#The world is already so full of pain and suffering

[crescentlyautumn]

.

Feeling a little sensitive today because I get so tired and upset seeing everyone shaming and bullying people who try to find little wonders, joys, and happiness in the world. It’s ok to take things as they come. It’s ok to not think everything is terrible at all times. It’s ok to be kind and be so filled with love that it’s suffocating. It’s ok to not be cold and cruel. That shouldn’t be something that’s wrong.

You can do both and you can know that life isn’t easy or always perfect. But treating others as being dumb or immature for still fighting every day to see the beauty in life and in the world isn’t something I want to be a part of. It just hurts.

[foxcassius]

also lucky for me the cheapest shipping option was also the shipping option that will have the yarn at my house by saturday LOL

[bohemiandeer]

You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.

But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.

Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.

I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.

FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - afab!reader, non/con, implied drug use, breeding kinks, obsessive/delusional behavior, gojo talks about his ex during sex and you can't change my mind. happy valentine's day <3

“This is my first Valentine’s with somebody to celebrate with, y’know.”

Satoru’s slow, melodic voice was just barely outpaced by his idle movements – his hips rolling lazily against yours, each thrust more languid and lethargic than the last. His blunt nails dug into your skin where his hands had your wrists pinned over your head, and somehow, he’d managed to turn the feeling of satin sheets against your back into something rough and cutting. The taste of chocolate and bitter wine clung to the inside of your mouth, but you shouldn’t have been drunk enough for your thoughts to be this clouded, this muddled. A few hours ago, you’d been sure that amount of wine could ever get you into bed with Gojo Satoru, and yet, here you were, suffering silently underneath him as fuck you like he had all the time in the world.

“I mean, there was Suguru, but he wasn’t really the romantic type. I’d be lucky to get a box of chocolates, n’ I was still the one handing out most of the affection. To little thanks, of course.” Were you in his bedroom? You had to be. This was definitely his bed, and with your head lulled to the side, you could see scattered tea candles littered over dressers and bedside tables, forgotten clothes left in crumpled piles on the carpeted floor. You might’ve been wrong, though. When he wasn’t on campus, Satoru lived in a luxury apartment – the best money could buy. Luxury apartments didn’t have bars over the windows and locks on every door. “Not that I mind spoilin’ you,” he backtracked, his voice taking on the faintest notes of a teasing inflection. “It’s just—It’s nice to feel appreciated, sometimes. Suguru was always the selfish type. I’m sure you’ll be a lot sweeter with me, though.”

One of his hands fell away from your wrists, soon reappearing at your chin. Taking you by the jaw, he eased your head back, forcing you to face him properly. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, let alone a proper blindfold, and even in the dim light, his star-bright eyes were almost unbearable to meet. You tried to jerk out of his hold, to straighten your back, but your body refused to respond, your limbs little more than dead weight and numbing static. The only part of yourself that you could feel was your pussy – soaked and hot and vice-like around his cock. You wanted it to stop, to go dry, to make this as unpleasant for him as it was for you, but his public bone scraped against your clit and instead, you clenched around him. A low groan bubbled past Satoru’s lips, his eyes fluttering shut as he bowed his head and nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “Already bein’ sweet with me,” he babbled, now partially muffled by proximity. “Just wanna be my little sweetheart, huh? Wanna be good to me?”

His pace picked up, his hips starting to move against yours in earnest. The force seemed to knock some intangible block out of your throat, and suddenly, little whines and whimpers were flooding out of you, cracked moans trickling past your lips in little, stunted hiccups. You tried to spit something coherent out, to tell him to slow down, to get off of you, to stop, but your tongue was too heavy and your lips wouldn’t cooperate and all you managed was a string of pained gibberish, dented and beaten by pitiful, dazed sounds. Satoru only cooed in response, nipping at your collarbone, the curve of your neck. “So, so good for me.” He drew back, leaving just enough distance between you to slot his lips against yours. His tongue raked over yours, and by the time he pulled back, he was breathless and you were dazed beyond any hope of full consciousness. If he was bothered by your glassy eyes, though, your slack features, you couldn’t tell. He was smiling when he pulled away, his expression nearly as gaze as your own. “Hey, baby…”

If you were able to, you would’ve screamed.

“If I knock you up, think we can do this again next year?”

[notglue-9]

About My AU

This is about how 8 souls in Minecraft afterlife,try to live in peace and harmony.

Random facts about world/lore:

• You can’t stay at night for long as your own nightmares and fears will begin to haunt you.

• Catnap has had corruption three times. And each time it gets worse and more painful.

• on a full moon in Cartoon world, Catnap will turn into that same creepy version of himself from his past life.

• Bobby: mother/big sister figure

Bubba: Big bro/Father figure

Kickin: best Bro/best friend

Hoppy: best sister/best friend

Crafty: comfort shy bestie

Picky: the same kind aunt who will feed and take care of you/sibling figure

• Catnap lives with Bobby or Bubba.

The guys built houses for each other while they were in the afterlife. And they built a House for Dogday in advance.

• It hurts Catnap to show other emotions with his mouth, so he always smiles. But in the animation "Overnight" he was so upset that he didn't care about the pain and to show his sadness to Dogday he erased his smile

About Medallions

medallions are their souls.

Catnap collects the negative emotions of other critters. This makes his medallion increase. Although he helps others, it’s worse for him if he collects a lot of negativity within himself. He's in pain and reaaally Sick.💀

Each critter has their own cracks in their medallions. They show their emotional state.

Why is Catnap's medallion different?

it’s just that Catnap is punished for what he did in a past life. He pays back by helping and providing therapy to others there will be a rollback from negativity only if someone helps him. But no one will help him yet. The worse the Catnap medallion stage, the more his voice disappears, his beautiful lullaby voice becomes either mute or creepy.

The reason why Catnap is still cursed with this "therapy" ability. He feels guilty for all his mistakes. And it haunts him. His guilt hits harder than other negative emotions of smiling critters.

Sometimes a big red cloud hangs over him in the shape of his past life. And until he forgives himself and does not help others. He will be forever cursed and suffer

Cracked or Cursed Medallions symptoms

When Catnap is too overwhelmed with negativity. He coughs up Red Smoke.

But it doesn’t affect the others in any way. Although other critters are scared by this smoke. Especially Dogday.

Broken medallions.

These are souls that have not found peace, traumatized, broken. They feel bad mentally.

About ARCS.

Arc 0. - Catnap's Therapy. Pilot lmao

Arc 1. - Eclipse, nightmares and dreams,"I'm sorry"

Arc 2.- Corruption,Hey Dogday,,the groundhog Day,comics about other Critters

Arc 3- (Red crescent arc) - Your face,Camping, Theatre, others in future

Arc 4.- After prank, overnight,Moon's everyday Life.

Arc 1- Everyone hates Catnap. They shun him. Beat him,kick him. Bobby was the first to befriend him.

Arc. 2.Catnap helps them cope with their traumas that have begun to appear and interfere with their lives.

Arc 3.They are all more or less well. Some notice Catnap's strange behavior. Dogday has a hard time accepting Catnap. He already wanted to more or less make the relationship better. But the Red Moon appeared.

Their voices ,Their speaking style

Dogday: The deep voice of a veteran who went through a 100-year war. But sometimes it changes to squeaky if it experiences strong emotions. He remained expressive, but his face is always angry as if it would bite you.

Catnap: Actually he was mute. But he was given a voice in the afterlife. He still can't get used to it. His voice is very gentle, cold and pleasant to the ear, like the Cradle. His voice is also designed for singing.

Bobby: Calming tone, tactile when communicating. Sometimes she makes beautiful speeches. And very chatty. Loves to gossip.

Bubba: Monotonous and calculating Voice. He speaks briefly and clearly. And doesn't gesture at all and he is very passive.

Kickin: He deliberately makes his voice tone rougher to seem cool. He comes up with different slangs and often makes funny gestures. But when he's scared, his voice becomes very squeaky and he chirps like a Chicken.

Hoppy: She has a loud and confident voice, like a fitness club trainer. She will never tire of shouting motivational words at you. She often jumps and runs around you. She doesn't sit still while she chats with you.

Crafty: A gentle and sweet voice, like a princess. She is often distracted and has Daydreaming Syndrome.

Loves fairy tales and everything that is not from reality. She can debate her point of view about creativity

Picky: She has a very fun and playful voice. But sometimes you don’t understand whether she’s happy or ready to roast you in a fire.

A truly charming farmer and chef. Loves the Western theme.

[hamsternella]

maybe a sfw alphabet🤭 stanford!!

Stanford Pines SFW Alphabet

A= Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Stanford is an eloquent man who always knows what to say on many subjects, as long as that doesn't mean he has to be clear about his feelings. And it's not because he doesn't feel it honestly; much less that he doesn't love you as intensely as you love him. It's just hard. It's that simple.

