#sweet old fashioned love precious in my heart!!!

[angelofviscera]

my looooooove I think about u when you're not around !!!

[heavenlytouches]

I'd love to see Emmett bringing his human gf to meet his family. She and Rose get along already as she has a little 1 yr old that Rose gets to coo over. 💖 I can see Alice buying ALL the outfits too lol! Please and thank you!

Hello love! Thank you so so much for a request and thank you for adding this adorable gif TwT. Let's jump in and meet Cullens, shall we? ^^ El <3

Emmett Cullen- one of us

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

FEM reader

<3 (SFW)

TW-none

Meeting your boyfriends family ^^

Reader has a lil' baby :3

Emmett Cullen

The rain pattered gently against the windowpane, a soft symphony that filled the air of the Cullen home. Outside, the usual gray skies of Forks loomed heavy, but inside the grand house, there was a warmth that belied the chill.

You peered nervously around the spacious living room, your heart fluttering like a caged bird. Today was the day you would meet Emmett’s family, the infamous Cullens—and you had no idea what to expect.

Emmett stood beside you, his muscular arm brushed against yours as if to anchor you to the moment. He flashed you that charming, toothy grin that made your heart race. His presence exuded both strength and warmth, and his laughter had a sweetness that lulled your anxiety.

“Relax, babe! They’re going to love you.”

He reassured, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

“And trust me, Rosalie already likes you, it’s basically a done deal.”

Emmett’s sister Rosalie was known for her beauty and a no-nonsense attitude, but you had already connected with her through brief conversations.

The way she cooed and fawned over your one-year-old—gently combing her fingers through the tiny baby’s hair—revealed a softer side that you found enchanting.

As you waited, the door creaked open, allowing a shadow to spill into the room. Alice bounded in, her petite figure a whirl of energy. She spotted you immediately and squealed with delight.

“There she is! The beautiful human who stole my brother’s heart!”

Alice exclaimed, her voice like bells. She rushed over, enveloping you in a warm hug before stepping back to take you in.

“And look at your little one!”

With a gleeful shriek, she turned her attention to the baby nestled in your arms, her dark eyes glinting with affection.

“Oh, I need to buy her ALL the outfits! Wait I think mom has something from when I was a baby-”

She declared, her hands already reaching for imaginary fabric swatches as she dove into fashion fantasies.

You couldn’t help but laugh at Alice’s enthusiasm. Her excitement was contagious, your anxiety slowly melting away.

“She has enough clothes, but thank you so much.”

You chided playfully, cradling your baby closer.

Just then, Rosalie entered with a soft breeze, her presence immediately commanding attention. She glided across the room, all grace and poise. But when she reached your side, her demeanor softened, and you felt her genuine warmth.

“Hello dear, wow you look so beautiful today”

Rosalie cooed, glancing up at you with sincerity in her eyes.

You smiled and felt your cheeks flush.

“Thank you, Rosalie.”

Her approval meant the world, and you could see why Emmett adored her.

As more of the Cullen clan trickled in, including Carlisle, Edward, Jasper and Esme with their welcoming smiles, the atmosphere of camaraderie enveloped you.

Each member of the family shared little quirks that made you feel like a part of their peculiar world.

With every passing moment, laughter filled the air. You told stories about your life as Emmett teased you in affectionate ways, giving his siblings a glimpse into the human experience you cherished.

The living room transformed into a cozy hub of shared laughter and warm glances. Rosalie, who had perched next to you with your baby on her lap, regaled everyone with tales of motherhood that you had never imagined coming from her.

Alice was right there, capturing every precious moment with a quick snap of her camera, while Jasper stood off to the side, content to absorb the joy around him with a smile.

“Let me tell you, taking care of a little one is like preparing for a battle. They have these tiny weapons called tantrums.”

Rosalie said with a mock seriousness, sending everyone into fits of laughter again.

You chuckled, sharing in the warmth of the moment. As you looked around, you felt an overwhelming sense of belonging rush over you. This strange family, these vampires who moved in shadows and light, felt closer than you ever imagined they could.

Suddenly, Emmett cleared his throat dramatically, silencing the room.

“I propose a toast-”

He declared, lifting an imaginary glass.

“To my gorgeous girlfriend and her equally adorable daughter! May they both shine brighter than the sun!”

You blushed, glancing down at your baby who giggled at her father’s antics, her laughter harmonious with the family’s supportive cheers. Each member followed suit, sharing warm sentiments about you, a flood of love that made your heart swell.

As the evening wore on, you caught moments of quiet intimacy with Emmett. He would sneak in small kisses and whispered compliments, adding to the warmth bubbling inside you.

“Can you believe this is really happening?”

He murmured, leaning close.

“You’re amazing, you know that? I can’t wait for more days like this.”

His words filled you with joy, and as you gazed into his loving eyes, you felt a connection that seemed to penetrate the boundaries of time and space.

Later, when the rain poured harder outside, creating a soothing cadence against the windows, Alice cornered you again, her playful demeanor ever-present.

“I think Rosalie and I should take you shopping tomorrow—after all, you and your baby need to be the best-dressed in Forks!”

You grinned at the idea, the thought of spending time with Alice and Rosalie bringing you a sense of eagerness.

“That sounds like a lot of fun!”

As the night concluded, you felt enveloped in comfort, the weight of the world slipping away. You looked around at the family who had welcomed you with open arms and felt grateful in every sense.

Outside, the rain began to taper off, and a sliver of moonlight broke through the clouds, casting a soft glow on the house. You realized that this was just the beginning of an incredible journey, one that would intertwine your life with Emmett's and his beautiful family—a tapestry woven in love, laughter, and a tiny bit of chaos.

With a smile on your face and warmth in your heart, you knew you had found your place in this twilight realm—forever cherished in the embrace of love and family.

This one was pure fluff and family love! I adore soft Cullens, that's way too pure for my soul TwT

I hope y'all liked this one ^^

Don’t forget, requests are always open and I can write for any character you’d like!

I love you guys so much <33

El <3

(all images were made by: El via canva & paint)

[amirasainz]

Hello there. I love your work. I was wondering if you could write one where baby sainz is pregnant with charles and alexandra baby.

Oh my god. This was so hard to write. I hope I did an okay-ish job. My requests are always open! Enjoy reading! -XoXo

The Pregnancy

Amira’s heart raced as she stared at the positive pregnancy test. She was only 21, and her relationship with Alex and Charles was still in its early stages—just five months old. How could this be happening? Tears streamed down her face as she sat on the toilet seat, overwhelmed by the news.

Unaware of her distress, the apartment door swung open. “Dove, we’re back home!” Alex’s voice echoed through the hallway. She exchanged a puzzled glance with Charles when they received no response. Concerned, they called out to her again. “Jolie fille? Are you here?”

Then they heard it—the heartbreaking sniffles coming from the bathroom. Without hesitation, they rushed to the door. There, they found their beautiful Amira, tears staining her cheeks. “Oh my god, baby, what happened?” Alex and Charles approached her, their worry evident. They immediately ran to her, took her in their arms and whispers sweet nothings in french in her ear. "Tout va bien, mon amour" or "Je t'ai, bébé" was the things she heard. Sometimes Charles would even say "Niente può ferirti, amore mio".

Amira’s sobs subsided after what felt like an eternity. Charles cradled her face in his hands, gently wiping away her tears. “What’s wrong, bébé?” Alex asked once more. Instead of answering, Amira held up the positive test, her emotions laid bare.

She had mentally prepared herself for a difficult conversation—a potential breakup, perhaps. But what unfolded surprised her. Alex and Charles erupted in joy, hugging her tightly and peppering her cheeks with kisses. “Oh honey, you have no idea how happy you make us,” Alex exclaimed.

“You’re not mad at me?” Amira whispered, her voice trembling.

Charles grinned, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Of course not, mon amour. After all, it takes three to make a baby.” His wink was playful, and Amira felt a rush of relief. She was no longer alone; she had her partners by her side. And in that moment, despite the unexpected circumstances, she felt a warmth that eclipsed any fear. What unfolded now was a nine moths journey.

Ah, the joys and challenges of pregnancy! Emotions running wild, cravings taking unexpected turns—Amira’s journey was far from ordinary. But nestled within those moments were the seeds of a beautiful story—a tale of love, anticipation, and shared dreams.

Charles and Alexandra, devoted partners, reveled in the miracle unfolding before them. Their princess, Amira, carried their future—a tiny life nestled within her. The princess treatment they bestowed upon her was more precious than any crown. They doted on her, their attentiveness unwavering.

Charles, ever the thoughtful one, brought home gifts—a tangible expression of his love for his three favorite people. Sometimes it was a soft blanket for cozy nights, a whimsical mobile for the nursery, or a book of bedtime stories to read aloud. Each gift held a promise: “We’re in this together.”

And Alex? Well, she took on a new role—the fashion curator for Amira. It was common knowledge that Amira Sainz was a stunning woman. But pregnancy transformed her—radiance multiplied a thousandfold. She floated through sunny days in pretty summer dresses, her baby bump a testament to life’s magic. Alex’s choices were impeccable, accentuating her glow. The two of them weren't able to look away from their pretty girl.

Their protectiveness knew no bounds. Amira wasn’t allowed to step out of a room without at least one of them by her side. Shared showers became intimate moments—her baby bump a delightful obstacle, yet they navigated it with care. The warmth of water, the closeness of skin—these were the memories etched into their hearts.

