#i have fully Thought About the entire pregnancy but i suck at writing so if anyone else wants to do it ��🙏

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

omega cheerleader steve in his senior year of high school, walking up to the hidden table in the woods in his game day cheer outfit, looking for alpha eddie munson, local dealer. he asks for some weed, and eddie's like okay, thirty bucks. and steve's like oh no 😔 that's so much 🥺 i don't know if i can afford that 😏 but eddie's just sitting there like ???? aren't you rich???

and steve just. blinks at him for a second. tries again. 'oh man, i forgot my wallet, is there any other way i can pay you?' he says, biting his lip and looking up at eddie through his lashes in that way he KNOWS makes all the alphas go wild

'uh. no. come back when you have money man what are you talking about'

so steve sighs and completely drops the act like goddamn it munson im trying to get you to fuck me. and eddie's like oh. OH! why didn't you just ask then??? and steve blushes and looks away, mutters something about it not being what 'good omegas' do, and how he's so horny and eddie smells so fucking good with his chains and his rings and his tattoos steve's losing it

so they end up making out in the woods by the school, steve grinding down on eddie's lap with eddie's hand up his cheer skirt, both so far gone with lust that when they realise neither of them has a condom, steve just shrugs, tells eddie to pull out before he cums, because hawkins high values abstinence only sex education regardless of whether or not that works. so eddie bends steve over the table and slides in, and he gets so caught up in steve's pussy clenching around him when steve cums that he almost doesn't pull out in time, cum splashing against steve's still fluttering hole and absolutely drenching his entire pussy. but that's fine, he's pretty sure none of it actually got IN there, so they're good, right?

and they hook up another couple times after that, WITH a condom this time now that they know it's going to happen, and they enjoy each other's company so much that steve invites eddie to share his heat with him in a couple weeks. except. when the time comes, steve... isn't actually going into heat. which is fine, maybe it's just late. except, eddie points out that he's been pretty nauseous the past week or so, won't kiss him if eddie's been drinking coffee because he says the smell makes him wanna throw up. and now steve's panicking.

eddie calms him down, says there's no use freaking out if they don't know for sure. gets him a glass of water and a sandwich and tells him to finish them both while eddie runs to the nearest pharmacy to pick up a pregnancy test. the cashier glares at him when he checks out, severely judging the metalhead alpha buying like five male-omega pregnancy tests, but eddie barely even notices, head full of images of steve round with his pup, which yeah, he feels bad about given that steve is clearly freaking out. and he's ALSO kind of freaking out, because they're still in high school and he's a trailer trash drug dealer and absolutely not father material. but also. he likes steve so much. and thinking about being with him, having kids with him. it sounds so nice.

when he gets back to steve's house, steve has finished the glass of water but barely touched the sandwich. eddie hands the tests to him, reads the instructions out loud, stays in the bathroom while steve pees on the stick because the omega looked so lost and scared when eddie tried to give him some privacy. eddie distracts him by telling him about his latest campaign while they wait for the test to do its thing, and while steve is busy laughing about the tantrum gareth had thrown after the party spent two real life hours trying to open a door only to find out it wasn't locked in the first place, eddie quickly flips over the test.

there's two little pink lines. they're going to have a baby.

[swamp-spirit]

So You’re in Effexor/Venlafaxine Withdrawal

Had some provider change bullshit and went from 225 mg a day for years to cold turkey for five days. Effexor’s pretty famous for being The Fucking Worst withdrawal wise, but it honestly works great for me. I’m a dumbass with ADHD, so I often end up without a day or two, but HOO BOY five days was a lot.

Unfortunately, most withdrawal advice I’ve found it targeted at people who are intentionally going off Effexor and focused on working with a doctor and weening slowly, not super relevant to me. I wanted to write up what I’ve learned to help other people who might be going through the withdrawal and not have access to Effexor or a doctor. None of this magically fixes it, it’s just making the shit timeframe until you can get your meds a bit less shit.

Note, this is pretty much all personal experience, and there’s not much research. This is not formal medical advice, and if you can talk to a professional, please do. Also note that I have a number of side conditions that may influence my experience. (Withdrawal is actually something that can be so personal.)

Know the Emergency Signs I’m not gonna fully list symptoms here, plenty of people have done that, but know which symptoms are normal ‘yup this sucks‘ symptoms and which are ‘oh shit‘ symptoms.  If you’re in this situation, I imagine the odds are good money is part of the problem, but know Urgent Care and the ER will usually give you an emergency prescription, so if you feel like things are getting that bad anyways, it’s good to go before it gets worse.

Don’t Drive I can’t drive ever, but pls don’t do this in withdrawal. I know you might have obligations, and I know calling a ride is expensive, but getting in a car crash is more expensive.

Try Not to Be Alone If you can, ask a friend over, go to a family members house, whatever you can. A lot of the emergency signs (delirium, seizures, losing consciousness) mean you can’t seek care for yourself. It’s good to have somebody around who knows what to look for. The biggest danger to people in Effexor withdrawal tends to be the mental symptoms. If it’s safe, let your loved ones know that you’re at higher risk for self harm and suicidal thoughts, and what you’d like them to do if  they’re worried. Most situations aren’t going to be that bad. Usually, it just sucks, but like... it’s good to have somebody around who can bring you soup and listen to you feel sorry for yourself. Treat it like having the flu, and know you deserve the same care as anyone else in that situation. (Yes, even if it’s ‘your fault’ you ran out of meds. If punishing yourself for not thinking ahead/missing an insurance detail/forgetting something worked, I’d never miss a dose.)

Chill Out Your Nervous System A lot of the symptoms (brain zaps and shivers esp) are your nervous system going out of control, so doing calming techniques can actually help. Getting hugs, bundling up somewhere cozy, and doing deep breathing is legit medical treatment for soothing out a haywire system.

Track When In the Day It’s Worst Being sick, unfortunately, does not always mean you don’t have shit to do. I realized pretty quickly my shakes were a ton worse at night, so, even though I didn’t want to do much during the morning, if it had to get done, that’s when it was going to happen. It can also be good just so, when you’re symptoms are at their worst, you can remember that it won’t be like this the entire time until you get meds.

Indulge Cravings When your body’s doing heavy lifting, it starts yelling for whatever weird shit it thinks might help. That’s what weird pregnancy cravings are, and that’s what you need now. Save the diet for later, get a little lax on the grocery budget, and have zero shame about replacing dinner with pickle juice mixed with gatoraid or whatever. If you deal with nausea, try to stick to small meals of whatever seems doable. My personal buddy was Morningstar Veggie sausages since they’re high protein without being too dense or fatty.

Medicine Cabinet Helpers Dangerous layman advice!!! I saw medical pages advise it but still be careful!!! That said, holy shit, those dramamine lemon ginger chews are my best friends now, followed shortly by melatonin gummies and advil.

Room Temp Baths Hot baths can be a lot on an overtaxed nervous system, but I found pleasantly warm water was very pleasant.

Sick Day Entertainment When electronics are overwhelming, books are hard, you can’t get out of bed, and you desperately need a distraction, it’s good to have things you can handle. Some ideas -Calling somebody -Audiobooks/podcasts -Coloring Honestly, more suggestions here would be great. My go to was podcasts, but I know a lot of people, trying to track a podcast in withdrawal sounds like hell.

Anyway, cheers to making it out the other side, because you will. In the meantime, spoil the shit out of yourself.

[aotopmha]

anime only aot fan since 2013 here 🙋🏻 when i saw the ending, i thought, "people hated this so much? this?" it was the only fitting ending i could think of for the series. and i'm glad the reaction for the anime ending was overall very positive. feels like a very heartwarming closure for both the series and the fandom. i think aot will always be my most favorite piece of fiction. but if you could change things about the ending, what would these changes be?

Hey, got into it through the anime as well, but pretty much almost immediately caught up with the manga.

I think about at ep 7/8 airing?

2013 was a time. Anyone remember all of the op 1 memes?

As for changes to the ending, remove the entire Historia pregnancy subplot all the way through the ending.

It's pointless and destroys one of the best characters in the story.

Make her a part of the action just like everyone else, just like what her character arc was about �� becoming her own person and putting behind her passive facade.

I think her friendship with Eren was one of the best parts of the Uprising arc.

And this reversion of her character isn't even fully explained.

She goes against the status quo by giving in to the status quo?

In hindsight, especially, pretty much everything to do with her serves no purpose.

If her royal blood is an issue to the plot, I can think of many other ways of restricting her than pushing a pregnancy on her and essentially removing her voice.

Make the pregnancy fake to just trick the incompetent MP and have her join for the final battle at the point where Shadis catches up with the group, for example. That's it.

Her smacking Eren in the cave was great.

A lot of people think Eren's negative character arc isn't done well enough, but to me her reverting to a passive doll is the most puzzling bit of writing.

The most I get out of it is the horror of women being denied their agency in an awful world and a metaphor for the birth of a new world and for all of the work and substance Historia got as a character, that's an awful payoff.

It's so puzzling. Literally everyone else were allowed to keep their character.

That's the one part of the final arc I think 100% sucks.

OG Ymir got a more complete arc than Historia did and she was there for two chapters, not a large swathe of the series.

Annie, Pieck, Gabi, Mikasa. All of the main character girls got to be awesome during the finale and got complete stories.

It's so jarring because I think the series is 90% of the time super solid with character writing.

To me just...

??????

Thank you for the ask!

[possibly-baby-g]

Okay,

Throwaway account because there's no way I'm letting this woman (my surrogate mother) find my tumblr. This was messaged to me 3x last night by friends who know my story (I'm pretty open about the abuse my surrogate mother did to me in my early childhood).

I think there's a 92.8% chance I'm baby G here. I'm G (first initial), my parents first initials are N & M, and I hope to god this didn't happen 2x.

No, this is not a fandom thing (unless there's a fandom that literally has a plot that's basically my life) & No, I did not write this, I texted my mom (M in this story) to see if there's any chance that she did and I showed it to my dad (N) and he didn't either. I am sitting here this morning, stunned.

Okay, for starters, I know the author of this is coming across as unsympathetic, but I promise you (if this is her), that is just the way she is. She sucks. And, if this is my story, this is her trying to come across as sympathetic, because the actual story, and what follows it, is so, so much worse. Also, 0f could easily just be her not knowing how to use aita, since she's 54-years-old this year.

If this is my surrogate mother, this entire situation happened in 1993-1995, in California. I was born in a catholic hospital in 1994, there were no laws or policies on the books yet regarding surrogate pregnancies. In California, in 1994, there was no precedent to change maternity on a birth certificate whatsoever. IVF had only become a thing less than 10 years ago when all this happened and laws hadn't caught up yet.

Also, the 'I kissed him at one point' thing is the understatement of the century. It was a full on sexual assault in a bathtub. The week my mom got on a plane to Spain, L (my surrogate mother), 7 months pregnant with me, bought a copy of the Kama Sutra and showed it to my dad, telling him with no warning or further explanation that she wanted to try everything in the book with him. She just started telling people she was his girlfriend and I was their baby.

She also started calling him her 'G*psy lover,' which is a slur she has no right to reclaim. We're Romami (sinti, roma and romanical for anyone who cares), she's not. So she's also racist.

A few days later, she asked my dad to bring her a glass of water while she was taking a bath. My dad came in with his hand over his eyes and tried to give her her drink, and she full on stuck her mouth on his and tried to drag him, fully clothed, into the bathtub with her. God knows what would have happened if my grandmother hadn't heard splashing and him screaming and come in to find out what the hell was going on.

The birth certificate thing wasn't discovered until about 6 weeks after I was born. As many people responding guessed, this was completely and utterly ineffective in causing her to get custody of me. My dad did have to sue for custody, but was granted full legal custody of me with her getting 'supervised visitation' 2x every two weeks. However, we're POC, my real mom (M) is not a US citizen, L's dad is a high powered lawyer, so he was able to intimidate my dad into L having complete physical custody of me 2 weekends a month until I was 5, and a friend of hers do the supervision (and her friends never actually were there to supervise, they just showed up for the custody transfer and then left and lied about being there the whole weekend) which sucked because she was incredibly abusive.

(L did things like lock me in a dark room for a 'timeout' as a punishment, and her husband would drag me off of cowering on the floor to 'look him in the eyes' if he thought I was lying. Nothing too bad, just a lot of telling me I was a bad seed, and punishing me excessively, nothing too scandalous or even probably illegal, but she definitely did treat me like shit. I also wasn't a bad kid, my real parents almost never to punish me at all, I was well behaved.)

This finally came to a head when I was supposed to see my mom on a vacation outside of the US when I was 5 and L refused. Then my grandfather (M's dad) got a friend who is a US lawyer to look over the custody agreement and revealed that in fact, L had no rights whatsoever. I never stayed the night with her again, I got to meet and hug my real mom for the first time in a seafood restaurant in Tijuana and then hang with her for 2 weeks looking at Mayan Pyramids, and I was free and it was glorious.

What the birth certificate thing did do was screw up my life in ways that you wouldn't expect. She's STILL on my brith certificate and I've been told by lawyers as recently as 2021 that there's no way to get her off it without her signing away parental rights like in an adoption (I hate this woman and want her off my birth certificate). I have considered just having my mom adopt me as an adult adoption, since L doesn't have to sign anything for that.

(the main reason I want her off my birth certificate is, legal/assumed biological relatives always get priority in custody and, after what she did to me, I'm afraid if in 20 years I have kids and I die she'll try to get custody of my future kids if she's still on my birth certificate, and I want that to go to my mom or a non-relative of my choice)

L had to sign papers when I got my childhood passport. When I was about 3, L got married and changed her name, and her ID no longer says she's the name on my birth certificate, as a result of this I couldn't get a new passport between the ages of 7 & 18, because both parents need to sign paperwork for minor to get a passport and my second legal parent didn't exist anymore (L could have tracked down paperwork regarding her name change, but she's a bad person and she refused).

I also couldn't get a legal ID, so no drivers licence, no passport, no anything, until I was in college because you need a 3 forms of ID from document list B to get a real ID and all of my secondary documentation said I was 'G N (Dad's last name)-(Mom's last name)', but my birth certificate said I was G N (Dad's last name)-(L's maiden name). Finally, I could get a legal ID when my college documentation matched my SSC and other secondary ID documentation.

My mom (M) is from the EU, specifically Spain, from Euskal Herria (my mom is also not Romani, she's Basque, just for clarification). My mom had a criminal record from when she was a kid in her 20s back in Spain (nothing too big or bad, just the kind of bullshit that US immigration doesn't like), she was here on a tourist visa and, being an EU citizen, this wasn't a big deal, but when she applied for permanent resident status, her criminal record was suddenly a problem, and this was the cause of her US visa issues.

Am I the asshole for putting my name on my surrogate baby’s birth certificate because I wanted to keep the baby I carried and the man who got me pregnant from leaving the country?

Some background, I (26f) have secondary infertility (egg issues) and have had several miscarriages due to this, but I have no primary infertility (uterus issues). Earlier this year, I was accepted into a university about 500 miles away from where I was living, I am an older college student, so a lot of financial aid options weren’t available to me, so I decided I would live with my boyfriend (28m).

Fast forward, I’m a 25-year-old freshman and I m living with my boyfriend. I get big into the local art and poetry scene. Among other friends, I meet a nice older couple (36f and 37m)-let’s call them N&M, in a committed relationship, but not married, who are looking into hiring a surrogate because she had a hysterectomy some years ago. I’ve always wanted to carry a baby to term, but have never been able to due to my fertility issues, so I immediately volunteer.

Papers are signed, second ivf cycle takes and I’m pregnant with a baby girl (let’s call her G). My boyfriend decides that this (being in a relationship with someone pregnant with someone else’s baby) isn’t what he signed up for and we break up. I don’t have anywhere to live, so N & M offer to let me move in with them, so me and the (unborn) baby have a place to live.

About halfway through the pregnancy, M has a visa issue and has to go back to her home country for a few months, leaving me alone with N.

M’s visa issues turn out to be more serious than she thought and their plans change. During this time, I also developed some romantic feelings for N (I am carrying his baby, after all), and I kissed him at one point and let him know I’d be open to expanding our relationship and stepping in as a mom for G, since M had effectively been deported. (They were never married, I’m carrying his baby).

He kinda freaked out. This is also when their plans change, N is going to move to M’s home country with the baby as soon as she’s born and I start to panic because at this point, I’m carrying her, this is my baby, more than she’s M’s. I mean, people donate eggs all the time, but I’m carrying this baby and M isn’t even in the country, so I feel like at this point I’m more of a mom to her as M is. so (and this is where I think some of you might think I’m an asshole) I took the surrogacy papers from their important documents drawer. I didn’t know if I would do anything yet, I just wanted to have it so N couldn’t leave the country with my baby.

When the baby’s born (0f), it was supposed to be a home birth, we had a plan and N had documents all filled out and ready to submit that had M listed as her mom, and I was just going to go along with it, but there ended up being some medical complications and it turned into an emergency ambulance ride and hospital birth.

G is born with some pretty significant health issues due to the traumatic birth and spends most of the next week in the neonatal icu. N is with her, the hospital asks me to fill out her birth certificate and I put myself on it as her mom since M wasn’t even in the country and I want custody of this baby and now, without a dna test from M, which isn’t going to happen because she was deported, even if he doesn’t want to be with me, N can’t leave the country without fighting me for custody.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

PLEASEE we need a part 2 of Draco arranged marriage smut with preg readerr😩❕

mixed with this request: hey, can i request a combo of smut, angst, fluff draco x fem reader where she’s his wife, but draco’s been very busy lately and she needs him, she thinks he doesn’t find her attractive anymore because they hadn’t had sex in a long time, but draco tells her that he still loves her and make love to her? sorry if this is weird, and only if you’re comfortable. anyways have a good day

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

word count: 2.5k

warning(s): 18+, pregnant!reader, mentions of negative body image, mentions of weight gain, oral (female receiving), breast play, pregnant sex

a/n: this is actually part 3 to the arranged marriage draco series, so feel free to read the other two before this one if you haven't already! i love these ones so much. also my fbi agent probably thinks i'm a really kinky pregnant lady based on my search history while writing this but oh well.

part 1 / part 2 

It had been almost two years since your arranged marriage to Draco Malfoy and a lot had changed since then.

Firstly, you two were very much happily in love. Your engagement and the first two weeks of your marriage had been awkward and tense, leading you to find pleasure in the arms of your ex. After an impulsive move to admit your mistake to Draco on the very same day, mixed in with some aggressive sex, you two had decided to give your relationship a real shot. It was the best decision either of you had ever made. And now, two years later, you could happily and honestly say it was a real marriage filled with love.

Secondly, Draco had fully taken over as the sole leader of the Malfoy’s family business. You still weren’t entirely sure what the business entailed even after he had explained it to you a dozen times, but you were still proud of him. He worked hard and that hard work was all for you and your growing family.

Oh, right.

The biggest change in your lives has been your pregnancy. It wasn’t exactly planned but it wasn’t exactly an accident either. The two of you had simply decided to let fate decide, and fate was deciding now. You were six months in and you were really beginning to show. It wasn’t the bump that was the problem, but your husband's reaction. Or non-reaction. You understood he was busy with work and more than likely tired when he finally made it to bed, but he had barely touched you over the past few weeks other than small kisses. You knew he loved you, there was no doubting that, but you were starting to have your doubts about his attraction towards you.

Which led to the current situation unfolding in your bedroom.

“Why are you wearing that to bed? You never wear that much clothing to go to sleep,” Draco asked, his face laced with concern as he stripped from his work clothes near the bottom of the bed.

You almost wanted to roll your eyes. Or scream. Because of course he noticed. He noticed everything. You settled on giving him a non committed shrug, but of course he wasn’t having any of that either.

He quickly rounded to the bed to sit down beside you. “Are you feeling alright?” He asked, already bringing his hand up to feel your forehead.

You quickly pushed his hand away and this time you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “I feel fine,” you replied shortly, praying that he wouldn’t keep pestering you about it.

In truth, you were wearing a full set of pajamas to bed because you just didn’t feel attractive wearing your usual over sized shirts or skimpy, small sets anymore. You knew, rationally, that most of it was in your head, but his lack of libido for you lately wasn’t helping you feel much better about your current weight gain.

“Why all the clothing, then? Are you cold? I can turn the heat up if you’d like,” Draco continued, but he stood back up to continue changing.

“Draco, I said I was fine,” you insisted, barely keeping the annoyance out of your voice.

“Do you have a sexy set of lingerie underneath that you want me to find?” He asked, playfully now.

You scoffed. “Not that you’d fuck me if I did anyways,” you whispered under your breath.

But of course he heard you.

“What was that?” He asked, spinning back around to face you, his shirt half unbuttoned and his tie around his neck. Damn him for looking so good.

“I know you heard me. Don’t make me repeat it,” you replied coldly, rolling over so you didn’t have to face him any more.

“Y/N,” he called, trying to get your attention, trying to get you to turn back around. Once he realized that wouldn’t work, he rounded the bed so he could see your face. “Why do you think that?” He asked calmly, but you could see the desperate confusion all over his face.

“‘Why do I think that?’” You mocked, the question riling you up enough to force you to sit up. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you haven’t touched me in weeks. I know I’ve gained weight and I know I’m probably starting to look like a whale but-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cut you off, swiftly climbing onto the bed so he could be closer to you. “Darling, please calm down,” he pleaded softly, gently dragging you onto his lap so he could hold you. You let him move you easily, but you were still uneasy. He held you close and waited for you to calm down a bit and get settled before he started.

“First of all, you don’t look like a whale so let’s get that out of the way. You never have and you never will no matter how big this baby gets. You’re growing a child inside of you, darling. Please don’t be so hard on yourself for something you’re supposed to be doing right now,” he told you, absentmindedly stroking your growing belly. It was a new quirk he had picked up once you started showing - either of you started talking about the baby and suddenly his hand was on your stomach. The familiarity of the movement put you at ease and you leaned further into him.

“Secondly, I haven’t initiated anything because you were telling me how tired you’ve been. I didn’t want to push you into something you didn’t want or end up hurting you or the baby, so I didn’t try anything. I realize now that that was a mistake, because I hate that I made you feel this way, darling. I should have just asked. But please trust me when I tell you I’ve wanted you every day, same as it’s always been and always will be. Merlin, the past few weeks I’ve been going to bed and waking up hard enough to pound nails,” he admitted sheepishly, causing you to giggle.

Even the thought of him being hard had you clit throbbing and your body perking up. The past few weeks had left you desperate and aching despite the fatigue and other pregnancy symptoms wreaking havoc on your body. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, you wanted him now.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He finally asked, cutting off your train of thought.

You debated lying or even brushing off the question, but you knew he wouldn’t drop it unless he was certain you were being honest. Serious conversations called for honest responses.

“A couple of reasons I guess. You work hard all day and I know you’re tired by the time we get to bed, so I felt bad asking. And with the thoughts I was having it didn’t even really seem worth it to try anything because I thought you’d just shut me down,” you confessed, not even daring to look up at him.

“Darling, the day I say no to sex with you is the day my cock doesn’t work,” he said with a chuckle, but his hand came up to grab you under the chin to turn your head to face him. “I think you’re beautiful, Y/N. I have since the day I met you and everyday since. I don’t call you ‘my pretty girl’ for no reason. If you wanted me to make you feel good, you could have just asked me.”