Ford would choose to show his affection for you with actions. Words are not going to be lacking, but showing you how he feels rather than saying it is much easier. So outside of shyness, this man is full of affection and tenderness; and always ready to let you know it. There isn't a day where you don't find his gaze full of love, with a smile painted on his face and his fingers trembling with the need to caress your cheek.

B= Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start)

Here is something to consider regarding three primary moments.

Arriving in Gravity Falls, Ford turns out to be an educated and interesting man. He is young, with a bright future and lots of fresh ideas. You meet him during a walk in the woods; it could also be outside a store, where you make conversation and help him carry his groceries. Be that as it may, you and Ford promise to meet again, and inevitably become very good friends. He enjoys a company to surprise with his discoveries, feeding his ego as a scientist and first-time researcher; and you find a place of comfort among books and secrets that fill your head with fantasies and stories. He is a trustworthy man, with a kind heart and good intentions. He is an extremely pleasant person.

During the construction and management of the portal Ford becomes paranoid and insufferable. He begins to become selfish, and even borders on narcissistic as his head fills with voices that lead him down strange and disturbing paths; his dreams destroyed as he seems to coexist with those who don't belong in his world. Needless to say, at this point your friendship with him fragments. Ford does not seem to trust you, and his words as well as his treatment of you are given with violence and bad taste.

Today, returning after so many years, Ford is a man weighed down by the miseries he had to suffer as payment for his past ambition. You find in his eyes the ghost of regret; and although it is difficult to completely forget the pain and mistreatment, it does not cost you much to reconcile to recover the bond that had been suspended in time. That Ford you missed, with his sweet eyes and sensitive heart, has returned. Your best friend.

C= Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Ford loves to give hugs, although it's not something he recognizes as such. He does it almost unconsciously. Sometimes you are sitting on the couch or in his study, in peace, other times even outside soaking up the sun and watching the kids play; and you will find his arm hanging off the back, wrapping around your shoulders so he can find a space to rest or to feel closer to you. It is trust and affection that lead this man to feel at home with those people who are special to him. You are already family!

D= Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

The idea of settling down fits Ford like a glove. At first it's complicated, because all his attention and commitment goes to science. But if he can find someone who can fit into his lifestyle, the option certainly begins to feel possible.

Now... let's see. First you have to keep in mind that this guy has been lost in other dimensions for years. All he knows about recipes are abominations impossible to find in the human world. It's as simple as that. Despite this, Ford is quick to learn; so a recipe book, and some help, can get this guy to master the skill and make friends in the kitchen.

As for the rest, Ford is not a dirty man but a messy one. He understands himself, just the same. It's as if the mess works in patterns and guides him to everything he needs… that, or he just forgets and doesn't say anything so as not to embarrass himself. Whatever it is, someone help this man.

E= Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It's hard for him, but he does it quickly and without spinning. Ford likes to get it over with as quickly as possible so he doesn't have to keep seeing your face. It's like taking a stab in his heart—the need to take you in his arms becomes dangerous.

F= Fiance (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

The idea of marriage doesn't enter his head until he meets someone with whom he feels he is entirely compatible. Other than that, Ford is a man who is not afraid of commitment in any form.

G= Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Extremely gentle. Ford is a tender man, with feelings that hurt against his chest because of the intensity with which he allows himself to be affected by those he cherishes. Physically he can be clumsy, but he is gentle nonetheless.

H= Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it and what is it like?)

He likes them without a doubt. He doesn't ask for it much, though; but he accepts them without a problem. He always does it with a smile. He thinks the gesture is nice.

I= I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It takes him quite a while to say it without a problem. It's not that he doesn't feel it, it's that he just has a hard time with it. Chances are you'll end up saying it first, and eventually Ford will have the confidence to take the initiative and take you by surprise. As he does so his eyes twinkle, and the corners of his lips twitch with the birth of a shy smile.

J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they get jealous?)

Ford is not a particularly jealous man. If he does feel that way, he is likely to frown and look annoyed or uncomfortable. He would be embarrassed to admit that such an attitude was the result of a jealous rage.

K= Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are slow and sensual. Ford loves to kiss you on the lips, forehead and neck.

For his part, he likes to receive kisses on the lips, on the back of his hands —which he considers a sweet gesture and appreciates greatly— and on the cheek.

L= Little ones (How are they around children?)

Ford tends to be a fun and sweet man around children. He's responsible, and you can easily tell he enjoys taking care of them. He tires quickly, though.

M= Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Despite having a lot of projects on his plate, not sleeping and, sometimes, not eating properly, Ford has an uncanny knack for waking up early. He does it with sleepy eyes; but always with a goofy smile if he happens to find you, the kids or Stan around the cabin. Always the tousled hair, the slow walk and the slightly hunched back—but that's okay! A good breakfast, a moment in the fresh air and this guy is ready to start the day! He does it quietly, though.

N= Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Although there is always something to research or do, Ford prefers to take a moment to enjoy a role-playing campaign, a movie or a walk with you if the evening is perfect to allow it. Sometimes the time is perfect to lie in bed, with a couple of hot drinks or sweet snacks, and some books. It doesn't matter what; but Ford has to spend the nights with you if you're there. There is no way to miss a moment that is special to him.

Hopefully you get to spend some family time with the others, too!

O= Open (When will they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or do they reveal little things slowly?)

Many of his secrets, or special details, are things Ford has told you long ago. After his return from the portal, it will be difficult for him to continue to share many others with you—but it's not impossible.

If you meet Ford after his return from the portal for the first time in your entire life, it's going to cost him three times as much. It is assumed that in this case you are new and that leads to distrust, fear of rejection and ridicule.

P= Patience (How easily are they angered?)

Not so easily. Ford is patient.

Q= Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail or forget the minor things?)

Does he remember your favorite flavor? But of course. Does he remember that day, on that date, back then, more than ten years ago...? But please, of course he does. This is Ford we're talking about; this guy does role-playing campaigns, runs his own library on alien languages, and has even gone so far as to learn the colors you don't like about the candy you two eat on movie nights. He always sets them aside for you to eat in peace. He always remembers.

R= Remember (What is their favorite moment of your relationship?)

To have met you. To run into you was to have given him the opportunity to have an amazing person like you in his life. That day surpasses any other discovery—coming to Gravity Falls, and seeing you with his own eyes. You are now a part of his life; every day is an ideal moment. In the bad, and in the good.

S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

Ford keeps an eye on you whenever you accompany him on his quests deep in the forest. He is more than ready to fight to keep you out of danger, using his weapons or even his hands if necessary. Taking care of others is a priority.

But speaking of himself, Ford wouldn't know exactly how he would like to be protected. Maybe have his life saved if he finds himself cornered; but it would be difficult considering his experience. It's difficult if he has someone on the side to look out for, of course. If that person is also experienced, then he would like to fight side by side. It would be fun.

T= Try (How much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

A lot of effort, although it is quite clumsy and in the end requires the help of someone else to put his ideas in order. If it's about his feelings it's hard not to lose his head in the process.

U= Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Despite being a sweet person, Ford can become quite inconsiderate when there is something he wants/desires very much, and in turn there is someone in the way to reach that goal. From hurtful or uncomfortable words, to acts that go so far as to make you feel abandoned. It's as if there's a button in his head; something that transforms him into a silent, dark and detached man from the real world.

Also, Ford can end up being very overprotective; and even have narcissistic attitudes for which it is better to walk away for a moment so as not to start a fight. It's not always.

V= Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not too much. The most you've seen him struggle is with his beard. Ford prefers to incinerate it for an instant tidy look... and not so safe, though.

W= Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

In the beginning, yes, definitely. It would take Ford years to get over your loss, and there would even come a point where he would have to accept living with that pain if he can't fill the void, or understand that you're not coming back.

If he were to overcome it, there would be times when homesickness would hit him hard; but he could go on with life as usual. Ford has suffered enough losses already—one more shouldn't stop him in his tracks.

X= Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

Ford can sleep anywhere, and in almost any position. It's a skill he's acquired over time. Sometimes it takes you by surprise to arrive at the cabin at night, and find him fast asleep in corners that make you feel as if you're going to wake up with an intense pain in your neck. It is enviable, especially at his age.

Y= Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

Violent, delusional, crazy and demonic people. Especially if they happen to be creatures from some other dimension with anger issues.

Z= Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of theirs?)

If you put your shoulder near him, chances are Ford will eventually drop his head on it. Sometimes he even goes so far as to intertwine his fingers with yours.

[mcgrammar04]

A PROMISE IN THE DARK

Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: After enduring relentless cruelty from your family and betrothed, Aegon Targaryen, you break down one night, revealing the depth of your suffering. Aegon, moved by your pain, vows to protect and care for you. He exiles your abusive family and forces them to apologize, marking the start of your healing journey.

You lived in a world of silence, a place where your voice had long been stolen by the cruelty of those meant to protect you. Your family’s abuse had silenced you so thoroughly that you could only communicate through your eyes and your silent tears. The betrothal to Aegon Targaryen was supposed to be a chance for a new beginning, but instead, it became a new source of torment.

