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#(also feels weird that i was pregnant today of last year and had no idea. i even took ”food baby” pics after Christmas dinner not knowing +
diaryofagoodpuppy · 4 months
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
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can you pleaseee make a sequel to the "jjk men hurting y/n" (gojo part) where their son wonders if they can marry y/n when they grow up. you know what i mean.
(also oh my goddddd that fic had me rolling in bed giggling and kicking my legs 😭😭😭😭)
Nothing better than that, thank you so much for your request and liking my work<3
Part l can be found here under Gojo's part
Gojo's and (y/n)'s son wanting to marry (y/n)
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Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,2k
Warnings: fluffness overload
Tags: @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @defnotriri @smarsd @sharycatx3 @kaiserkisser @sanicsmut
As usual, feel free to leave a comment or reblog <3
What happened on that fateful day of the night parade was hard to swallow for both you and Satoru. That unimaginable grief of the breakup when all he wanted to do was to save you. Suguru who wanted to not only kill you but Yuta for your abilities and died himself.
It was all too much to handle, a test for both of you.
“Why didn’t you just tell me? I told you I’m pregnant, that I’m expecting your child and you-….You looked at me with nothing but hatred in your eyes…”
“I’m so sorry, (y/n). Believe me, it killed me from the inside to be so cold to you when in reality, I wanted nothing more than holding you in my arms and tell everyone. But there was no other way. If I’d told you about Suguru’s plan, you would have insisted on coming to Tokyo. And if I didn’t and you’d find out yourself, you would have been absolutely mad and would have been there anyway. Please, all I wanted was to keep you safe. I had no other choice…”
For the first time in your relationship, you saw Satoru Gojo cry in front of you, his hands wrapped around your face. Oh, if you only knew how hard it was for him, how it broke his very own heart within these three cursed weeks.
But now you’re here, safe and sound.
“What happened to Suguru?”
Your innocent question pierced his heart like a knife. Satoru wanted to break down in front of you, too overwhelmed by everything that happened over the last weeks.
But he had to be strong. For you and his unborn baby.
“He didn’t make it.”
Your heart dropped, arms instinctively wrapped around your boyfriend’s trembling frame. Oh, your Satoru. All the things he had to endure over this time. Despite you had every reason to be mad at him you simply can’t. He did this for you, after all. And who knows at what cost.
“We’ll get through this together, okay? You, me and our baby.”
And after months of grieving and talking everything out, you did eventually. You did live through it all: the difficult pregnancy, you almost dying during birth, Satoru getting sealed at Shibuya, the loss of many good friends. It was never easy, you thought about giving up all too often.
But now you’re sitting at the kitchen table with your three year old beautiful son who owns the eyes of his gorgeous father and your hair color.
“Good morning my lovelies”, Satoru purrs against your ear before gently placing a kiss on your cheek.
“Stop that!” your son suddenly shouts, gazing at your husband and his very own father visibly upset.
Huh, what has gotten into him today? Normally he doesn’t mind much when Satoru shows you affection. You tilt your head to the side, Satoru nods towards you.
“What, are you jealous, young man?” Satoru asks challengingly, sitting down next to his son who crawls into his lap immediately.
“You can’t just kiss mama like that because I wanna marry her!” the little boy in front of you announces, determination sparkling in his blue orbs.
Satoru and you stare at each other bamboozled and before you can help yourself, a little giggle escapes your lips. Is this why he was acting so weird? Where does this thought come from?
“You wanna marry her?” Satoru repeats.
“I learned that you kiss at a wedding. So you can’t kiss mommy!”
“Oh, I understand. And how did you get the idea of marrying her?” Satoru continues the conversation.
Your heart feels like exploding in warmth, pure joy speeding through your veins. Seeing your sweet little angel sitting on his father’s lap while announcing that he’ll marry you makes tears sting in your eyes. After all the things you’ve been through, the fights, the injuries, the worries, is this really your life right now? Sitting at the breakfast table while having a delightful conversation with your family?
“I love my mama because she makes me brave.”
Satoru’s eyes dart towards you, so touched by the words of your little one that you can immediately see the glossy shine in them. It’s still like a dream to him, sitting here in peace with both of you by his side. This was definitely worth all the fights and losses he had to endure over the last years. This precious little moment of innocence and pure love.
“Y’know little man, just because you love someone you can’t automatically marry that person. That here is your ma, which means you can’t marry her. If someone gets to marry her that would be me”, Satoru clarifies with his oh so sweet voice.
You desperately try to hold back tears. The love you hold for your little family is more than you could ever explain, deeper than any ocean on this planet. Your son might not be aware of it know, but the fact that he’s sitting here so unbothered was never granted, that all of this will work out was never given.
But now it is. Now you’re sitting there all together. And your son just announced that he wants to marry you.
“But why can you marry her and I not?” he requests, lips forming that little pout that reminds you so much of his father.
“Because you already have her as your wonderful mama. Leave some for the rest”, Satoru replies.
Your son shrieks in his father’s loving arms as he begins to tickle him, laughter filling the room. If anyone would have told you 5 years ago that this will be your life, you would have laughed at him. You really thought this world has no joy for you left, that you and Satoru are cursed through being jujutsu sorcerers.
But that child in front of your very own eyes isn’t a curse. No, it is a true blessing just like Satoru himself. You can’t help but admire him for his strength, for his never ending optimism in this world that tried to tear him down multiple times. Always running back into your open arms, always looking out for you and your family. How do you even deserve him, the man in front of you who looks at your child lovingly?
“But why did you not marry her then?”
You tilt your head to the side, amused by the question of your little one.
“That’s a really good question, angel”, you comment sweetly.
Of course you know all too well that the last few years didn’t have any room for a wedding. Between so many deaths, getting sealed and constant fighting, there wasn’t enough time to arrange something like that. But still, you love to tease your boyfriend a little bit.
“I definitely will someday”, Satoru ensures, gaze set on you with a breathtaking smile.
“And I’ll be there too!” your son cries out in excitement.
“Of course you will, Suguru! Ain’t no wedding without my favorite man by my side!”
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cowgurrrl · 10 months
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Love the writing! Could I get one where Joel is on your and the twins are still really tiny and oc!actress is having a really hard time and has to go home, I don’t know something really angsty and also just fluff at the end of him being a girl dad and loving his 2 little beans.
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Love You
Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader
Author’s note: sorry this took so long!!
Summary: Combining these two asks!! [1.5k]
Warnings: weird Hollywood questions, brief brief brief talks of body image, PPA if you squint, people on twitter being The Worst, Joel being The Best, I think that’s it!!
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You weren't supposed to be working. Then again, you were still supposed to be pregnant. You normally wouldn't pick up new projects or anything super intensive until the twins were at least two years old, but you signed on for this interview two months ago when you didn't think you'd go into labor quite so early. But now you've got one-month-old twins at home and a mandatory event. Sierra would've happily called out of it on your behalf, but Joel told you it was okay if you wanted to go. You hadn't done much except focus on the twins since they were born, and he knew how much you loved to talk about your work— especially since this interview was for the anniversary of one of your first and most well-loved projects, Sweet Water. Carolina will be there too, and it’ll last two hours at most. 
"Go. I can handle this." Joel reassured you. Still, when you went to leave, you cried and repeated instructions for the umpteenth time, even though Joel knows their schedules and habits as well as you. You got kisses from Sam and Joel before walking out the door and doing your best not to turn right around and come back. It's only a few hours, you remind yourself. Nothing catastrophic will happen in a few hours.
You fight your anxiety to constantly check your phone for an update from Joel as Alexa does your makeup. She asks how you're feeling post-partum, how the kids are, and makes a point to tell you how good you look for just having twins. You're not sure if she's laying it on thick because she can clearly see you're frantic, but you appreciate the compliments, nevertheless. As you're walking to set, your phone buzzes with a picture of Sam snuggling up to the girls with a long text about how many ounces the girls drank and what Sammy had for lunch. 
Now, we're watching Frozen 2 for the thirtieth time.
Thank you. Hopefully, I'll be home before the rock giants.
No rush, Mama. We'll see you whenever you get home.
I love you.
Love you too.
Reluctantly, you slide your phone into your pocket as PAs rush around to get everything set up, and the interviewer enters the room. He's an older guy you recognize from many other documentary-style interviews, and you smile as you shake his hand and introduce yourself.  
"It's so nice to meet you. I've heard so many good things." He says, and you laugh. "I've also heard you just had twins."
"Oh, yes. Twin girls about a month ago." You say.
"Congratulations," the reporter says. "Who's watching them today?" He asks. The question takes you back a little bit. Who the fuck does he think is watching your kids?
"My husband, Joel. He's at home with our toddler and the twins."
"Oh, poor dad! Stuck babysitting." He laments, and you scoff, glancing around to see if anybody else is hearing what you're hearing.
"I don't know if it's babysitting when they're also his children, but he was very excited about spending time with them." You say, plastering a smile on your face despite the annoyance bubbling under the surface of your skin. 
"Right. Of course." He says, but his tone makes it sound more like if you say so. You try to brush it off as just old, stupid ideas about parenting and the role fathers take when caring for their kids, but once the cameras start rolling and the questions start coming, all the questions are around the same lines. How did you physically prepare for the role of the young nurse you played in Sweet Water? What were your thoughts when you read about Alex and Griffin's relationship? How old were you when you played Alex? What was it like filming the scenes where you were exposed before the time of intimacy coordinators? 
The questions made your head spin. None of them had anything to do with Alex's character development, what she meant to you, and how her relationships with other women helped you form life-long friendships. They're all bathed in misogynistic prying and thoughts about your twenty-four-year-old body. You smile and redirect where you can, but the whole thing makes you feel gross and invalidated. The second you're done, you meet up with Carolina in the hallway to warn her, and she rolls her eyes before going in. 
As you walk out to your car, you open your phone to text Joel that you're on your way home when a headline from Twitter catches your eye. Your name is in the title, followed by "seen out working one month after giving birth to premature twins. Sparks debate about parenting." Normally, you're not one to doom scroll on the internet, but you can't look away from the thousands of people judging you for leaving your kids at home. Two hours. You were gone for two hours while your husband and the father of your children watched them, but to strangers, you're a vile, evil person who doesn't deserve those sweet babies. Many tweets focus on the fact that the twins were premature. They were if you're looking at typical, singleton pregnancies, but for twins, they were right on time. 
You know it's all stupid and untrue, but you also haven't slept more than four hours a night since Sam was born, and you just went through one of the worst interview experiences of your life, and you miss your kids. You cry the whole way home, your therapized brain and your anxiety brain battling it out the entire drive. Joel doesn't think you're a terrible mom. These past few months, he's done nothing but care for you, and remind you that you're doing amazing and he loves you. So, why can't you focus on that instead of strangers on the internet? You go through the gambit of emotions, and you're completely exhausted when you pull into your driveway.
As soundlessly as possible, you unlock your front door, and Daisy greets you as you step over the threshold. It’s surprisingly quiet. You crouch down and scratch behind her ears, making her close her eyes in contentment, and you laugh. You look behind her, half-expecting Sammy to be barreling right toward you like he always does when you get home but see nothing. "Where is everybody?" You ask her as you kiss her big head and walk into the living room. 
There, spread across the huge couch, is your family. Joel has the girls snuggled to his chest and Sam tucked under his arm as Frozen 2 plays softly on the TV. All three of them are sleeping, but Joel, ever the watchful dad, is awake. Barely, but he's awake. He's wearing his glasses and a half-buttoned-up shirt. You'd be surprised if he even looked at a hairbrush today, let alone used one considering how messy his hair is. He smiles when he catches you staring and beckons you over with a jut of his chin, careful not to wake any sleeping babies. You take a shaky breath as you walk over. Joel's brows knit together when he sees your flushed face up close. "What happened?" He whispers as you kiss him. You don't answer immediately. Instead, you lean down and kiss the girls and Sammy's head before perching on the edge of the couch near Joel's socked feet. 
"Bad day." You mumble. His hand twitches to reach for you but Sophia shifts in protest. He sends you a sympathetic look and points his foot at you.
"I can't hold your hand, but you can hold this." 
"Joel, I love you, but I'm not holding your nasty ass foot."
"Rude." He says, and you smile. "Do you wanna talk bout your bad day?" 
"When there aren't three sleeping time bombs attached to your body." You say, reaching out to run your fingers through Sammy's hair. He sighs in his sleep and cuddles into Joel, making your heart jump. When you look closer at how they're tangled up, you almost start crying again. Sam is tucked between Joel and a pillow, but his right hand holds Sophia's foot, and Violet and Sophia hold hands as they sleep peacefully under Joel's chin— a perfect Miller cuddle. 
"Is there anythin' I can do to help?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head. Your entire day melts away as you stare at your precious family, and even though he had no way of knowing about your day, Joel gave you the gift of coming home to your favorite sight. 
"This is perfect." You say, and he smiles. You cuddle up on the opposite end of the couch, somehow intertwining your legs, and catch the last ten minutes of Frozen before falling asleep too. Later, Joel will cook you dinner, and you'll do bathtime and get the kids to bed as a team. You'll check in with Sarah and Ellie and tell him about your horrible day. He'll hold you close and reassure you, and you'll feel better. But right now, a nap is the perfect thing you need to regulate your emotions, and you fall deeper in love with him for letting you sleep. Because as the years go by and your marriage changes, as do both of you, he still finds a way to read you better than you could ever read yourself.
And you can't imagine a better person to share your life with.
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star-girl69 · 2 years
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We Do Not Wilt - Chapter Four - We Do Not Drown
Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!FemOC
a/n: i added this chapter in bc i felt like it was weird for may and daemon to be married and be such high ranking royals without at least TRYING for an heir, you know? this chapter is of course really triggering, but i also just wanted to get the point across how deeply may is intertwined with the ideas of duty and honor. she feels it is her duty to give daemon an heir, so she’ll keep trying no matter how much pain it brings her. as always i hope you all enjoy!!! (also i apologize this chapter is so short, i’ll be posting another shorter one later today to make up for it!!)
warnings: mentions of blood, death, miscarriage, child loss, suicidal ideation (??? that might not be the right term for it), i think that’s it??
—-
Lady May looked out the window. She heard the shuffling of servants behind her. It had been nine years since Laenor and Rhaenyra’s wedding. Even longer since her and Daemon’s.
Yet no children blessed their union.
“The remains are being taken to the Maester’s, My Lady. We shall take our leave now.”
May made a sound of acknowledgment. The maids gathered themselves and left, leaving only the sound of curtains flapping in the wind. May closed the balcony doors, and the noise stopped. The room was empty now.
This was the third child she had lost prematurely. She wasn’t sure if she could continue it any longer. She hadn’t called anyone. Not Alicent, not Daemon.
Alicent pitied her too much. Daemon worried too much.
Tears fell down May’s face.
The door opened again.
“I told you, that will be all.” She sniffled, trying to pull herself together. Trying to sound strong.
“I haven’t even done anything yet,” She could hear Daemon’s smirk. She didn’t want to face him. Not yet. “How is my lady wife doing?” He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her stomach. At this point, she still looked pregnant. The swelling hadn’t gone down, and wouldn’t for a few weeks. May often thought that was the worst part. Walking around with an empty home inside of you. “I hope you haven’t given your sweet mother too much trouble, little dragon.”
If she hadn’t lost the baby, she would have smiled. Laughed, even, turned around and kissed him. Maybe the baby would have kicked. And Daemon would kiss her stomach, making some comment about how this child will be the most fearsome dragon the world has ever seen.
But her baby was dead.
“I failed you,” May whispered, letting the tears fall more freely. Daemon’s arms tightened around her, confused.
“You could never fail me, my love. Tell me, what makes you think this?” She pulled away from him, stepping towards the vanity. A sob ripped through her.
“My- my womb. It will not grow our children.” Her eyes fixed on a spot of blood on the floor. It was small, the maids must have missed it. His eyes followed his wife’s.
He stepped forward, grabbing her waist and spinning her around.
“You have not failed me.” He repeated. “I would rather have you than 10 children.” She scoffed.
“You want an heir. You want a legacy. You do not want to be forgotten. All men fear death, husband.”
“The only thing I fear is losing you.” His nose slotted next to hers, pulling her close. His hands were tender around her waist, drawing small circles. “I will make this better for you. Tell me how.”
May lifted her face to look at him. She smiled softly. There was nothing he could do.
