#happiest of birthdays to my wife 🥰

[rosyblooom]

I just finished watching Daisy Jones and the Six and I wanted to ask if you could write a Charles SMAU where his wife passes away from illness and leaves a video behind for him to find happiness. They can have a little child together please. Thank you😊❤️

when i die, i want you to live | cl16 smau

PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: after battling illness, y/n unexpectedly succumbs to it much sooner than expected, leaving behind her husband and their daughter. 8 months later, charles is not coping very well, so your best friend hands him an envelope addressed to him from you. WARNING(S): mentions of death, sad A/N: ooh i love that show!! anyway, this is my first ever request (!!), so hope it's as u imagined 🫶

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading!! <3

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: I sure hope so!😌 ] [ caption 2: my heart is so full🥹💕 ]

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 735,290 others

charles_leclerc Today, 27 years ago, is the very special day that brought me my beautiful wife and best friend. Forever grateful for that. Happiest of birthdays to you, Mon cœur ❤️

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username HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N WE LOVE YOU😍

username all time favourite wag ! 🥰

yourusername ❤️❤️

(liked by author)

username ly girl🫶

username oh she won😩

username **they. they're both literally perfect omg username nah u right my bad🫡

scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n 🥳🥳

username if my man ain't like charles i don't want him

username real

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 263,719 others

yourusername had the loveliest birthday with my dearest people!💕thank you for all the birthday wishes, they've been such a joy! 🥹 here's to another beautiful year, here's to 27🥂

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yourbestfriend ily to the moon and back ❤️❤️

yourusername love u so much🥹

username queen🫶

username 27 and still looks young af iktr! see what happens when u're unproblematic😌

username that's bc 27 IS young lol

charles_leclerc belle👸

yourusername 😘 username you guys are so cute omg username *cries in 29 and single*🤧

username girl drop the link to the dress RIGHT NOW @/yourusername

yourusername it's from my spring collection love! xx username you ate that y/n😌

iamrebeccad you look so pretty 💗

yourusername my girl 🤍

Three weeks later...

tmz_tv

liked by username, username, username and 1,005,862 others

tmz_tv Tragic news emerged in the early hours of this morning as Y/N L/N-Leclerc, a renowned fashion designer and philanthropist, passed away unexpectedly, just three weeks past her twenty-seventh birthday. Her untimely passing has left her family and friends in shock and disbelief.

In a statement released by her family, it was revealed that Y/N had been battling illness for an undisclosed duration. However, medical professionals had initially estimated a longer prognosis, making her sudden passing even more devastating.

During this profoundly sorrowful time, we extend our heartfelt condolences to Y/N's family.

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username wow and to think she was always so smiley even with all this going on behind the scenes

username a literal ray of sunshine🥹

username I can't imagine how charles feels right now omg, please take care charlie🫶

username this doesn't feel real...

username y/n was always working with charities all across the globe, she was an absolute angel. her impact will live on 💛

username is it just me who's thinking about their little girl in all this?? she must be so heartbroken :(

username I think bc she's so young she probably doesn't even understand what's going on😭💔

username y/n, you were a great addition to the paddock, always smiling and just all around lovely to fans. we won't ever forget you!💕

username sending prayers to the family 🙏

scuderiaferrari

liked by username, username, username and 594,752 others

scuderiaferrari Due to personal matters, Charles Leclerc will not be continuing racing for the remainder of the season. Ollie Bearman, our reserve driver, will take his place instead.

This was not an easy decision, and therefore we ask that you handle this news with respect and sensitivity.

Our thoughts and support are with Charles Leclerc and his family during this challenging time. 🙏❤️

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8 months later...

Charles enters the living room, ensuring the door closes softly behind him to avoid disturbing his little girl. Running his fingers over his beard, he examines the envelope in his hand and sighs. Y/N’s best friend pressed it into his hand at a dinner party the previous evening, insisting he watch it as soon as he finds the time. And here he is now, holding the thin envelope.

If someone had told him when he was younger that he’d get emotional over something as simple as seeing his wife’s handwriting on paper, he would have scoffed in disbelief. Not him, that would have seemed absurd. Yet here he is, feeling a lump form in his throat over mere black ink on paper.

As peculiar as it seems, he brings the envelope to his nose, and memories of Y/N flood his mind. He can almost feel her soothing touch as she works the knots out of his back after a gruelling day of racing. Inhaling, he feels Y/N’s sweet scent—it is as comforting as her smile.

A smile tugs at Charles' lips as he pictures that infectious grin that lit up his wife’s face at the most unexpected moments. It was one of the things he loved most about her—she had a way of bringing brightness to even the darkest of days.

Shaking his head, he snaps out of the trance, shifting deeper into the living room until he sinks into the welcoming embrace of the couch. There, he retrieves the laptop resting on the coffee table, feeling the weight of the moment as he opens the envelope and extracts a flash drive from within. Rolling it between his fingers, he inserts it into the side of his laptop with a determined motion.

Once all is in place, he watches a file labelled “To my dearest Lover, brightest Heart, and deepest Soul” materialise in his list of files. The sight catches him off guard—his throat constricts, making each breath a struggle, and his eyes well up, though he fights against the tears. Not now. He can't afford it. Allowing himself to be consumed by grief would mean losing precious time, time he needs for his daughter waiting in her playroom down the hallway.

He takes a moment to regain composure, squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on the rhythm of his breath until the tension in his chest begins to ease. With a sharp intake of air, he opens his eyes wide and taps the file, revealing a video. Running his teeth over his lower lip, he hovers the pointer over the play button, then taps the mousepad with a steady hand.

The video opens with Y/N seated on the very same pale couch he’s currently occupying. He places both hands onto the soft sofa, yearning for a connection, a way to feel her, even though he knows he can’t—touching the past is impossible.

Y/N walks toward the camera, readjusting it before taking three steps backward and retaking her seat. Inhaling deeply, she hesitates, her mouth opening, then closing again, like a fish out of water.

“Mon cœur,” Charles whispers, moving the laptop onto the coffee table.

“Hmm,” Y/N drops her hands into her lap and smooths down her flowery dress. She stares directly at the camera, tilting her head sideways with a crooked smile. “I don’t know where to start.”

Her eyes widen. “After all this planning, I still don’t know where to begin.” She lets out a few chuckles and then purses her lips. “Well, I suppose greetings are in order?”

Her expression softens as her brows furrow. “Hello, my darling, my world, my everything.”

“Hey,” Charles whispers, his throat tight with emotion, barely allowing sound to escape.

“Although I'm very happy to see you, if you’re watching this, it means you're not living as I want you to,” Y/N's voice trembles, causing her to pause and swallow. “I know it’s hard, baby. I don’t expect this to be easy on you, but I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life looking back at us in sadness, you know?”

Charles leans forward, elbows on his lap, eyes fixed on the screen, his face tinged with a faint shade of red.

“Remember our first date, when we had to cancel our reservations at that restaurant because you felt sick on the way there?” Y/N bursts into laughter but quickly stifles it, her hand covering her mouth.

“No, no,” Charles pleads softly, shaking his head, “please don’t hide your beautiful smile, my love.”

“It’s not like there was anything you could do about being sick, but I remember feeling miffed because I already had a stressful day, so for you to cancel just like that, it irritated me,” she reminisces with a nod. “But you were quite pale, so I wanted to make sure you got home alright. And we walked, barely talked,” she giggles, the joy reaching her eyes, “but then this little kid appeared, his name was…”

“Benny,” they both say simultaneously, a faint smile tugging at one corner of Charles' lips.

"Boy, was he excited to meet you, his idol. It was like seeing a completely different person. You became someone entirely new for this little boy whom you didn’t even know. Nobody forced you to take time out of your day when he came running, his arms wide open," Y/N says, extending her arms along with the words. "You could’ve just walked away. I mean, you had a reason to: you were sick."

Pausing for a moment, Y/N sits up straighter, leaning forward and shaking her head. "But you didn’t. You put on a brave face, and you turned into Benny’s hero and so much more. I think we stood there with his parents for about half an hour, and you didn’t complain once. And that’s when I knew."

Y/N nods, crossing her legs and slinging one hand behind the sofa. "That’s when I knew you could be the man I was going to marry. And turns out you were," she says, smiling sheepishly. "The love you have for people, for our daughter, it’s… it’s so profound, it’s boundless. So don’t limit it. Don’t you dare limit yourself just because I’m not around anymore."

Her expression turns serious as she exhales. “You’re such a bright light. You bring happiness and purity into people’s lives—into my life,” Y/N presses her hand against her chest. “I don’t want you to dim it. I want you to shine for as long as that candle burns. Don’t let it die prematurely because of bad happenings. There’s so much more to love, to live, to enjoy. And while you may not see me at your side anymore, holding onto D/N, I’m right here.”

Charles sniffles, folding his hands over his mouth as he swallows his sobs, while Y/N points to her heart.

“I’m with you forever and always. I’m protecting you and D/N, and I’m watching over you, making sure everything’s alright.” Y/N releases a sigh before chewing at her bottom lip with a wistful smile. “And part of that means making space for more love, for you. You have a big heart, you know? There’s enough room for you to find happiness with someone new. There’s no shame in it, and there’s no guilt in it. It’s what makes being alive such a beautiful thing: your love is yours, and it’s not confined to just one or two people. You can spread it, and still, our love will remain unchanged.”

Tears stream down the sides of Charles' cheeks as he struggles to maintain his composure, his eyes fixated on the screen as if afraid that if he peels his gaze away for one second, his wife will disappear.

Y/N briefly looks off to the side, her attention seemingly caught by something in the room, before snapping her head back to the camera with a bright smile.

“It seems I have to go,” her shoulders sink.

Charles leans forward, the screen mere inches away from his face, as he strokes the outline of Y/N’s face on the screen, whispering desperately, “Please don’t, mon cœur…”

“I love you so, so much. You and D/N are the most precious gifts, the greatest joys I have had the privilege to experience, so please, please,” she claps her hands together, moving them back and forth, “please…when I die, I want you to live.”

Y/N rises from the couch and walks towards the screen, her eyes unwavering for even a moment. “Give my little girl all my love, and kiss and hug her extra tight for as long as you can, for me.”

Offering one final smile, she blows a kiss at the screen. “I love you. Please don’t stop. Don't stop loving and don't stop living.”

The video freezes with Y/N frozen in place, a beautiful smile etched onto her lips, filled with the purest form of love.

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Charles collapses, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He drops his face into his hands and releases all of it: sob after sob after sob. There’s something liberating about finally letting go; the burden pours out of him, leaving behind a fragile yet tranquil Charles as he gazes at the still shot of his beloved wife, whom he adores so deeply.

A soft click draws his attention to the door just in time for it to creak open slowly, revealing his little girl standing there, her favourite yellow teddy bear clutched tightly in her arms.

“Papa,” her voice floats like a gentle breeze.

Charles smiles, opening his arms wide as she runs towards him. He's momentarily winded as she reaches him, but he quickly regains his composure and lifts her onto his lap.

“Hello, my love,” he whispers, touching his forehead to hers.

Her tiny hand pats his cheek, her expression filled with concern. “You’re crying?”

Charles shakes his head, trying to reassure her. “Happy tears,” he explains, “look.” He points at the screen, where Y/N's serene face is frozen in time.

