#in absolutely horrid state

[aeclectick]

obviously the worst parts of the rise of legalized online sports gambling is targeting vulnerable people (especially young people) into addiction/financial trouble, increased violent threats made to athletes/their families, and the direct financial partnership with the leagues, but my least favorite part is that every expression of fan emotion is now captioned with “bet he lost his parlay” or “parlay just hit” or “you only get that feeling with gambling lol.” more conversations about sports are happening for/about gamblers who dgaf about sports and it’s pushing down the age-old seemingly unshakeable truth that people actually enjoy watching sports for the love of the fucking game

[nando161mando]

It's absolutely horrid that the GOP wants to condition aid to California. All Americans deserve aid when disaster strikes!

[sleepingdeath-light]

You're sick? Please don't overwork yourself 🥺

Aw thanks for the concern, anon! ^^

But I’m recovering now and have gotten back to work on my uni stuff so all is well (🤞 lol)

[soapcloth]

Fantasy au -> Warrior!Soap x Healer!Reader

CW: 18+ MDNI, light bloodplay, noncon undertones, dacryphilia if you squint

not edited - 800 words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

You’ve had just about enough of that axe-swinging asshole, built like an ox and thrice as stubborn.

You’re absolutely beside yourself asking why you’re sticking it out in his half-baked party. John, as he had practically breathed the name down your neck, couldn’t keep a decent healer and now you know all too well why. He was mean, smelly, loud, and worst of all- overly familiar despite your best efforts to stamp out any flame of acquaintanceship. You could write ballads dedicated to reasons you should leave this party, but truth be told? You were down on your luck. You wondered sometimes if you were cursed with misfortune, a hilariously horrid timeline of events leading you to this very position right now. So you’ve made a few mistakes, hasn’t everyone in the pursuit of dungeon crawling?

Even so, was the state of your freelance healing career really so bad that you had to saddle up with someone like John MacTavish? The man had been naught more than a trail thief brute-forcing his way into other parties’ treasure a few years ago, but because of a few lucky encounters in monster slaying, suddenly he was picking up jobs in adventurer hubs like it was something he was born to do. It pissed you off to no end and he knew it. Loved seeing your indignant scowl while you healed him up knowing better work was near impossible for you to come by.

“Och- that’s it, ‘m sore there.” He’d groaned, humid breath fanning your skin, god, why was he always so close? “Gonna show me that pretty glow, lamb?”

“No.” You bit, rubbing the salve a touch deeper than needed. Your lips twitched seeing his eyebrows draw tight. “It’s not so bad that you need healing, stop being a baby.”

The man snorted in response. “That’s why no other parties’ll take ye on, lamb.” His deep blue eyes searched your own, a wild smirk twisting across his mouth. “Terrible bedside manner.” You flushed slightly, shooting him a sharp glare that caused him to lean back on his makeshift fallen and rotted log seat with a pleased grin as he inspected his wound. Like the ever-expressive man he was, his face suddenly took on a shade of concern. “Ach-!”

“Huh?” Was all you could muster, confused as to what he could be so worried about.

“Think I got nicked by something venomous, lamb, need yer healing.” He seethed out. “Oh for- let me see.” You sighed, grabbing his uselessly huge hand. As expected, his palm was fine, albeit still a bit bloody as the salve worked to stop it.

Wrong move.

Upon inspecting his wound, the adventurer managed to shove his palm into your face with a vicious grin, huffing through his nose a bit as he smeared blood across your mouth. Sputtering only invited the acrid taste of bitter salve, sweat, and copper onto your tastebuds as he laughed and continued to wipe his hand across your face. “See?” He chuckled “M’still hurt.” His eyes seemed to glisten like the northern stormy coast seeing his own blood on your skin. “Suits you.”

You pushed his hand away, misinterpreting his words in a way that scratched at a sore spot of your own. “I didn’t kill them, John! Stop holding that over my head!” You snarled, causing his eyes to widen a fraction. You wiped his blood off your face with your arm, only to smear it around more and get it on the limb. Great. It was then you realized you had a runny nose as well, were you starting to cry? “I fucked up- but my god, they lived, okay?” And now you couldn’t get a gig better than this one because of that fact, a voice in the back of your head snarked. It’s true too, they made sure no party worth its salt would ever take you on. You still have no idea why John did either in all honesty, for all his faults and the high turnover rate, he had a seemingly bottomless fount of healers willing to take a shot at being the one to stick.

John cupped your cheeks. “None of tha’.” He spoke lowly. One of his calloused thumbs swiped at an emerging tear before it could fall and you had to watch, mouth slightly agape as he brought the pad of his thumb to his lips without much thought, tongue darting out to taste. You blinked as he clapped that hand down on your shoulder, leaning closer. “None of tha’…” he repeated, quieter this time. He looked so focused. “Dinnae give a shit about those no-names, lamb, neither should you.”

You swallowed audibly when met with his intensity, his voice a rolling growl. “Fuck- seeing ye all covered in my blood’s got me stiffer than a rock. Palm’s busted and you won’t heal me. Cannae do a thing about it, feel like ah’m gonna-“

“I can heal your hand.” You urged, the oppressive haze he left you with suddenly lifting.

He snorted in response. “Though so, lamb.” His palm connected with your hair, ruffling his blood into your locks before moving down to pat your cheek. “What a dutiful healer ye’ are… So good te’ me. Let me see tha’ gorgeous glow.”

[byhees]

thinking about boyfriend jake who absolutely loves it when you send him selfies; actually, he’d very inconspicuously, totally not suspiciously, ask you for one every day. it could be taken in the most horrid angle ever, or it could really just include a small portion of your face— though he’d much prefer seeing your features as a whole— and he’d still think that you’re the prettiest person in this entire planet.

he doesn’t even know how to accurately describe the feeling; you could be sending an image of you in your early morning state, disheveled bed hair, light under-eye circles, vice versa, and he’d still spam you with heaps of text messages, ones along the lines of ‘the prettiest angel ever’, or ‘what a lovely way to start my day’— he’s so in love with you.

‘that’s a horrible picture, please ignore it’, and he’d simply gawk at the phone screen in absolute disbelief— horrible picture?? are you accusing him of bad eyesight?? because he’s one-hundred percent sure that that’s the most gorgeous, beautiful, pretty, stunning, jaw-dropping photograph to have ever graced his eyes. in fact, he’d be more than happy to print it out and frame it like the masterpiece it is.

he’s so enamoured by you, it’s actually really endearing; ‘i miss your face’, he’d text in the break of dawn, attaching his own image— there’d be a small pout tugging on his lips, almost akin to a sulky frown. and how could you refuse, especially when he’s making that face?

[nanqmies]

Dainty | Boothill

cw: really bad southern slang, slight bondage, overstimulation, facial, he eats you out, praise, creampie, exhibition cause you’re outside, reader is kinda spoiled and annoying, consent isn’t verbally stated but it is consensual, hitting it raw, biting + marking, oral, brat taming, porn with plot and i think thats all?

wc: 2.5k

a/n: i finally have motivation again.. it took months but my brain is flowing with ideas!!!! please enjoy my work!~

nsfw under the cut~

God-fucking-dammit. One second you're relaxing in the comfort of your penthouse, gazing out the window as music lowly plays in the background. The next your mother is kicking you out the house for a "wake up call" throwing a bag of necessities out next to you on the street, calling you spoilt and ungrateful for not appreciating the things she and your father have done for you. Sending you out to this dirty old countryside with no buildings, no people, and no service for miles! Seriously? She must be crazy! What about college? Your friends?? Even your butler bids you goodbye when dropping you at some stupid rusted bench in the middle of nowhere. Powering your phone on and raising it high in the air, desperately trying to get some bars to call an uber, groaning in annoyance when your phone overheats and shuts down.

How long has it been since you got here? Sweat coats your forehead causing your hair to stick uncomfortably to your skin, begrudgingly dragging your luggage behind you. Your mouth is dry from dehydration, stomach rumbling for a crumb of food on your plate. It feels like you've been walking along this dirt path for a lifetime. Fortunately your efforts have paid off, finding a small inn, the first building in the miles of grassy fields and farmland. Maybe god truly was on your side! Moving your aching legs to the double doors of the inn, pushing it open and begging the owner for a room to stay. Digging through your wallet and slamming a few hundreds on the front desk, the man behind counts the crinkled bills and leads you to through the halls. Unlocking the last uninhabited room with the key to reveal the ratty and unkempt space, the dim lamp flickering on and off, unexplainable stains on the sheets of the bed with musty smell emitting from the room.

Your nose crinkles in disgust, there... there's no way this room is $200 a night... Glancing over at the owner, you notice the gold tooth in his mouth shimmering while he grins,, as if he expects you to sleep in some dingy place like this?? You turn around and rush out the doors as quickly as possible, there's absolutely no way in hell you're sleeping in that room... Speeding out on the dirt road and falling to your knees, stress, exhaustion and hunger overwhelms your body. How could you possibly survive in a horrid place like this? No butlers, no phone, no air conditioning, this has to be abuse right?! Laughing hysterically at the absurdity of your situation.

You don't know how long you’re sat there until the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts, looking up you see him. A tall man with slightly tanned skin, long white hair adorned with black accents, covered by a dark gray cowboy hat. He wore a cropped jacket with a scarf hanging down the back with tight black slacks that flared out at the ends. A belt around his waist with a holster and a stack of bullets on the hips

"Ain't yer ma' tell you it's rude to ignore someone when they're talkin' to ya?" the strong southern accent snaps you back to reality, brows furrowing at the man when you shakily stand on your sore.. sore feet.

"What's some city boy doing round ere' this time of day.?" The man persists in his questioning, an annoyed look plays on your face. "I was kicked out, sent away, whatever you'd prefer to call it. For some stupid wake up call." -"| see.. kicked out by yer folks? Nowhere to stay?" His brow rises in curiosity, how amusing.. Some spoilt city boy hauling his luggage around like some sort of idiot, it was painfully obvious to him that you weren't from these parts.. You stomp your foot in annoyance trying to power your phone on but alas it stays black, the screen hot to the touch.

"Ugh! Can my butler just pick me up! The only place to stay is that damned inn." Before you're able to complain you're interrupted by a loud laugh, the cowboy wiping his eye with a chuckle, revealing his sharp toothed smile.

"Aren't you cute.. Ain't no butlers round ere' to save you dainty boy." His words immediately ticked you off, crossing your arms over your chest with a glare. Is he really laughing at your expense? "Dainty boy? Is that supposed to be a joke?" You were now clearly irritated, raising a brow at his laughter, he smiles and tilts his hat down. "Just an observation sweetheart." clearing his throat to try and calm his chuckles. "Tch.. You think you're better than me cause you're from the countryside?" You lean on your luggage for support, you were already exhausted from the scorching heat and long journey his annoying attitude wasn't making it any better. Snickering a bit he decides to indulge in your bad mood a bit more..

"Better than you? Course not.." he takes a step towards you.

"Fancy little electronics and butlers.. so fudging clean and proper.. Ain't never gotten dirty in yer life.." he takes his last step directly in front of you. Leaned over to your shorter height, casting a shadow over you. You swallow thickly, sensing danger in those dark eyes of his. Biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself composed, the close proximity making it difficult.

"And what's wrong with being clean and proper huh?" You ask, trying to keep your voice steady, "Who wants to be sweaty and dirty like you?" challenging his tone. You expect him to back off but he does the opposite, laughing lowly at you. A raspy one at that. Tilting his hat down and running his tongue over his cracked lips..

"Ain't that right.. Boys like you are my favorite."

You can't even question what he meant by that statement because he stands to his full height and glances over at you, immediately asking another question.

"Anywho.. You got nowhere to stay right?" You're caught off guard but nod reluctantly, "I don't.. but I'm sure your place isn't any better than that dirty old inn." Responding with a scoff, his eyes narrow slightly, a twitch in his smile that's barely noticeable. Scoffing, he drags you along to his horse, helping you get on as it rides through the fields with long gallops. You hold onto his waist, terrified to fall off the moving creature. On the way to his farm he shares his name.. Boothill.. he tells you, giving him your own in return. Conversation flies by easy with Boothill, listening to you complain about your parents and the boring countryside they left you in. Only answering with a nod or a hum, as easy as the conversation flows by you can't help but feel a bit uneasy around him. Not mentioning family or friends or anything about his personal life, barely knowing a lick about him while he knows your life story.

