#it goes until her future kids are born

[wonderlandhour]

Lilia: *chatting about Silver's childhood*

Ash, staring at Silver, realizing several things: oh my god, are you a changling?

*Malleus and Sebek choke on their tea. Silver looks confused*

Lilia, gasping: I'm not a cradle snatcher! That's been outlawed for centuries!

Ash: you Just Said you kid-

Lilia: I was joking! I found him abandoned in a cottage!

Ash: . . . *narrowing her gaze at him in suspicion*

Lilia: I'm not a baby thief! Malleus, tell her!

Malleus: Lilia would not. . . However I did not meet Silver until he was nearly 2 years old.

Ash, slamming her hands on the rable: I KNEW IT!

[supercutszns]

rotten to the touch; luke castellan

series masterlist

wc: 3.2k

pairing: pre-tlt luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: you’re pretty sure you’re an awful person. you’re pretty sure luke castellan is too. and you’re pretty sure you want to make out with him.

warnings: reader is flawed & not the greatest, luke is ... a little dark🫣, small mention of blood, swearing, lots of making out but no explicit nsfw, a bit toxic, & no more more ‘i can fix him’ or ‘i can make him worse’ it’s ‘he can make ME worse’

notes: this is… sluttier than my usual stuff so it’s not as good but i’m trying, feedback is appreciated! also i wonder what cabin we think this reader would be in, let me know where you’d place her im curious :) maybe i’ll write more of her in the future she’s interesting!! and thank you for 100 followers i am so grateful<3 designated song for this fic is crush by ethel cain

You are a miserable, wicked, asshole of a person, and everybody knows it. Including you.

It’s unclear to you why you turned out this way—every reason to blame never satiates the fury searing your insides. All the campers hate you. The counsellors, too. Even Chiron looks down on the viciousness inside you. You are Camp Half-Blood’s black sheep; a mean, bitter person with no love for the people around you. And it’s not just for show. You know you’re rotten. You know the anger will never go away.

It’s evident in the things you think about other people—the way you pick them apart in your head, toss them aside, because they just don’t see it. This miserable, unforgiving world, with children sleeping on wooden floors because the people who created you think you disposable. Because they can just make more of you. More, more, more, until one of you comes out rotten, born of all the ugliness they have inside them. You are the worst parts of Godly blood. The wrathful parts.

Everyone hates you. Everyone hates a person with an unquenchable anger.

But everyone loves Luke Castellan.

He’s a saint at Camp Half-Blood if there ever was one. Handsome, generous, kind. Goes out of his way to help out the new kids and gives them homes in his cabin. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. Shit, you’d even love Luke Castellan if you didn’t know any better.

But you do, and you don’t, and it’s complicated, okay?

Because there’s something you know about Luke Castellan that nobody else does: he’s miserable and wicked, too.

You see it in his eyes sometimes. The way they look at you at dinner, when you’re picking at your food away from anyone else at your table. Something familiar rises in them, and your stomach twists. His body tenses whenever someone mentions his father, but the smiles he flashes are so charismatic nobody notices. But you do. It’s exciting.

During sword practice, he quips back and forth with the kids and laughs whenever they take a jab at him. He’s light, easy, carefree. But you see how he holds back, the tension in his shoulder, the way the arc of his sword never fully finishes. So you wait until everybody leaves and he’s alone, with the training dummies and the setting sun. And you. Hiding.

He slashes through them and spears through their heads. You see it, the gnashing of his teeth, the sweat curling down his cheeks. There’s something there. A chasm he’s hopeless to fill.

Before you know it, you’re going out of your way to catch him training alone. It’s creepy, you know, and awful, you know, but the more you watch him the more you see a sort of violence scabbed under his skin.

Whenever you see him now, the feeling you get is entirely foreign to you. It’s almost . . . longing.

Wherever she is, you’re pretty sure Aphrodite’s having a cosmic fucking laugh. And you’re sure she’s laughing double tonight.

The Aphrodite cabin is hosting some secret party for the older counsellors. You’re definitely of age to be a counsellor, but you’ve never been made one because that would probably make half the campers drop out. Chiron and Mr. D don’t know what to do with you. You’re sure you’ll be kicked out of camp soon for good.

But you’re here anyways, for a reason you don’t want to admit, and you stay tucked in a corner as the world around you mingles. Luke is on the other side of the room, lovely as always, laughing with a few other counsellors. He brings a drink up to his lips, and you have a startling thought of what it would be like to kiss him. And you’re fucked. You’re so fucked. Because for the first time in your life you want something tangible, something real. You want to hear him and feel him and pry him apart, and a part of you wants him to actually see you, see all the awful things that might make you the same. You feel like a teenage girl with a crush, and it is infuriating.

An Aphrodite girl comes up to you with a foolish smile. “Hey, sorry, you want a drink?”

“Fuck off, you idiot,” you snarl.

You wait for her to leave. She doesn’t. “You know, you don’t have to be so mean all the time,” she says evenly. “If you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. So yes, I want to give you a drink.”

“Have you ever thought that I’m not being mean? Maybe I just am.”

You glare at her. She looks you up and down. “Sure,” she shrugs, walking away. There’s a vivid picture in your mind of her falling through a hole in the cabin floor. It doesn’t soothe you, but at least the fantasy is there.

The night drones on. You’re sick of the smells and the laughs and the heat. And you’re sick of yourself. You can’t believe, underneath all your sourness, you came here to stare at a boy you barely know, and you don’t even know why. He’s fascinating, and you resent him, and he’s also beautiful. But he’s looked back at you all of three times tonight and you’re sick of the way your skin crawls when he does.

Leaving the cabin brings the relief of the cool night air, and the singularity of your body. You are the only one who feels this rage. You are the only one who hates.

To stave off your discomfort you walk around to the back of the cabin, to the crest of the hill facing the water. The stars above twinkle at you in spite. There’s a bitterness in your throat you want to wash down with something worse (maybe you should have taken that drink), but you know it won’t matter. Nothing matters. Those stars and whatever they hide are apparently the only important things in the universe, so why should anyone care about anything?

They stars only get brighter. It’s probably their goal to piss you off. You grunt, “Oh, fuck you,” to them. It’s not enough, never nearly enough to expel the rotten part of you. “Fuck you. Fuck off!” You groan at the sky. Nothing happens. Until:

“I’m guessing you’re not having a fun night.”

You whirl around. It’s hard to see in the dark, but whatever light is left catches a long scar on a cheek. Your stomach knots.

“Yeah, me neither,” Luke Castellan says, hands in his pockets as he meanders towards you.

Even when he’s close enough, you don’t say anything. If you do, you’re afraid it’ll be something ugly. Like I kind of want to make out with you. Are you awful too? I need a lobotomy.

The thoughts almost make you laugh. Been a long time since you’ve been funny.

He nods at the sky. “Those things don’t talk. You do know that, right?” He’s still so captivating, so self-assured, even when there’s no one around but you.

“Gods, you’re the worst,” you scoff. You really mean it, so you can’t look him in the eye.

“Then why have you been staring at me all night?”

It catches you so off-guard that you whip back to face him. He has an eyebrow raised and the itch of a smile that makes you burn with shame. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He shrugs, leaning against the cabin wall. “I’m not stupid. You’ve been brooding in the corner watching me the second you came in.” He cocks his head to the side, adding, “Actually, you stare at me all the time. At meals and stuff. I really hope you don’t think you’re being subtle.”

You huff. “Okay, if we’re really being honest here, you started that! You do it too! All the time!”

His hands shot up like he was being arrested. “Hey, I never said I minded it. A guy’s . . . just gotta wonder. What’s up with you spying on me when I’m training alone, anyways?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You watch me when there’s nobody else around. I’m not blind. It’s weird. If you want tips you can just ask me. Or if you like what you’re looking at, at least be upfront about it.”

You speak before you can take in that last sentence, or the way his smile took pride in itself when he said it, or how embarrassed you should probably feel. “You didn’t answer my question about why you started staring at me first.”

The anger (shame) blinding you made you forget how close you are to him right now. Close enough to touch, but not enough to see. But almost there. Almost.

“People think you’re mean,” Luke says after a moment, his dark eyes probing you. The words curl out of his mouth slowly, like he’s choosing them all with care. “You’re rude. You never listen to anyone. You judge everything. They all think you’re awful.” Again, he looks you over. “I’m not so sure.”

“If I’m awful, then you’re awful,” you spit before he can say anything else.

He just shrugs. “Well, I guess that’s why I’m not sure.”

It’s irritating, his calmness. He has the same anger you do. How come he can just . . . shove it down? You try to unearth any fury in his eyes, but it’s too far back. Simmering. “Jesus,” you mutter, “You’re worse than me.”

He looks genuinely taken aback by this. His scar deepens when his brows wrinkle. “What?”

“You’re a pretender—that’s what you are.” It’s your turn now, to step closer, to make his skin crawl. “Look at you. Everyone loves you. You’re this perfect golden boy and you’re sweet and attentive and whatever the fuck but you know it’s one giant lie. At least I’m honest, but you just sit pretty and act like you don’t have that . . . thing that I have. Resentment. Insanity. Whatever you want to call it. We’re the same, but I’m the only one getting shit for it.”

Now, you are close enough to really see him. The patterns on the wood behind him frame the vision of his ever-shifting face. You realize that this, like most things are to Luke Castellan, is a challenge. You also can’t remember the last time you saw him lose one.

But when you play, you play to win.

“You don’t know that,” he dares.

“Oh, I do. You’re rotten, Castellan,” you sneer, index finger jabbed into his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate. “And you’re not owning up to it, so you’re also a coward.”

However scathing you look, it isn’t enough. If anything it only makes Luke’s manner more playful. Nothing feels playful anymore. Everything, inside and outside of your mind, feels like constant, exhausting war. Maybe that’s why you don’t slap his hand off you when it wraps around your wrist, keeping it pressed to the middle of his chest. His heartbeat thrums through you.

He tilts his face towards you, grinning, “Then why do you want to kiss me?”

All right. What the fuck. It feels like you’ve been electrocuted.

“What the—what are you talking about?” You blunder, but he knows, of course he knows, because there’s something between the two of you that has been formed and understood by eye contact alone. He can probably read your mind. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’d like to read his just as much.

He cocks his head. “I mean, you did call me pretty,” he teases, and it’s almost endearing. “You’re pretty like this too.” His other hand comes up to your face, and you’re surprised you don’t flinch when his thumb gently smooths the crease in your eyebrows. “Don’t call me a coward, heathen. Then we’ll both be embarrassed.”

The nickname makes you want to fight, but the touch makes you dizzy. “You don’t want to kiss me, Luke,” you say with all the control you have, which, right now, is increasingly sparse.

“You’ve gotta stop telling people what they want,” he muses. The hand on your wrist traces further down your forearm. The one on your face snakes around your hips. “One of your more disagreeable qualities.”

His words fan over you. That fire simmering in his eyes has finally come to the surface.

“One of?” You challenge.

“You let me make out with you and I’ll give you a whole list.”

You snort, hoping it hides the shortness in your breath. “What a charmer you are.”

His lips brush yours. “Well, that’s what makes me so rotten, isn’t it?”

There’s hardly time to unravel if that’s a question or a statement because you grab a fistful of his shirt and he kisses you. Your heart detonates. It is not rotten in the slightest.

His body is warm and firm. You smell the cabin wood and the drink on his breath. It all matters, and none of it does. You’re warm everywhere as he wraps both arms around your back, and the way he kisses is, unfortunately, exactly how you thought he would. Your hands are tentative in his hair. So is your mouth on his. But Luke is so deliberate in the way he kisses that you know he’s thought about this, too. It makes you all the warmer.

His hand takes your jaw and tilts it up. You know your neck is shaky with breath, and you’re pretty sure he’s admiring it. You don’t complain when he presses a kiss to your jaw, then another one, like he’s testing the waters. “You’re so nice like this,” he mutters almost to himself, thumb running across your neck. “If only people could see you.”

“Then they’d see how mean you are too, no?” You huff. “You don’t want that.”

Another kiss to your jaw. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

Whatever feeling is harbouring in your body right now, it’s so fulfilling it almost makes you uncomfortable. You want to reject it. You’re not supposed to want things. Worse, you’re not supposed to get things. Luke starts marking a path down your neck and you are so determined to enjoy this that you’d kiss a fucking baby if someone asked you to. You might as well be a saint.

He bites the pulse point on your neck, sure to leave a mark, and a shudder rips through you. You’re pretty sure the bastard starts laughing. You hit his shoulder in retaliation.

“Easy, heathen,” he reprimands in your ear, and you know he’s still smiling.

“Don’t—don’t call me that.” You hate that you start to smile, too, and that your stomach burgeons with butterflies when he pulls back to look at you.

He touches the corner of your upturned mouth, kiss-bitten and red. His expression is boyish. “Hard to when it makes your face do that,” he goads. “I thought it was impossible for you to smile.”

“Be quiet.” You thread a hand through his camp necklace and bring him closer. You can almost taste his mouth on yours, but he sweeps past you at the last minute.

He gently tugs your earlobe with his teeth and whispers, “Yes ma’am.”

Fuck him. Seriously. You might have to.

It’s a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath his shirt and he does the same, and you’re both angry and greedy and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet. Now you’re just teenagers fooling around at the back of a party, and it’s the first good thing either of you have had in a long time. Luke leaves you gasping whenever his mouth hits certain places, maybe too many places, and he teases you accordingly. “So sensitive,” he taunts, pressing his knee between your legs so he can see you squirm. You rake your nails through his scalp and he tilts his head back to groan. It shuts him up for a while.

He bites your neck until you say his name. You trace lines on his stomach till he takes your hand in his own. You’ve been hungry for something your whole life, and you finally have something to sink your teeth into. For better or for worse.

After Hades knows how long, laughter floats out from the front of the cabin. Sounds of feet tripping over each other and muffled goodbyes. You pull away from Luke, chests heaving together. His hair is wild, his shirt crumpled, and he looks entirely satisfied with it. Smug little shit. “Party’s letting out,” you mutter.

“What a damn shame.” His hand rubs your jaw, and it’s too tender a gesture so you angle your head away to peek over the side of the cabin. You barely pay attention to the kids straggling back to their bunks.

“Is now the time you tell me all my horrible qualities?” You ask once you’re ready to look at him again.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Actually, I came up with more since I said that so I’m pretty sure it’ll take more than one night.” He fakes a wince, “Might have to spread it out for a few days.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, you ass.”

“I’ll give you one for starters.” You feel like a tornado when he kisses the juncture between your jaw and your neck. “Your hands are too cold.” They’re tucked underneath his shirt right now, pressed against his back. You don’t move them. “And,” he adds, “you’re incredibly crass.”

“Thanks, dipshit.”

“Thank you for proving my point, heathen.”

The commotion at the front gets louder, and you know your time to go undiscovered runs short. “You meet me again tomorrow, and I start telling you the rest?” He raises his brows.

The prospect both repulses and excites you, although perhaps they’re hand-in-hand. You tentatively reach up to trace the scar on his face. A faint, jagged line that holds scripture within it. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Even though I’m rotten?” You ask, and there’s an echo of mischief in your voice, too.

He’s got a strange expression when he looks at you. “That’s not true.”

He leans down, angles his head to kiss you. It’s slow, but bitter, and he bites down on your lip until you’re pretty sure there’s blood. “Luke,” you murmur, and he kisses you softer. You lean into him like a hapless, lovesick fool.

After you part, he loosens his grip on you. The bumbling campers have gotten louder. He stares at you, and you see the chasm in his eyes again, brimming with fire. Same as yours. You know you’ll see him tomorrow.

He says, “You’re not rotten. You’re right.”

And damn it, you really do believe him.

[leclercwriting]

little verstappen | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x wife!reader basically max being girl dad coded

masterlist

y/n.verstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 741.698 others

caption: daddy's lucky charm

view all comments

landonorris: where is my lucky charm when i need it?

y/n.verstappen: sorry shes only supporting max maxverstappen1: stop stealing my daughter lando

user4: Omgg i love girl dad max

danielricciardo: P is so cute

maxverstappen1: thanks but if you saw her when she has to go shower u wouldn't write this y/n.verstappen: that's true...

user5: she's mini version of max

y/n.verstappen: i knoow. she's his little copy. AFTER I WAS CARYING HER FOR ALMOST A YEAR!!!! victoriaverstappen: verstappen genes are strong. People still think that my kids are max's kids....

maxverstappen1

liked by y/n.verstappen, danielricciardo and 748.614 others

caption: who's gonna tell daniel that he's babysitting P in 2 days?