—-
Caraxes was always a welcome sight. The dragon keepers brought him out, and he perched on a hill, overlooking a small bundle on a pile of wood.
The funeral was small, as all her children’s were.
She took a step back, placing one last kiss to the canvas that contained the remains. She imagined it was a real baby. Happy, healthy, with a dragon egg by her baby’s side. He would be fearsome. He would ride the world as if it was his dragon. She turned around, took her place next to Alicent. Viserys smiled kindly at her. She couldn’t return it.
She felt Daemon’s eyes on her.
“Dracarys.” His voice was hoarse.
And Lady May watched as her child burned.
She wanted to join.
—-
“Alicent, I-“ May stopped. “Oh, Princess Rhaenyra. Ser Laenor.” She looked upon the baby in Rhaenyra’s arms. “Congratulations!” Her mouth was a tight line. That should be her. The Princess smiled in pain.
“What happy news this morning,” Viserys proclaimed, walking in behind May.
“Indeed, Your Grace.” Laenor smiled, a proud father. That should be Daemon. May stood next to Alicent, who grabbed her arm in a comforting manner.
“Where is he? I wish to hold my grandson,” He took the babe in his arm. “A fine Prince,” He praised. “Sturdy. You’ll make a fearsome knight.”
“Does the babe have a name yet?” Alicent asked, as May looked away from everyone.
“We haven’t spoken-“
“Joffrey.” Laenor interrupted his wife. “He’ll be called Joffrey.”
“That’s an unusual name for a Velaryon,” Alicent mused.
“I do believe he has his fathers nose,” Viserys smiled, handing the child back to Laenor. Alicent stepped forward, cooing over the child.
“Lady May, would you like to hold him?” Rhaenyra asked, smiling kindly. May smiled back, and Laenor handed the babe to her. She looked down at him. This should be her child.
But she could not fault Rhaenyra for her fertility. She could not fault the child for being born. He was quite adorable, she supposed. Tears filled her eyes before she knew it. Laenor saw, quickly taking the child back so May didn’t have to make a fuss.
“He is very handsome, Princess.” She tried to will her tears away. Laenor stood in front of her for a moment, blocking everyone else from seeing her. May smiled gratefully at him, and he nodded with a smile. She composed herself, and he turned back to Rhaenyra.
“You need some rest,” He spoke to her, and Rhaenyra nodded. Viserys smiled brightly. Alicent’s was tight. May took her leave quickly, heading back to her chambers.
It had been a year since losing her last child. The pain had subsided. But never truly went away.
—-
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polaroidcats · 6 months
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It just hit me. For part 2 of assigning german/austrian songs to the marauders, this time with Remus:
Egoist by Falco.
You know it's true.
(This is the only Remus bashing you will ever get from me, he is my babygirl and he has never done anything wrong in his life ever)
Oh wow okay I didn't know I'd be coming home to Remus bashing in my inbox today but here we are! Why are you calling him an egoist? Just because he abandoned his pregnant (so very straight) wife (so very straightly) and didn't take responsibility for that until a 17 year old kicked his ass? Idk what you're on about, that's a weird AU, Remus would never do that.
I see your Falco and I raise you: Junge Römer. You know Sirius played that song on repeat for like a week and thought he was the funniest person ever because of Remus's name.
Also I should note, I'm a bit tipsy (ON REMUS WINE!) atm so this is NOT the official German Remus playlist, this is the shitpost version of the official German Remus playlist, here we go, no thoughts just vibes:
Okayokay I'm thinking abt austrian music now and since we're pretty much the only 2 people invested in these playlists anyways I won't worry about the musicians being well known or not (though I'd love to know which of these you knew and which you didn't!).
May I sugesst Wolfgang Amrbos' Die Kinettn wo i schlof as homeless Remus Lupin's crying song. I feel a bit bad about putting this on the list because the song is genuinely so good and emotional and it made me cry when I was a child (I grew up listening to Ambros) but yeah. Uhm. No further explanation, also idek if you'll understand the dialect lol
DIALECT! When making the german Sirius list one of my Remus thoughts was what the german equivalent to welsh/scottish remus is and I've come to the conclusion that the obvious answer is Vorarlberg. SO obviously Vo Melo Bis Ge Schoppornou has to be included on the list. No I don't understand much either but it's still german (and imho one of the sexiest german accents, I said what I said).
Ham kummst is toxic wolfstar divorce AU core!!!!
Okay this one is actually a serious (lol) suggestion I think Remus would actually really like and relate to Sie mögen sich by Kätpn Peng! ALso maybe Tier by Käptn Peng?
Meine Sonne by Grossstadtgeflüster as angsty REMUS POV either poa era or first war or sth
Also I know this is officially the inofficial Remus list but i had another galaxy brain idea - Aurélie by Wir sind Helden is a song about french Sirius in an AU of our german marauders AU.
oKAAAY ANYWAYS BACK TO AUSTRIAN MUSIC Ich Lebe by Christl Stürmer is also a Remus/wolfstar song now, because I said so.
sepp haT gesagT wir müssen alles anzünden is just pure chaos marauders vibes tell me I'm wrong.
okayyy back to remus Irgendwann bleib I dann dort by STS is also Remus. ANd Gö, du bleibst heut nacht bei mir is needy Remus in a werid fwb situation with remus or sth idk
ALso since I've given up any pretense of choosing things that make sense I also suggest 1001 Nacht is about wolfstar friends to lovers slowburn. YOU KNOW IT'S TRUE
Okay also I just wanted to add something by AnnenMayKantereit because why not, and I'm sure there are better songs but I decided on 21,22,23 purely because of the youth/death themes and bc Jily died at 21 and Remus and Sirius died in their mid-late thirties.
okay now i made myself sad i need one more nonsense answwer and then i'll post this glorious completely coherent masterpiece
I was going to go with LaFee for a tasteful last song but then spotify suggested Tokio Hotel and who am I to disagree?! you can't tell me angsty early 2000s german teenage werewolf remus lupin DIDN'T listen to them, I'm sorry but he really felt the lyrics of Durch den Monsun.
yeah idek what this is i'm sure it's EXACTLY what you expected (lol) uhm i blame the remus wine. Any thoughts on the playlist??
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quick-catton · 3 months
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Hi quick-catton!! First of all I love your page and I love your personality💕💕💕 I also LOVE Saturn and Felix and Oliver just-😫😫😫 I love it every time you post, it makes my day!! Right now I just really need your help. Today I had to go on another account just to send something to my ask box because since I started my account last year, I’ve gotten nothing and it really hurts.
I love how open and freaky you are in your posts and I’m honestly the same way with Saltburn and an anime fandom that I’ve shaped my blog around. I used to be a little calm and collected but you’re inspiring to just let go and let my freak flag fly but the problem is, with my fandom, I don’t think people are going to be very inviting. Like literally the only thing I wanna do right now is babygirl code my favorite anime character sooo badly but I’m afraid I’ll lose all my followers and when I try to I get no engagement.
Like I wrote three freaking paragraphs about how good he’d look with a navel piercing! That was this morning and I got nothing all day but four likes. No reblogs, no comments, I literally had to make another account and send myself some praise for that post just so I could post it to show people that at least someone else agrees with me.
And I know I should give it time but that’s the problem. Some of my other posts like that don’t grow. They just get five likes and that’s it and it sucks because all I wanna do is engage with people that want to see this boy in lingerie or a skirt or goddamn pregnant (told you I was a freak)
I just don’t know what to do. How do you deal that? I’m honestly this close to deleting my account coz it seems like I’m posting to a blank wall and it’s so embarrassing coz everyone can see it. Sorry this is so long! Thank you for quickcatton 💕💕
WAH ANON ur so sweet omg, thank you?? <33 honestly i feel like i don't have good advice because i only made a tumblr for the first time EVER at the beginning of january!!! i am 23 and had never set foot on this app, but i saw that most of the saltburn fandom was here, so i gave it a shot and i've just been learning as i go.
i think that's half of my 'luck' with having a good experience on this app, is that because this fandom is so fresh, it's super active, but it's also a very small fandom (relative to some others) so we're all kinda like a hivemind here LOL, and because of the source material of the movie itself being weird/freaky/psychosexual, we all know that anything goes and the more freaky the brainrot, the better! i'm in other fandoms where if i said half of the shit i say here, i'd be ostracized, so it's really a case by case basis unfortunately </3
ik i yap a lot here but i also hold back sooo much because even tho ik we're all weirdos here, i still get nervous about putting out my writing or not having people vibe with an idea– you're not alone in that, i promise. it helps forming friendships in your fandoms so you know that there'll always be people who you can get hype over ideas with, but i know that's easier said than done sometimes <3
i don't have advice on engagement because i honestly don't look at that stuff (which i know is so annoying to say lol but it's true); i made this account purely to have a place to dump brainrot/art etc and view other people's saltburn content and i didn't care about engagement, i just got lucky to meet some cool people and make close friends through it.
i think if people can tell you're having fun through your posts, they'll vibe with you! it does take time with the good ol' algorithm, i'm sure, but as long as your page brings YOU joy, that's what matters most. people don't have to agree with your takes, life is too short to be vanilla and water urself down for others :^) making fandom friends and gaining interactions will come along with being yourself, but if posting here and running the account feels more stressful to you than it is fun, it's okay to step away too!
if you're on ao3 and sites like that, leaving comments on your fave works can be a great way to get conversations going as well. i met my closest friend on here bc she stumbled across my fic on ao3 and then sent me a message; it was purely up to chance, but branching out and being brave starting conversations with your fave accounts can be a great way to feel more included in the fandoms you're in and maybe you'll meet cool people along the way!! <33
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themultifandomgal · 2 years
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Scott McCall- Nesting
Over the last week everyone has noticed the change in YN’s behaviour. She went from being calm most of the time to stressing over the smallest of things. It all started when Scott came home and had blood on his shirt, instead of going and taking it off and getting it washed ASAP he made himself a drink, YN wasn’t impressed. Since then things have been getting more intense especially today at the Hale loft, the pack are having a meeting, but instead of sitting and being apart of the group YN is cleaning
“Whats gotten into YN?” Lydia asks Scott
“No idea” Scott sighs “all week she’s been acting weird”
“In what way?” Stiles asks as they all watch YN open up the fridge
“So I told you about the other day after our training session with the new wolves, she went crazy saying that from now on if I have blood on me I can’t enter the house. I know she’s one of us Derek and I don’t know that much about female wolves, but she’s constantly cleaning, every bit of dust or dirt. Just yesterday she changed our bedding, it was changed 3 days ago”
“Could she be going into heat. You know she acts weird around then” Stiles suggests. Derek and Peter look at each other
“No, we’ve dealt with that for the last 3 years. I know what she’s like and this isn’t it”
“Derek, Peter this is disgusting!” YN calls from the kitchen “this cheese went out of date yesterday” YN starts to throw out food causing Peter to sigh
“Scott, your buying us more food”
“Ok something is definitely going on with her” Lydia says crossing her arms
“Derek any idea?” Scott asks
“I think I know, but it’s not my place to say, I don’t actually think she knows herself”
“You’ll find out soon enough” Peter now says to Scott, slightly annoying him that the 2 older wolves won’t say what’s going on.
After the meeting Scott and YN head home, the first thing YN does is go to the couch and move the pillows around
“Ok what’s going on YN?” Scott asks his mate
“What do you mean?”
“Well you’ve been acting weird all week. Your pacing more and cleaning none stop. You smell different as well. Are you feeling ok?” YN looks at Scott with a frown as she thinks
“I guess I’ve been feeling more irritated and disgusted lately, but on the whole I don’t feel ill”
“Derek and Peter seem to know what was wrong, they wouldn’t tell me”
“I mean I was due for my heat last week maybe it’s that?”
“No, when your due for your heat your just tired and hungry. This is different” YN sits down on the couch pulling the blankets off the back of the couch over herself. Scott sits next to her and pulls her into him. YN continues to think about what could be going on, but she can’t figure it out.
The next few days, things are the same. Neither Scott or YN can figure out what is going on, so Scott decided the best thing to do is go and speak to Dr Deaton
“Well YNs pregnant”
“Pardon?” YN says with raised eyebrows
“Your pregnant. Normally in packs this is talked about, but as your pack is a little… different to how they usually work, theres no female wolf to explain all of this to you. Granted Derek or Peter should have, but it may have been a little awkward for them”
“So why am I cleaning all the time?”
“Your nesting YN. I’d say you’ve got another 4 months of pregnancy”
“4 months?” Scott practically yells
“Gestation period is a lot faster than a humans. Anyway. Congratulations both, just be prepared for a lot more nesting and also Scott your going to become a lot more aggressive and protective of YN. You’ll also be sensing the baby in the next week or so”
“Thank you Deaton”
“No problem”
Just as the Dr had said. Over the next week Scott has become a lot more aggressive when any of the other male wolves interacts with YN, and she has been nesting a lot! that’s why they have decided that YN would stay away from pack business for now and Scott would go on his own after dropping YN off at his moms house. Both YN and Scott can’t wait to meet their bundle of joy in a few months time.
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survey--s · 2 years
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When was the last time you climbed over a fence? Uh, I don’t remember, but probably fairly recently when I was dog walking. I often end up climbing over things to fetch balls back for the dogs lol.
Does your pet wear a collar? Archie wears one when he’s on walks, but not in the house. The cats stay iside so they don’t wear collars. They’re too much of a strangulation risk IMO.
What is the first thing on your Christmas Wishlist? A horse, hahah. I would LOVE one but the cost and commitment is just too much. I’d need to put the horse on livery and that would just cost too much money for us right now.
What would you do if your mom/dad saw a hickey on you? Laugh it off, lol. I mean, I’m married, they know I have a sex life. I hate hickeys in general though.
What goal are you working on this month? Cantering down the beach in a week! I’ve cantered really well in lessons these past few weeks so I’m sure it’ll happen. I’ve been waiting for months and I’m SO glad I can finally do it.
What could you say is your biggest time waster? The internet in general, but lately BeatStar which is insanely addictive, and also reading FundieSnark on Reddit, hahah.
When was the last time that you were asked out somewhere, and you declined? I can’t remember the last time I declined specific plans, I’ve been out pretty much everyday this week.
If you’re listening to music, name a lyric from the song.  I’m currently watching My 600lb Life.
Are you a sound sleeper? I wish. I wake up at every little noise/movement and it’s so frustrating. No wonder I’m pretty much always tired.
In your opinion, which is more attractive, nice biceps or washboard abs? Nice biceps.
How do you feel about bands that use pyrotechnics in live concerts? I’m not really interested, I prefer small, intimate venues.
Why do you hate your ex? I don’t hate him, I just don’t particularly want anything to do with him.
Does anybody hate you? Not so far as I know.
If you were pregnant, who would you tell first? My husband, but that’s not gonna happen.
Do you think that you’re good enough for the one you like? I think that’s such a weird way of thinking about relationships. It’s not healthy.
Did you speak to your father today? No.
What is your father’s middle name? Yeah, I’m not putting that on here.
When was the last time you had alcohol? About nine months ago. I don’t really drink.
Last person of the opposite sex you gave a hug to? Mike.
Have you ever met anyone who claimed to be a witch? Yeah, one of my cousins is into all that stuff.
What’s the weirdest thing in your body that you can crack? My toes.
Do you know anyone with asthma? My mum is asthmatic, though she never really needs an inhaler anymore.
Have you ever been involved in a custody battle before? Nope.
Who was the best kisser you’ve ever dated? Mike.
Have any of your siblings ever had a crush on your significant other? I don’t have any siblings.
Are your siblings nice the majority of the time? ...
Any other names your parents planned to give you? Alexander if I was a boy.
Are you healthy? I could be better, but I could also be a hell of a lot worse.
Number of jeans in your closet: About five pairs.
Rihanna or Lady GaGa? Rihanna.
Which was the last book that really captivated you? I can’t remember. The Night Circus, maybe.
Do you prefer nail polish with sparkles in it, or matte colors? Matte colours.
Have you ever had a teacher you got really close with? No.
Can  you actually picture yourself getting married/having kids, or is that  something that seems too distant in the future to imagine? I’m already married but I have absolutely no interest in having children.
When’s the last time you spent time with your cousins? Uhh. The last one I saw was Catherine and that was about five years ago. They all live overseas.
What’s your younger sibling’s name? ...
