#a kindness I’m bestowing myself

[sleepymarimo]

(𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑)𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄

zoro x fem!afab!reader // fluff, sfw, reader is preggo, overprotective zoro my beloved!!

it’d been around three days since the sunny had docked at some spring island, with the log pose indicating that another week was needed before departure.

truthfully, it was nice to be on land for a bit. you’d forgotten what it’d felt like to walk on solid ground, plus this island boasted a few cozy towns and a large city to explore.

nami had bestowed you with an extra large allowance to accommodate for the newest addition of the crew… who was currently kicking about in your stomach, due soon.

you appreciated the gesture, putting the money to good use, a small bag already in your hands.

ever since you’d stepped foot off the ship, you’d looked forward to some time alone, a moment of independence, but it’s hard to do so with a beast following you at all times.

the town you were currently in was only so large, the residents familiarizing themselves with the infamous pirate crew who’d docked not too long ago.

as you walk toward some shops, you pick up on the hushed whispers.

“he’s following her around like a puppy!” one says, an older woman smiling to her companion.

you pass by a cafe, some patrons sipping on their teas and caffeinated brews. “he hasn’t left her alone since they docked here…” comes another, the words almost lost amid the morning conversations.

and you know exactly what they mean.

your face burns hotter and hotter as you trek along with your precious cargo, the sound of your footsteps accompanied by the familiar clink of earrings and scabbards rubbing against each other.

when you stop, so does he.

“can’t I take a walk in peace?” you complain, chuffing as you turn around and face the swordsman, who narrows his good eye at you.

he rests his hand on one of three hilts, unbothered. “it is peaceful. I’m quiet, aren’t I?”

you click your tongue, shake your head and keep walking. he follows.

zoro’s protective instincts were something you grew fond of- you still are fond of them- but at times like this, they were downright overbearing. even on this beautiful island, where not one speck of trouble has made itself known, he doesn’t relent.

“you know what I mean,” you accuse, stubborn, your eyes meeting his for a moment before glancing off toward a small boutique. “it’s not like I’m gonna run off on you.”

he shrugs, a smirk just barely curling at his lip. “I don’t know that.”

zoro’s just messing with you, trying to brush off the depth of the request you’re making, but he gets it. he knows how much you value your independence, how his constant hovering puts it at stake, but hell, he can’t help it.

the swordsman had told himself he wouldn’t be that guy, yet with each milestone reached, whether it be the first time he’d noticed your bump or the first kick, he found himself unable to stop from- dare he say it- worrying.

however, in moments like this, when you’re stubborn and standing up to him, he realizes how much of a handful he is. on the bright side, all that independence of yours reminds him why he put that damn baby in you in the first place.

his teasing remark earns him a soft, yet pointed stare, your arms crossing just over your very full belly.

holding back a scoff, he takes a step closer. “yeah, yeah, fine, m’being a little… attentive, so what?” his free hand comes up, just barely brushing against your stomach. “you’re carryin’ the next greatest swordsman, or swordswoman, in there.”

you maintain your ground, but statements like that from him do wedge their way into your heart. “well yeah, but still, can’t I just go on a walk by myself?”

he mumbles something you can’t quite hear, his cheeks growing a little rosy. “you walk around the ship, don’t you?”

“alone, ‘zo,” you persist. “just me and baby.”

a large sigh and he looks at you, really looks, then he glances around the island. it has been safe, his finely tuned instincts picking up on absolutely nothing. the people are kind, the weather pleasant, and the oceans clear, gentle.

knowing you were close, seeing the gears turning in his head, you grab one of his arms. “pleeeease, ‘zo?”

he gives.

“fine, fine, you stubborn woman,” he straightens up, rolling his shoulders. “you can take a walk around town tonight. saw y’looking at that store yesterday, maybe you can go there.”

his posture softens, just a bit. “maybe nami and robin want to go with you,” he suggests, wanting you to have company.

“zoro…”

“just robin?”

“zoro!”

oh well, he tried. “just keep your transponder on you, alright?”

you give him a smile, using his arms as leverage as you lift yourself and place a kiss on his now pink cheeks. your tummy, full and holding a little person- his baby- brushes against him and he relaxes.

later that evening, when you finally get some time to yourself, you walk along and take in the sights, happy. soon, maybe in another month, your little warrior would be here… and you can’t even imagine how much more protective zoro will be.

[gothamite-rambler]

The batgirls on their periods (conclusion)

The batgirls on their period and how the boys handle them. My Aunt Flo is visiting this month and period woes should be told. All right, let’s do this thing!

Stephanie rested on the floor in the fetal position. She groaned from the intense cramps her period bestowed on her. Tim walked into the living room spotting her on the ground next to the couch.

Tim: Why are you on the floor?

Stephanie (uncomfortable): I attempted to readjust myself on the couch, and then I was on the ground. That's when the stomach cramps entered the mix and I am in too much cramp pain to want to get up. Why are these always so... intense?

Tim: You might have a medical condition related to the-

Stephanie (seething): I need you to stop doing what you usually do. I seriously don’t want to kick you in the crotch and mind you I’m at the level to do so.

Tim (not concerned): Sorry, it's hard turning it off. Um, do you... Do you need anything?

Stephanie (sardonic): For us to switch places and you go through this.

Tim shook his head with a frown.

Tim: Nah, I'm good.

Stephanie: It feels like an elephant is standing on top of my ovaries and… bouncing.

Tim: That is… oddly descriptive.

Stephanie chuckled raising her hand to talk with it.

Stephanie: Because it’s real, mon frère. At least I still have my humor.

She moaned in pain once more from the elephant bouncing pain.

Stephanie: I think this is it, Timothy. Leave me here to die. Tell my family I loved them and tell Kite-man not to attend my funeral. I’m serious, lock the doors if he tries to step foot at my burial service.

Tim rolled his eyes and helped his friend up.

Tim: At least lay on the couch.

Stephanie: Yes, I'll lay here and suffer.

Tim laid her on the couch and placed a pillow behind her head.

Tim: I can get you an ice or heating pack. That helped when I got kicked in the stomach.

Stephanie: Hmmm, bring me the warm one and Nutella and more carrots... And pain meds. The kind that will let me sleep like a baby.

Tim: Gotcha. Anything else?

Stephanie, raising her pointer finger spoke as if she was an old lady.

Stephanie (sounding like an old lady): Blanket, child. A fuzzy one.

Tim (sympathetic): You just rest. I will take care of you until your period ends. I'll also tell Bruce you're too... Sore is the word I want to use, yeah, too sore to go out tonight.

Stephanie: Thank you. You're the best.

Tim: I try to be.

---------------------------------------------

Dick Grayson got the angry side of the menstrual cycle. Something he dealt with since knowing Barbara and it was never a fun time. 

Barbara was not happy with her replacement cake. A vanilla and chocolate mixed cake that Dick bought at the grocery store.

Barbara: This isn't the same cake! It has vanilla in it! You bastard!

Barbara hurled the cake at Dick, hitting him squarely in the face with pinpoint accuracy. The cake quickly slid off, leaving behind a smattering of icing and crumbles clinging to his features. He inhaled sharply, his heavy breaths mingling with surprise.

Dick (mantra): Maintain peace. Maintain peace.

Barbara (crying): Why did you eat my cake? I needed it at this time!

Dick wiped cake out of his eyes, reminding himself he had to be calm when Barbara was going through PMDD during her time of the month.

Dick: Maybe you shouldn't have said I could eat the rest.

Barbara (shouting): You shouldn't have listened to me! I was naive back then!

Dick (losing his temper): It was… two days ago!

Barbara pouted then burst into more sobs, her makeup smearing and her glasses fogging from the tears.

Barbara (crying harder): You... YOU YELLED AT ME!

Dick (panicked): Don’t cry- How was I supposed to know your period was coming on?!

Barbara: You live with Bruce Wayne! The man tracks... everything! I thought you'd have the knowledge to do the same.

Dick (softly): I really don't. You seemed to fail at that too.

Barbara (angry): I was a few days off okay?! This is such shit! I’m tired and bloaty, and I can’t focus! I want to get to work, but my brain is foggy. Worst of all... you made me cry!

Barbara sobbed, her hands covering her face as her tears flowed. Dick let out a sigh and carefully approached her. He wrapped his arms around her, offering a comforting hug to reassure her that everything would be alright.

Dick: I know you're dealing with a tough week, and I really can't handle another sore foot. Why don't you take a break? Shut down this room for the night and give yourself some time to rest. I can swing by and pick up a big box of your favorite chocolates, along with a teddy bear you can use to vent your frustrations instead of taking it out on me. Just take some space until you’re ready to dive back into work and I'll try to do comms for the night.

Barbara (sniffling): That might actually help. I’m really sorry for yelling at you and running over your foot. The cake throwing was out of line too. I guess my PMDD makes me a bit harder to handle sometimes.

Dick (sarcastically): No really I couldn't tell.

Barbara: Can you not tell anyone I cried either?

Dick (smiling): I’d rather forget all of this happened, secrets safe with me.

---------------------------------------

Jason got lucky with the calmer side of the cycle, even though Cass is a bit shy about discussing it. Her birth father wasn’t really the type to take on the responsibility of raising a daughter properly. Bruce tried his best, but it was always a little awkward between them. At least Jason is a better person to take along to the local convenience store for menstrual supplies.

Cass walked over to Jason, carrying four different brand boxes of menstrual pads.

Cass: I couldn't figure out what to get so I picked each brand they had. I swear you think one brand will do its job and then… it doesn’t.

Jason shook his head, not wanting to dwell on what she meant. He closed his eyes, already regretting what he was about to say.

Jason: Never tell anyone this, but Artemis recommends the Playtex. Just get that so we can go.

Cass: Artemis suggested that? Okay, that’s the one to buy.

Cass handed Jason the Playtex box and then pushed the other brand boxes onto a store shelf.

Jason (blushing): All right, take this back please.

Cass giggled as she took the box back and tucked it under her arm.

Cass: I'm glad you took me to the store, you’re the best.

Cass tried to hug her brother, but he stepped aside.

Jason: Don't hug me in a convenience store as you're shopping for pads. I’m just as uncomfortable as you.

Cass (smiling): I'll give you that hug later. Oh if it's okay can you buy me a lot of caramel candies? I'm not a chocolate person honestly and these pads are expensive. 

Jason grabbed five bags without hesitation.

Jason: As long as I'm not paying for the...  Pads.

Cass: You so silly. You said Artemis has her own time of the month.

Jason (blushing): Yeah I don't- I don't help her out with that. Amazon women... not nice during that time. She screams at me if I talk to her during that pe- ti- situation. At least you're not as... Punchy as she is.

Cass: Yeah I'm pretty mellow during this time. Just bad cramps and feeling mushy.

Jason (sheepishly): That's... not mood swings. Good… for you. I think. This is my life right now.

Cass laughed, patting Jason on the arm.

Cass: Pretty much. I'm surprised you came in the store with me though.

Jason: I mean I wanted to help you out... because I care about you and I saw how nervous you were.

Cass sniffled with a smile.

Jason: Yeah I know I'm awesome. Let's check out. You go first.

Cass: I don't blame you.

---------------------------------------

Kate has been through her cycle enough times to be used to it. Her and Bruce were at Chili's (Not by Bruce's choice) and talk about menstrual cycles. Kate does all of the talking, Bruce is regretting ordering the burger.

Kate (chewing): I swear this one week is the bane of every woman who has to suffer through it. Blood coming out of that area, the aching and throbbing can be intense when my cramps start. It’s like someone is drilling a corkscrew into my uterus. The entire week is nothing but exhaustion, even walking is difficult. Then there’s the diarrhea and your breasts-

Bruce dropped his fork and slammed his fist on the table to silence his cousin. She let out a chuckle.

Bruce: Why are you telling me this while we're at a chain restaurant?

Kate laughed, taking another bite of her steak. 

Kate: You're my cousin and that gives me the right to gross you out. That and you have to know this by now. You have daughters.

Bruce: I'm starting to wish I had all boys.

Kate (mockingly): You boys are so sensitive about this stuff. How do you think we feel? 

Kate snatched a fry from Bruce's hand and popped it into her mouth. He had intended to eat that.

Bruce (monotone): You want the rest of my fries?

Kate: N- I’ll take a couple.

Kate grabbed a fist full of fries and plopped them on her plate.

Kate: Brucie, just support us like you do already and we won't cuss you out.

Bruce (doubtfully): Yes you will.

Kate: I’m lying you got me. You're doing a great job though, cuzzo.

Bruce (sweetly): I’m glad that I am.

Part 1

[dixons-sunshine]

Hope | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl never would’ve expected that the universe would grant him you, the love of his life, much less a child of his own to love and care for. So when your daughter was born, Daryl felt truly overwhelmed. However, it happened to be one of the best days of his life.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of childbirth, insecurities.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble but it got longer than I expected lol. I hope y’all like this!

Daryl was in complete awe. His heart was pounding out of his chest. His palms were extremely sweaty. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to say or do other than stand motionless and stare. Daryl was a quiet guy, but never before in his life had something rendered him completely speechless quite like this momentous occasion; the birth of his daughter.

It had been a good thirty, maybe forty minutes since the cries of his newborn baby flooded his ears, and he hadn’t been able to say or do anything except look at her and try to wrap his mind around the fact that he was a dad, that he had a daughter now. His baby girl. He was feeling overwhelmed by everything. He had read every pregnancy and parenting book he could get his hands on since you had told him you were pregnant, yet none of them could have ever prepared him for the actual experience. None of them could prepare him for the wave of emotions that flooded through his being when his daughter’s first cries filled the air. None of them could prepare him for the absolute certainty that filled him—he would kill anyone who’d dare hurt his baby girl.

“Dar? You still with me?”

The sound of your angelic voice snapped him from his train of thought. “Hm?” he hummed in acknowledgement, forcing himself to pay attention to his surroundings. He was sitting on a chair beside the bed in your home, courtesy of Carol’s kindness. She had taken one look at the archer during your labouring process and had cleverly noticed that he would faint if he didn’t sit down. Thankfully, the crossbow-wielding archer had stayed lucid during the birth, although he was certain that the bones in his hand were cracked from the force you had bestowed on them while you were pushing.

