#mouse's mom watches the bear

[sexilene]

husband!rafe and your kids attempt to prepare you a mother's day surprise! 💐

rafe sets down your daughter so she's sitting on the table after helping her put up some pastel ribbons, hearts and banners for decoration so he can walk over and check on the pancakes your son was in charge of.

"hey bud, those pancakes are lookin' a little...come on dude" he looms over the boy and put his hand on top of the little backwards baseball cap over your sons head. 

"it's supposed to be mickey mouse!"

"well it looks like a sad bear...think mom will think they're cute?" rafe makes a face and turns his head to see more of the "sad bears" already on a plate.

"what do i know!?" your son shrugs and drops a few more chocolate chips onto the cooking pancake.

"ehh s'alright we'll just cover'em in syrup, whipped cream or something" rafe reasons with himself when your son arm swings back after trying to flip like a chef, ironically the most decent looking pancake flies to the opposite wall and splat! its ruined. 

"aw man!" your son whines and rafe gasps dramatically. "careful!! jesus!!" he rushes over to clean the mess on the wall when your daughter screams and points to the oven. both rafe and your son's heads turn quickly to where she's pointing. "what? what's wrong baby?" rafe asks all panicked.

"dad! the oven!" your son backs away from the pancakes as the oven pours out black smoke, the french toast on fire. "what is that!?" your son furrows his eyebrows and runs to open a window. "its the french toast- or it was." rafe's face hardens in concentration, hoping the fire alarm wouldn't go off and wake you up, he grabs a towel to start to "put out the fire" or "cool it down" but that just makes the fire worse causing the alarm to ring. your daughters hands fly to cover her ears as she sits there watching, your son grabs the water in the glass jar on the table and hands it to rafe who splashes it on the flaming french toast. 

"what's going on!?" you walk into the kitchen in you nightgown, picking up your daughter and holding her on your hip. the alarm still ringing, you turn your head to see your son stood on a chair trying to get the smoke away from the alarm to get it to stop. "go back to bed mama! everything's fine!" rafe shouts over the ringing and closes the oven quickly, he takes your daughter into his arms so he can shoo you away. 

"kay guys, what do'we got?" rafe sighs after sorta cleaning up the mess and sits on the table with his kids. "we've still got the pancakes." your son points to the now broken plate with ruined pancakes due to the commotion earlier. 

"uh nah bud, we've gotta scrap that." 

"i have bubblegum grampa gave me for easter!" you daughter lights up as she offers. "no princess, you keep your bubblegum, we'll think of something else." rafe smile and smooths his hand over her messy baby hairs.

"well there's vanilla ice cream in the freezer and at least a few chip's ahoys in the pink jar." you son's eyebrows shoot up at the realization. "and strawberry wafers above the fridge." the boy points to where the wafers where supposed to be hidden. 

"right, that works..." rafe smiles and picks up your baby girl to place on his hip and give a bunch of kisses to. 

"oh my goodness! whats this!" you smile brightly sitting in your bed, pausing the movie you were watching as you see your little family come through the door, your daughter runs up to your side and hands you a card she made with glitter and lace. "thank you baby this is very sweet." you place the card against your heart momentarily, rafe walks up and places a silver tray on your lap with little scoops of ice cream, wafers and cookies. "happy mothers day mama" rafe smiles, quite proud of the little breakfast they managed to come up with last minute. 

"thank you baby" you continue to smile, reaching your hand out to place on rafe's cheek as he bends down to give you a kiss. "there's more ice cream if you want s'more after, happy mother's day!" your son says smiling showing all his teeth and handing you a bouquet of casablanca lilies and a few of his baseball cards that he considers presents, you giggle and reach over to embrace him as well.

"s'very nice of you guys, so many beautiful mother's day presents!" you tell your kids.

"its not over yet, i've got s'more gifts for you in the living room." rafe grins and hands you a spoon for the ice cream. "i love you do you know that?" he asks and you nod.

"i do, and i love you, all of you guys very much. what happened in the kitchen earlier? everything okay?" 

"i just wanna say again, i love you so very much." rafe smiles innocently ❤️

i wanna marry himmm

[futurepastme]

I'm all for the "hates killing animals" Merlin (and that can still be true), but a conversation at work today made me realize that Merlin is a peasant and I don't remember cannon enough but if he's not also a farmer (even if a small one) he's definitely had to kill and prepare animals to eat before, either just for himself and his mom or to help people around in Ealdor.

Now, consider Arthur and the rest of the knights of Camelot. Before Arthur started to knight common men, they were all nobles. They were taught how to hunt, of course, but they never really needed to prepare the game they'd caught before, they all had servants and cooks to do that. They had learned how to hunt for sport and that was it.

All that to present the concept that: Before Merlin came to Camelot, Arthur and the knights (reminder: not our knights, the noble ones that Uther approved of and were already there before cannon started) had to survive quests mostly with the rations they took with them, only turning to hunting as a last resort because they all suck at preparing their catch.

They'll either skin them wrong, losing a lot of meat in the process or will simply be bad at cooking it, most times burning it a little. And the flavour, of course, sucks.

Arthur, I think, would be the only one to be half decent at that because I like to believe Uther would like to have him ready for any outcome, but he was the prince and nobody would dare to ask him to cook for them and we're talking about a before-Merlin Arthur, so I don't believe he would volunteer because at this point he's a prat.

Then comes Merlin, the idiot that was recently awarded the position as Arthur's servant. And the knights all know that Merlin is useless because Arthur's been complaining about him since day one.

Now the bumbling fool is following them to some mission somewhere and they have no hopes that he'll be of any use at all. That won't stop them to order Merlin around like the inferior peasant that he is, though.

But then.

Then they get delayed and have to hunt for food.

And of course Merlin is in charge of cooking it, because now that they have a servant there, there's no way any of those nobles will get their hands dirty with such an inferior task such as cooking.

They catch an animal (any animal, honestly. I don't care, from a mouse to a bear, it's up to you) and promptly shove it towards Merlin with no hopes of a good meal, but with the assurance that at least this time it would be bad because of a servant and they all would be allowed to complain about it with no reservations.

Then Merlin sits there by the fire, with a barely sharp enough knife and whatever animal they had caught, and seamlessly and smoothly skins the thing.

It takes him no time at all and there are no chunks of meat missing. Clumsy, idiot and useless Merlin had perfectly skinned the creature in a matter of seconds, like it was the easiest thing in the world, and had not damaged neither the meat nor the pelt.

They all kind of stop what they are doing to watch Merlin as he starts to cook the perfectly skinned meat. They stare as the boy seems to put green plants on it and some type of powders he had in his satchel, befuddled and confused.

And when they finally get to eat it, by the gods, if it isn't the best thing they have ever eaten outside of Camelot.

Slowly, the rumors of Merlin's skills start to spread amongst the knights and soon enough all of them are dying to try it.

In a matter of weeks all knights of Camelot agree that if you happened to end up in some type of quest with the prince, you're the luckiest bastard to ever live, not because of the honour to fight along the prince, but for the chance to eat a meal prepared by Merlin.

By the sixth month of Merlin tagging along with Arthur, the rations they bring to quests and such become the last resort food or maybe just side dishes, because if Merlin is at the party then hunting is mandatory, for every knight of Camelot loves Merlin's food. (Arthur is chef Merlin's number one fan, btw)

[cutieeva]

Love of immortal

Female reader

Warnings : Kidnap. Minor injuries. Molestation. Mention of rape.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

Mermaids, sirens and more mystic creatures belongs to myth but more importantly came from ocean adding another layer of mystery to the ocean than it was already to (Y/N) who dislike oceans for petty reasons but it was the creature lurking under the ocean who consume her in the end.

Ocean. For some it's the peace of water that calms and erase their hard version of reality while for others a symbol of nightmare where tragic acts occur to horror them however (Y/N) somehow falls on the between of category. She neither has love or horror nor despise rather she merely dislike the ocean. Why ? Any actions or tragedy ? None rather she doesn't perceive ocean safe only because it is a mystery itself. She often find herself comparing abyss and ocean because neither of it has any predict of dept and once stare too much it can consume you. She pretty much fears the mystery lurking underneath the picturesque waters when bleamed by the golden rays from above the skies.

However who would ever predict that (Y/N) one day will be sitting on a cabin cruiser boat along side her older brother's family.

"Aunty ! Aunty ! Look at the gold fishes !" Her adorable five aged nephew cheerfully point at the little fishes swimming their ways.

"Yea, Yea". Her shoulders shrug glancing at the pretty ocean creatures yet a unknown shivers tense her spine just staring at the dept of water. An alarm inkling creep within her stomach making her (E/C) eyes avert to the lovey dovey couple.

"They pretty much brought me because they wanted a free babysitter. I am sure". Irritated she scoff earning her brother's attention.

"What ? Stop being so bitter just because you had to come in place of dad and mom". She rolled her eyes remembering how heartlessly they are traveling around the earth together leading them to turn down their son's invitation to the cabin cruiser boat he was offered by the company due to his excellence performance however they are family of three and they wanted no outsider to invade their holiday where they are free to be themselves and enjoy the blessed time choosing (Y/N) who is single, on her holiday and have nothing better to do. She was a substitute to her parent's place and abducted from the safety of her four wall she calls home by her brother only to watch their public affection and monitor their child.

"Shut up before I fucking cut your throat". Not holding back she cursed after placing her hands over the innocent boy's ears. Her brother, Anton click his tongue in annoyance while his wife, Maria who (Y/N) very much have connection alike an sister chuckles.

"You know I married you for your sister's company ?" She teased making her husband's mouth agap and catch her waist only for her to slip through his hands and playfully step back.

"What the ?" He tried to catch again only to lose turning it into a cat and mouse catching game where the couple laughed heartily.

"Ren want to ! Ren wants to play too ! Ren wants to play too !" Her nephew adressed himself as third person join to play the game too chasing his father. The scene evolving in front of (Y/N) won a laughter over her lips. The adorable family stare at her melody like laugh unable to seal their happiness too. Transformating the distant air to mellow unaware that caught the eyes of an mystic.

"How about I also catch aunty ?" In playful tone her brother presented went towards her to catch which ended him with a punch on his face.

"Don't". She snort watching his face twist into deep frown.

"How cruel". He commented

"Look who's talking". She remarked.

"Wifey, I am wounded. Please help me". Faux a sad tone he layed on his wife's embrace curling himself small when in (Y/N)'s view he looked like an bear trying to fit on top of an human.

"Yikes ! What a rubbish".

"Ouch ! Wound me again".

"Eww". Regret lace her voice on how on earth this grown man is her brother instead of an cool gentleman she saw others have. She side eyed the man getting coaxed by her sister-in-law who looks glad.

"What a teriffying thing love is". She shake her head to which her open (H/C) hair flow at the rhythm of cold breeze sparing a certain someone her entire view.

"Oh look !" (Y/N) eyes follow Maria's finger pointing to the ocean.

"An dolphin". Excitement sparkle Ren's eyes making (Y/N)'s eyes wide knowing exactly what this little trouble about to do.

"Ren stop". Despite her warning the oblivious child race to the railing tempt to touch the creature he finds fascinating, his little hands raise to cross the railing before (Y/N) caught his wrist. "Ren don't !" She yelled hugging the boy closely noticing how not one but tons of dolphin are either side of their ship.

"What in the world....?" A dread fill her stomach counting at least twenty or more dolphins surround their ship. "Anton, Maria stay away from the railing for now—MARIA !" She turn her head to find the woman reach her hand to pet the aquatic mammal.

Still cradling the boy she hastily slap her sister-in-law's wrist away. An inch. An inch was their gap she realized calming her pumping heart.

"(Y/N) ! What's your deal ? Why did you overreact ? Maria simply wanted to touch the dolphins also isn't it safe to pet them if they approach you first ?" Anton glare at his sister rubbing his wife's skin lightly.

