#yet I lowkey love it

[lostghost0o0]

I caved and made a few outsiders ocs…. and I made a whole bunch of headcannons for one of them… so…..

Eduardo Mendez -

16

🇵🇷

greaser

Pansexual

golden retriever boy

ironically scared of dogs

Literally like the sweetest person once you get to know him

he dreams of being on broadway someday

oldest of three children

he has two younger siblings (Sofia & Camilo)

when they’re scared, they run to him for protection

he immediately wraps them up in his arms and tries to make them feel better

was born with a cleft lip

a BIG lovey-dovey guy

likes to listen to doo-wops(same)

his favorite is ‘I Only Have Eyes For You’ by The Flamingos

used to live in New York and was actually next door neighbors with Dallas

him and Dallas were childhood friends

when he met Dallas again in Tulsa he was so overjoyed

turns out Dallas kinda forgot about him

their friendship rekindled tho 👍

as kids, Dallas would actually stay over at his apartment a lot

him and Dallas were inseparable, they’d go everywhere together

he’d want to hold hands but Dal was such a stubborn kid, he always swatted his hand away

cried once because Dallas killed a bug that he named Gummy

they came up with a dance together and performed it in front of his family

the guy has never been in a relationship but he wants to be so badly

he loves sweet stuff, but not when he eats to much cuz then he gets nauseous

his family has a pet chicken that they named Gloria, he loves her very much

originally, his family was going to kill Gloria and cook her but he sobbed and screamed hysterically to the point that they just kept it

he loves cats and cats love him

actually has three cats, they have all tried to kill Gloria

their names are Niceboy, Calsetine, and Ponpon

he’s just naturally affectionate with friends, some people think he’s weird for it, but his friends are cool with it

except for Dallas and Steve, they get annoyed and Dal threatens to punch him if he even shows any affection with him

love language is touch and words of affirmation

is actually in a situationship with Angela Shepard

he is absolutely in LOVE with her, this guy would do ANYTHING for her

he low key wants to dominated by her(not sexually tho get ur head out of the gutter)

like he’s almost always thinking about her

in his eyes, she’s an angel(we all know she’s not)

before they even met, he would send anonymous love letters to her and end them with “Love, your secret admirer ♡︎“

no matter how much of a jerk she is, he will always see past it

Angela didn’t like him at first, was actually just gonna lead him on and then leave him in the dust

but he was just so sweet and loving, she had never met a guy so raw and kind like that before

he calls her Angie, Angel, muñeca, baby

he does get mad, he’s human

But when he’s angry, he’s ANGRY

if someone does something to a person he cares about, he’s out for blood

when Mark cut Angela’s hair off, he went out with Curly and Tim to beat the shit outta him

[P.S. please recommend me headcannons :)]

[laddertek]

etho said actually you _don't_ understand the intricacies of how tango is my boyfriend and bdubs is my ex

(and how tango and bdubs kiss too)

Scar: We went on that little adventure, you know! Etho: Yeah, yeah, we had our adventure, that's true, that's true. Scar: You disparaged your teammates. That's it, all right, no more spoilers. Etho: (laughs) Our team has -- our team has some weird dynamics this -- this season. Cleo: (overlapping) Really, Etho? Is there trouble in paradise? (pause) Who's third-wheeling with you, again? I can't remember. Etho: (laughs) Uhh. The -- Cleo: Genuinely can't remember. I know it's you and Bdubs. And...Tango? Tango. Tango. Etho: (loudly) Why -- Why is Tango the third wheel? Why -- why isn't Bdubs the third wheel? Cleo: Because it's you and Bdubs. I'm sorry. I understand how that relationship goes. Etho: (dissatisfied) Hmm.