At night, they cocooned her. Alex half beneath her, Charles spooned against her back. Their hands rested on her belly, feeling the flutter of life within. They whispered promises to their unborn child, their love a lullaby. And if anyone dared approach their Amira, they wedged themselves between her and the world. No one touched their perfect girl without permission.

Amira’s pregnancy was a symphony of emotions, cravings, and shared laughter. She had the best of both worlds—the thrill of Formula 1 and the tenderness of love. As the days counted down, they dreamed of tiny fingers and sleepy smiles. And when the moment arrived—their baby’s first cry echoing through the room—they knew their lives had changed forever.

Three hearts beating as one—a family forged on racetracks and whispered promises. Amira, Charles, and Alex—their love story had just begun.

[kokusfluffyhair]

Hii :)) could I request yandere!Kokushibo x fem reader headcanons? <3

Yandere!Kokushibou x F!Reader Headcanons

+ He draws you in with how much of a gentleman he is

+ He is basically too perfect

+ He's very old-fashioned but in that cute and sweet kind of way, and he seems to be very pure in his heart

+ Either that, or he comes across as inexperienced ... or having forgotten about the experience he once had

+ But after you get deeper into your relationship, he shows his more possessive side

+ His jealousy has a tendency to take over and he can get aggressive if your eyes are moving away from him

+ He would grab an item of your clothing, pull you towards him, and growl in your ear "I'm ... over here"

+ Don't ever cheat on him unless you want to be unalived

+ The longer you stay in a relationship with him, the more obsessed he will get with you

+ He will force you to become a demon so he can never lose you "Do you ... doubt ... my love for you ... y/n ...? If you believe ... that I love you ... and only wish ... the best ... for you ... then you will allow me ... to bind us together ... for eternity ..."

+ When he leaves on missions, he keeps you locked in his wing so you cannot see other men unless it's Muzan because what can Kokushibou really do about that?

+ He claims that he locks you up for your own protection, because he doesn't want anyone to harm you while he's away "Y/n ... it is for ... your own good ... the world out there ... is too dangerous ... and cruel ..."

+ You're like a precious golden doll that must not ever be stolen away from him

+ Unfortunately, Douma got too close to the wing he keeps you in, and Kokushibou got suspicious that something was going on

+ He would have killed Douma, but Muzan forbade it, so instead he just cut him up multiple times

+ And you? He ties you up in his bedroom and interrogates you

+ He is willing to give you small cuts in your thighs with his katana if he thinks you are lying to him

+ After he becomes satisfied with your answers, he lets you down and apologises to you "I am sorry ... I know you would ... never ... betray me ... but Douma ... is too flirty ... and sometimes I worry ... you may be strayed ..."

[callsigns-haze]

Short love: Chp 13

Summary: The is about widowed father Bradley Bradshaw who enlists his brother-in-law Jake Seresin and childhood best friend Robert Floyd to help raise his three daughters, eldest Donna Jo Margaret (D.J for short), middle child Stephanie and youngest Michelle in his San Diego home. 

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Warning: Fluff, flirting

Here's your fic with the names "Joey" changed to "Bob" and "Danny" changed to "Bradley":

Y/n smiled as she drove, the upbeat tunes of ABBA filling the car with joyous energy. DJ, Stephanie, and Michelle chattered excitedly in the backseat, their voices blending together in a chorus of anticipation.

"Are you excited to marry Jake, Aunt Y/n?" DJ asked eagerly, her eyes shining with curiosity.

Y/n glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I am, DJ," she replied, her voice tinged with warmth. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him."

Stephanie piped up from the backseat, her enthusiasm contagious. "What's he like as a fiancé, Aunt Y/n? Is he romantic?"

Y/n chuckled, her heart swelling with affection for Jake. "He's incredibly romantic, Steph," she admitted, her thoughts drifting to all the sweet gestures and loving moments they had shared together. "He always knows how to make me feel loved and cherished."

Michelle, ever the inquisitive three-year-old, chimed in with her own question. "Will Jake wear a fancy suit at the wedding, Aunt Y/n?"

Y/n nodded, smiling at her youngest niece's curiosity. "Yes, Michelle," she replied, her voice filled with excitement. "He'll look very handsome in his suit."

As they arrived at the boutique, Y/n's heart fluttered with anticipation. She couldn't wait to find the perfect wedding dress and accessories for her special day, surrounded by the love and support of her beloved nieces.

Together, they stepped into the boutique, ready to embark on the next chapter of Y/n's journey to happily ever after. And as they browsed through racks of beautiful dresses and sparkling accessories, Y/n couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and companionship she had found in Jake, and for the cherished moments she shared with her adoring nieces.

The boutique was a whirlwind of lace, silk, and tulle, with racks of wedding dresses in every style imaginable. Y/n's heart raced with excitement as she and her nieces began their search for the perfect gown.

DJ, Stephanie, and Michelle eagerly pulled dresses off the racks, their eyes sparkling with excitement as they imagined Y/n wearing each one. "How about this one, Aunt Y/n?" DJ exclaimed, holding up a classic ballgown with intricate lace detailing.

Y/n smiled as she examined the dress, running her fingers over the delicate fabric. "It's beautiful, DJ," she replied, her heart swelling with gratitude for her nieces' enthusiasm.

Stephanie held up a sleek, modern gown with a plunging neckline and beaded embellishments. "Or maybe something like this, Aunt Y/n?" she suggested, her eyes alight with excitement.

Y/n nodded, impressed by Stephanie's eye for fashion. "That's stunning, Steph," she agreed, envisioning herself walking down the aisle in the elegant gown.

Meanwhile, Michelle toddled around the boutique, her eyes wide with wonder as she explored the array of accessories on display. "Look, Aunt Y/n!" she exclaimed, holding up a shimmering tiara adorned with sparkling crystals. "You could wear this on your wedding day!"

Y/n laughed, her heart melting at Michelle's innocence and enthusiasm. "That's lovely, Michelle," she replied, her eyes brimming with love for her youngest niece.

As they continued their search, trying on dresses and experimenting with different accessories, Y/n felt overwhelmed with gratitude for the precious moments she shared with her nieces. With their love and support, she knew that no matter which dress she chose, her wedding day would be a celebration of love, family, and the beautiful journey she was about to embark on with Jake by her side.

Amidst all the excitement and suggestions from her nieces, Y/n's heart remained set on her dream wedding dress—a classic tulle A-line gown adorned with delicate beaded lace. As she browsed through the racks of dresses, her eyes lit up when she spotted it, hanging gracefully among the other gowns.

With a smile of anticipation, Y/n reached out to touch the soft tulle fabric, feeling the intricate lace appliqués beneath her fingertips. The dress was everything she had ever dreamed of—timeless, elegant, and utterly breathtaking.

"Girls, look!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement as she held up the dress for her nieces to see. "This is the one."

DJ, Stephanie, and Michelle gathered around her, their eyes wide with awe as they admired the gown. "It's perfect, Aunt Y/n!" DJ exclaimed, her voice filled with admiration.

Stephanie nodded in agreement, her face lighting up with a smile. "You're going to look like a princess, Aunt Y/n," she remarked, her voice tinged with excitement.

Michelle clapped her hands in delight, her eyes sparkling with joy. "I love it, Aunt Y/n!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm contagious.

With her nieces' seal of approval, Y/n knew that she had found the dress of her dreams. As she slipped into the gown and looked at her reflection in the mirror, she felt a surge of emotion wash over her. This dress wasn't just a piece of fabric—it was a symbol of love, hope, and the beautiful future she was about to embark on with Jake.

With her nieces by her side, Y/n knew that her wedding day would be a celebration of love, family, and the incredible journey that had led her to this moment. And as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the precious moments she shared with her adoring nieces, who had made this day even more special with their love and support.

Y/n stepped out of the changing room, the soft tulle of her dream wedding dress billowing around her as she emerged into the boutique. Her heart raced with anticipation as she turned to face her nieces, eager to see their reactions.

DJ, Stephanie, and Michelle stood in awe, their eyes wide with wonder as they took in the sight of their aunt in her exquisite gown. Their faces lit up with delight, their smiles stretching from ear to ear as they admired Y/n's radiant beauty.

"Wow, Aunt Y/n, you look like a real-life princess!" DJ exclaimed, her voice filled with admiration.

Stephanie nodded enthusiastically, her eyes shining with excitement. "You're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen, Aunt Y/n," she declared, her words sincere and heartfelt.

Michelle clapped her hands in delight, her face aglow with joy. "Aunt Y/n, you're so pretty!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm contagious.

Tears welled up in Y/n's eyes as she gazed at her nieces, feeling overwhelmed with love and gratitude. Their genuine excitement and adoration filled her heart with warmth, reminding her of the incredible bond they shared as a family.

With her nieces by her side, Y/n knew that her wedding day would be a day to remember—a celebration of love, joy, and the precious moments she shared with her beloved family. And as she stood before them in her beautiful gown, she couldn't help but feel blessed to have such wonderful nieces who had made this day even more special with their love and support.

Overwhel

med by the love and affection of her nieces, Y/n's emotions spilled over, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks as she stood before them in her stunning wedding gown. Without hesitation, DJ, Stephanie, and Michelle rushed forward, their arms open wide as they enveloped their aunt in a warm, heartfelt embrace.

