#i have the audacity of a newborn

[dontfuckingbother]

this reminded me that in my catholic school we had team projects right, or kahoots or something. And since i was ESPECIALLY PERSUASIVE i always managed to name my team "cloaca" since i couldn't name it something dirty and i wanted to fuck with the rules a bit.

Unrelated, the teachers hated me

The faces of a cloaca deprived imp.

[administer-distractions]

.

[pochaccoups]

cheol has been so hot recently i need his kids

cw — nsfw, talk of kids & pregnancy, breeding, reader referred to as ‘girl’

“Four, Seungcheol?”

“Huh?” your fiancé perks up from his phone at the sound of your voice.

“Four kids? Three boys and one girl?”

He raises one of his thick brows at you and a smirk appears on his lips. “Is that what you want?”

“No, apparently that’s what eighteen year-old Seungcheol wanted,” you say, waving your phone screen at his face. “Seungkwan sent me a video of you asking Dino how many kids he wants when he’s older. First of all, he looks like a newborn, so I don’t know why you would ask him that. Second of all, four?!”

He stretches his palm out towards you, a curious frown wracking his features as you hand your phone to him so he can watch said video.

He watches it through, and it appears you’re right—it’s his younger self telling his members that he wants three sons and a youngest daughter.

It’s not like you haven’t talked kids with him before. In fact, it’s come up a few times before, and he’s always been considerate of you only. It’s however many you want, and if you don’t want any, that’s fine too. That’s why it’s a little comical seeing a younger Seungcheol fantasise about having so many kids when you’re almost certain he had never even been in the same room with a girl yet.

For a moment he worries that you’re genuinely mad at him over this, until you throw yourself onto the couch next to him with the cutest fake pouty frown on your face.

“Your poor future wife’s womb,” you say, shaking your head at him like you’re disappointed. “You’re so inconsiderate of her.”

“We’re talking in third person now?” he laughs, reaching over to massage your thighs.

“Well, no, because I won’t be carrying four of your gremlins.”

He gives a half-scoff, half-laugh. “I’m not asking you to, honey,” he says, growing serious for a moment. The next moment he’s grinning again, eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I remember what one of your friends told me you said to her when me and you met for the first time.”

Sweat starts pouring down your face immediately.

“You said I was so hot that you’d give me a football team of kids if I wanted.”

“I was drunk!”

“You were tipsy at most,” he corrects.

“Whatever,” you say with a roll of your eyes and the heat of the sun in your cheeks. “I didn’t lie.”

“Oh, yeah? I thought you refuse to ‘carry my gremlins’ though. Now you want a whole football team?”

“Seungcheol!” you exclaim, smacking at his arm for his audacity. “Why don’t we worry about just one for now?”

“Wait… really?” Seungcheol asks, his eyes shining. “I thought you wanted to wait until after the wedding.”

“It’s in two months, so it’s not like I’ll be showing. Also, it can take a couple of weeks of trying to even get pregnant in the first place.”

Okay, maybe there are a few more logistical issues with being pregnant on your wedding day, but truth be told, right now, all Seungcheol can think about is fucking you into another dimension.

“Honey, I promise that I will put a baby in you by morning.”

He wasn’t lying.

The clock nears three a.m. and Seungcheol still pounds away at you like a feral dog. Every inch of your skin is sticky with either spit, sweat, or cum. Your muscles burn from exertion, not yet aching but by the time day comes they will be.

It started off soft—kisses that were bursting with love and excitement because you wanted to have a baby. A family. Seungcheol’s touches dripped with appreciation for you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be like this but a thousand times more when you’re actually pregnant.

Then he’d fucked you full the first time, and in the blink of an eye, the tenderness in his eyes was gone. He’d filled you up, yet suddenly, it wasn’t enough. It didn’t help that you begged so sweetly for his cum, with your pretty eyes gazing up at him, glimmering.

He’s never been immune to your eyes.

From then on his grasp had turned bruising. Now he’s got you pressed into the mattress, pouring every ounce of his weight into fucking you.

“Feels so fucking good, Cheol,” you whimper, throat dry and raspy from all the moaning you’ve been doing. Your fingers are weak as they curl into the sheets below, but you need something to cling to or else you might pass out.

“Yeah, look at you still taking it. My fucking girl,” he grunts, digging his fingers into your hips as he arches your back further down, burying his cock impossibly deeper inside you until you swear he’s in your womb. His cum from previous rounds slips out of your hole with every time he punches into you, but Seungcheol makes no effort to push it back inside—it means he’d have to pull out, and, right now, he’d probably rather die than leave the warmth of your walls that clench down on him so tight that they keep him nestled inside.

“Made for me, you know that? You and this pussy were made for me,” he rambles, leaning down until his hard, sweat-slicked chest is pressed to your back. His hot, jagged breaths nip at your ear. “Made to take my cum, to carry my kids.”

“All yours, Cheol,” you manage in a whisper. His rough hands leave your hips, only to cover your own hands as they claw at the sheets, and lace your fingers together. A reminder that he’s still your Seungcheol, your future husband, who loves and cares for you more than anything and would never do anything to hurt you. It makes your heart and your pussy clench.

“Gonna cum again, baby? Can you take one more?” he asks, with a punched out chuckle.

“Fuck- yes, I can take it,” you mewl, voice cracking, mustering up any last remaining strength in you to push back against his hips, shamelessly desperate for cock. “Wanna cum again. Want your cum too.”

It takes everything in Seungcheol not to lose his mind. He wonders how he got so lucky with you, because he’s convinced the gods made you for him and put you in this world. The fact that he also managed to find you is a miracle.

He peels himself off of you, straightens back up, and fucks into you with such vigour that you start to see stars. Or maybe it’s your orgasm, because it’s almost immediate the way your abdomen erupts with a soft glow of pleasure—he’s wrung all the energy out of you so that it’s no longer crashing waves but a gentle pulse. Still, it leaves you breathless and teary-eyed, your pussy clamping down on Seungcheol’s cock, desperate for his seed.

“There it is, good girl,” he coos, watching tenderly as you gasp and shudder from the pleasure subsiding. “I’m right there too, baby, gonna stuff you full again, just how you like it, hm?”

Gentle fingers push strands of hair out of your face, his thumb wiping away the stray tears that roll down your cheek.

“Please, want your baby in me, Cheollie,” you sob.

“I’ll give you a baby. I promised, didn’t I?”

Inside your walls, his cock throbs and pulses with his promise, begging to coat your womb.

“Yes, yes, please! Want it so bad.”

You’re not sure how Seungcheol even has anything left in him, but a moment later and he’s spilling his seed inside you in spurts again, filling you up for the nth time tonight. You smile at the warmth, at the feeling of fullness that nobody but him could give you.

“Baby? Are you okay? Is it too much?” he asks, pulling out of you all too quickly after he’d come back down from his high. Your ‘perfect, doting fiancé’ Seungcheol replaces the ‘rabid animal’ Seungcheol in an instant when his head clears and he takes in the sight of you, covered in fluids and bruises and marks from his mouth and his hands.

“‘m good, just… so tired,” you say, falling to your side with a yawn, grimacing at the feeling of dried cum and spit on your skin as you move.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have kept going, I’m sorry for pushing you that hard,” he says, voice heavy. He lays next to you, stroking your cheek, his eyes glazed over with guilt.

