#Scratch the latter. No hubby's

[lokischocolatefountain]

omg say no to me and salvation have me gagging… pretty please write more, i need hubby javi 🥵 ur amazing

I love that you liked hubby Javi! I like him a lot too. So, a little warning: I wrote this out sleep deprived and in a hurry so it’s going to be full of mistakes. 🙈 but I hope you like it. Wrote a little birthday themed thing for Javier Peña and his wife from this married Javi universe because it’s Pedrito’s birthday. Happy birthday to him and tbh fuck him (respectfully) for making me thirst over a fucking cop (on top of a merge mansion ad character I hate him).

Switch It Up

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 3.8k words

Summary: Javier Peña and his wife switch roles for his birthday

Javier Peña was a grown man. He was a federal agent working for the DEA in Columbia, he saw several horrors a day and had a goddamn gun tucked in the back of his jeans. He was a grown man with a whole wife to show for his age and maturity.

He should not be so bummed about a lonely birthday.

It was her fault really. Before her, he didn’t really do birthdays. His friends usually got him presents— the best whiskey they could afford and a trip to the strip club and paid for prostitutes. It was more for their sake than his own (though he couldn’t deny that he had fun). When it got serious with his now wife, he opted to forego the stripclub and the prostitutes because he had decided that it was no longer fun to sabotage the one good thing in his life. He’d exchanged the bachelor life fun for a perfect day off with her.

Every year brought something different; she was innovative that way. The first year, she woke him up at midnight with her lips around his dick and brought him the cake she baked from scratch. She blew him and he blew the candles. He hadn’t cut a cake in years. The last time was when his Ma was still alive. They ate the cake together, saved some for Steve and Connie and he ate her to thank her for being the perfect girlfriend.

Last year, she took him for an all expense paid trip to Medellín for a whole week. It was the most time he’d gotten away from work and the only time he spent in Medellín without chasing after pieces of shit. She had arranged for some mountain climbing shit because of his love for physical exertion. He chose instead to love her all week long for physical exertion. She complained about having brought her climbing gear for no reason, but that didn’t last long. It was a little hard to complain when you had a dick in your mouth.

He’d been thoroughly spoiled as a husband.

This year, he was all alone with a whiskey bottle from Steve and Connie, sloppy cheek kisses from little Olivia and a whole cake from his wife. He’d kept a sizable slice for himself and placed the rest in the break room for everyone to enjoy. Cake wasn’t as delicious with nobody to share it with.

Javi didn’t mean to be ungrateful. He knew she would’ve stayed behind if she could have. But her parents really needed her to help with the sale of her childhood home and he wasn’t going to act like a kid and ask her to stay because it was his birthday. It would’ve been silly.

“Jav! They found the guys. Carillo needs you in this address right fucking now,” said Steve, barelling into their office with a piece of paper in hand.

“Fucking finally,” he muttered, taking the paper with a scribbled address. He’d sat idly at work all day tackling their paperwork backlog while Steve was out there doing some real work.

The location was…strange. It was oddly quiet and there was no Carillo, no CNP guys. He had a choice to make— he could wait right there and keep an eye on the building and go in when the rest of the guys arrived. Or he could go in by himself. The second was extremely unwise. He would get told off by everyone from Noonan to his wife. If he didn’t get killed first.

Minutes passed by and he chose the latter option. He could handle Noonan. She didn’t approve of his actions, but she always understood. Gun tucked in the back of his jeans, he crept around the building. Once he’d found an open window, he slipped in, praying to the Gods he no longer believed in to keep him safe for another day.

Darkness suffocated his sight as he walked further into the building. The noise from outside the building grew dimmer and dimmer, eventually fading into the background. He crept like a cat, his shoes making nothing but the slightest whispers against the floor of the building. It had looked like a commercial building from the outside and if he remembered right, this place had once been a stripclub. Not one of the good ones for sure. It had to have shut down for a reason.

The place was littered with cardboard boxes, the contents of which he would explore had he not a mission in mind. Three of the most elusive hit men on Escobar’s payroll were hiding out somewhere in the building. The location was a bit too unusual for the men who had a record of gravitating towards luxury, but it wasn’t too out of place for them to have chosen a former strip club.

He spun in place when he heard a clatter behind him, his gun pointed in the direction of the sound and his heart beginning to beat faster. He took a few steps towards the source of the sound, wandering further into the building.

Click, click, click

High heels against wood? No, can’t be…

Nevertheless, he followed the sound.

Ahem

What the fuck…

Lights went up suddenly, illuminating the dark hall. The room had been swept clean with nothing but a chair in front of the stage. Under the bright lights above the stage glimmering a beautiful silver was a pole.

A voice cleared its throat again. When it finally spoke, it had a sultry tone to it.

“Agente Peña…”

No… It can’t be.

Click, click, click, click, click….

He saw the impractically high high heels first. Click, click, click against floors that were probably designed to amplify these sounds. The red of the shoes stopped to give way to white socks stretched tight around legs he would kill to throw over his shoulders. The socks mercifully, or mercilessly, stopped under bruised knees to expose full thighs he wanted to sink his nails into.

“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, earning the laughter of the woman on the stage.

“Your friends told me it was your birthday, Agente…”

“It is,” he said, tucking his gun away. Hands on his waist, he took slow steps towards her. He needed to see her up close, confirm that his mind wasn’t conjuring up the most salacious thoughts after having had to go without a good fuck for an entire week.

“Your friends seem annoyed, Agente… They say they miss the fun single Javi who they could take to strip clubs. Now, I’ve never met this fun Javi before, but god if you look like this when you’re not fun,” she said, using her index finger to point at him, “you must look hot as fuck when you’re fun.”

“This your way of telling me I’m usually boring, sweetheart?” He asked, taking a seat on the chair she’d set out for him in front of the stage. He made sure to spread his legs and lean back comfortably in his seat before he folded his arms behind his head.

She smiled her sweet shy smile that he was sure was responsible for landing him in this exact moment in his life. She bit down on her brightly painted lips and wrapped his hand around the pole before swinging around. Her hair was out of the tight pony she put it up in for work. As she twirled around the pole, her hair swung free, caressing the wind before resting on her shoulder and cascading down the crimson shirt she’d stolen from his cupboard.

