#and assorted supporting cast

[damiemontclair]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī, Lán Jǐngyí, Jīn Líng | Jīn Rúlán Additional Tags: Drinking, Accidental Drinking, Drunkenness, in LWJs defence it wasn't his fault, Jealousy, Sort Of, the juniors are mostly background in this, they are ~shocked~ XD Series: Part 9 of Damie's MXTX-tober 2023 Summary:

Day 9: Intoxicated & Colour – WangXian feat. the family

In the rush that followed the arrival of their food, Lan Wangji had failed to account for the possibility that Wei Wuxian might have mixed up their cups.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

omgg lol [guy who won't stop going "more like scapeGOATED" voice] now hold! on!! lmao [same guy just saw encanto voice] Hold on!!!

[world0fmadness]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ✩ ˚ HORROR FLICKS ARE THE BEST CHICK FLICKS

max verstappen x horror nepo baby! zombie! reader

featuring: lots of love from lewis because ever since i saw that picture of him wearing a cannibal holocaust t-shirt i’ve been convinced he fucking loves horror movies and lando being annoying in a friendly way

faceclaim: assorted but mainly sherri moon zombie

୨୧ max won the vote so here you go! there are some inaccuracies like rob zombie didn’t make the silent hill film, house of 1000 corpses came out in 2003 and stuff but hey, it’s fanfic, let me live <3

reading music recommendations: living dead girl by rob zombie - house of 1000 corpses by rob zombie - what? by rob zombie

ynzombie: throwback to when little me was in my first ever horror movie ( and movie in general ) dad had me doing child labour for free because i’m his daughter… so sad 💔

robzombie ✔️: little liar, i paid you with candy and put money into your pre adult account 🖤

❤️ liked by ynzombie

maxverstappen ✔️: you were adorable liefde ❤️ though how you were in movies like this so young, i don’t know…

> ynzombie ✔️: thank you maxie moo <3 the horror love just runs in my love babe, you know that

ynlnhorrorqueen: a horror icon was born the day this movie came out…

> zombiesloveynzombie: a horror icon was born the day the world knew she existed lmao 😭

landonorris ✔️: you were a funny looking kid

> ynzombie ✔️: get the fuck OUT of here oh my god 😭 i genuinely might get my dad to cast someone who looks like you as a victim in his next film (spoiler alert: you will NOT be a final girl, you’ll be the dumbass who falls over a pinecone and gets decapitated)

❤️ liked by maxverstappen

> landonorris ✔️: 😟

lewishamilton ✔️: fucking hell… i saw this when it first came out! and you were a baby then and you’re a grown up now… feel well old now! so nice seeing how far you’ve come love ❤️

> ynzombie ✔️: you are old, practically a fossil at this point! thank you lewis

ynzombie: house of 1000 corpses came out in theatres yesterday… did you guys love it? i know i fucking LOVED filming it and my dad LOVED making it ❤️

lewishamilton ✔️: loved it! incredible work yn, definitely a new favourite

> ynzombie: thank you lewis! i NEED to bring you on set next time

❤️ liked by lewishamilton

robzombie ✔️: no cursing

> ynzombie ✔️: i… dad have you seen the i do in your movies? i think you should be okay with cursing 😭

> robzombie ✔️: i’m kidding honey, curse all you want, you’re sure as shit old enough

zombiesloveynzombie: this movie… oh my god! yn zombie you should be imprisoned for making me obsessed with a character like baby firefly…

❤️ liked by maxverstappen

> maxverstrapon: max liking this comment lmao? sir can you even watch this movie?

> iluvf1: let him be 😭 he’s just supporting his gf

maxverstappen ✔️: so proud of you liefde ❤️

> ynzombie ✔️: i’m so proud of YOU for sitting through it without gagging at a nasty scene <3

> maxverstappen ✔️: i try, for you

❤️ liked by ynzombie

ynzombiehorrorqueen: i love how since yn was born and old enough, rob has basically never made any project without her being in it 🥺 he loves his daughter so much

landonorris ✔️: you’re a funny looking adult too actually…

> ynzombie ✔️: hope you die

> landonorris ✔️: maxverstappen come get yn she’s acting crazy again

> maxverstappen ✔️: i’m on her side this time, sorry mate

> landonorris ✔️: “ this time ” you’re ALWAYS on her side, she could skin me alive and roast me over a fire right in front of you and you’d be on her side

> maxverstappen ✔️: sounds like a you problem

❤️ liked by ynzombie

ynzombie: finally took max to meet daddy dearest! he only sat in the car shaking for about 20 minutes ❣️

robzombie ✔️: he’s an alright kid, your mother loved the flowers, bring him around again soon hon 🖤

> ynzombie ✔️: for sure <3

danielricciardio ✔️: how’d you get him out of the redbull gear?

> ynzombie ✔️: told him my dad HATES redbull

> zombiesloveynzombie: LMAO 😭

maxverstrapon: bringing her mom flowers, helping her mom in the kitchen, opening the wine, wearing something not redbull related… this man wants to be parent approved SO BAD LMAO

maxverstappen ✔️: it wasn’t so bad, thank you for convincing me to come liefde ❤️

❤️ liked by robzombie and ynzombie

> ynzombie ✔️: i’m just glad you were comfortable maxie ❤️ love you lots

> iluvyn: she needed to convince him to come? omg…

> oldf1lvr: to be fair if my girlfriends dad was a horror director and i knew nothing about horror and could barely even sit through them i’d be pretty scared too 😭

> iluvf1: not to mention that her dad is just ROB FUCKING ZOMBIE? how was he not supposed to be scared? lmao

ynzombie: sneak peek at mine and my dad’s new project! won’t be out for a while but i wanted to feed you guys ❤️

lewishamilton ✔️: can’t wait for this one yn! looks great already

> ynzombie ✔️: can’t wait to hear what you think when you see the full thing :D

❤️ liked by lewishamilton

> iluvf1: yn and lewis’ friendship will never not be adorable to me, they’re so close 🥹

> loveuyn: i mean, he LOVES all of her dads movies so it makes sense that they really easily befriended each other when max brought her to the grid for the first time

zombiesloveynzombie: yn playing another psycho ass bitch that i’m going to be obsessed with… I CANT WAIT

❤️ liked by maxverstrappen

maxverstappen ✔️: i think this one might be my favourite…

> ynzombie ✔️: because i kill characters who wanted to fuck my character?

> maxverstappen ✔️: yes :)

> maxverstrapon: max sitting through his girlfriends movies despite hating horror will always be SO CUTE to me, he lovesss her

maxverstappen: she’s a 10 but she’s got a bit of a big ego ( she’s rewatching all of her own movies ) ❤️

ynzombie ✔️: hm… okay then

> loveuyn: max is so going to regret saying this… i just know it, we all know how petty yn can get, even over a joke lmao 😭

❤️ liked by ynzombie

landonorris ✔️: 🫣

lewishamilton ✔️: oh mate…

> maxverstappen ✔️: what? what’s happening? what have i done?

danielricciardo ✔️: 😶

ynzombie: according to my lovely boyfriend, i have a large ego… i don’t know guys… anyways here’s some pictures from our weekend ❤️

maxverstappen ✔️: yn i’m begging you delete that first picture before your father sees it

> ynzombie ✔️: this is what you get for saying i had a big ego

> maxverstappen ✔️: i was KIDDING, liefde, please i beg you, delete

> ynzombie ✔️: i’m not deleting it

robzombie ✔️: yn, hon, would you ask your boyfriend to go into another room and call me? 🖤

> ynzombie ✔️: sure will dad!

> lewishamilton ✔️: maxverstappen good luck mate 👍

❤️ liked by ynzombie

maxverstrapon: the picture of him helping her clean the fake blood out of her hair… i want what they have 💔

> iluvf1: max is about to face the wrath of a father and you’re talking about that???

> maxverstrapon: ITS A CUTE PICTURE 😭

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧ ˚ NEW ADDED BONUS ˚ ୨୧ ⋆｡˚ ⋆

the aftermath of a call from a concerned father

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Don't Kill My Vibe

Title: Don’t Kill My Vibe

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.

Warnings: mention of a breakup, recreational drug use (marijuana), friends-to-lovers trope, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids

A/N: This is an AU where Clark Kent is not superpowered and Superman does not exist. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

It wasn’t the first time Clark asked to try some bud, but it was the most pathetic. His gorgeous blue eyes were puffy from crying over that woman. As much as you wanted to say, “I told you so," you didn’t want him to feel any worse about the failed relationship with his reporter beau, Lois Lane.

And yet again, you think to yourself, ‘Fuck Lois Lane’.

When he showed up at your place an hour ago in sweatpants, sneakers, and a button-up pullover, you were surprised to see he opted for something other than his normal flannel and jeans. His hair was mussed, and he avoided eye contact with you. Something was wrong.

You dragged him into your apartment, turning down your Spotify playlist on the Bluetooth speakers so you could talk over the mellow tunes. While you flopped down on your couch, Clark sat down slowly and sighed.

You were already elevated, having taken a couple of puffs from your blue and red glass bowl earlier, so you were struggling to pay attention to everything he was saying. You tried to put on your “I’m not high” face and nod enough, saying “Oh wow” occasionally. But, in actuality, your eyes were as red as the Devil’s dick, and Clark wasn’t stupid.

His eyes looked from yours to the tray on the coffee table that held your various assortments of smoking apparatus, grinder, lighter, and stash box. Leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, he motioned his chin toward everything and said, “I know you’ve said no a million times, but I could use an escape. And before you say no again, know I’ve tried all the tricks in the book to get over somebody, and nothing is working.” 

“I have a feeling there’s another thing you haven’t tried either, but whatever,” you rattled on, waving off his confused expression. “Fine. It should be illegal for you to use those puppy eyes when asking me for something, by the way.”

So here you are, preparing a strawberry cone for you and Clark to share. You were always weird about people using your favorite bowl. You also figure that for a first-timer, it would be the easiest for him to start with. Twisting the end after filling the cone, you reach for the lighter and ashtray.

“First things first,” you purr, using your phone to turn the music up. “Now, watch what I do. I’m going to draw the smoke into my mouth and then hold it for a few seconds, or as long as I can, before blowing it back out. Ready?”

Clark nods as he turns toward you, tucking one leg under the other. Now that you have his full attention, you suddenly feel flustered. Casting your eyes downward, you take the cone into your mouth and light the end. You inhale deeply and take it out of your mouth. Savoring the citrus flavor of the strain, your tongue licks your lips, and you exhale. 

You close your eyes and take a few breaths. After a moment, you hear Clark’s voice breaking through your haze: “Everything good?”

Your eyes pop open, and just like nothing happened, you perk up. Handing him the cone, you blink as he holds it like someone who has never smoked. You’ve known Clark long enough that you have a suspicion that is probably true for him. 

He’s polite, almost to a fault. He screams Boy Scout, altar boy, and ‘promise ring’ all at the same time. What can you say? Clark was a good boy. And you were getting him high. You little devil! 

Clark takes a short pull from the pink-colored joint and manages to hold it for about two seconds, then attempts to exhale. A small plume escapes his mouth, he inhales sharply and has a coughing fit. You take the joint back before he drops it and sit it in the ashtray.

Rubbing his back, you try to talk him through catching his breath. You grab your water bottle and hold the straw to his mouth when he nods his thanks. He sips the water, then clears his throat loudly, burping up a bit of smoke. He laughs quickly as he sees it exit his mouth, reminding you of a little surprised dragon.

“That was fun,” he sputters, his voice deeper than usual.

“It gets easier, Clark. Trust me, coughing is normal. And most of the time, coughing gets you higher,” you laugh, picking up the joint to take another hit.

You inhale, exhaling into the air, and hold it out for Clark to take again. He sips from your water bottle and gives it to you in exchange for the joint.

Holding it between two fingers, he brings it to his lips. You watch his mouth curl around the tip, and your brain conjures up the vision of what else that boy’s mouth can do. He takes the joint out of his mouth, holding his breath for a few seconds, then blows it out slowly. He gives it back to you and leans back against the couch.

“I don’t think I feel any different yet. How long does it take to kick in?” he asks, crossing his arms and pouting.

It being his first time, he is completely unaware that he is already high. His body language is different; Clark Kent doesn’t slouch even a little. He also certainly doesn’t fidget; his hands suddenly become very interested in the material of his pullover.

“You’ll feel it sooner than you think,” you mumble, the joint between your lips as you speak.

Twenty minutes later, Clark tells you exactly what the last straw was that ended his relationship with Lois. He pauses to take a hit, handing it back to you as he exhales. “But it was always whatever she wanted. I treat her like a queen. And she goes and blows Jimmy-fucking-Olsen. Then she lies about it after Jimmy comes clean to me. I…,” he trails off, looking over at you and shaking his head as he laughs.

“What?” you question when you realize he stops talking.

“Nothing. I just… I think I’m high,” he giggles, the corners of his eyes wrinkling when he smiles at you.

“Besides being high, can you describe how you feel?” You press, wanting to know just how high he is.

“I feel lighter. Clear…er? Is it clearer or more clear? Whatever. I think I also just figured out how I want to finish that article on The Wayne Foundation,” he explains, leaning back so he is lying on his back with his head on your lap. “Is this ok? Your lap looked so comfortable,” he wonders aloud, looking up at you.

That’s when you realize three fundamental truths at the same time. 

1. Clark is single. 

2. Clark is literally in your lap.

3. The crush you have on Clark is swiftly turning into lustful infatuation.

Bringing yourself back to the present, you smile at him and say, “Yeah, of course it’s ok.” You focus on the heat radiating from your best friend as he makes himself comfortable so close to your thirsty pussy. 

“You are the best,” he replies, closing his eyes as your hand finds its way into his curls.

“This cool?” you dare, hoping that you can continue to push the boundary between friendship and something more.

As if the groan from the back of his throat wasn’t enough, he voices his satisfaction. “More than cool. I love having my hair played with. Feel free to go to town on me.”

Oh, the importance of phrasing.

This man is not going to make it easy on you.

You’re explaining to Clark about that episode of Bob’s Burgers where Bob and Linda accidentally get high after eating cookies laced with marijuana at their accountant’s office. “So, anyway. Bob, Linda, and the accountant build a pillow fort from the cushions on his couch, and somehow it makes them feel safer which I get because pillow forts were the height of safety when we were kids. And sometimes, people feel safer thinking about the simplicity of their childhood,” you rattle on, leaning forward to grab your water bottle and forgetting about Clark’s head, which is still very much in your lap.

An oomph is spoken into your boobs, and you shoot straight up to a standing position and knock Clark off your lap and onto the floor. 

“Shit!” he cries from his spot on the floor.

“Fuck, Clark! I’m so sorry! Are you ok?” You cringe, your hand touching your forehead as you watch him pull himself up.

“Hey, hey. It’s cool, I’m fine,” he reassures, his hand grabbing yours to take it away from your face. With the other hand, he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Tilting your head up, he smiles and counters, “Are you ok?”

Yeah. Fine. My tits were just thrust into your face for a bit there. Oh, and you have no idea that I like you. And that pesky curl is falling into your pretty eyes again. And your handsome face is close enough to-

One second, you’re staring at his smile; the next second, you’re attacking his mouth with yours. His lips are just as pillowy and soft as they look. At first, the kiss is timid. Surprise gives way to need as he deepens the kiss. His tongue seeks solace as it slides against the seam of your lips. Granting him entry, he licks into your mouth like an explorer discovering new lands. 

