#and how much more difficult she makes everything

[vaguely-concerned]

huh. you know something I just consciously put together for the first time about caterina and lucanis' relationship is that through the game we get to hear them talk about each other a lot, but we get very few chances to hear them speak with each other at any length at all. contrast it with other companions whose storylines have elements of 'believed lost/long time no see relative returns!' like bellara and davrin, where we get to see both of them have several pretty in-depth conversations with cyrian and eldrin. hell I think even rook talks with varric longer in the regret prison scene than we ever get to see lucanis and caterina interact directly.

(and when we do see them interact, it's mostly one-sided -- it is, perhaps unsurprisingly, caterina who is doing most of the talking and giving all the orders, as he ruefully observes is her wont after murder of crows. including jumpscaring him with 'you're first talon now btw' and the shocked pikachu face in five acts he goes through in response lmao. perhaps it's more accurate to say that she talks at him and he reacts, than that they talk to each other much.)

it has such an interesting effect too, because in deliberately denying us direct insight or experience and only having this mosaic of description from each of them to go on, as well as forcing us to pay attention to the negative space of what is carefully not said, it's evocative along the same principle that you never actually show the monster in a horror film. if you've read the wigmaker job you have a clearer image of the more uh. worrying elements at play here going in, but there is something fascinatingly insidious and naturalistic in the way it's 'hushed up' in the game itself. she has his complete loyalty both as a member of her house and, more importantly, that of an abused child to a parent figure. he readily admits several times that she's a difficult person to live with, an even more difficult person to be loved by ("even for me. and I was her favourite")... but never once does he actively blame her nor truly conceptualize that he has every right to do so (that he can be angry with her and still love her, because whether he should or not he unavoidably does), or that she might have acted differently than she did, that she made a choice every time to hurt him. even affectionately he speaks of her as a force of nature, an act of god -- something that can't be reasoned or pleaded with or resisted, something you can only hope to navigate with as little pain as possible and pray to survive. let yourself get carried away by the riptide, resisting it will only make it worse. you don't compromise with a hurricane, you just try to find the best shelter you can and cross your fingers while you wait for it to pass and be calm again.

love is that hurricane. you do whatever she asks. you earn her continued affection day by day by never letting her down. you only want the things she tells you it's okay to want and cut everything else away preemptively. ("A wyvern tooth dagger?? I loved wyverns as a boy --Caterina would never let me have one of these, though." and as we have all wept and gnashed our teeth over, it never even OCCURS to him that he's a like thirty-five year old adult man who can buy himself any dagger he wants at any time. she said he couldn't have one. so he'll never have one. that's just how it works. and maybe if Illario could just accept that and find his peace with it like I have, this whole thing wouldn't be so difficult. oh lucanis.)

such is the price -- and the cost -- of being loved by her, it's a loan on which the interest will never stop piling up. you have to keep paying it down in perfection every day if you want to keep it. who got the worse deal there: the grandson who has abandoned everything else in life to live up to that and mostly succeeded, until the day he's so burned out and broken it threatens to no longer be an option, or the grandson who can never seem to scrape together enough worth in her eyes no matter how he begs, borrows or steals it, how he hustles and plays dirty?

one of the worst things that can happen to anyone is to be loved by a selfish god. another one of the worst things that can ever happen to anyone is to not be loved by a selfish god. (hope that helps, boys!) even in betraying everything else, Illario can't bring himself to hurt his grandmother, because that would defeat the whole point. who would he defiantly be proving himself worthy to, without her. in love, devotion, submission, hatred, frustration, bitterness, everything is defined in relation to her, you can spot the gravitational force of it through how the dellamorte family move through time and space. she -- her love and regard and attention -- is still the sun both of their worlds orbit around, even as adults. the game might never tell you outright 'she used to beat and starve them growing up. for their own good you see, so they'd be strong (and broken down enough for her to build them up again however she wanted but I'm sure that's incidental)', but if you know even a little bit about how these dynamics can work the writing is on the wall everywhere you look and all the more unsettling for it.

follow lucanis' freeze-logic and fraught interpersonal catch 22 irreconcilable mixed emotions problems back far enough, looong before the ossuary entered the picture, and you start to see caterina's ghost around every fucking corner. she is so proud of him. (well, she would be. she made him. she forged exactly the knife she needed and it rests willingly, devotedly, in her hands, it would return to her every time because it doesn't know love as anything but to be a knife. his tama never taught him how to be anything else. his biggest fear with her is that she won't even want him back, the way he is now.) to the best ability of her soul, whatever parts of it survived a lifetime of crow politics and 'five children, eight grandchildren, only Illario and me left now', I think she really does loves him. he certainly loves her, with all the sincerity and artless desperation of a child, of the little boy he was once. and what she's done to him (and to illario, for all his shitty gremlin scar-ass antics lol) is awful. the harm is real, and the love is real, and trying to find a way for these two truths to exist in the same space is driving all three of them their own individualized forms of insane. you know. the way only family can and so often does lol.

through implications and short glimpses and having to put the pieces together yourself, you can have the feeling that there is very genuine mutual love and attachment in this relationship... and that beneath that there is something so profoundly wrong. and the sneaking '...oh shit it gets worse the longer I think about it' horror of that is more effective for me at least than the stark in-your-face presentation of the facts of the matter could have been. the love is here. the love is here. it only ever makes it worse.

[apparitionism]

Real

Can’t believe tomorrow is a particular Wednesday already; this season has rushed in like the most foolish of fools, and as a result I’m rushing to push out this new holiday story... because I too am a fool. This is set post-series (including the nonexistent season), though not by much, as the first little bit will make clear. It’s kind of all about fallout. And who wants what, and why, and whether they’re willing to work, wait, and do other things that probably start with “w” to get it. Anyway, season’s greetings to all—and to all (including, eventually, Myka and Helena, I promise) a good night.

Real

“She’s back,” Artie announces one autumn night, and before anyone (Myka) can fully register what that might mean...

...she is.

Is, is, is... a distillation of so much of what Myka instantaneously knows again as possibility, as hopes and wishes jolting back to life, as again (still) the only presence that instantly makes Myka aware of herself as a body, one that responds with barely controllable fervor to that presence—that other body.

Artie goes on saying words, “reinstated” and “agent” among them, but the roaring of Myka’s blood drowns them out.

She fears she will spontaneously combust. She would rather spontaneously combust. That would be better than having to consciously keep from spontaneously combusting, in response to Helena existing, to her moving and speaking, in a proximity that Myka should prize but that her body, fervently responding, informs her is completely insufficient.

Myka escapes as soon as she can, to sit in the dark of her room, to sit and process, but her usual, reliable processing processes fail her.

They always have, where Helena is concerned.

All she does is sit, empty but for the replaying of Helena’s entry into the dining room, her stride so sure, her aspect so unlike the dismissive, shrinking shrugs of Boone... that had sent Myka’s soul soaring.

Helena had greeted them all with good humor, her manner and words to everyone so convivial. So convivial, but also: to everyone, and that is what finds clawed purchase in Myka’s heart, here in the dark.

Here in the dark, Myka viciously tells herself that she deserves no special acknowledgment. Why would you?

She also tells herself, This will get easier.

****

In some ways it does. For example, Myka’s shock at, and subsequent need to recover from, each new sight of Helena lessens somewhat. Or maybe it’s that her body becomes accustomed to absorbing the impact.

In others, it profoundly doesn’t.

Case in painful point: one evening when they’re all cleaning up after dinner, Claudia says to Helena, “So can I ask you something?”

“Clearly you can. You just did,” Helena bats back, in play, and envy stabs Myka.

“You’re as bad as Artie,” Claudia groans. “But here goes: are you still seeing that lady?”

Terror appropriates envy’s knife, gashing anew. Myka has not let herself begin to imagine how to get such a question answered, and here Claudia just says it while lowering a stack of dirty plates into the sink.

Helena’s airy reply: “Still the case. Obviously we’re long-distance at the moment.”

Something previously un-knifed in Myka collapses at that “obviously.” Obviously. Obviously. Obviously, the Warehouse return had not entailed a renouncing of Helena’s non-Warehouse connections. As Myka had obviously, she now sees, believed—hoped!—it would.

The depth and breadth of her error sends her to her room again, lightless, wounded, empty, waiting for time to pass until she once again has something to do.

Such as a retrieval with Pete.

The next one of which proceeds well—it’s not a big, dangerous deal, but rather a matter of a sad, not villainous, loner seeking connection via an artifact-compromised comic-book message board. Pete’s his enthusiastic self about the comics of it all, and Myka lets it lull her into a near-trance of this is how it used to be, before everything.

Until they’re on the plane home, when Pete says, “So H.G.’s back.”

“Thanks for the update,” she says, bracing herself, because of course that won’t be all, because that would be too easy.

“And what about that girlfriend?”

“What about her?” Well, that was stupid: asking some reflex question she doesn’t want answered. She braces herself again.

“You think she’s her one?”

That’s worse than she’d imagined. Myka doesn’t want to go anywhere near that Schrödinger-box, for fear that peeking inside would reveal a very dead cat. Would in fact be the deciding factor in that cat’s demise.

After a stretch of silence, Pete says, “Bet she’s not. So what are you gonna do about it?”

What does he mean? Do about the girlfriend not being, or being, Helena’s one? Do about Helena being back in the first place? She would rather avoid nailing that down—another let’s-not-look Schrödinger box.

“I’m going to ignore it,” she says.

“That’s not healthy. I mean, I get it, but it’s not healthy.”

He coughs ostentatiously. Meaningfully? Myka doesn’t know. Can’t tell. Won’t ask. She hates how she feels compelled to leave this cat in limbo too, just so she can shift away from any potential situational consequences.

If only she had resisted the pressure to shift her definition of love.

She tries for resistance now, even though it’s too late: “I’m not going to try to keep her from doing what she wants to do.”

He cocks his head in that exaggerated what-are-you-saying way. “I thought you might though. Try.”

Myka is tempted to demand, “Why would you think that,” but she knows why he would think it, and revisiting that fight is an impossibility. Especially now.

“But you’re not trying,” he says. His tone, though, ratchets down the danger. It’s a relief. “So why not?”

Now Myka’s tempted to give some indignant “I don’t have to justify my behavior to you” answer... and yet. She does owe him more than that. Especially now, having misled him so severely before, she owes him some decent measure of honesty. So she says it as plain as she can: “Because people should do what they want to do.”

“Huh.” He puts on his “thinking” face—the real one, not the cartoon. “But you’re not doing what you want to do.”

“What?” Myka says, playing dismissively dumb. Hoping he’ll give some dumb response.

“You want to stop her doing what she’s doing.” Myka shakes her head at that, trying to pretend it’s dumb, but Pete rolls his eyes. He sees the weakness. How can he be getting her so right in this when he got her so so so wrong before? But then again she’d got herself wrong... “So why wouldn’t you do what you want to do?” he finishes.

Want, want, want. Myka wishes he would quit using the word.

Yes it’s her fault for using it first. Yes she should have shut him down forcefully to begin with. Yes that applies to situations preceding this one.

In any case, wanting is pointless. It literally does not matter: its only product is empty space, a horrific gaping sink, a vacuum as vast as space itself.

So she says, as pedantically as she can, “Because if one person’s wants affect another person’s wants, that’s a different category of... you know what? Never mind.”

“You only ever say ‘never mind’ when you know I’m right.”

“What? I say ‘never mind’ a lot.”

“Which means...” He taps his temple.

“No. No it does not.” But she does smile.

Pete bobs his head as if she’s actually agreed with him, and so they end on a familiar, jokey note. It’s far better than they could have managed some months ago, in the immediate aftermath of their... mistake? Misunderstanding? Mismanagement? Misadventure? Misapprehension?

Stop dictionarying, she tells herself. Despite its being one of her default ways of trying to process confusion, it rarely delivers the clarity she seeks. At any rate, their short-lived whatever-it-was was a mis-everything.

She takes out the book she’s brought with her, H Is for Hawk, so as to fill her head with Heather MacDonald’s solitude rather than her own. She has lately found that overlaying her own thoughts with someone else’s ruminations is quieting, so she’s reading even more than usual... it beats sitting in darkness, waiting. Which she supposes means she should thank Helena (thank her) for her extensive new knowledge: of, here, grief and falconry, but also, the Wright brothers, Joan of Arc, India’s partition, séances in the 1920s, Salem’s witch hunts, various aspects of the Supreme Court...

Erudition must surely outweigh emotionalism Extremity. Enthrallment? Embitterment.

Stop dictionarying.

****

Relentlessly, the holidays approach. Myka tries to ignore them too, particularly their invitation to soften. Unhealthy, Pete’s accusation echoes.

But in speaking to Pete, Myka had lied: she isn’t really ignoring anything Helena-related. In a folder of significant size in her mind, she stores a cascade of spreadsheets in which she tallies and tracks as many of Helena’s movements, statements, interactions as she can, in as much detail as possible: e.g., it wasn’t enough for Myka to get Steve to tell her about his retrievals with Helena—those accounts, while captivating, were incomplete, secondhand—so she has made perverse use of her hard-earned Warehouse database access to read Helena’s actual mission reports, like some pathetic online stalker. They’re literarily significant, she tries to use as additional justification, ignoring the fact that no one other than Warehousers will ever know how or why.

It’s not that she’s hoping to gain insight from any of this; the activity is simply itself. A flat gather of data. For those spreadsheets.

Which she uses, of course, to torture herself, not least for her damning inability to gain insight. Thus proving Pete wrong: it isn’t ignoring things that’s unhealthy. No, it’s paying them attention—stupid, pointless attention—that causes disease.

That’s true, but Myka genuinely does not know how much longer she can suffer making herself sick.

Lovesick, she sometimes thinks... but that makes “love” too prominent in the mix. No, the “sick” is what matters, and it is chronic, not acute. Which means it must be managed rather than cured, and she will manage it, because she has to: because she is an agent and Helena is an agent and they live in the same house and say the same mutually polite “good morning” to each other each day.

