#rosa the domestic

[justplainwhump]

Pirate Lady

This is a very, very far time jump in the storyline of Pet Safety. And a small one in Angel's story .

Because there's a happy ending, eventually, and I think, you deserve to see at least a part of it.

Enjoy.

Content: Hints at the BBU setting (but from an escape / recovery perspective). Mentioned past death of a family member.

The doorbell rang.

Usually, Rosa would open the door at the Woodward house. But these days nothing was usual any longer. 

Bradley's father was dead, his mother a disheveled mess, and his older sister had pulled the consequences she'd always said she would and ran off. She'd called eventually, told him she was safe and far away. He thought he'd heard the sea in the background.

In front of all that, it was off-putting how much Bradley's life had stayed the same. Sloane hadn't asked him to tag along. He would have, probably. But alone, on his own, he hadn't mustered the courage. He'd pulled out his long packed, long stashed bag, stared at it for a while, and then stuffed it back and went to bed.

Rosa had hugged him particularly long that night, and he'd let it happen, a little surprised, but still glad. Rosa's hugs were the best.

Rosa.

Even she had changed after his father's death. 

She was still quiet, still utterly reliable, cared for Bradley, made his breakfast, brought him to school and picked him up again, helped with his homework, but she was... more, even though he didn't know more of what. Vibrant, maybe. Alive.

Her movements were less mechanic, her smiles more rare but also, when they showed, somewhat deeper. 

He liked her like this, but somehow, the change in her was more terrifying than all the other things happening around him.

And it all culminated in this one day, when it was Bradley who answered the door, because Rosa was in the basement, storing away some things from his late father's wake.

Another person to offer belated condolences, he'd figured, when he saw a the shape of a woman dressed in black through the milky glass. He hated these visitors, with their fake smiles, their feigned interest, and their casual contempt of teenagers.

With a sigh, he opened the door.

The woman was short, with dark brown hair, playing into red. She was dressed rather like a fighter than a mourner, he realized, in black jeans, black blouse, and a leather jacket. The most fascinating thing about her, however, was the black eyepatch covering her left eye. 

Her other eye was gray, like a sword, Bradley thought, and she stared him down wordlessly.

She didn't seem like someone to visit his parents. She was way too cool.

She was, however, also pretty scary.

"Um," Bradley said. "I don't think you've come to the right place."

She looked at the house, the facade, the inside behind him, and then back at his face, almost wistful. "You do look like your father," she said. It didn't sound like a good thing. 

"He's dead," Bradley said flatly. He didn't particularly know why he felt the urge to say it. It came out like an excuse.

She smirked at that. "I know," she said.

Nothing about condolences. Nothing else, either, even though the muscles in her neck clenched. It seemed as if she wanted to speak, but... couldn't. 

He felt a pang of sympathy. Like when he was asked to read his English homework in class. This woman was way too dangerous looking to be afraid of teachers, he thought. She couldn't be afraid of him, now, could she?

"Are you... are you looking for something?", he offered.

"Ro...", she began, before her voice broke off. Her breath was shaky. "Rosa?"

"Rosa?" Bradley couldn't hide his surprise. Rosa didn't have any friends. Rosa didn't... she didn't have anyone, except for him and Sloane. Right? She wouldn't keep secrets from them. Or. Did she? 

A weird jealousy hit him. "Why?" he asked, more sharply than intended.

She flinched.

The scary, cool, biker pirate woman in front of him flinched at the sound of his voice.

What the hell.

"Sorry," he hurried to say. "Sorry, I, uh. I don't know. I'll... I'll get her. Wait a second." He turned over his shoulder and called "Rosa?"

"Coming," Rosa called back from the basement.

The pirate woman's hand clasped around the railing. She seemed to have paled, suddenly. For a moment, Bradley was afraid she'd puke right there, on their front porch.

Then he heard Rosa come up the stairs, and stepped back.

"How can I-" Rosa began, and then froze. Like he had pressed pause in a video game. He'd never seen her like this. He'd never seen her in shock or afraid or even at loss of words. 

The pirate woman's lip twitched, curved into a slow smile, that spread over her entire face, like a sunrise, and in that light Bradley suddenly realized how stunningly beautiful she was. 

"Hi," she whispered. "Hi Rosa. I've missed you."

Rosa didn't say anything.

"It's time," said the pirate softly. "For us."

Still silent, eyes glued to the strangers', Rosa reached for a coat from the racket. It was one of Bradley's moms', an expensive designer piece, long coat in a dark red.

Rosa put it on, almost mechanically, then kicked off her rubber clogs and slipped into a pair of sneakers. They were Bradley's, he realized dimly, but couldn't even find himself to bother.

Rosa lifted a hand to undo the strict bun on her head. Long, black hair fell over her shoulders. She smiled now, too.

And Bradley was struck with the realization that he'd never actually seen her happy. Never. 

She was, now.

She stepped forward, past him, without as much as a sideglance.

"Ro… Rosa?", he asked slowly.

But he didn't exist. Not to her.

"Blanca," she whispered. Her voice was hoarse. "Blanca. Blanca. Blanca."

"Yeah," the pirate whispered. There were tears in the corners of her eye. "It's me. I remember, Rosa. I… I remember." She lifted a hand.

Rosa took it.

Hand in hand with the stranger, their fingers interlaced, she walked through the door, down the steps, through the house's neat little yard, to a car parked in the street with its motor running.

A tall man pushed the car door open from inside.

Rosa got in without looking back even once.

A cold draft was blowing into the house, and Bradley shivered.

"Rosa?", he whispered, but he knew it was to himself only.

She was gone.

-

--

pet safety tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @gottawhump @flowersarefreetherapy @whumplr-reader @highwaywhump @tauntedoctopuses @pigeonwhumps @whumppsychology @labgrowndemon @whumpinggrounds @somewhumpyguy @whumpzone @tragedyinblue @theelvishcowgirl @light-me-on-pyre @whumps-and-bumps

[quixot1sm]

all the starters <3 they’ll all get full images eventually!!

[clay-pidgeon]

what holds you back

[ejzah]

A/N: Since it’s Fair time for me, I figured I might as well take Densi along for the ride.

***

Let’s Go to the Fair

No, no, not that one!” Kensi shouted, waving her hands frantically as Deeks held a pair of scissors, pointed to cut a deep red rose twined around a trellis.

“What’s wrong with this one?” he asked, pointing at the perfect bloom with the point of one blade.

“It’s too small.”

“Kensi, I think it looks fine,” Rosa assured her.

“Fine isn’t good enough,” Kensi insisted fiercely.

Under the combined attention of Kensi and Rosa, their garden had flourished this year. It seemed Kensi had finally overcome her black thumb for the most part, and Rosa was particularly adept at gardening. Deeks often joked that Rosa possessed secret powers since the plants she tended were particularly lush, especially for the climate.

Together, the two of them had cultivated a variety of vegetables and flowers. Deeks happily pruned, watered, fed, and picked as needed.

Currently, they were all outside, the twins playing in the grass while the three adults picked flowers.

“This is my first time entering flowers. I want to do it right.” Kensi’s intensity made Deeks grin.

“It’s just a county fair,” Rosa reminded her with a gentle smile. “It’s supposed to be fun.”

“I am having fun,” Kensi said, sounding surprised at the implication that stressing over finding just the right flower arrangements wasn’t enjoyable for her.

“She really is,” Deeks agreed. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Kens thrives on competition.”

“Sometimes I forget.”

Cutting a larger but equally beautiful rose, Deeks handed it over to Rosa to place with others in a bucket.

“Alright, what’s next?”

Ah—dadata,” Caleb said, somehow having found his way to the edge of the blanket and stretching far enough to reach the edge of the flower bucket.

“Woah, where you think you’re going, sir?” Deeks asked, pulling him back a few feet just before disaster struck.

Sophia complained on his behalf in a long string of babble, shaking both fists to show her anger.