Y/n wrapped her arms around her nieces, holding them close as she savored the sweet embrace of their love. Their hugs were filled with warmth and tenderness, a comforting reminder of the unbreakable bond they shared as a family.

"Thank you, my darlings," Y/n whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Thank you for being here with me, for sharing in this special moment."

DJ, Stephanie, and Michelle squeezed her tightly, their own tears mingling with Y/n's as they held each other close. In that moment, surrounded by the love of her precious nieces, Y/n felt a profound sense of gratitude and happiness wash over her.

With her nieces by her side, Y/n knew that she was ready to embark on the next chapter of her life—a journey filled with love, laughter, and cherished moments shared with her beloved family. And as they stood there together, wrapped in each other's arms, she couldn't help but feel immensely blessed to have such wonderful nieces who had brought so much joy and happiness into her life.

After sharing a heartfelt moment with her nieces, Y/n wiped away her tears of joy and composed herself. She returned to the changing room to slip out of her wedding gown and back into her everyday clothes, a smile still lingering on her lips as she thought about the special bond she shared with her nieces.

Once she was dressed, Y/n made her way over to the assistant, her heart still fluttering with excitement. With determination in her eyes, she approached the assistant and spoke with unwavering confidence.

"I've made my decision," Y/n announced, her voice filled with certainty. "The dress I tried on earlier—the classic tulle A-line with beaded lace—it's the one I'm taking home."

The assistant smiled warmly, understanding the significance of Y/n's choice. "Excellent choice," she replied, her tone filled with approval. "That dress is absolutely stunning on you."

With a sense of satisfaction and anticipation, Y/n made arrangements to purchase the dress, knowing that it would be the perfect gown for her special day. As she left the boutique, she couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement for the future, knowing that she had found the dress of her dreams and that her wedding day would be a celebration filled with love, happiness, and cherished memories.

--

As Jake sat with Bradley and Bob in the living room, he couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness about marrying Y/n soon. Bradley and Bob, sensing his apprehension, exchanged knowing glances before Bradley spoke up.

"So, Jake," Bradley began, his voice gentle but curious. "How are you feeling about marrying Y/n soon?"

Jake took a moment to collect his thoughts, feeling a surge of emotions wash over him. "Honestly, I'm feeling a bit nervous," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But mostly, I'm just excited to start this new chapter of our lives together."

Bob nodded in understanding, a supportive smile on his face. "It's completely normal to feel nervous," he reassured Jake. "But trust me, once you see Y/n walking down that aisle, all your worries will melt away."

Jake smiled gratefully at his friends, feeling reassured by their words of wisdom. "Thanks, guys," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "I can't wait to marry Y/n and start our life together."

With Bradley and Bob by his side, Jake knew that he had the love and support of his friends as he prepared to embark on this exciting journey with Y/n. And as he looked forward to their wedding day, he couldn't help but feel grateful for the incredible bond he shared with both Y/n and his supportive friends.

As they sat together in the cozy living room, Jake opened up more about his feelings, feeling a sense of relief in confiding in his friends. "I've been thinking a lot about our future together," he admitted, his voice tinged with emotion. "Y/n means everything to me, and I just want to make sure I'm ready to take on this next step."

Bradley and Bob listened attentively, nodding in understanding as they offered words of encouragement. "You're going to make a wonderful husband, Jake," Bradley reassured him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "And Y/n is lucky to have someone as caring and devoted as you."

Bob chimed in, his trademark grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, Jake, you've got this," he said, his voice filled with confidence. "Just remember to stay true to yourself and to Y/n, and everything will fall into place."

Feeling uplifted by his friends' support, Jake felt a renewed sense of determination. "Thanks, guys," he said, a grateful smile on his face. "I know I have a lot to learn, but I'm ready to take on whatever challenges come our way."

With the encouragement of his friends and the love of Y/n by his side, Jake knew that he was ready to embrace the journey ahead. And as he looked forward to their wedding day, he couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the life they would build together.

As the conversation continued, Bradley and Bob shared their own experiences and advice, recounting the joys and challenges of marriage. They spoke of the importance of communication, compromise, and unwavering support for one another.

"It's not always going to be easy," Bradley admitted, his voice filled with wisdom. "But as long as you and Y/n are committed to each other and willing to work through any obstacles together, you'll come out stronger on the other side."

Bob nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful. "And don't forget to keep the romance alive," he added with a wink. "Surprise her with flowers, plan spontaneous date nights, and never stop telling her how much you love her."

Jake listened intently to their advice, feeling grateful for their guidance. He knew that he had a lot to learn about being a husband, but with Bradley and Bob's support, he felt more confident in his ability to navigate this new chapter of his life.

As they sat together in the warm glow of friendship, Jake felt a deep sense of gratitude for the bond he shared with Bradley and Bob. With their wisdom and encouragement, he knew that he was ready to take on the challenges and joys of marriage with Y/n by his side.

The conversation drifted into reminiscing about memorable moments with Y/n, laughter filling the room as they shared stories of her kindness, humor, and unwavering love for her family.

"I remember when Y/n first joined our family," Bradley said with a nostalgic smile. "She brought so much joy and warmth into our home from day one."

Bob nodded, his eyes reflecting fond memories. "Yeah, and she's always been there for us, through thick and thin," he added, his voice filled with appreciation.

Jake's heart swelled with love as he thought about Y/n, his soon-to-be wife. "She's truly one of a kind," he said softly, a smile spreading across his face. "And I can't wait

to spend the rest of my life making her happy."

In that moment, surrounded by cherished memories and the unwavering support of his friends, Jake felt a deep sense of gratitude for the incredible woman he was about to marry. And as they laughed and reminisced late into the night, he knew that their love would only continue to grow stronger with each passing day.

As the evening wore on, the conversation turned to lighter topics, and Bradley, Bob, and Jake found themselves delving into deeper conversations, discussing their hopes and dreams for the future and reflecting on the journey that had brought them to this moment.

"I never imagined I'd be here, about to marry the love of my life," Jake confessed, a hint of awe in his voice as he glanced at his friends.

Bradley smiled warmly, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. "You've come a long way, Jake," he said, his voice tinged with admiration. "And I have no doubt that you and Y/n are meant to be together."

Bob nodded in agreement, his expression serious. "You're both so lucky to have found each other," he remarked, his tone filled with sincerity. "And I know you'll build a beautiful life together."

Jake felt a swell of gratitude for his friends' unwavering support, knowing that they would always be there for him, no matter what the future held. With their encouragement and camaraderie, he felt ready to take on whatever challenges came his way, confident that he had a strong support system to lean on.

As they sat together in the comfort of their shared home, surrounded by the warmth of friendship and the promise of a bright future, Jake couldn't help but feel a deep sense of contentment. With Bradley and Bob by his side, he knew that he was ready to embrace the adventure of marriage and all the joys and uncertainties that lay ahead.

As the night wore on, the conversation turned to lighter topics, and Bradley, Bob, and Jake found themselves reminiscing about their favorite memories with Y/n.

"I'll never forget the time Y/n surprised us with a homemade dinner after a long day at work," Bradley recalled, a nostalgic smile gracing his lips. "It wasn't just about the food—it was the thought and effort she put into it that made it special."

Bob nodded in agreement, his eyes alight with fondness. "And remember when she organized that impromptu game night and we ended up laughing until our stomachs hurt?" he added, a grin spreading across his face.

Jake joined in the laughter, his heart swelling with affection for Y/n. "She has a way of making even the simplest moments feel magical," he remarked, his voice filled with admiration.

As they continued to share stories and laughter, Jake felt grateful for the bond he shared with his friends and the love they all felt for Y/n. In that moment, surrounded by cherished memories and the warmth of friendship, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude for the incredible woman he was about to marry and the wonderful friends who had become like family to him.

tagging:

@callsign-magnolia

@shanimallina87

@callsign-dexter

@horseslovers2016

@rosiahills22

@djs8891

@hookslove1592

@emma8895eb

@hardballoonlove

@kmc1989

@dempy

@mamachasesmayhem

@senawashere

@buckysteveloki-me

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@itsmytimetoodream

@jessicab1991

@ahh-chickens

@86laura11

[tsu-kitty]

it’d be really interesting to see you go the sweeter and bubblier route! I think it’s still important she’s not just an airhead, rather she’s just as (maybe a little less or maybe a little more) smart as tsukki- it’s their chemistry and bond that brings them together rather than a rivalry or banter. she’s not stupid, instead she chooses to be sweet with him and bring out a more docile area of his complex personality. she’s not snarky, she chooses to spend her time with him rather than being brought to it by the need to prove something to him. she knows she doesn’t, because they love each other and they get to be calm and enjoy themselves around each other in all their respective hobbies- and if tsukki’s hand tape gets replaced with a pink, patterned version then, well, what’s a guy to do?

yes, okay, slay. i so will.

i've seen others say this, but tsukishima with an emotionally intelligent partner to match his general intelligence is such a great concept.

but like agh i'm obsessed. obsessed. big scary boy who turns into a precious little softy with his partner? stop, it's everything really. like, imagine them talking in the hallway and he's looking at her so gently, tucking her hair behind her ear, then someone else comes up to talk to them and his face just drops. uuuuggggghhhhhhh.

or she's giving a presentation in class and the person next to tsuki keeps talking and he kicks their chair and glares at them like "how dare you speak when she's speaking, know your place you filthy mortal". lmao a little overboard but you get the point.

and just imagine all the little physical ways she creeps into his life. like, as you said, the occasional coloured tape on his fingers, hello kitty stickers on his headphones, a badtz-maru charm on his school bag (cause she thinks he looks like him), him using a pen with a fluffy pink top she lent him, him starting to use a fruity flavoured lip balm instead of his old plain one. and his fashion style slowly morphs from plain and basic to still simple but chic and slightly preppy.

oh, and her asking for his opinion on her new nails. and he always says he likes them. omg maybe this is too much, but what if for his birthday she writes his name on her nails. because tsukishima in english has ten letters, one for each finger. or maybe it's kei written in a tiny font on her thumb (in english or kanji). and when he sees it his face goes bright red and he pulls her into a hug so he can hide his blush from her, but she can feel his heart practically beating out of his chest.

oh my god and when he realises he loves her, like he's in love, he makes her a playlist. it's the sappiest thing he's ever done and probably will ever do in his life, but it's the only thing he can think of in the moment.

or maybe he chooses just one song that perfectly encapsulates the way he feels about her. as they walk home together, he unexpectedly places his headphones over her ears and presses play. he tries to act cool and collected, but he's dying inside and can't bring himself to look at her while it plays.

omg i'm gonna write that, just you wait.

