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footballffbarbiex · 3 months

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The Single Parent Series.

Me? In love with the concept of a baby daddy? Always.

Mixed players rather than one series about one player. Enjoy. If this goes well, I'll be happy to take more of these requests.

Darwin Nunez: his little girl loved Darwin's braids and wants her own but he can't do them. A trip to the hairdressers results in a hair style class.

Leon Goretzka: his best friend is the only one who can calm down his toddler and Leon has to admit his feelings when it becomes too much.

Leon Goretzka: Leon finds himself falling for a woman who is part of his daughter's life, but the age gap between them proves to be an issue.

Marco Rose: Marco is stressing over his daughter's ballet recital and so in comes the bestie to help him stop stressing.

Marco Rose: Moving back to Leipzig, Marco finds out that his child's favourite teacher just so happens to be an old flame.

Marco Rose: they become friends at the school gates and their children begin to have play dates at one another's house.

Marco Rose: very guarded following a messy divorce and she shows him that he's also very much a man and needs to think of himself too.

Mario Hermoso: best friends and she's there when he needs her the most

Mario Hermoso: Meeting at parent and toddler group.

Mason Mount: after becoming a single dad following a one night stand, Mason's best friend takes part of the hardship and helps to raise the little one.

Mason Mount: your child calls Mason daddy for the first time and even though you're not together, it makes Mason burst with pride.

Mats Hummels: his child comes home from school with news of a school bake sale but Mats cannot bake. Thankfully for him, his best friend is a pastry chef and she can bake.

Oscar Mingueza: he's on a first date when he gets a call to say his babysitter is having to leave due to a family emergency. His date doesn't want to cut it short and is happy to go babysitting.

Ruben Dias: Ruben likes his daughter's ballet teacher but the feelings aren't reciprocated…or are they?

Sergio Ramos: she's Sergio's coach's daughter and when he has childcare issues and has to bring his child to training, she steps up to help with homework.

Trent Alexander-Arnold: she doesn't follow football and has no idea how who he is, and has no idea that he has a child until she hears the little one calling Trent daddy.

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latanyalove · 4 months

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Don’t go

In the poll, Ace got the most votes so I will be writing this and the others will come soon! This story will be a two shot.

Please support me by liking, reblogging and commenting on this! Also please follow for more content!

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Pairing: Portgas D Ace x Y/N

Dialogue: “Don’t go. I don’t even know who I am without you.” 🔥🏴‍☠️

A/n: I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this! <3

✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞

"Ace, are you finished warming the buns," you asked, mixing the baking mix for the next batch. As the delicious smell of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen, you couldn't help but anticipate the mouthwatering treats that were about to come out of the oven.

"For the last time, I'm not an oven," Ace grumbled yet still used his devil fruit to heat up inside your cast iron stove. As the temperature rose, the buns began to brown and release their irresistible aroma, signaling that they were almost ready to be devoured.

Ace took them out and placed them on your table before leaning against the counter and looking in your direction, a mischievous grin on his face.

"I hope you're ready to indulge in some of the most delectable buns you've ever tasted," he said, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"You know they're for the village, right?" you added, finally turning around to see him with the buns.

Ace's mischievous grin widened as he replied, "Oh, I know. But who says we can't have a little taste test of your delicious buns before sharing them with everyone else?"

Blushing at his flirtatious remark, you quickly refocused on the task at hand. Pouring the remaining mixture into the bun tray, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement as you imagined everyone's delight when they tasted your homemade creations.

That was until your hair started to get in the way, you were busy making the buns and forgot to wear a hair net.

"Um, Ace," you started, questioning if you should ask him for a favor.

"Yeah Y/N?" Ace replied.

"Do you think you could lend me a hand and help me find a hair tie? I don't want any loose hairs getting into the buns."

You heard footsteps approaching, but there was no answer.

You then felt a gentle hand push your hair behind your ears, and when you turned to look slightly, you saw Ace standing beside you with a hair tie in his hand, a warm smile on his face.

Your heart skipped a beat at seeing him so close, and you couldn't help but blush.

You felt your heart flutter and you felt your breath catch in your throat. You felt yourself relax as you looked into his eyes, your heart still pounding in your chest.

In that moment, you realized that Ace's presence had a powerful effect on you. His warm smile and close proximity made you feel a whirlwind of emotions, from excitement to nervousness to joy.

It was as if time stood still, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more between you than just a love for baking.

"Hey! Are you two finished? The villagers are getting hungry!" A voice yelled out of nowhere, belonging to Marco.

Startled, you quickly snapped out of your daze and realized that you had been lost in the moment with Ace. With a sheepish smile, you turned to Marco and replied, "Sorry, we got a bit carried away. The buns are ready, we'll bring them out right away!"

Ace quickly tied your hair with the hair tie, making sure no loose strands would get into the buns. Afterward, he stationed himself back by the cast iron stove, ready to assist with the final preparations before bringing the delicious buns out to the hungry villagers.

Unbeknownst to you, Ace's face was as red as a tomato, his whole face flushed with embarrassment. He quickly looked away, hoping you hadn't noticed his blushing. . . .

✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞

As you walked in front of the large group in which they called themselves the 'Whitebeard Pirates', holding nothing while they carried all of the buns, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment.

You had never heard of the 'Whitebeard Crew' before, but perhaps that was because news from the outside world rarely reached your secluded island.

In the midst of your island being destroyed, the 'Whitebeard Crew' arrived just in time to save all of the villagers.

Ever since their arrival, the Whitebeard Crew had been tirelessly working to rebuild the island, restoring it to its former glory. Their dedication and hard work were evident in the progress that had been made, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for their presence and the impact they had on your life.

"Hey, did you hear that there are some pirates around?" you heard a villager say to another frightenedly.

You were shocked when you heard that there were pirates nearby.

Your heart started to race, and beads of sweat formed on your forehead as you tried to process the news. The thought of pirates being nearby filled you with a mix of fear and terror.

You couldn't help but wonder what their presence would mean for the island and its inhabitants. Again.

"What are you thinking about?" Ace's voice interrupted your thoughts, making you jump.

You turned to him, trying to hide your worry, and replied, "I heard there are pirates nearby. I can't help but worry about what that means for our island and everyone here."

Ace's jaw clenched and his eyes darted around nervously, betraying his unease. He took a deep breath before asking curiously, "Why are you so terrified of pirates?"

You let out a deep breath, saying, "They destroyed the village and killed my parents," the words caught in your throat as memories of that fateful day flooded back.

The pain and loss were still raw, and the thought of encountering pirates again brought back a wave of fear and vulnerability.

The screams of the villagers echoed in your ears as the pirates raided the island, their ugly laughter filling the air. The cries of pain and fear, mixed with the sound of gunshots, created a haunting symphony that still haunt your nightmares. The trauma of that day was etched deep within you, fueling your terror at the mere mention of pirates.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Ace muttered as he walked by your side.

Guilt filled Ace's body as he realized that he had not told you that he was a pirate himself. He understood the weight of your fear and the pain you had endured, and he knew that revealing his past would only deepen your wounds.

He felt like a coward for not being honest with you, but he also knew that it was the only way to protect the people he loved. He knew that you needed time and space to heal, and so he kept his secret.

The rest of the walk was silent for the both of you while the rest of the crew were chatting between themselves. Each step carried a heavy weight, burdened by the unspoken truth that hung in the air. Ace's heart ached, knowing that the longer he kept his secret, the harder it would be to reveal it.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed aside your fear and plastered a smile on your face as you all finally arrived at the hall where everyone was gathered to get their afternoon snacks before going back to rebuilding.

The sight of the resilient islanders, working together to rebuild their lives, gave you a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that lingered in your heart.

"Hello guys!" You said excitedly as you walked into the room, trying to hide the lingering fear and pain that still haunted you.

As you helped the islanders in their efforts to rebuild even by baking them food, you couldn't help but be inspired by their resilience and determination to create a better future, despite the horrors of the past.

Their faces lit up with gratitude and joy as they saw you enter the room, carrying trays of freshly baked food. The islanders, weary from the hardships they had endured, found solace in the simple act of sharing a meal together, and their appreciation for your presence was evident in their smiles and expressions of gratitude.

As you distributed the trays of freshly baked food, the islanders couldn't help but gush over the delicious treats. "Wow! They look so good!" exclaimed one islander, while another chimed in with, "I didn't think that you were going to pull this off!"