Aegon, with his royal air and a crown that should have symbolized justice, became a new tormentor in your already painful existence. He found cruel amusement in your silence, often mocking you in front of others. His words were like daggers, each one aimed at the heart of your already fragile sense of self-worth.

"You know, it’s quite amusing," Aegon would sneer, his eyes glinting with malice, "how you choose not to speak. It must be quite a skill to pretend to be so superior just by keeping your mouth shut."

His jabs were relentless. His laughter echoed through the halls of the castle, a constant reminder that your suffering was entertainment for him. Each day, you tried to shield yourself from his barbs, but they were like relentless arrows, piercing through your defenses.

The nights were the worst. When the castle’s corridors fell silent, you would sit alone in your room, clutching a faded piece of fabric that once belonged to your mother. It was the only remnant of the warmth and love you had known before your family’s abuse drove you into this cruel new reality.

Your family’s abuse had been systematic, a steady erosion of your spirit. They had isolated you, belittled you, and made you feel as though you were nothing more than a burden. They had taken away your voice, your confidence, and most painfully, your sense of belonging. When Aegon came into your life, it was meant to be a rescue, a chance to escape the shadows of your past. Instead, he became a new source of pain, a mirror reflecting all the harshness you had endured.

But there were moments, rare and fleeting, when Aegon’s gaze softened, when his cruelty was replaced by something like curiosity. It was on one such evening that you felt the strain of your silent existence come to a breaking point. The castle’s grand hall was filled with laughter and conversation, a stark contrast to the oppressive quiet of your own life. Aegon had been in particularly high spirits that night, mocking you with a cruel jest that drew laughter from his courtiers.

“Do you not think you’re depriving yourself of so much by remaining silent?” Aegon’s voice rang out. “How can you bear to miss all this? Perhaps your silence is the result of some deep-seated fear, or maybe you simply enjoy being the center of everyone’s attention through your absence of words.”

The jest was met with laughter, and you felt the familiar flush of humiliation. But tonight, something inside you snapped. The weight of his words, the weight of your family’s cruelty, the weight of your own isolation, all crashed down upon you. You felt as though you were drowning in a sea of despair, and you couldn’t hold on any longer.

As Aegon continued his mocking, you felt a tight knot of emotion form in your chest. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and you could no longer hold back the tears. You collapsed onto the cold stone floor, your body shaking uncontrollably. The laughter of the courtiers faded into a distant murmur as the overwhelming sensation of pain and sorrow consumed you.

Aegon’s laughter died abruptly as he saw you break down. For the first time, he was confronted with the full extent of your suffering. His eyes widened in shock, the cruel mask slipping away to reveal a flicker of concern. He knelt beside you, his usual arrogance replaced by a raw, genuine emotion.

“What is happening?” Aegon’s voice was softer now, tinged with something like fear. “Why are you—”

The words caught in your throat, unable to escape past the storm of emotions. You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears. It was then that Aegon saw not just your silent suffering but the story behind it, the profound depth of your pain. The realization of what he had been complicit in hit him with a crushing force.

Aegon took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I didn’t know,” he murmured, his voice filled with a newfound understanding. “I never realized...”

He helped you to your feet with a tenderness that was foreign to him. The harshness in his gaze had been replaced by a solemn determination. “I am truly sorry,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t understand the depth of your suffering. I never meant for you to be subjected to this. I promise you, I will make it right.”

The promise was more than words; it was a vow of change. Aegon’s eyes were filled with a mixture of guilt and resolve. “You will be cared for and protected,” he continued, his tone firm. “And as for your family, they will face justice. They will be held accountable for their cruelty.”

You could scarcely believe the transformation in Aegon. The man who had once mocked you now seemed genuinely committed to making amends. He left the chamber, his footsteps echoing with purpose as he began to set things in motion.

In the days that followed, Aegon kept his word. Your family was summoned to the castle, their expressions a mix of fear and defiance. When they arrived, they were forced to kneel before you in the grand hall, their arrogance stripped away by the gravity of their situation.

“Beg for forgiveness,” Aegon commanded, his voice resonating with authority. “You will apologize for every moment of pain you’ve inflicted. Only then will you face the consequences of your actions.”

Your family’s once imperious demeanor crumbled as they knelt before you, their faces contorted with shame and fear. They begged for your forgiveness, their pleas echoing through the hall. Aegon’s gaze remained steely as he observed the scene, his resolve unwavering.

“From this day forth,” Aegon declared, “you will be exiled from everything you have ever known. You will live in isolation, removed from the society you once dominated. It is the least you deserve for the suffering you have caused.”

As your family was led away, you felt a mixture of relief and sorrow. The justice served was necessary, but it came at a cost. The wounds of the past would take time to heal, but with Aegon’s newfound understanding and commitment, there was a glimmer of hope for the future.

In the quiet that followed, Aegon approached you once more. His demeanor had softened, and there was a genuine compassion in his eyes. “You have suffered too much,” he said gently. “I promise that from now on, I will be your protector. I will ensure that you are loved and cared for, and that no one will ever hurt you again.”

The sincerity in his voice offered a fragile hope. Though the path ahead would be difficult, Aegon’s pledge to protect and cherish you gave you a new reason to believe in a brighter future. The journey to healing was just beginning, but for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find solace and a new sense of belonging in the midst of this tumultuous world.

[allmightluver]

@hhbluedynamite I’m going to make separate post here to address this. Tumblr mobile is a pain and I can’t add all picture examples I want to it here goes.

This has been a debate ever since My Hero came out,

“Why are All Mights eyes black?”

There’s been multiple explanations from how his borrowed quirk works to simply his own emaciated state. I’ve come up with my own theory. It’s said the eyes are the windows to the soul. I believe All Might’s eyes grow darker the more “weight” he carries.

For example,

When All Might was a kid, his eyes were normal. White. After losing his family, rendering him an orphan, white. Even after losing Nana, still he looked normal.

And after first releasing to the public.

This is because although he’d already been thru hell and back emotionally, he’s still normal. Even with his quirk.

Then, after he’d been in the game a while, they suddenly darkened.

Why?

Because by that time, the full gravity of his position, his responsibility and the realization he was essentially alone in that place, had fully sunk in.

Because he was so over powered above everyone else, everyone including the heroes left him to take care of almost everything they felt was too hard. And because he’s a selfless person at heart without a care to his own safety, he willingly allowed it to happen without asking for help. He didn’t want to risk losing anyone else. Which is also why he didn’t take on any sidekicks.

Until Nighteye.

Vigilantes showed us Toshinori when he wasn’t being All Might. And his eyes turn back into white in his more relaxed form, albeit with tired lines beneath them. However this is when he had Nighteye to count on. And Nighteye can see the future, so perhaps he would be safe, right? Well we know what happened there.

After he and Nighteye break up go their separate ways, we never see Toshinori with white eyes again. (Unless I’m forgetting so please tell me if I am). Now he’s injured, only a handful of people to trust, and none can truly understand what he’s going through. At this time he truly is alone, and the one thing that gives him joy is slowly but surely being fizzled out within him.

All Might’s eyes continued to remain black for years. Even after giving his quirk to Izuku. He still felt the weight of the world on his shoulders because he feared for Izuku’s safety. Blamed himself for every scar and Injury the boy suffered thru. Even though he was retired, nothing had changed. In fact it was worse now, because he could do nothing to help anymore.

And then he gains support items to face AFO for the last time. He’s a distraction, a willing sacrifice to slow the monster down, and he couldn’t be happier. We see the whites of his for the first time. All through the fight we see them, shaded albeit, but they’re there.

When he speaks to Nighteye asking if this isn’t the place he was meant to die, Nighteye confirms that it is. The fact that he’s still alive makes him raise the question, why is he still here then? I’m the mentor, Izuku is a ready and worthy apprentice. He doesn’t need me anymore. I’m supposed to be dead by now. His eyes seem darker here, as if the weight and his own depression have increased again. Perhaps begrudgingly accepting his fate.

But then here after Nighteye tells him he reads too many comic books, and that there’s no way he would go out that way, we get a closer look. Although his eyes are still shrouded in black because of his emaciated state. His eyes themselves are clearer, brighter. Even if Nighteye is only in his head, his words are still bringing him hope deep down.

While being tended to medically, his eyes are dark again, though I believe this is mainly due to him barely being alive and conscious at this point. And they’re still white, more than we’re used to seeing.

Finally after the war while they’re recovering, his eyes remain white, though they’re still shaded. The weight is still present. His work isn’t done yet. Izuku is losing his quirk, and he still feels like a failure in some sense because of that. Also because he and Bakugo almost died. And because of everyone who did die in the war all because he failed to stop AFO after three tries.

People who weren’t qualified to be heroes were even involved in this battle. And he thinks it unfair to hold such high standards when there are people who can still help, even if not at the extreme levels of the top heroes. He and Deku are proof of that!

