#��we can separate fantasy from reality!!’

[finrays]

Being a lifelong fan of fantasy will lead very naturally to you having random out of the blue thoughts like “I bet orcs would make really fuckin good barbecue and I’m kinda sad that I’ll never get to have orc barbecue.”

And most people will look at you like you’re crazy and go “Umm, you know orcs aren’t REAL, right?”

But some of them will GET it and will be like “Yeah, I feel the same about halfling breakfast food” and you need to HANG ONTO those people because they’re the ones who will play with you unashamedly, which is a rarer skill than people seem to think it is, and which will feed your soul at all times.

[uncanny-tranny]

On the "darker" side of being comforted by one's immortality (not in the physical, but metaphorical), I've always been comforted by bone needles.

The idea that even after death, you've still been remembered by how you are used. No, bone needles probably weren't used with human bones, but it's a reminder that you aren't just going to... disappear. I'm comforted in the knowledge that I don't end in a "me" but in a "we," in nature. Everything about me is reused material so much more ancient than I am, and knowing that, I feel so much closer to the world.

[requiemforthepoets]

the story we won’t tell is my greatest fantasy ⟢ LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: seven years. you and lando had been together for seven years, but it all went down the drain the moment he decided to come clean about the mistake that he did.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, breakup, cheating, cheater lando, pregnancy, secret child, mentions of nausea and vomiting, fainting, angst, open ending, math is not mathing (but i tried), some inaccuracies, named side characters (except for the reader), single!mom reader, and minor typographical errors

WORD COUNT: 7.2k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this fic is inspired by niki’s song ‘apartment we won’t share,’ ik that we have diff interpretations for the songs, but i interpret it as the way how i wrote this fic. i’m not planning on doing a second part of this, and just leave it an open ending. but if someday i get inspired, i’ll try and make a part 2 for this, though for now, there will be no part 2 for this fic. i will be leaving the ending all up to you. you comments/reblogs is highly appreciated, and i hope that you’ll enjoy this one.

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It had been a long and exhausting week. The lingering ache from your family emergency still tugged at your heart, so to keep off your mind from things, you had spent most of the day sorting through Lando’s things, folding clothes and making sure his suitcase was ready for his flight to another race weekend. It was the kind of task you had done so many times in the last seven years, but this time, it felt heavier, like there was something wrong that you couldn’t quite place.

When Lando returned to Monaco a few days later, you expected him to be his usual vibrant self, but something was off with him. Lando’s eyes seemed heavier, his posture slouched, and smile lacked the spark that you were used to.

“Hey, can we talk for a second?” he asked, voice unusually subdued.

You set down the shirt you had been folding, brows furrowing. “Sure, of course,” you replied, taking a seat on the couch. “What’s on your mind?”

Lando hesitated, hands fidgeting with the edge of his hoodie. He sat across from you, knees bouncing slightly as he stared at the floor. “You know I love you, right? More than anything.”

A faint smile crossed your lips. “I know, Lan, and you made sure to let me know everyday for seven years.”

He looked up briefly, gaze fleeting before dropping back to the floor. “I need to tell you something, I wanted to be completely honest with you…and it’s probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Lando’s tone, demeanor—it was all wrong, and you were getting really nervous by now. “What is it?” you asked, voice quiet, wary.

Lando took a deep breath, his hands now gripping his knees as if to ground himself. “When I was out for a night with the guys a month ago…I messed up.”

Your stomach churned. You didn’t want to interrupt him, waiting for Lando to continue, though every fiber of your being wanted to scream at him, to demand some answers.

“There was…someone at the club that night,” he said, words slow and measured, like he was forcing them out of him. “It was stupid, an honest mistake. I was so drunk, caught up in everything, and I wasn’t thinking.”

You felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. “W-What are you saying?” you managed, voice barely above a whisper.

Lando finally looked at you, eyes glistening. “I accidentally slept with her. It was a one-time thing, I swear, then she called me last week—I don’t even know how she got my number, but she told me that she’s pregnant.

Pregnant.

The words hit you like a freight train. You stared at him, mind completely blank, unable to process what he had just said. Tears began to blur your vision, but you didn’t wipe them away.

“Lando…” you tried to speak up, but your voice cracked.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he said, voice shaking. “I didn’t know what to do. All I could think about was how much I’ve hurt you. But I can’t let my kid grow up without a family. I know how much family means to you, to me. I have to be there for them.”

Your heart shattered into pieces. You could see how much Lando was struggling, the guilt etched into every line of his face. But the pain of his betrayal was unbearable.

“I don’t…I don’t have anything to say anymore, honestly,” you said finally, voice trembling. “Because you had already made your decision—you’re choosing them.”

Lando shook his head vehemently. “No! No, I’m not choosing anyone over you. You’re the love of my life. That hasn’t changed and never will.”

“Lando, you can’t have both,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t stay here knowing all of these. I can’t be a part of this.”

He reached out as if to touch you, but you recoiled. You couldn’t bear his touch right now. “Please love,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I love you. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“You already have,” you said softly, standing up and wiping your tears. “I won’t hold you back, Lando. You need to do what’s right for your child. They deserve a family, and I will not be the reason why they don’t have one.”

You walked to your shared bedroom, your movements mechanical as you began packing your things. Every item you placed in your suitcase felt like a dagger to your chest. This apartment had been your home, your safe haven, and now it was just a place you needed to escape from. Lando just stood in the doorway, watching you pack all of your things, his face pale and tear-streaked. He didn’t try to stop you—he knew that he couldn’t.

When you zipped up your suitcase and grabbed your bag, you turned to him one last time. “Take care of both of them,” you said, voice barely audible. “Be the father they need.

With that, you walked out of the apartment, out of the life you and Lando had built together. You had loved him for seven years, trusted him with every piece of your heart. But now, all you had was the emptiness of what could have been.

The crisp night air bit at your skin as you stood by the entrance of the apartment building, clutching the handle of your suitcase. Your ride to the airport was just a few minutes away, but the wait felt eternal. You stared blankly at the sidewalk, mind is a chaotic mess, the weight of everything that had happened tonight pressing heavily on your chest.

You heard familiar voices approaching before you saw them, their cheerful tones instantly recognizable. Quickly, you wiped at your cheeks, hoping your red-rimmed eyes wouldn’t give you away. Plastering on a smile, you turned towards Max and Kelly as they walked towards the entrance, hand in hand, their expressions bright despite the late hour.

“Hey! What are you doing out here so late?” Kelly asked, brows knitting in concern as she noticed the two large suitcases beside you.

You hesitated, forcing your smile to stay in place. “I, uh, have a family emergency,” you lied smoothly, voice steady even though your heart was pounding. “I need to head back home for a bit.”

Max tilted his head slightly, sharp blue eyes scanning you with the protective gaze you had come to know so well over the years. “Two large suitcases for just a quick trip? That seems a bit much,” he remarked lightly, though his tone carried a hint of suspicion.

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “It’s just…really complicated right now. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, so I packed extra, just in case.”

Kelly’s hand tightened on Max’s arm as she stepped closer to you, her concern evident. “Is Lando not home right now? Why didn’t you tell us earlier? We could’ve helped you pack, we can drive you to the airport.”

You shook your head quickly. “Lan’s already sleeping and I hate to wake him up, he just recently got back from his trip. I also didn’t want to bother you, I’ve already called a car, and it should be here any minute.”

They exchanged a look, clearly unconvinced but respectful enough not to press you further. “Well, we’re not leaving you out here alone,” Max said firmly. “We’ll wait with you until your ride gets here.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the determined set of his jaw told you it would all be just pointless. Instead, you nodded, grateful for their presence even as it made it harder to hold yourself together.

Kelly gave you a warm smile, trying to ease the tension. “It’s late, but P was asking about you earlier,” she said softly. “She’s been begging to have another day with her favorite Auntie.”

Your heart clenched at the mention of Penelope, and you forced your smile to widen. “I’ll miss her so much,” you said, voice thick despite your best efforts. “Tell her I’ll see her soon.”

Kelly’s brow furrowed slightly at your words, but before she could say anything, your ride had pulled up to the curb. Relief and dread washed over you in equal measure. Max then stepped forward immediately, grabbing your suitcases with ease.

“I’ll load these up for you,” he said, tone gruff but kind.

“Thank you,” you murmured, watching as he placed your suitcases in the trunk of the car.

When Max turned back, Kelly pulled you into a tight hug, her familiar perfume bringing a rush of bittersweet comfort. “Take care of yourself, okay?” she whispered. “Whatever’s going on, we’re here for you.”

You nodded against her shoulder, your throat too tight to respond. When she pulled away, Max had stepped forward, wrapping you in a hug that was strong and protective, just like he always was.

“Be back soon, okay? P will be missing her favorite Aunt.” he said, chuckling. “If you need anything, you call me or Kelly. No excuses.”

“I will,” you promised, though you knew that you wouldn’t.

As you stepped back, Kelly offered you a gentle smile. “When you get back, P will be so excited to see you again. You know how much she loves spending time with you.”

The lump in your throat grew, and you could only nod in response. You managed a faint smile as you climbed into the car, giving them one final wave.

“Safe travels,” Kelly called out as Max closed the door for you.

You watched them through the window, standing together on the curb, their figures illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. They waved as the car pulled away, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wave back again. Instead, you turned your gaze forward, the city lights blurring through the tears that silently slid down your cheeks.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

When you finally arrived back home, the weight of the long hour of flight clung to you like a heavy fog. You dragged your suitcases through the familiar front door, exhaustion etched into every inch of your body. The warm, welcoming scent of your childhood home did little to comfort you, instead, it only amplified the ache in your chest. All you wanted was to collapse into your bed and wake up to a world where none of this had ever happened—a world where your heart wasn’t shattered into pieces. But this was your reality, as cruel as it was.

You definitely hadn’t anticipated seeing your older sister, Noelle, and her husband, Mike, in the living room, seated across from your mother, their laughter filling the space. The sound abruptly stopped when they noticed you standing in the doorway, your pale face and tired eyes a huge giveaway of the turmoil you tried so desperately to hide.

“What are you doing here?” Noelle asked, rising from her seatc brows knitting together in concern. “You didn’t tell us that you were coming home.”

Noelle’s brows knit together as she took in your disheveled appearance, her sharp eyes catching every detail—dark circles under your eyes, stiffness in your movements, and the forced smile you mustered.

“Yeah,” you replied quietly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I, uh, needed to come home for a bit.”

Your mother rose from her seat as well, concern etched into her features. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” she asked softly, gaze darting between you and the suitcases you had left by the door.

You hesitated, throat tightening. You had been dreading this moment, knowing full well how much your family adored Lando so much. They had welcomed him with open arms from the start, treating him as one of their own. Now, you were about to break their hearts almost as much as he had broken yours.

“It’s nothing,” you said, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I just needed a change of scenery, that’s all.”

Noelle stood, arms crossed as she gave you a pointed look. “Don’t give me that kind of excuse. You don’t just show up unannounced looking like this for no reason. What really happened?”

You swallowed hard, avoiding Noelle’s gaze. “Lando and I broke up,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

The whole room fell silent, the weight of your words sinking in. Your mother’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide with shock. “Oh, my darling sweetheart,” she breathed.

Noelle, however, was not so subdued. “What?” she exclaimed, voice rising. “What do you mean you broke up? What happened? Did he do something stupid?”

“No!” you said quickly, shaking your head. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?” she pressed, tone sharp.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay composed. “We just…fell out of love. The both of us,” you said, hating the words even as you said then. “We’ve been together for so long, and I guess we just realized that we weren’t the same people years ago anymore. It didn’t make sense to keep on pretending, we’ll just end up hurting ourselves in the long run.”

Noelle’s eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced. “That doesn’t sound like Lando at all. The man adores you so much, even worships the ground you walk on.”

“He did,” you said softly, chest tightening. “And I adored him too. But people change, feelings change.”

Your mother stepped closer, her hands reaching for yours. “Are you sure this is what you wanted?” she asked gently.

You nodded, the lump in your throat growing. “It’s for the best,” you lied, voice cracking slightly.

Mike, who had been silent until now, placed a hand on Noelle’s shoulder. “If this is what she’s decided, we should respect it,” he said quietly, giving you a small, understanding nod.

Noelle just sighed, clearly torn between pressing you for further information and letting it go. Finally, she relented, though her expression was still skeptical.

“I just don’t want you to regret this,” she said, voice more softer now. “You two were so good together.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep you from breaking down. “I’ll be okay, eventually,” you said, words hollow.

Your mother pulled you into a tight embrace, her warmth briefly soothing the ache in your chest. “Whatever happens, we’re always here for you,” she murmured.

“Thanks, mommy,” you whispered, blinking back tears.

As you pulled away, your sister gave you a long look, her expression unreadable. “If he hurt you—” she started, but you cut her off.

“He didn’t,” you said firmly, voice steady despite the storm inside you. “It just didn’t work out. That’s all.”

Noelle still didn’t look convinced, but she nodded, clearly sensing that there’s more to it, and you didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Alright,” she said quietly. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here, okay? We’re all here.”

You gave her a small smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes like it used to. “Thank you,” you said, words barely audible.

Excusing yourself, you retreated to your old bedroom, closing the door behind you gently and sinking onto the comfort of your bed. The familiar surroundings brought no comfort, only a stark reminder of the life you had left behind. While you lay down, staring at the ceiling, the tears finally came, silent and unrelenting.

