#i became a single mother overnight

[enidtendo64]

I just finished Wednesday today and I'm full on the wenclair ship!!!! so I'm glad to have seen your art just as I'm done lmao. if you read wenclair fics do you have any recommendations?

OOOOH Okay nice nice!!!

I'm so sorry this is so late but I hope you still want some recs, bc I def got some for you! I tried to keep these pretty succinct and not too many bc a lot of these are pretty long reads but these are some of my fav Wenclair fics to read and reread! I made sure to put different types/genres of fics in here too so there's a diverse list of flavors on here! Most will be complete but I'll throw in some WIPs i've been keeping an eye on!

If We Make It Through December by overnights: If you love FLUFF and Enid interacting with the Addams Fam! A wenclair STAPLE tbh, fake dating, Enid being invited to the Addams Mansion, and CHRISTMAS fic all in one! The dynamics between the Addams and Enid are always sweet, and Wednesday and Enid just teeter on that close friendship to oh, maybe it's love??? thing and it's so sweet to see. It's just very lovely and wholesome! A great execution of that 'fake dating but oops you were in love all along haha' trope!

Magus et Lupus by wigglewyrms: Ok like I had to rep one of my pals in here but in my defense this is genuinely so good and one of my favorite wenclair fics before we even became friends! It's a fun fantasy Wenclair with dialogue that's just so fun and snappy and witty! You're gonna have fun reading their conversations and then you're gonna get caught up into the world and the story! The plot is very fun and the end is a very fun payoff! I think I might have overused the word fun a lot for this fic but like that's just what this fic is--It's entertaining, it's engaging, and it makes you feel like you're having fun reading wanting to know what's next or what's this person gonna say or etc. It's a fic you read and you feel good! 100% Recommend! I even drew art for it if you're interested (which I should honestly repost on here soon)

I'd recommend their other stuff too-- Stubborn, Single Minded, and Obsessive is great if you like the slasher horror genre with a dash of Addams Family Values Lore, and their most recent one that's a WIP, When The Moon Shines Red is a very fun fic focused on Enid's werewolfisms but dangerous, with a very sweet friendship to relationship evolution between Enid and Wednesday!

i know the end by thriftedstars: If you're an angst lover like I am, you're gonna LOOOOVE this! A sort of groundhog's day type of fic, it focuses on the day of the last episode of the first season--Enid, Wednesday, Tyler, Crackstone, all that entails in that night. It's a really fun read just to know what happens next and how Enid gets out of the situation but also to see the girls' relationship grow in this terrible situation. Lots of emotion! Listen sometimes you just need the hurt for the ending to be sweeter! Recommend wholeheartedly!

curtain call by hanjisgirlfriend: on the complete opposite side of the last fic, Curtain Call is an enemies to friends to lovers Wenclair that does an amazing job of capturing that kind of high school love story kind of vibe but like also a dash of youthful nostalgia. It gives me the same vibe of like, if I was listening to the Kids album by Mac Miller--They're kids and they're friends and they're growing up and they're growing up together. I HIGHLY recommend as well, like it genuinely makes my heart lighter thinking about how sweet this is.

raven in the den, wolf in the nest by Barbara_Lazuli: So you might be familiar with the author's name--Artist, Comic maker, Writer, literally what CAN'T she do!!! This fic is another fake dating fic but a different flavor from the first one! This one really dives into both Enid and Wednesday's relationships with their mothers, as well as the building feelings they already have for each other. Their bond in this fic is nothing short of sweet and heartwarming, and I genuinely think this is one of the best fics in the tag! Just got so much substance! Also all the Addams family media references and the Loona refs-- like Barb if you read this you're a champ for making Wednesday play Sonatine and also listen to Hula Hoop and just for making this in general????? Seriously how are you so talented bro

queen of the night by heyfools: Look, a flower shop AU hits okay? And this? THIS HITS. Wednesday is an owner of a flower shop, Enid needs a job, and we know where this is going. But man the way you get to know both characters a little more--their histories, traumas, likes and dislikes and their personalities beyond "appropriately polite cowoke" (well, polite for Enid, not so much Wednesday at first) it's soooooo good! You have a journey along with the characters and you really get invested in their relationship! A great read, especially if you wanna read something like in the afternoon light with a nice lemonade maybe, or like just a very relaxing fun read!

Forged in Blood by RiseAboveTheAshes_203: Okay so this one is a HEAVY HITTER! We're getting into the big bois! It's a 100k fic about Wednesday and Enid basically dealing with the consequences of Enid becoming a blood wolf-- and bro you are seated, belted, strapped into the ride every step because PHEWWWW what a RIDE! It has really interesting lore building upon werewolf society in the show and also witchery and magic from the Addams family. And all of that is great and amazing but the real star of this is just Wednesday and Enid being Wednesday and Enid--they are DEVOTED to each other! Even if they don't quite understand the full means of it yet, and if it gets them in trouble sometimes. It's amazing to see their relationship grow and them understand what they truly mean to one another and it's a captivating love story that also happens to have fun world building for the show and amazing moments that just leave you so tense to know what happens next! I was so tuned in when this was still a WIP I remember refreshing the tag every lunch time for a while for a chapter I was HOOKED, and I'm sure you will be too!

A Kidnapping By Any Other Name by Ravenmoon33: So bear with me this is gonna be a long one; Ok! So this is the other WIP I've put in here (aside from When The Moon Shines Red) and let me tell you--this fic changed my life fr. Some TLDR lore about it tho--the version I linked above there is a revised version! They have an old version they still have up on their account and honestly I also HIGHLY recommend that version too bc it had me in bed giggling kicking my feet like ROMANCE. ROMANCE WAS MADE in these ao3 walls!!! (The flower scene???? No spoilers if you know you know but OOOOOOOOGGHHHH I would not shut up about it for WEEKS Im so sorry to my friends and my poor gf) but I also highly recommend the new version as well! If you've read the first version and are keeping up with the new version, the new things are also so good and you can tell the author is so locked in and excited with what they've added and what they've changed, I honestly recommend both;

So onto what it's actually about-- Enid is "kidnapped" by Wednesday and is "forced" to stay at her best friend's mansion for the summer. And you know what happens? LORE. So much worldbuilding on Addams family lore like it's AMAZING!!! You read about new characters the family past and what it means for Wednesday and Enid, and if that's not enough, there's also the MYSTERY aspect too because Weds and Enid will have to deep dive into that lore to figure out a problem in the present and it's so much FUN to like try to figure out how things go together! I love that aspect of both the versions so much that it's only rivaled by my immense love of how everyone's relationships are written! Enid's relationships with the other members of the Addams fam, especially Morticia, is so healing and heartwarming, and we see Wednesday's different dynamics with her family and how Enid affects her and helps her grow and you see those relationships with her family members grow because of it! And of course, the obvious, Wednesday and Enid basically having a love story for the ages cause JESUS, this is ROMANCE. Wednesday BIG FUCKING ROMANTIC Addams!!! It's amazing omg I wanna say more but I also don't bc I don't wanna spoil but I absolutely cannot rec it enough, even if it stays unfinished it will still be genuinely one of the best wenclair fics for me.

Tumultuous Waters: Wednesday Season Two by KrackenoftheDeep: So we're here at the last one. I didn't really list these fics out in specific order but I did save this specific one for last bc I genuinely think this is my favorite Wednesday fic. This is like a full ass season 2! It's a telling of how season 2 could happen, continuing from season 1 and picking up the ball the first season threw with stuff about the Morning Song cult, a deeper dive of Crackstone and Goody, more worldbuilding about the outcasts and the school, and best of all-- THE Wednesday and Enid dynamic that to me would be so fucking ideal for season 2 if Timothy Burton wasn't a COWARRD!!! /j /maybe

The growth Enid and Wednesday have in this fic, along with the exploration of the other characters, more investigations not just by Wednesday but also the other nightshade members helping and getting involved as well! You really get to feel so many things for these characters, and all of that pays off in one of the most satisfying endings for me in a fic like the author really fucking knocked this out of the park I felt like giving a standing ovation!

I genuinely don't think the Wednesday writers could like, live up to this. At least for me, it's that good. This is everything I've ever wanted for a Wednesday s2 honestly and I honestly, HONESTLY could not recommend this enough.

And after you read this, you can follow along the author's sequel to this fic, The Infinite Black Sea: Wednesday Season 3. Again, also highly recommend! A new mystery afoot!!!

I'm so sorry I didn't expect this to get super long but sometimes you just gotta give tens where tens are deserved!!! There are so many more great wenclair fics out there that deserve a reading and loving, like I know the tag can look a little scary sometimes but seriously there's some great gems there underneath all the scary stuff lol

These are just some of my personal favs, and honestly thank you to all the authors here yall are doing God's work fr!!!