“Well, I’m sorry, but mommy and Rosalie worked very hard on those flowers. So you cannot have them. I know it breaks your tiny hearts.”

Caleb just grinned up at him in a way that suggested it would be the last attempt to cause mischief.

“Here, how about a nice octopus to chew on?” Deeks offered, holding out a vibrating teething toy. Sophia batted it out his hand with a another squawk. “Ok, but I’m not picking it up for you.”

He set Caleb back in the middle of the blanket with a few toys, chuckling as he immediately began babbling back and forth with Sophia, likely planning their next shenanigans.

“Thank you, baby,” Kensi said, kissing Deeks’ cheek.

“Anything for my favorite gardeners.”

A couple hours later, they’d moved inside and several vases sat lined up on the kitchen table. Deeks had been on baby duty and in charge of attaching exhibit tickets.

“What do you think?” Kensi asked, stepping back with an uncertain expression.

“They look amazing,” Rosa said. “We did a good job.”

Deeks eyed them critically, taking a moments to examine them from every angle. “I’d give them all the ribbons. Beautiful work, ladies.”

Kensi rolled her eyes, but wrapped her arms around his middle anyway. “Thank you.”

“And if I don’t win anything, we’ll come back stronger next year,” she declared.

***

A/N: Much like Kensi, I have a bad track record when it comes to keeping plants alive in the long term. My mom and sister are the gardeners.

[sunlightmurdock]

Babymoon sex with Sub Rosa Roo and lil Kazansky would be so soft 🥹

Ugh omg yes it so would! I feel like Rooster would be in full, stressed out mama Goose mode. Trying to baby proof the house, preparing the nursery and insisting that it’s never quite done, taking care of lil Kazansky like that’s his full time job. Studying safe sleep, Lamaze, breast feeding and formula feeding — he’s very involved in the entire pregnancy. But he’s still a full-time aviator too, and he’s just burning the candle at both ends.

He never takes it out on her, but he’s stressed. He has slammed Hangman into six lockers since he started working on the nursery and Jake’s patience with the soon to be dad is wearing thin. Lil Kazansky makes the executive decision to give Rooster a well deserved break.

She organises all of it, a seven day trip to Catalina Island. It’s far enough from the house to force Bradley to leave the responsibilities behind, but close enough for him to actually go. He’s still hesitant, since she had recently entered her first trimester, but he goes along anyway. Knowing how easily worried he gets when it comes to her and the baby, she has to sip quietly on a sprite for the duration of the ferry so that he doesn’t pick up on how nauseous it makes her.

Past that small blip, the second that Rooster sets their bags down in their townhouse she had booked and watches her slip her dress off of her shoulders, shimmy out of her underwear and head straight for the pool, he feels all of that stress start to dissipate.

He sits by the side of the pool, silently watching her swim with a small smile on his face. Thinking about how lucky he is, to finally have everything that he has ever wanted. That being said, his protective side can’t be tucked away for too long. After a while, he insists that she should get some time out of the sun, that she should rest a little. He’s easily talked into taking a nap with her. He hasn’t slept too much recently.

Within seconds of his head touching the pillow, he passes out with his arms around her, his palm resting protectively on her bare stomach.

Even in her third trimester, she still has the energy to tease him. He wakes up with her leaving dirty kisses along the bare skin of his stomach, raking her nails softly along his bare thighs. For the first time in months, he doesn’t have a million other projects to be taking up all the space in his mind. His mind is clear enough to just enjoy the feeling of her mouth on him.

They have time, all to themselves. Time for as many slow kisses as they can manage before their hands start to wander. Time to move between mouths between legs and teasing kisses along thighs. They have six more days, but that first afternoon feels like an eternity in the best way after how busy they have both been.

His hands on her skin, his mouth tracing everywhere he most enjoys to touch. As he sits back on his knees, he trails his palms along her rounded stomach, eyes flickering between her face and her bump. He’s been so wrapped up in what’s coming next that he hasn’t really taken time to appreciate what he has now. They only have another few months left with it just being the two of them.

As much as he’s excited for the future, he’ll always love this. Just the two of them, all the time that they want. He leans in, pressing a slow kiss to her mouth, telling her that he loves her, with six more days to show her exactly how much.

[psychopomparia]

[densi-mber]

A/N: Happy first day of Densimber to you all! As always, we begin with decoration day. Thanks to @mashmaiden for collaborating on this story.

***

Traditions Come and Go

“Baby, I told you I could get that,” Deeks said, hurrying towards Kensi as she toted a storage container of Christmas decorations through the house.

“It’s not that heavy,” Kensi insisted, shifting the box out of his reach as he attempted to take it. “You’ve been doing everything around here for weeks. Or at least attempting to. I can manage this.”

“I don’t want you to strain yourself.”

“Baby, I appreciate that, but just because I’m pregnant—”

“32 weeks pregnant,” Deeks interjected smoothly. Kensi sighed, accepting his point.

“Yes, I am. I can also squat with a 15 pound dumbbell in each hand,” she reminded him gently. “I don’t think this is going to strain me.”

“Ok, touché.” Deeks grinned self-deprecatingly. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok, I know you mean well.” She stretched to lean over the container and kiss him. “And who knows, in a couple weeks, I might change my mind and want you to do everything.”

“You just say the word,” he said, stealing another kiss.

***

Rosa arrived home just as they were unwrapping the now dozens of decorations they’d collected over the years. An entire bin is dedicated to various ornaments Roberta had passed down.

“Oh, I’m glad I didn’t miss everything,” Rosa sighed, hurrying to set her backpack and shoes to the side. She’d woken up early to pick out a tree with Kensi and Deeks before heading out for classes.

“Like we’d start without you,” Deeks scoffed. He patted the spot on the couch next to him. “Grab a seat and start unwrapping.”

“What is this?” Rosa asked, grimacing at a freshly revealed horse with pink hair and an oddly creepy expression.

“Grandma Deeks’ idea of a joke.”

“She said it was a family heirloom,” Kensi added.

“I don’t remember seeing it last year.” Rosa turned the ornament from side to side, seeming caught between interest and mild disgust.

“Yeah, that’s because we usually never, ever take it out,” Deeks explained. He took it from Rosa, tucking it back in with the rest of the unwanted and boring ornaments. “I’m thinking maybe this year it should meet with an unfortunate and tragic end. Do you think a fiery death is plausible?”

“Or we could just pass it on to our beloved oldest child,” Kensi suggested with mock innocence. “Keep the tradition going.”

“Oh, no thank you,” Rosa said quickly, raising her hands as she chuckled nervously. “I’m good. Though I wouldn’t say no to that aqua one over there.”

“That’s one of my—mmm.” Stopping mid-thought, Kensi rubbed a hand over her lower ribs, wincing for a few seconds.

“Was it croissant or donut this time?” Deeks asked.

“Donut, I think,” Kensi replied, arching her back. “I swear these kids are practicing for a soccer match with how much they kick.”

“Are you ok?” Rosa checked.

“Yeah, they’re getting stronger, but I’m fine. I guess they just wanted to join in on the fun.”

“But maybe hang out for a couple more weeks,” Deeks suggested, resting his hand over Kensi’s stomach.

“So, do you want to put the outside decorations up when we’re done here?” Rosa asked once they had lights strung around the tree.

“Actually, since things are going to be extra crazy this year with all the baby prep, we decided to just decorate inside this year,” Deeks explained.

“But you love Decoration Day.” While initially bemused by Deeks’ excitement last year on December 1st, Rosa had quickly been caught up in the general festivities and greatly enjoyed the entire premise.

“I do, but it’s only one year.” Deeks couldn’t deny he was a little disappointed at the thought of missing out on one of their traditions. He knew they’d barely notice though as everything picked up in the next few weeks.

“You know I’d help,” Rosa offered. “I can hold the ladder and even go on the roof if you want.”

“I really appreciate that, Rosalind, but you have your classes and finals to study for. It’ll be ok.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s not the first time it’s happened,” Kensi said. “The year we moved here, we were so busy packing and going to showings that we never got around to it.”

