#you all know i wanted to deal with some story stuff before children

[girl-named-matty]

Little morning - Life after Hogwarts

synopsis ✧ Being a parent wasn't exactly easy and Sebastian found that out the hard way after the birth of his first son--who was now two-years-old and they were also expecting another. But regardless, he loved being a father. But the biggest problem with having a pregnant wife? A little toddler who just so happens to be a big mummy's boy that tries to wake her up at any chance he gets.

tags ✧ Fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, like so much fluff you guys. Talks of pregnancy and babies (ofc), toddlers (thats a warning in itself haha), marriage, just all the domestic cutesy stuff we all love. .

word count ✧ 1.6k

a/n ✧ Just some random cute idea I got and I have been ITCHING to write Seb and Matty as parents. You've probably seen my other posts about their kids when they are older but I really wanted to do some of the younger stuff as well because the baby fever is strong rn and I need a outlet LOL.🥺 Hope you enjoy! xoxo

Sebastian Sallow severely underestimated how difficult being a parent would be and just how much sleep he would lose by being one as well. Sure, he knew kids were difficult, and his wife had told him countless stories of the kids she had nannied or worked with who were difficult, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the real deal.

Little Eleazar was just past two years old by now, and yes, he was an abnormally well-behaved child; he still was a toddler, and well—toddlers did toddler things.

But despite the lack of sleep, the rough days, and the struggle of learning how to be a first-time parent, it was all worth it. They loved their little boy, and they loved him just the way he was.

And apparently it was “so worth” it enough that Matty was now pregnant with their second child. Or at least in Sebastian’s words, it was “so worth” having another. Matty had always wanted a couple of children, so she was up for having a second, but Sebastian was definitely the one who pushed the idea to have another.

Hence why she was now seven months pregnant and dealing with a toddler. But thankfully, Sebastian was a very hands-on and involved dad, and it made it all so much easier. He was an amazing husband and father. (She couldn’t lie and say that wasn’t the reason why she considered a second.)

It was nearing seven am when Sebastian, who was half asleep, heard the little pitter-patter of footsteps nearing the bedroom door. They had moved Ele into a different room a couple of months ago so he could get used to sleeping without Mum and Dad, especially once the new baby was around. But almost every morning, like clockwork, he managed to climb out of his crib and sneak off to Mum and Dad's room.

Sebastian, immediately knowing who it was, sat up and rubbed his eyes. The little footsteps stopped right at the door, which meant the door needed to be opened. Eleazar wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the door handle and turn it, so usually Sebastian would have to do it himself since he was the first one up.

He could practically hear his son pouting on the other side of the door, so he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake up Matty, who was still peacefully sleeping.

He walked over to the door before opening it, looking down at his son. “Well, good morning,” he said, his voice still gravelly.

Eleazar quickly put his hands up, babbling a little to let his dad know that he wanted to be picked up. Sebastian leaned down and grabbed the little boy up in his arms. “You’re two years old; you gotta start using your words, buddy.” He softly encouraged. But it seemed like Ele was too tired to speak anyway since he was rubbing his eyes the moment he was up in his father's arms.

Sebastian sat back down in bed, Eleazar placed in between him and Matty. “If you’re going to be here, you gotta go back to sleep.” He said, trailing his knuckle against his son's chubby cheeks. Of course, he was only saying this to try and get more sleep himself, but when did toddlers ever listen to anybody?

Instead, Eleazar turned around, seeing that his mother was in bed. “Mummy,” he babbled with a big smile, crawling over to where she was sleeping.

Sebastian’s heart almost jumped out of his chest as he had to quickly grab his son and pull him away from his mother in order for him not to wake her up. She definitely needed more sleep. “Wait, wait, no, we can’t go to Mummy right now, okay? Mummy is sleeping.” Sebastian tried to explain.

However, Eleazar did not like being told no. Especially when it came to his mummy. The corner of his lips curled down, forming a little frown, and by the way his little bottom lip quivered, Sebastian could quickly tell that he was going to start crying.

Panicking a little more, Sebastian quickly grabbed the little boy up in his arms. “Hey, hey, it's okay.” He soothed. “We just can’t wake up Mummy right now; she’s resting.”

He knew Eleazar couldn’t understand a lick of what he was saying, but he hoped the tone of his voice would help calm him down. “Mummy is very tired, and she has little brother or sister to deal with too, okay?” He continued. “I can assure you that definitely isn’t easy.” He half mumbled under his breath with a chuckle. But that was more for his own amusement than an explanation.

Ele didn’t cry, but he looked up at his father with his big blue eyes that he had inherited from his mother, a pout still on his face. “Mummy.” He repeated, this time more determined.

Sebastian sighed, shifting to where he was now lying down with the child in his arms. “Mummy is asleep. Which is what you should be doing right now too. You’re still so young to be waking up this early.”

“No.”

Sebastian sighed again. He hated the fact that usually one of the first five words for children was usually no. It was helpful when they could communicate what they wanted, but it also happened to become their favorite word very quickly. Saying no to everything mummy or daddy needed them to do.

“Yes.”

“Mm-hm.” Eleazar shook his head, clearly conveying that he was saying no.

“What am I going to do with you?” He chuckled, pinching his son's cheeks.

But luckily for the both of them, Matty shifted a little, signaling that she was indeed finally awake. Ele quickly looked behind him, seeing his mother begin to wake up. A big smile instantly appeared on his face, and he slipped out of his dad's arms and immediately crawled over to his mother. He was a big mummy’s boy and always wanted to be with her.

When Matty felt two little hands on her arms, she chuckled, opening her eyes. “Good morning, sweetheart,” she said sweetly, the sleep still obvious in her voice.

Eleazar immediately plopped his full body weight onto his mother, giving her a big hug. She laughed, giving him a hug back before sitting up. She looked over at Sebastian and then back down to her son. “Something tells me you’ve been giving your father a little bit of a hard time.” She said, poking her son's little tummy.

“I’ll say,” Sebastian muttered. “Little bugger tried to wake you up the moment he got into bed.”

Matty smiled. “He just loves his mummy,” she cooed, shifting little Ele so she could have him comfortably against her.

Raising a toddler and being pregnant definitely wasn’t easy, but to Matty, it was worth it in the long run. Not all mornings did she wake up as nicely as she did now, but these mornings definitely helped and made up for the bad days.

“Well, thank you for letting me sleep in a little longer.” She said to Sebastian before leaning in for a quick good morning kiss from him. Sebastian smiled into the kiss, enjoying the attention from his wife. Sometimes that was scarce between work and raising a baby, so he was always loving any attention he got from her.

Meanwhile, little Ele was looking at his mother's belly, still wondering what on earth was going on there. It started to frustrate him that he could no longer sit on his mummy’s lap, but he slightly understood the concept of having another new little sibling that was seemingly “in mummy’s tummy” and that it was a baby.

Matty looked down and chuckled. “Say hi to the baby, Ele.” She urged.

Eleazar didn’t say anything, but he did wave, thinking that his little brother or sister could see him do so. Matty giggled a little bit at her son's expression, and she leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. “In just a little bit you’ll have a new brother or sister, and it’s gonna be sooo fun,” she said.

“Sleepless nights and screaming babies are an interesting thing to consider fun.” Sebastian joked sarcastically.

“Remind me whose idea it was to have a second?” Matty said, raising her brow at her husband. She knew he was just joking, but she did like to poke fun at him because, after all, it was his idea to have another baby once Eleazar was a little older.

“It was mine, and I’ll totally own up to that.” He chuckled, pulling his wife close to him. “And I can’t wait to have another. Anything from you is a complete blessing, and I’m lucky to have you and our children.”

Matty smiled and leaned her head against his chest. She had married the right man, that’s for sure. And boy did she love him.

“I hope it’s a girl,” Sebastian mumbled into her neck.

“Don’t want another little boy?” She chuckled, looking at him with a raised brow.

Sebastian shrugged. “I’ll be happy either way. I just want a healthy baby. But since we have a boy already, I think it’d be nice to have a sweet little girl. Beautiful and intelligent, just like her mother.” He said, giving Matty a little squeeze.

“And here I thought you wanted a little mini-you.” Matty said.

“Oh trust me, I do.” Sebastian replied. “But who's to say that a little girl can’t be my mini-me? We can get into all sorts of trouble together.”

“Mhm, right. Not on my watch.” Matty joked with a laugh.

“Worth a shot.” Sebastian grinned.

I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you so much for reading! 🥺❤️

[aurorangen]

Lunch with Uncle Billy and Josh and sharing the big news with them!

After lunch, Renee talked about cases with Billy. She was in the early weeks of pregnancy and her work routine was pretty much the same! Renee asked if she was allowed access to the Strangerville archives to read about. At times, she thinks about Veronica and Strangerville. There were too many unanswered questions about the dangerous place and she wonders if she will ever see Veronica again. "I'll check with the director, I don't see why not," Billy replied.

[cer-rata]

An incomplete but very angry diatribe about the missed potential of the Star Sapphires

So back in the day Geoff Johns and co decided to open up the Green Lantern mythos and add some more flavor and expand the concept of sci-fi tech powered by elemental emotion to more than just willpower. Which yes, is not an emotion, we ignore it and move on.

Anyway we got some really cool stuff! A rage tyrant fueled by experiencing incredible injustice on a personal and cosmic scale, whose vendetta twisted him into something terrible. An avatar of greed who was never allowed to have anything, not freedom, not family, not safety, who takes and takes and takes to fill a void that can never be satisfied. A priest who lost everything but presses on through his unshakable hope that the future can and will be better. It's a lot of fun stuff!

So in this great creative re-imagining, they had to do something clever and fun with the idea of an all female corps powered by love right? They took the opportunity to move past the purely romantic, sexual idea of love and the obsessed femme fatale archetype, because they had the chance to really explore different types of affection now that there were a bunch of different avatars with different stories to pull from right?

Right?

Nope! The only Sapphires we ever learn about are heartbroken over a cursed romance like Carol, grieving a dead fiance like Miri Riam, forcibly mind controlled to be one like Fatality, or just Miss Bloss who...kind of said she wanted to join up? No clue what her deal is, as far as I'm aware that's never really explained. And then we just never learn about anyone else, and still haven't. The hell is "The Lost Sapphire"? No idea, we'll likely never know.

It's frustrating because not only is this a glaring example of the depth of plotlines offered to women in comics compared to their male counterparts, but also a wild lack of imagination. Love is one of the most complicated emotions we experience. Fear, anger, hope, all pretty easy to quickly define. Love is multifaceted, cultural, incredibly contextual and a factor in so many different kinds of relationship. Just thinking logically it should be much easier to flesh out the motivations of a group pulling from such a nuanced source of power, versus something as clear-cut as rage. But no, the red lanterns got so many varied reasons for their rage, the male ones especially: Bleez being the woman was of course given the SA narrative, which I don't think is inappropriate on its own, that's an incredibly valid reason to be angry, but as the ONLY truly prominent female Red Lantern it's like...c'mon guys. But still, at least she and Atrocitus had different reasons for becoming what they are, and that variation was played for plot and drama.

But there's not a single Star Sapphire that personally champions something other than romantic love. And before you shoot me, it is explicitly mentioned that they DO protect other forms of love, so there's no reason for them to all be sexy and obsessed with kissing people. There are no Sapphires that are driven by:

The love of their children and families, even in a tragic sense, like Atrocitus and Saint Walker and Larfleez are...

Their love of their people, or their culture. It would have been interesting if Fatality was inducted BECAUSE of her pain at losing her world, but no, they just...replaced her anger with lovey vibes and called it a day.

Their love for nature. Not everyone is social, but social love isn't the only way to strongly experience the emotion.

Their love for themselves. Where is the fun narcissistic ass who loves their own self image to the point of getting powers? It would have been a fun twist and a cool way to get another villainous Sapphire if you wanted to.

Their platonic love of ANYTHING really. Are ace/aro people just...not capable of love then? It doesn't mean anything to be willing to drive cross country to help a friend move just because they needed it and you care? No? You need to be fucking for it to count?