You had still protected Lando from your family’s anger, even though he did not deserve any of it, and now, you were left to pick up the pieces alone.

The Nausea hits you like clockwork every morning. You found yourself rushing to the bathroom, stomach twisting in protest against seemingly nothing. It had started a few weeks ago, and though you had initially dismissed it as a lingering flu or perhaps the stress with work finally catching up to you, it was becoming harder to ignore. Rest didn’t seem to help you, but you assured yourself that it wasn’t that serious. Besides, you have work to focus on, and that was enough to keep your mind occupied, most of the time.

Two months had already passed since you had left Monaco for good, and life had begun to settle into a new rhythm. Yes, the ache in your chest was still there, but it had been dulled into something manageable. You were slowly rebuilding yourself, piece by piece, though the nausea was an unwelcome distraction.

It was a normal afternoon, while you were curled up on the beanbag chair in your bedroom after a long and tiring day, your phone buzzed. The caller ID that was displayed on the screen made your breath catch for a moment—Kelly. You hesitated before answering, already bracing yourself for the conversation. Her face appeared on the screen, bright and concerned.

“Finally, I caught you!” she said with a smile, though her tone was tinged with worry. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

You shook your head, chuckling and offered her a small smile. “I’m so sorry, Kelly. Things have been so busy with me lately.”

Kelly’s brow furrowed slightly as she studied your face. “You look tired. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, it’s just a silly flu,” you said quickly, but the faint edge in your voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said gently. “Max and I found out about it already, about you and Lando.”

Your chest tightened, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “Oh.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked, expression softening. “We would’ve been there for you. You’ve been through this all alone.”

You sighed, your shoulders sagging. “I didn’t want to drag anyone else into the mess, and I didn’t even know what to say.”

Kelly’s voice grew firmer. “You didn’t have to say anything, we would’ve understood. Max is furious with Lando, you know. So is Carlos. I even have to break the two of them away from Lando.”

Your heart sank at the thought. “Please don’t be mad at him. It’s not worth it.”

Kelly shook her head, lips pressing into a thin line. “It is worth it. What Lando did to you was unforgivable. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured, though the words felt hollow. “I’ll move on, eventually.”

Kelly’s expression softened again, and she leaned closer to the camera. “I just wish you’d let us help you. You know we love you, right? You’ve always been family to us.”

“I know,” you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes.

Her face brightened slightly. “But speaking of family, someone’s been dying to talk to you!”

Before you could respond, the screen shifted, and Penelope’s little face appeared, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. “AUNTIE!” she exclaimed, voice high with excitement.

”Hi, P!” You said, heart aching at the sight of her.

“I miss you so much!” she said, pouting slightly. “When are you coming back? Mommy says you’re not in Monaco anymore.”

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain. “I miss you too, darling. I just…I had to be somewhere else for a while.”

“But you’ll come back, right?” she asked, her big eyes staring at you expectantly.

You swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “We’ll see, P. For now, you have to be good for your mommy and Maxie, okay?”

“I’m always good!” she declared, puffing out her chest.

Kelly’s voice chimed in from the background. “That’s debatable,” she teased, earning a giggle from Penelope.

You couldn’t help but smile, even as your chest tightened. “You’re the best, P. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Okay!” she said brightly before turning to Kelly. “Mommy, can we call Auntie again tomorrow?”

Kelly returned to the screen, giving you a knowing look. “We’ll let her rest for now, P. But yes, we’ll call Auntie again soon.”

“Promise?” Penelope asked, her eyes wide.

“Promise,” Kelly said, smiling before turning back to you. “Take care of yourself, okay? And if you need anything, anything, just call me.”

You nodded. “Thank you so much, Kelly. I will.”

After ending your facetime call with Kelly, you stumbled into the bathroom, your stomach churning violently. The moment you stepped inside, you collapsed in front of the toilet, heaving uncontrollably. It felt as though your insides were twisting, every muscle tensing in protest. When it finally subsided, you shakily wiped your mouth, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You looked pale—paler than usual, and eyes were bloodshot from the strain.

It took you a couple of minutes to compose yourself before heading to the kitchen, hoping the water would help settle your spinning head. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, you poured the water, but as you lifted it to your lips, another wave of dizziness hit you. This time, it was stronger. Your grip faltered, and the glass slipped from your hand, shattering loudly as it hit the floor.

The sharp noise brought Noelle and Mike running into the kitchen. They froze when they saw you swaying on your feet, barely managing to stay upright. You blinked, trying to focus, but everything around you was growing hazier. Before you could say anything, your legs gave way beneath you, and you crumpled to the floor, your vision blackening as you began to lose consciousness. Noelle was by your side in an instant, her hands gentle but urgent as she checked your pulse.

“Don’t worry, she’s alive,” Noelle muttered, voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. “Mike, call an ambulance now!”

Mike didn’t hesitate, rushing to grab his phone and calling for help. You could hear Mike’s voice in the background, muffled and frantic as he spoke to the operator.

“Yes, we need an ambulance,” Mike said, tone clipped, almost too calm for the situation. “My sister-in-law collapsed, and we need help immediately.”

Noelle’s voice cut through your haze, trying to keep you steady. “Come on, stay with me, okay? Just hold on.”

You couldn’t respond, couldn’t even make a sound, but you could hear them both, voices blending with the rush of adrenaline in the air. Mike’s footsteps moved swiftly, his voice growing more distant as he spoke with the ambulance on the phone.

The minutes that followed felt like hours. The sound of the ambulance siren grew louder, and relief flooded Noelle’s face as the paramedics rushed into the house. They quickly assessed the situation, asking Noelle questions about your symptoms and recent health conditions.

“She’s been experiencing dizziness for weeks now,” Noelle explained. “She’s stubborn, didn’t want to see a doctor. This morning she was nauseous, and now she’s fainted.”

The paramedics nodded, lifting you onto the stretcher carefully. Noelle and Mike followed closely as they carried you out to the ambulance. “I’m coming with her to the hospital,” Noelle said firmly, climbing into the back of the ambulance without hesitation.

Mike stayed behind, watching the ambulance doors close with a worried expression. “Alright, I’ll be informing your mother when she arrives, but call me as soon as you know something,” he said to Noelle before they drove off.

Inside the ambulance, Noelle held your hand tightly, her fingers trembling against your own. “You’re going to be fine,” she said, though her voice was thick with concern. “Just breathe, okay? We’re almost there.”

You couldn’t focus on what Noelle was saying. The world had gone dark around you, only the pulse of your own heartbeat reminding you that you were still there, still fighting to stay conscious.

The steady beeping of the machines was the first thing you registered as you slowly opened your eyes, the sterile smell of the hospital room making everything feel surreal. Blinking against the harsh fluorescent light, your gaze landed on your sister, Noelle, sitting in one of the chairs beside your bed, her expression a mixture of worry and relief when she noticed you stirring.

“Noelle,” you croaked, voice hoarse from sleep and dryness.

She shot up almost instantly, coming to your side and helping you adjust into a sitting position in the hospital bed. Her hands were gentle but firm as she propped a pillow behind your back.

“Hey, take it easy, okay?” she said softly. She reached for a bottle of water on the bedside table, unscrewing the cap before handing it to you. “Here, drink up. Small sips.”

You followed her instructions, taking slow, careful sips, the cool water soothing your parched throat. “What happened? Why am I in the hospital?” you asked weakly, mind still foggy.

“You fainted in the kitchen,” Noelle explained, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You scared the hell out of us. Mike called the ambulance, and I came with you here. Mom and Mike are both on their way. They’ll be here soon.”

Before you could respond, there was a knock at the door, a doctor entered, her expression professional but kind. Noelle immediately stepped aside, letting her approach you.

“I’m glad that you’re awake now, my dear,” she began, smiling at you. “We’ve run some tests to determine the cause of your fainting and other symptoms.”

You nodded slowly, stomach churning with apprehension. Noelle moved closer to your side, her presence grounding you.

“We’ve reviewed your results,” she continued, glancing at her clipboard before meeting your eyes. “The dizziness, nausea, and vomiting you’ve been experiencing for the past weeks are all consistent with early pregnancy symptoms. Congratulations, you’re seven weeks pregnant!”

Pregnant. Pregnant.

For a moment, the words did not register. The hospital room seemed to grow impossibly still, the doctor’s voice fading into the background as you processed the news. Seven weeks. The timeline clicked into place, and your heart sank as realization hit. Seven weeks pregnant. You could hear the faint ringing in your ears, a sharp contrast to the quiet gasp from Noelle beside you.

“I…I’m sorry, what?” you managed to stammer, voice shaking.

“You’re pregnant, dear,” the doctor repeated gently. “Seven weeks along. Your vitals look good, but it’s important to start prenatal care as soon as possible. We’ve referred you to an OB-GYN who will guide you through the process and answer any questions you might have.”

You nodded numbly, unable to form any coherent response. The doctor continued to explain what you should expect in the coming weeks—dietary recommendations, plenty of rest, and the importance of regular check-ups. But her words felt very distant, as if you were hearing them through a fog.

When the doctor finally left, you were left staring blankly at the sterile white wall, the weight of the revelation crushing you. Seven weeks. You did the math in your head, mind racing. By now, you know that the woman Lando had gotten pregnant would be around three months into pregnancy.

Tears began to well up in your eyes, the enormity of the situation was starting to overwhelm you. You were carrying Lando’s child. That man had broken and shattered your heart into pieces, and who had chosen someone else, was now bound to you in a way that you could not escape.

“Noelle,” you whispered, voice breaking.

She knelt beside the bed, taking your trembling hands in hers. “I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m here, okay?” she said softly, her tone steady and reassuring.

“I don’t know what to do,” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. How am I supposed to handle this?”

Noelle’s grip on your hands tightened slightly, eyes full of concern. “I don’t have all the answers,” she admitted, “but you don’t have to go through this alone. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll be here for you—Mom and Mike, too. We’ll all figure this out together, okay?”

Two years had already passed, and your life was a world away from where it had been. Astrid, your little ray of sunshine, was turning two today. She was the center of your universe, your whole life, her giggles filling every corner of the house you had worked so hard to call your own. It was a beautiful home, just three doors away from your mother’s home, ensuring that Astrid was always surrounded by the love and warmth of your family.

Noelle and Mike, ever the doting aunt and uncle, spoiled her endlessly. They brought over toys, books, and clothes—sometimes more than you thought Astrid needed, but you couldn’t deny the happiness on Astrid’s face when they arrived with surprise in hand.

It’s true that your pregnancy and the early days of motherhood had not been easy, but you were able to survive. More than that, you thrived. With a promotion to a top position at work and a comfortable life for you and Astrid, you finally felt at peace. The past—Lando, was no longer a wound, but now a distant memory you had learned to accept. Your family also had long stopped asking questions about the details of your breakup, and while they knew Lando was Astrid’s father, they never dwelled on it. Astrid had all the love she needed, and that was what mattered most.

But there was one part of your life you had not reconciled yet—Max and Kelly. Despite keeping in touch with Kelly through regular facetime calls, you had managed to keep Astrid a secret. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them, it was just too complicated to explain everything. It was already enough that they found out what Lando had done that caused your breakup.

However, when Kelly had mentioned that they would be spending their vacation in your home country and would be arriving the day before Astrid’s second birthday, you had a window of opportunity. It was time to take a step forward. So you had invited them to what you described as a simple gathering at your home. You didn’t explicitly tell them that it would be Astrid’s birthday party—just that it would be a chance to catch up and spend time together.

As the day drew closer, you found yourself torn between excitement and anxiety. What would they say when they realized the gathering that you had talked about was actually a celebration for your daughter? Would they feel hurt that you had kept Astrid a secret for so long?

These thoughts lingered as you finalized the decorations, baked Astrid’s favorite cake, and prepared the house for your guests. But when you looked at Astrid, happily playing with her toys in the living room, the doubt began to fade. This was your life now—a life filled with love and laughter, even if it was different from what you had once imagined.

The backyard was a colorful dream, adorned with streamers, balloons, and a banner that read, Happy 2nd Birthday! and Astrid’s favorite colors painted every corner of the space, and the laughter of children filled the air as they played games and ran around laughing. Astrid herself was the picture of happiness, twirling in her pretty dress, a bright smile on her face as she clung to her grandmother’s hand.

You excused yourself from the backyard, your hands brushing against your dress nervously as you stepped back into the kitchen to double-check the desserts. Rows of cupcakes sat neatly on the counter, each one topped with swirls of frosting and sprinkles. You picked one up, turning it slightly to make sure everything was perfect. Then the doorbell rang.

Your heart skipped a beat, a wave of nerves rushing through you. It had to be Max, Kelly, and Penelope. You wiped your hands on a towel, took a deep breath, and walked to the front door, steadying yourself before opening it. The moment you opened the door, cheerful shouts of ‘surprise!’ had greeted you. Kelly was the first to throw her arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug.

“It’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed, stepping back as Max swooped in for a hug.

“You’ve been hiding!” Max teased lightly, squeezing your shoulder before stepping aside to let Penelope in.

“Hi Auntie!” Penelope chirped, small arms wrapping tightly around your waist as she hugged you with all her might.

You bent down to her level, pulling her into a proper hug. “Hi, darling. I missed you so much!”

Penelope pulled back, her face beaming. “I missed you too, Auntie! Can I see your house?”

Before you could respond, the sound of children’s laughter drifted in from the backyard, catching their attention. Kelly tilted her head curiously.