You gave him a small smile, your first genuine one all day. But you jumped at the opportunity. “Even right now?” You asked bashfully, referencing the less-than-sexy pajamas you were wearing.

He didn’t even bother giving you an answer. On your next breath, he was pulling you into a heated kiss that you have been waiting weeks for. You both have been waiting if his enthusiasm was anything to go by.

Gently, so gently as if you might break if he was any rougher, he moved you both until you were laying flat on your back without breaking the kiss once. In mere moments he was stripping you bare, removing your layers until you were finally exposed to him. He didn’t give you a moment to be insecure, though.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he murmured, his dark eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You might have thought he was just feeding you compliments if you didn’t see the utter rapture in his eyes, but his look of lust was unmistakable.

You were breathless just from the way he was looking at you, equally stunned and turned on by the way he was devouring you with his eyes. But when he immediately ducked down to lick a harsh trail up your soaked slit, a moan of pleasure got ripped from your throat without hesitation. After weeks of nothing but self inflicted torture, feeling his tongue on you was an otherworldly experience.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he murmured against your aching clit before unleashing himself on you like a starving man. He started on your clit, giving it kitten licks and sucking it in between his lips until your legs were shaking. Eventually, he made his way down to your entrance to fuck you with his tongue, making you writhe against the sheets and practically scream his name.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. I can feel how close you are,” he demanded, his lips a caress against your sensitive skin as he worked you closer and closer to your release with his tongue.

He sucked your clit into his mouth one last time, and that was your undoing. You came with a scream, your back arching obscenely as wave upon wave of pleasure coursed through your body. Despite not having made you cum in weeks, your husband certainly did not disappoint. You doubted he ever would.

You could feel Draco staring at you as you came down from your high, and when you cracked your eyes open you were just as transfixed as he looked. His usually perfect hair was a mess, sticking up in odd places from the way you had mused your fingers through his locks. His lips were swollen and wet, in equal measure from the kisses you had been sharing and his exquisite ministrations on your still throbbing cunt. And his eyes were dark with lust, staring into yours like you held the answer to every question he ever had.

“Did that feel good, darling?” He cooed, his hands trailing possessively up your body as he raised himself to hover above you.

“I want more,” you told him honestly as he took your tender breasts in his hands, tweaking your nipples just to force a whine out of you.

“Keep making those pretty noises and we might be here all night,” he said with a smirk, his head ducking down to suck on the nipples he had just been playing with.

It felt so much better than it usually did, probably thanks to how sore they were. His tongue was soothing every inch of you and every movement caused another pulse of pleasure to go directly to your clit.

“Fuck, I think I can cum like this,” you gasped, pulling his head impossibly closer to your chest.

With graceful ease he doubled down on his actions, licking and sucking on your nipples with fervor as he slipped a hand down to play with your clit. Your body was in sensory overload as he worked you closer and closer to the edge, never once stopping what he was doing just to get you there.

You arched your back, suffocating him with your breasts as you reached your peak. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he worked you through it, his own moans vibrating against your sensitive nipples.

Draco wasted no time in stripping the second your breathing evened out, settling himself in the cradle of your thighs once he was back on the bed at lightning speed.

“Tell me if it’s too much. I don’t know how gentle I can be right now,” he said softly, a warning you’d probably ignore because you needed him inside of you just as badly as he did right now.

You could only nod back, your voice caught in your throat in anticipation. In one swift movement, he was buried inside you to the hilt, both of you giving strangled moans at the sensation.

He started slow, letting your body readjust to his impressive length and girth. You weren’t even sure which noises were yours and which were his, but you did know you were fighting not to roll your eyes back in your head in order to watch him work. He was clearly holding back, but his impeccable self control was shattering as he thrust inside of you.

You knew just how to break him.

“Fuck me like you mean it. Draco, please. I want to feel it in the morning,” you whined, your voice breathy from just his slow movements. You knew you’d be helpless to your own desire once he broke, but you knew it would be worth it.

He took a moment to look at you, an assessing gaze in his eyes. It was sweet that he didn’t want to hurt you, but that’s not what you needed or wanted right now. Far from it, really. He must have liked what he saw because from one breath to the next, you were screaming his name.

His next thrust was brutal, deep and hard just the way you were craving. You knew neither of you would last long like this, not with all the pent up arousal, but it was worth it to feel the powerful movements of his hips as he ruined you.

Despite his lack of control, he was still meticulous in the way he tore you apart. Slowly, he dipped his head down once more to suck a nipple into his mouth. Your back arched as you writhed under him, only pushing his cock deeper inside of you. Once you felt his fingers on your clit, you knew you were done for.

The world was a blur as your climax hit you, your vision and hearing almost nonexistent as he fucked you through it. It was only when you heard Draco let out his own ragged, breathless moan that you felt your body falling back into place underneath him while he released deep inside of you.

You both stayed like that for a time, your bodies still joined and close as you both came back down to earth. It felt almost impossible to catch your breath, but when he pulled out and wrapped you in his arms you felt your entire body settle into him. The silence that fell over the room was peaceful and content, but a stark contrast from what it had been mere minutes ago.

“Go to sleep, pretty girl. I’m staying home tomorrow and at this rate it’s doubtful we’ll ever make it out of bed,” he finally said, his promise coming with a smirk you couldn’t see from your angle but you knew was dancing across his face.

“I like the sound of that,” you conceded, slowly succumbing to the sleep you desperately needed after that, but the last thought you had before sleep took you was that you had never felt more loved, more cherished, more beautiful than right now in his arms.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

This is a weird question, but what would happen if Edward slept with or raped Bella in Twilight and got her pregnant with Renesmee? I know that this is even more unlikely than her getting pregnant in NW, but well we're in the land of answers to unlikely questions on this blog

Well anon, I guess we're going here.

Specifically anon is referencing this post.

My Usual Up Front Note

Yes, I know, we all know this is outlandish but I have to do this. Otherwise this blog descends into me writing fanfiction, and I have an AO3 and FFNet account for that.

Edward is many things and it's no great secret that I think he... makes very questionable decisions all the time and should not be romantically entangled with anybody.

However, Edward is not a rapist.

In the original post I go over my thoughts on this but essentially the crux of it is that Edward does have his moral standards. He will not have sex with a woman without a) being married to her first and b) without her explicit consent. Which, Bella does give against his advice in New Moon, fully aware of all the consequences that Edward himself is aware of (neither knew Renesmee was on the table then).

I do not think, at least without a lot of terrible things and huge catalysts happening first, that Edward would rape Bella.

I certainly don't think they'd be having sex as early as Twilight. Bella's not yet eighteen, Edward has no immediate plans to leave her (likely telling himself he'll leave after graduation when the separation is more natural), and he has no plans to marry her.

Sex isn't even on the table in Twilight.

Come on, Muffin, Try

But, per the ask, Edward and Bella do have sex in Twilight.

I have no idea how this would occur without a substantial amount of sex pollen. So, sex pollen it is.

Edward and Bella are in the meadow, it's the happiest day of Edward's life as Bella now fully understands what he is and doesn't run in terror. It's the happiest day of Bella's life as beautiful Edward has just shown her his innermost vulnerable self.

The stupid lamb is in love with the stupid lion. Huzzah.

Just then, wafting through the sky, is a blossoming alien plant life that for some unknown reason is also an intense aphrodisiac. This likely affects the entire town of Forks, but never mind them, we're focusing on Bella and Edward.

Bella looks at Edward, Edward looks at Bella, chemicals in their brain are churning. And as many a fanfiction protagonist has found out: resistance is futile. Edward and Bella succumb to the sex pollen in short order.

Edward probably crushes Bella in the act of sex and ends up sucking her blood out of the grass like a vacuum cleaner while naked. When he comes to, there's bits of Bella's pancreas on his face. He sobs in despair, for he is the world's greatest monster who has raped the love of his life to death and then devoured her corpse.

He goes to Volterra to kill himself. Aro's not sure what to say to any of this, Caius judges Carlisle by association.

However, we're not in that timeline per the ask.

Instead, somehow, despite both parties being not at home, Edward does not crush Bella in the midst of intercourse. Instead, as the sex pollen fades, they get to stare at each other in the aftermath.

They're in a meadow, naked, their clothes are torn into pieces, neither Bella nor Edward is a virgin and both of them can barely remember having sex.

Edward likely flees with suicide on his mind.

He may not have crushed Bella and devoured her corpse but he did just rape her. His inner demon took over and tarnished the most wonderful thing in all the world: he is no better than the monsters he once devoured.

He's likely planning his flight to Volterra before he even gets to the house. All he needs is a change of clothes and a credit card.

And luckily for him, since the entire town just succumbed to sex pollen (including the Cullens), Alice is probably in too much of a daze to see what's about to happen. Edward is able to find some pants, purchase a flight, and runs.

Bella is left naked and alone in the meadow. And very, very, sore.

Eventually, she has to hobble back to the street. She probably gets lost, as she did in canon. Eventually, a search party is probably sent out for Bella. One of the Cullens probably finds her first and... holy god she's looking full on rape victim.

No clothes, shivering naked and dangerously cold, covered in bruises.

Carlisle has not seen Edward all day, sex pollen descended on the town, this is painting a very bad picture of what just happened to Edward and Bella.

Bella tries to insist she's fine. She's not. She's taken to the hospital. And then the bomb drops. Bella easily confesses to Carlisle that she and Edward had sex. Bella has had sex with no one else. She's given a pregnancy test, it comes back positive.

Bella is pregnant with Edward's vampire child.

Carlisle... does not know how to tell Bella. Bella takes it very well surprisingly. By which she doesn't at all.

She does not want to be a teenage mother, that girl in that small town, at all. (She also would be devastated to be thought of as Edward Cullen's rape victim, but Bella's oblivious to that whole part of this)

She also has her whole life ahead of her and never wanted kids or to get married. She's seen how that shit turns out.

On the other hand, this is Edward's child, how can Bella take something so beautiful out of this world? Also, Renesmee's probably working overtime.

Bella tells Carlisle, right there in the hospital, that she's keeping the baby. Yes, she knows that she will have to fake her death, that she'll never see her family again. Yes, she's carrying a child that Carlisle's never seen before, he's not an OBGYN, and there's no telling what will happen. Yes, she's aware she could die. She's doing this.

Well. Carlisle's life just got ten times harder.

He fakes her death in the hospital somehow. Bella Swan dies of internal bleeding from the rape and is carted out of the hospital. Charlie, naturally, comes to arrest Edward Cullen (despite the entire town being affected by sex pollen all at once) but Carlisle truthfully notes that Edward isn't there. He hasn't seen Edward since the day before.

Charlie is also probably working overtime as the whole damn town was raped and does not have much time to look into this. Though Bella will be top priority case.

Charlie leaves (likely to go get a search warrant) and Carlisle gets to breathe a temporary sigh of relief. That sigh of relief is very temporary. Alice comes in in a flurry: Edward has fled to Volterra to kill himself.

Bella, who comes out of the cupboard she was hiding in during Charlie's visit, asks, "What's a Volterra?"

Carlisle calls Aro, tells him to stall Edward until Carlisle can come and also, Bella's pregnant with Edward's child.

Aro has no idea how to take that, and confesses what Carlisle guessed: no, he's never heard of such a thing before. Well, Aro will ask around and try to see if this (or sex pollen) have ever happened before and why doesn't Carlisle bring Bella with him when he comes to pick up Edward.

(Remember, this is before Eclipse, and as such all the shady nonsense has yet to go down.)

The whole family vamooses in the middle of the investigation, Dr. Carlisle Cullen won't be allowed t exist for a while. They head to Volterra, where Edward, indeed, has been stalled and he and Bella reunite.

Though, when I say "they", it's probably the Cullens sans Alice and Jasper. Alice wouldn't want to tempt Aro too much and, since Bella's carrying Renesmee, her visions are pretty much useless anyway. She'll see them later.

Edward is not nearly as thrilled as Bella that she is carrying his demon rape child. However, no one's listening to him and Bella insists she's not aborting the baby. Instead, Bella is heartbroken and tries to assure Edward that he's worthy of her and that it wasn't rape (it was) she had a great time! And she wants his demon baby!

Caius can't believe this soap opera is in his house.

Well, Edward probably won't try to kill himself before killing Renesmee, but then Renesmee's gift works overtime and he's convinced vampires have souls and is somehow able to forgive himself all this madness.

Edward marries Bella after she turns and gives birth, everyone loves Renesmee and they decide she's not a demon and is worthy of life, and they eventually leave Volterra great friends with the Volturi.

Sort of.

Weirdest decades of Caius' life.

[creativeashproductions]

What If...? IV // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: 1997 and 1998 are big years for Luke Patterson and his fiancée with their engagement and wedding planning. If you thought wedding planning and the wedding itself was the big things well, you’d be wrong. I mean this is the couple that almost ended with a car accident. Join the year long adventure.

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy, minor angst, sweet groom!Luke, and fluff

Words: 3.3k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog. There is one more part after this. 🥺😭

A/N: It’s finally here! The Patterson-Y/L/N wedding makes its appearance here and a little cameo of a future character. The next part is the last part in the miniseries as well. Enjoy.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Hollywood 1997

An entire year had flown by from the day of your engagement to Luke filled with frustration, elation and greatness. Sunset Curve toured around California, leaving the Y/L/N-Patterson women to plan the wedding. Nineteen years old now in the modestly sized apartment, Luke sat beside you in the bathroom.

Two nervous teenagers a mere month away from their wedding day they cuddled each other eyes pinned at the floor. Apprehensive of the stick that held power to change everything in their lives. For the last week, you hadn’t felt very well with being tired and nausea laying you out in bed.

“It’s been long enough.” Luke murmured reaching for the test, “No matter what. I love you.”

Kissing his cheek, the two of you slumped at the negative with surprising emotion. The negative greatly disappointed you.

“I’m sorry,” Luke mumbled to his fiancée equally torn up because while the timing wasn’t perfect, he had pictured what life would be like.

A tiny baby growing in his fiancée womb, growing into bump made flutters in his belly. Of love, he already felt for your future unborn children and snuggling his kids. Introducing them to his loved ones and bonding over music. Teaching his son or daughter how to play the guitar.

He’d love to see his parents cradle a new addition to the family freshly born with the tiny knit hat Emily couldn’t resist making. Sharing a celebratory beer with his father and wisdom for the coming years. To learn the parental reason of why they had been against his career choice.

“I really wanted it to be positive.” You admitted playing with your fingers disappointed at being wrong about your body. Luke smiled as your words as he grabbed your hand in his calloused grip.

“Do you…do you want to try for a baby?” Luke trailed off flushing at how beautiful you would look growing his child. The bathroom was quiet as you thought the idea over, “With the tour just finishing the band will be writing music and recording. I could be here for the whole pregnancy and birth.”

“If we get pregnant in the next month. But we’re also getting married in a few months.” You sighed leaning to rest about his bare arm staring at the pregnancy test.

“If it happens then it happens.” Luke spoke, “If you want, we can try.”

Raising your eyes to meet Luke’s you hesitantly nodded at his words as it settled that is there ever a perfect time to get pregnant? So many people struggle with conception like your parents did with you; your mother’s labour was so complicated that you’d never have siblings.

“Okay.” Luke breathed, standing up to scoop you into his arms, “Best get on with it.”

The laughter filled the simple bedroom as Luke crawled over your body to hover with a matching smile. There was no one else in the world that could get his heart fluttering and focus on something other than music. It was terrific, and he couldn’t be mad about.

“So, Rockstar…are you gonna help?” You whispered tugging on the chain of his necklace to drag his face closer. Closing the distance, Luke’s lips brushed yours before time stopped in a collision of senses.

The callouses of his fingers trailing a fire under the flowing shirt chosen for the lunch date earlier. The warmth of his hands nowhere close enough to match the heat your body burnt with. The taste of the cherry chapstick he shamelessly stole from you, but it was the heady scent of Luke that got you.

 Luke heavily breathed as he pulled back with a hazy gaze with the green almost overtaken by the black pupils. No hesitation as your lips sucked on his neck, bringing a gravelly moan from the man over you, a sound that caused your lower half to clench. Legs unable to fully close as his fingers drew symbols on your inner thigh.

Symbols that spelt out his full name. Now that was really hot.

A gasp pulled from your throat you arched as a hand came up to cup your breast in his hand; Luke could argue all he wanted, but he was boob man when it came to you.

Thoughts disappearing the ecstasy with the love of your life overtook your senses.

July 1998

The white dress was a little snugger than the previous month, but you had a good reason for it. A tiny little blob had taken up residence in your womb with a sickness that lasts all day from day one until the start of trimester two. Getting pregnant had to be easy with Luke from the number of times.

Didn’t matter where you were when Luke tugged you away. The small bathroom in the studio? Three times.

Luke’s couch? Yeah, Alex refuses to sit there now.

At this point, you had been everywhere, trying for a baby was incredibly fun, but the hormones sucked. Luke’s deft fingers creating the chords of a song? Bobby banned you from rehearsals, and you had an emergency bag of clothes as well.

“You look gorgeous.” Nancy Y/L/N told her daughter with tears glittering in her eyes as she took in the sight of her daughter. The wedding dress the bridesmaids, mother’s and Alex had hunted for; the boy had tagged along as he was like a brother. Reggie, Bobby and Luke had spent the day with Mitch and Lance.

A sob broke from the lips of Lance; his baby girl no longer needed him with her soon to be husband. There was no one in the world he trusted more with his daughter than Luke Patterson. The boy never placed the band ahead of his fiancée, and it was quickly noticed how much Luke adored the Y/L/N girl.

“Dad.” You spoke, rushing to hug the man in your arms, “Stop crying. You’ll make me cry.”

Lance was able to hold his tears until the music started and the doors opened to the venue that Luke’s parents married in. Luke stood at the altar with Bobby, Alex, and Reggie. On the opposite side stood your best friend, a childhood friend and your close cousin.

“You look beautiful,” Dad told you slowly making their way to the man cupping his hands over his face. Overtaken by your beauty and the glow, Luke thanked Lance.

“Baby, you look like an Angel,” Luke whispered, squeezing your hands tightly in his as the ceremony began.

“It’s rare that one can find their soulmate, the other half of themselves on such a large plant. Luke and Y/N orbited each other as young children and fell in love in a perfect place. For those of you who don’t know, these two met as a concert. The first step to falling in love. Music is important to this couple.” The officiant spoke, “Luke’s mother told me once that music tethered their souls together, they truly met at a concert, and every important moment had a song.”

Luke’s eyes watered meeting the brown of his mother’s love-filled eyes holding hands with her husband. Luke had no clue how much his mother came to accept, and he felt the relationship fully fix itself as it settled that his Mom had personally made the ceremony better.

 “These two souls came together and became one. Luke and Y/N’s love is rare and beautiful. Today these two had decided to make their own vows.” The officiant finished, “Luke if you could start.”

“There has always music in my heart and soul since childhood. I adored listening and begging my parents for new music. My parents, one year, gave me a guitar as a gift, and it started a deep passion in my soul. I made a band with my best friends, and the band brought me to a person that would become more important. Y/N, I had had a crush on you for a long time before you first spoke to me. I had hit Reggie in the calf with my father’s car, and you made a joke about my height. It wouldn’t be until years later than I somehow convinced you to take a chance.” Luke squeezed your hands, “I love music because it brought me to you.”

“Luke. I am absolutely positive that I have loved you for more than this lifetime as my love is so vast and deep. I believe we have been destined since the dawn of time to find each other together by music. I can’t compete with your vows because you have a way with words with the songwriting you’ve done. You’ve been there through the hard times and best times holding my hand ready to catch me if I fell. I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives catching each other when we need it.”

“May the rings be presented?” The officiant asked with a smile as your best friend and Alex gave the rings.

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Luke whispered as he slid the band to rest against your engagement ring. You repeated the words as you slid the band on his finger as well.

“I now pronounce you as man and wife. Mr. Patterson, you may kiss your wife.” The officiant spoke, sending the room into applause.

You and Luke ran down the aisle still holding hands with the biggest smiles of your entire life to the limo that would deliver you to the reception. Luke couldn’t help himself as he pressed kisses all over. This was a glorious day for the musician, his career was going really well, and he married the most beautiful girl.

“God, I love you.” Luke murmured to the girl in the white dress. Leaning closer for another kiss, Luke froze.

Digging into his ankle was a heavy object. Your nervous eyes glittered under the dimmed lighting in the limo. Never-ending eye contact Luke lifted a moderately heavy wooden chalkboard. Written on the sign was: ‘Unofficial flower girl or ring bearer’.

“Are you serious?” Luke asked gobsmacked at the news that heightened the greatness of his wedding day. Eyes flickering to meet yours he watched as your hand unzipped a hidden pocket on your dress.

Flat on your hand was a pregnancy test similar to the one you took months back. The only difference being this one had two lines.

“AS serious as a heart attack. There will be a baby Patterson in six months.” The laugh was joyful as your lips parted.

Luke wasted absolutely no time in setting his hand on the slight bump the dress had covered, “This is why you mentioned your dress being snugger?”

“Mhm.” You replied, stroking the softness of his cheekbone in pure love with him and the life you carried, “We’re in for a wild ride Patterson.”

“Bring it on.” Luke finished kissing your cheek as the limo came to a stop in front of a large venue. The duo you ran inside where your wedding guests threw paper airplanes that Reggie had suggested.

Each airplane had a personal note from your friends and family along that would be gathered into a binder. Reggie had found out that rice wasn’t good for birds and while the reception was inside, he couldn’t do it. So, he brought the idea of paper airplanes; in class, the boys would throw airplanes at each other. It was a nod to their adolescence.

“I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Patterson,” Alex announced into the microphone set on the stage with Sunset Curve’s instruments. It didn’t surprise anyone that the band would play at the wedding.

On the stage, a beautiful Hispanic woman played a soft piano ballad, if you could recall that maybe the bartender from the Orpheum. Her name was on the tip of your tongue as Luke twirled you into his arms with a big grin.

“Mrs. Patterson.” You hummed tugging him to the head table with where your wedding party would join as well. The second Luke helped you sit he knelt down to reach the box covertly placed.

Your eyebrows came together as he opened it, revealing two matching pairs of personalized vans; following the wedding theme one pair was white and another black. On the right shoe, it had ‘just married’ with the wedding date while the left shoe had a picture from your engagement pictures. Of course, Luke made them have Mr. and Mrs. above the image as well.

“How?” You breathed as Luke gently removed your heels to replace them with a thin pair of no-show socks. Over the socks went the white vans that gave your feet a break from the four-inch heels.

“We’re supposed to party now.” Luke beamed squeezing your hands in his only bending to kiss the back of each. His hazel eyes had shifted to a rich green as he stared up at yours with such a tender look, you could feel the heat building in your cheeks.

As your wedding party took their seats, Luke had already changed his shoes and pushed the box back under the table. His left hand refused to leave your right one as you both took in the magical room that had once only been a concept on paper.

“This is amazing.” You breathed leaning into Luke’s arm, sending a smile to the table near the front with both your parents, “Also thank you for the shoe surprise.”

 “I am so happy they got done on time.” Luke sighed slouching in his seat, waving at the photographer you had hired.

