#this is before they became close as a family and my version of that

[starrycassi]

Zaunite Sign Language

We see in the show that touching foreheads with one another seems to be a very intimate thing to do for Zaunites. It is not necessarily romantic, but signals to a deep, strong bond between those who do it. Well, since Zaun was clearly a mining town, I think this habit comes from those times. We also see Felicia putting her fingers to her forehead as a way to greet her children, which could just be coincidence but I am insane and refuse to believe that coincidences exist in this show.

I think that, as deeply clothed as miners have to always be, letting someone else touch your forehead and general face eventually became a sign of intimacy between them, since it was one of the completely exposed areas of the body. Now, I know we see young Vander and Silco with not-so covering clothes (edit: yeah they put on those big ass coats. for some reason I forgot while writing this lol), but I’m being a bit more realistic here. I have family that lives somewhat close to Mina del Limón, which is a mining site here in Nicaragua, and people usually try to cover themselves up to avoid getting dirt directly on the skin, since a lot of the times this not only gets them dirty but ends up in mean rashes or other sorts of skin infections, depending on what layer of soil they’re working on at the moment.

All of this to say: I think Zaunites have a lot of signs that involve touching your forehead and involve only one (the other one usually busy with a tool or doing something else), since the noise in the mines would make spoken communication difficult and you can not just stop and walk over to someone in the middle of an excavation and signaling on other parts of your clothes would be harder to see if your hands are covered with soot, since their main light source would come from the helmets, ergo: their forehead/face would be the best illuminated part of their bodies. I headcanon things like touching up their index and pointer finger to their foreheads to then flick them up would mean things like “I’ve got you”, dragging their finger across their entire forehead “This is over/We can leave”, dragging their fingers from top pf forehead to tip of nose would be “I’m down/Can’t keep going/Help me/I need assistance” and so on. In a lot of circumstances where normal communication is stunted, languages tend to develop in other ways (like the Silbo Gomero, a whistled language in Canary Islands developed due to the distances)

I also think that, eventually, this evolved in Zaunite Sign Language (in a similar way to how Nicaraguan Sign Language evolved), which is what I personally Isha as being able to speak. I think almost everyone would know the very basic signs, since their parents teach them before they start going to work (and we see a lot of children working, so, very early) and these children would eventually teach their peers, even the ones that don’t work on the mines, so it’s a fairly widespread way to communicate. Add to this the time after the revolution, where a lot of miners would surely need to go into hiding for a time if they survived, or even before that, when they were planning and could not risk people hearing them — those would be circumstances that would surely foster and improve these signs!

I don’t know, I just really like linguistics and am a huge sucker for the development of cultural communication methods. Does this make any sense. Does any care. Should I expand on this. I mean I probably will because this blog has become a warped version of my journal but I still have to ask. To be polite.

[spasikonik]

an edek themed collage 🪲

[gay-dorito-dust]

Soft Dami is my favorite, especially when he has a partner or friemd and hides it from his family.

This became a ‘Batfamily trying who Damian is hiding from them.’ Type fic.

Damian hates sharing. Absolutely loathes it.

He already bore a shared moniker with his older siblings who -for the most part- have moved on to bigger and better things, creating their own versions of justice as vigilantes, leading teams of their own.

He shared a lot with his siblings and has come to hate the phrase sharing is caring, to Damian it was nothing more then a phrase that was so overused and abused by the likes of Dick and Jason, so much so to the point that the word had lost it’s dictionary meaning.

So when he entered in a relationship with you, Damian vowed to keep your name out of his mouth within the presence of his family. Which at first was extremely hard as all poor Damian could think about was you and how blessed he was that you’ve given him a chance; He had to bite down on his tongue a most of the time whenever he was asked if there was anyone at school that he had taken a liking towards.

Of course he has someone he’s taken a likening to, you. However he couldn’t let himself falter so easily and only scoffed at the question as though it was beneath him, before then reminding everyone at the table that he was only at school for academics and honing his artist skills, nobody in that rathole of a school could ever hold his attention for longer then five minutes.

Luckily his family believed this excuse and let the dropped the topic not long after, much to his relief in knowing that he was spared another day from ever having to share the one person in his life -outside of his family- that he cared deeply for.

However luck tends to run out and the glaring fact that his family was sharp as knives- especially Tim- at detective stuff, so much so that in retrospect Damian knew he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was the day his siblings eventually figured out everything…

‘He’s…smiling.’ Dick looked back at Jason, Tim, Duke and Steph before looking back at Damian who was subtly smiling down at his phone. ‘Oh my god he’s actually smiling.’ Dick repeats as Jason shoves him out of the way to get a better look.

‘He’s smiling alright, but what about.’ Jason said.

‘Or who.’ Steph piped up and the others looked at her.

‘Wanna elaborate on that Steph?’ Jason asked, raising his brow and she shrugged. ‘I’ve been noticing recently how Damian’s been more on his phone than he’s ever been since getting one.’ She begins. ‘He never engages in the group chat, not once but here he is, using his phone and smiling at whoever’s on the other side. Damian is actually talking to someone.’ She finishes, feeling happy at the fact that Damian had opened his heart to at least someone

‘Or he could be planning a murder.’ Tim said sarcastically and Steph playfully punches him in the arm. ‘But let’s go with the idea that he’s talking to someone for convenience sake.’ He adds on, rubbing his arm.

‘How do we prove it though?’ Duke pipes up, catching the other’s attention. ‘We’d have to somehow get Damian away from his phone long enough for us to check but the question is,’ Duke then looked at Jason, Steph, Tim and Dick, ‘who’s going to be the one to lure him out while the rest of us have a look?’

‘I think we should take a-‘ Dick was greeted with a face full everyone’s pointed fingers aimed in his direction like guns. ‘Vote.’ His face fell as his siblings gave him false sympathies before shoving him into the library with Damian and slamming the door behind him. Hard.

‘What do you want Grayson.’ Damian said, the smile upon his face now gone the moment he realised that he was no longer alone to freely text you, at least not without someone looking over his shoulder.

‘Oh hi Damian.’ Dick greets as he moves towards him, taking note of how he kept his phone close to his chest, almost as if he was hiding something he didn’t want anyone else to see. ‘I overheard Bruce this morning saying that he had something to talk to you about, something about implementing harder training modules for you?’ Damian practically perked up at this and Dick found his opening and honed in on it by shrugging his shoulders. ‘I’m not entirely certain that’s the case, so I’d double check with Bruce if I were you.’

Damian looked at his sibling for a long period of time and sighed. ‘Fine, I shall check in with father but Grayson I swear to god if this is a lie…’

Dick crossed his heart. ‘Scouts honour.’

‘Tt.’ Was all Damian uttered before leaving the room, not realising that he had left his phone on the plush couch in the library.

Bingo dick thought as Jason popped his head in through the doorway. ‘Is little Robin gone?’

‘Little Robin is gone.’ Dick confirmed and watched as Jason’s head disappeared as he, Steph, Tim and Duke came into the room, closing the door for extra measure in the instance Damian realised his fault and comes running back with his sword to skewer them all.

‘Now,’ Stephanie rubs her hands together maniacally, ‘let’s see who our Damian has been talking to.’ She then picks up the phone, expecting it to be locked but to her surprise, it wasn’t, she gasps.

‘What? What is it?’ Tim asked, trying to get a look at the phone screen.

‘He’s left his phone unlocked. Rookie mistake.’ She replied and Dick, Tim, Jason and Duke only stared at her, unamused.

‘Just…tell us who he’s been texting so we can put this to rest.’ Duke said as the others agreed, the anticipation was killing them at this point, but so would Damian if he comes back just when they were so close to discovering the truth.

‘Okay, okay sheesh, I’ll look.’ Steph said and looked away from her brothers and back down at the screen, looking intently before her face became one of confusion as he read the contact name aloud. ‘My treasure.’

Dick blinked. ‘What?’

‘Give it here.’ Jason snatched the phone from Stephanie and it wasn’t long for his face to be one of confusion as he looked towards his other siblings, holding up the phone. ‘The contact name is literally just my treasure. No photos of them, nothing.’ He tells them as Tim snatched the phone from him.

‘I could find us a name in under five minutes maximum but-‘

‘What’re you doing with my phone, Drake?’

Tim, Duke, Steph, Jason and Dick froze upon hearing Damian’s voice, followed by the unsheathing of a sword.

‘Should we run now or?’ Dick asked.

‘Running sounds good.’ Duke agreed.

‘Running sounds great.’ Steph joined in.

‘And it has beneficial effects on the body.’ Tim chimed.

‘Running it is by unanimous vote.’ Jason then said as all of them sprinted for their lives as Damian chased them out of the library, sword in hand, and eyes full of fury and other conflicting emotions.

He knew he made the right choice in changing your contact name on everything, but knew if they had been given just a bit more time and looked deep into his photo album, they would’ve saw a beautiful portrait of you that he drew a while back that would’ve gave everything away.

[meazalykov]

friend to wife

ingrid engen x reader

summary: to your family, she was just a friend until she became your wife

warnings: coming out, mentions of comphet, angst but comforting overall!

it’s quiet when you and ingrid step out of the car, the crisp december air nipping at your cheeks as you glance toward the familiar silhouette of your childhood home. 

christmas lights twinkle along the roofline, a warm glow spilling from the windows, and for a brief moment, you hesitate. your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of nerves and anticipation coursing through you. 

ingrid steps closer, her gloved hand finding yours, squeezing gently.

“you okay?” she asks, her voice soft, her norwegian accent wrapping around you like a comfort blanket. her eyes, steady and calm, meet yours, and you nod despite the tightness in your throat.

“yeah,” you murmur, although the weight of what you’re about to do feels monumental. this is your family. your parents, who have always pictured a version of you that you’ve long since outgrown. 

your younger siblings, who probably suspect more than you’ve let on. and now, you’re about to introduce them to ingrid—not as your best friend, not as your teammate, but as your wife.

your wife.

the word still feels surreal, even though it’s been three weeks since the day you and ingrid exchanged vows in a small, intimate ceremony at a courthouse in barcelona. it had been perfect, just the two of you with alexia, fridolina, marta, and caroline as witnesses, the simplicity of it feeling right for who you both are. 

ingrid hadn’t wanted to wait until next summer, and you, always understanding, had agreed. the euros would come and go, but this—your love, your commitment—couldn’t wait.

“we’ll be okay,” ingrid reassures you, leaning in to kiss your temple. 

“your family loves you. they’ll love us.”

you take a deep breath, letting her words ground you, and together, you walk toward the front door.

the inside of the house smells like pine and cinnamon, the comforting scent wrapping around you as soon as you step inside. your mom appears from the kitchen, a warm smile lighting up her face as she pulls you into a tight hug.

“there’s my oldest girl,” she says, holding you close before turning to ingrid. “and ingrid! it’s so good to see you again.”

you exchange pleasantries, your dad appearing from the living room to join in the greetings. your younger siblings peek around the corner, grinning as they call out your name and wave at ingrid. 

it’s all so familiar, so normal, and for a brief moment, you wonder if you should keep the truth tucked away a little longer. but then ingrid’s hand brushes yours, a silent reminder of why you’re here, and you steel yourself.

“actually,” you start, your voice a little shaky. you clear your throat, glancing at ingrid before looking back at your parents. 