“What’s going on back there?” she asked, brows furrowed. “That sounds like a lot of kids.”

Max glanced at you, an eyebrow raised. “Is this the simple gathering you mentioned?”

A nervous smile tugged at your lips as you stepped back, gesturing for them to follow. “Come on, follow me.”

You led them through the hallway and out through the glass doors that lead to the backyard, where the yard was buzzing with activity. Children were playing games, some of them are having the time of their life on the bouncy castle, parents chatted near the tables of food, and Astrid was in the middle of it all, her laughter carrying above the noise.

Penelope gasped in delight. “Can I please go play?” she asked, bouncing on her toes as she looked up at Max and Kelly.

Kelly nodded with a smile. “Of course, go ahead.”

Penelope dashed off, her excitement blending seamlessly with the other children. Kelly and Max, however, stood frozen, their eyes scanning the scene. It wasn’t long before they realized that this was not just any gathering.

“Is this…” Kelly began, voice trailing off.

“A birthday party?” Max finished for her, tone laced with confusion.

You nodded slowly, your smile nervous. “Yes. Actually,” you glanced at Astrid, who was now in your mother’s arms, laughing as your mother tickled her sides. “It’s her birthday party.”

Their confusion deepened as they followed your gaze. Max opened his mouth to speak, but Kelly beat him to it. “Her?” she asked, voice soft, almost uncertain.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over to your mother and gently took Astrid from her arms. Astrid immediately snuggled into your shoulder, her tiny hands clutching at your dress as she peeked at the newcomers. Turning back to Max and Kelly, you smiled, though your heart was racing.

“Guys, this is Astrid,” you said softly. “My daughter.”

For a moment, there was only silence as Max and Kelly processed your words. Kelly’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide, while Max stared at you, his expression a mix of shock and something deeper.

“You have a daughter?” Kelly finally asked, voice trembling slightly.

You nodded, holding Astrid a little tighter. “I do.”

Max’s voice was careful, almost cautious. “Where’s her father?”

The question hung heavy in the air, heavy and unspoken truths lingering just beneath the surface. You looked down at Astrid, avoiding Max’s gaze as you shifted your weight uncomfortably.

“He’s…not in the picture anymore,” you said quietly.

Max’s eyes narrowed slightly, jaw tightening. It was clear he had pieced everything together, but decided not to press further. Instead, his gaze softened as he looked at Astrid, who was now peering curiously at him. Kelly stepped forward, her initial shock melting into warmth.

“Can I hold her?” she asked gently.

You nodded, carefully handing Astrid over. Kelly cradled her as if she had been waiting for this moment forever, her face lighting up as Astrid stared at her with wide, curious eyes.

“She’s so beautiful,” Kelly murmured, voice thick with emotion.

Max crouched down slightly to Astrid’s level, his serious expression softening. “Hey there, little one,” he said, playfully covering his eyes with his hands and then revealing them. “Peekaboo!”

Astrid blinked at him, tiny lips began curling into a smile as Max covered his face with his hand again and revealed it with a loud ‘boo!’ Astrid’s laughter was immediate and infectious, filling the air and making Max grin wider.

“She likes you,” Kelly said with a laugh, glancing at Max as she bounced Astrid gently.

Max looked up, his expression a mix of amusement and something more tender. “What can I say? Kids love me.”

Penelope had run up to you with little Astrid in tow, face glowing with excitement. “Auntie, can Astrid play with me? I promise that I’ll take care of her,” she said, her little hands clasped together as she gave you the most earnest look.

You smiled, crouching down to their level. “Alright,” you said gently, brushing a strand of hair out of Astrid’s face. “But remember, she’s still very small, so be careful with her, okay?”

“I promise!” Penelope chirped. “Come on Astrid, let’s play!” she took Astrid’s hand and led her back towards the group of children.

Once they were settled, you turned to Max and Kelly, who were waiting nearby, their expressions a mix of curiosity and seriousness. You gestured towards the patio table, and the three of you moved to sit down. For a brief moment, there was an awkward silence, only broken by the distant sound of children laughing.

It was Max who spoke first. “So,” he began, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, “are you going to tell Lando about Astrid?”

“No.” you said firmly, meeting his gaze.

Kelly’s brows furrowed. “No?” she repeated, voice a mix of confusion and concern. “You don’t plan on telling him that he has a daughter?”

“Telling him that he has a daughter is not included in my plans,” you said quietly, glancing briefly at Astrid, who was now sitting on the grass with Penelope, giggling as they played.

Max exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. “But why?” he asked, voice steady but tinged with disbelief. “Don’t you think he has the right to know?”

You looked at Max, expression calm but resolute. “He had already made his choice and I made mine,” you said softly. “By the time I found out that I was pregnant, he was already committed to building a life with someone else—for their child. I’m not that ignorant, I’ve seen the articles, Max. It’s clear as daylight that he’s happy with them, he’s being the father that the child needs.”

Max sighed. “This isn’t about the articles or public perception. It’s about Astrid. She has the right to know who her father is, and Lando has a right to know about her.”

Kelly nodded in agreement with what had Max just said. “And what happens when she grows up and starts asking questions?”

“I’ll tell Astrid,” you said. “I’ll tell her when the time is right, I’ll explain everything to her. But for now, I’m protecting her. I don’t want her to feel like she was a second thought or an obligation. I don’t want to make her feel unwanted.”

Max shook his head slightly. “It’s not fair to Astrid, or to Lando,” he said, voice low. “He deserves to know. He deserves the chance to be a part of her life.”

“And what if Lando doesn’t want to be a part of her life, Max?” you said, voice cracking slightly and gripping the edge of the table. “What if yes, I ended up telling him, and he rejected her? What if I ruin the good thing he has now, for nothing? I’m not going to be the person who will bring chaos to my daughter’s life by trying to force something that might not even work, and I most definitely won't be the one who will tear Lando’s life apart just to ease my conscience.”

Kelly reached out, placing a hand gently on yours. “I understand that you’re scared,” she said softly. “And I understand why you’ve made your choice. But you don’t have to do this alone. Whatever you decide, we’ll support you. But please, just think about it, okay?”

You nodded, though you knew that your decision was firm and wouldn’t change. “Thank you,” you said quietly, looking between Max and Kelly. “I just need you both to trust me on this one. Trust that I’m doing what’s best for Astrid.”

Max hesitated, then finally nodded. “We’ll be keeping this just between the three of us,” he said, though there was a note of reluctance in his voice. “But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find us.”

Kelly smiled faintly, her grip on your hand tightening briefly before she let go. “Astrid is lucky to have you as her mother,” she said, voice warm. “She’s amazing and gorgeous, you know. She’s already so full of life.”

You smiled softly at Kelly’s words. “She is,” you said. “She really is.”

Glancing back towards the yard, you watched Astrid and Penelope play together, the sound of Astrid’s uncontrollable laughter filled the air, warming your heart in a way that words could never even describe. Her happiness was infectious, an important reminder of everything good in your life despite the path it had taken to get where you are now. But as your eyes lingered on her, there was a familiar ache that settled deep in your chest.

You couldn’t deny it—Astrid’s features were very unmistakable. Her eyes, so full of wonder and innocence, were a mirror image of Lando’s. Every now and then, when she turned her head a certain way or smiled just so, it was like seeing a glimpse of Lando again. The resemblance was undeniable, and it only grew stronger as Astrid got older. It was a bittersweet reality you carried with you every day.

Yet, despite the pain that came with those reminders, you were happy. Truly, deeply happy. Astrid was surrounded by love—a love so abundant that it filled every corner of her little world. She didn’t need anything else, not when you, your whole family, and everyone who cherished her. That love was enough, it had to be enough.

Letting Lando go was not easy. It had taken every ounce of strength you had to accept that the life you once imagined with him was not meant to be. But you had done it, you had learned to let him go. You had made peace with the fact that you were not the one he chose, and the woman you would never be was the one who was not his.

Someday, you knew, the time might come when you were ready to tell Lando about Astrid, ready to introduce him to the child you both brought into this world. But that day was not today. For now, you would let him continue living the life he had chosen, with the person he had chosen. You wished him nothing but happiness, even if it wasn’t with you.

You also hoped that Lando would one day find everything he was searching for, that he would feel fulfilled and content in the life he was building. Even if it hurts, you wanted that for him, and while he was busy living that life, the daughter you both would not raise together would still be here—waiting for him, even if he didn’t know it yet.

The breakup, heartache, and the choices you made were not what you had wanted, but they were what you needed. Sometimes, it’s hard to accept the fact that love is not enough to keep two people together, and that’s okay. It didn’t make the love you once shared with Lando any less real.

But for now, everything else could wait.

[wordsmithic]

unpopular opinion but with the new tide of Greek mythology stories and retellings, Greek Cultural Sensitivity Readings are absolutely necessary. We are in 2024, with thousands of fics and retellings out there!! How is this not a thing yet?? There's vast improvement one can achieve by working professionally on their text with a Greek. I've seen it so many times!!

Also, duh, I'm offering the service BUT I want you to know that the situation with the inaccuracies of SERIOUS works is so dire that initially I didn't even do it for money. As a writer I just wanted to... fix things, to set a new standard for writers and the industry that sells us the most heavily Americanized pop-culture material and passes it as "authentic vibes of Greek mythology". (And of course there were writers who wanted to do right by their story and they had reached out to me. So kudos to them as well!)

Okay, but why does Cultural Sensitivity Reading make a vast difference and it's not just smoke and mirrors?

As a Greek, I am tired of well-meaning writers and authors butchering very basic elements of my culture. It's not their fault exactly, since they were raised in another culture with a different perspective. And nobody clued them in on how different Greek culture is from theirs, so writers sometimes assume that their culture is the default and they project that into ancient Greece. (Even published professionals like Madeline Miller have written "UK or US in antiquity" (with a very colonialist flavor) instead of writing "Ancient Greece". (Looking at you, Circe!)

Even writers who researched a lot before coming to me still had a lot of misinformation or wrong information in their text, easily verifiable by the average Greek. Again, not their fault. They can only access certain information, which does not include Greek scholarly work and scientific articles that DO offer valuable context.

Translation, accuracy, and meaning: If you ever wondered what a word means or how to pronounce it, here's your chance! There are Greeks like me who are knowledgeable and have a keen interest in antiquity and they will be able to read and compare ancient texts, and dive deeper into the work of Greek scholars regarding those texts.

If you want to create new words, you can do that as well! (It doesn't always work, but we can try. Greek is a really rich language and has a word about everything) If you use existing words, I can help you separate reality from fantasy in the context of your story.

(Do not assume we Greeks are ignorant of our heritage, or that we don't know how to research! Our archaeology sector is huge and archaeological museums are closer to most of us than your local Target is to you)

I guarantee there are things you never thought about Greece and the Mediterranean - from the ancient to the modern era. Sprinkling elements like phrases, types of interactions, customs, songs, instruments, dances, etc , into your text will make your text absolutely rich in culture.

Names matter!!! The genders of the names matter, diminutives matter (If I see one more "Perse" for Persephone I will claw my eyes out along with a few thousand Greeks), naming traditions matter!!! In many cases you should not even use a diminutive!!

You will be able to write about a foreign culture easily! Because of the continuity of Greek culture, you can even write a few more recent Greek elements to fill in the gaps. I can make sure they are not mismatched, and they will complement your ancient setting. I have observed a few things I didn't know we had since antiquity, but they make sense because our land has certain characteristics.

Non-Greek writers often miss the whole context of Greek culture! Do you know how Greek respect towards deities and parents looks like? What tones we use when we talk to our elders? When to use honorific plural - if your setting is more modernized?

Oh, and please let's avoid caricatures when describing Greeks?? (even fantasy Greeks) There can be heavy exotisation and odd descriptions of Greeks, as if we are another species. Even in published works. For many western writers it's difficult to catch, unfortunately.

The whole process is actually way easier than you think. You send me a text, I make notes and then we have some discussion on your vision.

It's always okay to seek guidance from the locals! You are not "guilty" when you admit you don't know! How can you know if you don't ask?? You can't imagine what relief and "πάλι καλά!!!" I read/see from other Greeks when I tell them another foreigner is using me for cultural sensitivity? Greeks want you to seek help and will NOT shame you for it!

(On the contrary, you have no idea how many eye-rolls Greeks do when they see a blatantly wrong thing in a story... Which has happened pretty often for many years now. Can we do better as an industry?? Please???)

You can send me a personal message to share your story, or ask what this whole cultural sensitivity thing is all about, or ask about what I have done so far and how I can help. But for the love of all that's good, don't let your story be another "generic greek myth retelling"! And don't let others sell you their generic greek myth retellings!!

[acstation206]

I messed up. /j

Introducing...

THE AMAZING DIGITAL ARCADE PARTY!

Yeah, that's right, I caved in.

Basically the exact same show except its established lore and setting is more largely inspired by archive compilations of popular vintage arcade games of the 80s and 90s such as Pac-Man’s Arcade Party, as well as the different takes within the sci-fi / fantasy genre by the likes of Wreck-It Ralph, Tron: Legacy, and Infinity Train. 