#starry-river-serval #asks #so my b like i just went off on a bunch of tangents talking about these fics #but in my defense they're very good! #I hope that you read these fics when you have the time bc it was time spent VERY well reading these! #thank you authors you are the backbone of fandoms #fic rec #all of these except for the three I mentioned are completed works and all of them are sfw! #happy reading yall and don't forget to show the authors love and leave a comment!

[mariacallous]

Within days of Hamas’s massacre last month that left 1,400 people dead in Israel, a gas station near the southern city of Be’er Sheva was packed with Israeli soldiers. Convoys of beaten-up military jeeps were zigzagging in and out of the pump terminals, and the roadside cafe had stopped taking civilian orders, trying to reserve all available stock for troops preparing for the first ground invasion of the Gaza Strip in just under a decade. In the parking lot, Israelis manned a makeshift booth offering falafel to passing soldiers, playing patriotic songs. The gas station workers, meanwhile, leaned on stock pallets in a shaded corner—four Bedouins speaking to each other in broken Hebrew with thick Arab accents, staring out into a nation not quite their own on the brink of war. They must have been terrified of outing themselves as Arabs.

By the end of the 1948 Arab-Israeli War, there were roughly 156,000 Palestinians who found themselves within what became the official borders of the state of Israel. Almost overnight, they had morphed into citizens of Israel. As of 2020, they number almost 2 million (including East Jerusalem Palestinians who hold permanent resident status), comprising about 20 percent of Israel’s population. They had evaded exile, but their initial relations to the state were marred by resentment and confusion: Many had relatives settled in tent cities in neighboring Arab countries, and large swaths of their former agricultural lands had been expropriated. Almost two decades would pass until these Arab towns in Israel would be released from military rule.

Arab citizens began from a point of severe disadvantage. Much of the Palestinian population lived in farming communities with lower levels of literacy. On top of this, there were deep feelings of resentment associated with the establishment of Israel and the new necessity of navigating it in what then was the enemy tongue.

More than half a century later, these Arabs are intimately embedded in the fabric of Israeli life. All signs indicate that, over time, socioeconomic gaps have narrowed. Scarcely a single sector can function without Arab labor. Schooling and the domestic life of Arab Israelis are still largely conducted in Arabic, and members of this population tend to gain fluency in Hebrew only upon entering higher education. In academia, most material is taught in Hebrew, and then, in most professions, Arab Israelis invariably sit alongside Israeli Jews on a daily basis.

A degree of accommodation and understanding has formed, and as far as many Israelis are concerned, this is the gold standard of coexistence. Arabs, however, continue to face discrimination and hardship—along with their own internal divisions.

What am I? Too Israeli for the Palestinians and too Palestinian for the Israelis. Our identity is no identity, and we are born into confusion,” said Huda, an office worker who lives in the northern town of Kafr Yasif (she did not want her last name used because she is scared of reprisal).

Huda is a Christian Arab. Christians make up 1.9 percent of the Israeli population, while Muslims comprise 18 percent, and Druze, 1.6 percent.

This confused identity becomes more acute during times of war. “Unlike Israeli Jews, I hear the screams of Palestinians in my mother tongue and I understand them,” she said. “And yet, here, understanding them amounts to sympathizing with them.” (Interviews with Arab Israelis for this piece were conducted in Arabic and Hebrew, depending on the subject’s personal preference.)

Since the outbreak of the war, at least 110 Arab Israelis have been arrested for speech-related offenses, according to Adalah, the legal center for Arab minority rights in Israel. Separately, the group said 100 complaints have been filed against Arab Israeli students, 74 have been summoned for disciplinary hearings, and three students have been expelled.

Abed Samara, head of the Hasharon Hospital cardiac ICU in central Israel, was suspended from work for a Facebook post published roughly two years ago featuring a green flag with religious writing in Arabic and a dove symbolizing peace, along with a short text in Arabic that included the word “martyr.” The color green is traditionally associated with Islam. Samara said the flag was mistaken for the Hamas flag and the post was deeply misconstrued. “No one even bothered to consult me about any of this,” he said in an interview given to Hebrew-language media.

Dalal Abu Amneh, a popular singer and neuroscientist, was arrested and held in solitary confinement for two nights for posting a Palestinian flag with the caption, “There is no victor except for that of God.” These are just two examples of Arab Israelis who have had their reputations ruined after the events of early October—despite the fact that a recent poll showed at least 80 percent of Israel’s Arab population to be categorically against the massacre.

Fighting between Israelis and Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza does not usually trigger violence between Arabs and Jews in Israel. But it did the last time Israel and Hamas fought a war in May 2021. Among the attacks on Jewish Israelis, synagogues were torched and hundreds of homes were looted—many of them in and around mixed Arab-Jewish cities.

The incident shook Israel enough that its military a few months later staged an exercise simulating scenarios of “domestic unrest” for the first time since the Second Intifada. On Oct. 4, just three days before the massacre, an Israeli headline featured talks among police officials to loosen open-fire protocols. As of Oct. 26, that motion has been set forth for voting in the Knesset and comes as Israel is especially attuned to signs of sympathy for Hamas among Arab Israeli citizens.

“I woke up that Saturday, saw footage of the massacres, and my first thought was: We’re done for,” said Hamada Mahamid, a 30-year-old Hebrew teacher from the Arab Israeli city of Umm al-Fahm, the third-largest Arab Israeli city and part of a cluster of exclusively Muslim towns and cities bordering the Green Line. “It was clear to all of us that this is no joke: People are holed up in their homes, my friends have stopped going to work, and we are even reluctant to chat over the phone,” he said.

Similar sentiments were expressed by Arab Israeli politicians, who currently number 10 of 120 members of the Knesset. Even those who have generally assumed staunch positions against Israeli military operations in Palestinian territories, such as Ahmad Tibi, have urged their populations to keep a level head and avoid any actions that may risk their standing in Israel.

Hosni Sadeq, a restaurant owner from the Arab Israeli city of Tira, said he feels betrayed. Even during the quietest periods, a stabbing attempt on the other side of the country would leave his restaurant empty on the busiest day of the week—which tends to be Saturday, when Jews stream into the local marketplace for shopping and authentic Arab food. “Not only do I have to speak their language and never with a single mistake, but I have to forget my origins and never speak a word about their enemies,” he said.

For Huda, war exposes the wedge between the two peoples living on a single slice of land, which each side claims as its own. “We are not actually friends,” she said. “We exchange laughs at work, but when war breaks out, each rushes back into his own camp.”

Crime rates in Arab Israeli towns have skyrocketed in recent years. The Israeli police blame a lack of cooperation from Arab citizens for the inability to reverse the trend, but Arabs often cite a lack of initiative on the part of the authorities. “Just like in America, but a little different,” Mahamid said. “Here, no one cares when Arabs kill Arabs—if anything, it serves the state well.” Israeli politicians often refer to the danger of Arab violence seeping into Jewish communities— which Tibi called “condescending,” as it paints the Arab community as the “backyard” of Israel, where “anything can happen.”

Indeed, several months ago, Israeli Police Commissioner Kobi Shabtai was heard on a leaked voice recording shrugging off the endemic violence, in a conversation with right-wing extremist Itamar Ben-Gvir, Israel’s national security minister. “There is nothing that can be done,” Shabtai said, according to reports. “They kill each other. That is their nature. That is the mentality of the Arabs.”

Now, as the Knesset is being called to vote on loosening open-fire protocols, calls among Israeli Jews to establish armed community-watch squadrons, and Arab officers in the police force languishing at just above 5 percent, Arabs are convinced that the police will never truly be on their side. Many have begun rethinking plans for the future.

Mahamid, who plans to marry in a couple of months, is for the first time looking into immigration options.

“The last decade of quiet is dead and gone—everyone knows it, even though some deny it,” Mahamid told me, echoing the words of Israeli National Security Advisor Tzachi Hanegbi, who, referring to Hamas in a recent address, said that “all of the terms of the past are gone and have dissipated.” Hanegbi’s words apply as much to homeland security as to the Israeli social fabric, which many Arab Israelis believe has been irreparably damaged.

“I condemn the massacre. I retched at the sight of what Hamas did. And I condemn the ceaseless bombing of innocent Gazans. If the Israelis didn’t know in advance about the massacre, how would the 2 million Gazans have known?” Mahamid said. “But when this is all said and done, we are going to be left alone with them here on the interior.”