“we have something to tell you.”

your mom raises an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in her eyes, while your dad leans against the counter, his arms crossed. your siblings exchange glances, their expressions a mix of intrigue and anticipation.

“ingrid is here with me because– well– she isn’t just my best friend,” you say, the words tumbling out faster than you intended. 

“she’s now my wife.”

silence.

for a moment, the only sound is the faint hum of christmas music playing from the living room. your mom blinks, her smile faltering slightly as she processes your words. your dad’s eyebrows shoot up, his mouth opening as if to speak, but no words come out. 

your siblings, on the other hand, seem less shocked. one of them—your youngest sister—lets out a quiet “i knew it,” earning a nudge from your brother.

“your wife?” your mom finally says, her voice tinged with surprise but not unkind. she looks between you and ingrid, her gaze settling on the norwegian. 

“you two got married?”

“we did,” ingrid confirms, her tone calm and steady. she steps closer, her hand finding yours again, and you draw strength from her presence. 

“three weeks ago, in barcelona. it was a small ceremony, just the two of us and a couple of friends.”

your dad exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair as he looks at the rings placed on the ring finger of your hand. 

“why didn’t you tell us sooner?” he asks, his tone more bewildered than upset.

you swallow hard, your grip on ingrid’s hand tightening. “it wasn’t easy for me to accept who i was, for not being what I thought was ‘normal’,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“for so long, i thought i was... someone else. someone straight. and it wasn’t until i met ingrid in wolfsburg that i started to understand myself and everything else.”

your mom’s expression softens, her eyes filling with something you can’t quite place—understanding, maybe, or compassion. she steps closer, reaching out to touch your arm.

“sweetheart,” she says gently, “you could’ve told us. we love you, no matter what.”

“i know,” you say quickly, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. 

“but i was scared. scared of disappointing you guys,.”

your dad steps forward then, placing a hand on your shoulder. “you’re our daughter,” he says firmly. 

“that’s never going to change. and if ingrid makes you happy, then we’re happy for you and our new daughter-in-law.”

the relief that washes over you is almost overwhelming, and you feel the tears spill over as you nod, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips. ingrid squeezes your hand, her own eyes glistening with emotion.

“thank you,” she says softly, her voice directed at your parents. 

“that means a lot to both of us.”

your mom smiles, wiping at her own eyes before pulling ingrid into a hug. “welcome to the family,” she says, her voice warm and sincere. 

“we already loved you, but now you’re officially one of us.”

your siblings chime in then, teasing you about keeping such a big secret while also expressing their excitement. your youngest sister, always the bold one, asks if she can call ingrid her sister-in-law now, and you can’t help but laugh.

“you’ll have to wait for the ceremony in 2026,” ingrid jokes, earning a round of groans and laughter.

“2026?” your mom repeats, her brow furrowing. “why so far away?”

“the euros,” you explain. 

“ingrid will be playing for norway, and i’ll be with our country. it’s going to take up most of next year, so we figured 2026 would give us time to plan something special.”

“well,” your dad says, clapping his hands together, “we’ll be there, no matter when or where it is.”

the rest of the evening is filled with laughter and stories, the initial tension melting away as your family embraces the news. sitting at the kitchen island later, you watch as ingrid chats with your mom, their voices low and easy, as if they’ve known each other forever. 

your dad is in the living room with your siblings, showing them old photo albums, and for the first time in a long time, you feel a deep sense of peace.

this is what you’ve always wanted—acceptance, not just from your family, but from yourself. and now, with ingrid by your side, you finally have it.

masterlist

[sheep-from-rad]

Hi! Sorry if this is weird or anything, this is my first time sending an ask lol

But I just finished reading your writing about the singer/influencer reader and omfg I love your brain. Like imagine the reader did a cover of/wrote like spit in my face by ThxSoMch or Cigarette Ahegao by Penelope Scott (love her sm btw-) cause just imagine the GUILTTT

Imagine the Batfam listening to their music and just hearing the bitterness in their voice as they sing “Screwing everything up, doing everything wrong, In my defence I wasn’t supposed to be around this long, so” HGDECANZZKNFBVD

Anyway, I love your writing and I hope you have an absolutely amazing week! Take care of yourself too- drink water, eat some food and try to get some sleep ml <3

Nah anon you're cool. I love reading asks. ALSO credits to Luludelulusramblings, they made the originally made Influencer reader. Batfam belongs to DC as usual. Singer reader post: here

You know, in the Art History year 1901-1904, Picasso started the Blue Period where he only painted in the shades of Blue. It started due to the death of his friend, later his financial struggles, and of course the current state of the society. Blue Period art was so good but so doleful and depressing that no one wants to hang it in their house. Singer! Reader started their career covering mainstream songs, band songs, maybe even vocaloid. 

Their blue period started months before they planned to leave the manor. It was a simple cover of MARINA’s ‘Are you satisfied?’ A lot of burnt out overachievers ate that cover, even Tim himself. The song is basically the reader questioning the Wayne last name. Sure it was a goldmine to others but to them it’s a ticket to misery. One song cover turned into many song covers, enough to make a long playlist to play at 3 a.m. when you’re about to have a breakdown. 

The whole playlist? Batfam avoids it because it reminds them of the times they could have been giving you love but they didn’t BUT at the same time they can’t really avoid it. It became like those guilty pleasures playlist. Damian loves and hates reader’s ‘The Family Jewels’ cover because it reminds him of the fact that he and the reader are basically on the same boat. They were just children who needed attention and love. He got that attention and love immediately because of the whole league of assassins backstory. He won’t admit it but the weight of the role weighs like tonnes of iron on his shoulders. 

Jason, Bruce and Cigarette Ahegao will roll together so much. That man has twice the amount of trauma Bruce had and his coping mechanism sucks. All the aggressiveness was just a coping mechanism, underneath he’s a man with conflicted feelings and those years of being dead and suddenly being resurrected didn’t help. Let’s face it Bruce is a tired man who lives a double life. He's a man who dresses up like as a bat making sure the city is safe but he can't cover all grounds. The neglect on reader was unintentional but neglect is neglect.

Dick with reader’s cover of ‘Stressed out’ by Twenty one pilots, no explanation needed. ‘This is me trying’ by Taylor Swift with Cassandra, Stephanie, and Tim. Cassandra and Stephanie being raised by villains and Tim being an overachiever to have his parent’s attention. His parents being always away and realizing he basically did the same thing to the reader by making them feel invisible. 

Double guilt if they left the playlist on autoplay and ‘Daddy issues’ plays. Any version but I think the original fits the bill. Reader ends their blue period with a cover of Mother Mother’s ‘Burning Pile’ basically saying ‘Yeah fuck it, it’s over. I’m burning it, I’m leaving it, I’m closing the chapter’. But to the Batfamily, it meant renewal and turning a new leaf, an invitation to make things better.

[ur-local-anti-hero]

Speak now

James Potter x Malfoy!Reader

Summary: If the marauders are against something, its agaisnt pureblood families ideologies. Sometimes that implies to wreak havoc on a white veil occasion.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Fluff and a tiny bit of Angst. Arranged Marriage

CW: Forced Marriage, Familiar problems, talks about blood purity and blood traitors. Breaking into a weddig idk.

Word count: 2.2K

This is part of my Speak Now (Marauders’ version) collection 

“So don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door.

Don't wait, or say a single vow. You need to hear me out”

When you were younger you saw a fair amount of weddings. They were always presented to you as big emotional events in which two people promised eternal love to each other. 

Even when you didn't know anything about love as a kid, it was no wonder that you yearned to have your own wedding once you grew up. It was a dream to have your own white dress, a beautifully decorated venue and a partner you loved so deeply you’d be willing to spend your whole life with them. 

Looking back maybe you should’ve known better. The first sign should’ve been your surname. A Malfoy has expectations they have to meet, keeping the bloodline pure, for starters. 

The second one should’ve been your parents’ loveless marriage, when you were younger you used to wonder why they’d married at all, now it was quite obvious. 

The third and most evident should’ve been when Andromeda Black was disowned. At that time you didn’t truly understand what that entailed, and why it was such a hassle that she wanted to get married. Now you understood that the problem was not the wedding, if not the groom. 

All your fantasies about the commonly named ‘Big day’ were completely shattered when your 18th birthday came, and with it a letter from your parents which contained the name of your soon to be husband. You tried to fight it, which only made your parents move the date of the wedding forward and get you out of Hogwarts, your education didn’t matter anymore to them now that your future as a housewife was inevitable. And being away from Hogwarts also meant being away from the ‘bad influences’ in your life. 

Now the corset of your white dress was suffocating, you felt trapped. Looking at the mirror was like looking at someone else. The girl with lifeless eyes and heavy make-up that couldn’t hide her eyebags was supposed to be you, yet it felt like a perfectly modelated version of yourself, made to impress the high class families attending the wedding. 

Narcissa’s gentle hands were bradding your hair, finishing your look before the wedding. Usually her presence was able to calm you down. Ever since she married your older brother, Lucius, her presence was regular in family gatherings and you’ve always felt some kind of kinship with her, seeking shelter on her whenever the phony and pompous encounters became too overwhelming.

You could attribute your shifted feelings towards her to the fact that she was unknowingly preparing you for eternal misery, or maybe because she was replacing the ones who you would’ve chosen as bridesmaids - there was no place for muggleborns in an event celebrating the union of two pureblood heirs -. Or even because it was her little cousin the one you were to wed. 

“You look beautiful” said Narcissa once she was done with your hair. 

You nodded and gave her a small thank you. However, you disagreed completely, the girl she was looking at was not you, it was your parent’s perfect daughter. 

“You do look lovely, father and mother are going to be delighted” your brother’s voice came from the door, where he was leaning on. “I brought you some company” he gestured behind him. 

Pandora and Dorcas stormed into the room, the former embracing you into a tight hug when they spotted you. Lucius and Narcissa left the room. 

“How are you holding up?” Pandora asked as soon as the door closed behind Lucius and Narcissa. Her arms were still holding you tightly, Dorcas standing behind her. 

You shrugged at her, not being able to talk due the knot in your throat and the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You kept your eyes glued to the mirror. 

Pandora stepped out of the hug and stood next to Dorcas, who had yet to speak. 

“Evan and Barty are with Regulus, I swear I never thought I would see him in a tux” said Dorcas, trying to make conversation. The thought of Regulus being in the same situation as you didn’t make you feel better, the knot in your throat was getting tighther by the second. You promised to yourself you wouldn’t cry anymore, to be honest you thought you had run out of tears days ago. 

“Sirius is here too” Pandora was trying to distract you from the wedding. If she was being honest with herself there was nothing they could do to make you feel better. But maybe knowing that your best friend was out there could help a little. 

That made you finally look away from the mirror, a small wave of hope cursing through you. If Sirius was here it meant that James could be too. In the eyes of your family his family’s name was not good enough for yours, but maybe it was enough for him to be a guest. 

Maybe it was selfish to wish for him to be there when you knew how much it would hurt him, but you needed to talk to him, he was the only one who could actually comfort you right now, the only presence that would make everything feel normal again. You yearned to feel his touch against your skin and his lips against yours, even if it was for one last time, as a farewell. 

“Is he… Is James here?” you spoke for the first time. 

The answer was clear in the pitiful look they gave you even before Pandora replied with a soft ‘no’. 