Even the children couldn't contain their excitement, as one of them eagerly asked, "Mummy! Can I have one!"

Their comments brought a sense of warmth and satisfaction, reminding you that despite the pain and fear that still haunted you, you were making a positive impact on their lives.

As soon as the group set the trays down, the villagers ran over with excitement, their eyes lighting up at the sight of the freshly baked food. They eagerly reached out, their hands grabbing for the treats, their expressions filled with gratitude and anticipation.

You stayed back, watching them devour the buns made you smile with joy. Seeing their hunger satisfied and witnessing the happiness on their faces was a powerful reminder of why you had chosen to stay and help rebuild their lives.

"You know, you should join our crew," Marco said to you as he stood beside you, crossing his arms. "With your baking skills and the positive impact you're making, we could really use someone like you to help us while we're at sea."

Even though you knew he was serious, you chuckled at his comment. "What do you guys even do for a living?" you replied with a smile.

"We're pirates," Marco answered as serious as possible.

You quickly looked at him and didn't see any mischief on his face, but you couldn't help but wonder if he was joking. Pirates?

Quickly, you glanced at Ace, how he nicely chatted with the elderly with a smile on his face.

It was as if the thought of being a pirate had corrupted his once pure aura, leaving you with a sense of unease. . . .

Part 2?

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rookthorne · 1 year

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Grief was no stranger to you — it ebbed and flowed with time; its currents ill-suited to travel for those who were heavily ladened with loss. That was where you came in, offering the comfort of your empathy and gift to those who remained stuck, and to those that passed on. It was how you met him, and it was how you became the light in his otherwise shadowed life.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ☽☾ Grim Reaper!Bucky Barnes x Gifted!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ☽☾ 1.6k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ☽☾ Heavy angst, referenced deaths (a child + a pet), fluff, comfort

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ☽☾ Please, heed the warnings I have given. ☽☾ Given what has happened in my life, imagining someone that comforts me as much as Bucky does — as Death — was beyond healing. ☽☾ To those who are grieving, my heart goes out to you — you are loved, and you will make it through, I promise you.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ☽☾ Saturn (slowed by palomar) by Sleeping At Last ☽☾ Saturn by Sleeping At Last ☽☾ Adiago for Strings, Op. 11 by Samuel Barber, Leonard Bernstein, New York Philharmonic ☽☾ Goodnight Moon by Marco Beltrami

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ☽☾ @sgt-seabass ☽☾ I want to say a huge thank you to my dear friend — even though I made you sob. You knew what this fic meant to me and you soldiered on, making it so much better. Thank you. 🖤

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ☽☾ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟭— Death AU — Masterlist

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Tending to spirits and those passed on was part of who you were. When you were a child, no older than ten years, you had experienced it for the first time – a lost spirit, a young little girl, had called out for help from the corner of your bedroom and had given you one hell of a fright.

She was crying for her mother and father, her dress in tatters and cheeks tear-stained. You learnt that she had wandered out of her family’s backyard and tumbled down an embankment and into a dam.

By the time her mother had found her, it was too late.

You spent the night consoling her, completely at sea for what was happening, and by sunrise, she had vanished into thin air. There were wisps of smoke in her wake, gliding in tendrils to the ceiling and through it.

Over the many years since that fateful night, you learnt that you were gifted – gifted with the ability to sense, see, and hear those that cannot pass on. And, it was how you met him.

The Grim Reaper was known and feared by all – the fear of the end, fear of the unknown, hell, fear of death itself.

You knew of the Grim Reaper, but not in the way that people would have expected.

“I know you’re there,” you whispered, crouching at the headstone of a decades old grave. The wind whistled quietly through the empty branches of the trees above you, and you looked over your shoulder, smiling slightly at the formless haze of black mist. “You can’t sneak up on me. You know that.”

“One of these days,” a deep voice said, and you could just hear the pout in their tone. “I will manage to surprise you.”

“I would hope not, Bucky.”

The haze warped and formed a solid body – a tall figure in a billowing cloak, a charming smile, and piercing blue eyes upturned in a dramatic eye roll. “Semantics.”

You stood from the grave and turned to face him, crossing your arms. Your show of defiance softened his gaze, and he smiled softly. The moon shone above, and under the curtain of his dark hair, you could see the wisps of smoke that made up his face falter and flicker, showing his true form.

“I have missed you, my darling,” Bucky whispered.

Bucky’s embrace was cold, but no less comforting as he squeezed you to his chest. “Me too,” you said, smiling at him as you pulled away. “I was just tidying up. Walk with me?”

“Of course,” Bucky smiled. The roses you had held in your hand felt all the lighter for his presence, and you grabbed his offered elbow, leading him down the row of old graves to place fresh roses when a quiet whoosh sounded behind you. Bucky looked over his shoulder, and his smile turned saddened. “I see you haven’t managed to help this little one.”

Following his gaze, you withered, sniffling slightly as you watched the little ball of bright mist follow in your footsteps. The sound of your grief gave Bucky pause, and his hand came to rest on your cheek. “What is it?”

“I miss them so much.” A flicker of despair shot through Bucky’s usually bright gaze, and you sobbed. “I can’t do it-”

“Breathe, darling,” Bucky urged, pulling you close. His arms were tight across your shoulders and back, and you broke; months of grief and pain hit you all at once. “I’m here, my precious. I have you. I’m so sorry.”

Bucky held you close, letting you grieve in his arms and absolve you of your pain. He knew how cruel it had been to take away your smallest, closest friend – he hadn’t wanted to do it, he had begged and pleaded for things to be different, but it didn’t work. Nature took its course, and he had cursed that day to high heaven.

Moments passed until you were finally able to breathe, and you clutched at his chest, his arms, just to feel him – to know he was real.

“Here,” Bucky said softly, and he gestured to the ball of mist until it brightened and expanded into the form of your best friend. “They can walk with us, after all,” he paused, a small smirk forming on his pale lips. "Not everyone cares as much as you for these souls, my darling. At least, not enough to leave flowers for those that have long since moved on.”

“Oh, baby,” you rushed, and Bucky let you go so you could kneel in front of the spirit of your best friend. “I have missed you.”

A quiet noise of greeting sounded from the mist, and Bucky pulled you gently to your feet, his free hand now holding the bouquet of roses. “What have you been up to?”

The two of you walked through the cemetery, placing roses at every grave that lay bare as you spoke and told him all about your life as a mortal, and Bucky hummed and occasionally interjected with a sly smile or a shake of his head. “How about you?” You asked, smiling at him.

Bucky only shrugged, the movement shifting his long hair and causing a stray wisp of mist to expose his shoulder. “It is as it always has been,” he offered, smiling sadly. “I can only offer so much comfort to those whose time has come, but they remain afraid of me nonetheless.”

“You’re kind, Bucky,” you hastened to say, pulling him to stop, and he looked into your face sullenly – defeated. “You always have been kind, and you have never taken someone when it wasn’t their time. You cannot help what nature intended, even if it hurts, I know that,” you added softly, staring down at the bright bounding form at both your feet. “Without you, it would be something else, and whatever they may be, they would not be as compassionate as you.”

“But they are afraid of me,” Bucky interjected, gesturing at himself. “I do not want to hurt them, I do not want to cause pain, I-”

“You are my Bucky. You are the love of my life, and even if I cannot truly have you, you will always have my heart – I am the moon,” you begin, clutching at his hands and giving them a slight shake. “My heart will always love and welcome the dark. You are not at fault for how nature is. Do you understand me?”

Silence echoed amongst the graves. Your heavy breaths made your shoulders rise and fall as you stared at Bucky, pleading for him to realise – to understand.

“Are you afraid of me?”

The question split your heart in half with its severity, and you exhaled sharply. “No.”

“No?”

“No,” you affirmed, stepping into his space. “No, I am not afraid of you and will never be afraid of you.”

The graveyard fell away, bit by bit, and you pulled Bucky into your chest. It wasn’t just you who was grieving, hurting with the heavy burden of pain. “Walk with me,” you whispered into Bucky’s hair. Taking hold of his hand, you pulled back to smile at him. “We have many more flowers to place.”

A heavy silence settled in the air while you guided Bucky through the headstones, smiling softly at the mist excitedly running amok at your feet still. The illumination of the moon lit your path to an ancient grouping of gravestones, the marble and stone crumbling under the weight of age. “I have to try and restore these,” you pondered aloud, gently touching one of the many splits in the stone, when you paused. You felt eyes watching you, and you looked up to see Bucky a step away, gazing at you sadly. “What?”

