#thought it was a really interesting observation

[sunni-stuff]

Soap’s eyebrows lifted with a curious glint in his eye as he looked from you to Adira, a playful grin edging onto his face. He leaned in, never one to miss a chance at a bit of friendly prodding.

“So… you’re married?” he asked, his tone as light as his smirk.

You laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Haha! No, I’m not.” You gave Adira’s tiny hand a gentle squeeze, glancing down at her with a smile that softened every edge on your face. 

Soap tilted his head, pretending to be shocked. “A bonnie lass like yerself? Unmarried?” he teased, hand on his chest as though it were a crime.

“Guess I’m a rare breed,” you replied with a grin, chuckling as you shifted Adira’s hand in yours.

Soap’s face lit up at your response, as if he’d just been given the most interesting bit of news he’d heard all week. He shot Ghost a quick look, but Ghost was still watching Adira, his gaze softened with something unreadable.

Meanwhile, Gaz wasn't fascinated by Soap's ability to make anyone at ease, the man was a cassanova. Roach watched Adira with curiosity, as though piecing together a puzzle he hadn’t realized existed until now. Price stood off to the side, arms crossed, silently observing the whole scene.

“If you aren’t married, how’d you get this little one?” Soap pushed, grinning as he wiggled a playful finger in Adira’s direction.

Adira’s gaze snapped up from Ghost to the man with the funny hair, her little brow furrowing as she studied Soap with a mix of curiosity and caution. She leaned into your leg, clearly wary, but her attention stayed on the finger waving in front of her.

You chuckled, brushing a hand over Adira’s head to reassure her. “Long story,” you replied, smiling. “Let’s just say she was an unexpected blessing.”

Soap laughed softly, glancing at Ghost with a gleam in his eye. “Ah, aye, life’s full of surprises, eh?” 

Ghost, who had been studying Adira in silence, clenched his jaw, shifting uncomfortably as Soap’s words hit a little too close to home.

“I used to be really wild back in the day,” you admitted with a sheepish grin, a hint of nostalgia coloring your tone as you thought back to those not-so-distant years.

Soap wasn’t quite done yet, though. “Does the father know?” he threw a quick glance at Ghost, who had just risen from his crouched position. A new tension ran through Ghost’s frame, his stance rigid, as if the question had struck something he’d rather not confront.

You hesitated, a shadow crossing your expression before you shook your head. “No, he doesn’t… He, uh, probably has no idea.”

Ghost’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering from you to Adira, who was absorbed in her drink, unaware of the intensity surrounding her. His shoulders stiffened, and for a split second, he looked as though he wanted to speak—but whatever words he had caught in his throat, locked behind his silence.

"I see, well. I'm sorry if I took up your time, ma’am, you've been a nice chat," Soap said, his voice softening with a touch of politeness, his grin still present but more reserved now.

You nodded, giving Adira’s hand a gentle tug as you continued on your way, the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound accompanying your steps. The blue sky stretched above, peaceful, serene. As you walked, Adira turned her head, glancing back at Ghost one final time. She refused to let go of her cup, her small fingers gripping it tightly, but she lifted her other hand in a small, hesitant wave. "Bye-bye," she whispered, her voice soft but sweet.

Ghost’s gaze lingered, but he didn’t move. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of things churning behind those eyes. 

Price let out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms and facing Ghost. “So... what’s the plan?” he asked, his tone both blunt and expectant, clearly waiting for some kind of direction. The rest of the team stood in silence, watching the exchange unfold.

Ghost didn’t answer immediately. His gaze remained on you and Adira, watching you both disappear further down the street, the distance growing with each step. The soft crunch of snow under your boots was the only sound in the quiet winter air. He didn’t even notice Price's voice until the man spoke again, closer now, with a slight edge to his tone.

"Ghost, talk to me. What’s the plan here?”

Finally, Ghost shifted, his shoulders tense, his jaw clenched as he turned to face Price. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something caught between anger, confusion, and a deep, gnawing regret.

"I don't know," he muttered, the words barely escaping his lips. "I wasn't expecting this. Hell, I didn't even know she existed." His voice was low, strained, but there was a quiet honesty to it, as if he was trying to process something that didn’t make sense.

Soap stepped closer, his expression serious for once. "What now, Ghost? We can help. But you need to tell us what's going on."

Ghost finally looked away, his attention drawn to the ground, his fingers twitching like he was trying to find something to hold onto. "I don't even know where to start," he admitted. "All I know is... I saw her. And it hit me like a fucking truck."

Roach, always one to stay in the background, spoke up. “Maybe it’s time to talk to her, yeah? Figure out where to go from here?”

Price’s eyes narrowed, his stern gaze shifting to Ghost, assessing him. “And what exactly do you want from us? You’re in this, whether you like it or not.”

Ghost let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know,” he repeated, voice hoarse. “But I can’t just let her slip away.”

A silence stretched between them, heavy and thick, as the weight of the situation settled in. Then, slowly, Ghost nodded. “I’ll figure it out. Just… not now. Not here.” His eyes flicked toward the street where you had disappeared, and something in his gaze softened, just for a moment, before the mask fell back into place.

Price gave a single nod. "Alright. But we stick together on this. You’re not doing it alone, Ghost."

The team stood together for a moment longer, the wind howling through the alley, before they slowly began to move, their steps trailing off into the winter evening. The silence that hung between them was thick with uncertainty. No one knew what came next, but they knew one thing for sure: whatever happened, they were in this together.

A month passed, the team giving Ghost the space he needed to process the whirlwind that had hit him. They all knew this was something he had to handle on his own terms, but that didn't mean the questions didn't linger. What did it mean for the future? What did he want? The answers were still unclear, even to Ghost himself.

But Soap, ever the persistent one, wasn’t content to let things sit in limbo. He knew Ghost, knew how his mind worked, and that sometimes the best way to breakthrough was to take small steps. And if that meant subtly nudging you into the picture, then so be it. He’d always been good at this—at slipping in the background, making things happen without anyone noticing.

So, Soap started to "accidentally" run nto you. At the park, when you were out with Adira, he'd make sure to be in the same place at the same time, offering a casual greeting. It always started simple, harmless, with a nod or a small comment about the weather. Then, of course, there was that coffee shop where you'd gone to get hot chocolate for Adira.

The first time he "bumped" into you there, it was nothing more than a quick exchange. A question about the drink, a comment on the cold weather, just the usual small talk. But Johnny's natural charm and ease made you relax, and made the conversation flow without much effort. Over time, those small moments grew. You'd smile when you'd see him, and he'd greet you with the same friendly energy, always leaving you feeling at ease. No pressure, just casual.

And slowly, ever so slowly, Johnny began to warm you up to the idea of him. It wasn't much at first—a smile here, a shared laugh there—but he knew what he was doing. He wasn't pushing, just letting the connection build at its own pace. The more you saw him, the more comfortable you felt. The more you talked, the more you found yourself enjoying the interactions, even if they were brief.

One evening, Johnny sat beside you on the park bench, casually leaning back as Adira bounced around in the snow, her laughter filling the crisp air. The sound was contagious, and for a moment, you let yourself relax, watching her with a soft smile.

"So, me and a couple friends are meeting up at Leslie's this weekend," Johnny said, his tone light but with a hint of something more. "Would you be interested?"

You snorted, expecting the usual joke or teasing, but when you glanced over at him, his expression was far more serious than you anticipated. For a moment, you considered dismissing it. After all, Leslie's? A pub? That was a far cry from the cozy routine you’d built for yourself with Adira. 

“Seriously?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think I fit the scene."

Johnny shrugged nonchalantly, the corner of his mouth lifting in that playful grin of his. “Please. It'll just be like old times.”

Your mind immediately wandered, trying to understand what he meant by that. What was it about old times that Johnny thought might appeal to you? You didn’t exactly have a wild past to cling to. Sure, you’d had your moments, but those felt long behind you now. 

Still, something about the invitation lingered. A night out... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. You hadn’t done anything for you in a while. And maybe, just maybe, it would be nice to let someone else take care of the night for once. No worrying about Adira, no responsibilities for a few hours. Just some fun, whatever that meant now.

You hesitated, looking down at Adira as she made another snow angel, oblivious to the conversation happening nearby. She’d be fine, right? And you could leave if things felt uncomfortable. 

“Alright,” you finally said, meeting Johnny’s gaze with a reluctant but genuine smile. "I'll join you. But only if it’s not as crazy as you’re making it sound." 

Johnny’s grin widened, and you could tell he was already mentally planning the evening, no doubt with some plan to ease you in without overwhelming you. He stood up, dusting off the snow on his pants as he glanced back at you.

“Deal. I’ll make sure it’s a night to remember.”

You just hoped he wasn’t overselling it.

The weekend seemed to arrive so fast, and here you were, standing outside your apartment, nervously adjusting your blue blouse and jeans. It wasn’t exactly the type of outfit you thought would fit a night out, but it was the best you could do. Most of your wardrobe these days consisted of comfortable clothes, ones that could be easily changed or wiped clean in case Adira had another of her toddler mishaps. Sexy or flirty clothes were a distant memory, tucked away in a drawer somewhere, gathering dust.

Adira stood in the doorway, clutching her little stuffed bear to her chest, eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears. The sight hit you harder than you expected. You knelt down in front of her, your heart sinking at the sight of her teary eyes. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, I promise,” you said, your voice gentle but firm, reaching out to her with a reassuring smile.

Adira sniffled, her tiny hand coming up to rub her eyes, but she didn’t break her stare. You held out your pinky, the gesture as familiar as breathing. Slowly, she reached out, her small finger wrapping around yours with the same trust she always had. The connection was brief, but it felt like a promise, one that you hoped would calm her.

"I won't be out long," you said softly to the friend you’d left with her. "And you, be good for Auntie too." The last part was directed at Adira, though the words felt bittersweet on your tongue.

Adira nodded, but her face still held that sadness, that uncertainty of what the night would bring without you. 

Standing up, you ruffled her hair and offered a small, hopeful smile. “I’ll be back before you know it. Just a little fun for Mama, okay?”

Her small nod didn’t do much to ease the tightness in your chest, but you turned and gave her one last look before stepping outside. The cool evening air wrapped around you, a contrast to the warmth of the apartment behind you, but you pushed the feeling away. Tonight was for you, however strange that sounded. 

As you locked the door behind you, you felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach. This wasn’t just any night out. It was a night with Johnny, with his friends, with the possibility of reconnecting to parts of yourself you’d set aside for so long.

As you arrived outside the establishment, the familiar hum of chatter and music filled the night air, but what caught your attention first was Johnny standing outside, leaning against the brick wall, checking his watch. The moment his eyes met yours, they lit up, his expression shifting from casual to something almost... eager. 

“Well, well, look at you,” he said with that trademark wink of his, his gaze raking over you with a genuine appreciation that made you feel suddenly self-conscious. “You clean up well.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. It was hard to resist the easy charm of Johnny.

“Let’s just hope I survive this night,” you muttered, though the words were more for yourself than him. You weren’t sure what to expect tonight, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that things might not go as smoothly as Johnny seemed to think.

Johnny chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “I’m sure you will. Now, let’s get going before I change my mind.”

With that, you fell into step beside him, the weight of your hand at your side suddenly feeling strange in the cool night air. He led you toward the door, and as you entered the dimly lit space of the bar, your eyes scanned the room. 

It was bustling, a mix of regulars and newcomers, all seeking solace or company for the night. It smelled of beer, whiskey, and the faintest hint of fried food, a familiar and welcoming kind of atmosphere. But as soon as you stepped inside, your nerves shot back up again. You tried not to let the nerves show, but they were there, itching under your skin.

What you didn’t notice, as you made your way to the bar, was the group inside. Ghost, Price, Gaz, Roach—quietly observing, waiting for their chance to either speak to you or simply let you slip through their fingers once more. Ghost’s eyes tracked you the moment you stepped inside, and there was a hesitation in his gaze, something raw and almost pained that flickered in and out. 

For a moment, Ghost didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply watched you, aware that the moment he’d been dreading—he had finally stumbled into. Your gaze met his across the room, the flicker of recognition passing between you both. But that was it. You didn’t remember. You didn’t know him. You didn’t know what he was to you.

Approaching the bar, you saw that Johnny was already leaning in, chatting with the bartender, exchanging friendly banter. You barely heard the words, only caught up in the feeling that something was different. Something you couldn’t quite place. You glanced back at the table where those men sat. They weren’t talking, but their eyes were all trained on you, as if waiting for something to happen.

Your heart raced without explanation. Ghost’s eyes—those eyes—stayed locked on you. He didn’t know how to approach, how to change what had already seemingly been set in stone. What was he supposed to say? What was the plan now that you were here, so close? God, why the fuck did johnny do this.

Johnny leaned toward you again, a soft smile curling his lips. “You good, love?” he asked, his voice pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. You forced a smile, trying to ignore the uneasy tension brewing in your chest. “Just... getting used to being out.”

Johnny winked again, oblivious to the chaos of emotions swirling within you. “It’s all good. Let’s have some fun tonight, yeah?”

Ghost’s fist clenched involuntarily under the table. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this distance, this silent acknowledgment of his role, or how long he could ignore what it meant to see you here now. 

“You’ll fit right in,” Johnny said, though there was a hint of something deeper behind his words. “Just a bunch of mates enjoying a drink, nothing crazy.” Johnny leads you over to the table, you expected to be met with… well you didn't quite know what.  

Price leaned back in his seat, cigar in hand, a soft smile on his weathered face as he regarded you with a raised brow. “Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

"Neither did I," you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile and doing your best to ignore the gnawing feeling that lingered when you looked at him. You hadn’t quite expected this part of the evening.

“I’m just here for a drink, nothing more,” you said, looking over at Johnny was getting comfortable in his chair.

“Well, pull up a seat, love,” Price said, motioning to the empty spot next to him. “We’re all friends here.”

You hesitated but made your way over, perching yourself on the seat next to him. The sound of the glass being slid toward you, the clink of ice against glass, broke through the chatter around you. Your nerves buzzed as you focused on the drink in front of you, trying to ignore the sudden realization of just how different this was from the quiet, routine life you had at home with Adira.

“Enjoy yourself,” Price said with an air of casual amusement, leaning back in his chair. “This is all new for you, isn’t it?”

You raised an eyebrow, not wanting to admit just how out of place you felt in the moment. Instead, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of whiskey warming you from the inside out.

You laugh lightly, a bit awkwardly, trying to shake off the nerves that gnawed at you. "Yeah, this all a bit... newish. I haven't been out like this in years honestly," you admit, taking a deep breath and glancing around the bar. The warmth of the space was a welcome contrast to the chill outside, but the sight of the men made you feel more like a fish out of water than ever.

Johnny claps you on the back with an easy grin, clearly trying to make you feel more comfortable. “These are my mates. Price, Kyle, Gary, and Simon," he introduces with a flourish, motioning to each man in turn. 

You give them all a polite smile, not quite sure what to make of them just yet. There was something about the way they carried themselves, all standing a little apart from the crowd, that made it clear they were more than just regulars at the pub. But you didn’t have time to focus too much on that right now. You were trying to just survive the night.

Price, who looked a bit older than the rest, nods at you, his gaze thoughtful, almost cautious. “Nice to meet you,” he says in a tone that is polite but distant, as though he’s waiting for something, some sign.

Kyle, as Johnny had called him—gives you a friendly nod, a playful glint in his eyes, but there's a strange sharpness to his look that you can’t quite place. “Pleasure," he says, offering you a tight smile.

Gary simply gives you a quick but sincere nod. His eyes linger on you just long enough for you to catch a flicker of interest before he looks away.

And then there’s Simon. His presence, as always, is quieter, more intense. He’s sitting in the middle, arms crossed, his gaze fixed directly on you. You can feel the weight of it, though. It’s impossible not to. There was something you couldn't place with him though you couldn’t see too well under the dim light.

You try to shake off the unease creeping up your spine. “Nice to meet you all," you reply, your voice warmer than you feel. 

Johnny, oblivious to the awkwardness in the air, slaps the bar and gives a nod. “Alright, drinks all around, yeah? Let’s get this party started!” he declares, pulling the group into the rhythm of the night.

As the revelry began your stomach churns slightly, a sense of unease still lingering despite the distraction. You knew something was off, something you couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t just the men—it was the way Simon’s gaze lingered on you, the way he looked at you as if he were waiting for something. It unsettled you, but you couldn’t figure out why.

Johnny, seemingly oblivious to your tension, slides a drink toward you. “First round’s on me," he grins, the clink of glass against the table snapping you back to the present. "Here’s to a good night.”.

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the nerves that still clung to you. This was supposed to be a night out, after all. A chance to shake off the past, to let loose just a little. You couldn’t let the weight of everything pull you under before you even tried. What would be the point if you didn’t at least try and enjoy yourself?

Shaking the tension from your shoulders, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of alcohol easing the knot in your stomach just slightly. The guys were chatting among themselves, Johnny’s laughter cutting through the low hum of the bar as he joked with Kyle. Price was listening intently, nodding along while Gary seemed content to let the others talk, his eyes occasionally flicking to you, though his gaze didn’t linger long.

And then there was Simon.

His presence loomed even when he wasn’t speaking, his broad frame leaning against the bar just slightly, face half hidden by the shadows. You caught his eyes for a split second, the intensity of his stare making your pulse hitch. You quickly looked away, focusing on your drink, your nerves creeping back up despite the effort to push them aside.

You could feel his gaze on you, though, like a weight pressing against your back. You tried not to let it show, tried not to acknowledge how his proximity seemed to pull at something inside you, but it was impossible to ignore. There was a pull, something in the air, but you couldn’t quite grasp it.

Sighing inwardly, you turned your attention back to the others. Just enjoy yourself, you remind yourself again. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of it.

Johnny clinked his glass against yours, a grin on his face. “Here’s to not letting the night pass us by,” he said with a wink, and you couldn’t help but smile back, lifting your glass.