You don’t know what did it, if the look in the faces of your friends or the fact that you would never see James again, but tears started rolling down your face. In seconds you were being embraced by Pandora again, and Dorcas’ hand was wiping away your tears. 

“It’s okay, you are going to be okay” Pandora didn’t believe her own words, but there was little she could do to calm you down and you both knew it. 

There was a knock on the door and your dad’s voice came from the other side “Y/N, it’s time” 

Pandora gave you a squeeze before letting you go from the hug. They both left the room, not without giving you a forced smile. 

“Oh, merlin” you said to yourself as soon as you were left alone, going back to the mirror, you wiped the few tears that were left on your face, and tried to fix the smudged make-up around your eyes with your fingers. You didn’t want to give your parents the satisfaction of seeing how much this affected you. 

Once you looked mildly presentable again you exited the room. Your father was waiting for you and he offered you his arm to lead you towards the venue. 

You could see the whole venue from the end of the aisle. The green and black motives contrasted beatifully with the white flowers decorating the aisle and the top of the altar. The guests were placed in black chairs at both ends of the aisle. 

You weren’t brave enough to lift your glaze from the ground, knowning that you wouldn’t see the love of your life waiting for you as you had dreamt since you were a kid. The heavy veil of your dress made your steps slow and lethargic. 

It was not until you were halfway down the aisle that you gathered enough courage to finally look at the man in front of you. Instead of the boy with unruly curly brown hair and eyes filled with love, there standing was Regulus, his black hair slicked back and eyes drowned by the same defeated look you wore. 

Once you reached his side everything went in a blur, all you remember is him taking your hands into his and the officiant talking. 

“If anyone has any objection, speak now or forever hold your peace” 

You were really going insane because you swore you saw James standing at the end of the aisle, wearing a tuxedo and with his hand up in the air. 

“I oppose!” His voice was loud and clear, your eyes widened. 

All the guests' eyes went to his figure and several surprised gasps were heard. Maybe you were not hallucinating. 

───✥───

If Fleamont Potter ever found out how James was using his inherited cloak of invisivility he’d be horrified, or maybe oddly proud of his son. 

Not even James thought he would ever sneak into a highly patrolled wedding on a common Tuesday, but honestly if someone had told him a year ago he’d be doing this he wouldn’t be surprised. 

Sneaking in a wedding filled with pureblood families and slytherin students was the perfect setup for a Marauders prank. However, what would have surprised him would’ve been the reason for interrupting a white veil occasion. Dating a Malfoy was something he hadn’t expected to ever do, but you had gotten past all his defenses with your kind and bright personality that proved to be so different from your family’s pretentious ways. 

Therefore, he was now standing on the aisle you had walked minutes ago. He had a perfect view of you and Regulus from his stance, your white dress was gorgeous, and your hair was neatly done. If it weren’t for your puffy and bloodshot eyes, and the obvious defeated look in your face, a look that had no place in a wedding, he could almost believe this was a normal marriage ceremony. 

When you had received the letter from your parents you had been inconsolable, and rightfully so. James had tried everything to stop the wedding, he even went as far as asking your parents for their blessing and to be the one you'd wed instead of the Black heir. Turned out to be useless as his family had been marked as blood traitors for eternity. 

But James isn't known for giving up easily, and the Marauders were not going to let an opportunity to cause havoc pass by. 

With the promise of being on his best behavior, Sirius had convinced his parents to attend the wedding as a guest, acting as a mole for his friends' plans. Remus and Lily were outside the venue with their ride home -a couple of broomsticks they borrowed from Hogwarts' supply closet. 

And the last part of the plan, and its success rested on James' shoulders. 

The preacher spoke 'Speak now or forever hold your peace' James smirked, that was his cue. It was on. 

James took off his invisibility cloak and without a single trace of shame or shyness in his voice James stated loudly "I oppose!"

James would've loved to stop for a moment to memorize the looks of complete horror in the faces of the guests, but he had to be fast and make total use of the element of surprise. 

Without hesitation James sprinted towards the altar. He could see the way your brother had stood up and pointed his wand at him, his spell being intercepted by Sirius' expelliarmus spell. 

As soon as James made it to the altar chaos erupted from everyone in the venue, he could make out the shouts of your parents and some spells that were being intercepted by yours and James' friends. 

At the sight of James Regulus let your hands go, he raised his arms in defeat and left the altar without much hassle. 

"Gentleman" James greeted Regulus' groomsmen, Barty and Evan who were just as stunned as everyone, all they could do was nod in acknowledgement to James, not even trying to interfere. 

"Hi, love" he was finally looking at you, your eyes were wide with surprise and tears were gathered in your waterline. James took your hands in one of his and the other was raised to stroke your cheek. 

“James what- how-” you were completely astonished, and unable to formulate a single phrase. You knew your boyfriend loved you, and the lengths he would go to prove it, but you would have never guessed he’d be willing to break into your wedding ceremony. He was always proving you wrong. 

“Hey Peter, mate, it’s your moment to shine” Following james’ words a rat came out of his pants’ pocket. 

And suddenly Peter was standing in front of you. He pushed the appalled officiant slightly to the side and took his place. 

Peter cleared his throat before speaking “Do you, James Fleamont Potter, take Y/N Malfoy as your wife?” 

“I do” 

“Do you, Y/N Malfoy, take James Fleamont Potter as your husband?” 

You could hardly mutter a low “I do” before Peter spoke again 

“I declare you husband and wife. You might kiss the bride” 

James didn’t hesitate for a moment. To add dramatism he spun you around and dipped you, holding your weight with his arm. And without waiting for another second he kissed you, sweet and slow, conveying all his love for you with that gesture. 

When you became breathless you broke the kiss and looked at James straight into his beautiful eyes, which only show deep adoration. “I love you” you mouthed to him, which made his eyes sparkle with joy and a wide grin to break into face. 

He took you in his arms bridal style and walked down the aisle. You coudln’t even care about the chaos and spells that were aimed your way, all you could look at was James. 

And as he muttered “I love you too, Miss Potter” you knew he’d do anything to prove his love for you. 

Author's note: This one is of my faves of the collection ngl, James is my soft spot Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated. I'd love to hear what you thought about it so don't be shy!! To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Taglist @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsim @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐍𝐨 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

rick sanchez x reader

anon request: please i can request literally anything with rick sanchez acting jealous. Thanks and if you don't accept requests just ignore this tags: sexually suggestive, possessive & obsessive rick, daddy kink notes: minors dni wc: 2.2k

Rick doesn’t get attached.

He is Rick Sanchez. The smartest man, scratch that, creature alive. He isn’t a mere human, he is a God. Whatever Rick wants, he gets. He invented interdimensional travel. He fucked a planet.

Rick doesn’t get attached.

He knows that everything and everyone is replaceable. If someone dies he can just switch universes. Does he lose something? Same thing. Nothing is unique. There are millions of versions of everything. 

Rick doesn’t get attached.

That’s why when you confessed your feelings in a drunken haze Rick yelled at you. Rick thought you were at least smarter than Morty. You should have known that Rick doesn’t do feelings. That you’re nothing special. That you’re just a quick fuck when his cock gets hard and needs some easy pussy wrapped around it.

Rick doesn’t get attached.

He didn’t understand why he felt pressure in his heart when you started crying, endless tears streaming down your cheeks as you apologized after he rejected your feelings. He didn’t understand why he suddenly felt the need to reach his arms out and pull you into a tight embrace. Instead he insulted you as a whiny dumb bitch before disappearing through a green portal.

Rick doesn’t get attached.

So why was he fuming with rage as he saw you cuddled up on the couch with some other man weeks after he told you to fuck off?

A relentless fire, burning away any semblance of rational thought consumed Rick. His eyes smoldered with suspicion at the slightest hint of the man's attention toward you. Rick’s gestures became tense and guarded, his clenched fists betraying the turmoil within. Every smile directed at you from that dude sent a surge of insecurity coursing through Rick’s veins, twisting his features into a mask of possessiveness. Each innocent interaction fueled his rage until it consumed him entirely.

“Wh–Who the fuck is that–that lame fratboy on my couch?!”, Rick didn’t even bother to step closer, his voice dripping with anger. Your eyes shot wide open as you saw the tall scientists near the door. After your confession you avoided him as best as you could – after all you did live with the Smith family ever since your parents (their old neighbors) abandoned you. You never joined an adventure again. You never went into his garage to simply chat with him. You didn’t even ask if you could smoke space-weed. Nothing. That pissed Rick off even more because he caught himself missing you one time too many.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I’m Michael”, Michael was a polite, handsome young man, who attended the same college you did. Smiling, he reached his hand out towards Rick to shake his hand, “Are you y/n’s grandfather?”

If looks could kill every version of Michael would be dead by now. “You’re fuck–fucking stupid.” Rick would’ve loved to just kill that boy or at least cut off Michael’s hand, which was dangerously close to your thigh. You two were way too close for Rick in general. “y/n, who is that? Your new–new lover, huh? You little– Spreading your legs a–already?”

Rick knew he was overstepping it. He should have never said that but he couldn’t help it. You didn’t talk to him for weeks after you said that you love him with all your heart and now you’re with some lame, boring dumbass? Is that what undying love looks like? 

“…You’re a fucking asshole, Rick”, Rick could hear you holding back your tears, the way your eyes started to water, your cheeks painted red. He hurt you – again. Meanwhile Michael had already stood up and made his way over to Rick.

„Listen to m–„ Michael didn‘t stand a chance, Rick immediately interrupted him. 

„Li–Listen to me, shitface. I know– You fratboys are all the fucking–fucking same. You wanna tell me y–you‘re serious about y/n?“, he stepped closer, „You– Could you give her your phone and promise–promise she wouldn‘t find nudes or chats from other pussies?“

Absolute silence. This was all it took for Rick to confirm his suspicions. „Now you‘re si–silent? Jesus. How predictable. Jesus fucking christ. You think just because you’re d–defending her right now she’ll let you have– get a piece of her? You– Do you really think y/n would do that?” More silence though now Michael’s expression almost matched Rick’s. Both were fuming with rage. Rick simply shook his head, pulled out his portal gun and ended up in his garage again. If he would have stayed any longer he would have ended up beating that fratboy to a pulp.

In the dimly lit confines of his garage, the air thick with the pungent scent of portal fluid and vodka, Rick's rage simmered beneath a haze of alcohol fumes. His knuckles whitened around his flask as he gulped down the fiery liquid, each swig fueling the inferno of jealousy and resentment burning within him. The echoes of a heated argument still reverberated in his mind, igniting a storm of emotions that threatened to consume him whole. His bloodshot eyes fixated on nothingness, yet his thoughts were consumed by visions of betrayal and deceit, twisting his features into a contorted mask of fury.

Rick's movements grew increasingly erratic, his drunken stupor amplifying the intensity of his emotions. Each swill from the bottle became a desperate attempt to drown out the insecurities gnawing at his soul. Yet, with every passing moment, the flames of anger raged higher, feeding off his intoxication like a relentless blaze devouring dry timber. Alone in the darkness, he surrendered to the tumultuous tempest raging within, consumed by a toxic cocktail of alcohol, jealousy, and resentment. Resentment towards Michael, you and most importantly – himself.

“Fuck it.”