You chuckled fondly as you looked at him through tired, half lidded eyes. “You okay?” you asked him, wincing slightly when you shifted slightly to get more comfortable, the effects of the birth making themselves known to you. Your daughter was busy nursing, her adorable, eager, breathy suckles and gulps the only other sound that could be heard throughout the otherwise quiet room. Carol and Siddiq had left the room ten minutes prior, leaving you and Daryl alone to bond with your new baby.

Daryl cleared his throat and leaned forward in his chair, giving you his full attention. “M’pretty sure I should be askin’ ya that. Yer the one that pushed a baby out, not me.”

You chuckled again and nodded. “Yeah, I was. And I’m okay. I’m sore, but that was a given. Nothing we could’ve done to prevent the pain.” Your smile dropped a little, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you looked at your husband. “But seriously, are you okay? You seem a little... out of it.”

Daryl let out a small sigh. “M’jus’ a touch overwhelmed, I s’pose, but it ain’t nothin’ I can’t get over. S’jus’... Hearin’ her cries, and seein’ her... I don’ know. It made me realize that it wasn’t a dream. That this is real. That we’re really doin’ this, startin’ a family. S’a bit surreal to me, I guess. ‘Fore all’a this, ‘fore I met ya, when I was jus’ bummin’ it out with my brother, I never would’ve thought that I’d be doin’ this.”

You intently listened to his words, a small, understanding smile gracing your tired features. “Are you scared?”

“Ya kiddin’? M’fuckin’ terrified. I don’ wanna screw it up. I don’ wanna fail either’a ya. If I do... I don’ know what I’d do with myself,” Daryl confessed in a low whisper, his voice cracking towards the end.

Your heart went out for your partner. You were well aware of his fears. You were also well aware of the fact that no amount of reassuring would make his fears go away overnight. However, what you did know was that there was something you could do that could potentially make him feel better at that moment.

“Do you wanna hold her?” you asked him softly, your eyes locking onto his cerulean eyes.

Yes. Daryl definitely wanted to hold her. However, as his eyes trailed down to the small, fragile being that had seemingly had enough to eat and instead opted to slightly wiggle around in your embrace, a new set of worry overcame him.

“Yer sure?” he asked unsurely. “I ain’t gon’ break her or nothin’?”

A light laugh escaped your chest. “I promise you’re not going to break her. You’ll be fine, I promise. Come here. And maybe unbutton your shirt, if you’re comfortable.” Daryl furrowed his eyebrows at that last part, but understood when you explained it to him. “Skin to skin contact helps with bonding. At least, that’s what Carol told me. You don’t have to unbutton your shirt all the way. Just a bit is fine.”

“What ‘bout...” Daryl trailed off, vaguely motioning to his chest. He didn’t need to specify what he was talking about. You instantly knew. His scars.

You sent him a reassuring smile. “She’ll love you regardless, Dar, just like me. Nothing’s gonna change that. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

Daryl hesitated but ultimately stood up from the chair, slowly unbuttoning his shirt to a little over halfway, moving to sit next to you on the bed. “Remember to support her head.” Daryl nodded and slowly and gently accepted the baby into his embrace, heeding your advice and supporting her tiny head.

Daryl’s awe multiplied by one hundred when he held his baby girl in his arms for the first time. Her tiny head was practically the same size as his hand. Her tiny body lightly pressed against his scarred flesh as Daryl held her, and the archer couldn’t help the small laugh of wonder that escaped him. “She’s so small... She’s so damn small.” One of his fingers lightly traced over her tiny hand, and Daryl smiled when she lightly gripped his finger in her small fist. “She’s got quite the grip, too, and she ain’t even a day old yet. Real strong for her age, I reckon.”

“Definitely,” you agreed with a smile, slowly shifting your body to rest your chin on his shoulder, one of your hands coming up to softly trace over your daughter’s cheek. “She’s so perfect.”

“Jus’ like her mama.” Daryl turned his attention to you, placing a soft, tender kiss on your forehead.

You didn’t argue with his words, instead simply accepting the compliment with a small smile. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, simply observing your little girl as she slowly fell asleep in her father’s arms. However, Daryl soon broke the silence again.

“Hope.”

You lifted your chin from his shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Her name,” he began to explain. “I think we should call her Hope. S’what I feel when I look at her. Jus’ feels right.”

You smiled at him, before turning your attention back to your daughter. “Welcome to the world, Hope Dixon. I love you so much,” you whispered to her softly, quietly acknowledging Daryl’s choice of a name. Hope. It was perfect.

Daryl sent you a small smile. “S’got a nice ring to it. Hope Dixon.”

“It’s perfect,” you agreed with a smile. “I love you, Daryl.”

“Nah, I definitely love ya more, Sunshine. I love ya so much.”

[bloodlust-1]

A baby is on the way!

Tav is expecting a little one! This is how I’d imagine the companions to react during the pregnancy and birth

Reactions/head-canons!

Featuring:

Astarion

Gale

Halsin

Astarion

When Tav tells him she’s pregnant:

- “What? Is this some kind of joke cause it’s not funny, Tav! You can’t really be pregnant— I mean happy things don’t happen to me. Right..?”

Reality will kick in, he won’t admit he’s excited at first, but she can see the happiness in his eyes.

Belly is gettin’ bigger! :

- “My little sweet with her tummy all grown. I’ve never seen such a beautiful sight, if I say so myself.”

While she naps he loves talk to her stomach, saying random names until something sticks. He loves gender-neutral names.

Preparing for the baby:

-“How in the hells do you put this together!?” He fights against the bassinet. “Gods, please give me the patience to see this through.”

-“You know, our baby is going to be the cutest face to ever grace faerun! With parents that look like us, hah!”

He visits healers with her often, and even secretly confides in Gale for pregnancy books to learn more about a half-vampire baby.

The baby is coming:

-“Deep breaths my love.”

-“You’re doing so well, our baby is almost here.”

Astarion makes sure to bring all of his baby care he prepared. He never leaves her side, holds her hand, and occasionally yells at the healers to help her with the pain from the contractions.

The baby is born: It’s a girl!

- “She has your eyes. Thank you, for giving me something I can fall in love with all over again. I love you.”

He weeps in happiness and relief as the baby takes its first cry, he is the first to hold her.

He doesn’t allow anyone to see the baby until Tav gains her energy back. He stares at the baby and points out what features are his and what is Tav’s.

Gale

When Tav tells him she’s pregnant:

-“I-I…This is fantastic news! I’m going to be a father! We must celebrate at once.”

The first week of telling Gale he went to buy the most beautiful embroidered baby blanket, and occasionally showed up to the house with random baby items.

Already planning the baby shower.

Belly is gettin’ bigger! :

-“You have a glow to you, I’m happy you both are both healthy, my love. Let me cook you something for dinner.”

Gale loves to hug her belly from behind when they are in bed. He traces little hearts on her stomach.

Preparing for the baby:

- “Darling, I visited the library and look what I found!” He dumps a pile of books on the table. Its books about parenting, pregnancy, and babies-101. “Now we’ll be ready for any obstacle. I hope.”

They discus a birthing plan with each other. Gale really wants her to deliver the baby in Waterdeep, his home town where his family could visit them.

Gale won’t let her move a finger. You have to go up the stairs? Not without him. You need a glass of water? He’ll fetch it. He cooks all her favorite meals and weird cravings.

The nursery room they’ve built together is inspired by the stars. All the pretty star and moon decorations were placed in the nursery.

The baby is coming:

“There, there, it’ll all be better soon.”

“I can’t wait to see our baby.”

Gale brought the best healers he know to assist Tav. He rubs her lower back to try and comfort the contractions. He is extremely nervous— hands shaking and all!

The baby is born: It’s a boy!

“You did perfect— he’s perfect. I-I don’t even know what to say. We’re a family now, Tav…” <3

He tied back Tav’s hair in a bun and helped her shower after giving birth.

Gale watches Tav breast feed as he rubs the baby’s cheek and whispers the baby’s name to it. Promising him a good life.

Halsin

When Tav tells him she’s pregnant:

-“I knew there was something off with you, I’m just surprised this is why! You’ve already made me so happy, and now you’re giving me the biggest gift nature can bestow on me.”

She catches Halsin praying to his god, giving it thanks for the giving him a baby and family.

He starts to study babies more, even brining back natural remedies for Tav to use/eat for the baby’s health.

Belly is gettin’ bigger! :

-“At this rate you won’t be able to walk soon. Do you need your back rubbed again, my heart?”

Her belly is super big, almost too big for just 1 baby. Halsin barely leaves her side and took time away from being a leader to help Tav with her pregnancy.

He carves small wooden toys for the baby, especially ducks. He always shows Tav for validation to see if she likes them, of course she always does.

Preparing for the baby:

-“The baby will be here soon, I’ve alerted everyone in the grove to keep a watchful eye on you to make sure you don’t go too far from home. I want you to be safe.”

Halsin prepares a tub for Tav to give birth in the comfort of their own home. He collected many towels, aloe, and much other natural remedies to reduce her pain during labor.

He wants Tav to pick the baby’s name, he feels as if this is natures gift and that the mother should have free range to name the baby. He is happy with anything.

He orders midwives to make Tav eat soups, many that don’t taste great but are super packed with benefits for a healthy baby.

The baby is coming:

-“It hurts my heart to see you like this, but I promise we’ll get through this together.”

-“Keep pushing, my love, you are doing so well, don’t stop now.”

Tav never seen him so nervous. Her contractions were very frequent with little to no time between them. He gets extremely overwhelmed and starts to get snappy with the midwives to try and help Tav cope. He even tries healing magic on her as well to help.

Halsin holds her hand in both palms, he squeezes them whenever she groans in pain. He always uses loving words to try and comfort her.

The baby is born: It’s twins! Boy & Girl

-“Look, Tav! It’s our cubs, they’re beautiful. This is truly a blessing from nature, I am forever grateful for you for giving me a family. I promise to protect us all.”

He holds both babies in each arm, swaying them slowly and adoring their little faces. He orders all and any crowd away from the home for privacy between the couple. Halsin likes to call them his cubs. He gives Tav many kisses and thanks.

Halsin prepares a ceremony to introduce the babies to the Oak Father. They were wrapped in the finest silk blankets and all the grove attended, giving their prayers to welcome the children.

Many members of the grove gives the newly parents much gifts and food. Halsin has never been happier and is excited to teach his skills to his cubs.

Note: Halsin a twin daddy? 🥺 omg my heart, I could imagine him playing toys with them and teaching them how to go into wild shape. Little cubs running around the house. <3333

[seivsite]

KITTY’S CHARM.

includes: lyney x fem!reader. lyney knows reader but reader doesn’t know lyney, he’s a cat like the one in his hat, soft kisses, fluff, lyney is a flirt & a tease, not proofread — wc: 570

“Ah, hello there, kitty,” you whispered softly, your fingers gently caressing the small cat’s fur.

“What brings you out here all alone?”You picked up the cat, feeling it nuzzle against your knee with a gentle lean.

“Meow〜”

“Alright, little one, I’ll take you home. Just remember, no wreaking havoc on my couch,” you playfully cautioned, cradling the cat tenderly as you made your way back home.

Upon arriving home, the cat gracefully hopped out of your arms, already making itself at ease in its newfound surroundings.

“Why so restless, huh? You’re already at home,” you teased, watching the ebony feline’s paw gently tap at your pants.

As night fell, you embarked on your customary routine—slipping into comfortable pajamas and placing a glass of water on your bedside table. The dark cat followed suit, sauntering into your room and settling onto your bed, finding a cozy spot as you nestled in.

“Come here, kitty,” you coaxed, spreading your arms and the blanket invitingly. The cat nestled in close, its content purrs of delight filling the air as you held it close.

“Goodnight, kitty,” you murmured, bestowing a tender kiss upon its nose before surrendering to a tranquil slumber.

Nestling closer to the warmth beside you, you sleepily enveloped it with your arms.

To your astonishment, you realised an arm in your grasp, and tracing further down, your fingers met another hand. As your eyes shot open in shock, you were met with the sight of an ash-blond man in your bed.

“WHO ARE YOU, AND WHY ARE YOU IN MY BED?!” you exclaimed, launching a pillow at the man, who adeptly evaded it.

“I’m Kitty, or you can call me Lyney," he replied, his innocent smile attempting to defuse the situation.

“The magician? How and why were you a cat?!” you persisted, only to be silenced by his finger pressing gently against your lips.

“Well, Madam, it appears I accidentally imbibed a potion and found myself transformed into a cat. Thankfully, you stumbled upon me and came to my rescue. So, might I offer you anything in return for your kindness?” he inquired playfully, conjuring a rainbow rose in his hand and extending it towards you.

“I’m not… quite sure,” you mused, holding the rose delicately in your hand. Suddenly, you felt his finger gently lifting your chin.

“How about bestowing me with another kiss?” he teased, leaning closer to you.

A rosy hue tinted your cheeks as his enchanting smile held you captive.

“That kiss was meant for the kitty, not you,” you stammered, nervously pressing your lips together.

“Hmm, but I’m still the kitty in human form, aren’t I?” he persisted, his playful tone lingering in the air.

“Come on, just one little kiss,” he pleaded, his eyes sparkling.

“Not a chance.”

“Not even on the cheek?” he pouted, his playful charm impossible to resist.

“Ugh, fine,” you relented, your exasperation evident in a soft groan. You leaned in to plant a swift peck on what you believed to be his cheek, only to find him moving his head, causing your lips to meet his in a surprising twist.

“Thank you for the sweet kiss, my lady,” he whispered, a playful wink accompanying his words.

He chuckled softly as he watched your cheeks turn a delicate shade of red. Your endearing display of shyness only deepened his affection for you, making him fall even more head over heels.