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danielricciardo: I'M WHAT?! EMILIAN

y/n.verstappen: oopps. sorry but you're uncle danny and uncle danny is called for the babysitting duties maxverstappen1: we're gonna pay you don't worry danielricciardo: I DON'T NEED MONEY. I'M NOT GONNA BABYSIT THAT MINI MAX landonorris: stop screaming dude maxverstappen1: uh lando we need you to babysit P on wednesday.. landonorris: BRO

user5: the comments lol

user8: poor danny boy

user67: i love this family

danielricciardo

liked by y/nverstappen, maxverstappen and 847,557 others

caption: the best uncle reward goes to me because i was forced to babysit this little devil

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maxverstappen1: thanks for your service

landonorris: now im next...

user55: someone save lando user25: SOMEONE SAVE PENELOPE. LANDO IS THE CHILD

user6: danny is really the best uncle

maxverstappen1: he is

landonorris

liked by y/n.verstappen, maxverstappen1 and 854.585 others

caption: future mclaren driver

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maxverstappen1: GET HER AWAY FROM THE MCLAREN CAR

landonorris: naaah, she likes orange cars y/n.verstappen: max is having heart attack next to me

user7: not lando making max's daughter a mclaren fan

danielricciardo: she's not mclaren fan.. boooooo

landonorris: shut up muppet

mclaren: new mclaren reserve driver

user45: lool poor max

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, redbullracing and 742,563 others

caption: enjoyed our time alone until lando tried to turn my baby into mclaren fan

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landonorris: she was born a mclaren fan. orange suits her

maxverstappen1: yeah orange suits her. but the dutch one

user7: this is still too funny

user122: why is no one talking about them?? i need to have husband like max

y/n.verstappen: u need great wife like me maxverstappen1: everybody needs their y/n

redbullracing: P has a place in our team already

y/n.verstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 984,526 others

caption: and now the best part. summer break with the verstappens

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user7: yall are too cute

y/n.verstappen: tysm

user85: I LOVE THEM. P IS SO BIG

maverstappen1: our baby is growing up so fast

landonorris: family goals

danielricciardo: you cant even take care of a goldfish u muppet

[skyahri]

Children |Naruto Men X fem!Reader| HC

Characters: Naruto Uzumaki, Sasuke Uchiha, Shikamaru Nara, Kakashi Hatake, and Madara Uchiha.

Summary: How many kids they have and how they are with them.

Warnings: Fem reader. Mentions of pregnancy. Mentions of kids.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Naruto Uzumaki

You already knew Naruto had been dreaming of a family for a long time, so when you got your first positive test, you knew it'd go over well.

He was ecstatic to say the least.

He'd coddle you all throughout the pregnancy and as you healed.

Fatherhood was a dream come true. Nothing could make him happier than his little girl.

Except for the second kid.

And the third.

And fourth.

And at that point, you only stopped reproducing because a fifth kid had quickly become your worst nightmare.

All of his offspring, three girls and a boy, had gotten his energy. You chased everyone around the house every single day, and it was exhausting.

Of course, he helped out when he wasn't busy being hokage, but still.

Four was enough... for you.

Sasuke Uchiha

He'd never really put much thought into how many kids he wanted.

Yeah, he wanted to restore his clan, but he kinda forgot that meant HE had to restore his clan.

Your first child, a daughter, was nearing two years old when you'd gotten pregnant once more.

This sparked a conversation about exactly how big of a family he wanted.

Your first child was an angel, really. Calm, quiet, smart, brave, and so much more. If like would be like this, he'd have a hundred.

But damn that second kid was a 180°. If it weren't for the dark hair and eyes, he would swear he was Naruto's son, not his. So much energy.

After that, he'd decided two was more than enough.

He's content with his tight-knit family. (More so content with the idea of less chaos).

Shikamaru Nara

Definition of one and done.

The pregnancy was planned, and he loves his son, but he was perfectly content with how things were.

He checked in with you every now and then to make sure you were content with only one kid, but you assured him every time that he was more than enough.

Besides, only one kid meant that you could give all of your time and energy to him and his needs without worry.

Kakashi Hatake

One and done as well.

Initially, he never wanted kids, but you were already pregnant despite careful measures, so there wasn't much to be done.

A few months later, a little silver haired girl is born.

The second he saw her it was love at first sight.

He loves his daughter. She's literally his whole entire world, and he spoils her absolutely rotten.

He's super protective. Not really a surprise, but it's definitely worth a mention.

Madara Uchiha

It was normal for people on his clan to have a lot of kids. It was the only way to guarantee a future generation due to the war.

When the time came for him and his wife to start thinking about children, he suddenly realized he didn't have to have a billion children.

The war was over and there was peace, so surely there was no need?

It was a mutual decision to have just one child, so that's what you planned on.

Until you suddenly had twins; two boys.

There goes that idea.

Maybe it was his bodies way of telling him he needed more. Uchiha breeding and what-not.

A while later, you had the urge for another baby, and after a long discussion, he agreed it's what he wanted as well.

But again, you had twins, and again, it was two boys.

He called it quits after that. Fuck whatever hyper fertility nonsense you had going on.

He cares deeply for his sons, but he doesn't want to live in a world where he could potentially have yet another pair of babies to look after.

[kittyhui]

woozi baby fever + texts

woozi x afab! reader

- jihoon never thought he would have baby fever

- tbh he didnt even think he wanted kids; being so busy with work anyways

- he definitely changed after meeting you though

- after dating for more than 6 months, he’ll be thinking about marriage and children hopeless romantic ugh

- after marriage or a few years of dating, his baby fever goes through the roof

- if he sees you with a baby or a small child, he will practically keel over with the thought of you with his child

- he acts like he hates children but he stays up at night thinking about you pregnant with his baby

- He feels insane when he makes lullabies instead of demos for his group. He has a folder named ‘for FC’ (for future child) full of songs for his non existent baby and he avoids any questions from his members and you when asked who FC is.

- Whenever he sees dad’s with their children he dies inside. He imagines that being him and him taking his baby out for a walk and taking them to his studio, playing them music

- one day, he hit his breaking point. He was hanging out with seungcheol and hoshi and they were talking about their babies (kkuma and latte LMAO) and how they were thinking of buying them cute winter doggy jackets and sweaters. they showed him picture after picture of clothes for their ‘babies’, sending his mind into overdrive. He wanted a baby. He wanted to buy his baby cute clothes and spoil them the way he spoils you. He didn’t just want it. He needed it.

- The moment he came home you could tell something was up. Sometimes jihoon would be a bit out of it, usually because of work and lyrics. This was different though. He was clinging to you unusually, his head resting on your stomach and his hands gripping your waist soft but firmly, not wanting to hurt you yet not wanting to let you go. He refused to talk whenever you asked what was wrong and would just blush deeper and deeper

- “Jihoon.” You finally say, tired of him evading your questions. Your stern voice makes him lift him head to look at you. “Is something going on? You’re acting strange today?” you were beyond concerned now as his ears turn a deep red and his eyes look away from yours.

- “I was with cheol and soon earlier…” he trails off nervously, “and I realized that I want a child with you. So badly. I’ve just been thinking about filling you up and I just want you to have my kid so badly. I’d take care of her so well, spoil both of you to death…” he cuts himself off, feeling embarrassed seeing your shocked face.

- “She?” is the first thing you say, smiling at him. jihoon quirks his head to the side confused, “you said, you’d take care of her so well. What if it’s a boy, hoonie?” you giggle at him, before leaning in to kiss jihoon’s cheek.

- “Boy or girl, id take care of them” he looks you in the eyes, “promise”

- You giggle at his seriousness, nodding at him. “Let’s have a baby then, ji” his smile is so wide it hurt, kissing you hard.

- “Thank you, baby. Thank you...”

- Now, after you get pregnant.. he’s actually insane.

- He tried to act calm and collected but if you try and carry anything heavier than your phone, he will carry it for you.

- He calls you every 40 minutes when he has schedules, asking you if he needs to come home early or if you need anything

- He bought a crib, walker, and a changing board for his studio as well as for your home. He spares no expense

- The moment you start showing, he will have his head on your stomach 24/7.

- “I felt them kick!” “Hoonie, I’m only 13 weeks, I don’t think the baby’s kicking” he doesn’t believe you btw

- Now, he will finally show you his ‘for FC’ folder, playing the songs in his studio for you and the baby to listen to

- He is always worried once you get close to your due date, convincing his company to put him on hiatus and work from home producing songs until the baby is born.

- “I’ll be fine, jihoon. The guys need you” “pretty, you are going to have a baby any minute now. They understand that you need me more.”

a/n: this is so funny cuz i actually dont want kids but woozi baby fever is so real argue with a wall

[maxwell-grant]

The Penguin Episode 4: Cent'anni Breakdown

She goes through all these different levels of all these different personas: excellent daughter, overachiever, and this horrific feral state in Arkham. And it's not until the yellow dress that she finds the one that fits.

Kind of like sharks can't stop moving or they sink. It's that relentless pursuit of justice.

This changes her forever. She never comes back. Something so much bigger than her takes over in order to survive - Cristin Milioti

This was pointed out to me by my friend and, show of hands everyone, who else thinks it's unbelievably fucking sick that it is Sofia who gets to show up at the Falcone dinner table, wearing a thematically appropriate embodiment of her childhood trauma, and do a "None of you are safe" speech?

(Episode 1) (Episode 2) (Episode 3) (Episode 5) (Episode 6) (Episode 7) (Episode 8)

It probably felt odd to spend time with Sofia when we’re in a show called The Penguin. But I think it’s just as important so you can understand Oz psychologically. Even though I don’t view Oz as a hero or a villain, he is a greater villain in the show than anyone else. And for you to feel that way, I think you have to understand his primary antagonist more. And that’s Sofia.” - Lauren LeFranc

I gotta say I'm generally not enthusiastic about Penguin being depicted as overtly disgusting, like drooling and eating raw fish and all that Burton stuff (actually I do think the black bile is cool, but only so far as as that version goes), but for that opening scene, that was a spectacularly well-placed bit of grossness. Like this sheer craven animalistic ugliness of DeVito's Penguin descending for a second to show us how Sofia sees Oz, and even how right she is to do so at the moment because holy shit hahahahahaha

From what we can see of Sofia's pre-Arkham life, she was basically the Meadow Soprano of the family: The smart, overachieving golden child, whose social standing and eligitibility for leadership wouldn't even be up for debate if she was born a man like her loser brother (love AJ, relate uncomfortably to AJ, he's not at all morally comparable to Alberto, but he is very much a loser). Socially conscious and sticking up for victims but only if you don't poke too closely at her victim-generating family business, aware of some things but willfully blind to her own hypocrisy and insistent that daddy is still in average a good man who isn't as bad as people around her may say he is. I'd even say that the Sofia we see here is a more moral person than Meadow, although obviously being the daughter of Carmine Falcone is a much scarier, more isolating and horrific prospect than growing up the daughter of Tony Soprano (the ways in which the two Sopranos kids diverged and majorly prefigured American socio-political developments that kicked off after the show is a topic for another post).

(Also, I don't really want to bring up Sopranos comparisons because the shows are similar, they're really not, but I finished The Sopranos yesterday so they're gonna come up still)

I think Mark Strong does a really good job here filling in for John Turturro's role, even if he's not quite as good in it as Turturro. I think he plays the character differently in a way that works really well for this being a past version of Carmine, filtered through Sofia's vision. He is imposing and quiet and mighty, a lone titan of unquestionable power over the entire world, not even remotely someone to be defied or displeased. Turturro's Falcone was charismatic and affable and oozing with unspeakable yet casual cruelty, and I would have liked that here, but I like the idea that we're seeing a Carmine from before he was invincible, when he still needed Sofia to help him get Congressman Hill on the phone and still worried about the future of the family at Alberto's hands, a Carmine from when the Maronis were still around and he wasn't the sole ruling power in Gotham, who could still possibly lose even without vigilante intervention.

He is larger, more imposing, a stern and stoic father who had little use for pleasantries, and with no mirth to be had at the expense of the little people who think they can do anything against him that matters, even if he is getting there. I think the difference here adds a nice little arc to Carmine: there was a time where he needed to keep up appearences, there was a time where he raised his voice above a whisper to get things done, and there was a time where he wasn't the real mayor of Gotham. There was a time where he was a "proper" Don, when he acted like his comics counterpart, and none of that really became necessary over the following decade, when he grew more and more invincible and isolated and comfortable in this nightmare he made the city into.

They also confirm here that apparently the Iceberg Lounge/44 Below existed way back when Oz was just Sofia's driver, and it was already Carmine's prostitute slaughterhouse even then and Alberto knew about it. Possibly explains why Oz was handed the club in the first place, because the Falcones already called him Sofia's penguin and putting The Penguin in charge of the Iceberg Lounge would fit their idea of a laugh (and given how much Oz hates being called Penguin, he would hardly come up with the name himself)

Lmao, those dog comparisons I keep making really don't stop justifying themselves.

Credit again to Mike Marino and the prosthetics team for this younger Oz make-up, he strikes a very nice middleground between current Oz and the one we see as a kid.

Really like what we see of Sofia and Oz's dynamic here, again reinforcing that for all intents and purposes he was the sidekick in her HBO protagonist life. We see how Sofia likes his company and how she even kinda defends him from the family, but she really cannot bring herself to respect him very much and disdains him from the same very upper-class perspective the rest of the family does, she's just nicer about it. And in turn we see parts of where Oz's resentment to her comes from, and also the extent to which Oz was always lying in wait for an opportunity to get ahead regardless of her, his justified grievances as well as him being a conniving fuck. The really thin line this treads though, is that it establishes that neither of them were lying about how they meant something to each other, even if it doesn't help.

Sofia did have her life ruined partially because of Oz, she did endure horrific things while he got a promotion because he ratted her out to Carmine, and he very much did in part because he wanted to get ahead and saw an opportunity to do so. But also, Oz genuinely had no idea that this is what Carmine would do, and I think in large part this was also about keeping himself safe. It's not even that unbelievable that he was genuinely looking out for her, because holy shit you do not talk to the press about Carmine Falcone, daughter or not, and he tried warning her in the car before she rebuffed him and insulted him pretty deep for good measure. If Sofia talked to the press and would not stop talking (since he didn't know in the car that she rebuffed Gleeson) and shit started happening because of her snooping around, he would have absolutely gotten punished/murdered for it, it is not at all a stretch to assume that Carmine would have done something to Oz as punishment to Sofia.

Oz didn't plan any kind of misfortune, at no point did he mastermind her admission into Arkham (or even help keep her there with the letters, like the rest of the family), he just told Carmine something he shouldn't have, and neither of them expected anything too terrible was gonna come out of it. They both wildly underestimated what a complete scumbag Carmine is, but with Carmine (and the others) gone, there's nobody else to turn those grievances to.

Even if Oz could claim deniability for the Arkham thing, which he kinda can't but Sofia even tried to grant him anyway, he sure as shit can't for everything else he does in the opening minutes.

Oh hey it's Mr Mustache With The Broken Nose.

A thing that came to mind when I was watching the episode was the story of Rosemary Kennedy, JFK's sister whose father arranged for her to be institutionalized and lobotomized at age 23 as a reponse to "difficult" behavior. I'm not recounting it in more detail here because the rest of it is just too horrific, look it up yourself if you're curious. I remembered it because reading about Rosemary Kennedy ruined my fucking day and it still pumps up the breaks in my train of thought every now and then, so it came to mind watching this story about a young woman horrifically institutionalized and butchered for the sake of her wealthy family's image. Later I heard the podcast, and turns out that actually was exactly what Lauren LeFranc based Sofia's story on, which was nice. I'm glad it also fucks Lauren LeFranc up and that we both agree she should have gotten to wreak revenge on the entire family over it, thank you Penguin Show that continues to be made for me, this was nice.

Oh hey, Magpie. Just the name, yeah, but that was another nice surprise. I used to have a bit of a soft spot for Magpie, occasionally I thought there was something to get out of her and Penguin together, so a part of me likes that they put Magpie in The Penguin show even if just in name. Yes, she only exists to be annoying and die, but that's what she already tends to do anyway. And y'know, much as I may like her, she is still a John Byrne character, so she doesn't really deserve much more than that

Jesus Christ this episode gets uncomfortable.

I like that this establishes that Julian Rush kinda did make an effort to help her and kinda felt bad about it, but not nearly enough, and that he is very much a complicit contemptible creep who has it coming as much as any of the people who put Sofia in there.

Cannot state enough how much I appreciate that they didn't put any actual named Batman villains in the Arkham Asylum episode, guarantee a lot of creators would not resist the temptation. I mean okay I guess there is a Ventris already in Batman but, come on, you know who I mean. This did not need any references to like, Jeremiah Arkham or Jonathan Crane or Hugo Strange or any of that, and that's not a diss on any of those guys, it's just that unlike pretty much every other Batman story, this episode does not undercut it's point about the horrific institutional horrors dehumanizing and destroying Sofia by pinning it on a chief boogeyman supervillain that Batman is going to fight later. Dr. Ventris is not responsible for the systemic rot that got her there nor is he the sole orchestrator/perpetrator of the abuse it's inmates suffer, he simply answers to those, and thus perpetuates them, by doing his job in a mental institution.

I am still haunted by the inmate committing suicide with a fork. It is so fucked up that Sofia was tortured and goaded by the doctors into murdering another inmate, and when that failed, they tortured her again and again and again until she snapped. The whole point was to push Sofia beyond the breaking point to justify further incarceration. The doctors just standing there letting her kill Magpie.

I want Dr.Rush to die.

I have more thoughts on Arkham, but I'd call this the most horrific take on Arkham so far, because it is the most honest take on Arkham so far. Even at it's most run-down and monstrous, it is usually never at all into question that Arkham Asylum is necessary, because if it wasn't there, all the crazies would run rampant in Gotham. Over the years, it's monstrousness has always been tied directly and specifically to it's inmates, and whenever people have pointed out the shoddy conditions and inhospitable environment of Arkham as a factor for repeat offenders, it's pretty much always as a fandom joke outside of Batman stories proper, and if there is anything wrong with the way the Asylum works, it is always the fault of particularly evil villains attached. A Lock-Up, a Jeremiah Arkham, a Hugo Strange, etc. Arkham Asylum is in general a Batman concept that's raised a lot of discussions and calls for revision over the years, and a lot of the issues with it tie into larger issues around superhero depictions of the carceral system, that @artbyblastweave went into here.