“Cheers,” you said, the warmth of the alcohol giving you just the nudge you needed to ease into the evening. For now, you’d ignore the tight feeling in your chest. You’d enjoy yourself. 

But the eyes that lingered on you would remain, whether you were ready for them or not.

You pushed your chair back with more force than necessary, the scrape of it against the floor loud in the otherwise quiet bar. The conversation still echoed in your ears, but your focus had been on the man, Simon, for the past half hour. His silence had become suffocating, every glance he cast in your direction feeling like it held some hidden meaning. You couldn't quite place it, but something was off about him. His eyes, cold and intense, had followed you too much, made you second guess every word you’d said.

"Im... gonna go powder my nose," you muttered, more to fill the silence than anything else. You didn’t wait for a response, the words barely out of your mouth before you were already making your way across the room, past the low hum of idle chatter and the clink of glasses.

While you were in the bathroom, the entire team turned their attention towards Ghost, each of them sizing him up, starting with Soap.

"What is wrong with you?" Soap asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.

"What?" Simon blinked, genuinely confused.

"Mate, you've been gawking at her all night," Gaz added, raising an eyebrow, his voice teasing but laced with concern.

"Shit. Are you serious?" Simon muttered, running a hand through his hair, but his gaze didn't stray far from where you had just disappeared.

Roach, leaning back casually with his drink in hand, nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, it's like you’ve been stuck in a staring contest with her since she walked in."

Price, who had been watching quietly, shook his head with a resigned sigh. He snuffed out his cigar in the nearby ashtray, eyes narrowing as he met Simon's gaze. "If you scared her off, I doubt you’ll get another chance, lad."

Simon’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t realized how obvious it had been, but now that the team was calling him out on it, he felt the heat rise in his chest. He hadn’t meant to make you uncomfortable, but the pull to look at you, to remember what had sparked your connection all those years ago had been almost magnetic.

“Alright, alright,” Soap teased, leaning in, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just don't burn a hole in her head.”

“Shut up,” Simon muttered, his mind racing, trying to figure out how to fix this without making things worse.

Price shared a look with the rest of the team, a silent understanding passing between them. While Soap might have been the one to set this whole thing in motion, it didn't mean the others didn't have contingencies in place. 

Soap got up first, stretching a bit. “Gonna make sure no one's tried to get in my car,” he said with a casual tone.

“I’ll come with you,” Gaz chimed in, already pushing himself up from his seat and following Soap toward the door.

A minute later, Roach also stood, excusing himself without a word, and then Price followed suit, his movements deliberate. “I’m gonna make sure they’re not up to anything,” he said with a knowing glance.

With everyone out of the immediate area, the bar suddenly felt quieter, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken. It took Ghost only a second for it all to click—he had been set up. Without thinking, he bolted from his seat, rushing outside just in time to catch the taillights of Soap's car disappearing down the street.

He cursed under his breath, but before he could make another move, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen. There, in simple words from Price: 

“Good luck.”

Ghost stood still for a moment, phone in hand, as the weight of the situation hit him. His heart thudded in his chest. This was it. There was no turning back now.

By the time you returned to the table, you felt a bit more at ease. The night out wasn’t all that bad… it was just that Johnny had some weird taste in friends. Well, mostly the tall one. You couldn’t help but notice how everyone seemed to have left, a pit forming in your stomach at the thought of being ditched.

You let out a quiet sigh, about to gather your things and head out when your phone lit up in your purse. Pulling it out, you saw a text from Johnny. 

"Emergency, looks like one of the beers wasn't that good, poor Kyle threw up."

You paused, reading the message again, a small smile tugging at your lips. Aww… nevermind. At least they hadn’t forgotten about you after all. 

"Hope he's okay." You replied quickly, grabbing the straps of your bag when suddenly a hand landed on top of yours.

You looked up, meeting the intense gaze of Simon. Seriously? You couldn’t help but think. They took everyone but this guy?

You forced a smile, trying to pull your hand away, but Simon’s grip was firm, not unkind. “Look, I had a decent time, but I have to go—”

“Just a minute,” he interrupted, his voice low, steady, almost pleading. There was something about the way he said it that made you pause, something different than the usual small talk.

"Fine." The word slipped out before you could process it, and you cursed yourself inwardly. Really? You just agreed to stay with the guy who hadn’t stopped staring since you met him. You sat back down, and he mirrored you, settling across the table. 

Silence stretched between you, his intense gaze unwavering. He didn’t so much as blink, and you couldn’t help but feel more unsettled by the second.

What the hell is his deal?

“Look, if you're just going to be a creep, I don't think I want to mee—"

“Do you remember Armed Forces Day?” His voice cut through your words, quiet but resolute.

Okay, this took all day, I wanted to give you all something long to read incase I disappear for finals (which I might)

Reblogs appreciated!!!

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[helslastangel]

Mini Observations #5

based on my synastry with a friend/unrequited love interest

Sun Sextile Pluto

Powerful chemistry. Both parties are left changed by the connection. Can become completely obsessed with each other if not controlled. Both Sun and Pluto feel a bit lost or displaced without each other from the first time they meet. Especially Sun, as Pluto is less averse to isolation. This is generally positive bit can take a very dark turn if Pluto has bad intentions. The Sun person loves the Pluto person "first" if you will, or at least expresses it faster and more confidently than Pluto, who will either lower their inhibitions and reciprocate the sentiment or give and withdraw their attention at will to break the Sun person's confidence and keep them under control. This is one of those aspects where when it's good, it's truly amazing, but when it's bad, it's downright horrible for both parties.

Sun Sextile Venus

A soft, supportive aspect. Love at first sight vibes, even if not acted on. Not the strongest connection indicator out there but the emotional connection is real between them. The Sun person feels happier and more radiant when around the Venus person. Very much "life is worth living when you're here with me" vibes. Venus thrives on the Sun's energy and is attracted to their charm. Venus feels the urge to do anything to make Sun happy ("Oh hey, I notice you really like x, so I got 3 of them for you"). Sun adores Venus and will protect them at all costs ("They said WHAT to you at work? Oh no they don't! Drop the name and address, who do I need to beat up?").

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Pluto Conjunct Venus

Strong sexual attraction. Moderate emotional attraction. Can be one-sided or more commonly lop-sided in terms of willingness to emotionally invest. Karmic. Love-hate dynamic possible. Pluto person can easily read the Venus person. Pluto person can become extremely attached to the Venus person, who is aware of this but may or may not be able to reciprocate.

☆●☆○☆●☆

Mars Trine Venus

Again, mutual sexual attraction. The Venus person admires the Mars person's physique, energy and confidence in themselves and their appearance. The Mars person admires the Venus person's spirit, aura, general behavior and way of being. This is a comfortable connection. Warm. Both romantic and lustful. Likely to keep the "spark" alive for s long time.

Mars Trine Pluto

Possessive. Intense. Soul ties are very strong here. Can be explosive or have many power struggles if not careful. Mars person is the muscle, Pluto person is the mind of the relationship. Mars person gets things going after Pluto person has given it thought and come to a conclusion. Can have an on-and-off friendship or relationship. Or tend to drift apart and back again regularly, even if in very small ways.

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Venus Square Saturn

Could go either way. Other aspects and placements can heavily influence this one. Venus views Saturn as wise and an authority figure in a sense, but Venus might feel restricted from expressing themselves freely and creatively. May feel a sense of always being in trouble, annoying or disappointing the Saturn person in some way. Saturn views Venus as a ray of sunshine-that never sets. They enjoy the exuberance and freespirited nature of the Venus person whether they admit it or not, but feel irritated by it at the same time. Saturn may be overcritical of the Venus person, leading the Venus person to leave in frustration or stay but become depressed, if other placements do not balance this out. This aspect can also indicate 'right person, wrong time' relationships, or one-sided, unrequited love between friends. Delays of one kind ot another are common with this aspect.

☆●☆○☆●☆

Mars Opposite Neptune

Difficult aspect to balance. Mars wants to do everything now. If it's an argument, they want to finish it then and there. If it's a task, they want to get it out of the way. If it's a fun activity, they want to jump in and immerse themselves in it. Neptune is easily fatigued, easily overwhelmed and finds it difficult to keep up with Mars-and probably does not even want to. Mars is also blunt which Neptune can only handle in tiny doses, if at all, leading them to need space often, which hurts Mars' ego and leads them to push even harder, which in turn leads Neptune to resort to white lies to get the recovery time they need to remain in the connection. This is a difficult aspect that is only sustainable if Mars learns to be quiet and slow down and Neptune learns to speak up and pick up the pace. They can meet in the middle, but both have to be willing.

↤ go back to the masterlist

[dipperscavern]

about to go to bed, but this post got me thinking… cregan x reader w strange interests.,… walk with me here

people have always been a bit… unaccepting, when it comes to you and the things you like. they’ll enjoy your personality well enough, laugh with you at feasts, treat you courteously at gatherings, but decide they don’t enjoy your company the moment you show a different part of yourself.

one that takes a special interest in poisonous plants, knows how to prepare a body after death, collects bones and feathers, charts astrology… and your pets are usually quite successful in labeling you as completely mad.

you understand to some extent. different is strange, and people reject the things they don’t understand. such is the games of highborns (a rather cruel dance, really.) but you found you couldn’t find it within yourself to try and change. after all, comparison is the thief of joy, as your beloved old maester would say.

you were alright with solidarity, if being alone meant being yourself — but the old gods have always been said to have a sense of humor.

it seems cregan stark is not so off put by such oddities. quite the opposite, in fact.

your pet spider doesn’t repulse him, like it does the others. while he would’ve been most content to allow you the sole responsibility of spider-handling, it didn’t take much convincing on your part. only a simple statement of reassurance, a small smile, a warmth of your cheeks at his interest, and cregan finds himself sat on the bed as you retrieve your eight-legged friend.

whatever doubts he harbors instantly vanish as you sit across from him, un-cupping your hands to reveal a much bigger spider than he previously thought. tarantula, he’s heard the maesters say (with horror.)

while one holds the maesters’ worst nightmare, your other hand reaches for his. he takes note of your warmth, the softness of your hands in comparison to his own. people usually don’t touch him without permission, and, perhaps strangely, he wishes you to never hesitate when doing so.

he uncurls his palm for you, and before you transfer the creature, you softly ask for him to “please don’t scare him.” — and cregan’s heart skips a beat, because he knows at that very moment, he would heed your every request. anything you ask of him, it is yours.

perhaps this revelation would produce a greater affect on lord stark if he wasn’t so encapsulated with staying still while your creature begins to crawl from your palm to his own.

its great work to not tense himself or pull away when it happens, but you watch him so intensely, waiting to pull your creature to safety at any indicator. so he stills. you ground him, even if unaware.

once your creature is fully in his palm, it seems comfortable. sitting itself, abdomen flush to cregan’s palm to encompass the warmth he offers. you sit like that in silence for a moment, cregan observing it’s markings, and you waiting for the warden of the north’s assessment of you and your creature.

after some time, cregan speaks, tone different from the usual one of lord stark.

“Does he have a name?”

you can’t help but smile at his words, and he can’t help the way your expression makes one of his own tug at his lips. “Bones.”

“Bones?” he repeats, face relaxing in his surprise. his words don’t contain any malice, only a question in its tone.

you nod tentatively, as if awaiting judgement. “When found in the kitchens, a cook tried killing him with a chicken bone.”

his gaze momentarily flickers to the spider as he nods his head, a sort of understanding passing between the wolf and the arachnid. something else is there, too. a fondness for you unfurling in his chest — how you can find beauty in such things; things deemed unwanted by most people.

cregan’s gaze finds you again, and you look at the spider in his hands with such reverence it makes his lips part in silent adoration.

you’ve captured him, he thinks. he’s damned.

[thehigherseekerastro]

Random Astrology Observations (Alternative Meanings Love Edition) 2 🤨❤️🤔

DISCLAIMER: I am in no way, shape or form a professional astrologer, modern or traditional.

I HAVE been studying astrology for a while now, and analysing charts available to me, as well as my own, and noticed a lot of the info you find online doesn't make sense in real life, because it is too reductive, stereotypical or lacks broader context. So I thought I'd share some of my personal observations to see if it resonates with anyone.

This is NOT the end all, be all. Apply it as it makes sense to you.

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The 1st House 🙋‍♂️

The 1H in synastry is a tricky one, because the first house itself is related to our individual identity. It is the house of self. So, when it comes to having a love planet here, things can get really murky. You'll often hear that it indicates instant attraction, but also only surface-level. While that is not entirely wrong, it would be a disservice to reduce it to just that. Yes, first house ties back to your physical appearance and external impact. But what does that mean for someone else being impacted and impacting that? Does it even apply in synastry? The answer is: YES. And it goes much deeper than you'd think. It will talk about an immediate recognition. It talks of being mesmerized by someone's look and demeanor, but that comes accompanied with an obsessive need to know more about you, to be around you, to soak up as much of you as possible, as if to aggressively learn you. And that's because you will tickle all the boxes the person had been holding inside (and vice-versa).

(e.g.: having someone's planet(s) fall into your 1st house doesn't just mean they will be attracted to you, if it's romantic. It also means the person feels like you two share a vibe, share interests, ideas. It means they feel like you move according to their speed, and therefore, that could lead to a lot of trust and comfort on their part, because you feel like a safe place. Not in the same sense as the 4H, but in a more "this person will have my back, cause we're the same!" kind of way. It makes the person feel like you are enough, because you fit them. So even if everyone else disagrees with them or doesn't understand them, they'll sort of look over at you, and if you validate them, that will be enough for them. They'd rather have your approval – since you are someone who gets them – than to have the approval of a bunch of people who don't understand where they are coming from.)

It truly is a beautiful thing, but even positive planets with positive aspects can lead to unwanted side-effects. The house person could come to resent the planet person because of how much they like them. Depending on who the house person is – if they have a dominant or prideful personality, for example – they may come to resent and even become angry with the planet person at times, because they'll feel so strongly for the planet person that they could start acting out of character for them, and that can make them feel like they're losing control of themselves. And as human beings, what do we do when we feel out of control? Shift blame and start looking for culprits. This DOES tend to wear off, though, exactly because of how intensely the house person feels for the planet person, but it can burn hot for a minute or two, specially if they end up getting into an ugly fight and the 1H person tries to forget the planet person, but they can't bring themselves to hate them. They'll get angry at the fact that no matter how hard they try to hate the person, they still feel enchanted by them.

(this could also create an unwanted feeling of "nobody else is like them", so the 1H could panic a bit at the thought of losing the planet person because 1H synastry creates the immediate feeling of the "perfect person for me", so imagine thinking you found the perfect person for you... it can make you feel like if you lose them you'll never recover, because no one else will be like them or able to replace them as perfectly)

All in all, though, first house Synastry tends to usually show up good results, depending on the planets and aspects involved. Another aspect of this synastry that doesn't get talked about for some reason is the fact that they tend to obsess over and notice the tiny details in each other. So it creates this effect of falling for them over and over and over again, cause they'll keep finding little things about the other person that they find enchanting, and THAT'S what creates the physical attraction. It's not that the planet or house person are conventionally attractive to everyone – they might not even fit the beauty standards –, but to the house person, those little details will sort of build up the planet person's beauty step by step, and by the time they catch on, they'll be enamored with every part of them, so, to the house person, the planet person truly is the most beautiful thing ever.

(1H house synastry also brings a 1st house energy to the attraction. NO - NOT ARIES. First house. But it will sound like arian qualities because Aries does rule the first house, after all. What this means is that a big part of the attraction for the 1H person is feeling like the planet person is independent, self-sufficient, confident, self-assured and capable. Because it's taping into their 1st house of self, the house person can sort of see the best of themselves reflected on the planet person, which means they feel like all the things they are insecure to show the world, the planet person has and is not afraid to show them. So they feel like planet person not only embodies their attraction ideal, but also the ideal personality they wish they had themselves. Which they do, but they don't realize it until planet person comes along and brings it out of them.)

First house Synastry is a complex kind of Synastry that is much more psychological than it's given credit for. People often focus on superficial physical attraction and gloss over the fact that it's like somebody is literally stepping into your mind and making your inner fantasies come out. It can feel very vulnerable and intense.

The 7th House 💍

Oh, isn't this one a gem?! Perhaps one of the most sought after in synastry. But the idea here is to provide an alternative perspective, so here goes: if it's badly aspected, or there's other challenging factors involved (the person falling into your 7H is problematic themselves), you're gonna run into the issues people often attribute to 1st house synastry, such as superficiality and a "false love" because 7H Synastry, regardless if it's good or bad, creates somebody who's "perfect on paper". They say the right things, they do the right things, they seem to fit into your whole ideals. But that does not guarantee that that's who they truly are. That's just who you think they are. Remember – the 7H is the house of "other". So it's not about you. It's about the other. But it's rather how you act around said other, and also how you perceive them.

(It's tough to say this, but you gotta be real to help some people out there who might have had 7H Synastry and didn't understand why the relationship failed, since everyone online claims it's a guaranteed soulmate. It's because Synastry goes both ways. And all houses have good and bad. There is no such thing as the perfect Synastry. But in the case of the 7H, I'd say it's the real life case of "if it's good, then it will be amazing. Truly a soulmate. But if it's bad... it will be awful. Just not immediately.)

Going off of the previous comment, another grim way this Synastry can turn out is in its binding effect. And I don't mean anything spiritual or abstract here. I mean literally binding. Imagine a relationship going sideways like that AND you are also now married or share a business together. MESS! This is the house of contracts and long-term. Remember Saturn exalts in Libra, because Libra likes things that last, and Saturn is the planet of long-term, so the house of Libra will sprinkle that lasting effect over whatever it touches. And if you're in a 7H relationship, that relationship will last with you, whether good or bad. It will take A WHILE to break off from it, either mentally, emotionally, psychologically, legally or financially.