His hands find their way to your hips, bringing you impossibly close. He feasts on every whimper that leaves you, peppering in some moans of his own. This is the kiss of a man waiting for a moment like this. At least, that’s how it feels.

Begrudgingly, you slowly break away from Clark. His kiss-swollen pink lips beg to be reunited with yours, but you must prove this is real. You look up into his dilated eyes, noting how blue is almost completely taken over by black. 

You open your mouth to speak, but Clark beats you to it.

“Unless you are about to tell me you don’t want this, please just kiss me again,” he breathes, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t know what’s more intoxicating. This drug or having you so close to me.”

Instead of worrying about what this means, you throw caution to the wind. Tilting your head, you slot your lips with his, devouring the subtle whimper that escapes him. From nervous to commanding, you feel Clark’s demeanor change as his hands wander over your body.

He picks you up by the waist, your legs instinctually wrapping around him. With you in his arms, he walks blindly to your bedroom. Once he lays you down, he covers your body with his. The hard length against your mound gives you pause, but you quickly recover as you angle your hips to meet his.

Clark breaks the kiss to sit up and remove his pullover and shirt. A pink hue dusts his cheeks as he watches you scan his torso while you bite your lip. Leaning down, he tugs at the hem of your shirt, wanting you to get rid of it. 

You oblige, now topless in front of your best friend for the first time. You don’t have time to freak out over that information because Clark hooks his fingers in your leggings, his eyes begging for permission. You raise your hips, and he pulls them down your legs along with your underwear. 

You sit up as he chucks his sweatpants, his heavy erection now visible. Your first thought is, “Now that is a pretty dick.”

“Thank you,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” You wonder aloud, already knowing the answer.

Clark smiles, nodding at you before coaxing you to lay back. He sinks between your legs, holding them open to kiss your thighs. He teases you a bit, licking and nipping at your mound and outer labia until you wiggle your hips and whine. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Patience, please,” he cautions, shaking his head at you. He winks at you, diving fully into your snatch and sucking your clit between his lips. 

You throw your head back in ecstasy as his tongue slides over your swollen button. Humming while sucking on your nub is a fucking power move, and your hands tangle in his hair. You dig your heels into his back as he laps up the juices that accumulate at your entrance. Looking down at him as he worships at the altar of your body, you are taken aback as he peeks up at you over your mound.

With your eyes locked on each other, he watches as he tips you right over the edge. He groans into your pussy, his mouth and chin soaked, as your walls contract around nothing. The euphoria of being high mixes with the joy of being with someone new for the first time.

But this isn’t just anybody; this was your best friend. Warmth and comfort exist between you, allowing you to feel safe enough to fall and that Clark will catch you.

You come down as he plants a kiss on your mound, grazing his lips up your tummy. When he is back above your face, he runs the tip of his dick across your wet folds. He maintains eye contact while he slides in for the first time. 

Once he is fully seated inside you, he lets you adjust to his size before he withdraws slightly and thrusts forward. The wet squelch of your pussy and the smack of your bodies against one another are music to your ears. Clark’s grunts as he fucks into you only fuel your impending second climax.

“Fuck, you feel so good. Too good. Not going to last long,” he warns, sitting up on his knees as his hands go to your waist. Throwing his head back, he growls and picks up the pace, using your body like his personal fucktoy.

Your back arches as he repeatedly hits that hidden bundle of nerves. A searing fire erupts in your belly as your cunt clamps down on his dick, spasming and coating it with your cream.

“Good girl! That’s it. Fucking come for me, just like that,” he encourages. “Oh, shit. I’m right fucking behind you. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck.”

You lock your legs around his waist, keeping him right where he is as his dick spasms and fills you to the brim. Your hands smooth down his big chest, feeling the muscles ripple as he comes down from what is probably the most intense orgasm he has ever felt. He stills soon enough, breathing back to normal as his softening length slips from you.

Flopping down next to you, Clark wraps an arm around you. You curl into his side, an arm across his stomach, and a leg thrown over his. Contented silence fills the room as you both take in this unforeseen turn of events.

Clark’s hand makes idle patterns on your back as you lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You close your eyes for only a moment, missing Clark smiling at you. He gives you a quick peck on the top of your head, causing you to tilt your head to meet his eyes.

“You hungry?” you guess, feeling a bit peckish yourself.

“Yes!” he exclaims.

“Good. I know a great place down the street that makes the best samosas. Does Indian food sound good?” you ask, already tasting the rich spices of the food.

“Sounds perfect,” he says, picking up his arm to let you get up from the bed to grab your phone, watching your hips sway as you walk out to the other room.

Once back in bed, you order various dishes for the both of you. While you wait for the food, you pass a joint back and forth and steal a kiss or two. You decide there is plenty of time for you and Clark to talk. There is no use in killing the vibe for heavy stuff.

With the way Clark is looking at you, there’s not much to talk about anyway. 

🍃The End🍃

A/N: I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!

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[anikaluv]

TRY ‘EM ON —

❤︎︎ pairing: Miles (e!42) × sanrio!fem!reader

❤︎︎ genre: fluff

❤︎︎ cw: too much cuteness, reader is a lil’ whiny (it’s only because Miles spoils her too much), suggestive, reader is also referred / described as a lil’ cutie <3

❤︎︎ summary: You were shopping in the mall and happen to step upon a matching hello kitty underwear set in your favorite lingerie store. You couldn’t resist, so you bought it, now the problem is how to get Miles to wear them.

❤︎︎ w/c: 1.9k

❤︎︎ a/n: Im a sanrio girl myself, and I think it would be cute imagining the reader always trying to pull Miles into her obsession and him just letting it happen cause he loves her <3

The mall bustled with activity around you, various of sights and sounds flooded your senses. The air hummed with excitement as shoppers weaved in and out of the shops. Sunlight streamed through the skylights above, casting a warm glow on the polished floors.

Yet you felt nothing but mournfulness.

Sipping on your boba tea, you felt full of apathy, usually the mall made you feel so happy, yet this time you lazily walked through the mall groggily, dismissing anything that usually allured you.

It felt different without your boyfriend with you, you thought. Usually, he would attentively nod along to your endless rants, entertain you with his charming humor, and willingly accompany you to all your favorite stores without a hint of complaint. His comforting arm wrapped around your waist the whole trip, you missed him.

You asked Miles to join you, but as usual, he claimed to have "important business”— meaning that it was non-negotiable. You were whiny about it at first, but Miles assured that he would make it up to you, just as he always does.

While heading down the escalator, you were contemplating if you should just end this trip early and head home.

Then you saw it.

"LOVER MATCHING SETS: 60% OFF!" Your grin spread across your face as you spotted that your favorite lingerie store was having a sale for lovers, and getting something for you and Miles would surely get you out of your funk.

Mind set on a new mission, you giddily stroud towards the apparel store eager to check out what they had.

As you walked in, a wave of fruity scents lingered through the air, along with mainstream pop music bursting from the speakers.

The friendly clerk behind the counter greeted you with a smile, to which you responded with a nod of acknowledgment.

Assortments of all kinds of bras and lingerie were laid out at all different stands, adorned with detailing of how much off the price was discounted. You slowly walked through the shop, gravitating towards different stands that caught your eye until you made it to the lover set area.

You inspected each of the brands, they were cute, but they just weren’t what you were looking for.

Your shoulders slumped as you let out a deep sigh, you started to believe it was no hope until you reached the end of the stand.

“[BRAND NAME] X HELLO KITTY: MATCHING COUPLE SET.” You instantly smirked, mischievous glowing in your eyes.

It was perfect.

It was a matching panty and boxer set, colored in baby pink and littered with the face of Hello Kitty all over it. You tried to imagine Miles in the boxers and it brought a giggle out of you.

Miles was well aware of your deep fascination with Sanrio, and he wholeheartedly embraced it, going above and beyond to indulge your love with plushies, clothing, and various other items.

However, there was a part of you that desired to test those boundaries, to explore just how far his support for your addiction would stretch.

You eagerly approached the checkout counter, clutching the set in your hands. With a sense of urgency, you swiftly swiped your card. The clerk packaged the item in a small bag, and you walked away from the store, receipt in hand, feeling excitement, clutching your newfound prize.

Your keys jingled as you retrieved them from your purse, the spare key Miles had given you months ago unlocking the Morales home.

Aware of Mrs. Morales' overtime schedule, you guessed that if Miles was finished with his "important business”, he would likely be the only one present.

"Baby, are you here?" Your voice echoed through the apartment, the silence that followed for a mere five seconds evoked a little worry in you that Miles hadn’t return.

Approaching Miles' door, you knocked loudly, causing it to open slowly, revealing Miles on the other side. "Hey, mi sol, sorry if I couldn't hear you; I had my headphones on," he explained, his hand gracefully finding its place around your waist as he tenderly kissed your forehead. In response, you leaned up on your tiptoes, meeting his lips with a loving kiss.

"It's okay, you're not doing anything, right? I have something I want to give you." You lifted the bag from the lingerie store, shaking it while holding it up for him to see, and Miles let out a chuckle. "Oh? Did my chiquita buy something for me?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity. He stepped aside, allowing you to enter his room.

Rolling your eyes playfully at his comment, you hurriedly walked into his room and settled onto his bed. Miles followed behind, moving slowly as he took a seat in his desk chair. "So, what did you get me, ma?" he asked, raising an eyebrow while eyeing the bag in your hands.

A genuine smile illuminated your face as you handed him the bag. "While I was at the mall, they had this sale for lover sets," you explained. Miles smirked, “Oh yeah?,” he asked, rubbing his hands together, probably expecting a seductive lingerie peice for you and perhaps some fancy boxers for himself.

His smile quickly faded.

You erupted with laughter as he revealed the pink boxers, the sheer absurdity of it pushing you to the brink of tears. He released a groan in an annoyed manner, tossing the bag onto the floor.

"Do you like it, baby?" you asked, your tone teasing. Unfortunately, he didn't hear your question, too occupied with having a stank face towards the underwear, which only made you laugh harder.

Miles scowled and let out a sigh, realizing that this whole situation was providing you with great amusement. "Baby, I love you, but I ain’t putting that shit on," he declared, his tone laced with distaste.

The laughter you once had stopped. You couldn't help but pout, gazing at him with your most prettiest eyes. "Come on, Miles, you promised to make it up to me for not coming, and this is how you can." You clasped your hands together, attempting to look like you were begging. He sucked in his teeth, watching you intently, well aware that he could never say no to you.

Miles lowered his head, silently cursing to himself, as he reluctantly accepted the situation at hand. "Fine, but only if you try ‘em on first, ma," he agreed, nodding towards the panties that were still nestled in the bag.

Blushing slightly, you slowly rubbed the back of your neck. "Fine," you replied, accepting the offer. With that, you sealed the deal and made your way to the nearby bathroom to change. Gliding into one of Miles' oversized shirts and slipping the panties, you took a moment to gather yourself.

"What's taking so long, hermosa?" he called out to you jokingly. You frowned at his comment, confused at how the tables turned so quickly. You yelled back to him, "Just a moment!" Emerging a few seconds later, you stepped out to reveal your changed appearance.

As soon as you walked out it was like Miles’ eyes were all over you. "Damn, angelita," he whispered, his voice dripping with seduction, causing a playful giggle to escape your lips. "Do a lil’ turn me f’me, baby," he requested. Raising the shirt slightly to reveal the panties you wore, you slowly turned, teasingly showcasing them from the back. As you observed his heavy breathing, a rush of warmth spread through your body, flushing your skin.

Unexpectedly, his hand reached up and firmly grasped your ass, eliciting a gasp of surprise from you. "You should wear stuff like this more often, mami," he chuckled, a glint of desire evident in his eyes. You swore his pupils dilated with intensity. "You look incredibly hot in this," he added, his words dripping with attraction.

You flashed a playful smirk and slyly winked at him. “We’ll see,” taunting evident in your voice. You forced your mind to focus back on the real show, "Alright, now it's your turn to try on yours," you teased, a mischievous grin on your lips. You observed how his jaw clenched; you knew it would all be worth it soon.

Miles took a while to put the underwear on; you were slightly worried he was trying to talk himself out of it. Eventually, you heard grunts and shuffling, so you knew he was changing, and eventually, he came out.

That shit looked hilarious.

You couldn't help but let out a snort the moment Miles walked out. Aware of his discomfort, you tried to stifle your laughter, but it was impossible. The mere sight before you was too much to handle. Your laughter grew uncontrollable, causing you to nearly tumble off the bed in fits of howling amusement. In response, Miles shot you a deadpan expression, retreating to his desk chair while you held on tight to your stomach, struggling to contain the laughter that churned in your stomach.

Wiping away tears of laughter, you composed yourself and sat up straight, posing the question half-seriously, "So, do you approve?" Your smile widened as you observed him arching an eyebrow, silently conveying his disbelief. He let out a deep sigh and responded, "They're aight, mami."

A sense of reassurance washed over you, causing you to clap your hands and let out a gleeful giggle. "Mission accomplished!", you cheered, brimming with happiness. It was in that moment that a grin spread across Miles' face. Despite his usual annoyance to your playful antics, he couldn't deny that witnessing that adorable smile on your face made it all worthwhile.

Miles swiveled in his desk chair, extending his arms invitingly towards you. “C’mere, pretty girl,” he called to you. You eagerly rose from your seat and straddled him, looking as cute as always. “Yes, baby?” you asked, head tilting like a puppy in confusion.

His words exited his mouth with fondness and loving. “Just wanted to get a closer look at my girl”, he confessed, his voice laced with calm, soothing reassurance. Gently, he placed his hands on your waist, and you instinctively leaned into his touch, encircling your arms around his neck.

As you began to excitedly rant about the other lover sets you saw while at the lingerie store, Miles listened intently, his fingertips tracing gentle circles on your hips. At one point, you turned your head and felt his gaze upon you, filling your heart with warmth and causing your cheeks to flush. Your words stumbled and you averted his gaze, unable to meet his affectionate eyes. A soft chuckle escaped Miles as he observed your flustered state.

"Thank you for going out and getting something for me, mi reina," he expressed, his voice filled with gratitude. You placed a light peck on his nose and snuggled into his neck, feeling the comforting embrace of his presence. "I think you look cute in ‘em," you admitted honestly. Miles shook his head playfully at your remark, nuzzling into you and humming a soft melody, creating a intimate atmosphere for the both of you.

.

.

.

“But for real though, these boxers are ass.”

“Miles don’t make me pop you.”

EXTRA: Miles was diligently working on his prowler claws in his base, engrossed in conversation with Uncle Aaron about future targets and jobs. As Miles rose to his feet, his pants slipped slightly, exposing the underwear he had on.

“Yo, Miles, what the hell is that?” Uncle Aaron burst into laughter, his eyes fixated on the sight of Miles wearing baby pink boxers.

Miles eyes widened in confusion, until he looked down and realized what Aaron meant.

"Just a lil’ something my girl got for me," Miles responded, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement and a knowing smile.

By the way, the boxers like looked this, lmaooo. Just wanted ya'll to get a lil' visual.

ENDING A/N: Hope ya’ll enjoyed this one <3 Was gonna add a grinding scene where you and Miles grinded against each other in the underwear while you were straddling him, but someone has already flagged me on here so I’m trynna keep it on the down low rn 😂

TAGLIST: @janaeby @bellstwd @nmgstuff @axeoverblade @zaddyskye69 @agstuffsworld

TAGS:

[girlrotterr]

Milk Of The Siren pt.2

captain!abby x siren!reader a/n: literally soo late with this! But it's here now!! ( ˊᵕˋ )♡ ⇢ part one 𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼

The first light of dawn filtered through the cave entrance, casting a soft, golden glow across the lagoon. The water, once a mysterious shade of midnight blue, now shimmered with pink and orange hues, reflecting the rising sun's vibrant colors. 