Here, in large part because this is a realistic world and a Gotham without a rampaging supervillain contingent of repeat offenders who can magically break out constantly, it is never into question that the patients are the victims of this system, and if they are being turned into potential supervillains, it is because of Arkham inflicting this on them. This is an Arkham Asylum that remains a nightmarish, horrific force in this world, but not because it's Castle Dracula where all the crazy villains hang out, not even just because the rest of Gotham is hopelessly rotten and corrupt, but because it's a mental institution and depicted accordingly. It gets to dig into the real life horrors mental institutions inflict on it's patients without having to justify those measures as benign or necessary to keep crazy crimes from happening. Frankly, this take on Arkham Asylum has been long overdue.

In every form of Batman media, just about the worst thing that can happen at any given moment is Arkham Asylum falling and it's inmates escaping into the streets, that's generally what happens when Batman needs to deal with apocalyptic stakes (which is why of course it happens all the fucking time now). Here, that scenario would be regarded with cheer, because the worst thing that can happen in this universe is being sent to Arkham Asylum. It isn't just Batman's unofficial personal prison / punching gallery, if anything it massively raises the stakes on this Batman's next adventures, because now we know this is what's waiting for him if he gets caught and unmasked.

I like that Sofia and Oz are both trying to save/protect those they see as younger versions of themselves, while inflicting on them the kinds of tragedies that ultimately created them

Oz reached out to this poor disabled kid from the streets and is showing him the ropes, while also belittling him as a nobody and distorting his worldview and dragging him into life or death cornered scrapdog situations chipping away at his morals. Sofia saves her little niece who laughs at bad table manners and doesn't quite do what her family says, gently lulling her to sleep so she can kill her mom and her entire family.

Extremely important that Sofia Falcone makes her formal arrival as a villain by showing up dressed in a sexy yet fitting extension of her trauma / cultural reference (The Yellow Wallpaper / the walls in her mother's bedroom), before putting on a mask and enacting Gotham's first Mass Casualty Gas Attack, we love to see it.

I was frankly already calling Sofia one of my favorite Bat-villains even before this episode, I'm just glad everyone seems to be on the same page with me now. I'm seeing a lot of posts on Twitter and Instagram talking about how they're rooting for Sofia instead of Oz, that she deserves to win this war, and good, fucking amazing that they're doing this, again, this show is hitting home runs I could not have foreseen.

It is incredible what a character they've made out of Sofia, and the fact that we now see Oz as her antagonist as much as we see Sofia as his, and the fact that if Penguin wins, he will win this as a villain. He will steal a victory he does not deserve and rub it in your face and he will make the children of the world cry for it as any villain worth his name should be doing, and it frankly wouldn't be much of a fight if Sofia wasn't every bit the complicated, engaging protagonist he is. Lauren LeFranc claimed that she sees Sofia is the closest the show has to a hero even if she is not, and this is the episode that sold everyone on it.

Halfway through the show and it's only gotten better and better, can't wait for what's coming next.

[bloodheartz]

gimmw your gfalls hcs NOEWWW

oh god! I have soooo many but i'll put some basic ones down for the pines family rn and probably add on to this later ^_^

Dipper

◇ First of all this boy is absolutely autistic. My little autistic ass acted so much like him as a kid, I mean, what autistic 12 year old wouldn't base their entire summer around a weird book full of monsters they found?

��� I think he's a trans dude and aro/ace, and that his crush on Wendy was more comphet than anything. I'm not really a fan of any ship involving him but I think platonic dipcifica could be cute.

◇ Cryptozoology/The Paranormal is absolutely his main special interest, but he also has an sp/in in computers/comp sci (but he's honestly not great at computer stuff).

Mabel

◇ AuDHD Queen! I think her main special interest is absolutely arts / crafts, I mean look at all the silly things she makes throughout the series as well as her dedication to handmaking dozens of puppets/props/etc as well as writing and entire play to impress her crush of the week in Sock Opera. ◇ I think sexuality wise she's not straight but prefers to be unlabelled. I also like to think she's the type to collect xenogenders / neopronouns like pokemon cards. ( she totally uses a bunch of cat-based pronouns) ◇ Shortly after the series I think she'd get a little less Boys-Crazy and focus more exploring who she is as a person / her self expression. Absolutely is gonna have a mall goth/emo/scene phase (she's smushing all three of those together into one thing for herself).

(I also think Mabel and Dipper were born identical twins)

Grunkle Stan

◇ Also AuDHD, not quite sure what his big main special interest would be but he's absolutely hyperfixated on Ducktective. Also going off the story in Lost Legends I think he'd absolutely be getting into making comics / drawing in general (even if hes not great at it). Post series I think he'd spend a lot of his free time out at sea drawing in the boat's cabin. Mostly making comics of silly re-tellings of he and Ford's adventures out at Sea (he absolutely shows Dipper and Mabel these if he and Ford video calls them when they're on land) ◇ I'm a transfem Stanley truther. He doesn't really realize/come to terms with it until post-series. I think she'd just grow out her hair and throw it in a pony-tail + use she/he pronouns to transition. She'd still use the name Stanley and be fine with both masc/fem terms (ie fine be called a man or a woman). Also he's bisexual (but has known this since he was like a teen, even if he didn't have the words to label it.) ◇ I think his Popsicle addiction from the unaired pilot is real and canon. Old autistic men love popsicles just look at my dad and grandfather.

Ford

◇ oh boy its projection time (i am a stanford pines fictive) 😈😈😈

◇ Transmasc, somewhere under the nonbinary umbrella but very guy adjacent. Mainly uses he/him pronouns but I think he'd use "it" and "they" aswell. Gay and Arospec as well. ◇ Autism + NPD + Schizophrenia wombo combo. He's sooooo NPD coded its INSANE, I am going to write an essay about it in the future. Goes without saying that his special interests are the paranormal and various sciences, but I think he has a hardcore love for the arts as well. ◇ Going off both the autism and arospec HC- I think he's the type to convince himself he has a crush very easily, when in reality he just has a strong admiration / platonic love for those in question, and had strong platonic feelings for McGucket back in college that he confused for romantic ones (projecting 100000000%) (i think the Stan twins were fraternal twins)

[omgkatherine01]

Can I request a one shot between aged up Neteyam x fem!reader na'vi where they are best friends since childhood and Neteyam is jealous that the reader is talking to other young men, and they want her. She and Neteyam confessing to each other that they have feelings to one another.

Mine (Neteyam x Female Na'vi Reader)

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!reader Na'vi

Masterlist (requests are currently open for now)

Note: An old request, sorry it took a while to get to it.

Warnings: Smut!

You and Neteyam have been best friends since you were little. Born only a few days apart, your parents always been around each other, so you and Neteyam were always around each other as well.

As you both grew up, you two became best friends, hardly separating from each other. Where ever one goes, the other follows.

Neteyam's parents had always treated you like their own, and his siblings had always considered you as their sister. You were part of Neteyam's family, and he was part of yours.

And as the two of you grew to the age of 16, both your mother and Neytiri started to see signs of a shift in their kids' relationship. Long looks, light touches, the female blushing on small compliments from the male.

Those were different feelings now.

Not that they would complain, both your parents and Neteyam's had hoped for one day when a mate to be picked for both of you, it will be the two of you together and not apart.

Time went on, and as it did, Neteyam grew annoyed when the young males in the village would start to notice your beauty and warrior skill. You weren't the only one who changed, he did as well, he grew more handsome and the females in the village didn't hesitated to show their want for the future Olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya Clan.

But Neteyam had eyes only for you.

And you had eyes only for him.

Yet both of you kept your feelings for each other deep inside.

Until you both reached to age 19.

Neteyam watched from afar as you laughed with a group of young Na'vi hunters, his jaw clenching involuntarily. Though you had been best friends since childhood, lately he found himself consumed by unfamiliar feelings of jealousy whenever other men were near you.

As the hunters departed, you noticed Neteyam and bounded over, your eyes bright. "There you are! I was looking for you earlier."

Were you?" he asked, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from his voice. "You seemed occupied."

You tilted your head, studying him. "Neteyam, what's wrong? You've been acting strangely lately."

He sighed, "Nothing."

You frowned, unconvinced. "I know you better than that. Something's bothering you."

Neteyam hesitated, his golden eyes searching your face. You thought maybe it will be better you two to talk in a more private area, "Let's go somewhere more private," you suggested softly, taking Neteyam's hand. He nodded, allowing you to lead him into the dense forest surrounding the village.

As you walked in silence, you could feel the tension radiating from Neteyam. Your heart raced, wondering what could be troubling your closest friend so deeply. Finally, you reached a secluded clearing bathed in bioluminescent light.

Turning to face him, you spoke gently, "Please, Neteyam. Tell me what's on your mind."

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made you shiver. "I can't stand seeing you with other men," he confessed, his voice low and husky. "The way they look at you, the way you smile at them… it drives me crazy."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Neteyam, are you… jealous?" you asked softly, hardly daring to hope.

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I know I shouldn't be. You're my best friend, and I should be happy for you. But I can't help it. The thought of you with someone else…" He trailed off, clenching his fists.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stepped closer to him. "Neteyam, look at me," you whispered. When his golden eyes met yours again, you saw vulnerability there that took your breath away. "You have nothing to be jealous of. Those other men mean nothing to me."

"They don't?" he asked, hope flickering in his eyes.

You shook your head, gathering your courage. "No. Because… because my heart already belongs to someone else."

Neteyam's breath caught in his throat. "Who?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached out, gently cupping his face in your hands. "You, Neteyam. It's always been you."

His eyes widened in disbelief, then softened with emotion. "Y/N," he breathed, pulling you closer. "I've wanted to tell you for so long, but I was afraid of ruining our friendship."

"I was afraid too," you admitted, your fingers tracing the luminescent patterns on his skin. "But I can't hide my feelings anymore. I love you, Neteyam."

"I love you too," he murmured, leaning in until his forehead rested against yours. "More than I ever thought possible."

Your eyes fluttered closed as Neteyam's lips finally met yours in a tender kiss.

The kiss deepened as years of unspoken longing poured out between you. Neteyam's strong arms encircled your waist, pulling you flush against his body. Your fingers tangled in his hair, reveling in its silky texture.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, Neteyam gazed at you with such adoration it made your heart soar. "I never want to let you go," he murmured, nuzzling your neck.

"Then don't," you whispered back, tilting your head to give him better access.

His lips trailed along your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. "Y/N," he breathed against your skin, "I want to bond with you… to make you mine in every way."

You pulled back slightly to meet his eyes, seeing the desire burning there. "I want that too," you admitted.

Your heart raced as Neteyam's hands roamed your body, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever they touched. You pulled him closer, savoring the feeling of his strong form pressed against yours. His lips found yours again in a passionate kiss that left you breathless. You pulled away from his lips, and without breaking eye contact, you reached for his queue, gently bringing it forward. Neteyam's breath hitched as he understood your intention.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly, his voice thick with emotion.

You nodded, a smile playing at your lips. "I've never been more certain of anything."

With reverent care, Neteyam took your queue in his hands. The tendrils began to glow and intertwine as you brought them together. As the neural connection formed, you gasped at the intensity of sensations and emotions flowing between you. It was like nothing you had ever experienced--every touch amplified, every feeling shared.

Neteyam pulled you close, claiming your lips in a passionate kiss. You melted into Neteyam's embrace as waves of pleasure and emotion washed over you through your neural connection. His hands roamed your body with newfound urgency, igniting sparks of desire everywhere they touched. You gasped as he lowered you gently onto the soft forest floor, his body covering yours.

"You're so beautiful," Neteyam murmured, his eyes drinking in the sight of you beneath him. His fingers traced the luminescent patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

You pulled him down for another searing kiss, reveling in the feeling of his solid form pressed against you. Through your bond, you could feel his love and desire mingling with your own, creating an intoxicating blend of sensation.

Slowly, reverently, you began to explore each other's bodies. Every caress, every kiss was amplified tenfold through your neural connection. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the way his hands moved with both tenderness and urgency as they traced your curves, igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with each touch.

"Neteyam," you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as his lips traveled down your neck. The sensation sent tremors through your body, and you instinctively arched into him, encouraging his exploration.

He paused for a moment, looking up to meet your gaze. "Are you sure you want this?" he asked, his golden eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell.

You nodded, a smile breaking across your face. "I want you--only you."

With a look of pure determination, he captured your lips once more, deepening the kiss as if to claim you entirely. His hands found their way to the hem of your garment, gently lifting it away to reveal your skin to the cool night air. Every caress was like a spark igniting a flame, and you shivered at the sensation, feeling both vulnerable and utterly cherished.

Neteyam's eyes darkened with desire as he took in your form, the bioluminescent hues dancing across your skin. He traced the soft curves of your waist, marveling at how perfect you felt beneath his hands. With each touch, he communicated his reverence for you, the depth of his feelings whispering through every caress.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured again, his voice low and filled with awe. The intensity of his gaze made your cheeks flush as you smiled back at him, your heart racing in tandem with the rhythm of the forest around you.

As if sensing your eagerness, Neteyam leaned down to press his lips to yours once more, kissing you deeply as he shifted between your legs. You reveled in the sensation of him nestled against you, the warmth radiating from his body mingling perfectly with the cool night air. You could feel the electricity crackling between you, a potent mix of longing and adoration.

As the kiss deepened, he shifted his body closer, his warmth enveloping you completely. Your hands roamed over his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath his skin, every movement igniting a fire within you that demanded more. You wanted to explore every inch of him, to understand how someone could evoke such intense feelings.

Neteyam pulled back slightly, his breath mingling with yours, both of you intoxicated by the moment. "Are you ready?" he asked, vulnerability lacing his tone as he searched your eyes for confirmation.

You nodded fervently, your heart racing. "I am. I want this. I want us."

With that silent agreement hanging in the air, Neteyam's lips found yours again, but this time there was an urgency that sent ripples of anticipation throughout your body. He trailed kisses down your jawline and across your collarbone, each touch igniting a wildfire of sensation that surged through you. Your hands tangled in his hair, urging him closer as he explored the delicate curves of your body with a reverence that made you feel cherished.

Neteyam's kisses trailed lower, and you gasped as his warm breath fanned across your skin. His fingers danced along your sides, leaving a trail of fire that made your heart race. You felt alive in a way you had never experienced before, every nerve ending heightening with anticipation. The forest around you fell silent, as if nature itself was holding its breath for what was about to unfold.

He paused for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours, filled with a mixture of love and fierce desire. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice raw with emotion. "I want to make this moment last forever."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded earnestly, feeling an overwhelming sense of belonging wash over you. He leaned down to capture your lips again. The kiss deepened, transforming into a tender promise wrapped in passion. With every gentle caress and heated breath, you could feel the connection between you solidify into something sacred.

As his kisses traveled lower, tracing the curves of your body, heat surged through you in waves. You gasped at the sensations flooding your senses--each brush of his lips felt like magic, igniting a trail of yearning that pulsed beneath your skin.

"Y/N," he murmured against your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. "You’re everything I have ever wanted." His words held sincere weight, each syllable imbued with love and desire.

You felt a rush of warmth at his admission, and the vulnerability in his voice made your heart race. "And you’re everything I’ve ever wanted too, Neteyam," you breathed, your fingers brushing against his cheek.

He brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and his fingers lingered against your skin, igniting a trail of goosebumps.His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke again, "You know we’re not just two souls in this moment. We’re bound by our families, our duties…"

You nodded, feeling the weight of those responsibilities pressing down but somehow lighter in the warmth of his presence. "I know," you replied, your voice steady, "But right now, all I can think about is us."

Neteyam’s expression softened, and he leaned closer, so close that you could feel the cool air between you warm with a newfound intimacy. "Then let’s not waste this moment. Let’s make it ours."

With that, he kissed you again, his lips molding perfectly against yours, a fusion of need and tenderness that took your breath away. Every kiss was a promise, a declaration of the love that had flourished between you for so long but had just now bloomed into something tangible.

As he kissed you deeper, you could feel the world around you dissolve further—leaves rustled in the breeze, bioluminescent flowers pulsed gently with an ethereal glow, and the distant sounds of the forest transformed into a melodic backdrop for your moment. Everything felt alive, vibrant with the energy of your connection.

Neteyam’s hands trailed down your sides as he pressed his body closer, creating an intimate cocoon of warmth. You gasped softly as his fingers brushed over your skin, igniting sparks that traveled through you like lightning. His touch was both gentle and electrifying, as if he was crafting a masterful painting on the canvas of your body.

"Y/N," he breathed, looking down at you with eyes full of love and desire.

He captured your lips in another searing kiss, deepening the connection between you two. The world outside ceased to exist; it was just the two of you in this sacred space beneath the stars. As the kiss lingered, his hands found their way back to your waist, his fingers splaying possessively on your hips—a declaration that you were his and he was yours.

Time seemed to stand still as he trailed hot kisses along your jaw and down your neck, every sensation sending waves of warmth radiating through you. You couldn't help but arch into him, inviting him closer as his lips traveled lower, igniting a fire within you that left you breathless. His hands roamed down your body, pulling you closer as you something touch you below, a warmth that sent shivers of anticipation coursing through your veins. It was as if every nerve in your body was awakening to the sensations he was creating, each caress igniting a deeper yearning within you.

"Neteyam," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and desire. The world around you faded even further as he became your sole focus.

His breath caught at the sound of your voice, and he paused, looking up to meet your gaze. The intensity in his golden eyes reflected a swirling mix of emotions--passion, tenderness, and an unspoken question that hung heavy in the air between you.

"Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice husky, filled with concern and longing. The weight of the moment pressed down on both of you, a delicate balance between desire and vulnerability.

