#these sillies give me so much joy and on god I will tell their story even if I go at the pace of a Shuckle in that one hzn episode SKFSNDFN

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

"It certainly wouldn't be right to have this kind man's efforts go uncompensated, now would it, Jumpluff?" "Pluff-pluff!"

these troublemakers The dynamic Suicune-chasing duo returns in the next Destiny Bond update - currently in progress! 🎆✨

–> Check out the latest part here 🔷 –> New to the series? Follow from the start! 💜

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

˖✧ Through my eyes

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Karen explains Mary and Arthur's story to you. Saddened, you're convinced you could never compete with her until the man in question proves you wrong. ✦ Warnings/Tags: Self-depreciation from both sides, kissing, comfort, fluff. Reader has been with the gang for a year. Use of Y/N. ✦ Words: 2,8k ✦ a/n: This is the answer to this ask by the lovely @crystalofmoon19. I really hope you'll like it, dear! And thank you for your support, you've been really sweet to me and my work! As always, I got carried away and wrote way too much. And as always, please reach out to me if you spot any misspellings. Also idk why I made this in Colter, guess I just feel way too hot rn and want some fresh snow + Arthur's coat is perfect for comfort. Credits. Arthur's pic is from my playthrough. Other pics are not mine found them on Pinterest.

“And in the end, she rejected his proposal, then a few months later, sent him a letter telling she was marrying some wealthier gentleman!”

Your mouth hangs open in the air. Karen’s words enter through your ears and create a nice little nest for themselves in your brain. You had no idea. No idea Arthur had been this close to being married. That their relationship had been so strong, that, according to hearsays, he had reached his lowest after their break up, drunk most part of the day, fighting the rest of the time, obnoxious to everyone, even Dutch and Hosea.

“Y/N? You’re okay, there?” Karen asked you, disappointed her big reveal had left you reactionless.

You focused your gaze back on her. Her blonde hair is softly litten up by the setting sun, her breath exhaling a puff of steam as she breathes. Colter is a cold place, and it probably felt even colder because of the morose mood of the gang. You suddenly remember you’re supposed to be shocked. You are, of course, but in a very bad way. Not in an “Oh my God, I can’t believe this Karen, so much gossip!” kind of way.

How could you ever compete with that?

“Yeah, I’m alright. God, I had no idea so much happened between them.”

“Oh, trust me, it was definitely his biggest love story. Never saw him get into someone else after her. Not even Mary-Beth! Could you believe that?”

No, you couldn’t. You weren’t sure why but every word from Karen felt like an enormous stone falling into your belly and dragging you deeper and deeper into the sea. Your silly little crush on Arthur, when you first joined the gang a year ago, had turned into a way stronger attraction. Denying it at first, you had little by little let your emotions win, cherishing every moment with him, thanking Dutch for assigning both of you to the same missions, loving the quiet evenings where he would just sit next to you around the campfire to scribble in his journal while you would do your little hobby on your own. Silent most, but enjoying each other’s company, and so, so peaceful.

More than your emotions, you even had let your imagination take the lead, dreaming about a selfish future with him, seeing it every time he would give you a smile, or laugh at one of your jokes. A happy Arthur, relieved from his obligations, enjoys life's simplest joys. A house, a garden. Maybe a dog, considering he had loved having Copper. A marriage even. And why not a child? If he would feel ready. Something in you was telling you he would be a good father.

But now, you felt like this dream was rotten, condemned.  Like a broken match. The fire, the very thing it’s designed for,  not being able to be lit. Would never be lit. A wasted potential.

You tried to continue your gossiping chat with Karen, voice light but gaze elusive as you peeled the potatoes you were supposed to prepare while discussing, tedious tasks often ended up less difficult this way when you were working with the other girls. But behind your seemingly normal smile and hollow words, a haunting thought was hanging on to you as strongly as a rock trapped in a thousand-year-old iceberg. 

Arthur never fell in love again after Mary Linton.

Night had definitely fallen on the frozen mountains. After your endless vegetables centered-chores, you had helped Mr. Pearson turning them into a decent meal, his incessant blattering about the Navy giving you some sort of distraction. During dinner and after though, once you didn’t have any goal or job left to do for the day, your conversation with Karen came back into your wandering mind, her speech playing again and again like a used gramophone record.

Never fell in love again...

Sitting at one of the corners of the big cabin you had been sleeping in for the past few days along with the girls and some other gang members which mainly served as a common space, you were looking outside by a dilapidated window. A frozen World spread out before your eyes, every inch of surface covered in snow and ice, the landscape ending up looking like it was coated with a thick strange substance —dark blue colors Queen of this gloomy, misty horizon.

Arthur had returned from a very busy hunting day with Charles. Thanks to them, meat had been added to the vegetable paradise of a meal, resulting in a better-than-usual supper. He should have felt cheerful, but his mood wouldn't lighten. 

He had spotted you from across the room, noticing the hurtful absence of your smile on these sweet lips of yours. Smile he secretly loved. Lips he secretly fancied. 

Hesitating for a long moment, debating with himself, a self-depreciative rambling turning in his head like a well-oiled motor, he had ultimately decided to join you and investigate. Something pretty important must been bothering you, because loosing your usual little grin and eating your plate all by yourself really wasn't in your habits.

Approaching you, his boots and spurs clicking and stomping before you could see him, he plants them in front of you, standing there while his eyes lock on your face.

“Miss Y/L/N? Is everythin’ okay?”

“Oh, Mr Morgan. Yeah, don’t worry. Everything is great.”

He doesn’t believe you and honestly, you wouldn’t have convinced yourself either. And Arthur is a stubborn man. A stubborn, and caring one. He leans against the cabin's old creaky walls, on the other side of the window.

“Come on, don’t lie t’me girl. Everyone noticed you’re not in your right mind.” He honestly doesn’t know about everyone, but he surely did. His words are accompanied by a small, polite smile.

“I don’t think… I don’t think you’re the right person to talk about it.”

Arthur’s entire body froze. The hands he had on his belt as always when he was comfortable, flew to his chest as he crossed his arms, his thick winter coat folding with difficulty. His encouraging smile flattened, his brows pleating in a harsh frown.

“Erm… Alright, I get it. I won’t bother you, I guess.” 

Without loosening his arms, he pushed himself from the wall, taking a step to leave you some space. You couldn’t have missed it. This change of behavior, the hurtful expression he had displayed, as if he was truly pained by your words. Disappointed, maybe even shameful to have thought he could help you at all. He was just a sad, ugly bastard, after all.

You felt like you could hear all of it from where you were, and see it in the shadow that had taken his face and the gigantic mass that seemed to have fallen on his shoulders.

No, you didn’t want this. Didn’t want him to feel like that because of you and your stupid feelings, or your own dark thoughts.

“Wait, Arthur!”

He turned around the second you talked again.

“I’m sorry it’s just…” You sigh and look at him with an uncertain expression, knowing your next words were going to be risky. “It’s about you and Mary Linton…”

His eyes turn into two literal plates, his mouth slightly opening in outer astonishment. This was really not what he had in mind. You could have been sad because of a hundred logical reasons, the death of Davey and the loss of Sean and Mac, the complete fiasco of Blackwater, the hundred of dollars lost, the terrible and tough conditions of the Grizzlies plunging everyone into an unbearable cold and a threatening famine.  Not mentioning Hosea’s alarming coughing, Dutch’s mysterious decisions, and Micah as a whole.

But you, out of all these things, were worried about Mary.

Once his eyes had grown as round as they could, they got back into an interrogative expression, the wave of surprise over.

“Wha’…?! How d’ya even know ‘bout her?”

“Karen speaks a lot when she’s bored…” You briefly explained, trying to sound detached.

Arthur rolls his eyes to the Heavens. Of course, folks talked, and you had to know about it all at some point. But this wasn’t ideal at all. He would have preferred to tell it to you himself, at a time he would have felt comfortable doing so, with his own words. He didn’t want this to change anything between the two of you.

“And erm… What exactly bothers ya?”

You open your mouth to speak, but your words are jammed. Explaining that you feel jealous of what the both of them had shared would just come down to confessing your feelings for him plain and simple. 

You felt completely stuck. 

He’s right there before your eyes, the very source of all your worries and your every joy. Looking at you with those confused blue eyes, wondering what is happening in this pretty head of yours. But the words still won’t come out.  You feel more and more powerless, and instead of a sound, your eyes take over to get something out of your body, slow and sad tears filling them like a lonely glacier fills a mountain lake on its own.

Arthur’s usual frown furrows, his wrinkles more visible, contrasted by the shadows from the warm lights of the fire. Suddenly, his internal melancholic speech shuts down, as if the view of a single tear streaming down your cheek were absolutely intolerable to him. No worries nor anxious self-restraints crosses his mind —it’s now only instinct. He sees you crying. He has to help you. This is as easy as that.

His right hand reaches to you by itself.

It feels warm but coarse. This big, big hand on the side of your face.

“Oh, Y/N. Don’t waste those pretty tears for a sour-faced idiot like me.” His thumb gently wipes the drops of sadness that had overflowed from your two delicate lakes. “Come on, les’ jus’ talk about this somewhere quiet.”

Arthur gently uses the hand he had on your cheek to wrap it around your shoulders, solid arm gently pushing you up. He then leads you through the door, other members throwing curious gazes at the both of you.

But he doesn’t care. His priority, right now, is your well-being, and some privacy to allow him to finally whisper things in your ears he should have a long time ago. Not in front of everyone. Not with the other men looking at your sparkling eyes, and listening to the change in his voice he knew would crack, his usual intimidating persona crushed into a million pieces with only the sound of your own. Or with the other girls hearing the oh-so-important words he had to say. No. You would be the only one to witness this. 

He had brought you to the barn where the horses were kept. The snow was falling lazily, a few flakes passing through the holes in the dilapidated roof. The place is enveloped in a heavy silence, as if it was muffling every sound coming from the outside.

Once Arthur had closed the big wooden doors behind you and before he could do anything else, you finally burst.

“I shouldn't cry, I’m so sorry Arthur, I just… She looked like an incredible woman, so beautiful a-and distinguished, and me well… I'm just… me.” Your eyes fell to your feet. You like everything was coming out of you all at once and you couldn't contain it anymore.

“Stop it.” 

“How could I ever mean something to you? You've been with her for so long and even proposed to her and… and never fell in love again after her and…”

“Stop it, Y/N!”

Arthur cut your blabbering panic by pulling you against him. He held you so tightly you were almost crushed by his powerful arms, but it felt so good. Like he was holding together all the little pieces of you that had cracked, melting them with his warmth and molding yourself again with it.

“Now you l’sten to me, sweetheart. I don’t want ya to say things like this ever again.”

The sudden use of the pet name soothed your heart immediately. You buried your face into the furred collar of his big winter coat, the hairs tickling your nose. There, you can feel a little bit of his bare skin, your cheek finding shelter against it.

You stopped talking.

You just wanted him to continue to. His deep voice seemed to come directly from the inside of his chest, and you could feel it vibrating before actually hearing it.

“Ya know I’m no… Am no poet or, or good with words like Dutch…” He started, visibly unsure of what he was going to say. He’s relieved he had initiated the hug, this way, with your face in there, you couldn’t see his. The worried expression it was carrying, like a burden. “But lemme tell ya just how much I care about ya. Oh, my sweet girl.” 

This is it. He tries not to but his low tone begins to tremble. It’s so strange. It feels like forever since that happened for the last time.

“Yeah, Mary has been a real’ important part of my life, I won’t lie to ya. But it was so long ago, gorgeous. So long ago.” 

He knows he won’t shed a tear. He never cries. But his hands shake. His vocal cords vibrate in a vulnerable, softer, and higher-pitched quaver. His body tenses, heart as fast as if racing with a million wild horses galloping in the Great Plains. Even if his words couldn’t explain just how much you meant to him, you could have guessed by how you were affecting his entire flesh.

“Ya know what? It’s true. Our story ended badly. I never fell in love again after her.”