You emerged from the depths of the lagoon, your iridescent scales catching the early morning light, creating a mesmerizing display of colors that danced across the cave. The air was cool and fresh, filled with the scent of salt and seaweed, and the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore.

"I've returned with—AH!" you exclaimed, just in time to see a thick piece of wood hurtling toward you. Instinctively, you dove back into the water, the sudden motion creating ripples. Causing nearby sea creatures to scatter, their glowing forms disappearing into the shadows.

Beneath the water, you grumbled to yourself, peering up through the distorted surface at Abby. The underwater view warped her figure, her movements slow and dreamlike as she wiped her forehead with her forearm.

"My apologies!" Abby called out, her voice muffled and distorted by the water. "I'm still learning to use..." She glanced down at the makeshift tool you had crafted for her—a blend of driftwood and seaweed bound together to serve as a hammer. "Well, this."

You peeked above the water, your eyes glinting with annoyance. It had been months since Abby had begun constructing the boat, and progress had been slower than expected. The small boat, meant to be her ticket out of the lagoon, still lay incomplete, its frame sturdy but still lacking. 

Abby was kneeling by the boat, tinkering with a piece of rope that she had looped awkwardly around one of the driftwood supports. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, her fingers fumbling with the knots. Peeking above the surface, you observed her silently.

"You treat it as if it were a toy," you murmured to yourself, your voice carrying through the water in a soft echo. The tools and materials you had previously gathered were scattered around her.

Abby then stood up, her movements casual as she reached for her shirt. She pulled it up to her face, wiping away her sweat. From the glow in the cave, you couldn't help but notice the intricate details of her body—the defined lines of her abs, the toned muscles that flexed beneath her skin. 

The cave's cool air kissed Abby’s flushed cheeks, Her hair, tousled from the sea breeze, framed her face like a halo, with strands of wet hair clinging to her temples and neck.

You felt a pang of curiosity, a flicker of fascination. But you resisted, diving your gaze back into the water where the distorted view might calm the intensity of your thoughts.

"I will have to depart soon," you said, your voice creating bubbles through the water. 

Abby looked down at you, her shirt still clutched in her hand. Her gaze met yours, eyes wide with concern. She held the fabric tightly, the remnants of sweat dripping from its edges.

"Why?" Abby's voice was soft, almost lost in the gentle sounds of the cave. The question lingered in the air, laden with the weight of impending separation.

You sighed, the sound bubbling through the water as you peeked above the surface, your eyes never leaving hers. "The materials I have supplied for you will occupy you for the time being," you continued, your tone firm.

Abby nodded slowly, her gaze shifting to the assortment of gathered seaweed, branches, and shells laid out neatly beside her

"My absence will soon be noticed by the other sirens," you admitted, " It has been months."

Abby nodded slowly, her mind processing your words. The sudden realization that time had slipped made her eyes soften with understanding. “I understand.”

You inclined your head in agreement, the movement fluid and natural as you regarded her. You studied her expression with keen eyes, noting the subtle shift in her demeanor.

"I’ll return by the next full moon," you continued. The sunlight filtering through the cave entrance created a soft, shimmering glow around you. "I will continue to supply you with materials. You must have everything you need to complete the boat."

Abby looked up at you, a mischievous smirk tugging at her lips. “Of course,” she said, her tone light and teasing. “You must ensure my leave.”

You grumbled under your breath, a mix of irritation and amusement flickering across your eyes. “You mock me.”

Abby's eyes locked onto yours with a sudden, piercing intensity, causing you to flinch involuntarily. Her azure eyes, a striking shade of blue, held a depth that seemed to mirror the very waters you roam, stirring a knot in your stomach—an unfamiliar sensation.

“I only tease.” she said, her voice softening into a gentle, soothing tone. The warmth of her words contrasted with the mischievous glint in her eyes, leaving you at a loss for words.

“Before you go,” Abby said, holding out a few seashells toward you. “Here,” she added, her voice soft. “I believe I no longer have use for them..”

You hesitated, your hand hovering above the shells. The contact with her skin was always a strange sensation—warm and oddly comforting, stirring feelings you were reluctant to acknowledge. Every time your fingers brushed against hers, it sent a thrilling jolt through you, a sensation both exhilarating and unnerving.

“Are you certain?” you asked, your voice betraying a hint of hesitation. “I put in a lot of effort to gather your supplies, and I’d rather not see them go to waste...”

Abby’s gaze locked onto you, her eyes searching your face. You shifted uncomfortably, unable to hold her gaze, feeling a flush of warmth rise to your cheeks. Her eyes, filled with an unreadable emotion, made you look away.

“It isn’t fair to the ocean,” you continued, your voice softening. “It provides for us, and you must respect that.” The seashells glinted in the dim light of the cave, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the shadows. “Every piece, every bit of the sea, has its place and purpose.”

Abby smiled gently, her expression reassuring. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do such a thing,” she said, settling down at the edge of the lagoon. “I simply can’t find a use for them; they’re all cracked.”

You glanced at the shells in her hand, and she was right—their delicate structures were indeed fractured, not sturdy enough for any practical use.

“Surely they can.” you replied, reaching out to take them from her. 

Your fingers brushed against her palm, the warmth of her skin sending a thrill through you, leaving you momentarily breathless. It was a sensation you couldn’t quite comprehend—a confusing mix of pleasure and unease. Perhaps it was your instincts craving her warmth, or something deeper and more mysterious.

The thought of feeding upon her, though a familiar part of your nature, seemed strangely less appealing compared to the comfort she offered. You tried to focus on the practical aspect, but your stomach turned with each lingering touch.

“You see,” you began, forcing yourself to concentrate on the seashells, “even these cracked shells can be useful. They can be used as decorative elements or for crafting pieces.” You hoped that by redirecting your attention, you could brush off the moment. 

Abby tilted her head, curiosity evident in her eyes. “How so?” she asked.

“I’ll demonstrate,” you replied.

 You took the cracked shells from her hand and set to work. With careful movements, you began transforming the fragile pieces into intricate hair clips.

The process demanded precision, and you could feel Abby’s eyes on you.. Her gaze seemed to weigh heavily on your shoulders, making your fingers tremble slightly as you worked. Each time you looked up, you caught a glimpse of her observing you intently, and it only added to the tension you were feeling.

You could feel your frustration mounting, anger and embarrassment rising within you. The sirens often spoke of the danger of being affected by humans, and here you were, struggling to maintain composure while a mere human’s gaze seemed to unsettle you. It felt as though your control was slipping, and the very act of creating these clips, which should have been straightforward, was becoming a struggle.

You felt exposed, vulnerable, and it made you angry—angry at yourself for allowing a human to have such an effect on you.

Abby’s gaze remained fixed on you, her eyes softening as she watched you work. “I don’t mean to distract you,” she said quietly, sensing the shift in your demeanor. “It’s simply… fascinating to see what you can do.”

You gritted your teeth, forcing a tight smile as you finished the last of the clips. “It’s nothing.” you said sharply, trying to regain your composure.

Abby’s expression was a mix of admiration and something else you couldn’t quite decipher. “They’re beautiful,” she said softly, reaching out to touch one of the clips. 

You felt a surge of irritation as Abby’s hand moved closer to the clips. Without thinking, you sharply slapped her hand away. “They’re delicate.” you blurted, trying to mask your frustration behind a flimsy excuse. The abrupt action seemed to echo through the quiet of the cave, your pulse quickening in your ears.

Abby’s hand recoiled from your slap, and she looked at you with surprise and amusement. Her laughter, light and unexpected, filled the space between you. “Okay, okay,” she said, her voice carrying a playful tone. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

Despite her reassured demeanor, you couldn’t shake a feeling. The irritation you felt was not just about the intrusion but about the conflicting emotions stirred up by this human. The very fact that Abby’s presence could make you feel so vulnerable, was deeply unsettling. The urge to lash out, to push her away, was strong, but the notion of harming her felt wrong.

You looked away, feeling a flush of both anger and embarrassment. “Just… handle them carefully,” you said, your voice rough. “They’re not as sturdy as they seem.”

Abby nodded, still chuckling softly. “I’ll be sure to be gentle with them,” she promised. She seemed genuinely intrigued by your reaction, her eyes reflecting an unexpected warmth. It was clear she found your fierceness endearing, but for you, it only added to the chaos inside.

“I’ll place them in your hair for you,” you offered, trying to mask the anxiety with a sense of control. “I don’t quite trust that you’ll handle them as carefully as they deserve.” Your voice was firmer than you felt, a desperate attempt to maintain composure.

Abby’s eyes widened with a hint of amusement, and she raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is that so?” she said, a teasing note in her voice. “Very well.”

Your hands, usually so steady and confident, now felt shaky as you reached for Abby’s hair.  

Her long, dark blond hair cascaded like a waterfall of sunlight and shadow, each strand woven together with a silky smoothness that felt almost unreal. As you gently sifted through her hair, you could feel the soft texture against your fingertips.

The longer you worked, the more you became aware of how deeply you craved to tangle your fingers in her hair, to feel the fullness of it wrapped around your hands. There was something thrilling about the idea, an urge to pull and entwine. The sensation was so unfamiliar, as if each touch of her hair awakened a part of you that had long been sealed. You couldn’t believe how such a simple act could stir up such feelings.

As you looked down at Abby, the details of her face seemed to magnify, each feature more captivating than the last. Her long lashes fluttered softly with each blink, her nose was lightly rounded with a gentle bump, seeming to need the trace of a fingertip, an urge to explore its contours. Her lips, slightly pouting with a hint of curiosity, their natural shape perfect.

Abby’s eyes, now focused on you with an almost conspiratorial glint, made it even harder to concentrate. “You’re surprisingly gentle,” she commented softly, her voice just above a whisper. “I didn’t think you'd be so concerned.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You were acutely aware of every detail: the way her hair fell against her shoulders, the faint scent of the sea that clung to her, and the undeniable pull you felt toward her.

Abby looked up at you, her gaze locking onto yours with an intensity. There was an unspoken connection in the way she studied you, her eyes dark with a mix of curiosity and something deeper. You could feel the weight of her gaze, a sensation that seemed to pull at something inside you, making you hyper-aware of every movement and emotion.

"Is something the matter?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

Slowly, Abby reached up with a tentative hand, her fingers brushing gently against your skin. The touch was feather-light, but it sent a jolt through you.. Her eyes, still fixed on yours, seemed to search for something, a deeper understanding or perhaps a connection that words could not express.

“You’re possessing..” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper, but filled with an underlying intensity. Her gaze shifted to your lips, lingering there with a look that conveyed longing. Her touch, though gentle, seemed to hold a promise of something more, an invitation that made your pulse quicken.

At that moment, a stark realization overcame you. The thought of sharing Abby with anyone else, of another discovering her, made your skin crawl with a deep unease. The notion of her dying at the hands of another siren was unthinkable—if she were to meet her end, it would have to be at your own hands.

“I must go..” you said, the words coming out strained and reluctant, as though they were being forced from you against your will. 

───────

Isaac gestured towards a chair with a nod. “Have a seat, please.”

Ellie hesitated at the door of Isaac's office, her heart racing. The room was shrouded in darkness; the heavy curtains were drawn tight, letting in only a faint, eerie glow from the lights outside. The air was thick with the acrid smell of cigarettes, lingering like a heavy fog. She took a seat in the worn, leather chair opposite Isaac's desk, her mind already racing through possibilities.

“If this is about the delays in our hunts, it’s because we’re still waiting for the ammunition shipment. Jessie was supposed to handle it-”, her voice trembling slightly. She had been feeling the pressure of the delayed shipments and hoped this meeting wouldn’t be about her failures.

“Williams.” Isac cut her off with a sharp, authoritative tone. 

Ellie fell silent, her mouth snapping shut. She looked up at Isac, confusion knitting her brow.

“This is nothing of the matter,” Isac continued, his tone indicating the gravity of the situation. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. He slid a dossier across the desk towards Ellie. The file was thick, its surface marked with a red stamp that read “ANDERSON.”

Ellie’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of the dossier. Her confusion deepened as she picked up the file, feeling the weight of it in her hands. 

“As you’re aware, Anderson was responsible for delivering crucial cargo to Europe,” Isaac's voice was calm but carried an undertone of tension. “There’s been a serious breach. We suspect Anderson of taking the cargo for her own gain”

Ellie’s hand gripped the file tightly, her heart pounding in her chest. The words seemed to ring in her mind, the gravity of the accusation sinking in. She stood abruptly, her face flushed with shock and disbelief. “No!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in protest. “Abby would do nothing of the sort!”

Isaac's gaze remained steady, his expression unyielding. “We have evidence the cargo never reached its intended destination,” he said, his voice cold and precise. “The delay is suspicious, and Anderon’s sudden disappearance only proves our concerns.”

Ellie’s eyes widened, her voice trembling with both anger and desperation. “You can’t honestly believe that Abby would steal from you! She’s been nothing but reliable. If there’s a problem, there has to be another explanation.”

Isaac's voice cut through Ellie’s mounting frustration. “That’s where you’re mistaken, Williams. There’s no other explanation.”

A jolt of realization struck Ellie. She suddenly understood that this wasn’t just about finding Abby or ensuring her safety—it was about the missing cargo. 

“You only care for the cargo!” Ellie shouted, her voice echoing sharply against the dim walls. ““You don’t give a damn about Abby’s well-being!”

Isaac’s expression remained unreadable as he met her fiery gaze. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the weight of unspoken truths. Finally, Isaac spoke, his tone as cold as the room’s oppressive atmosphere. “A thief doesn’t deserve my concern.”

Ellie’s anger flared, her hands trembling as she struggled to control her emotions.

Isaac's face remained impassive, his eyes cold and unyielding. “My concern is for the cargo and its value to our operations,” he said flatly. “Abby’s personal fate is irrelevant if she has compromised our interests. The priority is recovering what was lost.”

In a surge of frustration, Ellie grabbed the dossier from her hands and hurled it towards Isaac. The file flying through the air, papers scattering in a chaotic flutter as they rained down around him. The sudden movement shocked him, his eyes widening slightly as he watched the documents drift to the floor. The dim light from the desk lamp illuminated the disarray, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Ellie’s face was flushed with anger and resolve, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.

"I'm not helping you," Ellie declared, her voice falt despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

Isaac's gaze remained steady, though his surprise was evident. He leaned back in his chair, his expression a mixture of irritation and contemplation. “You refuse?” he asked, his voice tinged with a cold edge.

Ellie met his gaze with a fierce determination. “I refuse to be part of an operation that disregards the well-being of the people involved,” she shot back. “I’ll find Abby, and I’ll make sure she’s safe. If you want to know what happened, you’ll have to look elsewhere.”

With that, Ellie turned sharply and stormed out of the office, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the corridor.

───────

"At last, you've returned," Dina said, swimming towards you with swift, graceful movements. Her tail, a shimmering blend of emerald and sapphire, caught the faint light, creating a mesmerizing glow. Mel followed closely behind, her tail a deep, rich violet that faded into midnight blue at the tips, moving with the fluid elegance of a predator.

Dina and Mel were among the most skilled of all sirens, their abilities in both hunting and navigating the treacherous waters unmatched. Dina's lithe form and sharp eyes had made her a master of stealth, while Mel's strength and agility made her a formidable force in any confrontation. Both of them now circled you with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

"What has occupied you?" Mel asked, her voice carrying an edge as she swam around you, her gaze never leaving your face. "There have been whispers."