==

= BACKGROUND (in a nutshell) 💿 =

In an attempt to save their dying business, C&A developed and manufactured the first hybrid arcade game of its own kind that combined other popular arcade games and home console games with virtual reality. However, just as the company’s luck was turning around, numerous lawsuits from game companies by the likes of Nintendo and families were filed against the company for their product, from apparently “ripping-off” Super Mario Bros. in its entirety to causing many children to either inexplicably fall unconscious or suffer from amnesia after the cabinet’s headset was put on. Just then, as C&A announced they’ll be temporarily recalling the product to fix its issues, a shocking discovery was already made by investigators that would soon bring the company to its demise: the game’s AI had gone rogue, and once a human mind dies from losing one of the games in any way, they are either permanently reincarnated as a personified cartoon character of themselves or just straight up die in real-life depending on the outcome.

==

= ART N’ STUFF 🎨 =

(might wanna make a separate masterpost for that in the future but oh well)

NES Ragatha

Pomni and Caine redesigns

==

= Q&As and BOUNDARIES (sort of) 🎙️ =

"Are there any plans to make a full webcomic out of this?" - Uhhhh, mayyybe? I'm not entirely sure, honestly. While there may be a few side comics and artwork from my head I want to get out sometime, I don't really have much plans for this AU that'll be worth telling a full story right now since I feel there is plenty of things that I've yet to figure out and develop in a matter of time, particularly the setting and characters (especially considering the OG show itself has only 2 episodes out as of writing and I only have mobile apps like ibisPaint X to make this all possible at the moment).

"Can I make fanfics and OCs for this AU?" - Of course! I've seen a lot of incredible things from the community, especially in regards to alternate universes, so you're absolutely more than welcome to share whatever's on your mind as long as your heart's in the right place. I can't really guarantee I'll see every bit of it since I do have some personal biz of mine to take care of at any moment, but I'll be happy to reblog them whenever I get the chance. Just tag me and we all good. :)

"Are there any canon ships in this AU?" - Yes. Yes, there are. Well, only BunnyDoll (Jax x Ragatha) to be specific. HOWEVER, you are free to ship whoever you want here! Showtime (Caine x Pomni), ButtonBlossom (Pomni x Ragatha), it's all okay. The choice is yours, a romantic buffet! (Plus, depending on the quality of my writing, I'm not even planning to dwell too much into it for now, aside from the side comics that will.)

==

That's all for right now. Enjoy! :)

[anomalys-bane]

Okay I need to say it. I think the popularity of romance books/smut/romance tropes like physically + sexually abusive and controlling abusive male leads is partly hindering the progress of women's rights with it's use of Soft Power narratives, or power through desirableness. Yes it's all fiction, yes women should read what they want, yes it's part of a greater culture of female socialization, yes its good that women are staying away from irl men, but i think we need to talk about it more. For one thing, i wont say it started the recent boom of violent sex culture but it definitely promotes it as many girls' first exposure to sexual media is through romances and smut, and not to mention how pornified its become along with everything else. And it's not just fiction because people are doing this in real life, with real people. 'Id never want this in real life but I'd definitely roleplay it' I see that one a LOT.

With the popularity of booktok and smut there's been men who are absolutely disgusted yes, but only because they think women shouldn't have drives at all, or they're mad as shit about the fact that only good looking sexy men get Abusing Women Privileges. And they're disgruntled about the popularity of the bad boy trope. Like look at this random reddit example which echoes male sentiments I've been seeing absolutely everywhere

A significant other portion of men support this, because if you're a pos misogynist all you have to do is say you support women's choices to like what they want and you'll have both the opportunity to abuse them without consequence and get praised for it. If there is actually somehow a man uncomfortable with it he's gonna get reassured by thousands of feminists on how some women love getting abused!! Consent!! Feminism choice empowerment!! It's crazy out here.

There are a lot of women gloating over how mad men are over romance/smut while not realizing how we're reinventing misogyny in new desirable ways every day. And just how many men are going to take advantage of this recent boom. Misogyny is misogyny is misogyny. At the end of the day It doesn't matter that we can separate reality from fiction and that women can like certain things or that it's more nuanced than we think. The damage is done, for women as a group, it keeps us right in our patriarchal chains.

Liberal feminism is an actual plague. Literally how are we going to condemn horrible acts of oppression then turn around and say it's okay as long as you get off to it. Can you imagine doing this with any other movement?? Imagine if a major talking point in anti racism was that poc deserve rights and respect, but if they consumed extremely racist media willingly and/or they choose to degrade themselves for a white person it's just a fantasy? and just fiction? and actually really empowering? and actually is anti racism and reclamation? and how absolutely dare you tell poc what to like?? YOU are the actual racist here.. Seriously.

[sgiandubh]

In which the Music Manager strikes again

I very honestly think it's time to try and sort out a very complicated question, that bothered this side of the fandom for a long while.

This comment summed it up perfectly and I promised a separate post to discuss some of it, bearing in mind that this is Just My Opinion:

I think the early days on this side of the fandom were the best of times and the worst of times, too. The best of times, because shippers had daily receipts and renewed confirmation. The worst of times, because fanfic or just wishful thinking did find a way to sometimes overlap with what obviously already was a very complicated reality.

By the time the Dreaded MC reached our shores, the shockwave was cosmic. People cried. People quit. Former friends started bitching on and about each other. But once the first shock was taken full front in, some tried to make sense of it, as I have already written. I maintain my position which is to never judge or discuss anything I was not a direct part of, and so I choose to remain silent on all the things that were done to that extent. It is not my call and it is not my intention. My intention is to try and correct some fantasies and plain untruths that have been taken for granted for many, many years, in here.

I have already explained here why the Ibiza marriage is, at worst, fanfic and at best, some sentimental-binding handfast ceremony on the beach, possibly: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/772076510404395008/hola-hola-pregunta-de-novata-asombrada-de-veras?source=share

To back it up, here are the applicable regulations, as per the UK Government itself:

[Source: https://www.gov.uk/world/organisations/british-consulate-ibiza]

The only problem is, you can get married in a British consulate if and only if the host country's legislation gives permission for it:

If you click on the link below, you will not find Spain on the list of the countries where a consular marriage can be arranged. The reason for it is that Spain does allow same-sex marriage (which is the main reason this type of ceremony is still being performed as such, in a handful of British consulates across the world) and also because it does allow two foreign citizens to marry on its territory, provided certain requirements are being met.

[Source: https://www.gov.uk/guidance/getting-married-at-a-british-embassy-high-commission-or-consulate]

This is where things become impossible for that Ibiza marriage scenario, because there is no way they could have arranged a Tijuana marriage of sorts. While Spain does allow foreigners to marry on its territory, it leaves to the provinces the power to set the criteria of doing so. For Ibiza, you have to be a legal resident (which means, to have a residence permit issued by the Spanish authorities) there for at least two years prior to the date of your marriage:

This leaves, in theory, the possibility of a legally binding Catholic marriage, celebrated only in church, since C is a Catholic herself and, unlike the case of Anglicans (Presbyterians, in the US) not needing a prior UK civil marriage certificate (something which in theory, would have extended also to S):

[Source, for both of the above: https://www.hitched.co.uk/wedding-planning/organising-and-planning/getting-married-in-ibiza/]

But we know that never happened, unfortunately. And we know it because on that damned Marriage Certificate both C and McGill wrote and signed, is that horrible little word: 'single'.

Sorry for hurting your eyes with this. Some say the best way to overcome your greatest fear is to face it - I wholeheartedly agree with them:

[Source: https://www.tumblr.com/hurleyburly/649158609642618880/arrived-this-morning-april-22nd-by-post-from-the?source=share - I used this particular one, because the legal watermark is very obvious on it and also, because it is the easiest to look for and find].

Before the 2004 reform of the UK marriage and civil partnership legislation (enforced starting December 2005), the appropriate mention on a marriage certificate was either 'bachelor' or, accordingly, 'spinster'. That meant none of the two future spouses were married before. This has been further clarified by the Registrar General of England and Wales, acting as sole competent authority in that field, in September 2005:

[Source: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/4141996.stm]

Therefore, all of the above beg the question: which scenario applies?

1. SC got married in Ibiza, the USA, or Atlantis (doesn't matter, legal case in point is entirely the same). In that case, C would have been already married to S, on August 10, 2019. That would make her a bigamous woman. The punishment for bigamy, in the UK, is 6 months (convicted) to 7 years (indicted) in prison and a fine of £5,000, according to the Offences against the Person Act 1861:

[Source: https://penmansedgwick.com/bigamy/]

On top of it, writing 'single' on that paper without it being legally true would also qualify her as a perjury. In the UK, the punishment for perjury, in the special case of marriage procedures, is 2 years in prison if convicted and up to 7 years in prison, if indicted, plus a fine of £100, according to the Perjury Act 1911:

[Source: https://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/Geo5/1-2/6]

Does anybody seriously (I repeat: seriously) think C or anyone else involved, for that matter, would have risked that? Now, I know the integrity of the Authorized Person and/or the GRO people has been questioned. I am not going there, because I was not involved in that entire business. Corrupt officials exist everywhere, after all, and that is not entirely out of the question. However, without the misdemeanor being denounced as such, you can bet no investigation has been conducted on that particular point. As such (and one last time, for I shall not discuss this anymore, lest we'd have news about it) the Dreaded MC is still a legal paper, producing legal effects. You can choose to ignore it and go your merry way, but you cannot tear it apart in a fit of rage and hide the shreds under the carpet. It is there and it happened. What possessed her and why exactly, we might never know.

Finally, if C would have been (secretly) married to S (in Ibiza, the USA or Atlantis - legal case in point still the same) and divorced before August 2019, the appropriate wording would have been 'previous marriage dissolved', with no mention of any other specifics. The same we'd have if... but I'll stop here.

2. Second scenario and what I think might have happened (in Ibiza, the USA, or Atlantis - doesn't matter): a symbolic blessing ceremony, with no legally binding effects. There is an entire thriving industry of it, yes, in Ibiza:

[Source: https://www.hitched.co.uk/wedding-planning/organising-and-planning/getting-married-in-ibiza/]

Again, you draw your own conclusions. I am not here to fuck your Sunday evening chamomile/Monday morning coffee to shambles. But I am here to tell you and all those idiots across the street that we are not naive and the fantasy, as wonderful as it might be, is exactly that: a dream. In real life, that horribly dull place with mortgages and taxes and responsibilities, things are infinitely more complicated and possibly even dirtier. And that is exactly what makes their story more interesting and endearing to me, in fact.

Many of you will probably be upset. If so, feel free to unfollow, by all means. I cannot and will not lie. I never did, because I think it is useless and idiotic. What bothered me the most is to see this witty community becoming the laughing stock of a bunch of brutal cowards, just because some thought it was easier to make believe than take the bull by the horns. And yes, accept the crooked reality of a paper that does not translate by any stretch of the imagination into a genuine relationship.

A relationship where the two spouses would publicly be glad for each other, celebrate their closeness, act like Mr. Tweedledum and Mrs. Tweedledee, invite the press to see the Taj Mahal, have joint interviews or at least offer some fucking snippet of normality. Because no, 'he is shy' is borderline insulting to McGill, who is a 48 year old man, by now. Because no, acting like deer in headlights every single time a more focused question is asked will only fuel further speculation. Because no, gaslighting in the mainstream press hundreds of people who questioned this entire mess is akin to PR suicide. And because no, you can't really hide forever a ridiculous arrangement, backed by a single piece of paper where the groom wrote himself, under oath, he was a 'music manager' (remember, BIF? you recently wrote a PhD thesis about it, isn't it ironic moronic?).

[crypticminx]

More girl dad! Felix bc I have baby fever like soooo baddd ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

The day called for perfect weather.

Clear blue sunny skies without a single cloud gracing its presence. The air was inviting and utterly warm, but not to the point where humidity only made those outside drenched in sweat.

It was on this day that Felix found himself spending the entirety of his usual packed days at home—a rare occasion for the profound business man.

He was never the type of man to let his work come first and kept himself disciplined in a sense that he found balance and separation in terms of a busy work life and home life. Thus, making him feel exceptionally grateful for the fact that he could finally take a well deserved day off.

“How does this look, princess?” Felix turned to the little girl sitting beside him, her white babydoll dress already painted with grass and a tiny bit of gravel—something her mother was not going to be pleased with.

“Very good daddy!” She joyfully cheered, clapping her delicate hands to prove a point in congratulating her father.

Felix, who tried his hardest not to wipe his forehead with his soil stained hands, gradually passed the pink gardening shovel to his daughter. Completing the first step of digging a hole wide enough for the rootballs that would later on stem into stunning roses just outside the castles main entrance.

Gardening.

The gardens in saltburn were more emaculate than any garden you could see displayed in a catalog waiting to be purchased in the shops. From vibrant greens of trees older than any of the residents and heavenly grown flowers that looked like they belonged above, it was certainly something miles away from what most had ever witnessed.

A gardeners wildest fantasy painted into reality.

“Did you want to ask mummy to make the bone meal for the soil?” Felix politely asked his daughter, noticing her adorable cherubic face turn almost smitten. He knew she was hiding something from that devious expression and it made want to do nothing more than to scoop her up in a big hug.

“I’ve already made it daddy!” She giggled, pulling the mix that rested in a glass jar from behind her. “And I did it without mummy’s help.”

“My smart girl,” Felix wiped his dirty hand with a washcloth they brought outside before ruffling his fingers in her soft brown curls. She scrunched her button nose as a response, her eyes twinkling with adoration.

“Now, baby, why don’t you go get the roses and then we can start preparing them?”

She nodded her head, loose strands of hair swaying in motion. She was quick in dusting off any remaining dirt that laid on her dress before running off to grab the remaining materials they needed.

