#insects are beautiful i am NOT hearing anyone out

[miesozernacma]

you know fucking what i love insects i fucking love bugs you will NOT make me feel bad for loving these creatures and collecting their corpses when i find them I THINK THEY'D LIKE THAT A BIG GIANT BEYOND THEIR COMPREHENSION APPRECIATES THEIR MINIATURE MIRACLE OF AN EXISTENCE !!!!! EVEN IF THEY'RE NOT ALIVE TO SEE IT!!! I KNOW I'D LOVE HAVING AN ETERNAL EXISTENCE AS SOMEONE'S HOME DECOR OR COLLECTIBLE ITEM!!!!!!

FUCK YOU!!!!!!!! LEAVE MY BUG HOUSE!!!!!!!!

[hugemilkshake]

happy new years! and still no new ananas dragon cookie content...i am so MISERABLE AND HUNGRY

but you are whats left of my hope...so may i request MORE yandere ananas dragon cookie? but in their costume version- raging calamity. for some reason ananas's raging calamity fits them for somewhat yandere, if you get what im on about...heh. the plot can be anything! but heres an idea, maybe reader is being held captive.

thanks, and have a nice day wherever you are! *disappears

Enjoy the milkshake! I was planing on making something with a costume and a was stuck between the Cookiemals' Forest Welcome Party and Blackberry Cookies Ghastly Bride in ToA

A raging calamity

-romantic or platonic-

!TW! Under the cut there are themes like overprotectiveness, bad coping mechanisms, and guilt tripping

It was all gone.

The islands. The thing Ananas Dragon worked so hard to protect. It was all gone.

Except… one lone cookie…

When looking around to see if anything survived of their islands they spotted a cookie who seemed to be deeply injured in the water.

Ananas Dragon took no time to get the cookie out, their dough was soggy, they seemed to be barely hanging onto life.

They were the last thing left of Ananas dragons beloved islands.

They were going to protect this cookie. Even if it means others die for them.

—————————————

If you had one word to describe Ananas Dragon, it would be jealous. They were jealous. I mean, they destroy everything they come into contact with, when you asked about it, the respons you got was threatening yet… sad..

“Because if I can’t have the wonders and beauty of life, no one can.”

You knew that your home was destroyed, you were distraught of course, but… you didn’t take it out on everyone else! I mean… not that you could anyways..

You always had Ananas looking over your shoulder, if you even got a scratch, you’d have the dragon in tears, crying about how they couldn’t lose you too and that if you left, you’d be dead.

You wanted to leave but seeing the once generous and caring be so… broken made you feel like you had to stay…

I mean if you left, more cookies would be harmed. Because you left a fragile and lonely dragon.

So for the time being… you’ll stay put, maybe Ananas Dragon will come around and see the harm they’ve caused…

Right…?

—————————————

Months have passed… at least, you think it’s been months. There’s been more destruction than ever. No cookie is safe. If the dragon spots even the smallest insect, it’s burnt to a crisp. You managed to slip away from the dragon but not without difficulty.

Your leg was injured, you had no food and fatigue was setting in. You could hear sounds of destruction close by, but the dragon had a soft voice… their voice held no anger.

“Y/N Cookie… can you come out..?” The sound of a rock shattering rung out “it’s not safe for you, I’m just trying to keep you safe…”

You put your hand over your mouth, hoping to not catch the dragons attention to your hiding spot. “Please… I can’t lose you too…” Ananas sounded like they were on the verge of tears. But… were they? Was this a ploy to get you to come out? Or was this genuine pain… maybe it was a bit of both…

You felt a breeze rush at you, as you opened your eyes, you saw them. Your jam ran cold as your eyes met their gaze. Their once golden scales had long since purpled and their eyes were cold yet soft for you.

“There you are..!” Ananas Dragon rushed to you and embraced you in a cold yet warm hug. “You could died if I didn’t find you…”

You felt their grip tighten around you. “I swore that nothing would ever happen to you… but here we are… I’m going to make sure you never get hurt ever again.”

“I will destroy anyone who tries to change that.”

[orchideous-nox]

I love your stuff so much!! I was wondering if maybe you had some headcanons for some of the girls?? I'd love to hear them :3

Hi anon, thank you so much! This is so fun, I want to yap about the girls more often so I guess this is a good starting point!!!

Lily

I love Lily so much, since dying my hair ginger one of my favourite comments I get on tiktok is people saying I look like how they picture Lily which is the biggest compliment. I hc Lily as being bi and currently my favourite person to ship her with is Pandora but I have Chappell Roan related plans to write a one-shot of MaryLily. Lily's favourite flowers are daisies and angel's breath and you can find them in her hair during the summer. She loves to read either by the fire when it's cold or under a tree in the park in July. She's an omnivert and enjoys quiet study sessions with Remus where they don't have to talk but also is very happy to be dragged up to do karaoke with Mary and Marlene. Her favourite colour is sage green because it brings out her freckles and her favourite season is spring because she says "the air just smells different". Also plus-size Lily all the way!

Mary

Mary is a girl's girl. She is the one who teaches the younger students how to do their makeup and and is the chief hair braider. She has a diary the whole way through school and she writes all of her juiciest secrets in there because she knows all the gossip about everyone and keeps them all in the bottom of her trunk. Her favourite song would either be Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac or Does Your Mother Know by ABBA. She is the biggest flirt with everybody and the real Casanova of Gryffindor Tower. Her signature lip gloss is cherry scented and everyone is the group has had at least one kiss on the cheek from her which has left a pinky-red lip gloss mark there. If I was going to assign a fc for her it would be Rachel Chinouriri, I think she's so beautiful and the Mary vibes are just there.

Marlene

Marlene being from Manchester is so real for me. She grew up supporting Manchester United and went to the matches with her dad. She is the masc lesbian of my dreams (I saw someone who looked like her once and I might have fell a little bit in love) and they own the wolfcut. Marls can be sighted wearing a little top (baby tee/ tight crop top) and big pants (literally the baggiest jeans you have ever seen). When Chelsea Dagger by The Fratellis comes on, she is singing the loudest. Marlene never came out, everyone just knew they are gay and when they got their first girlfriend everyone just shrugged and was like "cool". Marlene uses she/they pronouns and will punch anyone in the dick if they are mean to her friends. She absolutely adores Dorcas and is like "my girlfriend" at any opportunity. You can catch Marlene dancing along to Seventeen Going Under by Sam Fender because "he just gets me", she she will insist he is the only man she could ever love just to annoy the Marauders boys.

Pandora

My Ravenclaw girliiieeee!! If you couldn't tell, Pandora has really grown on me recently and I am slowly working up to writing a fic where she is in the main ship. Pandora being a Ravenclaw like Luna is so important to me and I hc her as a Rosier and is Evan's twin when I write her, but not the way that people normally write them. Pandora is very adamant that she is her own person and there is more to her than being a twin. She loves her experiments which we know from canon, she would have loved watching How Its Made (the tv show), and was that kid who would take things apart to see how they work. She collects insects like butterflies, moths and beetles and keeps them in a display in her room and has pet stick insects that she loves to freak people out with. Pandora would LOVE Paris Paloma, she's vibing with Labour and Notre Dame and The Fruits. Although I said I love shipping Lily with Pandora, Xenophilius and Pandora (xenodora) have my heart, I love them, they are my favourite straight-presenting queer couple. I think they chose the surname Lovegood when they got married (I hc Xeno as a disowned Malfoy) which I know a few people hc. I could talk about Pandora forever but I will move on.

Dorcas

Last but not least, Dorcas! She's the kind of girl who calls everyone babydoll (Barty loves it). She's such an it-girl and would be the person you see on Instagram posing in front of the houses in Kensington with her iced coffee. Dorcas is taalllll and has legs for days, models should be glad she decided to stick to being the office siren. Her favourite hobbies are judgingly people watching in the window seat of coffee shops, and taming her girlfriend to stop them from trying to fight everyone who looks at the two of them funny. Everyone thinks Dorcas hates them at first (even Marlene who spend months thinking Dorcas was rebuffing her advances), but she just looks at everyone like that, she shows her love by being mean. Dorcas loves to listen to Rina Sawayama, her favourite song is STFU!

I'm just gonna stick with those 5 for now because they're the ones I write in my fics. Thank you for giving me an opportunity to yap about them!!! <3

[mysticstarlightduck]

Personality Through Quotes

Thanks for the tag @kaylinalexanderbooks!!! (here)

MY QUOTE IS: A quote about a weird habit they/someone else has.

YOUR QUOTE IS: A quote about your character's feelings about their world's government

Corah - "Hmm. Sometimes I tend to wake up in the middle of the night to stare at the stars. I don't know why, but it's very calming. I like to count out all the constellation Dad has taught me about and the tales about each one, and then I try to make up new ones until the stories get more and more chaotic and outlandish with each new one and then I go back to sleep."

Arammys - "I would say my weird habit is that, from time to time, I try making up stories in my mind, to replace the memories I don't have, and its come to the point that that habit's more like an intrusive thought rather than anything else and it concerns me. Like, I'll see someone on the street and immediatelly start imagining a whole backstory for how we might've met before and how they're my former best friend turned rival turned acquaintance - and the next thing I know I forgot what I was doing - But I'm normal, right? That's totally normal, right?"

Eidan - "I collect stuff! Genuinely. There's no real pattern to it and I don't really remember why I started. It's not an obsession or anything, just a hobby to distract me from stuff that might upset me. I'll just be walking down the riverbed and be like 'ooh that's a neat shell' and pick it up and add it to The Collection. I'll walk through the market and see a silk ribbon necklace on sale and I'll buy it and guess what, add it to The Collection. Anything that really stands out to me in some way makes it to my collection - but I have to really, really like the thing in order for it to be chosen. My collection of assorted knick knacks is as random as it is carefully curated. (smiles, actually proud of his collection)"

Nimwen - "Oh, neat! Not my weird habit, but my brother's - when he is upset he starts counting in Syllen, which is a local dialect from the city where we were born which nobody - except scholars and really really specific groups of people - really uses anymore. He also worries a lot and used to talk in his sleep - not anything concerning, just gibberish, but enough to wake me up every five minutes until I got used to it."

Rin - "People say I'm weird because I eat bugs and rodents. I don't think that's weird - they don't think it's weird for birds to eat those things, and my species is basically just a humanoid bird (okay, I'm an avian fey to be precise). Insects and rodents are a natural part of my diet, and people are the ones who need to stop being so sensitive to everything I do. Hey, is that a cricket?"

Tomasa - "Oh, my turn, my turn! I like to sing at the top of my lungs while bathing, even if I am admiteddly a bit off key I am having fun. I also like to go to taverns where no one knows anything about me and try to challenge the biggest dude in the place to a drinking contest! The look on their faces when I win is always priceless."

Masen - "Does using the bardic talents I hoped to one day be famous for to steal from my audience because I've had to become a thief instead count as a weird habit? That's not a rhetoric question, does it? I really wanna know, dude!"

Kyran - "I'm not really the kind of person who has 'weird habits', but if you really want to know... some of my inventions aren't exactly that legal, and they do have a tendency to... explode? But only on occasion, and sometimes to my favor, but you didn't hear it from me and you don't have any proof to tell anyone you heard this."

Maryon - "I like climbing to the roof of the towers of the castles - it's a beautiful and breathtaking view. I can see my whole city from there, covered in beautiful snow and blue ice, and the mountains of Tirawen are a small dot on the horizon. Occasionally, I'll see the outline of a dragon flying in the distance! I don't think it's a 'weird' habit, but it is certainly a risky one. I sometimes do this for fun, other times to escape from my duties when I want some peace and quite, haha"

Florynce - "I talk to the trees - and they whisper back at me! So do the flowers and the rocks and the rivers and the birds, and all of the forest! It says my blood runs through it."

Leora - "Don't tell anyone, or my reputation as the fearless underground leader might be at risk. But I still have my childhood plush toy and I can only sleep if I have it on my bed. It brings me comfort in a way little else does."

Elias - "Ooh, I have one hell of a list of weird quirks curated and stored straight from my brothers' childhood - Masen used to sleepwalk, until he one day he hit a wall and woke everyone in the house but not himself, Kyran one time got into an argument with an old lady at the market because they couldn't decide whether or not the scarf a vendor was selling was lilac or purple and turns out it was neither because it was pink, Masen used to cry whenever he heard a sad story involving dogs, Kyran said he hated the sea but turns out he didn't want to admit he was scared of sea monsters - want me to keep going? Because I can."

Tagging (gently, no pressure):@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @inky-duchess @late-to-the-fandom, @eccaiia @willtheweaver @littleladymab @cabbojage @lassiesandiego @little-peril-stories @oh-no-another-idea @thepeculiarbird @rickie-the-storyteller @crowandmoonwriting @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gummybugg @forthesanityofstorytellers @doublegoblin @aalinaaaaaa @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @elshells @clairelsonao3 @anyablackwood @tabswrites @illarian-rambling and OPEN TAG

[feeshies]

Hello, I am a human medicine student from Gaza City. I am asking you for urgent help in publishing the link for my family and delivering it to people interested and able to help us. I did not want to do that, but the tragic situation we are living in is what made me have to do this. I feel sad and helpless, after we had Everything, we are now homeless on the streets, we live in a tent next to a dilapidated public toilet and there is sewage, filth and waste everywhere, we sleep on it! We suffer from terrible heat, insects and scorpions, the danger of death, bombs and missiles, in addition to hunger of course, and the danger of pollution and terrible diseases.Especially digestive, respiratory and reproductive! My younger siblings are suffering and very sick. They are terrified of everything, especially scorpions and insects. My father and mother cannot bear it any longer. You have the right to imagine that when you spend your life building for yourself and your children to live a decent life, all of this goes away in the blink of an eye, and now when you reach the age you should To rest in it, you are forced to start over !!? , but the most important thing now is to try to stay alive and protect your children from all the factors of death that surround us! I ask anyone who has humanity or conscience to feel our situation and put himself in our place. How can a person who has lived with dignity all his life accept this? We are dying slowly every day. Please, if anyone can help, even if just a little, do not delay! Your little means a lot to us!

https://gofund.me/5f12ba33

Hello Raghad. Thank you for taking the time to reach out and share your story with me. Hearing about the horrors you and your family are experiencing breaks my heart, and I would be happy to do what I can to make sure you get the support you need.

This is a verified fundraiser (221st one on this list and verified by nabulsi here as well) currently at £7,099/£55,000. I would highly encourage anyone to donate and/or share if they are able to. I also recommend following this tag by aces-and-angels, who is spotlighting this campaign by sharing a piece of Raghad's beautiful art whenever the fundraiser reaches a milestone (next one being £15K).

[unreadpoppy]

song as old as rhyme - chapter 8

{Beauty and the Beast AU - Raphael x OC (Elize)}

chapter 7

Read on AO3

Taglist: @littlemoondarling @desenhosdebolso

A/N: If anyone wants to be tagged whenever I update, let me know. Also reminder I haven't played the game yet and I rely on youtube playthroughs so don't expect many descriptions about the house.

It had been a week since the contract had been signed. Elize had been given one task: keep the House of Hope clean, which was proving itself to be maddening.

The House was quite large and she had a feeling that everyday the place grew more, just to spite her. Not only that, even if she spent hours upon hours organizing a room or cleaning a particular spot on the floor, the following day, everything would go back to its state of chaos. 

Aside from that, there was the food. Elize didn’t know where it came from or where it was stored but it did not matter. Every time the food smelled bad. When she looked closer, she could see insects near and on it. She would immediately throw it away and somehow, it would be back the next day. The little good food she found, she would quickly eat it. 

But the worst of all was the moaning. 

It didn’t take Elize long to discover the numerous debtors that graced the halls of the House of Hope. They would walk around the place, some mumbling, others screaming, and half the time Elize didn’t understand what they were talking about. 

What mattered, to her, was that the noise they made was unending. Even when she tried to sleep, Elize could still hear some person rambling. It was bad enough that she slept on the floor, considering she wasn’t shown a room to sleep in, and the noise didn’t make things better. 

‘If I have to deal with one more night of this,’ Elize though, as she failed to sleep once again due to the noise ‘I’ll kill Raphael next time I see him.’ 

Speaking of the master, Elize realized how little of him she had seen since that day. She rarely saw him walking around, and when she did see him, Elize would avert her gaze, wishing she could make herself invisible. She had heard how he treated some of his prisoners and thought it was best to stay out of his way. 

Elize closed her eyes once again, this time, trying to focus on anything but the present. She remembered other times, when she was young and her family was whole. She thought of one time, she must have been around 8 or 9 years old, when she woke up earlier than usual, due to a nightmare. 

The sun had yet to rise and Elize had gone to her parents bedroom, crying. She crawled on their bed and told them what happened. Her mother took her hand, reassuring Audifax that she would handle it, and walked out of the house with Elize. They went to the hill and laid on the ground. Mother and daughter watched the stars, and the dark blue sky turn to orange as the sun appeared on the horizon. 

“I’m scared, Mom” Elize said. 

“Of what?” She asked. 

“I’m scared that one day I’ll wake up and you and father won’t be there.” Elize replied, voice shaking slightly. 

“Oh, Elize.” Her mother turned to look at her. “Your father and I are not going anywhere. As long as you live, we’ll live too. In here”. She pointed towards Elize’s heart. She then hugged the girl and kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom.” They smiled at each other. Her mother got up and held out her hand, and they walked back towards home. 

Elize would have stayed in that dream forever if it wasn’t for someone using their foot to move her. 

Still with her eyes closed, she said. “Whoever you are, stop it, I’m trying to sleep.” 

“Sleeping on the job, are we?” Elize immediately recognized that voice as Raphael, which made her jolt awake and stand up, already starting with the apologies. 

“Oh, do not fret little one, I am not Raphael.” They said. Elize looked up and although the person talking looked like a replica of the master, she noticed this one seemed not to have his wrinkles or the stubble. Noticing her confusion, they said. “I am Haarlep, Raphael’s personal incubus, glamored and transfigured to look just like him.”

“Oh.” There was an awkward pause. “I’m Elize” she replied. Elize looked him up and down, noticing the incubus had very little covering, besides a leather harness with strange runes. She blushed, as she had never seen anyone else showing that much skin before. 

Haarlep noticed it and chuckled. “Like what you see?” They smirked. 

“Oh gods, no, I just, I-” She sighed. “Sorry for looking.” 

“Don’t be, I like it.” He waved a hand. “But never mind that. Tell me, has our great master taken the time to show you around?” 

Elize looked down briefly. “No. I’ve just been…figuring things out as I go.”

Haarlep shook their head dramatically. “Tut, tut, tut, that just won’t do.” They walked a bit ahead of Elize, and then offered their arm. “Come, I will show you the place.” 

Her eyes widened. She was afraid that she would get in trouble. “Oh no, you don’t need to do that, really, I’ll be fine.” 

He walked to where she was and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, practically side hugging her. “My dear, do not fret.” They said. “Raphael won’t be here for a long time.” Elize relaxed a bit and the both of them began to walk, the incubus leading the way. “Besides, you are new here and I wish to know everything about you.” 

[d4ldolly]

mys (massive yap session)

blehh does anyone feel rlly confused ab if anyone actually cares ab you?? like I just wanna die but not in a suicidal way. like I just wanna see how people would react.

pros-

if they do miss me I'd be flattered

I wouldn't feel bad about myself anymore bc someone actually cared

n if they did miss me id be happy cuz id know i left a mark on this earth even if only a short while

cons-

well I die

what if they don't miss me

there's sm beautiful and cool things on earth is it rlly worth throwing it all away and starting over just for the small comfort of knowing someone will remember me

i wish there was some way to know. like a lie detector in my brain or something. yk how you sometimes have a very best friend, the kind of people you would die for and tell legit everything to? i wanna know if they feel the same way for me.