NOTES. he’s very writeable, i keep thinking about cat noir whenever i write about him

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! ‹3

[mitfloya]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞

pairings. Zayne x gn!reader

wc. 7K (yes, I like to torture myself)

synopsis. He was believed to be devoid of emotions, until you unveils his chilling secret. His hidden obsession with you has ensnared you in his icy sanctuary. You were blind to his fixation until it was too late, and now you find yourself trapped in his clutches, unable to escape.

warnings. The following content contains elements of obsessive behavior, yandere thoughts, stalking, possessive behavior, and may include poorly written narratives. Reader is referred to as 'you'. Proceed with caution, as this writing may be unsettling or uncomfortable for some individuals.

a/n. Hello people of the internet! I’m pretty new on this writing community so I hope I bring you guys some good crumbs to munch on! and excuse my horrible grammatical errors, English is not my first language. I may or may not have spend my time throwing up this whole ass detailed (press x to doubt) HC out of my mind, I tend to go overboard with my analysis and writing. Get some snacks and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy making this HC.

p.s. this is a reupload ver. the original of the post is accidently deleted

♡ Please reblog and comment on this post are much, much appreciated ♡

Ah…the ice king himself, known for his emotional detachment and seemingly heartless demeanor. His motives and intentions remain shrouded in mystery, as he builds impenetrable walls around himself. Yet, somehow, you managed to slip through those barriers, like a delicate flower pushing through the cracks in concrete, planting the seed of love without his knowledge.

Does he act upon it? Certainly not at first. He ignores it. Pretend that is was merely a sign you were someone he tolerated.

His acts of kindness are always subtle and unexpected. He treats you in a way that evokes certain reactions.

At first, he might seem out of reach. But you never know that he is always there for you. Always observing and studying your responses.

As you both transition into adulthood, he becomes your primary physician, a role that only intensifies his growing obsession with you. He never considered himself capable of falling in love at first sight, but his feelings for you gradually took root. He is always there with you, from childhood and in adulthood. Fate must have bestowed him with great luck to be your guardian, the one who monitors your health and controls your existence.

The time when you both went on your separate ways before you met again, he feels a void, a sense that something is missing. Maybe you meant more than he thought. The loss of you kills him. But does this heavy feeling affect his daily activities? no.

The thought of not knowing about your health and safety gnaws at him, like a splinter lodged in his mind. Have you eaten yet? Did you eat enough? Did you get enough sleep? Did you stumble upon an accident? Just a single scratch of wound on your skin would infuriate him.

You, on the other hand, dismiss it as the instinctual concern of a physician, and your own health condition made it even more difficult for him to let you go. You were far too precious to be released or, worse, left alone and broken.

Even when you’re away on your mission, he always ask about your being and whereabouts. He just wanted to know how you’re doing and it shows how much he cares for you, not monitoring you! That’s ridiculous, right?

However, whenever you were around him, you never felt like you were in control of your own bodily autonomy. Maybe you’re seeing things but have you realize how much you’re changing your lifestyle?

Zayne intelligence is no joke. You were far too naive to look back over your shoulder to notice he is manipulating you. He wants you to be completely dependent on him. But is it really that bad? After all, he was providing you with a healthier lifestyle, not to mention preserving your beauty. Or so it seemed.

Oh, but when you became his, everything changed. He became more open, more loving and caring, the kind that makes you melt to the ground and swallow you whole. Always attentive to your needs and wants, he has no problem with you buying expensive items, the money isn’t his concern. Your happiness is.

His actions become more evident, sometimes you notice it in the way he always makes sure you’re fully geared up and energized for the day, or the way he tries his best to brighten up your day in rainy days.

And when the time came for you to move in together, almost imperceptibly, it felt natural, that’s when he brings the real authenticity of himself, the carnal desire to claim over you starts to show.

He adorned you with the finest fabrics, adorned you with the most exquisite gems and jewelry that accentuated your beauty without overshadowing it. He always gives you the best and never less.

No one would question how many pictures he has of you around the house, as they simply depicted a man deeply in love with his partner…wait, you don’t remember taking this picture..how did he get this picture? 

Caleb gives it to him. As always he has answers to everything, it makes you think he is expecting that kind of question, which is an odd behavior.

Even the windowsill display those seals and trinkets he has given you over the years, customized to your liking.

You saw it as a preservation of memories and the time he had spent with you, when it’s clearly a growing sign of obsession with the abundance of things of your own possessions, or things that reminded him of you were around the house, to the dark corners of his secret room you were unaware of. 

You don’t realize you were brainwashed, did you? Or maybe because he is telling the truth from the start, he loves you very much and his actions serve as undeniable proof!

Until you try to resist or argue with him. It would be best for you to stay obedient and let him lead, he is the man in the relationship, you are his good girl, right? He never wants to hurt you, he is doing it for the better sake of you.

You learned your lesson when you got your first punishment. Each mistake or letdown adds a droplet, gradually increasing the intensity. When the glass finally overflows, it serves as a stark warning to never hurt or disappoint him.

Your life revolves around him. You want to buy groceries? Wait until he finish work. You want to go to the park? Let’s go together and don’t forget your coat, he doesn’t want you to get cold. You want to have some time alone outside? Sure.

Ah, the innocence of those early stages of dating, when the idea of tracking your partner's whereabouts seemed endearing. Little did you know that innocent app you stumbled upon on a social media platform would become the chains that bind you. In the beginning, it seemed like a cute way to track the distance between you and your partner.

That app, like a digital spider's web, silently weaves its threads around your every move. From the moment you installed it, it became his watchful eye, tracking your every step, monitoring your every move.

How naive and compliant you are, unknowingly making it easier for him to watch over you. 

He doesn’t react much when a guy approaches you, no one will be brave enough, because you will always stay glued to his side. He often uses his sharp tongue to highlight their flaws and insecurities. Give them a judgmental stare at the guy as if he was nothing and brings nothing good in life like a mosquito.

Resorting to violence or criminal acts were never his first choice to get rid of those pesky nuisances, his jealousy always remains hidden and possibly close to nonexistent.

Because he knows, you will always comes running back to him. Even if you manage to slip from his grasp, he holds the power to reclaim you, by any means necessary. In dire circumstances, he does not hesitate to resort to violence, to eliminate anyone who dares to steal you away. He doesn't care if he has to hurt you or isolate you, nobody could ever love you like he did. 

Once you are married and start a family together, your life will be forever intertwined with his. That's the end of you or maybe a better version of you that you never envisioned or hoped for, nevertheless it was all because of your love for Zayne that you willingly let him take control, it’s the best life you could ever live in, right?

You will never leave out of his sight forever.

© 2024 mitfloya — all rights reserved. kindly refrain from altering, translating, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

[lxmelle]

Gojo’s letters & the implied parting message (Part 2)

I came across a view on Twitter (now X) that was interesting that I probably would have never thought of myself. While I may not agree with it 100% on its own, I can totally see the value in it and I wanted to share it here, seeing as how others may appreciate the perspective too. I’ve added my own thoughts which you’re welcome to read… Then you can make up your own mind about your personal interpretation 😊

So the sentiment is as follows:

At the end of HI, past-Gojo casually went up to Megumi to tell him that he killed his father, showing us that he is a little tactless. But, upon being told what Megumi wanted, he respected that Megumi didn’t want to know and accepted this for 10 years.

Despite that; however, we can infer from things we have been shown that he has always wanted Megumi to know. He was probably waiting for a good time. (As we know, Gojo doesn’t really impose his view onto others.)

Knowing there had to be a time where this message was delivered, he prepped the letter that would only be delivered if he (Gojo) died.

And what better timing & purpose, if it could help Megumi absolve any guilt he might have over (his body) killing Gojo? (Because him being dead meant Megumi likely killed him, thanks to Sukuna.)

According to the person whose Twt I read, they felt that Megumi’s laughing reaction was due to Gojo’s uncharacteristic consideration for him.

In other words, he was relaying it after he died to Megumi as a way to say: You got this cuz I’m dead. “And if you think your father is out there somewhere, he isn’t. It was me who killed him. Soz!” So don’t feel guilty.

Hm. Well, this was kind of echoed in at least another tweet and there were a few who made it out as if this was a fitting interpretation.

I also gathered from my last post on this subject, that Megumi was chuckling out of fondness, like “Geez, that’s so typical of you, sensei.”

But I do personally think it’s important to underline the fact that Gojo has always put in the effort to understand people even if he struggled to show it, or showed it clumsily. (Just like, “have you had too much somen?” - as said to Geto, back in the day.) So maybe it seemed uncharacteristic to Megumi, but I hope as a reader, we understand that Gojo had his own ways of being kind.

After all who can blame him if he didn’t quite fully understand what it meant to have blood family, being separated from his own? Born as an anomaly - a mutant amongst mutants. Who felt like others (flowers) couldn’t never comprehend a creature — and who could, unless they were bestowed with some monstrous skill themselves? (Like Geto, and Gojo had hoped, Sukuna... but the latter clung onto his stubborn self-protective belief of not needing “love” (compassion) until the very end, choosing to die instead of taking Yuji’s hand - another post on this another time).

And Gojo, after having been told last words from Toji and Geto about the importance of family, he may have gathered that it was better for Nobara and Megumi to know, than to have it concealed from them. Hence, the letters.

Know your family. Then decide who your family really is.

My own thoughts about the theory are as such: Gojo may have really wanted to tell Megumi that it was he who killed his father, because this was the only person he killed without a reason. (…that we know of: Gojo was canonically shown to have only killed two humans - Toji & Geto).

After Geto left, the parting message was: “don’t kill anyone other than me” - in other words, don’t do what I did, because that will make you lonely. If you need to kill, kill if there is a clear purpose or meaning in it.

This was his last lesson delivered to Gojo. We know his parting phrase was imbued with meaning due to everything we saw in HI and the draft words that Gege released from chapter (78) - important enough to make it to the exhibition and Gojo’s JUMP GIGA Character Book.

Geto played a significant role in him smartening up, how to connect with others, how to empathise with people, to think about what his responsibilities were as someone with strength.

So Gojo telling Megumi this was almost as if to say: you can stop wondering about him now; you weren’t left behind. I killed your father. You don’t have to feel responsible for it because there was meaning in it too.

In words Gojo might use: I killed him, you killed me. We’re even!

I guess it’s not only because Megumi couldn’t help it being Sukuna’s vessel. But also that he avenged his father’s death. All of Megumi’s thoughts relating to his father and Tsumiki as above: Retribution, karma, discipline… fairness and Megumi deserved happiness too.

And he chose to live again, starting by living for Yuji. A new purpose… he didn’t want Yuji to be lonely.

A loneliness I think he knew all too well.

He can add on more family after that. Nobara. Etc.

That’s it I guess. Thoughts?

[thelov3lybookworm]

Gone Through Enough (part 2)

Day 2: Childhood

Summary: New friends and heartbreaks.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2053

A/n: hehehe this one is looong (kinda)

@erisweekofficial

this is the part 2 of this series, soooo

✨ENJOYYY✨

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Y/n had not wanted to move into the big, scary looking palace, but her mom had told her that it was important. Something about a high lord and her father working for him.

It did not mean the high walls intimidated her any less. The palace-like house looked like it contained ghosts. The place was too big for Y/n’s liking, who was used to living in a home where every corner was filled with love and didn’t look like you would get snatched wherever you turned.

The palace looked like the people inside would be mean and not give Y/n her favourite pineapple cake just for the sake of making her cry.

She reached up to grasp her father’s hand tightly, Sir Pine clutched tightly in her other arm, her stuffed bunny.

George August glanced down at his little daughter, smiling slightly at the petrified look on her face as the driver of the carriage finished unloading the bags the family had brought along. Servants rushed to pick up the bags, bowing deeply before hurrying away. It scared Y/n more, and she let go of her father’s hand to wrap herself around his leg.

Alana glanced at her husband, then tried to get Y/n to let go.

George simply smiled, then gathered Y/n in his arms. "You have nothing to worry about, my love. You will make friends here."

The girl blinked at her father.

He chuckled. "There is a boy your age. I’m sure you will be the best of friends. You will be kind to him, won’t you?"

The girl nodded vigorously, her fright momentarily forgotten as she began rambling about how she would share her toys with him.

George led them in, already familiar with the layout of the massive fortress, considering he was the high lord’s most trusted advisor. Also the reason he was ordered to move in with the royal family.

The high lord had bestowed what he thought was a favour upon the Augusts.

Stalking through the winding corridors with his daughter hugging him tightly, George finally stopped in front of the chambers the high lord had assigned to the family, then passed Y/n to his wife.

"Alana, there is a chance the lady would be waiting for you inside. Good luck."

Alana nodded, then walked in, setting Y/n on the ground.

Y/n was in awe of the room. Despite how scary the exterior looked, the room she had come in with her mother was very nice. The walls were the same colour as Y/n’s room back at her old home, the fire in the hearth warming up the entire sitting area.

Where a lady was also waiting with a boy in her lap.

Y/n gasped, then hurried to hide behind her mother, her little frock bouncing against her knees.

"My lady, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you." Y/n’s mother spoke, her voice echoing in the high arched chamber.

"I would love to say the same, Lady August. And who’s that little angel behind you, if I may ask?"

Y/n peeked around her mother’s skirts, eyes wide as she stared at the lady from before. She looked nice, and not how Y/n had thought she would look like because she lived in this scary palace.

Y/n refused to speak unless her mother told her to, so she waited as the two ladies continued speaking, then looked at the boy who poked his head out from behind the lady. He had the same height as Y/n, and his hair was red. What shocked Y/n though was his eyes. She had personally never met someone with amber eyes.

They looked almost like liquid gold.

"Y/n? Meet Eris." Y/n glanced up at her mother when the lady spoke, suddenly feeling shy. "Oh, and pardon me. I did not introduce myself! Silly me, I am lady Autumn, though you can call me anything you want."

Y/n ducked her head in a shy nod, smiling because that was the right thing to do as Y/n’s old nanny said.

"Eris? Why don’t you show Y/n your toys, huh?"

The boy nodded, then came forward. He offered his hand to Y/n, who glanced at her mother before taking it. He led her out and into another room, where he pulled out a box of wooden swords and shields.

It is safe to say Y/n got bored pretty soon.

But she did love playing with him and dragged him off to show him her toys, though she did have to be her mother to unpack her toys.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Eris’s pov.

Eris had nothing to smile about, really. But he woke up with a smile every morning because of her.

Y/n was his friend, the only one he knew cared about him. She made him smile, she made him laugh. Hell, she made him cry. But it was something he was happy about, because he could never cry in front of anyone else.

Even alone in his own room, he hesitated to let go of his frustration in tears, because being the son of the high lord, even the walls were his enemy.

But with her, he felt safe, secure. Everytime after a beating, she would come talk to him, bring snacks. She would look into his eyes and instantly know whether he wanted her to ignore his newest bruises or whether he wanted to sob his heart out.

