#but does not find motherhood easy or natural

[mermaidsirennikita]

"he reaches out to protect the heroine..."

:)

"... and the two small children in her care"

:(

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ - discussion of postpartum depression, lactation kink.

Orion’s father inserted himself into your life with an authority that, quite frankly, has shocked you.

You expected him to be a dead beat. An absentee. You never really expected to find him in the first place, let alone almost run straight into him on the street.

It was almost like you could feel him on the sidewalk before you saw him. Your body knew, still carried the memories, the imprint of him lingering on your skin, inside you. Orion had his DNA in his veins, and now you had Orion’s in yours.

Shared pieces, twisted together in an imbalanced double helix-

Exposing you for all your transgressions, your failures, your misery.

It’s a special kind of shame, to look your baby’s father in the face and tell him you’re not a good mother to his child. That you’re failing Orion. That you don’t know if you can do it.

The truth is motherhood is not natural or beautiful, like everyone says it is, and it doesn’t come easy, like it seems to do for most. You don’t even feel like you’re bonded to your son, and it’s like you’re a stranger to him. More failure.

They pile advice on top of you in heaps, your mother, your aunts, the friends that have stuck around, sleep when the baby sleeps, let him cry it out, don’t let him cry it out, put him down, pick him up, don’t feed at night, don’t miss a feeding-

All the while, no one shows up. Not truly. They’re here, and there, but your previous fierce independent streak has done you no favors, and no one seems to notice you’re barely holding your head above water. They want to see the baby, hold the baby, cuddle the baby. No one wants to help you wash your milk crusted sheets or clothes, no one wants to pick up your groceries or do your dishes. They want to bring a roast for your fridge, and then they want Orion.

And it’s easy to fake getting by. Struggling but smiling. Motherhood is such a joy. It’s so wonderful. Being a single mom is tough, but worth it. It’s…

It’s so hard.

You don’t have a schedule, a life, a sense of normalcy. Instead of sleeping when Ry does, you cry. You don’t feel like yourself, you don’t know how to do this, you don’t know how you’re even going to make it to the next day sometimes.

And no one really seems to notice you, until Simon shows up.

Simon, who doesn’t seem to care that you’ve tried to assure him you’re fine. Simon, for all intents and purposes, has put a foot down and refused to budge. Simon, who no matter how hard you try to tell him you’re okay, has shouldered his way into your life without a single complaint about the sudden fatherhood thrust upon him.

He’s a stranger, at the end of it all, a man you shared a single night with, a man you know almost nothing about.

Even though that night has always felt like so much more, an impossible connection built in the dark between indecipherable words and whispers.

And now this stranger has planted on himself on the ground in front of you, like a tether to reality. A land line to your sanity. A hand to hold…

A person who sees you.

“I’m right here,” he promised, “I’m going to take care of you.”

He wanted in, and you stopped coming up with reasons or excuses to fend him off. You bent and bent and bent under the pressure of being a mother until you broke-

And he was there.

Someone is calling your name. There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder, and then smoothing over your forehead, fingertips lingering on the apple of your cheek. You blink fuzzily, slowly realizing you must have fallen asleep on the couch. “C’mon mama, let’s get you to bed.” You peer over his shoulder at the kitchen, barely registering how clean it is, the lack of dirty dishes, the empty trash can, the wiped down cabinets and countertops.

“Sorry… I fell asleep. I should’ve-“

“It’s alright, wanted to let you get some rest.” His arms, massive and corded with muscle, slide under your knees and back, and you study his tattoos as intently as you can, for being half asleep. “‘m gonna pick you up.”

“Okay.” You sigh, and his chest vibrates with a low chuckle. It feels safe, you feel nearly relaxed, no fight left in you, all resistance and denial leeched from your bones. “Ry?”

“Fed two hours ago with what you had in the fridge. Still asleep now.” Warmth ghosts atop your head, and you snuggle farther into his chest, unable to help yourself.

“How long was I out?”

“Almost five hours.” You blink, and then, like his words have summoned full body awareness- you wince.

Fuck.

“What is it?” He’s immediately tense, slowly pushing open your bedroom door.

“I’m… sore.” You grimace, trying to keep your chest away from him as he lowers you into bed. “They’re… he usually eats… sooner. They get… too full.” Your face burns, humiliated and awkward. Nothing like telling your very attractive baby daddy that you’re full too of milk. His head cocks.

“Is there a way to fix that?” He’s sitting at your hip, hand casually braced on your thigh, thumb rubbing circles overtop the sheet.

“I could pump but, it really hurts.” Your voice cracks on the admission. You can’t imagine anything you want to do less in this moment, especially with him here. “A warm washcloth usually helps but…”

“I’ll get one.” He tips forward at the waist, and presses a kiss right to your forehead. “Stay put.” You lean back against the pillows, and close your eyes. You hear him the bathroom, tap running, door opening and closing, and then the bed dips. “Can I help you with that?” He points at your t shirt, and you nod. Lifting it over your own head sounds uncomfortable, and you don’t even flinch when his fingers brush your stomach as he peels it up and over.

There’s a moment, a quiet one, where you just stare at each other. His eyebrows crease, dark brown eyes turning soft and sweet, flicking down to your lips and then back up. It’s frighteningly intimate, being so vulnerable, rubbed raw by motherhood and then comforted by the man who gave it to you, and when you look into his eyes, you can feel it all, everything you felt that night, the connection, the desire to know more, feel more, push past everything and dig until your strike true, until you can touch his heart.

Maybe it’s the hormones. The baby. The fact that he’s here, holding you steady, true to his promise.

You loop a forearm over the back of his neck, and tug, jolting him forward, close enough that your noses touch, and his lips graze yours before he pulls back, cradling your face with his free hand. “Want somethin’ mama?”

“Yes.” You whisper. Your breasts ache, but the pain is second to the way you drown in his dark gaze.

“Need you to ask for it, sweet girl.”

“I- I want… to kiss you.” It feels like taking a plunge, ripping a band aid off, and he only smiles at you in return, before leaning in and pressing his mouth to yours.

It’s a memory. An explosion. A rush of the last time, the first time, the only time. Ocean water, spring air, woodsmoke under your fingertips. Fragments of a few favorite things, sealed in a kiss. A dizzying ride that sucks you dry, spills your blood into his, twists the two of together until you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to let go.

You almost, almost whine when he pulls away.

“Washcloth is cold.” He murmurs, making his way back to the bathroom and restarting the process. His muscles flex under his t shirt as he turns the sink on and off, wringing the cloth out. You unhook a bra strap, and when he returns to the seat at your hip, you gulp.

“T-thanks.” You reach, but don’t tug it into your grasp. Instead, the side of your arm bumps against the swollen firmness of your breast, and you hiss.

“I’ve got you. Let me help.” He says softly, peeling the fabric away until you’re exposed, darkened nipples straining in the dim light of your bedroom. Fingertips trace barely there touch across your skin, and he whispers reverently. “You feed our baby with these, mama.”

“They hurt.” Your voice trembles, and he nods sympathetically.

“I know.” He presses the cloth to your skin, brow furrowed with concentration. His eyes flick up to yours, and then back down, thumb gently rubbing a semi circle under the curve of your breast. “Feel okay?” His voice is a rasp, and you nod.

“Y-yeah… um-“ you trail off, half wishing you could disappear into this bed. “I need a little bit of pressure, to help… express.” It’s the least sexiest word in the English language, you think. Express.

He palms you, gently, and then squeezes with easy pressure. The sound you make is a half moan, half gasp of pain, and he soothes you. “I know honey, I know. I’m sorry.” You tip your head back, waiting, hoping to feel the slow pulse of relief, the slow give of an ache subsiding. His thumb traces your nipple and then rolls over it, still kneading and pressing with his other fingers and palm, hot cloth starting to turn cool.

And then-

You feel it. Your body catches up to your brain, finally leaking, warmth spilling over his hand, down the front of your bra and belly. “Oh my god.” You moan, and he huffs, still rubbing your nipple in a soothing pattern, gaze locked on your chest.

“Good girl.” He murmurs, and then gives you another squeeze. “Feel good?”

“Yeah.” You tip your head to the side, watching him, tracing his nose, his lips, the shape of his eyes. Your baby’s face, through and through. “So good.” It spills over the back of his fingers and he pulls it away, lifting his thumb to his mouth. His lashes flutter against his cheeks, and a noise rumbles in his chest. “Oh-“ you lose your words. Your thoughts. Your focus. You’re frozen, confused and electric like a live wire.

“Y’taste good mama. Sweet.” You gulp. He ducks his head, brushing his lips against yours briefly before dipping lower, cupping as much of you as he can and swirling his tongue across your nipple, lips closing around it and sucking with a satisfied sigh.

“Si- Simon.” It feels good. It feels wrong, that it feels good, but it does. You’re spilling into his mouth, pain and soreness flitting away by the second, strong arms cradling you close to his body. It’s the first time in a long time, that you’ve felt something, anything, close to desire. Arousal has been fleeting since having a baby, but somehow, fire burns between your legs. He pulls away, nipple popping free, and you sag in the bed. With a smirk, his eyes wander to your other side, the unattended one, heavy and full beneath his gaze.

“I’ll get a new cloth.”

[grimgrazia]

Makima and Motherhood

The symbolism Fujimoto uses to connect Makima to maternity is something that really stands out to me in CSM part 1. Even without the visuals, Makima’s demeanor alone is very “parental,” (not necessarily in a good way, but she still has that presence about her.) To be clear, this analysis will focus more on the connection between Makima and motherhood, the symbolism Fujimoto uses, as well as the irony behind it. I plan on doing an entirely separate analysis for her character in general.

Before getting into the manga, I want to point out some of the imagery used in the anime. A very well known frame from the anime comes from its third ending. Makima is depicted as the Virgin Mary, floating in front of a kneeling Denji, who looks as if he’s worshipping or praying. A lot of people use this scene for bf/gf memes which I kind of find funny (and low-key Freudian). The visual is not really emphasizing Denji’s infatuation with Makima but rather her control over him, which stems from Denji’s desire for a mother figure.

One of the most misinterpreted parts of CSM is Denji and Makima’s dynamic. People often describe Makima as someone who used seduction to manipulate Denji but that’s not really the case. However, to say that she didn’t explore this tactic in the beginning of the manga would be a complete lie. Where she really becomes a mother towards Denji is, ironically, on their movie “date.” The movie theatre scene is a crucial moment for both of their characters but I’ll touch on that later.

For many people, mothers are viewed as this authoritative role model for most of their childhood. Anything she says or does must be correct because she is your mother. It’s easy to look back when you are older and call children stupid for it, but it’s natural instinct. Mothers for many are a source of security and comfort. That is what Denji saw in Makima. That is what Makima wanted Denji to see in her.

When reading CSM, it’s obvious that Makima groomed Denji but I feel like not many people acknowledge how she groomed him and why it’s so disturbing. Like I said earlier, it’s true that she explored seducing Denji but she abandons this idea once she realizes what it is Denji truly longs for, even if he doesn’t realize it himself. He wants the security and comfort only a mother and a family can offer, so she provides exactly that for him. What’s ironic about it is she’s giving Denji exactly what she wants, which probably contributes to her jealousy and hatred for him. What she’d Denji into such shock at the end of Part 1 is that on top of the people he cared about being killed, he learns that the only person he had was 1.) not really a “person” at all and 2.) hiding her animosity towards him in order to manipulate him. I can only imagine how baffling it must be for your own “mother,” who’d showered you in affection since the day you were born, to all of the sudden flip the switch in the cruelest way imaginable.

Also, it is important to understand that multiple things can be true at once. Makima was never attracted to Denji romantically, sexually, or even platonically. In fact, she makes it quite clear at the end of Part 1 that she views him as insignificant and distasteful. It’s a bit shocking considering how much attention and effort it would take to manipulate someone like that. However, this doesn’t change the fact that she groomed him.

It’s common for their to be some sense of attachment to an abuser, especially in a familial scenario like the one that plays out here. A very sad and disturbing part of all of this is how Denji, despite everything Makima has done, is extremely hurt by the fact Makima cannot even remember his scent let alone his face. That being said, I love how a huge reason Denji defeats Makima is because she only recognized Chainsawman’s scent, not Denji’s.