You sigh, more tears wetting your face and his blue coat, this truth so hard to swallow.

“Until that morning, when I saw you brushing Boadicea’s mane; your hair all covered in hay, the brightest smile I ever had the chance to witness on that sweet face o’ yours. That day, I knew my stupid foolish heart had done it all over again.”

You let out a single chuckle mixed with tears and emotions, so relieved. Even when you felt like you were at your lowest, he succeeded at making you smile.

“Grimshaw had forced me to groom all the gang’s horses to “get used to camp’s work”. Must have looked terrible.” You remembered with a smile, details of your first encounter with Arthur flooding your mind.

“You looked like a goddamn Angel, honey. T’was like the sun was shining jus’ for ya. Jesus, I knew it was too late for me.”

You pulled back from him just a little, enough for you to look at him in the eyes, but not for him to let go of you. Now that they had found you, his hands, still slightly quivering, refused to let go, their place on your back and behind your head feeling so natural and right. Your eyes behave the same way as them but with his face. He looks so moved that you have to pinch yourself internally to make sure you’re not dreaming this whole thing; never in your life you had seen him like this.

“I love you too, Arthur.” You confessed back to him, fingers cupping his cheeks in a delicate touch.

You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach his face, but his arm helped you, your lips gently discovering themselves, brushing against each other in a soft and shy caress. Even if both your mouths were chapped by the biting cold, it was the most gentle kiss you had shared in your life, a satiny embrace that left you completely dreamy and light-headed.

The snowflakes silently swirl around the both of you, Nature the only witness of your souls melting into each other.

Opening your eyes again after this moment out of time, you're met with the happiest smile Arthur ever had on his face. He looked like and idiot in love, and you were sure you looked exactly the same.

“Please darlin’, don’t ever compare yourself to her ever again. What’s in the past stays there. And I wanna have a future with you.”

Your dreams sprang back straight from your heart to your mind. The visions you had about the both of you were more alive than ever, reinforced by his own needs shared with yours.

“You’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re so smart and stunningly gorgeous. And, you wan’ a proof?” He playfully asks you, taking his hat off his head, a thin layer of snow falling from it.

Turning it over, he carefully pull a piece of paper out, hidden between two leathered segments in the inner part of his hat. His cut and reddened fingers unfold it and he gives it to you, his big smile turning into an embarrassed and sheepish one.

It’s a sketch of you.

You’re mesmerized by the details of it, the blades of hay messily tangled in your hair, the sparkling in your eyes, the exact clothes you were wearing that day. This smile, you’re more than certain he drew it way more beautiful than it really is. Arthur even had added some lines traced from your head to the end of the paper, as if you were the Sun itself and were emitting your own light.

This was impossible this was the same person as you, her beauty was too radiant and fascinating.

But no matter what you thought about yourself, seeing his work curled your lips in the exact same way as yourself on the drawing. With snowflakes replacing the twigs, you had turned into the living recreation of it. Arthur laughed when he noticed, and realized just how much he had loved you and continued to since that morning from a year ago. He bent towards you to put a small kiss on your forehead.

“Arthur it’s… It’s beautiful.” You find it difficult to find another word, speechless once again. 

You also had no idea of how talented at drawing nor attracted to you he was. This day definitely was full of surprises. You chuckled fondly before taking a last look at your portrait and giving it back to your lover. But Arthur’s large palm wrapped around your hand.

“No, please, keep it. This way, you’ll always remember how you look through my eyes.”

More tears threaten to escape your own, even though those were a direct extract from the immeasurable happiness you were experiencing.

“And... Now that I don’t have to hide myself while sketching ya, I’m going to draw lots of new ones.”

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries Thank you for reading all of this! Also, I didn't know this was a thing but if ever you want to be tagged in my works too, let me know! It would be my pleasure.

[anneapocalypse]

On Wuk Lamat, and Female Characters in FFXIV

The Thing with Wuk Lamat is you can tell me you think she had too much screentime; you can give me numbers on how many lines she had or how many scenes she's in relative to other characters or other expacs; you can prove to me "objectively" that she gets more focus than other main NPCs; you're simply not going to convince me that this is something I should be unhappy about. And not just because it's silly to think you can use numbers to prove a story is good or bad and make someone else go, "Wow, you're right, let me just throw away all the joy I experienced with this story and revise my opinion because you've scientifically proven to me that I'm wrong."

Because while I love Final Fantasy XIV and I have greatly enjoyed its story in so many ways, fundamentally one of my biggest beefs with this game has been how much female characters have been denied complex character arcs and growth and agency and interiority.

Minfilia gets treated as a sacrificial vessel who lives for everyone but herself and doesn't even get to have feelings about her own death because that entire arc is focused on a male character's angst about it instead. The game tells us in the Heavensward patches that Krile sees Minfilia as her best friend and then just forgets about that later and never follows up on what that loss must have meant to her. Ysayle is basically right about most of what she's fighting for but harboring a bit of self-delusion is apparently such a terrible sin that she has to pay for it with her life, while her male foil is deemed so worthy of salvation that there's a whole plot point about how important it is that we risk our lives and others' lives to save him. Y'shtola is a major character who's been around since the beginning, and the game keeps dropping maddeningly interesting things about her (apprenticed to a cranky old witch in a cave! saved her own life and the lives of her friends with an illegal and dangerous spell and it worked! reserved and undemonstrative yet regularly through her actions reveals herself to be deeply caring! disabled!) and then shows complete disinterest in following up on any of those things with the kind of depth and care shown to male characters with complex arcs like Urianger.

In general there is also a repeated thread of female characters being portrayed as weak or overly emotional: Minfilia is weak because she doesn't fight and needs to be eaten by a god in order to gain "a strength long sought." Krile is portrayed as not being able to pull her weight with the Scions (despite the fact that she actively keeps five of them from dying in Shadowbringers) and the only thing they could think of for her to do in Endwalker was be yet another vessel for Hydaelyn (hmm, that sounds familiar) and it's not until Dawntrail that she gets much actual character development in the main story and even that has to come alongside "Look, she can fight now so that means she's useful." (And I love Picto!Krile, I'm just saying, there's a pattern.) Alisaie, despite having very good reasons for needing to find her own path apart from her brother, is portrayed as having to prove herself when she returns, that she's "not the girl she once was," and "will not be a burden" (while Alphinaud is repeatedly given the benefit of the doubt and reassurance and affirmation from other characters even after he takes on responsibilities he isn't ready for and fucks up big time).

And if you follow me you know I adore Urianger, and I love Alphinaud and Thancred and Estinien too, so please don't misunderstand what I'm saying here! I'm not knocking those characters, or saying we shouldn't also love them. I just use them as a comparison to demonstrate how the female characters have been neglected.

Lyse has some of the stronger character development among the female Scions, and while she's still kind of portrayed as being too emotional and hotheaded in early Stormblood, I think it's actually explored in more depth in a way that I like; Lyse has good reasons for wanting to fight for her nation's freedom, but having been away from Ala Mhigo for several years now, she needs to understand the stakes for the people who've been there fighting for years, what they've lost and still have to lose. She grows as a person and rises to the challenge of leadership, and I'm even okay with the fact that she leaves the Scions afterward because it feels right for her to stay in Ala Mhigo, and at least she doesn't die.

And by all accounts she was, like Wuk Lamat, widely hated when her expansion came out.

Unironically I think the other female Scion with the strongest character arc is Tataru. She tries to take up a combat job, finds that it's not for her, and decides to focus on where her strengths are instead. In doing so, she both holds the Scions together as an organization in the absence of a leader by capably managing their finances, and also comes into her own as a businesswoman and makes international connections that benefit both the Scions and her personally. In contrast to Minfilia, she's not portrayed as weak because she doesn't fight, and is actually allowed to be an important character who's good for more than being sacrificed. Tataru is still distinctly in a supporting role for the player character, however, and her character arc happens as a side story that takes up a relatively small amount of screentime over several expansions, which I think is probably why she doesn't evoke such a negative reaction.

But there is a pattern of the game's writing showing disinterest in the interior lives of female characters generally, and in making their growth the focus of a story.

So yeah, I'm going to be happy about Wuk Lamat! I'm going to enjoy and celebrate every moment of her character arc, of her personal growth, of watching her put the lessons she's learned into action. I'm going to love and treasure every moment when she gets to be silly, embarrassing, emotional, scared, grieving, confused, upset, seasick, impulsive, and still deemed worthy of growing into a hero and a leader. I will love her with all of my soul and you simply will not convince me that it wasn't worth the screentime after such a profound imbalance for basically the entirety of the game. We've never had a major female character get such a strong arc with this much love and attention put into it and that means more to me than I can truly say. The backlash to it is disheartening, as this kind of thing always is, but I'm not going to let it ruin the wonderful experience I had playing it and how much joy it continues to bring me.

And for those of you who don't want any of that for a female character, thank goodness you have Heavensward and Shadowbringers and Endwalker and no one can take those away from you.

(And if you follow me you know that I love Shadowbringers and Endwalker and have very fond memories of Heavensward despite some issues with it, so not only can I not take that from you, I am not trying to!)

Some of us have been real hungry for a character like this with an arc like this, so, I think, y'know, maybe we can have that. As a treat.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 30 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley's excitement over the first set of ultrasound photos is unparalleled. He has never been so happy and so overwhelmed in his life, but at times he feels ill equipped to process everything that's happening. And the last thing he wants is to make you feel like he's growing tired of you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy topics, doctors, angst, fluff

Length: 6600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley wanted to be able to explain it to you, but he wasn't really sure he could. Sitting in the waiting room with you and anticipating an ultrasound to see the baby was honestly more than he ever thought he could have. You were more than he ever thought he deserved, and you wanted him anyway. But a baby? 

He barely had a baseline to build off of. His dad died when he was young enough that he only had a handful of fleeting memories. The sound of a laugh. Two big hands lifting him up when he fell. A lullaby sung softly as he drifted off to sleep. Besides the photos that you and he collected from his storage unit and the stories his mom recounted when he was younger, that's all he had.

But he could practically hear his mom telling him how excited Nick Bradshaw was to be a dad. Bradley could remember the joy in her voice whenever she told him about the way she would catch father and son goofing off together. She was adamant that Bradley cried almost nonstop the first day his dad was gone for a deployment. And now Bradley desperately wished he could remember these little details that made up their relationship. Because soon, god willing, he was going to be on the other side of things: the parent who loves goofing off and singing, but who also gets deployed and causes tears to fall.

It was all too overwhelming for him to put into words, but as he laced his fingers with yours, he knew he didn't have to figure out how to do everything all at once. 

"Are you nervous?" you asked.

Bradley looked at your open expression and immediately felt better. Talking through things and sharing his thoughts was the best way to keep from driving himself crazy while also letting you know how important you were. "Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."

He still felt silly at times for sharing the notebooks with you, but you nodded with a little smile on your lips. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."

He reached for you and kissed you without hesitation. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now. And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."

Bradley let you bury your face against his neck. It didn't feel like you were hiding from him so much as giving him a taste of the kind of response he'd get if the two of you were alone. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and said, "I adore you, Roo. You'll be the best daddy."

Bradley almost laughed when you jolted in your seat after the nurse called your name. "Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."

"Holy shit," Bradley replied, palms suddenly sweaty. Baby photos. He was on his feet in an instant, ready to go. And maybe this was what his dad felt like. Perhaps his parents didn't know what they were doing either, but rather they just counted themselves lucky to go along for the ride. He wished one of them had left him a notebook.

You were smiling up at him as he reached for your hand again, and your fingers felt sure and steady all wrapped up with his. "I'm excited, too," you whispered, answering your own question from earlier while he ran his thumb along your rings. "And maybe a little nervous."

"I'm right here," he promised as the two of you followed the nurse into a room filled with equipment. "I'm not going anywhere."

