#thanks to however made a great post which included this

[lieut-john-irving]

Part 1 of Kingston's correspondence to Malcolm about Irving — A letter dated December 12th 1836 with concerns about John's wellbeing.

Through Kingston’s letters, there is such valuable and intimate insight into John's friendships, character, and how all of these people that made an appearance in John's letters interacted with each other outside of them. I find it truly touching - and often tragic - that George and William would regularly talk about John in their own personal letters, asking how he is or if the other has heard from him. They all appear to have cared for and worried about each other a great deal, and this letter is a perfect example of that.

To start, I'd like to express how thankful I am for the help of @parhelios in transcribing some details I could not! They have also posted a wonderful analytical interpretation of the letter that you can find at the end of this post!

Transcription (to the best of our abilities - feel free to comment suggestions for unknown words and clunky sentences), context, and photos under the cut:

[…] I am sorry to say I cannot answer your enquiries respecting Irving insomuch as I have not seen him since we parted at Vourla, nor have I had a letter from him since he left [the harbour/that island] to go home until the other day when I received a [hasty note] merely apologising for his negligence in not writing before and a brief account of what he was employing himself. Painful it must be to judge or cast a suspicion upon one who has always held so high a place in my estimation as John Irving. Yet nevertheless I fear he never seemed to (be) fully aware of the difficulties the Christian has to contend with both from the world without and his own corruptions within, nor did he seem fully to appreciate the necessity of constant watchfulness prayer and self [ever insinuation/association?]. The sight of Redeeming Love imparted to him at first and the consequent captivity of his affections and desires as to the will of God were so strong that he hence inferred these desires. This ardent love would now leave him and that nothing more would be required than to go on his way rejoicing. Though we have the promise of [these/him?] who [can/came nor] lie that he will ever leave us nor [forget/follow] us, yet I [striked through: I have suffer] must remember that if we willfully neglect him we may weary out his patience and at last by judicial hardness entirely exculpate the almighty from the charge of leaving us. Past experience, however cheering, can never with safety be looked upon as an [earnest/earmark] of our present [holding] the warfare ceases with death only never may we [relent] our vigilance until [striked through: John’s] in death we gain the [reward]. Irving has met with grievous disappointments in many of his friends and he may have hence [had/since] [recovered/reconciled/returned] to the natural [recount] of disappointments - a distress of everyone that has not by long experience proved his fidelity. I consider this one of his weaknesses which I am in hopes time will crack. His last note not so much as touched on the religious condition of [name?] for who he had for some time entertained hopes. That solicitude for a Friend’s welfare will often entertain doubts and fears without detracting from itself. […]

(I know the letters are weirdly cropped here, but I assure you they're in the correct order. I cropped it since the rest of the letter is not about John):

Source: Acc.6684/15 National Library of Scotland

For the context of John’s mindset here - and why Kingston and Malcolm are concerned about him - this letter is dated between his own letters of November 4th 1836 (Malta) and January 17th 1837 (Portsmouth), where John expresses his deep loneliness ('I want you and Kingston sadly'), bad-habits, and boredom at sea, with his main hopes focused on visiting Malcolm at Cambridge and reminiscing the happiness of their friendship trio (the famous back-ride on the beach included). As always, Bell's book of John’s already published letters can be found either on the Internet Archive or the Arctonauts' blogpage for free.

Please feel free to figure out the missing words or suggest better ones in the transcription! Kingston's handwriting is usually quite easy to read but this letter is pretty tricky! AND if you have your own interpretations I'd love to hear about them, feel free to share those too!

@parhelios' interpretation analysis:

And lastly, I found that Bell omitted part of John's November 4th letter. I will get that uploaded and transcribed as soon as possible, and perhaps it will provide more context for this letter in turn too.

Thank you for reading!

[letusberandom]

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[444venicebitch444]

Something something TF 141 gets a new secretary because their old one decided to finally retire, and you show up.

A sweet little thing, no military experience, all shy smiles and nervous chuckles, punctual and neat.

You take care of their paperwork, their mail, schedule their meeting, bring them coffee, and most importantly it’s not half bad to have a good set of legs and a pretty face to look at.

Price was a right gentleman, a nicer boss than you could’ve ever expected from a military man, and Soap and Gaz really had your confidence going whenever they made their flirtatious quips (which was everyday, really).

Ghost, though? Ghost was exactly what you’d expected after hearing the stories: a stoic, intimidating man who spoke in grunts and monosyllables, and who was, in your opinion, quite rude.

Did the man have no manners? Had his mother not taught him to say ‘thank you’?

You tried making an extra effort with him, your need to be liked overpowering your annoyance towards the lieutenant, because you intended to keep this job; the pay was great, it was a short drive from your apartment and you weren’t going to let a guy who wore a bloody skull balaclava everyday ruin this for you.

So you smiled more, made your good mornings and good afternoons sweeter, same as the tea you’d leave on his desk everyday at 4 pm sharp, and the little squiggly hearts you’d draw on the post it notes on top of his files. 

And when Simon’s grunts started mutating into full fledged sentences, and he actually told you a joke, you found yourself grinning, more out of self satisfaction than because of whatever ridiculous pun he’d said in that deep, rumbling voice of his.

For you, it was over, your plan had worked, and now all your bosses liked you, getting rid of that lingering uneasiness in the back of your head. 

For Simon, on the other hand? You’d unlocked Pandora's box, if said box contained the lieutenant’s affection (obsession) for you.

It was true, he hadn’t liked you at first: you disrupted the routine, the practised flow of the office, and gave Johnny and Kyle an excuse to be fucking insufferable in their working space instead of only in the shitty pubs where they’d drag him after shifts. He was going to lose his fucking mind if he had to hear another “can’t walk into the office looking that good, darlin’. won’t let me get anything done”.

The worst part was that they weren’t wrong; you were pretty and Simon couldn’t deny that. I mean, what did anyone expect, for him to not shoot a look at your arse in those tight trousers? He was but a man.

But when you started your little routine, it sent him down a spiral. What the fuck was your problem? Why would you draw a bloody heart next to the note that reminded him about his debrief? 

What you hadn’t understood, though, was that with a man like Simon Riley, that wasn’t just being nice, it wasn’t getting him to like you. it was an enablement of his ugly heart, something that fed the flames of his desires, because why else would be making him tea? that was practically a wedding vow, love. 

So he decided that you were his, that he didn’t need to discuss it with you because you already worried your pretty, little head too much with work and what future husband would he be if he didn’t try to make your life easier?

That included tellin Kyle to fuck off when he flirted with you, giving you a lift when your car broke down (which had absolutely nothing to do with simon messing with its battery), and helping you find your cat when it ran away (the fucking thing had scratched the hell out him when he’d taken it to that alleyway). 

The most important part of his duties, however, was watching you, making sure you were safe. Because who was gonna do it if not him? certainly not your, in his assessment, untrustworthy friends.

And your locks were so easy to pick, it had only taken him one try.

So Simon watched as you read a book and bought the same the very next day, he watched you prepare meal after meal with the nutritional value of a brick and made a mental note to make you something healthy when he’d finally cook for you, and he watched as you came out of the shower, completely enthralled.

Unfortunately, he had no way of looking into your bathroom but you’d walk into your room wrapped only in a towel so he wasn’t going to be too picky. Especially not when he got to see you rub that vanilla scented lotion that drove him insane into your soft skin, or drop the fluffy towel to the ground only to cover the delicate swell of your breasts with your pyjama top.

His favourite part, however, was without doubt when you’d lie against your pillows, your fingers dipping below your waistband. His sweet bird, not so innocent after all. 

His body would burn as he watched, his hands aching to replace your fingers, his tongue wetting his lips because it couldn’t touch yours.

He held onto every tiny gasp, every quiet whine, knowing that he’d make you sound so much better.

But he was patient and he was going to do things properly, take his time: take you to dinner, buy you gifts, eventually give you the ring he’d already bought. He wasn’t a total wanker, lovie.

So for now he was going to be satisfied with watching you and stealing your panties, offering a gruff “morning, sweetheart” the next day.

[meadowfics]

boredom got a new bestfriend

kang dae-ho x pregnant!reader

pregnancy has been exhausting, but luckily your partner is here for you.

warnings: post-squid game au. ptsd themes included but this is mainly comfort I swear

it felt like you were feeling postpartum depression before you even gave birth to the baby.

your daughter is the best thing to be happening for you right now, a human-being sharing the dna of you and your sunshine of a husband.. but you hate the discomfort.

your belly is a little bit bigger for someone who is 34 weeks along.

the doctor predicts that your girl will come out a little bit more developed than the average infant.. great.

growing up for all of your life, you slept on your stomach.

sleeping on your side and/or back during this pregnancy makes you wake up each hour, ready to throw up or cramped due to the uncomfortable position.

the lack of sleep has been killing you, and you know it will not get any better once the girl arrives.

don't worry, dae-ho has been the best partner ever, doing as much as he can to help you!

he doesn't know how it feels to carry a baby for nine months, especially a baby thats in a bigger percentile (thanks to his genetics), but he can see how much its affecting you mentally.

the man will cuddle you to sleep, give you foot massages, head massages too.. but it seems like his daughter wants to give you hell.

you're bored throughout the day as well.

its all of the time.

before your pregnancy, you used to go on walks and do chores and run errands for other people for money.

well, you had to before you joined the games.

the games are apart of the reason as to why you barely get any sleep, scared that you will wake up to someone killing you with a fork to add money to the pile.

however, you remind yourself that you are safe.

the baby is safe, you are with dae-ho, and you're all alive and safe.

even if you aren't comfortable due to your belly..

now, you cannot do a simple task like going to the grocery store without getting tired.

you've had enough, you cannot wait for the six weeks until your daughter is born.

one night, it reached its point when you went to sleep beside dae-ho.

the man's arm was wrapped around your fully developed belly, he loved to hold his daughter that you carried.

you laid on your back, your head laid down on the pillow looking up at the ceiling.

it was 12:02am when you fell asleep.

a big kick caused by your daughter made you jump awake.

dae-ho didn't wake up after you moved his arm from your stomach.

thankfully since you want him to get his sleep at least.

when you checked the time, tears immediately poured out of your eyes.

its 12:12am..

you couldn't even get ten minutes of good sleep without your body, or your daughter, stopping that.

walking out of the bedroom into the living room, you decided to turn on an old sitcom rerun that played on the overnight channels.

that did not entertain you.. nothing seemed to.

you tried to romanticize the moment, going to quickly grab some water and a fruit bowl so you could eat and relax.. but nothing worked.

sleeping was the best option, but waking up every ten minutes is driving you insane.. so why sleep at all?

"baby?"

you saw dae-ho enter the living room, wiping his tried eyes with his hands.

he is just wearing his plaid pajamas and no shirt. sexy.

sex could help the boredom, since intimacy with dae-ho is never boring, but you were too exhausted to even move at all.

"why are you awake?"

you softly ask, unaware that he could ask you the same thing.

which he is..

"I was going to ask you the same thing, since you're watching a sitcom marathon at one in the morning.."

dae ho mumbles, his big hand resting on your thigh as he looks ahead at the show on the television.

"your daughter is not letting me sleep, so I figured that watching television could pass time.. but that is not helping."

you frown.

dae-ho frowns too, moving his hand from your thigh and gently rubbing your belly.

he moves his head down towards your belly as well, going to talk to your daughter through your nightgown.

"awh, sweetheart, why are you being so mean to your mommy?"

you smile at this gesture, knowing your daughter will go right back to kicking your organs all over the place.

"I can't sleep and I am very bored.. I don't know how I am going to last these six weeks, dae."

you plead.

the man looks up at you, guilt in his eyes, as he tried to think of a solution.

"well, I can offer besides cuddles and physical affection to help you sleep comfortably.. but maybe I could stay up with you so you are not so bored as well?"

the tired man speaks through his raspy voice.

"no, dae-ho, you need your sleep."

"you need it a lot more than I do.."

dae-ho smiles,

"you will need to gain enough energy when its time to push next month!"

he's right.

how were you supposed to birth your daughter if you were too tired to push?

the man sees worry flash before your eyes and retracts his words,

"wait I was kidding, I--"

"dae-ho, I know, don't worry!"

you giggle.

you relax into your man's arms while watching the boring show on the television.

it feels like your daughter stopped her soccer/football game happening inside of your uterus.

so you close your eyes to see if your mind will take you to sleep.

you focus on dae-ho's scent since your nose is against his chest.

the first thing you notice is that dae-ho used your body wash while he showered at some point.. your vanilla body wash.. wow!

suddenly, you couldn't process anything else as you fell asleep with dae-ho.. since he already fell asleep before you.

when you wake up, the sun is shining through the curtains and you were back in your bed.

you were... comfortable.. woah.

something you haven't felt since before your belly starting growing with your baby.

the soft ivory blanket was warm against your cool skin, the pillow soft underneath your ears.

dae-ho is still asleep, his back facing towards you.

you move yourself to get behind him, big spooning him as your belly pokes his lower back.

"goodmornin', my baby."

dae-ho's raspy voice speaks, taking your small hand and kissing your knuckle lightly.

"good morning, handsome."

you smile, feeling refreshed.

looking over at the alarm clock, the time reads 10:38am

taking a huge sigh of relief, you cuddled into dae-ho more, happy to finally get some good rest after months of failure.

"how did you sleep?"

dae-ho mumbles against your soft hands.

"I slept good, for once."

you giggle.

"see, I knew my little talk to (daughter's name) would work!"

dae-ho smiles and you giggle.

"thank you, love."

masterlist

[ambermotta]

6 Types of Protection Magick

There are many ways one can do protective magick. In this post I'll be going into 6 of the most common and accessible ones!

Please understand that even one "protection magick type" can be done in an infinity of ways, some of which are closed to certain practices.

Disclaimer: based on my experience and research. I don't claim to know all truth. Further study is encouraged!

_________________♡♤◇♧_________________

#1 — Magic circle

The magic circle consists of creating a protection and delimiting a sacred space for magic and/or ritual.

The magic circle is probably one of the most popular protection methods thanks to its encouraged use in Wicca. However, other traditions have made use of similar concepts, such as in the afro-brazillian Umbanda concept of "chain".

The circle can be physically drawn on the ground, delimited by the members inside the circle, or visualized.

Casting one is fairly simple since it can be done in different ways, either in groups or solitary practice. You can use tools such as wands, chalk or physical objects to draw it, but what matters most is intention and successful visualization.

Before casting a circle it's important to have everything you will need already within grasp and inside the circle, since once created it is advisable that no one leaves it until the work is complete.

#2 — Amulets, and Enchanted Items

Enchanted Items are a very popular and effective form of magic, especially for personal use. These are often common objects that have been enchanted for protection.

They are often necklaces, rings and other jewelry since these are the most practical to carry around without suspicion. However, they can be any object.

Amulets can be created via enchanting, charms, or by asking deities and spirits to bless them with protective qualities.

The material and imagery used to create the talisman is also important in determining the kind of job it wants to do.

#3 — Sigils and other drawn Symbols

Sigils and Symbols can be used both for personal protection and for warding spaces. Here I am also including Runes.

They can be carved into objects, drawn upon skin and surfaces, or even tattooed.

However, before using any sigil, symbol or rune it is of extreme importance that you know exactly what they do, and know as much about them as possible. Especially if you plan on drawing them on your skin (either temporarily or permanently).

Unless specifically used only for protection purposes, inadequate use of them can lead to disaster. Even then, the type of protection they bring can vary.

For example, a protection sigil that works by hiding you from threats is different from a sigil that fights threats that come to you. It's important to set or to know how their protection work so that you do not come across unwanted results.

#4 — Prayer

My definition of praying: focusing on sending a message to a higher spiritual power, be it an entity, deity or energy.

Prayers are a great way of manifesting protection, though since you are asking for it to a higher power you must understand that it may choose to not grant it, or not grant it in the way you expect.

Plus, it is very important to know where you stand with this energy or entity. Do you work with them already? For how long? What is the nature of the relationship? Do you truly know them well enough to ask them for this? Is it really appropriate?

Cultivating a good relationship and having manners can be decisive factors for manifesting this sort of protection. Plus, it's always good to "give back" in some way. To receive something, something must be given eventually.

#5 — Affirmations and Visualizations

Words and the mind have innate power. Affirmations and visualizations are great ways to manifest protections because they rely only on yourself.

They are easier to do right if you use them together with other methods, or if you have physical representations of the work being done. To be successful one must focus, "feel" them happening, and maintaining that without help can be difficult. Frequent practice will help you get the hang of it.

There are also techniques that make affirmations and visualizations both more powerful and easier to accomplish.

#6 — Warding

Warding is when you set up a semi-permanent protection in a specific place, such as your house.

It can be done in many different ways. One of the most common is to have an object or place designated as the "holder" of the ward, which should be well kept.

Warding will be more powerful if you are frequently cleansing the space and recharging the ward. Leaving it alone for too long can weaken in or make it lose its properties altogether.

Some plants are used for this kind of protection, since they (usually) stay in place, can be powerful magical allies, and you'll be checking on them often anyway. The ones usued are often those with thorns, threatening-looking leaves, or even poison.

Note: always be very careful about bringing poisonous plants home, especially if you have children or pets.

Conclusion

This was an overview of the most common types of protective magick. A lot of protection spells and works fall somewhere within these categories, or are a combination of them.

Each tradition has a certain way of going about spiritual protection, so if you are exploring an specific path, I encourage you to not only research about protection in general but to also look into what unique techniques your path has to offer!

Many blessings and thank you for reading! ♡

[zeropro]

How long have they been away from Cybertron, and is the planet alright or a hustle world?

I think at some point I'm gonna make a post with all my AU content in chronological order, but for now you can just have my notes on the timeline.