“Maman!” D/N exclaims, slipping from his lap and heading towards the screen. Her small hands tap the screen eagerly as she calls out, “Maman! Maman! Maman!”

“Yes,” Charles swallows, ignoring the pang in his chest as he shifts his focus to his little girl. “You want to see Maman, huh?”

He rises from the sofa and lifts D/N into the air, settling her on his hip. “How about we go take a look at the photo albums, okay? There are lots of beautiful pictures of Maman in there, alright?”

“Maman! Maman! Maman!” D/N continues to exclaim, squirming excitedly in his arms as they walk through the door and down the hallway into the living room.

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username and 14,296 others

f1gossipofficial Nine months after the tragic passing of his wife, Y/N, Charles Leclerc has been spotted for the first time on a beach in Spain with their shared daughter.

Witnesses who captured the photographs above mentioned that he appeared to be coping well, and fans respectfully gave them space while appreciating the sight from afar.

We're glad to see Charles out and about again, and we extend our best wishes to him and his family as they continue to navigate these changes.

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username im so glad the fans kept to themselves

username right?? so respectful🫶

username charlie🥹❤️ it's been so long but we'll always be here whenever he's ready

username tbh I was very worried during the radio silence but I think him being out there is a step in the right direction🥲

username still can't believe y/n is no longer here... i miss her sm😭

username omg there's a vid on twitter of them playing ball and u can hear their daughter giggling 💕

username I can't find it could you pls send the link?🙏 username dmed u! username me too pls

username it must be so hard to grief y/n while also trying to be strong for their daughter :( sending him all the strength!!

username 😭😭😭

4:44 ────────────ㅇ 4:44

[pedrithink]

dream family ✩ pedri gonzalez

couple: pedri x reader! messi

request: im on my knees begging for a messi reader x pedri 🙏🏼 soc med au or oneshot i will take what i can get

face claim: olivia grivas

NOW: Inter Miami CF Press Conference | Lionel Messi

comments ⬇️

user1 messi showing all his support for pedri's relationship with his daughter, how nice to see him so happy enjoying life with his family.

user2 it’s actually a tragedy that we won’t get to see Messi and Pedri play together again, pretty sure that yn would love to watch this masterpiece too. her boyfriend with her father 🔥

user3 for messi, pedri is one of the best talents in world football. they enjoyed looking for each other in the short time they played together.

user4 @user3 bring them back please 😭

user5 messi's children are everything to him, so if he supports this relationship it's because he trusts pedri 🥺

pedri has added to their story

ynmessi

Liked by pedri, leomessi, and 3.772.872 others

ynmessi miami days with mom and dad 💕✨ estoy tan orgullosa de vós, papá. te quiero muchísimo! gracias por todo lo que has hecho por mí y no sabes la inspiración que sos para mí. 💗💖💕💞

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antonelaroccuzzo mi niña hermosa, la mas linda y buena ❤️❤️ te queremos muchooooo 🥰❤️❤️

ynmessi @antonelaroccuzzo te quiero, má 💖

leomessi te quiero hija 😘❤️

ynmessi te quiero, pá 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

user1 your father is a LEGEND

user2 yn, what brand are your pants and top?

pedri 😍😍

ynmessi @pedri 💗🫶🏻

user3 guapaaaaas y el capitán más hermoso del mundo 😍 (pretties and the most beautiful captain in the world)

user4 la mujer y la hija del 10 no se mira (we cannot look at 10's wife and daughter)

ynmessi has added to their story

ynmessi

Liked by antonelaroccuzzo, pedri, and 3.447.972 others

ynmessi happiest birthday with my favorite people 💐 thank you for the love everyone - heart is so full 💝🥺

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antonelaroccuzzo siempre quiero verte feliz, mi niña 🥰

ynmessi @antonelaroccuzzo lo mismo, mamá. no puedo expresar o tanto qué te quiero 💝

user5 MESSI AND PEDRI OMG HOW MUCH I MISS THIS DUO

user6 imagine having messi and pedri at your birthday party and at the same time them being your father and boyfriend! YN WON IN LIFE

user7 the way yn and pedri treat each other is so cute 😞

leomessi 😍❤️

ynmessi has added to their story

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

1968 [Chapter 7: Apollo, God Of Music]

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 8.7k

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🥰

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

“My uncle, he is a doctor in Zabrze,” Ludwika says, red Yardley lips, Camel cigarette. No one cares if she smokes; she’s not campaigning to be the next first lady. Fosco is puffing on a cigar. Mimi sips drowsily at her Gimlet; you could use a few shots, but you’re making do with a Pink Squirrel, something sweet and feminine and without any bite. “So I go to him and he gives me a bottle of chlordiazepoxide.”

“Oh, Librium,” Mimi says, perking up.

Ludwika waves her hand dismissively; cigarette smoke wafts through the air. “Whatever. The next day I have my audition. A tiny man who thinks he’s God. And I give it a real shot, I try my best, I’m nice, I’m charming, but he doesn’t like me. He says my teeth are too big, like a mouse’s. This is very rude. I did not comment on his fidgety little rat hands. But okay, no problem, I have a plan. No one will stop me from getting out of Poland.”

“You drugged him?” you ask, incredulous, grinning.

“You are a criminal,” Fosco tells Ludwika. “I will call J. Edgar Hoover, you should not be so close to positions of power.”

“Listen, listen,” Ludwika insists. “Here is what I do. I thank him very much for his consideration, and then as I leave I drop my purse and things go everywhere. I filled it before I left my apartment, of course. Anything I could find, empty lipstick tubes and perfume bottles, old makeup compacts with broken mirrors, coins, hair pins, tissues, pens, gum, Krówki candies, it is an avalanche. And when he bends down to help me pick up the mess—I have to encourage him, ‘oh sir won’t you grab that, I am just a stupid girl in a very short dress,’ you understand—I put the pills in his tea.”

“How many pills?” you ask.

“I don’t know. You think I had time to count? Maybe seven.”

“Seven?!” Mimi exclaims, and you take this to mean it was a generous dose.

“What? He did not die,” Ludwika says. “I wait two days and then I go back to his office. And it is so strange, can you believe it, he does not remember my audition! So I remind him that he thought I would be perfect for the ad he is shooting in Paris. He keeps squinting at me and saying ‘are you sure, are you sure?!’ Of course I’m sure! A week later, I am standing under the Eiffel Tower with a bottle of Coca-Cola. And then I book a job in London, and then another in New York City, and one of my new model friends sets me up on a blind date with Otto. Lunch in Astoria at a horrible Greek restaurant. Who wants to eat pie made out of spinach?! Now I am here with you people, and the journalists love when I smile for them with my big mouse teeth.”

All four of you laugh at your table, an elite club, the ones who married in. It’s Alicent’s 60th birthday, and the ballroom of the Texas State Hotel in downtown Houston is raucous with clinking glasses and chatter and music and the shutter clicks of photographers. The DJ is playing Fun, Fun, Fun by the Beach Boys. Alicent is dancing with Helaena and the children, and it’s the happiest you can ever remember seeing her. Otto, Aemond, and Sargent Shriver are deep in conversation by the bar, furrowed brows and Old Fashioneds, today’s newspapers and tomorrow’s itinerary. Criston is standing with the men but watching Alicent, face wistful, silver streaks in his jet black hair, and it occurs to you that they must have grown up together: Alicent a 19-year-old bride and Criston her husband’s fledgling bodyguard, the person closest to her age in the household, near and trusted and forbidden, orbiting adolescent twins like Artemis and Apollo. You keep looking around for Aegon. No one else seems aware that he’s gone.

“Otto thought he died and went to heaven when he found you,” you tell Ludwika. “His Eastern Bloc defector princess.”

“He is going to bring my mother to the States. I would be anything he wanted me to be. I would be a model, or a housewife, or a nurse. I would be Bigfoot! But this…” Ludwika gestures broadly: to the ballroom, the city, the latest stop on the campaign trail. “It is not so bad. I never expected to serve the Polish people so far from home. You know how you stop communism? You show the world that capitalism can do more for them. There must be a path to a better life, wars must be ended, injustices must be dealt with. Aemond will do that.” She grins at you, exhaling smoke through her nostrils. “You will help him.”

You reply a bit wryly: “It’s an honor.”

“We are like four legs of a table,” Fosco observes. He points at Ludwika with his smoldering cigar. “You are a Slav fleeing the Russians. My family has ancient titles in Italy and yet no castles, no land, we are essentially homeless. Mimi’s father is a third-generation oil tycoon from Pennsylvania. And she was supposed to fix Aegon.”

“I don’t think I succeeded,” Mimi confesses.

“And then when it was time for Aemond to get married…” Fosco turns to Mimi. “Do you remember? What an ordeal. The discussions went on and on and on. She must be smart, she must be sinless, she should be from a self-made family, a real rags-to-riches story of the American Dream.”

“Right.” Mimi nods groggily, reminiscing. “And from the South.”

“Yes! But not the Deep South. No, no. Someplace Aemond could actually win. Texas, Tennessee, North Carolina. Or Florida, of course.” Now Fosco notices how you’re looking at him, because you’ve never heard this before. He quickly pivots. “But the weekend Aemond met you, it was settled. Nobody could compare.”

His tone is odd; it suggests backstories, history, mythology. Ludwika appears to be just as intrigued as you are, taking a drag off her Camel, her eyes narrowing until they are thin and catlike. You ask: “Who else was being considered?”

“No one,” Fosco answers—too quickly—and he and Mimi exchange an uneasy glance.

What did Aemond and I talk about the night we met? you think dizzily. In those first hours, minutes, thirty seconds? Where I’m from. What I was studying.

Fosco, a true Italian, then attempts to deflect by flirting. He makes emphatic, passionate motions with his hands. “You were just so captivating, so clever…”

“And young enough that Aemond could easily beat Aegon’s record of five children,” Mimi adds. Fosco clears his throat and glares at her. Mimi realizes what she’s said and gazes forlornly down into her Gimlet, mortified, groaning softly. You’ve had one c-section already, and no living son to show for it. At most, you might be able to give Aemond two or three more children; and you don’t even want them. You want Ari back. You want to touch him, to hold him, even if only for a moment, even if only once.

“It’s fine,” you try to reassure Mimi, but everyone can tell it’s not.

Ludwika breaks the tension. “You do not want twenty kids anyway. Your uterus will fall out onto the floor.” And you’re so caught off-guard that all you can do is smile at her from across the table, knowing, appreciative. It’s a strange thing to be grateful for.

“She’s right,” Mimi says mournfully. “They had to sew mine back in.”

Fosco pleads: “Stop, stop, I will need a lobotomy.”

Mimi slurps on her Gimlet. “It’s sad. I used to love sex.”

“Mimi, please,” Fosco says, wincing, holding up his palms. “You are like my sister. I prefer to think you are the Virgin Mary.”

Ludwika sighs dramatically and looks to where Otto stands on the other side of the ballroom. “I used to love sex too.”

Now you’re all howling again, rocking back in your chairs. The DJ is playing Go Where You Wanna Go by the Mamas and the Papas. Cass Elliot is the real talent in that group and everybody knows it, but of course any mention of her must be dutifully accompanied by: If only she was more beautiful. If only she could lose weight and find a husband.

