#young pickles thoughts

[junkh3ad]

Can you share more of your teen/ SnB Pickles headcanons pls?

OHHHOHOH ANON I LOVE U, I’ll start off with teen pickles

He’s ambidextrous! I feel his mothers a religious type so she’d try to ‘beat the devil out of him’ (whacking his hand with something when writing left handed, which would have been common practice for his generation. It happened to my dad as a kid!) and Pickles quickly finds he can write with both hands, So he switches a lot. Lefty when he can, Righty so he doesn’t end up with ruler marks on his hand.

He’s scared of the dark when he’s a kid, before the garage incident because Seth use to scare him in the middle of the night. He gets a night light and becomes a light sleeper to keep an ear out for him.

As a teenager he’s really into drawing, he draws Wizards and Dragons and listens to Led Zeppelin on his walkman.

He starts smoking at like 13, Cigarettes and Weed along with his drinking. This is where that Punk ass look comes from, i think he’d go to a lot of basement punk shows and mosh and get fucked up.

Snakes N Barrels

Since he’s 16 when he leaves home, i think it takes about a year or so for him to find Snakes N Barrels. He uses a fake ID to get his audition. They don’t find out he lied about his age until he’s already 21 and they’re like…you’ve been 21 for 5 years? what?

He’s on a lot of drugs dude (canonically) but he’s really deep in the trenches (H*roin was big in the 80s/90s) which we know drugs had a lot to do with the downfall it SnB but i think Tony’s the one who gets him hooked on the harder things.

I think he cross dressed A LOT in SnB. Mini skirts, brallets, thongs, the whole nine.

He doesn’t talk about it but he doesn’t care who he sleeps with, at all. Men, Women, as long as they’re over 20. He had to do a lot of shady shit to get to where he is, so he’s got somewhat of a head on his shoulders.

When it all ends he buys a shitty van and drives his way cross country to Florida, having his fun along the way (see this post i made if u want more context on what i mean) before he meets Nathan and everyone else.

[feline-evil]

Dick or no dick confirmation Pickles was always going to be trans to me anyways; if he's swingin' somethin that's phallo babes, if he's not then his t-dick fat. What's not to get.

[solardrop]

beanstalk.

aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: a loser at the local pub thinks spencer is your boyfriend. Aaron drags him. tags: fluff. creepy men being creepy. body shaming (of spencer I'm so sorry). spencer just catching strays in general. word count: ~1.7k a/n: based on an ask. I was gonna just write my thoughts or a short 500 word drabble or something but then ended up writing this until the point I forced myself to just end it lmao. I think it gets a bit convoluted and cringe at the end but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it was fun! not proofread. divider cred @/cafekitsune

The pub was going to the rue the day they made half-off appetizers their weekly special.

The team squeezed in two pushed-together tables and binged on the greasy delights. you and Spencer had gotten into sharp back and forth about the apocalypse on the way there, which earned the both of you a quick banishing to a corner of the table where the rest of the team wouldn’t be subject to your bickering.

You rest your head against the cool concrete pillar you were sandwiched against. A table pressed against a half-wall facing outdoors was a hard sell to a bunch of field agents. However, Penelope’s animated declaration for the team to ‘live a little’ —specifically, to do so before Rossi got any greyer— landed you a wonderful view of the outdoors. You could watch all the homey, drunken people sway to the music flowing from the patio. The crisp night air flushes the overwhelming smell of burnt grease away from your nose. Maybe you could convince Hotch to grab a window seat for some date nights, you have to admit, the vibes were growing on you. While you enjoy poking the brain of your younger genius friend, you miss the solid warmth of Aaron beside you. Thankfully, he opted to sit in front of you instead. 

You took the opportunity to tease him. You kick him playfully under the table, stealing his attention away from the conversation he is having with Derek. He turns to squint at you for a moment, only to grab your food to sandwich it between the wall and his thigh in retaliation. His fingers drum a steady rhythm against your ankle, the ticklish tap tap tap making you squirm. You motion to ensnare his ankle with your other leg when Spencer turns to point his flimsy white plastic fork at you. 

“If emergency services were still in full effect during the zombie apocalypse, there would be a drastic increase in the number of people infected and a significant loss in—”

“A significant loss in medical supplies. Spoken like a true prepper Reid. What's next, gonna tell me about the importance of learning how to pickle your own food for rationing?”

“Actually, during the Great Depression housewives pickles things that lasted their families almost—”

His impending rant is cut short by the return of your server. Anticipating the bill, Rossi reached for his wallet before the woman shakes her head at him. Instead, sliding a drink and a folded up napkin on the table and nodding her head at you. 

“For the lovely young miss by the window.” She flashes a smile at you, “One of our lovely patons seems to fancy you.”

All eyes snap to you, all the color draining from your face as you stare down at the offending item. The drink was almost glowing at you, bright pink glitter swirling in the liquid with pink gummy hearts floating at the top and crystal sugar bedazzling the rim. There was no way this was actually something for the human body to consume. Even Penelope’s brows raised in shock at its extreme display. 

You glance at Hotch, his leg picking up a steady bounce next to yours after the waitresses revelation. His face is hardened, jaw rocking back and forth as he glares at the folded paper next to the drink. You clear your throat and face the woman again.

“Can you tell me who sent this?”

She juts her sharp chin over your head towards one of the outdoor tables. Hotch’s neck cranes around before your own, and you lock eyes with an older man sitting a few tables down. His face was unpleasantly square, the outdated sandy mullet crowning his head doing him no favors either. He raises his beer bottle towards you with a wink. You shiver, scooting closer to Spencer when the admirer hauls himself out of his stool to stride towards you. Aaron has turned almost fully towards outside now, his brow raised.

“Ohh this is gonna be good,” JJ whispers from the other side of Reid. The comment earns her a sharp glare from Hotch, a blush burning in her cheeks as she goes back to nursing her cheeto-crusted mozzarella sticks.

“I just don’t understand,” Spencer starts, “There are seven other people at this table including men at this table why would he be bold enough to-”

A sharp knock sounder off the ledge of the short wall. 

“Well, hello darlin’. I don’t mean to interrupt the dinner with your friends here, Hello friends, m’  names Miles!” He flashed his eyes around the table with a toothy, mustached smile. 

“But i couldn’t help but see your pretty little face in this window ‘ere and I had to buy ya’ a drink!” 

“Ah… Thank you but um-”

“Don’t even sweat it beautiful!” Small specs of saliva fly from his mouth, causing even Spencer to jump back pulling on the hem of your shirt. As if to use you as a human shield from the germs the man was spewing in his general direction. Hooray. Your hero. 

“I even wrote my number on that there lil’ napkin for ya’. My momma raised a gentleman, so I gotta buy you more than a lil liquor before I take you down.” His beady eyes shoot down to your cleavage before snapping back to your face, licking his lip. 

The fingers on your ankles pause at this. Aaron stares down the side of the mans face, lips pressd into a fine line spread across his face. You decide to jump in before your boyfriend takes it upon himself to tear the mystery man a new one.

“Listen, I appreciate the sentiment but, I’m here to have dinner with my friends and my boyfriend so… I could pay you back for the drink? No harm done-”

“Boyfriend!?” He steps back, eyes scanning the table once more before landing on Spencer and snorting. 

“This lil’ stringbean? You can’t possibly be serious” He smiles at Spencer before he continues “Jack and the beanstalk here could barely muscle steel so ya’ll stuck him with plastic,” He waves a crooked finger aimlessly around the table, “And you expect me to believe he’s wrangling a fine figure like yourself down every night?”

That seems to hit a sore spot for Reid, who finally peeps his head from around you. He takes the moment to ramble about the millions of germs and pathogens that could be found on community utensils even after a full wash cycle. Much to the dismay of the creep and team alike, so much so that Derek had to nudge him with his foot. With the conclusion of Spencer’s monologue the man continues

“Anyways, darlin’ for one night let me take you for a spin. Lil' boy like that won't do ya' any good. I promise you only a bigger, older man knows how to really take care of someone crafted as fine as you.” His eyes lower to your chest again and stay there. 

“I assure you she already knows that,” Aaron spits. 

Your eyes snap to his face. He seemd deceptively calm now, his expression almost bored. 

“Pardon?” Miles asks, half-heartedly turning his body towards him. 

“I’ll put it like this for you Miles. Stringbean over here isn’t her boyfriend,” Spencer begins to squeak out in opposition to his new pet name, but Hotch’s voice bellows out above his own, “I know you’re pathetic, that was apparent from the moment you walked up here puffing your chest after buying the cheapest drink on the menu as a gift. But I’m almost surprised you made your impotence so obvious too, considering you made eye contact with everyone you view as non threatening, the women, the man in his late years, the kid.”

Aaron lazily cocks his head towards Morgan, “But not me and my friend here in the corner. But I’m sure you thought you got away with that. Now, I’d suggest you move. The cologne you sprayed to mask the smell of Motel 8 is starting to wear off.”

Your ears warm at his words. Every sharp word honeyed by his calm, almost sweet tone. He spoke as if he was reading the well thought out profile of an elusive crimminal instead of just some ass in a sit down. God you wanted to kiss him. He’d have to let team politics go just this once right? Just a thank you peck. 

Before you can move to move ask him for one, Miles sputters out, “Talkin’ to me like I’m some dumbass— Who the hell d’ya think you are man!?”

Each syllable causes a spray of spit to launch out his mouth, forcing you to scoot even closer to spencer to evade the line of fire. His face shines with sweat and grease, red rising from his shirt collar as he barks at Hotch’s words. 

“I’m her man. Her bigger, older man. But I’m sure you already knew that, since you still refuse to look at me.” Aaron reaches down into his pockets, flipping out his credentials with deft fingers, “And I’m also an agent. As is everyone at the table including the woman you’ve spent the past several minutes sexually harassing.” He scowls, “Now, go sit down and shut the hell up.”

Miles' eyes finally rip away from you to meet his now. The angered flush erupts across his whole body now. He opens his mouth several times before closing it again, iced out by the cold stare Hotch gives him. He turns on his heel and marches back to his table without a fight. He sniffs his collar before jumping back in clear disgust.

A beat passes and the whole table erupts into laughter at the absurd happenings. Aaron’s face softens, still frowning in the general direction of the slimy man. Jolting when Derek claps him on the back and shakes him in praise. 

“Alright Hotch! Racing to defend your girl, I didn’t know you had it like that!”

“Well, I’m not surprised,” You stretch across the table to grasp his hand, kissing his knuckles before he could protest. He envelopes your hand in both of his and gives you a warm smile,  “my man is my hero in and out of the field.” He breathes out a laugh, knocking his knee against yours for your teasing. 

“Next time, you and String Bean get into it, we’re doing a different seating arrangement.”

[evilminji]

*slams the door open* I am? Once again a GENIUS!

Give that Witchboy a baby!

Klarion! Lord of Chaos, good looking young man of FABULOUS hairstyles, partner in crime of the MAGNIFICENT Teekle... is? In a bit of a pickle. Tiny bit of a problem. Itty, bitty, theoretically possible touch of a CONCERN, if you will. Might even have done goofed.

See, and he knows this is out of character for him, he THOUGHT? It would be funny? To play a... a LITTLE, tiiiiny, harmless bitty joke on the Lord of Time. Ha ha... funny right? We're all joking around~! H-having a LAUGH?

....please don't unwind me into unexistence! We're too hilarious and gorgeous to die!

You wouldn't kill a kid with a cat, would you!?

And, yeah, maybe he and Teekle start monologing. Dramatically lamenting how Teekles care routine is going to RUINED and they are going to DIE, how no one can take a JOKE, trying to bargin their way out of their impending demise. Etc etc. But?

Then? The Lord Of Time muses that Teekle IS very well cared for? And?

Look, buddy, kill him or don't kill him! You're not gonna get Teekle! Keep your filthy cat molesting hands to yourself! No one touches his baby!

That's apparently the "right answer".

He suddenly has a God Toddler in his other arm, cradled against his chest, right next to Teekle. W-What? The Price(TM) for Sparing His Life(TM) is raising and protecting his... WAIT, WHAT!?

Klarion become a Teen Dad. Teekle become a Cat Parent. Both are baffled and highly alarmed. What has happen to their eternal Hot Chaos Summer!? Fast cars and the country side filled with frogs that are on fire? Milk shakes and rattlesnakes down peoples shirts?