Although it’s sad, I do like the way Fujimoto hints at Makima only seeing Pochita, not Denji. For example, every time Makima and Denji hug, Makima puts her head on Denji’s chest, right over where his “heart,” Pochita, is. My personal favorite detail is the image of Makima reflected in the chainsaw’s blade. Even as Denji is attacking her, her eyes aren’t focused on the assailant but the weapon because it is a chainsaw. It’s a really creative way of showing that Makima’s fixation was solely on Chainsawman, not Denji. She didn’t even recognize Denji without Pochita as his heart.

As I mentioned before, Makima is depicted as the Virgin Mary a lot. Despite being such a dark character, she’s often engulfed by a warm light in these images to compliment the illusion of safety and love she creates. One of these comes from Chainsawman ending 5, where for a brief moment a painting of Denji and Makima, that is a reference to Michelangelo’s “La Pietà,” can be seen. The reference to this famous sculpture is another nod to the mother-son dynamic between Denji and Makima as well as a way of foreshadowing Makima’s intention to bring Chainsawman back, but let Denji die in the process.

**Another cool detail is how the shadow of the window pane looks like a cross. I love all the religious symbolism so much.**

Another interesting part of their dynamic is the idolization. Denji puts Makima, someone who doesn’t care about him, on a pedestal. He sees her in a divine light. Interestingly enough, Makima admires Chainsawman in a similar way. What Makima and Denji have in common here is that neither devil they look up to truly acknowledges their existence as an individual. This is just one of the many ways in which Makima and Denji parallel each other.

An iconic yet ambiguous part of the manga is Denji and Makima’s movie theatre hopping spree. (On a separate note, that actually seems like so much fun.) They culminate their movie marathon with a Soviet film called “Ballad of a Soldier.” To better understand the manga I watched this movie on my own and I can confirm, it’s sad. Makima’s emotional response to it is probably the most memorable part of the entire ordeal. She sheds tears as the mother and son embrace in the film.

A person might cry during a movie because they can sympathize with the characters or situations. It’s difficult to realize this unless you take a step back and ask why a certain scene made you cry, because it’s a lot more than “it was sad.” In Makima’s case, she is not crying out of sympathy, but out of yearning. The relationship depicted in the film is what she wants. Denji is crying beside her as well because he also wants that type of relationship. They both want a family, a stable source of security and comfort. This scene is also alluding to what Pochita tells Denji at the end of part 1. He tells Denji to give Nayuta lots of hugs, to become the family Makima didn’t have.

It’s also interesting how Denji and Makima’s roles flip in part 2. Obviously she is no longer Makima, as her new incarnation is Nayuta, but I believe this was very intentional. Denji sort of becomes a parental role model to Nayuta, much like how Denji viewed Makima. Only this time, it’s genuine. Another reason I really like Nayuta’s character is because of how different she is from Makima. It’s fun to compare and contrast their characters. I really love the parallels. Character design wise, I like how Fujimoto kept the braid. It’s symbolic of not just the control devil’s chains, but bonds.

Speaking of chains, the chains coming from Makima’s womb are also symbolic of maternity. The first time she’s shown using this power is during the infamous Gun Devil showdown. It seems the chains grant her the ability to use the powers and contracts of other devils and humans. The chains seem to connect to the navels of those she controls, acting as an umbilical cord of sorts.

Obviously the uterus to navel connection is symbolic of motherhood, but why chains? The chains are also symbolic of the dynamic between Makima and other characters. She can’t form genuine connections, so she uses her powers. The chains are representative of how people’s admiration of her isn’t a choice. She’s using her powers for her own agenda, but she also may be trying to feel less lonely. However, even she knows it doesn’t substitute a real relationship. Her power requires her to have a superiority complex, and it’s her nature as the control devil that makes it so hard to achieve her dreams. Makima does understand that all of her relationships are superficial, and it bothers her.

Despite all of these roadblocks, it is not impossible for the control devil to form a bond. Pochita knew this and Nayuta is proof of it. I believe Makima was capable of forming those bonds at one point in her life, but ultimately her upbringing destroyed any possibilities of that happening by the time Part 1 begins.

I post these on tiktok before tumblr because I write them in Pages, and it takes a while to put the pictures in on here. I gave up on my Denji and Doors analysis with the photos but I’ll try to be better about it moving forward because I do think visuals are important.

[ride-thedragon]

HOTD CHARACTERS AS ALBUMS:

Alicent Hightower as 30 by Adele.

Now that we are finally here, and I'm starting with my faves.

What is 30 by Adele?

It's her latest album that covers the topic of her divorce and the challenges she faces in the wake of it with the idea of motherhood impacting her decisions and thoughts around this time. Her signature ballads and intertwining of genres are apparent, but the story she invokes is that of trials and a time of change in her life.

So Alicent?

Yes. It's the album I think best fits her arc in season one and prepares for the rest. Let's go through this song by song. But also go listen to the album and think of her because at the end of the day. This is my interpretation.

30 x Alicent.

Strangers By Nature

Now, this first song is the introduction to the album. She's apologising to Lovers from the past, the present, and the ones in the dark. Taking back anything done wrong against them and saying that by the end, they were all strangers by nature to her.

If we are talking about Alicent I think that's were season 1 leaves her. So much is being uncovered about her and her character especially outside of Viserys in Episode 9 I think it's a good song within that context.

No one really knows her now, fully to her entire extent. How she loves, what she does to ensure she's kept aware of situations, what she stillnholds on to is kept guarded and compartmentalised for certain things.

Easy on Me.

This was the biggest hit off the album. It's a song about a dissolving marriage, a song dedicated to her child and childhood, and overall, it is very Alicent.

I think it applies well as a reflection of who she had been. Trying to balance her love for Rhaenyra and her duty to her father and Viserys. The betrayal and anger and disagreements she found herself in.

Say what you will but as the bridge of the song puts it,

"I had good intentions

And the highest hopes

But I know right now

It probably doesn't even show."

If that isn't her, what is?

My Little Love

Now I find Adele just extremely Alicent coded, but the reason I chose this album instead of 21 or 25, for example, is because this album was dedicated to her child.

I refuse to explain this one. Go think of these gay lovers and cry your heart out because it hurts.

But also, it's a song of her explaining everything up until her divorce to her son. Kind of reckoning with the failure she feels and how stuck and stranding it all is.

For Alicent, I think it's the same. By the end, she's reconciling her past with her future. Trying to appease her want for Aegon to be crowned with her love for Rhaenyra and to an extent Viserys. She's also around all her children in episode 9, which is interesting when thinking about the song.

Cry Your Heart Out

Hello, season 2 Alicent. I genuinely think this is the direction it is going to go in because its just tragedy after tragedy for them. Especially when we see her under water and near water so much, baby girl, cry your heart out, it'll clean your face.

Oh My God

Alicole girls. Hi.

This is entirely Criston and Alicent coded for whatever they have going on.

I'm having a hard time doing this because I want you guys to go listen to it. But basically, the song is about this guy who she's with during this time who's her place of refuge with all he conflicting narratives and lies around her.

Also religion.

Can I Get It?

Otto fans, Rhaenyra fans, Alicent fans, and fans of her children. You get to decide who this is about. It's about wanting to be someone's after everything you've done for them, everything you've been through to be at their side. Counting for someone to put you back together after everything is...

I Drink Wine

Hey alcoholism. Genuinely, this is thee Rhaenicent song of the Album. How can someone become so bounded by the choices somebody else makes? And it just goes down from there.

All Night Parking Interlude

I'm going to say Criston. I think they genuinely found a sense of home together.

Woman Like Me:

Hello episode 1 to 10 Rhaenicent. Hello, Viserys Targaryen. It's basically her saying, "How dare you?" Do you know who I am? What is expected? And slaying.

Hold On

Episode 8 Alicent Hightower, the woman you are.

To Be Loved

Season 2 Alicent. "I will choose to lose it's a sacrifice" and "you have no idea the sacrifices made to put you on that throne." That arc is going to play out so well. I'm geeked. An ode to her conversation with Rhaenys as well.

Love is a Game

The effect of Otto Hightower on women recorded by Adele.

Wild, Wild West

Now, this is such a random part of the album, but I do think it's a part of the charm. Unlike Larys Strong, who I hope burns in hell. Anyways, because big pivotal moments happen to her in different places, let's say rats what this is.

Can't be Together

Rhaenyra and Alicent, the tragedy you are. I'm so sorry I wasn't it westeros to save you from this.

Conclusion

Listen to the album Alicent folk. Listen and see if it's your pick. It's certainly mine.

Next up is her counterpart, Rhaenyra.

[blackmoonowl]

fo4 companions as dads? :0

Fo4 companions as parents!

Added female companions too, also I know Hancock and Valentine both can't have kids, so just imagine them as adoptive/stepparents. I also know it's not really clear as to whether or not synths can reproduce.

Headcanons, talk of pregnancy, obviously.

Cait:

❤︎ Having kids was never part of Cait's plans for the future. Taking care of little snots while working a career at the combat zone was pretty much impossible. To add to that, her own awful upbringing made her afraid.

❤︎ So when the two of you were expecting a little one of your own, she panicked. She loved the kid, she truly did. But she had no clue how she was gonna go about it. There was now a tiny human being that relied on her for everything.

❤︎ Stand offish and distant with the child at first. She is scared to hold them, feed them or generally deal with them, afraid to harm them like her parents did to her. Just about broke down crying once out of frustration and helpnessness.

❤︎ Slowly settles into it with your help. The woman will hold the kid more often, loosen up and actually try to enjoy parenting a little. Motherhood still makes her wanna tear her hair out sometimes, but she'll never let anything happen to them.

❤︎ Bonding with the child is bittersweet for her. On the one hand she is happy that her child isn't afraid of her, relishing in how they run as fast as their little legs can carry them to get their moms comfort after scraping a knee. On the other hand, it dawns on her even more just how shitty her life was before.

❤︎ Not the gentlest parent. Cait has affectionately called your child a 'little shite' on more than one occasion. And while she keeps them away from chems, as they become teens she might give them a little sip of booze every now and then.

Curie:

❤︎ Curie is a walking database of medical knowledge and other important information, so she is probably the best equipped for taking care of a little one. She just wasn't expecting the parental affection to hit her like a trainwreck.

❤︎ Adjusts to parenthood pretty well, all things considered. She has to grapple with newfound emotions, but she can pull herself together enough to take care of the kid. She's a lot more energetic than you when it comes to late night feedings and changing filthy clothes.

❤︎ You have a very healthy child. Curie closely monitors the child's health wherever she can. She tries to find the best foods for them to eat, gets them to avoid stress and keep up good hygiene. It can get a little annoying for the little one, but she means well.

❤︎ Discipline isn't her strong suit. She's not confrontational and the little tear filled tantrums tug on her heart strings. Her logical side knows she has to stand her ground, but her newer, emotional side just wants to hug them and make the crying stop.

❤︎ Probably the calmest when the child does something out of the ordinary. Likely has had to reassure you that a young child not breathing for three seconds isn't any cause for concern. Also fusses less when the child gets scrapes or cuts, unless they're serious.

❤︎ Loves teaching the child everything she knows. Practically homeschools them with a crap ton of medical information and how to treat their own wounds. She thinks education is incredibly important and wants the child to be prepared.

Danse:

❤︎ Danse has had thoughts of being a father before, an idea he abandoned when he found out he was a synth. He wasn't expecting to have a little one of his own, but he couldn't be happier about it. It may not have been what he expected, but he was going to be the best damn dad he could be.

❤︎ Does everything in his power to keep his new little family safe. He fusses over your health and reminds you constantly to take it easy. He keeps the stoic face, but on the inside the former paladin partly feels like he doesn't deserve this, and is afraid his nature as a synth will come back to cause problems.

❤︎ Completely smitten with his little son or daughter. He could spend hours just holding their fragile body in his strong arms. Danse would do anything for them, no matter the cost. That deep seated loyalty once reserved for the Brotherhood now solely focused on his family.

❤︎ Bit of a stricter dad. Definitely wants the child to learn discipline. To tiny up their room, clean up after themselves and create structure in their life and routine. He's also firm in training them himself, wanting to make sure they can take care of themselves. Genuinely wants his kid to do better than him.

❤︎ If he has a daughter, he'd definitely would be a bit more protective of her, especially when it came to any potential partners. Doesn't matter what gender his child is, boyfriends and girlfriends have to meet him first before he lets them into the family.

❤︎ Incredibly proud of his children, but takes it a bit hard when they leave to be on their own. Doesn't matter how long it's been, he'll still go across the Commonwealth or further to visit them.