Sometimes Myka wisps a wish, in the wake of one of those morningtides whose undertow she cannot reveal, that she could begin to shift her thinking, to try floating above rather than falling under, the better work her way to commencing the actual ignoring.

But then Helena will talk to Steve about the particulars of his Buddhist practice, or to Claudia about a joint invention project’s feasibility, or to Artie about a disputed wrinkle of history, or even to Pete about, bizarrely yet bizarrely frequently, which menu items should be avoided at fast-food chains... and Myka enters each new datum into the spreadsheets out of avid habit, all while ferally wishing everything different—even, some days, heretically, Helena gone. And while castigating herself for having wished, before, so stupidly inchoately, pleading with the universe to let Helena come back. More: to send Helena back.

How very monkey’s-paw of you, she jeers, to leave out specifics. In particular, to leave out “to me.” Send Helena back to me.

Before Helena came back, Myka was lost; now she’s still lost, but differently. And if there is one thing Myka has never liked—in fact, has always feared—it’s change.

So in truth she can probably suffer making herself sick for quite some time. As long as nothing about the making—or the sickness—changes.

****

The days leading up to Christmas itself are blessedly busy. On the 22nd, Myka and Steve head to West Virginia to bag a problematic coal-miner’s lamp; the work keeps them away until Christmas Eve, and if Myka happens to linger a bit longer at the Warehouse after Steve goes back to the B&B once they’ve deposited the artifact... well, that’s because she’s very conscientious about filing reports in a timely fashion.

In fact, she lingers a lot longer, and she’s happy to arrive home to a mostly silent B&B... however, she is instantly deposited into precisely the sort of situation she’d hoped to avoid: she must walk past Helena, who is in the living room, alone, with the television on. Impossible to slink past undetected, and thus rude to try—particularly once Helena says, “Welcome home.”

How disorienting, for Helena to be here and to say that. Worse, the articulation seems to ring of... before. When Myka was special.

But she is imagining that. She must be.

“What are you watching?” she asks, though she doesn’t need to. Helena is watching the Yule Log.

You strike me. Myka’s thought stops there, true as can be. Aloud, she says, “You know what it is, right?”

“A strangely mesmerizing facsimile of a fire,” Helena says, without looking up. “Do I strike you as hypnotized?”

Now Helena looks up. She blinks at Myka and nods, oddly soft, childlike. “I consulted Google.”

Helena is absurdly fond of Google. Myka struggles to keep from finding this absurdly charming. She struggles similarly with the way in which Helena articulates the word itself—every witnessed occurrence of which is represented in the spreadsheets. so Myka is painfully aware of the way Helena puts a slight formal emphasis on both syllables, such that it sounds, in a capping absurdity, as if she’s saying she consulted Gogol.

Not that acquiring input from a dead Russian writer would necessarily be all that different, absurdity-wise, from having instant access to a towering percentage of the world’s collective knowledge. And Helena probably understands that congruence, if that’s what it is, better than Myka ever could.

Myka knows she’s thinking herself down treacherous paths; she should say goodnight and walk away. But it’s Christmas Eve, and she gives herself a present she shouldn’t want but feels she has earned, earned by ignoring—or, to the contrary, recording—so strenuously. She has done such hard work. So she lets herself ask, “Why are you so focused?”

“Pete gave me a choice: watch the Yule Log or talk to Myka. I believe he thought I would reject the former as unworthy of my attention. Yet here I watch, mesmerized.”

“Since when do you do what Pete tells you?” But thanks, I guess, for letting me know where I stand. She can’t then hold back a jab: “Anyway, shouldn’t you be spending the holiday with the famous Giselle?”

Helena blinks again. This time it’s not at all childlike. “That’s why he wanted me to talk to you. But to answer your previous question: since he told me he’s in love with you.”

He... what? “What?”

“You asked me since when do I do what Pete tells me. I’m answering.”

Keep up, Myka; keep up. “When did he tell you that?”

“This evening. As part of what I fear—or hope?—was intended as a Christmas gift.”

“For you?” That’s not keeping up.

“No.”

“Then for who?” That’s not either.

“Whom.”

“Well, excuse my grammar, but I’m a little weirded out.” This is the most extended conversation she and Helena have had since... before. That’s destabilizing enough to her ability to concentrate on words. but what, exactly, is she supposed to do with these words?

“Weirded out,” Helena says, an unexpected affirmation. “As was I. I wasn’t aware.” She makes a small “huh” noise, as if she has to bridge her way to what’s next. “That the two of you had been involved.”

Oh. Hence the bridge—but this is a shifting surprise. “I thought someone—Claudia—would have told you. Must have told you.” Must have, and that in turn must have contributed, Myka had been sure, to Helena’s lack of engagement. She’s always known your judgment was abysmal, she’d lashed herself, based on those must haves, and this is certainly fuel for that fire.

“Our discussions have been more focused on her future. And my past. And technology, of course.”

“Of course,” Myka says. And then, quick, before she loses her nerve: “It didn’t take.”

“Technology?”

“The involvement.”

“I gathered that from its current status.”

“Right.” The conversation, such as it is, should probably end here... but something is off. “Wait. You said he said he is in love with me.”

“Yes.”

Myka had believed it was over. All over. The idea of having to deal with it, with any aspect of it, in perpetuity, or at least with no clear sundown, preemptively exhausts her. And it rekindles her anger at the entire situation, at its utter pointlessness. “I don’t know what to do with that,” she says. She immediately regrets the admission.

“He said he’ll get over it.”

“Well, that’s something. I guess.” It comes out grudging, and that’s another admission Helena shouldn’t be privy to.

“He said you won’t.”

“What? Get over it? No, the problem was that I wasn’t ever in love. With him.” She’s saying far too much. She supposes it’s fortunate that she’s looking at this repetitively flickery video loop, rather than into Helena’s eyes. She supposes also that said loop is a reasonable metaphor for how her life has been proceeding. Lately. Before, and lately.

“He said that too.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re losing me.”

“Interestingly, he said a version of that as well.”

“That you were losing him?” Not hard to believe; sometimes Pete can barely follow a laser pointer.

Helena focuses her gaze on Myka again, adamantine. “That I was losing you.”

And just like that, Myka is through the looking glass. Trapped like Alice, trying to get out. “Why would you care?” she chokes.

Helena lowers her brow, a stern schoolmarm confronting an intransigent pupil. “Because as I mentioned, he said—and seemed quite certain—that you won’t get over being in love.”

Myka knows now what’s next. Helena is about to say, “With me.” Because once again: that fight.

Oh yes I will. That’s what the ignoring is for. When I work my way around to it, that’s what it’s for.

“I didn’t know,” is what Helena actually says, clearly taking Myka’s silence as affirmation of those unuttered words.

“Oh please. Like I could have been any more obvious.” Obviously. She says it with contempt at herself, past and present: what a pathetic moonstruck puppy.

“At which point?” Helena asks.

That’s a surprisingly troubling question. Timelines. Decisions. What did you know and when did you know it? What did you show and when did you show it?

“All I knew was how you responded. Not how you felt.”

Of course the former was all Myka herself had known, certainly at first, and their consonance surprises her. If only she could share that consonance, and her surprise in it, with Helena... but that seems too much like a reward, one that neither she nor Helena deserves. Again exhaustion: at their lack of merit. “I don’t want to play these games,” she says.

“Then don’t.” Was that a shrug? Did Helena really shrug?

“Fine. I won’t.” It’s childish, yet it feels like the best end she can manage tonight. You didn’t seek this out, she assures herself as she takes a first step away.

Before she can seal the escape with her second step, Helena says, “You might at least release me from this view.”

“You talked to me,” Myka says, doing her best to make it all go away. “You’re free.”

Helena turns from the flames too quickly for Myka to dodge being caught by the look. “I am in no way free.”

That is not my problem, Myka would like to maintain, but Helena’s gaze and tone are implicating, which is entirely unfair but still needs to be dealt with. She sits down next to Helena on the sofa. At a judicious distance.

Now they are both watching the Yule Log, which, indifferent to them both, continues its facsimile flicker. “I guess it is kind of mesmerizing,” Myka says after some time.

“We haven’t spoken much,” Helena rejoins.

“There hasn’t been much to speak about.” Without peril, Myka adds, internally, and by that she means, peril to me.

“On the contrary. But I’ve tried to ignore it.”

“So have I. I hear it’s unhealthy.”

“Perhaps. It’s Pete’s strategy as well, according to him,” Helena says. Then, following a throat-clear, “With regard to his feelings for you.”

Myka doesn’t need to clear her throat. “He’s the one who told me it was unhealthy.” Which puts her in mind of his ostentatious cough: it’s meaningful now. Ridiculous, but meaningful.

“Then I suppose we’re ailing, all of us.”

“I suppose we are. An epidemic of ignorance.”

Helena smiles a little at that. Myka can’t help but smile back, and she maintains it as Helena asks, light, “What is the prognosis?”

“Depends on the ignoring’s end result,” Myka temporizes.

“Pete maintains that ignoring something long enough makes it go away.”

Or it kills you, Myka might say, like cancer. But instead she stays light. As light as she can. “Maybe he’s right. No, probably he’s right.” She owes him that.

Now a pause. A wait. What’s next? “So is that where we leave it?” Helena asks.

Maybe it goes away. Maybe that’s what’s next.

Myka can see it, now: see the spreadsheets dissolving into unnecessarity, see herself not responding physically to Helena, see Helena becoming, in essence, like Pete: someone with a past version of whom a past version of herself made a mistake.

She hadn’t imagined, not before this minute, that it was possible. But now a road leads there.

Can she take that road? She looks again into the fire. The not-fire. It mocks her: Everything you really want turns out to be unreal. On the other side of some facsimilating screen. A mirage. She turns away from it, ashamed. She looks at Helena... for the moment, Helena is still real. Still able to render Myka’s resistance from her body, here in this moment by sitting quietly and watching fake flames, in the next by doing nothing more than breathing out, breathing in.

Myka has not yet taken that awful road. Not yet. One more try, she tells herself. But no, that’s not right. She’s never really tried. Never really. She’s waited—longer than she thought she should—and she’s hoped—harder than she thought she could—but that wasn’t trying.

So: one try.

It can’t be the try she might have made in the past, a desperate just-please-touch-me push. Under the circumstances, that’s impossible. So, what?

An olive branch? No, peace isn’t the right aim, even now.

Better, perhaps: something she wouldn’t have said before tonight’s... encounter. Something related to tonight’s encounter, something more real than she’s offered so far: “We fought. Pete and I.”

TBC

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Devil's Snare: Part. 11

Aemond Targaryen x reader

Description: Y/N is pregnant with Aemond's child. Of that she is certain. What she can't seem to figure out is how to tell him in the midst of a bloody war that has already cost them so much.

Previous part Dividers kindly provided by @zaldritzosrose

Writer's note: I literally can't apologise enough for the biggest hiatus of all time! I completely lost the ability to write at all and hated everything I did write. Then I met Ewan Mitchell and died for a bit, so finally I'm back resurrected. I have no idea if anyone will still want to read this story as it's been sooooo long but here's another part anyway. I said it would be the last but I've had to split it because of the length, so they'll be at least another one before I wrap it up. Thank you to all you lovely readers who made me want to finish this story xxx

Warnings: Female reader, mentions of vomiting for people with emetophobia, mix of fluff and angst, some suggestive content, a scene straight out of Star Wars Attack of the clones (Anidala for the win) Aemond being emotionally constipated but making up for it with grand gestures.

It was becoming increasingly difficult for Y/N to hide her condition from Aemond, who had become even more protective if that were possible. Under his ever perceptive eyes she had to make a concerted effort to conceal the waves of nausea that seemed to overcome her at the most inconvenient of moments. It had been a month since Y/N had first taken note of the absence of her womanly cycle and she could no longer prevaricate on the matter...she was pregnant with Aemond's child. At first she'd felt a pleasant warmth spread through her at the realisation, a spark of joy at the thought of seeing Aemond as a father. She'd even been excited to tell him as soon as she was certain of the fact, but each time she tried he seemed to be called away to an urgent council meeting or to scout the skies on Vhagar.

The perfect moment never presented itself as she'd hoped, allowing her anxieties to build and a new fear to rise up within her. As the war continued to consume Aemond's every waking hour, worsened by the splitting of the Blacks' cause into two fronts as Daemon pursued his own claim, Y/N feared Aemond would not be pleased with her news. After all, surely this was the worst possible time to bring a child into the world. They'd never even discussed children, and Y/N had no idea how her husband felt about becoming a father. Without his words to soothe her fears, Y/N grew more and more uneasy with her condition, particularly as she finally felt her stomach begin to swell. She feared for Aemond's reaction, for herself having heard many stories of the pains of chidlbirth. But mostly, she feared for the child she now carried. What would happen if Rhaenyra won the war. Would the child survive. Would any of them?

She was sure Aemond had noticed something was amiss by now by the way she constantly felt his gaze on her, following her every move, not unaware of the look of gentle concern his one eye held. Sleep regularly evaded her, evidenced by the dark hollows that now shaded her eyes. And Y/N had lost her appetite, plagued by bouts of sickness, which had her running to the nearest chamber pot. In the middle of the night, she regularly woke up in a sweat and had to prise Aemond's arms from her body, a difficult feat as he instinctively tightened his iron grip on her in his sleep. In a sense, she was lucky Aemond had normally already left their chambers by the time she felt the sharp tug in her abdomen that sent her running before the wretching started.

But she did miss him during the day when he was detained by the small council and their interactions were limited to stolen kisses and glimpses of one another in the gloomy halls of the Keep. It was selfish, she thought, to wish they could simply return to the way it had been before when they'd spent nearly all of their time together, whilst the war continued to loom over the Red Keep. But she sometimes she found herself longing for simpler times when they would spend hours sitting and talking together, when she was just his handmaiden and he a handsome Prince who'd deigned to grant her his attentions.