Felix’s eyes never left her tiny body as she hastily ran off into the distance as if her little life depended on it. He couldn’t restrain himself from chuckling at the cute scene unfolding before him.

It was times like these that he cherished the most with all of his heart.

[unknown-cold]

Video edited by: @ kellunar on Twitter/X

I really liked this edit, bc it brought up a point that I think many people didn't notice.

It is to see that Caitlyn's suffering is not just about seeking revenge or sadness and anger and that she is now just a victim of Ambessa's manipulation of her, and she is also a victim of society's expectations towards her because of her family name that weighs on her and she feels responsible for her society's view of her. She is suffering because of her duties versus her desires, and what she shooting for versus what people want from her.

I think it's interesting to see this change that's happening with Caitlyn's character. And how the writers want to show us a character who's going to realize that revenge is going to cause more problems and other things happening to her that they're going to show us in the rest of the episodes.

People need to stop overreacting and criticizing characters, I mean literally they make me feel like these characters are real and not fictional characters, Caitlyn there is no stupid nickname they threw at her, like you don't like a character that's okay, don't accept her actions that's okay too, but don't make it personal and say a wrong thing like Caitlyn was going to kill the kid bc she's a cop, and cops are evil and blah blah as if it's a real story.

And there people completely ignoring that Cait is hysterical in that moment, she's clearly very angry and grieving. Grief is the craziest mental health affliction ever, it can drive you to be irrational, why are people not understanding that.

But as I was saying why all these titles like fascist and villain in the show and Hitler 2 I mean this is really ridiculous 😂. Bc she is rich and in a position of power, well what if Cait wasn't like that and was a normal girl who wanted revenge would you still say this to us!?

Bc I've always wondered what if Caitlyn wasn't an enforcer or a daughter of the council family, would these people still call her a dictator or a fascist or all this bullshit, I'm sure they wouldn't bc they're either hypocrites or don't see the point of the whole show. The show is not about politics, but rather about characters and their development. Arcane shows us that there is no hero or perfect character and every character has flaws and mistakes, and that's what makes it interesting to watch. These people really need to separate fantasy from reality and enjoy the show.

And I'm not saying you agree with Caitlyn's actions, but this doesn't make her a dictator too. And of course not, she has a right to protect her people after all. (Do you even know what dictator or fascist means?) Or are you just mixing things up to prove your point, which is basically wrong?

Caitlyn's character reaction is normal, and it's not new. We've seen many characters in different works talk about the topic of revenge, and as I said, the character's reaction of seeking revenge makes her completely blind to what's happening around her, especially since she's not alone here. We must not forget Ambessa, who will play the role of the character who incites Caitlyn to take revenge all the time, and Ambessa will certainly be the reason for showing Zaun in the worst light in front of Cait, just like she did in episode 1.

But of course we know bc Caitlyn will not be like this throughout the end of the show, she will definitely realize the situation and discover Ambessa's manipulation and exploitation of her, and that Ambessa caused the problems that were happening in the two cities.

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU (SERIES 2)

FIRST PART (SERIES 1) >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART

Somehow, Arthur and Merlin end up lying in bed, making out. Things float around the room. Curiously enough, the vases with Merlin's flowers remain in their place.

Arthur: (on top of Merlin, pulls away a bit, looks around, suprised, and then looks back at Merlin)

Merlin: (embarrased and nervous) I didn't mean to! I'm sorry! (lowers the things to their places inmediatly) My magic is linked to my emotions and does that sometimes when my emotions are strong. I normally have good control of it! It hasn't done that in years, I swear!

Arthur: In years?

Merlin: Since I was a kid.

Arthur: (smiles smugly) So... you basically love me so much your magic makes things fly when we kiss?

Merlin: (scolds) Oh, don't go getting a big head! (but he can't help but smile too cause he's relieved Arthur is not freaking out about it) But yes. (blushes more)

Arthur: (mockingly) Now you are going to tell me the butterflies in Leon's chambers were also cause by your magic.

Merlin: ...

Arthur: (pretends to be surprised) They were?!

Merlin: (slaps his chest) Shut up!

Arthur: I'm the Prince, Merlin. You can't shut me up-

Merlin: (kisses him)

Arthur: (Kisses back)

Merlin: (rolls them so he is on top of Arthur and separates the kiss) You were saying? 😏

Arthur: Oh, you can shut me up all you want. (kisses him again)

Kissing Merlin is magic in all senses of the word. Like a breath of air after being underwater drowning, like drinking water after being walking for hours in a hot desert. Arthur never felt more alive, and he is sure of it because, for a long time, he has been dying.

When Merlin told him he loved him just before turning into a tree, he couldn't enjoy it properly. First he was dying, then he was too devasted about Merlin's fate to think in Merlin's last words. The following months the knowlegde of Merlin's feelings started to take place in his mind, but he was too focus on finding a way to fix Merlin's state while being dead inside to dwell on it. It was in the very second he realised he was in love with Merlin, has been for a very long time, that those words hunted him and his already eternal pain turned into agony. Because he realised he wasn't really dead inside. He was still dying, never stopped dying since that day. Constantly dying but never reaching death and that was worst than being dead inside.

So Arthur began picturing "could have been's", even if that only brought him more agony afterwards, it also gave him some sort of relief, hope. Kissing Merlin’s mouth with his own being one of the most recurrent imaginations. And, once he traveled back in time, it was all he could dream of. Every time he encounter Merlin, everytime they were close or Merlin smiled at him. He's been dying to hear his "I love you" again and to kiss those lips so, so much. None of his fantasies live up to this woderful reality.

He was dying and now he is alive.

Merlin: (between kisses, almost a whisper) Gods, I love you.

Arthur: (separates the kiss, breathless) Say it again.

Merlin: (still kind of dizzy from the kiss) Uhm?

Arthur: (almost a plead) Say it.

Merlin: Want to inflate your ego so much?

Arthur: Merlin!

Merlin:(softens his expression and smiles, caressing Arthur's face) I love you.

Arthur: (holding himself from crying cause he's finally able to enjoy, he's finally able to say it back) I love you too.

And they keep on kissing. Arthur puts himself on top of Merlin again and, despite his hunger for him, he's gentle and careful. Still wanting to be respectful, his hands touch and caress over the clothes. Merlin, however, is making that task quite difficult, spreading his legs and his hands exploring under Arthur's shirt. Arthur is barely aware of the things in his rooms flying around again and even some jars breaking at some point. The only thing in his mind is Merlin, Merlin, Merlin.

Leon: (shouting from outside) MY LORD!

Merlin and Arthur: (pull away from each other quickly and the things fall)

Leon: (enters, almost breaking the door down, sword in hand) My lord! Are you... (looks Merlin and Arthur on the bed in quite a state and then the state of the room that is basically a mess. Then turns around, embarrased) My-my apologies. I heard noises and though someone was attacking you, Sire. I-I'll come back later-

Merlin: (all red) No! It's fine. I was leaving. (gets off the bed)

Arthur: (gets off the bed too) Merlin, don't forget- (but when he stands up his trousers fall to the floor)

Merlin: (wide eye, brings his hands to his mouth)

Leon: ...

Arthur: (looks down and then looks at Merlin)

Merlin: (thinking, blushing more than ever) 😳 Oh, gods! Did I do that? When did I untie the laces? Or was it my magic? Nooo how embarrassing! 😫😱 (says with a strangled voice and trying very hard to keep a straight face) Don't forget what, my lord?

Arthur: (also blushing, as he puts his trousers back on) The list of chores I gave you before we...eh... before.

Merlin: (confused) What list- (remembers the list of suspects) Oh, right! (looks around the room and picks up the parchment) I'll see right to it, Sire. (leaves, passing Leon quickly)

Arthur: (to Leon) So... since you interrupted us, better make it worth it.

Leon: The king wants to know if you already have the list of suspects, Sire.

Arthur: I have it. Gather the men. We'll arrest them inmediatly. I just have to... (signals his disheveled self) put myself decent.

Leon: Uhmm... do you... (holding himself from laughing, but can't help but grin) want me to call Merlin for that Sire?

Arthur: Very funny. (orders) Out, Leon.

Leon: Yes, Sire. (bows and is about to leave, but turns to comment) Nice decoration, Sire. (leaves, closing the door behind him)

Arthur: (confused) Decoration? (looks around and notices Merlin's flowers have grown from the vases like vines covering the sufarce near them) This corny idiot. (but he is smiling as he says it)

Merlin manages to warn in advance some of the suspects with Lancelot's help, going house to house. But, as Arthur predicted, several still were arrested in the end.

Time skip. Uther, Arthur, Merlin and the knights in the throne room.

Uther: Have all the suspects been arrested?

Arthur: Most of them. A few have gone to ground.

Uther: Issue a proclamation. All the prisoners will be executed unless the perpetrator of this attack is found.

Merlin: (thinking, affected but not suprised) You wanted to kill them either way.

Arthur: (knowing this was coming, with resignation) I'll see to it, Sire. (thinking) Maybe I can make the suspects part of the sacrifice? That way their deaths won't be in vane. Gods, I don't want to. They are innocents, but I did everything I could to save them and helping them escape would be too suspicious.

Morgana: (enters suddenly, screaming desperate) NO! YOU CAN'T! (runs inside)

Arthur: (very surprised since Morgana hasn't left her chambers in days) Morgana?

Morgana: (to Uther) My lord, none of them are at fault of what happened! They didn't cause the fire!

Uther: We can't be sure of that, Morgana.

Morgana: I am! I am sure because it was me!

Arthur and Merlin: (pale, about to have a heart attack)

Uther: What?

Morgana: I caused the fire.

Arthur: (aproaches, putting himself between Morgana and his father) I think what Morgana is trying to say is that she believes she caused the fire by accident. Maybe lighting the candle at night too close to he curtain. Right, Morgana? (gives her an anxious "don't be stupid and play along with me. WTF do you think you are doing!" look)

Morgana: (ignores him) No, it was magic. I did it with magic.

Merlin: (thinking, in panic) I thought I was the only one who did this kind of madness!

Arthur: (holds Morgana by the shoulders) Morgana, I understand that you don't want these people to die and that you feel guilty. But you don't have to make up this nonsense. None of this is your fault.

Morgana: I'm not making anything up! (to Uther) My lord, you have to believe me I-

Arthur: (shouts, urgently) Merlin, take her out. NOW!

Merlin: (as he takes her out) I'll take you to your chambers, my lady. You still need to rest.

Morgana: (struggling) NO! I'M NOT LYING! I'M A- (but she's dragged out of the room)

Arthur: (to Uther, nervous) You surely don't believe she actually has magic, right father? Is clearly that she is overwhelmed and still very distressed. She never liked when you executed people.

Uther: (with an unreadable expression) Indeed, but she never went as far as to confess she has magic just to stop me.

Arthur: Well, is also the first time you threaten to execute these many people, Sire.

Uther: (with barely contained rage) I know exactly what is happening.

Arthur: (sweats)

Uther: She was enchanted!

Arthur: (sighs in relief)

Uther: Forget the proclamation. They ALL will be executed before sunset! (leaves)

Arthur: (thinking) Shit...

Meanwhile, Merlin dragging Morgana around the halls.

Morgana: Let go of me!

Merlin: Morgana, calm down.

Morgana: I won't calm down! These people are going to be killed because of me!

Merlin: Declaring yourself a sorceress won't save them!

Mogana: (shouts) I'M NOT LYING!

Merlin: (shouts back) I KNOW YOU ARE NOT LYING!

Silence. Morgana stops struggling.

Morgana: ... What?

Merlin: (more quietly) I know you are not lying.

Morgana: You...

Merlin: (puts a finger on his lips in a sign of silence and whispers) Can we go somewhere private?

Time skip. In Morgana's chambers.

Morgana: So... you knew? Since when?

Merlin: A while. Your dreams were my first sign. Those are visions that only seers can have.... And only people with magic can be seers.

Morgana: (hurt and angry) You knew all this time what was happening to me... and you didn't tell me?!

Merlin: I wanted to! But I didn't want to freak you out or to force you to accept something maybe you weren't ready to accept or share. I was waiting for you to tell me when you were ready.

Morgana: (sarcastic) Right. So then I would lower my guard and you could stab me in the back!

Merlin: (confused)...what?

Morgana: I saw you in my dream. Giving me poisoned water. (her eyes water but remains angry) I trusted you, you were my friend, and you poisoned me!

Silence. Merlin steps back, like he's been slapped in the face. First his eyes widen in shock, then his expression softens in understanding and, finally, hurt.

Merlin: You said "you were my friend"... Are we not friends now?

Morgana: A friend of mine would never do that to me!

Merlin: You are right and I haven't. And I won't.(thinking) Not in this life. Never in this life. Please, believe me.

Morgana: Then why did I dream that?!

Merlin: I don't know! But I would never hurt you! Morgana- (aproaches, trying to put a comforting hand on her shoulder)

Morgana: (steps back and yells) Stay away from me!

Merlin: (retreats his hand, his eyes watering) Oh... I see. I can't blame you.

Morgana: Blame me? For what?

Merlin: For believing in a vision of a possible future before believing in me.

Why would he? It's true he didn't inmediatly think illy of Morgana when Kilgharrah told him she would be evil and do harm, but he did stop himself from helping her directly because of that. He left her alone and then betrayed her because of his own fear which only led her to become what she became in the end. He is the last person that can judge her. Still, he can't help but sound sad and hurt. Not only because of her words, but because he wasn't prepare to lose her friendship again.