“I think you like it, yes?” Ludwika says to you like a dare, puffing on a fresh Camel, red lipstick staining the white paper, blood on sheets. She combs her manicured fingernails though her voluminous blonde hair. “I could tell when I met you. You dress like Jackie Kennedy, but you are not such a statue. She belongs in a museum. I can imagine you at the Summer of Love.”

Fosco and Mimi shift uncomfortably. It’s not the sort of thing they would ever ask you. It’s too personal, too easily a segue into criticizing Aemond. It’s a usurpation of the natural order. Mimi guzzles her Gimlet and flags down a waiter to get another. Fosco takes off his glasses and cleans them with his skinny black necktie.

Sex. You think back to before you began to dread it. This is difficult, like trying to remember Greek words or British manners, which fork to use with each course. Memories from another lifetime come back in flashes: tangled up with your first boyfriend in his tiny dorm room bed, Aemond peeling off your still-dripping swimsuit on the floor of your hotel room during your honeymoon in Hawaii. You shrug and give Ludwika a nod, a brisk, ungenerous answer in the affirmative. “I always feel like I could keep going.”

Paradoxically, this does not end the conversation. Ludwika, Fosco, and Mimi study you with the same bewildered, gear-spinning curiosity. After a moment Ludwika says: “Not after you’ve finished, surely. I am half dead by the end if it’s good.”

“Finished?” you ask, puzzled. All three of them gawk at you, then at each other.

Aegon breezes into the ballroom wearing the Gibson guitar he bought in Manhattan, blue like the Caribbean or the Mediterranean or the crystalline waves off the coast of Hawaii, dotted with fish and sea turtles. Your eyes go to him immediately and stay there; you can feel the swirling warmth of blood in your cheeks. As Aegon passes the table, he squeezes your shoulder—brief, familiar, welcome—and Fosco raises his thick eyebrows. Mimi is too busy gulping down her Gimlet to notice. Ludwika chuckles, low and wicked, then slides a makeup compact out of her Prada purse to check her lipstick. Aegon goes to the DJ and yells something over the music. He’s fucked up already, you can tell, pills or booze or both.

Fosco stops a passing waiter. “Signore, did you hear who won the United Nations Handicap?”

The waiter stares blankly back at him. “What?”

“The turf race at Monmouth Park. I have $200 on Dr. Fager.”

The DJ abruptly cuts off the music. Aegon gives his guitar a few practice strums to make sure it’s in tune. He stumbles when he walks, he lurches and sways. His blonde hair sticks to the sweat on his forehead. He is woefully underdressed. His white shirt is half-unbuttoned, his denim shorts tattered; on his feet he wears black moccasins. There is a small gold hoop in each of his ears. Otto keeps telling Aegon to take them out, and every time Aegon ignores him.

“Happy birthday, Mom,” you hear him say to Alicent, and she presses a palm to her heart, her dark eyes wide and shining. “When I first heard this, it made me think of you.”

Otto and Sargent Shriver—the aspiring vice president—are glowering at Aegon. Aemond smirks as he nips at an Old Fashioned, amused; but he makes sharp, intentional eye contact with each of the three journalists. You will tell the right version of this story, he means. You will not print anything we wouldn’t want written, or my family will be your enemies for life.

As soon as Aegon plucks the first few chords, you recognize the song. “Oh, that’s really funny.”

“What?” Fosco asks.

“It’s Mama Tried.” You stand and begin clapping, then motion for the rest of the table to do the same. They obey without protest, though Mimi can’t seem to keep track of the beat. Aegon is beaming as he sings.

“The first thing I remember knowin’

Was a lonesome whistle blowin’

And a youngin’s dream of growin’ up to ride

On a freight train leavin’ town

Not knowin’ where I'm bound

And no one could change my mind but Mama tried.”

Cosmo sprints over from where he had been dancing with Alicent. He grabs your hand and tugs you towards the center of the floor. “Let’s go, let’s go!” he shouts impatiently.

“Call the FBI, I’m being kidnapped,” you say to Fosco and Ludwika as you let Cosmo drag you away.

“One and only rebel child

From a family meek and mild

My Mama seemed to know what lay in store

Despite all my Sunday learnin’

Towards the bad I kept on turnin’

‘Til Mama couldn’t hold me anymore.”

At the heart of the ballroom, Criston has swooped in to dance with Alicent, slow chaste circling. Helaena has floated off to the bar to chat with Otto, who keeps all his smiles for her. The children—Targaryens and Shrivers alike—are stomping and cheering and alternating between various moves: the Mashed Potato, the Twist, the Swim, the Loco-Motion, the Watusi, the Pony in pairs. Aemond whistles to a photographer and then nods to where you are holding onto one of Cosmo’s tiny hands as he spins around at lawless, breakneck speed. Of course this would make for a good image: you being maternal, you promising the American people that they will one day have not only a first lady but a first family.

“And I turned 21 in prison doin’ life without parole

No one could steer me right but Mama tried, Mama tried

Mama tried to raise me better, but her pleading I denied

That leaves only me to blame ‘cause Mama tried.”

Cameras flash and the crowd keeps clapping. Cosmo giggles wildly each time he almost falls and you pull him back to his feet. There is a hand skimming around your waist, a listless powder blue dress your husband chose for you. Aemond replaces Cosmo as your dance partner. Aegon’s 10-year-old daughter Violeta spirits Cosmo away; Aemond reels you in close, one palm pressed into the small of your back, his left hand gripping your right. When you steal a glimpse of Aegon—still strumming, still singing—he doesn’t look so triumphant anymore. His grin is frozen and artificial. His drunk muddy eyes go steely.

“I need you to do something for me,” Aemond begins.

Of course, you once would have said. Anything. “What is it?”

“I want you to cut your hair like Jackie.”

You’re so stunned your feet stop moving. Aemond coaxes you back into the steps. “No.”

“Think about how much more versatile it would be. Jackie is an icon, she’s sophisticated, she’s mature.”

“If you wanted a wife in her thirties, you could have easily found one.”

“Honey—”

“I do everything you ask,” you say, barely more than a whisper. “Everything. I wear what you want me to. I go where you want me to. I spend ten hours a week getting my hair fixed. I keep it up, I keep it presentable. But I’m not chopping it off.”

“You’re never going to be able to wear it down anyway,” Aemond counters, so calm, so rational, like your skull is nothing but incendiary feminine mania. “If I win, you’ll be surrounded by staff and journalists for years. You can’t be photographed with it down, you look about eighteen. And like you live on a park bench in Haight-Ashbury.”

“It’s my hair. I’m keeping it.”

Aemond leans in and says, cold and severe: “You’re my wife, and everything that’s yours belongs to me.” Then he kisses your cheek as cameras click and strobe. “Think about it. Now smile.”

You force yourself to. The crowd applauds as Aegon finishes singing and flees the dancefloor. The DJ puts on Light My Fire by The Doors. You and Aemond leave in opposite directions: he goes to talk to Eunice Kennedy, who is hugging her 3-year-old son Anthony to her chest; you return to your table to drain the last of your Pink Squirrel. You need something stronger. You need to be alone so you can collect yourself.

Now Aegon has shed his guitar and is standing with his back to the wall, smoking a Lucky Strike and talking to some campaign staffer—she looks like a girl, but she’s probably your age—who is gazing up at him worshipfully. She says something that makes him laugh, his head thrown back, his eyes sparkling, and you feel like you’re waking up from your c-section all over again, your belly split open and rearranged, aching, stabbing, nauseous.

“Are you okay?” Ludwika asks, scrutinizing you.

“I’m perfect. I’ll be right back.”

You hurry out of the ballroom, the music fading behind you. You slip into one of the elevators in the lobby and hit the button for the top floor, where Aemond’s entourage has booked every suite. As the door is closing—as only a foot of space remains—Aegon shoves his way into the elevator, startling you. The door shuts behind him and you begin the ascent. Aegon slams the red emergency stop button, and the elevator jolts to a halt.

“What the hell are you doing—?!”

“What pissed you off, huh?” Aegon taunts, stepping closer. You back away from him until you run out of room; not because you want the distance, but because you’re afraid of what you’ll do if it’s gone.

“Nothing. I’m so great, I’ve never been better, can’t you tell?”

He’s so close you can feel the heat rising off his flushed skin, you can see the miles-deep murky blue of his irises, open water, shipwrecks and drowning. “You want all this to be over? You want the women with their big, adoring eyes and their short skirts to disappear? Grow up. Stop acting like a kid. Ask for it.”

“Ask for what?”

“You know.”

If you touch him now, you won’t be able to stop. There’s nowhere for us to go. There’s no way out of this family, this year, this world. “I don’t. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Aegon barks out a sardonic, cutting laugh. “Yeah, you’re definitely 23.”

“I thought you loved girls young enough to be your daughters. Isn’t that what gets you hard?”

“You’re a fucking coward.”

“You’re sweating on me, you pig.”

“You want it so bad,” Aegon whispers as he presses himself against you, his ribs and thighs and hips, and you clutch for the walls of the elevator so you don’t reach for him instead. His left hand is tearing your hair out of its clips and pins so it falls free like you used to wear it; the right is all over your face, your jaw, your chin, your cheeks, touching you ceaselessly, ravenously, a blind man reading chronicles of braille. You’re trying to turn away from him, but he keeps pulling you back in. You’re breathing his rum and nicotine, you’re gasping in low, starved moans. It might be more intimate than kissing, than sex. He’s already felt your body. What he asks for now is your soul. His words are warm and aching as he murmurs through loosed strands of your hair: “Tell me you want it, please, just tell me, just tell me, tell me and it’s yours.”

Your palms land on his bare, damp chest, and Aegon starts unfastening the last buttons of his shirt. Instead, you push him away. Aegon lets you. He surrenders. “I can’t,” you choke out. You hit the red button, and the elevator resumes its rise to the top floor of the hotel.

“I’m really fucked up right now,” he says with sudden realization, swaying, staring down at his feet like he fears he’ll lose track of them.

“I’m aware.”

“I’m sorry. I think…I think I wanted that to happen differently.”

“I can’t trust you when you’re like this,” you say. I feel like I can’t trust anyone. Aegon looks up at you, his glassy eyes large and wounded. When the elevator door opens, you step out and he stays in, riding it back to the lobby.

In the suite you share with Aemond, you turn on the radio and spin the dial until you find a Loretta Lynn song. You go to the minibar cabinet and down two tiny glass bottles of vodka, something that won’t make you smell like too much of a drunk. You’ll have to fix your hair before you go back to the ballroom; you’ll have to change your dress. You’re painted with Aegon’s sweat and smoke. You can’t risk your husband noticing. You slide open the top drawer of the nightstand on your side of the bed and take out the card you keep there, the one that travels with you to each stop on the campaign trail. Loretta Lynn croons from the radio, wronged and wrathful.

“If you don’t wanna go to Fist City

You’d better detour around my town

‘Cause I’ll grab you by the hair of your head

And I’ll lift you off of the ground

I'm not a-sayin’ my baby is a saint, ‘cause he ain’t

And that he won’t cat around with a kitty

I’m here to tell you, gal, to lay off of my man

If you don’t wanna go to Fist City.”

