#He never outgrew that baby face

[loving-elvis]

My favorite 50s!Elvis photos, part 129 of ∞; Itty Bitty Baby Boy

[doromoni]

Not Over the Papaya | OP81

⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader

Genre : Fluff Smau

A/N : Tooth rotting fluff coming ur way~ no angst for this chapter hihi enjoy!

Face claim : Jennie Kim

Song: So this is love - Brandy, Paulo Montalban

Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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Y/N. 3mins

story replies

markwebber Oi! my feet blur that!

Y/N. get in the bloody car first old man, we still need to fetch 2 more idiots

markwebber Ok fine, tell osc I’m driving us

Y/N. he said sure. NOW GET DRESSED

markwebber ok ok give me a sec

Y/N thank youuu 🫶

Y/bf Ohhh who’s that? he’s hot! 🥵

Y/N. He almost 50 and he’s MARRIED with KIDS

Y/bf Maybe they need a new stepmom

Y/N. GIRL. NO

Y/bf. I’m joking! I’m waiting for Lewis Hamilton … that man could take me. ☺️

Y/N. Y/bf I swear…

Y/bf Ok i’m serious about that ~ I’ll let Lewis ruin my life

Y/N. and i’m sure he’d be lucky to have you, crazy and all

Y/bf hell yeah I’m a catch 🤗

Y/N. you’d be a bigger catch if you went to Australia with me

Y/bf I have to a shoot for my movie you gremlin. I’m sure they cant film when their leading actress is half across the earth

Y/N. ik ik~ goodluck babe! Ughh im so proud of youuuu 🫶

Y/N. 8mins

story replies

charles_leclerc wth?? You’re all together??

charles_leclerc why wasnt I invited?

charles_leclerc Y/N! answer meeee

maxverstappen this is so weird Y/N 😅

Y/N. 1m

story replies

oscarpiastri I see mom had shown you the albums huh?

Y/N. You looked so cute my luvv 😭 I’m crying

oscarpiastri I do look cute 🤷‍♂️

Y/N. URGH I want to squish ur lil cheeks . I’m having cuteness aggression. I never realized how blond you are 🥺

oscarpiastri yeah, I kinda outgrew it

Y/N. what if we dyed ur hair??

oscarpiastri Baby, I love you but NO

Y/N. I h8 u, go play video games with the other guys~ ur mom’s spilling so many things bout you 😛

oscarpiastri Nooooooooo

charles_leclerc Osc looks cute

Y/N. Ikr??

charles_leclerc Yes… now why am I not invited to go to Australia???

Y/N. 🙊😬

charles_leclerc Y/Nieeee Whyyyyyy???

charles_leclerc Hello?????

Y/N.

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo,logansargeant, and others

Y/N. I wasn’t depressed, I just needed some sun…. or somebody’s son

oscarpiastri Mama said you could keep me 😌

nicolepiastri NO returns, @Y/N sweetie.

Y/N. No returns… I have some concerns 🙂‍↕️. I feel like he loves Sally better than me.

oscarpiastri That was my childhood room dear!!.

Y/N. that doesn’t explain the huge af cut out 😀

nicolepiastri yeh, he begged for that one.

danielricciardo Ok where are my photo creds tho???

Y/N. Oh.

danielricciardo this is intellectual theft Y/N!

Y/N. Ok fine i’m sorry! Thank you for the most amazing, revolutionary, and inspiring photos taken by @danielricciardo

danielricciardo That’s better. Ur very welcome

logansargeant I didn’t come here to be bullied!!

Y/N. who’s bullying you our precious bbq sauce enthusiast

logansargeant I- ok that’s a step up from ranch. I’ll take it.

charles_leclerc I repeat. WHY WAS I NOT INVITED?!

oscarpiastri ur not Aussie

charles_leclerc Ok??? Logan is American and Y/N too

oscarpiastri right.

Y/N. Sorry kinda forgot about u 😬

charles_leclerc unbelievable! i’m so hurt 😭

Y/N. sucks to be u, cry about it on ur yatch

charles_leclerc Maybe I will! and none of you are invited

Notification : Alex added you to “ Charles the drama queen”

Notification : Alex added Oscar to “Charles the drama queen”

Extra A/N: Singer!Oscar ran in my mind all week… so fuck it Singer!Oscar.

Also! may I offer my playlist for the one and only~ Oscar Jack Piastri 😗

Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd @booksandflowrs @czennieszn @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @tellybearryyyy @wobblymug @alittlechaotics-blog @bingussthirdtoe @mirrorball-6 @demandealalune @heartsforleclerc @yoongi-holland @maneskin-slave @alenix @forensicheart @bloodyymaryyy @stereading @hahahjej @youre-on-your-ownkid : closed

Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : closed for now

[bruciemilf]

AU where Thomas and Martha don't die, but Batman's still a thing!

Instead of Bruce becoming Batman, its Thomas. He's already a huge help to the city, so this nocturnal passion is for sport.

If it wasn't obvious enough, he's not the most stable guy. But he's a loving dad and exemplary husband, so it's mostly fine.

God forbid men have hobbies.

He specifically picked up a bat theme to hopefully cure Bruce of his fear! Just imagine that 6'5 error of nature cladded in black, claws with his costume cause he's sexy like that,

"See? I'm not scary at all!" But Bruce is already sobbing and hiding behind Alfred.

"Martha, you'll never guess who I saw on patrol tonight. Bruce's college roomate! The blonde one with the glasses and gay vibes. "

" Oliver?"

"Oliver who?"

" Queen?"

" Well! I think that fits you better, amore."

" Bruce's childhood friend? Known eachother since infancy? Came to you for tech?"

"Bruce had FRIENDS?"

Bruce, from the other room, " Her name is Harley! You paid her college tuition and killed her dad."

" I've never met her in my life, and i keep my kill list detailed.Anyway, I adopted her. Shes seeing that clown boy and I think his superpower is boring me to death."

The batkids still get taken in, of course. Bruce is already a full adult and outgrew his Robin costume. He just barges in with a feral Jason and Dick, " Look, Brucie! Papa's got brothers for you!"

But Bruce? Looks at these two snarling kids, kicking, thrashing, clawing, and takes them in his arms, " Babies. My babies."

" Uh... Come again,,-" But Thomas raised a spoiled BRAT, so Bruce definetly bites him and throws a tantrum until he agrees to pass full custody. Naturally, Alfred and Martha have no sympathy.

"But you're too young to be a dad!"

" I'm 27."

" Young. A fetus. Cousin Gomez's newborn is older than you." Bruce is already drawing the adoption papers. Fight him about it.

Naturally, instead of dating his rogues, Thomas parents them. Imagine you're Selina Kyle and Batman scolds you for getting caught by the cops, " You know better. Villain privileges REVOKED."

Mr Freeze? Thomas gets it. Do what you gotta do, King. You need some pocket money?

Khoa? Problematic son. Thomas adores him and brags about him to every family reunion. "Your daughter tried to poison you for inheritance? That's adorable, Agatha. Khoa kidnapped Alfred last week. Beat that."

Ivy? Thomas invites her to beer and game night and plays matchmaker with her and Harley.

Waylon is his favourite. Naturally, he's the only one adopted legally.

He fist fights Ra's for Talia's custody and she is desperately shoving Damian in his face. Trust her. You don't want to go through with it.

the image of Batman not being a broody, stoic vigilante and instead Gomez Addams with a cape makes me weep

[morehotch]

each time you fall in love

how your boyfriend turned into your husband and how the two of you started and grew a family

spencer reid x reader, parent au, dad!spencer x mom!reader, time jumps (parts w/ pregnant reader), 2.5k

Your thing with Spencer is really good, sometimes it just feels too good and too right. Everything feels like it’s fallen so effortlessly and perfectly in place. You definitely don’t want to jinx anything, but after eight months of officially dating- and two years of mutual pinning through work, Spencer has been absolutely everything you wanted and needed in a guy.

It’s easy to talk to him, to laugh; to tell him anything. Spencer wants to get to know you, to understand and help you. When you talk, he listens with his eyes never leaving yours and a soft smile always dancing on his lips. And during moments like these, when you're lying in bed, limbs tangled together, his large palm over your waist, and when you pet his bed head and he smiles sleepily- you never, ever want Spencer to leave.

Spencer watches you now with a dazed, blissed look of total comfort. One you love so much on him, one he deserves so much. He smells like your clean sheets and his usual wood and sea salt cologne as his warm fingers trace different patterns against your shoulder.

You both have been slowly convincing each other to get up eventually and tackle your Sunday plans of grocery shopping and putting together Spencer's new book shelf he ordered after he outgrew his other one. But it’s been over an hour of falling back asleep and slowly blinking awake and neither of you has made much progress yet.

“Do you ever think about having kids?” Spencer asks suddenly, making you twist in his arms to look at his sweet face and dazed eyes.

“Yeah,” you whisper, watching how intensely curious he looks. “Sometimes."

You subconsciously match his small smile, thoughts of an incredibly wholesome future together making your heart unfairly twist in excitement and want. “I think about it all the time with you,” you continue and Spencer grins instantly. You've seen how delicately and kindly Spencer interacts with children, how naturally warm and gentle he is. You wouldn't admit it, but even before you were dating, you had a few fleeting thoughts about Spencer as a father.

“Really?” He asks and you smile, hand running down his bicep, “Of course.”

Spencer is quiet for a while before he speaks again. "And, you think- you think I'd be a good dad, right?”

Your eyes soften as you roll over to kiss him. “Absolutely.” 

Spencer just looks at you like you said something entirely captivating and consuming.

“What?” You smile, pressing your lips against his jaw gently, "I'm just telling you the truth."

“I just want it so badly, I don’t know.” Spencer bends his arms to rest them behind his head. He watches you, totally suddenly peaceful and content. “I want so much with you.”

