#‘men thought they could fuck me when i used my birth name so now i use my guerilla codename of a bird of prey’ milvaaaaaaaa

[hanzajesthanza]

characters in the witcher: *don’t fit into their prescribed social categories and canonical archetypes, subvert all expectations, and then have to deal with the emotional pain and loneliness that comes from that ostracization, of not fitting in, and of being treated like freaks of nature*

people: *surprised that LGBT readers like this series*

[dipperscavern]

reading the father cregan most has made me feel things ?? my womb is empty ?? and waiting for cregan ??

ALSO KISSES i will always read your tags. they are the favorite parts of my day, in addition to when you post. notifications stay ON.

climbing up the walls with more thoughts of father cregan 🤠 (gods be fucking good, this does sound like a convent. hi sisters!) 🛐

i digress. as we have well established, cregan is a lovely father. he's patient. he's a leader. and he's got that stark loyalty and determination to protect what he loves. which is you and your little pups. (ur so right. he only refers to them as pups.)

i imagine that when your water breaks, you are squeezing this man's hand to the point of bone breakage. pleading with him not to leave. so when the maesters come in and settle you, they look at cregan, expecting him to leave the room - per tradition. one of them, maybe the youngest, starts speaking. "lord stark-" and cregan shuts that shit DOWN ☝️ "your lady stark does not wish it." and everyone knows to shut up and listen when it comes to lord and lady stark.

he is absolutely the type of lad to pick your kids pups up as they climb all over him. once in a post, you described his back as burly enough to sled on and your kids are determined to test that. HELP CAN we actually picture cregan's velocity sliding down a hill like 😐 while his kids are giggling, sliding on his back. hi! hello!

he tells your kids stories of the north in that rugged god-sent accent as he tucks them in for bed. will probably sneak out with them in the night to go get lemoncakes from the kitchen. he gives them cute little fur cloaks to wear, with the house stark embroidery. THIS IS SO CUTE I AM GOING TO SOB

holds them during his meetings. could literally be planning to go to battle or smth, and one of his kids comes in. he just puts them on his lap before continuing with battle strategy. he was just meant to be a dad. he's so giddy about it. so in love with you, and grateful that you gave him this. you gave him chubby little pups running around the castle, hands up in the air reaching for you both. he just wants more :((( crawling at your feet, in your arms, and more in your belly.

i fear i'm going to crash out if i continue. (will definitely be continuing with more asks later. ✊️)

-🔄❄️

REVERSE ELSA ANON HERE TO GRACE US ALL AGAIN !!! yes pls continue later arF ARF ARR ARF

u read my tags….. stop ily. notifications on too i am truly honored. ANYWAYS… SISTERS SISTERS GATHER ROUND. GATHER ROUND FOR FATHER CREGAN

you are so right btw. because when your water breaks, that’s when it all becomes real to you. yes, you want this babe out, but birth is a scary, painful thing. hearing the stories of men choosing to save the babe instead of the mother (i glance to viserys), or of men being done with their wives after they do their duty has only heightened your worry in having to go through it. cregan would never do that to you, you know this, but the thought is a scary one, and it lingers nonetheless. it doesn’t help that the rational side of your brain isn’t in charge right now. you’re afraid.

so when cregan goes to leave and fetch the maesters, you, not usually one to make demands — find yourself almost yelling one.

you both stand rooted to your spots, looking at the fluid on the floor. he was trying to help you into bed, but apparently your pup had other plans. you’re momentarily paused, cregans arm around your waist, hand enclosed in yours while facing the bed. shock hangs in the air as both you realize what this implies. he moves to remove himself from you.

“I will fetch the—“

“No!”

your tone of voice stops cregan in his tracks. has his brows pinching not in their usual hardness, but concern. he had hardly begun to turn away before you reached for him. he tilts his head to look at you, your own dropped down, gaze fixed on the floor. you look at him, a mix of so many emotions on your face cregan could not begin to name them all. you have a hand over your stomach, the other firmly clasped over his arm.

“Do not go. Please, Cregan. I’m afraid.” he’s never heard you like this before. fearful. you mistake his worry for refusal.

“Please— I ask this of you—“

“You need only ask once.” he reassures.

you sigh, relief flooding your veins at cregan heeding your request. it’s tradition for the husband to remain outside of the birth room, but you’re not sure you can do it without him. cregan only pulls you closer, shouting the name of your sworn sword that has been made to accompany you everywhere since the late terms of your pregnancy. the knights response is instant, opening the door with a hand on the hilt of his sword.

“My Lord.”

“Fetch the maesters, Ser. The babe is coming.”

the knight only hesitates with shock, before bowing with the ghost of a smile on his face and running to do as commanded. the entire castle has been waiting on your pups arrival, you both included.

eventually, the maesters arrive — and in tow with them, an army of midwives and your usual ladies in waiting. cregan stands at the foot of the bed, far enough to be out of the way, but close enough to be at your beck and call. they’re attentive, maesters setting up their various herbs & medicines as your ladies in waiting prepare the room itself, your midwives attuned to your every move.

one of the youngest maesters, new in his craft, looks at cregans unwavering form with hesitation. he swallows, and begins to speak before one of the elder maesters can stop him.

“My Lord, it is tradition—“

“Your Lady Stark does not wish it,” he says, looking at the young maester. “So it shall not be.”

the man only nods, returning to his work with his head low. the other people in the room, who have served under cregan for years, know when lord & lady stark come out to quiet themselves & get to work.

the labor is long, and the birth difficult, but cregan is there every step of the way. eventually, hours upon hours later, your pup enters the world — kicking and screaming.

“A boy, Lord Stark!”

cregans heart skips a beat. a boy. an heir.

before you know it you have three. two boys, and one girl. cregan melts into the father role like he was made for it, and every time you get the gift of watching him interact with your kids, you get more and more convinced it is so.

watching them hang off his back, giggles falling from their lips, stretched in a wide smile as his much larger arms come to support under their legs. the view of it from behind makes you laugh, each & every time. cregans back almost swallows your kids whole, their tiny frames dwarfed in comparison. even so, he handles them with a gentleness most wouldn’t expect from the wolf of the north. alike to how you might handle a butterfly landing on your fingertip, or the delicacy used to handle newborn foals.

cregan verses them in the culture of the north, along with its stories. tales of vampire direwolves, the old gods & weirwood trees, and the stories cregan himself was told as a child. he’s careful to not scare them too much, but sometimes, other people can get carried away. a guard or one of the men on his council letting a frightening tale about the others slip, resulting in them asking to sleep with you and cregan for the night. of course, you oblige every time, generous in your reassurances that the others are no match for Ice — or for their father.

your daughter has him wrapped around her finger. pleas of staying up just a little longer, or riding just down that trail are almost always obliged. he can’t help it, when she looks up at him with those big pleading eyes of hers — the ones that are akin to yours. asking him sweetly if they could please check for any leftover lemon cakes. it’s late, she should be asleep, but cregan can’t help himself. opening the door in a way so it won’t creak, hushing her giggles and buying the cooks silence as they get a late night snack.

and yeah, when one of his pups stumble into the council meeting, he doesn’t turn them away. he picks them up to slot them on his lap, and the stern look on his face is all they need to see to know to be quiet if they want to stay. he could be planning anything — from a hunt, to going to the winter town himself to take care of a group of men intent on causing havoc. it could lead to bloodshed, but your kids don’t seem to hear that part, just content being with their father.

cregan wouldn’t trade this life for anything. he loves his pups, and he’s so in love with you. passing by each other during the day, and cregan always stops you, pulling you to him to slot his lips against yours — no matter how busy he is. he can’t help it, you’re just so lovely, and you’ve given him so much. he thinks of you every time he looks at your pups, and he feels his heart skip a beat in his chest. seeing your pups throw snowballs at each other, and he can’t resist, pulling you close & bending to connect your lips with his. you melt into him every time.

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 1

Surprise!!! I have six chapters of this and really need to start getting it out, so I figured with Act 1 ending last week and my backlog on this and Of Butterflies and Backstrokes (Olympic Swimmer) being so low thanks to me trying to the Halloween themed sequel to Icarus (Metal Band) that I would put this out until I build that back up and lower the amount of backlog this one has.

Summary: Eddie Munson is a in bind, set to go on a three month reunion tour, he is in need of nanny for his twin girls Janice and Joan since his partner, Ethan blew up their lives a year ago. Enter nanny extraordinaire, Steve Harrington. Both men struggle with treading the line between boss/nanny and their strong attraction to each other. Will Eddie learn to trust again? Will Steve realize that he was always meant to be right there by Eddie's side?

~

Eddie hung up the phone with a sigh. He wanted to do the tour, because of course he did. But he also had two very rambunctious little girls now. Eddie was a good dad, but he wasn’t the nurturing kind the way Ethan was. But sometime in the last year, Ethan had changed.

He had grown distant and cold, going as far as yelling at the girls which he never used to do. So Eddie quit producing music to give Ethan some much needed time for himself. Fat lot of good that did.

Because apparently Ethan was banging...well, just about everyone but Eddie’s friends. The pool boy, the guy who delivered their food, the cleaning lady, their personal trainer, hell even the barely legal dog walker got more of his husband’s dick than Eddie did.

Which he didn’t find out, by the way. Ethan had told him after handing him divorce papers and legally renouncing parental rights to Joan and Janice. He threw it in Eddie’s face the numerous affairs he had. The one thing he wouldn’t tell him was why.

Why was Ethan so unhappy when Eddie had done everything right?

He buried his head in hands. Janice and Joan were only four and they had been adopted at birth. They never met the mother and were only told that she didn’t want them and never wanted to see them ever again.

So how could Ethan look at those two little angels and decide the same?

Eddie was heartbroken and not ready to move on. So he had agreed to the tour as a way to cope with the sudden explosion of his life. His friends knew Ethan had left, but they didn’t know the extent of his ex’s destruction.

He thought about taking the girls with him, but they were too little. They wouldn’t have fun and would be more terrified then thrilled. So live-in nanny it was.

Thankfully he had a month to find someone who would cook and clean and watch the girls. Especially after having to fire all of his help in the wake of Ethan’s destruction.

He had this.

~

Eddie did not in fact have this. He only had three more days until he left and he was at his wit’s end. He had rejected candidate after candidate for a myriad of reasons. One only wanted part-time despite the ad before a live in nanny. Another said she was strict disciplinarian and thought spanking was the only way to teach a child. And even another just gave off weird vibes.

So he called the agency one more time.

“You’ve gone through all of our female nannies,” the woman huffed on the other end of the line. “We only have male nannies left, surly you don’t–”

“Just send the best male nanny you’ve got!” Eddie barked. “I don’t care about gender for fuck’s sake.”

“I’m not sure–” the woman protested but Eddie hung up on her.

He didn’t have time to listen to whatever excuse she was going to come up with. He was running out of time before the tour and needed someone. Anyone.

He got a call back five minutes later from another woman telling him that they would be sending over their best male nanny at 2pm if that was acceptable.

He sighed with relief. “Yes, that will be perfect. The girls will be down for their nap then.”

“That’s wonderful, Mr. Munson,” she said cheerfully. “The gentleman we are sending over, his name is Steve Harrington, and I sincerely hope he will be a good fit for you.”

“You and me both,” Eddie sighed again. “You and me both.”

~

When Steve got to the house, he would have liked to have said that he wasn’t impressed because he had seen dozens of large houses and even larger sprawling mansions in his time as a full time nanny, but he was. Very much so.

It wasn’t a gaudy modern monstrosity for starters. It liked a Victorian era manor that had been modernized for living in today. It gave off a spooky vibe, but in a fun way and not a horror movie way. Like the Addams family or the Munsters kind of vibe.

He really dug it.

He went up and knocked on the door. It swung open almost immediately to reveal a pretty, petite woman with sparkling green eyes and strawberry blonde hair. She had a sweet smile.

He knew this wasn’t the mother, the file said that it was a single father of twin girls. A rockstar of some sort, though Steve didn’t recognize the name. This must be some kind of servant or PA or something.

“Hi, I’m Steven Harrington,” he greeted putting out his hand for her to shake. “I have a two o’clock appointment with Eddie Munson about the nanny position.”

Her smile widened, dimpling her cheeks. “Hi, I’m Chrissy Cunningham, I’m Corroded Coffin’s manager. Come on in, he’s waiting for you.”

Steve followed her through the house. It was just as impressive as the outside. It was beautifully decorated in dark browns, reds, and black. God, he hoped he got the job. He could really see himself living here.