Y/N rested discreetly against a column just before the small council chamber. She'd hoped to at least catch a glimpse of her husband as the council dispersed for the morning, but even crossing the short distance from their chambers to this part of the Keep had tired her considerably, likely only a sign of the fatigue she should expect to experience in pregnancy. As the kingsguard opened the doors to the chambers and her eyes met Aemond's, she forgot her weary limbs and smiled as he immediately rushed to meet her. A few moments later, his arms were wrapped around her as he held her to him, spinning her before letting her down gently. He kept a light hold on her waist, grinning down at her.

"You've come to see your husband? I am glad of it. I was in need of seeing something beautiful."

Y/N blushed "I missed you." Aemond squeezed her waist gently, his expression sympathetic.

"I know. But once the war is won, we will always be together. I give you my word."

Y/N nodded, trying to push down her feelings of loneliness and her anxieties around the child she was now certain she carried. She hadn't realised she'd been staring steadfastly at the ground until Aemond tipped her chin up with a single elegant finger and pressed their lips together. The kiss was one of barely repressed hunger that spoke to Aemond's passion for her, she was glad had never seemed to dwindle. But she lightly pushed him away with a startled laugh, aware this was not the sort of kiss appropriate for members of the small council to see as they left the chamber.

"Not here, Aemond."

Aemond's gaze turned steely, his voice commanding.

"Yes, here."

And then he was kissing her again, just as feverishly as the first time, one large on the small of her back so she was pressed against him. Sighing and finding it increasingly difficult to care who saw them at the intoxicating feelingof Aemond's soft lips on hers, Y/N gave in fully and melted against Aemond. It was a cough that startled them both enough for the couple to break apart.

Aemond directed the full force of his icy gaze on Ser Criston Cole, an eyebrow raised expectantly.

"We have matters to discuss, my Prince."

To Y/N's slight disappointment, Aemond reluctantly released her, briefly pressing his lips to her forehead and whispering an apology before following the hand of the king back down the hall away from her.

Aemond rapped his fingers against the council table with irritation and barely repressed impatience. He felt he had only just won his wife back to him after his transgressions, and yet he was still separated from her, trapped for hours at a time within these same four walls. He understood that he was needed as the strongest sword in the Kingdom and the rider of Vhagar, and he did not intend to shirk his duty to his family in this war. But his eagerness to prove himself, his lust for vengeance, had both diminished as he was forced to bear witness first hand to the consequences of war. Now he wished to end the war as soon as possible, whatever this required of him. His hope that the war would soon come to an end was renewed by the estrangement of Rhaenyra and Daemon. Together, as a united front, they were stronger. Their separation had weakened both their claims and their stances in the war. Aemond was also aware of ravens passing between his mother and Rhaenyra each day, and he began to think it would not be long until Rhaenyra realised her cause was a hopeless one without Daemon and his dragon. Without Caraxes, she had no dragon to counter Vhagar. His uncle Daemon posed the greater threat. Each day brought news of the castles he had taken in the crown lands, and Aemond knew he would have to face his uncle soon to put an end to the war. Part of him relished the challenge, though he feared for his love and his family, should he fail.

"We will reconvene once I have had time to consider your arguments." Aemond realised he had let his mind wander as Aegon dismissed the small council, rising quickly to try and catch a moment with his wife before other matters inevitably called him away from her. He briefly considered running in the direction of their chambers, though he could not be certain to find her there. But was pleased to see his wife already waiting outside the council chamber for him, saving him the trouble. He felt incredulous of the sheepish smile she sent his way, as if she could believe even for a moment that he wouldn't always be pleased to see her. It was a false presumption he would have to remedy. Crossing the distance between them at lightning speed, he immediately took Y/N into his arms, her light giggle as he lifted her off her feet like a warming balm to his troubled mind. He refused to let go of her even once he'd placed her back down, running his hands up and down the dip in her waist. Having to spend so much time away from her side had made him miss her soft timidity and the rosy glow of her cheeks when she blushed. He was sure he had never seen a prettier sight, and he told her as much.

"I've missed you..."

It was difficult for Aemond to hear, to know she felt his absence so keenly. But he wished her to know it was not his desire to part from her side. He recalled expressing this to her when she'd rushed to his chambers to check on an injury he'd received in training. How he'd pulled her onto his knee and told her he always wanted her that close. He had meant it then and he was determined to finish what he had begun when he had slain Luke, to put an end to this war so Y/N would never have to doubt it again.

"I know. But once the war is won, we will always be together. I give you my word."

Though Y/N nodded, he could see the sadness her eyes held, the loneliness swimming in them, and he so desperately wanted to comfort her. Lightly tipping her chin up he pressed their lips together, trying to express with this kiss that he missed her too, that he loved her more than it was possible to say. Aemond felt himself groan in frustration as Y/N pushed him away with a laugh, despite the sweeteness of the sound to him.

"Not here, Aemond."

Was that all that concerned his wife? That people might see them? Aemond was a prince of the realm. They would just have to accept it as far as he was concerned or turn away if they did not. He wouldn't waste the precious few opportunities he had with Y/N of late worrying about tempering his affectation for her to meet the standards of others. And he would not allow her to feel any shame from the ardency kf his love for her either. He was resolute on this matter.

"Yes, here."

He captured her soft lips again before she could raise any other ridiculous objections about him expressing his love for her, trying to convince her with each brush of his lips against hers how little the opinion of others mattered. He was glad this did not seem to take long as she pressed herself closer to him and sighed against his lips. Aemond could barely repress his anger at Ser Criston when he interrupted their embrace with his ill timed cough, trying what little patience he had left.

But, much to Aemond's chagrin, the hand of the king was right, they had pressing matters to discuss that could not wait. If Rhaenyra would not cede her claim, then they had plans to take Rook's Rest. This did not make it any easier for him to walk away from his wife when he could so plainly see her disappointment as he stepped away from her.

Aemond cursed as he faltered slightly midstep, hurrying back to his chambers for the evening. Darkness had long since cloaked the Red Keep in it's cold embrace, but he'd had no chance to escape from his duties until the hour had grown far too late for him to reasonably hope to spend any time with his beloved wife. He opened the door to their chambers tentatively, his tread quiet, the silence within a clear sign that Y/N had already retired for the evening. Aemond smiled at the image of Y/N curled up on the chaise, the book she'd been reading now sprawled on the ground, as if she'd been trying to stay awake for him. His heart warmed at the gesture, realising this must be true. Stepping forward, he crossed the room in measured strides, determined not to wake her but to situate her more comfortably if he could. Gathering her up into his arms, he'd only taken a few steps towards placing her on the bed before she was blinking up at him with bleary eyes. Any residual sleepiness was quickly replaced by a look of panic Aemond couldn't understand as Y/N urgently patted his shoulder.

"Put me down. Quickly."

Confused and a little put out by the less than warm reception, Aemond nonetheless placed Y/N back on her feet. Not a moment later, she had wrenched herself from his grip entirely, doubling over and holding her mouth over her stomach. Alarmed, Aemond made to move towards Y/N only to be stopped in his tracks when she held a hand up to him.

"No don't, I'll be alright in a moment."

"If you are unwell, I shall call for a maestor."

Aemond was already moving towards the door, his own anxiety rising at the thought of his love being taken from him by some illness. Y/N's hand gripping his halted him once again as she weakly tugged him back towards her. "I'm not ill, Aemond."

Though Y/N had lowered her hand from her mouth and was now standing up straight, he was unconvinced by the greenish tinge of her pallor, frowning at her disregard for her health. It was not something he could so easily dismiss.

"I find that difficult to believe, my love."

Y/N closed her eyes, breathing deeply perhaps to fight off any remaining nausea.

Stepping closer to her and taking both her hands in his, Aemond lowered his voice to a gentle and encouraging whisper.

"Whatever is the matter, you can tell me my darling girl."

Y/N nodded, though her features only grew more pained and anxious by the second and he noted that she would not meet his eye though he tried to chase hers.

And then he felt his heart momentarily stop.

"I'm pregnant."

Y/N awoke with a start as she felt herself being lifted into the air, followed seconds later by a sharp pain shooting through her abdomen. Her brief confusion was short lived as she came to terms with two important facts. She'd fallen asleep in her attempt to wakt for Aemond to return..and now she was going to throw up on him.

That thought had her frantically attempting to pull away from him in a frenzy of flurries movement and urgent cries for him to put her down, leaving him looking more than a little perplexed and put out with her. As soon as she was placed upright, Y/N launched herself away from Aemond, clamping a hand over her mouth in a desperate attempt to push down the bile she could feel rising in her throat. She didn't want this to be the way he found out about her condition. By the grace of the Seven, her concerted effort to take deep breaths was reducing the overwhelming nausea that had washed over her, leaving behind the realisation that she'd have to explain her strange behaviour to her husband, who seemed seconds away from bolting from the room to fetch the nearest maester. That didn't make it any easier to reveal the truth, and just like every other time she'd attempted to share her secret with Aemond, she became tongue-tied and nervous about his reaction. But when he held her hands so gently, squeezing them encouragingly, and spoke to her so softly, she lost control of her speech entirely.

"I'm pregnant."

As soon as she blurted out her confession she regretted it, for every muscle in Aemond's body seemed to freeze as his mouth fell open...and though several seconds passed in agonising silence he said nothing, only staring at her, frozen in either shock or horror.

Ripping her hands from Aemond's hold, Y/N turned her back to him, covering her face with her hands and ineffectively pressing her palms against her eyes to staunch the flow of tears and her crushing dissapointment at her husband's reaction. It had been worse than she had even feared. Her soft sniffles must have broken the spell that had frozen Aemond in place as she soon heard his boots clicking against the cold marble floor as he moved around her, warm large hands wrapping around her own to prise them from her face. Y/N fought against his attempts, not wanting to see the look of disappointment on his face she was sure she'd find.

"Look at me, please." He did not sound angry at least, rather uncertain. Did he think she'd lied to him? Would he have rather she had?

Reluctantly allowing Aemond to pull her hands back down to her sides, she was surprised to see what looked much more like wonder than horror in Aemond's eye, an almost dreamlike expression on his handsome features.

"Are you quite certain?" Y/N heard a definite tremble in his voice, and she nodded simply in response, not understanding his sudden change in demeanour. When he said nothing still, the only change being the widening of his eye, she felt her heart break a little more.

"Are you very unhappy with me?"

Aemond looked like he'd had a bucket of ice water thrown on him and had been abruptly woken from a dream. Reaching for her again and cupping each side of her face, he gazed at her with the utmost tenderness.

"Unhappy with you? I have never been more happy. Hush, my love. Don't cry. I did not mean to make you feel as if I were unhappy."

Y/N shook Aemond's hands off her and turned away from him again. She imagined she must look petulant, but she still felt hurt. Aemond's words did not reflect the fact that only moments before he'd looked completely stricken, and she feared he was only trying to appease her now.

"You looked horrified. I know it isn't the best time to bring a child into the world and there are more important matters you must attend to..."

"Nothing matters more now than you and our child."

Aemond cut her off in her ramblings, wrapping his arms around her and resting his head on her shoulder, though she remained turned away from him.

"I was surprised, but certainly not horrified. I've thought of you as a mother before when I saw you getting along so handsomly with my niece and nephew. I thought of you as the mother of my child. Even before we were married, the image was clear in my mind."

Aemond stroked a hand down her abdomen as if to convey the truth of his words, though her bump was still barely visible. Y/N twisted in his hold to face him, surprised by Aemond's admission. Seeming to sense an onslaught of questions, he continued before she could even pose one.

"I don't want you to worry about the war now. This is the happiest of news. This child...our child, is the greatest gift you could ever have given me and I will love them fiercely. I will not allow any harm to come to you or our child."

Y/N smiled, her heart warming as she observed that Aemond's one good eye glistened slightly. She could see now that she'd mistaken his reaction and nearly sighed with relief. But their shared happiness couldn't qwell her curiosity.

"You said you had thought about us having children together before."

Aemond quirked an eyebrow up at her train of thought.

"Yes." He answered, almost like a question.

Y/N swallowed thickly, thinking of how to ask her question.

"You never mentioned a wish to have children to me before. How long have you thought of it?"

Aemond's expression softened as he tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, grazing his knuckles along her cheek as he did so.

"If I'm understanding what I think your truly asking, then I'll simply tell you that as soon as I realised I loved you, I knew I wanted you to be my wife and the mother of my children. It's not a thought I had before you, everything I wish for my life begins and ends with you."

Cursing her heated cheeks, Y/N all but barrelled into Aemond, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her cheek into his doublet. Aemond responded to her embrace quickly, laughing at the suddeness of her actions, and began to stroke her hair softly.

Y/N was embroidering a blanket for the baby in the hazy afternoon light when Aemond bounded into their chambers grinning at her. She could tell he was brimming with excitement and had his hands curiosuly clasped behind him as if he were trying to conceal something from her view.

"I've brought you something, my love."

Y/N rose from her seat and tried to peer around him, but Aemond continuously thwarted her efforts until she finally agreed to close her eyes and hold her hands out.

Once the surprise object was placed into her hands she almost dropped it from the heat it exuded, almost as if it were a very large boiled egg. But eggs were never so tough and scaley...except for dragon eggs. She opened her eyes to meet Aemond's expectant look.

"I went to the Dragon pit this morning to choose an egg for our little dragon. This one was hatched by Dreamfyre. I thought it fitting since you and Helaena are so close." Y/N felt a burst of affection rise within her at Aemond's excitement, and this act of affection towards their unborn child. She knew that it was customary for a dragon egg to be placed in the cradle of a Targaryen prince or princess, but she also understood this tradition must have a special significance for Aemond whose dragon egg had failed to hatch. The corner of her lips lifted at the nickname Aemond had given their baby.

"Little dragon?"

Aemond's smile only widened. He knelt before her, placing his hands on either side of her waist and resting his cheek against her now noticeable bump.

"Yes, our little dragon. She'll be a fiersome dragon rider just like her father."

Y/N placed their child's dragon egg on the seat she'd just vacated. Each scale was tipped with a dark blue hue that almost blended in with it's coal black surface, ensuring that it unmistakably belonged to Helaena's dragon. She couldn't help but feel it was perfect, and she raised her hands to tangle them in Aemond's hair, running her fingers through the silver strands.