His plan was to be teleported in the middle of your room, right in front of your bed. Instead he landed right on top of you on your bed. Maybe he really did have too much to drink. But fuck, did he miss this. Your silky hair, your soft skin, your body pressed against his, your eyes staring into his. The faint glow of moonlight filtering through the window accentuated the contours of Rick’s silhouette, casting a seductive allure over the scene. His gaze, intense and unwavering, bore into yours, a silent invitation laden with unspoken desires.

As you laid on the bed, a mixture of melancholia and yearning coursed through your veins, your heart quickening in response to his proximity. The air crackled with tension, charged with the palpable electricity of unspoken words and unfulfilled longing. Despite the intimacy of their proximity, there lingered a delicate balance between attraction and apprehension, a dance of emotions teetering on the edge of possibility. In that fleeting moment, suspended in the hazy embrace of moonlight, you found yourselves ensnared in a silent exchange of desire, your hearts entwined in the delicate threads of possibility.

“What…what are you doing, Rick? Please leave”, your voice was shaking, filled with sadness. Just like a few weeks ago when Rick rejected you. Honestly as the days unfolded, the weight of his decision settled upon him like a heavy shroud, suffocating him with the burden of regret. What once seemed like a reasoned choice now gnawed at his conscience incessantly, tormenting him with the realization of what he had forsaken. In the quiet moments of reflection, your presence lingered in the recesses of Rick’s mind, a constant reminder of the warmth and companionship he had callously turned away. He yearned for a chance to rewind time, to recant his words and embrace the opportunity he had foolishly cast aside. But as the echoes of his rejection reverberated through his thoughts, he grappled with the harsh truth that some wounds inflicted by one's own hand can never fully heal, leaving behind scars of remorse that serve as a painful testament to lost love.

In a moment of raw vulnerability, Rick found himself enveloped by a surge of longing and regret as he reached out to embrace you. His arms wrapped around your trembling form, pulling you close with a tenderness born from the depths of his remorse. With each beat of his heart, Rick felt the weight of missed opportunities and unspoken apologies pressing down upon him, a heavy burden he could no longer bear. As your bodies pressed together, he savored the warmth of your presence, a fleeting glimpse of the connection he had foolishly forsaken. In that embrace, Rick sought solace in the familiarity of your touch, yearning to erase the distance he had allowed to grow between you. But even as he held you close, Rick knew that some wounds run too deep to mend with a simple embrace, and the ache of regret would linger long after your arms had untangled and they parted ways once more. So, he didn’t let go.

“Why– Why did you b-bring that boy over?”, Rick whispered into your ear.

“…Why do you even care?”

With a heavy heart and a tangled web of emotions, Rick mustered the courage to lean back and face you, intent on conveying the depth of his regret for his earlier rejection. His words caught in his throat, a silent plea for forgiveness lingering on Rick’s lips. Yet, beneath the facade of contrition, a different truth simmered—a truth he dared not confess. Deep down, Rick knew that admitting his regret would unravel the carefully constructed walls he had built around his heart, exposing the vulnerability he had long sought to conceal. So, with practiced deceit, Rick masked his true intentions behind a facade of remorse, weaving a tangled web of half-truths and feigned contrition in a desperate attempt to suppress the stirring of emotions he dared not acknowledge. In the shadow of his deception, the echoes of his regret remained unspoken, a silent testament to the complexities of love and the fear of baring one's soul to the object of Rick’s desire.

“Did you– Did you fuck him?”

“Why do you care?”

“y/n, st–stop with this shit. Are you dating him?”

“Why do you care?”

As you persisted, your insistence slicing through the fragile veneer of Rick’s composure, a simmering rage ignited within him, fueling the flames of his resentment. With each passing moment, your few simple words bore deeper into Rick’s wounded pride, stoking the embers of his anger into a blazing inferno. The weight of your expectations pressed down upon him like a suffocating weight, a constant reminder of the vulnerability he sought to shield from your penetrating gaze. Fueled by a toxic cocktail of jealousy and insecurity, his temper flared, unleashing a torrent of pent-up frustration and bitterness.

“What the fuck– What d–do you want to hear, huh?!”, Rick leaned on his hands, which were lying next to your head.

“Rick, listen, you rejected me. You didn’t want me, remember? I can fuck and date however I fucking want! ”

“No! You fucking can’t!”, he screamed into your face, “You said– You said loved me! Talking about– about undying love and now?! Now you get with s–some young bastard from co–college who only wanted to– to fuck you anyway!”

“That’s exactly what you wanted, too! You only wanted to fuck me!”

“That’s not fucking true! I– The last fucking weeks were pure torture. I fucking m–miss you! I can’t fuck–fucking stop thinking about you, y/n. I miss your fucking smell, your h–hair, your voice. Fucking e–everything! I miss your face, the–the way you nag me to drink more water. Jesus fucking christ! I miss you. Why– Why the fuck are crying even more now?!”

With tears of joy streaming down your cheeks, you listened intently as Rick finally mustered the courage to confess the truth hidden behind his guarded facade. As his words washed over you, each syllable laden with the weight of unspoken longing and regret, a floodgate of emotions burst forth within you. Your heart soared with a bittersweet symphony of relief and elation, the echoes of Rick’s confession resonating deep within your soul. The tears that spilled from your eyes were not born of sorrow, but of an overwhelming sense of gratitude and validation, as you realized that the love you had held in your heart had not been in vain.

In a tender moment suffused with the weight of unspoken truths and undeniable desire, Rick leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours in the hazy embrace of the moonlit room. With a gentle touch, Rick cradled your face in his hands, his fingers tracing the contours of your skin. As your lips met in a fervent kiss, time seemed to stand still, the world falling away to leave only the two of you entwined in the delicate dance of passion and longing. With each caress, the walls he had built around his heart crumbled, leaving him vulnerable and exposed in the embrace of her warmth. In that moment of intimacy, you surrendered to the magnetic pull of your shared desire, bodies entangled in a silent symphony of love and redemption.

“You know– You know I’m not good with…emotions and shit. But– But you’re important to me and–and I’m not letting another man touch what’s mine.”

“You were jealous?”

“I wasn’t– Fuck it. Yes, yes, I was. Wanted to k–kill that motherfucker. The way he–he had his arm around–”, in the middle of his rant you wrapped your legs around Rick’s waist, pulling him closer. His crotch pressing against yours.

“Just so you know, I have been very, very lonely the last few weeks.”

“Oh? S–So you’ve been a good–good girl for daddy, huh?”, it didn’t take long for Rick to get hard, his bulge pressing against you, his hand now choking you slightly, “F–fuck, princess, daddy’s going to–to reward you for being so patient.”

[writingforatwistedworld]

Hii, I'm glad you're back . Even if it was for a few days you really left a place in tumblr not just for your work but for your presence itself.

I had a question for a while and I'm sorry if you answered it before and I seemed to not notice , if that's the case then forgive my ignorance but I was wondering , since sebek seems to respect his grandfather alot and has inherited the hate for humans from him and it's a known fact in self-aware au that the faes 'love' the overseer alot I must say.. does that mean that sebek also inherited his 'love' for the overseer from his granpa? If so how did green grandpa see the overseer, what made him 'love' them and how does he show it .

If you don't want to write this then feel free to ignore it , hope you have a great day and don't forget to drink water and eat well<33

Hi there Anon. It's so sweet of you to say that. I didn't think I would have made such an impression on anyone. But I completely forgot to write about Sebeks grandfather -_-

Well, better late than never.

Self-aware au

WARNINGS: Jp-version spoiler (like, the whole thing!!!), (Platonic!) yandere themes, war, religion, unhealthy mindset, isolation, unhealthy family dynamic

(Platonic!) Yandere headcanons

Ah yes, our local way too loud and loyal member of the reptilian family. No need to to worry about him. I mean, what could go wrong? (Hehe…)

Baul was not from the Valley of Thorns. Growing up in Sunset Savannah he did not grow up with the beliefs of the Faes (in other words, he was not part of a religious cult)

So imagine the huge shock he felt when he finally became a solider under the Draconia banner and started to become more and more like the other Faes

Well, for starters, yes, he wasn't indoctrinated into the whole church thing since birth but also wasn't raised to see you as an equal like the beastmen of the Savannah

You could say that he was a healthy mixture of both

Emphasis on the “was”

You see, isolation and being the only one sticking out (if we discount the humans invading the valley) does leave you open for a lot of things

If we count two (being the surroundings he was in) and two (his more or less unnoticed loneliness) together, we can see pretty fast where that led

Never mind his superior (and friend I mean come on they might as well be brothers) Lilia constantly rambling about the Overseer, savior of all, and how you accepted everyone in your kind embrace

Ok. Nice. Neat. Great. In the beginning, Baul wasn't very interested in joining any kind of religion

But the longer the war held on, the more he wished there was someone he could ask for help in his task of protecting those he deemed close to himself (you see the generational pattern?)

At some point, even the proudest of all can't hold on for forever

So he turned to you, the supposed God that was on so gentle

And goddamn that religious gaslighting and placebo effect worked damn well

Not only did he feel like there was someone there who supported him from somewhere in the universe (even though that was just him believing too much but let have him have some hope, ok?) but also he finally had a community

Whenever he would leave one of the many churches in the valley a Fae would approach, thanking him for protecting their home

Sooner than later did the former non-believer think of himself as your chosen shield of the valley

The war came and went away

If only the same thing could be said about Bauls new religious beliefs

And when he saw that grandson of his, cute little chubby hands that gripped a wooden toy sword tightly, he knew that his position as the valleys shield would not cease

Yes, even Baul would die one day. Fae or not, he was at the end of the day mortal

But that talent of his grandson would surely be of use to you, right?

If his younger self would see him like this, would it run away? Would it feel disgust at the thought that his future self would use his own grandson for selfish, religious reasons?

If only Baul knew that “God” didn't even know they were living beings that existed in a different world…

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 ꒱ 박성호

summary : you and your husband were throwing a bbq party, and sungho has somehow convinced you he was going to grill

genre : fluff, husband!sungho x afab!reader, girldad!sungho, non-idol!au, bbqdad!au tws : kisses, language, bad bbq puns, father sungho author notes : this is zanna's fault for indulging my delusions word count : 1.3k

“hey babygrill.” 

you turned, “sungho—”

“is it hot grill summer?” he asked, a wood-handled, metal spatula clutched between his fingers. “because you’re smoking hot.” you cringed, holding back a laugh as he leaned sideways, fingers turning the dial on the front of the grill. the vein in his neck strained with the angle, making it prominent against the midday sunlight. the defined muscles of his arms flexed, and you stared like you’d never seen him before—even though you’d been married to him for two years now, dating him for three before that. you reached out, tracing the lines, feeling the heat from the grill and sun combine against his untainted-tan skin. 

“i’m going to get our daughter ready,” he ignored your touch, knowing it wasn’t anything new. he liked it though, knowing you weren’t like that before him. “myself, too.”

“sure, babe.” he replied, hovering his palm a few inches over the metal rack he had cleaned just a couple minutes ago. “go ahead. i’ve got this all under control.”

who was he really trying to convince? you thought. your husband wasn’t a master chef by any means, but when you craved late-night snacks, he was definitely the man for the job.

“are you sure,” you quizzed. “maybe don’t start until i get back?”

“my love,” he met your eyes, head still slightly hung as he adjusted the heat. his longer hair fell to the side effortlessly, cascading like a waterfall. “i’ll be fine.”