She opened the door to the office allowed him to walk through, closing it behind him. Which normally wouldn’t have been a problem for Steve but now he was in a room with the hottest guy he had ever seen in his life and he really didn’t need an erection at a job interview.

Eddie looked up, and yup. Steve was done for. He had the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen outside of a Disney cartoon.

“Mr. Munson?” he said, reaching out for a handshake, mustering up every ounce of professionalism he had. “Steven Harrington, how do you do? You can call me Steve.”

Eddie grinned back. “Hey, Steve. Thanks for coming at such a short notice. I understand you’ve been brought up to speed on everything I’ll be needed you to do?”

Steve crossed his legs and put his hands on his lap. Shit, even his voice was sexy as fuck.

“Yes, I’ll be watching the children twenty-four/seven,” Steve recited dutifully, “with doing all of the cooking and some of the cleaning.”

“That’s right,” Eddie said. “That normally wouldn’t be the case, but I’ve had to recently fire all of my staff. In fact, if you are hired on, you’ll be working with Chrissy over the next couple of months to help bring staff back on. I would be putting a lot of trust in you not to fuck me over.”

Steve nodded. It was a bit like Robin’s period dramas. He would be running the household while Eddie was away.

“Wouldn’t Chrissy be needed on tour with you?” he asked, not sure what her role actually was.

Eddie shook his head. “She usually does, but I need her here to help to get this house running again. It was hard enough trying to explain to the girls why everyone had to leave. Especially their other dad. She just has her own place and a very demanding job. And the other people I trust with my kids are going on tour with me, so...”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Steve said huffing out a chuckle. “I’m willing and able to take the job. There is just one more thing we have to do first.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “I don’t think I offered you the job yet.”

Steve burst out laughing. “No, I don’t suppose you did. But you really should. I’m really good with kids, I’m great cook, my references are impeccable, I have a degree in early child development, and you’re desperately out of time.”

“I noticed that all your previous families had older kids,” Eddie said picking up Steve’s resume. “Can you explain that?”

“Yes,” Steve said with a sigh. “Unfortunately, despite being practically perfect in every way,” Eddie huffed out a small laugh, “if I was a woman I would be the most sought after nanny in the whole god damned state. Even more so if I was older fifty. But because I’m a young man not even thirty yet and all they see is a predator.”

Eddie winced. He held up a finger. He picked up his phone and called the agency. “Hello? Hi Nancy, this is Eddie Munson. Yes, I will be taking Steve Harrington on as my nanny. Thank you so much for sending him over. Can you tell me who it was the first person I spoke to this morning? Yes, yes that’s the one. Kindly inform her that pushing harmful stereotypes only makes you look stupid. Mhmm. Yes. Yes. I want her fired. Thank you. Goodbye.”

Steve looked at him in awe. “Oh wow.”

Eddie grinned at him but before he could open his mouth to say something more, Chrissy poked her head in. “Sorry to disturb you but guess who woke up?”

“Janice?” Eddie replied with a fond smile.

“And guess who woke up her sister because she wanted someone to play with?” Chrissy said.

“Also Janice.” He sighed and turned to Steve. “You want to meet my little monsters?”

Steve smiled and stood up. “That was the one thing I was going to suggest we do before you hire me, is meet the girls. But having met their dad, I can already tell they’re going to be a handful.”

“Hey!” Eddie protested. But Chrissy laughed.

“Come on,” he said grumpily, “let’s go see the munchkins.”

Chrissy opened the door all of the way and Eddie and Steve followed her out. They reached the kitchen and there seating at a table were two of the cutest kids Steve had ever worked for. They both had light, curly brown hair and deep brown eyes, but that was where their similarities ended.

The one of the right had her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail with a denim overalls over a pink shirt. The overalls had a cute pink kangaroo on the pocket on the front. The girl on the left had her hair carefully braided and wore light blue shirt and a black pleated skirt. They were both munching on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

“Meet Janice and Joan,” Eddie said brightly. “Janice is the one on the right and the other is Joan. Janice is the oldest by seven minutes and she never lets Joan forget it.”

Joan stuck her tongue out at her dad around her sandwich and then went back to munching on it. Janice looked over at Steve and cocked her head to the side.

“Who’s that, Daddy?” she asked. And suddenly Steve was struck by how much the little girl acted like her dad.

“Girls,” Eddie said sternly, “do you remember when I said that Daddy was going to be gone for three months and you were going to be looked after by a new friend?”

Joan scrunched her nose and Steve was endeared. “Is he like one of those nannies that were so mean to us?”

“No, of course not, Joanie,” Eddie said, “not a nanny...” He looked to Steve for help.

“I’m what’s called an au pair,” he said brightly. “I’m here to watch over you and do a little of the cooking and cleaning, too. A nanny wouldn’t do that right?”

Joan and Janice shared a glance. And Steve was struck for the first time that they were really were twins. They acted so differently that he had already put them in separate boxes. But they moved in unison as they both shrugged.

“I guess not,” Janice huffed. “Are you going to be fun like Chrissy or strict like Daddy?”

The adults laughed as Steve walked over to the table. “My hope is to be somewhere in the middle. But I guess we’ll just have to see.”

He turned to Eddie and Chrissy. “If it’s all right, I’d like to get started now, give the girls time to get use to my presence while you’re still here, Eddie. That way we can smooth out any real problems before you go.”

Chrissy and Eddie shared a glance.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, “that’ll be fine. Great even. I’ll give you a couple of hours to get your things and come back here. Would you be okay making us dinner?”

Steve beamed at him. “Sure, give me an idea of what you guys like and I’ll find something to make you. Let’s consider it part of the interview.”

Eddie smiled back. “Well I think you have yourself a deal.”

Steve and Eddie shook hands.

This was either going to the best decision of Eddie’s life or his worst. Currently the jury and his brain were still out on that one.

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[coke-hearted]

so trump is now making it a law that there are only 2 genders, took down the GOVERMENTS OWN WEBSITE about reproductive rights, and pardoned 1,600 criminals who stormed the Capitol on January 6th and erased the whole situation. i am geanuienly terrified. i am a woman, but how could a man take away so many non-binary and trans peoples rights? what have they ever done to you? how could you believe you have the right or that it is ok to take away someones identity. with the rise of rape crime rising dramatically with over 2 million woman being raped every year, what will so many women do without access to abortions and birth control? and god forbid, if i needed to get an abortion because of this my family can't afford to go fly out of country and get it somewhere else. the awful people who thought it was ok to attack and storm the Capitol "in trumps name" seeing them get pardoned for their crimes by "their savior" can and definitely will do this again. this is promoting violence. this is opening the door to people finding it ok to do this because the man who brainwashed them into this sick state of mind said its ok. trump can slap an american flag on anything and call it patriotic. when people see the flag they believe it is patriotic. its not. the flag is a picture. a symbol. an evil man holding up the american flag is NOT patriotic. a piece of cloth does not define us. america is about freedom, values, and strength as a community that is free. america is supposed to be free. our freedom to be who we want to be, go where we want, and say what we want should NOT be taken away by one man. donald trump is nothing but a small, insecure, little boy. but he is not dumb. he is evil. he found a way to brainwash the lower iq conservative group into believing that holding up the flag meant he was going to save america. he's going to save himself and his billionaire friends. that's it. and the amount of men who have told me that i "don't understand what i'm talking about," or that "i'm not educated," is fucking disgusting. every woman, and every good people left have been fucking failed. america is going down.

[paulyenvol6]

Bruised, Not Broken (Part 3)

This is part three of this little series and it's based on these two requests: 1 and 2 Hope you like it :)

Contains: reader giving birth, anxiety, mentions of pain

Wordcount: 3.06k

Masterlist

When you woke up the next day you needed a moment to remember what happened the other day and couldn't help but feel regretful.

Yes, you thought it was best to reconcile with Daemon now, but the prospect of having to deal with him now so early in the morning….

And yet you quickly got up and sent for your handmaidens and then half an hour later you stood in your room fully dressed and ran a hand over your stomach.

"Are you alright, my lady?" your servant Avila spoke with her thick accent while looking you up and down.

"Yes. I am."

She nodded friendly and then left your chambers.

You closed your eyes, inhaled deeply and then folded your hands over your belly. It was minutes later when a guard announced that Daemon had landed on the island and so you started to make your way through the corridor, out of the castle and to the gate of dragonstone with Ser Roggers by your side.

You did everything with a straight face and didn't allow your emotions to shine through for a second when you saw Daemon approaching from the far. The closer he came the more your heart seemed to be torn apart by an invisible force and then he stood in front of you with a look in his eyes that reminded you of longing.

"Y/n," he breathed but you tried to look as cold as possible.

"Daemon. Would you follow me inside, please?"

Without even waiting for an answer you turned around and walked towards the castle and you could hear both men quickly following you. The wind roared in your ears and had this strange fear of drowning suddenly. Everything washed over you and you had to bring up all your will-power not to instantly break down. Seven hells, you hadn't thought that seeing him again would be that hard. But now there was no going back and so you endured the short journey and then the three of you found yourselves inside of the castle in front of a table.

"You can go now," you told the knight who bowed and obeyed your order while you sat down on a chair observing Daemon with your most dangerous look.

"Y/n," he whispered again and if you hadn't felt this miserable yourself you might have laughed at his whiny voice.

"Shut up," you hissed and gestured to a chair. "You're not here to do the talking."

Daemon hesitated but eventually slowly sank down on a chair, not looking any better.

"I allowed you to come here today because I will give birth soon. And… And it's still our child and so although I'll hate to even be in the same room as you, I give you the chance to be part of its life. And well, I thought I better get used to you coming here regularly now rather than after I have given birth."

You had dropped your gaze and therefore couldn't see his reaction to your words. At first he didn't say anything and at some point you just had to see his face so you looked in his tired eyes.

"Y/n," he breathed which made you chuckle.

"Do you have anything else to say besides than my name?"

"Come back, y/n." You scoffed and shook your head in disbelief.

"Gods be good, Daemon. Are you fucking kidding me bringing this up again now? I give you a chance here and this is how you're thanking me? I will not come back to you and you should start getting used to it."

Daemon crossed his legs and placed his hands on the table in front of him.

"We can have a life in the keep. With our child, y/n."

"No we could've had a life together. If you hadn't fucked this up."

You were so furious again that you heard your own heartbeat louder than anything else in the room. Obviously he had nothing to say against your words so the both of you remained silent until you sighed out.

"Well. As I said, I allow you to be part of this to some extent. You can come and visit if it's not too frequent. And… you can be here when… when I give birth. And we'll see how we'll handle it afterwards."

Your voice broke and you were glad Daemon didn't comment it and instead stared to the ground.

"C-Can I feel it?" he then asked with a trembling bottom lip.

You gulped loudly trying to surpress the tears welling in the corner of your eyes and inhaled a few times. But then you nodded and your husband who you had once loved so dearly approached you until he stood in front of you. He lifted his hand to your belly and gently stroke it while you were able to identify the wetness in his eyes as traces of tears.

"What do you think it will be? Boy or girl?"

You sniffed but shook your head. "No idea." You simply couldn't bring yourself to look at him, it was too painful.

You could take the easy path. You could say you forgive him and let him hug you and take you back to king's landing. You could give birth there, live by his side until the end of your life and act like none of this ever happened. But then you would also have to live with all of this distrust and fear that he would betray you again. You couldn't even think about him touching you now after what he had done. Every time you would look at him you'd be reminded of the way he had broken your heart and you knew that this weighed more than any happiness he could ever gift you.

From now on Daemon came to Dragonstone on a regular basis and you almost asked yourself how he had the time for it. To be precise, he came whenever you allowed him to.

And when he did, the two of you strolled around the garden of the castle, drank tea together or sat in the library. Of course your deep anger towards him didn't vanish in any way and yet you couldn't deny the fact that he grew more familiar again. And the strangest thing about it was that you didn't do anything about it despite noticing it.

You set clear boundaries, refused his offer to take you back to the capital countless times while claiming that you'd never come back to him but on some days you found yourself talking to him about unimportant topics for hours just as you had done before this whole mess.

Once, Daemon brought an exotic flute from Essos with him which he gifted you and so you spent the afternoon playing familiar tunes that the other person had to name. On that day you forgot what Daemon had done for a brief moment which you shocked you so much afterwards that you immediately asked him to leave. And then you lay in your bed questioning if this had actually been a good idea. You couldn't allow yourself to emotionally grow close to him again and risk making stupid choices.