I've been in lots of situations where someone I've known 4 short time suddenly becomes attached 2 me, but like I don't want them that way. its endearing 2 know that they do in fact enjoy my presence and choose me over a large group of other people but I feel bad not reciprocating it. im gonna sound so cringy and pickme type like this but wtv. I like a very certain type of person. (not romantically in this situation)

i wouldn't say I've had the... average mind? since 11 I started starving n cutting n getting addicted to gore. I think 12 was when it really hit, I'd be so addicted to the feeling of physical pain seeing the scratches brought me elation. it wasn't even bc I was depressed or anything it was just so fun. i think red and bruises look nice on me. I didn't tell a single soul about this but i implied it n made jokes of it for the slight chance someone would pick up the undertones n maybe try to help me. I think it's embarrassing to have this addiction. why am I like this? why couldn't I just be normal. maybe everybody around me does this too but I'm just and overreacter n their all in a joke I'll never understand.

n as a kid + preteen I was fugly bro. like I still am but damn!!!!! I guess it's sorta ok bc I was like 7 but man. being asian in the us was not a great experience. it wasn't so bad it constantly interfered with my life to the point of breaking me but it did piss me off alot. all i wanted to be was skinny and white girl pretty. (I DO NOT MEAN THIS OR ANYTHING I SAY IN A RACIST WAY AT ALL!!!!!!)

anyways i thought to myself every single day that everything was pretty. most people (around 14 out of 15) never seemed to understand what I meant by that and god was i confused. what do you mean that the yellow-green grass on the lawn with specks of miniscule dots made up of white and blue flowers wasnt pretty? that the details on a single tree in the big big forest weren't worth your attention? the lines and details of a rock, formed by years of going through nature. the way the light ripples and reflects into clear water, always making new colors you'll only see once, and disappearing in a moment as it trickles away down the stream. little moments like those were all I cared for. the thing I spent the most of my time on? people. I love everybody. I love every single part and cell and strand of hair and scar, skin, nail, the little freckles, dots, moles, bones, veins, flesh, imperfections, perfections, god. I could spend eternity and forever just staring. I don't know why I do this, but I never want to stop. people are so interesting. it's funny how we're all different.

sometimes I just laugh. laugh because I live and get to see and feel and smell and taste and hear and love. I think I like being a human. maybe being a dog or royalty would be easier, but I wouldn't trade my current life for anything in the universe.

reflecting on myself is something I do unconsciously, every single moment I get to myself. most of those moments are just embarrassment because I think I'm ugly. do you think insects believe they're ugly? i would spend minutes, days, months, and decades just trying to convince a beetle that he's beautiful. maybe I'm beautiful? I wouldn't know. how would anyone know if I don't know myself?

i think that's my biggest fear. genuinely, factually coming to a conclusion that nobody will ever want me, whether it's because my physical firm or mental ways of just being me. I'd be so sad if i love literally everybody, unconditionally and never bending to a single whim, just to be put to the side without a second thought. hopefully they put me on a little shelf in their mind, so atleast they'll remember me somehow. they better do it gently too, i might break if they don't care for me.

i hope someday, probably long after I'm gone, everybody will find peace. don't know what kind of peace, but just something or somewhere they can rest for a moment. I hope the bees have a safe hibernation. the bears are warm in their cave. the plants are eager to grow after being dormant. that the dung beetle gets a rest and finally achieves rolling it to the top of the hill. that the little brown-white mushrooms growing after a long rain in the forest thrive. that the deer graze happily in a meadow. n most importantly, I hope whoever or whatever read this is happy. your life could be miserable. lets enjoy what have, or what we'll never have while we can. we'll never be here forever, but you can damn as well make it worthwhile.

yolo,

-d4l_

[kandidandi]

Kandi!!! Would you be willing to tell us about what kinda insects/arachnids you've seen that you think are cool? Snakes? Fuzzy Critters?? Venomous or Non-Venomous doesn't matter, you said you like to be out and about in the green parts of Australia, and while I am concerned for your safety I'm even more curious about the Cool Beasts you've seen on your travels!! Have you seen any bright yellow or golden creatures? Green ones? What about the birds that don't swoop? Just!! Tell us about the Cool Animals!! Or cool plants, if you have more about those than Beasties? (Sorry to Explode in ur inbox, I always hear about the Dangerous Animals in Australia because Scary but never hear anyone talk about the Beauties you can go see. And I wanna hear about these walks you seem to enjoy taking!!)

omg omg omg doof im so glad u asked >:D

(i dont take pictures when im out so i'll just use google hahgashg)

i see lots of birds like -cockatoos -kookaburras -galahs -magpies -magpie-larks (also called the peewee lmfao) -crows -butcher birds -noisy miners (native to australia) -indian mynas (not native to australia) -honey eaters (these guys have long tongues) -ibis -rainbow lorikeet -bush turkeys and alot more im probably forgetting about

for marsupials i see -kangaroos -koalas -wallabies -and possums!

now for insects, snakes, etc etc... *cracks knuckles* theres no way i can list them ALL but i'll list most

-LOTS OF ANTS (obviously) -huntsman -red backs -wasps -bees -grasshoppers -cicadas -WORMS -crickets -dragon flies -moths -butterflies -ladybugs -leafhoppers -praying mantis -RHINO BEETLES!!! (I LOVE THESE ONES) -millipedes -slaters -scarabs -snails -cross spiders -stag beetles -stick insects -blue tongued lizards -lots of lizards -termites -cane toads -green tree snake (friend) -brown snake (NOT FRIEND) -geckos

alot of this wildlife looks dangerous (they are but) just leave them alone and you'll be fine (still be cautious but be kind aswell) even snakes, they only bite out of fear or for food, so dont startle them or look yummy hahaffagah

[superman--yoosung]

hi there!! i was hoping i could ask for a mystic messenger matchup please OP :D

- i go by she/her and i’m bi - so i’m open to any of the (adult) characters from the game.

- in my spare time, i like playing my flute/piano. and reading - i really love a lot of classic lit (with fanfic being my guilty pleasure lol) . if i’m not doing either of those things, it’s games (i think i enjoy getting lost in worlds other than my own). i love coffee and would really love to go sightseeing/travelling once i’m out of uni!

- i want to like insects - but i don’t because a lot of them jumpscare me (lol). i also don’t like the taste of cooked mushrooms,, i don’t know why. and i can’t stand untidy or messy places - i’ll tidy for you lol.

- personality wise i’m a little reserved - but i’m cheerful and can be quite the goof when i feel comfortable. i’m always thinking of others and little things i can do for them, or help them in any way possible. i have a strong sense of morality and loyalty towards others. however, i’m stubborn, and honestly somewhat bossy. i don’t know when to give up, which i think is a bit of a double edged sword tbh ^^;;

- for extra info - i’m pretty tall (5’9”) so i feel like a little bit of a giant. my sleep schedule is in shambles, i have a pet cat and my favourite colour is pink 🌸

on a side note - i am so so happy to see the mystic messenger fandom alive and well. and i hope i haven’t written too much for you OP <3

It's funny you mentioned the fandom - I have mostly mysme requests this round! it's definitely still thriving :)

Your matchup is.....................................................

JUMIN HAN !!

"Did you see that new magazine cover? Oh, you know - the one with the C&R heir and his wife? Wasn't it stunning?! Oh, to have someone look at me the way he looks at her..."

When searching for information online about Jumin Han and his recent marriage, comments such as these are rampant. But for good reason - after all, a proposal as sensational as theirs was sure to drive up public interest on the two. Nonetheless, information about Jumin Han's wife, in particular, is rather scarce. But it's evident to anyone who looks that Jumin Han has everything he needs to know about her - and that whatever it is he knows, it's only made him love her more with each passing day.

Fun details:

Your pursuits of the classical arts are noble indeed, and Jumin values your efforts. You'll have access to the finest tutors and lessons the world can offer, should you desire them. If you are already loyal to certain teachers or methods, he will invest in them to ensure your continued learning and growth. He would be delighted if you chose to give a private recital just for the RFA, and very proud of the work you put in to your instruments.

Funny enough, your new beta reader is Jumin. He became curious about what you spent your evenings on in the comfort of the luxurious living room, and when you finally showed him some of your fanfiction, he was unsurprised that your love of reading transferred to writing, too. Still, he admires all of your interests and efforts, and will support you by beta reading your works, bringing his critical eye to your fics. (And if you spend a long time explaining the nuances of the characters and fandoms to him, well, that's just icing on the cake for him, because he gets to hear your beautiful voice and see the sparks of passion in your eyes.)

You get along with Yoosung pretty well. Jumin Han isn't much of a gamer, but at some point he will become intrigued by the two-person (or more) games you play with Yoosung online sometimes. He'll never be as good as either of you at games, but he's good enough to play the cute stereotypical couples games together with - and he'll be quite enthusiastic about doing so with you!

You want to travel the world? He's got the private jet ready to go when you are! During breaks in university, he'll show you around the world, to all the places he's been before, and then to exciting new locations for the two of you to make wonderful new memories together.

He will have the best of the best coffee beans imported for you. If you have a favorite brand or store, he'll get a whole franchise installed in the C&R building just for you. (And the employees, of course, but mostly for you.) If you prefer Jaehee's coffee brewing skills over his, expect him to be pestering her to teach him in exact details in the RFA groupchat (much to Jaehee's eternal annoyance).

No bugs allowed in the penthouse!! If you care about the bugs being kept alive, he will ensure that each bug that does wander inside the building is escorted safely outside the entire perimeter before being set free. Luckily for you, there are two cats on the hunt for any stray bugs, so you likely won't have any trouble with them either way! And speaking of the cats - Elizabeth the 3rd will have a matching collar with yours. Jumin makes sure they're introduced properly so they get along with one another! And they will both be spoiled rotten - don't be surprised if Jumin manages to charm your little baby quickly.

Jumin will be the voice of reason when you've looked out for others to your own detriment, or when you're being overly stubborn. This may lead to a few fights - but as logical as Jumin can be, he's most spineless when it comes to you, so you'll typically get your way, or at least a compromise that's to your liking.

You may worry about your height sometimes, but whenever you put those thoughts to voice, Jumin will remind you that you're the perfect height for him to rest his cheek against your head. (Because this man is taller than everyone.) If you enjoy wearing high heels or platforms, he will adore looking straight-on into your eyes.

Jumin Han was instantly smitten with you when you met in person - and with every day, he learns something new in your mannerisms. They're small things - how you bookmark your page in a story, the shape your hand makes when you reach for one of the cats, which new pink wardrobe item you're favoring. Each and every one of these new details, when he comes across them, never fails to take his breath away, because it is you silhouetted in the lamplight, holding the book he got for your birthday - your hands, which he knows the feel of so well by now - your form, standing in the doorway, face lit up with a smile to greet him. With every new detail, he falls deeper in love with you. And he will always find new details, because to him, you are fathomless, and so is his love for you.

~~I hope you enjoyed this! I did seriously consider Jaehee for you as well - you seem the type to be able to match with multiple members very easily, to be honest!!

PS AHHHHH I THOUGHT I QUEUED THIS UP IM SORRY!! Publishing it a bit late oops--

PPS IM A MESS I FORGOT THE DIVIDERS LOOOOL should be fixed now

[eli-is-reading]

alright, time to try talking about weyward cus i finished it like a we k ago.

SPOILERS ABOUND!!

weyward for anyone who isn't aware is a novel about three generations of witches from the weyward lineage.

altha weyward- a witch on trial in 1619 for the accusation of murdering a man by way of making his cows go insane

violet ayres - the daughter of a viscount, growing up in the midst of the second world war, and her struggle with an abusive father, a younger brother fighting to get their father's affection, and her cousin, a manipulative creepy british army soldier, on temporary leave from libya.

kate ayres - violet's great niece, a young woman who escaped her abusive boyfriend's house in London to her late great aunt's small ancestral cabin in the countryside, named weyward cottage.

these women navigate through their complicated lives in a patriarchal society full of abusive men who try to hurt them as they slowly discover their powers and as we slowly find out about the history of the weyward family along with them.

now, the things I've loved about weyward:

-a LOT

so the word weyward is in reference to the original name for the three witch sisters in macbeth, and the references to their theater origin SHOWS.

the story takes place in and nearby the old town of crow's beck. a lot of the people living there have roots in the town going back to at LEAST the 17th century. that part makes it so that even when we go through different times, we hear the same family names, making a callback to theatrical plays where there is usually a small cast of actors playing multiple characters and joining the chorhses at certain points. it is even mentioned in the book: when kate goes to the village cemetery, she finds the graves have all the same names and thinks of them as a cast of players in a show.

this makes me REALLY want to watch a play based on this book, and i hope as it's getting pretty big online it might actually happen!!

- i loved their concepts of witches and the way they are women from the beginning of humanity with abilities tied to nature and understanding of medicine that help humanity survive. i especially love their connection to insects and the way they even use their connection to animals for sometimes nefarious means that are honestly always pretty well deserved, and creepy in the best sense.

i honestly loved so many things about this book that I can't say everything right now but these two things were some of my faves.

things i would've changed or wish to have seen more of:

- there are motifs of crows all over the book (i mean, the town is literally called crow's beck) and there is even am idea that the family have been raising crows for years and each woman has a specific crow with white specks that is connected to them and follows them around; think familiars - although that name is mentioned as a negative view made by the patriarchy, that's actually also about the name witches and the idea of a "witch's mark" as a symbol of evil.

i really wish they were to talk more about these crows, the idea was super cool and I'd love to have it expanded and the relationship between the weywards and crows to be further examined.

- i honestly have no idea right now of what else I'd change. it was really a great book

final thoughts:

weyward is a lovely book about female empowerment, nature, the problems with the patriarchy, and the way women with strength are treated by a society and men that wish to see themselves at the top of the food chain. it is a book worth reading till the end, because even when it seems everything is painful and bad, it has a fantastic conclusion and a gratifying power take-back for every woman there.

I'm excited to see what emilia hart comes up with next and it is obvious how great of a writer she is, her prose is absolutely beautiful and feels easy to read even when it waxes into poetic.

10 crow feathers out of 10.

[dfroza]

A Love Letter

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 2nd chapter of the letter of 2nd Corinthians:

I finally determined that I would not come to you again for yet another agonizing visit. If my visits create such pain and sorrow for you, who can cheer me up except for those I’ve caused such grief? This is exactly what I was writing to you about earlier so that when we are face-to-face I will not have to wallow in sadness in the presence of friends who should bring me the utmost joy. For I felt sure that my delight would also become your delight. My last letter to you was covered with tears, composed with great difficulty, and frankly, a broken heart. It wasn’t my intention to depress you or cause you pain; rather, I had hoped you would see it for what it was—a demonstration of the overwhelming love I have for all of you.

But if anyone has caused harm, he has not so much harmed me as he has��and I don’t think I’m exaggerating here—harmed all of you. In my view, the majority of you have punished him well enough. So instead of continuing to ostracize him, I encourage you to offer him the grace of forgiveness and the comfort of your acceptance. Otherwise, if he finds no welcome back to the community, I’m afraid he will be overwhelmed with extreme sorrow and lose all hope. So I urge you to demonstrate your love for him once again. I wrote these things to you with a clear purpose in mind: to test whether you are willing to live and abide by all my counsel. If you forgive anyone, I forgive that one as well. Have no doubt, anything that I have forgiven—when I do forgive—is done ultimately for you in the presence of the Anointed One. It’s my duty to make sure that Satan does not win even a small victory over us, for we don’t want to be naïve and then fall prey to his schemes.

When I arrived at Troas, bringing the good news of the Anointed, the Lord opened a door there for me. Yet my spirit was restless because I could not find my brother Titus. Eventually I told them good-bye and set out for Macedonia.

Yet I am so thankful to God, who always marches us to victory under the banner of the Anointed One; and through us He spreads the beautiful fragrance of His knowledge to every corner of the earth. In a turbulent world where people are either dying or being rescued, we are the sweet smell of the Anointed to God our Father. To those who are dying, they smell the stench of death in us. And to those being rescued, we are the unmistakable scent of life. Who is worthy of this calling? For we are nothing like the others who sell the word of God like a commodity. Do not be mistaken; our words come from God with the utmost sincerity, always spoken through the Anointed in the presence of God.

The Letter of 2nd Corinthians, Chapter 2 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Interpersonal relationships are often filled with disagreements and tensions. It’s common to hear someone long for the “good old days” of the New Testament when things were simpler and people were holier. But Paul’s ministry proves the first-century churches were no different. They were just as full of fights, tensions, and power plays as modern churches are. We should seek to be loving but also firm when the situation demands it. We should be quick to offer forgiveness to and seek reconciliation with those who turn back from their divisive actions. That’s what Paul did.

Today’s paired reading from the First Testament is the 5th chapter of the book of Leviticus:

Eternal One: When anyone sins by hearing a public call to testify about a matter he has seen or knows something about, yet he does not speak up, then he is considered guilty and must be punished. If anyone has physical contact with some impure thing such as the carcass of a ritually unclean wild animal, domestic animal, or even an insect—even if he is unaware of the incident—he has become ritually unclean and must accept the consequences. If anyone has physical contact with some kind of human impurity, regardless of the form of impurity it is—even if he was unaware of it at the time—once he realizes it, he must accept the consequences. If anyone speaks a careless vow to do something bad or something good or any careless vow for that matter—even if he was unaware of it at the time—once he realizes what he has done, he must accept the consequences. Regarding any of these situations, when the guilty party realizes the offense, he must confess it. He must present to Me an offering for his guilt as a remedy for the sin he has committed. This purification offering for sin must be a female lamb or goat from the flock. The priest will make atonement for the guilty person’s sin.

Eternal One: But if the guilty person is poor and cannot afford to offer a lamb, then he must bring to Me two turtledoves or two pigeons as a purification offering for sin. One of these will act as the purification offering and the other will be a burnt offering. The guilty person must take them to the priest, and the priest will offer the purification offering for sin first. He will wring the bird’s neck but not separate its head from its body. He will sprinkle some of its blood on the side of the altar and drain the remaining blood out at the base of the altar. This will be the ritual for the purification offering for sin. Then the priest will conduct the ritual for the second sacrifice, the burnt offering, in accordance with the regulations. The priest is to make atonement to cover the sin of the guilty, and the guilty will be forgiven.

If a person cannot afford to offer two turtledoves or two young pigeons, he must offer four pints of his finest flour as the purification offering for sin. He should not mix it with oil or frankincense because it is an offering for the purification of sin. He will give it to the priest, and the priest will take a handful of the flour as a memorial portion and offer it up as smoke along with the other fire-offerings presented to Me. The flour is a purification offering for sin. This is how the priest will make atonement to cover the sin of anyone guilty of these things, and the guilty will be forgiven. The leftover flour belongs to the priest as in the grain offering.

The Eternal One then told Moses about the guilt offering.

Eternal One: If anyone violates his covenant duties and unwittingly commits a sin against any of My sacred objects, then that person must bring Me an unblemished ram from the flock or its value in silver (according to the sanctuary standards) for a guilt offering.

The guilty person must offer restitution for the wrong he has committed against the sacred thing, add ⅕ of its value, and then give it to the priest. The priest will then make atonement for him by offering the ram to cover his guilt; and the guilty will be forgiven.

If anyone commits a sin by violating the directives I have given you—even if he was unaware of it—once he realizes it, he bears the guilt and must still accept the consequences. He must bring to the priest an unblemished ram from the flock or its equivalent value as a guilt offering. The priest will then make atonement to cover the guilty person’s wrong, which he unwittingly committed, and the guilty will be forgiven. This is a guilt offering because the person was guilty in My eyes.

The Book of Leviticus, Chapter 5 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

These are some cases where a purification offering for sin is required. It is important to note that sacrifice is not some magical cure for sin or its consequences. Before you come to God through the sacrifice, you must realize the error of your ways and confess it. Confession has always been act one of restoration.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Wednesday, june 5 of 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New Covenant) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about Numbers:

The sages named the fourth book of the Torah "Bamidbar," meaning "in the desert," because the word occurs in its opening verse, and also because it aptly describes the Israelites' forty years of wanderings in the desert of Sinai after the great Exodus. Because God commanded a census of people to be taken several times in the book, however, the midrash calls it "Sefer Ha’pikudim" (ספר הפקדים), or the "Book of Countings," from which the English translation "the Book of Numbers" is derived. Interestingly, the Hebrew word for desert (i.e., midbar: מִדְבַּר), originally meant "from where the cattle are driven," that is, an area of pasturage that was uninhabited and fit for animal grazing. The Hebrew root "davar" (דבר) means "word" but also means "shepherd," evoking the call and direction of one who would guide his flock.

The book begins: "The Lord spoke (דבר) to Moses in the desert of Sinai, in the Tent of Meeting" (Num. 1:1). Now recall that during their wandering in the desert God's presence was symbolized by the Mishkan, or "Tabernacle," a central tent-like structure that had a secret inner chamber called the Holy of Holies, and within that hidden chamber was a sacred chest called the Ark of the Covenant (ארון הברית) that held the tablets of the Ten Commandments (עשרת הדברים). Upon the cover of the Ark, called the kapporet, were two cherubim (angelic figures), and it was there that God's audible word was spoken (see Exod. 25:22).

In light of this, among other things we can understand the book of Bamidbar to recount God's shepherding words given to the people as they wandered through desert places in search of the fulfillment of God's promise for their lives. The excursion into the desert is part of the journey of faith. God leads us by way of the desert - through struggle and waste places - to discipline our hearts to look for the greater hope of Zion.

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Psalm 23:1-3 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm23-1-3a-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm23-1-3a-lesson.pdf

6.4.24 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel365

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

[wingboundwarrior]

@sereneshymn

The island that had begun as a strange and unusual place stood to only grow stranger and more unusual. Despite the memories of Florina’s ease and combing the beach for shells with her temporary roommates, a heavy discomfort sits beneath Fiora’s sternum. Her eyebrows remain furled, face serious and stalwart. The weight in her chest stands to drown her.

She knows she mustn’t let it, but... when she reads the wooden sign directing her to stand on a stone platform, and then blinks, only to find herself somewhere else, entirely...

Well — how do you not choke with the weight of apprehension?

For a moment, she is utterly disoriented — different land beneath her feet, different sky above her. But someone who often soars through the sky can find their bearings better than most might, so after a few moments, she finds the ground beneath her feet solid again, even if her heart remains desperate attempt in its attempt to rend itself free from her ribcage.

It doesn’t take her long to notice the other person with her.

“Are you alright?” Standing before her is someone only a few years her senior, long, golden hair, soft, gentle face, and... wings. She’s ... never seen anyone with wings before, so short her time at Fódlan has been. Her face, though, does not betray that surprise. In fact — she has to remember to work her expression more gentle, rather than the mixture of apprehension she had been wearing in private.

Perhaps this stranger is also used to being in the sky, and can find his bearings well enough, too.

For some reason, being with him has her feeling more... at ease than before. Strange, that she’d feel at ease around someone else, with her experience...

After his response to her concern, she goes on. “I see you’re also on my ‘team’... good. I believe that means we’re meant to work together.”