(check tags for the tldr on the ask)

Here’s the current timeline so far…

Long ass time ago BCE

The first Cybertronian Golden Age

Luna 1 disappears

Paradise era, Knights of Cybertron leave

Cybertronian Dark Age (The Age of Barbarism)

Rise of the thirteen

Cyberutopia is created somewhere

Onyx Prime (who is NOT Shockwave in this AU) attempts a colonialism

The Dead Universe and Unicron are created

Caminus, Velocitron, and other planets are colonized by Titans

Megatrous kills Solus Prime with the Star Saber

First civil war

During experimentation into gestalt technology, five beastformers are made into the first successful Combiner team: the Predacons

After the war, Nova Prime ushers in the Second Golden Age and resets the calendar

5.7 million BCE

“Functionist sentiment becomes an institution of society overseen by the Functionist Council, with robots expected to stick to a single job determined by their alt modes.” -tfwiki

Nova Prime enacts “The Expansion,” for which the first wave of cold constructed Cybertronians are brought online

Megatron (1st cycle 012) and Orion Pax are born under Functionalism. Megatron is one of the first cold constructed mechs.

The Constructicons are created

Nova Prime disappears into the dead universe and Nominus Prime takes leadership under a new corrupt senate. Expansion is put on hold

Megatron works as a miner in Tarn (demolition=menial labor class) Megs wanted to be a medic but quickly gives up on that dream

Orion Pax works as a dock worker in Iacon (truck=transport class) OP wanted to be an archivist and is able to work his way up to it due to having access to greater social mobility

Cybertron experiences no shortage of violence: civil wars, riots, off-world campaigns, and alien invasions continue to happen sporadically throughout its history. Wanting to bolster Cybertron’s airforce, a new style of war-frame is designed and mass produced. These cold constructed jets received the classification: Seekers (after their intended function: seek and destroy)

Skywarp is born (6th cycle 023) as a first generation Seeker and was immediately sent to the military. He is then at some point reassigned to spec ops due to his powerful outlier ability.

Seekers offline too easily so the next few waves of Seekers are sent to the Cybertronian War Academy for training before joining the military

Skywarp is sent to Praxus and subjected to intensive study. Space bridge and quantum based hyper-drive technology will later see great advancements thanks to his contributions to science

Thundercracker is brought online as one of the last batch of Seekers (24th cycle 124). By then the Cybertronian War Academy roster was too full so he was given the (limited) option to pick his vocation. He chose to work as a courier in Vos.

“Those who were constructed cold face institutionalized apartheid; although this eventually ends due to mounting public pressure, including mass protests and marches. However, intrinsic prejudice against constructed cold Transformers persists in among a sizable percentage of the population.” -tfwiki

Megatron and pax become friends while advocating against cold construct apartheid and functionalism. Pax considered Megatron like a brother to him but Megatron always felt distanced by their class divide

Scientists have been pulling sparks out of the Matrix faster than frames can be constructed for them. Sparks without ready frames will be “frozen” for future use

The Matrix "runs dry" (is replaced by a fake) and cold construction as a common method of creation stops entirely

The Senate’s evil science division, the Institute, establishes Shadowplay and Empurata as common practices

The energy crisis forces a planet-wide rationing of resources

Cryak commissions a Seeker frame to be constructed and has a thawed spark placed in it. Starscream is born (22nd cycle 415).

5 million BCE

Starscream escapes

Thundercracker finds Starscream

4.5 million BCE

Due to the energy crisis, tension is high between city-states. The Senate establish the sport of Gladiatorial games to try and mitigate the animosity. These games are held in Kaon and become very popular

Starscream defies Functionalism by pursuing many different jobs. Whenever he would get in trouble or fall on hard times he’d turn to Thundercracker for help

Orion Pax encourages Megatron to publish his political writings

Orion Pax joins the police force

The first appearance of the pacifist grassroots movement calling themselves Decepticons. Their ideology is based on Megatron’s first published treatise

Megatron is caught in a bar fight and is wrongfully arrested. Whirl beats him up in jail, changing Megatron’s perspective on violence

Megatron loses his job due to automation and signs up to be a gladiator

Starscream goes to college (not really, I just like to call the period of time where he went to work as a Scientist in Iacon "college" cuz it's funny XD) and meets Skyfire. The two become close

Senator Protius promises to make the Decepticons a real political party by way of census. In truth he just wanted a list of names so they can shadowplay all the Decepticons. Skyfire almost signs on but Starscream convinces him not to

Megatron continues to publish his writings while gaining fame as a gladiator. The Decepticon movement takes a shift from pacifism towards terrorism

Skywarp likes watching the gladiator fights whenever they are assigned to patrol the events  

The gladiator Ravage finds a discarded Soundwave struggling to deal with his telepathic powers and takes him under his wing

Skywarp plays a prank on the government

Starscream and Skyfire go off-world on an expedition, intending to travel to the Sol system and back (they're gone for about 40 turns on the Cybertronian calendar, or approximately 50,000 Earth years)

The Senate discover Nominus’ matrix is a fake and have him secretly killed

The Senate enacts the Clampdown

Thundercracker loses his job and is forced to join the military

4.3 million BCE

Senator Shockwave gets shadowplayed

Sentinel Prime takes leadership

The Decepticons begin secretly forming an army under Megatron

Orion Pax and Megatron break up

Starscream returns to Cybertron without Skyfire and is subsequently tried for Skyfire’s murder, for which he was found innocent. He is still expelled from the Academy

Starscream goes back to Vos, and crashes on Thundercracker's couch for a while

Thundercracker takes Starscream to watch a gladiator fight, which is where Starscream takes note of Megatron

Despite his reservations, Starscream joins the military in order to learn how to fight as well as gain rapport with the military Seekers

While stealing a military airship, Megatron finds Skywarp locked up in the ship's engine room and rescues him. Skywarp joins the Decepticons

Tension between Vos and Tarn is at an all time high, leading to outright civil war between the two city-states

4 million BCE

The Bombing of Vos ends the civil war

Megatron shows up to recruit Decepticons in the aftermath of the Vos-Tarn civil war. Starscream stands up and gives a speech that convinces the majority of Vos' Seeker population to join the Decepticons

Starscream joins the Decepticons

Starscream uses Skywarp to get close to Megatron

The Decepticons threaten war by launching an attack on Iacon. Starscream leads the group that levels the Academy to the ground. He doesn't feel better.

Thundercracker is deployed to help quell the Decepticon activity in Iacon. Thundercracker confronts Starscream and Starscream begs him for help. Thundercracker joins the Decepticons

Megatron is captured and almost gets shadowplayed, but escapes thanks to Starscream, Skywarp, and Soundwave

Megatron no longer thinks the current system can be changed, even with violence. Now his aim is to burn it all down and rebuild from scratch.

Starscream and Soundwave massacre the entire Senate 

Shockwave joins the Decepticons

Megatron officially declares war

Megatron defeats Sentinel Prime and Zeta Prime takes leadership

The Fall of the First Five Cities

Zeta Prime attempts a war crime, Orion Pax and Megatron team up to stop him, and then Megatron betrays Orion and leaves him to die

Orion Pax becomes Optimus Prime

The Battle of Sherma Bridge, where Optimus Prime and Megatron first clash (allegedly)

Praxus falls

Starscream becomes Air Commander. He appoints Thundercracker and Skywarp as his Wing Second and Third. The Trine is complete

Decepticons pull ahead and as a last ditch effort the Autobots thaw previously frozen sparks to construct a new army of MTOs

War happens

The Trine grow close

Megatron gets worse

3 million BCE

War continues to happen

Megatron at this point has tunnel visioned into wanting only one thing: defeating Optimus Prime

Megatron and Prime get into giant hamster balls and play WOW for several vorn. Starscream is mad about it

Starscream starts trying to take over the Decepticons and Megatron physically punishes him for it.

While on a mission, Thundercracker meets Bumblebee briefly

Skywarp accidentally sacrifices himself to protect Starscream, almost dying. Starscream is devastated to find he actually cares about this idiot

1 million BCE

The Autobots (aboard the Ark) and the Decepticons (aboard the Nemesis) leave Cybertron in search of resources

They crash on prehistoric Earth and remain in stasis for one million years

The war continues on Cybertron, lead by Shockwave and Elita1

0.9 million BCE

The Decepticons overthrow Shockwave and he flees to Luna 2

Hot Rod gathers a rag tag crew and leaves Cybertron on the Lost Light in search of Optimus Prime

The Lost Light discovers the Dead Universe and Nova Prime

Cyclonus joins the Lost Light crew

0.7 million BCE

Shockwave clones Sunstorm

The Great Shutdown: Cybertron completely runs out of energy and everyone falls into stasis

The Lost Light return to Cybertron. Upon finding everyone in stasis, they venture back into space to find a solution

1984

Reawakened on Earth, the Autobots continue to wage their battle to destroy the evil forces of the Decepticons

The Decepticons rebuild the Nemisis into the Victory and try to head back to Cybertron, but they crash into the ocean after Autobot interference

Megatron orders Shockwave to build him a space bridge while he collects energy on Earth to revive Cybertron

Megatron begins abusing Starscream

Typical G1 Cartoon shenanigans occur

Wheeljack builds the Dinobots

The Decepticons find Skyfire in the ice. Starscream tries to get Skyfire to join the Decepticons, but Skyfire refuses when Starscream proves willing to harm humans

Starscream starts to have nightmares. He stops sleeping well

1991

Shockwave completes his space bridge and visits Earth, only to find Megatron has completely lost the plot. After serving on Earth for a few years he goes back to Luna 2 with the intent on finishing his doomsday device, only to find Sunstorm has escaped. He begins migrating his lab to the Decepticon's ocean base on Earth in order to finish his work there.

Megatron obtains frozen sparks from Cybertron and builds the Stunticons. The Autobots rescue half the sparks he had brought over and create the Aerialbots

Starscream's plots to overthrow Megatron are becoming more and more unhinged. At some point he goes to Cybertron and steals some incarcerated memory components and builds the Combaticons, effectively freeing these criminals (including Swindle) from jail

Hot Rod and the Lost Light crew arrive on Earth

2008

Megatron goes too far

Thundercracker defects

2009

After the Decepticons destroyed several human cities, the Autobots finally defeat Megatron with the help of their human allies at the Battle of New York

Seeing that Megatron has fallen, Starscream declares himself the new leader, but Soundwave rescues Megatron's mostly dead body and convinces Shockwave to try and fix him

Optimus Prime dies of his injuries and Bumblebee becomes leader

Hot Rod, now going by Rodimus, leaves Earth on the Lost Light

2010

The humans are justifiably angry with the Cybertronians for destroying their world. Unable to leave the planet, the remaining Decepticons either get captured or go into hiding. 

Thundercracker watches a lot of TV and is now friends with Bumblebee

The Autobots are helping capture Decepticons on Earth

Starscream struggles to lead the Decepticons

2011

Sunstorm arrives on Earth

Starscream frees the Decepticons from human containment, but they still wont follow him

2012

The humans have rebuilt the cities that were destroyed by the Decepticons three years ago

Everyone basically living as tho the war is over

Megatron is brought back by Shockwave and immediately goes to punish Starscream for doing a poor job leading the Decepticons, even tho Starscream did his best.

Skywarp's loyalty to Megatron finally breaks apart, and he gets them out of there before Megatron turns violent, effectively defecting from the Decepticons

Starscream tries to apologize to Thundercracker in order to get his help with fighting Megatron, but Thundercracker turns him down. Starscream shoots Thundercracker in the back, much to Skywarp’s dismay

Starscream and Skywarp hide out on Earth for a bit

Megatron is trying to gather his scattered forces, specifically the combiners

Starscream and Skywarp have an argument and part ways for a bit

Starscream comes across some Decepticon activity and attacks them

Megatron shows up and begins beating Starscream to a pulp

Skywarp jumps in to save Starscream but is shot mid-warp and his warp drive destabilizes

With no other option, Starscream turns to the Autobots for help, with Skywarp in tow

Thundercracker gets a dog

And that's where we are now! Thanks so much for reading!

The current plan going forward is as follows:

1 year later (2013): Combiner Wars, which leads directly into Dark Cybertron [feat. Sunstorm] followed by the Presidential Arc, which lasts about 3-5 years ending in the Apology Comic

[sanguinesky-if]

[Dev Log] April 2025

Hello, I hope your spring days are going well and that you're doing great!

As for my progress, here's a quick overview of my activity over the past month and my plans for the current one.

What was done last month?

▹ Chapter 3 Pt. 2: finished working on opening scene and K's scene.

The work is well underway, though I'm doing my best to catch up with the plan I originally set, as some of my health issues have slightly delayed my progress.

That's why I'm still working on finishing L's scene, which I was supposed to complete before the start of April.

However, I'm already planning to post sneak peeks of the finished scenes [including L's scene] on Patreon next week.

What will I be working on in April?

▹ Chapter 3 Pt. 2: outlining and coding the ROs' scenes [Morgan's, R's and I's scene] [after L's scene is done].

In addition to that, the bonus content on Patreon that will be released this month will include:

▹ Morgan's Short Story. ▹ L's POV [Chapter 3 Pt. 1].

Author's Note.

At the moment, almost all my energy is going into finishing the update, and I apologize for my slow responses to your asks and messages.

I've also received several extensive error reports that made me aware of many grammatical mistakes in the demo. However, I'm not fixing them right now because:

▹ I'm currently very busy with Chapter 3 Pt. 2. ▹ Uploading a quick fix would break your saves, as CoGdemos currently doesn't handle the upload of the files the same way DashingDon did [forcing the reader to start from the beginning of the game instead of from the specific scene that was updated].

Still, I want to once again say thank you to those who sent me the reports [you are the best!], and to say that I'm truly grateful all of you are reading the demo despite the most hilarious and embarrassing errors I've made.

Thank you for reading to the end! Wishing you a wonderful week and days after that! ♥

[lavenders-and-carnations-zine]

Welcome to Lavender's and Carnation's, an MCYT Pride Month Zine!

This is a zine dedicated to and honoring the queer CC's who have made an impact on this fandom and their fans! It'll feature art, fanfic, and stories about how openly queer CC's have helped people accept/become more comfortable in their identities! (Which, by the way- you don't have to be signed up for the zine to share your story! Anyone can submit one!)

So, how exactly is this zine going to work?

Lavender and Carnation's will feature art and writing like most zines, but it has a special addition to the usual- you can submit your own stories without having to be an official contributor!

Have a CC who helped you become more comfortable with your identity? A CC's character who's impacted you via their story, or has helped you through a rough time in your life? Share your story (anon or not) and you can have it featured in the zine, interspersed with art of that CC's characters and stories!

Okay, this sounds awesome! But wait, how do I apply? What's the criteria for a CC getting nominated for this event? What's the schedule?

Great questions! Here's a basic run-down of the event (along with links to fully explain it)

Applications

There are four roles you can apply for within this event;

Mod

Mod's will help manage the discord server, answer questions, and offer any assistance you may need while creating your piece!

Cover Artist

Cover artists will either be able to apply for the zine cover (which will be a full page spread all the CC's featured in the zine), or as a CC cover artist (which will be a full page spread of all of a CC's character's/relevant side characters)

The applications are open for two zine cover artists, and one artist per however many CC's end up in the zine.

Artist

Non-cover artists will be creating half/quarter page illustrations to be featured along side submitted stories! These drawings can feature the CC themself, a character they portray (alone or with friends!)

If applicable, they can also apply to do a full page drawing of a canon queer relationship with a CC's character in it. (This will only include relationships that are explicitly stated to be romantic/queerplatonic. Examples of this are Milo and Scott from Witchcraft SMP and Aismey and Guqqie from Area Unknown.)

Writer

Writer's can apply to create a piece of writing exploring/featuring a canonical queer character’s identity/relationships. This can feature headcanons for other characters, but please avoid gender-bending for ships (ie, making a M/F ship M/M or a F/F ship M/M!) or changing the canon identity of the CC’s character!

(More information for contributors and mods)

CC Nominations

CC's are nominated based on what the community wants! A Google form with be posted on January 25th where you can nominate your favourite CC's to be featured in this zine. If your CC gets 10 nominations, they'll be considered for the zine!

After that, if enough people sign on to create for your CC, they'll be featured on the zine!

(CC Nomination Requirements)

Event Schedule

The event officially begins on January 12th with an interest check!

CC Nominations and Mod applications open on January 25th and end on February 5th.

The discord server opens on February 8th, followed by Contributor applications opening on February 10th and closing on February 23rd.

Story submissions will be open from February 10th till March 10th!

(How do I submit my personal stories?)

(Official event schedule)

If you've made it this far, please reblog this post so that people who would be interested are able to see it! Thank you for your time, and I'm really excited to see this zine through!

[notjustjavierpena]

Te Quiero, a Husband!Javier Valentine’s Special

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This is for all my readers who have wanted to get an insight into Hubby and Wife’s dynamic, backstory and family life. I hope you enjoy it because I put my heart into this mess of a fic. Thank you @strang3lov3 for always inspiring me, thank you @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for always being a great beta-reader and here’s to @morallyinept who told me to tag her in any V-Day fic I post!l

Summary: Your husband has made big plans for Valentine's Day, beginning with breakfast in bed, but not everything goes as smoothly as expected, and suddenly you are faced with a big surprise. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18, hubby!Javier, tooth-rotting domestic bliss, breastfeeding, playful banter, Chucho makes an appearance!!, siblings being siblings, Javi loving you and his kids, negative feelings about your mom-body, insecurity/comfort, spontaneous sex, pussy eating, (Spanish) dirty talk, fingering, unprotected piv sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, silly people in love, LOTS of kisses, lots of i love yous, mention of pregnancy and its symptoms    

Word count: 11.7k (i am so sorry)

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53757202

Te Quiero

You open your eyes, reaching to rub them as the door to the bedroom opens by Javier using his shoulder and backing into it. There’s a crease on his forehead, between his furrowed brows, from looking extremely concentrated because he is carrying a wooden tray in his hands. 

Most days you are a heavy sleeper. It is a result of having two children without an understanding of the concept of privacy when it comes to their parents. However, what truly wakes you up is the concerning rustle of utensils, plates, and mugs that your husband is balancing as he nears your shared bed. 

Because Javier has his back to you, you close your eyes again and pretend to be asleep, not wanting to ruin the surprise. The tray is placed on the foot of the bed, and you fight a smile as you hear his footsteps coming around the end of the bed and closer to your side. 

“Buenos días (good morning),” he whispers to you, and you roll onto your back and sit up. Javier stands by the side of the bed and waits. 

Like in a movie, you blink awake slowly and lift your arms up over your head to stretch and yawn. Javier looks at you expectantly, and you catch a glimpse of why your son resembles him so much. They both have that boyish charm, the ability to look excited in the exact same way when waiting for a reaction from you. 

