#the entire family is just full of sass

[all-that-is-gold-is-now-gone]

The Child

The Parents

[holyblonded]

picture perfect | blue stars

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader, olga rios x teen!reader, barca femeni x teen!reader

summary: you and estrella will NOT ruin this media day for alexia

notes: ITS A CROSSOVER YALL!! it’s a play on the first fic i did for estrella!

Alexia had one goal today. Just one. A perfect media day family picture with the two teenagers in her and Olga’s life. In a normal household, it wasn’t too much to ask. In the Putellas-Rios household, it was like asking someone to carry an elephant.

Because one of them lived to spread chaos like glitter in a carpet, and the other was a stubborn little rock who would rather wrestle a bear than smile for a camera.

The morning was already off to a cursed start. Alexia blinked awake, slowly registering the bright sunlight pouring into the room. A glance at her phone made her bolt upright.

“¡Mierda! I slept through all my alarms!” (Shit)

Olga, beside her, stirred groggily, still in dreamland. But before Alexia could fully panic, a loud crash echoed from the kitchen.

“JESUS CHRIST!”

Then came the shrill wail of the fire alarm.

The two women bolted out of bed like soldiers under attack, Olga yanking on a hoodie as they sprinted toward the chaos.

They arrived to find: the blender on literal fire, Estrella curled in the corner of the kitchen, screeching like a banshee, you covered in foam, wielding the fire extinguisher like a warrior in a war zone.

“What in God’s name made you put a SPOON into a blender?!” you yelled, wheeling around on Estrella once the fire fizzled out.

“I didn’t mean to!” she shouted back, still not meeting your furious eyes. “It was an accident!”

Alexia looked between the two of you, the smoke, the foam, the utter state of the kitchen, and let out the most exhausted sigh in history.

“Okay,” she began, rubbing her temples. “What. Happened.”

“She wanted a smoothie and told me to do it because she was ‘too tired to function,’” you snapped, still glaring.

“She pushed me out of the way and said I was too dumb to blend fruit,” Estrella snapped right back, standing up now with her arms crossed.

“You put a metal spoon into a blender—”

“I didn’t know it was in there!”

“You didn’t check?!”

And just like that, it devolved into a full-on mimic war.

“‘I’m sooooo serious all the time,’” Estrella mocked, lowering her voice and hunching her shoulders in a perfect (and wildly offensive) imitation of you. “‘I wake up scowling and I eat cereal like it wronged me in another life.’”

“‘Oh look at me,’” you fired back, flailing your arms around dramatically. “‘I get yellow cards for sass and call it performance art. I’m an artist, okay, not a menace.’”

“Shut up!”

“You shut up!”

“Both of you SHUT UP!” Alexia finally roared, voice bouncing off the walls. “Silencio. Ahora.” (Silence. Now.)

The silence that followed was immediate and terrified. Olga stepped forward, arms crossed, eyes narrowing like a mother hen about to throw hands.

“Couch. Now.”

Both of you shuffled over like guilty toddlers, still occasionally shooting glares at each other. You sat stiffly, arms crossed. Estrella kicked her feet and tried to whistle, failing miserably.

“I want you both to listen carefully,” Olga began, voice calm but absolutely terrifying. “You are not to go near the kitchen again today. Do you hear me?”

You both nodded.

“You are going to your rooms. You are going to get ready for media day. You are going to wear what we laid out for you. And you are going to behave like normal human beings who don’t set things on fire. ¿Entendido?” (Understood?)

“Yes, ma’am,” Estrella muttered. You grumbled something that vaguely resembled a “yes.”

“Go.”

Estrella skipped off like she’d won a prize. You groaned loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear.

As soon as the two of you disappeared down the hall, Alexia dropped into Olga’s arms with the grace of a dying swan.

“I just want one photo,” she moaned. “One. One where Azulita’s not scowling like she’s at a funeral and Estrella’s not making jazz hands in the background.”

“Good luck with that,” Olga chuckled, stroking her back soothingly.

“They’re impossible.”

“Our girls are… special,” Olga said, trying not to laugh.

Alexia groaned louder. “That’s the problem.”

Olga kissed her head with a grin. “You picked them, cariño.”

“No, I picked one, you brought the other, and somehow they both got your attitude.”

Olga laughed as they both turned to look at the blender wreckage.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing the cleaning supplies. “Let’s try to make the kitchen look like it wasn’t ground zero.”

Meanwhile, in Estrella’s room, the chaos was far from over.

She had a white T-shirt on the bed with black stripes drawn on it, a whistle, and a pocket full of red and yellow cards.

“I’m going as a referee this year,” she declared proudly.

You stared at her like she had grown three heads. “You’re actually insane.”

“It’s a protest.”

“A protest?”

“Yeah. Against injustice. Like all the cards I got last season. I was targeted,” she said dramatically, holding a hand to her chest. “Like a political prisoner.”

You snorted. “You told the ref she should be banned from the sport and then clapped in her face.”

“She deserved it.”

You rolled your eyes.

Estrella smirked. “What about you? Gonna smile this year? Maybe try not to look like someone just punched your cat?”

You gave her a glare so deadly it could’ve been listed as a weapon. “Say that again and I will hide all your cards before we leave.”

“Try me, stoneface.”

You lunged at her with a pillow.

She shrieked.

And down the hall, Olga and Alexia exchanged a long, knowing look as they wiped down the counters.

“Ten bucks says they ruin the group photo again,” Alexia muttered.

“Twenty,” Olga grinned.

The drive to the training facility was…tense. Alexia sat in the driver’s seat, one hand clutching the wheel, the other pinching the bridge of her nose like it was the only thing holding her sanity together. In the passenger seat, you had your hoodie pulled up and arms crossed, glaring out the window like someone had personally offended your bloodline. In the backseat, Estrella was humming a suspiciously upbeat tune, kicking her feet and clearly up to no good.

Alexia knew that tune. It was the same one Estrella sang before trying to convince their team physio she’d developed narcolepsy to get out of fitness testing. This was not a good sign.

“Okay,” Alexia began, her voice tight with the kind of hope only a truly desperate parent has. “Please. I’m begging you both. Just this once. Can we have a normal media day? Please.”

“Define normal,” Estrella said innocently from the back.

“One where no one ends up banned from the press area, no one photobombs every teammate’s headshot, and no one fake-cries on camera for attention.”

“You told me to be authentic,” Estrella shot back with a grin. “Those tears were real. Real artistry.”

“You got into a fake argument with the mascot last year,” Alexia reminded her, voice rising. “It ended with you giving him a yellow card and yelling, ‘Read the rulebook, rat!’”

“He was offside!” Estrella protested. “Mascots should play by the rules too!”

Alexia closed her eyes. Counted to ten. It did nothing.

She turned to you next. “And you. Please don’t scowl in every photo like we’re at a funeral. You’re beautiful. Just smile.”

You huffed, still staring out the window. “I’ll smile when Estrella stops breathing.”

“Oh my God,” Alexia groaned.

“Fair,” Estrella muttered.

“Please. I’m serious. I just want one nice family picture,” Alexia pleaded, eyes darting between the two of you. “One. That’s it. For my desk. For the wall. For my sanity.”

“Fine,” you both mumbled at the same time, in the same tone of someone agreeing to do chores under duress.

The moment she pulled into the parking lot, you both flung the doors open and bolted like escaped zoo animals.

“I didn’t even park yet!” Alexia yelled after you. “WE TALKED ABOUT EXITING LIKE HUMANS!”

But you were gone. You’d vanished into the building like media day goblins. Alexia stared at the empty seats, her soul slowly peeling off her body. She laid her head against the steering wheel and let out a groan so deep it echoed into another dimension.

A few cars down, Fridolina Rolfö paused mid-sip of her smoothie and turned to Lucy Bronze, who was leaning against the hood of her car.

“…Did you hear that?”

Lucy nodded slowly. “Sounded like someone just got their soul crushed.”

They exchanged a look before making their way over. Frido tapped on the car window. Alexia lifted her head just enough to look like a haunted Victorian ghost.

“Are you… okay?” Frido asked gently.

“No,” Alexia mumbled into the steering wheel.

“What happened?” Lucy asked, already smirking.

Alexia sat up and pointed a dramatic finger in the direction you both had disappeared. “They happened.”

“Which one?”

“Both.” Alexia threw her hands up. “Estrella has something hidden in her backpack. I know it. She’s got that face. The ‘I’m planning chaos’ face. And you—” She gestured vaguely in the direction you had stomped off. “—are in a mood. And I have six interviews today. I cannot babysit two menaces and pretend to be a media darling at the same time. I just want one nice picture. ONE. And I’m gonna end up with Estrella dressed up as god knows what and her sister looking like she’s on her way to commit arson.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Did she actually bring a costume?” Lucy asked, trying not to laugh.

“She claims it’s a protest,” Alexia muttered. “Against… being carded too much. I don’t even know anymore.”

Frido smiled sympathetically and patted Alexia’s shoulder. “I’ll get her to smile.”

Lucy grinned and cracked her knuckles. “And I’ll wrangle Estrella.”

“You would do that for me?” Alexia asked, looking up like she’d just seen angels.

“Absolutely,” Frido said. “But I expect baked goods in return.”

“And I want to be in the good Christmas card this year,” Lucy added.

“Done,” Alexia said, already digging into her glove compartment for emergency thank-you snacks. “There’s chocolate in here if you survive.”

Lucy grabbed a mini Snickers. “I’m going in.”

Frido cracked her neck like she was preparing for battle. “Operation: Smile Like You Mean It begins now.”

As they walked off toward the facility, Alexia stayed behind just a moment longer, staring out the windshield.

“They’re lucky they’re cute,” she muttered, before finally exiting the car to deal with the mess her life had become.

Little did she know, inside the building, Estrella was already putting the whistle around her neck and practicing her best “foul!” voice, while you sat next to a very confused makeup artist silently radiating “do not touch me” energy.

This was going to be a long day.

“Leave me alone, Frido.”

Frido gave you a look. Not a mad look. Not a disappointed look. No, it was worse. It was her “I’m gonna smile at you until you cave” look. The one that had defeated many before you. But you were made of stronger stuff. Hardened by teenage angst, Estrella’s nonsense, and the agony of being dragged to media day against your will.

“I need a smile, kärlek. Captain’s orders,” Frido said, sitting down beside you as the camera crew finished setting up. (Love)

“Leave me alone,” you repeated, staring straight ahead like a statue in witness protection.

“Don’t worry,” the media manager chirped. “We’re just gonna play a fun little game of ‘Who’s Most Likely To?’ Should be quick, easy, and full of laughs!”

Frido beamed. You blinked. Slowly.

“Let’s start with an easy one,” the interviewer said, chipper as ever. “Who’s most likely to oversleep and miss training?”

“Estrella,” you and Frido said at the same time.

“Because she sets seven alarms and sleeps through all of them,” you added flatly.

Frido nodded. “It’s like a symphony of chaos. Honestly impressive.”

“Not when she drags me down with her.”

The interviewer laughed nervously. “Okay! Next one… Who’s most likely to cry during a sad movie?”

“Frido,” you answered immediately.

Frido gasped, clutching her chest. “What? I am not—”

“You cried when the dog in that commercial found his way home.”

“That dog had resilience!”

You stared at her, deadpan. “It was a detergent commercial.”

“HE SMELLED HIS FAMILY.”

The interviewer was losing it. “Okay, next, who’s most likely to get in trouble on media day?”

There was a beat. Both of you said, “Estrella.”

At that exact moment, as if summoned by the sheer force of your mutual exasperation, Estrella leapt into frame like a caffeinated raccoon, launching herself onto your back with an obnoxiously gleeful “WHEEEEE!”

Your soul left your body. Your expression didn’t change, but your eyes said, ‘I am about to commit a crime on camera.’

You stood up, Estrella clinging to your back like a koala, and in one clean motion, threw her off.

“Unhand me, chaos demon,” you said, brushing yourself off.

Estrella hit the bean bag beside the set, bounced up like it was a trampoline, and tackled you to the floor. The camera was still rolling and the media team was thriving. One guy was nearly in tears from laughter.

“Get OFF!” you yelled, grabbing Estrella in a headlock. “You smell like glitter glue and Red Bull!”

“You love it here!” she screamed back, wrapping her legs around your waist like she was practicing jiu-jitsu.

Enter, Lucy and Frido, both with the resigned energy of babysitters at a sugar-fueled sleepover.

“Why is she always on her back?!” Lucy barked, grabbing Estrella by the collar and yanking her off you like she was pulling a cat off a curtain rod.

Frido tried to help you up, only for you to swat her hand away. “I got it,” you muttered, smoothing your slick back with a grumble. “I’m already emotionally injured.”

Estrella was still kicking in Lucy’s arms like a rabid possum. “I had a whole monologue prepared!”

“No,” Lucy said, deadpan. “No monologues.”

“No more caffeine,” Frido added. “And no more sneaking onto interviews!”

The Barca media crew was thrilled. The whole scene went viral within the hour. Clips of your dead-eyed glare as Estrella launched herself onto you were already trending. Fans were obsessed.

“Me when my sibling breathes.”

“She’s fighting for her life.”

“Barça should make a reality show of just these two.”

You were not amused.

The media room at Ciutat Esportiva was packed. Journalists buzzing, cameras flashing, a Barça banner perfectly centered behind the long table where four chairs sat.

In those chairs was, Fridolina Rolfö, poised and smiling. Lucy Bronze, polished and charming. You, arms crossed and already three minutes into regretting everything. And Estrella, practically vibrating in her seat with chaotic energy, legs swinging, sunglasses on indoors, and what looked like a whistle clipped to her collar.

“Thank you all for coming to this special Barcelona Femení media panel,” the moderator began, chipper like they hadn’t just walked into a lion’s den. “Let’s start with a fun one, who on the team brings the best vibes to training?”

Frido leaned into her mic, smiling softly. “I think Patri always brings calm, but also a lot of joy. And Vicky too, she’s young, but she lights up the room.”

Lucy nodded. “Agreed. And obviously, Jana. She’s hilarious even when she doesn’t try to be.”

Estrella threw her hand up like she was in class. “I bring vibes too. Not good ones, but definitely powerful ones.”

The room chuckled. You stared at her, unimpressed.

“My vibes,” she added, leaning forward, “are disruptive. Unfiltered. Deliciously unpredictable.”

Frido let out a nervous laugh. “Yes, Estrella certainly… brings something.”

The moderator pivoted quickly. “Let’s move on. What’s one personal goal you’ve set for the second half of the season?”