You tilted your head, frowning, but before you could open your mouth to speak, Bucky started, his voice laced with unfathomable pain. “I have to go, my darling, and I have to take them,” he gestured to the glowing mist with a pale hand, “with me.”

“I know.” Leaves crunched under your shoes as you knelt to face your best friend, and you felt the cold touch of their nose against yours. “I could never hate you, Bucky. Never.”

Bucky stepped closer then, and you rose to meet him. “After all, my love,” you began softly, moving your hands to hold his head and gaze. “I will see them again when my time comes. It’s not the end. It’s just goodbye for now.”

A heavy breath left Bucky’s lips, and you pulled him closer, kissing him tenderly and he kissed back in earnest, his hands moving to your waist to grip you tightly.

When Bucky pulled back, you stared at him through glassy eyes, and you felt the cold touch of his hand against your cheek as he brushed the tears away with his thumb. “My angel, always my strength.”

“Always,” you whispered, and Bucky smiled sadly.

“Until I see you again, my darling,” Bucky said, his form starting to waver. “I love you.”

“I love you more, Bucky,” you said, your voice stronger than you felt. The ball of mist at your feet made a soft sound, and you glanced down. “I will see you again, baby, you take care of Bucky for me, okay?” The mist bobbed up and down in the air and you grinned. “Thank you, baby.”

The mist that Bucky had appeared from took him away with another soft whoosh, and you fell to your knees, the burden of grief not lifted, but lightened.

For what is grief, if not the perseverance of love?

he may, or may not come back. because he now has a very dear place in my heart.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #connect4AU #rookthorne's works #POL

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onmyyan · 1 year

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scorpio anon got me feelin some tingz with that time machine ask and now im brainrotting on how our boys would be if you took their virginity so, lemme set the scene

Reader is a bad gal okay? She's not completely stupid but maybe a bit of a bimbo and word on the street is She's got good pussy. Somehow (idk how) the boys end up choosing her as their darling so ofc they need to get it in right? Ok ok anyways this is how i imagine they would be like puttining it in for the first time

Cas: im sorry but he cums before he even puts it in. Literally creams his pants when you push him down and sit on his face and then cums again once he gets his fat tip in 🤧

Gabe: mans is TOO excited, literally laying back so ready to lose his v card, maybe reader teases him a bit for being a cherry boy so he slams her on his dick (gabe no 💀) but luckily she's wet so he just bounces her like that

Ricky: babygirl is so nervous, he's got the candles and rose petals set up (something cas told him) and he's horny gripping the sheets behind your head until you sit him down and calm him down and tell him its ok before you ride him. Baby thought he needed to be the top bc he's a man 😞

Marcos: ohhhh lawd, you started it all for him. Reader is prolly his tragic backstory 💀 like she popped marcos' cherry and he was ready to get married and then she was fuckin someone else the next day so he did the same to get her attention but never got it lmao. I think he'd last surprisingly long, second only to....

Manny!!! Baby is feral and somehow never cums? Like he's the virgin but he's the one eating your ass out, eating you upside down literally doin all kinds of weird foreplay, u literally gotta tie his ass to the chair finally get him in you and then he's sooo babygirl but he's got such endurance, he'd be the best service top ugh

Ashley would be childhood sweatheart kinda beat, he would lose it in one of the fields between your two houses aftwr he fucking finally confesses to you and he goes from your shy hot best friend to daddy out of nowhere 😭 possessive fucking and telling you that youre his now, no more games (and mayhaps he knocks u up on the first try 👀)

-shamelessly gonna rip this but can i be ♌️ anon

You are so smart,,,,,ohmygod???? The Manny one had me blushing n biting my pillow bec??? Hello??? You're so smart ??? Also Ashley absolutely the type to get you pregnant that first time just because of how damn near feral he gets also also the idea of being the woman who breaks Marcos heart initially and turning him into the slut he is?!?!?! Chefs kiss all around I love how your brain works 👩🏼‍🍳😘

♌ anon it is ❤️❤️❤️

#yananswers #anon submission #delmont brothers

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wheresarizona · 2 years

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Baby Names

summary: Choosing baby names with Javier is not as easy as you hoped.

rating: G (This is FLUFF. Soft Javier Peña, Dad-to-be Javier Peña, Husband Javier Peña, Javier being in love with his wife, and stoked to be having a kid, domestic fluff, pregnancy, food mention, banter)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

word count: 1.4k of pure fluff

a/n: This can be read as a standalone or as part of the Learning to Live ‘verse. In the LTL ‘verse, this takes place sometime in the future and is actual facts canon. An anon asked what Javier and his wife would name their kids, and here is the answer. All my thanks to my love, @juletheghoul, for looking over this and helping me. I love you.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Part 1 - Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

“How do you feel about Marco?” You asked.

You were sitting in bed, your back propped up with pillows and holding the baby name book. Javi was resting his head on your belly that had really started taking shape—visible evidence that you were, in fact, pregnant. There were the other symptoms, of course. It took you two missed periods and getting sick at the smell of bacon to realize something was up, and your suspicions were confirmed after taking six at-home pregnancy tests. You’d waited to tell Javi until after getting confirmation from a doctor, and the man had been so excited—was still excited, about becoming a father; it was something you both had wanted for some time.

Javi had your shirt pulled up to just under your breasts. His big palm was rubbing against the side of your baby bump, pressing his ear to it like he was trying to hear the sweet potato-sized baby currently fluttering around inside you—a soft look on his face as he gazed at you with a relaxed smile on his lips.

“I have a cousin named Marco,” Javi replied.

“Oh, right. He has that restaurant in Austin we still need to check out.”

“Yeah, the Tex-Mex place. Something we’ll have to do after the baby’s born.”

Your head tilted, looking over the book at him.

“Why after?” You asked.

His eyebrow rose.

“Baby, you get heartburn eating Taco Bell. Imagine eating real food.”

The exceptionally bad heartburn was another symptom of growing a human.

You frowned.

“Taco Bell is real food.”

“Taco Bell is shit.”

“Taco Bell is delicious, and you’re mean,” you pouted.

“I’m not mean. I’m right. If you want Mexican, I’ll get you El Mercadito.”

They had the best tacos in Laredo, and it was your favorite restaurant, as well as Javi’s.

“You know I love El Mercadito, but they aren’t open till midnight like Taco Bell is.”

Javi sighed.

“As I was saying, you wouldn’t be able to enjoy my cousin’s food, so we’ll wait.”

It was your turn to sigh.

“I would’ve second-guessed my addiction to being your little creampuff if I’d known it would result in me not being able to enjoy delicious food.”

Javi’s eyes went round as he frowned.

“I’m sorry, mi Cielito,” and you could tell he genuinely was.

You reached out a hand to cup his cheek.

“It’s okay,” you smiled. “I get to have your cute little baby, and that makes it all worth it.”

Javi smiled, kissing your palm.

“Hopefully, they look more like you,” he said. “You’re the cute one in this relationship.”

You snorted.

“Stop it. You’re literally the hottest man alive. Our kid better have your looks.”

“How about a good mix of us both?” He reasoned.

You thought it over.

“I’m okay with that,” you conceded.

“Good,” he kissed your palm again.

You went back to reading the book.

“Thoughts on Marcus?”

“Knew a guy in high school named Marcus.”

You lowered the book to look at him again.

“So, is it a no then?” You asked.

“It’s a no.”

You nodded, beginning to read again.

“Mario? Actually, I’m saying no to that one—makes me think of an Italian plumber.”

Javi snorted.

“Mason?” You asked.

“No,” he answered right away.

You giggled.

“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling it either.” You turned the page, eyes scanning and moving to the next one. So many names, and nothing was jumping out at you. This was a lot harder than you expected. “What about Oscar?” You asked, laughing when you moved the book and saw him making a face.

“I like our first choice,” Javi said, turning his head to kiss your tummy.

“I do, too, but we haven’t gone through all the boy names. What if there’s something else we like more?”

He sighed.

“I don’t think we will, and there’s still a chance it could be a girl,” he pointed out.

Your ultrasound to find out the gender was in a couple of days.

“Why was figuring out a girl’s name so much easier?” You asked.

“Because it just made sense. I think we should stick with what we liked originally for a boy.”

You chewed on your lip.

“You’re sure you don’t like Javier Junior?” You asked.

He huffed out an amused breath.

“We’re not naming our kid after me—one Javier Peña is all the world needs.”

“I don’t know. We could call him JJ for short.”