You lie on the floor and peer up at the card in your hands: jubilant cartoon cow, festive party hat. You know exactly what’s written on the inside; it’s etched into your memory like myths passed down through millennia. Nevertheless, you read it again. The original message is still crossed out, and there’s an addendum below it in hasty black ink: I thought this was blank…congrats on the new calf!

You graze your thumbprint across Aegon’s scrawled signature. It’s smudged now. You do this a lot. One day his name might disappear altogether from the stark white parchment, from memory.

You close the card and hug it to your chest like a mother holds a living child.

~~~~~~~~~~

“What’s going on between you and Aegon?”

Alarmed, you meet Aemond’s gaze, two reflections in the vanity mirror. It’s the next morning, and you’re finishing up your makeup. Your dress and jacket are striped with black and white, your jewelry is silver, chains on your wrists and small tasteful hoops in your ears. “Nothing.” There is a lull you have to fill before it becomes suspicious. “He’s been helpful, he’s been…you know. Ever since Mount Sinai.”

Aemond adjusts his cerulean blue tie, studying himself in the mirror. He’s still wearing his leather eyepatch. Putting in his glass eye is the last thing he does before leaving the suite each day. “He was a comfort to you.”

“Well, he was there.”

“Because I told him to be,” Aemond says, resting his hands on the back of your chair. “Someone had to stay at Asteria to keep tabs on things, to let me know what you were up to. Aegon was the most expendable. Mimi and the kids make for good photos, but Aegon…he’s not especially endearing to the public. Those few years as the mayor of Trenton just about ruined him. I’d love to make him the attorney general if I win, but I don’t think the people would stomach it. Maybe if he behaves himself he can have the job for my second term.”

Eight years, you think, unable to fathom it. Eight years in a fishbowl. Eight years lying under Aemond as he tries to get me pregnant with children neither of us can love.

Aemond leans down to touch his lips to the side of your throat. “I’m glad you’re finally friends,” he says. “Aegon’s not all bad. But don’t let him get you in trouble.”

“I wouldn’t.” What did you and Aemond talk about before Ari died? What was this marriage built on? The senate, the presidency, civil rights, poverty, the Space Race, Vietnam, Greek mythology. Everything but each other. Dreams and ideals that would dwarf any mortal, would render them invisible.

“And watch out for any reporters from the Wall Street Journal. They’d kill for Nixon. If they can twist your words, they will.” He gets something from inside his own nightstand: the bloodstained komboskini from when he was shot in Palm Beach. He places it in your right hand, all 100 knots. “Give this to someone today. You know how to do it, you’ve always understood this part. Pick the right person, the right moment. Make sure there are plenty of cameras around.”

“Where am I going? Lunch with the mayor’s wife, that’s this afternoon, isn’t it?”

Aemond nods. “And a few other stops. Then we’re going to the Alamo in San Antonio tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He recoils, reaches for the left half of his face, kneads the scar tissue there as nerve pain radiates through his flesh all the way down to the bone. Once you felt such agonizing pity for him; now all you can think about is the matching scar you wear on your belly, hidden and shameful and a badge of your inadequacies: your body too weak to protect Ari, your mind too pliable to resist being ensnared by the crushing gravity of this man, this family, this life.

“How can I help?” you ask Aemond, because it’s the right thing to do. And randomly, you find yourself remembering the statue of Apollo in Helaena’s garden back at Asteria, the god of music, healing, truth, prophesy.

“You can’t.” Aemond goes to the bathroom to force his glass eye into its socket. You depart for the hotel lobby where Ludwika and Mimi, your companions for the day, are already waiting. Ludwika is wearing a rose pink Chanel skirt suit. Mimi—relatively functional, as she hasn’t been awake long enough to ruin herself yet—is dressed in delicate dove grey.

Alicent, Helaena, and the children are scheduled to tour a local high school and library; Criston, unsurprisingly, is going with them. Aemond, accompanied by Otto, has a series of meetings with local business leaders and politicians. Aegon and Fosco are headed to the Michael E. DeBakey Veterans Affairs Medical Center to promise maimed soldiers that Aemond will end the war that carved out bits of them and filled the voids with screaming nightmares. The limousine you share with Ludwika and Mimi ferries you first to the NASA’s Manned Spacecraft Center. Mimi is entranced by the reflective surface of the helmets, coated with gold to divert blinding sunbeams; in turn, the astronauts are entranced by Ludwika, who leaves lipstick smudges on their cheeks when she kisses them. Next is a tea party hosted by Iola Faye Cure Welch, the mayoress of Houston since 1964 and the mother of five children. And as you nibble daintily at triangle-shaped sandwiches and trudge through small talk about flowers and furniture, you can’t stop smiling. You can’t stop thinking about how ridiculous Aegon would think this is if he was here.

The driver mentions one last stop, then coasts through midafternoon traffic towards the city center. You spend the ride touching up your hair and makeup. Ludwika offers to let you borrow her seduction-red lipstick; you politely decline. You step out of the limo and shield your eyes from the glare of the Texas sun. It takes your vision a moment to adjust, and then you realize where you are. The sign above the main entranceway reads: Houston Methodist Hospital. The air snags in your throat, your lungs are empty. Your hands tremble violently. The earth rocks beneath your white high heels. Mount Sinai is the last hospital you walked into, and you left with your son in a casket so small it could have been mistaken for a shoebox.

“Alright, let’s go,” Ludwika says, linking an arm through yours. Mimi, badly in need of a drink, is looking deflated and edgy. “We are almost done. And I have been promised a medium-rare steak for dinner! Mushrooms and onions too! The Statue of Liberty did not lie. This country is a golden door.”

“I can’t.”

Ludwika stares at you. “What?”

“I can’t, I can’t go in there.”

“What is she talking about?” Ludwika asks Mimi, who shakes her head, mystified.

“I can’t,” you whimper.

They’ve never seen you like this. They don’t know what to do. They listen to you, that is the hierarchy; but it’s too late to change course now. Journalists are approaching in a swarm. Nurses and doctors are gathering by the front door to welcome you.

He knew, you think, suddenly furious. Aemond knew, and he didn’t tell me.

“It will be okay,” Ludwika says, patting your back awkwardly. “We are here with you. Nothing bad will happen.”

“Oh,” Mimi breathes, understanding. She looks at you with sympathy that shimmers on the surface of the opaque, polluted lake of her mind. Then she catches Ludwika’s eye and skims a hand down her own slim midsection. Ari, she mouths, and Ludwika’s face falls.

The doctors and nurses are whistling and applauding; the journalists are snapping photos and scrounging for quotes. You feel your conditioning over the past two years taking over: straight posture, gentle smile, hands clasped demurely together. But you are locked away somewhere underneath.

“Do not worry,” Ludwika tells you softly. “We will talk, we will make it easier for you.” Then she and Mimi begin boisterously shaking hands and thanking people for coming as you make your way through the crowd of journalists and towards the main entrance of the hospital.

People are saying things to you, but you don’t really hear them. You reply with words you won’t remember afterwards. You nod frequently and go wherever you are led. Doctors are explaining new research into placenta previa and c-sections. Nurses are showing you a state-of-the-art NICU for premature infants. Someone is placing a baby in your arms, and you can’t do anything but accept it numbly. You can’t look down at it, you can’t allow yourself to feel the weight of some other woman’s child. You wear your smile like armor and let the photographers capture their snapshots, painting a frame around you, deciding where you live.

Then you are introduced to the parents, women in hospital beds and men perched in chairs beside them, just like the one where Aegon slept at Mount Sinai. They take your hands when you offer them and tell you about their small children, sick children, dying children. One patient just delivered twins. The first did not survive beyond a few hours, but the second is in an incubator and gaining strength. You recall the komboskini stained with Aemond’s blood and take it out of your purse, give it to the suffering mother, watch faith rise in her face like dawn over the Atlantic. But you won’t remember her. You cannot allow yourself to.

Outside as you, Ludwika, and Mimi are headed back to the limousine, the journalists make one last attempt to poach a headline-worthy quote. “Mrs. Targaryen! Mrs. Targaryen!” a young man shouts, clambering to the front of the horde and jabbing a microphone in your face. “I’m from the Houston Chronicle. Can you tell me how the senator feels about the failure of the most recent phase of the Tet Offensive?”

You are in a fog; you don’t feel real, this moment and this city don’t feel real, and so you cannot remember what Aemond would want you to say. “The Vietnam War has claimed too many lives already. We should have never sent our men there to die. But since that is done, the best thing we can do now is end the draft immediately and then withdrawal from the region as soon as the South Vietnamese are able to defend their own territory, which is their responsibility.” The journalist already considers this effort fruitful and begins to retreat, but you have one last point to make. Ludwika and Mimi watch you anxiously. “I lost someone in Vietnam. I met him when I was in college. He had a good heart, and he joined because he thought it was wrong for poor men to have to fight while rich kids got exemptions, and he was killed in action in October of 1965.”

“This was a friend?” the journalist asks, eyes glowing hungrily. Then he adds as an afterthought: “I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

“A boyfriend. Corporal Cameron Marino from Schenectady, New York. People called him Cam.”

A solemn murmur ripples through the crowd. Hats are removed, hands held to chests. “Rest in peace, Cam,” someone says. Maybe they have somebody they care about in Vietnam, a friend or a lover or a brother. You wave goodbye and climb into the limousine. The outpouring swells as you vanish: We love you, Mrs. Targaryen! God bless you, Mrs. Targaryen!

In the lobby of the Texas State Hotel, you tell Ludwika and Mimi not to follow you. They have to listen. After some hesitation, Mimi heads for the bar in the ballroom; Ludwika asks the staff at the front desk if she’ll be able to make a call to Poland with the phone in her room. You take the elevator to the top floor. Fosco is in the hallway, on his way back from one of the vending machines with a Fresca. When he sees your face, his jaw drops.

“Dio mio, what happened?”

“Nothing,” you say, tears biting in your eyes. You pass him, digging your key out of your purse.

“Are you sure—?”

“Fosco, please. I don’t want to talk.”

“Okay,” he says doubtfully. Then he seems to get an idea and strides away with great purpose. You take shelter in your suite, silent and dim; Aemond isn’t back yet. You brace yourself against the locked door and sob into empty, trembling hands, at last hidden away where no one can see you, where no one can be disturbed or disappointed. You know now that none of it was healed—not the loss, not the revelations—but only buried, and now it’s all been unearthed again and the pain shrieks like exposed nerves.

It’s not fair. Ari deserved better, I deserved better.

There’s nothing you can do. Your hands ache to hold someone that no longer exists. You can’t unlearn the truth of what your marriage is.

There are two knocks, quick and rough. “Hey, it’s me.” And there’s such pure intimacy in those words. You know my voice. You know why I’m here. “Open the door.”

“I’m okay, just, just, just leave me alone—”

“Open the door,” Aegon says again. “Or I’ll get security up here to do it for you.”

Swiping the tears from your face, you let him in. He’s dressed in baggy black shorts, nothing on his feet, an unbuttoned stolen green army jacket. You once thought he wore those to play the part of a revolutionary from the comfort of his East Coast seaside mansion. Now you understand it’s because he misses Daeron, because he believes he should have gone to Vietnam instead. There are several dog tags strung around his neck; some of the veterans at the medical center he visited must have gifted them to him.

“What’s wrong?” Aegon’s eyes sweep over you, seeking, horrified. “What did he do?”

You can’t answer, you can’t breathe. You back away from him as more tears spill down your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey, let me help you. Please don’t be upset. Did he say something, did he hurt you?” Aegon reaches out, and as soon as he touches you your knees buckle and you’re on the floor, trying not to wail, trying not to scream, and Aegon is pulling you against his chest—bare skin, borrowed metal—and his hands are on your face and in your hair, and his lips are against your forehead as he murmurs: “Shh, shh, don’t cry. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not.”

“Whatever it is, I can help.”

“I had to go to a hospital and hold babies and I, I, I never even got to touch him, not once, not ever, and I can’t now because he’s gone. He’s locked in some fucking vault, he’s just bones, but he was supposed to be a person, and those other babies are going to get to grow up but he isn’t, and it’s not fair.”

“You’re right,” Aegon agrees softly, still holding you.

“No one else knew him.”

“I did. I was there the whole time.”

“Only because Aemond made you stay.”

“No,” Aegon swears. “I was supposed to spy on you. He never told me to do any of the rest of it. I stayed because I wanted to.”

“You did,” you say, very quietly, weakly, conceding.

“And I’m still here now.”

Your lungs aren’t burning quite so much. Your tears are slowing. You unravel yourself from Aegon, averting your eyes. Now you’re ashamed; you aren’t in the habit of revealing to people how much you’re splintering like cracked glass, fresh fractures every time you think to check the damage. “I’m, um, I’m really sorry.”

“Look, I don’t mean to bring up unpleasant memories, but this is definitely not the most embarrassing thing I’ve seen you do.”

You laugh, only for a few seconds, and Aegon smiles as he mops the tears from your face with the sleeve of his army jacket. Then he turns serious again.

“Can I ask you something? It’s very personal. It’s offensive, honestly. But I have to know.”

“You can ask.”

“Do you want more children?”

More children. Because Ari was real. “Not now. Not with Aemond.”

Aegon nods, suspicions confirmed. “Can you do that sponge thing you told me about?”

“No. I think he’d be able to feel it, he’s…” You gesture vaguely. It’s difficult to say. “He’s big.”

Aegon didn’t want to hear that. He didn’t want to have to think about it. He flinches, just enough that you notice. But as much as he’d like to, he doesn’t change the subject. “What about the pill?”

“No doctor is going to write me a prescription without my husband’s permission. Especially considering who my husband is.”

“I hate this fucking country,” Aegon hisses. “Puritanical goddamn hellscape. Old Testament bullshit.” He drags his fingers through his hair a few times, then pats your cheek like he did before: twice, gently, playfully. “Come on. Let’s go smoke.”

“I can’t do it on the balcony. Someone might get a picture.”

“Okay. No big deal. We’ll go to the roof.”

You stare at him. “The roof?”

“You really think I haven’t already been up there?” He stands and offers you his hand. “You’ll love it. The view is fantastic.”

The view is good, but the grass is better. You know that it makes some people useless, others paranoid, but for you it’s always painted the world a color that is softer, kinder, lighter, more bearable. You and Aegon lie next to each other, smoking and watching twilight fall over Houston like a spell. You’ll have to shower and gulp some Listerine before Aemond gets anywhere near you. It’s interesting; each day you seem to acquire new secrets to keep from him.

Aegon asks: “Where would you be right now if you weren’t Mrs. Targaryen?”

“Probably married to someone worse.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Okay, but let’s say you weren’t. Let’s say you can do whatever you want.” He points up at the lavender sky and acts like he’s moving the emerging glimmers of stars around with his fingertip. “There, I’ve changed your fate. Who would you be?”

You ponder this. “I want to teach math to kids and then spend every summer break getting baked on some beach.”

Aegon cackles. “Hell, sign me up.” He lights a third joint for himself with his tiny chrome Zippo. “Those are the people doing the real work. Teachers, nurses, farmers electricians, plumbers, welders, firemen, therapists, janitors, public defenders. The normal, unglamorous types.”

“You don’t think presidents and senators make a difference?”

“Sure they do. But only like 5% of the job is actually helping people. The rest of it is schmoozing and tea parties and making speeches, because looking and sounding good is better than doing good. They’re addicted to vapid pretenses that make them feel important. You live like that and you forget how to be a human. I mean, look at Nixon. The man was raised as a Quaker, one of the most peaceful religions on earth, and now he’s planning to throw ten or twenty thousand more boys into the great Vietnamese meatgrinder and probably napalm the hell out of Cambodia and Laos while he’s at it to get the communists’ supply lines. The man’s got no idea who he is anymore. I’d feel sorry for him if I wasn’t so terrified he’s gonna start World War III.”

I wonder who Aemond was a few decades ago. “What makes you feel important?”

“Nothing,” Aegon says. “I’m not under any delusions that I matter.”

“I think you matter, old man.”

“Really?”

“A little bit. About this much.” You hold your hand up to show him the infinitesimal space between your thumb and index finger, and Aegon chuckles, his eyes glazed and bloodshot.

“Let’s do it,” he says with sudden, forceful conviction. “If Nixon wins in November, we’ll get out of here. I’ll go back to Yuma to teach on the reservation and you can come with me. You get a math class, I take English, or Music, or both, whatever. We’ll buy a bungalow out in the desert and make s’mores every night and look up at the stars. I’ll show you how to play guitar if you give me algebra lessons.”

You peek over at him, intrigued. “Is that all we’re going to do?”

“Well we’ll fuck, obviously.”

“Oh, obviously.” You giggle; it’s ridiculous, it’s paradisical, it’s insane how good it sounds. But surely that’s only because you’re high. “I don’t know how Mimi would feel about that.”

“She won’t care. She doesn’t want me anymore, hasn’t in years. Sometimes she just forgets that when she’s wasted. Mimi can go to Arizona too. We’ll load up the kids in a van and strap her to the roof.”

Now your voice is somber. “She was supposed to fix you.”

“Yeah,” Aegon says: slow, meditative, guilty. “I think Mimi and I have a few too many of the same demons.”

You roll over, push yourself up on your palms, and crawl to the edge of the rooftop. You prop your elbows on the ledge and gaze out into the city lights, the sky turning from violet to indigo to primordial darkness. Aegon joins you, staring down at the distant aquamarine rectangle of the hotel pool.

He asks: “You think I could make that?”

“No.”

“Should I try?”

“You definitely shouldn’t.”

“A few months ago, you would have pushed me off this roof.”

You shrug. “You’ve proved yourself useful.”

“That’s why you like me now? Because I’m useful?”

“Who said I like you?” you tease, smiling.

“You like me,” Aegon says, grinning and smug, radiant in the silver moonlight and urban incandescence. “You like me so much it scares you. But there’s no need to panic. It’s okay. I know the feeling.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You want to touch him, you want him to touch you, you want to study every arc and angle of him like he’s a marble statue in a garden: too beautiful to be mortal, too fragile to be divine.