You nodded slowly, feeling embers of courage ignite within your heart. "Yes," you breathed, the word coming out as a soft affirmation. "I want this… with you."

A flicker of relief washed over his face, and in that moment, all doubt dissipated like mist under the rising sun. He leaned closer, brushing his lips against yours once more--a teasing caress that set your pulse racing. Then, those lips moved lower, trailing kisses down your neck, igniting a fire that left you gasping for air.

You felt him starting to push into you below, and a rush of exhilaration mixed with nervousness surged through your veins.

With gentle care, he began to push deeper into you, the sensations overwhelming yet exhilarating. You surrendered to him completely, your body arching to meet his every movement. The world around you faded away--leaves whispered above as the stars twinkled like ancient spirits bearing witness to your union. Every rustle of the wind seemed to resonate with your heartbeats, a symphony composed just for the two of you.

Neteyam's touch was both tender and fervent, as if he were exploring uncharted territory with reverence and awe. He paused for a moment, his golden eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. In that brief silence, you felt the weight of the moment--a sacred bond forming in the stillness between breaths.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, his voice low and filled with warmth and concern.

You nodded, your heart pounding in response to the sincerity in his gaze, "Yes," you breathed out.

With that affirmation, he pressed forward once more, moving with a gentle rhythm that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you let out a moan. Each connection felt electric, igniting a fire within that consumed all thoughts of the outside world. It was as if time itself had bent to your will, leaving only the two of you in this cocoon of warmth and intimacy. You could feel the energy between you intensifying, weaving a tapestry of love that intertwined every heartbeat.

Every movement he made was careful yet passionate, each thrust drawing you closer to a blissful edge. The way his body moved against yours sent shivers of pleasure radiating from where you connected. With every rhythmic push and pull, your breaths mingled in soft gasps and sighs that echoed through the night, punctuating the intimate silence of the forest around you.

"Y/N," he breathed, his voice laced with desire and reverence. “You feel so perfect.” His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, igniting flames of passion deep within your core.

The sensations built within you--each moment was a crescendo of bliss, and you felt yourself surrendering completely to the connection between your hearts and bodies. In those fleeting seconds, there was no world beyond this clearing, no responsibilities or expectations, just you and Neteyam, entwined in a dance of intimacy that felt like it had been destined for lifetimes. Each sigh, each moan exchanged was a testament to the bond you shared--a connection that transcended mere friendship and blossomed into something deeper, more profound.

As he moved with you in perfect harmony, the rhythm of your bodies aligned like the heartbeat of Pandora itself, synchronizing with the gentle sway of the trees overhead. The forest pulsed around you, a living entity that celebrated your union, highlighting the beauty of the moment with bioluminescent flowers illuminating the night.

"Together," Neteyam murmured against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. "Always together." It was as if he was pouring his soul into each word, sealing promises that lingered in the air between your heated breaths.

"Always," you echoed back breathlessly, your heart soaring at the sincerity radiating from him.

As Neteyam's rhythm quickened, each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. You could feel the tension building within, a delicious pressure that urged you toward the precipice of ecstasy. The connection between you deepened with every shared breath, igniting a fire that burned brightly within the core of your being.

"Just like this," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours, his golden eyes filled with an intensity that made you shiver. "That's it."

You moaned, the sound reverberating through the clearing, echoing the raw intensity of your shared moment. Neteyam's gaze locked onto yours, fueling the fire that burned brightly between you as his movements grew more urgent, a dance choreographed by years of unspoken desire.

As the waves of pleasure crashed over you, you felt yourself spiraling into a blissful abyss, every nerve ending igniting with each pulse of his body against yours. Time ceased to matter as your world narrowed down to this moment, the two of you intertwined beneath the soft glow of the bioluminescent flora. Your heart raced in tandem with his movements, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

"Y/N," he gasped, his breath mingling with yours as he leaned down to capture your lips again. The kiss was desperate and fervent, a mingling of your breaths that felt like the very essence of life itself. You could feel him drawing from your shared energy, both of you wholly consumed by the intensity of your connection.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper as a wave of pleasure washed over you. It was as though Pandora herself was rejoicing in your union, the sounds of the forest--chirps and rustles--creating an ethereal symphony that played just for you, amplifying the sensations that coursed through your bodies.

The world around you dissolving into a mosaic of colors and sensations as waves of ecstasy crashed over you like a tidal wave. You felt every fiber of your being pulse with the intensity of the moment, a symphony of shared breath and whispered names echoing in the stillness of the forest.

Neteyam's golden eyes shone with a fierceness that mirrored the love swelling within you. His hands tightened around your waist, anchoring you to him as he poured every ounce of his soul into that singular moment. It felt as though time itself had stopped, allowing space for this union to take root in both your hearts—an undeniable connection that transcended words.

"Y/N," he murmured after the waves receded, his voice husky and laden with emotion. He brushed his thumb across your cheek, as if grounding himself in reality after the euphoria. "That was… everything."

You smiled softly, still catching your breath. "It was."

The forest glowed softly around you, the bioluminescent flora twinkling as if celebrating your union. You could feel the weight of the moment settling in, wrapping around you both like a warm embrace. Neteyam's fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, grounding you in the aftermath of such intimate bliss.

"You mean everything to me," he said, his golden eyes reflecting a mixture of awe and tenderness. "I never want to let this go."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned in, resting your forehead against his. "You won’t have to. We’re bound now--by our hearts, by our families… by everything we’ve shared."

He smiled, a slow, radiant smile that lit up his entire face. "I want to take care of you, Y/N. Always."

You looked back into his eyes, feeling the sincerity of his promise wash over you like a comforting tide. "And I will stand by your side, through everything. You're my heart, Neteyam."

He nodded, a sense of understanding passing between you that needed no words. He caressed your cheek, leaning over to kiss you with a tenderness that made your heart flutter once more. The kiss was a gentle reminder of the bond you had forged, a promise sealed with the warmth of his lips against yours.

[r3starttt]

Don’t delete the kisses

a/n: I got my inspo from “See You In My 19th Life” also, felt too personal. Basically reader inspired on me lol

Pt 2. | Prt.3 | Prt.4

Warnings: mentions of bullying, suicide, lots of angst and fluff

“I see the signs of a lifetime, you ‘til I die”

You’ve had seventeen lives so far. You’ve been all kinds of people in all kinds of places, and you always remember each one of them. It always happens for different reasons, it could be a smell that reminded you of a perfume, a new dish that apparently you’ve already tried before, a face that felt familiar, a song that made you feel weirdly in love.

At first it was horrifying, it was so confusing and you made so many mistakes. You told people about it. You tried to find your loved ones, tried to approach to them again because your heart still missed them. But eventually you learned to handle it. Eventually the pain of past life losses disappeared and you just learned to ignore your not so nice gift.

You’ve also learned to adapt to every life, which was becoming easier every time because the knowledge, talents and hobbies from every life apparently stayed with you. Maybe it was your soul?

You stopped having complains and learned to value and enjoy everything. You appreciated every mistake you made because it helped you learn for a future life, you enjoyed feeling everything so deeply because it would help you remember the next time you reincarnate, you showed your love for everyone and did everything you wished so you wouldn’t have any regrets. You learned to be positive and take advantage of everything that was offered to you on each life.

Until now.

Ever since you were a child you’ve felt empty. Loved but not enough to fill your heart, admired but feeling like you’re not worth it, with friends that care for you and a lovely family that provides you all you need and all you could ever ask for but feeling like you don’t deserve them. Maybe you were born sad?

It seems like your whole life happened in the blink of an eye. Maybe it’s the sadness that hasn’t allowed you to enjoy this life properly, but where does that come from?

Maybe you’ve got used to sadness so much that you don’t know how to handle it on this life? It’s frustrating, not even all the knowledge in the world, all the abilities you’ve learned and your old soul can handle such feeling. It’s the first thing you’ve been unable to control, ever.

There is a reason why it got out of control though. When you were eleven you were bullied by your whole class, including some professors. And it didn’t matter how much privilege you had, neither you or your parents could do anything about it.

That’s the moment all the lonely, angry and sad in you became overwhelming, the moment you started to believe in god again just to beg him every day to kill you, to let you die.

And even if that was almost ten years ago it still haunts you. The humiliation, the anger, the loneliness. And you can’t handle it, not because you don’t know how to, but because your body doesn’t allow you to.

Your heart always reminds you of it, like it happens with your past lives, there’s always a smell, a word, an action. The way those kids made you feel, they things those adults said to you, the way your parents broke in tears when you first told them, the awkwardness at home whenever they tried to make you talk to them. It all stuck to you forever.

“What if it’s not meant for me? Love”

However there was someone that was worth trying to live. Her name is Ellie, and you’ve been dating her for some years now.

She’s your childhood best friend, the person you trust the most on this world and the only one that doesn’t make you feel overwhelmed. Your girlfriend and the lover you’ve feel more connected to or all your lives.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” You’re both laying on her bed, staring at the ceiling and talking about random stuff, whatever goes trough your minds “Or…. reincarnation”

“None of them, do you?” you could see her moving her head towards you from the corner of your eye “Yeah, I’d like us to be soulmates and find each other on each life” a chuckle came out of Ellie’s mouth “you’re so cheesy ughh” you laughed back, kicking her shoulder with your arm to which she complained.

“I know but, I’ve never loved someone this much el” you turned your head too, smiling at the look of Ellie’s shy smile and and her slightly tainted cheeks “you’ve really saved my life, you know it” Just as those words were spoken, her face changed completely.

“all good?”

You could see the worry on her face, in the way her eyes studied yours and on the pout that slowly appeared. You just sighed back, hesitating a bit and debating if you should tell her the truth or not.

“It’s probably my birthday, I’ll be fine” the reassurment in your voice didn’t seem to convince her, so you spoke again “el, things have been good in the past few years, it’s not gonna change suddenly”

“What if they do?” she’s right, what if they do?

“They won’t, I would already know and I would tell you, I promise” you do know, but you won’t tell her, not now.

“You tell me to get over it and to take you out, but I can’t and I’m too scared. “

You’ve tried to take your life some years ago, before Ellie and you started to date. Honestly, to this day you still don’t know how you managed to not die. It was late at night, right before your birthday, it always makes you feel extremely sad for some reason, you believe is the fear of growing up, of things getting harder.

“And here’s the night bus, I have to go. And the doors are closing and you’re waving”

You’ve had that feeling for over a month. All your healing process falling apart just for your birthday? you still feel ashamed about it. You just took some random blade you’d saved for this moment and started to practically stab your wrists.

All your thoughts mixed with the weirdly feeling of pain and satisfaction and the blood dripping down your arms blinded you, and in the blink of an eye you just loose the balance and fainted.

But you promised yourself that if you didn’t make it back then, you would try it again, no matter what. Or at least you tried to convince yourself.

“What if it’s not meant for me? Love”

“What are you gonna gift me?” you decided to better change the topic before your thoughts could overwhelm any of you “What do you want?” Her hands tangle with yours.

“You haven’t got me anything yet?” a laugh scapes your mouth “I do but…. I don’t know” Ellie loved handmade gifts, however she always does something different for you. “You know I love your gifts el, you can give me a rock and I would admire it forever”

Your hands slowly move from Ellie’s, cupping her face and making her look at you. She’s so pretty, with the light of the sun coming through the window snd hitting her freckles just perfect, making her eyes look shiny too.

“So you want a rock then?” of course she had to make jokes, she can’t handle romantic moments, gets to nervous. You just roll your eyes.

“You know, a perfect gift would be that you stopped using those crusty converse” she immediately groans, pushing your hands away from her face and leaning on her back

“What’s wrong with them?”

“They smell, they’re broken and they’re dirty as fuck because you never clean them”

“They don’t smell! and I glued them recently”

“Ellie, please”

“But don’t call me by my full name”

“I’m not! And I’ve always called you Ellie”

“No you haven’t, you call me El”

“El, please buy some new converse for my birthday”

“And what do I get for doing it?”

“Your girlfriends happiness”

“I think that’s a sign. I’m losing self control and it’s you”

And that’s how you it was for the rest of the day. Ellie pouting every time you teased her but calling you dramatic if you said anything about her teasing you. Also, Ellie suddenly telling you random facts about dinosaurs and space and just random stuff in general.

That was the las time you saw her, until your birthday. She’d come earlier than anyone else to have more time alone with you. It’s not that you had many friends but your family always came too so they’d keep you busy all day.

A day before you were looking through your closet, finding all the cute gifs Ellie had made you, admiring the details of all her drawings and reading the letters. Watching all the Polaroids your mom took of you two, the gift she made for you when she asked you to be her girlfriend, a bracelet she gifted you when you asked her to be her friend, a letter you made for her from when you first fought.

And it made you feel horrible, because the decision was already made, the letters for all the people you cared about were already written and saved in your desk. Your phone was already unlocked so everyone could have access to it, your room was tidy and your closet clean.

You were just waiting for her, for tomorrow, for all your family to be together when you left so it would be hopefully easier to everyone. For everyone to be there and get their letters, for Ellie to not be alone when she got the news, for your parents and your girlfriend to be comforted by each other’s presence.

You went downstairs, looking for Ellie since you heard your parents already speaking with her. They were all siting at the dining room.

It made your heart melt to see you happy she looked the moment she saw you. Her eyes, her pretty nose scrunching a little, her smile widening.

“Can I see my gift already?” Your parents laughed in disbelief, telling you to at lest greet her properly before asking her about a gift.

“Your parents told me you’ll open them later” she chuckled, looking at your parents and then back at you, you did the same.

You stepped closer to her, grabbing her hands and taking her to your room.

“Can you at least tell me what is it? I’ll act surprised I promise”

“A rock”

“Haha so funny el”

You closed the door behind you, watching Ellie sitting on your bed. She just stared at you, with puppy eyes of course. You really hoped you wouldn’t remember this when you reincarnated, or at least that It wouldn’t hurt as much as it does right now.

“What’s that box?” her finger pointed at the box you were just looking trough last night. You walked towards it and took it to the bed, sitting besides Ellie.

“All your gifts” she looked at you in pure shock “This is something I did for you when we were like…. Seven or something, why’d you still have it?”

“My mom saved all this things, it’s cute isn’t?”

“I feel exposed”

“What’s wrong with it? I love all of it”

“Your gift is not gonna fit in here”

“So it’s not a rock and defined not a new pair or converse” your eyes moved towards Ellie’s shoes, she just sighed

“Stop it, you’re the only one that notices them”

“My parents do, my mom asked my why you never changed them” that was a lie, but how could Ellie know?

You did the same thing as last nigh, take a final look to all the gifts that Ellie had made to you, not now with her. You’d made fun of her and she would just frown her eyebrows and eventually pout if she felt really ashamed of it. You’d make her read the letters out loud and ask her about the process of every draw she’d made of you.

“This letter is for me, why didn’t you give it to me?” Now you understood the feeling, karma. “We fought, I decided it was better to apologize in person” her hands leaned the letter towards you, making you read it out loud just as you’d made her do to you.

“January 13 2020” you stopped as she laughed “don’t laugh, you wanted me to read it I’ll read every detail then”

“I’m sorry for whatever I did to make you mad, I’m still not sure what it was- Ellie, you’re such a dramatic person”

“Me? You’re the one that’s dramatic for making a whole letter even though you hate writing just to randomly apologize”

“This just proves how much I love you, shut up”

“Right, keep reading”

“I’m still not sure what it was, but I feel like apologizing because Dina told me how much you’ve been crying and how awful I made you feel-“ you got interrupted by a loud gasp

“Why would Dina told you?” She slapped her hands on her face, groaning “only fucking fake friends these days” you laughed

“Hey don’t say that! I love Dina, she’s the sweetest and I bet she also tells you all I tell her about you, you’re overreacting for something that happened three years ago”

“You speak about me with her?” You nodded

“I want you to know that I’m so fucking grateful for having someone like you in my life. For a long time you were the only one that made me laugh, the only one that made me feel happy and loved and like life was worth it. You’re the reason I keep trying” you could feel the knot of tears forming in your throat, so painful “I feel like you got mad for what I said, but I want you to know that I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I wanted you to know how I truly felt about you and us and my life. I didn’t want to lie to you, I can’t. I was hoping you could understand that I didn’t tell you that before because I was afraid of how would you react, because I care for you snd I don’t want you to get hurt just for my weakness-“

The door of the room got opened after some small knocks were heard. Everyone had got there already. You didn’t realize how long you’ve been in your room with Ellie, totally worth it though.

You just saved the letter in the box again. You’ve purposely let it in your room for Ellie to take a look of it later that day, for her to have something left from you.

You both went downstairs again, Ellie went with your friends and you went to greet each family member, having some small talk with everyone and thanking them for being here.

And the time today felt extremely fast. Maybe this was the first birthday you’ve properly enjoyed, maybe you were excited or anxious, maybe it was the calm you’ve felt for the first time in years, maybe-

“I wanna eat the cake already, can’t you hurry them?” Ellie’s hands positioned around your waist, hugging you from behind and pulling you closer to her. You could see her pretty face resting on your shoulder, staring at you.

“You smell like gummies” you smiled without even realizing, now looking at Ellie. Her lips pressed in yours, the sour and sweet flavor invading your tongue “I ate gummies”.