Deacon:

❤︎ Deacon loves kids, he even wanted his own with his late wife. But he doesn't know how to feel at the news. He'll love that kid more than anything else on this world, but he feels like he can't be a good dad. With his past and his job weighing on him, he feels like a liability. He's not even sure he wants the child to ever know his part in the Railroad.

❤︎ Stuck between wanting to be close to his family at all costs and staying away so the Institute or other anti-Railroad groups can't harm his child because of his job. He always has to have other agents watching over you before he feels even mildly comfortable letting you out of sight.

❤︎ A lot more hesitant about changing his appearance with surgery. At first he didn't think about it. But this is the face his kiddo is used to, the face that their little eyes light up at and reach out for. It just becomes a whole lot less appealing and he tries to avoid it.

❤︎ Hides his worry about his family very well. Deacon acts all carefree, gently tossing his child in the air and catching them or playfighting. He is the typical playful dad that sometimes acts as much as a child as the little one.

❤︎ Teaches the kid to be strong, but also accepting. He wants his child to never judge wastelanders that are different to humans, whether that be ghouls or synths. But above else Deacon wants them to be able to take care of themselves when he no longer can't.

❤︎ Worst sense of dad humor. Turns a lot of things into a joke when it's appropriate. It annoys the hell out of his next of kin, but he thinks it's funny.

John Hancock:

❤︎ Wasn't too sure about taking care of your kid. Don't get him wrong, he loves you, and by extension he also loves your little one. He's just not the best influence on a child. But he cares too much to stay away. He may have been a screw up, but at least he can prevent his newfound stepchild from ending up like him.

❤︎ Takes on a bit more of a fun uncle role to your child. Plays around with them, takes them on trips, will let them have a little sip of his booze if they're old enough. Definitely the fun (step)parent

❤︎ He's your childs scary dog privilege. Nobody dares to mess with Hancock's family, and he knows it. He sticks close to your childs side, glaring at anyone he deems a threat.

❤︎ Sometimes has Fahrenheit or the Neighbourhood watch babysit them while he's busy. You come back to heavily armed men and ghouls feeding them some sweets.

❤︎ Has cursed in front of your kid, will curse in front of them again. Your child learns some pretty colorful language from a young age, good luck for that.

❤︎ Makes dirty jokes to you as well. They're cryptic enough to where your child doesn't get why you're so flustered. They have a major realization about it when they're older.

Nick Valentine:

❤︎ Nick gets used to having your child around pretty fast. He likes kids, and he doesn't mind taking on a parental role whatsoever. At least, as far as you'll allow him to do so. Last thing he wants is to overstep any boundaries.

❤︎ Keeps your kid out of trouble. Scolds them when they sneak out or do anything stupid. He comes across like a grumpy old dad.

❤︎ Always finds out what your child is up to, nothing stays hidden from the old detective. Has found your young child back so many times when they ran off irresponsibly to go play.

❤︎ Is your childs shoulder to cry on. Nick is great at giving them advice, and generally listening to their problems. Your child sees him as someone they can closely trusted.

❤︎ Nick genuinely loves your child like his own. He'd sacrifice himself without second thought, and he counts his lucky stars that you let him into their life.

❤︎ One time he even got your child their own detective outfit, promising them a job at the detective agency when they're old enough to do so. Calls them his little detective.

Piper Wright:

❤︎ Piper was already raising her little sister, so she was a little bit hesitant to add another child into the mix, but she couldn't deny the appeal of a family. She wants to do right, to be a good parent.

❤︎ Definitely a playful mom. Piper likes playing around with the child, joking around. She loves lightly tossing them in the air and catching them.

❤︎ Nick Valentine is the usual babysitter. Piper rarely trusts anyone else to take care of them, given her reputation as the reporter troublemaker. Enough people have it out for her, and they're not above harming her family. Maybe Nat babysits when she's a little older.

❤︎ Speaking of people wanting to harm her or her family, she always keeps a close eye on the child at all times if she can help it. She's too scared something will happen to them if she turns away.

❤︎ Nat plays with her little niece / nephew a lot. While you and Piper make dinner or unwind, Nat will mess around with the childs toys or playfight them.

❤︎ Piper loves taking the child with her to run errands throughout Diamond city once she's more comfortable. It always ends with Piper taking them to noodle stand. It becomes a ritual.

Porter Gage:

❤︎ Gage never wanted to become a dad. He wasn't the fondest of kids, raising them as a raider was nigh impossible and he already had enough of a target on his back from the Nuka world raiders as is. He wasn't happy when he found out about the fact he was gonna have a child, but he wouldn't ever abandon you.

❤︎ Immediately goes to pulling strings to try and keep you safe. Keeping an ear out for anyone thinking this is a good time to try and take you out while you're vulnerable. You're quite literally the only person he cares about, and he downright refuses to lose you over this.

❤︎ Gage expected to hate parenthood, to resent his child because he had to sacrifice so much to keep safe a baby he didn't even want. He also hated seeing you suffer through the entire process, risking your own health. But when the tiny little hands grabbed onto his finger for the first time he was a goner.

❤︎ Being a dad at first isn't his favorite. He has to fight tooth and nail to keep the baby from getting killed. The crying, messes and late nights aren't helping. Still he couldn't imagine leaving them behind. He wants the kid to succeed in the world and there's nothing he wouldn't do for his family.

❤︎ Begins to enjoy being a dad a whole lot more when the child is a bit older and can talk, doing more things on their own. Assuming it's possible, Gage enjoys taking the child to play the games around Nuka world whenever he has time off. The innocent laughter from his child makes him feel like he's doing a good job shielding them from the harsh realities of the world. As far as it's possible in a place filled with raiders.

❤︎ Still he can't let his child grow up soft and naive. He teaches the child everything he learned to survive. How to manipulate others in their favor, to use weapons, generally to survive in a harsh worlds. Also drills it into the kid never to play hero. He doesn't care how much others are suffering, he's not risking the only people he cares about.

Preston Garvey:

❤︎ Would fist fight an army of behemoths for his family no questions asked. He's a loyal minuteman, and a fiercely loyal dad and husband. He takes his job of protecting settlements even more serious for their sake. He'd die for his family, for the chance for his child to have a better future than he ever had.

❤︎ Whenever he feels hopeless he takes the child into his arms, sees their little smile, hears their little laughs. It makes it seem like everything he suffered through was worth it.

❤︎ Sometimes he puts his hat on the childs head. He'll look at you with a big smile, asking; "Hey babe, what do you think? Future general?"

❤︎ When the minutemen have secured an area, he'll let his child 'patrol' the area with him, complete with fake weapon and all. They're just proudly strutting after their dad, looking proud of themselves.

❤︎ Doesn't like being angry or stern with them. He knows he has to, it's a part of parenting. But seeing their little faces scrunch up with upset as they cry at a deserved scolding, he just feels like the scum of the earth. Poor guy has to fight to keep a straight face and now immediately hold them and apologize.

❤︎ When your child is a little older, Preston allows them to do jobs around the settlement for caps. He's very hesitant about sending them out as a soldier. He knows very well it's hypocritical, since he believes in dying for freedom. But the idea of his child becoming a martyr makes him feel ill.

Robert J. MacCready:

❤︎ MacCready already has Duncan, but his jaw still dropped when you told him the news. He was incredibly excited to have another child, but deathly afraid something would happen to you or the baby.

❤︎ Completely overprotective. You're not traveling anywhere, you're staying in a settlement or other type of home. He lost one love of his life, he refuses to lose another. He'll take up extra jobs close to you if he has to put extra caps on the table.

❤︎ Since he already had a child, he figured he was used to the feeling. But as soon as he got to hold his second bundle of joy, he actually broke down sobbing. Mixed feelings of guilt, love, joy and a hint of sadness. He also made a note to include Duncan in it as much as possible. He tells the older child that he's a great big brother, letting him hold his little half sibling as well.

❤︎ Spends as much time with you and the kids as possible. MacCready uses all the experience he gained with Lucy and Duncan to do things better for you and the new child. He's also incredibly paranoid. If the baby stops moving or breathing for a bit too long, he's up immediately to check on them, even waking up a lot faster than usual.

❤︎ If you live somewhere safe, he slowly becomes comfortable enough to take your child and Duncan out on little trips with dad. He'll teach them to use guns, life skills and how to stay safe. Also a massive sucker for play fights, he just becomes the kids' personal playground. It's not uncommon to find him laughing while trying to pin down one of the kids while they try to grab onto him. Sometimes reads them comics too. Just like Cait he might let them have a little sip of his whiskey if they ask nicely.

❤︎ He hates it when you or the kids are out of his sight, first of all. He dreads the day the kids leave home to make it on their own. If it were up to MacCready, they'd stay with him forever. Just about gets the worst case of empty nest syndrome and if it were up to him, he'd give them another sibling.

X6-88:

❤︎ X6-88 and parenting is a disaster waiting to happen. The courser has the emotional capacity of a wooden spoon, and absolutely zero fatherly instincts. Had a complete poker face the first time he held the child in his hands.

❤︎ Absolute pro at keeping the child safe, though. Nobody is getting close enough to the child to hurt them before they're shot down. Not that anyone really dares to try anyway, X6-88 is pretty intimidating as is.

❤︎ A bit harsh on punishments and discipline. He has trouble recognizing that he is dealing with a child, not a disobedient synth. He doesn't really understand that children are all emotion and impulse, and lack comprehension and logic. He just kind of stands there while the child is crying and upset.

❤︎ When he learns a bit more about how to deal with kids, he puts them on a healthy diets, trying to keep out rads and makes sure they don't get sick. Regularly takes temperature and checks for injuries they might have.

❤︎ Just like Danse, he finds training very important. He wants them to learn how to calculate dangers, how to fight back, what weapons work best against certain wasteland animals.

❤︎ Prefers to keep the child close to him. It makes no sense to him that children go off on their own when they're older. It doesn't logically make sense, the kid is saying close where he can keep an eye on things.

Old Longfellow: (Grandpa bonus)

❤︎ Longfellow never got to be a father, so when you walked into his life, it didn't take a heck of a long time for him to take you under his wing. When you eventually had a kid of your own, the old hunter softens up a bit.

❤︎ Kind of a 'dad with the cat he said he didn't want' scenario. Grumbles every time he 'has' to babysit, but secretly loves doing so. He'll sit by the fireplace in a chair with the child sitting on his lap, huddled up in a blanket.

❤︎ Just about has a heart attack whenever he loses the child for more than five seconds, fearing the harsh and dangerous island might get to them, only to find them playing near the water or something. Longfellow's response was try and build a fence around his cabin so they can't just walk off.

❤︎ Will not let them anywhere near the Children of Atom. As soon as one of their messengers breathe near the child, the old man is just about ready to start fight over it.

❤︎ Tells them stories about his youth when they go to sleep. He talks about all his hunting trips, about what kind of creatures he encountered and the game he brought back home.

❤︎ Your child does not like grandpa Longfellow's cooking. They can never, ever look at a Mirelurk the same again after having to eat so much jerky.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Je ne me considérais pas vraiment comme une muse.

Jane Birkin

I remember when I was settling in Paris to live and work in this beautiful city, my French aunt (married to my Norwegian uncle) gave me the surprise of my life when she invited me to dinner at their home and there was Jane Birkin, in a big cosy cardigan, a simple t-shirt, baggy jeans and laceless sneakers. I was almost lost for words and more of a klutz in the kitchen than I normally am, but her infectious laugh and her easy going nature just made me forget who she was for one delightful evening. It wasn’t a formal dinner but just friends drinking wine, eating delicious home cooked food, and having a good laugh around the sprawling kitchen table. I was the youngest there - along with a couple of my cousins - in terms of the generation gap, but it didn’t matter one bit. It was just a cosy evening where the alcohol fuelled the conversation and the lubricated the singing around the piano (think of strangling cats).

During one lull in the evening, I was dying to ask so many questions. I had read her book, Munkey Diaries, which were extracts from her diary, dating from 1957, when she was twelve, to 1982. It’s a fascinating read and as someone who also keeps a diary since my early teens it was an inspiration. Throughout the book, she pours her heart out to her toy monkey, Munkey, telling him about everything from her childhood in England to her life in Paris where she met the men in her life, such as Serge Gainsbourg. She holds nothing back in telling the story of their couple, writing page after page to the rhythm of her ardent passion, but does not hesitate to put her foot down when it comes to her independence.