-

2 years later

You wake up to the muffled sound of Spencer's voice, momentarily wondering if he’s on the phone but you smile to yourself when you listen closely and hear his softer and higher tone- his baby voice. You excitedly make your way to your kitchen, leaning against the doorframe and appreciating the scene in front of you. Spencer is carefully holding your daughter, Nora, with both arms, walking around the kitchen, while simultaneously trying to make eggs.

He has messy bed hair- similar to yours, a now permanent fashion statement in the Reid household, and stubble dotted along his jaw. You listen to his soft whispers and your heart swells as your baby’s small fingers cling onto his white undershirt and her chubby hand grasps at his arm, softly patting over his chest.

Spencer has his back to you so you stay unnoticed, enjoying the serene beauty of your husband and daughter together. Nora is already almost eight months old and time felt like it was flying by- even if the sleepless nights felt incredibly long. Now, even if time alone and a longer than five-minute shower felt like a luxury, you couldn’t and don’t want to remember a time without Nora.

You absolutely love watching Spencer with her, you love watching the way he so gracefully and perfectly assumed the role of being a father, especially after the late night conversations you had when you were pregnant when Spencer tearfully admitted his fears of his ability to be a good father when he lacked one as a child. But between Spencer's reading of basically every pregnancy book on the market and the way Nora kicked immediately at the sound of Spencer's voice, it was quickly obvious he had nothing to worry about.

You love how attentive he is and how much he dotes on her and takes care of you at the same time. How he diligently learned how to cook- and make fresh, healthy baby food, how he reads a ridiculous amount of baby books to Nora daily, and how he insisted on making sure you get at least minimum of a few hours of sleep a night.

You watch him bounce Nora gently, leaning against the doorframe and you smile silently until your daughter spots you from behind his shoulder. She reaches out and giggles with a tiny grin and Spencer turns around, mirroring her smile, which looks enduringly similar to his own.

“Need help?” You ask as Spencer laughs. “There’s probably a more effective way to make breakfast but I didn't want to put her down.”

Nora stretches her arms out towards you and you reach over to gently grab her from his hold. "Coffee?” He asks, knowing your answer.

“Yes please,” you smile down at Nora, her soft hairs and long lashes. She leans her head against your chest, already comfortable in your arms. You watch Spencer stand on his tiptoes to grab a coffee mug and you press a kiss to the crown of Nora's head.

What a nice morning.

-

“Come take a picture!” Spencer says and your daughter giggles and toddles over to you, hurrying as fast as her tiny legs can carry her, bound in a large winter coat, mittens, and ear muffs. A tiny chubby arm extends out to you- a wordless ask for stability and help. You smile as she struggles to wrap her small arms around your shoulders, tiny hands grasping your jacket. Her full pink cheek smushes against yours as Spencer positions the picture, grinning behind the camera, “Your first snow this year, baby!”

Spencer had retired from the BAU and started teaching full time only a year and half after Nora was born, determined to be there for his daughter and that meant so many more family moments like these. Mornings like these when you wake up beside your husband and you're both there to see one of Nora's firsts.

“Snow!” She says loudly, head straining up towards the sky with fascination. She had just started talking and loved impressing everyone with her linguistic skills, taking her limited vocabulary very seriously as she already loved to talk and communicate with the two of you. Spencer loved entertaining her- and himself, by sitting her in his lap and reading her favorite books, the ones she had memorized, together.

“Smile!” He says excitedly, grinning behind the large camera.

Nora listens, with grin that has always looked exactly like her father’s. Your arm finds its way to the small of her back, holding her securely as Spencer takes the picture. 

“Perfect,” he mutters, more to himself, watching his family in front of him.

-

“What’s the surprise?” Nora cries, toying with the hem of her shirt. Her anxious gaze darts back and forth between you and Spencer, upset that you both know something she doesn’t.

At three years old, Nora hates feeling like she’s being excluded from something. The hardest part of her routine is now attempting to convince her that it's bedtime and neither of you would dare have fun without her while she's sleeping.

Spencer hands her a small transparent piece of film and your daughter plays with it gently, turning it around in her palm. “What does this mean?” She questions, not able to stay still and scooting towards you with wide, curious eyes. 

Spencer holds her close to his body, wrapping an arm around her as she gives him her full attention. “It means in a couple of months you’re going to be an older sister.” Nora blinks with her mouth open, she has friends in preschool who were younger siblings or already had younger brothers or sisters. Spencer's cousin recently had twins and Nora was completely fascinated by how tiny they were and that there were two babies.

You knew Spencer always wanted Nora to have at least one other sibling and the timing had finally felt right for the first time since she was born a few years ago.

“Really?” Her voice grows louder in pure excitement, looking at you in awe before her eyebrows furrow, confused. “Why not right now?” She pouts, immediately turning to her father for an explanation.

Spencer laughs loudly with an endeared smile that is always reserved solely for Nora. “That’s not how it works, angel." He pulls her into his lap, noting that patience is still hard a hard virtue for a three-year-old.

-

You’re tucking Nora into bed a few nights later when she brings up the baby again.

“There’s a baby in there?” Nora asks, pointing to your stomach where a small but noticeable bump began to show. After Spencer's scientific but three- year old friendly explanation, Nora has been fascinated with her younger sibling, always asking you and Spencer about babies. It had even made Spencer briefly tear up one night, hit with the realization Nora wasn't a baby anymore. Even though you quickly reminded him she still was only three.

“Yes, sweetheart,” you laugh as she smiles widely. “Wow,” her big eyes fill with excitement and curiosity. She reaches out and lays a small, warm hand on your stomach, “Hi baby.”

You smile at your daughter, already knowing what a great sister she'll be. She grips the comforter tightly as she moves to your side to cuddle you closer. “Love you,” she mumbles, eyes tightly shut, trying to lull herself into sleep. 

“I love you too,” you say quietly and you eventually think she’s successfully asleep, tucked tightly next to you until she whispers cutely, “I love you baby.” You feel a small tap on your stomach and she snuggles closer, satisfied and closes her eyes for a peaceful sleep. 

-

“Look!” Your daughter calls as she thrusts a picture towards Spencer, a pink and purple fingerprinted flower. He takes her in his arms, “For me?” Spencer grins, looking at her art. Spencer loves her artwork and his office at the university is filled with her masterpieces.

Nora's arms find his shoulders. “No,” she giggles, “for Mommy!” She finishes, still laughing at Spencer's reaction.                      

Spencer pretends to look hurt, pouting, “Well, can I have one too?” he asks. Nora thinks about it for a few moments, face twisting in thought, “Okay!” The little girl decides and Spencer's smile grows instantly, “Thank you, baby.”

She frowns, chiding her father with a grin, “I’m not baby.” 

“You’re not?” Spencer asks surprised and she nods approvingly. “Yes, the baby is in mommy right now,” she explains, looking at him to confirm he understands.

“Ahhh,” Spencer nods knowingly, smiling tugging on his lips, “I see. You’re right. You're so smart, my big girl.” Nora hides her smile, leaning against Spencer's shoulder and tucking her face into his chest.

“You’re still my baby though, right?“ He whisper as Nora buries her face further into his shirt, giggling out a sweet, “Yes."

-

Nemo has been the chosen movie for your weekly movie night- for the fourth time in a row, because Spencer can never find it in him to say no to Nora and she is somehow still incredibly invested in Nemo's storyline. But now, as the end credits of Nemo play, Nora sits in Spencer's lap, letting him braid her hair. You’re laying next to them, a blanket draped over you as Spencer watches you sleep peacefully, getting your well deserved and needed rest.

Nora sighs against Spencer's chest as he pats her shoulder. "Let’s go to bed, angel.”

She lets her father hoist her up and carry her into her room, the one right down the hall from yours, with pink walls and a newly upgraded twin bed.

“Daddy,” she whispers suddenly, clutching her favorite teddy bear like she's nervous. “Will you still love me even if I’m not a baby anymore?”

Spencer blinks and brushes back stray hairs from her face with a soft smile, trying to ignore the way his heart breaks inside his chest. “Of course honey, I could never not love you, never ever.”

“Ok, daddy,” Nora smiles to herself, seemingly satisfied.

“Will you still love me?” Spencer asks and she giggles loudly.

“Yes!”

“I had to make sure!” He defends and Nora squeals, wrapping her arms around his torso and squeezing tight.

“Nora," Spencer finishes seriously, "Mommy and I will love you forever.”

-

“The baby is going to be small,” Spencer explains, walking Nora through the hospital halls as she swings their interlocked hands back and forth excitedly.

“Okay,” Nora bounces. “Isn’t it cool, daddy, that baby and I have the same birthday month?”

“Wow,” he looks down at Nora and her bright, excited eyes, “it really is.”

“But we have our own days,” she continues, “I think it was meant to be.” She decides, stopping when Spencer does, right in front of your hospital room.

“I think so too,” he smiles, squeezing her hand gently and opening the door carefully.

“Wow,” Nora gasps, consciously trying not to run up to the hospital bed where you hold a tiny bundle.

“Hi, sweetheart,” you smile, “Do you want to meet your sister?”

She nods with wide eyes, already on her tippy toes to try and peer over the tall bed. Spencer instead sits down in the chair next to you and lifts her into his lap. “Here,” he murmurs as you carefully pass over your newborn.

“Hi,” Nora stares at the small bundle, “Daddy,” she gasps, looking up at Spencer in awe. She touches the baby tentatively as her father's arm wraps around her waist. Nora is already hyper-fixated on her sibling, on her sister.

“What’s baby’s name?” She whispers like she’s scared of disturbing her.

“Amelia,” Spencer says quietly, meeting your eyes with a small, content smile.

“Hi Amelia,” Nora smiles, helping Spencer support the baby's head gently, turning to look at you. “Do you think she already knows how much I love her?”

You nod, “I know she does.” Nora nods with a satisfied smile, like that reassures her and you watch her hold her sister, sharing a silent but knowing look with Spencer; knowing now that your family feels so, so complete.