"A princess then?' Y/N asked, amused by his confidence.

Aemond nodded resolutely in her arms, tickling her abdomen as his eyepatch grazed across it.

"I am sure of it. A Targaryen princess with all the beauty and kindness of her mother."

Aemond had spent far longer than he truly had time for carefully selecting a dragon egg for his baby. It was an important tradition for his House, but to him it felt like more. He never wanted his child to feel like an outsider as he had done all his childhood with no dragon of his own. He was determined his child should never face the loneliness he had, the jeers from his own brother and cousins, that instead they should feel loved and secure, that they truly belonged.

Aemond had spoken to Y/N many times of Targaryen traditions, but he did not know until he placed the dragon egg in her hands if she would understand fully how much this simple tradition meant to him. But when she graced him with a resplendent smile, he immediately knew that somehow she did.

I want someone to spin me around like that. It just looks so fun! Also Ewan Mitchell is the nicest person ever and I briefly held his hand and I'm deceased aaaah

@ateliefloresdaprimavera

@superintenseart   @youknownothingjohnwatson

@lportes-22

@sakurachan-9

@bitchyfestivalbouquet

@void21

@sapphiresandferrari

@pinkykats-place

@misspinkonmars

@idonotknowenglish

@leonesimp

@hyacinthesiss

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@zoetje2004

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@truly-abysmal

[lucyrose191]

CALM IN THE STORM| H.SPECTER

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Wife!reader

Summary: The entire firm knew how temperamental Harvey Specter was and whenever he was in one of those moods, they knew it was going to be a painful day, until they found the only thing that could calm him down.

Warnings: none.

Suits Master List

Harvey Specter could be described as many things; arrogant, rude, uptight, stone-faced and most certainly hot headed. It wasn’t hard to piss him off but it was certainly difficult to calm him down and once his mood was ruined the entire day was doomed.

It was quite frankly anyone’s worst day whenever Harvey wasn’t in a good mood because they always took the brunt of it and there was no way to fix it.

Or so they thought.

If there was one thing anyone would say about Donna Paulsen, it was that she knew everything, which meant she knew exactly what would calm Harvey Specter down.

His wife.

Y/N Specter wasn’t a lawyer, she was an aerospace engineer which was just as, if not more impressive than being a lawyer and Harvey Specter worshipped the ground she walked on.

After watching Mike Ross leave Harvey’s office with near tears streaming down his face, Donna had enough and picked up the phone.

Y/N’s attention was momentarily drawn away from her computer at the sound of her office phone ringing but continued looking through data as she answered "Y/N Specter speaking."

A sigh of relief was heard through the line before Donna’s voice filtered through. "Y/N! Thank god! I don’t know what the hell is up Harvey’s arse today but he’s nearly made Mike cry three times and it’s only 10 o’clock, can you please come and save us," her husband’s secretary practically begged.

Y/N smiled, leaning back in her chair, work forgotten. This wasn’t the first time she had received a phone call like this and she found it hilarious just how much her husband built within people, he was a real softy around her.

Luckily for her, she had a lot of freedom in her role, she had proven herself for many years before that she was now able to come and go from work as she pleased, being fully trusted that no matter how often she was hear her work was always done.

"I won’t be long," she said before hanging up, not wasting time in grabbing her things to make her way to her husband’s workplace.

As she walked towards her husbands office, Y/N bit down her laughter as she saw the obvious signs of relief on everyone’s faces as she walked by.

"Y/N you have no idea how happy I am to see you," Donna greeted her as she approached her desk, "He’s miserable in there."

Y/N looked through the glass into her husbands office and found that the redhead was telling the truth, the heavy frustration on her husband’s face was hard to miss.

She gave Donna a smile before making her way into Harvey’s office.

The man sighed heavily hearing his office door open, not looking up from the case file open in front of him. “I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.”

Y/N smiled, “and does that include me?”

Harvey’s head snapped up at the sweet, smooth tone of his wife’s voice, feeling the tension in his shoulders deflate just from her presence. "Y/N?”

“Hey handsome." She smirked slightly, walking around his desk, he turned in his chair just as she stood in front of him.

He looked up at her in the same way he always did, there was nothing but pure love in those eyes, “What are you doing here?"

Y/N smiled lovingly at him, stepping forward to stand between his legs, wrapping her arms around the back of his head. “You’re scaring your colleagues.”

Harvey rolled his eyes, sitting up to rest his hands on her waist. “They’re ridiculous.”

Y/N hummed, “maybe, but how could I deny the chance to come and see you?”

“Fair point, I can understand the struggle of not seeing my handsome face for a couple hours,” Harvey replied, dead serious, smiling as his wife rolled her eyes and gave him a gentle slap to the shoulder.

“What’s got you all worked up, darling?” She asked.

Harvey released a deep breath, sparing a glance to the case sitting open on his desk. “I didn’t even want to represent the guy but Jessica knows him, I know him to be a complete prick."

Y/N thought for a moment before inviting herself further into his space, forcing her way into his lap, not that he was complaining, he just tightened his grip around her, leaning back into his chair. “Well, how about I treat you to lunch?” She proposed.

Harvey smiled tiredly. “I’d love that, baby." He replied, earning a bright smile from his wife who leaned forward to press a loving kiss to his lips before standing back up, pulling him up with her,

“Come on then, we’ve kept Ray waiting long enough.”

The smile on Harvey’s face was a stark contrast to the frustration he had been hounding earlier and it was all down the angel in front of him who wouldn’t even allow him to grab his coat, too persistent in dragging him through his office door.

As they made their way out of the building, they paid no attention to the uncomfortable weight that seemed to lift from everyone’s shoulders.

One thing for sure is that the entire firm were relieved for the existence of Y/N Specter.

[honorarypines]

@alterego77 hii merry christmas from your LOMA server secret santa aka mee!

We've never interacted much, but your art is brilliant and I love seeing it pop up on my dash! I'm glad this fandom still has dedicated and active folks like you! You listed some really cool prompts on your form so I wanted to include as much as I could. Enjoy your little short story my dear, I really hope you'll like it bc I absolutely loved crafting it for you!

You wanted some good ol temporary amnesia and I decided to gave it to Edwin bc I felt like making a parallel to their first meeting but with roles reversed

2. Crystal being powerful! Obviously our girl would do everything in her power to help Edwin out as she suffered from amnesia as well and knows how horrible it is. Not on her watch!

3. Im a hardcore autistic Edwin truther but turns out drawing characters being autistic is much more difficult than writing them. So I struggled with this one a little. Eventually, I went with him having a meltdown over regaining all his nightmarish memories. Maybe it also lowkey counts as hurt/comfort...?

Happy Yule love!

[eurydicees]

re what they are saying about fiyero on twitter - gosh there is too much stuff. they talk about how uninteresting he is, how his presence has no effect on the leads, how he shouldn’t be elphaba’s endgame and doesnt deserve to be, how they want to delete him from the plot (somewhere along those line), how they want to block anyone making any fiyeraba or fiyero tweets or content and much, much, MUCH more like i genuinely do not understand the obsession?

i of course get not liking him, thats normal about any character lol but the way they just cannot shut up about how they dislike him is so….. like really no one is challenging your gelphie content 😭 we really are not interested to challenge your ship. you really dont need to focus on this guy 24/7 but ig you do you i hope they remain sane amidst all the apparent misery lol

well. you know. disappointed by not surprised. a partial fiyero ted talk under the cut. sorry.

it's like. it's just so frustrating to write him off as uninteresting and as having no effect on either elphaba (or glinda). like guys why is the media literacy not happening right now. also how the fuck would you delete him from the plot???? guys his plan is literally how elphaba escapes dorothy. he's the one who saves her from the gale force, TWICE. he literally sacrifices himself for her escape and its his sacrifice that makes her spiral into "wickedness" during no good deed.

also, fiyero is elphaba's endgame in part because he does what glinda cannot bring herself to do. WHICH IS SO VITAL TO THE ENDING. fiyero is the one who makes all of the sacrifices for elphaba that glinda refused, and he both pays the price for it and reaps the reward of it.

glinda and elphaba have a profound effect on each other, obviously, but it's not like fiyero is left unchanged by elphaba. i dont get where this idea that fiyero and elphaba have no dynamic because like??? that's just not true?????

fiyero goes from refusing to confront the difficulties of life to choosing the more difficult path for the sake of morality and loyalty and love because of elphaba (which is also really interesting given how he's, like, kind of a casualty of war in the book more than he is an actual rebel....mostly fiyero's book to musical adapation is #Rough but that's a cool parallel i hadn't noticed before).

glinda begins to see the flaws in the wizard's society, but she actively chooses to be a part of the system anyway. and she regrets it. that's the whole thing abt thank goodness!!!

fiyero, on the other hand, begins to see the flaws in this society and he chooses elphaba--and the life of rebellion that she's chosen--over everything that glinda admits to being unable to resist.

and GOD. guys that's so interesting. HES SO INTERESTING!!! how are you not interested by all of this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

wicked is such a cool study on morality and what the "right" thing to do in such a world is, and what it means to make the decision to do the right thing vs the comfortable thing. fiyero chooses to follow elphaba and he pays the price, but he also doesn't regret it. glinda chooses the "safe" option--but in the end, even if she chooses good then, she's entirely alone in it all.

and that's SO INTERESTING!!!!!!!!! god. whatever. twitter just doesn't get him like you and me get him, anon.

just. it's totally fine to dislike him! i'm not refuting people's right to dislike him. the nature of fictional characters is that sometimes people will dislike them. like that's fine.

but being incapable of shutting up about how much you hate a character just...it stops being "harmlessly disliking a fictional character" and starts being "you are insufferable to talk to." like sorry you're so miserable about fiyeraba but i'm gonna be over here just having fun because that's what fandom is supposed to be about :)

(also, just a major issue with breaking this movie up into two films released a year apart is that any movie-only fans just don't get the point of fiyero's character. it's kind of devastating. ik not all of the people saying that stuff are movie-only but man. the people who are...im BEGGING you to give him a chance in part 2. literally BEGGING you. fiyero is such a good character. he has so many good moments. let the green girl go lives in my head rent free and if they cut that i'll riot.)

tldr; fiyero is SO neat and twitter is just full of cowards.

[littleslaywrites]

i saw mommy kissing santa claus | aaron hotchner x reader

summary: you set up the house on christmas eve with aaron after jack has gone to bed

word count: 0.8k

cw: fluff, implication that santa isn’t real

The radio was quietly playing Christmas songs, low enough to not wake Jack, but turned up so you didn’t drift off to sleep. It was Christmas Eve, and Aaron and you were staying up to get the place ready for tomorrow morning.

You’d moved in during January, the lease on your old apartment ending with the new year. Even though you had been dating Aaron for a few years, you were hesitant to take the step into his home. However, Jack had asked you one day if you’d ever have a “forever sleepover”, and it was enough to convince Aaron to ask you to move in.

The two of you had celebrated Christmases in the past, but you’d always shown up in the morning. Aaron had prepared alone in the past, but now you were there to make the house suitable for tomorrow morning.

“I’ll get the gifts from the closet,” Aaron says, disappearing into your room. You transfer the ham for tomorrow’s dinner into the fridge to let it thaw as he places the gifts from “Santa” under the tree. You join him, arranging the presents into an organized pile. 

Aaron and you had spent hours shopping, trying to find the perfect gifts for Jack. It was difficult, as it required finding time where the two of you were free and someone could watch Jack. You ended up exchanging with JJ, watching Henry as she shopped, and her watching Jack as you shopped. The two kids loved this arrangement, convinced you were doing boring adult errands while away.

The number one gift on Jack’s wishlist had been Star Wars lego sets. Aaron was happy to get them, knowing the two of them would make them together. 

Placing the final presents under the tree, you glance at Aaron, on his knees below the pine. There’s a feeling brought by the quiet of the night, the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights, the quiet hum of the radio, that makes everything feel a little more magical. 

“I can’t wait for Jack to open these tomorrow morning,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “I might be more excited for Christmas than he is.”

Aaron laughs at this. He’s seen over the past few months how much you love Christmas. Of course, he’d seen your own apartment decorated in past years, but now that you’d moved in, he fully understood your passion for the holiday. You’d added a festive touch that Aaron never had time for, taking Jack shopping for lights and decorations. He’d appreciated it, smiling every time he came back from a case to the decor. 

You glance over at the tree. "I hope Jack will appreciate the effort we put in, even if he thinks it’s Santa’s work."

Aaron smiles, his gaze softening as he looks at you. "He already knows. He sees how much you care about making this special for him."

You feel your heart swell with love, forgetting about all the stress the holiday season brings for a moment. Moments like this were what Christmas was about, the love and happiness your household brought you. 

Aaron takes your hand, the two of you standing. You walk over to the plate of cookies that Jack had left out for Santa. “Shall we?” Aaron asks, handing you one.

“We shall,” you say, dipping the cookie in the milk beside the plate. You thank whoever first came up with the idea of making cookies for Santa, the two of you taking a singular bite out of each one.

You turn off the radio as Aaron goes to the closet, pulling out a pair of his boots. He brings them over to the sink in the kitchen, spraying some water on the bottom. You pour some flour on a plate, and press the boots down into it. Aaron goes over to the fireplace, placing the boots down to create the illusion of snow prints from Santa leading to the tree. 

“Do you think he’ll be convinced?” he says when he’s satisfied with the tracks.

“I’m sure he will,” you say, walking over to him after you’ve rinsed off the plate and put it in the dishwasher. “You’re the handsomest Santa I’ve ever seen.” 

He laughs at your flirtation, placing a hand on the small of your back. "If anyone’s kissing Santa Claus, I think it might be you."

You giggle, and he pulls you close into a deep kiss. When you pull away, you look into his eyes, mesmerized by the way they twinkle as he looks at you. You savor the warmth of the season as his arms are wrapped around you. 

Tomorrow would be chaotic, Jack’s energy increased due to the excitement of the day. So you made sure to savor Aaron’s quiet affection, meditating in the quiet that was only broken up by the crackling fire. 