For Birkin was always a free, independent woman, choosing her films and musical interests with conviction. Sensing that her relationship with Gainsbourg was burning out, she left everything behind and moved into a hotel with her daughters, Kate and Charlotte. Her monkey still remained her intimate confidant, a rag doll witness to her heartbreak, particularly when she was seduced by Jacques Doillon. Jane spares the reader nothing. Neither her occasional desire to be done with it all, nor her more frequent excesses of happiness. A happiness she always wanted to share with those she loved. She wrote with such searing honesty and self-awareness that showed the world only scratched at what lay much deeper of this beautiful soul but a complex heart.

As the evening wore the conversation turned towards parenting and motherhood and things like that. I remembered in her Munkey Diaries that Birkin recounted a conversation with her own mother. In it she writes, “"During a bombing, her flat exploded, and I asked her, "What did you take with you?" After a moment's thought, she replied, 'Schiaparelli Shocking Pink Perfume: when you've got nothing left to lift your spirits, you've still got the superfluous.' I happen to mention that - I blame the wine now because the last thing you want to do is go all fangirl over her when she’s just trying to chill with friends. But she took it in her stride and she recalled a story she told elsewhere that many years later she had gone to Sarajevo at the height of the war there. So what does Jane Birkin do? She stuffed her bags with Guerlain lipsticks, tiny bottles of perfume and silk underwear for schoolgirls over there. She said that her mother was right after all. It’s all about being superfluous. By that she really meant what’s important is the essential.

After I heard the sad news of her passing I thought of that as I thought of a way how to memorialise her on my blog.

The thing about looking for a good Jane Birkin picture to post is that there are no bad ones. Go on I dare you, find a picture that looks dated. She was timeless. That’s the clue to her longevity. She wasn’t fashionable but she was stylishly essential. In many respects she presented a fashion paradox: the more Jane Birkin developed her unique signature style, the more brands sought her out. She never saw herself as a fashion icon. She never saw herself as a muse. As she once said, “My look is a cocktail. I'm not as nicely turned out as the french, but I don't care like the English.”

What makes me a little sad is that while Jane Birkin has become kind of an Instagram and social media artefact that fashion girls and luxury and fashion brands use to sell “a vibe”, it makes it all the more easier to forget that she was not just a tectonic inspiration for musicians, designers, filmmakers but also a remarkable artist in her own right.

I could sit in a bric-a-brac room for hours listening to Jane Birkin talk about what’s in or on her famously battered and bulging Bikrin bag, her style and life for hours on end. She was charismatic and stylish, sure, but in person she was absolutely hilarious and so down to earth.

Everything she touched was beautiful, cool and sophisticated as she. Everyone she touched felt their spirit lift a little lighter. It never crossed my mind that she was mortal.

Rest in peace, beautiful Jane Birkin, ‘la petite Anglaise’. My muse.

You’re free now.

RIP Jane Birkin 1946-2023

[smuttydreambarbie]

By Carynth's Light

Chapter 1: Painting Lessons

A/N: 18+ Nesta x Cassian smut with PLOT???

!! DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T WANT A Court of Silver Flames SPOILERS !!

One like and reblog = one kiss on the lips 🕺

Takes place 5 years after ACOSF on Little N's birthday :)

My idea was to show what I imagine is a bright future after Silver Flames for the inner family, and what that looks like for everyone from Nesta's POV. Blissful normalcy, family bonding, love, discussions of children, and moderate amounts of spice after a long day 😈 Let me know in asks, tags, or reblogs what you'd like to see next. AO3 and Fanfiction accounts currently under construction :)

15ish minute read. A little bit for everyone.

Thanks for supporting writers and reading!!

Chapter 1: Painting Lessons

Nesta swore quietly as she knocked her pallet of paint over, splattering the contents all over the white sheet covering the floor. She was inside her sister's art studio in Velaris, taking painting lessons from Feyre alongside 2 large rows of children. As the small crash sounded, her sister glanced over her painting and squinted in suspicion, jokingly, before giggling and going back to her work on what was sure to be another gorgeous piece of priceless artwork.

Nesta had been a Valkyrie on the battlefield, a queen on the dance floor.... but with a canvas and paint? A fool, compared to even the children around her it seemed. Feyre's dream of teaching art and bringing her passion to the few families of the Night Court had been such a comfortable transition after getting used to motherhood in the last few years. As strong as she'd known their High Lady to be, this beautiful display of passion was what made her an obvious choice for leader. Seeing her in her element was inspiring, and she hoped to reach that level of bliss someday.

It was Nyx's fifth birthday today and Nesta could hardly behold the sight of the beautiful boy who was growing up before her. His glowing blue eyes held that sparkle of wonder and power as Feyre and Rhysand's do, which shined below his wild black waves that went past his ears. She didn’t know many children, but he was her favorite.

He was a quiet, intelligent, and funny child when he was around his mother and aunts, but around his father and uncles that little boy became a whirlwind of speed and energy. Every year he grew older, Nesta grew closer to admitting that maybe she wanted her own sticky little face to admire, someday sitting next to Feyre's boy. At five, he had begun speaking tales of pirates and mighty beasts, no doubt the inspiration for our painting prompt today.

"Don't forget, my loves. While drawing your beasts be sure to include the ground and sky behind them," Feyre announced from her place in the center of the room facing us, partially hidden behind her large canvas. She then stepped out and paced behind us, donning a paint covered set of what seemed to be men's clothes; a paint brush poking from behind her paint-splattered ear. Rhysand's tunic and trousers, Nesta realized.

Feyre was an image of comfort and pure, unintentional beauty. She gazed lovingly at our art as she spoke, "Does your beast have hair, feathers, wings, a tail, or something else magnificent? Does it exist to conquer battles or rescue lost souls? To paint or create music?" She had given us the task of creating a beast, whether real or imaginary, that brought us joy. An easy task for a bunch of children... And Nesta. Nesta had painted a mighty purple beast, made of circles and triangles with her amateur, but naturally artistic skill. Feyre nodded in approval as she passed.

Finding happiness and a family was not something Nesta saw in the cards for herself at most points in her life, but as Nyx and Cassian both glanced up at her from their places in the row at the same time, she breathed out a breath of disbelief at this life she had made for herself. Her family was by her side to celebrate another day conquered.

Another year triumphant.

Next to Nesta sat Cassian, Rhysand, and then her nephew. All 3 boys, with hair black as onyx, perched on the same size kids chair, all busily painting, everything from their exposed wings to their toes already covered in a rainbow of paint from a previous paint fight. Colorful little gargoyles, she laughed to herself. Nesta, thankfully, had swapped her seat with the only other big chair, besides the one her sister now sat upon, as they had arrived.

"My mighty Pegasus shall defeat you, traitor!" Nyx shouted suddenly to his father, wielding a paint brush as a mighty great sword. He brandished the weapon at Rhys. An orange-ish oval with several sticks and circles protruding from the figure laid upon his canvas. On the top of the oval, there are two more longer ovals. Wings, Nesta realized.

"A mighty Pegasus indeed, my son. But it is no match for my Beast of the Night!" Rhysand countered, laughing and striking the side of the boy's paintbrush with his own. A black blob monster was painted onto his canvas, a blue sky that he had just begun at Feyre's recommendation was scribbled behind the beast. He made a clang, clang, slice sound with his mouth as they erupted into a sword-brush battle, splattering paint in every direction. Feyre peered up from her painting again and looked upon her family with such pride. Cassian beamed.

Nesta and her mate's eyes locked as she donned that disbelieving smile on her face, drinking in the scene.

For Nesta was truly happy. She couldn't quite grasp her mind around the level of peace and preparedness she had felt at that moment. In the comfort she had found around her sister and brother, her friends, and her lover.

It was at that moment, she decided that she wouldn't drink her contraceptive tea the next day.

She decided that she'd let Cassian know after the lesson that her family would be perfect no matter what, but she wasn't afraid or unsure anymore about the idea of it changing. As she looked upon the small boy's face, she grinned a large smile again. Out of character at one point in her life, now an easy and welcomed movement.

+

A few hours later, Nesta and Cassian finally made it home to The House of Wind. As they entered from the brisk outdoors, they removed their jackets and set them in the coat rack inside the hallway.

"You look so beautiful covered in all that paint," Cassian whispered into my ear as he grabbed her waist from behind, locking his arms around her waist. Still walking, gracefully following behind her in a slow saunter, he continued, "but I think it's time for a bath."

Nesta was almost tempted to sprint to get to their bedroom at that idea. He bent down to put his head on her shoulder, and they continued their walk for a moment before Nesta spun in his arms, now walking backwards. She looked into his eyes and placed her hands on the tops of his large arms as if they were dancing and let him lead her through the large home. Seeing him with the people he loves like today brought such a joy to her heart, it almost ached. His sweet smile, his belly laughs, and his callused hands rubbing my knee from beside me where he sat. Always making sure that I know he is still there, unable to stay more than a foot away from each other if helped.

You four are always touching, stop being so in love and gross, Mor had once commented, the memory flooding her mind. As she walked into the family's River House: on one couch, Feyre and Rhysand sat leg to leg with their entire sides touching as they held hands in the middle. Nyx lay sleeping in Rhys's free arm, still only a babe. The mated pair of daemati whispered sweet nothings to each other in silence as usual. The other couch held Nesta and Cassian, sprawled sideways along the long and plush couch. Nesta cuddled in his lap reading a romance novel, her small body fit into her large mate's napping arms like a puzzle. A soft blanket lay over their legs. Soft music filled the room. A picture of absolute relaxation from all parties.

Jealous, Mor? Rhys laughed, pulling Feyre's hand up to his mouth to kiss her fingers gently.

Jealous, disgusted, and absolutely on the way to cry myself to sleep over witnessing this? Yes, she laughed, secretly proud of us all for giving ourselves a moment of happiness together-

"Where'd you go?" Cassian mumbled into my hair, almost making me jump. She had been daydreaming during their walk to... Oh. The kitchen. She had been thinking so deeply she didn't even realize where she stood. His pit stop was undoubtedly for the cookies he now held in his hand. Realizing she was deep in one of her daydreams, he came back to stand in front of her, towering over her small frame. He cupped each side of her jaw in his hands, "Tell me where your mind is adventuring off to, my love," he whispered only inches away from her lips, tickling the tip of her nose with his. He set his forehead upon hers.

"Mor." Nesta said, without explanation. She then realized what she had said by Cassian's snort. He pulled back to laugh a loud cackle at the ceiling. Recapturing her face, he put them eye-to-eye as he smiled so widely it made Nesta's chest hurt.

"Mor?? You could be fucking me, The Great Night Court General, your MATE, right here in this kitchen and you're thinking about Morrigan?" He boomed, laughing even louder than before, still holding her by the shoulder as he composed himself.

Nesta blushed, he knew she had fantasies of others joining their bed, but she had not intended those experiences to be with Mor. Her words came out wrong and he knew it, but of course now he had that thought in his head. She started, "First of all, no. To all of it. At least for now," Nesta winked, "Second, I meant I was thinking of something I realized today and once when I spoke to her," she finally expressed.

"What did you realize?" He asked as he slowly pushed her up against the counter, one hand on her waist and the other slowly making its way up the side of her neck. She hadn’t realized he had cornered her like a rabbit, eyeing his prey with that spark of lust dazzling through those dark eyes.

"That our family can never be large enough and I can never get enough of being around your stupid gorgeous face," she confessed into his lips, only a breath away. "That this place of peace we have found has led me to say to you that... I'm ready. I'm ready for the rest of our life, for our adventures, and I'm ready to plan our own child's birthday party someday."

Cassian's seductive face froze, as if the realization of what she said hit him like a tidal wave. A few unmoving and heart-wrenching moments passed as she watched the understanding and meaning of what she had admitted fill him entirely, and then she swore by the gods that a tear fell from his eye as he spoke with a soft voice, hands going to her shoulders, "Nesta Archeron... are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Today was my last dose of tea, Cassian. I am."

With that confession, he grappled her entire body into his arms, spun her around, and bounded to our room with great and huge steps, cackling as they went. He showered everywhere he could reach with kisses and smiled at her as if he had just won the greatest prize he had ever been offered. A champion among men, he had decided.