Survivors of the massacre tend to note two things in recalling the horrors of that fateful Saturday: the sound of gunfire and the sound of Arabic. Almost every reference to that day includes a reference to the Arabic language, which as of 2018 was downgraded from an “official language” of Israel to one of “special status.” This shift came in the nation-state law, a controversial measure from the political right that sought to reaffirm Israel’s role as the “national homeland of the Jewish people” and left Arabs wondering what exactly they have been working toward over the last several decades.

“Canada is looking good at the moment,” Mahamid told me. “I can’t speak a lick of English, but I’d now prefer to babble than take my chances in Arabic on the Israeli street.”

[skzpixiekaifei]

Summary: Fei Kai moved to South Korea to get a fresh start. The fresh start included a man with curly hair and glasses.

Story warnings: Single mother! Kai x Ex military! Changbin. Strangers to lovers. Enemies to lovers. 3rd person. Disabled! Changbin. Kai flirts with people as always. Suggestive in many chapters. Themes of PTSD.

CW: Familial issues, mentions of drowning, Suggestive, Kai's mother being a little bitch

2k word count

Taglist: @mynameisnotlaura, @palindrome969

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Chapter 8: Dinner with your ghosts

“Duri, please.” Kai begged when her daughter groaned. “Soojin-ah is looking forward to your sleepover. Last night you were so happy to be going!” 

“But moooom,” Duri pouted. “I want to stay home with you and Binnie.” Kai almost gave into her daughter’s pout. Almost, being the key word. 

“Fei Justine Duri,” Kai spoke sternly, making the six-year-old quiet down. She almost never used her daughter’s full name, Justine being the name of her childhood best friend that stabbed her in the back by marrying her brother. “You are going to Soojin's home. I know you want to stay home, but Changbin and I need to head out and your uncles can’t watch you. You need to go.” 

“But I’m a big girl!” Duri whined once again. “I can stay home alone!” Kai chuckled at her daughter’s antics. 

“If you’re such a big girl, you wouldn’t complain to what your mother is asking you to do, hm?” This stumped Duri, causing Kai to laugh once more. She stood up, brushing the dust off her dress pants, adjusting her blazer to cover her shoulders more. 

Duri stood up, all dressed and ready to leave. “Bin! Let’s go!” Kai called out, before adjusting her lipstick in the hall mirror. Duri watched her mother with fascination, the itch to wear makeup like her mother strong. Kai had a strong inkling to what her daughter wanted, so she bent down and kissed her daughter’s cheek, so the mauve lip left a print on her kid’s skin. Duri squealed with happiness, checking her cheek in the mirror.  

“Okay okay, I'm coming.” Changbin chuckled, stepping into the hall where they were. Kai looked over, and her throat suddenly grew dry with how good he looked. He had on a simple dress shirt and slacks, but they hugged him in all the right places. He struggled with the tie around his neck, grunting when the tie became untied again. 

“Here,” She shook herself out of her stupor, walking over to the older man and taking the tie gently. He hummed, looking down at her, eyebrows up curiously. She looked at him pointedly, pointing his chin upward so she had better access to his neck. He instinctually sat his hands on the small of her waist, and Kai had to suppress a shudder. 

She tied the tie skillfully, breath ghosting over his neck at the proximity of their bodies. She suddenly coughed after the need to bite him came to mind. She stepped back, fighting the blush that graced her cheeks. “Okay,” her voice was steady, turning to her daughter who looked up at the two with wide eyes. “Ready to go, baby?” 

“Is Changbin my new dad?” Duri asked, causing the two to sputter in shock. Their faces bloomed red at the child’s blunt words.  

“No, baby. Let’s go.” She grabbed her daughter’s overnight bag, patting the small of her back to get her going. Duri cocked her head to the side but followed her mother’s instructions. Changbin froze, watching the two leave, mind wandering to places a platonic friend wouldn’t dare to venture. 

He imagined that he was Duri’s father, and what it would be like, waking up to Kai beside him every day. He quickly shook those thoughts from his head, jogging to catch up with the two of them. 

When they entered the restaurant, Kai was relieved that they weren’t the first ones, but her stomach dropped when they were the last two to arrive. Their friends sat at a table for twelve, completely uncomfortable as her mother jabbered on. Either about herself, Bo, or what a ‘terrible daughter’ she was. 

“Hello,” Kai said through gritted teeth and a fake smile. Hye-Jin stopped talking, faking a smile as well. 

“My dear, what took you so long? Leaving us with your friends. Not very polite, Kai-ah.” Hye-Jin chastised and Kai pretended to be receptive.  

“Well, I hope you weren’t waiting too long. Duri was freaking out about what shoes to wear,” Kai lied, forcing a dry laugh to come out. She sat in between Changbin and Hyunjin (Who was dressed the most elegantly), leg starting to bounce with anxiety. 

“Dramatic, just like her mother.” Bo muttered over his drink of water. Three heads snapped to him, and she could sense Changbin’s discontentment. 

“More like his uncle. I mean, you were the one to almost drown me after I ate large of a portion of Kimchi.” She commented back, taking a drink of her own water. The table grew silent, and Bo looked like he was going to throttle her. She smiled innocently, looking towards the waitress who just stepped towards them. 

They ordered their food, and when the waitress walked away, Hye-Jin set her eyes on Chan. “So, you eight,” Hye-Jin smiled, but Kai could tell it was turning for flirty. Her father sat uncomfortably. The group stiffened, turning their attention on the older woman. “How long have you been plowing my daughter?” 

Kai choked on her water, coughing wildly as the two men beside her rubbed her back comfortably. Chan looked at the woman, baffled, while the others grew increasingly more red. “Plowing? Is that what you think has been happening between us nine?” Felix shifted uncomfortably. 

“Well, what else are you hanging out with her for? The only thing she has going for her is the fact she has a vagina.” Hye-Jin crossed her arms. “I bet she’s using you all for money.” 

Kai glared at her mother, the grip on her thigh tightening to the fact she drew blood. “Not at all. We’re all friends, she’s more like a little sister to us.” Chan seethed. “The fact that you think that of your own daughter is sad.” 

“Okay, then what. What is so special about her?” Bo asked. “Because all I can see is a little whimpering bitch in front of me.” Changbin stood up, along with Minho and Jeongin. They looked like they were one second away from causing a massive scene in the middle of the restaurant. 

“She’s more of a man you’ll ever be. You’re just a coward that decided to create several Geneva convention violations for a serotonin boost.” Minho spat. He then turned to Hye-Jin, eyes narrowing. “And you. She’s more of a mother than you’ll ever be, you neglecting, abusive, emotionally-incestual piece of shit.” He pointed a finger at the aghast Hye-Jin. Kai’s father, Hao, stood up, pissed. 

Instead of yelling at the group for insulting his wife and son, he turned to Hye-Jin and Bo. “I want a divorce.” He turned to his daughter, before kneeling on the ground and bowing to her daughter. “My darling daughter, I’m so sorry.” His voice shook, and Kai’s heart broke. She helped him up, hugging her father tightly. 

“Dad, come on. You shouldn’t be kneeling in your condition.” She whispered to her elderly father. “Okay, boys. It’s time to go home.” She smiled at her true family, who felt all too happy at leaving the fancy restaurant. “Oh, and Hye-Jin?” She turned to her mother, before grabbing the full bottle of red wine and splashing it all over her mother’s white dress. Bo stood up quickly as her mother was drenched. 

“Go die in a hole, you fucking cunt.” She grabbed her father’s hand and showed the middle finger to Bo. He looked livid but knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything. The group of ten left quickly, right before the chain of expensive food came through. 

Kai laughed as her friends danced with each other in the middle of the deserted 24-hour McDonalds. The workers tiredly watched the group, wishing their pay was higher as Han screamed once again. Hao sat next to her daughter after apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, my lotus.” Tears ran down his wrinkled face. “I’m a terrible father. I should’ve done better to protect you.” 

“Papa,” Kai hushed her father, who quieted down. She wiped his tears, before hugging him softly. “Better late than never, huh?” He laughed softly. “Oh, and don’t worry about mom. You can stay in my studio; it has a pull-out couch.” 

“Is it possible to stay in Korea with you? I want to be a part of your life.” He whispered. Kai’s heart melted; her father and her were always on better terms. 

“Of course, Bàba.” She laid her head on her father’s shoulder. Everything felt fine between the two. 

Kai walked down the hall from the studio, passing by Changbin’s room to get some water into her system. “Kai?” Changbin’s muffled voice came from the closed door, and she paused. She hoped she was hearing things, until she heard him say her name again. 

She crept into the room, finding Changbin ruffling his hair with a towel to dry it from his shower. He was shirtless, and she had to stop herself from gawking. But she’s only human, so she gawked just a little. He pouted the bed beside her, and she took it. She herself was in her Pj’s, a long T-shirt and shorts. 