Parenthood?!?! This is going to RUIN ALL THEIR FUN PLANS!

..........or......or IS it? Teekle, hear him out, what if? We take the glow potato? WITH us? It's a baby! They don't do much. Probably good enrichment or something! Yeah! We'll get one of those baby carriers and just? Rain on the Justice Dorks parade, WITH A BABY! That's EXTRA embarrassing for them!

We could have matching outfits!

Nevermind! I saved it! Teekle, we're geniuses. Let's go rob some baby stores! Come on, Jr.! Time to learn Daddy's favorite past time! CHAOS.

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @hdgnj

[call-memissbrightside]

Katsuki experiences his first tantrum with his son Katsuma and he doesn’t know what to do.

Truthfully, he didn’t think Katsuma was still young enough to even throw tantrums but the five year old was tired, hungry, and gotten a write up at school when he picked him up on Friday, and when Katsuki didn’t order him his favorite hamburger without pickles… he blew up.

“Chill out kid.” Katsuki could feel people staring.

“No pickles!” He screeched, big tears rolling down his red eyes, mouth wide and fingers hooked onto his bottom teeth.

“I’ll take them off,” Katsuki offered, but Katsuma shook his head.

“Noooo!” Katsuma yelled louder, more upset.

Katsuki shifted in his booth, clearly uncomfortable and not knowing what to do.

Their food laid abandoned on the table in front of them.

Hearing his pained cries pulled at Katsuki’s heartstrings and he sighed loudly, moving to kneel down in front of his son.

“Katsuma,” he held out his palms, and Katsuma all but jumped into his arms.

“Daddy,” Katsuma hiccuped, “I don’t want pickles.”

Katsuki rubbed his sons back, knowing deep down it wasn’t the pickles that was the problem.

“Mommy would’ve known to not get pickles right?” Katsuki thought he managed his first weekend with his son okay — they went to the park, and the kids museum, Katsuma even got to meet some of his friends.

Yet, it was a little late and he could tell the five year old was missing his normal routine, and you, his mother.

“Mommy sometimes forget too,” Katsuma muttered, wiping his tears and snot on Katsuki’s shoulder but he didn’t pay any mind.

Katsuki smiled, feeling a bit better that his son was trying to cheer him up.

“How about this?” Katsuki moved Katsuma to face him.

“We get you a new burger, no pickles. Then, we call your mom goodnight and you can tell her all about our weekend?”

Katsuma instantly cheered up, “I can tell her I saw some shark bones!”

The older blonde chuckled, using his thumb to wipe the wetness on Katsuma’s cheek.

“She’d love that buddy.”

[hedgehog-moss]

I finally planted my garden last week! We had a couple of days of sun which gave me hope, but it's once again raining every day. Thoughts and prayers for my tomato plants, but I couldn't keep everyone in the greenhouse forever, I had to make room for other plants.

(In the fourth picture above you can see what's inside the hügelkultur mound—it's a pile of branches + llama manure + compost + potting soil. One thing I find great about it is how well it retains moisture! Well it's not a problem this year so far but during heat waves I water these plants a lot less than non-mound plants.)

In the greenhouse my seedlings have been struggling due to lack of sun. Impossible to get courgette plants so I had to buy a few from the young couple in town who recently started a plant nursery—they didn't have many either, and I had to share with the mayor who also came looking for courgette plants because slugs devoured all of his.

He must have seen on my face that I thought my plants didn't stand a chance if slugs don't even respect municipal authority, because he kindly advised me to place crowns of bedstraw (see above) around my plants to protect them. I didn't dare to ask "If it works so well why do you have no courgette plants left?" I just said thank you, and then spent an entire evening last week weaving this sticky weed into crowns and whatsapping photos of my art to the mayor, who always replied "More! More! It needs to be thicker! Like a doughnut!"

Meanwhile 1 leek in the greenhouse suddenly grew a lot thicker while the other 3 remained skinny and fearful-looking and I'm not sure why. They share a pot, so maybe it's like vanishing twin syndrome. My bell pepper seeds had the same asynchronous development issue—one pot is just now starting to have timid seedlings while the other (right next to it) already contains a grown-up plant with baby peppers:

By far my happiest greenhouse plants are the potatoes and lettuce. They shot up so fast! I've been eating a lot of lettuce lately but I can't keep up with how quickly they grow in this cold, rainy spring. And I haven't had any slug raids in the greenhouse so that's great.

My greenhouse squash, onions and pickles are still tiny and not worth a photo (harsh, but this post already has too many photos). My strawberries in the aquaponic towers are beautiful despite the lack of sun and I've been getting mini-harvests of 2-3 strawberries a day for two weeks! They're done now, but I started more seeds so maybe I can get a second round at the end of the month.

Three more things:

1. Morille helped a lot as I was planting the garden. She kept an eye on my gardening tools so no one would steal them, and sometimes used them as cheek-scratchers. At one point I put one of my beautiful bedstraw crowns around her neck so she looked like Philip III of Spain in that painting where he wears a big ruff, but tragically she ran away in outrage before I could take a picture, and when she returned she'd got rid of her collar.

2. At the cow parade the other day there was a lady at the market who sold jars of homemade pesto sauce made from all kinds of different plants, and it opened up my mind to entirely new pesto horizons!! I always make the traditional kind with basil, but I have plants that grow much faster than basil, like my rocket, so I tried making pesto with 1/3 basil 2/3 rocket (plus garlic, olive oil, parmesan, cashews) and it was so good! I have to explore all of her recipes now, like plantain or nettle or sage pesto...

3. There's a monster in the greenhouse. It appeared practically overnight and is quickly claiming more and more territory. Unlike last year it's not a parsley monster—it's my lemon balm. One day it was growing in its vertical tower, luxuriant but tidy, like a normal plant, and the next it had quintupled in volume and was threatening to swallow the nearest planter. Look at the tiny tomato plants, they look terrified of it!

I urgently need to fight back against this giant mélisse (as we call lemon balm) but I've been really busy and I keep putting it off, and then remembering anxiously at 11pm that I still have this creature to take care of, which is ironic seeing as lemon balm is supposed to relieve stress and anxiety. This is the exact opposite of why I planted you. Anyway if you never hear from me again after this post it's because I finally engaged in battle against this year's vegetal menace, and lost.

[pucksandpower]

Grid Kids: y/n pregnency!!

Grid Kids: Bun in the Oven

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: moments with the grid kids during your pregnancy

Series Masterlist

Kicking Up a Storm

“Did the little one just ...” Charles’ eyes widen as he pulls back his hand abruptly from where it had been resting on your stomach.

Lando, lounging on the other side of the room with a video game controller in hand, smirks, “Did what? Tried to escape? Can’t blame it, considering the rest of its siblings."

You swat playfully at Lando as Max and George, engrossed in assembling a nursery chair, look up in anticipation. “Come on, let us feel!” Max pleads, abandoning the chair pieces on the floor.

As everyone gathers around, taking turns to gently place their hands on your baby bump, you feel a flutter, a gentle kick responding to their touch. The room fills with gasps of wonder and joy.

“Feels like a future driver if you ask me,” George grins, looking at Sebastian, who chuckles, already imagining another Vettel on the tracks.

Lance, feeling a tad left out, decides to jump in. “Can it hear us? Hello in there, it’s your brother Lance! Remember to pick me as the fun brother, okay?”

Mick, who has been reading every pregnancy book he could get his hands on, chimes in, “You do realize the baby can’t differentiate voices yet, right?”

Lance waves him off, “Details, details.”

Cravings Are No Joke

“Pickles and chocolate? Seriously?” Max raises an eyebrow, holding up the two seemingly mismatched items as he stands in the middle of a grocery store aisle.

Lance, pushing the cart, shrugs. “Don’t question the cravings, just go with it.”

Charles, scrolling through the list on his phone, adds, “Oh and don’t forget the spicy ramen, blueberry pie, and ... pineapple pizza?”

George groans, “Pineapple pizza? Come on! Anything but that. I’m not even Italian and I’m still offended.”

Lando, with an impish grin, quips, “Remember when she wanted the mango gelato at 3 am? That was a fun drive.”

Mick chuckles, “Or the time we went to five different bakeries just to find that particular lemon cake she couldn’t live without.”

Lance pauses, looking thoughtful, “And wasn’t there a phase where she only wanted foods that were purple?”

George nods, “Yep, aubergines, purple potatoes, grapes ... I still can’t look at a plum without laughing.”

As the grid kids continue shopping, picking out items based on the rather diverse list you gave them, they share more anecdotes of the past months. The store’s other patrons watch in amusement as the young men navigate the aisles, often debating the merits of various brands or flavors, all to ensure they get it just right for you.

Later, back home, your grid kids proudly present their haul. You and Sebastian look on with affection as they lay out the eclectic mix of food.

“Did you guys get everything?” You ask, trying to hide your laughter.

Max feigns offense at being questioned, “Of course, we’re professionals.”

Sebastian leans in to whisper in your ear, “I’m just glad they didn’t try cooking this time. Remember the schnitzel incident?”

You giggle, recalling the disastrous attempt. “Of course I do. I was cleaning flour off the cabinets and ceiling for weeks. But hey, it’s the thought that counts.”

It’s a …

The preparations for your gender reveal are in full swing at the local park and your grid kids are at the heart of it. They’ve split into two factions: Team Girl, led by Charles and Lance, and Team Boy, spearheaded by Max and Lando.

Charles and Lance have laid out a series of pink challenges, including a three-legged race where participants wear pink tutus. “It’s going to be a girl, no doubt about it!” Lance proclaims confidently.

Max and Lando, on the other hand, have a blue-themed obstacle course, complete with a mini kart race. Lando, wearing a blue bandana, shouts over the ruckus, “I have no idea what you’re talking about because it’s definitely a boy.”

George has taken on the role of referee. Dressed in a striped shirt, whistle in hand, he’s ensuring that the competition remains friendly. “Remember, it’s all in good fun!” he reminds everyone, though his “Team Girl” badge suggests where his loyalties lie.

Mick, though undecided, has tie-dye patches of both blue and pink on his shirt. “I just want a healthy sibling for all of us,” he says with a gentle smile, standing back and enjoying the antics.

Sebastian, watching the chaos unfold, leans over and whispers in your ear, “Did we really think letting them plan this was a good idea?”

You laugh, “It’s a bit crazy but look at them. They’re having the time of their lives!”

The moment everyone’s been waiting for finally arrives. At the center of the park, a large, sealed box waits. As you and Sebastian approach, the grid kids form a circle around it, their playful banter coming to a halt.

With a shared look of excitement, you both pull on the ribbon. The box flaps open, releasing a cloud of ... green smoke?

The park erupts in a mixture of laughter and confusion.

Max looks baffled, “Green?”

Charles chuckles, “Guess neither team wins today!”

Lando, trying to waft away the smoke, jokes, “Alien? Oh my god, you’re having an alien!”

Mick wraps an arm around you, “Like I said, as long as it’s healthy.”

You smile, nestling into Sebastian’s side, “We thought we’d keep everyone guessing for a little longer.”

False Alarm

“Sebastian! The baby! I think it’s happening!” You exclaim, feeling a sudden tightening in your abdomen.

Sebastian, who was in the middle of mediating a lively debate with Max and Charles over who will be the baby’s favorite brother, nearly trips over the rug in his rush to get to you. “Okay, okay, okay. Deep breaths, in and out.”

Lance, eyes wide as saucers, frantically begins googling “how to deliver a baby” on his phone while George starts making a list of things needed for the hospital. “Towels! We need towels, right?”

Lando is somewhere on another planet, muttering to himself, “This isn’t happening. I am not ready to see a baby being born. Nope, nope, nope.”

Mick tries to restore some order. “Calm down everyone. Y/N, are you sure it’s really labor?"

Before you can respond, Charles bursts through the door, holding a bucket of ice. “I read somewhere you might need ice. Here!”

You laugh through the discomfort, appreciating the chaos ensuing because of your grid kids’ concern. "Actually guys, I think it’s just Braxton Hicks. False alarm.”

A collective sigh of relief sweeps the room. Sebastian, still slightly pale, pulls you into a hug, “You sure know how to keep things exciting.”

Lance looks up from his phone, “What’s Braxton Hicks?”

“It’s like a rehearsal for the real thing,” George explains, folding up his hastily made list.