The days and weeks passed, and then, when the Maesters predicted it could only be a matter of days before you went into labour, you decided that it would be best to allow Daemon to stay at dragonstone for a few days so he wouldn't miss the birth of his child.

He accepted your invitation with pleasure and promised you he'd always be by your side when he arrived which you commented with an eye roll. Whatever all of this was, you would never be his again. You would never get yourself in this position again.

It took two more days until the day had finally come. You spent the morning in your favourite chair as walking had become difficult for you. Daemon offered his help at any given chance but you refused him as you despised everything that made you feel dependent on him after all.

Around midday you started to feel a stinging ache in your core but you didn't want to call the maesters unless you were absolutely certain that the babe actually came so you waited ignoring the pain but Daemon noticed the way you shifted in your seat.

"Y/n. Is everything alright?"

Determindely you nodded. "Yes. Just keep reading."

He narrowed his eyes but lowered his gaze to his book again until it seemed to him that your breathing became heavier and he stopped again.

"Y/n. Are you sure? I can get the maesters, maybe it's coming."

If you hadn't been so exhausted you would've rolled your eyes at him but now all you did was avoid his gaze.

"I said it's fine. I will now when it's coming. Just shut up and let me at least concentrate on my book if you're not able to read yours."

Of course you knew that you were being unfair and rude to him but he didn't deserve any better. You felt good thinking that you had hurt him. You wanted to hurt him until he felt just the way you had after you had found out that he had cheated on you. That very moment had left scars on you that you weren't sure would ever heal. Didn't he deserve just the same?

You remained stubborn for another few minutes but soon you reached a point where you couldn't uphold you pride any longer and hissed out loudly. Everything inside of you refused to ask Daemon for his help but he was the only person with you in this room after all and so you were dependent on his help.

"Get the maesters, Daemon," you said with closed eyes and tightly gripped the armrest of your chair. He looked at you with big eyes and immediately jumped to his feet.

"Fucking go already," you urged him and then he was gone.

You didn't know how much time had passed when he returned but you knew that the pain became more unbearable the longer you were sitting there and when you saw the face of maester Gregor you almost cried out in relief.

"It's coming, it's coming," you breathed panicky and intended to get off your chair which Gregor instantly prevented by gently pushing you back by your shoulder.

"You need to stay calm now, my lady. Breathe steadily and then we will get you to the bed. But panic won't do you any good now, alright?"

You nodded and closed your eyes again as you could listen to your own breathing better that way. And then soon Gregor and Daemon helped you get up by wrapping their arms around your back and led you to the bed in the middle of the room.

"Careful now," Gregor urged and you bit your bottom lip surpressing a cry. It hurt like hell and you wondered how any woman voluntarily would want to go through this more than once.

"It will probably be less painful for you if you go on all fours, my lady," Gregor's voice cut through the air and your clouded mind was able to comprehend and act accordingly.

The two men helped you again and you found yourself on your knees. Gods, what were you doing here? You had no idea about giving birth and what if it just simply wouldn't come. Or what if it died because you messed up? Or what if you died?

You dropped your gaze and let the tears flow which Daemon seemed to notice because he stepped closer to the bed.

"Y/n. Look at me." But he was the last person you wanted to be comforted by now so you shook your head.

"Please. I know that you'd rather never see me again but please let me help you now."

"How the fuck do you wanna help me? Do you wanna press this child out?" you growled with flashing eyes.

Suddenly his hand was on your shoulder giving you support as you had threatened to collaps.

"You got this. I know that you will deliver this child because you're the strongest person I know and I need you to trust in yourself. It will be fine."

"Shut up," you said but sounded a lot more quiet now. You heard voices around you which hinted at the fact that your handmaidens had come to support you as well and when you saw Avila's familiar dark locks you felt a lot safer all of a sudden.

"The babe is coming, my lady. You need to press now. Hard," Gregor told you and you really tried but it hurt so much that you wondered if it was supposed to feel that way.

"OH FUCK," you screamed and gripped the bed sheets while grinding your teeth. When you felt Daemon take your hand, you didn't even push it away, because after you squeezed it, you realised how well it worked to get rid of some of the tension in your body.

"You need to push harder, my lady," your maester then said and you let out a cry.

"I can't. I can't do this." You felt Daemon press a kiss on your hand that enclosed his firmly.

"Yes you can. You can do anything, y/n. Just breathe, okay? You can't forget to breathe and then the rest will work out."

"Daemon," you hissed overtaken by a new melancholic emotion.

"Yes, I'm here. And I won't leave you alone, I promise."

And although you wanted to tell him that you would rather have him leave you alone you couldn't. Because it wouldn't have been the truth. Suddenly his presence was comforting and his voice that encouraged you every now and then gave you energy.

And yet it took almost another hour until the child came. A boy. A blonde boy that started to scream the moment he felt the air brush over his wrinkled skin. You on the other hand collapsed on the bed and cried against the cushion while Daemon repeatedly ran his thumb over the back of your hand.

"It's okay, you did it, y/n. You did it and I'm so proud of you."

Gregor had taken the boy from you to see if he was alright and healthy but soon when you had control over yourself again you demanded to hold your child. Gregor followed your command and placed him on your chest once you had turned on your back again.

He was so tiny that you feared you would break him and only very gently caressed his little head. You had carried this beatiful creature inside you for so long? You felt so connected to him already although you had only just seen him for the first time.

For a while you could only stare at him, mesmerized by how vulnerable and yet beautiful he looked in your arms and then you glanced at Daemon's hand brushing over his son's cheek.

"Have you thought about a name?" he asked and you nodded without taking your eyes off him.

"Yes. He shall be named after my father. Arren."

You didn't care whether Daemon approved of it because you had already chosen the name and deep down you knew that he wouldn't dare to interfere. He didn't answer at all and the both of you spent the next minutes in silence watching Arren wrinkle his nose. He was a lot more calm now that he got to be in his mother's arms and suddenly you were so relieved that you felt fresh tears welling in your eyes.

"He's pretty," Daemon whispered and you couldn't help but agree with him on this one. "He is."

"Darling?" he then asked and you were too absent-minded to notice what he had called you.

"Mhm?" you just made too busy admiring little Arren.

"Let's go home."

For a moment you didn't say anything and perhaps Daemon believed it was a good sign. But then you chuckled quietly and shook your head in disbelief.

"No. You still don't get it, do you?"

Your voice was barely more than a whisper because you definitely felt too tired to raise your voice at him and yet you had never been more convinced of your words.

"But he's supposed to grow up in king's landing. His whole family is there and… and we can just have a normal life together. Like we always wanted."

He looked like he wanted to say more but you cut him off by raising your hand.

"Our relationship is over. You had your chance but you messed it up and nothing will ever change that. If you insist I will ask Viserys to annul our marriage."

Daemon sighed and threw his head back. "You know that he won't do that. There is a child involved."

Of course you knew that he had a point but there was no way you would show him any sign of doubt. "I will find a way."

Your husband pressed his hand on his eyes but you just kept talking.

"You can see Arren whenever you like and maybe he can come to King's Landing some day. Only for a few days of course."

Daemon let out a disapproving hum and sat up straight again. "You can't keep my son away from me."

"I'm not keeping him away from you. As I said, you can come here whenever you like. But we are not in a relationship anymore."

You glanced at him for a brief moment and noticed how tired he looked. You had never seen him like that. During the "good" part of your marriage you had never seen any sign of a weakness on him. He was the rogue prince, a fierce warrior who couldn't get intimidated by anything, but right now? He looked 10 years older than he was and had dark circles under his eyes.

'All of this is his own fault,' the voice in your head reminded you and you turned your head away.

"I'd like a moment alone now. I'm very tired as you probably can imagine."

And Daemon followed your request without saying another word.

Did you break him at last? Would he stop begging you to come back? You didn't know, but that would be a problem for another day.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@avalyaaa @inlovewrafe @fanfics4ever

[copinghex]

Sincerely yours, me | T.S

Summary: Tommy receives anonymous gifts and letters. All the signs point to a single conclusion - he has a secret admirer.

The first gift was misinterpreted, as harmless as it could be, a man like Tommy wouldn't simply eat anything sent to him.

Sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea, Polly waited for Tommy to get home. On the table, a delicate box from a nearby bakery and a letter caught everyone's attention, not only for the gesture but also the date.

If anyone would search for Thomas Shelby in city registers, all they'd find would be his army register, indicating his date of birth was 19th September, months earlier than the true date, a cold Wednesday morning of November. Whoever sent the gift was close enough to the family to not be fooled by the erroneous papers.

That day, Tommy entered the kitchen in quick steps, unconsciously or not, he always worked more on his birthday, not being particularly fond of celebrating.

“Is anything special about the age of thirty?” Polly asked.

“...no,” noticing the suspicious gifts on the table, Tommy reached for the letter, the envelope contained no information other than his own name, “who bought this?”

“No one, it was left on the door this morning,” she turned the box to show him the bakery’s name, “the place isn't cheap, they wouldn't leave it at the door without someone to collect it,”

“So someone ordered and left it at the door,” Tommy concluded.

“What does the letter say?”

The first thing Tommy noticed was the calligraphy, it wasn't neat nor horrendous. He could see the author tried their best to look nice.

Dear Tommy,

Originally, I was excited to write you this letter. Now that I have your cake and shall deliver it tomorrow, it makes me question if this was a good idea.

I believe birthdays are meant to be celebrated with those we have dearly. You seem to think otherwise, nevertheless, I hope you (and your family) enjoy the flavor I picked.

I wish I had bought you a gift as well, I had an eye on a pocket watch from a pawnshop in London, it'd seat nicely with a brown three piece you have, unfortunately my budget is not endless.

I hope you enjoy your birthday and wish you all the happiness, prosperity and good fortune.

Sincerely yours, me.

P.S I've taken notice I mentioned the cake spent a day in my house, if the thought ever crosses your head, do not worry, it cannot have spoiled, I kept it on the ice box all the time ♡

“So?” Polly questioned.

“Take a look at the calligraphy,” he handed her the letter, “does it look familiar?”

“Not at all, I can check in the books, but it's too neat to belong to any of our men, also there's a heart in the end,”

“Alright,” he sighed, “I want you to go to the bakery and ask who ordered it, then ask all the neighbors about the person who left it at the door, anything is useful,”

“Oh, for Christ's sake! I've things to do but to investigate a birthday cake!”

“Polly,” Tommy opened the box, “whoever sent this is watching from close, what do they plan to do with all this information? It can't be good,”

“Alright,” she sighed, “I'll ask, but I bet is nothing more than some of the neighbors’ daughters wearing her heart out for you,”

“Fucking finally,” John suddenly entered the kitchen, “Polly said we'd only eat when you arrived,”

“No one is going to eat,” he looked at the cake, the white topping could be easily deduced as vanilla while the bottom was chocolate.

“What?! What not?”

“We don't know who fucking sent this, it can be poisoned,”

“Or someone wants to send a message,” Polly added.

“Or it's just fucking cake,” John argued, “ugh, forget it,”

As John left, Tommy threw the box in the trash, the light sweet scent rose up to his nose and looking superficially, it seemed like nothing but an innocently sent birthday gift. He wouldn't risk it though, if he was wrong about it, it'd be shameful to die over a piece of cake.

Weeks went by without further information, all the bakery was able to tell was that the person who made the order was a woman, nothing they hadn't already deduced. The dust settled, with no signs of danger or special dates coming by, nothing disturbed Tommy's routine.

The second gift was delivered by Scudboat, at the end of a shift in the betting shop he sneaked his head into Tommy's tiny office with a bulky envelope.

“Tom? I'm going home,” he said.

“See you tomorrow,” Tommy didn't lift his eyes from the papers on the desk.

“Someone left this on my desk today, it's for you,”

His shoulders dropped in a tired move, one more problem was everything he didn't need, “Who did? Did you see?”

“No, we had a full house today, I'm sorry, man,” Scudboat left.

First, a wooden horse fell from the paper. The delicate miniature wasn't bigger than a pocket watch, but the details revealed it was made by talented hands.

Dear Tommy,

Although throwing the whole cake away did offend me, I admit I'm the one at fault for this huge miscalculation, I have no enemies myself and yet, I'd be hesitant to eat something anonymously sent to my door.

Therefore, please accept this horse as a gift instead. It sat dusting up on my shelf for way too long, if you ask me, it resembles Monaghan boy.

Sincerely yours, me.

Tommy placed the miniature in the corner of his desk, it immediately set amongst his other belongings as if it was made to be there.

Slightly crumbling the paper, he fought the urge of ripping it apart, no harm was done and he couldn't find any subtle threats between the lines, but the thought of being observed made him tremble.