If you can recall correctly, Luke had met him at a band photoshoot, and he was the assistant to the head photographer. You believe his name was Ray and incredibly talented and under-appreciated by his former boss.

“Did you let the photographer know we have an open bar?” You leaned over to your new husband with a flutter in your belly at his new title. The question turned the corners of Luke’s mouth for the first time that day.

“I find it unfair that we have an open bar and we can’t drink anything.” Luke snorted nudging Reggie in his side.

“Oh, I think we both know you’ll sneak some for the guys and you.” You chuckled leaning back in the chair. One hand resting on your stomach to caress the material with your thumb, unaware, “I’ll stick to the sparkling juice.”

Luke’s one eyebrow raised at the sudden change in your drink choice as in the past you wouldn’t turn down your favourite. His eyes shifted down to your hand with raised eyebrows.

“Wait…are you…?” Luke drawled out slowly in your ear taken aback when your head in a surreptitious manner. His jaw unhinged mind opened as he took in the tiny bump; in the years together, he was very acquainted with your body.

“We are. How cliché are we?” You laughed as Luke lunged to press a kiss to the supple skin lightly painted with foundation.

Your makeup was natural and straightforward to last longer for photos and make it through the dances for later. It was also Luke’s favourite look.

Dinner, the dances and speeches had sped by ending with both the bouquet toss and the garter toss. The guests mingled with the newlyweds as some danced, Emily had managed to drag Luke back on the floor.

“I’m proud of you, Luke.” Emily smiled up at her son, “And you said those dance lessons were a waste of time.”

A light pink flush took over the nineteen-year old’s full cheeks reminiscing the lessons he had taken with his mother. He had been eleven or twelve at the time when his father pulled a muscle at the worst time. The coupons nearly expiration Emily took Luke to the lessons that initially had been for date night.

“I think it helped with singing-“Luke instinctively cut himself off as he had done years before when music was a no go subject, “Sorry you don-“

“Luke, I can never explain how sorry I am about what happened. I was wrong to push you into a box you didn’t fit. Music is a part of you, and I understand now.” Emily squeezed the bicep of the guitarist, “Besides you’ll understand where we were coming from in a couple months.”

Luke’s jaw dropped at her announcement, “What.”

“Luke, I am a mother. I know the signs such as your wife turning down the wine.” Emily admitted stepping back from the boy that had so suddenly become a man before her very eyes.

No longer was he the chubby-cheeked boy running naked from his bath after splattering spaghetti sauce on himself. He had outgrown his interest in soccer and baseball with his little friends. He had matured into a man that lived up to Emily’s teachings. Luke, in her eyes, was now a man of honour, integrity, kindness and stood up for himself.

Emily and Mitch Patterson had done a fantastic job raising their son, but now they could step back. They would get to watch Luke find his way as a husband and a father.

“Hey, man,” Reggie spoke as Luke walked off the dance floor finding you among family congratulating the couple.

“Hey, Reg.” Luke beamed tugging the bassist into his arms for a tight hug. As the two boys leaned back, they looked over at their friend.

Alex discarded the pink suit jacket at the table in favour of leaning against the wall talking with the bartender. A smile blossomed on the two men’s faces as they took in that Alex was utterly relaxed in the conversation.

“They were hardcore flirting.” Reggie piped up, referencing the male bartender, “His name is Billy, I think.”

The bartender had shoulder-length dark hair pulled back in a bun with glittering brown eyes drowning in the shy blonde. He wore a dark shirt opened a few buttons with white detailing on it. A white necklace as well, but it was the lovesick smile Luke loved; Alex deserved happiness the most in Sunset Curve.

“He’s totally a skater.” Reggie spoke, “It’s a love story. He’s a skater boy, and he’d like to do ballet.”

“That would be a sick song. He was a punk, she did ballet.” Luke hummed to a melody created on the spot, “Not really our sound.”

“Someone will figure out a way to use it.” Reggie waved off, and he was right. A singer would use the exact lyric in her song ‘Sk8er Boi’ in 2002 when Sunset Curve would bump into her.

Slowly the boys of Sunset Curve found their way to the stage to perform a few songs directed towards you. At your urging, you had demanded they give a live performance of Unsaid Emily for your now mother-in-law. As they sang, you wrapped an arm, Emily, as she cried.

“This is his best work.” You mumbled to the older woman cupping her wet cheek leaning into the touch of her husband’s touch.

As soon as the song was over, Emily yanked her son into her arms both parties of the hug emotionally moved. It seemed the performance had shifted something in their relationship for the better. Luke didn’t need to explain as he pulled you into his side once more.

 “Alex isn’t the only one that found someone.” You whispered, finding Alex and the bartender on break dancing on the edge of the dance floor. At your husband’s puzzlement, your finger pointed in the direction of the stage.

In a conversation photographer, Ray captivated the lead singer of the band you had hired when Sunset Curve didn’t play. Even Reggie seemed to have the attention of your twin showgirl cousins from Las Vegas.

“Love attracts love.” Luke simply spoke, wrapping his built arms around his wife, thinking back on the changes that had happened.

Luke hitting Reggie’s leg with the car at thirteen, finding each other at the concert a few years later, the accident that threatened the relationship. Proposing twice and finally marrying over a year later on the same day you confessed the pregnancy. So much had happened in such a fraction of time.

“I love you.” Luke murmured at the shell of your ear watching his friends have the time of their lives on a beautiful day in the summer of 1998.

Above are the example of the shoes that Luke got.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

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[peachyproserpina]

4 AM Dad!Paterson x Reader

Yet again I am here, with a tender piece dedicated to my love @glassbxttless . You deserve the world Cece and you're one of my favorite people.

TW: PPD, Pregnancy talk, Depressive thoughts, lots and lots of crying, lots of kisses, rambling, not proof-read

Maybe one of these days I'll work myself up to writing smut or something of the sort but until then have these small tender tidbits.

He’s up, it’s so early it’s still dark out, even for winter. You’re curled into his side, soft snoring and maybe drooling a little, he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head before reaching over for his watch, checking the time it’s just about 4 am. You’ve only been asleep for about 2 hours and knowing his fussy son Felix is about to stir awake to be fed again. He’s small, born just a little too early and he’s been a recent addition into your home lives. Paterson’s taken 3 months off of his route to be there for the both of you.

The pregnancy was hard on everyone, between the sickness and everything else that started kicking in Pat felt bad he didn’t take time from the route before Felix was born. You always hushed those thoughts of inadequacy with a swift kiss to his plush lips and tender tug on his earlobe. Joking about how if he was home and fretting over you everyday like he is now you would have probably been a single parent by the time Felix was born. Pat’s smiling down at you while he shuffles out from under you to sneak out of the room and into the nursery with Felix. Taking hushed quiet steps he barely opens the door and see’s Felix start to stir, not quite hungry enough to start crying. Pat shuts the door and goes to warm up some formula so he can feed him and have you catch up on the sleep you are definitely lacking.

He remembers when you told him you we’re pregnant, how neither of you have ever cried that hard before in your lives. Happy tears running down your faces and Pat sitting there perched on the bathroom counter while you take test after test just to make sure. You had both been trying forever, it took a year of trying and so many false positive tests before you ended up having Felix. Pat picks up Felix who just started to whine and rocks him back and forth while he settles into the deep rocking chair located in the corner of the room. He still doesn’t feel like it’s real, he never wanted kids, Laura never said she wanted one, content with her dog and Pat. After they split Pat figured he would never end up dating ever again and settled in his new life, same routine, less poetry, maybe picking up a few more routes when he should have taken his day off. Until you stumbled into his bus and he knew then and there that you were going to change his life. You brought it up one summer day after you we’re both married, wanting kids and Pat knew then and there that he wanted to start a family with you. He agreed and from that point forward y'all were at it like rabbits.

He coos as Felix drains his bottle faster than he expected, he’s getting bigger everyday but Pat still feels like a giant when he holds him. He has your hair, and so much of it. He did end up with Pats big ears and brown eyes, but Pat can’t deny he sees so much of you in him and that makes his heart sing. He knows his sass might even outmatch yours even after being home for these first few weeks. Felix snuggles into Pat's hold while he rocks them back and forth still, just enjoying spending time together, Felix drooling onto his shirt just as you were not so long ago and that makes Pat tear up. You are his world, and always will be. He blinks back his tears and brings Felix up to his face so he can shower him in kisses. He hears the door creek and you’re stepping in, rubbing your eyes, maybe not even fully awake. You walk over to the crib and reach in to pick up Felix. Eye’s snapping open and chest heaving once you don’t feel him. Pat’s eyebrows furrow as he watches you spin and spot your boys in the rocking chair and let out a breath, heart rate going back down and relaxing.

He can feel your anxiety from here, you’ve been together long enough that he can read you. There’s more than Felix not being in his crib that is eating away at you- Pat makes his way over to you placing a sweet kiss to the top of your head before laying the baby down now that he is taken care of and turns to you. Cocking an eyebrow and rubbing his large hands over your arms. Gently leading you back to your room and settling back into your bed. You cuddle up to him, tracing patterns on his chest. Pat’s mind is going a million miles a minute, he knows the PPD has been hard, those weeks while Felix was still in the hospital you barely moved. He was so worried about you, for you. Hovering and doing everything he could think of for you. Keeping you hydrated when you would cry and hushing reassuring words to you when you opened up about feeling like you would never bond with Felix because he was in the hospital. Chasing those fears away with his soft words and softer hands. He took the time off of work because he wanted to make sure his family was okay, that you, the light of his life was okay. With Felix home you seemed better, less crying fits and despite both of you being exhausted you started making more decisions and offering to make dinner once a week, even if it was just dumping everything into a crock-pot.

He watches you, rubbing his hand up and down your back, lightly scratching under your sleep cami, you hum and open your mouth only to close it again. You do this a few more time before mumbling something into his chest, your fingers digging into his shirt. Pat furrows his brows for what feels like this millionth since being up.

“What was that Sweetheart?” He’s running his hands up and under your chin to tilt you to look up at him and his heart breaks when he sees tears start to leak out of your eyes and plop, sink, spread onto his shirt.

“Pat- I don’t think-” You’re gasping as you try to get this thought out. “I don’t think I'm a good parent, I-” your tears are coming faster now and Pat sits the both of you up, pulling you onto his lap. You can’t meet his eyes, you shut your eyes and lean your head back willing the tears to stop. Pat’s heart is breaking-

“Sweetheart- you know” you shake your head mentally begging him to stop as you cry harder. You’re not a good parent, not cut out for this, your boys. Pat and Felix deserve someone so much better than you. Your thoughts keep swirling, not even hearing Pat as his term of endearment for you spills out of his lips. “Y/N. Look at me.” His tone is curt, words not harsh but serious. You’ve only heard Pat use this tone of voice once or twice before. You look at him, he brings his hands up and gently wraps one around your jaw and his other one pushes your hair out of your face, he’s so gentle with you. No one thinks that Paterson is gentle, he’s too big, takes up too much room even when driving the bus. But he is so so gentle with you, always. His touches are softer than butter and melts into your skin, even now as you’re crying, snot assuredly leaking out of your nose, face red and blotchy he is still soft with you. He holds your gaze and you can see the heartbreak in his eyes and that makes the tears well anew. Thoughts of you didn’t deserve him, he deserved better, someone else.

Pat can see the spiral of panic in your eyes again and tightens his grip barely on your jaw. Cupping the back of your head close and kissing your lips so softly, whispering sweetheart between every kiss.

“I can’t believe how hard it’s been for you, love, but you are an amazing parent. I know it, Felix knows and even though you don’t feel like it you know you are.” Your lips are still touching while he spills his heart out to you- “I never wanted kids until I met you Sweetheart, you changed my entire life and I never wanted kids, never wanted anything like that until you. You are so strong, stronger than you know, you’re so stubborn so you won’t admit it. When you need help, when you feel like you're drowning.” Pat can’t stop, he has so much to say, he wants to scream it, wishes you could see just how stunning and perfect and and and.

“This wasn’t easy for me, I can’t even imagine how hard this was for you Sweetheart. But you did it, you did it all, you gave birth to the most beautiful baby I have ever seen and made my life complete. You can’t see it and some days I know it doesn’t feel like it but you are perfect, for both me and Felix. I love you, so so much.” Pat stops, biting his tongue wanting to drown you in the more praise that you deserve, that you need to hear because it is true. You’ve stopped crying, you’re looking at him looking deep into his honey brown eyes before letting the tension fall away from your shoulders and snuggling into his neck. Your hands rubbing up and down his solid chest, pressing kisses into his neck.

“Thank-” you start before Pat shakes his head,

“No need to thank me for telling you the honest truth.” Pat’s snuggling you both down under the covers now and you’re sucking a dark mark into the side of his neck, trying to not cry exhausted tears. Full of love and able to get real rest for what feels like for the first time in days. Pat is tracing patterns into your back while you fall back asleep. Hoping that you take these words to heart, because it is all the honest and whole truth.

[let-it-raines]

Walking the Baseline (Year: 2015)

Summary: This should be the happiest he’s been in years, but it’s not. He and Emma already had wildly different schedules, but now that she’s no longer on tour, it feels like they barely see each other. When they do, it’s for a day here, a week there, two if they’re lucky. That’s no way to live when his girlfriend is carrying their baby and freaking out about it more than he is.

If only he could have a bloody break from tennis to focus on his personal life for once.  

He’s got to be careful what he asks for.

Rating: Teen +

a/n: Hello again! I know these have been slow going, but I’m here with another installment! This may or may not be the last one. I haven’t decided on that yet, so we’ll see what happens there as I know there are many more things that could be told in this universe but don’t know how much motivation I have to write them 😘

ao3: 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015 (CURRENT) | 2016 (original one-shot) |

Tumblr: 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015 (CURRENT) | 2016 (original one-shot) |

-/-

November 2014.

Shit.

“This is bad,” Rob says from across the room, as if that isn’t the most obvious bit of information on the planet right now. “What are you going to do, mate?”

He wants to do a myriad of things, but he can’t right now.

“Play my match and then call Emma and make sure she’s okay.” Killian shrugs and bends down at the knees to squat against the wall. He hits the timer on his phone for a minute, and he tries to focus on that instead of the news Ariel just texted him.

He’s not doing great at that. All these years of being able to block life out before a match have suddenly deteriorated.

“Do you want to call her now?” Robin prods.

“She won’t answer if I call now. Watch.” Killian exits out of the timer and hits Emma’s number on his phone. It rings and rings and rings, and she never answers. He stands from his squat and tries again. Still, no answer. “Emma, darling,” he speaks into the phone, “I’m about to play, so I can’t talk to you anytime soon. I love you. Everything is alright, yeah? We knew this was going to happen at some point, but I’m sorry it happened this way. I’ll call you as soon as I can. You and the babe stay safe, alright?”

“Do you think that’s going to do any good?”

“No,” Killian answers honestly, “it’s not. She’s going to be freaking the hell out, and nothing is going to calm her down, certainly not me.”

He thumbs through his phone once more, looking through his texts and clicking on the links Ariel sent him. It’s pictures of Emma in her neighborhood, which is supposed to be private. That is a lie, though, because someone managed to take pictures of Emma walking to get her mail, her clothes tight enough that the roundness of her stomach is obvious, especially compared to how she usually looks.

It’s not good. Not good at all.

After the US Open, Emma stopped playing, telling the WTA she was out for the rest of the season on injury. A few people know because of how often Emma has to get drug tested, but it’s all been a well-kept secret.

That is no longer true.

Bloody hell.

“Mr. Jones,” the tournament director says when he pokes his head in the warm-up room, “it’s time to go.”

“Aye, I’ll be right there.” He stands from his squat and stretches out his legs, jumping up and down a few times before grabbing his racket bag from the floor. “Rob, get Ariel to try calling Emma while I’m playing. She’s more likely to talk to her than any of us.”

“I’ll try.” Rob nods and claps his hand over Killian’s back. “Good luck in your match. I know it’s a rubber, but don’t be a loser.”

Killian blows air out of his nose with his laugh. “I’ll try not to be a loser. My fucking motto for life.”

-/-

Killian isn’t a loser that day, but he is out of the tournament. He hates the season-ending final, how it’s a round robin event. He lost the same amount of matches as the man who got to advance to the semi-finals but because he lost three more games, he’s packing his bags to go home.

(Though, he didn’t hate it when he won it years ago, but now is not the time to think of his own hypocrisy.)

To his home here in London, half an hour away from the tournament, instead of back in America with Emma. It’s been odd staying here for the past two weeks. For so long, he was used to living here alone. Sure, Ariel and Rob would pop in, especially after Milah, but it was his home. It was a place to sleep and shower and watch television between having to constantly be on the road and in the air. Then Emma came along and though she’s here less frequently, she’s made her mark.

Some of her clothes litter his closet, her mugs fill his cabinets, blankets she has bought are in the baskets in his den. She hasn’t been here since mid-September when they needed to get away for a little while, but she’s still everywhere. Killian has been finding her bobby pins in his carpet the entire time he’s been here.

The only thing of Emma’s that isn’t here is Emma.

The sun has set outside, darkness taking over, and though it’s past midnight in America, Killian presses Emma’s name on his phone as he sets the timer on the oven for his dinner.

“Hello?”

“Now, tell me why you’ll answer your phone at one in the morning but not during daylight hours?”

“Because I’m a stubborn ass with no real sense of time.”

Killian huffs and moves to his living room, plopping down on the couch. “Now, I thought that was me.”

“It is. We both are. It’s why we’re dating.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“Well, I could say other things, but I’m trying to work on my dirty jokes, trying to say fewer of them.”

“Oh, you should never do that. I like when you’re dirty.” Emma’s silent on the other end of the line, and Killian waits for her to speak, to make another joke, to ask him if he could litter this conversation with innuendos. When she doesn’t, he decides it’s better to bite the bullet now than to drag it out. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I want to change what I was wearing to get the mail this morning,” Emma says through gritted teeth. “I don’t know how I could have been so damn stupid.”

“It’s a private area. You thought you were safe. It’s understandable, love. Don’t beat yourself up about it. You were going to have to tell everyone eventually.”

“Eventually being the key word.” She whistles, and if he had to guess, she’s sitting in bed with a tub of icing in her lap and one of her favorite shows on the television. She’ll beat herself up about the icing tomorrow even if she shouldn’t. “Mary Margaret took my phone for a little while so I couldn’t check anything online. That’s why I didn’t answer you when you called earlier. It’s been…a day. I’m sorry you didn’t make it to the semi-finals.”

“Yeah, me too,” he tells her, allowing himself to wallow for a moment. “I get to come home to you sooner, though.”

“I’ve saved the tree for you to help me put up. And Mary Margaret has started on the sides for Thanksgiving. There’s going to be so much food for you to pig out on before off-season training starts.”

He can hear the smile now. Good.

“There’s nothing I’m looking forward to more. I’ve heard there’s such a thing as a dad bod, and I fully intend on getting one this holiday season.”

Emma blows air out her nose. “You and I both know that’s not true. You’re too vain for that.”

“I am devilishly handsome, aren’t I?”

“I’ll let you keep thinking that. Killian?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine. I mean, I’ll be fine. This entire…situation has sucked, but I’m slowly coming around to it. What happens, happens, and I’ll deal with it. If I can get through half the things I’ve gotten through, I can get through a human being growing inside of me and the world knowing about it. I think the hardest part is how bored I am. Do you have any idea what it’s like to constantly be on the move and then for it to suddenly stop?”

“No, I don’t.” He pulls a blanket over his lap to warm him. “I hope I never find out.”

“I hope you don’t either.” Emma yawns, and the corners of Killian’s lips tug up. Maybe this means she’ll try to sleep instead of staying up worrying all night. “I think I’m going to go to sleep. Or at least try.”

“Goodnight, Swan. I love you.”

“Yeah, you too.”

-/-

Killian gets two weeks off in Florida for Thanksgiving and to have a break from training. It’s lovely to do nothing if only for a moment (he would be horrible having to take the extended break like Emma) and to spend it with Emma and her family, but then it’s back to practice and tweaking his game during the off-season.

Rob and Nemo work him harder than they ever have, bemoaning him about his slow legs and his age – he’s nearly twenty-nine, which was once considered ancient in his sport – but he keeps pushing through. Hours are spent on the court and in the gym, and the rest of his days are spent with Emma, going on walks and watching TV in their house. She’s still practicing and going to the gym, even if those are modified to how they were before, and if Killian closes his eyes, it’s almost like normal.

But then, slowly, December passes, Christmas lights everywhere fading a little every day, and Killian is packing several suitcases for the month he’s going to spend in Australia. Three years ago, Australia is where it all began for them, and it’s odd to be going without Emma.

She’s made a rule that most of their conversations have to be about things other than the baby. Part of it is because Mary Margaret overloaded Emma with baby talk. It was constantly about names and clothing and what color the nursery should be painted. If it wasn’t that, it was book after book about pregnancy, hormone changes, and the many processes that happen when giving birth.

Even for Killian, who isn’t particular about medical procedures, that was too much. He loves Mary Margaret as much as Emma does, and while she’s great most of the time, it all has been a little much.

The media attention has been too.

Thus, Emma’s rules. Their lives are supposed to go on as normal with the occasional conversation about the baby, usually when it’s absolutely necessary or when it’s late at night and they’re in bed or lounging on the couch watching TV and Killian’s hand finds Emma’s ever-growing stomach.

He thinks that’s what’s so bloody difficult for him as he zips up his suitcase. He’s going to be gone for a month, and in that month, everything can and will change.

Killian is missing seeing his child grow and missing being with his girlfriend, and as much as he loves what he does, as passionate as he is about having the fucking best job in the world, he would trade it all to not have to give up so much of their lives.

Emma would never let him.

She’d slap him if she knew he was even having these thoughts.

“Do you like this jacket?” Emma asks as she shuffles through their closet next to him. “I mean, I like that it’s red, but do you think it’s too bold?”

Killian turns and looks, glancing up and down at Emma. “I like the red leather.”

Emma nods and smiles, looking at herself in the mirror and tugging the coat over her stomach. “One day again, it’ll zip up.” She rolls her eyes and then begins to take it off, but Killian stops and walks toward her, running his fingers over the lapels until she’s flush against him.

“One day,” he echoes before dipping his head to her neck and running his lips across her jaw, “but for now, I think it’s fine to not have you covered up.”

Emma cranes her neck and makes a nose he’s going to memorize and take with him all the way to Australia. “That was a horrible line. You need to be a better flirt. This isn’t working for me at all.”

His hand falls from her shoulder and slowly makes its way to her ass before he has a firm grip. She makes that noise again, and Killian smirks against her neck.

“Well,” he drawls, making his accent as thick as he can as he nibbles at her ear, “I have forty-five minutes before I have to go. What do you say I use about fifteen of those focusing on you?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Oh, absolutely. I want to take in as much of you as I can while I can.”

“Dirty,” he whispers in her ear before kissing her and walking her out of the closet and back to the bedroom.

-/-

January 2015.

ES: Good luck today, babe! Or tomorrow. I’m not really sure what time it is in Australia, but I do know I will not be awake for your match.

Killian laughs at his phone. He’s been here three weeks, and Emma still hasn’t gotten the time difference down. He figured she wouldn’t be too bad with it since she makes this trip every year, but according to David, he changed all of Emma’s clocks and she never really knows the difference after the first two days.

