anyone else believes you when you say it, as his pranks are known to be foolish, but you've seen the way he and Fred create their products and plan their business throughout the years. No one else has the mix of academic and streets smarts to be that successful, you're sure of it.

[vermilionsun]

may i have headcanons about vere with a fox mc pls 😔🤲🤲 i had a vision of him being kinda more at ease with them or like biting their ears as a joke if they are close enough

your writing is so scrumptious

OMG Y E S and thank you so much 😭😭

Disclaimer! They/them for MC because we love inclusivity!

✦ Background

Vere is at least a hundred years old but he’s also a divine being. With that said, let's put the MC at their in–game age.

✦ First meeting

During their first encounter in the Amaryllis District, the MC would immediately sense Vere's presence, which might have prevented the cunning Monster from snatching their key (30/70). Since they are both foxian, it would make Vere's ego slightly defloat from being unable to catch the MC off—guard like in the demo.

✦ Slowly but surely, a familiarity began to develop between the two. The MC found themselves drawn to Vere's mysterious aura and sharp wit, while Vere was intrigued by the MC's resilience and quick thinking. As they spent more time together, Vere's competitive nature softened and the MC's guard came down. They started to understand each other's strengths and weaknesses, forming a… unique bond that neither of them (nor anyone else in Eridia) could have anticipated. 

✦ Abilities

The MC's heightened senses allowed them to anticipate Vere's movements and stay one step ahead and away. Vere, on the other hand, was impressed by the MC's quick reflexes and agility.

✦ Smell

It played a significant role in their interactions, as the MC's keen sense of smell picked up on Vere's subtle shifts in emotions, while Vere's own ability to discern scents helped them understand the MC's mood without the need for words. (The MC understood now how bad Leander's after-shave situation was.)

✦ Ears

Since younger foxes get easily overstimulated by loud noises, Vere made sure to speak softly and avoid sudden sounds around MC. Vere's trained ears allowed him to pick up on subtle sounds that could potentially trigger MC's sensory overload.

Additionally, the MC noticed how Vere's ears would subtly twitch when he was deep in thought, providing a visual cue to his inner workings. 

✦ ✨Chomp✨

It's a calm morning; the sun rises slowly over the horizon, the birds chirp softly, and a light breeze rustles through the trees.

The MC wakes up to a small tinge of pain in their ear. They try to shake off the discomfort, but it persists, causing them to wonder if they might have slept on it wrong. As they reach up to touch their ear, they feel a pair of fangs… and a mouth… and a nose…

A familiar scent fills their nose.

It's Vere. Vere is biting their ear with a grin.

"…WHAT the FUCK are you doing here?"

Vere chuckles mischievously, "Just thought I'd drop by for a little wake-up call."

The MC groans. Then Vere bites them again. MC pushes Vere away, rubbing their throbbing ear.

"I can't believe you snuck into my room just to bite my ear," they mutter, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement.

Vere just laughs, clearly finding it hilarious. "You know you love it," Vere teases, flashing a playful smile.

The MC just looks at him before biting his ear.

"OW YOU-"

✦ Habits

The MC found themselves studying Vere's habits, trying to piece together the puzzle of who he really was beneath the calm exterior. The swaying of his tail when irritated, the way he meticulously soothed the fur on his tail after a stressful encounter, and the slight tilt of his head when listening intently.

The MC would perhaps imitate some of Vere's habits, and the other way around, finding solace in each other's quirks and idiosyncrasies.

✦ Play fight

The playful banter between the MC and Vere often escalates into mock fights, with each trying to outwit the other. It's a way for them to release pent-up tension; their movements fluid and coordinated as they danced around each other in a playful display of strength.

This includes scratching, biting, shoving, and even some light wrestling.

Despite the roughhousing, there is always an underlying sense of trust that they won't kill each other… right?

✦ Nuzzling

One habit that particularly intrigued Vere was the way the MC would nuzzle their cheek against his hand when seeking comfort. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes about how far the two had come. Vere found himself reciprocating the gesture, soon cuddling up next to the MC whenever he needed a moment of calm. Vere's warm breath against the MC's skin, the gentle nuzzling of their noses together, their tails wrapping around each other.

✦ Tale–care

Vere is very particular about his tail-care. He would spend hours grooming and preening his luxurious tail, making sure every strand was in place and shining brightly. The MC, on the other hand, was more laid-back when it came to their own tail-care routine. Vere would often tease them about their lack of attention to detail, but the MC would just laugh it off and carry on with their day.

Until one day, Vere's self-restraint broke, and he offered to help the MC with their tail-care routine, the "proper way," as he called it. The two spent hours together, Vere teaching the MC how to properly care for their tail, demonstrating his meticulous techniques, and explaining the importance of maintaining a healthy, groomed, nice-smelling tail. That was also the one and only time Vere brushed their tail for them, and never again.