“Next year we’ll just have to do something extraordinary to make up for it,” Deeks suggested.

“Now, that worries me a little bit.” Not sounding worried in the least, Kensi pushed herself off the couch.

“Where are you going?”

“To get those Christmas cookies you guys made,” Kensi replied. “You should never decorate on an empty stomach.”

[indyfilmlibrary]

Legitime Defense (2021) – 2 stars

Duc has done better than Legitime Defense with previous entries to Indy Film Library, and he undoubtedly will do so again. #shortfilm #review #domesticabuse #survivor #godard #girlandagun

Director: Gustavo Duc Writer: Gustavo Duc Cast: Carolina Rodz, Daniel La Rosa Running time: 4mins Perhaps the most famous quote attributed to Jean-Luc Godard is, “All you need to make a movie is a girl and a gun.” But rather than some kind of cheat-code for thrilling filmmaking, Godard was probably saying completely the opposite. In its full context, Godard’s statement seems more like a…

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Hi Rae!! Congrats so much on the 1.5k!! Been a longtime fan of this blog and I'm always blown away by your works.

For the event can I ask for domestic life/married life headcannons? Or just hear you yap on how Jason and Arkham Knight Jason act in those situations? I personally think Jason would act as a doting, head over heels almost worshipping his darling spouse. Whereas Ak! Jason would kinda be the dark romance almost mafia archetype instead, but on the more quiet obsessive devotion and acts of service galore side with a dash of occasional bordering on if not yandere-ism because of his paranoia and being very overprotective but his spouse has a general idea of what their husband does.

Once again, congratulations and you deserve every follow and reblog and like.

- Rosa🧸🤎

Domestic Headcanons

Hi, thank you so much! Hope you enjoy!

Honestly, I could ramble about whether or not I think AK would ever get married, but it's not about that rn ~700 words

Jason

His favorite thing in the world is waking up next to you. Really, he doesn't think anything beats opening his eyes and seeing the morning sun glint off the metal bands around his and your ring finger. He'll ignore the growling in his stomach and the alarms about to go off for as long as he can, just for another moment to hold you in his arms, warm and tucked away from the world

Speaking of wedding rings, Jason is constantly twisting or fiddling with yours. It's mostly because he's just in awe that it's there, real and cool, and glittering on your finger. He likes to take the opportunity to tease you about buying a bigger rock, even if you tell him anything bigger would look ridiculous and just get you mugged. (He can handle a mugger– or five– so he doesn't think that should be an issue)

Nothing feels like a chore when he's doing it with you. Folding laundry to your favorite tv show, washing dishes while talking about everything and anything, making meals while your music fills the kitchen– he loves it all. Just being in your space, lingering in the mundane, day to day tasks feels special when he gets to see you smile and laugh at whatever joke he's made 

You share the same blanket when you're sitting on the couch, always. He made a point of buying the largest, softest one he could find in your favorite color, more or less for the excuse to have you close. Neither of you mind cuddling together, of course, but it's still an unspoken rule that if either of you comes to sit next to the other, you lift the blanket for them, even when you fight

Matching Fuzzy Socks for every occasion. Neither of you necessarily wear them out of the house, but when you're home and Gotham is cold, there are, in fact, heated debates and competitions over who gets to pick what set you're both going to wear that day. (Yes, his favorite pair are the Red Hood ones, and no, he doesn't think that says anything about his ego. They're just the fluffiest and therefore, the best) 

AK!Jason

The Arkham Knight comes from a crueler version of Gotham, but he is by no means cruel to you. There are nights where he's sharper, tensing at every noise and bump that sounds too close to your windows and doors, but it only serves to make him hold you closer, ever watchful for danger that could cause you harm– threats that would take you from him

He doesn't go out with you often, but he tries to make up for it in his own way. Public dates are rare, if they happen at all, but he doesn't hesitate to try and make you feel special when you do go out. Entire theaters are rented out in your name, museums and galleries are closed just so you can walk arm and arm through marbled halls without anyone else around 

When you're both together, he's always in your space, always finding an excuse to touch you. He only ever softens under your gaze, only ever feels at home when your hands hold his. He'll fixate on the ring you wear often. He likes pressing a kiss to the cold jewel that catches light so perfectly on your finger. It always feels so big, knowing you said yes, knowing you willingly tied yourself to him for eternity 

He constantly comes home with gifts– whether it be flowers, food, jewels, clothes, or trinkets– he rarely comes back empty handed. It's less out of a love language, but more out of a desire to show you he's worth being with. The Arkham Knight– before, during, and after he held the name– always has something to prove. But that doesn't mean the thanks you give, the kisses to his cheek and the smiles you offer, are any less special to him (or that his actions mean any less) 

He finds comfort in the long moments of silence. Don't get it wrong, he loves to listen to you talk, but there's something about just being in each other's presence without the need for words that soothes something fragmented deep in his soul. He likes to listen to you breathe, feel the rise and fall of your chest against him while he reads whatever book you're flipping through over your shoulder. Those are the only times he ever really feels peace anymore

[blues824]

Its 💗🌸 /Rosa / @toconolaw ^×^

Staff doing secret Santa with magic music arts teacher s/o! But some how teacher s/o's twk familiar which are chinchillas that gets a bit aggressive/ jealous!!

You requested: Secret Santa

The Wiki said Vargas is shorter than Sam 💀

Dire Crowley

The fact that you’re married to this man was mysterious enough. However, you had asked about a possible Secret Santa amongst the staff to add some more mystery to the pot. The rest of the staff members agreed, and so all your names were put into a hat, and you drew a name. You had gotten Professor Mozus Trein, and you immediately noted that you might want to go to a pet store to get some treats for Lucius.

One stipulation in this Secret Santa game was that you put a charm on the hat so that neither you nor your husband could choose each other. After all, you both knew each other quite well, so it would be cheating. After everyone drew their names, you immediately went to Sam’s shop with your chinchilla. If there was anyone who would have what you needed, it would be him.

You actually ran into Crowley there, and who his gift was for was rather obvious, as he was purchasing some protein powder. Once you had purchased everything you were going to, which included new inkwells and a crystal pen, along with catnip, your husband had extended his arm to you. You put your hand in the crook of his elbow, and your familiar hopped from your shoulder to his. It took years for the little animal to even let your husband touch you, but now it seems you both have to fight over him.

Leaning your head on his free shoulder, you spoke to him.

“I love you, Dire Crowley.”

Now, he had a bit of a quirk about him. He never says ‘I love you’ directly back. He says it’s ‘too simple’. Instead, he would say something poetic, and it made your heart flutter every single time.

“In the musical tapestry of our connection, your presence is a delicate arpeggio that dances through the notes of my heart, composing a ballad only the two of us can hear.”

With that you both kissed each other, starting to head back to his office, where the wrapping paper and ribbons that you needed for the gifts were.

Divus Crewel

Being wed to this man meant a life of elegance. He wouldn’t let you settle for anything less. That being said, you were also a professor at NRC, and since you were a staff member, you proposed in the staff meeting that you all do a Secret Santa of sorts. Crewel was all for it… until you put a spell on the hat that would prevent you and him from getting one another. You pulled Sam’s name, and you had to admit that you were completely stumped.

Luckily, your chinchilla has been around, and it learned Sam’s favorite food. That being said, you needed to go to the town below NRC to get the ingredients necessary to make the chicken gumbo that your friend loved so much. Your husband went with you, and a few people paused in the street upon seeing you both, such an elegant and beautiful couple, doing such domestic things… or maybe it was your familiar.

Now, once you got to the grocery store, you both separated so that you could get the things you both required. You had no idea who Divus had gotten, and he did not want you to know until the day you would give everyone their presents. In addition to all the stuff you purchased, you bought some dried fruit for your animal.

You both headed to your apartment, where you started making a huge pot of chicken gumbo. Your husband came up from behind you and put his hands on your hips, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“I love you, honey~” You sang softly, before starting to hum as you put all the chopped veggies into the big pot on the stove.