“Win the Champions League,” Frido said confidently.

“Stay healthy and keep building our defensive chemistry,” Lucy followed.

Estrella leaned back in her chair. “I would like to… not get carded for saying someone’s haircut looks like a crime.”

You slowly turned your head to her. Glared.

She burst out laughing.

The moderator, barely keeping it together, turned to you. “And you?”

You leaned into the mic, monotone. “Stay out of trouble.”

Estrella wheezed.

You didn’t blink. Just turned to her again with the slow, soul-piercing glare of an older sibling who’s so over this.

“Okay,” the moderator said, definitely enjoying the growing tension, “If you weren’t footballers, what do you think you’d be doing?”

Frido thought for a second, “I’d probably still be in something athletic. Maybe coaching or sports science.”

Lucy nodded. “I always liked kids, so maybe something in education.”

“I’d be a DJ-slash-Instagram-meme-page admin.” Estrella answered, getting scattered laughs.

You blinked. “So…unemployed.”

She slapped the table, laughing so loud a camera wobbled. “YOU’RE JEALOUS.”

You turned to her fully now. “Jealous of what? Your TikTok addiction or your suspension record?”

“Those cards were political!”

“No, they were because you told a ref, ‘Your eyebrows are uneven and so is your judgment.’”

“It was accurate!”

The moderator was now wheezing behind their cue cards. The media room was eating it up. Phones were out. Recordings were on. Journalists were openly laughing.

Frido and Lucy exchanged slow, exhausted glances like they’d rehearsed this before.

“Girls,” Frido said, her voice cutting through the chaos like a disappointed kindergarten teacher. “Can we not fight in front of fifty journalists?”

You and Estrella froze like you were being told off by your mom in public.

Simultaneously, you both muttered, “She started it.”

“I literally didn’t,” Estrella hissed.

Frido gave you both the look— the one that promised consequences if you didn’t reel it in. So you sat back in your chair, arms crossed, your expression once again returning to emotionally bankrupt.

Estrella slumped in hers with a dramatic sigh, muttering something about “oppression.”

The moderator looked like they wanted to kiss Frido’s feet for regaining control.

“Well then! Next question… which of your teammates would survive a zombie apocalypse?”

Frido blinked, considering. “Caro.”

Lucy nodded. “Definitely Caro. She’d build a bunker.”

You leaned in. “I’d feed Estrella to the zombies.”

Estrella, without missing a beat, “I’d taste delicious.”

The entire room lost it. Even Frido laughed, despite herself, while Lucy shook her head, fully regretting ever agreeing to this.

The hallway outside the Barça media photo room was tense. Frido and Lucy stood in front of you and Estrella like two parents about to deliver the most intense heart-to-heart of their lives. You were slumped in your chair, chewing gum like it had offended you. Estrella had her feet propped on a stool and was flipping a whistle around her finger like she was about to cause a security lockdown.

Frido clapped her hands once, loud and sharp.

“Okay. Listen up.”

Estrella blinked, “Yes, coach.”

Frido narrowed her eyes. “Don’t test me.”

Lucy stepped in, folding her arms. “We need to talk about what this day means. To Alexia.”

That made Estrella pause. You looked up briefly, suspicious.

“She’s been planning this media day for months,” Frido said, softening a bit. “You two are all she talks about. She’s been telling everyone how good these pictures are going to be. She’s picked out spots in the house. She has frames ready.”

“She has a Pinterest board,” Lucy added grimly. “A Pinterest board, guys.”

“She rehearsed her smile,” Frido said. “In the mirror.”

“She’s printed reference poses!” Lucy said, scandalized.

Estrella’s mouth parted slightly. “Wait, for real?”

Frido nodded solemnly. “And she said and I quote: ‘These are going to be the kind of pictures that make me feel like my little family is complete.’”

You and Estrella exchanged a slow, loaded look. Your brows furrowed. Her whistle stopped spinning. The hallway went silent.

Lucy whispered to Frido out of the corner of her mouth, “What’s happening?”

Frido whispered back, “I don’t know. Should we stop them?”

“Are they communicating telepathically?”

“What if they’re plotting our demise?”

“Then it was a good run.”

Then you both stood up simultaneously. You, cracking your knuckles. Estrella, cracking her neck.

Frido and Lucy both took a cautious step back.

You looked Lucy dead in the eyes and said, “Fine. For Alexia.”

Estrella adjusted her oversized sunglasses. “Let’s go take these damn pictures.”

Inside the photo room, Alexia stood near the backdrop, nervously checking her phone. She was already in her kit, hair done, looking every bit the Captain of Chaos Control. She had asked the photographer three times if he had enough battery. She was two seconds away from pacing a groove into the floor.

Then the door opened. You strolled in, hands in your pockets, chewing gum with purpose. Estrella followed behind, uncharacteristically calm, not a single whistle in sight.

Alexia blinked like she was hallucinating.

You stopped in front of her. “Let’s get this over with.”

Estrella patted her shoulder. “Let’s make history, Mami.”

Alexia looked behind them, expecting Frido and Lucy to jump out and yell ‘Surprise! They’re AI clones!’ But nothing happened.

Then, miracle of miracles: you and Estrella took your places on either side of her. Smiling. Genuinely.

The photographer blinked in disbelief.

“Alright, let’s start!” he said.

You didn’t groan. Estrella didn’t pull out a clown nose. Nobody shoved anyone off a stool.

The three of you smiled like a perfectly coordinated little football family. Estrella rested her head on Alexia’s shoulder for one. You put your arm around her waist in another. There was even one where Alexia turned to kiss the tops of both your heads while you pretended not to be touched by it.

When it was done, Alexia just stood there, blinking like she was going to cry.

“You guys…” she said softly. “You actually…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Estrella said, waving her off, “don’t get emotional. That’s your job.”

You rolled your eyes. “This better get me out of the next five interviews.”

Alexia was already pulling you both into a hug. “I love you guys.”

Estrella mumbled, “Whatever.”

But she didn’t pull away.

Two weeks later, the framed photo sat proudly above the fireplace in Alexia’s house, perfectly centered, with the caption “My Girls” etched underneath.

Another copy hung right at the entrance of Eli’s house, where no one could miss it. Eli cried when she saw it. Alba teased her for days.

Alexia pointed to it every time someone walked in. “Look at them. Look at my beautiful, normal family.”

Meanwhile, you and Estrella walked by it every day like you didn’t plan the whole thing telepathically.

“Should we tell her?” Estrella once whispered.

You deadpanned, “Let her believe in miracles.”

And Alexia still smiled every time she saw it. Even when Estrella was banned from two training sessions for trying to ref a scrimmage again. Even when you got another warning for telling a La Liga photographer to “crop your face out or else.”

Because no matter what, that picture existed. And to her, it was perfect.

[idontcaboose]

Luthor's Cricket part 8

Previous. Masterpost

Lex thought he managed to scare off the little spirit, it had been about 5 hours since his rant in the conference room, but Lex could not help but replay the entire interview back in his mind.

He could see by his answers and Lane's rebuttals could make one not of this world think he was an evil man. Not to mention Phantom's... odd relations with other rich and... uncouth men over his apparently short life. He could not fully blame the child for projecting his trauma onto Lex.

Lex ran through his list of the child.

He appears to be somewhere between 13-15 years old. He died young, but there is no telling how long he has been dead, if he was ever alive to begin with. Though Lex doubts the latter.

He knew a rich man that tried to force a familial relationship upon him.

He was not killed from a kidnapping, but who knows if the man was the one who killed him. He copes with humor and sass, like any child his age. But his silent reaction to Lex yelling at him made him think that there was something there that had triggered him. Was he killed by a hero gone rogue?

It was an uncomfortably short list, full of speculation, but expected since he has only interacted with the teen for a day and a half, and most of it had been malicious on both their parts.

Lex sighed and rubbed his eyes, leaning back on his living room couch. He had dealt with his randomly assigned essay partners in college better than this.

“Hey…. Mr. Luther?”

Lex violently startled at the small voice for the doorway to the foyer.

“Yes, Phantom?”

“You are right.”

“What?” Lex asked, confused.

Phantom shuffled into the living room, standing on the other side of the low coffee table. “That should always be something you should worry about. Someone that strong should have plans in place to keep them from hurting other people. After I left, I saw that the person he was fighting was able to mind control him briefly. He did some pretty bad damage before Wonder Woman was able to stop him and arrest the guy.” Phantom rubbed his arms in a self soothing fashion. “After he came to, he tried to jump back into the action. He is reckless in his collateral. I can't speak for if he feels guilty about what he did, but he has been around for a while. He hasn't seemed to be more mindful of those caught up in the fights, just those in the direct line of fire.” The teen sighed. “For the few he rescues, more die from the buildings the rogues and himself break.

I still think how you are going about it is the wrong way, but… I can help you workshop some better stuff.” Phantom asked with a small smile.

Next

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Where the Wild Things Are pop-up event.

i want you to love me like my parrot does, honey

Where the Wild Things Are Pop-Up | Word Count: 3,000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Fade to Black Sex | POV: Eddie | Relationship(s): Steddie, Eddie & Gareth | Tags: Modern AU, Flirty Flirting, Mutual Attraction, Getting Together, Animal Shelter Worker Steve Harrington, Exotic Animal Foster Eddie Munson, Annoyed Roommate Gareth Jones

Also on ao3.

Eddie looks down at the phone in his hand, and turns off the running water in the bathroom sink he'd used to muffle his conversation. If you have to hide it, you're doing something wrong. That's what Uncle Wayne always said. 

But, he's doing it anyway.

Heading towards the door, he casually reaches to get his leather jacket. Maybe Gareth won't notice. Maybe he can slink out of here unnotic—

"Where are you going? Where are you going?" 

Fuck. Jimmy Buffett the goddamn parrot is a misses-nothing tattletale.

Gareth turns, looking, "Hey, Jim's right. Where are you going?"

"Just, you know, out."

"Eddie."

"Google, play Master of Puppets," Jimmy Buffett demands, and the bluetooth speaker fires up. Plays the opening riff, and then Jimmy asks all over again. Head bobbing back and forth the entire time. He only wants the intro, over and over. 

"Great," Gareth says, "just great, Ed. This is a fun loop to be in."

"Hey, we got him over the M-A-R-G-A-R-," he pauses, trailing off.

"No, no, keep going," Gareth goads.

"I-T-A-V-I-L-L-E obsession," Eddie finishes. There's no way in hell he's saying that word out loud. "This is an improvement and you know it."

"Unplugging the damn thing, not giving a bird the option of dictating our lives would be an improvement too, and yet."

"Where are you going?" the grooving parrot asks again, Master of Puppets blaring.

"Good question, Jimmy," Gareth concurs. 

"The shelter."

That lights a fire under Gareth's ass, and he's up off the couch. 

"Eddie, no, we don't have room for anything else!" Gareth snaps, waving his hands around the living room that's already full of cages, aquariums and other various habitats.

"But Steve called," Eddie says, and Gareth huffs out a breath of annoyance. 

"Steve's taking advantage," Gareth insists, and Eddie knows that's not true. It's just not easy to find someone qualified to foster all the weird and exotic animals. "Goodie won't even come over here anymore, you know. Wait. Go ahead. Get something else. Alligator? Komodo Dragon? Anaconda?"

Eddie laughs. Goodie hates to be in the same room as the snakes, but if Eddie covers their habits, Goodie can sometimes pretend they aren't there. Sometimes.

"What are you getting this time?" Gareth asks, and then waves his hands around, "No. Wait. Don't tell me. I'll be surprised."

Oh, and surprised he'll be. 

Mainly because Eddie doesn't even know. Steve just called, said he had something Eddie needed to see, and that was all the info Eddie needed.

Eddie snags Gareth around the neck, shaking him around in a rough thank you hug.

"If Jimmy keeps it up longer than thirty minutes, you can unplug the speakers, okay?"

"How generous," Gareth sasses, but crashes back onto the couch, "I'm really fucking sick of this, you asshole."

He'll live. He always does.

But, well. Eddie can't resist. He pokes his head back in the door, and croons, "Strummin' my six string, on my front porch swing."

Jimmy Buffett squawks and flaps his wings.

"Google, play Margaritaville," he demands, Master of Puppets forgotten. If looks could kill, Eddie'd be dead. Gareth throws up his middle fingers, both of them, before sliding his noise-cancelling headphones over his ears. 

Eddie cackles as he closes the door, leaving Gareth in Margaritaville hell.

When Eddie pulls up at the rescue, Steve's out front with a family, rolling around in the lush, green grass as he's introducing a dog that's wagging the shit out of its tail, thrilled to be out of the dog run. 

Fair enough. Eddie'd be thrilled if he was getting that kind of attention from Steve, too. 

Steve gets animals adopted, and it's pretty cool to watch in action. Dogs, Steve can find homes fairly easily. Same with cats. Eddie swears half the time the adopters are turning up just to see Steve. He features heavily on all their social media, and has an amazing track record for facilitating successful adoptions.

He's an animal whisperer, through and through. So, basically catnip to Eddie.

Unfortunately, he's made the shelter very popular, and as a consequence other animals have been dropped off that are far less easy to adopt out.

Those are the critters that dictate calls to Eddie.

At least they aren't being released into the wild, which is a real goddamn problem. If they end up with Steve, they've got a chance.

Steve sees him, and hands the leash of the overly happy pup over to Robin. Eddie gives her a wave, and then shoves his hands in his pockets as Steve approaches, grinning.

"Hey, man. Thanks for coming," Steve says, slinging his arm around Eddie's shoulders, walking him towards the shelter. "It's been a while."

And it has been a few months. There's no rhyme or reason to when they might get something they can't take care of at the shelter. But when they call, Eddie gets to see Steve and nurse his pathetic crush that's been building over the past two years.

Eddie hates that this is the biggest reason he keeps saying yes. Getting to be near Steve, feeling helpful, and yes, all the friendly touches. He definitely doesn't hate those.

Steve lets go to open the door, and leads Eddie through the maze of the place. Past all the run-of-the-mill animals, to the dungeon. At least, that's what Eddie calls it.

In a too small saltwater tank, is an octopus. 

"Oh hell no," Eddie laughs, "you want me to be the jailer for that brilliant escape artist?"

Steve giggles, "Hence the rocks on the lid. This is Houdini. We know what she can do. Apparently, she kept breaking into all the tanks near her, eating the inhabitants, then slinking back into her own tank like nothing had happened. It was a real aquatic mystery, until they set up a camera and caught her in the act."