[artssslut2]

Moving Along

Art Donaldson x Reader

Summary: You and art bought your first house together and some other big things happen.

You stood on one side of the unmade bed looking across at your boyfriend who was still half asleep trying to help you make the bed.

“Can we just stay in bed all day” Art pouted looking too cute with his bed head and blue eyes.

“Art we have so much to do still, we’ve done nothing all week” you laughed, you and Art had just bought your first home together. You had lived together for a while though, you two would always sleep in each other’s dorm rooms, then when Art graduated and you went into grad school you rented a small apartment together. But now you were both ready for something bigger. You had recently completed law school and we’re working a good corporate job, and Arts status was moving up very fast. It wasn’t a huge mansion by any means just a little two bedroom two bathroom house in California surrounded by palm trees and beautiful greenery. You would stay until you outgrew the cute little starter home. Both you and Art have had many conversations about the future, it was obvious your guys were endgame, you knew he was going to purpose soon, you both knew.

Later on Art was hanging up photos in the hallway leading to both bedrooms, his gym shorts hung low on his hips, you watched his back muscles move and contract, you were unpacking dishes in the kitchen. You walked over and wrapped your arms around his bare stomach and chest.

“I love our house” you said into his shoulder, he flipped in your arms so he could face you

“Me too baby, how do you pictures looks?” He asked then kissed your forehead

“They almost look as good as you do working on the house” you said flirting with your boyfriend he chuckled and playfully grabbed your ass.

“The second room will be such a good nursery don’t you think?” He asked you slightly smirking,

“A Nursery?” You questioned, you and art had talked about having kids many times, you both wanted a family and couldn’t wait to have kids, but you didn’t think that would happen for a while, definitely not until you were married.

“Mhm” he hummed “We can paint the walls and build a crib, fill the whole room with toys” he told you taking your hand and walking into the empty room, it was no secret that art really wanted a baby, he’d always stop you when you’d see a baby on the street, or see a cute outfit.

“Hm did you check with Patrick because I think he thinks it’s his room” you asked only half kidding

“He’ll be okay, maybe we can do bunk beds” he suggested

“So when are you planning on this baby happening then mister”

“Well soon, after we get Married, so after I purpose” he informed you confidently, you blushed

“So when’s that gonna happen Artie?” You titled your head giving him Attitude, Art laughed pulling you into him

“Nice try babe, can’t tell you that though” he started walking out “Soon though” he said throwing one hand in the air. You smiled to yourself thinking about the future. You were so content with your life right now you and Art were getting older making a reality of the plans you would make in Arts tiny dorm room.

You and Art unpacked and organized and decorated all day long and you were both exhausted and very happy with your new home and how it was coming together. Art insisted that you guys go to dinner to celebrate this step in your relationship. It didn’t take much convincing from him you loved going on dates with Art, the fire in your relationship never died every date had the same excitement the first date had. Art took you to a restaurant right by the ocean you two sat outside talking about all the things you normally talked about plus some new stuff regarding your house. You had no idea how Art was going to purpose, he definitely teased you and would kneel to tie his shoe but make it seem like he could be purposing. You tried to put the idea out of your head you knew it would happen you were just eager to spend the rest of your life with him.

When you got home from dinner it was still slightly light out the sun was setting and was almost all the way down creating a beautiful sunset. You went to the bathroom and Art went out to your patio. He turned on the string light he had hung earlier. It was an adorable little backyard big enough for some patio furniture a hammock and maybe a small play set later on. If Art was being honest he thought about purposing to you 24/7 he finally got his grandmas engagement back from the jewelers and was carrying it around for almost a week waiting for a good moment. You walked out to meet him on the patio, he stood behind you wrapping his strong arms around you, sitting in comfortable silence for a minute

“We can put a play set over there you know” Art hummed imagining a little version of you and him playing in their yard.

“Your doing all this baby talk, you know you gotta put a ring on it first Donaldson” you teased. Art knew this was his moment, he unwrapped his arm and grabbed the small box out of his pocket kneeing down. Before you could realize what he was doing you turned around to see why he let go of you. There he was on one knee holding a velvet box out with both hands.

“Then will you marry me?” He asked in a soft tone of voice looking at your like you were his everything. He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t need too. You were so surprised you immediately squealed and got down to his level, you didn’t even look at the ring because it didn’t matter you would say yes no matter what. You grabbed his face with both hands with tears welling in both yours and his eyes

“Yes, Yes, Yes of course” you practically screamed throwing yourself into his arms. He wrapped you in his arms and you both laughed. Then you kissed, not like you had ever kissed before. There was so much joy and passion in this kiss you saw fireworks. He pulled away from the hug and slid the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly and it was beautiful.

“It was my grandmothers” Art said as you wiped a tear from his Cheek your breath hitched in your throat and you smiled. You had known arts grandmother, she died about a year into your relationship. Art was heartbroken it was the first time you had seen him really upset, he was very close with her. Giving you this ring meant the world to him and you knew it. Tears fell down your face as you smiled pressing your forehead to his.

“It’s perfect” you whispered looking down at the ring, He looked at it too feeling how full is heart felt,

“I’ve been stealing your rings so that I could get it resized” he confessed, you laughed wholeheartedly

“I thought I lost those in the move I can’t believe you!” You laughed and so did he.

You realized the sun was fully set now and the lights were the only thing that let you see anything. It was beautiful.

You and your now fiancé sat on the patio lounge couch in each others arms, you were both quiet enjoying the beautiful night still in disbelief.

“You better call Patrick and tell him, you know he doesn’t like being left out” you laughed looking up at Art, he glanced at you smiling

“He’s already on his way with champagne” art admitted and you both laughed.

About ten minutes later you heard Patrick ringing the doorbell over and over again Art ran to the door and you followed

“HEYYYYYY” Patrick yelled nearly jumping into Arts arms. Him and Art laughed and hugged. Patrick loved you, when he first met you it was touch and go he was really protective of his best friend. But as he got to know you and you proved that you loved Art as much as he did he warmed up to you. It sort of felt like Patrick was you and Arts first son. You guys took care of him more than anyone else in his life ever did.

“Welcome to the family!” Patrick joked coming over to you pulling you in for a big bear hug still holding two bottles of champagne. Art smiled watching his two favorite people get along so well. Patrick was overjoyed for you both, he knew how much Art loved you and how long he waited for this.

“My little guy finally grew the balls to ask you to marry him I can’t believe it!” He said ruffling Arts shaggy blonde hair. “Now lemme see old Lilian’s ring” he exclaimed. Patrick was also close with Arts Grandmother, even though she thought he was a bad influence on her “little Arthur” she was the only one who called him Arthur, it always made you chuckle hearing it.

You Art and Patrick sat in your half set up living room drinking champagne from the bottle

“Pat, how are things going with you and y/f/n” you asked Patrick, a few months ago you had introduced Patrick and your friend. You had noticed how alike they were, both party animals who were stubborn but very sweet deep down. Patrick would never admit it but he was ready to settle down, he didn’t want ten girls anymore he wanted one. He was ready for something special, like you and Art had.

“Uhh… good” Patrick blushed trying to hide his growing smile,

“Yeah?” Art smiled, not used to seeing his friend like this,

“Yeah. Great actually. Things are great” Patrick smiled shyly. This was the most he’s said about her. You guys knew him though, he was in love, maybe for the first time.

The rest of the night the three of you drank champagne and talked for hours before Patrick left. Then of course you and Art celebrated alone.

[beenbaanbuun]

the dollhouse w/ choi jongho

jongho wasn’t quite expecting you to be crying when he came home from work, but there you sit, cross legged on the floor sniffling softly. your back faces him, and you’re too caught up in your emotions to hear him softly close the door. the thud of his shoes against the floor doesn’t seem to grasp your attention, nor does the soft pitter patter of his socked feet against the hardwood floor. it’s not until he reaches your side that you notice him.

your eyes are wet when they meet his, all red and irritated from the constant flow of tears. he’d coo over you if you didn’t look so miserable, but he fears it would only make you cry more. instead he takes a seat by your side. his knee bumps gently against yours as he folds his legs, and his hand comes to rest on your thigh, palm up in a silent offer. with a choked hiccup, you take it. your hand, clammy and warm, slips into his like two puzzle pieces slotting together. he squeezes it softly.

“what’s up?” he hums as he leans against the couch, head tilting so he can keep a close watch over your face. it makes him feel better to see you when you’re like this. you don’t always tell him how you’re feeling, but your face is pretty much an open book. you wear your heart on your sleeve in that respect. “is it anything i can help with?”

you shake your head and draw your lip between your teeth. your cheeks puff out slightly as you gnaw on your skin, and he can’t help but sigh. it’s honestly cruel how adorable you look like this. he cant exactly fawn over you when you’re moments away from breaking down. thank god he’s as mentally strong as he is; anyone else would have snapped by now.

“my mum sent me a photo of my old dollhouse,” you whimper, voice shaky and pathetic. it would just be so easy for him to scoop you up into his lap and dote on you… so, so easy.

“and why’s that made you cry, honey?” he holds himself back, sticking to rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. the moment he knows you’re fine, he’ll snatch you up in his grasp; for now his priority is cheering you up. “is it like… bad memories or something?”

you shake your head before reaching to grab your phone from the table. with your face so puffy and red, the face ID struggles to recognise you and with hands so shaky, you can’t type your passcode in. you let out a frustrated huff before jongho pulls the device from your fingers and unlocks it for you. it opens to a picture of an old dollhouse, all pretty and done up, albeit a little dusty. he passes the phone back to you, unsure of what to make of the image.

“i feel so evil,” you murmur, “i just… shut it one day and then never played with it again. i abandoned it, jongho. how could i just abandon it?”

jongho can’t lie, he’s a little taken aback. he feels as though he wants to laugh at your statement, but you seem genuinely distraught by it. this hunk of wood that you’d put into storage one day because you didn’t have a use for it anymore; you really felt as though you’d abandoned it. he hides his adoring laughter behind a hum, bringing your hand up to his face for a kiss so he won’t be tempted to smile. how he’d managed to find someone so pure, he’ll never know.