He playfully tossed her onto the plush bed, removing her shoes with silence and laughter between them. Unable to contain their joy, they could only touch and fawn over each other like it was the first time again. They exchanged hot and heavy kisses for a while before Nesta pushed him off, causing him to grunt in frustration.

"Since we can't officially start until tomorrow, why don't you remind me what the Great General of The Night Court does to satisfy his mate? How an Iliryian fucks the one he calls his woman?" She spoke in her deepest, sexiest voice. Such a change from her no-bull attitude and demeanor that everyone else gets.

His cock throbbed at her dirty words, her obvious effort at riling him up working. She pulled him down again from where he peered at her, grabbing him by the hem of his pants, and all he could do was obey. Whatever his mate wanted of him, she could have. His body, his mind, his seed. All of him was hers just as all of her was his. After a few more moments of frantic kisses, his hands grabbed her hips and roughly pulled her against him so that the hard tent of his pants was against her sex. He grumbled a sound of what seemed to be pain and pleasure into her mouth, and then ground into her hips as he gripped the fronts of Nesta's thighs with both hands. Hard. Hard enough that there would definitely be bruises. She smiled up at him and his primal state.

Seriousness covered his face, pure male intent plastered there. They had woken up this morning and had their fill of each other, but after a long day of fantasizing about him and his babies... She needed his more-than-considerable length in her hands, her mouth, and filling her. His wings expanded above them in excitement before they fell, weightless over their bodies onto the bed around them. Nesta glanced up at them with mischief in her eyes and ran her entire hand from his back, along the thin membrane of his wings, down to the bottom that lay beside her. He moaned and shuttered at her touch, never getting used to how bold she was with wingplay.

In an act of what can be described as true love, they both moved at the same time. Her, reaching for his pants to unfasten them, while Cassian was reaching around, skillfully untying the front of her dress. He smirked his quickness before he paused and then suddenly yanked it from her body in such a rush it left her dizzy. When he looked at her almost naked body, a bright red corset looked back at him. The small pieces of fabric pushed her bust upwards in a way he had never seen before and showed off every glorious curve of Nesta's body. She had heard about the lingerie store in town from Feyre but had never been before Gwyn pulled her in earlier this week.

Underneath him, her fingers crawled up and down his chest as she spoke. She could feel the heat enter her cheeks, so she focused on his heavy breathing as she said softly, "I figured you might enjoy these on as much as you would love taking them off... so I picked up a handful on my shopping day with Gwyn," his entranced face moved slightly as one corner of his lips curled into a lustful smirk at that.

"The fact that we have been together for five years and I didn't carry you into that store myself has me beating myself up a little bit," he laughed into her neck, "because, boy was I missing out."

Sick of speaking, their mouths finally found each other's again as they removed all of their clothing, only the soft moans of the two of them filling the room like a great symphony. She reached down and found the length of him, taking his large cock into one of her hands, slowly stroking the top half. Cassian's massive size would never not be shocking to her, the thought of which caused a flash of heat and moisture between her legs. The thought of him throwing her around and slamming his full length into her as she likes was almost debilitating on its own, so she put her other hand onto her warm opening and rubbed as well. Cassian looked down between their bodies and watched as she pleasured the both of them to the same rhythm, before looking into her eyes and shaking his head lightly, straining between a laugh and pleasure sounds.

"You always know how to make me feel good, baby," he spoke, hot breath against her ear. She loved it when he called her pet names, which he claimed was a trophy due to her previous distaste of them. "Good girl," he said softly as he placed his hand over hers, still rubbing up and down on her clit together. After a minute, their fingers were partially intertwined together as he suddenly removed them from their current home between her legs and pushed her hand quickly and roughly above her head with a smile.

"Oh god, Cassian. I want you inside of me. Right. Now." She stated, unashamed of how much his closeness turned her on. He filled her body with a craving she could not satisfy with even hours of masturbation. In response, he lifted her other hand and captured both beneath his right hand above her, so her arms were straight on the bed. When he had both of her arms pinned, he decided he would repay her for her initial want to please them both. His body sank down as he kissed her eyebrow, the corner of her mouth, her chin, her neck, her collarbones, and then... Her breast. He placed a small kiss right above her nipple before taking the entire nub into his open mouth and suckling before nipping, not giving Nesta an inch of wiggle room under his heavy weight. She squirmed and could do nothing but moan his name and nothings in the form of expletives about what he made her feel.

Obviously feeling the heat of needing a quicker release, he looked down at her eyes, pushed her bent legs aside, grabbed a floating ankle, and growled, "You're mine," as he took his cock into his hand and slammed his entire length into her. She screamed a moan of pleasure and dug her nails into his back and bicep where she had reached and clung, tearing at his skin. He slowly pulled backwards before doing the same slamming motion again, always pulling out in a slow-motion slide. Had he wanted her to find release right then and there? She was so close she had to close her eyes and breathe as he picked up the pace. His hands went over her breasts as he stood up, now fucking her with her legs in the air at the edge of the bed. He grabbed her ankles in each hand and put them, so her feet were on each side of his head, where he then drew a few of her toes into his mouth. Cassian did not have a foot fetish per say, but he needed the feel and taste of Nesta in his mouth as he felt his climax roaring to the front of his mind. She had no complaints.

They had both been so uncontrollably horny the last half of the day that they both knew their first joining of the night was going to be hard and fast. Lovemaking could happen later, because for now? Now was the time for them to fuck like rabbits. Now was the time for Cassian to prove to Nesta that she was his, body and soul, forever. So, they did just that and didn't stop until the sun rose the next morning, coating their bodies with the warm glow of the golden morning sun and the salty sheen of sweat as the new day rose through the window beside them.

To be continued...

[tumbling-through-deepspace]

The Hunter, a baby and the unexpected forming of family in unlikely places: Chapter Four

Summary:

Hunter Lyssa Williams finds a baby abandoned outside her apartment complex. The 24-year-old is way over her head and does not know the first thing about looking after a tiny human. However, as the saying goes, 'it takes a village to raise a child', and in her case, a group of unlikely men come along for the ride.

Genres: Slice of life, comfort, eventual relationships, eventual romance, enemies to friends, frenemies, fluff...

Word count: 2416 words

Warning: Feeling sad and experiencing separation anxiety.

Eventual Relationships: Xavier/MC/Rafayel

Zayne/Sylus/Lyssa

Chapter Four: I hate this place… Stuck in this paradigm

It was midmorning on Friday, but being in the apartment felt longer than another passing week. Currently, Lyssa and little Ella were in the living room. The sound of the television filled the room, but neither of them was paying attention. The new mother has been discovering things about this little baby; disbelief that television did not hold the child’s attention for long.

However, give her paper or read to her then see the excitement in her eyes, the giggling and cooing. Then there was the constant snuggling and sniffing of her neck too. Is it possible that Ella was part cat? Lyssa found it oddly endearing.

Sometimes it baffled her that holding Ella came like second nature. She didn’t feel out of place in her new role and having to constantly hold, touch and be touch by the child felt her both confused and elated.

In all her years, due to her Protocore Syndrome, it prevented her from accepting skin to skin contact easily. This would cause her Evol to react erratically and lash out as a defense mechanism. Yet, this never happened with holding Ella and she couldn’t understand why.

Lyssa looked down at the little girl that turned her whole world upside down in only a matter of weeks. Her presence brought about change that even she was grateful for; the family she distances herself from came out the woodworks and made her realize that she was trying to bury the emotions that made her human. They dropped everything to lend a helping hand and all she did was call one of them.

It was hard for her at times asking for help and relying on the support of others. She found it easier to just do things alone; it elevated error, stress and at the end of any task it was done to her specification.

Yes, her pseudo family has a place in her heart—it wasn’t easy getting there—but old habits are hard to break.

Mother and daughter were both on the floor with the baby on a playmat and Lyssa just lost in thought. Little Ella’s attention was captivated by the hanging mini stuffies above her playmat, as she attempted to hit them repeatedly.

This gave Lyssa the opportunity to catch a breather. Let no one say that motherhood was easy; this was not for the weak and it was more challenging with her being alone to do it, but she enjoyed every minute of it—well except the sleep deprivation parts.

Ella was a delight—a clingy, bubbly delight—that brought color into her life. Alexandra had returned to the N109 zone two days prior, stating she missed the chaos of the place and couldn’t understand how Lyssa could stand living in a place like Linkin city.

Ella looked up at her with wide, curious eyes, completely unaware of her mama’s turbulent thoughts, then returned to the toys. This gave Lyssa the opportunity to get up and move to stand by the window, her arms folded as she looked down at the hustle and bustle of the city.

It was loud, chaotic—a far cry from the serenity of her bungalow on the outskirts of the city, where the sound of the wind rusting through the trees was like music and the many presences of birds always made her smile.

Her thoughts paused at the cooing and happy gurgling, and her gaze caught Ella hitting a plush toy. This caused a wide grin to overtake her face. She looked back out to the city, a feeling of uneasy growing in her chest.

“I can’t stay here forever. It’s too dangerous for the both of us.”

Despite her being on leave from the association, staying in the city will draw unwanted attention and the risk of wanderers and their attacks could not be avoided. Being a hunter and with the cases she took on requires her slip into shadows, go unnoticed, move fast. With a baby now involved, that was no longer possible.

Ella squealed happily before sticking her toes into her mouth, causing Lyssa to let out a laugh. She walked over to her small table and reached for her laptop; after booting it up she typed “buy used car in Linkon city” into the search bar.

She knew she needed a car to move around which wouldn’t be a problem, since she had more money than she could count. A thought that made her groan in annoyance. Alright, time to plan. The car needs to be sturdy that could handle rough terrain, maybe a 4x4 but still be able to hold a car seat—something else she needed to purchase.

Looking up, she caught her daughter rolling onto her stomach and reaching for her. Lyssa smiled faintly.

“You’re curious, huh sweet pea?

Walking over, she picked up the baby and cradled her against her chest. The little girl settled comfortably against her, wriggling a bit before her tiny fingers grabbed at Lyssa’s shirt.

Lyssa nuzzled Ella’s hair and sniffed it. The hunter did not know what it was about infants, but the powdery scent that entered her nostrils helped to calm her nerves. Her heart swelled with a fierce protectiveness. She might not know what the future held but she was going to make sure that Ella was protected and loved.

Bouncing Ella lightly, she made a list in her head “apart from the car, we’re going to need supplies… food, diapers, formula, cleaning and laundry supplies. I’ll have to buy non-perishables, and most items need to be bulk sized. Then there are bills that need to be paid and things to pack. Maybe I shouldn’t buy the car from the city, since it will require me taking you out and I don’t want to risk being seen.”

The little girl yawned. Lyssa brushed a strand of hair away from the baby’s forehead and planted a small kiss.

“I’ll phone your aunt Rose and ask her to come babysit for a while. I need to air out the house, clean and do shopping. Should I ask Dox to accompany me too? Decisions, decisions.”

Looking down, she found that Ella had drifted off to sleep, her soft breaths filling the air. “Gods, how did I get so lucky? Don’t worry little one, I’ve got us covered.”

“Come on Lyssa, the longer you take to leave the longer it will take to get everything done. Little Ella is in good hands.”

Dox was laughing in the background, muttering that he’ll change her name from Dove to mother hen. The fucker.

“I know Rose, but this is the first time I’ll be apart from her, and I already feel empty, and I am not even out the door yet. I can’t do this.”

The jackass just laughed louder. Lyssa shot her Evol in his direction which caused him to yelp at the sting.

“Bitch!”

Rose sighed and shook her head at the childishness “Ignore Dox. What you’re feeling is normal Lyssa, it’s known as separation anxiety. Just know that she will be safe with us and in a few days, you and she will be moving back home.”

Lyssa took a deep breath, the feeling of tears prickling the corner of her eyes was strong. Rose smiled and patted her arm.

“Go on. Roman is waiting in the van and he has missed you the most.”

The trip down the elevator was Lyssa trying and failing not to cry. How do people do this? This was harder than Hunter training, her emotions won’t shut off.

Roman was waiting for her as she exited the elevator with open his arms. She quickly hugged him, sniffling and allowing his presence to calm her nerves.

His baritone voice brought back memories when she got too emotional, he was the one who she would go for a good cry session.

“You haven’t cried like this since you were thirteen. Birds don’t cry little Raven. Is being away from the chick giving you such distress? You can stay, I don’t mind doing the shopping for you.”