In the last chapter several years later, we finally see Old Man Might! And his eyes-they’re so bright. ❤️

Of course they’ll always have a little shadow to them because of his sunken in appearance, but the tired lines under his eyes are gone. There’s not the black bags from pushing himself too hard, just the normal wrinkles that come with age.

This is Toshinori that’s been missing for decades. The man whose impossible weight has finally been lifted off his shoulders. He knows he can finally relax, he doesn’t have to be on alert or on call anymore. The world is safe without him.

He even found a way for Izuku to keep up his hero work with a suit similar to his own during the war (though most definitely suped up).

Finally, he can be at peace. His body, soul, and mind can finally begin to heal. He can work through all of the trauma he’s been stuffing down all of his life.

Finally, he can live.

[onlyangel4]

life of pain. LL30. final part. smau + written.

liam lawson x chronically ill reader

reader has dealt with pain for as long as she can remember but what she did not respect was for her pain to be the reason she met her soulmate.

author's note: i shall be writing this from experience so reader suffers from elher's danlos syndrome, chronic pain syndrome and chronic fatigue syndrome. but if you have a different chronic illness please do imagine it as that

faceclaim: kristine froseth

part one

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sleeping most of the day helped you greatly, you were able to get all that rest that you truly desired and your joints ached a lot less when you woke up from your second nap of the day. you flicked your phone all and checked the time. shit, liam was going to be at your hotel within an hour.

you reluctantly peeled the bedsheets back and climbed out of the warm abyss and began digging through your suitcase but nothing seemed good enough. you were about to have a racing driver in your room, you needed to look good, but you had never been really good at this shit. so you quickly grabbed your phone a face timed your best friend.

to say that she was shocked to find out you were going to be hanging out with one of the drivers was a little bit of an understatement "holy fucking shit y/n, how do you always get yourself in these situations", you just laughed her off and you guys go to work on picking an outfit that screamed casual, i did not try too hard while also not looking lazy. and once you had finally done that and promised your best friend she was going to get the full run down on your time with liam you hung up and began cleaning the room ready for him to come over.

y/ninsta posted a story

written: today's fit

once your hotel room was finally to your liking you took a moment to breathe. it was difficult to wrap your head around what was about to happen. in mere moments a f1 driver was going to be in your hotel room to just hang.

growing up you watched f1 every race weekend with your father, it was one of the main things that you were able to bond on. you would set up the tv in your hospital room after surgeries just so you could watch it together but as you got older and moved out of your family home. you kind of just stopped watching. yes you kept up with the teams just so you could talk to your father about it on your weekly phone calls but you were no longer the little super fan that you had been.

being able to surprise your father with paddock tickets was a way for you to force yourself back into the world of formula one, you knew that after seeing a race in person you would be hooked for good, who knew that you were also going to get to spend some personal time with one of the drivers.

you had been so caught up in your thoughts that you had not heard the first knock at the door, but the second one pulled you from your whirlwind of thoughts, "coming", you called out taking one last look in the mirror before going to the door, a smile plastered on your lips.

as the door opened you were met with liam standing there, he had two bags in his arms and he returned your smile. "hey y/n", he spoke as he walked inside.

"so i brought you a burger and some fries, i hope you like it", he spoke and you smiled at his thoughtfulness

"you already know me too well mister lawson", you teased playfully as he handed you the bag of food.

liam explained that he was on his race weekend meal plan so he was unable to partake in the fast food and instead pulled out a carefully curated meal that had been made for him. you both took a seat on the floor of your hotel room and just ate and spoke. it was really nice, liam was refreshing. yes he talked about racing and his life but he was more interested in wanting to get to know about you and what your life was like. as you spoke about your family and friends, you caught liam looking at you like you were the only person in the world. it was enough to make your heart jump in your chest and cause you to stumble over a few of your words but you powered on.

it unsurprising that you and liam both caught up in each other's company it was only when liam's watch buzzed to alert him that he had a meeting in fifteen minutes that you realised you had been sat yapping for over an hour.

"you have no idea how much i want to skip this meeting right now, but i think i'll lose my seat", liam spoke making you laugh as you stood up to walk to the door.

"it was lovely talking to you y/n, i'm glad you are feeling a bit better. i for one am really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.", he spoke softly, "and maybe carry on seeing you after the race", he spoke carefully as if he was testing the water between you.

your cheeks flushed softly at the thought of continuing seeing him after this whirlwind of a weekend, "I would like that liam", you spoke softly.

that was when liam reached down and took the unbranded baseball cap off your head putting it on the ground, he removed the rb hat from his head and gently placed it on your head, "much better", he whispered lowly before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. one that you quickly reciprocated. it was gentle and loving as if you had forever.

"goodnight liam", you whispered softly when he pulled away.

"goodnight darling", he spoke before making his way down the hall leaving you to shut the door behind him smiling like the cheshire cat.

y/ninsta posted a story tagging liamlawson

written: someone hustled us garage tickets

y/ninsta posted a story

written: all celebrations in the rb garage DOUBLE POINTS BABY!!

liamlawson

liked by y/ninsta, oscarpiastri, alexalbon and 638,283 others

liamlawson: finally relaxing after a whirlwind of a season

view all 23,485 comments

user1: A SOFT LAUNCH

alexalbon: does the baby finally have a girlfriend

liamlawson: finally

user2: really was not expecting a soft launch from liam, he has not be pictured with any girls at all

oscarpiastri: idc about you, what is the dog called

liamlawson: glad you have your priorities straight mate that is marshmallow

y/ninsta

liked by liamlawson, y/bff, user3 and 643 others

y/ninsta: life lately

view all 23 comments

y/bff: a man???!!1

y/ninsta: babe you have met my man let's not act surprised

friend1: pretty girlll

liamlawson: the prettiest

user3: i was stalking to try and find liam's new girlfriend and i swear i saw him comment here

y/ninsta: who is liam, i don't know anyone called liam

liamlawson posted a story

written: as someone who loves somebody that has a chronic illness i wanted to highlight chronic illness visibility day. people living with these conditions are warriors and we as a society need to treat them as such, please just be empathetic to the strong people in your life that suffer every single day.

liamlawson

liked by y/ninsta, lilymhe, alexalbon and 728,371 others

tagged: y/ninsta

liamlawson: obsessed with you

view all 34,283 comments

y/ninsta: i am so in love with you

liamlawson: i love you more pretty girl

user4: not liam hard launching on a random wednesday

user5: i just stalked her and she has the same medical condition as me, i feel so seen

user6: she seems so down to earth and normal, i love her already

alexalbon: so does this mean i can meet marshmallow this season

liamlawson: yes, yes it does

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[arkhammaid]

TEXT FILES : #APHRODISIACS alpha in a beta world

fandom. genshin impact

pairing. wriothesley x gn!reader

content warnings. nsfw, MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, alpha!wrio, omega!reader, ruts, knotting, talk about breeding, wrio going feral, written in lowercase

word count. 0.6k

notes. hehe :D

kinktober masterlist.

alpha!wriothesley, tortured by the knowledge of him being the only alpha in this world. surrounded by betas, ordinary and normal people, he’s the only one with his designation. even the others, who are not completely normal and have some animalistic traits, aren’t cursed like he is. 

alpha!wriothesley, spending his ruts locked away, suffering through pains and shaking attacks, all because there is no omega near. not a single one and it has his alpha howling in misery. but he can’t change a single thing, he never could. 

alpha!wriothesley, going crazy the moment he smells you the first time. he stumbles over his own feet, shaken to the core to feel the presence of an omega, when he’s in a world full of betas. his nostrils flare— at some point he’s realizing he’s actually panting, trying to get in your scent. 

alpha!wriothesley, having nothing else in mind but you— his omega, his mate, simply his. it doesn’t help that you’re already crushing on him, always blushing when he’s near you. he approaches you, without any shame, asking you out, anything to be closer to you. 

alpha!wriothesley, who thinks he’s dying, when he spends his next rut alone. he doesn’t want to scare you, but he wishes you would be here, with him, in a nest you built yourself and invite him in. he’s howling and ripping his whole den apart, just because he locked himself in. 

alpha!wriothesley, melting against your touch, when you visit him after the torturing days. you coo over him, worried about the self inflicted injuries. his inner alpha is close to purring, his den slowly losing that sour, aggressive scent of his, replaced by your own. it ends up with him sagging against you, head tucked between your neck and shoulders, while he noses your skin, where your scent is the strongest.

alpha!wriothesley, confessing his sin, being an alpha in a beta world, and confessing who you are to him, his omega. he’s ashamed of his own thoughts about you, and his greed for thinking you would agree to his insane request. 

alpha!wriothesley, going feral when you only bare your neck in answer, body loose and trusting. he tries to hold back, he really does, but not even minutes later you’re naked, beneath him and your legs spread. he marks you up, claiming you as his.

alpha!wriothesley, suddenly going into a rut again, his mind filled with the need to fill you up, to breed you, to knot you. he’s frantic, face flushed and heavily panting— but he just can’t help himself. not when you’re so eager, taking him without any complaints and your eyes going oh so wide when he knots you for the first time. 

alpha!wriothesley, showering you with praise, for taking him so well, his knot and seed, keeping it all in— he blabbers about pups, and your pupils widen, just the thought of it making your eyes roll back. he immediately notices it, of course he does, even more words of breeding you, keeping you full and round with his pups stumble out of his mouth.

alpha!wriothesley, scenting and marking you after you fall asleep in his arms. fucking you stupid, knotting you— all this hasn’t been enough. you’re his and he will show it the whole world. you’ll walk around with his marks, just seeing you like this, face still flushed, naked body against his, fills his inner alpha with pride for finally finding his omega.