“You’re going to do as I say if you want a good night, Agente…”

“Ah… That’s how it is?” He taunted, letting condescension slip into his voice. “Alright. As you command, sweet thing.”

“Good boy,” she purred, the sound going straight to his cock. Calm the fuck down, Peña. She hasn’t even begun yet.

“Hands behind your back,” she ordered, looking down at him imposingly from where she stood.

“Sorry, what?” He asked, blinking rapidly and tilting his head to take a good look at her. Habituated to her shy smiles and pleas to be taken and fucked throughout their time together, it wasn’t an understatement to say that he was shaken by her sudden assumption of the commanding role.

Her fingers glided up and down the pole and for the first time he noticed that her nails were done up all pretty with the brightest red nail polish there was. Fuck, she’d gone all out. “You fuckin’ heard me, Peña,” she snapped and took a few steps forward before dropping to her ass, gently like a caress against the surface. He didn’t even know she could move like that. She hopped off the stage and his heart caught in his throat as she got closer to him and he caught a whiff of her perfume in the air. She stopped when she was over him, her legs spread out on either side of him. Oh how he’d missed the scent enveloping him as he buried himself in her and threw her into a world of ecstasy. The soft moan that escaped his lips surprised even him.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he breathed out, tracing a hand up her thigh only to be swatted away rudely. She grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks and digging her nails into his skin just enough to give him a taste of how she’d be piercing the skin on his back as he fucked her later that night. He’d make her keep those shoes on for sure.

“Jesus!” She swore, the scorching heat of her gaze beginning to burn him. “No manners. Is this how you treat dancers, Agent? Fuckin American, touching everything, acting entitled to every goddamn thing, not following a single rule… It’s about time someone taught you a lesson.”

“Well darling, if there’s one thing I’m entitled to, it’s you,” he teased, hoping to rile her up and make her look all adorable and hot with rage. The next thing he knew was a stinging pain on his cheek.

“Once more.”

She raised an eyebrow at him as she caressed the cheek she slapped. He swallowed, looked up at her and tried again, “Please, Ma’am. Once more.”

“Good boy,” she purred, her lips curling up in a smirk of satisfaction. Was this what she saw in him when she laid under him and took all that he had to give her for the night? Seeing her so confident in herself, feeling the sting of her authority on his cheek and sitting underneath her, he felt like he finally understood why liked this so much.

He had a feeling that as the night matured, he would only get a better understanding.

“Hands behind your back.”

Eyes still set on her, he moved his hands behind his back. Just like she’d ordered. She took a step back and he immediately missed her closeness, missed how she crowded over him and put him down in his place with just a stare. She slipped a hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out the leather pouch with the handcuffs. Once she retrieved what she’d wanted, she tossed the pouch over her shoulder. She circled him, their eyes still joined in the heated gaze of expectations. He leaned back on his chair, praying to the lord that he didn’t look absurd doing that. The last thing he wanted to do was make her laugh.

The cold metal of his cuffs nipped at his wrists and he attempted to pull his wrists in opposite directions, enjoying his own failure at achieving the freedoms he only half-heartedly sought. She placed her hands on his shoulders from her place behind him and descended lazily down to his eye-level.

“Feliz cumpleaños, mi amor. Disfruta del espectáculo,” she whispered before giving him a peck on the cheek. He attempted futilely to grab her so that he could kiss her properly, so that he could devour her lips and thank her for showing up for him.

There was music. It didn’t appear magically. She pressed a button on the cassette player he recognized from home before she walked up the stairs to the stage. Everything seemed torturously slow. Even the way she walked away from him looked to be designed as slow poison for him.

She descended gracefully to the floor and sat herself on her side, her back curved as she leaned back, her high-heel clad legs together with her left leg covering her right. She pushed her ass and tits out. She swept her leg out in a circle around herself, lifting it in the air as her right leg followed suit to make a semi circle. He caught a sparkle of something under his shirt that she wore as she exposed herself to him for a few seconds before she bent her knees and brought her legs back to where they started.

Javi drew in a sharp breath as she quickly got to her knees and twirled around again. This time, she let her right knee support her as she let the left kiss the smooth floors with the platforms of her shoes, back and forth, back and forth as his cock twitched in his pants. He would never forgive himself if he ended up jizzing in his pants seconds into her dance that she’d clearly put a lot of effort into.

Next thing he knew, she was upside down— fuckin’ hell— and spreading her legs, giving him a view of the little skirt and thongs she wore underneath as his shirt gave way to gravity and revealed her for him. She snapped her legs shut, as though punishing him for staring before she slid her legs over the floor and laid herself out flat, her delicious behind bouncing from her momentum. Spreading her knees apart, she rose from her position and let her hair flip around before she got up— how the fuck did she get up from that position??

Fuck!

He realized he’d said that out loud when she looked behind her shoulder and laughed before holding the pole, her fingers wrapping around it one by one. She stroked the goddamn thing up and down like she would his cock and fuck he’d be proud if he wasn’t so mad about being locked up with nothing to do but watch, to be a passive participant in her erotic torture of him.

She twirled and twirled a little more around the pole in many different ways. She moved effortlessly, dancing around the thing like it was no big deal. But he knew the strength it took to swing around a pole like that and look sexy as hell while at it. He knew how strong she was from the way she bent one leg around the pole and spun as she let the other draw a circle around her.

His thoughts, as scarce as they were with the sight in front of him, went off to a dreamland where he took advantage of all the flexibility she was displaying to bend her in every which way he wanted, to take her in all the ways he imagined. Sexier was the thought of her practicing this routine. Just for his sake. Just to do something special for him.

When she stepped away from the pole for a few seconds, Javi thought that was it. He was a fool. She stopped at the edge of the stage and looked down at him before she snapped the button of the shirt off, exposing just a bit of her cleavage. Eyes trained on his to derive sick joy from his torment, she snapped the buttons open one by one.

She was a sight.