“What’s all this?” You ask with a grin. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, mi vida (my life),” he says and leans down to initiate a kiss.

“I have bad breath,” you point out.

“I have coffee,” he replies and kisses you anyway, “And today’s crossword puzzle.”

“I knew I married you for a reason,” you scoot to sit back against the headboard. Javier moves to get into bed with you, pulling the covers aside to get under them while you reach for the tray. You place it between the two of you as if you are about to have a picnic in bed. 

“Did you check on Seb?” You ask as you marvel at the breakfast that Javier has put together for the two of you. There are heart-shaped chocolate chip pancakes, an abundance of fresh fruit (including blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, and banana), whipped cream, syrup, and coffee the way you both like it; black without anything more which Javier claims - to this day - is still one of the reasons that he fell for you. 

“Still asleep for now but I suspect he’ll want one of us soon because he can hear us,” he tells you and reaches for his mug after handing you yours. 

“I’ll enjoy this while it lasts then,” you take a sip of coffee, humming at the taste. Then, after putting down your mug, you pop a blueberry into your mouth. 

“I think Lucas has a crush,” Javier tells you in a heartbeat later, smirking into his own cup of coffee. 

You raise a brow in suspicion and surprise, looking at him without turning your head. You swallow down the blueberry and go for the pancakes next, “What makes you say that?”

“Well, he got shy when I asked him if they were making Valentine cards at school today. So I figured something was up because he usually doesn’t get quiet about all those things, you know, he’s touchy-feely,” Javier explains. As he talks, you pour syrup onto the stack of pancakes on your plate, “Inés nearly fell off her chair as she talked about what the school has planned. So yeah, whatever, he’ll tell us if he wants to.”

“Well, perhaps, and hopefully I might add, he’s inherited his dad’s charm as well as his good looks,” you tease, tapping your chin as if you are trying to remember something, “What was it Connie called you? Think it was serial romancer.”

“Hold on, you’ve never told me this,” he pretends to look offended, “When was this?”

“At the bar… just after I laid eyes on you,” you sprinkle fruit on top of your breakfast and wipe your hand on your tank top, “She told me not even to think about it but I knew that I was done for.”

“That damn woman,” he lets out a genuine laugh, “Better tell Steve to keep his lady under control.”

“Connie’s definitely the one keeping her man under control. Just like me,” you smirk, taking a bite that is way too big because your eyes can’t get enough. You groan at the taste. Everything is delicious, so you stuff your mouth and thus don’t have to reply to your husband’s outrage.

“Hey,” he says but you just grin at him, showing off each piece of pancake between your teeth. He sighs but there’s a hint of adoration in his eyes and you know he is fighting a smile, “Charming.”

When you finally swallow, he has dug into his own meal. You eat in silence for a moment, simply enjoying each other’s company as it is undisturbed by children. 

“Don’t you have work today?” You ask eventually. 

“I told them I was coming in later,” he replies, stabbing a strawberry with his fork, “They can survive without me until 10-ish. They’re gonna have to.”

You glance over at the clock on your nightstand. It is 8:16. There’s still time to enjoy each other’s company, maybe even have a cuddle or something more if you aren’t too full from breakfast. 

Javier has opened the paper now but he hasn’t gotten out a pen yet which means that he isn’t starting the puzzle yet. You continue eating, and meanwhile, conversation flows naturally around subjects like work, kids, and sweet memories. 

Suddenly, in the midst of reminiscing about your first trip out of town together, the light on the baby monitor comes on and Sebastian’s distraught, unhappy cries sound through the speaker. Javier puts down the paper and gets up before you. 

“Do you think he’s hungry?” You ask, already moving to pull your top’s straps down to reveal your breasts. 

“I know he is, that’s how he cries when he is,” he moves towards the door, already talking to his son throughout the house, “I’m coming, mijo (my son).”

“You’re so much better at the parent thing than me,” you try to remember which of your breasts you nursed from last night but you cannot, and therefore resort to feeling for the fuller one. 

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” he leans down to kiss your lips before heading down the hall. You listen and wait, hearing Javier coo at his newborn and causing the cries to turn into hiccups instead. 

After a moment, he returns with Sebastian in his arms. You hold out your own and he carefully hands him over to you. With a grin, you settle your baby into your arms, “Hi, sweetheart. Hi there, baby boy, ooo, you’re hungry, aren’t you? Look at that big mouth you’ve got — Honey, can you get me a cloth?”

You don’t look up but hear Javier leave the room again but only briefly. He comes back and gives you a muslin cloth which you throw over your shoulder, a thing that always makes Javier joke about you looking like - and kind of being - a bartender if that bartender only served milk. 

Sebastian quickly latches on. He closes his eyes as he nurses, and you look longingly at your breakfast as he eats his own. You frown, “It’s getting cold. My coffee too.”

“Just sit back,” your husband reassures, shifting on the bed without making the tray tip over. He cuts a piece of pancake and stabs it with his fork, “Open up.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you smile happily but oblige. 

“You’re literally keeping my kid alive, mi amor (my love). The least I can do is keep you alive as well, fuel you up,” he feeds you with his own mouth slightly agape. It makes you laugh. 

“What?” Javier chuckles in his confusion.

“You look like a fish,” you tease as you giggle, letting Sebastian grab at your index finger, “I’ve never noticed if you look like this too when feeding the kids.”

“Cállate (shut up),” he laughs, consciously avoiding making himself look foolish again as he feeds you another bite. He purposely pokes your nose with the back of your fork to smear the tip with whipped cream, and you respond by looking shocked while laughing. 

“That’s so unfair, I have an actual baby in my arms,” you argue, looking down at Sebastian to give him the run-down on his father’s behavior, “You know, Seb, it’s a good thing I love him so much. Look at this. Absolutely ridiculous.”

“I think you might have deserved that one, baby,” he reasons, “Don’t think I feel bad. Seb agrees.”

“You don’t know that,” you use the muslin cloth to wipe a little milk off of your child’s cheek and then wipe whipped cream off your nose too, “Now, please, feed your starving wife. I feel weaker by the second.” 

“Always the dramatic,” he replies but follows through. 

The teasing dies down after that. You eat whatever Javier gives you whilst you are breastfeeding and Javier eventually finds the crossword in the paper to do it during your quiet morning. 

When Sebastian is done eating, cooing happily, you bend your knees and place him against your thighs. You hold both of his hands, doing a little dance with him whilst your husband reads clues aloud. 

“Another word for radiance, four letters and beginning with g,” he says. 

“Glow,” you reply instantly.

“You’re so much better at the crossword thing than me,” he winks and writes down the remaining letters. 

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” you smile at him and he smiles back. The morning is perfect. 

*

After a cozy morning, Javier has to leave for work. He kisses you and Sebastian goodbye and takes the breakfast tray down into the kitchen with him so you can sleep more if you want to. 

You protest at first - it really hadn’t been your intention - but seeing your baby yawn and coo in your arms makes you sleepy, and you end up on your side with Sebastian on Javier’s side of the bed. He has his arms above his head, face turned towards you and you rest an arm over him whilst you snore lightly. The few hours of sleep you get like this without any interruption are fantastic, boosting your productivity for the rest of the early afternoon. 

You dress casually and wrap Sebastian in a sling, so he can sleep against your chest while you clean up from breakfast, fill and start the dishwasher, and do a round of laundry before having to pick up Lucas and Inés from school. 

However, when you start to get the car keys from their place in the hallway, you hear the door open and the familiar sound of children’s voices filling the house. You can hear the enthusiasm in their voices as they talk to who you assume is your husband but when you turn the corner, you see that it is, in fact, your father-in-law.

“Hello, mija (my daughter),” Chucho says and takes off his hat. He hangs it by all the coats and scarves, “Javier told me to pick up the kiddos.”

You look a little dumbstruck, having been taken completely by surprise but still, you walk over to give him a hug and receive a kiss on the cheek, “Did he say why?”

Chucho kisses Sebastian’s head too, who only coos quietly against your chest. From below, Inés is trying to get your attention. You run a hand over her hair without looking at her, trying to get her to tone down her enthusiasm as you search for answers. Chucho just smiles. 

“It’s Valentine’s Day, sweetie,” he reasons with a gentle smile, “I think he has his reasons. All I know is that I’m not supposed to bring them back here before tomorrow afternoon after school.”

“Abuelo promised that we could get pizza for dinner,” Inés interrupts again. You smile down at her whilst trying to process having a whole twenty-four hours off from being parents. 

“Ain’t you lucky,” you say with a grin. 

Chucho beckons Lucas over who brings his school bag with him, “But first, I think these two have some things to show you. Lucas, c’mere.”

“We made presents!” Inés says and Lucas glares. He frowns at his little sister, placing his backpack by his feet and throwing daggers in her direction.

“Inés, you’re ruining the surprise,” he grumbles despite still digging into the bag. Inés seems unbothered about his irritation, simply joining him to stick her hands into the bag as well. Lucas continues, “Don’t tell Mom what it is.”

You and Chucho watch them, hiding a chuckle as Inés eventually still states that she wants to show her drawing first and Lucas starts groaning. 

“Mom!” He says with exasperation. 

“Ay, Inés, por favor (please),” you say, “Let Lucas share his surprise. It’ll be your turn soon.”

“Mine is for Papá,” she states proudly. 

“She’s just excited, hijito (little son),” you hear your father-in-law say. He puts a calloused hand on Lucas’ shoulder, whispering quietly, “Show your mom your present. Inés’ll be too busy talking to notice.”

It is true. Inés gets a hold of her drawing and spends her time admiring her work, and Chucho is sweet enough to indulge her to give you and your son a moment alone. 

In his very own gentle nature, Lucas finds the card that he has made for you just next to where Chucho had told him to store Inés’ drawing as well. He blushes as he hands it to you, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mom.”

You inspect it before opening it; it is a blank card that Lucas has decorated with colorful stickers and glitter, having drawn shapes and patterns along the sides and a big heart in the middle where it says To Mom in his wonky handwriting. 

You open it to reveal a little letter addressed to you. It is framed by another border of glitter:

Dear Mom,

Happy Valentine’s Day! I love you a million billion times around the Earth. You take care of me and Inés and Sebastian. And you always make me happy when you give me a hug. 

Love, Lucas

You find yourself speechless for a moment and out of the corner of your eye, you see the familiar expectant face that Javier sported earlier too. It takes your breath away. 

Carefully, you crouch down with Sebastian still in his sling. It gives you the opportunity to embrace Lucas from the side, hugging him close and kissing his hair repeatedly. You whisper endearments to him, tell him you love him and he gets shy as he reciprocates, using the time to caress Sebastian’s fine hair on top of his head. 

“I love you so much, my Valentine boy,” you say with a soft voice as you pull away, stretching again and running your hand through his dark hair repeatedly. You can feel a few more tears escape your eyes, your heart pinching in your chest from how much love you feel. Could the day become more perfect? You doubt it. 

“Dad asked me about it at breakfast but I was scared of him telling you so it wouldn’t be a surprise because he always does. But then Inés did it anyway…” he grumbles and looks up to see your tears. His eyes widen, “Mom, are you crying?”

“It’s just happy tears, mijo (my son),” you reassure, “Sometimes having babies makes you cry a little more often.”

Lucas seems a little confused by this. You tell him that he’ll understand when he gets older. After all, he only has so many years until hormones will start to rage through his own body. 

Suddenly, the front door opens and closes in the next moment, and Inés giggles loudly as she recognizes the sound of her father’s footsteps. When he enters the kitchen doorway - his steps are way bigger even if Inés is running - he crouches down and opens his arms, “There she is! Mi diablilla (my little devil), how are you?”

Inés throws her arms around her father’s neck, drawing still clutched in her grip to the point where the paper crinkles. You feel like it was a waste of time to try and wipe away your happy tears because the sight makes them well up in your eyes once more. 

“I made you a drawing. Abuelo told me I could give it to you before we go to his house. Did you know we are having pizza tonight? I can have a whole pizza to myself and I want the pizza to have pepperoni,” Inés announces, squealing with delight as Javier wraps his arms around her before stretching to his full height again and picking her up with a dad-groan. He places her on his hip, bumping his nose into her cheek.

“Christ, you get bigger by the second. Pizza? I don’t remember you liking pizza,” Javier teases, walking across the room to the rest of his family. He smiles at his son, reaching out to rub his shoulder with his free hand and winking at him before talking further with babbling Inés, “Hold on, I thought you liked broccoli and spinach the most. Do you really want pepperoni? I think you should get broccoli on your pizza.”

Inés loves it when her father teases her. He’ll act dumb and silly on purpose - her favorite thing a year ago had been whenever he made himself purposely bad at puzzles, and he’d try to piece two corners together -  much to his daughter’s delight. 

“Nooo, ew!” She says with a grin, clinging onto him. 

“She only wants it because I want it,” Lucas says matter-of-factly, still a little frustrated with his little sister. He bounces back and forth on his heels. 

“Then you can have her leftovers, mijo (my son), she never eats a whole pizza anyway” Javier reasons and mouths the last bit of the sentence, moving the hand on his son’s shoulder to put it on the back of his neck. He gently tugs him into his side. Eventually, your son gives in and hugs him around his middle.

“Hi Dad,” he says softly, hugging him tightly even if it’s briefly. 

“Hola,” he smiles. 

“We should get going,” Chucho interrupts gently and reaches for his hat again, “We’ve got a lot of things planned this afternoon. The animals won’t take care of themselves.” 

“My drawing!” Inés yells, squirming in her father’s arms from eagerness and rushing, so much that she nearly smacks the picture into his face. She holds it too close to his eyes so that he has to take it and hold it for her. 

You find yourself tiptoeing up behind them to look at the picture yourself, trying not to distract anyone from what they’re doing. 

It’s a picture of your house. There’s a fire in the chimney but its smoke blows the opposite way of the way that a cloud is raining. She has just started drawing butterflies but they’re as big as the trees in the garden and with multicolored wings. 

In the bottom right corner, she has written I love Daddy but replaced the word love with a heart instead. Underneath is her signature. The S in her name is turning the wrong way but it’s her name nevertheless. 

“This is so good,” Javier says enthusiastically, “Tell me about it. What is it?”

“It’s my house! I drew a lot of butterflies in the garden,” she explains proudly. In the background, you notice that Chucho is carrying bags, which you had no idea were packed, out of the front door. 

“I can see that. You really know how to color. The green one is my favorite,” Javier continues, “Do you want me to put it on the fridge for when you come home tomorrow?” 

Inés nods eagerly. She beams and then turns serious, “Yes! If— if you want to take the rabbit one down that’s okay.”

“Oh, I am gonna miss you, mi vida (my life),” Javier pecks her cheek and she giggles, “So much.”

“It’s only till tomorrow,” you point out with a giggle. 

“Doesn’t mean I won’t miss these rascals,” Javier puts Inés down on the floor again, still holding her drawing and making sure not to crumple it. He ruffles Lucas’ hair, “You too, hijo (son).”

“I love you, Dad,” he says with a shy smile. 

“I love you too, Daddy!” Inés joins in. 

You mimic a wave with Sebastian’s little hand, “I love you too, Papá.”

“Now, now. As much as I love you, say bye to Mom,” he protests, nodding towards his infant son, “Want me to take him?”

“Yes, please,” you say and carefully unwrap Sebastian from his sling. It’s not a difficult transfer, something you have done a million times in the past many years. Sebastian only complains a little, Javier tuts and bounces him and the paper in his hand flaps. 

You hug both of your kids at the same time, kissing them repeatedly on their heads, “I love you very much, my babies. I hope you have a fun time.”

“That’s the car packed,” Chucho announces as he comes back inside, “Come on, kids.”

“Right, I’ll put Seb in his car seat,” Javier replies as Inés and Lucas run to their grandfather’s car. Chucho goes with them to put on their seatbelts. 

“Sebastian is going too?” You tense up. This hasn’t even crossed your mind. 

“It’s just supposed to be us tonight,” Javier says, having put Inés’ drawing on the kitchen counter and already moving towards the front door where the car seat is on top of a cabinet. You hear shuffling around as your husband clicks the safety belt on, and you instinctively follow. 

“We haven’t done that since the summer,” you argue. 

“All the more reason to do it again if it’s been that long,” he responds with a little smile.

“Well, does he have enough milk?” You ask, moving your weight from side to side. 

“More than enough, I packed extra.”

“O-okay.”

Javier leaves the car seat on the floor, steps close to you and cups your face, “He’ll be fine. Just like Inés and Lucas have been in the past. Relax, mi amor, no pasa nada  (my love, it’s okay).” 

“Okay,” you take a deep breath and nod, holding onto one of Javier’s wrists for a moment as you steady yourself. He looks like someone ready to catch you, “Está todo bien (it’s okay).” 

“Now, let’s say goodbye so I can have you to myself, vale?” He smirks, leaning in to kiss you just barely. 

“You have to tell me what you have planned tonight too,” you say and he nods. 

“Claro (of course).”

It takes five minutes to get Sebastian in the car, secure him properly, and wave goodbye to your kids from the driveway. When you cannot see the car anymore, you walk inside and the house gets incredibly quiet after you close the door. The both of you let out a sigh. 

“What now?” You look at Javier questioningly. After all, he is the one who has planned the next 24 hours.

“Honestly? I just want to take a nap,” he finds your hips and steers you closer, linking his arms around your waist. You reach up to rest your palms on his chest, scratching slightly against his shirt. He chuckles, “Do you want to take a nap with me?”

“Just a nap?” You raise a brow. 

“Yes, just a nap,” he confirms with a boyish twinkle in his eyes.

“I’d kill for a nap but only if you tell me what’s happening later. I don’t like surprises,” you remind him when he already starts dragging you by your hand toward the stairs.

Javier waits until the both of you have ascended the stairs before telling you. You don’t say it but there’s a bit of relief following as you thought that he had forgotten what today was, especially because you usually at least get a present from him. He smiles brightly as he speaks, seeming proud that he has managed to keep it a secret from you, “Well, first you are going to wear something nice, a dress, and get all gorgeous for me.”