“i don’t think you abandoned it, honeybun,” he hums against your hand. he gives it one more kiss for good measure before pulling it away. “would you say i abandoned all my race car toys when i outgrew those?” you nod, and this time he can’t help his laughter. you’re just too sweet. “no, baby. just because we outgrow things, doesn’t mean we abandon them when we have to leave them behind. you outgrew your baby clothes but you didn’t abandon them, did you?”

“i guess not,” you shrug and jongho thinks it’s just as cute as everything else you do.

“and your ex boyfriend; you outgrew him, but you wouldn’t say you’d abandoned him, right?” you shake your head, “good—i think it’d kill me if you did.” this time you laugh. it’s sad, and sounds more like it’s being forced from you than it does natural, but jongho is happy to hear it anyway.

it’s his sign.

he pulls his hand from your sweaty one and uses it to grip onto your waist instead. you squeak as he tugs you, but you don’t resist at all. you let him tug you into his lap like you weigh nothing at all. you let him wrap his arms round your waist and shove his face into your neck. it’s hard to stop the giggles when he’s rubbing his nose against your pulse point, but then he pulls away and kisses it instead.

“my precious baby,” he coos, “so sweet…”

[wannaeatramyeon]

Young!Samuel Seo with Young!Reader: Dragons

G/N. You're both not so young anymore. Standalone, but takes place in convenience store AU - basically childhood friends and your family owns a store: Leave him be | Dinner Guest | Doctors and Patients | Baby

"Do you remember when we used to pretend to be dragons?" You smile at Samuel, wistful and caught in a daydream.

You remember when your and Samuel's feet dangled from this very bench, legs not long enough to reach the floor. Watching the changing of seasons from this spot.

Now Samuel’s feet are planted on the ground, his body dwarf yours and his eyes hold secrets you don’t know. 

He huffs a small breath of laughter. Wisps rises from his lips, just like all those other times before, and then is gone forever. Carried away into the frigid air.

There's a hint of stale smoke and awkwardness that never used to be.

Only yesterday it seems that Samuel hit you in the face with a snowball and you cried. Mouth open wide like a black hole and even wailing, you called out his name. Not accusatory, never. Always seeking comfort and he always gave in to you. That time was no different.

Yet the days blur past, as do the weeks and years.

What once was routine, taken for granted - the daily store visits, playing together in the cramped aisles; the sleepovers in your living room under shared blankets, watching films and movies and playing games side by side - dwindled.

From all the time to half the time to some.

Samuel used to give you his evenings and weekends and everything in between. Now you have his once in a blue moon.

Only dropping by when he isn't tending to Gangseo Union or whatever other delinquent interests he has, when he's not occupied with whatever troublesome company he keeps.

At some point he outgrew you, his dreams growing wild and ambitious.

The awkwardness lingers. You think it's always there now. You don't know how you fit with him anymore-

At some point, Samuel set his sights on a new goal. No longer happy with contentment and peace. You don't fit in his new world, shouldn't fit in.

But he will gladly carve out a place for you, just like how you carved out a place for him.

Hold it sacred and precious, guard it with everything, even if you don't intend to ever take it.

He knows spending time with you, visiting, hearing the ding of the outdated till, hanging out under the same buzzing fluorescent lights is no use to who he is anymore. Might be a hindrance more than a help.

Except he returns time and time again. No matter how hardened his edges, how reinforced his defences, he cannot leave you behind.

Even as you drift apart, despite being inches from each other, touching distance-

"I remember," Samuel says.

It's true. He revisits those fond memories, sepia toned and filtered with nostalgia almost every night. You were his shelter. A sanctuary from his nightmares.

He rests his hand on the small of your back as you walk side by side. Steadying you, guiding you, maybe bringing you back to him, maybe recapturing the magic that once was.

(Maybe that never left.)

Breaths, yours and his, in sync and like dragonfire - mingle, irrevocably intertwined; leaving behind the faintest trail.

[tantei-chan01]

John Dory's Conversation

Xxxxx

‘Man this hurts.’ JD thought to himself, holding an ice pack to his eye. You're probably wondering what happened to give JD a black eye. Once the group returned to Pop Village, Poppy immediately contacted the other kingdoms, surprising JD, Bruce, and Floyd with her being queen.

After explaining what happened, a certain rock queen decided that they weren't punished enough and tried to attack them, getting a good hit on JD before being pulled back by a larger troll. ‘But it's not like I didn't deserve it.’ JD thought sullenly, 'After all,what kind of older brother just abandons the baby of the family.' 

That's what's bothering him. 20 years ago, after failing to reach the perfect family harmony, he just packed up his essentials and basically abandoned his family. It didn't matter if he eventually came back. Having your brothers walk out on you is a pain that can't be redeemed. JD sighed in regret, "You know, they say if you sigh, a piece of happiness leaves you."

JD turns around and sees Delta walking towards him, a soft smile on her pretty face. John gives her a sad smile, "It's not like I deserve any happiness, after what I've done."

Delta frowned as she sat next to him, "Now, Sugar, you know that's not true."

"Isn't it?!" He looked down, digging his nails into his palms, "I left my baby brother alone! And for what?! To hike the Everglade Trail?! To not be in charge and run away from any sort of responsibility like a coward?!" He could feel the hot tears threatening to come out, but he held them back, he didn't deserve it.

Delta gently took his hand and gently relaxed his fingers, rubbing the nail mark on his palm, "I'm not going to lie to ya, John, you made a mistake, a big one." She gently caressed one of his many calluses on his hand, "But that doesn't mean you're irredeemable."

"I could've taken him with me. I could've spared him all this trauma if I had just taken him with me."

"Or ya could've put the both of you in danger! Don't you remember how I found ya?"

JD blushed in embarrassment, "I'd rather not remember." 

"You were passed out in the middle of the desert, with heat stroke and no water for miles! Those goggles certainly didn't help keep you cool." She would never forget that day. What you think would be a routing check for stray buffalo ends up becoming a rescue of a strange troll in a puffy jacket.

"Still though," he messed with his goggles, a nervous tick he never outgrew, "I could've done something."

"John, you can't keep thinking of what you could've done. You have to think of what you can do now. Branch is right here, still waiting for his brothers to show that they still love him. He may not forgive you right away, but isn't he worth it?"

JD closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He remembered holding onto Branch's egg after he saw their parents being carried away by a bergen. He remembered how small those hands were against his, how Branch would hide in his hair like all trollings would do with their parents, the first time he heard him giggle, all precious moments.

"Yes," he opened his eyes, finally clear after so long, "he is worth it. It doesn't matter if it takes the next 20, 30, or even 40 years to forgive me. I'm not going to leave him, not again."

Delta smiled at him, happy to see the determination back in his eyes, "That's what I'd like to hear."

[alicent-archive]

oh nothing I’m just thinking about Alicent and Aegon again.

he's her baby. but not for very long because he's the firstborn. and he's not a child for very long because he's a prince. and princes have better things to do than cling to their mother’s skirts, no matter how strong their fists are.

and suddenly he’s not a prince anymore because he's a king. but she never had time to process having a baby, and so this thing that wears her face is not really a man but a boy. but he hasn’t been a boy for a very long time.

and she had him young. her belly grew bigger as she outgrew dresses and skirts and shoes because she was still growing. and when she had him, her father looked down and proclaimed him a conqueror.

but he wasn’t a conqueror, and she didn’t feel like a mother; they were both children.

a child queen and a conqueror's babe.

and all his memories of her are ones where she still had baby fat in her cheeks. she was a tiny mother and a small queen. and Aegon remembers.

he remembers her holding him; small hands and thin arms. but they held him, those thin arms held him up, and he always felt taller in his mother’s arms, he felt braver.

it's hard to know which one of them Viserys ruined more. Alicent doesn’t like to dwell on her fleeting girlhood, and Aegon doesn’t like to dwell on the shape of his father’s skeleton under his flesh.

it’s easier to pretend that he was never really wanted by anyone. (do you love me?) she thinks Aegon makes a horrid son but a dutiful legacy. (you imbecile.)

but they know each other more than they want to, and although the son is made in the image of the father, he cannot escape the blood of the womb.

[kipkoh]

Owl House prompt!

Human Darius carrying baby Hunter in a chest carrier. I love the art you did of that and would love a fic for it.

Also available on AO3.

The winter air was brisk as it caressed the visible skin on Darius’ face. He took a sip of his coffee as he waited for the bus, sighing at the warmth spreading throughout his body to combat the chill threatening to overtake it from the outside.

Thankfully, Hunter didn’t seem to have a problem with the cold – all bundled up and swaddled in the warmth his father radiated, comfortable enough to have fallen fast asleep with his cheek pressed to Darius’ chest. He was getting a little too old for a carrier, but Darius couldn’t deny how easy it was to carry around an overactive toddler in a sling soft enough to frequently knock him out. The positive reactions he’d experience from those observing him wasn’t exactly a downside either.

“Aw, how cute!”

“What a good dad.”   “That baby looks so sweet…”

Darius took another sip of his coffee, choosing to pretend he didn’t hear the whispers. If someone wasn’t talking directly to him, then he wouldn’t insert himself into the conversation unnecessarily.

“I wonder where the mom is… That poor baby.”

“That child is going to freeze to death! Clearly that man isn’t fit to be a father.”

Of course, not all the whispers were always good. Darius especially went out of his way to ignore those kinds. He didn’t need baseless critiques from strangers to cloud his mind and ruin his day.

He finished his coffee, threw away the cup, and checked his watch, starting to grow impatient at how late the bus was that morning. It was a good thing Hunter was asleep or Darius might have felt bad for having to feed him a later lunch than usual. 