He kissed you and then begrudgingly let go of your hand when the nurse gave you a hospital gown to change into. As she left the room with the promise that your doctor would be in shortly, Bradley dragged his palms across his khaki covered thighs as he sat down and watched you change. Even though you were suffering from near constant nausea, he thought you looked incredible. Your face was glowing, and you kept looking at him with adoration in your eyes. 

"Jesus," he grunted when you removed your bra. Was it possible that today he was the hornier one for once? "Sweetheart. Your tits," he whispered as he ran a hand over his face while you giggled. "Unreal." Then your underwear went sliding down your legs, and he reached down to help you out of them. "Hand me the gown," he told you as he folded your underwear across his knee.

You slipped into the gown when he held it open for you, and then you stood between his legs while he secured the ties and kissed you through the fabric. Your laughter filled the small room, and when the doctor walked in, she found you sitting on Bradley's lap while he ran his knuckles gently across your belly. 

"I'm Dr. Morris," she said, shaking hands with you as you stood and then reaching for Bradley's. "I love it when partners show up for appointments, too. It's a lot more fun."

He watched Dr. Morris help you up onto the table, immediately missing your warm body next to his. "I plan on being here for every appointment unless I'm deployed." Your smile faltered a little bit at his words, so he added, "And even then, I'd steal a jet and fly in for a few hours. This is that important to me."

Your smile was restored and then some. Bradley scooted the chair a little closer when you reached for his hand as Dr. Morris started to ask you some questions and enter them into the software. "Do you recall when you last menstruated? I'd like to calculate a due date assuming we find a healthy fetus."

Once you told her the date of your last period, Bradley blurted out, "Why wouldn't it be healthy?"

Now he had two pairs of eyes on him as you squeezed his sweaty hand. "It's very early," Dr. Morris said. "Complications are more likely to occur in the first trimester than in the second or third. And your wife is just between seven and eight weeks along based on her cycle."

"Oh," Bradley said, swallowing hard. You'd tried to tell him all of this information before, letting him know it was too early to inform your parents or Nat or any of your other friends. But it felt somehow wrong coming from someone else. He didn't like this information when it was laid out before him in the exam room. 

"It's okay, Roo," you told him, a sweet smile still on your face. So he nodded and watched your lips and the curve of your cheek as you answered a few more questions and asked about prenatal vitamins.

Then eventually Dr. Morris said the only words Bradley really wanted to hear right now. "Let's see what we can find with the ultrasound."

He was sitting on the edge of his seat, elbow leaning on the exam table as he gripped your hand for dear life. As excited as he'd been, now he was on the verge of being sick. What if he'd been too rough with you in bed? What if the football at the beach really did hit you in the wrong spot? What if all of the vomiting had been worse than either of you considered?

One thing was for certain. Bradley was going to love you no matter what, until his dying day. So he held onto your hand and kissed your knuckles as Dr. Morris squeezed lube onto a wand that looked a bit like one of the vibrators you had at home. "Is that for the ultrasound?" he asked, watching you spread your legs wider. 

"Yes," the doctor replied, and a huge computer monitor lit up. "We need to get really up close at this stage to be able to see anything, so we're doing a transvaginal ultrasound today. The ones you're thinking of that use a paddle on the belly will come later."

"Right," he replied, and as soon as she slipped the wand inside you, he watched you purse your lips in slight discomfort. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he whispered, eyes glued to your face for any sign of pain. But your pinched expression melted away, and your lips parted softly as you sighed and stared at the computer monitor. 

"Oh. Oh, Bradley! Look!"

When he turned toward the screen, he slowly stood as you pulled his hand closer to your body and held it with both of yours. Everything looked a little fuzzy at first, just some gray and black shapes. But then a cute little bean started to take shape as Dr. Morris adjusted the wand, and Bradley rasped, "Is that the baby?"

"Yes," she replied evenly, also watching the monitor. "And everything looks great."

Warmth spread through his entire body as Bradley huffed out a laugh while you giggled. He wasn't sure if his hand was shaking or if it was yours, but he leaned down and kissed your wrists before finding your lips with his. "That's our baby," he whispered, kissing you once more.

"It's adorable," you said, smiling nonstop. "Like a little bean, or a chicken nugget."

Bradley leaned on the table, keeping as close to you as he could. "I'm already so in love." He could feel tears in his eyes as Dr. Morris froze the screen. "Is it over?" he asked in a slight panic. In all honesty, he could happily spend the rest of the day right here with you and the baby, and he wasn't prepared to say goodbye yet.

"Just capturing some images," she reassured him. "Baby's first picture."

"Oh my god," Bradley groaned softly, and you ran your fingers through his hair as he ducked his head against your shoulder. "That's the first picture, Baby Girl."

"The baby looks just like you, Roo," you told him with a laugh, and he kissed you until the doctor cleared her throat.

"Let's see what we can find if we zoom in a little more."

With rapt attention once again, Bradley stared at the screen. It looked like the baby was bouncing around a bit, wiggling to an unknown song. "Is that movement good?" he asked. "And what's that little flickering spot?"

"Very good," she replied. "And the flickering is the heartbeat."

"The heartbeat?" That was inexplicably what threw him over the edge as a tear managed to squeeze its way down his cheek when he blinked. "Holy shit."

He just let his head rest against your chest and basked in the feel of your fingers in his hair as you whispered, "I love you." Bradley had no idea if you were talking to him or the baby. Or maybe both. Or maybe you loved Dr. Morris, because in this moment he certainly did as she snapped more photos. Maybe you loved everything right now just like he did.

"I love you, too."

--------------------------

Bradley was falling apart as you ran your fingertips along his scarred cheek. Or perhaps he was completely keeping it together. You weren't really sure. He had some tears in his eyes even though he was smiling, and the two of you were holding onto each other. 

"Do you want to listen to the heartbeat as well?" Dr. Morris asked, and the two of you responded at the same time. 

"Yes!"

She laughed and adjusted the ultrasound wand inside you which was actually extremely uncomfortable, but you were starting to think Bradley would cry harder when she removed it. And then you heard it. Dr. Morris adjusted something on the control panel, and set a device on your belly, and you could hear the heartbeat. 

"Why is it so fast?" Bradley asked, squeezing your hand. "That's like really fast."

Now your heartbeat was picking up, but Dr. Morris said, "One hundred and fifty two beats per minute. That's perfectly where it should be."

"Oh, okay," Bradley sighed, eyes transfixed on the monitor. "That's good then. That's a strong Bradshaw heartbeat right there. Can you take another picture? The nugget looks really cute like that."

You laughed and reached for him when she eventually shut off the equipment and removed the wand. At Bradley's request, she printed out enough copies of each image that you'd be able to give them to your parents, all of your friends and even Bradley's cousin Brenda in Virginia. 

"This seems like overkill," you whispered as the printer just kept going and going.

"It's not," he promised. "I need all of them to wallpaper my locker and fill my helmet bag. Just a bunch of pictures of you and now the baby, too."

"We'll get more ultrasound photos at the next appointment. And the next one after that," you reminded him. 

"Good. We'll have enough to wallpaper at home, too." Eased himself back down into the chair as you sat up a little bit while Dr. Morris cleaned up her workstation. 

"When is the due date?" you asked suddenly. 

"March 24th," she replied, and you and Bradley shared a smile. "Do either of you have any other questions for me?" she asked as she handed a massive stack of ultrasound photos to your husband who looked like he just won the lottery. 

"When can we find out if it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, looking through the images with a crooked little grin on his face. 

"In the second trimester," she assured him. "You'll make a special appointment for an anatomy scan."

You cleared your throat and said, "So... I've been really quite... I'm sure it's the hormones and everything, but I've been extremely aroused for the past few weeks." Bradley gave you a wide eyed look as you asked, "Basically, I want my husband around the clock right now, and I want to know if that's normal?"

He let out a strangled choking sound, and his cheeks started to flush pink as Dr. Morris said, "That's totally normal. Have at it."

You pressed your lips together before you quickly asked, "And rough is okay? Like pretty rough."

"Yep," she replied, completely unfazed by your words as Bradley looked like he wanted to run out of the room with his stack of baby pictures. "Anything else?"

A smile crept to your lips, one that Bradley would have probably found alarming if he were looking anywhere else except the door at the moment. "Actually, yes. I do have one more question for you, Dr. Morris. Based on the size of the baby and the date of my last period, can you tell me when you think the baby was conceived?"

"Sure," she replied, turning the monitor back on and scrolling through all of the information in your electronic file. 

"You did not just ask her that," Bradley whispered, his voice deep with annoyance and maybe a little bit of desire as you grinned at him and bit your lip. 

"I would say you probably conceived right around June 27th."

You squealed with delight as Bradley groaned. "Thank you so much, Dr. Morris. We'll see you again in a few weeks."

When she left the room, you hopped off the table and started to untie your gown, pausing to pump your fist in the air while Bradley held his forehead in his hand. "Okay, okay. You win," he whined as he laughed. "You win."

"I told you the baby was conceived in the Honda!"

---------------------------

Later that night, Bradley kept reminding himself that Dr. Morris said rough sex was okay. That seemed to be the only way you wanted it as you got on all fours on the bed and said, "Fuck me hard, Daddy." And Bradley was never going to be one to deny his wife anything she asked for. 

Beads of sweat were rolling down his face, occasionally dripping onto your back as he leaned over you. He was panting next to your ear as he went as hard as he could, fucking you until your knees buckled and he had to hold you up. "You know, I used to have a wife who liked it sweet sometimes. I wonder what happened to her?"

"You knocked her up," you gasped as he rubbed your clit with his fingers. 

Fuck, he was getting close, and your words were not helping in the least. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come for Daddy." 

A few more swipes of his fingers and a little more dirty talk, and you were coming. Holy hell, you were coming hard, which was a good thing, because Bradley needed a break. You released an unholy moan as your legs gave out again, and this time, he let you sink down to the bed as he grabbed his cock in time to come all over your ass and your back. 

"Roo," you gasped as he painted you up, and you met his eyes over your shoulder. "That's so fucking hot!"

"I'm glad you think so," he grunted before he sprawled out on the bed next to you on his back. "I got nothing left in the tank, Sweetheart. Do not ask me for more tonight."

You crawled over to kiss his sweaty face and whispered, "You did so good," as you patted his abs adoringly. "You're already the world's best Daddy." Then you leaned down and cleaned his cum from the head of his cock with your tongue, and Bradley moaned as you climbed out of bed. "I'm going to shower and get ready for bed."

He raised his hand in a wave or surrender, he wasn't quite sure which. Forty-five minutes of nailing you until you screamed his name was the most intense workout he'd had in weeks. He needed to hit his home gym in the garage a little harder. Maybe he could invite Jake over to lift weights with him, and then he could sneak away and take a nap while you and Jake had one of your gossip sessions. That actually sounded pretty great.

Bradley managed to get out of bed long enough to let Tramp out and brush his teeth. By that point, you were getting out of the shower and drying yourself off,  humming and sighing softly. 

"I know what you're trying to do," he said with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "And it's not gonna work."

You looked at him with one eyebrow raised as you ran the towel across your chest. "I'm sorry. What exactly am I trying to do that's not going to work?"

He spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, sending a glare at you in the mirror. "Look at your fucking tits, Sweetheart. Now you're just flaunting them."

"I'm literally just standing here."

He shook his head and kissed your forehead as he walked past. "You know what you did."

When you slipped in bed next to him, he pulled you close while you laughed softly. You were wearing nothing except for his old UVA shirt, and when you curled up next to him, he pushed you gently onto your back. Then he yanked the shirt up and shimmied under the covers so his lips were next to your tummy. 

He kissed up and down your side before laying with his cheek on your hip and one hand on your belly. "Listen kid, I don't know what you're doing in there, but I need you to chill, okay? Someday soon, you'll get to see how pretty and perfect your mommy is. Yes, I think about her all day long. Yes, I love her, but I can only take so much. Your old man is an old man."

You lifted up the covers, and Bradley felt your fingers in his hair. "No, you're not."

He kissed the spot just below your belly button before returning to his pillow. "I'll be close to thirty-eight when this little nugget arrives."

"That's not old."