It's like...fascinating if you really think about it. In this vast fantasy universe full of alien races with wildly different perceptions and life cycles, and where the other corps have plenty of non-human, truly alien looking members, that the women's only love corps is full of only hot hot scantily clad baddies. Most love that people experience in their lives isn't even romantic! You will have far more experiences with friends and family members and even loving strangers than you will have with romantic partners.

Like the reason is clearly sexism, duh, but we know sexism is bad, that's obvious, what I really want to make clear is how much this blatant, unexplored sexism just completely desecrated the potential of the worldbuilding here.

From another angle even: Let's say this this WAS the sex and romance all the time corps. Let's say that you wanted to keep it all women. I hate the idea that women are capable of love in a way that men aren't, that's such a bad take and just regressive and unhelpful, but let's just play ball for a moment. They're not even hot? Their designs are such ridiculously narrow versions of feminine attractiveness that they're not even successful at really being mass appeal sexy. I haven't even reached the point of complaining about the fatphobia and criminal lack of different body types yet, I'm still just saying that from the standpoint of fantasy sexy it's not even good at being stereotypical offensive fantasy sexy. It's just boring! They're all so visually boring! You can be scantily clad and still have an interesting and coherent character design! But that is not what they gave these women! They actually redesigned the classic Star Sapphire costume and made it MORE sexist and boring:

Yeah it was cheesy but it was also cute and fun? The design is playful classic sci-fi girl and this is when she was still a dangerous unhinged villain. Its fun to look at and feels tonally coherent next to Green Lantern.

And then they just...

No actually, I will not explain this one, you have eyes.

And yeah they fixed her costume finally,

But! She's still stuck as Hal Jordan's romantic punching bag, and has not gotten to have any new adventures on her own.

So.

What I'm saying is it's a flop all around. 2/10, and only because despite everything Fatality STILL managed to serve. I actually think that all of the corps have been poorly used since blackest night, even the greens actually, but they never even gave the Sapphires a chance. They last showed up in...a WW annual I think? During the whole dark gods event, they needed Diana to help them fight the evil god of love, and there was a guy in the corp finally, and they talked about sisterhood and then we haven't heard a peep from them since. I think Carol might be due to get her ring back in the GL ongoing but she's not really been treated well so far, so I'm not hopeful for anything fresh and well reasoned.

So my lovely ladies (and that one unnamed guy), until they let you get it together it may be time to

[thetriumphantpanda]

close to you | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Nine

Chapter Summary | A week of not hearing from Javi since he ran out has you tearing your hair out, so you throw yourself into your work as a distraction, with catastrophic consequences.

Chapter Warnings | mentions of drugs and the drug trade, alcohol consumption, threatening language, violence, blood, descriptions of a head injury and concussion, Javier Peña to the rescue, soft!Javi.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Authors Note | I am forever appreciative of how patient you guys are for updates of this series! Thank you for hanging in there whilst my muse and creativity ebbs and flows, I love you all! We're getting towards the conclusion of this little story, with only a few chapters left so I hope you guys are still enjoying this! If you are enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

You wonder when staring at the work in front of you might actually yield something worth writing about. It’s all you’ve done since you picked up this stupid story and decided to chase it. Staring at the pages on your desk has become all the more common in the week since Javi ran out on you. He’s avoided your calls to his phone, you’ve not seen him around town, and the one time you decided to call the house, Chucho answered and with the most sincere voice you’d ever heard, told you he wasn’t in but that he promised he’d ask him to call you when he got back. That had been two days ago, so you’d practically given up all hope of ever hearing from him again.

For the first couple of days, you’d cursed yourself, wondering why you’d kept any of that stuff in the first place. Newspaper clippings and annotated notes about everything he and his team had done in Colombia. You didn’t need it anymore, thesis done, completed, and with a better mark than you could ever have hoped for. But until you’d seen him in the flesh, knew he was back for good and safe in Texas, it was the only way to feel close to him. Stupid for sure. But then the anger had set in - he’d no right to rifle through your drawers, pick up your notebooks and thumb through them. The barrage of different emotions was hard to deal with, and at the very base level, you missed him, you wanted him back, and you wanted to explain everything to him - that’s incredibly hard when he won’t answer his fucking phone though.

Turning your attention back to your work, you try and focus. You’ve met dead end after dead end with this stupid story and there really is only one place left for you to go. If it’s not Tyler then it has to be someone else in the family that’s involved. You can’t imagine it’s head of the family, so that really only leaves Tyler’s brother. It might be stupid and you might make a terrible enemy out of the mayor’s family, but there’s something else going on here and whatever it is, you’re going to get to the bottom of it, no matter how.

You can still never get over the size of the Johnson family home. Richard and his wife had two sons, one their pride, the other, not so much, but if you looked at their house, you’d think they had at least twelve children. No family needed this many rooms, you think, as you walk up the driveway.

It’s the early afternoon and you can see Garrett’s car parked in front of the house. Tyler will be at work, as will Richard, and you’re pretty sure their mother is never at home. You don’t really know what it is she does, but it’s some form of charitable work that involves travelling more than it does time at home.

You take a deep breath and ring the bell, waiting the appropriate amount of time before ringing it again. It’s a huge house after all, it must take a while to get from anywhere to the front door. A few seconds later, the door opens, and Garrett is stood in front of you, dressed in dress pants and a shirt that has the arms rolled up to the elbows. He smiles at you and opens the door a bit wider, invites you in - it’s much warmed than the reception you got from his brother.

“Lovely to see you,” He smiles, guiding you through the foyer and into the kitchen, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Water would be great, thank you.” You smile back, waiting for him to put a glass in front of you, topped up with water and fresh ice.

“I assume you’re here from the paper?” He asks, leaning cooly against the kitchen counter.

“That’s right,” You nod, sipping at the water, “Has Tyler spoken to you recently?”

Garrett shakes his head, “No, I haven’t seen him in a few weeks actually.”

You hum, nodding your head, thankful that you have the upper hand of surprise still - that this part of the family don’t know you’re sniffing around looking for a reason that one of their houses was used as some form of drug den.

“How have you been since Dylan died?” You ask, “I know you were really good friends.”

It’s a question that makes sense, they were very good friends, and although it’s been a while, you’re hoping your feigned concern for his mental welfare might make him open up.

“It’s been hard,” He starts, “He was my best friend, and to suddenly not have him around anymore…” He trails off, “I miss him.”

You nod, hoping the look of concern you think you’ve got across your face is projecting enough to make him feel like he can trust you.

“Was he the reason your dad has started being heavier with drugs in town?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Garrett nods, “He saw how fucked up it made me to lose my friend and decided enough was enough, that someone needed to do something to fix the trouble we’ve been having in town for years.”

There’s another nod from you, “Makes sense,” You offer, “Not really working very well though, is it?”

“These things take time.” He offers, in that perfectly practiced politician way that they always answer things.

“Look, I’m gonna cut to the chase Garrett,” You sigh, “That house in town that got raided recently? We’ve been looking into it and it all leads back to you, to your family, and it doesn’t matter who I ask, no-one knows why that place was being used as a drug den, but someone in this family knows exactly why.”

Garrett scoffs, “You’ll want to talk to my brother about that.”

“Well, that’s the thing Garrett,” You speak, “I did, and that man is clean as a whistle, he hasn’t taken drugs in at least a year, and the last time he was at the house, it was clear of anything,” You shrug, “I can’t imagine your dad being involved in anything like this, so that just leaves you.”

You can see his demeanour change almost immediately, he’s uncomfortable, moving from foot to foot and you can see the start of perspiration on his forehead.

“You’re telling me you think I’m involved in something?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“Am I?”

He pushes himself from the counter he’s been leaning against, takes a few steps towards you, trying to intimidate you, but you know you’re pushing in the right direction, he wouldn’t be reacting like this if you were barking up the wrong tree.

“Where’s your evidence?” He asks.

“Maybe you’ll have to buy the paper to find out?”

“Listen here you little bitch,” He spits, pointing his finger in your face, “You ought to be careful about this, you think this is just me?” He asks, stepping even closer to you, making your breath catch in your throat, “You think you publish this story and it’ll just be me you have to worry about? You’re dead wrong, publish whatever story you’re planning and you’ll have a rain of fucking fire to deal with from people you don’t want to get on the wrong side of.”

“So, it was you then?” You can help but smirk, having caught him redhanded in a confession, the recorder in your bag that you’d pressed on before he’d answered the door your little secret.

You watch some kind of fury flick over his eyes as he grits his teeth, his hands pressed into your shoulders to push you back, ���Stupid little girl.” He says as he pushes, but it’s a lot harder than you’d anticipated and it makes you lose your balance, falling backward.

It all happens in a blur, the side of your head makes contact with the corner of the kitchen island, pain spreading almost immediately across your forehead, vision blurring as your backside hits the floor. You’re sort of aware of something warm and wet dripping down your cheek, which you brush away with the back of your hand as you try and quickly reorientate yourself. Then you feel a hand wrap around your arm and a presence next to you, not quite all there enough to push it away.

“Oh shit,” You hear Garrett speak next to you, “Shit, shit shit,” He’s touching your face now, “I'm sorry, I- oh god - I didn’t mean to push you that hard.”

You groan, letting your head tip back against the cool marble of the kitchen island, “Am I-” You struggle to speak, “Am I bleeding?”

“Oh god-” Garrett mutters, “I’m going to be sick.”

And then he’s gone, the sound of his shoes clipping against the floor as he runs to God knows where, leaving you disorientated and bleeding on his kitchen floor. You know you need to get out of here, slowly moving yourself just enough to push yourself to your feet, hands gripping the counter as you reach for your bag. You’re dizzy as you walk towards the door, looking down at the floor because as soon as you look up, you feel like you’re going to throw up and pass out. You can see yourself leaving small drops of blood on the floor as you move - a trail that follows you all the way down the driveway and to your car. You fumble with your keys, dropping them on the floor. When you bend over to try and pick them up, your vision goes fuzzy before you can grab them from the ground. You know you can’t drive like this.

In the haze of confusion you look around, a little way down the street you spot a phone box. It’s slow going, but you make it, pulling open the door, leaning against the glass wall, pinching the bridge of your nose to try and ease the ache behind your eyes. You shuffle through your bag to find your wallet, pulling out a handful of coins that you push into the slot. You think about phoning your father, but realise there’s only one person you want right now. Despite having his number memorised, you pull the worn card from your wallet, mainly to make sure that the haze of confusion doesn’t make you dial the wrong number. You drag your thumb over the faded number, watching a smear of blood cover it, and then press the number into the dialling pad, listening to it start to ring.

“Please Javi,” You whisper, “Please answer.”

You’re about to lose hope, expecting the phone to ring out, but through some form of divine intervention, the ringing stops and you hear the voice you’ve craved all week.

“Peña?”

“Oh Javi,” You sigh out in relief, feeling the prick of tears behind your eyes, “Help me.”

“Cariño?”

“Javi please, I need you.”

“What’s happened?” You can hear his tone change, concern and something else you can’t quite place, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, I just-” The ache behind your eyes is making you tired, “I need you to come and get me.”

“Has something happened?”

“Yes,” You reply, “I’m so tired Javi, I can’t drive.”

“Where are you?”

“The mayor’s house,” You reply, “Well- no - I'm in the phone box down the road.”

“You stay right there, okay?” He’s frantic on the other end of the phone, you can tell.

“Please hurry.”

He’s beside himself as he drives from the ranch and into town. A week of avoiding you, of avoiding his feelings towards you, and you’re hurt. He still can’t think about what happened. He doesn’t even know why he’d answered the phone this time - he’d avoided answering anything that had come through on his phone since he’d run out on you before, but there’s something today that made him pick up, and by God is he pleased he did. He doesn’t think he could have lived with himself if he’d let you call and left you hurt and injured in the middle of nowhere.

He thinks of all the other women throughout his life that he's let down. Lorraine and the way he left her, Helena and the way she risked herself for him, for the promise of a fucking visa, and paid the price. Most women in his life ended up hurt, emotionally or physically, and it was becoming evident to him that you were no different.

Not knowing, and not caring about how many speed restrictions he breaks, he makes it to the phone box in record time, cutting the engine and slamming the door behind him. He takes four or five big steps to the phone box, tearing open the door to find you slumped on the floor, eyes fluttering open at the disturbance. He takes a deep breath, dropping to his knees in front of you.