Back to the pole, she held it like it was a part of her, letting the metal assist her as she closed her eyes and put herself on artistic display for him. He was one lucky man. He’d always known, but it bore repeating. He was lucky as fuck. She shed the shirt and he moaned as the action gave him more of her to see. He would never tire of seeing her body no matter how many times she took her clothes off for him be it to seduce him or simply take a shower.

Behind him, he struggled against his handcuffs, the metal digging into his skin and leaving marks for him to cover up the next morning.

He gasped as she climbed the thing like it was no big deal and wrapped herself around it. His heart jumped right out as her back arched backwards and he thought for a moment that she would fall. But she didn’t. Her legs were holding her in place around the pole. She brought herself back down, landing her shoes on the ground and pinning him with her gaze. She then took the strings wrapped around her waist and tugged, letting the barely-there skirt unfurl from around her.

His mouth was wide open in awe when she threw the sparkly black fabric at him. It covered his eyes for a fraction of a second as it hit him in the face before dropping down to his lap. He growled her name and cursed as his hips rose up from the chair in a desperate search for contact. Any contact. God, he’d even fuck his fist if she’d let him. But she ignored his plight, letting her starving husband continue starving as she moved torturously both on the pole and the floor in front of it.

When her bra came off—tossed in his direction again— he whimpered like a pathetic creature that was kicked by something much bigger and more powerful than he was. He was helpless and horny as fuck and enjoying it.

Perhaps because she’d decided to have mercy on him or just because her dance had ended, she hopped off the stage and stalked towards him like she was a hungry beast and he her latest game that she could wait to tear into.

“Please, Ma’am,” the honorific slipped out without him meaning to. “I need…please,” he begged, his voice shaky as he struggled to articulate what it was that he needed. He let out little mewls of desperation as he struggled to form words that weren’t ‘please or Ma’am’.

She bit down on her lip and tilted her head as she considered him. “Aww baby, it’s alright.”

“P-please,” he muttered, his worldly coming out airy.

She palmed him through his jeans and stroked him, her eyes twinkling as she regarded him in his struggle. His breaths grew fast with just the first touch. He pleaded repeatedly, calling her every sweet name in the dictionary- in two dictionaries of two languages, but she didn’t seem to want to free him. She was enjoying his helplessness too much.

She laughed and bent at the waist to look him eye-to-eye, “I got you so hard just dancing for you huh, Javier?”

He was no longer in control of any part of his body. It was all hers from the hairs on his head to the tips of his toes. They all danced to her beat, worshiped at her altar, awaited her command with bated breath and followed her to his own destruction. His lips, now hers, begged “Y-yes Ma’am. I w-want— please! Want to touch you. Tan bonita... Quiero que tú… Por favor, patróna—”

“You want to touch me?” She asked, raising a cruel eyebrow at him. “Really? What makes you think you deserve that, baby? What have you done to deserve me?”

“I’ll do anything. Anyth— any— fuck!” He whimpered as the world disappeared around him, leaving only a hazy vision of her leaning in front of him, her hand around him. He felt his underwear get wet from his embarrassingly quick release as he muttered a curse in regret.

She tipped his head back and pressed her lips to his, their tongues dancing around each other and their lips taking in as much as they could of the other. The few days of separation had really gotten to him and he was pleased to know that he wasn’t alone with the way she pushed for more from their kiss.

“‘M so sorry, baby. That was…I lasted longer as a teenager, believe me,” he explained himself, wanting to hide himself away yet willing to show her all of him. All his embarrassment and sexual failures and his genuine feeling of regret over the way he ended the night.

She laughed softly, not in mockery but with her love. He could always feel her love.

“It’s okay, mi amor. Nothing to apologize for. You’ve made me cum with less, I swear,” she said, draping herself across his lap and cradling his face in her hand. She kissed him on the cheek and then the other and then his forehead. “Happy birthday, Javi.”

He smiled, no grinned, at her as he felt his heart fill up with gratitude for her. “I can’t believe you came back from stateside just for this.”

“About that…” she trailed, her index finger reaching out and playing with his mustache. “I never left.”

“What!?”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling sheepishly.

“You’ve been gone for three days!”

“I was at my friend’s.”

“Your parents called and said you reached home safely!” He exclaimed. How deep was this plot!? Who were all in on it? And what kind of a fool was he to not notice a thing. He should’ve asked her parents to give her the phone! He should’ve checked and caught them in the lie.

“I asked them—”

“You asked them to lie for you to give me a sex present for my birthday?”

“Nooo! Well, not like that! I didn’t call them and ask them to lie to you because I wanted to give you a fucking pole dance- strip show thing for your birthday. I just made something up. My god, Javi!” She huffed, shoving at his chest lightly.

“Wait! And Steve. FUCKIN STEVE! What did you tell HIM?”

“Don’t worry, your dignity is safe with me. Didn’t tell him I was gonna restrain you and make you call me Ma’am and oh, what else was it? Patróna?” She teased, smiling as she played with his hair.

“Si, Patróna,” he retorted right back, making her smile transform into a gasp and her eyes turn wide.

“Shut up,” she mumbled as she got off his lap and reached behind him. She uncuffed him and he was immediately upon her. She yelped as he pulled her into his lap, giggling as he pressed kisses all over her face.

“Javi, stooop!” She whined but leaned in closer and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Gonna take you back home, baby. Need to do this right,” he mumbled into her hair.

“Oh? Do it right? You gonna hold me down and fuck me hard, Agente Peña?” She asked as he took his leather jacket off of himself. Finding her clothes would take too much time and he was not willing to spend his previous time with her after being deceived into separation.

“Pfft, no! You, my darling wife, are going to hold me down and take what you want,” he declared, excited to lean back and let her do the work for that night. And perhaps other nights when he needed her to take over and take guide him though it. It wasn’t something he thought he would like, but with her, every day was a surprise and he discovered new things about himself even after so many years alive.

Wrapped up in his jacket, she let him carry her to his jeep and he drove her home, a happy and grateful man.

.

.

.