When you curled up on him this time, he collected you in his arms. If you were surprised by his words, you didn't let on. "My dad died when he was twenty-nine. My mom died when she was forty-two. You're a bit younger than me, not that I mind. But my age is something I think about a lot. I'm older than all my friends. I like to be prepared for things before I jump into them. I like to feel out my surroundings. Except when it comes to you, apparently."

You snuggled in a little closer, voice soft as you asked, "What do you mean?"

Bradley kissed your fingers before lacing them with his in the dark bedroom. "I was all in with you as soon as you looked at me. Zero hesitation. No turning back."

You buried your face in his chest and moaned. "You can't just talk about me like that. It makes me insane for you," came your muffled voice, and Bradley laughed. 

"I guess I never had any hesitation about us having kids either. And I'm just saying... it's nice to have time to think about the baby before the baby actually gets here. But I'm also in my head a lot right now about my parents and how much more flying I've got left in me and how I don't actually know how the fuck to take care of a baby."

"Bradley!" Your voice was scolding as you propped yourself up on him. "We're a team. And I wouldn't lie to you. You're not old, and I'm pretty sure nobody actually knows how to take care of a baby until they have one in front of them. Then you just kind of do it, I guess. The fact that you are so excited about this pregnancy is at least half of what's turning me on so much. You will be the best dad imaginable, because you love me so well, and I don't doubt you have more of that to give."

He was exhausted, and your words settled over him like something he could physically feel. "I really am so excited. Today felt like a dream. I just want to cover the whole house in the ultrasound photos, and I can't wait to get another smaller paper airplane tattoo."

He felt your fingers trace his tattoo in the darkness. You knew exactly where it was without guidance just like he knew exactly where yours was. "You'll get it right here? With the baby's name on it?"

"Yeah," he whispered, starting to feel like he was going to doze off.

"I have a question," you said, and he squeezed your hand softly. "Earlier you asked when we can find out if it's a boy or a girl."

He smiled at the hesitation in your voice. "What's your question?"

Bradley could feel your heartbeat against his body, and he thought about how he had been able to see and hear what the baby was doing just a few hours ago. The beautiful sound of that rapid heartbeat that belonged to his child. 

"Do you care? If it's a boy or a girl?"

"No," he answered honestly. "Not one bit. I just care that it's ours."

"Me too. I'm happy either way." Your words sounded soft and dreamy, and he believed them.

"I love you both. Now let the old man sleep."

--------------------------

The rest of the week felt like a bit of a reality check. You tried taking the prenatal vitamins from Dr. Morris, but you threw them back up almost instantly every single time. "Just skip them," Bradley said on Friday morning as you threw up in the toilet when you were trying to get dressed for work. 

"I can't," you practically wailed. "They are supposed to keep me healthy so I can keep the baby healthy." You looked up at him from where you were sitting on the floor.

He sighed and checked the time. "Why don't you just stay home today? You're looking pretty green, and it's Friday anyway. Text Bickel."

Anger flared inside you. He was standing there looking nice and tidy in his khakis while you were on the floor turning yours into a wrinkly mess. And the reason for that was the fact that you had to deal with all of this shit. He just got to enjoy your libido while being excited about the baby. You really didn't want to start resenting him right now when you were leaving for Maryland soon.

"I can't just skip work on a whim like what I'm doing isn't important," you snapped. "I'm trying to get my presentation ready for Annapolis, in case you forgot you offered to help me with that."

He was on his knees in an instant with your chin in his hand. "Hey, that's not what I meant. I just don't want you overexerting yourself, especially since your work is important and you'll be traveling soon."

You still felt bitchy, even though he made you peanut butter crackers and took Tramp for a walk while you stayed curled up in bed for an extra twenty minutes. "That's right. I'll be gone for a week. I'm sure you're looking forward to having a break from the near constant sex."

You used the vanity to pull yourself to your feet while your stomach lurched, even though he was holding his hand out to help you. "Look at me," he demanded without touching you at all. You didn't want to, but you shifted your gaze to his face as he stood too. "If you really think that's true, then we have a serious problem. I'm going to assume that you feel the need to take your nausea out on me, and that's fine. I don't really mind. That's what I'm here for. But do not accuse me of ever wanting to be separated from you."

You pressed your lips together and just nodded as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. You didn't want to be away from him either, but you felt another wave of sickness rolling through your body.

"I need to go, Sweetheart. I'll stop and get you some of those ginger pills on my way home. Maybe they'll help. I love you."

After he left, you threw up again and fought the urge to throw the bottle of prenatal vitamins across the bathroom. Even now you were horny enough that you considered climbing back in bed with your vibrator to take the edge off, but you knew nothing would be as good as the real thing. And you'd have to apologize to Bradley before you could have that, and it would undoubtedly make you cry when you did. 

When you finally made your way back out to the kitchen, you found more peanut butter crackers arranged on a plate in the shape of a heart with one of the ultrasound photos next to it. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to call your husband, but it went to voicemail. You listened to his raspy voice before ending the call and texting him instead.

I'm sorry. If you want Marry Me Rooster for dinner, pick up some chicken along with the ginger pills.

After you tucked the ultrasound picture in the new Bronco, you spent your whole morning sitting quietly with Cat, the two of you going over each presentation slide with a fine tooth comb. "Is that calculation correct?" she asked, pulling out a calculator. 

"It fucking better be. I did it myself. Months ago."

She looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you lied, anxious that Bradley hadn't responded to your text. Two days ago, you were having the absolute time of your life with Dr. Morris, and now you wanted to scream. "Can we just finish this?" you said through gritted teeth as Cat checked your math which was obviously done correctly. 

"That's what we're working on," she said smoothly, using her mom voice on you and making your nerves prickle. "Finishing the slides so we can spend next week practicing and getting our notes in order for all of these meetings and cocktail receptions."

The last thing you wanted to do right now was pretend you were drinking alcohol while trying not to vomit. Nothing about this trip to Annapolis seemed appealing. And you didn't want to have to try to hide your pregnancy from your parents if you drove to see them one night. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Cat asked, and you had to steel your spine as you nodded. 

"I'm perfect." There was no point in making her mad at you when the two of you would be in close quarters for several days, so you rolled your shoulders and got back to work.

-----------------------------

Asking Jake if he wanted to workout actually wasn't the best idea Bradley had come up with recently. It would be nice to have someone to spot for him at the weight bench, but if you were making his favorite dinner, he'd rather spend the time with you. 

"Fuck," he groaned as Jake followed him to the grocery store on his way home. Apparently he needed protein powder and didn't mind that Bradley had to stop for chicken. Of course now he had to try to discreetly grab the ginger pills that you wanted to try for your nausea. 

It ended up being easier than he thought since Jake took fifteen minutes to decide which flavor of protein powder he wanted. He was still looking at them when Bradley went back to that aisle. "Are you almost done?"

Jake shot him a nasty look from where he was squatting at the bottom shelf. "Listen, it would go faster if I didn't get hit on constantly when I'm wearing my uniform."

Bradley rolled his eyes so hard, he was afraid he'd get a migraine. "Keep it in your fucking pants. I'll meet you at my house."

Jake grabbed a container and followed him to the registers. When they passed a hot sauce display, he grabbed one and handed it to Bradley. "Get this for Angel, and maybe you'll get laid. Sounds like you need it."

"It's literally the last thing I need," he mumbled, but paid for it anyway along with the ginger and the chicken. When Bradley slid his credit card back in his wallet, he saw the corner of the ultrasound image he had tucked in there last night. He unfolded it and took a peek as Jake paid for his powder. You were everything. And the baby was everything. And he should have been a little more patient with you this morning. 

"You coming?" Jake asked, and Bradley shoved the nugget photo back inside his wallet before slipping it into his pocket. 

You were already home, and Bradley parked the blue Bronco next to the red one. Jake came careening into the driveway, stopping about two inches from the back of the new Bronco. "Show her a little respect, okay?"

Jake snorted as he climbed out. "You literally fucked the other car to bits. I didn't do shit."

Bradley groaned as he walked inside with Jake on his heels. The first thing he saw was you in the kitchen, feeding Tramp a treat. You had on some skin tight yoga pants and a little shirt without a bra, and you turned to him and said, "Can we talk?" He opened his mouth to tell you that you could have any damn thing you wanted, and then you said, "Hi, Jake," with a look of surprise on your face. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"Hey, Angel," Jake crooned, walking into the kitchen and pulling you in for a tight hug. Shit, Bradley forgot to text you and let you know he wasn't going to be alone. "Didn't see you at lunch today."

"I worked through lunch," you replied, your eyes on Bradley. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Nah, just going to lift weights out in the garage with Rooster for a bit. I'll be out of your hair after that."

"You can stay if you want," you told him, but he was already heading toward the hallway bathroom with his gym bag. "Why didn't you tell me he was coming over?" you whispered. "I'm not even wearing underwear, and you left one of the ultrasound photos on the fridge."

Bradley quickly pulled it down and stuck it in the freezer on his way to get to you. "I'm sorry. I meant to text you, but then I got in the Bronco and forgot." Tears welled up in your eyes; he should be used to this by now, but he was not. "If you're horny, I'll take care of you as soon as Jake leaves."

You scoffed at him. "It's not that. I don't just want that. I wanted to talk. You're not just a gigantic, walking dick to me."

Jake cleared his throat, and you and Bradley both turned to see him standing there in his gym clothes. "I'll meet you out in the garage," he said with a smirk. "Take your time."

"I'll just be a minute," Bradley called over his shoulder, but you'd already started to open the chicken he set on the counter. "Do you want to talk now?"

"No." Great. You were giving him one word answers now. 

"Would you like me to get changed and get out of your hair?"

"Yes."

---------------------------

As soon as Bradley walked through the sliding glass door and headed for the garage, you broke out in tears. What the fuck was your problem? You didn't mind if Jake was here or if he stayed for dinner. You didn't want to completely discourage Bradley from hanging up the nugget photo. You just couldn't control your emotions, and you had zero patience today. And you couldn't stop running to the bathroom to pee. 

You decided to fill up some travel mugs with water and take them out to the guys to smooth things over. Tramp ran around in the grass as you walked across the yard, and you could already hear the two of them talking over their playlist as you approached the doorway. 

"Is Angel's ass bigger now?" Jake asked, pointing to the dirty calendar that Bradley hung on the wall and strategically covered part of with a post-it note.

Your husband shook his head. "Stop staring at my calendar," he replied as he added weight to one side of the bar. "And stop talking about my wife's ass."

"She's in a feisty mood today. You probably didn't even need that hot sauce to get laid, old man." Based on Jake's response, you were pretty sure neither of them had seen you in the doorway yet as you stood there awkwardly. 

Bradley's brow creased. "She's been a real handful, actually."

Jake hooted with laughter. "In the bedroom? Never mind, I don't want to know."

It took Bradley a few seconds to respond. "Can we talk about anything else other than my wife? Please? Literally any other topic would be great."

You turned on your heel and carried the waters back toward the house as soon as you heard Jake say, "Speaking of asses, you know who has a great one..."

They were out there for a full hour. You made what turned out to be perhaps the most incredible looking batch of Marry Me Rooster of your life while you stewed. Even your husband was already sick of you. Soon you'd gain so much pregnancy weight, your ass would probably be enormous. He'd probably have to close his eyes just to have sex with you. 

You froze as you were putting the chicken onto a plate. What if he couldn't stand the sight of you with a belly at all? All stretched out and weird? Bradley had probably glorified it in his mind, but you knew it wasn't going to be all that appealing when you were nine months along in the middle of March with stretch marks galore. You were already bloated enough that Jake noticed.

You were turning and looking down at your body when they both came walking back inside, out of breath. "Smells good in here. Are these for us?" Bradley asked, pointing at the waters on the island. 

"Yes," you whispered, afraid to meet his eyes. As soon as you heard his voice, you were horny again, but you didn't want to keep forcing him to have sex with you just because you couldn't help yourself.