Her face does soften now. Something serene, and gentle, and a little distant, in a way. She offers a gauntleted hand by way of introduction, hoping that this isn’t an offensive action, wherever it is he comes from.

“My name is Fiora... I am a pegasus knight. I am with the Knights of Seiros.”

After pleasantries are exchanged, she turns her attention to the forest. She sees no immediate dangers around her — just an oppressive field of trees everywhere, and uneven flooring, flooring that would surely injure Huxley’s hooves if he were here.

Still, being without him is...

No. She must keep her wits about her. Focus on your surroundings. Look for water. We don’t know how long we will be in here. She closes her eyes...

Perception Check 1d20 -> 19!

She can hear the forest alive with creatures. Insects, birds, and unidentified other creatures alike call, sing, and scramble throughout the forest. But through all the din, she can just make out the sound of water trickling... in a westward direction.

“I hear water to the west of us... It may be best for us to follow a river, so we do not get lost in here.”

She’s not sure if she trusts the ‘event organizers’ to come find them, in truth...

With Rafiel’s consent, Fiora moves her way to the west.

1d100 -> 77!

Fiora hears something else in the same direction. There, emanating from... somewhere or other... Fiora hears... a song. It’s a beautiful, if somewhat mournful, noise. It makes her think of... being soothed. Of being held. A time she cannot quite remember herself, in fact, but hearing this song, and feeling this visceral feeling, she knows... at some point, it must have happened.

Wildness/Wary Rolls 2d2 -> 1, 1

Filling Our Emblemdex

Team Sheep, Team Four Creature Campaign

[pyreofsunflowers]

How to make the Sims 3 look its best in 2022

so simming is a long time pastime of mine, and I've - in my humble opinion - perfected the look of the game without turning it into a yassed out modeling agency. (if you've ever looked for cc you know what I'm talking about) so in this first of probably many posts - here is a complete list of all my graphics mods!

Firstly, though, I should note that I have a very strong pc with a very strong graphics card. Please please please don't overload your computer, and explore options that will work best with your specs. What looks best for me might not look best for you.

Ahem, with that out of the way let's start with my default graphic settings.

This keeps my game looking beautiful while running smoothly (hence the low reflection and edge smoothing)

Now let's get into the mods!

Lighting and Environment

Burnt Waffles' Moonrise Kingdom Lighting - Self explanatory, textures for the skybox, weather overlays, and general lighting. Make sure you pick the water that matches your world!

Simsi45's Reworked and Improved EA Lights - tones down the brightness of some lights, fixes directional lighting for covered lamps, light colors made more consistent, and other such fixes.

dDefinder's Outdoor Lighting Tweaks - removes that nasty blue hue at nighttime, adds more dynamic shadows, adds new weather types and can make nighttime darker!

Neim's Sims Blog's Default replacements for Garden Bushes and Orchard Trees - Replaces the textures for plants like tomato vines, apple trees, and onion plants - creating a much more lush looking garden.

Aminovas' Plant Retextures - softens the bright, garish colors of EA plants to be more appealing. In two parts, and available as non-defaults.

CAS + Create-a-Pet

Kurasoberina's Primer Skin + Buhudain's You are Real - my skin mod and a default replacement pack with upped realism. The skin was designed to be used with You are Real, just a heads up.

I don't use any nudey mods out of personal preference - but I hear good things about Cmar's and Geck.o's work. Here is a link to a bunch of nsfw sims stuff, if that's what your into. I also don't really use sliders outside of the hat slider, a glasses slider and a height and posture slider. this is again out of personal presence, as I am generally making an entire neighborhood's worth of sims at a time and don't have the energy to be nitpicky with sliders on every single sim. That being said, OneEuroMutt complied a really nice list of CAS sliders AND a list of animal sliders if your interested in that.

Bloom's Sexy Feet and Cyo's Cute feet for children - realistic foot retexture, the op is long gone so this is a forum post. May not work unless sim detail is set to high!

Shady's Loney Eyes - subtle eye retextures available as both a contact and a default replacement. I'm currently not using any eyelash retextures - mostly because I haven't found any that work. If anyone has suggestions, let me know!

MaryJane's, Firefox's, AND Agnelid's Hair Replacements - replaces defualt hair with much better looking CC from other creator's - I mix and match between the three. Note that these are far from complete, and I still work with pleanty of EA hair.

I like teh Sims CAS overhaul - less shine, and hides rather than deletes mostly unused items (i always have this weird paranoia that deleting them form CAS will delete them in gameplay...)

One Euro Mutt's Less Shoe Shine - self explanatory, fixes that weird shine that's on so many default shoes.

Simple Life's Lipstick, Blush, Eyeliner, Beards, Eyebrows, and Age Details - Simple Life is my go- to for facial updates, do note however the textures may look funky if your sim detail isn't set to high. (They don't have individual pages for each item, so you'll have to scroll - my apologies)

Ketheira's Freckles and Moles - self explanatory, more realistic face marks.

Eternal 2nd Kira's Insect Wing Replacements for Fairies - replaces the EA textures with high-def insect wings, I just think it looks neat mostly.

Brinwood's HD Dog Coats and Eyes - Also includes more colorable options for dog coats, such as inner ears and individual paws.

Lazy Duchess' cat and dog addons - adds whiskers, primarily, but also edits some face textures and adds more facial markings

Kale and Traelia's HD cat skin and eyes - better meshes for cats.

Dimitri Dane's and Elin Fredriksdotter's EQHD - a FULL retexture and remodel of EA horses with better textures of coats and eyes, and optional stallion junk if that's what your into (I'm not... lol). you will have to download custom saddles, bridles, tack, and poses as EA meshes will be incompatible - but I will probably make a separate post with all my horse CC... lol.

Misc. Textures

Pretty obviously, I use the No Build Sparkles and No Intro mod that everyone gets when they set up there CC folder for the first time. These little details make a big difference!

JustMiha's Clean UI reskin, which is currently still in development (hence the default graphic menu... lol)

Velocity Grass's remove stencil tool to remove any unwanted stencils from cabinets, beds, or toyboxes.

Simsi45's Tileable Items Fix - you know how you go to place a row of bookshelves and there's the lighting gets all messed up on a few of them? yeah this mod fixes that.

Jane Sambroski's Wood Grain re-textures - fixes a lot of the EA woods to have much nicer looking grains, and fixed an issue that caused the grain to become pixelated when zooming.

Plastic Box's Doorway Lighting Fix - fixes lots of the broken lighting with doors and archways, so now all glass doors will cast light through them and all arches of similar size will cast the same amount of light through them

Aminovas' Cow Textures - retextures the cow in the Milkin' It Corral store item to be more realistic. That's it.

And that's it! Yes, I know it's a lot, but I like my game GOREGOUS.

[lya-dustin]

Someone will remember us

Chapter 12

Cw: refrenced sexual assault, underage drinking, violence

Gif by @athousandtales

Taglist: @arrthurpendragon

It is said that while Princess Aemma never came to like her stepfather, Prince Daemon felt a fatherly sort of pride for her.

All agree that he treated her the same he treated his twin daughters.

Mushroom claims the Rogue Prince would often ask his lady wife why Aemma disliked him so.

Mushroom also relates an anecdote that had the prince laughing loudly and toasting to the girl he had then said the following, “Queen Alysanne would have accomplished more if she had been allowed to use violence.”

Septon Eustace confirms such thing did take place and reminds us all that the Faith nor the Iron Throne had yet to call the rape of a wife by her husband a crime.

In fact, the High Septon and the Most Devout at Starry Sept were quick to defend Ser Otto and his daughter for having ordered Aegon the elder to commit such heinous crime against his sister, the Princess Helaena.

----

The wedding was fine, a bit dark, but a fine way to spend the evening.

Helaena is beautiful in white. Her gown is embroidered with her family’s sigils and very clever insect motifs.

Dreamfyre, Sunfyre, Vhagar and little Tessarion fly over the Hightower on the front panel of her dress.

Aemma wonders how many moons did it take for the seamstresses to embroider a spider web that covers the entire dress.

Alicent tries to calm the bride who cries not for joy, but out of anguish at her own wedding banquet.

Would it had been so awful if they had just let Helaena remain unwed for the rest of her life?

Did they not see she had never wanted it?

“It would gladden my heart if you and my daughter would agree to betroth Aemma to Aemond.” Grandfather tries to distract his wife who is not happy about the bride’s tears and the groom’s longing looks at his cousin’s wife, Lady Sam Tarly.

“They will not suit, husband, you may try all you wish, but Aemond will not marry Aemma.” The queen pursed her lips in irritation.

As much as she would like to be a bride someday, Aemma has too much to do before she resigns herself to marry a man. Perhaps she might fall in love with a perfectly suitable man, but there is still three more years left for that.

“I am sure Prince Aemond will make a fine prince consort, but they are too young and my late nephew was disgusted by the notion of anyone marrying below their majority. If he is worthy of our Princess he will wait until she is six and ten to court her properly.” Vaemond looks at the Queen and her father as he speaks.

“I will strive to be so, my lord.” Aemond says to his mother’s horror.

----

The party is great and Aemma dances with whoever Teora and the King ask her to dance with.

She dances her first dance with Aemond, her next with Lord Beesbury’s grandson, the next with Daeron Targaryen and then with her Velaryon cousins.

Then there is the Maiden’s dance where Aemma dances with Helaena who forgets her worries as they dance her last dance as a girl.

Only unwed girls dance it, it is a last goodbye to the bride’s girlhood or so the tradition states.

After this is the bedding ceremony and Aemma can see Helaena’s hands shake as she drinks sweet wine Alicent says will calm her nerves.

Aegon is too drunk as he joins the young men in their revels just as the musicians begin the song that is played at all the beddings.

“Tonight, I make sons for House Targaryen, my friends. A shame they will be minor princes, but they will be trueborn sons, of that I can assure you.” He proclaims and his sycophants cheer.

Helaena turns ashen.

Aemma vows she will kill him tomorrow morning if he hurts her.

----

They are to break their fast as a family as it is tradition.

But Helaena refuses to come out of her new chambers. Aemma can hear her sobbing from the other side of the door and its when she sees the Queen’s ladies display the bloody sheets, the Princess knows what has occurred.

Aemma stalks over to a hungover Aegon and pummels him.

“I hate you; I hate you, I hate you!” She scratches Aegon’s face and flails as Cole pulls her off him. “I hope you die a thousand deaths, you son of a –"

He will have bruises and scratches on his face, and yet he will not have suffered like Helaena did.

“Are you hurt?” the queen coddles her misbegotten son and Criston Cole of all people try to talk her out of murdering Aegon with her bare hands.

“Not as hurt as your own daughter is!” Aemma answers and lunged at Aegon again.

“I had to; do you know what they would have said if I hadn’t done my duty?” Aegon holds the handkerchief to were Aemma’s nails drew blood.

They.

The Queen and her father.

They had ordered Aegon to rape his sister last night.

They are the true monsters.

“They are your blood; they are your own children.” She shouts at the queen. “Are you so black hearted that you do not even care for their well-being?”

Aemma seethed and didn’t even care that the Head Smasher had tightened his grip.

It will leave bruises, but Aemma will wear them with honor.

“Is that it, your grace? You wanted your son to feel forced to rape his own sister because you and your father ordered it?”

The hall is silent.

The Queen cannot seem to make any noise come from her lips. The Lord Hand is stone faced and angry at being chastened by a child and the King sighs with resignation.

He had been against it, but his hand and his bitch of a wife had overruled him with lies.

“What is done is done. There is no going back now.”

-----

Court gossip is afire with Aemma’s outburst.

“She lacks discipline.” Cole says as he escorts her to the Sept.

“She is three and ten and did not cope well with the murder of her father. Point me towards a child her age who does not have such outbursts.” Teora defends her charge.

“I heard the princess refused to believe he was dead, spouted some nonsense about him being alive.”

The Greens do not need to look far to find something to support their gossip about Aemma’s state of mind.

“She was a child of ten, Ser Criston. What child does not wish for their father to be alive instead of facing a reality where their father is gone?” the septa asks him knowing well that he too has lost so many to the Stranger.

Aemma had given him a lock of hair and the first ribbon she had embroidered with the more complicated stitches.

Laenor’s body did not have them, nor a specific mole he had on is right hand.

Perhaps the girl’s theory was correct, but the only way to prove it was by capturing the ever-elusive Qarl Correy.

“They will not be kind to her.” The knight says and forgets to include himself in that sentence.

“No, at least the people not worth their salt won’t. But you yourself have heard, for every person who speaks against her, ten speak for her.

I would advise you something, as a friend, Cole. Sleep with one eye open, House Velaryon has not forgiven you for Ser Joffrey’s death nor will they forgive you for the bruises you left on her.” The Velaryon bastard warned as they stopped in front of the Warrior.

[sinner-as-saint]

The Unseen.

Hades!Bucky x Reader AU

Run-through: Your father is forcing a profitable marriage proposal upon you. Unwilling to endure such a thing, you run away from home and deep into some unknown woods. Naturally, your father sends his people to find you and bring you home, but this causes you to run deeper into the woods to a point where it feels like you’re not even in the same world anymore. Though fatigued; mentally, emotionally and physically, you manage to find shelter. You stumble upon a mysterious, handsome stranger. The God of the Underworld is baffled upon seeing you because it has been millennia since a mortal entered his dark, forlorn kingdom. And it’s been even longer since he felt something for someone… 

Themes: hades!bucky, fluff, angst, smut, 

You staggered through the woods. 

Holding on to whatever you could find to help you keep your balance, and not fall flat on your face. You had been on the run for days now; running from your tyrant father and his people, running from a marriage proposal which was being forced upon you, running from the only place you called home. You wondered, was it really home? 

You were currently deep into the woods. Famished, dehydrated, sleep deprived, your body covered in small cuts, bruises, insect bites and scratches. Your clothes were soiled. You could barely hold yourself up, but you had to get as far away as possible. 

This part of the woods was so dense that the sunlight barely got through. There was more fog around you than sunlight. Actually, you could no longer tell what time it was. Perhaps it was not daytime. 

Your throat burned, your tears had dried, your stomach rumbled in hunger; you were miserable. Your heart hurt at the thought of your mother; you had to leave her behind as well. You missed her, terribly. 

You walked on, and a while later you felt the ground beneath your feet get more soft and damp. Your senses were alert. There must be a water body close by, you thought. You rushed forward, and let out a raspy sigh of relief when you saw the cool, slow-moving river which snaked around the large trees. You could just tell by the sight of it that it’s water must be ice cold. The thick fog condensed and danced above it. It looked mystical. Too good to be true. 

You rushed to the river, kneeling by the side of it and picking up handfuls of water and drinking to satiate your thirst. You cleaned yourself as best you could - getting rid of all the dirt and muck from your face, and limbs and clothes. 

You felt at ease for the first time in the past days. You got up and sat back down at the river bank for a while, feeling light and almost comfortable even though you were all alone inside a dense and cold, and dark forest. You chuckled at how much safer you felt here compared to back at your father’s house. 

A minute later, you tensed up when you heard distant animal sounds. You panicked and took off running; deeper into the woods. You found yourself running alongside the river. You didn’t have a plan, you didn’t know where you were headed, but you knew you had to keep going. You couldn’t have your father finding you again and dragging you back home to marry whoever he chose for you just so he could profit off of it and expand his businesses; you refused to be a pawn in his games

You ran, stumbled, fell and stood up again. For hours. And just when you felt like you were about to pass out from fatigue again, you noticed a gate in front of you. It looked rusty and old, with dead vine all over it, surrounded in fog. You couldn’t see past it but something told you that once you’d get past it, everything would be alright. 

So you did. You pushed open the gate and stepped into what seemed to be a poorly kept, dying garden. Though disorganized, and unkept; it felt almost familiar. It felt like coming home. You looked further and saw what seemed like an abandoned, dark manor, almost as grand as a castle. The whole thing looked like an old, forgotten private property. 

“Help…” you called out with the little energy you had left. You doubted anyone lived here, but you called out anyways, just in case. “Help!” you called out again, falling to your knees on the rough ground. 

And right before passing out, you heard something getting closer and closer. It sounded like it was galloping… several of them. Horses? In here? 

Your eyes rolled back as you could no longer hold yourself up. You saw something approach you. Your blurry vision picked up on a tall, dark figure approaching. Whatever that was, it caught you right before your body fell to the ground. 

It was a man. Even in your insensible state, you could feel the dominant, strong, virile aura surrounding him. 

His low voice was the last thing you heard before you gave in to the darkness, “...I’ve got you, my love. You’re home now...” 

---

The god stood at the entry of the spacious bedroom, in the middle of which was a large bed, upon which you laid; comfortable, but still unconscious. 

Hands stuffed in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe, he contemplated. Everything. He doesn’t remember the last time he had something so beautiful, and alive, inside the walls of his dark and dangerous kingdom. 

He wondered where you come from. Who were you running from? Why did you cry for help? How did you find the Underworld? The moment he saw you first entering his kingdom, he thought that you might be a lost, wandering soul. But then when his hands touched you, he felt your warmth and realized that you were very much alive. 

If you had made it through the entire woods to get here then you must be stronger and more courageous than you look, he thought. 

He stepped closer so he could hear your soft breaths. So full of life… he thought. Whatever it was that you were running from, he made a decision to protect you from it. He felt the urge to wrap his arms around you and shelter you, keep you safe forever. Why so? He didn’t know. He had never been so attached to mortals before. He barely even met any of them. 

But you… you walked right into his kingdom, and now you were making him feel things he had never felt before. 

The god had always been alone. He never quite had company, and he stayed as far away as possible from his dysfunctional family. So having you here was new, but also something he didn’t know he needed so badly. 

“Who are you, pretty human?” he whispered as he lovingly caressed your cheek while you slept. He had healed all your cuts and bruises the moment he picked you up in his arms, and placed you in his chariot. Now he was just waiting for you to wake up so he could talk to you. 

He couldn’t wait to meet you. 

---

You woke up to loud, warm puffs of air fanning your face. You peeled your eyes open, expecting a headache but there wasn’t one, what you did find though was a fairly large, mean and dangerous looking three-headed dog with shiny black fur standing beside you, on the bed, looking down at you with tongues hanging out of each of its mouths and wagging its tail so hard that its body moved side to side along with it in excitement.  

Your eyes widened even in the slightly hazy headspace, you almost took off running again but your body refused to get up from the comfy bed and then you saw the playful look in all three pairs of eyes and you immediately calmed down. 

“Hello there...” You whispered as you squinted and reached out to pet it. You gave it soft scratches behind the ears and under the chins and it immediately tackled you with wet kisses. You squealed and chuckled as you sat up, trying to escape the adorable monster. 

Maybe you had died? You thought to yourself as you kept petting the dog once it calmed down. Perhaps you were in some sort of after life, hallucinating about a three-headed while wearing a very vintage-y black gown with long, puffy sleeves; and sat in the middle of the softest bed ever inside what seemed to be a chamber fit for a Queen. 

“Am I dead?” You asked the three-headed animal. It didn’t answer, obviously so you tried to dig your memory to find something which would explain how you ended up where you are right now. All three heads laid on your lap, as you lazily pet them while thinking; you remembered running… deep, deep into the forest… you remember being tired, so tired you felt like you were about to pass out… wait you did pass out! In the garden. The dark garden, with the horses and the tall man. 

You gasped as you heard a voice, not far from you, answering your previously asked question. “No you’re not. Surprisingly.” 

Upon hearing the voice, the dog got up from the bed and immediately ran to the man who had just spoken. You got up from the bed too confused and nervous, standing and watching him cautiously as you took in the man’s appearance. Your heart raced the more he stared into your eyes with his deep, stormy ocean blue ones. 

He could easily be classified as one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. Tall, dark and dangerous; dark hair, dark suit, dark shoes, dark rings on his fingers. He looked like dominance and power personified. A rugged, intimidating alpha male with sophisticated charm. Icy eyes with a fiery look in them. 

He looked like a god. 

When you finally got over the beautiful man, you realized what he had just said. “What do you mean, surprisingly?” you were aware that this was the same man who had answered to your cry for help earlier so you were trying your best to be polite. 

The sound of your voice made his cold, frozen heart race. “You’re not dead. Just in the realm of it.” He spoke, confusing you even more. “You’re in the Underworld. My Kingdom.” 

You frowned, thinking hard on what he had just said. Wait a minute… you looked down and saw the three-headed dog sitting obediently at his feet, very much well-behaved. You looked back up at the handsome stranger and stuttered while getting your words out. “You can’t… you can’t be real.” This wasn’t a dream? 

He flashed you a lovely smile. “Really? Why not?” 

You looked around, panicking again. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. “Because you’re a myth. You… you don’t exist. You’re not supposed to.” 

He almost chuckled. “And yet, here I am. Forgotten by most mortals, yes. But still very much real.” He took small steps forward as he spoke. You found his voice to be calming, soothing.

“Hades?” you couldn’t believe it. You had heard stories about him at school, read about him in books but never in a million years would you have even for a moment considered that he could be real. 

“The one and only.” He answered, looking down at his feet to find his beloved dog looking up at him. “You’ve met Cerberus already.” 

Hades. God of the Underworld. That sitting at his feet was the Guardian, the ultimate Hellhound. How can this be real life? Anyone else would’ve freaked out upon finding all this out, but you remained surprisingly calm. “You look… I mean, aren’t you supposed to be… you know-,”

He finished your sentence with an amused look on his face. “Bearded? Crowned? Carrying a pitchfork? Riding in a chariot?” 