"You are blind. Can't you see how many dolphins have surround us ? It's an alarming rate to ignore. Also as much as it's fine to pet. You can only do if you are a professional because only they know how to react to their behaviors not us !" (Y/N) glare back, guarding her sister-in-law as she watched in disfavor to the dolphins that tilted it's head. "And their sensitive parts are usually melon means forehead, eyes and blowhold and if petted could result to serious injury". She added noting how the group of dolphins are swimming in circle manner within themselves.

"Something is wrong. Very wrong". She narrowed her eyes at the dolphins she isn't much fond due to their another less known pet name 'the gangster of the ocean' since their behaviors doesn't match their innocence alike appearance where they forcefully rape other female dolphins, use pufferfish as their play toy resulting their deaths, mess with sharks for amusement and such. As much as they are intelligent enough to save a human as well as to drown one too.

"What are they doing ? Only dolphins are surrounding us not other fishes". Unease followed trying to find an answer for their pattern that might be normal yet something, something brewing inside her says otherwise.

"Just calm down and rest, we must not provoke them then they will go in their merry way". Maria tested to cheer up yet failed seeing her frown deepen so she nudged her husband.

"What ?" He whispered leaning near her.

"Do something !"

"What can I do when she is a grumpy cat". He groan when she hit him on his ribs.

"It was a command, mister". She smirked.

"(Y/N) it's alright, there is nothing to worry sometimes dolphins tend to circle around the ships, boats as a sign of protection or curiosity". The (H/C) haired woman nod remembering indeed she read that in an article at her brother's word.

"Okay. Also forgive me for suddenly slapping your wrist and yelling". Guilty weight on her voice as she apologized.

"It's alright. You were doing for our own sakes". Maria smiled revealing her side dimple.

"Still stop being a worrywart". Anton not forget to comment loving his sister's muttering curses. (Y/N) sighing stretch her head putting her nephew down to stretch her arms as well to finally focus on the rare opportunity.

"So empty". No other ships or boats seen yet "So beautiful". The ocean's vast expanse gleamed like a canvas of molten gold, as the sun's radiant beam danced across its waves. The water's surface shimmered and sparkled, a dazzling display of light and color, as if a thousand diamonds had been scattered across its surface. Above, the sky was a brilliant blue, with just a few wispy clouds scattered across it, like cotton tufts carried on the breeze.

In the distance, a line of birds flew in perfect formation, their silhouettes etched against the sky like a delicate pen and ink drawing. They moved in unison, their wings beating in a slow, hypnotic rhythm, as if choreographed to the ocean's gentle swell. The sun's golden rays caught their wings, casting a shimmering glow around each bird, like a halo of light.

As the birds flew overhead, their soft cries echoed through the air, blending with the soothing melody of the waves. The ocean's gleam seemed to intensify, as if reflecting the joy and freedom of the birds in flight. The scene was one of perfect harmony, a symphony of light, sound, and motion, where the ocean, sky, and birds blended in a glorious celebration of life and beauty she ever seen at one sight is truly to behold. An living art is what deity has bestowed humans in form of nature. For a moment truly did all of her tension, clouded thoughts wash away lifting her mood.

Eyes too captured to blink as if the sight would lose from her grasp when her breath hitched and eyes wide in rejection because a huge dark patch of figure in between the dolphins is swimming at her side. "What is that ?" She whisper in utter confusion.

Immediately did (Y/N) search her bag to find her binoculars and squint to look clearly yet to no avail did she success in figuring the creature out. "What is this ? Another sea animal ?" Curiosity ate her as she sat near the railing waiting to understand. "Are the dolphins protecting the thing ?" Because the figure only move in between the dolphins that circle around it, also if it were enemies the fight would had broken out already.

SPLASH ! Disbelief paint her expression witnessing an tail flared out of the water, its vibrant green scales glistening in the sunlight. The tail's surface rippled and flexed, revealing a mesmerizing pattern of lighter and darker shades of green, like the swirling hues of a tropical lagoon. For a fleeting moment, the tail's full majesty was on display, its sleek, streamlined shape slicing through the air. Then, with a swift motion, it vanished beneath the waves once more, leaving behind only a hint of its presence—a whispered promise of secrets hidden beneath the surface.

"It's impossible ! That was almost like an mermaid !" She screamed standing up from her seat startling the family who had been engrossed by the fishes on other side, their heads jerking up in unison like puppets on a string. Silence spread except for (Y/N)'s heavy breathing, as if the very air had been sucked out of it. Anton's family exchanged bewildered glances, unsure how to react to her outbrust of something unbelievable. The tension was palpable until finally, Anton burst out laughing, breaking the spell, and the air erupted into chuckles.

"What are you talking about ?" Anton questioned.

"Aunty ! Mermaids are only myths don't you learn ?" Ren's eyes winkled in mischief and grining ear to ear.

"I think you should rest". Suppressing her bubbling smile Maria suggested making her enraged.

"I am not lying ! I truly saw it ! I-I-" She spoke with a hesitant cadence, her stutter punctuating each sentences as if the words sounds distant to herself. "Believe me—" An abrupt end her sentences as the boat shuddered violently, its hull creaking in protest, before jolting to a sudden, eerie stillness.

"What happen ?" (Y/N) was quick to question, her heart sank in her stomach.

"It's alright let me check !" Anton wave his hands controlling the situation by walking to the back of the boat while Maria hold her child and gave a comforting pat behind (Y/N)'s back who's eyes glance up to meet the softly glowing sinking sun low, warm hues fading to pinkish blues, slowly extinguishing its light, about to surrender to darkness.

"We have to hurry". Suddenly a gentle noise turn her attention to the ocean where her fearful eyes locked onto the twenty dolphins, their fins slicing through the water, swimming away from the ship, as if luring her into the dark, mysterious depths, escalating her anxiety. Confusion of their sudden departure crawl into her mind raising a unbelievable question.

"Did the dolphins did—"

"Sorry honey and (Y/N) but there seem to be some kind of problem I can't figure out". He click his tongue in annoyance looking at the water. "Maybe I should dive in to che—".

"No ! Not at all". Her voice broke in denying in beat. "It's not safe to dive without having the knowledge of what animals are underneath". She finished elaborating her honest worry.

"Then what should we do ?" Her sister-in-law rest her chin on her palm.

"Maybe stay at the ship !" Ren glee voice yell loud, smiling non-stop.

"What ? But aunty doesn't—". Anton's voice once again cut.

"Aunty is okay with it as long as we are safe". Straining a smile she bent to hug his small body. Unaware the words were far from the reality bound to happen.

Darkness shrouds the boat, stars twinkling above. The woman presses against the window, gazing out at the black ocean, boat's lights casting a golden glow on the waves and little view for her to guard around. Yawns slip past her lips she can't conceal unlike her sleep all because of her growing fear of what might happen if she fell asleep peacefully.

"Did I imagine the tail ?" She pondered on how much her dislike for water grew to the point she hallucinate something belonged on fiction tales and stories to amuse children. She saw her wrist watch : 11:00 pm as drowsiness crept over her, heavy eyelids drooping, until a faint splash echoed through the air, jolting her awake with a start.

"What was that ?" Instantly she sprint outside her room to outside only be finding nothing not even water drops on the wooden floor. Her head tilted pluzzed questioning whether she herself heard right or perhaps it was the noise within the water. Relieving a sigh she walk back to her room noticing how in hurry her door opened a little offering her to spot wet wooden floor.

She halted. Knowing very well the ship isn't crash to be filled with water nor did she spill any water yet how come it's wet ? Unless "It was a trap. A trap for me to go outside and someone—" Fear gripped her throat to let out any voices knowing someone is inside her safe room. Slowly stepping backwards she wince at the creaking noises and walk to find her brother's room only to encounter group of dolphins gather at the boat's railing, clicking and whistling softly as they try to squeeze through, their bodies undulating and scraping against the metal in a gentle yet persistent bid for entry.

This time the scream was unrestricted freezing the sea creatures as she run back to her room forgetting about an intruder inside her room, quickly her fingers barricade the door with any possible object. Her chest constricts, air trapped in her lungs as fear paralyzes her. Her heart races, mind frozen in terror, unable to process the surreal horror unfolding before her. When a cruel realization wash her now she is alone with an intruder.

Ever slowly she turn around facing the certain someone she confirmed got a glimpse earlier, eyes wide with dread, she's petrified, her breath caught in a silent scream gazing the mythical creature.

A merman.

She shrink back in fear and fascination entwined like the tendrils of a vine. Her breath hitches, heart racing, as she stares into his shimmering scales and piercing gaze. Transfixed, she's unable to look away, her terror tempered by a hypnotic allure, as if drawn into the depths of his oceanic eyes. The merman's mystique holds her captive, a siren's call that beckons her closer, even as her mind screams to flee.

"It's not real". She whispered refuse to acknowledge his existence in front her. How could she if he had the power to crush her in his palm only ? Options limited for her to choose from, flee ? How when outside soldiers of dolphins are scattered. Fight ? Unbeatable his strength are comparing to hers just merely stare at those muscular flesh. Pled ? Perhaps yes.

"P-Please. P-Please don't kill me and my family". Her (E/C) eyes swell up with tears. His on the other hand curve in satisfaction. Silence was all given answer before his lips parted and his voice unfurls like a dark bloom, petals of sound that envelop (Y/N) in an unsettling embrace. His song is a low, thrumming whisper, a vibration that resonates deep within her chest, making her heart quiver. Fear's icy fingers crawl up her spine as his melody conjures visions of shadowy depths and forgotten nightmares. A voice masterful of manipulation, weaving a tapestry of dread that ensnares (Y/N)'s mind, each note a delicate thread of terror that binds her closer to his will.

"He is not a merman instead a siren". Her hands clap into her ears protest against the enchantment no matter what. She even dug her fingers deep into her ear buds yet the voice still sweep. Blood bled yet his voice stayed. No. No. No. No. No. She won't lose without a tough fight she decided retrieving her fingers staggering her feet she broke the wooden table holding a piece of wood further entertaining the male siren who sat comfortably on the soft bed, singing his lure.

He is confident. Even arrogant she won't able to resist longer after all he is a siren, the very creation of creature made to spellbound humans by his mesmerizing voice awakening the deepest desires of foolish humans who deem themselves intelligent and courageous. In reality they are very insignificance to mythically sea species as plankton. However it falter his view a little when her hands grasp the wooden plank crashes against the siren's tail, the impact sending a shudder through the air along his melody stutter like skipping beats allowing her a chance to attack again this time on the same spot intend a injury however he was faster, smarter shifting his tail and slapping her entire being to the floor.

Ha. An enigmatic smile cast upon his ruby lips as his eyes studied the fragile being refusing him, his voice drop to a low, husky whisper like the gentle lapping of waves on a moonlit shore. An unfamiliar interest spark because the entire reason he even attacked the ship was for his boredom. Weeks had passed with no signs of any new human toy leading him to hunt trivial creatures with his species rejecting any seduction from his female species because they were dull, boring until today a joyful laugh captured his eyes with curiousity. A boat with humans. Mischief control his mind to hunt them right away yet a strange feeling to observe came over so he watched. Their teasing remarks, pretending fights that he realize too late his compatriot dolphins has appeared too to guard him even though in sea world all knew the most dangrous predator is sirens themselves yet the dolphins befriend their species like moth to flame.

First he was angered for the dolphins to do as they pleased yet he was curious to see how would those humans react especially that female (H/C) head and certainly did not fail to surprise him by showing disfavored towards the creatures humans oh so adore. Giving him more reason to hunt the boat and to see more unfolding layers of emotions on the certain female he gifted peek of his existence biting back laugh to destroy their weirdly metals called engine he heard them talking.