(e.g. somebody has their moon in your 7H, but it's a moon at fall, in Scorpio, and it's afflicted in their natal chart. Now, at the beginning they will seem like a gift from God directly to you, so much so that you decide to make it official... And then, one or two years in, living together, each day it gets more toxic and draining and the dark sides just oozes out of your relationship. But now you are legally married, and divorcing will take time, bureaucracy, money and emotional energy, not to mention you'll have to uproot your entire life, explain it to your social circles and families... And what seemed like your dream come true was in fact a bitter lesson to learn).

To veer away from the dark twists of the last ones, let's dissect the correlations people make with the 7th house, like "oh, your spouse will be interested in art, and beauty, and music, and sophisticated things!" Why? Are you marrying a Libra? A Libra rising? Somebody with a Libra Venus? No? Then that has nothing to do with 7H Synastry. Houses are not signs, signs are not houses. Libra is one thing, the 7H is another. Venus rules Libra, which resides in the 7H, but Venus doesn't rule the 7H. It merely influences the 7H. It would be a better guess to say you might have met your person while they (or you) were already in a relationship than it is to say you met because of beauty-related things, or art, or music, since the 7H doesn't talk of any of those things, but it DOES talk of committed relationships.

(e.g. you might have met the person right after they (or you) got divorced. They might be connected to an ex of yours. Or another possibility that isn't talked about is how the person you eventually end up with is someone you have liked for a long time, but never got the chance to be with until now. Since this is the house of long-term relationships, having placements here could indicate that the person you ultimately stay with long-term is someone you already knew prior to getting together, but you needed to experience other relationships before you united with them.)

Another final aspect of placements in this house is the fact that it doesn't just deal with your love relationships, but also the way you consciously present yourself with others. How you behave socially. But also the mirror effect of this house, speaking directly about love. This is, after all, the house directly opposing the 1st house of self. In that regard, this is similar to 1H synastry, with the exception that in this one, instead of you coming out of your shell subconsciously, you make a conscious effort to become your best for your person here. You want to live up to all of your potential.

The 2nd House 💆‍♂️

This one is a bit tricky for me, because I'm not materialistic AT ALL. I have a Taurus Lilith in the 2nd house, so, I express it on the other end of the spectrum. When you have that placement, you either put too much value on money and material things, or you are completely unattached from it, and that's me. So the whole "money this, money that!" vibe is not my scene. I don't see a price in life, I see value. With that said, let's get this going.

Yes, this is the house of money and material things. Yes, it will deal with your personal finances. But no, unless other parts of your chart/Synastry agree with it, somebody's placements falling here should not have a lasting effect. It might merely indicate you overspending on dates and gifts. The 2H is the house of YOUR money, which means that the whole "oh, they're gonna shower you in gifts!", "And this is a sugar baby aspect!", "Your person will want to spend all their money on you and buy you expensive things!" is probably not gonna happen, sorry. If it does, it will be you spending your money.

(And if you do spend your money, the whole "gifts" thing is also not that common, because normal people don't just go around buying gifts for others every other day of the week, unless they have some sort of imbalance. Such a consumerist mindset! Not everything is about paying for things or buying things. That's a VERY American culture of dating, specially for women. This nasty idea that a man has to buy you or he's not good. Which is what encourages habits like thinking the man always has to be covering your finances (how old are you, 5? Get a job and pay for your own damn self! You are an adult woman), paying for your food, buying you a house, giving you gifts all the time and affording expensive dates. You are not a product. If your biggest incentive to be with a man is because of how much he pays for you, then that's the world's oldest profession, not a relationship of love. So this should play out more like them helping you manage your own finances. Don't go around thinking a 2H love placement is gonna turn you into Cinderella.)

If you do happen to be a stay-at-home person in your relationship, which is valid, as long as it's not all about money, 2H love placements and synastry will talk more about other material aspects of things. It will talk of stability, sustainability, longevity and security.

(e.g.: it could mean that you allocate your resources towards creating a safe, stable environment for your life together to flourish, such as buying things for your home together, revising your finances to make life goals and plans together more viable, setting budgets to achieve milestones together... as well as the literal physical aspects of valuables, so using your resources towards nourishment (food, shelter, clothing and health). Things that will ensure your relationship lasts and endures through hardships and tribulations. In the 2H of values, Synastry could indicate the relationship itself becoming your prized possession that you take care of. All the Earth houses are about caring for things, just in different ways.)

Another poorly explored aspect of the 2H is values in the moral, spiritual and emotional sense. It's WORTH. Both the causes you find worthy as well as your self-worth. A 2H love placement or Synastry can and will directly affect that. Even if you do happen to be dealing with financial/material things too, that can affect your self-worth directly.

(e.g.: say you are married to someone who is constantly in debt, or say your spouse is the breadwinner of the household and you depend on them financially. That can really take a toll on your self-worth. It can bring feelings of poor self-esteem, can you make you feel undervalued, inadequate, make you feel like a burden, or make you feel incapable of caring for yourself. It can strike your self-confidence and make you VALUE yourself less. Or the opposite. Your spouse may open you up to new possibilities of making money, which in turn gets you into a new passion project that you succeed in and that can make you feel like a worthy person, make you believe in yourself, make you feel important and valuable.)

I would argue that most often, it's the 8H Synastry that will really have your partner's materials affecting you, because the 2H is the house of your PERSONAL gains, while the 8H is the house of OTHERS' gains and possessions. Most often, the biggest impact I'd say 2H love placements have will be dealing with self-worth, self-confidence, shared values and morals, feelings of belonging and acceptance.

General Things ✨

What I see most often is that positive and negative outcomes tend to happen simultaneously. It's not all doom and gloom, but it's also not all sunshine and rainbows all the time. Sometimes it's great, sometimes it's not so great, and those ups and downs come and go. That's just life. Both are there to be worked with, worked for, or worked through. At the end of the day, astrology will not mandate your life events, and you have to always be learning from your life, and working on yourself and the things that matter to you. Astrology is just a guiding light to identify possible themes to be mindful of.

**************************************************

That's it! Thank you if you've read it this far! I might have come off a bit harsh (I hope I haven't), but I promise I'm nice lol.

My whole goal is to try to discuss astrology in as realistically as possible, but while making it clear that any possible outcome is plausible. If most times all you hear are fantastic stereotypical descriptions of placements, such as 7H, the not so great ways in which it can play out will be explored here to help people navigate them. If all you hear are bad things about a house, then I'll try to show the positive ways in which it can come out.

The whole point is to try to bring a wide range of notions to these descriptions, together with the information that is already out there and available by many other creators.

At the end of the day, remember this is all POSSIBILITIES. Your personal life has to be analysed to know what's gonna ensue. And don't be discouraged, because the truth is that positive and negative effects tend to happen together for your best.

Hope you have a good day when you find this!

MASTERLIST

[zyonsay]

Snowfall SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

Summary: Watch duty has gotten much more interesting...

Reader: Genderneutral

Warnings: Disgusting fluff, Ghost is a softie

Now playing: 'Sex,Drugs, Etc.' by Beach Weather

AN: I HAVE RISEN FROM THE DEAD!! Jokes, but i really cant find any motivation to write at the moment. Then suddenly this came up and i thought why not make some people happy and write it down :P Honestly felt good writing again after such a long time. Also, Fun Fact: I wrote this whole thing in OneNote. Anyways, have fun with it!

It's a cold, crisp night. Snow had fallen over the last few days, a gentle blanket of white laying over the landscape. You and Ghost were on watch duty, holed up in an abandoned military watchtower.

Your legs dangle lightly as you sit on the outskirt of the watchtower, your eyes scanning the area. There were various warehouses and icy gravel roads to observe. Nothing much has happened besides the occasional fox or deer  passing by. You've joined the 141 only a few weeks ago as an assault rifle specialist and had only participated in two major missions. To a lot of people's surprise, Ghost had grown quite fond of you. He noticed how reliable you were, which was what initially drew him in. But the more often he got stuck on watch duty and patrols with you, the more he started appreciating your friendly, stubborn nature. You didn't seem scared like everyone else did, but you also didn't pry on him like some others tried to.

Even through his mask and balaclava, Ghosts breath formed small white clouds, like a dragon of some sorts. The snow under his boots crunched as he walked towards you and plopped down next to you.

He glances over at you, studying your profile. You looked focused, your sharp gaze scanning the surroundings for anything suspicious. You felt his eyes on you, making you turn your head towards the man, a sweet grin on your lips. Ghost immediately whirled his head the other way, feeling embarrassed that you caught his usual stoic expression faltering. A light flush crept onto his cheeks, which you couldn't see but might've also just guessed by the way he averted his gaze. He clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure, but he can't help the light upwards tug of his lips. Even in this brutal weather you'd managed to make him smile.

Theres a moment of silence, only accompanied by the occasional croak of a crow or the creaking of old metal framework. Ghost looks back out into the distance, trying to distract himself. Very sneakily you gather some of the snow that had settled around you and with a quick movement you hurled it right at your Lieutenants face. He gasped at the sudden sensation, even if most of it was blocked by his mask. He blinks for a second, taken aback and then turns to look at you. "Oi, what the- " , he splutters, shaking off some of the snow that managed to spill through his mask. He glares at you for a moment, but there was no real anger in that. Perhaps only a bit of amusement. He shakes his head a bit more, trying to get the rest of the snow out.

Then, without a warning, he grabs a handful himself and tosses it right back at you. The powdery white mass plopped right against your face, a lot of it was luckily blocked off by your balaclava. You shake your head, laughing. "You're done for Simon." Ghost grins under his mask, watching the snow fall from your face, some small flecks still sticking to your skin. "Is that a challenge, Sergeant?", he retorts while gathering more snow in  his hand. "Yes, yes it is Lieutenant.", you bunch some snow to a ball. He lets out a low chuckle and rolls the ball of snow in his gloved hands. "Careful what you wish for, love.", he playfully warns with a prominent grin, even under his mask. "Are you threatening me?", you raise an eyebrow in faux offense. "What if i was?", his voice sounding gruff but his soft expression gives away the lightheartedness in his statement.

Swiftly, you attack. The snowball in your hand thunders towards Ghost, even if he wasn't all that far away. He narrowly ducked it and was quick to hurl his own snowball at you, hitting you right in the chest. Out of reflex you throw yourself against him, taking a handful of snow with you and rubbing it into his mask. He gasps while you wrestle him to the ground. "Got you." For good measure you scooped another handful into his face.

He looks up at you, small puffs of white escaping into the cold air. He can't deny that, you did get him. He could easily overpower you, but for now he was entranced by the sight of you straddling him, snow sticking to your balaclava. The weight and warmth of your body was welcoming and made his breath hitch. Bloody Hell, he thinks to himself at the scene at hand. Now that you've caught your breath, you realized that you were basically sitting in your Lieutenants lap, a light flush crept across your face. As realization dawns on you, a storm of emotions is set off in Ghost. His blood is running through his veins, hot and fast. He can feel his heart hammering in his chest.

Ghost hesitates. He's still Lieutenant Ghost, professional and composed. Usually. He swallows hard, his normally distant demeanor dropping immediately. Part of him is telling him to pull away and maintain that professional distance, but the other part, that is admittedly winning, wants to pull you closer. Simon licks his lips, his voice thick with restraint as he speaks. "Sarge…"

You pull off your balaclava, tossing it aside. His eyes widen slightly as you expose your face to the cold breeze, your cheeks flushed and your hair messy. Your unguarded, raw expression makes his heart skip a beat. Ghost can't help it. He reaches up, his gloved hand shaking lightly, cupping your cheek. You close your eyes, leaning into his touch. He takes a moment to study your face, memorizing each little spot and the curve of your lips. The part of him which was trying to keep his composure has now officially lost the battle. "You make it real hard to stay professional.", he murmurs. "I hope so.", you open your eyes again. You inch closer to his face, the only barrier between you is his mask and the balaclava underneath. With gentle fingers you tug on the black fabric.

Simon gasps softy, your touch sending small jolts of electricity through him. He feels his heart racing as you push up the balaclava, only enough to reveal his chapped lips and his chin, dusted with blonde stubble. He can feel your breath on his skin, only millimeters away. The anticipation is killing him, he can't wait any longer. He needs to feel you, to taste you. Without much of a warning, he pulls you closer, crushing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. A soft gasp escapes you as your eyes flutter shut. One of your hands rests on his chest, holding on as if your life depended on it. Ghosts mind is consumed by your taste, your warmth, the weight of your body on his. His hands wander up to your waist, holding you steadily in place.

The snow and the cold are the last things on your mind right now, not when Simon tastes so deliciously of cigarettes and spearmints. His presence engulfs you entirely, making you lose all feeling of time and space.

That is until Simons radio crackles on the floor next to you, "Alright you two, return to base for a debrief. Turn the radio off next time."

[crowhoonter]

The Moon Presence holds a special place in my heart in terms of souls games final bosses because of the sheer what the fuckness of it all. All of the other final bosses have some kind of build up; Dark Souls can't go one minute without mentioning Gwyn, Nashandra and Aldia are major figures in Ds2's lore, the Soul of Cinder, while never directly alluded to is another example of the converging of time and space in 3, Isshin plays a large part in Sekiro's story, and Radagon is a major lore character with Elden Beast being pretty easy to clock as a manifestation of the Greater Will.

Flora, the Moon Presence, though? She comes out of nowhere. There are maybe two lines alluding to her existence at all, those being the workshop umbilical cord and the lecture hall note. The closest you otherwise get is the references to the terrible hunter's dream, which doesn't immediately conjure the idea of her to mind.

Even better we don't even know what she really wants. Oh sure, there are plenty of theories and inferences we can make. Maybe she uses Hunters like hitmen to prevent infant great ones from threatening her, maybe she's keeping a natural order running, maybe she wants to spread the beast plague, maybe she wants to prevent mankind's evolution, maybe she just plain loves violence. In the end though, its all still maybes. Girly walks on in and her mere existence changes so much about the story, yet she refuses to elaborate on anything.

Another very interesting aspect is, and this is probably a somewhat baseless observation, we don't really know what she is. Everywhere else in the game, Great Ones have some line of text associating them with that status. Oedon, Baby Mergo, Kos, Amygdala, The Brain of Mensis, Ebrietas. All of them have text somewhere that directly refers to them with that moniker, but Flora? Nowhere will you find something calling her a great one. Hell, in the Japanese translation, she is called "Moon Demon." It is probably safe and the intended inference that she is a great one, but the thought she might not be does tickle me nonetheless.

Then there is her role in the story. The Great Ones are said to be sympathetic in spirit, and there definitely is a part of her that echoes that sentiment. The way she cradles the hunter is like that of a mother holding a child, yet she seems to be a lot more manipulative than the Great Ones we see in game. They typically cause suffering not by tricking or making deals, but by being unaware of how they affect the world with their actions. Getting picked up by Amygdalae seems like a curious child picking up a lizard, unaware that they are hurting it. Flora though, there does seem to be a certain level of maliciousness beyond accidental. Gehrman's pain and suffering is clear to see, yet she keeps him chained to the dream because of whatever bargain he made (presumably animating the Doll). She does the same to the hunter should you forgo the umbilical cords. She also doesn't seem to want a surrogate like other Great Ones, maybe settling for keeping humans as pets rather than having an actual child.

She really is one of the best Fromsoft final bosses because of the sheer strangeness and the wrench her presence throws into the game's story. We can get a concept of most of Bloodborne's story with a bit of interpretation and reading between the lines, but she will forever be an enigma. For what purpose did Laurence and Gehrman summon her? Why is she seemingly not worshiped unlike other Great Ones? Does she desire a surrogate or are humans pets good enough? We may never know, and that is wonderful.

Stay enigmatic queen, live your freak life

[planetpedri]

Unrequited love (& other clichés) — Kai Havertz.

Pairing: Kai Havertz x Fem!Reader

Summary: Kai must’ve looked too hard into whatever you two had going on, because you didn’t seemed to feel the same.

Word count: 650+

Disclaimer/s: Angst I fear.. all angst.. maybe a little bit of hope at the end though ..

A/N: This is for @ar4ujos and @hrts4havertz specifically.

Kai breathed quietly while you two walked along the winding brick roads. He knew you haven’t been having the best time lately, so he wanted to show you he was there, that he cared. He’d showed up at your house, offered you his hand, told you to go on a walk with him, he even felt his heart squeeze at the sight of your smile.

Now, you two walked along a random road in the outskirts of the city. The roads clearly decaying with decades of use.

The moon lit up the sky, casting a welcoming glow over the two of you. His hand intertwined with yours, a light hold to keep you beside him. You didn’t say anything as you walked, you simply observed the buildings around you silently.

It wasn’t so late that the shops were closed, but the moon had come out already, and the streets were quiet. He heard a quiet gasp leave your lips when you walked past a flower shop, his attention quickly turning to it.

“Do you want to go in?” He asks, gaze drifting to your wide eyed face.

“Yes.” You reply, instantly.

He chuckles, giving your hand a quick tug before opening the door and letting you go in first. Inside the shop, you browse the array of bouquets. Commenting on the ones you like and don’t like, you don’t seem to notice the way Kai had plucked one flower from the ones you liked.

By the end, he’d had a full hand of flowers. You turn around to ask if he was ready to go, when you notice. You let out a laugh, “seriously?”

“Dead serious.” He nods, “let’s find the cash register?” Trailing behind him in disbelief, with a small smile on your lips, you make your way to the cashier.

Once back on the street, you sniffing the flowers and Kai watching you with a fire growing in his stomach, you continue your stroll about the town.

You walk and talk for hours. Kai asking you about various topics, your family, job, the things you liked, and vise versa. You found the both of you had more similarities than you’d ever thought. The watch on your wirst read half past eight, but neither of you were ready for the night to end.

You only stop when he spotted a bench to sit at so you could both rest your feet. “I’m surprised you don’t have a boyfriend,” Kai adds subtly.

“Not really looking for anything romantic.” You shrug in response, “it doesn’t interest me.”

He felt disappointed shoot throughout his body, straight to his heart. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up, but you were too perfect not to feel hope for.