“I would have asked to stop, I promise. You know I can take it,” you tell him, smiling assuredly at him.

“I definitely know that now.” He laughs, albeit nervously.

“Besides, you promised you’d put a baby in me by morning and there’s no way I’m not pregnant after that.”

He watches you pat your tummy and the guilt in his features vanishes then, and in its place comes smug, utterly shameless pride. He has a feeling, just an inkling, that none of this went to waste, that it stuck, that you’re right.

As a sweet slumber takes over you, the last thing you hear is your fiancé’s hushed words of “I love you,” and the feel of his lips against your forehead.

[lexa-griffins]

Why did milf Lexa and her ex split?

Amongst a bunch of other issues, Lexa asked for a divorce because it was clear Jenny had checked out of the marriage a long time ago and that there was no reason for them to stay married as Lexa was basically acting as a single mother of a toddler and a preschooler as well as taking care of the entire house by herself. As for their relationship, they might as well be separated ever since Delilah was born, Jenny was outright mean to Lexa about lack of sex and how she didn't find Lexa attractive anymore after the two babies. And to make matters worse Jenny was basically emotionally cheating on Lexa....

And despite ALL of this, Jenny still has the audacity to be pissed at Lexa for asking for the divorce and "giving up on them"!

[baelarys]

Could you take a shot of aegon x Tyrell? Where she is married to some reach gentleman and ends up having an affair with aegon and resulting in a pregnancy. And when the baby is born and everyone sees that he is platinum, oc's husband freaks out and questions aegon who answers with sarcasm that he may have a dragonrider son and does not like his wife

✾𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞✾

Aegon ii targaryen x Reader Tyrell

word count :990

Warning : Infidelity, pregnancy, bad words , anguts.

It had not stopped raining since morning, and your screams echoed in the room, accompanying the constant rhythm of the rain. You paced back and forth, trying to mitigate the intense pain that came in relentless waves. The midwives followed you, advising you to lie down, but you pushed them away.

You prayed to the gods fervently, begging for their mercy and to help the baby be born healthy. Your red hair stuck to your sweat-beaded forehead, while tears of desperation and effort ran down your cheeks. As you walked, resting a hand on your bulging belly, you felt a sudden release of fluids that soaked the floor of the room.

The pain was unbearable, but it was all worth it when the midwives finally placed the newborn on your chest. You noticed the thin layer of platinum hair that covered his head, an unmistakable feature, but at the time you didn't care. You kissed your son's head as happy tears fell down your cheeks. The baby was crying loudly, his little fists clenched

Your husband entered the room looking with amazement and horror at the newborn he was holding in your arms, before he could say anything you stopped him.

"Luthor, please" you begged with a trembling voice, your eyes filling with tears "This is our son. I beg you to accept it."

The knight stood still, his fists clenched and his face hardened with anger and betrayal. "Don't do it for me… do it for him" you said, holding the newborn into his arms.

Luthor hesitated, his gaze moving from the baby's serene face to your pleading eyes. The room was filled with tension, the air thick with the mix of emotions and the distant sound of the rain that continued to hit the windows. Finally, with a mixture of resignation and hopelessness, he reached out and took the child.

You spent the next few days in your chambers, surrounded only by your husband, a few midwives, and little Edmund. No one else had seen the newborn. His platinum hair and brown eyes, just like yours, looked around with endless curiosity.

You and Luthor didn't discuss the topic of the baby's paternity, and you both decided not to mention it to anyone. However, it was not surprising that rumors were already spreading in the corridors from the rats of the Red Keep. The gossip spread like a slow fire, and even if it wasn't openly discussed, you knew that many eyes were on your family.

It wasn't until a heated argument between Prince Aegon and your husband that Lord Tyrell burst into your room, his face burning with fury, declaring that they would return to Highgarden. You were surprised, since you had come to King's Landing on court business and you did not expect such a hasty return.

"Prepare your things, we leave at dawn" Luthor ordered, his voice trembling with suppressed anger. His eyes flashed with a mix of pain and determination that disturbed you deeply.

You tried to stay calm as you processed his words. "What happened? ,Why are we coming back so soon?" you asked softly, although you already knew the answer, Luthor strode over, his face grim and his fists still clenched.

"Aegon" he began in a harsh voice. "He had the audacity to say that you should be grateful to have fathered the son of a dragon rider" That insolence was the last straw.

The air became thick and heavy in the room. You instantly understood the impact of those words on your husband. The humiliation and betrayal had been too much for him, and Aegon, with his arrogance, had pushed Luthor over the edge.

"Luthor" you said, trying to reach for his hand to offer comfort, but he jerked away, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"There is nothing more to discuss" he replied in a sharp voice. "Highgarden is our home, far from the viperous tongues and inquisitive eyes of this rotten court."

You sighed, resigned. You knew that insisting would only make things worse. As you prepared to leave, your mind was filled with worries about the future. How would you face life in Highgarden with the stigma of infidelity and the birth of Edmund? However, the innocence of your son and his future were your main concern.

While leaving King's Landing meant escaping immediate scrutiny, it also meant facing suspicion and judgment in the Tyrell ancestral home.

You decided to take one last walk through the halls of the Red Keep before leaving. You wanted to record in your memory every corner, every detail of that place that had witnessed your most intense and complex moments. With every step, you felt the weight of the decisions made and the consequences you would face upon returning to Highgarden.

You turned into a hallway and suddenly, someone slammed you against the wall, holding you firmly by the waist. The impact left you momentarily breathless and before you could react, you felt lips smash against yours in a rough and messy manner.

Your first instinct was to resist, but the unmistakable platinum hair and the intensity of his gaze piercing you confirmed it was Aegon.

The force of his kiss spoke of desperation and desire, an attempt to hold on to something he knew he was about to lose.

"Aegon" you tried to say between their kisses, but he didn't let you finish, his mouth covering yours again, silencing any protests. His hands gripped your waist with palpable need, as if he could prevent your departure with his touch.

Finally, you managed to pull away slightly, panting with the effort. "I have to go" you whispered, your words barely audible as you tried to regain your composure.

"I can't let you go like this" Aegon rasped, his forehead resting against yours. —You know this isn't fair, that I need you here.

"I can't stay here anymore" you whispered, barely containing the emotion in your voice. You felt Aegon bury his face in your neck, leaving a trail of sloppy and desperate kisses over your skin.

"Don't say that" Aegon murmured against your neck, his voice vibrating with a mix of sadness and desire. His hands gripped your waist tightly, as if his touch could prevent the inevitable.

"I must go" you insisted softly, trying to remain firm in your decision. You felt his lips move slowly over your skin, his kisses leaving a burning trail that contrasted with the cold of the stone behind your back

Aegon pulled away slightly, his intense gaze searching yours. "Is this really what you want?" he asked with a voice heavy with pain. "Leave everything we've had here?"

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "It's not a matter of wanting" you finally said. "It's what I should do for my family. I can't continue living in this chaos"

You pulled away from Aegon gently, leaving one last kiss on his lips. "See you, my prince" you whispered, saying goodbye with a mixture of resignation and a spark of amusement in your eyes.