He gave you a look before turning his attention to your stomach, speaking against it as if he wanted to make sure the baby could hear.

“Your mother has questionable taste in names—”

“Hey!” You said, making him chuckle when you playfully hit him with the book.

“But don’t worry, amorsito (little love),” Javi continued. “I’ll make sure you get a good one.” He kissed your belly, and you couldn’t help but melt a little.

One of his new favorite pastimes was talking to your tummy, Javi whispering things in Spanish and English. You’d woken up to him quietly talking to the baby many times, never making out what he was saying because you were too sleepy.

“You’re really settled on it?” You asked.

His lips pressed against your skin one more time, and he moved, crawling up to lay next to you on his side, one hand resting on your bump and the other propping up his head.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Already started using them in my head.”

“And here I am referring to them as JJ in my head.”

“Javier isn’t a girl's name,” he said slowly.

“But Javiera is,” you replied.

“We’re not naming our baby after me.”

You set the book down on your chest and pressed a palm against his cheek.

“I know,” you smiled. “When I think of our child, and I picture them, I just imagine those photographs your dad showed me of when you were a kid. I just envision our baby looking like a little copy of you, and it delights me because you were really fucking cute. So, JJ in my head until we’ve decided on a name.”

He was smiling at you adoringly.

“I think we’ve decided,” he said.

Your other hand moved to settle on top of his on your stomach.

“I think we have, too. We’ll have a little Agustín or Marisol Peña, soon.”

“Yes, we will,” he nodded, smiling brightly as he leaned in to kiss you.

Your stomach started growling.

“Javi?” You asked when he pulled back to look at you.

“Yes, Cielito?”

“I know it’s,” you glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “Eleven, but the baby wants Taco Bell,” you gave him big eyes.

He sighed, kissing you quickly before moving to get off the bed.

He was only wearing boxers, pulling open a dresser drawer to grab his sweats and pull them on, getting a t-shirt, too, and putting it on.

“What does the baby want?” He asked fondly once dressed.

You rubbed your tummy.

“They don’t know,” you frowned. “They just want Taco Bell.”

“Okay,” he nodded, walking around the bed to kiss you tenderly. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“You’re the literal best, and I love you.”

He smiled.

“I love you, too,” he kissed you again. “Anything for my wife.” He leaned down to kiss your belly. “Anything for you, too, amorsito,” he murmured against your skin. “Not even born yet, and you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”

He kissed you one last time, and you watched him leave.

When Javi returned forty-five minutes later, his arms were filled with paper bags, and you could smell the food, your mouth watering as he brought it all into the bedroom and set it on the bed.

“I got one of everything on the menu,” he said as he walked to the bathroom and returned with a towel to make sure you didn’t get anything in the blankets, and your doctor prescribed antacids to keep the heartburn at a minimum. “Figured that was the safest way to make sure you got what you wanted.”

“Javi, this is so much food,” you said, pulling out a soft taco.

He got onto the mattress, sitting next to you.

“Whatever you don’t eat, I'll take to the office tomorrow,” he shrugged.

You looked at him.

“I don’t think you understand the craving, babe. This food is mine,” you said, wrapping your arms around the bags to pull them closer to you. “And I’m literally going to eat it for the next two days.”

“Craving’s that bad?” He asked.

“Oh yeah. I’m glad you don’t like it because I’m not too sure I’d be able to share.”

He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you.

“I love you,” he said against your lips. “I love you both.” He put his hand on your belly.

“We love you, too.”

Part 1 - Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

Tagging: @theorganasolo @nicolethered @whatfandomnow @lola766 @nessamc @vanemando15 @muffinengineer86 @fiscinthirst @melancholyy-hill @hnt-escape @sherala007 @jadesabre83 @rainbeaubrightchild @blub-senpai @pedrohoe04 @ncsls0515 @theherothesavior @captain-creampuff @javiersjeans @zetasaturno99 @amb11 @lovedbyth3sun @siidereeus @marvelousmermaid @mrszdjarin @themarcusmoreno @woomen23 @ms-loverman-066 @star-wars-fan-2005 @kissing-stars @chloeinpink @notyourlovemonkey @unofficialavenger90 @fictionismyreality @absurdthirst @kirsteng42 @littlemisspascal @thevoiceinyourheadx @allfoolsinluv @katareyoudrilling @grimeysociety @iamskyereads @beecastle @enjoyourlattebitch @daddydindjarin @athalien @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier peña x reader #Javier Peña/Reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena/reader #wheresarizona writes #learning to live series

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thevagabondexpress · 1 year

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let's take a closer look at christopher, matthew, and their shared love of downworld, shall we?

On the surface, when you read them, Matthew Fairchild and Christopher Lightwood are wildly disparate characters. They have almost nothing in common. But then we get to the Shadow Market in Chain of Iron, and suddenly—suddenly Christopher Lightwood is a whole different man from the owlish, absentminded, socially inept little being we see around his friends and among the Enclave in general.

He's street-smart, avoiding the dangers of the Shadow Market with the practiced ease of many, many visits, he haggles like an expert (to quote Cordelia), and what's more, he's openly Nephilim in a place that seems to generally despise Shadowhunters and yet he and the vendors are familiar, even friendly with each other, Christopher chats as comfortably as he haggles, and in general he seems far more comfortable there than he does among the Nephilim of the Enclave, even those he considers his closest friends.

Up until then, Matthew and Anna were the characters we associated with Downworld. They frequent the Hell Ruelle, and are welcome and beloved there, and it's made clear that Matthew adores the Downworlders and their way of life, watching with starstruck eyes and longing to join in.

Matthew is the Downworlder lover extraordinaire—or is he? Hypatia states quite plainly in Chain of Gold that Matthew is welcomed into the Ruelle because he's pretty and amusing: he's there as a lovely plaything, a pawn of the other guests, a runed curiosity who can't seem to keep it in his pants and doesn't seem to realize that he can say no. The way he's treated by the Hell Ruelle is exploitative at best. And in the Shadow Market? He's swindled and snubbed like everyone else. Matthew adores the Downworld, but he looks at it through glittering rose-colored glasses, viewing it with the fetishized fascination for the exotic of a British colonist writing a travelogue of the Near East. He's Lawrence of Arabia, Marco Polo, Gertrude Bell.

Christopher in the Shadow Market, by contrast, is one of them already. "Christopher Lightwood!" one vendor calls. "Just the man I was hoping to see!" Granted, I don't know how they'd treat him if he wasn't such an extravagant spender but I imagine he would still be welcomed, if perhaps not hailed so loudly. But why? Christopher isn't scandalous, or extravagant. From everything we've seen he holds himself to high standards and lives a fairly clean lifestyle: he doesn't sleep around, he doesn't smoke, he doesn't do drugs or drink to excess.

But at the same time, while Matthew does do those things, he also gets treated like a toy by the Ruelle, and I am willing to bet you the moment he puts his foot down and says no to somebody, they'll stop letting him in.

Christopher, on the other hand, is humble. We're shown frequently through his interactions with his friends and family and other members of the Enclave that he doesn't place himself higher and believe himself better than anyone else. Neither does he seem to buy the prejudices those around him seem to hold: why should women, or Downworlders, or people of color, be considered lesser than someone else? He considers everyone on equal footing in that respect and judges them based on who they are as individual persons. And even then he shows a great capacity for leniency and forgiveness: he's the first of them to accept Grace, and while he goes along with his friends' hatred of Alastair in spirit, his actions don't suggest he really dislikes Alastair that much at all (except when he's insulting Anna, that is).

We see all of those behaviors from a distance in the Shadow Market scene, in the way he haggles and chats with the vendors and the fact that he doesn't seem either afraid of or bedazzled by the Market at all.

Ultimately, Christopher surpasses Matthew when it comes to knowledge of and position within the Downworld. Where Matthew treats the Downworld like a curio cabinet, and is exploited for his hedonist nature in turn, Christopher treats the denizens of the Shadow Market as equals, and receives equal treatment back from them, welcomed as a customer, a regular, yea even a friend.

TL; DR, Christopher has always been the true Downworlder spirit, and Matthew needs to wake up and put his foot down before he gets himself seriously hurt—again.