When the bus finally arrived, Darius clambered on with the rest of the crowd, frowning at how little space was available for him to squeeze into. The seats were filled and so he stood up close to the front, hand gripped onto the handle above his head, trying his best to make sure no one bumped into Hunter by angling him away from everyone as much as possible. The jostle of the bus as it sped through traffic made that goal that much more difficult, and Darius considered himself lucky when at one point, Hunter’s carrier accidentally bumped one of the seats, but aside from a small murmur, Hunter did not make any indication his sleep was disturbed by the contact.

As dense as the crowd was, Darius would have held Hunter anyway had he not been in a carrier, but having his hands free to play defense against the bombardment of movement and people was a lifesaver. It would be a shame to have to get rid of it eventually, but Darius was going to make sure to use it for as long as he possibly could – whether that be when Hunter outgrew it or when Hunter was no longer small enough to want to do anything but run around in blissful freedom, unconfined to a fabric prison.

Darius exited the bus when it reached his stop, sighing in relief at the fresh air and unoccupied space all around him. He began walking to his destination, steps careful and calculated to make sure the stride was as even and uneventful as possible so as to not disturb Hunter. The last thing Darius wanted was to trip on a crack in the sidewalk and frighten Hunter awake with a fall.

It was a short walk, but the way the breeze picked up made him worry, and so just to be sure, Darius pulled his glove off just enough to press a finger against Hunter’s cheek. It wasn’t warm, but it didn’t feel to be uncomfortably cold, and Hunter’s sleep still appeared to be peaceful enough to where Darius could assume he was fine.

Being a father was a strange experience, and before, Darius never would have imagined himself in the position he was currently in – a single man with a toddler dangling from his chest that brought him constant worry alongside an overwhelming love. It wasn’t as if Darius hated kids in general, but parenthood had never been something he considered for himself until Hunter came along.

He certainly didn’t regret it. That sweet little boy with his face tucked into the fabric of Darius’ jacket was Darius’ entire world. He tried to imagine himself in that instance without the weight hanging off him and had to stop at the sense of mourning the idea brought about. A life without his son was a life he no longer wanted now that he’d experienced the love his presence brought about.

“I love you,” Darius whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of Hunter’s head.

He wasn’t sure if it was coincidence, but just after, he heard Hunter mumbled something and watched as he slowly came to, opening his eyes and yawning as he reawakened to the world.

“Have a good nap?” Darius asked.

“Mhm,” Hunter hummed, still groggy as he looked around to take in his new surroundings.

Darius smiled and continued walking down the block until he reached his destination, opening the door to the bakery and stepping inside, immediately getting assaulted by the warm heat of the building and the smell of freshly baked bread. Hunter experienced it all the same, realizing where they were and wiggling to indicate it was time for him to be let out. It would have been impossible for anyone to tell he’d just been sleeping with how much energy suddenly engulfed him in that moment.

Darius obliged the silent request and lifted Hunter from the carrier, setting him down on his feet on the floor and watching as he quickly ran up to the display case to take in the sight of all the sweet treats Darius knew he’d try and get him to buy.

“I want that one, daddy!” Hunter practically yelled, just as Darius expected, while pointing to something inside the case.

“Are you sure you want that one? You’re only getting one so you might want to look at everything first,” Darius reminded.

“Two?”

“One,” Darius gently said again. Hunter wasn’t a big eater and probably wouldn’t even make it all the way through one pastry.

“One,” Hunter whispered to himself, his face so close to the glass his breath fogged it up. Darius put a hand on his shoulder and directed him to take a step back.

It took a few seconds but Hunter finally decided, pointing to a different pastry than the first and excitedly announcing, “That one.”

Before he could change his mind again, Darius bought him the pastry along with one for himself and ushered Hunter over to a small table by the window, watching him climb onto the seat and waiting in case he needed help. When Hunter was situated, Darius took his own seat beside him and handed him his treat, which he happily began to consume like he hadn’t eaten a big breakfast just a few hours prior. 

Darius loved moments like that – moments where he could just sit somewhere peaceful and enjoy a domestic moment with his son. He was a busy man with a busy job, so he wanted to be able to take every opportunity possible to be there for Hunter to make up for that. He wanted Hunter to grow up knowing what it was like to have a parent willing to take him out and just enjoy a small treat with him every so often. Darius was careful to make sure Hunter understood he was loved, but he wanted to make sure he expressed it in all the little ways he could think of and not with just a simple statement followed by an aura of indifference that might possibly suggest otherwise, because that wasn’t what Hunter deserved.

“Is it good, daddy?”

Darius was pulled out of his thoughts, his eyes drawn to Hunter’s finger. He was pointing to the pastry in Darius’ hand, only a few bites taken out of it.

“Yes, it’s very good,” Darius assured, taking another bite as if to prove that point further, “Do you like yours?”

“Mhm!” Hunter hummed after taking another bite of his own, smile wide on his face and his little legs kicking under the table in glee.

Surprisingly, Hunter did end up finishing his food, but didn’t ask for anymore. He just sat and chatted Darius’ ear off while Darius cleaned up the table and tossed their garbage into the bin behind him. Then, Darius helped Hunter out of his seat and made sure his winter wrappings were still snug and warm around his body as they prepared to once again trek through the cold.

“Do you want to walk or be carried?” Darius asked.

Hunter thought about it for a few moments before tapping his feet against the floor and reaching up to slip his hand into Darius’.

“Walk,” he announced, body practically vibrating with pent up energy, barely even able to stand still.

Yeah, the carrier was a long shot, but Darius could still try. Maybe once they’ve walked enough, Hunter would get bored or tired and request to be carried, but until then, Darius squeezed his hand as they walked out the door and journeyed onwards to their next destination.

[saynomorefic]

One Two Three pls? <33333 Super intrigued bc I genuinely have no idea what it could be about/it's mood based on the title!

Ohhh Liaaaa oh no .. you have stumbled into my dirty mind lol

This is my threesome fic. Even more scandalous, there are actually two versions

Version A: Wille is a good friend to Simon, so when Simon tells him he is curious about having a threesome, as a good friend he wants to help.

They were four shots in at Felice’s birthday party when he brought it up. “Wille,” he said, looking out at the dance floor. Wille was halfway into a conversation with his friend Tiago, and the gesture would typically be rude, but Tiago just peeled away as Wille turned his head. “Have you ever had a threesome before?” 

Wille turned his body to face Simon, curiosity taking over his features. “Where is this coming from?” He asked, non-judgmentally. Generally, Wille was a sex-positive person, which was evidenced when they had gone to get tested together at the free clinic a few times. He’d introduced Simon to a number of his hookups, and had helped Simon get over some of his own hangups in talking about sex. Wille wasn’t one for longer relationships, usually, so Simon figured he’d be a good person to ask. 

Simon felt his face redden before he could stop it, but he was feeling bold tonight. He looked out on the dancefloor, masses of bodies dancing together. In particular, one group of particularly muscular guys were gyrating onto each other, halfway between performance and pleasure. Wille followed his gaze out to the dance floor and laughed.

Version B: Wille finds out that Simon used to fantasize about having a threesome, but it never worked out. They're supposed to get married in a couple months. So what the hell is he going to do about it?

Felice shook her head some more. She parted two of her fingers and looked out at Wille. “You are unfair. You know I can’t keep things from you when you’re making that face at me.” 

“I do no such thing!”

“You absolutely do! You do it to Simon, too, although he’s gotten better at resisting you.” 

“Just tell me. I'm his fiancee, Felice!” 

“Okay. Fine. It’s just - apparently he went through this phase, a few years back, where he really wanted to have a threesome. It almost happened several times, but one of the guys would always bail, or not be who they said, and Simon didn’t want to take home random guys from bars he didn’t know.”

“Why wouldn’t he tell me?” 

Felice looked at him sweetly, pityingly, and it made Wille want to hurl. 

“Wille, baby. Simon loves you more than anything. I’m sure it’s not a big deal. Maybe he outgrew it.” 

The image started forming in his head. A younger, more naive and experimental version of his fiancee getting turned on by the idea of being with two people. Two sets of hands flanking him, two sets of eyes watching him lose himself to pleasure. Two anatomies meeting his own, competing and colliding for Simon. A train barreling forward on its tracks, Wille instantly felt arousal flood through him, entirely unprepared for it, especially not here. The air was thick and heavy, and Wille didn't know how to come back from the thought to the present moment. 

[squiddosss]

salutations fellow human being! if you are taking requests, may i suggest the aouv crew (there needs to be a better nickname for them) as children? idk just an idea

p.s. this is also a reminder that al had a bowl cut when he was 6-7 years old :) do what you will with that info :)))

I AM ALIVE! [insert 20 exclamation points here] ok but seriously sorry for dipping off the face of the planet :(

here’s the line up! i kinda forgot everyone’s exact ages. i’m going to go ahead and say the characters are in 3rd-5th grade right now. also isn’t elionor one of the oldest champions?? uhhh idk

additional headcanons:

we all know Reid is a huge nerd. he probably leaned into the nerdy-ness a lot as a kid. this kid wore starwars shirts every day. also glasses, (i believe this is canon)

Isobel was actually rather quiet as a kid. she preferred books over people, and liked talking to adults more than kids her age. she was still exceptionally clever and motivated, but she didn’t really learn how to be sharp-tongued and ambitious until she befriended Briony. she owes her people skills that got her through the months before the tournament and all the reporters to her best friend. 

Briony basically coerced Isobel into joining a thing called spell scouts. think like boy scouts or girl scouts or any other youth program but for a magickal world. things like nature and survival skills were taught, but also the basics of spellcrafting and ethics of spell using. (just imagine them in their little uniforms)

Finley was pretty athletic and played a few sports, but didn’t fancy working with a whole team. he attempted junior league soccer (wait… football??? i am american help) but found that he preferred scoring points for his team rather than with his team. he did summer swim at first and running, but wouldn’t discover fencing until he was older (i believe he is the team captain in high school) oh, he also totally did summer theater camps. 