It’s technically yesterday afternoon back home, or at least it was when she sent this, and he texts her back, thanking her and promising to call after his practice.

He’s got the first night session match in RLA tonight for his quarterfinal match, and if that weren’t three in the morning back home, he knows Emma would be up for it.

He wouldn’t ask anyone to be awake at that ungodly hour for him.

“Have you finished your hair yet?” Ariel asks.

She’s sitting on his bed in his hotel room, has been for an hour even though he definitely did not invite her over, and he’s had to listen to her rambling about sponsorship pitches and contract negotiations and all the things he hates the entire time. So he’s spending a little extra time messing with his hair and shaving his beard. She’s used to this, of course, and probably knows the exact amount of time it’ll take him to get ready better than he does.

“Not quite, love.”

“You know you’re going to put it under a hat and get it all sweaty, right? It doesn’t matter what it looks like.”

Killian shakes his head and puts his razor down before walking out of the bathroom to peek his head over at Ariel. “Are you really that bored that you can’t find something else to do other than bother me?”

She sits up and props herself on her elbows, her red hair flowing down her back, but a small bit gets stuck in her eye. She quickly blows it off. “It’s a big match day, and you’re nervous. I’ve been sent here to keep you occupied so you can’t think about how nervous you are or how much you miss Emma or how much you want to write an entire book of poetry about how much you love her.”

“I have never said that last part,” he counters.

“But you’ve thought it, Mr. Darcy. You and your big ole heart and your obsession with your girlfriend and your baby.”

Killian chuckles and leans against the wall. He crosses his arms over his chest and arches a brow. “Am I not supposed to be in love with my girlfriend and our child?”

Ariel shrugs. “I just think that for someone who loves a woman that much, there might be a ring and a question rattling around somewhere.”

His eyes roll, and outwardly, he deals with the question with annoyance. Inwardly, his heart quickens and he thinks some things he’s been trying not to.

Some things that, well, shake him to his core and make his breathing a little more difficult than normal.

He and Emma have talked about marriage, but it’s always been brief, seemingly inconsequential. It’s something they’d consider a long way down the road, maybe when their lives are normal, when they can profess their love to each other without any professional blowbacks.

With how the game is progressing and how long players are starting to play now, and more than just the top guys, he doesn’t know when that’ll be.

Killian loves Emma. Emma loves him. They’ve both made each other better people and committed to each other and to their unborn daughter, and Killian doesn’t see that ever changing, marriage license or not.

“A,” he whispers, his fingers tapping over his bicep, “Whatever happens with us is as much up to Emma as it is to me. We like how things are now, and I can write a book of poetry on our love no matter if she is my wife or not.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just want to go to that wedding. I feel like it would be the party of a lifetime.”

“Tell you what, I’ll take you to the party of a lifetime when I win this damn tournament. We’ll go clubbing like we both don’t go to bed for ten when we can.”

Ariel winks. “You’ve got yourself a deal. Now, come on, we’ve got things to do, and you’re making us late with all your unnecessary primping.”

“Because I’m that damn good-looking and should accentuate it when I can.”

Ariel rises from the bed wand comes over to pat his shoulder. “Whatever you tell yourself to sleep that night.”

-/-

Killian runs through his practice with ease, and he feels good. He’s seeing the ball clearly, doesn’t feel any aches in his body, and though his opponent has handed Killian’s ass to him on a silver platter many times, he’s feeling good about tonight.

Until he isn’t.

It’s the second set when it happens.

Killian is up a set and has two break points to solidify a lead when he’s running down a forehand and loses his footing on the court. His ankle is the first thing to twist, and before he can think, he’s propelling forward toward the ground.

For the entirety of his life, Killian has been told not to fall on his wrists. It’s the first thing any athlete learns. Hell, it’s the first thing anyone learns, but instinct takes over him in that moment. He’s trying to keep from landing flat on his face, and so he lands on his left wrist.

His fucking left wrist, which has caused him trouble his entire career.

Now, though, as he sits on his courtside chair and the tournament medical examiner touches him, he knows this is worse than any injury he’s had in the past.

Fucking hell, he has to pull out of the tournament.

He doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to play for the rest of the season.

Shit.  

Should have fallen on his face and knocked out his teeth. He could still play with no teeth.

-/-

“It’s a fracture,” a doctor tells him that night as he sits in a hospital bed in nothing but one of those awful paper gowns. “You’ll want to consult with your physicians back in Britain, but I’d say a ten-week recovery at the least, six months at most.”

“That’s not exactly a short time span,” Killian grumbles. “You can’t give me something more exact?”

He shrugs. “I think it’ll most likely be about three months for you, but you won’t know until you start playing again. It’s more the rehab than the recovery that I would worry about.”

“Thank you, Dr. Weissman,” Rob tells the doc, dismissing him before Killian can take the piss out of the man for doing his job. Dr. Weissman nods and leaves the room, and all that’s left are Killian, Rob, and Ariel. Nemo is back at the hotel, probably watching the video of Killian ruining their season over and over again. “How are you feeling, Jones?”

“Just peachy,” he lies, flashing them his brightest smile before it falls. He pushes his hair back and yanks at the strands, pulling hard enough for it to hurt. “Fuck.”

What has he done to himself?

People are playing longer now, but what if he isn’t one of those? What if this is the injury that begins the slow deterioration of his career? The one that whittles him away from a great player to a star trying too hard to hang onto his shine?

He hates himself for even thinking that because it’s conceited and self-loathing and all the other things he’s tried not to be lately. He was the one who had to talk Emma through something similar, to tell her that the pregnancy wouldn’t be the end of her career, that one day she’d be standing at the top of the podium again with a shiny trophy in hand.

It all felt so convincing when he was telling her that.

But he’s also an asshole who can seldom take his own advice.

And what Emma is going through is much harder than what he is, so how dare he even compare the two situations?

Seriously.

Fuck.

-/-

February 2015. 

David picks him up at the airport in Florida, but it could have been a stranger and Killian wouldn’t know the difference. He’s been moping on a plane for twenty-four hours and doesn’t notice much of anything.

That is until he walks in the front door of his home and is wrapped in the tightest embrace he’s ever felt. Emma, like always, smells of vanilla and flowers, and he inhales her scent. It’s been a month without it, and he never wants to lose it again. Her hand comes into his hair, scratching down to his skull, and she pulls him as close as possible, her stomach pressed between them. She’s seven months along now, was six when he left, and the difference feels almost impossible to describe.

He tries not to think of all he’s missed, not when he’s back in her arms once more.

What a beautiful place to be.

He’s thought that his world was falling apart, that he had no control over anything, and it was one disaster after another.

As his uninjured arm run up and down Emma’s back and he continues to breathe in her scent and her warmth, he’s reminded that his world, the most important one, is more solid than it’s been since he lost Liam.

If his brother could see him in this moment, even when his mind and body are at low points, Killian would hope that Liam would be proud of Killian’s accomplishments instead of disappointed in Killian’s failures.

“I missed you,” Emma whispers against his cheek.

“I missed you, too, Swan. You have no idea how much.”

“Are you okay?”

“I will be.” His hand comes to rest in her ponytail. “I promise I will be.”

-/-

The world seems to stop for the both of them, and it’s not just because Killian spends his first week at home moping in bed, watching more TV than he has in years. Emma joins him, lounging with her legs crossed over his, basically using his body to make herself comfortable when her back is sore, and if it weren’t for food delivery services, they likely wouldn’t eat. Well, at the very least, they wouldn’t eat any proper meals. Emma’s doctor wouldn’t like that.

Killian’s doctor, on the other hand, has encouraged him to stay active but to rest his wrist. He’s not supposed to pick up a racket except to lightly hit a few forehands, and he definitely isn’t supposed to do any weight work in the gym lest he wants his arms to become horribly unbalanced.

It’s a change in lifestyle, and Killian hates it.

He obviously still hates himself because he spends a hell of a lot of time online looking at articles and tweets about the Australian Open. Half of them are about him, half are about the eventually winners, and a small sprinkling are about how Emma couldn’t defend her title because of her pregnancy.

That sends him into another spiral, and in the darkness of their bedroom, he reads article after article about how Emma Swan will never come back to the game, about how she’s ruined her career, about how if she does come back, she shouldn’t have a protected ranking because pregnancy is not an injury and does not merit any help in building back a ranking.

Absolute bullshit.

How is the WTA the largest sports organization for women and yet it has no pregnancy protections for its players?

That sets him off more than anything else, and as Killian reads article after article and tweet after tweet, and he hopes to God that Emma hasn’t spent her nights reading this like he has.

What kind of darkness has he stumbled into, and how does he get out of it?

“Get up.”

Killian groans and rolls over, burying his face in his pillow and trying to go back to the sleep he didn’t know he’d fallen into. His head is screaming at him.

“KJ, get up.” He feels Emma’s hands on him, shaking his shoulders, but he ignores her. The last thing he wants to do is open his eyes and get out of bed. “My water broke.”

He immediately flips over and sits up, staring at Emma who is standing over the bed with her arms crossed over her chest. “Are you serious? What are you doing just standing there? Have you called your doctor? It’s too soon for your water to have broken.”

Her eyes roll. “My water did not break. It’s noon, and you’re still in bed. Get up.”

“Now, that’s just cruel. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I didn’t expect for you to be coherent enough to really listen.” Emma sits down on the edge of the bed and leans in to kiss his cheek and brush his hair back. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“Now I’m never going to believe you if you tell me your water has broken.”

Emma shrugs. “Next time I say it, I promise I will mean it.” Her hands wander down his side, moving over his collarbones and through tufts of hair on his chest. She’s always fond of doing that. “Look, I get the moping and the internet doom scrolling. I’ve been through that, and I support you doing whatever you need to do.”

“I feel like there’s a but coming.”

“But,” Emma continues, “this baby girl is coming in two months, possibly less, and I don’t know if you’ve looked in the nursery since you got home, but it’s all boxes and disassembled furniture.”

“You didn’t get to all that while I was gone?” She yanks on his hair, and he grits his teeth to keep from yelping. “Only teasing, love.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t get to it. All of this baby stuff freaks me out and after putting together one railing for the crib and having a hormonal meltdown because I didn’t want it to be my fault if the crib fell apart while she was sleeping in it, I stopped. Figured it’d be better if you were here.”

“So that it’d be my fault if the crib fell apart?”

“Exactly.” She tilts her head toward the bedroom door. “I made you coffee, so get your ass out of bed and lend me a hand.”

He raises his broken, wrapped up wrist. “Was that pun intended?”

“Believe it or not, no.” She leans in to kiss his cheek once more. “I’m not going to kick you while you’re down.”

“You’re just going to kick me out of bed.”

“Exactly.”

His legs slowly drag him out of bed and to the kitchen, where he takes the pain medication he’s allowed to take, downs some water, and drinks his coffee. It’ll be awhile before the caffeine and medication kick in, so he tries to blink himself awake to get rid of the sleepiness and the pain.

It doesn’t work.

He does, however.

Emma’s been up for awhile and has moved all the boxes in the nursery into their own sections. It’s just as chaotic as it was before, but it at least looks a little more put together. Killian settles down in front of the crib, reads through the instructions, and he starts piecing things together while Emma works on the dresser. She flits around the room, helping him when he needs it, and as much as he’d like to say they finish quickly, they don’t. It takes them all morning just to do those two pieces of furniture and for him to fix the roller on the glider, and he’s exhausted.

Maybe he can convince Emma to take a nap with him later.

After he exercises. He has to move a little today. His body hasn’t been this stiff on a non-tournament day in ages.

Okay, so maybe nap first, then exercise. That sounds like a better plan.

“What the bloody hell is this doing in here?” Killian asks. He bends down and picks up Emma’s gold medal, dangling it on his arm, which is a much safer space than the floor under a stack of books where it was.

“Oh, yeah,” Emma hums, “Mary Margaret wanted me to display that in here.”

“Why?”

“Well, she wanted me to put some of my trophies in here, but I said that was weird and probably a little dangerous. But then she suggested we do, like, this little wall collage of some things about us for her. That’s the achievement I’m proudest of, at least professionally, and I figured it would be kind of badass for my kid to know her mom was an Olympian.”

“Is,” Killian corrects while he walks toward Emma and tucks some strands of hair behind her ear. “Her mom is an Olympian. Present tense.”

Emma shakes her head and looks away, eyelids covering those beautiful green eyes of hers. “Was. I don’t know if I’ll ever get back to competition, Killian. I’ve been reading what exactly my body is going to go through, which, big mistake by the way, and I don’t know how I’m going to get back into competition shape to work my way back up to the top. I spent most of my life conditioning my body to be an athlete. I don’t think it knows how to be a mom and an athlete.”

“You’re always going to be an Olympian and an athlete,” he promises, meaning every word, “and it’s not going to be easy getting back. The cards are fucking stacked against you. But if there’s anyone who can persevere through hardship, it’s you. And me and the babe will be right here with you.”

“Except you’ll probably be back on tour traveling again. Hopefully your wrist will be healed soon, way before she comes.”

Killian leans forward and dips his head down to rest his forehead against Emma’s. “I’m staying with the two of you for as long as I can. Can’t get rid of me that easily, Swan. You’re stuck with me for life.”

“That isn’t as appealing sounding as you think it is.”

Killian tilts his head back with laughter before kissing Emma’s temple. He still hasn’t brushed his teeth this morning and has some major coffee breath. He’s surprised she hasn’t kicked him out of the house yet. She surely will if he attempts to kiss her.

“Let’s install these shelves and then go take a nap, yeah? Get rid of all our fears for a little while with sleeping. Maybe we’ll even go for a walk tonight since the neighborhood is now extra secure.”

“Sounds like a plan, KJ. Oh,” Emma gasps, moving away from him and reaching into a basket to pull out an old book. “I meant to tell you this, but I was shopping for books online and I found one from when I was a kid. I used to read it in the foster system, and I don’t know, it would bring me comfort. I thought maybe it would be a good name for her.”

She hands him the book, and he looks over the cover, reading the words written in large print.

“Olivia,” he whispers, sounding out the name on his tongue. “Olivia Swan-Jones.”

He can’t wait to meet her.

And he can’t wait for her to see what a badass her mom is, and how Emma is definitely going to stand at the top of that podium again.

Hopefully he is too.

-/-

-/-

tag list: @capthamm​ @qualitycoffeethings​ @klynn-stormz​ @scarletslippers​ @jrob64​ @snowbellewells​ @therealstartraveller776​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @sherifemma​ @galaxyzxstark​ @galadriel26​ @idristardis​ @karenfrommisthaven​ @teamhook​ @spartanguard​ @searchingwardrobes​ @jamif​ @shireness-says​ @ultimiflos​ @nikkiemms @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @superchocovian​ @killianswannn​ @carpedzem​ @captainkillianswanjones​ @mayquita​ @marrtinski​ @mayquita​ @mariakov81​ @jennjenn615​ @onceuponaprincessworld​ @a-faekindagirl​ @scientificapricot​ @xellewoods​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @stahlop​ @kmomof4​ @tiganasummertree​ @singersdd​ @tornadoamy​ @cluttermind​ @lfh1226-linda @itsfabianadocarmo​ @iam2307​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @kktabjones​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @ouatxxxxx​

[steamedlem0ns]

Adventures in Goth Sitting: Chapter 1

Bucky X Original Chubby Female Character, Nickname: Morticia

Word Count: ~1400

Warnings: cursing, soul sucking, general buffoonery, Bucky being a sweet shit, discussion of cannabis use (future chapters to include angst, love, canon compliant gore, occult activity, sex, dom/sub relationships, breeding (no pregnancy involved), and more.)

Rating: PG-13 (each additional chapter will be XRated )

Part two:

Author’s Note: Hi! Thanks for stopping by and I really hope you enjoy the first chapter of this fic. I’ve got some big things planned and I just really hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing it.

Rule 1: Your Goth requires darkness or shade, at all times. Bright, hot spaces are to be avoided without explicit permission.

You could cook an egg on the sidewalk. I was half tempted to at this point. My entire body was sticky and covered in a layer of sweat thicker than I’d ever been covered in before. My dress stuck to my body uncomfortably and I knew I was going to have chaffing on my calves from these boots.

“You better have a good goddamn reason for bringing me out here, Barnes.” I snapped.

Bucky was ahead of me cutting through a line of ivy to clear a path. I saw his back curl in a chuckle.

We’d had this discussion. When Natasha left for missions, I was his to watch. Couldn’t be trusted on my own apparently. You suck the literal soul out of a skeeze for touching you inappropriately once out on the streets and suddenly you need a court mandated babysitter. Bullshit.

I’d much rather be in my cozy nest in my room, Watching Simpsons and smoking several bowls. Maybe I’d pop some popcorn and order Thai for dinner. Treat myself to a nice relaxing afternoon. But, no. I’m stuck out in the middle of bum fuck Egypt for no apparent reason with the closest thing in existence (to my knowledge) to an incubus. The man was six foot five inches of pure sex and just radiated big dick energy.

Currently though, fuck him. Not in the good way.

“The stop is just up here, Morticia. You bring your bathing suit like I told you to?” Condescension dripped off his voice like honey. I motioned to the pack on my back with an eye roll, thankfully hidden by my sunglasses and hat.

I followed him up the hill and through the thicket of fully green trees. The terrain began to level out and we approached what looked like a cliff.

“Absolutely, fucking not Barnes. Did you really bring me out here to jump to my death? Ready to get rid of me, already?”

I knew he wasn’t my biggest fan, in fact, that was the reason Natasha picked him as back up. She thought there’d be less of a chance of me using my “wiles” to get my way. I gently reminded her, I learned from the best.

Bucky stopped and smiled, propping his hands on his hips. I could see a thin layer of sweat on his brow and felt instantly jealous of that damn serum running through him.

“I brought you out here to let go. You’re too wound up. You either hole yourself up alone or seclude yourself in Nats room. She’s tired of it. Frankly, I’m tired of listening to her bitch. So, doll, you’re go behind that tree and change - gentleman’s honor, I won’t peek - and then, we’re gonna jump off this cliff, together.”

I rolled my eyes and pulled off my sunglasses. If men have one thing, they have the audacity.

“I’m not cliff jumping with you, you goat fucker.”

Oof. Too much. Bucky’s face twisted in this sick half smirk half scowl and he advanced on me. I stumbled backwards, catching a boot on a rock and fell back on my ass. My tailbone stung and I looked up, bleary eyed to see a very angry James Barnes staring at me. He kicked the rock out the way and laughed.

“Am I making you fall for me already, sweetheart?” He mocked. Bucky knelt and grabbed the front of my dress, yanking me up and leveling my eyes with his.

“Go get fucking changed. I won’t tell you again.” He let me go and I landed with a sharp thud. I watched stunned as he just walked away to the ledge again and stripped off his shirt. There was NO way he’d catch me staring. Not after that. The consistent ache between my legs told me that if I wasn’t careful, something bad was going to happen. I picked myself up and adjusted my now, stretched dress. There was a large, old tree nearby and I decided to use that as cover. Believing that Bucky would keep his eyes to himself felt so far away at this point. But, the shiver that thought sent up my spine made me immediately put that fantasy to rest. I changed quickly, pulling my boobs in the cups of the black bikini and sending a prayer to the gods they’d stay there. I tied up my top and bottoms and adjusted the back. The skimpy garment was a great choice at the time of purchase. I would have never thought I’d End up here.

A moment later I mustered the courage to leave my hiding spot. I stuffed my clothes into the bag and slipped on my flip flops.

“Put your bag by the Boulder on your right.”

Bucky called. He never looked over. I did as he said and walked to him. My Heart pounded against my ribs almost painfully. Bucky finally turned his gaze toward me. With a huff and s jaw tick he held out his flesh hand to me.

“You good, Buck?” I asked.

He nodded, “Yeah, I’m good.” He certainly wasn’t. But, I took his hand and we walked to the edge. I could see for miles. Endless green and blue sky, wonder and beauty for miles. Untainted majesty in the middle of New York.

“I’ve wanted to do this for years. Never found the right partner. So.” Bucky looked at you, “wanna jump with me, doll?”

I nodded way too many times. I gripped his hand tighter and he moved us to the edge.

“Okay, we’re going to back up seven steps and then when I say go, run. Don’t let go.”

We went flying, Through the air, like two of the strangest birds. No wings, no way to keep themselves up.

We crashed. Pummeling through the cold water together. I felt Buckys hand slip from my own as we went under. I was consumed. The impact jostled my senses and I struggled to gain stability under the water. As I thrashed, trying to force myself up I felt a hand grab my arm.

Bucky pulled me to the surface and we swam to shore. We both heaved and fought for our breaths for a few moments before raucous laughter broke out.

“You said you wouldn’t try to kill me.” I chided. He cackled. I tried desperately to catch my breath.

“Good?” Bucky asked. His voice sounded genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, ugh. Just, need to breathe.”

We sat like that for what felt like forever. Watching the sky and resting our lungs, we warmed beneath the sun. After a few moments, I pulled myself up and sat cross legged.

“Why’d you agree to do this?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“Why did you agree to be my “escort” when Natasha isn’t around?” I asked him again. After months I still hadn’t figured that out. Usually, he stayed as far away from me as possible, even when he was supposed to be with me. I would walk into a room and he would leave. It’s not like he ever went far, I could always feel his eyes burning into me - but, he never made the effort to even stay around me.

“I know what it’s like to lose control. I’ve been unfair to you, honestly. I know you think I hate you, doll, but I don’t. I’ve been in therapy for a bit…” I turned to look at Bucky as he continued, “working on myself. Figured out that I was projecting my own fears onto you. Some shit my therapist said anyway. You can’t be expected to take shit from people for all your life and never fight back. I didn’t see some soul eating witch and I don’t. I see a woman who is tired of being treated like dirt and she fought back. She just happens to be able to eat souls.”

The tears formed quick, They burnt hot like betrayal in my eyes. I was so wrong about him. God, I was wrong.

I reached my hand over and covered his metal one with my own flesh fingers.

“Thanks, Mr. Roboto.”

Amendment to Rule Number One: when gothsitting in the heat, consider water. Results will vary.