She shook her head “Bird do too cry, they have emotions just like us. I can’t go back up; I must do this. I’ve been in the apartment too long. I want to go home. I want to bring her home and not have to worry so much. I’ve missed you Ro.”

“I’ve missed you too. Don’t make me wait sixteen months just to see you again. Now, let’s get going, all the things you need will be at one large shopping center I found and then we’ll drive up to the house to start cleaning.

Shopping took about two hours, followed by another hour driving to reach to her home. Seeing the bungalow made her wiggle in her seat. Roman chuckled.

Lyssa entered the house and sneezed at the stale air. The pair proceeded to open all the windows, and each chose a room. Roman tackled the kitchen, while Lyssa handled the bedrooms and laundry. She wanted to prepare a room as a nursery for Ella. The guestroom had a lovely lilac color, so all she needed to do was install the new crib, put the stickers on the walls, the pictures, the shelves for the book and then the changing table. Piece of cake.

They arrived and started around 11 am and it was approaching 6:30 pm when everything was completed.

“Do you have the energy to head back to the city?”

“As much as want to, I don’t think that would be a good idea. We’re both tired and I know Ella will be alright with Rose.”

Roman chuckled “Dox is there too you know.”

Lyssa bit into her turkey sandwich ignoring the statement. This just caused Roman to let out a loud laugh “It seems he still has a way to annoy you, little Raven. Don’t worry, I’ll tell him to tone it done a bit when we video call them.”

“Do you think she’ll like the nursery?”

“Stop worrying, the nursery came out great. I’ve almost forgotten how good you are with decorating and just being creative.”

“Thanks Ro. I’m going to get cleaned up and them we can call everyone.”

“Go ahead.”

The plan was to leave in the morning, but Lyssa wanted to tend to the garden and go for a walk before they headed back to the city.

There was pruning and weeding that needed to be done urgently; Some vegetables required harvesting and there were fresh flowers that needed picking.

The routine tasks were a breath of fresh air, and she allowed the control of her Evol to chip away. The lilac ribbons swooshed around, reaching out like tendrils, tasting the air. A few birds chirped and some flew down to sit on her shoulders.

Roman hid taking out pictures and fighting to stay quiet. It was rare to see his sister calm like this and not have her guard up. These pictures were gold.

It was around mid-afternoon when she took a walk. The weather was good, and she just let her feet take her along the well-known path.

She was so catch up in her thoughts that the smacking of feathers in her face could not be dodged; It was quite comical the way she tried fruitlessly to calm the panicking bird and just ended up with a ton of feathers in her hair and a few scratches.

Lyssa had to use her Evol to bind the bird and hold it suspended in the air at her eye level.

“It is quite rude of you to fly into me, and when I try to help, you scratch my face.”

The bird in question was a crow that gave her a nasty look.

“Don’t give me that expression. I was minding my business; this is on you.”

A few caws her way made her raise a brow “I can understand you and you have quite the vocabulary. Do you want me to help you? I can sense that you’re hurt… Let me heal you and I’ll be on my way. I have my chick to bring home.”

The crow studied her and noticed the aura of lilac swirling around them. It wasn’t malicious and felt warm. Cawing to give her the go ahead, Lyssa wasted no time healing the crow’s wing and the wound on it’s back. Her Evol flowed into the animal healing any internal injury as well.

“There we go, good as new. I’m glad that despite you being somewhat mechanical, my Evol did its work. Let me put you down.”

She let the crow down on the branch of a tree, making sure its talons gripped the wood before she retracted her Evol.

“Thank you for allowing me to heal you. I won’t keep you any longer. Have a good day.”

Lyssa turned back in the direction of her home, completely missing the way the crow’s red eyes glowed before it took to the skies.

Being reunited with her chick did make her misty eyed but she refused to cry in the presence of Dox, who had to have Roman drag him from the room before she stabbed him.

Lyssa loved the idiot but sometimes his mouth had no filter. The following days were spent purchasing the car, going back and forth between the apartment and the bungalow, handling bills and planning to have someone come once a month to clean the place. The apartment was still going to be used whenever they were in the city and needed to stay a bit.

Finally came the time for Lyssa and Ella to leave the city. Roman volunteered driving so she could ride in the back with the baby. Dox and Rose rode ahead of them in their own car. The group stopped to order take out before excitedly saying goodbye to the city.

No one was happier than Lyssa. The streets and tall buildings passed in a blur until it gave away to trees and a winding highway. Lyssa felt her shoulders relax and enjoyed the way Ella was curled up against her chest, her tiny fingers clutching at her blanket.

“You’re going to love our place. No more noise, no danger; just us with the birds and the trees. I’ll show you the garden and the birds that love to visit and when we’re settled, the rest of your aunts and uncles are going to visit. I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

[nightshadedumplings]

Name: Svanhildre Reason or meaning of name: "Swan" and "warrior". Character’s nickname: Hilde, Svan Pronouns: She/her Role: Carrier/seeder (through magical means)

Physical appearance Age: 72 How old does she appear: 30s Weight: 265 lbs Height: 5'10" Body build: Chubby, with a large ass and breasts Eye color: Honey Distinguishing marks: A beauty mark on her left cheek Usual fashion of dress: A variety of long gowns, primarily in black. She prefers low cut tops and flowing skirts. Sometimes, she may wear colors like red or green, and more rarely, blue. She's very fond of jewelry made from rare gemstones and metals, her favorites being diamonds and gold. Art of her can be found here.

Personality Positive traits: Intelligent, well-read, pragmatic, reasonable, confident, dominant, sensual Neutral traits: Proud, gluttonous, hedonistic Negative traits: A little evil, selfish, arrogant, cold (not always, but she tends to be by default), uncaring (exceptions being certain people), unsympathetic Priorities: Money and power. After that, sexual gratification.

Present Current location: She has a large parcel of land and a sizable house deep in the woods. There's a small shop closer to the road where she sells potions and casts spells, for a fee. Currently living with: Her lovers, Streja, Storik, and Vrognir. There are a couple of servants and guards living on the property, but they have separate housing from the main house. Pets: She owns a few horses, but wouldn't consider them pets. Occupation: Witch Finances: Very, very wealthy.

Favorites Color: Black Food: Sugary baked goods. Literature: History. She also enjoys fiction and books on science or magic. Form of entertainment: Sex.

Activities Hobbies: Reading, potion making, magic practice, and sex. Plays a musical instrument?: The nyckelharpa and the kravik lyre. Smokes: Yes, a variety of plants and mushrooms. Drinks: Yes. Skills: Magic and potion making, music, and baking, though she doesn't do much of the latter very often. Extremely unskilled at: Most physical activity. She's strong, and has good stamina, but she doesn't know how to fight or do any sort of manual labor.

Misc. Svanhildre is extremely fertile, part by nature and part due to a side effect from the beauty potions she uses to keep herself young, her hair shiny, and her skin soft. Unbeknownst to her, the potions cause her to produce several eggs whenever she ovulates. Despite her best efforts to prevent pregnancy, she still ends up with a few babies in her belly sometimes. Having no interest in motherhood and not being very maternal in general, she doesn't keep any babies that she gives birth to.

She finds pregnancy embarrassing, and does her best to avoid getting pregnant. Secretly, she enjoys it, not despite but partly due to the humiliation that comes with it. This is the reason she hasn't sterilized herself, when it would be very easy for her to do so safely and quickly. She also doesn't admit even to herself that she enjoys it.

When pregnant, she'll act as though she isn't, as if she hasn't noticed. She may acknowledge some symptoms, but will never announce her pregnancy. If someone else comments on it, she'll become flustered and ignore them or pretend not to know what they're referring to.

[abookishshade]

What I liked in Diary of a Void by Emi Yagi, tr. by David Boyd and Lucy North (spoilers)

1) Theme of gender roles in workplaces. Shibata is the only woman in her section at the office, and all menial work like getting tea or coffee for others, cleaning up the fridge, etc. falls on her. It makes it difficult for her to focus on her actual work for which she was hired. It also gives her less time to herself at home as she almost daily ends up leaving for home from work past her time. So, one day in annoyance she comes up with the lie of her pregnancy. That solves all of the above issues for her in addition to gaining her the maternity leave that gives her a break from her annoying workplace.

2) Theme of loneliness. Shibata seeks solitude but she is also alone at times. She considers herself less miserable than the married women who despite being drained and tired themselves do the housework for their family, while she can spend her time doing what she likes. She does not like talking to people who do not care for her but would ask intruding questions about her private life and comment on what she isn't doing right according to them. Talking to those people makes her feel very alone. And it is not even as simple as avoiding the people she finds annoying because perhaps the vibrancy in those interactions makes her solitary apartment more darker: But why do I have to deal with these people who try to act like they care about me or my pregnancy while they ask the most inane, prying questions? Why is it up to me to produce answers that please them? And why is the way home so much darker and colder on nights like that? More than that, why is my apartment so dark when I come home alone from aerobics, after talking with the others about nothing in particular, snacking on whatever sweets are spread out on the table? There is also the fact that not everyone she finds annoying is so merely because they have nothing better to do or because they are inconsiderate. I think this was particularly emphasized through Higashinakano's character. He seemed annoying at the beginning, but later we find out that he has his own emotional reasons related to pregnancy and babies. At one point she also talks about family: Maybe that’s what making a family is all about: creating an environment in which people make space for one another— maybe without even trying, just naturally, to make sure that nobody’s forgotten.

3)Theme of lies. She is a 34 year old unmarried single woman living alone. But her lie turns her into an unmarried single mother, and she dedicates herself completely to this lie doing everything exactly as a pregnant woman would do for the entire period of a normal pregnancy. She does this because she doesn't care about lying to those intruding people and this lie enables her to maintain her privacy while still interacting with them: Even if it’s a lie, it’s a place of my own.

4)Theme of religion and motherhood. She talks to Mary, the Virgin Mother, in her head at parts. She sympathises with the role thrust upon Mary and the circumstances of her becoming the Virgin Mother and being eternally known as such, her personhood entirely ignored. Shibata too, after all, could get out of her uncompensated for extra duties only after she turned herself into a would-be mother through her lie. She finds solace in talking to this famous mother who must not have had it easy either, especially in those times, eons ago.

5) Theme of body. I liked how relatable Shibata's self-consciousness was: It was the bottom part of me that was different. I quickly dried myself off and tried on some skirts and jeans. Nothing looked right. My thighs were jutting out. And the way I looked from behind was . . . Well, it was just too painful to behold. This. I have felt this too. And I was happy for her when she felt better about her body after her walks and aerobics: It hadn’t even been three weeks since I’d signed up, but my body was already changing, little by little. Whenever I got out of the bath and looked at my backside in the mirror, I could see a real difference in my hips and thighs. My core felt stronger, and I didn’t feel like I was about to fall over all the time. My belly was getting bigger, and sometimes I felt a pain in my back, but it wasn’t unbearable. Honestly, I was feeling better than I ever had in my life.

6) The writing. I liked all the descriptions of the mundane day-to-day life activities. And her thoughts. Her overthinking tendency was also very relatable to me.

What I didn't like:

The visit to the doctor. It made zero sense to me. I was confused af.

[lackingabilitytodothing]

While I agree that sexuality readings of Dracula are heavily overemphasised to the detriment of other equally valid and evidenced readings, I don't agree that the sexuality reading of Dracula (or vampire media in general) is based only upon the earlier chapters and ill-fittingly applied to later aspects of the novel. I personally prefer the sexuality reading, but the novel can simultaneously be interpreted in multiple contradictory or complimentary ways, and in particular a lot of scholars have attempted to identify vampirism as a sexually transmitted disease or infection. This reading mixes both the themes of disease and sexual anxiety, and is historically informed by the anxiety around STD's in society at the time.

On the point that the sexuality reading relies on early chapters (I'm assuming you're referring to Lucy stating that she wants to marry 3 men and the scene with Jonathan and the Brides), the sexual nature of the book is woven throughout, from Dracula's possible homosexual innuendos to the bride's, Lucy's sexual inversion (taking life from children rather than giving it to them as a mother in her vampire form), Lucy's highly sexualised final death scene (which has been variously read as a gang rape), and Mina's violation by Dracula, which does involve a mutual transmission of bodily fluids. I think it's also worth noting that these analyses rest on the already sexual nature of vampires in the public consciousness at the time, as Polidoris "The Vampyre" (with the titular Vampyre based off of notorious slut Lord Byron) and LeFanus "Carmilla" both having sexual themes in relation to vampires and predating Dracula. It's likely Stoker was at the very least familiar with Carmilla, which has lesbian homoeroticism and sexual themes between the vampire and the main character, so these analyses of Dracula are founded upon previous cultural context of vampires as being already sexual in nature.