Eddie grins, and looks at her, watching her flash, changing colors and then back again, "Smart little asshole. You're resourceful, ain't you, honey?" Eddie asks her, watching as she moves through the water.

"You'll take her?" Steve asks, looking hopeful.

"Of course," Eddie answers, "you'll just have to let me get something set up for her. I have a saltwater tank cycled that'll be big enough, which is lucky. I'm sure you don't want to keep her here for three months. But I'll need to do some shuffling, and reinforcing. They're like cats. Liquids that cannot be contained."

Steve laughs. 

"How old is she?" Eddie asks, because they don't live long, as sad as that is. He wants to be prepared. She's definitely not a long term commitment, not like Irv the tortoise, or Jimmy the parrot or Heqet the African clawed frog. Those are decades long commitments, if the right home never comes along. 

Steve isn't sure, which isn't uncommon for the things that they sometimes just find dropped off on their front step.

At least Houdini has some backstory. That's not always a given.

Gareth comes home, still pissy. Margaritaville isn't playing, so that's a plus. Eddie prepared for this, though. Bribes work on Gareth.

"There's booze in the blender," he teases, at least this time out of Jimmy's earshot.

"Okay, I might forgive you. Show me what you've got first. Direwolf? Slimer? Harry from the Hendersons?"

Eddie laughs, "I don't have her yet. It's an octopus."

"Oh. That's not so bad," Gareth says, salting the rim, then pouring himself a margarita that Eddie was heavy handed with the good tequila in as an apology.

"We have to move Pennywise and pals," Eddie admits, and Gareth groans. He hates fish tank business. 

"We can do it," he reassures, "eat a taco. You'll feel better."

Eddie stopped and picked up the tacos they both like, and they sit and eat, splitting the pitcher of margaritas until they're both tipsy.

"I just," Gareth says, "I don't mind the animals. But women don't want to come here."

Eddie can't be mad at him for telling the truth. He knows. Men don't want to come here either.

"Goodie said I could move in with him," Gareth says, and Eddie feels his stomach drop, "for a price."

"You'll kill each other," Eddie says.

"I know," Gareth answers, "I'm not going anywhere. But this house is a real cockblock."

"Tell me about it," Eddie sighs, "I'm not doing any better."

He knows Gareth knows that, too. But these animals don't have anywhere else to go. He doesn't want them destroyed just because their previous owners didn't take good care of them.

"At least you have Steve," Gareth says, poking at him over his crush.

"I wish," Eddie says. 

He wants Steve, but that's a pipe dream. 

Eddie rolls over, blinking. Trying to reorient. He picks up his phone, and peers at the screen. The security camera notification woke him up. David is sitting on the back patio. Waiting.

So, Eddie crawls out of bed. Throws on a t-shirt over his boxers, sliding on shoes. 

Pulling open the sliding glass door, he asks, "Hey, buddy, where you been? It's been a few days, let me get you some food," Eddie tells the plump raccoon and heads back to the kitchen to make peanut butter sandwiches, and fetch fresh water as well as some other snacks. He isn't technically Eddie's, but he can't stand to see any creature go hungry. 

So, fed he'll be. 

Even if he shows up at three in the goddamn morning.

A few days later Eddie calls to let Steve know his saltwater tank is ready that Gareth nearly killed him for trying to set up the first time. Too much chemistry.

"Want me to deliver her?" Steve asks, and Eddie pauses. Steve wants to come to his house? He's never been to his house before. Eddie comes to him. That's the deal. Nobody wants to come here.

"I mean, if you want, but if you don't have time, I can make my roommate come with me to come get her," Eddie offers.

Steve insists, so Eddie starts to tell him his address, before he realizes Steve knows. It's on every application, every foster agreement he's ever signed.

"But you already know that," Eddie laughs.

"I do," Steve answers, "but it's less creepy this way."

Two hours later, Steve's on his doorstep with Houdini. They start the process to get her drip acclimated into the bigger tank.

"Wow. This is," Steve says, and Eddie can see him looking all over the room and the rest of the sentence goes unsaid. It's a lot to take in. Aquariums, cages, habitats all over the place. Steve had to know. He's the one that keeps calling Eddie to pick up these exotic and hard to place animals. 

"Pretty, pretty," Jimmy Buffett coos, dancing in his cage, looking at Steve.

Well, he's not wrong. Just embarrassing Eddie for fun, undoubtedly. Like an unruly five-year-old.

"C'mere, dingus," he mimics, and Steve tosses back his head and laughs. 

"He sounds just like Robin," Steve says, and approaches her cage, "I can believe you remember me. Hi, Jimmy."

"Hi, Jimmy," the bird mimics back, "Get me a beer."

"No beer. Want a full tour?" Eddie offers Steve. Just as well show him all the crazy. 

And he does, guiding Steve room-to-room.

When he sees the large enclosure in the corner of the spare bedroom, he stops, "Holy shit."

It's kinda crazy. Half water, half land, home to the dwarf caiman Steve though was a baby alligator when it was dumped on their step. 

Eddie couldn't house an alligator. He doesn't have the space, or experience. But a dwarf caiman? Totally doable, after a small construction project that Gareth, Jeff and Goodie bitched about the entire time.

Goodie hates her, but she does like to grumble and hiss, especially at him.

"She's a bitch," Eddie says with affection, but he's sure he's stuck with her for the rest of her life. Which is fine. He wants to find nearly everything that turns up here a good fit for a permanent home, elsewhere. That doesn't always work out. 

Most, if not all of them, were pets somebody got in over their head with. It's sad.

Steve doesn't seem scared, or disgusted, like a lot of people. Not even annoyed, like Gareth. Who honestly rolls with it better than most. He's not scared, at least. Eddie knows this funhouse of creatures is why he's single. Like, he can hookup with a guy here and there, but as soon as they get to the point that he needs to bring him home, shit goes south, quick. Nobody wants to sleep in a room with a frog singing, or watch TV with a chatty beach bum parrot.

He can't have everything, he's chosen this, and that's okay. 

Steve is looking in each enclosure, and then he comes up to one of the enclosures in Eddie's bedroom, peering down inside, "Oh, wow. Hi, there, I don't believe I know you."

Eddie grins, looking down into the tortoise enclosure, "That's Irv. He was my grandpa's. My first experience with reptiles. I inherited him when my Uncle Wayne declined the opportunity to raise another beast," Eddie says with all the affection in the world. Wayne raised him. A tortoise, though? Not for him.

Steve laughs, and Eddie smiles at him.

"How old?" Steve asks.

"Forty-ish?" Eddie answers. Older than Eddie, definitely, but he's not a hundred percent for sure. He's just been able to trace photos back that far, at least.

"Amazing," Steve says, and Eddie's even more smitten. Steve doesn't seem grossed out by anything he's been confronted with so far in this house. Eddie shouldn't be surprised. He knows how much time Steve puts in at the shelter, Eddie just assumed he preferred the fuzzy, domesticated pets. Most people do.

Houdini is ready to be released into the bigger tank, and she immediately inks. It's expected. Eddie skims it out of the water, not wanting her to suffocate, and then secures the heavy lid. Flipping the new latches. She's sure pretty. 

Steve meanders back towards the front door, and Eddie is sorry to see him go.

"Stop by again, if you want to visit. I'm sure Jimmy would be thrilled to lay eyes on you," and if on command, Jimmy gives a wolf whistle. They both laugh, "See?"

Then, Steve steps out onto the front porch, seems to change his mind, and steps back inside, "Okay. If I'm off-base, ignore me," Steve says, and Eddie feels the blood rushing to his cheeks.

No way.

"But. Would you maybe want to go out sometime?" Steve asks, and he looks so shy. Steve's never looked shy.

"Yes," Eddie says, taking a step closer, "fuck. Yes. Of course."

And Steve laughs, seemingly relieved. Eddie can't believe this guy wants to go on a date with him, especially after seeing his little shop of horrors. 

"Thank god," Steve says, "I've felt the vibes. I thought? But I didn't want to scare off my best shelter ally if I was wrong."

"You weren't wrong," Eddie reassures, and Steve smiles, big and bright. Eddie wants to lock this down. "Tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night," Steve agrees.

Drinks, dinner and now Steve's standing in Eddie's bedroom shedding his shirt. 

"Pretty, pretty," Eddie says, mimicking the parrot, and Steve giggles.

Then he drops his jeans, and scoots up Eddie's bed.

Eddie just stares. He's gorgeous, and so fucking confident that Eddie's going crazy. He wants him, he needs him, fuck, maybe he loves him.

He damn well wants to find out if this could be something. Something great, maybe.

So, he pulls his own clothes off, and then crawls on top of Steve, pressing him back into the sheets.

After, they lay shoulder-to-shoulder, Heqet singing a mechanical underwater buzzing sound.

"That's soothing," Steve says, and yeah. Eddie's heart is gone.

Steve bolts upright, startled, and Eddie lays a hand on his back, "Sorry. It's okay. I'll be back. Another animal to feed."

But Steve slides out of bed behind him, and Eddie is so goddamn smitten by this man. 

"What is it?" Steve questions.

"David. My big dirty raccoon," Eddie explains, and doles out the snacky snacks he brought out to the patio.

Steve giggles, quoting, "Eww, David."

And Eddie grins. Exactly. Steve gets the reference, and Eddie's fucking enamored with this man that crawled out of his bed in the middle of the night to watch a raccoon wash his finger sandwiches in water.

Steve hugs him from behind, chin on his shoulder, and Eddie's so goddamn happy.

In the morning, Steve helps him feed and tend to all the different animals.

"Gareth's gonna be jealous," Eddie teases, "he can't find a woman to come back here to feed his snake."

Steve snorts, then makes a thinking face, looking over at Eddie, "You know. I actually know someone at the shelter. Dr. Dawlsen."

"Robin?" Eddie asks.

Steve cackles, making Jimmy squawk, "No. She's a lesbian. And not a vet."

"Oh. That all tracks," Eddie says, and Steve just grins.

Gareth comes out of his room, sees Steve, and rolls his eyes. 

"Hey!" Steve demands, and Gareth looks at him. Steve snaps a couple pictures on his phone. 

"What the fuck was that?" Gareth asks.

"Smile. He thinks he might have a lady doctor to set you up with that wouldn't run screaming from our menagerie."

"Vet, not gyno," Steve clarifies. 

"Don't care. Carry on," Gareth says, preening like he's the fancy bird in the room.

Then, Steve's gotta go, "Well, I had fun. Let's do it again. And again."

Hell fucking yes. 

"You're not gonna run for the hills?" Eddie teases, slinging his arms around Steve's neck, pressing their lips together again.

"Not a chance," Steve answers, nuzzling into Eddie's neck, "I like your wild kingdom. Kindness towards animals? Especially these animals? Such a turn on."

When Steve pulls back, Eddie grins, pulling his hair over his mouth. 

"Tonight?" Steve asks.

And Eddie nods. Tonight. Absolutely.

And if you want to write your own, or see more entries in this pop-up, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to see other entries for the Where the Wild Things Are prompt!

Notes: Title is a play on the lyrics from the Jimmy Buffett song Like My Dog, and obviously his Margaritaville played a role in the fic itself.

[deangirlsstuff67]

Big Bad Wolf

Jax Teller x Reader

Summary: When it comes to you the big bad wolf turns into a golden retriever who aims to please.

Warnings: fingering, period sex, 🍑 play, dirty talk, language, p in v, creampie, unprotected sex, squirting, overstimulation, cockwarming

Authors Note: this is my first fiction outside of the supernatural family. I’m looking at expanding my writing to other universes I enjoy. Don’t worry Jensen and his characters will still be very present on my page ! I hope you enjoy !!

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The club house was packed tonight. The boys had a big deal go through and they were all celebrating the win. You're sitting at the bar watching your man make his rounds. Hugs and fist pumps all around for the new president of the club and his first big success.

Most of the time you enjoyed these parties, the energy buzzing around the room is addicting. The smell of spilt booze, weed, tobacco, and sex lingers in the air around you as you sip on a cold beer. You'd be by your man's side as his proud old lady any other day of the week, tonight however was not the night for you.

Were you proud? Fuck yes.

Problem is your period showed up and you just wanted to sink into your bed and pop some pain meds as sleep takes you and the pain disappears.

You're turned towards the bar, playing with the label on your bottle when you feel his presence behind you. Large, strong, dangerous, all consuming, and dominant.

Jax Teller owns every room he walks into with ease.

He doesn't speak just looms behind you as the smoke from his cigarette swirls around you, "yes baby?"

You turn to face him, Jax is standing so close you have to tip your head up to lock eyes with him. Your elbows are resting on the bar behind you, eyebrow cocked in complete defiance.

Chuckling softly Jax shakes his head, “see this is why I love you woman, ain’t afraid of the big bad wolf.”

“Big bad wolf should work harder to be scary I think.”

“You going to continue sassing me or you going to tell me why you are sitting alone tonight instead of your bubbly self?”

“Period.” One word was all it took to turn the big bad wolf into nothing more than a golden retriever. Jax has one weakness and it’s you. He’s entire body softens when your voice hits his ears, there’s zero discussion before he finds Bobby across the club house and waves goodbye. Gentle guiding you through the crowd of crow eaters and bikers by a hand on the small of your back, the crowd parts for the king and his queen.

Outside the air is warm. You already know your truck will be parked in the compound for the night. Jax leads you down the row of bikes before getting to his. Your heart kicks up a notch when he fire it up and the bike rumbles to life. Swinging a boot covered leg over you wrap around your man before taking off into the dark night.

Jax Teller, your prince of Charming in biker boots and a cut.

—————————————————————————

Gemma took the kids for the night which means your house is a ghost town. Jax plans to take full advantage of the fact he has his woman to himself and no one to interrupt him.

A trail of clothing from the front door to your bedroom is the only evidence that anyone is home. Jax has you walking backwards in nothing but your black matching lace underwear set. The back of your thighs hit the edge of the bed before he is throwing you on top of it and following right after.

The two of you are a mess of limbs and moans as you scramble to remove the remaining articles of clothing from each other. Most men wouldn’t want anything to do with a woman on their period. You can’t exactly say you blame them, fuck you don’t even like dealing with it. Jax on the other hand isn’t most men, after having two kids there isn’t a whole lot that freaks him out. To be honest there wasn’t a whole lot he wasn’t into before the kids. He read an article in one of your magazines you keep in the bathroom about how sex helps with the discomforts of periods and that was it, he was determined to try it the next time you were on yours. When he realized that it worked, fucking you on your time of the month became one of his favorite kinks.

Watching the danger blaze in his eyes while he has three fingers deep within your trembling walls as you make a mess on them is a beautiful sight.