Max, trying to regain his cool, smirks, “Well, if that was a rehearsal, the main event is going to be epic.”

You chuckle, patting your belly, “Guess the little one just wanted to see how quickly you all could jump into action.”

Putting the “Student” in “Student Drivers”

As you and Sebastian sit on the couch, going over your prenatal class schedule, a curious George peeks over. “What’s that? Are those the birthing classes?”

You nod, “Yep! We’re starting next week. It’ll help us prepare for the big day.”

Suddenly, Charles pops up beside George, eyes widening in interest. “Can we come?”

“That sounds cool! I’ve always wondered what those classes are like.” Lando chimes in from where he’s keeping an ear out in the kitchen.

Sebastian looks a bit overwhelmed, “I thought it was just going to be the two of us.”

Lance joins the group, scrolling through a magazine article about celebrity dads attending birthing classes. “Look at this! It’s a thing now. We could all go and support you both.”

Max adds, “Besides, we’re family. We’ve been there through everything else. Why not this?”

“Do they even allow so many people to join?” Mick ponders.

You can’t help but laugh at the eager faces in front of you. “I never thought I’d have to bring an entourage to a birthing class.”

Sebastian rubs his temples. “Okay, how about this? We’ll ask the instructor if it’s okay. If they allow it, you guys can join on one condition.”

Lando bounces on his toes, “What’s that?”

“No teasing or making jokes during the class. We’re there to learn and be supportive.”

Charles nudges Max, “That’s mainly directed at you.”

Max fakes innocence. “Me? I would never!”

You shake your head, “Alright, I’ll call tomorrow and see if our little ... or rather large group can attend.”

Your grid kids cheer, excited about the new adventure. As they scatter, already planning and discussing among themselves, Sebastian leans over to whisper in your ear, “This baby is already turning our world upside down and they’re not even here yet.”

You smile and squeeze his hand, “With this family, every moment is an adventure.”

***

The birthing center’s usual tranquil ambiance is slightly offset by the excited chatter of the grid kids as you all enter. The instructor, a calm and composed woman named Clara, raises an eyebrow at the large group but doesn’t comment. After all, it’s not every day that half of the Formula 1 grid walks into her class.

The session starts with everyone introducing themselves. Most couples share sweet stories of their relationship journey. When it's your turn, Sebastian starts, “I’m Sebastian, this is my wife, Y/N,” he pauses, motioning to the group, “and these are ... our sons.”

The room erupts in chuckles. One of the expectant mothers quips, “That’s a lot of kids! You two have been busy!”

Clara moves on with the class, demonstrating breathing techniques. Everyone’s earnest attempt to follow along results in a mix of deep breathing, snorts, and a few stifled laughs. At one point, Max, struggling to get the rhythm right, looks over at Lando and mutters, “I feel like I’m preparing to go underwater.”

When it comes time for practicing labor positions, the grid kids enthusiastically volunteer. George and Charles end up demonstrating a position, with George playing the supporting partner and Charles the laboring mom-to-be. The sight of Charles leaning into George, pretending to be in labor, has the room laughing, especially when Charles exaggerates with dramatic moans.

Lance and Mick take a turn next and when Lance offers words of encouragement to “pregnant” Mick, saying, “You’re doing great, sweetie,” you almost fall off your chair laughing.

Towards the end of the class, Clara demonstrates the use of a birthing ball. Lando decides to take a leap onto one only to bounce off, crashing into Max and sending both of them tumbling to the ground. The room is in stitches.

Despite their hilarious antics, your grid kids genuinely try to grasp the concepts, asking thoughtful questions and engaging in the exercises.

As the class wraps up, Clara approaches you with a smile. “I must say, this has been the most ... lively class I’ve ever taught.”

You grin, “That’s one way to put it.”

She chuckles, “But it’s clear they all care deeply for you and want to support you both in any way they can.”

Sebastian nods, wrapping an arm around you, “We’re very lucky to have them.”

For Real This Time

Lando and Charles are in the middle of a heated argument over the best way to make a sandwich (complete with props and charts) when you suddenly feel a warm sensation. Looking down, your eyes widen. “Uh, guys?”

“What is it?” Sebastian jumps up right away.

You swallow, “I think my water just broke.”

For a moment, there’s stunned silence. Then … mayhem.

Max yells, “To the car! Now!” while Lance scrambles to grab the pre-packed hospital bag.

George accidentally knocks over a vase in his attempt to find your phone. “Sorry! We can clean that up later, right?”

Mick tries to maintain calm, “Everyone, deep breaths, remember the class?”

Lando, eyes wide, mutters, “This is nothing like the class.”

Upon arriving at the hospital, the reception area becomes a scene of organized chaos. As Sebastian wheels you in, the grid kids follow in a flustered procession.

A nurse at the reception desk blinks in surprise. “Is there a convention in town?”

Mick, panting slightly, replies, “No, just family.”

Lando adds, “The biggest family you’ve ever seen.”

Another nurse, recognizing some of the faces, chuckles, “Formula 1 drivers in the maternity ward? Now I’ve seen everything.”

Inside, as the medical team preps you, the grid kids stand outside, pacing and nervously waiting. They take turns peeking through the small window, offering waves and thumbs-up.

Sebastian holds your hand and doesn’t complain once as you grab back hard enough to break every bone in it, “You know, I’ve faced pressure on the track but this ... this is on another level.”

You chuckle, squeezing his hand, “Just remember, I’m doing the hard part.”

Soon enough, after what feels like both a minute and a lifetime, the beautiful cry of your newborn fills the room. Your grid kids, hearing the sound, cheer loudly, causing several nurses to hush them.

Charles, tears in his eyes, says, “We’re big brothers now. Like, for real.”

“Wait,” Lando interjects, “aren’t you already a big brother?”

“Shush mate, let me have this moment.”

Max rolls his eyes but smiles, “Welcome to the family, little one. We’re a bit crazy but we already love you so much.”

[ozzgin]

[Baki Masterlist]

Yandere! Pickle x Reader

"Was that Hanayama on the phone?" you inquire slightly distracted. "What did he want?"

"I'll explain more on the way, (Y/N). I know it's a bit sudden, but we should hurry."

Baki grabs your wrist with gentle confidence and begins to sprint lightly, allowing you to match his pace.

"What the hell? Did something happen?" you increase your speed without complaints, though you'd like to know why you just started running like a madman.

"Remember that caveman we saw on TV?"

"Pickle? Yeah, how is that-" your mouth hangs open for a few more seconds as you process the information, and as everything finally clicks into place you furrow your brows at the young boy. He quickly turns his head to glance at you and flashes an apologetic smile.

"I just wanted to see him with my own eyes. Aren't you curious, too?"

You press your lips together and just look ahead. When Baki is like this, there's no point in arguing. The two of you have developed this dynamic of a little brother looking for trouble and the older sibling going along with it, too softened by their affection to say no.

You assume you've reached your destination when a large group of men are standing close together, observing something in frightened silence. You push past them and notice Hanayama, standing casually in front of the large man that's been making the headlines for the past days. Your eyes trace the heavy dents and cracks left in the asphalt, somewhat regretful for missing the event that caused them.

Pickle turns around, following Hanayama's gaze. Among the terrified expressions there's a small boy grinning with excitement. Next to him is an even smaller human who immediately reminds Pickle of the woman that had approached him upon his arrival. His eyes widen as he takes in the soft features and smooth frame. The tiny human returns the stare, although with detached indifference. Pickle can feel his heart throbbing loudly in his chest. He doesn't sense any fear and that entrances him greatly.

"Hey, come on, don't be like that." Baki snaps him back to reality. "I've been looking forward to seeing you, you know? I wanted to meet you so badly! When I heard you escaped, I asked Hanayama to keep an eye out for me."

Pickle extends his fist, seemingly unimpressed by the monologue, and Baki doesn't hesitate to return the gesture. Within seconds Baki finds himself flipped upside down, but he quickly readjusts himself and lands safely, struck with amazement.

"Isn't that aikido?!" you gasp in disbelief, sharing Baki's reaction. Pickle immediately picks up on the fact that you've observed him and a satisfied smile appears on his face. Were you impressed by his newly acquired skills? Whatever bizarre techniques these humans were throwing at him weren't hard to decipher nor reproduce.

Pickle's musings are interrupted by a strong kick to the face. Baki barely manages to contain himself. He's panting and sweating with feverish anticipation.

Before Pickle can react, the tiny human swings her arm and whacks the boy behind his head.

"Oi! What's the matter with you? This is the kind of face you make when seeing your girlfriend, not some random museum exhibit. Tone it down or I'll let Kozue know what kind of pervert she's dating!"

"It's not like that!" Baki rubs his freshly earned wound in embarrassment. "And you didn't have to hit me that hard. You're going to scare Pickle off."

The large prehistoric man watches the exchange. He doesn't understand what they're saying, but the body language indicates that they're close. Are they mates? He becomes slightly irritated at the thought. He wants to know the pretty looking human better, but it now seems there's an obstacle in the way. He'll take care of it.

***

Pickle starts walking away, guiding his new friends down the busy streets of Tokyo until they reach the underground arena. Despite Tokugawa's anger upon finding the escape artist, you whistle in admiration. You wish you had this kind of spatial orientation.

"So, what is it you want to do now that you've brought us here?" Baki is the first one to break the silence.

"Baki, isn't it obvious what you're gonna do here? You know what's done here, don't you? He's picking a fight with you!" Tokugawa exclaims, the scolding attitude from a moment ago long forgotten.

The light above you is abruptly dimmed and you look up to see that Pickle is somehow standing inches away, towering over with a wide grin. How did it bypass your attention? Tokugawa lets out a yell of surprise; Hanayama and Baki immediately switch to a defensive stance. They didn't expect this.

"W-what is he doing?" the old man mumbles in fear.

Pickle places a heavy hand on your head and ruffles your hair lightly. You stare in confusion, unsure how to react. He bends over for a brief moment and inhales in rapid intervals, as if inspecting your scent. Once satisfied, he growls at you - perhaps in an attempt to communicate - and turns back to Baki.

"Is it possible he likes (Y/N)?" Hanayama hums, weighing his thoughts.

"In that case, maybe he sees Baki as his rival?" Tokugawa points out.

"Hmmm. Then it should make this fight even more entertaining." Hanayama continues.

"I'm in the room, you know? You're talking as if I'm some meat on display." you groan in annoyance.

"Sorry, sorry, (Y/N). We'll clear things up with Pickle after this, alright? Until then let me have my fun, please~" he pouts and looks at you with pleading eyes.

The large man grinds his teeth in anger as he's witnessing this clear display of disrespect. He's just announced his intentions to claim you, and this human half his size is mocking him in plain sight. He'll make sure he never gets up again. With a thrust, he lands his foot on Baki's chest and sends him flying into the public seating. The poor young boy gasps for air and passes out almost instantly.

Pickle begins to approach him in heavy, menacing steps. Hanayama raises his arms in his signature stance, pondering whether or not to interfere in someone else's fight. You don't share his battle etiquette and plant yourself in the path of the Jurassic man.

"That's enough. You've won." you claim in a low, assertive demand.

Pickle puckers his lips in surprise and curiosity. His eyebrows are raised and he stops to consider. Are you trying to protect your mate? Do you not understand how these things work? He's stronger and therefore entitled to his prize. Why wouldn't you want a partner that's more capable of protecting you, anyways? It makes no sense.

He gently presses your shoulder in an attempt to move you out of the way, but it doesn't seem to do much. He increases the force to the point he can feel your arm muscles contracting and flexing, though you still don't budge. His mouth opens slightly and he lets out an inquiring growl.

Looking into your eyes, he catches a glimpse of the same determination he saw in the man he fought recently. A smile widens on his face, revealing his polished fangs. To think that such a small body is holding so much tenacity. He's very proud of himself for finding a fitting partner.

You haven't attacked him so far, so he guesses you've reached a similar conclusion. You're probably asking him to let the feeble human live with his loss. He can, of course, show this courtesy for your sake. He lifts you by the waist and holds you above his head. He can finally take his time admiring your features. He wants to etch them into his memory, down to the finest detail.

"Well...that stopped him at least." Tokugawa comments with his arms folded, standing awkwardly before the bizarre scene.

"I doubt he'll harm (Y/N), so let's get Baki out of here." Hanayama climbs up the stairs towards the unconscious boy. "Can we leave you alone with Pickle for now, (Y/N)? I'm sorry for putting you into this situation."