“Cariño, it’s me,” He speaks softly, “Can you hear me?”

He takes your face in his hands, turns it towards the quickly fading light, finding the cut on your forehead. The blood has dried and scabbed over, but there’s a trail of crusting blood down your cheek and side of your neck. He thinks of Helena in this moment, about draping his jacket over her naked body, cradling her to his body, reluctantly handing her over to a paramedic, not knowing what would come of her.

“Javi?” Your voice is quiet, but your eyes are looking at him, glassed over, but at least you recognise him.

“That’s me,” He speaks softly, “Are you okay?”

“Tired,” You mumble, and then you shake your head in his hands, “Head hurts.”

“Shall we move you?” He asks, knowing he can’t leave you here, “Come here.”

Letting go of your face, he runs his palms down your arms to where your hands are clasped together. He gently pries open your fingers and takes hold of the card there, holding it up. It’s the card he’d given you with his number on, edges torn and worn. He can clearly see where you've run your fingers over the printed text, and where it's sat in your purse, pulled out and slotted bacon whenever you've needed him. He tries to take it, but your hand clasps over it again.

“Don’t,” You whisper, “It’s mine, don’t take it.”

“It’s okay, Cariño,” He replies, “I’ll keep it safe, just let me have it whilst we get you into the car.”

“My keys,” You mumble as he stands up, leaning down despite the protest of his knees and his back, “I dropped them.”

He’s scooping you up, not quite able to carry you, but able to lean you against his side to walk you to the passenger side of his truck.

“Where did you drop them?” He asks, settling you into the passenger seat, leaning across you to clip your seatbelt in.

“My car-” Your head lolls to the side, eyes hooded as you look at him, “On the ground.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek, shutting the door gently. He finds your keys on the ground by your car, and then after checking that the doors are still locked, he shoves the keys into his pocket and focuses his attention back to you.

The drive out of town is slower, Javi conscious that he doesn’t want to jostle you too much. Each corner he turns makes you groan. He had considered taking you to your own home, but he decides instead to take you back to the ranch. He pulls up, noticing the lights on in the living room. He knows he’s going to have questions from his father, but he doesn’t worry about that, instead he focuses on getting you out of the truck and into the house.

There’s a look from Chucho when he bursts through the front door, but Javi gives him a clipped shake of his head and instead walks you up the stairs and into his room. He sits you down on the side of the bed, kissing your forehead as he grabs some supplies from his bathroom - a warm, damp washcloth and his bag of first aid supplies, put together by Chucho when he’d come back to the ranch - his dad not convinced he wouldn’t injure himself with the manual labour.

“Hey, cariño?” He speaks softly, on his knees in front of you, “Look at me?”

You do, but your eyes are barely open. He works quickly, wiping away the crusted blood from your face first before he turns his attention to the actual cut. Once he’s cleaned it a little, he can see it’s not as deep as he’d anticipated. He brushes it with an antiseptic wipe, soothing you when it stings enough to make you gasp, and then covers it with a small plaster.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble as he eases you back on the bed, head down on his pillows.

“What for?” He asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed, brushing your hair from your face.

“Scaring you off.”

“Oh hermosa,” He breathes, feeling guilt pool in his stomach, nut not ready to quite face the conversation of what really made him run that night, “I’m here now, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.”

He listens to you groan in approval, moving your body to get a little more comfortable.

“What happened today?” He asks quietly, trying to keep you awake so he knows who did this to you.

“Went to the house,” You speak, punctuated with a yawn, “Asked Garrett about the house.”

It’s almost like you get a second wind, trying to sit up, but he knows you need to stay still, so he gently pushes you back down.

“It’s him Javi,” You groan, “He’s the one dealing the drugs.”

“Shhhhh,” It’s the only thing he can think to do, “Just rest, cariño, we can talk later.”

Javi sits there for longer than he needs. You’re softly snoring within minutes, but he still sits there to make sure you’re out for the count. When he’s sure you’re settled and still breathing, he heads downstairs, ignoring his father’s knowing look as he pours himself a generous amount of whiskey.

“When were you going to tell me?”

Javi shrugs, “I’m not sure,” He answers honestly, “It’s new.”

“Not that new,” Chucho huffs, “You were always shit at sneaking around,” He picks up his own drink, “Saw you after my birthday.”

Javi tips his head back and can’t help but chuckle because it’s true, he was never good at keeping things from his dad. He just hopes you’ve both done a better job at keeping things from your parents.

“You know what you’re doing with her?”

It’s a question he doesn’t really know how to answer, mulling over the answer in his mind before he lets his mouth speak.

“I just know I want to keep her safe,” He speaks, “And that I think I might love her.”

Javi watches as Chucho’s mouth grows into a smile, a small nod given in his direction.

“Will she be okay?”

Javi nods, “I think so yes, hit her head pretty hard, but I think after she’s slept she’ll be okay.”

Chucho pushes himself from his chair, draining his almost-empty cup. He puts it in the sink and then puts a warm hand on Javi’s shoulder with a squeeze.

“I just want you to be happy, finally,” He says, “That’s all that matters.”

Javi watches as he walks away, off to his room to sleep, and speaks into the silence of the empty kitchen once he’s gone, “Thanks, dad.”

[henrioo]

If requests are still open would you been interested in writing some domestic Mihawk with his husband and their baby? Maybe reader teaches the kid their languages, and Mihawk gets the baby little sword plushies. Idk man but there's no way that man isn't secretly mushy 😭

°•*⁀➷ OUR LITTLE PEACE: MIHAWK

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "All Mihawk ever wanted was a peaceful life in his castle. But a perfect peaceful life is not complete without you, his husband, and now his little baby to fill his days with joy."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : Male! Reader (can be cis or trans), MLM, homo relationship, homo marriage, Spoilers to the two years separation! (Zoro and Perona are in the castle and this is post Marineford), the author doesn't know anything about babies and children, almost nothing of Spanish because I couldn't think of one cute dialogue so sorry, not too many mentions of the reader gender like my others stories but still clear the reader is a men, also no mentions of the birth of the baby, no name or appearance to the baby so you can choose if is biology, adopted, imagine what you want.

꒰ WC ꒱ : 1,8k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : Another story! Another male reader! Hehehehe, I skipped one day of posting but here it's the new one, another ask because I'm really trying to finish them to give more attention to another project and maybe write other stories idk. Thanks for the ask, I love writing family stuff hehehhe, this one was not that good because I'm having some struggles with my writing style but I hope everyone likes it! Byee

You yawned as you tested the milk in your hand, warm but not enough to burn your baby's tongue, perfect. Zoro was in a bad mood in the kitchen eating something, he had been beaten by Mihawk in the last training session and you suspected it was because the pirate was always lost in the castle and opening the doors with great force, which made a huge noise and always it made your baby start crying, irritated when awakened from his sleep. Which also made the older man a little irritated that someone was disturbing his son's sleep.

You made a mental note to try talk to your husband, although to be honest you were uncomfortable too. His son was a needy little boy and when he started crying he would stay like that for hours, until his throat got tired and he went back to sleep, so having to deal with it several times because Zoro kept waking him up was really frustrating.

You walked through the hallways, now with furniture all prepared to be baby proof, no furniture with pointy ends, no sliding rugs, doors in front of the stairs and other changes. At first you thought that Mihawk would be uncomfortable with the changes, to his surprise he took responsibility for changing everything without you even talking about it first. He spent weeks moving furniture, buying or making objects to close doors or round edges, he even made himself available to remove carpets and pictures, even going overboard with the protection.

Your husband has always been a very protective person, even before he was your husband or boyfriend. When he was just flirting, or courting, he was always very concerned about your ntegrity. If you were traveling, would he always give you the best accommodations, extreme climates? He has everything prepared, clothes and even medicine for illnesses, that is if he doesn't change the entire route of the trip to prevent inconvenience.

As you progressed in your relationship, the more protective Mihawk became, he would never be possessive or controlling, he was just genuinely concerned about your comfort and safety and felt it was his obligation as a lover to provide you with the best. Of course he respected you, after all you were also a man and a fighter, you were not weak in any way, it was your strength and intelligence that made Mihawk attract and fall in love with you in the first place. But living a life as a "pirate", an ally of the navy or just someone very strong in the grand line meant that your loved ones and even you were at risk of death at all times. He would never want to lose you and that's why he never let his guard down.

It was no different with his son, he wanted to give him a safe and as normal childhood as possible, thus arriving at this extremely careful point. He was already planning his son's diet and he wasn't even eating so many solid things yet...

"Almost there dear, it's papa, mi hijo, papa" You heard through the half-open door, there was an area of the castle that was closed just for the three of you. Even Zoro and Perona knew to stay away from that part, it being your private wing.

There was the bedroom where you two slept, a common room with the fireplace where you two usually stayed, a bathroom, a library next to the balcony and of course, your son's room. It was almost a complete house, except that it was inside a huge castle with many other rooms.

You stopped watching your husband next to your son, Mihawk was now wearing casual clothes although his shirt was more open, contact with the parents' skin was good for babies, he had told you. The baby laughed in his arms, trying to touch the adult's face with his chubby little hands. He wore thicker baby clothes to protect himself from the cold on the island, as your husband insisted that just the fireplace wasn't enough. The outfit was dark red with bat symbols, Perona had given away saying that the cute baby needed to maintain one parent's vampire reputation.

"Baba!" Your son exclaimed excitedly, laughing again, your husband's affectionate look and smile made your heart melt and your stomach feel strange.

For many, Mihawk was a cruel and merciless man, who could effortlessly cut through ships and defeat thousands of swordsmen at the same time without breaking a sweat. For you? Ah... To you, he was a loving man, a man who always brought gifts from every island he visited, who always had fresh flowers to give you, a man who would kill anyone who dared to offend you for being in a relationship with another man. For you, he was your husband.

"I'll only forgive your terrible pronunciation because you're too cute," Your husband said, shaking his son again.

"I think baba suits you a lot" You smiled entering the room, your husband had been trying to teach Spanish to your little baby for some time. Although this turned out to be a much longer task than he imagined.

"Of course I do" He mocked looking at you smiling, it's not like he could contradict you.

"Papa!" Your baby said excitedly and soon his attention was all on you, his little hands stretched out trying to reach you as quickly as possible.

"Why can he get the pronunciation right with you?" Mihawk looked at you confused and envious as he passed the child to you.

"Because he likes to annoy you" You smiled, rubbing your face with the chubby and soft face of your baby who laughed at the contact.

"Well, he got it out of you then..." Mihawk teased as he adjusted the chair so you were comfortable breastfeeding.

"Of course yes" You sat in the chair and then placed your son next to the bottle, he quickly held the bottle as he began to drink the milk. His eyes soon started to get tired and he relaxed against you, after all it was close to time for him to fall asleep.

"I should order a painting of you two like this, it would be the most beautiful work of art I have ever seen..." He sighed looking at the two of you with love, for him it seemed like a dream, so much peace with the people he loved most.

"He wouldn't be able to stay still for that long" You laughed, your baby used to be quite energetic, which had created some good confusion with you guys losing him in the huge castle.

“It would be worth a try” He chuckled and walked closer to you, caressing your cheek and then placing a kiss on your forehead. "I can put him to bed today, you should take a shower and rest."

"You already did this yesterday, I don't get that tired taking care of him, you practically do everything." You sighed, your husband always wanted to take the weight off your shoulders since he used to travel a lot. However, your son really wasn't that big of a job, now with Perona and Zoro here and the instability of the world government, you doubted that Mihawk would travel anytime soon, so your job was even easier since you shared it with your husband.

"Humpf" He huffed, he always sulked when you didn't allow him to take care of everything.

"Let's put him to bed together... Then after that we'll have some time just for the two of us" You suggested smiling, your baby had now let go of the bottle and was yawning, showing that he was ready to end the day.

"You know how to convince me, don't you?" Mihawk smiled, taking the empty bottle as you stood up with your baby.

"Of course, how do you think I got you to marry me?" You played with him. Soon you were running around the baby's room to rock him, your son clung to you yawning and finishing digesting the warm milk you had provided. Luckily he didn't give much work on that part.