The trap was set now the prey has to walk into it for him to tear, dices the warm flesh like he always did leading to their current time.

But he come with the terms to enjoy his little toy longer. Yes, he will show generousity by sparing her alive and label her his pet. The delicious thought impatient him greatly he slams his tail on the boat's floor, echoing like thunder, His eyes not tearing from her figure, With each strike, the winds howl and waves churn, the siren's song weaving a tempest of delightnent. The boat shudders, wooden planks creaking beneath the force of his call. Floor shakes unable for (Y/N) to hold her balance.

"What is happening ?" She cried out falling on the hard floor again and again. Her barely lidded eyes stare at the window to see dark clouds converge, unleashing a torrent of rain that lashes down on the boat. Winds shriek, whipping waves into a frenzy as the vessel creaks and groans. Water pours in, flooding the decks as the boat's timbers shudder and crack. The siren's song reaches a fever pitch, his tail thrashing the sea into a chaotic tumult. The boat's hull splinters, planks bursting apart as the waves surge in, threatening to engulf all in their path. Rain pounds down, stinging skin and blinding her eyes, as the tempest rages on, merciless and unrelenting eventually drowning into the ocean she fears.

"Brother. Sister-in-law.." Her thoughts tailed off. "Ren". Inhaling water, paralyzing her body that is useless against the water as she not learnt to swim. Mind spinning and finally she freed her conscious to be under the song spell closing her eyes wondering if it's forever. Missing the way a tail carry her waist upwards.

Her eyes slowly open, a grogginess clouding her mind and a sense of disorientation washes over her. As she tries to sit up, she felt touches of unwanted hands and caress on her bare parts. Fingers trace her arms, sending shivers down her spine. Her gaze falls upon the siren, his eyes fixed intently on her, his hands roaming shamelessly on her skin with a gentle yet firm touch. His calloused palms graze her shoulders, sending a spark of electricity through her veins. (Y/N)'s heart races, her mind foggy, as she tries to process what's happening. The siren's hands continue their exploration, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, as (Y/N) struggles to find her voice, to protest and move away.

"Aww, is the little human can't move ?" A sarcastic laugh fell on her, his first words to her is a mock comparing their gap of strength angering her rather than fear.

She glared after all she is bound to die if sooner what's the point ? wiggle from his disgusting touches she tried her best to control her moments in which the male creature snicker leaning closer to her face.

"I saved you not to free you. You little delusional human. You are mine rightfully and let me use you as I please". A sinister smile curve finding fear mix anger on those beautiful eyes he before not paid attention. His fingers cup her cotton soft skin careful to not gaze her with his sharp nails. He press the skin more, feeling bones underneath and a flinch from the human.

His eyes wide in delightment. His another hand caress her cheek intensely watching her every twitch to blink.

Pearlix's finger pads rub (Y/N)'s lips. She narrowed her eyes.

His finger continue to trace path down to her chin. Her lips twist in scowl still under spellbound under him.

He paused at the delicate curve of neck and her pulse flutter under him.

His nails dance across the collarbone and her breath caught at her throat.

He is curious while she is in denial.

The contrast between them utterly fascinated Pearlix, that he toyed more around her body she so obsessed to cover with irrelevant clothes. Tearing bluntly he was baffled to find another layer of cloth so he tore again this time a pleasant hum vibrate from his chest staring the assets of female he never interest on his species yet this woman's are captivating inviting him to bite, touch so he comply to his desire.

One breast been fondling, another one biten harshly earning a wince from her. He smirked coating her bud with his saliva, sucking more and more with hunger that border on desperation. (Y/N) sucked a chunk of breath, tears itself steaming from her tail of eyes as she layed helpless until her body stirred, limbs twitching and sensation returned. Her face contorted, mouth opening in a ragged cry, as her sobs grew louder. Her voice cracked with emotion, cries echoing through the air. She wept uncontrollably stopping the siren entirely.

However not for the reasons she hoped for because he licked her salty tears savouring her sorrow and finally pounce on her attractive lips, grasping her air in form of claiming his possession, dwelling under her tongue, twisting and sucking altogether like an mad beast ignoring her whimpers, pushes against his chest.

Raged she bite down his slit tongue causing him to glare at her and dragging out his wounded tongue bleeding the sliver rivulets both surprising and scaring her.

"You know now I understand this fraction between us. I understand why I wanted you, kissed you, possessed you because". An errie smile stretch across his ruby lips while vivid green irises shone like beacons hinting his deadly obsession. "I love you". His icy heart pound warm against his flesh, heating his cheeks yet the razor sharp smile stayed.

"Be my wife". He announced not focusing her terror and he slashed his own palm, opening a deep gash that welled with silver blood. (Y/N) struggled to free herself, but the siren's hold was merciless.

He forced her lips to his palm, pressing her lips to the wound. (Y/N) tried to turn away, but he held her fast, his fingers wrapped around her jaw like a vice.

The first drop of his blood touched her tongue, and a searing pain, like liquid fire coursed through her veins. She gagged, trying to spit it out, yet the siren's grip was unrelenting. He forced her to swallow, his eyes blazing with an unnatural hunger.

As the silver blood burned its way down her throat, (Y/N) felt her vision blur, her senses reel. "Now you will be immortal like me. Mine for eternal". He sing song knowing no force of nature, not his merfolk, not even her dead familiar humans separate them.

"Our". He pressed a sadistic kiss. "Love of immortal".

FIN

[carmenberzattosgf]

Doing a self care night w carm 🥺 he gets home after the lunch shift to find you bought a bunch of face masks and scrubs for you guys. You giving him a back massage and washing his hair. Ofc you take one of those classic coupley face mask mirror selfies™️. He lets you sit in his lap and trim up his eyebrows 😭

Jesus I just want to take care of him 🧎‍♀️

-🧸

Oh God you get it. You get IT.

The amount of times I have imagined doing my hair routine on Carmy… AH

Like walk with me here. He’s over at your apartment after work and you’ve convinced him to let you do all of your self care things on him.

You tell him the first thing you’re going to do is wash his hair. He’s already getting excited because he thinks you two are about to shower together, but that’s not what you have in mind.

“Come in the kitchen and lay on the counter by the sink. Imma go get the stuff I need from the bathroom.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m washing your hair in the sink. My mom did it for me all the time. It’s a lot easier this way. I already cleaned off the counter for you.”

You return from your bathroom with an arm full of hair products. Carmy is sitting on the countertop, waiting for your next instruction. “Okay, what is all of that for?”

“It’s hair products, Carm. I’ll explain it to you as I go.” You roll up a bathroom towel you brought with you and place it at the edge of the sink. “Can you lay down now?”

Once he’s settled, you turn the faucet on, feeling the temperature of the water with your finger. You use the sink sprayer to wet his hair. You begin by shampooing his hair. “This is a clarifying shampoo. It’s going to cleanse your scalp and your roots.”

“Are you saying my hair is greasy.”

“You do work in a kitchen, you know. Also let’s not ignore the fact you use two in one shampoo and conditioner.” Carmy doesn’t bite back, knowing you’re right. He closes his eyes while your fingertips massage his scalp.

“That feels really nice, baby.”

“Perfect. That’s the goal,” you reply, smiling at him as you rinse out all the shampoo. “Now I’m going to use a deep conditioning treatment. It’ll make your hair feel soft and healthy. It needs to sit for ten minutes, so why don’t you tell me about your day?”

Time goes by quick as Carmy tells you about work. Before you know it the timer on your phone goes off, and you rinse out the conditioner. “Thats it right?” Carmy asks.

“I gotta style your curls! I’ll be quick I promise.” You start to layer on different products, trying to be speedy.

“Okay what is all of this?”

“Oh, well I just put on a leave in conditioner. It does exactly what it sounds like. Right now I’m putting in a styling cream. That’ll keep your hair from being frizzy. Finally I’ll put in a mouse, which will help hold your curls without loosing any volume.”

“I’ve never used any of this before?”

“Carm, it’s a mystery to me how your hair looks so nice. If only you knew the daily struggles of a girl doing her hair.” You put the last touches on his hair, scrunching the product through his locks. “You’re all done now. It just has to dry. Ooo! Let’s do a face mask now!”

Carmy hops off the countertop and follows you to the living room where you already have a variety of sheet masks laid on the coffee table. “So do I just pick any of these?”

“Yep! Completely your choice.” Carmy instantly goes for the panda bear sheet mask. “I had a feeling you would pick that one,” you laugh.

You spend the rest of the night with Carmy watching his favorite shows while you do all of your skincare routine on him. He doesn’t even fight you when you sit on his lap to trim up his eyebrows.

I like to giggle and think that the staff notice the next morning that Carmy’s hair looks really nice and curly AND that his eyebrows are perfectly trimmed. He folds at some point and admits that it was all you, and he played zero part in it.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddiemicrofic July challenge.

Pretty Amazing

July Prompt: One | Word Count: 1,111 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Past Loss of Parent | Tags: Established Relationship, Parenthood, Passing Down Heirlooms, Slice of Life, Domestic and Soft

"What are you looking for, exactly?" Steve asks, slightly swaying with Ellie tucked in his arm. He looks good like that, holding a baby, and Eddie stops and looks at him for a second. They really have a baby. 

He's staring at Steve in a daze, "Eddie?"

That shakes him out of it.

"A book," Eddie finally answers, as he starts digging through the boxes again. He was sure it was here, thinks he saw it before they left Hawkins, all those years ago. He thinks he remembers packing it, since it's one of the few things he has left from his mom. Something she made, just for him.

But he's not sure if he's seen it since they moved.

He just put it away for safekeeping and now he can't fucking find it. Maybe it's still at Wayne's. That would make sense, he supposes. 

"What kind of book?" Steve asks, "Do you want me to put her down and help you look?"

"No!" Eddie says quickly, he doesn't want that. He wants Steve to hold her forever. He'll find it. Or he won't. But Steve should keep doing exactly what he is, until the end of time.

Eddie looks back at them, and smiles, "It's a book my mom made for me. I want Ellie to have it."

Steve laughs, his eyes crinkling, "Honey, she's a week old."

"One week, and two days," Eddie corrects, and Steve laughs again. He's so fucking happy, they both are. It had taken a long time, and a lot of heartache, but she's finally here. Beyond perfect, and worth the wait.

"One week, and two days," Steve concedes. 

Eddie goes back to looking, as Steve and Ellie watch him from the doorway. Well, Steve watches. Ellie's sleeping, missing her dad searching through boxes like a crazy person.

He finally finds it in the last place he looks. Wrapped in tissue paper, bubble wrapped, and then wrapped in a t-shirt he thought he'd lost on their road trip, since he hasn't seen it in forever. Apparently it's right here, being used as packing.

A little overkill, maybe, for a fabric book.

But it's safe, right in his hands. 

"Found it!" he yells, and Steve shows up in the doorway, Ellie still sleeping in his arms.

Eddie takes it out to the coffee table and lays it down. It's a little dingy, a little worn, but it was his, and now it'll be hers. 

"Show us," Steve says, and Eddie does. He opens the cover of the thick book and is greeted with his name in felted bubble letters. Maybe he can cut out two Ls to match, and cover up the Ds, so it has her name instead? He has time to figure that out.

But he flips through the pages.

"I googled it. It's called a quiet book," Eddie explains. 

There's a plastic button sewn to the page, with a pocket that goes over it, where you can push the button through the buttonhole, over and over again. 

On another page, there's a felted grandfather clock, with a little mouse running up the side, and moveable hands you can turn to set the time. 

A felt shoe, with attached laces, waiting to be tied into a bow.

A zipper, on a little tent in the woods. A bear lurking behind the trees.

Page after page of things that his mother made with her own two hands, just for him to learn from.

"This is amazing," Steve says.

"Yeah, it's to, like, teach dexterity?" he says, voice lilting up at the end, like that's a question.