She was just like that, his Y/n. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

So when he heard the news of her departure from the capital and into a fairly far away province, his heart nearly gave out.

As he now ran towards her room after overhearing a conversation between George and his father, he wondered if there was any way he could beg her to stay.

Wondered if it would even matter, considering it was the high lord who was sending the August’s away because he was pleased.

Beron had decided to gift one of the bigger provinces to them because he was pleased with their loyalty and services to him.

Eris doubted it was the only reason, considering Y/n and Eris had been growing ever closer recently.

But his mind emptied of thoughts as he skidded to a halt in front of the large double doors and then, heart in his throat, pushed them open and hurried inside.

There on the couch sat Y/n, holding her favourite bunny toy that was falling apart at the seams.

His heart stopped, then started beating faster.

Eris was barely fourteen, still a baby in fae standards, but he was not dumb enough to not understand what he felt towards Y/n was not just friendship.

But he did not want to think too much about what he felt when the one he cared so much for was sobbing right in front of his eyes.

She glanced up as soon as he sat down next to her, and reached out her hand to hold his. "Eris." she gushed, "I don’t want to go. I will have no one to play with, no one to talk to. I don’t want to leave you here either, Er."

He nodded, tugging her into a hug.

"I don’t want to leave you here. He will hit you again and I won’t be here to hug you. What will you do?"

"If I’m being honest, I don’t know how I will survive either. But we have no other option, you know that."

She nodded, pulling away and wiping her tears. "Promise we’ll stay in touch?"

She extended her smallest finger to him, and despite how ridiculous he had always found this pinky promise of hers, he lifted his hand, wrapping his finger around hers, nodding. "Promise."

But as a day later, Eris watched her wave at him teary eyed, and then watched the carriage drive off, the horses whining, he knew it would be almost impossible to keep that promise.

And even though he knew she was as helpless as he was, he did not realise when tha seed of resentment took root in his heart where once a happy tree flourished in the barren land of his conscious.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"So I get anything I want if I agree to help you out?"

Eris nodded, meeting the three pairs of eyes that sat around the lounge in his bedchambers.

"Anything that is within reason, obviously."

"So if I want more land, I get it. If I want to come back and be a part of your council of advisors, I will-"

"Yes. As long as it is not something as absurd as handing you the whole court, I will give it to you."

George August grinned, standing up and sending a glance at Y/n. "The plan has already been set in motion."

Eris wondered if Y/n knew, but by the furrow on her forehead, she didn’t. The fact that she was even a pawn in this dangerous game -let alone the fact that she had been oblivious about it- boiled Eris’s blood.

"Care to elaborate?"

Y/n’s father opened his mouth, and with every word that he uttered, Eris had to hold himself back from punching his teeth down his throat.

Y/n showed no emotions as her father talked about his plan, and when her mother started giving her inputs, she just looked numb.

But Eris could see the turmoil in her eyes.

When George finally stopped speaking, Eris dismissed them, but then he did what he never would have in his sane mind.

But, well, he was not in his sane mind.

"Y/n. Stay, I have to talk to you about something."

She glanced at him skeptically, her eyes burning, but then dipped her head in a nod.

Eris did not miss the smirk George shot his wife as the couple exited.

He walked over to his liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and began making himself a glass.

Y/n remained quiet while he worked, but Eris could feel her gaze on him the whole time.

Once he was done, he settled down on the settee, meeting her eyes.

"Are you okay with this plan?"

She raised one perfect eyebrow. "Why do you care?"

He stared at her as he shot back the glass in his hand, refusing to wince as the liquid burned his throat.

"Are you okay with this plan."

She snorted. "Like it matters to you."

She turned to the door, her hand grabbing the handle. But before she could so much as take her next breath, he was on her.

"I think I asked you a question, Y/n."

She glared at him over her shoulder as he pressed her against the door. "And so did I."

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t-

"It does matter to me Y/n. It does because if you are not okay with this plan, it could go wrong-"

She let out a harsh laugh, pushing against his hold. He let her go, scowling as she turned to him with a sadistic smile. "Of course. It only matters to you because me being a pawn in this benefits you."

His heart begged Eris to tell her the truth, but Eris refused to bow down.

"I mean, what did I even expect? You didn’t care about me this past century and a half. Why would you care now?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, placing his palm above her head, the grooves carved into the wood digging into his skin. "You never tried to reach out to me for you to pretend it was my fault we did not stay in touch."

Her lips parted, disbelief shining in her beautiful eyes.

"You don’t know what you are talking about. And even if I did not reach out, you never tried to either. You can’t put the whole blame on me."

She spoke the truth. That did not mean Eris liked it.

He maintained eye contact, breathing deep in through his nose before she shoved him off of her, scoffing when he stumbled back.

And then she left.

Just like she had over a century ago.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Lilia, Epel: Blessing Givers, Curse Breaker

Lilia’s vignettes continue to be gold! He “humble” brags about how his voice is great, he’s sooo adorable, and such an ikemen… (Apparently he realized he was cute because people would give him free stuff and help on his travels and when he first came to NRC!) Best part was definitely when Lilia described cooking for his dorm members and they were “so touched” that they bowed their heads, covered their faces, and/or cried 💀 NOT THEM PUTTING A PICTURE OF MALEFICENT DRAGON FORM ON LILIA'S BIRTHDAY CARD… His vignettes also mention having the strength to overcome “a curse” 😭 Cruel reminders of the tragedy that unfolded in his past, and bis unfulfilled search for a cure for Silver... TWST devs, you sickos/j

A Tale as Old as Time.

Three fairies crowded around a cradle, its curtained hood up to obscure the infant within. Green, pink, blue—each was dressed in a particular color. They glanced at the baby and at each other, mouths agape to discuss their blessings.

Safeguarded within the platinum frame was a celebration of life and a future yet to be told. The fragile start of a brand new story.

Lilia wanted to protect it himself.

“Looks like some fancy shindig.” The remark came from Epel, who gazed upon the same painting. "Erm... I mean, party. That is what it is, right...?"

"They've come to bestow gifts upon a newborn princess. Royal affairs can be a bit stiff, I'm afraid. Can't even show up to one without an invitation! Some hosts are just sticklers for tradition and protocol."

"Oh, I got it!" Epel visibly perked, cheeks appling with pink. "It's a different kind of gathering. Back home in Harveston, they're a lot more informal. Family and all the neighbors coming by with plates of warm food, a makeshift band and folks dancing, catching up by the fire... It's so lively."

Lilia’s lip curled, the corners lifting into a slight smile. "It's good to know that your hometown hasn't lost its charm."

"You've visited before?"

"Once, long ago," the ancient fae chuckled, "when I was still a stubborn and stony-faced youth. The people of Harveston opened their hearts and offered hospitality. From what you've told me, it's clear that the very same spirit from then persists to this day."

"Gosh, really?" Epel puffed up at that, as though he were a peacock flaunting his feathers. "Hehe, wellll, Harveston does have a way of makin' ya feel cozy and right at home, even if yer far away from it!"

"That it does." Lilia's eyes traced the wall of artwork before him. The colors, shapes, and textures. "Twisted Wonderland is so vast and diverse. I've traveled far and wide, experienced a great deal of cultures, yet I always find myself anchored to that one special place called home. There is no comfort like it."

There’s no place like home.

A twinge pulsated in his chest. The pain, marring the nostalgic warmth he bathed in. Lilia did not let it show—not to his underclassman, not this child that stared at him with such eagerness.

He swallowed.

“How do you celebrate in Briar Valley?” Epel asked. “Can you tell me about your traditions too?”

“Kufufu. You’re keen on learning, I see.”

“I didn’t always. I’m sure if you asked Vil, he’d give you a mouthful about how ‘uppity’ and ‘full of myself’ I was at first.” Epel groaned at the thought of another lecture from his dorm leader. “… But recently, I’ve been thinkin’ it’s not too bad to hear about how others experience everything.

“Meemaw—my grandma—goes to the city to sell our farm’s produce. She has to switch up how she talks to speak to the locals. I noticed our mayor too, when he talks to tourists. So learning about new people and cultures can’t be a bad thing.”

Epel’s eyes were wide, sparkling with wanderlust. Wistful and longing for the world that awaited him.

Perhaps Lilia had worn the same expression before, at the moment of his epiphany. When had he realized it? When the elderly couple had draped a blanket over him, when they shared a meal, when they spun him the stories of their lives, or when he sat at the cradle and relived those times to a still dormant Malleus?

The warmth in him expanded, like a gulp of soup trickling down his throat, then splashing in his stomach. It had been a humble broth of vegetables, and yet it satisfied him down to the last drop.

“We’re really not so different,” Lilia explained with a grin. “Food and friends are all you need to have a good time wherever you are.

“However, if you are particularly fortunate, you just may have a guardian fairy descend and give you blessings as well.” He indicated the painting of the three fairies hovering over a cradle. “Like so. I believe this infant was gifted with song, beauty, and…”

“Song and beauty?!” Epel’s expression crinkled. “Who decided on those, the parents?”

“The guardian fairies themselves. They choose what they believe will bring the blessed child happiness.”

“They could’ve given the kid something more…” Epel vaguely waved a hand. “I don’t know, useful? Why not strength so they won’t lose any fights? I’d be happy with some more muscle of my own…”

Lilia laughed, soft and low like a midnight whisper. “Why not indeed.”

Because time steals away everything eventually, hissed a voice in his head. The truth, bare and bitter.

The edges of Lilia’s vision quivered. A memory resurfaced—blink, and he saw himself in the frame, his long shadow cast over the crib. Blink, and that was Silver nestled in the fabric. Blink, and the castle was abandoned and covered in thorns.

A fairy robbing a crib of its cursed child.

“Strength is good to have,” Lilia said slowly, “but it will not last forever. Not many things do.”

Still… If I could have one wish, it would be…

The only force able to break the spell set upon Silver. The one feeling he was certain he was incapable of. A love so pure and honest, it was known to be true.

Something he wasn’t worthy of.

True love.

Not him. Not the grimy, low-born bat of a dubious past—as his most unkind of thoughts would insist.

He was the same as them. He had condemned Silver to walking in the night, had made the decision for him. The instant his hair had turned from pale sunshine to the moonlight of his namesake, it was too late to unwind the clock.

Which had he cast—blessing or curse?

The longer he looked at the painting, the more mocking the gentle, rounded faces of the guardian fairies seemed to become. Guiltless, oblivious beings, they were.

They would never know of his plight.

Lilia scoffed. “If the fairies wanted the child to be happy, they should have granted them that strength.”

That which was impossible for him.

"The power to overcome a curse.”

"... The power to overcome a curse, huh?" Epel quietly mused. "Not even Vil-senpai has that kind of strength--and his unique magic is to cast curses! Until the conditions are fulfilled, it can't be broken."

"That's the trouble with curses," Lilia agreed. "They're finicky, depending on how they're woven. Some may even last a lifetime without ever being lifted. Others may spend their own lives seeking out cures."

The story of his life. He was always searching for something, something, something. Lost friends, how to hatch a dragon's egg, true love to dispel drowsiness.

Now, a happy ending.

Lilia released a sigh through his nose.

If only.

"Well, if magic can't make that wish come true... we'll just have to make it a reality ourselves, won't we?"

[amorgansgal]

Such Sweet Sorrow

So here is part 3 to my Fat Female Reader x Gale fic! This is a follow up to A Bitter Pill to Swallow and Practice Makes Perfect. This idea was suggested by @viluftic so thank you very much for that! Is everyone ready to suffer?

Gale drummed his fingers on the desk, he was thinking, thinking very hard. The whole thing was a rather difficult conundrum. He rolled the smooth part of the quill he was holding back and forth between his fingers. ‘Come on, Gale,’ he thought to himself. ‘Think, think, think!’

“If you don’t stop doing that, I’m going to bite your fingers off!” Tara muttered from the other chair she had taken a seat in.

“Sorry,” Gale said, dropping the pen on the desk and leaning forward. “I just need to figure out what I should do next.”

“Is this concerning your conjuration work or a certain Miss Y/N?”

“Yes, it concerns her. I want to prove I’m worthy of her, that I won’t look at anyone else but her and she has nothing to worry about, I will devote myself to her entirely.”

“Hmm,” Tara said, rather scathingly he thought, as though he was in the habit of devoting himself to others entirely and that didn’t go well for him. “I don’t see why you’re so obsessed with the lady, if she has turned down your advances.”

“I just… she is… well… it’s complicated,” he said and the tressym gave a rather snooty sniff in response. “She’s lovely and kind and I like her.”

“Though certainly not the best in her class at most magic. Surely you should find someone who can match your ability?”

“No!” he cried, though raised his hands in appeasement when Tara gave him a stern look at his outcry. “I think she’s perfectly well gifted at magic, she wouldn’t be here otherwise. And besides, I’m not just going to look for someone who can match me perfectly. Otherwise I might as well court my simulacrum and I think that would be a bit odd even for me! I like her more than just the magic she can do.” 

“Well, my kind still believe that bringing some form of vanquished foe is the highest compliment one can bestow-” Tara said.

“I don’t think bringing her a dead pigeon or mouse is probably going to impress her much, it might have the opposite effect!”

Tara scowled, at least he thought she did. “I didn’t mean something like that! But perhaps she has some foe - a beast or hag or villain - in her life that you could vanquish, then bring her the head as proof.”

“Hmm, much as I appreciate the suggestion Tara, I’m not sure if bringing her a butchered head would go down well! I’m going to have a look in the library for ideas.”

Tara hopped up onto his bed, stretched out luxuriously and then settled down for a nap while he was gone. Gale gave her head a little scritch, which even though she let out a small yowl of contempt he could tell she still enjoyed it, and then he dashed out his room and down the corridor. There was no time to waste and he had already spent most of his day off pacing back and forth, going through all the usual romantic notions that would work. Flowers - bit cliche and predictable, plus probably not nearly enough of a gesture to convince you. Some item of jewellery or nice clothes or a magical item for a gift - it could work, but it felt a little transactional. Gale didn’t exactly want to buy your affection. A display of magic - While it might have impressed someone who was unfamiliar with the weave, you knew it very well and doubtless had created your own visions and wonders, so while he was sure you’d be polite about it, it likely wouldn’t impress you much! 