You tried to steady your breathing, keeping your expression neutral. "Hunting," you replied, attempting to sound casual. “I ventured further than usual, looking for richer waters.”

“You must’ve ventured to another sea for you to be gone for months ,” Mel remarked, her violet and blue tail flicking with curiosity. Her eyes, still tinged with suspicion, held yours firmly.

Dina’s eyes narrowed, and she sniffed the water around you, a hint of skepticism in her gaze. “You reek of human,” she said, her voice tinged with suspicion.

Mel swam closer, her eyes piercing as she scrutinized you. “Bloodbathing alone?” she asked, her tone accusing. The act of bloodbathing—killing multiple humans at once—was a serious offense among sirens. The act is carried out alone, and is viewed as both selfish and gluttonous.

“No.” you snapped. “I was merely exploring new territories.”

Mel’s tail flicked impatiently, the violet and blue shimmering in the water. “Exploring or hiding something?” she challenged. “Your scent is too strong for just simple encounters.”

Dina’s gaze remained fixed on you, her expression unreadable. “The council isn’t too fond of such an act,” she warned.

In the ocean’s darkest depths, the Council of Elders—composed of the oldest and most powerful sirens—gather to pass judgment. Bloodbathing was deemed a serious crime, and the penalties for such an offense were severe.

Exile being the most common consequence, with a siren being marked with a scar and cast into treacherous currents. In more extreme cases, the council performs Scouring, removing a siren's scales and leaving them vulnerable to attacks. The worst punishment was Soul Binding, where a siren's soul is anchored to the sea floor, enduring endless darkness and crushing pressure—a fate deemed worse than death. 

You hardened your expression, "You believe I'd risk everything for mere humans? Don't insult me."

Mel swam closer, her fingers gently tucking your hair behind your ear. "The sirens whisper you’ve gone soft since you’ve  returned" she murmured, her tone a mixture of curiosity and challenge.

"You humor me," you snapped, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "I've been focused on finding new hunting grounds and ensuring our safety. That is all."

Dina's smirk widened, but her eyes remained sharp and assessing. "Prove it.”

Dina looked at Mel for a moment, their eyes communicating a silent conversation. After a brief pause, Mel turned back to you with a sharp, authoritative tone. ““Accompany us on a hunt. We received word of a small ship approaching.”

Dina’s eyes narrowed slightly as she added, “You were not present for the previous one.”

Mel’s expression darkened.“Unfortunately, our feast won’t be as grand,” she said with a frown. “Only one human.”

Dina nodded in agreement. “We’ll split it,” she said. Her tone was final, a clear signal that the decision was made and there was no room for disagreement.

“It should arrive by the next full moon,” Mel said, her voice carrying the calm assurance of someone well-versed in the rhythm of the ocean. “We have ample time to prepare.”

You tried to keep your outward demeanor composed, “What exactly do you have planned?”

Dina, always the more strategic of the two, began outlining their plans with detailed precision. “We need to position ourselves well, use the currents to our advantage, and ensure we’re ready when the ship arrives.”

As you listened to Dina and Mel discuss their plans, a wave of panic surged through you. The full moon was just days away, and you couldn’t shake the thought of Abby being alone, possibly running out of food and materials. 

Your mind raced with images of Abby in the cave, struggling without the supplies she needed. The small boat you had promised to help her construct was still incomplete, and you feared that she would be left in a dire situation while you were away hunting. The realization that she might be unprepared or worse, in danger, gnawed at you.

“I heard there’s a possibility it’s a woman!” Dina said, her voice bubbling with excitement as she swam in circles. Her emerald and sapphire tail flicked with anticipation, and her eyes sparkled with intrigue.

Mel joined Dina, leaning in closer. “Marlene mentioned she’s freckled.” 

───────

You swam swiftly through the dark waters, the urgency in your movements matching the pounding of your heart. The familiar rock formations loomed ahead, and you maneuvered quickly to reach the lagoon’s entrance.

Bursting into the cave, your sudden entrance sent a splash of water onto the rocky shore where Abby was seated, her back turned to you. She jerked around, her eyes wide with surprise as droplets dripped from her wet hair.

"Back so soon?" Abby asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and amusement. She raised an eyebrow, her expression playful. "You yearned for me that terribly?"

You tried to steady your breathing, forcing a calm demeanor despite the rush of adrenaline. "I had to return quickly. Things are more complicated than I anticipated."

Abby’s eyes softened, but there was a hint of a teasing smile on her lips. “Complicated? What could possibly be more complex than helping me build a boat?”

You met her gaze, trying to conceal the worry you felt. “It’s not just about the boat. There are... other factors to consider.” You hesitated, glancing around the cave to check on her supplies. “I came to make sure you have everything you need and to bring additional materials.”

You quickly checked the supplies and added what you had brought, trying to mask your anxiety. The weight of your secret and the looming threat of the hunt pressed heavily on you, but for now, your focus was on ensuring Abby had what she needed.

"I see.." Abby said, her smile widening as she looks at you. 

─────── 

Night had fallen, casting a gentle darkness over the lagoon as Abby continued her work on the boat. The soft glow of a lantern illuminated her focused expression. You stayed nearby,comfortably settled on a smooth rock, enjoying the quiet moments and the rhythmic sound of Abby’s steady work.

Abby’s hands moved swiftly as she shaped and fitted wooden planks, concentrating in measuring and adjusting each piece. The cool breeze carried the scent of salt and sand, mixing with the faint aroma of the wood. The occasional clink of tools and the soft rustle of materials were the only sounds breaking the stillness of the night.

After a while, Abby paused, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. She glanced over at you, her expression relaxed. "You know," she began, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity, "it’s interesting how different our worlds are, yet we have managed to find common ground."

You looked up, intrigued. "In what way?"

Abby leaned back against the boat, her eyes thoughtful. "Well, for instance, the way humans and sirens view the world. We’re always so focused on creating and building—like this boat. It’s a way of shaping the world to fit our needs."

You nodded, considering her words. "And sirens?"

"You have a different perspective," Abby said, her gaze turning toward the lagoon. "You view yourselves as part of the natural world, more attuned to its rhythms. Your creations are often more about harmony.” 

You smiled, finding her observations entertaining, “I agree.” 

"You know," Abby continued, her voice reflecting a touch of nostalgia, "when I was younger, I used to spend hours just sitting by the water, listening to stories about sirens and their legends.” 

"I never truly expected to encounter one,"Abby said, her eyes locking with yours. There’s a moment of silent connection, the gravity of her words hanging in the air between you.

“Is it more surreal than you had anticipated?” you asked, meeting her gaze with equal intensity. 

Abby’s lips curved into a playful smile as she replied, “It’s captivating.”

Her reply made you momentarily freeze, a sudden warmth rising to your cheeks. The air between you seemed to crackle with tension, and you quickly looked away, trying to compose yourself. 

Abby’s gaze softened as she studied you more closely, her earlier teasing giving way to concern. “I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been a bit off since you returned. ”

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat as you grappled with the decision to reveal your feelings. The weight of Abby’s gaze, filled with genuine concern, nudged you toward honesty. Finally, you took a deep breath and decided that it’s better to be straightforward.

You sighed, “The sirens are planning a hunt,” you confessed, your voice low. “It is scheduled for the same night I am meant to be with you. That is the reason I’m restocking your supplies so early.” 

Abby’s eyes widened slightly, and she fell silent, processing your words. Her gaze dropped to the ground, a conflicted expression crossing her face. “You’re saying they plan to kill humans. They will be out hunting that night, and you are expected to be involved?”

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. “Yes. A hunt is a significant event for the sirens. If I don’t participate, it could raise suspicion and jeopardize everything.”

Abby’s face was a mask of turmoil. ““It’s difficult to imagine you taking a life,” she said quietly.

You met her gaze with a flat, almost detached expression. “I’ve killed countless.” you said, your tone devoid of emotion, as if you were discussing a mundane fact of life. To you, it was a normal part of existence, a necessity that had become ingrained in your world.

“It is the main source by which I obtain my energy,” you explained, your voice carrying a note of resigned practicality. You knew how your actions must appear to others, but to you, it was simply how things worked. The reality of your needs was an intrinsic part of your existence, one that was hard to reconcile with others’ perceptions.

“Besides,” you added, your tone shifting slightly to convey a sense of fairness, “You take the lives of our animals and sea creatures to sustain your own energy. It is only just that I do what is necessary to maintain mine.”

You sank down onto a flat rock near the edge of the cave, exhaustion and worry pressing heavily upon you. Resting your head in your arms, you closed your eyes momentarily, the cool surface beneath you offering a brief relief from the tension.

“Don’t worry,” you said softly, though the words felt hollow even to you. “It’ll only be one.” You tried to sound reassuring, as if the number of lives at stake would somehow make the situation any less dire. “A freckled one at that.”

Abby’s eyes widened, “Freckled?” she repeated, her tone laced with seriousness. “Are you certain?”

Her sudden intensity made you tense, and you could see the gears turning in her mind. "Why is it significant?"you asked, trying to remain calm, though the unease in your voice betrayed your agitation.

Abby began to pace back and forth, her movements sharp and agitated. “From where did you obtain this?”

she demanded, her voice tight with urgency.

Your eyes widened in shock. “What—?”

“where did you obtain this information?”” Abby repeated, her tone cracking under the weight of her concern. She stopped pacing and fixed you with a piercing gaze, her eyes searching yours for answers. 

“The other sirens received information about the ship,” you explained, your voice steady despite the situation. . “I am unaware of who the human is.”

Abby’s face paled, and she began to pace again, her movements more frantic this time. “If that ship is marked as originating from Jackson…” She stopped abruptly, her eyes wide with dawning realization. “It is possible that they may be searching for me.”

“I need to see it.” Abby said, her tone urgent and determined. “You must take me with you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What—?”

“That ship could be my opportunity to return home,” Abby explained, her voice growing more fervent. “If I am able to board it, I will not even need to complete this.”” She glanced over at the boat she’d been diligently working on, the unfinished vessel now seeming less significant.

“Are you hearing yourself?” you said, frustration edging your voice. “Bringing you to a hunting location is pure stupidity. It’s dangerous—”

Abby cut you off, her expression hardening. “ If that ship is indeed what I believe it to be, the risk is justified. I cannot afford to miss this chance.”

Her words seemed to blend into a confusing haze, muffled by the chaos of emotions swirling within you. The idea of Abby leaving your care, of potentially losing her, caused your body to tremble. As the realization of her departure hit you with an intensity you hadn’t anticipated, your breathing grew uneven.

The thought of returning to solitude, of reclaiming your cave, felt almost insignificant in comparison of her leaving. The connection you shared with her had evolved into something far more significant.

Abby’s hopeful gaze met yours, her expectations clear in her eyes. “Please,” she urged softly, “Help me do this.”

The impulse to lunge at Abby was almost irresistible, to wrap her in your arms with a force of desperation, clinging to her as if your life depended on it. You wanted to hold her so tightly that she could never escape, to preserve the warmth and comfort she had brought into your life.

A thought flickered through your mind, an irrational impulse to end her life right then and there, so that she could remain with you for eternity. 

How could you possibly let her go, knowing how her presence had woven itself into the fabric of your existence? The thought of her departure felt like a gaping void opening up, an emptiness that threatened to consume you. 

“No.” you said, locking eyes with her, the finality of the word hanging heavily in the air. 

The single word echoed in the space between you, the weight of it settling heavily. Abby’s hopeful expression faltered, a flicker of hurt and confusion crossing her face. She stood there, the tension of the moment etched deeply in her features, as the reality of your refusal sank in.

Abby’s voice trembled with confusion. “What…?”

“No.” you repeated. 

[brokehorrorfan]

The People's Joker will be released on Blu-ray, DVD, and VHS on August 13 via Altered Innocence. Sister Hyde designed the artwork for the 2022 trans superhero parody film.

Vera Drew makes her feature directorial debut from a script she co-wrote with Bri LeRose. Drew also stars with Kane Distler, Nathan Faustyn, Lynn Downey, and David Liebe Hart. Tim Heidecker, Bob Odenkirk, Maria Bamford, and Scott Aukerman make cameos.

A 24-page comic book is included. Special features are listed below.

Audio commentary by writer-director-actress Vera Drew

Audio commentary by writer-director-actress Vera Drew and actor Nathan Faustyn

Audio commentary by assorted cast and crew

Discussion with director Vera Drew and Corpses, Fools, and Monsters authors Willow Catelyn Maclay and Caden Mark Gardner

Queebso TV

Behind-the-scenes

Trailers

A closeted trans girl moves to Gotham City to make it big as a comedian by joining the cast of UCB Live – a government-sanctioned late night sketch show in a world where comedy has been outlawed. As mainstream success eludes our heroine, leading her to unite with a ragtag team of rejects, misfits, and a certain love interest named Mister J, "Joker the Harlequin" is born again as a confident (and psychotic) joker on a collision course with the city’s fascist caped crusader. Vats of feminizing chemicals, sexy cartoon interludes, scarecrow psychiatrists, CGI Lorne Michaels, and psychedelic gender dysphoria all play supporting roles.

Pre-order The People's Joker.

[queenshelby]

OSCAR SPECIAL (PART ONE OF FOUR)

Given Cillian’s recent success, I decided to jump ahead a little in my fics and give you a little Oscar Special. But don’t worry, I will cover off everything in between in due course and, for some fics, this Oscar part will hopefully get you guessing, while for others it will constitute a happy ending!

Our Dirty Little Secret (Special Part)

Nine months later…

"I don't know why I agreed to this," you told Cillian while clutching his hand just as the car pulled up in front of the red carpet. This was your first public outing with Cillian since the scandal about your illicit affair had broken just over nine months ago and whilst you had found your way together, society did not exactly approve of your somewhat controversial relationship with the 47-year-old. 

"It'll be fine. You need to trust me," he whispered in your ear confidently, as if it were just another date night for you and not the greatest gathering of Hollywood's glitterati. Deep down, you wanted to believe him but it was obvious to you that he had put on act, just for you, to calm your nerves.  He hated these events just as much as you did and knew how hard it was for you to adapt to this lifestyle with him.

"I should have stayed with Mara, Cillian. I never left her for so long, you know," you then tried to change the topic, talking about the daughter you had brought into this world together just under nine months ago, but Cillian simply chuckled. 

"Mara will be fine with my mum, at the hotel. I promise," Cillian assured you with a loving smile. "Despite, I really need you with me tonight," he paused, gently squeezing your hand. "I couldn't imagine being here without you, Y/N," he then finally told you as one of the red-carpet attendees opened the door for you both. 

"Don't you dare run off on me," you gasped, seeing all those intimidating photographers taking pictures of you both as he helped you out of the car, your white dress grazing the asphalt.

"I would never," he chuckled, playfully winking at you, as you bit back a smile, realizing that you were too easily flustered.

He then took your hand into his firmly, clearly showing the world that you belonged together and not a single soul would change that.

"Cillian, over here!" a reporter yelled out while, another, shorter woman with fiery hair, aggressively jumped in to get a good shot of you both. The molten sea of cameras around you ignited a varied assortment of insecurities you forgot you ever had. Suddenly, you were a ten-year-old girl again, your heart dancing under its master's feet set ablaze by judgement; but Cillian squeezed your hand gently, reminding you that you were a woman now—his woman.

A familiar warmth spread through your chest as his steely blue eyes fixated on yours. A silently brokered promise passed between you two: Survive this together.