The calm before the storm.

“That’s it sweetheart, squeeze my fingers.”

Fuck me, this man is a walking wet dream. He’s got you turned into a moaning mess on your bed. Wet squelching sounds from the mixture of your arousal and blood is heard along side your moans and his growls.

“Oh fuck you’re beautiful when you make a mess on my fingers, can’t wait to sink my cock into you.”

When he hits that special spot deep inside your cunt, your back arches off the bed as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Jax doubles down he’s efforts the moment he knows what he’s done.

“There it is. Going to make the pussy gush for me baby girl.”

“Let go y/n. Show me how messy you can be.”

You come with a scream of his name. Your walls clench around his fingers hard as they try to suck him in deeper. Your vision goes blurry and all noise disappears as he finger fucks you through your first orgasm of the night.

—————————————————————————

You barely came down from your high when you feel the stretch of his large cock pushing into your quivering cunt.

Eyes roll into the back of your head as he bottoms out. You can feel him impossibly deep inside you as he stills to let you adjust to him. Ocean blue eyes stare into you y/e/c eyes, “I love you y/n.” It’s both a promise and a warning. The last bit of softness from your man before he fucks you into your mattress.

On your back, legs spread as wide as they can he thrusts into you in long punishing strokes. You’ve been fucking for an hour now and there’s no sign that he’s ready to stop. Sweats dripping from you both, you’re so cocky drunk you can’t make a simple word make sense at the moment. This is how he likes you, fucked out on his dick as he drags orgasm after orgasm out of you.

Your pussy no longer hurts because of your period, now it’s on the verge of too sore because of Jax’s thick cock.

“One more baby. I know you have it in you.”

“Fuck, oh fuck y/n,” he looks at where you’re connected and watches his cock sink into your swollen cunt, “god you’re such a mess and I fucking love it.”

“My dick is wet all because of you and this filthy little pussy.”

“You need me to cum inside you baby, fill you up with my seed and watch it drip from you.”

All you can do is moan at his words. You feel your pussy clench around him as his cock twitches inside you. He’s close, you know it and so does he.

“One more baby, come on.” Out of no where he snakes his hand down to your puckered hole that’s wet with cum that’s been leaking out of you. It pushes you over the edge like he needed as he sinks two thick fingers into your asshole with a punishing thrust of his cock.

“Fuck… Jax!” Wetness gushes out of you as your well used cunt pushes his cock out. Cum squirts all over his hand, thighs, and dick. Your body goes limp, head rolls to the side, you hear him growl in your ear as he pushes back inside of you and continues to fuck your senseless. Fingers working your ass and his dick pistons into your pussy.

Three hard thrusts later and he’s cumming inside you as he screams your name into the dark.

That’s how you stay. Jax rolling to the side, he’s dick still deep inside you as you both enjoy the aftermath of sex. Lazily he moves his fingers inside your ass, loving how your pussy spasms once in a while around his sensitive cock.

No words are exchanged as you drift to sleep. Jax can’t keep his hands off you even when he’s falling asleep.

Tomorrow you’ll wake up with his cock still safely inside you, hard and ready to fuck all the cum and blood out of you. Your asshole will be loose and ready to go for a few rounds as well.

Jax Teller will always make sure his woman is beyond satisfied and taken care of.

Once he’s done fucking you like the bitch in heat that you are, he’ll make you coffee and pancakes and draw you a warm bath.

You’re one lucky lady.

—————————————————————————

[fun-k-board]

MARVEL RIVALS - Christmas time!!

Characters included: MAGNETO, SCARLET WITCH, LOKI, STORM, MOON KNIGHT.

Note(s): This includes a lot of headcanons because I'm not sure the full lore and characterisation of things like the X-Men, what version of Moon Knight they're going for, what have you. So, I'm doing it on what I prefer from various comic runs, movies, shows, etc over the years. Some are a little lackluster because of this.

MAX EISENHARDT / ERIK LEHNSHERR / MAGNETO

Erik personally doesn't celebrate Christmas, and that's due to the religious connotations of the holiday even if it's become less Christianity based over the years. But, he doesn't mind the excuse to give you a gift and spend time with his family if you do celebrate. Even if, at this point, the 'family' is just you and him.

He won't put up decorations if you're spending Christmas at his house or if you share a house, he won't wrap the gift, he won't have Christmas themed dinners or anything, but he'll always accept your gifts and give you one back if, as mentioned before, you happen to celebrate. If you don't, he most likely won't give you a gift or mention it as the holiday's existence will simply slip his mind. More of an afterthought than anything else.

Of course plenty of mutants on Krakoa celebrate, and plenty don't, and plenty have a weird in-between where they participate but don't really celebrate. So, it's not entirely out of sight out of mind. In all honesty, Erik is just happy mutants get a chance to have any holidays alive and happy with one another at all.

If you prefer to go all out for Christmas, as in all the things he wouldn't do that I mentioned before, Erik wouldn't mind. All he asks is that you leave both his room and the public parts of your home alone. Assuming you share a room, then he plainly asks that you don't decorate it, but if you must, to keep it at a minimum.

If you don't share a house and he's simply spending holiday time at your house then he politely comments on the decorations, maybe giving a bit of backhanded and passive aggressive sass if he thinks they're ugly. But, it's your home. It's not his place to say what goes and what doesn't.

Speaking of that situation, if you have family staying at your house for Christmas / you live with family, he's very awkward, and I don't believe he'd go at all if nobody in the house is a mutant. Erik doesn't doubt they know of him, it'd be strange if they didn't, so I think you two would give him a secret identity for your families safety. He'd be very silent and still during opening presents, with a dash of silent judgment.

I don't think he'd outright refuse to help you with decorations, he'd do that old man thing where he stares at you with a huffed look on his face until you ask him for help, in which case he mainly uses his powers if there's metal involved. Sometimes he'll say something like 'really my dear, did you truly need help or is this an excuse to spend time with me?' But hey, he's pretty tall so if you happen to not be tall, he's a great help!

I think he'd gift you something like jewellery, metal, but also with other things like, well, jewels. He wants something simple, but that shows heartfelt meaning. It's covered in intricate patterns, perhaps ones that reflect your place of origin to show that he loves you, even where you were born.

Erik's eyes tilt up, following your lingering gaze. He nearly lets out a laugh at the mistletoe hanging above you, but it comes out as a small huff. 'what a silly tradition.' he'd hum, before leaning close and giving your lips the most unsatisfactory peck he's ever given them. At your look, whether outwardly dissatisfied or with only a hint of disappointment in your eyes, he'll act like it wasn't purposeful, sighing as if this is some chore as he leans in for another. But you know him well, you know that hidden loving look in his eyes.

WANDA DJANGO MAXIMOFF / SCARLET WITCH

Wanda, for the reasons in Magneto's section, also doesn't celebrate Christmas. Although, I don't see her continuing on any holidays in general or family traditions, her broken connection to her father most likely created a fractured connection to anything associated with him. She just doesn't seem like a 'holiday' person to me.

However, if you two either happen to share a house or she's at yours in time for the holidays, she doesn't mind helping you put up decorations or helping you cook for Christmas. If you have family, she's doing a mix of doing what she can to impress them whilst refusing to do anything that makes her go past her comfort zone.

I absolutely think she's a good cook, and if she doesn't unintentionally hijack the kitchen, she will help whoever's in there. Whether that be you or your family. Any attempts to tell her that 'you're a guest' and 'you should be relaxing' are met with a wave of the hand and a small, awkward smile. As much as she does just love to help your family assuming they're sweet and accepting of her, she also is very peculiar with food. I think Wanda would make her own side dish just in case.

Honestly, I think she would invite Pietro and Lorna if you and them are close enough? She knows Christmas is a family event, and since that's her family, why not invite them, right? She hopes you see them as your family too, because they've spent too long without something stable. Even though deep down she does have some love for her father, although maybe not as deep down as she thinks, she doesn't want to and would never contact him for Christmas with you and especially not with your family.

Wanda loves to do that thing where she hugs you from behind, absolutely astounded that she has you. She's astounded that you love her, and that you appreciate her so much. Not many do, and she can't help but find so much comfort in that. I think she'd do it whenever she gets emotional but doesn't want to show it, a hug from behind to tell you that she's hurting, but you're helping her heal.

Wanda doesn't like the feeling she gets when opening presents in front of your family, especially if they've given her something. It's usually something they've got an idea from after asking you, so maybe a candle or something handmade, and as much as she appreciates and even loves the gifts she's given it's still a weird almost performance she needs to put on. The feeling isn't as uncomfortable as it is just a bit awkward.

I think she'd only give you a gift if she knows you're getting her one, through communication. She won't ask what it is or peek through your mind to find out, she doesn't really care what the gift is exactly, and she trusts you enough to gift her something she likes and would find useful. I think Wanda does love little mutual acts of affection, so she wouldn't miss out on an opportunity to give you something.

Her eyes flick up before yours do, and Wanda can't help but give you a small chuckle, the most amused look in her eyes that you've ever seen. 'oh? Isn't this convenient.' she purrs, her hand outstretches, capturing your own in a comforting embrace. She whispers, 'I can't believe I got so lucky, my love. You're wonderful.' before giving you a short but comfortable and loving kiss.

LOKI LAUFEYSON

Loki thinks your celebration is more than a little silly. I mean, who cares about this guy who gives presents to kids? Why not the adults? He does far more in a day than some snotty brat has done in their entire lifetime!

Oh- he's not real? Well, then where are his presents, mortal?!

He will say that even if you're not a mortal by the way. It's his personal way of saying 'you're under me and I'm perfect compared to you' without actually saying it.

He absolutely refuses to stay at your house for Christmas if you have family over, because he knows that he will cause mischief and you will get angry at him for it and he would rather you gift him your devotion than be under your wrath. Don't tell him he could kill you easily, he knows that, and he will if you keep pittering on. (He won't). Unless, perhaps, you don't have the best relationship with your family. Then he can probably convince you that it's fair game.

Loki will not invite Thor or Hela, don't even entertain the idea. He will leave.

I think he'd give you a dagger of some kind for a present, even if you're a regular Joe and don't have a use for weapons, you can always display it. And have an engraved stand that tells you your mighty lover, Loki, God of Mischief and notoriously handsome trickster, had gifted you it for your silly holiday.

He will not help you cook or put up decorations unless you literally beg him to, even then he can mainly do some pieces of meat at least decently well. It'd be best to have him do some parts of the cooking while you're preoccupied with the other. He tends to only help with the decorations he knows you'll struggle with, although he won't tell you that outright it's pretty obvious. Especially if you're shorter, less strong than he is, or have any kind of physical disability that could cause trouble with putting up decorations.

Will puff up his chest and grin when you compliment his efforts to help and or compliment his gift. He loudly proclaims that of course he'll give you something so beautiful, because he's beautiful and he very clearly has taste. But, you simply couldn't ignore the way his gaze softened a little when you were speaking. The way you could feel his eyes looking you up and down with adoration.

Loki raises a brow at your expectant look, slowly following your gaze until it reaches the mistletoe. Oh, you've explained this to him, the strange little kissing ritual you midgardians have. His expression twists into something different, his eyes sparkling with mirth, but he doesn't go right in for the kiss. Instead, he holds your chin in his hand, pulling you close until you can breathe in each other's air. 'what a silly mortal.' he mutters, making you tilt your head so he can kiss you. He doesn't intend it to be a small peck either, his kiss is as deep and passionate as you allow it to be.

ORORO MUNROE / STORM

Ororo finds amusement in your tradition, the decorations, the gifts, it makes her heart warm. It's a time for family, and she reminisces over the X-Men's past Christmas times. It's never dull, lots of mutations being used when they're not supposed to, frequent arguments and drama, it was perfect. Not to mention, always the best meals from Gambit and Rogue. She adores the look on the younger mutants faces when they receive something special.

And, in her personal opinion, she's the best gift giver in the X-Mansion.

Ororo would absolutely help make meals, and she jokes that she's not as good at it as Gambit or Rogue are, but she'll try her best. She then proceeds to make one of the best meals you've ever had. It's perfectly flavoured, the texture is just to your liking, it's absolutely delightful. And if you're spending time with family? Expect her to go all out.

Your family will adore her, no doubt about that. No matter what the situation is, whether you and Ororo share a house, you live on your own, you live with family, or you and your family visit the X-Mansion for the holidays. She charms them with her sternness and discipline, her strength unimaginable, but her warmth and friendliness is what truly seals the deal in their adoration for her.

Unwrapping presents tends to be a long process for the X-Mansion. There's a lot of people there, so it's normal to open them all at once and try to get it through as quickly as possible, cleaning as you go with trash bags at the ready to throw in any waste. With a whole family, or perhaps just you in the mix, it can be a bit awkward and even a little overstimulating if you're not acquainted with the X-Men. She's never felt the need to pretend, so she assures you that you don't need to be happy the entire evening because Logan isn't and everybody still loves him, you'll be fine.

The one thing Ororo loves to do most is listen to you. Whether it be generally your life, what you had for breakfast, a story from your childhood, it creates something easy where she can bounce off the conversation with something of her own. It continues the conversation until either of you end it, and causes the conversation to flourish where it would've died otherwise. She uses this to find out what present you'll want for Christmas, so it'll heavily depend on what you actually want.

It honestly doesn't matter what you get her, she'll be appreciative all the same. She knows just how hard it can be to afford things, to create from seemingly nothing, no matter how much effort you put in. To her, the fact you gave her a gift at all is something meaningful within itself. So, even if it's some poorly made easily breakable bracelet, she will wear it with pride.

When she finds herself under the mistletoe with you, her lips curl into the most amused smile and she'll use her powers to twirl the leaves, a teasing hint to her true might. 'was this your plan all along, my dear?' she'll ask, leaning closer, waiting for you to capture her lips. If you take too long, however, she'll raise a brow and mutter a teasing 'don't test my patience' before kissing you herself.

MARC SPECTOR / MOON KNIGHT

Marc is, well, he's not the most jolly guy, and it's been years since he's even bothered to tune into Christmas time when it happens. It's not like he has anybody to spend it with. He would much rather you spend Christmas with Steven or Jake, they're better at that kind of thing, and they're a lot more friendly, buddy buddy with you.

Of course Marc loves you, and if you really want to spend time with him for Christmas he will do it, but he isn't going to act differently for you. He will be the same edgy, broody man. He will absolutely say something like 'the Christmas lights are too bright, it ruins my outfit.' in the gruffest voice you've heard.