Series Masterlist

Read more of my Javier Peña fics here

#javier peña #javier pena fic #javier peña fluff #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javier peña x reader #javier peña x ofc #javier peña smut #javier pena smut #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena fluff #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #married javier peña #husband!javier peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #warning: bad spanish

[peppermint-squirrel]

cyrae hcs caused by tt (2003) brainrot

they spend a lot of time in the garage. raven'll help cyborg tinker with the t-car, or if they each want to do their own thing, she'll sit in the passenger seat, door open, tea in one hand and book in the other, while he spruces the car up. the latter is very nice for when they want to be alone, but Together

their dates are p low maintenance, no stress, which is what they both like. they go on p lengthy cruises in the t-car — on more than one occasion they park on the coast at night where they can see Titans Tower and listen to the ocean + stargaze. cyborg insists they sit on the ground rather than the hood of the car though, can't risk any scratches, so he usually brings a blanket or two

they also go on "errand dates." they go grocery shopping (which given the sheer Size and Variety of the List that all of the Titans contribute to, is basically an all-day affair) or pick up parts or anything of the like. they usually swing by raven's favorite cafe and cyborg's favorite hobby shop (for video games usually but he does get into racing rc cars w bb and i am a firm believer in the titans sitting down to play at least one session of jump city d&d so that, too) on the way home

they both like history (cyborg recently having adopted a vested interest) — cue trips to antique malls, thrift stores, museums. raven takes her time, listens to the audio tours, and can get a vague sense of the history behind donated items at the shops/malls — cyborg pendulums between reading all of the plaques/tags, absorbing all of the info, and cracking sorta-jokes that everything in the place is absolutely and totally 1000% haunted and/or has been possessed in the past . . . or is in the present

book festivals are a thing!! raven likes them. she's a big believer in supporting Local. she also likes picking up every and any book she can get her hands on, reading the book jacket blurbs, then listening to the author talk. she's not much of a talker or a prompter herself, but she is an Avid Listener, and she likes hearing stories from all walks of life. but book festivals also can be p packed, and cyborg's p spot-on about sensing when raven's getting overstimulated and/or cranky and/or tired (not that she goes to particular pains to hide it, granted) so he'll usher her back to the t-car and load up her totes full of books in the trunk and oops when they get in he pulls out a bag of kettle corn the size of his gd torso out of NOWHERE and raven just STARES at him bcuz where tf did that come from and he just grins at her and offers her a handful and she finally cracks a Small Smile, takes a few kernels, and relaxes as they drive home (making her smile is his version of magic and one of his favorite things to do)

raven Just Doesn't call him cy. but she does and she will call him vic. it's the closest thing to a pet name she has for him. for his part, he tends to stick to rae (ntt vic def calls her witch and some variation of bird/birdie)

not to mix-n-match media but . . . "she's a magical gal in a small town local/he's a hubby who's part machine" from ep 1 of wandavision perfectly encapsulates what it'd be like if they got their own house (with a basement cy converts into a p eclectic study/meditation chamber/etc — he does the bare bones of it and leaves all the decorating up to raven bcuz he knows she knows what she likes better than anyone so). raven tends to float stuff (ingredients for tea, books, furniture, etc) around the house and cyborg becomes v good at ducking and/or snatching things that shouldn't be in mid-air out of mid-air

raven's the first person cyborg talks about his accident — espec his relationship w his father — at length with. i had an au idea for the "crash" episode where the "the only person qualified to repair cyborg is cyborg" line is proven wrong when silas shows up but anyhow. she's a v good listener and (as inspired by the ntt comics) provides the first nudge for cyborg to actually talk to his dad (which is a heated convo that's p heavy and ends kinda uneasily but it's Something)

they don't tell anyone they're together. not at first. they just really, really don't want it to be a big deal. they've always been close tho and the team knows that so it's fairly easy for them to get away with it — until starfire catches a quick, chaste kiss stolen in the hallways and shrieks w delight. cy and rae just swap looks of dull acceptance bcuz they know they're Toast at that point. raven's the one who tells the team — "we're dating. get over it." and after a day of buzz they pretty much do

#teen titans #teen titans 2003 #cyborg #raven #cyrae #hear me out #i'm indulging in nostalgia okay #don't ask me how the teen titans make money that's a logistic i'm not even close to figuring out they just Do #ten year old me is screaming rn #this is a long ass post i'm sorry #i might delete it later tbh #sorry for all the slashes #teen titans headcanons #forgot a tag oops

[karisworldofwords]

I'm a bit late, sorry, but here's the next one 🫶🏻

Day: 9/10

Prompt: "Stay. Please."

Characters: Dennis Foster (Hetalia Capital OC, Canberra), Maik Philip Benjamin Dahl (Hetalia Capital OC, Copenhagen)

Maik wasn't always a sensitive person - that happened more during his time on the streets with his sister, when finally, everything clicked. They were alone. All on their own while out and about 24/7 in such a big, scary world. He wouldn't ever tell his little sister this, but oftentimes, when she saw her strong older brother, he only saw himself as a scared little boy crying for his daddy. Lara could never know that though.

After he got married, it was only natural that these memories and experiences, still unsaid and completely unheard of, followed him into his new life with his two husbands, his husband-in-law, as he liked to say, and his child. By then, it only got harder and harder to keep it all inside and to pull an effective Elsa - á la "Conceal, don't feel".

Since, well... Maik's son shouldn't see his Papa being weak in any way. What kind of a role model would he be if that were to happen?

One day, as Maik was home parenting little Archer and watching him play in his crib, his mind was filled with stupid thoughts such as the fact that his silent mental suffering would only worsen even more the longer he wouldn't speak up, that he'd turn more and more invisible the longer he'd hide away... Stuff like that. Nagging feelings slowly but surely ate away at his soul and the singer sighed, looking down at the ground.

What did Maik have to be worried about though? He was a renowned singer, a heart breaker from the finest, women openly and shamelessly chased him when he was near. That, and all that he could wish for was right within his hands; a mansion, tons of money, a bunch of muscle-y sports cars and, of course, his family. All there. So what was there to worry about for him?