You turned around and started walking down the hallway, feeling his gaze on your back. Each step towards the exit of the Red Keep felt lighter than the last. You had decided to face the future with a more optimistic attitude, knowing that this farewell was necessary.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 17

George is so sweet to put so much effort into helping Ringo write his song and to not ask for any kind of writing credit. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you, right? But also, I’d do that for Ringo too if I were him. Ringo deserves it for everything he’s given to that band and the little credit he’s received. 

“What am I playing, Richie?” “You’ll be on drooms.” If the Beatles know how to do one thing, it’s be cute. 

John, stop talking about Paul’s strong arms, you're embarrassing yourself. 

I do have to just include this here. From my Get Back book. I never heard, “was it sexually oriented?” on the nagra reels, but apparently that’s what Peter Jackson’s cleaned-up version gave him, and again, he was like, “hmm. Too gay.” 

He’s known Heather for how long? Less than a year, right? But if somebody had showed me just this footage and told me he’d raised her from a newborn, I would not blink an eye. That kind of tired but fond interaction is exactly how a dad plays with his kid. And she’s climbing all over him and bossing him around like he’s never not been in her life. It’s beautiful. 

And John, with his “are you going to eat them?” is the perfect sort of bad-example favorite uncle. The kind that would check her out of school when she’s older and go get her ears pierced when her dad had said she was too young. 

Sorry, I promise I’m not just going to be thirsting over dad Paul this whole time. I have to just make one thing clear, and this is the only thing I’ll say on the subject and then I’m done. If a man is a 3 and a good dad, he’s a 10. Paul was already an 11, so I’m literally just done-for. Okay, I’ll shut up. 

John and Paul doing their usual thing, only paying attention to each other. Talking about an Elvis gospel ending for Let it Be. George, smirking, stands up: and we’ll all kneel as you do it. If John had said it, Paul would be in stitches. But George said it, and he might as well have never opened his mouth for all the notice he gets. And it’s honestly heartbreaking, if you can take your eyes off of the insanity of John and Paul’s weird eye-contact, to watch George’s face go from excited at his own wit and hopeful for a laugh to just completely downcast. Twelve years of that. Twelve years. 

Ringo, you’re an absolute saint. He’s being so sweet to Heather, even letting her mess with his symbols, and then Paul has the audacity to tell him to “keep it lighter.” Like. Paul. Do you think that maybe the fact that he’s got a five-year-old over there “helping” him might have anything to do with how the drums are coming out? Just a thought. Anyone else would at least have something to say about it. Ringo just sort of nods along but he looks SO tired.

TFW you’re inspiring the next generation of women to be loud and free and take up space.

“Dig it” is actually insane to me. I know I’m crazy, but remember those twin dreams they had about buried treasure when they first met? “If you want it, you can dig it up.” ???

When George and Paul just jump into harmonizing together when they’re talking about The Long and Winding Road arrangement? Their voices are like magic together. I wish they would’ve had George sing that part in the final thing, actually.  

[celuere]

Ahoy there favorable blogger of Tumblr, may thou humble followers gain knowledge of the breeds and names of them silly kitties? One has surely fallen in love with thy silly kitties.

YOU ASKED ME ABOUT MY SONS. I WILL NEVER SHUT UP EVER AGAIN.

OKAY SO. the one on the left is max (short for maxicus, don’t ask.), on the right is sticker

i‘ll be honest with you anon, i have 0 idea what breed they are. what i do know is that they’re actually half-brothers! so i think max is 100% a shorthair cat, i sadly can’t give you the exact breed but i‘m pretty sure sticker is strong mix of short hair and a maine coon

max is your average tuxedo cat. dramatic. dumb. stubborn. entitled. a diva. i think he was a broadway actor in his past life and just happened to be reborn as a moody tuxedo kitty. you pick him up and after five seconds he is acting as if i took away his newborn AND food. he literally dumps his sh*t into the bathtub if the cat toilet isn’t clean enough for his liking. he isn‘t fond of strangers at all and mostly keeps to himself, but he also isnt aggressive, just leave him be. he actually wasn‘t always like that, when he was a kitten he happened to be very cuddly and affectionate but then puberty hit. cat puberty is no joke.

and looking at sticker, i do have to giggle now because he is the polar opposite of his brother. he LOVES strangers, cuddling, and food. this guy is the biggest bigback of bigbacks. when he was a little kitten we had to feed them separately because he wouldn’t stop eating max‘s food, he will also literally do anything in his power to get a piece of your plate if you eat in front of him. he is so greedy i always wonder where he stores all that audacity. compared to max he is also really small, he turns two years old this year and just stopped growing when he was eight months old or so. he also insists on me tucking him in as well when i (we) go to bed.

i also love making him look stupid.

[transfemme-shelterdog]

I dislike that we as trans people are shoved into boxes. "Men need to act like this," "women need to act like that." And while a lot of it does apply to cis people, it hits trans people even harder. A trans man can't wear nail polish or a bit of eyeshadow without being called fake, a transtrender, "actually a dumb girl who can't make these decisions." And if trans women aren't 100% passing and the epitome of femininity and beauty, then they're "actually just men trying to get into women's spaces to hurt them." It fucking sucks.

I'm a trans guy, 100% binary. I want to carry my own kid(s). I've had other trans men SCREECH at me for this. Calling me fake and a disgrace to trans men, being told I'm actually just a woman or nonbinary (but it's obvious they use "nonbinary" to mean "woman lite"). And don't get me started on how people, both cis and trans, react when I tell them I've considered being called mother/mom instead of father/dad. You'd think I just killed their newborn and fed it to cheetas.

I messed around with the label of nonbinary. I tried living as a woman, even detransitioned for a year to try again. It was all terrible. I know who I am. I know I'm a man. Me wanting to do traditionally "female things" doesn't affect that.

I've even been told by (well-meaning) people that being the carrier of the child + the more "submissive" one in the relationship doesn't mean I have to be a mother instead of a father. But that's not it. It's not about gender roles or "moms do this" and "dads do that." It's purely about vibes. The vibes between mom and dad are different to me, maybe because of how I was raised, even when they're performing the same childcare and spousal duties.

When I think of myself as a mom, I think of my mom. And I love her to death. She's an incredibly comforting prescence and I've wanted to be like her since I was 10. Me being trans doesn't mean I have to give that up. It just means I do everything I was going to do but just a little to the left instead.

My mom is an incredibly resilient, durable person. Very stubborn and takes absolutely no shit. She's 5ft of fury and audacity, and I've seen her knock out 6ft+ men. The type that have working muscle too, like firefighters and carpenters, not gymbros. And at the same time, she's never raised her voice at me, was always gentle and protective, worked her ass off and did her best every day. What child wouldn't want to be like their mom when their mom is like that?

That's not to say my dad did nothing. He's very loving, but he's a very distant man. I know he'd fight to the death for me. He'd risk everything, he'd kill someone if needed. But my mom would use her body to shield me a thousand times over, all while comforting me and wiping my tears and telling me that it's going to be okay. And she'd show no pain. Hell, she'd smile and tell me she loves me. You know what I mean?

That's the kind of parent I want to be. Can I be that as a dad? Yeah. But I feel more connected to my mom when I think of myself as a mom. What's the harm in that?

Plus, I'm gay. It'll be easier to know which parent my kid is calling for when we're not both called dad.