"No, well, yes," Steve says, "but it's amazing because your mom made it for you and now Ellie can learn from it, too."

Eddie swallows. Yeah. That is pretty amazing.

Five years later

"One, two, buckle my shoe," Ellie says from the floor, as she works the strap through the large buckle sewn onto the page of the quiet book. 

Eddie watches her from the kitchen, cup of coffee in his hand before he heads out to work. She's so smart. And weird, and hilarious. He watches her talk to herself as she flips the pages, doing some of the activities, skipping others. 

Steve's washing the breakfast dishes at the sink as she's matching shapes to stitched outlines, attaching them with velcro. 

"What shape is that?" Eddie asks, and she turns to look at him, like he's an idiot.

She holds it up in the air, "A square."

"Really? I thought it was a circle," he says and she huffs at him, going back to her book.

Moving on to snapping and unsnapping the buttons of a little felt raincoat.

Then, moving notes up and down a scale, pressing the velcro into the felt, "F-A-C-E. Face," she says.

He knows she's just memorized that, doesn't really understand that it's a music scale with notes, but hey, maybe someday she'll have a head start. 

They had to replace some of the velcro, and a few long-lost pieces of felt, but for being over forty years old, it looks pretty damn good.

She turns to the next page, and there's the clock. He walks over and squats down behind her, and reaches over her shoulder to turn the little hand to the one, and the big hand to the six.

"One-thirty," she says, before he can even ask.

Holy shit, that's new. He was expecting her usual one-six.

Steve can read his mind, has always been able to, and says from behind him, "She figured that out yesterday." 

Eddie turns and smiles, then he nudges the little hand again.

"One-thirty-seven, stop, it's time for the next page," she scolds, and turns the page on his fingers.

He laughs, but lets her move onto the next one. The shoelaces. She hasn't gotten this one yet, and it makes her mad, so she usually skips past it.

Eddie goes over to watch next to Steve, as he's leaning against the counter. He's gotta go, and soon, but he has a few more minutes.

"Daddy has to go to work at seven-fifteen," Steve says, and Ellie heaves a sigh that is far too exasperated for someone her age, but she flips the page back and turns the clock with her little fingers. 

Then looks over at them, expectantly. Eddie walks over, and checks, and sure enough.

"You've got it! And that's my cue, girlie," he says, dropping a kiss to the top of her head, then walks over and kisses Steve goodbye. 

"Learn to tie that shoe," Eddie teases, as she's fumbling with the laces, trying. 

He knows she'll figure it out, and soon. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemicrofic and follow along with the fun! ❤️

Notes: If you're curious about what these books are, google "felt quiet book" and you should get several good examples.

[squiddy-god]

his ugly orange hair

This is a vent fix I wrote so please keep that in mind lol

CW : young! Konig (just joined the military) roommate reader, civilian reader, trans man reader, ftm reader, bad breakup, hurt comfort, panic attack,

1.4k

They had left. You had tried, Lord knows you tried. Again and again tears rolled down your face, cheeks red and eyes darkening with the slow flood of stains that painted you like glass after rain. Your chest heaved with the great weight of your lungs and the world, again… again… again again again Again Again AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN OVER AND OVER. until you choked on your breath and tongue, tears stinging until you gaged and sputtered. Left a hopeless sobbing puking mess on your bed. The bed was cold, soft quilted sheets like a prison. 

Several days were spent in a spiral of thoughts and flurries of emotions. You hadn't told your mom yet, didn't think you could bear to, but the long dragging scrape of your eyelids forced you to blink back tears. It had been a day and in cliche of a cliches you rifled the cabinets of your two bedroom apartment. Yours- you laughed, you had shared it with your roommate for 2 years now. A tall young man about 19 like you. Unlike your study abroad program that had accepted you on a small but feasible scholarship, he was a military man partnered with a pmc. Really it was his apartment. Over the years you grew close as friends when he was home for the time between deployments. You didn't even think in your delirium and haze that today was the day he'd get home. 

The sound of rustling cardboard and the gentle noises of bathroom products sliding against the shelfs of the small closet filled your ears. Half empty jar of manic panic sat temptingly in the back, behind body butters and discarded Colognes. Not what you where looking for. Finally you found it. Reaching in you grabbed a reflective box, iron brand permanent box dye. Better then splat red, you thought to yourself as you cut the box with your kitchen scissors. 

Looking down at your hands you felt the bile rise up in your chest, the burning in your eyes as you blinked back tears. Your hair had gotten longer, shaggy and slightly unkempt in the recent weeks leading up to the cat and mouse game that was scheduling a haircut. It brushed uncomfortably against your neck and that gnawing feeling from your childhood returned. It was like your face morphed in the mirror, hideously soft, lashes too long, and you wanted to look away. Lose ,bright shirt, the sleeves and neck cut off and the thing ruined by stains of black and red and blue. The dye shirt, a staple and testament to your love of this particular activity. 9pm bad decisions. Your chest is devoid of its usual bindings and it eats at you a little until you find yourself rifling to find a hair tie. 

Snip snip snip, clips of uneven hair fall until you are happy with the slightly uneven results and scraggly look it gives. It makes you smile.

First wash, then dry before you once again clumsily drag out a mixing bowl and brush fully determined to make this a masterpiece. But as you slipped on your blue gloves, once a pretty flower design now covered in blue and black from the last incident, you couldn't help but give into that child.the urge to dip your hands into the goopy mix. In goes the bleach, followed by a sloppy measure of vol. 20 developer. 

And the goop called your name- brush discarded as a mixing tool alone you slathered the goopy mix into the strands of your short hair, realizing in panic as you didn't mix enough. Struggling with your nemesis the gloves you cursed under bated breath before managing to get one off so you could once again arduously unscrew the caps and re-mix in another sloppy bit of measuring. 

The counter of the small bathroom was a mess. Neither you nor Konig were particularly neat- a mouth watch in the corner and on the other side a clear blue cup with two toothbrushes inside it. Behind the rim of the white sink were two razors, one missing its guard from frequent use and the other beginning to rust because you forgot to dry it. Sprawling in the mess was a small vial of your testosterone, and also the gell. Closest to the door was a box of tampons and- only now- vol. 20 developer. Ibuprofen next to Tylenol and a children's cough syrup that was God knows how old. Vix vapor rub and a tooth paste. Messy. The hair in the center of your head gradually turned a light blond as your sides and back didn't take the same. Disgruntled you at least hoped for a cool effect. Your scalped itched and nose burned at that familiar comforting smell that was hair bleach. Bowl and brush discarded into Water and sink, you braved the cold frigid touch of the shower head to rinse your bleach soaked hair. 

Should you be going into this right after bleaching and drying? No. But hesitation seems foreign to you as you take out a second brush and bowl, mixing the copper orange until your concoction looks about right. 

You look like a highlighter and it brings out all of your joy. You stare and wait as time ticks by with your head slathered in that ghastly orange. “Heilige Scheiße, sehr orangefarbener kleiner Herr” his voice heavy with his accent and light laughter. He towered in the doorway, arms raised as his large fingertips hug on the top of the frame. He leaned down slightly to watch you and your bright orange hair. Your position didn't go unnoticed by him, sitting on the floor by the tub and showering with a bowl of orange remnants on the toilet. It also didn't go unnoticed by the glassy look in your eyes or the almost imperceptible darkness forming around your waterline from the tears. Your chopped up hair and of course the slightly patchy orange. “I'll help wash your hair, ja Süße?” You smiled and he stalked off the few paces to his room in order to strip his tactical gear away. When he returned he wore a black compression shirt and plaid red lounge pants- the ones you got him last Christmas- and his mask, a nasty habit he picked up from his time serving. He almost never takes it off, when he has it off the gnawing feeling returns. That paranoia and anxious scratching that just won't quit. He doesn't go out much either, preferring to stay home where his face can be on display without anxiety overcoming him in that snippy aggression that seized him. You knew being at home in the little apartment would take a few day before the mask slipped off again, yet to your surprise as he kneeled down he pulled it off. His naturally ginger hair had once again lost much of the length it usually held, although somewhat more lax and not buzzed, you missed the usual small man bun that would hold back his deep auburn hair. His face was aged beyond its years by suffering and work, sharp angles and elegant defined slopes covered with the light scruff of his facial hair that he probably had not had a chance to shave in a few weeks. His cleft lip pulled slightly on the shape of his lips but blended in for the most part with the silver scars littering his face. Next to his mouth and along his jaw, under his eye on his cheek bone, threw his right eyebrow and most concentrated in the area of his mother and lower jaw the pale scars decorated his skin now don't peppered all across him. You smiled seeing his face, interesting and handsome. The latter a thought you beat down with a stick. “Want to tell me why you've been crying huh?” He asked as if he already knew. You nodded and squeaked out a strained yes before leaning over the tub to rinse the dye. His large palm cradled the back of your head as the cold water rushed past your eyes in a stream of orange. Thick fingers pressing ever so gently into your tender scalp scrubbing the remains of orange goop and leaving only one the patchy hair behind. He rubbed the dampening towel  against your hair as you explained to him you ex and how you where now on the hunt for a partner. He chuckled, that deep rumbling sound that was a endless source of delight. “kleiner Schlingel- you don't have to look far” he said confidently, yet his piercing green eyes normally devoid of much feeling searched yours for a sliver of Reassurance. 

You delivered, leaning against his massive shoulder as your ugly orange hair soaks his shirt. But he didn't mind. He loved your ugly orange hair. 

1.4k words

[throughthethornvine]

i pity those that weren’t there exact right age and mindset to watch kids television in the early 2010s. We got the strawberry shortcake reboot, my little pony (fim), Care Bears, Winnie the Pooh got a series, the weird ass phenomenon that was Lazy Town, Sabrina the teenage witch AND sabrina the cartoon, Phineas and Ferb, TOTALLY SPIES, the 1998 power puff girls was still playing even though its run was over, I got dragon tales despite not being alive when they stopped it, same with the berenstein beats series (I own.. so many of those books), i guess we got Mickey Mouse clubhouse, curious George, PBS had a ton of good shows that are obscure now, godiegogo which was infinitely better than Dora…and this is only when i was a little kid they popped off when i was older too but i won’t get into that.. grew up on so many reboots from when my mom was younger but they were ACTUALLY GOOD

[mintaikk]

My mom: "You're like a mix of a 6 year old girl, and 8 year old boy, and a weird middle-aged woman..."

Me, holding a 60+ year old teddy bear in one arm, A rainbow plague doctor squishable in the other, Wearing a Stolas Goetia from Helluva Boss shirt, Standing in front of my room that's decorated with Spiderman and Xmen posters, A framed portrait of a man in a suit with a moth head, a corner of my room dedicated to witches, herbs, and crystals, A rainbow Unicorn mouse pad, a basket full of LPS, and after just finishing watching Little Women and reading Spider-man comics: "What do you mean?"

[rowdyhughesy]

Quiet mornings- Jack Hughes

Life with Lake masterlist

word count: 716

Quiet, calm days are a rarity in the Hughes household ever since Lake was born two years ago. It’s always the sound of some kids show, small feet running over the floors. Lake’s laughter as Jack runs after him pretending to be the tickle monster on the days that he’s home.

This morning it’s so quiet your first thought that you were alone in the apartment. So quiet everyone could hear a pin drop. Furrowing your brows you crawl out of bed you share with Jack, pulling one of his discarded sweatshirts over your pyjamas as you shuffle out of the bedroom. As you walk closer to the living room you hear hushed whispers and the low sound from the television.

Rounding the corner you are greeted with the sight of Jack and Lake on the couch. Lake is cuddled up in Jacks lap, still in his pyjamas and curls sticking up all over the place. One of his small hands holding his favourite stuffed animal and the other wrapped around three of his dads fingers. A tight hold as he rests his head on Jacks chest.