“Do you like me living with you?” He asked, gaining confusion from the younger female. She nodded, not finding any hesitance in his voice. “I found an apartment.” 

Disappointment settled in her gut, thinking he was going to move out. That her life would be bland again. He noticed her expression change, and quickly added to his sentence. “For the four of us! It’s nearby, so we wouldn’t have to move far. Duri would have a larger room, it’s near a retirement community so your father-” She cut him off with a small kiss on his cheek. He froze, eyes wide. 

“Sound’s perfect,” She whispered, before her eyes widened with the realization of what she did. “Shit, I’m so sorry-” It was his turn to cut her off by pressing his lips chaste to hers. She buffered; eyes wide open. She slowly closed her eyes, leaning into the kiss, hand coming up to caress his cheek. The two stayed like that for a couple more seconds, her breathing in his scent of wood and bourbon. 

They parted, foreheads together, looking into each other’s eyes. “So,” she whispered. “I’m guessing you like me too?” The two started to laugh, giggling into each other like school children. 

“I’m sorry for kissing you without your permission,” Changbin frowned. Kai pecked the tip of his nose. 

“Don’t worry about it.” She whispered, but he frowned. Kai tilted her head, voice dropping to a sultry tone and leaning in. “If you’re so worried about it, kiss it better.” She puckered her lips, making Changbin turn red. 

He playfully pushed her away. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Chan-Hyung.” He teased, causing her to frown. 

“You don’t want to kiss me?” She whined, and Changbin groaned.  

“If I kiss you again, I won’t be able to stop.” He whispered, leaning back in again. His eyes scanned hers for any regretfulness. All that was there was something untamed. 

“Who said I wanted you to stop, hm?” With that confirmation, he captured her lips hungrily. Teeth mashed together as she clawed at his skin, groaning at the pace of his kiss. 

Kai steeped the tea in her mug, watching the sun rise. Moments like this, she was glad to be alive. Hands wrapped around her stomach, hugging her to a firm chest and peppering her neck in soft kisses. Kai leaned into the touch, kissing Changbin’s temple as he yawned. Kai offered him a sip of the tea, which he gladly accepted before cringing. 

“What flavor is it?” He screwed his face up at the bitter taste. 

“Throat soothing flavor, lemon edition. I need it, after what you put me through last night.” she teased, watching his face turn red and lean into her ear. 

“Well, you’re the one who begged me to-” he purred, Kai’s face flushing red and shoving him with her hip. He chuckled, hugging her tighter to his chest, head sitting on top of hers, humming along to a song he and Han were working on. 

This morning was a morning of peace. But because it was Kai, nothing good lasts. 

I am so sorry with what is going to happen :C

#skz #bang chan #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #lee know #skz imagines #writing #jeongin #lee felix #seungmin #skzkaifei #straykids #stray kids #Library of dreams warm and loving #LDWL #skz fic #chan #bangchan #minho #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han #jisung #felix #yongbok #lee yongbok #lee felix yongbok #kim seungmin

[foreverinpanicmode]

💭 HEADCANNONS ABOUT PERCY WEASLEY

that i one hundred precent believe in and will forever protect.

let's start off with the fact that as a child he most certainly was one of the smallest. in his first year, he most definitely was four feet and two inches or something like that.

he didn't hit puberty until he was thirteen, he believed it was purely evolution and that he just simply grew overnight. however, if you had asked anyone else? they'd tell you that merlin took pity on him.

percy is afraid of failure. much like little hermione granger, percy fears that if he doesn't do well in anything he does that he'll be thrown out of school or rejected consistently by his peers.

he's a straight 'o' student, which is nothing new... except he's only a straight 'o' student because one time his brother fred told him that he was gonna grow up to be the stupidest person ever to exist ( out of anger of course.. fred was like five at the time and percy had blabbed to mummy ). and percy just had to prove his brother wrong.

percy absolutely loves music, and not classical music like most of the classic typical nerds either, but he enjoys listening to the weird sisters, and the hobgoblins. he's also a huge fan of a muggle band called coldplay.

percy is actually a very good cook and can cook just about anything you ask for, his mother began teach him when he was young and the hobby just kinda stuck around. he frequently cooked when his mother and father would leave for short periods of time and couldn't make it back in time to cook dinners.

percy hates nicknames, he only tolerates them from his family because he generally doesn't have a say in anything at all. he doesn't mind his friends giving him one but generally he just likes going by his name or at least the shortened version of it.

he loves cats. he would absolutely adore having a cat of his own, he's jealous of those around him because they get to be with a cat who loves and adores them on a daily basis while he gets a shitty owl who is on his last legs and can barely keep itself upright while flying.

percy was once a prankster like his younger twin brothers, he would go around playing pranks on his family and the family friends but after fred said those words to him once, he decided to put pranking aside and focus on school.

percy is an amazing writer and attempts to write his own novel about what it's like being a wizard in a family of seven wizards and not having a single space to just be alone in without someone needing something from him.

he never wanted to become a ministry worker, but several people made insults towards him about his career choice, so he chose something more attainable and easier to achieve.

percy is a lover at heart, but because of the way his peers reacted to love, he became the quiet lover who does things behind closed doors and prefers no pda out in public. but he isn't opposed to a kiss on the cheek or a peck on the lips here or there.

percy adores animals. any animal, domestic or non-domestic. he gets it from his brother charlie who spent a good chunk of his own childhood learning all he can about magical creatures and how ti care for them. percy actually had aspirations to become a magizoologist when he was very young but chose a very different path ( as seen above ).

percy and his parents have an odd relationship, while they both love all of their children the same, they tend to overlook him due to him being the middle child and the smartest out of the seven. arthur was the one who got him into the possibility of being a ministry worker as that would definitely pay the bills and help make life a bit easier for the future. while molly attempted to show percy every ounce of love she had for her children.

percy weasley despises his siblings on various different levels. he tolerates william and ron purely because they are the less chaotic of the bunch ( minus the seven years ron attended school). he loves charlie to pieces because charlie is the only one who ever truly cared or even bothered to take his thoughts into consideration. but charlie does get overbearing sometimes and tends to helicopter percy when they were children, which travels well into their teen and young adult years. william is just... too aloof for percy to follow through with, he never knows what he's doing or what he'll be doing. ginny and ron are constantly screaming at each other which makes studying or just relaxing to be very hard and stressful. fred and george are the bane of percy's existence, constantly pranking him every chance they got and never ever considered the consequences of their actions. they always belittled him and told him to calm down when he was simply just explaining how they should be careful. he loves how open-minded and carefree they are, plus they're rather smart and have a knack for charms and stuff.

#percy weasley #percy weasley headcanon #percy weasley headcannons #headcannons #headcannon #percy #weasley #harrypotter #harry potter #percyweasley #percyweasleyheadcannon #percyweasleyheadcannons #my percy weasley headcannons #personal percy weasley headcannons

[blooming-violets]

💔 heart break headcanon

I sat with this ask for quite a few days now. I thought it over whenever I went into my daydream world. I had about fifty ideas come and go but none stuck like I wanted.

Until tonight thanks to this picture of Andrew:

Time for some modern day, superhero Romeo and Juliet.

Let's do this!

Wilson Fisk, New York City's most powerful businessman, infamous crime lord, one of the most feared men in the state, mayor of the city...or as you like to call him...dad. He has his hands in every inch of this city and puppets it to his will. His extensive wealth is spent on spoiling his wife (your mother), Vanessa, and his only child (you). His businesses activities were not exactly something that was hidden from you. Both parents made it clear that danger followed your father wherever he went. You knew he was into shady business. One doesn't get power and wealth like he has without stepping on people on the way up the ladder.

Your life was spent inside a protective bubble. Privacy was not something you were used to. Armed guards followed you wherever you went, your internet activity was heavily monitored, and you were never allowed to have friends.

Your childhood was spent by your mother's side instead. She home schooled you, took you to museums, and gave you as much knowledge about the world as she could. She instilled her love and appreciation for art into you at a young age. Lucky for you, the city was crawling with art museums. The first place you were ever allowed to go alone (as alone as you could get with two body guards trailing behind you) was to The Metropolitan Museum of Art. It became one of your favorite places. Your happy place.

On this particular evening, you were wondering through the MET, making a straight line towards one of your favorite pieces of art work. Tonight, there was a young man standing in front of it. You pushed up beside him to admire the work together, craving any kind of human interaction you could get.

"Isn't it beautiful?" You asked him. "The Dissolute Household. Jan Steen is the master of creating the perfect depiction of domestic chaos."