~~~~~~~~~~

Three nights later in Nebraska, there is a knock on the door of your hotel suite. The nannies have herded the children off to bed; the adults are unwinding downstairs in the courtyard of the Sheraton Omaha, designed to resemble an Italian garden. There’s a brand new Jacuzzi that you’re looking forward to taking a dip in. You finish pulling on your swimsuit, white and patterned with sunflowers, a one-piece with a flared skirt.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Richard Nixon,” Aegon says through the door. “Naked. Horny. Please love me.”

You laugh and let him in. He’s leaning against the doorframe in Hawaiian swim trunks and nothing else, pink sunburn glowing on his soft chest. He holds up a brown paper bag and shakes it.

“For you.”

“What is it, heroin?” Instead, you open the bag to find small, circular packs of pills. “No way. You did not.”

“That’s enough for six months,” Aegon says, smirking, proud of himself. “I’ll be back again in February. Guess that makes me your dealer, babe. I don’t accept cash, checks, or cards, only sexual favors. You want to get down on your knees, or should I?”

“How did you get these?”

“I told a doctor they’re for one of my whores.”

“Maybe they are.”

You’ve surprised him, you’ve got him thinking about it now. His face flushes a splotchy, charming pink. “So, uh, you coming down to the courtyard?”

“Yeah. Right now. Just let me hide these first. Are there instructions in here…?”

“Mm hmm,” Aegon says, still distracted, studying the entirely unremarkable carpet. You stow the paper bag of birth control pills in the bottom of your bras and panties drawer, then walk with Aegon to take the elevator down to the ground floor. You both notice the bright red emergency stop button and share a glance, smirking, taunting.

In the courtyard, Alicent is struggling to pay attention as Helaena identifies each and every species of plant and explains where in the world it is native to. Fosco is simultaneously teaching Criston how to yo-yo and berating him for not believing the Cubs will end up in the World Series. Fosco has apparently bet $500 on them. Ludwika is stretched out on a lounge chair like a cat and reading a copy of Cosmopolitan. Aemond, wearing his eyepatch and a blue pair of swim trunks, appears to be arguing with Otto over the contents of a newspaper article. Mimi is alone in the Jacuzzi, bubbles rumbling all around her as she slumps against the rim, a frosty Gimlet clutched in one hand.

“Mimi, get out of the Jacuzzi,” you order.

“I’m fine!” she slurs, and you groan, knowing you’re going to have to drag her out.

Aemond is approaching; no, not approaching, raging. “What the hell is wrong with you? What the fuck is this?” He hurls the newspaper at you, the Houston Chronicle. The headline reads: To Mrs. Targaryen, ending the Vietnam War is personal. “Why would you tell somebody that? Other papers are going to start reporting this. You gave them his full name. They’ve found his school, his friends, his gravesite in motherfucking Arlington National Cemetery—”

“You set me up,” you say. “You didn’t tell me about the hospital.”

Aegon takes the newspaper from you and frantically skims the article. “Hey, man,” he tells Aemond as he pieces it together, attempting to deescalate. It’s not a skill you knew he possessed. “She was rattled, she wasn’t thinking clearly. And there’s nothing bad in this article. It makes her sound invested and sympathetic, not…um…whatever you’re thinking.”

“You don’t get it,” Aemond seethes. “Journalists are going to start hounding his friends, his classmates, people who lived in his dorm building. Nixon’s newspapers will publish any gossip they can dig up about what she did when she was in school. Things people saw, things people overheard—”

“What, the fact that she had one boyfriend before she met you? That’s worthy of a nuclear meltdown?! Better prepare for Armageddon, a woman got laid, launch the goddamn warheads!”

“She doesn’t get to have a past! She should understand that, she signed up for this, she knew exactly what was expected of her!”

“And what about your past?” Aegon says, low and searing, and Aemond goes quiet. Their eyes are locked on each other: Aegon defiant, Aemond unnerved. You try to remember if you’ve ever seen that expression on his face before. You don’t think you have. Not even when he was shot and half-blinded. Not even when Ari died.

“What does that mean?” you ask your husband. Still staring at Aegon—tangled in a thorny, silent battle of wills—he doesn’t reply.

There are swift, thudding footsteps. Otto grabs Aegon by his hair, hooks a finger through the small gold hoop in his right ear, and tears it straight through the earlobe. Aegon screams as blood streams down his face, feeling the ravaged fringes of his flesh.