When he had calmed down enough to be practically asleep, Mihawk had already prepared the crib, also carrying some stuffed animals and blankets in case you decided to add something else. You walked over with your baby and gently placed him in the crib, then he stretched out completely and then curled up again in a ball, grabbing a sword plush and messing up the blanket there.

"Sword?" You said looking confused at the plushie of a sword, you didn't remember having one of those. You then asked your husband.

You only met a proud, red-faced Mihawk if you had seen your son doing the most graceful thing possible.

"We have to start familiarizing him as soon as possible," he said, smiling to disguise that he had bought the plush hidden from you.

"Oh yeah? Familiarize our baby with his father's swordsmanship legacy?" You said, crossing your arms and smiling at him, you even wanted to pretend to be angry but you couldn't, not with him being so cute like that.

"Of course, he will be a great swordsman in the future" Mihawk said proudly, you raised your eyebrow.

"Of course, then he's going to beat Roronoa and then come kick his own father's ass, it seems like something my son would do" You said proudly leaving the room, knowing that Mihawk would now be thinking about the fact that one day he would fight seriously with his son, knowing he would never be able to hurt his own child.

It didn't take long for Mihawk to come up behind you with a thoughtful face as he too got ready for bed.

"Well... He's still young, we can't say if he'll actually be a swordsman" He said coughing embarrassedly as he sat next to you on the bed.

"Of course, maybe he's something else" You said smiling knowing you had hit the nail on the head. Mihawk would never be able to seriously fight his own son.

"Of course... Another thing" Mihawk said with flushed cheeks, he also knew that you knew. It was shameful for him to know that his husband knew him so well.

"Yeah, another thing where he doesn't have to kick his dad's ass" You laughed giving him a kiss on the cheek, knowing he would sulk at the idea for a while.

“You really like teasing me…” He sighed as the two of you cuddled together on the bed, ready to spend some time together before bed. And well, you couldn't deny it, your biggest fun was seeing the merciless and cruel Dracule Mihawk, the strongest swordsman in the world, reduced to a soft-hearted, caring husband and father who would do anything for his husband and son. Sometimes love also came with provocation.

[that-bitch-kat3]

i’m aware that i am so late to the party but i am currently watching heartstopper for the first time and oh my god. i meant to watch this show earlier but i felt like id been burned before when it came to queer stories in media and honestly i have a hard time letting myself enjoy things so i thought it would be better for me to just have this idea in my head about a sweet queer story but i was wrong. this is so good and worth the scary parts of watching something new.

they are telling so many different stories with different characters and identities but they all center around the one central idea of queer children deserve to be happy. i have dealt with and currently deal with a lot of the shame that comes from being queer (especially if you were raised religious) but watching these stories play out of young teenagers getting to do the things i always wanted to but wasn’t always brave enough to do is really beautiful to me. (not that i haven’t had some of these experiences but the unflinching support they show each other means the world to me)

i also think that this show is just visually fucking stunning. every shot is truly cinematic and the whole thing looks like it came out of a dream. the colors they use are so good at displaying the mood of the scene and they give it this truly lovely and magical vibe that i honestly haven’t seen a lot of.

the soundtrack has to be my favorite part. honestly there hasn’t been a single song i’ve heard so far that wasn’t already on my playlist but i feel like they still managed to cover the gambit of important queer songs (that fit the aesthetic) the songs always add to the scenes they are in and honestly i feel like they give a lot of needed context.

i could spend hours reading into every lighting, dialogue, music, and angle choice for every scene but i think my main thing is this. i know that we all know representation is so important, but seeing queer joy expressed on the screen and watching young queer people fall in love with each other, themselves, and the world around them has been a total game changer for me. this show means the world to me and honestly expect to see some heartstopper stuff reblogged in the future.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

Your genuinely one of my favorite elden ring artists, what would you say is your favorite aspect of elden ring just in general

this might be a big revelation but i think my favourite part about Elden Ring is i... actually don't really like it until the DLC.

the way the base game presented a kinda basic and fragmented story, one i'd even say i were underwhelmed about. because i went in expecting Sekiro-level of character driven writing (they did promise that in an interview) and what i got... ehhhh. that's why my fanarts for the base game is literally just fluff pieces and shipping Malenia with another character altogether that isn't even in the game. meanwhile my AC6, Sekiro and Bloodborne art... i think you can tell i have a very deep emotional connection to those games from the kind of work im putting out for them. (hell, before the DLC i actually was thinking "well i'll probably only draw some general fanarts after the DLC then go back to draw more JJK stuffs lol" famous last words)

but holy mother of God the way the DLC completely blew everything tf up.

sorry Fromsoftware, i were not aware the Sekiro character-driven part is actually about the DLC. im sorry im still not familiar with your game yet 😭

(this turns into a mini rant so imma put it under cut OTL)

before, i were pretty "...." about Elden Ring female cast. i think Melina appears too little, i think NPCs like Fia and Roderika... i can't figure out the significance of them within the narrative at all. and it kinda upset me because it feels like they regress back to the helpless / fanservice maiden trope that was usually seen in DS franchise for no reason. i don't like how Rennala ends up as and i don't like not knowing why Radagon did that to her (which turns to me not liking the way it became a popular fanon that he actually loved her he was just bound by duty etc etc...i mean what?), i actually don't even really like how Malenia's barely-there story turns out (but that's a rant for another day).

as standalone characters, sure, i'd say they all have their own merits, but if they don't play any role within the narrative... what's the point then?

but all of that is because back then, we literally did not know what's Marika's deal either.

and so she became this cardboard that everyone pins all the crimes and bad things in the world on, which is... fine? makes sense. but the following line of reasoning that she did all that because she's just...like that drives me up the wall. if i want another "woman bad" story i'd just replay DS2 😭

and that line of thought also distance her from other characters in the game. those stories are not lining up, so we literally see no point in anything.

but by giving us Marika's story in the DLC they:

shine light on the possible division between two Numen factions (Anna & Jolan story + Sword of Light & Darkness // no one is left in Marika's home (those embraces Light/Gold/ Greater Will and its Stars children) vs the Numens in Eternal City (those embraces Dark/ Black Moon/ opposing GW and its children)

the discontent with the Moon and how there are those who will never accept it as being equal to the Stars

the other half situation

the Marika's eye colour possible reveal (link her to Roderika - Roderika as a reflection of the maiden Marika once was and probably still is deep down)

give Godwyn more agency in his ending (his personal knights are on a quest for Age of Duskborn) -> link Marika to Fia (Fia as a reflection of the mother Marika is)

draw direct parallel between Messmer - the child carrying Marika's vengeance for the past, to Melina - the child carrying Marika's hope for the future

Marika as a God full of human flaws >< Miquella as a God devoid of all human emotions. both are bad in different ways. but share a same gentle origin of a simple wish for a kinder world.

the DLC singlehandedly swipes clean every problem i have with the base game. like im actually in awe they managed to do that so efficiently 😭

all that is to say. my favourite aspect of all is truly how one's perspective of this one character could alter the entire story.

i still dislike the interpretation that Marika is cold and heartless or that's she's cruel for no reason, but at the same time, i can see how ppl viewing her that way affect how they see other events in the game. just like how my view of her changes my entire view of the story itself too. and i just love how the writers pull that off really skillfully. man. and i think that's sth so unique to videogame storytelling. it's amazing!

[countrymusiclover]

1 - Professor Reid

Part 2

Detective Stabler’s Daughter

Here's the first chapter and as always if you have anything you'd like to see. I always leave my stories open for suggestions.

“Are you sure you have your pepper spray?” My father Elliot asked me like the tenth question in the car driving me from our house to my college where my younger sister Kathleen was going to be attending this year.

Sending my dad a glance he was panicking far too much about this, especially since it was my senior year there and nothing bad has ever happened. “Dad, please calm down.”

“You know if anything goes wrong, call 911.” He added another point not hearing me.

I sighed, slumping my shoulders. “Dad! It’s my senior year. I will be perfectly fine.”

“I deal with the worst people in the city, honey. I just don’t want something to happen to you when I’m not there to protect you.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel waiting for the light to change green.

We finally pulled up in the parking lot outside the building of my first class. We had already moved my stuff in my dorm but my parents also said if I wanted to come home for a while I could. Getting out of the car I went around and hugged my father when he got out of the car. “Don't worry so much. Besides I'll have my sister here to have my back.”

“Y/n. Dad!” We turned our heads seeing my sister running towards us across the parking lot.

I broke the embrace from him, engulfing her in a tight hug. “Kathleen!”

“I've missed you.” I squeezed her tightly back even though we had only been apart a week since she moved in a week earlier being a freshman.

We finally broke our hug turning to face our father. He was standing in front of us simply just staring at us. He was always overprotective of every single one of his children. “You two need to stay in constant contact with each other. If you can’t reach the other, tell me or your mother immediately.”

“We know dad.” I grumbled loving him but this was a tad much.

Kathleen walked up to him, hugging him. “Dad, stop being such a worrier. Y/n and I will be fine without you breathing down our necks.”

“I love you both - uh I better get to work.” His phone vibrated in his pocket when he broke the hug with her. He began walking away from us pointing his index finger at us rounding the corner out of our sights. “Be responsible. Both of you.”

Kathleen and I said in unison, looping arms with each other heading off in the direction of our first class of the school year. “Love you dad.”

My sister and I entered the building seeing that the room was shaped like theater seating that were slightly surrounding the professor desk and large white board. We decided to sit in the second row seating in the middle for the best view, but where we didn't come off as so eager to learn. Reaching inside my backpack I drew out a light green notebook. “So do you have your sights on getting a boyfriend before you leave here?”

“What no.” I whipped my head around at my sisters question.

She huffed. “Why not?”

“Because I have been perfectly happy doing my college years without a boyfriend and I'm quite sure I can finish out my last one without one.” I explained to her sitting some pencils beside my notebook.

My sister clicked her tongue. “That's my goal for you this year. To get you a boyfriend.”

“How about you focus on your studies.” I reminded her.

The rest of the classroom began filling up with people before a different door was opened and closed behind the person who walked in. The guy that I assumed could only be our professor sat down on a satchel on the long desk. “Good afternoon class. My name is Dr. Spencer Reid. You can call me Professor Reid.”

“He’s cute.” I heard one of the girls in front of us.

I picked up my pencil marking notes for myself across the syllabus we had to have printed out before the first day of class and already read over it. “Awe.” Another girl rested her chin in the palm of her hands.

“I assume you all have read the syllabus but if you have any questions feel free to ask.” The professor explained brushing his hands over his clothes. He was wearing a gray shirt underneath a black suit jacket and some brown dress shoes.

Kathleen tapped my shoulder trying to talk to me. “They are right. He is rather cute.”

“Sssh Kath.” I warned her wanting to pay attention instead of gossiping.

“Okay let’s take a moment now to discuss the difference between a trigger and a stressor.” Professor Reid began the lecture for our first day of class. “A trigger is a sensory event experienced by an offender that precipitates subsequent behavior whereas a stressor is a longer term pattern of behavior or circumstances which pushes a person into behaving differently than they normally would.”

Some of the other girls in the class began twirling their hair and giving him the doe eyes, clearly not paying attention to what he was saying. “You’re probably gonna wanna write this down. I shouldn’t be telling you this but I’m definitely putting this on the final.”

“I’m only auditioning this class.” My pencil moved across the page taking down detailed notes until a girl with long black hair raised her hand in the air.

Our professor raised a brow. “Is anyone else auditioning this class?”

“Oh man. He’s definitely cute.” Kathleen mumbled under my breath.

I rolled my eyes at her statement seeing most of the girls in the class raise their hands answering his question. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Okay - unfortunately that is all the time we have for today. Thank you guys, class dismissed.” He paused, eyeing his wrist watch and dismissing the class earlier than the end time that was listed.

Kathleen began putting her stuff away getting to her feet to leave like most people were. “Cool. Out of class early on the first day. Can you show me around the campus?”

“Yeah sure.” I answered her.

I heard our professor’s voice call out to me suddenly. “Excuse me, miss. Can I talk with you for a second?”

“Uh me?” I turned my body around, eyeing him standing down by his desk.

He nodded yes to me. “Yes.”

“Oooh already in trouble on day one.” Kathleen teased.