The man turned his head to look at you with curiosity. His face was scruffed with stubble like he'd forgotten to shave this past week. He wore a red beanie to hide the overgrown, greasy hair poking out from under the brim. Dark bags deepened his bright brown eyes. He seemed to take in your outfit in comparison to his own. You were well dressed and put together, perfect posture, not a single hair out of place. The epitome of wealth and class. Meanwhile he looked like he shuffled in from an overnight bender and couldn't remember how he ended up in the museum but was just going with the flow to not draw attention to himself.

He gave you a weary smile, "I wasn't sure why I stopped at this one but I found it hard to look away."

"Steen is good at holding the observer's attention because there is so much to look at. That's him, in the painting, and his wife. It depicts a variety of sinful acts happening. He's lacing fingers with the maid behind his wife's back, his wife is clearly intoxicated, a bible is being trampled on the ground, there's broken bottles and food strewn about, someone is warding off the beggar at the door. Chaos and merriment all around. And above all of them hangs a literal basket full of future misfortune like a terrible fate hovering over their heads. The items in the basket promise poverty, disease, and bad luck. Steen enjoyed painting commentary into his work. Everyone always looks so happy amongst the chaos even with the darkness of reality hanging above them."

You never had chaos in your life. Everything was controlled and quiet.

The craziest thing to happen to you was when you were 13 and your mother woke you from a sound sleep. The two of you had to evacuate the house into a private helicopter and be flown to the airport. You heard shooting happening in the hallway as you ran but you never actually saw where it was coming from. The two of you then spent the next year in a beautiful home in Sicily. When you were finally able to return back to the city, your father had set up new, stricter measures of security. No one ever told you what happened that day and that kind of thing never happened again. Despite being terrified in the moment, it was the most excitement you'd ever experienced in your entire lifetime. Sometimes you longed to feel that again.

"I never really looked at art too deeply before," the man mumbled. He was quiet, speaking as if he was in a library, afraid to be scolded by a rude librarian. "At least not paintings. I'm more of a photography kind of guy."

Whoever he was, he was attractive in his own grimy kind of way. You found yourself wanting to lean in closer to hang onto every word he spoke. You'd never had a boyfriend before. Once you flirted with one of the younger guards assigned to you. You hooked up with him in a coat closet at a fancy party. That was your first and only time being intimate with someone. When your father found out, that guard disappeared from your life. You liked to pretend that he was just let go and fired but you knew the darker truth. That man was no longer alive.

You wanted to know this new stranger even with the threat of death hanging over his head. You needed excitement. You craved the idea of having someone to love. So, you introduced yourself. First name only. Last name's were off limits. He smiled. It was a nice smile. And told you his name was Peter.

The two of you spent the rest of the evening wondering around the museum together. You insisted on showing him all your favorite works. He would listen intently, like he really cared what you had to say, while you over explained every little bit of knowledge you had on each piece. You could tell he was hyper aware of the two men following behind you everywhere you went. Even if they were dressed in civilian clothes, it was obvious they stood out as your personal bodyguards. It was even more obvious when you leaned in extra close to Peter while he unleashed his own knowledge about a particular old photograph you two were staring at and a gruff, pointed cough echoed out behind you, making you immediately jerk back and take a step away from your new friend. They may be here to keep you safe and out of trouble but they were loyal to your father, not to you.

Before you left for the night, you made plans to meet Peter back at the museum next weekend. He asked for your number but you refused to give it to him. Not yet. If you wanted to see him again, you would have to do it carefully. Slowly.

It took two months of weekend museum visits before you worked up the courage to tell your mother about him. You were certain that the guards assigned to you had already informed your father you were meeting a friend every Saturday night. You wouldn't be surprised if he had full intel on every detail about Peter Parker's life neatly stacked into a binder in his office. No one mentioned it to you though so you never brought it up. Until now.

Peter had asked you out to dinner. Up to this point, the two of you had never left the MET property. That was your safe place but you both wanted more.

Bringing up the idea of dating had to be run by your mother first. She was the more reasonable of your parents. She valued romance, loyalty, and love. If anyone could help get your father on your side, it would be her.

It was over dinner in your shared penthouse apartment that you brought it up. Just the two of you...and the security standing outside the room.

"How did you and daddy meet?" You asked, keeping your tone casual.

Vanessa smiled at the memory, "You know this story all too well. I used to tell it you as a bedtime tale when you were a girl."

"I know but I want to hear it again."

"He wandered into my gallery one night. He was very entranced by a particular painting I was trying to sell. The one hanging up in our bedroom. Rabbit in a Snowstorm. I found him standing in front of it, quietly taking it in, and I knew I needed to know more about him. It takes a certain kind of man to appreciate a painting like that."

Funny how her story mirrored so similarly to your own. You pushed your food around your plate with the end of your fork as you hesitantly brought it up, "I met someone. At the museum. He was standing in front of one of my favorite paintings. We got to talking and next thing I know, we've explored the entire building. Head to toe. Every inch of of the place. He seems like an amazing person, mom. He loves listening to me talk about art and I love hearing him explain all the details of photography. I feel like we're on the same wavelength. I want to see more of him. He asked me out to dinner but I told him I would get back to him. You know how daddy can get..."

Vanessa sighed, studying your face and seeing a lovestruck, desperate look gazing back at her. You could tell you won her over with the story of your first meeting. She knew you were in your twenties and never had a chance to date before. You couldn't stay locked in your tower forever. "What's this man's name?" She asked.

"Peter. Peter Parker. He lives in Queens with his aunt. He's been helping take care of her ever since her husband died a bunch of years ago. He's compassionate and kind. He cares about other people. He had a really good heart, I can see it. Please, can you talk to daddy about it. I can't stand the thought of trying to get close to someone only for him to hurt them. I can't let him hurt Peter for being interested in me. That's not fair. I really want this to work out. Please, pretty please, will you talk to him."

And she did. With his begrudging blessing, you were allowed to date Peter.

Peter knew limited details about your life. He didn't know who your parents were or your last name. He just knew that you were the daughter of someone important and that you two needed to be careful. Strangely, he took it all in stride. He never seemed nervous by the fact he was always surrounded by loaded guns or constantly being watched. The potential danger hanging over his head never once phased him. You weren't sure if he was naïvely stupid or just really brave. You liked to think that he didn't care as long it meant he got to stick around you.

He was definitely in a different social class from your family. Peter didn't grow up with wealth. He'd never even left the state of New York before. That shocked you. Your mother and you loved to travel.

You upper class lifestyle was probably the only thing that ever shook him. He seemed to fidget and get uncomfortable the more fancy, high end places you brought him to. He preferred things to be more low key. You'd never stepped foot inside a McDonald's until he brought you there after a date to get McFlurrys. It was surprisingly delicious even if the floors stuck to the bottom of your feet as you walked.

The longer you two spent together, the more you fell in love.

Six months in, you decided it was the right time to tell him more about your life. You were sitting on a bench in the middle of central park. You liked this spot because the men following you had to stand further away and it put you two out of their direct ear shot.

Peter held your hand, his thumb brushing over your palm. You laced your fingers through his.

"I have something to tell you," you both spoke at the exact same time.

After a pause, the two of you broke into laughter.

"You go first," he offered. "Mine can wait."

"Did I ever tell you who my father is?" You knew the answer was no but you asked anyway.

He shook his head and shrugged, "I figured he was probably some politician or something. Someone important. That's why you always those guys following you. They keep you safe so that makes them alright in my book."

You nodded, "Yeah, I guess so. It sucks having them around but I guess they're useful if shit goes south. My dad is Wilson Fisk, you know, the big, giant business man and current mayor of the city. That's why those guys are always around. I thought it was probably time you knew since he invited you to attend our family dinner this weekend. He wants to meet the man I've been spending all my time with."

Peter tensed. He tried to play it off like he wasn't bothered but you noticed. His shoulders hunched and his back stiffened. You watched his jaw clench together and quickly loosen again as he forced a smile.

"Mayor Fisk, huh? He's your father? I didn't even know he had children." His voice was strained.

You slowly nodded, carefully taking your hand out of his grasp to place in your lap, you didn't like the reaction he was giving you. Something was wrong. You glanced over your shoulder to the guards a few few feet away just in case you need their help. "...Just one kid. Me. He likes to keep his family separate from his work and the public eye. There are bad people in the world who want to hurt him so he keeps my mom and I off the television and news as much as he can."

Peter chewed on the inside of his cheek. His shoulders still hadn't relaxed and he refused to look at you. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"Tell you what? That my dad was the mayor? What does it matter to you? It's not something I go shouting off the rooftops. It's not a big deal. I'm not the mayor. He is."

"Not a big deal?" He gave a stiff, dry laugh. "Do you have any idea the kinds of things that man has done? Your father has caused me-" He cut himself off with a heated grunt of annoyance.