Tldr; gender roles are stupid and I should get to pick if I want to be called mom or carry my own kid even if I'm a man

As a binary, 100% trans girl (well, girl dog but that's another story), I'm kinda the opposite? I want to adhere to gender roles strictly and not deviate at all. Closest you'd get label wise is me being a "tomboy". I like metal (Not Metallica metal, but like metal metal, shit like Menstrual Vampires, Cattle Decap, Dead Neanderthals, etc), I'm very athletic, and I enjoy gaming. Plus my wardrobe is mainly metal shirts/cardigans and leggings. But I also really enjoy looking pretty in a little black dress, heels, my hair done, and makeup.

I fully support you playing with gender norms and I agree, it's a shame that our own people are treating you like that. Your logic for why you'd want to be called mom and have kids is totally sound, and I think it's totally cool and awesome.

Trans people who play with gender norms are as valid as those that adhere to it.

[soulsuckker1]

I sometimes see people saying how Rhaena should just have given Androw Farman a child and none of the things he did would have happened. As a professional women defender, here’s the list of the reasons why Rhaena never wanted more kids and the severe trauma she went through:

1. Just a little bit after the death of her father, her throne (yes I said it) got usurped by her uncle

2. After the usurpation, while heavily pregnant she had to go and hide from Maegor

3. Not even a year later with newborn twins she loses her husband, because that same uncle killed him and the dragon of her father

4. Loses her younger brother, because of Maegor, as he was tortured and died because of it

5. Then Maegor forcefully married her and parted her from one of her kids

6. With everything that was happening she never had proper time to bond with her twins

7. After her marriage to Maegor she was separated from Dreamfyre and was in complete isolation

8. After Maegor’s death she again got pushed aside and her throne was taken by her younger brother

9. Married Androw and it was painfully obvious from the start that she has interest in his sister and that they are lovers

10. On the mention of Alysanne Farman, her betrayal deeply hurt Rhaena as she stole three dragon eggs and ran away from Dragonstone after Rhaena told her she will be hurt if she leaves her

11. Her daughter Rhaella was made into a septa and barely saw her since she then

12. Her daughter Aerea never liked Dragonstone and due to her never having a moment of peace their relationship was strained

13. Aerea bonded with Belarion and they went missing for a year with no traces of them and she searched everywhere for her

14. Aerea returns after a year, but something has happened to her and she died a bit after she returned

15. After she scatters the ashes of Aerea, her younger sister (who might we add, that she basically raised) has the audacity to tell her that she’s young and she could have more children

16. Then this little bitch Androw poisoned all of her ladies in waiting, friends and even her cousin

17. That said cousin Lianna Velaryon dies in her arms

18. The death of her mother, as she had gotten pregnant at the age of 46 and did not survive the birth

19. Jahaerys and Alysanne’s constant nagging for her to marry another man

20. Spent the last years of her life in a lot of pain and sadness and died alone in Harrenhal

So yes if I was her I would also not want any other man to touch me, let alone have more children after I basically did not get a chance to properly raise my first two

[kindred-spirit-93]

au-niverse expansion

hello had a thought this morning (i need to stop having them lol) abt a potential new angle of the oikoi au where hermione is sent to live with penelope when helen is abducted!

she knows her 'auntie' penelope and refuses to let anyone else be her primary caretaker. her father tries to reason with her to stay at home where she grew up, where its familiar, and where everyone knows her and will seek to protect her, but she refuses.

he cant stand seeing the tears that well in her eyes, just like helens. he arranges a convoy to send her and a very apologetic letter to the king and queen of ithaca, who have their own newborn to worry about.

shenanigans ensue. idk i really want to explore the 10 years of troy from penelopes perspective esp ruling a kingdom while raising her son (and now niece) and keeping herself together. and also another 10 years that is much darker and heavier and tackles her trauma bc she too became a monster rawr rawr rawr at some point, just differently.

--

and then hermione is sent on her merry way home when menelaus and helen send for her after writing a letter confirming their victory and shipwreck i think it was (diomedes had kindly written to her telling her the war was over and the ships had set sail homewards but she hadnt heard from anyone and the horizons were empty).

anyway now with newfound hope odysseus is merely having sat nav issues lol. she loads hermiones ship with gifts to welcome helen home including plenty of fabric and pieces of her own design

(something i reeeally want to add lol is that telemachus goes with her after winning a bet with penelope to let him go, and well he is his fathers son so he trots off and has a grand week with his aunt and uncle. menelaus tells him of his fathers cunning blah blah tele is even more pumped to meet his dad omg poor bby).

and then when he returns he suddenly finds several guests?? penelope is shook and trying to handle the situation with grace. tele is half hiding behind her and holding onto her robes, a hand is on his head and the other over he heart.

the 'guests' only increase in number and nothing is quite the same. at least his aunt ctimene and cousin eupehmia are still here. only a few years down the line they too are forced away and it really is tele and pen against 108 horrid men whos audacity only grows with their appetites.

AND THEN when tele goes to search for his dad the gut punch is the parallel of menelaus being like son ur father is the most badass lil shit ive ever known to son idk how to tell you but but hes not coming home. idk lots of crying here

the point is its all told through penelopes perspective and several external povs bc those are fun and give u, well, new perspectives XD

currently toturing all my blorbos. let them weep (harder)

@notsolonedesert hi >:3

[astoldbychae]

I SWEAR I'm about to fling my laptop across the country...

This game is determined to not let me have nice things! Personally, I think it's Marguerite's ass trying to inflict misery on everyone she comes across because. . .

WHY DOES TRACE (Marguerite's younger brother) HAVE A CHILD WITH JUDITH WARD. . .AND KATRINA CALIENTE! 😩 Just when I thought things were going good for him with Bria, I randomly check the Webber's genealogy panel and boom -- THERE'S TWO LIL NEWBORNS UNDERNEATH HIS FACE! Then he has the audacity to have full friendship AND relationship bars with Judy and Katrina! GIRLLLLL! Get me outta here!

Then Slim (Marguerite's other baby daddy) has a thing for Dina Caliente. His romantically reserved ass stays getting whims to suck all on her neck and shit! LIKE! I'm trying to figure out when the hell he met her but then I realized, his sister Dynasty lives next door to them in Oasis Springs and the welcome wagon happened while he was visiting her.

I decide to put them all in a new save & let them have full autonomy and THIS is what they do!? I wanna speak to the manager NEOW because WTF!?

[aidanchaser]

Happy holidays and happy new year @van1shiro! I was your secret santa for the ashville exchange. I am sorry I could not get your pokemon blorbo into it; I did read his wiki page but I did not feel I would do him justice in my ignorance. But I did do some digging and see you mention that you enjoyed a soft Kagami, so I hope you like this tender Feligami fic with a side of LadyNoir

Beta'd by @samsimisauser Title: Steady Word Count: 2219 Relationships: Feligami, background LadyNoir/Adrinette Additional Tags: Ice Skating, Felix & Chat Noir rivalry, Soft Kagami, post-s5, Romance

Félix would prefer to skip this part of the day. He watches Ladybug and Chat Noir glide across the ice, a picture of perfection in their magically enhanced costumes like a matching pair of snow angels. Félix wonders if he would feel better or worse to be present as Argos at the moment.

He glances over his shoulder to where Adrien is supposed to be, but Adrien’s seat is empty. Félix understands, but he is bitterly envious that Adrien has somehow managed to slip away.

“Ready?” Kagami asks.