[scrimmification]

taking a self care day and was instantly hit with temptation so u know what. here’s that dhurkemara essay. but it’ll be under a cut because i’m polite like that

the following is some canon facts sprinkled in with mostly my own headcanons and opinions. but i’m right about everything. cw for mentions of trauma and aa6 spoilers.

i should actually start this by saying that i see a lot of polycule dhurke/amara/jove or dhurke/amara/datz and while it is cute i feel a bit weird about using a poly relationship as just a “oh he has two hands” solution to love triangles. not that poly relationships aren’t valid, but it’s usually just people putting characters together without thinking about how the dynamic would even function. as if a polycule is a band-aid solution.

but that’s not important because this essay is about why dhurke and amara should just be friends (post SOJ)

i do not respect capcom or its canon, but here’s a bunch of canonical soj facts that are kinda fucked up;      - when nahyuta is born, amara is 19 and dhurke is 20      - when the palace fire breaks out, amara is 21 and dhurke is 22      - there’s a gap of approximately 8 years of time where dhurke thinks amara is dead before they reunite and have rayfa (they’re each around the age of 30 at the time)      - there’s a period of time anywhere from 9 months - 1 year that they’re living together again before rayfa and amara are both kidnapped      - following this, dhurke never sees his wife ever again

because i have extreme brainrot, i sat down and feasibly considered the amount of time they would’ve been together. like, genuinely face to face together. if you only take into account the numbers the game gives you, then that means out of 25 years of marriage, they only see each other for about 3 of them. i tend to tack on an extra year or so for dating, but that’s still a really short amount of time, with almost all of it being before the palace fire ever happened. not to mention, they married incredibly young, and amara is royalty. typically royal families will push for children to be wed as soon as they come of age. 

there’s also the fact that canonically, dhurke was not wealthy to any degree. he mentions in a throw away line having a bunch of weird odd jobs including both farmer and street performer (side note, street performer dhurke is hilarious). considering amara was basically hailed as a goddess by virtue of existing, i kind of doubt they were childhood friends or anything before that. my own hcs for how they met and got married initially tend to fall into a romeo and juliet style of mushy romance. plucky lawyer steals the heart of the queen with his humble charm and promises to whisk her away kind of thing. idk i do actually think they were very in love when they were younger, and maybe like... TOO in love, but my essay and thoughts tend to skew towards characterization through how the two of them grow through their traumas. so let’s just go in order of events here;

the palace fire

i do not care what capcom tries to tell me, dhurke has burns. if amara has a giant chest mark from being in the fire for a very short amount of time, dhurke would have full body burns from literally breaking into and out of a burning building. do you know how hot fire is? it’s fucking hot. it’s also genuinely terrifying. my point is i hc dhurke has some form of pyrophobia.

the years after the palace fire and before rayfa is born aren’t given much canon information, but it is stated that amara is convinced dhurke was out to kill her and willingly lives in the palace outside of the public eye. she’s convinced that dhurke is evil and was trying to kill her for at least twice as long as they were married. that kind of skews your perception of a person, no matter how much you might have once loved them. even if you STILL love them, it’s different. feelings change with time, and i think that’s a really fun thing to explore in fiction. 

the rescue/rayfa’s birth

so here’s where i add the drama. just sprinkle it in. there’s a very sneaky line in the game that they kind of slip in during dhurke’s recounting of events around the time rayfa was born, and i have not stopped thinking about it for 2 years.

so plot wise, when apollo presses dhurke about lying about amara being dead, he talks about how he (somehow) got a tip that amara was alive and still being held in the palace. he broke in to save her and potentially run away with her, datz, and and nahyuta into safety, but they add something else in there. dhurke has a moment where he says she didn’t initially believe his innocence. and it’s kind of just played as a joke.

but because i like conflict and i do not write dhurke the same hyper-toxic-masculine way they do in canon because i think Men Should Be Allowed To Have Feelings i thought. man that must fucking suck. everyone in the entire kingdom thinks he’s the devil, and the one person he’s been doing it all for the sake of - his wife - initially doubts his innocence. of course this is obviously an understandable response. she was basically trapped and gaslit for nearly a full decade over an event that nearly cost her her own life (and would have to instead come to terms with the fact her own sister wanted her dead) but like it still. it would still suck to hear that from your spouse?

they were together for under a year, and in this time rayfa was born. this is probably my favorite window of time to explore a dhurke and amara relationship adapting because they would be such different people now. time already effects how you personally grow and adapt, but the kind of horrors they went to would drastically change them both. neither of them would be the same kids they fell in love with, and dhurke had just shipped one of his kids to america in an attempt to protect him. he’d already be down bad, but to have to deal with that, his wife not fully trusting him, nahyuta not knowing their own mother and most likely not trusting her initially, and also an entire pregnancy... that’d be an incredible amount of stress, on top of the fact they’re both living under the law. 

(sidebar; because of how weird they had to twist the timeline to make it so apollo was gone before rayfa was born so they never met, i tend to headcanon this as dhurke trying to send both his kids to america to protect them, but not being able to initially send nahyuta because of their royalty status, and it quickly becoming too late.)

something else that confused me was why the hell they’d even have another kid while they’re both trying to save themselves, and that... uh. okay maybe this is an unpopular thing to say in terms of headcanon, but i actually believe rayfa was an accidental birth. like logistically, if you see your wife for the first time in almost a decade, you’re going to do Something. and you don’t have protection in the mountains. i’m just. i’m just saying.

but all of that being said, more than anything, i think they’d still be in love during this point. or more accurately, i think they’d be trying to convince themselves they’re still in love. they wouldn’t be the same people anymore, but the only thing dhurke has left is his family. it’s the thing he’s fighting for, and amara would have just been told she can’t go back to her sister for her own safety. there’s this kind of pressure to stay together for both themselves and their kids. there’s also a part where dhurke implies that the two of them were planning on trying to escape khura’in together and cross country lines before shit hits the fan.

turnabout revolution

so if you’re a coward who actually considers canon, after rayfa and amara get kidnapped, dhurke never sees them again. sure, he gets spirit channeled by amara in the final trial, but he never sees her face to face, or gets a chance to speak with her. if you’re like me and simply refuse to believe your favorite characters die, then that means there’s a 14 year gap between the next time dhurke and amara speak to each other.

what’s the first thing amara does when they see each other again? accuse him of murder.

in fairness, she’s under threat of blackmail to do so. she’s trying to protect both her children at this point, and clearly had a role to play in inga’s murder herself that she doesn’t want to admit to. but at the same time, when apollo reveals that dhurke was actively hiding evidence because he still loved her, she seemed genuinely surprised. this revelation is the thing that gets her to actually go against ga’ran’s plot. there’s also the obvious point of her picking her children’s safety over dhurke’s entire revolution, and what he’s been working on for her sake for most of his life. and honestly I thinks she made the right and most understandable choice. the real part that makes me think they wouldn’t get back together after the events of soj (provided dhurke isn’t an epic ghost guy) is,

amara chooses her own safety over dhurke’s, while dhurke chooses her safety over his own.

dhurke’s a very hopeful character, a very jovial one. throughout all his screen time, there’s no point where he genuinely thinks nahyuta has betrayed him. there’s no point where he thinks apollo isn’t capable of handling the case without him. he clearly cares a lot about his family, and would do anything for them. this includes amara. he’s not asked to hide evidence for her sake, he just does it. at the risk of undermining his entire revolution and destroying it entirely, he tries to hide evidence that’d implicate his wife of murder.

amara’s more of a realist. she doesn’t give up information until she absolutely has to. she doesn’t even admit to loving dhurke until the last moment she’s on screen. the only lines in the game she has as herself are during the trial, and half the time she’s just telling everyone how horrible and awful and terrible her husband was. and again, i must say, this would probably suck to hear.

the aftermath

the country is kind of a little fucked after soj. sure, it ends on a positive note, kind of, but there’s both a lot of political stuff to fix. and a lot of family stuff to fix. dhurke basically has to rebuild his relationship with every single one of his family members (and in rayfa’s case, from scratch). while I do think marriage is important and stuff, I don’t think it’d be... the most important.

what i’m saying is i think they’d be friends. even if they stayed married, they’d have to relearn almost everything about each other. they haven’t seen each other in forever, and also amara just threw dhurke under the bus. that’d sting! i think he’d forgive her for that, but it’d sting. knowing your partner would have willingly let you and your entire cause go up in flames sucks. it all sucks. soj is a very downer aa game.

and also i value m/f friendship a lot. i value older adult relationships a lot. i value exploring unfortunate and uncomfortable themes in learning to grow as a person and dealing with your own trauma a lot. i think there’s a lot to explore in characters like dhurke and amara. alot of people prefer thinking about the relationships between nahyuta and apollo and rayfa as siblings, which is great! but... i don’t know. i really like fictional dads. i like thinking about him getting more time with his kids. i like thinking about amara learning to become a person instead of a revered goddess. i like them becoming real people instead of just figureheads in a political war.

also i think dhurke and datz should kiss because they raised kids together in the mountains for 20 years

[i-like-5sos]

Awesome Can you make one where Ashton has a 16 year old sister and her boyfriend has sex with her without consent and has a baby and her boyfriend leaves her and Ashton and the boys help her get ready for the baby,the day the baby is born she has a boy and she names it fletcher after Ashton who she looks up to and adores!!

Hi there ! Thank you so much for the request :) <3

Anything For You

POV: Ashton Irwin 

Word Count: 1991 (short and sweet)

Warnings: Swearing, one reference to the cause of pregnancy (nothing detailed at all).

Summary: Ashton’s younger sister finds herself pregnant and he supports her throughout her pregnancy with the help of Calum, Luke, and Michael.

A/N:  So just so everyone reading knows, I have taken it upon myself to not include anything that has happened before the 5th month of this character’s pregnancy as I believe it could be triggering to readers. I did however, include everything else you’ve requested :) I hope you all enjoy!

5 Months In - Gender Reveal Ultrasound

As I sit in the waiting room, tapping my fingers on the hard plastic armrest of the uncomfortable chair I find myself in, I begin to notice the pattern my eyes have made darting between the clock, the door she left through, and the model uterus that sat on the table across the room. It’s been about 25 minutes since she went to find out the gender of her baby, and I feel like I might actually be going insane in this room. I sigh deeply and pull out my phone for the fifth time to try to distract myself again. I notice a text from Calum asking if we know the gender yet, and I quickly send a reply letting him know that there’s been no updates and that they wouldn’t let me in the room with her.

15 minutes pass and finally I hear the door open and watch as my sister enters the room and smiles wildly at me. Is it too soon to say she’s glowing? Maybe. But I swear to god she is.

“So? What are you having?” I say too loudly, drawing the attention of the very pregnant woman sitting next to the uterus.

“Calm down Ash,” She laughs softly, “I’ll tell you in the car to save these poor people the damage to their ear drums.”

…

I practically run to the car and unlock it quickly before sitting down in the driver’s seat and wait for her to join me. She takes her time walking over, smiling to herself at the obvious torture she’s putting me through at this moment.

What feels like an eternity later, she joins me in the car, sitting in the passenger’s seat. Before she even has the door shut, I’m asking her again about the results of the ultrasound. She chuckles and looks towards me before covering her ears.

“It’s a boy!”

“Ohmygod!” I shout out and crash into her hard, hugging her as best as I could manage around the center console of the car.

As I pull back, I remember the surprise I have waiting for her in the backseat.

“Wait here.” I say as I hold up a finger and quickly dash out of the car to the trunk to grab her the gift.

I return with the small piece of folded-up fabric.

“You said you weren’t going to be crazy about this” She said shaking her head.

“That doesn’t sound like me at all. I was clearly lying.” I chuckle as she shakes her head. “Just humor me.” I pass her the small white fabric piece.

I watch with joy as she unfolds the infant-sized shirt. Her eyes water slightly as she reads the writing on printed on the front – ‘mama’s boy’. She smiles softly as she looks back to me.

“Ashton this is too cute. I can’t wait to see him in it…. How did you know it would be a boy though?”

“As much as I would love to admit that I have the ability to predict the future… I didn’t know. I actually have another in the trunk that says, ‘mama’s girl’ as well.” I say and shrug.

She laughs and looks down at the shirt once more before putting it close to her chest and smiling softly again.

“I love it, thank you so much.”

“Anything for you”

 8 Months In – Baby Shower

“Luke just texted saying they’re here. Get over here Mike!” I say loudly to Michael, who’s been eating the majority of the blue cupcakes at the small snack table we’ve set up.

He quickly joins Calum and I under the archway made of blue balloons near the gate, and we wait for the sound of Luke’s car doors shutting. I chuckle softly as her voice becomes more and more clear as they approach the back gate.

“Luke, can you please just take off my blindfold. I promise I won’t tell Ashton... Call me crazy but I think there’s a rule that says pregnant people can’t walk around blindfolded.”

“No way. The blindfold was my idea. And I don’t see any pregnancy rule books here so I’ll be the one making the rules.” Luke replies as he opens the gate and then guides my younger sister towards the three of us. “Okay we’re here… now don’t move. You can take it off in three… two…” He lets go of her arm and quickly runs over to stand with us. “one!”

She pulls of blindfold off and her face immediately lights up as she takes in the baby shower wonderland that once was Calum’s backyard. The large balloon archway, the table overflowing with gifts from the four of us, the diaper cake, the actual cake covered in baby blue icing surrounded by different blue themed snacks, the blue streamers and balloons covering the entire backyard and, of course, the table containing all kinds of baby shower games the four of us were able to find online.

“Guys! You shouldn’t have! I had my baby shower last week! You know this… You were there!”

“Yeah but… it sucked. There were no balloons and the only snack you had were pretzels… who even likes pretzels?” Michael says shrugging. “And besides, we’ve had this planned from the moment you and Ashton face timed us revealing little Michael Junior’s gender.”

“Michael, how many times does she have to tell you that she’s not naming him Michael Junior? We all know the little guy’s name is going to be Calum Junior.” Calum interjects and gets a swift shove from Michael.

“If she’s naming the baby after anyone it’s going to be named after me” Luke says proudly. “I’m the one that brought her safely to the best baby shower anyone’s ever seen!”

She laughs loudly and shakes her head “You guys are too much.”

…

Once all the gifts have been opened, the guys are trying to see how many balloons they can fit into Calum’s pool as we eat our cake and watch them.

“Thank you again for this amazing baby shower.”

“It was worth it to see you smile. You deserve to be happy.”

She sits there quietly for a moment before responding. “You’ve done so much for me over these last 8 months and I just want you to know how thankful I am to you and to the other guys too… I don’t know what I would do without you four.” She says with a layer of sadness to her voice and looks down at her cake.

“Hey now, you’re okay, you’re safe, you’re loved… You both are. We are here for you no matter what. Never forget that.” I say, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze.

Our attention is pulled away from the moment as we hear a loud crash of someone – Luke – falling into the pool, followed by the booming laughter of Calum and Michael.

 9.5 Months In – The Night of The Birth

Everything is black as my eyes fly open in response to the sound of my little sister yelling out my name from the hallway as she bangs on my bedroom door. I shoot out of the bed as quickly as I can once I realize what was happening. I open the door to see her standing there in her pajamas in a pool of liquid on the floor.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Okay. We can do this.” I mumble and rush past her to grab the hospital bag in the hallway and begin down the stairs to get the car keys.

“Ashton.” She calls out to me from the top of the stairs.

I turn back to see her staring at me with fear and impatience on her face. Oh right. I run back up the stairs to help her walk down them and continue my mission to the front door. I throw my shoes on, grab the keys, and unlock the door. I begin mentally planning our route to the hospital while trying to decide whether to call or to text the boys once we were on our way, and I pause to take a moment to try and figure out what time it was in Australia to determine whether or not we’d wake up mom with our call... What time is it here?

“Ashton!” She says loudly, snapping me out on my haze.

“What? What did we forget? We have the bag and the keys, and you…” I mentally go over the checklist we had mad a few weeks ago for this exact moment.

“Your shirt maybe?” She says, gesturing to my bare chest.

“Fuck. Okay yeah maybe I need that.” I pat the pockets of my pajama pants and realize my phone is still charging in my room. “Might need my phone too… I’ll be right back.”

I dash back up the stairs, taking two at a time. As I get to my room, I grab the first shirt I see and quickly unplug my phone before running back down to join my sister at the front door.

“Okay, fully clothed. Now let’s go.”

9.5 Months In – After the Birth

As I stare at this beautiful child in my little sister’s arms, I can’t help but smile softly at the site before me. I’m an uncle! The sound of the boys entering the room pulls my eyes from the ball of sweetness before me.

“Oh my god… He’s so small!” Luke says, darting to the newborn.

“Look at him! So precious! How are you after… you know… birth and whatnot?” Calum asks, sitting down on the edge of the hospital bed.

“Tired” She replies, stretching her back and then smiling back down at her baby.

As we all take turns holding the newborn, we all fall in love with him instantly. How could we not? Michael promises to teach him how to shred on guitar, Calum somehow was able to find a bucket hat for a newborn and has the little guy wearing it, and Luke introduced himself and pretended to shake the baby’s hand.  

“Okay… we’ve waited long enough. What’s his name?!” Michael asks excitedly as Luke hands the newborn back to his mother.

“I gave it a lot of thought and I finally decided on a name that I can only hope he will live up to… Fletcher.” She smiles softly as she looks over to me.

I’m speechless as I stare at the young woman I’ve known for the entirety of her life and have loved for every second of it. She has chosen to name her child after me. Me. I am truly honored as a tear slips out of the corner of my eye. I wrap my arms around her and Fletcher and hold the two of them, stunned.

As I let go and sit down in the chair beside the bed, I look back at the two of them.

“I don’t have the words to tell you how I feel right now. I am truly honored.” I finally manage to say.

“You have helped me through the worst days of my life… and you’re still here with me on the best day of my life. Ashton, you helped me more than I could ever say. I wanted my son to be proud of his name, and I know that the more he knows you, the prouder he will be. You’re my role model and I would be proud to have a son that grown up to be half the man you are.” She smiles at Fletcher, and then at me.

I get up to hug them both again and kiss my sister on the forehead. “Thank you so much” I whisper softly.

“I guess Fletcher’s a nice name… I still like Michael Junior though.” Michael jokes.

We all laugh together as we sit in the hospital room and continue to fall in love with Fletcher.

[dreamdropxoxo]

OMG I just saw your post that says you finished Basket of Figs and so somehow my brain refuses to believe that this story will end ( probably because my brain is 50% plush and 50% shark most of the time 😅)

I mean I know there‘s still chapters for me to look forward to but I also mean you think I want it to go on forever because I love it so much. Chapters 20-23 were once again sooo very sweet and perfect and I‘m still heavily in love with the entire story 🥰 And I know I‘ve been rambling about how I love it for a while now but it‘s true! This story is my regular dose of happy Lamen fluff and it makes me happy ☺️

Even though every time Laurent‘s education is brought up, I have a visceral urge to slap his father over the head. With a mallet. The uncle too. Just for good measure 😬 My poor baby 😢 But then I tell myself that everything’s fine now and he has Damen who loves him so much and will do everything for him and then I start to grin like a silly shark 🙃

I really hope Aleron‘s not going to be an ass towards Juliette 🥺

Hey my dearest plush shark anon 😍

So nice to read from you! 

Ah, I know how you feel. I’m feeling just the same thing. I mean how can it be over now? I’m still sad about it, but at the same time I’m so proud that I managed to finish this rather long project without a hitch and my readers will never have to wait for me 😂 (First time ever that this happened to me!)

Well, I can assure you, even after Basket of Figs I fully intend to write all the Lamen fluff I’m capable of! So, maybe there’s something for you there too. I actually have two projects I’d like to start next (I still need to decide which one is better as the heir to BoF). But I promise there will be more fluff. 

Regarding education, I think Aleron would deserve even worse. But at least Laurent will be able to do better with his own children (yes, plural 😂). Damen is a great husband and he loves Laurent dearly, so we don’t have to worry anymore. 

And I think Auguste would rather kill him than let him insult Juliette. ❤️

Your message made me so happy and I have a little something under the cut for you (although today the story will be updated xD So, I chose from a later chapter!)

Goodness, but the omega looked breathtaking. The pale blue dress made his eyes sparkle like jewels and draped over his swollen belly beautifully. Damen wanted to bury his face in the long, pale neck exposed by the pinned up golden locks and suck marks into the skin for hours. Laurent didn’t look as if he was in pain or afraid, the bond between them was calm and Damen knew there was no need to worry, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Are you alright, my love?” He forced the words out of his mouth. His jaw was still clenched, which made talking difficult. Laurent tilted his chin up and observed him closely with a furrowed brow.

“I’m fine, Damen. Cramps in this stage of the pregnancy are normal. It’s nothing to worry about and they’ll pass in the matter of seconds. It’s because I sat for too long in the same position.”

Damen blanched. His mate had spent the last days in the carriage without a break. Obviously this wouldn’t be advisable, would it? 

Laurent, clearly anticipating his thoughts, interrupted his spiral into despair, “Don’t. Please. I’m fine. I just want to get home. Maybe we could take a break a little more often so that I can walk around the carriage, but don’t you dare blame yourself. I’m perfectly alright and the baby is too.”

He looked around and when he realized how sheltered they were behind the carriage, the blond stepped closer and touched his fingers to Damen’s jaw. “Relax, my dear. We’re fine.”

- Basket of Figs, Chapter 29

[hecohansen31]

Loving You Is A Losing Game

Ivar+WIfe! Reader (Vikings! Era)

Chapter 1; Alcestis.

“Admetos, I am dying. This is my last request of you, so listen well. Of my own free will I gave my life to let you live. I am dying for you, Admetos, but I did not have to die. I could have chosen otherwise”

“Alcestis” by Euripides

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I was actually supposed to write this after ‘To Kill a King’ as a sequel, but in the end I just loved so so much this idea that I couldn’t stop myself from writing in order to wait.

Still I know that this fic might seem ‘similar’ to some others I wrote, so I am very anxious for any feedback you mgiht want to send my way, because as always not only it helps my writing but it makes me write faster!

Have a nice day!

SUMMARY:  Everything in your life is falling apart: your husband might face the extreme punishment for is treason and be executed, and whenever you try to convince him to beg for forgiveness, you are pushed away further, unable to recognize the man you loved.

But soon, more worrying things might come and the only way to save yourself and the one you love is to endure and be cunning.

WORDS: 7,78 K

WARNINGS; Unstable Relationship (I think that honestly Reader and Ivar’s relationship is borderline abusive, even more if set up in the modern era, there is no physical violence, but there might be some psychological one so please be careful sweeties), Pregnancy, Talk of Abortion, Mention of Death, Betrayal, Kidnapping Historically Inaccurate, and Not following the series path.

Life with Ivar had never been easy.

But you had loved your husband with the intensity of a million of suns.

And he had loved you back with the same intensity.

And for a certain time, you had had it.

But then his own raising ambition had gotten in the way of it all.

You had always been part of your husband’s planning but this time you had been kept outside of the conjure that had tried unsuccessfully to take over Lagertha’s throne.

They had been betrayed from the inside and your husband had been taken to the prison cells, waiting for the queen to choose what to do with his fate.

But you already know what it would have been.

Death.

And as much as the wound of betraying hurt your heart you couldn’t deny him your love and your prayers as you asked mercy for him to Lagertha.

‘We’ll go in exile, we’ll disappear from your hands, we’ll…’ your voice had broken down with gentle sobs as the queen quickly ushered everyone outside of the Great Hall leaving simply you and her, as she gestured for you to come closer.

‘Sat, my sweet’ she had mumbled gently, as she had moved a few strands of hair away from your face as you gripped tightly on her hand, unsteady on your own feet and your body shaken by your fear of failure ‘… I do think that I could grant that, but your husband would never ever forget a promise’.

‘I’ll convince him!’ you shouted pleadingly, although you were aware that you had had to lie to Ivar to justify your disappearance by his side, told him you’d be seeing your family to assure their support to his cause.

Your family had been the reason why you weren’t sharing his cell, alongside the fact that you had been kept in the shadows about this entire plot.

‘It was to ensure your safety, my sweet’ had commented Ivar as you had asked him why he hadn’t involved you in it ‘… because I need my small bird to continue on chirping in my ear’.

But you had been rudely woken up during the night by burly men asking you if you knew what your husband had done.