You nodded. 

“Well, you mortals aren’t the only ones who evolve every now and then. Us gods, although more or less forgotten, have to keep up as well, don’t we?” 

You smiled faintly but it disappeared as quickly as it came. 

You were still a little anxious, and you fidgeted with your fingers. He noticed and walked up to you. Without a word said, he reached out and gently held both your hands in his large ones. He spoke up again, “I know you’re a little nervous. I expect you to be, given the circumstances but I assure you, you’re safe here.” He said, softly. 

You looked deep into his icy, sharp eyes which despite their intensity managed to provide you with a sense of comfort; effortlessly. Who would’ve known that the God of the Underworld could be so gentle? 

“Thank you for helping me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it alright given he was so close to you. He squeezed your hands a little, as if to say ‘You’re welcome.’ Your hands fit in his perfectly, you noticed. He stood just a feet away from you and you could feel the power radiating off of him. 

He smiled gently. “If I may ask, how did you end up so deep into the woods that you stumbled upon my Kingdom? What are you running from?” He wanted to figure this out since the moment he saw you. 

“My father.” 

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why is that?” 

“He wanted to marry me off to a business associate's son so he can profit off the alliance and expand his own businesses. I refused, repeatedly. But then I found out that he was planning to forcefully fly me out somewhere, to marry the same guy. So I took off. I ran from home, and didn't tell anyone where I was going.” You exhaled shakily. “And now I’m here.” 

He nodded, slowly and calmly as he hid his utter disgust at the mention of you almost becoming someone else’s wife. 

He noticed how you started tearing up while speaking of your cruel father, so he simply pulled you closer and tucked your head under his chin while running a soothing hand down your back. His arms wrapped around you in a safe embrace. You felt the cool material of his suit against your flushed face as he held you close. He smelt amazing. You wrapped your own arms around him, feeling his taut body beneath the material of his suit. 

You hadn’t been hugged in a long time, so you started tearing up even more, until you began letting out little sobs. He tightened his grip around you, pressing you against his muscular torso. “Shh, my angel. It’s alright. I’m here now. You’re safe.” 

You held back a sob, your voice cracking as you spoke, “But if… if he finds me, he will…” 

The god pulled away a little, his hand reaching up to gently cup your face and tilt it back so he could look into your teary eyes. “He won’t find you here. I will keep you safe, don’t worry.” He wiped the fresh tears which escaped your eyes. 

You were once again lost in his eyes, just now noticing the flares of grey in them. You were both caught in the moment, when you heard a low whine. It was the adorable monster who had managed to get in between your bodies. You looked down and cracked a little smile. 

“Of course, Cerberus will keep you safe too.” 

---

You and the god had quite a long conversation leading up to dinner. A conversation often interrupted by a certain three-headed dog’s constant need for attention from either one of you. 

You learnt a lot about the one whose Kingdom you were in. You found out that he’s been here forever. Despite being dark, cold and barren you could tell he loved his realm more than anything. 

You had to ask him about Persephone and he had you surprised when he told you that unfortunately their relationship didn’t last long and that she left him for good shortly after they got married. 

You also found out that those closest to him call him ‘Bucky.’ And that his one true friend has always been the hell-hound and guardian of the Underworld, who also was currently asleep at your feet. 

“Doesn’t it get lonely?” you asked, watching him from across the grand dinner table. 

He took a sip of his wine, never breaking eye contact with you. “Not anymore.” he answered and you melted. 

Over dinner, you spoke some more. Then he noticed you got all quiet. Damn it, he cursed. This was the moment he had been dreading all day. 

“You miss your home.” He wasn’t asking, simply stating. He noticed how you pushed your food around on your plate. You weren’t as curious to know about his kingdom anymore, you weren’t chatty; just quiet all of a sudden. He missed the sound of your voice. 

Home… “Not home, no. Just my mother. Sometimes I feel like she’s the only parent who’s ever truly loved me.” 

He could feel the pain in your voice. But some of the rules of the Underworld were such that even he couldn’t bend them. “You know I cannot let you leave.” 

You had that bit figured out the moment you found out who he was. “I know.” 

He was surprised by how calm you were. “You… don’t ardently wish to go back home?” 

You looked up from your plate and at his handsome face. “Going home would mean that I’d have to face my father. Now that I’ve been gone for so long, upon seeing me he’d either obliterate me or drag me down the aisle and marry me off against my will. I prefer none of those things. As for my mom, I do miss her but she’ll survive. She’s a strong woman.” 

The god listened, leaning back in his seat; very much at ease in your company. “And what about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“What do you want?” 

You cracked a little smile. Or perhaps it was a smirk. You mimicked his body language, leaning back in your seat as well. You twirled the wine around in your glass. “For now, I want to be away from my family. I feel safe here. I don’t want to leave.” 

He found himself wanting that as well. 

---

You woke up the next morning to a sight which made you chuckle. No, it wasn’t an overly excited Cerberus. It was breakfast, along with a generous serving of pomegranates. 

You ate it all up. Then set out to find the god after you got dressed and ready for the day. Somehow, everything one could need could be found in the large closets found in the room you slept in. You had only been here for a little while but you settled in just right. 

You walked along a shadowy corridor. Bucky had given you a tour yesterday, hence you knew that this path led to the throne room. And that’s where he was; manspreading on his throne, wine glass in one of his hands while the other lazily stroked his beloved three-headed guardian; who sat by the feet of his master and wagged his tail as soon as you came in sight. 

“Your Majesty.” You spoke, walking further into the room and stopping at the stairs which led to his throne. 

He smiled as he watched you standing there, dressed in a dark grey dress. Similar to the one you wore yesterday, just a different color. “You look beautiful.” 

“Thank you.” You looked down at the dress, smoothing the soft fabric down as you spoke. “Also thank you for breakfast.” 

He caught the smirk you had on your face. He knew the reason behind it. “I assure you I wasn’t trying to be funny.” 

You took the liberty of walking up the stairs which led to his throne. “I didn’t say anything.” You whispered with a smirk and reached down to greet Cerberus. “So what do you do all day?” 

He took a sip of his wine, watching you as you knelt to the ground beside him and gave the dog endless pets. “I’m a god.” He sounded cocky. “That’s plenty of work already.” 

When you looked up at him and smirked, he could’ve sworn he felt tingles dance down his spine. There you were, a beautiful woman happily sharing space with him inside his dark kingdom like it was no big deal, with no intention of leaving anytime soon because you said it yourself that being here made you feel safe. 

The more he looked at you, the more he saw the light radiating off you. The light he so desperately needed. The light which balanced out the darkness he carried with him. The light which showed him glimpses of possible futures with you, if you’d be willing. The god was content in your company. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt the need to protect something so fiercely. 

“Come with me.” He stood up and set his glass aside, holding his hand out for you to take. 

You took it and he helped you up. “Where are we going?” you asked, as he led you down the stairs and into the corridor again. 

“There’s so much for you to see. My kingdom isn’t just full of darkness and death. There’s beauty here too, of course, none quite like your own but close.” He spoke as he led you somewhere, holding your hand carefully in his as though it were made of glass and would shatter if he let it go. 

You rolled your eyes at his comment, pretending as if it didn’t make you all flustered. “Is it now?” 

The god led you all the way to the place he was most fond of in his entire kingdom, other than his beloved throne. It was a vast garden, fit to be the backyard of a castle. There were more kinds of plants and flowers than you could count. Cobblestone walkways leading to what seemed to be a pond in the middle, surrounded by stones and moss. 

The dark red roses caught your attention rather quickly. You reached out to touch the soft petals and you felt Bucky’s presence behind you. He was so close that you could feel his warm breaths against your skin. 

“It’s so pretty.” You whispered. 

He reached around you and plucked one of them, handing it to you. “Just like you.” He mumbled and you gave him a genuine smile as you accepted the gorgeous flower. Dark red, like blood and sin. 

Amongst the numerous plants, trees and shrubs you managed to spot the one growing pomegranates. You cracked a little smile. Even though the garden was partly shadowy and foggy; the rays of sun which came through were golden and gentle. As you looked around, you spotted a yellowish weeping willow tree and walked towards it, the god followed you. 

“You’re the first one to ever step in here, you know that?” he said while thinking about all the times he spent hours in here wondering if one day fate would ever allow him to find someone he could share the joy of being here with.  

You reached out to touch the dangling leaves and looked back at him. “Well thank you for the privilege, Your Majesty.” You teased. 

You walked a few steps forwards, standing under the willow tree and admiring his secret garden when you felt his arm snaking around your waist as he placed his chin on your shoulder. 

Neither of you said anything. He was more than happy to have you here, he had been lonely for way too long. You said to yourself, ‘this isn’t so bad.’ 

He had told you about the rules of the Underworld before, you knew you couldn’t leave. You didn’t want to either. Sure, you missed your mom a lot. But going back out there would mean having to live in constant fear of what if your dad finds you. And what would he do if he does? 

Being here meant that you’d be safe and wouldn’t have to worry about anyone catching you. You didn’t fear anything here. It was quiet and the handsome god was great company. You felt all warm and tingly as he held you close, yet it felt comfortable and natural - like you were meant to be here with him, as if you had known him all your life. 

As of now, neither of you knew where this mutual attraction would go, or what it would end up being. But at the moment, just having the other one there was enough. He gave you the safety you had been searching for all your life and you provided him the warmth and light he had craved for millennia. 

---

Days in the Underworld were surprisingly peaceful; filled with surprises, visits to the garden, learning more about the god and finding out why he stayed as far away from his family as possible, wandering his kingdom all day, reading… time just flew by. And before you knew it, you had lived in the Underworld for months. 

Your bond with Bucky morphed into something more affectionate and sweet. Lingering touches and longing stares turned into deep, passionate kisses and always having to sleep in the same bed because otherwise nothing made sense. It wasn’t just love, it was tender adoration. It was warm, and light and safe. 

You hadn’t been intimate yet, but the sparks flew around whenever your hands touched at night, or when your eyes met from across the table at dinner. You were both holding back from taking it a step further. It wasn’t like he wasn’t dying to have you in his bed, or that whenever he kissed you good morning you didn’t feel the need to get on top of him and ride him until the sun came up the next day - but you were both waiting for a sign from the other and it was driving both of you insane. 

It got really, really heated one time. Bucky was on his throne, with you in his lap. His hands slipped under your dress and lazily caressed your thighs while he kissed the hell out of you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, while you gasped and moaned through the kiss. 

But just then Cerberus barged in, barking and jumping around with nothing but chaos on his mind. Bucky let out a loud sigh while you hid your face into his neck and giggled. It was those moments which made you love the place all the more. Not just the place, but the god as well. 

Winter came and when the weather was the coldest, and you spent all your time indoors is when the memories of your mother started tormenting you. She used to spend all her time baking in the winter, so you asked Bucky if you could too. He, of course, let you have anything you wanted whenever you wanted so naturally he let you. 

You tried so hard to keep yourself busy and happy but you couldn’t help but miss your mom. Bucky noticed it. And it broke him. He gave you everything one could ever need. You had everything here, and yet he could see how your eyes weren’t so shiny and curious or filled with magic and light anymore. You were dimmer than when you first came here. 

He began seeing you wandering around his home a lot less as you spent all your time either in bed or standing on one of the balconies, staring out at the woods longingly. No amount of books, or poetry or visits to the garden or your favorite food or kisses from Cerberus made you happy any longer. And Bucky’s worst fear was materializing in front of his eyes. 

You were no longer happy in the Underworld it seemed. 

-

One night, he found you curled up in bed earlier than usual. He stood at the door and watched you. You weren’t crying, you were just sad. He walked into the room and called out, “Angel, are you okay?” 

You sat up immediately, not wanting him to see you like this but at the same time you couldn’t fake being happy either. So you gave him a faint smile. “Yes, just a headache. I’ll be fine by morning.” 

He smiled faintly. His heart breaking at the sight of the sadness in your eyes. “Come with me, I have something to show you.” 

You got out of the bed and took his hand. He led you to one of the libraries he had; the coziest one with the huge fireplace and the perfect window which allowed you to see the breathtaking view of the gentle snowfall. 

You stepped further into the room and saw that he had the fire going already and the room was much warmer than anywhere else in his castle. You walked right over to the large window, pressing your palm against it as you watched the light snowfall; clean, dazzling white and calming. Your headache faded little by little. 

You felt a soft, warm blanket being placed upon your shoulders and you immediately wrapped it around you. Turning your head to the side you found Bucky right behind you. He kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you. 

“Feeling better?” He asked and you nodded. 

“Much better.” 

You stood there, basking in the comfortable silence and the warmth of the room, just watching the snowfall and how it accumulated on the ground; a fresh, thick blanket of ice. 

“You miss her.” Again, it wasn’t a question from him, just a statement. 

“Who?” You pretended not to understand. 

He kissed your cheek and whispered, “Your mother. Your home. You want to go back, don’t you?” He sounded almost heartbroken and bitter. 

You remained quiet. You didn’t say anything. No… ? 

He spoke up again. “Even if I let you go, you will never be willing to come back here. To me.” He pulled away from the hug and walked over to the fireplace, shifting the burning wood with a brass fire poker. “Why would you?” He sounded pensive. “Why would you come back to this dark, barren kingdom when you can be perfectly happy out there? You must feel like you’re being held captive here.” 

He didn’t turn around to face you so he couldn’t see the silent tear which fell down your cheek. So he thought that if given the chance you would run away from here and never come back to him again? Did the past months mean nothing? Did he not see that he was all you wanted? 

Your throat burned. 

“Is that what you think of me?” The crack in your voice caught his attention. He turned around to face you with a worried look on his face. He couldn’t believe he made you cry. You weren’t sobbing, but you couldn’t contain the tears. “You really think I’m gonna be happy out there, without you?” 

That broke him. 

“Angel… I didn’t mean to…,” it was rare for the god to find himself at a loss of words but now he did. 

You wiped your tears away. “Did you even notice that I haven’t cried in months? Not since I met you because you make me the happiest I’ve ever been. This dark, barren kingdom you speak of feels more like home to me than when I lived with my family.” 

He walked up to you and pulled you into his arms. “Baby… I’m sorry.” 

You hugged him back. “I don’t feel like I’m being held captive. I don’t want to leave you. But I can’t help but miss my mom. I don’t want you to think I’m not happy with you anymore, I am. But I… It’s… I don’t know.” 

“I’m sorry.” He said, pulling away to look down into your eyes. “I need you here, with me. The thought of you leaving me forever and never seeing you again, it… it kills me.” 

You held him by the back of his neck and pulled him closer. “I’m not leaving.” You gave him a sweet kiss. “I love you.” You kissed him again and sensed his surprise as he kissed you back feverishly. You whined when his mouth left yours only to kiss down your neck, nibbling on your skin and leaving dark red marks behind. 

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” He mumbled as he kissed along your throat, walking the two of you back until he plopped down on the soft, velvety couch with you on his lap. You looked at him with nothing but hunger in your eyes. He looked at you and smirked; burning desire, lust and sin in his icy blue eyes. 

“Likewise.” you whispered. 

His hands grabbed you at your butt, firmly as he pressed you further into him. You could feel him; big and hard under you. You moved your hips against him, grinding on him out of desperation and whining in need. 

He chuckled against your lips. “You’ve had me by my heart ever since you walked into my life.” He spoke as he cupped your face gently. “I never knew I could feel so deeply for someone until I met you.” 

You stared into his eyes, your heart overflowing with all that you felt for him and your body burning with desire at the same time. So much so that you could no longer sit still on his lap. You needed him so bad it almost hurt. 

You leaned into his touch. “I feel the same way.” You leaned closer, gently caressing the back of his neck. “Falling for you was so easy.” You felt his body tense under you. 

He groaned. “Come here…” he pulled your face closer and pressed his lips to yours immediately, kissing you passionately and making your body tingle; biting your lip before shoving his tongue past your lips and kissing you like he’s famished and you’re the only thing which can satiate his profound hunger. 

Next thing you knew, he pushed you down onto the couch and hovered above you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. You moaned and whimpered, body squirming under his. You needed him, terribly.

Bucky’s mouth left your lips as he kissed his way down your body, undressing you in the process. Your long, flowy dress found itself on the floor as he settled himself in between your legs. His handsome face just inches away from your dripping core. 

He looked hungry, and feral – a man who wanted to do bad things to you, and you were more than happy to let him do whatever he wanted. “You’re mine.” He growled before he leaned in and kissed your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease.

Your body felt hotter and lighter as a pressing need to release formed deep inside you as you felt his tongue stroked your most sensitive parts. “So fucking sweet…” he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. “Look at me.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble.

You opened your eyes and supported your upper body up with your elbows digging into the couch and you took in the sight of him in between your legs. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He maintained eye contact as he licked in between your wet folds again, making you whine as he teased you. His touch was deliberately slow, pleasurably agonizing. 

“Please…” you cried out, whimpering and begging him to take you already. 

Your hand flew to his hair and you tugged on it gently as he flicked his tongue over your clit over and over again. His stormy blue eyes watched how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud until you came undone. 

He kissed his way up your body again, then lifted off you for just a moment to get rid of his clothes. Once done, he was hovering over your naked body again. 

“If it were up to me, I’d keep you here…” he leaned in to kiss you on the lips, “just like this, forever.” He loved the sight of you; naked, hot and squirming under him. He desperately wanted to keep you there forever and never let you go. 

You giggled. “Fiend.” 

He smiled as he looked down at you. “Where have you been all this time?” He leaned in to kiss you again as his hands touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and kissing your skin. 

His hands slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. You moaned into the kiss; his touch was slow, and gentle and enticing but also fiery - much like himself. 

You whimpered and squirmed under him, and he smirked through the kiss as he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance, pulling your legs up to wrap them around his waist. You moaned out loud as he pushed into you, your back arching off the surface of the couch. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, giving you a couple of seconds to adjust. 

He grabbed both your hands, laced your fingers together with his and pinned your interlaced hands down above your head. He stared into your eyes, lips parted as he struggled to fit inside you. He had always wondered how he would feel inside you. How warm and how tight and snug you’d feel… but you felt better than he imagined. 

You threw your head back, moaning. You were so full of him that even you couldn’t even form a proper thought. His lips found yours again, trying to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours. He pulled out and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to fit him inside of you. 

“Come on, take all of me…” He mumbled breathlessly as he pushed deeper into you. You heard him gasp and swear under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held on to as he pounded into you. 

He bit your lips, kissed your open mouth, and shoved his tongue past your lips while he rammed into you; and you never once complained. He stretched you out completely. And it did hurt, but the pleasure compensated for the pain. Your legs trembled around his waist, he thrust deeper into you; fucking you like only a god could. 

Your back arched off the couch as you felt a familiar warmth washing over you. Bucky growled and bit down on your shoulder to keep himself from being too loud while he fucked you. He was relentless. The sound of his moans and grunts sent tingles dancing down your spine and you were sure that his bite left a mark. 

Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the rush of excitement which coursed through him each time he felt his cock deep within you. His hand travelled all the way to your neck and he gently squeezed the side of your throat. Hard enough to make you lose your mind while he kept pounding into you incessantly. 

“Fuck…” you heard a barely audible moan leave his lips as he rammed his cock in and out of you incessantly. 

You felt him quicken his pace. You tightened around him, and he groaned, pounding into you; growling and mumbling swear words under his breath. You felt the pressure in between your hips grow until you couldn’t hold back anymore. 

His other hand toyed with your folds; his fingers furiously rubbed the skin around your clit and made you tremble and whimper again. You moaned, craving more and more of him. With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling the burning hot need to cum grow hotter and hotter inside you until it exploded.

You came with a loud moan, gushing all around him. Bucky came right after you; buried deep within you – growling under his breath. His warm cum shot at your walls and trickled out of you when he carefully removed his length from your entrance. You were a whimpering mess. And so was he. 

He collapsed next to you. You were shaking just a little as he tucked your head under his chin and ran his soothing hand down your back; while kissing the side of your head. 

“I love you too, angel.” 

 ---

 Bucky agreed on letting you go for a few days, so you could meet your mom. But he had one condition: 

“My mom will freak out!” you exclaimed. 

Bucky shook his head. “Mortals can’t see him as the guardian of the Underworld. Your mother will see him as just a regular dog.” 

“Then how can I?” 

“You’re special.” He walked over to you and pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead. “You were meant to be here. To be mine.” 

“Are you sure about this?” You bent down to give the excited three-headed little monster scratches. 

“Absolutely.” He was sending Cerberus along with you for your safety. 

You smiled at the dog and looked up at it’s master. “Alright then. When do I leave? And how?” 

The god smiled. “Right now. I’ll take you.” 

You smirked. “You know we can’t show up in a chariot being drawn by horses, right?” 

He chuckled. “Trust me, angel. Come on, take my hand.” 

You did. And the next thing you knew, all three of you were surrounded by black fog, and less than a few seconds later, you found yourself standing at the entrance of a beautiful, gated home you didn’t recognize. You looked beside you and there stood your beloved god and his trustee guardian. You realized it was night time. 

“Where are we?” you looked around, not recognizing the neighborhood. 

Bucky grabbed your hand in his and Cerberus’ leash in another. “Your mom’s place.” He led you to the front door and rang the bell. You were confused, but too excited to see your mom to ask any further questions. 