Félix nods and tries to ignore the way his stomach churns with uncertainty.

Walking feels like moving with weights tied to his ankles, and his knees bend warily, terrified that the tip of the blade is going to nick the floor and he will go sprawling flat on his face. As Kagami pulls him onto the ice, Félix suddenly recalls every video he has ever seen of newborn fawns trying to walk. His legs slip to the left and right like magnets repelled at his ankles.

“Is this why you didn’t want to come?” Kagami asks with a small laugh and pulls him upright.

There are a number of reasons Félix did not want to come. This was one of them.

In fact, he did not need to be here. This event is a celebration of Ladybug and Chat Noir, to thank them for all that they have done for Paris. Adrien was invited in honor of what his father had done for the city—the irony of the invite still grates against Félix—and Kagami was invited as well, since Mrs. Tsurugi seemed to get lumped into these events as if she were riding on the coattails of Gabriel’s “sacrifice.”

Félix has managed to escape all of that sort of notoriety, thankfully, though he makes an appearance whenever Kagami asks for his company.

Like today. She asked him to be her ice skating partner. He asked her if it was important to her. She said it wasn’t, exactly, but that since Adrien had sprained his ankle fencing yesterday, she would have no one to skate with. She said that if Félix said no, perhaps she would ask Luka.

Félix immediately agreed to attend.

“I’m not particularly… experienced in this sort of thing,” Félix says, still trying to figure out how someone is meant to keep their feet beneath them as they move on the ice. The ice seems determined to force him into the splits, one way or another.

But the ice itself is just one reason he was afraid to come. As Ladybug and Chat Noir glide past him and Kagami—and as Chat Noir has the audacity to laugh at his uneasiness—the real reason for his hesitation curls around his stomach like a vice.

He pulls his legs together out of sheer force of will and manages to move forward with Kagami. He finds that moving faster is far easier than moving slower, like riding a bicycle.

“Oh, did��did Adrien leave?” he hears Ladybug’s voice as they glide past.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Chat Noir’s reply comes distantly. “He said he had an injury, didn’t he? Maybe he just wanted to step away for a minute.”

But Ladybug chews on her lower lip nervously and Félix can’t blame her.

If anyone should be on the ice with Adrien today, it should be Marinette. He wonders what it’s been like for her, who has watched Adrien disappear at these types of events. He arrives, waves, smiles, and vanishes just as the celebrations begin—usually not long after Ladybug arrives. 

Félix can’t help but wonder what it’s like to worry if your partner secretly hates you. But he can’t exactly ask Marinette how she feels about it, how she manages the careful balancing act she’s constructed for herself.

“You’re getting the hang of it,” Kagami says, and Félix gives her a wry smile.

The rest of the guests have now taken to the ice and at least Ladybug and Chat Noir have to stop lapping him and Kagami to hold the hands of the small children who clamor for their attention. 

“What’s really on your mind?” she asks.

“Marinette,” he says, which is true, but not the whole truth.

Kagami glances to where Ladybug is tying the laces of a child’s skates and Chat Noir has been mobbed by four other children, who are pulling him down to the ice as deftly as any akuma Hawk Moth could have dreamed up.

“She seems to be handling herself well. I imagine she is upset she cannot be with Adrien at the moment.”

“But would he want to be with Ladybug?” Félix asks, and bites his tongue too late to stop the question from falling from his tongue.

Kagami takes both of Félix’s hands and pulls him along. She has no trouble sliding backwards across the ice, comfortable in the small space at this end of the rink, away from Ladybug, Chat Noir, and the crowd of children.

Now that she’s facing him he can see the way her worry draws her eyebrows in and her lips pucker ever so slightly. “Why are you worried about Adrien and Ladybug?”

“I just—you know, I wondered if… if he blamed her.”

“But that is not the sort of thing you care about. You’ve never brought it up before.”

Because they had discussed Adrien and Ladybug a dozen times before. They had even discussed Adrien with Ladybug a dozen times before. And Kagami is right, Félix has never brought this new thought to the discussion. Because it’s not really the thought on his mind. 

But as direct as he is with his own intentions, he struggles to be so open with his own motivations.

He envies and admires Kagami’s certainty. He knows she has her insecurities; she’s bared them to him before, but she is so good at presenting them as facts to be analyzed. He finds it easier to bury his than lay them bare.

“I suppose,” he says slowly, allowing his words to move with the careful pace of his skates as he tries to maintain control over his body, “I am thinking about what it is to see someone as a hero. And what it is to see them as a villain. And what it is to see a hero as a villain. Or perhaps the reverse.”

Kagami’s slight pucker turns into a full frown. He can practically see it on her face, the way she pulls what she knows against this new information. He imagines the way she must turn it over in her head until the pieces fit together appropriately.

He is so in love with the way her mind works. If Félix believed in a higher power, he might feel grateful. Instead, he just feels lucky.

“You are thinking about yourself,” she finally says. “You are thinking about Argos.”

He nods once.

She lets his hands go to put her hand to her chin thoughtfully and he flounders without her support. He drifts into the wall of the ice rink before his feet can fully go out from under him and he pulls himself as upright and dignified as he can manage.

But Kagami is now lost in her own thoughts and drifting out of his reach. He takes a deep breath and pushes off of the wall, allows the momentum to carry him faster than he is comfortable with, and trusts that she will stabilize him when he reaches her.

The gap between them vanishes. He reaches for her arm as he passes her. She instinctively grabs his wrist and they spin for a moment before she steadies them, just as he had hoped.

Her face is still pensive, but there’s a glint in her eyes that suggests she feels she has stumbled on an answer. “Those that you trust also trust you, do they not? What should it matter what others think?”

She is talking about herself, of course, and Ladybug to an extent. But those aren’t the only people who matter. “And the rest of the team?” he asks. <i>Chat Noir</i>, he thinks, though he doesn’t dare say it. He thinks Ladybug’s partner will die hating him, and that’s fine with Félix. He’ll even gladly be the one to put the incompetent idiot in an early grave. 

“They’re your friends,” she says.

But they weren’t always. Ladybug’s friends get to save Paris at their leisure because Félix once thought it was a good idea to steal the miraculous jewels out from under her. They’re only lately heroes because Félix is the one who made sure that there was a time when they couldn’t be heroes. Surely they know that.

“They’re… colleagues,” he says, which is a generous statement. “And they—they get to take their masks off.”

Kagami hums and looks up at the glass ceiling overhead and the grey skies above. Félix realizes suddenly that somewhere in this conversation she began drifting and he has been the one leading them. He hadn’t even noticed.

He flails again as he becomes aware of his feet, but her grip on his forearms is steady, and she keeps him from falling.

“Don’t overthink it,” she says.

He swallows and tries not to. Though if overthinking were an Olympic sport, Félix thinks he would take the gold without challenge. Well, maybe Marinette would be a close contender.

“If you don’t have a mask,” she says, “then everyone knows you. To be known is not so terrible a thing.”

<i>But it is</i>, he thinks, because to be known is to be predictable. And to be predictable is to risk being trapped. He has lived his life on his toes, acting in advance because to react is danger. He will not let himself be cornered, and if that means reinventing himself so that no one else can identify the boundaries he lives in, then he will do it without hesitation.

She pulls him close, defying the draw of the ice that threatens to drag him down, and slots one skate between his so that they move in a perfect two-step rhythm across the glass beneath their feet. 