“I told you to take those out,” Otto says. “Now remove the other one before I rip it free, and go get yourself stitched up.”

You do something you’ve never done before, never even thought of. You strike out with both hands and shove Otto so hard he goes staggering backwards, his arms wheeling. The others are yelling and rushing over. Aemond is trying to yank you to him, but he can’t get a grip on your swimsuit. “I will kill you!” you roar at Otto. “I will push you down a staircase, I will slit your fucking throat, don’t you ever touch him!”

Alicent is weeping, appalled, trying to get a look at Aegon’s damaged ear. Criston is helping her, moving Aegon’s bloodied hair out of the way. Fosco links his arms around your waist and drags you out of Aemond’s reach just as he’s getting his fingers beneath a strap of your swimsuit. Helaena is covering her face with her hands and wailing. Ludwika is shrieking at Otto: “What did you do? Don’t give me that, what did you do?!”

You are engulfed with rage, red and irresistible. You’re trying to bolt out of Fosco’s grasp. You want to claw Otto’s eyes out; you want to put a bullet in him. As you struggle, you catch a glimpse of the Jacuzzi. You don’t see Mimi anymore.

“Wait,” you plead, but nobody hears you over the noise. You look desperately at Fosco. “Where’s Mimi?!”

Once he figures out what you’re trying to say, he whirls towards the Jacuzzi. “No!” he bellows, releasing you, and careens across the courtyard. You dash after him. Now the others understand, and they come running too. You see it just before Fosco dives in: there is a shadow at the bottom of the Jacuzzi. When he bursts up though the roiling water, he is carrying Mimi, limp and unconscious and blue.

Everyone is shouting at once. Fosco lays Mimi down on the cobblestones of the courtyard. Criston sends Ludwika to call an ambulance, kneels beside Mimi, checks for a pulse. Then he begins CPR. When he breathes air into her flooded lungs, there is no response, no resurrection.

“No, no, no, she has to be alright!” Aemond says, and everyone knows why. If she’s not, this will consume the headlines for days: no victorious campaigning, no speeches or photos, just a drowned alcoholic with a damning autopsy report.

“Oh my god,” Otto moans, pacing. “This can’t be happening, not this year, not now…”

Alicent seizes your hand and squeezes it until you think it will break. She is reciting prayers in Greek. Helaena is curled up under a butterfly bush, sobbing hysterically. When he realizes this, Otto hurries to comfort her.

“Don’t watch, Helaena. Let’s go inside, I’ll walk with you, there’s nothing more we can do here.”

“Mimi?!” Aegon commands, slapping her hard across the face. “Mimi, come on, wake up! Mimi? Mimi!” She’s still motionless, she’s still blue. Aegon turns to you, blood smeared all over the right side of his face. He’s petrified, he’s in shock. “I think she’s…she’s…”

“She’s gone,” Criston says; and he lifts his palms from her hollow body. The silent sky above is a labyrinth of bad stars.

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

IM RUNNING TO YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

LOVE MAIL INCOMIIIINNGGGGG 🥰🥰

If you receive this, you make somebody happy! send this to ten of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up. if you get one back, even better! (⁠•⁠ө⁠•⁠)⁠♡

ROXIEEEE AHHHHHH

One day I'm gonna figure out how to hug you through the internet and when I do

IT'S. ON.

[nattinatalia]

Jack Harlow x Reader Instagram AU

A/N : This was supposed to be out Mother’s Day weekend 😳 read this first 💐

Liked by yourusername, mamamaggie, claybornharlow, yourbestiename, champagnepapi, and 8,678,355 others

jackharlow Feliz día de las madres to the love of my life. Baby, you make me the happiest person ever. Thank you for our babies, thank you for always going above and beyond for our family, thank you for loving us the way that you do. Thank you for teaching me something new every day. But most importantly, thank you for being you. Life wouldn’t be the same without you by my side. Mia and Ezequiel are the luckiest kids ever to have a super mama like you, te ami mi amor 😘 💜

View all 1,900 comments

yourusername I FUCKING LOVE YOU BABY!!!!!! You really did spoil me so darn much 🥺 & the fact that you not only celebrate me on Latin Mother’s Day, but the gringos mother day as well. Love my babies for life.

jackharlow You deserve to be celebrated every day 😘

yourbestiename Not you sending me voice memos on how to spell certain words in Spanish 😭 we love a dedicated man’s.

jackharlow Thank you for that 🙌🏼

claybornharlow Happy latin Mother’s Day to you sis.

yourusername Thank you hermanito 🫶🏼

•

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, druski, claybornharlow, champagnepapi, and 8,677,355 others

yourusername When you jokingly tell your husband you want a pink Lambo….. Jackman, you really take me by surprise every damn day! It’s not just about the gifts, you know this. I know I said to return this, but don’t blame me if I actually end up keeping it 🙈 I love you, thank you for spoiling me this morning Mi amor.

View all 1,300 comments

jackharlow What my baby wants, my baby gets. Even if you were joking about it!!!!! I love you.

druski damn bitch buy me one next

jackharlow You’re not my wife

druski I’m better, it’s called life partners hoe.

jackharlow Get out of here 🤣🤣

yourbestiename Ohh okay go off white boy, he did the damn thang.

urbanwyatt Let me take it for a spin?

yourusername I’ll think about it 🧐

neelamthadhani He didn’t 🤦🏻‍♀️

yourusername He did 🥰

claybornharlow Spoiling his wife as he should

cozane That’s hard asf. I need to borrow it.

mamamaggie PICK ME UP!!!!!!

yourusername On my way mama 🫶🏼

•

yourusername added to their story

•

Liked by jackharlow, neelamthadhani, yourbestiename, urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, and 7,986,345 others

yourusername My babies spoiled me today and every day. I’m forever thankful for the life I get to live next to my family 🥺💜 happy Mother’s Day to all the beautiful mamas.

View all 2,890 comments

jackharlow You deserve everything and more.

mamamaggie They did amazing huh?

yourusername Yesss🥺 always spoiling me.

mamamaggie Only the best for my daughter!

yourbestiename The cutest little hands 💕and the best floral arrangement you could’ve ever asked for.

yourusername Dude yeahhh, those are the best.

•

Liked by yourusername, mamamaggie, druski, claybornharlow, djdrama, and 6,976,355 others

jackharlow Celebrating you all year long, because you deserve it.

View all 1,700 comments

yourusername Te amo 🥰 🥺😘

druski I hope you went all out for mama Maggie as well.

jackharlow Do you not know me? 🙄

yourusername Of course he did, we can never forget about her.

mamamaggie Druski is always stirring the pot, now I know why Urb and yourbestiename are always trying to fight him

urbanwyatt FINAALLLYYY YOU GET IT

druski I was looking out for you Maggie 😡 no need to attack me now

claybornharlow It’s what you get for always talking shit about her cooking.

•

Liked by jackharlow, badbunnypr, yourbestiename, karolg, urbanwyatt, and 8,577,355 others

yourusername Dinner date with the love of my life ❤️

View all 1,400 comments

druski I’m over the Mother’s Day posts we get it. This is his birthday all over again.

yourusername I’m just going to block your ass.

jackharlow Do it!!!!!

urbanwyatt You’re just hating because you ain’t got a wife to celebrate for or kids

druski & your ass doesn’t either so sit your white ass down

cozane 💀

urbanwyatt I hate you

yourbestiename Cassie said “ohhh Tio Jack Jack handsome.”

jackharlow 🥺

yourusername Awww my babyyygirl, need to see her soon.

•

Liked by jackharlow, cozane, urbanwyatt, yourbestiename, and 7,667,345 others

yourusername That’s a wrap on mothers day weekend. I love my little family 🫶🏼 thank you to my husband for making every year so special and for showering me with so much love every day. I love you ❤️

View all 1,300 comments

jackharlow I love you baby ❤️

mamamaggie The best daughter in law I could’ve asked for. Thank you for loving my boy and for my wonderful grandchildren.

druskispamaccount OKAY SO UNBLOCK ME

urbanwyatt 💀 BRROOO 😭😭😭

druskispamaccount This was probably Jacks doing, y/n loves me way too much to actually block me.

yourusername I told you I was going to block you for being a hater!

claybornharlow No way haha he made a second account just to be back here?

druskispamaccount Sure did because no one is going to stop me from saying what I believe in.

jackharlow What exactly is that?

druskispamaccount That one mother day post is enough. I don’t need to see it every day or for the entire week. I had enough on your birthday.

yourusername This is why you’re blocked…. Again.

neelamthadhani Is he blocked again? Lmaoo

druskithirdaccount KNOCK KNOCK, YOU THOUGHT BITCH!!! Y’all just blocking me because you know I’m right.

jackharlow I know you ain’t calling my wife a bitch……

druskithirdaccount NOOOO I’M CALLING YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS A BITCH FOR INSTIGATING! Y/N LOVES ME SO YA MUST HAVE SAID SOMETHING TO CONVINCE HER TO BLOCK ME!!!

yourbestiename This was a cute post of The Harlows and you guys always have to bring nonsense into the comments.

druskithirdaccount I have to stir the pot with them since you and Urban aren’t feeding into my drama.

yourusername 🤦🏻‍♀️

druskithirdaccount DO NOT BLOCK ME

druskifourthaccount I’LL BE BACK

drukisfifthaccount I’LL ALWAYS FIND A WAY BACK!!!

mamamaggie Sadly, this is true! So many times I’ve tried getting him away!

druskififthaccount Wait hold up. What?

druskififthaccount Okay okay, happy Mother’s Day to the sexiest mom out there! How you got with your husband is beyond me, when you could’ve married me. Hope you had a great weekend, your kids are little savages and they are lucky to have you as their sexy ass mom.

jackharlow I’m gonna beat your ass.

yourusername You play too damn much. Considered yourself unblocked.

druski I’M BACK BABY!!!!!! Y/N BRING THAT ASS OVER HERE!

jackharlow Considered yourself blocked again. Bye.