Perhaps he could find every book on romance and love in the library and peruse them all. There must be some story about an adventurer or paladin knight or some such person with a lady love who did not necessarily wish to be with him at first, but he had won her over with his valour and deeds and so on and so forth. He almost skid past the librarian’s desk who barely raised her eyes as he did, all too used to students dashing in and hunting around for a book when they had an assignment to complete. But Gale stopped by the desk and slammed his hands on it.

“I need every book on romance and love under the sun!” he said.

The librarian, a halfling with her grey hair neatly scraped back in a small bun, gave him a withering look. “Well a good many books in this hall deal with matters of the heart, Master Dekarios. It would take most of the day to find every single one.”

“Well… can you point me in the right direction at least!”

“I suppose the second aisle would be your best bet, it concerns courtly romances, most of them are fictional of course. Is this for a project, Master Dekarios?”

“Of sorts,” he said, already eager to head over to the second aisle and see if anything was of use.

“Why on earth are you wanting books on romance and love?” a voice behind him said and he whirled around to see Nira there, a few books tucked under her arm. Gale beamed. Ah! This was a bit of luck. Nira was your friend, a very good close friend to you. She would doubtless know exactly what was needed to persuade you. 

“Never mind!” he said to the librarian. “Thank you for your help!” He grabbed Nira’s free arm and practically dragged her from the library while she squawked and demanded to know where they were going. Once they were outside, away from prying ears and eyes, he released her. 

“What on earth has gotten into you?” Nira said.

“Your friend, Y/N.”

“What about her?” Nira asked, brow raised in suspicion.

“I… Well… I really, really like her and I said I would like to do more with her than… well just be someone she can call upon to see to her needs, that I wanted to be with her entirely and not see anyone else…”

“Wait, wait, wait, slow down. Am I understanding that you wanted to court Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“She didn’t tell me that!” Nira looked outraged.

“She said no that she didn’t want me to woo her at this time...”

“Oh… well I guess that just sucks for you then.”

“No, she said she’d think about it. That she’d think on me courting her.”

“Well then there’s your answer Gale, I still don’t see why I needed to be dragged out here…”

“Because I like her, so much, and I don’t want to wait around forever. What if someone else sweeps her off her feet?”

“Again, sucks to be you.”

“But you’re her friend, you could tell me what she likes, what would make a good impression, what declaration I could do-”

“Look, if you like her so much then you should already know what she likes and if you’re serious then stop having other girls come up to your room to enjoy your tongue. Otherwise, I don’t think there’s much you could do other than be respectful, polite and wait for her answer.”

“But I can’t just leave it to-”

“Gale,” Nira rounded on him, her brow furrowed with fury and her eyes glaring at him. “Look, the more you respect her wishes and back off a little, the more likely she is to consider you as a lover. But calm down, stop being so needy and wait for her to come to you! Gods above!” And with that she marched off down the corridor.

“At least put in a good word for me!” he called after her.

It was a strange few weeks for you, Gale had certainly been treating you differently. You felt his eyes upon you when you were in class, which made you feel flustered and distracted. But at least you could hide away in your room when you were working on essays or assignments, until the gifts started showing up. Little boxes of sweetmeats, an admittedly beautiful purple scarf with strands of silver running through it, an absurdly large bouquet of flowers with pink roses, frothy white queen anne’s lace and fuchsia carnations. 

And that was when others started to notice. Oh you’d had the occasional cruel comment, but you’d mostly gone ignored. Now though the whole school had picked up on you being the object of Gale’s desire and devotion, especially as apparently he’d stopped accepting the other girls’ invitations or offering himself to them. It had not made you popular!

“I don’t get it,” you once heard Lucia say as you were busy searching a bookshelf in the library for a particular book on selunite magic. “Why her? She’s so fat and dumpy and dull, and she barely says anything in class. I don’t get why Gale is so obsessed with her. Did you see the flowers he sent to her?”

You froze on the spot and felt your heart beating loudly in your chest, your hand was still holding a book as you both longed to run away from Lucia’s unkind words and yet could not compel your feet to move.

“I know. I heard it only happened when he ate her out. I’m surprised he even managed to find her pussy!” another girl whispered and the girls stifled their laughter in the quiet library. 

“I know, how did he get through all the gross folds to reach it!”

“Eww, stop it! I don’t want to think about that!” Lucia shrieked. 

Your hand trembled and you quietly pushed the book back on the shelf. You debated about trying to leave quietly, but then before you could even move one foot in front of the other, the girls had already rounded the shelves and came to a halt on seeing you. Some of them had the decency to look embarrassed, others giggled again, Lucia wrinkled up her nose.

“Oh look who it is! Maybe we can find the answers from the horse’s mouth. Or should that be pig’s?”

You quickly pulled the selunite book back from the shelf, determined to not let her pathetic bullying get under your skin. “If you don’t mind Lucia, I have work to be getting on with.”

“Oh we’ll leave you be, but first please explain why Gale Dekarios is so obsessed with you?”

You swallowed uncomfortably. Gods, you didn’t know why! It didn’t make much sense to you given you had told him you needed time to think it over and you weren’t sure about it. But now everyone at the academy had assumed you were a thing because of all the gifts! 

“I don’t know… you’d have to ask Gale.”

Her smile put you in mind of a harpy who had lured in its prey. “Like it doesn’t make any sense to me. We were wondering if he’s just joking, just messing with you or something. I think his friends would find it funny.”

Her clever little arrow found its target. You were sure he wouldn’t do something like that, would he? Was he and his friends laughing before they went to bed? Hysterical at the idea he was sending you all these little gifts and poems because it would be funny for you to think anyone would find you desirable. You remembered years ago when a group of boys had dared another kid to ask you out and how much they had laughed at your innocent, hopeful smile and how awful you felt, how you’d hidden yourself away to cry and how you had to pretend that it hadn’t hurt, that you could brush off a cruel joke like that. 

But Gale… could Gale do something like that? You remembered the way he was so sweet and gentle when he first kissed you, how Nira told you he’d never done that with anyone else, how much he looked at you with outright burning desire and surely he could not pretend to do that! How he had kissed you passionately when you saw him again, how he said he wanted you. A little whisper of desire danced through your blood and you could almost imagine his hands on you again, his lips on your throat… You shook your head, Gale was kind and good. He would never willingly hurt someone as a joke.

“Gale’s not like that,” you insisted. “He’d never do something so cruel.”

“Mm-hm,” Lucia said, it was playful, but her tone was still sharp, still malicious and she gave you a patronising little smirk. “Well if you think so!”

It was a culmination of things. A culmination of teasing and pointed remarks from people like Lucia, whispered comments and rumours from other classmates, Nira getting fed up of being hounded by Gale for advice and just everything felt overwhelming. The gifts had thankfully stopped after a very firm talking to from Nira, but you felt terrible for rejecting them and rejecting Gale.

“He’s a big boy,” Nira had said while she read Waterdeep’s local newspaper and lounged on your bed, while you tried to work at your desk. “He’ll get over it. I’m sure he’ll fuck someone else to heal his wounded heart!”

The idea that he might fuck someone else didn’t make you feel any better though. It felt like a jagged piece of ice had splintered your heart in two. You had considered it beforehand, but now your mind was made up and so you nervously stood outside Gale’s room, dreading the thought of knocking but also not wanting to leave without saying goodbye properly. You quickly knocked on the door and prayed to all the gods that he wasn’t in.

But the door was yanked open before you could even draw in your next breath and Gale stood there, his smile widening excitedly when he saw you. “Y/N! You’re here. I never thought… come in, come in!”

You stayed where you were though and saw the slightest flicker of disappointment in his soft brown eyes. Gods, that killed you. You looked away so you could get through what you had to say next.

“Um… Gale… I’m joining Professor Yinpeiros on their expedition to Neverwinter. I thought you should know rather than find out through someone else…” you tailed off when you caught a glimpse of how utterly disappointed he looked. You pressed your lips tightly together. “I’m really sorry, I do like you. I just…”

“If you like me, why are you leaving?” he asked, his voice breaking at the end of his question and you felt terrible.

“Because… this has all been so overwhelming. Your gifts, the attention everyone has given me, some people have been… cruel.”

“Who?” his voice darkened and you glanced up at him, seeing the anger blazing hot in his eyes and you were caught between flattery that he would be enraged if someone was nasty to you and a little bit fearful as to what he might do to them.

“It doesn’t matter. The point is, I’m going, for a year or two. So I wanted to do the decent thing and say goodbye.”

Gale’s face fell and he leaned heavily on the doorframe, his fist clenched tightly against the wood. “So I fucked up.”

“You didn’t fuck up, the gifts were beautiful, it just felt a bit… much to be given a lot of attention, both good and bad. I know you meant well.”

He inhaled deeply, then managed to look up and give you a grim smile. “Nira was right then, I should’ve just let you be and let you make your own decision on the matter. I’m sorry. I just… I care about you so much, I desire you so much, I lo-”

You pressed your fingers against his lips, stopping him from speaking. “Please don’t do that, don’t say that. You don’t Gale, not really.”

He opened his mouth, eyes bright with outrage and looking like he might argue with you, but instead he let out a sigh and carefully removed your hand from his lips. “I know what I feel, Y/N, but I won’t burden you with it anymore. I’m sorry. Would you… would you gift me with something before you go?”

You frown, puzzled by what he could have in mind. You don’t have much you can give him. Maybe a potted plant, but you had already promised them to Nira. “What is it?”

“Can I kiss you one last time?”

You hesitate. You should say no. Nira told you to make this quick and painless and easy. But it doesn’t feel like any of those things. Your heart feels like it has already shattered and you’re barely holding onto the pieces. “Yes,” you finally said.

He let go of the doorframe and gently cupped your face in his warm hands, his thumbs stroked your cheeks, his eyes watched you intently as though memorising every detail of your face. “You really are so beautiful,” he said, before he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to your lips. You closed your eyes, your hand met his on your face, and you felt his other one easily move down your back, curl around your waist and he brought you closer to him. 

Nira no doubt would be shaking her head in exasperation and giving you a withering look, and it would be all too easy to blame Gale for his tight hold on you, for his tongue slipping into your mouth, for the way his hands stroked down your back to your waist and hips and teasingly close to your butt but never actually land there, but you are breathing the same air and tasting his mouth too and have wrapped your arms around his shoulders, enjoying how surprisingly broad he is. It’s not a short, simple, sweet kiss goodbye. It’s a kiss lovers give to one another when they have all the time in the world and have the ability to crash into the bedroom, to tumble into bed and take pleasure in one another’s body.

When you break apart, he doesn’t let go. His arms are still wrapped around your waist, his forehead is pressed against yours, his eyes are closed, his lips parted, his cheeks flushed. He finally blinked open his eyes and smiled at you, a proper, soft, intimate smile that sends your heart racing and makes you want to stay.

“Would you…?” he stopped himself. “I want to ask you to come to my bed.”

You untangled yourself from him and pulled back. “No, Gale.” You took another step back. “But I will see you again, I’m sure. Goodbye, Gale.”

You turned around so he can’t see your eyes filled with tears and you hurried down the corridor, not wanting to linger and hear his own goodbye.

[ghostandsoap]

Someone Unexpected

John Price x Fem! “Peach” Reader

Tags: Price being a simp. Laswell being a queen.

Word Count: 2.3k

“I plan to be of good service to you, sir.”

It started as a suggestion to Captain Price.

At first, it was a gentle proposal that another member be added to his team. Price declined once, twice, three times. After his third refusal, the suggestion suddenly became a request…and then the request became a demand. 

Price fought it, and he fought it hard. He claimed that he didn’t need the manpower. He said that his force was just fine the way that it was. He stated that they didn’t need anyone else. 

But it seemed that the harder he protested, the faster he was losing the battle. 

John was promised that Kate Laswell would do all the work. She knew who to find, where to find them, and whether or not they were right for the position. Laswell knew Price, and she knew exactly what kind of person was going to meet his expectations…if not go beyond them.

John wasn’t having it. He grumbled and griped about it up until the moment that he sat down in Laswell’s office to discuss her choosing. He was rigid when he walked in, not even attempting to get comfortable when he sat down.

“Alright, Laswell. Who’s the lucky winner?” He groaned not, utterly miserable over the fact that he was going to have to give in to this.

“Come on now, John. That’s not very fair of you, is it?” She asked, furrowing her brows at him.

“I’m always fair,” He shrugged, shifting in the seat he was sitting in across from Laswell. “Am I so wrong for asking who you’ve so generously picked out for me?”

Kate didn’t see any sense in wasting time. She could sit here all day and stall, talking on and on to try and convince John not to be such a hardass about this. Although, Kate would be there forever if she attempted that, and Kate didn’t fancy spending her time trying to chip away at John’s stubborn nature. 

She reached into the top drawer in her desk, carefully retrieving a tan colored folder that was thick with papers on the inside. He had no doubt that they were organized and paper clipped into categories. He watched her open the front and quickly scan the first page before closing it again.

“Sergeant [L/N],” Laswell handed over a manila folder with all of the newbie’s personal information inside. “Confident, empathetic, and very intelligent.” 

“Empathetic?” John snorted. “Does he come with a bow in his hair?” 

“A little empathy wouldn’t kill you to have, Captain.” Kate fired back. “And she is as good as they come. I hand picked her myself.”

Price debated getting up and walking straight out.

Price knew that the world was different than when he was a rookie. More and more women were being employed and deployed to the military. He wasn’t against it per se, it was just that if he had the option, he would choose a man most of the time. In his experience, women tended to be less rough and could be totally unpredictable. Price couldn’t afford that.

“I need someone tougher than my usual pickings. I need someone that I can trust.” He argued with her. 

“You can trust her,” Kate said. “She’s valuable, John. She’s skilled in tactical training…both performing it and teaching it. She’s also advanced in first aid and field treatment.” 

That could be useful…

“Hm. What else can you tell me about her?” He went on, curious to know more.

“I’ve spent some time with her. She has quite the infectious personality, the kind that lights up a room when she walks in,” Kate said. “She knows when she’s the best in the room.”

So far, there wasn’t much that Kate had said that was selling Price on this woman. All he was hearing was that some innocent, happy-go-lucky gal was about to waltz her way into his team, expecting to run the show. 