[keikeichi123456]

zosan streamer au except theyre both faceless and both unknowing fans of each other’s online personas, kinda like a miraculous ladybug situation

zoro and sanji know each other irl and they HATE each other even though luffy is their mutual friend, they had terrible first impressions of each other and well, let’s just say some nasty things were said from both sides

meanwhile, sanji is a huge fan of zoro’s stream persona and zoros a huge fan of sanji’s stream persona

their fans want them both to collab, so they set up a collab using their online personalities and when they collab, their popularity skyrockets because of the shippers (of course)

sanji finds zoro’s online personality really fun to talk to and vice versa so they start getting closer and closer, eventually delving into just pure flirting

zoro eventually brings up the prospect of meeting irl cuz its obvious that theyre both into each other

sanji has a conundrum cuz he doesn’t known this man irl or what he even looks like

he knows that the man is kind, patient, and unassumingly funny. for some reason, behind the wall of online anonymity, sanjis able to open up about his past, his trauma, his inner turmoil, and his family. the stranger listens intently and somehow always find the right things to say. he finds himself falling in love with this stranger, this faceless man

he knows that falling in love shouldnt be this easy, this painless, but sanjis life had been nothing but pain and grit, maybe, just maybe, he can have something easy for once, something he doesnt need to claw, scream, and beg for

then, sanji and zoro finally arrange a meeting (more like a date) and see each other for the first time

they both freeze, zoro stares in shock and sanji stares in horror

of course things would never be that easy, he was a fool to ever think that things would go his way for once. of course the man that he fell in love with was the man that also hated him all along

it was fun while it lasted.

zoro wasnt even able to open his mouth before sanji ran, so fast that zoro had no way to follow him (no, it wasn’t cuz he got lost, sanji was just fast okay?!)

he tries his best to contact sanji but sanji is radio silent: absolutely no word from him, not even luffy knows where he is

zoro stops and thinks for the first time in a probably a decade, he talks to luffy, he talks to usopp and they all agree that the next best thing to do is to make a public video basically asking sanji to please text him back (it was luffys idea that usopp encouraged and zoro reluctantly follows along cuz well, luffy said it would work so it must)

they film a low-budget, low-quality video where zoro is just on his knees saying please please please over and over again, the description says “please call me curly lets talk 🥺👉🏼👈🏼”

(usopp wrote the description, luffy directed the video, if it was anyone else, zoro might have thought they were setting him up but he trusts them wholeheartedly)

it gets posted on his main channel and it goes viral cuz its so primally stupid and relatable, zoro basically exposes himself as the really popular faceless streamer but fans are NOT disappointed cuz the man is FINE AS HELL

it ends up on sanjis feed while hes in the middle of doomscrolling and crying to nami and robin and they all just see sanjis crush begging him for attention, they look at each other and look at the video again

nami, ever the voice of reason, basically forces sanji to text him at least. zoro made sanji happy and it would be a disservice to sanji if he just let that slip away without a fight

they talk it out, end up actually meeting face to face and they find that their chemistry is electric and sanji begins to hope again

in the end, they make a video together showing their faces and reveal their relationship to their fans and the shippers go wild

tldr

zosan: im falling in love with oomf???

[territorial-utopia]

Huzzah! It's birthday time! I'm slowly accumulating more and more things I like (latest additions this vest I made and a travel typewriter! Still need to fix the latter one though)

Sure has been a year.

[starmocha]

I DON'T KNOW WHERE THIS THOUGHT CAME FROM SORRY IN ADVANCE @ EVERYONE BUT ESPECIALLY THE RAFAYEL GIRLIES 😔😭

Rafayel ☆ Decorating Nursery

Rafayel has an artistic vision for his baby's nursery, and you are letting him have full control (since he also does not want you to exert yourself in your delicate condition despite your protests that you are fine)

Boy or girl, the nursery is getting painted in pink. Very soft, soothing colors all around from paint choice to decorations.

One wall will be a focal point, and he will paint a mural of Lemuria, a reminder of this baby's heritage. Lemuria still lives on in this baby.

He will decorate the nursery with mementos of you and him.

All of the plushies he won for you will be displayed proudly on shelves.