Has... has he lost her again?

No! He won't give up. He'll fight for her this time. Convince her he means no harm. That she can trust her. No matter how much it costs him.

But for now is clear Morgana doesn't want him near, so he'll repect that and let her be.

Morgana: (feeling bad at Merlin's words) Merlin...

Merlin: (blinks to stop the tears in his eyes and masters a polite smile) It's alright, my lady. I understand completely. My apologies for disturbing you. I won't come near you again unless you want me to. (bows and starts leaving)

Morgana: Wait! (stops him by the arm) I'm sorry. You are right. That was unfair of me. I can't hold you for something you haven't committed.

Merlin: I understand, my lady.

Morgana: Don't call me that! (to herself) Gods, now I understand Arthur. (to Merlin) Merlin, I still want to be your friend. I do believe you, I was just scared and I took it out on you. Please, forgive me.

Merlin: (thinking, relief and emotional) She confronted me about her vision and then apologized. She is so much better than I ever was (says, smiling) Of course.

Morgana: (hugs him) I'm so sorry. I was a terrible friend.

Merlin: (hugging her back) It's alright. Morgana, I wasn't lying when I said I understood. (pulls away) I'm also very scared that you dreamt that, even when I know I don't have any intention of poisoning you or harm you in any way. (thinking) It does worry me a lot. Why did she dream that?

Morgana: Maybe... someone will force you to do it?

Merlin: Maybe. But I don't want there to be the slightest possibility. So... I will give you the perfect weapon to defend yourself from me.

Morgana: (horrified at the idea) No! Merlin, there's no need. I believe you would never hurt me, I really do.

Merlin: I know. But the fear will always be there and if you dreamt it, we may as well do something to prevent it.

Morgana: I don't-

Merlin: Please, let me. If not for your sake, then for mine. Please.

Morgana: (sighs) Fine.

Merlin: (holds her hand an enchants) Blóstmá. (his eyes glow and a flower appears in her hand)

Morgana: (stunned) Wh... what? 😧

Merlin: I'm a sorcerer. A warlock really.

Morgana: What's the difference?

Merlin: Sorcerers have to learn spells and enchantments to master magic. I, on the other hand, didn't have to learn anything to be able to do magic. I just have it.

Morgana: (emotional) Like... me?

Merlin: (nods and smiles) That's the weapon I give you. Now a word of you is enough to kill me.

Morgana: You also know I'm a sorceress.

Merlin: You think Uther would believe the word of a servant over yours? He couldn't even believe yours when you told him.

Morgana: (facepalms herself at the memory) Ugh, I was so stupid!

Merlin: (laughs softly) I'm sure Uther didn't believe it. (turns serious again) But he would believe you if you told him about me.

Morgana: I would never turn you in.

Merlin: Just as I would never hurt you. But just in case, now you are safe.

Morgana: (watches the flower in her hand, her eyes watering) I always been taught that magic is evil, that it corrupts your soul.

Merlin: It is not! (picks up the flower) Magic is not evil, nor is good. It just is. (the flower floats in his hand, moving its petals like a butterfly) Is how you decide to use it that matters. And your magic is a gift, capable of wonderful things.

Morgana: I almost burned down my room.

Merlin: Because you were scared. With time you'll learn how to control it. (the flower floats back to Morgana's hand) I will teach you how to control it.

Morgana: (excited) You will?

Merlin: If you let me, of course.

Morgana: (tears of happiness roll down her eyes) I'd love to.

Merlin smiles. Morgana wouldn't be alone this time. He'll make sure of it.

Time skip. In Arthur's chambers, which is not a mess anymore, though the vines of flowers weren't removed.

Arthur: (in his desk, looking defeated)

Merlin: (enters suddenly) I know how to save them!

Arthur: (confused) Who?

Merlin: The suspects! (sits on Arthur's table infront of him) Uther wants to execute them because he can't find the responsible for the fire in Morgana's chambers, right?

Arthur: Yes.

Merlin: So we just have to take the person responsible to the King before sunset. There, problem solved.

Arthur: (sarcastic) Wow... what brilliant idea, Merlin! Why didn't it occurred to me before? Oh, right. Because there is no one responsable!

Merlin: True, because it was... eh... the thunder. But! What if we could make one up?

Arthur: (more confused)...what?

Merlin: Here me out. I know there is an informant in the castle. Probably a spy from Odin, because he was the one who let Myror get in the castle so he could kill you.

Arthur: (very surprised) Wha-How do you know that?

Merlin: Myror kind of let it slip before he tried to slit my throat.

Arthur: WHAT?! 😨

Merlin: (explains quickly) He entered my room and I defeated him using magic, that's why I didn't tell you. So the informant-

Arthur: (almost shouting) You can't tell me you were almost murdered and expect me to-

Merlin: Let it go, I know. We'll talk about my almost assesination attempt later, I promise. Now focus. I know who this informant is. He was the only one who seemed surprised when you woke up alive the next day. And guess who it is?

Arthur: Who?

Merlin: Bentley!

Arthur: (making memory and then his eyes widen with surprised) That's one of Morgana's guards!

Merlin: Which gives him direct access to her chambers.

Arthur: And you think he was behind the fire in Morgana's chambers too?

Merlin: No, but... he could be... easily blamed for it?

Arthur: ...

Merlin: (sighs) Look, I know this is dishonrable and vile. But you have to understand-

Arthur: I'll do it.

Merlin: (surprised) Really? 😧

Arthur: Being informant of Odin alone would be enough for my father to execute him. Adding him one more crime won't change that. He can take the blame.

Merlin: (still perplexed that Arthur agreed to this so easily, but decides not to dwell on it) Oh... Okay.

Arthur: So, do you have any proof? I'm guessing you've been investigating him for a while.

Merlin: (gets some letters out of his pocket) I got these from his room. (gives them to Arthur and he starts reading them) Supposedly they are from a distant relative and they don't say nothing incriminatory. But I know they are from Odin! They must be coded or something. But I haven't been able to decipher them.

Arthur: (thoughtfully as he analyses one letter) Uhm... The messages are very brief. (stretches the parchment) Yet he used a lot of parchment (points the candle in the table) Light the candle.

Merlin: (gets off the table and starts leaving)

Arthur: (stops him) Where are you going?

Merlin: I need the nips to light the candle.

Arthur: With your magic, Merlin!

Merlin: Oh, right! (blushes) Sorry, the habit. (his eyes glow and lights the candle)

Arthur: (puts the letter near the fire and finds the hidden message) It's invisible tint. (looks at Merlin triumphal, smiling) We have him.

So Bentley is bring before the king, accused of both helping in Arthur's assesination attempt and the attack on Morgana. The guard confesses to be informant of Odin but denies being behind the fire. Not even when Arthur shows the proof: fragments of a vase with a weird smell, which Merlin "found" when he helped cleaning Morgana's chambers the day of the attack, that turned out to be a part of incendiary chemical weapon known as Greek Fire. And both the invisible tint and the Greek Fire were greek technices. Gaius supports the theory and adds that the prolonged exposure to the smell of the chemical could have "effects on the brain" which was probably what made Morgana "delirious". Bently still denies being part of the attack, but the King has had enough. He is sentenced to beheading and, since magic was never behind the attack on Morgana, all the suspects are realeased.

Time skip. At night. In Arthur's chambers.

Merlin: (after he finishes changing Arthur's clothes) Thank you. I know it mustn't have been easy for you. Lie to your father like that and make that man take the blame, even if he was already a bad person.

Arthur: ...

Merlin: Arthur?

Arthur: (whispering, to himself) It was actually too easy.

Merlin: (not sure he heard correctly, frowns, confused) Uhm?

Arthur: (holds his hands) Merlin, I have to tell you something. It's nothing bad and it's going to sound crazy once you hear, but you've been honest with me, so I want to be honest with you too.

Merlin: Okay.

Arthur: I... I'm not... I'm from...

Merlin: (worried) What? Arthur, you are shaking. (puts a hand on Arthur's shoulder) Are you okay?

Arthur: (sighs) I'm afraid of sleeping.

Merlin: Oh... is this because of that nightmare?

Arthur: (nods, embarrased) I've been having them for a while. But lately, they are turning worse.

Merlin: What are they about?

Arthur: I... don't remember once I wake up, but the feeling stays there.

Merlin: (knows Arthur is probably lying, but he doesn't push it, respecting his privacy) I don't recall you having nightmares when we were in the farm.

Arthur: Because we slept in the same bed-well, floor there. (holds Merlin by the waist) Your presence always fly the nightmares away.

Merlin: (mocks) Awww, who is being cheesy now? (but blushes at Arthur closeness) Maybe I could... you know... sleep with you tonight.

Arthur: (opens his eyes wide and smirks)

Merlin: (slaps his shoulder) Just to sleep, you pervert!

Arthur: I didn't say anything!

Merlin: And it will be just for tonight. To scare the nightmares away.

Arthur: Of course. Just for tonight.

And from then on, Merlin will never sleep in his chambers ever again.

...

In with this "The Nightmare Begins" ends.

Hope you enjoyed it ^^

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @starrieisdelusional , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @curiously-lazy , @harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo , @whitemaskcd , @bogslob , @braziiis , @rubinaitoart , @thebigoblin , @toomanyfanficsbruh , @farmboyprince , @nonsensefunsense

[psshaw]

OKAY SO I have a lot of swirling thoughts and factors on this, and also a head cold, but here's my best shot.

If you make someone you’re attracted to, you get to look at them all the time. We all deserve such a gift.

Several layers of distance! I can explore weird, rough, and vulnerable subjects without people assuming they’re meant to represent me. They're a safe buffer for when I don't want to talk about myself or what I want. Plus, I much prefer thinking about their problems. They’re like a little hotel room I get to trash and leave someone else with the bill!

When I see a girl I think is cool, I want to be like her. When I make cool girls I have to be careful because I might make her a cooler girl than me. She might bite my style! Or worse, I'd have to bite hers. Boys are for writing, girls are for dressup games, haha.

I like to keep fiction and reality separate. The project of myself is separate from the project of forcing everyone to look at my little pet-baby-dolls, and I see no reason to mix the two types of expression.

In that vein, I really don't like playing as myself! I made "me" in BG3 once, and while I loved making my character and looking at her makes me all gender-euphoric, I hated asking myself "what would I do". That's not a fun fantasy! (Also most video game girl clothes suck, as we know.)

Internalized misogyny of some kind— for a long time, women in art or ads would register to me more as mannequins, tokens, or even voids. The bland, surface-level femininity being sold was like white noise, nothing to do with me. (A stark contrast to the real women in my life, some of whom I’ve always admired and wanted to be like. All of my distaste for girlhood came from the marketing and being assigned products!) I think I got the idea that if she was designed by somebody, then she wasn’t going to reflect what I wanted. Granted, I feel this way about a lot of stuff. But when people talk about misogyny in fandom, I feel like I know exactly what they mean.

Being a dude sucks in an interesting way, haha. They slot much easier into the “I genuinely thought this would go well for me” or fall-from-grace narrative. I also like subverting expectations, so it's fun to give them unexpected sensitivity or emotional cleverness. And frankly, it's just less loaded to do violence to them.

When I’m fascinated by someone, I try to get really, really in their head. I’m talking “getting a weird rush from imagining them filling out forms” levels of granularity. With dudes, there’s a lot more to explore because their experiences are stereotypically different from mine— I like to joke that it’s like teratophilia. (Nevermind the uh, sharp teeth and etc they all seem to get.)

At this point I’m just spoiled. Every time I draw a dude, it’s halfway to drawing two dudes making out.

[ash-says]

Things to be aware of as a Hopeless Romantic:

We all have been there daydreaming about the perfect man, the perfect life, the perfect whatever,etc. Still life is not full of roses and thorns are inevitable.

So here are some aspects to look out for according to me so that you won't fall in the delulu is the only solulu trap.

Remember if you follow me, we don't do regrets here. We accept, take accountability and move on. We don't soak ourselves in problems. We solve them effectively.

1) Drop those rose-colored glasses. Crush them under your feet and now look at the world again. Learn to accept reality. It is what it is. Not what you make it out to be. Learn to become an observer of your life from time to time. It will give you the real picture.

2) Potential is useless if you are not leveraging it. It's a trap both for yourself and others. You see potential in him of changing and being a good guy?? Girl, he *IS* not a good guy. It's not your job to raise a man. It's embarrassing. Stop babysitting grown men.

3) Standards are important but ensure they are not rooted in fantasy. Let's be honest finding a man who is rich, dark, tall, sexy and talks in the way you read in your romance novels is difficult. I am not saying it's impossible but don't be too rigid. All I will say is make sure you are also on the level where if you come across such a man he should be ready to date you.

4) Men view sex differently than us women. I know many of you will get triggered after reading this but the majority of men really view women as sex dolls. Blame the porn industry maybe. Good men exist but not every other man who talks sweetly is good.

5) A person in your life treats you nicely. Always talk sweetly, tells you that you matter to them but their actions don't match it. Chances are you are being breadcrumbed. Plans being cancelled? Messages being unseen? But when confronted all you get is,"Sorry love, I was busy. I was going to do it. You matter a lot,etc etc." Breadcrumbing. Be smart it can happen even in friendships too. I understand people get busier with time and things do happen. Use your discernment to see who really is busy and who is faking to be busy.