Both of them wrapped up in blankets and eyes focused on the show playing on the screen.

Bear in the big blue house, a show you watched growing up and it’s become Lake’s favourite thing in the world. The rare temper tantrums happening when he’s not able to watch it.

“Tweelo!” Lake squeals happily when the lemur shows up on the screen. “Yeah buddy it’s Treelo, he’s your favourite ey?” Jack says with a hushed voice. His smile so big you think his cheeks must hurt. It’s rare he has the time to spend his mornings with Lake so you know he’s embracing the times he does.

“Faworite.” Lake parrots nodding his head in agreement. Jack encourages him, mumbling good job as he kisses the top of Lakes head. Arms wrapping around your son and hugging him closer to his chest.

Your heart feels like it might explode from the sight. It’s always been known to you that Jack would be an amazing dad but seeing it? It makes you want to give him a thousand kids if you get to see him be a dad everyday.

“Is there place for one more?” The sound of your voice makes Lake turn his head in your direction. His big eyes lighting up at the sight. Besides the happy giggle he lets out he makes no move to leave his spot on Jacks lap. If there is one thing that Lake Greyson is it’s a daddies boy. Always glued to Jack when he has the chance.

Jack gives you a quick kiss good morning when you sit down next to the two on the couch. Lifting a corner of the blanket so you can cuddle up to him.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Your husband gives you a cheeky smile at your question.

“You were tired and I wanted some time with my little buddy and he was repeating daddy over and over again on the baby monitor.” You nod laying your head on his shoulder.

“Mommy wook!” Lake points at the tv, the blue mouse shown on the screen making a sandwich. You smile leaning forward to kiss his forehead and smooth down the hair on his head.

As you lean back again Lake let’s go of his stuffed animal, grabbing your hand in his smaller one.

Chubby fingers only reaching around half of your hand but it’s enough to make you feel warm. Aware of the fact that he’s a daddies boy it makes you giddy when he does the small things. Asking you for cuddles, a sloppy kiss to your face or when you’re the one he calls out for when he wakes up.

Jack kisses your cheek when he notices the glossy look in your eyes. “I love you and he does too. You’re the best mom you know that right.”

Shuffling closer to Jack he wraps his free arm around your waist. Hand slipping under the material of your -his- shirt rubbing his fingers over the warm naked skin of your stomach.

It’s the small things that make life so much better, mornings like this. Mornings with your two boys filled with content and love.

[candiedspit]

when I was lucid

Tomas fucked like a girl. 

This was disappointing. I wanted him to wrap his muscles–pink, buoyant muscles–around me until I disappeared. I wanted to make use of my legs. But he mewled like a kitten and hardly touched me. 

Am I hurting you? He asked every few seconds. 

No, I said and said. 

A cigarette was still burning on the nightstand. The sunlight outside waned like a feeling. When he finished, he rolled off of me and I got up to get dressed. 

I’ve gotta go, I said, snagging my coat on. 

And left him with his vapors and dirty skin. 

There was a cab outside waiting for me. Life was like this, one magic act. I yawned and a man offered me champagne. Things appeared. I did my lipstick in the backseat, caught the driver looking at me in the rearview mirror. 

What? I asked, popping my lips. 

He didn’t say anything. I rolled my eyes. He left me at my family’s restaurant where I met the rest of the boogaloos. I entered through the back door, smelling of sex and strawberry perfume. I liked making scenes. Another reason Tomas disappointed me–no bruises to coat with foundation, no angered calls from my brothers. I’m the youngest in our family; the only girl, too. This allows me many advantages. Everyone treats me as though I’m made of glass. 

Where you been, dope? Nick asked. 

I had four older brothers and Nick was the closest to me in age. He had spent his recent twenty fifth birthday in the white gallows of Hawaii, dodging waterfalls. I was twenty years old. It was only the brothers there. Dad was working. I never knew what that meant, though there were hints. All that really mattered was his mood when he came home. Sometimes, he went to his office and drank. Nothing could stir him, his misery like a furnace heating the entire house. Other times, he came home bearing gifts, stories and quick cracks at everyone. He was a laser beam. I take after him in some respects. For example, my beautiful, long nose. And my green, slanted eyes. I’m also a natural depressive. Prone to fits, slamming doors, refusing to eat for days. Once, I told a shrink I feel like as empty as a clock. He told me everybody feels like that. 

Not like me, I told him. Not like me. 

I was with Tomas, I told Nick as I took a seat at the table. 

It was quiet. Robin, Frank and my oldest brother Jonathan fiddled with their fingers, sniffling. I made a face. 

What is this? I asked. A fucking funeral parlor? What’s going on?

Dad lost a bet, Jonathan said. A big one.

Shit, I said. What do we do?

Not you. Nick said. But we’ve got till this evening to get it sorted. 

I was never allowed out on any ventures. This upset me. I could handle anything the boys could. A little blood. A little guts. It didn’t bother me much. I had a strong stomach. 

There’s a cab coming for you, Robin said. Just stay at the house. 

Can’t we play a game first? I asked. I loved beating them at cards, the dimwits. 

No time, Jonathan said. 

I got up and grabbed a soda from the fridge before heading towards the door. 

Be safe, I said. 

Always. 

I never knew what time it was. It was probably around one in the morning when the boys came back with dad. I’d spent the afternoon watching TV with mom while she did my nails. Dad was furious, cursing anyone that came to mind; Mickey Mouse, God, Judy Dame. As Nick slinked upstairs, I caught his arm. His shirt was rimmed with what I knew was blood. 

Are you okay? I asked. 

He nodded. I kissed his cheek and let him go. 

I wasn’t in school. I filled my time with house parties, dungeons, anything that sparkled. That weekend, I was in the basement with Katie-Marie, a girl I’ve known since we were four. I didn’t have many friends. But I had good ones, the ones I had. Katie-Marie was wonderful to be around. I could tell her anything. Most of the time, I complained about Tomas. 

Let go of him, Katie-Marie said. He’s nothing but a pain. Not worth the time. 

I’m compelled, I said. There’s something about him I can’t get enough of. 

Katie-Marie did another line, I followed suit and laid back down on the couch, drank some soda. I often imagined burning my nose off; sulfur and love confessions. I listened to Katie-Marie sing along to some girl pop band until I felt as though someone had thrown me into the electric chair except I was innocent. All of my nerves were on high alert. I fluttered my eyes, seeing the faint image of a lamb on the ceiling. There was a cosmic rhinestone in the very center of my forehead. I could feel every one of my thoughts like arrows shot from the other side. I laughed and laughed, couldn’t tell when I wasn’t laughing. Katie-Marie kissed my cheek. I licked her palm. I began speaking. 

Are we not the damndest? Are we not the ones? I could drink my youth from a shot glass. It’s going to rain. I’m the first horse who realized he can run. And I’m running and I’m never stopping. I’m a cunt. I’m Daddy. He thinks he’s so big, I’m bigger. 

I looked over at Katie-Marie. 

He thinks he’s big but I’m bigger, I said over and over. 

I have this dream, I found myself telling Tomas. That dud, dull sparkler; magic amulet with no power within it. I didn’t like him. How many times could I rap at his door? A shift, I expected him to be someone else every time. The person I loved. And each time, it was only him in his boy shorts, grease king, cigarette burns in the blankets, ashtrays on the carpet, the scent of a life lived far too long. It had been four days since we’d seen each other; I’d spent the time crying, masturbating and crying, punching his number into the phone and then chickening out. He looked at me, rubbed my cheek with his bandaged thumb. 

What do you dream? He asked. 

I’m Christ at the table. And the skies are made of lace, there are gingerbread cookies, rugs made of skin, a thousand diamonds, an itch in my teeth. A cock between my hands. Psalms rising and falling beneath my eyelids. I am the son of God. I am going to be betrayed by the phony who loves me as the wind loves to tickle the trees. I am going to die for you. 

I pointed towards the ceiling. 

But for the moment, I am full of wine, singing drunk. And the colors explode. Someone is speaking. A beautiful woman with her breasts exposed. And I hear the sound of what comes next. I hear the crackle of electricity; lightning bolts, rashes of rain pissing from above. I hear a hundred languages, babbling over one another like threads in a wicker basket, streams of fish. I hear a thumping, a grinding, ecstatic horsepower. I see the black coughs of genocide. I see Americans on the street, hiding from a wall of ash. I see America. 

You’re insane, he said as though astonished. Absolutely insane. 

It was a Tuesday evening. I was at the restaurant with Nick, playing cards. The other boys were upstairs, running dishes, cleaning tables. Outside, I could hear the fantastic drip of rain. I beat Nick at cards for the third time in a row. 

You’re letting me win, I complained. 

He laughed. 

I’m really that bad, he said. That’s the truth. 

It got quiet as I got up to get another soda, one for me and one for him. I cracked open the can and sat back down. Nick was looking at me. 

Julia, he said. 

I looked at him. He never called me by my name. 

 Why don’t you get away from here? You could. Dad would pay for school, somewhere upstate. You could leave all this shit behind. It’s not good for you to be in the periphery of what we do. Why don’t you? 

I looked at his hands, a cross tattooed on his wrist. I loved him like a mother does, like a knife.

Why don't you go fuck yourself? I asked. And said nothing else.

I set up another card game. And let him win.

[ramshackle-ramblings]

Homesick

Alise lay on her back in the grass in the courtyard, arms wide, eyes closed against the too-bright spring sun. The dull, aching loneliness that had been playing around the edges of her days all winter had clawed its way to the front, blossoming like the flowers that edged the walkways into the brilliant assurance that she was alone here, really.

She heard the sound of footsteps in the grass. Someone stopped beside her, blocking the sun. She said nothing, there was no one here she wanted to talk to right now.

"What are we doing?" Lilia asked, his voice was quiet. Gentle, like he could see how close she was to breaking.

Alise didn't answer. If she was sleeping, or dead, he'd leave.

The silence stretched, and she heard him settle onto the grass beside her.

She still didn't speak. He had to have better, more interesting things to do, than sit on the wet grass in the bright sun with a lost child. That was, after all, what she was. The teddy bear left behind at the airport gate, dirty and worn and forgotten about. The sweatshirt abandoned on the swingset, discarded off in the warmth of the afternoon.

Still, he didn't leave.

"There's sunblock in my bag," she said finally. If he was going to stay, there was no reason for him to suffer.

She heard him rustle around in her bag, heard the bottle click open and shut, heard him put it back and zip her backpack up again. The silence returned, pulled along by the late morning sunlight.

"I don't belong here," she said quietly into the nothingness. "I'm not supposed to be a part of this. Everything is wrong, everything is different."

Lilia's hand slid into hers, warm and dry and gentle, and she felt tears begin to slide down her cheeks, cold and wet and harsh.

"Everything," she repeated, her voice breaking. "Everything is just a little bit wrong. The grass isn't the right shade of green. The sky is too blue." She was picking up speed, her voice taking a hysterical edge. Lilia just held her hand. "Things that should be the same, that should be familiar, aren't. And the people -" A sob caught her voice in her throat.

She was glad it was Lilia. Anyone else would have tried to cheer her up, reassure her that she did belong. Epel would have raged, wanted to know who had said that to her so he could set them straight. Cater would have found all the pictures of them together on his phone. Even Mouse would have sympathized, they might be lost, but they were lost together.

"They're not the same either. I miss them. I miss my friends. I miss my mom."

She looked over at Lilia for the first time, vision blurred by tears. He lay stretched out on the grass next to her, watching her carefully. She started to roll toward him, and he met her half way, catching her up and pulling her into a hug.

The tattered remains of Alise's control shredded, and she sobbed into his chest. They stayed like that for a long while, Lilia holding the sobbing girl tightly while she clung desperately to him, drowning in the waves of her own grief.

When she had quieted, he shifted them to sitting.