The female reporter from earlier pushed her way to the front, locking her beady gaze onto Cillian with a voracious hunger.

"Cillian, how does it feel to be nominated as Best Actor for your performance in Oppenheimer?" she asked while you tried to back off a little, but Cillian would not leave you alone, holding you closer to him, showing the world that you both were together in this.

"It's a true honor to be nominated. I couldn't be more grateful. The cast, the crew, everyone really poured their hearts into the story, and I wouldn't be here without them. It was something unique and powerful," he responded, barely looking at the woman, but at you instead, trying to keep his focus.

"And I see you are being supported by your wonderful, young girlfriend tonight, making this your first public outing together. Is that right?" the reporter asked, curiosity sparking excitement in her voice as she studied you two intently. 

"Well, we do have a young child together, which makes it difficult for us to attend events like this as a couple," Cillian began to say while smiling at you intently. "But, especially tonight, I couldn't ask for more than her presence," he admitted, his voice dripping with sincerity as he gazed at you openly.

The intensity of his gaze made your stomach flutter: It was a look that held secrets, a silent vow. You squeezed his hand tighter now and were unable to keep the smile from growing on your lips.

Cillian then stroked the back of your hand with his thumb, causing you to disconnect from the chaotic dance unfolding before your eyes and connect to the feeling of being near him, a feeling that cantered and calmed you.

"Thank you Cillian, and good luck tonight," the reporter finally offered a soft smile before signalling to her photographer to take some more pictures. 

As you walked down the red carpet, a familiar pop song began to infiltrate your eardrums as you ignored the snippets of questions being hurled at both of you, creating a barrier between your world and theirs. Even with the nest of hundreds of reporters and photographers, the red carpet no longer scared you as it used to, especially when you had Cillian by your side, shielding you from the worst of it all.

Eventually, you both reached your seats, not too far from the front of the stage and Cillian introduced you to some of the actors and actresses he had worked with. You also met some familiar faces, like Emily Blunt and her husband John who both had a calming presence about themselves. 

The tension seemed to melt away as you chatted with them and, for a moment, you managed to forget all the critical eyes resting on you, fading into the background until it was time to be quiet for the opening speech.

As the ceremony commenced, you merely held hands with Cillian, giving his reassurance every time he gave yours. Despite the constant whispers and sly glances coming your way, you tried to embody Cillian's mantra, staying present in this moment and focusing on his unwavering companionship instead of the judgement weighing you down. For hours on end, you managed to simply enjoy the show and, when finally, it was his turn to shine, you clutched his hand even tighter. 

"And the Oscar goes to," the presenter announced, opening the golden envelope while, secretly you had been crossing your fingers for him all week long. "Cillian Murphy!" he then announced, making a-thousand-cameras flash simultaneously as your heart began to race uncontrollably against your ribcage. It was a strange feeling, this overwhelming sense of pride that flooded you, leaving you bruised and raw from the exposure.

Standing up simultaneously with Cillian, a big smile formed on your face as, quickly you caressed his face. "You did it!" you whispered to Cillian, hugging him almost desperately as he embraced you back, tightly. He then kissed the top of your head, taking a moment to soak in the gravity of his achievement as the crowd around cheered and clapped for him.

"Fuck," he gasped, still in shock, before stagehands began urging him to come forward and take his spot to accept the coveted award.

"Go on and give your speech," you chuckled, gently pushing him towards the stage while blinking away the tears threatening to mess up your makeup and, just before he took to the stage, he turned his head quickly to capture your lips for a fleeting second, leaving an imprint of adoration behind.

With shaking hands, he mounted the steps, greeted by rousing applause, and you leaned against the back of your chair, watching his every move as he accepted his award. 

"Fuck," was the first word that escaped his lips, causing the audience to laugh in response and his actor's instinct kicked in as he used his impromptu curse to deliver an exquisite speech that brought a tear to your eye. 

"I am clearly overwhelmed by all this. Thank you. Truly," he spoke, his voice shaky. "I first and foremost want to thank Chris Nolan and Emma Thomas for having faith in me and creating such a masterpiece. To the incredible cast, Robert, Emily, and the rest, thank you for teaching me so much about the craft. I can't believe I get to share a title with such incredible artists," Cillian said before his eyes drifted in your direction, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "And, of course, I want to thank my beautiful partner Y/N for supporting me through this in those last few months. You have pretty much been a single mother in the midst of award season, and I am so grateful that you are here with me tonight. To you, our daughter Mara and my son Max, I love you beyond words," Cillian said, his voice heavy with emotion, and it was then that your vision blurred with unshed tears.

He then proudly lifted his award into the air before humbly walking back to his seat, stealing a glance at you long enough to let you know exactly what he meant. 

"I am so proud of you," you whispered as he squeezed your hand again while, around you, murmurs originated from fellow celebrities congratulating him on his well-deserved win.

"This means a lot to me Y/N. Thank you for having been my rock those past few months," Cillian whispered back, his gratitude evident in the warmth of his touch. The intensity of his words caused your heart to flutter unexpectedly and, suddenly, everything around you became distant and muted.

Not too keen to attend the after party even following his success, when the show drew to an end, Cillian engaged in the necessary press engagements before suggesting that the two of you slipped away before everyone made their way to Vanity Fair. 

Together, you crept out into the night unnoticed, weaving your way through indulging crowds, gazing at each other, lost in all the nuances of the day that had unfolded—all the stolen glances between you both during the award ceremony, to the brush of his fingertips against your hand while trying to lead you through the venous crowds.

Eventually then, you arrived back at the hotel where Cillian's mother was watching Mara. She was already eagerly waiting your arrival and, as soon as Cillian walked through the door with the golden statute in his hand, his mother embraced him tightly. 

"I am so incredibly proud of you," she beamed while gripping his face, hardly believing her eyes. "Now you've got it all, a beautiful family and the biggest achievement of your career," she remarked, wiping a tear from her eye while looking at you and Mara.

"Thank you mum, and thank you for looking after Mara for us tonight," Cillian expressed graciously, managing a weak smile as he hugged her again.

Mara then squealed with delight, screaming, "Dada!" and you both looked at each other with great surprise.

"Did she just say daddy?" you gasped. You couldn't help but be utterly taken aback, finding yourself at a loss for words as you clutched Mara in your arms and buried your face in the nape of her neck.

It was the first time she had spoken and as you held her tightly, you couldn't help but feel a surge of love that coursed through your veins, rendering you dizzy.

You glanced up at Cillian as he stood there, flabbergasted.

"Dada!" she said again, reaching out for the golden statute jutting out from Cillian's grasp. He chuckled and carefully placed it away before picking Mara up and pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek.

"Hello Babygirl," he said, laughter dancing in his eyes, and the love in that moment was palpable between them, radiating with a warmth that touched your heart. "I missed you," he then said and your eyes welled up a little. It was moments like this that made you rethink the decisions you made several months ago and you knew that it was time for you to make another now. 

"I think maybe it is time for us to move in together now," you proposed to Cillian suddenly, as he looked at you with a gentle smile.

"It seems like two wins for me tonight then," he replied, taking your hand in his as Mara gurgled contentedly between you. He had waited for you to make this call for months now, ever since he first proposed it to you and now it was finally here.

To be continued...

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

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[nyrvietmblr]

Sweet moments || Mariona Caldentey

In the heart of Barcelona, Mariona Caldentey and Y/N shared a cozy apartment, the space decorated with hints of their personalities and shared interests. The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over your shared modest but charming home. The aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods lingered in the air, a remnant of the breakfast routine you both had together most days.

Mariona entered the living room, her hair still damp from a shower and a towel draped around her neck. She had just finished a morning training session, and her stomach was rumbling, reminding her that it was time for a quick bite before heading out for the day.

Spotting you lounging on the couch, absorbed in a book, Mariona’s eyes softened with concern. “Have you eaten today?” she asked, her tone a blend of casual curiosity and genuine care.

You looked up, momentarily startled from the random question. “No,” you answered honestly, a hint of embarrassment in your voice. “I lost track of time and just got caught up in this.”

Mariona’s expression shifted from mild surprise to a knowing smile. She crossed the room and pulled out a small snack box from her bag, the lid revealing a colorful assortment of fresh fruits and crackers. “Here,” she said, offering the box with a gentle smile. “I brought this just in case you forgot.”

Your face lit up with a mix of gratitude and affection as you accepted the snack box. “You’re a lifesaver,” you said, your voice warm. You reached for a piece of apple, savoring the crisp freshness.

Mariona settled beside you on the couch, a comfortable silence enveloping the room as you shared the simple yet satisfying snack. She watched with a soft smile as you enjoyed the food, the small moments of everyday life feeling even more special in your shared space.

“So, how was training?” You asked between bites, their eyes reflecting genuine interest.

Mariona shrugged, her smile widening. “Pretty good. We’ve been working on some new drills and strategies. It’s intense, but I think it’s going to pay off.”

You nodded, leaning in closer. “I’m sure it will. You always put in the effort and it shows.”

Mariona’s cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. “Thanks. It’s nice to have a cheering section.” She leaned back, your shoulders brushing lightly, the simple gesture filled with warmth and intimacy.

As the morning progressed, the city outside continued its bustling routine, but inside your apartment, the world seemed to slow down to just the two of you. You and Mariona shared stories and laughter, the snack box gradually emptying as you enjoyed each other’s company.

The connection between the both of you was effortless, built on a foundation of mutual support and affection. It wasn’t just about the big gestures or grand declarations; it was these quiet moments of caring and companionship that truly mattered.

By the time you two finished, Mariona leaned back, her eyes meeting yours with a look of contentment. “I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” she said softly.

You reached out, giving Mariona’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Thanks for taking care of me. It means a lot.”

Mariona squeezed back, her smile widening. “Anytime. That’s what girlfriends are for, right?”

You nodded, your eyes shining with affection. “Absolutely.”

As you both settled into your daily routine, the comfort of the shared space and the bond the two of you shared felt like a quiet promise of many more moments like this—simple, sweet, and filled with love.

A/N: Wowwwww…

[vendetta-if]

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays + Little Update 🎉

Hi guys! First of all, Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and Happy Holidays to all of you 🥰 I hope you guys have an amazing Christmas and are enjoying the Holidays!

Secondly, I'm sorry for the radio silence here. It's always a busy time for me around Christmas and the Holidays, plus, I've been working on the update too in the background. I'll start answering some asks again tomorrow 😁

And lastly, I have just released a two-part Extra Side Story to public and made them available for all of you guys. It's around 4.5K words in total split into two parts. It's not really Christmas-related, but it's kind of a continuation of Luka's and Jackal's backstory and how they got together. I'll link them below, at the end of the post! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Also, I recently opened a poll for the next side story. There are a lot of interesting ideas proposed. For those interested in casting your vote, the poll is available to vote by those in Morozov Enforcers tier and above. I also have a lot of other exclusive stuff available on both Patreon and Ko-Fi, so if you're interested in supporting me and getting some extra stuff on the side, please do consider checking the two pages out. Any support would be greatly appreciated 💖

Anyway, without further ado, here are the links to the Extra Side Story! Feel free to let me know what you guys think about it by sending asks or just commenting 😄Happy Holidays everyone! 🥂

One Autumn Morning 🍂🧡 [Part 1] | [Part 2]

Links to other Public Side Stories are listed in the post here! Feel free to check them out if you haven't! We've got an assortment of wholesome and angst there 😆

[fantastic-nonsense]

The 7 Wonder Woman plots:

Diana/the Amazons get framed for a violent crime, leading Diana/the Amazons to go rogue and become outlaws

Amazonia vs. Man's World (man-hater arcs)

Diana discovers other pantheons exist and chills with them instead of the Greeks for a few arcs

Diana becomes a goddess

The Amazons are massacred/Themyscira vanishes/Diana can't contact her Amazonian sisters and must take on Man's World alone

Diana vs. a random assortment of Greek deities, none of whom remain a stable presence in her Rogues Gallery between creative teams

Wonder Woman goes to space! And she may or may not get stuck there while negotiating peace between two warring species (despite that explicitly being the GLs' job to deal with)

7.5) and sometimes a random romance with Superman is there!

I swear I could make a bingo card of Wonder Woman plotpoints at this point. Put stuff like "the entire supporting cast randomly disappears and new radical supporting characters enter stage left" and "Diana starts carrying a sword for no reason" on there and I'd win within an hour

[fleouriarts]

time for a jamie and co LORE POST!!!! here's them with their (immediate) families. all the actual lore and such below

JAMIE: only child with a single mom. since furries in this universe can only have kids within their taxonomic families, adoption is really common among smaller families like prionodontidae. however jamie's mom erica really wanted a bio kid, so she ended up marrying another linsang who she liked... well enough, but not that much. they get divorced when jamie's a little kid. she had jamie at an older age; by the time he's in college her markings have already started greying, which is why she looks a little dull next to him. nowadays she works as a teacher and she loves her son vewy much :3

SANTIAGO: santiago is the only one in the main cast with different species parents. cross-species kids are just the species of either parent with a 50/50 chance cus i don't feel like dealing with hybrids... HOWEVER sometimes genetic fuckshit happens. because of said genetic fuckshit, santiago grew to a cow size instead of a sheep size. i couldn't fit all the family relations shit on the actual image but emilio is santiago's OLDER brother (hes 25) but people always assume hes younger because santiago is a giant. magnolia and amapola are twins and both 8. mariana is either a teacher or a librarian (haven't figured it out yet) but she used to paint when she had more free time which is how santiago got interested in painting and eventually went into fine arts. jorge is a plumber and emilio is a graphic designer. santiago is the first in the family to leave their hometown (key west) for a degree (emilio went to a local college) and his mom + sisters were SOOOOOOOOOO SAD so he comes home to visit as often as he can. also since he is in family bovidae he has several cousins/aunts and uncles/etc that are different species. all i know for sure is that one of them lives near jamie and co's college and is some sort of antelope (leaning towards bongo bc i like them). also using this poast to announce that i changed santiagos outfit here is his new cute flowers and bees sweater look

JOHNNY: her family works on a chicken (and other assorted birds) farm, the chickens are for both eggs and meat while the other birds are just for eggs. this is actually a common set-up in the dorian furryverse, it's hard to farm livestock as a carnivore (because all the livestock are deathly afraid of you) so herbivores usually do the job even if they can't actually eat what they farm. johnny's parents are sorta "confused but got the spirit" about her being a butch lesbian. jimmy is an ass about it but he gets better. shoutout to this horse color calculator for helping me figure out which coat colors were plausible for them

NULL: null has an older brother and does not talk to their parents. sakichi is six years older than null and they were never very close; their parents treated sakichi as the "successful" child and null as the "problem" child. they're also quite conservative. null realized they were agender in high school but stayed closeted at home, they planned to come out to their parents immediately once they got to college and were able to support themselves. something happens that instead makes them come out a few days after their graduation and they get kicked out. null doesn't know where to go and ends up living at johnny's farm for the summer before college (sakichi lives far away doing some tech job and so can't take them in). the clantons are basically null's family at this point. once null legally changes their name they remove their last name entirely (it probably says X on their documents just cus there has to be SOMETHING there). sakichi and null see each other very occasionally, and sakichi still talks to their parents, but only when absolutely necessary. it's not malicious, he'd just feel too guilty cutting himself off from them completely

ARGYLE: argyle is an only child with well-off parents, his mom is a lawyer and his dad is a quirky ancient history professor. his parents are like EXTREMELY doting so they were secretly kinda glad that he came back home so they could see him more often. argyle was really scared that they would hate him for going into a less stable field, but his parents love him to death and are ready to support him in whatever. suzanne was probably a nightmare at pta meetings i'll be so real

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Dethrone - Chapter 8

Warnings: 18+, fingering, bathing, someone gets punched in the face, training so swords, a massage?, Criston Cole appearance should be a warning fr Authors Note: couples who train together >>, this man would absolutely tease you before wrecking you Word Count: 4k

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

“Where are you off to so early, my love?” I peel my eyes open as Aemond softly gets out of bed. I wipe my eyes and roll over to admire him as he pulls on his pants. The sun is barely peeking through my balcony, the shadows casting beautifully across his figure.