“There’s tons of food El, why don’t you just eat something that’s not candy? Instead of asking for cake that by the way you won’t get to eat” she pinched your stomach slightly “why won’t I get to eat cake?” “I don’t think there’s enough for everyone

“I deserve it more than them, I’ve been with you, listening to your annoying voice every day” now you pinched her back “shut up or you really won’t get any”

“Do we really have to stay here with everyone? Your grandpa freaks me out” you chuckled “stop being rude to my family” “do we?” “let’s go outside”

And so you walked to the small garden behind your house, sitting on the cold grass with Ellie

“You seem happier this year…. do you feel happier?” you can see her toying with her fingers, staring at them to avoid eye contact “are you worried about me?” your gaze is now focused on your family, inside the house. You can see your friends almost eating each other on the closest window, it makes you laugh.

“The letter…. am I really that important to you?”

“You’re my best friend since forever el, you’re my girlfriend, why wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know, I thought I didn’t help you at all”

“You do”

You turned around again, facing Ellie. She was picking the grass. How were you supposed to leave her? How were you supposed to ever live without her?

You grabbed her face with your hands, pulling her closer for a kiss. Her lips felt just perfect for yours, her skin was so soft, her face just the right size for your hands to fit, her hair the right strength for you to feel it every time you two kissed. You couldn’t do this to her

You tried to break the kiss, but her hands moved behind your back, pulling you closer to her again and deepening the kiss. You could feel her smile trough the kiss, she’s so fucking pretty.

“I love you Ellie, I’ve always loved you, don’t ever doubt it” she laughs in confusion “I love you too” It was the third time you probably said it out loud, you really wished you would’ve told her sooner.

“I’m electric, a romantic cliché”

“Take this, I was planning on give it to you later but…. I guess it’s the right time” you looked confused at her, she was looking for something on her hoodie pockets. A rock

Maybe you should wait, just a little more, just for her.

The rock was painted with your favorite colors, it was your face. Why is she so lovely? Why can’t her love fill your heart? What’s wrong with you?

She slowly puts it on your hands, studying your face, looking for any reaction. You lean on her, hugging her as both of your bodies fall on the grass. You can’t see her but she’s definitely smiling.

“I can’t imagine a life without you Ellie, don’t ever dear to leave me” she thought you were just being romantic because of the gift, but you mean it, you hope you fin her always and forever. To hopefully have the life you won’t be able to enjoy with her this time.

Her hands rubbing your back, her nose smelling your perfume, nuzzling on your neck “I won’t, I promise”

“Let’s go for the cake, I can hear your stomach” you rest your arms on the grass, positioning each one besides Ellie’s face and giving her another kiss. Her eyes look so pretty.

The sky turns orange as you get inside the house again. You hate this part of the day because it means it’s almost over, and today specially you want everything but the day to end. You hope every smiley face in the house can forgive you for what you’re about to do, you hope they understand.

So now you’re siting in the middle of the table, with everyone you love around you as they sing happy birthday to you. Ellie is sitting besides you, taking pictures of you. And you can only thank her in a small whisper, and thank the universe in your mind for letting her have that picture as her last memory of you.

The minute the song is over everyone claps, watching you turn off the candle. You always wished for happiness, but today you’re just wishing for forgiveness. Your smile is wide, it hurts to lie to everyone there.

Before your mom cuts the cake for you as she usually did, you grab the knife and cut a big slice of cake for Ellie. “Can we open the gifts?” you ask loudly to everyone, knowing that way your parents wouldn’t make you wait more.

Everyone’s eating cake, sitting on the couches in the living room, most men in the room staring up, Ellie sitting besides you on the floor and offering you to open the gifts to “help you” but you know she’s just gossiping.

Whenever you didn’t like a gift you’d look at Ellie and she’s look back at you, like you could communicate with each other just with your eyes. She’d laugh and pass you another gift.

If you did like a gift then she’d take it from you and would stare at every detail of it. She’d separate discreetly the ones you liked from the ones you didn’t, she’d usually keep those or Insist you on selling them online.

However the more gifts you opened the more anxious you got. “Where’s your gift el?” you whispered as your mom passed you another gift, that seemed to be the last one. But it was way to small to be from Ellie “mine goes last, open that one, come on”

And so you did, it was a set of some pink pijamas, and the moment you opened them you turned your face at Ellie, she was already laughing “Shut up”

“Wait, there one more” you heard your mom speaking as she walked to the kitchen. Everyone looked at her, waiting to see what it was.

She returned with a big rectangular canvas. Did she just made a huge fucking painting for me? you thought, looking back at Ellie who seemed clearly nervous.

“I’ll give you the letter later, I didn’t want to get exposed in front of your whole family” she whispers

You take the canvas and turn it around. It was a portrait of a picture she took of you the day she asked you to date. It was so detailed, so colorful and just so right. You showed it proudly to your family. Everyone cheered Ellie and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her shy face, her cheeks covered in blush as she looked at her fingers, just as she did whenever she felt nervous. Your friends making fun of Ellie and you for being so “adorable” as you heard them say.

And the rest of the night Ellie just stood close to you, listening to everyone share all the fun memories and stories they had with you. She shared ridiculous things she’d lived with you, making you cover your face ashamed. But also making you laugh as she always did.

And you couldn’t be more grateful at the end of the day because finally, for one whole day you could finally be happy again, you didn’t felt pressured or anxious or sad or overwhelmed at all, and you were with everyone you loved. You could finally go, you were just waiting for living one happy moment in your life before you took such an important decision, and this was it. Today had been all you’ve ever wished for.

So when everyone left and your parents stayed cleaning you could only feel peacefulness overcoming your body. You went to your room and laid on your bed, Ellie was still there. She had to give you her letter and you couldn’t leave without reading it.

The big canvas was already in your room, right next to your bed. You were cuddling her as you read the letter.

“Happy birthday baby. I hope this year can be different, I hope you can get better, I hope you can be happier, and I hope I’m still here every day to see you smile more and more.

I remember starting the painting and regretting immediately because it was gonna take so long and I’m lazy as fuck. But I made it :)

I had to lie to you many times and tell you Joel needed my help with some stuff just so I could finish it, hope you didn’t get mad at it.

I’ve been noticing you off lately, but if I’m honest I’m too scared to ask. But you know you can always tell me anything, I’ll always understand and I’ll always listen, no judgment.

I’m proud of you for making it another year, and I’m the happiest person ever because I have you and I’m watching you try again and again. I know you’ll get better.

I still remember how nervous I was when I asked you to date, I can’t stop thinking about it lately, maybe it’s because of the painting? but I feel the same even after dating you for years, too cliche for you make me feel the butterflies on the stomach, a lot.

I’m glad we’ve got to grow up together, I can’t imagine this life without you. The other day you told me about this, about reincarnation and soulmates, I don’t believe on it, but if it’s real I’ll make sure I’m with you always. I promise.

I can’t wait for your birthday, I wanna see your reaction and I’m containing so much for not telling you already what it is. If you’re reading this then I didn’t regret writing you this or you found it without me noticing like you did last year, don’t do that again pls :(

Anyway, I want you to know that you’re the fucking best, the prettiest girl ever and I love you so fucking much.

Ellie :)”

She saw how you folded the letter, looking at your face for any response “I love you so fucking much too” you moved your head slightly up so you could properly kiss her. You’ve never kissed her so much in one day, you also wished you would.

She stares back at you, with those puppy eyes you love so much, and her dumb smile now a bit shiny due to the kiss.

Her hand moves to your neck, pressing your head on top of her chest. Her other hand moved to the puffy pink blanket that you had in your bed, moving it up to cover both of your bodies. Your hand moves on top of of her tattoo, caressing it softly with your thumb.

And before you realize you two fall asleep, not knowing how your life’s were about to change in less than twenty four hours.

Maybe it was the anxiety coming back but you woke up earlier than usual. You slowly removed Ellie’s arms from yours, placing them over your pillows.

You stood there for some minutes, just staring at her, at her gift next to your bed. Were you being selfish?

You slowly walked towards your desk, picking the letters and placing them on top of it so everyone could see them easily, you also placed your phone on top of them. This was it.

You hated yourself for not waiting for Ellie to leave, for making her see it and be there, but you had waited enough already.

You walked quietly and slowly to the bed, placing Ellie’s letter besides her. Then you walked to the bathroom, locking yourself in it just in case anyone woke up and went to look for you.

You regretted not taking your phone with you, maybe some music would help.

You slowly remove your clothes. You hear the water run. There’s so thoughts on your head right now.

You don’t even realize but the cuts are already there, making the blood run all over the tub and covering your body with it. Your eyes close and the only sound echoing in your ears is your own breathing.

This is nothing like what you’ve done before, this is it.

“Dear loved Ellie. El, Els

I love you so much, don’t ever forget it, don’t ever doubt it. I’m always gonna be with you and I promise, I swear that we’ll meet again. Please read this first before you do anything else. I’m probably not in bed right now, I knew you would stay, don’t panic.

Ever since you know me I’ve been sad, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I told you how I remember mas past lives when we were younger, remember? and you just laughed at me, but I want you to believe it this time. And I want you to never forget me, I want you to meet me again, in another universe where I’m happy and we can get to live anything we didn’t lived here.

I waited just for you, I tried my best, I promised myself I would only try once, and if I failed then I would take it as a signal to say, but I can’t.

Your jokes, your laugh, your pretty face, the songs you played for me with your guitar, you made me stay and try so many times, but I gave up.

I can’t live lifte this forever, and it hurts me deeply to leave you, because you don’t deserve this and I don’t want to leave, but the pain I feel every day is bigger than what I want.

It’s not your fault, it’s no one’s fault actually.

You told me that whenever I could say things out loud I should write them, but never keep them just for myself, and so I’m doing it right now, hoping you, Dina, Jesse, my mom, my dad, my family, you all understand. I know you will.

I want you to find someone else to make happy, some one that’s worth your fucking amazing and pretty self, someone else that truly deserves your time and your jokes, and your songs on your guitar. Someone that stays with you forever.

I feel so ashamed, I just couldn’t say to anyone out loud how tired I felt, how badly I wanted to die. How my first and kiss though if the day was death, how exhausted I feel every day for no reason. I can’t tell you that the moment you leave I feel overwhelmed again, I feel weak and alone. I just can’t.

I also wanna thank you for being with me every time, for teaching me how to live, for not giving up on me and for being always with me.

I remember the first time we kissed, the first time we slept with each other, how shy you got after that and how much you wanted to tell me but couldn’t so I found out by reading your diary. How mad you got for me reading it but how much you thanked me once we did it. I remember every single one of our dates. I remember the first time you talked to me and I talked to you, the first time you slept and my house and the first time I slept at yours. I never forgot anything, I won’t ever forget.

I remember how you told me you wanted to go to college just so you could work and make us my dreamed house, with an art studio for both of us and a room to have many cats. How you told me that you didn’t want any kids but since you dated me you could only think of having a cute baby that looked just like me. How you got mad when I told you I wanted my last name to go first.

And I want you to live that with someone that’s really worth it.

I’m so sorry for making you stay with me for so long, for making you waist your best years of adolescence and childhood trying to cure me and my sadness. And I’m sorry I’m leaving you like this. But I know you’ll understand.

Words cannot express how much I adore you, how happy you made me, how much I’m in love with you.

Please forgive me.

I swear we’ll meet again, I swear I won’t leave you again, I swear I’ll stay.”

She woke up your parents, your dad unlocked the door. They couldn’t take it.

Now they didn’t understand. Why would you do this? Why didn’t you tell anyone? Did you ever asked for help and they didn’t notice?

Why?

Ellie was too broken to cry. She wanted to look at you but her eyes could only stay at your wrists. She could never forget.

Your parents were on their knees, unable to think, unable to move, just crying.

And so was Ellie. She couldn’t believe just a couple of hours ago she was cuddling with you and now you were gone. How did that even work? There could never exist something more terrifying that your parents sobs. Should she leave? Should she stay?

Should she even try anymore?

She felt so much anger, so much desperation and anxiety in her body. She was so shocked she couldn’t do anything else than stare.

You were gone, forever.

It’s been just a month since you died. She’s been unable to move from her bed, not wanting to eat, not wanting to sleep, feeling dead. She’s been reading your letter nonstop, over and over again, almost memorizing it already.

And your parents? Your family? They’re all broken, how could any of this even happen?

Your funeral was shocking for everyone. Everything had happened so fast, in less then a week, just right after your birthday.

Did you really had to do this?

Everyone felt so sick, for not knowing, for not saying a proper last goodbye to you, for not giving you a proper gift, for not taking enough pictures and videos of you, for not speaking to you enough that last day. For not noticing snd for not helping you.

And Ellie could only hope that she’ll meet you again as you always assured her. That all this pain will disappear eventually. That the love she feel for you would actually help her.

“Me and you were meant to be in love. I see the signs of a lifetime, you ‘til I die”

[quietwingsinthesky]

rory and river also try to do a father-daughter bonding thing and it also goes horribly wrong but like in a completely different way. if amy and river's bonding is built around the tension of something amy doesn't know how to look at, doesn't want to think about, and that river barely knows how to approach. then rory and river's bonding falls apart because he is trying so so hard to make it work and to be her dad, and it is just. it's such an earnest effort and so meaningless in the face of who river actually is. if you take amy's choice to be representative of the doctor and rory's dreams, with amy as the crux on which they turn between them, with her reality being the one true one, then you can argue that her pregnancy in the village dream is part of rory's ideas for their future. rory does want kids, he'd like to have kids, and. he has river.

and river is his daughter, but river is not his child, you know? river's a child of the tardis. river's a weapon born to kill the doctor. river's a baby who was so illusory that she fell apart in amy's arms and they never really knew her again until it was far too late to change any of that.

so. world's worst. i don't know what people do with their fathers. world's worst fishing trip? with a man who reminisces about being made of plastic during the roman empire while he protected his future wife in a box. and a woman whose formative memories are of being trapped in a spacesuit that she could literally tear open from the inside and it still wouldn't be enough to escape forever. god, to be a fly on the wall of them trying to find common ground.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Napoleonville [Chapter 10: The House Of Saint Honoratus of Amiens] [Series Finale]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, smoking, drinking, drugs, weddings, Willis Warning, infidelity, kids, parenthood, Rice-A-Roni.

Word Count: 6k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @toodlesxcuddles @era127 @at-a-rax-ia @0eessirk8 @arcielee @dd122004dd @humanpurposes @taredhunter @tinykryptonitewerewolf @partnerincrime0 @dr-aegon @persephonerinyes @namelesslosers @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @daenysx @gemini-mama @chattylurker @moonlightfoxx @huramuna @britt-mf @myspotofcraziness @padfooteyes @targaryenbarbie @trifoliumviridi @joliettes @darkenchantress @florent1s @babyblue711 @minttea07 @bungalowbear @bluerskiees @herfantasyworldd @elizarbell @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fudge13 @strangersunghoon @wickedfrsgrl

Thank you so much for loving this strange, sexy, sweet story. I hope you enjoy the finale. 🥰🧁

Your bare feet in warm grass, your hands around the ropes of the tree swing, no sounds except the ancient psalms of the earth: cicadas, mourning doves, goldfinches, bumble bees, bullfrogs, wind in the leaves of the dogwoods and southern live oaks. The adolescent alligator is at one end of the front yard, sunbathing up by the mouth of the gravel driveway; in the opposite corner are several nutria nibbling on cattails. The sky is a calm, cloudless blue. It’s hot, mid-80s, even when 5:00 p.m. comes and goes; but the breeze is cool as it evaporates the sweat from your temples, your palms, the nape of your neck. It’s as close as Louisiana ever gets to Heaven. It’s a good day for a wedding.

You remember thinking that it was the end of the world when you found out you were pregnant almost exactly eleven years ago, and then again when you realized you would have to divorce Willis, and so you have lived through enough moments like this—these quiet, infinitesimal apocalypses—to know that there will be a future beyond Aemond marrying Christabel. The sun will rise tomorrow, and then it will set, the lightning bugs will appear and the stars will tell myths in the night sky, and the phone will ring as orders come in for the bakery, and Cadi will be back in her bedroom playing her Nintendo, and life will roll on like currents through the bayou: slow, opaque, inevitable. The world isn’t ending, you know that. It’s just full of beautiful things that aren’t for you.

Out on Route 401, a Plymouth Gran Fury zooms by the house, squeals to a halt, and then reverses until Willis can take another look, squinting through his tinted windows. He turns down the driveway and steps out into golden July daylight. He doesn’t pay any attention to the gator as he strides past her. He belongs here, in a place that is old and strange and savage and full of beasts. You have carved out a home for yourself in the swamplands; Willis was born with veins like the roots of a mangrove tree and ancient silt instead of marrow in his bones.

“Hey, sugar,” he says, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair. The wind ruffles the dark curls of his mullet, the bumble bees flee as he tramples clovers. “Ain’t ya supposed to be at the weddin’?”

“I’m sick.” A lie. “But Cadi’s fine, she’s with Amir. She was so excited she actually wore one of the sundresses my mom bought her and had Amir braid a dogwood flower into her hair to match his. You should have seen it. You would’ve been so proud.”

“I’m always proud of her,” Willis says, smiling. And then: “Ya don’t look sick.”

“I am.”

“Ya got one of your headaches?”

You pause. You don’t, but this is a convenient excuse. “Yeah.”

Willis stalls, his hands on his belt. His pistol is there; you remember how he used it in the bayou, how he helped save your life. But he wasn’t the one who jumped into the water. Aemond was willing to risk his body for me, but not his soul. What kind of sense does that make? “Ya had me scared for a minute there,” Willis says.

“What? When?”

“When I thought ya were goin’ to end up with that Rockefeller boy.”

“Aemond?” you say, like it’s so shocking. “No. Absolutely not. It’s impossible.”