"They can watch over the baby as he or she sleeps," he explains while meticulously organizing them.

By the crib, on top of a long dresser, there will be a few more plushies and also the fish nightlight you have.

There is also a jar he has prepared filled with only seashells you both have collected on your daily walks during your pregnancy.

He wants to be able to someday tell stories to his child and let them know how loved they were before they were even born.

The shells also, in a way, symbolize these final intimate moments of just you and him. Soon, you both will have new company joining you on your walks and making memories together.

There is an undeniable, unspoken bittersweetness to this thought, but you both know the new memories as a family will be beautiful. Walking along the shore together, playing in the sand, letting the baby touch the water...all of these moments he wants to collect like the seashells you find together.

He has a custom music box, shaped like a clam, made that plays The Deep Sea

It will be like falling asleep under the cool, dark ocean in an underwater grotto with dreams of an ancient civilization from long forgotten tales.

When he is done painting and decorating, he is excited to show you every little details. He also wants you to be honest. Anything you don't like, he will change in a heartbeat.

There is nothing. It's all perfect, and you tell him so.

"Really?" He asks with a frown. "Are you sure? It's alright if there are things you don't like. I want you to be honest with me, cutie."

You promise him you are. He smiles, excited to show you the other new things in the room.

He shows you the nursing chair near a window, overlooking the sea. As he helps you sit down, you can hear the sounds of waves crashing on the shore. It feels so tranquil in here, you realize.

He kneels next to you, his sweet face resting on the arm rest as he smiles at your reaction.

"I want both you and the baby to feel at peace in here. I want it all perfect for my two cuties."

[flovoid]

WELCOME TO SAN-FREAKING-MYSHUNO CITIZENS ⚠️‼️

[lovesickeros]

☆ you sow; & thus you shall reap what you are owed

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, violence {☆} word count 0.8k

You are dying.

Gold melts into the dirt, bleeds into the very earth that you'd molded by your own hands – a familiarity you do not understand the source of – you know it to be true, yet you do not remember it as Teyvat does. It weeps, in turn, for the way you bleed upon it, the way your lungs strain for breath.

It is fury and sorrow and fear and hatred so raw that your mind buckles.

You will die.

"A dying godling and its judge, it's jury – it's executioners," The voice is hollow and cold, sweeps across your broken body like the first chill of winter, "Archons who saw themselves Gods, now brought to heel by their own hubris."

A cold hand upon your cheek, the brush of a thumb across your lip, the gentle caress of cold across your skin. You know her – you don't remember, you shouldn't recognize her but you do – and she knows you. The cold beckons and you follow, let her kindness settle in the hollow space of your chest. You want to speak, to cry and scream and rage, let the world burn around you in a fit of flames so hot even she cannot contain it – but she silences you, quiets the anger seeping into your blood, quiets Teyvat itself.

"Do not speak, little godling. Guide my hand," She is cold; her hands are not gentle, yet it is bliss compared to the callous, cruel hands that have shattered you. She is cruel and cold and brutal but she is love in the way she kisses the crown of your head. She is love in the way she is the bulwark between you and the world that has scorned you – she is fury in the way she brings them to their knees. "And I shall enact judgement most divine."

They will pray for forgiveness, and they shall find themselves wanting.

"It wasn't our fault!" They cry, but you cannot recognize the voice – it breaks and cracks like glass. "They were too human. How were we meant to know? We– we thought they were.."

Silence.

You watch your judge – the executioner, the blade that shall carve their sins into the very marrow of Teyvat, stand above you like death. As cold as winter and just as brutal. Your temple has been painted in the gold of your divine blood, and she shall complete the masterpiece with their own. The Archons shall become the grandest art in the world – this temple the canvas, their blood the paint and their bodies the palette. The cold that cuts sinew cradles you – it sings to you, whispers sweetly in your ear and carves bone from body in the same breath. The cold presses it's lips to your wrist and it cradles a heart within it's palm – judges them and finds them guilty.