“I’m off to go train for a bit. You can go back to bed and I’ll come wake you when I’m done.” he smiles lazily.

“No, I want to come with.” I start getting out of bed. “I haven’t trained since the day before I came to Kings Landing.” I begin walking over to my wardrobe.

“And what do you have to train for?” Aemond chuckles.

“Oh you know, war, rebellion, seizing the throne. Things like that.” I reply nonchalantly as I pull on a pair of my riding pants.

“Seizing the throne, hmm?” he smiles and walks over to me. “Careful, Your Grace, the walls have ears.” he smirks and kisses my forehead.

We finish dressing in silence listening to the birds sing outside of the windows. I’ve begun to picture us truly ruling together. My brain begins to plan and pave a path for us to take. I stop myself before I complete the thought because I wish to discuss it with Aemond and hear his input. When I finally look at Aemond he’s standing there watching me curiously.

“What are you so deep in thought over?” Aemond inquires.

“The walls have ears, Your Grace.” I reach up to whisper in his ear. “Let’s go train.” I say pulling him out of my chambers with me.

We start our walk down to the training yard in no rush. Hand in hand, just enjoying each other in the early morning. The hall remains quiet as we make it to the first floor.

“So it’s true then?” I hear Jaces voice from behind us.

“And what of it?” I ask turning around.

“I can’t believe you. Do you not remember anything Luke and I have told you over the years.” Jace questions voice getting louder as he storms toward us.

“Yes, I remember your triumphant story of mutilating him. How Strong of you to jump a family member with three extra people helping you.” I snidely reply turning around to walk away.

“What did you just call me?” Jace seethes grabbing my shoulder harshly, turning me to face him.

“What everyone can plainly see. Don’t ever place your hands on me again or I’ll give you a mutilation of your own.” I spit out ripping myself out of his grip.

“Easy my love, let’s go.” Aemond tries to usher me away from the escalating situation.

“So he speaks!” Jace barks out a laugh.

“Shut up and go cry to your mother.” I roll my eyes at him as I go to turn and walk away.

“I know you wish you could.” Jaces words slam into me.

Before they know what’s going on I’ve punched Jace hard on the right side of his face. I quickly bring my other fist up to land its twin mark on the left side. Jace stumbles backwards and is cradling his face on the ground.

“Don’t ever speak to me that way again.” I spit out as walk towards Aemonds outstretched hand.

“You’ll pay for this!” Jace shouts as he’s shuffling to his feet.

“No, I don’t think I will.” I hum grabbing Aemonds hand.

“You both are terrible and deserve each other.” Jace calls after us once more.

“Thanks for the support on our courtship!” I toss over my shoulder as me and Aemond exit the Keep.

“You’re quite the feisty one.” Aemond says squeezing my hand. “I’m looking forward to see how you do with a sword.” he says leading us to the weapons table.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to see me act like such a beast. Again.” I whisper trailing my hand down a blade.

“I quite like that you can handle yourself.” he replies grabbing a sword.

After looking through the assortment and weighing each blade, I settle on a dark blade that looks like it’s seen better days. I toss it from hand to hand getting used to its weight and balance and finally grip it in my right hand. The pommel is cold and smooth against my palm.

“Go easy on me, my Prince.” I bat my eyelashes across the circle at him.

“Blade up.” Aemond says deftly points his sword towards me.

I start off our dance with a quick swipe towards his center. He twirls around and avoids the blade continuously keeping his blade in front of him. He raises an eyebrow and goes for a slash on my left side. I breathe out a laugh and skip around him.

I face him again and smile keeping my blade in front of me. He juts forward and our blades meet in a loud clash. We each pull back and our blades meet once again. Regardless of where our blades go the other meets it. I huff out in annoyance and charge forward trying to catch him off guard.

Aemond launches himself away from my blade and meets it with his own. We continue in this dance until we come to a stalemate with blades at each of our throats.

“I won’t yield.” I pant out heavily, chest rising and falling deeply with each breath.

“I have all day.” He smirks down at me his breathing equally as ragged.

“It seems you’ve finally met your match.” A man with brown hair starts approaching us in the yard.

“Clearly I have.” Aemond says not breaking our eye contact and dropping his blade. “I yield.” he leans down and whispers in my ear.

“Wise decision.” I say haughtily twirling my blade back.

“This is Ser Criston Cole. He’s helped me learn all I know about fighting.” he says proudly.

“A pleasure, Princess.” he says bowing his head. “The Queen has requested both of you inside the Keep in her presence.” he turns towards Aemond.

“Good or bad?” Aemond raises an eyebrow at Ser Criston.

“She didn’t seem terribly upset, my Prince.” Cole says with no other context.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

After quickly changing Aemond leads us to his mother’s chambers. I don’t know why I’m so anxious, Alicent has been nothing but nice to me. Ser Criston offered us no other clues of what to expect which doesn’t offer any comfort.

“Relax, my mother already adores you.” Aemond hums squeezing my hand in his.

“We just did this so quickly and I don’t want her to think I’m disrespectful. What if Daemon was lying and didn’t do anything-“ I start to think the worst.

“Viktorya, my love, my mother will absolutely love you as much as I.” Aemond assures as we come to a stop in front of a large double set of doors and he knocks lightly.

“Come.” Alicent calls from inside. “Aemond, Viktorya!” she smiles when she sees us. “Please sit.” she says taking a seat of her own.

“Mother, how are you?” Aemond nods to her as he takes a place next to me on the couch.

“Excited, yet confused. I’m told you two have entered a courtship, by Daemon of all people. I see you two briefly, next I hear you’re on your way to Dragonstone.” Alicent says with motherly concern.

“It happened so quickly, I’m sorry, Your Grace.” I say looking down, hoping she won’t think poorly of me.

“Please call me Alicent. I’m not mad at either of you, I’m happy you’ve both found happiness, but I just like to be on top of court rumors and the conversation with Daemon was less desirable.” she says relaxing back into the chair.

“An opportunity presented itself for us to have Daemon support this courtship and we took it. I’m sorry we didn’t visit you before we left.” Aemond responds to her softly.

“I was worried about the both of you. How could I be sure you both weren’t slain and this was just a story to distract us.” her voice rises with worry.

“I’m sorry we frightened you. I just wanted to get it done before my father wanted to change his mind. I appreciate your worry for my well being.” I say warmly looking towards Alicent.

“Of course, my child.” she looks to me tenderly. “We have already begun preparing a feast in the honor of you both. Once the announcement is made we will finish preparing and show you both to the public.” Alicent says sharing the plans with us.

“That sounds lovely.” I respond smiling at her.

“Aemond, will you please wait out in the halls? I’d like to speak with Viktorya before you both leave.” she says dismissing Aemond.

“Of course. I’ll be right outside of the doors.” Aemond says kissing me on top of the head.

“I will support you in any decision, I just want to make sure you are truly interested in Aemond. He didn’t force this on you did he?” Alicent asks hushed looking at me intensely.

“I have never wanted anything more than this.” I tell her honestly. “He has been so very kind and caring. I hope to marry him someday.” I say my smile broadening.

“I’m glad.” her smile matches mine. “He does have a very gentle soul, deep down, and I’m glad you’re able to see that.” she seems to relax more.

“I also want to thank you for taking me in and allowing me to stay here. It is very generous of you.” I reply appreciatively.

“We are honored to have you. Should you need anything just ask.” Alicent smiles warmly. “Have Aemond show you my personal gardens, it puts the main gardens to shame.” she hums walking me to the door.

“Thank you, Alicent.” I smile softly as she pulls me into a hug.

She says a quick goodbye to Aemond and closes the door behind her leaving us alone. Aemond looks over my face searching for any negative change in my demeanor. Once he’s satisfied I am still in high spirits he smiles and pulls me against him in a tight embrace.

“She told me to have you take me to her gardens.” I hum wrapping my arms around him.

“Of course, this way, my love.” he whispers, his lips touching my ear making my shiver.

Aemond gives a small kiss to my neck and pulls back. He smirks at my red cheeks. He holds my hand and begins to lead us to Alicents private gardens. I take in the new parts of the Keep I haven’t seen yet and am blown away by its grandeur.

We exit through doors and are on the backside of the Keep on the Blackwater. There is a stone path for us to follow and it leads us through exquisite flowers and plants. It’s so tranquil and peaceful. There’s not a person in sight here to interrupt us.

We reach a gazebo near the shore that has vines and flowers growing all over it. Inside is a lounging couch and a table. The table was set for two with finger foods and drinks. Aemond smiles and pulls my chair out for me.

“Thank you, Aemond.” I blush sitting down.

“I love hearing my name on your tongue.” he hums sitting across from me. “What did my mother want to talk to you about?” he asks pouring us some wine.

“To make sure you didn’t kidnap me and force me into this.” I say sipping on the sweet wine.

“And what was your response?” he smiles at me.

“That I’m only in love with your fingers.” I chuckle as he coughs on his wine.

“Is that so?” he recovers clearing his throat. “You seemed to love my tongue too.” he jokes with me.

“You are not wrong.” I raise my glass to him. “I toast to your fingers and tongue, may they bring me pleasure for many years to come.”

“They shall bring you all the pleasure you desire.” he raises his glass back to me.

“I told your mother that I’ve never wanted anything more than you. That I love you and I always will.” my voice soft, void of all humor.

“I have loved you since I first saw you. I wanted to fall to my knees at the sight of you.” his words pierce me to my soul.

“I felt my life truly begin when I found you.” I breathe out deeply.

He gets up from his chair and offers me his hand. Aemond leads me to the lounging couch and we curl up together. We lay together comfortably watching the water and soaking in the sun.

“I will give you anything you want, just say the word.” he pulls me closer.

“Even the seven kingdoms?” I whisper, turning to look up at him.

“I will lay them at your feet, I promise this to you, my Queen, my Wife.” he says full of adoration and devotion.

Aemond dips down to my mouth and locks us in a passionate kiss. He pulls back and kisses my lips softly. He proceeds to place a kiss on my cheeks, eyes, and forehead. We sit there and admire each other for a couple moments.

“I wanted to ask you in a more grand way, but do you truly want to wed me?” he asks almost insecure.

“Aemond of course,” I smile widely. “It was always going to be you.” I say holding his face softly. “My beautiful Husband.” I murmur as I remove his eyepatch and softly kiss his scar.

We talk for hours lounging on the couch looking out at the bay. Aemond kisses me lazily and holds me almost possessively as if I’m going to be taken from him. He pulls me even closer to him when the temperature starts to drop.

“Let’s get inside before it gets too cold.” he says pulling me up with him.

We stop at the servants quarters to ask if they can bring up hot water for me to bathe along with some oils and herbs. Once we make it up to my chambers he closes the door softly behind me and pulls me into his arms once more.

“Do you wish to have the night with me again?” he asks affectionately looking at me.

“I never want another night without you.” I reply pulling him closer to me.

“Then I shall stay as long as you’ll have me.” he says leaning down to kiss me until, of course, there’s a knock at my door.

Aemond chuckles and walks to the door. He thanks the servants for bringing hot water and helps bring them into the bath. He thanks them again for the oils and herbs and kindly dismisses them. His manners to the staff don’t go unnoticed as they smile widely and bow.

“Do you want me to wait out here while you bathe?” he asks walking the basket into the bathroom.

“I was hoping for your hands. My muscles are sore from training.” I say biting my lip.

“Come here, my love.” he smiles holding his hand out to me. “It would be my pleasure to help you.” he pulls me toward him.

“Thank you.” I say softly as he pulls me flush against his body.

“Let’s get you in the water before it runs cold.” he says pulling back and turning me around to start unlacing my dress.

He has me out of my dress in seconds. He kneels behind me to slip my panties down and I step out of them. As he rises his fingers trail up the sides of my thighs. Once he reaches my hips he guides me to the bath and I slowly get in.

When I’m fully submerged in the hot water I let out a moan. I rest my head against the lip as I sink lower. Aemond brings over the basket and adds in some oil and herbs that smell divine. I slowly swirl my hand around the water mixing it in.

“Would you like me to wash your hair?” he whispers sitting behind me taking my hair out of the braid.

“Please,” I breathe out contently as he massages my scalp.

“Lean forward for me so I don’t spill the water.” he instructs grabbing a cup from the basket.

He slowly trickles the water on my hair trying to avoid getting it on my face. He begins to massage the soap into my hair and then delicately washes it out. Once he’s done he leans me back so I’m laying down once more. He allows me to relax while slowly brushing out my hair and adding an oil. He offers to give me a massage and helps me out of the water, wrapping me in a towel and ushering me over to the bed.

“Lay face down for me.” his voice low.

I lay down on the bed and turn my head to look at him. He goes to the basket and grabs some of the oil that was left over. He sweeps back over to the bed and brushes my hair off of my back.

“I’m going to have to remove the towel.” he says drawing patterns on my upper back sitting next to me.

“Then remove it.” I breathlessly reply and once the words leave my mouth he peels the towel off of me.

He sharply inhales and trails a hand down to my lower back. His touch is feather light making me squirm. I hear him chuckle and reach for the bottle of oil. When he pours some on my back I gasp at its coldness as it drips down my spine.

“I should’ve warned you.” I can hear the smirk in his voice as he uses his hands to spread the oil.

He slowly kneads at my shoulders making me groan into the pillow. He works his deft fingers down my spine, working the oil into my skin. His touch is feather light and continues slowly snaking down my spine. He rubs more oil into his hands in attempt to warm it up before he applies it. I gasp in surprise when each of his hands claim one of my cheeks and starts kneading my ass.

“You feel the muscles I’m massaging right? I’m not just doing this for pleasure.” he chuckles lowly as he applies more pressure.

“Yes.” I pant out. “Feels great too.” I say laying my head on the pillow slightly arching my back.

He hums at my response and focuses back on his task. He really starts kneading into my muscles that has me softly whimpering. Aemond slowly spreads my cheeks causing me to whine at the cold air that reaches my core.

“You’re practically dripping.” He ghosts a finger down my slit.

“Fuck Aemond,” I pant arching my ass up in the air for him.

“Viktorya, you’re killing me.” he rasps out placing a hand on my lower back and pushing me back down onto the bed.

“You’re the one teasing me.” I whine turning around taking in his flushed face.

“I feel like I keep taking advantage of you.” he whispers removing his hands from me.

“Gods Aemond.” I pout. “Just put your hands back on me. Your betrothed begs you.” I whine locking my eyes with him over my shoulder.

“If you insist.” he breathes out heavily as he returns to the massage once more.

I moan in satisfaction as he continues kneading my muscles. I relax more and his hands are once again journeying lower. I spread my legs just a little wider hoping he won’t notice my intentions.

“Who’s teasing now.” he chuckles giving a small spank to my right cheek.

His hands travel down my legs massaging my inner thighs avoiding where I want him most. His fingers get dangerously close to my core making me squirm in anticipation. My back is starting to arch off the bed again and I hear him growl.