[viktheviking1]

Confession V2

(This is kinda outta context. I tried to make it make sense. If you want to know what really happened that led up to this scene, I've got links to my fanfic at the bottom. I hope you enjoy anyway!)

Blitz hadn't seen Stolas in so long. Between Stolas getting kidnapped, and then getting kidnapped himself, he had realized how precious time in this life was. Not to mention the giant lump in his throat as he watched his old friend and first crush live the life he always wanted, and get to love whomever he pleased. Stolas had told him once that he loved him, and he brushed him off. He wouldn't make the same mistake again.

So when he knocked on the door of Stolas's mansion, on a day that was distinctly NOT a full moon, he had one goal in mind.

"Hey there, good looking." Blitz said, leaning in the doorway.

Stolas was clearly taken by surprise, "Oh! Hello, dear. What can I do for you?"

"The better question is what can I do you for?" Blitz grinned.

Stolas couldn’t help but let a goofy, sheepish smile, sprawl across his face, “Heh. He he he! How silly.” He started giggling little hoots.

Blitz seemed to let out a sigh of relief, “It’s been so long since I heard that sound.”

Stolas immediately stopped, “Oh-! I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no!” Blitz closed the space between them, and grabbed his hand, “I meant . . . that I missed it.”

Stolas’s heart flipped, and he looked down at their hands. He tangled their fingers together and he watched as Blitz squeezed his hand.

"You know . . . I've had some time to think. . ." Blitz started, looking away as he blushed, "about you and I. About our arrangement. About how I . . . really feel about you."

“Oh~? And how do you feel about me?~”

He expected a sarcastic return, a witty comback, or at best, a flirtatious remark. He was not expecting for Blitz to grab his cardigan, and tug him down, and kiss him roughly.

Blitz pulled back after a moment but didn’t let go of him, pressing their foreheads together, “I love everything about you, Stolas. I love your creepy bird mouth and the way you laugh. I love listening you talk about your stupid hyperfixations on plants and toads and constellations. I love how much you worry over your daughter and how a simple text from her can make your day. I love how you are somehow so shy and sweet, and somehow the k*nkiest motherf**ker alive and that you know what you and chase after it. I love to listen to you sing in the shower and watch you gaze at the sky. I love you so much, Stolas." He let go of his shirt and cupped his face in his hands, and pulled back to get a better look at him, "and that's why I've been so scared to hurt you. And I know being with me would mean a lot of hard decisions, public ridicule, and general trouble for you. Not to mention my tendency to be the worst of bad luck charms."

"Blitz-"

"But if you really do think for some crazy, insane reason, that I'm worth all that, then . . ." He nuzzled him and smiled, "why the f**k not?"

Stolas stared into his eyes, stunned. He reached up and pinched Blitz's cheek.

"Ow!" He shouted, but didn't let go of his face, "what the f**k was that for?!"

"I had to check if I was dreaming." Stolas blinked.

Blitz laughed, "You're supposed to pinch yourself to prove it."

"Oh, that's right." Stolas grinned.

"Dumb*ss." Blitz chuckled, and the two fell into another kiss. There tongues tied together in a familiar fashion, the sweet taste of renewed love and churros on their lips. It was also so completely different from their kisses of the past. Before everything was hot, passionate and fast, but this was a tender, honest kiss. A purity in it that neither had ever had before.

Stolas felt a sharp pain, and pulled away suddenly. Standing at his full height, he reached his hand down to rub his butt where it hurt, "Ouch!"

He looked down at Blitz who was grinning mischievously, "So? Is it a dream?"

It took him a moment to realize what had happened, but when he did, he burst out laughing.

". . . It wasn't that funny." Blitz smiled, eyebrows drawn together.

"Oh yes, my dear," Stolas leaned down and picked Blitz up, letting him sit on his arm, so he could face him, "Yes, it was."

Blitz snorted, "You have such a weird sense of humor."

Stolas giggled, "You're the one who made the joke!"

"I know what I said and I stand by it." Blitz nodded.

They both laughed together.

[pepperinstarryskyicecream]

Currently going through the whole DA triology from DAO DA2 and now going through DAI. Love the series but what pains me the most is seeing how Lelianna is in DAI. She was my Warden's bff along with Morrigan, and I truly adore her character so much. In DAO she was this sweet, bubbly person, who will invite you to go shopping with her and tease you about your love interest. Yet, she still has a pragmatic and ruthless edge due to her past (like how she would casually tell you the manipulation game she played when she was a minstrel or when she told Alistair to, for a lack of better word, harden himself up when they discussed about Lothering's fate after the attack). I love how she was portrayed in DAO, and choose to softened her in her quest, telling her that she is not alone anymore, she is different from Marjolaine and can choose to be good, my Warden even promise her that after the Blight is over they would continue to go on adventuring.

And then here we are, 10 years later and she slipped back to her old lifestyle and it pain me so much to see her like this. Not to say that this development was illogical, but rather it makes sense in my canon playthrough. My Warden committed the ultimate sacrifice, leaving her behind and break their promise. Everyone in the old band has their own place to go and she is left to her own device again. She has lost so much, from Marjolaine, her little cloister in Lothering, have to witness her friend died right in front of her and her new found family quickly disband after everything is over. So obviously, she went back to what she was familiar with, to her game of manipulate people and secrets.

Seeing her becoming so relentless and unforgiving in DAI really breaks my heart. Where is my BFF bard who is so passionate about fashion and shoes and will talk your ears out about all the tales that she has gathered. The critical hit was her comment when Inky asked her about HoF "The world has been duller since she died, it still is" 😭😭😭😭. Despite only spent time with HoF for only a year, she still hold my Warden dear in her heart even after all this time (in DA2 she even said she wrote songs of their adventure together, like my gosh that is so precious)

[memoiandy]

Sparkles and memories

Astarion x fTav fanfic

(Note: I posted this as a part of another thread and the fic was bigger than I anticipated. I am posting here as my own separate post. Mostly for myself but whoever else reads it, please enjoy!

This oneshot is my HC version of the poly convo with Astarion. I wish Tav could politelly decline Halsin and then talk with Astarion about it. The scene starts after Astarion says he'd be fine with Tav sexing Halsin up. Which my Tav is defo not gonna do...)

She frowns, taking a small step back. It stings a bit, the thought Astarion would be fine if she shared her body with the druid. But then she noticed that curve of his pretty mouth, that signature fake smile she recognizes now.

"Why would I do that?" She keeps her voice low but the slight irritation comes through anyway.

He hears it, of course he does. He's great at reading people. His next words are more genuine. "Well... it's not like I have much to offer at the moment. And with my past... my generous amount of so called lovers... It's not like I can stop you from having a good time."

The more he talks, the more vulnerable look creeps into his face. Her chest tightens, the familiar ache when she sees him like this - strugling with the shadows of his past, the pain seeping through.

She moves closer to Astarion, watching his reaction. There is tension in the air, something she didn't want at all. She meant to tell him about the conversation with Halsin as a joke. She thought it was funny! How could she even think about being with someone other than her vampire?! Ridiculous!

"This... us, we want this to be real, no?" She touches her heart and then his heart in an elven fashion. She leaves her hand on his chest as if seeking for his heartbeat.

He nods, eyes uncertain where this is going. He's so endearing like this, her sweet, lovable rogue. To confirm his gesture, Astarion closes his bigger hand on top of hers and caresses it carefuly.

"I do, you know I do. I just wish I could offer you more. I wish... I could erase all the memories of those countless meaningless bodies and hands and mouths... "

She stops him by putting a gentle hand on his cheek. "Then lets create new memories." She tries to make him feel all the care and adoration she feels for this silly, frustrating, amazing man. And love, something she is still too afraid to tell him. It feels too big to share. She keeps it close to her hearth as something sweet and precious.

She stands on her toes and puts a light kiss on one of his cheeks, the one with that small beauty mark. "I have such a good time with you, whatever we're doing," she whispers and it sounds like a secret shared just between the two of them.