✦ Hunting and Food

Foxes eat at least half their weight a day. Depending on how carnivorous the MC feels; they might join Vere in a hunt. They had never considered themselves to be violent or predatory, but there was something primal and exhilarating about the thought of stalking prey alongside someone as skilled as Vere. 

In the end, food ended up becoming a common ground for the two, with Vere introducing the MC to exotic dishes from different regions of Eridia. The MC, in turn, shared their favorite comfort foods and recipes from their own homeland. (Did Vere eat any of it? Well…)

✦ Hair hair HAIR

Grooming became another shared interest between them, with Vere insisting on helping the MC style their hair to match their unique foxian features. 

✦ Double trouble

Chaos follows them like a shadow. Eridia is barely able to handle one of them alongside all the other messed up divine-ish murderous beings—imagine having two… A pure whirlwind of confusion and mayhem is left in their wake. Their partnership becomes a force to be reckoned with. T̶h̶e̶ S̶e̶n̶o̶b̶i̶u̶m̶ w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ h̶u̶n̶t̶ a̶n̶d̶ k��i̶l̶l̶ t̶h̶e̶ w̶e̶a̶k̶e̶s̶t̶ o̶f̶ t̶h̶e̶ t̶w̶o̶, f̶o̶r̶c̶i̶n̶g̶ t̶h̶e̶ o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ t̶o̶ w̶e̶a̶r̶ t̶h̶e̶ c̶o̶l̶l̶a̶r̶ a̶n̶d̶ c̶o̶n̶t̶i̶n̶u̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶ a̶s̶s̶a̶s̶s̶i̶n̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n̶s̶.

[nilolol30]

Hello! Could you write Mayor being freinds with a reader who has uncontrollable time travel powers? Like, they just randomly travel through time every week and keep running into him.

At first he would think you just don't run into eachother much.

But as your meetings slowly happens often he comes to like you a little and wants to 'bump' into you more.

It takes a bit but he realizes what's happening and honestly.

He finds it hilarious.

A poor little mortal unwillingly pops back or forward in time and pops back to theirs, this certainly will entertain him until his lady arrives.

Whenever he sees you he likes to poke a little fun (insults) about your inability to control this power.

But as most things it got boring and he gets very bored whenever you're not around much.

So he decided to help you out of the goodness of his heart! What kind of Mayor would he be to allow someone to suffer in his city?

Thanks to his lady he holds some power to help you and depending on what timeline you're from he might ask or demand information specifically if you're from the future.

Perhaps if he's lucky you still have your ability and can just travel at your own will won't that be useful!

Pushing aside his destiny talk he can be a considerate friend.

After all he's the Mayor who would he be if he made his friends pay for him!

And creepily he remembers everything you say, you mention your favorite foods? Oh look at that stall it's on sale! Favorite genre? There's a movie at the theater that looks to be in your taste!

Unfortunately his habit of popping up out of nowhere is still something you'll have to get used to.

As long as you're on his lady's side or remain neutral you have a decent semi loyal friend.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 2.4

It's in the paper that Allen Klein was involved in 40+ lawsuits and John doesn't question it? At this point, I feel like he just didn't want to let Paul be right about anything. 

My question is who did that work on before? I mean who fucking does business like that? Let alone business with the most successful man in the world. 

John's complaining about Paul being too good at his job is both hilarious (what the hell is Paul supposed to do with that) and sad (it shows just how far their musical relationship has degraded from partners to rivals)

How did they lose Northern Songs? Genuinely, if anyone can break it down for me I'd be so grateful. Anyway I'm sure it was devastating for both of them. “Who'd have the children?” “Dick James”. 

I know I'm insane, but can I be allowed to see a glimmer of goodness here? I really do think it's John's kinder side winning out when he decides not to lie. Like, yes, he gets a buzz off of watching Paul go white at his words, but I think he also just – in that moment – didn't have the heart to trick Paul into staying. 

But also. Why are we trying to maneuver Paul at all if the end game is for John to leave? It just doesn't make sense to try to trick Paul into signing the contract unless John's divorce threat is at the very least not meant to be final. 

I will never understand this picture. Even in the emotional state he's in, he's still hamming it up? There is something seriously wrong with this man. 

I do find it interesting that the fact that Paul cried his eyes out after that meeting isn't even mentioned in the doc. I wonder why. 

Let's put the bizarre, super-warped timeline in this quote aside for a minute. Apparently the depression started after Brian died and it lasted for about two years and John was still in it during Pepper. Okay. That aside . . .