“oh no,” you laughed. “i’m worried about my house, sungho.” 

he faked being offended. “what the hell? i’m a great chef!”

“you’re great at a lot of things, baby, there’s no doubt about it, but cooking just isn’t one of them.” his fake started to become genuine, arms crossing over his broad chest. you tried hard not to stare again. “right now!” you added, “practice makes perfect! but, just wait for me to supervise. i would like for there to be a backyard to have this party in…” you kissed his shoulder. “please?” 

ultimately, you always won him over. “fine, i’ll cut up stuff for the sides instead.” you weren't sure about that either, however it’s something you’ve made him do often for you. so, it should go fine, shouldn’t it? “but, hurry, i’d like to get these burgers sizzling. you could say, the steaks are high, right now, y/n. want them to be grate for our family and friends.” 

you mentally facepalmed. when did you marry such a cheesy guy? you guess it's for the best that he became a dad after all, with these (terrible) jokes of his. 

you left him to attend to the vegetables for the burgers, finding your daughter in front of a fan on the couch, basking in the air that blew directly in her face. bluey was playing on the TV, the accents rubbing off on her slightly. 

she lit up, “mommy!”

“hi, baby.” you plopped down next to her, and she instantly nozzled against your side. “do you wanna bet on daddy burning something?” 

she eyed you, then nodded, “seven fruit snacks.” you hummed, seemingly thinking it over. but before you had the chance to agree, she added, “and 45 minutes past bedtime.”

you cocked your head, slightly in disbelief, but mostly in amusement. 

“deal.” you held your hand for her to take, which she did (hand significantly smaller than yours) closing the bargain. “i have faith in my husband.” 

you lied, but regardless, you honestly wanted your miniature version to win.

you silently watched a couple more minutes with her, glancing at the clock on the wall. you threaded your hand through her hair, thinking about the styles you could put it into today; ultimately knowing what your kid would prefer. 

“first one ready gets dessert before dinner!”

she jumped off the couch, small legs carrying down the hall and presumably to the bathroom. you followed after a moment, hearing the water start to run.

once finished, you joined sungho outside again, prepared for guests to start showing up. he had to do a double take when you walked out, and if this was a cartoon, you feared his eyes would’ve been popping out of his head. 

“woah,” he snaked his hands around your waist, after abandoning the grill carelessly, planting a couple kisses against your lips and surrounding skin. “damn, are you a5 wagyu?” he murmured, eyes roaming over your figure, “‘cause you look expensive.”  

you caught the look your (almost) three year old daughter gave him; the same one she gave tomatoes. you stifled a laugh against his lips.  

“ew, daddy!” she shrieked at your kiss, wiggling in your arms to push him back. “that’s my mommy!” she argued, throwing her small limbs around your neck and puckering her lips against your cheek. 

“i’m sorry, baby.” he put his palm to your daughter's head gently, kissing her temple. “I’m just letting your mom follow my apron’s instructions.” he revealed said tightly-tied clothing: kiss the chef adorned with fake abs (not that he needed them) printed on it. once again, you wondered when you married such an unserious guy. 

she began to hysterically laugh, and you guffawed, sungho taking her from you gladly. she hugged around his neck, “damn girly, you got a grip.” she squeezed tighter, kissing his cheek too. “i almost passed out!” that prompted a competition between the two, giggles sounding throughout the backyard as your daughter hugged tighter and tighter. 

you were only interrupted when his parents voices cut through the noise, “where’s my pretty princess of a granddaughter?” suddenly said girl was pushing from your husband, trying her hardest to be put down; her grandparents were arguably her second-favorite people. they took care of her during your date-nights and any other time sungho would ask. you’d never had a good relationship with your parents, but you were glad that they took you in for your daughter and husband's sake. 

they met your side, gaining a hug from you. 

“daddy! put me down!” she whined, causing you to giggle at the sight, “please!” 

he shook his head, attacking her with more hugs and kisses. 

it was refreshing to see such a man who wasn’t afraid to show his love and adoration for someone–especially his daughter. 

finally she broke free, running the short distance to sungho’s dad and jumping into his arms. she resumed the game with him, arms wrapping around his neck. 

“i made you something last night!” her attempt to get put down was easier than before, and once she hit the ground she was off, ushering her grandma and grandpa to follow into the house. “c’mon, it’s for your fridge!” 

sungho met your side once again, arm around your midsection, your head laid on his shoulder. you were glad you started a family with him of all people, even though when you were younger you weren't sure you would ever have wanted kids; but everything just felt so safe and secure with him. every doubt and uncertainty was put to rest when he was around. 

“she converted me into a girl-dad.” 

you laughed, “babe, you’ve always been a girl dad. do you remember when we found out, no one cried harder than you did.” 

he waved you off with a pfft sound, “she’s just so adorable, you can’t blame me.” he broke away, arms up innocently, standing back. “she’s a miniature version of you.” 

you spun to face him, “no, she’s exactly like you, baby. terrible humor, no respect for bedtime, fluffy-ass hair.” 

a hum resonated. he was staring again, eyes flicking over you casually. “should we have another, you think? another girl, but i’d love a miniature version of me, too.” your eyebrows rose in amusement, until your attention found itself locked behind him on the copious amount of smoke. 

“it’s burning.” 

“yeah, i know.” he said in a duh-tone, words adorned with his eyes rolling, “you’re hotter than the grill.”

“no, babe.” you grabbed his bare shoulders, spinning him around. “there’s actually a fire right now.” 

“oh my god!” you didn’t need to be facing him to see his eyes go wide, shoulders tensing under your grip. you giggled, sungho moving quickly to grab the tongs from the side table and move the food from the flame that had developed. “why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, slightly frantic. 

“i guess you could say… missteaks were made.”

he turned slowly, a shit-eating grin across his face, “i knew you liked them.”

of course you did. it was sungho. 

suddenly a voice called out, “mommy, you owe me my fruit snacks!”

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[lunaekalenda]

warnings!: a bit drunk sylus, so mentions of alcohol and consume of it

your hometown seems prettier than ever with sylus walking by your side, with your hand entwined with his, as his voice hums some sweet song while you approach your old house's main entrance. the tall man smiles at you, his red eyes shining tenderly, as he knocks on the door.

all your memories - your childhood, the smell of food, the paintings hanging on the walls - hit you as soon as the door opens. sylus introduces himself to them, to your family, to those tied to you by blood and those that became part of it. he patiently hears the elder's talk about their young days, they way they embarrass you with stories of when you were younger, the way they compliment him and how he looks at you with a playful grin. he kneels to be able to talk with the younger ones, the ones that tell him he looks like a prince, whom ask for a game after lunch. sylus - your present and your future, the man that promised to protect you, the one you want to be with for the rest of your life - and them - your past, the ones that made you became who you are now, who shaped you, who forged your virtues and defects. - merge so well, as if all the pieces that took so long to repair inside of you were finally glued by the sound of their shared laughter.

lunch happens without any incident, apart from the continuous questions to a very confident sylus, and suddenly it's already time for the after lunch. bottles and bottles of exquisite local liquor and other alcohols run through the table while the kids play in the background. even when your man has a really strong alcohol tolerance, you fear maybe they're giving him too many things to try.

"sylus, maybe... that's enough." you see how the next shot -this time, pomace cream- slides into his mouth, with a drop running down his lip, that he's quick to catch with his tongue. he gives you a quick kiss, leaving a sweet flavor on them.

"i'm alright, love. it would be rude to refuse." but their tolerance outpaces your boyfriend's. green liquors, coffee ones, strawberry creams... he tries at least a shot of all of them, and even when he's being polite and rejecting most of the glasses, your family keeps insisting on the most famous ones. the elders pat his shoulders and you stand up quickly, taking your boyfriend's arm and walking towards the upper flat with a poor excuse. "please, forgive us. we're very tired of the trip, and we would like to rest. we'll be in my old room."

going upstairs, sylus walks by your side, tangling his arm on your waist and following you closely. as soon as you arrive, you see the old couch you used to spend so many afternoons in, reading a book, playing a game or watching a show. before being able to arrive to your old room, sylus turns around and, with a smile, he kisses the tip of your nose. seeing this version of him - so blushed, so soft, so tipsy.- makes your heart flutter.

"you're so drunk, sylus. i knew i shouldn't have let you stay for the afterlunch." he laughs and lets all his tall body fall in your couch, way too small for his body. he seems uncomfortable, so you guide him to lie properly. "here. your feet. now your knees, bend them." his movements mimic your orders, and his eyes are focused on you with attention.

"and now?" he asks. his voice sounds sleepy, but he's incredibly attentive to you.

"your hands under your head." he does so, and you kneel near him, his face close to yours. he hums.

"you could just buy a bigger couch." he whispers, glancing at his knees. "you can't fit here with me if my knees are not straight." his faces turns into a pout, before looking back at you. his red, sleepy eyes in contrast with his white, wild hair. he smiles sweetly. "but don't worry, love." he stretches his body, letting his feet hang from the couch, and resting his back against the cushions. "i can sleep with my feet outside the couch, but not without you." his hand moves to your cheek, caressing it, the very most sincere gaze you've seen from him looking directly at you. so full of love, of affection and happiness; of desire, of willing, of sweetness, of devotion. all the feelings he always tries to demonstrate to you, to tell you, to shout to everyone; caged in such a passional red-shade eyes.

his hand caresses your cheek, your jaw, your neck. it follows the pace of the same song he has been humming all day, some local tune he heard on the radio on your drive here. it's slow, pleasant, subtle; and his thick voice, roughened by sleep and alcohol, welcomes you to hear more of it. his hand quickly reaches your arm, pulling you sweetly towards the couch, making room for you in front of his body, facing him. his chest rises and falls with each quiet breath, and your bodies are too close. he sighs.

"are you alright, love? comfortable?" you nod a couple times against his collarbone. he smiles, even when you can't see him. you silently thank fate for bringing him into your life, for the smell of his cologne that feels like being home, for the warmth of his hands on your lower back, for the way you tangle your legs between his.

"forget the bigger couch, i think we should get one this size for our home." his sudden words make you laugh, quickly passing in on to him. his embrace becomes stronger and you close your eyes, face buried on his chest, feeling the laughs and the chats of the floor below. you smile.

maybe he's all you've been searching for.

"sylus." you fear he's asleep, but his low "hm?" reaches your ears.

"i love you."

the room falls silent for what seems to be hours, but you feel how his grip tighten, his body pressing even closer to yours as he takes a deep breath.

"i love you. i love you so much, so much more"

[bunbotbuggiman]

au where the peak lords reincarnate as Bingge's quarter demon spawn

saw a post (https://www.tumblr.com/cursed-angelic-art/686056254886559744/do-you-think-mobei-jun-is-the-one-playing-father) talking abt if mbj "played dad" for og lbh's army of kids and-

au where the peak lords reincarnate as Bingge's quarter demon spawn

they all have different mothers but are all the same age- were born the same year-

even sqq, who's nyy's favorite kid (because he reminds her of her shizun, during the good days before lbh became a disciple) despite not being her kid (she herself never had any kids, which doesn't bother her as much because neither did lmy or shl and they're the head wives still so) (in the same vein, Liu Mingyans favorite kid is the one who behaves most like her late brother)

This world's version of Shen Yuan, however, was born as the son of one of mbj's advisors, before said advisor and his family died in a tragic accident. so he was adopted by mobei-jun and shang qinghua at the ripe old age of barely a few weeks old.