Price couldn’t handle that. That was so far from what he needed.

“What do they call her?” He asked, wondering what kind of callsign was bestowed upon her.

Kate had a grin on her face, a certain expression that looked as if she were about to seal John Price’s fate.

“Peach.” She answered.

Price almost choked on his own saliva. Kate must’ve been kidding. She had to be kidding.

“Peach?” Price scoffed at such a girlish call sign.  “Why do they call her that?”

The smile on Kate’s face was genuine, but had a message behind it that let John know that he was letting his stubbornness shine through. Kate knew exactly the kind of person that would be right for Price’s force. There was no doubt in her mind that the woman she had in mind was perfect. 

“She has thick skin and is sweet as can be…” Kate beamed. “Not to mention, she’s a true southern lady.”

Oh no. No no no no. 

Price was biting his tongue. He had quite a few words to say about that. This had to be some kind of cruel, tasteless joke.

Not an American. Oh, God – anything but an American.

“Kate…” Price sighed in distress, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand. 

“John,” She held up her hand before he could say anything else. “One chance. I’m asking you to give her a chance. I wouldn’t have made this arrangement if I didn’t think she was right for your team.”

“And if she’s not?” Price returned.

“Then you can say ‘I told you so’. Just give her a chance. That’s all I’m asking,” She repeated. “She might surprise you.”

Doubt it. Nice try, Laswell.

Neither of them said much after that. Kate had said all she needed to, and she basically kicked John out of her office before he had a chance to share his thoughts. He walked out feeling defeated, as if he had no say or control over his force. 

He wasn’t hopeful. Sure, some of the assets and characteristics that Laswell had mentioned could be potentially useful. But Price had encountered potentially useful people in the past, and none of them turned out the way he wanted.

It was out of his hands now, and the least he could do was do exactly what Laswell had requested – give her a chance. 

But there was just no way that she was as good as Laswell said. Nobody could have it all. Nobody could impress Captain Price.

For now, all he could do was wait and see.

***

Today was the day.

Price was told that she would be coming in today to get situated before the mission they were heading out for the next morning. He was going with the flow at this point. He was just doing what Laswell told him to avoid getting yelled at. 

He was preparing to leave, considering that they were less than 24 hours out from heading to their mission’s destination. Not to mention, he was feeling a twinge of anxiousness to lay eyes on Laswell’s prized pick. 

He waited a good while before making his way to make his official introduction. He didn’t want to seem excited about it because he most surely wasn’t. 

When his stalling time was used up, he made the journey to the spare bunk room where she would be staying for the night. It wasn’t like she really had time to get settled because she would be packed up and off the next morning. 

Her back was towards him when he arrived at the open doorway. She was occupied with rummaging through her pack and she didn’t hear the man’s footsteps approach and stop at her door. He knocked on the frame of the door to make his presence known, which then grabbed her attention.

She turned around at the sound, eyes wide and glittering as she made eye contact with him. His blood ran cold and his muscles went tight all over. He was physically stunned, because she was not what he was expecting. He went to introduce himself, but she identified him and was on it first.

“Captain Price,” She greeted, her southern drawl dripping off each of her words as she reached her hand out to him. “I’m Sergeant [L/N]. But everybody calls me Peach.”

So I’ve heard.

His heart started to patter away in his chest when heard her accent. It was thick and clear, and it fit her like a glove. Her words were spoken with genuine respect and admiration for the man she was speaking to. He almost felt…honored to be spoken to by her.

She wore a smile on her face proudly. It was a glowing kind of look that could bring joy to anyone who witnessed it for themselves. She had a gentle look to her. She didn’t look mean or like she had been hardened by the world. But there was something lingering in her eyes, swimming in the depths of her pupils that let Captain Price know that she had a tough side. 

She was beautiful. There was no other way to say it. She was quite easy to look at. He had a hard time looking away from her, like she’d disappear right in front of him if he even dared to glance away. 

Her hand was still held out to him, a flicker of confusion flashing over her face. He realized then that he hadn’t said anything. He had only been staring at her and analyzing her mentally…and probably making her think he was off his rocker. 

“Sergeant,” He returned the greeting, reaching for her hand to shake it. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Her touch was addicting. The sensation shot up his arm and tingled through his body in a way that made him feel all kinds of fuzzy and warm. It made it hard to retract his hand, and it wasn’t until she practically snatched her hand back that the handshake was broken. 

“Laswell has told me a lot about you. She speaks very highly of you, sir.” 

Sir. 

It felt dirty hearing her say that. Then that made him feel dirty. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with himself all of a sudden. Maybe he was coming down with something…

Get it together, John. Not like you haven’t seen a pretty woman before.

“She seems to think highly of you as well,” Price cleared his throat. “Told me all about you.”

He smacked himself internally for saying it like that. The change in the look on her face was subtle, but enough to let him know that you were thinking that he was a total quack. 

“All good things I hope, sir.” 

His knees wobbled. 

“Certainly.” He nodded.

He suddenly realized that he was out of things to say. He had planned a whole list of questions to scope out what kind of valuable assets that she would be bringing to the table. Now, he couldn’t remember a single one of them. She didn’t seem to mind the silence, but he felt like millions of ants were crawling all over his skin.

I wonder what the rest think of her…

“Have you met Sergeant MacTavish?” Price voiced his question aloud without really meaning to.

“Soap? Yes sir,” She answered. “I’ve also been acquainted with Ghost and Gaz, Captain.”

She was quick. She hadn’t even been here three hours yet. Price was beginning to think that she was several steps ahead of him already. 

“Getting on with them then?” He asked, and her head tilted to the side.

“Sorry?” 

It occurred to him then that his vocabulary and hers were likely very different. Her accent and dialogue was alien to him, the same way that he assumed his was to her. 

“I mean are you getting along with them?” He chuckled. 

“Oh! We’re gettin’ along just fine,” She smiled sheepishly. “I plan to be of good service to you, sir.” 

He hoped so. He really hoped so. 

“Good. Are you all set to go in the morning?” 

Is it hot in here? It’s definitely just warm in here, right?

“Ready to go,” She smiled again, and he felt a sweat break out on his forehead. “Is there anything I can do for you, Captain?”

Oh, Christ.

He had to get out of there. He needed to go and take the coldest shower that he could stand. Maybe it would cool him off and slow his heart rate down. He was surprised at himself, because he wasn’t usually so…suggestive. 

“I don’t think so, Sergeant. You’re all set,” He withheld from wheezing out an exhale of a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “I look forward to seeing you, Peach.”

The name vibrated out of his throat and seemed to echo through the air. He liked saying it, and suddenly he was excited to get to say it more in the future. 

“Same to you, Captain.”

With that, Price turned on his heel and practically sprinted once he was out of earshot. That was unlike any first encounter he had ever experienced. No one had ever brought him to nearly crumbling like that. It was freaking him out, and he needed quiet time to calm down.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how unexpected this was. How unexpected she was. His hesitation was now more of a curious feeling. He was curious to know how she would do and what she was like in general. 

Something was different about her…but he didn’t quite know what it was yet.

Peach had a lot to prove to Captain Price. She knew it, and he knew it too. The good captain wasn’t totally sold on her just yet, but this first encounter was definitely dissolving some of his initial reservations. He could get used to having her around and having her in his life.

 Little did he know that she would become a much bigger part of it than he originally anticipated. And for that, he was forever thankful. 

Maybe someone unexpected wasn’t so bad after all.

[flemingsgirl]

Enough pt. 4

Finishing the two group stage games the Canadian team was back at zero points. But their journey is far from over. With another win against Columbia, they could advance to the quarter finals. The team keeps their hopes high, to counter the deduction and to make their fans proud.

Tension lingers in the stadium, the fans are engrossed in the game and on the edge, waiting for the important goal. Until the 61st minute the game was nerve wrecking, equal possession from each side, as well as shoots on the goal. A free kick from a position which bestowed the Canadian team several goals already. The linkup between Fleming and Gilles. Milliseconds before the ball hit the back of the net the fans leap up from their seats, arms thrown into the air, beer and other beverages hurtle through the air. Clasping their neighbour into one’s arms, shouting and cheering erupts in the stands. For the last thirty minutes not a single person sits down again. When the final whistle blows certainty and relief settles into the crowd as well as the players. The team hustles and embraces one another and shake hands with the opponent, praising their fight.

As the Canadians walk their lap around the stands Jessie’s eyes search the crowd for a special someone. Her face falls as she couldn’t find you anywhere; how so, you were an athlete as well, needing your practice and recovery. She puts the poker face on and steps over to the fans to take pictures or to sign autographs. The captain avoids eye contact with most of the people, only for pictures or to thank them for compliments. When she stops the next time, a child holds a jersey in front of her but that’s pushed into the background as a flirtatious and familiar voice fills the air. “Your smile is proof that the best things in life are free.”

When your eyes meet hers, you can see the breathtaking smile that adorns her face. She moves closer to the rail. “What are you doing here?” Jessie halts in her track fidgeting with the hem of her jersey, eyes avoiding your own. You lean over the rail and offer her an embrace. Jessie raises herself on the tiptoes to bring her arms around your figure. She takes deep breath and relaxes against your body.

Entangling yourself from Jessie to admire her, you shrug your shoulders. “Watching you play.”

Her eyes scan the surroundings, her lips twitch up and her hand rises towards you. As your hand rest in hers she intertwines them. As a response you present her a warm smile, eyes closed, and you squeeze her hand. “But what about your own?”

“On a short break.”

“Your knee?” you nod in agreement. “But why aren’t you with your team?”

“You did so well. Is your hamstring—"

“It’s alright. It twitched mostly overstretched but nothing a little break will heal. Tell meee.” She sways your hands back and forth.

“That sounds good. Appeasing. Off to the quarters.” You throw your other hand up and cheer, Jessie’s cheeks turn another reddish shape. “What a fate and how it turned out. You showed mentality, astonishing.”

“We’re a great team and a unit, pushing each other.”

Softly your thump caresses the skin of her hand, “Well without their captain they’d be lost,” you state firm.

Jessie rolls her eyes. “It’s a team effort and achievement.”

“Without your assist Gilles wouldn’t have scored.”

“Janine or Dri could’ve made that too.”

“Don’t play it down Jessie.” In a swift motion you try to release your hand from her but her grip on you gets tighter. “You can admit it sometimes.”

“I’m not that kind of player to take all the glory for myself.”

“But some doesn’t hurt anyone.” She grins cheesily, her eyes everywhere but not meeting yours.

Jessie clears her throat. “Will you wait for me?”

“Always.” She squeezes your hand before relinquishing the hold on your hand. You watch her take off into the direction of what you assume was her family. As you left the stands you don’t notice that Jessie turns around to glance at you, she crakes a smile and heat rise into her cheeks which still lingers on her face as she reached her parents and siblings.

Here you are again, waiting for Jessie by the exit of the player, fans gather around it wanting pictures or autographs. Your wait is brief when arms sling themselves from behind around your torso. “I thought about su—” you stop in tracks removing the arms from you. “You’re not Fleming,” you comment as you turn and face a beaming Janine Beckie. The woman has a fit of laughter, clutching her hands over her stomach. “Oh wow,” you roll your eyes as you huff, “let the war begin,” you rub your hand as Jessie comes into sight.

“I see you met Janine.”

Offering her the space between your arms the Canadian steps in them. “Yeah, was it her idea?” you feel how her fingers mess with the fabric of your shirt.

“Yes, absolute,” she chuckles nervously.

“I wouldn’t think you’d do that.” You break the embrace, but one arm remains on her shoulder. “Like I said before, I think we should get sushi.”

“I’d like that.”

“You didn’t tell me why you’re here and not with your team.”

You avoid her gaze, playing with the ring on your finger while biting the inside of your cheek. Jessie hands wanders over to yours and she rests it on top. “Avery suggested it…” you swallow hard. “Talking to our coaches maybe it’ll be the best for me. They were critical at first. Taxing me with letting the team down and so on. I told them how I feel, with your situation and the impact of my injury. They grasp the importance to be at your game and spent time with you.”

“This means a lot to me,” she squeezes your hand and brings it to her lips, kissing your knuckles. “I’m delighted to share those moments with you.”

Both of you inch closer to one another, mere centimetres separate you. “I could get lost in your eyes forever,” Jessie breathes into the air between you.

Closing the last space between you, you ghost your lips against hers before pulling back with a smug smirk. You could observe her chasing you desperately.

After seconds you mumble, “I’d invite you back to my flat but unfortunately I can’t and you’re not able to travel to Paris with me.”

“Make me.”

“Oh, I would.”

“Maybe I can invite you to my hotel room.”

“Of course.”

The two of you sit on Jessie’s bed. Your back pressed against the headboard as Jessie has her head rest in your lap. You run your fingers through her hair. Her hands play with your free one, fidgeting with the rings or drawing circles on your skin. “My parents have noticed...” Jessie pauses, turning in her spot, now glancing at you. “That my first point of call is someone else after the lap. Unintentional obvious.”

“Oh, is that bad?”

“No?” she furrows her brows. “I mean...” her hand reaches for the pendant on your necklace. “Is it for you?”

Your finger skim over her cheeks then her jaw. “It’s alright. What did they say?”

Something along the lines who’s she? And how long we’ve known each other. Like they just want to know who you are.”

“That’s valid. They care about you and are interested in your life and want to be a part of it. Your parents love you.”

Jessie spins the maple leaf between her thump and pointing finger. Her eyes settle on it as well, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. “What’s wrong?” you brush a lose strand of her brown hair behind her ear.

“What are we?” her voice fragile, just above a whisper.

“Jess.”

“Please Y/N.”

You cup her cheek, caressing the skin with your thump. “You know it.”

“I need you to say it. I want to hear it.” You lean down and Jessie tilts her head slightly upward, but you connect your lips to her forehead, then her cheek followed by her nose, lastly the wrinkle of her mouth. Her lips form a small smile, and her eyes remain closed.

“You wanna waist the first weeks of butterflies and excitement while being apart and barely available for one another?” the Canadian shrugs her shoulder her face falls to the opposite of your body. “Hey,” you place your hand on her cheek and turn her face back to you. “It means a lot to you right?” her eyes stare into yours as she slowly nods in agreement. You could see how her eyes start to get watery. Leaning into her you place your lips as gentle as a feather brushing against her. When your lips meet it's like sparks of electricity travel through your veins. Your breaths mixing. “Well then, I think we can make this work out,” you mumble against her, feeling her lips turn up

[sapphicdib]

Your cycle consumes itself. What have you become?