Luckily for the Dane, a certain Australian stunt pilot leaving his home office to get ready for training soon came by Maik's side, and all his worries melted for just a minute. Dennis... Whenever he'd see the man, his heart would skip a beat. Absolutely gorgeous and fluffy dark blue hair accompanied by a pair of brownish-green eyes that Maik could instantly sink into and never return from again... And that soft dark skin of his, a treasure Maik knew how to preserve. That's why he also never scratched his skin too hard during sex - after all, even if Maik was a naturally rough person, he still didn't want for his favorite Australian to bruise so hard it'd scar. Firstly because of his perfect skin needing to be preserved, secondly because else, Dennis' clan would ask questions - and lots of them, usually.

As Dennis went past Maik, he pulled on his iconic brown bomber jacket, brushing his hair back with his hands before he grinned right down at his infant son, who had just began to learn how to crawl. The Aussie bent down to gently boop his son's nose, effectively making the baby squeal happily and hold out his tiny hands towards his Dada, a big smile on his little face that made Dennis laugh as he went to pick him up.

"Naw, who could ever say no to ya, hm? Actually jus' wanted to leave for work but guess I'm gonna be a tad later. Ye did it again, Archie, you lil' rascal.", Dennis cooed whilst cuddling his son, who kissed his Australian father's cheek which made the latter 'aww'. All Maik could do was smile wearily at their interaction, his mind still clouded by the dark thoughts that floated through his head. After a minute or so, and after Dennis had set Archer down, the blue haired pilot approached his Danish husband and went to go hug him, kissing the crown of his head with care. "Aighty, 'm leaving for today. Andy called earlier, one of my mates fell sick on pretty short notice. Sorry, baby...", Dennis remorsefully apologized whole he held Maik protectively - his heart already knowing that there was something off about his hubby.

He was sure of that once no response came from the lead singer, which rang various alarm bells in Dennis' systems. "Maikie? Yer so quiet...", the native Australian tentatively asked, only to get a tighter hold around his waist as a response - and the clear shaking of Maik's body. The dark thoughts had won that day, it seemed. As such, he couldn't say much - all he really managed to mumble were two shaky and spread out words he damn near sobbed into his husband's stomach area.

"Please. Stay."

The moment Dennis heard these words, his heart audibly broke and he leaned down, taking Maik into his arms and holding him as close as possible. "It's okay, baby-boo, I'm here... Gonna shoot Andy a message that Ill be later, it can't be helped. If my hubby needs me, then I'll be there.", Dennis softly reassured the - by then - crying Dane, who simply nodded without a single word. Dennis himself, meanwhile, smiled sadly and ran a careful hand through Maik's hair, brushing it back a bit. "Tea or coffee? Ye know those are your only two options nowadays, remember that. But I'll make sure to get ya either one if you want.", Dennis inquired, reminding the singer and songwriter of his current journey to sobriety.

Maik wiped the tears away by then and smiled a bit shakily at his husband, pecking his lips quite shortly. "Tea please... Love you so much...", be mumbled back, clearly grateful, which made Dennis smile happily in turn as he nodded, taking off his jacket again and heading towards the kitchen. "Understood. Just gimme a few, yeah? It'll be right there, and then we can talk."

As soon as the door to the kitchen fell shut, Maik sighed, clearly shaken, although he still smiled. To think that two words spread apart like that were enough to persuade Dennis to dismiss work the way he did...

Yeah, it was official by then. Maik had truly lucked out in life, even if the start wasn't so nice.

#whumpuary #whump writing #whumpuary2024 #whump #hetalia #hws #aph

[fairymint]

🌻 felix tell me about video games

i think there's 2 main types of game i like to play? game with a story, and game that is somehow absurdly hard, random, yet still fun somehow. once in a while there will be a way to play the former in the latter way.

multiplayer-focused games aren't something i typically play with randos tho, or even often. hubby's been playing a little fall guys lately and i've joined him when i have energy!

most niche game i've ever played was Cream Wolf from adult swim games- werewolf driving an ice cream truck in 8bit.

pokemon wilds scratches an itch that i keep having, but....i keep encountering a glitch where the screen will go pitch black when i enter dark biomes; this can probably be fixed with a save and restart but i keep just closing the window because my ass refuses to save in this game over petty shit.

i need to finish slime rancher 2's content. game's not finished but fffff. i wish slimes were profitable in stardew. i need a game where i can make a rainbow assortment of critters like that. (that ain't a waiting-based mobile game)

and maybe someday i'll accomplish something in feed and grow fish, that shit's rlly hard.

#angelofasclepius #ooc. #munday.

[creampuffs-and-cakes]

——The Making of A Pair——

By the time he came to a realization, Rose was already on his way to get married.

In this tumultuous path to the North where there lies his supposed prince charming, the bump on his head from carriage ride made him suddenly recall his past life.

And currently, he was a trash young master of viscount family Rosella Igritia, sacrificed to the so called monstrous and cold blooded duke of the Northern mountains.

Rose recalled that, shortly after his marriage to said person, his person … comitted suicide!

Aiyo, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. But the reason was that the duke himself … was going to kill him when he finds out that he, Rose, was not actually a female, but male!

It needs to be said that, while same-sex marriages weren’t uncommon, it wasn’t hailed either. This kind of ridicule, wouldn’t anyone get mad? It was also telling the other person to have no heirs. Rose was getting a headache, not just from the bumpy ride, thinking about this.

He was already nearing the gate, so thoughts of escape were futile. Further, despite his tall and almost bulky build, the dress he wore made him look slimmer and catered to accentuate his hips and overall physique to be as feminine as possible. The white contrasted to his dark skin, and though the veil covered his face, it couldn’t completely hide his cotton pink hair underneath the sheer fabric.

One could only sigh and brace himself that … well, he wouldn’t be killed on sight.

“Presenting the viscountess, Rosella Igritia!”

Urgh. Rose was escorted down the carriage and into the large black castle surrounded by ominous winds and falling snow. Hello, dracula? Why the hell is it so intimidating? A normal lady would’ve fainted with fright.

Led inside … It looked completely normal. Like, what a normal castle would look like. Well-lit with many rooms, a carpeted floor—everything was clean and nice, in contrast to the looming doom of its exterior.

Stopping in front of mahogany doors, Rose was brought in the supposed office of the duke, and he was finally able to see his husband-to-be. With the veil, it wasn’t clear, but Rose could tell that the latter didn’t look as bad as the rumours say. He should know since he read the novel. The duke was supposed to be super handsome!