Jake kissed you on the cheek, and when you told him he was welcome to stay for dinner, he said, "I'll take a raincheck. See you for golf on Sunday, Rooster," and headed out to his car.

"Do you think you can eat dinner?" Bradley asked you softly. When you turned away from him and nodded, he said, "You didn't have to wait for me if you were hungry. Do you want me to shower first?"

You burst into tears once again. "I don't know if I'm hungry. I don't ever know. Sometimes I just grow up. And I can't stop fucking crying! And I don't want you to be so sick of me that you'd rather talk about literally anything else with Jake, including someone else's ass."

"Whoa, whoa," he said quietly, spinning you around again. "I don't want to talk about anything else besides you, Sweetheart."

You shook your head and covered your eyes with your hands. "I tried to bring the waters outside. I heard you."

When you were pulled snug against his sweaty shirt, you felt slightly better. "Baby Girl. I was not about to get into a conversation with Jake about how I can barely keep up with you in bed. In order to keep my pride intact, I would at least want him to know you're pregnant if I'm admitting that you're wearing me out." He kissed the top of your head over and over.

"It feels like you're getting sick of me," you sobbed softly. "And you brought me hot sauce even though I can't eat it right now, and that made me so sad."

"I couldn't be less sick of you if I tried. I just needed to keep Jake off my back rather than let slip that you're pregnant, so I got the hot sauce. And it's completely my fault I forgot to tell you he was coming over, but I had a lot on my mind today."

"Like what?" you asked, inhaling how delicious he smelled even compared to the dinner you made.

"Like possible baby names and the look and feel of your pussy when I fuck you. Do you need me right now? Because I'm ready to go when you want me."

"So badly," you squeaked. "I'm sorry, Roo."

"Don't ever apologize again for wanting to have sex with me. I will be the one to apologize if I don't last as long as you need me to."

You nodded against him. "Well then I'll apologize for having a bad attitude."

"Do you need me to fuck the attitude out of you?" 

"Yes, sir."

-------------------------------

Imagine how excited he'll be holding that baby in his beefy arms. Just stay calm, sweet Roo. The hormones won't last forever. Up next, we're going to Annapolis. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 31

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[dustofthedailylife]

Hihi! I just read ur befriended a slime post and o would love to see more characters react to you befriending a slime! I love ur writing so much💛💛 I don’t have specific characters in mind so any you want to do is fine🥰

Hey! Thank you so much for the compliments, I'm glad to hear my silly little stories brought you joy! I too absolutely adored the concept so I added some more I could come up with something for. I hope you like them <3 P.S.: I also love how your username is very fitting for this specific fic request. I love it! 😭

"That Day I Befriended A Slime" (II) ft. Ayato, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Albedo x Reader [Fluff, Crack]

→ Part I (Xiao, Zhongli, Tighnari, Alhaitham, Childe, Diluc) → Masterlist || → Taglist

→ Ayato didn’t anticipate returning home from his meeting to find you sitting in the small pond in front of the Estate. You are drenched from head to toe and are just about to be tackled by the hydro slime in front of you.

"Oh, Archons no!", Ayato yells, dropping everything he is holding to rush towards your position and practically dives into the water to shield you from the attack of the slime. He pulls out his sword and tells you to get behind him. Slightly nervous he looks around because he knows he will have trouble defeating it alone. A hydro vision is useless against hydro slimes. He hates feeling so helpless but he might have to rely on someone else here. "Thoma! Ayaka! Get here quick!" "Ayato...", you giggle, placing a hand on his shoulder and brushing a strand of drenched pastel blue hair behind his ear. "It won't harm anyone. I found it in Chinju Forest and it followed me back here." "...w-what?"

He watches in disbelief as the slime slowly crawls into your arms and nuzzles into your chest before it closes its eyes and starts emitting gurgly purring noises.

→ Itto is faced with your beaming smile before you pull him by his hand, prompting him to follow you. All you had told him was that you need to show him something and he is practically bursting with excitement about what it was.

"What, what, what?! Come on, tell me. What do you want to show me?!", Itto beams. "Patience! We're almost there!" You lead him to a small enclosed garden behind one of the shops in Hanamizaka, taking a little glass jar out of your bag that contains some rocks. You shake the glass a couple of times and Itto looks around, seemingly waiting for a reaction. His eyes widen in surprise as soon as a small geo slime crawls out under the hedge and in your direction. "Do you want to give him a treat?", you ask teasingly, but you don't even have to wait for an answer as he is rushing straight towards the little slime with open arms already. "Oh by the gods, look at the little dude!! We gotta give him a name. Itto the Second? Itto Junior? Whadda'ya think?"

Needless to say, the slime is now a new addition to your little family. And another upside is that Ushi seems to get along with it as well.

→ Kaeya meets up with you at your apartment after being done with work for the day. He was thinking about your homemade dinner all day already and is ready to melt into your arms as soon as he is able to. What he does not expect today is walking into your apartment bathroom and finding a sleeping cryo slime in your bathtub.

"Uuuuh... sweetheart?", he chuckles with unease in his voice. "Yes, Love?" "You are aware that there is a cryo slime peacefully taking a nap in your bathtub, yes?", he inquired and scrunched his eyebrows in concern. "Yes." "Yes?!", he exclaims in disbelief. "Yes.", you reassure. "I bonded with it when it was hot outside and we both took shelter under the same tree. Poor thing looked scared to death. It probably thought it would melt. So... I put it in my bag and put it in the bathroom because it's cold there.", you satisfy his curiosity. "Plus... it kind of reminds me of you." You have never seen him that quiet before. What a rare moment to see the Cavalry Captain lost for words.

And as much as finding the little slime flabbergasted him. He soon warms up to it and you sometimes even find him napping on your sofa with the slime pressed flush to his chest.

→ Kaveh comes home only to find a dendro slime on his desk, happily chewing away on his blueprints. Taking a few seconds before processing what is happening he darts forward to push the slime off his desk and pull the saliva-drenched remnants of his blueprints out of the slime's mouth.

"No, no... noooo.", he groans, pulling on his hair. He has no idea how it got in here but there is only one possible explanation for it. Angrily he marches into the living room with his fists balled on his sides. "Alhaitham! Why did you put a slime into my room?!", he fumes. "Because your partner dropped it off here earlier even though I told them you're not here yet. They said something about a... pet? It wanted to chew on my books so I threw it into your room.", he explains without looking up from the book in his hands once. "Oh grand. And you didn't consider that it would continue to chew on my things there?" "I fail to see how that is my problem."

However, it sort of starts to become his problem as soon as Alhaitham finds out you and Kaveh named the slime "Hai-Hai" in reference to the sprouts on its head that apparently share similarities to his own hair.

→ Albedo finds you and Klee kneeling in the grass just outside of the Mondstadt city gates. A beaming smile on the little girl's face and reaching down towards something that he is unable to make out at first, due to your backs blocking his vision. As soon as he steps closer he identifies what you are kneeling next to. A little geo slime is nuzzling into your lap while Klee pats its head.

"Mr. Albedo!!", Klee cheers. "Look what we found. Klee made a slime friend!" "Ah, that is wonderful, Klee!", he smiles in her direction. "So that's the project you were working on the past weeks I assume?", he inquires directed at you. "Bingo. Turns out my slime-tamer elixir is a success. With this, we might be able to domesticate them. As you can see, this little guy over here turned from a little feral blob into a snuggly little pet.", you explain. He eyes the slime with curiosity. This is certainly a most amazing find. As expected of you. He never had any doubt you wouldn't succeed with anything you had set your mind on. "Fascinating. You've got to show me your notes on this-" "Mr. Albedo! Can we keep it? Please, please, please!", Klee interrupts and excitedly jumps up and down clutching onto the Alchemist's coat. "I don't see any reason why we shouldn't." "Yaaay!"

Watching you and Klee play with the slime and seeing your proud smile makes his heart swell in his chest. You are truly the most gifted person he has ever met.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always appreciated!

[amandav09]

You say you’re pregnant at 141 (GhostxReader)

Do not worry, I continue my Oneshot on xPrincesse reader, but for now I make other stories at the same time

Warming : None

Word count : 3,5k

Gif not mine - I speak bad English and I am dislexyque, so sorry for the inconvenience

The Task Force has always been a family. Ghost found his place in the field of brothers-in-arms and a father figure.

You arrived after the team was formed. But it did not take long to integrate, especially with Simon with whom you had ended up as a couple for 5 years.

You were the sunshine of the band, but yet it was Ghost who had the biggest smile when he learned that you were carrying his child.

Now we had to tell the others.

You had the idea to make a game to tell them, Simon was not motivated and would simply send them a message, but fortunately, you intervened before.

So here you are, at a little party for the success of a complicated mission, just between members of the 141

You’re in line with the other three men

Price was at the end, a sheet pressing on the wall in front of him.

Gaz held a leaf in his back, and Soap did the same.

The goal was simple, you had to write a sentence on the sheet on the back of Soap, the boy had to write what he understood on the sheet in front of him, and so on until Price wrote the beginning sentence.

The first word was not complicated, everyone found the "I’m" not without difficulty.

The first letter of the word "Pregnant" was well written.

Soap managed to write "Pregn" before frowning. The others were only at the "e" that Johnny turned like a rocket

Price and Gaz heard only a sob before hearing the sound of the impact of one skin against another.

Simon had caught his friend before he could say too much. The Scotsman had tears in his eyes while Simon had one hand on his mouth and the other around his waist to prevent him from jumping on you with joy.

Gaz didn’t have time to turn around as he heard you right behind him.

"It’s not over, Soap has already found the phrase."

He sighed and refocused on his sheet.

"How did this jerk find out before me?" He moans, making you laugh

You said that again.

Gaz continued to write, struggle to write «Pregnant»

"Oh fuck!" He had the same reaction as Soap, turning around "Really?" He had stars in his eyes.

«Yes» You answer with a smile

Simon cleared his throat, Johnny still in a submission grip. And Gaz understood the message, the game was not over, so he had to remain silent

He stood beside the two men, a silly smile on his face.

It was the captain’s turn.

"Come on, grandpa, it’s easy" you teased him, leaving a clue

As an answer, just growl.

"My back is crumbling, I can’t feel what you’re writing me."

You press a little harder behind his back to make him feel better what you were writing.

He remained closed his eyes and rewritten what he felt, following the movements of your pen with his hand.

"You have the phrase captain," said Simon softly, letting go of his colleague.

Price opened his eyes and read what he had written, despite the sloppy writing, he wasted no time in understanding the meaning.

His breathing gets blocked and he turns to you "You’re pregnant."

You nods, smile on your face

"Oh, my God, "he prays to you quickly in his arms, without worrying about Soap’s disappointed moan that was waiting to take you in his arms for a while.

When Price let you go, he quickly shot Simon in a dead woman, without worrying about the boy’s protests.

As you watched Simon respond to the hug little by little, you did not notice the two individuals quickly approaching you to take you in their arms.

"We’ll be tontons" chantetonna Gaz

"Unfortunately for our child," mumbles Ghost back from taking Price

John turned his head towards you.

"Did you say grandpa for my age or to give me a clue?"

A teasing smile appears on your lips.

"Both"

[jacketpotatoo]

I watched Hadestown live on the West End and I just wanted to ramble because it changed my life.

Melanie La Barrie is an absolutely electric Hermes. she's charismatic and fun and toes the line between a god enjoying the beauty of the present and a god, tired and resigned, that knows how the story ends. she is an interlocutor that invites the audience into this tale whilst being fully There with the characters. a moment that broke me was Road to Hell (Reprise) where she says the 'alright' twice to Orpheus in a way meant to comfort him rather than in a detached manner to the audience. It was like a grandmother calming down her grandson and it was devastating. I love how she stands in the shadows in scenes where she isn't involved and checks her pocketwatch often - it's a reminder of her omniscience and meta-theatrically, how she's an occupant of present stage-time as well as story time. A story time that spans thousands of years, from oral Greek myth, to Ovid, to this present retelling set in Depression Era America.