“I’m glad you were here to help me this year,” he says. You hum, still worried about your conversation waking Jack up. You don’t need words for Aaron to feel the love you bring into his home. 

“Let’s get to bed,” you whisper. He obliges, turning off the lights, smiling as he gives your handiwork one last look.

author's note: happy christmas eve! i've had a lot of fun writing the xmas event so everyone send me cm requests pls and thanks. also I will say I'm not feeling too festive bc I have been thinking of transferring for a while and now that I'm home I'm highkey considering it. this is bc I spent app season during my senior year thinking I was gonna do theater and then changed my mind and canceled all my callbacks in January after all the rest of the app windows closed and I got stuck with the three options that allowed me to switch app majors in march and now im at a school that doesn't really match my focus on academics but whatever. anyway if you have cm fic ideas TELL ME I will write it

[howlingday]

I freaking love alabastards so much! Its like vol 1 Weiss and Jaune who got tired of taking shit for being too nice!

I so need more!

Would it be too much to ask for Alabastards on winter break or something?

"Hello, Arc."

"Weiss."

"How is your winter break?"

"Good. Yours?"

"My winter break is also going well." Weiss turned away. "Not that you'd know anything about proper grammar anyways."

"Oh, really? Is that because I'm too poor to talk good, or is it because you're so bad at being a good person you have to make up for it?"

"Bite me, Arc."

"Make me, Schnee."

The two sneered at each other until they noticed they were getting looks from their teams. Reeling back, the two parted. How and why the two were always found at odds, no one was truly certain. Maybe one had said something to offend the other, or perhaps there was a meeting they had before Beacon that soured their relationship long before it could begin? It was difficult to say.

Regardless, today was Non-Descript Winter Holiday and the two had promised to bury the hatchet, if only for the day. Weiss had bought gifts for each of her friends on Team JNPR, and Jaune, while Jaune used his skills to craft personal gifts for his friends on Team RWBY, and Weiss. As the two sat down with their friends, gifts were exchanged between each of them.

Weiss gifted Pyrrha jacket with a liner, both skillfully embroidered with her name. Nora got a quirky device that allowed her poor syrup through a glass tube onto her pancakes, like some kind of breakfast alchemist. Ren received a new apron to wear should his other need to be washed, this one featuring the words "I'm Not On The Menu". Jaune didn't open his gift.

"And why not?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Excuse me?"

"Knowing you, you probably put a cheap gag gift in here to spite me."

"Do you really think so low of me?"

"Do you?"

"...Fine. Then I refuse to open mine."

"Fine by me."

The rest of the party sighed, choosing to move on to other gifts. Jaune's gifts were hand-crafted with love... or friendship, if love was too much of a stretch. Yang got a bag for her boxing gloves that had "Chorld Wamp" stitched into them, making her giggle. Blake was given a couple sheets of paper with personal poems written front and back, some in haiku. Ruby got a coffee mug cozy, yarned and darned with black and red. Weiss, much like Jaune, refused to open hers.

"I don't care."

"Neither do I."

"I'll just open mine later."

"Or never." She scowled at her gift in disgust. "Knowing you, you probably put something disgusting in here, like a photo of yourself."

"Ha ha." Jaune groaned, standing up. "I'm going to call it a night."

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings by not opening your shitty gift?"

"No, I'm just tired. Not everything is about you, Weiss." Before Weiss could retort, Jaune had already left out of the room, gift in hand.

"Weiss, that was really mean." Ruby whined.

"Very mean." Pyrrha added. "You were both supposed to not be hostile this evening."

"Why am I the bad guy?" Weiss gestured to where her foe made his exit. "He was ruder than I ever was!"

"You were both rude." Yang answered, pointing a finger at the heiress. "You both promised to play nice during winter break, and you both broke that promise on the most important day of the entire break. You ruined it for everyone."

"I did not ruin Non-Decript Winter Holiday." Weiss rolled her eyes. "He ruined it."

"I'm gonna hit her." Nora said.

"Please don't." Ren replied.

"The least you could do is open his gift." Blake offered.

"It it'll make you guys feel better, then fine!" Weiss opened her present. "But do you really think anything he got me will make me say... Oh my god..."

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

Jaune held his present in his hand, fully unwrapped and, begrudgingly, impressed. Inside the box was a camera. High quality, too. He fiddled with the buttons, the zoom, the lighting, the timer. Everything was so smooth and easy to play with. He didn't want to admit, but this was probably the best gift he'd ever.

"Jaune, open up." Jaune looked up to the knocking at his door. Opening it, he found Weiss holding his gift to her. "What the hell is this?"

"Your present." Jaune answered, making Weiss scowl.

"You know what I meant." She shoved past him and set the binder on his desk, pushing the gift box to the side. The binder was pure white and decorated with a single sticker of Beacon Tower, something purchased in the school store as a memento. Opening the binder and flipping through the pages, each of which were decorated with printed photos from Jaune's scroll. "You have every single person we've known in this binder."

"Yeah?" Jaune said with a raised brow. "That's how photo albums work, don't they?"

"Everyone we've known EXCEPT for the two of us! Why?"

Jaune blinked, looking at her like she'd suddenly turned into a creature of Grimm. "Because you hate me?"

"I don't- I never-" She groaned. "Just because I don't like you doesn't mean I hate you."

"No," Jaune agreed, "but you insulting me at every turn and being an overall bitch to me does."

"Only because you're an asshole to me." Weiss growled before sighing. "Look. Here's what's going to happen. We are going to fix this. You are going to take a picture of us and put it in this binder."

"Why should I listen to you?"

"Because if you don't, I'm going to kick your ass before the others do."

"The others?" Jaune blinked. "Why are they going to kick my ass?"

"Because they think we ruined the winter break for them."

Jaune was quiet for a moment. "I mean, we did."

"Yes, we did, and exactly the point. So take that fancy camera I got you and take my pic-" CLICK! Weiss blinked a couple of times as her vision was still blurred from the sudden flash. "Argh! You asshole!"

"What? I took your picture." Jaune showed off the photo on his camera with a shit-eating grin. "See?"

"Delete that." Weiss ordered.

"No." Jaune refused without dropping his smile.

Weiss opened her mouth to say something, then heaved a sigh. "Fine. Just... don't do anything weird with it. That's all I ask."

"Okay?" Jaune looked to his camera and pressed a button. "There, I deleted it."

"Oh." Weiss then watched Jaune turn on the light and pulled the chair to the center of the room. "What are you doing?"

"Setting up the shot." Jaune said off-handedly. "You want our picture taken, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts, except yours in this chair." Jaune chuckled.

"Ugh, you're worse than Xiao Long." She seated herself in the chair.

"I doubt it." Jaune lifted and lowered the camera repeatedly while crouched next to the desk before he grabbed a textbook and set the camera on top of it. "Okay..." He ran up to Weiss, taking place behind her. "Smile."

"Why?"

"It's your picture."

"Are you smiling?"

"Yeah."

"Bull."

"I am."

"...Fine." Weiss smiled and the camera flashed as she did. Jaune ran up to the camera and looked it over. He grinned. "What?"

"Nothing. I just look really good in this."

"Let me see." Weiss looked at the photo and immediately frowned. "You made a stupid face."

"I was smiling."

"You were making a stupid face while smiling."

"Well, do you want to take another one?"

Weiss thought for a moment, then nodded. "No stupid pictures this time."

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

Weiss opened her photo album, much time had passed since she'd opened it. Many more memories were captured in time and held in place right there inside her book. Her favorite page was the one with all of her favorite photos. The ones filled with her making goofy faces with her husband, Jaune Arc.

Happy Non-Descript Winter Holiday

[plurapony]

my little ponies are plural!

i have three plural headcanons for my little pony, and the best thing about them is that they are all pretty different from each other!!!!

1. pinkie pie!

episodes that give me plural vibes: party of one (season 1 episode 26), the saddle row review (season 6 episode 9) & too many pinkie pies (season 3 episode 3)

and why: i feel like pinkie pie as a character is the algamation of multiple identities stuck inside one body! she seems to be everything at once and everywhere at once which is something we relate to as a system (being simultaneously everything at once) ...also pinkie being pinkie and breaking the fourth wall of being a cartoon totally would figure out how to turn her plurality into a physical thing with the mirror pool plus we know that there's another entrance to it!

2. princess luna!

episodes that give me plural vibes: luna eclipsed (season 2 episode 4) & do princesses dream of magical sleep? (season 5 episode 13)

any why: in her introductory episode she uses the word "we" to describe herself. obviously she is from a different time and refers to it as "the royal we" but! that still made my system heart sing a little.. and the other episode i mentioned is the major plural indicator to me. in that episode she's been fighting the tantabus which is something she created to harm herself for the pain she caused. and in the end of the episode she accepts the tantabus as part of herself. this really felt like feeling being a system is a curse and denying it for as long as you can but eventually accepting that it is part of you and benefiting from that acceptance.

3. fluttershy!

episodes that give me plural vibes: fake it till you make it (season 8 episode 4)

and why: look I'll be honest, this one is a little more of a projection than the others. the way fluttershy retreats to quiet and finds it extremely difficult to be "unapologetically herself" ie confident and outgoing, i find that it very much resonates with my upbringing of being a system (and not knowing about it) i just really relate, and i guess i can see a young me in fluttershy. my headcanon is that she has DID but she is not aware of it, and she most likely won't be aware of it until she is much older but it is still very much there. the episode I mentioned is simply because she's very much out of character (and yes she calls it acting but cmon you don't call animals slurs while "acting" there has got to me some sort of dissociation at play there)

are these characters you headcanon as plural? do you agree or disagree!!! id love to know others thoughts on these 😄

[tealeaf29]

ARCANE SEASON 1 AND 2 SPOILERS

Y’know what? I’m gonna say it:

As a system myself, Jinx/Powder is a system.

It’s difficult to pin point the exact point of the split, and whether or not it even happens on screen, but I’m gonna say Powder’s breakdown in season 1 episode 3 is the first time we see Jinx fronting.

Throughout most of season 1, Jinx is in front. Not all the time, but a lot of the time.

People already talk quite a bit about how the arcane animators put time and effort into differentiating Powder and Jinx as two separate entities, is it really a stretch to call them a system?

Here’s the part that’s tripping me up though.

“Jinx is dead.”

I’m not sure who says that line.

Personally, I think it’s Jinx we see bonding with Isha. I think it’s Jinx we see talking about Powder being a stupid name. I think it’s Jinx we see saying Jinx is dead.

The best scene I think for showing the concept that Ninx and Powder are separate people, separate alters, is season 1 episode 6, when Vi and her sister reunite. It’s Powder that sets off the flare. It’s Jinx who angrily throws the flare on the ground. It’s Powder who fronts when Vi says her name and it’s Powder Vi hugs. But it’s Jinx who points PowPow at Vi. It’s Jinx who fires upon the Firelights with a smile on her face. It’s Powder who watches her sister get taken, and it’s Jinx who cries out in outrage moments later.

Second best scene for this is season 1 episode 9’s tea party scene. I don’t think I need to really explain that one too much, and there’s so much more I wanna say and I don’t want this to be too long.

Now, bare with me, it’s been a minute since my last rewatch but hear me out:

I think the last time we see Jinx is season 2 episode 4. Everything, and I do mean everything after she realizes she’s fighting Vander is Powder.

Do I think Jinx is gone? No. I just think she realized she doesn’t have to protect Powder anymore.

And I think there are two scenes that support this idea.

Season 2 episode 8, when Vi goes to break her out of prison and convince her sister to fight.

Vi pointedly calls her “Jinx”. Like a person trying to show they’re learning. I’ve seen this very thing myself as a system. Someone gets used to a new alter(in this case, Jinx) fronting, that they accidentally call another alter(in this case, Powder) by the wrong name.

She goes on to say “maybe we can rewrite your story, just like you rewrote Zaun’s.”

She’s saying “we can erase Powder, Jinx is all that matters, right?”

And, from an outside perspective, that’s not only a fair thing to say, but honestly super cute of her as a sister. I’ve seen people reading Jinx as a trans allegory, ESPECIALLY season 1 Jinx, and if it were, this would be a super great thing for Vi to say. But it’s not. At least, not by this point in season 2. If we do want to look at it as a gender allegory, then it works really well as a genderfluid allegory. But that’s not what I’m talking about.

No, Vi says the wrong thing here. She makes it clear she views her sister as a singular entity. Either Powder or Jinx. The issue is, especially at this point in the story, she’s not. And that’s not even me being like “I’m gonna state my personal headcanon/analysis as fact.” That’s just true. Schnee on YouTube does a much better job of explaining the dichotomy between the two identities in his “How EKKO Redefines Time” video that I 100% recommend(this video is actually what got me thinking about Jinx/Powder as a system).

The other scene, is Ekko trying to convince her to help. Ekko says two things here that are important. First, he says “Pow- Jinx.”

He doesn’t view them as a singular entity.

To the trans allegory thing for a moment, this is a really good line if you wanna read Jinx that way, because almost every single trans person who’s changed their name has likely heard “Deadna- Name” at least once(substitute for appropriate names of course). And it’s cute that Ekko corrects himself if that’s how you’re choosing to view it.

But it’s this line that gives her pause.

Ekko then goes on to say “no matter what happened in the past, it’s never too late to build something new.”

He’s not saying to erase the past. To erase Powder. He’s saying to move on from the past. To accept that Powder and Jinx are both present.

That is what convinces her to fight. Ekko telling her “it doesn’t matter, Jinx, Powder, whoever you are, whoever you choose to be, it’s not too late for you.”

Am I little biased when I claim Ekko is the only reason Jinx fights? Maybe a little, TimeBomb are one of my favourite ships in Arcane(though post-season 2 I stumbled upon LightCannon and I think they might be my fav Jinx ship now). But I don’t think that matters.

Do I think the writers intended Jinx to have DID? Definitely not.

Do I think the writers intended Jinx to be an allegory for DID? Maybe.

But it’s fun to analyze, and read representation in characters that wasn’t necessarily intended.