6) That uncle was so kind to me. He talked to me sweetly and always tried to help me out. Now, that's really sweet of him. Next he calls you home to help out with the household chores and he is alone at home because his wife is out of town for some work. Would you go and help? Yes. Will you go alone? No. That's unsafe.

No matter how much a gentleman a man appears to be you are not allowed to be in a situation where he could potentially take advantage of you. You always bring along a friend or deny it. I know it's wrong to not help someone but at your own risk. No. Never. It's common knowledge in our society.

7) Dreaming of a Prince Charming to whisk you away from all your troubles??? Dream on. The idea that a soulmate or one person will magically solve all our issues is dumb. We as human beings add to each other's happiness rather than becoming the core of it.

8) One of the biggest mistakes I have seen girls around me make is of being fully invested in a relationship to the point one small fight makes them depressed. That's codependency. It's unhealthy.

9) Never make your relationship your identity. You should always have a separate identity out of it. Stop curating yourself for your partners. Morphing yourself according to their likes and dislikes. That's one way ticket to an identity crisis after breakup. Compromises are essential but changing your core self??? Crazy shit.

10) Your relationship should not be the reason for your downfall. It happens especially with my intense girlies we invest so much of ourselves in the relationship to the point it becomes our focal point and when it faces upheavals we are devastated. The mental distress starts flowing in other areas of your life and suddenly your grades are falling, your career seems unstable, etc. Develop the emotional strength to compartmentalize your emotions and not allow them to overflow in other areas and affect them.

Imagination is fertile but being delusional is being stuck in a swamp.

That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.

[trek-tracks]

Okay, hear me out. TOS 4 is the time travel movie. So AOS 4 is the time travel movie, but it's not about whales.

It's about a conversation AOS Spock had with TOS Spock before the latter died, when TOS Spock mentioned that things didn't really go irrevocably wrong in his universe until Admiral Kirk disappeared with the Enterprise-B. AOS Spock wonders what repercussions this has had on his own, somewhat more distressing universe, and when the AOS Enterprise bridge crew finds itself assigned to protect Earth by examining an unstable temporal ribbon that seems to be crossing through the galaxy--well. Spock wonders. Is this the Nexus? They find out soon enough that it is. And since Spock's the first one in, technically, the Nexus gives him what he wants, which is what the Nexus has--the ability to cross universes as well.

Now everyone, out in two groups on separate missions has to resist succumbing to the temptations of the world of the Nexus while they try to rescue Admiral Kirk, making sure his mission is still completed (so as not to destroy anything for the TNG folks' reality) but that he survives, so that they can figure out how to get through the Nexus and pop him back in his universe right as he's supposed to leave on the Enterprise-B. AOS Spock is sure he can figure out those calculations somehow. Some of the temptations are funny, some are sad, but we find out where Uhura and Sulu and Scotty are in their lives, and where they want to be.

Like Spock got to meet TOS Spock, TOS Kirk gets to meet Kirk (and Spock, and McCoy, and eventually the rest of the bridge crew). AOS Kirk learns that the life he's been envious of all this time didn't turn out well in the end because TOS Kirk ran toward duty alone despite what he had, and TOS Kirk learns that a) he could have suffered so much more loss, b) he's just one of a set of infinite possibilities, just like AOS Kirk is, and c) he's been wasting eternity exploring those other possibilities of happiness in the Nexus when he could have been content with what he already had.

He finds out what happened to TOS Spock, and it's agonizing. He sees this weird young Spock and Bones, both of whom could bench-press him, and he misses his Spock and Bones so much that the Nexus starts trying to change the fantasy world, to their detriment. It's only when the crew sticks as close as possible together and all concentrates on wanting the same thing that they're all able to shift the Nexus to their goal. Then Picard shows up. Things get complicated.

We hear, from Generations: And in the end, what did it get me? An empty house...Not this time.

and from Star Trek V: I knew I wouldn't die because the two of you were with me.

I thought you said men like us don't have families.

I was wrong.

TOS Kirk decides that, yes, he wants to leave, and he wants to go back. But they're not entirely sure how to line up Picard's plan and TOS Kirk's plan and the AOS plan and have it all work. It's a lot to figure out.

To simplify things, AOS Kirk decides he's going to volunteer to go die in TOS Kirk's place so that they can return TOS Kirk and at least one of them will have a decent ending, because his own life still feels so uncertain. This seems like it's going to work until his Spock and Bones both read him the riot act. But it's Bones who really goes off.

Karl Urban gets a great speech as Bones about how both Spock and Kirk met their counterparts, a chance which he will likely never be afforded and neither of them learned anything from it. Spock went off and punctured the walls of a universe even though TOS Spock indirectly destroyed AOS Vulcan through it. Kirk is trying to run away and die again because he doesn't know what to do with himself, even though TOS Kirk had an unhappy ending to a good life because at the end he ran away and tried to die again. Bones just tries to pick up the pieces. You don't fix things by tearing them apart, and you don't fix them by tearing yourself apart. You fix them by healing the rift. AOS Kirk's eyes light up. They're going to fix the rift.

They're going to give this random meaningless villain what he wants, throw him into the Nexus, he can have infinite joy, then they're going to seal it and heal it.

After all, AOS Bones says. He had a drink with TOS Kirk at the man's insistence, even though the Saurian Brandy didn't taste like anything, and Kirk told him he could cure anything from a rock to a rainy day. The tasteless brandy? Apparently Bones is the person who can actually perceive that nothing here is real, so he doesn't want anything except for everyone to remain safe.

From Beyond: Better to die saving lives than to live with taking them. 

Bones says: Better that no one dies at all. This time, no one dies.

So TOS Kirk and the Bridge crew go with Picard to subdue Soran and honestly, it's not that tough with all of them. Nobody had to die. And as they fix the rift, with TOS Kirk and Picard's Enterprise about to be thrown back into their universe on one side and the AOS Enterprise into theirs on the other, Picard suddenly realizes that he never clarified how they were getting Kirk back to his own time. And how will they explain his status?

TOS Kirk grins. Good thing I know how to slingshot around the sun, he says. And when they report me missing, I'll just say I didn't go in the first place. Clerical error. Who are they to argue with an alive man?

AOS Kirk has so many questions, but the two of them merely salute each other, and then they're thrown back.

Back in his own time, TOS Kirk walks into a Starfleet Academy apartment, and hear him say:

Bones, I heard you got laid up with Andorian flu and Spock was taking care of you, and this I just had to see! How many hypos? Don't let him talk you out of any, Spock. They're all important, every single one, even ones he hasn't heard of.

A pause.

Yes, I know I said Starfleet needed me. I just thought maybe you two needed me more this time.

Back in the AOS universe and Spock's calculations are totally off in getting home, because he didn't account for the gravitational pull of--

Vulcan. The planet that apparently still exists.

TOS Spock still came into their universe--he was always going to live longer than his ties to his Enterprise family. But his actions had been tempered, less destructive, which had clearly resulted in the Enterprise being able to save the planet. They were going to have to find out how.

Not everything had changed, of course. Nero had still been Nero, they had still come together. But Jim only vaguely remembers dying, now, as though it had happened to somebody else. He feels more settled than he ever has before. Some of that's the time travel revision, and some of that's the meeting with his alternate self, and some of that's Bones' yelling. Spock feels a sense of closure. Bones is just relieved that nobody died this time.

Uhura suddenly and quietly alerts them to the chronometer. It's a week before they left, which means there are now two Enterprise bridge crews on Earth, and that they need to lie low for a week to avoid running into themselves.

What should we do, Captain? she asks.

Jim smiles.

Let's go to Yosemite.

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter 9

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

9/10

w/c:3.1k

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI (oral, fingering, use of strap, a** eating)

Note: the chapter pictures get cheesier every time I post.

Previously on 

“Here?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. She sits patiently, her legs slightly spread, as you unbutton and push your jeans down your body. You step between her legs, your hips swinging provocatively as you come closer. 

Natasha reaches up, her fingers brushing against your cheek as she leans in to kiss you. The kiss is slow and sensual, igniting a fire in your core. As she deepens the kiss, her hands wander down your body.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” You murmur. “Wanted you.”  

“You have me,” Natasha responds. You gently press against her chest, pushing her down against the bed. She rests against her elbows, watching as you unbutton her pants, and slide them down her legs. The smell of her arousal hits you and you close your eyes as you rest your nose against her pelvis. 

“You smell so good, baby,” You land several kisses against her mound before kissing a trail up to her lips. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Natasha says bluntly. “We can do slow and gentle later. Right now I need you to fuck me.” She practically begs as her chest heaves. 

Your eyes widen at her statement. You had imagined being with her countless times during the separation, but those fantasies paled in comparison to reality. Holding her now, feeling her warmth and presence, did something to you that words couldn't capture.

You take your time kissing her, running your fingers up her arms as you explore her mouth. Natasha’s tiny moan of pleasure sends you into overdrive. Suddenly you can’t get enough of her as you force her blouse over her head. You want to take things slow and savor the moment but you’re also aware of the words she just uttered. 

You kiss down her body, moving aside the cup of her bra to take her perky nipple into your mouth, rolling it around between your tongue and teeth. You can feel her body react to your ministrations and you take your time kissing and suckling her breast, your tongue teasing the sensitive bud. You know you’re on the right track when she raises her hand to keep you right where she wants you. You’ve always loved doing this. Sucking on her breasts, feeling her writhe under you, as she impatiently waits for you to go further. 

You switch to the other nipple, giving it the same attention as the other, enjoying the sounds escaping her throat. 

You slowly make your way down her body, taking a minute to admire her toned belly. You lean back as she reaches behind herself to take off her bra. Then your lips are on her body again, kissing every piece of exposed skin. Her panties are last and for a second you almost think of ripping them off. 

“While hot, these are my favorite,” Natasha mumbles already knowing where your mind is. Understandable. 

You pull back to admire her, naked and laid out on the bed for your pleasure. You can feel her eyes burning into your skin as you slowly push the lace down her legs.

She parts her legs for you and you watch the wetness pool between them, the glistening of her sex causing you to bite your lips. Natasha reaches up, pulling you toward her, capturing you. Your hands are on her body again, feeling, touching, taking in every piece of her. Your hands rest on her thighs, feeling the slightly raised skin of the scar you’d asked about. The one you weren’t there for. It seems like a lifetime ago. 

Your hands slide down her inner thighs. Her eyes close as your fingers tease the outside of her lips. Your thumb rubs against her clit, eliciting a moan from the redhead. You press down a little harder, feeling her hips jump, as you taste the red wine on her tongue. 

“Yes,” Natasha moans into your mouth as you continue to play with her pussy. 

She is soaked, and the feeling of her warmth covering your fingers is almost too much. You slowly sink two fingers into her and she whimpers at the contact.

Your lips move from her mouth to her neck, to her chest. Natasha has never been one to shy away from telling you what she wants. She reaches down to direct your hand, your wrist at a slight angle, and it has her gasping when you hit that spot. 

The look on her face is gorgeous, her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted. She takes her nipple in her hand and starts tweaking it. Her eyes open and they lock onto yours.

“You’re so pretty baby,” You tell her. She bites her lips at your compliment. Her breathing is slower and more controlled,  and you can tell she's getting closer and trying not to lose herself. Your thrusts become faster, trying to keep the pressure on her spot. She grabs your face, pulling you toward her, pressing her lips hard against yours. When you use your thumb to rub at her clit, you feel her pussy tighten around you. 

Her skin flushes, her hands holding onto your wrist to get you to stop moving as she climaxes.

When her pussy relaxes around your fingers, you pull them out and bring them to your mouth. Natasha watches you, a smirk on her face as you lick your fingers. 

“If you wanted to taste you’re more than welcome to,” She says. 

“We’ll get there,” You push her back against the pillows. You move to lie next to her as she recovers. You can’t believe you’ve gotten to touch her after this long. You can’t believe the both of you went this long. How could you neglect this? 

You don't realize she's speaking until she turns her head toward you. "Hm?"

"I asked what you were thinking,"

"I was thinking about how good you taste." You smile at her. 

“Shut up,” She has the nerve to blush. Seeing that smile on her feels like a privilege. She climbs to straddle your body, and you can feel the warmth and wetness of her against your bare stomach. She kisses you, her hand moving down to palm your breast. She moves her lips along your jaw, and then to your neck. She starts with a subtle kiss, and then a bite, before soothing the skin there and marking you as hers. It's an indescribable feeling having the love of your life settled upon you, loving on you. When she pulls back, you can see the desire in her eyes.

“Is it my turn to ask what you’re thinking?” You joke as her hands trace patterns over your torso. Her eyes are all over your body, taking it all in, before she meets your eyes again. 

Natasha chuckles. Her hand rests on your belly, and she gives you another soft kiss on your lips. 

She begins with kisses down your body, her tongue circling your belly button. She nips at the flesh on your hips, her hand rubbing your thighs. She pulls your panties down, tossing them somewhere much like she did your shirt earlier. Her hands caress your legs, feeling the hair between them. Natasha leans in, her breath tickling your sex. You can feel yourself clenching in anticipation. With her hand, she opens your lips and dives in. Her mouth wraps around your clit, her tongue licking and sucking. 

You can’t help the immediate bucking of your hips into her mouth. You don’t know whether to pull back or stay put as you attempt to ride the waves of pleasure you’re feeling. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched and you know you won’t last long. Your moans come tumbling out of your mouth one after the other as she works you up. She brings one of her hands to rest on your stomach and keep you in place. 