I love the jazz. the fact that the unbroken song is reflected in music genre and the presence of the band onstage with the rest of the cast. there were just little moments (like at the very beginning, Hermes goes to Eurydice and asks her if she's ready and they smile at each other before the former makes her way frontstage) where the Stage of it all is made clear. it's a story about telling stories and the cast is as important as the dramatis personae in its retelling. like the blurring of character and actor - when Our Lady Of The Underground takes time to give the band their flowers. it's so important in a story focusing on the average person and survival and creation of art. And it's just so genius to juxtapose those on stage that have access to the audience (Hermes and the band) and those that do not (the chorus and mortals). also the juxtaposition of Hades and Persephone (gods whose lives persevere in the changing of seasons and the cycle of death) and Orpheus and Eurydice (whose lives end but stories continue in this loop that inadvertently perpetuates hope by retelling in a different kind of immortality). Don't even get me started on flower symbolism. also also the band gave an encore performance and i love them sm like trombone guy?? mvp.

Some small things about the rest of the cast too: Hades was an absolute standout. he wasn't my favourite listening to the soundtrack a million times but he's a scene stealer and i loved every bit of him. just the way the actor carried himself - his walk, the set of his shoulders - was fucking perfect. tortured villain and sleazy capitalist at once. when he danced with Persephone he ended up doing this silly little jig that she followed along with after giggling a little and like. AAAAA?? And his 'I don't know' to Orpheus was so genuine. When he let Orpheus go his handshake was stretched long and he clutched him just that little bit longer because he knew that they wouldn't make it and. ugh. i'm so emotional. Persephone? transcendent. her voice. her moves! again, tortured and so, so fun. when she started dancing with Hades she couldn't look at him for awhile and her face was this beautiful mesh of emotions that transitions to pure joy. oh she was perfect.

I didn't get Irish Orpheus but Swing Orpheus was wonderful as well. He has the same puppy dog energy as Reeve!Orpheus but he was less dreamy/head-in-the-cloudsy. Wait For Me (alongside fucking gorgeous lighting and staging) and If It's True?? URGH. Actually lifechanging live experience. I'm not the same person I once was. also Eurydice was fantastic. she was British and while the cadence/accent took me a few songs to get used to, she brings a very different hard-tortured energy to Eurydice - it was an interesting and fitting interpretation of the character. this was reflected in her vocal texture as well with a much more desperate and belt-y sound than Noblezada!Eurydice. I love them both though, she was wonderful. ALSO she and Orpheus kept having these sweet little eye-contact interactions onstage when other things were going on and argh i love these goobers. a sad tale and a tragedy :,)

i have so much more to say and this is getting too long but i also wanted to mention that the theatre was full of audible gasps when Orpheus turned around. just. what an incredible, immersive, emotional experience. i'd one thousand recommend seeing it if you have the opportunity.

[tubbishtobias]

I know I’m late to this.

But here’s what I have to say.

2020.

COVID hit. I was a young girl, who was recently going through realizations of sexuality, friends etc. my friends introduced me to the dream SMP. I thought it was a little silly, then simping over these people playing Minecraft. But then I got into it. Like, super into it. Realizing there was more than just funny clips, there was actual LORE. I was so invested. I would sculpt clay of them, loving making little references of things that I like.

Going back into school post covid, I was so cringe. I thought my style was cool, and y’know, I did kind of eat. But I was happy. So happy. The friends that introduced me to it no longer liked it. They were too cool for it and kind of ditched me.

I had this community, that took a video game and made it into this super awesome story while still maintaining humor.

And they were real. It wasn’t like getting into a show, I think that’s part of the reason that I liked it so much. These creators were real, they have feelings, and lives.

They inspired me. Inspired me to keep drawing, even though the only thing I could draw was them. I loved it. Art block was no more lol

This is going to sound silly, but the dream SMP definitely helped me figure out my sexuality. Seeing other people so freely open about it made me think.

I didnt like when all of the trolls came and I was bullied relentlessly because I liked watching some people play Minecraft.

They helped me inspire my passion for steaming. Where I couldn’t imagine myself doing anything else but that. It seems so fun, to have a community that likes watching you.

Yea, all of my friends thought I was weird crying when Technoblade killed Tubbo with a firework, but I LOVED the plot. The lore. I didn’t even know what lore meant, or plot armor, or canon. Haha, I would give anything to have them back.

Technoblade especially. I didn’t know much about him before the SMP. But he is a super big part of my life and my joy. His ability to make humor, but maintain a serious atmosphere. His jokes, his PVP, he seemed like such a cool dude. Me cheering when he said that his cancer had been 99.99% percent removed.

2022.

I was going to one of the most exciting things I have ever done. A new experience, I was gonna meet new people. I was obsessed with drawing, the SMP, and HB. I was excited to meet people like me. I knew that I was trans, I wasn’t necessarily out tho.

I woke up one morning to a text from my friend. She used to like the SMP, but not really anymore. We were still friends.

She asked if I heard the news. Technoblade died.

I thought that she was joking.

Until I got another text from my friend. She’s one of my closest friends who was never really into the SMP but she knew that I liked it so she asked me about it.

I opened YouTube. Watched the video, sobbing. There was no way. You watch these people online, never having met them, only seeing what they want you to see on screen. You never know what you have until it’s gone.

My mum watched it.

She said that it was nice to see behind the scenes, seeing his dad, knowing that he’s a person. Writing RIP Technoblade we love you Alex as I went to my new experience the next day. A part of me seemed to just be broken.

Haha I’m sure this seems cringe. But like, everybody has there passions. These people inspired me. They made me who I am today, I wouldn’t be writing this if it wasn’t for them. Cancer has affected so many people in my life. It’s hard, it is. Knowing I will never get to meet Alex sucks. I mean, haha I probably wouldn’t have anyway. But him really being gone.. I don’t know. I know, people say, “he’s not really gone,” but it’s still different. He put on this attitude of wanting to power through it, making jokes. God, I miss him. I never met him, he doesn’t know me. But still, he made an impact on so many people. I know, this story has probably happened to so many people. But it feels good to tell it.

I know I’m not a super popular content creator. I May never be. But it’s nice to do this. It’s what I love to do, maybe I’ll have an impact some day.

Thank you Technoblade.

Im going to draw something for Technoblade 25, hopefully I’ll post it in a couple of days.

[foxfirexo]

my minecraft base on a server with a couple ppl; i am very proud of how it is turning out, the vibes are cozy and it has very organically expanded over time :3

tiny bit of story feel free to ignore and just scroll past but i feel like oversharing so fuck u (kindly <3)

ive always been pretty creative even if i spent the last decade or so telling myself i wasnt. when i was little it was lego, when i got older it was minecraft (among other things)

but being an audhd transgirl growing up in a very conservative southern baptist household (and as a PK and MK at that ;-;) and whose very existence was just fundamentally at odds with the teachings i was raised, i felt a lot of lot of pressure to suppress any self expression or identity i might have and with that went a lot of my creativity

after all, how am i supposed to be creative without expressing myself? and if ive numbed all the thoughts that i want to share bc they get me in trouble w my parents, what am i supposed to put into my art?

also being told your whole childhood that you're a guy and receiving all that lovely generational societal trauma of male gender roles and expectations really crushed the pointless wonderful meanderings of my mind. god i cringe a bit now(w compassion<3) but i used to brag about how obsessed i was with productivity, efficiency, logic, order but in hindsight i think it was 98% just feeling like i had to be a high achieving eventually bread winning "guy"

anyway as such ive had a very on again off again relationship w minecraft. it was a coping mechanism when i was young so ive put probably a good 5k+ hours into it but it became increasingly difficult to enjoy as i got older and ive gone years at a time never touching the damn game

its funny bc you could probably chart my whole healing journey and my ups and downs of my mental health by just measuring # of hrs spent in mc per month

but very recently ive been finally reaching a point (thank u therapist) that i am allowing myself the joy of self expression, that i am accepting and loving myself without the judgement of my youth holding me back, that i no longer feel like i have to hide myself away for fear of being crushed again because i have the self love to stand on my own two feet no matter what anybody else thinks

as silly as this probably sounds, joining tumblr just over a week ago has actually played a part in this too. ill probably ramble more ab that some other time whenever i feel like oversharing again but suffice it to say that this environment is incredible and everyone on this platform has made me feel so so so comfortable in my own skin being myself sharing my thoughts and feelings and just existing :3

and ya its a bit goofy but im actually seeing this milestone in how im playing minecraft. not only am i playing again (pretty regularly, too!) but im... just fucking around. no plan, no goal, if i have an idea pop into my head i just go out and do it but im equally content to just strip mine, chop trees, tend to my farms, whatever sounds good in the moment.....

and im building again too!!! no worrying about doing it "right", no stressing about wasting time bc i didnt count something right and now i have to move that wall or i changed my mind and now i have to redo all my flooring... just chipping away at it, trying out new blocks or decor ideas, enjoying it more for the process than the finished product and never needing anything to truly be finished

so ya :3 i havent felt this amazing playing minecraft since probably 2014/15 and im super proud of myself for getting to this point, its been a long journey and im by no means done but silly little things like this give me so so so sooo much hope and encouragement ^^

k thats all if u actually read all that im sorry or ur welcome lol

[docholligay]

The Witching Hour by Anne Rice

You’re either into what Anne Rice does, or your are not into what Anne Rice does. Reading an Anne Rice book is a akin to riding a bull. You have to take everything you think about urban fantasy, and you are almost certainly thinking of the frameworks set up by its popularity in the early aughts, and toss it out the fucking window. Anne Rice doesn’t care.  Fuck the devil, says Anne Rice, and absolutely not in a paranormal romance way. Anne Rice longs for violence and death, and she is going to make you look up a fucking word, and you are going to learn SO MUCH about New Orleans. 

Anne Rice is smart dumb literature. This is a tub read about a family of witches and is it a gift is it a curse, holy fuck there some weird sex shit in here book. But it also has prose that has been accused of being purple (it is not) because it is rich and textured and uses more than first level English. This is trash for people LOVE the act of reading, and the art of language. 

Is it good? I am not sure I would say it is. On a story level. It’s pretty…pulpy. This book more or less holds together under its own weight--I will be candid and say that’s not actually true of every Rice book. But this time period of her writing, I love being able to find gothic genre fiction that is fucked up and still loves the written word. I love that her books are not short! I know I complained about it earlier, but that was more, “Oh my god I only have so much time and I have other books to read” and not, “I hate long books” because no I love long books I love description I love you asides that allow me a depth of place and character I love you books that presume I like to fucking read. 

ANYWAY yeah! I liked it even though i don’t think it was good because I love her trash ahaha. 

The first thing is: Is this better than her vampire books? For me, this is a difficult question because her vampire books come packaged up with a lot of nostalgia. I read them when I was a teenager, and I absolutely fell in love with them. This was my unbelievably stupid fantasy series that a teen is way too intense about. So for me, no, this isn’t as good or better than her vampire books because I’m not reading it with that haze of thirteen year old Doc. 

But I will say that even her vampire books are…not great. They are FUN. But I really think only Interview ever does anything beyond the text itself, and so much of that has to do with Anne Rice’s writing it as a way of working through her own personal tragedy. Claudia is the closest she ever really gets to saying something true in her books. So I don’t know that The Witching Hour is a WORSE book, but because it’s an Anne Rice special written outside of the things that I hold a lot of internal affection for, it doesn’t give me the same sense of joy that the objectively stupid vampire books do. It’s just silly. I don’t have FEELINGS about Rowan or Mary Beth or Stella the way I do, say Armand, or Lestat, or Marius. 

This book is at its absolute best when it’s doing what I think Rice has a real gift for: historical urban fantasy. Say what you will about Rice, and I do all the time, but she is in love with New Orleans, and she knows a lot about it, and often I find myself reading a book of hers and feel compelled to go look something up. I ended up reading a whole bunch of articles about the history of Haiti because this book made me realize I didn’t really know much about Port-au-Prince. Everything serves New Orlenas, in her view, and it’s true that she is most at home there, and I think it really tells in the texture of the novel, versus when she is in Europe, for example. 