Alistair TOTALLY had a bowl cut. unfortunately, he has curly hair. Marianne Lowe thought his curly hair (which he inherited from his father, whoever that could be) was unbecoming for an eventual Lowe champion, so Alistair’s mother would have to magickally get it to stay straight every day. this is part of why Al lacks freckles— whenever Al went outside, humidity would turn it back into a curly mess. so, under Marianne’s instructions, he just never went outside. he later stopped straightening his hair (and outgrew the bowl cut thank god) but the habit of staying indoors stayed with him. 

Elionor experimented with dying the ends of her hair when she was younger. the blues and pinks never really showed through because her hair was brown, but she liked it, so that’s all that really mattered. she also wrote fanfiction and posted it to online forums despite technically not being old enough to use them.

after losing their father and having their mother leave them, it was hard for Briony and Innes to feel noticed within the large Thorburn family. they went about trying to feel accepted in different ways. Briony, obviously, was loud and learned to announce her presence to feel heard. Innes preferred a more subtle approach, learning a particular relative’s interests and schedules to find a way to slowly do little things to win them over. stuff like doing their chores or completing their hair. 

Carby was like… basically a baby at this point. so… [insert toddler personality trait here]

Diya definitely did extracurriculars at school. she won the spell fair (like the science fair but… y’know… spells) three years in a row and was a member of the book club that included a tournament with other schools at the end of the school year (which she won, duh) she was pretty competitive with it, too. 

Gavin… thinking about his childhood makes me so not ok. he realized pretty early on he was basically a sacrifice to a tournament his family would never win. Gavin knew about the tournament, and realized he would be the champion, and had always seen how distant his parents were, but didn’t realize what that really meant until a bit later. 

OK BUT SERIOUSLY THANK U FOR REQUESTING THIS!

[vintageshanny]

Play Something For Me - Part 3 - Impossible Dream Realized

Writing Prompt: “You’re staring.”

Content: Elvis in Vegas late summer 1973, fluff, smut, 18+

There will probably be at least a couple more parts to this, so if anyone wants to be tagged please let me know. Link to series page is at the bottom. 😘

Elvis raised his head from Ruby’s stomach and gave her a big smile.  “I have a lot of things in store for you, sweet red Ruby,” he grinned.  Ruby blushed and looked away.  “Aww, honey, I think it’s so sweet that ya never outgrew that blushin’ thing,” he teased.  Ruby smiled a little bit and admitted, “I actually think that’s something special just for you.  No one else calls me red Ruby, at least.”  Elvis’ face lit up a little bit.  “Is that right?  Well, my, um, music must have some powerful hold over ya then.  Why don’t ya change into somethin’ more comfortable and we can discuss what else is just for me.”  “I didn’t bring anything up here with me,” Ruby said nervously, smoothing her dress back down over her exposed areas.  Elvis rolled off the bed and rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a pajama top that matched his own.  “You can wear this, and I’ll have someone bring your stuff up here.  I want ya stayin’ with me.”

Elvis sat on the edge of the bed while Ruby got up to change, pulling her dress off and standing before him in just her lacy bra.  “You’re staring,” she whispered as she pulled the pajama shirt on, suddenly self-conscious about revealing herself to him.  “I can’t look at what’s mine?” he asked in a low voice that sent a shiver down her spine.  She was surprised by his immediate possessiveness of her, but in some strange way it also thrilled her to be wanted in this way.  She hadn’t felt like this in so long…maybe ever.  She didn’t remember her ex-husband ever looking at her with this kind of passion, not even as he unceremoniously rammed into her for the first time on their wedding night.  

“You can do more than look,” Ruby said the words boldly, but she knew she was blushing again as she stepped toward him and gently traced over his chest with her fingertips.  She pressed her hand against his heart and could feel it racing beneath her palm.  She was surprised to feel his whole body trembling as he pulled her down onto his lap into his warm embrace.  “Are you okay?” she whispered, running her fingers through his thick sideburns.  “I-I-I’m okay, baby, I-I’m jus’ a little nervous, I guess,” he chuckled.  “I’ve thought about this moment a lot, and I don’ wanna disappoint ya.”  “I already told you that you never could,” Ruby murmured in his ear as she reached down and felt the hardness of his length that was poking the side of her leg.  “Mmm,” Elvis groaned as she rubbed her hand over him.  “Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered.  Elvis nodded wordlessly with his eyes closed as she continued to caress him through his pajama pants.  “Ever since you leaned over me on that stage and I saw the way your pants were straining to contain this, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how much I want to see you again.  To see…all of you.”  

Elvis opened his eyes wide with surprise as Ruby looked down in embarrassment.  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.  “That sounds stupid.”  “No, baby, it’s not stupid at all. I’m just surprised that my sweet red Ruby has got such a dirty little mind,” he teased, making her flush and playfully swat at his shoulder.  “I just hope I can live up to the memories that ya have.”  “We can sit at the piano, I know how that turns you on,” Ruby said with a smile.  To her delight, this joke was rewarded with one of Elvis’ loud hiccupping laughs.  “No piano necessary, baby, this time you’re gonna be the one singin’.”  “Is that so?” she whispered, leaning into him, pushing him back against the pillows.  “Maybe we can sing together. A duet.”

Ruby slowly unbuttoned his silky pajama shirt and pushed it open to reveal his hairy chest and belly. There was a softness to him that made her lean in and leave a trail of kisses down his stomach. Elvis moaned a little bit and ran his fingers through her hair as she followed the soft furry trail all the way down to his waistband, her anticipation building for the prize just below it. Ruby tucked her fingers into the waistband of his pants, and he lifted his hips so she could slide them down.  Again she noticed him trembling as she laid her eyes on his bare body.  “Ohh,” she breathed out in amazement.  “You moaning like that just from the sight of him, baby?” Elvis smirked, trying to cover up his nerves with bravado. “He looks even better than I remember,” Ruby exclaimed as she moved in close to get a better look, examining the way he wobbled a little bit with excitement, his swollen head poking up out of the foreskin, needing attention. She ran her fingernails lightly down his torso, through his treasure trail of fuzz all the way down to his patch of pubic hair, causing him to shiver a little bit and give her a shy smile. “Even bigger too,” she added as she wrapped her hand around him and recalled how he felt in her hand that first time. She could see Elvis trying to hide his delight at this compliment as she leaned in and kissed the tip of him, licking up the bit of fluid that was leaking out. “Oh, Ruby,” he moaned out, reaching for her.  “I-I-I need to be inside ya. Been w-waitin’ so long. C’mere, baby,” he reached out and unbuttoned the shirt that she had just put on as she climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.  As she carefully lowered herself onto his throbbing cock, moaning the whole way down, he caressed her breasts through her lacy bra.  Once he was fully consumed by her, she started riding him, gently rocking her hips as she placed her hands on his warm chest.  It was not a position she was that used to, but something about him filling her up, so deep inside of her, while she felt the intense pounding of his heart felt so right.  

It was the first time Ruby had ever experienced two orgasms in one night, but the best feeling of all might have been the way Elvis called her name in a high-pitched moan as his hips stuttered up into her for the last time, an intense wave of pleasure washing over his entire body.  She lay down on his thick warm chest as that other thick warm part of him softened inside of her, soaking in the rapture of such an intimate moment before Elvis carefully scooched out from under her and went to get a cloth to clean them both up.  As he settled back into bed next to her, he stared into her face and stroked her cheek gently with the backs of his fingers.  “W-w-was that okay for ya, honey?  Did I take care of ya?” he asked gently.  “Oh, Elvis, it was perfect,” Ruby whispered, feeling tears well up in her eyes.  “It was a moment I’ve been dreaming of for so long, but I just tried to push it out of my mind because it seemed impossible.”  “Me too, honey,” Elvis responded, looking at her with concern.  “What’s wrong?  Why are ya cryin’?”  “I just, I feel so right with you.  No one’s ever been so tender with me. I don’t want it to end,” she whispered.  “Shh, s’okay baby, it’s only gonna get better from here.  I’m gonna treat my sweet red Ruby right. I-I’m so glad we found our way back to each other.” Ruby buried her face in his chest, trying to believe him, trying to ignore the looming heartbreak that the end of the week would bring.

@thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @whositmcwhatsit @from-memphis-with-love @powerofelvis thank you all for the love and support ❤️

[evesaintyves]

for @remadoramicrofics - it outgrew microfic status, almost 2000 words, but i'm submitting it anyway. combining October prompt guts and October 14th challenge triptych.

three acts of bravery, maybe. read it below or on AO3 🎖

Packing up sets the world back in order. He learned to do it before he learned to tie his own shoes. With his mother clucking get your things, Remus—hurry now and his father directing the flight of reference-books into a box, wand swaying, face of stone, it was clear that sentimentality was only a weight to be dragged. He learned very quickly to snip any string that might tug at him—he is nothing if not a quick learner—and, eventually, to evade those ties altogether: to harbor no love for the peaked attic bedroom with the view of the river, the back garden overrun with primrose and gnomes. Nor the blue-eyed neighbor girl who peeked through the fence-slats. 

It is a kind of art, to keep a life small enough to fit inside one suitcase, and it has saved him from more tight corners than any countercurse he might throw in a duel.

When Tonks put her hands to her belly, eyes all sparkling with some unrecognisable joy, and said now, don't freak out, I have to tell you something: it was a strangling feeling, like a dog snapping at the end of its lead. There had always been a way, until now, to walk off and start again. This miscalculation would be the end of that. Now he was chained to his regret, she was chained to him, and the thing inside her was chained to its brutal future.

He didn't freak out. He watched her lips move, her hands grab at him, and calmly, silently, he made the only conscionable decision.