“... You’re a man.”

It was a cold and damning statement said in a deep and indifferent voice.

“Yes.” Rose could only respond as such.

“... Hah.”

Even Rose could tell how expected it would be—the mockery of this marriage.

The man stood up and walked over to him, noticing how he was actually taller than the duke by half a head. Somehow, it was pretty funny.

And the duke noticed this too. Because he scoffed and lifted the veil up.

Ruby red eyes met with silvery greys.

The duke had long brown hair, tied in a low ponytail. With their narrowed eyes and white skin tone, Rose thought the man might be an elf. Seriously, what’s your skincare? The man looked slimmer than him too, or maybe it was the clothes hiding it all. Nevertheless, Rose’s heart thumped in his chest, finding the other’s appearance to be in his strike zone.

“... Are you done staring?”

“Oh? Can I keep doing so?” Rose couldn’t help but smile cheekily.

“...... No.”

“Eeeh? But my husband is so handsome~”

The duke’s brow twitched. “Who’s your husband?”

“You!”

“You are a man.”

“Correct. And I’m also yer wife!”

The duke stared back at Rose with an expressionless face, but as to what he was thinking, Rose couldn’t guess.

“... You’re not afraid of me?”

“On the contrary, I like your face.”

The duke took a dagger by his desk and unsheathed it to point at Rose’s neck. But despite the cold pressure of the blade against his skin, Rose didn’t even bat an eye.

“Are you not afraid to die?”

“Very!”

“Then?”

“It’s just … husband was so fast. I couldn’t even react.”

“...” The duke pressed the blade, making a slight cut with a little blood seeping out.

“Husband, you should treasure me.” Rose pouted. “I’m yer wife.”

The duke blinked at the response. He stood there unmoving for a moment … and retracted the dagger. “Why do you insist on being my wife?”

“It’s like this hubby—,”

“Don’t call me that.”

“—I’m that infamous trashy son of the viscount and yer the so-called monster of the north. But! Isn’t one man’s trash another man’s treasure? Plus! Even though we’re scorned by society, doesn’t mean we can’t act the part.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Rose grinned. “Wouldn’t it be nice to live life happily by doing whatever we wanted—as the villains?”

“... Are you planning to rebel?”

“Not if you don’t want to be the emperor.” Rose hummed. “We can simply live life peacefully and happily by taking care of the people here. Besides, since you’ve amassed power enough to threaten the imperial family to act by isolating you like this, there is no problem with making the territory even better than before.”

That’s right. So what if society didn’t want them? These two outcasts, can’t they find their own happiness? Why’d they need to cater to the mass?

The answer? They don’t.

The duke stared at his so-called wife with scrutiny. “You can get killed with that mouth of yours.”

“That’d be a shame since my mouth can do other things more beneficial to you, hubby~”

“!” The duke’s expression didn’t change, but the heat went straight to his ears when he turned his head away. “Don’t be shameless.”

“But I want to flirt with my hubby and be all lovey dovey~” Rose’s bright and silly smile caused the duke’s heart to skip a beat. Even he had to admit that he also liked his partner's face.

“... It’s Arrow.”

“Arrow?”

“Mn. It’s short for Arial Narrow.” Leaving the dagger on the desk, Arrow came forward to cast a small magic that healed Rose’s wound. A cooling tingling sensation that tickled Rose to laugh a bit.

“Then, I’ll formally introduce myself. My name is Rosella Ingritia. Rose for short.”

“It’s Narrow.”

“What?”

Arrow looked up at Rose. “Your name is Rosella Narrow.”

… Rose chuckled. “Yes. Please take good care of me, hubby~”

It was a small missable smile that etched on Arrow’s face. “You’re too daring.”

“Well, I’m a man too. Oh but don’t you worry hubby. I like taking it from behind and—”

Arrow’s eye twitched. “And really shameless.”

“—I rather call it being honest.”

The duke sighed, and called the butler. “Guide him—”

“My wife!”

Arrow paused. “...... Lead my wife to our shared bed chambers.”

Rose was satisfied and obediently followed the butler. “I’ll see you tonight, hubby~! I’ll make sure to prepare myself very well for you!”

Arrow’s mouth thinned. His ears burned as he turned away and the doors closed.

Sitting back on his chair and looking at the documents calmed him down to think some more. “My wife, huh.”

The duke leaned back, and looked up at the ceiling as he closed his eyes.

He expected the ridicule, but he didn’t expect for the event to turn out this way. A trash and a monster … It felt very fitting.

It also seemed that being trash was just an act.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to live life happily by doing whatever we wanted—as the villains?”

The corners of his lips upturned as Arrow opened his eyes. “... It would be.”

He also didn’t like being pushed around and used by others.

Since he had come this far, building everything around him from scratch, why can’t he be overbearing then?

Wasn’t he a monster after all?

“Then I should play the part properly.”

#rosella sans #arial narrow #oneshot #short scene stories #duke arrow #viscount rose #monster x trash

[alyblacklist]

FALL/AUTUMN PREFERENCES

i was tagged by @jesterbing and this is vastly less scary (really not scary at all) compared to most tags that want me to reveal my firstborn so...

rules: bold what you prefer and tag 10 people (ten?  LOL).

1. go apple picking vs go on a hayride

2. scary vs. sweet (this is really hard because I have the “happy” Halloween decorations and the “scary” Halloween decorations but I have to go with scary...)

3. sweaters vs. boots (I am a shoe freak no matter the season)

4. socks vs. mittens (why would anyone ever choose a mitten over a glove?)

5. bonfires vs. football (I *hate* football much to hubby’s chagrin)

6. trick-or-treating vs. watch scary movies (tough - I love scary movies but candy wins)

9. bake pie vs. bake cookies (my kids would scream COOKIES right about now)

10. rain vs. fog (spookier and I don’t get wet)

11. black cats vs. owls (another tough one but owls are more interesting)

12. ghosts vs. wizards (hello, Harry Potter)

13. harry potter vs. halloweentown (see above and I also have no idea what Halloweentown is)

14. go hiking vs. sleep in (always!!!)