Do you have an idea of what kind of profession you’d like to have? For now, I love being a dog walker.
Do you ever pick up your house phone? We haven’t had a landline since Archie was a puppy. He chewed through the wire so when our package was up for renewal, we just cancelled the phone bit of it as it was just a waste of money.
Is your sister a slut? I hate the word slut.
Do you ever think about what went wrong in your first relationship? No, we were just kids.
If you had to get a piercing (not ears) what would you get? Uh, I have no desire to get anymore piercings.
If you could sleep with one famous person, who would it be?   None of them.
If you woke up naked next to the last person you texted what would you say? Nothing.
Ever been kissed under fireworks? Yeah.
How would you react if a doctor told you that you were infertile? I’d probably fairly relieved, in all honesty.
Do you get along with your best friend’s parents? I mean, my best friends’ parents are my in-laws lol. We get along well enough but we’re very different. 
Have you ever been in a relationship where you didn’t get along with the person’s parents? No, thankfully not.
How many people of the opposite sex have you said “I love you” to? I don’t really keep track of that kind of thing.
The person you fell the hardest for says they never felt anything for you. What do you say? He wouldn’t say that to me.
Who was the last person to tell you that they find you attractive? Mike.
What was the last compliment you paid to someone of the opposite sex? I honestly can’t remember.
How often do you listen to music? Everyday in the car.
Have you ever wanted your significant other to get rid of a friend? No.
Is the person you last texted single? We’re married.
Have you ever seen the last person you kissed without their shirt on? Sure, everyday.
Is the last person you kissed mad at you? No.
Has the person you like ever made you upset? Sure, we’re married, we live together and we’ve been together over six years - of course there have been arguments and stuff in that time.
Scenario: If you were getting unwanted attention by some creeper, would the person you like stand up for you? I’m not gonna lie, he’d probably punch them in the face lol.
Does the person you like, know that you like them? I mean, we’re married, so I would imagine so.
When angry, do you get loud or quiet? I tend to rant a lot but not necessarily loudly or to other people.
Have you ever been in a secret relationship? No.
Have you ever danced in front of your mirror naked? Sure, when I was younger.
Are your grandparents still alive? No, my grandparents passed away at least six years ago.
Ever been in a car accident? Yes.
If you got married to the last person you kissed would you be happy? We are married.
Do you like any of Justin Bieber’s songs? I don’t really know any of his songs.
Do you believe saving your virginity for marriage or no? No, personally I think that’s absolutely ridiculous.
When you were a kid, did you ever like Barney? Yep, I LOVED Barney and watched it all the time lol.
When was the last time you kissed someone? Earlier today.
What’s the capital of wherever you live? London.
Did you have any beer this past week? Nope.
Have you ever had champagne? Did you like it? Yeah. It’s okay but personally I don’t get the hype.
Do you like to cuddle? Hmm. I have to be in the right mood for it and I don’t like it when it’s warm and I get all sweaty and feel all claustrophobic.
Do you think you’ve changed over the past year? Definitely. I think I’m much happier and much more confident.
When was the last time you talked to your grandmother?   Both my grandmothers have passed away. Maybe 15 years ago for one, and 7-8 years for the other.
Have you ever phoned a sex hotline?   No.
Do you sleep with the door open or closed? We have the bedroom door open but the door to downstairs is closed so that the cats and dog are kept separate overnight.
Have you ever caught a friend cheating on their bf/gf?   Hmm. Not caught as such, but I knew about it.
When was the last time you saw your grandpa? Again, both my grandfathers have passed away. I maybe saw one about eight years ago and the other 12 years ago? 
The last time you had sex, was it in their bed or yours? Our bed.
List one of your fears:   Getting dementia or Alzheimers.
Has anyone ever drunk called/texted you? Sure.
Do you know anyone who drinks a lot? Not anymore. The only person I did know like that, was an alcoholic and eventually drank herself to death.
What do you think your significant other/crush likes the most about you? You’d have to ask him.
What are your plans for tomorrow? Hopefully I’ll get some sleep. I’m exhausted.
Have your parents ever told you stories about the day you were born? Not so far as I can remember. It’s not really something I’ve ever asked about.
How long have you been using Tumblr? I’ve had Tumblr on and off for about a decade, I think, maybe longer.
Who was the last person that you introduced to your family? Uhhh. Suzanne, a client of mine lol.
Your period is a few days late… are you worried? Nope.
Do you know all the words to the last song you listened to? I don’t remember which song that was.
Does your significant other/crush like chocolate? He loves chocolate, but mostly that sickly white stuff. Bleurgh.
Can your significant other/crush sing? He really can’t, lol.
Have you ever seen your father cry? No.
Who was the last person you added as a friend on Facebook? How do you know that person? Nel. Her husband is our window cleaner, lol.
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hjellacott · 1 year
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Letters to the girls #01
A/N: So I realised that now I'm "old" in Tumblr years and there's this whole new generation of teenagers here, some without Mums or females they can trust and talk about girls stuff, and so I thought I'd start a series of "Letters to the girls" talking about female things, particularly in adolescence and young adulthood, to have a space for feminine conversations, where you girls (and hey, why not boys? perhaps you've got questions too!) can ask ANYTHING. My messages are also open for you girls to tell me whatever you want to talk about, and I'll listen.
Today's topic is... MENSTRUATION AND THE FEMALE BODY PARTS!!! (you know where your clit is?)
I remember vividly when I first got my period. I must've been around twelve and I'm pretty sure I was the last one in my group of friends to get her period.
For some reason, I had no idea I was supposed to be expecting it. I suppose it could be your case, too? You study it in school. You know it happens. But somehow, you don't necessarily connect the dots and realise that yes, it's about to happen TO YOU. I got the scare of MY LIFE, let me tell you.
I remember going to the loo, as one does, and when I looked at the toiler paper, it was soaked in deep red blood. SOAKED. Now, of course, I laugh, but back then I freaked the hell out. I mean, imagine the fucking shock when you're just a kid and you just wanna pee and get on with your life and then you're fucking bleeding out. And I'm a hypochondriac, so you bet I only needed 5 seconds to think I was about to die. Right there sitting on the toilet. What a way to go!
I began shouting for my Mum in the worst panic of my life. I didn't even have time to think "hold on maybe we don't scare Mum". So of course she barged in, and I was borderline crying like "Mummy I'M BLEEDING! WHAT'S WRONG?!"
What makes me laugh harder now is remembering just how fucking chill and calm my mum was. She went from 100% panic to looking at me, the toilet paper soaked in blood in my hand, and then she was fully relaxed, probably thinking "fucking kid nearly killed me and is just her period". My poor mum.
That was the time that my mother, very patiently, explained to me that I had my period (which of course THEN began to make perfect sense, and I know you're probably thinking, how the fuck was this girl so oblivious? but remember this was before social media was a thing amongst teens, you guys feel adult much sooner now) and she proceeded to explain me about tampons and pads. About a decade later, the situation amusingly reverted and I sat with her explaining her how period cups are just INFINITELY better.
I then remember exiting the loo, once I was all ready, still probably looking white and mortified and feeling like my whole life was ruined, and my wonderful late father smiled this big ass smile at me and was like "you're a woman!" and gave me a super hug. Now, this might seem weird to you, but my father was chronically ill, so he was probably just happy he'd lived to see that moment.
Here's the thing about girls. I can't speak for boys, I'm not a boy. But us girls, we have frighteningly fantastic adaptation skills. So you get your period and at first I thought yeah, this sucks and life is horrible, and how am I ever going to get the hang of this? And then you just... do. Somehow life goes on and you adapt and it becomes one more boring part of your life, a monthly reminder that yes you're still not pregnant and your uterus is a little disappointed in you.
And here's a thing I only learned in my late teens. Each period is unique. Just like breasts are unique, nipples, vaginas... In my teens, I had a phase where I began to obsess about whether my period was normal, because for years it didn't hurt at all, whether other girls also got little blood clots, whether my vaginal lips were too big, my pubis too hairy, my breasts too small... All these things. When you're a teen, you just keep comparing and wondering, and many of my friends would talk about their bodies and all in school, but I'd always feel too self-conscious to join in. So now I can tell you that relax, however your body looks, it is normal. So long as your gyn doesn't say otherwise, you're fine.
Nipples come in different colours and sizes, aureolas are not always of a different colour than your skin, and can be browner, pinkier, even whiter, and yes, it's fine to have some hairs there. It's also fine to have little hairs around your chest and belly, we all, I promise you, have them. It's got to do with genetics, production of hormones, and race. Some girls might tell you "ew, I have no hair in my torso!" LIE. It's just that for many girls, those hairs are like the hairs many girls have in their cheeks or jawlines, very fine, very small, hard to see blonde hairs, like the fine hair that covers babies. And for others, like me, we might have them darker. I can tell you that I for one have some darker, perfectly visible hairs in my breasts and belly, hairs that I might pluck or ignore depending on my general feelings in the moment, and others that are so fine, I only notice they're there if the sun glows on them.
And breasts are all so different. It's also perfectly normal for your breasts to not be identical left and right, for one to be bigger or rounder or saggier, and nipples might be super tiny or round and bigger. And belly? it's fine to have a belly. If your belly is bigger than your chest, that's fine! give your body time to change. Oh, and when your trousers begin to feel tight, relax, you're not fat! It's just that in your teens, your hips begin to really develop. Mine widened a lot, so even though I've always been very thin, suddenly I was in like, two sizes more of trousers just because of it, and it's normal. Also your teens are a big time for hormonal readjustments, so don't panic if your weight is shifting a lot or out of control... Just make sure to do exercise and eat healthy, and you've got this.
And your pubis? Girl, everything that's down there is unique to YOU. Some girls have lots of hair, like, absolute bushes, the envy of lions, others don't. And it might be black, brown, blonde, sandy, gingery, curly, silky, rougher... Some girls like to trim it, some girls like to "keep it neat and tidy", some girls plait it (and I'm not fucking kidding you), some girls fully shave it. And yes, your skin will always look a little pale underneath. Your clitoris is that thing at the top of the lips that feels sorta like a hard yet soft ball of skin and cartilage, it might be bigger or smaller, pinkier or darker, and is covered by a hood of skin. And when you feel horny, the clit will get hard and come out a bit, like a tiny erection, and depending on how big yours is, you might notice it more or less, but all sizes are normal.
Also, that's just the outer part of your clit. It then goes inside, and forms like a "c", which is one of the reasons why sex done right will be pleasurable even without touching from outside. Then there's your lips. In biology, they call them labia majora and minora, and it comes from Latin, basically meaning major lips or minor lips. The major lips are in the outside sides of the minor lips, and the minor lips part revealing the most intimate area of your body, that'll always be wet (because female bodies create different amounts and types of fluids, without you needing to be turned-on, just for your overall health) and that in the lower part, has the vaginal entrance.
But don't let the names of those lips deceive you: the major lips aren't always the bigger ones, and the minor lips aren't always tiny. Sometimes, it's the whole other way around. And labia minora can also be quite dark even if you're white and pale so if that happens, don't freak out!
Just, overall, don't freak out. Come and ask. Let's talk about you!
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alexeiadrae · 1 year
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Confessions of a Truth Speaker
I’ve always had a love of trivia and a good memory. And something about being born with an auditory processing disorder where spoken words are nebulous left me hungry for written words and with a desire to get as close to the true meaning of the speaker/writer as possible. Basically because I know how it hinders communication otherwise and how embarrassing it can be.
For instance, once in junior high my friend sat down at the lunch table and made an announcement. What I heard was, “Today Rebecca is pregnant.”
I replied, “And she wasn’t pregnant yesterday and she won’t be pregnant tomorrow, Am, you’re not making any sense!”
Am looked at me weird and said, “I said today is Rebecca’s birthday.”
How my ears heard pregnant instead of birthday will be one of the unfathomable mysteries of how my brain works. But it’s easy to see why I spend time trying to understand what people mean when they speak or write rather than what my own filter tells me and to get to the truth of matters. I am also am Empiricist. I was raised by atheists in the Bible Belt, and I was taught skeptical thinking and how to weigh the evidence of ideas. I was debating evolution vs creationism since I was 13. And my own ideas are not fixed in stone. If I find better information or if I find a better argument I will shift my thinking. This didn’t exactly endear me to the locals but I didn’t want to be like them anyway.
Often though, things I never thought would be controversial would set people off. I love folk music and studying the history of it, and when I found that What Child is This? took its melody from Greensleeves I found this fascinating. It really offended a friend for some reason though. And through the years there are lots of facts that I thought were innocuous that would set people off. It is disillusioning how in many places it feels as though the worse thing you can do is speak an inconvenient truth. Being mean and nasty to people is fine, but speaking a truth people don’t want to hear is unforgiveable. 
Further, I’ve noticed that I can be kind and magnanimous. I can say that people can come to different conclusions and believe what they want. But whether it is a young Earth Creationist or someone who doesn’t like a bit of worldbuilding, the issue is that I don’t believe it and they can’t out-argue me. People who weaponize their feelings to silence those who speak truths they don’t like show by their actions that they don’t want everyone to be able to have their personal truth but they want people bowing down to their personal mythology. Once again, we have tyranny.
And here comes the struggle of someone who loves facts. How are you to tell which ones are offensive to others without having the ability to read minds? Chewing people out for speaking the truth is a good way to keep everyone walking on eggshells. Meanwhile, when someone flips out at another for stating a fact they don’t like, is that not tyranny? Is this not what Galileo Galilei got in trouble with the Catholic Church for? And while the Catholic Church bullied him into submission, it did not change the truth.
I’ve noticed a disturbing trend in fandom circles to pile on people for stating a fact that people don’t like. While it undoubtably hurts to hear facts that contradict ones beliefs, it’s also part of life. You can either change your mind to reflect the change in information, decide to have your own personal truth while acknowledging that people who have the facts on their side have a right to discuss it or even celebrate it, or you can bully others into silence for speaking the truth. And if you choose the last option, then you create an environment where people have to walk on eggshells. If it’s not safe to speak the truth about certain things then anything can be a target.
Authors and directors have certain romantic pairings in mind when creating content and it is not bad to say that certain ships are canon and others aren’t. It doesn’t mean that people can’t enjoy other ships, but they also don’t have a right to bully people into stating that any ship is canon or no ship is canon. In Les Mis it’s fun to think what would have happened if Enjolras had fallen in love with Eponine, but in the musical it did not happen. Eponine pined away for Marius, and people who discuss this or enjoy Cosette and Marius together aren’t doing anything wrong by discussing it.
And jumping on someone for stating facts about worldbuilding if people don’t like them first, does not change the truth, and second, is a form of tyranny. I’m sure it hurt people’s feelings to learn that the Earth was not the center of the solar system but Galileo did nothing wrong by stating it. People are allowed to feel hurt and grieve and come to terms with it in healthy ways. But bullying people for stating a truth is not a healthy way to cope.
And while there is certainly a difference in degree between Galileo and a given fandom, learning to handle truths that make us uncomfortable or hurt are things that I think humanity would benefit from learning. And it’s good to start small and work up. Current American politics gives plenty examples of why.
And as for me, I will continue to value Empiricism, Rationalism and the truth. Places that will tear a person apart for it are places I want nothing to do with. Sadly, places that value the things I do are few and far between but worth finding and creating.
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livingwithlosingyou · 2 years
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Living with Losing You - 9/30/2022
Nothing is a coincidence.
Last night I unfortunately had nightmares about you. It was strange because I felt like I overall slept mostly well. I also went to bed with the door slightly cracked to wake up to it wide open. Your mom said it was Biggie, but I am not sure why he would aggressively open the door that wide. He was able to fit in the crack as it was. I am going to sleep with the door cracked again tonight in case he wants to come up / to test this theory again. 
I woke up at around 6:20am, so I slept about 6 hours. I went down stairs to catch your mom before she headed out for an appointment, but then I went back up and slept for an hour. I woke up and immediately started getting ready for my Louisville trip. Today was the day I checked to see if my “I remember...” slip was still hanging on the wall. Once I was ready and leaving I realized that itn was going to take me longer than anticipated to arrive. I called the KY Science Center to ask if I could swap my ticket time and blamed it on my California brain. The drive was about an hour and fifteen minutes. Not too bad. 