#christopher lightwood #matthew fairchild #the last hours #blue's tsc analysis

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lale-txt · 2 years

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Raffle Prize: Riot w/ Whitebeard & gn!reader

a/n: 3rd raffle prize for my beloved @secretsnailor (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡ Bee asked for a scenario where reader gets injured during a battle and Whitebeard just goes off with some comfort afterwards. my dear, it's always so much fun writing Whitebeard for you, thank you for the fun prompt and congrats again for being one of the lucky winners! ♡

contains: mention of blood (nothing super descriptive but reader suffers a hit on the head)

word count: 1k

It all happened within the blink of an eye.

You had let your guard down, irritated by someone calling out your name in the midst of the battle. Was it your imagination? Was it one of your comrades in need of help? It was impossible to figure out what was happening in the storm of voices and gunshots surrounding you, the sound of swords clashing ringing in your ears. In the corner of your eye you made out a kaleidoscope of blue and orange flames, and somewhere to your right you noticed Izou and Thatch standing back to back as they made the enemies drop like flies.

Panic rose in your chest when you couldn’t make out the broad silhouette of Whitebeard in the fray; you would have assumed that a man of his height would be easy to spot, but he had disappeared from your sight completely. Did something happen to him? Was it him who called out your name? You slashed at some foe who had the audacity to underestimate you and just when you were about to move forward, a sharp pain flashed through you with an intensity that drove you to your knees. The back of your head was throbbing, you felt dizzy, trying to understand what just happened.

You tried to breathe through the pain with gritted teeth, your vision blurry from the impact and blood dripping down your face. Leaving your back unguarded, what a foolish mistake. All because your heart had yearned for Edward, sorrow bubbling up in it and making you drop your guard before you could have convinced yourself that he was fine; he was the strongest after all. You whined as you reached for the open wound. Nothing Marco couldn’t fix, but until then you somehow had to make it out of here alive.

“What happened? Who did this to you?”

A voice so low and threatening, a big hand scooping you up carefully. You feel warm skin against yours and don’t need to open your eyes to know that he was here now, that you were safe. Your fingers claw into his coat while you still try not to black out from the pain pulsating through every fiber of your body. You mumble out Edward’s name weakly, making him tense up, blind rage flaring up in his stomach – caused by seeing the love of his life hurt like that, by his own irresponsibility to leave you unguarded for a heartbeat, by the horde of bastards who were foolish enough to pick a fight with his family in the first place.

He’s gonna bring them down, one by one.

You feel Whitebeard’s grip around your waist tighten and hear him calling out for Marco, his voice roaring over the battlefield. His whole body vibrates under your fingertips and you can’t tell if it’s the adrenaline rushing through his veins or if it’s his devil fruit ability, barely contained. He puts you down near some big rock, hidden away from the eyes of others by the tall grass surrounding it.

Your vision is still blurred and you can feel your consciousness slipping away slowly, but you don’t fight it – with Whitebeard’s big calloused hand brushing over your cheeks he reassures you that you’re safe now. A few heartbeats later and you make out Marco’s voice, the two men talking in hush voices, until you feel the soothing cold of the phoenix’ flames encasing you. You sigh from the instant pain relief.

“See? All patched up, yoi.” Marco rests a hand on top of your hand and turns toward Whitebeard. “What now, pops?” “I’m gonna put an end to this.”

You rest your still throbbing head against the rock, grateful for Marco’s healing powers, and rub your eyes, blinking away the blood and the dirt, enough to see Whitebeard’s broad back as he walks into the midst of the battlefield, one fist clenched around his naginata. The jolly roger tattoo is hit directly by the sun and once again you’re reminded of how deep his love and devotion runs – for his found family and for you.

The whole air seems electrified once he goes off, unleashing the incredible power he holds and teaching the foe a lesson on humility. You hear the cheerful cries of your crewmates as you lean back smiling, letting the rumbles of his devil fruit powers comfort you. Marco standing next to you whistles through his teeth and flies off once again after exchanging a smile and making sure that you’re okay, knowing well that a certain someone will come pick you up in a heartbeat anyway.

And so when a little later your favorite voice calls out your name, you open your eyes again and beam, reaching out for him to pick you up. Whitebeard is gentle with you, a sheer contrast to the way he just routed the other crew a few minutes prior. He has both hands wrapped around you and lifts you up close to his face where you nuzzle in the crook of his neck, your fingers twirling around the golden curls of his. You feel his pulse under you, heart still beating fast from the rush earlier, and whisper his name against his skin.

“I’m sorry for letting you out of sight. Does it still hurt?” You shake your head and smile when he places a kiss on your cheek, handling you as if you were made of glass. “I was just being reckless for a moment. And because I couldn’t make you out in the crowd…”

You mumble the last part, a little bit flustered, but Whitebeard just laughs out loud, his whole body shaking from it. He squeezes you tighter and seeks your gaze, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. The way he looks at you can only be described as full of love and longing. After all, you are the owner of his heart; cracked it wide open and filled it with flowers, written your name all over its walls.

“Now let's get you home. After this day all I’m craving is some booze and lay down with you…”

#whitebeard #edward newgate #whitebeard x reader #edward newgate x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece reader insert #one piece scenario #one piece imagine #lale's anniversary raffle

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barbwritesstuff · 5 months

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Can you talk some about your character creation process? I know its most evident in Sergi but I'd love to hear how some of the other characters changed over the course of writing. Mainly asking about Blood Moon just because with TT still in development I imagine those guys are all still wiggling around

Okay, some random Blood Moon examples:

Farro's shyness. My original concept was just "lumberjack dad" but when he appeared on page his shyness was immediate and obvious. I was like 'okay... we can work with this...' and I think it did work in more ways than one, but it wasn't built into his original concept.

Vicky's gentleness. She was always meant to be the warrior with a traumatic past (Batman and Xena as inspirations) but I didn't know that would translate into her being super soft in romantic situations. But, that worked so well and made so much sense.

Marco's tattoos having special meaning for him as part of his transition. He got rose tattoos at first because I thought that sounded cool. Literally just that. No other reason. When the character turned around and said 'oh, by the way, I got a new rose everytime I felt like I needed to cut off my tits but couldn't. I decided to leave my pack and transition during this last rose'... That was a surprise to me.

Everything Sergi. He was meant to be a background character, the slightly more jokey version of Nikolas. He really clawed his way up from the bottom.

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ejunkiet · 1 year

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wip wednesday~

marco brain rot has been real. here is a snippet of a sequel to say it again / bioluminescence , as my theory about marco having a praise kink is still going strong >:3

blood moon if ( @barbwritesstuff): marco/mc. post-game, some spoilers!

You’re doing so well, Marco

You don’t miss the hitch in his breath, or the way his eyes narrow at you, piercing blue over the heads of the rest of your pack. You don’t miss the subtle shift in his scent either, the tang of it sweet on the air, or the flush that rises to his cheeks as Addie snorts, throwing you both a knowing look.

There’s a thrill to it, working him up in a space like this. Knowing that he can’t act on it, can’t do anything but wait.

(There’s a lot of work left to do, he’s going to be waiting a while.)

You’ve never minded getting your hands dirty. Hell, after the mess of the last few months, the confrontation with Blackwell and its aftermath, it’s a relief to be free from the stench of undead blood. A little sweat and exertion is nothing.

Besides, it’s a good look on him. Marco has always been stronger than he looks, wiry muscle on a lean frame, but there’s no masking his strength now, the loose tank top he’s wearing leaving little to the imagination. You can see everything, the way his muscles flex as he moves, tight with the motion and the heat of late summer.

(The dark lines of the roses tattooed on his skin gleam under a sheen of sweat, and you can’t help but remember how you’d mapped the shape of them last night, with lips and teeth, the taste of his sweat sharp on your tongue.)

You swallow around the thought, flexing your grip on the sledgehammer in your hands. But your distraction doesn’t go unnoticed, and Marco pauses, his nostrils flaring as he breathes in, deep, before his blue eyes find yours again, and he gives you a sharp grin.

“Okay, that’s enough.” You blink as Addie pushes herself to her feet, her steely gaze stern over the thin wire frames of her glasses. “You’re both too distracted for this work. Out.”

“But-”

“No ‘buts’. If you two are going to keep making moon-eyes at each other, someone is gonna have an accident.”

Marco winces, a flush rising up the pale skin of his neck, vivid under the fluorescent lights, and you want to taste it, feel the heat of it against your lips.

You shake your head, banishing the thought as you raise your hands, palms out, in surrender. “I’m sorry, Addie. We’ll do better, I promise.”

She lets out a low huff, her eyes sharp and disapproving as she glances between the two of you. The flush spreads across Marco’s cheeks, until you think he’s gonna burn beneath it, but just before he cracks, she relents.