It is her spear that rests between their ribs, her sword that dissects and her dagger that carves – the cold devours.

In the breadth of this divine sanctuary, the Archons dwindle. They become the pieces of a divine work of art, they bleed and bend and break upon her hands. She shakes the heavens and carves mortality into the bones of the divine – your word is Law, and you weave their deaths into the roots of Teyvat itself.

They shall know of their grand folly in every moment henceforth and longer still and they shall weep.

And as the curtain falls, as the world crumbles beneath fist and blade, she cradles your face between hands too cold – as gentle as a shard of ice between your ribs, as brutal as the kiss of gentle snowfall. The world buckles at the loss of six, but she alone does not allow it to break – you will have to mend the wounds of the world when you are well, but today you weep and Teyvat weeps with you.

And alone, the cold remains.

Stone has eroded, the wind has ceased, the flames have been extinguished, the storm has been silenced, the forests have gone quiet and the seas go still.

But the cold remains, bathed in gold.

It wraps you in thick furs, cradles you against the winter storm that brews beneath a veneer of composure. It brings you home – lets the world settle into a stillness and silence that inspires only dread and still she presses a kiss to your brow.

It is cold, but there has never been something so warm.

Where hands have broken you, she drapes you in furs, wipes away the thick gold that clings to your skin. She pieces you back together where you have been shattered, reshapes you where you have been bent – makes of you something new. Not a god and not a mortal but something wedged between them.

But you are yourself.

And you are where you belong.

They shall put you back together and you shall know only the worship worthy of the divine. They shall carve this world into your image, tear out and burn away the rot that festers.

All you need to do is say the word and they shall be your tools to make this world your own.

One word and those who wronged you shall burn, too.

Just one word. That's all it takes, and they shall take away your pain.

[frobby]

what is more homoerotic than the fact that rin and bon would have both literally died at birth if the other didn't exist

[notedchampagne]

babyface old man

[jade-len]

you know it's bad when i read svsss and tgcf, stories about just two guys falling in love and getting together, and think, "god i wish i were in between them."

gay little domestic cottage core life with binghe and qingqiu? please and thank you. being sandwiched by hua cheng and xie lian, two pretty men who are hundreds of years old? i am blushing, kicking my feet and giggling

and again, it's not even that i would want only one of them. like in both of the relationships, the two love each other too much to the point it'd feel wrong if they were separated! it wouldn't feel complete, so you gotta be with both of them!

but that's the thing; i just?? i feel so incredibly guilty whenever i think about being loved by these mxtx couples??? like it's so stupid but i feel like i'm intruding in on something and it's like, everyone else seems to just want them together only, not wanna be with them. like it's fuckin taboo or whatever

i feel like with any other character from any other media it'd be fine to simp for and write/read x readers of them, but when it comes to these books, it's off limits! no way, what are you, crazy? yes, yes i'm unhinged and desperately want their love and affection simultaneously. i want to be in a happy little poly relationship with these overpowered beautiful men with long hair.

i can't be the only guy or whoever to feel this way?? to wanna be kissed by these characters? sandwiched?? i have two hands for christ sake and they all look so happy together and im just like "lord i wanna be with them so much". someone tell me i'm not alone cmon <\3

[ki1ldeer]

Playing with god designs idk

[hayaku14]

we should let kaito be angrier. that's boy's been through a lot let him lash out, let him be mad, let him say and do things he's gonna regret, and let him heal in the ugliest process possible. and let him realize that he will be loved despite it all.

[aleybeh]

"Alive and well." The words ring in my ears.

oh my GOD please play soulsov like it's good for your health bc idk maybe it is

[mango-mya]

Woe, pride headcanons be upon ye

[thetomorrowshow]

we'll always have each other

trust auuuuu

oki so the other week, oasis and i were playing a dare-based card game with my family. she dared me to let her post something on my tumblr, and i accepted. she decided to post that "trust au jimmy is pregnant". i immediately began to get comments and asks about it. unfortunately, every time i started a post meaning to refute it, i instead doubled down.

this is the closest i can offer to pregnant jimmy. however he is pregnant in my heart <3

~

There's the Clash of the Stags.