ARKHAM MAID 2023

[a-araiguma-a]

He loved only her

No one in particular, just an elf from the universe of J. R. R. Tolkien. Elf x f!reader

In the ancient forests of Middle-earth, where tall trees concealed the sky, there lived an elf. His people were as eternal as the forest itself, and their hearts were rarely clouded by mortal emotions. But one day, he met a woman—a simple, human, mortal woman. There was something about her that made his heart beat faster: her beauty, which could neither be captured by the finest poets nor sung by the greatest musicians, her mind, so unlike that of other humans, filled with thoughts, ideas, and philosophy, or her eyes, in which one could drown if they gazed too long. It was something he could not understand, but this only made his love grow deeper.

"Cormamin lindua ele lle"—he always wanted to tell her that his heart sang at the sight of her, but it was not the right time, not yet. From the moment of their first meeting, he sought her out and waited for her in this forest every day when the sun's rays gently touched the ground, filtering through the thick foliage.

She told him about her world, about the brief lives of humans, about how they lived and died, dreaming and suffering.

"Lle naa vanima,"—he blurted out one day, not even realizing when he had said it: "You are beautiful." "What did you say?"—fortunately, she didn't understand his words, and that saddened him. It was not enough for him to meet her in the evenings; he longed to extend their conversations, to stretch them out for an hour, two, or forever. He listened to her stories, captivated not by the words themselves but by how her voice filled the emptiness in his soul. Without her, he would never have known the need to fill it.

"Tua amin!"—But did he need help? Did he need to be saved from her? Honestly, no, he was ready to drown in her eyes, ready to die if only to meet her once more. He was ready for anything...

But the Elf did not know how to tell her about his feelings. He understood that the time she gave him was limited, and each moment with her was precious. But how could he explain this? How could he tell her that his heart, which had always been eternal and free, now belonged to her? "The more you love someone," he thought, "the harder it is to tell them." "Nin lithiach, Meleth nín"—she truly enchanted him every time he saw her, even in his thoughts. His beloved. "Guren mil gaim lín"—his heart was in her hands—"Tessa sina ten’ amin"—he asked her to keep it, but in truth, she was free to do with it as she wished, as long as it was her.

And she accepted him. She had loved him too, ever since then, but she understood that it would be difficult for him; her life was short, and what would happen afterward, when she left him? She was ready to weep over such a truth. "Amin uuma malia, Arwen en amin"—it didn't concern him. Being with her and having her even for a moment was already enough. The chance to call her his—that was his happiness. His Lady, who ruled his heart and mind.

As the years passed, she began to talk more often about parting, though it pained the elf to hear it, he couldn't disagree. "When the day comes that we part," she said quietly, "if my last words aren't 'Amin mela lle,' you'll know it's because I didn't have time." In those moments, he remained silent, lost in thought, unable to find the words to express that his love knew no bounds of time. "Meleth e-guilen, my love is selfish. I can't breathe without you,"—she was the love of his life. How could she speak of them parting, not seeing her, not inhaling her scent in the mornings, no more afternoon conversations about books, about how Ellen had messed up her work again, no more seeing her smile, or those gentle eyes full of love for him... "Aa’ lasser en he coia orn n' omenta gurtha!"—Let the leaves of her tree of life never wither, he prayed. Just a little longer, he wasn't ready yet, but how could he stretch this time?

But when the fog enveloped the forest, and the cold wind brought with it a premonition of farewell, the elf finally spoke what was in his heart. He took her hand and said: "I was destined to live a thousand years, and I belong only to you for all those years. If we were to live a thousand lives, I would want you to be mine in every one of them." She looked at him, and a tear glistened in her eye. She knew their time was running out, but these were the words she believed in more than anything in the world.

For the elf's love was as eternal as the forest itself, and he continued to love, despite their parting, carrying his feelings for her through the years and ages of his life.

"Cormamin niuve tenna’ ta elea lle au’"—My heart will wait until it sees you again. "Le me ithon anuir"—I will love you forever. "Quel kaima"—Rest well.

[tales-of-wocdes]

Tales of Wocdes: The Silver Protector

A WIP Twine game! The demo is now available (demo updated 27.10.2024, ~103 500 words with code inside text and different branches):

Tales of Wocdes: The Silver Protector is a high fantasy interactive fiction made in Twine. During the story, your protagonist will change from a helpless child to a Silver Protector, an elite warrior and protector. In time, you may wield powerful magic, or be a master of the blade.  

The game is in early development. All content is subject to change.

There is also now a kofi page.

Premise

Wocdes is a world full of magic, monsters, and secrets. No beings in this world embody all three better than the Ancients,  godlike in power and unbeatable in battle. Incredibly wise and compassionate. Incredibly terrible and cruel. Immortal and glorious. Petty and vengeful. Or so the stories go. 

Not that you know the stories. Why would you? You are a child kidnapped for unknown purposes.  You barely know anything about yourself. Your life is one of pain and suffering at the hands of people you do not know. 

In a moment of desperation, a plea leaves your lips. Or perhaps it is only in your mind. Unexpectedly something hears you and will never ignore a broken child alone in the dark asking for help. You are saved but you are permanently scarred by your experiences. Given into the care of the newly created Orphanage of Firgrat, here is where your journey truly begins. How will you cope with your past and current reality?  Can you survive the cruel world of Wocdes, the weight of your trauma? Can you help others survive?  Can you grow up, make friends, learn to love, and become a real person again?

What to look forward to

In this game, you will (eventually) be able to:

Customize your character, from their appearance and gender (male, female, non-binary) to their abilities and personality.

Admittedly, your characters emotional development has taken a bit of a hit due to recent events, leaving them a bit confused in general about... everything. 

You can add elements of fantasy races to your character's appearance, such as a tail, wings, pointy ears and many more.

Discover why you were kidnapped, eventually.

Protect those you feel deserve it, become stronger for yourself or to protect others.

Grow up alongside other orphans and kids from the city, journey through childhood at the orphanage and the surrounding city, to adulthood with responsibilities. 

Develop your relationships with your fellow orphans and other companions, maybe even get into a romance. 

Speaking of romance, the author aims to offer an option to be completely and utterly dense about romance, like completely oblivious to the degree people worry about you. Or maybe you will be a smoother operator.

Go on adventures and missions, both innocent and not, in an original fantasy world full of magic, wonder and cruelty.

Characters

Primary

The twins Atru (m) and Azha (f): The original inhabitants of the orphanage and the only children already there when you arrive. Both twins have short blond hair and green eyes. Atru is a seemingly silent emotionless boy who clings to his sister Azha. Azha is a little girl shaped ray of sunshine and well-meaning mischief. And chatter!

More characters will be filled out later.

Secondary

Havard (m): The head custodian of the Orphanage. A father figure to all the children. His duty is to guide the children, and it is a duty he takes very seriously.

Lexia (f): The Silver Protector in charge of you. Young, excitable and strong. One of the first to be chosen for the new elite order called the Silver Protectors.

Alessa (f): The custodian in charge of the twins. A sweet young somewhat shy woman who the twins adore, both in their own ways. 

Sandor (m): The Silver Protector in charge of the twins. A good-natured and somewhat shy young man often trailing after the twins with a fond look. 

The Ancients

RAFO (Read And Find Out). You might meet some. 

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction! Any potential resemblance of appearances, names, or personalities of characters with people in real life, living or dead, is coincidental.

This story is meant for adults. The game contains depictions of violence, blood, gore, sexually suggestive content, black humor, explicit language etc. A more complete list can be found in game. Like everything else, this list is subject to change. 

The game contains dealing with traumatic events. The author is not a qualified medical professional, and the in game responses to trauma are not in any way encouraged.  If you are uncomfortable with what you are reading, please refrain from continuing until you feel better. Or drop the story entirely. None of this is worth your health.

[tossawary]

In "The Princess Bride", Westley is (forgive this phrasing, I mean it relatively fondly) "a petty bitch of a man", but I can kind of see where he's coming from giving Buttercup a hard time at the beginning. It's a very human thing to have a temper.