The possibility of someone being truly in love with him crossed his mind and was quickly shaken off. Tommy knew he wasn't lovable, at least not anymore, at most it must be infatuation from a stupid woman.

Putting the letter in a drawer, he carried on with his paperwork.

The third gift came three weeks later, when Tommy thought she had given up on him. A worn out bracelet he recognized from an Appleby fair, years ago he bought one for Greta Jurossi and managed to sneak up some more while the seller turned around to get his change. He remembered distributing them amongst her friends.

Those faces were all blurred in Tommy's memory now, shadows from a past that seemed so distant it felt like another life.

The envelope wasn't neat like the previous ones either, delivered by Ada herself, all she offered as explanation was an entertained smile and a “read the letter, Tom”

Relief washed over him learning that Ada was the one collecting information. The worry’s weight left his shoulders and then, the whole scenario felt as laughable as a joke.

Tommy,

It has come to my attention that my letters do you more harm than good. What a shame, I had planned to toy with you a while longer, but seeming it doesn't have the expected effect, I believe there's no option other than revealing myself.

I assure you I never intended harm and Ada was of great help in keeping an eye on you. Please, do not be upset at her, she was manipulated by having me watching Karl whenever needed.

Thomas, you are very dear to me, I've made it clear through the last few months, because of it, I'll be at the Garrison this Friday from 17:00 to 18:00, at the last table in the corner, we've never been complete strangers so you'll recognize me.

All I ask you is to not show up with selfish intentions, to mock me or satisfy your curiosity. I want to be someone close to you, someone you trust and perhaps like. If this possibility exists, come meet me, if your heart is permanently closed, I understand, but please do not come.

Sincerely yours, //////////

Tommy slowly put the letter down, the red scribbles where her name should be evoked sympathy within him. He imagined a simple girl, a silhouette between Greta's friends, switching pen colors and ruining the end of a tidy letter.

Lighting up a cigarette, he rubbed his tense brow, decisions that involved others were always harder and he doubted he'd get used to it someday.

He also couldn't deny curiosity was eating him alive, he needed to know who was sweet enough to look away from the atrocities he committed after France and still love the man he became.

Love, the word sounded so foreign to him he made a decision. He'd go to the encounter, even if he wasn't sure he wanted a relationship, having someone who loved him would be useful.

The week went by fast, around a quarter to five Tommy ordered everyone out of the Garrison, two cups and a whiskey bottle waited with him. He wouldn't define what he felt as excitement, perhaps satisfaction in finally closing that case.

Leaning on the counter, he stared at the doors, a hesitant shadow showed up on the glass panel, the knob moved down and a few seconds passed until she got in.

Her eyes widened seeing the pub empty, a shiver ran down her spine as her eyes met his squinted ones. She gulped, frozen at the entry. Tommy sized her up and his gaze softened, an afternoon tea at the Jurossi’s house years ago, he'd barely noticed her, apparently she had noticed him.

“You came,” she greeted.

“I was curious,”

“Tommy, I asked you to not-”

“Yeah,” he interrupted, “it was brave of you to keep me in the dark for so long,”

“It was barely two months,”

“Could've been much more if so you decided,”

“Why would I? You didn't see to enjoy my… admiration at all,”

Pouring them drinks, Tommy called her to the counter. She shyly smiled as he handed her a glass and made a tiny toast.

“It was clever,” he complimented, “I recruit clever people,”

“So this is business focused?” she looked down, disappointed.

“Amongst other things,” with his glass, he lifted her chin, “I think we can achieve great things together,”

[magnifythesun]

Hiii so mexican salsa YES this post is a prompt! Feel free to change it to whatever you like, but I'd love a lil' story like this:

Ian and anthony are both very obviously in love and the whole smoffice knows it, but them lmao! I'd love this fic to be just text messages or slack posts or sth, where the cast and crew report of sightings of Ian and anthony doing very ianthony stuff and not realize it themselves. Maybe they come up w a way to show or nudge them in the right direction? But Ian and Anthony will still make it a bro moment (broment) bc they think the other one just wants to be bros LMAO ~ Japhan2024 💖

@japhan2024 FANTASTIC IDEA I have to believe that the Smosh cast legit has a secret group chat for stuff like this hahaha the looks on their faces whenever Ian and Anthony do something shippy is priceless

im going to wrack my brain for my favorite moments lolol I hope you enjoy!

(mid writing note: i first wrote basically all texts but it wasn't quite flowing the way i wanted it to so now there's a little more prose lol. this also taught me i do NOT know enough crew members' names)

read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56346769

---

It took Erin less than ten minutes to create The Group Chat following the slapping video caress incident.

Erin: "okay so what the fuck"

Tommy: "i'm beside myself."

Angela: "SO WE'RE FINALLY TALKING ABOUT IT"

It began, and all hell broke loose from there.

Most of the cast and crew didn't know Anthony too well when he first returned, but everyone could tell Ian began to positively glow once he came back. It had started mostly with little under-the-breath comments about how big Ian had smiled at something Anthony did, or shared glances after they looked lost in each other's worlds. It's not that everyone wanted to speculate about their bosses, but rather that their bosses were practically giving them no choice.

The real watershed moment was the birth of The Group Chat, which finally provided an outlet for all ianthony incidents witnessed by the cast and crew.

---

Shayne: "Please tell me how Anthony managed to turn his smosh cast interview into an hour of us complimenting Ian."

Tommy: "i swear he practices in his car on the way to work"

---

Erin: "not them discussing deepthroating injuries for like three whole minutes..."

Erin: "while Anthony sucks on his rainbow lollipop......"

Chanse: "they are not beating the allegations"

---

Josh: "So this is I think the fourth video I've edited where Anthony has called Ian daddy??"

Josh: "WHAT is the thought process. I just can't put it together. is Anthony just like yeah I'm going to call my bro daddy about seventeen separate times with varying levels of seriousness and that's good and het and normal."

Erin: "Josh, istg you don't see the half of it. Come watch them film and pay special attention when the cameras are OFF."

---

Erin: "im losing it"

Arasha: "oh god. what happened"

Erin: "i am not fucking kidding right now anthony just called him submissive and breedable."

Keith: "WHAT"

Erin: "he said what he said."

Angela: "BREEDABLE????????????"

Erin: "in front of god and everyone."

Angela: "BREEDABLE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!"

---

Tommy: "catching up on the main channel sketches and i just have to ask"

Tommy: "How many men can Ian date in his sketches until he realizes he'd like to date one in real life?"

Chanse: "don't SPEAK to me about it"

---

Tommy: "bicurious, hmm? Ian would you like to share something with the class???"

Chanse: "hes so deep in the mental closet his art is trying to scream it at him through his subconscious."

Chanse: "ive been there 😞"

Josh: "I've never been more prepared to edit a video in my whole life"

---

Angela: "Erinnnn not u directing them to stand closer together 😭😭"

Erin: "look I'm at my wits end. I'm thinking forced proximity might do it"

Keith: "if that could work they would have gotten it during kissing currency 😙💸"

Shayne: "@ courtney is this your thought process behind wanting a kissing video"

Courtney: "HA"

Courtney: "yes."

---

Courtney: "okay so if our plan at this point is just to make them read so many fanfics about themselves out loud that they spontaneously realize they're in love, we've got to find some fics that don't contain the word 'cummies'"

Angela: "what are cummies?? 😇"

Shayne: "ANGELA I SWEAR TO GOD"

---

As the incidents kept piling up, a plot began to form. Maybe Anthony and Ian were just so oblivious that they all needed to adopt a certain 'push-comes-to-shove' mentality, and do what had to be done. Everyone agreed, they had to find a way to put them in such a charged situation that this would all finally boil over, and the astounding tension that had plagued the office would be resolved. The ultimate achievement of this long-weary Group Chat.

Erin: "okay so one more time. everyone has talked with HR, yes? and everyone slated for the vid is comfortable with the concept of spin the bottle"

Angela: "what's spin the bottle? 😇"

Tommy: "STOP"

Shayne "1) Yes for the thousandth time, we promise. 2) What the FUCK are we going to do if this bottle never lands on Anthony and Ian"

Erin: "I will keep this shoot going as long as necessary."

Shayne: "That sounds like a threat?"

Chanse: "I'm suddenly regretting my decision. May I take my week's vacation right now?"

---

Erin: "how..."

Courtney: "did you see the look in their eyes????? :O"

Angela: "FATE WAS ON OUR SIDE. IT LANDED ON THEM THREE WHOLE TIMES"

Erin: "yes but,,,,,"

Tommy: "don't speak to me I'm still reeling"

Keith: "oh please don't tell me it didn't work."

Chanse: "i just have one question. how did they kiss THREE TIMES and still not realize."

Courtney: "they were both practically levitating from giddiness"

Arasha: "they just kept looking away from each other and laughing it off... they didn't see each other's expressions 😭😭"

Angela: "guys. guys"

Erin: "what"

Angela: "do u know what this means"

Angela: "now that we've pushed them over this hurdle... They're going to start bro kissing in their sketches"

Chanse: "oh my god"

Josh: "oh fuck you're right"

Erin: "that's it."

Erin: "im quitting smosh"

Amanda: "Oh hey guys! We have a group chat?"

Shayne:

[weeeeeekly]

quarter life crisis – ot5 tomorrow x together x afab!reader

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

blurb !!! Reincarnation can bring soulmates together despite their time apart. Being a huge fan of TOMORROW X TOGETHER helped you get through the struggles of entering early adulthood. You would thank them personally if you ever could but when you possibly get the chance it’s more than what you could ever hope for.

info !!! txt are still idols, reincarnation au, soulmates au, polyamory, throuple²… they’ll all eventually date each other, mc has mental health struggles, universe assigned lactose intolerance, team no kids, glasses wearer, lives in the middle of fuck nowhere but still a city (just go with it), pet names used are “our love” and princess, & not edited.

wc: 1.7k

WARNINGS !!! NSFW, MDNI, 18+, extremely self-indulgent, soft yandere!txt, mentions of mental health & self-harm (nothing graphic) for entire series

author’s note !!! This is fiction!!! this is made up!!! I do not condone breaking in, stalking, and other ulterior motives to get close to someone you are romantically interested in.

why are there not more ot5!txt x fem/afab or gender-neutral reader… mandatory note that i do not think txt act like this in real life. I also cannot come up with a blurb for the life of me, so please peep the info tags.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

CHAPTER TEN

general warning for SMUT and sexual jokes!! mentions of afab (assigned female at birth) body parts like tits & pussy, reader isn’t a virgin, men on men action, oral (fem receiving), PIV (penis in vagina) sex, unhuman levels of stamina & recovery periods, sixsome (??), one mpreg joke

You wake up a little bit later surrounded by the guys laying around and on you. Yeonjun is napping next to you as Soobin scrolls on his phone. Taehyun is sleeping on your stomach as Beomgyu and Kai are parallel and using your legs as pillows.

“Hey.” You whisper to Soobin as he locks his phone moving closer so you can snuggle up to him.

“Hi.”

“What time is it?”

“11:30. Still your birthday.”

“Thanks.” You smile as Soobin kisses your cheek.

Letting out a content sigh, you bask in the feeling of the Choi Soobin giving you kisses, but then you remember that you just had sex.

“Fuck.” Shooting up from laying down, you climb over Yeonjun as Beomgyu and Kai wake up complaining.

Quickly waddling to your bathroom since your legs are sore, you pee since you heard it reduces the risk of UTIs. Then pull back on a pair of underwear you don’t remember having on before you fell asleep which means one of the guys kindly put them on you while you were out. They’re also a pair you’ve been missing for a few days now, but let the thought go down the drain as you wash your hands thoroughly and head back to your room.

Leaning against the doorframe of your room allows you the wonderfully yummy view of a shirtless Soobin and Taehyun check their phones while a clothed, unfortunately, Kai clings to Yeonjun and Beomgyu.

“How are you feeling, our love?” Taehyun calls to you as you make your way to him.

“Feeling pretty good minus my legs being sore. Honestly, I could go again.”

“Wait.” Soobin puts his phone down. “You sure?”

Nodding your head, Taehyun starts kissing down your neck as he pulls your shirt to the side to expose your collarbone.

“Woah, slow down, Tae. You already had your turn.” Yeonjun complains as he gently pushes Taehyun out of the way. “Let the rest of us get a taste of our princess.”