•

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @arination99 @cmalass @jackharloww @minkookie95 @deannaard @jacksmoviestar @harlowcomehome @fdl305 @httpkoylinnn @xoxokiaraaxoxo @hoodharlow @automaticpeachsong @amethyst09 @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @stefansalvatoresgf @violetdreamsworld @carma-fanficaddict @jasminxts @itsaaliyah2 @itsyagirljaz @harrycanyonmoonn @neon-lights-and-glitter @awhore4moree

[stylespresleyhearted]

For Mccall (@blainesebastian ) the birthday angel today. ❤️🥳🎊💗 adore you dearly!

liked by selenagomez, tomholland, and 33563 others

enews Ladies and gentlemen, today we gather to celebrate the birth of this lovely gal! She first came into our lives after she began publicly dating Austin in 2020 during the filming of Elvis. Since then she has made her way to the hearts of America through her amazing story telling and kindness. Click the link in our bio for a throwback of our love story with the Pisces Queen

view all comments

jillian.mua QUEEN SHE IS 💗🎊 DAS MY BESTIE

coffeegirl you’re ridiculous and I love you 😘 loads of thanks to everyone at E!

liked by austinbutler, coffeegirl, ashleytisdale, and 14325 others

jillian.mua when people ask why elvis set will always be my favorite it is because it’s where I met my bestest friend. thank you for being as weird as me and always having a smile on your face 🎊🥳 and also, much love for cooking up luc for me i adore that child. love ya birthday girl!!! (drinks tonite?)

austinbutler You do know Luci isn’t yours right?

jillian.mua get out of my comment section

bazluhrmann I not only take credit for Austin and her, I take credit for this duo too. Happy birthday beautiful girl!

catherinemartindesigns Darling, you literally had nothing to do with it. 🙄

oliviadejonge happy birthday babe @coffeegirl! when’s our girls night?! 🌹 🎉

florencepugh two pretty best friends 🥰

chrisevans happiest of birthdays to the best leader a cast and crew could ask for 💙🎊

view all comments

abutlernews she’s so famous and loved now 😭 a chris evans birthday shout out!

chrislover12 why didn’t chris post that other picture huh … we all know what picture

austinelvisfan austin it’s your competition again

sydneystan her and austin are literally happily in love and have luci i’m sure austin trusts her

ccgupdates no drama on her birthday please! happy birthday to my comfort person!

liked by coffeegirl, chacecrawford, and 1,346,072 others

iamsebastianstan Fun Fact: she was our coffee girl first (sorry @austinbutler) way back when and now it is a delight to witness her dreams coming true! Happy birthday to you 🎂

dannylewis who the hell doesn’t love her?! she’s so popular !

ccgupdates WE STAY WINNING CCG NATION!!

coffeegirl I seem to remember you always needing Advil and water in the mornings not coffee …. Thank you Seb!!!

daisyedgarjones Happy birthday beautiful! 💗

liked by austinbutler, mccall, and 38256 others

livwholikestv happy birthday lovely girl! have a special day, hope @austinbutler is spoiling you rotten 🎂💗

view all comments

stylespresleyhearted my favorite duo ❤️

ccgupdates these girls have the loveliest friendship 🥺 liv is always so supportive!

liked by austinbutler, chrisevans, robertdowneyjr, and 50234 others

anthonymackie The Big Homie and the best leader on set! Happy birthday ❤️

view all comments

chrisevans But we all know I was the favorite

tomholland Happy birthday to you !!! 🎁🎉

liked by austinbutler, livwholikestv, jillian.mua and 30246 others

stylespresleyhearted happy birthday to the kindest friend a girl could have! stay gorgeous, the world is lucky to have ya 💗🎉

comments are disabled

liked by oliviadejonge, ashleybee, and 1,473,056 others

austinbutler Happy birthday to the best mother, the best wife, my best friend, and my favorite person all rolled into one. Me and Luc are lucky to have you. ❤️

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austinnews OMG HE BEOKE THE INTERNET!!

weloveluci HE IS SO IN LOVE AND HE SHARED A PICTURE OF LUCI !!!

tomhardy Happy birthday from the Hardy family love !

zendaya Happy birthday gorgeous girl 🎊😌

tchalamet I ship it so hard

ashleybee I always wanted a sister and then you came along 💗🎊 can’t wait to celebrate with you! And tell Luci her favorite auntie Ash is en route !

coffeegirl Thank you 😭 you’re the best sister anyone could hope for! Oh gosh commence Luci refusing to sleep until you land

austinbutler For the sake of sleep lets not inform lil dino until Ash arrives

jillian.mua love on her endlessly and spoil her rotten Butler she deserves nothing less

austinbutler Today and everyday.

coffeegirl You big sap. I love you so much.

ashleytisdale Happy birthday tenth removed cousin in law! ❤️ The French family loves you, so grateful you came into my best friend’s life!

liked by austinfan, luciandccgupdates, elvisbutler, and 1689 others

ccgupdates from @stylespresleyhearted instagram story 😭 looks like she and @livwholikestv planned a surprised party while @austinbutler distracted her with a dinner date. (HD photos to come.) I love this group so much !

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elvis4ever did you see jillian’s story?! luci blew out her mommy’s candles 😭

burninlove13 did you watch Ashley’s story first? Austin told Luci “those are for mommy baby” and she said “no thank you” 😭 her famous catch phrase

austinelvisfan was it our birthday today? we were fed

presleyupdates On top of making me love Elvis, Austin also made me fall in love with him, his wife, his child, and their entire friend group. I wish I was in their life so bad.

sharonbleu I pretend I know them. It gives me comfort.

As it was stated in the beginning, HAPPIEST OF HAPPIEST OF HAPPIEST BIRTHDAYS TO THE CREATOR OF OUR BELOVED CCG UNIVERSE, THE KINDEST SOUL, MY WELCOME COMMITTEE TO THE AUSTIN FANDOM, I FEEL LUCKY TO CONSIDER YOU A FRIEND EVEN IF ITS ONLY ONLINE ❤️🎊🎂🎉 You are extremely talented (as if you don’t know already) and bless us with greatness, I can never thank you enough for always replying to my messages and letting me fan girl hard over your writing pieces without a single complaint. You’re an amazing person Mccall and I hope you stick with us (as in this Austin fandom) for a long time because I’d be lost without you. My only regret is that I couldn’t make this post longer, I’m only allowed ten pictures per post. Also a huge thank you and shout to @livwholikestv who never shies away from sharing her ccg love and who allowed me to use her to send you a little birthday message. I love you, appreciate you, may 32 be even better 🥳

[lilreinhvrt]

LILI REINHART UPLOADED A PHOTO

Happy birthday to not only my best friend, my co parent and partner to the most beautiful and sweetest little girl, my muse, my soul mate and my wife. Most importantly though happy birthday to the person that can put a smile on my face even through the roughest of times . Thank you for making me the happiest and today is to celebrate you 💕🥰🎂

❤️1.2m likes 💬80k comments

@zkrvtz

[doinggreat]

HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY AND THE BEST OF THE BEST WISHES TO MY BELOVED WIFE!!💕🫶🏼🫂😘💗💓✨🤩🎉🥳🍾

Here are some Jules pics for you to thirst over during your big day!!

Ily 💕😘

THE KYLIAN ONE TOOK ME OUT LMAOO The fact that it’s smooshed makes it a 100 times funnier 😭😭 Thank you so much dear, i love you and I really appreciate it 🫶🏼

P.s. jules is a great addition 🥰

[littlehippiebitch]

💕💕Everyone go wish my sexy ass wife, @cewchieh00chie the happiest of birthdays please🥳🎂💕🥰💕

Happy birthday baby🥳🎂 two of my fav pictures of you from recently 🥰😘

[euphhorias]

the beginning of the final month of the year but today is an angel’s birthday so réka @yooboobies​ my sweet honey, the happiest of birthdays to u !! if u thought last year’s letter was emotional, then this one’s even more so 💜

where to begin? over a year has passed since we’ve, well i’ve, had the pleasure of meeting u and being allowed into ur space 💖 and it’s something i cherish and hold v v dear to my heart bc coming into a fandom such as k-pop, i never expected to make close friends and then have friends of friends but u were one of the first and the fact we’re still here, months later, is magical ✨ we may have been introduced to each other in a different gc, fond memories there, and then u made ur own, the boongie base, and were kind enough to send me the invite 🥹 to which now is a place i’m so grateful for and couldn’t imagine my life without 🥹 the amount of love that’s spread, the silly shenanigans, the delulu convos, and the loveliest of souls, i do not think myself worthy of being a part of something so delightful but it’s all thanks to u so truly thank u for inviting me into this warm space of light and joy, it cheers up my dark days and makes the good ones even brighter 💕

we may live thousands of miles apart but i can honestly say u are one of the most special people i have met, not just from being in a fandom but life in general 🫶🏻 i wish u could see urself how i see u, how so many people see u, a beautiful heartwarming darling who would give the shirt off her back if it would help someone else, ur that kind of selfless person and it’s so hard and rare to find, ur like a diamond in the ruff and deserved to be loved upon as such 💎 not to mention ur INSANE talent !! whether it be sketching or gifmaking, creating sims or teaching lil kids, u should give urself way more credit darling, oh how i would love to have a sliver of how talented u are, both envious and completely in awe of u ajksjksjds 🥰 and another bonding factor: being cat moms and our fur babies looking like precious twins it melts my heart and simply hearing from u, seeing ur gorgeous cute sexy selfies, are blessing themselves and i consider myself v fortunate to be in ur company almost daily ❤️‍🔥

i wish i could do more than post just a silly lil letter, for it’s only a fraction of the love and adoration i have for u 😭 but until we meet (🤞🏻🤞🏻), it’ll have to do tho be forewarned, an in-person celebration will be far more than simply words from me, as u deserve to be showered with gifts and endless amounts of love, so that’ll be crammed in more and more as the years and birthdays go by 🥳 to draw this to a close, i just want to say how thankful i am for being a part of ur life and u in mine, it’s crazy to think there was a time we didn’t know each other but i’m so glad we’re in THIS time when we DO know each other and i count u as a wife, best friend and drinking buddy all in one 🥂 never change, never stop being urself and thank u for bringing the boongie base wives together in the most wonderful polyamorous relationship ever 🥺 never stop loving yoongi, hoseok, sope, bts, for u have one of the biggest hearts i’ve ever known, and please remember how cherished and treasured u are, by all of us 🤍 also, have fun seeing louis next year !! ur going to have the most amazing time !! and of course, enjoy ur special day, it’s all about u my girl sweet loml, stay safe and celebrate this beautiful time 🫰🏻 I LOVE U SO MUCH ENDLESSLY AND ALWAYS 😍🎂👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🎉💛 

[bookstantrash]

A/N: Happy birthday to the lovely, amazing and extremely talented @thewayshedreamed !!! Your Nessian fic “This Time” was the very first Nessian fic I read on tumblr, and I have been obsessed with your writing since then!! I’m glad I met you and am able to call you my friend 🥰💜

Given that this is the Nessian Month, I wrote a one shot of their first date, prompt courtesy of @illyrianet ’s amazing list. Enjoy! ✨

Romance you

“Nes? Are you awake?” Cassian asked, his mate’s answer a mumbled ‘yes’.

He chuckled, kissing Nesta tenderly behind her ear. They were cuddling after a long love making session, Cassian holding Nesta tight against his chest, his thumb slowly drawing patterns on her arm.

“I have been thinking of something”

“Should I be concerned?” she inquired.

“Very funny sweetheart” he nipped at her pointy ear, making Nesta yelp “I was thinking that I want to take you out on a date”

That woke Nesta up.

“A date?” she turned around in his arms, looking at him and furrowing her eyebrows in confusion “Cass, you do know we've been mated for a month now right?”

“How could I forget the happiest day of my life, wife?”

“Forgive me, husband. I thought your old age was catching up to you” that made Cassian roar in laughter, Nesta smiling at him.

It had been a beautiful ceremony and Cassian had teared up when he saw Nesta entering the temple and walking towards him. He had always found her breathtaking, but she had never been more beautiful when one month ago they were officially mated and married.

Cassian knew that deep down she would always miss being human, so he had wanted to have a ceremony that combined both Nesta’s: the human and fae.