I finally arrived and parked in a local parking structure. It was really weird being in this town without you. We had made SO many fun memories in Louisville. That was going to be your home next year. My heart breaks for the future that you no longer have. And for the people who you really could have helped. Though you are still helping people now. 
I walked to the science center, showed them my ticket upon arrival, and went right to the third floor where the exhibit was. Now, there were a TON of these papers all over the place, strung up side by side. I did a pretty thorough investigation, but I couldn't find it. Luckily the exhibit was fairly empty, except for one older woman who worked there. I asked her if she knew if there were other notes that were taken down, and she verified there were. I told her that you had taken your life in July, and that we went there in May. I had written something cheesy / along the lines of “I remember the day that I met the love of my life” or something of the sort. She immediately went downstairs and grabbed a box filled with hundreds of them. As her and I began the search, she said “You know, I lost my fiancé to suicide when I was 30″. I couldn't believe it. There truly are no coincidences. So, we began sharing our stories with each other. She left me with some advice. She said that it is okay to be happy, and that I deserve that feeling. But, she also said that I need to be open to love. I need to be open to marriage and the things I want. Her biggest regret was not opening her heart up again, and being single / not married all of these years. This happened to her 38 years ago. Isn’t that insane!? I called / talked to both of my parents about it. I have a lot of gratitude right now. I really am grateful for what we shared, the good, the bad, and the ugly. 
I will say looking trough all of those “I remember...” slips was beautiful and tragic. I saw a lot of ones that said things about their first kiss, when they got married, found out they were pregnant, etc. There were a couple that stuck out though, on the less positive side. First, one had said they remember the last time they were happy. The one that hit me the hardest was one that said “I remember when I was loved. Today is my last day”. Absolutely gut wrenching and heart breaking. Someone went into the science center, so broken and lost. Wrote that note, and then left. No one knew that that person was feeling that. I sincerely pray for that person and their family. Living with losing you has been so hard, James. You have no idea. 
I stopped at the gift shop to peruse and ended up buying a shirt. You’d love it. It says “don’t be a triceratops, be a doceritops” get it? I noticed that shopping around they stopped selling your sad shark. They had a bunch of the happy killer whales though. I finished up there and walked up and down the downtown area a few times before making may to my car. I didn’t feel super comfortable with being alone in the city for too long, so I made my way to the highlands where James and I spent a lot of our time. It was lunch time, which means, Silly Axe here I come! (Get it, Celiacs(s) (GF), Silly Axe?) It’s clever. 
I got there and passed a few other places we’d go to. I will likely make another trip out there and get some food at El Nocte (this church turned into a Mexican food restaurant), Carmichaels, etc. So many things to do there. You loved living there. I loved hearing all our stories about your time there. Unfortunately due to short staffing they had a limited menu, but I got a pizza and a couple cinnamon poptarts. Can I just say, amazing. I love their food so much. They would be SO popular in SD. I ate there, and ironically my number was 14. You were totally with me <3. I packed up the left overs and headed back to Lexington to grab stuff for a secret project I am working on. I will disclose once the project is finished, but it was a successful trip!
I headed back to Beth’s and we chatted for a while. I went on a mile run because my body was like #NOPE today. I helped your aunt figure out share screen and how to input activity for the walk, that was funny. Your mom made delicious pot roast with mashed potatoes and side salad. It was INCREDIBLE. Totally hit the spot. I am excited for the leftovers tomorrow.
After that, your mom and I sat and talked for a while. Her and I are very similar people. She is such a strong woman, and I feel grateful to have her in my life. After that, I went upstairs and talked with a friend which was nice. Now I am writing this blog before I try and sleep. It can be hard to sleep the night following a nightmare. Pray that I will, because I know that I need the rest.
Big day tomorrow, it’s your birthday. You would have been 29. 
Bittersweet feelings about tomorrow, but it is nice to be with your family. 
Rest in Peace, James Burton Nichols
10/1/1993 - 7/16/2022
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The Night Father Paul Let You Sit on His Lap
Warning: PRIEST SMUT. Children, avert your eyes. And always use protection IRL.
This is my Secret Santa gift to @see-you-in-a-new-light for the Hamish Linklater holiday event created by the lovely @the-weird-dane
I hope you enjoy! Happy New Year :D
Summary: He laughs again, a little more at ease this time. But his mouth snaps shut so fast it’s almost comical when you adjust yourself and ‘accidentally’ grind down on his lap…
When you come back from the bathroom, your chair at Erin’s long dining table has been taken by the mayor’s wife, Dotty, who, by the sound of her uncharacteristically boisterous retelling of some non-dispute at the convenience store with a pesky tourist last summer, is on her third or fourth glass of wine.
At least.
You’re betting that her rapt audience at the end of the table – her husband, Ed and Maggie Flynn and another elderly couple you don’t know that well – are not far behind.
You smile to yourself, even if you are now standing a little awkwardly in the middle of the room.
It’s good to see the parent generation of Crockett Island letting loose for once.
They deserve it.
When Erin, your old high school friend, had spontaneously gone up to the stage at the Crock Pot earlier today, clapped her hands together to get everyone’s attention and invited people over for drinks and a bite to eat later in the evening, the proposal had initially been met with uncertain side-glances.
It’s been that long since the good people of the island actually socialized with one another outside of church gatherings and said (poorly attended) Crock Pot ‘festivities’.
Beverly Keane, the self-righteous bitch, had had the audacity to snicker out loud at the suggestion, as if she personally couldn’t think of anything more ridiculous than spending her free time in the company of an unmarried pregnant woman (the horror!), and a former convict.
Yes, you hadn’t failed to notice how she had made a point of shooting her nose up at poor Riley too, who had been standing to a side, eyes to the ground, hands shoved deep in his pockets.
It was the new, charismatic priest, Father Paul Hill, who had warmly accepted Erin’s offer, effectively shutting Bev up when he’d proclaimed it a great idea, and that he for one would love to cap off the day in good company with his neighbors.
After that, a decent crowd had followed the priest’s lead (doctor Gunning and her date being notable exceptions), and if you hadn’t already found him quite alluring, watching him all but usher the island dwellers after Erin, beaming like a happy, handsome puppy, would have done the trick.
For someone who’s only supposed to be stationed at the island for a few weeks tops while the old Monsignor Pruitt recovers from illness on the mainland, Paul sure seems keen to get on everyone’s good side in church as well as outside.
Perhaps he’s a little lonely, you think. Him being fairly young and living a life in solitude.
Also, you absolutely wouldn’t blame him, if he felt like hiding from Bev for a few hours, knowing that she would never set foot in Erin’s house…
You have a feeling Bev is trying to make herself a permanent fixture at the priest’s small rectory, probably coming and going as she pleases, considering how she had been bossing Monsignor Pruitt around for the past years.
“I bet she’s totally into Paul. Dreams about him at night and draws little hearts around his name in her burn book and shit like that”, Erin had said, hilariously matter of fact the other day, and you had almost spit out your dinner laughing.
You’re inclined to believe her, though.
All in all, it’s been a nice week on the island for you, spending your holiday catching up with Erin and a couple of your other high school friends, Evelyn and Peter, who have also taken time off to come home.
Or: None of your parents actually live here anymore, having all left after that devastating oil spill, but you still like to return every few years to breathe in the ocean air of the place that shaped you growing up.
And now that both Erin and Riley have moved back more or less permanently, you think you may migrate over more frequently.
Of course, it had been Erin’s suggestion that you, Evelyn and Peter stay with her, like a mini reunion of sorts, and you’re so glad you accepted, even if the last-minute travel expenses were a bit steep.
You have a sneaking suspicion Erin may have put the thing together with Riley’s wellbeing in mind too.
His quiet, haunted demeanor is a constant reminder of how much he’s been through since you last saw him several years ago, and your heart breaks for him a little when you think of how spirited – if not downright cocky – he used to be when you were kids.
Always the charming troublemaker, always trailing after Erin.
It appears he’s still doing the latter. Good for them if they can find a way back to each other after everything the world has thrown at them (and, in Riley's case, everything he has thrown back at it...).
He has been opening up more over the past days, relaxing into the warm company of his old friends, and you regret not openly calling Bev out for giving him dirty looks today.
You, Erin, Evelyn, and Peter (who was Riley’s best friend at school) all feel protective of Riley these days, and you ought to have taken the witch down.
During your childhood, relations between neighbors and colleagues on the island had been less strained. Less burdened down by this odd ‘them and us’ mentality that has seeped into the tiny community and cleanly divided the island into die-hard cult-following believers (cough, Bev, cough), everyday believers and non-believers.
Back in the ‘golden days’ (God, now you sound old), barbecues between friends would turn into impromptu garden parties for everyone who happened to pass by.
There was less vicious gossiping, fewer frontlines being drawn up.
It was, for the most part, a carefree time, before the financial crisis hit in 2008, followed by the oil spill that saw the fishing industry crumble to its knees.
Before Monsignor Pruitt, much like the soul of the island, deteriorated into a permanently confused shadow of his former passionate self on the dais.
Before the likes of Ms. Keane came into power (where had she come from? You can’t remember. She was probably hatched by a dementor and exiled from Azkaban in the early days of time).
Today, many of the houses on Crockett are in dire need of fresh paint. Mailboxes appear even more crooked than when you were a kid and no longer romantically so, weeds creeping across the dirt roads that used to be streets.
If it wasn’t for the two small ferries still sailing stoically back and forth twice a day, you suspect the mainland would have completely forgotten about Crockett a long time ago.
An island out of time.
Perhaps, if only people would make an effort to take care of each other again and not shut themselves away in their homes...
Starting with tonight.
The lively chatter around the dining table and the fact that the adjacent kitchen has also filled up with guests leaning casually against the cupboards, making drinks and laughing (a whole batch of non-believers, Bev!) speak of the possibility of turning things around on Crockett.
If not financially straight away, then for the sake of the community spirit.
And in the middle of it all sits a stranger, already wielding such an influence over his congregations’ faith in both God and one another.
One smooth talker.
And good-looking.
So very good-looking.
Being naturally seductive never hurt anyone trying to get a message across.
You’ve had a hard time taking your eyes off the devout Father since you first saw him at church on Sunday (Erin dragged you all), and today at the Crock Pot when you, Evelyn, and Peter had said a proper hello, explaining that you all knew the old Monsignor, Paul had acted more than happy to meet you.
Walking up to the bench where he sat talking to Riley (who looked like he was about to make a run for it), Evelyn had, less than discreetly, grabbed your arm and squeezed it in the gesture universally known between close single friends as “HOT property straight ahead” – only for the two of you to actually bump your hands together with a loud smack when you both eagerly shot them out to shake Paul’s.
Crockett’s currently best looking though sadly least available bachelor had smiled a little befuddled, while Erin giggled, and Riley and Peter rolled their eyes.
You had blushed bright red, but that had been nothing compared to the feeling when Paul’s large hand finally did close around yours, his fingers brushing against your wrist and sending a very much not unpleasant tingle down your spine.
“We’re having a bit of reunion”, Erin had told the priest, her voice laced with bubbling laughter, and it had taken you a few seconds too many to realize that the source of her amusement was in fact you, holding on to the priest’s hand and gazing up at him with unguarded interest.
Not that he had seemed to mind, though.
Not at all.
His expressive brown eyes had searched your face too with a curiosity that…did things to you.
There was no point in denying it.
When you had withdrawn your hand and Father Paul turned his attention to Evelyn and Peter, you had felt like a cloud put out the sun.
“How wonderful for you all to be back here”, Paul had exclaimed with genuine warmth.
“I imagine this must have been a nice place to grow up, huh? So safe and peaceful.”
Perhaps he was once a small-town kid himself. Or the exact opposite, always longing for big skies and strong winds rustling the curtains of his bedroom.
His bedroom.
There’s a stray thought you won’t be following.
“Hey, Y/N, come sit! We were just about to play our old game!”
You’re brought back to the here and now by Evelyn who’s gesturing at you to come back to the table.
Her and the rest of the ‘gang’ are sat at the other end from the grownups. You’ll always think of them as that, no matter your own age.
Also missing a chair, Evelyn’s now magically perched on Peter’s lap (they always did have a flirt going at school), and Erin is dealing out cards for what you suspect is the version of poker the five of you invented as teens.
There are quite a lot of alternative rules involving shots, as you remember it.
Someone has put on what sounds like an 80’s greatest hits playlist.
Wade, the mayor, most likely.
Who knows what he and Riley’s dad, Ed, got up to when they were the youngsters running wild on the island decades ago?
“No room!” you mouth at Evelyn, who’s quite tipsy and then some and thus not taking no for an answer.
“Y/N, for God’s sake, just sit down anywhere!” she chides you and then, wouldn’t you know it, she wags a finger at the hot priest with the wavy black locks of delicious hair himself, Father Paul.
He’s sat opposite your friends looking a little out of place, even if he’s the one half-responsible for the merriment.
You’re guessing he’s probably not very used to going to parties when it comes to it.
“You can sit there!” Evelyn is saying, gesturing haphazardly at Paul and then at you.
“It’s either sit on his lap, or Riley’s, if we’re going to play.”
Riley looks decidedly alarmed at the suggestion, and so, emboldened by the couple of home-mixed drinks you made in the kitchen first thing when you got here, you turn to Paul and put your hand on your hip.
“Well, Father?” you say, and raise an eyebrow. “Can I?”
Evelyn and the others are suddenly watching the scene with intense interest and you’re grateful for the bad music being so loud or this would have gotten incredibly embarrassing, incredibly fast.
Maybe it already is.
If so, you’re just about tipsy enough yourself to push ahead regardless.
“Uh, um…”
Poor Paul is looking around him for a fast exit that’s not there, and you’re half a second from laughing it off and turning to Riley who’ll just have to man up and not be such a baby about having a girl who’s not Erin sit on his lap, when the priest makes a snap decision that takes everyone by surprise.
“Of course, sure”, he says with a slightly forced nonchalant smile, and pushes his chair back.
“Be my guest.”
A silence falls over the table as all eyes turn.
You’re honestly a little stunned that Paul didn’t just get up and bid you all goodnight, but he may not have wanted it to look like he fled.
And this is so, so much better.
Excitement flutters in your stomach.
Hell yes, you’re going to sit on the hot priest’s lap and drink and play cards with your old friends.
At the parents’ end of the table, several pairs of jaws nearly hit the floor.
This will go down in Crockett lore as the time Y/N, notorious flirt in her young years, came home and shamelessly cozied up to the visiting priest.
Good thing neither you, nor Paul are staying for long.
That’s probably the only reason why the priest dares to be this blasé about it.
Except he’s not, you notice with a thrill, as you sit down on his lap and feel his fast, hot breath on your neck.
He swallows a little when you adjust yourself, legs on either side of his thighs and your back to his chest, so you face your friends on the other side of the table.
You’re wearing a short summer dress (way too summery for the weather), and as the skirt hikes up a bit, your exposed thigh makes contact with the grey denim of Paul’s slim jeans.
Even though your legs are covered by the table, it feels positively wicked, and no doubt most of the people in attendance are thinking the same thing.
Even if the parents are now trying their modest best to resume their own conversation.
For Paul’s sake, you hope nobody will throw about snide comments tomorrow.
He’s just being a friendly, hip young’ish priest, showing that he can, um, accommodate all kinds of worshippers’, um, needs.
Right?
You make yourself snort with laughter and have to fake a cough into the new drink, Evelyn has pushed across the table to you.
Bev would combust into flames if she was to walk in.
“Okay, then! Crock Poker it is!” Erin finishes dealing out cards, and you gingerly take up yours while Peter lists off the ‘rules’, making up a couple of new ones along the way.
“We’re playing together”, you say to Paul over your shoulder, and lean back a little to show him your hand.
If he wanted, he could easily rest his chin on your shoulder in this position.
He doesn’t, of course, but even so the intimacy of it all is making your scalp prickle.
“Um, okay. I’m afraid I’m not great at card games, though.”
The priest laughs a little nervously and you assure him that that’s no problem, you’re not great at it either.
“Which is why I may get a bit drunk from this, with all Peter’s rules. Just giving you a warning”, you grin, winking back at him. “You’ll be my designated driver.”
He laughs again, more at ease this time … but his mouth snaps shut so fast it’s almost comical when you adjust yourself once more and ‘accidentally’ grind down on his lap.
You feel the muscles in his thighs tense under you, and it sends waves of heat straight to your core.