I think he'd be a good cook. Nothing that blows you away, but you can definitely eat enough to get full and be satisfied with it. Jake probably leaves some recipes around, and if it does end up becoming a disaster he can always take over and salvage the situation before the house burns down.

He doesn't mind the house being decorated, assuming it's either his or your shared one, as long as it's not like so many Christmas lights it's hard to see or so many decorations you get whacked on the face with them whenever you want to walk somewhere. He'd also help if you asked him to, but I don't think Marc would just hop on and help. He'd assume you have it all covered.

I don't think there are many universes where Marc would consider meeting and visiting your family for Christmas, especially not the Marvel Rivals one. If you're really insistent and passionate about it, he supposes he can. But don't expect him to stay for long if they're not accepting of you or him, he doesn't have any tolerance for that. Plus, he doesn't want to hear Khonshu complaining in his ear that he isn't committing murder while he's around your family, they don't get him or his Identity as Moon Knight like you do.

'Mistletoe, huh?' he muses, his voice would sound almost annoyed to anybody else, but you know him better than anybody else. Or, at least most other people. He crosses his arms as you look up and realise, clearly having forgotten at some point. With his expression a strange mix between a firm sternness and amusement, he pats his lips with his pointer finger twice. 'you put it up, you initiate.'

[ashthesalamipiece]

Haiii can u dooo dad katsuki x mom reader with a baby girl who’s just like katsuki, she’s 3 and is so rude for a baby, she says snarky things and gets it FROM katsuki, and says it to class A, she feels so proud and katsukis just like “that’s my girl” and reader is just like “what is happening..”

"Little Gremlin, Big Attitude"

Pairing: Dad Katsuki Bakugo x Mom Reader

Featuring: Class 1-A as victims

Genre: Fluff | Crack-ish | Family Comedy

Warnings: Baby Bakugo language (light sass, no real swearing) | Reader is emotionally exhausted but thriving

---

“She looks like you,” you whispered to Katsuki, watching your 3-year-old toddle through the U.A. halls in a little black and red romper that he picked out.

He smirked. “Damn right she does.”

She stopped dead in front of Kirishima, eyes narrowed like a tiny general surveying enemy territory.

Kiri crouched with a big smile. “Hey there, squirt—!”

“Move, cheddar head, you’re in my way.”

“Wha—” Kiri’s soul visibly left his body.

Bakugo wheezed. “THAT’S MY GIRL.”

You covered your face. “Katsuki.”

“What?” he said, grinning proudly as their gremlin daughter stomped onward like she owned U.A. “She’s got instincts.”

**

Tenya Iida tried to greet her next. “Ah! Young Bakugo, how wonderful it is to see the next generation! Might I say—”

“You talk too much, Glasses.”

Iida stood frozen mid-chop. “I… what?”

“She even says it in your tone, Katsuki. Like. The rhythm. The dramatic pause. That’s your doing.”

“She’s efficient.”

“She just told an honor student to shut up.”

“And saved herself 8 minutes of speech,” he said smugly.

**

Shoto bent down politely, handing her a piece of candy. “For you. No hard feelings.”

She took it. Looked him dead in the eye. “You look like cold milk.”

Shoto blinked. “…Thank you?”

Bakugo’s wheeze was now a full-on wheezy laugh. “THAT’S. MY. GIRL.”

You stared at your child, who was now looking at Todoroki like she’d done him a favor. And then at your husband, who had clearly imprinted his entire personality into a 3-year-old.

“Why is she like this?” you muttered.

“You mean awesome?”

“I mean terrifying.”

“She’s gonna rule the world,” he said, scooping her up with one arm while she scowled at Denki for looking too long. “Right, firecracker?”

“Damn right!” she squeaked.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “She should not know that phrase.”

“She doesn’t swear,” he said smugly.

“Yet.”

He leaned over and kissed your cheek. “Don’t worry. She gets her heart from you.”

You sighed, watching her smack Kaminari’s hand when he tried to tickle her. “I’m not sure she has one.”

“That’s my girl,” he said again, with all the warmth of the sun in his voice.

And you smiled — because yeah. She was definitely his girl.

And somehow, you loved them both for it.

[wtfdemother]

Slasher AU Hewitt!König biggest sweetheart imo. NSFW below, happy Kinkvember day 13 ☃️🤝

post dividers by tsunami-of-tears

CW: boobs, boobs, boobs, boobs, lotta booobs. Man I make the baddest bitches send me nuuudes/lyr. Anwyay, König’s got an oral fixation that needs attention.

Hewitt!König X Wife!Reader

Hewitt!König who trails behind you that morning on your way to the barn. Luda Mae needed eggs for breakfast and you were more than happy to oblige, thinking nothing of the nervous fidgeting coming from the hulking man who sulked at your side. It was funny, really, sometimes you’d peer out the corner of your eye to catch a glimpse of him, trying hard to ignore you while he was hard at work. You were no fool, you knew behind those bushy, furrowed brows he was dying to be in the place of that three month old calf you coddled, or the one being nuzzled and grabbed instead of the big, squishy nose of a horse.

Hewitt!König who wanted the same amount of attention you gave the chickens and other farm animals on that damn ranch, you’re the whole reason he got his family to raise more than just chickens and pigs! If he’d knew those furry creatures would steal your attention, he wouldn’t have gotten them. Now, he’s paying the price, big time. He hates and loves himself for it, there hid no ill intentions towards your little animals, how they brought light to your face was more than enough to soothe his heart. He learned to share but decided that enough with the chores the minute you spilled a pail of water on yourself.

Hewitt!König who drops whatever it was he was doing, his concentration fizzling out in an instant. His mind is full of you. He steps over the object now lying in the mud, two meaty paws come to grab you tight by the waist, hoisting you up like a bag of flour. “König! We don’t have time for this—” He throws you onto a stack of hay, grunting a mumbled response behind the leather mask to silence your sass. To him you were giving him sass, but you just wanted to change out of this wet shirt. To which he obliged happily, helping you toss that shirt to the ground.

Hewitt!König who ignores your weakly said protests as he kisses his way up your stomach to your throat, giving the delicate skin a small nip before descending lower to your collarbone. From there his kisses get hotter, breathier, marred flesh pressed the kindest of kisses on your skin, your head fell back and you let him do whatever. A deep rumble of approval reaches your ears, making your panties slick from the timbre sound alone. He stills you when you squirm, his breath hot on your peak. Gingerly he licks at the bud, eyelids flutter shut as he groans from the taste of your warmth on his tongue. He swore he could fall asleep suckling at your nipple, but the strain in his pants proves too much to simply ignore. He palms your unoccupied breast with a large hand, for such calloused fingertips they worked most benevolently.

Hewitt!König who closed the entire world off when he was with you, too busy pouring his attention on the firm peak in the warmth of his mouth, gathering as much spit as he could around your nipple as he swirled his tongue and sucked with fervour. You dig your fingers deep in his hair, trying to pull him off but that mountain of a man wouldn’t budge so long as he had a mouthful of your tit. He lets go with a resounding pop!, his lips glistening with spit and his breath short. He doesn’t give you a moment of reprieve, diving in again to latch onto your other nipple. No, he hasn’t forgotten about it, kleine lamm.

Hewitt!König who traps your growing bud between his teeth, giving it a little tug before taking it fully in his mouth. He’s growing demanding, wanting more of you to satisfy that gnawing urge. Growling feral sounds occupy the air, you swore you had an animal on top of you as he tore into the fat of your bosom, leaving small dents the shape of his teeth all around the ample flesh spread beneath him like dough. What a sight, he huffs fondly, dipping down once more to kiss the space between your breasts.

Hewitt!König who only pulls away once he’s done slobbering all over your chest, grinning at the bite marks on your tender flesh and the tears brimming your eyes. He kisses you apologetically, but that doesn’t stop your tits from being sore. He gets that much from the frown on your face, carefully he ducks back to press the softest of kisses on the blues and purples blooming over your skin. Again and again, you can barely hear him moving above but you can feel his lips pressing reverently to each and every bruise. What a sight for sore eyes, he thought.

Hewitt!König who speaks only for you, despite the discomfort. “Tut mir leid, Schatz…” he grumbles, voice hoarse from years of misuse. He doesn’t really need it, mostly just communicates with a series of curt head nods and grunts. But with you? He liked seeing you shine with delight every time he spoke. He leans into your touch as a hand slides down his cheek from the top of his head, his hair a little disheveled from your tight grab. “S’okay, big guy…” you say in a whisper, running a thumb over his scarred face. Beautiful, genuine features you thought, nobody felt so deeply like you did for each other. “I was a little rough too…”

He was too shy to finish y’alls business in the barn, so he quickly carried you home. Later on, sometime in the early evening he brought lunch over to your bed on account of your legs being out of commission, curtesy of König and your shared needs.

[thewitchblue]

"What's that?"

You asked Terry one day. He fell asleep during art class, and you wanted to know what he was drawing. He startled awake when you placed a timid hand on his arm.

Terry blinked at you, bleary-eyed before looking back down at his novel. He moves his arms to guard it more from your gaze once your words are registered in his exhausted brain. He awkwardly said,

"My, uh... it's probably stupid. I'm making a graphic novel."

He was oddly protective of his work, but your kind smile and curious gaze made him feel like he could trust you. You looked so warm and open to either seeing his work or walking away if he said no. There was something special in the look you gave him. It was a benevolent gaze that welcomed him in when everyone else shoved him away.

With great hesitation, he slides the chapter he was working on for you to read. He tapped his pen on his desk nervously. He suddenly felt empty-handed and vulnerable.

He was anxiously watching your expression as you read his work. He's never... shown off his work before. He always felt like it was lame to continue a project he's been working on on-and-off for years. He's never had a desire to share his novel. It was still in the works and had a long way to go.

He felt himself physically relax when you gave him back his novel. He felt as if he had just opened his heart to you and prayed you didn't stab it. This project has years' worth of thoughts and ideas. He had question marks and scribbled ideas in every corner of every page he has worked on so far.

Every time he had an idea of the direction he wanted to take the novel in, it was scribbled down along the sides or in the corners of the pages in his scratchy handwriting. It felt childish to look at now that he really took a look. He cringed and immediately tucked it away into the folder he had it placed in.

"I'm impressed, Terry. You'll have to send me a copy when you release it."

Your kind words made a part of him melt. It gave him the courage to continue. He bit his lip as his eyes returned back to his novel. It was still a series of loose sketches and not anywhere close to finished, but he appreciated the kind words.

You always were the kind kid with a soft voice and gentle hands. Your encouragement stirred something in him. He couldn't believe nobody has dated you yet. He's kept tabs on you for as long as he's known you. You with the gentle smile and the heart of gold. You, who never has a bad thing to say about anyone. You, who loved your friends and family with your entire heart and soul.

Before you could walk away, he awkwardly took your hand to stop you. Now that he thought about it, this was probably a terrible idea.

"I, uh, I... would you like to go out some time?"

He felt awkward. He can bully the Joker into submission, but a beautiful pair of doe eyes has him buckling? He feels pathetic, truly, with how nervous he felt, but he always had a thing for you that he never knew how to explain.

You looked surprised. Terry isn't known for relationships, especially not serious ones that you were seeking. Your eyes softened, however, as you looked at your conjoined hands before turning back to face Terry.

He's normally the bad kid; the kid teachers hate and the class legend, full of sass and always ready to pick a fight, but this Terry was... different. He wasn't guarded. He seemed so shy under all the sassy armour. He was adorable as he carefully watched your expression for any hint of what you may be thinking about.

You lightly squeezed his hand and smiled warmly at Terry. His blue eyes looked at you with such raw emotion that there was only one decision.

"Yes. You can tell me more about your novel, McGinnis."

You scribble a time and location for the date onto a slip of paper and hand it to him with a sweet smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow, pretty boy."

He looked like he suddenly realised he managed to get a date with you, and he was a blushing mess. You kissed his cheek before walking off. This may be the start of something more beautiful than he could ever hope for.

Bruce is going to kill him, but he feels truly content in the moment.

[opal-owl-flight]

Quick lore question, did marie considering the idea of replacing 4 play into the insecurities she has later?

Absolutely.

I wanna preface this by saying one thing: Young 4 was a COMPLETELY different person before she got recruited by Marie. And Marie...responds to her accordingly.

Long read abt Hero2 events below!! Its. A lil messy sorry qisjke these are my notes

Young 4? A bitch.

Everything she ever wanted was given to her. Moved out of the highlands with an ego the size of a planet (and also bc she felt suffocated there), thinking she can make it in the big city.

...she struggled to make it alone. She had moved out bc her family was suffocating her with love, but now theyre not here, so now she feels homesick and underappreciated.

All that is expressed by her harsh, bitchy attitude. Shes gonna be mean bc no one has seen her for who she is. She'll show them!!

She finds her way around like this, and discovers that shes just as good at turf war here and at home. In fact, shes *so* good that she got the status of a rising star!

It aaalll just gets into her head. Shes "proven everyone wrong" now. Shes got the superiority complex and can back it up.

Marie...

...saw this. She was looking for a new agent to help find the missing zapfish. The second 4 heard this from her, she flexed her arms and...

"Look no further, your hero is RIGHT HERE!"

Marie at first adored the spunkiness of this new agent. Uuuntil 4 started thinking that shes better than her.

"Watch out, Agent Four!"

"You watch YOURSELF, grandma! Think Im a damn idiot to not see that coming? WAHA!"

Marie rolled up her sleeves after several stages full of her ignoring orders or sassing her out of nowhere.

Is that how shes gonna be? Fine.

When 4 finally trips and falls, hard, on a particularly difficult level, Marie pulls her to the side to fix her up and give her a lecture that tore her fucking ego to shreds.

She says something so fucking harsh like "That attitude will make SURE that you die sad and alone. I wonder how anyone puts up with you."

4s too hurt by her own failure to say anything back.

The reality of war finally gives her a reality check. Each victory is earned. its her life on the line. And the world.

She regains her spunk after saving the world.

------

Silly 4. She gets the job done but it takes a LOT of pushing in the mid-stages. Its like she got legitimately bored after the initial super easy ones, and thought the entire campaign a joke.

She went back to her turfing life topside between stages. And she takes a WHILE to come back to her missions -- usually late!! And then before she even goes in she just HAS to yak Marie's face off with what she was doing up there.

"Youre late."

"You shouldve SEEN ME, Marie!! I was carrying that Rainmaker round! I was-"

"Pray tell, Agent Four. How will you keep participating in turf with the Zapfish gone?"

"Whaat? Cmon. Nothing seems to be changing! Theres still power through the city!"