He went off to seek his fortune and was attacked by pirates, which I assume was a bloody and unpleasant experience. He had to beg for his life and spent a long time as their captive, threatened with death every single day, even if it later turned into a less serious morbid joke. Life on the crew of the most famous pirate in the world was presumably pretty harsh at times and he worked his ass off training himself up to be worth feeding and keeping alive, then to be able to hold his own in this new life. Piracy is hardly a very safe profession.

For all we know, Westley did attempt to send letters home, but he probably had to work hard to scrounge up the money for it and find someone semi-legitimate willing to carry it, and this is hardly an era of reliable mail. He probably had to just hope that Buttercup 1) wouldn't hear the news of his first ship's destruction and/or 2) would trust in his love for her enough to know that he was alive and fighting to come back.

When Westley finally becomes the Dread Pirate Roberts, he's still stuck with the former Dread Pirate Roberts for a little while, and then he has a pirate crew who have expectations of him. He cannot sail the damn ship himself. It probably took a lot of work, threats and persuasion and the slow building of trust, in order to get a ship full of men to eventually take him back to Florin. Like, would he even have told them about Buttercup? (It would be funny if there's a crew of pirates out there cheering Westley on in True Love.) Would he have had to promise them some reward?

He also went out in the world to make his fortune and he already knows that he's dreadfully late, so maybe his position is, "Okay, I will build up trust with my crew by building up our fortunes, WHILE slowly but surely moving back across the world in the direction of Florin so that I can see the love of my life again. This hellish experience traveling all over the damn world will all have been worth it for her."

It's possible that Westley was mostly having silly pirate adventures worthy of a comedic operetta, but based on the tragedies of Inigo and Fezzik's own backstories, this world is not actually that nice. Westley is being flippant and lighthearted when he later summarizes things for Buttercup, but he does seem to be one to make light of / ignore his personal suffering. I do think that he did probably make some friendships through this hardship and had some good experiences along the way, especially near the end, but I also think that the beginning of his journey must have been really shit.

So, Westley fights hard to get back home, then lands somewhere in Florin and is on his way back to the farm, but then finds out from some random villagers (or Buttercup's parents) that his shitty former prince is marrying an incomparably beautiful milkmaid named Buttercup. Like...? The love of his life didn't wait for him (she thought he was dead and is also being forced into this, so that Humperdink can murder her to start a war, Buttercup did nothing wrong) and traded up for some SHITHEAD PRINCE??? That has to HURT. (And Westley does not like admitting to feeling pain!)

Even if he loves mischief and drama, Westley is being an unnecessarily huge jerk when he kidnaps Buttercup away from her kidnapping, but also yeah, I see how his temper might be running hot. He's struggling with the fact that his True Love might have moved on after he's probably been using her memory as a thin rope of sanity for years.

[scribblestatic]

So, like, if you've read SVSSS far enough, you know about the Bingmei vs Bingge part. And there's all sorts of stories with Bingge (basically a PIDW Binghe, not SVSSS Binghe) finding his own shizun in various ways.

Well, what about if he manages to summon a Shen Yuan, but his soul is in Shen Jiu's body? Which, like, wouldn't really be a problem, except he's already been torturing Shen Jiu for a good while now and he's down an eye and all of his limbs are mostly stubs at this point. Thankfully he still has his tongue and penis, which, after so often demanding Shen Jiu be castrated, he's pretty jazzed that didn't happen.

Shen Yuan, being the absolute freak he is, probably wouldn't mind too much. After all, he'd read this part of the story and cheered it on. Just cause he's now experiencing it himself, doesn't mean the revenge was any less cathartic.

Though, well, the dreams he has about what Shen Jiu went through does dampen his enjoyment of his suffering (so many lives lost that he can do nothing about, so much torment that just cycled on because no one thought to seek help, because the world was built so firmly on cruelty)...

And perhaps he'd woken up sobbing at times, crying his apologies to Binghe as though he was the one who had done all those terrible things to him, but he didn't, but those dreams were so vivid and felt so real

The girls at the Warm Red Pavilion, were they okay? Shen Jiu never had sex with them, only kept company to avoid the boys when he couldn't sleep and trained them in the four arts and gathered information from them, gods, he'd misunderstood Shen Jiu and thought him a remorseless villain and enemy to women

Liu Qingge, fuck--

At least now he can help Binghe actually enjoy his life and perhaps stop the cycle of abuse from continuing. Besides, cool motive, Shen Jiu, still child torment. And though the results were quite drastic, it was the dog-eat-dog world of xianxia China, and life was generally unfair. No reason to make Binghe's life needlessly unfair on top of everything.

But yeah! Now that he's in Shen Jiu's body, he and Luo Binghe get to talk, and Binghe, for the first time in his life, experiences regret for his actions, because now his lovely new kind shizun can't card his fingers through his hair or twist little braids into it. Moreover, Shen Yuan somewhat mourns over the fact Binghe's hair is straightened--he loved reading about his bouncy curls.

So now, imagining that, after time, Shen Yuan becomes a more prominent figure in the empire, especially post-marriage. He has a lovely eyepatch and wears soft red, black, and gold clothes, heavy on the red and gold. This nearly limbless man helps Luo Binghe do his taxes and works out various tips on using beasts to the benefit of the empire and remembering small notes about other races that allows the Demon Emperor to be both magnanimous and fierce in whomever's eyes he meets.

Others can't decide if Shen Qingqiu's mind was utterly broken, if he was cursed to act against his own will, or if he was possessed by some strange spirit. Regardless, the realms have never been in such peace before now.

Moreover, Luo Binghe has started changing.

While he can never regain the height lost to a childhood full of suffering and a lack of nutrients, he can change in other ways. He actually eats healthier because Shen Yuan insists on having him eat as well. He steadily stops straightening his hair, letting his curls return until they're like clouds. His muscles grow in firmer and his chest broadens.

Also, as he and his kind shizun speak further, even though he explores the worst parts of himself and uncovers those dirty, evil deeds and the ways they truly hurt him, Xin Mo doesn't get the chance to latch onto them anymore. As painful as discussing those things are...releasing them is exceptionally freeing. So, a sense of inner strength and ease he never had before starts to settle in his body, and his qi, usually constantly battling, stabilizes more than before, his heart demons no longer so adamant or strong.

As a side-effect of both parts, he was already handsome, but now, he's even more so. A wise, secure man no longer so strongly gripped by hatred, lust, or greed. Someone unforgivable to many, but becoming okay with forgiving himself.

Indeed, what a man!

Which is kinda a shame for Luo Binghe's many wives, because he's been heavily trimming down on his harem. Political marriages are substituted for other exchanges, fervent troublemakers are sent back to their homes (the ones who dared to attack his A'Yuan are never heard from again, strangely), and wives who simply ask for divorce are granted them, receiving a hefty gift for at least being loyal whilst married.

So, previously, a harem once numbering into the hundreds falls to the tens, and the remaining ones are either ambivalent or antsy.

Then, as though to answer everyone's burgeoning questions, he names Shen Yuan his empress during a meeting and proclaims that they will make preparations for his crowning ceremony.

I feel like that'd really set off what remained of Cian Qiong Mountain Sect.

Hmm... I think I'll talk more about this later.

---

Part 1: here Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 11+: links on Part 10

AO3

[marvelstoriesepic]

Angstober (day 17)

Pairing: Endgame!Bucky x Reader

Prompt: “Shhh…”

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: allusions to deep depression; very slight mention of suicidal thoughts; mentions of an eating disorder (neglecting food due to mental health problems); sad!Reader; sad and desperate!Bucky

Author's note: I'm so late, so sorry!! Actually planned on ending this way more angsty but I just couldn’t. Hope you still like it!

Angstober Masterlist

Not that you’re counting, but it has been 14 nights now. Two weeks. Nearly 340 hours since Bucky returned. He came back, along with everyone else who had vanished for five long years. But nothing else seemed nearly as significant as the feeling of seeing him again - the man you loved before the blip, during the blip, and thereafter.

Obviously, this was supposed to be a moment of pure, unadulterated joy. And it was for a moment. But you never felt the weight fall off you, that great release where all your problems just go away and nothing is left but love, relief, lightness - the kind of peace you can finally sink into.

But peace is far from what you feel.

You carry something in your gut; a stone lodged deep, heavy, and smooth to the touch but sharp on impact, that pushes your insides down and twists the knots in your belly into nausea. It’s guilt. So thick and visceral, it hurts, your body trying to reject it, to shake it, but you can’t breathe it away.

Because it’s also the 14th night of you leaving the warm and cozy embrace of two arms - one flesh, one metal - and the feeling of a chest pressed against your body just to sit out on the balcony, the exact same you spent ceaseless and lonely nights on when the world had emptied itself of Bucky Barnes.

Back when this place was only yours for the better part of the blip. With an old armchair placed to overlook the stars and form changing moon blinking at you from the blackness overhead. As if each of those tiny bright dots stood for something specific.