"I should manage", you sigh in defeat. Once again you're left to deal with the mess. You pat Pickle's head in an attempt to secure your safety even further. The large man is elated and lets out some high pitched sounds that reverberate across the arena. He even dares to wonder if his awakening was something meant in order to meet you. That's how he feels right now, at least. A fateful encounter with his lifelong companion, regardless of where this strange new life might take him.

"Ooh, Professor Payne won't be happy about this..." Tokugawa laments, following Hanayama.

***

"I'm glad you're finally done with your Jurassic adventure", you tell Baki as both of you stroll through the city.

"I'm a bit salty I didn't win, though." He slouches dramatically and you laugh at his theatrics.

"You're never satisfied with anything. You should be grateful you didn't end up like Retsu, Katsumi or Jack." you place your index in front of his face, pretending to lecture him.

"By the way, did you see the latest news? They want to put Pickle back to sleep. What will you do?"

"Me? What business do I have with it? I had him attached to my hip this whole time, I can finally catch my breath."

"It was your one and only chance to have a boyfriend!" Baki teases you with a wink. "Poor Pickle is probably going mad looking for you now. Don't you want to at least say goodbye?"

"If I go say goodbye I won't leave again, so no thank you."

You slow down as you reach the intersection. This is where you usually part ways, so your conversation has come to an end.

"Well, it was nice hanging out with you. I'll see you around." the boy waves as he continues to the left. You check the time on your phone and stretch with a yawn. You can't wait to have a proper sleep.

You arrive at your apartment and fumble with your pockets to find the keys. When you glance at the lock, you notice a massive shadow looming over the entire wall. You step back instinctively and realize that whatever is creating the shadow currently stands behind you. Two arms sprawl out and twist around your body. You're overwhelmed by a now familiar smell.

Pickle rests his head on yours and closes his eyes. Oh, the absolute terror he went through when he realized you were no longer with him! The helplessness of not being to communicate this disaster to the confused humans in white coats, staring at him without the slightest idea. How did not a single one of them comprehend that his partner vanished? He'd trashed the place over in a blind rage and turned the city upside down in his desperate search. He never felt so vulnerable and naked and weak. Thankfully, he knows your scent so well that the smallest hint of it can get him running.  

But alas, you're here now in his arms and he vows to never lose you again. He doesn't know where he is or what this reality means, but he has one certainty he can cling onto. That you're all his, until time freezes over again.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Baki Shorts: Three’s a Crowd but Four’s a Party

I decided to pick the Wake Up series back up as per Monster anon’s fun request to have a Pickle x reader x Jack. And I thought I should add Hanayama in that mix.

So enjoy!

“Jack is going to be fighting that caveman from the news.” A young man’s voice whispered in (your name)’s ear. The young woman sighed in annoyance.

“I don’t know why that has anything to do with me.” (Your name) responded to Jack’s half brother, Baki. Lately the redhead has been texting and calling her on Jack’s behalf. But to be fair, she did block Jack. She was ready to shut that chapter in her life but Jack wasn’t budging.

The blonde refused to sign the divorce papers and he demanded that she came back home. It’s been a stressful last few weeks.

She saw Kaoru here and there. Kaoru may have been a busy man, but he still made time for her. He’d take her on extravagant dates and sightseeing. Kaoru made her world bright again and she found herself slowly falling for his never ending affections… (your name) enjoyed being spoiled for a change.

But she did try to put in equal effort. She didn’t shy away from his kisses nor when he held her hand under the table during meals. He made her heart race again. (Your name) could really see herself with him, despite him being a few years younger than her.

Despite his career as a crime boss, he was surprisingly soft with her. It wasn’t uncommon for him to lay beside her on his bed with his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.. Kaoru didn’t push past her boundaries and was satisfied with small kisses and soft touches. She was surprised with how gentle he was being to her despite his hot pursuit prior. Maybe it had something to do with when she shared with him that she’s never been intimate with anyone before, not even Jack… either way, she was appreciative of Kaoru’s patience.

Kaoru told her that this side of him was specifically reserved for her. It made her feel special… she had wished Jack had reserved this sort of warmth for her… maybe then she wouldn’t be in her early twenties and already getting a divorce (or trying to at least).

(Your name) stretched her arms over her head with a yawn. Should she go see Jack and talk to him? Or should she sleep some more? From the way Baki’s voice sounded, it sounded like Jack needed support. And she knew she still loved him. Some small piece of her would always love Jack.

“(Your name)? Are you still there?” Baki’s voice drew her from her musings. Her heart beat erratically in her chest. She almost lost herself down memory lane there for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m here.” (Your name) softly muttered, she heart a deep breath being taken in by Baki on the other line.

“Look… I don’t know what’s going on between you two but… Jack misses you.” Baki whispered like it was a secret he shouldn’t be sharing. “I know he’s emotionally constipated but he loves you. I-“

“That’s enough, Baki.” (Your name) interrupted Baki with a shaky breath. “I’ll come.”

“Will you? Thank you. I’ll let him know-“

“But this is the only time.” (Your name) replied softly. Yes… one time. This is a one time deal and then she’d be a free woman.

“I understand. Have a good one, (your name).” Baki then hung up the line, which left (your name) to decide whether or not she wanted to tell Kaoru about this.

She decided to text her potential beau of this outing as she slipped on a light jacket over her tank top and shorts. She was sure he’d be understanding once she explained how this may be her only opportunity to get Jack to sign the papers.

(Your name) sent Kaoru a long text with a smile. Maybe once the divorce was finally over with, the two of them could be official? That was a nice thought.

Sadly it was an unrealistic one. Jack wasn’t quite willing to let her go so easily… and neither was his opponent.

.

.

.

(Your name)’s hands covered her mouth at the sight before her. There was blood all over the arena and a slumped over Jack.

A strangled cry escaped her lips from Jack’s appearance. The skin from the lower half of his face was missing as well as many of his teeth.

Without another thought, she ran towards her fallen husband, unaware of the caveman who had spotted her. An amused rumble left his lips, his golden eyes fixated on her.

(Your name)’s hands brushed against Jack’s bare abdomen, tears gathered in her eyes at the sight of him. Jack was decimated by the caveman… he was just barely breathing.

“Jack?” She softly whispered, her eyes glanced at the blood on his fingers. He must have tried puncturing the caveman’s ear drums with his fingers… of course Jack would plan to do something so savage.

A large shadow loomed over her as a growl escaped the chest of Jack’s assailant.

“Get away from her, Pickle!” Baki shouted as she whipped her head around to come face to face with Pickle.

Pickle’s eyes were wide at the tears that streamed down her face, the cave man’s breath hitched. Why did she cry? Was the blonde her mate? He was a terrible mate if he was.

Pickle reached a clawed finger out to try to brush away her tears, his own started to fall from his face. Was she lonely like him?

(Your name)’s eyes widened when Pickle began to cry. Her hands slowly rose up to touch his pretty face, Pickle leaned into her touch with a purr.

He defeated her mate so that made her his. He was stronger so he would be more suitable for her. Or at least that’s what made sense to Pickle.

Pickle put his hands around her body and brought her closer to him, the fetid smell from his mouth almost caused her to hurl. Pickle smelled like something died… and maybe something did inside of his mouth.

She could see bits of skin in his teeth and without a doubt in her mind, she knew it was Jack’s. The horrid sight made her body freeze up like ice. She wasn’t sure what to do, she might be eaten right here…

Pickle brought her head close to his nose, a bit of his drool fell from his mouth and onto the skin of her arm. This was it… she was going to die.

And then Pickle sniffed her with a happy hum of contentment. The caveman then buried his nose into her hair and inhaled deeply. She smelled so nice… it wasn’t an overpowering scent but it was delicate. It wasn’t anything Pickle has ever smelled before and he liked it.

Pickle was about to lick her but (your name) shot her arm out to prevent him from being able to touch her more. Her fingers ran through his scalp as she tried to push him back.

A range of excited noises spilled from Pickle’s lips. Did she want to check his hair for bugs? He’d let her!

Pickle put her down and bent down to her level, he cooed at her to continue to pet him. The caveman’s foot bounced each time her small fingers ran through his scalp. This was lovely… he was so happy to have found her.

“It seems Pickle likes her…” Tokugawa muttered to Baki while paramedics took Jack away. “How do we proceed? I don’t know if he’s going to give her back…”

Baki frowned. He hadn’t invited (your name) here to meet Pickle. He wanted her and Jack to work things out… and now he had just made the situation even worse…

“We’ll figure it out.” Baki muttered with a sigh. He really hoped nothing happened to (your name)…

(Your name) noticed how everyone left her to fend for herself with Pickle, but the caveman made no move to release her. It would appear she’d have to be here for awhile…

Pickle growled when she looked away from him a goofy grin on his lips once her attention was fully on him again. He was sure she’d be a good mate. All she needed to do was accept him. He’d protect her from everything.

.

.

.

(Your name) was stuck with Pickle and she had no way of contacting Kaoru to help her out. So she was forced to lay in Pickle’s arms as he rocked her back and forth like a prized possession. Perhaps in his mind, he rightfully won her? She wasn’t sure how Pickle’s mind worked.

She had tried to slip away from him a few times now but he would wail loudly and flail his arms around like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Pickle would not let her leave.

She glanced over to see the familiar figure of Jack begin to approach them in shock. What was he doing here? Shouldn’t he be in the hospital?

She watched Pickle jump up to his feet in shock, the cave man scooped her up in one arm to keep her safe. He had to keep her safe… from the wasp.

Jack made a sound from under his bandage but (your name) couldn’t understand him. His eyes seemed to hold some sort of emotion in them but she didn’t have time to figure out what it was.

Pickle fled from Jack with (your name) held tightly in his arms while Jack gave pursuit.

(Your name) felt like she had another head from how the crowd’s eyes were on her, Pickle, and Jack. Perhaps it was a strange sight to see a prehistoric man that held her in his arm while he ran from a man wrapped in bandages.

Pickle set her down, a loud snarl left his throat as he turned to face Jack. Jack made an incoherent noise, his eyes on her for just a moment.

But his eyes told her exactly what he had tried to say… run. Jack wanted her to run.

Pickle noticed how the two of them looked at each other. The caveman puffed out his chest and growled even louder.

Pickle then sent a punch at Jack that made the blonde spin like a wheel, Jack crashed his head into the ground with a loud smack. The bandages unraveled from his face to reveal the damage.

(Your name) put her hands over her mouth, the tears poured from her eyes. Why was Jack doing this to himself? He was going to die at this rate. She turned her head to look away from the gory sight of Jack’s destroyed face.

She watched as Pickle went to scoop Jack up in his arms, her feet dragged her forward to put her hands on Pickle’s back.

“Please… please don’t.” (Your name) whispered to Pickle who smiled at her. The caveman leaned down and licked her forehead. It was naive of her to believe Pickle could understand her.

She could only watch in horror as Pickle began to scale up the building with Jack in his arm. What was Pickle doing?

(Your name) began to cry even more when Pickle began to tie Jack’s foot to the pole at the top of the building.

With a heavy sigh, she took her chance to run. She didn’t want Jack’s sacrifice to be in vain.

(Your name) ran as fast as she could despite Pickle’s loud wailing. A loud booming noise could be heard as he gave chase to her.

She ran through the crowd to lose her tail. Her heart drummed in her head like a song from a horror movie. She needed to get away from him and fast.

(Your name) dashed down the steps and into the subway. She bolted towards the train, Pickle still hot on her trail.

(Your name) could feel Pickle’s claws snag her jacket and tear it apart but she was able to enter the train at the last second. The doors shut on Pickle, keeping him out.

Pickle whined and wailed while the train sped off, the caveman attempted to chase but the train was too fast. He’s never seen a creature like that from his time but he knew it had eaten his mate… was she okay? It didn’t seem to eat her, but transport her… maybe she’d be in another location?

Pickle cried, his hands held up her jacket to his nose to give it a whiff. A dreamy sigh escaped his lips. Pickle was sure he’d be able to track her down with this.

.

.

.

(Your name) was able to make it home in one piece. The young woman finally able to get back to Kaoru. The yakuza boss answered her call right away.

“I’ll be over as soon as I can. Are you sure you’re alright?” Kaoru asked on the line, his voice filled with concern.