Needless to say, your reunion with your mother was filled with tears and teary smiles and hugs. She then told you that her and your dad were no longer together and that this was her home now. She didn’t know where your dad was, and neither did she want to. 

“Oh honey, who is this handsome young man?” Your mother asked, once she realized that Bucky was there too. 

You went along with the story you and him had concocted before leaving the Underworld. You told your mother that Bucky was your long term boyfriend and that you ran away to him because you were in love with him and couldn’t agree to marry someone else. 

“I’m gonna be away on a business trip for a couple of weeks, so I thought why not leave Y/N with you until I return. After all, she’s been wanting to see you.” Bucky spoke to your mom politely and won her over within a few minutes. The god was indeed very charming. 

After leaving Cerberus in your care, Bucky parted from you at the doorstep with a long, deep kiss. “I’ll be back for you, angel. Miss me.” 

You smiled, kissing him back. “I will wait. I love you.” 

“I love you more. Take care.” he kissed your forehead, and left. 

Leaving you behind to your mother whom you had missed, but who also had a thousand questions for you. You answered all of them, lied at most. 

---

The first week went by almost too quickly. Mother-daughter quality time, gossip and all. Cerberus was a sweetheart and each morning when you woke up and saw him in the kitchen keeping your mom company, you’d freak out for a moment or two. Then you’d eventually remember that she couldn’t see him for what he truly is and you’d calm down. 

By week two, the jittery feeling of being back with your mom had died down. Not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with her, but the fear of your father finding you caught you off-guard often. 

It was someday during the third week of you being back with your mom that your fears hit you hard. You had a terrible nightmare where your dad was back and was trying to take you away again. It was spine-chilling to a point where even Cerberus picked up on it. 

You woke up to him whining and licking your face. You sighed in relief upon seeing his heads looking down at you in worry and confusion. 

“I’m okay,” you gave him some pets and he immediately curled up on the bed beside you. You snuggled beside him, caressing his fur which looked shiny thanks to the moonlight coming in through the window. “You miss your daddy, don’t you?” You saw his multiple ears perk up at that. You giggled. “I miss him too.” You give his paw a kiss. 

“Well good thing daddy’s here.” You heard his voice coming from the dark shadow of your room. Cerberus jumped out of bed and was surprisingly quiet as he greeted his master with much excitement. “Hello,” Bucky greeted him, “how about you go home now? I know you’ve missed it.” One last scratch behind the ears and a snap of Bucky’s fingers later, Cerberus disappeared into black fog.

You sat up in the middle of your queen-sized bed and leaned over to light the soft, golden lamp shade by the side of your bed. You blinked in confusion. “Bucky?” You were pleasantly surprised. The soft golden light made him look almost angelic despite his signature, all black outfit. 

He gave you his signature cocky smirk. “Were you expecting someone else at this odd hour, angel?” 

You rushed out of bed and right into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close and he kissed your hair. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I’ve missed you too baby. You have no idea.” He pulled away and cupped your face so he could get a good look at you. He leaned down to kiss your lips, deeply. You felt warm all of a sudden. 

You smiled through the kiss before pulling away, asking in a hushed tone, “How come you’re here at this time?” 

“I sensed that something was wrong. You were having a nightmare, weren’t you?” 

You nodded. “But I’m okay now.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” 

You rubbed your nose against his. “Doesn’t matter, you’re here now.” 

He grabbed your face and kissed you again; down your neck and along your shoulder. His stubble tickled your skin and you giggled as quietly as you could. You felt his hands caress your skin under your shirt, inching closer and closer to your breasts while he walked you back and eventually pushed you down onto your bed. 

Your body tingled and burned under his warm touch, and there was nothing you wanted more than to have him buried deep in you. Ever since that first night together, you craved him almost all the time. After all, he made love to you like a god. 

“Do you know how hard it was, being away from you for so long?” He whispered, sounding gentle, but also demanding and hot. 

Suddenly you felt all confident and sassy. “Why don’t you show me then?” 

He smirked and grabbed your oversized t-shirt and tossed it over your head and somewhere behind him. The sight of your bare body underneath him made him growl. “Is this how you slept every night? Almost naked?” He whispered in your ear as his hands roamed your body, mainly toying with your breasts. “Did you touch yourself, while thinking of me? Hmm?” 

You gasped and moaned just at the sound of his voice, he was barely touching you. 

He pressed his mouth to yours again, impatient to just have you already. His mouth didn’t leave yours as his hand slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. His touch caused a shiver to run down your spine as you moaned through the kiss. 

“Shh,” he mumbled against your lips. “Can’t have your mom find out that her daughter is being a dirty, dirty little girl for me now, can we?” He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around as he went. 

He messed with you for a little bit; stroking your walls with his fingers and making you whine. You whimpered quietly under him as he nuzzled your neck and nibbled on the skin along your throat. “Please…” you pleaded. He chuckled. 

“Please what, baby?” he teased you with his fingers, keeping you on the edge. 

You whined under your breath. “I need you… please…” 

His lips found yours again as the two of you hurried to unbuckle his pants and he pulled it down enough to free his erected cock. He couldn’t wait any longer. “I need you too baby,” he kissed you deeply, “but I’m gonna need you to be quiet for me, okay?” 

He pulled away and waited for an answer. You nodded, breathless already. 

“Good girl.” He pressed his forehead against yours while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You moaned under your breath as he did. You whimpered as you felt all of him. His lips found yours again, attempting to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours. 

“Shh, angel.” He whispered in your ear before pounding into you like his life depended on it. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, something which had become a habit of his, as he groaned under his breath at how your body welcomed him perfectly.

You failed to form proper thoughts as he rammed into you. The sounds he made were downright sinful and you loved it so much; knowing that you had the power to make him lose his mind. 

“You’re all mine, you hear me?” He mumbled. “Tell me you’re mine,” he whispered right at the shell of your ear, and you moaned quietly at how he sped up into you.

You did as he asked. You told him again and again that you were his. And no one else’s. You couldn’t imagine loving anyone else. 

Bucky held you like you were the most fragile thing ever even while he fucked you like there was no tomorrow. You were a tear-stained, whimpering mess as you came around his thick cock. He came right after you, grunting and groaning under his breath. 

“I love you. So much.” He whispered, kissing the side of your face to calm you down. 

You smiled, breathless still. “I love you too.” 

 He stayed with you, in your bed long after you two were done going at it for a second time that night. You snuggled into his side, your hand lazily across his torso. “Are you gonna stay for a little longer? Have breakfast with mom and I?” 

He caressed your cheek with his thumb, “Won’t your mother ask how I got here?” 

“I’ll tell her that you got here quite early while she was still sleeping.” 

He raised his eyebrows at you rather dramatically. “Look at you lying without any shame.” 

You giggled and got on top of him, straddling his waist and placed both your palms against his toned chest. “Oh the things I do for love,” You leaned down and kissed his lips with your own swollen ones. 

He smiled. “Does your mom like me? As your… boyfriend?” He asked, sounding a little worried and it made you laugh because he was… him - a god, a king, ruler of the Underworld and here he was worrying about if your mom approved of him or not. 

You pulled away to look into his eyes. “Yes. She likes you quite a lot actually. Who wouldn’t? You’re perfect.” 

He smiled, his heart exploding at your words, as his hands caressed your exposed thighs. “I like her too. We’ll visit her every now and then, don’t worry.” he spoke and then looked around at your bedroom. “I like it here.” 

You kissed him again, pouring all your love out into the kiss. You pulled away again, “Also I was thinking maybe we could go back tomorrow.” 

He knew perfectly what you meant but he was dying to hear you say it. “Where to, angel?” He reached out and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissed your knuckles. 

You smiled down at him, your heart exploding with just how much love you had for him. 

You answered, “Home.”

[sarahjkl82-blog]

Okay I have an idea for family man Pero

You had wrote that they the dog broke the mom's couch 😂

Were they teens/young adults? If so (& even if they weren't), how would they have reacted to finding out she was pregnant? I imagine it would have been unplanned given the way little Javi was conceived? Lol

@sharkbait77 I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to write this for you. But here is 16.8k words all about your ask because being succinct is not my strong point. In my head, reader is roughly 25 and Pero is about 29- they’re young but not super young. Still a bit of a shock to reader though.

Warnings: Children, babies, childbirth (mentions of blood/ body fluids), breast feeding, anxiety, feet, periods, smut - ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS.

Modern!Pero and the Original Broken Sofa

(Or how little Javi came to be)

You’re a mum.

A mama.

How the fuck did that happen? I mean, you know

it happened but still. Pero looks to be in a similar amount of shock as you turn your head to look at him - the 5 o’clock shadow on his chin prickling your bare shoulder as he rests it there. His lips are slightly parted as he gazes down upon his newborn son, who is cradled tightly to your chest.

This wasn’t meant to happen yet.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Mi cielo, you’re beautiful but you stink,” the twinkle in Pero’s eyes reveals what the rest of his face is desperately trying to hide as he attempts to rub off the stinking mud from your face with one hand, your mum’s new pup - Nana, the fucking Newfoundland - tugging on her lead in his other.

“Are you talking to me, or the bloody dog?” You question, grumpily reaching for your boyfriend’s hand as he tries to one-handedly haul you from the brackish pond. Clumsily clambering out - looking a little like a bog monster with twigs and mud plaited in your hair - you look up sharply on hearing an ill-concealed choke of laughter, “Stop it cabrón, or I’ll push you in there myself and you can smell as bad.”

“Lo siento, mi corazón,” his dimple flashes as he giggles openly - a sound he reserves for you alone, “For someone, who moves so gracefully when they dance, you are incredibly clumsy the rest of the time. I just don’t quite understand how you fell in and Nana didn’t.”

You stick out your bottom lip as you ponder how, having accidentally dropped the dog’s lead and chased after the escaping mutt, you ended up submerged in stinking water, “I think she corners better than me.”

“Four feet good, two feet bad?” Pero laughs before straightening his face as another dog walker walks past the pair of you. Heaven forbid anyone should catch him with a genuine smile upon his face and not a smirk of disgust.

The woodland is like an oasis of paradise despite its little pockets of dank pond water. The fresh air manages to filter out the persistent hum of traffic that punctates it everywhere else, only the distant tower blocks and skyscrapers remind you that you’re still in the city. Here, your mum’s lunatic dog, with her boundless, puppy-like energy, can run free for hours and the two of you can stop working for two minutes to remember how to just be. The sunlight trickles in through the stained glass leaves, letting in a purer light than the exhaust fume stained one you find in Central.

Nearby, on the trunk of an elderly oak tree, there is a woodpecker hunting for insects. You nudge Pero wordlessly, not wanting to break the magical quality of the moment as you watch its brilliant red crest rocking back and forth as it pecks endlessly into the ancient bark. Tiny chips of wood fall into the bed of leaf litter below, the sound swallowed quickly into the mostly empty woodland around.

After that enchanting spot, you try to take your boyfriend’s hand but he spins out of reach quickly. Frowning at him, you try again, and again but he just lurches out of the way each time.

This is war!

“Can I have a kiss?”

Still semi-wrestling Nana to walk in the same direction as you, Pero frowns for a moment before answering, “Maybe later?”

“How long is that later? Are we talking about a rest of the world later or a Spanish mañana?” you quiz him teasingly, knowing full well that he doesn’t want to kiss the walking filth bucket by his side.

“Querida, it’s an international after-a-shower later,” he chuckles, still edging further from you, his feet slightly picking up speed as the path through the woods opens out into an expansive field.

A wicked flash of mischief sparks in your eye, your feet accelerating to mimic his, “Do you not want to kiss me, mi amor?”

Nana loves this slight change in speed from the pedestrian plod she’d been forced to pace at. With a bounce and bark, she bowls forwards. All forty kilos of the daft hound wrench forward, pulling on the lead and Pero’s hand that is attached to it, making him almost fall flat on his face with the sudden movement as he bellows, “Maldito perro! Bloody dog! I swear, all the women in my life gang up on me.”

Still giving chase, you run after him laughing until your lungs hurt, “Cariño, I just want a kiss!”

“Stay away from me, bruja and talk to your mother’s dog,” Pero wheezes out between gasps from the sudden sprint he’s been forced on.

Leaves and questionable sludge fly from your body as you run after the pair of them, over the open field past several bemused dog walkers as you dramatically shout after the rapidly disappearing pair, “I just want un beso from mi amor - why are you being so mean?”

“Not mean, just prefer my weekends not covered in pond scum,” he shouts over his shoulder at you, that turn of his head becoming his literal downfall as Nana cuts in front of him and he ends up on the floor in a heap, “Hijo de puta! Son of a bitch!”

Finally catching up with a groaning Pero, still prostrate amongst the grass and wildflowers, you stand over him, smirking at his fate, “You ok down there?”

Squinting up at you against the glare of the sun, he slowly sits up, drawing his knees towards himself as he pushes his way off the ground - rolling his eyes hard, “Come on, let's get you home so you can shower and I can kiss you again.”

✪✪✪✪✪

With a towel around your hair and another tucked under your arms, you flick through the overnight bag you’ve brought with you while you stay at your mum’s. It had all been so last minute - you are house sitting Nana whilst your mum goes off on a yoga retreat with a couple of friends- but Pero and you had jumped at the chance of being somewhere other than your sweltering flat. You’d forgotten to pack so much - like your wash bag or Pero’s razor - but it is hardly as if you are in the middle of nowhere. As you pull out a pretty cotton summer dress, your hand knocks against the tissue wrapped, little present you’ve bought for Pero to enjoy, a smile unfurling across your face as you unwrap the stunning lingerie set.

Once you’re dressed, you head into the kitchen to throw together some tapas for the two of you to pick at for dinner. From the other room, you can hear the furious slam of keys coming from your boyfriend’s computer.

Not another problem at work.

The problem of being an IT security specialist means that evenings and weekends are never free from work, which often translates to him being permanently attached to his computer. As you decant the Andalusian chicken into one of your mum’s many ceramic dishes you’d collected for her on that fateful year abroad you’d spent in Seville, you then hear a softened baritone cut though the summer air, “Oh are you hungry, pequeño? Cariño, I think Nana needs feeding.”

You look up over your shoulder, away from the salad you are preparing as your ruffled, shuffling boyfriend enters the room with Nana pitter-pattering at his feet. A little grunt of appreciation spills from Pero’s lips as he sees the spread of squid, mussels, tortilla and other delectable treats set out across the table. His hand flickers out like a serpent's tongue in an attempt to surreptitiously steal a stuffed pepper without you noticing - a cheeky flash of his dimple showing upon his face as he notices you watching him amusedly, “Perhaps I need feeding too?”

“Pero, has there ever been a moment in your life where you haven’t needed feeding?” you question, shaking your head as he saunters up behind you, placing a slightly oily kiss upon your shoulder, “I shall never forget your mum’s words about her boobs the first time I met her. The supposed damage you did to them from your constant need to feed as a baby.”

A little snicker of amusement comes from across the other side of the kitchen where Pero is now leaning languidly, his long legs outstretched as his hips rest against the work surface, “I have two other sisters with similarly voracious appetites- the blame cannot solely be placed at my door.

“What is it your mum always says about me? That I have empty legs? No, hollow. Hollow legs. Anyway a growing boy needs his food. As does this puppy, where does your mother keep the dog biscuits?” Pero starts opening cupboards in search of something to satiate the hound.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll do it in a moment. You go sit down and grab some bits to eat, before you have to head back to your computer.”

Within a split second, Pero is at the table with a plate piled high and Nana sitting patiently at his feet, awaiting the food that drops from the sky. You can't help but laugh at the tableau of the man and this monstrous puppy sitting adoringly at his feet with her fluffy black chin resting patiently on his thigh in everlastingly optimistic hopefulness. Placing the salad on the table, you hear Pero mutter to Nana, “S’ok perrito, I won’t make you eat your greens.”

“I hope if we ever have kids, you’ll be a bit tougher than that,” you wag your finger at him, turning to go fill Nana’s bowl. As you place it on the floor, you hear a jumble of sounds exit Pero’s brain all at once.

“Que...Queri...Querida? Uh hmmm,” in the sounds of your boyfriend’s brain short circuiting, you laugh in the realisation of what Pero has just gotten a glimpse of as you bent over, “Okay perrito, you do not need to see any of this. You’re far too young.” Scooping Nana up in his arms, he pops her in her bed with a quick scratch of her head before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the kitchen into the front room, shutting the baby gate on the way to avoid any cold dog nose situations.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Cielito, are you ok?” You question having been half marched into the living room.

“This needs to come off,” the soft baritone begs you as you feel Pero’s fingers searching desperately around the bodice of your dress.

Giggling as his fingers stroke the material in search of a fastener, you complain, “You’re tickling me!”

“You’re not too attached to this dress are you? Ah no me importa! Oh I don’t care!” With that, he rips the material so that he can see what you've been hiding underneath. This action makes you shriek in surprise, mouth agape. Whilst he has torn many a piece of underwear in desperation of accessing you quicker, the dress tearing is a first.

When he catches your shocked expression, he pauses, “Lo siento, querida niña, pero I must see what’s underneath. I promise we will get you another dress, I just… Oh!”

For such a large, broad man, his touch is always so gentle (well, apart from that dress - RIP). Initially he just hovers near you, his fingers making tiny brushstrokes across where lace meets skin, “What … What is this for, cielo?” It is not my birthday,” his eyes dart to the side, eyebrows furrowing as he ponders, “It’s not an anniversary, either.”

“No, mi sol. No reason, you’ve just been working so hard and I thought you could do with a treat,” you stroke his stubbly face lovingly as you look up at him, “I’ve barely seen you for weeks - we might live at the same address but work has been so hectic that I think the walk earlier is the first time we’ve spent more than half an hour together without a screen open.”

As he encircles you, admiring your body from every side, his hands linger longingly as they stroke over the silken material. You enjoy every laboured breath and every tic you see in his face, “Oh querida, you always look good but …”

“Even when you wouldn’t kiss me because I had mud all over me earlier?” You teasingly question.

“Well, I still thought you were beautiful even though you were covered in mud, but this?” His eyes are wide in wonder as he catches your eye, “This is something else. I can’t find the words in Spanish, let alone in English to describe this sight before me.

“You look so beautiful. Your curves are so… mmm, so delicious,” you watch Pero bite his lip as he considers where to start, “I want to devour you, mi cielo.”

A light scratch from his nails makes you sharply inhale as he moves your hair away from your neck. As he moves closer, you can feel the small, warm huffs of his breath before he places his deliciously full lips against your silky smooth skin. As his mouth explores the vulnerable, sensitive areas of your neck - kissing, nibbling, licking - you feel your shoulders drop as all the muscles relax, knowing that for now, you have won the battle of winning Pero’s attention from his computer screen.

Pero’s hands start moving down from your shoulders, fingers tracing the length of your arms before bringing them up to trace the outline of your bra. The reverence that he applies to learning the contours of the lace makes your skin tingle all over, forcing a moan from your lips.

“Am I moving too slowly, cielo? Lo siento but a meal such as this cannot be rushed,” he growls softly in your ear.

Sliding the straps gently from your shoulders to remove the tatters of your dress, it slides to the floor in a pile of rags as he mutters, “Ah señorita, how is someone as beautiful as you, with a man such as me?”

His hands drift across your breasts with his thumbs seeking out your steadily stiffening nipples through the silky cups. Your heartbeat quickens despite the slow assault Pero makes upon your body, your breathing warm and erratic at his touch.

All this time he has been worshipping at the altar of your body, his eyes have been focussed upon the part that he is slowly unravelling. When eventually he looks up, the expression upon his face almost brings you to tears. So much softness and adoration in those burnt umber eyes, lips slightly parted with a slight upward curl that creeps in at the corner as he focuses upon you.

Bringing his hands to your hair, he tilts his head before time stops in a collision of senses as Pero leans in to brush the gentlest of kisses against your lips. The scent of sandalwood and cedar rising from his skin excites your senses as the two of you meet as one. His hands slide further around to your back where they pull you tightly against him.

Any space that may have existed between the two of you is quickly extinguished as you push yourself into him, deepening the kiss- making it the type of kiss that destroys any kind of sensible thought. The only things mattering in the moment being feeling and wanting.

In time, your kisses steady, becoming tender again. Pero pulls back momentarily to mutter through laboured breaths, “Mi chica hermosa my beautiful girl.”

Shuffling backwards until your calves hit the couch, the two of you collapse backwards in a tangle of limbs as your hands and lips continue to explore each other. As your bodies crash land into the cushions, there is a groan from the joints of the sofa, you can’t help but giggle in the moment, “Sounds like you getting out of bed in the morning, viejo.”

At that, Pero bites you playfully on your shoulder and breaks backwards from you, sitting back on his heels, straddling your hips. He strokes a wayward tendril of hair from your face before sliding his hands beneath your back, fumbling away, trying to unclasp your bra. You can’t help but giggle at this wasted effort, whispering, “Guapo, you untie it in front.”

“Mierda, I get to unwrap you like a present?” he growls as he gazes upon the ribbon resting between your breasts, “Fuuuuck.”

As his knees straddle your hips, Pero’s hands go back to tracing the lace across the cups- his touch making you want to scream in impatience. His hands gradually work their way towards the bow, a huge smile spreading across his face as he takes the silky fabric and gently tugs the ribbon undone. Your breasts spill free from the material and a lust-laden moan spills from your boyfriend’s mouth.