He continues as you reach the bedroom, toeing off his shoes, “Then at eight, I’m taking you out to dinner at that new place downtown where the portions are fucking tiny and ridiculous.”

“Wait, the gourmet restaurant?” You have let go of his hand to undo the baby wrap, folding it afterward and placing it on your shared dresser, “They’ve been fully booked for months.” 

“Well yeah, and guess whose name is on one of the bookings,” he smirks, crawling onto the bed and waiting for you to follow. 

“You spoil me,” you lay down on your respective sides and turn to face each other. You rest both hands underneath your cheek, grinning at the way that Javier looks so mischievous but suddenly, something in his eyes darkens. 

“What?” You ask.

He reaches out for your waist, “And then when we get home, when you are all giggly from champagne, I am putting a baby in you.”

Your heart skips a beat. All blood in your body goes south. Without thinking, you sling a leg over his body and move closer, “Is that so?”

“Indeed, mi vida (my life),” the hand on your waist goes to rest on top of your thigh. He rubs it once and then twice but doesn’t do anything further, “But not now. Have a nap, wake up, and get pretty for me. You won’t get dick before tonight, lo siento (I’m sorry).”

“Unfair,” you mumble with already closed eyes. 

*

It turns out to be just a nap. You wake a good while longer before Javier, knowing that you need more time than he does to get ready if you want to feel good about going to a fancy restaurant. 

Besides you, your husband continues sleeping soundly. He doesn’t even sense it when the mattress shifts, bed springs creaking a little, as you leave the bed, and you make a mental note to ask him about his day to figure out what on Earth has made him this tired. 

You have a checklist in your head with steps for getting ready to go out. It changes with the details of the event, so you pull out the one that includes what you like to do to look pretty for your husband. However, all the lists always start with a shower. 

The spray is hot and soothing against your skin. You wash your hair and leave in your conditioner while you scrub your body, giving it extra time to work as you top your normal shower routine by shaving your legs. After struggling with balancing your leg against the wall for what has seemed like forever, the last five minutes of your shower are just spent standing underneath the shower head to feel the water cascading down your clean, smooth, and soft skin. 

It takes you twenty-five minutes more to put on lotion, brush your teeth, blow dry your hair, and choose an outfit. When you leave the bathroom to put on your dress, Javier kisses you in the doorway before popping into the shower himself. 

Now the hard part, you think to yourself. The dress you have chosen is from your anniversary a few years ago, consisting of tight red fabric. A part of you knows that it’s a bad idea as soon as you take it off its hanger and start putting it on, stepping into it, and pulling it up over your hips. 

When it hugs your body in a way that feels unfamiliar to you, you step towards the full-body mirror on the bedroom wall with the intention of seeing if it needs any adjustments around your chest and waist. What greets you is not something that you wish to continue looking at but staring into the mirror, you find yourself unable to look away.

A reflection of your post-baby body stares back. You aren’t anymore who you were when you had Lucas, and thus getting back into your usual shape after giving birth to Sebastian has not become a reality despite the pressure from people around you being there. 

There’s not much to say about it except your hips are wider and your stomach protrudes more than it did before. Usually, you haven’t worn a dress before getting down to your pre-pregnancy weight but Javier had made it sound so easy and now, it is so difficult; insecurities whisper in your ear as you try to flatten the fabric in hopes of looking prettier.

However, the scrutiny you put yourself under only intensifies and self-doubt becomes the uninvited guest that insecurity brings to the party. Should you ditch the idea of a dress altogether? You think yes and start to undress again because it’s way too tight around your middle and torso.

When Javier comes back into the bedroom, his hair is still damp and he has put on black underwear. You cannot help feeling the tiniest bit bitter at how well his extra pounds suit him and simply leaves him with a so-called dad-bod. He finds you stepping out of the dress as it has pooled around your feet. You look on the verge of tears at this point, knowing that you are not the woman that he chose to marry ten years ago. 

“¿Que pasó (What happened)?” He is just about to head for the dresser when he stops in his tracks and turns on his heel to face you, noticing immediately the way your shoulders slump when you feel defeated.

You smile at him in the mirror, slightly unsure, when he catches your eyes, and you shift a little on the spot when he goes to stand right behind you.

“What?” You ask.

“What’s wrong?” He inquires once again. 

“Do you think I’m pretty?” The question leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and Javier raises a brow. 

“Is this a trick question?” He continues with a smile, “Baby, you are pretty, so pretty. You look incredible. As in, it is actually illegal or should be.”

Your attempt at a smile falters and Javier seems to realize that he has overdone it. You don’t believe him when he goes too head-on with the compliments. 

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you say in frustration and reach up to rub your face, finally turning around to avoid the mirror completely, “My boobs are too big, my thighs and waist too. Nothing looks good on me, especially not a dress.”

“Ay, slow down,” he looks down at your half-naked body and smirks a little. It mostly just makes you want to cover up again, “First of all, your boobs are great.”

You try to laugh but it just sounds painful. Then he finds your eyes again, watches the pout on your face, and tuts when a tear escapes your eye and rolls down your cheek. 

“I’m not beautiful anymore,” you say as if it’s a fact, “I look so different from when you met me.”. 

He wipes the tear away with his thumb, saying your name gently and you find your eyes prickling with more frustrated tears. 

He lets out a soft aww, baby, and steps closer to pull you into his arms, holding you as he lets you whimper quietly and then cry softly into his shoulder. His hands rub up and down your back. He is so warm.

“How about I choose something?” He suggests after a long silence filled with a bunch of silent tears. He pulls back to look you in the face, “You know I have a favorite, and then it won’t be as much pressure if you worry that I won’t like it. Even if that’s bullshit.”

“O-okay,” you sniffle, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“Okay, baby,” he smiles genuinely and pecks your hair.

He goes to browse through your clothes and you stay by the mirror, still not turning around to look at yourself but instead looking at your feet like a child feeling guilty. It takes a moment for him to find the dress that he refers to as his favorite but when he returns to you, you look up again and are surprised by the one he apparently likes more than all the others.

It’s a navy blue satin dress that you bought last year when you were pregnant with Sebastian, and it quickly became your favorite dress for the summer because it had to be tied just below your breasts and therefore didn’t sit tight around your belly. It has butterfly sleeves and a flowy skirt that is slightly longer in the back and stops right at your knees in the front. It’s a wrap-around too, which means that it shows enough cleavage to make you feel sexy for him and to top it off, holds your breasts in place so you can avoid the annoyance of a bra. 

You don’t know why it didn’t come to mind but you suspect that given how much you wore it last summer, it didn’t feel special enough. However, the fact that Javier likes it so much seems to transform it into the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen. 

Javier pulls the dress off its hanger and walks around you. He puts it on you like a coat and then stands in front of you to tie a knot on the front, undoing it and redoing it when he isn’t satisfied with his creation the first time. None of you say anything. None of you feel the need to.

His hands smooth out the fabric in a careful manner, and you suddenly find that Javier making you feel loved is so interchangeable with you feeling beautiful that you don’t have a clue why you had been in tears five minutes earlier.

He helps you into your heels too, lifting your feet one at a time by holding your ankle. The action is so gentle that you forget to breathe, even more so when he stretches to his full height once more and cups your face. 

“Listen to me,” he says and there’s a certain sternness in his voice. Despite this, he doesn’t sound mean or angry, “I don’t ever want you saying these things about yourself again, okay?”

You nod your head as much as you are able to. A whimper wants to escape your lips but you hold it back. 

“You are my wife, mi vida (my life),” he begins, letting his hands smooth over your shoulders and then down your arms until he can hold both of your hands, “I don’t give a shit about what you used to look like, it’s past, it’s not important. Eres tan hermosa (you are so beautiful). Look at the love you pour into our family. You’re the best Momma in the world, patient and kind, and I am in awe of you every day to the point where I can’t stop falling for you in new ways. You make me happy, make it worthwhile to power through at work so I can come home to you and the kids.”

“And you have never looked sexier,” he continues, eyes going down your body to see for himself that he is undoubtedly right. He grabs your hips, rubbing circles with his thumbs, “Your hips, your thighs… You’ve carried my children, for fuck’s sake. Without you, I’m nothing.”

“I mean look at you…” He trails off for a moment, looking down at where his hand is resting on your hip. You cannot help thinking about how warm his strong hand is, radiating comfort throughout your body. He looks lost in his thoughts and licks his lips without thinking. 

“Javi,” you say quietly. 

“Do you understand?” He asks.

“Yes,” you say almost nervously.

But then suddenly, his arms are around your waist and he is pulling you in for a kiss that makes you forget about the dinner reservation, the insecurities, and the time management altogether. You sling your arms around his neck and give in to his lips on yours, following him wherever he goes as he tugs you away from the mirror and towards the bed. 

Before he instructs you to lie down, his hands find the knot on the front of your dress. He undoes it slowly, letting the dress fall open like a satin robe and groaning at the sight of your lack of a bra. He lets his hands go inside the dress, skimming his palms around your waist to pull you close and your head swims from the feeling of his skin on yours. 

“Hermosa (beautiful),” he says, hands going up and cupping the underside of your breasts, You smile shyly, looking down to where he is touching you. Warmth has started to burn low in your belly just like before you fell asleep. 

With newfound bravery, you reach up to peel the dress off of your shoulders. It falls down to your elbows, exposing your chest and tickling your back, until you let it slip off onto the ground in a pool around your feet. Javier looks like he might need someone to tell him to breathe. 

He wraps one arm around your body and reaches behind your thigh with the other to pull your leg up slightly. Allowing him to slip you off your feet, he moves you onto the bed in a swift motion. 

You kick off your heels as soon as you can, crawling back towards the headboard and Javier follows you without having to get undressed. After all, he never got any further because he saw you. You feel like you want to giggle with glee at the fact that you still have this effect on him years later. 

Instinctively, you bend your legs and plant your feet flat on the mattress and without hesitation, Javier crawls between them to look down at you and marvel at the sight. He looks like a child on Christmas Day, hands reaching out to run up your shins, over your knees, and to grope at your thighs. 

“Qué fuerte (unbelievable), are you really my wife?” He muses while rubbing your thighs absentmindedly. You reach for his hands and tug him down to you. 

“Sí, mi amor (yes, my love),” you sound drunk on him already, using his own words against him. He is so close to you as he lies on top of you, crushing you so heavenly with his weight.

He kisses you longingly and gently scoops you into his strong arms whilst he does it, holding you flush against himself so you can feel your nipples harden against his chest. When you inhale through your nose to keep the kiss going, his scent fills your nostrils and God, he smells like soap and home.

It takes a minute to move on. You can see how he wants to descend on your body but each time he tries, you want another kiss and he happily indulges you. Like a couple of teenagers, you only stop when both of you have slightly swollen lips and he has a hard-on poking into your thigh. 

“Let’s get these off,” Javier crawls back on the bed with elevated breath, fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your panties. He tugs them down your thighs and you help by lifting your ass off the mattress for a moment. His eyes are glued to your soft, fresh-out-of-the-shower and glowing skin, kissing your ankle as he slips your underwear off your feet and throws it to the side. 

“You are so fucking hot,” he sounds in awe, “Look at you.”

You cannot stop grinning. Even when he lowers himself down on the bed again and gets comfortable between your thighs. 

When he settles, he takes the sight of you in. You can feel your heartbeat in your untouched clit, and it only gets more powerful when Javier looks between your legs as if he is starved. He noses along your knee and then bites your inner thigh, growling under his breath. He moves inwards towards your quivering cunt then finds your eyes just before he dives in, indulges, “Do you know how fucking wet you are for me?”

You do know. It has steadily gotten to the point where you know that when you are going out later, you need to wear a new pair of underwear since the white cotton has probably become see-through and shiny. 

And then his mouth is on you and you throw your head back, nearly breaking your neck and letting out a hah-sound as you stare up at the ceiling.

“You’re so good at that,” you moan, letting your eyes fall shut so nothing can distract you from the way his velvety tongue feels between your legs. It is intense to focus on nothing but the way he can guide it over your clit until your toes start to curl, “Oh my God, baby!”

When he kisses your clit and then sucks on it afterward, you lose your mind. Both of your hands come down to rest on the top of his head and when you feel the first flutters of pleasure that tell you that you are getting closer, you cannot keep your hips still. You move underneath his mouth, pushing your pelvis upward occasionally to let him devour you even further.

He eats you until you are seeping arousal into the bedsheets, pussy aching to be filled and stretched in only the way that his cock can. You twitch, clit pulsing, when his mouth leaves you briefly but you know what is to come - other than you, obviously - so you don’t complain. He does it to concentrate on slipping two fingers inside of you, pressing them upwards toward your g-spot before curling them over and over again. 

His mouth finds your clit again and he is beyond his usual enthusiasm. The hands on his head stop simply resting there. Instead, you thread your fingers through his hair to channel the way you want to scream into something else because oh, mmhm, oh… oh! 

You come on his tongue, shaking like a leaf and with a high-pitched moan that bounces off the walls. Your whole lower body spasms, walls clamping down on Javier’s fingers which still press towards your front wall and make you delirious with pleasure. 

“Fuck!” You cry, “Fuckfuckfuck!”

Javier has pushed himself to his knees to watch you. He replaces his tongue on your clit with his thumb, teasing out the very last twitches of your high by going in circles until you need to yank his wrist away from the overstimulation. 

After a moment, you begin to giggle. Your hand skims over your forehead, holding it there afterward in an almost soothing manner. Javier is looking at you, having wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and is now trying to decipher whether he can move on to something more or if you need a break. 

At no point do either of you think about checking the time. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day to me,” you say when you finally get your breath under control. You still feel giggly but instead, it comes out as a soft chuckle as you speak. 

“You make it sound like I don’t do this often,” he crawls closer to you again, and you tell him to come here as he enters your arms. He kisses your neck a few times and then looks up at you, “I go down there quite a lot and often, you know.”

“Yes, yes, like a good boy, I know,” you tease him, reaching for his chin to pull him into a soft and lazy kiss. He tastes like you, and you lose yourselves in each other once more until Javier pulls off his briefs with one hand. He discards them without leaving you for too long, throwing them to whatever spot he had aimed your own underwear at. 

“Need to have you close,” you voice what you long for, having grown needy from seeing him undress completely. The sight of his beautiful cock is enough to get you fired up again, clenching around nothing, “Please.”

You spread your legs even further and Javier lies between them, reaching down to ease his cock inside of you. He enters you slowly and with a shaky breath, the both of you staring down to watch as he disappears inside of your cunt. 

You hold onto his arms, breathing hard and trying to relax as it stings slightly due to his generous girth. The second he bottoms out, you whine feebly as if you have been holding it back and it’s now safe to do so. 

“Lo sé (I know),” he soothes.

“You feel so good,” you babble, “I love you.”

“Y yo a ti (I love you too),” he bumps your noses together, looking into your eyes as he moves once and then twice. Your mouth falls open in a gasp and he uses the opportunity to lick into your mouth and kiss you deeply. 

You slide your hands underneath his arms to hug him close, letting them go up along his broad back and each ripple of muscle that flexes as he fucks you until you can clutch onto his shoulders. You rock with him, relishing in the smooth motion of his hips moving back and forth to stretch your cunt open again and again. 

Your fingers dig into his shoulders until your knuckles start to ache. No matter how many times he is with you like this, it will never be enough. It will never be enough because you need him to be this close and connected to you every goddamn day. It’s like a hardcore drug that clouds your brain, like the oxygen that you breathe in daily, like the food and drink necessary to survive. 

Without interrupting him, you move to dig your heels into the back of his legs. With each stroke of his cock inside of you, each roll of his gorgeous hips and pelvis, you can feel the muscles of his calves tightening and relaxing. Your limbs tangling around him allows you to angle him how you want it most, so you mumble something and dig your heels in further. 

Suddenly, his pelvic bone crashes against your clit, and it continues doing so until you know that this is how you are going to come a second time. 

“Oh, just like that,” you let your head fall back into the mattress, “You’re gonna make me— Javi! You’re gonna make me come, baby.”

“Is this pussy mine? Esta cosita linda (This pretty little thing)?” He asks with a growl, sounding so sexy that you know he is determined to make your orgasm approach even faster because his thrusts speed up.

“Para toda la vida (for life),” you say breathlessly, panting as you near your crescendo. It only takes a few more strokes against your clit and then you are done for, coming a second time with a sharp intake of breath and then a cry that could disturb the neighbors from whatever they are doing.

He kisses each whimper from your mouth and slows down a little to give you space for you to return to him. However, you know that this isn’t the end. His stamina today is mind-boggling but you don’t complain, instead take what he can give you even if it leaves you sore until the next day.

“You okay?” He asks when you have calmed down. 

You let your arms and legs fall down to your sides with a blissful expression on your face. You nod, reaching up to rub your eyes as you feel deeply sated, “Just give me a moment.” 

“Think you can take anymore?” He pulls out of you to get back onto his knees. You make a noise. On his shoulders, you spot the little crescent marks that your nails have left. 

“We’re making babies, right?” You note.

“Claro (of course),” he snorts. 

“Then you better screw me silly, Mr. Peña,” you shift slightly on the bed to present your spent cunt for him once more but more obscenely this time by reaching down and spreading your lips open. He groans at the sight, especially when you visibly clench around nothing and silently promise him what’s to come.

“Anything for you, Mrs. Peña,” he almost sounds in pain from the desperation to get back inside of you.

The sweet tenderness and romance are put on hold for something dirtier to take their place, Javier moving forward until the front of his thighs touches the back of yours. He pushes inside of you again with a gasp of your name and places his hands on your hips, holding on tightly so he can pound you into the mattress. 

The sound of his skin slamming against yours fills the room along with your moans, and each thrust sends ripples of intense pleasure through your body now that you are so sensitive. You allow yourself the relief of crying out towards the ceiling because, for the next twenty-four hours, you are completely child-free so who cares?

Javier’s eyes burn with desire at your noises. He is so beautiful, mouth hanging slightly open as he pants and his shoulders looking even broader when he hovers above you. And his noises, he is louder than normal too, you realize, with no intention of quieting his moans down either. 

A particular snap of his hips sends you reeling as he nudges your g-spot just right and makes you grip at the sheets. Javier is on you like a hawk and notices immediately the way that his cock has severed connection to your brain for a moment. 