You give him a warm smile, “if I were to though, you’d be a prime candidate.” It could’ve been a joke, but it still stung. But, supposed it was better than nothing. “Unfortunately, now is definitely not the time for me to start anything in that way.”

Double sting.

He had a chance, but he’d have to wait. And Kai could do that. For you, he would. Then you looked up at him, a hidden emotion deep within your eyes that he wished so badly he could decipher.

You made him feel a mess, he didn’t want to be just friends, but you didn’t want to be.. anything. Not right now. For a while, he believed the feeling may have been reciprocated. Clearly he was just a fool.

You noticed the shift in his demeanor, your body tensing slightly. You felt guilty, you wanted to let him know how much he meant to you, but you couldn’t. It was simply for the better that he didn’t get involved with you right now.

“Walk me home?” You ask, “it’s late.”

Kai nods, standing up from the bench and offering out his hand. Always a gentleman, even when you’d broke his heart in two.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any of my posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @ar4ujos @hrts4havertz @sakashq @spidybaby !

[shatcey]

Dark IF (William)

The main part of this event basically coincides with William's main story. I'm not even kidding. The same situations, the same words… At first I was pretty sad about it but… the endings are really good.

Of course, I finished both of them. I liked the bitter ending better. Perhaps, like certain someone (who say the exact opposite), I love drama too much.

After Victor send Kate to the twisted word with parting words "it's in you hands to find the happy ending..." Kate recalled...

Not creapy at all... all things considered...

As soon as Kate appears in the twisted world, she meets Cheshire cat Liam. Who introduced himself quite happily. Suddenly the bell rings. And Liam explained that this meant that someone had been beheaded on the orders of King of Hearts William. And this is a common occurrence in this world.

Kate seemed to ask too many questions about William, and Liam asked if she was interested in him. But no, she just needs to find what's missing. The lying Fox Harrison appeared. And Liam recommends him as an informant.

I'm not in a position to judge, but if someone was presented as a "liar"… why would you trust him? And even more so to buy information from him? Who knows what he's telling you. Well, we all know that we can trust Harry, but this is her first time meeting him. There's no way she could have known about it.

Kate had nothing to pay, so she decided to look for information on her own. Liam told her about William's abilities and advised her to be cautious around him.

She decided that it would be very stupid to meet William without preparation. This guy must be crazy (these are her thoughts, not mine). She resolutely went to the city and… found herself in front of his castle. It's really a destiny.

She looked at the strangely familiar castle (familiar to me, not to her), but decided that she shouldn't go there…

How did he manage to jump so high? Is he magical? Don't tell me it's Benjamin… Wait a minute… Jewel? Victor? Are you playing matchmaker again, you little... rabbit?

And, of course, there were no guards or servants in this castle, so no one stopped her, and she ended up in the dining room with William… There may have been servants there, but they've been turned into furniture or something. Oh, sorry… the wrong fairy tale…

How did he know her name? He… сan't read minds for real this time, can he?

…and we on his main route. Do fun stuff and became free from the morality and expectations of society. And, of course, Kate fell for him very hard. Nothing new.

A sudden thought…. Are we stuck on Groundhog Day by any chance?

She couldn't find what is missing so returned to Harrison. Harry asked her what she would give him for this information.

Harry replied with his canonical "that's not half bad" and told her about William.

It turns out that the people William executes have committed terrible crimes in the past, but cannot be judged by the law. So he chooses the path of destroying "evil with evil". Strangely familiar isn't? And since the bells were ringing at that time, many people were so scared of it that the number of crimes in this country decreased significantly.

And as a bonus, he added that there is Mad Hatter who is plotting something against William. He wants to dethrone William and take his place. Indeed, this guy is crazy.

Kate returns to the castle and asks William to explain himself. So he tells her about why he frees people. He said exactly the same as he said on his route. A selfish observer… something like that. And he asks her what she wants, and… she tell him. And in the morning she wakes up in his bed, remembering last night and blushing. Typical Kate.

But she noticed opened letter and read it…

And here we have two endings. The developers don't give any recommendations, but it seems to me that chronologically the bitter ending comes first. You'll understand what I mean.

Bitter ending

Kate remembered her conversation with Harry and decided that she needed to warn Will about Mad Hatter. But she searched the whole castle and couldn't find him. She thinks he's probably gone to the court, and she has a very bad feeling about it.

She ran out of the castle, just wondering for a moment where exactly the court was, and Liam ran up to her. Explaining that there was a commotion in the court, but he didn't see her and became worried. Kate asked him to show her which way the court was, which he did.

In court, the final verdict is announced by the judge

I'm so glad it's not Vivi. This guy is really crazy.

The guards pulled out their guns and pointed them at William. Wait a minute… Are you going to do it right here? There will be blood everywhere… Oh, you have red carpets, so there's nothing to worry about. Okay, continue.

At the last moment… Kate jumped out of nowhere and covered Will with her body. I really thought he was going to die this time… But that's impossible when Kate is around.

Right, we need Roger! Roger, where are you? Oh... right... the wrong fairy tale... again

He asks her why she did it, and she replies that she doesn't know, her body moved on its on. She loses consciousness due to blood loss and doesn't hear his words.

I have goosebumps. This is so…

She thinks that she still cannot leave, she has forgotten something… In the black void of nothingness, she finally remembered. Then she was a child and could do whatever she liked, she visited Wonderland and met the king of hearts. They spent several days together, and she did whatever she wanted, and if she was in danger, William protected her. But he said she had to come home. As parting words, he asked her to be honest about her wishes. She asked him what if she became the one who wouldn't do it?

Oh, so this is what she heard at the beginning?...

Kate opens her eyes and find herself in the library. There is no pain or blood on her. She's definitely returned back to the real world. She remembers everything. She promised to protect him when they met again, but she forgot about it. And because of that, she faced such a bad ending. She looks around and thinks that, despite the fact she return to the real world, this place seems bleak. Because her lover is not here…

She thinks that even if she finds herself in Wonderland again, the same ending may await her. But her heart is free, and it screams that she wants to see him again… And this time with determination to find her happy ending… she "jumps" into the book.

Victor and Harrison are in the theater-like place. Harry informs Victor that Kate will be coming back to them soon.

I'm not sure if Vivi said "you", he could say "we" or "me"… I didn't take a screenshot with JP's text.

So… this endless sad circle can only be broken with a happy ending. And for that, she just needs to find what is missing…

Premium ending

Kate read the letter and decided to warn William again, but this time he came up to her with a tray of tea.

Oh, can you make tea? Why am I even surprised, you're the same perfect self.

She asks him about a letter and what he plans to do. Of course he will come, because that's what he has to do to stay true to himself. She reply he could be killed… But he doesn't think that's a big deal. Kate clings to his jacket to keep him from leaving… And we're back to his route…

Kate begged him to cancel the order, not to leave her… But he only smiled and kissed her on the forehead. The door closed and Kate wondering why this William's kiss seemed so familiar to her. And she remembered memories from her childhood. When they parted, she promised to protect him the next time they met, he laughed and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

They must be magical…

So… Remembering everything, she was even more determined to help him, but that she could possibly do… Scream, girl, it always works if you need to attract attention.

But she didn't even have to do that, Liam came in. She's freed from Will's order and can run after him, and the same as it was at the Bitter ending, she asked Liam to show the way.

In court, the judge passes the same sentence, the guards point guns at Will, and Kate jumps in front of him again

Will laughs and asks her why she acted like it was the end. Kate suddenly realized that she didn't feel any pain. She looked at the place where she thought she had been shot.

As I thought… The watch is magical… It catches all the bullets.

Will looked around at the people in court, ordered them to "Not move" and called Harrison over. Harry showed up and explained that Mad Hatter was spreading false rumors about William, but in fact these were his crimes. And members of parliament take bribes to hide them. Criminals!

William said that if it was only Mad Hatter's sincere wish, he would have allowed himself to be killed. But Mad Hatter started destroying other people's lives, and he can't forgive him. So…

And again, it's good that they have red carpets… What am I saying?..

Several days later Kate and William are having a crazy tea party for two in the dining room. Kate asks if he knows what is missing. She hasn't returned home, so she still hasn't found it. He says if she wants to come home, he won't stop her. But she means exactly the opposite. If she had known what was missing, she would never have found it to stay with him forever.

So he has a theory, but...

This kind of won't help… I'll definitely forget what we talked about in an instant…

I didn't buy epilogue, but I probably will… if so, I will write about it later. If there's anything in it besides "hot stuff". And… if there's still a point in it. This event will most likely take place on the EN server in late November or early December.

My thoughts

I really like the way they combine everything together. The clock, the voice she heard, the feeling that she had forgotten something important… It's really amazing. At first, I was really upset that story was repeated. But the developers managed to create a new version based on the old one, and it's really amazing. After a slight change in the key points, everything looks completely different. Will's magic call was presence on the main route, but it was a subtle hint like her deep thoughts. This is the main key here. He called her, he lured her into this world. The first, the second time… maybe millions of times. And she continued to follow his call. It really feels like destiny.

I'm actually really curious… If William's story is so similar with his route, maybe other's stories as well? I haven't read Alfons's story, I was waiting for it to appear on the EN server, so I can't be sure.

I really like the idea of Victor as a god-like character, a kind of storyteller… who knows how the story should be like… and don't stop until it's exactly like that. Or… I have goosebumps… he is destiny itself.

And I'm really interested to know what the role of the Fox is in this world… Why does he remember everything, even if everyone's memories supposed to be reset?

In addition, I want to say that the part in the real world on the bitter ending is written so well that I was tempted to show you the whole scene. But I was stopped by the number of screenshots that I could put in one post. I really like it, it gives me goosebumps, no matter how many times I reread it. And yes, I cried… It's too good…

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🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[fall0utmind]

Medical leak AU pt 7

It's 11pm, have 5k words of whump from Vale's POV.

Chapter 7 - Vale's Interlude - A03

Parts 1-6 on the #medical leak au tag

Usual TW apply (suicide, abusing pain meds - no graphic details)

LMK what you think

Ever since the news broke, Valentino had been overwhelmed by a myriad of confusing feelings.

He first heard whispers in the paddock on Friday morning. He was walking past some journalists and had noticed the excited murmuring that usually accompanied big news. It wasn’t until he heard Marquez’s name that he stopped, pretending to be busy so he could eavesdrop.

Although he liked to pretend Marc was no longer important, he could not deny his interest in the man. Marc had ruined his untarnished career; it was only normal to feel such intense rage whenever he was reminded of the man. It was the reason he still spoke about him, he needed the world to understand the injustice, to feel his hatred. Because that was what this was all about. Hatred. He knew the boys would call him obsessed, but really, he was just getting a better idea of the enemy, for Pecco’s sake. He scoffed when he figured out what the journalists were talking about, the apparent breaking news– yeah, as if. He continued walking, amused by the idea. It was preposterous, all Marc wanted was to beat Valentino, to take his records. He wouldn’t have given up on that. The one thing Marc loved more than anything else was winning. He shook his head; Marc was never so weak.

It wasn’t till later, when he sat watching the press conference, that a sliver of doubt crept in.

He considered himself an expert in Marc. The way he calculated every action, how he performed every expression. Everything was a persona with him. But after the first question, it all crumbled. He watched pure fear cross Marc’s face before he could school it. The press constantly brought up 2015, it usually made Valentino feel slightly vindicative, the way Marc always had to paste on his media smile. This time, though, he only experienced a creeping sense of dread. Marc was trying to get them to move on from the topic, with limited success. Valentino observed the way Pecco was staring at Marc, concern and bemusement unhidden in his countenance. It made Vale frown. The atmosphere in the press room was tense, even through the screen.  

It only got worse.

Marc was staring into the distance, looking at something off-camera, his expression alarmed. The next question was worse, shaking Marc out of his daze. He watched in fascination as Marc’s façade fell apart, sweat glistening on his brow, his face carefully blank to the casual observer. Valentino flinched when his name was mentioned, and his stomach dropped at the sentence that was uttered.

Marc? Suicide? No way. No, that wasn’t possible.

Valentino was clenching and unclenching his fists, his brow furrowed as he intently stared at the screen. He thought he might be having a heart attack.

Jesus.

He was fixated on Marc’s face; Valentino saw the horror dawn on his face as understanding settled and felt his own nausea rising in response. He watched as the Marc on-screen flitted his eyes to the other riders on stage, he followed the younger man’s gaze. Pecco looked wrecked, fear shining in his eyes. The others didn’t look much better. The silence was deathly; Marc was frozen in place – a rabbit in headlights.

Valentino blinked. Marc shot out of his seat, sending it clattering to the floor. He watched in horrifying confusion as Marc fled. There was a second of quiet before the media room exploded. The three remaining riders looked bemused, staring after where Marc had bolted, before they too rose to their feet, trailing out of the room in a daze. Valentino had to close his eyes for a second. This could not be happening. Seriously. This had to be some elaborate joke, a media ploy from Marc’s team. He simply could not believe that happy, carefree Marc had done this. He settled slightly, yes, of course. It had to be false. Marc would never give up, no matter how bad it had gotten.

*

Thoughts of Marc were still on his mind when he found Pecco later. He wondered what had happened and why Marc had reacted in that way. A part of him thought this must have been some elaborate ploy to gain sympathy.

Pecco was sitting despondently on the settee in his motorhome, deep in thought. Vale once more cursed Marc Marquez, of course, Marc couldn’t just leave Valentino alone, he had to fuck with his students too. Anger rose within him; he shoved it down. Right now, he had to focus on Pecco. He sat down, their knee knocking as he did so, and sighed quietly.

“Are you okay?”, he asked.

“Ah, I do not know. Cazzo, that was hard to watch”, Pecco replied.

Valentino cocked an eyebrow, there was more anxiety in Pecco’s voice than he had anticipated. He had hoped that it wouldn’t have affected his student as much, Marc was clearly fine, wasn’t he? He said as much to the other man, who scowled in response.

“You’re joking, Vale. You should have seen him after, he was a mess, throwing up in the toilets, almost crying. It was horrible”, Pecco snarled. It raised Vale’s hackles, Pecco didn’t know Marc the way that he did.

Marc was a manipulator; he changed that narrative to suit himself. He would do anything to win, including betraying people he claimed to love. He got people on his side by any means. The way he’d convinced Ducati to hire him for next year still baffles Vale. Sure, he was a good rider, but putting him in red was a bad move, stupid if you asked Vale. Marc was dangerous, and unpredictable. Ducati was Italy’s pride, and they had gone and put enemy number one on their bike. Valentino’s frustration had nothing to do with his title record and his own failure on the Ducati machine.

Nothing at all.

Valentino tried not to consider it too hard, how much he thought of Marc. In his weaker moments, he allowed himself to reminisce on what could have been. He hated to admit his former soft spot for Marc, the way the younger looked at him as if he had hung the moon and the stars. At his worst, he let himself imagine sharp cheekbones and pink lips, of loud laughter and warm brown eyes. Marc should always be smiling; even going through tragedy, he smiled. The thought of him in pain made him shudder. But he was not in pain, because it was a lie. It was abhorrent to think of it as the truth. It could not be. It went against the very fabric of the universe. It was a bit like this: he hated Marc Marquez, and Marc Marquez was a smug bastard who was always infuriatingly happy. These were two facts that he clung to desperately.

He turned back to Pecco, who had gone stiff beside him. Valentino had heard that Alex Marquez had swept Marc back to their motorhome after the press conference, he tried not to think too hard about that. Clearly, it had shaken Pecco, and Vale didn’t like that one bit. He settled a hand on the younger’s back, ignoring his own thoughts for a minute.

“Pecco, you cannot let this get to you”, he said. “Let Marquez deal with his stuff, it will blow over soon enough.”

Pecco did not look settled by his answer, but Vale did not have anything else to say, instead, he changed the conversation into a practice debrief, easier territory for them both.

If only he had been correct.

*

Marc got pole position in qualifying. It made Valentino grit his teeth in frustration, wondering how the hell the Spaniard was beating the others on a year-old bike. He had been watching Marc carefully in his box, noting his slightly subdued manner. It made an unnamed emotion swell within him. He pushed it down. His stomach soured when he caught sight of Andrea Dovizioso in the Gresini garage, looking at Marc with unconcealed fondness. He was all over the Spaniard, the two of them laughing together like children. Surely nothing was that funny. The ugly feeling only grew when they walked past whilst Vale and Pecco were chatting in the paddock, the older whispering to Marc. Valentino couldn’t help but stare, as he always did when it came to Marc.

Valentino didn’t notice the man until it was too late. He watched it happen in slow motion- the cruel words and Marc’s heart-breaking reaction. The ‘fan’ was brutal, viciously attacking Marc. It was hard to watch the way his face broke, his eyes going shiny with tears. Valentino’s world stopped at the hurt he saw. By the time his brain came back online, Pecco had gone, stalking over to the incident. He followed closely, grimacing as Pecco began to shout at the man. Marc was being dragged away by Dovi,  Vale tried to shove down the misplaced discomfort at seeing the two together, it almost felt akin to jealousy. But that was impossible. He had nothing to be jealous of.

(Nothing).

He re-focussed on the way that security was hauling the man away from them and towards the exit. Valentino tugged Pecco’s sleeve, wanting to escape from the public as soon as possible. He swallowed down the feelings which threatened to rise at what he had just witnessed.

“Come on, let’s go, it’s not worth it”, he sighed, pausing briefly before continuing, “you are upset, it is not worth staying and watching, we will make sure he never comes back. I promise.”

Pecco relented. His face was distraught, his anguish clear. By the time they reached the Ducati motorhome, Pecco had fully retreated into himself and asked to be left alone. Valentino accepted the request despite his concern. He did not really want to abandon the younger man but felt he had no choice after he had almost screwed up that morning.