The chinchilla you grew to love climbed from your shoulder to his, and all the way to the top of his head.

“I love you too, darling,” He leaned down to place a kiss on your temple, but the chinchilla sitting on the top of his head pulled a strand of his hair.

He let out a yelp of pain before removing the animal and placing it back on your shoulder, where it was giving him a death glare that could probably kill a very weak human. He mumbled about how jealous the familiar got, and you just let out a laugh.

Ashton Vargas

To be this man’s spouse meant that you probably had a very active lifestyle, or you knew where to duck away to hide from his “couple’s workouts”. Luckily, your chinchilla often took your place.  Anyway, at the staff meeting, you proposed that you do a Secret Santa, and Vargas agreed with that idea. Even when you put a spell on the hat that prevented you from getting one another, it was fine. You pulled Divus Crewel’s name, and you had a few ideas that came to mind for your gift to him.

You had to go to town, however, and your husband did not like you going alone. He was a tad worried that something was going to happen to you, so you strolled down the street with your guard dog and guard chinchilla privileges. You decided to get Professor Crewel some gift cards for a new restaurant that has opened up recently. He told you that he was considering going, and maybe he could come back and tell you if the place is a good date location.

Ashton got Crowley, and so you both just went around town to see what he would like. Personally, you would have loved to give him a knuckle sandwich for pushing all of his responsibilities on one of your beloved students, who you viewed as your own children. However, you settled on getting him dumbbells, so maybe he would have a chance to catch the hands you’re going to throw.

Boarding the bus that would take you back to NRC, along with a bunch of students, the Coach that you happened to love pulled you onto his lap, surprising you. You were incredibly embarrassed as a few students started to whisper, but he wasn’t letting you go. Your chinchilla tried to bite him, but nothing came of it.

“Coach Vargas, if you don’t let me go right now, there will be consequences when we get home!” You exclaimed.

However, your husband broke out the puppy-dog eyes. A groan of annoyance made its way out of your mouth before you finally stopped struggling against him, and you resigned yourself to your fate.

“I love you, baby,” The mere amount of love in that sentence made you melt, placing a kiss on his cheek in response. A few nearby students, who you both taught, by the way, started ‘awwww’ing, making you even more embarrassed than before.

“Shush, you! Otherwise you all get detention and you have to help me grade assignments!” A smile was on your face as you made this threat, as you weren’t completely serious. This also made the students laugh, as well as your husband.

Mozus Trein

You two had grown close because of Lucius. Normally, Trein would never be interested in someone so young, as he was nearing the age of 60 and you were in your 30’s. However, your music lured his cat, and as you played the piano, Lucius plopped himself on your lap. A few years later, you were married, and you found yourself in the staff room during a meeting, and you proposed a Secret Santa so as to get into the holiday spirit. Names were drawn, and you had picked Coach Vargas.

Again, a few ideas came to mind on what you could get him, but a lot of them required you going to town. Your husband also had to go, so you decided to go together. Luckily for you, you were able to head to the fitness section and get what you needed. You also called into a high-end gym in the area and you asked if you could purchase a day-pass for a friend, and they let you..

Mozus headed to the stationery section of the store, and you had two guesses on the names he picked out. Your chinchilla was chilling on your shoulder as you made it through checkout, texting your husband to meet you in the square once he was finished. You then headed to the meeting location, enjoying the scenery and the different people that were in the town.

It didn’t take long for him to meet you there, and he also got some other stuff for when you both headed back home for the holidays. You had another Secret Santa thing going on with your step-daughters and your sons-in-law. The older professor took the animal from your shoulder and placed it on his as he held his hand out to you to help you off the bench.

“What a gentleman~ Thank you, darling.” You said as you stood. He lifted your hand to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckle.

“It would be wrong to teach our students to be something that I’m not,” You both started walking to the bus that would take you back to NRC.

“I love you, Mozus Trein,” You said.

“I love you, too, Y/N Trein,” He answered, a hint of a smile on his face as you place a kiss on his cheek and go to board the bus.

Sam

You were not married to Sam… yet. It all felt like a fever dream, as he had proposed to you in the most casual way possible. You both had met at the first staff meeting, where he kept writing on the corners of your notes. However, your chinchilla was not exactly happy about how you both kept giggling with another, and it even bit one of his fingers. Time skip to now, where you had an engagement ring on your finger, your chinchilla is on his shoulder, and you proposed a Secret Santa amongst the staff.

From the hat, you pulled out the name of the Headmage. Sam could see the anger in your eyes, and he was snickering because he already guessed who you got. You looked like the only thing you wanted to give Crowley was a large stick up his derrière, and that just made him burst out into laughter. He himself pulled Crewel’s name, and his friends on the other side had a few gift ideas.

Anyway, you both headed into town and walked around, window shopping. It was like a moment in a Hallmark Christmas movie, where you both kind of dance around each other, laughing and not taking anything seriously. Even though you were yet to be officially married, you were in a honeymoon phase. Well, you were always in a honeymoon phase because Sam never let the romance die out.

To get back to the Secret Santa shopping, you purchased a calendar for the next year. It wasn’t anything special. You also bought some pens, muttering about how the old crow was lucky you weren’t going to shove them down his throat. Your fiancé just laughed it off and got some gift cards for Professor Crewel. 

“Are you ready, my imp?” He asked after you checked out, holding his hand out to you.

“I wish this didn’t have to end… I love finally being able to spend time with you, love.”

“Who said we were going to go back just yet? I’m not quite done with you either…” He placed a kiss on your lips, and you felt a pressure around you that you knew wasn’t coming from Sam, but rather his shadow.

“You’re not the only one, apparently,” You giggled.

[justplainwhump]

Laundry Room

At Rosa's first Christmas at her owners' house, she and Blanca are alone together.

A prequel to Pet Safety.

Content : BBU, implied conditioning, nudity, self-harm (due to conditioning), burns. Caretaking. Falling in love. F/f romance. Kissing.

Rosa's Sir and Madam spend Christmas with Madam's family in their beach house. Pets aren't allowed, Madam has said with a frown directed at Blanca. Since "the incident". The term makes Blanca's neck stiffen, Madam's jaw clench, and Sir roll his eyes. And Rosa? She doesn't know. Is not included in the dynamics that work under the surface.

It makes sense in a way, that the Romantic has intimate knowledge that the Domestic doesn't, Rosa tells herself. Blanca is special. Rosa isn't.

Rosa knows how to cook all the meals her owners like, how to set the table, clean the glasses, arrange the clothes, make the beds. She's a good pet. That's all she needs. All she ever wanted. All that a pet is meant to be.

So good, that it even confused her, when Master Cory took one of the containers of food carefully prepared by Rosa in days and nights of work out of the trunk and sneaked it back to Blanca. "For the holiday. Don't forget me, beautiful. Merry Christmas," he'd whispered into her hair, and Blanca had smiled at him so wide that the aberrant feelings hit Rosa right in the gut.

Nobody had spared a glance at her.

It's an aberrant feeling, being left out. Domestics don't feel lonely, they don't feel sad, they don't feel jealous, they don't feel sorry. They don't have friends. They function. That's all they do.

And Rosa affirms herself that she does. She's a good and functioning Domestic.

As such, she's walked down into the basement right after her owners have left, pulling the doors close behind her. She doesn't need to see Blanca smile as she waves past the car. There's a place for Blanca, and there's a place for Rosa, and they do not overlap.

-

Rosa is still ironing clothes in the utility room a while later, when Blanca strolls in. There's an easy sway to Blanca's hips, an elegance to her movements that seems unfitting for an environment like the packed, practical laundry room that smells like labor and detergent.

She's still naked, like Madam insists for her to be in the house, but even though Rosa understands it's meant to be a reminder of her lowly position, Blanca seems more regal than anyone else Rosa had ever seen.