Taehyun rolls his eyes, but let’s Yeonjun take his spot as Soobin tosses his phone on the ground. Taehyun sits on the edge of the bed as he helps Kai take his pjs off leaving quick kisses in between. You fall backwards on the bed beside Taehyun as Yeonjun makes out with you, stopping to take off his shirt.

Yeonjun works quick, stripping off his clothes. You smile as he throws his clothes around your room in haste to get back to you.

“Now, where were we?”

“You,” You start as you wrap your pointer finger around his chain and pull it toward you. “were about to fuck me.”

“I want to try something first.”

You tilt your head in confusion as he lays down on your pillow and motions his hands to his mouth.

“Oh… I couldn’t.”

“Yes, you can, princess.”

“Don’t blame me for the hospital bill if I break your nose.”

“It would be my dream to pass out between your thighs.”

Blushing, you swing your leg over him as you hover over his mouth your hands gripping your headboard. You feel someone behind you and a pair of hands go under your shirt to play with your tits.

“Hyuka.” You whisper his name as he helps you lower down onto Yeonjun.

The room is silent as you let out a long sigh that turns into a moan. Yeonjun has a steel grip on your thighs as he begins eating you out.

“Goddamn.”

“Your skin is so soft.” Kai whispers in your ear and starts sucking on your neck no doubt adding more hickeys that you will have trouble covering up with makeup.

Yeonjun continues eating you out like a fucking champ. Definitely would win gold if oral was a sport. He even gets a high-pitched noise from you when he focuses sucking on your clit.

It’s not long before you cum from his feverish endeavors. Your grip goes from your bedframe to Kai’s hands over your tits to ground yourself as you grind on Yeonjun’s face.

“Why are you all so good at this?” You pant as Kai helps you off Yeonjun.

He licks around his mouth, “What can I say? We’re hungry for you.”

“Funny.” You sarcastically say as Kai holds you.

Yeonjun sits up against your bed and pats his thighs. “Are you able to ride?”

“Fuck yes.”

You shakily sit on his left thigh as kiss his pouty lips.

“Can someone pass a condom please my loves? I don’t want to get pregnant.” You tilt Yeonjun’s chin to look up at you. “However, someone is going to leave this room pregnant.”

“What?”

“If only I had a dick so I could feel what it’s like to cum inside someone.”

Yeonjun looks at you with a concerned yet turned on look in his eyes, but silence from the rest of the guys after your comment. Beomgyu and Taehyun even stop from messing around to give you a weird look.

“Okay, damn, tough crowd.”

You take the condom from Soobin’s hand as you thank him. Slowly and skillfully, you roll the condom down Yeonjun’s length. Once the condom is properly put on, you squirt a good amount of lube onto your fingers and slather it onto his dick.

Kissing him, you sink down onto him and begin slowly rocking your hips. Yeonjun has to press his head to your chest because if he doesn’t, he feels like he’ll explode too early.

“You’re so good to me, Yeonjun.”

He moans at your compliment, and you feel his dick twitch a little inside you.

“Oh? You like praise too?”

You begin telling him the nicest things you can think of all while riding him to a climax.

“You look so hot with your mouth wide open, ready for me to kiss you.”

“Yeonjun, you know exactly what to do to get me like this.”

“Do you see how well we mold together? Like we were meant to be.”

The last comment makes Yeonjun snap as he takes control in fucking you, snapping his hips to quicken the pace. Now you’re the one at a loss of words as he fucks you from below, hitting your g-spot. You both cum at the same time.

Your legs are absolutely jelly, but you muster up the last bit of strength to slide off him and sit on your bed. Soobin hands you a new washcloth and helps you wipe up as Yeonjun has to catch his breath.

“Oh… my… god… princess.”

You giggle at how fucked out (literally!) Yeonjun looks.

“Soobin? Are you ready?”

Soobin looks at you incredulously as you bite your lip.

“B-but don’t you need to rest?”

“I just did.”

You grab another condom and toss it at him. Then grabbing a pillow next to Yeonjun who still looks like he’s on another planet, you prop yourself up with it on the edge of the bed. You turn back to still see Soobin just staring at you motionless.

“To switch things up.” Getting comfortable, you lean your elbows on your pillow as you’re on all fours.

Soobin gets the hint, puts the condom on, and then lubes up his dick. He moves into the position behind you, carefully grasping your hips as he leans over.

“You okay? You can take a break.”

“I’m really okay, Soobin. I’ll let you know when if it’s too much.”

He nods as he leans back staring at your behind. He then slowly pushes into you as you lean your head into your pillow.

Your voice is muffled. “So good.”

Soobin sets a good pace as you begin meeting his thrusts, swiveling your hips backwards. The sounds between the two of you are absolutely lewd – the hip smacking, the moaning, the wet noise.

You manage to look up from your pillow to notice that the younger three are missing from your room. You frown at their absence, but then Soobin moves a hand down to start circle-8’s on your clit and you begin seeing stars.

Soobin fucks you good into cumming hard.

You let out a whimper as he pulls out.

“Thank you.” He tells you as he kisses you.

You kiss him back, but he pulls away with a smile on his face.

“Happy second day of 23.”

The door to your bedroom opens to Beomgyu and Kai carrying a tray of food, a fat stack of bagels, various cut fruit, and a little cheese charcuterie board. Taehyun is behind them with your favorite reuseable water bottle filled with ice cold water for you and water bottles.

“Ugh, my saviors.”

The six of you take a short break from the inappropriate acts that were just taking place in the 4 walls of your bedroom to chow down on some food made with love.

“You guys are the best.” You compliment them as you feed Yeonjun a piece of cut up pineapple.

“Thanks for making some food. I’m full.”

You set down your empty plate as you crawl over to Beomgyu and Kai. “But not full like I could be.”

Kai chokes a little on his bite of bagel as Beomgyu chokes on his sip of water.

“Take me to Paris with the way I need to be Eiffel Towered.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a joke… there’s a three-way position called the Eiffel Tower with 2 people holding hands and 1 person in the middle… nevermind.”

“Both of us?”

“Can you take both of us?”

“I wish, but lmao no. I will fuck both of you though. Separately.”

The rest of your night is a blur. You finally got your turn with Beomgyu and Kai. Not at the same time though, your body could not take that. You’re convinced that you’ll be getting an email from the building manager about noise complaints from your neighbors. Embarrassing for you because then that means other people know about what the 6 of you did.

Surprisingly when you wake up, no such email was found when you checked your laptop, and your neighbors greeted you kindly on your floor when you went down to your mailbox.

Unbeknownst to you, TXT had bought everyone on your floor the newest pair of noise cancelling headphones that came with a note to promptly use them that night. And another check with a hefty amount given to the building manager to tell any prying tenants that the reason for the noise was filming for a movie.

masterlist | previous | next

author's note i wrote this while listening to txt on my cd player with their cds from their albums like god intended.

this chapter can be read stand alone from the series since it’s just smut lol. & again, everything is fictional!!! the depiction of sex is written specifically for fiction!! i am in no way insinuating any member of TXT acts like this because this is fiction!!!

[aleksanderscult]

Part 5 of Aleksander Morozova being a jealous bitch

Honestly, now that I searched and found his jealousy moments in "Ruin and Rising", I realize how 1000× jealous he is. And that's because he doesn't only have Mal as a love rival but now he also has Prince Nikolai fucking Lantsov (aka our little pookie) to deal with as a competitor for Alina's attention (he really can't get a rest💀).

Let's get it on and witness Aleksander getting more and more feral.

(Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 and the bonus content btw💛)

"His Sun Summoner"

He's so possessive please--

Also the fact that Alina threw a chapel on his face and Aleksander being "I want my wife back!😩"

"I'll give you diamonds, pearls and gold, just someone bring her here".

He's soo jealous!

"You chose HiM 😒 not me.😔"

The very thought that Alina keeps going back to a otkazat'sya drives him insane and makes him do rushed decisions.

Also the vibe is so: "AFter YoU RuN FrOm Me AfTeR YoU ChOsE😠🤮

*coughs and composes himself*

So yeah anyway we could have ruled together😊"

He's so embittered with them. The fact that they are so close to her and he is not.

(Now he also calls Nikolai names LMAO)

And the fact that even though Nikolai can make Alina a Queen and a powerful one, the Darkling is still NOT satisfied with it. He wants to be the one sitting beside her. Not a royal bastard who betrayed him and now opposes him.

Also, he doesn't consider Nikolai worthy of the throne. The fact that he calls him "pup" shows that he considers him young, inexperienced and foolish (and also hints at his illegitimate birth).

He believes that Alina is above these men.

THIS MOMENT IS GOLD

Let's take it from the beginning.

He can't understand how she keeps falling for mortals (Mal and Nikolai) and he seems genuinely baffled by it. It would seem more logical if she felt attraction for him. A powerful Grisha with immortality (aka. someone like her). But no, she chooses men that are nothing. That will soon die.

As if he didn't have relationships with otkazat'sya.

The also genuine surprise when Alina tells him that he liked him at the beginning LMAO

He's like: "Me? You liked me🥺?"

And the fact that Alina keeps surprising him makes her more desirable for him. He likes it.

Yes, basically here he's like: "DO I SENSE A FONDNESS FOR HIM??"

He's so possessive. The moment a living being shows interest for Alina, it's over for that bitch. And the moment Alina shows interest for another man, it's also over for that bitch.

(Also, he just refuses to speak the names of the men that he feels jealousy for. Now Nikolai is "that Lantsov pup", "your Lantsov prince". When someone tries to be close to Alina, he writes them off lmao)

Finally, here he is testing to see if she cares about him. And the fact that he smiled while saying that line says to me that he had already decided how to punish Nikolai. But now that Alina likes Nikolai, not only is his fate irrevocably sealed but the Darkling knows that Alina will be in pain for what comes next. And he will enjoy seeing that.

He's like: "You like him? Just wait and see what I'll do to him."

Yeah okay he might try to provoke her here BUT HE WANTS TO KNOW

Yes, Nikolai has kissed Alina and the Darkling knows this but have they slept together?? Has that Lantsov prince made her his?? He doesn't know. He suspects it. And the thought alone makes him punish Nikolai in a fitting way. Turn him into a bloodthirsty monster and these two will never be together again. Perfect.

And next he pulls her heartstrings. What will happen to Mal?? Will he stay devoted to her even if Alina marries Nikolai? He tries to put doubts in her mind and break their bond.

(You bet your asses that Aleksander is also jealous of Mal's future position. He wants to be at Alina's feet too🫠).

OKAY BUT HERE I NEED MORE CLARIFICATION FROM THE AUTHOR.

Why did his fingers tightened on the edge of the table?? What was his thinking, Leigh?? Give us his POV!!

Obviously he tries not to show anything (as usual) but still his emotions get the better of him and I have two theories of why he reacted that way.

1) Because she mentioned Mal. And even the mere mention of that name makes him choke blood.

2) Because of the reminder that if he appeared as he truly was at Alina, she would turn him away. A fact which hurted him and still hurts him to know. (Kinda reminds you of that moment in "Shadow and Bone" when Alina flinched from his touch, huh?😉😏). Every time Alina avoids him, his presence, his touch, it hurts him and drives him crazy.

He wants her to want him. As he is. Without Aleksander having to wear the face of an otkazat'sya.

It might be one of these theories, both of them or none of them (although personally I would bet it's the second one)

Also, his curiosity to know if Mal is the one Alina still wants. I believe he already knows the answer deep down. But still he tests her.

The jealousy. The bitterness. The sarcasm.

Three things that he displays so openly here.

The disdain he spits on the line "Fly back home to your otkazat'sya. Hold him tight" is so prevalent you can hear it through the freaking paper.

He is furious that she rejected his advances a moment ago. Furious that she keeps doing this to him but still she doesn't do that to her tracker.

Oh no no....To her tracker she is willing and loving. To him she is not.

It gives the vibe of "You don't let me touch you or kiss you. You keep pushing me back. So go back to that mortal and hold him if he's the one you want😡"

Random but I believe him when he says that he had regretted many things he had to do in this war. He didn't take pleasure when he killed Grisha. To him they are kin. People to protect.

But back to his jealous ass, he doesn't give a fuck for what he's about to do to Nikolai. He wants to punish him and torture him for:

1) Betraying him in "Siege and Storm"

2) Taking Alina away from him

3) Kissing Alina

4) Proposing marriage to Alina

5) Being a thorn at his side while he ruled as King ('cause Nikolai put him obstacles etc.)

6) Hiding Alina from him

So. Four out of six reasons were about Alina LMAO. Jealous bitch.

Here, ladies and gentlemen, he piqued his possessive side.