“You like that? You like my cock?” He digs his thumbs into your hip bones, indulging himself by staring down at where his cock pistons in and out of you. His length is sticky with your arousal, “I can tell you like my cock, God, your come is all over me, baby.”

You bite your lower lip, furrow your brows, and nod repeatedly, “Yes… yesyesyes!”

“You’re on fire today, mi amor (my love), makes me wanna come inside of you like I’m meant to,” he spits filthy words as he goes harder, “Think you can give me one more? Make those gorgeous legs shake?”

The comment about your legs makes you bend them to your chest so you can link your arms under your knees. The position makes Javier swear under his breath, and when you squeeze around your calves, he becomes a tighter fit inside of you and a sob escapes you. 

He is the one to look drunk now, fighting the urge to let his eyes roll back into his skull in case he misses anything you do while he drives into your pussy in this new position. He moves his hands to place them on the back of your thighs and contort your body slightly. He digs his fingers into the extra pounds there and then fucks you with your shared pleasure in mind. 

The squelch of your cunt is obscene and you almost sound like you’re crying from how he pounds your g-spot. A third high, which started building slowly, approaches so quickly that you squeeze your eyes shut and nearly choke as you scream for him, “Yes, oh my God, yes! I’m—“

“That’s my girl,” he sounds close too, “Get it all over my cock, baby.”

The bliss you feel as you come a third time turns your demeanor from pathetic and whimpering into smiling and giggling instead. You look up at him with hazy eyes while you are grinning, moaning, and coming so hard that Javier cannot stop himself from laughing slightly even if it’s interrupted by his own moans.

“Fuck, you are gorgeous coming for me,” he praises with a shit-eating grin, gasping sharply at reaching his own peak a second later because he just cannot hold back any longer. He pulses inside of you, breeds you until you are filled to the brim, and you can feel some of it spilling out onto the bed sheets. 

Exhausted is not the right word. Your whole body slumps when post-orgasmic bliss hits you and you groan as Javier topples down on top of you as well. You melt together and breathe hard, one big tangle of limbs turning you into an octopus. 

“Definitely didn’t have time for that,” you say eventually.

“Stop being so hot then,” he jokes. He lifts his head to kiss you longingly and you allow yourself to lose yourself in it, again forgetting about the time that’s ticking by. 

As Javier reluctantly tears himself away from you, he casually looks at the clock on the nightstand and gets up so quickly that he needs to find his balance. He seems to realize that you are not just fashionably late but actually really late, “Mierda (shit).”

You check the time too and swear as well. It is twenty minutes to eight, and it takes at least fifteen minutes to drive to the inner city. There’s no way that the two of you are going to make the reservation, and you will just have to hope that they are kind enough to hold onto your table the minutes you are going to be late. 

It seems like you turn into the stars of your own romantic comedy, the only thing missing being the laughing track in the background because you move through the house so quickly that you almost forget to put on underwear after getting cleaned up in the bathroom. The rush doesn’t even give you time to ponder your shape in the mirror again.

By the time you actually leave the house, you are laughing at the ridiculousness of it all and looking disheveled. In fact, you have to stop Javier from getting into your car because his buttons are buttoned unevenly and his collar looks like he’s been out in a storm. 

“Right, fuck, what’s the time?” Javier asks when he slams the car door on his side. 

You look at the car radio’s clock, making a concerned noise, “Hmm… Ten to eight. If you speed a little?”

“I’m law enforcement,” he deadpans. 

“You’re also late for a booking you have had for months,” you argue. 

Javier pulls out of the driveway but despite it all, he still doesn’t speed with the mother of his children in the car. 

However, he does use his badge in the window to get a parking spot close to the restaurant. He pulls it from the glove box and you raise an eyebrow at him, to which he simply tells you to shut up with a tiny glint in his eye. 

Your heels click on the sidewalk as you speedwalk towards the restaurant’s main entrance. Javier holds the door open for you, and for a moment, you actually look like a couple who has it all together and is on a date. 

Despite this, it seems that impromptu sex is apparently not good for new restaurant businesses, even if it starts out innocently with an intention of comforting one’s partner, because your table has already been given to someone else. You can see Javier’s fist tightening into a ball at his side as he is told this. 

The man at the front desk looks unimpressed with your husband’s attempt to make him show you to a table anyway, and you even hear Javier saying that he cannot, in good conscience, let you starve. 

You stand a little behind your husband who quietly fumes because nothing seems to work, “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid we’re fully booked tonight and many nights ahead. It is Valentine’s Day after all.”

“Yes, I am aware,” he replies with gritted teeth. 

“Honey,” you reach out to put a hand on his arm and he whirls around, only to look a lot more calm the second he finds your gaze, “It’s fine. Come on, we’ll find someplace else.”

“But you’re starving,” he says helplessly. 

“Then let’s not keep this up. I know a place around the corner,” you smile at him, holding out your hand until he gives in and takes it, “Besides, they can keep their tiny portions to themselves.”

It may just be the last remains of what you did half an hour ago but Javier starts snickering while you guide him through the door and out into the evening air. He only manages to walk down the street with you for a few yards before he presses you against a brick wall and kisses you. 

“No,” you scold him playfully and place your palms on his chest, “I don’t care if you’re Laredo’s local hero. You couldn’t get a table so we’re not wasting time by making out in public. Like you said, I am starving.”

“Descarada (cheeky devil),” he pecks your lips but lets go of you, “Fine, lead the way.”

The two of you start walking. The place you have in mind is only a short walk away and it’s a nice night, so you don’t mind. Especially not when you can walk hand-in-hand with Javier the whole way and not have to say a thing.

You end up in front of a food truck that sells tacos. It is the perfect spot for something low-key which makes your whole night seem even funnier now that you are so overdressed. The two of you snicker together as you wait in line, mostly resembling a couple who have escaped a tedious wedding to get junk food. 

“My treat,” he says.

“You better. It’s your fault we’re here,” you tease.

“I think we have different versions of what happened back home,” he winks, “But fine, order whatever you want. Like always.”

You order your food, telling the owner of the food truck to go heavy on the pico de gallo and Javier follows behind with his own order. After paying, you take a step back to let other people buy their food. 

“This is where we had our first date,” he notices, an arm around your waist as you wait for your food. He tightens his grip around you as he speaks, “Where I knew I wanted to marry you, have kids with you.”

“This is not where we had our first date,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes, looking at him long enough for him to give you a kiss. 

“Yes it was,” he replies. 

“No, you were drunk and we were heading home from the bar a few blocks from here,” you remind him, “We’d only just met. Connie told me not to follow you.”

“Fuckin’ Connie,” he shakes his head, “No, that was definitely our first date. I don’t care what you say. I just don’t wanna think about the disaster that followed even if you want to call that the first date.”

“You were late and we missed our reservation,” you reminisce, “Just like today.”

“Which is why I am not calling it the first,” he lets go of you as the woman in the truck places your orders on the counter. He hands you yours and then takes his own, “We had food, talked for hours and you were wearing that dress with the bows.”

“No more talk about dresses,” you groan as you walk to find a spot, “You’re making me depressed.”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs with a grin, “I knew then.”

“Well, I knew when Connie told me you were forbidden fruit,” you smile back at him, and there’s something strangely comforting about knowing that he follows right behind. 

The food truck's sitting area is right behind it in a cozy nook between two buildings. As disappointed as you were at not getting to try out the new restaurant in town, the picnic tables, and colorful plastic chairs more than make up for it. It is a lot more romantic than what you assume the gourmet restaurant would have been, and you choose a spot right underneath a blanket of string lights that seem to imitate stars. 

There are a few guests aside from you, and you feel warm at hearing their voices filled with laughter and joy. 

You sit down on the bench and tuck your skirt between your knees, getting comfortable and looking excitedly down at your soon-to-be-devoured food. There’s something uniquely satisfying about a greasy meal after sex, and even more so when your husband indulges you to have whatever you want. 

You pick up your taco and bite into it, doing a happy dance as you chew whilst Javier watches you with a grin on his face. However, the happiness is short-lived because something in the taco triggers a wave of nausea and you soon realize that it is the pico de gallo. 

“What is it?” Javier has caught on because you cannot help but grimace. 

“This tastes funny,” you say. Puzzled, you take another bite but quickly stop yourself before you are stupid enough to go for a third. Your stomach growls but there’s no way you are eating the rest without at least scraping it off. 

Carefully, you place the taco back down on its paper tray and take a few napkins from the dispenser on the end of the picnic table. You spit your latest bite out into one of them because your body does not agree with the idea of swallowing the acidity again. Then you take a long sip of your water and wish you had something to neutralize the taste in your mouth.

Without thinking much of it, you start to rid your food of the salsa fresca. You use your index finger to scrape it out onto the napkin and pick any remaining pieces off too, avoiding the natural instinct to suck your finger clean and wipe it on a new napkin instead. In front of you, Javier has stopped eating and simply watches you. 

You feel slightly judged by him, narrowing your eyes from annoyance, “What?”

“Are you pregnant?” He asks with a furrowed brow.

“What? No way,” you let out a chuckle of disbelief, “That’s not funny.”

“Honey,” he continues, nodding down at the napkin, “You love pico de gallo.” 

“So? The only times I haven’t eaten it has been when I’m pregna—“ your eyes widen, looking down at your taco for a moment before staring at Javier again. He looks just as alarmed by your food which is only two bites down, “There’s no way.”

Around you, people have started to notice a shift in your voice. It probably sounds like you are upset, like Javier is using Valentine’s Day to break up with you. 

“Baby, there’s no way,” you say again and your voice has become a little higher pitched, “I’d only be five weeks along.”

To the opposite of you, Javier is speechless. He has stopped eating his own dinner, sitting with his own taco but is unable to figure out how to react. 

“We can’t have been lucky the first time around. My period is due in a few days. This is ridiculous. Sebastian is only just about five months old,” you are starting to sound frantic, “Javi. Baby, I am freaking out.”

Javier blinks a few times almost as if he is mentally shaking himself out of his trance. He reaches across the table and takes hold of your wrist, “Calm down. Let’s just finish eating and then we can go get one of those early detection tests, yeah? Te prometo que todo va a salir bien (I promise you that everything is going to be okay).” 

“Yes, alright, you’re right,” you feel instantly calmed by his touch, turning your palm upward so he can hold your hand instead. Then you frown, “But I can’t eat this. It’s probably still going to taste like it.”

“Hold on,” he says, letting go of you to switch plates with you without hesitation, “There, now you can eat.”

“Te quiero (I love you),” you sigh happily, smiling at him from across the table. 

“Love you too, now eat, so you can feed my kid,” he starts to load the taco with pico de gallo again. 

*

The late-night pharmacy, just opening, exudes a subtle but steady hum of activity, bathing in the fluorescent glow of overhead lights. Shelves are neatly lined with pharmaceuticals, and you scrunch up your nose at the faint scent of antiseptic. Javier keeps a hand on the small of your back the whole time, steering you gently toward the counter as if this new piece of information has made him instantly more protective.

There’s only a single pharmacist behind the counter, a middle-aged woman with her glasses around her neck in a chain, but she doesn’t blink when you explain your sudden emergency. She beckons you down along the aisles and grabs a few different pregnancy tests for you to choose from. 

“This one is more certain but it does cost a little extra,” she explains and holds up a Clearblue digital test. Javier quickly exchanges a look with you. 

“We’ll take that one, actually make it two,” you say, tapping your feet nervously on the floor, “Can I use the bathroom here?” 

“We’re that eager?” She smiles, “Sure, dear. Let me just get the key.”

Javier pays at the counter, a twinkle in his eyes as he makes a joke, “My treat again.”

“You better; you’re the one who got us into this mess - again,” you giggle and it even earns you a chuckle from the pharmacist. 

“I hope you get the result you are hoping for,” she says when unlocking the door to the staff toilet. She ushers you both inside the door and then closes it behind you.

Silence at last, you think to yourself and even find that the water you drank with your meal earlier has run right through you. You pull up your skirt, twisting it and tying a knot to keep it from falling down again. You go for your underwear next, bending over to pull them down your legs to your ankles. You feel Javier’s palm steadying you without thinking.

Besides you, Javier starts tearing open the Clearblue boxes. He hands them to you one by one, and you finally sit down to pee, angling your wrist awkwardly to make sure you use the sticks correctly. The both of you stay silent through the whole ordeal.

You wrap both pregnancy tests in toilet paper and hand them to Javier who places them on the edge of the sink so you can finish up and get dressed again. He takes a step to the side to let you wash your hands, having crossed his arms over his chest and started tapping his fingers nervously.

While you listen to the sound of the water running, the air in the tiny, poorly lit bathroom seems to hang thick with anticipation. You want to say something but there is nothing you can say that’ll ease your shared, anxious heartbeat. Eventually, Javier beats you to it.

“Don’t be disappointed if it’s negative,” he gives you an uncertain smile. Mostly, it sounds as if he is talking to himself. 

“You know I will be,” you sigh, stepping close to link your arms around his neck. He nods in understanding, cupping your waist and rubbing soothingly with his thumbs.

“Me too,” he lets out a shaky breath.

“I know,” you automatically tighten your grip on him as the minutes go by, knowing that he needs it as much as you. On the sink, the white plastic sticks seem to mock you with their silence. 

Come on… 

A few minutes more and suddenly, you know there is no way back. It seems ridiculous that a stick with your pee on it has the ability to predict your future but here you are. You shake your head after untangling yourself from your husband, “I can’t look.”

Javier bravely takes them from their place on the sink. Your stomach does somersaults as he unwraps them, twisting them so their displays face upward. A slow, relieved smile spreads across his face and he looks up immediately, “You’re four to five weeks pregnant.”

“What?” You grab his wrist to take a look for yourself, “There’s no way!”

Sure enough, both displays show a positive result and an approximate number of weeks. Calculating in your head, you know it has to be that one time in the middle of the night in January. The thought of getting it right without even really having begun is crazy because it’s so unbelievable. 

“That’s so surreal,” you walk straight into his arms. He hugs you tightly, resting his lips on your forehead and you can feel his elevated breathing because you are so close to him. 

“Pop is going to have a heart attack,” he mumbles with slight amusement, although you can hear the tremor in his voice. You look into his eyes, reaching up to cup his cheek and smiling softly.

“We can’t tell anyone yet, it’s not been three months,” you say, lost in just staring at him. He is so beautiful when he is happy. 

“God, I know, I'm just so excited,” he chuckles, a little embarrassed. 

“I’m sure you’ve already figured out that it’s going to be a Halloween baby,” you grin. 

“Oh fuck, forget about Pop; Inés is gonna get so pissed if she has to share Halloween with a birthday child,” he starts to laugh after he has said it. You join in, high on the happiness you feel.

“I love you so much,” you say when the laughter dies down. 

“I love you too,” he kisses you after saying it. 

“And happy Valentine’s Day to us,” you continue, letting Javier pull away to throw the pregnancy tests out and wash his hands. 

“See? Now you’re using it right,” he teases after drying his hands. 

Then he opens the door and waits for you to step outside. Everything seems possible tonight.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[fxirybun]

🍡 PAC: script shifting scenarios with your DR s/o + mini moodboards

INTRO

hey there my fellow shifters ! i have a sweet treat that i'm about to offer to you all which was already stated in the title above ^^ if you're currently struggling with writing your script or experiencing writer's block , this post is meant for you ꒰◍ˊ◡ˋ꒱੭⁾⁾  i included some mini moodboards to help you visualize the scenarios.

i would like to thank the person who gave me this suggestion ^^ hopefully they get to see this post <3

READ ME

this is a shift-related pick-a-card reading. DR means “desired reality” whilst s/o means “significant other”. scripting is a useful tool that allows shifters to write down their intentions and add some specific details about themselves and the reality they want to enter.

this is a collective reading ! take what resonates and leave what doesn't. i cannot guarantee 100% accuracy. take the pac reading lightly ჱ̒ ｰ̀֊ｰ́ )

ෆ⸒⸒ pile one🍦

these scenarios can be adapted however you like to fit the connection and dynamic you imagine with your DR s/o. it's also great for visualizing deeper moments and building a strong emotional link to that reality !

01 THE COZY CAFÉ DATE

you and your DR s/o are sitting in a cozy , dimly lit café with warm beverages as you and your DR s/o's order. the weather outside is cool , maybe it’s raining outside due to how cloudy the sky is , similar to london weather. the two of you are both wrapped in scarves and sweaters. there's soft music that plays in the background as you and your DR s/o exchange stories about childhood memories and plans for the future.

SELF-MADE QUOTES : "nothing feels warmer than the presence of your soul residing next to me".

02 STARGAZING ADVENTURE

it's a clear night outside and how you and your DR s/o are both planning to drive out to a secluded hill , a field of flowers / plants, or hanging out at the seashore. with a blanket that is spread out , you lie together with them , pointing out the constellations that you saw from the night sky , making wishes on shooting stars , and talking about the vastness of the universe , while feeling deeply connected between you and your DR s/o.

SELF-MADE QUOTES : "the stars are indeed beautiful but i'm only , i'm only looking at you're glimmering eyes whilst you're admiring the night sky".

03 COOKING MEALS TOGETHER

in a warm , sun-filled kitchen , you and your DR s/o are cooking a meal together. inside the kitchen room, you can hear laughter as you playfully argue about how much spice your DR s/o added , maybe a little flour fight breaks out between the two of you. at the end of the cooking session , you both enjoy the meal that you and your DR s/o prepared. there's candlelight on the table , making a toast to the simple joys of life.

SELF-MADE QUOTES : "“we stirred up more than just a meal—laughter , love , and the kind of joy that fills both the heart and the table”.

EXTRAS : anime world , power / influence (being famous , rich , has authority , strong connection with people of high social status) , grumpy x sunshine , with people around you , magical / supernatural , idol world (kpop , jpop , cpop , etc.) , surprise / unplanned / not much is being scripted , introvert x introvert dynamic , erotic , heart , dragonfly , moon , horse , bicycle.

ෆ⸒⸒ pile two 🍵

these scenarios can be adapted however you like to fit the connection and dynamic you imagine with your DR s/o. it's also great for visualizing deeper moments and building a strong emotional link to that reality !