And you still weren’t able to properly sleep, taking the offer of staying at your brother’s house, with his wife fretting around meanwhile she waited for her first child.

A painful sight for you, whose stomach was still flat after a year of marriage.

‘You had sworn that you wouldn’t have done anything till I gave you an heir!’ you had protested against Ivar, remembering your words, when he had allowed you a small moment of calmness from the plotting and avenging.

You hadn’t been inclined on motherhood, more interested in the threads behind battles, wanting to enjoy your youth without having to waddle behind children, like your mother had done.

But Ivar had wanted one heir desperately, since it would have cemented his position as the rightful heir of Kattegat, and you had eventually allowed him.

Allowed him to lay his seed inside you.

But after a year of trying, nothing came from it.

And you felt Ivar’s heavy disappointment on you.

Lagertha’s voice brought you back to reality as she raised lightly your chin for you to meet her light eyes, and as much as you had hated her, always sympathetic to your husband’s cause, in that moment you just saw another woman who had been betrayed by her husband.

‘I know that you’ll try, sweet one, you were always a perfect diplomat, but with men like Ivar, you can’t win the game’.

There was an unspoken knowledge due to her own experience with Ragnar in her words and you couldn’t help but sigh loudly, as you gripped your stomach, the reason behind everything, your failure.

‘… I just… I don’t want to see my husband dead’ you moaned in pain at the sole thought as Lagertha gently caressed your cheeks, before she dropped her hands on the table separating you both ‘… he may be cruel and he has the worst temper, but he loves me and…’.

‘Ragnar was the best man I ever knew’ she commented softly, breaking your own train of thought ‘… but he left me, betrayed me for another woman and that made me think about myself, and my children… he may have loved me still, but… that wasn’t enough’.

‘I just…’ your voice broke down, because although Ivar hadn’t betrayed you with any woman, what Lagertha spoke was true.

Your father, an earl, had been disappointed to discover your liaison with the youngest son of Ragnar, the one he, himself, called a ‘deformed monster’.

‘He’ll only break your heart, (Y/N),’ he had said as he downed another cup of mead and you had dismissed his words as the ones of a drunkard who knew nothing of love and feeling ‘… and I won’t take you back when that’ll happen’.

Your brother had also been cold about this relationship, but he hadn’t rejected your offer to give you to Ivar the day of your wedding.

‘If you are so so sure about doing this, I’ll deliver you myself to him, before you do the stupid thing of eloping’.

And although he didn’t say it, you knew that he despised your husband since you had set foot back in his house.

‘… I know that this is hard to understand, but…’ Lagertha now moved her eyes away from you, stealing a small look at the window ‘… sometimes, love is simply not enough’.

And as easy as that, you started crying fully releasing all the sadness you had been holding in yourself for days, well aware that you were breaking down right in front of your husband’s enemy.

He would have thought you weak to do so.

But Lagetha simply collected your tears as she delicately dabbed a piece of cloth on your face, before gripping your hands tight.

‘… I’ll accept the exile proposition, but I don’t think that your husband will ever accept it’ she proclaimed queenly, although her eyes spoke of sympathy, not pity, of somebody who had fallen in the same trap ‘… in that case, he’ll be executed for treason’.

‘I don’t think that I can live without him’ you mumbled, a few sobs interrupting the phrase as you stuttered it out.

‘… you’ll learn to’ she spoke gently and sternly ‘I did, and I am happy… I have Astrid, a new love will come also for you’.

The last words were a whisper from afar to you, as you thanked her almost mechanically for listening to you, as you exited the great hall with a dreadful feeling.

That Lagertha had spoken the truth.

---

You found out soon, as Ivar threw his cup of mead onto the prison bars, some of it staining your dress, a simple fantasy of fabric that used to be Ivar’s favorite, hence why you had worn it to give him the news of the exile.

There had been a time when you were both younger when Ivar had been enchanted by every word you spoke, even going as far as to do the silliest of things because you dared him to.

You kind of missed that power you had on him.

‘We are equals’ he had spoken on your first night of marriage as he had linked your hands ‘… you are the only person I can see standing by my side’.

And now he just threw a cup of mead to you.

“Are you crazy?!” he spoke, as he dragged himself closer to the prison bars, since they had stolen his braces, thinking that they could easily be weapons.

And you were well aware of how much that choice pained him.

“I am just trying to do my best to keep my husband alive!” you retorted, although you backed off slightly, attracting the look of a prison guard.

Pity in his eyes.

“Oh… and let me ask you, my beloved wife, how did you think that sucking mercy from Lagertha’s tits would have saved me?” he spoke arrogantly as he gripped tight the bars, showing you his teeth as he growled those words “… and worst of all… you come here asking for exile!”.

“You said you would have run away with me…” you whispered softly, trying not to alert the prison guard again, as you crouched down at his level, pushing on hand over his as he gave you an annoyed look.

“Only cowards run” he spoke, as he turned his head away from you, but you gripped tighter your hand over his.

“… you could run and we could plan a better way to take Kattegat” you spoke gently, as your eyes shone with hope “… or we could go to exile and then do the same, we’d be both alive, Ivar, that’s all that matters”.

“No no!” he hit with the other hand the bars, making you choke back a breath as your eyes shone with fear “… nothing else matters till I get my crown back and my mother is avenged”.

Although you were well aware that it was what Ivar wanted above anything else, even you, it never failed to pain you deeply.

“… I don’t matter to you, is this what you mean?” your voice trembled and you also turned your head to the side to withhold the tears in your eyes, as you pushed away your hand over his.

It took Ivar a long huff of annoyance before he replied to you.

“Of course, you matter to me, (Y/N)” he mumbled almost scorned by your question “… but there are a lot of things that also do…”.

“I love you, Ivar, you are all that fucking matters to me!” you shouted, as you raised to your feet, annoyed and profoundly hurt by his words “… all I want you is to be fucking safe, is that so hard to understand?”.

And your husband, almost challenged by your shouts, replied.

“And all I wanted was an heir, but your stomach is still flat, isn’t it?” he didn’t even need to raise his voice, because he always knew how to hurt you and you stood there breathing through your nose as you tried to calm yourself.

“… maybe I am not the problem”.

You knew that you had hurt him as you turned and run away.

You had learnt from the best, after all.

---

That night you were restless, enough to startle awake your sister-in-law who came to check on you, worried you might have caught a fever.

But you were cold, almost frozen and eventually she had given you a small drug to allow you to sleep, but it hadn’t last much.

Your nightmares were too strong and for once it wasn’t the worry for your husband, making.

You had dreamt of him as hanged or without his head, but it was you who was the center of the nightmare of tonight.

You were on a table and your legs were open, your dress bunched up as scorching white hot pain went through you, a few women with no faces but white masks were all around you, doing nothing but observing you, as you pleaded with them to help you.

Help you push out your child.

And when the child was out, another pain shot through you as the child was raised by a man, taken away from your screeching arms, holding out for the child, but your entire body was chained and all the white masks were now laughing at you.

Laughing so loudly that they overcame your screams and as you woke up, you immediately retched by the side of the bed, cold sweat all around you, as it stained the clean sheets and both your brother and his wife came immediately to you, helping you calm down as you continued on shouting for your child.

Eventually breakfast had come, and both your sister-in-law and your brother suggested you paid a visit to the healer, so that you could ask her about the dream and maybe plead with her to give you something to calm you down and make you sleep better.

You had refused their company for the small walk, sure and steady now that night didn’t cloud your eyes, always feeling a bit better when you walked, since it helped you clearing your mind.

But you had overheard them as your brother hugged tightly Tala, his soft-spoken wife and mumble:

‘I should have never allowed this, after father died… I shouldn’t have let her marry him’ and then he had grumbled out ‘… I should kill hm for what he is doing to her’.

‘You had no idea of what would be happening’ had suggested Tala and you could almost see the way she would gently bring back behind his ears a few strands of hair, before proceeding to kiss his cheeks ‘… she loved him’.

Tala and Felix had been a match made in heaven and burned of a soft love that would have blessed them with the typical fairytale ending you had always dreaded.

But now… oh… how much you longed for it.

“… he is a bastard who can’t love anything else than himself” had replied bitterly your brother.

And as much as you hated to admit that your brother was right, you knew that he wasn’t completely unaware of who Ivar truly was.

Maybe he knew him better than his lovesick wife.

You had left them to their own domestic intimacy, as you had moved to reach the healer, hopeful that she would give you something to ease your mind, although your mind was so damnably fast and worried that you had already an headache halfway through reaching the healer’s hut.

The healer welcomed you softly, immediately hugging you as she asked you to join her by her table, to consume a bit of food together, since she could already see ‘that you looked pale and tired’.

“… what happened, little bird?”.

Ylva had been a friend of your mother and she had taken care of you after she had passed away from an illness, caring after you and your younger sister, as she had taught you about your first period, how to calm Ivar’s pain with herbs and how to cure any superficial wound.

“My head is just… messy” you muttered well-aware that she probably already knew of the mess Ivar had gotten himself into and how badly you were reacting, although you hadn’t left the town since the start of it.

But rumors were faster than anything else.

She had been one of the few that had supported your relationship with Ivar, mumbling a simple ‘you are good for each other’ as you had brought Ivar to meet her once, making the boy slightly blush under her steely glance.

“… oh sweetie, having trouble sleeping?” she suggested, always knowing what was on your mind “… and eating from what I can see…”.

Since you had started playing with your food, barely able to eat it.

Lately you had felt like your stomach was completely closed, and this situation had been going on for days.

But you had justified it saying that you couldn’t think about eating when your husband was closed off in a cage and risked being executed.

“I am just worried, Ylva” you mumbled, smiling sadly, as she took the plate from you before she replenished a glass with some water, which was the only thing that you could down “… my husband is in chains and last night I had a rather confusing nightmare…”.

“What was it about, sweetheart?” although Ylva tried to keep her tone light you could feel she was worried.

“… I was giving birth… in chains and there were all these people staring at me, doing nothing but staring and then… they took the baby from me…” you mumbled confusedly, but Ylva seemed to follow your train of thought “… I don’t… I just don’t understand why I worry for a child when I should be worried for my husband”.

Ylva’s eyes became soft and a look of pity was shot at you, as she gripped tight your hand, before another went to your flat stomach, to which you sent a small look, even more confused.

“Sometimes our dreams tell us truths we aren’t ready to discover” she explained softly, as she cupped your flatness, almost groping it in an uncomfortable way “… when have you last bleed, (Y/N)?”.

And then it all linked in your mind.

“I am not with child, Ylva” you protested soundly, immediately backing off, as she shot you a stern look.

“… when have you last bleed (Y/N)?” she repeated, as she gripped tight your wrist to keep you still from raising up “… I could feel the change in you but I didn’t think it was because you were with child”.

“Because I am not!” you were starting to become hysterical.

“Just let me run a quick check” she begged, and you couldn’t help but calm down “… if you are not pregnant you have nothing to hide”.

“… alright” you had huffed out as you added “… I haven’t bled in a month but I should in a few days, it isn’t rare for it to be… late”.

It had brought you and Ivar quite a few surprises.

The first time it had happened, you had come to your husband and gently hugged him, smiling on his lips as he brought you in a kiss, surprised by your good humor, but definitely not against it.

‘… what has happened?’ by now you had been married for three months and all your thoughts were sweetened by your conquests in England.

‘I might be pregnant my love’ you had announced softly ‘… I haven’t bled’.

And a few days after you had.

And no matter how much your husband attempted to hide it, you could see the disappointment on his face.

Hence you knew better than to think the lateness in your bleeding to be an indicator of a sure pregnancy.

“Have you felt sore, both in your breasts and… intimate places?” proceeded to ask Ylva “… you have already shown nausea and uneasiness to eat”.

“Ahem… my breasts are swollen…” you hadn’t given it too much thought, again blaming it on your monthly bleeding “… and I am tired, I thought it to be a consequence of many sleepless night, but it isn’t simply… me being sleepy, I just feel so easily without energy”.

“Sweetie, would you lay down for me?” she had asked, before guiding you to her bed, gently raising your skirt to reveal your naked stomach, lowering lightly your underwear as she softly delivered light touches to your stomach, prodding in an almost uncomfortable way “… you are swollen, sweetie”.

“… it might not be because I am with child” you mumbled softly, scrunching your eyebrows “… my bleeding might also cause that”.

Ylva scrunched her nose as some would do with an annoying child and she moved to dip her finger inside you, making you squeal uncomfortable and she soon retrieved her hand, with a smile on her face.

“You are with child, little one” she replied softly “… believe me, you might not believe it, but I can feel it and the more you deny it the more you suffer”.

“I can’t be with child” your scream sounded so damnably cringey that you also cringed at your tone “… it’s just horrible timing! I have been trying to get pregnant for so long and it… they were merrier times, but then… it happens when my own husband is to be executed”.

“A child might ask for mercy…” consoled you Ylva, kissing your forehead, probably happier than you about this new “… both from Lagertha and Ivar”.

“But what if this…” you gestured to your still-flat stomach, although Ylva had been right when she had said that you were swollen “… if this doesn’t change anything?”.

Because Ivar’s own ambition might come even before an heir.

And Lagertha wouldn’t have had any second thoughts simply because you had a traitor’s child in your body.

“… (Y/N)” the healer softly collected your tears, that you realized solely now you were shedding “… there is an herb, it’ll make your stomach… it’ll make it flat again”.

You had heard of it, many thralls used it in case they ended up being pregnant of their masters.

It did the job well, from what you had heard.

But would have Ivar ever forgiven you for such a gesture.

“… I can’t raise this child on my own”.

Because truth was that you didn’t even know if you wanted a child.

Life had always been so freeing without them and although you’d cherish them playing around the market and jumping on their fathers’ laps, you just couldn’t think having one of your own.

You had grown up as the second child, the first daughter of an earl and your mother’s presence had been overbearing to the point that she had eventually fatigued too much herself and it had made it easy for the illness to creep up on her body.

Although you had never held much love for your parents, you feared such an end.

The end of a woman who had never lived fully, just devoted to children that would outlive her and a husband that would join her after mead did its rightful job.

Had Ivar been with you, you would have considered it.

One of the many reasons why you loved Ivar so much was how there always seemed to be a solution for anything according him and that was why you felt definitely lost without him.

“… you wouldn’t be on your own, sweet child” she promised you Ylva, taking your hands “… there would be me, your brother and his wife to help you, you wouldn’t be alone”.

She ripped off the veil that was protecting you and you couldn’t help but shrink in yourself as you mumbled the uneasy truth.

“I don’t even know if I want a child”.

Ylva’s face suddenly become serious and you were painfully aware that infertility had stopped her from having children and you couldn’t help but think how badly she would judge you for having the chance that she didn’t… and ignoring it so abruptly.

“… my sweet that is…”.

“Am I a monster for not wanting it?” you couldn’t help but cry, maybe it was due to the baby, since it was known that babies made women frail, but you couldn’t help but feel this anguish.

This betraying and hurtful feeling that you were being a horrible person.

“Oh no no, you aren’t absolutely little bird” Ylva’s hands gripped her face gently, bringing your shiny and teary eyes to meet hers, a softness in them that hurt you, because you didn’t deserve it “… you are nothing but a child, stuck in a difficult position, I wouldn’t expect you to be blamed for this choice”.

And she kissed your forehead hugging you tightly as you let out the crying fit you hadn’t been having for a long time, that you had denied in a desperate attempt to appear strong in public.

But with Ylva you were, indeed, nothing but a child.

“… shhh shhh, my sweet, you’ll sleep this over, talk with Ivar and then decide” she suggested, as she loosened the hug, kissing your brow as she helped you compose yourself “… do you want me accompany you in Kattegat?”.

You shook your head, as much as Ylva’s presence was comforting, it was clouding your mouth with emotions you had to shoot down and separate from.

“… if you do decide that…” the words seemed to burn on Ylva’s mouth “… if you don’t want to swell, come here again”.

“I’ll think about Ylva” you promised, kissing her hands as a ‘goodbye’ “… thank you, not solely for your check-up”.

“… may the gods be with you, little bird”.

---

You were jumpy on the road back home, your mind shifting on thoughts about you as a mother.

Would you have looked like your tired mother?

Or would you have looked like a different woman, completely?

The latter thought scared you even more because it opened a variety of possibilities that made you think about the worst that could have happened.

Would you have been a horrible mother?

You weren’t even sure of wanting your own child, but what was worse than that was the fact that you doubted that Ivar would have been a good father either.

A man who forgot his family for his ambition, wouldn’t have raised a happy child.

You were so deep in your thoughts that when a soft touch reached your shoulder, you almost jumped immediately turning to the woman, who revealed herself to be Astrid, Largetha’s lover and trusted soldier.

You had seen the blue-eyed woman a few times in the great hall, but she had never approached you, so you were slightly wary of actually talking with her well aware that she hadn’t snooped in for a quick salute.

“… princess (Y/N)” she raised her hands to show you she was unarmed “… I am sorry to have scared you… I just saw you and thought I would introduce myself”.

And maybe snooped in to know what Ivar’s faithful wife was doing so far away from her husband.

“Thank you, Astrid and sorry for bothering you” you mumbled softly, trying to assume your most innocent smile as you softly bower in respect to her.

“What are you doing so far away from your rightful home, princess?”.

Well at least she wasn’t one for silly pretenses.

“I visited the healer Ylva” you explained softly “… I have had trouble sleeping and asked for some herbs that might help me”.

“… your hands are empty” you almost couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her evident questioning, but simply replied with a sickly-sweet smile.

“The herbs I have been suggested isn’t farmed here, Ylva told me I would have found it at the market” you explained quietly, trying not to raise any suspect in the beautiful woman.

Although you had nothing to hide, her gaze made you feel dirty.

And Astrid seemed to realize it backing off both verbally and physically.

“… can I escort you in the city?” ‘to avoid you buying a plan for your husband?’.

“Thank you, lady Astrid” you accepted softly, offering her your right arm, which she accepted gladly “… how are you?”.

“Fine, although I do have to admit that it has been a busy period”.

‘Because of my husband’ you almost wanted to add but simply nodded softly.

“… summer is almost finished, and everybody is rushing in with the last touches for the harvest” you tried to make polite small talk.

“… and soon they’ll start raiding again” mumbled Astrid almost “… we have been training girls who are just desperately waiting to fight…”.

“Ahhh I remember that feeling of the furious energy before a battle”

Although you weren’t a shieldmaiden having grown with two older brothers had taught you what you needed in the fighting field, and you had fought a few times, whenever your family was involved and alongside that before Ivar started being stubborn and stopped you from joining battles.

‘You are my wife, now, (Y/N)!” he had shouted at you, as you had protested against him forbidding you to take a stand on the battlefield “… everybody will know that and they’ll aim for you to hit me”.

And you had accepted to step behind, pulling the threads of every operation behind his actions.

It suited you more, since your mind was twice as sharp as Ivar’s.

“… oh yeah, I tend to forget that you used to fight, princess” and it would be ever more difficult for you to do it again, if you kept the baby “… have you ever thought to come back to it?”.

A huff pained your lungs as you coughed lightly to hide your uneasiness.

“… I’d love to, but I do think that the gods have chosen my spot to be behind the battlefield” you mumbled softly, the perfect depiction of the loyal wife.

“I was told that you are the reason behind many great victories back in England” she mumbled, admiration shining in her eyes “… your husband, Ivar, never ever failed to shout about it during feasts”.

You laughed, because that was the Ivar you had fallen in love with.

The energetic and idiotic boy that would make you blush because he thought you were the best person ever.

His beloved (Y/N).

Sometimes you asked yourself if marriage had been what had ruined it for both of you and him.

You had married each other just after your father had died, you were nothing more than sixteen and Ivar was barely a bit older than you, and your marriage hadn’t born from actual thought but from your own need to show others wrong.

You, your father, Ivar, everybody else.

And although effectively nothing else had changed, you still couldn’t help but feel like with the marriage and the official recognition of your union had put you and Ivar through useless obstacles.

Such as him stopping you from joining the battle or wanting a child.

You had just made everything more complex.

“… you could teach the girls a few things…” mumbled Astrid surprising you “… you are as young as them so your voice will be both fresh and experienced”.

You couldn’t help but listen to your heart pounding at such a proposal.

It was definitely something that stroked your ego and your brain, as you nodded softly, not thinking about Ivar in a cell, or your heavy ring.

“I’ll think about it”.

“That’d mean the world for the girls” she promised you but didn’t push it because immediately you both heard a strange noise, something that low key made you nervous and stood on your guard.

You shared a quick look with her, and both moved to watch each other’s shoulders.

“… do you have a weapon on you?” she asked reaching out for her pocket, but before she could reach for her knife she was knocked back from a man, who you had just the time to look in the eyes, before you were also hit on the back of your head.

And all you could was tuck and arm over your belly to protect the child you didn’t know whether you wanted or not.

---

His heart ached at the thought of you.

Of your last, unpleasant, parting.

The way he had thrown accusations in your face, when you already were already hurt for everything that had happened.

Because of him.

And not because of you.

But you had wounded his ego.

You had suggested him to just flee like a coward, leaving his mother unavenged and his rightful territories.

But yet, would it have been worth it?

He wasn’t scared of his death.

He had almost longed for it on certain days, when pain was all he knew.

But with you in his life he couldn’t help but think about what would have happened to you as a widow.

You’d move on certainly after his death, you were smart enough to live on your own but, not only the thought of another man having you made him go crazy, but he knew the pain you’d go through.

And if there was one thing that Ivar hated more than anything was to see you in pain.

But his blind pride offered no other solution.

And being stuck in a prison cell didn’t help.

What would have made the difference was you being pregnant.

An heir would have stabilized his position on the throne.

Lagertha’s claim was weak and bloody, and an heir such as Bjorn was problematic to say the least since it could have had many repercussions, because of his wandering ways.

But Ivar with his strong mind and his victories, and a healthy baby to continue the succession would have been far more accepted.

But that blessed child had never appeared, in over a year of wedding, something that was starting to get on his own damnable nerves, although he didn’t blame you, fully, you were healthy and young.

He was the problem.

Maybe his prick might work with you, but his seed certainly didn’t, not taking its seat in you and blossoming in a baby, something that was a motive of shame for him.

What would others think of it?

But maybe it was some kind of ‘blessing’: the gods didn’t want any more cripples.

Whatever it was, it had made him snap at you, and with the look of disappointment you had sent his way, he doubted that you’d ever come back to discuss again with him, even more since you had spoken the silent truth.

That maybe he was the fault.

That maybe he was the origin of all your problems.

While he was saddening himself with all the bad thoughts he could find, suddenly he heard a noise and immediately turned to see in what the hell the prison guard had stumbled, but as he turned to look around, he saw the guard…

… a bloody hand at his ripped throat and behind him a big silhouette, which quickly stole the keys to the prison, and Ivar rushed to grab the small pointy wood he had shaped during these days of boredom.

But the man inched closer to him calmly.

“Ivar…? Ivar, son of Ragnar?” he called out and Ivar didn’t know whether to make his presence known or not, but in the end, he inched closer to the prison bars, hiding carefully the pointed wood stick.

“… who is asking?” mumbled Ivar as he heard the familiar sound of a key slipping through a hole as the prison bars were opened for him.