“And why’s that?”

You stare into the trees so Willis can’t see the tears welling up in your eyes, the tension in your throat as embers kindle there, pulsing with heat that could char flesh to the bone. “He can’t marry someone like me.”

“I could,” Willis replies, grinning. You glare at him until he recants. “Alright, alright, oublie ça. Pardonne-moi.”

“Why would you be afraid of me and Aemond being together?”

“An oil tycoon? A millionaire? He would never stay here for long. In a town like Napoleonville? Soon as he was done getting’ those rigs up and runnin’, he’d go jettin’ off to some other corner of the world, and he’d take you with him. And Cadi too. I wouldn’t be able to fight that. What’s a parish sheriff to a Targaryen? Who would listen to me? Cadi would be gone and I’d never get her back. It would kill me. It would rip the heart right outta my chest.”

You look up at Willis from where you sit on the tree swing, the soles of your feet colored with soil and grass. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“No?” he asks, perhaps suspicious, perhaps hopeful.

“No,” you promise. “Cadi loves you. Cadi needs you to be in her life. I would never try to take her away from you, Willis.”

He nods; he seems to believe you. And something relaxes in him, like there’s been a tension in the lines of his spine and shoulders that you didn’t notice for years. “I’m sorry about your petit ami.”

“Yeah. Me too.” It comes out like a whisper, brittle and frail. “I’m sorry about Lake Verret.”

“They might be able to fix it. Talk around town is they got some kind of desalination”—he says this with each syllable enunciated distinctly, like he’s put great effort into memorizing it—“process that can take the salt back outta the water. And if that don’t work…” He shrugs with a sly smile. “I’ll survive somehow. The world’s a big place. There’s always another lake.”

You consider him, and you remember—like a dream from the night before that just returned to you—how Willis can be unexpectedly deep, randomly tender. “They should put that on bumper stickers.”

He chuckles and waves as he heads back to his car. “I’ll pick Cadi up on Tuesday. Back to the usual schedule.”

“Sure.” Back to real life. Back to before I met Aemond. And you find yourself wishing that you could forget what it had felt like to be with him; the absence he left feels so much heavier than the nonspecific longing that existed before. Willis’ Plymouth Gran Fury rolls out of the driveway, and you stay precisely where you are on the tree swing, absentmindedly pushing yourself back and forth with your tiptoes and trying to believe that tomorrow this will feel easier, and then even easier the day after that, and eventually it will cease to be anything but a vague recollection, a relic in a rarely-opened drawer, a whisper, an echo. One day, you will stop missing Aemond. One day, you will stop wondering whether a sliver of his life would have been better than none at all.

Inside what Cadi calls the Fall-Down House, the phone rings. You ignore it; if it’s an order for the bakery, they can leave a message. But then it rings again, and again, and you have to answer it. What if your mother had a heart attack? What if Cadi and Amir were in a car accident? You hurry to the kitchen and grab the phone, pink to match the little Panasonic boombox that is presently silent.

“Hello?”

“Hiiiiiii,” Amir says, slow and something else too. Disoriented? Evasive?

Your forehead wrinkles with confusion. “Where are you calling from?” There are definitely no phonelines running to the Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens, a tiny brick-and-stucco edifice built in the 1830s.

“I’m at a McDonald’s up the road. I’ve paid them $5 to let me use the phone.” And then, because he knows it’s the first place your mind will go: “Cadi’s fine. She’s eating Chicken McNuggets. Everyone’s fine.”

“Okay…?”

“I think you should come over here.”

“What, to the chapel?!”

“Yeah.” He’s talking to someone; you can hear an indistinct tangle of voices through the hand he undoubtedly has clasped over the transmitter.

I can’t see Aemond. I can’t see Christabel. There is a lurching in your guts; you are a fish that swallowed a hook. “I thought we agreed that I wasn’t going to go to the wedding.” I can’t handle it. It might kill me.

“Yes, we did, but now…um…I think you will want to make an appearance.”

“Amir, what happened?”

There is more muffled conversation on the other end of the line. “Look,” he tells you. “Things, uh…things are…occurring. And I think it would be better to explain in person.”

“Did you drop the cake?”

“No,” he says, defensive. “The cake is perfect, thank you for your concern. Not a single frosting wildflower was mutilated in the delivery.”

“Then why—?”

“Do you trust me?” Amir asks.

The answer is obvious. Of course. More than anyone. “You know I do.”

“Then go get in your car.”

You glance at the clock on the wall. “Okay, but you know it’s going to take me like 40 minutes to drive to Belle River.”

“That’s fine.” He confers with someone else. “Yeah, that’s good actually, that will work.”

“Great,” you say uncertainly.

“See you soon!” Then Amir hangs up, leaving you alone in the creaks and groans of your ailing house.

You take Route 70 around Lake Verret, gliding past fields of soybeans and sugarcane, paddocks of cattle and horses, marshes of cordgrass occupied by blue herons and white egrets and prowling alligators, stirring awake as the sun begins its descent into the west. More than once, you notice that your Chevy Celebrity’s odometer reports you are travelling well below the speed limit. You aren’t in any hurry to reach the chapel; you don’t want to carry the weight of what you will see there, Christabel in her wedding dress, Aemond in his suit, Alicent anxiously fidgeting and gnawing at her fingernails, Viserys parading around triumphantly. You can’t imagine that there is anything less than torturous for you there. You don’t remember what you’re wearing until you reach Belle River, a small, old town full of double-wide trailers and jetties that run far out into the lake: a simple cotton sundress you threw on this morning without much thought, modest but white and therefore forbidden for a wedding guest. The sky is turning from a sun-drenched cerulean blue to something more soft, more muted, as dusk lurks just a few hours away. The radio is playing Tracy Chapman’s Fast Car.

The Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens was built by a man in extremis. An acclaimed mason by trade, he had been born in France and settled in the New World in Louisiana when it was still in the possession of Napoleon. The mason had a wife and children—some people say 5, others say 8 or 10, though details always seem to grow more elaborate in the retelling, don’t they?—and he loved them dearly. But tragedy struck when every single member of the family, except for the mason himself, fell ill with tuberculosis. When healers of the earth failed to offer sufficient remedies, the mason appealed to a higher power. He built the chapel to implore Honoratus of Amiens, his wife’s favorite saint—she was a baker and a florist, both professions that Honoratus presides over—to intercede with the Almighty on their behalf. This effort proved futile, and as each member of the family died, the mason interred them in a brick vault beneath the altar where they would spend eternity together. Perhaps this makes for a peculiar wedding venue, yet for over a century couples rich and poor, religious and secular have traveled to the chapel to exchange their vows. Perhaps there are few things more romantic than loving someone in the face of total futility: illness, distance, unrequitedness, prohibitions, death.

The chapel sits in a clearing surrounded by live oak trees, massive, hundreds of years old, hanging with Spanish moss, blotting out the sunlight as aisles cascade through gaps in the leaves. As you park in the grass—joining an army of Lexuses, Audis, limousines, Porsches, Ferraris, Cadillacs, Aston Martins, Alfa Romeos, and Amir’s blue Ford Escort—you observe that there are perhaps fifty guests in formal attire milling aimlessly around the building. You peer down at your white sundress, frowning. Well, I can’t go naked. The faux pas will have to be forgiven. You step out of your Chevy Celebrity and make your way across the clearing towards the chapel.

There is a long table set up in the shade with a tower of champagne glasses, an ice sculpture of a dragon, and the banana bread cake you and Amir baked for the wedding. Grim-faced servants in black suits are cutting slices and handing them out to guests on green china plates. You recognize Aegon’s wife Stephanie chatting with a flock of young women in extravagant gowns, golds and emeralds and sapphires. Helaena is among them, wearing a shimmering blue-green color like the scales of her chameleon Dreamfyre. Evidently, the Targaryens’ exotic pets have been left at the mansion for this excursion.

“Well,” the princess of Monaco says sardonically as she takes a bite, the white cream cheese frosting covered with a kaleidoscope of wildflowers. “At least the cake is good. What is this, banana? Whoever heard of a banana wedding cake? I mean, it’s delicious, but still. I knew that Christabel girl was daft. Did you see her positively absurd dress? It looks like children doodled all over it…”

Is it over? you think as you weave through the crowd, largely unnoticed. Is the ceremony done already? Why would Aemond want to see me? To try to convince me to be his mistress one last time? To show me what I’m missing by severing ties with him?

But no: something else has happened. Viserys and Christabel’s father the marquess are embroiled in a heated argument; a nun and two priests are trying to haul them apart.

“You’re dead to me, Viserys!” the marquess roars. “And you’ll be dead to everyone back home once I tell them what you’ve done!”

“I did my part! This has nothing to do with me! Wait…wait…we can figure something else out! Wait! Wait! You can have Daeron!”

Wedding guests are gawking and snapping photos with their polaroid cameras. Upon hearing his name, Daeron glances over towards his father wearily. Alicent’s youngest son is kneeling beside where she has collapsed to the grass, patting her encouragingly on the shoulder as she sobs into a green cloth handkerchief. Criston is there too, trying to soothe her with sympathetic murmurs and a flute of pink champagne glittering with bubbles of carbonation.

“How did this happen?” she wails, peering up at Criston with her vast, dark, glassy eyes. The gold rings on her fingers clang and glint; they match the single hoop earring that Criston wears. Alicent’s gown is purple like royalty, but Criston is dressed in a suit of pale pink; it’s the exact same one Daeron has on. Groomsmen? you wonder. “He knows better than this! We raised him better than this!”

You think, stunned and petrified: Aemond, what the hell did you do?

As you approach the chapel, you note that it appears empty inside; you don’t spot anyone in the pews. Somewhere, a boombox is thundering Higher Love. At the entrance of the building, Christabel is sitting on the brick walkway in her wedding dress. It’s the one you told her to choose: elegant and timeless, long train and short flowing sleeves, silk wildflowers sewn into the white lace. Her bouquet is lying forgotten on the ground beside her. Her lips are a deep, lovely pink; her eyeshadow is gold. She’s smoking, something you’ve never seen her do before. There is a half-crumpled pack of Marlboro Reds and a lighter in her left hand, a single lit cigarette in her right.

“Um, hi, Christabel,” you say. And then, something equally brainless: “Is everything okay?”

“I should have known.” She’s staring out at the crowd, not at you. Her large blue eyes are dull, vacant.

“You should have known what?” Your heart is in your throat; blood pounds in your ears like the hooves of a racehorse.

“That he didn’t care,” she says listlessly. “I could tell that he didn’t. I could feel it. But I didn’t want it to be true, so I told myself it wasn’t. Isn’t that interesting? How we can lie to ourselves? Not that it was entirely my error. Other people meddled plenty. ‘Oh no, Christabel.’ ‘He’s just emotionally stunted, Christabel.’ ‘He’s busy with work, Christabel.’ What man is too busy with work to handle a five-minute phone call? It’s not like he was on the moon. He could have made time if he wanted to. I bet he made lots of time for you.”

“Uh.” You try to decide what to say. “I broke up with him, if that’s what you’re asking. I didn’t want to be his mistress. I didn’t think that was fair to you.” Or me, obviously, but right now doesn’t seem to be the opportune time to voice my own grievances.

“Next time, I’m going to choose who I marry,” Christabel insists, puffing on her cigarette. “He has to talk to me. He has to like me.”

Aemond called it off? What did he say? What is he going to do now? “Christabel…do you know where Aemond is? Or Amir and Cadi?”

“Alicent is so upset,” she says instead. “Poor woman. She’s sweet, in her own way. But I don’t want to end up like her.” Christabel holds up the pack of Marlboros and the lighter. “She feels guilty, I think. She gave me these. She had them in her purse, she has so many neurotic little habits, doesn’t she? It’s not very ladylike to smoke, but it’s not ladylike to get left at the altar either, so fuck it.”

You ask, afraid to know the answer: “Do you hate me? I didn’t know Aemond was engaged when I met him. And then…” Why lie now? What’s the point? “Then I was in love with him and it was kind of…too late to try not to be. But I’m sorry.”

“I don’t hate you,” Christabel replies immediately. “I know he would never be allowed to marry…someone like you. Your options were limited.”

You don’t know if this is meant to be an insult or not. “Thanks.”

“I don’t think I ever loved him either,” Christabel realizes, exhaling smoke. “I think I idolized him. I think I loved my fantasy of what our marriage would be like. But I didn’t love Aemond. I didn’t even know Aemond. You did, I suspect. Good luck with him. He’s a bit…complex.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, rather compulsively. You aren’t sure what she expects from you. Abruptly, from wherever it’s coming from, Higher Love is cut off. “So, is Aemond, like…around, or…?”

“I don’t regret the sex part.”

“Okay.” You examine the crowd in the clearing again. You still don’t see Aemond.

“That went well,” Christabel muses. “I’m glad my first time is over and done with. I was terrified it would hurt like hell. And so few people know, so it’s almost like it never happened, right?”

“Right,” you say obediently.

“I think I’ll have a new rule. I won’t marry anyone unless he likes me and we sleep together first. Life is too long to spend it with the wrong person, don’t you agree?”

“I totally do.”

“He’s waiting for you inside,” Christabel says, flicking ashes towards the gaping doorway of the chapel.

“Really?” you peer into the shadows; there is indeed a solitary figure standing at the altar. “So…what exactly is happening…?”

“Go,” Christabel urges, and takes a drag on her cigarette. You leave her and cross through the doorway into the chapel.

The light is dim and gentle; fading sunbeams slant in through the glass of the cathedral-style windows. The mason’s inspiration was Gothic architecture, imposing, cavernous. Two candlelit iron chandeliers hang from the high ceiling; the floor is made of tiles of black and white marble. Small stone sculptures of angels watch over their realm like benevolent gargoyles. There is a single stained glass window above the altar: circular like a ring, red and gold like the sun.

He’s waiting for you in a pale pink suit, long disheveled hair, thin mustache with flecks of white powder in it, mischievous smirk. “Hey cake lady,” Aegon says.

“Um. I’m not marrying you.”

“No, you’re definitely not.” Aegon offers you his hand and you take it with some hesitation. “I’m here to be your guide. Just like on the Oregon Trail.”

“What…?”

“Let’s go.” He pulls you out of the chapel, past where Christabel is still sitting at the entranceway, and across the clearing towards the trees. When you look to the crowd, Otto is elbowing his way through disgruntled guests towards a limousine, already idling.

Viserys bellows at him: “Where the hell are you going?!”

“Back to Kiribati!” Otto shouts back, not breaking his stride. He vanishes into the limo.

“Hurry,” Aegon says. He leads you into the forest, a thick canopy of verdant leaves and Spanish moss and the narrow rays of sunshine that tumble down through the gaps.

“Aegon, I don’t think we should be in the woods, it could be dangerous—”

“No, this part is fine. We already checked.”

“Who’s ‘we’?!” You’re wearing flip flops that catch on gnarled roots; the shrieking of cicadas grows loud. One of them buzzes towards Aegon and he screams as he backhands it away.

“You good?” Amir’s voice calls from farther within the trees.

“Yeah. I’m fine. We made it.”

You turn to Aegon. “What’s going on—?”

Suddenly, there is booming music that startles you: “Ooh, baby, do you know what that’s worth? Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth! They say in Heaven, love comes first, we’ll make Heaven a place on Earth! Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth!”

“Aegon, what is that?”

“Uh, I think it’s Heaven Is A Place On Earth.”

“Yes, okay, but why?”

“Ask that guy.” You round a thicket and there under a colossal southern live oak tree, surrounded by hundred-year-old branches that twist down to the earth, is Aemond; but he’s not looking at you. He and Cadi are lighting the last of the candles. She picks them up, he ignites the wick with the same lighter he uses to smoke his Marlboros, and then Cadi places them back on the ground or on top of a branch. Amir is standing by the large black boombox, the same one Aegon always listens to by the Targaryens’ pool. Amir grins craftily, pushing his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose. His suit is orange, the single dogwood flower in his hair white.

“Did we get them all?” Aemond asks Cadi.

“Yeah, I think so. Wait, no, there’s one over there!” Cadi darts to it and Aemond lights the candle, then spins around and sees you. He smiles. “Hi, Cupcake.”

“Hi,” you say, so shellshocked you can’t form any of your very vital questions.

“Okay, so we have the candles,” Aemond informs you as Cadi and Aegon go to join Amir. “White with wildflower patterns.” And you recall how Alicent mentioned needing to pick out candles with Christabel, and how you didn’t see any scattered around the chapel. They brought them here. They did it for me. “And we have some actual wildflowers.” He takes the boutonniere off the lapel of his white suit and tucks it into your hair behind your left ear. “And we have Heaven Is A Place On Earth.” He gestures to the boombox. “And I think those were the three things you said you wanted if you were ever going to get married again.”

I did say that. Just once, months ago, the first time he ever came over, the first time he ever touched me. “You remembered.”

“Of course I remembered.” He takes both of your hands in his own. Amir lets out a little squeal and covers his mouth as his eyes begin to glisten. Aemond takes a deep breath. “So, I don’t have a speech, because this is very last-minute. I mean extremely last-minute. But you were right about everything. And I realized I couldn’t live that way. It wouldn’t be fair to you or to me, but it wouldn’t be fair to Christabel either. So I broke it off.”

“Literally at the altar,” Aegon says. “In front of everybody. It was so fucking awkward.”

“Those are not necessary details!” Aemond snaps, then looks back to you and is smiling again. “I know what I want. I’ve known it for as long as I’ve known you. But I wasn’t a strong enough person to make it happen. I’m so sorry. I should have done things differently. I can’t change the past. But everything is going to be different now.”