01 A LAZY MORNING IN BED

it's a slow weekend morning. the sunlight coming from the outside streams in through the window , and you and your DR s/o both lie in bed , wrapped up in each other's presence. there's no rush in trying to get up—just sleepy conversation , giving soft kisses , and cuddling whilst the world outside stays still. maybe or perhaps you can even make breakfast together afterward.

SELF-MADE QUOTES : “no need to chase the day when every moment here feels like forever”.

02 A ROAD TRIP WITH NO DESTINATION

you and your DR s/o both decided to take an impromptu road trip together. the windows are up , music coming from the radio is blasting , and how the wind is brushing through your hair. you knew that there was no fixed destination as to where the two of you were going , just an adventure to look forward to. you and them stop at random spots—a small-town diner , a beautiful lookout point , or a quirky roadside attraction whilst creating memories along the way.

SELF-MADE QUOTES : "with no map to guide us , the open road became our compass , and how each stop is an unexpected chapter.”

03 DANCING IN THE LIVING ROOM

on a quiet evening inside the living room , one of your favorite songs comes on from the speaker. without saying a word , your DR s/o pulls you into a dance. you feel as if the rest of the world fades away and time slowly stops as you move together in perfect harmony , lost in each other’s eyes. the warmth of their embrace envelops you , creating a bubble where only the two of you and the music exist. each gentle sway feels like a promise for a lifetime.

SELF-MADE QUOTES : “we both dance in silence , lost in each other’s gaze , turning a simple moment into an eternal memory.”

EXTRAS : adventure , tragedy , booktok / book world , superhero / villain , thriller / horror , comic book world , magical / supernatural , alone , mythology , fairy , horse , starfish / star , mermaid / siren , anchor.

ෆ⸒⸒ pile three 🍫

these scenarios can be adapted however you like to fit the connection and dynamic you imagine with your DR s/o. it's also great for visualizing deeper moments and building a strong emotional link to that reality !

01 CAMPING UNDER THE STARS

you find yourself in a serene forest by a lake , camping with your DR s/o. after setting up a tent , you decided to sit by the fire roasting marshmallows , sharing stories , and how laughter can be heard. the crackling flames and the gentle rustle of leaves create a soothing backdrop for your connection. later on , you and your DR s/o fall asleep , feeling safe in each other's presence. in those moments , the worries of the world fade away , leaving only the warmth of love and the beauty of the stars above.

SELF-MADE QUOTES : "under a starlit sky , “By the firelight, laughter echoed in the serene forest, as we held each other close, wrapped in love and the magic of a starlit night.”

02 CELEBRATING A SPECIAL ACHIEVEMENT

you just accomplished something important in your DR , whether it’s personal or professional , and how you considered it to be a big milestone for you. Your DR s/o found out about this exciting news and decided to surprise you with a small celebration—a homemade dinner , a handwritten letter , or maybe just their heartfelt words of pride and love for the person they love which is you. this moment feels special for the two of you.

SELF-MADE QUOTES : "your support in my achievement made the victory sweeter , but it’s your love that makes every moment feel truly complete.”

03 A DREAM VACATION

you and your DR s/o are about to embark on a vacation to your dream destination. wether this location or trip to a tropical beach , a walk in a european city, or staying in a mountain cabin. you found yourself immersed in spending days exploring , taking a quick relaxation , and even discovering new things with them. there are moments of awe at observing the beautiful landscapes , and feeling connected to the world. your Dr s/o decided to take you to a quiet , romantic dinner with a breathtaking view , making the vacation feel more magical.

SELF-MADE QUOTES : “with every step we take , the world whispers its beauty , but it’s your gaze that holds the most radiant horizon.”

EXTRAS : shoujo , main waiting room , superstar life (singer , dancer , music-related , famous) , surpise / unplanned / not much is being scripted , fan-fiction / au , platonic soulmates (friends , siblings , family , etc.) , slice of life , josei , sci-fi , squirrel , rose , tree , moon , star.

[myokk]

✨ELOISE APOLLONIA BABBIT✨

My sweet and entirely too introspective girl🥹

She was born the second child of Oberon Babbit and Elladora Black in 1874. Her older brother, Leonard, has been prepared from birth to inherit everything and carry on the family name. (I love Leo so so so much too♥️). The Babbits are one of the oldest, most powerful wizarding families and quite reclusive, being able to trace their lineage back to pre-Roman times. If the Babbits had been around in the 1930s when the Sacred 28 list was created, they DEFINITELY would have been on it.

Her relationship with her mother is quite complicated. I made a huge post (for myself and @elliecutte 😭♥️) about Elladora, which I think shows her loneliness and loss of control. She put too many expectations on her daughter - the women of the Black family are known for being exceptionally powerful (& unstable😶) and was unable to handle the shame of having given birth to a squib.

As Eloise got older and older, without any sign of magic whatsoever, she was slowly isolated until the day came and went when she SHOULD have received her letter to Hogwarts. When it never arrived, she was burned off of the family tree and made like she never existed à la her great-nephew Sirius. HOWEVER…for reasons I haven’t explained yet in my fic (so I don’t want to spoil too much🤐) her parents decided to take advantage of her situation and enrolled her in a muggle boarding school and pulled strings to betroth her to a prominent muggle landowner to take advantage of connections and make it so that her life wasn’t a complete waste.

Eloise HATED living with the muggles. When she arrived at the school, she was clearly from an important family, and yet none of the girls had ever heard of her. She didn’t know who the Queen was, she didn’t know the basics of etiquette that had been drilled into them from birth, etc. the only enjoyment she got from that time was learning to play the piano and learning about muggle literature♥️ she especially loves Satie’s gnosiennes and Chopin, and reads anything she can get her hands on.

Her parents were actually FURIOUS when she was accepted to Hogwarts at the age of 16. They were counting on exploiting her future connection with her muggle betrothed’s family/wealth, and they lost their chance. Now, they’re trying to take advantage of her in other ways, working to prepare her for the life she had always been denied before.

My girl is STRESSED THE FUCK OUT !!!!!!!!! She hates herself so much for how badly she wants her parents approval; they threw her aside without a second thought, so why in the world is she bending over backwards and going along with all of their demands, hoping for a tiny scrap of affection?????????😔😔😔

She has a LOT of growth, character development, maybe not always for the best. She is imperfect and fallible and just a teenage girl with too many emotions roiling around inside of her to know what to do with.

My fic includes a lot of horror, blood rituals, sacrifice, magical theory, mythological references, lots of romance & slowburn, making all the wrong decisions, arranged marriage to the wrong person, complicated family dynamics and conflicting emotions that are all existing simultaneously & a very sweet girl who is going THROUGH IT😔🙏 my masterlist links to all of my Eloise posts, my fic, PLUS she is the unnamed MC in my two oneshots, clumsy and note-taking🫶

Thank you so much @bookie-bookdust for starting this & for tagging me🫶🫶🫶

The MCs of this fandom are just all so very amazing and creative, and I genuinely love seeing every post I come across during my morning coffee scroll♥️ lately I’ve been more of a silent lurker (all of my likes come from my main blog @oerflink), but hopefully I can be more active again 🤞 If you see this and haven’t done an introduction post yet for your own, PLEASE DO !!!!!!

[seookki]

Hihi! I saw your post about writing haikyuu fluffs :> I was wondering if you could do my request? No pressure course!!! It'd be kenmaxreader:

Reader could be nekomas manager and also a great cook and baker and likes to bring food to practice to feed the team. Canonically Kenma has the smallest appetite out of all the characters in Haikyuu so it might be fun to have Kenma be reluctant to eat reader's food at first but over time he starts enjoying it and he starts liking them because of how nice they are. He could confess by giving reader something he made/baked himself :")

TOO CUTEEE Thank you so much for requesting! I hope I did your prompt some justice..😞😞!!

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Fluff

Kenma x Reader

2.1 k words ────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────────

Kenma sighs as he wipes the sweat off his forehead with a towel. Nekoma had just finished their practice and everyone was exhausted. Kuroo walks over to Y/N as she finished distributing water bottles and they discussed for a bit and Kenma couldn't help but look over. Kuroo was immediately blurred out and the spotlight became on you and he took notice of small things like the way you use your hands to convey your emotions and your chirpy behavior. He wanted to try to talk to you.

You were a 2nd year student who had just recently joined as their manager and you immediately made a difference to the team. Your personality brought light into their lives and they couldn't have been more grateful that you decided to join them. Kenma included.

"Oh!" you exclaim and the team immediately turns towards you

"I baked apple pie for you guys as a sweet treat for working so hard during practice! Only get one slice!" You smile as you present your proud work through a beautifully golden glazed apple pie.

"Y/NNNN" Yamamoto cries as he runs at you. You jump a little and Yaku kicks him away to protect you. "Sorry about Yamamoto. You really didn't have to do that for us Y/N. Thank you." Nobuyuki smiles at you. "It's no problem! You guys know how much I love baking." You said, smiling back.

It's true. You often had baked some sweet treat or snack the night before a practice or a game for them and you simply said it was because you just wanted to. That was another reason why the team loved you. There was a running joke that your nickname was 'Magic Hands' among the team because of how good your food tasted. Kenma usually never ate any of them because his stomach would usually hurt if he ate something after practices.You took no offence because you knew how his stomach was. 

However this time, the aroma of cinnamon and warm apples to the buttery crust and slight vanilla was something that Kenma absolutely could not ignore. After all, it is his favorite food.

You hand Kuroo a slice and he indulges it in one bite. His eyes widen wide and he makes a sound that you're unsure is a good sign or a bad sign. He suddenly falls to one knee with his face toward the ground and you suddenly worry that it tasted bad.

He looks up at you with serious eyes and you look back at him with nervousness.

"Y/N, please marry me and bake for me foreve-" Kuroo's head drops down immediately as you throw a fist against his head and has the whole team on the ground laughing. "Don't joke about that stuff.. I thought it actually tasted bad.." you mutter.

The team laughs as they get up and grab their slice and hold everything in them to not react the same when they had taken their bite. Kenma, who was sitting down and looking at his phone, is now in line as he curiously peeks over at the pie behind someone's shoulder.

"Ah! Kenma, do you want a slice?" You say as you point at the near-gone pie. He gives a slight nod which has you beam at him. Your smile was too wide for him and he had to look away to hide the slight fluster on his face. "Tell me what you think about it, I would really appreciate it!" you say as you hand him a perfect slice. He murmurs a quick and quiet 'thank you' before returning to the bench.

He stares at the sector as he slightly grimaces at the thought of his food in his stomach but he carefully uses his fork to pierce a small part of it. He puts it in his mouth and his eyes widen. He thought Kuroo was just trying to be a flirt and mess with you but his reaction was really no lie. That was the best apple pie he ever had and he goes back for another bite. His eyes glinted at the taste of fresh apple as well as the kisses of cinnamon and he couldn't help but smile. He was so busy indulging in the desert that he didn't notice you sitting next to him.

"How was it?" You say as you tilt your head to look at his face. He slightly jumps because he didn't notice you and looks down at his plate. It was... really good." Kenma’s voice softened, and a faint pink tinged his cheeks as he added, "Apple pie is my favorite. A large smile becomes plastered on your face. You knew that he never really ate your food because you presented them at the wrong time but you couldn't help but be so happy that he enjoyed it.

"I'm so glad to hear that! I'll definitely make it for you guys again." You say with a determined look. Kenma nods as you sit up and join with the others as he looks down at his empty plate with not a hurting stomach, but a fluttering heart.

After that day, you continued to make more treats and Kenma started to eat more of them. Your cooking, for some reason, never hurt his stomach and he enjoyed you talking to him asking for his opinion.

"Kenma, how do you like it?" You say sitting down next to him as he takes another bite of your onigiri that you had made for post-practice. "It's really good.. I never really eat these but they are really good.." he says honestly. You smile and you lean back against the bench. "You can tell me if it doesn't taste good though, I need more feedback than just that! I promise my feelings won't hurt." You say but then Kenma sits up right before looking into your eyes.

"No.. I promise your food is always really good. It doesn't make my stomach hurt and it's really delicious. I'm being honest." He slightly glances at the ground, embarrassed at his confession.

You were surprised. That was the first time you had heard so much come out of him and you had tried to make small conversation since you joined. You gently take his hands and you cup them into yours and he looks up flustered. "That means so much coming from you Kenma, thank you so much." You say as your eyes glint and the corners of your mouth curl. Kenma looks down at the ground quickly so his hair could cover his pink hued face and he tries to keep down the thumping in his chest. "Y-yeah, no problem." He says weakly. You continued to sit next to him as you talked about other things in which he replied his best without showing his flustered state.

Every time you brought something, you immediately took place next to Kenma as he held a plate and started a conversation with him. He didn't hate it, but he hated the fact that he couldn't stop being flustered by you. He still participated in the conversations and slowly, you both got close to one another. You talked to him in the halls and before and after practices. Slowly he became more confident talking to you. While his confidence grew, so did his feelings for you.

"You like Y/N, don't you?" Kuroo says as he looks out the school window. Kenma suddenly loses his game that he was playing on his phone and he slowly turns to horrifically look up at the black haired man. "N-no-" "Don't even try hiding it," Kuroo smirks. "You seem to really like her. You should confess to her, bake her something cute!" Kenma looks down, embarrassed that he could have been so obvious about his feelings for you. He begins to worry that the others had noticed but then he actually considers his suggestion of confessing.

"I don't know how to.." he mumbles into his hair. "Look up youtube videos, you're smart!" Kuroo smirks wider. Kenma grumbles with annoyance but Kuroo didn’t know that later that night, he began to watch baking tutorials.

Slightly determined and motivated with adrenaline, he puts on his mom's apron and ties his hair in a half ponytail bun and sets out his ingredients. 3 hours later, he had 3 batches of burnt, liquid, or dry cake. He unties his apron angrily as he tries to give up but stops. He really likes you and wants to show it to you so he puts the apron back on and shyly asks his mom if she could help him. After hours of frustration and a little help from his mom, Kenma finally had a cake he was proud of.

The next day is a Saturday. Last night, he nervously texted you to ensure you would be home and not busy. To his relief you weren't and he took the cake out of the fridge and put it in a cake case. His emotions were slowly bubbling up inside of him, and he felt like his stomach was about to hurt, so he decided that he would get to your house quickly. What if he ruins your friendship? What if you reject him? Thoughts slowly crept up on him as he was walking towards your house.

Kenma stared at the cake in his hands. ‘What if Y/N doesn’t like it? What if she laughs? Or worse… what if she feels sorry for me?’ Thoughts begin to emerge in his head and then suddenly he arrives at your door. He snapped out of it and slowly reached for the doorbell. He looks down at his feet and then suddenly the door opens which has him popup also. "Kenma? What're you doing here?" No matter how close you had become, he couldn't help but become shy as you stood with the door open in your loungewear.

"I.. I just.. Well I just wanted.. To.." Kenma mutters out. Too nervous to declare the words he had practiced so hard the night before.

You smile at him as you waited for his words to come out. You were always so patient with him, his heart couldn't help but to pound a bit more against his ribs. He really didn’t want to mess this up with you. He wanted to show you how he really felt.

After what he feels like is forever, he takes a deep breath and gathers all the confidence he had left in his body.

Kenma shifted on his feet, his voice barely above a whisper. “I really... I really like you, Y/N.” His eyes fixed on the ground as if afraid to meet hers. He slightly extends the baked good in his hands. "I baked this cake for you because I wanted to show you that.. You really mean a lot to me. I really.. really like you." 

He closes his eyes and you don't say anything back. The silence almost shatters his heart and panic immediately rises in his chest as he thinks of the worst. He suddenly just wishes he would just disappear or a hole would appear to consume him. This was definitely not what he had prepared himself for.

He starts to take the cake back in but then it gets taken from his hands suddenly. He looks up only to be enveloped in a big hug. Your arms wrap around him as your face hides within the curve of his neck. His eyes widen as he accidentally breathes in the scent of your hair somewhat calming him a bit down. He stood shocked and flustered and slowly let his arms wrap around you and he reciprocated by furrowing his face into the crevice of your neck.

You pull back with a wistful smile as you tuck away a strand of his bleached hair that had gotten in front of his face. "I like you too, Kenma. A lot." His eyes widen and his heart feels like it's about to soar. Your smile suffocates him and he couldn’t believe you liked him back. His throat clenches up because he feels like he's about to cry because he's never felt this kind of way before.

“Really?” He questions. “Really.” You lean forwards to deliver a kiss on his cheek to confirm it and it becomes your turn to be flustered. “I’ve liked you for a while Kenma and I was just surprised that you had confessed first..” He finally starts to breathe and the air tasted so fresh that he felt his lungs had become new again. His arms are wrapped around you again for another hug and you are both standing at the door for what seems like an eternity. Slowly, you both pull back and you pick up the cake that you had set aside. 

"Come in," You say with a wide smile. "Let's enjoy the cake together."

It has been a long time since Kenma has smiled so widely.

He nods. "Okay."

[toa-archive]

Skrael Design Path

Rolling onward to the second of these Arcane Order closer looks and this time it's Skrael at the helm! As ever with these it is far from impossible something else will belatedly turn up. Should this occur, wherever it is added will have a [/edit xx/xx/xxxx] which includes a date marker. Just makes it easier to find the “new” thing :)

Given Skrael is often written by many fic writers as He/They, suppose we got some more non-binary wrongs going on. All for a good cause tho, right?

Skrael is unusual of the three in that his design, from what work is public, was cemented pretty early on. Still, Francisco Ruiz Velasco did have his own stab at a bunch of wizards which are nigh impossible to pin down if it was for any of the Arcane Trio specifically or not. This one will very understandably appear in all three as there could well be a Skrael potential here.

Source goes to Linkedin so may require an account.

According to Yingjue Chen who drew the below Ice Wizard designs, Sean Murray did a sketch which the most Skrael looking one is based. It's a pretty low chance of said sketch ever turning up but you never know.

Source

A coloured version of this very Skrael looking Skrael is also shown in the Art of Wizards panel on the height comparison chart too.

From there comes his final design plus quite literal gesture sketches. These are again by Yingjue Chen!

Source

Skrael next pops up in the hands of Betsy Bauer for his paint and turn around which much like Bellroc is a reference goldmine. He is no longer on her website but you can check out other things she did for ToA here.