“I work for Gustaf The King” replied the burly man, as he pushed the bars away, actually freeing Ivar and before he could continue, the pointy stick was stabbed in his guts and he immediately rushed to steal his sword to him, cutting his throat open.

The man tried to close the gap, but he fell beside Ivar, who he had the time to steal the keys before they were dipped in blood.

“… well I don’t know whoever that asshole is, but this is my fucking city”.

He had proceeded to free all his fighters and had challenged any men of this fucktard Gustaf, although they might have thought he would fight against Lagertha, he wouldn’t support any stupid conqueror coming for city.

Even more when his wife was in it.

(Y/N) knew how to fight, he knew it.

But in cases like this, his worrying nature got the best of him and he desperately fought with anybody who might stand as an obstacle, eventually coming to the great hall where everyone was stored inside, coming even shoulder to shoulder with Lagertha and her shieldmaidens, as they contrasted with her the threat.

Eventually the men moved in retreat, or at least what had remained of the people Lagertha and Ivar had spared, more in an attempt to send a message than for actual mercy.

“… what are you doing out of your cage?” asked Lagertha, not lowering her weapons and Ivar keeping them up as straight as he could cradling on the ground as he looked through the shieldmaidens line, hoping to find your face, but no one was quite like you.

He hoped you had had the good sense of hiding in the great hall.

“They freed me, thinking that I could have helped them, but I didn’t” he replied, as he gave his men order to relax, Lagertha doing the same, as she turned, proving herself to be vulnerable.

… all he would need was a to raise his sword…

But not before he saw you inside and safe.

“… I won’t say ‘thank you’ for what you did” mumbled Lagertha, opening the big door of the great hall.

“Wasn’t expecting you to” he replied harshly, his eyes immediately ranking over the figures in the great hall.

Hadn’t you been pissed with him, you would have probably moved to hug him, coming at him and tripping him, as you did when you were younger, smirking softly at him.

‘You took your time, cripple’ you would say, and then kiss him on the lips so damnably softly that he would have felt the need to deepen the kiss in an almost desperate way, to prove that you were alive and breathing beneath him.

But you were pissed so he didn’t expect you to come to him.

But he didn’t see you.

And then he spotted Tala, your sister-in-law, she held her pregnant bump with a pure look of fear in her face, which wasn’t eased as Ivar came closer to her, completely bloodied, so he tried his best to remember to be nice with her.

Tala, unlike your brother, had always been nice to him, a bit obtuse but nothing so bad.

“… Tala…” he shook her gently, trying to avoid touching her on her hips, knowing that soon-to-be-mothers could be quite fierce, when their children were touched “… where is my wife? Where is (Y/N)?”.

“(Y/N)?” for a minute Ivar thought she was too confused to speak and his anger flooded his insides, but then she blurted out “… she went to see the healer, had strange dreams… and retched”.

Which wasn’t a good thing, but it was better than to know that those brutes had done something horrible to you.

You were probably at Ylva’s, chatting and gossiping, but then something caught his eyes as he thanked Tala, and her husband, your brother, moved to take care of her as she slumped down in his arms, exhausted.

He gave no look at Ivar and he was thankful for it.

Your brother had always been fiercely protective of you.

What caught his eyes was the way Lagertha moved around worried.

“… have you seen Astrid?” he heard her utter and suddenly a doubt went through him.

What if Astrid wasn’t the only one missing.

What if…

“Who is this Gustaf The King, who tried to take Kattegat?” although the attack had been damnably chaotic and he could definitely see that who they had fought against were unproper warriors, he could also see the strategy behind it.

This had all been a distraction, but for what?

“He is…” Lagertha seemed almost out of breath due to the worry in her voice “… is a small lord, but he has been calling himself king because he has been rallying a few rebels from different areas, promising them glory”.

“And why didn’t you notify us of this?” because he hadn’t heard of this, and it had passed more than three months since he had last come back from England “... this seems like a threat”.

“He is nothing more than a small lord and has an unorganized army, it is nothing to worry” now her tone was a challenge, as if she wanted to quickly shut up Ivar’s mouth, but he was a fretting husband with a missing wife “… why aren’t you back in prison?”.

“Because I just saved your ass, although you won’t admit it”.

As much as Lagertha’s army was strong, the help of his had been substantial to it all.

Lagertha didn’t admit but let out a huge huff of air, before a small shieldmaiden barged through the huge doors, immediately moving to Lagertha who took in her worried.

“Gyda, what happened?” she asked softly, brushing away a few of her hair drenched in sweat “… is everything…?”.

“I wanted to speak with Astrid after out training” her voice was breathless but loud enough for also Ivar to hear her “… she told me she would be back in the city but when I came on the road to be back in Kattegat, I…”.

And instead of completing the phrase she exited Astrid’s knife, a beautiful polished thing, almost as deadly as the woman who held it and what was attached to it, scared even more Ivar.

The queen pendant he had gifted you the day before you had come back to Kattegat, when you had sealed your deal with evil: an heir for a truce.

He had secured the small necklace around your neck, the heavy pendant dipping between your breast, as you kept your eyes closed waiting for the surprise Ivar had promised you, and as he told you to open them, you had gripped the pendant, in your hands.

‘… you do know that us girls like things that shine don’t you’ you had mumbled faking disappointment, as Ivar just huffed annoyed, setting himself beside you on your shared bed ‘… I am joking, Ivar, it’s beautiful, but…’.

‘You are the queen, and I don’t mean it simply as a promise of what I’ll make you become, once Lagertha is off the throne…’ you had then taken his hands softly in yours.

‘… I don’t need a promise of a title or a crown to be happy with you Ivar’ you had mumbled softly, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand, as you moved forward for a kiss, but he pushed himself back, pleading you to let him continue.

‘… but also because the queen is the strongest piece on the board, the one who can do everything and the true source of the king power, which is what you are also to me, you aren’t a ‘pawn’ or an ‘horse’, you are the sole queen, and I hope this’ll remind you of it’.

And as you had been moved by his discourse, you had hugged him tight, mumbled in his ear about ‘how sappy he could be with you’ as he protested, trying to reject the hug.

‘… I’ll never take it off, Ivar’.

And the fact that you didn’t have it in you, was a terrible sign.

You couldn’t have just disappeared.

Where could you have gone?

---

As you woke up, your head pained you more than anything else, and you almost thought that you had just woken up from another nightmare.

One in which you hadn’t been kidnapped alongside Astrid.

But sadly, it wasn’t a nightmare.

You weren’t on earth, since you could feel movements under your ass, ad as you raised your head you found out that you couldn’t see the sky, but you were trapped under a wooden roof.

Everything certainly making it seem like you were trapped in a boat.

Your hands were bound alongside your feet and as you turned you found Astrid beside you, immediately taken aback by the fact that you were awake, as she rushed closer, dragging her body around the pavement.

“… are you awake, (Y/N)?” she called out to you, whispering lightly.

“Yes, I am simply…” your head fought to stay lucid as you found your words being slurred and a sudden nausea hitting you up, even stronger than your headache “… my head hurts as if it had been used to be kicked around”.

“They hit us pretty strongly” she explained with a sad smile “… I do think that I’ll have a big bruise where he hit me”.

“Where are we?” you asked, rushing in as you tried to break free from the rope, but it was tight enough to hurt your wrist and when you had been tied, you hadn’t been able to use any trick to make your hands seem bigger, swollen.

You looked around to find something sharp but not only the room was extremely dark, but you couldn’t move much, again the nausea making you dizzy.

“… a boat, from what I can hear, but I don’t know much more…” she sent you a meaningful look “…I am sorry, I tried to make some noise, but they seem d…”.

As she was finishing talking, you both heard footsteps and protests being shout as you both moved away from each other, trying to assume innocent poses, as much as your nausea could allow you to.

You were biting your tongue till blood crept out, enough to distract you from the need to retch on your feet.

And then men appeared behind the door on your left, letting a bit of light in, as they dragged alongside themselves candles, and if it was already night… you were rather far away from Kattegat.

And there it hit you, as the adrenaline left you and you realized that you were lost.

The men were three and they approached with strong steps shutting any other sound and coming closer to you both, as a man, a beauty in gold with a strong face and a proud jaw, gently crouched down to you.

As if he almost wanted to comfort a scared animal, holding out a hand for your face, as he checked you, before asking.

“I fucking told Eric to only grab the queen’s bitch, but he also grabbed you” he spoke slowly, so that each word destroyed you completely “… so tell me, little girl, who the fuck are you?”.

“A no one” you replied, breathing out your answer and Astrid was smart enough not to contradict you.

As the wife of a prince you were valuable for any exchange, and you had learned long ago that if you were captured, you should have never ever revealed your true identity for the wellbeing of your husband.

“… a pretty no one” muttered a fat soldier beside him, probably the Eric who the blond man was talking about, as the he tightened the grip on your face.

“… we won’t keep whores here” muttered the other unknown man, who held the candle, bringing it closer to your face and suddenly some kind of look of recognition showed on his face.

And you got worried.

“… but she isn’t a simple whore, she is Ivar The Boneless’ whore” he muttered as on the blond man’s face appeared a bright smile, turning to a relieved Eric and you couldn’t help but feel again the need to retch, but this time it wasn’t because of a bodily reaction “… when I fought back in England I always saw her perched on that fucking lucky son of a bitch of a cripple… and you know what is worse?”.

“… no, tell me” the look on the man’s face brightened, almost victoriously as you tried to hide your fear.

“… he fucking loved her”.

Only there and then the blond man abandoned the grip on your chin, but you were well aware that you were thoroughly fucked.

“Eric” he called out to the fat soldier, the one who had kidnapped you and Astrid “… apparently you didn’t simply bring me the lover of a queen, but also the beloved wife of a prince”.

And then a scream of pure utter victory was released.

And in that moment, you did retch on your own boots.

---

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[winryofresembool]

Edwin week, day 1: Hope

Summary: Ed does some ‘treasure hunting’ and finds a pretty big one. 

a/n: Better late than never, right? I have written preg!Win fics before, but to add a new twist I made it LCMTI (also known as ice skating au) verse. You can read LCMTI here but I don’t think it’s necessary to read it to be able to understand this little story! I hope you guys enjoy, and as usual, reviews/reblogs really make my days! @503week

Words: 1400+

Genre: much floof

Warnings: none

ao3

...

Two red lines.

Winry had suspected it for about a week before she finally got her confirmation. Her period was late, the tank top she used under her work overalls felt tighter, and certain foods she usually enjoyed suddenly made her feel nauseous. She hadn’t told Ed about any of that, though, afraid of how he would react. They had had a good conversation about whether a child was something they’d want before their wedding, but Winry couldn’t help but be a little bit anxious still. Her now husband had lost a lot at a young age – his mother, someone he considered a little sister, and even his own arm - and making him open up about all that had been hard enough; what if this was too soon despite Ed being the one who had suggested it in the first place?

Pinako was the first person to hear Winry’s news. The younger Rockbell woman had talked to her granny about her worries and Pinako had convinced her that the sooner Ed knew, the better, because that would give him more time to get used to the idea of being a dad. Once she had decided to tell him the following day when he was back from a game trip, next came the matter of /how/ she would break the news to him. This was going to be a big change in their lives, not something she wanted to casually tell over the dinner.

What made Ed happier than anything in the world, Winry asked herself. Well, that was fairly easy to answer. Aside from the people in his life, the two things he valued more than anything was, surprise, hockey and his biochemistry studies that he had nearly finished. Winry knew that there probably were baby clothes with chemistry puns out there, and those would surely amuse Ed, but something told her she wanted the ‘reveal gift’ to be a bit more special. Something that was so them that it would melt even his heart. And then it hit her. The answer was surprisingly simple.

…

“A treasure hunt? Isn’t that… kind of childish?” Ed frowned when Winry presented her idea to him.

“You play video games all the time and watch cartoons but a treasure hunt is too childish?” Winry looked at him with disbelief. “C’mon, Ed, this is important to me.”

“Okay, but why?” he insisted.

“You will understand eventually.”

Winry had hidden her reveal present while Ed had been at his hockey practice. She had put clues into places that meant something to them, such as behind the family pictures over the fireplace or under the couch where she had sat when Ed had proposed to her (and where a lot of other stuff had happened as well, on that same day and afterwards), or between the pillow case that she had mocked when she had visited Ed for the first time… She hoped he’d understand the hidden meanings at some point, but then again, he had always been kind of dense when it came to sensing other people’s emotions.

Winry knew Ed liked challenge so instead of just writing ‘look under the couch’ or something of that nature on a piece of paper, she made the clues small riddles. She used the names of chemical elements to form words that would reveal the place he should look from next, but to make it slightly more challenging she did it in a way that Ed would first have to change the element names into their abbreviations.

She gave him the first clue. On a piece of paper she had written:

“Tin + Oxygen + Fluoride + Gold = Good luck chemistry nerd! ; )”

Ed stared at the equation for a while, frowning.

“Um, I know you’re not an expert on this field but this reaction makes absolutely no sense.”

“Maybe you have to use a different approach then! Maybe it’s not quite what it looks like,” Winry noted coolly.

Ed tried to solve the mystery in a couple of different ways before he finally cracked the code:

Sn = tin

O = oxygen

F = fluoride

Au = gold

“Oh, it says sofa!”

Since the couple only had sofas in their livingroom, it wasn’t hard to find the next clue. Now that Ed knew the code, it didn’t take him long to finish his search, and Winry was amused by how riled up he seemed about it despite the initial complaints. Eventually, the clues took him to his hockey equipment closet, where he found a box he hadn’t seen there before.

He opened it. Inside the box he found tiny hockey skates, fitting for a very small child. At first he stared at them for a while, not understanding the meaning.

“Is this some kind of joke about my foot size? Because you know I don’t find it…”

“No, Ed, believe me, it’s not a joke. Or any kind of reference to your size. They’re actually meant for someone to wear.”

“Then what…?” Finally his frown started fading away as he understood and his mouth opened in surprise. “These are… baby sized skates… You don’t mean…”

Winry just nodded and Ed’s eyes widened even further, if possible.

“A… b-baby? You? Pregnant?” He managed to stutter.

“If you don’t believe it, I still have the positive test in the bathroom,” Winry rolled her eyes.

Ed finally got his tongue back. “No, that’s not necessary. But still… I wasn’t expecting it to happen so…” He didn’t finish the sentence, seeming to properly take the information in.

“But I… I have no idea how to be a father. Mine was always absent. What if I will suck at it? What if I fail to protect the baby like I did with…”

“Ed, we’ve been over this before,” Winry started calmly. “The fact that you’re worried about that already tells me that you’re going to do just fine. And know that there’s more than just one person protecting the child. I’m here, granny’s here, Al’s here, all my friends, your team… I bet they’ll all adore it. You don’t have to be some superhero who saves the entire world on his own, or in this case raise the child on your own, we can do this together.”

Ed consired her words for a moment before finally agreeing. “Yeah, you’re right. We can do this.”

Suddenly his face brightened in a way Winry had quite rarely seen.

“A baby! That I can teach to skate! And read! And count… and…”

“I’m 6 weeks into my pregnancy and you’re already thinking about teaching the kid skating?” Winry asked with disbelief.

Ed looked at the little skates in his hands that he still was holding and burst into laughter: “Mmmh, and you definitely hadn’t thought about that option… and that’s exactly why you got these.”

“I just… thought they’d make you happy,” Winry said, a bit flustered. She had to admit, the idea of the father and the child practicing together made her heart feel warm in a very good way.

“They did,” Ed admitted. “So thank you.” He gave her a soft kiss on the forehead.

Winry sighed happily and then added a bit shyly: “I also thought… skating was of course what united us in the first place… and you got me these earrings when I won.” She showed the golden skate earrings she had gotten from him several years ago after winning the Olympic gold medal. “These skates reminded me of them.”

“I’m glad you’re still using them,” Ed noted, gently touching her piercing. He seemed a bit distracted for a moment before he added:

“Really, now that I think of it… This is amazing. Your body is amazing.” Winry raised him a questioning eye brow because it wasn’t like Ed to say things like that. Ed rushed to continue, cheeks slightly red. “I mean, you can raise an entire human inside you! Scientists have tried…”

Winry stopped him before he could go on a full on rant about what science could or could not do.

“I’m glad you seem to be taking this surprisingly well. I have to admit, I was kind of worried…”

“One side of me may still be freaking out a bit,” Ed said, still smiling though, “but thinking about seeing it grow, and learn, taking care of it and doing all kinds of cool things together, all three of us… I think it’s gonna be worth it.”

“It will,” Winry agreed and kissed him fully on the mouth, letting it tell more than her words could.

[lizzybeth1986]

Quick Thoughts on TRH Book 1 Chapter 7

• More YEEHAW with a dash of bachelorette action, a sprinkle of rollin'-in-the-hay (literally) and one big dollop of "oh we're poor" to set up for next week's chapter.

• Screenshot credits:

Hana: @pixieferry

Drake: @thefirstcourtesan and BizzysChoices YouTube channel (@thefirstcourtesan also sent screenshots for Penelope's dancing scene from her Liam MC playthrough).

Maxwell: @thethots-plicken

• These are the tags you can block if you don’t want to see these posts: #long post, #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs.

• This is the only chapter that could potentially have no men in it, and you deliberately force the focus away from Hana? Now if that doesn't sound like the TRR writing team then I don't know what does.

• Why is Madeleine here? Go climb a pine tree in Fydelia or something.

• If you're going to give Drake a whole extended family, PB, at least get the family straight? Who is Leona, is she Bianca's sister? Jackson's sister? WHOSE SISTER IS SHE.

• Title: A Night Out In the Town

Alternative Title: The Mandatory Annual Courtly Maidens Meetup

Alternative to the Alternative Title: Hana Lee and the Audacity of this Bitch

(you know which one)

• This chapter works mostly for the nostalgia factor. There's plenty of it in these scenes.

• Bachelor parties and bachelorettes have pretty much been a long-standing tradition in TRR - there's always going to be that one chapter where someone gets a sendoff via a wild party (exactly how wild really depends on whoever is throwing it). The MC meets most of the original gang (except Hana) at Liam's bachelor party, and there have been at least 5 bachelor/bachelorette parties in the series so far (counting this one). I won't be surprised if they gave Penelope a dude in TRR Book 3 just for the express purpose of having another excuse to have another bachelorette party next book.

• The one really good thing about this chapter? It's that Hana will not stand for any nonsense from Madeleine:

She's not going to pretend Madeleine deserves to hold any space among her circle of friends, or even of acquaintances. She's not going to allow Madeleine to get away with not following the rules of an event she's planned, not when Madeleine failed to show the same courtesy to women in her court. If Madeleine insists on badgering the MC about her 'pregnancy', Hana is here to defend you. The message is loud and clear. This is Hana Lee's show, she is running it, and if you can't listen to what she says you can fall on a cactus.

• I only wish we were able to give her the kind of loyalty and protection from Madeleine, that Hana deserved. She did not deserve for us to allow the bullying done to her, to be brushed aside as a hazing ritual. Hell, even while knowing what Madeleine did to her, we didn't even get to check up on her.

Hana did not deserve for us to pretend that never happened to her, and she definitely did not deserve to have her own pain be treated over and over in the narrative like it didn't matter. Even now, her no-nonsense behaviour is rooted firmly in her concern for other people, like the MC and Savannah. Why can't the team ever allow Hana to do this for herself? Why can't the other characters ever step in to defend her the same way? Why am I allowed to (optionally) coddle Penelope twice in today's chapter in a way I never can for Hana?? Why should Hana always be the one protecting but hardly ever the one protected??

• So the ladies of the court have arrived, leaving a puzzled Bianca and a perpetually pissed-off Leona in their wake. Hana explains the situation: she invited Kiara, Olivia and Penelope along. Madeleine invited herself for the sole purpose of being nosy.

• ...in what universe is Madeleine a "public relations angel". Have you SEEN how badly you did your own job the last book??

• Olivia and Madeleine can't last two minutes without sniping at each other and this makes Savannah sad (not that they care, they're enjoying the back-and-forth banter) The MC elicits a promise from the two that Olivia will not stab Madeleine, and Madeleine will not "mentally and emotionally break Olivia". What's with Madeleine and constantly wanting to break people?

• Also you really think you can emotionally break Olivia??? She's from Lythikos, you pineapple!

• Hana mentions shopping to Bianca and Leona, and we have yet another hint that all is not well at the ranch.

• The ladies change at a store nearby, to outfits that suit the rustic theme for the event. Which means Savannah gets the opportunity to dress a little more glam on this day, and the ladies of the court get to dress down a bit. Well...except for Olivia, who prefers to change into her red Coronation gown. Here are the girls in order of preference:

Okay first off - I have to say this - FULL BODY SPRITES FOR THE LADIES FINALLY OMG!!! It's the first time I'm actually seeing them all like this: the last time we managed to see a change of outfits was when we had to choose their outfits for the wedding, and even then only the half-body sprites were used. The fact that we never get to see Olivia in a different outfit kind of makes me feel like they might be saving her sprite for a bigger diamond scene? Idk.

• Also how did no one either notice nor point out that Olivia was still wearing a gown?

• Hana stays in the outfit she wore the previous day, and you get to choose whether she keeps the hat or not. The denim short skirt and brown shrug is a lovely outfit on Kiara, and I like the necklace Penelope has on. I think my favourite is Savannah's? I love the rhinestones, the embellished belt, the flower design, and it's a beautiful silver colour that compliments Savannah's skin tone.

• Savannah may annoy the hell out of me but one thing you can't deny about her is she's HELLA fashionable (remember the Drake engagement scene where he says the lavender coloured dress was her choice? That dress was super pretty).

• The MC wearing gold for bachelorettes is kind of a theme with her now lol. Started with the gold theme for Madeleine's bachelorette, then a theme where she wore gold and everyone else was supposed to wear black for her own, and now every going country - but she and Savannah get to bring on the bling.

(Fun Fact: Both Madeleine's and Savannah's bachelorettes take place in Chapter 7 of their respective books, with very different outcomes)

• Our first stop after the country makeover is the bar! Which is Hana's choice, because she is the kind of lovely, wholesome human being who will fully commit to research for her friend's sister's bachelorette party.

Why are you lying Hana.

• So the MC helps Hana out first my selecting drinks. You have 5 options to choose from: beer, cocktails, champagne, one of those fire drinks, and sparkling water. Savannah is doubtful and then excited to try the fire drinks, loves fruity cocktails and enjoys the bubbly. Olivia is impressed when Savannah chugs her fire drink. Kiara is amazed at the sight of beer coming in bottles. Penelope is disappointed if we decide to order a very tame sparkling water. Madeleine raises her eyebrows if you try to take anything even remotely alcoholic because she has already decreed you pregnant.

• Next stop: dancing! You get to choose which lady you'd like to dance with, and if you're romancing Hana this opens up to a romantic scene!

Hana: is happy and enthusiastic if you're friends, whoops and giggles as you spin her. More slow dancing happening if you're married to her...definitely more romantic.

Kiara: is nervous at first because she doesn't know "the social mores of this establishment", but when the MC reassures her that no one cares, she lets go of her inhibitions and shakes her hips, enjoying herself.