And at the end of the ceremony, when the priest declared them not only mates but husband and wife — the black ribbon tied around their wrists and rings proof of it — Cassian was sure he had done the right thing, the image of Nesta wearing a white dress and smiling the most he had ever seen making the mate bond glow even brighter.

“I know we are already mated and married but we did everything backwards. I did not properly court you”

“Not that I regret it!” Cassian was quick to add “I just want to give you the best and cherish you, Nes. And, since we are not even able to go away for a while on a honeymoon given the messy situation with Koshien and the Autumn Court, I thought doing our very belated first date was the most sensible option.”

Nesta could only blink at Cassian in surprise. He had been going over such things all this time? It always amazed her how her mate, General Commander of the Night Court and Illyrian Armies, Lord of Bloodshed and legendary warrior, could be such a thoughtful and sweet male.

“Please say something, Nes. If it is a stupid idea or—” she shut his nervous blaberring with a kiss.

“I love it. It’s a wonderful idea.”

The boyish smile Cassian gave her was enough to make Nesta kiss him again, sleep all but forgotten as he rolled them over, deepening the kiss.

~•~

Cassian tried to calm his nerves as he knocked on the door.

Wanting to make it very first date like — and also to avoid getting distracted by other things — they would get ready in separate rooms. They shared Nesta’s old room, given that the view was one of the best and did not have hidden weapons all over it like his. So Cassian had gotten ready at his old room while Nesta did the same on theirs, and afterwards he would take them down to Velaris.

He had made sure to check the reservations thrice and go over his check list of all the other things he had prepared in advance.

This day had to be perfect no matter what.

“Come in!” Nesta shouted behind the door “I am almost ready”

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door, finding his mate sitting at her vanity putting on her earrings.

Cassian had to keep himself in check not to undress her right then and there and ruin his careful planning.

His wife was too beautiful for his poor nerves.

“Nes… sweetheart you look absolutely incredible” he said, taking her in as she walked his way, her mahogany dress fitting her like a glove, the ruby on her wedding band seeming to spark. But what truly killed him was the fact that her hair was down, a section of it pinned back with silver combs that gave a free view of her lovely face.

“Stop looking at me like that or we won’t be leaving this room” Nesta remarked, arching an eyebrow “You are drooling, Cassian.”

“You can’t blame me. It’s your fault for being so damn perfect” he declared kissing her cheek, not wanting to suffer her wrath were he to ruin her lipstick.

“You don’t look bad yourself” she answered, running her hands over his chest, when all she wanted was to rip it apart.

Cassian had foregone his leathers for once, wearing a loose dark blue shirt with the first buttons open and black pants. The perfect man bun also made Nesta thank the Mother for her Mind-Stilling exercises.

“Are you going to tell me where we are going?”

“If I told you it would not be surprise Nes” he said as they walked the her balcony “But I promise you will like it”

“Lead the way then, bat” Nesta said as he gathered her in his arms, taking flight.

Their first stop was at a restaurant near the Sidra famous for its live music. Cassian had gotten them a table with a view to the river. He was not one to go to fancy restaurants, only getting less nervous when he saw Nesta’s face lighting up upon hearing the musicians. He’d make sure to pay attention to her favourite pieces and come back with her Symphonia later and ask the musicians to play them again.

They took their time eating, and he went as far as eating a big slice of cake after much insistence from Nesta.

“You can burn the calories during our training tomorrow” his mate said as she fed him.

“I would rather burn them by other means” he winked at her, making Nesta roll her eyes.

“Perverted bat”

After paying the bill, Cassian took Nesta to her favourite bookshop in the city. They had some time to kill before the next thing he had planned and she had yet to spend her sisters’ generous Solstice gift.

She was quick to leave him aside as she browsed the shelfs, his only job to hold her numerous books.

“Nes, dear we have to go or else we will be late” Cassian informed behind her pile of books.

“Five more minutes Cass” she pleaded.

Five minutes became fifteen, and they were almost left outside the theatre, arriving just a minute before the doors were closed.

Cassian had to call in a few favours, but he managed to get a privileged view of the stage.

“Which play are they presenting?” Nesta whispered as they settled down, not having been able to look through the pamphlet yet.

“You will see” was all he answered.

He remained looking at his mate beside him all the time as the curtains rose, watching the exact moment she opened her mouth in surprise as the first dancer stepped on the stage.

Because they were not watching your usual play. No, Cassian had gotten them tickets to the opening performance of a famous Dawn Court ballet company who was travelling all over Prythian. He had had to call in a few favours to get them the tickets, but it was worth it.

Nesta didn’t even dare to blink while she watched them dance, not wanting to miss a single thing. Cassian swore he saw her crying a little during a very emotional part but he knew she would deny it forever.

“This was perfect” Nesta sighed as they left the theatre, walking holding hands.

“I am glad you enjoyed your day, Nes” Cassian said, feeling love and gratitude flowing through the bond “I wanted to make this a perfect first date”

Nesta smiled softly at him, squeezing his hand.

“You could have taken me to Oorid to hunt down evil creatures and it would still have been a great date. I just want you. Any time we spend together is precious to me” she nudged him with her shoulder “However, I do not object to delicious cake or special tickets to see a show.”

“I will keep that in mind, wife”

“I expected nothing less from you, husband”

•

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Reblogs are always welcomed!

[unvalley]

BABYYYY, may I request random prompt 29? Love you 🥰🥰🥰

Happy birthday, my love @eme-eleff 💓💓💓

this is decitated to u, and u only on ur very special day. i love u so freaking much 🥰

___

Pairing: Gray Fullbuster x Juvia Lockser

Genre: Fluff af

Prompt: ”Who knew my wife is more badass than me?”

___

It was a chilly November night in Magnolia. A few moments earlier, there had been a snowstorm but the weather had eventually calmed down and now snowflakes were settling, covering the city white. 

In Magnolia’s hospital, we find a certain power couple from Fairy Tail in one of the only rooms in the building that were still lit at the late hour. 

Juvia was sitting up on the bed while her beloved husband, Gray, was sitting on an armchair beside her. The new parents could not stop admiring their tiny newborn baby that was peacefully sleeping in his mother’s arms. 

‘’Juvia never thought in a million years that she would love someone more than you, Gray-Sama’’ Juvia whispered, so she wouldn’t wake up their sleeping newborn. Her big eyes never left their son’s adorable face, as she was smiling like she had never before. Not even her husband, who always made her feel like the happiest girl in the world, had ever made the blunette beam so much of joy. 

‘’I really can’t blame you,’’ Gray replied, not tearing his eyes of the little one. ‘’I would use you as a human shield to protect our baby’’ 

If the scenario would be different, Juvia would most likely have given her husband a playful smack on his arm, for a comment like that but she didn’t want to wake up their son. Besides, she didn’t feel insulted by it because she knew, if it ever came down to it, she would do the exact same thing.

They would both do whatever it took to keep their Storm safe. 

‘’But I have to give it to you, babe. You went through so many months, that felt like a lifetime, carrying our baby while going through so much pain and all sorts of other horrible symptoms. ”Who knew my is was more badass than me?’’

‘’Oh please, Gray-Sama,’’ She rolled her eyes at him before continuing. ‘’Juvia already knew that and so did you’’ And there was no point for Gray to argue with her because she was right. She always was. 

After some more time, the whole Fullbuster family, now including three members, was fast asleep.

___

this is super messy and bad but i hope u still like it 🥺💓

[yoohyeon]

for the mountain asks ♡

mushroom: list unique things you like about yourself

woods: where do you feel at peace?

yarn: what are your most enjoyable hobbies?

snow: what is your favorite time of year and why?

(btw it's ess from @fairyreaper22345) ♡

mushroom: list unique things you like about yourself

There’s not a lot of things I like about myself jfbsjdjs probably my imagination ? Even tho sometimes I have too much it’s always making my life fun ! But honestly nothing unique…. I just really like how weird I am even tho it can be annoying at time fksbdjjd

woods: where do you feel at peace?

Oh…at my uncle’s cabin ! But only if it’s wife is not here cause she’s so annoying and being around her is super stressful and all 😭 but when we go only my parents and I (and my brother) it’s so calm and fun 🥰 I spend 80% of my time reading it relaxing !

yarn: what are your most enjoyable hobbies?

Writing for sure even tho it’s hard and I’m not that good and drawing I’m even worst at it but I love it 💞

snow: what is your favorite time of year and why?

Christmas + New year season !!! I feel so much happiness buying and wrapping gifts for my love ones and spending time with my family, I’m the happiest in December and it’s my dad birthday on the 20th so 3 reason to be happy !

Mountain asks

[kagejima]

RAE RAE RAE!!! I did not know it’s your birthday omg 😭😭😭

I wish you the happiest of birthdays 💕💕💕 and I’m thankful that you’re such a kind, sweet and understanding moot! And I’m glad that we’re fellow Nanami simps too hehe ♥️

I might have an Wakatoshi oneshot coming at the end of the month so that’s kinda my birthday present to you, hope you like it 💛 mwahhhh 💋

Ahhhh thank you so much Aisha!! 🥺🤧 ily so much, you're always so sweet and lovely, giving you all the lil cheek kisses right now 😚

hehehe me too!!! and fellow jjba enthusiasts as well! every time i see jjba stuff on my dash especially jotaro, im like "😲 gotta tag jotaro's wife!!" 😁

ooooooooo oh no im scared but excited for me if its wakatoshi bc your nanami stuff already made me yell and do handstands and giggle like a lil school girl 🤸🏻‍♀️🤸🏻‍♀️ lmaooo! but thank you bb i cant wait to see it 🥰

[seeyayon]

#latepost I was saving this photo cause it's new, meaning, we meant most recently and finally had a new photo together, for your Birthday Ppreciation post. 🤣 ang haba ng explanation, pero yeah, I just want a photo to accompany my greeting. Anyways, Happiest of Birthdays to you my dear friend @maricellevalerio 🎂💐🥳 We don't spend time a lot, no trips together, just inserting a couple of hours on a weekend whenever possible, over the years, thisbjas become the tradition, and we're just fine with it, the bridge didn't break, i think it's become even stronger. 🥰 I wish you'll have all your heart's deepest desires come true, ypu deserve that and more, cause you've been the best grandaughter, daughter, sister, wife, mom and friend. I hope ypu know that. 😊 have a blast today, see you in ypur next homecoming. 💜 https://www.instagram.com/p/Cd4g86XpnZlhq7GNyFsrtcKZVgxPPiY3TCna8k0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[nervetoadoreyou]

YES PURPLE AND THE LAKES SUPREMACY!!!! and I loooove nothing new/better man!! you have excellent taste my friend!! how are you on this fine sunday? what's one thing you're looking forward to the most this week? also have you finished your christmas shopping yet? oh oh and what is your favorite christmas movie? hope you have a wonderful day!!!! - 🌙

Aww thank you 🥰 today is going good, working but it isn't that bad today. Looking forward to Wednesday for getting dinner with my friend for my birthday. I didn't do much shopping this year but yes I think I'm pretty much done lol. How The Grinch Stole Christmas is definitely my favorite Christmas movie, both the cartoon and the Jim Carey one. One of my new faves is Happiest Season cause Kristen Stewart is my wife and Aubrey Plaza is 😍 and then I watched Love Hard with my girl Nina Dobrev and that was so cute! You have a fave Christmas movie?