“Just a bit shaken up… and smelly. I feel disgusting.” (Your name) attempted to joke about her experience with Pickle, but Kaoru didn’t laugh. The yakuza was worried Pickle would show up again and hurt her.

“I’ll be there in less than an hour. If you want, you can stay at my place.” From Kaoru’s tone, she knew his brow was furrowed and he was pacing. A smile crawled on her lips at the thought.

“Don’t furrow your brow, you’ll get premature wrinkles.” (Your name) made another attempt to lighten the mood.

“Will you still like me if I’m wrinkly? I’m already scarred.”

“Of course I would, because it’s you.” (Your name) smiled as the two continued to converse.

“I’m happy you’re okay… if Pickle would have done something to you, I don’t know what I’d do…” Kaoru took in a deep breath, the man whispered softly. “I care about you.”

“Do you say all these soft things to all your girls?” (Your name) teased Kaoru for being so soft.

“You’re my only girl so it’s only you.”

(Your name) felt her heart flutter from his words. Kaoru knew what to say to get her flustered.

“I’ll see you soon.” Kaoru muttered. “Don’t answer the door unless you hear three knocks.”

“I won’t, sir.” (Your name) giggled at Kaoru’s huff. “I’ll see you soon, Kaoru.”

(Your name) hung up her phone and made her way to the bathroom for a much needed shower.

A certain caveman sat outside her window, his hands and face pressed up against the glass.

He found her.

[rae-writes]

sneak peek

nb!Barbatos x reader

wc : 0.6k

warnings : nsfw, noncon(?) exhibitionism, voyeurism

synopsis : he knew there was something about you...

Barbatos was forbidden to use his powers unless given permission by Lord Diavolo. 

“a-ah! s’too much!” 

However, what the young master doesn’t know won't hurt him. 

See, there was always something about you that bugged Barbatos. Whether it be the way you miraculously knew how to clean things to his particular satisfaction, or the odd chance you already knew Diavolo didn’t like pickles, or maybe it was the way you were so successful in your job as the brothers’ attendant- knowing how to cater to each of them perfectly- without having met them before hand. 

No matter the case, Barbatos was more curious than he’d ever been, and he thought it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek. 

A peek into the future- into your future- only to witness you centuries down the road with a much older them. 

To witness the closeness you shared with each of the brothers, then with the Angels, and then the lord himself, and especially with him. 

He was so captivated with it, in fact, that he continued to take further peeks into what would become- and what you’d already lived through. 

Barbatos witnessed himself falling for you— it clouded his judgment so much, he kept digging deeper and deeper into the moments you’d shared with him until— 

“Too much? Come now, Mc, don’t tell me you can’t take it anymore? We’ve barely even begun.” 

His cock pressed further inside, gloved hands gripping you tighter before slamming you down over him with ease. The moan you let out was high-pitched, but choked, thanks to his tail wrapping itself around your throat. 

“Barbatos!” 

Present Barbatos had just torn off his own glove with his teeth, using the other hand to yank down his pants with a desperation he doesn’t think he’s ever felt. 

A shudder wracked through him when he took a hold of his cock, fisting it to match how tight you might’ve been; it sent a irritating heat through him- how he couldn’t feel any of it, only watch as his future self got to fuck you. 

“Oh? What a sweet sound…I suppose you’d like me to hit this spot again, then?” A chuckle left him at the whimper you responded with, tail moving to bring your face closer to his, “Pretty human…and all mine.” 

He thinks back to the time his heat had hit and he’d walked right into you on the way to his room. How your eyes darkened and darted downwards before quickly closing as you excused yourself and brushed past him. You must’ve known, then; you must’ve helped him out with it before. 

Just the thought of that makes Barbatos move his hand faster, hips jerking up embarrassingly to meet his frantic movements. His lips had parted in almost inaudible moans, getting a bit louder each time his thumb swiped over the slit of his cock. 

“You are mine, aren’t you? All spread out for me like this, letting me of all demons defile you. Are you going to let me cum inside of you as well?” 

His head hits the wall with a thud, mouth dropping to let out an unrestrained moan, “fuck!” as he tightened his fingers around himself. 

“Y-yes, yes m’yours, please cum inside me, please, please, please— wan’ it Barb, wanna feel it- fuck- I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours!” 

His cock twitched one time, two times, and a third before he was cumming with a strangled groan in the back of his throat. The force Barbatos bit his lip to silence himself made a copper tang flood his mouth and dribble past his chin, but when he looked at the white mess covering his hand (and the floor), it just made the high even better. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, good human, my human, only mine— fuck, Mc, cumming-!” 

Jade hues eyed the way you keened when his future self spilled inside of you, moaning with you when he pulled out and saw it slowly dripping past your hole.

There was something about you, alright. 

Something he wanted to participate in himself.

[junkh3ad]

So…

Im in the mood for some angsty Pickles headcanons. Send me your angsty Pickles headcanons.

Angst is my passion. Angst is my life. Let’s begin…

1. I think, as a young adult Pickles is very self loathing, a cesspool of toxic coping mechanisms combined with his ever present alcohol abuse. He’s rough, he’s wild, he gets into fist fights at bars and stumbles his way around couch surfing or living in punk houses. But on those rare occasions where he’s alone and completely sober, he just lets it all out. He’s trashing the living space he’s in. He’ll hit himself, curse himself for being such a disgrace that his own mother couldn’t find it in her heart to love him. He’s like a tornado ripping through a lonesome home, leaving nothing but splintered wood left behind. And once it’s all over and he’s puffy eyed and dissociative he’s packs his shit, steals what he can from the people he lives with and hitch hikes to a new town to start the cycle all over again.

Early Dethklok days for Pickles is a cycle of partying, self loathing and a less intense rage that mostly is contained to his person. He’s self destructive and Nathan will have to continually restrain the smaller man from hurting himself somehow in his drunken rage fits. It’s always something he’s ashamed of afterwards, avoiding his best friend for days to hide that said shame.

When he’s older a lot of these tendencies stay. He’s not quick to anger anymore but when he gets angry he’s a totally different person. He’s had to be restrained before for sure by klokatiers after someone pissed him off, but usually he’ll calm down shortly after his outburst and apologize. maybe.

Sorry this took so long for me to answer anon, my grandmother passed in october and we also found out my dad needed open heart surgery (which was done today! he’s recovering well) so i haven’t been on Tumblr too often.

[miasmaghoul]

Limelight

Rating: E

Pairing: Aether/Dew

Summary: Aether and Dew see the ghovie (gone sexual). Contains handjobs, semi-public play, teasing, hand kink and quintessence fuckery.

(Also contains mentions of Rite Here Rite Now concert footage ONLY - no spoilers!)

"I feel ridiculous," Dew grumbles, tapping the toe of his boot against the dingy theater carpet. The lobby is bustling, filled with people of all ages in Ghost shirts, face paint and costumes. Dew tugs at his jacket, restless.

"Why?" Aether strokes the back of his hand with his thumb. "I thought you were excited to see the finished product?"

Dew mumbles something as they move up in line, eyeballing the concessions menu. Nearby, a pair of young girls giggle as they take a selfie with their creepy little plush Copias in front of the Rite Here Rite Now poster.

"Looks like you aren't the other one, either," Aether chuckles, elbowing Dew gently. The little ghoul rolls his eyes.

"Just...feels weird," Dew shrugs, grabbing a packet of Sour Patch Kids from the display stand. "Seeing it all...y'know." He gestures vaguely with their joined hands and Aether gives him a nod.

"You're gonna be on the big screen, baby boy," he says with a grin, looping an arm around his shoulders, and Dew frowns in a very stern sort of way.

"Get me these," he grumbles, tossing his candy onto the counter as they step up. "And a blue Icee. Large." Aether chuffs as he pulls out his wallet, rattling off things to the scrawny kid behind the till. "And nachos. With extra jalapeños."

Aether gives him a look.

"How much do you think the infirmary pays me, Dew?"

"Ugh, fine," he says with another exaggerated eye roll. "A medium Icee."

Aether pinches the tendon on the inside of his wrist and Dew kicks him in the shin. Aether shakes his head with a sigh, but he can't hide his smitten grin.

They gather up the pile of snacks - large Icee included - and make their way to the theater. It's a decent space, with reclining seats and extra chilly air conditioning. It's only about half full with five minutes til showtime, but Dew doesn't mind a smaller crowd. Their seats are great, in the back with empites on each side and in front, and Dew crosses his fingers that it stays that way. He sets down his things, shrugs off his jacket and lays it over it lap when he sits.

"How are you not cold?" Aether shivers, sitting on his hands. "It's frigid in here."

"You know I run hot," Dew shrugs, reclining his seat and crossing his ankles as he settles in. He grabs his box of nachos and scoops up a glob of impossibly yellow cheese and pickled jalapeño. "Plus, this way I can use it as a blanket if I want to."

Dew pops the chip into his mouth and demonstrates while he munches, crossing his legs and pulling the jacket up to cover his chest. He makes a tah-dah gesture and Aether smiles, leaning over to swipe a little smear of cheese from his bottom lip.

"Whatever works, I guess," he says, licking his thumb clean. He grimaces. "That tastes like spicy, salty plastic."

"I know, isn't it great?"

Dew uncovers himself and settles in again, stretching his legs and covering his lap. He takes a sip of his Icee and grabs the box again, tucking in while the theater lights start to dim. That same wiggly feeling he'd had in the lobby hits again and Dew sighs, fidgeting with the loose edge of a patch on his jacket.

"This really feels weird," he breathes, and Aether reaches over to hold his hand.

"Relax, Dew," he murmurs, lacing their fingers together. "You're gonna be just fine."

The last thing Dew sees before the lights go down is the glint of Aether's golden tooth, and he struggles to swallow the lump in his throat as the screen flickers to life.

The first time he appears, Aether audibly gasps, and Dew can't explain the way it males him feel. He shoves another chip in his mouth and decides not to think about it.

Twenty minutes and three bouts of brainfreeze later, though, his snacks are gone and Dew finds himself with no further distractions. Seeing himself - well, all of them really, but especially himself - up on that screen is doing things to his insides he can't quite explain. There's a certain level of queasiness in play, though who's to say how much of that is from watching himself play in stunning definition and how much is impending heartburn.

He squirms in his seat and tries very hard not to focus on the mistakes he catches. Tiny things he's sure no one else can see or hear - obviously, judging by the people dancing in their seats - but he sure can. He watches his fingers fly over the frets and wishes he had arched his back a little bit more in that shot. Stupid things he shouldn't give a shit about, and yet can't help but focus on. This is exactly what he was worried about when Aether suggested this outing.

Aether, on the other hand, seems to be struggling for other reasons entirely.

Dew can hear how heavy his breathing has gotten, can feel where his palm has gotten sweaty where their hands are joined. Not from the warmth of connection, but a clamminess that speaks of stress. Dew keeps looking at him from the corner of his eye, every time he hears a huff of breath or a sigh he's sure Aether thinks he's hiding, but the other ghoul's eyes remain locked on the screen. Dew's sure that if he were to lay his head on Aether's chest his heart would be racing. After one particularly harsh sigh Dew finally gives in. He focuses and reaches down the invisible link between their minds, nudging himself up against Aether's consciousness.

You okay, big guy?

Dew squeezes his hand and Aether visibly sags, shoulders slumping and legs falling apart in the reclined seat. Even in the dark, Dew can make out the bulge that movement reveals.

Oh, he slips into Aether's mind, not entirely on purpose, and the other ghoul lets out a quiet groan.

Look at you up there, Dew. Aether's reply carries rich warmth, the kind that soothes the nerves. The tone is worshipful, like Aether's borne witness to something spectacular. Fuck, just look at you.

The screen cuts to a close up of him as if on cue, fingers effortlessly gliding over his strings, and Dew's attention shifts to their joined hands. Aether's stroking his thumb over the most prominent vein on the back of his strumming hand, tracing it with effortless precision. A motion he's done a thousand times over, but one that feels so different with the starved way he's watching the screen.

He doesn't fight it when Aether pulls his hand into his lap, and his eyelids flutter when he feels just how hard Aether's gotten in his jeans. His own cock gives an interested twitch as he rubs at that sizable bulge, feeling it pulse against his palm. He doesn't say a word as he shrugs off Aether's grip, but he does roll his eyes when Aether whines into his head.