After about an hour the horse stops at the large farm buildings, a stable for horses and a small batch of chickens and a few cows grazing in the fields. It's oddly.. nice? You trip slightly off the horse, looking at the perimeter of the place. Boothill leads you into his farmhouse, a comforting look you didn't expect. Warm and nicely decorated, cinnamon candles burning a pleasant scent around the house. Grinning at your awed expression, "Is it old and dirty like that inn?" He taunts you, a cocky tone in his words. Sighing in defeat you shake your head no and roll your eyes. Like the gentleman he is he brings your luggage upstairs, touring the house. Boothill nudges the door of the guest bedroom open, dropping your belongings on the bed. And lord he was right,, it was so much better than that stupid inn! Relishing in the feeling of soft sheets under you, Boothill grins once more at the sight.

"Well now.. better rest yer aching bones.. cause tomorrow.. yer working for me." Immediately you shoot up from bed, confusion clear on your face.. WORK? What does he mean work?? He can tell by your expression that you're awfully surprised. "Hm? You didn't think i'd let you stay for free didya?" He wishes you goodnight but not before mentioning you'll "need it' for tomorrow.. Whatever that means..

Waking up with breakfast isn't what you expected, wearing a pair of thin jean shorts and a tank top. Boothill looks over his shoulder when you finally awaken, "Ah.. Rise n shine sleepin' beauty.." he hums cooking, flipping the pancake in the pan. You sit at the table and wait for him to finish breakfast, looking around for a while. He ends up breaking the silence with an odd ask, "Do you like rope city boy?" You were rather confused by this, eyebrows furrowed. "Rope..? Why do you ask?" The kitchen falls quiet for a few long seconds, "Just askin’.."

After breakfast you're led outside, he tells you the tasks you're assigned with:

Feed the animals

Plant and water the crops

Time passes with the tasks you're forced to complete, he's sick of moans and complaints about the hot weather, the sun being too bright and the work being too hard. Boothill feels throbbing in his temple, jesus you're annoying. Bratty, loud and ungrateful. Has nobody shown you anything about respect? Clearly he'd have to be the one to smack some manners into you..

.

.

.

"God.. always complaining about something huh." Boothill mumbles as he ties the coarse rope over your thighs, keeping them tightly together. Moving up to do the same with your wrists. He watches with a sharp eye, you're sprawled out underneath him in the grass unable to squirm away from his grasp. "I 'ought to force the brat outta'ya myself." Boothill bends you over and forces your head into the grass, yanking down the flimsy fabric of those shorts of yours down to your thighs. Catching his bottom lip between his teeth at the sight, completely bare underneath such thin shorts.

Easy Access..

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes darlin." gripping your hips tightly and spreading you open, impatiently kissing over your thighs..

Carnal desire burning inside his chest as his lips part eagerly to run his tongue over your tight rim, plunging his tongue in with such intensity it sent shivers down your spine. Tongue lapping down to your cock then back up, hand tightening around your throbbing shaft as he pulls the skin back to start stroking you. The euphoric sensation becoming overwhelming as he continues, it's so difficult to ignore the hot feeling of him prodding inside, spreading you open like never before. Hands clenching and writhing against the rope tightened over your delicate skin, pitiful mewls slipping through your lips.

"A-Ahn..! hmn~ don't! not there..-" A boyish yelp coming out when Boothill's hand struck down on the flesh of your ass. "Yer so goshdarn prissy.." he mumbles against your skin, fastening the pace of his hand on your dick. Unable to stop the way his tongue goes from running along the outside to fully thrusting his tongue inside. "Not letting a man finish his work.." he hums while you shake underneath him eyes rolling back when you finish, coating his hand in white. Murmuring in amusement not bothering to cover his laugh.

"Well color me surprised. ain't ever seen such an eager thing.." kissing up your back whilst he pulls your shirt off, forcing you down further into the grass. He unzips his slacks to free his hardened cock, spitting on his hand to lubricate his shaft. Lining himself up with your sex and slowly pushing in, teeth clenching when his cock stretches you open with a mix of pain and pleasure. "H-Hahh…. i-it won't-fuck.. fit..!"

Tears streaming down the apples of your cheeks, Boothill knits his fingers into your hair. Rocking his hips back and forth with a slow pace, getting you used to his large size. "Look at you.. whining all over me..ain't that sweet darlin!." he drawls into your ear, body on top of yours fucking into you. His pace quickening with his intense assault on your body, sharp teeth biting into his lips. Groaning loudly at the feeling of you squeezing him tightly, the sounds of your angelic cries of pleasure echoing in his ears. "Hnng..! I-Its ah.. s-so good.. jesus.." mumbling incoherently when your hips move against him for more, a creamy ring of white circling the base of his cock. "Ah.. hmn.. god..! Yer squeezin' me like a virgin." he sinks his sharp teeth into your shoulder blade, causing the skin to break and bleed.

Trying to hold on to anything but to no prevail, arms tied behind your back. "Cause. am a virgin~!" Slurred words constantly fall from your mouth, Boothill only put haste in his thrust, desperate to fuck the attitude outta you and make you his. "Hm..? Must be why yer so gosh darn sensitive... haven't even started yet." Suddenly you're pulled up, back against his chest. The warmth, the closeness overwhelming your senses.. The full feeling of his girth tearing you open to places your measly fingers could only imagine reaching. Maybe he should be more gentle with a dainty thing like you, roughing you up burns an insatiable fire inside him. Once perfectly smooth skin now bruised, bitten, marked and covered in rope burns. But who would he be not to test your limits? Folding you in half to rut his fat tip against your sweet spot, eyes rolling back to see the stars above.. How you beg him to slow down, be more gentle but your body saying the complete opposite, cumming time and time again, thin fluid splattered over your abdomen and chest..

"Absolutely ravishin'..." Boothill groaned into your ear. Pumping his next load inside, the excess of the last trickling down the base of his cock. You can take another can't you? Don't disappoint him, with all that snark and backtalk you must be able to back it up.. Boothill pulls out your warmth, watching his seed overflow and drip down your thighs. You groan and move your head up to look at him as he unties you, exhausted by the intense session. Sweat coating your skin and marks over your shoulders. "Now.. isn't it rude not to clean up the mess you made?" Leaning down and whispering into your ear, taking his hat off and placing it on you instead. You swallow thickly and shakily sit on your knees, enamored at the size of it compared to your hand. Just like he asked, you kindly clean off the excess.. using your hands for the parts your mouth cannot reach. As he grows close he pulls you off and strokes himself quickly, panting and groaning under his breath. "Yea.. look up at me.. just like that sweetheart." cooing at you, with a grunt he finishes over your face. A soft smile playing on his lips.

"Ain't that a sight for sore eyes.."

Boothill picks you up in his arms, holding you close to his chest, entering back into the farmhouse and kicking the door shut. You'll love your time here at his farm, he's sure you'll be back.

@nanqmies © 2024

please do not translate, steal or repost my work.

reblogs and feedback appreciated!

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 7

AN: The long awaited part 7. Before anyone fears, no this isn't the end of the series don't you worry. I don't have many ideas for the next few parts, but I'm sure I'll think of something or one of you can help!

Also how do we feel about giving Reader a tail? /gen I have a few ideas I've been toying with with reader having a tail, but I don't want to cross the line between too self indulgent and reflecting of my character, rather than trying to be as inclusive as possible.

-> Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five -> Part Six -> Part Six 1/2

Warnings: Depictions of past trauma/ injury, past depictions of being turned into a Twisted/ seeing a loved one as a twisted/ recovering from being a Twisted, mentions of vomit, past depictions of losing a lost one, talk of scars (In a positive light, but just in case!)

☁ The first few nights were hard. So, so incredibly hard. Not by any fault of your own, oh absolutely not, but that didn't make the nights any less taxing or offer them anymore rest.

☁ There were a few times you offered tearfully to sleep in your old room so they could hopefully get some rest, each one shot down with a stern No'. The mere thought of having you out of their line of sight was more than their nerves could take, especially somewhere where they couldn't reach immediately? Hard Pass.

☁ The first night was by far the worst. Cosmo can't say he really remembers recovering from being a twisted, but there was one thing that stuck out for him during the entire process. And that was you. You were there the entire time, gently pressing cool cloths to his forehead, helping him sip water, even keeping saltine crackers on hand in case his temporarily fickle stomach decided that food was somewhat acceptable.

☁ You were the same with Astro and Sprout as well, ensuring the recovery, as awful as it was, was still as seamless as you could make it. If there was one thing he did remember about healing from being a twisted, is that he would never wish it upon another being. Much less you.

☁ The first night you're returned, you're rushed to med-bay as a flurry of commotion happens. Those left behind are eager to see if you've been returned, especially poor Toodles who took your turning hard. She's holding Blu when they rush past, tears in her large eyes, but Rodger is quick to turn her away.

☁ Sprout is already barking orders with Ginger meeting them halfway, first aid kit in hand. They had given you minimal attention in the ride up, but they didn't have the time, space or resources necessary to give you proper medical attention.

☁ It's a flurry of action that follows right after. Astro stays up by your head, wiping the ichor that stained your mouth and clumped your fur. His cheeks are shiny as he does it, shaking his head every now and then before continuing his actions.

☁ Cosmo barely remembers all he did that night, there was so much that needed done. That wound you had received from-...From when you turned into a twisted had never closed, the excess ichor from being a twisted keeping you alive. It was an awful, horrid thought, but not one they could ignore as Cosmo hurriedly worked alongside his cousin to close it. Sprout busied himself with working on the claw marks across your face you had made in your confused state. Every bit he seemed to do made his grimace deepen. He wasn't sure what the other was seeing, but currently wasn't certain he wanted to know during this moment.

☁ Your teeth still remained sharp as you groaned in pain throughout the process, hands reaching back up to swat at the insistent burden yanking on your wounds, only for them to be caught by Shelly, who had followed to offer her help.

☁ She had felt awful about the entire situation, regardless if you would've done it either way. Vee as well, though she stayed further back to avoid getting in the way. Shelly's tougher skin made her more resistant to your claws and slashes, so she was a welcome helper, even if it made the working space a bit more cramped.

☁ Seeing you hurt like that was an awful feeling. Cosmo remembers feeling the bile burn at the back of his throat that night, increasing in every little noise or whimper of pain you made. Even when the worst was handled, he had to step back for a moment, hiding in Astro's chest as Sprout continued wiping away what was left. The same grimace was on his features, one much more intense than what was usually there when he was in doctor mode.

☁ He didn't speak more on it until far after Shelly had taken her leave with a tearful well wishes. Even then, the berry had only dragged a chair closer, hiding his face in his hands. Neither Astro nor himself knew where to go from there, and that just made them feel all the more worse as you seemed to fall into a fitful unconsciousness.

☁ Cosmo wasn't sure if it counted as sleep, honestly, not with how you still shook.

☁ "They have so many scars." Sprout finally spoke up, voice wavering before it cracked as he smoothed back his leaves, letting them fall back into place. "They hide them under their fur. How did-..." Sprout swallowed tightly at this before looking up at them with teary eyes. "How did we miss that?"

☁ Neither waited for a moment further before rounding around the medical bed to wrap their arms around the berry. He was tricky when it came to emotions, especially since this entire thing began, flickering between anger and denial like a coin, to see him break down like that was rare.

☁ "It's easy to miss." Cosmo nearly choked on the words, tears welling in his eyes as he flickered between watching your chest rise and fall to the floor. There was a crack in one of the tiles. You'd want that fixed, so no one tripped. He'd make not of it later. "Their fur covers it-"

☁ "Is that really an excuse?" Sprout cuts back in, his own eyes watching you in the same clinical way Cosmo found himself doing it. "For the others maybe. But us?"

☁ Cosmo couldn't find any rebuttal, swallowing tightly. He knows he himself has spent countless hours with his fingers running along your fur, playing with the stands and drawing shapes against the grain of it. He just never really focused on the skin beneath because he truthfully didn't think too. Looking back, maybe that was on him. He should've done better, done something more-

☁ "I don't think anyone's at fault." Astro's comment cut through the sudden silence. He had been dreadfully silent since getting back from the run so to hear him sound so exhausted was...jarring. He always had a sleepy, tired lilt to his voice, but to hear it like that made Cosmo's tail curl tighter against his back.

☁ Silence fell again before Astro was continuing. "I think, to a degree, it would be...more questionable if they didn't have any. They've been doing this far longer than you, me or even Cosmo's been in the picture. We can't stop them, but we can support them however possible as we have been." Astro swallows for a moment, using a star shard to bring a box of tissues closer. He takes one, wiping under his eye before setting it to the side. "They will always be like this. They'll be our self-sacrificing idiot who doesn't know when to stop, but that's why we fell in love with them. We can't change them and I hope none of us would try. Their scars are part of who they are. We-...I love every part of them, even the parts they may not love as much. Those parts we just have to love a little extra."