She kisses the top of his nose playfully. "You reading one of your adventure books with Drizzt aloud or teaching me how to lockpick." She kisses the corner of his mouth and feels his arm sneaking around her waist and pulling her closer. She gasps a little, she always does and it makes him hum hapilly.

"There is nowhere I'd rather be. I have no desire to explore what Halsin has to offer as a lover. Or any of the others. I am yours as long as you'll have me," she finishes and hates how her face and neck flush with pink. She is 137 years old and being with this damned vampire makes her blush...

But it makes him smile and relax. He crooks his eyebrows in that charming way of his. "And I thought I am the one with a silver toungue."

She chuckes and puts her arms around his neck. This feels good and right and the tension is gone and forgotten. "Well... I had a good teacher."

He feigns shock. "Another suitor! Do I know him?"

"You might. He's very charming. Roguish and witty. Very funny. Very brave. Handsome as hell," she sighs dreamily.

Astarion tuts and tightens his arms around her. "Do I have to kill him as well, Sparkles? I planned on getting rid of the big druid already. You know I killed a bear before..."

This time she kisses his lips because you can't be this close to Astarion and not kiss him. He kisses her back more fiercely, cupping the back of her head in his hand and making her bow back a bit. Greedy man.

It's been a while since they kissed like this. It's thrilling and sweet and feels like a promise when his tongue slips between her lips and tastes her. It makes her curl her toes and forget anything other than the sharpness of his fangs. The way his velvet toungue leads hers in this dance. How he pushes her so close to his body so there no place for anything else. Just like in those silly novels she always thought are just a fantasy. But this... it makes her want, want, want...

She makes quiet needy noises and feels her magic spike up. Fine sparkles fly in the air, like their own personal bonfire. They kiss his skin and it feels as if he's touched by sunlight. He grunts as he realizes he's the cause of this, he makes her lose control and sparkle for him.

She pulls away before the magic can hurt him.

"How is that for a new memory?" She bumps her nose into his gently. She loves his nose. She started to love everything about this man.

"Perfect." His eyes are still closed and he breathes her in. His anchor, his friend, his confidant. She smells like home. "You're perfect, Sparkles."

She laughs quietly, a small happy sound. Then she straightens up and pulls back. "Now where were we? You won't believe the conversation I just had with Halsin!"

[searchingforserendipity25]

Sorry I have another one if you want :) Míriel and 'old and forgetton'

thank you for the asks @theworldisquietheretooquiet! got míriel-brain disease and ended up finishing this one first <3

the usual míriel & descendants warnings apply. 1458 words.

-

Labours of the Living

Finwë found her hidden away, in the alcove she retreated to when her own working rooms were grown tiresome to her eyes. 

It did not surprise Míriel. Finwë had always had a talent for finding her, a skill honed through many years; even, and most particularly, when Míriel sought an escape. He loved her too well to want her lonesome, and knew her to well to think she should always be given her way in living engrossed in her work.

“My lady, my bright lady, here I find you at last,” he said, and came upon the secret curve of the staircase like a vision of himself. Míriel saw him as he was, tall and well-braided, the darkness of his eyes gleaming for her in the light of the high window; for a moment a stranger, a new and beloved thing.

Underneath the heartbeat of her own breast another one jumped, calling to her, thrilled at the sight. 

Your father, she told her child, agreeing. Let one of them delight in the world and in Finwë particularly, when she was too weary for it. That was what children were for, joy-making and living stores of joy - so she was told. Your high-hearted father, who shall love you better than all things. 

Finwë loved her so well. Nearly as much as the promise of their child; a curious loss of preeminence for Míriel, who understood him perfectly. 

“Such hurry, my lady,” Finwë-king teased, jumping up the steps around one pyramid of bolts of brocade like he had when jumping the lake-stone path over the waters of Cuiviénen to visit the dwellings of Míriel, where she had kept her wild goats and first mastered the spindle. “That is princely garment that you have wrought lately, for a prince in many ages.”

“Or many princes, of many ages,” said Míriel. 

She looked down at her hand upon the needle, the brilliant floss strung through, the hoop in her lap and the organized disorder of fabrics around her and that same strangeness rose like sea-sickness, the hungry thing inside her restless and small, wanting always to know, know, know what it saw through her eyes. 

It wearied her spirit. And the flesh was weary enough as was. It had been a great deal of baskets and bolts of fabric to carry, even if it was but a fraction of what she was working upon; and she was weary still after the climb, though Telperion’s light upon the window beside her had fractured in many changing angles since first she arrived. She had lost precious time with it; the child delighted in the spectrum of it, and her eyes, too, were passionate about colour, heavy enough to grow distracted.

 Míriel of the needle with her strong will distracted from her craft! It had not happened before, even when she had been wounded, cold and famished; it happened far too often now. Much had grown tiresome to Míriel, as her child rounded her belly, her most ambitious project kicking at her bowels and sending her constant reveries of strong, flashing impressions. 

She made a wardrobe entire: court robes and sturdy traveling layers knitted in complicated patterns, thin shifts for sleep of beautifully embroidered satin. Hats in fashion not yet invented, caps and veils and nets, stitched with golden coins and intricate lacework in gold-thread. Aprons of leather-work, embossed so a distracted craftsman might pass his fingertips over the designs as they thought. 

The flaming of a poppy, and the blossoming of a new flame; the sweet purple-reds of the bougainvillea. Linen, velvet, brocade and samite, all of it red, and red, and more red. Her child saw nothing else, in the haven of her womb; that was all it knew to love. Míriel found many variety of it among the fabrics of her stores, dyed others, to her own perfect demands. 

Not easy, to stand before the vats with the shifting paddles, moving cotton in water with heavy, forceful arms; and less so, when her ankles so ached and her back complained. Her shoulders ached still after the long labour of her early pregnancy. But Míriel would have no aid, nor even from her best apprentices. She had a reverie in mind, a dream that was no dream, the crafter’s perfect vision of the work to finish; and she meant for it to be impeccable, for it to last. 

Her king knelt before her on the cold harshness of the stone, and kissed her hands affectionately, peering down to look at the work on the hoop. 

“That shall certainly be marvelous,” Finwë agreed,  “Many marvels for our children shall come from your hand; yet, Míriel, do not forego sleep for it! Thou art crafting many masterpieces at once.”

His smile was knowing, tender around the eyes. It suited him: the care he took with his lady, the last light before the Mingling curling around the stay hairs that escaped his crown. Prickly, goading and laughing and bold and full of wonder like a self-sustaining and warming fire: that was as she liked him best, the chieftain and the craftsmen she loved, her old friend from the old world. 

Never had she resented him any softness, nothing of the gentleness that was in him. It had been pleasure, at first, how swiftly he nurtured it, beside his eagerness for the widening of their close and secretive family, the dear circle of their arms around one another; but she could not return it. 

So much of Tírion-upon-Tuna was made exactly to his liking, from the materials he thought best, arranged in the angles of his thinking. Míriel loved the city so well. It was not Tírion’s fault Míriel was too weary to stomach the sight of it well, nor her husband’s tenderness. 

She took his hands, that he might feel the child kicking inside her; and then took them, so he might help her down the steep path of her own devising. 

-

Fëanáro’s rooms had gathered dust for many Ages, when at last Míriel returned to life, committed again to life. He had taken much with himself on his exile to the far northern fortress of Formenos, and among his many works and treasures had been the full collection of Míriel’s works: all his wardrobe, what of it had not been passed on to his sons as they grew. 

Míriel knew this: she had woven him garbed with the long tunics of her own make, raising a torch and declaring a fell promise, his sons arrayed around him likewise: in capes, and hats, and embroidered robes of rich, blood-dark crimson. She did not look for her son in the apartments where he had been young and unhappy, nor the rooms set aside for the children he begot in love - did not open drawers, or press her mouth against worn fabrics made into paler shades by layers of dust through the Ages. 

Nothing remained. He was not loved now, her son; the rooms were barred and barren, so they might not be destroyed in wrathful grief by the righteous.  

The palace of Tírion was much changed. There were rooms enclosed and airless, like the chambers and cairns of stone where the dead had been buried on the journey out of Cuiviénen. There was Indis’ hand in the leveling of high stone walls and the raising of galleries crowned and surrounded in glass; Indis’ hand who had drawn the mezzanines, and decided on the colour of upholstery, the design of the candlesticks. 

And Finwë, in all things Finwë’s fondness for soft fabrics and bold colours, his liking for meadows with many moss-covered boulders set together for conversation matured into a tendency for low tables, and vast rooms with many seats.

 Míriel’s own marks remained, for they had been made to endure unseen: curling staircases; cunning doorways, alcoves with stained glass windows and a seat carved into the parapet, the sort of places a distracted broideress might retreat to work. 

Some of the places had been plainly found. Childish, painstaking scratches lined the windowsills, tengwar in a faltering fashion, still inventing itself, scratching the first attempts. A quiet place, made in ancient times. 

How young she had felt, sketching the project of it upon Finwë’s blueprints! Old, and forgotten; for no children ran now, joyful or wretched, through the secret hallways of Tírion’s great palace. 

There and only then did Míriel raise her hand to lay over her belly, which had so shuddering with life when last she stood in her quiet hideout; only then did she weep, Þerindë of the needle, as her child had wept in secret against the sleeves she had dyed and sewn and embroidered with the last of her last life. 