Some theorists have also linked this sexuality (in particular as it pertains to Lucy, Mina and the Brides) as being representative of anxieties over the changing gender roles and classes at the time, with Mina being popularly thought to be influenced by the "New Woman" of the time. This sort of gender reversal, especially in a sexual context, is present in the scene where Jonathan is approached by the Brides, and can be read in Lucy's death, where the men in her life reassert their sexual control over her body and diminish her agency.

Another interesting theme in Dracula includes the fear of invasion, or, reverse colonisation (which also links into the sexuality through a sort of fear of what is similar to "the great replacement")

I'm just saying, there's a reason that the vast majority of literary analyses of Dracula focus on gender and sexuality, and that's because the evidence is there. And I think we should be bringing other elements into it, but that doesn't mean that the sexuality reading is less valid or evidenced.

Also, and I know this is nitpicky, but for whoever commented that the blood transfusions being read as evidence of promiscuity, this is directly addressed in the text by Van Helsing in Chapter 13, because Arthur specifically brings up the idea of his transfusion being a sort of marriage.

(“"Just so. Said he not that the transfusion of his blood to her veins had made her truly his bride?"

"Yes, and it was a sweet and comforting idea for him."

"Quite so. But there was a difficulty, friend John. If so that, then what about the others? Ho, ho! Then this so sweet maid is a polyandrist”)

This honours thesis addresses something really interesting about Lucy and the perversion of motherhood: https://ro.ecu.edu.au/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?referer=&httpsredir=1&article=2337&context=theses_hons

Otherwise it's very easy to find scholarly texts on femininity, sexuality and Dracula and I recommend that you do so

We’re so used to the sexual reading of the entire book of Dracula, which takes the sensuality of the early chapters and jams everything that follows it into the same metaphor no matter how poorly it fits, but I feel the segment we’re approaching works much better with a lens of chronic illness and disease.

Vampire legends are inextricably intertwined with disease. Many of them are said to have been birthed by burying victims of disease too soon, who later seem to rise from the dead. But what’s more is that Stoker and his family have deep-seated trauma over disease: his mother had to flee her hometown at the age of 14 because of a horrific cholera epidemic, and Stoker himself was bedridden as a child from an illness that no one could identify.

Found this quote from Irish Historian Mary McGarry:

Bram as an adult asked his mother to write down her memories of the epidemic for him, and he supplemented this using his own historic research of Sligo’s epidemic. Scratching beneath the surface (of this essay), I found parallels with Dracula. [For instance,] Charlotte says cholera enters port towns having traveled by ship, and can travel overland as a mist—just like Dracula, who infects people with his unknown contagion.

I bring this up because a lot of academic analysis insists that Lucy sleepwalking is proof of her being the Slutty Woman archetype that needs to be punished. This suggested symbolism is hilarious when put next to the text saying she inherited it from her father, but I’d like to suggest a different angle from the lens of disease suggested earlier:

Lucy’s sleepwalking is a condition that predates Dracula but makes her an easy target for him to prey on. Through the lens of disease symbolism, she now is someone with chronic illness or disability who is especially vulnerable to infectious disease. This becomes a cross-section of Stoker’s trauma regarding disease: his own mystery illness and his mother fleeing a plague.

To wind down my rambles with a bit of a soapbox, I feel this adds a very poignant layer to the struggle to keep Lucy alive. The COVID pandemic showed a horrifying level of casual ableism vs disabled and immunodeficient individuals, shrugging off their vulnerability and even their deaths with “well COVID only kills them.” There’s something deeply gratifying at seeing the way everyone around Lucy fights to the bitter end to protect her and refuses to just give her up to Dracula, whether it’s Mina physically chasing him away or the suitor squad pouring their blood into her veins or Van Helsing desperately searching for cures. The vulnerable deserve no less than this. They’re not acceptable casualties.

[songofsilentechoes]

“/)///v///(\”

"Oh, Seraph? One of the finest blacksmiths in Piltover. You should check them out sometime. You won't regret it; quality work and professional service."

"Good folks, and good family. They helped me find my way when I first stumbled my way into Piltover, and have never once called in the favor."

"Looking back, it's kind of funny how quickly they welcomed me into their home. First it was just the occasional rest stop on my delivery rounds...maybe a little coffee. Then I offered to get some stuff from the market for them. Before I knew it, I was cooking meals to share with them, and being invited to stay for meals they made. I've got a room there to rest my head, if I need it when I'm on that side of town. I sometimes watch their kids. I really do feel like I'm one of the family."

"Seraph's a good man, although I feel like he could stand to get out from the forge a little more often. But I don't know if he knows what to do with himself when he's not working."

"Jinx used to scare me, but I think she's relaxed a lot since moving into the home. I'm not scared that she and Caitlyn will kill each other anymore. Jin's a handful sometimes, but he seems easy enough to placate. Have you seen the way he looks at Nalina? I think he's got a thing for fire, so I might ward the house for fire protection sometime....actually, might just do that anyway."

"Caroline's got a lot of energy and enthusiasm, which she channels into everything she does, from parkour to pet-ownership. Her menagerie would be almost untenable for anyone else, but it seems to be second-nature to her. I wonder if she could get a part-time job at the zoo..."

"Neph's an interesting one. I think Seraph was sitting on that project before I arrived, but after some prodding, he reopened it and finished it. She's both the most and least responsible of his kids. As the...biggest, if not the oldest, she seems to take a hand in running the house, regularly cooking or helping with the kids. But on the other hand, I know she was sneaking off to the fighting pits and needed repairs from time to time. I appreciate that she loves her family, but she's a fighter living in a more peaceful age, and I worry that she struggles with that."

"Sera's another interesting one. Seraph's sister, and she seems pretty wise most of the time. Perhaps that's an elf thing? Motherhood seems like it was a difficult transition for her, but she's determined to do it as best as she can. I think the love and support she gets from her family really helps. She works hard, probably as hard as Seraph, but she's a lot quieter about it. I try to sneak her elvish treats and care packages when I can find them for sale. Lief seems to follow Jin and Aura around, wanting to be involved in their games. She's not the baby anymore, but she's certainly a younger sibling. Her look of awe when she saw her baby sibling, though, was certainly something to see. I think she wants to be a good sister."

"Michelle's the newcomer, but she's got history with Seraph. An old flame from long ago, but Seraph still held onto her sigil. He's a hopeless romantic...but then, so am I, and I think it was sweet. She and him are both stubborn and need prodding to talk openly to each other, even if you can practically see the chemistry the two have when they're in the same room. She struggles with feeling like she belongs in the family, and I kinda get why, but if I'm a part of this family, then she most certainly is."

[urbanmaman1]

Fashion Meets Function: The Rise of Nursing Friendly Clothes

Motherhood is a journey filled with love, joy, and its fair share of challenges. For nursing mothers, one such challenge is finding clothes that strike the perfect balance between comfort, style, and functionality. Thankfully, the fashion industry has taken notice, giving rise to a trend that's revolutionizing the way mothers dress – nursing friendly clothes.

Gone are the days when nursing attire was limited to oversized tops and awkwardly placed zippers. Today, nursing friendly clothes combine fashion-forward designs with discreet nursing access, empowering mothers to breastfeed with confidence wherever they go. From casual tees to elegant dresses, there's a plethora of options catering to every style preference.

One of the hallmarks of nursing friendly clothing is its thoughtful design. Many pieces feature hidden openings, cleverly disguised as stylish details like zippers, buttons, or overlapping layers. These discreet openings allow for easy access during breastfeeding while maintaining the integrity of the garment's design. Mothers no longer have to sacrifice style for functionality – they can have both.

Comfort is another key feature of nursing friendly clothes. Soft, breathable fabrics like cotton, bamboo, and modal are commonly used, ensuring that both mother and baby stay comfortable during feeding sessions. Additionally, many pieces are designed to accommodate postpartum bodies, with stretchy materials and adjustable features that provide a flattering fit at every stage.

Versatility is yet another advantage of nursing friendly clothing. From office meetings to weekend outings, these garments effortlessly transition from one occasion to another. Layering pieces like cardigans and wrap tops not only add style but also offer extra coverage for nursing in public. With nursing friendly clothes, mothers can feel confident and stylish no matter the setting.

The convenience of nursing friendly clothing extends beyond breastfeeding sessions. Many pieces are machine washable and designed to withstand the wear and tear of daily life with a newborn. This durability ensures that nursing mothers can rely on their wardrobe to keep up with the demands of motherhood without sacrificing quality or style.

Furthermore, the inclusivity of nursing friendly clothing is worth celebrating. Brands are increasingly recognizing the diverse needs of nursing mothers, offering a wide range of sizes and styles to suit every body type. This inclusivity promotes body positivity and empowers mothers to embrace their postpartum journey with confidence and grace.

In addition to catering to the needs of Nursing Clothes For Women mothers, the growing popularity of nursing friendly clothing reflects a broader cultural shift towards embracing motherhood in all its facets. By acknowledging the realities of breastfeeding and designing clothing that supports this natural process, the fashion industry is sending a powerful message of support to mothers everywhere.

As society continues to evolve, so too does our understanding of what it means to be a mother. Nursing friendly clothing represents more than just a fashion trend – it's a symbol of empowerment, inclusivity, and the celebration of motherhood in all its beauty and complexity.

[melissa-driggers-photography]

Discover All The Wonders Of NOVA Wild Conservation Park

When you have younger kids, it can be really easy to fall into a cycle where screens are your default mode of entertainment. Parenting is stressful, and it can be hard to find a break without turning on an episode (or twelve) of Bluey. If the Heeler family has you itching to break away from the television and make some memories, I would love to tell you about NOVA Wild. This amazing organization is dedicated to bringing nature to Northern Virginia thanks to its conservation efforts and its wilderness park.   

About NOVA Wild

  NOVA Wild was founded originally as the Reston Zoo and served as a favorite spot for the community for years. Tara Campbell Lussier was one of the many Reston children who grew up familiar with the park, so when it became available decades later, she jumped at the opportunity to transform a piece of the city’s history. Tara turned the park into an ethical zoo that prioritized the animals’ welfare while still giving families the chance at a wildlife encounter. Every employee at the zoo has been thoroughly trained to ensure they treat the animals with the dignity needed. Their goal is to continuously improve the park so families can learn more about wildlife firsthand. The non-profit zoo also funds conservation efforts so we can continue to appreciate these creatures for a long, long time.  Wild Amounts of Fun NOVA Wild rests on over 30 acres and features over 200 animals. The park features both a walk-through and a drive-through section. So you can experience wildlife in the way that works for you. With the drive-through interactive safari, you can stay relaxed while getting to see animals, including the Asian water buffalo. Following the tour, you can walk through the zoo and find animals, including cheetahs, wallabies, capybaras, and birds. The zoo gives you the ability to customize your visit by purchasing tickets for NOVA Wild Encounters. With this option, you’ll have a zookeeper by your side as you meet sloths, kangaroos, fawns, anteaters, or capybaras. The site does have a snack bar as well as food trucks. So you can spend an entire day amongst the wildlife and refresh when needed.  Specialty NOVA Wild offers additional experiences that you simply cannot find anywhere else. Their Private VIP Oasis gives you a relaxing space where you can pack a cooler and unwind while supporting animal welfare efforts. Need a stretch? NOVA Wild lets you book some goat yoga so you can exercise with some friendly creatures before getting to explore the rest of the zoo. The park also lets you book field trips and private events for an unforgettable party. 