I have to assume this negative lense on what I can only assume means the period between 66 and 68 is highly influenced by hindsight bias. I agree that John was depressed at the time, in an unhappy marriage, doing too much LSD, etc and that looking at Paul's prolific talent and expansive , fast-paced life would have been maddening. But everyone go back to the end of part one really quick. He looks extremely happy. He sounds extremely happy. Everyone who knows him says he's never been happier. I think he just can't accept right now that there was so much good and he's lost it. 

“I look from the wings at the play you are staging . . . I don't know why nobody told you how to unfold your love.”

Insanity quote Hall of Fame. Paul explaining why the Beatles just had to break up, obviously, because he and John "didn't marry the same girl." Someone write the fic where John and Paul both marry the same girl. Could be Yoko or Linda. Sister trad wives au. 

Okay, cool, so this means I have full permission to interpret and tin hat about any lyrics I want then, right?

But also. Are we just not going to talk about the fact that Paul dumped a bucket of garbage water and punched this person? And are we not mentioning the depression and alcoholism and heroin abuse during this time?

It's so embarrassing how he looks to her for confirmation here. John, they asked you what you think. Just you. Not some complicated definition. Not Yoko's definition. Just your own thoughts.

“I couldn't wait for them to make up their mind about peace or whatever. About committing themselves.” Yeah, John. You sound real committed to peace. Or whatever. Here's a theory that anyone can shoot down if they want: John asked Paul for some kind of commitment (a friendship wedding, a partnership contract, a mutual wanking pledge) in India and Paul was a chicken about it. 

What was that day like, I wonder? I imagine extremely stiff and professional and horrid. But who knows. Maybe it was nice, and maybe that made everything worse.

I will go to my death believing that instant karma was for Paul. 

Do we think John actually did send Paul “about twenty postcards from Denmark” all covered in hearts none of which Paul responded to? Paul could be just as cruel in his lack of reaction as John was in his over reaction.

I'm sorry but that is not what a man says when he's just lying to the press to buy time for business. That's what a man says to the press when he's trying desperately to communicate with someone who he can't get through to any other way. 

But really, I just don't understand why the creator chose to minimize Paul's emotional response to John's divorce statement. If we don't see him bawling his eyes out and losing the will to live, he comes off like a self-assured, uncaring, jerk. Which. To be fair. John didn't see those things, and that is exactly what John thought of Paul during this time. But still. The audience now comes away from this doc with a skewed view. 

All we get is Paul being pissed off about Phil Spector butchering Let it Be without his consent and John and George trying to change McCartney's release date without his consent. Which are both a) understandable and b) strong, male, angry reactions. Making this section portray Paul in the same one-dimensional hyper-masculine way that John so often is. Which isn't my favorite. But hey, it's my only complaint about this doc so far.

Anyway, update: I won't be able to do part three until it gets reuploaded, so we're on hiatus for this project for the time being.

[k2ntoss]

do you… perchancely keep writing for… john as a mentor

(this is me)

i mean if you are can you write headcanons? how he would be? feel free to ignore i guess😔😔

okay can i fucking kiss you????? I THOUGHT I'D NEVER GET TO THIS DAY AND I MISSED MENTOR!JOHN I STOPPED WRITING BC I WASN'T SURE SOMEONE WOULD LIKE IT IF I CONTINUED AAAAAAAAAA

welcome to new mentor!john constantine headcanons from your local delusional girlie <3 i was craving this so... really self indulgent :3

⋆ mentor!john constantine who at first is strictly against having you as his apprentice, the man says he can't deal with brats but deep down he just doesn't want to get attached

⭒ mentor!john constantine who lets you stay with him after you follow him for weeks and start to catch up with his tricks, you suddenly know how to sneak into the same old and haunted buildings and he turns around fast af when he hears you start muttering an ancient exorcism

⋆ mentor!john constantine who in the end gets attached to you because he sees a part of him in you and he gets a flash of what he could've been if only he had someone to rely on, because john has a small faint trace of dad instincts in him that makes him protective in his own jerk-ish way

⭒ mentor!john constantine who brings you new ocultism books and also whatever he finds about what you like about magic and supernatural stuff, he feeds the curiosity and eagerness to learn in the safest way he knows because there's no way he'll risk it letting you try something you know nothing about

⋆ mentor!john constantine who gets drunk very often and yaps about everything he has lived, telling you long ass stories about rituals and exorcisms he has done before he starts rambling about the most hilarious shit non-magic related he did, by the year you've spend by his side you have a lot of blackmail material on him

⭒ mentor!john constantine who stops seeing you lile his apprentice and most like his child, he knows you found him covered in some nasty ghosty goo in an alley but he feels like you're his kid and deep down he thanks every deity he knows for your company and for the fact that he's been able to take care of you and viceversa, he thanks the opportunity of being cared for too