“Look. We can handle the rest.” She shakes her head as you open your mouth to speak, a wry smile tugging at her lips as she shuts you down. “You’ve both done good work, and you’ve earned a break. Now go.”

tagging- you, reading this! also (no pressure!): @evilbunnyking @serenpedac @androleda @pinksparkl @romirola @dominimoonbeam @glassbearclock @slushrottweiler @lovelylonerliterature @k9rage

#blood moon if #bloodmoon if #look LOOK #werewolves #wip wednesday #ej writes werewoofs #i'm switching back to my original work #so a longer snippet as I have ZERO idea when this will be done #but I love marco okay #writing

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quinloki · 3 months

Note

Rose petal! What traditions do you and your F/O share?

Hmmm… traditions are a hard thing to nail down sometimes because you don’t realize what they are. So we’ll go with some big ones and any small ones that come to mind while I’m working on this.

Thanks to this song:

I imagine 100% that the biggest tradition with Kid and his crew is Christmas - or whatever title/label/alternative you want to use for what’s effectively a massive winter feast.

I think the whole crew gets into it - and it’s loud and full of laughter and cheer and a few fights and a lot of beer and certainly an exchange of “gifts”, be they sincere or severe xD it’s always been a positive holiday for me, so it’s certainly a tradition close to my heart.

With Marco I think a spring festival is more the shared tradition, or a harvest festival - something that rings in the days of plenty or something that pays homage to preparing for the days of lean.

It’s the transitional vibe of it more than anything. Maybe cause he transforms, and what he transforms into is itself an allegory of transition.

But these festivals are usually centered around food and family and less around gifts and giving. Not that I think he’s against gifts in either manner, but the more familial vibe also draws him in. (Also pineapple hams are a big part of both feasts for me growing up xD so there’s that too!)

Sabo I think is good for anything that lets him celebrate with Ace and Luffy xD birthday parties, new years, etc. he’s not big on tradition for the sake of it, but he’ll utilize the foundations of it to build up what brings him and his closest joy.

Alas, for better or worse that’s all I have for this right now , Harley has commandeered my lap

#ask game #self ship #razzledazzleelderberry #quin answers #cat pictures

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footballffbarbiex · 6 months

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Single parent multi player series

Yes yes I know. Hi, I'm Amy and I have an addiction to new plots and taking requests even when I shouldn't. So sue me.

I will also probably look to do a multi chapter of one person with the idea that I have in mind, but because of so many people putting forward some excellent suggestions, I'm temporarily opening up single dad requests.

You can request it be that he meets either a single woman or single parent too, or like with my idea, it features a single dad with his best friend battling through babyhood with one another (whether you want them to realise they want to do this together as a couple is up to you).

I am open to maybe doing a second part to some of these requests if wanted or if the plot feels there is more to go on than a simple one shot.

(I didn't know what to tag below as so I've included the tags for some of the players who were put forward. you can also request the likes of Charles Leclerc too if he tickles your pickle)

SEND IN YOUR REQUESTS HERE.

#mason mount imagine #mason mount #dominik szoboszlai imagine #virgil van dijk imagine #Leon goretzka imagine #ben chilwell imagine #Marco rose imagine #football imagine #football one shot #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #football blurb #football fanfiction #football fanfic #football drabble

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theroseandthebeast · 5 months

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Yuletide Recs, Batch Four

18 recs for North and South, The OC, Ocean's 8, Ocean's Eleven, Only Murders in the Building, Penny Dreadful, Peter Pan, Piranesi, Point Break, and Poker Face

Keeping True, Gen, John Thornton + Hannah Thornton + Fanny Thornton + Maria Hale + Nicholas Higgins + Mill Workers

Five views of Mr Thornton.

"if you weren't real i would make you up", Ryan Atwood & Summer Roberts + Seth Cohen/Summer Roberts

Tell the truth, but tell it like it’s a lie. Ryan Atwood grows up, and his relationships grow up with him.

Magpie, Ryan Atwood & Sandy Cohen + Ryan Atwood & Kirsten Cohen + Ryan Atwood/Marissa Cooper

Going fast enough, there was motion to it, and shape. The wires dipped in-between the poles, then curved back upward, then back down again - a never ending parabolic curve, like a child's drawing of ocean waves. He would imagine different creatures running on top of the wires - tigers, pandas, lions, cheetahs, or even a little miniature version of himself - running and leaping, keeping up with the car. He'd follow the horizon this way too - holding up one of his toy army men and lining up its legs with the line where the land met the sky. On the interstate, outside of the city, driving past farms and craggy hills and suburban enclaves, bunches of houses crowded up in little clusters like fungus erupting through the cracks in a tree's bark - everything looked like a toy. Like he could roll down the window and just scoop everything up, pull the whole world inside to look at it closer.

Encountering the Nova, Lou Miller/Debbie Ocean

Galaxies of women, there doing penance for impetuousness. Debbie and Lou meet cute.

somebody else's wallet, Danny Ocean/Rusty Ryan

When you look at another man for too long, you risk giving several things away.

What Really Happened with Marco, Danny Ocean/Rusty Ryan

Rusty visits Danny's grave, and remembers. Meanwhile, everyone has a story to tell about Danny and Rusty.

in the meantime, wait and see, Oliver Putnam/Charles-Haden Savage

Mabel Mora loves her old guys dearly, but she is getting tired of them sabotaging each other’s love lives.

1/3 Of What You're Saying, Theo Dimas/Mabel Mora

She dreams of puzzle pieces again, that first night at Theo’s. (Mabel and Theo as roommates, figuring it out.)

An Ingenue Looks at Seventy, Loretta Durkin/Oliver Putnam

Maybe this time, Loretta will get everything she ever dreamed of. Or at least a bigger piece of it.

ignition, Theo Dimas/Mabel Mora

“So, do I need to be worried about you getting with a murderer too, or can I reserve that particular worry for Charles and Charles alone?” Or, everyone seems to know before they do.

Dark Days Coming, Ethan Chandler/Vanessa Ives + Ethan Chandler & Vanessa Ives + Vanessa Ives/Hecate Poole + Ethan Chandler/Hecate Poole

Hecate makes a plan.

Somebody to Watch Over Me, Wendy Darling/James Hook

The Hook she had made up would never smile at a girl as if she were the most interesting person in the world and then tell her that of course, he would patiently await her decision.

Growing Pains, Wendy Darling/James Hook

Wendy knew Hook wasn't propositioning her to join his crew out of the non-existent goodness of his heart. Enchanting his eyes might be, but the coldness in them seeped right into her bones.

The Sixth Statue, Gen, Piranesi | Matthew Rose Sorensen + The House

Matthew Rose Sorensen explores the House.

The Reality of Shadows, Gen, Sixteen | Sarah Raphael

"And when he remembered his old habitation, and the wisdom of the den and his fellow-prisoners, do you not suppose that he would felicitate himself on the change, and pity them? Certainly, he would. … Yes, he said, I think that he would rather suffer anything than entertain these false notions and live in this miserable manner." - Plato, The Republic

The Waters below the Nineteenth Eastern Hall, The House + Piranesi | Matthew Rose Sorensen

Between the Eleventh and Fifteenth days of the Sixth Month in the Year the Albatross Came to the South-western Halls, there are days for which nothing was recorded. To fit into that space: a reflection on certain surprising Elements of the House.

lay my heart down, Bodhi/Johnny Utah

“Hey,” Bodhi says, soaked right down to the bone. “Room for an old friend?” Johnny takes a step back like he’s seen a ghost. “What the fuck?”

Ways to Disappear, Charlie Cale/Original Female Character

Charlie finds a place to stay awhile.

#yuletide #yuletide 2023 #north and south #the oc #ocean's 8 #ocean's eleven #only murders in the building #penny dreadful #peter pan #piranesi #point break #poker face

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rumbelleshowdown · 1 year

Text

Author: Rose Daughter

Prompts: Every day. Monster, fear, cold sweat. Celebrity.

Group: B

Tomorrow

“You’re late, dearie.”

Belle jolts, whirling around, her feet skidding on the shelf of wet rock. She manages to keep her balance, wobbling on the edge of the crystalline pool. Two dark eyes bob above the water, sharp and observant, unsympathetic to her flailing.

“I’ve told you not to sneak up on me like that,” she huffs.

The creature lifts further out of the water, looking menacing with his mane of matted curls hanging in his face. Then, he shakes his head like a wet dog and grins.