Your brow furrowed and you leaned away from him, "What are you talking about, Peter? Why do you have anything to do with my dad?"

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, obviously thinking better of whatever he was planning on saying.

Tears welled up in your eyes at his reaction. You expected him to be mildly shocked or maybe even nervous about having dinner with the mayor but you didn't expect him to get angry as if he had a personal vendetta against your father. Even if he wasn't shouting at you, you knew what silent anger looked like. He was fuming.

"I don't know if I can do this," he huffed, still refusing to look in your direction.

You gave a soft gasp of shock, "What are you talking about? What are you saying?"

"I'm-" he glanced back at the the men who were still oblivious to the conversation being had. "I can't. I don't want to be associated with anyone who ties themselves with Fisk."

"Associated?" You voice heightened, causing your security team to take an interest in what was going on. You quickly lowered your voice again to ward them off. "The only way I'm associated with my father is when we have the occasional family dinner when he can spare the time."

Peter scoffed, "Yeah, right. You'd have to be stupid to not have any idea what shady shit he gets up to? Human trafficking? Drug trafficking? Weapon trafficking? Murder? Anything illegal, take your pick, and Fisk has his hands over it."

This was news to you. You assumed he got his wealth through shady business deals and backstabbing his opponents. You knew he had hit men who would kill for him if he asked them to. Maybe you just never wanted to think too deep about it. Your silence was all Peter needed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just can't."

He got up and walked away, leaving you silently crying on the park bench.

You made up an excuse for why Peter couldn't attend dinner with your family. You smiled and kept the sadness out of your face. Even though he hurt you, you knew what crying to your father would mean. Your heartbreak wasn't enough to risk his life over. You weren't your dad. Revenge and violence wasn't in your blood.

And maybe Peter was right. As you sat across from your dad at the table, you couldn't help but wonder how the rest of the world saw him. You wondered if your mother knew. She had to. They were in this together. You felt like a stranger in your own home. These people you knew all your life were no longer covered by their masks.

A week passed before Peter found you again. It was late at night. You were in your bedroom when there was a knock on the balcony door. That was unusual due to the fact that you were over 50 stories in the air and the balcony had no other entrance besides your bedroom.

You looked over, the bright lights of your room making it impossible to see out into the blackened night. You slowly stood up from your desk, your heart racing, as you grabbed a pocket knife from your drawer. You couldn't see anyone out there. It might have been a bird attempting to fly in the dark. You unlocked the door and stepped out into the crisp night air with your knife held at the ready.

There was no one.

You were alone. Your arm slumped back to your side, the knife loosening in your hand. Just as you were about to turn around to go back inside, chalking it up to your sleep deprivation, the presence of a body lowering behind you made you jump. Before you could let out a piercing scream to alert the guards, a heavy gloved hand clamped over your mouth. This was it. This was how you die.

You struggled against the mass pining your arms down but it was solid. You were no match for the intruder. A hushed voice whispered in your ear.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he hissed. "Stop struggling and I'll let you go. By the time you scream, I'll already be two blocks away so I'd rather you not try it. I'm here to talk."

It was Peter's voice. You had no idea how he got up here, your mind was going a million miles an hour, and you nodded. His grip around you loosened and you pulled away, whipping around to face him. Except that you weren't face to face with the Peter you knew. The sight of Spider-Man standing before you made you almost scream but you quickly clamped your hand over your mouth.

"Wha-" you stuttered out. "Peter?"

"Can I trust you?" He asked.

You weren't sure. If there was on thing your father hated, it was vigilantes. He'd go on long rants over his hatred of people like Spider-Man and Daredevil. They were the bane of his existence, always throwing a wrench in his plans.

The more you thought it, the more obvious it was that he wasn't a good man.

You nodded, making up your mind then and there, "Yes. I won't tell a soul."

That night Peter revealed his truth. It was a hard pill to swallow. The poor, disheveled man from Queens, your first love, was your father's sworn enemy.

You had many doubts. There was no way those two men could ever be put into the same room with each. Your family and Peter could never mix. You two stood on opposite ends of the equation.

But you didn't want to give him up.

And he felt the same.

The relationship progressed as normal and you vowed to stay out of whatever your father or Spider-Man had going on. That was not your concern. Peter wouldn't ask about him and you wouldn't ask about Spider-Man.

But that knowledge always hovered over your heads. Once the truth was out, there was no way to reverse what you knew.

You were the key to tipping the scales. You could destroy Peter Parker and Spider-Man by snitching to your father. Or you could destroy your family by feeding Peter private information.

There was only so long you two could pretend to ignore the obvious.

A time would come when you would have to chose between love or family. There could only be one winner in the battle between good and evil.

And, which ever way the scales tipped, a piece of your heart would be ripped out and buried alongside the loser.

AND I'M GOING TO STOP IT HERE because it's getting too long for something that was supposed to be simple headcanons. I'm very sleepy and have not proof read my mad ramblings so please excuse any forgotten words or mistakes. I'm tired old lady just trying to do my best.

#the amazing spiderman #tasm #peter parker #tasm peter parker #andrew garfield #tasm peter #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm x reader #tasm peter x reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman headcanon #tasm headcanon #tasm imagine #spiderman imagine #peter parker imagine #tasm peter imagine #ask game

[im-just-a-br0adway-baby]

Encantober 2023 Day 1: Sunset

The Madrigals just finished dinner and headed to the living room after cleaning up. The family continued talking and laughing with each other until Mirabel decided to go outside. After ten minutes, Bruno noticed Mirabel was missing and went to go look for her. He found her in the backyard and decided to sit with her.

 “Is there something going on?” he asked as he sat next to his youngest niece.

Mirabel scooted closer to her uncle. “I’ve been thinking quite a lot lately, about Casita and being the new guardian of the candle and whatnot, what if I’m not ready for it?”

There was a silence before Bruno could respond. That one question had so much to unpack that Bruno had no idea how to respond at first. He knew that Mirabel has had serious self esteem issues since she was five, so this was not the most abnormal question to come from her. At the same time, he also has seen all the changes she has gone through from the sidelines in the last decade; he would not have thought she would still be doubting herself this much.

“Why would you think you’re not ready for it?”

“Because, I’ve seen how hard it has been on Abuela recently. She has spent the last fifty years of her life giving so much to the Encanto that it seems like she’s starting to burn out. I get that she’s getting older, but once she dies, it will be my turn to guard the candle. How am I going to handle it?”

The uncle and niece took a glance at the sunset as Mirabel shed a tear. Bruno has seen his mother go through everything the last fifty years when she guarded the candle and ran the Encanto. Since the day of his and his sisters’ gift ceremony, the stresses of running the Encanto, along with the trauma of losing their father, have gotten to her so much that it was bleeding onto the rest of the family.

“Mirabel, I’ve seen so much that has happened in this family since your gift ceremony. One of those things was when you saved the miracle. Nobody in this family would be where they are right now if it weren’t for your determination. Look at how much happier everyone is now that the miracle is saved. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for you.”

Mirabel looked at the sunset again and wiped a tear. Bruno put an arm on her shoulder, and she felt another hand on her other shoulder. She noticed Bruno only had one hand on her, so she looked on her other side and saw Alma sitting beside her with her hand on her other shoulder. Even though there were two different hands on her shoulders, Mirabel oddly felt like lots of weight was taken off her shoulders.

“There’s no need for you to feel scared, Mira. As long as I’m still here, I will be here to guide you,” Alma said as Mirabel moved closer towards her. “I will teach you everything I know about being the guardian of our miracle and our Encanto as long as I’m still alive.”

Mirabel moved between her grandmother and her uncle and put her arms around both of them in an embrace. “You really think I have the potential to lead the family and the miracle?”

“I don’t think, Mirabel; I know. When I first met your abuelo Pedro, I noticed so much determination and perseverance in him that I never saw in anyone else. I also noticed a lot of self esteem issues in him that I also saw in you for all these years. He asked many of the questions I expected from him when we first got married. ‘Will I be able to support my family enough?’ ‘Am I going to be a good father?’ All of these questions that made him doubt himself and who he was going to be. I was the one who assured him that our future would be bright, when we build it together; and I was going to be there helping him be the best he could be. 

“When he died, that was when I became lost. I became a single mother of triplets and the guardian of an entire village overnight. That was when I thought I wasn’t going to be able to handle it. But that was when Casita helped me. Casita guided me through the process and it was difficult. I still thought I failed the family. But since you saved the miracle, look at what has happened since. You have single handedly helped me become a better matriarch for this family, saved this home, and saved the miracle all in one night! That is something you should be more than proud of.”