Two seconds, he says, scooting as close to Aether as he can in his seat. He pulls his jacket from his lap and lays it over Aether's instead, sneaking that clever hand back under to fondle him again. There, that's better.

Aether's mouth drops open when Dew gives him a squeeze, gripping his armrests so hard they creak. His eyes never leave the screen, though. Not even when Dew's elegant fingers start fiddling with his zipper. Not tugging it down, not yet, just dragging a nail over the teeth and loving the way it makes Aether flinch.

You're really worked up, aren't you?

He can't hide the twinge of surprise the thought carries, a curious inflection pushed into Aether's clearly distracted mind. He knows Aether loves to watch him play - always the one to tag along with him for midnight practice sessions and sunrise acoustic sets whenever sleep eludes him. And every time, no matter how many years pass, Dew would find Aether staring at his hands. Fixated on the control Dew prides himself on, focused on the way his skilled fingers danced over the neck and strummed out the most complex riffs with what looked like no effort at all. Aether would always rub his hands afterwards, massaging in just a hint of quintessence to help relieve hours of soreness.

Dew would reciprocate with a little rubbing of his own, of course. He's nothing if not a gentleman.

Still, though, seeing Aether fall apart so very rapidly over the sight of him on that screen comes as a surprise. He isn't one to show his cards like this, usually able to hold a straight face through damn near anything. Dew knows, he's seen it - Aether remains the only one unfazed by Aeon's puppy eyes, no matter how much the kid tries. That's proof enough of his stoicism.

And yet.

It's different. The words float into his mind, wobbly and unsure. Like Aether's really struggling to form coherent thoughts. It's...it's so much different like this.

They're the last words Aether manages before Dew feels the connection between their minds falter. He's pretty sure that's his own fault, given the way he's started massaging Aether through his ever tightening jeans, but it makes Dew chuckle under his breath. He refocuses on that link as he leans closer, until he can rest his head on Aether's bicep.

I'll take your word for it. Aether throbs against his palm and Dew groans low in his throat. Fuck, you're really hard aren't you?

"Shit," the other ghoul hisses, harsh, and a girl two rows down turns to glare at them. Aether shrinks a bit in his seat, and Dew is absolutely delighted.

None of that, he scolds, popping the button under his fingers. If you can't keep quiet, I'm not gonna be able to help you. Don't you want me to help you?

Dew tugs the zipper down and sees Aether bite his lip hard enough to draw blood when he reaches inside. It's damn near impossible to keep in his own pleasured groan when he finally gets a hand on Aether, finding him stone hard and hot to the touch. He pulls it out, hidden by the jacket, and Aether's head thuds against the back of his seat.

That's what I thought, Dew snickers, and that's all the warning Aether gets before that warm, bony hand starts to stroke.

Dew works him slow, with tight, twisting pulls that make Aether's thighs tremble in seconds. He nuzzles further into Aether's arm while the movie plays on, soaking in his rich cologne and the subtle scent of arousal. There's no urgency in the way he touches Aether, pausing every few downstrokes to get a hand on his balls too. To grope them, weigh them in his palm and really make Aether struggle to keep his eyes open. He manages, but Dew is certain that it's only because of the action on screen. He thumbs over the head and the other ghoul grunts out a curse in ghoulish, a guttural sound that sends a frission of something dark down Dew's spine.

He's too focused on the fine tremors shaking Aether's belly to notice the other ghoul's arm moving, and Dew jolts when a large hand lands heavy on the back of his neck, squeezing. His cock jumps where it sits already chubby and dribbling against his thigh, filling out that much more. He lets a wanton, breathy moan drift into Aether's mind and grins to himself when that hand gets even tighter.

His grin vanishes a second later, when Dew feels a familiar crackle against his skin. He gulps.

U-uh, Aeth -

A sudden rush of quintessence floods his system, pouring into his veins and curling around every last nerve ending. It's like an electric shock of pure pleasure, one that sets his skin on fire and makes his eyes cross, and as his dick pulses hard enough to hurt Dew has no hope of holding in his choked moan.

Thankfully Aether's arm catches most of it, but Dew can't even be bothered to see if anyone else noticed. His hand has gone still on Aether's throbbing cock, pre streaming over his fingers, and he sucks air through his teeth as an aftershock hits. He shudders, pulling back just enough to give his head a useless shake. Anything to clear some of the haze. He looks up at Aether again, and this time he finds the other ghoul staring right at him.

Finish what you started.

It slithers into his head, rough and rasping. Aether's thumb caresses the side of his neck, just shy of his thrumming pulse, and another spark of power shoots through him - one that makes his balls draw up. Dew groans deep in his chest and pushes his face into Aether's arm once more.

That's cheating, he complains, nothing but token protest. Aether's eyes shine even in the dark, sparkling lavender that holds such promise.

Do it and I promise I'll lick you out tonight, Aether rumbles, rocking up into that tight fist, and as the words sink into the folds of his brain Dew whimpers.

He really hopes Aether doesn't hear it.

He doesn't respond, and Aether's attention returns to the screen. His hand still sits on the back of Dew's neck though, holding firm, and Dew wastes no time in picking up where he left off. Aether's stomach visibly clenches when he pauses to rub at the frenulum, and the pulse of want that pounds through him when Aether's forced to bite his knuckles makes Dew's head spin.

He's long since lost track of the movie, occupied entirely with making sure Aether gets everything he needs out of his favorite pair of hands. He doesn't mind - he'll get the highlights later, once he can think with something besides his dick. For now, he dedicates himself to the task at (well, in, really) hand. It only takes a few more practiced twirls of the wrist for Aether's thighs to starts quivering again, and Dew knows he's about to get exactly what he wanted.

Aether curses again, a barely audible grunt, and as his own hands fill the screen once more Dew feels him go even harder.

That's it, he encourages, focusing on the head until Aether's legs go rigid. Let me have it, Aeth, give it all to me.

Aether suddenly turns, burying his face in Dew's hair to muffle his pained groan. Dew relishes every kick of his fat cock as it shoots all over the inside of his jacket, the last of the heavy spurts drooling down his shaft and coating Dew's fingers. The little ghoul works him through it, until he's left spent, sticky and breathless.

"Fuck, Dew," he whispers, barely audible over the pounding music.

Dew hums, pulling back his messy hand and licking it clean while Aether catches his breath. He's still very aware of the hand gripping his neck. It's something of a threat, truth be told - one more pulse of quintessence and he'll be toast. Aether may he able to cum quietly, but Dew? Dew can't keep his mouth shut when it comes to the magickal stuff and they both know it.

Later, if you want, he replies, sneaking his not entirely clean hand between his own legs. Aether's fixated on the screen again already, so he risks giving himself a grope. Rubs at his aching cock through too-tight denim just enough to take some of the edge off. He shivers as a blurt of pre squirts out onto his thigh, and has to stop himself from pushing any further.

He tucks his legs under him and leans into Aether's arm again. The hand on the back of his neck tightens, and for one horrifying moment Dew thinks Aether’s about to make him embarrass himself. Instead, though, Aether moves. Wraps that strong arm around his shoulders and holds him close, and in a lull between songs he leans down to plant a kiss on Dew's temple.

"Told you this would be fun," he murmurs, nosing at the place one of his horns should be. Dew can't help his pleased hum as he leans into it.

"Hate it when you're right," he mumbles, and Aether laughs louder than he probably should. The girl two rows down turns to shush him again and Aether offers her a sheepish wave of apology. They settle in together, leaning against one another while the movie plays on.

If they show you doing your Mummy Dust thing I'm gonna cum again, Aether sends down their link, and Dew doesn't have a name for the noise he makes.

[elspethdekarios]

Places in Waterdeep

According to this reddit comment, Gale’s tower is most likely in the Dock Ward on the corner of Sea Lion and Sail Street. Assuming Gale and Tav spend most of their time in Waterdeep either at home or at Blackstaff (well, depending on what your tav does for a living! I imagine mine works nearby), here are some possible locations for all your fanfic needs. I’m using this map and the descriptions it gives for the locations. This is not an exhaustive list–just the ones I thought might be the most useful to writers.

- Near Gale’s Tower (Dock Ward) -

Taverns and Inns:

The Quaffing Quaggoth

Tavern. A favorite among sailors, merchants, and young nobles, this dwarven owned and operated establishment is known for its own specialty brew – the Quaggoth, a thick house-brewed stout mixed with a shot of a house secret liquor.

The Sailors' Own

Tavern. The place is low-beamed and crowded, with weary sailors slumped on benches playing at board games, cards, or merely getting thoroughly drunk. This place is just what its name implies. It belongs to the sailors, and they don't really want anyone else here. The proprietor is Guthlakh 'Hands' Imyiir. (so, maybe not likely for them to frequent this one, but who knows!)

The Pickled Fisherman

Tavern

The Soaring Pegasus

Tavern

Bard inn

A cozy inn owned by a family of past adventurers, it appears to have been fixed up recently. Most of its visitors are sailors, but it has been known to house meetings between gangs in order to keep the peace. In the basement is a hidden underground fighting ring.

The Angry Coxswain

The tavern contains a one-way portal connecting with a prison cell in the slave market in the Mulhorandi city of Skuld.

The Yawning Portal

Inn. Built in 1306 DR on the ruins of Halaster Blackcloak's old tower, the Yawning Portal gained most of its renown for being the primary open route to the Undermountain. The Portal's innkeeper, Durnan, is a former adventurer of great power and renown.

The Gray Griffon

Tavern

Darth's Dolphyntyde

Tavern

Selune's Smile

Tavern

Azuth's Mug

Tavern

The Rearing Hippocampus

Inn. Probably the classiest inn in Dock Ward. Favored by many caravan masters and merchants who want a good, secure place to sleep, and regular visitors to the city who have business near the harbor.

The Splintered Stair

Inn. The entry hall of this room rises up three floors, overlooked by interior balconies linked by elegantly spiraling stairs.

The Blackstar Inn

This dignified, even haughty inn is like a fortress on the outside, with barred windows, stone walls, and a slate roof. Its lobby has two armed guards, and the four hostlers in the locked stables are also armed. Fees are high, but in return, guests get almost soundproof rooms. Each room has a hip-bath, a double bed, water and wine provided for drinking and various pamphlets and chapbooks provided for light reading. Each room also has its own fireplace, albeit with a miserly supply of firewood, and the patrons tend to keep to themselves. A good place to get a long soundsleep. Asiyra Boldwinter is the proprietress of this inn. Her manner is one of uppercrust, noble dignity.

The Empty Keg

The Empty Keg is a rowdy beer-hall. Later at night, it sees visits from workers from Mother Salinka's next door to reinvigorate business there.

The Red-Eyed Owl

This is the closest thing Waterdeep has to a comfortable, unimpressive, welcoming gathering place for the neighborhood. It is the kind of place where friends will come in and hail each other across the room. The food and drink are pleasant, if unspectacular, and you'll be allowed to sit in peace. It is a rambling old wooden building that looks as if it's about to fall into the street. Balarg 'Twofists' Dathen, a man with long, red hair, owns and runs the tavern.

The Sleepy Sylph

Tavern. Locals in the neighborhood come here for a single drink, to enjoy the music and to watch the waitresses (wearing diaphanous robe), and then go to the Owl, just steps away to eat and drink at about a third the price. The owner is Callanter Rollingshoulder, a tall man dressed in dark silken robes with a magnificent mustache.

The Bloody Fist

Tavern. Bullies and angry people come here to pick fights, and a room upstairs is retained for a succession of novice priests of Tempus who dress broken bones and perform minor healing magics in return for donations to the war god. Members of the Bull Elk Tribe can usually be found drinking here. Proprietor: Uglukh Vorl, a half-orc.

The Sleeping Snake

Tavern. This rowdy place is roughly furnished in hastily mended furniture. Members of the Black Boar Tribe can usually be found drinking here.

Festhalls and Entertainment:

From the Forgotten Realms wiki: “A festhall was an establishment combining the services of brothels, casinos, and private clubs. Festhalls provided a variety of adult-themed leisure activities and entertainment, including sex work, gambling, day spas, dining, exotic dancing, companionship, role-play, and other specialized interests.”

The Mermaid's Arms

Festhall. Elegant dining lounges, in which one dines or just drinks with an attractive host or hostess (or alone). Increasingly, the Arms is being used by single gentlefolk for a night of love. In other words, patrons are going there to meet each other, not to hire a host or hostess for the night. The Arms is large, well-lit, always busy, and can be quite expensive.