☁ The words stand, nearly tangible in the air for a long while. He's right. There are very few times when Astro isn't, but it's a jarring notion to understand what you truly went through. Even Cosmo himself hadn't known how long you and Poppy and Boxten had been doing it since he wasn't even the first returned. No, by the time he had been recovered, Finn, Shrimpo and Rodger had been well acquainted parts of the group and you had become comfortable in your role as a distractor.

☁ He wonders just how much of the burden you've carried silently with you. He's terrified of the answer you'd give if he asked.

☁ "I do...I do love them." Sprout choked, as if that was ever being brought into question. "I just- What if they hurt? What if every time we ask them to distract they're just a constant reminder of every past failure to them? They've done so much for all of us. Who are we to ask anything more?"

☁ "Like Astro said, it's who they are. I think if they truly didn't want to distract, they wouldn't. And I hope they would feel safe enough to come to us if the scars were causing them pain." The first tear falls down Cosmo's cheek, which is quickly wiped with a star shard covered in a tissue. "I mean, for heaven's sake, they turned into a twisted to save Vee on a run to save Shelly. If that's not the most selfless thing I've seen, I don't know what is."

☁ "Truthfully, I think I rather would've dealt with Vee's Twisted then theirs." Astro deadpans only to immediately flush a navy blue as Sprout cackles, Cosmo hiding his own laughs behind a hand. Astro practically swallows his tongue as he's quick to try and amend it with, "Not that I would wish that on any of us!"

☁ Sprout shakes his head as he finally leans back, his own cheeks shiny- which the star shard tries to wipe at only to get swatted at, making Astro pout. Both of Sprout's arms reach around to hook around both Cosmo and Astro as he takes a final deep breath. "We'll talk with them. Maybe now they'll see reason. Because yeah. I'm not dealing with that again."

☁ "They were so scary!" Cosmo whines, leaning on Sprout's shoulder. "But also-...Hear me out-"

☁ "Stoooop." Sprout groans, tipping his head back as Astro nods solemnly. "I'm hearing."

☁ Cosmo laughs at this before you're suddenly jumping up, cheeks puffed and they already know what that entails. Cosmo grabs the nearest trash can while Astro gently pulls back anything that could get in the way while Sprout makes for the nearest medication cabinet.

☁ Cosmo holds the trash can for you as you purge the excess ichor in your body, watching your heaves with a heartbroken glance while Astro rubs your back, even if he himself looks nauseous at the sight and sounds. He's quick to switch with Sprout when he returns, measuring out the stomach medication the berry had grabbed. It had aided the rest of them when it came to rejecting the ichor and they hoped it would with you too.

☁ In the very least, as awful as it was, it was a good sight to see as it meant you were recovering in the very least. Even if your heaves sounded painful and tears tracked down your cheeks. It would a pattern that would continue throughout the night unfortunately, which they would need to stay up to assist you with, but it was a chore they were more than happy to do. You had been the one to sit with each of them throughout the night, making sure they had all the comfort you could offer at the time.

☁ So even as the minutes ticked like hours, they knew it was all worth it. Every trip to empty the trash cash, every startled awakening at the sound of your gags, every wince as you pleaded for mercy. Anything to get you back.

☁ The following days are better. The next morning, right before it could be qualified as noon, you were cognizant enough to recognize where you were, eyes unfocused as you swayed, trying to sit up only for that to be one of the worst ideas you've ever had.

☁ The boyfriend on duty is quick to come to your side, with a hand on your back as soft whispers buzzed in your ear. You curled in on yourself, eyes scrunching shut before a deep breath had you finally stabilizing enough you could blink your eyes. Sprout was right there, offering you a gentle smile as he tried to figure out what exactly you were seeing.

☁ You practically threw yourself at him, pulling him close as tears burned your eyes. You cried into his scarf as his hands slowly curled back around you, squeezing you tightly to his chest as his own shoulders shook. "Oh. bud, I've missed you."

☁ "I'm sorry." You blab. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You cry, squeezing him tighter when it almost seems like he's going to pull away. You don't remember much about your time as a twisted except for spotting Sprout and smelling the ichor of a non-twisted toon being spilt. You prayed it wasn't you to cause that wound, that there was no wound at all, but subtly looking at his arm quickly dashes that hope.

☁ "No, no, bud you did nothing wrong." This time you allow him to pull away, only for his hands to cup your cheeks. "You're just as perfect as you always are." His green eyes shine with unshed tears, which quickly rectify that by trailing down his freckled cheeks. You sob at the sight, your own hands- with nails longer than you normally keep them- cupping his cheeks.

☁ Sprout crashed his lips against yours in a show of desperation, tears making the kiss taste salty as your shoulders fall in relief. IF he was okay, the others had to be okay, right? They had to be? You didn't hurt them too, did you? You prayed not.

☁ Pulling away, you angled his chin every which way, scanning his face as he gave you a few watery chuckles. "You're okay? All leaves, limbs and seeds?"

☁ Sprout caught your hands, pulling them down so he could look at you, nothing but sweet, adoring love in his eyes. "Leaves, limbs and seeds all attached." He coos, laying his forehead on yours as his shoulders heave with a long heavy sigh. "Oh, bud. You're okay."

☁ "You're not." You frown, feeling the tears threaten to burst out all over again. "I'm-"

☁ "It wasn't you." Sprout interrupts, making you blink. "No, a twisted flutter got me, but you? Even a twisted, you've proven you'll still protect us." His smile is sad, but relieved as you feel your stomach finally settle.

☁ You get a few moments more before the door is being slammed open, but not by another toon. No, it must've been ajar, because who else is waiting there but Blu herself, looking as grumpy as the day she accidentally fell into the snow in Bobette's shop, mewing in long, interrupted yowls as she trotted to the medical bed, jumping up and immediately crawling all over you.

☁ Sprout tried to grab her, but you waved him off, scooping up the baby and letting her place her paw on your cheek. You cooed at her, nuzzling your nose against her cold, wet one. She mewled once more before it delved into a purr, making you snicker. "I know, tell me all about how unfair your dads are."

☁ "Oi!" Sprout immediately called, looking only mildly offended before footsteps had you both looking over at the doorway once more. Cosmo was there, already panting as he leaned his head against the doorway. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, she was sleeping and then suddenly just took off and-" He looked up at that point, only for his mouth to gape open. He stilled for a second as Astro popped his head in, looking at the pastry. "Did you find-"

☁ He too was left slack-jawed before Cosmo was moving and he was following, both wrapping you in tight hugs and a flurry of kisses. It was comforting and perfect, and enough to make you forget about how awful your stomach felt.

☁ They were quick to fill you in on everything that had happened in your absence and, honestly? Hearing Astro talk about having his best friend back made your heart thrum and how happy he seemed, moreso now that he had everyone in his little family back at long last.

☁ While your side still hurt and your muscles still sung from the strain put on them. being wrapped between them felt safe. Safer than you've felt since the moment of pure terror that wracked your entire nervous system the second you knew only one of you would make it to the elevator.

☁ Still, you knew there was something on the horizon. A discussion that needed to be had and it made whatever was left in your gut churn and rot further than it already had.

☁ It didn't come until later that night when you were finally back in your room, eating something soft and easy to digest (My personal fav is oatmeal but I know now everyone can eat that so y'all get to choose <3), chatting with Cosmo when a knock at the door made you look up.

☁ Astro had popped his head in, scanning for your form before immediately relaxing when he spotted you. "Are you okay with a few visitors? Absolutely feel free to say no."

☁ You honestly hadn't expected anyone to visit you, really. Goob and Scraps had both had their own tearful reunions with you, Goob especially, and Poppy and Boxten had visited as well. You weren't overly close with anyone else, but while confused, you nodded.

☁ Astro scanned you for a second, as if to see if you were lying, but when he found nothing he stepped more fully inside. Sprout followed, immediately wounding to your side and pressing a peck to your lips. You smiled at him before looking back over, eyes widening at the two toons standing there.

☁ Shelly looked nervous, but waved even as her smile wavered, her tail giving a small, short little wag. Vee looked miserable if you were honest. You had never seen the main so...upset, making you frown. Was she upset with you? You know you probably shouldn't have pushed her, but you had no other option at the time!

☁ Astro took his own spot beside, across from where Sprout had moved to sit beside Cosmo.

☁ "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Shelly begins, tapping her fingers together before meeting your eye. "I wanted to thank you personally. And apologize. It was me you were retrieving and-"

☁ "And it wouldn't have happened if I had just picked up the pace." Vee cuts in. She makes it a point not to look at you, making you frown, fingers curling around your blanket. Vee let out a sigh, antennae giving a little spark as she wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm...So, so so-"

☁ "You have nothing to apologize for." You hold up a hand, scrunching your features. "I made my choice. You had nothing to do with what i decided. I promise. i never would've done something if it wasn't something I was sure about doing. There was never a moment I was upset with you, either of you." You're quick to reassure, sending them both a smile. Shelly returns it quickly, but Vee only gives you a glance and you frown.

☁ That was Sprout's best friend. You knew you didn't have to get along with everyone, but you wanted to get along with these two especially.

☁ Shelly seemed relieved at least, which made Astro relax at least a bit, but that wasn't enough for you. "I promise, Vee. If anything I owe you all an apology." You wilted a bit, even if Vee finally looked at you. "My twisted is...not the best, even I could admit that and I should've planned with the twisteds better rather than risk putting you guys in that situation. So for that, I apologize." You continue, continuing even if Vee looks like she's going to cut in. "It's happened, and it's fixed already. We can just blame whoever started the Ichor operation rather than try to keep playing this 'who can blame themself the most' game."

☁ Vee gapes and you smile at her softly, opening your arms. "Hug it out with me? Therefore all is forgiven and we can't blame ourselves anymore." The television looks at you, then at Shelly, then Sprout before her shoulders fall and she's slumping forward. You wrap your arms around her, feeling the chill of her metal plates. Looking over, you make eye contact with Shelly, who smiles sadly at the action. You open one of your arms and the fossil is immediately burrowing into the hug as well with her tail whapping about.

☁ When you separate, they take their leave not soon after, seemingly much lighter than when they came in. But then you're left with the other three. Astro's who's already sitting beside you, but the other two crawl onto the bed so you're all sitting in a circle of types.

☁ Your eyes dart from one to the next to the next before falling to where your knuckles are white around the blanket, having returned to clutching the fabric. You have to actively uncurl your fingers.

☁ You know there's probably tons to discuss, but you don't even know where to start.

☁ So Sprout does. He's never one to beat around the bush, especially looking back to before you all were together, and it's something you greatly admire about the berry.

☁ "We saw the scars." Is all he says, his own eyes remaining downcast as he plays with his scarf. You swallow, debating your options before breathing out, letting down the walls you normally kept up around everyone else.

☁ "Most of them are front the beginning." You admit. "I wasn't a good distractor then. I wasn't even really okay. I did it when we absolutely needed one. We had none of the trinkets we do now and didn't even think about them at the time. So I was an extractor and Cosmo knows that me extracting is like teaching a fish to fly." You spill immediately, thinking back to the lacerations that once marred your skin. "I'm sorry if they bothered you. I tried to keep them as covered up as possible. in case they...upset you all"

☁ "It's not the fact that their there, starlight. Well, I mean, that's kind of part of it, but...Why didn't you tell us?" Astro prods, laying a hand on you knee as another gentle rubs your shoulder. You bristle at the question, rolling your shoulders for a second before responding.

☁ "They aren't number one on my list of discussion topics. I'd rather forget about them personally." Simple as that.

☁ There's silence for a second before Cosmo is raising his hand, pointing to a white line that circles around his forearm. "This is from my time as a twisted. You'd remember best, but my hand was all sorts of messed up, right?"

☁ You nod at this and he points to his eye, with a matching line circling around it, so faint if he wasn't pulling attention to it, most wouldn't notice. "Half my face too, right?"

☁ You nod once more and he mimics the action. "Are you ashamed of my scars?"

☁ "No!" You're quick to bark, immediately ready to quell any worries he has, but Cosmo isn't done, pointing to Sprout- who blinks at the finger like it personally offended him. "What about Sprout? He has his own scars. You ashamed of those?"

☁ "No, Cosmo that's not-"

☁ "Then what about Astro? He's got his fair share too." The pastry points to one of the hands on your knees, which indeed had it's own smattering of scars from his time as a twisted.

☁ "No." You stare him down, gaze hard as he meets your own just as challenging. "Then why does that change for you?" You don't have an immediate answer, and Cosmo pounces on that. "What makes your scars different from ours? Why would we ever be ashamed of your scars, of your journey, when you would never dream of even thinking about that of ours?"

☁ You gape at him, trying to find some sort of defense, but you can't. He seems satisfied at that, but it's not for long as you're speaking once more.

☁ "Mine were self-inflicted." You avoid looking at them, even as your heart practically chokes you. "You never signed up to be a twisted. I willingly trained and worked to become a distractor. These come with the territory."