But, yeah, Jinx/Powder is now a system in my headcanon and you can’t convince me otherwise because it’s a headcanon and I can do what I want in my headcanons.

[demon-country]

We haven't seen much of Octavia and Stella thus far in the series, because up until now almost everything about Stolas and the characters attached to him (other than Blitz) has only been shown if it's plot relevant. But now, with Stolas officially in the gang, the loss of his relationship with Octavia is going to be a major source of drama. Her character growth, living situation, and relationship with her mother are now plot relevant, so we will be seeing more of how she is coping without him there to love and protect her. And I already know it's going to kill me inside.

Octavia is miserable, grieving, and feels abandoned, betrayed, and guilty for being the reason Stolas put up with Stella for so long (what she doesn't realize, yet, is that without her Stolas probably wouldn't have tried for a divorce. In all likelihood, given what we've seen so far, he'd have made his bid for freedom by way of suicide). And instead of a loving parent to help her work through those complicated and overwhelming feelings, she has Stella, who is abusive and controlling. And although she probably does love Octavia on some level, she has shown herself to be a piss poor mother who cares more about getting her petty revenge than she does about her daughter's happiness and wellbeing.

I sincerely hope that Octavia has friends, because her story is not destined to be a happy one for quite some time to come. She is going to be getting a number of terrible reality checks and revelations that will leave her current worldview, sense of self, and way of life irreparably shattered. Any sense of stability she still has left will be gone, many of her happy memories will be tainted by the rot her mother's abuse caused, and a lot of her freedoms - like her freedom of expression - will likely be taken away.

I feel so, so bad for her. She will soon be a legal adult, but that does not mean she isn't young and vulnerable. Her father cannot protect her now unless she goes to him, and although I'm sure he will continue to reach out to her to the best of his ability - per Blitz's advice, and potentially with Loona as a proxy - she has to be willing to take that step herself. He cannot take it for her.

And that is going to be very difficult for her. She already feels guilty and like she was a burden to him, which will be an emotional obstacle on its own, but now her abusive mother has sole custody of her, and unfortunately for Octavia, her last stunt of protecting her father will probably earn her the ire of both her mother and uncle. She did, after all, just make her uncle look like a complete fool by so effortlessly overpowering him.

And while Andrealphus likely won't be inclined to tell Stella about that particular humiliation just yet, there's nothing stopping that manipulative motherfucker from telling her that Octavia attempted to sneak out to go meet her father (which is easily deduced on his part by the fact that she came from the opposite direction of the palace, right on the heels of Stolas' cavalry). Given her efforts to keep them from talking to each other, I can't see Stella taking that too well, and without her old punching bag to take her frustration out on it's not a stretch to think that she might eventually turn on Octavia. Abusive relationships are notoriously hard to escape from for many reasons - which is another factor that prevented Stolas from doing so earlier - so if that does happen then it will likely also be a struggle for her.

Can someone who isn't Stella or anyone trying to use her, please give Octavia a hug and some support? She is going to sorely need it, because she is now more alone than ever.

[everburningpinkphoenix]

From Broken to Reborn: How I Met Adia

It all started back on Sunday, December 1st. After a difficult moment when I lashed out at my friend St4r for her feedback on my content, I made promises to make things right with her. However, this left me feeling heartbroken, mentally broken, upset, misunderstood, and isolated. I didn’t feel like I could post anything on Tumblr anymore, not even about Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, which had always been a huge passion of mine.

On Tuesday, December 3rd, I made major changes to my blog to reflect my mental state. I updated my username, avatar, blog description, banner, and background color—everything. My blog became a place that felt empty and disconnected from who I truly was. I felt like I couldn’t interact with anyone, not even my close friends.

The next few days were tough. I felt like I had lost my confidence and my enthusiasm to post anything. On top of that, one of my followers messaged me, telling me to "move on" and post content unrelated to Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, which only discouraged me more. I didn’t know how to move forward, and it felt like my situation was getting worse.

Then, Peace messaged me, expressing concern after seeing how much I had changed on my blog. She wanted to know what was going on, but I was too afraid to tell her, fearing it would cause a conflict with St4r. I felt stuck, unsure of how to express myself without causing more damage. Eventually, I was able to tell Peace everything that had happened on that night, and she helped me start to feel understood.

But then, Peace reached out to me again. She introduced me to her friend, Adia (@wanderfan2000), and called her for help, explaining that I was a friend in need. Adia was there for me when I needed it the most, offering a space to share what had been weighing on me. I felt ready to unload everything, and Adia's response was kind and understanding. She simply asked, "Alrighty, so what's going on? What is the trouble?" That moment opened the door for me to share everything that had happened from Sunday night through to Friday, December 6th.

After I opened up, I felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders. Adia listened and provided me with hope and support. She checked in with me when I felt sad or upset, always reminding me that I wasn’t alone. Her presence, along with Peace's, helped heal the emotional scars left by St4r. With their help, I was able to regain my strength and move on from the past.

Thanks to Peace and Adia, I found the courage to update my blog. It became a reflection of me being reborn from the ashes of pain and struggle. Although I may never forget what happened that week, I’ve learned not to let my past mistakes interfere with my passion for blogging.

And I’m so grateful that Peace brought Adia into my life. She has truly become my guardian angel, always looking out for me. Our friendship blossomed into something beautiful, and I now have a true friend who’s there for me through thick and thin. Adia, thank you for being the amazing friend you are. I’m so lucky to have you by my side.

This is the story of how I met Adia and became best friends with her.

Thank you, Adia @wanderfan2000 for everything, for being a true friend and my guardian angel.

[uceyliyahh]

SOMETHING BOUT’ US

Summary: "I want you more than anything in my life." After being in a difficult relationship with Carmelo Yasmine decided to move on from him and become the next big thing while getting drafted on the smackdown roster she always thought she would never find love again due to her commitment issues until she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 3533

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Yasmine

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx

11.

YASMINE  At ten in the morning, the sun streamed through the curtains, gently waking me. As I opened my eyes, I found myself nestled on his chest. I looked up to see him sleeping soundly, the soft sound of his snores filling the air.

I carefully slipped out of his hold, rising from the bed and making my way to the bathroom for a refreshing shower.

 A wave of relief washed over me as the warm water enveloped my body. Memories of the events from last night with Jey flooded my mind, and I couldn't help but notice how much he had transformed since our last encounter.

A refreshing breeze swept through, breaking my train of thought as I suddenly felt two powerful arms encircle my waist.

"Morning Beautiful, I figured you'd be in here," Jey said as I turned my body around to face him.

I smiled at him pecking him on the lips before speaking, "well where else would I be?" I said.

"I see you got jokes little girl," He joked while he pecked my lips.

As we shared a laugh in the shower, I felt a sense of joy wash over me. Once we finished, I headed downstairs to whip up something delicious for us. I started preparing our favorite dish, a special treat I always made when he stayed over during my time with Bianca and Montez.

As I was doing that I heard footsteps coming down the steps when I turned my head there he was coming down the steps looking all good without no shirt on only in his previous clothes that he had on.

As our eyes met, he flashed her a playful wink before stepping into the living room. At that moment, her phone buzzed, revealing a call from Bianca.

OTP Breezy🫶🏽: Good morning girlfriend! How you feeling? Minnie🧃: I'm doing well actually B hbu? Breezy🫶🏽: I'm just trying to get through this damn hangover idk how your head isn't banging right now Minnie🧃: girl I drank some green tea and called it a day honestly Breezy🫶🏽: really? Or Is it because Jey spent the night? Minnie🧃: girl no it's not because of that but he is here though Breezy🫶🏽: so what's the deal between you two now? Minnie🧃: we are taking things slow this time around Breezy🫶🏽: I hope because you now how your brother is after everything that happened Minnie🧃: yeah I know B I know

While I prepared our breakfast, I felt his gentle kisses on my neck, even as he chatted with Bianca on the phone, making me giggle with delight.

"Joshhh knocked it off," I whined out of annoyance.

Breezy🫶🏽: I think that's my cue to hang up the phone don't wanna hear talk two fucking Minnie🧃: bitch whatever we ain't finna be doing allat Breezy🫶🏽: yeah, yeah I'll see yall at work then.

CALLED ENDED.

I spun around and playfully jabbed Jey in the chest. "Wow, I almost forgot just how irritating you can be," I remarked as I switched off the stove.

"But, yo' ass love it though don't wanna hear no complaints mama," He retorted while grabbing our plates as I followed him into the living room.

We gathered around the table to enjoy our breakfast together, indulging in a delightful spread of scrambled eggs, cinnamon toast, and crispy bacon—one of our all-time favorites.

He appeared to be savoring every bite of the food, as if it were the final meal he would ever enjoy, completely lost in the moment.

"You know how to throw it down girl,"

"Just wait until I cook you dinner one day you'll want to marry me at that point," I joked as I continued to eat my breakfast.

✧˚° While preparing for my interview with Cathy, I found myself at work, sitting in the makeup chair. It was a moment of anticipation, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for everyone here during my brief absence.

I couldn't help but smile when I heard Tiffany calling my name; she truly is my girl.

"Minnie! Girl I've missed you so much!" She exclaimed as she gave me hugged.

"I missed you too girly, what's been happening since I've been gone?" I asked her as she gave me the run down of what's been happening lately.

It seems that Liv has been acting as if she's in charge, claiming to everyone that she and Jey are still happily together, all while she's currently involved with Dominick.

Last night, when Jey shared the message he exchanged with Liv, it was clear he was standing up for me in a way that no one else ever has.

I couldn't believe that she would be this delusional after using him for some money is crazy at that.

"What? She was using him for money? He should've been with you then instead of her," She said.

"Yeah, but things happened but me and him are taking things slow now because I felt we were moving way too quickly with it then shit it the fan afterwards so," I replied as Ms Kim was almost done with my makeup.

"I totally understand hundred percent, how do you feel about your interview with Cathy?"

If I was being honest with myself I am nervous about it since it's been a minute since I've done one of these things before my accident.

"I feel a bit nervous not even going to hold you, but I know I'll push through it," I said as she nodded her head.

"Well I'm going to go now girly I'll see you later!" Tiffany said as she left.

Once she departed, my makeup was complete, and Kim handed me the mirror. I couldn't believe how great I looked! I expressed my gratitude with a heartfelt hug.

Ms. Kim has been my personal makeup artist and stylist, consistently delivering outstanding results. Every time, she enhances my look perfectly. As I made my way to Montez's locker room, I unexpectedly ran into Melo.

I expressed my apologies, but before I could take a step back, he seized my arm and forcefully pressed me against the wall.

"The fuck Melo! Let go of me!" I shouted as he clamped his hand around my mouth.

"You're trying to cost me my fucking job! over something that happened months ago!" Carmelo shouted as he gave me a stern look on his face.

"I heard you and ol' boy are back together again didn't you call him yo' bestie? And then he went off to cheat on you with Liv Morgan?"

"When I should've been had you in my arms again princess," I bit him in his hand while slapping him in the face.

 "That's behind us now, Melo. I can see the changes in him, and I know he's eager to show me he's different. But as for you, yes, I'm the reason you're losing your job. You should have considered the consequences before you violated me, you monster!" I spat, shoving him forcefully, making him stagger backward.

I was caught off guard, feeling vulnerable, when a deep, raspy voice broke the tension behind us. Turning around, I was relieved to see Jey standing there, arms crossed over his chest, ready to intervene.

"Do we have a problem here?" He questioned.

Carmelo glanced at me before turning his gaze back to Jey, his expression filled with disbelief as he struggled to comprehend the scene unfolding before him.

"His dick can't be that good Minks for you to be this stupid for him he literally cheated on you! And I know as a man he'll do it again," Carmelo remarked as Jey walked up on him grabbing him by the neck.

"Yeah, my dick be all in her shit, screaming my name unlike yo' ass harassing her and I'm standing on what I said I've changed," I stood there watching what was unfolding right now and damn he looked so fine defending me in his honor.

I approached him, gripping his strong arms and urging him to stop, insisting that Melo wasn't worth the trouble. Jey glanced at me, then shifted his gaze back to him, ultimately deciding to release his hold.

Carmelo gasped for breath, clutching his neck as he realized Jey had nearly strangled him.

"Our conversation isn't over Yasmine I promise you that," that's all he said before walking away from us.

Jey stood in front of me, his hands gripping my hips as he gently massaged the sides of my waist with his thumbs.

"You good baby?" Jey asked as he looked into my eyes with concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm good hon I just fucking hate him honestly," I said as Jey nodded his head.

"Is he always like this whenever you're by yourself?" I acknowledged with a nod, indicating that Carmelo had been acting this way ever since our breakup, particularly after the way he treated me.

I shared with him all the intricate details of my past relationship with Melo, including the moments we cherished and the painful truth of his infidelity with a girl who was on the same roster as us while I was in NXT.

Jey clearly felt remorse for cheating on me with Liv, even though we weren't officially together.

"Fix your face nigga, it was in the past let's just worry about now okay?" I said as he raised an eyebrow at my remark.

"You might wanna fix that tone of yours little girl, telling me to fix my face and shit," He retorted as his hand smack my ass cheek causing me to hiss.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at him as I turned to walk away, his laughter following me. Honestly, he was just so infuriating.

As I made my way toward Cathy, I noticed the bright smile lighting up her face as she spotted me. When I reached her, we embraced warmly, sharing a moment of joy together.

"Oh my gosh it's been so long girl, how are you doing?" She said softly.

"I'm doing well better than I was before I tell you that honestly," I said.

"How are things going between you and...Jey?"

"We are doing fine, taking things slow but this time it's different," Cathy nodded her head as the camera man was coming towards us as we prepared for this interview that I had.

✧˚° Following my conversation with Cathy, I informed Jey that I would be in his locker room to support him during his match against Carmelo for the IC championship. While I was there, I suddenly heard someone calling my name.

I spun around and spotted Liv standing behind me with her new boyfriend, Dominick, which made me let out a frustrated groan.

"I guess you aren't dead after all Yasmine," She said while holding the title that I had to let go after my car accident.