[honey-minded-hivemind]

The platonic yanderes I've mentioned before all have nicknames and relationships with their bby (a.k.a. you, the reader!). How they met their bby is considered a special, life-changing moment in their eyes, and they are protective in their own... special... ways. But that story will come at a later date. For now, I think I should delve into some smaller stuff , so let's explore the type of humor and nicknames between these platonic yans and their bby:

• 🧡Wolverine/Logan Howlett🦡: nicknames for his bby: pup, bub, darlin', shortstack (regardless of if you are shorter than him or taller than him)

Nicknames his bby gives him: Lo, Old Guy, Wulv, Mr. Cigarette Duet (the bby might have either been testing the waters with that one, or under anesthesia. People say weird things under that stuff)

Their humor: dry humor and small quips

• 🦁Sabretooth/Victor Creed🦷: nicknames for his bby: cub, fresh meat, whelp, kitten

Nicknames his bby gives him: Vic, Large Lion Man, Shere Khan, Mr. Backstabber (both literally and metaphorically, bby has seen him do both, it was messy)

Their humor: cat puns

• 🦡Wolverine 2.0/Laura Kinney💛: nicknames for her bby: fox, pearl, sibling-in-arms, honeybee

Nicknames her bby gives her: Laurel, Kin-ship, Baby Claws, Little Badger

Their humor: stand up comedy (where you pretty much do a spoken caricature of your life, poking fun at it, or something that happens to you)

• 🐺Daken/Akihiro🌀: nicknames for his bby: beautiful, doll, handsome, my favorite (insert sexuality/gender)

Nicknames his bby gives him: Wolf Guy, Seducter, Nature's Child, Lone Wolf (the bby calls him Seducter because they found out about his pheromone ability. And yeah, the bby poked fun at the fact it failed on the bby, because they aren't attracted to him in the least like that)

Their humor: quips and movie references

• 🔥Marvel Girl/The Phoenix/Jean Grey🦚: nicknames for her bby: sunshine, dear, sweetie, firecracker

Nicknames her bby gives her: Miss Marvelous, Venus, mind games, Jeanie

Their humor: inside jokes

• 😎Cyclops/Scott Summers🚨: nicknames for his bby: kiddo, shortstuff, kid, gremlin

Nicknames his bby gives him: Scout, Shades, Laser-Light, Ruby in the Rough (bby wanted him to feel good about his power, so they say those nicknames in a nice fashion)

Their humor: puns all the way

• 🥈Cable/Nathan Summers🤖: nicknames for his bby: tiny, powerhouse, tyke-bomb, brat (he means these nicely, even if he is gruff and stern)

Nicknames his bby gives him: Back To The Future, Terminator, Metal Man, Mr. Robocop (bby couldn't help themself, they saw so many nickname opportunities)

Their humor: banter and witty remarks

• 🎭Mystique/Raven Darkholme💙: nicknames for her bby: child, precious, dear, little heathen

Nicknames her bby gives her: Karma Chameleon, Blue, enchantress, The Blue Fairy

Their humor: witty and dry remarks

• 🎱Rogue/Anne-Marie🥀: nicknames for her bby: suga', hun, love, sweetheart

Nicknames her bby gives her: Miss-Anne-thrope, Marie, Killer Queen, lovedove

Their humor: Southern stand up comedy and phrases ("sweet Southern heat is not just a flavor", "sweeter than apple pie", and jokes of all the various animals found in the South, especially in weird and concerning places)

• ♠️Gambit/Remy LeBeau♥️: nicknames for his baby: Ace of Spades, imp, bebe, ma moitie

Nicknames his bby gives him: King of Hearts, Sugar and Spice, trickster, Jack

Their humor: poking fun at languages and their relationships (the English and French language are hard to master. Good job if you understand half of it, or even a little of it)

• 🌌Nightcrawler/Kurt Wagner😇: nicknames for his bby: angel, treasure, friend, beauty

Nicknames his bby gives him: doll-baby (it is a Southern nickname, it means sweet, charming, and innocent, in my area), Angel of the Night, fluffball, Blue (Da Ba Dee)

Their humor: pranks. Pranks all around

These are all my opinion, and if you get the references, great job! If not, that is okay! These were my ideas of nicknames and humor for previously mentioned platonic yanderes (plus their bby's nicknames for them!). I hope you enjoyed these platonic yandere honeycomb thoughts!

[stromuprisahat]

... Daella had been next in line, but the tearful princess presented an entirely different sort of problem. “My little flower,” was how the queen described her. Like Alysanne herself, Daella was small—on her toes, she stood five feet two inches—and there was a childish aspect to her that led everyone who met her to think she was younger than her age. Unlike Alysanne, she was delicate as well, in ways the queen had never been. Her mother had been fearless; Daella always seemed to be afraid. She had a kitten that she loved until he scratched her; then she would not go near a cat. The dragons terrified her, even Silverwing. The mildest scolding would reduce her to tears. Once, in the halls of the Red Keep, Daella had encountered a prince from the Summer Isles in his feathered cloak, and squealed in terror. His black skin had made her take him for a demon.

Cruel though her brother Vaegon’s words had been, there was some truth to them. Daella was not clever, even her septa had to admit. She learned to read after a fashion, but haltingly, and without full comprehension. She could not seem to commit even the simplest prayers to memory. She had a sweet voice, but was afraid to sing; she always got the words wrong. She loved flowers, but was frightened of gardens; a bee had almost stung her once.

Jaehaerys, even more than Alysanne, despaired of her. “She will not even speak to a boy. How is she to marry? We could entrust her to the Faith, but she does not know her prayers, and her septa says that she cries when asked to read aloud from The Seven-Pointed Star.” The queen always rose to her defense. “Daella is sweet and kind and gentle. She has such a tender heart. Give me time, and I will find a lord to cherish her. Not every Targaryen needs to wield a sword and ride a dragon.”

...

At fourteen, she kept company with Denys Swann, Simon Staunton, Gerold Templeton, and Ellard Crane, all promising squires of her own age, but Staunton tried to make her drink wine and Crane kissed her on the lips without her leave, reducing her to tears. By year’s end Daella had decided she hated all of them.

At fifteen, her mother took her across the riverlands to Raventree (in a wheelhouse, as Daella was afraid of horses) ... It all fell to pieces when Daella learned that the Blackwoods kept the old gods, and she would be expected to say her vows before a weirwood. “They don’t believe in the gods,” she told her mother, horrified. “I’d go to hell.”

...

Lord Rodrik, true to his word, was a kind and caring husband who never failed to pamper and protect the bride he called “my precious princess.” Such letters as Daella sent her mother (letters largely written for her by Lord Rodrik’s younger daughter, Amanda) spoke glowingly of how happy she was, how beautiful the Vale, how much she loved her lord’s sweet sons, how everyone in the Eyrie was so kind to her.

...Daella was not doing near as well. After a year and a half of marriage, a different sort of message arrived at the Red Keep by raven. It was very short, and written in Daella’s own uncertain hand. “I am with child,” it said. “Mother, please come. I am frightened.”

Queen Alysanne was frightened too, once she read those words. She mounted Silverwing within days and flew swiftly to the Vale ... three moons before Daella was due to give birth.

Though the princess professed delight that her mother had come, and apologized for sending her such a “silly” letter, her fear was palpable. She burst into tears for the slightest reason, and sometimes for no reason at all, Lord Rodrik said. His daughter Elys was dismissive, telling Her Grace, “You would think she was the first woman ever to have a baby,” but Alysanne was concerned. Daella was so delicate, and she was carrying very heavy. “She is such a small girl for such a big belly,” she wrote the king. “I would be frightened too, if I were her.”

Queen Alysanne stayed beside the princess for the rest of her confinement, sitting by her bedside, reading her to sleep at night, and comforting her fears. “It will be fine,” she told her daughter, half a hundred times. “She will be a girl, wait and see. A daughter. I know it. Everything will be fine.”

She was half right. Aemma Arryn, the daughter of Lord Rodrik and Princess Daella, came into the world a fortnight early, after a long and troubled labor. “It hurts,” the princess screamed through half the night. “It hurts so much.” But it is said she smiled when her daughter was laid against her breast.

Everything was far from fine, however. Childbed fever set in soon after birth. Though Princess Daella desperately wished to nurse her child, she had no milk, and a wet nurse was sent for. As her fever rose, the maester decreed that she might not even hold her babe, which set the princess to weeping. She wept until she fell asleep, but in her sleep she kicked wildly and tossed and turned, her fever rising ever higher. By morning she was gone. She was eighteen years of age.

...

... Alysanne Targaryen, in her grief, blamed herself and Lord Arryn and the Eyrie’s maester for their parts in her daughter’s demise…but most of all, she blamed Jaehaerys. If he had not insisted that Daella wed, that she pick someone before year’s end…what harm would it have done for her to stay a little girl for another year or two or ten? “She was not old enough or strong enough to bear a child,” she told His Grace back at King’s Landing. “We ought never have pushed her into marriage.”

It is not recorded how the king replied.

Fire and Blood (George R. R. Martin)

Jaehaerys’ guide on:

How to get rid of that one obviously retarded child in no steps, because you only have to give an order and your wife will have to do the rest.

Can’t wait for him to wed her only child at eleven!