The game commences, and as expected, soon you, Evelyn, and Peter are doing shots while Riley and Erin stick with cola and lime.
Paul has a root beer in front of him on the table, but since you sat down on his lap, he hasn’t reached for it, perhaps because he’d have to reach his arm around your waist, and he seems intent on sitting still as a mouse so not to cause any, well, friction between your bodies.
You, however, have no such qualms, and the more you drink, the more you delight in subtly squeezing your legs around Paul’s thighs, and leaning back just a little further whenever you say something to him, your hair brushing against his black buttoned shirt.
Every time you catch a glimpse of his collar, you feel a shameful rush of adrenaline.
He’s keeping up appearances, but to you there’s no mistaking the way his breath hitches in his throat when you lean forward to pick up a card from the table and then sit back, placing a palm on his thigh to steady yourself.
Again, the table and tablecloth are partly covering your movements, but touching him like this with your hands still feels radical.
You’re straightening up to take a sip of drink when you feel it:
The fingers of his right hand near the hemline of your skirt.
You stiffen for a second and so does he, but when you exhale, his fingers move.
Up.
Slowly pushing under the hemline.
Tracing a slow pattern on your bare flesh.
“So, Paul, tell us about your background! I feel like we don’t know you at all.”
Oh, Evelyn…
Totally oblivious to what’s happening, your friend slaps a card on the table, then looks to Paul with slightly unfocused eyes.
“Well…” Paul shifts a little, but his fingers don’t leave you.
Instead, he suddenly becomes rather talkative while his hand continues on its expedition.
Not so chaste after all…
The secrecy, the dare, is a turn on for him, you realize, as you feel him slowly growing hard.
You’re acutely aware that there’re only a couple of layers of fabric separating his cock from the wetness between your legs.
You lean over the table again to take a card from the stack.
…and grind your ass against his length when you sit up.
He stifles a groan in the middle of a sentence, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smirking.
You feel like the sexiest woman alive, tempting the priest like this in the middle of a room full of people.
But then Erin shatters your little bubble of lustful bliss when she asks you if you’d mind popping out to the shed at the back of the garden to get a few extra bottles of wine for ‘the parents’, who are going through the ones already on the table at an impressive speed.
Yes, Erin, dearest, you think, I do mind.
“You know the house, please, Y/N”, Erin pleads from her spot wedged in between Riley and Peter (who make no attempt to get up, typically).
It’s true. Also, you are seated closest to the door.
But dammit, you don’t want to move off the priest’s lap.
Not that you can say that out loud.
Grudgingly, you get up (Paul has to push the chair back, his hand quickly leaving you), and you try not to look too sullen as you make your way through the kitchen and out the backdoor to the garden.
The cool evening air against your hot cheeks sobers you up a bit, but your thigh all but burns where Paul’s fingers touched you, and your mind is racing.
Who is this guy?
Did he really come to Crockett voluntarily or is he some kind of renegade priest-gone-bad who’s been specifically sent out here to Nowhere Land by the church to atone for sins committed elsewhere?
It definitely didn’t feel like he had never laid hands on a woman before.
When you left the table, he had been offering Evelyn some vague, yet drawn-out cliché about giving thanks for the present and not looking back which would be quite befitting of someone hiding a shady past.
The stars are out, you notice, and you stop in the middle of the garden to look up and take a few deep breaths.
Gazing at the night sky always calms you. Centers you.
Unlike gazing into Paul’s eyes…
“Hey…”
You turn to find the very same Paul coming down the few wooden steps from the house, his footing a little uncertain although he must be stone-cold sober.
At least you think he is.
“Um, I just wanted to see if you needed help carrying something,” he says, running a hand through that gorgeous raven hair of his, and looking a whole lot less self-assured now that it’s just the two of you.
No convenient tablecloth to hide forbidden desires in plain sight.
The air between you is so charged you want to laugh.
Help you carry something?
Yeah, okay, Father.
A moment of near-awkward silence passes as you look at him and try to find the courage to say anything else than a plain “Sure”.
Which is exactly what you end up saying anyway.
Ugh.
You walk to the shed and step inside, looking for the cases of wine on the shelves lining the walls. Leftovers from Erin’s mom, you think bitterly. Good thing they’re being cleared out.
There’s a single lightbulb dangling overhead, but when you reach up to turn it on, Paul is right there behind you, gently taking your wrist.
You gasp in surprise, and he lets go of you.
Then he closes the door and you’re enveloped in darkness.
You can’t see a thing and your heart is beating out of your chest, but before you can ask him what’s going on, the priest speaks, his velvety soft voice very close to your face.
“I’m sorry for what just happened,” he murmurs. “In there. I put you in a very awkward position, and I feel bad for, uh, taking advantage like that. It was very wrong of me. I don’t know what came over me, but I’m truly, terribly sorry. I’m not that kind of man…”
He inhales as if searching for the words.
“…normally.”
You try very hard to steady your own breathing.
“And do you know what’s come over you now, Father? Having locked us in here and turned off the light, I mean?” you ask him, as innocently as you can manage.
“Um, well, I just thought…”
More silence.
Then:
“No. No, I honestly don’t. And I guess there’s no point in being anything but honest.”
It sounds like he’s smiling.
Okay.
This is happening.
Without being able to see, all your other senses are firing at full power, and you feel the change in the air when he moves a little closer still.
His breath ghosts over your face but he doesn’t touch you.
Goosebumps spread all over as it dawns on you that he won’t; he’s waiting for you.
He’s waiting for permission.
You reach a hand out, your fingertips grazing the buttons of his shirt.
His breathing is heavy, but so is yours.
You place both palms on his heaving chest and slowly run them up to his shoulders (he's so tall!), then down his toned arms while he stands perfectly still, letting you feel your way.
Your eyes have adjusted enough to the dark by now that you can see the outline of him, but only just.
You have no idea what expression he’s wearing, but somehow that makes this whole crazy scenario even hotter.
Whether he personally prefers the dark because he thinks he can hide from God or something ridiculous along those lines, you don’t care to know.
He’s here.
Your hands slide down his waist, his belt.
There’s a sharp intake of breath when your fingers play with the buckle and, smiling in the dark, you lean in closer till you can feel him against you. Feel his hardness through the front of his jeans, and the way his arms twitch in his attempt not to move.
Your hands travel upwards again, and he exhales a little – only to stop breathing when you reach his face and lightly trail his features.
You feel his eyelashes flutter shut.
His mouth is slightly open when you brush your thumb over it, but you resist the impulse to see if he’d actually suck on it.
(He would, you know it.)
You weave your fingers through his soft, thick hair while your other hand caresses his cheek. When he leans into your touch with a small sigh, you feel like the blood in your veins has been replaced with sparkling champagne.
There’s really only one thing to say:
“Kiss me.”
And though you can’t see it, you know he has opened his eyes.
His large hands find your hips, gripping you almost tentatively at first, then with more purpose, as you press yourself to him and one of his hands come up to grab a fistful of your hair.
He doesn’t pull, but his grip is not exactly light either and it makes you shiver with want while your walls constrict in anticipation for what’s to come.
Then his lips are on yours, and as the world falls down and you melt into him, there is nothing but his touch in the dark, making you feel like you’ve never been kissed before in your life.
Your tongues meet and you nearly mewl with lust while he digs his fingers into your hip with a force that’s bound to leave blue marks.
Paul’s the one to break the kiss, tugging your head back a little by your hair, and a frustrated moan escapes your lips.
The priest chuckles, his thumb rubbing your sore hipbone.
“Are you sure you want this?”
His voice is hoarse with his own desire.
“Are you kidding me? Fuck, yes,” you answer breathlessly, and he chuckles again.
To hell with the fact that you know absolutely nothing about him, or that you’re standing in Erin’s freaking shed, of all places, with a house full of semi-God-fearing townsfolk and school friends behind you.
If you have to rip open those obscene slim jeans with your teeth, you’ll do it (because, honestly, by buying pants like that he’s pretty much begging for it).
You’re reaching for his belt when a thought enters your mind.
“Wait, have you… have you done this before?” you ask, fingers pausing at the buckle.
What if the man’s a virgin?
In that case, a rushed one-night stand in a garden shed in near darkness may not spell great success.
For either of you.
Also, sober Erin may be onto to you at some point within not too long.
Paul lets go of your hair, both his hands coming to rest on your waist.
“Yes,” he answers after a few seconds, a slight strain in his voice.
You have a million questions.
You don’t ask a single one.
Before you can unbuckle his pants though, he turns slightly away from you, and it feels like he’s reaching for something.
“Wait…” he says. “I thought I saw…”
“You can see in here?” you ask incredulously, and he hesitates for just a beat before assuring you that no, he can’t see a thing.
But before closing the door he did notice a stack of deck chair pillows.
“Oh, you just happened to notice those, did you?” you ask playfully and now you’d wish you could see his face. If he’s blushing or he's cool as a cucumber.
“I think you’ll be happy I did,” comes his reply that’s just the right amount of dry sarcasm and mischievousness to make you even wetter.
He lets go of you, and there’s a sound of him moving some things around on the floor, and then he’s taking your hand, guiding you down onto the pillows he’s spread out.
The man knows his way around tight dark spaces.
You’re taking that as a very good sign.
Paul carefully lays you down on your back, and from there you can actually see him a bit better in the faint, pale moonlight now coming through the spaces around the doorframe.
He’s on his knees, one on either side of you, and this time he doesn’t stop you when you reach up to undo his belt.
His cock is straining against his jeans and from what you can make out of his features, his eyes are hooded with desire as he looks down at you.
Somehow it still feels like he can see you a lot better than you can him, but it must be your imagination.
When voices suddenly reach you from the house, with the kitchen window facing the garden, you’re reminded that you don't have all the time in the world, as much as you’d like to.
“Take off your shirt and collar,” you demand, and with what looks like a slight smirk, Paul obliges, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his shoulders to reveal a very nicely sculpted torso.
The collar he puts down next to you a little more carefully, and you have the good sense not to make any jokes about it.
“Good. Now take off your jeans as well,” you say, and again the priest does as he’s told, and stands up to pull off his boots and socks, then his jeans till he’s standing over you in boxers that barely contain his erection.
With rays of moonlight illuminating parts of his pale skin, accentuating his build, he looks more divine than any god you know.
And slightly dangerous, too.
You don’t know why it comes to you, but it does, and it’s there:
Something within the priest is not quite right.
Besides the obvious breaking of sacred vows, he’s currently engaging in, that is.
You don’t have time to reflect on it though, as Paul now kneels between your legs and slowly pushes your dress up around your waist, then pulls it over your head (taking your bra with it!), revealing your breasts and soaked panties to him.
Hopefully he can’t see as much, but he can sure feel it when he traces the wetness with his fingers, humming appreciatively as he does so.
“Such an eager little lamb…” he muses, and you would have giggled were it not for how swiftly he pulls the garment down and off your legs, one of his knees spreading your thighs wider as soon as your most intimate parts are exposed.
“I think I would have loved to toy with you, to please you in all the way you should be pleased, but I’m afraid our time here may be rather limited…” he whispers, lowering himself down so he’s resting on his arms, his lips leaving kisses down your collarbone, the curves of your breasts...
“… which is why I’ll have to fuck you fast, now.”
Before you can respond – or gasp again – he covers your mouth with his hand.
“And you’ll stay very quiet while I do that, of course. We can’t risk ruining the party.”
His tone is at once both playful and slightly menacing, like he’s on a bit of a power rush.
Somehow it aligns very well with his intense magnetism at church.
He’s a man who loves to lead the way.
“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” he’s asking you now, and you can only swallow and nod, assuming he can see you.
“I knew you would.”
He removes his hand from your mouth, which he instead covers with his own.
His kiss is hungry, possessive, and when you put your arms around his neck, he breaks away to grab your wrists and pin them over your head, using one hand to hold them there, while his other finds your throbbing sex.
You arch your back off the pillows and bite your bottom lip to keep from crying out when two fingers part your slick folds, but when he proceeds to penetrate you, pumping his fingers gently in and out, you can’t stifle a desperate whimper.
You’re so turned on, you can already feel the coil tightening in your core, and when you squeeze your walls around the priest’s fingers, he’s the one trying not to moan.
“Don’t worry, I won’t deny you what you need”, he pants, removing his fingers from you so he can pull off his own underwear and settle between your legs.
He’s still holding your wrists, so you can only squirm under him when he aligns himself against your entrance and very slowly, so slowly you think you’ll lose your mind, pushes his cock into you.
It’s for your benefit though – he’s so big it actually hurts a bit when he stretches you, and you try to remember to breathe to accommodate him better.
“That’s it,” he praises you between his own gasps. “Just take it all, like that.”
The muscles in his shoulders and arms tense hard from refraining to thrust into you before you’re ready, but you’re so overcome with thirst for him that every delaying effort makes you want to scream.
“Please, Paul,” you moan, straining against his hold on your wrists.
His eyes immediately find yours and his movements stop.
Oh god, is he thinking you want him to stop?
You look him dead in the eyes.
“Just fuck me, Father. Hard.”
He kisses you again, then whispers:
“Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?” but you can tell he’s smiling, even if he’s too close for you to see it.
You’re about to say something back, when he pushes all the way into you, filling you so perfectly it’s nearly enough to make you lose it right then and there.
As if he can tell, the priest tightens his grip on your wrists in warning.
“Oh, you’re not allowed to come before I say so, okay?”
You nod, remembering to keep quiet for him like a good girl, and he starts thrusting into you with deep, hard blows that knocks the air out of your lungs every time his hips snap against yours.
You’ve never been fucked like this before, but you never want him to stop.
And yet you know he has to, soon.
He knows it too, and when he reaches a hand down between your bodies to massage your clit, you think he’s going to let you come.
“Ughhh, yes, please”, you beg, not able to hold it in, as Paul works you quickly towards the edge.
But he’s not letting you off that easy.
A devilish glint flashes in the priest’s eyes, and he pulls out of you, quickly flipping you onto your stomach on the pillows, and then grabbing your hips to pull your ass up.
“I didn’t tell you you could come yet, did I?” he growls, pressing his cock past your dripping entrance again, and you scramble to get up on your elbows.
“Well, did I?” he’s asking you, pushing deep inside you.
“No,” you gasp.
Then, throwing caution to the wind, you add:
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”
You feel his cock twitch inside you, and he tightens his grip on your hips.
“What did you just say?” he asks through clenched teeth, his breathing ragged, thrusts slowing to a halt.
“Forgive me, Father”, you mewl, going with it.
“I have sinned and need to be punis---” The last word is hardly more than a muffled sound as he thrusts into you so hard, your face is pushed into the pillows.
“You are a little sinner, aren’t you?” he rasps, gamely playing along, and as in reward, he reaches around your body to tease your swollen bundle of nerves while continuing his thrusts.
His fingers are slick from sweat and your juices, and they slip and slide over your clit while you fist into the pillows and whimper pathetically, trying not to come before he gives you permission.
He’s clearly enjoying delaying your pleasure, but finally – finally – he bends forward, plants a kiss on your glistening back, and speaks the words.
“Now, little lamb, now you can come for me. Come for me, and I’ll absolve you of your sins.”
His fingers don’t stop moving over your overstimulated nub and you come so hard you can’t hold yourself up anymore, exploding stars blinding your mind.
He fucks you through your orgasm while you writhe under him, and only when you’re completely spent, your body going limp on the pillows, does he let go himself, gasping as he spills his seed inside you.
For a while, none of you move, your labored breathing filling the shed, but then there’s a sound outside and you both start, Paul pulling out of you and straightening up.
Someone just opened the backdoor to the garden.
“Fuckfuckfuck!” you mutter and push yourself up to you knees, desperately searching for your panties on the floor.
Paul is a lot more efficient.
Somehow, he’s up in a flash, pulling on his boxers and handing you your underwear, and by the time you’ve managed to get hold of your dress and pull it over your head, he appears to be all dressed.
How?!
There are at least a thousand buttons on his shirt for christsake!
“Y/N,” he whispers urgently, grabbing your arm and pulling you in close as steps approach the shed.
He smells of sex and aftershave and something that’s just him, and the blend is intoxicating.
You have to actively shake your head to focus.
“Say that I left. That I went home.”
So dominant just minutes ago and now legitimately frightened to being found out.
You want to whisper back something smart about him maybe not thinking things through before stripping off in someone’s back yard, but then the door to the shed is being opened, and Paul steps behind it, shielding himself from sight.