"Girl, what yo' ass want?" I questioned her while folding my arms.

"I just wanted to see what you and Jey been doing together that's all," she was weird as fuck for thinking something like that I'll say.

I scoffed while placing my hands on my hips, "girl you have a whole man right there and you're worried about what me and Jey have going on right now?" I retorted.

Her laugh, which I found incredibly irritating, was completely ruining the atmosphere. I just couldn't grasp what was so amusing.

"I was just trying to figure out why is with a girl that was so broken and mentally unstable? Right daddy Dom?" She remarked which didn't get to me.

"It's hard to believe that you're still playing the gold digger game. I can't fathom how Dom is managing to date both you and Tiffany simultaneously—maybe it's some sort of polyamorous situation? Regardless, if you're finished with your chatter, I need to head over to my man's locker room to catch his match."  With that, I playfully stuck my tongue out at them and made my way to Jey's locker room.

I stepped into his locker room, carefully closing the door behind me. Taking a seat on the couch, I directed my focus to the television.

I spotted him dressed to impress, sporting his Yeet glasses and looking sharp with the IC belt cinched around his waist. It was clear to me that he would soon need to defend that title against Melo.

While I was engrossed in the match, I felt my phone buzz. When I checked it, I discovered a message from Trinity.

Trin🤭🫶🏽 sent a message.

IMESSAGE 💬 Trin🤭🫶🏽: Hey baby girl! Minnie🧃: Heyyy Trin boo what's up? Trin🤭🫶🏽: I was checking in on you a little birdie told me that you and Jey got back together? Minnie🧃: girl you knew that we were getting back together Trin🤭🫶🏽: I mean did I? Minnie🧃: girl bye whatever Trin🤭🫶🏽: lol 😭😭 but how are yall honestly Minnie🧃: honestly we are taking things differently this time unlike last time. Trin🤭🫶🏽: oh yeah? Is he still talking to that hoe Liv Minnie🧃: no he told me that he broke up with her because she was using him for his money and fuck around with Dom, I thought Jon told you this? Trin🤭🫶🏽: oh wait I think he did shi ion remember but wya? Minnie🧃: in Jey's locker room watching his match Trin🤭🫶🏽: when is Paul going to let you get your title back from that hoe Liv? Minnie🧃: I don't know Trin honestly he still wants me to recover until it's time. Trin🤭🫶🏽: that's understandable Minnie🧃: yeah so I'll be doing that while your brother in law is in Trin🤭🫶🏽: if you finish that sentence i will block yo' ass Yasmine 😭😭😭 Minnie🧃: my fault my fault but I'll ttyl aight? Trin🤭🫶🏽: okay girlfriend ttyl

I set my phone down beside me on the couch and turned my attention to the TV, where Jey was executing a powerful Samoan drop on Carmelo. Watching him dominate the match was absolutely thrilling; I couldn't get enough of seeing him take control and deliver such an impressive performance.

Jey eventually held onto his title as the crowd joyfully sang along to his song, and I couldn't help but feel genuinely happy for him.

While I waited for him to arrive at his locker room, I started watching some YouTube videos to pass the time and keep myself entertained until he showed up.

I received a text message from Carmelo while I was engaged in that activity.

Bum🙄 sent a message.

IMESSAGE 💬 Bum🙄: I fucking hate you Yasmine🩵: yeah, I hate you too now leave me alone Bum🙄: remember what I said about our conversation not being over? Yasmine🩵: to bad I got things to do Bum🙄: YASMINE!

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his message as I heard the door creak open, revealing a strikingly fit Samoan man stepping into the locker room, glistening with sweat.

He hadn't noticed me until his gaze caught my purse, prompting him to turn his head and flash a smile in my direction.

He approached me, standing directly in front of me with his belt draped over his shoulders.

"Are you really just going to stay there, or are you going to come over and give me a kiss, little girl?" he inquired, prompting me to roll my eyes in response.

 "By calling me that, you've definitely lost your chance for any kisses from me," I remarked, crossing my arms defiantly.

He arched an eyebrow at me, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "Oh, you think you can wager on that?" Confusion washed over me as he quickly pulled me onto his lap, securing me in place while facing him.

I instinctively draped my arms around his neck as his hands glided down to my hips, drawing me in even tighter.

"Are you really going to give me a kiss?" he inquired. I laughed softly, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on his lips before gently pulling back.

He didn't appear to be pleased with my kiss, so I instinctively understood what he desired. I took hold of his face with my delicate hands and drew him in for a fervent kiss, even though he was all sweaty.

Our tongues intertwined playfully, and my fingers glided through his mullet, making me forget everything else.

We momentarily separated, taking a breath as we gazed deeply into one another's eyes.

"Damn, mamas you be making me go crazy for you baby,"

"Yeah? I know I do that's why you can't let me go,"

"You ain't slipping away from me this time little mama you mine forever," that made me smile as me and him went back to making out with each other.

✧˚° OMNISCIENT Yasmine finally arrived home after a tiring day at work. She set her bag down on the floor and kicked off her shoes, placing them neatly on the shoe rack beside her.

 She made the choice to go upstairs for a quick shower, eager to settle in and enjoy her show on Netflix. As the warm water cascaded over her, Yasmine experienced a wave of relief, her thoughts drifting to what Carmelo had done to her.

She hoped fervently that Paul would dismiss him from his position, allowing her to escape his presence for good. It wasn't that she wished for a court battle; she simply wanted him out of her life entirely.

After finishing her shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out of the bathroom. Noticing that Jey had called her, she opted to FaceTime him instead.

FACETIME Joshua🤍: there yo' ass is I was literally calling you Yasmine🩵: a nigga can't take a shower? Without yo' ass panicking? Joshua🤍: sometimes I can't stand yo' smart ass remarks Yasmine🩵: yeah, yeah whatever nigga you know you love it.

Yasmine set the phone on the dresser, ensuring he had a clear view of her. As she slowly unwrapped the towel from her body, she noticed his breath hitching, a sign of his growing unease at the sight before him.

He found himself captivated by her figure from head to toe, completely lost in the moment until his brother's shout snapped him back to reality, redirecting his attention to the game.

Joshua🤍: my fault Uce I got distracted let's get back on track Yasmine🩵: I wonder who did that hm?

Jey cast a sharp look in her direction, a silent warning in his eyes, while she responded with an innocent smile, casually slipping into her cozy nightwear.

As he immersed himself in the game, Yasmine took the opportunity to snatch her phone. She positioned it on a nearby pillow, ensuring that Jey had a clear view of her screen.

Yasmine🩵: do you wanna sleep on the phone? Joshua🤍: why don't I just come over and spend the night instead? Yasmine🩵: you already did that Joshh and I'm about to watch my show Joshua🤍: aight mama we can stay on the phone Yasmine🩵: yay now hush so I can watch my show. Joshua🤍: mmcht mane whatever shawty.

Yasmine settled in with a snack, eagerly tuning into the new season of Bridgerton. She was completely captivated by the show, finding herself utterly enchanted by its charm and drama.

As she went about her task, Yasmine couldn't help but hear Jey shouting and swearing at his brother, urging him to lend a hand. The commotion made her chuckle at his frustration.

Joshua🤍: girl whats so funny huh? Yasmine🩵: you, your funny being upset about dying Joshua🤍: oh so that's funny to you? Would it be funny if I just came over there and blow that back out?

She fell silent for a moment while Jey chuckled at her.

Joshua🤍: that's what I thought Yasmine🩵: nigga fuck you respectfully I hope yo' ass keep dying. Joshua🤍: oh yeah? Bet Yasmine🩵: bet

He abruptly ended the FaceTime call, causing a moment of concern as she attempted to reach him again, but he didn't answer. She found herself hoping fervently that he wasn't on his way to her apartment.

She had reached a point where she felt indifferent, fully engrossed in her show and enjoying the tranquility it brought her.

After two hours into the show, Yasmine was startled by the booming music from outside, which abruptly ceased when she heard a knock at the door. Curiously, she peered out her window and spotted Jey waiting at her doorstep.

She couldn't shake the thought, 'Did he really just show up like this?' As she approached the door and swung it open, she found him standing there, engrossed in his phone, only to look up and meet her gaze.

"Nigga what you doing here?" She questioned him.

"Don't stand there and question me little girl, take them fucking clothes off since you wanna talk hella shit," Jey demanded as Yasmine gave him a stern look like he was crazy.

"If this is over about the game and what I said you can miss me with that bullshit Josh," She rolled her eyes at him while walking away from the door going upstairs.

He swiftly grabbed her before she could reach her bedroom door, lifting her effortlessly and carrying her inside, where he gently pinned her down on the bed.

Jey positioned himself between her legs, securing them around his waist.

"You thought I was playing?" Jey said.

"I wasn't expecting you to come over Josh,"

"Well here I am in the flesh, now take this off for me baby so I can wore that ass out hm?" She did what she was told to do and he got to work blowing her back out.

 As she cried out his name at the top of her lungs, it was likely that her neighbors could hear her being consumed by this man.

It was going to be a long night for Yasmine.

SomeThing Bout' Us.

A/n: I cannot stand them two honestly but I have been so weak today bro I hate being on damn cycle it's annoying 🥲

But I hope yall enjoyed this chapter lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY

[onegianthotmess]

“Hey, it’s cold outside, yeah? Stay a bit longer…”

Synopsis: When they’d first arrived and settled into their room in the home of Finnian and his spouse, Leona was quite annoyed at how cold he was and was fairly jealous that Morel had adjusted so easily. It seemed that even Gardenia, who was only a year old and much more fragile, somehow adjusted better than her father. But, after a few nights, Leona completely changed his mind since the cold meant Morel snuggled up to him even more in bed and they were covered with even more blankets, making everything ten times more comfortable. This also made Leona ten times more difficult to drag out of bed, but at least it made him ten times cuter…

A/N: I’ve been feeling the cold cozies lately (what I call feeling extra snuggly inside while it’s cold enough to freeze hell over outside during winter) and I wanted to write something that allowed me to describe the lovely feeling of being perfectly snuggled up in your bed during winter but also slightly Christmas-y since that’s what me and my family celebrate during the holiday season. If the title didn’t give it away, I took inspiration from the song Baby, It’s Cold Outside and basically used it as an excuse to write clingy Leona trying to keep Morel in bed. Such is the dynamic of chronic napper/one who always sleeps x early bird/one who never sleeps enough. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this little fic and are having a good holiday season so far!!!

Lions—and lion beastmen by extension—weren’t built for the cold. They were built for being the apex predators of the savanna, to live in hot conditions that taught them the absolute joys of enjoying a lovely rest in the shade and near a nice and cool water source. The blistering heat of the unfairly breathtaking savanna was their ideal habitat.

That was the environment Leona Kingscholar was built for. Not the fucking winter wonderland that was his father-in-law’s home.

When Morel had proposed spending the Christmas holiday with her side of the family—namely her father, stepparent, and two half brothers—Leona didn’t see much of a problem with it. After all, Gardenia was now a year old and could handle a two week stay somewhere without getting sick or causing too much of a fuss. And it was a bit unfair that Finnian always had to come to them to see his precious little granddaughter. The fact that it would be the first time Gardenia would be seeing snow was also a cute added bonus to the trip.

He’d dealt with the winters at Night Raven College a few times instead of going home to his family for the holidays, excusing that the unfamiliar climate had gotten him a bit sick. All of it was bullshit, he really just didn’t want to go home and Crowley was too busy with his head being sixty-five feet up his own ass that Leona probably could’ve stayed over the summer as well as the winter holiday and Crowley wouldn’t have cared.

So, with that past experience, Leona figured that he could live with a bit of cold and snow after suffering through NRC’s winters that were arctic compared to the warmth of Sunset Savana.

Oh, how wrong the Second Prince was.

Not only was he very wrong, but he was also very unprepared for just how cold his father-in-law’s homeland would be. The temperatures were well below zero when Leona and Morel arrived with Gardenia and Leona was shocked at the sheer amount of snow. In some places, snow drifts were likely about up to his shoulder, and the top of Morel’s head was maybe only an inch above that without her heels on. On top of all of the snow, the wind was so cold that it felt like pins and needles against his face and he could almost feel it through the hat—that Morel made just for him so that it would cover his ears snugly but comfortably—on his head.

Leona was actually extremely almost jealous of Gardenia at that moment because not only was she completely bundled up thanks to Morel’s maternal anxiety, the cub was also snuggly wrapped against Morel’s chest in a baby sling that was specifically bought for the trip so ensure that she wouldn’t get too cold or sick. It didn’t help that she was also sleeping soundly in the thing as well, the wind providing the perfect amount of white noise that was muffled through the thick hat on her head.

Leona had never been more grateful to be inside in his life once they’d actually made it to Finnian’s home and he let them in. Luckily the beastman was able to hold it together until he, Morel, and Gardenia, who was sleeping in what used to be Morel’s crib, were all settled into the guest room. Morel had only turned around to lay their cub down to finish her little nap when Leona had instantly wrapped himself in every last blanket on the bed, trying to warm himself up as best he could.

“Really, Cubby?” Morel asked, laughing a bit as her husband began to pout.

“I grew up on the savanna! I’m not built for this!” Leona hissed, no bite to his words whatsoever.

“Oh, poor baby,” Morel cooed, using her baby voice as she crawled onto the bed and wrapped her arms around Leona—as best as she could, given the mountain of blankets he wrapped himself in compared to her small size. “Do you need to be wrapped and swaddled up like Gardenia, Cubby!?”

“You’re lucky you’re my mate, or I’d claw out your tongue,” Leona threatened emptily, leaning into his wife’s embrace. Though it was subtle thanks to the layers of blankets, he could feet her body heat and it made him feel even warmer.

Throughout the first few nights, Leona wasn’t very happy. Even inside, he was still chilled to the bone and sat the closest to the fireplace he could, often holding his napping daughter while idle chatter or the chaos of a competitive board game filled the space.

But, as they reached the middle of their first week in Finnian’s home, Leona realized something amazing about the cold.