[martianbugsbunny]

Locked In This Embrace (An Espionage Husbands Fic)

*Shapeshifts from being a filing cabinet* So funny story, this started out as like, a good old fashioned scene rewrite fic where I just thieved the dialogue from the show itself and added some inner monologue and of course my own twist at the end bc otherwise what's the point? and OF COURSE the scene I picked was the forehead touch scene between Nick and Talos, I'm obsessed with it. It was supposed to be basically just that scene plus a romantic end, real short and sweet.

It kind of got away from me and consumed several hours of my life. I analyzed the scene itself so a lot of the gestures Talos makes in the fic are actually what he was doing onscreen. His inner monologue is matched to the canon gestures/facial expressions and I swear on the ship it works so well he could actually be thinking that stuff in canon. At this point half or less of the fic is the actual scene rewrite, that's how much of my own material I added.

...and yes, the title is derived from a post I made earlier about this exact scene. It's maybe not the best title but that's my weak spot so that's how it is.

Here's my offering to the blorbo gods and the Espionage Husbands fandom, read on and enjoy!

“I am so sorry,” Fury said.

“Me too,” Talos replied, his voice low. He savored the feeling of Furys forehead pressed against his, sharing space, breathing the same air; he had lost one love, but the other lived, and the fact that Fury cared enough to meet him with a Skrull embrace rather than a Human one returned a bit of the warmth to his heart that he had lost when Soren died. “Soren loved you,” he said. It felt right to remind Fury of that—Fury, who had cared for her almost as much as Talos had.

“But she worried, mate,” he went on (he was never quite sure if he was using that word in the Human context of "friend" or in the Skrull one of "partner"), “That it would take something like this to bring you back to Earth.”

Fury pulled away to look Talos in the eyes. “I guess she was right,” Talos finished.

For a moment, Fury said nothing. Talos wondered if he knew that the word ‘Earth’ was never the one that he or Soren had used when worrying over Fury’s absence from their lives. Talos remembered her saying, only a few days before she died, “I’m afraid of what it will take to bring him back to us.”

But Fury didn’t know that.

He cupped his hands around Talos’s face for a brief moment; far too little time, yet so precious, and then let go and sighed heavily. “Tell me about Gravik,” he said, and Talos tried not to let it show in his face how horribly heartbroken he was that Fury could move on from such a personal moment so quickly. Fury was back for Earth, not for…well, now it was just him. Even if he did feel for Talos the way Talos did for him, which Talos had never been able to decipher or been bold enough to ask, there were more important things to do than trying to determine where the two of them stood.

And still…Talos was never one to let things go. “Let’s just talk about you first,” he suggested. “We’ve been helping you for all these years, to ensure that you kept your promise. But after the Blip…you were different.” Life during those five years had been a nightmare for Talos, even though he had survived. It was terribly complicated, being grateful that his wife and daughter had been spared, and yet grieving the loss of Nick like the loss of his soul. If he hadn’t had Soren to lean on, Talos hated to think of how completely the darkness would have enveloped him.

“You disappeared.” That was the final pang. After all the agony of the Blip, Fury had been returned to life and Talos had, for a moment, hoped he could finally ask, once and for all, where their relationship truly stood. And then—he was gone. Settled in space, almost as lost to Talos as he had been when he was dead.

“Carol Danvers disappeared,” Talos said. She, like Fury, was supposed to be helping the Skrulls find a home. He was less angry at her, though, because she wasn’t Fury. She didn’t occupy that same space in his heart. “And—so did G’iah.”

Fury turned to him. “Your daughter disappeared? To where?”

“She was young. Angry that our people still don’t have a home.” G’iah was the one person he loved more than Fury, and Talos didn’t hesitate to defend her to him, even though he was utterly disappointed in her decisions. But like he said, G’iah wasn’t evil. A lot of rebel Skrulls weren’t. Just angry.

“Many of them were upset. I got kicked off the Council, pushed into exile, but Gravik—Gravik, mate, he took your abandonment—” Talos couldn’t quite look Fury in the eyes where he said that word—“that much harder.”

When they went back downstairs so Maria Hill could brief Fury on the rebel Skrulls, Talos tried not to read too much into it that Fury sat next to her, on the complete opposite end of the table from himself. She was, after all, the closest friend Fury had.

He also hated that, as the only Skrull at the table, it was his job to break the news to Fury just how precarious the Gravik situation was. “We brought you here for a reason,” he said. A far heftier one than my broken heart, he reminded himself, realizing that it was probably about to get a lot more cracked. “If he succeeds…your species will cease to exist.”

Fury stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back from the table. “Shit,” he muttered. “I’m going for a walk.”

“You’re going for a walk—in Moscow, at night?—You’re gonna stand out.” Even if he couldn’t meet Fury’s gaze, Talos couldn’t resist the urge to warn him off from getting hurt.

And then just like that he was gone.

Talos stared at Maria across the table. He didn’t care that his expression was probably giving away how he was feeling—he wasn’t even sure what label to put on it, so why should he bother to hide it?

“He loves you, you know,” she said, after a drawn-out moment of silence. “When I told him I was calling at your request…well, his tone changed awful quickly.”

That was the call where not only had Fury been summoned back to Earth, he had also learned of Soren’s death. Talos had insisted Maria tell him; the wound was too fresh, and he hadn’t wanted the first time he saw Nick after all those years to be a moment for breaking bad news.

“I’m not so sure,” Talos answered. He got up to look through the fridge—he didn’t truly like a lot of human food, but there were some fruits that tasted nearly identical to Skrull produce, and he kept a stock of them whenever possible. He pulled out a half-eaten can of lychees and a fork from the silverware drawer. “He left.”

Maria followed him to the kitchen area, leaning against the small counter. “The Blip hurt everyone, Talos. The rest of the world may not think so, but you and I know that he’s only human. He needed the time away.”

“He could have spent it with us.” “Why are you so hung up on that? I know you missed him—”

“Missed him?” Talos shoved the can to the side and turned towards Maria. “If you can say that lungs would ‘miss’ oxygen or that veins would ‘miss’ blood, then yeah. I missed him.” He buried his head in his hands. “It wasn’t just those five years, Maria. For decades I’ve wondered if he loved me, always too afraid to hear that answer was no to even ask, always sure that if he felt so, he would tell me.”

“You could have told him how you felt,” Maria reminded him.

“I could have. And he could have. We wasted all that time and I just—I can’t help but believe that if he had been down here with us, like he should’ve been, maybe he could have done what I couldn’t. Maybe Soren would still be alive.”

He abandoned us, Talos wanted to say. It was what most Skrulls believed about Nick Fury, although Talos could’ve told them they had no idea what it was to be abandoned by him.

Soren had never made a secret of her affection for Fury; all those years locked away from her husband in Mar-Vell’s lab had taught her how precious love was, and how freely it should be expressed. Talos, on the other hand, feared rejection. Loneliness. Ages of being hunted by the Kree, mistrusted and reviled by other species, had taught him that. And yet…with Soren by his side, it was always clear that Fury had a home with them if he wanted it. And Fury had accepted that offer and lived with them from time to time, his nearness and his close relationship with Soren driving Talos mad.

Why did he give up that home when they needed so badly to see him alive and well after his death?

Suddenly Talos remembered something else Soren had said. They had been washing dishes together, while Fury was in the living room admiring some drawings that G’iah had made.

“You’re a stubborn man, Talos. And I love you for it. Anyone else might have given up on finding us again.” She handed him a plate to dry. “But…I wonder what it would take for you to take a leap of faith.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” (He did.)

“Hand him your heart, Talos, and trust him not to break it.”

Soren had been able to do it all that time, and it had never cost her. Yet even now, when he was finally reunited with Fury, Talos had only been able to give him Soren’s love, and not his own.

It was on him as much as it was on Fury that they had never determined what they were to each other. And it was his inability to protect Soren, not Fury’s absence from them, that had cost Soren her life, Talos decided.

When Fury finally returned from his walk (and a kidnapping, Talos was alarmed to hear) he informed them that he had set up a bug in an associate’s house and was expecting to get new intel on Gravik’s plans soon. Maria took charge of setting up their end of the surveillance equipment, and Talos determined to take his chance and do what Soren had advised him to do years ago.

“Fury, can I talk to you for a moment?” he asked. He noticed Maria smirking and wanted to sigh. “It’s….” Not information on which the fate of Earth or Humanity hung, but still….“Important.”

To Talos's surprise, Fury’s irritation with him had entirely dissipated, no doubt in light of the new information they were about to get. They went back up to the roof and stood looking out at the city together, the silence amiable.

Talos reached over and took Fury’s hand. His fingers were cold. “I’ve always loved you,” he said, staring straight ahead. “And I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

Fury smiled. “I had guessed. Figured you would say it when you were ready—didn’t quite expect that to take three decades.” He pulled Talos close and repeated the Skrull forehead touch they had done earlier, their fingers still intertwined. A single tear slipped down Talos’s face. “I love you too.”

[lykegenia]

Happy Valentine’s Day, lovely person 🌹

I love your writing so much (your Nate! And Leah!) and am so happy you’ve started sharing more about Rhi and Mason as well. And whenever you share your thoughts, they are always so well-though out and interesting to read!

Here’s a romance-themed OC question for any OC(s) of your choosing (no pressure to answer on Valentine’s day itself, or at all):

What combination of random objects would your OC use to describe their LI? What do they represent? Bonus question: What would their LI use to describe them?