I glared at her, waving her off and gathering my stuff to go meet him down at his desk. My sister slipped out the double doors into the hallway. “I’ll find you later. Hi Professor Reid, you wanted to speak with me.”

“I noticed you and your friend were the only ones really paying attention in my lecture today.”

I made a simple noise at his point. “Oh.”

“I just wanted to say thank you. It was kinda embarrassing to learn that the majority of girls in here are auditing my class.”

Hugging my notebook closer to my chest I sent him a kind smile not expecting him to admit that it affected him. “Well uh - thank you for saying that, Professor.”

“Call me Spencer - um only if you want to - if we’re talking like this. Never mind, I shouldn't have said that. That was very unprofessional of me Ms.-“ He stuttered on his words, shifting from foot to foot.

I felt my face turn red at what he had just said until I shook my head pushing whatever I was feeling away since I was a student and he was a professor. “Stabler, Y/n Stabler. I’ll - uh see you tomorrow Professor Reid.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ms. Stabler.” He replied watching me exit the classroom while I peaked over my shoulder sparing him one glance before I was out of sight.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

Tag list - send an ask to be added @hiireadstuff

[sp0-t]

JOHNNY “SOAP” MCTAVISH

(ideas wanted, needed, and encouraged! Inbox is open)

Johnny was always “a character” that’s how many people described him in your town. Johnny was like that one cousin that you don’t talk about, that your parents would nudge you and give you a look to “shut up”. It was as if speaking his name was a taboo, or sin, well it basically was. Your small town was very religious, centered their lives around god and church, and lord forbid anyone step out of line in that routine.

So you never did, you stayed in line like everyone else cause well that’s what god would want you to do, so you did it happily. However, why would your town want to shun someone away so bad, shun them from others and especially even god. Why could even god not lay his eyes on such a man he created?

Johnny was “different”, he was difficult and hard headed. Nobody liked that about him. You, and everyone else your age in town that grew up with Johnny, were told to distance to “be only necessarily nice.” This resulted in Johnny being the outcast of the town, when you were younger you knew he would get bullied, but ever since he knocked out one of them nobody messed with him. This had its pros and its cons, one one hand he wouldn’t get messed with anymore, and on the other the whole town now labeled him as “dangerous”, someone not safe to be around the other children.

Johnny was distant due to this, kept even more to himself. When high school hit he was know as the “bad boy” the “delinquent” even a “criminal”. The last one was due to Johnny stealing a lighter once and getting caught, it also didn’t help that he drives a motorcycle now that he was 18. In both of your senior years everyone started to notice just how attractive Johnny actually was, how he had grown into his looks and even gained weight in all the right places. This lead to him being invited to some parties, secretly of course, everyone thought he’d just walk in and come as he pleased.

You saw yourself as a good religious child growing up, you behaved well and were above average in school. But you thought maybe you deserved a bit of fun, it was the week before finals, you knew you should’ve been at home studying but you couldn’t help but give into the temptation.

You went with your group of friends to try and get your mind off of the upcoming week. Once you got to the party most of your friends all spread out throughout the house. You weren’t the most popular kid but you definitely weren’t the least, you saw some other people you knew and went to meet with them. You talked for a while and ended up finding yourself at a beer pong table, watching the current game going on. It was between the known jock of the school, who was also the host, and another one of his teammates.

You looked around the room and spotted someone you hadn’t expected to see. There was Johnny in the corner of the room looking down at the game going on. You looked away quickly in case he tried to catch your gaze. The game finished with the head jock being the victor, excitingly putting his arms up in the air.

“Who wants to challenge me next huh!”

You were shoved forward by one of your friends, before you could step back into the crowd to hide yourself, he spot you.

“Hey, hot stuff! You think you’re ready for the challenge?”

You tried to speak to the obviously drunk jock before someone else’s voice stepped in.

“I am, if ya ‘ave the balls to give it a go.”

He glances from you back to Johnny, when a smirk forms on his face

“Sure Johnny boy, but, it’s 2 verses 1. I get hot cakes over here and you can stay over there.”

You feel his hand land on your waist as you get tugged closer into his side.

“And what do you get if you win.”

“If I win, I get the keys to the nice bike you got sitting outside.”

…

“Sure. but if I win, I get that nice piece of eye candy you got on ‘ur arm.”

“Hey! I never-“

“Deal.”

This was going to be a long night

💿: HEY! SO P.S. I ABSOLUTELY HATE THIS STORY! I DONT THINK I WROTE IT WELL AND I THINK IT JUST SUCKS IN GENERAL IM SO SORRY, even though that wasn’t all of it. But I just really hate it. Anyways, if you guys take a stroll through my page you’d see I have absolutely nothing for soap, and it makes me so sad cause I absolutely love soap both in game and in the fandom. So this is a tiny cry for help for ideas/story prompts for soap.

I am trying to find a good prompt or idea for soap but I feel like some of the ones I have came up with are already so common that it would wind up being too repetitive or predictable. (not saying that they’re bad!!)

I won’t leave you guys with nothing though so I wrote a bit of soap for my sake to try and get ideas as well as to finally get the need to write for soap out of my system.

written by: @sp0-t ©️

[eldritch-spouse]

What if Santi's Minx was a woman in a loveless marriage looking to take revenge on her cheating husband?

 

Basically, s/o is married to a rich man who would rather have sex with his mistress, s/o, who has a high sex drive (obviously she's Santi's match for a reason), so of course she is extremely unsatisfied, and the toys she's bought are just not cutting it anymore. So she thinks, "You know what? The children have left the nest, and I don't have to pretend to be happy with their father anymore."

There was a popular club nearby; she dolled herself up to the nines and left her husband a text she was going out, which he probably won't read anyway. As soon as she sat down at the bar and ordered a drink, the regret started sinking in.

This was the nightmare of every introvert. In that moment, she wanted to come and find somebody to screw, but now that she's faced with the options, she would rather drink herself half-blind. It wasn't until a handsome stranger with bull-like horns and hypnotizing eyes approached her that her night lightened up.

He was a charming fellow and very persistent, even when she stumbled over herself and stuttered like an idiot. She couldn't help but zone in on the fact that he wasn't human. Being raised among humans and only feeling the touch of a human made her curious about monsters, especially monster cocks.

Santi was his name; she would never forget it after screaming it throughout the night. Speaking of night, she was pretty sure none of her holes were left unstretched; all her demands were satisfied, and she came thrice as much with Santi's fucking as with her husband's. It was no wonder she eagerly snatched the card with his number on it.

Every day she had him, the more she started noticing small details about him: the way his facial expression twitched while reading a book, the genuine smile he would give her, and the way he looked at her with that soft look in his eyes. He was everything her husband wasn't. Sure, he slept with others like her husband, but he did it to survive; he did it to not hurt her. But her husband? Whatever excuse that bastard had, she didn't want to hear it. Santi was warm and her husband was cold; she'd no longer have to pray that her husband would find his way back into her bed so that she wouldn't feel so cold and alone, not when Santi was as hot as a furnace and all too happy to whisper, 'I love you's, back to her.

She decided not to drag herself along anymore; she was ready for divorce, but for a final time, she'd make sure to rub how much better she's doing with Santi in her soon-to-be ex-husband's face.

 

I can just imagine Santi's Minx planning a dinner of four for the two of them with her husband and his mistress. The husband's face pales when he sees Santi walk in, and he realizes his wife can do so much better than him.

Oh your plan is utterly devious. He likes it.

Santi's actually looking forward to meeting the loser that would rather be in bed with subpar scraps than a vixen such as you. He's heard this story a million times, men intimidated by the appetites of their partners, becoming distant, leading those partners crawling to fiends like him. That he'd meet his match in such a way is a massive stroke of luck.

Before Santi walks in with you, he makes it a point to ruffle your feathers and stuff his tongue down your throat. Enough so you walk in with some color on your cheeks.

The high-ranker gives you an award winning smile before handing you a small vial and promising to do something you're going to love. He usually doesn't deal in the kind of substances your vial contains, in fact, he's made it a point to destroy sources of such throughout his life. But what you carry is a certain monster's type of numbing "poison" which makes an incubus' charms and pheromones have little to no effect in you. If you trust him enough to down it, then you're in for a very fun dinner date.

The demon makes sure his hand is around your waist when he walks towards the table you requested, hugging the squish of your body as if it had always been his. He hardly muffles a snort at the little man you got married to. An absolute waste of time, the kind of male that does nothing in bed, something he'd bite for breakfast and promptly toss out the door. And the woman beside him, surprisingly looking more bored than anything. A woman who no doubt already noticed her only gain in being a side-piece to this man is the money.

Sad.

The dinner starts out cordially. Well, as cordial as it can be when you and your ex-husband are clearly having a peacocking competition. All of you order something to eat, Santi orders something to drink, many subtle digs are made at your husband's lack of sexual finesse, with Santi effortlessly setting up traps amidst the conversation, which your agitated and insecure ex-lover readily falls for. He doesn't make a single pass at his mistress, but she's looking at him anyway, for rather shameless amounts of time.

Then the fun really starts, as Santi begins silently pumping his pheromones out and shooting stares at both your ex and his mistress. It works like a filthy charm. While you are relatively composed, the man and his lover begin to sweat in place, to lose their cool, fawn over Santi restlessly. He brings them down to unfathomably horny lows where they not so subtly proposition him. And then, all control is handed to you.

In this state, they will do anything he commands them to under the velveteen promise of relief. So what would you have them do, minx? Crawl outside on all fours? Clean the soles of your shoes? Would you like to see Santi make them orgasm in their own clothes?

He wouldn't mind fucking them into putty just as a sign of dominance, but you get to decide whether or not that happens. After all, this is your special night.

[custardcrazy]

i have a Ted logan request! it’s kinda inspired by the tutor piece you wrote but instead of being Ted’s tutor she’s Deacons tutor (or babysitter) instead and she comes over to the Logan household and Ted sees her there and is immediately head over heels for her and is constantly trying to find an excuse to go to whatever room she’s in and stay there much to the annoyance of Deacon and their father on occasion

sorry if i got to specific but you’re my fav Ted Logan writer and I’m happy his requests are open!!!

young as we are

summary: you're deacon logan's new babysitter. it doesn't seem like it'll be anything too special -- until you meet his cute older brother, that is. (gn!reader)

wordcount: 3.8k

A/N: okay so I might've changed around the prompt a teensy bit, but hopefully it still fits what you wanted. i'm no good at writing slow stuff so i got kinda impatient lmao (also. i'm?? your favorite?? you have no idea how genuinely happy that makes me. i'm smiling like an idiot. thank you so much.)

You checked the note you'd written the address down on to make sure you hadn't gotten the wrong house -- okay, all good -- before ringing the doorbell. 

The house itself was pretty nice, just looking at the exterior. One of the perks of babysitting in a somewhat well-off area like this one was that you usually got paid decently for your troubles; and it wasn't nearly as bad as working retail, if the stories you'd heard from your friends were anything to go off of. And kids could be sweet, unlike food service customers. 

It was only half a minute before the door was answered by a balding middle-aged man with a stern expression. Mr. Logan, you presumed; it was probably his voice you'd heard on the phone. 

"You must be the babysitter," he stated directly, not giving you time to answer, "come in, then. I have some things I have to inform you of." He didn't wait, disappearing into the house and leaving the door ajar behind him. Feeling slightly awkward, you followed. 

Once you entered the foyer, he began speaking again. "Deacon's probably in his room right now. He has to be in bed by nine P.M., and he knows that, but I don't doubt that without me being present he'll try to stay up." Indicating some bills on the counter, he continued, "there's some money for a pizza. The number to call is on the refrigerator. Dinner should be at six." 

"Oh, and my … eldest son, Ted." If it was even possible, his tone became more snide. "He should be back in an hour or two. Don't let him bother you at all -- if he gets too annoying, just let me know when I get back later in the evening, and I'll deal with him." 

You barely got out an "uh, okay, thanks" before Mr. Logan was yelling for Deacon. 

He was maybe around twelve, you guessed. It was obvious that he was reluctant to come downstairs, but did so after a look from his father. You smiled at him, but he didn't return it; you didn't really mind. He was at that awkward age, after all. And if your instincts were correct, an overbearing father could inflict a number on any kid. 