Tonks made a mess of the house before she left; even the velveteen hippogriff she bought for the baby is lying on the floor, eyeless, disemboweled and spilling its batting-scrap guts. She screamed at him, she called him a bastard. And a liar. It doesn't matter, he's been called worse. He's been worse. It was satisfying, in the end, to see her finally understand: she took her hands off him like she'd touched something disgusting, her mouth quivered, she backed away as if in terror: how can you just stand there, she breathed, raspy from all her carrying-on, and look at me like a fucking stranger?

Easy, he might have said. I am a fucking stranger.

But he didn't say anything because he didn't have to. She was crying so hard when she apparated off to her mother's that he thought she might splinch herself—and a week ago, or maybe even this morning, that might have curdled his insides with terror and dread. 

But he has unhooked himself from his insides. That's an art, too, and he's well-practiced: it can be every bit as natural, he finds, to feel nothing as it is to feel something. Easier, even, once you've mastered it. 

He clicks shut the suitcase, knots the length of twine.

James, he says to himself, I'll find him. I'll give everything I have.

It isn't much. He's got hands that know how to kill and the will to do it. He's got a ruined body, still absurdly walking the earth while so many more deserving have returned to it. He's got the shame of all his generation's failures, the cans they've kicked down the road to their children. And he's got a monster inside: lusting, ravenous, insane, goading him to go after her, bury his face in her powder scent and beg, to confess that I want you, I want to live, I want to have what I want—

What higher calling, for someone like him, than to put all that between Harry and a curse?

 

Shh-shh-shh, Tonks whispers. She presses a kiss to the warm dry scalp, with its menthol smell of ointment, its tickling hairs. We're going to Nan's house.

Teddy, on a brief intermission from wailing, roots his red little nose and mouth against her shirt. He's always hungry, he's been on her sore tits all day—he was latched when the call came from Kingsley. It is never enough.

She can't just wait. She's not a keeper-of-the-home-fires. She's springloaded, a coil of taut potential straining for release—trained to fight three-on-one, to throw jets of wandless fire from her open hands, to keep her pulse rate seventy-steady all the while. They need her, they can't spare her, what is she doing here?

Waiting for death to come and find her, that's bloody what. They'll step over Remus's body ( he's a good fighter, not the best —these awful thoughts won't stop— he's distracted, scared, has too much to lose. His clicky old knees could betray him. He'll think of the baby, lose his focus, miss by a centimetre and that's the end. It could have already happened ), they'll swarm the castle like driver ants, and then they'll come for Teddy. She'll be in pieces before she lets them get to him, but once she's gone he'll be so helpless, swaddled in his bassinet. She won't have it. She won't sit and let it happen.

She stands there for a moment, in the dark house, with Teddy bundled to her chest. He's winding himself up for another cry, back spasming, a bubble of snot in his nose. It'd all be easier if she could just get him to sleep, but she's not good at that—it's hard not to let it feel like a failure. He's cried so much in this house she can hear it even when he's quiet, the sound has soaked into the walls. This, here, is the life these three have only just begun to make: the kitchen table permanently sticky with jam, the tousled bed: biscuit crumbs on her side, a stack of books on his. The baby's things everywhere, socks and sleepsuits, corduroy dragon, the cot overturned in her rush to get going. Blankets gushing out over the rug.

That's what she's got to go and fight for. This is only the start! They've got years, so many years, so much happiness and lost time to make up! So many knuckle-kisses, murmured sweetnesses under the duvet, Remus jiggling the baby through colic all night, giving her his worn-out smile from the doorway—God, fuck, she's never even told him about the time her dad took her to the zoo and she morphed herself a crest like the iguanas! The Obliviators had to come and zap everyone, Dad turned the colour of beetroot trying not to smile! He'll laugh himself sick!

She's got to go, so she can tell him. That and so many other things. He keeps appearing in her mind: sprawled across flagstone, hole burnt in his robes, face up and staring at the Great Hall's fake sky. Do you know what's up there, behind all the magic? he asked her once, years ago on a mission together, sitting hidden in the boughs of a tree. When she shook her head no, he said, Spiders. It's infested completely, there are a million. And cobwebs thick enough to swing on—don't ask me how I know. He waggled his eyebrows, charming in a way that was unlike him and perfectly fitting all the same. She was so taken by the thought of eight million eyes watching her little self perch on the stool at her sorting that she just grinned at him, gormless. He looked at her face like he was deciphering runes. And it's clear, now, that he was hers at that moment. Since that moment, he has been hers.

She won't let them have him. They've taken too much already: Dad, Mad-Eye, Sirius. The hope of every muggleborn kid who should have, this year, looked for the first time up into that indoor sky and felt the touch of wonder. She can't get it back, but she can make them pay for it. She's got enough revenge boiling down in her gut, it could power a thousand killing curses—she could explode with it, it could set her on fire—

C'mon, baby, she says. Teddy's shivering breath is so warm, so soft, on her chest. We've got to go.

 

When Nymphadora was a little girl, long before she got her wand, she used to break a stick off the sycamore tree and run about brandishing it, casting made-up hexes, making explosive sounds with her mouth. Halt! she'd shout at the imaginary enemy. Andromeda never knew where she'd gotten that. Ted's little black-and-white telly in his office, maybe. She'd jump off the garden wall, land on her face, pick herself up and announce, I'm okay! Even when she scraped up her elbows, even when she knocked out a tooth. She was always okay.

Andromeda has never asked—and who? Who would even tell her?—but she thinks that must have been how they found her. Faceplanted in the mud, wand out in front of her. Little warrior. When she handed the baby off that night she had that same look on her face: I'm okay, said through a mouth of blood.

Teddy is more of a dirt-digger, beetle-watcher, masher of rose hips into pretend potions. She has to stop him at the door and check his pockets lest he bring home a toad, a wriggling handful of earthworms. That's a bit of Ted coming through, she's pretty sure. This afternoon, she watched Teddy stop his potion-mashing, squint into the mess, and fish out a pill bug with his chubby little fingers. He held it up to show her: roly-poly, he said proudly. He's only just started pronouncing his Ls. He set the bug aside on the grass and recommenced his mashing.

Teddy's a lover, he doesn't like to kill things. That's the privilege of a peacetime child. For lunch he gets spaghetti hoops on toast, his grandfather's guilty favourite, and then a little kip upstairs. Andromeda cleans the mud off his dungarees, and off the carpet where he's tracked it in, and off the doorknob and the bathroom sink and his booster chair.

Nymphadora and Ted used to chuckle to each other at her arsenal of scrubbing charms, the shirts folded in squares. Like that sort of thing was her idea of fun. No. That was the daily fight against entropy. Her daughter, born under the standard of this potted aspidistra, raised in this tidy defiance of the mess outside, never understood. She went charging off with her wand out and left Andromeda to walk the floor all night for months with this little war on her shoulder, the baby that wouldn't stop screaming—and who could blame him? Andromeda understands that desperation, that longing for something impossible. The night they buried his parents, Teddy cried like he was begging God. 

Andromeda didn't. She doesn't beg.

I know what you think you're doing, Narcissa told her once, a week before she left with Ted forever. She'd cornered Andromeda in the upstairs hall, gripping her wrist and hissing so that Father in his study wouldn't hear. You think you're doing something brave. You're not, you're just running. Anyone can run.

Andromeda would never concede that she was right. She wasn't—not about Ted, not about leaving home. But still she thinks about it. There's an Order of Merlin upstairs, in the locked room that was Nymphadora's, gleaming in its velvet case. For her courage. Her sacrifice. There's no denying that she earned it. But days like this—when the house is silent and Andromeda is folding dungarees, rinsing tins of spaghetti hoops—she wants to take her long-gone daughter by the shoulders and say: my darling, you have no idea.

images by edward hopper: a room in brooklyn, sun in an empty room (detail), rooms by the sea (detail)

[gemini-sensei]

Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz x Already Pregnant!Reader pt. 2

Fem!Reader ○ fluffy cuteness ○ part one

CW: light bullying but it's just Kyler so 😒

So it became official. Hawk asked Reader out on a date and that was all it took for them to be absolutely smitten with each other. It wasn't an extravagant date, but it never had to be. All that mattered was that they were unapologetically happy with each other and by the end of that week, everyone knew it.

Of course there were some people who had something to say about it, especially when the rest of the school found out she was pregnant with another person's baby, but Hawk never paid them any mind. Giving them attention would just be giving them lip service and that was the last thing he wanted. It was the last thing Reader needed, which was why the big sweaters were used to begin with. She didn't want to start gossip at her new school, she just wanted to finish school. That only got more difficult when she outgrew them, but Hawk had a solution before she even had to ask "what now?"

His hoodies weren't much bigger than her sweaters, but they were just as cozy. They also didn't actually hide her belly, but accentuated it. Her curves filled in the piece nicely and her bump was on display, rounding out the front of his hoodies beautifully. She was worried about it at first, but his scent wrapped around her eased her mind and she happily snuggled into the warmth. There were still some concerns in the back of her mind, but it turned out that she didn't have to worry about them at all, because when people saw her wearing Hawk's clothes, people knew better than say anything to or about her.

Most people anyway.

Kyler, the ass that he always was, had something to say of course.

When she and Hawk were walking by, Kyler was talking to his friends with a smug tone of voice. "Yeah, man, I know I would never go for a girl already knocked up by some other guy. Ya know, 'cause her body isn't... what's the word? Fresh anymore."

His friends laughed and it rang in Reader's ears like an alarm. She tensed up and Hawk felt it, pulling her close and kissing her head. He whispered an assurance in her ear before turning.

His eyes locked on Kyler and he spoke evenly. "I guess that's why you're still an immature brat and I'm a man."

A few ooh's rang out around them, some from Kyler's own "friends." He looked pissed and ready to square up, but Hawk didn't back down. He just pulled his arm from around Reader and clenched his fists, ready for whatever pathetic punch Kyler was going to throw. He didn't even have to put his fists up for Kyler to back down, which was a smart move on his part.

With a smirk, Hawk turned and took his girlfriend's hand, then led them away from the group and would be crowd of spectators. In retrospect, he's glad a fight didn't happen because it would have just put attention on Reader and that was the last thing she wanted, and it was the last he wanted for her and the baby.