She swallows. She isn't supposed to think that. She isn't supposed to look at Blanca's body, at her soft skin, at the beautiful curves of her hips and breasts - or at least she isn't meant to see it as anything else than a surface that is meant to be kept clean, just as are all her owners' other possessions.

Rosa focuses on the sheet in front of her, scanning it's pristine white for any creases to distract herself from any aberrant thoughts.

"You shouldn't be here," she says briskly.

Undeterred, Blanca leans in over the laundry hamper, her body a perfect curve, as she fishes for one of Master Cory's worn shirts. Rosa fixates her gaze on her own hand around the iron.

From the corner of her eyes, she sees Blanca bury her face in the shirt, take in their owner's smell.

"Why?" Blanca asks.

Rosa blinks. "Why what?"

"Why aren't I supposed to be here?"

"You're not a Domestic."

"True. I'm a Romantic. I'm supposed to be with my Master." She slips into the shirt, wraps it closely around her and shakes her hair free over the collar. "He's not here. He doesn't want me with him. So where am I supposed to be now?" There's a sadness clinging to her voice that almost stings in Rosa's heart. It doesn't. It mustn't. She has to keep things in order.

"Madam doesn't want you dressed in the house."

Blanca shrugs and pulls herself up to sit on the washing machine, crosses her long, smooth legs. Rosa feels dizzy. "And Sir likes it when I wear his clothes."

"Sir left," Rosa says, sharper than intended. Blanca shouldn't be here. They shouldn't be talking. It makes Rosa slower, less focused. It makes her a bad pet.

"So did Madam. It's just us." Blanca shrugs, leans forward, pauses, as if waiting for Rosa to meet her gaze.

Unwillingly, Rosa puts the iron down and does.

Blanca's eyes are grey. Sometimes the grey is light and shimmering, chrome and steel. Today, they're dark. Like a storm, Rosa thinks. A storm that carries away anything in its path.

"So the question should be: How would you like me, Rosa?"

On my face. The thought shoots through her, bright and short and sharp and cruel, like a lightning bolt.

Pain follows instantly. Punishment. A scream. Hers? Blanca's? Both?

The world turns black.

-

When she comes to, she's laying on the ground, bedded on crumpled laundry. Everything is cold. Her entire left sidethrobs with heavy pain, radiating from her forearm. Blanca's fingers run over it, slick with some sort of paste, carefully coating bright red blisters shaped like an iron, surrounding spots of white and black. Rosa's stomach lurches.

Bad pet, she thinks. Bad pets deserve punishment.

"Please," she whispers. "I'm bad."

"I cooled the wound for fifteen minutes," Blanca says. "You were unconscious. I called Sir. He says you'll be fine."

"Bad," Rosa whispers. "I was bad. I was... Madam will -"

"Sir won't tell her."

"Sir won't-" Rosa stares at Blanca. Her grey eyes are narrow in concentration, as she gently rubs in the salve. Spears of pain drill into Rosa's body. She doesn't flinch. "Why?"

"I begged him." Blanca's lips twist. "He likes that. I made him come over the phone."

"But I was -"

"I told him it was an accident. That I don't want Madam to hurt you for it." She smiles down at Rosa. "That if it needs to be, he can hurt me instead. It's okay. He's not cruel."

Rosa swallows. Master Cory is cruel. But they both know what Blanca meant. Madam is more cruel. So much more. "I deserve it." Rosa shivers. "I was a bad pet."

"I lied to Sir. It wasn't an accident." Blanca reaches for the bright orange first aid kit next to her. Her hair tingles on Rosa's skin. "You burned yourself. Why?"

Rosa clenches her jaw, refusing to answer the question. Focus on the pain. Not on the flutter in her stomach. "You can't lie to Sir."

"I can." Blanca smirks, as she places a bandage over the burn and begins to wrap in in place with gauze. "I love him. I belong to him. I'm made for him. But I lie to him all the time."

Rosa winces the tiniest bit, when Blanca knots the ends of the bandage. "Pets can't -"

"I tell him that I like his wife. That I like his friends. I tell him that every fuck is great, even the quick ones on the backseat of his car. I tell him that I don't mind pain." She bites her lip. "I tell him that he's the only one I could ever love."

"But..." Rosa's throat is dry. "That's... not a lie, right? Pets can't -"

Blanca leans in. She's not fidgeting for the first aid kit this time, Rosa realizes. She's leaning over Rosa, one leg nestled between hers. The white shirt is falling open from her shoulders, her beautiful breasts in front of Rosa, her hair on Rosa's neck, her breath hot on her skin.

"I can," Blanca whispers. "And I think you can, too."

Rosa's lips part, as her good hand reaches up into Blanca's hair.

Bad pet, a soft voice echoes somewhere in her mind. But then her fingers curl up in Blanca's soft hair and all voices and all pain are swept away by the storm that erupts when Blanca's lips meet hers.

[igetthedisneybox]

Extended Encanto Family Trees

I made families for Alma, Pedro, Augustín, Félix, and Mariano from some background characters and concept art. Based on @hannahhook7744's version, here

Pedro's Family:

These are Pedro's parents, Josefa "Mariposa" Madrigal, and Jorge Bravo.

Mariposa was nicknamed for her lighthearted attitude, colorful hair, and graceful body language. She was also incredibly free-spirited, and wanted to walk her own path. She believed heavily in magic and miracles, as well as the belief that good things happen to good people.

Jorge was a bit of a coward, who disliked conflict. He was also incredibly superstitious, and spent the rest of his life as a paranoid shut-in after Pedro's birth.

Jorge was a handy man, who specialized in construction work, while Mariposa was an orphan, who worked for the church that raised her. Pedro was born out of wedlock, which was a huge no-no back then. Mariposa and Jorge were both freshly adults, and spent a passionate night together, which resulted in Pedro. Jorge fled not only Mariposa, but the whole village when he found out that she was pregnant.

Due to the circumstances of his conception, and to avoid tarnishing her reputation, Mariposa raised Pedro in the church with the help of the nuns, in secret. The story was that Pedro was an orphan, and Mariposa was helping to take care of him.

Despite this, Mariposa loved Pedro unconditionally, and imparted an important belief onto him: Love is magic, which is how the Miracle happens later: from love.

She ends up dying when Pedro is just thirteen years old, from an unspecified illness.

Luckily, at that time, Pedro had learned enough skills to support himself, and his "aunts" the nuns, helped him along as well, until he met Alma, when he was nineteen.

Jorge lived a lot longer, only dying a few years before Mirabel was born, from a heart attack. He fled to the city, and spent the rest of his life as a shut in, never leaving his house, for fear that he would be crushed for his sins.

Pepa gets both her looks, and her name from her Abuela (Pepa is a short form of Josefa).

Alma's Family:

Alma's family is rather large, so I split it up into four parts. First are her parents, Avila Romero and Hernando Cadenza, her twin brother, Raimi, and Raimi's wife, Rosa Peña.

Avila and Hernando had lived in the village their entire lives, and had been planning to get married even when they were children. They both were very traditional, and raised Raimi and Alma to be so as well. They were extremely strict and no-nonsense, especially to Alma, because as a girl, she would be expected to behave differently than Raimi.

Despite this strictness, the twins never felt unloved or unwanted. Hernando had a soft spot for Alma especially, and would let her get away with "un-ladylike" things when Avila was out.

(Side tangent: This is partially why Alma acts the way she does in the film. She always just assumed her family knew she loved them, even when she was being awful to them, because she knew her own parents loved her when they were being strict/unfair. She really needed to learn to communicate her love to her family better, since her behavior towards them was far more egregious than her own parents' was.)

Hernando died when Alma and Raimi were sixteen, when he got into an altercation with a man who would eventually become one of the raiders later on.

Avila died only a few months later, from "a broken heart", really just a bout of depression leading to her dying of malnutrition from not eating.

After their parent's deaths, the twins needed to earn a living for themselves. Raimi joined a group of men traveling to the city for work, where he met Rosa Peña and her family (who I will get back to,) and started working at their inn, sending the majority of his earnings back home to Alma.