Not only was it an excuse to lovingly smother Morel with cuddles in bed as they slept, but Leona had more leverage to keep her in bed with him due to the warmth and comfort of both the blankets and his embrace, especially since Morel’s small size meant she got cold much quicker than he did. This revelation made him even clingier, holding onto Morel with a gentle but firm grip and trying every way he knew how to keep her laying in bed with him even for just a few more minutes.

Which brings us to the morning towards the end of their first week.

Nothing was planned for the household today. Since going outside and letting Gardenia see the snow for the first time in person yesterday, everyone silently decided to just stay inside for the day since it was still snowing quite heavily. Though they had extra blankets and each other’s body heat, Leona could still feel the cold of the room around his head, especially around his sensitive ears. He’d planned to stay in bed with his wife until noon, but said wife’s father had different plans.

Plans that started at six thirty in the morning.

“Morel?” Finnian asked softly as he gently tapped on the door a few times before poking his head inside. Leona was still asleep like the dead, but Morel murmured and sat up to face her father as he said her name. Even as an infant she was a light sleeper, a trait that unfortunately contributed to her being an early bird. “I’m sorry I woke you up, but I was wondering if you three would be out for breakfast?”

Morel yawned a bit, rubbing one of her eyes with her hand before she answered, “Possibly. But, given Leona’s sleeping habits, don’t count on it.”

“Alright, my dear,” Finnian nodded. “Have a good morning.”

Morel sleepily waved after her father as he left, gently shutting the door and walking down the hall to the kitchen. The white haired woman was about to go back to sleep for a bit—she was especially tired after Gardenia was up so late last night thanks to Morel’s half-brothers playing with her—but she felt her bladder press inside of her. Morel groaned, feeling too cozy to want to leave her bed with her husband, but also not in the mood to hold it and possibly piss in the bed if she did fall back asleep.

But—and she should’ve seen this coming—just as Morel moved to get up and leave the bed, Leona’s arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back down. With a small “oof” she was back to being snuggled up to her husband’s chest.

“Leona, let me go, I have to get up,” Morel laughed sleepily, trying to remain quiet so she wouldn’t wake Gardenia up. Though the cub slept like a corps much like her father most of the time, she could also sleep lightly just like her mother.

“No,” Leona replied simply, planting a small but firm kiss on his wife’s forehead. “Stay in bed with me, Herbivore.”

“Kitty, I know you’re cozy, but it’ll just be for a few minutes at most,” Morel sighed, trying to squirm out of Leona’s grip.

“No, it can wait,” Leona murmured, gently pulling Morel closer to him. “It can wait until about noon.”

“It really can’t, Kitty. I need you to let me go,” Morel sighed, still attempting to escape her clingy husband. She loved him and cuddling with him, but she’d rather not do that on urine soaked sheets and possibly piss on him as well.

With a huff, Leona pulled his wife on top of him before murmuring, “Hey, it’s cold outside, yeah? Stay a bit longer, Herbivore.”

“I would love to, but I wouldn’t love pissing all over you and the sheets,” Morel replied, earning a groan and a pit from Leona. With a laugh, the white hearted woman kissed her husband’s cheek with a smile. “If I give you a good enough deal, will you let me go?”

“How good are we talkin’, Morel?” Leona queried, raising an eyebrow.

“If you let me go to the bathroom and get Gardenia some breakfast, and you change Gardenia, you can stay in bed with us until lunch around one,” Morel offered with a smile, watching Leona think as the cogs and gears turned in his mind. “Do we have a deal, Cubby?”

“As long as you quit it with that stupid name, we sure as hell do,” Leona replied after a moment, giving his wife a peck on the forehead before releasing her.

Morel gave Leona a kiss on the cheek as a small show of gratitude before she left the room. She hadn’t realized how badly she needed to pee until the need his her like a truck halfway to the bathroom and the poor woman ended up cutting off her younger half-brother just so she wouldn’t piss herself.

“Really, Ellie?” he asked, more so playfully than actually upset.

“If you wanted me to piss right outside your bedroom, I would’ve done it!” Morel retorted playfully from inside the bathroom, letting out a much-needed sigh of relief. “I may be an adult and a mother, but I’m also the pettiest woman you’ll ever meet in your entire life!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” her half-brother quickly stated with a small laugh before he very nervously continued, “please don’t piss outside of my bedroom.”

Morel chuckled as she finished washing and drying her hands and opened the bathroom door, “Be nice to me and I won’t.”

“Fine, fi- Hey!” the younger boy quickly protested as Morel pat him on the head two times before walking back down the hall, blinding towards the kitchen.

The white haired woman smiled as she rounded the corner into the kitchen where Finnian was busying himself with making breakfast and reminding his daughter where she got her love of cooking from.

“Papa, do you have a small plate I can take for Dena to eat?” Morel asked as she took a couple of water bottles from the fridge. “I’ve made a deal with Leona that will require all three of us to stay in bed until around lunchtime.”

“I figured you’d say something like that when you eventually came out, so the answer is yes, there’s a plate for the baby,” Finnian replied, gesturing to the island. There was a tiny plate with some eggs and cut up bits of sausage on it, a tiny baby spoon sitting next to it.

“Thank you, Papa,” Morel smiled, hugging her father, who quickly moved to reciprocate the gesture. “You are so sweet. I love you.”

“I love you more, my darling Clementine,” Finnian sighed, patting his daughter’s head once they both pulled away from each other. “And you don’t have to thank me. I would never deprive a sweet baby of her right to eat, much less my own granddaughter. What kind of opa do you think I am?”

“A very good one,” Morel replied as she took the plate and spoon from the island, holding the bottles of water with her arm. “I’ll see you around lunch, Papa.”

“Make sure you and Leona eat at some point today, Morel,” Finnian smiled after his daughter, watching her turn the corner to exit the kitchen before calmly going back to preparing breakfast for everyone else in the house.

Meanwhile, Morel had made her way back down the hall and quietly entered the room her and her family were using for their trip, trying to not disturb anyone else in the house. The white haired woman quietly shut the door behind her before she turned around and stopped once she noticed Leona and Gardenia staring at her.

“Finally, I thought you’d run off or something, Herbivore,” Leona grumbled, not bite to his words whatsoever. He was too soft around his wife and daughter to ever actually have any sort of bite to his words at all.

Gardenia seemed to have been impatiently waiting for her mother as well, making grabby hands at her as she babbled, “Mama! Mama! Mama!”

Morel smiled at her daughter before she tossed a bottle of water to Leona, who expertly caught it thanks to his cat reflexes, before making her way to her side of the bed. The short woman set down her own water bottle and the plate of food on the nightstand before she crawled onto the bed, shuffling until she was under the covers and finally a bit more warm. But, she didn’t have long to get too comfortable, however. Leona quickly pulled his wife towards him and just as quickly maneuvered himself, Morel, Gardenia, and even the blankets to create a perfect nest of blankets wrapped around the three of the in the middle of the bed.

“Well, hello to you, too,” Morel chuckled as she gently took Gardenia into her arms. “Did I make my kitty wait too long?”

“Damn fuckin’ straight,” Leona sighed, burying his face into the crook of his wife’s neck as she hissed at him to watch his language in front of their very young and impressionable daughter. “I love Nina, but she isn’t big enough to fully cuddle with and use as a nice and soft pillow.”

“Well, you could, but you’d crush her,” Morel laughed lightly, Leona pouting and bumping her shoulder blade with his head.

“Papa! Papa!” Gardenia babbled, making grabby hands at her father as she saw his ears.

Leona let out a laugh through his nose, resting his chin on Morel’s shoulder as he raised an eyebrow at his daughter with a grin, “What do you want, brat?”

“Papa!” Gardenia repeated, leaning towards him and wiggling her little body as she puffed out her chubby cheeks in a pout. “Papa!”

“I think someone wants her papa’s ears,” Morel giggled playfully, moving one of her hands to gently tug on one of Leona’s soft ears.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Leona sighed, gently pulling Morel’s hand away from his ear before giving his hand to his daughter, who happily took it and began to gnaw on his pointer finger. “She can have my hand to use as a teething toy instead.”

“Stingy,” Morel hummed playfully, no actual bite to her words other than soft sarcasm, as she kissed Leona’s cheek and leaned her head against his.

It was cold outside. But, within their tiny nest of blankets on the bed, it was rather warm. And no one planned to leave for quite a while, especially after Leona and Gardenia fell asleep again while Morel simply smiled and gently pet both of her sleepy kitties.

A/N: HELL, YEAH, GOT IT DONE BEFORE CHRISTMAS EVE! I hope all of you enjoyed this little fic of Leona and Morel’s first holiday season as parents with Gardenia and have a wonderful rest of your holiday season! Especially since I’ve got one more piece planned that may or may not come out tomorrow!

[valeovalairs]

You can pry girl dad Mark Winters out of my cold dead hands.

[corviiids]

THANKS @kimdokjafan you are so kind and generous. ok im cashing in the first of three blank checks to talk about faith trust and pixie dust (most recent chatfic) because the last two directors commentaries were too serious so let's do a silly one.

some p5r spoilers, and this is mostly about sumire, and it's long again. do i need to keep disclaiming that these are long? you should know me by now.

i had this written for a while before i started formatting it because i wasn't really sure if i should post it? i feel like silly chatfic is something people go to for predominantly lighthearted nonsense so i was like, maybe there's too much plot and dramatic misunderstanding and i should just keep this one for myself. but then i was like well nothing matters and maybe someone will have fun with it. it's kind of terrible how much fully or mostly completed fic there is my docs that just doesn't see the light of day lol. write for yourself etc but i like sharing! too bad it comes with the mortifying ordeal etc. anyway that was a tangent

potato counter is a neopets game. there's no deep lore i just like neopets. i guess in this universe ryuji doesn't play neopets? or maybe he's just never played potato counter specifically. i also have a different fic where ryuji DOES play neopets. it's about neopets and ryuji and goro talking on neopets.

i think this might literally be the first time ive written sumi in a fic because i haven't actually written that much fic for royal, like, now that im looking, literally almost none? and none that had a group dynamic. so it was kind of fun to find her voice for the first time in a silly groupchat like this. i was worried people would find her exclamation marks annoying but i personally thought it was endearing so i added it in there.

every time i do a gag where a character corrects their own typo i have to code more stupid little bubbles to make it happen but i think it's worth it. all the effort that goes into making tgis look as much like a real chat as possible

this obviously doesnt take place in the canon p5/r universe, but im imagining sort of a postcanon sumi personality where she's more comfortable being herself and isn't borrowing kasumi's brand of confidence, but she's visibly a really anxious person without that kasumi veneer. i also think in this universe sumire is a fairly recent addition to the friend group, and while everyone likes her a lot and she really likes them, i kind of wanted to emphasise that feeling of being in a friend group where everyone's established and you're sort of a plus-one? you don't really fit yet. part of that is her being new, part of it is her anxiety, part of it is just the kind of person sumi is where she's so polite and self-conscious she ends up taking herself out of things with her own good intentions. stuff like her interrupting the flow of an existing conversation by greeting everyone instead of jumping straight in because she doesn't feel comfortable inserting herself, which means everyone else stops to greet her even though that doesn't normally happen in a friend group, or making a point of thanking everyone for being invited to events while the others take it as a given.

idk i love that she feels a bit out of place with the phantom thieves in p5r. and part of that is a natural consequence of being a new addition in royal who can't be naturally integrated with an existing dynamic but i honestly feel like the writing team realised that and acknowledged it, and really leaned into it, and that made it work incredibly well for me. like, it's part of her character that she's sort of an outsider. it's not like p4g's incredibly clumsy integration of marie and subsequent attempt to shove her down everyone's throat as the canon love interest in p4ga (knife). sumi has that outsider vibe on purpose and it makes me really like her dynamic with the thieves as an individual

goro also feels slightly out of place in these chats, but his conversational style blends more naturally with the other thieves at this point and he even uses their codenames sometimes. i keep saying my chatfic series isn't a real Series because the lore keeps changing, but if we accept that they're all kind of following a General Continuity, assume this takes place some time after the last fic in which ren added goro to the groupchat and they made an effort to integrate him into their friend group. he's kind of there now and has settled into being the weird boyfriend. that's his role.

every time goro says something like "ren and i" assume it's the text equivalent of him talking to the group with his arm around ren's waist.

ok i got really fond of this silly running joke where sumi brings up the weather when she's feeling uncomfortable. she's so polite. i like this thread because setting it up meant i got to tie it off like this:

this just made me happy lol i liked writing this. i tried to use it to demonstrate that despite goro's abrasiveness he obviously knows sumire pretty well, he's attuned to her quirks and knows how to tell when she's having a bad time with her anxiety, so he uses her little weather habit to ground her.

i honestly dont think goro and sumire could be considered close in p5r and as much as i like the "royal trio" in canon they're not really... like... friends? with each other? they're both attached to ren, so it' more a V shape than anything else. but that said, i really LIKE goro and sumi's canon dynamic. he takes a really grouchy but politely attentive supervisory role to her during their few forays into the palace as a trio where he doesn't really know her well but clearly identifies her as a harmless little tryhard who needs some guidance and steps into that role grudgingly, and she immediately looks up to him despite being very wrong footed by his ruthlessness, which i find incredibly charming. i think given time they could be good friends, they just didn't get much chance to know each other very well in canon. so i tried to kinda do that here.

once goro stops being evil and joins the group they all kind of tiredly accept that his role is to occasionally push a cup off a bench while smirking and refuse to clean it up. emotionally, i mean.

wait i need to backtrack chronologically to talk about akeshu.

in this scene they're in the same room lol talking and snickering while typing. im trying to get at that vibe of the annoying couple who is flirting with each other, via you. you know? like ostensibly they're talking to you (sumire) but everything they say to you is part of their stupid game. sumi is incidental to goro and ren teasing each other about flirting with someone else, goro is reporting everything ren says because his boyfriend is so eye-rollingly foolish in a cute way. they're very tickled by how amusing and charming they are. gross. disgusting. sumire im so sorry for putting you through this

anyway here are too many of my favourite jokes from the fic