I loved the structure of learning about each of the witches leading up to Rowan. The way we look at everything in the taillights, and know what’s coming but it still is a delight to read the lead up. I would love to read more about the historical witches--the book loses me a little bit when we return to Rowan, I just don’t find her very compelling. She’s a thing for Lasher to act upon more than she is her own woman, at least in this book. She’s brilliant and perfect and gorgeous and everything, but she lacks a sort of internal fire. 

This is the weird thing about Anne Rice, is, she’s one of those women who writes terrible female characters. With the exception of Claudia, I guess. She’s largely disinterested in woman on the whole, at least as far as sussing through their motivations and ideas. We even understand these women, the Mayfair witches, THROUGH the men who study them, more than we do through them for their own sake. So I guess I say I wish more of the books focused on the historical witches, but if they had to hold up their own book, would Rice LET them? Could she write them as doing it? 

Anne Rice is always going to Anne Rice and you would think I would know that by now, but I still was a bit surprised to see Rice’s obsession with violent sex and rape as a kink. Not actually rape, in this book, it must be said. She’s very clear that everything is consesual, but the number of times she talks about the sex she has with Michael and how much she loves that it’s like a rape, and how much she loves rough sex.I caught myself laughing about it after a certain point. 

I KNEW she was going to fuck that demon. I knew it from the second we started getting shaded to the idea, because I know Anne Rice, and the things she loves and how she works, and there was always going to be horrible, monstrous demonfucking. I will give her full credit in that I didn’t expect the incest thing to actually work as part of the plot, but it does. It’s a very weird fucking purebred dog type idea, and I don’t hate it, which shocked me since incest is such a squick for me. But it seemed weirdly…perfect? I know, I know, I am also disgusted with myself it’s fine. 

Would I read the next one? I would be open to reading it, but I don’t know that I’d be chomping at the bit to do it of my own volition. I am gonna read some of the old vamp[ire chronicles though because it has made me nostalgic for it.

[raccoonfallsharder]

what kind of names do you think Mantis would give to her new abilisk friends? though at the end of Vol. 3 she collectively calls them her "babies" as they evacuated the Arête and i think that's already heckin' adorable

i've been thinking about this since you sent it. i would love to know what you think, actually. i love mantis but i don't know enough of her canonical background to say anything with confidently, and i honestly cannot decide. so here are a number of things i considered:

i thought about tiny mantis, with baby fat still in her cheeks and eyes even wider than they are now, her antennae always glowing. she tells peter that ego swept her away from her home planet after she was left orphaned in her larval state - but a god like ego can't be bothered with raising a child. i thought maybe, after she'd help him fall asleep, baby mantis would sit and swing her legs, and dream herself up some imaginary friends. you've probably never seen a more sad or lonely thing than tiny mantis, wandering the lush and vibrant terrain of ego the living planet: bickering with the ghosts of her dreamed-up family, playing some self-taught variation on tag or hide-and-seek by herself.

i thought maybe she named her adopted abilisks after them.

and then i thought that - ego is not exactly a reliably storyteller. perhaps he told a young mantis the story of his charitable adoption of her so many times that she believed it - and since she was so young, she'd have no reason to question it. but maybe she was not simply orphaned. maybe he orphaned her the same way he orphaned pete, destroying a family who loved her so much, who had such hopes for her. maybe she had two older siblings who couldn't wait till she was big enough to play with, and they made up all her days and nights and joys and fights. they probably had nicknames. maybe the younger one was still enough of a baby to mispronounce everything, and mantis held onto that memory: the slightly tilted and childish pronunciations, wobbling with affection. maybe her conscious mind can't recall them, but when she reaches out to her abilisks, she finds those innocent, almost-meaningless names rising up in her lungs like flowers. she doesn't know why - she just knows they're there, right on the edge of her antennae.

then i thought maybe mantis would name them the most mundane names possible. very "human" or terran-esque: gladys and john, maybe. maybe she thinks they are very cool names. or she knows exactly what she's doing and thinks it's hilarious.

or - and here's the one i think i like best -

maybe she doesn't know what she's named them.

mantis is not a telepath, but she is an empath. at the end of vol3, she speaks to her babies with a little purring chirrup. she probably doesn't know what it means - not really - but she knows the associations. she knows the vibes.

the sense of come with me˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚

the sense of of go with me wherever i go༘*.ﾟ and of ༘ ⋆｡˚i will go wherever you go, too

did that little trill mean come along⋆.˚જ⁀➴ or did it mean * ੈ♡‧₊˚we are companions or did it mean ⋆-ˋˏlet's depart into the silvered sky together✩₊˖°˖⁺‧

mantis doesn't know, but she knows it feels like all of those things.

do the abilisks have names for themselves? maybe. maybe not. mantis will probably never really know. but she probably asks them, because that's who mantis is. i like to think she takes all the little chirps and purrs and clicks and rumbles that feel best to them, and that's what she uses to call and speak to them. words that mean something like ༘⋆✦⋆ ˚｡home and love♡✧˚ ༘ and embrace✲ﾟ｡⋆ and my child, my darling, my little one.ೃ࿔*:･₊⊹

you might think, how silly, that mantis has inadvertantly named the slightly smaller one something like ✧˚ ༘⋆｡Sweetie-Pie♡˚ in their language, and the even bigger one now goes by a series of warbles and churrs that are close to ༘⋆-ˋˏAdorable Baby. after all, they're four times her height and like a hundred times her body mass mass and they vomit interdimensional glitter and rainbow confetti whenever they get anxious, like very large and very nervous cats. but even if mantis knew what she was calling them, she wouldn't stop. and they wouldn't want her to.

all three of them, together, know that she would cuddle them up and tuck them into her heart, and keep them safe no matter what.

[ankhegs-in-my-salad]

I'm not even sure why I'm writing this, but I felt like I needed to get it off my chest.

My wonderful friend @tavyliasin made a lovely addition to this post about how important giving your friends positive feedback can be to people, specifically former gifted kids, and I wanted to chime in with my own addition but it got super long and wasn't even the original point of the post lmao so here I am.

Anyway, we got some awesome insight about how leaving your lovely feedback is especially beneficial to former gifted kids in the previous post. Under the cut - me rambling about why positive feedback means so much to me, the Chronically Mediocre Kid.

Growing up, I was always painfully mid. I worked my absolute ass off to get my passing grades, and I got them for the most part. I wasn't good enough to be told I was doing well and I wasn't bad enough to actually get any help. Got into uni by the skin of my teeth and my degree the same way. I was stuck in middle-of-the-road land and pretty much always have been, with the exception of one notable outlier in my late 20's.

Now, as the name would suggest, us Mediocre Kids are very easy to forget about. We're just kinda there, and there's a lot of us. The NPCs or the studio extras, filling out space in the background of the class.

So how does this tie into writing or art or fandom in general?

For myself, and probably a lot of other people like me, writing in fandom has been the first real time to get that positive validation beyond "congrats you passed! You achieved the bare minimum!" I didn't get it at school (the place where, upon telling my chemistry teacher that I wanted to study chemistry at uni, was told verbatim "but you have to be smart to study chemistry") and it certainly wasn't at uni (where I had to resit a year and where the defence of my dissertation started with the words "the first thing we hated about it was[...]").

God, looking back I wish I had started posting fan fic so much earlier. Yes, comments are few and far between but when you get them? Oh my god.

Now I want to preface this by saying - Yes, I know that "you shouldn't write for validation" and I absolutely don't. I've been writing since I could hold a pen and only started posting stuff for actual humans to read in October. Does my background sound like that of someone who expected to get validation from strangers online? You can bet your arse that isn't why I'm here. It was just an absolutely massive unexpected bonus.

Fan fiction sent me from "congrats on the bare minimum" to someone telling me my silly AO3 story was their favourite thing they'd ever read on that whole website.

Do you have any idea what that does to someone who has spent their whole life being "good enough"? "Fine"? "Passed"? I was never good or bad enough to receive attention. My performance always "unnoteworthy". And that was fine, I always told myself. Because, as mentioned above, I've always been doing stuff for me and me alone. I learned early there wasn't any point in doing it for anyone else. Do you know how it felt to have a complete stranger reach out to me through the Internet and tell me that something that I had done, something that I had created, had a profound effect upon them?

Folks, I fucking cried.

For someone like me, every single comment, kudos, tag, all of it, is incredibly special. Even a comment as simple as an emoji or "loved this". It puts a little piece into a void in me that I didn't even know was there. It makes me feel as though maybe, if I can make one person happy with my writing, bring someone that kind of joy, there is more to me than just "passing grade".

And let me tell you, I'm still not used to it. It's one of the most wonderful feelings. And if you feel it too, don't ever let anyone make you feel bad for "seeking validation" or whatever. We know that's not why we're here, but my goodness if it doesn't make a difference when we get it.

So, to anyone who has ever given kudos, made a comment, left a tag on a post, any of it - thank you. It means more than I think a lot of people could ever know.

[eat-pray-cry]

All the Light We Cannot See: In Defense of the Netflix Adaptation (Part 7)

PART 7: THE CHANGES THAT I LOVED

WARNING: SPOILER ALERTS

And so we’ve come to this… The final rambling. The changes that I loved.

As I mentioned in another post, I acknowledge that there were many losses when the book was translated into film (or in this case, a mini-series). But this, ladies and gentlemen, is where I discuss the gains. This is where I tell you the parts where the show gave me what the book couldn’t give me. This is where I tell you why, in addition to the book, I loved the show as well.

Without further ado, and in order from what I loved, to what KILLED ME WITH WEEPING JOY:

Madame Manec is portrayed as Etienne’s sister rather than his housekeeper. I actually think this added to the story. For one, nothing is taken away by changing her from a housekeeper to a sister. Both are figures that would have known Etienne since he was a child. Both are figures who would have been present in his home and cared for him. The real game-changer here is how the show utilized the change: moments before Etienne steps back out into the world, Madame Manec delivers a powerful line. She utters, “He looks like my little brother.” (I almost cried.)

Verner’s running sequence through the wall. I find it VERY interesting that some people hated this, saying that it was cheesy and overdramatized. Here’s what I think: (1) Verner running through the city to get to Marie was also in the book, (2) it was necessary to give Verner a heroic sequence because he doesn’t get to have that when he gets to Marie, who saves herself from von Rumpel in the adaptation, and (3) it was riveting to watch! 

Marie listens to the professor too. I don’t see the harm in adding this change, but I definitely see the gain. Keep in mind that the book affords us many details to see the connection between Verner and Marie. They’re the only two characters who were shown to solve the puzzle of the model house. We also saw Verner reflecting on how wonderful the house in Number 4 rue Vauborel is - the radios, the books, etc. The show, with its limited platform, can’t afford to give viewers all those details. So what do they do instead? They establish that Marie also listens to the Professor, so much that she and Verner harmonize the same lines throughout the show. So when we finally see them together, we see flashbacks to their childhood where they both listen to the professor… It tells us as viewers of their connection.

Quote added: “The most important light in the world is all the light we cannot see.” Alright, fine, this quote wasn’t in the book and many have claimed that it was silly. Personally, however, I thought it was a lovely homage to the book. For one thing, it was literally a title-drop. More importantly, it echoed the running theme of the book - the beauty of the radio signals that connected Marie and Verner, the light we cannot see. Was the quote a little too on-the-nose? Perhaps. But in the same way that many aspects of the story had to be dramatized visually, so did this running theme have to be highlighted from the book.  

Jutta’s goodbye. My god. This scene was beautiful. I know that it was vastly different from the farewell in the book; it doesn’t mean that one is better than the other. As I’ve mentioned several times at this point, the book and the show have intentionally different tones. So, naturally, the goodbye in the book was hauntingly heartbreaking, whereas the goodbye in the show was tender and sad. That said, the biggest gift of this addition is this beautiful line: “Like one of your silly radio stations. Keep the frequency the same.” This was beautiful on so many levels. Beautiful because of the wordplay (radios, frequencies), but more beautiful because of how it reflects on the Verner we know and love, the Verner whose quiet goodness will be challenged.