Alma meanwhile, did domestic jobs around the village as supplemental income, and at age eighteen, met and fell for Pedro, getting married and having the triplets when she was nineteen.

Raimi and Alma sent each other letters religiously for three years after their separation, but they started to drift apart as they grew their own families, which is why Alma never tried to contact the city after the Encanto was born. She figured Raimi would be better off without her.

The last letter Raimi ever got from his sister was the announcement of her pregnancy. Then, he heard about the attack on the village, and the thousands of people who went missing, including his twin and her husband.

He mourned, but had to move on, for the sake of his wife and sons.

Alma's family part two, mainly focusing on Raimi and the Peñas.

So, the Peña family has a bit of an issue: they're cursed with luck. Both good, and bad.

There are two Peña children born each generation. One is blessed with extreme good luck, and the other, extreme bad luck.

Rosa, Raimi's wife, is the good luck child. She's had fifteen near death experiences, but has always come out unscathed. Her baby brother Benito on the other hand...he's the bad luck one. Nothing ever goes right for this poor guy. (more on him later)

Rosa and Raimi married when he was eighteen and she was twenty, and their son, Erasmo, was born soon after. Erasmo is the good luck child, and is jovial, kind, and kinda quirky.

Five years later, Enrique, their second son, was born. He's the bad luck child, and is shy, withdrawn, and...still quirky, honestly. He and Bruno get along very well when they meet.

Erasmo fell in love with and married resident daredevil Carolina "fuck gender norms" De La Cruz (no relation to Coco), and they had their own kids, Matteo (good luck) and Yésica (bad luck).

Matteo grew up completely spoiled and somehow ended up as kind of a dick. Yésica on the other hand is kind, but stern. She knows accidents can happen to even the luckiest, and takes every day with optimistic caution.

Matteo met and married Reina Estrada, the spoiled heiress of a dress making company getting big quick. Their marige is strained by arguments and disagreements, because of how similar they were.

They had three daughters: Inés, the good luck child, and Juno and Julia, bad luck twins. Because they're twins, the bad luck is shared between them, so Juno and Julia don't feel the affects of it too bad.

Inés is the perfect golden child. She is beautiful, spoiled, and a typical "mean girl." She's incredibly jelous of the Madrigals and their gifts.

Juno and Julia are troublemakers, even outside of their inherit bad luck. They enjoy causing mischief, and so get along with the younger Madrigal cousins.

Benito meanwhile, never married or had any children, until he found an abandonded baby on the roof of the inn one day. He named her Faustina, and hoped that she would inherit the good luck gene. She did not, but she also doesn't really care? She's cheerful, despite her bad luck, and always looks on the sunny side.

Augustín's Family:

Here are Augustín's parents, Valentína Huerta and Wilmar Rojas.

Valentína is soft and sweet, and loves her family very much. (Mirabel is her favorite, don't @ her.) She finds strength in kindness and understanding, and takes forgiveness very seriously.

Wilmar on the other hand is a brick wall. He's fast and hard in his decisions, and it's near impossible to change his mind. He's opinionated, and while he loves and protects his family fiercely, he can be offputting at times. (He's basically your average republican grandpa)

Valentína and Wilmar came to the village from the city on the day of the attack. They barely stepped foot in the village before it was being evacuated.

At first, not a lot of people from the village trusted them, but Wilmar proved their worth by helping make all of the houses for the villagers.

Wilmar's passion was sport hunting, and so he has many dead stuffed creatures on display in his home, which were brought to life many years later by his granddaughter, Zoe.

Félix's Family:

These are Félix's parents, Maura Montoya and Fernando Castillo, and his much younger brother, Gabriel.

Maura is from the Caribbean, and is a calm and patient woman (she has to be, with sons like the ones she has), but isn't afraid to stand up for her own morals and desires.

Fernando is an upstanding guy, who is prone to turn everything into a joke. He has a taste for the finer things in life, and has a small jewelry collection.

Fernando lived in the village his whole life, and Maura moved in a few years before the raid. They got married and had Félix two years before.

Gabriel was born almost sixteen years after Félix, and is very curious about everything. He likes to push the limits of the rules (and Maura's patience) just for fun, and wants to adventure outside of the Encanto.

Mariano's Family:

In a tweet, Jarred Bush said that Mariano was meant to have a large family, and each member was to be a foil of a Madrigal cousin (except Mirabel, who would be represented by a goat). I took that idea and ran with it.

I named his mother Abigaíl. She and her husband were among the Encanto's founders, and thought they couldn't have children, which is why Abigaíl is so much older than the triplets, who have children of a similar age. Mariano's father wasn't the best man, and emotionally--then physically--abused Abigaíl and her nieces and nephews. Once she got pregnant and found the courage to leave him, he was imprisioned for the crime of abuse, before he took his own life.

Abigaíl is also responsible for her brother's children. Her brother and his wife both died climbing the mountains, trying to leave the Encanto. Her nieces are Isidora, Débora, and Lucía. Her nephews are Camino and Angelino. Camino is also married to a woman named Marcela.

Isidora is the opposite of Isabela: level headed, traditional, romantic, basically Isa's "señorita perfecta" persona, but as an actual person.

Débora is the opposite of Dolores: loud, opinionated, unromantic, stubborn, unobservant, etc etc.

Lucía is the opposite of Luisa: lazy, uncaring, selfish, vain, etc etc.

Camino is the opposite of Camilo: serious, hardworking, stern, etc etc.

Angelino is the opposite of Antonio: older, kind of mean, scared of animals, etc etc.

Marcela is also there. She and Camino have twins, Adelmo and Adela, who like to play in Pepa's clouds.

[creptolli]

Alex Keller domestic headcanons !

My cutie patootie

CW: mostly fluff, some NSFW (only short description, marked with ‘Alex Keller’ in pink colour) - Only one point contains an AFAB reader. The rest are GN Reader.

A/N: I was watching Brooklyn 99 while writing this… so a lot of references to it lmao (also my favourites are Rosa, Jake and Gina)

Alex Keller who 100% snuggles up with you and watches Brooklyn 99. Your head is resting on his arm as he holds your phone in your bed and spoons you, his head laid in the crook of your neck so he can watch with you. (His favourite character is Jake or Terry)

Alex Keller who shifts position to you sitting on his thigh where your head is comfortably placed on his chest while watching. All so he can rub his fingers along your clit, vibrating every so often when either of you laugh.

Alex Keller who lays on top of your chest, his arms wrapped around your shoulders - his entire body weight acting as some sort of therapy blanket when wanting attention. Every so often, you feel him taking nips through your shirt.

Alex Keller who literally nuzzles you, tickling you with his fluffy facial hair causing you to let out that adorable giggle he loves so much.

Alex Keller who drags you back into him when you try and get up in the morning. When he’s not on duty he relishes staying in bed (with you).

More will likely be added..

[supernaturalgirl20]

I always come to your inbox to drop idea for kicking your imagination so I was thinking about Javi P. Especially him saying he resigned form DIA that morning and can you imagine him immediately getting kiss cuz “that’s the hottest thing you ever said to me babe” because they can finally start they dream - having family at his pops ranch. Chucho seems like the best father in law. I want this man as a bestie for Javis girl

Thanks nonnie for this request. I’m sorry it took so long 🥰

Forever Starts Today

Pairings: Javier Pena x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, breeding kink, shower sex, soft morning sex, javi is a cowboy, just horny/domestic Javi, mentions of starting a family, cursing, fluff.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

A tired yawn slips past your lips as you lift Rosa’s file, checking what medication she’s due when a soft knock at her door startles you. 

“Girl, your man is at the nurse's station looking for you.” Your eyes flick towards the clock - 7:30, half an hour left - before meeting Maria’s gaze and nodding as she takes the clipboard off you. 

“Seems a bit on edge. If you wanna head out early, I’ll cover for you.” 