☁ There's silence for a second before Sprout is speaking once more. "Do they hurt?"

☁ You frown at the question, but shake your head. "No. They don't."

☁ Sprout exhales in relief at this before leaning back on his palms. "This isn't meant to make you feel any type of way about them, bud. They're yours and we understand better than most that scars can bring...complicated feelings. There's just...so many. We just want you to care a little more about yourself."

☁ "Seeing you in danger all the time is hard on his heart." Astro gently jokes, even if he gets a light kick in return for the jab. The celestial takes a breath before leaning on your shoulder, one of his hands reaching to hold your own. "We just want you safe, starlight, above all else. The bed's too big for three of us."

☁ You take a breath that quivered in your lungs before nodding slowly. You had expressed to Astro before how terrified you were of your own twisted and never wished to expose it to them, but did so anyway.

☁ You could only imagine the fear they were feeling the entire time, especially on the retrieval.

☁ "I'm sorry. Not for doing what I did, I don't regret and never will." You began, finally looking back up at them. "But I agree. I've been a bit careless. It's a distractor's job to keep the twisteds occupied, but not by being a dumbass. I don't want to give up distracting though." By the end you're practically pleading.

☁ "And we would never ask you too." Sprout gives you a soft smile. "Even if you stress me the fuck out, you enjoy it. Just...maybe keep the distance between you and the twisteds a bit bigger. And keep an escape route open whenever possible. And a bandage on hand. And a can of pop. And-"

☁ You laugh, wiping your tears as you shake your head. "I get it. I'm sorry I scared you all."

☁ "Just remind us to never piss you off." Cosmo shakes his head. "You're scary when angry. Although, watching you protect Sprout like that-"

☁ "We are not having this conversation again!" Sprout immediately shuts down, hitting the pastry in the face with a pillow, quickly getting a swift hit in retaliation. The two tussle for a second, making you give a wet laugh as Astro nuzzles into you. Your finger taps on the back of his hand, silently asking for an explanation.

☁ He hums in acknowledgement at the unasked question, moving to kiss your shoulder. "You're hot in all forms. Cosmo especially likes your protective side."

☁ This makes you bark out a laugh, calling the attention of the other two back to you.

☁ "What are you laughing at?" Sprout grinned, straddling Cosmo who was squirming under the hand on his forehead keeping him pinned down.

☁ "You're all such dorks." You snicker, grinning before holding your hands out to them. "Hugs?"

☁ You're only able to let out a yelp at Sprout turns instead pull you into his chest, the other two also wrapped in the absolute bear hug. It makes your heart thrum happily, especially when Blu manages to pop her head up in a crevice and mew her greetings happily.

☁ So even while the first few nights were hard, as you lay there, wrapped in the embrace of your boys and feeling their laughter once more, you know that tonight won't be nearly as so.

☁ And if absolutely nothing else, that was what made it all worth it.

AN: Guys, remember how I made that joke (It wasn't a joke) about hating that Rodger and taking it out on their Bobette? GUESS WHO'S NOW A MARKETABLE PLUSH >:) Huge huge huge shoutout to @belifbel

RAHH LOOK AT THEM

[cherrieshalo]

Silken Robes

prince!scaramouche x princess!reader | fluff, comfort | arranged marriage, royal au | 1.3k words

Being the princess of Fontaine, you were engaged to be married to the prince of Inazuma, Scaramouche. It was a binding agreement made many years ago, finally being set into action as the two of you become of-age to fulfill the agreement. It was something you were aware of from a young age, your hand in marriage being promised to a foreign man long before either of you had even been born. 

It wasn’t strange when the two nations met to discuss the prospects of the marriage, the head of each royal family coming together to refine the agreement. The shiny polished ring placed upon on your finger served as a reminder of your betrothed, the one who would play with you in the gardens and help steal pastries from the kitchen upon his occasional visits 

During the premarital trip to Inazuma, you were pushed into the suspected wedding planning you were far too exhausted to participate in. Tea ceremony rehearsals, cake testings, vow scripting, and nearly everything else that seemed to run your already low want to be married even farther into the ground. 

You stood on a pedestal in the Prince's palace as preparations for your wedding gown were rushed about. You were adorned in the finest of silk robes, body being posed in various ways as you were measured, draped and who knows what else as you were being fitted for your wedding garb. You knew it would be intricate, but you didn't know you'd be modeling into the late evening with only the patterns being made. Your hair was pinned up by your head to avoid any distraction, slowly beginning to itch.

You were growing sleepy, but tried to focus your attention out the big window and over the setting sun on the horizon.. Your new home...it wasn't awful, you really enjoyed your time in Inazuma, but it was quite the distance away from Fontaine. Your vision became slightly fuzzy as you zoned out, your arm being lifted for additional measurements. 

The young prince entered the room to assure the progress of the garments, the tailors and designers all bowing as he approached you with a smile. Scaramouche gazed up at you from your spot on the pedestal, a fond look on his face.

“There's my beautiful bride..." Scaramouche spoke softly, reaching his hand out to help you step down to ground level. "I think I'm going to have to see you in Inazuman garb more often. You do look quite exquisite..."

“Thank you…although, I am not quite sure they have been finished,” you sniffed softly, turning to look at him. 

“Perhaps not. But, that does mean that you’ll look absolutely enchanting when all the designs have been finished,” he gently kissed your forehead, gloved fingers swiping in a back-and-forth motion over your knuckles. 

Scaramouche examined your face, eyes scanning your pale features. Pale- no, sickly pale. The rouge on your lips stood out far too much.  He knew you haven’t been doing all too well recently; horribly nauseous ever since you stepped foot off the ship and onto the island. Barely eating, barely drinking, barely sleeping…he couldn’t bear to see you in such a horrid state. 

“Alright, I do think it is time to end today’s session. My poor bride has been tortured enough,” he spoke with slight hilarity as to not offend any of those working so diligently to make sure you looked your best on the day of the wedding. There were very few protests, many of the designers and tailors knowing better than to argue with the prince. As they began to pack up for the evening, Scaramouche turned back to you. “Come, we shall take a walk in the gardens to help clear your mind as we discuss an important matter.” 

Scaramouche led you through the palace and into the garden, the gravel and sand softly pittering under your slippers. The quiet hum of the pond and the croaking of the frogs calmed your mind as the two of you walked across the bridge, hand wrapped around his arm, and found a place to rest on a bench under an old maple wood tree. The sunlight casted a faint glow over the pond as the rays leaked through the red leaves, the atmosphere soft but clearly not dull. 

“My dear, would you be so kind as to tell me what has been troubling as of late?” Scaramouche’s soft voice rang through your ears as he gently pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear. 

You shook your head. “I’m alright. No need for any worry.” 

It was a lie. 

Clearly. 

Anyone could tell it was a lie, especially your future husband. 

“Nonsense,” Scaramouche scoffed in a bitter tone. “You look deathly pale. I do not remember the maids asking me if they can powder your face.” 

“I’m alright, I can assure you-” 

“No. You have barely eaten since your arrival. I have felt you toss and turn in my bed. Your eyes are sunken in and I noticed you have been zoning out when someone has not been speaking to you directly.” 

“Scaramouche. I am to be wed,” tears pricked the corners of your eyes. The salty sting made you blink, a bitter tear making its way down your cheek. “I am to be wed in a different nation. I am to live in a different nation, hours upon hours away from my people. Those who I have grown to govern and love. Far from my family and those I am closest to. So please, forgive me if I have not been myself. I have been through far too much these last few weeks.” 

Scaramouche's heart clenched as he watched the tears stain your cheeks, his expression morphing from his earlier concern to tenderness. He pulled you closer to him, enveloping you in his arms as he gently ran his nails up and down your back in soothing motions. He understood your fears, he too would feel the same in such a position, but the thought of you being so upset and homesick made his chest tighten. 

"Hush, my dear... I know. I know this transition is difficult for you." His voice softened, arms encircling you to be protective. "But you must understand my worry... your symptoms have become worrisome."

“I’ll be alright…” you assured him, burying your face into his shoulder. Scaramouche held you in his arms, tilting your chin up to press his forehead gently against yours. His voice was low, filled with a mix of reassurance and gentle firmness.

"You will be alright. You’re strong and resilient. You always make your way through. But you must promise me that if your worries and declining health persist, you will let the physicians examine you. I can't bear to see you ill." He lifted his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours.. There was a flicker of worry still present in his eyes while his protective instinct refused to fade.

“I will, I promise…” 

“Good, I trust your word. We do not want to have you looking like a corpse on your wedding day now, do we?” 

“No, I suppose we do not. I am to look lively, not…deathly,” you sniffled, reaching with your sleeve to wipe at the tears. You stopped, pulling down the silk fabric before using the inner-side of your wrist. 

“Splendid. How about we return to our quarters, then? I’ll ask the maids to prepare you a bath and make you a warm meal. I want to allow you to rest for a bit. You deserve it, after all.” 

God, this was the man you were marrying? So sweet and kind…you couldn’t even imagine what he would be like once you would finally be his wife. You sniffled once more, unsure if the tears were from the built-up stress or the kind gesture. “Please, that sounds so lovely…” 

Scaramouche smiled softly, pulling you up by your hand. 

“I’ll notify them right away, then. I shall make sure your evening is spent well-rested,” he gently pulled you along, making what would be the first (and surely not the last) of many acts of service to the one he will love to the end of time. 

© property of cherrieshalo 2025 - please do not steal or copy my work to post elsewhere

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hiyaa!! i LOVE!!! your poly!maraduers x reader fics. i was wondering if you could make a fic where the reader has had an absolute horrid week and just got their period and our sweet boys comfort us bc of how good boyfriends they are 🥹🙏

-🌻

thanks for requesting! I hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: period cramps/symptoms, hurt/comfort

1k words

Your eyes were pinched tightly as you clutched your stomach, easing and tightening your hold as the pain ebbed and flowed. You had been feeling crummy all week with no explanation until you were getting ready to take a shower last night and saw the red rorschach stains on your thighs. Thankfully, you hadn’t bled on anything, but you still took extra care to check everywhere you had been sitting. After your panic had subsided, the previous few days had made sense. There had been a grating brick in the bottom of your stomach and a slimy feeling you couldn’t scrub from your skin. Either in addition to or because of these physical feelings, you had been particularly fragile. Your boyfriends had noticed your state, but you never confessed your emotions since there was no clear source, at least, until now. 

You were curled into yourself on the couch, as if the more condensed you were the less pain you would feel. You were nauseous to the point of not being able to stomach pain medicine. You had showered last night but still felt disgustingly greasy. There was a book open on the arm of the couch that you had been pretending to read, but eventually had no energy to continue. Remus was in the armchair next to you with his own book, while James mindlessly flicked through the television channels and Sirius sat in front of the coffee table with an array of snacks before him. They were leaving you mostly alone, probably assuming you were trying to sleep. Another cramp fizzed through your body and you winced, a small whimper escaping. Nearly silent, but Remus’ sharp hearing picked it up. He looked at you, clearly expecting some kind of obvious injury. 

“What’s wrong, dovey?” He looked like he was in pain himself. Remus was all too familiar with pain, but the idea of any of his loved ones hurting was enough to cause instant panic within him. 

“Nothing, I’m fine-” You almost had the sentence out when another cramp hit, making you screw your face up and inhale sharply. Sirius spun around at your reaction. You curled in on yourself further, tensing your stomach. 

“What’s going on with you?” Sirius had his rare no-nonsense tone. When you didn’t give a response he tried to pry your arms away from your torso, but you whined and scooted away. 

“I said it’s nothing.” You wanted to snap but you sounded too pitiful to have your desired effect.

“Hey. I’m not fucking around.” Sirius kept trying to inspect you, his brain clearly already at the worst case scenario. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“Pads, calm down.” James scolded before turning his attention to you. “Let us help you, sweetheart.” He coaxed. You huffed, abandoning your hopes of being modest. 

“It’s really nothing serious. Just some uh, cramping. From… you know.” You tried to smile. The boys confused, and then quickly relieved but they still didn’t go back for their previous activities like you hoped they would.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” Sirius slumped. “I thought you had fucking appendicitis or something.” 

“I think if I had appendicitis it would be a lot worse.”

“I don’t know, lovely girl.” Remus reached over both the arms of his chair and the couch to pet your head. “It looks like you’re hurting pretty badly.” He cooed a sad sound when you winced in pain again. 

“Have you taken anything?” James stood up, already heading to the bathroom medicine cabinet. 

“Not yet.” You said, feeling Remus’ wordless chiding. You could already hear what he wanted to say. ‘You have to get ahead of the pain, dovey.’ You took the pill bottle from James. 