And there's Alinar, sword in hand.

And there's the Crystal of Rivendell.

Where's Jimmy's favorite?

Oh, just over there.

Scott breathes out slowly through his nose, eyes turned up to the heavens as he picks out familiar constellations from among the clusters of stars.

Jimmy's favorite constellation is one that Scott had never heard of before, and as far as he knows, isn't considered a constellation by any modern societies. It makes a large, five-sided rectangle, far off from common elven constellations. Below it are two oddly large, bright stars, stars that Scott used to think of as the wishing stars.

Maybe that should be his next study project. Finding some record of that constellation, so maybe they can finally figure out what it represents.

It’s likely Oceanic in origin, considering Jimmy’s history, but there are very few books that expand upon Ocean history, and even fewer that are actually from past times—and most of those are unreadable by all but Lizzie and Jimmy. Still, maybe in Gem’s secret library there’s some kind of ancient constellation record. He ought to send her a message, see if she has time to research it with him—or maybe one of her students can take it on as a project.

"Hey, baby," a tired voice comes from behind him, pulling him from his thoughts. A thrill runs through Scott's veins at the sleep-rumbly sound of his husband's voice. "What're you doing up?"

Scott doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he points up to Alinar's Sword. "Do you think that Alinar's constellation is holding the Rune Sword, or his famous golden one?"

A bit of shuffling, and out of the corner of his eye, Scott sees Jimmy come up next to him, lean on the deck railing.

In the light of the giant moon (somehow always so much larger in the Codlands rather than in Rivendell) his face is illuminated, washed almost white. His bangs hang down, nearly to cover his eyes—not near as long as they've been in the past, not since Jimmy sheared off most of his hair last year—and he huffs, blowing them up and out of his face.

He's beautiful, from his casually messy golden hair to the plane of his nose, to the sparkling scars on his cheeks. He’s beautiful down to the heaviness of his eyelids, the impression of his pillow still pressed into his forehead.

Jimmy catches his eye, his lips quirking up.

"Hey," he says playfully, voice still all gravelly with sleep in that delightful way Scott loves. "What are you really thinking about?"

Scott frowns. "You didn't answer my question."

"I forgot what it was."

"Probably the golden sword," Scott muses out loud. "The Rune Sword was lost from knowledge. Unless the constellations were identified before the historic legends."

"Scott," Jimmy prods gently.

Scott sighs. He casts his eyes around, looking for something else to occupy himself.

"I don't like that you're in alliance discussions with Sausage," he says bluntly, eyes lighting on the far-off city walls, the border of Mythland just beyond. "He can't be trusted."

"I know how you feel," Jimmy says after a moment. "I think it's what's right for my empire right now. But if you really think it's a bad idea, I can reconsider and we can talk about it."

"I do," says Scott instantly. "I know Pearl says he's trustworthy now, but it doesn't change what he did. How his people treated yours. It isn't safe."

Jimmy wasn’t there. Scott’s never told him about it, either, the wounds still too raw, but that horrible meeting with Lizzie and Gem and Sausage still dwells in a dark corner of his mind. He recalls all too well Sausage’s taunts, his total disdain for the treatment of Jimmy’s body.

He cannot possibly imagine that the man actually intends to do good.

Scott glances at Jimmy, then again, to gauge his reaction. Jimmy nods slowly, scratches at his stubbly beard.

"Thanks. So what are you really thinking about?"

Jimmy's too perceptive for his own good. He’s just as good at faking sleep as Scott is, if not better—he'd probably noticed that Scott hadn't ever fallen asleep; that he'd laid there, awake, trying to bat off the thought that keeps plaguing his mind.

He'd probably noticed when Scott slipped out of bed, padding through the living room and the kitchen in the dark, to the back door, out onto the deck constructed over the wide canal.