Evelyn, who else, pops her head in, squinting in the darkness.
“Helloooo”, she croons, having crossed over from tipsy to plastered since you last saw her.
“What on Earth are you doing out here, Y/N?? Erin sent me to rescue you…and the wine. Or maybe she just sent me to get wine…”
You’re so relieved you don’t have to deal with Erin or Riley asking actual sober person questions that you laugh and put an arm around your friend, gently steering her out of the shed again as she tries to cross the threshold.
“Thank you, Evie, for rescuing me. I was just, um, deciding which bottles to bring in. So much stuff out here, you know”.
Evelyn nods dramatically.
“Yes. Very sad,” she slurs. “You know what else is sad, Y/N? The hot priest left! Didn’t even say goodbye…”
“Oh?” you respond, trying to sound casual, but you might as well not have bothered. Evelyn is already moving on.
“But! But, Y/N, look at the moooon!”
She staggers into the middle of the garden to look up, swaying dangerously from side to side.
You hastily step back inside the shed and look around you for the wine, but Paul shoves four bottles into your arms before you can get your bearings.
Again, how?!
He pushes the door closed with his foot, and takes your face in his hands, kissing you.
You pray Evelyn is as drunk as she looks and sounds.
“Thank you,” he whispers. “This was a rare gift.”
He brushes a lock of hair out of your face, and you want to touch him so badly, but you have the stupid bottles to hold on to.
“I thought so, too,” you reply, not wanting this to be your last exchange.
You’re trying to think of something else to say, but he beats you to it.
“Um, maybe, if you want, and you don’t wake tomorrow with a paralyzing moral hangover, you could come by the rectory sometime during the day? Just to talk, I mean. I feel like we…skipped past the talking part rather quickly tonight.”
His hands are by his sides now. Something about that feels so wrong, so demonstrably distant, seeing as your naked bodies were just pressed against each other.
And his cum is leaking into your underwear.
“Please touch me…”, you whisper, and he immediately puts his arms around you.
“I’ll come by,” you smile up at him, certain that he can see you, even if you can’t see his face now the door has closed behind you again.
“I’d love to talk. I’m sure you’ve got some fascinating stories to share.”
He chuckles softly.
“See you tomorrow then,” he says, planting a parting kiss on your nose in a gesture so sweet, it feels as intimate as the fucking you did on the floor.
You giggle like a schoolgirl.
“Okay, Resident Hot Priest of Crockett. Sweet dreams till then.”
You leave the shed and find Evelyn twirling on the grass, still looking up at the sky.
“The moon is fuuull, Y/N, have you seen? I think me and Petey are finally gonna do it tonight. Full moons make people SO HORNY!!!”
She shouts the last part at the top of her lungs into the night, and you nearly drop the bottles laughing.
Things are definitely looking up on Crockett Island, you're sure of it.
Thank you for reading!
You can check out my other Father Paul and John Tyler smut fics here:
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borathae · 2 years
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↳ Index [Drabble 03 - Pain Relief]
“When your husband is the best pain relief.” 
Genre: married life!AU, expecting parents!AU, Fluff 
Warnings: OC is heavily pregnant, Taehyung is the best father & husband ever, cuddles & kisses
Wordcount: 1k
a/n: I saw a video about it and I thought that this is 100% something ihyily!Tae would try out on OC 🥺💜
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Ever since that one fateful night where his beautiful, amazing, ethereal, perfect wife peed on that one stupid piece of plastic and twenty minutes later two red lines appeared, Taehyung spent many hours in his office skimming through parenting and pregnancy books instead of working. He should have worked, but he just couldn’t. His mind was running on nothing else but his beautiful, amazing, ethereal, perfect wife and their little baby daughter in her beautiful, amazing, ethereal, perfect womb. His friends jokingly say that he is acting more pregnant than his wife does, but Taehyung doesn’t mind because he feels it too. His brain is all scrambled and his emotions are all heightened and ever since a few weeks he started to get terrible feet aches. Again, his friends truly make many jokes about it and they mean it in the fondest of ways.
These days, eight months and ten days after that fateful night, Taehyung is spending an obsessive amount of time researching and reading and practicing to make sure that he will be the best father in history and an even more amazing husband to his beautiful, amazing, ethereal, perfect wife. He was still working while you are on official maternity leave at home, resting and relaxing just as you deserve. Taehyung couldn’t wait anymore. Only four more days to go and Taehyung will leave for his official maternity leave as well as he not only wants to help you in your last weeks of pregnancy but he also wants to be there for you and his daughter afterwards. Given how he was the CEO of his company and he knew of his employees' impressive work competence, he wasn’t afraid of going on a break. He was just a little nervous, because he never really went on breaks before and it feels weird to imagine that he won’t be at the company for the next year of his life. But as weird as it feels, it feels a hundred times more exciting because he knows that he will spend the next year of his life with his family and that was truly everything he ever dreamed of. 
Taehyung closes the book he is currently reading.
“Okay this is such a good idea. Why did I never think of that before?" he mumbles to himself, making a promise to himself to test out what he had just read once he is home. 
He reads many books these days, he really does. But his favourites are the ones about pregnancies. The ones talking about what to do to keep the expecting mother as comfortable and healthy as possible to be more specific. Truly, there were many occasions where Taehyung surprised you with random trivia and knowledge on what to do in certain situations and they all turned out to be the right solution. Yes, those random facts and trivia were also fuel for your friends' many fond jokes. 
Today he learned something new again and he is very excited to test it out on you once he is home. 
Taehyung looks at his watch. One more hour to go. Taehyung looks at the contracts on his desk. That is still enough time to do some actual work-related work. Taehyung reaches for the contracts and begins reading through them. 
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“___ darling I’m home!” Taehyung calls out, slipping out of his shoes and storing them in your shared shoe closet. 
“Upstairs!” you answer him. 
Taehyung smiles, thinking of the little thing he is going to test out very soon, and slips out of his coat to hang it on its hanger. 
He greets Misses Choi, who is sticking her head out of the kitchen with promises of dinner soon, and then ascends the stairs in big steps, taking two at a time. 
He knows exactly where he can find you. The babyroom. It was once a guest bedroom, but you and him decided to redecorate it for your little princess. Although you and him plan on sleeping with her in the same bed for as long as possible, you still want to be prepared for when she is old enough to sleep in her own room. 
The door to the babyroom is open. Taehyung steps inside, watching you for a moment. 
There you are. Hair a complete mess, back turned to him and with the comfiest and stretchiest onesie hugging your body. You are singing to the song on your speaker. Jazz. Taehyung helped you develop a great liking for that music genre.
Taehyung smiles, playing with the golden ring on his finger. He is so lucky. You are truly the most beautiful woman on earth. 
“Hey darling”, he greets you.
You turn, giving him a happy smile. 
“Hey darling, how was work?” you ask him, waddling over to him to kiss his lips. 
Taehyung kisses you back happily, smoothing out your hair and sighing happily. Once the kiss breaks, he squats down and places a kiss on your baby belly as well, making you giggle with it. 
“Hello my princess, how are you doing?” he asks your belly, kissing it a second time.
“I’ll never get tired of you doing that”, you say, petting his hair, “she kicked a lot today, I’m sure she’ll do it in bed too. You can feel it then.”
Taehyung loves resting his hand on your belly when you and him are cuddled up for sleep. You spent many hours in that position. You the little spoon and Taehyung the big spoon with his hand on your belly and happy giggles rumbling in his chest each time your little daughter kicked. 
“Oh my god I want to feel it now. Hey princess can you kick for daddy?”, he asks. 
"You're so silly", you say and laugh.
He agrees with a hum, resting his ear against your belly to listen for the heartbeat. He closes his eyes and smiles, caressing your hips and lower back. It is almost inaudible, barely there, but Taehyung still hears it. Perhaps he is imagining it however, but either way he is so happy to be home with you again.
“How was work darling?” you ask him, watching him with fondness in your eyes. 
“It was alright”, he says and stands up. He keeps his hand on your belly, rubbing it softly. 
“Yeah? Did you get any work done or did you just read again?” you tease him, turning back around to return to what you were doing before. 
“Hey, mean”, he says but chuckles, “as a matter of fact, I actually did get something done. Some contracts and stuff.” 
“Mhm, that’s good. I’m proud of you.”
Taehyung watches you waddle back and forth between the pile of unfolded baby clothes and the stack of already folded clothes. Every now and then he can watch you pause to rub your lower back and wince in discomfort. It normally makes him feel really bad because he knows how terrible your back aches have become lately, but not tonight. Tonight he has a solution. 
You are currently standing in front of the dresser, folding some tiny, little t-shirts before placing them in the opened drawers. 
Now it’s his time. 
With a racing heart he closes the distance between you and him, wrapping his arms around you. 
“What are you-”, you stop talking. Taehyung just placed his hands under your heavy belly and is now lifting it with uttermost care just how he had read in his book. 
You stumble back into him, letting your head plop against his chest and closing your eyes. You laugh breathlessly, placing your hands over his’.
“Taehyung….thank you”, you sigh. 
“I read about it today. Does it help?” he asks, having his eyes closed as well and his chin resting atop your shoulder. 
“This feels like you just lifted a million pounds from my back.”
Taehyung smiles and kisses your neck. 
“Please don’t stop.” 
“I won’t darling”, he promises and melts closer.
You sigh and Taehyung can hear just how much weight you shed off with the help of it. His heart flutters in happiness. Finally he is able to help you relieve some of that pain.
“I love you Tae”, you whisper. 
“I love you too, ___”, whispers back.
Taehyung makes a promise to himself in that moment, from now on he will do this as often as you need it from him.
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clouds-rambles · 3 years
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AHH I FORGOT TO PUT A CHARACTER IN :") and ty for explaining afab etc, and i would like to request albedo and maybe diluc aswell thaank you!
It’s absolutely no problem my dear! And no problem, ik some of the terms are weird first time hearing!
Anyways I’m back & I had a decent couple days off!
I’m adding Zhongli too bc I love him <3
Hi guys tysm for 200 folowers!!
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Pairings; (Seperate) Diluc, Albedo and Zhongli x reader
Warning(s); fluff, the lack of not sfw is actually a little funny I got soft for pregnancy headcanons :’)
Keep reading under the cut!
Diluc
He’s scared to ask about having kids. He remembers you mentioning wanting kids when you both first started dating 4 years ago, but the nervousness of losing not only you but also a hypothetical child overwhelms Diluc a little
“Diluc, what’s wrong?” you ask seeing him down
“I think I want kids”  he reply's and you grin at him and embrace him
“Oh love that’s great news!” you kiss his cheek between words
Diluc is a bit awkward when if comes to sex the first couple of times, he feels like there’s an extra pressure on him to impregnate you. You’re quick to pull the awkwardness out of the experience. You remind him that he’s done this with you countless times before
About four months into trying you notice that you’ve skipped your third period in a row. Even if you irregularly bleed you often have a sense on when your periods are due to your temperament
You don’t say anything to Diluc until you know for sure, so a visit to the Cathedral for a diagnosis
Barbara comes back to you with a happy smile on her face “You’re pregnant [name]!” 
You can’t hide your excitement much so instead of waiting for Diluc to come home from his shift you barge into the tavern and pull your partner out the back of the tavern. You don’t care much for the conversation that he’s having with Rosaria
“Is something wrong?” Diluc asks concerned, you shake your head with a grin
“You’re going to be a daddy” you tell him excitedly. Diluc’s face lights up and showers you in kisses
The pregnancy is long, not abnormally long, the sisters tell you that you’re coming along at a great speed. But your natural need for adventure is put on hold for 9 months
Summer was the worst for you, sweating at every moment. You half curse Diluc for not conceiving the baby a little later then you did, considering that your in the last leg of pregnancy in the heat of summer
Diluc does his best to help at this stage but he’s a walking heater which really doesn’t help the situation. 
You often are found laying about with a few mist flowers on your person
Then comes the fateful day. You were taking your morning walk around the winery. Diluc had decided to join you today, he had decided that his papers can take a break so he can walk about with you
“Diluc”
“Yes love?”
“My waters just broke” 
Your labour pains begin not long after getting back to the house. Diluc sends for the sisters and paces alongside you. He keeps trying to coerce you to lay, or at least sit but you tell him that you need a way to work through the pain
The sisters arrive within the hour and within the next you have a small child bundled in your tired arms
“He’s perfect” Diluc tells you looking from his new born son then to you, he kisses your forehead “You did so well”
“Thank you love” you smile up at him then at your son “We can name him when I’m less delirious” you jest, Diluc nods with a smile
“Of course”
Albedo
The thought of children has never really crossed Albedo’s mind. Mostly because of his occupation of constantly being in the mountains and the fact that he pretty much sees Klee as his own
You have to be the first to bring it up for Albedo to start contemplating it
Five years into your relationship is when you bring it up seriously. And Albedo is more than happy to oblige to your request
Though as the months pass of you both trying to conceive the idea of having a child to call his own grows in his mind. He wonders what kind of traits the child would receive from him and what traits the child would receive from you. Albedo finds his mind wondering to how if he had more children how different they’d all be
Albedo is the first to notice your potential pregnancy. One day over dinner he’ll just spontaneously go “[name], are you aware you haven’t had a period in four months?” 
“Oh, uh I hadn’t really been keeping track”
After dinner you both decide to take a test to see if the insinuation over dinner is true
Albedo stands outside the room as you pee into a cup and check the swab
“Albedo!”
“Something wrong?”
You open the door to greet your partners face who was just about to open the door himself. There’s an unspoken silence for a beat or two before you wrap your arms around him
“We’re going to be parents”
Albedo is kind of just stood there like ‘omg omg omg’
Having the heaviest part of your pregnancy during the winter is almost a god send. Being able to huddle and cuddle and be cozy. 
Albedo often spends his free time with his head beside your stomach telling the baby inside storys and his current experiments. It’s cute
Albedo will grin to himself when he feels the kick of feet and the punches of tiny hands.
Your pregnancy is heavy, even compared to your friends who have already had children. You mind often wonders to the idea of twins
The fateful day that you wont soon forget. Your waters break while you’re in the lab and the contractions start almost immediately
“Holy shit, Albedo this baby is begging to come out” Albedo is at your side with a softness rare to see. He guides you to the sofa in the lab.
As much as Albedo wants to be the one delivering his child his distinct lack of knowledge in the field causes him to call Sucrose to run and get the sisters
It’s not long after the sisters arrive you’re pushing out a child. Exhausted you hold you son with a smile on your face
“[name], you’re not out of the dark yet, you’ve got another coming” the sister tells you
And soon enough the second baby is born and nestled in your other arm
You look up at Albedo who looks at his two sons with a content smile on his face
“Well done” he compliments, catching you watching him. You smile at him “I am so lucky”
“Here hold one of your sons” you tell him gesturing to the babe closer to him. 
Albedo panics for a moment, the thought of holding a small human in his arms scares him. Especially after reading all about babies weak spots and infant mortality cases
“It’s okay” you console reading the worry over his face “I know that you’re going to be a great Daddy to these boys” you console
Albedo caves and holds one of his sons with such delicacy and care you’ve never seen him exert. 
You can’t help but cry when you see Albedo’s eyes tear up when the son holds onto his finger. You kiss the forehead of the babe in your arms and just continue crying with happiness
Zhongli
You had both discussed before getting married that having kids is a dream of both of yours. Despite your adventuring spirit Zhongli would be more than happy to be a good house husband as you pursue your dreams
That was nine years ago, you already have an amazing daughter who runs about Liyue with the audacity of a child of a god. The thought of having another has been in the air for the last year and a half and Zhongli is more than happy to oblige
With your eldest in the care of chaotic Aunty Hu Tao your week away to Wangshu Inn is the perfect conceiving excuse
And with the luck of the gods you are blessed with another pregnancy. 
When you eventually find out five months later, you keep the secret for a few extra days until you sit down both Zhongli and your daughter down over lunch
“I have some big news to share”
“What is it mummy?”