His name: Mo Yuan, named after an old friend of Shang Qinghua's from his secret pre-transmigration life (In this world, SY is not a transmigrator.... maybe he is a reincarnation.... but there's no real way to tell, he sure doesn't remember anything)

So he's an ice demon. looks like Shen Yuan but everything about him is like 30 shades more MBJ. he adores his parents, and his parents adore him, and because of this mutual adoration he has successfully grown up completely secure in his status as their child in spite of fully knowing of his adopted status.

This being said, there are very few individuals who also know this fact, because since the transition was so fast (and because Shang Qinghua knows stuff, and Mobei-Jun knows he knows stuff) they just bullshit it and say that Mo Yuan is a magical plant baby who was born as a full demon in spite of technically being a half demon because of magic plant bullshit.

He looks enough like shang qinghua to make it believable anyways, so it's fine.

Mo Yuan and Shang Qinghua also have a really weird relationship where MY at some point got into Shang Qinghua's writings (only the age appropriate stuff.... he found out about the porn at a later age) and violently hated it, but Shang Qinghua found it:

A. funny that his son was so violently opinionated and

B. thought it was important that his son be able to have an outlet for these emotions so he honestly encouraged it.

So now they have a really close parental relationship but also are kind of friendly-close because when Mo Yuan found some of SQH's writings, he immediately was like "oh my god Baba you suck???? at writing????? How?????? You are a scribe???? This is so awful???? Baba, you could do this better, and this better, and- what the hell, take this out, oh my god..."

Also, his name in the au is 漠垣 Mo Yuán meaning North[ern] Wall, but his courtesy name is 漠 雪峰 Mo Xuefēng, meaning North[ern] Snow[y] Peak.

However, he is beloved by much of the palace staffers, who have watched him grow up much closer than any of Luo Bingge's children, who mostly grow up in the relative isolation of their courtyards and palaces and palace wings, so he is referred to by many of them by his nickname, 雪花 Xuehua, meaning snowflake.

So anyways, he meets + kinda grows up alongside many of the peak lords because he grows up spending a lot of time in the palace by virtue of his dads being, well, Mobei Jun and Shang Qinghua.

Shang Qinghua and Liu Mingyan, shippers prime and book club buddies into this universe (though Mo Yuan staunchly ignores all of LMY's writings because his face is wayyy too thin for that) immediately sees the way that the various children of Luo Bingge climb over each other in desperate attempts to charm and woo the chilly Mo Xuefeng...

and maybe eventually, how one son of Luo Bingge looks at him and how Mo Yuan looks back.

(I haven't decided what I want the pairing to be here.... oopsies y'all, come to y'alls own conclusions ig lmaooo)

[directdogman]

(Sorry if I have bad English, I'm from Spain.)

I'm super hyperfixated on the original managers, so I have 2 questions.

1. In Dialtown, Tango/Terrence says no one called him Tango before. Assuming that in the DSaF universe he also liked that nickname, did any of the other original managers call him Tango or not?

2. A headcanon I've seen in the DSaF fandom is that Abel hated everyone BUT the real Scott Cawthon, and that Scott was the only one that tolerated Abel (some ppl even ship them). Is that close to canon? Or the og Scott Cawthon also hated Abel? I really want to know what they thought about each other.

Btw, I really love your games, I've played the DSaF trilogy many times, and the Dialtown demo (I haven't played the full version of Dialtown yet, but I've seen gameplays and I'll buy it for my birthday), thank you for making 4 incredible games <3

I don't answer many DSaF questions these days, but this one's interesting so here goes:

1)Tango's nickname is a DT invention as far as I remember. If he preferred the name in DSaF's universe, Harry would've used it for sure, given how much he liked Terrence and since he's literally using a name he doesn't believe is really 'his' because it makes him feel better. He of all people would understand.

2)Yeah, that's a pretty good way of stating it, but there's a little more nuance to it that explains a little bit more about Abel/Joe's rift.

Basically, the original Scott Cawthon was a unifying figure. He got on with every single one of the original managers and they all thought the world of him. The Phone Guy process was started in an attempt to recreate him by Abel (and the other managers at first) and you gotta consider why they'd all want to do that. He was the glue that held the group together, the only manager liked by everyone else there without exception, someone who could defuse tension and resolve conflicts amicably.

It's true that he had the most patience for Abel and never badmouthed Abel to the other managers and even defended him earnestly, knowing Abel the best of the other managers and knowing some of Abel's early life and where he came from, while the others were more willing to honestly discuss Abel's short fuse and occasionally mean nature (even Terrence to some extent!) This led Abel to develop more of a bond with him than the other managers and somewhat distrust the others.

While Abel was essentially Scott's number 2, as time went on, Joe became more and more integral to the running of their budding company, since he was a skilled accountant and managed to balance the books despite Scott's somewhat reckless spending at times (he was overgenerous to the point where it sometimes led to financial trouble for the company, a stark contrast to what Freddy's became later.) Since Joe was so blunt (and Abel's biggest critic), Abel was incredibly jealous and insecure that if the trend continued, Joe would supplant him.

This also explains why Abel was so willing to toss his other managers into the 'machine' when each of them suffered accidents. Ultimately, it wasn't just sheer cowardice, it was him trying to recreate the past - to recreate the one person who seemingly saw him as anything other than a vampire. Someone who actually wanted him around. Of course, no two snowflakes are ever exactly the same. Abel was a poor replacement as the owner of the company, Joe was barely able to keep things afloat amidst a messy and chaotic expansion and Harry wound up presiding over the company's demise.

There's a pretty widespread narrative theme in DSaF of damaged people trying to recreate something they've lost - Dave trying to turn Jack into the new Henry, Jake and his family, Harry and his former identity, the Kennedy family reuniting.

“Can’t repeat the past? Why, of course you can!”

But, the fact is, you can't recreate the past. The only way forward is to pick up the pieces and build something new.

[baelarys]

๛𝐌𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

Aegon ii targaryen x Reader tully x Aemond targaryen

word count : 1750

Warning :Infidelity,anguts, bad words

Note:This was a Request but I accidentally lost the comment I hope you see it,I did my best, I hope this is what you wanted or close to it,I don't do smut, I'm sorry, but I hope you still like it.

I never believed that what started as a simple rumor would spread so quickly. I never imagined that a few exchanged words would lead you and Aegon to something more than just flirting in the corridors.

It was just a couple of nights, furtive meetings behind your husband, Prince Aemond's back. No one was supposed to suspect, but unfortunately, that wasn't the case. When you gave birth to your second son, Aenys, you hoped that inheriting Valyrian features like his father would dispel any suspicions, but the resemblance to Aegon was undeniable.

Your older son was undoubtedly a miniature version of Aemond—same gaze, straight hair, and a fine, small face. But Aenys had rounder features and wavy hair. Thankfully, those rumors never became an impediment for Aemond. He loved his children and was always there for them, whether to play or to tell them stories.

You held the little baby in your arms while Baelor played with small wooden toys on the floor. Suddenly, a shout of excitement echoed in the room.

"Kepa!" Baelor exclaimed upon seeing his father enter through the door.

"Rūklon zaldrīzes" Aemond said, lifting the little one in his arms with a smile.

"Husband" you greeted as Aemond approached to plant a kiss on your cheek.

Since Aegon's coronation as the new king, Aemond was constantly away. With a war on the horizon, securing the support of all the houses was crucial, and Aemond took on that task diligently.

Aemond sat on the floor next to Baelor, who proudly showed him his wooden toys.

"Look, Kepa, I made a dragon" Baelor said, holding up a roughly carved figure.

Aemond smiled and took the toy in his hands. "It's a very fierce dragon, Baelor. What's its name?"

"Vhagar! " Baelor exclaimed enthusiastically.

You chuckled softly from your seat, watching the interaction with tenderness. Aemond placed the baby on the floor, allowing him to crawl towards his older brother.

"Rūklon zaldrīzes" Aemond murmured as he watched the little one explore the world around him.

Baelor started playing with his brother, carefully showing him his toys and making sure the baby didn't get hurt. Aemond, relaxed for the first time in weeks, joined his sons in play, creating a tower of wooden blocks and helping Baelor knock it down with a hearty laugh.

You decided to join in the game. "How about we read a story?" you suggested.

Baelor jumped with excitement. "Yes, yes! A story!"

"Good idea." Aemond nodded, smiling.

You got up and fetched a storybook from the shelf. You found one of Baelor's favorites, filled with tales of dragons and knights. Sitting on the floor with the baby in your lap, Baelor snuggled up beside you, and Aemond sat nearby, forming a family circle.

You opened the book and began to read, using different voices for each character. The baby listened attentively, his big curious eyes following every movement. Baelor was absorbed in the story, his eyes shining with excitement as he followed the adventure.

As the story progressed, the room filled with warmth and tranquility. It was a moment of peace and unity, away from the worries of the outside world.

When you finished the tale, you closed the book gently and looked at your family. Baelor yawned, clearly ready for bed, while the baby was already half asleep in your arms.

"I think it's time for bed" you said with a smile.

Aemond nodded, getting up to take Baelor to his bed. He followed you with the baby in his arms, making sure both children were comfortable and tucked in.

When Aemond approached Aenys's crib, you noticed how he scrutinized the baby. Before you could say anything, Aemond apologized and said he needed to discuss some matters with Ser Criston. That eased your mind a bit; at least you wouldn't have to confront Aemond at the moment.

You could hear the sound of guards hurriedly walking through the halls, but you decided not to pay much attention. Suddenly, your door swung open and two guards entered urgently, quickly scanning the room.

"What's happening?" you asked with concern.

"Prince Jaehaerys is dead" one of the guards responded, bowing his head "The king demands your presence."

Shock and grief instantly washed over you, but there was no time to process. You quickly made your way to Aegon's chambers. The castle was eerily silent, a reflection of the tragedy that had just struck the royal family. Upon opening the doors, you saw Aegon sitting in one of the armchairs in his room, his expression lost and his body weighed down by sadness.

Your heart broke seeing your brother-in-law like this. You approached him cautiously, trying not to startle him.

"Aegon" you called softly.

Aegon looked up, his eyes red and filled with tears. You knelt beside him, taking one of his hands in yours.

"I'm here, Aegon" you said gently and reassuringly.

Without saying a word, you embraced him tenderly, allowing him to cry on your shoulder. You felt the weight of his grief, and a deep sadness washed over you for the loss of your nephew. You stayed strong, holding him as he let out his anguish.

"I'm so sorry, Aegon" you whispered, softly stroking his back "There are no words for this pain, but I'm here with you."

Aegon nodded weakly, clinging to you like an anchor in the midst of a storm. "Why... why him?" he asked between sobs.

"I don't know" you answered honestly "Life can be terribly unfair. But we'll always remember him, and his memory will live on in our hearts."

Suddenly, he pulled away slightly, his eyes darkened by growing rage. "This wasn't an accident" he said in a low voice, but filled with hatred "It was Rhaenyra. I'm sure of it. That witch has always wanted to destroy me. She's taken my son's life to hurt me, to weaken us!"

You fell silent, feeling the intensity of his fury. It was a pain mixed with hatred, a dangerous combination that could consume him.