He wants to cut off anything Alina knows. Anything and anyone she loves. So the only person she'll have to turn to for company, protection and love will be him. Only him and no one else.

He knows that Alina depends too much over the ones she loves. And as long as they are alive, he cannot have her completely. So what is his great plan?

KILL THEM ALL.

Yeah. Not a great plan but anyway.

That's it! This is the end of this amazing (and petty) meta of the Darkling's jealousy moments. It really took five parts of this to finish (his salty moments are innumerable). It was really fun for me and hope you liked it too!

(but I might post some bonus content from RoW👀)

If you want me to write any other meta about him, Alina or their relationship then just ask😉

[etherealspacejelly]

Hey dad,

Are you out to your parents? I can never come out to mine, which creates a lot of questioning for my future.

If you are, how did you do it (I’m presuming you have parents)?

Thanks from a closeted new follower of your brilliant posts :)

I am out to my parents! I came out about 5 years ago now, it was my anniversary recently actually!

i came out to my dad first. i was going to his house for a different reason, but i decided to do it then because. idk. i just felt ready i guess. i sat down with him and he could tell something was up, so he asked me if there was anything i wanted to talk about and i said yes. and i told him i was nonbinary and aroace, and that i wanted to use they/them pronouns and go by a shortened version of my birth name (this was before i had decided on robin and he/they). he asked me what those things meant, with genuine curiosity because he hadnt heard of them before, so i explained it to him and he said ok! thats fine. and he said he loved me and supported me no matter what, and that it would be a bit hypocritical for him not to since he is queer himself (which i was not aware of at the time! he just assumed i knew??? hes pansexual lmao)

he did a bunch of research in his own time, watching videos by nonbinary youtubers and stuff like that. he learned how important it is for parents to facilitate social transition, so he took me to get my first gender affirming haircut a few weeks later. he also bought me my first binder, and took me shopping in the mens section for the first time. he also took me to my first pride that year! he has remained super supportive, calling me his son at work, greeting me with "hey my boy!" every time he sees me or calls me on the phone, has barely ever slipped up on my pronouns. basically, my dads a fucking legend lmao

i think a few weeks to a couple months after i told my dad, i came out to my mum. that went. not great. she was like. ok. and immediately went back to her phone. my heart just sank. she still gets my pronouns wrong 5 years later, she says often that i will always be her daughter. she even said that trans people are just mentally ill. she loves jkr and often uses terf talking points. but, she Says she supports me and isnt transphobic, and she Tries to use my pronouns so. yk. that makes everything ok /s

she also thinks that ill change my mind about being aroace when i find 'the right person'. i never told her about the queer platonic relationship i was in because i knew she would just use that against me. i had an entire year long relationship, and to this day she has no idea.

the thing is, my mum had always been a self professed supporter of the lgbtq. when i was a kid it was always "when you grow up and get a boyfriend or girlfriend" or "when you get married to your husband or wife", so i thought it would be a slam dunk. i thought, theres no way she wont accept me. but here we are. meanwhile, i had been quite nervous about telling my dad! i didnt know how he was going to react.

so, you never really know how these things will go. this isnt me telling you to come out, by the way! if you feel unsafe or unready then please dont. do whats right for you first and foremost. but, sometimes people will surprise you i guess, and not always for the better.

you will find your people. family is about unconditional love and acceptance, and if your parents arent providing that for you then they're not doing their damn jobs properly.

im always here if you need a dad, it would be my honour.

I love you, and I'm proud of you, kiddo :)

[bandofchimeras]

Buckle up cuz this is a longpost about Jewish conversion & transsexual identity.

A friend joked, "why do all the bad Catholic girls become good Jewish boys?" when I told them of my conversion.

which sure, it's a bit funny how common it is to find Jewish convert trans men.

but for me the joke formula is a bit off. I consider myself a Good (read: prudish, rule enforcing, obsessively observant) Catholic girl to a bad (read: indolent, irreverent, skeptical, punk ass) Jewish boy.

I had to ask myself, what does it mean to enter a religious tradition and outright declare oneself "bad"? Why do I even want to be part of the Jewish people?

Well it has to do with autonomy & reactivity.

Catholicism was forced upon my natural psyche, much like girlhood. I was assigned Catholic and Girl at birth.

To cope, aside from moments of lapse and rebellion that would explode out now and again, I strove to be "good," to exactingly follow this assignment, perfectly study all its rules and craft the perfect image of what was desired of me to wear as a mask over my realer, neglected and deeply wounded self.

Breaking free of both those constraints in rapid order, there was no going back. I would never again be a Catholic, bad or otherwise, or a girl, feminist or otherwise. Yet in my heart of course, I will always be a Catholic girl with the attendant moods and desires and shapes of understanding that it required me to take.

Now, in conversion and in transition - there is a choice. I could remain nonbinary, fluid, in constant flux, agnostic, ungrounded, dynamic and in conversation with the questions of the world. For a time I thought yes this is who I really am. Not seeing, of course, this is who we all are at our core. Living in that non-identity and infinite identity at once for a time spiritually reconnected my soul back to its own shapelessness and shape shifting power.

But there comes a time when life requires you make some commitments. This is not to say nonbinary or gender fluid people must pick a side. Some folks need to carve out something different entirely. But while my soul remains genderfluid, pagan and animist, I felt the need for communal identity and a structure to build myself on in the world. What aligned most was ftm transexuality, and Judaism, both strains of music I'd been hearing since early childhood, hints and leads all along the way.

See it's that, the formless mischievous spirit within me takes on the shape of a Jewish boy reconnecting with his Slavic roots.

But! In having so much a choice in this (not really, but it was a choice to follow the path that called my name), means it is my Identity. And while Judaism comes with a large set of rules, guidelines, practices and a huge long tradition of scholarship to draw on, and while I did hear jokes about and feel concerned about the similarity of Jewish and Catholic guilt ....none of that has been much of a problem. I'm a very bad and rules avoidant little punk. I tried for a minute to be a "good" man and it fucking failed, fell flat on my face and in the end had to laugh at my attempts. I'm kind of a slut, a fag and a sleazebag. I do what I want, no matter how I try, and that's that. Judaism, I hoped would be a forcefield of community to help me hold onto morality and find a light of belonging in the darkness.

Post October 7th, it has become exceedingly clear that no, it will not be the institutions of Judaism that light this candle, but the weirdos, the queers, the witches and outcasts and converts in conflict. Judaism, as a spiritual /shape/ has a home for us in the corners even though the solidified institutions are entrenched in Zionism. It breaks my heart to pieces but I feel lucky to have seen it before formally converting. It's the storytellers that means the most to my heart, the subaltern keepers of memory. The survivors.

So I revel in being a bad Jew before I am finished becoming one, embracing the role of black sheep before even entering the fold, and will not fight against it.

Similarly, allowing my masculinity to be odd, offbeat and expressive - I did get beat down into a kind of cishet conformity for survival for awhile, and I'm not talking about feminizing my expression, but just being a weird fucking guy who violates male social contracts by existing as myself.

There's a freedom in renouncing desire for recognition, validation and asserting oneself (with humility!) in a tradition while still embracing it. Like hah! You can't get rid of me, I'm the pest assigned by G-d to question your assumptions unto my own exclusion, or relate freely to G-d, look them in the eyes while praying. I have an attitude and I'm not good, and don't care to be. Nothing has illustrated this more beautifully than the graphic novel The Rabbi's Cat. In which the figure of the dog and the cat play out as different orientations towards Hashem and Judaism itself.

There is room for all of us. If you don't think so, okay. We will keep making room for ourselves anyhow.

Meow meow.

[swords-of-a-soilder]

The Healing Process

Chapters 19

A Warning

Phil tap his feet as he sloughed in the purple love seat across from Roier whom was dressed in a beautiful red dress and marvelous wig. He tap their pen on the clipboard as he waited for Phil to speak; but grew inpatient and decided on just starting the conversation.

"How are you feeling today?" He started, "any particular feeling you can hammer down?"

Phil shrugged his shoulders but stayed silent, his eyes started out the window to the landscape behind them, Roier wrote something down in his notebook with half lid eyes, "Well surly watching your friend die is enough to put anyone in emotional distressed.. do you blame yourself?"

"I'm sorry mate?" Phil asked with a nervouse chukkle.

"Cellbit tells me you've been isolating yourself since previous events." He began, "I suppose what I'm asking is, is this a form of punishment, do you think you should be blame and thus you're isolating yourself from confort?"

Phil eyebrows knitt in annoyance as he scoffed, "I don't want to being comforted because I don't wanna be pitted."

"Oh yeah, you seem to highly dislike being pitted.. why is that?"

"Because.. everyone looks down on you like some kind of helpless animal!" Phil explained, "it's patriozing, I don't wanna be the sickly baby bird everyone is fawning over, like any second if anyone even says his name I'm gonna.." Phil suddenly fell quite, starring upwards to stop his flowing tears, to no avail.

Roier grabbed the box of tissues nearby then offer them to Phil, whom cursed him under his breath as he took the box, "We've all been in need of help before, everyone on this island. It's not a crime to need support."

"I'm not the one who needs the most help right now, Richardlyson lost his father for Gods sake!" Phil debated as he pulled tissues from the box which he released his tears into.

"You watch your friends died right Infront of you," Roier rebuted"your pain is just as valid."

"I could of prevented this!" Phil double down, "I asked him about the goop he said it was nothing, I should have pushed him, I should have made his answer me!" He blew his nose loudly in a tissues then disgard it for another. "What kind of friend am?!"

"If I heard correctly, you were also suffering, you're being too hard on yourself."

"Everyone keeps fucking saying that; "you're being to hard on yourself, but I have to when I've gotten this weak!" Phill debated,

"People use to call me The Angle Of Death, I was terrifying and now...now I'm nobody... I'm not powerful, not scary, sure as hell not Strong. I couldn't even save my friend... God techno would be so disappointed in me.." Phil ended

Cellbit tapped his feet anxiously as he waited on a park bench, awaiting Phil return, soon enough Phil slowly approached an exhausted look in his puffy eyes.

Cellbit would hope the tears were a good sign, he'd been told it's not good to keep emotions in. "Did it go well?" Cellbit asked as he stood up.

"it went.." Phil cut himself off and instead processed down the path, "you said you found something?" He inquired

"Right well, it's certainly something."

Cellbit stood in awe at the sight Infront if him, a ocean partied in the Middle by a circular garden, with a path lead up to it. In the garden were humongous flowers among thick tall grass, guarding all this were two workers."looks like we have to get pass the workers some how." Cellbit Noted

"the audicity of these men." Phil complaining, "Guarding another man's birth right."

"huh?" Before he could inquire further Phil slide down the path then approached the workers with intent focus, the first working immediately put his hand out to stop Phil, who seemed extremely annoyed.

"you're in my way mate." Phill warned, "I just want to read the letter addressed to me." The guards shared glances with each other in thought, but ultimately decided against it.

The guard lowered his hand , still shaking his head no. Phil rolled his eyes, he then took his Cane in both hands which he used to bash the workers over the head knocking him out cold. instantly the other worker reached for his gun tucked in his belt, however before he could even pull it he'd feel the sharpness of a knife pushed against his neck.

"I don't think you want to do that." Cellbit warned with a whispered directly to the workers ear, "he'll respawn, what about you?"

The worker took the warning, slowly rasing his hand in the air to show defeat, Phil squint his eyes at the worker, then stole the gun for him, which he hide in his inventory. "Let him get his friend."

Cellbit obliged, releasing the worker who quickly tuned to his friend, he then return his knife to it's hiding spot . "Might wanna take him to a hospital mate," Phil mocked, "going unconscious like that could be a sign of brain damage."

They carried up the path ignoring the fustared worker, as they entered the beautiful structure. Cellbit took the time to observe the structure futher, he ran his fingers through the water, appualed to see fish swimming around it.

Soon a large sunkiss fish found his hand appealing and sawm around it, leaving Cellbit staring In wonder. Phil noting Cellbit absence turned to see him playing with said fish, thus he snuck his camera from his back pocket and snapped a quick picture of the scene.

Cellbit hearing the snap turn to find Phil fondling with his camera, with a smile he pulled his hand from the water as he approached Phil. "Did you get a good shot?" He tesaed

Phil snapped his head up, now aware Cellbit was above him, "I was just colleting evidence, "he lied as he buried the camera on his person.

"mhmm, sure." Cellbit teased further, in reality he was happy to see Phil even momenterly returning to himself. "I can't fault you for taking pictures, this place is beautiful!"