Eagerly bending over, Pero brings one of your breasts to his mouth, gently flicking his tongue over your nipple before sucking and squeezing the succulently tender flesh. As his mouth continues to feast upon your breasts, Pero’s hands slowly stroke away the gauzy material from your tummy allowing him access to the soft silky skin beneath making you tremble beneath his touch. His fingers tenderly stroke patterns of love before he rises up and away from you.

You lick your lips as you watch him peel off his T-shirt - drinking in the sight of his broad chest and beautifully olive skin.

“Cielito, don’t look at me like that or I will revert into being a teenage boy and cum in my pants,” he chuckles with a flush spreading through his skin as he removes his jeans.

Your sultry pout gives way to a laugh, “I can’t help it, beautiful boy - just enjoying the view!”

Moving himself back onto the sofa, Pero kneels between your legs - sliding his hands up and down the outside of your stockinged thighs. His hands stop when they reach the lacy edging at the top - a wicked sense of glee spilling through your body when you hear his breath catch in his throat. You tremble as he moves his hands to your inside thigh, instinctively shuffling your hips closer to him as if magnetised by his hands.

As Pero’s fingers gradually work their way up, your heart feels like it will break free. Internally clenching in anticipation, you finally feel his fingertips skirt over the silk as he traces the lines of you through your knickers - your legs unconsciously spreading wider, inviting him closer.

Your head spins between wanting him to rip your knickers off and allowing him to continue torturing you so slowly as he presses the rapidly dampening material into your folds. Hooking his thumbs into the waistband, you lift your hips wordlessly for him to slide your knickers off. As he does, you hear Pero suck in a sharp breath, shaking his head and mumbling thickly as he strokes the outline of the suspender belt, “Ah querida, I want this view framed. So fucking beautiful.”

You shift your arse as you desperately seek his fingers deeper rather than the tender strokes Pero is currently tracing through your tight curls. Thankfully, before you have to forcefully reroute his hands, his digits start to delve into the velvet of your pussy making you groan and arch away from the cushions - the sounds you create are entirely indecent.

“So wet for me, cielito,” Pero’s leisurely pace drives you wild as you watch him bring two soaked fingers to his mouth, tasting them as he stares deep into your eyes. Deciding it is time to stop torturing you, he grabs your hips emphatically, bringing your ass to the edge of the sofa - leaping off the cushions to kneel between your thighs.

His calloused hands gently lift your legs over his shoulders, then clasp your ass cheeks before he lowers his head in what you know is his favourite prayer. He places gentle kisses along the line of your slit, nuzzling the damp curls that run either side as you run your hands through his thick, dark hair, holding his head firmly in place. You gasp as his tongue suddenly laps at your clit and two - no, three fingers slide into your pussy as Pero rhythmically pumps his curled digits back and forth. From what feels like nowhere after his constant stroking and teasing, you are soaring high amongst the clouds - chasing that glorious high as your pussy clamps down and you desperately try to snap your hips away from his iron-like grip.

Gradually, your muscles relax and you stop trying to lever his shoulders away with your feet. As Pero slowly drags his fingers from your still fluttering walls, your eyes half open to see a smug grin upon his face, “What are you looking so pleased about?”

“I love how my touch can completely wreck you,” he growls deeply before biting your thigh and straightening up.

With all your muscles partially jelly-like, you make an awkward attempt to slide off the sofa, desperately wanting to take him in your mouth and taste him but a large palm stops your movement.

“Where do you think you’re going, hermosa?” he questions. “Turn around. Place your hands on the arm of the chair.”

You obediently turn yourself around with much needed support for your trembling limbs from Pero’s hands as he guides and manipulates your body into position. He spreads your legs wide apart, lifting your hips up to meet him and thrusts easily inside of you in one smooth stroke. A small scream of pleasure escapes your lips at the sheer intensity of the pleasure he’s pressing between your thighs.

You lift your hips in search of having his cock deeper inside of you as one of his hands grabs your waist and the other wraps itself in your hair, snapping your head back. Reaching between your legs to massage Pero’s balls, you tug and stroke them - enjoying the effect this has on him, as his thrusts become sharper, rubbing perfectly against that tender spot inside of you. Beneath your hand, the sofa arm creaks ominously as Pero’s hips snap into yours, faster and harder as he spins you spiralling closer to the pinnacle of your pleasure.

A large palm comes down and smacks your bare arse forcefully - the pain and pleasure surging through you simultaneously, edging you ever closer to that perfect finish. With each slap of your sensitive bottom, you surge forward - your arms barely able to brace against Pero’s thrusts. A final thrust from him has you flying- both literally and figuratively as your orgasm hits and the arm of the sofa separates from its body.

“Holy shit!” You scream in a bizarre mix of pleasure and terror, your body flying forward as your support slips out of reach.

Still inside of you, Pero tries in vain to catch you as your body clumsily falls forward, “Querida, are you ok?” he pants breathlessly in your ear, “Are you hurt?”

Half hanging off the edge of the sofa, shaking with laughter, you beg between amused gasps, “Not hurt but what the actual fuck?” with an awkward twist, you turn onto your back to face Pero, whose eyes are anxiously checking you over, “Did we really just break the arm of the fucking sofa?”

“Whilst fucking, we broke the fucking sofa,” Pero chuckles into your mostly upside down boobs, nuzzling and kissing into the soft, sweet flesh.

“”What are we going to do, cielo? How on Earth are we going to explain this to my mum?”

Your question is met with a pout from Pero and a small whine from the kitchen. There’s a wonderful wordless moment between the pair of you as your eyes dart towards the other room… Could you?

“I mean, my bottom is bruised black and blue from where she knocked me over in the field by the woods- we could say that was from wrestling with her,” Pero ponders, frowning as he rests his chin on your sternum, “We could accept responsibility for playing with her to the point she got over excited? Your mum doesn’t seem the type to punish after the event so Nana wouldn’t get in trouble.”

“I don’t think my mum will ask for photographic evidence of your bum,” you snort, “Oh I feel guilty blaming the dog but that’s definitely a superior choice to saying, ‘Mum, Pero and I broke your sofa from having amazing sex.’I mean, we have a pretty open relationship but that might be a step too far.”

You lie together for several long moments just simply relishing the closeness, despite being completely topsy-turvy with your head hanging over the edge of the sofa cushions. Savouring the afterglow, you stroke your fingers through Pero’s dark curls, admiring the different shades running through them. He suddenly sighs sharply, making you stroke his cheek and crane your neck to check on him, “You ok, beautiful boy?”

A small grunt meets your question from the man with his head resting between your breasts, “Mmm. Just listening to your heartbeat. Recharging. Getting my strength back.”

“Strength back for what?”

“Why, round two, mi amor”

✪✪✪✪✪

Sitting on the loo, you put the test down on the sink and wipe yourself. Checking the tissue, there’s still no sign of this fucking period. You’re now a week late and whereas you could perhaps write off a day or two of being overdue to the stress you’ve been subjected to at work, the real question of why it is late, is now eating at you.

Why the fuck are most of the symptoms of a period coming, the same as a possible early pregnancy? Achy boobs? Check. Little tummy cramps? Yup. Moodiness. Fuck. If your hands had been big enough to reach all the way around Pero’s fucking thick neck, you’d have murdered him in his sleep last night with that ruckus coming from his airways. Tiredness? Oh boy. You find yourself nodding off in meetings that could have been an email (mind you, nothing new there) and your blessed commute has become a time for naps instead of reading.

The slam of your front door shocks you from your bathroom reverie, “Qué tal, hermosa? Dónde estás?”

“On the loo.”

A small knock taps on the bathroom door making you look up from your vulnerable position, finding Pero filling the door frame - a frown upon his face, “You ok?”

You don’t answer, choosing to gesture toward the plastic stick resting upon the cool ceramic of the sink. Watching his face carefully, his usual passionate expressiveness stilled, you look for a response as a sense of fear ices your veins.

Just a nod. All you get is a nod.

“How much time is left?” he gently asks.

“I dunno. Thirty two seconds?”

“That’s pretty specific for something you said you dunno about,” he teases with a grin on his face, “There’s already an answer on it, if you want to know.”

Drawing a juddery breath, you shut your eyes as you rub the bridge of your nose - like that could help whatever that fucking stick says.

“Wh…What does it say?” You ask quietly.

“Pregnant, mi querida. You’re pregnant, my love.”

“Fuck.”

Pero takes two strides into the room dropping to his knees in front of the toilet, where you sit, sobbing into your fists. Not saying a word, he kneels there - alternately kissing your forehead and stroking your hair.

“Whatever you want to do, querida, I will back you 100% of the way,” he softly whispers.

“How could I be so stupid? Shit, I had that week of antibiotics just before we went to my mum’s- my pill would have been useless!”

“Hey, how many times have you impregnated yourself?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? My brain cannot cope with riddles right now,” you growl at Pero.

“I’m sorry - I mean, you didn’t do this by yourself. And if you remember, it was me who forgot to pack our wash bag when we stayed there - a couple of pills were missed too because of that,” Pero strokes away the tears running down your face, “I should have worn a condom- I should have thought about it. This isn’t all on you.”

“What do you think I should do?”

“Cariño, it is not me who carries the pregnancy or gives birth. My body doesn’t change but no matter what you choose, I am right here beside you,” he calmly delivers, staring deeply into your bloodshot eyes, “Whatever happens, you don’t get rid of this tonto easily.”

“I was just starting to be treated like an equal at work but now they’re going to see me as some silly little girl again, who can’t get her shit together.”

“Please stop being so negative about yourself - fuck them if they judge you. Look at me,” Pero tilts your chin up but your eyes do not follow, “I said look at me, princesa. From the moment I met you, I knew that you were my person. Our lips touched and I could see my future for the first time.

“Before we met, I lived for work. Well, I’m not sure anyone would call it living - I just went from security job to security job with William, barely ever leaving my screen and certainly never speaking to anyone. I had fleeting, toxic relationships where, to be honest, I wasn’t the best boyfriend.

“Kissing you though, it all became clear. I was in a house with you, grumbling about all the idiots in the world over a glass of wine. If work does not value you, then that is their loss - it is not your problem.”

Threading your fingers through his, you shift uncomfortably upon your strange seat, “Did you see children in your future with me?”

“I’m from a family and culture who love children. I’ve always wanted them and more than anything with you but if now is not the time, then we will discuss it when you are ready. What are you thinking, hermosa?”

With your heart in your throat, you worry your lip between your teeth, “It feels so big. So overwhelming.”

Pero nods silently with a small, kind smile playing upon his lips, “Tell me, what do you see when you think of the future?”

✪✪✪✪✪

“So what were the dates of your last menstrual cycle?” the midwife kindly asks at your booking-in appointment.

“The 21st to the 26th of June this year,” you swallow hard, trying to answer the doctor’s questions and ignoring the pit of nausea in your tummy. Nerves or pregnancy - who knows- either way, there is a comforting arm around your back and your right hand is being lovingly squeezed by Pero.

“Okay, do you both live at the same address?”

“Sí, for the past two and a half years at that address and then a year together while you finished uni and a year before that in Spain,” Pero responds.

“And are you daddy?” the midwife questions Pero.

Without a moment’s hesitation, your boyfriend responds, “Yes, I am.”

“Fabulous- I have a section of notes for you to fill out here whilst I go and take some measurements of your partner,” the midwife hands a few sheets of paper to Pero, as she scoops the urine sample from the table and gestures for you to join her.

Following the midwife as she sweeps out of the room to another curtained off area, she points at a plastic coated chair for you to sit in, “Pop yourself there- I’m just going to check your blood pressure with the cuff. I have to ask you some questions away from your partner too.”

“What kind of questions?”

As the cuff tightens around your arm, the midwife looks you straight in the eyes, “I have to ask you - are you at risk of any physical, emotional or sexual violence?”

Not missing a beat, you exclaim with a snort of laughter, “God no! He looks tough but he’s soft as butter.”

“He’s never hit or coerced you in any way?”

“Never.”

“I have to ask and you need to understand that sometimes relationships change during pregnancy. The slightest sign of anything changing, I will give you a list of numbers to call.”

You nod numbly, suddenly terrified for all those put at risk by partners at such a vulnerable time. Thinking of your grumpy Spaniard as your weight and height are measured, you consider how he has been taking even more care of you than before. Pero has always been thoughtful and considerate but with all of this, everything has increased tenfold. How, as soon as you’d decided that you were on board with keeping the pregnancy, he’d run out and buy prenatal vitamins. How every morning, he’s brought you a tablet, a drink and some toast (being one of the few things you can currently keep down). When you’re being sick, he’s held your hair back and even washed it that time he wasn’t quick enough.

The thought of any less didn’t bear thinking about. Roughly a week after finding out you were pregnant, the nausea started, and seriously, fuck the person who named it morning sickness. It is more like every moment of the day sickness. Brushing your teeth sickness. Smelling someone’s coffee sickness. The world currently is awash with a riot of smells that grossly offend your olfactory senses.

Returning to the small consulting office with the midwife, you see Pero’s head snap up in your direction, his hand instinctively reaching out to you as you enter. As you sit beside him, he curls you into his shoulder - pressing his lips into your hair.

“Okay, so here are some important dates and information for you. The hospital has already generated dates and times for your ultrasounds,” the midwife passes you an appointment card across the table as you notice Pero quickly tapping away at his phone calendar, “Keep your notes with you at all times as if you need any emergency attention, all your info will be there for medical professionals. Well, I look forward to seeing you in these corridors in a couple weeks for your scan. Any questions, please do get in touch.”

Still buried in Pero’s side, you walk into the neon lit corridor away from the kindly midwife. His fingers lazily stroke your arm as you clutch the plastic folder of notes to your chest.

“Querida, I need you to come out of your head and talk to me. I know you’re struggling and it isn’t too late if you want to change your mind,” Pero’s voice gently hums in your ear.

“I can’t find the words.”

✪✪✪✪✪

The elephant in the room, or rather your womb, hasn’t changed since your initial appointment. At least today, you get to see the alien invader. Sitting in the hard plastic chairs of the ultrasound waiting area, your fingers are entwined with Pero’s - him communicating with you via a form of loving Morse code - tiny squeezes and taps telling you how much he loves and cares for you.

The technician comes out of their room and briefly nods in your direction for you to follow them. After clarifying some details, they ask you to jump up onto the examination table, “Okay, so according to your notes, you should be roughly twelve weeks now so I will be doing a trans abdominal ultrasound scan. Can you pull your top up and tuck the waistband of your trousers into your knickers, please?”

You flinch as the gel is applied to your tummy but the chill you expected never comes, “Oh! That’s warm - I was expecting it to be cold like in the films.”

“No expense spared in the NHS,” the technician winks at you. “We have gel bottle warmers - it’s the little things.”

Pero, who barely let go of your hand to sort your clothes out,is holding it tightly once again. His arm is resting upon the pillow behind your head as his fingers tenderly play with your hair. Nodding at the sonographer, he grunts, “What are we going to see today?”

“All being well,” a flush of cold runs through you at those three words. You’ve spent so long coming to terms with your decision to keep this pregnancy that you haven’t even considered that it might not have progressed in an expected manner.

“All being well, this is mainly a dating scan. So we check that the dates from your LMP match with the size and development of the embryo. We also look at the Nuchal translucency, which we analyse for Down Syndrome. It’s also to make sure that the embryo is growing in the right place and to see how many babies your partner is carrying,” the technician kindly explains with a grin that quickly drops when they see the fierce look of protection upon Pero’s face.

“Are you ready?” you nod in the direction of the technician, “Okay, so this might be a bit uncomfortable as I have to press quite hard and I know your bladder is full.”

As the probe passes over your tummy, your eyes move from the masked face of the technician to the screen to your right. Suddenly, their hand stops. “There you go.”

There is a something on the screen.

A definite something.

A something with arms, legs, a tummy and a head.

A something that has a flicker deep within their chest.

“Dios mío. Vamos a tener un hijo Oh my god, we’re going to have a baby,” Pero gasps - his face full of awe and wonder, “Look what your body has made, hermosa. It has taken a grain of sand and created a pearl. Oh my clever girl!”

A watery, teary laugh spills from your lips as you stare at the wriggling alien upon the screen - its limbs stretching and curling up, albeit the movements too tiny for you to feel yet, “Look what we made.”

“It’s all looking good here,” the technician says with a smile, “From these measurements and the dates you’ve given, you’re looking at a Spring baby - 21st of April. New beginnings and all that. You’re measuring at 12 weeks exactly right now and the baby is measuring roughly the same size as a passion fruit.”

A snort comes from Pero, “That’s apt.”

“Would you like a couple of photos? I’ve managed to get one where it looks like your baby is waving,” the technician asks as they hand you some tissue to wipe the gel off.

Pero wordlessly raises his eyebrows at you to check as you nod at the technician - tears streaming down your face, “Yes please. Do we pay for them at the front desk?”

“Yeah. We will see you in a couple of months for your twenty week scan. Congratulations to you both,” the technician reaches out, putting their hand upon your shoulder as they pass you the prints.

Walking out of the room in an awestruck silence, you thread your fingers through Pero’s as the pair of you walk silently through the brightly lit corridors of the hospital towards the exit. As the summery air hits you, you turn into Pero’s chest and sob.

“Hey, mi amor, what’s going on?” Pero envelops you in his arms.

“Everything.” Your legs feel like jelly beneath you as thoughts race through your head at 100 miles an hour.

Pero gently guides you to a nearby bench that is free from smokers, brushing at the surface before letting you sit down. An arm instantly snakes around your slightly thickened waist and you slump into his side - relieved to have somewhere stable to rest before continuing your journey.

“Talk to me, hermosa,” his voice soothes into your ear, “I know my default is to want to fix things but if you need me to just listen, I can attempt to do that too.”

“I’m so scared. Everything is swimming inside my head,” you splutter tearfully, “Like when you see everyone in films and in books, they’re instantly over the moon that they’re having a baby- even if like us, it wasn’t exactly planned.”

You spin towards him - taking his hands in yours, “And, this isn’t me regretting my decision to keep it. I just thought I’d feel different. I mean, aren’t you meant to feel a massive rush of love when you see your baby? ‘Cos all I felt was relief that there was a baby there and the whole thing wasn’t this psychosomatic acid trip.

“It’s too early to feel any flutters and for just over a week, I’ve not had any sickness. I don’t feel as tired, my boobs are bruised from where I’m constantly poking them to see if they’re still sore and that’s fucking scary because what if…” Your hands fly to your face to cover the next onslaught of tears.

“My love, I wish you spoke to me more. I know I said I’d listen and not try to fix it but there’s one bit I can explain as I know it from Gloria,” he smoothes a piece of hair behind your ear before continuing, “So whilst the lack of sickness can mean that things aren’t progressing, they can also mean that the placenta has taken over.

“Gloria was terrified of the same thing whilst she was pregnant with Esteban - apparently, she had Mama and Antonio ringing all the early pregnancy units in Andalucía until they found one that would do an early scan to check everything was fine. And now look,” Pero pulls his phone from his pocket to pull up a picture of his nephew, “Look at my preciosidad!”

The sobs rebuild themselves in your lungs at seeing the soft as butter expression that melts across Pero’s face as he regards the squishy rolls of the baby upon his screen. Rivers of snot and tears diverge across your face that no tissue or sleeve would be strong enough to withstand.

“Mierda, I was trying to make you feel better and I’ve made you cry harder,” through your tear-filled eyes, you see his forehead furrow.

Tugging the back of his neck towards you, your foreheads clash awkwardly as you pull him into a hug, “Eres mi media naranja, mi cielito. You’re my better half, my dear. You do make everything better. It’s just bloody hormones.”

Pero’s laughter explodes into the hospital car park - making several other people turn to see where the juxtaposed guffaw emanated from. Using his thumbs, he wipes your tears onto his jeans, before leaning in to kiss you.

His lips gently transfer the saltiness of your tears to yours, before pulling away slightly, “I love that you remember my abuelo’s phrase. However I am not sure that I could be described as anyone’s better anything.”

“But I’m not either. Just glad we’re each other’s half orange.”

✪✪✪✪✪

A month later, you’ve flown out to the Andalusian coast to celebrate Jimena’s 50th birthday with Pero and your mum - Nana firmly and safely ensconced in a local kennels and unable to break anymore sofas (or collarbones as she has to your poor mum). Despite your trying to convince Pero that having a baby is a pretty strong thing to do, he has decided that it is the only thing he will allow you to do. Every bag is swept from your arms and there’s a part of you that’s a little surprised that he hasn’t started feeding you.

“Oh, there’s my bag,” your Mum turns to you, “Would you be able to grab it for me sweetheart? I don’t think I can manage to pull it from the conveyor belt with my arm like this.”

“Of cour…”

“No, I will get it,” Pero growls, “You need to rest.”

“Why would you…?” your mum looks utterly confused by Pero’s abruptness as you shoot him daggers from over her shoulder.

“Sorry, let me help you,” his dark eyelashes flutter hard as Pero considers how he almost gave the secret away.

Having gathered all the luggage, Pero continues to fuss around making your mum sidle up to you, “Are you ok? He��s treating you like you’re made from glass.”

Do you want to tell her in the middle of Seville airport? Is that how she should find out that you’re pregnant? You haven’t meant to keep it a secret, but every time you try to say the words, your mouth turns to wool and the words dry up. You’ve always had a close relationship since it’s only ever been the two of you but the thought of telling her this feels utterly overwhelming.