You feel the fingers of her other hand circle your entrance, teasing, before dipping into you. You cry out as her finger moves inside of you. Your head drops onto the pillows, and you raise your hand to pull her in closer as you fuck against her mouth. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” You moan into the air. It’s all you can say to praise her. “You’re so good, baby.” 

Natasha hums against your pussy, sending vibrations throughout your core. Your toes curl as you feel the coil tighten. She moves her mouth, focusing solely on your clit, and when she sucks slightly harder, it sends you over the edge. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, moaning pitifully as you experience heaven. Natasha’s noisy pussy eating has always been the best but this was a performance of a lifetime. 

 She stays with you until you can no longer handle it and gently push her off.

She moves up to lie beside you, her chin resting on her arm. When you finally open your eyes, she grins before she presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“Mmm,” You hum as you taste yourself on her lips. Natasha smiles at you, her cheeks pink and her eyes glimmering. You feel the need to kiss her again, so you do, cupping her jaw, and holding her to you.

“I take it that was good,” Natasha laughs. 

“Very good,” You rest your head against the pillows. She simply watches you, her hand finding its way onto your belly again. You drop your hand to cover hers and bring it up to your mouth to kiss. 

“I love you,” Natasha says, her voice trembling with vulnerability, as if this time, the words carried more weight than ever before, even though you had said it to each other thousands of times.

“I love you too,” You whisper to her, pulling her even closer. “I have chocolate ice cream in the freezer,” you suddenly mention, a playful smile tugging at your lips, hoping to lighten the intensity of the moment.

“I would love some,” Natasha nods. “Water too,” she adds as you roll out of bed and rush to the kitchen, the comfort of this nostalgic routine bringing a sense of normalcy to this moment.

You quickly grab spoons, your pint of ice cream, and a couple of bottles of water. You don’t even feel weird about being butt-naked and a little sticky as you race back to the bedroom. Natasha is sitting up this time, her hair mussed and thrown over one of her shoulders as you come to sit next to her. She sits a pillow over her lap, waiting for you to take the lid off the ice cream before you both dive in. 

“It’s good,” Natasha nods. “Thanks.” Natasha hums at the deliciousness of the chocolate cookie dough ice cream. “It’s a lot of sweets for one day.” Alluding to the dark chocolate truffles from earlier. 

“Never,” You shake your head. “Be real with me for a second…” You prompt. 

“Okay?” Natasha lowers her spoon. She’s afraid of what you’re going to ask. 

“If I had never come onto you on Emma’s birthday,” You begin. “Would you have tried for us?” 

Natasha looks at you thoughtfully, her fingers gently tracing patterns on the pillow. “Honestly, I don’t know,” she admits softly. “Those last years were so hard, and we were both so distant. But seeing you that day, feeling that spark again... it reminded me of everything we had and everything we could still have.”

She looks over at you, her eyes filled with sincerity. “I think deep down, I always wanted us to find our way back to each other. It just took a moment to make me realize it was possible. Being intimate again, sharing these little moments—it’s something I missed more than I realized.”

A warmth spreads through you at her words, the fear of losing her easing. “I missed it too,” you say, your voice steady. “And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure we don’t lose it again.”

Natasha smiles, leaning in to rest her forehead against yours. “We’ll take it one day at a time, and we’ll make it work,” she whispers. “Because I love you, and I believe in us.”

“Me too,” You whisper back, sealing your promise with a tender kiss. A kiss that quickly turns into something more. Natasha pulls back, walking over to the tote bag that she'd left in the corner before she pulls out the eight-inch strap she's been talking about for weeks. 

"When did you pack that?"

"I have my ways." She smirks, tossing it over to you.

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a surge of arousal at the thought of fucking her with it. "We're definitely putting that to good use tonight."

"And every other night." Natasha challenges. She saunters back over to the bed. 

"I'd love nothing more." You pull her close, the heat rising between your bodies as you share a passionate kiss. You don't think you'll ever get enough of this, of her, and you'll savor every second. You begin to attach the strap on to your hips as she positions herself against the pillows. “Do you need lube?” You question. “I’m not sure I have any here unless you do-”

Natasha interrupts you. "No, I'm good." If she’s sure. 

You take the strap into your hand, giving it a few experimental strokes. You take in the sight of Natasha, already lying on the bed and waiting for you. Her hair cascades messily over the pillows. Her bare skin is warm against yours, soft and inviting, as you rest the strap between her legs. The tip of the phallus presses against her clit. 

Natasha sighs softly, her legs falling open a little wider, and you lean in to capture her lips in a heated kiss. You thrust your hips gently, hoping to get her a little more prepared for what happens next. On the next thrust, you reach down and guide the dildo into her pussy. 

You watch her closely, noting every gasp and whimper as you sink the length into her. She's so warm and tight around the shaft, her walls hugging it as if they were made for it. Her hands rub along your back, delighting in the contraction of your muscles as you work overtime to pleasure her. On a particularly hard thrust, her nails dig in just slightly, no doubt leaving indents. You both moan collectively as you pick up the pace. It feels good for you too. Natasha moans beneath you, her hips rising to meet yours as you drive the strap-on into her. She wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you in deeper. You reach down to rub her clit, and her reaction is instant.

“Oh fuck,” She curses, her back arching, as she holds you closer. Your breast feels so good against hers. This night is turning out to be everything you wanted. 

Natasha moans your name over and over again, her grip on you tightening, as she chases her orgasm. She reaches down to feel the base of the strap-on and she can feel herself pulsating around the phallus.

“Move your hand, “ You growl as you reach for the offending limb and press both of them against the bed. Now all she can do is take it as you thrust harder. You can feel the pressure building in your lower belly and you can tell she's getting closer by the sounds that are coming out of her mouth. She's trying to talk, but nothing comes out.

"Breathe, baby," You instruct her. "Let go."

As soon as those words leave your lips, she does just that, crying out as her orgasm washes over her. Her legs tighten around you, her whole body quivering with the force of it. Your orgasm follows soon after and your limbs feel heavier as you keep yourself up. The sight of her coming undone under you has you whimpering. 

You don't think you'll ever get tired of watching her orgasm.

The two of you stay there for a few minutes, just holding each other. It feels so nice, being like this with her.

“I want more,” Natasha whispers into your ear. 

“Really?” You lift to look into her eyes. “Aren’t you sore?” 

She shakes her head.

You smile and gently pull out of her. Her wish was your command. You quickly detach the strap and throw it onto the floor. When you turn back, Natasha is on her stomach, her ass raised in the air.

You move behind her and gently run your hands over her ass. You’d always loved this particular part of her body for obvious reasons. You slowly push your fingers into her pussy and you feel her body stiffen.

Natasha whimpers as you move your fingers in and out, her wetness covering your digits.

When you start to play with her asshole, her whole body trembles. You lean in and gently bite her left ass cheek.

"Do you want me to eat your ass, baby?"

Natasha nods. "Please." She mutters into the pillows. 

You lick a long stripe over her puckered hole and she moans. "So beautiful," You praise her, as you tease her with your tongue. "You taste so good, baby." You do what you do best and fuck her well. No part of her is left untouched as you continue licking and thrusting into both of her holes. 

After a few minutes, she collapses onto the bed, breathing heavily. She reaches out and grabs the pillow, her face buried into it, as you continue eating her out. You gently spread her cheeks, and push your tongue inside her, fucking her asshole with your tongue. Her moans are louder and much more brazen now. You can feel her gushing around your fingers. 

Your eyes trail up her body, seeing her push her ass into your face even more, her walls squeezing your fingers. You don't stop until her moans are weaker and further apart. If possible she'd let you do this all night.

You slowly withdraw your fingers and your tongue, before climbing off of her and sitting up. You take the opportunity to admire her. You can't believe she's all yours.

Natasha rolls onto her back, her legs slightly spread and her eyes closed, revealing her glistening sex. You lean in and rub against her thighs. 

She groans and reaches for you, her eyes barely open. "I can't," She whispers, her voice hoarse.

“Okay,” You nod. You reach over to pull the comforter that has fallen onto the floor. You cover her body and she pulls you into her arms. You hold her close, the feeling of contentment overwhelming.

"Thank you," She whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You don’t have to thank me,” You say. Eventually, you would have to get up and shower but for now you need a little time to rest. 

"I love you," She says quietly.

"I love you too."

"That was amazing."

"Yes, it was."

You smile against her neck. You can't remember the last time you felt this happy.

---> next part

[r0b0s-robos]

Pretty Boy, a DCA x Reader Oneshot Summary:

The daycare attendants are head over heels for you. Sun especially tries his darndest to gain your attention and favor in any way he can. His daydreams and fantasies meet reality only to be thwarted by someone without any respect for theatre!

This fic is based off this song! -> Naethan Apollo - Pretty Boy [LYRIC VIDEO]

Read the FULL fic/CHECK TAGS on AO3 -> here

Sneak Peek!!

His non-existent heart fluttered as he remembered doing a show with you just the other day. You played the valiant knight who fell for the trapped princess.

“Oh, Princess,” the knight called up the tower. “Your father has trapped you in these walls, but I will take you away from these cold bricks and mortar!”

The princess fawned, swooning over the open window of her tower. “My knight!”

Children laughed at Sun’s high-pitched, shrill voice. Your smile as you sucked in your lips to stop from breaking character made him feel giddy.

“My knight!” the princess exclaimed. “Your words bring me hope! But, how will I escape these walls?”

You cleared your throat, still reeling from his unexpected voice.

“Princess, I will-” you snickered. “I will catch you! Jump into my arms, my love! So that we may run away!” The knight held a hand over his chest as the other gestured to his love.

The princess looked over the ledge, uncertain. “I’m frightened, Sir Knight! These walls are all I’ve ever known. What if the world outside is cruel?” Sun’s smile slacked. “What if I do not survive the fall?”

“Fear not, Princess!” The knight’s booming confidence made the princess cover her mouth in awe. “I will catch you! And should the world be cruel, we will face it together, in love!”

The crowd of children was torn between sounds of disgust and adoration.

The knight spread his arms wide, awaiting the princess’ embrace.

She stood on the ledge.

Sun looked at you, staring intensely. The moment your head turned, he looked away.

“I will catch you.” The knight said earnestly.

The princess nodded. “Whatever you say, dearest knight!” She jumped into the knight’s arms.

Sun held your hand, the only thing separating his segmented fingers from yours was fabric.

The princess clung tightly to the knight, before planting a big kiss on his cheek. “Muah!” she vocalized. “Muah, muah! My hero!” she rejoiced.

The puppets disappeared to the side of the wing. The show ended and you stood from behind the stage. “Okay, kiddos, snack time. Get in a row- Peanut allergies to the left, please!”

You were stepping away before Sun had even stood from his spot. He looked down at the puppets you tucked haphazardly into the lower shelf of the back of the stage. His eyes remained on the princess, noise falling away as he stared into the black, beady eyes and the golden-braided hair that draped over her shoulders.

“Sun!”

He jolted upright. “Coming! So sorry, Sunshine, just tidying up.”

[kseniyagreen]

About Zhao Yuanzhou's personalities and their dreams.

I see a clear symbolism in the fact that the diametric opposite of the crazy demonic part of Zhao Yuanzhou is the fantasy of a quiet life with Wen Xiao.

And this makes sense regardless of whether you see their relationship as romantic or not (I prefer to see it as platonic).

When I saw this scene for the first time, I thought - " it is a perfect image of a mental health center". Nature, a simple quiet life, in some very isolated place.

If the "evil" part of Zhao Yuanzhou represents his greed for emotions and desire for absolute freedom. Then, fighting with this part, he turns to the other extreme - and this is the role of Wen Xiao in his life.

She is associated with an image of some kind of normality. Like a goddess, she has "pills", I mean, divine power, calming all demons. But what may be even more important is their history together.

When Zhao Yuanzhou was in a severe depression, the former goddess asked him to look after the young Wen Xiao. Probably not only for Wen Xiao's safety, but also for the demon's own mental stability. This contact could not cure Zhao Yuanzhou's depression, but such a calm presence in the life of another person gave support to his existence. And this is the beauty of their connection for me.

For me personally, this connection is not about passion, but about the fact that Wen Xiao gives others the strength to continue to be.

We often tend to underestimate the importance of such people in our lives. Their role is not as noticeable as those who make the heart beat faster and the soul sing. But in a difficult period, it is these people who separate us from jumping off a cliff. In this, I see the power of Wen Xiao as a person (not fully revealed, in my opinion, this could have been realized better), but as it was probably intended.

That is why she was able to grow that tree for three hundred years. It is not just about patience. It is the gift of being, which is different from the gift of life, but precedes it. The ability to give strength and stability to the world around. And to rely on reality as it is.

Therefore, it is Wen Xiao who represents for Zhao Yuanzhou the ability to exist without his entire internal opera theater of passions and desires. This part is stable, but it is absolutely separated at the other pole from his demonic part.

What is also symbolic is that in those moments when Zhao Yuanzhou does not argue with himself, but as if mixes in some kind of semi-delirium, he sees a completely different dream.

And this one is not at all peaceful and harmonious, it contains pain and a shade of nightmare, and at the same time it is also a way of life of his dream - the one in which Zhuo Yichen becomes a demon and takes the place in his life that Li Lun used to occupy.

And this dream is feverish and painful, because only the one who can make him alive can kill him, and being alive goes with pain, fear and confusing, these two sides go together.