“Have you eaten yet? You can’t take those on an empty stomach.” Remus reminded you. You sighed again, not from cramps this time. 

“No.” You said shamefully. Now you were being judged by the other two boys. 

“Baby,” James groaned, walking towards the kitchen now. Sirius was already shoving a package of mini muffins towards you. “Why?”

“My stomach hurt too much. I couldn’t get up.” You pouted, slowly chewing a muffin. 

“That was when you should’ve asked one of us.” Remus’ gentle bossy tone came out, the way it does when he’s feeling especially protective. 

“I would’ve been fine.” You reasoned. “I get this every month, it’s nothing out of the norm.” 

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt. Do you think it doesn’t hurt for Remus every month?” Sirius had a charcoal-drawn brow raised. 

“That’s different!” You floundered. “Of course it hurts for him.” You got instantly emotional. “I wasn’t saying that.” 

“Pads,” Remus huffed before turning back to you. “I know you weren’t. But you see the point. It still hurts for you.” 

“ And we still wanna look after you.” James appeared with a glass of water and a hot water bottle for your stomach. You took the medicine while he fixed the heat over your abdomen. When he was done he leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

“Thank you.” You mumbled. 

“Don’t thank me, darling.” He said, stroking your hair from your face. You jumped again when Sirius climbed on top of you without warning. 

“Siri! What are you doing?” You squealed as he settled his face into your neck.

“Lovin’ on you.” He said as it was the obvious answer.

“I’m disgusting right now.” You groaned, pushing his shoulders to shove him off. He just dead weighted and pulled you in closer. 

“Not possible, you’re mine.” He argued. James scoffed. 

“Oi! Not just yours!” James shoved Sirius away so he could kiss all over your scrunched face. You all but shrieked before he stopped, turning his attention to the TV remote. Sirius turned the two of you so you were on your sides, your back to his front facing the television. His hand was holding the hot water bottle to your stomach. Remus closed his book and laid on his side. His tall frame was folded in a way that was probably aching, but he still held it. He settled his head on the arm of his chair, nearly touching yours and Sirius’. 

“Are you feeling better, sweet thing?” Sirius asked quietly. 

“I do. Thank you.” You sounded awfully sleepy. 

“Wow. You two just shamelessly took advantage of the situation to turn us into the napping house.” James was trying to sound scolding but it just came out as affection. 

“It’s called being supportive, Prongs.” Sirius sassed, but you and Remus were already out. 

[crowleysgirl56]

Ok, so I wanted to do a deeper dive into this particular passage of Good Omens:

For context, this is at the climax of the book, they’re at Tadfield airbase, the horsemen have been dispensed with, Aziraphale has his body back, and Satan is about to claw his way out of the pit.

In most of the proceeding chapters involving Crowley it talks a lot about how scared Crowley is. He is very scared of Hell.

One could perhaps say maybe he is scared of them due to The Arrangement, but that is never explicitly stated. I think it has more to do with Hell is bad, and Crowley has spent the majority of the book being yelled at by some entity through the radio or TV telling him how he’s going to be in super amounts of trouble when they get their hands on him. He is just scared of what will happen. When he comes across the book shop burning he doesn’t cry for his lost friend. He curses Aziraphale, and I think it’s because the one person who may have been able to keep him safe and protected from Hell is now gone.

So when he thinks to himself (as shown in the above screen shot) that there is now nothing left for him to lose, this is why I never thought (upon reading the book the first time that is) there were any romantic feelings between him and Aziraphale. I know that technically he had already lost Aziraphale. But by this point he was back again, and back in his body. If there truly were romantic thoughts between them surely the idea of losing him again would come up.

I have read so much fanfiction, some old, some new, and what they all have in common is the detailed inner monologue of Crowley’s turmoil over his feelings for Aziraphale and how he doesn’t feel like he can act on them. In the book we get nothing of the sort, from either character. Even when they’re separated there is hardly ever any description of them thinking of the other except occasionally to frame a short reference to something. Reading the book I never got the impression that there was anything more than two ethereal beings spending time and proximity to each other and doing work for each other for no other reason than they’re essentially a bit lazy.

I think they’re only queer coded for the fact that there’s the line about Aziraphale appearing “gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitric oxide”, and Crowley is, well, very Freddie Mercury coded. Them being seen as gay together and all the gay slurs in the awful racist scenes of Aziraphale body hopping about in culturally indigenous people after the bookshop fire has more to do with the very typical 80’s/90’s trope of “being gay = comedy gold”, than them actually being together romantically.

I think the reason why they were shipped so much after the publication however is for the same reason we ship so many male couples (or female couple) in modern media, why we’ve always shipped them: because of the complete and horrid lack there of, of proper queer representation.

If you’ve ever seen the magnificent Russel T Davies TV series It’s a Sin, there is a wonderful scene where the character Ash starts a job in a school library and the headmaster asks him to go through all the books and find any book that has queer love scenes so they can be removed. Ash then gives a most beautiful and impassioned speech (albeit it turns out the speech is just in his head) of how there is nothing. Absolutely nothing. There is nothing to the point where they are nonexistent. They are invisible. They are not seen. (Or like, something to that effect. I tell you though, it’s bloody brilliant).

So I think that’s rather the point really. You have two iconic characters, albeit supporting bit characters practically, and I think a lot of our minds automatically get drawn to wanting to put them together because of the sheer lack of queer couples. People have been doing it for years from Frodo and Sam, to Harry Potter and Draco (or Ron I guess), to Sherlock and Watson (even before the Benedict Cumberbatch show. Also as an aside let’s not get into how obsessed people got about Sherlock Holmes back in the day when those books were first published. The obsession was the reason Doyle killed the character off the in first place, then after getting letters from people telling him they were literally going to kill themselves, the reasons why he resurrected him again. Don’t tell us that modern day nerds are weird and obsessive. We’ve ALWAYS been like this).

It’s for this reason why queer representation is so god damn important. Why I still support the idea of Good Omens season 3. Because regardless of how the characters were originally intending to be represented in the book, it’s very clear now that they are so much more than “Just friends”. And we NEED that! Whether you subscribe to the idea that they will be physically intimate with each other, the fact remains is they love each other. They love each other immensely. And that comes from years of Terry Pratchett (and the other guy) accepting that canon and telling fans that it’s true. Because Michael Sheen made a choice and held a belief about how he saw his character and then David Tennant followed suit. That literally tens of thousands of fanfiction writers have decided the same.

So that’s my take. I don’t think loving each other was ever intended that way in the book, but in the last 35 years their story has morphed into the ineffable husbands that we now know.

What are your thoughts? Have I rambled on long enough to make any sense? Do you agree? Have I missed something completely obvious and gotten it all wrong? Keen to hear thoughts.

[poeticallyspiteful]

Heyy! I’m absolutely obsessed with anything Charlie Weasley atm and when I saw that you were taking requests I knew had to ask for him! I’ll give you creative freedom but pls Charlie! Thank you so so so so much!❤️

reflecting light

charlie weasley x reader

angst / fluff?

cw: mentions of war and death, charlie threatens someone, minimally proof-read

summary: the war has destroyed everything—you could use some light.

notes: i love gilmore girls and wanted to write something more poetic sounding so here it is, thank you so much for the request and i hope you enjoy this piece <33

now that I've worn out

i’ve worn out the world

i’m on my knees in fascination

bill and fleurs wedding was beautiful. it was a bit solemn—melancholy, some might say— given the less than optimal circumstances surrounding it. but for one night, all those in attendance got to play pretend. act as though their lives were not in danger and like a war was not raging all around them.

but as much as you loved your friends, you were having a hard time pretending. the night itself was beautiful. the moon shown down, gorgeous and waning, and made the whole tent look as if it were glowing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to glow with it.

you sat at your table, sipping your champagne, looking around at the guests. having known the weasley’s since you were eleven years old, it was hardly the first time you’d met most of these people, but you couldn’t help but worry that this would be the last.

looking through the night

and the moon's never seen me before

but i’m reflecting light

“hey,” tonks said, snapping you out of that dark place with a gentle hand on your knee. you returned her warm smile as best as you could. “don’t get in your head now. everything’s alright.”

you took a shakey breath and nodded, and took a larger gulp of your champagne to wash those horrid thoughts down. “yeah, yeah of course.”

tonks smiled sadly, standing up and making her way back over to her parents. you looked down to your dress and swore it looked right back, dauntingly pretty. you wanted to tell it to stop, to be dull and sad just like everything else.

i rode the pain down

got off and looked up

looked into your eyes

you felt someone approaching you, and kept your head down, hoping the stranger would go away. however, the presence paused just behind you, looming over you like an umbrella from the rain.

“you haven’t danced.”

you turned around, chest suddenly feeling a tad bit lighter than it had before; charlie stood over you, clever smile on his lips. his already crooked tie had gone loosened but he still look as stunning as ever.

“everything seems far too pretty for the world right now,” you stated, tossing back the last of your champagne. “i just wanna sink into the ground and stay there forever.”

charlie’s jaw ticked and he stuck out his hand expectantly, eyes never leaving your face. “alright then, darling, but only if you dance with me first.”

the lost open windows

all around

my dark heart lit up the skies

suddenly the world around you felt gentle, like everything had melted away except for you and him. it felt as if the people around you had shifted into simple silhouettes and quiet murmurs when you took his hand.

he led you across the yard, and through your slippers, you felt bump and imperfection in the grass that you’d passed over every summer at the burrow. the very same spots you’d laid with him, staring at the stars.

the spot where you’d held him as he cried after his parents had reacted poorly to the job offer in romania— the spot where he asked you to go with him, and the spot where you’d agreed.

now that I've worn out

i've worn out the world

i'm on my knees in fascination

charlie brought you to a halt, carefully turning you to face him and once again, you only saw him. only smelled him, the strong scent of cedar and cinnamon on his skin. you only felt him as he pulled you closer by the waist.

slowly, you started swaying, soft and slow. awkwardly, at first, as you found your footing, but soon enough, it felt like you were floating. the sight, smell, and the feel of him consumed you— wrapped you up in massive, feathered wings and lifted you off the ground.

you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, slow and steady. everything felt slow, like each step took a century, or more like you were not even stepping at all. thoughts of blood and bruises were washed away with a rushing wave of nothing and everything all at once.

looking through the night

and the moon's never seen me before

but i'm reflecting light

the dark, weightless fabric of your dress seemed to glow under the moon the way the sky does when illuminated by stars. you felt charlie rest his chin a top your head, softly humming to the tune of the music.

you remembered the day you first met him, during your first year at hogwarts. you’d stumbled onto the train late, and the first compartment you found held a small, red headed boy and his older brother.

give up the ground

under your feet

hold on to nothing for good

your shoe laces were untied, your jeans were too big in some places and too tight in others, and your suitcase was bursting at the seams; you were the image of an awkward eleven year old.

as you struggled onto the train, face hot with embarrassment from being undoubtedly the last one to climb on, your eyes searched for an empty seat. the first ten or so compartments were full, and you were starting to get nervous— what if you couldn’t find a seat? you could feel the eyes on you and swore you heard some snickers leaking through the sliding doors. oh god, everyone was judging you, weren’t they? what a great start to your year.

finally, about five more compartments down, two carrot top heads caught your eye. ‘thank the gods’, you thought, ‘my saviors’. before you knew it, you were yanking the door open and two sets of emerald green eyes were staring back at you.

“is this seat taken?”

the younger boy smiled back at you. “nope.”

turn and run at the mean dogs

chasing you

stand-alone and misunderstood

“hey!”

you kept your head down, holding your books close to your chest— you’d left the greenhouse a little later than intended, and were praying you wouldn’t run into anyone.

you weren’t that lucky though.

“hey!” the ravenclaw boy—peter, you thought his name was—shouted again.

against your better judgment, you turned around, coming eye to mouth with crooked yellow teeth and rancid breath. fuck, you really should not have helped charlie pull that prank on him last year.

“listen, mudblood,” peter seethed. “you better—”

you barely peeked the top of a red mess of hair before peter was yanked back by his collar and all but shoved to the ground.

“fuck off.”

peter scoffed. “you think you scare me?”

charlie’s jaw clenched. “did you not here me? leave her alone, or i swear, i will hang you by the ankles in the middle of the great hall as a charms exercise for the first years. got that?”

“alright, alright!” peter squeaked, stumbling to his feet and limping away and cursing under his breath.

as charlie turned back to you, you couldn’t help but laugh, smacking his chest. he smiled down at you, his cheeks rosy— from the cold or your proximity, neither of you were sure.

“great timing,” you giggled as he hooked his arm through yours, starting back to the castle. “how’d you know i was in trouble?”

charlie shrugged. “i always know when you need me.”

now that i’ve worn out

i’ve worn out the world

i’m on my knees in fascination

but you weren't kids anymore. dumbledore was dead, a war was raging, and as much as you wanted to deny it, nobody was safe.