You gaze up at him as Belinda Carlisle sings, thinking: This can’t be real. I’m going to wake up now.

“On the night we met, you told me you’d never felt chosen,” Aemond says. “I’m choosing you. And, you know.” He nods to her. “Cadi too. And Amir. And the bakery. And dealing with Willis too, I guess. All of it. I’m choosing you and your whole life and that’s exactly where I want to be.”

You can feel the warmth in your face, beaming and hopeful and full of possibilities. Under the shade of the southern live oak, the first lightning bugs are blooming in the air like stars. “What about your family?”

“I’ll figure it out. I don’t think my father can entirely disown me…turns out I’m the only one who understands how the stock market works. But no matter what, you and Cadi are the priority. And my father will have to learn to live with that.”

“Or he can drop dead,” Aegon says. “Whichever.”

It’s possible? We can be together? Not just for a night, an afternoon, a stolen moment, but forever?

“I said I don’t have a speech.” Aemond tells you. His right eye is bright, elated, gleaming like a mirror. “I don’t have a ring either. But I’m going to get you one, if you’ll let me. So I’m asking you, Cupcake: Will you marry me?”

“Say yes, Mom!” Cadi yells, and Amir bursts out laughing.

“Say yes, cake lady!” Aegon adds. “Unlimited Cap’n Crunch Treats!”

When am I going to wake up? When is this going to end?

But it’s not a dream. It’s real. And Aemond reads the answer on your face before you can say it, and so it’s only a murmur as he kisses you, a whisper, a prayer: “Yes.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The three of you drive from the new house all the way to San Francisco; you still call it the new house, even though you’ve owned it for a full year. The journey takes seven days, with overnight stops in Dallas, Wonderland Amusement Park in Amarillo, Albuquerque, Flagstaff, Las Vegas, and Bakersfield. Aemond sold his Audi Quattro and replaced it with a Dodge Caravan. It’s July 1989, and Tom Petty’s brand new single Runnin’ Down A Dream is strumming from the radio. It’s always temperate in San Fran, in the 60s even at the height of summer. The sky is overcast and grey. When Cadi complains that she’s cold despite the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles hoodie you packed for her, Aemond gives her his Marlboro jacket.

Amir, his boyfriend, and two other roommates share a sunshine yellow Italianate townhouse in the Castro District. Aemond parks his wood-paneled Caravan on the steep, inclined street—he narrowly misses colliding with a whooshing cable car, which he blames on poor depth perception—and then helps you carry the luggage inside. There are no alligators on the front porch, but there are neighborhood cats that Amir puts out Friskies for; there are no screaming cicadas, but there are swooping seagulls and the melodies of sidewalk musicians. When Amir opens the door, he nearly tackles you with enthusiasm. He still wears his loud colors and short shorts, but he’s traded in the dogwood flowers he once wove into his hair for dahlias.

Amir’s boyfriend is named Don, but everyone calls him Donald Schwarzenegger because he looks so much like the Austrian bodybuilder turned actor. When Amir first arrived in the city, he got a job as a cake decorator for a very popular bakery, and quickly segued into handling much of their marketing as well. He’s thinking of getting a degree in advertising and trying his luck in corporate America. You very much enjoy teasing him for being a sellout; what would socialist Bayard Rustin say?

“Call your Daddy and let him know we made it safely to the West Coast,” you tell Cadi once her things are unpacked in the guest room she’ll get all to herself; you and Aemond are consigned to the living room futon. Cadi chats with Willis for a while, then says he wants to talk to you. You take the phone, slightly concerned; you hope nothing is amiss with the house. “Hello?”

“What the hell is wrong with this horse?” he demands. “That ain’t no pet. That’s a demon. It’s a goddamn Rougarou.”

“I told you not to try to touch him,” you say, amused.

“I feed him and water him, don’t I? Ain’t that the least he can do? Lettin’ me scratch his big ol’ idiot head?”

“Patches is not very well-behaved. But Cadi loves him.”

“And don’t even get me started on the dog. Ugliest fuckin’ dog I ever saw. Growls every time I show up. Shows its teeth and everythin’. I’d take twenty gators over that son of a bitch any day.”

“Vhagar is a girl,” you say. “Thanks for watching them while we’re out of town.”

“Sure thing, sugar. Although I still don’t understand why the bon a rien can’t do it.”

“Aegon isn’t always…reliable.” But he does seem to be improving. He’s cut back to mostly just booze and marijuana, because otherwise he and Sunfyre aren't allowed to stay at the new house for sleepovers. There’s a guest bedroom, but Aegon prefers the sunken conversation pit in the mauve pink living room. He likes to be where anyone can stumble across him if they wake up in the middle of the night for pancakes or ice cream. He likes to be where people are; he likes to be included. “Anyway, I gotta go. Cadi will call again tomorrow. Enjoy your fishing.”

“Will do. Maybe I’ll toss your accursed animals in as bait.” Lake Verret is still a bit too brackish for a proper freshwater lake, but that’s changing gradually with Daeron’s desalination efforts and a subaquatic plug affixed to the opening of the breached salt dome. He views it as a pioneering experiment in reversing such drilling accidents, potentially for application globally. Now there are more bass and lampreys and catfish, and less breams and gars, but life goes on in Napoleonville’s 14,000-acre lake. Daeron has replaced Aemond as Viserys’ heir apparent, and he is thriving in the role. He is bookish yet empathetic, focused but never ruthless. Furthermore, he happens to be genuinely in love with his aristocratic fiancée: Princess Alexandra of Denmark.

Aemond was right; Viserys didn’t disown him, but he did fire him, ban him from the mansion, and reduce his available funds to a modest living stipend. Fortunately, Viserys has a very limited comprehension of how money works for normal people, and he considers $200,000 per year to be “modest.” With that plus your bakery earnings and a paid-off house, you, Cadi, and Aemond will be living comfortably for the remainder of your lives. Also fortunately, no one else will enforce the no-Aemond rule at The Last Desire, so anytime Viserys is out of town—which is far more often than not—you get to visit the Targaryens at the mansion as much as you please. Cadi loves the water slide and the koi pond. She’s named the fish after Greek deities, her latest obsession: Zeus, Narcissus, Athena, Dionysus, Artemis, Apollo, Echo. Viserys will not acknowledge you, but the rest of the family is polite enough now that the drama of the broken engagement has blown over. When you finish the cookbook of Southern baked goods that you’ve been working on, Alicent had pledged to mail copies to all her friends and relatives back in the U.K. Otto has offered to take a box of them with him next time he jets off for Kiribati; the wealthy housewives marooned in paradise are always on the hunt for new reading material.

On your first night in San Francisco, Amir serves a dinner of cioppino, sourdough bread, and (not homemade) Rice-A-Roni. You provide dessert, a recipe you’re still perfecting: Saint Honoratus cake, a pastry that dates back to Paris in the 1800s. You want to be able to include it in your cookbook, along with photographs from your wedding in the chapel this past May, almost exactly a year from when you and Aemond first met. Your engagement ring has a gold band and pink diamonds arranged to resemble a rockrose, a dauntless little wildflower native to Aemond’s ancestral homeland of Greece. For over a decade you have loved that wildflowers are grown and not bought, small but tenacious, humble yet untamed. They do not wait for other hands to tell them where and how to grow. They are the architects of their own fortune.

When everyone is finished with dessert and gathers around the tv to watch The Golden Girls, Aemond says he’s going outside for a smoke break; but you know he’s trying to quit. You follow him into the small backyard and as soon as your bare feet touch the grass, he’s pushed you against the wall of the house, forced your thighs apart, slipped his hand down the front of your shorts as he watches the amazed, electrified desire rise in your face like heat from a stove. “It’s been a week, and I need you,” Aemond murmurs, his lips ghosting across your throat, his hips braced insistently against yours, and then he kisses you to stifle your moans as you bury your fingers in his hair, to swallow down the vicarious ecstasy of every wondrous thing he’s ever done to you and ever will. “I don’t even need you to get me off. I just need to see you like this.”

Trusting him, wanting him, letting him make me come.

Aemond has been accepted into UC Berkeley’s History PhD program and will start there at the end of August. He wants to write books about underrecognized heroes, extraordinary and yet unassuming people like Bayard Rustin and Bobbi Campbell and Phillis Wheatley. You’ll miss him of course, but there will be breaks for holidays and summers when he can return to Napoleonville, and you can fly out to visit him too, and there are phone calls, and postcards, and one day you’ll be able to go anywhere together—

You gasp, a shaky, starving breath, your lips grinning into Aemond’s. You’re close, you’re so close.

There is a shrill whistle from the back porch of a townhouse from the row behind Amir’s. “Get it, honey!” a man in a leopard-print robe cheers, waving the newspaper he’d been reading. You and Aemond unravel from each other, laughing hysterically.

“Okay,” you tell him, still panting. “Bad plan. We are clearly not accustomed to city life.”

“Tonight,” Aemond says, low and commanding. He returns to you, kissing the side of your face: temple, cheekbone, the curve of your jaw. His voice is dark, jagged glass; his lips are soft like kind dreams. “On the futon, on the floor, anywhere.”

You want it too, but you know the game. “No.”

He pins you to the wall again, powerful, irresistible, his hardness grinding against you through his jeans, everything about him—voice, flesh, rhythm, soul—promising you the peace only he has ever given you, proving that being at the right person’s mercy can make you free. “I’m in charge now. Let me take care of you.” And for a split second you almost beg: Just do it, Aemond, right now, please touch me again, I don’t care if a stranger sees. I want you now, I want you forever.

Instead you smile up at him, the whirls of your fingerprints skating harmlessly over his scarred left cheek as you answer: “Yes sir.”

[judasgot-it]

Dad! Jouno headcanons...

He just looks like a stressed as hell father here. Someone help him.

Before ->

To be totally honest, I don't think Jouno would ever plan to be a father. He would never plan to be one simply because he is completely aware of how horrible of a person he is

Why would he bring someone into the world who could be exactly like him? Or worse, he would end up being a horrible parent?

He would just avoid any topic about it.

So parenthood is 100% an accident. Also, this guy would probably try to convince his gf to get an abortion at some point, cause he probably thinks he would make a child that's just that horrible

I feel like the best chance of him becoming a parent would be him not knowing about it when he got arrested and was forced into being a hunting dog. Can't tell your gf to abort when you're in jail ig. Also now he is legally obligated to pay child support. GOTTEM!

Personal theory tho.

He probably wouldn't be jumping for joy at the thought of parenthood tbh. If anything, he is freaking out. I feel like he's in between denial and freaking out. Probably gave some weird rant about the government.

During pregnancy ->

If he's miraculously there (I think the last part is more plausible. This would be his #felonera) then he would be stressed as hell

Dude knows that it's inevitable (unless he throws her down the stairs. or smothers the baby. He probably thinks some weird shit it's Jouno sorry) so now he has to prepare for a very near future of being a father

He can't have sex for what might be the next few years. He has to learn how to take care of a baby. He's made Tecchou-like food combo's now. His life is hell.

Jouno I think would only be dramatic for a month and then get over it quickly -> he has two people relying on him now. Even past his kid being born, he will inevitably have to take care of his baby mom for a while after and will have to provide. Like a dad.

He probably loves the attention and the title it gives him. Probably starts owning it and is thinking 'yeah, actually, I'm going to be an awesome dad' because he gets brownie points for doing the bare minimum as a man

Dude would be kinda ridiculous and do lots of shit just so he can get praise. He's going to be a great dad, so yea, ofc he's going to buy weird useless shit no one would actually use. It's what good dad's do (he's not even pregnant and is suffering from baby brain I think)

Is probably terrified of touching his gf because he is more than aware that his child is in there and it unnerves him. Probably is super freakish about the most random shit, like drinking coffee or going up and down stairs since he can hear whats going on.

His normal level of anxiety goes through the roof during this time. I feel like they won't ever go back down again.

During the birth he would probably be supportive although I think the sounds and smells would be so horrific for him that he would vomit and be kicked out by nursing staff

I feel like the birth was so bad for him to hear (sensitive hearing would be terrible. and smell) that he would be crying as if he pushed a baby out of his hole

Raising that Child (early years) ->

The early years are the worst for him. He still is in a stage between "I want to be a good dad" and "I'm a horrible person I literally have fucking killed people. He doesn't know I have killed people and enjoyed it"

Would have this crisis with a literal baby btw. Probably has full on very serious conversations with his kid about morality when his kid still drinks from the tit

I don't think he'd enjoy being around his kid fully until he starts actually forming full thoughts. Obviously, he loves him, but he enjoys weird kid questions much more than a baby who shits himself

Eggs him on too, tries to make him think until his brain hurts. He thinks it's funny, making a seven-year-old wrap his head around the concept of global shipping and LLCs.

He wouldn't give his kid normal child entertainment. It's all educational and weird shit. Also is very picky about their toys, he's basically a beige mom but its about noises and smells. NEVER give his kid something like slime, he'll go insane.

I think he's 100% the 'bad cop' parent because he would have a lot of rules that a little kid wouldn't get. I feel like the other Hunting Dogs would get on his ass about it

I think Jouno probably worries a lot about giving his kid a good childhood since I doubt his was good - he was alive during the great war as a kid, he turned into a criminal, and he's an ability user. not the best circumstances.

100% has been forced to bring his kid to his job, but he doesn't actually introduce him to any of his actual duties. Torturing? He can't know about that.

Jouno lets his kid hang out with his colleagues -> probably Tachihara, who I think would play the best 'uncle' role out of all of them

Later years ->

Personally, I think Jouno would have a son, but I don't think its a curse. I think it would actually be a sort of blessing, because Jouno was probably a lot nicer of a person before whatever fucked up shit happened that made him the way he is now.

Mentioning this cause I think his son would probably be a direct reflection of who he could have been -> more happy and carefree, and less on the offensive about everything

So when his kid gets older, Jouno is probably some weird guy who tries to tell his kid everything he 'wished he knew at that age'

Probably got his son to have a sex talk from one of the hunting dogs doctors. it was a traumatic bonding experience for the both of them.

He definitely fake kidnapped his kid like 3 times in case something happened. Jouno is a super soldier, but his son is not. He needs to learn how to stab people.

Gave his son a gun/knife. Insists he brings it school, no he does not care if it's against the rules - he literally is the law. His son is also a target, so it is necessary in his eyes.

God please someone stop him he thinks someone is going to murder his son every second of every day

I'm pretty sure his son is some dweeb that Jouno is almost jealous of - like he never got the opportunity to be a dork who cries about homework. he was too busy killing people in his gang at that age

Jouno definitely drops the most insane dad lore. "I killed werewolves in Kenya once" while in the middle of a PTA meeting

Worst PTA mom btw. He WILL interrogate his sons teachers and pull up their records, he is the worst parent. He really shouldn't be allowed there actually

Is a lot nicer to his kid when his son is older.

He isn't his 'best friend' but he tries to do everything he can to be a good dad -> he lives everyday thinking that it'd be his last one with his family, so he tries not to leave with a bad impression

Jouno probably lies awake at night with the thought of what his last words could be to his family

The bitchy teen years would be the worst cause Jouno would probably have the best comebacks, so any sort of argument would be shot down immediately.

i dont think he lets arguments fly at dinner. If he's even there. He would be very busy, so I think his schedule would be erratic. Although I think his son would be the same and stay up at 3 am and get a lecture from him

The hunting dogs all try to teach his son about basic things like shooting and self-defense -> Teruko definitely shot at him once or twice so he knows how to avoid an assassination attempt.

Was actually really proud that his son graduated from school and is a relatively normal member of society. He never even killed someone, that's a high achievement!

[slime-sandwhich-nom]

Don’t suppose you have any headcanons for Cosmo’s parents are their dynamics? I saw your post earlier and felt kinda bad for Mama Cosma (until she got toxic with Cosmo lol)

Also, I don’t mean to make u uncomfortable but I keep thinking about Cosmo blowing up half of Fairy World when he was born so I imagine how rough the pregnancy was.

ALRIGHT SO!

let's see ...

To be honest, in my head Cosmo parents were like those super sappy couples, kind of like Cosmo and Wanda are right now. Or like parents in a sitcom during the 90s.

Then schnozmo came in, and everything was still super great. No toxicity nor abuse, nothing.

Just a family of three in fairy world ( + personally I don't think any of them had any thoughts on godparenting.)

Then Cosmo came in.

I haven't really thought of it but it's kind of like this

happy family + new member of the family + somehow inherited powerful powers from jorgen side of the family and this is where shit goes downhill.

it's a whole series of events where they wanted to take Cosmo away because he was too dangerous (and strong), then the abolition of new babies, then assuming papa cosmo died (in my head it was because of a failing organ after getting turned into a fly, the same cosmo had a surgery on in the og series or something like that) then schnozmo went off and it was just mama Cosma all alone with this power baby she ended up attached on in a very unhealthy way.

it's like if the entire family slowly, very slowly crumbled and she held onto the first and only thing that was left of it, becoming clingy, toxic and neglective of cosmo actual needs.

also I do imagine her being sort of a boy mom in general.

for the pregnancy part I assume it was easier than Cosmo's only because they at least knew what to do.

Cosmo struggled so much because it's been thousand of years since the last baby, and he didn't even know what to do when he went to labor.

also by the baby flashback he seems pretty big for a normal sized fairy (taking poof as a comparison.) so..that was something !

I guess that was because of the jorgan genes.

(it can always be that poof was just odd shaped, though.)

But back to the dynamics (and headcanons)

- papa cosmo was generally a very calm guy, he's the true malewife staying at home taking care of the kids while mama Cosma goes to work.