"Of course it is, Everything Rose makes is beautiful." Phil stated, he soon turn to a sniffle as tears push their way from his eyes. Cellbit moved closer, offering his handkerchief from his jacket as he inquired about Phil wellbeing.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Phil insist as he wipped his tears, "It's just Forever would say something like 'that includes you philza' and I would tease him like 'alright,ok' but secretly I'm flattered and I just.."

Cellbit watch in semi-concern, a part of him told him to comfort the old man yet this was the first time since it's happen that he'd be so vunerable. So instead he keep close, waiting for Phil to finish, and that he did.

"Fuck I didn't expect to miss him this much!" Phil complained with a sad chukkle, "I swear he's so annoying, why do I want him back? FUCK Cellbit I just really want him back."

Cellbit upon hearing his name rested his hand in his shoulder as an attempt to reassure him, it seemed to be helpful. "I know what you mean, I miss him like crazy everyday."he input, "Which is funny because normally he just pisses me off." He joked

Phil laugh along side him, then took a deep breath, he seems a little bit happier at the mention of Forever, maybe therapy was a good step after, he took one last sniff and completely wiped his tears, then handed Cellbit the handkerchief.

"okay," Phil Began, let's do this!" They may their way to the alter in the center of the garden, built from prissmarie decorated by coral. In the structure was a neatly placed book with Phil's name on the cover.

Phil fished the book from it's space then opened it as he began to read, Cellbit waited patiently for Phil to recount what he had read, but Phil seem more distressed the more he read. eventuallly he release a shaky sigh as he pass the book of to Cellbit.

Cellbit watched as he walked to a random patch of flowers, where he laid face down in the grass. Cellbit then decided to read the book but found himself horrified by the words in front of him. There was no hope to the statement made, not even a wish of good luck.

In fact if one could sum up the words in front of them, it all came down to; 'run, they're coming'. The cestal order had found them and Cellbit didn't know the first step to take. He looked over to Phil, looking for emotional support or a wise word, just.. something .

He felt panic settle in as he became awear of Phil's current state, he had completely transformed back into a large bird, lying still on the ground surrounded by Wither Roses.

Cellbit quicky rushed over to the old crow shaking him awake, Phil bealry open his eyes as he met Cellbit's gaze, Cellbit sighed in relief.

"Oh thank God, I thought the stress killed you." Cellbit admit, "I mean with the wither roses and you transforming." Phil spoke his head no, giving the younger man piece of mind. it seemed this was just Phil dealing with the sudden stress. "are you gonna be like this all day?" Cellbit inquired

Once again Phil shook no, Cellbit exhaled as he broke some of the rose so he could move closer to Phil, he leaned against his body the fluffy crow allowing himself to fall asleep. Phil decided on not waking him up and instead rest.

[ladylooch]

Has Nico ever walked into Emma and Timo fighting and he gets in the middle of them because Nico thought Timo was going to hit Emma? I KNOW Timo would NEVER do that but to Nico it looked like he was about to so his immediate response is to always defend his family no matter what

Emma and Timo are passionate fighters. Just like they are passionate lovers.

We agree, Timo WOULD NEVER hit Emma. 

But I could see them both arguing animatedly, arms flailing to the sides, they’re getting closer together. Emma is pregnant with Liv, big belly protruding between them with how close she is to giving birth. Nico had stopped by to drop Lio off after taking him and Lucie to see Disney on Ice with Lexi at The Rock. Timo and Emma were supposed to use that time to finish the nursery.

“You are so fucking ridiculous!” Timo bellows at his wife. Emma squints deeper at him, top lip curling up at him.

“You are so controlling!”

“I’m controlling!? Because I don’t want you, and our baby, inhaling paint fumes?”

“Yes! And you won’t let me do what I want with her name!”

“Emma, the glitter is going to get everywhere! She could ingest it! There are other options. You’re just being stubborn.”

“Oh fuck off, Timo.” She snarls. Timo bolts up straight, not appreciating the derogatory remark at him.

Emma turns towards Nico’s car, plastering a smile on her face. Timo stalks down the stairs after his wife, zeroing in on her shoulders. Nico steps forward, stopping Timo’s progression towards Emma.

“How about you calm down?” Nico suggests. Timo stops a foot away from his captain. They square up with each other. Timo angrily seethes, chest rising and failing. 

“He’s calling me a shit mom.” Emma grumbles, taking Lio’s hand in hers. Timo opens his mouth to yell back at her, then purses his lips at Nico’s look.

“Couple more deep breaths, eh?” Nico proposes.

“I did not say that. I am merely concerned that you are feeling rushed to get the room done and aren’t wanting to take the safest approach for you or the baby.” His response is forced through gritted teeth. Emma rolls her eyes and continues into the house with their son.

“Bye, Neeks. Thanks for taking Lee today.” Emma waves over her shoulder without turning back to either of the men.

“She acts like me loving her so hard is a fucking burden.” Timo runs an exhausted hand over this face. “I just want my girls safe.” 

“I know. But you also know Emma does what she pleases, when she pleases.” Nico chuckles. “You’re not going to change that. Take a different approach.” Timo ponders, then his eyes sparkle in recognition.

“We are doing our babymoon next weekend. Maybe you and the boys could paint the room while we are out?”

“Sure. What about the glitter though?”

“Lex probably has a suggestion?”

“I’ll get her involved.” Nico nods. “In the meantime, you’re almost there.” Nico adds in hopefully.

“We could get away with that hope for the first baby. But now I know the hormones don’t subside after birth. If anything, they’re worse.” Timo grumbles. “You know that now too. Get ready for your rollercoaster.” Timo says as he walks backwards to the house.

“We were dumb for getting them pregnant at the same time.”

“Shouldn’t of won the cup I guess?” Timo chirps back, then waves as he follows the path his wife and son took into the house.

[wild-wombytch]

I learned from "Punk Santa", the punk who gave me the CDs today -and who happened to have known my father- that someone I knew died last week. I'm not taking it really well.

(under the cut because it's a long vent of many many messy thoughts and also tw moid, you don't have to read about men, and tw child abuse and death)

It's fucked up because I'm aware I'm likely idolising him and that maybe if I saw him again before he died I would now find him as awful as the next man...but he was oddly extremely dear and important to me, because he was the one normal and not creepy adult I had when I grew up. By being normal he was the anomaly of my world. The one kind man I ever knew growing up, way before my middle-school teachers. He saw me with my curly hair and patiently listened to me enthusiastically talk about insects and horses and videogames for hours, asking questions and stuff, joking, encouraging me to express my views and emotions, explaining things to me wisely, defending me when my father belittled me and made me cry and scolding drunk other guests who would have inappropriate vocabulary or discussions around me. He was younger than my parents but much more responsible and caring than my father ever was. He was Yugoslav. The man born in a country that didn't exist anymore. He had six younger sisters he raised with his single mother. He was into drugs and shits but that's why he never had a partner that I ever heard of, because he said he knew he was a walking problem and his life sucked and didn't want to drag someone into this. He never said he was feminist like all these libfem men, he just respected women. Or at least he seemed so to me as a little girl who grew up with the worse examples of men around, including men pissing with the toilet door open. Even my mother said she wished she saw him again and that he was a green flag. One of my doggo who died two months before my father was the baby of his dog. I remember playing with her pups in the backyard of this man. I was the one who taught them how to respond to whistling.

One day, to cheer me up after some verbal abuse from my father that made me cry, I don't remember the exact context, but he said jokingly he'd marry me (in a very non-creepy way, that wasn't serious at all). I believe it was after some shit my father told me about being so gross or temperamental as a person that nobody would ever want me or some shit (when I was like. Five).

We stopped seeing him after he called out my father on his bullshits in my and my mother's defence, because my father likely "blacklisted" him from his circles then. We never really knew the whole story. Maybe it was also sickening to him to be powerless about the situation my mother and I were in. He was genuinely sorry for us.

I don't know. I missed him. I've been thinking about him this year and for months I was frantically searching for him, asking every gutter punk about him, asking an acquaintance if by any chance the guy with the same name he mention could be him...I really believed it was a question of time before our paths crossed again. I dreamt about him and me going to a travel together 2-3 weeks ago, with him listening to my enthusiastic talk about horses and being happy to catch up after I was confronted with weird monsters...I never dreamt about him before. I should've known.

It's hurting maybe more than losing a family member in a way. Apparently he was sick or something like that and didn't go get treatment. He died alone. Not long after his dog, who birthed the one I had. I don't even know this man's family name. His exact age. His birthday.

I feel sick. It's not my fault or responsibility, yet I can't help but wonder...what if I met "Punk Santa" three weeks ago? He knew about this man, he could've told me where he lived. I could've seen him one last time. Maybe kick his ass to go to the hospital. Maybe he wouldn't have died. He was at most in his early fifty. He had so many years before him. I can't believe it was his time yet. I missed him by one week and now I'll never see him again. I quite literally do not care about anyone who was around me when I grew up, if they die painfully (except "Punk Santa", grandpa's cool), in all honesty, they probably deserve it, but this man...I don't know if it's because I'm not in a great place psychologically but it's really messing me up. My actual self doesn't feel much connection with my past self due to the severe depersonalisation, derealisation and ptsd I experience, so I'm numb, but when I think of the little girl who is still somewhere inside of me, she's absolutely devastated and heartbroken and suddenly I can't stop crying. And there is this obvious fracture inside of me where all of these emotions mix up and are so hard to identify and deal with. It's unfair. Of all those awful men, he was the one who least deserved it.

I don't know why, but I needed to see him again. My soul needed it. One week...it's cruel. Very cruel. What even happened there? I can't stop thinking about this man and the little girl inside of me. Caring and looking out for each others and failing. It's like a tragedy from a fictional story except it's real.

I don't know, maybe I'm too sappy and probably cringe right now...I'm a big mess. It's like another bridge to my past violently collapsed and with it a pillar that saw my construction as a person.

And I'm hurt that I was invited to exactly one wedding in my whole life, yet I buried almost all the people I ever cared about. My maternal grandparents when I was four and six. My maternal great uncle when I was 14. My father when I was newly 19. My favourite paternal uncle a few months later. My dog who's been with me since I was 6-7. Now this kind man.

Now I just have two uncles, my mother, my paternal grandmother who I die to see but can't due to lack of transportation. Two brothers who don't care about me despite how much I try to heal our relationships, fucked by our father. Aside from my brothers, my left family is aging fast and badly and won't stay around for long. When they're gone, I'm alone. Completely, utterly alone. And homeless. But mostly alone.

I live with death. I die more everyday I live. I see it as fair and transformative, usually. I'm not afraid if it. Sometimes I seek it. Sometimes I feel less alone in its arms. I look at it in the eyes and accept it as a part of nature. Raw, indiscriminate, merciful. I don't see it as cruel, except this one time. This was unfair. Why?

And I'm tired. It's like trying and failing to wash again and again a cloth that keeps getting bloodied like the kannerez noz. My infinite task that I'm trapped with is grieving others and swallowing the pain. It hurts that I know more of death than joy. It hurts that I simply know that my life won't be super awful but also won't ever know major joys. I'll just keep burying people. Put band aids emotionally. Move on. Wait and see who's next. I'll continue reading the death records carefully every time I open a newspaper. Sometimes I'll recognise a name vaguely and wonder who it was to me. Sometimes it will be strangers and I will imagine their lives based on the informations.

...I don't even know what happened to the body of that man. I hope his sisters took care of it well. I wish I could've attended the funeral if there was one. Maybe it would've helped. But right now...it's awful.

[inklessletter]

We live in different states now, but I reconnected with an old flame a long time ago after they decided to not speak to me ever again. They actually contacted me after 8 years. We spoke but I was so nervous that I started saying stupid things and they probably thought I was insane. I got carried away because I wanted to tell them everything. Old wounds opened and the blood covered both of us. Loneliness and love can make you do questionable things. They were one of the most influential people in my life, apart from my other half and good friends. They were the Steve to my Eddie.

I would love to speak to them again properly so they do not think I am a bad person. Sometimes I get carried away when I get excited or I do not know how to approach people so I end doing the contrary of what I want to express, which makes me a weirdo. Probably all her friends think I am the worst, which I am not. I would love to keep in touch, but they do not want me in their life. And it hurts so much. Lots of therapy have helped, and moving on with my life, traveling, getting a carreer, house, the whole "adulting".

I have days I think "Do they miss me?", "would they listen to me?", "would they understand how much they hurt me?", "would they, seeing that we are grown ups and mature, decide to give me another chance to have contact?", "would their friends see that I am not a bad person?", "would, would, would…?". I wish I could know those things so I knew I actually mattered to them.