NOVA Wild

  With NOVA Wild, you can ditch the screens while getting to know animals from all across the globe. Check out this one-of-a-kind zoo for an adventure your family will remember for years to come.    If you need another way to make some family memories, we should chat. I’m a Northern Virginia family photographer, and I love working with families to create gorgeous portraits so they can hang onto this time for years to come. As a mom myself, I know how quickly time flies by, and I want to help you slow it down a bit! If you’ve been considering booking some portraits for your family, I’d love to have a conversation so you can decide if I’m the photographer for you. Contact me today to get the conversation started!    For more motherhood content, check out these blog posts: - Join A Warm & Nurturing Community at a Northern Virginia Daycare Read the full article

[countess-of-edessa]

oh wait i actually do understand. family and love are the biggest most important things in life, they are what give meaning to life and acting in service to family and love is the most meaningful work a person can do. the importance of family life as fulfilling is extremely deemphasized to men and emphasized in all the wrong ways to women.

especially because men are traditionally breadwinners and in the last century or two the only ones to work outside the home, there’s more of a separation between a man and his family life. he is a husband and a father, but he is other things than that. he also goes through none of the physical challenges of bearing children, is not required physically for his children to live in the same way their mother is, and in general his whole being is not irreparably altered when his children come into the world. more than likely, he does far fewer home-related chores and spends more time outside the home than his wife. more than that, there are no (or few, and they are distinguished by their rarity) "daddy blogs" where men talk at length about gentle parenting, montessouri education, styling their children's hair, dealing with tantrums, even though fathers are meant to have an equal stake in raising their children. there aren’t changing rooms in men’s bathrooms, men are less likely to try to only make friends with "other daddies" and spend their time together discussing their children. men not in the role of primary caretaker aren’t expected to know their children's birthdays or allergies or friends.

as everything else feminism-adjacent, women look at the way men are doing it and assume that just aping that will provide them with the satisfaction they worry they will be unable to find in motherhood because they are surrounded by a culture that makes motherhood either a complete identity or an incidental element of a woman's life. people say mothers are saints, but they don’t want to talk to them. all fun things, which are the things that give life meaning and without which you are lame, boring, and a sucker, are incompatible with motherhood, and the tasks of motherhood are invisible and thankless to those who don’t have children. being a mother and talking about it is only allowed in the context of talking to other mothers, otherwise it’s stupid. if a woman wants to be taken seriously as an actual person she should either not have children or have enough resources to make it as though she doesn’t have children, in the professional or artistic or social sphere. motherhood isnt desirable, motherhood isn’t artistic, motherhood isn’t intellectual, motherhood is vaguely embarrassing to make your whole life because there’s nothing valuable in it for anyone who isn’t also a mother. and if you notice that this is what everyone has been saying your whole life, and you are worried because you don’t feel as though domestic labor and childcare will completely fulfill you, and you are worried that if you stay at home you will be working 24/7 while your husband works 9-5, you might turn to the idea of keeping a job in order to feel more like your own person and less like "just a wife and mother". after all, that’s what men have always done.

but who said the men had anything worth coveting? the average modern man is undisciplined, weak, and obsessed with comfort, not happy and self-actualized because of his identity separated from his family. in the easy and inauthentic nature of our modern society, with little to no physical challenge, community, or meaningful spirituality for a majority of people, he’s not connected to anything more real or worth doing than his marriage and children. and he is discouraged from society from making his marriage and family a meaningful part of his identity (and of course, it’s easier to do that because it means doing less labor, and our fallen nature inclines us all to seek out less labor and not more) because much of child-rearing is kind of gross, stupid, unintellectual, and embarrassing, and especially for men when it is compounded with the embarrassment of acting womanish (while for women, acting mannish is a privilege and a compliment). he is naturally deprived of the ability to make any kind of physical sacrifices the way mothers do, and further distanced by the relegation of family life to the domain of women.

don’t understand how people can be like "quiet quit!! these companies hate you!! they’ll post your replacement the day you die and won’t shed a tear!! your job doesn’t define your worth and shouldn’t be your life!" and then go "i mean i think women who want to do that should be able to but i could never be JUST a wife and mom" like being a data entry specialist is what gives meaning to your life, not your eternal bond of love and partnership and the new human lives you have brought into the world and nurture daily to one day experience the joys and sorrows of life on this earth

[devilsdiscipleshq]

THE BASICS | brie barlow

name: Brie Barlow face claim: Florence Pugh age & date of birth: 30, January 21st, 1993 hometown: Chicago, Illinois time in chicago: Entire life, aside from college neighborhood: West side occupation: Lawyer at Rossi & Rossi Law Firm

THE MAGNATE | background

As the story goes — Edward Barlow and Cynthia Sinclair meet in the early 90s, at a charity event where the two are the youngest attendees. Immediately they spark a whirlwind romance that graces the cover of nearly every tabloid. The heir to the Barlow Hotels fortune and known associate of the Italian Mob with Miss Universe on his arm? It’s the perfect recipe for a brand new It couple. Barely six months had passed before Cynthia was sporting a diamond on her left hand, the two wed in an entirely over the top ceremony before the year was over. Their image is picture perfect, with a life others could only dream of – It all seems picturesque, a mixture of glamour and danger, not showing the less polished reality they live in. Of course, the Barlows were always happy to flaunt their wealth each time they left their high rise, quick to remind the world of what tax bracket they were in.

And two years into their marriage, they welcome their first and only child – Brie, who is immediately part of the charade her family puts on. Designer labels and high society made for a good distraction from the less-than-legal associations the Barlow family is known for. With their family business serving as a stage for the Italian Mob, it’s hard not to speculate about the truth. Edward Barlow eventually took over his father’s role as a Capo, continuing the Barlow’s long-standing relationship. Of course, anyone outside of their circle would never know that with certainty, nor would they be able to find a trail with it. Instead, they’d be blinded by the diamonds Cynthia wore or her daughter’s need to be seen center stage.

Brie is a mini-me of her mother from day one – Something Cynthia happily curated herself. Her daughter was brought into a life of incredible privilege and wealth, and as soon as her mother got her chance, Brie started the pageant circuit. In the 80s, Cynthia had been the reigning Queen of the pageant world, winning countless crowns before finally embarking on the piece de resistance of the time – Miss Universe. Soon after, she transitioned her career into modeling and philanthropy, then motherhood. Brie was entranced by it all from the start, idolizing the image of perfection her mother put on display for the world. Being the center of attention was something she loved, thrived in. The outfits and theatrics only made it more exciting. While most children spent their days on the playground and playing with toys – Her free time was spent in etiquette classes and meeting with her pageant coach.

As a young girl, it became all too easy to conflate the real world and the stage; Whether Brie was top of her class, crowned Miss Pageant-of-the-month, establishing herself as the “queen” of her social scene. Brie poised herself as something others should aspire to, ambitious to a fault as she pushed her way past others if her own, honest efforts weren’t enough. Manipulation and sabotage helped her move along, a trait she easily picked up from her mother’s deceiving smiles and double speak, and her father’s way of doing business – It became almost second nature to step on a few toes each time she sought out a new goal or desire, more than happy to throw anyone under the bus if it meant she’d pass the finish line first.

This all created a notable reputation for Brie – That of a wolf in sheep’s clothing for those who knew her, and that of a driven young woman to those who didn’t. She was solid teflon, strategic in everything she does – Keeping a spotless image, refusing to let any cracks show. Somewhere along the way, reality and image warped together – Being the best was what got her trophies, attention and opportunities, her mother’s love. There was never an option for failure and growth, only perfection in everything she does. She comes by it honestly, having learned from a young age that if she’s not first, she’s last – Her mother’s direction and criticism warp her mindset, reminding her daughter that she’ll never be able to reach the standard held for her. The way Brie sees it – What’s the point of doing anything if you can’t be the best? It’s an ideal she’s always lived by, contributing to both her successes and self-resentment, a narrative only further perpetuated by her family.

Her determination is what gets her admission to Princeton, pursuing a degree in Criminal Justice. While her mother would have much preferred for Brie to remain in Chicago and find a nice boy to marry – Her goals only became larger and larger. After four years on the East Coast, however, she does make the return to the city she calls home. With that, she attends University of Chicago’s law school, earning herself a joint JD/MBA – And of course, what her mother says is the most important: A diamond ring on her left hand.

The latter comes from a long-time boyfriend during her law school years – Luke Caruso, the son of another Capo for the Family, as well as a family friend. She had never given him a second glance when they were younger, given that he’d been a few years older than her. But, reconnecting during their rigorous law school program proved to be enough to spark a romance. One her degree is in her hand, it’s not long until her unmatched work ethic and a heavy, heavy dose of nepotism land her a job at a law firm associated with the Family. She hits the ground running in her career field, all while planning the event of the year – her own wedding. The ceremony was an accumulation of all her hard work and schemes, to be the true beginning to the next chapter in her life: Happily Ever After.

Her relationship with Luke had never been seen as the healthiest – They were two sides of the same coin, constantly caught up in manipulating one another and screaming in each other’s faces just as often as they were declaring their love and devotion. It didn’t take hindsight to see they were a ticking time bomb, bound to leave quite the trail of destruction in their wake. Regardless, Brie was in love, so sure she’d met her match in every way possible. The way she saw it --It doesn’t matter what happens behind closed doors, right? Love is about perception, the narrative they create and the world sees, rather than something to be truly felt. A small voice in the back of her head reminded her that it was a bad idea, that they were absolutely rushing and were too young – But she was in love, and wasn’t going to hear it. As far as she could see, she’d done everything right; The right look, the right career, the right dress, the right guy. If she had to force the puzzle pieces together, so be it.

As the wedding march begins and the doors open, Brie’s receives news by the shocked faces of everyone at the ceremony – And the distinct lack of a groom at the end of the aisle. Luke had left her at the altar, abandoning their life together without explanation or reasoning. Once the chaos of the almost-ceremony is sorted, the dust begins to settle and reality comes with it.

It’s like he truly disappeared – No call, no text, no note. All of his clothes remain in the closet, his home office still in order, car in the driveway. It’s an eerie feeling, one that initially makes her panic. Part of her tries to convince herself he’d gone on a bender, that he’d gotten drunk and ended up in California or something equally as ridiculous and grandiose. It’s what she told herself as the first night went on, when her calls reaches his voicemail until the inbox is full and his mother tells her she hasn’t seen him. A terrible, sinking feeling quickly settles in. There’s no miscommunication or misunderstand – Her husband has left her. Needless to say, the devastation she’s left with is unmatched. Brie has never been one to let her emotions control her, but the weight of this betrayal is one she’s never felt before – It has her spiraling for weeks, unable to emerge from her own bed or put on the facade she’s become so accustomed to putting on. There’s no way to spin this, no way to brush it under the rug and pretend she’s not in pieces. She’d done everything right – Worked hard and fought to remain at the top, maintain the seemingly spotless image she’d crafted. And yet, she’s left alone, reminded that despite her best efforts, Brie will never be enough.

The iron grip of control she once had on her life has loosened, much to her chagrin. As time goes on, every time she tries to hide a crack in her armor a new one appears. Brie attempts to carry on as if nothing is wrong, as if her entire life wasn’t uprooted and she wasn’t left behind. She plays the role she’s known for so long, lifting her chin high and pretending she’s not stuck with the sinking feeling that she really is the villain she worries she may be. As time goes on, it becomes more and more difficult to put up a front – Fielding questions about her failed marriage and her husband’s disappearing act pull an Oscar worthy performance from her. Putting a heavy focus on work helps, makes it easier to compartmentalize when she has something else to put her energy into, instead of trying to figure out how to move on.

Within the two years that have passed since the end of her engagement, Brie puts forth her best effort to find a sense of control in her life, rather than succumb to the spiral. She’s figured out how to live a reluctantly single life, though her mother continues to remind her that she’s alone. Critiques from gossip magazines, strangers, friends – That’s easy to brush off, roll her eyes and come back with a hurtful retort to get the attention away from her wounds. But the commentary from her mother stings, pokes at her bruises and hurts more than Brie wants to admit it does. Cynthia has always been the one person who can throw her off course, never failing to leave her daughter feeling small and deflated. In an attempt to combat that, as well as put literal distance between the two – Brie changes anything she can get her hands on.

She sells her high rise on the North side in favor of renovating a cottage on the West side, ridding herself of anything that reminds her of the man who left her. She takes a job at Rossi & Rossi Law Firm, much to her family’s chagrin, taking on the role of one of the lawyers who defend the Devil’s Disciples MC. The club had proved to be more of a family than her own – Namely her cousin, Nico, had been a shoulder to lean on at the worst of it all, choosing to help her move on rather than pick at her scabs. Her parent’s had been more than disappointed to hear about her decision – Though, that only brought a certain excitement to it all, as well. It’s jarring to think that despite her best efforts, despite every seemingly perfect detail and correct step she took – Brie was left behind, on her own. Keeping control of her life was never a difficult feat before, never been something she had to white knuckle with an iron grip. Despite the life changes she’s made, it seems that each time she tries to hide a crack in her facade, a new one appears.