“I will always be proud,” she whispers, “to be the one who knew you first. The one who truly saw you as you are. And you are the one who saw me, more of me than I even knew. And is that so terrible a thing?”

And it’s not, not when it’s her.

He kisses her, there on the ice where any onlooker can see. It is the softest part of his heart, but he bares it despite his fear because this moment isn’t about him, not really. It’s about her. It’s about letting her know that he sees her. It’s about making sure that she knows how much he loves what he sees in her.

And it’s a little bit about him, about letting her know that it’s okay that she sees him, that this part of who they are is loved, that what they are and who they are is loveable.

Somewhere behind them, Chat Noir blows a loud raspberry. Ladybug’s gentle scolding is lost amongst the giggles of children. Behind his back, Félix flashes a patriotic two-fingered salute at Chat Noir. He does not expect the idiot to understand what it means, and he is surprised when he hears a strangled, pearl-clutching sort of gasp. It’s more worldly knowledge than he ever expected from a hero that Félix considers little more than a comedian who holds the potential to accidentally burn the world.

“Leave them be, mon minou,” Ladybug’s soft voice carries across the ice, touched more with amusement than exasperation.

Chat Noir sighs, dramatic and bursting with exasperation. “Anything for you, my lady.”

Félix and Kagami part, just in time to see Chat Noir yank Ladybug into his arms. Her startled yelp turns into a giggle as the two of them glide in perfect unison across the ice. It’s a seamless partnership, and a new worry settles into Félix’s gut as he catches a glimpse of the gentle smile on Chat Noir’s face. What drastic actions might he be forced to take if Chat Noir were to steal Marinette from his cousin?

Kagami’s hand meets his cheek, a gentle reminder of where his attention ought to be. He presses his forehead to hers, an action as intimate as he can have without losing sight of her smile. It’s still restrained, the way all of her is restrained—something he knows as well as she does—but it is warm and comfortable in its familiarity. He knows her, and she knows him.

With her, he does not need to worry about the dangers of being predictable. He can be comfortable with being known, relish it even. 

He kisses her again, and he feels her hesitant laugh against his lips more than he hears it. Her hands meet at the back of his neck and his at her waist. He’s no longer thinking about the ice beneath them, or Chat Noir somewhere behind them, nor even the crowd of Parisians around them. He has what he needs to be stable. The rest of it may fall away, come and go, but he’ll always have this. She trusts him, and her trust is all that matters.

[ravingsockmonkey]

My top 24 screenshots for 2024

I got tagged by @changingplumbob for this, and woo I've got my work cut out for me! Genuinely, it was tough coming up with ONLY 24 screenshots. I could have kept on going until I hit the 30 cap.

To help make things feel a bit less chaotic (at least for me), I'll put SF1, SF2, and MISC to distinguish between save file 1 and save file 2 (which function as semi-connected AUs) and screenshots from miscellaneous saves that don't see as much consistent gameplay (like ones used to test patches and mods). Don't feel bad if none of that makes sense, lol.

Stuffing all the screenshotty goodness under the cut so folks can scroll on by if they would like.

1 - OK, I know this is not quite in the spirit of things mayhaps, but every time I look at this I want to scream. It's the only one that actually has a number ranking because of the sheer audacity of it all. Mr. Darrel Fucking Charm, a man with two toddlers in the other room (from two other sims I might add), actively taking care of a newborn who is one of a set of twins, that the man himself sired from an autonomous try for baby interaction in a pre-LS save that only had the Open Love Life mod installed at the time with his partner, Johnny, who he had only known for less than a full in game day, has assessed the situation at hand and is like "I want to do it again." - SF1

2 - Werewolf toddlers are great, and Rachael Charm was the cutest toddler! - SF1

3 - Darrel Charm being absolutely fed up with Casey Goth breaking into his house and stealing his tomes. - SF1

4 - "I want to be like dad!" Stephen and Malcolm Landgraab (don't worry, this Malcolm's actually a good dad) - SF2

5 - I made a basement pool for Caleb and Don - MISC

6 - Johnny Zest not-so-subtly sending a message to his parents. - MISC

7 - "STOP CALLING MY SISTER" - Robin Charm confronts her sister's dead-beat bio mom after she did one of those guilt trippy "when are you coming to visit?" calls. - SF2

8 - Finding your ex in the trash where you left him. - SF2

9 - Azure Goth finds Max Villareal's (they/them) Duplicato clone, Valentino (they/them) wandering around Willow Creek near her home. For some reason they refused to despawn. She took them home, lol. - SF2

10 - Speaking of Max, a copy of them got sucked into SF1 whenever Casey Goth tried to Necrocall the actual SF1!Max. So technically two Maxs exist in SF1: this one (shown with Lucas Munch [they/them]) and the actual world's Max (he/him) who is a ghost. - SF1

11 - That time whenever I got jumpscared by a vampire sim I made myself and put in a Racoon costume because it was funny at the time. - SF1

12 - Eileen Spurlock, mother of Bo Cash, claiming his death was a loss of no one of any importance. - MISC

13 - "Is there someone you forgot to ask?" - MISC

14 - Hector, can you please fuck off? - MISC

15 - A revived Bo Cash reunites with his sister, Meghan Spurlock, after years of no contact. - MISC

16 - Johnny Zest wearing the shortest shorts known to sim and humankind. - MISC

17 - Dusty Charm sitting with Grandma Charm's rocket missing her. - MISC

18 - Jeb's love and regret. - SF1

19 - Max Villareal, evil horse girl. - MISC

20 - TFW you fumble your Watcher-made relationship so badly that you practically hand him to your little brother (featuring Max Villareal [they/them], Erich Villareal, and Orlando Villareal). - SF2

21 - Best girl, Allie, giving smooches to Joshua Landgraab. - SF2

22 - Two brothers, each bound by the night in their own way, meet together under the moon to reconcile and reconnect. - SF1

23 - Toe in Mouth milestone! Harry Charm is a cutie~ - SF1

24 - Noah. Fucking. Harris. Enough said. - SF2

[quitealotofsodapop]

I imagine the Jade Emperor is feeling very, Very Stupid for thinking Wukong's claims of needing those layers of immortality was just an excuse after he gets the report that Wukong gave birth to a healthy baby boy, literally named 'Little Heaven,' only to very nearly die in the process, something no immortal thought was even possible when they consider how many layers of stolen immortality Wukong had. Like, Wukong had the most outrageous claim that was proven true within his own throne room and by his own wife, and now he's in his personal infirmary (Queen Mother insisted after helping Wukong give birth, she gets very attached because of course she does, its MK) just barely hanging onto life. Needless to say, the trial is postponed. Macaque refuses to be separated from Wukong or their cub until Wukong wakes up, which means no mobilizing the army until Wukong is awake, especially since they've confirmed that the same restrained used to keep Wukong down all those centuries ago simply will not work with Macaque.

By all rights, that cub should have been an orphan, and it was only by the sheer audacity, stubborness, and thousands of years of work put through by his parents that he has both Wukong and Macaque to watch over him. Wukong had been right, something nobody outside of his family and friends can really comprehend.

referencing Wukong having the Century Stone Egg in the middle of Heavenly Court + Wukong getting KO'd by it.

The Jade Emperor is feeling Stupid with a capitial S.