The trio looked at the sunset once more to see the bright pinks and oranges setting down on them as they spoke. They did not want that moment to end just because of how beautiful the sunset looked that night. Mirabel wanted to say something at first, but she did not want to interrupt the silence that was bringing them together again. Three wanderers wondering where their journey would lead to next, now brought together by the sunset that will soon fade in the matter of hours. 

“You know, Abuela, that talk made me feel a little bit better. I was scared I would be lost without you. But now that I would also have Casita helping me along with you, I feel a little bit more confident about guarding the miracle. Besides, since I did save the miracle, with some help from Bruno, that alone was enough to help me.”

“And remember; even after I’m gone, Casita will live forever. Casita will always be here to help you throughout the process.”

Mirabel, Alma, and Bruno continued to look at the sun as it turned from pink and orange to darker blues, and moved closer to each other to hug. This was the closest they have been for the longest time; they do not even remember the last time they talked with each other alone besides when Mirabel saved the miracle. They stayed in the backyard together to watch the sunset for another hour until Julieta came outside to see her mother, brother, and daughter sitting together in Casita’s backyard.

“Mirabel, it’s getting late. You should be getting ready for bed,” she said, leaning by the back door.

Mirabel heard her mother call her and she, Bruno, and Alma got up to go back in the house and get ready for bed. Once they got back inside, Mirabel ran up to Bruno and Alma as they went upstairs.

“Abuela, Tio Bruno, I just want to say, thank you for making me feel better. I think I’m going to do a great job being the next guardian.”

Alma and Bruno smiled at each other as they went back upstairs. Mirabel looked outside her room to see the sunset turned to nightfall and smiled at the moon. She giggled to herself before heading to bed.

#encanto #disney #disney encanto #disney's encanto #encantober #encantober 2023 #mirabel madrigal #abuela alma madrigal #bruno madrigal #day 1 #day 1: sunset #sunset #family bonding #encanto fic #encanto fanfic #encanto fanfiction #la familia madrigal

[liaromancewriter]

Stating the Obvious

Premise: Cassie struggles with the twins, and Ethan shows off his skills.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,470

A/N: Submission for @choicesjanuarychallenge Day 30, "Sleep". I'm also using @choicesflashfics week 15, prompt 3, which will be in bold.

Cassie Valentine had spent years studying, learning and training to become the best in her field. She wasn’t quite there yet, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.

It was just a matter of time. Patience. No one became an expert overnight. Not Naveen. Not Ethan. Not her. She wasn’t going to be an anomaly in that legacy.

Still, it was frustrating, she thought with a huff. She felt like a rookie all over again, and it was not fun.

Ethan didn’t have any issues telling the twins apart, while she, who had carried them inside her for almost nine months, constantly mixed them up. What kind of mother was she?

Well, no more. Today, she was going to apply a method that had worked well during her residency and her diagnostic fellowship. And it was foolproof.

She was going to study the heck out of the girls and wouldn’t stop until she cracked the code.

The Twin Code, she snickered, repeating the phrase she and Max used about their bond.

Cassie pulled up the armchair in the nursery and lowered the crib’s railing for an uninterrupted view of the girls. The girls were awake and in a good mood. They were also engrossed in each other, which meant she could watch them without interruption.

They cooed to each other, hands patting heads, feet kicking up in the air. Their giggles and laughter sounded more like kittens mewling. But it was a happy sound, and Cassie almost forgot her mission.

The clouds outside parted then, and sunshine broke through, brightening the room. The twins’ eyes widened as they watched tiny particles swirl in the light above their heads — like pixie dust — and tried to capture them in their fists.

Did Sophie reach first or Eloise? Was one more adventurous than the other?

The girls looked identical but were, in fact, fraternal. She and Ethan had received the DNA test results a few days ago to confirm. Nucleotides and molecular structures were invisible to the human eye and of no help whatsoever in this situation.

The girls had her green eyes, and the arch of their brow was also more Valentine than Ramsey. Their hair, though, would likely darken over time. It was somewhere between blonde and brown, changing shades depending on the light.

Alan told her that Ethan’s hair had been light brown as a baby before changing to dark brown as he grew older. So, Cassie fully expected their daughters to be brunettes.

Brown-haired, green-eyed girls, she thought.

Did Eloise’s hair curl at the edges more than Sophie’s? And was one more blonde than brunette? In this light, they were indistinguishable.

Hmm. This might have been easier if she’d thought to put medical ID bracelets on them first. She couldn’t run a successful experiment without determining Subject A from Subject B. Too late for that now.

She leaned forward and rested her chin on stacked hands at the crib's edge, putting her at eye level with the girls. The movement startled them, and they stopped their play to twist their tiny heads and stare back at her.

Cassie closed her left eye, hoping a single-focused vision would help her tell the difference. A couple of minutes later, she closed her right eye instead. She flipped-flopped between both eyes, but nothing changed.

Still the same, she thought, opening both eyes. She leaned back and drummed her fingers on the armchair.

“Want to help your mom out?” she asked, quirking one brow. “Why don’t I say your name, and you raise your hand, so I know which one is which?”

Their rosebud lips rounded into an O shape. She thought she saw the twins give each other a side-eyed look of disbelief, but it might just be her imagination.

“Okay. Will the real Sophie Clara Ramsey please stand up?”

Cassie laughed when nothing happened. “I guess you’re too young to get the reference. And can’t stand up yet either, so obviously, that won’t work.”

“What are you doing?” Ethan’s voice boomed from the entrance behind her.

At the sound of his voice, the girls became animated and started cooing loudly, their tiny arms flailing to catch his attention.

“Just playing poker with the girls,” Cassie replied and threw him a laughing look over her shoulder. “What do you think I’m doing?”

Ethan rolled his eyes at her amused exasperation. Unfolding his arms, he straightened away from the doorway and walked over to stand behind the armchair.

He placed one hand on her shoulder, and Cassie reached up to entwine their fingers, savoring the warmth of his skin.

“Are those Edenbrook medical ID bracelets?”

Cassie followed his gaze to the items on the side table and grimaced. She had intended to place them on the girls before she began her experiment but forgot.

“I had Bryce pick them up for me. You know. Souvenir.”

“But these are blank,” he said, puzzled as he picked one up. “The ones the girls wore are in the safe upstairs.”

“So, that’s where they went,” Cassie mumbled under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” she said breezily.

“I think it’s about time we stop avoiding the obvious,” Ethan said in a deliberately patient tone as he moved to stand in front of her.

“I’m quite sure I don’t know what you mean,” she said with a dismissive sniff, studiously avoiding his gaze as she smoothened the already smooth crib sheet.

“You can’t tell them apart, can you?” Ethan asked, amused.

Cassie glimpsed a grin on his lips, and her brows snapped together as she tried to stare him down. His amusement was contagious, and she chuckled, shaking her head.

She shot off the armchair and started pacing. “It’s so frustrating, babe! I should know, but they look exactly the same. How do you do it?”

Cassie stopped mid-pace to throw him a questioning look.

“If you must know,” Ethan said, turning away to raise the crib’s railing and lock it in place. “I had a hard time at first, too.”

The girls were no longer paying attention to their parents anyway. They were facing each other, eyes getting drowsy as nap time approached.

“But then I applied my superior diagnostic skills,” he smirked, hooking his arm around her waist when she joined him.

“Explain,” Cassie poked his stomach with her finger when he paused.

“It’s not in their looks, but in their personalities,” he said. “Eloise is usually the first to initiate, and Sophie follows along. Sophie likes to tuck her head when falling asleep while Eloise throws out one leg from under the covers.”

“But how do you know which is which?” Cassie insisted. “For all we know, it’s Sophie leading, not Eloise.”

“I suppose we don’t,” Ethan admitted in a reasonable tone. “Perhaps we should let the girls figure out which is which when they’re older.”

He laughed when Cassie swatted his shoulder. “Not funny, Ethan. I need to solve this mystery! You know how I get.”

“Fine, Dr. Valentine. I’ll share my diagnostic wisdom with you one more time,” he said magnanimously, folding her in his arms.

“Eloise favors her left hand while Sophie is right-handed. Sophie has three tiny freckles on her left hipbone, barely visible, but Eloise has none,” Ethan said, his blue eyes softening with each word.

“And unlike her sister, Eloise has dimples in her cheeks when she laughs. They still wore ID bracelets when I discovered the freckles, so it was just a matter of keeping track afterward. ”

Cassie stared unseeing at his shirt, a considering look in her eyes as she processed his diagnosis.

Now that she thought back, she had noticed the dimples and freckles. And the hand preference, too. During Tummy Time, Eloise often reached with her left hand first.

“Looks like you still had something left to teach me, Dr. Ramsey,” Cassie said eventually, grazing her lips along his jaw.