The Hanging Lantern

Festhall. The Lantern, an escort service known for the stunning beauty of its workers, and for the skill of its matchmakers, is famous up and down the Sword Coast.

Blushing Nymph

Festhall. The long stair links the oubliette of the Blushing Nymph festhall with Undermountain's first level.

Mother Salinka's House of Pleasures

This is a dingy low-coin festhall owned by halflings and frequented by those who are there for a 'brief visit', or can't afford or are turned away from the Yawning Portal.

Three Pearls Nightclub

Festhall. Pearls, as it is called, is a popular evening destination for Waterdhavians, offering stand-up comics, trained animal acts, illusionists' recitals, bards, orators, and exotic dancing. It has a low ceiling and is usually hot and smoky. The manager, Xandos Waeverym, is known as 'the Dandy'.

Seven Masks Theater

The theater caters to a lower-class clientele, and ship captains and sailors are admitted for free. The owner of the theater is a burly and jovial Shou man with a braided goatee named Rongquan Mystere.

The Purple Palace

Festhall. This is the closest thing Waterdeep has to a Calishite silks-boudoir. Its lavender silk draperies and gauzy hangings are heavily perfumed. Everything is cushions, soft carpets, music, and purple-tinted, spiced wine. Companionship is expensive and very good.

The Smiling Succubus

Festhall. Not exactly the pride of Wharf Street, but one of its most popular destinations.

Businesses and Shopping:

Whistling Blades

Business. Weapons.

The Fishscale Smithy

Adventuring gear

Talnu's Ropeworks

Adventuring gear

The Old Xoblob Shop

This curiosity shop is filled with lots of battle trophies and souvenirs from Undermountain. Worth a look to see the stuffed beholder for which the shop is named. The shopkeeper is a deep gnome.

House of Pride Perfumes

Business. The House of Pride is crammed with a forest of glass bottles of all sizes, shapes, and hues. It is protected by a special enchantment that prevents glass from breaking. The shop is run by two sisters and is guarded by trained hunting dogs.

Khostal Hannass, Fine Nuts

Business. Food.

Felhaur's Fine Fish

Business. Food.

Miscellaneous:

Mirt's Mansion

Villa. Mirt is a friend of Durnan (see The Yawning Portal). Both used magic to extend their lives.

House of Two Hands

Monastery. Order of the Even-Handed.

Harborwatch Tower

City building

The Griffon

The walking statue called the Griffon is shaped like the beast for which it is named. Though it stands on all four legs, its back is fully twenty feet off the ground, making it a mount fit for a storm giant. Although it has shown itself to be capable of flight, with the granite feathers of its wings spreading like a bird's, the Griffon now merely stands in a regal pose near Peaktop Aerie atop Mount Waterdeep, looking to the southeast over the Dock Ward. Newcomers sometimes assume it to be a monument to Waterdeep's Griffon Cavalry, but Waterdavians know better.

Peaktop Aerie

City building

Castle Waterdeep

Thick-walled stronghold that broods over Castle Ward from the flanks of Mount Waterdeep. Pennants and banners are often hung and flown from its battlements to signal the arrival of diplomats or the commencement of ceremonies.

Starry Cradles orphanage

The Starry Cradles orphanage is a Dock Ward orphanage run by Matron Griselda Hoppletun, a halfling care-taker, and funded by the House of the Moon and the Selûnite clergy thereof.

- Near Blackstaff Tower (Castle Ward) -

Taverns and Inns:

Sapphire House

Expensive rooming house on Swords Street. The inn is a five-story building.

Tavern of the Flagon Dragon

Tavern. Three Stories high, stone dragons at the base of the walls are all gouting fire, two dragon helmed guards at the door. Caters more to the less-than-noble class.

The Singing Sword

Tavern. Three floors of busy diners enjoy one of the largest menus in Waterdeep. They are entertained by the high-voiced ballads of the wondrous magical blade for which the tavern is named. Gothmorgan Ilibuld, the proprietor, is a polite host.

Wyrmbones Inn

Inn

The Pampered Traveler

Inn. This inn stands like an exotic castle. There is inside a library filled with books and a reading table with a glass top, under which can be seen a map of the known Realms as far west as the Moonshaes, as far east as Thay, and as far south as the Shaar. All in all, a quietly luxurious place to stay. This is undoubtedly the wealthy scholar's choice of hostel. The inn is run by Brathan Zilmer, guildmaster of the Fellowship of Innkeepers.

Dauntlyn's Doors

Luxury Inn

The Elfstone Tavern

Tavern. This old, dimly lit tavern caters to elves. By night, dancing lights spells bathe the place in soft, floating, blue motes of light. Gentle harp, pipe, flute, and choral music is performed and service is fast and graceful. Dwarves and half-orcs will be driven away; humans and halflings are tolerated in small parties; half-elves are just accepted. Yaereene Ilbaereth is the tavern's proprietress.

The Blue Jack

Tavern. The tavern specializes in low prices and fast service, and it's a success. Immithar the Glove, the tavern's proprietor, is quick with a joke or to mimic the speech of other.

The Jade Jug

Inn. Waterdeep's plushest inn. Guests are attended by a personal servant for the duration of their stay and their every need is attended to. The charming, beautiful, one-armed hostess is Amaratha Ruendarr. She notices every detail.

The Dragon's Head Tavern

Tavern. This modest place is aimed at those who like to sit quietly and chat over their drinks. The proprietor is Vorn Laskadarr.

The Asp's Strike

Tavern

Festhalls and Entertainment:

Jhural's Dance

Festhall

Silavene's

Festhall

The Smiling Siren

Festhall. Nightclub & Theater. Home to a company of popular local actors who can perform everything from rowdy comedy to high tragedy. Nobles often hire the place for an evening for exclusive performances. The Siren is also home to traveling troupes of vaudeville jugglers, comedians, and nearly nude dancers or burlesque dancers. Before and between performances, the place is used for drinking and dancing to live music, sometimes with show dancers on the stage. The mage Perendel Wintamer runs this nightclub.

Lightsinger Theater

Business. Entertainers.

Mother Tathlorn's House of Pleasure

Festhall. Entertainers. The most famous house of pleasure in Waterdeep is a large, five-floored building with two additional levels of dungeons below ground. Mother Tathlorn's has on staff several priests of Sune. The most popular service performed at Mother Tathlorn's is massage and bathing, but all of this luxury and pleasure doesn't come cheaply.

Businesses and Shopping:

The Market

Open marketplace. Largest open space in the city surrounded by stone buildings that enclose the maze of temporary stalls and carts that appear here day and night.

Blackwell's Fine Books and Good Tomes

Blackwell's Fine Books and Good Tomes is a posh retail shop, located in the shadow of the God Catcher statue. Owned and operated by the Blackwell family, Blackwell's Fine Books and Good Tomes specializes in rare and antique manuscripts. The shop is especially known, among the noble set, for its restoration, document preservation, as well as transcription services. Mr Blackwell's son, Aldous, has been known to keep an eye on any ancient texts which spend time in the family's shoppe.

The Bookstore occupies the bottom of a three story building. The upper two stories are the Blackwell's lavish townhome apartment.

Paethier's Pipeweed

Business

Eilean's Maztican Delights

Business

Sharkroar - Harth Shalark's Broadsheets

Business

Sorynth's Silverware

Business

The Curious Past

Business is run by Bronwyn Caradoon, dealing in exotic items while also being a front for Harper Activity.

Diloontier's Apothecary

Assassins. Drugs. Poisons. Potions. Now renamed to 'Diloontier's & Sons Apothecary'.

This upscale store catered to the elite of Waterdhavian society. Those who had the right credentials and money for it could quietly purchase poisons and more nefarious potions from the proprietor.

Balthorr's Rare & Wondrous Treasures

Business. Magic items. Balthorr 'the Bold' Olaskos will fence stolen items for 40% market value.

Old Knot Shop

Adventuring gear

Rebeleigh's Elegant Headwear

Business. Clothing.

Halls of Hilmer, Master Armorer

Armor. Hilmer, a tall, strong, and soft-spoken man, with shoulders as wide as most doors, only makes plate, but he's known as the best, or among the best, in all the Sword Coast lands. He's a master craftsman.

Halambar Lutes & Harps

Business. Entertainers. This shop sells all sorts of stringed musical instruments. Kriios Halambar, guildmaster of the Council of Musicians, Instrument-Makers, and Choristers owns and runs this shop.

The Golden Key Locksmiths

Business. The proprietor, Ansilver, makes custom locks to order, and guarantees that he's never sold a key that will open the lock you buy from him to anyone else.

Phalantar's Philtres & Components

Business. Drugs. Poisons. Potions. Here you can buy medicines, herbs, and rare substances used in the making of perfumes, scented oils, poisons, and as material components in the casting of spells. Phalantar Orivan will fence stolen goods for 40% market value. He is said to be fabulously rich.

Olmhazan's Jewels

Business. All the gems one can think of, except very rare or magical sorts. Jhauntar Olmhazan, Gentleman Speaker for the Jewelers' Guild, owns and runs this shop.

Temples:

Font of Knowledge

Temple of Oghma. Largest public library in the city.

Halls of Justice

Temple of Tyr. Holy Order of the Knights of Samular.

Spires of the Morning

Temple of Lathander. Order of the Aster.

Temple of the Seldarine

Temple of all elven deities.

Miscellaneous:

Melody Mount Walk

A magically lit tunnel that runs west up to the cliffs on which the New Olamn barding college is situated. The tunnel contains a little-known portal between Waterdeep and the keep in Rassalantar. The tunnel continuously resounds with music due to an ongoing concert known as the Neverending String of Pearls that is performed by bardic students from New Olamn in a small alcove in the tunnel.

Syndra Wands' Tower

Wizard's domicile.

The Lady Dreaming

One of the eight enormous statues called the Walking Statues of Waterdeep, scattered throughout Waterdeep to defend the city in times of great peril. This statue has the appearance of a titanic sculpture of a noble lady asleep in her garden.

The Great Drunkard

One of the eight enormous statues called the Walking Statues of Waterdeep, scattered throughout Waterdeep to defend the city in times of great peril. The unconscious pose of the statue and the tavern in its lap made the name of the Great Drunkard a natural fit.

Duir's Alley

This busy, winding passage is often the scene of spell demonstrations and practice, as patrons or staff spill out of the rear of the Elfstone Tavern and unleash magic down the alley.

Cat Alley

Recently, a masked, rapier-wielding, quietly chuckling assailant has made this a dangerous place for women after dark.

The God Catcher

One of the eight enormous statues called the Walking Statues of Waterdeep, scattered throughout Waterdeep to defend the city in times of great peril. This is perhaps the most famous walking statue in the city, thanks to its dramatic pose : a well-muscled but impassive male human with a sphere of stone floating above its right hand raised skyward.

Piergeiron's Palace

White marble Palace and main office location for many city officials, the majority of which are dedicated to the administration of city services, such as the Watch, the Guard, city clerks, and the Loyal Order of Street Laborers. The ruler of the city - the Open Lord of Waterdeep - resides and works here.

Tower of the Order

Guildhall. Magic items. Scrolls. Watchful Order of Magists & Protectors.

House of the Fine Carvers

Guildhall. Guild of Fine Carvers.

The Map House

Guildhall. Surveyors', Map & Chart-makers' Guild.

[luveline]

more girl dad! hotch plsssss 😫😫😩😩😩

hotch navigates his small family ♡ mom!reader, 1k

Hotch speaks with a softness you could spin into silk. "That's okay, sweetheart. You fill this one out for me next." 

You peer through the small gap in the door. Hotch is sitting behind his desk with a case file open in front of him, though you assume any photographs are sequestered away, because in his lap sits a small girl, a toddler with dark, neat hair and a matching frown. 

"This one next," she says, picking up her crayon. 

"That one next. Good job, I'll be finished in no time with you helping me." 

"And we can have… uhm…" 

"Rusks?" 

"Yes, please." 

Hotch leans down to kiss his daughter's small head gently. "You're so polite. How about we leave all this grown up work and get you a rusk now?"

She turns on his leg to slouch into his stomach. Hotch picks her up, the sleeves of his shirt tightening at his biceps as he wraps them behind her back and under her butt, pushing the office chair aside with a careful leg. 