Verner talks to Jutta through the radio. This was a beautiful, BEAUTIFUL addition because it was something that I, as a reader, couldn’t get from the book. As we all know, Verner and Jutta never reunite in the book. So to be blessed with this scene, to be blessed with the mere POSSIBILITY that they’re going to see each other again… It made my heart weep with joy.

Etienne and his brother are merged into one professor, Etienne and Verner actually meet, Etienne dies. As surprised as I was to find that Etienne dies in the adaptation, I overall thought this was a BEAUTIFUL change when considering Verner’s story arc. Let’s think about it. The show had limited time, they needed to show that Verner carried a lot of guilt, they needed to show that his connection to Etienne (and consequently Marie) was his beacon of hope. What better way to show that arc than to have him by a dying Etienne’s side, who turns to him and kindly says, “You’re a good boy, Verner Pfennig.” It was a big change and a small moment, but said so much. It was a beautiful way to show Verner being absolved.

All additions to Verner and Marie’s time together - the kiss, the dance, the promise to reunite. Listen. I don’t care if this wasn’t in the book. Let me repeat. I don’t care if this wasn’t in the book. One more time. I DON’T CARE IF THIS WASN’T IN THE BOOK. I love the book. I love the bittersweetness of the short time they spent together. I love the haunting heartbreak from the fact that they never got a chance to reunite. This, however, is also why I loved the changes that were made to the show. The show gave me EXACTLY what I didn’t get to have from the book. I spent 500 pages waiting for Marie and Verner to meet. The show gave me what I was waiting for in those 500 pages. The dance scene. The kiss scene. The way Marie twirls her fingers in his hair. The way she touches his eyelid, similar to the way she touched her father’s eyelids a few episodes ago. The promise to return, the line, “I will be listening”, the simple and powerful HOPE that they may see each other again. This is exactly what the show gives me, what the book intentionally (albeit beautifully) withheld from me: hope.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I loved both the book and the show.

The book broke my heart, the show made it flutter.

Thus concludes my defense of the All The LIght We Cannot See, Netflix version.

[muffinrecord]

The lovely Antimony translated Olga’s magical girl story (fast!!!) and I have some thoughts after reading it

I do eventually want to like, look at the the event AND the mgs in more depth when it’s in the app proper and I can take screenshots and stuff, but for now:

Something that struck me is that Olga is a very passive character. I wasn’t actually expecting that from their character designs-- I would have thought she’d be the one who dives headfirst into things and that Gunhild is the one who hangs back and watches

But in reality, Olga is a REALLY interesting take on a “dreamer” kind of character that tbh I don’t think I’ve seen too much in media before...? And I like it, but I’m also wondering if the game will go where I hope it goes and it doesn’t take the easy way out.

Let’s start off at the beginning. 

So right off the bat it’s confirmed that Olga is “acting” so cheerful. I have a real soft spot for characters who have a kind of happy ruse, who have a lot of sadness and misery and inside them and they cover it up with joy to keep the spirits up for the ones they care about.

What’s interesting to me is that this manifested in Olga being a “dreamer” to those around her, who projects this fascination with mythology and stories. However, I think a lot of the time “dreamer” kind of characters are depicted as being foolish, as not understanding reality, but this is deliberately not what Olga is. She understands reality very clearly, as evidence by the last line here. She is choosing to use cheerfulness and dreams because otherwise she and her sister would have nothing.

But another really fascinating thing is that Olga is so passive. Olga might be called the dreamer, but she doesn’t actually seem to believe in anything she’s saying, meanwhile Gunhild, who seems much more rational and down-to-earth, is listening and hoping for every word out of Olga’s mouth.

Like-- listen to this. Olga is saying that the gods will guide us. Or basically, it’s out of our hands. Hoping for the gods to help you is basically kinda... giving up and not trying hard on your own. And when Gunhild wants to escape, Olga is like what??? no way. 

Which-- idk. I kind of love this? Characters with big dreams and stuff like that are kind of often shown as go-getters who are foolishly naive in trying to achieve what they want, but I think this interpretation is more realistic. Olga doesn’t dream because she thinks its possible and she wants to achieve it, she dreams and has all these happy stories because she doesn’t think it can come true.

The thing is though, her motivations do not match up with what is coming out of her mouth. I think this goes back to the beginning-- she is acting cheerful as a way to keep them going. Her act extends to what she says. That means it’s really important to not look at what Olga is saying but to look at what she is doing. And she isn’t doing much of anything.

Apparently Gunhild has had this conversation with Olga numerous times enough for this set of lines to occur.

And again, we have further proof that Olga does not believe that she’ll have this happy ending that she’s talking about. Hell man, she even calls her own stories “silly.” 

I have so many brain worms about this. I could go into it all day. In fact I think I might talk about this one in more-depth in a separate post.

But for now, what I think is interesting is that Olga is talking about her own dream coming true... which is fascinating, because it’s different from the “silly stories” bit, which makes me think her own dreams and goals are not the same ones that she’s telling to Gunhild.

IDK, I just think this is very cool for a “dreamer” kind of character. She’s not naive and she’s not very active, she’s a passive person who is putting on an act of cheerfulness to to try and keep herself and her sister safe and happy, but she doesn’t believe any of it can come true (or maybe, doesn’t want it to come true?)

[bonnvivre]

A Funny Thing- Ch 22 word dump

shortening the title cus it’s a pain to write over and over, full title in the tags, link to chapter below cut (as if ppl other than the author themselves will look at this but hey)

very much a word dump i have no idea what’s going on below this cut it’s 4am im tired

————————————————

i read every single chapter out loud to myself- i like to pretend i’m an english teacher reading the assigned story of the quarter to their students and then i give an oscar worthy performance with the dialogue

ALSO GOSUKU TAG HAS BEEN ADDED FOLKS WOOOOOOOOOOOOO

yeah dr sato as you should lmao honestly i’d dedicate my entire work hours to these two mfs

“After all, she has a feeling their story is still far from over. Who knows what else may be lurking beneath the surface.” girl this is 16 yrs of LORE of course it’s not over 😭 they got BAGGAGE

4 yrs old, born 2007, we’re at 2011 now, gojo is around 22 yrs old (note for me)

OH RIGHT YUUJI WAS MANIFESTED THRU MAGIC LMAO OFC HE DOESNT HAVE DOCUMENTS

“Yuuji doesn’t have a last name.” A

oh my gkd giggling sukuna having beef w the cheater, got into indoor cycling just to best her love that for him 

also love chismosa ‘kuna, telling gojo abt the tea, kettle and all, even giving him a real time show 

“In a feat of superhuman strength-“ LMAO

god im cryimg are those full coherent sentences ??? OJ GODKM GONSN FCRUY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA YUUJIIIIIIIIIII a hundred billions hours oh ur so silly

teehee their son, our son, such subtle changes in the writing but it says so much 🥹

AWHSGAFAHAGDIS I KNEW HE WAS GONNA GET THE ITADORI SURNAME IM SO HAPPY FOR WASUKE HE DESERVES HIS SURNAME TAKEN BY HIS GRANDSON OH THE JOY 

god im sorry i just bursted out laughing while i was reading i couldnt help but think of the memes WHAHSDJ dad i frew up 

damn he didn’t return the handshake that’s actually so crazy

YUUJI THROWS UP ON HIS DESK OH SHITTF AAAAAAAA DESERVED SCREW YOU PRINCIPAL IVE BEEN GIVING A SINISTER BRITISH ACCENT TO

i initially thought it was mainly about sukuna’s “tattoos” that the first two schools were wary about, but i forget that, to others, they’re a queer family and definitely back then, it still wasn’t socially accepted. not sure why it didn’t cross my mind, especially with a conservative country like japan, but i’m glad there’s some light to it as a part of the challenges they go through while navigating their relationship and their lives.

HELLO WE’RE NOT JUSY GONNA BRUSH OVER THE FACT THAT THERE WAS A SECOND TIME THEY KISSED WITHIN THOSE 4 YEARS WTF DID I FORGET THIS ???? (after chapter note: OK COOL I WASNT FORGETTING THINGS LMAO oh please i gotta see what this infamous incident may be pleaseeeeeeee)

oooooooh the romance is really slow cooking goodness my favorite om nom nomnomnom

ohhhhhh my heart….what are you doing to me, weiserr……wholesome cute family moment…….my cause of death indeed

AWWWW AN ADMINISTRATIVE BODY THAT ACTUALLY CARES FOR THEIR STUDENTS’S WELL BEINGS LETS GOOOOOOO

after chapter thoughts:

MY MOM HAS A PELOTON BIKE TOO AHAHAHAHA LOVE MORE OF ‘KUNA IN HIS MOM ERA

imagine if they came across toji dropping off megumi at school or smth (yknow if mamaguro is still alive and their lives are good), i cant even imagine the animosity gojo and sukuna would have towards him

“heyyyy guys sorry i tried to kill you and your son back then crazy times huh”

his new friend is junpei bet (watch me be wrong)

[thescholarlystrumpet]

New WIP Tag Game!

Courtesy of the wonderful @weirdly-specific-but-ok <3

Give me three lines/paragraphs that you've written that you love [fiction, non-fiction, from different works or the same, from completed stories or poems or WIPs, from yesterday or ten years ago]. If that seems hard, even one will do. It doesn't have to be perfect. It can just be something silly that gives you joy.

And give me three lines/paragraphs that you've written that you dislike and find shitty. Anything at all as long as you wrote it. If you think it's ridiculous or absolute fucking garbage, even better! That's the point of this game. To see that we all write good things and bad things. Yeah? You can do this. And remember that both these categories are subjective.

**

Shitty lines (hard to find not because I don't write them but because I erase them as fast as I can think of a new one...)

They were tree trunks wider around than some men are tall with myriad scrubby looking bushes around them, looking almost like God herself had just throw piles of leaves down haphazardly. (Crowley is accidentally Robin Hood and Strumpet is bad at describing foliage)

"Getting a bit long in the tooth for crawling around on bad carpeting, these days.” Crowley took a beat, shouted something obscene toward the screen, then turned his full attention back to Aziraphale. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you that, though. Since I was hoping you assumed I was a ripe twenty-something.” (RHPS WIP, just don't love that last line yet)

“But it was way cool of you. Really.” Newt smiled, a genuine and guileless thing, much like the man, himself. (Glam Rock AU - wanted Newt to awkwardly use 70's slang but google failed me and 'groovy' was too obvious)

Lines I love

RHPS Fic:

 “Do you often scare off audience members?”

“Only the ones with no imagination…” Crowley shrugged one shoulder. “Or the ones who only get on their knees in church.”

Priest AU:

When asked about Miss Device directly, Crowley seemed to give a different answer to every person: 

She’s my long lost aunt.

Sorry, never heard the name. Sounds a bit pretentious.

Wait, you can see her, too? 

Glam Rock AU: (this one needs context)

“I’m not repeating that,” she seemed to be talking to someone else, possibly covering the receiver as she did so. “You’re an absolute terror,” she told the other person before the muffling ceased and her voice was clear again on the line. “Sorry about that. We, uh, I mean I just needed to know if I should stock up on anything for Mr. Fell on Wednesday. Tea? Biscuits? Newt will know what I mean.” 

There was another series of sounds and more poorly stifled laughter, then a familiar voice chimed in, fuzzy and echoing in the background but unmistakable.

“Weetabix! So he can shite out that stick up his arse!”

The woman on the phone covered the receiver again, though not before releasing a snort of laughter, herself. There was a series of shushing noises and Fell knew he ought to simply hang up. The message had been delivered. And then some. 

Tagging @hakunahistata @voluptatiscausa @ineffabildaddy @mrghostrat @kotias @theravenmuse @malachitegrey @captainblou @ineffablyruined @mrscakeishere and anyone else who wants to!