Bucky is asleep inside the bedroom, you’re supposed to be in right now. Wrapped safely in his arms, surrounded by the comfort of having him back. But the truth is, this comfort you should feel suffocates you.

You’re frozen. Stuck between two worlds. The one where you lost him, where you had to endure five long years without him, and the one where he returned as though no time had passed at all.

Five years living without him just for him to return to earth within the blink of an eye as if it was nothing. As if the time spent alone wasn’t agony in the worst sense of the word. As if your suffering didn’t even happen and everything just went back to normal in seconds.

You don’t know how to react. You don’t know how to be normal again. How can you just slip back into a love that feels like it was frozen in time for him but battered and painful for you?

It hasn’t been easy for anyone, you’re aware of that. Disappearing or not. Suddenly re-entering a world that had moved on without you, a world you never knew you even left, is a scary thought. But, honestly, it’s so much worse for Bucky. Your stomach, again, churns in pain.

Bucky has already lost so much of his life, trapped in decades he was never meant to live, a ghost haunting the wrong era. The world keeps slipping through his fingers, time moving around him while he’s frozen in place. Literally even. And now there goes another five years.

But you just can’t turn your head off. And you hate yourself for it.

The truth is, you’re not the same person you were when you met Bucky, started dating him - the one he fell in love with. A bright spirit, an effervescent soul, full of light, energy, softness, with a laugh that was infectious. That version of you is gone, taken by the same breeze that took Bucky years ago. What’s left was a hollow shell, lost in the grief of your greatest love story.

Time wore you down, erode pieces of you that you didn’t even realize were fading away until there was hardly anything left. Just bare bones of who you once were - a thin foundation, fragile, with crumbs already falling to your darkest depths, ready to be swept away for good.

How can you possibly go back to the person Bucky expects you to be? How can you pretend to be the version of yourself he fell in love with when it doesn’t exist anymore? When what’s left of her is irredeemable, too far gone to be resurrected?

You’re certain you’ll only end up disappointing him. If you haven’t already.

Fourteen nights you’ve been out here, on this balcony, sitting in that chair, wrapped in the dark, keeping yourself apart from him when you know you should be beside him. When all you ever wanted was to be beside him again.

Thirteen of those nights, Bucky has noticed your absence. The first night he found you out here, sitting in silence, you nearly snapped at him, frustration and confusion at the way you feel bubbling up so fiercely, you didn’t know how to contain it.

You told him to leave you alone. Insisted on it for so long until he finally, reluctantly relented, slowly retreating back inside with a tremble in his breath and clenched fingers. You knew he would respect your request. You also found out that he didn’t sleep a wink that night, since you didn’t come back to bed, wearing circles under his eyes that matched yours as he made you some breakfast in the morning you barely ended up stomaching.

Since then, you haven’t asked him to leave. Though you don’t really engage him in conversation either, only letting him linger. His presence is gentle, never pressing, always so patient, but it doesn’t make it easier. If only, it worsens the guilt, its fingers tightening around your chest, digging into your skin painfully. You don’t know how to let him back in, not when you’re still so tangled up in the person you’ve become - someone so worn-down, you don’t recognize yourself anymore, afraid to be confronted with the harrowing reality by looking in a mirror.

And every night, you wonder, silently asking the night sky, how much longer it’ll be before he realizes that the person he loves is someone he lost.

You’re waiting. Waiting for him to notice that this new version of you isn’t enough.

Every time, Bucky comes out to you, bringing you something - blankets, jackets, his hoodies, a cup of tea still steaming in his hands, or thick socks to warm your feet. He gets you all the things you never thought to grab in your rush to escape to the balcony, to get lost in the night air that bites into your skin but usually feels oddly comforting in its coldness. The chill always manages to give you a small sting of reality.

You never make the first move to wrap the blankets around yourself or pull any of the clothing items on, so Bucky usually does it for you. And he’s nothing but kind. Patient and soft in ways that almost hurt to witness. It’s in his eyes, in the way he watches you, never pushing too hard, never demanding more than you can give.

But his worry is etched into every corner of him like he is carrying it in his very bones. It’s heavy on his brows, weighing them down in a furrow that never seems to ease, lips pressed into a slight frown that tugs at the corners even when he tries to soothe it out.

It’s in the way his hands twitch, as if he’s fighting the urge to reach out and pull you close, but stops himself because he’s unsure if you want him to. He’s constantly walking that fine line, balancing between the space you seem to want and the need to be there, to comfort you, troubled with his own helplessness.

It’s in every considerate gesture, every thoughtful thing he does to make sure you’re okay, or at least giving you a sense of solace.

And yet, you can’t bring yourself to really talk to him. To explain what’s going on in your mind. To voice the fear that now lives there and which places it travels and where it settles down, lodging itself deep into your conscience, roots spreading and festering.

There’s no way to explain what drives you out here night after night, sitting in the darkness while your returned love waits for you inside.

It’s not that you don’t want to. God, you want to more than anything. But the words just won’t come, not making it past the lump in your throat. You’re trapped in a loop of thoughts; confusion, and guilt guiding them to twirl in your head like an indecipherable storm.

How do you even begin to explain that the person he’s so worried about isn’t really there anymore; that you’re afraid you’ve changed too much; that you’re not sure how to go back to the way things were, or if you even can? So while you remain silent, your mind races and your heart aches with the weight of everything you can’t say.

There are so many ghosts in his life and you don’t want to count yourself as another. But you don’t have it in you to do something about it.

As expected, the door to the balcony opens, quietly, slowly. It gets shorter, you notice. The time it takes him to realize you’re gone. As if he instinctively wakes up the second you leave his embrace. As if he barely has to stir to know you’re missing, to feel the cold, empty space where your warmth should be.

You wish he had given you just a little more time. Woke up just a little later. Nausea pools in your gut.

“Sweetheart.”

You pick up his whisper. You intended to ignore it, just as you had intended to ignore the quiet shuffle of his steps, the way he appeared in your peripherals like he always does. But the way his voice reflects so much of a fragility you can’t and don’t want to describe, your head lifts almost on autopilot, responding to him before your mind can even catch up.

He’s crouching down to your level in front of the chair you’re perched on, carefully lowering himself to your eye level. You hadn’t even acknowledged the bowl of pasta he brought until he set it down on the small table next to you, food you hadn’t even glanced at all day. As well as the blanket draped over his forearm he now deliberately wraps you up in. His hands linger on your arms longer than needed until he almost reluctantly pulls away.

He doesn’t take his eyes off you. Not for a second. Gaze so intense and solid, it undoes you. They’re filled with everything you try to run from, everything you try to bury deep inside yourself, everything you try to hide from.

You avert your eyes at the new wave of pain that tears right through your chest, intended to knock you off that chair, perhaps even off that balcony. Your silence is wearing on him and you know. You know that his brows are creased in worry, that his hands are trembling as they grab onto his knees to prevent himself from reaching out to you because he thinks that’s not what you want. That his touch is unwanted. His lips are pressed together as if holding back the flood of words he’s too afraid to say out loud.

Still, you don’t open your mouth. You don’t move closer to him to feel some of his warmth. You don’t look at him. All you do is let him down, night after night, as he watches you drift further away.

From yourself.

From him.

“Please eat something, love.”

His pleading voice again reaches you with the force of a knife, thrown straight to your heart, tearing through the blanket, your thin clothes, your skin, to embed itself into the organ that once held something so precious. A love so fierce, not only for the man in front of you but for the woman he fell for. For the woman that’s now lost in a body filled with coldness.

“Not hungry.” The words fall flat from your lips, monotone, your voice as hollow as you feel inside. There’s no weight behind them, no energy. They’re the same words you’ve been giving him all day, all week - really, for two weeks straight.

Actually, you haven’t been hungry in what feels like forever. The idea of eating, of caring for your body, feels so distant, so unimportant, perhaps even ludicrous, that you’ve stopped thinking about it entirely. Your stomach knots itself in protest but the thought of offering sustenance to your weary body pales in significance amidst whatever storm is brewing inside your mind.

Bucky never relents. Never gives up. Never stops trying.

But it’s heavy on him.

The pained sigh that ripples through his body, drags his shoulders down, his entire frame. His desperation is so evident, it’s standing out like a light that wants the attention of the darkness around you. His pain almost echoes like a sound, ringing in your ears.

He bows his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.

Another stab. Another twist of the knife, that never really leaves your body anymore. It’s always sharp. Always intense. Always piercing. Because it never ceases to hurt when Bucky is in pain.

And he’s in pain because of you.

It’s always because of you.

His despair now is an extension of the love that triumphed against odds, yet now feels so misplaced, so undeserving in the wreckage that was left behind.

Every line of his body screams misery and it’s so unlike Bucky to carry it so openly. He’s not able to stop his hands from shaking, even though he’s clenching them into fists that leave his skin white. He’s not able to ease the tension in his jaw, the way his breath catches as though he’s holding back more words, more pleas, more desperation.