⋆ mentor!john constantine who not only teaches you magic but also how to drink without passing out and how to play music, he indulges that part when he sees how much of him has grown into you like c'mon it's too easy to pick up his traits and be kind of a mini-me, he also has allowed you to smoke a little but not like him

⭒ mentor!john constantine who almost passed out the first time you accidentally called him dad while he was driving for a case, it took him at least an hour and in mid-mission he spuns around "did you really called me dad, kid?" and even if he sounds a bit annoyed you can see the glint of anticipation on his eyes "you've been acting like my old-man for a year, is that so weird?" and despite being scared of getting even more attached he adores having a little weird family

⋆ mentor!john constantine who almost spat a lung the day you asked him to get matching tattoos but accepted at the end bc it was bonding with his kid... he ended up with a cat in a witch hat inked on his forearm along with the runes scattered all over his skin and he knew damn well you'd ask him if you could get the same when the time came

⭒ mentor!john constantine who has a fucking field day when you start to mess with chas, john is always there telling you what you can say and laughs out loud when you start nagging at his best friend because once again, he sees himself in you but this time it's a better version of himself and he wishes you can stay like that forever

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 39 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | season 2 | lesson 38 | lesson 40

this was hilarious until i remember that satan is indeed the avatar of wrath and has destroyed the house of lamentations more tines than i can count on both hands. then it got slightly less hilarious, but it's still hilarious

ik we all joke about lucifer being satan's dad bc he technically is but this is PEAK father-son behavior 😭 satan throwing a temper tantrum, no pun intended, over not being able to adopt a cat is one of the funniest things ever actually

y'all know i love me some angst but dear GOD am i happy that we're getting something lighthearted after the emotional rollercoaster that was lesson 38

also we got our room back hehe 🫶🏽

aaaaand now they back to brothers

"nuh uh" "uh huh" DAMN just let him have the cat 😭

shithead lucifer my beloved 🫶🏽 and it's even more heartwarming bc we can see how much he's relaxed and recovered from the incident in cocytus. him smiling and laughing and joking with his brothers freely after the fear of losing them has finally been dissipated has to be a weight off of his shoulders, and a weight off of his brothers' shoulders, too. he's probably been less of himself since the fall, and this is probably more reminiscent of the lucifer from back in the celestial realm

i hc that mammon's familiars/crows just roam around the house freely, so this is even more frustrating for satan bc he's like "well if mammon can have pets, why can't i?"

oh baby :(((

just when i thought we'd gotten away from the angst, i was reminded that we are (i am) indeed on lesson 39 outta 40...ykw at least i was happy for a little bit

10/10 storytelling and writing. i love it when siblings ACTUALLY act like siblings, bc some media doesn't do sibling dynamics justice

granted, solomon isnt their sibling, but lucifer said it once AND doubled down bc he saw that it pissed satan off the first time. the older sibling in me smiled

ik i've said this before but...

lucifer says he hates when his brothers pester him like they don't get it from him 😭 oh no, if it isn't the consequences of your own actions!

now i feel like mammon might be onto something...what if he actually is stronger than lotan? but he doesn't want things to go past empty, playful threats bc hurting lotan would devastate levi, and he adores his little brother too much to do anything that irresponsible. more on this here

the brothers ever 🫶🏽 petty sibling dynamics always get me

satan reusing asmo's phrase after lucifer and solomon used it against him is peak comedy

ADHD TWINS

i can't do long, complicated shit for the life of me without getting sidetracked or overwhelmed

...unless it's these long ass posts

but that's different...kind of

so THAT'S why he was giggling and kicking his feet the whole time?? "hehehe" my ass you sly bitch

also, you can see the amount of pride lucifer feels towards satan just by the way he's acting throughout this entire lesson. he also knew wholeheartedly that satan would, one way or another, find a way to summon the white dragon. he egged satan on and teased him on purpose, which probably made his powers stronger. but i feel like the teasing also was a mask for encouragement

it was obviously still teasing at the heart, but there was a little more to it that reflected how proud lucifer is of his baby brother for coming into his own

also satan initiating the family picture at the end ??? I SOBBED

the lucifer from our timeline would NEVER allow a pet into the house. but the lucifer from our timeline also didn't get to heal the way this lucifer did, so now i'm kinda sad just thinking about that

maybe he thinks having a pet would mean that they're permanently staying in one place? and he still doesn't feel secure enough in his place in the devildom even after all the time he's spent there, even after making a home and a name for himself and his brothers. maybe he considered letting satan get a pet once mc came into the picture, and still toys with the idea, but keeps deciding against it for some internal reason that he won't address

MY WIFE MY BELOVED THE LOVE OF MY LIFE IS BACK

they really do invite any and everyone into the family. i love them so much it makes me insane

completely unrelated but i never realized that the kiss sounds are different for each brother ??? is thus just a nightbringer thing or am i just too far removed from the og game