Hawk doesn't care that the baby isn't technically his. As far as he's concerned, the baby's his. He's the one there for Reader, taking care of her, joining her at appointments. He couldn't help but think about it in the sense of it being his baby. For some time, he kept that idea to himself because he didn't want to make Reader think she had to accommodate him into her life like that, especially if she didn't want him like that.

However, that wasn't the case. She fell for him quite hard, even more so after they started dating and he showed such tender affection to her belly. The baby would kick and she'd wince as they seemed to have a dance party in her belly. He'd come close and rub her taut and rounded out middle, calming their movements to easy kicks and wiggling around. He spoke softly with a smile on his face.

"Hey, take it ease in there. Your mama does so much for you and you repay her by kicking her in the kidney? Come kick me instead."

There was no escaping how those moments made her feel. She marveled at them, smiled as she watched him. It made her heart warm and flutter; he's made her feel like the only girl in the world. She loved that he not only cared about her, but her baby too. She couldn't have asked him of that, especially since they're so young, but he had no problem with it at all. He made sure to tell her that if she ever felt discouraged or like she was somehow holding him back; he told her how this was his choice, and how loving her meant loving the baby too.

He put his hand on her belly as they kissed, rubbing it gently. He put all her worries to rest and when he pulled away, he smiled at her. "I'd be honored if the baby ends up calling me daddy."

[taras-toe-beans]

Finally wrote up my backstory bash stuff! Some of these were definitely a real challenge for my tav, given that he grew up in the Underdark and is over a century old, but I gave it my best shot. Feel free to ask me any questions!

Izzrhys Illith'vir | 103 | Drow

Oath of Devotion Paladin of Ilmater

Baby

Parents:

Izzrhys is the child of a mother from a merchant family and a father from a family of weaponsmiths. Their union was mostly a practical one, rather than one born from love. They were commoners, but fairly well-off, especially following the decision to join families.

Birth:

Izzrhys was the second child, and the first son in his family in Menzoberranzan. As such, he was a bit of a disappointment from birth, but he was fortunate enough to be healthy enough to not become a sacrifice to Lolth.

First word:

No. Izzrhys was a very fussy baby, and easily upset by new situations. He quickly learned words to tell people to stop, to stand his ground. As he grew older, he learned quickly that this wouldn’t be enough to protect himself.

When they first walked:

Izzrhys learned to walk younger than average. He showed a lot of strength and physical control from a very young age, and it was much to his advantage, since his older sister, Malanna, literally tried to kill him in the crib. He had one more younger sibling- his little brother, Valdaer at this point.

Tantrum:

Again, Izzrhys was a very fussy baby, but he quickly outgrew it after the punishments he faced. Lashings, berating, having scalding water thrown on him when he expressed disinterest in doing what he was told. He didn’t throw a lot of tantrums, per se, but he cried a lot in private.

First sickness:

The first illness Izzrhys can remember having is a case of Scaleflake, which he and a few other drow children caught from playing in contaminated water. None of them experienced particularly detrimental symptoms, but he experienced a lot of pain and discomfort, and was ridiculed fiercely by Malanna.

Thunderstorm:

Izzrhys never saw thunderstorms as a kid, as he lived in the Underdark. The closest he experienced were heavy fogs that obscured most of Menzoberranzan. He was afraid of the fogs, especially since crime seemed to spike when visibility was low.

Childhood

Friends:

Izzrhys did not have a lot of real “friends” growing up. Everything was cutthroat, and he felt like he constantly had to watch his back. His only real friend was Valdaer.

Siblings:

Izzrhys had several siblings. By the time he was sent off to the military academy, he had an older sister (Malanna), a younger brother (Valdaer), and three younger sisters (Elthara, Alyxyra, Ilpheyl). He also had another younger brother who was born and immediately sacrificed to Lolth.

Getting into trouble:

Izzrhys never got in trouble for doing “bad” things. He was punished for showing empathy and emotion from a young age, and showing softness in the face of drow society. He was berated, told he would never live past ten years old, and beaten and tortured, even by his own family members. The conditions at school were even harsher.

Birthday:

Izzrhys was born on the 26th of Kythorn, and his equivalent zodiac sign would be Cancer. His birthday was never celebrated growing up.

Games:

Izzrhys usually shied away from games that other drow children played, but he did take some interest in watching Sava matches- that is, basically the drow equivalent of chess.

Learning something new :

Izzrhys was a very quick learner when it came to languages. He spoke mostly Drowic in his home growing up, but picked up Undercommon quickly and drow sign long before he ever needed to put them to practical use. He also picked up some words of Dwarven language simply by being near Duergar slaves. Izzrhys was sent to the military academy in Menzoberranzan pretty young, and there, he finally learned how to at least pretend to be cold, cruel and calculating. He also was quick to pick up different combat arts.

Trauma:

The better question would be, what didn’t traumatize Izzrhys as a child? He faced all the typical drow neglect and abuse of their children, was disconnected from his peers, and lived his whole life in constant terror. He developed pretty severe arachnophobia, which finally reared its head a bit after he came to the surface.

Teenager

First love:

Izzrhys was in his early 20s the first time he felt like he really loved someone. Vlondril, a drow hunter, and Izzrhys were in a completely secret relationship for several months. While their relationship was not super deep and very short-lived, they were both able to open up to each other in a way they felt they couldn’t do with anyone else. Vlondril always brought back small trophies from his hunts (think the teeth of an animal, a unique stone, an old piece of jewelry). He was killed by a hook horror while out in the wilds with his band.

Rebellion:

Izzrhys never rebelled outwardly because the consequence was literally death. The closest he got to rebellion was seeking romance and sex outside of his forced relationships.

Running away:

Izzrhys tried to run from his military academy once, after they tried to have him kill another student. He was beaten within an inch of his life and still forced to carry through with the killing.

Reckless behavior:

Izzrhys was a little older when this happened, but he had a lot of relationships with people he shouldn't, as he could've been killed if he was caught.

Peer pressure:

Izzrhys killed a lot of people because of peer/societal pressure. This was mostly during rites/to defend his partners/during patrols. He is not proud of the things he did, but it's beyond peer pressure. He did what he did so he could live another day.

Growing pains:

Trying to transition from academy to actually being a soldier was tough. He found himself hypervigilant around his peers, even though he knew they were to fight together- not be in literally cutthroat competition. With this transition, he was also forced into a family, paired with a woman from a prominent house. He didn't even know how to start pretending to adore her.

Taking responsibility:

Izzrhys didn't have much in terms of responsibilities, other than having to feign loyalty and protect those that he patrolled with. He did a good enough job at both, and by the time he was in his 20s, he didn't catch much negative attention anymore.

Adulthood

Their “first time”:

Izzrhys' first consensual time (obviously excluding the women he was a consort to) was with someone else who was a soldier for the house he worked for. He was about 20, and this was before his relationship with Vlondril. He had quite a few casual hookups before entering his first real relationship.

Serious relationships:

Izzrhys didn't have his first truly serious relationship until he reached the surface. He was in his late 80s when he started dating Alcraes, a cleric who worked at St. Laupsenn. He thought that they might have a future together, but when he had to leave Waterdeep for everyone’s safety, he broke up with Alcraes. He couldn't bear to put his beloved in any more danger, and things were already starting to get tough due to some unresolved trauma. At the Rivington/Baldur’s Gate area, Izzrhys formed other relationships over time. He had about three or four that could be considered serious, but a lot more flings and first dates.

Work:

In Menzoberranzan, Izzrhys was a soldier for different drow houses and traded to whoever he became a consort for. He spent his days patrolling and his nights doing whatever pleased his partner at the time. During this time, he sired several children.

After he left, he never got the chance to look around and find work. He recovered from severe injuries from his journey to the surface in St. Laupsenn and never left the Ilmatari church. He went from learning how to heal minor ailments to help at the hospital to wielding a sword in Ilmater’s name. After his move to the Open Hand Temple, he spent a lot of time aiding adventurers who needed a shield and helping the poor in and around Baldur's Gate. About five years into his time there, he decided to pursue joining the Order of the Golden Cup.

Leaving home:

Izzrhys left Menzoberranzan in his late 80s. He spent weeks struggling through the wilds of the Underdark, but knew he could never go back. Following the death of his brother and only confidant, Valdaer, he learned that the other drow had been planning to escape. He found some of his plans, made changes accordingly, and fled. He came to the surface near Waterdeep, where he was immediately met with hostility by a merchant caravan. He was beaten almost to death and thrown off the side of the road to be left for dead. Izzrhys was rescued by some clergy of Ilmater.

Aging:

Drow age slowly, and Izzrhys still feels incredibly young, especially having just started his life on the surface within the past couple of decades. He's never been able to imagine himself growing old. After all, Menzoberranzan drow rarely became elderly. Even after his escape, he always figured he would fall in battle somewhere, not die peacefully. He also knows that he's going to outlive Gale, and probably by a lot, but he's decided he'll just have to make peace with it one day.

Finding your place:

Despite the strangeness of having a drow as part of Ilmater’s clergy, most of the people he's been with at the Open Hand Temple have grown to love him. He has been able to freely be himself because he falls so in line with most of Ilmater's tenants, and he can do what he loves, which is helping others, alongside other like-minded people. He has watched many of the clergy who are humans and other faster-aging races grow up, grow older, and as such, he feels like he's firmly rooted in the order.

Starting a family/found family:

Marrying Gale is a big decision, given that Izzrhys belongs to the Order of the Golden Cup. If he marries, he realizes that he won't be able to advance all the way in the order. Yet, he understands that he can still do pretty much everything he wants to do without being higher-ranked. Actually moving to Waterdeep with Gale was an easy decision, since he's familiar with the city and has a place to continue his work. He absolutely loves Gale's family once he meets them, feeling like they fulfill a need that he never had met before.