(ˡᵒʳᵉ ᵈᵘᵐᵖ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ ᶜᵘᵗ)

SO THIS IS MY INV VS SAINT AU!! It started as a shitpost and uh. Spiralled. Out of control. And now it’s genuine lol.

Enot and Saint are basically mortal enemies, and Saint needs to get Enot OUT OF THE CYCLES in order to continue his work, because this damn horny bastard won’t stop hunting him down…for some reason. Isn’t ascension the greatest gift you can bestow upon the creatures suffering in this barren wasteland? At least Saint thinks that. Inv, on the other hand, does not.

Enot stumbles upon Pebbles while passing through the silent construct, trying to find food one day. He takes a liking to this half-dead pink toaster, bringing him scraps of fabric as blankets and lanterns, and the best part…talking to him. Inv, somehow, can talk to iterators. And despite Pebbles’ very limited ability to reply, he does appreciate the company, and slowly the cycles become less agonizing. Pebbles has a friend. However, when Saint finds him, his immediate reaction is to attempt to ascend him—and he is tackled by a very angry slugcat, hissing and spitting at him in defence of its friend.

When Saint attempts to ascend him, he misses, just barely clipping Enot’s tail and glitching him half-out of reality. He then realizes, to his horror, that his karma seems to be draining. Whatever the hell this thing is, it’s dangerous, and Saint retreats to restore his karma (and heal some of the nasty wounds Enot gave him).

Inv turns back to see Pebbles, staring at him in pure fear, before he simply whispers out a “Thank…you…”. And that’s when Inv makes it his mission to save Pebbles (and everyone else) from Saint.

This leads to Inv running around the map, hot on Saint’s heels, trying to get any and all the iterators to figure out a way to get off their damn strings and LIVE again! Most of them are collapsed or semi-collapsed, so it’ll be an uphill battle, but when a glitchy, teleporting slugcat with the ability to speak tells you to do something…you’d be kinda inclined to do it.

Anyways the reason Enot can’t be ascended is because he is happy to give in to every single one of the great taboos. Wrath, Lust, Friendship, Gluttony, and Self Preservation. He revels in them. And if he can help the others experience them, and become happy with living again, they’ll be immune too! Also he is ridiculously OP to the point of him basically just having DevTools active because I think it’s Funny. He can glitch-teleport and drains the karma of beings around him. He also talks super casually and I think it’s funny.

A little bit of their dynamic hehe:

“Hey, pal!”

“I would like you to stop calling me that, please. You may call me the Saint.”

“Ahah. Not happening.”

“You are incredibly disrespectful.”

“Hey man, I’m not the one calling myself a saint but then running around killing shit and acting like it’s a good thing.”

“You use such vulgar words. I ascend beings, freeing them from the torment of these endless cycles. It is my purpose.”

“Even the ones who don’t want to go? Bro, you don’t even ask. The last robot you almost merked was screaming “no wait” at you, and you still think you’re in the right here? You’re not some kind of righteous saint, that’s called being a fuckin’ serial killer.”

“You do not understand what you are talking about!”

“Whoa, buddy! Are you gettin’ mad? Ain’t that…a lil taboo? PFFT look at your face!”

“I am not tolerating this any longer. Goodbye.”

That’s all I can think of rn! Send asks if you like!

[punkpandapatrixk]

[PPA Masterlist] [corresponding PAC]

🍯New Age Money ★ Concept Affirmations

🍯main character🍯

I am the main character of an exciting Life. It is MY Life. I live in a world surrounded by Kindness. I make my world exciting, joyful, and full of adventures. I have a sense of purpose. I learn and study all kinds of things that are interesting to me. I intend to be useful to my community and make the world a better place. I am unwavering in my pursuit. I meet helpful people. I meet kindhearted souls who are patient with me as I work out my place in this world. I belong in this world. People appreciate my effort and support my passion. I am appreciated for just being. I am the main character of an exciting Life!

🍯divine talents🍯

I am a divine being blessed with many talents. I was born to fulfil an exciting role. I have in me all that’s needed to fulfil my Destiny. I follow my heart to refine my skills. I have great discipline and develop myself accordingly. What I do is important. I am important. My dreams and daydreams show me where I need to go where I’m needed. I have complete faith in my abilities. I am the best at what I do. I am extraordinary and the most unique of them all. I am unshaken in the face of adversity. I learn from my mistakes. I grow myself with healthy self-esteem. I respect myself and my boundaries. Life is an exciting adventure where my divine talents are needed!

🍯Lyfe Purpose🍯

I step into my Life Purpose. I live an authentic Life. I am strong in my conviction. I don’t worry about a lack of support. I never worry about a lack of money. The Universe takes care of all of my basic needs. I am protected by my Higher Self. I am shielded from great harms by my team of Spirit Guides. I am supported by the Cosmos in my pursuit of realising my Life Purpose. My Life is all about learning and experiencing. I am secure and safe. I am able to rest peacefully when my body mind and soul need a recharge. I make beautiful memories with interesting people. I develop great friendships. I am of service. I am always taken care of.

🍯easy currency🍯

I easily monetise my divine talents. I am well-compensated for all the work that I do. I am appreciated for my honest passions. All of my income is positive. I am unaffected by the streams of negativity attached to my income. I easily transmute lingering negative aenergy attached to my income. I am happy with my income. I am grateful for my income. People are glad to pay for my products and services. People are happy with my products and services. People are grateful for my products and services. I receive generous amounts of income. I get a lot of gifts for any work well done. I live in ease and abundance. I am prosperous and generous.

🍯time management🍯

I have an abundance of Time. I have an abundance of aenergy to manage my tasks. I have all the time in the world to do what I want when I want. I work and study at my own pace. Time is on my side. Time is my friend. I am relaxed. I am at peace. I know everything is as it should be. I accept Divine Timing. I am not in a competition with Destiny. I’m never in a hurry. No task is ever an emergency. I manage my time masterfully. I enjoy my Life, here and now. I am always in alignment. I am on time. Time is my friend. Time is on my side. Time comes to my aid. I have an abundance of Time.

🍯unmatched luck🍯

I am a lucky being. I am blessed with good fortune. Everything turns out in my favour. I see God’s message in everything that unfolds before me. I believe in the benevolence of the abundant Universe. My faith is unmatched. I believe in myself. I trust my path. Lady Luck loves me. Lady Luck favours me. I am the world’s luckiest being. I easily manifest good fortunes. I am met with positive life experiences at every turn. I have the best luck in the world. My faith and my goodness are my strongest lucky charms. The Universe gladly bestows me with lucky opportunities. I manifest rare opportunities. I come on top. I win every competition. I am a lucky being. I have unmatched Luck!

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

[feligamifebruary]

Parisiens, Parisiennes, dragons and birds of all horizons,

Once again, Feligami February is just around the corner, and you may already be thinking of the wonderful creations you will bestow upon us throughout the month. It will be our pleasure to archive them on this blog, in case our timeline gets erased, and to answer your most burning questions below.

1. Tell me about the event!

As I’m sure you’ve guessed, Feligami February is a month-long fandom event dedicated to our favourite lovebirds. The principle is simple: to tickle your brains (and hearts!) with our prompts, so you are inspired to create the content you want to see on Tumblr on AO3.

When the time comes, simply upload your creation(s) to the #feligami february and #feligami february 2025 tags, and make sure to tag this blog: it will ensure we spot your work, as easily as Felix spotted the Peacock Miraculous under Gabriel’s tie.

2. What kinds of content/themes are welcome?

Any and all creative media are welcome: art, fics, AMVs, playlists, cosplays, moodboards, web weaves… as long as you do the creating yourself, and not through AI. The only thing we’ll be stealing this month is cursed jewellery.

While you are welcome to explore the themes of your choice, we reserve the right not to interact with smut and potentially triggering content based on our own comfort levels. Please make sure to tag your pieces appropriately to ensure the event remains fun and safe for everyone.

Poly ships are welcome, as long as they include Feligami of course!

3. I’m not sure I can cover all prompts/post on time. Can I still participate?

Of course! The entire point of this event is to have fun. Don’t overwork yourself.

4. I have an idea, but it doesn’t align with any of the prompts. Can I still post it?

Please do! The prompts are here for inspiration, not to suffocate you. Break your chains.

5. The creative process can be a bit lonely. Where can I meet other cool, motivated, brilliant Feligami creators like myself?

We have a Discord server, where you can hang out with fellow Feligami fans, share your ideas, and take a peek at the amazing content coming your way! Think of it as our own little window, on which we all draw hearts for each other.

If you’d like to join, please follow this link to the art room, where you will not be subjected to a creepy hallucination-based play.

Without further ado, we wish you all a lot of fun, inspiration, and bone-chilling musical numbers! 🎶

Full prompt list below! 🦚🐉

Week 1: Tropes 🪶

1. Once upon a time

2. Duel

3. Anti-hero

4. You & Me Against The World

5. Alternate Universe

6. Monster

7. Home

Week 2: Celebration 💎🌹

8. Diamonds

9. Flowers

10. First kiss

11. Reunion

12. Birthday

13. Family

14. Valentines

Week 3: Freedom 💍

15. FREE

16. Amok

17. Miraculous

18. Emotion

19. Pretension

20. Disobedience

21. Waltz

Week 4: Art 🎨

22. Watercolour

23. Stage fright

24. Representation

25. Journaling

26. Re-creation

27. A new world

28. Happy ending

[sisitrip]

"As Sweet and Soft"

Gallavich A.U.gust 2024

Smell her. She makes an event deadline on time lol.

For Gallavich A.U.gust @gallavichthings 'free week', I'm pulling out something a little different.

A/N and TW: The title of this story is a misnomer of sorts. This is a story that deals with themes of loss, regret, a retelling of an unaliving attempt, abandonment, and unburdening of harmful secrets. But, it also includes, above all, love of family, reconnection and the humorous ways we all try to overcome massive pain because there’s just no right way to do that. Here, there be comedy too (I hope) and moments so special (hoping again), I smiled the entire time I wrote it. 

So, lovely readers, the both of you lol, if the themes I mentioned will bring you harm in any way, feel free to skip this one and peruse other works that will keep you safe. Besides AO3, check out some other Tumblr accounts in the Gallavich fandom that might have offerings for you. This fandom is jammed with phenomenal creatives and I’m so happy they let me say “I go here.” 

With that, please enjoy "As Sweet and Soft."

--------------------------------

Ian walked him to the front and sat him down carefully as if settling a delicate piece of rice paper. With a kiss and a promise to be back after his ‘errand’, Ian left him alone and reeling.

Mickey sat in the loudest quiet he’s ever been unlucky enough to sit in. Churches, somehow more massive inside than out, always seem to bestow their attendees the power to hear the smallest sound; an apologetic peace offering for its chilly welcome.

Mickey flexed that bestowed power to catch a tiny sniffle. The scritch of nails on stockinged legs. A softly sobbed “42 is so young.” He hid behind this cataloging of sounds, all while wrinkling the most threadbare eulogy ever crafted. Panic rising, he stalled, cataloging absences too. His brothers were here, but his father was not. An aunt he’d never met was here, but Ian was not. 

His mother would never be anywhere again.  

“I’m sorry Mr. Milkovich, but we’ll need to get started. We have a wedding scheduled for later,” the priest murmured regretfully, having materialized like a ghost. He should be regretful. The celebration of death shouldn’t be rushed. 

At the lectern, he looked for Ian’s face in the small crowd, but he still wasn’t back. He needed Ian to keep the world from caving in. What errand could be more important than that? 

He smoothed out his speech on the polished, lemon scented wood. But, tears, fat and blinding, made it impossible to read. At sea, he crumpled the eulogy, struggling to articulate this tectonic cut into his life. He cleared his throat, blinking hard, and gave up on doing this justice. He’ll just do it his way.

“I don’t have a lifetime of memories with her to tell you about,” he began, talking to a pillar instead of the people watching him. 

“She left-” He swallowed hard. “She escaped when I was five. It wasn't as dramatic as that sounds. Her disappearance was actually kind of unremarkable, at first.” He gave a short, bitter laugh. “For something that rocked us hard, I somehow managed to miss it.”

He pressed his fingers into the wood, grounding himself. 

“It wasn’t until I hurt myself that it finally sank in. Like a lot of five year olds, I thought she’d feel it if I got hurt. Like physically feel my pain. Dumb, I know. But, she always used to magically appear to comfort me and bandage me up whenever I got hurt.”

He cleared his throat, fighting against the drain of tears building up. 

“When my cut went on bleeding and she didn't show up, I knew. I knew without a doubt that she wasn’t coming back. She couldn’t feel me anymore, I told my five year old self. So, I put a paper towel around the cut and I broke every toy car I had. That’s how I was able to let her go. I didn't know it would be harder to let her go this time.” 

A door opened somewhere and footsteps approached softly behind him. He refused to give the priest the benefit of his attention. He was almost done anyway.

“But, I didn’t let go of what I remembered about her. How she always smelled like dryer sheets and mercurochrome. How her blue eyes dilated to near black whenever she laughed too hard, which wasn’t often.”

He couldn’t see the pillar now and the soft sobbing from the attendees was wrecking his ability to get through this. He went on, nearly whispering as he fought his own sobs. 

“I didn’t let go of the memory of her sneaking up behind me, when I was drawing or coloring, and blowing kisses into the back of my neck to make me laugh. To make me feel like … somebody loved me.”

His eyes were streaming freely now and the pillar was a shapeless waterfall of gray. He doesn’t think he can finish. But, a small hand, bearing chipped, black nail polish squeezed his arm. 

Mandy. Beautiful, and here and here and here, filling the crater of his grief with her light and love. She gave him a curved smile through her tears. 

Weakened by surprise and gratitude, he leaned into her, pressing his forehead to hers. A pressing warmth on his other side was unmistakably Ian who held him up with an arm around his back. He could finish now. He could do anything. But, more than anything, he wanted to honor his mother. He took a deep breath.