15. cinnamon vs. nutmeg (I use the former more often but I love both)

16. reading vs. writing (very tough call but if I’m being honest, I do more of the latter and less of the former these days but- I do love to read; I think you have to love to read, in order to write?)

17. hot chocolate vs. tea (mostly tea except when shoveling snow and then it *has* to be hot chocolate from scratch - no powdered mix in my house, thank you)

18. live in a cabin in a forest vs. have it be fall 24/7 (none of the above?  Both sound horrifying.  I like fall in its limited doses but summer is my fav)

19. candy apples vs. caramel apples (is this really a contest?)

20. blankets vs. pillows

21. roasted marshmallows vs. roasted chestnuts  (another unfair choice.  Roasted marshmallows are mostly a summer thing for me though - and chestnuts scream late fall/Christmas season so...I’ll do the marshmallows myself at home but I’ll buy the chestnuts from the cart on the corner in NYC...yum)

22. coffee vs. apple cider (specifically for fall, cider.  The entire rest of the year and fall too?  My one cuppa day.  Mandatory.  But hot mulled cider is definitely a fall thing)

23. red leaves vs. orange leaves 

24. braids vs. bows (Neither on me but on my daughter?  Braids now.  Bows when she was tiny).

25. scented candles vs. the smell of fresh baked goods

26. carve pumpkins vs. make pumpkin pie 

27. pumpkin spice lattes vs. chai tea lattes. (Neither.  Both are fake.  Regular latte or none of the above, please.)

28. coats vs. oversized sweaters

29. beanies vs. berets (neither - I hate hats of any sort)

30. candy corn vs. peanut butter cups 

31. s'mores vs. apple crisp

32. jump in a pile of leaves vs. swing on a tire

33. corn maze vs. haunted house

34. bob for apples vs. visit a pumpkin patch

35. whipped cream on hot chocolate vs. marshmallows on hot chocolate

Tagging @aussieokie @nancyjocom @spooniewithtn @iloveredmorethanever @scifi-gk @aomine-dajki @mickeymckeown @gwennieliz @the-most-handsome-ginger and @jlynnblacklist  anyone else who would like to do it (don’t feel obligated)

#fall asks

[strayraccoon]

End of Unchanging Days pt.4

part 1 [link] part 2 [link] part 3 [link] part 4 [link]

Last part of this fic. I might write more crossovers in the future. If you’re curious, be sure to try playing Fallen London or Sunless Sea ^^

Tight alleyways of the Fifth City was something you're familiar with. It's a good method of travel when one wishes not to mingle with overzealous fans or annoying personae. Wet cobblestone under your feet, occasional crates and makeshift furniture used by homeless individuals, mixture of ammonia and coppery odor which would render one's nose numb, bloodshot gazes from individuals spending their idle days within maze-like alleyways. Should one walk about carelessly, they'll fall victim to a bucket of waste thrown out from nearby window.

'SHIIIIIT!!!!' Zapp exclaimed a second after a bucketful of human waste thrown onto him.

'Yeeesh…' Leonardo added as he pinched his nose and made some distance between him and the unfortunate man.

'Ewww!' Chain performed the same action with Leonardo, only more liberal with expressing her disgust. 'Now you're double dirty, stupid monkey'

Zed simply inclined his head and said 'Oh, I can fix that quickly' before forming a huge ball of water above his hands and submerged Zapp into it. He then absentmindedly made Zapp roll around inside the water ball before releasing him. The unfortunate man plopped onto wet cobblestone face down. Zed beamed in glee as he explained, 'Once I saw human using water in a box to wash their clothes, interesting contraption indeed. There's even wringer on it too'

Zapp quickly rose and choked Zed angrily, 'You idioooot! I'm not some dirty clothes!'

'Knock it off kiddo' K.K interjected, she didn't relent her gaze the moment Zapp glared at her. It was obvious who won in the staring contest. She looked at you before expertly changing the topic, 'We're close to the Black Horse. At this time he should be inside. How do you want to approach this?'

You looked at Leo putting an effort to separate Zapp and Zed for a second, then replied, 'Quiet, if possible. But, that's pretty much impossible is it?'

'No, Pearce would be in the gambling den at this time. He has a clay man with him too. So direct approach would be suicidal' Chain pondered as she leaned her back against alleyway wall. Yard siren blaring throughout the city. Despite so, she made an effort to remain calm.

'If direct and quiet don't work, we'll just have to make it a blast' Leo said confidently, grinning widely yet there's a hint of nervousness behind his cheerful nature.

Leo's plan included Zapp, Zed, and himself playing decoy at the Black Horse gambling den, mingling with the guests for a while before throwing select insult words at Pearce, deliberately starting a fight inside the gambling den. The fraud writer himself was not a problem, but his escort might. Both Zapp and Zed are confident in taking him on, though the latter worries about the den's security interference.  Leo, who was supposed to be a lookout, was accidentally involved in the fistfight. He caught a couple of fist into his face but retaliated using whatever power his unique eye granted him. Several people were instantly stunned or imbalanced. That's when both Zapp and Zed mop the floor with them.

Pearce himself was hiding behind the den's bar, constantly barking order at his clay man. Other patrons of the gambling den simply cheered on the fistfight. Several guardsmen threw themselves at the trio, but sheer number couldn't even the odds. In fact, a couple of supporting shots from a Hawkeye added the trio's odd. There were electrical current running through each shot which added to the absurdity of the fight.

You and Chain sighed at the same time, witnessing the absurd scene. Nevertheless, with everyone's attention was aimed at commotion down in gambling parlor, the two of you managed to reach Pearce's apartment on the upper floors. There were a small number of guards which Chain incapacitated quickly and effectively. In fact, none of them realized it until too late. Chain wasn't keen in having you following her, but an alleyway is far more dangerous compared to a gambling parlor.

'Oh, wow, are you sure I'll fit in your group?'

'That's for Mister Klaus and Starphase to decide. But, there are a lot of us who don't actually fight' Chain answered as she dug her arm into a man's chest, incapacitating him effortlessly.