"The backup supply wont last forever, you know."

"Yeah yeah. Okay. Im here now. Wheres the next kettle?"

This attitude is from her high school days, clearly. She breezes by everything so fast that she can afford to do things last minute. It affects even this.

That, alongside her talking smack back to Marie, is what makes her snap at 4. Its what makes 4 stick to the mission fully starting late area 4 and area 5. (This is also around the time 4s life was threatened. God help me in those stupid platforming stages)

Post Hero2, 4 more or less does what 3 does. Shes the "replacement" til 3 comes back. (That cant be good for her confidence.)

At the same time, she has to deal with Callie and Marie talking out what the fuck Callie did with Octaria. "THEY SQUIDNAPPED GRAMPS!!!" and all. Why help them??? They get into squabbles where 4 was the unfortunate witness to. And peacemaker. It does NOT help that Callie for a while kept putting the glasses back on!!!

4 wishes so bad she had help of any sort. She feels 3 might be able to do something but what does she know?? Shes never met em!! She just imagines what the missing agent would do in that situation.

Callie...was also the person she got close to. Shes fun (unlike the stuck up Marie), shes empathic, she opened 4s eyes to the Octarian plight. It made her acceptance of 8 later much smoother.

Im not saying shes not close to Marie either, I bet they healed their relationship around this year too. Marie's sorry she tore 4s ego the way she did (even if deserved...). Marie's much more supportive of what 4s doing topside. Shes expressing her pride in the agent she found much more openly. (She brags abt her to Callie at times.)

The three of them heal together in that time. 4 sees them as older sisters Im p sure. Theyre both giving her tips for turfing and -- Marie even helps her with homework, HAH

And...while I say that 4 and Marie are in better terms, there are still days where Marie blows up on her. Lesser extent than before, but shes *worried* for her agent! (Its a similar plight 3 has.) In those times, its Callie who has her back. ("Hey! Its not like shes not trying!!" Callie understands how it is, and she also knows Marie best -- shes the one who makes 4 understand where Marie is coming from.)

[storiesofsvu]

The Nanny w Benefits Ch 1

Rita Calhoun x Rafael Barba Warnings: language, alcohol, mentions of smut, teasing and sass Flashbacks italicized.

Glancing up you double checked the name of the restaurant with the name Lucy had given you, checking your reflection in the glass to make sure you were presentable before pulling the door open. You weren’t entirely sure who you were looking for but knew that they would have their eyes open and be expecting you. Lucy was one of the few friends from college you’d kept in touch with over the years, through her you’d heard about a full-time nannying gig that had caught your eye. You hadn’t talked to the parents, but she said they were friends of Olivia, who she’d been nannying for, for years now. It had all been a word-of-mouth thing, you hadn’t even emailed a resume, but Lucy’s recommendation was also worth looking into, from both sides. 

You paused in the entry way, wondering if they would be on the restaurant side or lounge side, considering it was lunch hour, honestly, either could work. Right as you were about to step towards the hostess stand to ring the bell movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. An older man, well dressed in a thee piece suit —though sans jacket and sleeves rolled up— half stood from a booth set for three, giving you a wave and a small nod. You swiftly moved through the restaurant over towards him,

“Y/N?” The man questioned with a slight tilt of his head and you let out a little sigh of relief, smiling as you extended your hand.

“Yes. It’s great to meet you…?”

“Rafael.” He smiled, accepting the handshake and gesturing to the booth, “please.” You slid in easily, taking opposite sides of the table, “sorry about the mess. Just trying to get as much work done as possible.”

“No worries.” You waved him off as he began to pack up his various files and folders, tidying them to the wall enclosed side of the booth, “your wife?”

“Rita should be here anytime” He checked his phone quickly in case he’d missed anything, double checking the time, “she may have gotten caught up in court.”

“What is it that the two of you do?”

“We’re both lawyers.” He replied, pausing briefly for the two of you to put in drink orders, noting that he placed one for Rita as well, “she works criminal defence, I work for the people, moved into homicide a couple of years ago.”

“Two big jobs on top of raising two kids, honourable.”

“You can see why we need the help.” He teased and you let out a small laugh, you were about to ask about the kids when there was a sudden outburst as who you guessed was Rita rushing her way up to the table.

“Fuck, I am so sorry. You were right, that fucking Carisi kid just does not stop talking.” She slid into the booth beside Rafael, swiftly ducking in to kiss his cheek.

“I tried to warn you.” Barba chuckled, “I didn’t think you had a case against him right now.”

“I don’t!” She laughed, “he pounced me outside the courthouse and walked me the entire way here rambling on about probative versus prejudicial.”

“At least you don’t have to deal with him barging into your office for advice on the daily.” He rolled his eyes with a grin and she huffed, pausing for a sip of wine before suddenly turning to you.

“Oh god. I’m so sorry. You must be y/n.” She reached across the table for a handshake that you accepted, “Rita.”

“Pleasure to meet you. And no need to apologize, it sounds like a hectic day.”

“Basically, every day is hectic.” She replied dryly to you and you chuckled, “so, tell us about yourself? What kind of salary are we going to have to offer you to steal you away from whatever family you’re with currently?” You barked a laugh at that one.

“As long as you pay better than the American public school system, you’re set.”

“Are you working at an after-school care?” Rafael asked and you laughed softly once again as you shook your head.

“No. I have a degree in primary education; I’ve been teaching anywhere between pre-k and grade five for the past eight years.”

“And you want out from that?” He asked again and you nodded.

“Have been for almost a year now. The amount of work public school teachers have to put in, the amount of supplies we have to buy ourselves? Hell, the amount of kids that come in without lunches on a regular basis? I kept a mini fridge stocked and that was all on my own dime. I know that nannying for an Upper East Side family will make me way more and even if it’s a technically twenty-four hour on the clock gig, I’ll prefer it.” You dug through your bag for a second, pulling out a folder that you slid across to them, “that’s got my resume, my degree, references and my background check all ready for you.”

“I get wanting out of the schools.” Rafael started, “my Mami retired a couple of years ago, she was a principal at a charter school.”

“And I thank you for the background check, but we don’t need it.” Rita cut in, “I had Benson run you through the system.”

“Benson?” Your brow furrowed for a second while Rita began to flip through the paperwork, “oh, Lucy’s boss, right? I forgot she was a cop.”

“Yes.” Rita replied, “you’re cleared on that part, no worries.” She cast you a warm smile, pausing briefly to thank the server for dropping off side plates and a variety of appetizers Rafael had taken the time to order before anyone got there, encouraging you to take whatever you would like.

“What are the expectations for the job?” You asked, glancing up to the two of them, who briefly glanced between each other as if reassuring that this was the right time to have the conversation before Rita spoke again.

“We would prefer a live in nanny but understand if that’s not an option for you. And either way, we’ll be covering your rent at your current apartment as long as you’re with us.”

“Oh, you really don’t”—

“We both understand the need for personal space.” She cast you a grin, “you’d just be an assist to morning and evenings. Rafael and I will both be around to get the kids ready for the day and wound down for the evenings, it’s mainly the in the middle part that we need help with.”

“Mami was the primary so called day care for them but now that they’re both walking, she’s complaining she can’t chase after two with her bad hip.” Rafael interrupted and you let out a chuckle.

“Understandable.”

“You would be their primary care from about eight a.m. until roughly seven p.m., but the evening hours may be later depending on our work loads.” Rita continued, “and as much as we all know screen time can be educational, and we get the breaks, we’d prefer them to be playing, or whatever the fuck kids do when they’re not watching T.V.” You laughed at that, “it would be great if you would be able to help around the house a little bit”—

“She’s now asking what your cooking skills are.” Rafael cut her off with a smirk, “because she will burn spaghetti and take the entire building down with a grilled cheese.” Rita swatted at his arm with an offended look as you tried to stifle your laugh.

“As much as I hate to admit it.” She tossed him a glare, “he’s right.”

“I know my way around a kitchen.” You assured them with a smile, “and am more than okay with picking up a little bit of laundry or cleaning. I know how messy kids can get, and how many clothes they go through. And…” you nodded towards Rita, “that Prada only goes to the dry cleaner.”

“Good girl.” She nearly smirked over the rim of her glass of wine, she then reached into her bag, flipping through a few files before pulling one out and sliding it across to you, “take your time to look over that. There’s a couple of different options including your level of responsibility, and your pay grade. You’re more than welcome to take a few days, compare to whatever other offers you may have going on, and we’re willing to make some counter offers.”

“I mean you do both argue for a living.” You teased, pulling the folder toward you.

“Any other questions?” Rafael asked and you paused; you head tilting slightly.

“Uhm…the kids?”

“Oh god!” They both nearly jumped in their seats, hands clutching at each other’s arms before there was a small fit of laughter.

“Clearly we’re not used to this.” Rita laughed, pulling one from you.

“This is a nannying job for them, right? Or is this to make sure the two of you have actual home cooked food and reminders to cut back on the caffeine and get to bed at a reasonable hour?” You raised a brow accompanied by a smirk, holding back the laughter as they paused to look at each other, having a near silent conversation as Rita’s head tilted sideways toward you with a tiny nod.

“We’ll tack on an extra five hundred a week for that.”

“Deal.” You laughed.

“For what it’s worth, the kids are with my Mami right now, don’t worry.” Rafael assured.

“Oh, it’s fine.” You waved him off, “I’m just used to meeting them before any paperwork happens, a little play date as it were.”

“Are you free Saturday?” He asked quickly double checking their schedules, “you could either come over or meet up at the park?”

“That sounds perfect.” You smiled, “I just want to make sure that everyone’s on the same page and doesn’t hate each other before we get into the thick of it.”

“Completely understandable.” Rita replied suddenly letting out a groan as her phone went off, “fucking Buchanan.” She groaned, “I have to go, you’ve got this?” She glanced to Rafael, gesturing to the table and he nodded, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before she darted from the table. It didn’t take him long to flag down the server and settle the bill, 

“Sorry, that was cut so short.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” You let out a laugh as you gathered your things, “I know what life can be like when you’re both working crazy jobs.” You slid out of the booth, scooping up your things and pulling on your jacket, “we’ve got each other’s numbers? You can text me about this weekend? Make sure the kids don’t hate me?”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.” Rafael assured with a grin on his face as you briefly shook hands before you made you way from the restaurant.

**

Beekman was filled nearly to the brim, lawyers, detectives, judges and the like sprawled through the place, celebration ringing through the air. Rafael Barba, the man of the hour had just wrapped a conversation with Olivia before she was pulled off with Amanda when Rita approached with a fresh glass of scotch.

“Got you the good stuff, consider it your birthday present.” She teased as he took the glass with a laugh a playful roll of the eyes.

“What?” He asked, noticing the way she was observing him.

“Nothing.” She smirked, “you’re going grey there gramps.”

“Oh, stop it!” He retorted, “you’re only four months younger than me!”

“And I will always remind you of that.” She clinked her glass to his, “any big plans for forty-five?”

“Is that a proposal?” Rafael smirked over the rim of his glass and Rita barked out a laugh.

“I meant like a ski trip or something! I still have four months to do whatever I want, remember?” She shot him a side eye, their conversation pausing briefly as they bade goodnight to Judge Farrell.

“So, I suppose I’m to show up to your birthday with a ring?”

“Fuck no.” She hummed over a sip of her drink, “am I supposed to trust you to pick out one by yourself?”

“I wouldn’t even dare try.”

“Good.” She grinned back at him, “I’m a little surprised you even remembered. Last time we talked about this was nearly twenty years ago.”

“You’re forgetting my thirty eighth.”

“Ah yes. That disastrous night where we thought it would be a good idea to go home together.”

“Too much scotch will do that to a person.”

“Who were you trying for that night? Was it Benson?” Rita asked, her brow furrowing.

“If I remember correctly, it was you gunning for Benson.”

“Mmm….” She took another sip, “what can I say, she gives good head.”

“Oh, I know.”

“We should’ve just brought her with the two of us.”

“She had to relieve the sitter.”

“Right.” Rita huffed, “fucking children.” She muttered; her eyes trained on the petite blonde in the corner.

“Are they cock blocking you tonight?”

“Nope.” She smirked, “Jesse’s at Lucy’s for the night. Sorry to disappoint but if I’m stuck with you for life, I’m going to fly free until that last minute.”

“As long as you can avoid the crotch goblins?”

“Oh my god.” She rolled her eyes, “I say that one time in junior year and you never drop it.”

“I’m assuming they’re off the table then?”

“Meh.” She shrugged, “when I said I didn’t want to have children, I meant I didn’t want to birth them. I’m not letting something you put inside me destroy my vagina. I think it’d be kinda nice?” She smiled as she glanced off into the distance, “having a little mini me wandering around out there in the world?”

“I don’t think Prada makes baby clothes Rita.”

“For enough money Prada will do whatever I tell them.” She retorted and Rafael snorted.

“Shall I start putting calls into adoption agencies tonight?” He teased and it was her turn to laugh.

“Are you kidding me? Find a surrogate. Our genes? Together? Those kids would be unstoppable. And adorable.”

“Oh, now there’s multiple?”

“I call the limit at two. Once they outnumber us, we’re fucking done for.”

“You might want to move in quick there Rita.” Raf teased gesturing towards Amanda, a fellow bar patron introducing themselves with more than a friendly look.

“Ah fuck.” She sunk back the rest of her drink, starting to move away from Rafael, “four months! And your vows better be better than that lame excuse of an argument on the Henderson case!”

“You’re insufferable!” He called back to her with a laugh. 

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

I think this is probably the last one for tonight. Or...this morning. It's five A.M. and it would likely be logical for me to go sleep now.

Soooo I got two Fluffy Alphabet requests for Sassy McSwordsman back to back with quite a few intersecting letters, so I just combined them both into one post.

This post, even.

Anyway...Mihawk.

A is for Affirmation (How affirming are they of you and their love for you?)

“Yes, I called you 'darling.' What of it? Shall I call you pest instead?”

Has developed a tendency to address you by pet names without being sarcastic about it, and doesn’t even really seem to notice he’s doing it unless you point it out—in which case he’ll fix you with a wry look and probably an equally wry comment.

The L word really doesn’t come out of Mihawk’s mouth very often. It’s not something  he’s ever said very much to anyone, he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. If you say it then he’ll respond accordingly, but otherwise he don’t say it much.

Actions speak far louder than words in his case. He has made it clear that he absolutely will not tolerate anyone or anything threatening or insulting you, that he places your safety and contentment on a pedestal and will do whatever he has to in order to ensure you have both.