“Thanks,” you say with a smile as you walk out of the room. It doesn’t take long to spot Javi,  leaning against the wall with his legs crossed. His suit is a little wrinkled and his tie is loose around his neck. He lets out a frustrated sigh as his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose and you know he’s stressed. 

“Hey,” you call softly and he smiles when he locks eyes with you but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Hermosa.” He pushes off the wall and walks with determination towards you, pulling you into a tight embrace. With his face buried into the crook of your neck, he lets out a contented sigh. 

“Everything ok?” His arms, which are circled around your waist, pull you closer. “It is now”, he whispers, his breath tickling the skin of your neck. 

“Maria’s gonna cover for me. Why don’t we head home?” He hums softly, kissing your neck before pulling away. His tired eyes take you in and he leans in and kisses you gently on the lips before taking your hand in his and leading you out of the hospital. 

He doesn’t say much other than to ask you how your shift went and the drive home seems longer than usual. When you both finally cross the threshold of your home, Javi is quick to throw his keys on the kitchen counter before grabbing a glass and filling it with whiskey. 

“Bad day, huh?” His gaze meets yours and he lets out a long sigh. “Something like that. Amor, there’s something - fuck - maybe you should sit.”

He places his hand on the small of your back and leads you to the couch. Taking a seat beside him, you rest your hand on his thigh as he leans back, resting his head against the back of the couch. 

“What’s wrong, Javi? You know you can tell me anything, right?” His eyes open and his tired gaze lands on you as a soft smile edges its way onto his face. “I know, amor. I, fuck - I resigned from the DEA.” 

You’re stunned into silence. 

He resigned. You never thought you’d see the day. Your lack of response has him on edge and he reaches out and caresses your cheek softly with his thumb. “Hermosa, say something.” 

Broken from your trance, you let out a squeal as you move your legs over his lap so you're straddling his thighs. Grabbing his face between your hands you pepper kisses along his cheeks and lips. 

“You’re - you’re not mad?” He questions with a smile. Shaking your head you lean in and kiss him hard on the lips before pulling away and resting your head against his. 

“Baby, this is the best news ever. It’s like - the hottest things you’ve ever said to me.” Javi laughs. His head is buried between the curve of your breast as his shoulders shake from the force of it. You haven’t seen him laugh like that in a while. 

“What?” You ask with a smile. His eyes meet yours and he gently reaches out to move a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “It’s not the hottest.”

“Oh no, it is.” He continues to laugh as he wraps his around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “So, what now?”

“It’s up to you, amor. We can stay….” You cut him off with a shake of your head. “Let’s go home. To America. To Laredo. I’m sure Chucho will be thrilled to have us back.”

Javi’s heart flutters at your words. His face is full of love and adoration as he looks up at you in his arms. “Yeah? Is that what you want, Hermosa?” Want to settle down back on the ranch and have a family?”

“Yes. That’s what I want.” You rest your head against him, his brown eyes are full of warmth as they stare back. 

“Thank you, mi amor,” he whispers and you furrow your brows in confusion. “For what, Javi?”

“For being so understanding. I was - fuck, I was nervous as hell on the way to the hospital thinking you’d be upset I left my job. Lost all that good money and….” You quiet him with a finger on his lips. 

“You don’t have to thank me. You’re my husband and I love you. I’m always gonna support you. No matter what.”

“Te amo, mi amor.” He pulls you in for a searing kiss before gently laying you back on the couch, his body covering yours as he begins to strip you out of your clothes. 

“Let’s say goodbye to the apartment Pena style,” he murmurs as he kisses his way down along the curve of your breast, disappearing between the apex of your thighs. “Oh!”

***

You didn’t accept the transfer the hospital was offering you, instead choosing to work at a local health clinic near the ranch. The hours were better allowing you to spend more time with both Pena men. 

It was a nice change of pace and Javi was a different man now that he wasn’t always looking over his shoulder. He took to ranch life better than you had hoped and he seemed happier. 

Pulling up the long drive to the house you spot Javi in the distance on his horse Cash and the sight of him - dressed in his dark denim jeans, chequered shirt and that damn cowboy hat - has heat pooling between your legs. 

When you pull up at the house you dash inside and up the stairs to your en-suite, stripping out of your scrubs and into the large walk-in shower. The warm water relieves the ache in your muscles but does little to quell your growing arousal. 

With a featherlight touch, you skim your fingers along the skin of your stomach until you reach your bundle of nerves. You begin to rub in a slow circular motion, a soft gasp escaping your lips. 

“Starting the fun without me, Hermosa?” Javi’s deep drawl startles you and you almost slip when his warm hands catch you around the waist, pulling your back flush with his chest. His bare chest. “Jesus, Javi. You scared the shot outta me.” 

His soft chuckle makes you smile and you slowly turn in his embrace, eyes quickly taking him in before you meet his gaze. “How’d you get here so fast?” 

His eyes, which are blown wide with lust, arch playfully. “Saw you coming up the drive and started heading back. Knew you’d get all wet seeing me dressed like that.” 

“Oh, so you did that purposely, huh?” You tease, feeling his cock twitch against your thigh. 

“Better believe it, amor.” His lips meet yours in a passionate kiss as his fingers skim down along your ass, squeezing the soft cheeks in his hands. 

“Tan hermosa mi amor,” he mumbles as lips trail kisses along your neck towards your breasts, pulling a nipple into his mouth. “Oh fuck, Javi. Please I - I need you.” 

“What do you need, mi amor?” He asks as he pushes you back against the tiled wall, lifting your leg over his waist as he lines himself with your entrance. “Need you to fuck me, Javi.”

With a roll of his hips, he buries himself inside your heat, the slight stretch causing you to gasp into his mouth. “Mierda. Always so tight, amor.” 

With each roll of his hips, he brings you closer and closer to euphoria. “Need you to cum for me, amor. Not - not gonna last. Been thinking about this all day.”

His hands are busy gripping you tight as he thrusts harder and harder, so you slip your hand into the space between you both, sliding your fingers to your bundle of nerves and putting pressure on it as you rub it in circular motions. 

“Javi,” you whimper and he grunts loudly as you squeeze him tight. “Fuck, Hermosa…I’m - I’m shit, I’m gonna cum.” 

“Cum inside,” you whisper into the shell of his ear and he groans. “Want me to fill you up, Hermosa? Want me to put a baby in you? Fuck, I’m gonna fill you full of me.” 

“Oh god, Javi,” you cry and Javi’s legs shake slightly as he thrusts twice more, spilling deep inside you. 

You’re both panting as you come down from your high and Javi helps you gently stand on two feet before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. 

“Missed you today,” you say softly as you begin to lather soap over his chest. He hums. His hands work the soap into your soft skin. “Never would have guessed that,” he teases and you slap him gently on the chest. 

“I’m just joking, Hermosa. I missed you too. Always do.” He kisses you softly. “Were you serious about having a baby?” He seems nervous as he waits for you to say something and you can’t help but smile. 

“Only if you want to? But I’m ready.” His hands hold your waist and the corners of his mouth turn up. “I guess we’re gonna try for a baby then. Pops is gonna be delighted.”

“Wooh, slow down there cowboy. I’m not even pregnant yet.” Javi reaches behind you to turn the water off before grabbing two towels and handing you one. “Amor, with the way we fuck, it’s not gonna take that long.” 

You roll your eyes as you begin to dry off, hoping it’s as easy as he makes it out. “Come on, cowboy. We gotta get ready for Frankie’s engagement party.”

***

“You know, I never thought I’d see the day Javi would settle down. Especially back home on the ranch but I’ve honestly never seen him so happy.” Frankie swings you away from him before pulling you back into his embrace. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to him, Y/N.” A heat works its way up your neck and settles on your cheeks. 

“I think you’re giving me too much credit, but thank you.” The music shifts to something slower and Frankie’s gaze lingers over your shoulder. 

“Mind if I cut in?” You can feel his warmth at your back and Frankie winks at you before clapping Javi on the back and whispering something into his ear. 