I miss them, and I would love to tell them that I love them very much (platonically), that I am sorry and that they can always count on me if they are ever in trouble. My door will always be open for them.

Hey anon. Thank you for telling me all this, it mustn't have been easy to put such heavy feelings into words. Actually, before I reply to you, I want to tell you that I almost decided not to respond, because I relate to this so goddamn much. And by "so goddamn much" I mean "you're telling my story from the other end." And I'm going to crack myself open for you (even if it hurts so bad).

Something very similar (oddly, terribly similar) happened to me. I also connected with a person a long long time ago and we became best friends. And then more than that. That connection grew stronger until it became toxic and hurtful, for both of us. Sometimes, when I remember those times, I feel like maybe they weren't aware of how deep that relationship cut, how love slowly got stained with fear and sadness. Hurting each other became easier and more common than actually making each other happy. And it is so complicated to sort out because those feelings mix together; it's not like the bad feelings cancel the good ones. They... they become a whole new thing, unable to fix the way they were. Love doesn't go away, and that's what makes it so difficult. Sometimes it just happens, and it's fucked up.

In this story I was the one that got away. I was the one to put an end to it, and I swear to you, after all this years that I did not do that for me. I did that for them. I could have been there longer, I came from hard relationships, I felt like I could endure anything. But understanding that my mere presence in their life was hurting them was killing me. I didn't want to leave my bed, didn't want to talk to them, but I also wanted to all the time, I cried every night. Leaving them destroyed me. But I had to.

Leaving them in the dark was the worst part. I couldn't tell them "hey, I'm coming out of your life for ever because I'm the one who's making you miserable" because they would have worked their way to make me stay, because you know what? I wanted to stay, I wanted it so bad, but I knew that I couldn't, so I hurt them. I didn't tell them the real reason why I left.

And I see you here, wondering if they think about you. I don't know your story, but coming to terms to break such a deep relationship leaves a mark in both of you. A scar with different names and roots. One gives birth to a mental voice that keeps telling you constantly that they're going to leave you behind, and the other keeps remindind you that not only you're not enough to make people happy but that you will eventually hurt them.

As I said, I don't know the details of your story, but if your story is like mine, I can tell you that yes, they do miss you and think about you. They will remember silently when your birthday is, they will wish that you're well and thriving, and surrounded by your loved ones. Because in the end, around those scars are tattoos of the good things imprinted under their skin forever. Not only the bad remains. However, I personally rather not to run into this person again, not because I hate them (I certainly do not), but because we are bound to harm each other even if neither of us want to. And honestly, my heart couldn't take it anymore.

I am so sorry if what I'm telling you doesn't bring you any comfort or happiness. I am also sorry about what you're going through, because it is not easy, always wondering, hurting for so long. I wish you get to heal how you deserve. I wish you meet new people that makes great memories and they fill you with love that eventually your loss hurts a little bit less everyday until they stop hurting.

I truly, honestly, wish you the best. 💔

[theshelbyclan]

Welcome to the chaos, little one

Summary: Giving birth is never easy, especially when it’s a Shelby x Solomons baby…

A/N I’m so slow with requests but a while back the lovely @fandom-puff​requested: Omg sorry to be a pain but I’m a sucker for Shelby chaos 😭😭😭 can I request something linked to A Very Shelby Christmas where the labour of baby Solomons is just as chaotic? But it could also be sweet like the bros finally accepting Alfie bc they all care about YN so much and can’t stand to hear her in pain, all while YN is screaming that she’ll cut off more of Alfie’s dick than his rabbi would even dare to if he ever tried to bed her again 😭😭😭 omg the chaos 👉👈 ily 💓💓 Here we go! This is part 2 to the story A Very Shelby Christmas

Words: 1638

***

“Not now, Y/N,” Arthur groaned. Ada rolled her eyes, remembering keenly when her brother had spoken those iconic words before. “It’s not like I can help it, Arthur,” you spit. 

Polly grabbed you by your arm as you doubled over again, “Alright, sweetheart, it’s time. Come with me…” “Not yet, Aunt Pol,” you panted, “It’s too early.” “The baby doesn’t have it’s own pocket watch yet,” Ada commented matter-of-factly, as she took your other arm. “Fuck!” you called out again as another contraction set in, “Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck!” “Nice.” “Oh, piss off John, you want to try this?” “Not really…” “Tommy!” you turned to the one family member who hadn’t said a word yet, “Get him.” “And who would that be, eh?” he replied in a low voice. “Thomas…” Aunt Polly warned softly. He raised his eyebrows, “Finn? You want Finn at the birth?” “WHY WOULD I WANT MY FUCKING BABY BROTHER HERE?!” Tommy waved a vague hand, “General comfort?” Now Aunt Polly’s eyes flashed with anger, “Thomas! Go get her husband, right now!” Tommy sighed deeply, still trying to ignore the fact that his little sister was now Mrs. Solomons, and said, “Come on boys, let’s get them all together and wet this baby’s head! Leave the women to it.” And you groaned, “Thank you…” Once Alfie would be here, everything would be easier.

*** “Solomons!” “No need to shout, mate, I’m right here, ain’t I?”

Slowly Tommy lit a cigarette and started smoking it, “It concerns my sister.” “You mean the glorious creature that made me the luckiest man on earth by marrying me? My wife? Mrs. Alfie Solomons?” A small twinkle appeared in Alfie’s eyes as he saw Tommy���s jaw tense up just a little at his words. “Yes.” “How is the old lady doing?” Alfie asked conversationally. “In pain,” Tommy replied, “She’s in labour, more to the point.” “You fucking what?” “She’s with her aunt Alfie, she’ll be fine.” Alfie blinked a few times, “Tommy I swear to God if you’re playing some fucking game with me I will shoot you between the eyes right here and now. You’re telling me my wife is in labour and you’re standing there casually smoking a cigarette, waiting for some fucking woman to tell you it’s done?” “Yes,” he nodded, “Well, I was about to go the Garrison. Thought we might bury the hatchet and you could join us.” “Have you lost your fucking mind…” Alfie said slowly, while rubbing his chin. Tommy cleared is throat and with a slight hint of uncertainty in his voice said, “It’s tradition.” “Well, if you’ll pardon my French, fuck your fucking heathen traditions, I’m going to my fucking wife and you are fucking coming with me. And bring your fucking family while you’re at it!”

*** “Why are we here?” John leaned in to Arthur slightly while asking the question in a hushed voice. “Alfie insisted.” “Why?” Arthur raised his voice, “Ask Tommy, alright? I don’t bloody know! I’m guessing it’s another Jewish thing…” On the other side of the door, you were most definitely in labour now. The pain was worse than anything you’d experienced before and you were seriously questioning your sanity at this point. “Aunt Pol?” Ada asked carefully after about an hour. Polly moved over from your side down to your legs and said, “What is it?” “Something’s wrong.” “THOMAS!” Polly bellowed as soon as she had taken a look, “Get me some more towels.”

“What’s happening?” A panicked Alfie asked from the hallway. But Polly pushed him aside and started ordering Finn to boil more water. “Woman!” he demanded, “You fucking tell me.” “She’s bleeding,” she answered quickly, “and I can’t see why.” “What can we do, Pol,” Arthur asked, wild-eyed. “Get a doctor. One we can trust.” Arthur dragged John with him, even before Polly had finished her sentence. “What about Sabini’s men?” John asked, “We were supposed to deal with them tonight. What if they come here?” “Shoot them,” Tommy said simply, as he lit another cigarette in a nervous manner. Inside the room, you were now screaming your head off. Of course you had realised giving birth would be painful, but not like this. The sight of Ada going slightly pale didn’t help either and panic had started mixing in with the general anxiety of the process, so your screams got louder and louder. “Pol…” Ada called out again, “What do I do?” In that moment, Alfie pushed passed her and fell down by your side, “I’m here,” he said softly. “I can see that,” you panted between shouts, “but why? You’re not supposed to be here.” “Out,” Aunt Polly said strictly, “This is no place for men.” And then Tommy walked in as well, averting his eyes and grabbing your hand at the same time. “What?” he said when Polly send him a death-glare, “If Alfie gets to stay, so can I!” “Fucking children…” “Alright, sweetheart,” Polly focused on you again, “This baby needs to come now.” Your eyes grew wide, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” Alfie replied for her, “You’ll be fine. You’re doing brilliant, babes.” “How the fuck would you know!” you shouted out. He shrugged, “Educated guess?” “Had a lot of experience with this, eh?” Tommy grumbled sarcastically. “This,” Ada pointed at the both of them, “This is why men shouldn’t be in here.” “I’m not fucking going anywhere, especially if my wife is in danger.” Tommy just shook his head in reply. “Danger?” you asked suddenly, “What does he mean in danger?” “No danger, love,” Ada soothed you, “if you just push.” And so you pushed, with every bit of strength you had in you. But then a gunshot sounded outside, followed rapidly by another two. Everyone looked up. “John,” Tommy clarified with a single word. “You’re being awfully cavalier about baby brother John getting shot there, Tommy…” Alfie commented. Tommy looked at Alfie with a frown that spoke volumes, “John just shot Sabini’s men. I told him to.” “Oh, good. Saves me the bloody trip.” “I can see some hair!” Ada called out suddenly. “What colour?” Alfie replied at once. And John stuck his head around the corner of the door, “Took care of them.” “We heard,” Aunt Polly grumbled. He hopped from one foot onto the other uncertainly, “Anything else I can do?” “Yeah, you can fuck off mate!” “Alright, I’ll stay, since you asked so nicely.” “John, just get the fuck out!” your sister shouted. The birth was chaos enough as it was and now all these boys were only adding to it instead of helping. And on top of it all, Finn stumbled in practically falling over his own feet with a bucket of water, splashing Aunt Polly in the process. This was more like a madhouse than a family occasion. But John pointed at Alfie indignantly, “He gets to stay!” “Push, Y/N,” Polly urged again, and so you did. “Nice one,” John laughed at Finn, “you literally had one job, mate.” “Mrs. Gray?” Alfie asked carefully, “Sorry to interrupt you there, alright, but I just wanted to quickly check, because you mentioned the hair, yeah? What colour? Because I’m sure I’ll love my son all the same if he’s blond, but I might just need to mentally prepare myself…” And then you finally burst out in anger, “Can you all just shut the fuck up for a second! I’m actually trying to have a fucking baby here!!” “Right, sorry about that love,” Alfie moved closer to you and grabbed your hand again, “Please continue. You’re doing brilliantly, even if he is blond…” Tommy chuckled lightly in the background, which made you even more angry somehow, “Alfie, I swear to God or Adonai or whatever you want to call him, do nottouch me again because remember how you said you couldn’t remember your circumcision?”

“Yes,” Alfie mumbled in mortal fear.

“You will remember when I do it. Remember how you told me of your rabbi doing it when boys are eight days old, because then it heals faster?”

“Yes...” he gulped.

“I’ll make it slow sweetheart. Really fucking slow.”  

“Right,” he said with big eyes, “What exactly would you have me do then except for just standing here like some great big bloody useless piece of shit?”  

“Shut up!”  

“Noted.” *** You weren’t sure what had happened exactly in that last hour. Apparently you’d lost a lot of blood and things had gotten hazy very quickly. Ada and Aunt Polly had stopped talking altogether and they had managed to save you, despite the bickering men in the background. You did remember that Alfie and Arthur had gotten into a fight at one point, but apparently they managed to resolve it quickly when the doctor arrived and they took turns in beating him up because he was no longer needed. Anger really does bring people together.

Of course, none of that really mattered now, because you were now holding a perfect baby right there, in your arms. Finn just stared at the baby, completely in awe. “Not blond…” John sounded a little disappointed. Arthur grinned, “But bloody perfect.” “Gorgeous, just like the mother,” Polly hugged you carefully. “Shelby good looks.” Tommy nodded slowly, with a sense of pride in his voice. “Any names yet?” Ada asked, “I bet you’ve picked them out ages ago, haven’t you?” “I have,” you smiled, “but couldn’t say them out loud yet, so we didn’t really discuss it. It’s bad luck.”

Uncharacteristically, Alfie hadn’t said a word yet.

“Mr. Solomons?” you said, gazing up from your one love to the other, “I believe you have a daughter.” And finally he smiled, deeply and incredibly in love as he held her tight with both hands. And in the most tender way possible he looked at you, grinned and said, “Fucking hell!”

***

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