The Queen Mother is furious with her husband for not believing Wukong's claim about his reasons for immortality, but also angry with herself for not recognising that the monkey had gone into labor in her own palace. Had she'd known centuries ago that Wukong had wanted to safely have a child, she may have been able to help him with his goal, and would have forgiven the theft of her divine Peaches far earlier.

Plus, the "Little Heaven" is the cutest little furball anyone in the palace has seen in centuries. And if the Queen Mother has been caught cooing over the little cub no bigger than her thumb, then thats her business.

Lao Tzu is monitoring and documenting *everything*; weights, movements, heart rates, blood samples, anything that could give him knowledge of Wukong and the baby's conditon, but also give insight to what he and Gold Star know about Stone Monkeys. It's like having a unicorn at a vets, he can't not be excited!

The Peach Maidens visit Wukong and the baby with prayers of health and of luck. They were the very few in Heaven that suspected their attendant brother had stolen the Peaches for reasons other than gluttony. They're all super bummed out to see him in his deep sleep, and help to change his bedding and apply medicines to give his mate and found family a break.

Macaque is a bit of a gloomy mess at this point. Jumping between a silent vigil over Wukong's sleeping body, or performing a whole shadow play for their newborn cub as a bedtime story. Xiaotian truly is a little piece of Heaven for him, and he understands fully why Wukong risked and sacrificed so much for the chance to meet them.

The reincarnation/noodle shop gang are extremely supportive during this time, finally having a chance to get to know Macaque outside of their less-than-ideal meeting. Tang keeps the shadow monkey busy by telling him stories (fact-checked by Wukong himself) of the Monkey King's journeys after the couple's last meeting. Sandy teaches him ways to relax during these rough times. And Pigsy hasn't let Mac go without a meal since he got there (how the pig got into the royal kitchen, they'll never know).

The Ao Longs are very solemn during this time too. They nearly lost Mei when her egg came early, and they're super protective of Wukong and his baby while the monkey is unconcious. Little Mei met Xiaotian for the first time a few days after he was born, and hasn't lost the enchanted look in her eyes since.

Redson acts out by head-butting any stranger that comes near Wukongs' room, including celestial guards, noblemen, servants, and even his own (unknowning) divine grandparents. He declares The Monkey King and the baby under his protection! Secretly though, he curls up to Wukong at times and whispers not to "go back to long-sleep again" since it would make his Mama and Uncle Mac sad. :(

Wukong finally wakes up after a couple of days, and is overjoyed to awaken to see him and his baby both alive and well. His "Little Heaven" truly is worth all those centuries of planning <3

[astraystayyh]

israel bombed a HOSPITAL in gaza murdering so many children and newborns and women and elderly and men i feel so sick to my stomach i just saw a video and they're all scattered on the ground lifeless my god how can you still stand with that evil evil state? how can you still have the audacity to utter to even think 'Pray for Israel'?? why did the world give up on its humanity where are the international laws where are the fucking repercussions?? israel won't stop until it wipes off the entirety of gaza i am so angry and sad and i feel so fucking powerless im shaking what has our world come to

"Intentionally directing attacks against hospitals and places where the sick and wounded are collected is prohibited under international humanitarian law, provided they are not military objectives. Any such intentional attacks are WAR CRIMES." LIKE WHY ARE WE WATCHING AS ISRAEL COMMITS WAR CRIME AFTER WAR CRIME???? to attack a hospital murdering more than FIVE HUNDRED people and for it to go unpunished????? what is this what the fuck is going on why is this not maddening anyone

[meandheraresoulmates]

Drunk-dazed — a dodgerfox fanfic

Fandom: The Artful Dodger (2023)

Warnings: none

Relationship: Jack "the Artful Dodger" Dawkins/ Belle Fox

Characters: Jack "the Artful Dodger" Dawkins, Belle Fox

Tags: Fluff / missing scene from 1x06 / canon compliant / kissing / lots of kissing / just a hint of smut / Jack centric / 3rd person narrator

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Belle had the audacity to huff, «Of course not, don't be ridiculous. I dismissed the coachman a few blocks from here so that even if my parents suspect something, he won't tell a thing.» «That was quite smart of you» Jack admitted, relishing in the satisfied smile that made its way up Belle's face. «But how did you plan on returning?» For the first time since they met, Belle looked almost sheepish. «I was rather hoping that you'd walk me home» she muttered, not meeting his eyes. or, the missing scene we all were waiting for between 1x06 and 1x07

AO3

Jack Dawkins had been drunk before - hell, he was a sailor. They handed him his first pint long before he could call those sparse blonde hairs on his chin stubble. But no amount of alcohol in his system had ever come close to the feeling of Lady Belle's body pressed on his front, her lips on his and her scent filling his nostrils, leaving him lightheaded and weak in the knees.

It was almost pathetic, he thought in a fleeting moment of clarity before losing himself again in the intoxication that came from her closeness - the way Belle had manhandled him and pushed a bewildered Jack against that pillar. She was the inexperienced one - not that they had ever talked about experiences of that kind, he just knew that Milady had never been with a man like that before.

Yet here she was, soft mouth moving fervently against his, hands laced in his ruffled locks, not giving a care in the world about what anyone could see and think. She was facing the physical aspect of their newborn relationship the same way she took on surgery and everything medicine-related: head-on, confident, and daring, taking everything in her path as it belonged to her. Jack would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that it was her brilliance, her sharp mind and even sharper tongue that pulled him in like a moth to a flame, that lit a fire in his belly and gave him a sense of euphoria that 'till that moment only thievery had granted him.

He almost didn't recognize himself when a low hum escaped his throat. Belle was running her nails down his scalp, and it felt heavenly. Goosebumps erupted on his skin and he needed her close, closer than what was deemed sensitive outside a beaten-up tavern, even if sensibleness was thrown out the window the moment he put her mouth on hers. His hands sneaked around the heavy clock on her shoulders to latch on her waist and he pulled her flush to his chest; a gasp escaped her now swollen and moist lips and Jack was all too eager to swallow it, slanting his mouth on hers and grazing her lower lip with the tip of his tongue.

He moved one of his hands up between her shoulder blades while the other anchored Belle against him when he realized something - and before all blood left his head and went south, he forcibly tore himself from her wanting mouth.

«Belle» he gasped in the small space between their bodies, trying to put a bit of space between them. She was not having it, as the deep frown that had settled between her eyebrows foretold. She looked at him briefly, eyes going from his flushed checks to his parted mouth, before capturing the young doctor's lower lip between hers again.

For a moment Jack forgot why he stopped in the first place and resumed kissing her with renewed vigour until his hand, which was moving as if it had a mind of its own, crept up her back and brushed hot and smooth skin. Suddenly he remembered why he was trying to halt this madness and abruptly moved away, putting Belle at arm's distance but still keeping her close.