"I don't need proof!" he shouted, rising abruptly from the chair "It was her. She's always coveted the throne, and now she's willing to kill her own blood to get it. She'll pay for this! I swear she'll pay!"

You stood up and embraced him again, trying to calm him down. "I understand your pain and your anger, Aegon. But we must be careful. Blind vengeance will only bring more suffering."

Aegon breathed heavily, his body trembling with anger. Slowly, his breathing calmed a little, but the spark of hatred in his eyes still burned.

"I won't let her get away with this, Y/N. Not after this" he murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper.

–––––––––––

It had only been a couple of days since Prince Jaehaerys's death, and the atmosphere in the castle had become tense and somber. The loss of an heir had left a void that couldn't be ignored, and both Otto and Alicent were starting to worry about the lack of a clear successor for Aegon.

In a private meeting in the council chamber, Aegon, visibly affected by grief and anger, made an abrupt decision.

"I have decided that Aenys will be my heir" Aegon announced, his voice firm but laden with emotion.

Otto and Alicent exchanged concerned looks. Otto was the first to speak.

"Your Majesty, I understand your pain and the need to secure succession, but we must consider all options. Baelor is the elder of your nephews, and it would be fairer to name him as heir."

Alicent nodded, supporting her father's words. "Baelor is a good boy. Besides, it would be more appropriate to follow the natural line of succession."

Aegon clenched his fists, his expression hardening. "No. Aenys will be the heir. It's my decision."

The tension in the room increased, every glance filled with distrust and concern. Finally, Otto sighed and nodded, knowing that pushing further would only make things worse.

After the meeting, you found yourself alone with Aemond in one of the castle's corridors. His expression was serious, his eyes searching yours with intensity.

"We need to talk" Aemond said, his voice tense but controlled.

"I've tried to ignore them, but I can't anymore" Aemond said with tension "Is Aenys my son?"

"Of course he is" you began to respond, but Aemond interrupted you, his voice filled with emotion.

"I want you to be honest!" he exclaimed, his eyes desperately seeking the truth in yours.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself and find the right words. "Aemond, I understand your doubts, but I assure you that Aenys is your son. The rumors are just that rumors. They're designed to divide us and sow mistrust."

"Sure? Because apparently people don't think so" Aemond said, cornering you against the wall, his anger vibrating in his voice "I'll ask once more: Is Aenys my son?"

You felt a lump in your throat, fear and anguish mixing inside you. You tried to defend yourself, but the words were stuck, unable to come out. You couldn't lie to him.

"Aemond, please…"you murmured, your voice barely audible, struggling against the weight of his gaze. You know I love you.

"That doesn't answer my question, Y/N" he replied, his eyes cold and filled with distrust. I want the truth.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the strength to face him. Tears began to fill your eyes.

You shook your head as you wiped away the tears that slid down your cheek.

"Aemond, please let me explain" you said, your voice shaking as you tried to contain the emotions that were overwhelming you "It was a mistake, a terrible mistake that I regret every day. But Aenys is our son in every way that matters."

Aemond looked at you with a mix of pain and fury, his breathing heavy and his eyes burning with an intensity you hadn't seen before.

"How could you?" he asked, his voice low and full of bitterness. How could you betray me like this?

"It wasn't intentional, Aemond" you murmured, tears flowing again. " It was a moment of weakness, an impulsive decision that I cannot undo. But I love you, I have always loved you."

Aemond walked away from you upset, you could hear the sound of his footsteps walking away, you felt terrible as a wave of anger and regret washed over you, you tried to silence your sobbing as best you could as you wiped away your tears and returned to your room.

[yallthemwitches]

Some thoughts on Lily Evans (Headcanons and other musings)

Headcanon things

---I think she really struggled internally about "not belonging" in both the muggle and wizard community. I couldn't imagine finding out I was part of some special group that made my family members ostracize me, THEN joining said new community to find that I am actually discriminated against and considered lesser. I don't think she was on the nerd level of say Hermione, but I think she really wanted to prove herself.

--I don't think she wore a bra. I use this in my fics a lot not just because it could be taken sexy, but because it would've been trendy at the time in the 70s. I think Lily would have kept up with the politics of the muggles and the wizarding world, and I would imagine she would be keen to follow the feminist movement.

--I'm really not of fan of the swarmy, bookish version of Lily that purveyed often in fics (I see more diversity now but back 10 years ago Lily was like some studious angel all the time.) We know she was smart and teachers loved her, but we also see a lot of anger and cheekiness from her too. I think James wouldn’t have been half as attracted to her if she was just a know it all. I imagine she was really sarcastic and quippy.

--I think Lily thought about fancying Remus in earlier years---to the point that in 4th year she turned on him quickly one day during prefects rounds and kissed him, immediately realized she felt nothing, and then they both agreed to stay friends and never speak of it (James would have died if he knew). After then, Lily had the habit of giving him a kiss on the cheek as greeting/goodbye (think of it as the french bisous, not like a real cheek kiss) and Sirius would always joke about "Where his kiss was"---which prompted Lily to draw real close to him ( making James feel jealous and uncomfortable) before yelling at him to fuck off.

--When Sirius and Lily became friends, they really became friends. They both confided in each other about being the family outsiders, they spent lots of study time listening to music, and she was always able to keep up with his sarcastic and self deprecating style of humor. Whenever Sirius would conjure rock music to play in the corridors, Lily always was the last of the prefects to put a stop to it. She would often spend time in the boys dorms even if James wasn't there to shoot the shit with Sirius and she often was his insider into all the cool muggle things he missed out on.

---Petunia peddled the idea that Lily was a "Hippie type" to Vernon and her friends upon being questioned and Lily really leaned into this gladly. She was very amused by the muggle occult craze in the 60s-70s and found a lot of enjoyment visiting muggle "esoteric shops" and getting books from them. This trait would later be adopted by the marauders who would take some of her muggle “occult magic” books and try to reproduce the (ridiculously fake) spells (often leading in explosions or very bad consequences seeing as the muggle “spells” were all a hoax and couldn’t stand up to real magical attempts). When she was home from the summer it was not uncommon for her to be reading a book by Aleister Crowley on the front stoop.

---Lily hated flying despite James' many tries to get her to enjoy it (he mostly liked that she was scared and held onto him more). Contrary to this, she loved Sirius motorbike. It felt more natural to her despite still being a flying object ( and despite both James and Sirius flying it in the most haphazard way possible.)

--One thing that drew Lily to James was his interest and love for muggle pop culture. I imagine Lily tried often to get Snape to listen to Joni Mitchell or have a laugh at how muggles depicted wizards/witches in film, but Snape didn't see the worth in doing those things---wanting to focus on the wizarding world. James on the other hand ate all of it up--he would jump at the chance to watch Carrie or The Wicker Man. Even before dating James, I think Snape's disdain for all things muggle was off putting to Lily, who saw just as much to learn from muggles as she did from the wizarding world.

Reference things

---I base a lot of my fic Petunia/Lily relationships off of the British show Fleabag. I HIGHLY recommend it and I think its a great example of two sisters who are completely at odds with each other. I think Lily and Petunia's relationship would be much more complicated obviously due to their reasoning for falling out, but I think in general its a great depiction of two sisters who don't get along. I admittedly have cradled their dialogue patterns for scenes. ( Its on Amazon prime really really really go watch it its amazing)

---One of my big references for Lily ( and James for that matter) is Paul Thomas Anderson's Licorice Pizza. I think the love story of the two main characters who are at odds against the world really works and its the typical Jily "one is madly in love with the other and does schemes to win her over while she's sarcastic and wary and grows to love him despite it all." Its also the 70s which helps a lot ( for me). I think also Alana Haim's character is a perfect lily as she's someone who is a bit lost despite having everything going for her on paper. I highly reccomend it if you haven't seen it.

Trailer link here:

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Hi I was thinking what about yan!mafia boss who kidnaps and baby traps(no need for smut scene) reader and how life would be for reader while pregnant

Yandere! Ex-patient! Mafia Boss x AFAB! Nurse!Reader

Hmm baby trapping.

Well I can say for sure y'all like the pregnant fics LMAO

I hope you don't mind me putting more details to yandere! This is like the much more twisted version of a greek myth story, so be warned!

Also, Rowan cameo? (Since Rowan is also a mafia boss)

Yandere! Mafia boss name: Hades

"Sir! Rowan's men are closing in!"

Hades clenched his teeth and looked at his right hand man. He was injured and not able to use his left arm right now.

"Fuck. Do we really need to retreat?" Hades pondered, clutching the empty Thompson in his hands and not minding his broken leg.

"Sir, please, let's just retreat!"

Hades bit his tongue and messed up his hair in frustration before opening up the intercom. "Retreat! Get out of there and retreat!"

It was hard extracting his men from that warehouse lot. But in the end, they were left with only 75% of the number of men that went to this mission, much to Hades' disappointment.

Hades.

He doesn't have a surname, nor a family.

All he has is his mafia and his men.

He remembered when he desperately clawed at the feet of the old mafia boss, asking him to take him in.

He remembers the rigorous training he had to go through in order to be accepted inside their famiglia, and just to be recognized by his boss.

After years of being the underdog, he won a do or die tournament inside the famiglia. And he became the new boss once the old one retired.

As somebody who didn't have anything, he knew how hard it is to have nothing at all. Nothing to eat, nothing to sleep on, nothing to drink.

So he made sure to claw as much as he can to his territory.

He is relentless in his pursuit. With his cold eyes and violent tendencies, it's no wonder his wealth and circle expanded exponentially.

His temper always flare up whenever he saw something he wants.

Envious even.

Filled with envy, he would stop at nothing to get what he wants.

He's temperamental, vicious, cold, and jealous.

He's always jealous. Envious.

He wants everything.

So, when he saw the opportunity to extend his territory once more with the Silas famiglia's territory, he had to.

But it landed him in the hospital.

It was a close fight, but in the end, Rowan won due to an error with Hades' group.

Hades sighed and brushed back his hair to his scalp, not even flinching when the nurse accidentally bumped into his broken leg.

"I-i'm so sorry sir! Forgive me!" The nurse panicked, their breathing fast and short.

Hades frowned, his eyes glowering in anger as he stared daggers at the nurse.

The nurse gulped and ran away, scared for their life.

Hades leaned back to the pristine, luxury hospital bed. The ache in his leg didn't faze him as he looked outside of the window, annoyed at the lost oppurtunity.

For now, he's going to let the Silas' go.

The door opened and in came a new nurse, you.

"Hello sir. I'm your new nurse! My name is y/n." You said, gently holding the clipboard in your hand. Your light blue scrub was clean and spotless.

"Hmph." Hades mused. "Did the crybaby ran to you and tattled on me? Telling i'm a big bad man?" He cooed, like talking to a child.

But rather than getting angry or scared, you only laughed and shook your head.

"You could say that." You told him straightforward, and this amused Hades.

"Well, whatever. Just do your best to take care of me." Hades said before he allowed you to come close to him.

You were an amazing nurse.

Nothing short of caring, you made sure to attend to Hades to the best you can do.

It was like you were a family member, taking care of him with such tenderness that even touched Hades.

Your hands, like the work of an angel, had the touch of a skilled healer and caregiver as you even tended to the most mundane tasks that he could do, like eat.