Just nodding and looping your arm through hers, you head towards the arrivals gate. Once through customs, you see the perfectly presented Gloria, Pero’s older and much beloved sister waiting with your nephew perched upon her hip as he twirls strands of her hair between his stubby toddler fingers. On spotting Pero and you, Esteban squeals delightedly in his mum’s ear, wriggling himself free from her arms and speed toddling to be adored by the pair of you.

With Esteban up high upon Pero’s shoulders, Gloria hugs you tightly - kissing you on the cheek- before stepping back. Her head tilts as her narrowed eyes drift down to your tummy, “Are you…?” Pero shoots her a look, which thankfully Gloria comprehends as she strokes your arm, “I think we have a lot to catch up on, mi hermana.

“Tú y yo necesitamos charlar, hermanito You and I need a chat, little brother,” You can’t help but giggle at the apprehension on Pero’s face as his big sister’s finger wags in his face, “Vamos, let’s go home. Esteban, ven aquí.”

✪✪✪✪✪

“How far along are you?” Gloria’s hand excitedly reaches out to stroke your tummy as you stand together, making Esteban’s lunch.

“Seventeen and a bit weeks. ‘Ría, I’m so sorry- we wanted to tell you all in person rather than via Zoom,” you quietly try to explain.

Gloria’s face burns with a fierce joy as she hugs you again, “You are forgiven just this once. I’m so happy for you both and I will finally be an aunty. Listen, use Esteban as a shield until you are ready to tell everyone, as that’s obviously a baby bump you’re hiding under that floaty dress and not a food tummy.”

The love you get from Pero’s family is immense. From the moment he brought you home - only two weeks after meeting him - they accepted you into their fold. You became an additional daughter to Jimena and Pablo, and another sister to Elisa and Gloria. Their family home has always been a complete juxtaposition to the quiet home you grew up in - one filled with chaos, noise and love with people spilling out of every room.

As much as Pero loves hard, you can see where he gets it from. Jimena is everyone’s favourite taskmaster, mission maker and font of knowledge - organising chores, education, food and fun in a similar manner to a drill sergeant - as she not only brought up her three but also the gaggle of local cousins, waifs and strays whose parents work full time. She always ensures that each of them is always fed, loved and brought back into line by her too. As the older kids got big enough, they were expected to muck in equally.

And where Jimena is the larger-than-life local mother to everyone, Pablo - Pero’s dad - is the complete opposite. The taciturn side of your boyfriend’s nature is from his papa - preferring to offer the spotlight to his wife. The workaholic part is also from him too as all you’ve seen Pablo do is work. Work at his job in the local council, work at fixing up their house and working at sleeping so that he doesn’t drop off in the middle of another dreary public servant meeting. Whilst around the house, he always has a child sitting quietly next to him watching as he fixes something but if they bring him a book, he instantly drops whatever he is doing and reads to them - his eyes sparkling as he creates silly voices for the characters.

As a result of their upbringing, Gloria, Pero and Elisa aren’t just a trio of biological siblings but rather three of hundreds. Trying to walk quickly up the roads near the Tovar’s home is impossible as everyone has to stop and say hello, which is highly amusing to watch your grumpy boyfriend attempting to socialise with others. A series of gruff grunts and solemn faced nods to the adults but it’s with the children that he comes into his own.

Children naturally radiate towards Pero. There is a softness they see that adults fail to read - their eyes blinded by prejudice against that scar and his scowl. Children instantly see Pero for who he is - the kindest, softest man hidden behind a tough outer shell for the adult world. When the two of you return home, he is regularly press ganged into football matches, teddy bear picnics and epic sword fights against imaginary monsters. You spend hours watching him play - looking up to occasionally try to pry himself away, only to be pulled ever deeper into the intricate storylines by a pair of puppy dog eyes.

There is no doubt in your mind that he will make a fantastic daddy to your little one. The future father Pero will be a firefighter to your child’s troubles and a light to guide them upon their journey. He will be their cheerleader and defender, forever ready to laugh and play.

“Sweetheart, are you sure you’re ok? You keep zoning out. Have you been sleeping ok? Eating your veg?” your mum’s eyes search your face to try and find a sign of what’s bothering you.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Mummy. You don’t need to worry,” you smile as you pat her non-injured arm.

“Hah! I’ll never stop worrying about you - no matter how big you get. It’s the joy of being a parent,” your mum strokes your hair as she walks towards Jimena’s outspread arms.

She beckons you over next - Gloria taking her chance to walk between the pair of you, thrusting a dozy Esteban into your arms as you take your first step forward. With one arm around your neck, he buries his head into your shoulder - pretty much the mirror image of his uncle as he sleeps draped over you. Jimena narrows her eyes at her daughter, “Hey tonta, how am I meant to properly hug my other daughter if you throw your child at her?”

A series of looks pass between Pero, Gloria and you. A small nod from Pero has Gloria take a now slightly peeved Esteban from your arms.

“There’s something we need to tell you all,” Pero says as he slides his hand into yours.

An air of quiet perplexion falls upon the room as you finally find your voice, “I’m pregnant.”

An eruption of squeals, hugs and kisses fill the air as Pero and you have your cheeks pinched red with congratulations from your family members. Both mothers are in tears, Gloria is kissing smiles into Esteban’s hair, Elisa is bouncing up and down with joy and Pablo- he’s just gazing at you both proudly with shimmering eyes.

“How far along are you, preciosa?” Jimena asks, taking your hands.

“Seventeen and a half weeks,” you grimace slightly, concerned by how both she and your mum might react.

“What? But, you’re almost halfway through! Why are you two only telling us now?”

“Mama, we wanted to tell you in person. Not via the phone or Zoom,” Pero moves from your side to envelop his mum in a hug.

“My baby is having a baby,” your mum gasps between rattly breaths, “Sweethearts - why was this all a big secret?”

For want of a better way to communicate as your throat constricts once again, you shrug before balling your hands into your eyes to block the water’s pathways. Pero curls you into his chest and for a moment you shut out the noises of the room - comforting yourself by inhaling the scent of him as you bury your face into the fabric of his shirt. Whilst your face is hidden, the room thins out around you until all that remain are your parents and Pero.

Eventually, you pry your tear streaked face from Pero, although he keeps his hands upon you the entire time, “This isn’t how I expected this all to happen. It wasn’t planned or anything,” you utter to the concerned room, “I mean, that’s not to say I’ve never wanted to be a parent as I’ve always seen it as something that will eventually happen but not anytime soon. And now it is and I hate that there’s a part of me that feels like the baby has taken my choice in the matter away.

“And I know I have choices. I know I don’t have to go through with this pregnancy, but the baby is fucking perfect and I already love it so much. I just feel like I’m already failing at being a mum before our baby is even born.”

“Oh sweetheart, if you’d only said something. What you’ve just said, is exactly how I felt when I found out I was pregnant with you,” your mum confides, “I was younger than you, I spent my days drinking whiskey, triple espressos, riding motorbikes, teaching hot yoga and eating a lot of brie - all of which changed when I saw the plus sign on the stick.”

“Sí, I wasn’t anywhere near prepared for becoming a mother either, was I Pablo?” Jimena turns to her husband.

“No,” Pablo’s eyes crinkle as he chuckles in response to her question, “No, we were quite young when Gloria graced us with her presence - we weren’t married, so lots of raised eyebrows from family and friends at the time but I would say 31 years later, you did pretty amazingly.”

“Should have said that before now, tonto,” she pulls a face at her husband, “I think there is very much an image of what a mother should be - someone with their shit together, someone who has everything planned and for whom the baby is their main objective - their total be all and end all. To be honest, that’s total bullshit.”

A hearty chuckle comes from your mum across the room, “I couldn’t have put it better, Jimena. You don’t have to become all consumed with being a parent - it doesn’t replace your identity. It’s just another facet of being human.”

“I just feel like I’m a bit of a failure for not rushing to the rooftops to proclaim my joy.” The relief you feel is palpable as you finally acknowledge those feelings that have been bubbling away since that initial test.

“Mija, you do pregnancy your way - you’ve never been a shout it from the rooftops type,” Jimena smiles, “Let my boy wait on you hand and foot -as he better have been - and just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Pregnancies and babies are all different - as is the person going through them. You do you and if anyone gives you even the slightest funny look, you send them my way.”

“So this is why your clothes have all been a bit baggy…” your mum thinks aloud, “Do you feel brave enough for us to have a look at the bump?”

Pero strokes your hair, tucking a piece behind your ear before leaning forward, “You don’t have to - it’s up to you.”

“No. I think I’m finally ready,” as the words escape your lips, you blink knocking weighty, happy tears from your lashes. Pulling the skirt of your dress tight behind your back, the outline of your bump is clear for everyone to see. Jimena’s hands clasp in a wordless prayer as Pablo pats his son on the back.

Your mum hugs you one armedly, “Oh baby, it feels like yesterday that I was looking at my bump that nurtured your perfect self and now look at yours. I feel like I might explode with happiness.”

At that, Esteban toddles back into the kitchen, signing his hunger at the gathered adults. You sweep him up in your arms and throw open the fridge in search of some food for the hungry boy - a seeming speciality of the Tovar’s. Jimena sneaks up behind you as you prepare him a plate of fruit, “You’ve got this, you know. It’s more natural to you than you realise.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Laughter and chatter fills the air along the multiple dinner tables of varying heights that are lined up with military accuracy through the street in front of the Tovar’s home. Their surfaces are burgeoning with a thousand dishes, breadcrumbs and splodges of wine upon the once crisp white tablecloths - the remnants of the veritable feast for Jimena’s birthday. A multitude of mismatched chairs groan beneath the weight of full, happy tummies as the revellers enjoy the late afternoon sun of the sobremesa, sitting back amongst the wreckage of crumpled napkins and half-eaten desserts to enjoy the gossiping, jokes and love of each other’s company.

When Pero finally breaks away from the football tournament that has started alongside, he grabs a delicate etched glass next to your plate, filling it with singsong ice before taking a much needed gulp. A small trickle evades his mouth and as you reach up to brush it away, the corners of his mouth curl further. Pero catches your hand as you go to take it away, kissing your wrist then leaning forward to whisper in your ear, “Fancy a walk, hermosa?”

As you nod in agreement, your eyes sparkle excitedly at the thought of some much needed alone time with your boyfriend. Some time away from all the tías, their prodding fingers and old wives tales about pregnancy - all of the well meaning stares at your virtually non-existent bump trying to work out the gender of the alien growing inside you. Jimena, Gloria and Elisa have been fending them off making excuses as to why they need you to help. Well, Gloria and Elisa are doing that. Jimena just growls at them to back off.

Mopping his brow on a used napkin, Pero waves at his mama before signing over the heads of the tías that you were going for a walk. The wink that Jimena sends back suggests that she's happy that you make this small break for freedom. Pero holds his arm out for you to join him but as you wrap your fingers around his bicep to stand up, a tío comes over and starts to harass him as to when he will ask you to marry him. Thankfully, Pablo comes into his own and diverts the attention of the drunken sun-kissed man by talking about the prices of this year’s Rioja.

The noise gradually ebbs away as you slowly walk away from the party, the clatter of revellers and music exchanging for the distant calls of gulls and gently lapping waves. Reaching the path on the alcantilados, you both make your way down the narrow footpath towards the caleta below. As the rugged rock makes way for softer sand, your feet are grateful for the change in terrain. The cove at the foot of the cliff has sand that is the most gentle hue of gold - almost earthen and muted making it the humblest star of the scene if it wasn’t for the late September sunlight causing it to glisten and glow.

This is the beach where Pero spent his childhood - days of trying to dam the sea by building walls of sand, building dens of driftwood and uncovering the treasures hidden within the rock pools. You see him revert to that little boy as soon as his feet hit the sand - shells are squirrelled away in his pockets, along with what could be record breaking skimming stones and after knighting him with a polished piece of sea debris, you get shyly crowned with a tiara of finely woven seaweed.

The siren song of the tide calls to you as you walk ever closer to the sea lace edged shore as Pero pokes curiously at a marooned jellyfish. With your shoes long since abandoned to enjoy the remaining warmth through the soles of your feet, you step into the oncoming waves where the water cools and sticks the gauzy fabric of your dress to your skin - the oil of the food and dry, dusty heat of the day being rinsed away by the salty water. You keep walking until the water reaches your middle, cradling your tiny bump.

“How are you doing, mi sirena my mermaid?” a gruff voice questions from the shoreline.

Turning your head towards Pero, a breeze catches your hair, making it ribbon across your face. He walks a little way into the water with his hand outstretched towards you to join him. As you wade back through the water, you see a tic of hunger flash across his face, “What’s going on, guapo?”

A small smile plays upon his lips, “You’re so incredibly beautiful. I didn’t think it was possible for you to become more beautiful but everyday, as your body changes - watching your breasts and tummy swell with my baby it’s hard to keep my hands off you.”

“And my bum,” you add, grinning.

Pero frowns slightly at this, “What about your bum?”

“My bum is growing too.”

“I have no complaints,” to prove his point, he drops to his knees in the gently foaming sea and bites your bum to punctuate his sentence.

“You know the caves in the cliffs used to be everyone’s make out spot as a teenager,” he adds grinning.

“Are you trying to rediscover your youth?”

“Damn straight!” Pero virtually scrambles across the sand as he pulls you over to one of the larger caves that carve their being into the rocky monoliths.

On hearing your rapid breathing, he has the decency to look slightly ashamed, “Let’s see if we can change the reason for being out of breath, hermosa.”

He suddenly takes you by your hips, pinning you with his own against the rocky outcrop - your tummy just carving the smallest space between the pair of you. As you stare at him, he smiles at you, running his hands up your arms before placing each one around his neck. You take advantage of this by stroking the glossy dark curls at the base of his hairline, enjoying how he keens and softens into your touch.

Pero’s eyes do not falter from your face once as his large, warm hands find your thickened waist. His breathing starts to match yours as he leans in closer, brushing a soft kiss against your lips but just as you go to deepen the kiss, he pulls slightly away.

“Don’t you fucking dare stop.”

You tug the back of his head towards you, causing your lips to crash together clumsily before you find that well known rhythm that your lips have danced many times before. His fingers claw at the material of your dress, desperately searching for traction upon your skin, trying to haul the soaked material up and away from your body as it sticks and clings to every curve. Pero groans inside your mouth when his hands finally find the soft flesh of your thighs. Pressing his weight into you, he pulls away from your mouth to catch your bottom lip in his teeth before pressing sweet kisses along the most sensitive point of your neck.

Sandwiching his thigh between yours, you fight the urge to grind down upon it.

“You feel so warm,” he breathes into your ear as your hands run up and down, stroking his broad back through his shirt as you pull yourself into him.

Groaning at the contact of your body with his, he runs his hands up your thighs blindly until he reaches your bum cheek and squeezes. You curl one of your legs around him so that he’s now holding you up against the uneven surface of the cave wall. Your hands find his face as his lips find yours in a passionate flurry of desire.

“All I can feel is how hot you are against my cock,” Pero growls into your mouth.

“They’re not just soaked from the sea either,” you breathlessly pant back.

“I want you so badly,” he mumbles thickly into your neck as the tip of his cock presses through the confines of his trousers into your soft, wet cunt.

Ripping your knickers from your sides in one move, you then hear his zip being lowered. One hand releases you as he drags the head of his cock against the sensitive soaked folds of your pussy.

Pero checks with you before going any further, “Is this what you want?”

“Fuck me, Pero,” as you growl those words at him, his cock pushes up and into you.

You can’t help but groan as he bottoms out in you, fucking you to the languid beat of the moon guided waves. After a few thrusts with your back against the wall, Pero slides out and within one smooth movement, he spins you around, placing your hands upon the craggy rocks and slams into you again. Sliding his hands under your dress, he scratches his nails up your spine until Pero’s hands come to rest upon your shoulders.

Within one smooth movement, he pulls your shoulders sharply upwards until you are completely upright, back flush to the warmth of his chest. Pero tugs at the top of your dress downwards until he finds your breasts, which he quickly releases from their satin prison. You realise that initially, he’s just watching your tits bounce as he thrusts - guiding one his hands from your waist to your breast you enjoy the groan he releases as he squeezes your nipple tightly, rolling it between his fingers. As you do this, his other hand lets go of your hair but its path surprises you. Instead of reaching for your other breast, it snakes down to your tummy. Tracing lazy patterns against the taut skin, he strokes and cradles his creation within you. The tenderness of his touch is in stark contrast to how wickedly he slams into you.

Pero’s teeth graze against your neck as the hand that was groping at your breast, slides down the front of your body, gliding effortlessly between your folds. Teasing your sensitive bud, he settles into a gently pleasing rhythm - working in harmony as your pleasure soars towards a delicious crescendo. You cry his name - the cave calling it back to you - as your fingers twist and coil in his hair.

With shorter, sharper thrusts, he barely withdraws from you as he chases his high - your echoey cries that sing his praises, brings him closer to his peak. As he finally releases inside you - filling your warm wet cunt with his sticky seed- he grabs your waist with that final rut. Beneath his fingers, a strange sensation bubbles through your tummy. Pero must have felt it too as he presses his fingers deeper into your flesh.

“Hermosa, was that your tummy rumbling or was that what I think it was?” Pero’s voice fills your ear with awe.

Tears fill your eyes as the realisation that the feeling of drunken butterflies in your tummy was in fact your baby making itself known. A drip of water trickles down your shoulder. You look up to the craggy ceiling to track its origin but on hearing the choppy breathing accompanying the droplets, you disentangle your bodies, turning to face him.

Cradling Pero’s head into your shoulder, you stroke his hair - scratching lightly into the curls as you rock him in your arms.

“I’m sorry, mi sol,” he mumbles thickly between sobs into your shoulder, “it had been a hypothetical baby until feeling it just now. I know I saw it move upon the screen but obviously it’s not my body that’s doing all the hard work of growing a human.”

“Shhhh, mi corazón. Just let those tears flow - I know you’ve been trying to hold me afloat since we found out,” you soothe into his dark curls, “You might pretend to be a machine to others but man cannot run on logic alone so let go. I’m here.”

Pero slowly pulls back up, rubbing the heels of his hands into his drenched lashes - dragging a deep breath into his lungs as he straightens up. Taking your hand, he guides you out of the cave, past the tufts of marram grass and back on to the dunes where you tug his hand to sit with you upon the dying warmth of the sand. He rests his head on your thigh as he nuzzles into your tummy - your salt patterned dress absorbing the dampness from his cheeks.

Listening to the soundtrack of the waves, you both watch the theatre playing out in the heavens above you. The sun is starting to set in the sky with vibrant golds, purples and oranges fighting their way across the most exquisite artist's canvas. It is almost as if the final rays are destined to create a work of art - one only offered to those who are open to capturing precious moments in their soul.

✪✪✪✪✪

Where the fuck is he?

“Are you ready?” the technician asks, nodding in your direction.

They must have caught how your brow furrows and your eyes flicker to and from the entrance as the sonographer walks over to the receptionist, beckoning you over.

“I think my ten o’ clock’s partner is running late - could you ensure that they are brought into room four, please?” they kindly inform the clerk.

“He’ll be the one barrelling through the door, scowling and growling. He looks scary but it’s just nerves,” you shake your head, “He’s stuck in Central as a meeting overran and then there’s been a signal failure on the tube.”

Relief floods your system as the secretary nods their understanding. You give the door one last look to see if there is any sudden appearance of Pero but other than a heavily pregnant person being ushered through by their partner, there is still no sign of him.

You try to buy a little more time by asking to use the loo. It wasn’t entirely a lie as between the weight of the baby upon your bladder and the bottle of water you’d been nervously sipping whilst you sat in the waiting room, you definitely needed to go.

“Is it ok if I use the bathroom before you start? I’m sorry- I know I should have gone before.”

The technician smiles kindly, “Of course you can. Turn right down the corridor and the third door on the left.”

Walking down the corridor, you keep repeating the instructions to yourself. Turn right down the corridor and the third door on the left. First door on the left. Second door on the left. Third door on the left - aha!

If peeing could be an Olympic sport, you feel there’s a chance you could be amongst the medalists. Whilst sitting on the loo, you also ensure that you read all the posters informing you about hotlines for domestic violence, substance addiction and support for debt management. When washing your hands, you follow the guidelines to the letter - as you turn on the tap - clearing your throat in the empty bathroom - you start singing Happy Birthday as you read down the poster.

Wet your hands.

Apply enough soap.

Rub your hands together.

Use one hand to rub the back of the other and clean between your fingers. Do the same with the other hand.

Rub the backs of fingers against your palms.

Rub the tips of your fingers on the palms of the other hand - swap and do the other side.

Rinse your hands with water.

Dry your hands completely with a disposable towel.

Use the towel to switch off the tap.

Come on, Pero. Please be there now.

As you re-enter the room, you see the technician tapping in the information into the machine as you watch the letters and numbers that form your name and date of birth appear on the screen. They look up, smiling sweetly before pulling the curtain around the bed to offer you some privacy as you sort out your clothes and clamber onto the table.

A sharp rap at the door makes both you and the sonographer jump.

“Do you reckon that’ll be your grumpy boyfriend?” they laughingly ask as they spin their chair across the floor to answer the knock.

Please be him. Please be him.

As the door is unlocked, you look up to see the broad height of Pero filling the doorway - chest heaving, hair ratty from sweat, huffing hot breaths between parted lips, shirt half untucked and loosened tie askew. In three purposeful strides, he’s cleared the room, standing by the head of the bed to press a deep, spine-tingling kiss into your lips. It doesn’t seem to matter when or where he kisses you, he always manages to take your breath away with each one.