You know it’s your fault. You know this is a love he still holds for a person that doesn’t deserve it anymore. He holds on so tight. So fierce. And that’s what hurts the most.

A new sensation wells up, one you had consciously buried for the past 14 nights. One you hadn’t let yourself feel every time you got lost out here. It grips your throat, wraps itself around it, and squeezes, cutting off the flow of air. It’s choking you, as if in triumph, confronting the tidal surges of emotion you’ve been holding back for so long. It stings behind your eyes, making them swell and burn as tears form faster than you can stop them.

The sob that forms in your belly takes shape in a revolting way and you can’t grasp it properly.

So, when it finally escapes, it’s heart-wrenching. The sound rips from your chest violently and guttural, tearing through your lips before you can do anything to keep it inside. Your hand flies to your mouth, desperate to stifle it, but it’s useless.

Bucky’s head snaps up with so much vigor, and he stumbles in his rush to reach you, arms shooting up, eyes wide with alarm. His hands move toward you without hesitation, disregarding the fragile boundaries you had set, the cautious distance he believed you’d wanted.

You’re shaking, shoulders trembling with the power of the cries that rack through your body and he pulls you against him.

He cradles your head against his chest, his other arm pulling you closer, closer, closer. His grip is so full of anguish, holding onto you like his very life depends on it, his warmth fighting against the chill that’s been living inside you for such a long time.

Your sobs come harder, sounds muffled by the fabric of his hoodie. Bucky tries to hold you tighter, letting you crumble against him.

Minutes stretch out and your cries don’t let up. Each breath you take is painful, rough, and with every shudder that convulses your body, Bucky grasps you firmer.

“Shhh… it’s okay, baby, I got you.” His voice sounds so soft but frail, hoarse with the effort of keeping himself composed. He keeps whispering, though his words tremble on his lips as if he’s battling the same ache that’s threatening to break him apart all the same. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you can feel his breath against your skin, shaky and uneven, trying so hard to be the anchor you need.

“Shhh…” he breathes again, but there are tears in his tone. He’s holding on so solidly, gripping you as if letting go would mean losing you entirely.

“I’m sorry,” you cry, the words tumbling out over and over because it’s all your scrambled mind manages. It’s the only thing that feels true in the mess of your awareness. The silence, the distance, the weight you’ve placed on him, on his shoulders, which should be free from burden after the hell he’s been through. He’s only just come back from five years of being lost to the world, and now you’re drowning him in your own grief. And that makes your tears come without control, the guilt crushing.

“I’m so sorry,” you sob again, the only thing you can offer. An apology isn’t enough but it’s all you have. Because you don’t know if you’re supposed to hold onto the hope that maybe, one day, he’ll forgive you for being too much, for not being who he needs anymore.

Bucky shakes his head against yours, strong, fast; his breath broken. “No,” he breathes, rough and thick. “No, baby, don’t apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to drown out his voice. He’s too nice. Too sweet. Too forgiving. Too patient. Too Bucky.

Shaking your head, you grip onto him. “You should leave me.” It’s louder than anything you’ve said the whole night. It’s more resolute. It sounds more like you, but it still doesn’t seem to come from you. Because never in seven years did you believe those words would ever make it past your lips. Would ever even be formed in your mind.

Bucky pulls back. Not harshly, but urgently, in a panic, determined. His hands cradle your face and he only moves his head away a little to get a better look at you. His eyes, wet and glassy, lock onto yours, filled with pain so stabbing it matches your own. But there is a resolution in his eyes, a firmness in the small glimmer of blue.

He shakes his head as if something is breaking in him.

“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that,” he whispers, his thumb brushing away the tears on your cheeks that keep rolling down even as his own spill over. His touch is so gentle, so tender, so loving and you feel the guilt that settled deep inside you in a war with the longing you had felt for so long. The longing to feel his touch in a way that always knocked the breath straight out of your lungs. The longing to have his eyes sear right through you as if you’re the only thing in the world that holds worth.

“This isn’t your fault,” he continues. “None of this is your fault, Y/n! Alright? Nothing you could do would make me leave you. Hear me when I say this, my love. Hear me when I say that I'm here. And I'll stay.”

A sad, wobbly smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “There’s no getting rid of me, sweetheart. Nothing you could do would ever scare me away.”

Something cracks open inside you. His words, his touch, his gaze, everything is so full of love. And even if it’s just a little, the compressing weight of guilt loosens. It will take many more nights for it to completely leave you but Bucky will walk this road with you. You’re sure; because in his eyes, the way he holds you against him, you finally see that he’s not asking for the person you used to be. He’s asking for you, as you are, as you’ve become, broken pieces and all.

He’s still loving you with a depth your guilt could never reach.

[xo-cod]

dad simon fluff because i'm sad. rushed and ooc ‼️

might be confusing to read because i didn't name the baby, i tried 🥲

it was early morning, too early for his liking as simon yawned before he spread the butter across the toast delicately. slicing up some fruits alongside it. it had been seven whole months since you both welcomed your pride and joy, seven whole months of a world he didn't think was possible to ever receive in this life. how he adored you and how he cherished his baby so deeply to his heart, in some ways it makes up for all the pain he suffered in his past to be able to have his two greatest gifts beside him every day.

he finished plating up, walking back to the living room and there his infant stood, big brown eyes gazing at the tv with delight. her eyes were one of the first thing he noticed when she had been born, they were one of the features that she had taken identically like his. and they looked absolutely gorgeous on her.

he never thought his life would turn out this way, spending the majority of his youth and his adulthood in the taskforce. at some point he grew to accept that the life price had offered him was the only one he would ever receive, he got used to the idea that perhaps love wasn't something everyone got to experience in this world. but then you came along and you gave him the greatest gift he could've ever possibly recieved, turning his world on its axis for the better.

a foreign feeling to simon whose life had been dominated nothing but by violence and loss.

"c'mere munchkin, breakfast" the soldier in him calling it out like a command only his voice was gentle, fatherly, as he picked her up securely before delicately placing her in her high chair.

and much like his features, his baby seemed to take his attitude too.

she huffed and squirmed on the chair, her tiny face crumpled in a frown having been taken away from her dear cartoons and made to eat.

"is this little girl trying to be stubborn, eh?" simon narrowed his eyes but his face showed pure amusement, his face leaning down to kiss her temple softly. she immediately relaxed and babbled softly while he smiled, sitting on the chair next to her as he fed her the food.

simon was still learning everyday what it meant to be a father, he promised himself he'd never turn out to be the way his own dad was. he vowed never to do that to you or his child. never to become the way his father had been.

but he had barely finished giving her the breakfast before she gasped excitedly at the cartoon once more, baby babbles falling from her lips. he watched, resisting the urge to coo and chuckle at her state. and then he watched as she mimicked the tv, pretending to be dinosaur while she blew raspberries at him.

it had been her new thing now and simon felt pure joy tugging at his heart, wishing forever she'd stay this way so he could protect her from everything. how innocent and carefree she was here in this moment, how time was cruel because he could already feel it escape and slip through his fingers. pretty soon she'd be turning a year old and it felt like just yesterday he was bringing her and you back home from the hospital

"now what do little dinosaurs say?" simon entertained her playfully, helping her down while she stomped around in her onesie looking at him with pure mischief.

"you have to roar at me for it to work, yeah?" he playfully growled back as he nuzzled his face up against hers and he started to gently tickle her on her side. she collapsed into shrieks of laughter, only deepening the smile on his lips as he laughed along with her. he watched her small arms flail about, trying to make her voice sound like the effects on tv but failing miserably

and how his heart ached in his chest as a result from it. he hoped she would never lose this spark, this streak of mischief, being so full of life and love. she was already growing much too fast for his liking but he was so excited for who she'd be, she was his mini after all

he heard your soft gasp and then a gentle laugh, turning back to look at you with a look of fondness at your arrival. you'd never looked better to him, half asleep and still as beautiful as the day he had the pleasure of looking upon you for the first time

"did you hear that, lovie?" simon grinned, looking back at you before he kissed his baby's small cheek as he set her down on the floor once more. he gently faced her towards you, helping her walk across while you made your way to the couch

"show mama how you roar like a scary little dinosaur" simon encouraged with a playful tone, poking her side softly. you followed his gaze and looked down at the baby who was roaring just as she had been before she hiccuped and stumbled on the floor. her soft grumbles fell from her lips which prompted the both of you to chuckle gently at your baby. she looked close to having a tantrum but simon was well acquainted with all her little moods, distracting her quickly

"oh no, my poor little dinosaur. whatever will it do now?" he feigned sadness which caused the infant to burst into giggles, almost tripping over towards his big arms as he caught her and held her close to his chest. his own gentle laughter mixing in with hers and you could only watch with a tenderness in your heart, always hoping deep down in your heart your little family would always remain this happy.