They've been married for almost three years, and Scott has no clue how to ask this of Jimmy.

Mostly because they've been married for almost three years, and dated for a year before that, and Scott still doesn't know what his own answer is.

Jimmy already can tell that something is bothering him, though. Maybe he should just dive in headfirst.

Or dive headfirst into the canal, which almost sounds preferable to broaching the subject.

It has to be brought up sometime, and better Scott than his advisors. He wouldn’t put it past his council to corner Jimmy sooner or later.

"What are your thoughts on . . . on children?" he asks, slowly, as if the question has been pulled painfully from between his molars.

Jimmy shifts his weight on the railing, leaning a bit heavier on his elbows.

"Children," he says, a smile in his voice. "They're nice. Small. A bit loud, sometimes. What do you think?"

Scott snorts. "Yeah. They're . . . definitely small. And snotty. And adorable."

"And a huge responsibility," Jimmy adds.

"And a huge responsibility," Scott echoes.

There's a long moment of silence, then, as Scott turns his eyes back to the starry skies, to the brilliant moon.

The stars, in opposition to the moon, seem so far away here. Not like Rivendell, when they seem almost close enough to touch.

These tiny pinpricks in the sky barely appear to be real.

"Did you mean to ask me if I want to have kids?" Jimmy bursts out. "Like, I figured—"

"Yes," Scott cuts in.

"Right, right, but I didn't want to assume, so—um, yeah. . . . Do I want kids?" Jimmy taps his fingers on the railing. "Imagine our kids," he says, something fondly wonderstruck in his tone. "Offspring of a legendary elven hero and a demigod."

"Jimmy, if you hadn't noticed, we're not exactly equipped to have children together," Scott points out drily. "Unless there's something I don't know about demigods?"

"I—no, no, you're right—well, maybe there's a spell somewhere, we should—"

"Jimmy."

"I . . . I don't know."

Scott waits. His wings flutter slightly as a breeze shifts across them.

"Lizzie and Joel decided to not have kids," Jimmy says after a moment. "Like, ever."

"We aren't Lizzie and Joel."

"No. No, we aren't."

Scott sighs, just slightly. "My council has been . . . lightly nudging," he says. "I am quite young to be married, let alone have children, but I think my parents' early death and my supposed even earlier death scared them. They want the throne to be secure."

"Right, but we can't have kids. Does adoption work with elf succession? Have they ever had this problem?"

"I'm not the first gay ruler, darling. Usually it involves a third elf—a surrogate who can bear children. But—"

"Do you want kids, Scott?" Jimmy asks.

Scott falters.

Does he?

It's not that he doesn't, necessarily.

But. . . .

"Not . . . not right now, I don't think," Scott says cautiously. "Unless you want to, in which case—"

"I'm in no hurry," Jimmy interrupts. "Don't worry. If you want to wait, I'm fine with that."

Scott chews on his lip.

"When do most elves have kids?" Jimmy asks curiously.

"Around—well, most elves don't get married until they're around three hundred. It's younger with royalty, of course."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jimmy says, turning suddenly. "You aren't a teenager, right? When do elves come of age?"

Despite himself, Scott laughs. "No, I'm an adult, you're fine. Elves come of age between the ages of seventy and one hundred, generally. I should have probably come of age when I was ninety or so, but I had the ceremony when I was eighty-two."

"Oh, thank goodness," Jimmy breathes, slumping a bit. "Why is the marriage age for royals younger, then?"

"Well, you want all the royals married off as soon as possible," Scott says reasonably. "Make sure alliances are secure, get the royal descendants occupied so that they aren't trying to betray each other, give them something to do other than laze around the palace. It's actually a popular practice to plan a royal wedding on their two hundredth birthday."

When Jimmy doesn't respond, Scott looks over at him. "It's very sensible," he defends. "If my parents had lived, Xornoth likely would have been betrothed to Katherine or Joey or someone while I would have married a random elven duke or lord. Keeps Xornoth away and out of most politics, and keeps me occupied and gets us royal heirs. It's the most sensible way to do things."