"Your shirt is all wet," she told him.

"I have other shirts," he answered, tenderly wiping the remaining tears off her cheeks. "Have you eaten?"

"No."

"Let's find you lunch." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, brushing her hair out of her face, and helped her to her feet.

Holding his hand and pressed against his side like his presence was the only thing keeping the world from crumbling away, Alise let herself be led toward the cafeteria. She stopped halfway across the courtyard, and Lilia looked down at her.

"Thank you," she said quietly. He didn't answer, just squeezed her hand gently.

In the doorway, Lilia stopped and looked down at the girl again. "I know it's not the same. We'll never replace what you've lost. But you have family here."

[riley-coyotl]

We had to say goodbye to Lucy cat the other day, on Saturday evening.

Everyone's going to miss her so, so much. She was almost 16.5 years old, and she has been a part of our family for longer than any other animal ever has. My first ever kitty... I was only 15 when we got her as a 6 month old kitten. I'm 31 now, we've had Lucy for over half my life, almost 16 years, it's been so long...but it still doesn't feel long enough.

Our Lucy was an exceptionally good cat, the absolute best kitty anyone could ask for. She was curious and playful, and the best little teddy bear of a cat you've ever met. You could just hold her and snuggle her like a stuffed animal, and she loved it. She was happiest when she got to be on someone's lap or held against their chest under the covers, as she would do with my mom any time she got the chance. I think Lucy's greatest joy in life was to cuddle, and she relentlessly demanded it too! Even if you didn't want a cat all up in your business, too bad, there was Lucy, crawling into your lap anyways. And she always thought she was very sneaky about it! She made us laugh and brought years and years of love to all. Even when she was being obnoxious--like when she would make cozy tents to sleep in under the couch cover blankets that were specifically in place to protect the couch fabric from cats!--it was endearing. She was a real character, and truly a good girl.

Lucy has been through so much with us, and she has always been a steadfast presence in our life, a cornerstone of our home and family. She helped us eliminate a mouse problem when we first got her. She helped me raise both of my puppies over the years, Maple and Juniper. She was the perfect cat to help raise puppies! She taught them how to be friends with cats, and how to respect them, too. The perfect combination of patient, playful, and steadfast in her own boundaries. It breaks my heart that she won't be here to help next time. I didn't realize it, but I always counted on her. We all always counted on her, to be our kitty.

Goodbye sweetie, good girl Lucy cat. My Swoocy Lucy, I will always look for your ghost sitting on the Roku (you loved it because it was warm!), or sitting in your favorite corner next to the refrigerator in the kitchen just to watch what was going on with everyone. Maybe, in some way, you'll still be there. We love you. So much.

[ahlore]

⟢ — | 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

In the sun-soaked Outer Banks, Magnolia Whiteside is a Kook living a life of privilege, but her world is far from perfect. Having moved from Palm Beach after her parents’ messy divorce, she often gets lost in her thoughts and struggles to connect with the people around her. Meeting the Pogues helps her come out of her shell, and she finds herself drawn to Rafe Cameron, who plays a game of cat and mouse as their relationship grows more complicated.

Onto the 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑?

Back to 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓?

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐀 looked up at the high, vaulted ceilings, her gaze tracing the elegant moldings that framed the walls. The room was so big and well-decorated that it felt more like a showroom than a living space. Large, arched windows with heavy, custom drapes let in soft, filtered light that cast a gentle glow over the room. The walls were a soft cream, perfectly smooth, and the hardwood floor gleamed with a polished sheen. Had it not been so over the top, she might have been able to notice the small imperfections.

Sighing under her breath, she knew that her challenges weren’t just the difficulties of adjusting to her new life in the Outer Banks, but also the quiet task of unpacking. In her hands was a variety of books centered around the theme of romance. She carefully knelt on the hardwood floor and arranged her bookshelves so that each book was in alphabetical order. Although nothing particularly special, she preferred things to be orderly and simple.

Her ears were filled with the gentle rustle of tree branches tapping against the window. As she directed her hazel gaze out the window, she observed how the leaves gently hung from stray branches, falling down with a delicate grace. Pulling her focus back inside, she moved to make her bed. She raised her arms, bringing the duvet high, a swift yet snappy sound reverberating through the air. Her fingers curled as she experienced the comfort radiating through the thin sheet, contrasting with the plush, heavy blankets. She then arranged the cushions against the headboard, finally stepping back to admire her neatly made bed.

She huffed and flicked the hair that was getting in her way of seeing. She looked over her almost finished room, seeing one box in particular sitting in the corner of her bedroom. She approached the box, noticing the label on the side: “FRAGILE—GLASS INSIDE.” With gentle hands, she lifted the lid and peered inside. Her fingers brushed over a collection of photographs, mostly of friends and family she had left behind in Palm Beach. Among them, one photo stood out: a framed picture of her family. Her mom, dad, and herself—taken before the divorce. She sighed deeply, her heart heavy as she held the photo close. The dark wooden frame felt cold against the pads of her fingers, and as she traced its edges, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of the memories it carried.

You never really cared about keeping us together, did you? She whispered to no one in particular, chewing the corners of her cracked lips as she felt the sting of blood. When was the last time she had spoken to her mother? It must have been months ago. Even during the finalization of the divorce, she hadn’t spoken to her. The silence had been a small relief, a temporary escape from the sting of her absence and the harsh reality of her leaving.

As Magnolia looked at her mother in the picture, it was hard to accept that she had been unhappy with the life she had created. She had blamed Magnolia’s father, Liam, saying the expectations placed on her were too much to bear. Yet, despite that, Magnolia couldn’t ignore the way her mother looked at her in this photo—with love. It was a sharp contrast to how her mother’s actions made her feel: neglected and unloved.

“Magnolia?” Her father called her name gently, but she didn’t respond right away. He watched her, knowing she was deep in thought—caught in the current of her mother’s absence. Each time he saw her drifting off, her eyes glassy with unshed tears, it felt like a knife to his heart. He wished he could take her pain away, swallow it whole if it meant she wouldn’t have to feel it anymore. But for now, all he could do was try to bring her back to the present.

“Oh, Bunny… it will be okay,” he murmured, using the nickname he’d given her when she was just a little girl. It had always suited her—his little bunny, so full of life. He moved closer, noticing how she stood frozen, her eyes locked on the photograph in her hand. Gently, he took it from her, his gaze settling on the image that had pulled her away from reality.

He sighed inwardly when he saw it: a picture of the family, together and smiling. No wonder she’d been so quiet. The memory of her mother’s absence and the divorce still stung for him, too. But he had to be strong for her, even if it meant burying his own pain.

He gently wiped away the tears that escaped and offered her an encouraging smile, his expression filled with love and support—exactly what Magnolia needed most. As she gazed at him, she noticed he was already dressed in his scrubs, ready to head off to work.

Magnolia sometimes hated that her father was a surgeon. She wanted him there with her, but he was always busy, saving lives and helping those in need. Maybe it was selfish to wish he’d stay home when she needed him most. She knew he was trying—she could see it in the way he looked at her—but it didn’t change the fact that she spent most days here, in this new place, feeling so alone.

“I heard there’s a restaurant hiring—The Wreck, I think it’s called,” her father suggested as he let go of her, his eyes flicking to his watch. He knew he was running short on time. “I spoke to the owners, Anna and Mike Carrera. They’re willing to have a walk-in interview with you, if you’re interested.”

Magnolia looked up, her eyes still damp but showing a flicker of curiosity. “The Wreck?” She repeated, her voice soft but not without a flicker of interest. “I’ve heard of it… I didn’t realize they were hiring.”

She paused, considering the opportunity. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to check it out. It might be nice to get out of the house for a bit.”

Her father smiled, relieved to see her engaging with the idea. “It’s a start,” he said gently. “And who knows? You might make a few friends along the way.”

Magnolia nodded, a small but genuine smile appearing on her face. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll go by and see what it’s like.”

✦ author’s note: i wanted to introduce kiara in the prologue but the word count was around 1.1k words and i know a lot of readers don’t have that long of an attention span, so i tried to cover most of magnolia’s feelings and how she’s adjusting in the first chapter. also i kind of got burnt out after writing this chapter so i had to call it quits and decided i’d introduce kiara next chapter, lol.

[marmolady]

Grandchildren: Aurora

Summary: Endless Ending timeline. Middle-aged Taylor and Estela are entering a new phase of their life together, welcoming their grandchildren into the family. In four parts; this is PART FOUR.

Word Count: 4421

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, ​@mauvecatfic @rhemenway888

Thanks for reading!

________________________________________

2061

Rosa smoothed out the gown with a hand. Her Mama Estela’s beautiful wedding gown, a gift from an old friend, Seraxa. Georgie’s wife, Taamina, had made the necessary alterations to accommodate seven months’ worth of baby bump-- something that Estela had insisted they try out rather than have Rosa write off her dream dress. Guilt remained over doing anything to change it at all when there were such precious memories attached….

“You look nervous. Are you nervous?” Luz, Rosa’s other best friend, had been by her side since early that morning.

Most of the Catalyst kids had gotten permission to bring their significant others in on the secrets of La Huerta… but Rosa hadn’t the need, Vaanti fiance and all. With her looking to spend as much time on the island as possible, Varyyn had suggested he consult with the elders to gain approval for her to share her world with Luz, who’d been close to both Rosa and Georgiana since their early school days. This was the result; Niala’rei was here, and Rosa would be wed with her two closest friends by her side.

“...I….” Of course, Rosa was nervous. The dress was, admittedly, a factor. A part of her felt it was too beautiful, the kind of gown a goddess would show up to a wedding in. Did she really have the confidence to pull off a dress like that? Her Mama ‘Stel had, twice. But that made Rosa feel like a mouse stepping into a warrior costume.

Somehow, though, Rosa didn’t look like the mouse she saw herself as; she looked proud and confident. Perhaps she held herself differently just with the knowledge that this was her heritage, that she belonged. Perhaps she held herself differently because of the baby… she’d always been more courageous for Leo’s presence, maybe this little one had helped her grow further.

This dress was both Vaanti and Montoya. There was no way she’d wear anything else as she made her vows to Homori.

She had to be the warrior queen. And her fight was with herself, because the greatest fear that lingered, the shadow that loomed menacingly over her, was her inability to speak the words she so needed to speak.

“Wo--oa--oah! I’m having some serious deja-vu right now-- talk about a blast from the past, doodlejumps!”

The appearance of Raj, all wide arms coming in for a bear hug made the skittish Rosa jump, but she recovered enough to take the embrace.

Rosa had hit it off with her larger-than-life Catalyst ‘uncle’ pretty much from the get-go-- even timid and fragile as she’d been back then. He had this magic quality… you couldn’t help but be at ease around him, and the young Rosa had gotten so much comfort from that warm and jovial presence. He’d made sure he had time in his busy schedule for her wedding, saying he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

She smiled shyly. “I had hoped it could fit,” she admitted. “After Livi wore Mama Taylor’s, I thought it would be nice to…. It’s like a family tradition now, isn’t it?”  

“Seems like it,” Raj said. “Gotta pull out the old Niala’rei gowns for a Montoya wedding. You know, when your moms made it official in San Trobida-- you know I basically ran that whole gig, right?-- Estela was pregnant too. We didn’t know it, though, early days. But still, maybe that’s a tradition too!”

“It might be now.”

“Well, it suits you.”

He joined the crowd bustling into the throne room, and Rosa was left alone with Luz. All those people who’d be watching… there was surely no way she could do this….

“You can do this,” Luz said warmly, supportive as ever. “Just… talk to Mori. Look at him, look at the big smile on his dorky face, and speak to him.”

Rosa had never not been able to talk to Homori. Her body trusted him, never felt the need to freeze up. Her childhood challenges with selective mutism had been more or less overcome, but every now and then, usually when she least wanted it to happen, all her words would get… stuck. She preferred writing. Her hand never failed her like her voice did.