“Your lack of spa-cial aware-ness has naught to do with me.”

The words are stodgy in his mouth, so he pronounces them slowly. These were acquired from the book she read aloud to him yesterday. Rumple’s mind was a funny wee lagoon; when she cast new words into it, they usually resurfaced as ammunition to tease her.

He slithers to the pool’s edge, moving through the water like an eel. He props his elbows up on the rocks.

“You’re late,” he says again.

“How can you even tell?”

His crocodilian eyes shift to a silver pocket watch that dangles from a knobbly finger of overhanging rock. It looks suspiciously like the one that used to hang from a fob on Jefferson’s waistcoat.

Belle’s lips press into a thin line. “Yes, well, it’s becoming quite tricky to leave my house without being badgered about another ‘recovery mission’. I think I might need to start charging for my services. You’re becoming too…popular in the village.”

Notorious is a more appropriate term, but she knows he would enjoy that label far too much.

It is not uncommon to see Finfolk off the coast of the Orkney Islands. It is, however, unheard of to catch more than a glimpse of talon and tail as they steal a fish off the end of your line. They don’t linger near the shore. And they certainly don’t take up residence in a grotto at the base of the headland, transforming the limestone ledges into a personal museum of pilfered trinkets.

“I hear you’ve been tipping rowboats again,” she says.

“Shouldn’t have rowed so close to the cave,” he trills, “Def-ini-tely shouldn’t have been out on the water if you don’t know how to swim.”

Rumple’s behavior has elevated him from overgrown sardine to local celebrity; a spectacle at the best of times and a menace at the worst. And when Belle’s routine visits to the grotto became public knowledge, the villagers thrust a title upon her as well. Hostage negotiator.

She scans the cave, searching for possible new additions to his hoard. She feels like she’s playing one of those ‘spot the difference’ games they print on children’s menus. Ah, there. Coiled around a stalagmite is a heart-shaped locket, its ruby pendant winking in the reflection of the pool.

“You know, Miss Lucas used to have a necklace just like that. She took it off to swim one afternoon and, by the time she’d paddled back to the docks, it had vanished.”

“Extra-ordin-ary coincidence.” His expression might have looked innocent on a small boy or a puppy, but it only succeeds in making him look all the more devilish.

Belle shakes her head and bends down to unravel the locket. She pockets it, ignoring his cry of protest.

“And I’m going to need the tackle box you nicked from Marco’s boat.”

He scowls up at her. She can just imagine his tail flicking with irritation. He must have known she’d come asking for that particular prize, as he’d stashed it beneath the water rather than displaying it above.

“What if I trade you for it?” she offers.

His gaze darts to the basket cradled in the crook of her arm. His furrowed brow gives a faint twitch, his resolve instantly weakening. Hook. Line. Sinker.

With a profane grumble, he ducks back under the water. His vocabulary has been increasing in color ever since he started spying on the sailors at the docks.

Belle watches him disappear into the deep as she sits down at the pool’s edge and begins unlacing her boots. She has learned the hard way that heels have rubbish traction.

Some say that jewelry and fishing gear aren’t all that the Fin like to steal. The villagers tell tales of those that have been ferried away to a kingdom beneath the waves. The legends serve as requiems for the men and women who were dragged to the depths and eternally imprisoned in unlawful marriages to the Fins that snatched them. Belle thinks that’s nonsense. The Finfolk detest humans and – typically – want as little to do with them as possible. It would be like kidnapping a cockroach from the gutter to keep as a pet.

Still, the superstition persists. Even when begging her to rescue his tackle box from the sea beast’s lair, Marco had cautioned, “Be careful, girl. He’ll steal you too, if he gets the chance.”

Belle dips her toes into the cool water. Marco’s words echo in her mind as she feels a clawed hand latch onto her ankle. Her scream bounces off the cave walls. Rumple’s head breaches the water’s surface again, eyes glinting with wicked glee.

“…for…for god’s sake, Rumple,” she gasps, pressing her hand over her chest, trying to work her heart out of her throat.

He laughs, baring two rows of razor-sharp teeth. She’s reminded of what a terror he must be to unsuspecting fishermen.

His grin wanes when it comes time to surrender his treasure. Rumple reluctantly hands over the tackle box, looking so forlorn that she almost regrets taking it from him. She knows how enamored he is with the little lures and bobbers.

He plants both hands on the rock and, lean muscles straining, heaves himself up onto the rim beside her. His tail hits the stone with a wet slap.

No artist has ever truly rendered the ethereal beauty of a Fin. They refuse to be pinned to a canvas and captured in a frame. There is no shade of paint that can reproduce the exact green-gold color of their tails, nor their iridescent quality in the sunlight. Belle’s eyes follow the scales up his body to where they become a smattering over his belly, just about where most human men have a trail of fine hair.

Aware of where her eyes are fixed, Rumple reaches for the basket with both hands like an impatient child. Her reflexes are a tad quicker and she slides it out of reach.

“No. Don’t grab. It’s not polite.”

He gives her a rude gesture – something else he undoubtedly picked up from the sailors. The effect is somewhat less potent with his webbed fingers.

After the thermos of hot chocolate had gone down so well last week, Belle suspects his serrated teeth might be quite sweet. She produces a small bundle from the basket, unwrapping the gingham handkerchief to reveal a crumbly stack of homemade shortbread. Rumple peers at it, captivated as the scent of honey and coriander hits his nose.

“Dry your hands first or it’ll go all mushy.”

Rumple does dry his hands; not on the handkerchief, but on her jumper, his talons snagging the woolen yellow fibers on her sleeve. He swipes a wedge before she can delay him any longer.

He takes a small, suspicious bite. She can tell the exact moment that the butter-rich biscuit dissolves on his tongue. His eyes go wide and he looks to her with such childlike delight, it makes her heart beat wildly against her rib cage.

“There are otters up the coastline. They have pups,” he says suddenly, as though trying to bolster his half of the trade. “I’ll take you to see them.”

“I’m not dressed for swimming.”

He rolls his eyes. That isn’t something he learned from the sailors. That is something he adopted from her.

“You can’t get these clothes wet, but you can put on different clothes speci-fic-ally to get wet?”

He wrinkles his nose indignantly. His derisive ‘urgh, humans’ is unspoken, but is heard all the same.

“I’ll wear something suitable tomorrow. You can bring me then.”

Tomorrow. He loves that word more than anything.

His sullen expression melts away. He leans in expectantly. Now, this is special. This is something he taught her. Belle meets him halfway, resting her forehead against his. His crooked nose presses into her cheek, their faces slotting together like two puzzle pieces. They stare at one another for a long, quiet moment. His lips twist into a lopsided smile and he pulls back.

That means, ‘I’m happy’. It means, ‘thank you’.

It means, ‘love you’.

Rumple’s tail thumps the rock again, splashing water over her legs, the droplets clinging to her calves like a sheen of cold sweat. She watches him examine a second piece of shortbread like it’s made of solid gold.

‘Yes, tomorrow’, Belle thinks, smiling down at where his fin grazes her ankles.

‘Perhaps he’ll steal me tomorrow.’

#rumbelle showdown #round one #rumbelle fic #rose daughter

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instantchaossweets · 2 years

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🌸 Things of AOT you should know about by now 🌸

In an interview, Hajime Isayama stated that Hange Zoe does not have an official gender but leaves it to the reader's imagination.

According to a Japanese survey, more than half of the fans forgot that Armin also had a tragic past and that he is an orphan.

Levi was accidentally created when Isayama was scribbling ideas.

Reiner Braun's name is of Old Norse origin and means "the conciliatory warrior."

Historia Reiss is the only one of his family to be recognized by the people as the true royalty of the walls.

Aspects of Levi's design and his personality are based on Rorschach from Watchmen.

Isayama revealed that of all the veterans of the Recon Corps, Moblit is the one who consumes the most alcohol due to his "unfortunate" position (Hage's right hand).

In the anime, Eren's titanic form possesses a third eyelid common to predatory species. This can be seen when Eren blinks several times in episode 8. It is unknown if the titan possesses this feature in the manga.

The city layout in Shingeki no Kyojin is based on Nördlingen, Germany.

It is said that Isayama named Mikasa after an ocean-going ironclad ship of the Imperial Japanese Naval Force because of his belief that a series with female characters named after famous warships would be successful.