Decided to add a trio of bonuses just for fun. You might have noticed the Order pops up in the Wizards credits sequence though unlike Trollhunters and 3Below, it is not Headless Studios. They were drawn in a similar way though! They are by Alison Donato.

Source

This is also a great excuse to yet again break out Francisco Ruiz Velasco's Order band poster again! In part due to him only appearing in colour keys for RotT otherwise.

Source goes to Linkedin so may require an account.

Of all the Order for some reason there's a lot of detail for Skrael's staff. Starting off we have the painted concepts by Yingjue Chen which we lack for Bellroc at this time.

Source

And from theeeere we have a whole bunch from Alison Donato including callouts! The small and texture free Skrael model resized for height comparison purposes will have been made at Leo Sanchez Studios.

Source

Source

Source

On the more magical front there is a tiny screenshot from the Art of Wizards panel which shows the magic effects for Skrael. It is unknown who the other images including what could be the ice bridge belong to however -

We do have a bigger version of the left image which we know is by Yingjue Chen! Aren’t effects neat?

Source

[/Edit 13/02/2025] The following was missed due to no obvious note of what it is on the original tweet this version is from and it's being added in now. This is the spell effect combining Bellroc, Skrael and the Green Knight's power into a single shot! It is by Isaac Orloff.

Source

Poking Rise of the Titans a moment, thanks to Andy Murray we have the glow up eye effect for Skrael. This has been cropped from a larger image for fitting this post reasons only.

Source

And for fun since we also have it, this is the Arcane Circle for Skrael which is shown on the Ice Titan. The Genesis Seal marker is on the same row as Bellroc so is not shown here. As above it has been cropped for fitting this post reasons only. This time they are by Sean Wang.

Source

Much like Nari, we do actually know what Skrael's development name: Thule! They're not in the most easy to spot place mind and likely why many have missed it over the years. One of them is in Alison Donato's file names on her website like so:

The other location is on one of the Felix Yang sequences that hasn't been converted from nyoom status yet. In this case, yeah you have to be very lucky to spot it:

It can can be found Here.

When all three posts are up there will be a link here to the other two members. For now it is a half completed placeholder:

Bellroc - Nari - Skrael

[lj-lephemstar]

Progress Checkup! (Jan. 2025) | Scratchin' Melodii Devlog

Hey guys! Time for another progress checkup; This is actually the first one of the new year! I hope you were all able to enjoy the holidays. I took a bit of a break from working on most stuff last month and have been getting back on things this month. First, I wanna thank everyone who's wishlisted Scratchin' Melodii on Steam! So far, the game's gotten over 17,000 wishlists! Thanks so much for the support!

In the previous devlog, I mentioned some changes to the rhythm system. In the Dragon Funk preview, you can see the new rhythm system and character icons I mentioned in the previous devlog! Actually, let's unpack some of the new things you're seeing in action there:

Hold Notes This is the first song in the game to include hold-notes! They mostly work the same as they would in any other rhythm game. However, since this game has an emphasis on self expression, moving the control stick during these will let you tune the note's pitch-bend for extra expression points! I showed that off in a post here. As for Pow Notes, I've been working on a way to let the player get expression points from these too! I'd like for most of the special notes like these to be not just a gimmick, but a tool that the player can use to their advantage.

Quadruple Lines Yep! The first blue line in this one is extra long and has 4 rows! Fun fact actually, I had to implement this feature after I realized that part of the song was too long to fit in just two rows. It was pretty difficult to figure out both how to do it and how to execute it in a way that doesn't feel too jarring, but I'm pretty satisfied with the results! In fact, barely anyone's even noticed it; I guess that's just how natural it feels! Not sure how much more often I'll be having lines longer than two rows, but it's great that I have the option now.

AutoPlay You might also notice that the player inputs are perfectly timed... TOO perfect... that's because I've developed an autoplay feature for the game! At the moment, it's mostly for debugging and stuff, but if all goes according to plan, AutoPlay Mode and Replays should hopefully be available to players as well in some form when the game comes out!

"Next" Indicator & Other UI Related QoL Some of the top things players said they had trouble with in the demo were related to being prepared for the next line. So, if you look at the right-end of the rhythm bars, you'll see a little tab that shows the color and amount of rows the next line will have! Also, now each line's suggested notes can be seen before the rival performs them. This did take some thought, as I actually kinda still liked the idea of it appearing as if the characters were making it up on the spot, but to put game design first, it makes more sense to have it displayed as soon as possible so the player has more time to react and prepare. This also opens up more possibilities for future mechanics, so in the long run, I think I've made the best choice here.

Now, let's get into what I've been and/or will be working on that you haven't seen yet!

Act 2's Boss The music for the Act 2 Boss is  nearly complete! I'll likely be starting to animate it pretty soon. This song is the longest one I've done so far, clocking at a duration of a little over 3 minutes long!

More Animation Updates for Stir & Mix At this point, I've done even more cleanups on the sequence you saw in the last devlog and I've finished animating the "I wanna" scene of the song, which will probably have the most changes out of any other scene in the song. When I first animated Stir & Mix, I didn't quite have the time or skills to do everything I really wanted to do with it. That scene in particular I felt was WAY too stiff and boring, especially compared to the more dynamic and fluid scenes that appear in some of the other the stages now. I'd say I'm about halfway done retouching all the animations for this one!

Refined Model Sheets I don't talk about these very often, but sometime around 2023 I started using model/reference sheets for the characters. (I might show them off someday, but for now they're staying private!) Before this point, the designs are pretty inconsistent from shot to shot, so this helped a lot with that. Recently, I've done some revisions I'm really pleased with. Their designs are finally becoming... well, final! I'll be reworking the affected characters' hub world sprites at some point to reflect these changes.

Slight Reworks for some Act 1 Songs On the sound side, Stir & Mix's vocals have been reworked again! As I've mentioned in the previous devlog, 2cada's tuning style and techniques have evolved a bit since we first started working together, so we thought it'd be fun to go back and incorporate some of that into it. We'll also probably be reworking the structure of Nami's song a little bit at some point just to make it a feel a bit more solid, which may require a new line or two from her voice actor, Meggie-Elise! So funnily enough, it seems some of the songs will have end up having TWO unused beta versions after this.

Also, a quick PSA: Please note that beta versions of content will NOT be included in the full game. I've heard people ask for them to be "brought back" or toggleable, but in my situation something like that is both easier said than done and I also just... don't want to LOL. With as many directions I can take this game, I know I can't satisfy everyone, but I can make a game that satisfies me, so I'm aiming for that! And hey, maybe other people will like it too.

I think that's all I wanna talk about for now! Thanks so much for reading. It can be a bit of a daunting task to write these at times, but I'm glad to keep you up to date on the project when I can.

-LJ

[gnocchibabie]

Desire and Blood (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Strong OC (Jaenara Velaryon)

Tags: AU - canon divergence, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, Targcest (uncle/niece)

Wordcount: 5.3k

Summary:

Against all odds, the love between childhood friends prevails and the Dance of Dragons is avoided.

However, peace comes at a cost. With the unexpected proposal of marriage between Alicent Hightower's son and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter, can love truly blossom between sworn enemies? Or will Jaenara Velaryon be reduced to a mere pawn?

Love may yet arise where enmity once thrived, but Aemond's relentless pursuit of power threatens to shatter everything they hold dear, including each other.

A/N: You can find the previous chapters on my masterlist!

If you are liking this series, please consider showing some love on my AO3 posting of this fic :) thank you x

The day had finally come for Rhaenyra Targaryen to officially ascend the Iron Throne. Jaenara had scarcely slept the night before, anxiety gripping her tight and threatening to plague her sleep with nightmares of all that could go wrong. A last minute attempt at usurpation. An outspoken Lord or Lady laying doubt to her claim during the ceremony. The possibility of her mother’s flesh slicing upon upon taking her seat on the throne.

 Jaenara sat by the window in her bedchamber, watching as the sun began to rise in the horizon, vibrant hues of orange, pink, and yellow coating the rooftops of King’s Landing. The young princess already felt exhausted thinking of all the lords and lady’s that would soon descend upon the Red Keep to behold her mother’s crowning. All the smiling and curtseying and pleasantries she would have to afford the visitors. But this was surely a historic and unprecedented occasion for them - a woman sitting the Iron Throne. A woman, they would bend the knee to. 

She took delight in the thought. Better her mother than her drunken, spineless uncle, who had never taken any kind of interest in matters of politics. She dared to guess that Aegon would take little delight in sitting in on her mother’s council in the coming days, despite the Queen extending this kindness to him. The most happiness he would find from the crowning of his half-sister was all the wine he’d be able to drink come the coronation feast that evening.

As Jaenara watched the citizens of King’s Landing trickle out of their houses and flood the streets below, readying to begin their days, she recentered her thoughts. Rhaenyra Targaryen would soon mount the most powerful seat in Westeros. And Jacaerys would one day follow suit. 

And I will take over Dragonstone. The princess was unsure of what to feel at the thought. It was a position she felt honored to hold, knowing that her mother had entrusted her with maintaining the ancestral seat of House Targaryen. Jace had even graciously given up his claim to it, so that Jaenara and Aemond — though mostly Aemond — would not feel as though they had been slighted during the negotiations that were held when debating the succession. 

And Jaenara would make a fine princess of Dragonstone — she had thought at least. For as long as Jaenara could remember, Rhaenyra had made a great effort to raise her children amidst politics and histories of the realm, preparing them to one day hold positions of power themselves. Her mother had always felt bitter about the fact that Viserys had never extended the same teaching to her when she was a young heir. She would not let her children suffer the same disadvantage.

The princess pictures herself sitting on the Dragonstone throne, a seat she had passed by many times, never imagining she would ever actually sit upon it. Jaenara wonders what the cold Valyrian stone which the throne was cut from will feel like under her touch. She imagines Aemond Targaryen, as her husband — the prince of Dragonstone, standing at her side. Her uncle had been taught just as she had, prepared to hold great status. Prepared to rule. Though she dares to guess it had played out much differently than he had ever imagined. But Jaenara understood the intelligence Aemond held and the skill he wielded. 

She can almost feel his hand on her shoulder, his warmth at her side, cold steel adorning his hip.

As much as she hated to admit it, Jaenara thought Aemond would fit in quite well at Dragonstone. The castle was quite grim and dreary, though it was rich with Valyrian history and architecture. Something she was sure her uncle would appreciate. That and well — he was quite grim and dreary himself. 

The sun had risen even higher in the sky when Jaenara’s handmaidens came knocking at her door, eager to dress the princess for this momentous day. 

“Come in.” She answers, without turning from the window, both apprehensive to begin the whirlwind of a day and simply captivated by the morning sky. 

Alora tiptoes through the doors of the princess’ chambers, followed by a few other companions. “Goodmorning, Jaenara!” She addresses her rather chirpily. Jaenara thinks she is much more excited for the festivities than she herself.

Jaenara finally rises from her seat by the window and walks over to meet her company, “Good morning, ladies,” she regards them politely, attempting to quell the anxiety bubbling within her, “I suppose we should begin.”

The maids set off to work, running the princess a warm bath. Jaenara lowers herself into the tub, relishing in the warmth that envelopes her. She sinks into the recesses of the bathtub, holding her breath and allowing the water to soak into her hair. When she finally resurfaces, the women start to scrub her head to toe. Her hair is then thoroughly washed, with oils and perfumes being sprinkled onto the black curls. Jaenara steps out of the bath, drying herself and letting Alora brush out the hair. As the young girl brushes out the tangles, Jaenara hopes that the water has rinsed away the unease that is surely evident on her features.

The princess is then covered in a flowing dress adorning the colors of House Targaryen. Scarlet cloth decorated with black embroidery resembling dragon scales adorns her figure. A golden belt bearing the sigil of Jaenara’s house is fastened around her waist. She shakes her hips and hears the belt quietly jingle, a giggle leaving her. She regards herself in the mirror a moment.

“Beautiful, my princess,” Alora’s smiling gaze meeting her own in the reflection. Jaenara offers a small smile back. 

I wonder if Aemond will think the same.

It takes Jaenara a moment to truly realize the thought that had crossed her mind. The princess shakes her head, as if to physically shake the question from her thoughts. What had gotten into her? She asserted that it mattered not what he thought.

Her attention turns back to the matter at hand when her handmaidens begin to brush through her hair once more. Long, winding sections of her dark hair are weaved together and made to form a bun atop her head, with some sections of braided hair left to fall below.

Finally, a golden headpiece embellished with gems is placed atop her head, mingling with her curls. “Oh?” Jaenara voices, “What’s this?” She turns once more to face her reflection in the mirror.

“The Queen has picked this out herself, Jaenara.” Alora answers, taking a step back from the princess to admire her work. “She tells us this is the headpiece she wore when she was near your own age — during the ceremony in which the late king named her heir.”

Jaenara can feel her heart swell from the admission. Tears threaten to well up into her eyes, though she forces them back down. She looks herself over, and sees her mother staring back at her. 

Letting out a shaky breath, Jaenara turns to her attendants, “I must thank you ladies, you have somehow managed to make me look presentable.” The women begin to laugh together when a knock is heard upon the princess’ door. 

“Yes?” The princess answers.

When the door opens and Jaenara sees her mother, she is quick to dismiss her handmaidens. “Thank you all — that will be all for now.”

The maids give a quick curtsy to the queen, with a few muttering a polite “Your Grace” as they filed out of the chamber.

Rhaenyra Targaryen stares at her daughter breathlessly, and wonders how eighteen years had slipped past her so quickly. She sees herself staring back at her, looking like a true Targaryen princess. She sees the ghost of her past lover, Ser Harwin Strong, his features etched onto her face — his spirit intertwined within their daughter’s. And though she shares no blood with Laenor Velaryon, she finds herself wishing the girl’s “father” could see the fine young woman he had helped her to become. 

“Mother,” Jaenara’s voice quivers.

Amidst the privacy of her chambers, Rhaenyra Targaryen embraces her daughter. “My Nara, my girl.”

Jaenara’s emotions soar once more and she lets a single tear escape. She pulls back from her mother after a moment, looking the Queen up and down. Her attire and beauty paled in comparison to her mother’s. The epitome of Targaryen elegance stood before her — the only thing that could possibly complete the look would be the crown soon to grace Rhaenyra’s head.

“You look beautiful — like a Queen.” Jaenara expressed. Rhaenyra smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Jaenara quickly picks up on the mounting anxiety her own mother is feeling at the moment. She could not begin to fathom what it must feel like holding the entire realm on your shoulders. Jaenara takes a hold of her mother’s hands, and tries to be her strength. 

“You are ready for this, mother. It is your birthright. And when you are officially crowned, the realm will be the better for it.” Lavender eyes meet violet, as Jaenara finishes with, “I am proud to call myself your daughter.” 

Rhaenyra lets out a shaky breath, bogged down by emotion. She fiercely looks her daughter in the eyes, “I know I am soon to sit the Iron Throne but…but being your mother — being all of you children’s mother…is my proudest accomplishment.”

She puts a hand on the back of her daughter’s hand, careful not to ruin the braid her servants had diligently crafted, and pulls her forehead to her lips.

“We’d better get going, my sweet daughter.” She smiles down at her.

And so they do.

— — —

Aemond Targaryen stands at the head of the Great Hall, next to his siblings and mother, awaiting the entrance of his half-sister. His half-sister, the Queen. Prince Aemond could scarcely believe the day had finally come, though he knew it was inevitable given their father’s true intentions regarding who should succeed him. There was no denying it — much to the dismay of some people within his court, and even within Aemond’s own family. 

Otto Hightower, knowing that Rhaenyra had no place for him on the small council — or rather, knowing he could not puppeteer Rhaenyra as he had her father — had since returned to Oldtown. Aemond found that he felt relieved from the absence of his grandsire, and swore his mother shared a similar sentiment. 

Daylight from a cloudless sky now flooded into the Great Hall, illuminating tapestries depicting the histories of House Targaryen. Aemond’s ancestors stared down upon him, and he felt the weight of their unyielding gaze. 

He looked out into the crowd, the hall filled to the brim with noblemen and ladies who had all traveled far to attend the occasion. All to see the first Queen of the Seven Kingdoms be crowned. 

In truth, Aemond did not know how to feel at seeing Rhaenyra be crowned. He was nothing if not realistic, and he realistically understood that seating Aegon upon the Iron Throne would throw the realm into disarray and plunge House Targaryen into a war — one that would surely have been bloody. But when he saw his half-sister, he saw someone unworthy of sitting the throne — unfit to rule. 

If Aemond had been born before Aegon, he would not have yielded his birthright so easily. But there was still time yet to fight for some semblance of power, even if it was less than what he thought he deserved. The sapphire under his eyepatch feels hot. Just thinking about it all, made his scar itch and burn.

“What are you thinking about, brother?” Helaena’s soft voice calls Aemond away from his troubled thoughts. The burning dissipates to a dull throb. His sister stands next to him and regards him with a curious look.

“I am just eager for this ceremony to conclude…I suppose.” He answers Helaena, and it is not entirely a lie. 

“You and I both,” she says, adding, “Jaenara said she would stand next to me during the ceremony, so that we may ease each other’s nerves. I think I would quite like her company.”

Aemond hums thoughtfully. It is not so often that Helaena enjoyed the presence of others. Now it is Aegon’s turn to pipe up from the other side of Aemond, “Where are they? Does she really mean to keep us waiting up here so long?.” He whispers bitterly to anyone in his family who cared to listen.

“The Queen and her family will be here in a moment. They wanted to allow enough time for guests to trickle in. I did not think simply standing would be so taxing for you, Aegon.” Alicent tries to defend her friend. 

Aegon makes a face and rolls his eyes. “She is not Queen yet.” Aegon’s attempt to demean his half-sister falls upon deaf ears as the doors to the Great Hall are swung open, all eyes in the room following the commotion.

The air crackled with anticipation as low whispers broke out amongst the crowd. 

Through the parted doors, a procession of men carrying the banners of House Targaryen walked the length of the Great Hall, parting at each side once they reached the base of the Iron Throne. Behind them, Rhaenyra’s family began to trickle in. Daemon led the procession, looking composed and smug as ever, Dark Sister hung at his side. He takes his place next to the throne, where his wife will soon sit. Aemond looks at the man with great interest, considering how he too will soon stand beside his own wife as she sits upon a throne.