It wasn't that you weren't familiar with strict parents -- but it was near-impossible to get entirely used to them. Being in charge of their children meant that you had to be extra careful. You couldn't trust a young kid to not tell on you if you were a little lenient when it came to bedtimes, and you couldn't trust an older kid to not try and put the fact that you were more easy-going than their parents to the test. 

Still, once Mr. Logan had left, you immediately relaxed. 

And so did Deacon, by the looks of it, because suddenly his tense demeanor all but disappeared. 

It was almost frightening how abruptly he turned his attention from his father's car pulling down the driveway to you. 

"You ever watched RoboCop?" 

He asked, with a certain bluntness only preteen boys were capable of. 

"No, I haven't." Encouragingly, you smiled again. "What's that?" 

"I have the tape," and already he was turning away, "gimmie a sec." 

You had the sneaking suspicion that his father didn't have the same enthusiasm for science fiction movies.

And you were right; even during the movie he spoke up now and then to tell you stuff about the characters or the plot. About how "RoboCop could probably take down an entire army by himself". You thought it was kind of spooky how the titular protagonist was a reanimated guy forced to follow cyborg programming to uphold "justice" in an already-corrupt city, disregarding any humanity he once had. 

… Or something like that. Deacon just found the guy "badass". 

By the time that you'd nearly reached the ending of the movie, you were invested. 

But not too invested to not look up when the front door opened, and thus you made eye contact with probably the prettiest guy you'd seen in a while. 

He froze midway through his path to the stairs. 

For a moment, both of you just looked at each other. He looked familiar. 

Oh, yeah, you'd seen him at school a couple times. Passed by him in the hallways or in the cafeteria, maybe. You hadn't really noticed him before, but maybe that was because you hadn't gotten a good look at him. Like now. 

And then Deacon took notice, coughing in an awfully non-subtle way into his fist, and you realized that maybe you shouldn't stare like a creep. 

"Uh, you must be Ted, right?" You laughed semi-awkwardly. "Hi. I'm just gonna be babysitting Deacon until your dad gets home." 

Hopefully you remembered his name correctly. From the way his father had said it, you had expected him to be some flavor of delinquent -- piercings, leather jacket, all that stuff that an uptight man like Mr. Logan would disprove of. A high school dropout who was bumming around in his dad's basement without a source of stable income. 

That couldn't be further from the truth; the Ted you were seeing now was a slightly gangly, floppy-haired boy your age who was looking at you like he'd seen an angel. 

It took him a moment, but he nodded vigorously in response to your question. 

"Yes. Yeah. I'm -- that's me." Ted glanced away, finally breaking away your gaze. "Um. What's your name? I - … I don't think we've been introduced before, dude." Even from your position on the couch, you could pick out spots of rose pink on his cheeks. Even as he focused determinedly on the ground. 

You couldn't help but be hopelessly endeared, so you gave him your name. 

He gently repeated it once, as if trying out how it felt on his tongue. "Oh. Radical." 

There was another brief moment, in which the movie still playing on the boxy television faded into the background. Then, his eyes were back on yours; they were a warm brown, you noticed. 

Apparently, Deacon had enough of his older brother interrupting his sacred movie, because he spoke up again, breaking the silence. "Ted, don't you have stuff to do?" 

You wanted to reprimand Deacon for his less-than-polite tone, but didn't have the chance, because Ted responded first.

"Oh." Seemingly snapping back to reality, he glanced away. "Yeah. Sorry 'bout that." 

Before you could tell him that you were going to order food later, he'd bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. You heard the far-off shutting of a door; and then a little later, muffled music that had a lot of distorted electric guitar and drums. 

Deacon scoffed to himself, but settled further into the couch cushions. 

You didn't see Ted again that night. He didn't even come downstairs to snatch a slice of pepperoni pizza, and just remained in his room. Maybe he didn't want to bother his little brother anymore, you thought, trying your hardest not to feel disappointed; even if you'd barely had any sort of conversation with him, there was something … Something very magnetic. 

Mr. Logan was back at around eleven, and by that time you were seated by the television once more. Alone, because you'd miraculously managed to get Deacon to go to bed. 

"I'm guessing everything went fine," remarked Mr. Logan, taking off his cap. You were beginning to get used to his clipped tone, and shut off the terrible sitcom you'd been killing time with. 

"Yeah, I left the change for the food on the counter." 

He pulled out his wallet, counting out crisp bills. 

"Did Ted give you any trouble?" 

Taking the money, you made sure it was the correct amount -- why'd you even bother, a man like Mr. Logan must've been specific about everything. "No, not at all. He barely said anything to me, actually." 

He only gave you a noncommittal hum in response to that, not even looking in your direction as he headed for the counter; probably to make sure you weren't stealing any of the change. "Well, good night." 

It wasn't a thank you -- not even close, but you'd take it. You'd been paid, after all.  "Good night." 

Ted's face upon seeing you still was fresh in your mind as you made your way home. And during the next several days that passed. It wasn't surprising, really. Nobody had ever looked at you like that; nobody had ever looked in awe of you on sight. At least, not anybody that had really caught your attention. 

Eventually, Mr. Logan called again. Apparently he had another work thing to do -- not that you were listening closely when he mentioned it. Your heart jumped at another opportunity to see Ted; it was a little embarrassing, really. You weren't some boy-crazed lunatic, pining after a guy you barely knew. 

Well, pining was a strong word. But you did pay extra attention when walking around at school, trying to catch a glimpse of him on your way to your classes. 

(You didn't.) 

This time, your pulse picked up when you walked up to the house. You even hesitated before you rang the doorbell again. But when you did, you heard some general commotion from within the house before Deacon answered the door, looking a little annoyed. 

"Hi," he said, "Dad's getting ready or whatever." 

He stepped aside to let you in. "I thought Ted was gonna answer the door. But he ran off as soon as he heard the doorbell." Sighing, he flopped down on the couch. "Lazy ass." 

As if on cue, Mr. Logan entered the living room, fixing his hat. You idly wondered if he wore it to hide the fact that he basically lacked all of his hair except for on the sides and back. 

"Deacon, watch your language." 

"Sorry." Even though his voice was muffled into the cushions, he didn't sound apologetic in the slightest. 

Mr. Logan turned his attention to you. "You don't need a refresher on anything, right." It sounded more like an order than a question, but you chose to look past it. At least he had offered to jog your memory if needed. The bare minimum was nice sometimes. 

"Yeah, I'll be fine." 

He gave you a curt nod. It wasn't until you heard the garage door shutting behind his car that Deacon sat bolt upright, suddenly energized. 

You looked at him expectantly. 

"Let's watch Ghostbusters," he declared. "Dad thinks it's stupid." 

And so, with little fanfare, you were basically doing the same thing as last time. But instead of dystopia, the setting was mildly less disturbing this time. And the main protagonists were human and likable. No offense to cyborg cops, but he didn't offer much in the way of personality -- so nobody could blame you. 

You were sure you'd seen this movie before, but the memory was vague enough that most of the events were new to you. However, even though you were focused on watching the film, there was something else on the back of your mind. An underlying antsiness; and you had a good idea why. 

Said antsiness was confirmed when, about half an hour into the movie, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. It took all of your willpower not to look, but you knew who it was. 

It was only until he breached your peripheral vision that you allowed yourself to smile. 

"Hey, Ted." 

Today, he was wearing all loose clothes -- a baggy tee shirt with BLACK SABBATH printed on it in slightly distorted purple font, and what looked like sleep shorts. All in all, it made him look very soft. Like he was planning to do nothing but lay in bed for the entire day. Even his hair was kind of mussed up, a curl or two (or three) sticking out from the rest. 

He returned your smile tenfold with a near-blinding grin. "Hey." 

Deacon, unlike you, didn't have to hide anything. 

"Are you just gonna stand there and stare at the babysitter?" 

Delightfully, Ted flushed, hand flying up to fiddle with his hair. "Uh. No. I was just wondering if I could -- " he hesitated, before continuing, "if I could watch the movie too, y'know. I think Ghostbusters is a totally exceptional example of cinema." You didn't catch the way Deacon narrowed his eyes at his older brother. 

"Okay. Just don't interrupt too much." 

" 'Course." 

You were mildly startled when Ted sat down in the middle of you and Deacon -- you'd expected him to sit on the other side, but apparently that wasn't the case. The younger Logan let out an audible sigh and scooted further away. 

True to his word, Ted didn't speak up for the majority of the movie. But you were aware of his presence in a way that was almost comparable; since you were mere inches apart. He didn't sit still, and adjusted his position every so often, but you had the feeling that was the norm since Deacon didn't mention it. 

However, it seemed by the near-ending Ted reached his limit on not making at least one comment. 

"Dude. I forgot how impressive the special effects are," he mused in his best attempt at a hushed tone. "Must've taken them ages to do this stuff." 

"Yeah," you agreed, glancing over, "it's pretty cool. Slimer really gives me the creeps." 

Ted opened his mouth to respond, but shut up when a loud "shhh!" came from Deacon's general direction. 

For a moment, you and him just looked at each other. Then, not able to stifle it in time, you snorted; he lapsed into a fit of giggles, and as a result of that so did you. It wasn't really your fault -- his laugh was very contagious, even muffled like this. 

Somehow, you managed to get through the rest of the movie without much more incident. Even if your heart lurched every time Ted's arm or leg accidentally brushed up against yours with the way he was fidgeting. 

By the time it was over, it was around six, and so you called to order a pizza. Ted didn't retreat back upstairs, much to Deacon's disappointment, and pretty much hovered around you as you all waited for dinner to arrive. Not in a weird way, not at all -- he just resembled a puppy trying to get attention, really. 

"What'd you think of the movie?" He asked, just after you'd gotten off the phone with the pizza place. 

"It was pretty good," you hummed, putting down the receiver. "A couple moments were slow, but overall I enjoyed it. What's not to like about some guys capturing ghosts and defeating otherworldly entities?" 

"An excellent way to phrase it," grinned Ted, "and I agree most wholeheartedly. The ghost-buster dudes are impossible not to root for." 

You chatted a little more about it with him; his way of talking was a bit unique, but somehow you found it just as attractive as everything else. Sadly, your conversation was cut short by the doorbell. As soon as you'd taken a single step in the direction of the door -- 

" -- I'll get that!" declared Ted, with an enthusiasm that was a little frightening, already moving to grab the pizza. 

"Hey, wait, there's money on the counter!" 

"... Oh." 

Backtracking, he grabbed the cash and resumed his course to the door, covering the distance with long strides. 

It wasn't long before the food was gone; and you unceremoniously stuffed the ripped-apart cardboard box into the recycling bin like last time, hoping Mr. Logan wouldn't take issue with how you'd basically just jammed it in. After Deacon had wolfed down maybe three slices, he'd disappeared somewhere. Probably to his room -- you  reminded him to be in bed in time, lest Mr. Logan stop letting you babysit, and he'd only replied with a dull "okay". 

You were practically alone with Ted now. 

"So, uh." He broke the silence as soon as you returned to the living room. "... Wanna go upstairs? There's not much to do down here 'sides watching more movies." 

"I don't see why not," you said without thinking. 

For a second, he looked caught off-guard just as much as you were, (seriously, what) but recovered quickly. "Cool. C'mon, dude." 

Beaming, he motioned to you, and you were helpless to do anything but follow. 

His room was a bit messy, but you would've found it strange if it wasn't. Posters were all over the walls, Metallica and Van Halen and other assorted bands and movies. In the corner was a shelf filled to the brim with various memorabilia; action figures, guitar picks, markers and books that looked kind of dusty. His laundry bin was overflowing a little, but at least it was confined to another corner. Everything was just so Ted and that was probably the best way to describe it. 

He made his way over to the window, opening it just a crack. "Let's just keep the window open so we can hear Dad pulling in the driveway. His car is super loud -- I think he'd go ballistic if you were hanging out with me." 

You knew he was right, but it still struck a minor chord on your heartstrings -- which you attempted to move past as fast as possible. "Oh, yeah. Good thinking." 

At your compliment, he was all smiles again. 

You felt yourself melt a little, and sat on the bed before your knees gave out or something. 