When he does say it, you know he means it. He makes sure to look into your eyes, to say it with absolute conviction.

Always says it before you part ways, regardless of how long, or before you fall asleep. Given the dangerous and violent nature of his life in general, he knows full well that any time you part could be the last time. He wants to make sure that if that should come to pass, that “I love you” should be the final words exchanged between you.

C is for Courtship (How would they court you?)

“I wouldn’t venture to waste my time speaking with anyone but the most stunning woman here, my lady.”

Courtship is a game of cat and mouse to Mihawk—once he knows you’re interested, he thoroughly enjoys teasing you with his own intentions, and he’s both patient and confident enough to keep the game going until you’re ready to lose your everloving mind.

He’s fairly subtle about it, but not so subtle as to leave you wondering about whether he’s interested. He’ll make it clear enough that he wants you to himself, but he wants to make sure to leave you wanting, to build the anticipation to a breaking point.

Intense eye contact when you’re speaking, peppered with quick glances up and down your body.

Keeping his voice low and intimate when he speaks to you, maybe as an excuse to lean in a little closer…or a lot closer.

His hand curling beneath your chin to draw you in, close enough to almost meet your lips before drawing back and assuming a more formal tone again—eyes glued to yours the entire time, drawing a great deal of entertainment from your reaction.

Greeting you or parting ways with you by bending down slightly to lift your hand and brush his lips to it.

F is for Family/Family (What happens when they’re around other people you care about?)

“Yes, darling, I’ll behave—so long as they do.”

He’s willing to grin and bear family affairs and friends for your sake, though he very much prefers it being just the two of you.

Perfectly capable of being polite and cordial, though there’s going to be the occasional dry comment here or there simply because sass is his default setting.

But if it’s uncomfortable for you to be around anyone, or if you have any family members or fair-weather friends that happen to be vindictive and/or judgmental, then it might be best to leave him out of it—he absolutely will not put up with anyone insulting you.

You’re his treasure, after all—and he’s one of the strongest men in the world, which makes you, as far as he’s concerned, among the most valuable treasures in the world. No one gets away with doing or saying anything  to demean you in front of him.

He has more than enough self-control to not get violent for your sake, but he doesn’t need Yoru to tear someone a new asshole if they do or say anything that he deems offensive. He’s just as quick with words as he is with a blade, and the offending party is going to come out of the exchange with a  mortally wounded sense of pride.

I is for I Love You (Who says it first, how long does it take, how does it happen?)

“What do you mean, ‘do I mean it?’ Why would I have said it if I didn’t?”

Him. Absolutely him.

Solitary as he is, it’s a bit awkward for him to say in the first place. He wants to be sure you know, but he doesn’t want to make a huge deal of it. It’s just a simple truth that has to be stated at some point, and he has to be sure he’s the one who says it first.

It might take a while. He won’t say it until he’s absolutely sure of it, but his inclination to be in total control of any and every situation he finds himself in means he’s going to take that initiative himself.

If he so much as senses you intend to say it first, he’s going to cut you off every single time.

It’s also going to come completely out of the blue. Not in the middle of some extravagant gesture, but just in passing; perhaps before you go to bed one night, perhaps as you happen to be leaving the room. He intends to catch you off guard with it, to see if you simply return the sentiment single thought, before it fully registers in your mind what you’ve just said—what he has just said.

The more taken aback you are by the realization, the more amused he’ll be; he was halfway aiming to shock you, and he finds it quite endearing.

K is for Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you/be kissed?)

“…And to whom, little one, do those lips belong?”

Firm and unyielding, deep and intense, grasping you by your arms or your wrists to limit your own movement and claim full control. He wants to steal your breath away every time your lips touch, and damned if he isn’t an expert at it.

He loves to press his lips just below the corner of your jaw to feel your pulse quicken while his hands drift over you.

He’s going to leave bruises, marks across your neck and shoulders that claim you as his, so that no one might dare question who you belong to.

Mihawk would never admit to having any weakness, but if he had to admit to just one, it would be when you brush your lips just next to his ear in between intimate murmurs and whispers—it drives him absolutely feral for you.

N is for Needs (What do they need in a healthy relationship?)

“Come now, dear—do you think I would be here with you if I didn’t honestly want to be?”

Not an awful lot, honestly. As high maintenance as he comes across (and he his high maintenance in nearly every other aspect of his life), he really doesn’t require much from a romantic relationship. Just the basics, really: trust, honesty, and loyalty. The three go hand-in-hand, and he would never have even entertained the idea of a relationship with you if he didn’t trust you, so he isn’t terribly concerned.

His confidence borders on arrogance at the best of times, so reassurance isn’t any issue. He can’t see any reason that you would lie about your feelings, nor does he have any reason to lie about his own. He’s brutally honest to a fault, so there really isn’t any reason for you to mistrust him, either.

While he would prefer for his lover to be just as low-maintenance, he won’t fault you if you aren’t. He has no issue offering you reassurance if you require it—though he may taunt you a bit about needing it in the first place.

Quality time would likely be his primary love language; he can stand some time apart, but he very much prefers having you near. Knowing you’re safe in his arms gives him peace of mind.

O is for Others (How do they react when you’re around other people?)

“Of course I trust you, my little bird—it’s everyone else that presents an issue.”

It strongly depends on the people in question. If he knows that you’re in a social situation you find uncomfortable, he won’t leave your side for any reason, and will use his presence alone to intimidate the opposing party until they leave you be.

If you’re among friends, he’ll take on more of a silent observer role. He’s more than capable of being amicable if directly addressed, but otherwise he’s likely to remain off to the side, quietly watching and listening, taking it as an opportunity to learn more about you.

In a crowd of strangers, particularly if he notices any other men eyeing you, he’ll keep an arm curled protectively around your waist. He isn’t much for public displays of affection, but he wants it to be known that you’re his, and that anyone who thinks they can change that will have to answer to him.

He does his best not to come off as imposing or controlling toward you—but while he trusts you implicitly, he doesn’t extend that courtesy to many other people.

[bisexual-bookman]

Hello !! So you've been putting batman's...children? (like nightwing and red hood and robins) on my dash for some time and now I'm attached 😅

Unfortunately, my batman / dc knowledge is a bit limited (as in i've seen recent movies and s1 of the 90s batman cartoon so far) and there is a lot of material so do you have any recommendations on where to start reading / watching about them ?

*rubs my little gremlin hands together* hehehe all according to my plan

In actuality though, I am still fairly new to the fandom as well. I've only just started collecting/reading comics; so most of my intake has been through movies or TV shows. I can give you a break down of some of my personal favorites as well as media that can give you some good general information or an overview into certain characters. (My personal faves are Nightwing and Beastboy, so a lot of these are going to lean heavy into them)

*=Personal favorites

^=General info

Media:

*/^ Batman: The Animated Series (BTAS)(1992-99): The ground work for a lot of modern day DC animated shows; it helped move Batman and Co. away from a campy joke into a more dark and serious light. It was done in a dark noir animation which suits Batman the best. The first time in their roles from Kevin Conroy and Mark Hamill as Batman and the Joker respectively. (Was very interesting to see them settling into the roles after coming from media were they had already been doing it for a decade)

*Batman Beyond (1999-2001): This one follows an old Bruce that had to give up the mantle due to age. Enter Terry McGinnis, who's father was murdered who takes over the mantle of Batman. Animation type is the same as BTAS, and follows Terry as he has to learn to become The Batman with the help of Bruce. Interesting to see Gotham City in the future as well as any of Batman's enemy's that remained.

*The Batman(2004): This one is a WB Kids show so it doesn't have heavy topics or the same struggles as the others and tends to follow cartoon logic. However, it follows Bruce in his early years of Batman (~early 20's) as he gets his ass kicked, learns, and adapts. This one also changes the origins of some of Batman's rouges. All in all though it's good, and showcases the struggles that Bruce had to go through in the early years of Batman.

^Batman: Under the Red Hood(2010)/Batman: A Death in the Family(2020): UTRD focuses on Jason Todd, the second person to wear the Robin mantle. It gives a good gist of his story-line; both him before and after Robin, as well as the complicated emotions Bruce has surrounding the situation. DITF is a sequel without being a sequel. It goes through the different endings that could have played out for Jason from the UTRH storyline.

*/^ Son of Batman(2014): This one introduces Damian Wayne (the fifth and current Robin), Bruce's biological son. It goes over Damian's introduction as well as the rocky start that he and Bruce had as well as his eventual acceptance of the Robin mantel. Also features my boy Nightwing who is in full sass mode the entire movie and I love that for him.

*/^ Teen Titans: The Judas Contract(2017): Based off the comic storyline of the same name from the 90's, this follows the Teen Titans as they welcome in a new meta by the name of Terra, who unbeknownst to them is working with one of their greatest enemies. This storyline is an extremely pivotal point in the history of the Teen Titans. It has been included in just about every Teen Titans media and is still referenced in the comics to this day. If you are unable to get access to the OG comic's this is a very good substitute. (It is also key to the history of Nightwing and Beastboy themselves)

Nightwing: The Series (2014): Apparently there is a stand alone Nightwing mini series?????? I had no idea this existed until I had to look up the date of one of the shows. I can give you absolutely nothing about it cause, yeah, I didn't even know it was a thing.

Comics:

A Knight in Bludhaven (1996-2009): This was Nightwing's debut standalone comic. He had originally debuted in the New Teen Titans as Nightwing (or Discowing as he is affectionally know as) however he was still a Titan at that point. This run is by Chuck Dixon and follows Dick as he leaves Gotham and Bruce's ever present shadow for Bludhaven; an equally crime-riddled city. This run see's his suit move into the iconic look he wears now. It also showcases his crumbling relationship with Bruce, him trying desperately to strike out on his own, and a lot of self-loathing internal monologue. (From what I understand, as I haven't read it yet, he spends a good majority of the time being passively suicidal)

(His newest standalone run started in 2017 (I believe) and is still ongoing.)

The Judas Contract (1984): Like stated above this follows the introduction of Terra and her conflict with the Teen Titans. It is only about 6 volumes, starting with her introduction, joining and becoming friends with the team, and the eventual betrayal. Even though it is such a short arc compared to others, it has had a lasting impression on the Teen Titans as a whole as well as Beastboy as a person. This storyline has made it's way into several modern day Titan adaptations (ie the 2003 Teen Titans, The Judas Contract movie stated above). It also has the official debut of Nightwing. Prior to the Judas Contract arc Dick was still using his Robin mantel; however, after a huge fight and subsequent falling out with Bruce he don's his new superhero identity as Nightwing. (everyone's outfits are very of it's time, especially Nightwings)

Robin: Year One (2000): This one I've heard mixed reviews about, but I'm still putting it in. It's a miniseries that tells of the origin of Dick; his parents deaths, becoming Bruce's ward, becoming Robin and the rocky relationship that he and Bruce had at the start. It's a good all-in-one-place telling that goes over a lot of key points of him as Robin and his early days with Bruce as well as the debut of the Dynamic Duo. (This one is also written by Chuck Dixon)

A Death in the Family (1988): This arc follows Jason Todd as Robin. It is a key point not just in the Batman universe, but comics as a whole. (Jason was the first superhero to die. And he stayed dead for like 20yrs) I only know brief info about it, but this particular run follows the events that lead to Jason dying at the hands of the Joker.

Tales of the New Teen Titans (1984): This one is a 4 issue series telling the origin of the 4 newest members of the Teen Titans: Raven, Starfire, Beastboy and Cyborg. I'm putting this one in cause my boy Beastboy is in there, but it's also good insight to have into these characters who are still a part of the Teen Titans in one form or another since their debut. (This is written by Marv Wolfman and drawn by George Perez who can be created with the creation of many superheros that still exist and are popular to this day)

Sorry for the info dump anon; you hit my hyperfixaton with a tuning fork and therefore I must sing. For the media part I only included the ones I've seen that would be beneficial or ones that I know have important information. For comics, there is definitely a lot more that can be included, but unfortunately for us comic runs are incredibly hard to follow (that's why up until recently I haven't really touched them lmao). Comics could be a whole separate post lol I can't really include anything else for the other batkids, but that is only due to me not 100% knowing their comic runs (and them not really appearing in animated media). I know Tim Drake is a key player in the Young Justice 2003(?) run, but other than that I don't have a lot of info. Unfortunately, comics are hard to find their starting point as they often cross over into other active series, or alternatively are older and therefore harder to gain access to. My best advice it to pick a singular series and look into how to get your hands on it. A lot of the time the older comic will be published in complete volumes. A Knight in Bludhaven: Compendium One is exactly that. The collection of the 1996 Nightwing run, as well as any tie in issues that it had. I know that the earlier issues of the 2017 Nightwing run is starting to come out in bound volumes as well. The only ones that would be hard to find are the one's from the 80's. If you have one, check out your local comic book store! That's where I've picked up some of my issues, and they have been extremely helpful in answering my questions and have helped me figure out the starting point for a few different series.

There's also is not a lot of Beastboy standalone stuff (beside I think one or two comics) because he's always with the Titans as their goofy, comic relief >:(

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

a/n: this is honestly my favorite chapter. when i imagine feminine rage, i imagine a room full of glass shattering. in the same breath, absolute agony and pain feeding the rage is just ugh poetic as hell

part 21: in sadness, she walks (in silence, she screams)

word count: 1,859 tag: @bruhidkjustwannaread | @rubyxx16 | @bellabarnes1378 | @johnmurphys-sass

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The tension in the room was thick as Arthur stood by the mantle at Arrow House, swirling the whiskey in his glass. You sat stiffly on the sofa, hands clenched in your lap. Tommy leaned over the sofa just beside you like he wanted to make sure you were ready for whatever you were about to hear. He watched Arthur with an unblinking stare. Michael and Finn sat at a small table with their hands in their pockets. John perched on the arm of a chair, while Polly stood by the window, her expression unreadable.

Arthur hadn’t spoken yet, letting the weight of his silence build. Your gaze was fixed on the floor, your usual composure showing cracks that only those close to you would notice.

“You’d best start talkin’, Arthur,” John finally said, breaking the silence.

Arthur sighed, setting his glass down with a heavy thud. “Made a trip to London yesterday,” he said, his voice rough. He didn’t look at you as he began. Instead, he stared into the fire, as though the flames could help him piece the story together.

“Went to see Ezra's father, Frank,” Arthur continued. “Man’s been livin’ in his own little hell since Ezra died. Grief’ll do that to you, you know that. He told me what happened that night. Why he told y/n to leave.”

Your eyes snapped up to Arthur, but you didn't speak.