Being alone gave him time to think, as uncomfortable as it was. He was surprised by the venom that had laced the man’s voice as he spoke to Marc, it made Valentino wonder if that was usually how people addressed him. He could understand Marc’s reaction to such horrible words, and Pecco had always been a kind-hearted person. Dovi’s intentions were still unclear to Vale. He let his thoughts drift back to Marc- his sad eyes and blank face. It couldn’t be easy to be hated so viciously. To make matters worse, a quick look on social media told him that a lot of people had said similar things. He thought back to his interview this morning, where he had suggested that they disregard thinking about Marc’s life from 10 years ago. It was, after all, pointless. The past was the past. Clearly, he was alone in his views. He pointedly did not lament the fact that Sepang and his 10th were a decade ago too, because that was different. He closed his eyes, pushing away the mental image of Marc’s shattered face.

Instead, he focussed on his anger. The way Marc had practically fallen in Dovi’s arms as if he was anything but a lone wolf, an outsider in the paddock. He had heard whisperings in the paddock that Dani Pedrosa and Jorge Lorenzo were in Gresini today too. It seemed like Marc was inviting all the retired riders to watch. He did not analyse the feelings too much, but let the indignation rise within him. Marc’s stupid games were affecting Pecco, it was unfair. Vale frowned at the thought, it would not do, he would have to tell Marc to cut it out. Make sure that Marc knew that Valentino knew the truth.

It wasn’t too difficult to catch Marc before the sprint. The younger had, predictably, taken the quiet route through the motorhomes to get to the garages. What was more unexpected was the tense fight that occurred. Valentino had expected to call Marc out and be met with annoyance and maybe an admittance of guilt. He had not anticipated the stone-cold fury in Marc’s voice, nor his own rising emotions, made worse when he spotted Dovizioso’s stupid jumper. He tried to keep his temper under control but the thought of Marc lying to the media, making everyone feel bad, only to be doing that, with Andrea of all people, left a sour taste in his mouth. He was meaner than he intended to be and was met with blazing anger from Marc. There was startling hurt in his voice. It was only once Marc had turned on his heel and stalked away that Valentino realised that the younger had had tears in his eyes and that he had sounded scarily like he was telling the truth. He watched him leave as regret welled up inside of him.

Merda

*

When Marc crashed out of the sprint race, the guilt and regret increased tenfold. His heart had stopped when Marc had collided with the ground, nausea rising when he did not move after. He could not stop thinking about the look on the younger’s face as he had called him an attention seeker. It hurt too much. Suddenly, ten years of anger seemed irrelevant. To make it worse, now people were talking about more leaks, something about Marc and painkillers. Valentino wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. He was beginning to question why Marc would do this to himself.

Afterwards, Valentino tuned into the stream of the media pen, not wanting to go down in person. Pecco had won the race, and Marc had gotten back to his feet, scoring no points but alive. Valentino could only watch in horrified fascination as the press continued to hound Marc. He had never seen it so bad. The way the journalists watched Marc like they were hunting prey made him shiver. He didn’t think he had ever seen Marc look so ruffled. A distant voice told him that this was his fault. The aftermath of Sepang flashed through his head, he steadfastly ignored it. It was not his fault the media had broken into Marc’s house. He had not caused the fallout or the hatred, if Marc had not ruined his title chances, there would have been no issues. Valentino scowled at the thoughts.

His momentary distraction ended when Marc once more stalked out mid-interview. It left Vale feeling slightly dumbfounded. Why would Marc keep having such strong reactions to the news if it was planned? As much as he hated to admit it, his theory was beginning to show cracks, splintering at the edge. He chose not to consider the other feelings that came alongside that revelation. Instead, he turned off his phone, hoping the boys would provide some distraction when they came back.

The boys came pouring into his motorhome an hour later, after their celebrations and debrief, as was usual for the academy on a race weekend. Luca and Bez were first, talking between themselves about the race, making Valentino smile with their rehashing of the events. When Franky entered, he was complaining about how long his debrief had lasted, making Valentino grin as he reminisced. Long debriefs were always painstakingly boring. Pecco and Cele eventually stumbled in half an hour later, the older still buzzing from his win. Vale tried to let his awkwardness from earlier show as a round of cheers sounded. He congratulated Pecco warmly, and let happiness fill him at the sight of Pecco’s beaming smile in return. Things would be okay.

Valentino drifted in and out of the conversation after that, his thoughts elsewhere. He nodded at appropriate times and tried to look interested whilst his mind whirled. It was inevitable, really, that someone would bring up Marquez eventually.

 “Did you see Marquez’s crash?”, Bez asked.  

It prompted a round of affirmative hums from the others. Luca flicked his eyes over to Valentino, his eyebrows furrowed.

Pecco looked contemplative before he responded, “I am worried, he would not look at me on the grid. Then he crashed. He was distracted. I think the media are being too harsh. And the fans. They are being cruel. The things being said...”

He trailed off, deep in thought. Luca bumped their shoulders together, smiling gently when Pecco met his eyes. Valentino had the distinctive feeling that he was missing something.

“Did you hear about what happened in the press pen?”, Cele asked.

Pecco frowned at him, tilting his head to signal that he should continue.

“Apparently, he froze up completely when they asked him about the pain medication. Aleix and a few others basically carried him out. I saw it happen; I’ve never seen him like that before. It was horrible”.

His eyes flashed to Valentino as he spoke the last bit as if he feared being chastised. It made him feel distinctly uncomfortable, was he really so obsessed with Marc that his boys were afraid to mention him?

Bez looked on in confusion. He turned to Cele,

“What do you mean pain medication?” he asked. “I haven’t really looked at any of the articles, I thought it was bullshit? Or some kind of a joke”.

Pecco huffed slightly, scowling at Bez as he did so. The younger touched his arm in apology, and yet again Valentino felt out of the loop.

It was Luca who pulled out his phone, bringing up one of the many articles which covered the news.

“Here”, he said. “Yesterday his medical records were leaked to the press. There were a whole bunch of appointments and hospital visits documented. The main bit was at the end of 2015 and onwards. He had been to A&E twice, there was a lot about suicide attempts and Alex saving his life. Apparently, he had tried to overdose, it's unclear what happened the second time. His heart stopped I think.”

Valentino blanched. Luca grimaced slightly before continuing.

“From there, there was a whole bunch of stuff about his mental instability and risk. It looked pretty bad, even as a non-medical professional. Then today, more of it was leaked, this time about his crash in 2020. Apparently, he was abusing the painkillers prescribed to him. He would race through agony, causing more issues with his arm, and then just take a load of painkillers after to mask it. Again, Alex ended up getting him help. No wonder they are so close. I think there was a lot of concern about him using the pain as a form of self-harm or something, then it was so bad he just kept taking medication.”

Pecco spoke up then, his voice strained, “I just don’t understand how no one noticed. One of the most prominent drivers on the grid and no one noticed his declining mental health or his use of painkillers. It’s ridiculous.”

Valentino was barely listening, transfixed instead by Luca’s words. He took the phone out of Luca’s hand without asking, staring down at the article. There, in black and white, were pages and pages of clinical medical records for Marc Márquez Alentà. Valentino felt a bit sick. He couldn’t stop reading. There were blocks of gruesome detail about his A&E visits. The medical terms flew past Valentino, but he got the gist. It was bad. Page after page after page of horrific detail about every bit of pain Marc had gone through across the past decade. His eyes glanced over words, his mind conjuring the images to life. He could see 22-year-old Marc’s face, heartbroken and desolate in Sepang, and then blank afterwards. Fuck. How had he not noticed?

He wanted to stop. He couldn’t. Panic was rising inside him; he clamped it down. It was a lie. A lie. This couldn’t be true. He tore his eyes away. It swelled within him. He was going to be sick. He was losing it. Marc. He had missed it, how had he not seen it back then? The thought of his Marc like that broke him. The thought of him being the cause made him choke. He squeezed his eyes shut. Where was this coming from? Why did he care?

Vale spoke without thinking, his mind a million miles away.

“Why would he do that?”, he asked. Luca shot him a sympathetic look. Valentino had a suspicion that his face was betraying his emotional turmoil.

He choked over his next words.

“It’s not true. It can’t be true. Marc wouldn’t do this. Marc loves winning. He couldn’t win if he was 6 feet under. No. No. It must be a lie.”

Valentino knew he was now ranting like a madman. The boys were staring at him with wide eyes full of fear. He felt like he was going crazy and yet he continued.

“Why would be so selfish? Why would he do something like that? He was so young. He had so much to live for. What about his family? His brother. It’s not fair. It’s so selfish. I hate him. Bastard.”

Valentino was on the brink of tears, clutching at his hair. He didn’t notice the way Pecco’s eyes had turned hard and cold. He didn’t see the way Bez had frozen, clutching Pecco’s arm. The others were silent, shocked at his words.

Valentino looked up. He met Pecco’s eyes.

The younger man stood and stiffly walked to the door. He opened it and looked back towards Vale.

“You do not get to say things like that when you were part of the cause. Don’t you dare call him selfish. You are the bastard here”, he whispered, his words scalding. Before Valentino could respond, he was gone. Bez leapt out of his chair to follow, slamming the door behind him.

Valentino shot Luca a questioning look. His younger brother sighed,

“You are so obtuse, Vale. His sister also went through similar. She almost died. He is hurting seeing Marc this way too.”

Vale found himself full of outrage. How was he meant to know? Of course, he felt bad for Pecco, but this was Marc they were talking about. He said as much to Luca, who just shook his head, looking angrier than Vale had seen him in a long time.

“You need to wake up Valentino.”, he said.

“You do not hate Marc; you are obsessed with him. Yes, you were angry, but that was a decade ago. Surely you are over it by now. If I were you, I would consider what all your feelings about Marc really mean. Before you fuck it up even more.”

With that, the rest of the boys filed out of the motorhome, leaving Vale to stew in his anger and his guilt. He did not want to think about what Luca had meant about Marc. Instead, he would find Pecco and apologise, it was, after all, unfair to bring the boys into it. It was not his finest moment; Marc had always had that effect on him. He scowled at the thought. No one had ever been like Marc, he doubted anyone ever would. For Valentino, Marc was like a drug, inherently bad but at the same time addictive. A strange paradox for someone he hated.

Vale locked the door of the motorhome behind him as he headed out to find Pecco. The wave of anger had receded, and the guilt came crashing back down, threatening to drown him. He had to make it right.

Pecco wasn’t in his own motorhome; the lights were off as he went past, the door unanswered. He tried the Ducati garage but still had no luck. The staff had not seen him since earlier, after the sprint. Bez’s motorhome was similarly empty. He was running out of ideas and worry was beginning to engulf him.

One last idea struck him, and he walked slowly toward Marc’s motorhome, the lights were on. As he approached, the dread he felt threatened to engulf him. It was like a premonition. A war between guilt and anger was waging inside him. He heard Luca’s voice, followed by Bez’s, and the fury took hold. He threw the door open; it hit the wall with a resounding bang. He took in the scene before him, the remorse souring in his stomach, turning to resentment.

“What the fuck is going on?”

*

In hindsight, he could have handled it better. He had seen red. The thought of his boys running to Marc. Then he saw Marc on top of Dovi and Lorenzo.

He lost himself.

It wasn’t until Marc addressed him directly that he felt like he could breathe again. He returned to his body. The more Marc spoke, the more his fury faded to irrelevance. But then Valentino had spoken without conscious thought, once more putting his foot in it.

The realisation had taken his breath away. Marc had been crying. Marc had been vulnerable; he hated being perceived as weak. Marc was angry, no, he was furious. Marc had just had his deepest secrets announced to the world. He was receiving more hate than Valentino had ever seen.

He hadn’t been lying.

Why the fuck did Vale ever think he had been lying? The evidence had been right in front of him, but it had been too scary to really look at. Valentino hadn’t wanted to admit what he had done. He realised what Luca had meant then. He didn’t hate Marc. Yes, he had been angry about his tenth world championship slipping through his fingers. Yes, he had partially blamed Marc. But alongside the hurt, the anger, the pain, was pure devotion. He had lost the championship and blamed it on the nearest person to save his ego. Although Marc had done wrong, he had never deserved this. Sure, Valentino still thought he was dangerous, pushing the bike to stupid limits. But Marc would never hurt anyone on purpose. It was like falling 50 feet and hitting the ground, the realisation crashing into him. He was jealous of Dovi, that he got the Marc that smiled and laughed, the Marc that Vale used to have. Before everything had gone to shit. Valentino thought that maybe he had loved Marc for 11 years and that somewhere in his head, love had become confused with hate. He had never hated someone like he hated Marc; he had never loved someone like he loved Marc. It was all-consuming. He was obsessed. He thought about him all the time. He was always angry, scared, and jealous when it came to Marc. He couldn’t pretend he was ambivalent, not when he consumed every waking thought. Not when he still went on podcasts to talk about the younger man. Every insight was like a punch to the stomach.

He thought Marc was stupidly pretty, with his cheekbones, his bronze skin, his wide eyes and plush lips. He wanted Marc next to him, under him, above him. He wanted to kiss the stupid, smug smirk he always wore on his face; he wanted to kiss away his tears. Valentino wanted to bring Marc breakfast in bed, make him laugh, and make love to him. He wanted Marc on his track again, taking off his helmet after with wild eyes and messed up hair. He wanted to fuck him on every surface of his house, in every position. He wanted Marc in every way that he could have him.

Oh god, he loved Marc and all he had done was fuck up his life for a decade.

Valentino panicked.

He scrambled, pleading with Marc, distantly aware of the horror on everyone’s faces. He had been kicked out. Marc had shouted at him, and then Alex had shouted at him. Pecco left and Luca was disappointed.

He deserved it all. If he could take all of Marc’s pain, he would. Instead, Valentino was left with a yawning pit of desperation and want, devastation and pain. His anger was gone.

He thinks about the way the younger man used to look at him. He thinks about the adoration that he had brushed off as hero worship. He had broken Marc’s heart. The look on his face in that press conference. The way Marc would look away during Vale’s jokes about them together. He had assumed it was awkwardness, now it seemed like someone had hit too close to the truth. Now, Marc barely glanced at him, brushing off every comment Vale made to the media in a desperate hope for a sliver of attention. It destroyed them both.

Standing there, outside the motorhome, Valentino realises just how much he has fucked up. He isn’t sure there is any coming back from this. Certainly not with the way Dovi and Marc look at each other. But damn it, he will try. He will spend the rest of his life on his knees grovelling if he has to. He has spent too long with his vision clouded by misplaced anger. It had taken him 11 years to work out his love for Marquez, he would spend the rest of his life loving him, and every day trying to prove it to him. Even if it killed him.

[episims]

Irida "Hello. Are you looking for something...?"

Talia "Whoops. Ma'am, I didn't mean to trespass!! I thought I saw a butterfly over there, but that can't be since the nights are already so cold, so I got curious and went to look..."

Irida *hums* "Your observation was correct, very likely. Some butterfly species seek shelter from cold underneath leaves and such."

Talia "Ooh, I didn't know that!! And—oh my watcher, are those scales? That means you're-"

Irida "I'm a mersim, yep. Name's Irida Brine, it's a pleasure to meet you. Miss...?"

Talia "I'm Talia. Oh, I have a million questions! Do you grow a tail? Do you really live in a lake? Can you breathe underwater?"

Irida *chuckles* "I have a tail while submerged, but despite the scales, I'm a mammal. So breathing underwater won't do-"

Talia "Like dolphins? They only hold their breath, right?"

Irida "Just like them; all aquatic mammals have that in common. You're interested in biology?"

Talia "It's one of my favorite subjects! My grades might be even good enough to go study it. Ugh. I need to decide on the major, soon."

Irida "Ah, I can recommend biology. Though I'm quite biased, being a marine biologist myself."

Talia "Oh my watcher, that's so cool! Do you work in some fancy laboratory?? I've only been in our school's lab, and it's crappy."

Irida "If you wish to see it yourself, my lab happens to be in that trailer."

[n0tamused]

Albedo Headcanons

A/n: Since I don't have much to post rn, I decided to go back to some of my old headcanons that I didn't publish and expand on them. These ones are all the way back from 2022 even, but I'm still happy with my portrayal of Albedo lol. Hope you all enjoy them too! I did work on these a little more, but I didn't take in consideration all the new events with Albedo after 2022. Keep that in mind.

Contents: General platonic and romantic headcanons, Albedo x GN!Reader, fluff, dash of angst if you squint really hard, self indulgent, possible grammar mistakes

General headcanons:

- Albedo is not a person who really indulges much, or at all, in friendships and relationships. He can understand the appeal, but he simply does not care as much as an average individual. He has his work to get to and his research to keep going, and the continuously taxing process of keeping relationships in general are tiring for him

- He prefers his solitude much more than any other company. He may not be in love with people much, but he is in love with the trees, the branches, the snow falling and the frozen lakes of Dragonspine - every new day means a new love for him, and he cannot wait to do his homework on anything and everything, even things he understands fully now. One thing you can equate this love of his to is the snow of Dragonspine itself, countless snowflakes hugging the lands, buried deep in crevices and cracks, trying to get to the center of the world.

- Since he has researched so much, even the smallest of new discoveries are very exciting for him, it’s those small joys that show his inner being through the smile that lights his eyes and makes the corners of them crinkle.

- Due to his drawn back nature, and his origins, he isn't so well met with emotions, so those are one of his many interests and curiosities.  He is well mannered, he knows how to maneuver a situation, but when he looks back at it, he can't help but feel distant and confused - why did they get so excited over such a small thing? Why did she blush so easily? Why did that boy get so scared by some wind? Why did he find himself observing the contours of someone’s face when he didn’t know them? Why did he wish to sketch them?..etc 

- He doesn't think he feels sorrow/regret like the others, he isn't like the others that much is certain. Sometimes when he is alone in some comfortable space he will just stare somewhere and wonder.... how would have he turned out if he just...felt more.. What does true happiness without limitations feel like? What is freedom? Does it come without regrets? In those moments he understands what sadness is. All these thoughts make him feel so heavy, his chest is heavy and tight and his heart feels lonely. At times he thinks what would happen if one of his close co workers were to suffer an injury or quit their work for greener pastures, the field of alchemy certainly wasn’t any easy one for everyone. He knows he’d miss their presence.