She couldn’t screw up her wedding vows, though. There was much that needed to be said; how much it meant to her that she could pour her heart and soul out to Homori and know she was being heard, how he made her laugh more in just a day by his side than she would in weeks without him. How he was exactly the parent to Leo that she, growing up in care, would have longed for as a young child-- sweet, and tender, and encouraging, and loving without bounds. Rosa had to promise him a lifetime of love, given honestly and openly. She’d promise that she’d have his back as they took on the challenges of parenthood, of finding personal fulfilment side-by-side, and navigating the divide between their cultures. She’d share his dreams, cheer his successes as her own, knowing that her joys would be his in the very same way. She had to say all that, aloud, get the words in the right order, and… and….

Luz squeezed Rosa’s hand. “It sounds like they’re ready for you, babe.”

Placing a hand on her belly, Rosa took a deep breath. Breathing techniques had gotten her through some real panics in her time…. She could feel the movement of the baby, and it weirdly made her feel more capable. Yes, she was definitely holding herself stronger and prouder since this little kid came along. For her baby, and for Leo, and for her lovely Homori, she could do this. She could damn well say what she needed to say.

The hall was full. Couples getting married, friends and family there in love and support. Rosa had attended Niala’rei before; when Georgie had taken Faiyara’s hand. She’d imagined it then… having the guts to choose a life far removed from the one she’d grown up with. Stepping into that hall, she was proud. Her and Homori, they were going to make it.

Her breath rattling with nervous excitement, Rosa saw through the crowd that was her family, and her eyes met with Homori’s. Oh, Mori…. His eyes welled immediately, and his face was in his hands.

Rosa giggled as she reached him, and wrapped her fingers around his. They laughed together, tearfully jubilant to be there hand in hand, so close to ever after.

Maybe they’d both have trouble getting the words out after all. It didn’t even matter. They had one another, and they could take all the time they needed.

_________________________________

The front door was ajar, so Liv pushed it open and tentatively stuck her head in. “Hello, Rosa?”

“Auntie Liv!” came the bellow of the small child who charged smack into her legs. Leonel barely even blinked, but wrapped his arm around Liv’s-- probably soon to be bruised-- thighs.

“Oh, hey Leo,” Liv said, recovering quickly. She was used to being almost being bowled over by small children by this point. “I take it your mommy’s in?”

“I’m here!” Rosa said, bustling over. “Thanks for grabbing him-- Mo just went out to the workshop to grab the crib, and I’ve been trying to convince Leo to wait here with me.”

“No worries.” Liv placed down her bags, and scooped her nephew up in her arms. He was a cuddly kid, and she was enough of a novelty that her attention would distract him from getting under his dad’s feet. “I just wanted to drop by the few things I said about. I’ll send more as Bea grows out of things, obviously, but just little little clothes and sleep bags for now.”

She sat her younger sister down and brought her a cold refreshment-- and Leonel a pineapple juice in a sippy cup.

“You really didn’t have to,” Rosa said as she sipped gratefully. The heat was admittedly hard to handle this late in pregnancy, even with all the fans going.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to go back home to San Trobida without being totally sure you’re all right,” Liv admitted. “I know first-hand how hard it can be with a newborn, and you’re fresh off the back of a massive life change. I want… I want you to know that I’m here for you. Me and Jeimy. I know we’re swamped with our own kids, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have your back as well.”

Rosa nodded quietly, looking down into her glass. She didn’t want to put anyone out, she’d always struggled with that. Her early life she’d gotten through by making as few demands as possible, well, until she simply cracked. Asking for help was still something she had only found herself able to do with Homori, her moms, and very rarely, Luz or Georgie.

“Rosita, I want to be there for you,” Liv urged.

Rosa exhaled shakily, her breath making the surface of her colourful drink tremble. She placed it down, and looked to the side shyly.

“I am scared,” she said finally. “Not of being a mom again, because I love being a mom, it… feels like it’s what I’m meant to be doing. I’m scared of labour and the birth… you know my pain tolerance is laughable. I’m not… I’m not like you. I’m not tough.”

Liv scooched closer and took her sister’s hand. “I’d think you were batshit crazy if you weren’t crazy. Labour is off-the-charts intense. You’ll cry, and scream, and swear, and probably crap yourself. And it’ll be worth it.” She paused. “They do… have everything on hand to give you an epidural if you need one, right?”

Rosa nodded, wiping her eyes. It was a relief to share her fears with someone other than Homori. What had Mama Taylor always told her?-- ‘you’re allowed to take up space’. The space she took up with her anxiety did not need to be apologised for. Or so she knew in theory.

“Y-yeah. I wanted to try without, it’s not really a thing women here use much.”

“Well, good on you. Just… don’t let other people’s expectations sway you one way or another. You know your body and what you need, and you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

Rosa could feel herself blushing.

“Mommy!” Leonel said, “Can I show Auntie Liv my room? I have dinosaurs on my bed, she’ll pro’lly like the dinosaurs.”

“Sure, I like dinosaurs,” Liv said. “Shall we go for this tour?”

Grateful to have the glare of attention off herself, Rosa happily let Leo do his thing. He had his auntie by the hand, and enthusiastically showed her round. So, Rosa took the opportunity to put her head through the door and check in on Homori with the new crib.

“There!” he said, “we’re ready as we’ll ever be!”

Rosa could’ve danced at the sight of that crib, the ornamental fox designs at the head hand-carved by the daddy-to-be. It was just gorgeous, and its placement by the bed signalled that it would not be long until the new family member would be there with them. God, the wait was feeling like an eternity. Naturally, she ran to Homori and kissed him.

A little while later, Rosa and Liv were back in the bedroom, sorting tiny baby clothes into neat piles.

 “I’m so glad you’ve got Georgie with you on this when the time comes,” Liv was saying. “She knows her stuff.”

“She really does,” Rosa said, and she smiled. How lucky was she that her best friend happened to be a midwife? She couldn’t be in safer hands. “Sometimes I think she’s almost as excited about baby coming as we are.

Liv had to laugh. “It’s a good thing she’s going to have her own to keep her busy soon enough, or I reckon you’d have to prise her off the baby with a winch or something.”

Rosa chuckled, but then turned away. She had the best people in her corner, a far cry from what she’d come from. She couldn’t forget that feeling though, the aloneness, and it made letting go difficult. Liv would understand.

“I….”

The words caught.

“No rush, Rosi. You can take your time.”

“I have… Georgie. Helping. But she’ll have… she’ll have her own baby. I have Homori, and he’s everything.”

“Mo is an absolute freaking superstar,” Liv concurred. “Tio Diego would do anything for you as well, you know that, right? Varyyn too.”

Rosa looked at her hands, at the teeny, tiny babygro in them. Teeny and tiny, and representative of oh-so-much. “I… know that. Asking for help is… hard.” She laughed bitterly. “When I need help the most, I can hardly even string a sentence together.”

Liv frowned. “Maybe you could have a codeword to text or something? They want to be there for you-- they love you.”

It was hard to accept, even if logic told her it was true. Old insecurities were not Rosa’s friends.

“And I… I miss Moms.”

“Yeah. It’s a big change.”

“I know they’d drop everything if I needed help, but it still… scares me. I shouldn’t be scared of not living with my moms at twenty-six but I definitely am.” Rosa swallowed hard. “They said… they can stay on La Huerta as long as I need, but….”

“You’re not a burden, Rosita. Not at all.” Liv put an arm around her younger sister and hugged her close. “Worst case scenario? Moms get a month or two longer hanging out on paradise island. Mama Taylor will hang out with Tio Diego watching old episodes of Cinema Therapy and go on their little emotional journeys together. Mama Estela will teach Leony how to put the other kids in a headlock.”

Rosa snorted. “I guess they wouldn’t mind. Worst case scenario.”

“And you probably won’t even need that. You got this.”

_______________________________

There was a slight breeze. A welcome slight breeze, for it had been a muggy day even by La Huerta standards. Estela let her foot dangle.

Try and relax. It’s gonna be a long one.

She and Taylor sat on their porch swing-- it had been built and embellished with carvings by Homori who’d gifted it to them a year prior-- taking in the night, and resigning themselves to the anxious wait.

Rosa had been very afraid. Fair enough, Estela had thought, for childbirth was almost unimaginably painful. Rosi had never had a high pain tolerance. Estela did, and she’d found herself going to pieces in the agony that had preceded Liv’s entrance to the world. Her own instinct was to want to be near to Rosa, to help, but a plenty capable support team was doing that job. In all honesty, Estela had anticipated that Rosa would want her mothers there; she’d always needed their reassurance far more than Liv ever had, even into adulthood. Maybe it was a good thing that Rosa had other supports in place… her independence had certainly grown since Leo came along. Hell, she’d freaking blossomed.

Estela glanced down as her phone screen lit up.

‘6cm, looks like going into active labor. Starting to get a bit scary!’

“Oh, sweetheart…,” Taylor breathed. “That’s good. Good progress. Quicker than I was expecting, to be honest.” She sucked her cheek as she let Estela tap out an encouraging reply. “I’m selfish, but I miss her needing me so much.”

“You’re not selfish,” Estela said with a shrug. “You’d be selfish if you barged in, demanding she hold your hand. You can’t help your feelings, but you’re aware of them, so….”

“...so I guess I’m not making them anyone’s problem but my own. True. Well, apart from you.”

Estela looked her wife in the eyes and smiled gently. “It’s always comforting to know I’m not the only one having an internal freak-out.”

Taylor grinned. “We do our freak-outs as a team like the loved-up wives we are.”

She looked lovely out there in the moonlight, Estela thought. All full of hope and excitement, of tenderness for the frightened little girl who now existed only as a memory-- for Rosa had found her wings and soared.  Taylor was what she’d always been, a carer and protector, an inspirer and a confidant. She’d still be all of those things, but her role would change now as their children brought forth another generation. Time to be ‘grandma’.

Estela kissed her softly, heartbeat quickening at the tender caress of Taylor’s lips upon her own.

“You are never gonna not be needed,” she said in a hushed laugh. “Hermosa idiota.”

That made Taylor giggle. “I guess not.”

___________________________

Leonel jumped up and down on the springy old couch, punctuating his bounces with chanting. “We’ve… got… a… baby! We’ve… got… a… baby!”

In Homori’s arms, a golden-haired infant slumbered, oblivious to the excitement.

“Mind you don’t wake your sister.”

With an extra big bounce, Leo landed on his bottom, and grinned from ear to ear. “My baby sister! I can’t believe she’s gonna live with us now!”

“I know,” Rosa said, and she groaned as she sat down. “No more jumping, okay, sweetheart? I can barely believe she’s out in the world either.”

“She’ll get a name, right?” Leo asked. “We can’t call her ‘baby’ when she gets bigger….”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something, mijo.”

It was even slower than usual to get Leo into his pyjamas, and clean his teeth, and brush his hair. A new baby sister was a significant distraction. The baby joined the three of them in Leo’s room, sleeping through the two requisite bedtime stories, and still not stirring when her big brother gave her a very gentle kiss on the top of her head.

Eventually, though, Leo was settled, and his parents could spend some quiet time with the newest member of their happy unit.

“I guess the next challenge,” Rosa said sleepily, “what’s her name? I think it would be really nice to have ‘Luz’ as the middle after all she’s helped me out… but I’m pretty stumped on a first name. D’you think you can come up with a short-list?”

Homori’s eyes were shining with love for the small infant snuggled against his bare chest. “She should have a human name-- English or Spanish-- like her brother. It’ll be easier for her to keep her secrets if her name does not attract attention.”