“Well I’m pregnant” you announce. Your husbands eyes widens and he grins at you
“What does that mean?” your daughter asks, Zhongli decides to answer for you still on the high of the news
“That means you’re going to have a baby brother or sister”
Zhongli puts his daughter on ‘mummy watch duty’ for most of the pregnancy. Her little feet try to help as much as humanely possible be it from helping with the washing to helping making food
Considering how unusual it is to be home for such extended periods of time both Zhongli and your eldest love seeing you so much. So much so you’re pretty sure you’ve seen every nook and cranny across Liyue Harbour that your daughter has found
Zhongli tries not to take much time off, but more often than not, he finds himself working half days and spending afternoons sat with you reading or playing 
Your heaviest is spring, it’s nice. Usually this time of the year is holiday time where you take your family to random places in Liyue that you love. Though this year you find yourself confined to the Harbour which is abnormal and makes you feel a little claustrophobic
Through the year you learn that Zhongli’s adepti often come and visit him, and by extension you. Dinners with the adepti are always nice, you often find yourself living vicariously through Xiao when he tells you about where he’s been lately
It’s funny to see how Uncle Xiao interacts with your eldest, you even hazard to wonder if he’ll hold your newborn this time. 
Whenever Ganyu is over she mostly plays about with your eldest and converses to you about how your pregnancy is going, much like how you vicariously live through Xiao, you sense that Ganyu has some pregnancy envy. Be it from the time off you get or the fact the pregnancy ends with children. Aunty Ganyu will forever be content with being an aunt to yours and Zhongli’s kids though
You’re having tea with Zhongli and his friend Childe when your waters break
“Childe”
“Yes?”
“Could you go to the pharmacy and grab a nurse please?”
“Why?
“She’ll know what’s up. Zhongli?”
“Yes my love?”
“Help me home please”
How are you the calmest here? Zhongli is panicking trying to keep everything in order, he checks in with you often to make sure you’re comfortable on the bed. Ganyu had randomly appeared and takes your eldest off your hands
A nurse appears and helps you through the process. And without much thought you have another daughter in your arms within the hour
“[name] I cannot get over how calm you were”
“My love, with the amount of times I’ve found myself with wounds, staying calm is the best thing I can do”
Zhongli holds his small new born in his arms, she’s wearing the clothes your eldest wore when she was born. Zhongli wanted to buy more clothes but you desperately wanted your new born to have the same comfort your eldest had
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ooops-i-arted · 2 years
Note
Headcanon: How Din and Cara’s undying love for both each other and for their people grew during her pregnancy with their first-born daughter.
Anonymous asked: How would Din Djarin react to Cara’s pregnancy with their first-born daughter? How would Grogu react?
Now these I had enough ideas for to get fic out of it! Hope you enjoy. Also on AO3, but the link feature is being weird for me right now. See my pinned post for a link to my AO3.
-
Din returned to his family’s private quarters, head still buzzing with the discussions from the council meeting and reminders to himself to talk to Master Skywalker about the next stage of Grogu’s training and those warriors Boba had requested on Tatooine to help push back against Crimson Dawn’s attempts to gain a foothold on that planet.  Grogu was out with the other children for a few more hours, but at least he could see Cara.  Talking to her always eased his thoughts.  But when he stepped inside he found her sitting on the bed, staring at some hologram in her hands.  “Cara?”
She about jumped a mile, something he didn’t think he’d ever seen before.  “Just me,” he said.  Did she seem paler than usual?  “What is it?”
“Um,” she said, looking between him and the hologram she’d just shut off.  “I, um…”
Din set his helmet aside, sitting on the bed with her.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a loss for words before,” he teased gently.
“It’s, um,” she stammered.  “It’s something to lose words over.  Sleep over.  Everything.”
“Like your lunch?  Are you still feeling nauseous?”  He tucked a loose strand of hair before her ear; she hadn’t even fixed her usual braid today.  “Did you see one of the medics?”
“Yeah, I did, actually,” she said, fidgeting with the puck in her hands.
She didn’t say anything more, so he finally prompted, “And?”
Cara lit the hologram, the image of some tiny dot floating in a bean shape.  “I’m pregnant.”
Din stared, and suddenly the tiny dot wasn’t just a dot anymore.  “You… you are?!”
“Yeah,” Cara said, nodding.
He was hugging her before he was even aware of what he was doing.  He needed her in his arms.  “Kando’sii’la, cyare.  Cuun ad…”
Cara clung to him, shaking a bit.  “Din, Din this… this is…”
He stroked her hair.  “Talk to me.”
She pulled back to look at him.  “Din, this will be a whole - a whole ’nother person!  And we have to feed it and clean its shit and keep it alive and… dank farrik, how the hell am I supposed to do that?!”
He wiped a bit of moisture from her eye with his thumb.  “Same way we did for Grogu.”
Cara looked down at the hologram.  “What if I’m not good enough?”
Din caught her chin, gently guiding her to look at him.  “You will be.  You’re already amazing with Grogu.”
“I dropped him in the privy last month.”
“It’s Grogu.  We couldn’t have stopped him once he got the thought in his head.  But you fished him back out, right?”
“Yeah…”
“You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.  You can do anything you put your mind to.  And if you want this, I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
She finally smiled a bit.  “Well.  If I have you… I think I could do it.”
“You’re sure?” Din asked, stroking her cheek.
“Stars, I’m terrified of messing them up.  Can’t say I’m thrilled about losing my body for most of a year either.  But yes… Yes, I want this.  With you.”
Din kissed her, then pressed their foreheads together.  “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Cara Dune.”
“I love you too,” she said, and when she leaned in to hug him, he held her tight.
-
Cara didn’t want to spread the news around.  Not yet.  Right now it was her and Din’s secret, and she was fine with that.  She already could barely wrap her head around it - around the idea of having a baby.  She could hardly imagine telling all of Mandalore.  Especially when there were plenty of Mandalorians out there who disdained their Mand’alor for taking a non-Mandalorian riduur.  The last thing she wanted was to bring Din political trouble when things had finally settled down.
But it was hard to hide the fact she couldn’t make it through a council meeting without having to leave to pee or throw up these days.  Or Din, bless his heart, constantly trying to offer her stomach-settling snacks and an extra cushion for her seat or grabbing anything heavier than three pounds to carry for her, and generally doting on her like a nesting thranta.
The day Grogu sat on her lap and patted her belly obsessively was the day Paz jokingly said, “I think he’s asking you for a sibling,” and she and Din’s long look at each other as they tried to figure out how to answer that, was the day the council was told.  One of the palace workers leaked it to the gossip rags before she and Din had managed to pen the official announcement.
Cara lay in bed that evening with Grogu tucked in her arm, scrolling through holochannels to try and find a news broadcast that was reporting on something important instead of the Mand’alor’s impending heir.  “You never like to do things the easy way, do you, buddy?”
“Patu,” Grogu said agreeably.
-
Cara had thought at least it was out.  But then the council decided they should make a formal announcement to the people of Mandalore.
“The entire fucking galaxy knows I’ve been knocked up,” Cara snorted.
“I’ve done a lot of ceremonial bullshit to please the remaining New Mandalorians,” said Din sharply.  “I draw the line at parading around my family like they’re the newest exhibit at the Corellian Zoo.”
“It’s not just the New Mandalorians it’s pleasing, though,” said the Wren representative.  “Every time there’s been a formal function, the people of Mandalore have stated it’s enjoyed.  They like seeing their ruler and his family.”
“As Mand’alor, you must lead our people by example,” said the Armorer.  “Not just in battle, either.  And isn’t a new member of your clan something all of Mandalore should celebrate?”
Of course once the Armorer thought it was a good idea, that was what finally persuaded Din.  So the beskar was polished, out came his gilded underarmor and finest cloak, and as for Cara she somehow managed to squeeze herself into the loosest Alderaanian dress she had and topped it with her own pauldron and some formal braids, and off they went.
It went well enough, though Cara could barely remember to smile and spew her lines with the dress pinching in places it never did before and her ankles weirdly achey and her stomach both starving and nauseous at the same time.  She was fine with holding Grogu and letting Din do the majority of the talking and was just grateful when she could lay down and relax with her boys on either side of her.
It was in a few days when the first box arrived.  “From Clan Senn, for the new ad of the Mand’alor and his riduur.”
Cara and Din, interrupted from lunch, glanced at each other in confusion.  “Senn?” Din asked.
“A clan under House Kast.  They live in the city here, and have sent this gift.”  The courier opened the box, and they peered inside.  Nestled within a soft blanket were a few holodiscs of children’s books, a toy block set, and a note: For the newest member of Clan Djarin.  Oya Mand’alor bal riduur!
“Do Mandalorians do baby showers?” Cara asked.
“Why would you shower a baby?” Din asked, confused.  “Don’t you usually give them baths?”
Cara couldn’t stifle her giggle.  “No, it’s a party for an expecting parent, so they can receive gifts for the new baby.”
“No,” Din said.  “No, they just sent this out of kindness.”  He asked the courier to wait, so he could send a message of thanks back to Clan Senn.
Then another box came.  And another.  Then more until there was a line of couriers waiting to meet with them and Din and Cara had to start splitting duties when it came to receiving them.  Families all over the reclaimed planet were sending gifts - toys and blankets and clothes and diapers, notes from experienced mothers full of advice, messages from other expecting parents who were excited to be on the same journey and had words of encouragement, and even a very sweet drawing from a young child who had drawn Cara with a baby in her arms.  Cara put that one in their room, next to all the holopics of Grogu being cute, the ones of her and Din together, and of course the holoscans the medical droid did of her growing child.
-
Din had tried not to stress over the various announcements and formalities and logistics that came with a new baby; Cara did that enough and she needed less stress, not more.  He handled her royal duties as needed when she was nauseous or just plain tired, he went over the details of converting the side room into a nursery and did any manual labor before Cara could get to it, and he did his best to be a caring husband and rub her feet or bring her whatever snack she was craving whenever she looked the least bit put out.  But there was one thing they both worried over together, the most important announcement of all:  telling Grogu.
Grogu knew something was up.  He was fascinated by Cara’s belly and now that she was actually showing he was constantly wanting to touch it or snuggle up to her side and just stare.  Luke told them that Grogu sensed there was something there with his powers, but he didn’t understand that he sensed a still-developing life.  He didn’t realize it was a new sibling yet.
They must’ve rehearsed a dozen times before Din and Cara finally sat Grogu down on the couch with them one evening.  He immediately crawled onto Cara’s lap, patting her rounded stomach and cooing curiously.
“You’ve been wondering what’s in there, huh?” Din asked him.
Yes, Grogu signed.
“Your mama and I have something to tell you,” Din said.  The ears perked up; that was always a good sign, and he looked over at Cara.
She smiled softly down at their first son.  “We’re having a baby.  You’re going to be a big brother.”  She took his tiny hand and pressed it against her stomach, before showing him the sign for baby and folding his little fingers into the same sign.
Grogu blinked, signing Baby and patting her belly a few times before signing Where egg?
“Egg?” Din asked, confused; a look at Cara showed she was just as boggled.
Need egg, Grogu signed.  He started looking frustrated and signed Frog egg no eat egg open tadpole.
“Oh!”  Din stifled a laugh.  “No, not like the nice frog lady we transported.  For humans the baby grows inside the mama’s tummy.”
Grogu patted Cara’s stomach, eyes going wide.  “Yes,” Cara said.  “Yes, the baby’s in there.  Your new brother or sister.”
At first Din smiled as Grogu pressed his hands to Cara’s stomach.  Then he recognized the narrowing eyes and look of concentration.  “No!” he shouted, snatching Grogu off Cara’s lap.
Grogu squeaked, ears pinning down.  “No, no Force on Mama or the baby,” Din said firmly.  Grogu’s lip wobbled and Din held him close with a sigh, rubbing his back.  “I know you didn’t mean anything bad, buddy, it’s okay.”
Grogu squirmed enough to get his hands out.  Baby out, he signed.
“No, it’s not ready yet,” Cara said, taking Grogu from Din and holding him close, letting him touch her belly again.  “The baby is still growing.  When it’s ready, it will come out.”
Grogu baby play? Grogu asked.
“Yes,” Cara said with a smile.  “You and the baby can play.  It will have to grow and learn, but you two will play and be best friends.  You will be their special ori’vod, their big brother.”
Grogu looked down, then squirmed down to cuddle against her belly.  Din felt his heart melting and knew, no matter how long he lived, he would never forget this moment with his clan.  His family.
Baby out how? Grogu signed after a moment.
“Ask your father,” Cara said.
-
Cara lay awake at night.  It was happening more and more often.  She was always nervous.  Din constantly told her she was already a wonderful mother to Grogu, and there was no one else he wanted to raise a child with, but no matter how many times he said it, the fluttering feeling in her stomach kept coming back.
The dreams didn’t help either.  She hadn’t dreamed so much of her family, of Alderaan, since its destruction.  The thought sent a quick pressure against her gut, almost like she’d been kicked.
She sat up, pressing her hand to her stomach.  And then she felt it again, so light she felt like she could have imagined it.  But no, that was definitely a kick.
There was no way to see them, unless she demanded the medical droid do a scan right now.  But she knew it was her baby.  Her baby was moving.
“Cara?” Din asked sleepily.  “What is it?”
“They’re kicking,” she told him, still hardly able to believe it.
Din sat up.  “The baby?”
“Well it wasn’t you this time,” Cara teased with a chuckle.
Din sat up, pressing his hand to the swell of her belly.  Cara felt movement again and Din gasped in surprise.  “I felt something!”
“Guess something made them wake up and start combat practice,” Cara said, twining her fingers with his.
“You were dreaming again, weren’t you,” Din said, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.
She sighed, but nodded.  “I keep seeing it.  Home.  My family.  I wish… I wish they were here.  I wish the baby could know them.  I wish I could ask my mom about… everything.”
“I know,” Din said softly.  “I wish my parents were here too.”
“Wonder what they’d think of us, being Mandalorian royalty.  My parents would have a nerf calf if they realized they were grandparents to a Mandalorian baby,” Cara chuckled.
“Not just Mandalorian,” Din said.  “They’ll be Alderaanian too.  Both of our peoples have survived the Empire, and will thrive again.”
Cara smiled.  “You’re right.”  And from then on, her dreams were much better.
-
Grogu watches Mama walk across the room, pressing a hand to her back.  Dad says Mama does not waddle, but that’s not true.  Mama’s stomach is so big and she does waddle.  He even put a ball under his robe and waddled around too, just to show them.  Dad covered his mouth and made that face that meant he knew he shouldn’t laugh, but he was anyway.
Baby when? he keeps asking, but no one will answer.  Soon, Mama and Dad say.  But they won’t tell him how many days.  No one will tell him how it comes out, either.  Maybe Mama has to throw it up.  Her tummy is still sick sometimes and she throws her food up, and Dad goes and holds her hair and rubs her back for her.  He wishes he could fix it, but he only knows how to fix cuts with blood coming out.
Everyone is very excited about the baby.  They are happy when they see how big Mama is.  They say it is good to have a new baby.  Sometimes people are so busy talking to Mama and Dad about the baby they forget to hug him or give him nice pats or words.  Sometimes even Dad is too busy rubbing Mama’s tummy and talking to the baby inside.  But if he whines they say he has to be a big boy now.  Sometimes he wishes he was a baby instead, so he could be cuddled and picked up all the time.
He goes on a walk.  He likes walks, and he is allowed to go by himself in some parts of the palace because it is safe here.  Mama can’t go on long walks anymore, and Dad doesn’t like to leave her a lot now.
The guards and palace workers who see him smile and say hello and su cuy’gar, and he signs hello back to them.  Paz sees him too and scoops him up and throws him in the air the way Dad tells Paz not too, and he giggles and is happy.  But even Paz calls him big brother.  Even Paz is thinking just about the baby.
His feet take him down, down to where it’s warm and dark except for the firelight.  He isn’t really supposed to be in the forges without Dad, but he likes it here.  The Armorer is here, and she is quiet both with her voice and her mind.  She is calming to be around, and she never minds when he sits and watches her work, like now.
When the beskar cools from red-hot to silver, she shows him what she is working on.  “A new mudhorn signet.  Until your new vod can wear a pauldron like you and your parents, they can carry this with them.”
His ears fall a bit.  The Armorer sits across from him.  “A new member of the clan is to be celebrated.  What troubles you?”
He isn’t even sure, but the Armorer waits patiently.  Finally he signs, Baby special - new - he fumbles with his fingers to try and find what he means.  All thoughts baby.
“It is an exciting event,” says the Armorer.  “When you joined the clan, we were not able to celebrate properly, because it was a time of war and desperation.  With Mandalore reclaimed, there is more time for joy, for activities besides war.”