Before long, you were both sprawled out on the carpet playing a serious game of Uno. For a guy who you were learning wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, he was pretty good at making you question your own abilities; either that or he was just extremely, ridiculously lucky. He did have an awful poker face, after all. 

He snickered every time he drew a plus four or plus two card, and blanched whenever he didn't have a playable card. Which was cute, but also pretty advantageous for you. 

After a frustratingly long time of going back and forth; of him denying you every single time you dared call Uno, you finally won. 

"Dude!" Ted exclaimed, throwing down his hand as if deeply and truly offended, but you could see that he was grinning again. "That was totally 'cause I let my guard down." 

"I don't know," you teased, "or maybe it was because of my great and unbeatable card-game skills." 

He hung his head in mock-shame. "You're right. I suck." 

You were conflicted between bullying him a little more or comforting him to lessen the blow of your victory, but before you could decide, you both heard the tell-tale sound of tires crunching on the pavement and the whir of the garage door opening. Ted scrambled over to the window, peeking through the small opening he'd left earlier. 

"He's back," he announced, turning back to face you. 

"Okay," you said, getting to your feet and making sure you hadn't dropped anything. "See you later, Ted." 

" 'Bye!" He called after you.

Thankfully, you managed to make it down to the living room, jump onto the couch, and fumble for the remote just in time to turn on the television a good minute before Mr. Logan entered. During that brief time, you felt strangely like you were a spy, a double-agent -- that if you were caught fraternizing with the enemy, you'd be given grave consequences. 

It was hilarious, you had to admit. 

Mr. Logan didn't ask you about Ted this time, just cutting right to the chase and taking out his wallet.

"Is the change on the counter again?" 

"Yeah," you answered, giving him a "thanks" as he handed you a couple bills. You marveled again at how clean they were -- it almost felt criminal to stuff them in your pocket, but what else could you do? 

Once more, Mr. Logan turned away, going for the counter. "Good night." If he was as disinterested as he sounded, it was no wonder why he didn't try to make small talk with you at all. And you were grateful for it; you were sure that it'd just be awkward and nothing else. You rushed a little to leave. 

But just as your hand turned the doorknob, you were stopped in your tracks by a shout. 

"Wait!" 

Apparently, you and Mr. Logan were both equally shocked, because he also whipped around mid-action. 

In Ted's hasty descent down the stairs, he nearly tripped over himself, but regained what little composure he'd been holding onto, and jogged over to you. Either he didn't notice his father standing there, looking utterly baffled; or he just didn't care. In his hands he was holding a cassette tape. 

He held it out to you, still catching his breath. The color in his cheeks could be attributed to his rush downstairs, but you had a sneaking suspicion that wasn't entirely the case. "Here. Sorry. I was gonna give it to you earlier," bashfulness showed clearly in his expression, "but I forgot." 

It was only a second before you realized that you'd have to exit the situation to avoid any questions from his father -- whose eyes were darting between the two of you in an extremely worrying manner. So you took it from him, even whilst having absolutely no idea what it was. 

"Thanks." 

And with that, you were out the door. 

--

The second you got home, you got a good look at the tape. 

On the outside, written in an untidy scrawl in black Sharpie, was your answer. It was a mixtape. How much time had he spent making this for you? Your mind conjured up an image of him sitting by the record player you'd seen in his room, painstakingly selecting his favorite songs to record. 

Flipping it over, you realized there was a scrap of paper taped to it -- a note. 

You hardly had to think about the question hastily written on it with a bright pink marker, with little stars doodled around the edges. 

It was the only thing that was running through your mind for the rest of the night. They were agonizing, the few days that passed before you finally received a call from Mr. Logan again. It was probably the only time ever that you were glad to hear his voice. 

Deacon was a little disappointed when you told him to wait a minute to watch Raiders of the Lost Ark.

"Don't start loudly making out or anything," he said, sulking as you quickly ascended the stairs. You wanted to scold him for the sake of preserving your own dignity, but you had more pressing matters to focus on at the moment.

"So," Ted began sheepishly, after you entered his room. "You got my note, right?" 

"I listened to the tape, too," you answered near-breathlessly. "Yes. I'd love to spend more time with you, Ted." You smiled broadly. "You're really sweet, you know that?" 

He went bright red in response. 

And then ducked behind his bangs. 

It took him a little while to speak, but you were patient. 

" … thanks, dude. I'm really glad," he finally murmured. "I spent ages making that tape, but it wasn't until I was gonna give it to you that I realized that. Like. Just hanging out like this wasn't gonna be enough. At all."

Right now, the main emotion your brain was registering was giddiness. 

"I'm really glad, too."

[404-mind-not-found]

I MADE A SYNOPSIS AND A SONG LIST FOR THE HYPOTHETICAL FNAF MUSICAL (Well, the first draft, I'll probably change some minor story stuff later) Edit 20/04/2024: Read the second draft instead! Act I is really similar to the actual lore of FNAF up to the MCI, but Act II is when things diverge.

(Actual synopsis text under cut, had the song list too but it wouldn't let me post with it, I'll try again later)

Synopsis ACT I William and Henry meet and create Fredbear's, and later Freddy Fazbear's, and both of their families are introduced (The Spark). Then, it shows the current year of 1983. While William wanted to expand further, Henry was content. Dealing with already existing jealousy plus this new anger, he murders Charlotte to keep him in line (Mine, Forever). Everybody except for Henry moves on from Charlotte's murder, and William continues as normal until his youngest son's birthday (The Birthday). The day seemed to be good for everyone involved. However, due to a prank by Michael and his friends, his head is crushed by Fredbear and he later dies. Charlotte, who was now possessing the Puppet animatronic made to protect her, gives him life inside the Fredbear animatronic. Fredbear's closes because of this, and William scolds Michael harshly (The Bite). Following this, William and Henry have much more frequent arguments, so does the former and his wife, until she disappears. William spends more of his time at Freddy Fazbear's, where he feels the atmosphere has changed. He then investigates the Puppet, finally understanding that her soul was inside the animatronic. Meanwhile, Michael and Elizabeth become closer together as William spends less and less time at home (Agony). William spends the next year and a half studying, finally creating a plan to recreate the events of Charlotte's murder. With this in mind, he decides to go and take the lives of four more children, Elizabeth overhearing the entire thing (Follow Me) ACT II Everybody in town hears about the murders by morning, and Clay starts investigating the situation. He suspects William as the murderer (Eye of the Hurricane). Freddy's closes down. At the Afton house, Elizabeth tells Michael everything that she overheard and the two of them look into all of William's stuff while he was away. Their suspicions are found to be correct (Daddy's Show). They then flee once he returns home. William goes to the room and unveils his hidden experiment: a rabbit animatronic for himself to become. He then decides he needs more Remnant, but knows he can't collect any while Clay suspects him. A few days pass and Jen visits Henry and convinces him to leave Freddy's behind for his sake (Until The End). However, after she leaves, Henry finds a letter telling him to go there. At the restaurant, William plans to murder him and frame it as a suicide done out of guilt to clear his name (Follow Me (Reprise)). Michael steals William's car and goes to Fredbear's with Elizabeth, wanting to find more answers there. They discover Fredbear possessed by their brother, and realise they need to find his father. Henry meets William, who tells him everything then attacks him. Before he can give him the finishing blow, however, his kids appear to stop him. William talks to them, but Michael sees through his ruse (You Can't.). Clay reveals himself, telling Elizabeth and Michael go outside, where they find Fredbear. Elizabeth brings him to the other animatronics, where they move on (Happiest Day). William fights Clay, and Henry stands. He takes Clay's gun and shoots William's leg, allowing Clay to arrest him before becoming weak (Mine, Forever (Reprise)). He, Mike and Elizabeth say their goodbyes. Later, the town closes the case and moves on from the tragedies. After Henry heals, Freddy Fazbear's is remade into a new space for children with the help of Elizabeth and Michael. William's place is gone through and the rabbit suit is demolished to make the sign. (Save Them).

[nocturn-warrior]

I SEE LITTLE LIFE

serpico x reader

Tw: pregnancy

carrying his child (headcanons)

Ok. At first he was panicking. Besides he aways wanted to be a father, he had no clue on how to parent or deal with children, but he was sure you were going to be a good mother.

It all started when you guys, after Griffith and the Godhand got defeated, decided to live peacefully in a cute cottage. Just the two of you.

In a usual bright morning, you woke up feeling sick. You thought it was just something you ate, or just a bad sensation, but the days passed through and you continued to feel this sickness.

Then, you guys decided to visit Schierke so she could give you some herbal medicine or cure you with her magic.

The little witch asked you a few questions before finally getting your diagnosis. She giggled a little bit before telling you guys the news.

You were speachless, and Serpico's narrowed eyes widen open. He looked at you, you looked at him... both of you beaming with internal happiness and panic

He didn't say a word during your way back home. He was just so... happy he couldn't even find the right words to speak up

When you arrived home, Serpico, with his eyes filled up with tears, knealed down hugging your lower body and peppered kisses over your undevelopted bump. His tears wetting the fabric of your dress.

"I promise you i will take care of you and of our child, my lady... for ever and ever. I promise i will love, cherish and care for you two. I promise"

Serpico has aways been so protective, but now he was even more. He basically does all the domestic stuff; cleaning, cooking, washing your clothes. Literally everything. He gets so nervous when you make too much effort, even when you take a walk outside. He knows you are strong, but he can't allow his lady to do so much hard work

At night, he is mostly the big spoon cause he feels like protecting you (and also because is hard for you to be the big spoon having a big bump) but sometimes he scoots down on the bed to the height of your lower body so he can sleep with his face against your belly, ocasionally feeling the baby's kicks. He would affectionatedly rub his nose on the spots the child moves

He loves telling your unborn kid stories, it doesn't matter if they are mythology, tales or your own adventures; he talks to the baby as if they were already out of the womb

Talking about mythology, he would suggest a name like Zephyr for a boy and Ophelia for a girl.

He is very insecure about being a father and is constantly asking Farnese about it

Asks Shierke to make protection sigils to protect you and the baby

[taki-yaki]

Sorry if this is random or comes at a time where you already have a lot of requests, but how do you think Astarion would react to a Tav who has to take care of/raise their younger sibling and has been trying to get back to them in Baldur's Gate the entire journey?

Hi anon, dw I don’t have too many requests atm. I usually get around 2 or 3 at most, sometimes they take a while since I’m usually trying to think of ideas for requests or just busy doing irl things.

But the idea of Astarion having to deal with a Tav with a younger sibling is unique. Also since I’m the youngest sibling in my family, I’ve got some personal tip bits to add.

Astarion x Tav w/ Younger Sibling Headcanons

Astarion usually thought charming another for protection was nothing but a simple task. Go in compliment them, say a few of his favourite lines and then his protection is secured.

But having to deal with your younger sibling is a factor he had not accounted for. Not that he had an issue with you having a sibling, but more of the fact of how much they intervened.

Whenever it seemed you had some time to yourself in the late evenings, when your sibling was ‘presumably’ asleep, he would attempt to make some moves on you, whether it was with some flirting or teasing. When it seemed that he would make some sort of progress with your relationship, the little imp would seemingly appear from nowhere to start asking all sorts of questions.

“What are you doing?, Can I join in? Why do you have white hair, Why are your teeth so sharp?”.

He would try and keep his distance from the child early on. Choosing to forget the last time he was near a child, forced to be reminded of the monster he was that night. The shouts of battle and the screams of the children he dragged away. So why would this one see him as nothing but a heroic adventure after all he only killed a couple of goblins with ease.

When the child discovers that he’s a vampire, along with the rest of the group. But rather than running away in fear, they seem to only be more fascinated by him. 

Of course, they make for a great night's entertainment, with the antics they get up to either blabbing on about the gossip they picked up or saying who they think is your new crush. Being perceptive of others. 

“I’ve heard Tav has been talking with the wizard man”

“Hmm and what have they been saying little one, will you lend me an ear?”

“Some stuff about how strong the strong red lady is, they think she’s foxy, but she doesn’t look like one”

Snickering to himself over the naive comments that they make.

The only moments of peace that he gets with you are when he’s out with you away from camp to help with fights. Leaving the child at camp with Halsin or Wyll to keep watch over them often. 