He lifts my hips further off the bed and I feel him settle behind me. He kisses my inner thighs as they quake. He chuckles and I can feel his breath fan across my wetness. I feel him vanish and soon he’s pulling my back flush up against his chest.

“We have to finish your massage and stop getting distracted.” Aemond purrs kissing my neck.

“Aemond,” I say barely audible, turning my neck to give him more access.

“Hush,” he coos. “I can finish it from this position.” he says sucking on a particularly sensitive spot.

“Please,” I whine. “Please touch me.” I beg reaching for his hand.

“Anything you want.” Aemond hums bringing his hands up to my chest.

His hands start slowly kneading my breasts making me relax back into him. He massages into the muscles in my upper chest that turn me to jelly in his arms. My breathing turns ragged as he swirls his fingers underneath my breasts. My legs spread without my knowledge and Aemond takes this opportunity to coast one of his hands lower. His fingers are just about to reach where I need them the most when he moves his hand back up to my breast.

“Please Aemond,” I practically sob. “Plea- Fuck.” I cry as his fingers finally reach my clit.

“My betrothed is so needy.” he chuckles as he quickens his ministrations on my clit.

I can’t form any words as I focus on his skilled fingers. His hand that was teasing my breast finds its way to my throat and turns my face towards his. I moan as I take in his flushed face. He’s taken off his eyepatch and my legs try to shut around his hand.

His legs lace with mine to hold them open. His hand around my throat applies slight pressure as he brings his mouth to mine. I moan into his mouth and grind into his hand. He lets his fingers explore and one slowly dips inside me. I pull back breaking the kiss as a moan falls from my mouth. The hand around my throat leaves and makes its way to my abandoned clit.

“Shall I try two fingers tonight?” he kisses up my ear.

“Yes, yes, please,” I say lifting my hips to his hands.

Aemond slowly starts pushing two long fingers into me. I relax around them in complete bliss. He continues his circles on my clit as he starts to slowly pump his fingers. My moans become consistent and I’m squirming in his arms as he showers me with pleasure.

“Let me know if it’s too much.” he coos in my ear as he speeds up the pace.

His fingers are making obscene sounds as they pound in and out of me. My hands are gripping the sheets beside of me as I’m a morning mess and arching off his chest. He’s whispering in High Valyrian in my ear as the pleasure starts to become too much.

“Aemond, I- I,” I whimper and explode all over his fingers. He continues to pump his fingers in and out prolonging my pleasure.

“Beautiful.” he slows and removes his hands. He untangles our legs and pulls me against him in a hug. “You did so well. You were so good for me.” he hums kissing the side of my head.

He strokes my hair and continues to hold me until my breathing returns to normal. He slowly gets undressed and gets under the covers with me. He pulls me into him and peppers kisses all over my face making me giggle.

“I don’t know how we’re ever going to leave the bed after our wedding.” I say looking at him with sleep filled eyes.

“We can stay in bed as long as we please.” he chuckles.

[em-sars]

My Top 10 (actually 9) Dramione Fic Reccemmendations:

I am not a terribly avid reader of angst-filled fics (sorry, Manacled fans). This list will be mostly romcom / fluffy, major slow burns, and Draco POV. I have included a few more serious fics, but they are just so well written / interesting, that they made my list. Without further ado, and in no particular order, my Top 9 Dramione Fics:

1. To one one's surprise, and not being overhyped at all (I'm completely serious), is Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love. This one needs no description due to its popularity, so I will only add to the hype. I have always been a fan of adventure-romance (e.g. Romancing the Stone, Princess Bride, Stardust, Love and Monsters, Shrek, A Knight's Tale, and, not to get repetitive, The Lost City), but this was the first fanfiction I read with such dedication to an interesting, funny, and, at times, suspenseful story. I also love seeing Draco fall first and his unreliable narration in Hermione's feelings for him. I adore the characterization of / relationships between characters (not just Draco and Hermione) as well as the way the author develops the existing magic system. It is definitely a slow burn with misunderstandings. I'm not a big fan of misunderstandings after they are together because I think it's lasy, and I will stop reading it. In this fic, however, the author makes sure that the 'will they won't they' isn't over done.

2. A Cosmology of Blacks, Malfoys, and Assorted Individuals. This one is in process, but updates are consistent, and I am hooked. Draco POV only. Not only does this fic have the best name, it also includes many anecdotes of Black history (particularly focused on Narcissa, Andromeda, and Bellatrix) while also tying in a romance plot. The story begins with Andromeda confronting Narcissa, and the Black family to be reunited. Draco meets Hermione again for the first time post-graduation, but something is wrong with Hermione's magic. They slowly become friends and Draco develops feelings. This one is on the angsty side, but it's nothing dark or war-based. It is decidedly cosy. I absolutely love any fic that casts a parallel between Andromeda and Ted and Draco and Hermione (I also love supportive Harry who compares them to his parents).

3. The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy. This is another popular one that deserves the hype. This one was outside my comfort zone as it is fairly heavy on the angst. BUT I think it is a really imaginative retelling of DH. If you are unfamiliar, the author rewrites the end of HBP wherein Draco accepts Dumbledore's offer of help. He is then forced to accept the protection of people who hate him and whom he hates. This is a true Enemies to Friends to Lovers story. It has a mixed POV. This story is full of mystery, suspense, plot twists, romance, and angst. This is another one that explores the magic system in an interesting way.

4. It Happened in Egypt is another romcom adventure fic. It is funny, mysterious, and action-packed. In this story, Hermione is in Egypt on a 'holiday' and runs into Draco who is drunk and has been robbed (no wallet or wand). As the author says, this fic is a love story to the Nile and Egyptian Mythology. Great for history lovers. And while this story is a relatively quick burn, there is still a major chunk of mutual pining.

5. Scary Partner Privilege is another in progress piece, but it is so creative. It is Draco POV. He and Hermione (a no-nonsense-to-the-point-of-rudeness cop) are paired as elite aurors. Each chapter is a different case like in Brooklyn 99 or other cop shows with the overall plot of their tumble into romance. This Hermione is a complete BAMF, and Draco is a darling.

6. Distance is a split POV fic. Hermione is a new Unspeakable and Draco is an auror who hasn't been given a real case. They end up teaming up to investigate a mysterious magical figurine. Another adventure fic set in the Indus Valley. Such a fun concept. Another one that is a good read for history lovers.

7. Lavender Scones and Second Chances is the final in progress story I have on this list. This story is mostly here for vibes (cosy) because the research that brought them together is more periphery than anything. But it is still a sweet story that I am excited to watch develop.

8. Love and Other Historical Accidents is Jane Austen meets Harry Potter. Hermione and Draco get sent back to the late Georgian / early Regency period in magical Wiltshire. Lots of classic Austen tropes and plot lines. It is an established dynamic between them, and Draco is already in love with Hermione.

9. Soft As It Began is a unique story wherein Harry vanished the day after the Battle of Hogwarts. Almost 5 years later, Hermione, with help from Draco (they are investigative journalists), travels around Europe looking for him. This story plays with the story of The Three Brothers and the Deathly Hallows. I just love all the characterizations in this fic.

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣!⁠ ⁠ Hey adventurers!⁠ ⁠ I recently had the pleasure of making some bonus content for my friends at Worlds Beyond Number ( @worldsbeyondnumber ). If you haven't already heard of the podcast, it's a live-play game played by an all-star cast—Aabria Iyengar, Erika Ishii, and Lou Wilson—and led by the one and only Brennan Lee Mulligan. The campaign is already deeply beloved and filled with whimsy, heart, and personal growth—and it's just at episode 8!⁠ ⁠ The full art and cards (including some fun mechanics that were a blast to write), are available now for all supporters of the Saddlebag or Worlds Beyond Number on 𝘗𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘰𝘯! These magic items are an assortment of those found in their latest episode: "The Catch." It was a pleasure to make them!⁠ ⁠ You can (and should) listen to the podcast, if you haven't already started! It's available right now on Spotify, YouTube, or wherever you get your podcasts!⁠ ⁠ If you're already a supporter of the Saddlebag, you can get these *right now* at saddleb.ag/wbn!⁠ ⁠ Keep on adventuring!⁠ -g ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[delicatebarness]

caught in the storm | prologue

Summary: As your life faces unexpected changes, you must make difficult decisions for the future of the life inside you. Ultimately, finding yourself torn between love and the need for a better life.

Warning: Substance & Alcohol Abuse. Domestic Violent. Toxic Relationships. Pregnancy. Paranoia. Jealousy. Child Birth.

Word Count: 4757

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

A/N: This man will not get out of my head, so here you go. Again, this is another part of Prologue season so if you want to know what happens 15 years after this, you gotta let me know :D - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @mrsnikstan | @lanabuckybarnes

DAY ONE

The relentless bass thumped through your veins as the music pounded with your racing heart–flashes and flickers of neon lights cast erratic shadows over the crowded room. A red plastic cup was clutched in your hand, weaving through the gathering of people and its contents sloshing close to the rim. Alcohol and cocaine coursed through your system, heightening your senses, everything seeming sharper, louder, and more vibrant. 

A possessive arm was slung over your shoulders. Pete, who at twenty had a reckless confidence that came from his daily mixture of youth and drug abuse. With his wild and unfocused eyes, he leaned in close, muttering something incoherent into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. With a smile plastered across your face, you nodded. 

Stumbling into the kitchen, the countertop was littered with bottles, cans, and an assortment of substances. You heard someone call Pete, offering him a line, and he eagerly leaned over, snorting it up with practiced ease. You watched him, remembering the edge he had been on lately. His temper became more volatile, and his jealousy more intense. Shaking it off, you focused on the moment– his smile, the deeper shade of blue in his eyes. 

As you navigated back through the party, you felt the lingering eyes on you, leading to an instinctive, reassuring squeeze of Pete’s hand. The guys eyed you openly, and Pete noticed every single one. He clenched his jaw tightly, and though you tried to calm him with a hand to his chest, it was too late. He had already begun spiraling. 

“Oh my god, I love this song!” you exclaim, pulling Pete into a dance, trying to distract him. He barely heard you. His gaze darted around the room, and paranoia set in. You could sense it, the storm that brewed beneath the surface. 

“Who the fuck are you looking at?” Pete growled, his voice low and dangerous, directed to a guy nearby. You open your mouth to reassure and answer him, but with an iron grip on your wrist, he begins to pull you away from the crowd.

Before you know it, Pete is shoving you into a bathroom and slamming the door shut behind you. The noise of the party faded into a muffle, leaving the two of you in a tense silence. His eyes were now bloodshot with blown-wide pupils. His expression twisted into a mask of anger and fear. 

“Do you think I’m stupid?” he spat, pacing back and forth in the small bathroom. “Do you think I don’t see the way they look at you? The way you look at them?” 

“Pete, please,” you begin, trying to keep your voice calm and steady in an attempt to diffuse the situation. “No one’s looking at me. It’s just a party, it’s nothing.” 

“Bullshit!” he shouts, his fist coming into contact with the wall, making you flinch. The sharp tang of cleaning chemicals filled the air as it grew thicker with tension. You tried reaching out, tried to touch him, and ground him, but he swatted your hand away. His breathing ragged. 

“I can’t stand it,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “I can’t stand them looking at you, wanting you. You’re mine.” 

“I am,” you insist, tears welling your eyes. “I’m yours, Pete. Only yours… I love you.” 

Stopping, he started at you, and the anger in his eyes flickered. Something raw and desperate, replacing it. He took a step closer, cupping your face in his rough but tender hands.

“Prove it,” he whispered, a slight crack in his voice. “Prove you love me.” 

Nodding, you knew what he needed, what you both needed to keep the fragile peace between you. Lifting on your toes, you pressed your lips to his. The kiss was fierce, a declaration of your devotion. 

He responded hungrily, pulling your face closer. The storm was clearing as the kiss grew more intense. Your bodies pressed against each other in the confined space of the bathroom, the outside party fading further away. It was just the two of you locked in that moment of desperate passion. Pete’s hands moved to roam everywhere, rough and insistent, as if to claim every inch of your skin.

Yanking his shirt over his head, your fingers trembled over his skin. With an almost violent, raw need he teared at your clothes, hurried and uncoordinated. Suddenly, your back hit the cold tiles, making you gasp, but Pete’s lips swallowed your sounds as they met yours again. 

“Mine,” he growled against your lips, his fingers dug into the skin of your hips. “You’re mine.” 

“Yours,” you moan, tugging at his jeans. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he lifted you, pinning your body against the wall. You didn’t care about the pain from the force of his body pressing into you; you needed this. He fumbled with his jeans, pulling them down enough to free himself. 

You guided him inside you, and his moves became instantly frantic, a punishing rhythm. The roughness made you cry out, but a cry of pleasure. His hands tightened their grip on your hips, you knew there would be bruises in the morning. But it didn’t matter. With equal fervor, you met his thrusts, digging your nails into his back. Little red trails left in their wake. 

“Tell me you love me,” he demanded with a harsh whisper against your ear. “Tell me you’re mine.” 

“I love you, Pete Brenner,” you gasp, your voice breaking. “I’m yours.” 

Your words seemed to drive him, his movements became even more intense, jolts of pleasure being sent through you with each thrust. Clinging to him, your bodies moved in a desperate dance for each other. The tension built, coiling tighter until it snapped. 

With a cry, you came apart, your body shuddering against his. A few short moments later, he followed. His nails dug into your soft skin as he let out a low, guttural groan. After a moment, he lowered you to the floor. You both stood panting, trembling. He rested his forehead against yours, desperate eyes searching yours for reassurance. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice broken. “I just can’t stand the thought of losing you.” 

“You won’t,” you promised, tracing patterns along his chest. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Helping each other dress, you stole rough, urgent kisses– almost as if you were trying to reassure each other that you were still there, still together. Stepping out of the bathroom, the noise crashed back around you but Pete held onto you.

For now, you had each other, and that was enough.

~

TWO WEEKS LATER

The harsh fluorescent light made everything feel surreal. Your usual mess cluttered the small space: makeup, hair products, and a full range of skincare items scattered around the sink. But at that moment, it all felt inconsequential compared to the little plastic stick on the floor next to you. 

You hadn’t been feeling well for a few days– nauseous, tired, and unable to focus. Firstly, you chalked it up to being the usual post-party hangover. Yet, when the symptoms didn’t leave, a gnawing worry took root in your mind. You picked up a pregnancy test at the drugstore on a whim, thinking it was only to rule out the possibility. Now, as you sat on the cold floor, waiting for the results, you realized how much hinged on that tiny piece of plastic. 

The second began to feel like an eternity, and your heart pounded in your chest. You noticed your reflection in the full-length mirror, anxiety etched on your face. It was supposed to be just another fun night, another ride with Pete. But, if the test was positive…

The timer on your phone buzzed, jolting you back to reality. Taking a deep breath, you felt a knot of dread tighten in your stomach. Slowly, you picked up the test, your hands trembling. 

Two lines. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered. A thousand thoughts raced within your mind, colliding all at once. You’re pregnant. You. Pregnant. The reality hit you like a freight train, you felt breathless and dizzy. 

Standing on shaking legs, your gaze shifted back to the counter, where lines of coke had neatly been arranged. A small reminder of the life you’ve been living for the last year; the parties, the highs, the reckless abandon. Now, everything was different. You were no longer just responsible for yourself. 

You reached out, your hand hovering over the rolled-up dollar bill. The temptation was strong, a familiar need, desperation to escape and numb the overwhelming emotions surging through you. Then, something stopped you. The thoughts of what damage it could do, not just to you, but to the tiny life inside you. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled your hand back. This wasn’t about you anymore. You had to be stronger, better– for the baby. 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Thinking of Pete, his wild eyes, his tight grip, his temper. How would he react? What will this mean for both of you? Wiping your tears, you carefully clean away the lines of coke, flushing the remnants down the toilet. A small step, but an important one. 