He didn't mind though. The pretty nurse was taking care of him. Who is he to refuse?

At first, he thought you were only after his money, which understandably made him upset. But you never crossed the line to flirt with him. You acted like an old friend, bantering and joking with him.

He liked this. You were not tense around him. You're not intimidated by the man in front of you, only annoyed whenever he refused to do something you needed him to do.

You both become friends, and Hades always looked forward to your care.

Just pure, adulterated caring hands of a mother-like figure.

Mother, huh?

If you took care of Hades like this, how would you take care of your own children?

He innocently pondered. Imagining you pregnant, he daydreamed of you give birth and having children.

But he flinched, suddenly feeling his body hot.

Seeing you pregnant aroused him.

No, seeing you get pregnant due to him aroused him to no end.

It was just supposed to be an innocent thought. Since he wanted to imagine what would it be like for you to have a family of your own and taking care of them.

But he imagined that the husband is him, the children are his, and you are his wife.

He imagined you moaning under him, clutching his back and screaming his name as he blew his load into you, pumping you full.

He imagined you with a round belly, filled with his baby or two, waddling around his mansion as he took care of your every need.

God.

He licked his teeth, suddenly, suddenly liking the prospect of you with him.

Ever since then, he saw you in a different light.

He had to have you.

Hades moved his leg and smiled.

It doesn't hurt anymore, and he knew it was fully healed.

"Thanks for this, doll." Hades said, his husky deep voice breaking the silence inside the hospital room. His sharp, dark eyes bored into your giddy form that was clapping for him.

"That's great then!" You grinned, looking at the clipboard and nodding. "You're good for discharge then! Can't believe you abused your stay here in the hospital until your broken leg actually healed."

Hades howled in laughter, feeling light.

"Hey, I had to. It's much more peaceful here." He lazily grinned. "And, I had my pretty little doll take care of me. That's two birds in one stone."

You flushed pink and gave a small chuckle.

"Haha. So funny." You rolled your eyes.

"What can I say? I'm a clown." Hades joked "Honk honk." He squeezed his nose, pretending it's the red, squeezy clown nose that clowns have.

"The whole circus, you mean." You teased.

The both of you got quiet once more as you helped his men who just got inside the room to move Hades' things out.

He watched you interact with his men and frowned, jealousy bubbling inside of him. And his eyes narrowed when he saw one brush his hand with yours.

In his eyes, it wasn't an accident, it was a deliberate act of flirting with you.

"Okay, I got to report to your physician first. Be right back!" You said, waving to Hades before jogging out.

"Oi, you."

All of his men stopped, heart rate suddenly picking up as Hades pointed at the man who brushed his hands with yours.

"Yes sir?" The man approached him and Hades immediately grabbed his hand, twisting it.

The man was about to scream in agony but only got to whimper in pain when Hades bore holes in him.

"Those hands you touched? I am the only one who's able to do that." Hades seethed, jealousy and envy bubbling inside of him again, threatening to boil over. "So don't you dare do that again."

He let go of the man as he nodded, scrambling away from him. His other men only bowed and continued to do their work.

They knew not to touch the boss' future wife, as what Hades told them.

But they don't know the scope of 'touch', and it seems that even accidental touches aren't out of the question.

They were glad that their boss found a woman to be his partner, and was happy that the boss seemed like he found something to be happy with.

Especially with how hard his life was before, he needed somebody who will love him unconditionally.

But they forgot that Hades was the epitome of envy and jealousy.

They prayed for your soul. May it be to escape Hades' clutches, or for you to tolerate his behavior and his overly possessive nature.

But, six months later, their hair stood on their ends when they saw you inside the boss' mansion, confined, and kidnapped. You had a defeated look on your face as you glared at their boss, who only smirked.

You were kidnapped by Hades.

six months before the kidnapping

Hades visited you in the hospital, bringing a bouquet of flowers in hand. It was an assortment of different floras, most of them of your favorite flower that you mused to him one day.

He sighed, suddenly feeling nervous. It was the first time he felt like this, but he shook his head and clicked his tongue before walking inside.

His long legs strode towards your floor. The other hospital personnel, who once cowered in fear, looked at him curiously and started to gush amongst themselves.

They knew who he was here for.

And once he got to the 4th floor, he saw you, working on your computer.

"Hey little doll." He drawled out, smirking as you looked up to him.

"Hades! How are you?!" You excitedly jumped up, eyes sparkling. Hades felt warm inside, knowing you were smiling like that because of him.

"Oh, you know. Doing the same. Your care is spectacular. I got healed in such a short time. You're an angel, you know that?" Hades winked and you giggled.

"Oh shut you. What are you here for?" You asked.

You gasped, seeing the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"Grant me the pleasure of being with you, doll?" Hades said, his voice low and quiet, but his resolve was strong.

You grinned and accepted the bouquet, smelling the amazing aroma and smiling.

"Of course!"

At first, dating Hades was fun.

He spoiled you rotten. Giving you jewelry, clothing, food... Anything you looked at, he would buy.

He was a gentleman. A clear and distinct difference from how he's always been.

It was supposed to be a fairytale love story. Well, as much as a fairytale it is being with a mafia boss.

But he was so possessive and overly jealous.

"Why are you looking at him?"

"You don't have male patients, right? No, scratch that. Even women can see how amazing you are."

"Why did he talk to you? Is he asking you out?"

"What did she say? Did she flirt with you?"

"I'll rip their skulls out if you even try to glance their direction."

You groaned, annoyed by his jealousy. You tried to reassure him, that nothing was wrong, that he was the only one for you, but he won't listen.

He was draining to be with. He's always watching other people like a hawk, threatening them if they tried to interact with you, then getting so manipulative with you.

And while you made sweet, sweet love with him one night, with your body filled with his marks and bites, you knew you had to let go of the man.

You can't even work in the hospital right because of his jealousy.

So you have to.

But when you woke up, were kidnapped by him.

"What the fuck?! Hades!" You screamed, looking at the windows. It was grilled. The doors, all unlocked except for the exits.

Nobody was allowed inside the mansion, only you and Hades were residing there.

Hades smirked, looking at you pacing around the mansion. His eyes, dark, obsessed, and possessive, swept your form up and down.

"Doll, you're in the right place." Hades stalked towards you. His long legs, which you once helped heal, was now transporting your twisted boyfriend in front of you. "You think I don't know you want to leave me?"

You seethed, eyes boring betrayal and hatred.

"Why did you kidnap me?"

Hades smirked.

"Like I said, I know you want to leave me. And I can't have that." Hades licked his lips and gently clutched your hips. His thumbs, dangerously close to your core. You shivered, your body responding to his touch. "I did well training your body to like my touch." Hades mused.

You looked away, defiant arousal filling you inside as his hips fit with yours.

You could feel his excitement prodding at your stomach.

"I know you want me, doll." He whispered, leaning down to your ear and licking it. "Doesn't this feel forbidden? If you really hated me, hated my touch, and want to go out, you should have ran away from me. But hey, look at this. You're letting me touch you."

He chuckled darkly as he saw your red face.

"Come on doll." He whispered, kissing your neck. "They said hate sex feels phenomenal. Want to try it?"

Accepting it was the dumbest decision of your life.

He pumped you full, not even bothering to put protection.

And you, swept away by his divine touch, didn't care also.

You only regret this decision once you got pregnant.

Hades gave a triumphant, evil lopsided grin as he called his men to introduce you.

His men's eyes widened in fear at him.

Nobody can even get inside his mansion, let alone his men.

But now, he's openly letting people go inside his mansion. They knew you were inside the mansion, kidnapped. But why is he letting them go inside now?

Hades scoffed and shielded your form from the inquisitive eyes of his men, jealousy filling him.

"Welcome my fiancée, everyone. Treat her well, will you? She's pregnant with my child."

They all froze, before they felt like they were showered with cold ice water.

Baby trapped.

You were baby trapped.

That's why Hades opened the doors to them.

You can't leave no matter what.

And as Hades smirked at your glaring form, they prayed once more.

You're never going out of his clutches.

You were now forever confined in Hades' world.

His Persephone.

[angelicbeaut]

In order to change them, you must change YOU.

(Long post)

I have manifested many people back into my life: SPs , old friends, family member, people I wanted to be friends with but didn’t have the courage to ask to be friends. Literally anyone. But before I could invite them into my life, I had to go within.

When you’re manifesting someone, you must not only drop your old story but theirs as well. This was hard for me to understand at first because I had very strong negative emotions towards some people for what they did, and I chained them to those cinder blocks of mistakes and viewed them in that light forever.

I am one to hold a grudge, and sometimes they do some bs that makes them deserve it! You’re valid!

However, if you want a person back in your life under better circumstance you must remember several important things:

everything happens through you:

I am not blaming you for their behavior but what you must realize is that they have no choice but to continue to be the way that you ultimately view them. If you think your SP doesn’t want you, they will continue to not want you, because you are consumed in that thought and they only reflect you, you are god and they are your creation.

Process how they made you feel:

You’re never just going to let something go, sometimes people will hurt you, but in order to change the story surrounding them and how you view them you must process your feelings towards them. Write it down, talk to a close friend, whatever works for you.

You may come out of this not wanting them in your life and that is perfectly okay, you may decide you no longer want them and you want someone better and that’s okay! Manifest it baby!

Allow them to evolve and/or Allow yourself to have the version of them you want

If you want to access this new and improved version of them you must allow it to come in or it simply will not.

What I like to do is take myself out of the position of being the person who experienced them, and look at the raw emotions of it all, as God. I am not a religious person, however looking back on when I grew up Christian it definitely offered some interesting points that I believe helped in my journey.

If you are god and all your creation is made in your image, take a second to consider it you have ever done anything that may have caused hurt. Have you ever done anything that hurt someone? Have you ever related to feelings of jealousy or got really angry at someone? Most likely. Have you been forgiven and in turn changed to be better? There are many people who may still view you as the villain in their story but you have forgiven yourself and became anew, they could never put that on you now because of who you have evolved to become, right? Well, give this person a chance to evolve. You are the one writing the story, are you going to continue to make them the big bad wolf or are you going to let them be the knight in shining armor.

Now if this is about you not believing you deserve it, you need to start there. Why do you believe you are not worthy of your creation? Why do you believe you cannot have them or that they don’t want to be in your life? It may be that you don’t believe in love, or that you don’t believe you are worthy. Work on self concept and understand that you are everything and therefore everything is yours. From the trees to the moon, you are everything.

You can get a completely different version of them, you can completely revise an argument away, you could literally make them disappear. You can do anything! It’s your world.

Most importantly: LEAVE THE 3D ALONE

Sweetheart, if you are still maintaining the state that they hate you after saying affirmations for a day then immediately trying to text them, STOP. Start within, and the 3D has no choice but to follow. If you want to make up with them, go within, set the scene of making up with them in your head, say your affirmations, or whatever will give you the feeling that you seek. Once you reach that fulfillment within yourself, they have no choice but to reflect. Let them be who you want them to be, stop holding the old story over both of you, release it, and write a new story. Have faith in your story and have faith in you, and you will receive exactly what you want. Don’t worry about time, worry about you, time isn’t god, you are love.

P.S - don’t let anyone tell you that you shouldn’t manifest a better version of your ex or a person. You are god, why would you let anyone tell YOU what to do? Be fr.

Luv, che 🌺