Olivia: very competitive, is confident she can dance circles around the MC, starts doing martial arts instead. Savannah reminds her it's not a duel and Olivia's like "EVERYTHING'S A DUEL". I should take her to Kerala and have her learn kalaripayattu 😁 (also I'd be interested in seeing a three-way dance battle between Hana, Maxwell and Olivia plsthnx).

Savannah: Also enthusiastic and excited, v much the 'happy bride'. Both Savannah and the MC are comfortable in this setting.

Penelope: This comes with a reference to her social anxiety, because her initial nervousness has to do with the crowds. The MC makes space for her through dancing, and she winds up having fun while still feeling comfortable. Madeleine tries to make a smart-alec comment but pretty much no one gives a shit about her so it's okay.

Madeleine: does not exist.

• After this, Savannah shows the girls how to do a Texas Two-Step, which is baffling to them. Hana gets it down in like two minutes, and the MC depending on options can either do it perfectly, go off-beat then claim she created her own trend lol, or trip over herself and hurt her feet, following which Hana assumes she is doing the robot, and does it alongside her. Apparently she learned it during a summer class she took while her embroidery instructor was sick.

• I don't get it, what's with all these random embroidery references they keep throwing at Hana these days.

• Olivia and Kiki are still baffled by the two-step dance, so Savannah recommends more drinking! Madeleine and Olivia are competitive with each other and loving it, and Penelope and Kiara are confused about how they're supposed to drink tequila. The MC gets to show them how it's done. She can either do it right (pour the salt, drink the shot, suck the lime), or get it wrong (pour the shot, suck the salt, drink the lime). The highlight of this is definitely the last one (pour the salt, drink the salt, suck the salt!). Like, the MC actually tips the contents of an entire salt shaker into her mouth! Failplay MC is the very definition of chaotic energy.

• Kiki, like the awesome friend she is, asks Savannah if she'd like to flirt or do anything hot-guy-related, which Savannah laughs and refuses. The topic then comes around to her relationship with Bertrand and his insecurities regarding Chuck. She says she barely had a thing with him but she's afraid Bertrand might do something stupid (he might, actually). The MC can choose to reassure her.

• I don't get it like...okay? Why am I the one you're telling this to rather than your own fiancé? If he's the one having the insecurities, and you know they're there, what are you doing to alleviate that? I mean as far as I can see your aunt is pretty much dragging him the whole time for not magically acquiring ranch skills and I hardly see you even talking about that. I don't see you actually trying to talk to him. So why tell me all these things - go tell him and sort it out yourself.

• Because Savannah speaks about wanting a happy family in the wake of this conversation, the topic then returns to that of the MC's ongoing attempts to get pregnant.

• Madeleine is a nosy, entitled piece of shit. She just is. Raises her eyebrows at me when I'm drinking, makes terrible apple puns for a fetus that probably isn't even there yet, comes for a trip she's not even been fucking invited to so she can poke her entitled nose into my business. Even her show of 'sympathy' revolves around her and her problems. All this while she acts like a martyr for following a dress code (remember how she dragged Penelope for not getting a metallic dress on time and 'ruining' her dress code, but came to our bachelorette making excuses for not following our dress code?). I'm glad Hana was having none of it at least now.

The only differences between this scene in a Hana playthrough vs in the others is that Hana tries to get Madeleine to stop before the MC gets to give her answer ("Madeleine, please..."), and that she reacts sadly to the MC if she chooses to be openly sad about it.

• ...so the scene in the hotel in Chapter 5 (where the MC and Hana could talk about what Dr Ramirez said, if Hana was your LI) always had a "there, we spoke about it, now shut up" feel to me. Because now they've given the MC a voice regarding how she feels about this pregnancy (we can either deem it invasive, speak normally about it or be very, very sad and spill out how disappointed we are. The last option's dialogues is the one I put up).

It's surreal...to see an MC who can say this openly while Hana's condition and how it's affecting her is barely even addressed. It's even more surreal that even now we're still coddling Penelope to the high heavens, and how a lot of aggressive importance is still given to Olivia, while still ignoring what could be happening to Hana if she's married...or making even a chapter that has potentially no men in it about literally anyone but her.

• The nice thing is Savannah is quite supportive in all three options. Olivia diffuses the tension/seriousness by suggesting we have more drinks.

• Aha! Queen Amalas.

• So she claims she came down not to pressurize us into anything but to see the MC in an environment outside of the palace/estate and court, including how she behaves with other people. She has no friends but treats her servants well (and apparently tipped her waiter a thousand). But the little bits she adds in about our origins can be a little unnerving. While offering a Sarzac she mentions our home state New York and asks if we'd prefer a Manhattan, and suggests we would know about how important a good tip is since we worked as a waitress. The MC's reactions can range between friendly, curious or accusatory. Overall the general impression is that she's mysterious and alluring, but there's something about her that spells danger.

This is me rn:

• Anyway...so we leave with our drinks, and join the girls. Penelope is drunk and talking to a mechanical bull, Kiara is drunk and trying really hard to talk country to the same bull. Savannah deeply (I'm kidding) regrets not returning Kiara's kindness in teaching her French by teaching her American English, coz it would have saved her this moment of cringing in a bar rn.

• They raise a toast to either Savannah, or friendship, or "putting the past behind us". I don't want to raise a toast to any of these options.

• Savannah is emotional and speaks of how hard it was to fit in and how much she missed Cordonia and the people she knew in court when she was away bringing up Bartie, and how the MC "changed all that" (how??? Again, a lot of what she does is optional, not default! Plus a bulk of the work of finding her went to her own brother, and later a fumbling Bertrand - not the MC unless she really chose to help. My MC Esther gets these dialogues despite not bothering to help Savannah in any way) and how she is now friends with all of them.

• Diamond scene! The ladies of the court have never had sleepovers (for various reasons), so MC-who-had-a-way-more-normal-life to the rescue!

• We start off with a drink. Three are on offer and we get to choose one: Hana's special Hot Chocolate recipe ("like drinking a minty chocolaty hug"), Olivia's Lythikos Nog ("like drinking a buttery, spiced cloud") or the traditional Walker Hot Toddies from Savannah (basically hot water and whiskey made with lemon, honey and spices).

• Once that's out of the way, we start off with, as the MC calls it, "gossiping about our love lives". Penelope is asked first, and she gets to tell us about her ongoing relationship with Kiara's brother Ezekiel. Olivia is next, and depending on your choices she can openly speak about the fact that Liam didn't choose her, twice, and how she needs to move on. She can also choose not to talk about it if the MC tells the other ladies of the court to back off (which is funny, because the whole thing was her idea to begin with). There's not a lot of change to this dialogue in all the playthroughs, except for mentions of whether Liam was engaged to the MC or not.

• After this, the MC can choose to ask either Madeleine or Kiara the same question:

- Madeleine is defensive and reminds the MC that she "interfered" with her relationship status (wasn't even much of a relationship to begin with), but eventually makes it known that she doesn't believe in "sappy romance" and would rather marry to benefit her house or country instead (nice save there, PB).

- Kiara is surprised and fumbles with her answers, speaking at first about how busy her life currently is. But eventually she does tell you she has a type. The dialogue differs depending on whether the MC is married to Drake or not:

(Screenshots on the left are from my playthrough, and the ones on the right are from @thefirstcourtesan's Drake playthrough).

...I look at Madeleine's dialogue in this scene and need to remind myself that even broken clocks can be right twice a day.

• Repeat after me, Kiki: I deserve way better than a dude who might throw me under the bus just so he can kiss a Duchess' ass.

• Also most guys in Cordonia must have rippling abs, right. Considering that 90% of the male LIs in PB have six-pack abs.

• Interestingly, Olivia is allowed her feelings - and the confusion and mess that comes along with loving someone and not having that love returned - across playthroughs, but Kiara's has to be adjusted and shrouded in vagueness according to which MC she is speaking to. There are two factors at play there:

1. More often than not the narrative has taken Olivia's feelings more seriously than it has ever taken Kiara's. Of course part of it could be the childhood memories and the amount of time she spent with Liam, but we need to remember that the general attitude in the narrative towards Kiara's feelings constantly bordered on dismissiveness - and that wasn't even the worst of the treatment meted out to her.

2. Have you seen the amount of hate Kiara got from some Drake stans for as little as looking in the man's direction?? They'd tear her apart if she dared to even mention her crush in a Drake MC's playthrough!

• The ladies of the court now want to play literally anything else, so the MC pulls out the tried-and-tested Truth and Dare game out of her fancy cowboy hat. Here's the way it goes:

- The MC nominates Savannah, since she's the bride-to-be. Savannah goes for dare, and has to go by a nickname for the rest of the night (default: Bridechilla. I was really craving something so I went for Fried Chicken 🤣), or pose for a sexy photo which she can text to Bertrand. No response, but you can hear him faint upstairs. When asked to nominate someone, she nominates Penelope to ask a question.

- Penelope chooses Kiara, who picks 'truth'. She makes the MC choose for her instead. The MC does what the Choices universe calls a Wed, Bed or Dead which is really a way of saying FMK without having to write the F. You can give her an option between three women (Olivia, Penelope and Madeleine) or three men. Based on your playthrough, Kiara's list of men will vary (Liam, Maxwell and Bastien in a Drake playthrough, and Bradshaw, Bastien and Drake in other playthroughs). Her 'bed's are Olivia, Maxwell and Bastien, her 'wed's are Penelope (obviously), Liam (to be Queen) and Drake (also obviously), and her 'dead's are Madeleine (but obviously), Bastien and Bradshaw (coz CORDONIA RULEZ!). It's interesting to note that Kiara seems surprised/shocked by the idea when you ask her to choose between the girls, and Hana eases her into it by stating that they're all friends here. Which I found really sweet. Kiara then nominates Madeleine to choose someone.

(note: why is Savannah acting so shocked about Kiara choosing her brother for 'marry' when she spoke about liking him barely ten minutes ago???)

- Madeleine chooses Olivia, hoping to wriggle out any information about the mysterious mission Olivia seems to be on. Olivia cleverly tricks her, by reminding Madeleine that she didn't say truth or dare, and picking dare. With no option she asks Olivia to prank call someone. Olivia has three options:

1. Give Maxwell a phone call pretending to have tickets for a Celine Dion concert. He has to choose the best noble house. Sweet Maxwell cannot choose between his own house and ours, but loses out because the correct answer (obviously) is House Nevrakis lol. Savannah's best line comes from here: "Don't worry, his heart will go on" 🤣

2. Give Bertrand a call claiming to be a representative from the Cordonia Philharmonic Orchestra, and Olivia asks the same question to him. His answer is House Beaumont, without question, and Olivia gives him the same answer. The nice thing about this option is that it's coded such that if you chose Savannah's 'sexy photo' option, the narrative mentions that his voice is 'woozy' and he sounds like he recently came back to consciousness. Whereas if you chose the nickname option, these lines would not be included.

3. Give Drake a call claiming to be from a "secret whiskey enthusiast society". Drake somehow figures out that the caller is Olivia, thus leaving her very, very annoyed.

Once this is done, Madeleine nominates the MC, who chooses truth or dare instead of a person like the others did. Hana makes the suggestions this time.

If you choose dare to a single Hana, she asks you to pretend to lasso Savannah.

If you choose dare to a married Hana, she will ask you to kiss her.

If you choose truth, she asks you what law you'd pass if you had a chance, and you have to choose between a serious one like "restrictions on paparazzi", or jokey ones like naming a day after the MC or getting fancy hats from her subjects. The last one yields this adorable exchange:

- Before we can go any further, the girls notice Savannah feeling drowsy and decide to call it a night. The only people who have basically not been asked anything are Penelope (but she already did get to speak about her beau) and Hana (because no one bothers to ask her anything, she isn't even nominated).

• We return to the kitchen, where our LI is waiting for us. The MC tells them about the visit from Amalas, which the LI also views as suspicious, and the MC has a choice again in how she wants to react to this (the visit was invasive, she is impressed with Amalas' guts, she doesn't know what to make of her). They assure the MC that they'll alert the Walkers.

• LI Diamond scene! A cute scene at the hayloft where the MC and LI can have some private time away from the ranch. Those walls must be paper-thin. The first half deals with the couple talking about loving this glimpse of simplicity, and the second half has the MC choosing how she would have them seduce her. The closing bit mostly has the couple talking about how they feel at home with each other no matter where they are.

Liam: Gets a bit of a hero moment at the start of the scene, where a stray beam almost falls on the MC and he catches it. They joke about a couple of things, such as how 'adventurous' the barn is, and whether or not a rendezvous in a barn would qualify as being in the 'outdoors' 😂 In the second half of the scene, the MC can choose between a 'rough-and-tumble', or have Liam sleep with her in his usual tender way. He clearly has a preference for the second, but is more than game if the MC wants to try the first.

The music for Liam's scene, for some reason, is different (his background score for the first half is the romantic one from High School Story, and Drake's and Hana's is the romantic one from Big Sky Country. I'm not sure what Maxwell's is like because I have only seen screenshots of the scene) and he is the only LI who gets the option to keep his hat.

Ending Caption: Hay-pilly Ever After

Hana: The MC notices that Hana seems happy and at home at the ranch, and Hana points out how different the environment of the countryside ("cows outside, open air, no display cupboards") is so different from her home, where "there's gilt on the walls and silver in the display cupboards", and how she loves this space. The couple imagine together how it might have been if they met in a more humble setting (with the MC as a cowgirl and Hana as a salon owner), and how they would fall in love. In the second half, Hana expresses her desire to go a little wild, and the MC can choose between having her hands bound, or being blindfolded.

This scene tells us that Hana does an amazing impression of a Southern accent and I personally would love it if she could coach Kiara on doing one xD

Ending Caption: Country Courting

Maxwell: As he leads her to the loft, the MC has the option to point out that they have a bed, to which he quips that she's obviously not had as much camping experience as he does. They do a little dance in the barn, and they admit that they missed each other while she was gone. In the second half of the scene, the MC has the opportunity to tease Maxwell, beckoning him to chase her around the barn and catch her. I think he also tells her to "use your words" at one point.

I think this scene has the cutest ending, because they both have an impromptu yodelling duet after that.

Ending Caption: Oh, Darlin'

Drake: This scene is more nostalgic in nature because Drake is reliving his childhood, and admits that he didn't know how this trip back would turn out, or feel. He had no idea how different everything would be, nor what his emotions returning to the ranch would be like - and which Valtoria will always be home to him in some ways, the ranch's simple charm means something special to him. The couple can imagine this place to be either perfect for romance, or for bringing back their future children. In the second half of the scene, he confesses to fantasizing about the MC in the palace stables, and the couple indulge in a bit of role play. This also includes an option to take her against a wall.

The end of the scene has Drake tell the MC that being with her itself feels like a fantasy, one that sometimes still feels too good to be true....and therefore he never wants to take it for granted.

Ending Caption: Making Hay.

• We then see the couple going downstairs the next morning, where the MC manages to overhear a conversation between Leona and Bianca that indicates the ranch has no helpers before an auction that is supposed to bring in money for the wedding, and is in deep, deep trouble.

• So our next chapter will probably involve the people of the court working together to help save the ranch, perhaps some flashbacks? Idk. And perhaps because of their contributions, Leona may thaw a little. Who knows.

General Thoughts:

• Plenty of callbacks this chapter!!

- The bachelorette party itself has plenty parallels and could almost be seen as an inverse of Madeleine's bachelorette. Back then, the ladies of the court each began to express frustration and hurt at her controlling, bullying behaviour, Hana's confidence was left in tatters, Olivia was an outsider to the court not bound by their rules.

Here, Madeleine is a largely unwanted presence and pretty much everyone makes it clear that what she thinks no longer matters. Hana is at the peak of her confidence here. She makes it clear that if Madeleine wants to stay she has to follow their rules. Olivia still manifests as a mysterious outside figure, but more out of choice than out of necessity.

- The other indicator of this parallel is what Amalas tells the MC about wanting to know who she is dealing with. She mentions that she wants to see how the MC interacts with her "friends and servants", and it kind of gets me wondering just how much trouble Madeleine would have been in if a figure like Amalas managed to see her behaviour in Italy with courtiers like Penelope and Hana.

- The fire drink which the MC can optionally suggest for both Drake and Savannah to drink. Drake drinks it in a competitive spirit in his birthday party scene in Book 1, Savannah looks doubtful at first but sees it through, to which the MC will remark that "your brother would be proud".

- Savannah mentioning Bertrand giving someone at Cordonia Philharmonic Orchestra a "severe tongue lashing" 🤣 Which kinda was a term Bertrand used for himself in Book 2.

- Lady 'I didn't know I could dance until I actually did it' Kiara. In Book 2 Hana can compliment Kiara on her dancing skills, to which Kiara laughs and mentions that she had no idea she could dance either. She was super drunk back then, now she knows it while she's sober too! 😅

- Some bits in this chapter remind me of our time with the Beaumonts in Book 1? Like the scene where Penelope speaks to the mechanical bull while drunk, while kiiiinda resembles her drunken behaviour at the Beaumont Bash. Also the whole situation of helpers/staff dropping off at the last minute seems a little parallel to what happened twice to the Beaumonts? Once with the MC's boat and then with the Beaumont Bash to host the court. I kinda find that interesting because Bertrand has been in a similar situation and hopefully could feel...somewhat...useful? If he can manage to string more words together, that is.

- Hana daring her wife to kiss her during Truth and Dare, which is (if you bought that scene and actually picked that option) exactly how their first kiss happened 😁😁😁

• I kinda like it when we have chapters like these where the women of the court have a chapter to themselves, because the dynamics are fun and the women are all different in ways that tend to complement each other.

• Honestly, Savannah asking my MC to become her maid of honour was pretty jarring considering my MC doesn't care a single bit about her and has honestly done very very little (if at all) to help her. I mean I can kiiiiinda understand if the MC is her sister-in-law/future SIL via Drake or Maxwell maybe...but otherwise why couldn't Kiara be an option? How is it that Savannah mentions her struggles to fit in, yet Kiara genuinely helping her never even features? Not even once?

I honestly think that Kiara could have been as good a choice to be MoH - we could have either coded it based on our diamond choices with Savannah, or split it between MC for Drake and Maxwell stans, and Kiki for Hana and Liam stans. Or at least more of an acknowledgement of how they were friends before she left? Beyond an offhand "oh yeah you taught me French, not like that helped me in that completely foreign place where I was bringing up my baby, maybe I should have taught you to speak country". Because having Savannah give me a grand speech about how amazing I've been to her was nothing short of weird and it would have felt a lot more natural to see her at least remembering the friendship(s) she did make in court.

• In at least two points in the chapter, Penelope requires someone to handhold her into certain things. You have to create the space for her while dancing. You have to decide on what questions to ask Kiara coz Penelope doesn't want to decide those herself. I'd actually be glad about their commitment to writing her that way, if I didn't understand how much they've let Penelope get away with, and how much other characters in similar positions have to suffer because the same amount of thought is never given to them.

The failplay I did of all three books brought up a couple interesting (but also disheartening) points about how they dealt with Penelope's condition, and how they dealt with difficult situations other characters had to go through (esp Kiara and Hana). At this point Penelope just sounds extremely entitled to good treatment, without wanting to really give back much in return.

• Kiara...well...I love her in this. She was fun, tried new things out, got out of her comfort zone, and she had some marvellous lines in this chapter. I just think it's funny how huge the differences between the way Olivia's feelings are acknowledged regardless vs the way Kiara's can only be acknowledged if it doesn't affect the MC...and it kind of says something about how those feelings are viewed by those writers. Because as a reader who has been following this story thread closesly, I know the writers have either conveniently forgotten - or take very lightly - how shitty Drake has been to her.

• I mean...had it been just about him not being interested, I probably wouldn't have cared much. I would have either turned to fanfic to change that around a bit, that's something you can always do for a pair you want to see but know you can't in canon. But realizing that the man could openly suspect a woman he knew was stabbed at the same event he was shot, optionally pander to the MC's whims and dismiss what she was going through in the process, and to not feel any fucking remorse for it...I mean, Kiara doesn't deserve better just because Drake doesn't isn't interested in her - because no one should have to be obligated to show interest for another person...Kiara deserves better because this man has done very little for her in their few exchanges (esp Book 3) besides ridicule, mock, act rudely and unfairly to her, and finally getting away with the worst possible behaviour without any consequence (some of it is optional, but the suspicion was definitely default). And I know the writing will never admit that because Drake is their golden boy.

• Madeleine causes minimal damage this time and Hana totally owned her a couple times today...so I'm kinda happy with that. At least they made sure never to bring back any hints of that story they were planning with her for Hana...if there is one thing I'm only too happy they are retconning, it's that!

• Speaking of Hana - there are maybe a couple of things I'm happy about and a lot that I'm not. I like that that she can throw shade (though I wish to God they would have let her do it much earlier) at Madeleine, and my favourite bits involve Hana not allowing that woman to get away with shit that she never allowed other people to get away with when she was in power.

But there's also the fact that she's pretty much treated like the least important person in that room? Like I would have personally loved to see her be asked a cute fun question. I mean, by now both Liam and Drake have gotten individual character scenes, and I only get to see Hana in the context of a group scene with the ladies where she is mostly helping the others? I loved that we got the barn scene afterwards...but let's be honest the barn scene was mostly about the sex.

I honestly just found it weird that the one chapter with (optionally) no men in it still couldn't have some focus on her, or much effort put into her. Is asking for more than scraps for her, too much to ask for? (I feel like the answer to that would be yes).

• Olivia is upto something, and the livestream apparently hinted at her being important to the story. I mean what's new about that? Olivia is a favourite of the writers and they will continue to favour her while Hana is still relegated to the sidelines (and so will a huge chunk of this fandom). No lie, I really like Olivia, but why the heck aren't you giving the lone female LI that much attention?

• I also wonder how much of her mysterious work has to do with the reading up she was telling us about in the last book's epilogue.

• Queen Amalas...I still don't know what to make of her - she's a pretty interesting mix of intrigue and invasiveness I think. She's flirty and teasing, but the way she slipped in those tidbits about our past definitely raised my hackles a little bit. Could be a red herring...could be more. Who knows.

• The Olivia and Madeleine dynamics were great...Kiara is still an awesome, encouraging friend to Penelope, but for me the highlight was Hana and Kiara's bonding (that exchange about hats definitely was a winner).

(Is part of my joy because I ship them? Yes. Yes it is. You can pry that ship outta my cold dead hands PB!)

• The barn scene was lovely: it was nice that the couples got to explore their more adventurous/homely sides in the first half of the scene, and were able to go completely wild for the second half of it. I think it's nice we got to see what they'd mostly like to experiment with in bed from time to time.

• I guess that's all for this chapter. Texas might possibly take a week or two more? Idk. Let's see. Rescuing the ranch may take a chapter, and so will the wedding...there may be one in between probably to figure out BertVannah's relationship but I'm not going to spend diamonds to make them talk to each other, no.

• I kinda like the subtle shift to childhood experiences to certain scenes in this book, because it gives the MC who doesn't know what the place is like for a child an idea of what the others had to grow up with...and therefore how she may need to approach her parenting. A number of the group scenes in this half of the book have had to do with childhood experiences the royals and nobles may have missed out on (pets, sleepovers) and the return-to-childhood narrative is a smart way to deal with that, I think.

• That's it for this chapter, guys! See you on Friday (hopefully) with a Book 1 QT, and next week with the next chapter!