However, during the fray of one battle, a shrill voice pulled Astarion out of the chaos of battle. The little brat had snuck outside of camp mainly from all the stories that Karlach and Wyll had told them probably, wanting to see their older sibling in battle for themselves.

As they attempt to run over to their sibling, a Gnoll attempts to strike them down, seeing them as nothing but an easy target. Still, he didn’t know what came over him at that moment, either it was to atone for what he did for those gur children or just a gut reaction, he quickly rushed between them, taking the brute of the hit and protecting them, before swiftly knocking the gnoll out.

After the dust had settled, checking them over for any injuries, Tav approached Astaion, 

“I didn’t expect you to be the heroic sort after saving my sibling from doing something so stupid. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Well I can be surprising at times darling, if anything happened to the brat, then you would have been glum about it” before turning his head aside and muttering “And I didn’t want you to see you sad is all”.

Soon after that event, the tyke would badger him even more, seeing him as an idol of sorts. At first, he is miffed by this. But soon leans into it after seeing them attempt to mimic his roguish ways, teaching him how to lockpick chests among other things, which would lead to him being scolded by Tav. 

Although he would find their antics to be bothersome at first, he would eventually learn to grow a soft spot for them and a great deal of respect, with the patience you have for them, even when they’re troublesome, it reminds him of his “siblings”, even when they would give you grief, they would still be there to help in any way they can.

[lavender-romancer]

Loving girl

Tommy Shelby x reader

CW: suicide mentions, grief

You've always known you would be a better partner for Tommy, after Grace died you had to reassess your motivations for being close to Tommy because he needed a friend more than ever before

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

When you were younger it was easier to deal with the unrequited feelings of a teenage crush. Everyone has those feelings when they're around 15, it's not unheard of for them to go away after a few years or even months. But this was incomparably different. You didn't know how to express your feelings in a coherent way to him, the way you had always shown affection towards him was support and material things like buying him cigarettes or baking him something. There was no way to vocalise your feelings because you were so awful with expressing yourself. Instead turning towards sexual and substance based distractions which would allow you to forget about him for a moment.

Tommy didn't care for labels unless there were children involved, he didn't have girlfriends only women he fucked. Grace became his wife because of Charlie and you didn't know if it would have been different if she wasn't pregnant. Tommy Shelby expressed fondness for Grace but nothing which you would call love, responsibility was more important to him.

You so wanted the story of the two of you to end happily, the teasing that the two of you got from the Shelby brothers was enough to make you hope there was something there but it was a story. A story that you liked to manufacture an ending for rather than feelings based in fact. Tommy saw you as his closest friend but since that wouldn't be too popular with his new wife you'd been seeing each other less and less over the years. You still saw the other Shelby's and Michael at the Garrison most evenings and at work but Tommy was scarcely around.

Everyday felt prettier when you saw Tommy, when he was in a room with you it made you feel instantly more comfortable. It had been this way since you were younger, racing to meet him after school and go on a walk together before having dinner at Pol's house. The memories of your youth where your minds just contained an emptiness of anxieties that you'd experience later in life. You'd never seen Tommy quite as anxious as when you saw him after Grace had died. It was the first time the room didn't feel prettier with him being there. you could appreciate the stoic dimness of the lamp on his desk and how the grand windows let in a beautiful amount of light but… just the bags under Thomas' eyes indicated how sleepless these nights had been.

"Got these for you and made you some stuff, don't worry if you don't eat it," you softly placed two packs of cigarettes and a tin of pastries on his desk.

"Thank you," he said gruffly with a nod, immediately looking at the packaging of the cigarettes "The posh ones eh? Spending all that money on me?" He showed the hints of a smile and you took it gratefully.

"I mean, clearly in a slum like this you could do with the glamor of taste," you said sarcastically and he scoffed.

"You always have the worst attempts at humor I've ever heard." Tommy sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh shut up, now give me one of those and we can chat," you held your hand out and Tommy handed you a cigarette which you lit after you sat down on the chair in front of him.

"Chat, hmm? We haven't done that in a while have we." Tommy reminisced.

"I meant to apologise about that. I should've made more of an effort to see you." You pursed your lips uncomfortably but Tommy waved you off.

"Not at all, she wouldn't have liked you being here anyways. It was a good decision, jealousy can fester from any corner of a friendship." Tommy lit his own cigarette.

"How has today been?" You asked.

"Just as shit as the others. My never ending guilt and the wish I had died instead is still such a strong feeling," he paused "Do you think it will ever go away?"

"That's a lot to ask of your unconscious thoughts, Thomas. They're not usually that helpful in normal situations." You smiled at him and he nodded.

"I thought so, Charlie will now grow up without a mother and that's one thing I can't fix with all the money in the world. It's so frustrating." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"How is Charlie?" You changed the subject because you feared that line of conversation would go nowhere.

"You're doing that thing you do again," Tommy looked like he almost smiled.

"What thing?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"The way you change the subject when I start getting emotional so I don't actually get there," he commented and you shrugged.

"It's what friends do isn't it." You took a deep breath in and out.

"You're too considerate for your own good, Y/n." Tommy tapped the ash off his cig and looked into your eyes.

"Only to you," you said quietly.

"I know, I appreciate it. A lot," he paused "I always wondered what it would be like to have that amount of consideration all the time."

"What do you mean?" Your palms began to sweat.

"Just when I'm imagining a world like that, you know? With more people like you," Tommy paused and smiled sadly at you. "It would be infinitely better than what we suffer with now."

"Tommy… you've drank too much today," you said cautiously looking at the half empty whisky bottle on his desk.

"And yet, I'm thinking clearer." He suddenly stood up and walked over to the window.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked.

"How I want to burn it all," he said in a stoic voice and you could have shivered at how serious it sounded.

"Well I don't think arson would be the best move for you next." You smiled to yourself and he let out a small closed mouth smile before leaning the side of his head against the window.

"It's something Michael said when I met him again, that if he saw the pretty white brick wishing well in his old village again he would blow it up just to see the bricks everywhere. I want to do the same thing to this fucking house half the time," Tommy closed his eyes.

"But this is now Charlie's home, you have to think about consistency with his life from now on." You reasoned and Tommy nodded slowly.

"He's the only reason I haven't done it. The only reason I won't." He walked back to his desk and sat down before pouring another whisky as well as one for you.

"Thank you. So, what's next?" You asked, sitting back on the sofa nursing your glass.

"Business, business, business I think. It's the only way I know to distract myself from the enormity of this fucking house and all the fucking loss that's occurred throughout it." Tommy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Why don't you tell me about it? The loss I mean." You proposed and Tommy sounded like he scoffed at the idea.

"Turning into my personal shrink now are you, eh?" He asked.

"I'm being a friend." You said simply and he nodded.

"You're right, but I'm not the man for those kinds of conversations. I don't know how to verbalise any of it," he took a drink. "I do sometimes wish we could go back to being 14, lying in wildflowers without any issues we couldn't solve with a bit of practical thinking. Everthing is so fucking hard now, Y/n and I don't think I can cope with it for much longer."

"You don't mean that, we were just innocents but, we all have to grow up at some point and you decided your life path when you got married and had children within the marriage. You can't back out now to go back to a simpler time or something," You placed the glass down and walked over to the desk.

"Why do you fit so well together?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You're so reasonable and caring and you want to help me even though I've been a terrible friend. You like your job and your house and your social life, everything fits together so well. Whereas I always feel like I'm on the verge of the end everyday." Tommy looked up at you and you shook your head.

"You know I'm even better at lying than you are. That's how I do it, fake confidence, fake togetherness. Whatever it takes to get me through the day because eventually it feels normal to me." You reached over and touched Tommy's hand.

"I used to crave a normal routine but then after the war I couldn't deal with the plague of silence that comes with it. Everytime I would have normality it would be colliding with some kind of crisis I created to make my own life more interesting." Tommy rubbed his temple with his other hand and you frowned.

"And what does wallowing in it do for you?" You asked.

"I know, it's fucking deluded of me. But I don't know how else to get through. How do you deal with grief?" He asked.

"Talking about it for a start, I don't know…screaming sometimes works. When my mum died I punched a wall." You laughed and Tommy smiled to himself.

"I can see myself doing the second thing at least, talking about it makes me want to commit. It's just…so fucking sad because Charlie's mum's died when it should've been me. It was a bullet meant for me." Tommy sighed and you walked around his desk to stand in front of him.

"Come here," you beckoned him to stand in front of you and he slowly got up and straightened his waistcoat.

You pulled him into a deeply needed embrace, Tommy hadn't received any type of comfort that had actually worked until now. He cried. He cried for the mother of his child, he cried for the fact that he didn't love her. But most of all he cried for himself, his own shame at being alive.

Peaky Blinders Taglist:

@queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315 @lovemisshoneybee

[cornfieldsrambles]

I saw your explanation about lords in black and I have a question: tgwdlm the main lord in black is pokey, in black friday it is wiggly, and in npmd, who would it be?

oh god that post is going to haunt me forever (joke)

well, NPMD isn't really that simple I don't think. It's all of them. All five Lords in Black. And I think that makes sense.

Let me back up and explain. So NPMD happened after both Nightmare Times had been released. Obviously NPMD had been "in the works" before then, but for the actual finished show, I think Starkid assumed that a substantial amount of the people watching would've seen Nightmare Time. So I reckon they wanted to give something new to those people, while also not excluding people who hadn't watched it. That's just my assumption, though.

Not every Nightmare Time story is directly related to the Lords in Black.* About half the episodes have a bit more of a 'monster of the week' vibe. Hatchetfield Ape-Man, Forever and Always, Perky’s Buds and Killer Track are some examples. Generally, the pattern goes: a monster of the week, then a Lord in Black, then a monster of the week, then a Lord in Black.**

So when NPMD rolled around and (again, this is kind of me speculating) Starkid wanted to give something new/rewarding to those who watched Nightmare Time, while accommodating those who didn't, so they decided to do both. A particularly memorable and exciting monster-of-the-week is the main event, and we also get to see the Lords. Hatchetfield lore is referenced but you don't need to know much about it, and the stuff you do need to know is communicated through what the characters learn. The Waylons were in a cult and had their weird book which they used to worship Wiggly and co., and now they're dead and their house is cursed or something. Got it.

The other thing about Nightmare Time is... we've already seen each Lord in action. Heck, including TGWDLM we've seen Pokey twice. So what's better than one Lord in Black? FIVE LORDS IN BLACK!!!!!

So having not just Wiggly, but ALL of the Lords - with brand new Tumblr sexyman forms to boot - and showing them in a new and interesting role of pretty much the Deus Ex Machina of the show (this is hands-down the most helpful they've ever been) is something that feels very new and very rewarding to NMT watchers. Like "Oh my god! I know those guys! But it's all of them! This rules!"***

But also, showing Wiggly again gives the non-NMT watchers something to latch onto. Showing his brothers is in itself the new exciting thing, like "Oh my god, it's Wiggly! Wait - there's more of him? What the hell?!" At its core, their purpose in the plot is simple and comprehensible. It's deal-with-the-devil plotline, it's not rocket science. That, and showing all the Lords and dropping crumbs of lore could also get non-NMT watchers excited and interested, and would hopefully entice them to watch Nightmare Time. (Which I am once again encouraging you to do! There's so much you're missing out on!)

So TL;DR - My guess is that Starkid wanted the show to be rewarding to Nightmare Time watchers, and accessible to non-NMT watchers. They did this by combining the two main Nightmare Time episode formats (monster of the week and Lords in Black) in a way that felt new and exciting, wasn't too lore heavy to confuse non-NMTs, but was just lore-y enough to get them interested and feeling rewarding for NMT watchers who already knew about this stuff. So that's why they used all five Lords.

Wow I did not mean for this to turn out so long, I am sorry lol

*If you want to be pedantic, you could say everything/most things in Hatchetfield lead back to things like the Witchwood or the Starry Children or whatever, which arguably lead back to the Lords, but what I mean is not every Nightmare Time is about one or more Lord in Black directly making a mess. The 'monster of the week' things I mentioned are all related to stuff that happened years and years ago, so they don't count as much.

**Okay, NMT2 doesn't really stick to this formula as cleanly, but that doesn't really matter for my point.

***This was pretty much my reaction, after a lot of incoherent excited yelling lmao