"i'm scared," you whispered, head still resting on charlie's chest.

charlie kept his chin atop your head. "i know."

looking through the night

and the moon's never seen me before

but i’m reflecting light

[claimedcrossbows]

Season 2 is Delivering us MORE Weyler & more Heartache!

So this is actually a surprise..I didn't expect sneak peak at all today, but here we are.

Alright the first thing I wanna say is what I've seen a lot of people point out, and I agree.

Hunter Doohan being the only person non Addams family related interviewed is VERY interesting.

And I believe that is only done when someone is a MAIN character/plot point within a series. This means a lot of this season more than likely is going to be centered around him, maybe even a 50/50 split with Wednesday is he really does appear in every episode this season as some rumors have said.

I think this is a really good sign that for one, Tyler won't be offed at the end of this season, and two we are guaranteed to get more Weyler even beyond season 2.

Now let me talk about something else a few people have noticed and pointed out and let me expand on it and give your my perspective as a film minor graduate and a Journalism graduate.

From what I've learned over time and in classes a big reason in editing to splice together scenes in a trailer/teaser/sneak peak etc..is to either misdirect completely, to avoid any spoilers, OR to foreshadow and hint at the correlations between these characters in scenes.

Now I'm not saying that's 100% what the film directors are doing in this video..but it is a MAJOR possibility.

To explain what I'm talking about is there is a edited clip of Gomez and Morticia dancing together and not only does this kind of mirror Wednesday dancing with Tyler and the Rave N as a couple..But this also reflects their relationship.

Tyler and Wednesday's relationship is much like a tango..calculated,sexy, a little chaotic..but absolutely beautiful.

So the fact they have this scene interlaced with the scene of Wednesday visiting Tyler at Willowhill..that could allude to Tyler having a further connection to the Addams family in the future.

But also proving that Wednesday and Tyler are still to some degree dance partners, only this time they're going to be partners in teaming up to stop whatever it is going on.

Now before this scene even happened.

We find out some more interesting things like..

Wednesday goes to the Galpin residence.

And it has been completely vandalized because the whole town now knows that Tyler was the Hyde.

And Oh boy..

This scene scares me for a lot of reasons because for one..

Is Donovan still living here?

And if he is..Donovan must be in an absolute horrid state of mind because every day he walks out of his home he is immediately met with a that huge sign in red, "EVIL LIVES HERE" as just a reminder at how he failed his son..

But I would lie to add maybe a brighter point of view to this scene that I also have learned over time and as a lover of film and literature. And that is a little thing called red herrings.

And actually I would say this scene might be a good sign for Tyler's character because I would say more than half the time a main characters goes somewhere where someone is accused of being horrible, and graffiti is all around their home.. 9/10 times the character in question actually turns out to be a good guy or simply misunderstood...so in this case..Tyler is just being misunderstood like most of us has said for years.

Now I'm going to back pedal a bit and talk about more that scares me about Wednesday visiting the Galpin house hold.

Now I'm not saying I'm a film expert/writer...but this would 100% be the scene where if I was a writer and wanted to off a character it would be when the main character goes to their house and finds them deceased..

I have said many times I think Donovan might die and I thought Wednesday would be the one to find him..well that could very well be that scene.

While she's there, she also might have a vision of Francoise Galpin...

We also find out that it looks like the Addams are moving into the Gates mansion and I actually am mad at myself for not seeing this coming..but this is perfect for a lot of reasons..but the main one i'm gonna focus on is that someone said Wednesday might have visions of what happened to Tyler at that mansion..

What if she sees the bathtub scream?

And realizes that he truly didn't want to go through with what Laurel was doing. Maybe that's why she eventually decides to go see Tyler because she believes there's still something worth saving within Tyler.

Anyway I'm gonna wrap it up, but this is getting very interesting.

[fluffywing-e-tarot]

Twins of Separate Paths: Reunion

Shen Qingqiu sighed as he could finally be in his own house. The peak lord meeting was an absolute slog. The sun was already setting despite Yue Qingyuan's attempts at keeping the meeting under two Sichen, but it had just tipped over into the fifth. Liu Qingge the Brute slammed his hands on the table, giving barely an excuse before storming out. Yue Qingyuan deemed the meeting over after that.

“How was your meeting?” the voice was sultry and teasing.

Shen Quinqiu was on alert again. There, sitting at the table, was someone with his face. He looked as if to had been reading. Someone who should be dead. The identical face smiled, knowing exactly what was going on. 

There were a few things Shen QuingQiu was grateful for his horrid master, Wu Yanzi. Demon identification is one of them.

 “Demon.” Qingqiu hissed in venom. Xiu Yan was pulled, pointing to the demon impersonating his dead brother.

“Hold Shen Qingqiu, this demon will explain,” the imposter said, feigning mock surrender as the blade hummed with Spiritual Qi close to the demon.

“Speak, beast,” Qingqiu said, not having time for any lies. He would not hesitate to kill the impostor.

“This Shi-di brought a gift,” the demon said. carefully holding up a token of his late brother in its fingers, as if the demon wasn't a threat. The Demon was even mocking him by using his brother's name. The stupid number the slavers gave them when they were plucked off the street.

“Speak clearly, demon.” Shen Qingqiu hissed. His Qi cut the demon's cheek. Not even looking at the misshapen wood scrap that was only vaguely shaped to look like a chestnut once they got to the Qiu household and strung on a scrap of leather from Jianluo‘s discarded hair ties.

“This one ate a Yao core seed. When this one was known as Shen Shi, a slave of the Qiu Family.” the Demon said. “The same character you now possess in your Courtesy that is branded into our skin.” The demon's voice was calm. The impostor didn’t flinch. Acting as if he hadn't been cut by Shen Jiu's Qi. So annoying. Shen Qingqiu should just run the demon through.

“You Lie. Shen Shi died.” Shen Jiu said, cutting towards the imposter. The impostor expertly dodged.“Demon!

“Shen Jiu never liked Qiu Huitang despite being betrothed.” the imposter said

Shen Qingqiu stopped Xiu Yan. A hair away from the demon’s neck.

Shen Qingqiu glared and wondered how the demon knew that. “Speak.”

The Demon's breathed out. “This one was once, Shen Shi. A disguised Demon gave this one the option of becoming a demon. This one believes that Shen Jiu found this demon in a death-like state. This shi-di appologies for leaving you. Hu Yuanshi believes that Qiu Jiangluo had despicable intentions towards Shen Shi. Having to run to avoid his plot.”

Shen Qingqiu stares into the Demon's eyes. Looking for any signs of a lie.  Shen Qingqui sits across from his twin. Xiu ya sheathed. “You speak the truth.”

Hu Yuanshi's shoulders slouched in relief. “Thank the Gods.”

“You didn’t reveal yourself for just a simple house call.” Shen Qingqiu said. Observing his twin. “How should I call you?”

“You may call me Shi or Yuan,” the Demon said. Yuan pulled a mask that had been on the table closer to him. Fingers playing with the decorations on the mask, “Whichever you prefer, gege.”

Shen Qingqiu placed down his fan. Yuan was trying to be open. Perhaps, he could do the same.

“I will go with Yuan. What did you want?” Qingqiu circled back to figure out why the Demon was here in the first place. Additionally, how the demon got into Chang Quin.

“Do you remember, around seven years ago, when a Demon entered the sect?” Yuan said eyes more focused on his mask. Qingqiu remembered. He hadn’t seen the demon before it slipped away. But it got in. 

“That demon was me,” Yuan confirmed. The borders and demonic defences would need to be examined. Reoccurrences would be looked at as failure. “On that day, amid the alert of my arrival. This didi saw you. This one had no intention of what happened on that day.”

Was Yuan attempting to apologize? There was nothing lost in the alarm. Maybe a few scraps or burses, but there was nothing lost.

“Since that day, you might have noticed you were exceptionally angry or depressed,” Yuan said. “This afternoon, you were irritated.”

Qingqiu’s eyes narrowed. How would Yuan know that? Yuan noticed locking eyes with him.

“Oh. I didn’t explain that.” Yuan said, “This one is a Yi Quin Yao. This one can, on occasion, connect with another person’s emotions without touching them.”

“This Master sees,” Qingqiu said. His hand was twitching for his fan to hide his contemplation.

Yuan's head snapped up. “You don’t have to lie about understanding. This one will explain.”

Shit. Qingqiu thought he felt my confusion. Wait, he felt my confusion. Several other questions were bouncing around.

“On that day, you marked me.” Shen Qingqiu said. Understanding is finally coming together. With all of Yuan’s statements, he’s said so far.

“Yes,” Yuan said, regret deep in his voice. “My instincts told me to look at you. Deciding that you were worth a feast.”

“Yuan di has waited seven years to tell this one?” Qingqiu demanded. “Not only of your new life. But that you see this one as food!”

“I wanted to break it the moment it formed!” Yuan shouted back, “ I didn’t know how.”

Yuan calmed himself. “Feast Marks, act differently from Meal Marks. With Meal Marks, I take the largest proportion of emotion at the time that made the mark in the first place.”

Yuan is looking directly at Qingqiu’s eyes. “Afterward, if a different emotion brushes up against my mark, it snaps or I break it.”

“Feast marks, as I learned after marking yours. Pull on multiple emotions, and all of the emotions need to be broken. Simultaneously.” Yuan said. Taking a deep breath. As if his next words would condemn him. “This demon made a Feast Mark on Qi-ge.”

"When did this happen?” Qingqiu growled, gripping Xiu Ya’s scabbard.

“Three months ago,” Yuan said. Embarrassed that he couldn’t get to it sooner.

“That’s what changed!” Qingqiu said. His face fell into his hands.“ You always do this, Didi. You go off and make a mess. Then come to me when the problem is beyond what you can handle.”

“Actually, I come with a solution this time.” Yuan said, offended, “This is more your problem than mine.”

“What do you mean?” Shen Qingqiu asked.

“This one didn’t want to feed off of his brother’s,” Yuan said. “Thus, I needed a solution. This one made observations of when the Marks spiked. Noticing that you each peaked around the same time, and thus deduced you were nearby with the most emotions active.” 

“Why do you believe that?”

“Well, you both had regret and sadness during the peak lord meeting. Yue Qingyuan had a little more desire there, too. You had more anger.” Yaun then clapped his hands together. "Thus, to break my curse of feeding off of you and Qi-ge. You two need to talk out your feelings.”

“Why?” Shen Qingqiu was confused about why talking about feelings is necessary.

“You're connected and regretting the actions of the past. The Qiu household needs to be talked about.” Yuan said

“By the Endless Abyss No.” Shen Qingqiu said. A mask of jade features sliding into place.

“I am incapable of breaking  the Feast Marks.” Yuan said Dryly, pointing at Shen Qingqiu, “So it has to be you. Who figures it out. So stop breaking each other’s Hearts. Your Sect Sibblings and Cultivators. A dangerous profession. Talk it out before it’s too late.”

“I think your time here has expired.” Shen Qingqiu said.

“Fine,” Yuan said. Slamming his shoddy carving on the table. Frustration flowed in every one of his movements. Yuan pulls his mask on, concealing all of the features that made them identical. He appeared like a fox. Yuan stomped towards the door. Then stopped.

Yuan turned towards Shen Qingqiu.  They locked eyes.

“This Hu Yuanshi loves his elder brother very much.” The Demon bowed to him. “ This Yuan thanks the Esteemed Peak Lord, of Qing Jing Peak, of the Cang Qiong Moutan sect, Shen Qingqiu, for hearing this Didi, who walks a different path out. This Didi wishes you to find happiness as” 

Yuan pauses, seeming to try to find his words. “ You were the best part about the Qiu Household.”

Yuan steps out of the bamboo house and is gone. Shen Qingqiu follows after him. Desperate words to keep Yuan here, just a little longer. They touch his heavy tongue, but the moment he steps out of the door. Nothing indicates the presence of a demon or which way he traveled.

Shen Jiu wants to shout and cry. He messed up. He pushed his brother away. Like an idiot.

Shen Shi may not be his name any longer. Shen Jiu’s Didi may never return.

Original & Master Post

Next: Romance plot points

Previous: Mistaken Identity

[krems-chair]

The potential we missed out on by only getting like two tiny Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan cutscenes is sickening for fans of the classic "two dramatic idiots stumbling their way through an evil plan" trope.

For your consideration:

-Elgar'nan walks in on Ghilan'nain interviewing quivering Venatori candidates for who will be on dragon duty next. Every time one of them gives a wrong answer, she screams, picks them up with a set of arms, and turns them into pure nightmare fuel. Elgar'nan asks her to pick someone already because the dragons are getting hungry and their screams are hindering his focus. Ghilan'nain pitches a fit, kills all but one Venatori in her incontrollable state, and the one unlucky bastard who survived gets the job by default.