He sees you in the doorway and smiles. 

"Hi, Mr. Hotchner," you say. 

"Hi, mommy," he says, directing Jane's little body your way so she can see you where you're standing outside of his home office. "What are you doing?" 

"Just coming to check on you both. And I need help with something." 

You've stopped expecting him to pass you whatever kid it is he's carrying anymore. When Aaron is home, he's home, and he's dearly attached to his young daughter. He'd be attached to Jack if he weren't constantly out in the backyard looking for toads. He kisses your cheek, careful not to squish Jane between you. "What do you need help with?" 

"I can't get the lid off of the pickles and I promised Jack I'd get him the biggest one." 

"Why are our children so hungry?" he asks, putting his hand behind your shoulder as you walk down the stairs together. "Could it be because they both refuse to eat their breakfast, even when mommy says you'll regret it?" 

"Breakfast?" Jane asks, blinking owlishly. 

You smile at her. "No, sweetheart. Let's have rusks and milk, should we? With honey. Dad's gonna make it just the way you like it." 

Jack is back in the house tracking mud footprints over every inch of the kitchen. Only then does Aaron pass you Jane. She's light and easy to hold, she doesn't wriggle or gripe. Despite her resting frown, she's a happy girl who's content to be passed from person to person. "Daddy?" she asks. 

"Two seconds." Jack stands guiltily by the fridge, looking down at his shoes and then up at the ceiling, like looking away will get rid of the mess. "Jack, we've talked about this. You can play in the yard when it's wet if you take your shoes off before you come in."

"Well, I thought my shoes would be more dry," Jack says. 

"You can't leave water everywhere. What if Y/N slipped while she was carrying your sister? Then they'd both be hurt." 

"I guess," Jack says. 

"We're gonna have to mop it up. You can help me, buddy. You remember where we put the mop bucket?" 

You prop Jane on the island by the sink basin. She immediately puts her hand under the faucet, fascinated by the automatic water. "Wow, lots of fuss," you say. 

Aaron helps Jack take off his messy shoes and puts the mop bucket into the basin with a heap of praise for Jane's assistance, such a good helper. He lifts Jack up to squirt cleaner into the water. He's still laughing when he sets him down. 

"Rusks, dad?" Jane asks. 

Aaron almost barrels you over trying to hold her, lifting her back into his arms to kiss her soft cheek. "I am, I promise." He gives you a pleading look. "Honey–" 

"Yeah, okay. I never do the mopping, anyways. Me and Jack will learn together." 

You can hear him drowning Jane in love and sweetness as you and Jack get to work. "It's like this, babe, we push the mop head into the drain so we can soak up all the muddy water, then rinse and repeat." You drop your voice to a whisper, hands slack on the handle. "Don't worry, I'll do all the hard work." 

"Can we still have pickles?" Jack asks. 

"Of course we can. Dad's not mad, he just doesn't like the mess. Quicker we clean up, the sooner we can have a snack. You're not super hungry, are you?" 

"I'm starving." 

You put the mop back in the bucket, looking Jack up and down. He looks like he could use some proper warming after his time outside in the late September cold, pale cheeks rosy and his nose kissed with chill. 

"Aaron? Me and Jack have to pause the mopping, we're hungry." 

"Pretend I believe you and sit down. I'll make you something." 

"We really are hungry, dad." 

Jack takes your hand and pulls you toward the kitchen table. It's an organised chaos, your work things, Aaron's coat, Jack's science project. Underneath it lays a carpet of baby toys and Jane's washables; she plays under the table often to be close to her dad when he's working and you're cooking, or he's cooking and you're reading. 

You put him in a seat next to the highchair where Jane spoons warm rusk-mush into her mouth hurriedly. Aaron has secured a baby pink bib around her neck with a safety pin and filled her little sippy cup with watered down orange juice. She looks as happy as you've ever seen her as she misses her own mouth. 

You fill Aaron's seat as he vacates it to watch her. You and Aaron are good at filling each other's gaps, parenthood akin to the world's most loving game of musical chairs, and you're just as good at being together, you'd say —he squeezes your shoulders as he leans down. "For the record, you know how to mop. I just don't see why you should." 

"That's the right idea," you say happily, laughing as he kisses your cheek. 

[softmick]

autistic mickey thoughts i’m chewing on:

hyposensitive bby mickey walking into things, stomping around, wrestling with his brothers - things he never grows out of.

he loves to shoulder check people. he loves wearing heavy boots and his heels slamming into the ground. he loves the deep pressure and slamming of bodies. fighting is fun! he’s not even that mad like that, it just makes him feel right somehow.

hyposensitive bby mickey infuriating terry because he doesn’t react to pain like the other kids. it takes a lot to make him cry, physically anyway, and maybe it scares terry at first… to go so far. but then it’s a challenge. and maybe this is just another little reason mickey downplays what happens to him. because it doesn’t really hurt that bad.

little hyposensitive mickey falling asleep to screaming, neighbors partying, gunshots, flashing lights who grows up and needs a weighted blanket and ian and the pressure of the wall at his back and white noise and flickering light to sleep on the west side.

lil mickey who hates vegetables because they all come from a can (soft) or the freezer (squeaky). and ian who realizes mickey loves pickles and gets onions on his sandwiches and has a little lightbulb moment and just gives mickey a raw carrot. and it turns out he does like vegetables and then he snacks like a rabbit for a while because CRUNCH

mickey who has lackluster sexual experiences before/outside of ian because the girls he’s with are young (like him) and kind of passive. or he hooks up with guys and does his best not to touch too much and decides it’s just kind of blah. but then he and ian fight and fuck and it just lights up his world. because he needs a LOT of sensory input. and ian is willing to put in work!!

lil dirty mickey hating lukewarm/cold water and the weird way his clothes smell like nothing with their shitty (nonexistent?) laundry detergent but loving scalding hot water and strong perfumed soaps and fabric softener. mickey who isn’t crazy about baths but loves a hot tub/jetted tub.

mickey being much more accommodating/open to new things when he can bring his headphones and blast music into his ears. yoga? sure, but only if he can listen to his music.

mickey who very reluctantly agrees to stop shooting without ear protection. but only if there’s more recoil.

mickey loving color and obnoxious patterns because he is sensory seeking babey

mickey and ian having a code word or phrase for when mickey is crawling out of his skin that he uses right before tackling ian.

the gallaghers learning that if they want to show mickey affection it’s better to grip his shoulder or his arm tight than try for some light one armed hug shit. except for debbie who doesn’t give up hugging and just tries to her best to crush him.

idk man. just mickey okay? i love him

[baiwu-jinji]

TGCF author's notes translation

@/camilikha on twitter kindly provided links to TGCF author's notes and I translated the ones I find informative and interesting. See translations below:

chapter 58 notes: The second book is all about the overconfident Xie Lian with delusions of grandeur and the tender little flower (mxtx means kid Hua Cheng) and their diaries of the downfall of Xianle. Word count is undecided, I'm never accurate at estimating word counts anyway. It's just like the xianxia I write doesn't fit into your regular xianxia, the royalty I write doesn't fit into your regular fictional depictions of royalty - just the outlandish made-up worlds and social customs in the author's imagination...

chapter 60 notes: If we put Qi Rong in a modern context, we could say that he has bipolar disorder.

chapter 72 notes: about the chapter title "To Meet You in the Mortal Realm; to Find Flowers Beneath the Rain" - eventually I feel that "To Meet You" is more romantic than "To Meet Someone". Just think about it, "meeting you" is one of the most romantic things in the world.

chapte 80 notes: Of course (HC) won't give (XL) a handjob or help him [...], but Huahua's sexual awakening starts with this incident... (XL is seriously obssessed with martial arts combat!)

chapter 88 notes: Xie Lian never gets tanned, I envy him... I finally reached this place - in a dilapidated temple, a god about to be forgotten and a believer who's still young - this is the first mental image I have about this story, which drove me to wrote the story. I'm the kind of person who'd make up a whole book just to get to write a certain passage...

chapter 119 notes: Actually Huahua is just being naughty and wants to joke around playing dead, who'd have thought...

chapter 123 notes: So Black Water made his appearance long ago, he's been hanging around before your eyes all along. Wind Master never knew the real Mingyi, it's always been the same person before him - and before you readers. (Black Water) officially recognized as Best Actor of this story! I've been holding it a secret for so long and so has he, now I can finally let it out.

chapter 141 notes: If you heat up Huahua in the kiln, he'll grow bigger~

chapter 175 notes: "Hua Cheng! Your diary! We've read it all!!!"

chapter 229 notes: Huahua low-key sucking up to the elderly to make a good impression

chapter 242 notes: Why do you like to spook yourselves? - why on earth would there be such plots as (XL) waiting for another 800 years - too long, impossible! Happy ending is around the corner!

SVSSS is my first work so it has some exceptions that I won't discuss here, but MDZS and TGCF both only have one main couple. I said this repeatedly in the author's notes when MDZS was being serialized and in other places. As for Mo Xuanyu, he is a little gay dude but he died at the beginning of the story so he doesn't count as a serious character...It's fine to have headcanons you like as long as you don't seperate the main couple. But for me personally, my taste leans towards having only one gay couple in the story, and I have no plans to write about another secondary couple. I'm stating this to avoid some unnecessary disputes.

XL is good at making pickled vegetables. Because pickled vegetables are needed with steamed bun and rice porridge, so XL became quite experienced after practicing for hundreds of years. Also you can just leave the pickled vegetable by itself most of the time and let it undergo chemical reaction. XL mostly fail because he get inventive.

XL and Mu Qing chose the same path of cultivation and are both Daoists. But Feng Xin never studied under a master at the Holy Royal Pavillion so he's not a Daoist and simply a plebeian martial god, so he doesn't need to observe the celibacy rules like XL and Mu Qing.

My passion for inventing new dishes (or rather weapons) cooked by Xie Lian is only slightly less than my passion for making Huahua change into new clothes

Huahua often turn into human forms, in which he has two eyes, so you guys can stop counting the number of his eyes.

In the setting of this story, if you want to be a god,you need to be a human hero first, which means you need to be the best of the best among humans. Only heaven officials who ascended are real heaven officials and belong in the Upper Court. How do you ascend? Firstly it depends on your personal ability, you have to be outstanding in some aspect (such as martial arts or literary talents) to enter the path of ascension. Secondly it depends on luck, if you're extremely lucky and a favourite of fate, and just picked up some rare secret guides (to ascension) or immortal pills by the roadside, that works too. Officials in the Middle Court are appointed, which means someone in the Heavenly Realm could promote you to that position. But Middle Court officials have the opportunity to become a bona fide Upper Court official too if they're capable enough.

Black Water indeed owes Hua Cheng a huge sum of money and is a very impoverished Calamity, seriously lowering the income standard of the Calamities (although there're only three of them). But his debt isn't completely due to eating too much. As for the money Black Water owes, it's an ancient debt - 40% is the cost of buying gifts for heaven officials of Upper Court and planting agents there (bribery!), 30% is maintenance fee for his territory and expenses on pet food, the rest 30% is food (for himself).

Talismans are probably the equivalent of the business cards (of heaven officials)... "Hello this is my consecrated talisman" = "hello this is my business card"

You can't get rid of ghostly essence (which XL is tainted with because he spends too much time with HC) simply by brushing your teeth with plain water...you need to use consecrated spell water (which is super bitter and weird).

The weapon forged by a heaven official is called fabao (literally "dharma treasure"); if it's a weapon forged by mortal Daoists and monks, it's called faqi (literally "dharma tool") - only after their ascension can their weapons be called fabao.

In my imagination, Xianle ia the kind of small ancient kingdom that's overall culturally Han, but has peculiar customs...although I feel like what I wrote on Xianle is mostly just peculiar hahahaha [facepalm] [beat myself up]

Not only are the forms, customs, cultures, and politics of countries in this story made-up, the kind of arcane stuff like occult sciences and philosophical values are all made-up. Although I did research but the records I consulted are too difficult to understand, so I just made things up on my own. Please bear with me If you're knowledgable in this sort of thing hahaha.

Puqi refers to water chestnut.

Look up "Blood-Soaked Fire Social" (xue she huo) if you're interested, it exists in real life and is very thrilling. What I wrote is different from the traditional festival, there're some made-up elements to make it more exciting