Rosa frowned. He was right, but it didn’t sit well. Their little girl was to be raised by a Vaanti father, she had a right to the cultural heritage that came with that. They could maybe even get away with some Vaanti names-- it wasn’t as if humans didn’t get creative when naming their kids, no one would necessarily suspect anything….

“Or,” Homori said, picking up the vibe his wife was giving off, “she could have a Vaanti name and a human name. Maybe we could give Leo a Vaanti name too. Even if they don’t always use them, it would be kinda nice for them to have.”

“Maybe,” Rosa said, thoughtful, “you could come up with some Vaanti names, and we’ll look up human names with an equivalent meaning.”

They sat together on the bed, poring over baby name websites, and a book of names they’d gotten out from the library in The New Celestial weeks ago. Rosa and Homori were on a mission; their baby girl was going to have a name before the night was out.

“Something bright and optimistic,” Homori pondered. “I quite like ‘Tahiyya’, which represents a hopeful future. ‘Hiyya’ is ‘future’, and ‘Tah’or ‘Taa’ is something you add on the front of a word or name… like a positive thing.”

“What does Taamina’s name mean?”

Taamina was the child of a close friend, who frequently played with Leo.

“‘Mina’ is like… ‘to dance’. So, I guess like a dance of happiness.”

“That’s cute! Pity that one’s taken by a close friend.”

Homori chuckled. “We’ll find her name.”

Rosa clicked her tongue. “Okay, names meaning ‘future’….”

She searched for five minutes, then ten. “Nothing really jumping out, to be honest.”

“‘Laniira’ is the name of the first Elyyshar, who brought our people together from across the island at a time of trouble. I’m not sure of the full meaning, but ‘niir’ is ‘sunrise’ and the ‘a’ sound is feminine. Something beautiful beginning… that’s pretty nice as meanings go.”

That was pretty nice. “Like ‘dawn’ or something….” Rosa pondered. Or how about…. “What about ‘Aurora’? Our new day. Her Vaanti name could be Niira.”

Homori beamed. “That’s it! That’s her name!”

The baby began to stir and whine, woken by his excited cry.

“Oops-- I’m gonna… I’m gonna have to get the hang of being enthusiastic quietly….”

Rosa couldn’t help but laugh. “And this is the kid who slept through ‘Hurricane Leo’.”

“Hurricane Leo is no match for over-excited Daddy Mo!”

Having picked up the freshly named Aurora and begun gently bouncing her upon her arm, Rosa looked up at Homori and grinned from ear to ear. To think she once couldn’t see herself ever so much as having a family… now her family, and the love they shared, just kept growing.

Somewhere along the line, she’d gotten so lucky. And Aurora, and her whirlwind Leony, would never know fears like the ones she’d had.

_____________________________

2062

“Abuela, Abuela!” Sol cried as he ran, feet pounding on the sand.

Taylor grinned, looking up from her drink to meet her wife’s eye. “You’re wanted.”

Estela got to her feet and began limbering up. “Ready to lose, mijo?”

“’Stel! He’s only six! You’re gonna go easy, right?”

“And I’m sixty-five. Pretty damn fair if you ask me.”

Sol grasped his grandmother’s hand and led her to the firmer sand. He pointed up the beach. “To that banana tree that’s sticking out down there-- you see it?”

“I’m racing too!” Andi hollered, dropping her arepa con queso in her hurry to be included. She rarely beat her brother in a running race, but she didn’t tire of trying. Then, tagging along behind her was Leonel-- just another one of the ‘big kids’ as far as he was concerned.

“On my signal….” Raj announced, and he picked up a napkin to hold in the air. “Aaaand… let her rip!”

He dropped his arm, and the four were off… with Estela perhaps going a little easy on her grandkids.

Taylor watched with a smile on her face and in her heart. A more perfect way to spend a day she couldn’t think of; Aurora’s first birthday, and a lively picnic surrounded by loved ones. Joining the Montoya clan, Raj had flown in; he’d taken up the role of ‘cool great-uncle’ with Leo and Aurora as if he was born for no other purpose, though he had Diego as stiff competition. Michael and Conor had joined him; Michael never missed a birthday of one of his donor kids. Rosa’s close friends Georgiana and Faiyara had joined the celebration with children Niraea and Rauan in tow, and Homori’s father had trekked down from Colonnade Cove to be there to commemorate the birth of his granddaughter.

Diego, naturally, was right by Taylor’s side.

“How’s it even been a year?” he asked incredulously. “Look at her-- she’s walking. Walking, Taylor!”

“That’s all of them,” Taylor laughed. “All of the grandkids walking, all walking straight into mischief.”

“You reckon Rosa’s done?”

“Yeah, she seemed pretty certain.”

“I’m not surprised,” Diego commented. “She and Mori seem really content. Rosi always talks about all these things she’s excited to do... easier once all the baby-having’s out the way.”

“You’re not wrong. She’s happy, and she’s just growing into herself more and more.”

“Five grandkids… not a bad effort.”

“Not bad at all.”

Having sat herself in the middle of the largest picnic blanket, Aurora seemed to know she was the centre of attention. All these people around, all the hubbub that came with a party, and she took it all in her diminutive stride.

“She looks like you,” Diego noted with a laugh. “Everyone else revolving around her.”

“Hey! I know I’m not the centre of the universe!”

How could Taylor not smile? So much of the people she loved in those five children, and each of the five was something unique and precious all on their own. Little pieces of stardust, brightening their family’s world.

Sol had joined Aurora on the blanket, and was cuddling Beatriz in his lap-- even as the toddler made a bid for freedom and for the oh-so-tempting cupcakes set out on the camp table. Still out on the sand, Andi was giving Leonel ‘whizzies’, holding him under his armpits and swinging him wildly around in circles until she collapsed dizzily. And Aurora was just taking it all in; chewing on her teething ring, and watching the antics of her friends and family with quiet curiosity. Every now and then, someone-- her mom and dad, of course, had a particular knack for this-- would catch her eye and smile or pull a face, and she’d come alight with a giggle.

“You know what you’ve gotta do?” Diego prodded. “Grannies and grandkids selfie!”

It wasn’t always going to happen that they’d all be together, Liv’s and Rosa’s lives being in different places. Yeah… they should take a picture.

Estela needed little convincing, and she swiftly herded up Leo-- who rushed over to snuggle with Grandma Tay-- and Andi --who was grabbled and dangled upside down as she laughed hysterically.

“You,” Taylor gushed as she squeezed her little Leo, cuddled up on her lap. “Are. So. Huggy!”

“Hugs are good!” he declared.

Hugs are good, Taylor concurred, as birthday girl Aurora came over with wide arms to join in.

Liv held up her phone to take a picture. “Mom, you’ve got Andi-Pants the wrong way up! Didn’t they ever tell you how to correctly assemble a kid?”

The giggling, squirming Andi was eventually tamed, leaning up on one side of Estela’s lap, while Sol took the other. Perched between them, of course, was baby Bea-- a little bewildered by the bustling around, but taking it in her stride.

Over the top of Aurora’s head, Taylor caught Estela’s eye and they shared a smile. Sometimes, it was necessary to take a moment and really marvel in the beautiful thing they’d made together. The odds faced, the fight for their lives… somehow it was a million miles away now. And ‘happy ever after’ just seemed to keep on coming.

[the-redhead-in-a-dress]

20 Headcanons I have about Chris/Una/La’an as a family in an Earth AU

Chris is Girl!Dad

Una is Mommy

La’an is baby girl

1. La’an still loses her family and Una still rescues her, but Una begs Chris for them to adopt her and he agrees in an instant.

2. That first night they put La’an to bed together. Una wakes up in the night in a panic. Something feels wrong #MomInstincts. She goes to check on La’an and she’s silently crying and terrified in the corner of the room, but making no sound. Una picks her up, wipes her tears and cuddles her. Takes La’an back to her and Chris’ bed.

3. Toddler!La’an likes to spread Eagle across the bed. Una and Chris often wake up in the middle of the night to a little fist or leg in their face. Without a word to Una, Chris gets them a bigger bed.

4. Toddler/Young girl La’an is a thumb sucker

5. Chris gets addicted to Kids TV, he has lots of thoughts on Bluey, Peppa and Dora. Una is confused. La’an finds those shows boring but watches them anyway because it makes her Daddy happy.

6. All throughout elementary school La’an goes to school with immaculately braided hair. This gets the attention of the other school Moms, and soon Una has an unofficial role at birthday parties to make sure everybody has ‘princess hair’

7. When Una is on a work trip or otherwise unavailable Chris braids La’an’s hair. He’s pretty decent.

8. Una gets jealous when the other school moms flirt with Chris. Chris makes it up to her when they’re alone.

9. When La’an gets bullied for her being a Noonien-Singh Una sees red and definitely threatens the principle, Chris uses his dimples to smooth things over.

10. Chris as stay at home dad(?) making pancakes for breakfast every morning.

11. When La’an is sick Chris makes her the best home-made soup and they sit on the couch and La’an cuddles in Chris’ lap.

12. Chris is the most excited of the three to go to Disneyland. He begged Una for months for them all to go visit.

13. He carries La’an on his shoulders and points out all of the Disney Princesses correctly for La’an to see.

14. Chris most definitely wears Minnie Mouse ears, the entire time. Una has to remind him to take them off when he goes to shower.

15. He also ends up on the DilfsofDisneyland Instagram page (this is a real thing)

16. La’an makes Chris this absolutely hideous T-shirt at school that says “Galaxy’s best Dad” but he loves it and wears it absolutely everywhere for a week…until Una conveniently shrinks it in the wash. They stick it on a teddy bear instead.

17. Teenage La’an and Chris share a bond of watching sports games together on the couch. Una doesn’t understand.

18. Chris AND Una both coach La’an’s sports team.

19. La’an and Una head butt a lot in La’an’s teenage years. Chris looks on in fond amusement over how similar the two are.

20. Chris and Una dropping La’an off at college/the academy. Both Una and Chris cry…a lot, and La’an tells them not to be so dramatic. “But you’re our baby girl!” Replies both Chris and Una through the tears. La’an rolls her eyes but lets them hug her tightly anyway.

[oinkinpigprince]

1p/2p Canada headcanons

1p Canada is kinda mean in his own head lol

He’s the type that’s like “I can totally kick his ass” but then he’s like “umm erm excuse m-m-m-me sir 🥺🥺” when he has to actually talk to someone

Canada is kinda anti social and only really follows america around, a lot. Kinda like how you’ll follow your mom @ a family event, he’ll follow his brother around @ meetings or other places

He also has a major resting bitch face but even so, people just tend to over look him or think it’s just America having a rough day

Canada often comes over to Cuba’s house to cook, he likes making food for people and finds it nice to just come over and have a meal with someone

Bro has like, 5 ppl he considers friends and 2 of them are his brother and his pet bear kumajiro

He does like people watching and tends to sit in cafes alone and just watch how ppl interact w/ each other while he sips his latte

The amount of dirt he has on the other countries is astronomical, you can learn a lot when others don’t even notice your existance

France makes Canada tell him EVERYTHING he hears about everyone

2p Canada on the other hand

Bro has the complete opposite problem lol

He wants to be approached and make friends he’s just fucking WAY SCARY so ppl tend to avoid him so they don’t piss him off, even though he’s a total sweetie

He just forgets he’s not a small little snow mouse but in fact a 6’7 300lbs lumber Jack who can throw a pine tree 50 yards

He has big dog syndrome and forgets he’s big and scary so he thinks he’s ppl just don’t find him interesting

So 2p Canada follows 2p America around to hopefully make friends, but his brother instead makes enemies 😔😔

Once Cuba told him that the reason no one talks to him is because he has a mean face, so he tried putting cute stickers on it to make himself look friendlier

Imagine this gaint man walking around w/ hello kitty and paw patrol stickers across his face

Canada’s my favorite character, both the 2p and the 1p, teehee! What silly fellows