- There are many more complex questions that plague him late at nights, only to shrug them off like a coat in the morning in favor of his Alchemist coat 

- This all being said, getting close to him is more on the difficult side. Unless you are willing to pull a little more work than him and frequently check in, he simply wouldn't know how to act. He does his best where he sees he can, though. He isn’t emotionless, just a bit clueless.

 - He would gladly help you, and guide you in the field of Alchemy in case you are curious about it, although he would much rather point you in the direction of a "starter mentor" first, before he offers himself as a mentor. It's not that he's underestimating you, but he feels as if giving you a good, solid start with a teacher of an "average" Alchemist would be a much easier way into the field of alchemy. In a way, you could say he’s underestimating himself in handing you the knowledge he has in a way you’ll understand. 

- Klee is one person he feels most close to. Sucrose is a capable lady, smart and close to Albedo, but Klee is someone who simply touches Albedo's heart in more ways than one. He wishes to keep her close and protect her, she feels familiar to him and gives him more sense of grounding to this world even if the responsibility of taking care of her wasn’t something he initially took on by choice

- That being mentioned he definitely has great patience with her, and slowly, even if she is not really able to understand, she is teaching him to feel

Romantic:

- Everyone knows the great Alchemist is also a great artist - everyone who has gazed upon his works would say so with 100 percent certainty paired with a couple more flattering words. Yet Albedo would shrug those compliments off and politely counter their words; a simple thank you does it

- He does not really see much of sentiment in those pieces of artwork as much as he does in the art he did of you

- Those are his favorite pieces. He loves to capture every detail of you whenever he can - the way your nose scrunches, the way your brow quirks, the way you lay down after a long day, the way the wind blows through your hair, the way your hands are after having them soaked in water for too long or when they’re cold..

- He is still quite reluctant about initiating contact, especially the physical one due to his lack of proper experience on the topic. Most information he has was read from books or heard from his fellow Knights, but none worth mentioning or trying in practice in interactions with you

- So it takes much, much for him to warm up to the ideas, you will have to initiate things slowly, so he can warm up to those touches initiated by you as well but he does his own part in reciprocating and returning those small affections

- The best ways of bonding together is babysitting Klee honestly; drawing, searching nature for anything of interest..etc. So that being said his love languages are quality time, after that it would be acts of service and after that words of affirmation. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[amethystarachnid]

Please, please, I need to ask you for a part 2 of Snowy Love now... they had a little boy, an exact copy of Tony, and of course, his name is Anthony Edward Stark Jr. 🥰 and just as Tony promised, they are going back to the same place with their baby boy now 🥰 Tony is the best hubs and dad, always so soft and protective... one night, as they observe their beautiful baby boy sleeping so peacefully, Tony will tell her that he wants another one, and they decide to have another baby 🥰 if you want you can spicy things up too, thank you 😘

I love the idea of Tony and reader having a special place like this to go 🥰

SNOWY LOVE - part II

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance fluff, a tiny tiny spicy scene

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: short fanfic

ᯓ★ Part I

ᯓ★ Word count: 8k

ᯓ★ Summary: after your son, Edward, comes in the world your little Alps getaway get more interesting, so interesting that you and Tony decide you wouldn't mind another baby Stark.

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of birth, a little spicy scene

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The weeks leading up to your due date are a mix of excitement, nerves, and more than a few late-night talks about the baby’s name. You’d both been bouncing ideas around since the second trimester, but nothing had fully clicked for both of you. Then, one evening, Tony hit you with a proposition that he was sure would be a “slam dunk.”

“What if…” Tony begins, giving you his best salesman smile, “we make him a junior?”

You nearly choke on the sip of water you’re drinking. “Junior?”

“Think about it.” He leans forward, eyebrows raised, already envisioning it. “Anthony Edward Stark Junior. Our little legacy. Our kid gets a great name, I get a mini-me, and you get to say, ‘I’m married to Tony Stark Senior.’ Everybody wins.”

You stare at him, trying to process. “Tony, I don’t know… A junior? I feel like it’s setting up some pretty big expectations.”

He tilts his head, giving you a puppy-dog look. “What if we just call him Edward, though? Classic, timeless, elegant… just like his mom.”

You narrow your eyes, both charmed and trying not to roll your eyes. “You’re really playing the flattery angle here.”

Tony grins. “Is it working?”

“Fine,” you sigh with a smirk. “But I’m calling him Edward. You don’t get to sneak in any nicknames like ‘Tiny Tony’ or ‘Starky’ or anything weird, got it?”

He beams. “Deal. Edward it is.”

On the big day, when the contractions start, Tony morphs into a chaotic mix of superhero and headless chicken. The moment you tell him, he’s grabbing his jacket, his tablet, and two power banks (just in case, he insists). He practically hustles you out the door, giving the driver a set of instructions that makes it sound like you’re about to pull off an international heist rather than have a baby.

In the delivery room, Tony is trying his best to be calm and supportive, but his nerves start showing the minute you go into active labor.

“Alright, babe, you’ve got this,” he says, squeezing your hand. “Just… breathe! And maybe, uh, try some meditation?”

You give him a look that could melt his Iron Man suit. “Oh, really? Breathe? How insightful. Maybe I should just think calming thoughts while this tiny human makes his dramatic entrance, Tony.”

He swallows, wide-eyed, clearly realizing he’s treading dangerous ground. “Right. Just, you know, ignore me. I’m here. Quietly. Totally quiet.”

But every time a contraction hits, he’s there, full of commentary and ideas, most of which involve technology he wishes he could be using. “You know, I could invent a pressure reducer—some kind of… I don’t know, anti-gravity cradle? That way, all the pressure is off you—”

“Tony!” you gasp between contractions, managing to laugh despite the pain. “Focus, please. No inventions right now.”

Finally, after what feels like hours of huffing, puffing, and a whole range of Tony’s attempts at encouragement (that occasionally backfire), you hear the first cries of your son. The room goes still, and Tony’s hand grips yours a little tighter, his face softening with awe as the doctor holds up your baby boy, all squirmy and red-faced.

You’re exhausted but overwhelmed with joy as they place him on your chest. The little guy blinks up at you, and as you look down, you’re struck by how much he already looks like his dad. From the dark hair to the tiny furrow in his brow, he’s unmistakably Tony’s son.

Tony’s voice breaks the silence, soft and filled with wonder. “Oh, look at him… He’s perfect.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, stroking your finger over his tiny hand. “He really is.”

After a few moments, Tony leans over, whispering so only you and the baby can hear. “Hey, Edward. Welcome to the team, little guy.”

You laugh softly, glancing up at Tony with a smirk. “I suppose we’ll let you keep the ‘Anthony Edward Junior’ for the birth certificate.”

Tony grins, looking a little misty-eyed. “And we’ll call him Edward. Just like we said.”

The baby shifts in your arms, yawning with a seriousness that makes you and Tony both laugh. “Look at that,” Tony says, chuckling, “he’s already judging us. He’s got the Stark stare down.”

“Oh, he’s definitely yours,” you say, tracing his tiny nose. “There’s no denying it.”

As the nurse takes Edward for his check-up, Tony stays close, keeping one eye on the baby and one on you, as if he can’t decide who needs more protection. At one point, Edward lets out a small cry, and Tony practically jumps out of his seat, only to be gently waved back by the nurse.

“Alright, alright, kiddo’s tough,” Tony mutters to himself, trying to act casual. Then, under his breath, he adds, “I’d better teach him about building armor for all life’s tough moments. Soon as he can walk.”

You smile, shaking your head. “Not just yet, Tony.”

“Fine. Maybe in a few years.” He smiles down at you, giving your hand a soft squeeze. “You did amazing, by the way. Both of you.”

Later, as you’re resting in the quiet room, Edward nestled in your arms, Tony sits by your side, his gaze fixed on the little bundle between you. He reaches over, brushing a hand over Edward’s dark hair.

“I have a feeling this little guy’s going to keep us on our toes,” he says, his voice warm with anticipation.

You chuckle. “I think he’s going to be just like his dad. Confident, a little dramatic, always ready for an adventure.”

Tony grins. “Then he’s got some pretty big shoes to fill. But don’t worry, kid.” He leans close to Edward, whispering, “You’ve got a head start. You’ve got the best mom in the world.”

Your heart swells, and you glance over at Tony, feeling overwhelmed with love and gratitude. “And the best dad.”

He reaches for your hand, holding it tight. “Here’s to the new adventure, Mrs. Stark. Alps trips, tiny skis, and all.”

And as Edward settles back down in your arms, his little hand wrapped around Tony’s pinky, you know you wouldn’t trade this moment, this family, for anything in the world.

November brings a fresh blanket of snow over the Alps, and true to his word, Tony whisks you and baby Edward back to the chalet for your first family trip as a trio. But this time, Tony has leveled up his promise a little bit.

“Alright, brace yourself,” he says with a smirk as the three of you arrive at the chalet’s entrance.

“Tony, what did you do?” you ask, eyeing him with playful suspicion.

He opens the door with a flourish. “Meet the new and improved chalet,” he declares as you step inside and notice everything from the original cozy stone walls to the carved wooden beams… looking the exact same as they had before. It’s still the chalet you remember, but now, as you glance around, you notice subtle but elegant upgrades: a sleeker kitchen, plush couches, perfectly arranged warm lighting, and something tells you Tony’s fingerprints are on each and every detail.

“JARVIS?” you call out, testing your theory.

“Yes, Mrs. Stark,” JARVIS replies smoothly, his voice filling the room. “I am here to assist you with anything you need during your stay.”

You look at Tony, arching an eyebrow. “You put JARVIS in the chalet?”

Tony grins. “What’s a chalet without a little Stark-level luxury? Besides, he’s got the heat, lights, baby-monitoring, and full security on lock. Plus, the moment Edward gets fussy, he’s going to give us gentle background white noise. Like having a top-notch babysitter that we don’t have to pay.”

You laugh, holding baby Edward closer to you. “Only you would find a way to make a rustic mountain getaway smart-tech enabled.”

Edward blinks up at the sound of JARVIS, his big brown eyes going wide. Tony leans over, stroking Edward’s tiny head with a grin. “See, kiddo? We’ve got all the comforts of home—just with a better view.”

Of course, while the chalet is all set up and the vacation is planned to perfection, the reality of bringing a seven-month-old to the Alps sets in quickly. For one thing, Edward seems endlessly fascinated with everything in sight—the crackling fire, the pinecone decorations, the view outside—but especially, he loves testing his new babbling skills at full volume whenever you’re trying to enjoy a quiet moment by the fireplace. And when it comes time to bundle him up in his little winter gear for some snow time, things get complicated fast.

Tony holds up the puffy snowsuit, squinting at it like it’s a complex piece of machinery. “Okay, so we just… put him in here? I don’t think he’ll fit. Are you sure this is his size?”

You stifle a laugh. “Yes, Tony. Babies’ clothes just tend to look a little oversized. Trust me, he’ll fit.”

After a few minutes of wrestling with the baby-sized marshmallow suit, Edward is all bundled up, looking a little like a tiny, slightly disgruntled snowman, his cheeks poking out from the snug hood.

“Well, look at you!” Tony coos, chuckling as he lifts Edward up. “You’re ready to brave Everest.” He leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “Just don’t expect us to climb it anytime soon, okay?”

You take a few steps outside, holding Edward’s tiny mittened hand, and Tony follows with a knowing smile. “Alright, team, it’s time to introduce the little guy to snow. First snowball?” he asks, already forming a little powdery ball.

“Nothing too rough, Stark,” you say with a laugh. But before you know it, Tony tosses a soft, fluffy snowball—more like a gentle powder puff—onto Edward’s lap.

Edward stares at the snowball with a very serious expression, reaching out to poke at it. His face lights up as his tiny mitten sinks into the snow, and he looks up at you, babbling excitedly.

“See?” Tony says, grinning. “Total natural. And he hasn’t even tried sledding yet!”

You and Tony spend the morning showing Edward the snow-covered world, taking him out to a little sled where he sits on your lap, squealing in delight as Tony gently pulls the sled along. Every now and then, he looks up at you with pure joy, and your heart just melts.

Later that evening, after you’ve managed to get Edward fed and snuggled into bed (which was an ordeal in itself, as he spent half the time grabbing at your hair and Tony’s glasses), you sit by the fireplace, wrapped in one of the soft blankets Tony stocked up on. Tony finally joins you after setting up a baby monitor with JARVIS’s help, plopping down on the couch beside you with a tired but satisfied smile.

He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. “Well, we survived the first day. Barely.”

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s different with a baby, isn’t it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he says, looking over at the baby monitor and grinning as he sees Edward sleeping peacefully. “But it’s kind of the best thing ever.”

You smile, thinking of all the little moments from the day—Edward’s excitement over the snow, his curious little face peeking out from the snowsuit, the way he’d babbled at the mountains like he was having a full conversation with them. “It really is.”

Tony’s hand drifts to your shoulder, and he kisses the top of your head. “Remember what I promised you? Yearly trips to the Alps, no matter what.”

You close your eyes, soaking in the warmth and the soft crackling of the fire. “And you’ve outdone yourself, Mr. Stark. This chalet is perfect.”

“Well, only the best for you and our little snow adventurer.” He chuckles, his eyes soft as he looks at you. “I can’t wait until he’s old enough to really take on the slopes. I’ll teach him everything I know.”

You raise an eyebrow, laughing. “Oh, so he’ll be an expert on the bunny slopes?”

Tony gasps in mock offense. “Excuse me! I did those bunny slopes with you for safety reasons.”

You grin, nudging him playfully. “Sure, sure.”

For the rest of the night, you both fall into comfortable conversation, talking about your favorite parts of the trip and laughing over Edward’s tiny adventures of the day. And even though there’s a new level of exhaustion that comes with traveling as parents, there’s also a new kind of joy, too—the kind that fills your heart in ways you never could have imagined.

As you settle in beside Tony, his arm around you and the fire casting warm shadows across the room, you feel it—the deep contentment of being right where you’re meant to be. You have each other, a beautiful family, and all the memories waiting to be made on snowy Alps trips just like this one.

The next morning, you and Tony have a grand plan: to get a family photo in the snow with the Alps as a backdrop. You picture a sweet little scene—Edward bundled up, the mountains glistening in the background, and you and Tony looking like that perfect, smiling family on a holiday card. But getting a baby and two semi-coordinated adults to cooperate for a “simple” photo quickly becomes its own comedy of errors.

First, there’s the task of getting Edward back into his snowsuit, which he’s now decided he hates. He’s wiggling, giggling, and pulling at the hood the entire time, giving Tony a run for his money as he tries to zip up the tiny suit.

“Alright, Edward, c’mon,” Tony pleads, one hand struggling with the zipper while Edward bats at his dad’s face with a mittened hand. “Just work with me here, buddy. Think of the memories.”

Edward lets out a little squeal that sounds suspiciously like laughter, and you can’t help but giggle as Tony finally manages to get the zipper all the way up.

“There we go!” Tony cheers, looking immensely proud, like he’s just invented a new suit himself.

With the baby finally bundled, you two tackle the next challenge: finding a spot outside where the snow isn’t too deep. Tony scouts ahead, and with JARVIS chiming in via earpiece to give him topographical tips, you both make your way to the perfect spot, nestled near a tall pine tree with a breathtaking view of the snow-capped Alps in the background.

Tony positions his phone on a nearby rock, sets the timer, and then hurries back to join you and Edward. But as he leans in, trying to hold Edward steady, his hand slips, and suddenly he’s teetering backward, flailing as he tries to catch his balance on the icy snow.

“Oh no—!” you gasp, holding Edward securely as Tony lets out a string of surprised curses and lands straight in a snowbank, his legs flopping over the edge like a giant starfish.

The phone’s camera timer goes off with a cheery click. The result? A perfectly crisp shot of you holding Edward, smiling serenely while Tony lies in the background, half-buried in snow, looking thoroughly betrayed by gravity.

You’re laughing so hard that Edward starts to giggle too, a bubbly little laugh that only makes the whole situation even funnier. Tony sits up, looking bemused but amused, his face pink from the cold. “Okay, that’s… that’s one for the family album.”

You grin, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “It’s a classic already.”

Not one to let the snow get the best of him, Tony gets up with determination, brushing the snow off with dramatic flair. “Alright, no one messes with a Stark like that. We’re getting this shot, and it’s going to be flawless.”

On attempt number two, Tony positions the phone on a steadier surface, checks the snow for any hidden ice, and rejoins you, looping an arm around your shoulder as you all face the camera with bright smiles.

Just as the timer ticks down, Edward reaches up, grabbing Tony’s nose with an impressive grip for a seven-month-old. The photo snaps just as Tony lets out a squawk of surprise, his expression halfway between amusement and “I’ve been captured by my own child.” The result is another photo that, while completely unscripted, somehow captures everything you love about this little family adventure.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” Tony laughs, taking a look at the new photo. “Apparently, we’re destined for candid shots only.”

You shrug, kissing Edward’s chubby little cheek. “Maybe that’s even better. We’re a chaotic family, Tony—why pretend otherwise?”

As you all make your way back to the chalet, Tony leans in, whispering, “Just so you know, I’m sending both of those pictures to Happy for our holiday card options. Let him decide which one says ‘Stark Family Adventure’ the best.”

Later, cozy by the fire with Edward dozing in his crib nearby, you and Tony swipe through the day’s photos, laughing over each and every attempt. The best shots—the ones where you’re all genuinely laughing, snow in your hair and mismatched expressions—are far from perfect, but they’re filled with real joy. And as you snuggle close, you know this will be the kind of memory you’ll treasure forever, a perfectly imperfect adventure in the Alps with the people you love most.

Three years later, you’re back at the chalet for your annual Alps getaway, and it’s no surprise that Edward is now an unstoppable force. At three years old, he’s practically a mirror image of Tony—a toddler with boundless energy, unfiltered curiosity, and a confidence level that has you equal parts impressed and on high alert.