Dearest Nonny, you have no idea what a delight it was to wake up to this message this morning. Thank you so much for such kind words, it's one of the best feelings to know my characters are loved 🌹

For the OC question...

Objects Leah would use to describe Nate:

A fountain pen, but like, a really fancy one made of tortoiseshell and ebony and gold wire - not only do charming words seem to flow easily from him, but there's a certain elegance in his hands and a lightness of touch that matches the finesse required to use a fountain pen properly (she could never master it). It's also slightly old-fashioned, but there's potential for change as well with special inks or new designs like those glass nibs, which he would probably appreciate even if he was a bit dubious at first.

A cashmere blanket - soft and comforting and cozy (and expensive, because Nate would never compromise on quality). Something that she doesn't necessarily need or was missing before it came into her life, but woe betide you if you try to take it away from her. She's snuggled and comfortable now.

A star chart - not just for his naval background, or his penchant for deep thinking, but because people have always used the stars for guidance. She never really had a direction before UB came into her life, but now she does, and the feeling of looking up into the vastness of the night sky is very reminiscent of the rare mornings where she can wake up before Nate and watch him still sleeping.

Nate for Leah:

A (European) magpie feather - elegant but understated and unassuming, from an intelligent but often overlooked/maligned bird, until you look at it from the right angle and the plain black shimmers into brilliant irridescence. He once listened to her talk for an hour about how structural colours evolved in birds, and wishes she could appreciate that complex beauty in herself.

A lit candle - staring down the darkness of eternity often seemed unbearable at times. There were previous sparks, but nothing to provide the steady light that Leah provides him. The sweet smell of beeswax meant it was used to create church candles in the medieval period, and being close to her certainly feels holy, the flame bright and warm but with a bite if you're not careful. But at the same time, it's precious, because eventually the flame will burn down and go out, and the memory of it will be all that's left.

An arrow - it flies straight and true and pierces its quarry without mercy, and that's what Leah is like in the pursuit of justice. There are also so many stories where arrows are a symbol of devotion, from St Sebastian to Cupid, and he likes the imagery of himself as an Arthurian white stag finally brought down by a strike to the heart.

Bonus Mason and Rhi:

"What the fuck kind of question is that? Rhi's not an object, and if I wanted to describe her, I'd just say she's hot." "Charming." "Don't hear you contradicting me." "Well I know what kind of object you are." "Oh?" "You're one of those metal ring puzzles you get in Christmas crackers that are fun for the first few minutes before everyone gets sick of it." "I like to think it'd take more than a few minutes to get bored of playing with me, Sweetheart." "And you even come with a terrible joke - do not respond to that." "Wouldn't dream of it."

[druckkugelschreiber]

Ok, so hungarian nicknames, I thought to mainly compare the ones I saw in your post. I actually logged in to desktop to write this ask cause formatting kept screwing me up on mobile.

Mein(e) Liebe/Liebste - my love/dear - szerelmem/drágám(kedvesem) (drágám is often used, the others aren't foreign but might get you called cheesy, I personally like kedvesem a lot) 'szerelem' (love) is the base word that turns into 'szerelmem' to signify that you're My love. 'drága' (expensive) turns into 'drágám'. 'Kedves' (nice or kind) is the base word that turns into 'kedvesem'.

Mein Schatz - my precious - drágaságom (used more jokingly, especially if one knows of Gollum) drágám is more like an adjective while 'drágaságom' is the noun version and yes hungarian Gollum says this

Mein(e) Spatz(el)/Taube - my sparrow/dove - verebem/galambom (will get you teased if used very publicly but i think it's cute) 'Veréb' turns into 'verebem' and 'galamb' turns into 'galambom'

Mein Herz - my heart - szívem (very common pet name, szívecském too as a very diminutive form, used more jokingly) 'szív' is the base word, turns into 'szívem'. It's written with a long "í" that is pronounced as a long "í" in szív but is pronounced as a short 'i' in szívem (usually, dialects differ everywhere tho)

Schnucki - cute (cutie?) - cuki (aranyos) I'm pretty sure cuki comes from 'cukor' which means sugar. Aranyos is the less slangy way of saying it but it's not used as a pet name (arany = gold, aranyos could mean cute or endearing or golden, though the golden use of aranyos is old fashioned and not really used)

Hasi - bunny - nyuszi(m) (used frequently) 'Nyúl' is the base word that turns into 'nyuszi' or 'nyuszim'. Nyúl isn't used as a pet name, it's always turned into nyuszi first and maybe nyuszim to signify 'my'.

Kätzchen - kitten - cica (cicám) I put this here cause kitten is so prevelant in fic and i have the great fortune that my mom has called me the equivalent ALL my life and still. So whenever I see it now it gives me the most visceral of icks. (:

The rest of the nicknames don't really have a counterpart but i do wanna ask what "Däubsche" means cause google translate doesn't help.

Well, I hope you'll find this interesting, I went and checked google translate and it pronounces the words quite well if you're wanting to know how they sound like!

Thank you for such a thorough list/ explanation! I need to remember to look the pronounciation up because I am very curious!

Also drágaságom makes me think of dragons 😂 and just based on how I pronounced them in my head I really like aranyos. The word is giving me ✨ vibes ✨

Which brings me to some you mentioned I didn’t.

So I left out the literal translation for cute/ sweet would be Süße/Süßer but that‘s only used when you flirt with people as far as I know and not when you’re longer in a relationship.

Kitten I left out on purpose because I’ve never heard anybody call their significant other that though it could get more prevalent with fanfic but idk. Also something that might be used as flirting or teasing.

I think a lot of people use Baby nowadays, especially millennials and under. My mom uses Schatzi/ Schatz a lot which I’ve also heard with younger people.

Okay for Däubschen: there are some German dialects where certain hard sounds like T and P are turned into softer sounds like D and B as well as ch into sch. „Chen“ as an ending or „schen“ in dialect always makes a word mean the cuter (and usually smaller) version of whatever you have.

Taube -> Täubchen (cute version of dove) and in dialect (don’t ask me which dialect lol) it then would be Däubschen which truly sounds atrocious

Hope this made sense I wrote this after waking up from a nap

[carolinasouldrifter95]

"Why is a woman like you still single after all this time?"

To put into words all the things that are on my heart, is to search through all that life has made me experience. The laughs and the tears. The sleepless nights, both with someone or with just the moon and stars. The questions of faith, love, life and the little nuances in between. Big moments. Little moments.... They all define my innermost being.

They are precious and invaluable, not to be easily bought.

You see, to share these moments gone past, and to add treasure to the trove in my mind, one must put forth effort as well as action. My heart, nor my mind, cannot be purchased with sly words or flashy jewels or flowers. I find romance in the gritty and imperfect. Where others find it flawed, I see the diamond underneath one's "dirt"... And I only hope to find another that can see me in this fashion.

Feed my mind with literature that reminds you of me. Teach me your favorite dances so when it's late at night and the rest of the world is fast asleep, we can start a fire by slow dancing on the kitchen floor. Introduce me to your favorite songs while we watch the sunset make a masterpiece over still waters. Show me where you grew up as a kid, and where your soul changed from a child's to that of a man's. Show me your hideaways, your favorite routes to cruise on Friday nights just because. And if you do whisper me sweet nothing's, don't do so in the vain hope of seducing me. Do so because you find me to be the most beautiful when I'm unkept and not expecting your kind words. The same goes for your touch. I have felt the hardness of a man's hand, so when I do allow you to touch me, do so with the tenderness of that of a Morning Dove's feather, otherwise I will not know your intent.

Understand that I am not perfect, my past has made me anguished and my thoughts at times are dark, so when I overthink or retreat during the good times, I am simply needing your reassurance that what we have is not fleeting. When I let you into my little corner of life by speaking of my dreams, childhood memories or fondness of this week's hobby, please understand that my little tangents aren't in vain, only that I'm wishing for you to listen and become a part of these things, too.

I do not find myself to be a part of this generation that dates out of experimental practice or "fun", but I do not condemn those that do partake. Instead, I date with purpose and this is why I will not settle for mediocre love. I want romance mixed with adventure, I want a lover who can also be my best friend and above all else, be my safe space. So no matter where we are in the world, I am constantly filled with the feeling of being home just by looking in your eyes.

I'm not a girl who simply wishes for flowers, but for a man to plant a garden in my heart, so whenever I miss him, I can immerse myself in the year-round blooms he's sprouted for me.

I don't just wish for a mere boyfriend, but for a partner that I can come running to to share exciting news, sad news, advice or just to catch me on the brink of falling. I want a man who is strong enough to protect our home and family with his mere presence, but soft enough to shower me with tenderness as we raise our children with the same love The Father shows us everyday. A man who is confident in his place in the world, but is humble enough to know he will always be learning things until his soul leaves this realm. He will be the leader of our home, but he will love and respect me enough to see my role as equally important as his. We'll make decisions together as well as make a few mistakes along the way, but no matter what, we'll always remind each other that it's 'Us against the world' and not 'Us against each other'. Our relationship will be stronger than iron ore or titanium, and when life tries to throw us off its rails, we'll simply look at each other, take a breath and go into it holding hands and head first...

Now, to answer this old-as-time question:

If a man is not willing to make these simple things a reality for us, then what point is there to stoke an already dwindling ember?