You entered Pearce's room, it is amusingly similar with yours. Small modest apartment room with papers and books strewn about its wooden floor. Inkwell and fountain pen on similarly modest wooden worktable. The only difference was the waft of cheap perfume and smoke instead of old books. Which is considerably makes sense, since Pearce is living inside a gambling den instead of bookstore. Nevertheless, you weren't expecting to find your unknown rival room to be so modest.

'You looked like you're taken aback, poeta' Chain called you back into reality.

'That name is going to stick, isn't it' you sighed, and continued 'Yes, I expected his room to be more…grandiose? Filled with velvet and Turkish carpet, perhaps. A hookah on the corner of the room. High quality furniture, bed with post and curtain. Cheap musk, maybe, and select alcohols he snitch from the bar downstairs'

'Then this makes this a case of simple jealousy. Not a conspiracy. Pretty boring, isn't it? Chain added, crossing her arms idly. 'Why bedpost though?'

'Uhm…there's a lot of things you can do at a bedpost. ' You answered vaguely, in endeavor not to divulge too much in front of polite company.

'Oh my. You have questionable tastes'

"Sue me. Let's just plant the…hold on' you were about to suggest for Chain to start planting 'evidence' inside Pearce room when you saw a couple of books under his bed. You reached towards it and dusted it. There were trace of golden letters on the front and the side of the hardcover. You skimmed the book for a minute. The content made you grin. 'We probably don't need our own 'evidence''

'Why? What's that book? Is he a revolutionary member after all?'

'No, it's a romance book' you grinned at Chain, and she made a small 'o' with her mouth before she started giggling.

It is a known fact that romance literature is banned in the Fifth City, any possession of such contraband would be enough to send someone to Tomb-Colony. Or at least heavy fine from the Yard with right connection and amount of money. Unfortunately for Darcy Pearce, a constable raid on the gambling den uncovered his contraband possession. As he has neither connection not monetary advantage, he was shipped off to Tomb Colony and his charges against a certain poet was waved off as mere literary jealousy.

In turn, the unfortunate poet received a pardon from the Duchess directly, as well as an invitation to perform in one of her salon. The event of at the night of incident was recreated inside a novel, which involved a Master of Criminal World whisking away the poet and a series of action packed scenes in a magical way. Obviously, the readers enjoyed the added flair from the writer's part and waved it off as a mere story. While in fact it's not in the slightest.

'So there you have it' Steven said in satisfied voice, closing his filer and putting it on nearby desk.

You were sitting on a sofa inside Libra's headquarters main room, serving both as office room, meeting area, and lounge for the member. The floor was a black and white checkered akin to chess board. Huge windows were behind executive director's desk. Various potted plants were placed strategically which enhanced the room's atmosphere. Unlike the Royal Bethlehem which boast luxury, this office room felt like home and more comfortable.

The trio sat beside you, each of them had bandages on various part of their body. The fight from the other night left some wounds on them. Despite so, they were smiling. You remembered Klaus was fussing over the three when they returned with wounds all over their body, especially towards Leo who is not used to fighting. You found it funny for such a composed gentleman to lose his composure due to his subordinate's condition.

K.K and Chain came out of the fight unscathed, with their respective ability not requiring them to confronting their enemies upfront. Chain did snitch one of the books from Pearce collection for 'research purposes'. Steven and Klaus had minor injury which took less time to recover compared to the trio.'

Steven giggled as he lifted your novel, 'Master of Criminal World, is it? You do have amazing imagination'

'Hey, who doesn't want to be whisked away like that?' you replied, grinning. Despite your recent literary success, you decided to stay in the bookstore. The melancholic owner did worry about your sudden disappearance and constables barging in all of sudden, screaming accusation about your allegiance to the revolutionary party. He was relieved when you returned almost unscathed, grossly sobbing on your good suit.

'Oh, my. That would be a dream' K.K added, 'But I already have hubby and children…*sigh*'

The supposedly 'Master of Criminal World' scratched his neck shyly, before declaring, 'Operation success, I suppose. One last thing is presenting our poeta to the Duchess. I'll be escorting you for the salon'

'Hitting the high society, eh? Good luck with that, poeta' Zapp said casually as he leaned his head against the sofa. 'I ain't interested'

'Well, you have none of their refined manner, monkey' Chain muttered under her breath.

'Say that again! She-dog!' Zapp caught her mockery.

'Not again, you two!' Leo snapped, avoiding just in time before Chain landed her heels on Zapp's face once again. Zed dragged you out of the way quickly as Zapp lost his balance and dropped on the sofa where you and Leo had sit seconds before. It would have been a domino of human should the two of you remained there.

'If you need better outfit, I can give some suggestion. Our poeta here does need a new one. Can't go to the Shuttered Palace without proper attire after all' K.K suggested, completely ignoring the youngsters breaking into a fight.

'Ohohoho, I can arrange that with young master's permission' Gilbert suggested as he handed you a cup of warm tea. The aroma was similar to your savior the night you escaped the bookstore.

'Please do, Gilbert'

'Once you're ready, master Poeta, I'll need to measure you' said Gilbert. You can tell from his eyes that he's smiling beneath the bandages. He then proceeded to prepare more tea expertly for everyone in the room.

'I knew it's going to stick' you groaned as every Libra members present had already calling you poeta as a nickname.

'Ahahaha' Steven laughed, definitely not apologetic as he's the one who accidentally nicknamed you. 'Speaking of which, you don't have to worry about our Pearce ever again. We made sure he's not coming back to Fallen London ever again'

All's well that ends well, you thought. Then you caught Klaus looked at your way, you swore you saw a hint of admiration in his gaze. Whatever it was, it was gone in a second. He approached you and once again extended his hand towards you. A similar scene played out, only the word was different and you couldn't be more confident of your answer.

'Welcome to Libra' Klaus said as he shook your hand firmly.

#kekkai sensen #rinn writes #I said might write more #but I got plots in my head already #if I know this going to happen I'd choose better name for Pearce damn it #he's going to be Dio #I wanted this to be neutral but apparently turned to be Klaus-centric aaaaaaa #bear man why

[prattbyskov21-blog]

Apocalyptic Adolescent Fiction (36 Publications).

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