“Like I said when I started, I don’t have a lifetime of memories to share with you about my mother. But, I have the ones I just told you about and I will treasure them until I die. When she could be m-my mother, she was everything.” 

He broke. His harsh, raw sobs escaped unchecked and the church saw fit to amplify them with heartbreaking clarity. Mandy and Ian pressed in close and helped him back to his seat where he couldn’t let go of their hands. Not even long enough to wipe his face of tears. Mandy took care of that. Face just as wet, she cleaned his cheeks without bothering to clean her own. That hadn’t changed in all the years they grew up together. Ian held his other hand between his own, sleeving it in safety and warmth.

The awful, anxiety ridden part is over. He did what he could to honor someone he’d lost a long time ago and he’s at peace with it. As at peace as anyone could be whose mother died. It’s a fitful kind of peace that settles uneasily like a misshapen shroud you never wanted to wear.

The rest of the service was quick and when Mandy inclined her head to the side door, he and Ian followed her, leaving the receiving line of strangers for the small, grassy graveyard out back. They sat amongst the sunshine and crooked tombstones, faces upturned to a cloudless sky the color of his mother’s eyes. 

“How’d you know?” he asked Mandy, taking in her shaggy black hair and pierced septum.

“Your hubby tracked me down a few days ago, bought me a ticket. Got me here to the church in record time.” She threw grass at Ian who just smiled softly at her. “He drives like a criminal.”

He caught Ian’s gaze, heart burning inside him. 

“Errand, huh?” he asked, chin trembling. He will never do anything better than marrying this man. 

Ian winked at him then turned to Mandy.

“You’re staying with us for a few days,” Ian said, cleaning grass off his pants. 

He and Mandy exchanged amused looks. Ian had used his “argue with me and find out” voice. 

“Eww, on the Westside? Do I need to get my shots before they let me in?” Mandy teased. 

Ian stood and yanked her to her feet with a smile. “No shots required for family,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His mother’s dark hair.

They laughed, easy and comfortable, as if no time had passed. He wished his mother could see this enduring friendship between his sister and the man she wouldn’t let him give up on. 

Ian and Mandy held out their hands to him and he squinted against the sun and their openly loving expressions, blinded by both. He’s going to remember this moment forever. His favorite people are smiling down at him and it was as sweet and soft as a kiss to the back of the neck. 

When he’s pulled to his feet, he can’t help the impulsive kiss to each of their cheeks, surprising them. He shrugs. It’s that kind of day. 

“You want to go to the repass?” Ian asked, arms around the both of them as they walk through the shrines of people who will keep his mother company. 

“No,” he said, looking at Mandy. “You?” 

She gave the graveyard a sad, final look. “No. Let’s just get out of here. We’re disturbing the sleepers.”

They found Iggy and Colin shuffling around in front of the church, looking uncomfortable in their ill fitting suits. He’d told them not to bother dressing up, and was touched that they hadn’t listened. When his brothers saw Mandy, they broke into twin grins. 

“Dickhead 1 and 2, what’s good?” Mandy called, grinning too. Before they answered, she dropped her purse and took a run at them, arms wide. If there was anything good to be had from this awful day, it was his brothers happiness at seeing their sister. 

Iggy and Colin caught her and lifted her between them in a hug that at first was full of smiles then descended into tears. Mandy wiped their faces with the sleeve of her jacket and they touched her hair, trying to smile through their tears. Another moment as sweet and soft as a kiss to the back of the neck.

“What’s this shag shit?” Iggy husked as she cleaned his face.  

“Wolf cut. Easier to take care of.” Mandy cleaned Colin’s face next as he flipped a hank of her hair. 

“Call it whatever you want. It’s a mullet,” Colin said fondly while very gently cleaning her face with his tie and pressing a kiss into her cheek. “You look butch. I like it.”

“Ian,” Mandy called, smiling at Colin. “Can I bring these two weepy little bitches?” 

Ian picked up Mandy’s bag and looked at him with a soft, questioning smile. He shrugged. It would feel good to have his siblings in the house tonight. 

“Alright, listen up. Anyone of you fart, and I mean one damn fart, and everybody is getting kicked out except Mickey and Mandy,” Ian warned with a smile, linking hands with him. 

At their place, Colin ordered a ton of UberEats from every restaurant within a mile and they got comfortable down to their t-shirts and boxers. He knows the circumstances are different, but it felt like it did when Terry left for long stretches and they’d buy fast food with the money they pooled together. It’s how they celebrated the gift of peaceful days and no fresh bruises.

He smiled when Mandy padded out of their bathroom wearing one of Ian’s shirts, looking adorable and small. With a burger in her mouth, she whipped out a bottle of black nail polish and shook it while eyeing her brothers meaningfully. He knows what’s coming and her habit, born out of a need to self soothe, is exactly what they need.

He and his brothers took off their socks and while they ate, laughed and drank, Mandy painted their toes. It broke his heart a little to see her shoulders relax with each painted toe, a reminder of how she used to cope.

Ian bounced questioning eyebrows at him while Mandy painted Iggy’s toes.

“Mandy would paint our toes when she was upset,” he explained. “Been doing it since she was like what, Col?

“Four?” Colin answered. 

“Three,” Iggy chimed in, pointing a drumstick at Mandy. “I had more paint in between my toes than my actual fucking toenails.”

Mandy threw a french fry at him.

“Better than what you got between your goblin toes now. Was that dryer lint in there?” she asked, moving on to start on Colin’s toes.

“Could be. Or it could be cat hair. I like the mystery.” Iggy wiggled his now black-painted toenails. “Speaking of mystery, what’s up with your bare toes? Never saw you go one day without painted toes when you were home.”

Mandy smiled. “Stopped needing to do it. That should tell you something about my level of peace, yeah?” She started painting Mickey’s toes next. “Who wants to play Dead Body?” 

Ian swallowed his bite of cheeseburger, eyes popped wide. “Dead body?” he parroted weakly.

“Yeah. When we were little, we used to compare the times we all saw a dead body,” Iggy said, eating a slice of pizza. 

“You did this, why?” Ian asked. 

“Because, it was better than comparing bruises,” Mickey murmured, forking into his burrito bowl, toenails painted coffin black now. He doesn’t hate it.

Ian gave him such a soft, sad look, Colin scoffed.

“Of all the brutal shit we endured, seeing a dead body was like getting hit in the face with a pillow. Don’t sweat it, Ian,” Colin dismissed. “I’m going first. Mattara, alley. Gut stuck.”

“My turn,” Iggy said. “Lipotzik, train tracks. Froze to death. They had to crack his ass in half.”

“Don’t know her name,” Mandy said, “But, the girl who OD’d in the massage parlor. I saw them taking her out.”

He wasn’t going to join this game, especially because he’d never told anyone about it. But, now that his mother was truly gone, it didn’t feel like telling someone else’s secret. Not anymore.

“I saw Mom dead once. I mean before this time. She died twice.” 

His quiet comment silenced the room. Poor Ian. His face crumpled when he realized that Mickey wasn’t joking. 

“What are you talking about?” Mandy asked, sticking the nail polish brush back in the bottle. 

He looked at his painted toes while he spoke. 

“I got up one night. Had to pee real bad. I used to hold it because even a toilet flushing would set off Terry if he was trying to outsleep a hangover.”

Mandy scooted closer. Iggy and Colin did the same, food forgotten. He went on, speaking from a place of surreal memory. 

“I couldn’t hold it though, so I went into the bathroom. The first thing I saw were her feet. They were pruney and blue looking. Wet too. She was all wet.”

Ian got up and sat behind him, tucking him into the vee of his legs. 

“She wasn’t moving and Terry was kissing her. Or, I thought it was kissing at the time. I realized later he was giving her, you know, mouth to mouth or whatever. See, he’d … he’d pulled her out of the tub where she’d drowned herself.” 

Of all the heavy things he’d wanted to lay to rest today, this secret had to be heaviest.

“Terry kept giving her mouth-to-mouth. He didn’t even notice me standing there. I … I pissed myself when I saw her face.” He inhaled shakily. “Her eyes were open and she wasn’t blinking. She was just … blue.”

Colin and Iggy exchanged grim looks, but said nothing. 

“I must’ve said something. Maybe called her name. Terry kept pressing on her chest and snarled at me to get out. I couldn’t leave so I kind of squatted down and grabbed her cold foot thinking I could help him. Maybe help her.” 

Ian entwined his arms around his waist, and leaned him back into his chest while he finished in a rush, wanting it out and over. 

“She eventually blinked, coughed up a shit ton of water and started breathing again. She saw me and the first thing she did was shove Terry away, told him to get out. When he did, she put me in the same water that she’d drowned herself in, crying the entire time she washed me. Later, Terry told me if I said anything about what happened, everyone would know it was my fault. I knew that wasn’t true, but it felt like it was. At the time. Eventually I didn’t have to say anything because she left a month after that.”

He didn’t cry with the memory. Maybe because it hadn’t felt like a memory at all. It was more like a dream. Blue, cold and unreal in all its horrible detail. 

Colin broke the hold the memory had on him. “Christ, if I could bring Terry back to beat him to death, I would.” 

Iggy took an emotional swig of the Jack Daniels he was clutching, face red and working. “Me first, you second. That fucking fuck.” 

Mandy tossed back the rest of her wine. “Me first and the two of you can hold him.” 

“I’m calling the roster,” Ian interrupted, squeezing Mickey tight. “Mickey gets the first punch, then Iggy and Colin can hold him after they’re done so Mandy can kick him in those two shriveled things he used to call his nuts.” Ian gave his temple a hard kiss. “Me last so I can be the one to wiggle my big, gay dick at him in farewell.”

His brothers and sister held their silence for a single beat before falling into wild laughter. But, instead of laughing himself, he gave Ian a soft, sad kiss of understanding. Ian looked a little pale despite his effort to joke. The story had affected him too. He can see it in the tightness around Ian’s eyes. His story was one of the horrible things they had in common - children of mothers who got a second chance after giving up completely, but who had to leave their children to survive.

“You okay?” he asked Ian, cupping his face. “I probably shouldn’t have brought that up. I wasn’t trying to trigger whatev-” 

Ian pulled him closer and kissed his forehead, his eyes and his mouth last. 

“There. That worry right there. That’s how I know I couldn’t have picked a better husband.” Ian kissed his nose. “I’m good, baby.”

The Milkovich siblings watched this exchange silently, but exploded into gagging noises when Mickey kissed Ian three times in succession, surprising him. Again, today was that kind of day.

“Death makes both of you literal pussies,” Iggy said, laying down to put his head on Mandy’s lap.

“Seeing as how all you do is chase and admire pussy, what you’re really saying is that you want what they have,” Mandy retorted, bouncing Iggy’s head. 

Iggy opened his mouth to argue, but shrugged instead and settled for stealing a fry off Mandy’s plate.

“He definitely wants what they got. But, it takes him twice as long to chase pussy, and when he finally gets some, he’s in that shit for like a minute,” Colin said, slapping Iggy’s foot. “One minute, motherfucker.”

That’s all it takes. Iggy’s up and wrestling Colin while Mandy laughs and picks up her wine to avoid its destruction. Ian calls out a foul hold every now and then, tucking Mickey into his chest to avoid the wild foot swings. 

He smiled, watching it all from the safety of Ian’s arms. This wasn’t a repass that anyone would find dignified and he doesn’t give a shit. This was healing. As healing as any monotone gathering where cookie cutter condolences just made you feel oily and ill at ease.

This was what his mother would’ve wanted. Food, laughter. Love. No eulogy could've honored her more than this.

They stayed up late enough to finish the booze and food. Mandy claimed the couch and the boys curled up on the armchair and floor in front of the fireplace. He checked on them a few times before letting himself be pulled to bed where he lay, eyes hot and unblinking. 

The story he’d told had shaken something loose inside him that he couldn’t quite knit back together. His mother was gone for real. No pruney toes. No gout of coughed up water. No tears as she cleaned him in the water of her death.

She was gone.

Ian settled close to him, and the small lump in his throat became a boulder. It forced him to cry to alleviate the pressure, or so he told his cowardly soul. His tears turned into sniffling. Soft sobs, helplessly cried into Ian’s chest, followed. The quiet crying became harsh barks of pain and he curled into Ian trying to escape it all. Ian took him in his arms and cupped the back of his head to murmur nonsensical sounds of comfort. If only it was as simple as that. Soft words and a firm hug to clear away the pain. God, he wished it was that easy.

A soft knock on their bedroom door preceded Mandy padding in. His crying must’ve called her. It always did. Even when it meant she might catch a beating, Mandy always slipped into his bed  and hugged him until he stopped crying.

She did the same thing now, climbing over Ian to lay on his other side. She put an arm around his waist and he cried harder. For her, for his mother. For all of them.

Another soft knock. Iggy and Colin padded in with pillows and blankets. They settled down on the floor on either side of the bed without saying a word. Ian, God bless him, just smiled into his hair and gave him a squeeze, letting him know it was alright. 

After everyone settled down, the room was quiet and filled with the blue-tinged light of the moon and their collective breathing. 

“I think it goes without saying that we expect y’all not to fuck while we’re in here,” Colin said quietly from the floor. 

Iggy snorted from the other side of the bed. Soon, they were all laughing. 

Ian leaned over, kissed Mandy on the cheek, leaned down over her to slap Iggy on the chest then leaned all the way back to slap Colin on the top of his head. When he settled back down, he gave Mickey the softest, sweetest kiss. It was exactly what he needed. This closeness is what they all needed. 

As he started to fall into sleep, a gentle, almost melodic fart rang out. The bed shook as he, Ian and Mandy struggled not to be the first to laugh aloud.

“I can still stay, right Ian?” Iggy whispered from the floor, his plea a confession. 

They all dissolved into giggles, hissed softly between teeth. It was cleansing, this infantile humor. It was also a way for motherless children to find comfort and laughter in the dark.

“Yeah,” Ian said, breathing soft laughter into Mickey’s hair. “You can stay.”

He hid his face in Ian’s neck to let the warm pulse there soothe him towards sleep. He faded to the sound of the occasional laugh from his family, glad he was surrounded by the people who love him. 

And he can’t be sure, but just as he made his final descent into sleep, he felt something that eased his pain enough for him to sink into unconsciousness. 

A kiss, soft and sweet, pressed into the back of his neck.