Jimmy stares at him for a moment, then shakes his head. "That's just weird," he says. "Is it not out of love?"

Scott shrugs. "Exceptions have been made. True love, prophecies, the whatnot. For me, it just meant that my dating pool was limited to the Seven Lords of Rivendell and the Thirteen Dukes, or outside royalty. So, lucky thing I met you—the lords have never really been my favorite of party guests."

"Lucky," Jimmy intones, before shaking himself. "Geez, we got off topic. Kids. We were talking about kids."

Right.

Children.

"So you don't want kids right now," Jimmy says, and Scott nods. He hadn’t properly thought about his own wants until Jimmy had asked him—he’s the king, after all. His country is meant to come first.

He doesn’t want a child, though. Not yet.

"Not right now. I'm only a hundred and twelve, for Aeor's sake."

"Wait, one second, back to the marriage thing—are there elves that get married that young? Or are you the first one?"

"No, no, there's always someone who got married exactly a year after their coming of age," Scott waves. "Younger weddings are becoming more and more common. It isn't an issue."

"Cool. Cool. Back to the other thing. Kids—in the future, then?"

Scott looks down at his hand, resting on the railing. Then past it, to his aching left arm, hanging at his side.

He doesn’t want children right now. That’s what he says, what he puts off, what he insists.

"If we want kids in the future, they won't be yours," he says, carefully keeping his voice neutral.

Jimmy moves a little, his nightshirt sliding against his skin in an intimately familiar sound. "Right. Because of the surrogacy thing."

"I don't want a child who isn't yours," Scott bursts out, and this is really the issue that had woken him up, isn't it?

He can't help but see himself in the future, stuck with a child that's half him and half some other elf, lacking Jimmy's beautiful golden hair and perfect brown eyes and little bundles of scales. All he can envision is resenting that child, not tied to any part of the beauty that he loves so much.

He doesn't want that. He wants a child with Jimmy, made up of the both of them.

Jimmy waits.

He's standing there, patiently, waiting for Scott to speak.

But Scott suddenly has a lump in his throat, built up of guilt and frustration and grief, because there will never be a little version of the two of them running around the palace and he feels terribly selfish for wanting that.

Someday, he will need to have a child. Preferably two.

And they have to be of his blood.

"You're my husband," he says, valiantly holding back the tears that blur the edges of his vision. "I want you to be the father of my child. I want—I want a child with you, Jimmy, not with anyone else."

Jimmy hums. "You know I wouldn't mind, right? Adopting isn't any different to me."

But it's not the same.

"I don't know," he whispers. "I want it to be you."

"Good thing is, we don't have to worry about it right now," Jimmy says gently.

"But my council—"

"Can wait. They've been waiting for hundreds of years anyway. What's another hundred or two?"

Scott nods. Jimmy's right. They have time. More time than most, honestly.

"And who knows?" Jimmy adds. "Maybe someone will discover a way to make it work."

Maybe.

A lot can change in a couple hundred years.

It's even possible that they can get the Crystal Cliffs Academy working on some sort of . . . baby-making charm?

Dear Aeor, the sound of that makes him want to shrivel up in embarrassment. He could never request such a thing.

But Gem would absolutely put everything she has into creating something of the sort. She's a good friend—and the idea of a baby would certainly entice her. He ought to consider it, at least.

They have time, though.

He knows that this may not get any easier with time. His advisors will continue to bother him, and there will be the constant question posed of when is the right time if not now.

He doesn’t want a child right now. All he wants is Jimmy.

Scott takes in a deep breath of the cool night air, before scooting over until he's right next to Jimmy. He lays his head on his husband's shoulder, then his right hand over his husband's left.

Jimmy leans into him, rubs his hair with his cheek for a moment. "I love you," Jimmy says softly.

Even after three years of marriage, those words make Scott's heart want to burst.

"I love you, too."