«Belle, » he said breathlessly while his chest heaved. «Are you not wearing a corset? »

She looked at him as if he had gone completely mad, chest going up and down while she tried to regain her breath. «Of course, I'm not wearing a corset, » she told him as it was the most obvious thing in the world. «Why would I wear one if I am in my nightgown? »

«Your night-» Jack's eyes were the size of saucers. He closed them, breathed in deeply, and lowered his hands so that they rested properly on her hips. When he blinked, he found Belle looking at him with an amused expression, her eyebrows raised. «So, » he said slowly, looking at her intently to gauge her reaction. «You're telling me that you have gone out, in the middle of a Friday night, in your nightgown, and» he looked down for a moment «slippers? »

Finally, it seemed that the reality of the situation dawned upon Belle. «Well, » she gulped, looking away while the apple of her checks began to flush. «It seems like I didn't think that far when I decided to go out and look for you. »

She was so adorable that Jack couldn't help a soft grin from spreading on his face. «Well, » he mimicked her, raising a hand to brush away a soft curl that had escaped her hairdo and had fallen onto her face. «It seems like you didn't think at all, Milady. »

Belle huffed, clearly annoyed but at a loss of words. Jack barked a laugh, a feeling almost like pride running through his veins: she had been so eager to see him that she hadn't thought it wasn't proper for a lady to go out dressed - or more exactly, undressed - like that. It was intoxicating, he thought while he nudged her nose with the tip of his, to know that he had that effect on her, almost like the one she had on him.

Belle scowled, annoyed, and stepped sideways to move away from him. Jack strengthened the grip on her hips - the proper, chivalry reason for that was that he didn't want her to feel embarrassed and exposed in front of the drunkards going in and out of the tavern. The most selfish and true desire was to savour the sensation of her warm, velvety skin, even through the thin fabric of her gown.

«I jest» he said softly, swiping a thumb across her cheek. Normally, he wouldn't have dared to touch her like that. However, he thought he could blame his tenderness on the alcohol. Just this once. «But you have to admit that it was careless of you. It is dangerous for a lady to go out at night, even more so in this state of undress. » His voice had reached a more serious tone in the last sentence.

Belle smirked and, getting on the tip of her toes, invaded Jack's personal space, bringing her face at a breath's distance from his. Something akin to butterflies fluttered in the doctor's stomach, or perhaps the contents of his intestines were fighting a civil war with all the liquor he had put in his system.

«How chivalrous of you, » her voice had a teasing edge, hands resting on his chest under the pretence of adjusting his jacket. «I didn't deem you a gentleman. »

«Then you poorly underestimate me, Milady» Jack answered in tow, enjoying this playful banter fully. «Also, it is not safe for anyone to be strolling around at this time of the night near Cat and Bagpipes. Usually at this wee hour, the patrons go from blind weasels that dance to...» he caught a movement from the corner of his eye. He swirled himself and Belle away from the pillar they were resting on before a poorly dressed man puked on their feet. «...to pesky badgers » he continued, unphased.

Belle on the other hand was trying very hard not to flinch. «Oh» was all she said. Jack laughed at her rare lack of eloquence. «Right. I think it is time you return to your chambers, milady. May I escort you to your carriage? » he offered her his arm.

She gladly took it, and together they made their way between passed-out men and equally drunk but still on their feet women. «I think now it is a good time to say that there is no carriage» she stated matter of factly. Jack almost snapped his neck upon hearing these words. «Wha- what do you mean there is no carriage? Did you come here all the way from Government House on foot? » he asked, in equal parts horrified and worried.

Belle had the audacity to huff, «Of course not, don't be ridiculous. I dismissed the coachman a few blocks from here, so even if my parents suspected something, he wouldn't tell a thing. »

«That was... quite smart of you» Jack admitted, relishing in the satisfied smile that made its way up Belle's face. «But how did you plan on returning? »

For the first time since they met, Belle looked almost sheepish. «I was rather hoping that you'd walk me home» she muttered, not meeting his eyes.

All thoughts about teasing her vanished from the young surgeon's mind. She was looking at him with those big, brown eyes of hers and reflected in them he could see a vulnerability that Belle had never shown before. Jack flashed her a small smile. «Then what are we waiting for? »

It wasn't that long of a walk from the suburb of Port Victory to Government House - two miles or even less. Still, it took them almost one hour to reach the back of the garden where Jack usually sneaked in. If somebody were to ask him why, he would answer that the shoes Lady Belle was wearing weren't suited for walking - but deep down they both knew it wasn't the truth. They wanted to savour the unique, peaceful stroll holding hands, pretending to be a typical couple in the early stages of courtship.

When they reached the bottom of the spiral staircase outside Belle's bedroom, Jack let go of her hand to help her climb and open the window shutters.

«Do you go all these lengths every time you come here when there is a perfectly functioning door? » Belle asked, making her way into the bedroom to light a candle.

Jack turned and was about to reply when the sight before him left him breathless. Under the candlelight, Belle looked ethereal - her hair had escaped the braid she had put them in to go to bed and was now framing her face like a halo. Her skin was golden, her eyes as deep as the oceans he had navigated all these years. She was the most beautiful woman Jack had ever seen, he thought, and she wanted him. She had kissed him. This mere notion made him euphoric.

«Jack? » Belle called, confused. His eyes snapped to her face, and in two long strides, he was in front of her. The surgeon took her face between his hands and sealed their lips together, a rough desperation he had never felt before cursing through his veins. Belle had just enough time to put the candle down before fisting the material of his shirt between her fingers and kissing him back with the same amount of passion.

Jack felt delirious and he knew that the alcohol had nothing to do with it. He wanted Belle as near as possible, to touch every inch of her skin, memorize and explore every nook and cranny of her body with his hands, eyes and lips. His mouth seemed to have a mind of its own as he moved away from her lips, trailing kisses down her jaw and along the soft skin of her neck.

It was only when a soft moan erupted from Belle's parting lips that Jack regained control of his actions. He forced himself to part from her skin and took a step away, putting some distance between their bodies. He was panting, and so was Belle. It took them a few minutes to catch their breath, and when they did, they were too embarrassed to look each other in the eye.

Reluctantly, Jack withdrew his hands from where they rested on Belle's waist. «So» he stammered, an uncharacteristic awkwardness slurring his words «I bid you goodnight. »

Belle nodded vigorously as if he had just uttered the most brilliant thing in the world. «Goodnight, Jack. »

He nodded back and turned around, making his way to the window. He already had a foot on the first step of the stairs when he turned, and found Belle looking at him from the same spot where he had left her - in her eyes, the same longing that was squeezing his chest and made each step feel like he was walking into the sea with rocks in his shoes. Jack's determination faded away and in just two swift steps, he found himself standing in front of her. He cradled her face between his hands and molded their lips together, tenderly, as if too much pressure could break her.

When they parted, Belle was already smiling, as was he. «Goodnight, lady Fox, » he whispered, brushing his nose against hers, basking in the smile she gifted him.

«Goodnight, dr. Dawkins, » she said softly.

Jack Dawkins had been drunk before. He enjoyed the feeling of a warm stomach, a buzzing head, and tingling skin, the way the world seemed to lose all its blunt edges, and people were more inclined to unfiltered happiness or unending sorrow as if the fumes made their restrictions disappear.

However, he would have given up alcohol forever if that meant he could see Belle's smile this close one last time.

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...is anyone still here? hello fellow The Artful Dodger enthusiasts!! thank you for clicking on this story. this is my ode to the fantastic show and a gift to all of us who have loved it and are still waiting for a season 2. i can't believe my longest story is a brainrot about Jack Dawkins and Belle Fox but here we are, these two have all my heart and if we don't have a canon happy ending i will do something that will change the course of hulu's life forever. i hope you liked it and if you did i would love to hear your opinions and comments :") bye!!