-Ghilan'nain is dramatically blighting an elven grove. When she turns to face Elgar'nan so that they might revel in their sinister-ness, he is nowhere to be found. She has to tromp through a thicket to find him, and when she does he's glaring at a statue of Fen'harel in front of which a tiny offering has been placed. Ghilan'nain remarks that he still wields the loyalty of the riff-raff everywhere, and Elgar'nan, in his infinitely composed, calculated way, throws a tantrum in which he burns the offering and smashes the statute. Over the wreckage, he vows that the Dread Wolf's meddling will be futile this time, before pouting and asking Ghilan'nain to make sure to cover any future statues in "extra blighted" blight.

-Elgar'nan is adjusting his wig-crown in front of an eluvian he's blocked from using. He got a portrait painted and it wasn't quite right and now that he's killed the painter (their corpse is just chilling in a corner) he has time to rectify the situation while they wait for the Venatori or Antaam to figure out who tf amongst them is going to be sacrificed to take another shot at it. Ghilan'nain is in a moulding armchair, resting her absolutely horrifying appendages on a Venatori-turned-footstool (this inspires the one dude at the Venatori rave). Elgar'nan becomes insecure that the masses will not tremble before his visge as they once did, and Ghilan'nain eagerly assures him he's still got it. The Venatori footstool accidentally looks at Elgar'nan in his state of partial baldness. The scene pans out as Ghilan'nain pitches a fit that this is the third time this week that he's singed her furniture. -Elgar'nan is SEETHING after getting taunted within an inch of his life by Solas in the fade. He goes on a tirade about all the ways in which he used to be harder/better/faster/stronger back in the day, while Ghilan'nain monotonously corrects him every time and brings up a way in which Solas trounced them with the energy of a parent repeating the same sentiment over and over to their raging toddler. Elgar'nan eventually snaps at her and makes a comment about how nothing she's created lately has been up to snuff. She gets affronted, cries, and says that at least she can give her creatures hair. There is a moment of silence before the two dramatically start weeping about how hard it is to rebuild an empire and proceed to give each other over-the-top apologies ("I always thought you looked ferocious with pits where your eyes should be" "Fen'harel does not know the favor you do to his appearance by not competing with his baldness"). They vow to destroy a city together to renew the teamwork spirit. -Ghilan'nain is dead. Elgar'nan is furiously rallying the masses but is so up in his own bullshit that he keeps forgetting she's there and stepping on some part of her blighted body and making a horrid squelching sound that sends his troops wincing. The Venatori from the rave who is obsessed with Rook makes the mistake of standing a little too close to the frontlines and we get a very Hades-looking-at-Pain-wearing-his-Hercules-sandals moment in which Elgar'nan sees he's gotten a tattoo of a Rook chess piece. "I don't know. I thought it looked kind of dashing." Elgar'nan sets the Rook-stan on fire, accidentally incinerating Ghilan'nain's corpse in the process. More weeping ensues.

[janeyseymour]

You Matter To Me- pt 2

part 1

Summary: You fall into a routine with Melissa as your impending divorce takes over your life.

WC: ~2.6k

Melissa holds onto you, without an ounce of selfishness as you tell her the horrors of your life. She wraps you up in her arms and holds on tight. She doesn’t pull away, she doesn’t look at your face, and she doesn’t try to kiss you. All she does is stay there as long as you’ll let her, just like she promised.

For once in your life, the things that you’re saying… you feel like they matter to the redhead.

On the outside, your coworker is calm and collected. But on the inside? She’s absolutely seething. Melissa feels a fire starting in her heart. How dare someone treat anyone, but specifically you- sweet and lovely you- in such horrid ways? And it’s not even like this is something that has been going on for a short amount of time… God dealt you a horrible hand, and you’ve been putting up with abuse in every which way for the entirety of your life.

Your father is lucky he’s dead and gone now, but Mason? If the redhead can help it, he will never walk a free man’s breath again. She’s not quite sure how she could manage that, so she internally settles for getting you the hell out of this house, helping you divorce him, and then ensuring that you never have to put up with anything of the sorts again in regard to him or any other person who might try to use you for the goodness of your heart and body. She’ll meet with every guy she has a connection with in this city and make more ziti than she ever thought possible if it means that you finally will be able to walk free of hurt in this world.

“I just don’t know what to do,” you whisper as your tears begin to fade. “I don’t know. Like, I know I have to leave him, but the logistics of it all-”

“Don’t worry about all that,” Melissa tells you. “I’ll handle it.”

“What do you mean you’ll handle it?”

“Don’t worry about it,” the gruff woman tells you.

You look at the woman sitting with you. She looks enraged. And you know the connections that she has. “Mel, you- you can’t kill him.”

“I never said I would,” the redhead states.

“Nobody can,” you whisper. “I- As much as he’s awful, I- I wouldn’t wish death on him.”

As much as she wants to protest that she doesn’t care, that he deserves it, she nods her head. She feels the same way about some of her former boyfriends- absolute shitheads, but she wouldn’t wish death upon them. “I’ll still be here, right by your side, to help you through it all.”

“I- I don’t have enough saved,” you groan. “I can pretty much pay for a divorce lawyer, and then I’m going to have to move back-”

“I know a guy who can help you with the divorce, I know another guy who will help you with a restraining order, and you can use all of the money in your savings for a new house or apartment.”

You shrug. “I still don’t know if I can afford it… living in Philly is expensive.”

“So you’re going to go back home and repeat the cycle of abuse?” Melissa challenges. “Like hell you are. I told you I’m here for you, so if you can’t afford a place on your own, you can move in with me.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “I- I can’t put myself on you like that.”

“You ain’t. I’m offering. Think about it. You get your case worked pro-bono, and my house is all paid off, so I’m just paying for utilities and all that. By moving in with me, you’re actually doing me a favor. Eat my food, since I only know how to cook for twelve and constantly have leftovers, and we can split utilities with me until you can get back on your feet. You’re saving way more than you would if you moved back home, and I’ll know you’re safe if you’re with me.”

You search her eyes for any hint of ingenuity or hint that she’s only doing this for show, but you can tell that she genuinely wants what is best for you. She’s here for you, and she’s offering all of these services because she truly cares about you in such a selfless way.

You just barely nods, and she smiles softly. “Just know that you’re on the hook to help me make all the food we’re gonna have to give out.”

By some Grace of God, you’re able to obtain a divorce lawyer in the short time that your husband is away. You’ve also managed to start the filings of a restraining order against Mason while he’s out of town. And, with the help of a few caring teachers and some of the redhead’s stronger cousins, your things have been moved out of your house and into Melissa’s.

When your husband gets back from his work trip, all that remains of yours in that house is the now dull and dingy rings he had given you on top of a pile of divorce papers and a pile of the restraining order papers. He immediately dials your number.

You’re sitting on Melissa’s couch, trying to settle in as much as you can, when your phone starts ringing loudly.

The redhead is sitting in her recliner and glances down at your phone. She glances to you, and when you lean forward to pick up the device with shaking hands, she snatches it. You instinctively flinch at her aggressive motion.

“You are not answering that,” Melissa tells you. “There is no fucking way I’m letting you answer that phone call and go back. It isn’t happening.”

“Melissa,” you sigh softly.

“No. If you answer that phone call, he is going to know where you are, and he is going to kill you,” your new roommate states. 

“If I don’t answer, it’s putting you in-”

“If he so much as tries to show up here, he’s fucked,” Melissa tells you confidently. “But if you leave here now, you are not going to make it out of this situation alive.”

Before you can think to say anything else, your phone stops ringing. It begins again. Immediately, your coworker turns off your cellular device.

Leaving Mason is a messy ordeal. You knew it was going to be the second that you decided you had to get out of the life you’ve been trapped in for far too long. There are many protective measures put into place to keep you from your soon-to-be ex-husband. You also knew that falling into a new routine and lifestyle would be a long experience. What you weren’t expecting was to have such a hard time transitioning to this new life. Melissa does everything she can for you to become comfortable, but being comfortable is a lot easier said than done.

The woman drives the both of you to work, and she insists that your car stay in her enclosed garage while everything is still swirling in terms of your divorce and restraining order. Not having control of the car that you’re in is something that you’re used to, but putting your life in your coworker’s (sometimes rage filled) hands is scary. When she yells and curses at the idiots around you for their driving, you shrink in your seat. She sees it immediately.

“I’m sorry, hun,” the redhead’s voice turns as smooth as honey. “I’ll try to keep it to myself.”

And when she jerks the car because she has to slam on her brakes for a myriad of reasons, you can’t help but flinch when her arm protectively comes flying towards you to keep you and your healing body from crashing into the dashboard. Of course, she apologizes when she sees how terrified you truly are.

You give her a small shrug and a shy smile. “You’re not doing anything wrong. You don’t have to apologize.”

Slowly, you become more comfortable with her actions and words in the car. They’re never directed in a harmful way towards you. If anything, she’s yelling and cursing at these idiots for putting you in danger. You find it endearing that she doesn’t care that these people are reckless for her sake, but for yours. 

Being in the house is… it’s warm in a way you weren’t quite expecting. You knew the woman was Italian, and her people tend to be a bit rough around the edges but would go to bat for those they love. You find yourself in shock that you are part of that group for Melissa- although you aren’t sure why you would be surprised; she so graciously allowed you to move in with her in order to keep you out of another shitty situation.

When you moved in with her, you promised your new roommate that you would help chip in on expenses when it came to rent.

“I already told ya, it’s taken care of.”

“Then I’ll pitch in more than half for utilities and groceries.”

“Like hell you will.”

For as loud as she tends to be at school, walking around in her heeled boots that clink against the tile, she treks through the house nearly silently in her slippers or sock clad feet. And in the beginning of you living with the redhead, she catches you off guard quite often. She hates that she forgets how skittish you still are.

You’re sitting at the dining room table trying to grade papers while you assume she’s in the living room watching her television show, but then you hear a voice behind you and an arm on your shoulder.

Without thinking, you jump nearly three feet in the air and whip around with eyes blown wide to see who is trying to get to you.

“Shit,” Melissa groans to herself. She looks at you regretfully. “Hun, I’m sorry. I thought you heard me.”

You’re still trying to catch your breath, a hand over your heart. It’s beating out of your chest.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” The redhead clearly feels awful. You break out of your trance just enough to let your colleague know that she has nothing to be sorry for. “No. I didn’t mean to scare the shit outta you.”

“I just didn’t hear you comin’,” you try to laugh, but it comes out as awkward and stilted, your voice wavering just slightly. “Used to knowing you’re coming with your heels at school.”

It doesn’t go unnoticed by you that now whenever Melissa makes her way through the house, you can hear her because she saunters through her house with a different pair of slippers on- moccasins, that alert you of her being.

You’re able to get your restraining order request fulfilled with some help from one of Melissa’s connections, but the divorce is still pending. Your divorce lawyer ends up being one of the best in the city because of the redhead you live with now. Despite him having the street credit that he does, your case is still being dragged out. You knew it would take forever. There was no way that your husband would agree to any of the terms that you had previously settled on, only prolonging everything further. It also doesn’t help the timing having to go through lawyers and representatives because you feel unsafe being in the same room as him (despite the fact that there are multiple bodies in the room to ensure your safety).

But any legal meetings that you have to be present at, Melissa is right by your side- just as she promised. She believes everything that you shakily tell your lawyer. The things that you tell this man are taken seriously, and it only helps to build a better case for you.

When you leave, the redhead is always there to hold your hand on the car ride home and promise you that you’re making the right decision. Melissa stays by your side for as long as you need her, for as long as you’ll let her. She promises to you that you matter, and you’re one step closer to being a free woman, no longer tied to that horrid man.

She holds you for longer than twenty minutes on those days- letting you feel anything that you need to. She doesn’t ever pull away first. She doesn’t even look at your face. And as much as she wants to kiss you, she doesn’t. All she does is wraps you up in her arms, and she holds on as tightly or as loosely as you need that specific day. She does it all for you, without any sense of selfishness. Melissa would admit that holding you feels nice and natural, but she shakes her head softly at the mere thought of holding you with any intention other than to provide you with the comfort that you need in that very moment.

Once you’ve gotten past the transition of living with Melissa Schemmenti, it’s quite nice. The routines that you fall into never fail you. The two of you spend most of your time together, her claiming that she’s just doing her duty to keep you out of harm’s way, but there’s a small part you that thinks maybe she genuinely just does enjoy spending time with you. You get ready for work together, have breakfast together, go to staff meetings together, have lunch with the group together (although you’ve found that you’ve been invited to hers and Barb’s sacred table), and then when work is over, you make dinner and enjoy it together before retiring to the couch for an evening of relaxation. Chores and grocery shopping is usually done together, and it’s warm. You’ve found something of a domestic life partner in Melissa- you aren’t quite sure if you’ll ever be ready to enter another relationship, as much as you have come to terms with the fact that you may have feelings for your coworker turned roommate.