- always cold for some reason (thank God mama Cosma is a living furnace, much like Cosmo.)

- he always had health problems, which lead inevitably to his death. (Organ failure.)

- there's a tiny bit of size difference between him and mama Cosma, she's taller and bulkier while he is more shorter and skinny.

(if you have seen the design post, you'll get a better idea of the size difference.)

- he gets extremely flustered and very easily too with mama cosma

- he died kind of..WHILE he was a fly because he was kind of already dealing with his organ failing.

To put it short, the organ fairies have that makes them shapeshift (which I don't remember the name for the life of me) was already failing, and when he got turned into a fly he..got stuck like that. leading to him to die because of it.

This means Cosmo failing organ that he replaced with surgery is inherited!

- it's clear Cosmo took the majority of his traits from his father, and this meant mama Cosma was always more attached to Cosmo than to schnozmo (who was also pretty similar but because of his big nose it didn't do the same effect) because she just..saw her husband in Cosmo.

- papa cosmo liked to knit and cook :]

- he probably had those nerd jobs like scientist or something. I remember seeing somewhere someone saying that papa Cosmo's job had to do with researching about humans which would help for the future god parents (assuming they need to learn how a human works, talks and behaves for future disguises and to make sure your god child doesn't die immediately) and its really cool so I took it. So whoever had this idea, credit to them.

- mama Cosma job was probably pretty simple, like a maid.

- in my head, despite mama Cosma putting all of her attention on Cosmo, she was still super clingy to schnozmo too just not as much and this lead to schnozmo desperately looking for a way to get away (since we saw in the show cosmo was like trapped in his own house at that point, assuming schnozmo had the same treatment.) and that's how he ended up in the crime world.

^^^ always assuming that she was starting to get too clingy with her own kids because of papa cosmo dying

- super straight thin hair papa cosmo x super thick curly hair mama Cosma (which lead to wavy hair Cosmo and schnozmo)

- this is a general headcanon for fairies, but I enjoy a lot how in the tinkle bell movie (1953) whenever she gets mad she turns all red, so now all fairies in FOP do.

- also, another headcanon but it's more Cosmo centered.

As much as I enjoy Cosmo, the og show brutally butchered him and since I can't go against canon that he's now an idiot and has a high pitched voice, I present to you these two headcanons.

(more theories than anything but I embrace them as my headcanons.)

vvv for context they're talking about pilot Cosmo and specifically the line "I gotta get this thing (wand) fixed."

And! The scene where Timmy eats part of Cosmo brain, which is also a reason why later on he gets slow and more incompetent.

+ after Timmy they retired and got their very earned vacation, which helped Cosmo a TON as we can see how in a new wish he's back being an actual decent person and competent again, but still has some side effects like the high pitched voice and being rather slow to get things.

Credit to the original commenter of course.

And yes, this doesn't change that he sucked in school. Cosmo was never academic smart, he was always street smart, I can see him sucking ass in school still.

Also with this hc we can have the trope that Cosmo went from awkward shy guy > smug happily married man because I love that trope.

I think that's it, from what I remember at least.

[thecapricunt1616]

Daddy!Carmy being used as a coloring book

Ok I was thinking about this too in regards to Daddy!Carmy. He would absolutely when getting tattoos reference the future on the (off chance he would tell himself but after he met his girl he would be grateful he thought ahead) chance he had kids he would make them pretty simple line art, and also something a kid would wanna color. For instance, the measuring cup would 100% be one that he knew a kid even nephew or Evie would color, and then the snail, the angels, the fish, the flowers- it would go a little something like this the first time it happened , (more BTC) 

Okokok so at this point, he likely has more tattoos. Carmy is a sticker sleeve guy like luca, so when his son was born since you’d called him ‘cub’ ever since he was known about pretty much, first thing he did was went to his tattoo artist friend & get this as soon as the babe had been brought home:

and of course when his daughter comes along he would have another little bear added. But for his daughter though, since she was always laughing and giggling all the time he would get something like this because you'd both call her silly goose since she constantly was giggling and snorting

ok ok so imagine Carmy is watching them one day, and theyre like 5 and 3. and his son just goes "Daddy can I color us in?" and carm is like just staring at him as he tries to dad decode what that could possibly mean until he poked the bear tattoo with the cap of his marker, and Carmy just gives one of those crinkly smiles and is all happy hes like "of COURSE bud, sure, go ahead, color any of em you want"

While you're sitting there getting your biweekly pedicure you get a video sent to you of your sons curly brunette hair covering the frame for a moment before he moves and you see him daintily trying to stay inside the lines while he colored in the bear tattoos. Meanwhile your daughter has a red marker ironic enough and is going in on scribbling the fuuuuck out of the knife hand tattoo on his hand, like murder scene red from how hard shes mushing the marker. She just points all proud and is like "Daddy see!!!" and you hear him trying to contain his chuckles hes just like

"Thats beautiful babygirl" and his son is like

"Look dad!!! Im orange and youre blue!! Like bluey and bingo!!! Now im gonna color the fish purple" and excitedly drops the uncapped markers on the table. By the time you get home, your daughter is down for a nap and your son and Carmy are watching the latest episode of bluey, Carmys tattoos have been completely colored in - and he has gained a few new marker tattoos at thanks of your daughter, including a few neck tattoos.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Down For Life

First Lady of Private Garden Instagram AU

Liked by y/ninsta, druski2funny, urbanwyatt, normani, jaysontatum, and 105,236 others

autumnharlow: daddy watching mommy's favorite show even though he said it was dumb

urbanwyatt: he's watching the bachelor again isn't he? y/ninsta: urbanwyatt and was mad as hell that his favorite contestant didn't get a rose lmao autumnharlow: urbanwyatt all we heard was him screaming at the tv, "Kelsea?! Kelsea?!? OVER MARIAH? Are we serious right now? How can he not see that the way she even spells her name is suspect?! who spells it like that?!" y/ninsta: autumnharlow not too much on my man now! lmaooo jackharlow: what the?!? who took this?! autumnharlow seriously? autumnharlow: jackharlow mommy made me y/ninsta: it be your own kids telling on you smh jackharlow: y/ninsta well you know if we were on that show, I would choose you every time blancahood: jackharlow I guess so because she would have fought anybody that came near you lmao y/ninsta: blancahood lmaoooo no lies told jessicakelce: I still remember her beating up that girl at lunch and she grabbed 2fo's milk and hit her in the back of the head quiiso: I WAS DYINGGGGGGG LAUGHING LMAO jackharlow: well that girl shouldn't have asked me to the dance IN FRONT OF MY GIRLFRIEND, she had it coming lmao urbanwyatt: and right before our winter formal lmao yungskylark: so we just chilled in her backyard that night because she got suspended lmao shloob_: look we were like either all of private garden goes or none of us goes 😭 y/ninsta: yall been down for me since the beginning and I love it 😭

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, 2forwoyne, quiiso, privategarden, jessicakelce, and 1,497,062 others

y/ninsta: idk who let these two out of the house unsupervised but it wasn't me 🙃

jackharlow: y/ninsta IT WAS YOU! YOU SAID I COULD GO! y/ninsta: jackharlow I don't recall baby. You just left me by my lonesome. jessicakelce: y/ninsta you not by your lonesome with them six kids you got lmao go bother them y/ninsta: jessicakelce I'm hiding from them axelwyatt: y/ninsta mom, I'm hungry y/ninsta: axelwyatt mom? who's mom? urbanwyatt: y/ninsta you better answer your kids lmaooooo y/ninsta: urbanwyatt I don't have any autumnharlow: jackharlow DADDY, MOMMY ISN'T CLAIMING US jackharlow: autumnharlow who...... who are you? blancahood: lmaooo yall are a hot ass mess smh ivyharlow: that's okay, I'm telling grandma jackharlow: IVY, YOU BETTER NOT maggieharlow: jackharlow too late. you two are starving my babies? jackharlow: maggieharlow they have eaten us out of a house, home, car, yacht, all of it smh normani: I see number 7 in the future jackharlow: normani give me a few years y/ninsta: jackharlow give you a few years to do WHAT?! jackharlow: y/ninsta love you baby 😘

Liked by y/ninsta, urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, blancahood, brandisimmons, saweetie and 3,286,451 others

jackharlow: I know yall can tell who dressed them today 🥰

y/ninsta: Cash and Cam, my greatest joys 😍 ivyharlow: y/ninsta soooo we don't exist? we are your first born children? jessicakelce: OMG THEY ARE ADORABLE saweetie: my cutest littlest nephews! y/ninsta: ivyharlow I'm not claiming you as my child until you clean your room like I asked now get off your phone before I take it ivyharlow: y/ninsta fine smh urbanwyatt: outfits courtesy of uncle urby and auntie curse 🥰 theestallion: jackharlow has gotten better with his fashion choices over the years so I expected nothing less jackharlow: theestallion I'm ignoring you smh dualipa: awww my little babies!! so cute! brandisimmons: and look at those smiles! druski2funny: I already know from the looks on their faces, they about to be bad as hell jackharlow: druski2funny you better shut the hell up and not speak that into existence y/ninsta: druski2funny imma whoop your ass druski2funny: yall remember when I was babysitting the triplets and they tied me to a chair and put tape over my mouth? I was trapped for hours jackharlow: druski2funny lmaoooo I still have photographic evidence, how could we forget? y/ninsta: nah, but urbanwyatt got the worst of it because he was put in solitary confinement lmaooo urbanwyatt: y/ninsta don't bring up old shit smh jackandy/naremyparents: still so happy to witness the life that they created for themselves allthingsy/n: been here since the beginning and still going strong!

Liked by urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, blancahood, saweetie, quiiso, privategarden, and 2,384,200 others

y/ninsta: the face I make on a daily basis because these kids have me fighting for my life

jackharlow THIS IS YOUR FAULT

jackharlow: you wanna make another one? y/ninsta: jackharlow BLOCKED dualipa: jackharlow you've done enough lmao get off of her jackharlow: dualipa I can never do enough y/ninsta: jackharlow SAYS WHO? jackharlow: y/ninsta me 🥰 y/ninsta: normani look what you started smh quiiso: jackharlow y/ninsta yall can have another one and give it to me jackharlow: quiiso yeah right, all y/ninsta has to do is take one look at them and she's going to want to keep them brandisimmons: jackharlow she has a nurturing spirit, we all know this. that's why she was able to keep yall asses in check 2forwoyne: brandisimmons now why am I in it? brandisimmons: 2forwoyne because you liked to steal people's food back in the day smh 2forwoyne: look if it was left unclaimed, I was eating it y/ninsta: 2forwoyne sounds like my second born smh axelwyatt: maggieharlow they still didn't feed me jackharlow: axelwyatt now why are you lying? 🙄 maggieharlow: jackharlow that's okay. I'm coming to get them and feeding them and you can't have any claybornharlow: I'm coming too jackharlow: claybornharlow the accidental child has returned y/ninsta: JACKMAN STOP IT RIGHT NOW claybornharlow: y/ninsta it's okay, I'm just biding my time jackharlow: claybornharlow what are you planning? 👀👀👀 y/ninsta: oh good lord smh claybornharlow: jackharlow that's for me to know and you'll find out when the time comes ivyharlow: uncle clay just blame it on autumn, she does everything else she's not supposed to autumnharlow: ivyharlow and that's why you're adopted ivyharlow: autumn, I look exactly like our mother, try again axelwyatt: I'm still the favorite sooooo the two of you arguing is unnecessary smh

Liked by jackharlow, cardib, generationnow, estgee, lilnasx, drusi2funny, 2forwoyne, and 4,291,763 others

y/ninsta: Ivy, Axel, Autumn, Nova, Cash, and Camden Harlow's momma 🥰

Damn that was a mouthful 🤣

jackharlow: we going for number seven 😍😍😍😍 y/ninsta: jackharlow don't make me block you again saweetie: jack, pleaseeee let my girl live lmaoooo y/ninsta: saweetie that's okay, he's going to wake up one day and hear the tires screeching out the driveway and he'll have to fend for himself for 48 hours urbanwyatt: jackharlow and don't call me to help you druski2funny: jackharlow or me. I've had enough of my fair share of terror of the Harlow children y/ninsta: NOT TOO MUCH ON MY BABIES NOW 🤨🤨🤨 autumnharlow: y/ninsta nice of you to claim us, mother y/ninsta: autumnharlow don't you have homework to do? jessicakelce: the blue hair baddie has returned! sza: do I hear a girls trip in the future being planned? jackharlow: sza NO. not unless y/ninsta can put me in her suitcase quiiso: jackharlow now bruh....... urbanwyatt: jackharlow lmaoooo now you know good and well privategarden is having flashbacks from the last time when we had to BEG neelam to buy you a plane ticket to go and see your wife yungskylark: he had everybody's ass stressed out claybornharlow: and was getting on maggieharlow's nerves so I know it was bad lmao she was calling me saying 'please come and get your brother to entertain him because I don't know how much more I can take' lmaooooo axelwyatt: he's been a simp since he was 14 and nothing has changed jackharlow: axelwyatt being a simp is what got you here so tread lightly and you are just as bad if not WORSE than me when it comes to your mom autumnharlow: hmm dad has a point, ax y/ninsta: yall better not come for my baby! jackharlow: y/ninsta I knew you'd have my back 🥰 y/ninsta: jackharlow I was talking about axel jackharlow: y/ninsta SO YOU JUST LEAVE ME TO FEND FOR MYSELF? y/ninsta: jackharlow yes, you can handle it urbanwyatt: LMAOOOOOOO axel is literally jackharlow in a kid's body

Liked by brandisimmons, theshaderoom, blancahood, sza, theestallion, jaysontatum, urbanwyatt, and 2,182,963 others

y/ninsta: my face when jackharlow suggests we make another baby. SIR, MY VAGINA IS TIRED 😫

saweetie: jackharlow imma have to kidnap her if you don't let my girl live in peace jackharlow: saweetie not too much on me now. yall remember last week when you, her, and hot chips went to brunch and drank all those damn mimosas? I came to get her, drunk off her ass and she was damn near trying to rip my clothes off as I was driving. IT'S NOT ME, IT'S HER urbanwyatt: lmaooo and I was a witness to this so jackharlow is in fact not lying lmaoooo sza: hmm we have evidence in the group chat that suggests otherwise, but since you have a witness this time, imma let it slide y/ninsta: jackharlow I... what? not you telling on me jackharlow: y/ninsta I had to defend my name! you always throwing me under the bus! claybornharlow: jackharlow actually you do that to yourself, but.... druski2funny: now why am I up there? what I do?! y/ninsta: druski2funny you cheap as hell for giving the triplets a coupon to mcdonalds for their birthday and told them that they had to all share the medium fry that the coupon was for blancahood: PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEE 2forwoyne: now druski2funny you know better lmao lilnasx: he ghetto as hell and he doesn't know any better smh druski2funny: y/ninsta I HADN'T GOTTEN PAID YET jackharlow: druski2funny lies you tell jessicakelce: their faces were priceless lmaoooo autumnharlow: and he wonders why he got tied up smh axelwyatt: playing cops and robbers, but there was nothing to rob since he didn't have anything normani: I AM LITERALLY CRYINGGGG druski2funny: now why everybody coming for me?!? y/ninsta: druski2funny and you wanted to be his life partner so bad, but cheap as hell? that was not about to fly smh jackharlow: y/ninsta sooo about number seven? y/ninsta: jackharlow you know I'm down for you for life but.... ABSOLUTELY NOT smh jackharlow: well it was worth a shot I guess smh

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[sirianasims]

The Don Diaries

Another day, another drama! It's Sunday, the day after prom, and Nicolo is up for his 6 AM jog like the overachieving maniac he is.

Meanwhile, Adriana and Don are having their customary Sunday mother/son brunch of french toast so she can hear about how prom went.

Since Nicolo is working today, they go to the Flea Market to hang out and try some new and exciting food.

While they are enjoying their samosas and curry, however, we discover something new about Adriana, which may help explain why she decided to stay home after Don was born.

Poor Adriana 😭 She's really not enjoying this, so after lunch, she goes home. Don, however, decides to hang out a bit.

There are, after all, girls to meet! And while Don did hit it off with Alena after prom, and has a bit of a crush on her, you never know.

Don heads inside and runs into a girl in the arcade, Julie. She's heart-farting all over herself, which should be a good sign.

Don and Julie have fun and play some games, but Alena must have felt a disturbance in the force.

She and Don have been exchanging messages so there's a bit of a budding romance going on.

Stay classy, Don.

Alena seems to sense that Don is out chatting up other girls, though, because this happens.

So they meet up at a different arcade. The vendor is just happy to be there.

Don, future womaniser extraordinaire, decides to tell his date that she's his, uh, favourite.

Surprisingly, she responds positively to this - for reasons that are unfortunately about to become apparent.

And so, after some more flirting, Don actually manages his first kiss! He's ecstatic.

He even pushes his luck, and...

Don couldn't be happier.

That is, until…

Close-up of Don dying inside.

Don is a romantic kid with parents who model a perfect committed marriage of soulmates. He was not prepared for this.

They hang out for the rest of the date, but Don does not seem as thrilled as someone who just got his first kiss and first girlfriend in one day should be.

He gives her a chaste kiss on the cheek as goodbye.

Poor Don.

No need to rub it in, Alena.

And just when Don gets home and thinks this awkward day is over…

MOM COULD YOU MAYBE KNOCK??

It doesn't matter how supportive and sex-positive your parents are...

... the WooHoo Talk is never not awkward.