“Hey,” he says softly, his eyes taking in the features of your face. His arms circle your waist as you both sway to the music. 

“Hey. Who’s the woman with Chucho?” You ask as you tilt your head in his direction. Javi’s gaze lands on his dad and a knowing smile works its way onto his face. With a shrug of his shoulders, he turns back to you. 

“Someone he met at bingo. Just friends. But then, we both know how that one goes, don’t weHermosa?” He waggles his eyebrows at you. 

“Oh shut it, Pena. Didn’t hear you complaining at the time, did I?” He yelps as you squeeze his ass. 

“Nope. Never gonna hear me complain, baby,” he teases. “It’s nice to see him have someone after so long. He deserves to be happy.”

“Hmm, seems all you Pena men share the same sentiment.” He furrows his brows, “what are you talking about, amor.”

“Nothing, baby. Think anyone would miss us if we skip out?” His hands wander towards your ass, squeezing it gently. “It’s like you read my mind, Hermosa.” His eyes flicker around the room before landing back on your face. “Let’s go.”

He wraps your hand in his and leads you out of the community centre and into the cool evening air. Javi helps you into the passenger side of the truck before running around to his side and hopping in. 

“What about Chucho?” Javi turns the key in the ignition and reverses out of the space, his eyes landing on you as he straightens her up. “Something tells me he won’t be needing a lift home tonight.”

“Why - oh - oh, Jesus Javi, he’s an old man.” He laughs, his gaze focused on the road ahead but his hand - the one not on the steering wheel - slides up your thigh and under your dress. 

“Never too old for that baby. Especially not us Pena men.” His fingers slip through your folds and you moan softly. “Javi?”

“Si, Hermosa?” His gaze drifts to you briefly, a cheeky smile on his face. “Drive faster and I’ll give you a blow job back home.”

“Yup.” His fingers slip away from you and he focuses all his attention on the road, driving way past the speed limit. 

***

The light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Your skin tickles as Javi kisses your shoulder. You smile.

“Morning.” His arm slips around your waist, sliding up until he cups your breast in his hand.

“Hmm, morningHermosa. Need you,” he breathes, his voice husky with need. Javi grinds his hips into your ass and you can feel his arousal pressing hard against you. 

“Didn’t get enough last night?” Javi lines himself up with your entrance and breaths out a husky no, before thrusting into you. 

He’s slow in his movements, drawing out your pleasure as you rock back against him. The room is silent save for the soft gasps and moans you both emit. 

When you both climax together, he stays seated inside you as he peppers kisses along your neck. “Let’s get cleaned up, amor. I’ve something I want to show you”.

He waits out front on the porch and when you emerge in a light summer dress he can’t help but pull you close and kiss you breathlessly. 

“You’re killing me, mi amor. Come on, let's go.” He leads you to the truck, helping you in before taking off and you turn to him with a look of confusion when he doesn’t turn down the drive, but instead, makes his way up the old road towards his uncle's old ranch. 

“Javi? Where - where are we going?” He reaches out and takes your hand in his, lifting it to his lips and kissing it softly. “Just wait, amor. You’ll see.”

“Fine, keep your secrets, Pena. It’s not like I won’t….” The words die on your tongue when you see the once run-down house now refurbished. “Javi!” 

“I know we’re happy with pops but I thought with us trying for a family that - that maybe we should have a place of our own. Pops and Frankie helped me out with it. I - I hope you like it, amor.” 

“Javi. Like it. I love it. I - I can’t believe you did this.” Your voice wavers as your eyes well with tears. “And we’re not too far from Chucho if he needs us. It’s perfect.” 

You move across the seat and kiss him passionately. Pulling away with one last kiss you smile brightly at him. “Can I see inside?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled back. “Of course. Let’s go home.”

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade @avengersfan25 @angstismydrug @mydailyhyperfixations @everythingfan @pedrosbum @ryangoslingstanktop

[1millionsafeworkinghours]

'Knock Knock' curated by Felix Choong, an exhibition of fashion continuing Peter Galassi’s exploration of the home in 'Pleasures and Terrors of Domestic Comfort' held at MoMA in 1991. Featuring 1000Morceaux, Cha Myung, Comme Des Garçons, Gui Rosa, Issey Miyake, James Walsh, Junya Watanabe, Miss Corpus, Per Gotesson, Rebecca Jeffs, Sheryn Akiki, VeniceW and Vivienne Westwood.

The exhibition is catalogued in Nice Outfit #2 available here.

[deppye]

As you navigate the coldly lit corridors of your lonely hab unit, the omniscent clank and clatter of metallic cooking implements that had roused you from your slumber becomes ever louder. You round a corner. Your kitchen is now in view - whatever is disturbing the interior still very much inside. You come to a halt at the door. Whatever is rumaging inside continues it's infernal crockery-based ruckus.

CANNINESS [Medium: Failure] - you've got the perp hook line and sinker, as the terrans say, old girl. Now quickly - burst through, release an unholy screech that even the everbloom will feel, and petrify the dirt pile that dares disturb your sacred domain.

SENSIBILITY [Medium: Success] - No, wait. Don't do that. You're not one of those weirdo oldblooms with more vines than eyes and about two times as sadistic. Your modest. Composed. A friendly 'ffini that all the other 'ffini and 'florts wave at on the street. Compose yourself. Open the door slowly. Assure whatever or whomever is inside that you mean no harm. We can take it from there.

1. "Hello? Is anyone in there?"

2. Bide your time, form a plan of action.

3. Open the door gingerly. So as to not draw attention quickly.

4. [Worldly presence - Trivial 6] An intruder? In YOUR hab? Not if you have anything to say about it! Full throttle through the door, baby. No balls or breaks, Let's do this!

HIGH

95%

+ 1 reinforced core for hab defense

+ 1 Read Rosa Chenensis's "The art of domestication"

- 1 tired

This is a red check, it cannot be retried

[5 - 4]

CHECK SUCCESS

You barge through your kitchen door like a menacingly overfed beeple beelining for the airplane spoon. Vines poised to grab and grapple and hunched in a way to make yourself more... menacing. The interloper freezes solid as one of your vines reaches for the light switch.

"Ah ha!" You state. With smug confidence. "Thought you could pillage my kitchen in the middle of the night and get away with it could yo-" Gasp

BLEEDING CORE - oh stars, the kitchen, it's- it's-

MIND'S GEM [Easy: success] - A vast and unknown wreckage. On the floor between raised kitchen appliances bowls and dishes lay strewn like cracks in the landscape. By your sink you see corporal syrup: His cork popped open with careless regard as he bleeds his sugary innards into your sink. Private flour dusts sergeant chocolate sprinkles on the cutting board table, the poor bag is gutted like a fish, dusting his comrade with dry whiteness. General baking soda has been torn apart as though by the hands of rabid dogs. Splattered across the entire room like the lair of a trashy terran slasher film villain. You count enumorous other causalties across the battlefield, but none so terrible as that of gunnery sergeant batter - his mass split between the bowl, a spoon, and the mouth of the terran woman right in the middle of this slaughter - this was no kitchen battle. This was a kitchen MASSACRE.

The terran woman is frozen solid looking at you. Still holding the combined contents of your baking cabinet in her mouth.

SCRUTINY [Hard: failure] - No form, no manners, she dosen't even have the decency to look perturbed or put the bowl down! Do they teach terrans anything these days?

DOMINANCE [Easy: Success] - Look at this sopping wet feline of biomass. She dosen't even look scared about you, she looks annoyed that she got caught. You know what we do with disobedient pets like that? You should bring out the fun stuff and REALLY Let her know who's cake batter she's eating.

BIOLOGICAL IMPERATIVE [Hard: failure] - Hold on, let's not be too brash. Sit down first. Diffuse the situation. Maybe get to know her a little bit. Be polite about it. *then* rail her brains out until she's begging to be fed your delicious cake batter from your vines.

XENOCOMPABILITY [Easy: success] - Class A's! Class A's! Class A's! Class A's!