“Okay, buddy,” Tony says, crouching down to zip up Edward’s puffy little parka. “Remember the rules for today. One, no climbing any trees. Two, no running past—”

“Got it!” Edward chirps, promptly bouncing up and bolting out the door, his tiny boots pattering across the snow.

You laugh, throwing Tony a knowing look as he sighs. “He’s got the Stark attention span, too,” you say.

Tony smirks. “Only the best traits, right?”

Outside, Edward has already discovered a stick and is poking it into the snow, chattering away to himself like he’s narrating his own discovery channel show. As you watch, he picks up a pine cone and waves it over his head like it’s a prized artifact.

“Look, Daddy!” he calls, holding up the pine cone with immense pride. “I found treasure!”

Tony, trying to keep up with Edward’s imaginative pace, kneels beside him, inspecting the pine cone with all the gravitas of a museum curator. “Ah, yes. A rare alpine pine cone. I’d say that’s worth at least ten points.”

“Ten points!” Edward exclaims, his face lighting up with joy.

You watch the two of them, warmth filling your chest. They’re a perfectly matched pair: Tony, the ever-encouraging, slightly mischievous dad, and Edward, who treats every rock, snowflake, and icicle as if it’s the most magical thing he’s ever seen.

Before long, Tony has convinced Edward that a snowball fight is in order. The two of them square off, and it’s a comical sight—Tony with his practiced aim and Edward with his… well, enthusiastic but chaotic form of defense, which mostly involves flinging snow in every possible direction.

You try to sit back and watch, but before you know it, Edward has roped you in. “Mommy! Help me!” he calls, his tiny face flushed with excitement.

“Oh, you’re going down, Stark!” you call, laughing as you crouch beside Edward, forming snowballs as fast as he can toss them.

Tony’s attempts at pretending to be defeated are the funniest part of it all. He stumbles around dramatically, flinging snow in the air and making ridiculous sound effects every time Edward hits him with a snowball. Edward laughs so hard he nearly tumbles backward, and his laughter is contagious, echoing through the snowy landscape around you.

After an hour of snowy chaos, you all retreat back inside, red-cheeked and chilled but perfectly happy. You wrap Edward in a cozy blanket, and he nestles up beside you on the couch, his head resting against your shoulder, still babbling about his “great snow victory.”

Tony sits on your other side, wrapping an arm around you both. “You think he’s going to be this wild every year?”

You smile, brushing a stray bit of snow out of Edward’s hair. “If he’s anything like you? Definitely.”

Tony laughs, his eyes softening as he looks down at Edward, who’s drifting off in the comfort of your arms. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And in that moment, in the warmth of the chalet with your little family bundled together, you can’t imagine a better tradition. The mountains, the snow, and these beautiful, hilarious memories—they’re your family’s own perfect kind of magic.

After a long day of helping a highly enthusiastic but wildly unpredictable Edward navigate the beginner slopes, you and Tony are both thoroughly exhausted. Getting Edward to sleep has been an adventure on its own—he insisted on wearing his snow hat to bed, hugging his newfound pine cone “treasure” like a beloved teddy bear. But at last, he’s tucked under the cozy blankets, his soft snores filling the room as he finally rests.

You and Tony stand in the doorway, watching him with a mix of adoration and relief. Tony wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both gaze at your son.

“Out like a light,” Tony murmurs softly, a trace of awe in his voice. “Gotta hand it to the Alps—only place that can actually wear this little guy out.”

You chuckle, leaning back into his embrace. “Only took skiing lessons, a snowball fight, and an epic bedtime negotiation to get him here.”

Tony smirks. “Can you blame him? Kid knows what he wants.” He drops a light kiss on your shoulder, his voice turning playfully suggestive. “Wonder where he gets that from?”

You roll your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “Pretty sure that’s all you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony pulls you closer, pressing his lips near your ear. “I think you underestimate just how… persuasive you can be, Mrs. Stark.”

You laugh softly, feeling the blush rise in your cheeks as Tony’s hands slip around your waist. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

He feigns innocence. “Just stating the facts. And for the record, I’m pretty persuasive too. I mean, look at this kid.” He nods toward Edward’s sleeping form. “That’s a whole collaboration project right there. A masterpiece, if I do say so myself.”

You shake your head, trying to keep a straight face. But then, as you glance back at Edward, all tucked up in his little cocoon of blankets, the thought slips out of you before you can catch it: “I wouldn’t mind adding to the… collection.”

Tony goes still, and you feel his arms tighten around you, the grin in his voice unmistakable. “Oh, really?”

You blush, nudging him with your elbow, but you don’t deny it. “Maybe…”

“Maybe, she says,” he murmurs, amusement dancing in his tone as he steps back, just enough to turn you around and face him. His eyes are sparkling with a familiar mischief, and you know exactly where this is going. “Well, Mrs. Stark, I don’t believe in wasting time.”

Without another word, he scoops you up in his arms, carrying you down the hall to your room with a determined grin. He pauses only to nudge the door shut with his foot and click the lock, just in case Edward decides to wander in on his way to a midnight snack.

The next morning, you both shuffle into the kitchen, happily disheveled but somewhat groggy after last night’s, uh, activities. Tony pours you both coffee while you tackle the task of assembling breakfast for the family, the scent of coffee filling the chalet. Just as you finish plating the pancakes, you hear the pitter-patter of small feet racing down the hall.

Edward appears in the doorway, all tousled bedhead and wide, curious eyes. He grins, hopping up into his chair with more energy than either of you can muster, and starts digging into his breakfast.

“Did you sleep well, buddy?” you ask, trying to keep the knowing smile off your face as Tony gives you a wink over his coffee mug.

“Yeah, I did,” Edward says, then tilts his head in thought. “Except for the weird noises.”

Your fork pauses mid-air. Tony freezes, eyebrows raising slightly as he trades a look with you.

“Oh? What kind of noises, honey?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light and innocent.

Edward scrunches his face, deep in toddler-level contemplation. “I dunno… kind of like ‘thump thump’ and then like… a squeaky sound?” He shrugs, perfectly unaware of the red hue creeping up both your faces. “I thought it was maybe animals outside. Like a bear!”

Tony chokes a little on his coffee, quickly composing himself as he nods, very seriously. “You know what? That’s exactly what it was. Just some… mountain animals. Bears, probably. Or… squirrels. Could’ve been squirrels too, I’d bet.”

Edward looks skeptical. “Squirrels? Squirrels go ‘squeak squeak’?”

You nod, putting on your best parental poker face. “Oh, absolutely. These Alps squirrels are, uh, very vocal.”

“And super fast,” Tony adds, trying to keep a straight face. “They must’ve just been scurrying around outside.”

Satisfied with this explanation, Edward returns to his breakfast, the mystery solved in his mind. But Tony can’t help himself—he sneaks a hand over, giving your knee a quick squeeze and winking at you over his mug, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips as he whispers, “Squirrels, huh?”

You bite back a laugh, nudging him with your foot under the table. “Keep it up, Stark, and you’ll be explaining squirrel noises for years to come.”

And as Edward chatters away about his plans for another day of snowy adventures, you and Tony share a quiet smile, thinking about how this mountain hideaway has become even more special to your family—memories made in the snow, and, apparently, memories made with a little help from the “squirrels.”

It’s a crisp spring afternoon in New York, and you’re back at Stark Tower, watching Edward chase his toy cars around the living room with endless energy. You can’t help smiling as he zooms his favorite red race car across the floor, making all the appropriate “vroom” noises, blissfully unaware that his whole world is about to change. You’ve just returned from the doctor, and the news you have to share with Tony feels like a small, joyful secret waiting to burst.

After waiting for the right moment all afternoon, you find Tony tinkering in his workshop. He’s bent over some project, half of his attention on JARVIS narrating stock reports, but as soon as he sees you standing in the doorway, he brightens up and sets down his tools.

“Hey, gorgeous. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He smirks, reaching for your hand and pulling you close.

“Well, I thought you might want a break,” you say, feeling the excitement bubble in your chest. “I actually have… some pretty big news.”

“Oh?” His eyebrow arches, his interest clearly piqued as he looks at you with that familiar Stark sparkle. “Do tell.”

Taking a deep breath, you let the words tumble out. “Tony, I’m pregnant.”

For a split second, there’s only silence as he processes what you’ve said. And then his face lights up with a joy so pure it makes your heart swell.

“You’re serious?” he whispers, almost as if he can’t believe it.

You nod, your smile growing wider. “We’re having another baby, Tony.”

His response is immediate; he wraps you in his arms, pulling you close, and you feel the warmth of his kiss on your forehead as he lets out a small, breathless laugh. “Another baby… wow. I’m gonna have two little Starks running around?” He pulls back to look at you, his hands on your shoulders, his gaze soft and a little awed. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

“Well, thank you,” you laugh. “But this is all teamwork.”

“Oh, believe me,” he says, his expression growing playfully mischievous, “I remember the teamwork.”

You give him a light smack on the chest, rolling your eyes. “Focus, Stark. We have another little person to tell the news to, remember?”

Tony’s eyes widen, glancing toward the hallway where Edward’s little voice can be heard playing. “Oh, you mean the future big brother. How do you think he’ll take it?”

“Honestly?” You shrug. “No idea. But I think he’ll be excited… once he gets past any confusion.”

Tony grins, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of telling Edward. “Let’s do it.”

You both head to the living room, where Edward is still entirely focused on his toy car, making it zoom up the arm of the couch and fly through the air before landing it perfectly on the carpet. At three and a half years old, he’s the spitting image of his father: curious, energetic, and already a little charmer. When he sees you and Tony approaching, he stops mid-vroom, looking up with big, curious eyes.

“Hey, big guy,” Tony says, crouching down to Edward’s level. “Mommy and I have some special news for you.”

Edward’s eyes light up with interest. “News?”

You smile, sitting down next to him. “Yes, honey. You’re going to be a big brother.”

Edward’s little face scrunches up in confusion. “Big… brother?”

“Yes,” you say, glancing at Tony for support. “That means Mommy has a baby in her belly, and when it’s ready, you’ll have a little brother or sister.”

Edward’s eyes widen even more, and he stares at your stomach, looking half-confused, half-impressed. “Mommy ate a baby?”

Tony immediately bursts into laughter, and you can’t help but laugh too. You shake your head, gently taking Edward’s little hand and placing it on your belly. “No, honey, Mommy didn’t eat a baby. The baby is growing in here. And in a few months, you’re going to have a little sibling.”

Edward’s hand stays on your belly, his face absolutely serious as he contemplates this information. “So… the baby is just there?” He presses a bit, as if expecting to feel something.

Tony chimes in, his voice warm. “Yep. Just there, buddy. Growing a little more every day.”

Edward’s face slowly shifts from confusion to excitement, his smile growing as he processes what it means. “I’m going to have a baby to play with?”

“Exactly,” you say, brushing his hair out of his face. “You’re going to be a big brother. And that means you get to help take care of the baby, teach them new things, and, when they’re big enough, play together.”

Edward’s grin is so wide now that it practically glows. “I’m gonna be a big brother!” He pauses, squinting up at Tony. “Like… like how Daddy is in charge of everyone?”

Tony grins, clearly enjoying this line of thought. “Well, not exactly. You’ll be a big brother, which means you’ll get to show the baby how to do all the fun stuff, like building towers and—”

“And playing cars!” Edward finishes with enthusiasm. “I’m gonna teach them everything!”

You exchange a tender smile with Tony, watching as Edward begins to babble on about all the things he’ll show his little sibling, his excitement growing with each idea. You can see Tony’s eyes soften as he watches Edward, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Edward scrambles off the couch and stands right in front of your belly, crossing his arms with determination. “Baby, you have to come out soon so I can show you everything, okay?”

You chuckle, running a hand through his messy hair. “It’ll be a few more months, sweetheart, but the baby will hear you.”

Edward nods seriously, placing both hands on your stomach as if he’s already the most devoted big brother. “Okay, baby. Don’t worry. I’m gonna be here to teach you all the important stuff.”

Tony chuckles, pulling you close with an arm around your shoulder. “I think this baby has a pretty awesome big brother waiting for them.”

Edward looks up at both of you, his face filled with pure, innocent excitement. “Is the baby going to look like me?”

“Maybe!” you say, smiling at his curiosity. “Or maybe the baby will look like Daddy.”

“Or you!” Tony adds, squeezing your shoulder. “But one thing’s for sure, they’re going to be very lucky to have you as their big brother.”

Edward beams, his eyes bright with pride. Then he suddenly looks thoughtful. “Does that mean I get to be in charge of them? Like when they don’t want to play?”

You and Tony share a glance, stifling laughter. “Well, being a big brother means you’re a helper,” you say. “And that means being patient and kind.”

Edward thinks about this, nodding slowly. “I can do that,” he says seriously. “I’m going to be the best big brother ever.”

With that, he dashes back to his toy cars, already chatting to them about his new sibling as if they, too, need to know the news. You and Tony watch him with affection, sharing a moment of pure contentment.

“Not bad, huh?” Tony murmurs, his hand slipping around your waist as he pulls you close.

“Not bad at all,” you reply, leaning into him. “I think he’s going to be amazing.”

Tony chuckles, his gaze softening as he watches Edward play. “You know, if he’s anything like me, that baby is going to have a lot of excitement to look forward to.”

“Let’s just hope they balance each other out,” you laugh. “Otherwise, I think I’ll have my hands full.”

Tony gives you a teasing smile. “I think you already do, Mrs. Stark.”

The snow has blanketed the Italian Alps in a serene white hush, and you can’t help but smile as you look out the chalet window, feeling at peace even with the slight ache in your lower back. You’re nine months pregnant, and the baby could come any day now, but you wouldn’t have missed this trip for the world—not when it’s become such a special tradition for your family. You’d made sure Tony understood that before you left. Despite his protests, he finally agreed. But only under the condition that you’d “take it easy” and let him handle absolutely everything.

The chalet has become even more luxurious, thanks to Tony’s constant upgrades and “adjustments.” And though it’s outfitted with everything you could possibly need, from a medical suite to Jarvis-powered heating control, Tony is still on edge. You feel his watchful gaze follow you even as you wander just a few steps around the cozy living room. Even more surprising, Edward seems just as watchful, hovering nearby with a little furrowed brow that mimics his father’s.

“Mama, you need more water?” he asks for the third time in an hour, holding up a glass in his little mittened hand, though he looks a bit wobbly carrying it.

You smile, reaching down to take it. “Thank you, sweetie. You know, I think I’m good for now.”

He looks relieved, climbing up onto the couch beside you and cuddling into your side, immediately leaning down to put his face near your belly. It’s become his favorite spot, his “sister perch,” as he calls it. “Hi, baby Mia,” he whispers, his breath tickling your belly. “I got Mama water like you need. But you gotta wait a little bit, okay? ‘Cause you’re supposed to come after Christmas.”

You giggle, reaching down to ruffle his hair. “I think she’s listening, Eddie.”

Tony walks in from the kitchen with his own cup of coffee and grins, watching the two of you with unmistakable fondness. He’s got his eye on Edward, who’s started this protective routine almost as if on cue. You’ve noticed that ever since you arrived, Edward has been watching you with extra concern, following you room to room with a serious expression that makes him look adorably like a miniature version of Tony.

“Keeping an eye on Mama, huh?” Tony asks, dropping into the armchair beside you. He catches Edward’s eye and gives him a wink, which Edward dutifully returns with a nod.

“Daddy said I gotta be extra good and make sure you and Mia are okay,” Edward explains seriously, his hand now gently patting your belly. “Because if she comes early, it’s up to me to keep you safe too.”

You glance over at Tony, arching a brow. “So, you’ve enlisted a tiny helper?”

Tony smirks, leaning back in his chair with a mock-casual expression. “Well, let’s just say I figured another set of eyes wouldn’t hurt. Especially with someone as stubborn as you, Mrs. Stark, insisting on a nine-month-pregnant trip to the Alps.”

You roll your eyes, stifling a laugh. “Oh, so now I’m the stubborn one?”

He just grins, leaning forward to gently place his hand beside Edward’s, rubbing soothing circles across your belly. “Mia, just for the record, we’d prefer it if you’d wait a little longer to make your debut, okay? Let’s give Mommy a couple more quiet nights.”

Edward chimes in, “Yeah, you stay in there, Mia!” He lowers his voice to a loud whisper, as though she might be eavesdropping. “Daddy says it’s cozy and warm in there.”

Watching Tony and Edward both focused so intently on you and the baby makes you feel an overwhelming rush of affection. Tony may be playfully aloof at times, but you know how protective he is, and seeing Edward’s instinct to care for you just as much—it’s almost too much for your heart to handle.

Over the next few days, their vigilance only increases. Edward insists on helping with every little task, from picking up anything you drop to insisting you don’t leave the couch without him.

One afternoon, you’re sitting near the fire, Tony stretched out beside you with Edward nestled between you both. Edward has his hand on your belly, his little face serious as he leans over, “talking” to Mia about all the things he’ll show her once she’s born. You glance over at Tony, who’s pretending to read a book but has a smile on his face, clearly listening in.

“Yeah, and I’ll show you the big mountain,” Edward whispers to your belly. “And all the squirrels! But you gotta wait a little ‘cause you’re too tiny now.”

“Big brother’s got it all figured out, huh?” you murmur, looking over at Tony.

Tony gives a soft laugh. “He’s thorough, what can I say?”

When evening falls, you sit with Tony as Edward helps him prepare dinner in the kitchen. Tony’s pretending not to notice that Edward is sneaking more carrot slices than he’s putting in the salad, and you’re listening to their banter with a smile. Just as Tony finishes the final stir, he glances over at you, his eyes brightening.

“Alright, gorgeous, dinner’s served.” He and Edward bring everything over to the table, setting it up with an odd mix of finesse and excitement. Edward clambers into his chair, looking proudly at the setup.

As you all dig in, Edward turns to you, as serious as ever. “Mama, do you think Mia can eat with us next year?”