Daemon is then followed closely by Rhaenyra’s bastard children and their betrothed. Jacaerys and Baela walk side by side, as Lucerys and Rhaena march behind them. They take their places on the opposite side of the aisle where Aemond and his siblings stand. 

Finally, Aemond sees Jaenara, who trailed behind her brothers. She holds hands with little Joffrey, guiding him through the long stretch of the Great Hall. As his niece draws nearer, Aemond finds it difficult to tear his eye away from her. She looked….

Aemond found it impossible to settle on a word that encapsulated his niece’s beauty.

Bewitching. 

That felt as right a word as any — it was the only explanation as to why she had enraptured him so. Looking at his niece filled Aemond with a bittersweet ache. 

Amidst her beauty, Aemond watches Jaenara bite her lip — a nervous habit she had exhibited even in their youth. Surely, it would bleed or bruise in time. 

He wishes she would not ruin such beautiful lips. 

After what feels like an eternity of watching his niece, Jaenara finally reaches the summit of the Iron Throne, and stands next to Helaena, bridging the gap between the Targaryen-Velaryons and Targaryen-Hightowers. Jaenara and her aunt share thoughtful expressions, clearly pleased to be in each other’s company. 

Standing with her family at the head of the crowd, Jaenara could practically feel the weight of history in the air, the echoes of generations past and the hopes of those yet to come.

Aemond is still looking at Jaenara, who is clearly still caught up in the moment of the ceremony, when the procession turns his attention to the doors once more. 

Rhaenyra Targaryen, a picture of resplendent Targaryen nobility, begins her descent to the Iron Throne. Jaenara feels breathless watching her mother, squeezing Joffrey’s shoulders perhaps a touch too hard. The entire Great Hall has fallen into dead silence, contrasting the tumult the princess feels echoing in her head. As Rhaenyra ascended the steps to the dais, her movements were graceful and deliberate, a testament to the years of preparation and the weight of responsibility she bore. 

All heads are turned to Rhaenyra when she finally takes her seat. The High Septon, clad in his flowing robes of office, stepped forward to greet her, holding aloft the ancient crown of Aegon the Conqueror, symbol of the authority she was about to claim. His voice, resonant and filled with solemnity, carried through the hall as he spoke the words of blessing and investiture, reaffirming her right to rule as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. The crown was lowered onto Rhaenyra's brow, its golden spires gleaming in the torchlight, casting shadows across her features. 

Jaenara's gaze was fixed unwaveringly upon her mother. The crown seemed to ignite with a radiant light, casting a halo around her mother's head. In that moment, Jaenara felt a surge of pride so strong it brought tears to her eyes. Her mother, who had guided her with unwavering strength, would now lead the Seven Kingdoms with this same strength. Her mother, who had taught her of duty and honor, would now rule the Realm with such values. It was a moment Jaenara had dreamed of, yet seeing it unfold before her eyes filled her with a quiet reverence she couldn't quite put into words.

A murmur of reverence and respect rippled through the gathered nobles, their voices blending into a chorus of acclaim as they acknowledged her ascension.

The High Septon’s voice echoes throughout The Great Hall: “All hail Rhaenyra Targaryen — Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” 

With the crown in place, Rhaenyra turned to face her subjects, her expression a mix of determination and humility. She raised her hands in acknowledgement, and the hall erupted into applause and cheers, the sound echoing off the high vaulted ceilings.

The Realm’s Delight had officially been crowned Queen. 

“Long live the Queen!” someone at the back of the hall shouts. Soon, the entire room booms together in uproarious unity: “Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen!”

Amidst the celebration, Aemond Targaryen watched from his place among the assembled nobility, his thoughts a swirl of uncertainty and cautious optimism. Beside him, his siblings exchanged meaningful glances, their expressions reflecting the weight of the moment.

Jaenara shared glances with her party, and soon met Aemond’s eyes. The prince could practically feel the palpable pride and joy spilling out from his niece. He gives her a small nod and returns his attention to the thunderous crowd before them.

Shouts of praise for Westeros’ new Queen continue to swell around them, threatening to blow the ceiling off of the Red Keep.

— — —

Servants of the Red Keep had swiftly reorganized the Great Hall to accommodate approximately a thousand lords and ladies for Rhaenyra’s enthronement reception. Jaenara Velaryon now sat at one of the expansive wooden tables, absentmindedly sipping her wine and wincing when it stung her bitten lip. Beside her was her twin, Jacaerys, and on the other side, Aemond Targaryen. Warm candlelight bathed the chamber, casting dancing shadows across the faces of all the attendees. Jaenara stole a few glances at her uncle, observing how the interplay of shadow and light accentuated his sharp features.

Aemond’s silver-white hair cascaded loosely as usual — the princess once again finding herself envious of the hallmark Targaryen attribute. Her eyes drifted down to his figure. Since the truce had been brokered, Aemond had taken to wearing black instead of his usual green. His cloak, adorned with subtle red stitching, draped elegantly, and a leather belt hung at his waist. Jaenara decided she should redirect her thoughts elsewhere.

The guests — as well as Jaenara and her family have mostly finished with the meal that was set before them. Still feeling high from the excitement of the day, Jaenara turns to Aemond, “You have been awfully quiet, uncle.”

The prince smiles wryly, “It is a…surreal time. I am simply absorbing the day’s events.” In truth, Aemond had been mentally revisiting his plans for what felt like the hundredth time. With his half-sister now officially Queen, his marriage to Jaenara would soon follow. Once they were wed, their fates would be intertwined. And then, he mused to himself, he could deal with Jacaerys...

Aemond imagines the light leaving his nephews copper brown eyes. He blinks and they are replaced with the cool lavender ones beside him. 

He grimaces and takes a swig of wine. 

Music has begun to trickle throughout the hall, no doubt in an effort to continue the festivities of the day. A surprise to everyone at the table, Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen rise to their feet, making their way to the clearing in the middle of the chamber.

“Mother?” Lucerys scoffs incredulously.

The Queen shoots her children a look, but it is difficult to hide the smile spreading across her face. “Come on, all of you. We should inspire a bit of merriment.”

Balea and Rhaena break out into a fit of giggles, rising to their feet. Jace and Luke share a glance, looking bashful. Lords and ladies seem delighted at the sight of the royal family taking to the floor. Throughout the hall, guests begin to follow suit, flooding the chamber floor. 

The music swells as couples dance arm in arm. Jaenara has to take another sip of her wine to hide her shock from seeing even Aegon and Helaena descend upon the floor — her aunt thankfully looking mildly content. The princess winces once more as the wine mingles with the fresh gash on her lips. 

“You should put an end to that habit of yours.” a low voice mumbles to her.

Jaenara looks to her right and sees Aemond on his feet, offering her a hand. 

The princess lets out a little chuckle and waves her uncle off. Aemond seems to deflate ever so slightly at his niece’s dismissal, though his hand remains extended.

Jaenara’s laughter ceases, “Truly?” she asks.

“Well if you would prefer to remain at this empty table,” he looks around, “we may do that.”

Jaenara feels a surprising nervousness overtake her as she places her hand in Aemond’s. His large hand engulfs hers as he gently pulls her to her feet. She takes a moment to notice the callouses on this palm, surely a result of gripping the pommel of his sword. She runs her thumb over the rough patch of skin and Aemond almost shivers.

The princess feels her heart pounding in her throat as they approach the dance floor. Standing before Aemond, she hesitates, uncertain how to start. He clears his throat and gently encircles her waist with his hands. Jaenara's heart quickens even more—almost unbelievably—as she cautiously rests her hands on Aemond’s shoulders.

A lump swells in the prince's throat as Jaenara draws near, the intimate proximity unnerving him. He worries she might sense his racing heart. He speaks to her, hoping his words betray nothing of his physical turmoil.

“We must keep up appearances, niece. Even my brother and sister are dancing together.” Aemond looks down on her, noticing the quick rise and fall of her chest. He figured that was how Jaenara felt — they were simply playing their part.

But Jaenara feels a twinge of disappointment upon hearing this, and does little to hide it. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she responded, rather quietly, “Oh…yes, yes of course…”

A melody of strings fills the silence between the couple as they clumsily guide across the floor. Jaenara, as Aemond noticed, was much more skilled in dancing than he was. She was able to flit around with a certain grace, while he found himself unsure of where to step. At one point, he steps on her foot. 

Jaenara lets out a quick and quiet yelp at the sudden feeling, and she swears she sees Aemond’s cheeks turn pink. “Apologies,” he mutters. 

Despite his sore lack of dancing skills and the dull throb in her foot, Jaenara feels a smug grin pull across her face. 

“You’re not one for dancing I see. How brave of you to take me as a dance partner…I’m afraid my skills are lackluster as well.” She teases, though she attempts to calm her uncle’s nerves. 

Aemond scoffs, “If your skills are unpolished, then mine are nonexistent.”

“Doesn’t all that fancy swordplay make you light on your feet? Surely some of those skills are transferable.” Jaenara tells her uncle.

“This is nothing like that…” Aemond quips.

Jaenara’s laughter echoes through the crowd as she observes Aemond's awkwardness. He feels a twinge of embarrassment at the attention she garners, yet he can't help but admire the joy evident on his betrothed's face.

He savored this. Aemond took pleasure in eliciting genuine laughter and happiness from Jaenara—not the forced, empty laughs she gives when he says things he regrets later. Making her happy brought him joy.

Jaenara was laughing and smiling and happy and warm and in his arms. 

And she had no idea the atrocities that Aemond was planning. 

And what does that make me? He wonders. 

The music permeating through the chamber begins to change, an apparent signal for the couples around them to switch dancing partners. 

“Brother!” Aegon’s voice finds Aemond and Jaenara, “It seems it is time to swap!” Without giving anyone a chance to retort, Aegon takes Jaenara’s hand in his. Helaena settles in between Aemond’s arms as they both watch their brother whisk away the princess. . 

“Mittys” Aemond mutters.

“I am surprised to see you out on the dance floor, Aemond.” Helaena examines her brother curiously. 

“I could say the same to you,” he retorts, coming off a touch too defensive. Helaena raises an eyebrow, to with Aemond then adds, “Jaenara…wished to dance.”

His sister seems unconvinced. “Right…”

Aemond watches Jaenara and Aegon from across the ballroom. His brother's hands are settled on Jaenara’s waist, where his hands once lay. Her own hands are hesitantly perched atop his shoulders. Aemond experiences a hot, uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach as he watches them dance. His gaze is fixed on the couple, his lips pressed into a tight line, brows furrowed. Nearby, Helaena sways dreamily, noticing Aemond's expression and struggling to conceal a small smile.

He watches mouths move, trying best to read their lips. Jaenara appears unexpectedly at ease now, and Aegon grinned wolfishly at his niece. It takes Aemond a great deal of willpower not to leave his sister’s side when he sees Jaenara laugh at some remark Aegon had made. His brother glances towards Aemond's position on the dance floor and sends him a wink.

Must he have everything? Aemond finally finds the resolve to stomp over to Jaenara and Aegon.

“It seems this song has ended, let us return to each other.” He says shortly, glaring at Aegon.

“Why the haste, brother? We were just getting started!” Aegon’s amusement at his brother’s jealousy was evident by the smug grin on his face.

Jealousy? Surely that was not it. Aemond found it impossible for himself to be jealous over such a trivial matter. Jaenara was her own lady, free to do what she wanted — especially when they had established that this relationship was merely transactional. 

But he did feel jealous. Especially when it involved his elder brother. 

Aemond takes his niece’s hand and guides her back to the other side of the room. He wordlessly reassumes his previous position, placing his hands on her waist and venturing to pull Jaenara slightly closer. The princess’ hands find their rest on his shoulders once more. 

"Helaena must have been terribly dull if you returned to me so swiftly for a dance," she muses.

Aemond decides not to meet her gaze, instead focusing on a corner of the chamber that lies straight ahead.

“What did you and Aegon speak of?” He asks quietly, not bothering to respond to her joke.

“Oh,” His niece sounds taken aback, “Nothing really. He asked me what I thought of the coronation. How I was feeling this evening. He was being surprisingly tame…perhaps the wine has dulled him for once…” A pause, “He made a joke about your ‘piss poor lack of dancing skills’ as he called them. But that is all.”

“Hmm.” Is all Aemond cares to respond with, as his gaze remains fixed on that empty corner of the room. 

Has he always been this…brooding? The princess asks herself. Jaenara’s hands squeeze on his shoulders slightly, attempting to recenter her uncle’s attention. It makes Aemond feel dizzy. He finally dares to look down at her.

To the prince, Jaenara’s headpiece looked like a golden halo nestled amongst her raven hair. His eyes soften.

Bewitching. 

“He can say what he likes.” He finally adds. 

“I would not let him.” Jaenara asserts firmly. “No one is allowed to disparage you but me.” She teases, hoping she has not crossed a line. She feels reassurance upon seeing a smirk crackle upon Aemond’s face. 

Jaenara was not sure what she was doing — acting like this. So carefree, so playful. Enjoying herself. Perhaps buoyed by the wine or the lingering elation from her mother's coronation. But all of the earlier worries of the day had momentarily melted away, and she found herself enjoying Aemond Targaryen’s company. 

Aemond and Jaenara eventually find themselves back at their family’s table, both having their fair share of dancing for the evening. The lords and ladies have begun to trickle out of the Red Keep for the evening, much to Aemond’s relief as he was beginning to feel tired from the day’s festivities. Though his fatigue was nothing compared to the exhaustion Jaenara felt; she was beginning to feel the consequences of staying awake the previous night. When Jaenara noticed her mother gesturing for her to join her at the end of the table, she whispered a quick remark to Aemond and rose to take her seat next to Rhaenyra. Aemond watched carefully as mother and daughter delighted in their conversation, Rhaenyra occasionally casting a glance in her half-brother's direction as they spoke.

Aemond huffed and took a drink from his cup. 

“Aemond.” Jacaerys said from across the table. The prince looks up to his nephew.

“Thank you,” Jace tells him, “for dancing with her. She likes to pretend she does not care for such frivolities. But she does.”

Aemond nodded in acknowledgment. He began to revel in the fact that Jace seemed to be warming up to him finally, when the man across from him spoke once more. 

“She likes to pretend she doesn't care about a lot of things, really…But it’s not true. You can always tell when she’s lying…” Jace adds, his eyes fixed on Aemond. An uncertain expression crossed his nephew’s face, hinting at some hidden knowledge.

Aemond seemed to grasp the implication.

Impossible.

He cleared his throat in a rather exaggerated manner and stood abruptly, causing his chair to scrape loudly against the floor. All heads at the table turned towards him.

"I... I am retiring for the night," he announced. He dared to glance at his half-sister, though he skillfully avoided the confused gaze of Jaenara. "Your Grace," he added, his voice strained. 

Rhaenyra returns the acknowledgement with a polite nod. 

Aemond strode out of the Great Hall, heading straight for his chambers. He wished for the dark corridors of the Red Keep to swallow him whole. The silence of the night was shattered by the echoing sound of another’s footsteps on the stone floor. He quickened his pace.

“Uncle!” A small voice called out behind him.

Damn it all.

Aemond does not need to turn around to know who has followed him, though he does stop and wait for her to catch up.

“Are you well?” Jaenara asks breathlessly.

He does not meet her eyes when he responds. “Just tired.” His tone is convincing, for he sounds exasperated.

Jaenara hesitated to address the obvious turmoil surrounding him, deciding to let it lie for now.

"Very well... Goodnight, uncle. Try to get some rest," she said, her tone teetering between sympathy and suspicion. When he didn't reply, the princess turned and began making her way back to the hall.

Aemond takes a glance over his shoulder, watching his betrothed safely return to the chamber.

“Goodnight, Jaenara.” he whispers into the stillness of the night.

a/n: this chapter felt a bit rushed to me but I just really wanted to get something out ahhhh. as for the next chapter...hehehe...

tags: @aleemendoza2425-blog @toodlesxcuddles

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! I'm planning to draw/write a character who, due to an accident, got quite a bit of scarring on her face and lost an eye. Would they need a prosthetic eye? While searching, everything I found included a step of "And then you'll get fitted for your prosthetic eye", making it sound as if everyone who loses an eye needs to have one, but what would happen if someone didn't? Additionally, would there be a difference between never wearing one and wearing one at first, then stopping?

Hey, thank you for your ask!

Generally it's considered beneficial to have something replace the eye because without it the eyelids will droop and the socket will shrink. It also (more importantly) protects the tissue that's left from things that could potentially get inside, which could cause infection. As far as I was able to research, the former is mostly aesthetic (in adults/people who finished growing, which I'm assuming your character is) but the latter is very important.

However; it doesn't necessarily need to be a prosthetic ("glass") eye - they're the most common option, but eye patches and conformers all protect the socket from debris and stuff just fine (in fact any kind of sealed eyewear probably would). Prosthetics and conformers are medically roughly the same while eye patches do nothing to help the socket or eyelids keep their original shape. (I made a very long post about eye patches but TLDR, I think they're too often associated with frustrating stereotypes and tropes.)

Prosthetic eyes are unfortunately extremely expensive and need professional regular care that a lot of people can't afford, so not everyone can use them. Conformers (basically big, transparent contacts) are an alternative that some people might choose. You can't really see them when they're inside the socket. Here is a very interesting video about conformers and prosthetics by Clay Butler. I wrote a video description and transcript here because the original doesn't have them. It explains a lot of things in a very comprehensible way from a first-person perspective. If you want something that makes sense other than a prosthetic this could be a great thing to consider.

If someone doesn't have anything to protect their socket, they risk infection and all the problems associated with it. So you technically could go fully bare, but it's less than ideal. I've also heard that the sensation of eyelid going over the eye socket is uncomfortable (because it's so bumpy) but I assume it depends on the person.

I believe that the difference between never wearing any protection and wearing-then-stopping would just be how fast the things I mentioned in the second paragraph would set in. So if your character recently stopped wearing a prosthetic or conformer, their general eye area would probably look more "normal" than if they never wore it at all.

Here's also the facial difference post that I always link for people making characters with facial scars, which might be helpful to you.

I hope this helps,

mod Sasza