He turned to face you, his gaze steady but filled with something softer than pity. “He said... an old family friend—a man he trusted named Alfred Bingham told him that you pushed Ezra too far. That you were the reason he had the seizure.”

You stared at Arthur, but he saw the shadow of those old accusations in your eyes.

“And he believed him,” Arthur said, his voice quieter. “Frank believed every bloody word.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

“Bingham twisted him up good,” Arthur went on. “But Frank wasn’t just angry at you. He was angry at himself. At Ezra. At the whole damn situation. I think all of us in this room know that sometimes we will find any reason to blame anyone but ourselves. We also know, all too well, that when we grieve... We make terrible decisions. I think, now, Mr. Hargreaves knows the weight of his mistake.”

Tommy’s voice cut through the quiet like a blade. “What about Ezra?”

Arthur’s gaze shifted to Tommy, and his expression darkened. “Spoke to the doctor who was there when it happened. He said Ezra had a moment where he came out of it. He was awake but weak. And then he said,” Arthur hesitated, then looked back at you. “In his last moments, he asked for you. Said your name, not out of anger—out of love.”

The room went still. You didn’t move, didn’t speak. It was as if Arthur’s words had frozen you in place. Polly took a step closer, concern etched into her face, but you raised a hand to stop her.

Arthur pressed on. “He wanted to say goodbye. Poor bastard must've known his time was up. Ezra loved you, y/n. Right to the end. And the doctor made it clear—saw it with my own eyes that even he remembered what the room felt like. He felt Ezra's desperation for you. None of this was your fault.”

Then, with an abruptness that startled even Tommy, you stood. The sofa scraped against the floor, the sound jarring in the heavy silence.

“Is that all?” you asked, your voice unnervingly calm.

Arthur frowned. “y/n—”

“Is that all?” you repeated, louder this time. You didn't wait for a response as you headed towards the door.

“y/n,” Polly called after you, concern laced in her voice.

Finn stepped forward, but you slammed the door, the echo reverberating through the room. Tommy placed his hand on Finn's shoulder with a squeeze, silently telling him to stay there.

Tommy sighed, tossing his cigarette into an ashtray. “I’ll handle it.”

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The cold air hit you like a slap, but you barely noticed. You marched into the gardens, your breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts. Your hands trembled as she gripped the edge of your blouse, your knuckles turning white as you twisted and tore at the fabric.

This was what it felt like—of the many moments where you thought the walls were caving in, this was so much worse. It wasn't just the walls. The air turned to ash and soot gathering at the bottom of your lungs until breathing turned painful. Hornets crawled up your neck, a thousand pricks of memories—of moments you wasted feeling nothing. The firm hand of guilt, the hand of what you thought was an old friend, turned into a cruel stranger, ready to squeeze your throat until you screamed.

Tommy found you seconds later, his footsteps soft against the gravel. He stayed back for a moment, watching as you struggled to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven movements.

“y/n,” he said gently, approaching you cautiously.

“Don’t,” you snapped, your voice shrill and unsteady. You held up your head in a silent threat. “Don’t come any closer.”

Tommy ignored you, stepping closer. “You’re having a panic attack,” he said calmly. “Breathe. Slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

“Don't fucking touch me!” you wailed, eyes shutting tight as you shook your head. “I can’t… Tommy, I—”

“Use it,” he said firmly, his hand settling on your shoulder.

“What the hell does that even mean?” you snapped.

“Use it,” he repeated, his tone sharper. “The anger. The guilt. The sadness. All of it. Stop fucking fighting it, and use it.”

You shook your head violently again, turning away from him. “You don’t understand. You don’t—”

“Use it,” Tommy interrupted, his voice cutting through your resistance.

Your chest tightened. You opened your eyes, gleaming with tears and bloodshot scars “I can’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“You can,” he said, stepping closer again.

Your body trembled, your defenses cracking under the weight of his words. You felt the rage and grief clawing their way to the surface, demanding to be acknowledged.

But you resisted. “No,” you whispered, shaking your head again, you voice tight and strained.

“You have to. Or it's never going to stop.”

Tommy's words shattered the last of your control. You could only think to describe what happened next as a window shattering—but not from a bullet. It was a grenade. First the glass, and then the explosion, a room engulfed in blue flames. Only in this case, you didn't know if you were the window or the grenade.

A raw, guttural scream tore from your throat, the sound ripping through the still night air. You bent over to expel every last drip of sound from your lungs, your hands clawing at your chest as if trying to tear the pain out of your body. Your legs gave out, but Tommy was there before you could hit the ground. He caught you, his arms steady and unrelenting, holding you as you sobbed.

The anger poured out of you in waves—screams that dissolved into gasping sobs, your fists pounding weakly against Tommy’s chest before falling limp. Through it all, Tommy stayed silent, solid as a rock, his presence grounding you as you let the storm rage on.

When the last of your screams faded into quiet, broken breaths, you sagged against him, your face buried in his coat. You trembled in his arms, exhausted and empty.

“I didn’t mourn him,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not properly. I couldn’t. I—I was too angry. Too guilty. It hurt too much, so I just… locked it all away.”

Tommy crouched beside you, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. “And now it’s catching up with you.”

You nodded, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his coat. “I didn’t let myself feel it. Not any of it. And now…” You let out a bitter laugh.

“And now, you let it go,” Tommy said without hesitation. “You felt it all at once. Now, it's time.”

You looked at him, eyes swimming with tears. “You sound like you're speaking from experience.”

“I’ve carried guilt like that,” Tommy said simply. “And I know it doesn’t do anyone any good—not you, not him. Ezra wanted you to live. He wanted you safe. That’s why he called for you.”

You let out a shaky breath, your face dropping into your hands. For a long moment, you said nothing, the only sound the distant rustle of leaves in the wind.

Finally, you looked up at him, your expression raw and vulnerable. “What now?”

“Now, you live,” Tommy said softly. “In whatever way you know how.”

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

Arthur stood by the door, his eyes flitting between you and Tommy, silently taking in the way you stayed together on the ground, intertwined and coiled together. There was an unspoken rhythm between you, a quiet understanding that spoke volumes. Arthur knew Tommy well—had for years—and even though Tommy’s shoulders were tense and his jaw tight, there was something unshakable in his face. The way his eyes never left you when you spoke. The way the tension in his body began to melt, slowly, at your presence.

Michael, leaning against the far wall, let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He watched you two more than he wanted to. You weren’t just with Tommy—you were in Tommy’s world, with all its grit, its violence, its uncertainty. And Tommy welcomed you with open arms. It was clear to Michael now, more than it had ever been, that you weren't someone Tommy was willing to lose. You were something else to him, something deeper than any of them had fully grasped.

Even John, who had seen more of Tommy than anyone, felt the shift. He wasn’t close enough to hear the words exchanged between you two, but he’d watched the way Tommy held your gaze, the intensity in it. And when you moved closer, the fraction of space between them closing in a way that wasn’t about proximity—it was about something felt through a means other than touch. He saw Tommy’s chest rise and fall, almost like a man finally able to breathe after being suffocated for far too long.

Arthur crossed his arms, his gaze hardening slightly as he considered the way the two of you were. “Christ, they're something else,” he murmured, mostly to himself, though Michael nodded in quiet agreement. He didn’t need to say more; the two of them had been through a lot, together and apart. Arthur understood the weight that came with being part of Tommy’s world, but this—this was something else entirely.

“They’re bound by more than blood and money,” Michael said, his voice low. “I don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be able to keep it under wraps. She’s... everything to him. And she knows it.”

Polly slowly walked up to the door, standing between Arthur and Michael. There was a melancholy smile on her face as she looked out to you and Tommy.

"That's love, gentleman," she nodded to Michael. "It's not blood and money. That, right there, is the willing, equal exchange of power between a King and his Queen. They share the throne. And God help any man who tries to take that away from them."

[yeah-sure-amanda]

Who is John Sugden?

Like everyone else, my blog has risen from the grave at the first sight of Robert showing back up in Emmerdale. I have been watching Emmerdale quietly from afar while I went full-blown Corrie fan for a while (sniff Paul double sniff), but Robert's return has brought me back into the fold. It also got me watching Emmerdale again while I play catch-up. Britbox has had mid-February to current days so I have been watching.

However, there are some that stayed around and continue to watch. Commenting on the show. Commenting on Aaron and John. This new, long-lost Sugden appeared in 2024. I've been reading through those posts and my brain woke up and started wondering. Formulating.

What is up with John Sugden?

This question occurred to me when I came across a post that provided a general timeline of what had been happening with Aaron since 2021. As I was reading it, John just appearing jumped out at me. So, I took a deeper look and looked up his journey. Read up a little.

I keep hearing that the John/Aaron romance plot is very much a watered-down version of Robert/Aaron's romance, minus a few factors, but the signs are there. Doesn't it all seem targeted? Like, John needed to hit certain things to get there with Aaron, Victoria and be accepted into the village. Maybe he planned a few chance meetings and the rest he just got lucky but he has seemly filled right into Robert's role (minus the sass and general personality...other than angry...John is very angry). He just slotted himself in and even Robert kind of commented on it. Everyone is just going with it.

It's weird. No? I am missing a lot of information (obviously) but it triggered an idea in my brain.

What if Jack did know about John and rejected him. To get back at Jack (who is long dead...obvi) he decides he is going to be part of the Sugden family, through Robert.

This line keeps standing out to me.

"How did you know?"

"I checked the socials..."

I feel like Robert is the type to put EVERYTHING up on his social media. Aaron might put up cars or pictures of family members, but generally not good with the social media thing. Robert on the other hand, always felt like a 'look at my husband! Look at my kid! We said yes with a picture of the layby in the background with a description below" What I'm saying is Robert is an emotionally slutty person and after years of hiding things, is very open about it now. Proud to share. Which is how John learned the finer details of the Robert and Aaron relationship. Was about to recreate certain things he learned about via Robert's social media.

So, John Sugden comes in with Aaron, which gets the Dingles on board, which in turn brings in Victoria, and then the entire village. He has the life Robert had and is accepted, screw you dad. John now has the final say. He has the control to exist. However, he needs to keep things up and running and continue that so hence the murders and hurting people, to save them. Continue to assert acceptance in the village. He is a hero!

What he didn't expect was Robert Sugden being Robert Sugden and showing up. He is going to fight again for that life again. Robert has already clocked that something off...

What does he know? Obviously, if he knew more, he would have said it but Robert was being a bit...elsusive. Yes, he was messy and very 'heart on sleeve' but he didn't bring up the kiss to John (which normally he would have) and he was trying his hardest to stop this wedding. Other than wanting Aaron...he knows something is wrong with this guy? This half brother. Another brother that the village accepts over him.

It could be part of a bigger story of the Sugden family. Robert's ever lasting goal of just being accepted by family and the place he called home. John getting all that and Aaron? Something weird about that.

OR

This means nothing. They were setting up a love story for Aaron and just decided to have some fun with certain things, hoping fans wouldn't notice (they did by the way), and when Ryan signed back up....something changed drastically. I hope the show makes it messy and twisty and a lot of fun to watch as we get closer and closer to that Robron reunion. Lets get an affair 2.0 in there (Robert as the other man for once). Let's get some jealousy, secrets, and then having to save each other. OR give Robert his own story where Aaron is in the background (because...come on...they will always be in the background of each other's stories) but Robert gets to interact with new and old characters as he sets up his life again. I'm team give Robert a best friend that won't turn so easily on him. Victoria needs to not be his best friend. She isn't consistent. (LOL)

Either way, this has made my brain go into hyperdrive with possibilities for stories and it was been so much fun thinking of this instead of *gestures off* everything else. Excited to see what comes next and I'll be watching! (I'm almost caught up so, let the fun begin!)

(Side note: I'm still laughing at Joe STEALING A KIDNEY AND EVERYONE IS LIKE...COOL. LETS TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DID TO NOAH. WHAT ABOUT CALEB?!?! I don't see the point of Joe right now and I still adore Jimmy and I have a crush on Mack.)

*Whew...that was fun! Lets do this again sometime!*

[darkforestpetalkit]

Considering what we learned about Thistleclaw in Spottedleaf's Heart, Petalkit is probably in for the worst of the whole experience in this AU, huh?

First of all, I'd like to address one thing before we begin:

Spottedleaf's Heart does NOT happen in my AU. That vile book is utter trash and horribly written. I do not acknowledge that disgusting piece of garbage as canon, and I never will.

So whatever was learned from Spottedleaf's Heart? Toss it into the sun. Leave it forgotten and burned out of existence.

Now that’s out of the way, onto your question! Is Petalkit in for the worst of the whole experience in this AU?

Nope. Not really.

Sure, his training is intense, unforgiving, and unfairly brutal. But Petalkit isn’t the one on the short end of the stick. Far from! Despite the grueling experience of being Thistleclaw’s apprentice, the real nightmare is for him.

CW: Mentions of abuse, manipulation, and violence

Petalkit talks back, hits back, and isn’t afraid of him. She refuses. She’s too strong-willed, bold, defiant, and sharp to be intimidated into submission.

As far as she’s concerned, after being betrayed by every adult in her life (Oakstar, Ravenwing, Frecklewish, Appledusk, the entire Clan), authority means absolutely nothing to her. She’s already almost drowned and lost her family. So what could be worse than that?

Yes, Thistleclaw manipulates her emotions by feeding into her hatred for ThunderClan and the Warrior Code using tailored words and her anger to drive her further for his own gain. But she doesn’t make it easy for him. She’s stubborn, resistant and rebellious in ways he didn’t expect her to push back.

Does he try to beat her into submission because he’s an abusive asshole? Yes.

Does physical punishment work on her? Absolutely not.

She doesn’t cower, just gets angry and retaliates. If he hits her, she hits back. Hard. He pushes. She shoves.

Does she listen sometimes and relies on him as a guiding figure? Is she highly impressionable? Absolutely, but on her own terms. She often finds loopholes and outmaneuvers him with full out sass. She's Mapleshade's daughter afterall.

The only reason Thistleclaw hasn’t outright killed or maimed her is because she’s Mapleshade’s daughter and too valuable to give up. And to Thistleclaw’s frustration, she’s actually thriving and excelling under his training. She still trusts him enough to follow his directions and is dependent on him—just not in the way he'd like. Thistleclaw can’t help but begrudgingly respect her unbreakable spirit.

He can mold her, but he can’t break her.

So if anyone is being bullied, it’s Thistleclaw. Lol

I think you’d really enjoy the "Thistleclaw’s Bullying" tag I have! You can see some of Petalkit’s sass in action!

Thanks for the ask!