He nods, but there is still a secret fear that has been hiding deep in his chest.  The Armorer waits patiently, and when he is ready, he signs, Mama Dad all thoughts baby.  Mama Dad no thoughts Grogu.
Grogu looks down, ashamed at the very thought.  Mama and Dad tell him all the time how much they love him.  He still gets cuddles and kisses every morning and every bedtime and all day too, they still play with him, and even though Mama can’t bend down and pick him up, she still holds him when she is sitting down, and Dad still holds him a lot.  But what if they decide they love the baby more?
The Armorer takes one of his little hands in her big one.  “A newborn human needs much care,” she says.  “They will have to spend much time looking after it.  This is true.  But you are still their son.  No true Mandalorian ever abandons a member of their clan.  Your father chose to name you his own son, just as he chose your mother as his riduur, and they chose to have this child too.  Your clan is strong.  Even in times of uncertainty, I know they will not abandon you.”
Grogu love Dad Mama, he signed.
The Armorer nodded.  “They love you too.  And you will meet your new vod, and while they will take time to grow, they will love you too.”
-
Din tried not to be jumpy.  Cara was moody and grumpy and done with being pregnant, and him being jumpy annoyed her.  But when she suddenly gasped and doubled over it was impossible to not jump up and run over.  “Cara!”
“It’s probably just another false one,” she said, swatting him away.
“Don’t we have to time it?”
“Din!  Can’t you go play with Grogu or something?”
A few hours later, however, Din was dropping Grogu off to stay with the Armorer and escorting Cara to the medbay and getting her settled in, trying to ignore the medical droid and call for the midwives while Cara cursed in four different languages and all but wrung his arm out of its socket.  He knew the whole process could take a while, and promised himself he would be the best and most supportive riduur his wife could ask for.
Eight hours, a lot of ice chips, and many creative curse words later, Cara demanded, “I have to be almost dilated by now, right?!”
The medical droid scanned her.  “You are five centimeters.”
“What?!”
“That’s halfway through active labor,” said one of the midwives encouragingly.
“That does not include transitional labor, where you will be pushing, however,” the medical droid added cheerfully.
Din caught Cara when she lunged, clearly intending to rip it apart with her bare hands.  “Cyare, come on, why don’t you lie back for a little bit?”
She either cursed at him in Shyriiwook or was actually growling at him, but did lay down.  Din wiped her sweaty face with a cool cloth.  “You’ve been pacing most of this time.  You need a rest.”
“I don’t want to rest.  I want this fucking baby out of me.”
“You will,” Din said soothingly, setting aside the cloth and taking her hand.  “You’re getting closer.”
“Not close enough,” Cara grumbled.  She pushed her hair back from her face; her braid was coming undone again so Din started to fix it.  “Mom said I took seven hours.  My brother took six.  I was hoping we would be done by now,” Cara said, almost whining.
It made his heart ache for her.  “I know,” Din said, weaving her blue Alderaanian ribbon, her only remaining possession from her homeworld, back through her braid.  “You’re the strongest woman I know.  I know you can do this.”
She finally smiled at him, and Din kissed her forehead.
It took hours more.  But finally a little baby girl came into the world, red and screaming with all ten fingers and ten toes and soft dark hair on her head.  They wrapped her in a blanket and laid her in Cara’s arms, and Din knew he would never, ever forget the sight of his wife holding their newborn daughter, smiling as brightly as the stars.
“She’s perfect,” he said softly, sitting beside her.  He held out a finger, his daughter’s entire hand wrapping around it.
“She looks like you,” Cara said.  Their daughter finally opened her dark eyes, blinking at them curiously.
“I think she looks like you.  She’s beautiful,” Din said, gently stroking her soft head.  “What should we call her?”  They’d discussed it a lot, but still hadn’t made a final decision.
“I want to name her after my mother,” Cara said.  “An Alderaanian name.  Alanne.”
“Alanne Dune-Djarin,” Din said, trying it out.  “It’s perfect for her.”  He smiled, kissing Cara’s cheek.  “Grogu is going to be so excited.”
“Grogu is going to try and feed her frogs.”  Cara held out her arms a bit.  “Here.  It’s your turn.”
“You did all the hard work, cyare.  You hold her as long as you want.”
“I’m disgusting right now and I want to clean up.  Take her.”
Din gulped.  Suddenly the little baby in his wife’s arms looked so delicate and fragile.  He remembered Grogu in the pram the first time he saw him, the urge to pick him up and hold him that he’d fought down until later, and the wonderful moment when he’d finally first held the boy in his arms after rescuing him from the Imperials.  Carefully, he took Alanne and held her.  She fit as perfectly in his arms as Grogu did, looking up at him with huge brown eyes uncannily like her brother’s.
“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Alanne, ner ad’ika,” Din said softly, and he swore his daughter almost smiled.
-
Din’s main priority was making sure Cara was comfortable and could rest, the two of them spending time with their newborn daughter.  He was exhausted and wanted to sleep, and so did Cara, but there was one more thing that needed to be taken care of first.
The Armorer was occupying him with some basic crafting, linking metal beads into necklaces and bracelets, but as soon as Din appeared Grogu ran over to him, arms up, rapidly signing Baby? Baby?
Din scooped him up and smiled.  “Yes, the baby is here.  Would you like to meet her?”
Yes!  Yes! signed Grogu.
“Congratulations, Din Djarin,” said the Armorer.  “I will ensure there is no announcement until you and your wife give the word.”
“Thank you,” Din said.  This time as a family was too precious; they could worry about the official announcements and telling their friends later.  He brought Grogu to where Cara was still staying in the medbay, tended to by the droid and midwives.  She had Alanne in her arms when Din walked in.  Grogu gasped excitedly, pointing at the baby and rapidly signing Baby baby baby!
“That’s her,” Din said, unable to hide his smile as he walked them over and Cara adjusted Alanne in her arms so Grogu could see her easily.  “This is your baby sister.”
He set Grogu down on the bed, and he immediately toddled up to Cara and the baby.  He reached out and then paused.  Touch baby? he signed.
“You can touch her.  Just no Force,” Cara said.  Grogu carefully reached out, gently patting the baby on the head the same way he liked to be patted.  Din smiled.  Alanne let out a soft cry and Grogu jumped, pulling back.
“She can’t talk yet,” Cara explained.  “She can only cry.  It’s okay.  Do you want to hold her?”
Grogu’s ears flying up was a yes before he signed it.  Din helped him sit down and he and Cara gently lay Alanne in Grogu’s lap.  The two were about the same size, despite Grogu being fifty-three years older.  Grogu cooed softly, patting Alanne’s head gently, being so careful with his claws.
“Do you like her?” Cara asked.
Grogu love baby, he signed.  Din had to blink a bit because his vision was watering a little.
“Her name is Alanne,” said Cara, carefully spelling the name out in sign so Grogu could copy her.  “We will make a sign for her like we did for you.  But right now you can sign her name like this.”
Alanne, Alanne, Grogu practiced.  Grogu love baby sister Alanne.
“And we love you,” Din said.  He sat on the bed too, together with his clan, and knew there was nothing in the galaxy he could love more than his family.
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tripleaxeldiaz · 3 years
Note
elmosolyodni for the wordstuck prompts 💕
elmosolyodni: to slowly break out into a genuine smile when being overcome with emotions, like love or utter happiness.
read on ao3
As much as he wanted it to be, as much as he wanted it for himself, Eddie’s never been great at romance. 
His proposal to Shannon was more like a suggestion, a stuttering statement that tumbled out of him when she showed him the positive test six months after their first date. And he didn’t give it much thought again — didn’t have time to think about it — until a couple months into his tour, when his team was swapping stories about wives and husbands over dinner and someone asked, “So Diaz, how’d you pop the question?”
The fact that he didn’t have a story to tell stung more than he thought it would.
He tried to make it up to her — bought her flowers when he was home, took her out for their anniversary every year, but between parenthood and redeployment and the growing chasm between them when he came back the second time, any notion of romance felt harder and harder to hold onto. And when she left, amid the panic and shame and anger, there was also a sadness, a resignation that the romance he’d quietly craved just wasn’t meant for him. He had bills to pay, a kid to take care of, a life to rebuild. Sweeping gestures from him or for him no longer seemed important.
That all changed when he met Buck, as most things in his life did.
Even before they started dating, Eddie wanted to do things for Buck. He wanted to buy him the shirt in the window display that reminded him of his eyes, wanted to make sure that they always had his weird Icelandic yogurt in the fridge for when he stayed over, wanted to wrap him up when he got that broken look on his face and remind him that he is loved by everyone and especially by Eddie. It was a physical need, one he felt in his gut every time, but he’d shut that part of himself off so firmly that all he could do was hope it didn’t linger too long. Buck needed a friend, and he’d be damned if he did anything stupid enough to ruin what they already had, what they’d already built.
It took a bullet ripping through his abdomen to make him realize what a terrible idea that had been.
But a year later wounds are healed, PT is long done, and he wakes up next to Buck every morning feeling happier than he has in almost a decade. He gets to buy the shirt for him, stock up on yogurt, and press himself into Buck’s space until his eyes get their spark back. He can fantasize about the house they’ll buy or the dogs they’ll adopt once Chris moves out.
He can see a titanium ring in the display case of the jewelry store at the mall and perfectly imagine what it would look like on Buck’s finger.
And he can make it all the way to his truck after buying it before the panic starts to set it.
He doesn’t register driving to Maddie and Chim’s until he’s frantically knocking on the door, hoping he heard Buck right and that Maddie’s off today taking care of a sick Jee-yun. The door flies open, and he sees Maddie’s face go from pissed to surprised to confused as she zeros in on the velvet box held limply in his hand.
“Uh, Eddie, that’s really sweet, but there are a lot of reasons why this would never work.”
His laugh is borderline hysterical as he gently pushes into the apartment. “It’s for Buck, but I— we haven’t really— I don’t even know if—” He doesn’t realize he’s pacing until Maddie takes his elbow and steers him to the couch, hands him a glass of water, and pushes him to sit.
“Breathe. Drink,” she says, and he does as his mind keeps spinning. She sets the empty glass on the coffee table and sits in the armchair across from him. “Okay. You want to propose. That’s a good thing, right?”
“Of course.” It’s the best thing, at the very top of a list of things he thought were untoppable.
“Have you guys talked about getting married?”
It wasn’t so much a conversation as a shift in language — one day the phrase “if we get married” changed to “when we get married” and neither of them thought twice about it because it felt so right.
“Sort of,” he settles on.
“And you’re sure he’d say yes?”
“Yes.” There’s few things in life he’s ever been so sure of, no matter what his earlier panic was making him think.
“So what’s the problem?”
He slumps back on the couch, hands running through his hair. “I don’t know how to do it.”
Maddie squints at him. “Eddie, it’s a pretty hard thing to mess up. And you’ve already been married, so don’t you have some practice?”
“That was different,” he says. “Shannon was already pregnant, it was more like a to-do list item than anything else. I didn’t even get her a ring until a couple months later.”
“Well you’re already a step ahead there, so that’s good.”
He sighs, pulling the ring box out of his pocket again and opening it. The thin line of silver running through the black glints in the sunlight, and he can still picture Buck wearing it so clearly, he’s just not sure how it gets there. All he knows is this aching need he can feel in his chest to make sure that however he does it, it’s enough — more than enough — that Buck knows exactly how deep his love runs, exactly how desperately Eddie needs him in his life and by his side.
Maddie moves to sit next to him and takes the box, and Eddie falls back into the cushions again. “I just want it to be perfect for him,” he says quietly. “Romantic. All the stuff people dream about when they think about getting engaged. But I have no idea how to do that.”
Maddie studies the ring for a minute before shutting the box, pressing it into his hand until he looks her in the eye. Her gaze is steady, piercing, and very (scarily) reminiscent of her brother’s. “You are asking him to marry you. It’s already perfect.” The reassurance helps, and it’s easy to smile back at her when she squeezes his hand. 
“But,” she says, reaching for a pen and notebook on the coffee table, “a little romance never killed anyone, so let’s make some lists and figure out what you do and don’t want to do.”
Lists sound good. Eddie can work with lists.
“Rule number one,” she says, already scribbling, “no sporting events. Nothing kills the mood faster than seeing your face on a Jumbotron…”
~~~~~~~~~~
In the end, none of the lists really matter.
Because two weeks later, they’re sitting on the back patio after dinner, night air cool and lit up around them by the lights Chris insisted on hanging for his last backyard sleepover. Buck’s going on about a patient who tried to insist he could do CPR on himself, and Eddie’s hypnotized by his enthusiasm, the expressiveness of his hands and the joyful blush on his cheeks. He says something that makes both of them laugh, bubbling through the quiet of the neighborhood, and Eddie knows, immediately and with every part of him.
He has to ask Buck now. It’s not the candlelit dinner and walk on the beach he’d decided on with Maddie, nor is it even close to as big and bold as anything else they’d come up with. But none of that matters now because his skin is buzzing and his heart is pounding and he doesn’t want the ring burning in his pocket a minute longer — he wants to swear himself to Buck right here, in this moment that is extraordinarily ordinary and perfectly them. This is a story he wants to tell people over and over, to their family and friends and anyone else who will listen.
The universe must still be trying to make up for the hell it put him through last year, because the playlist coming through their portable speaker changes to something softer, romantic, and Eddie takes his chance before he talks himself out of it.
“Dance with me,” he says, standing and offering his hand to Buck. 
“I’m sorry, are my stories boring?” Buck laughs as he takes his hand, folding into Eddie’s space like he’s always meant to be there, arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him close.
“Never,” Eddie says, and he pauses, because the one thing he and Maddie didn’t talk about was what he actually wanted to say to Buck when he asked. And now that he’s here with very little preparation, the huge, all-encompassing feelings he has for Buck refuse to be wrangled into a few measly sentences. None of the words he can think of feel big enough to capture how deeply his love runs, and he can feel his skin start buzzing for a much more unpleasant reason.
Hands squeeze his waist, zoning him back in and focusing him on Buck, on the crease between his eyebrows and the worry around his mouth. “Everything okay?” he asks, because he always knows when Eddie gets lost in himself, sometimes even before Eddie figures it out. 
Buck knows him better than he knows himself. He doesn’t need big, poetic monologues for Buck to understand what’s going on inside his head.
The buzzing changes again, fueling his determination as he slips his hand into his pocket. “I love you. So much it’s almost scary. But I’m more scared of spending the rest of my life without you,” he holds the ring up between them, “so will you marry me?”
Buck freezes, stopping them both from swaying with the music. Eddie watches his eyes flit between the ring and Eddie and back again, holding his breath as he waits for an answer. Finally, Buck’s eyes lock on Eddie and stay there, a soft smile growing and growing until it’s so incandescently bright that Eddie’s afraid he might have to look away or risk losing his vision.
And then, just as quickly, Buck drops his hands from Eddie’s waist and runs back into the house.
Eddie honestly isn’t sure what to make of this, the only thought running through his head being what the fuck just happened here. But then Buck’s running back outside, still smiling and not-so-secretly holding something behind his back, and now it’s Eddie’s turn to glow.
“You’re joking,” he says quietly, cheeks already hurting from a smile that feels permanent and eyes feeling a little wet.
Buck shakes his head, his eyes shining too as he holds up the velvet box. “Bought it like a month ago when Chris and I went to buy him a new backpack, I had to bribe him with a new video game to keep him quiet. I haven’t even gotten a chance to tell Maddie yet.”
Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if the sheer amount of joy coursing through his veins was making him float a couple inches off the ground. “Is that a yes then?” he asks.
Buck’s laugh is loud and sharp, and Eddie can’t think of a more perfect sound. He takes the ring out and tosses the box aside, holding it up next to the one in Eddie’s hand. “Only if you’ll marry me too.”
It’s a flurry, then, of rings on fingers and breathless kisses and whispers of I love you, I love you so much. The whirlwind settles and they start swaying to the music again, holding each other even closer, and Eddie revels in the new weight on his hand that ties them together. He feels light and loved, completely enveloped in this romance that he’s finally able to give fully and receive just as well. 
Buck takes his hand and places a kiss just below his ring, and Eddie knows this is just the beginning. They have a lifetime of love and happiness ahead of them, and Eddie finally feels like he deserves it.
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