“Lo siento, cariño. Perdóname,” Pero whispers gruffly in your ear, making the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, “I didn’t think I was going to make it. Monsters blocking my way at every turn.”

“But you’re here now,” you console, mopping an errant trail of sweat from his brow, “Thank you for trying so hard. We haven’t started yet.”

“Are you ready?” The sonographer asks, the bottle of gel poised to be squirted onto your tummy.

You nod, beaming at them as they squirt the warm lubricant onto your growing bump. Positioning the wand on your tummy with the screen tilted towards them, the sonographer moved it around a few times before tilting the screen back towards the pair of you.

“Okay, let’s see what we’ve got,” They turn up the volume on the side of the machine and the room is filled with a sound that beats any music you’ve ever heard before. A tiny tympanic metronome ticking away.

You close your eyes and allow the sound to wash through every inch of you as your heart swells with love at the sound your body has created. A light brush of your cheek causes you to reopen them to see the proud, tear-pricked eyes of Pero gazing down lovingly at you. Another softer kiss is pressed into your mouth before you look over towards the screen again.

“Baby’s awake,” the technician announces, “I think you’ll have a lively one on your hands as of right now, it’s almost as if they are trying to bounce off your uterine walls. Can you feel it?”

“Yeah, we first felt movement a couple of weeks ago,” you smile at the memory.

“Your placenta is in the perfect position for you to feel those early kicks. I’m not surprised you’re feeling the baby move so early. Would you like to find out the gender of the baby?”

Checking in wordlessly with Pero, whose face is painted with a soppy sweet smile, you turn back to the sonographer, “No thank you. Just glad to see that it’s a baby - it doesn't really matter what is between its legs.”

“Great stuff. Okay, so I’ll just talk you through what I’m looking at on the screen and what the measurements I’m taking mean,” the technician started pointing to things on the screen, looking back to check that you both understand, “Here we have baby’s head - you can see them yawning here. Hmmm, maybe they’ve finally worn themselves out and I can get some decent measurements now.”

You stop looking at the screen to drink in the rapturous look upon Pero’s face. His face losing the gruff grimace it usually carries as a shield against the world- he just stares at the screen with his mouth agape - the corners slightly curling up in the most innocent of smiles. Blinking hard, he reverently chuckles in your ear, “Pobrecito has my nose.”

“I love your nose. Well, until you decide to snore,” you wink, “It’s going to be in stereo soon isn’t it?”

✪✪✪✪✪

Manoeuvring your way through your narrow hallway has become something of the Krypton Factor - a labyrinthine puzzle that at eight and half months pregnant, you don’t have the energy to solve. It feels as though, if you stood sideways on with your back against one wall, your tummy would touch the other side.

“Fucking coats! How the fuck do we have so many fucking coats when it’s only two of us?” You grumble as you squeeze yourself through the hallway causing several to fall to the floor, from where you will certainly not be picking them up.

“Bienvenida a casa, querida,” You hear Pero mutter beneath his breath.

“What was that, darling?” you sarcastically shout back.

“I was just asking how your last day at work was, my love,” you look up from the chaos your tummy has caused to find Pero crossing his arms and leaning into the doorway of your living room, a mischievous grin upon his face.

“What’ve you been up to?” You narrow your eyes at the smile - how dare he find anything remotely amusing as you lug around his bloody heffalump of a child.

Pero’s dark curls shake back and forth at you, “Nothing malicious, querida - dinner’s ready when you are.”

Walking into the bedroom, the sight takes your breath away. The bedside crib has been put up and is ready to be fixed to the side of the bed with the blanket Jimena crocheted for the baby on top. Your hospital bag is packed and poised silently by the bottom of the crib. Mountainous piles of baby clothes bought by your family and friends have all been washed and folded away into baskets on top of the chest of drawers. You sit on the edge of the bed where your pjs have been laid out on the bed in readiness for your arrival home.

“Are you coming thr… Oh querida, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” clasping his large hand around the back of your head, he pulls you side on into his neck, “I just wanted to make you feel like you could totally rest until this baby decides to grace us with its presence. Maybe even read a book from your comfort pile of things to read?”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so grumpy,” you swipe at your eyes with your sleeves, “Everything hurts - my ankles feel so swollen that it almost feels like I’m walking in jelly with the amount of water retention there. I want to give an eviction notice to the baby because they are massively outgrowing their housing. I’ve just felt fidgety and grumpy all day - I don’t know what’s wrong with me. And I almost peed myself today as I didn’t realise that the loo lid had been put down in the bathroom at work as I can’t see anything below my boobs and belly.”

“You have had to put up with my grumpiness for what is it, four and a half years,” he strokes the saltiness away from your cheeks, “And I wasn’t pregnant for any of that. Just a grumpy old fool.”

He places a kiss into your hair before breaking away from your body to make a backrest from one of your pregnancy pillows. Helping you up from the bed, Pero lifts your jumper over your head and helps you pull your jersey trousers down before balling up and throwing them into the washing basket.

You pretend to give him a football commentary on getting them into the basket, “He shoots! He scores!”

Patting your tummy, he winks before adding, “I have previous…”

You hit him on the shoulder as he playfully tries to jump out of your reach, “Where do you want me, tonto?”

“Thought you’d never ask, hermosa,” Pero winks at you, to which your eyes roll so hard you almost see your optic nerve, “Get yourself as comfy as you can up here. Hey, I said as you can - I know you’re struggling, hermosa.”

Huffing and puffing your way clumsily to the middle of the bed, you nestle into the pillows Pero has arranged at the top of the bed. Squeezing out some of the lavender and rose cream from your bedside table, he takes one of your feet in his hands - rubbing the top from your toes towards your leg where he makes tiny delicious circles around your ankle. You cannot help but groan indecently as he digs his thumbs into the soles of your feet, beneath your toes.

“This is perhaps the one thing I will take away from those fucking awful Antenatal classes. How to create exquisite sounds from your partner through their feet,” Pero chuckles, smiling up at you through his eyelashes.

A sudden twinge in your tummy makes you jerk up with a start causing Pero to drop your foot in surprise, “Hermosa, are you okay? Braxton Hicks?”

“Yeah, I’m fine but no, that didn’t feel like a Braxton Hicks,” your nose scrunches as the sensation starts to subside, “It felt a bit more like period pain. I dunno, probably stood too much today and my body is complaining - either way, you’re slacking in your duties. Get back to work.”

“I’m doing this for five more minutes and then you’re eating dinner,” Pero wags his finger at you - to which you stick out your tongue and cross your eyes at him.

As he finishes up your other foot, you can’t help but smile at how his tongue pokes out between his teeth as he rubs his thumbs back and forth over your heel. Getting up, he wipes his hands on the towel hanging over the door before offering you a hand to your feet.

“Come on, let’s get some food in you,” he pats you on your bum as he nudges you in the direction of the dining table, “I made arroz al horno with lots of morcilla so you have lots of iron in you.”

“Mmm sounds good, although I’m not sure I have any room to spare even though my bump dropped yesterday,” you shout back towards the kitchen, kicking the inflated gym ball out of your way.

Ouch-

Another tightening that travels from your spine to the front of your tummy. Beneath your fingers, you feel your bump tighten and another dull ache spread through you. Looking at your watch, you realise that it’s been roughly five minutes since the first one.

Hmmm-

“You ok, cariño? You look deep in thought,” Pero places a heaped plate in front of you upon the table.

Nodding and grinning at him, you take a mouthful of food before half spitting it out as another ripples through your body.

“Querida, what is going on?” Pero’s eyes fill with concern, “Did I make it too spicy? I only put in a teaspoon of chilli flakes.”

“Just having some small twinges. Probably false labour pains,” you mention, loading up your fork with pork belly and rice.

Pero’s forehead furrows, his loaded fork poised at the side of his mouth, “How far apart?”

“Hah, never seen a forkful of food not make it to your mouth before,” you attempt to joke, dropping your teasing when you see the glower, “Roughly every five minutes but I’ve only had like three of them so it’s not time to do anything yet.”

“I’m going to ring the midwife,” Pero places his cutlery back down upon his plate, pushing his chair back from the table.

“Pero, you’re overreac…Oof!” the intensity of this one takes your breath away, making you grip the table edge until it starts to subside. “Yeah. Go ring the midwife.”

His face changes before your eyes - the concern is now mixed with a layer of excitement, as he bends over to kiss you deeply. You both take a moment just resting your foreheads against each other, Pero’s hands resting on your bump, as you muse, “You know, this might be the last time it’s just the two of us.”

✪✪✪✪✪

“Yes, labour has started but you’ve got a good while ahead of you yet, I’m afraid. You’re only 3.5cm dilated at the moment so the best idea is for you to go home, relax and try to sleep,” the midwife reassures you as she pats you on your shoulder. “When you start making a sound like you’re mooing or your waters go, come back and see us.”

Pero helps you pull your knickers back up after the exam and you can’t help but laugh and that’s it. You are giggling and contracting - desperately trying to hold your tummy as if a big laugh could suddenly expel your child. The midwife and Pero both look at you as if you’ve completely lost it so between contractions and cackles you manage to huff out, “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever put underwear on me and given the situation, it just really made me laugh!”

“Loquita,” Pero shakes his head, grinning as he slides your shoes back on.

“No, keep her laughing! Have sex if you feel up to it, lots of cuddling and go for a walk - it’ll all help that baby come Earth-side sooner,” the midwife recommends as they gather up your notes to hand them back to you.

As they whisk the curtain back, Pero leans in, tucking a bit of hair behind your ear, “You heard that - prescribed sex.”

You wallop him across his chest with the back of your hand, “Cheeky fucker.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Surrounded in a pile of pillows, you wriggle through the steadily increasing contractions - rubbing your tummy and breathing deeply. On your bedside table, Pero has laid out sweets, biscuits, a flask of tea and water. Everything except the loo, which you currently need. Doing an epic crocodile roll, you manage to spin yourself to a point where your feet hit the floor - now to just lift the top half of your body up.

“Do you need help, querida?” a voice thick with sleep mutters from the other side of the pillow nest.

“Just need a wee. Managed to get my legs down but am struggling to get my top half up.”

Pero rolls himself out of bed not too dissimilar to how you’re trying to get up. When awoken from a bleary eyed sleep, his long limbs remind you of a newborn foal with a similar amount of grace.

Having helped around the Tovar home with the endless amount of kids and when Jimena took in both hers and Pablo’s parents, Pero has a tremendous amount of time and patience for those who need him. As he gets you steady on your feet, a massive amount of pressure ripples across your tummy making you gasp and lean forward into him. As the contraction fades, you realise that you are both standing in a small puddle of water.

“Shit. Did I just pee myself? I am so sorry.”

“Hermosa, that doesn’t smell like pee. I think we should head back to the hospital,” Pero scratches the hair at the base of your neck, “Even if it was, you have nothing to apologise about.”

“Can you help me change my jammies?”

“Of course, cielito,” as he turns towards the drawers another contraction unfurls itself and forces you to your knees, “Okay, um, mierda. Um, pyjamas, bag and car.”

Having helped you into a clean, dry pair of pjs between contractions, Pero grabs your bag and the car keys and heads towards the front door to bring the car around. The door reopens only seconds later to the sounds of a cursing Spaniard.

“Pinche tonto del culo! Fucking idiot! Forgot my fucking shoes!”

✪✪✪✪✪

“Yup, 7.5cm. You have done so well to get this far at home for a first time mum,” the midwife grins at you.

“It hurts,” You breathlessly grimace through gritted teeth as your stomach twists and squeezes.

“Certainly smarts a bit, doesn’t it? But listen, afterwards there is so little you remember of this bit as otherwise, what idiot would do it again?” the midwife sets down their paperwork on the side, “I started running the water for the pool as soon as your partner rang through and it’s ready for you now, would you like to get in?”

You nod and feel Pero’s large, capable hands at the hem of your pj top, starting to peel them away from your sweat soaked skin. At the sensation of his fingers upon you, the tension seeps away from your body. Freeing you from your pyjamas, he gently guides you towards the water and albeit for the midwife, it might as well just be the two of you in that room.

Sinking into the water, the relief is almost instantaneous as gravity releases its clutches on you. Along with the gas and air, you feel yourself zoning out between the contractions. Pero quietly sits on the side of the pool, stroking whatever part he can reach of you as your body coils, twists and turns with each contraction.

✪✪✪✪✪

Getting into the pool caused everything to slow down. For three hours, you’d remained at a stubborn 8cm - steadily becoming more furious with your body for not progressing and putting that goddamn baby in your arms. The most recent check left you sobbing salty tears of frustration into the water around you.

“I have an idea - feel free to say no but I can see how much you relax when Pero touches you. What if he got into the water with you?” the midwife gently suggests.

A snotty nod from you has Pero stripping off his Henley and PJ bottoms and sliding in the water behind you. His arms wrap around you, giving you something solid to anchor on to.

“I’ve got you, hermosa. My beautiful, clever girl. I know you can do this.

“Your mum and my mama are currently watching films in your mum’s campervan out in the car park. Last time I checked on them, they were watching Casablanca and blaming their teary eyes on the love story. But I know that’s not true. They’re in here with you. Helping our baby be born.”

With those tender words uttered in your ear and the rock solid warmth of Pero against your back, something shifts inside of you. From your mouth what can only be described as a bellow breaks forth. You catch a massive grin break out across the midwife’s face, “Perfect, keep going Pero. Sweetheart, you’re transitioning. This is the last bit before you push.”

“Querida, I know I offered for you to catch up with a book in the supposed two weeks we thought we had but when the three of us go home, while you’re feeding the baby, I will read to you. We can all just get to know each other on our bed and instead of The Gruffalo, our baby can hear some magic realism instead.

“Remember how on the first night we met, you told me how you loved my constellation of freckles at the base of my throat? Well soon, we’ll get to know all the marks on our baby. Whether they have any stork kisses or birthmarks.”

✪✪✪✪✪

“¡Puje, mi cariño, puje! Push, my darling, push!”

You’re not entirely in the room as you use every last iota of energy to push your baby out. Pero’s and the midwife’s voices drift around you - in and out of focus as you travel up to the stars to collect your baby.

A hot, searing pain threatens to tear you in two as you hear the midwife’s calming words, “The head is almost out. Three more pushes and this baby will be in your arms.”

For the next five minutes you are almost stunned with the pain tearing through you. Physically and mentally, Pero supports and guides you in your ear, “Una vez más puje con fuerza, mi amor. One more big push, my love!”

With one final push, you roar, “GET IT OUT OF ME!”

Collapsing forward onto the side of the birthing tub, into your arm you whimper, “I can’t do this anymore.”

Then.

Then there is a baby crying.

Your baby is crying, clutched tightly in his daddy’s arms.

You’re not entirely sure who is crying louder - the father or his child who has just been born.

“You did it, mi amor,” Pero openly sobs as he passes you the only other piece of evidence from the broken sofa. Your baby.

A furious little boy is placed in your arms.His nose and the maker’s mark upon his lip are definitely his father’s but his eyes are yours.

“Hello baby. I’m your mami.”

✪✪✪✪✪

With all three of you dried off and some quick observations made of your son, your newly expanded family moves over to the double bed in the room. Your baby has only been held by Pero and you - the midwife unwilling to break that bond, only touching your son when absolutely necessary.

Of course, every touch of your new arrival is accompanied with a glower from Pero. In fact, you’ve noticed him frowning every time they touch you too. Even as she helped to deliver your placenta and checked for tears, you couldn’t help but giggle at the two furious Spanish boys - one howling as the other is scowling- across the room from you.

“Hermosa, I think he might be hungry,” Pero observes as he kisses your shoulder.

The midwife looks up from their paperwork, “Have you thought about how you will feed your baby?”

“I want to try breastfeeding,” you respond, “Not really sure where to start though.”

“I’ve finished here, so let’s try a breast crawl.”

You look over at Pero utterly perplexed, and the midwife adds, “Okay papi, I want you to place your baby on mami’s tummy. He should make his own way to the breast.”

Pero places the baby onto your still rounded stomach, just between your breasts - tummy to tummy, you watch as he starts nuzzling, licking and needling at your skin, desperately seeking out your nipple.

“He’s dribbling,” Pero grins proudly into the skin of your neck, “Just like his papa when it comes to food.”

“And boobs,” you chuckle as you kiss his forehead.

You both watch open-mouthed as your son mouths and wriggles his way over to your nipple - his mouth gradually opening wider and his head tilting towards it.

“Come on, chiquito. You can do it,” Pero cheers his son on quietly, “Cariño, he’s managed to squeeze some milk from you and is lapping it like a gatito.”

The midwife looks over and smiles, “That’s colostrum - it’s like full fat milk on steroids. Imagine the best milkshake from your favourite burger place with added vitamins. It replaces all the energy they lost as they deliver themselves.”

“Didn’t feel like he was helping,” you grumble.

A throaty chuckle vibrates in your hair, “You were incredible, mi reina. I’ve always known you were strong but that was incredible.”

And just like that, he latches. The strangest sensation flows through your breast - like a thousand tiny magnets have attracted the two of you together. It’s like a tapping sensation travelling through your nipple as he happily suckles from you, needling his minuscule fingers into your breast tissue.

You become aware of a trickling from your other breast, “Oh no, I’m leaking.”

“We can collect that, if you want? Daddy can then feed him later while you have a shower or sleep.” You nod gratefully at the midwife’s words, only looking up as the door shuts behind them.

“My brilliant girl. Look what you created. Sheer perfection,” Pero strokes the thick tuft of jet black hair upon the baby’s head, “Have you got any ideas about what we should name him?”

“I wondered if we should name him after your great grandad Javier, who fought against the Franco regime? The one that we found out fought alongside my Welsh great grandad.”

“Two farmers who fought fascists. A tremendous namesake and perhaps we could use your great grandpa's name - Dylan- as a middle name. Papá will be very proud,” he agrees as his lip trembles.

“Javier Dylan Tovar - that suits him perfectly,” as you mention his name, he disengages from your breast utterly milk-drunk with a sleepy, gassy smile upon his rosebud lips - his tongue still wiggling as if he was still feeding, “I think he likes it too.”

Pero brings his finger to turn your face towards him, tilting his head to kiss you deeply. As he pulls away, you hum with happiness - your eyes not quite reopening as you sink back into the pillows. Pero’s prickly chin rubs against your skin as he nuzzles into your cheek, gazing down over your shoulder at his tiny, wrinkly newborn son. Little Javier Dylan Tovar born two weeks early, who lies cradled between your breasts using your heartbeat as a lullaby.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Two cups of finest NHS tea and some biscuits for you both,” the midwife offers as they re-enter the room, “There are also two charming ladies offering us quite a spread of food in the waiting room. I think they’d love to meet the new addition but I can hold them off until you’re ready.”

“Oh, they decamped from the campervan in the car park?” Pero chuckles.

“Our mums were in the camper?” your eyes fly open at this information.

“Do you not remember? I told you when I got in the pool whilst you were delivering Javier,” he questions as you shake your head at him wide eyed.

“Nope,” you pop the p, shaking your head at your lack of memory, “I know you caught Javi, but I don’t actually remember you being in the pool with me.”

“Told you that you’d forget,” the midwife smiles kindly at you, “Now about the granny and abuela out there - want me to hold them off or are you ready for visitors?”

“Let them in,” you stroke the velvety, wrinkly skin on Javi’s back before sending a look - that look - at Pero.

Jimena strides into the room first with that look of fierce pride upon her face that you know so well, her mouth slightly twitching as she takes in the three of you lying together on the bed, “Felicidades mijos. We won’t stay long. Just needed to see that you were both ok.”

“Pero, les traje ropa limpia y hay comida aquí para los dos, Pero, I brought you clean clothes and there’s food in here for you both,” half the height of her son, Jimena seemingly towers over him, “Mijo, qué pasa?”

Throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, he buries his head in his mum’s shoulder, “Mamá, gracias por todo.”

Ruffling and kissing her son’s hair, Jimena hugs him back as tightly, letting his tears soak into her shirt.

Your mum gradually edges her way forward, “Who’s this?”

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you - I’m your daughter,” You teasingly hold out your hand.

“I see becoming a parent hasn’t quelled the sarcastic streak,” your mum rolls her eyes at you, “Do you have a name yet?”

You nod hard at her, “This is Javier Dylan Tovar.”

“Oh, beautiful family names,” she reaches over and strokes your cheek.

“Would either of you like a cuddle?” you offer the grannies.

“Well, I already have a baby giving me a cuddle,” Jimena ruffles Pero’s curls, “I will wait until you’re out of hospital. This time is so important for you to bond as a family. We will be there when you are home.”

“Same here, baby. I popped into your home and just made sure everything is ready for you. When you’re home, Jimena and I will be ready to play the proud grannies and let you and Pero eat, shower and sleep.”

“Come on, let’s leave them to it,” Jimena pats Pero’s arms, kissing him on the forehead as she goes to grab her bag.

You feel Javi start to stir and start to edge towards your other breast as Pero tucks himself back in around you both, his breathing becoming steadier. Eyes growing heavy, you hear the midwife re-enter the room and manage to pick out some of the chatter between the two mums and nurse as you begin to drift.

“You know my couch broke when they stayed, Jimena?” You hear your mum mutter, “Did some maths the other day. Not sure the dog did it.”

A chuckle breaks out between the three of them only broken by Jimena’s voice, “Little Javier is a worthy replacement.”

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