Levi has the title of “leader of the soldiers” (heishichō: usually translated as “Captain”) in the Recon Corps. However, his friends and subordinates often call him by a shorter title “lance corpo” (heichō). This has led to the belief that he is actually a lower-ranking soldier than he actually possesses.

The armored titan is based on Brock Lesnar, an American professional wrestler and former mixed martial arts fighter.

Annie uses Motai, the most brutal fighting style in the world.

Armin's birthday, November 3, is celebrated in Japan as Culture Day, a holiday that promotes study, culture, and fine arts.

The scene where Eren carries the rock to close the hole in Wall Rose is reminiscent of the Greek titan Atlas, who carries the celestial sphere on his shoulders.

Ymir spent 60 years as an original titan and did not age a day until she regained her human form. This suggests that she is physically and mentally 17 years old, but her chronological age is between 70-80 years old.

At 6'5" (196 cm), Mike was the tallest human character of all.

Marco's birthday is June 16, ironically it's the middle of the year and when he died only half of his body appeared.

The flare gun, or smoke gun in Shingeki no Kyojin, are like catapults with needles. Sparklers are paint stored in a can under high pressure. When the trigger is pulled, a needle hits the can, causing the pressure to be released and the shot to be sprayed, leaving paint in its path.

Eren's name comes from Turkish culture. Its exact meaning is “one who progresses and attains divine maturity and sacred wisdom”.

#snk #snk levi #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #erwin smith #eren #mikasa #annie #armin #aot #ymir fritz #armin arlert #mikasa ackerman #eren jeager

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whxre4hange · 2 years

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aot characters + bubble tea headcanons :D

eren

i can’t really imagine him liking it

he probably stole a few sips from mikasa

secondhand kisses from straws trope :D

“why are there soggy little balls floating in my drink????”

LMAOOOOO IM NOT GONNA MAKE THAT INTO A DIRTY JOKE I SWEAR

mikasa

brown sugar latte + pearls

also caramel milk tea with pearls

goes for the classic flavours that everyone likes

is vvv safe with her orders, doesn’t choose anything outlandish :D

shares with eren :D

armin

probably chooses drinks that only older asian parents get

always 25% sugar and 25% ice

healthy icon >:D

i would hazard a guess at taro milk tea with pearls as his favourite flavour :D

doesnt drink it often, its probably like a treat type thing

jean

this lanky manchild chooses the most childlish flavours

mango lemon smoothie with popping pearls please!

the 5 year old kid with the exact same order: O-O

connie

CONNIE IS IN A COMPETITION WITH JEAN: WHO CAN CHOOSE THE MOST CHILDLISH FLAVOUR? FIND OUT IN ATTACK ON BOBA!

sparkling strawberry yakult smoothie with 5 helpings of grape popping balls

shit that sounds really good tho-

marco

the third competitor in the immature boba tea flavour context

and somehow he wins

you know those tiktoks where people only order toppings and nothing else?

thats him

but he gets those toppings

orders a maccas ice cream (if the machine isnt broken)

and he pours the ice cream into the toppings

….and then adds macdonalds nuggets

NOM NOM CRUNCH CRUNCH BIIITCH

no one can tell if he genuinely likes it or if hes just tryna out-gross the bois

sasha

bro boba is pricy af

sasha ain’t paying for it

(she steals it off connie and jean and marco)

a boba menace !!!!

^ that was my nickname in high school

kidding

or am i?

has a whole ass notes page in her phone rating all of the different flavours

ranks them all in the most chaotic way possible

in the end, she’d much prefer a proper meal to boba

but she won’t say no to boba everrr

levi

sike u thought

u think this man would ever TOUCH something that, in his words, were a ‘blasphemy’ to the art of tea?

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA

but does he steal hanji’s just for a teensy little taste?

yeah

poor levi…

hanji

speaking of which

hanji has made it her personal mission to taste every single flavour of boba

with every single topping combination there is in mankind

boba is a lifestyle, not a drink - hanji 2021

her two favourites are lychee black tea with sakura (cherry blossom) jelly + plum green tea with rainbow jelly and black pearls

she always asks for extra sugar on top of the maximum sugar level

cue sugar-buzzed hanji :D

erwin

i am so sorry in advance for this

at first i was gonna say smth like ‘oolong jasmine tea with black pearls’

something classic yknow

but i gave it further thought and just

he’s definitely choosing the most outlandish, childlish flavours thatll make any sane person puke

he’s the black horse in the ‘most immature boba flavour’ competition

may i please present erwin’s ‘trademark’: oreo yakult smoothie crush with orange flavoured popping balls?

im gagging as i write it but honestly it sounds like one of my period cravings so…yeah

edit: added historia + ymir

@p4latinus for reminding me and for coming up with historia’s signature drink!! :)

historia

okay well she definitely has a sweet tooth

i can see her really enjoying the brown sugar/caramel milk teas

the really rich, sugary flavours that only the bravest can stand *dramatic music plays*

her signature drink (inspired by @p4latinus !!) is brown sugar creme brulee, with extra sugar :D

she lowkey has the hugest sugar high after it

bouncing around the room while ymir runs after her

ymir

absolutely hates bubble tea

get that shit away from her

roses are read, violets are blue, if you give her boba, you’ll end up in it too*

*unless you’re historia

historia came up to ymir once with her signature brown sugar creme brulee with big puppy dog eyes

“CMON YMIR JUST A SIPPPPP”

[insert ray william johnson singing “JUST THE TIPPP”]

anyways

where was i?

ymir growls and grumbles for a few hours

(the drink be gettin stale)

but finally caves cause she is #weak

and also a raging lesbian for historia

ANYWAYS I DIGRESS

she takes the sip and immediately wants to die

why is there so much fucking SUGAR

was this made by a fricking toddler or smth?

but when she looks at historia’s excited face she forces herself to finish the drink and smile

“Yeah, it’s great...! :D”

and historia is so happy that ymir likes it that now she always orders ymir a drink to match with hers

so now ymir is stuck drinking this sugary ass drink at LEAST twice a week

is she gonna say anything bad tho?

#ymir and historia forever

>>hope u enjoyed! comment who u want to see in part 2. as always, likes, reblogs and comments are encouraged and appreciated 💌

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percervall · 1 year

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👉🏼👈🏼 currently having so many professor-kink thoughts at the moment… so I immediately ran here to ask if you would please make a list of men who trigger your professor kink? 💕

I spent my entire Saturday coming up with this list. There's no rhyme or reason, no thoughts just vibes

a read more because this will contain pictures

Mats Hummels, but specifically him in turtlenecks

I can just imagine him speaking so passionately about the impact of [insert German author of the 19th/20th century] on the way we view [insert topic here]

(throwing in a bonus one because it fucked me up in the best way)

Antoine Griezmann, that one photoshoot ruined me

but also this Anto

He'd teach French poetry and you'd know absolutely nothing except for how blue those eyes are and a handful of fantasies involving his finger tattoos

Thiago Alcantara, I am sorry but have you seen this man??? They literally call him the professor like what did you expect to happen??

he'd for sure teach Spanish history with a focus on the influence of colonisation on Spanish architecture

Jordan Henderson. I will not be taking questions at this moment.

Definitely something sport medicine related

Xabi Alonso kinda fits this bill?

he'd teach about Basque poets and you'd hang on his every word

Marco Rose definitely fits this bill

what is it about men in turtlenecks??? For sure a philosophy or Greek classics professor

I can’t believe I’m exposing myself like this but Jamie Carragher. Again, I will not be taking questions at this moment.

(it's the cardigan under the blazer) he'd teach marketing strategies or something along those lines

Moving on to f1

Carlos Sainz jr, that photo of him looking so focused at whatever he’s doing to his car has me thinking thoughts™️

He'd be into the Renaissance literary movement and take the whole class on excursions and wane on poetically about those marble sculptures that look so lifelike

Toto Wolff, like in all honesty I could listen to that man talk all day. It’s so effortless?? And he is so smart?? But doesn’t come across as arrogant while he knows he’s one of the smartest men in the room??

I can imagine him teaching like idk economics or something, for sure business orientated. But I can also see him teaching a Literature class of some sorts

Sebastian Vettel, although this is purely as an admiration for his knowledge. He does nothing for me sexually

he would 100% teach environmental studies and show you his bees

#ask #kostasstsimikass #ivy this fucked me up in the best way possible #what a journey this was #mats hummels #antoine griezmann #thiago alcantara #jordan henderson #xabi alonso #marco rose #carlos sainz jr #toto wolff #mar’s emporium of lists

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