~

EIGHT WEEKS LATER

In a blur of secrets and growing anxieties, the weeks pass. You had stopped drinking and snorting coke, opting for water at the parties, and trying to stay away from the substance tables. Thankfully, Pete had yet to notice. Too wrapped up in his own constant highs and the cycle of coke and chaos managed to keep him distracted. Under loose clothing, a small curve of a bump was just beginning to show, and it wouldn’t be much longer until it was undeniable. 

That night was no different– another party in full swing, with loud music and dim lights. By now, you had perfected an art of blending in, a red cup filled with water in one hand, and making small talk. All the while you tried to keep a wary eye on Pete, who was already high as a kite as he moved through the crowd. 

You felt his eyes on you, a sense of unease creeping in while you chatted with a friend. Turning slightly to see him watching you, you noted the dangerous glint in his eyes and his jaw clenched. And, before you could react, he was by your side, gripping your arm with a bruising force.

“Come on, Princess,” he growled, pulling you away from the crowd. His grip tightened as you tried to protest, but you knew better than to argue in front of others. Leading you out the back door, the cool night air hit you, and once again the sounds of the party faded. You were left alone with him, under the stars.

With shaky hands, Pete pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Taking a deep drag, his eyes never left yours. “What the fuck is going on with you?” he demanded, his voice low. 

“Nothing, Pete,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, stopping your hand instinctively resting on your stomach. “I’m just trying to enjoy the party.” 

“Fuck you,” he snapped, blowing smoke into the night. “You’ve been acting weird for months. You’ve avoided me, you’re drinking water. What’s going on?” 

You had been dreading this moment, but there was no turning back. Taking a deep breath, you sighed. “I need to tell you something,” you say with a trembling voice. 

He narrowed his eyes, suspicion and anger flickered across his face. “Who is he?” Pete’s accusation hung in the air. His eyes bore into yours, searching for any hint of betrayal. 

“What? No! Pete, it’s not what you think,” you stammered. You could see the storm, beginning to once again brew within him. His fist clenched and unclenched, his body tensing as if ready to lash out. “There’s no one else, Pete. I swear.” 

Taking another drag of his cigarette, the ember glowed ominously in the dark. “What what is it? What the fuck are you hiding from me?” 

You searched for the right words, your heart pounding in your chest. A ticking time bomb and you weren’t sure how much time you had before it exploded. “I-I’m pregnant.” 

The words spilled out, and at that moment, the world seemed to stop. You could almost see the gears turning in Pete’s mind, he stood frozen, his eyes widened: Disbelief, shock, and then anger. 

“What?” his voice was barely above a whisper, but you did not miss the lace of venom. “You’re pregnant?” Another drag. “You’re fucking with me,” he continued, his voice carrying a coldness, now. “This is just another bullshit excuse.” 

“I’m not lying, Pete,” you insisted. “I’m pregnant, and I didn’t know how to tell you.” 

Shaking his head, he threw the cigarette onto the ground, grinding it under his heel. His eyes locked back onto yours as he stepped closer, nicotine, alcohol, and anger mingling in the air between you. “Prove it,” he demanded, anger and desperation rising in his voice. 

Your hands trembled as you reached for the hem of the oversized t-shirt, you took from his wardrobe. The fabric suddenly felt heavy in your grip. And slowly, you began to lift it, revealing the soft curve. The night sky barely illuminated the slight swell, the small sign of the life growing. His gaze flickered down.

Instead of the recognition or understanding that you had hoped for, his expression hardened. “You just look bloated,” he spat, his words sharp, cutting into the fragile moment. 

“Pete, please,” you whispered, tears beginning to well in your eyes as you lowered the shirt. “It’s real. I’m pregnant, I’ve got the tests to prove it.” 

His gaze remained locked on your midsection. “Show me,” again, he demanded, the venom dripped from his lips. 

Once back in your dorm room, you could feel Pete’s eyes burning into your back. The room was small and cluttered, college life evident in the clothes strewn and textbooks piled. Opening your closet, you pulled out a small shoebox hidden under sweaters. 

Turning back, Pete’s expression was a mixture of skepticism and curiosity as you took a seat next to him on the bed. Setting the box on the bed, you opened it and revealed a collection of pregnancy tests. Each one was marked with the unmistakable mixture of two lines, plus signs. 

“I’ve been taking them over the last couple of weeks,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “I needed to be sure. I needed to know it wasn’t a hallucination, not just an effect of the drugs.” 

Pete stared at the tests. Picking one after another up, his face went pale and his hands began to shake. “This is real?” he muttered, questioning himself. “This is happening?” 

“I’m scared, Pete,” you admitted, tears spilling down your cheek. “It’s real, and I’m terrified.” 

Finally looking up at you, you met his gaze, his eyes wide and vulnerable. You had never seen this in him before. “I’ll be better,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ll stop it all, I promise. I’ll be here.” 

At that moment, you believed him. Clinging to him, the warmth of his broad body was a small comfort against the uncertainty. Yet, there was still a seed of doubt remaining deep down. 

~

FIFTEEN WEEKS LATER

There was a glimmer of hope, you witnessed Pete trying to cut back on the drinking drugs. Yet, as the months went by, his promises faded. The allure of the high was too strong, and his habits quickly resurfaced. He went back to the parties, and in doing so, his fits of jealousy and anger returned. Your heart sank every time you saw him with a bottle or a line. 

You found him one night in the very bathroom where your unborn child was conceived, a line of coke on the counter. His eyes were red and haunted. A knot of dread tightened in your stomach as he met your gaze. “What’s your problem?” he snapped before snorting the line. “Why are you always watching me?” 

“You promised, Pete,” you say, trying to keep your voice calm.

“Yeah, well, it’s not that easy,” he growled, sniffing and wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “You don’t get it.” 

“I do get it,” you say, running a hand through your hair. “You have to think about our baby, Pete.” 

Scoffing, he stepped closer, trapping your body between him and the cold tiled wall. “You and that fucking baby,” he muttered, his body looming over yours. “I can’t deal with this right now.” 

After that night, Pete passed out in a drunken stupor in his apartment. You decided you couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep holding onto the hope he’d change when it was clear he had no real intentions to. You had to think about your future and the future of your child; with or without him. 

You packed a bag that night, quietly moving while your heart pounded. Afraid of him waking up and stopping you. Writing a note, your hands shook: “I’m sorry, Pete. I love you, but I need to think about our baby. I’ve got to leave and go back to my parents’ house. I hope one day you can find the strength to change. X” 

Slipping out of his apartment, the weight of your decision pressed down on you. The city lights blurred through your tears as you took a cab back to your parents’ house. As you pulled up outside your childhood home, your mom opened the front door, her face etching with concern. 

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” she asked, wrapping her arms around you, and pulling you into an embrace. 

You broke down, tears flowing freely. “I can’t do it anymore, Mom.” you sobbed. “I-I left Pete, I need help.”

~

NINE WEEKS LATER

Your stomach grew rounder as you settled into a new sense of peace at your parents’ house. And, with it, your determination to provide a better life for your baby. Contact with Pete had been cut completely, you ignored his calls and messages. Only sending him relevant information like when your scans were, in case he wanted to be there. He never came. 

One afternoon, your mom threw you a baby shower brunch. Your friends and family gathered in the backyard, laughter and the smell of fresh flowers filled the air. Surrounded by people who loved and supported you, and their excitement for your baby was contagious. 

Suddenly, there was a knock at the front door. Looking around, the sound immediately sent your heart racing. Something in your gut knew it was him before you even opened the door. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice low but urgent as you stepped out onto the front porch, closing the door behind you. 

There was a mixture of desperation and something else, something almost broken in his wide eyes. His eyes roam from your shoes and up your legs, and then they linger for a moment on your stomach before meeting your eyes. “Can we talk?” his voice hoarse. 

“Pete,” you glanced back through the glass on the door, your heart pounding. “This isn’t a good time.” 

“When is a good time? You haven’t answered my calls in two months,” his voice cracked, and you could see the raw emotions in his eyes, the plea in every fiber of his being. “Please, Princess, just five minutes.” 

You shook your head, the lingering feelings you had for him had you torn between the fierce protectiveness you felt for your unborn child. “I-I can’t, Pete, it’s not a good idea.” 

“What do you want me to do? Get down on my knees? I will, I’ll get down on my knees for you,” he says, his voice trembling with desperation. And, before you could stop him, he’s on his knees. 

Right there, on your parents’ front porch, Pete Brenner had his hands clasped in front of him as if in prayer. “I will change, Princess. I promise, you,” he pleaded. 

Panic rose as you looked around, checking to make sure no one was watching this. The last thing you needed was for your family and friends to see Pete like this– coked up and on his knees. “Please, get up, Pete,” you whispered urgently, glancing back toward where everyone was gathered. “I’ll listen, Pete, please just get up off the floor.” 

He didn’t move, tears brimming in his bloodshot eyes as they locked onto yours. “I’ll change,” he repeated, his voice barely audible. “I need you, I just need you.” 

“Pete, you’re coked up right now,” you said, your heart aching even as your voice hardened. 

Your words caused him to flinch, but he didn’t break eye contact. “I had to see you,” he replied, his voice shaking. “I just needed the courage to get here.” 

“And yet you thought, the best way to do that was to snort that shit and then show you at my fucking baby shower?” your words caught in your throat. 

Pete finally stood, unsteady on his feet as you both stared at each other. The tension between you grew thick, as the air mixed with emotions that neither of you could fully articulate. 

His eyes searched yours desperately. “I just– I just want to talk,” he repeated once again. “To know… I’m still a part of this.” 

“You haven’t been a part of anything, you missed every scan,” you snapped, the hurt and anger you managed to bury for months started to bubble to the surface. “You never showed up. Not once, Pete.” 

“I know, I know,” he quickly said, running a hand through his grown disheveled hair. “I fucked up. But, I’m here now. I want to make this right.” 

The front door swung open before you could respond, and Michelle, your best friend stepped out. Her expression immediately hardened when she saw Pete and his state. 

“Oh great, crackhead is here,” she snaps, crossing her arms, and glaring at him.

“Michelle, as charming as ever,” Pete scoffed, his voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Fuck off, Pete,” Michelle snapped back, stepping closer. She placed herself between the two of you, her body language reflecting her protectiveness. 

“Mich–” you started, trying to diffuse the situation, but she cut you off.

“She doesn’t want you here, dipshit,” Michelle said coldly, her eyes narrowing at Pete.

“She doesn’t, or you don’t?” Pete fired back, his anger rising the longer he remained in her presence. 

“Both, now leave,” her tone left no room for argument, as she stared him down. 

He took a step forward, his jaw set tight, and fists clenched to his side. “Or what? What are you going to do if I don’t?” he challenged, his low voice threatening. 

“Will both of you just stop, please?” you finally shouted, your voice broken through their standoff. You had been trying to keep your emotions in check, yet the stress of the situation all came spilling out. “This isn’t helping anyone, especially not the baby.” 

Turning to you, Michelle’s face softened slightly. “Be honest, do you want him here?” 

Your gaze locked with Pete’s, his eyes filled with desperate hope. “Princess…” 

The truth was, a part of you did want him there. This moment was one you had imagined countless times– Pete by your side, the two of you figuring parenthood out together. But another part of you, the part that endured the pain and disappointment, knew that this wasn’t the time for children’s fairy tales. 

“Please, Pete, just go,” you sighed, a slight tremble in your voice. “I promise, I’ll call you later. Just… please let me have this one day.” 

Pete’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and he took a step back, his eyes never leaving yours. “Boy or girl?” he softly asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” you asked, thrown by the sudden question. 

“What is my baby’s gender?” he repeats, sorrow filling in his eyes, cutting right through you. 

Swallowing hard, the lump in your throat made it difficult to speak. “I-I don’t know, I didn’t find out. It didn’t feel right to find out without… you.” 

For a silent moment, his gaze lingered on your stomach. His eyes flickered with sorrow and hope as they glanced back toward yours. “Promise me, you’ll call me?” 

“Pete,” you began, your tone softer as you tried to balance the tenderness you felt and the boundaries you had to maintain. “I promise you, once this is over and everyone leaves, I’ll call you.” 

“Tonight?” His voice cracked, desperation still clinging to his words.

“Yes, tonight,” you assured him, your voice firm even though your heart raced. 

Seemingly to accept your promise, he nodded slowly, yet you could see the struggle in his eyes. He turned and began walking down the driveway, each step heavy with the reality of his situation. Upon reaching the gate, his hand rested on it for a moment, as though he was gathering the strength to leave. 

Before he stepped through, he turned back toward you, his voice remained low. “I love you,” he spoke, the words hung in the air, raw and real. 

“Pete…” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You couldn’t find the courage to say it back– not now, not like this. Instead, your eyes bore into his, neither of you moving. 

~

SIX WEEKS LATER

In the throes of labor, the room was bright and sterile. There was a beeping from a machine, constantly reminding you of the life about to enter the world. Your mom was by your side, holding your hand as she whispered encouraging words. Waves of contractions made you grit your teeth, but yet even through the intense pain, your thoughts kept drifting back to Pete.

“Has anyone got a hold of Pete?” you asked between breaths, worry filled your eyes as you looked up at your mom. 

Squeezing your hand, her face was a mask of calm. “I don’t know, Sweetie. I told your father to contact him, but I can’t be sure.” 

Nodding, you tried to focus. You believed Pete had a right to be there, but the uncertainty around if he would show gnawed at you. Minutes turned into hours, and your labor dragged on, exhaustion settling in. With every passing moment, your hope diminished. 

“What if he’s not coming?” you whispered, as tears mingled with your sweat. 

“You’re doing amazing, Sweetie,” your mom said gently, brushing your hair back. “Keep focus on the baby.” 

Just as you were about to give up hope, the door to the delivery room burst open. Disheveled and out of breath, Pete rushed in, his eyes wide with fear and determination. “I’m here!” he exclaimed, looking around frantically until his eyes landed on you. 

“Pete?” you gasped, relief and surprise flooded through you. 

Rushing to your side, he took your other hand in his. “I’m so, so sorry I’m late, Princess,” he said, his voice catching as he tried to catch his breath. “I came as fast as I could.” 

In that instant, the tension between you melted away, and the only thing that mattered to you was that he was there. Leaning in closer, he rested his forehead against yours as he whispered, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

As another contraction hit, you squeezed his hand hard, a cry forcing its way out of your throat. Pete didn’t flinch; he stayed holding onto you, grounding you in ways you hadn’t expected. 

Finally, the moment came. One last agonizing push and the room was filled with the sharp, piercing cry of your baby. Relief, joy, and exhaustion hit you all at once. You collapsed back against the bed, tears and sweat continuing down your face, 

“It’s a boy,” the doctor announced, holding up the tiny, squirming bundle. 

As you looked at your son for the first time, your breath hitched. Pete’s grip tightened as he stared at him with wide eyes, awe, and disbelief mixed in his expression.

“You did it, Princess,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as the nurse brought your son over, placing him gently on your chest. The warmth of his body against yours, you could feel his tiny heartbeat, and the reality of what you had gone through started to sink in. 

Pete leaned in, and his other hand reached toward your baby’s tiny fingers. “Welcome to the world, little guy,” he said, his voice full of wonder.

And in that moment, everything was perfect.

---

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