After far too long, your divorce is finalized, and you couldn’t be more thrilled. The feeling of freedom is so overwhelming that you can’t help the burst of emotion you end up showing. That night, Melissa is nothing but warm and sweet- telling you that you’re on your way to healing. She holds you just like she has been, and the amount of takeout food that you consume rivals tailgate parties for the Eagles.

Now that you’re free from Mason, your restraining order is finalized, and you’ve actually caught wind that he’s moved out of the city and a few towns over though, the reality that you technically don’t need Melissa’s protective streak anymore. Now that you’re out of your previous situation, you come to the realization that your neighbor will probably begin to pull back because she has no obligation to keep you under her wing anymore. 

And that… that breaks you in the oddest way. You’re free from the fear that you’ve been living in, and you have more than enough savings to move out.

Not that you would know it, but Melissa is also having feelings about this. What if you don’t want her around anymore, or you want to move out now that you have a plentiful of wealth due to not having to pay for rent.

Neither of you speak of it the night that everything is finalized. Instead, you revel in the success and allow yourself to feel comfortable- as if come tomorrow everything will change. 

Tags

 (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights

[lqveharrington]

Favorite Surprise | A.W.

summary: You and Lana surprise Aaron when you come home from a doctor’s appointment.

pairing: dad!Aaron Warner x mom!reader

includes: fluff, pregnancy hormones, kissing

a/n: i love my blonde husband 🤍

When you were pregnant with Lana, you never felt the need to throw up in the mornings. You always felt light headed and tired, but you never felt the need to empty your stomach. You always thought throwing up was something that a mother had to go through when pregnant, but your case proved otherwise. When you and Aaron were worried about the situation, you went to the girls about it. They assured you that all was well with you and your child and that sometimes women don’t feel the need to throw up in the mornings. You and Aaron thought it was because you hated throwing up in general, so your mind automatically would never do it unless absolutely necessary.

However, you were thoroughly surprised when you threw up this morning the second you woke up. Aaron was shocked to say the least. He immediately came to your side and held back your hair while rubbing your back as you emptied the contents of your stomach in the toilet.

“Love, what did you eat last night?” He pushed your hair out of your face. His eyebrows were pushed together and his eyes were darting across your face. “Do you remember?”

You shake slowly, feeling a headache approaching. You grab on of his hands and squeeze it, feeling for the pulse. “I ate the same things you and Lana did.”

Aaron sighed and kisses your temple delicately, “Maybe it’s just a stomach bug, love.” He thumbed your hand softly as you flush the toilet. “You’re okay, it’s okay…” He helped you stand, grasping at your hands when you stumbled. “Do you want medicine?”

“Yes, please.” You lean against the sink, needing to rinse your mouth of the horrid taste.

As he left the bathroom — albeit checking you once more before leaving — you let your thoughts consume your mind.

It felt so horrible to throw up in the morning, and you were so glad your daughter didn’t have that effect on you when you still carried her. And your headache that throbbed your frontal lobe just made you more nauseous, but there wasn’t anything you could if it truly was a stomach bug. You would just have to let it pass.

Over the next few days, your nausea wasn’t relenting. You threw up more and more each day. Your mind was reeling at the constant battle of getting up every morning just to throw up. Fortunately, Aaron had been gracious enough to take care of business whilst you stayed home from work, trying to get better from whatever was causing your morning sickness.

You would out that the sickness would only last for the mornings and you would be fine the rest of the day. That meant, you were still able to make sure Lana got to school and back. But the mornings would completely tarnish your mood for the day.

For instance, today you were helping Lana with her breakfast when you ran to the bathroom to throw up. Of course — like the sweet angel she was — she brought you a cup of water to help soothe your throat. She didn’t understand what was happening, but she knew if she saw you in a distressed state that she had to help.

“Mommy, what’s wrong?” She sat on the tiled floor beside you, rubbing your hand in confusion and slight distress. “You’re throwing up a lot now.”

You give her a weak smile and run your fingers through your hair, flushing the toilet. “I’m not sure, baby. I think I have to go to your Aunt’s workplace to check it out.”

“Are you sick?” Lana touched your cheek, something she gained from you and Warner when checking her temperature.

The look in your eyes softened at her action, “Maybe.” You squeeze her hand in reassurance. “But right now, you need to get to school, little miss.”

Like always, you drove Lana to school and pressed a delicate kiss to her cheek before waving her off, smiling as her blonde curls bounced with each step. You sighed softly and drove home. You called the girls on the way home and scheduled an appointment after you picked Lana up from school. They told you that your sickness was definitely not something to worry about.

When she hung up, you called Aaron and informed him of your appointment, allowing him to know that you were going to finally understand what was happening.

“Aaron?” You ask softly as the ringing stops, making you look down at your phone.

You heard shuffling coming from his side before he responded. “Yes, love?” He shifted around some more before speaking again. “Is something wrong?”

You put the car in park and sit idly in the leather seat, massaging your stomach carefully. “I made an appointment with one of the girls. I’m heading to their place after I pick Lana up from school today.” You rub your forehead again, “I’m tired of not knowing what’s happening to me.”

It gets quiet between you two before you pick up Aaron’s voice again, noticing the hesitation underlying the question. “You don’t think you’re pregnant, right? I mean, the girls said morning sickness is usually paired with pregnancy.”

The moment he mentions pregnancy, you think about your symptoms. Sure, you had similar symptoms when you were pregnant with Lana, but you didn’t think throwing up would ever be part of it because of your daughter. You spin your engagement and wedding rings, thinking about the possibility. You wouldn’t be mad at the idea. In fact, you would be elated yet heavily surprised.

“I… I don’t want to rule it out, I should say.” You murmur and move to get out of the car. You rub your stomach subconsciously at the thought. “I’ll let you know what happens.”

You and Lana patiently sat on the examination table, waiting for one of the girl’s to enter. She was telling you all about her day in preschool as you ran your fingers through Lana’s blond hair. She was in the middle of telling you what happened during recess when Sara walked in. Well, her godmother.

“Aunt Sara!” Lana giggled and hugged her aunt’s legs in excitement. She tugged on Sara’s white coat, bringing her closer to you. “Will you help mommy feel better?”

Sara looked down at her goddaughter and rubbed her cheek, “Of course. I’ll do anything to help your mommy.”

You mouthed sorry to her at Lana’s unexpected behavior before smiling. “Sorry for the rushed appointment. I just need to know what’s going on with me right now.”

“No need to apologize.” She helped Lana up onto the table and squeezed your arm in comfort. “Sonya said that if our powers don’t work, it might be something different. We have to run a few tests to be sure.”

Although you trusted Sara with all your heart, you were nervous. What if they were dealing with something new and couldn’t heal you? What if the tests say something horrid? What if—

“Have you tried testing to see if you’re pregnant yet?” Sara tapped her pen on the clipboard, reading your symptoms. “Morning sickness is common with pregnancy.”

You shake your head as you look over at Lana who was reading a book far advanced for someone her age. “Aaron thought the same thing… I thought that it couldn’t be because I didn’t throw up when I was with Lana.”

Sara felt your forehead slightly for any odd temperatures, “It’s always a possibility.” She glanced at your daughter before looking back at you with a newfound interest. “Why don’t you take a test here? We’ll run it for you before we try any other testing incase you may be pregnant.”

You flush red, “Uhm…” You watch as she moves to grab a cup and hands it to you. Looking around, you point down to the cup. “Do I just…?”

“Yup.” She gave you a humorous smile. “This could’ve been avoided if you took a test at home, love.”

Lana whipped her head up at the nickname as you moved to head to the bathroom. “Aunt Sara! You can’t call mommy love! Only daddy is allowed to call her that.” She glared at her godmother, making you stifle a laugh as Sara looked at her with wide eyes.

Sara raised her hands slowly and played into Lana’s thoughts, “Sorry, I won’t do it again!”

Your smile softens as you think about your life with Lana and Aaron. You thought it was impossible to love one person so much. But then Lana came into your life and you found it impossible to share your infinite love with the both of them. Truly, your heart was so full when it came to those two. From the second you met Aaron and the second you met your child, you were too far gone to see how madly in love you were with them and how you hold do anything to protect them.

When you returned with the cup, it seemed as if Lana made up with Sara as she spoke about her school day animatedly. You handed Sara the cup carefully and sat next to Lana, letting her climb into your lap.

Sara capped the cup before grabbing her clipboard and smiling at the both of you. “I’ll be back shortly.” She gave you one reassuring smile before leaving.

You ran your fingers through Lana’s blonde hair for a minute before she spoke up, curious to why you handed her godmother a cup of something.

“What is she gonna do with the cup, mommy?” Lana looked up at you with her bright green eyes, playing with your rings.

“She’s going to test if mommy has a baby growing in her tummy.” You respond softly and kiss her cheek. You watch as her mind processes the information.

“Really?” Her eyes shined brightly before confusion took over. “Wait, how would a baby get into your tummy?”

“Well we don’t know if—“

Sara rushed in the room with a smile on her face, handing you a paper. You took the paper gently and read its contents, eyes widening as Lana gave you another curious stare.

“You’re pregnant!”

You nod softly, hand going to your stomach in joy. “Oh my god…” You look up at Sara before looking back at your daughter. “Oh my god, I’m pregnant.”

Lana squirmed in your lap, not liking that she didn’t understand what was happening. “So… There’s a baby in your tummy?”

You nod again and kiss her cheek over and over again. “That’s exactly what being pregnant means, sweet angel.”

The second you parked the car and unlocked the manor’s doors, Lana came running into the halls, her voice echoing through the gigantic space. “Daddy, we’re home!” She giggled as she held a crème envelope in her arms, looking back to see you walking behind her. “Daddy?”

Aaron responds from his office down the hall, eyes darting across the many papers surrounding his desk. “I’m in here, angel!” His eyes snap up as he hears Lana burst through his office doors, practically bouncing off the walls with how much energy she had. “Did you have too much sugar?” He teased as she smiled up at him, leaning back in his chair. “Why are you so hyper?”

“Because mommy—“

You cover her mouth and shush her. You stifle another laugh at her muffled protests, rounding around the desk to press a loving kiss to Aaron’s lips. He smiled into the kiss and chased after your lips when you parted.

Snapping out of his daze, he raised a brow in your direction. “What was that for?”

“The kiss or this?” You gesture to your daughter licking your hand in silent protest for being shushed.

He shrugged as he took your other hand and guided you to sit on the desk in front of him. “Both.”

You blow him an air kiss and sit on the desk, releasing Lana from your hand and wiping it on your sweater. “I’ll let Lana tell you since she was about to spoil the surprise we had for you.”

The young girl immediately climbed into her father’s lap, holding a pretty envelope in front of his face. “This is from Aunt Sara!” Lana looked back at you and giggled, making you shush her again.

Aaron gives you a curious glance before opening the envelope. When he pulled a paper out, he was slightly confused before flipping it over. It was a sonogram. At first he thought it was an old one of Lana when she was still in you before he glanced at the date in the corner and the small dot in the middle of the picture.

Lana looks back at you again as she saw her father’s reaction change. You nod and Lana grins widely, “Surprise!”

You meet Aaron’s eyes as he looks up at you, tears in his own eyes as you say softly, “Surprise!”

Aaron smiles back at you and holds Lana steady in his arms. He moves to stand in between your legs and bends to meet you in a mind searing kiss, making you squeal in surprise. He separates and rests his forehead on yours, “You’re pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant.” You cup his cheek as he kisses you again and again. You hum and continue, “And I definitely think it’s a boy because of how many times I’ve thrown up.”

He chuckles and continues peppering your mouth in kisses, “Oh god, you’re pregnant.” He shuts his eyes softly before opening them again, giving you more kisses. “I couldn’t love you more

Lana pouts as she doesn’t receive attention from either parents. She taps her father’s cheek, snapping him out of his small spell. “Daddy.”

“Yes, baby?” He parts from your lips and adjusts his daughter in his arms, putting her in between the both of you.

She smiles again when she realizes she has both yours and Aaron’s attention. “Did you like the surprise we had for you?”

“My favorite surprise ever.” He kissed her cheeks as she laughs. “I’m so happy. I’m so happy for mommy. And I’m so happy for you, Lana. You’ll be a big sister.”

“I am happy. I am very happy.” She nods as she processes his words before touching your belly softly. “And I think the baby will be happy too.”

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