You chuckle, nodding. “I think she’ll be joining us for a lot of meals, honey. And you can help show her how everything works.”

“I’m good at showing stuff,” Edward says, sounding very grown-up. He stabs his fork into his food, then pauses to look at you. “Mommy, is Mia gonna need to wait for food like me?”

“Maybe at first,” you say, glancing at Tony as you add, “But she’ll have a big brother who can teach her all about snacks.”

Tony nods seriously, reaching over to give Edward a high-five. “That’s right, buddy. You’ll have to show her all the important stuff—especially the snacks.”

Edward beams, looking very pleased with himself. Dinner continues in this cozy, easy rhythm, filled with little jokes and laughter, until you find yourself feeling so relaxed you almost forget how close you are to your due date.

Late that night, after Edward is tucked in, you and Tony settle into bed, and he wraps his arms around you from behind, his hand resting instinctively on your belly. You sigh, leaning into his warmth, grateful for the peace and quiet.

“Think she’s getting cozy in there?” Tony murmurs, rubbing small circles on your belly.

“She seems content,” you whisper back, smiling. “But then again, so am I.”

A comfortable silence falls between you as Tony presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I can’t believe we’re going to have two little ones soon.”

You chuckle. “And you doubted our Alps trip.”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Hey, better safe than sorry. If I had my way, we’d be back in New York near the best hospital in the state.”

“Relax,” you say, lacing your fingers through his. “We’ve got everything we need right here.”

And as you lie there, cradled in Tony’s arms with the baby softly moving beneath your hand, you feel a deep, calm certainty—no matter where you are, as long as your family is by your side, everything will be exactly as it should be.

The evening is peaceful as you sit by the fireplace in the chalet, warming up after a full day spent playing in the snow. Tony’s got an arm around your shoulders, holding you close, while Edward is curled up on the rug in front of you, arranging his toys with focused concentration. You’re enjoying the rare calm, your hand resting on your belly, feeling the little nudges and kicks that Mia has made her daily ritual.

Suddenly, you feel a sharp, intense pressure low in your abdomen—a sensation that makes you gasp, your hand gripping Tony’s arm on instinct.

“Hey, you okay?” Tony looks at you, his brow furrowing in concern. Edward glances up too, his toy race car frozen mid-drive as he watches you with wide eyes.

“Um… I think…” Another wave hits you, stronger this time, making you tense. You can’t help but wince as a rush of pain makes it clear exactly what’s happening. “Tony, I think it’s time.”

“Time? Time for—oh!” Tony’s face goes through a series of rapid changes, from confusion to realization to full-blown panic. “Time! Okay, okay. That’s fine. We knew this was coming. I’ve got this.” But his eyes are wide, and his hands are already shaking as he reaches for his phone, practically tossing it out of his pocket in his haste.

Edward’s face scrunches up with worry. “Mama, are you okay? Is Mia coming now?”

You manage a reassuring smile for him, though it’s strained. “Yes, sweetheart. Mia’s on her way.”

Edward’s little mouth forms a perfect “O” as he stands there, frozen with his toy car clutched in his hand. “But she’s not supposed to come yet!” He looks to Tony for confirmation, a touch of panic in his voice. “Daddy, she’s coming early!”

“Uh, yeah, she sure is, buddy,” Tony mutters, trying to steady himself as he dials for the hospital. But when the call goes unanswered, he swears softly under his breath, his face paling. “Right. Nearest hospital it is. I’ve got this. Totally got this. Y/N, do you need a bag? Should I carry you?”

You laugh—well, as much as you can while clutching your belly. “Tony, just help me to the car. And grab the bag we packed in the bedroom. It’s all set.”

He nods, snapping into action as he wraps an arm around you, helping you up as gently as he can. Edward trails closely, his eyes fixed on you, looking like he’s ready to burst into tears. “Mama, is it going to hurt a lot?”

You nod, managing a comforting smile. “It’s going to be okay, Eddie. But yes, sometimes it does hurt a bit.”

With a nod, he straightens up, puffing out his little chest as if he’s trying to be brave for you. “I’ll protect you, Mama,” he says with a firmness that makes Tony’s mouth twitch, though he’s too frantic to fully appreciate the cuteness of it.

Tony helps you out to the car, keeping an arm firmly around you while Edward scrambles into his seat in the back, buckling himself with serious focus. He’s quiet as he watches Tony settle you in, his gaze darting between the two of you.

“Okay, everyone’s in. We’re good. We’re going to the hospital,” Tony announces, gripping the wheel and peeling out of the driveway with more speed than finesse.

The drive is quiet, save for Tony’s constant mutterings and reassurances. “Almost there, babe. Hang on. We’ve got this.”

Edward, still wide-eyed and silent, keeps glancing from Tony to you, his little hands clasped in his lap. Finally, he leans forward and says softly, “Daddy, is Mia going to come soon?”

Tony gives him a reassuring smile in the rearview mirror. “Pretty soon, buddy. But she’s going to be just fine, and so is Mommy.”

A few minutes later, the hospital comes into view. Tony whips into the parking lot, barely managing to park the car before he’s jumping out, rushing around to help you. The nurses spot the three of you, and within moments, you’re whisked into the maternity ward with Tony by your side, Edward clinging tightly to his other hand.

After a moment of hesitation, Tony looks at Edward, his expression softening. “Okay, Eddie, I think it’s time for you to hang out with the nurses while we bring Mia into the world, alright?”

Edward’s eyes are filled with worry as he looks up at you, his little brow furrowed. “Are you sure, Daddy? Maybe I should help.”

You reach out and give his hand a gentle squeeze, smiling through the pain. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll see you soon.”

Reluctantly, he nods and lets go, and a nurse leads him to the waiting room, promising him hot chocolate. Once he’s settled, you let yourself focus fully on the task at hand, breathing deeply as another wave of contractions hits.

Hours later, as dawn breaks over the mountains, you’re finally holding a tiny, pink-cheeked bundle in your arms. Mia is here, and she’s perfect, with soft wisps of dark hair and the tiniest little nose. Tony looks at her with an expression you haven’t seen before, a mixture of awe, wonder, and pure love.

“She’s… wow,” he murmurs, his voice choked. He reaches out, his finger stroking her soft cheek. “She’s here. She’s finally here.”

You nod, tears slipping down your cheeks as you watch him. “She is. And she’s beautiful.”

Just then, there’s a knock on the door, and a nurse steps in with Edward, who’s clutching a small, stuffed bear that he insists is for Mia. He’s a little hesitant, staring at the tiny bundle in your arms with wide, curious eyes.

“Eddie, come meet your sister,” Tony says, beckoning him over with a soft smile.

Edward steps forward slowly, his eyes fixed on Mia with fascination. He gently sets the bear down beside her and looks up at you, his voice barely above a whisper. “Is that really her?”

“Yes, sweetie,” you murmur, shifting Mia just enough so Edward can see her more clearly. “This is Mia. Your baby sister.”

Edward’s face lights up as he takes it in. He reaches out tentatively, gently touching her tiny hand. “Hi, Mia. I’m your big brother,” he whispers, looking awed. Then he glances up at you and Tony, his voice growing more confident. “I’ll take care of you, Mia. Just like I promised.”

Tony chuckles, ruffling Edward’s hair. “That’s right, bud. You’re the best big brother she could ask for.”

Once you’re back at the chalet, it’s as if the whole place is holding its breath for Mia. Even the snowfall outside seems to have softened, the sky a soft pink and blue haze as the sun rises over the Alps. Tony helps you get settled on the couch, Mia tucked warmly in your arms. Edward is right beside you, eyes wide and sparkling as he stares at his sister, still in awe of the tiny new family member.

“Mommy, can I…?” He trails off, looking up at you with hopeful eyes.

Tony clears his throat, immediately stepping in. “Can you what, buddy?”

Edward meets Tony’s gaze with a bold determination. “Can I hold her?”

Tony opens his mouth, looking unsure. It’s clear he’s struggling, torn between letting Edward’s eager big-brother heart grow and the sheer terror of seeing his three-year-old son anywhere near such a delicate little bundle. You give Tony’s hand a reassuring squeeze, then smile softly at Edward.

“Of course you can, sweetheart. We’ll help you,” you say, and Tony shoots you a look that is part admiration and part mild panic.

With care and precision that would make any parent proud, you and Tony arrange Edward on the large bed, surrounding him with a fortress of pillows. He sits cross-legged, his little hands clasped in his lap, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen him.

“Alright, Edward, remember—very, very gentle,” Tony instructs, his voice a little shaky as he settles Mia in Edward’s lap. The look on his face says he’s ready to leap in at any second.

Edward nods with the utmost sincerity, keeping his hands steady as he holds Mia, his tiny fingers brushing over her soft blanket. He gazes down at her with awe, and Mia, as if she already knows her brother, blinks up at him, her eyes round and calm.

“Hi, Mia,” he whispers, his voice almost reverent. “It’s me, Edward. I’m your big brother.”

Tony, standing a mere inch away, watches like a hawk, his eyes locked on Edward’s every move. If there were any way for him to be closer without actually holding Mia himself, he’d probably do it. You catch him clenching and unclenching his fists, clearly debating if he should interfere, even though Edward is doing perfectly well.

You chuckle softly, nudging Tony’s shoulder. “Breathe. He’s got this.”

“Breathe?” Tony whispers back, glancing at you like you’ve suggested he let Edward juggle china plates. “Babe, our son is three. Mia’s barely a week old. This is like… a recipe for chaos.”

“But look,” you murmur, smiling as you take in the sight before you.

Edward leans down slightly, his face inches from Mia’s, his little voice filled with wonder. “You’re so small, Mia. But I’ll help you get big. Just like me.”

You feel your heart melt, watching your son speak to Mia with the wisdom and warmth of someone far beyond his years. Mia, sensing something special, gives a little yawn, her face scrunching up before she settles comfortably in Edward’s lap.

Tony’s shoulders ease just a fraction, and he shakes his head with a small smile. “Alright, you’re right. He’s got this.”

After a few moments, Edward looks up at Tony with a mix of pride and excitement. “Daddy, she’s not crying!”

Tony laughs, reaching out to ruffle Edward’s hair. “She’s not crying because she likes you, buddy. You’re already doing an amazing job.”

Edward beams, sitting up a little taller. “Yeah, I think she does like me. I’ve been practicing, Daddy. With my teddy bear, remember?”

Tony chuckles, nodding. “All that practice paid off, didn’t it?”

Satisfied that Edward has everything under control, you settle back, letting yourself enjoy this peaceful moment. It’s incredible to see Tony’s eyes soften with such pride as he watches Edward. When Mia stretches a tiny hand and accidentally grabs one of Edward’s fingers, Edward lets out a little squeak of excitement.

“She’s so strong!” he says, looking up at Tony. “Look, Daddy! She’s already holding my finger!”

Tony’s grin widens, and he’s now fully invested, crouching beside the bed to get a better look. “She’s a Stark, all right. Strong from day one.”

You share a knowing smile with Tony. Somehow, it feels like the chalet, with its vintage wood and cozy, fire-lit rooms, has truly become your family’s haven. This yearly trip has become more than just a tradition—it’s a ritual of love and connection, a reminder of the life you and Tony have built together.

When Edward finally looks up, he gives Mia one last gentle hug before releasing her back into your arms. “Mommy, can I hold her again tomorrow?”

You smile, nodding. “Of course, Eddie. She’ll need all the big-brother cuddles she can get.”

“Deal,” he says with a grin, hugging his knees to his chest, his excitement making his little feet wiggle.

Later, when Edward’s sound asleep and Mia is curled up beside you, Tony wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The fire crackles softly, casting a warm glow around the room, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“So, another perfect day?” he murmurs.

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. “Perfect in every way.”

I love family man Tony so much you guys can't even understand

[just-horrible-things]

Spider understands pretty clearly. She understood the purpose of her training, she went along with it in the understanding that it was the easiest path, and she later observes the resulting effects in herself with a degree of almost academic interest.

Sometimes it's intensely frustrating, other times it's just a fact of life. To start with, before her escape, she views a lot of it with almost pride. Look how well she learned. Once she's free, she works very hard on erasing the visible tells. It's a struggle.

---

Chewtoy!Ariadne has a very limited understanding of conditioning. She knows you beat prisoners for behaviour you don't like, and you do it until they stop. Or die. And you can reward behaviour you do like but honestly how often does that happen.

She knows Riven "teaches" her the same way. She's aware of some of the most obvious things. Like how much she has learned to fear him. And her aversion to touch. And how afraid she is of disobeying. Most of the details she doesn't really grasp, or hasn't thought about. Like how strongly she's been taught to never explain herself or argue in her own favour.

She thinks she is pathetic for her compliance. And broken in some fundamental way. Everything he's taught her is both a mark of his ownership of her and a sign of weakness.

She has no grasp of what is going on once she's free and supposedly safe and all the conditioned and trauma responses don't just go away.

questions for conditioned characters

A) do they know what conditioning is? B) do they understand that they've been conditioned? C) how does this understanding, or lack thereof, affect their perception of themselves?

[bixels]

Just gonna have to wait and see, right? Just wait and see! Just gotta wait and see! Who knows, we'll just have to wait and see! It's anybody's guess, we'll just have to wait and see! The future is exciting, we just gotta wait and see!

[bookshelf-in-progress]

I love how a well-written romance is so often structured as a mystery. A person starts with a certain idea about another person, and over the course of the story, they uncover more evidence that gives them a fuller picture of who the other person truly is. They learn about layers to the personality and backstory that give the other person more depth. They learn how the other person's personality meshes with theirs. Even the third-act misunderstanding fits the mystery structure--it looks like they've uncovered the final secret to the other person's identity, which is that they're not the worthy person they seemed to be, but then discover that they misinterpreted that evidence, or the other person takes steps to apologize and repair the level of trust. When the mystery is resolved, they've reached a full understanding of each other and know they've found a partner they can trust their whole future to.

[casurlaub]

Cw: mentions of antisemitism/racism/fascism/Nazi mindset/violence phantasies...heavy topics in general

Well, Lindner (the finance minister, member of the FDP, neo-liberal party) tried to blackmail the government including Scholz. He (Lindner) and his party have been acting incredibly selfish for three years now, blocking laws and talking ill about the other two parties involved in the government, just pushing their own interests instead of doing politics that favour the people.

There's a lot wrong with Scholz and his SPD (labour party) and there's a lot to criticize about the Green Party which is also part of the government at the moment but from my point of view this is not on them.

And honestly, I'm afraid of the new elections. There have been elections in a few states in Eastern Germany recently and in every one of them the far right wing AfD got the most votes or second to most votes (and in surveys the AfD gets the second most votes in many more states, including Bavaria). Parts of the AfD have been declared extremely right wing by the German Verfassungsschutz (= intelligence service to protect the constitution?), the whole party is at least under observation. High-ranking AfD politicians have been known to take part in Neo-Nazi marches in the past, are using the same speech the SA used to (btw the guy I'm referring to is a former history teacher, so he knows what he is doing). They're talking about a Jewish World Conspiracy, deportation of millions of people (this happened where the original Wannsee conference had been held?), of letting foreigners in because it will aid the AfD and 'we can still kill them later' (paraphrased). It's dismissed because the leading figures of the the AfD on a federal level aren't so stupid to say things this awful this bluntly (although the things that have been said should be enough of a deal breaker) but there's connections to various people known for their far right/antisemitic/racist positions such as Phillip Stein, Götz Kubitschek, Jürgen Elsässer, really the list goes on? A few years ago some journalists uncovered that a third of the representants of the AfD in the Bundestag employ people who have been organised in far right organisations/forbidden organisations etc. it's not just one black sheep in a 'comservative party'. Yes, Björn Höcke (the SA speech guy/former history teacher) may be in Thüringen and not operate on a federal level, but guess what, he is close to Stephan Brandner who is very much part of the Bundestag and one of the party's spokespersons. Christian Lüth was one one of the party's spokespersons, and he was the one suggesting to gas immigrants to death after letting them in to push the AfD (in what he thought was a private conversation). He was fired (but he's back, working for an AfD representant!)...

What really scares me though is that the resistance from the other side is crumbling.

The established democratic parties still say they won't form a government with the AfD but Saxony's head of government just met up with the head of the AfD. Friedrich Merz (CDU, conservative party) who might become our new chancellor (I hope not!) used to say he and his party would form a Brandmauer (firewall) against the AfD. Now he claims to have never said such a thing. All of the established parties are drifting to the right (yes, also the labour party and the Green Party although not as much as the conservative party) and instead of addressing the real danger (but Germany has never had an issue with far right parties, right?) the CDU/CSU (conservative party) and the FDP (liberal party) have declared the Green Party the enemy (as have parts of the media). Funny thing, when, before this government took over it's been the CDU who has been in charge for sixteen years. We'll see how it plays out in the new elections.

The AfD is horrible but what is even more so is that the democratic parties don't stand together but are ruining each other just to try to save themselves (it doesn't work btw.. moving to the right doesn't gain you any new votes, people tend to vote for the 'original'). There's lies told about other parties (I mean... People tend to get things wrong, that just happens, it's part of the human experience, but that's not what I'm talking about).

What is left if we can not even agree to play by the basic rules? There's been talk about banning the AfD, so it would cease to exist, but it's not pushed... Who knows whether it would succeed, seeing as the two attempts of banning the far right NPD did not succeed, but at this point... Have we ever heard of the paradox of tolerance?

Oh I could go on, but I'll stop it right here, I've rambled for long enough. But yes, this is a shit show and my guess would be that both the SPD and the Green Party will pay for this.

Let's pause the conversation about the US elections for a sec and jump real quick to Germany.... what's going on with u lot? Why did Olaf Scholz decide to fire the finance minister right now?? Why would he do something that led to the collapse of the coalition (at least acc to the news), was there some major event that triggered this? Will trump winning influence your elections? Is there an actual chance for the AfD to come to power ??(u wouldn't think tht, given tht millions of ppl protested on the streets after they heard about the deportation plans, but idk)