Ethan just smiled and took her hand in his.

They watched their girls yawn and struggle against sleep. But soon, their eyes started to drift close, and they snuggled close. Sophie did indeed tuck her head on her sister’s shoulder while Eloise threw her leg out, bending it slightly at the knee.

Cassie adjusted the blanket around the twins while Ethan lowered the window shade, and shadows filled the room. She switched on the mobile above the crib, and a soothing melody filled the air.

She followed Ethan out of the nursery and closed the door halfway.

“Got time to discuss more diagnostic principles?” Cassie said, gazing up at him coquettishly.

He pretended to check his wristwatch and then tugged at her. “You know I always have time for you, Rookie.”

When his lips brushed hers, Cassie deepened the kiss and proceeded to show him that, in this matter, she was no rookie.

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

All Fics & Edits: @a-crepusculo @annfg8 @bex-la-get @bluebelle08 @cariantha @choicesaddict5 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @mysticalgalaxysstuff @openheartforeverinmyheart @peonierose @takemyopenheart @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @vi-writes-stuff @zahrachoices

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @custaroonie @lady-calypso @hopelessromantic1352 @mrs-ramsey

#ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #choices open heart #choices fanfics #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #short story #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine #writers on tumblr

[junebugwriter]

I guess I never had much of a chance.

I just started watching Jessie Gender on Youtube's essay about masculinity and... it hit like a goddamn truck. So much of what she talks about in her past so closely mirrors my own, it's downright eerie. Down to the fact that I was an Eagle Scout. Although, to be fair, it sounds like she had a much better time in it than I did, considering I never really made many friends in my boy scout troop, and I never worked any of the camps.

But to the point... I really did echo a lot of her experience. I tried my hardest to be a man. To live up to the ideals of masculinity that society enforces. But I was never going to be anything close to that. I was always too fat, too sensitive, too emotional, and too unathletic to ever be anything close to Western Masculinity (tm).

I did try though. I was desperate to be seen as something close to approaching masculine, but it came out in such strange ways.

For those who don't know me in person, I grew up in the United Methodist Church, quite literally. My dad was a pastor all his life, and that's the only life I knew growing up. As such, we lived life "in a fishbowl," as we'd call it. That means we were supposed to be the Model Family. Above all reproach, under all scrutiny. If any of us stepped out of line, we were going to be reprimanded for it. Do you folks on here have any idea what that does to a kid? My parents loved me, to be sure, and I bear them little ill will. They did their best under the circumstances. But we were a religious family in Texas. There's very little non-conformity afforded to us. My mother, God bless her, she already bucked tradition. She wasn't exactly feminine, mostly. Sure, she wore dresses, wore makeup, even went square dancing with my dad. But she had little time for the trappings of femininity, and only wore them under obligation. She did not enjoy being a pastor's spouse, for the most part. She endured it, for my Dad's sake, but she made no secret that she wasn't going to pretend to be some Stepford Wife bizarro Tammy Faye Bakker. Not her.

So I grew up with my dad, a uniquely anxious person, stressed about how me and my brother were going to make it. My dad was a pretty old-school guy, but at heart he was a bleeding heart liberal, as much as one could be in Texas in the 80's and 90's in religious circles. There's not a single Democratic president he didn't vote for. He was Democrat til he dies. Yet... that could never be public knowledge. Not in the church. Not in Texas. So already, we became bearers of secrets. Mom isn't a pastor's wife. Dad isn't a Republican. And so we were taught to bear our own secrets.

I'm neurodivergent. I have ADHD. And I am almost entirely incapable of telling a lie. (Ask my partner, she knows!) But little secrets... that was a matter of survival. Little secrets, for the benefit of the Image. Everyone has them, I learned. But God help you if your secrets ever got out.

So I learned, and learned, and learned some more. I'd ask questions, and to their credit my parents answered most of them truthfully, if they could. But there were some things you do not question.

One of them was gender. But I did not know that word.

How could I?

Not in that environment. Not in the fishbowl. Not in Texas. Not in the church.

Girls did x, boys did y, and that's that. Girls were x, boys were y, and that's it. End of discussion. Black and white.

There were signs I did not conform. I loved the show Barney and Friends... until I overheard kids at school call it a show for girls and little babies. Not a show for boys.

Overnight I stopped watching.

I used to sleep with a blanket every night. I loved, adored that little blanket. I found solace in Linus from Peanuts, and his little blue blanket. But my father chafed at its ever-presence. He never said anything against it, but he didn't have to. I could tell. So my mother, God bless her, she stitched me and my brother some pillows with fun animal designs on them. They substituted for the blanket. Father approved, as they had things like tigers and killer whales on them, which were Boy Approved (tm) things to like.

But then there was the ladybug puppet. It was a cute little stuffed ladybug that fit on my hand, and it even had an extra leg so as to be anatomically accurate. I slept with that every night.

Until my mother told me that dad didn't want me to do it anymore. He was worried it was too "feminine." And she said it in a very sing-song voice, a teasing tone I grew all too familiar with.

So into the closet the puppet went. And me with it.

I became hyper-vigilant about what could be perceived as "feminine" from there on out. I watched what I did like a hawk, trying never to ever raise the annoyance or ire of my dad or my peers. But it was never enough. As anyone who has ever had to play that game of gender chess, there was never going to be any chance for someone who is a trans girl to ever be anything but, even if they didn't know that was what they were.

I didn't hear the word "transgender" until I was in grad school. By then, I had already felt a call to ministry. By then, I had long ago locked up all gender nonconformity in a closet back when I was in grade school. I had lost an entire childhood, teenhood, early young adulthood. And by then, I felt like they described what being trans was like, as if it was for someone else. Glad I didn't deal with that issue!

But I did. I simply did not allow myself to question things. Did not allow myself to break the box I was put in as a child. Because I was a white guy, going to be a pastor. I figured I would just be that all my life.

Life has changed about three times since then. I only allowed myself to ask myself the hard gender questions in October of last year. I was 35. I'm turning 36 this next month.

I'm starting my life over again, a fourth time. But I'm actually looking forward to the future, for the first time in my entire life.

Because now it actually exists.

#lgbtq #gender #transgender #childhood #church #religion #christianity #biography #jessie gender #ministry #united methodist church #texas #the south #queer #in the closet #trans femme #trans feminine #personal

[jeon-s-sins]

m.list

All works are plotted and written by me. Do not steal or copy ! Translations are not allowed !

Disclaimer: The stories on this profile contains mature content and strong language. Discretion is, however, required. Thank you 😁

Check the “Updates” section regularly to avoid missing your favorite stories and new works releases.

And If you enjoy my work, consider buying me a coffee.

↳ S T O R I E S Usually has thirty or more chapters.

✯ Moon's Sun │ ⏸️

➳ The angels had been fighting demons and all beings of darkness for ages. With all the battles that have taken place in recent years, the number of angels is dwindling. Unable to bear seeing their fellow Angels perish one after the other, the Angels and Archangels got together to try to find a way to stop the attacks and win against Lucifer and his followers.

↳ S H O R T S T O R I E S Do not contain more than ten or even fifteen chapters.

✯ Forbidden │⏸️

➳ YN is a 21-year-old girl whose mother became a famous designer. While she is working during the summer to make pocket money she comes across the young man, Jungkook who is 22 years old. Since that famous day, the two of them have been living an exciting carnal adventure. Later, they both discover that they are step-siblings. Not wanting to let what they have experienced fall into oblivion, they decide to secretly live their forbidden relationship.

✯ Middle Of The Night │✅

➳ In the world you lived in, humans were not the only inhabitants of Earth. For years, you had fantasized about your homeroom teacher without knowing his true nature. At night, you thought and dreamed only of him, unaware of the weight of your actions. What will happen when you finally discover what he is?

✯ Fighter │✍

➳ YN, a young student in her final year of a master's degree in international business, is forced to move. She is in a “bad” part of Seoul, without much income. Prostitution, drugs, and violence are commonplace, and the police think twice before setting foot in the area. Jungkook, a young student living alone in this cruel world, is forced to fight underground to earn money to pay for his rent and expensive studies. Unfortunately, the two young people meet in a very inconvenient situation and will see their lives change overnight.

↳ O N E S H O T S Contain a single part only.

✯ Heat │✅

➳ You're in your mating season, but you can't tell Jungkook, your mate, because he's busy with more important things, and you don't want to disturb him. His uncle has just declared war on him, and Jungkook is busy finding allies and developing a reliable strategy to save his skin and his pack. You told him you'll go to your parents, who live in another pack. But what will happen when Jungkook finds out the truth?

✯ Viagra prank on best friend │✅

➳ Enjoying the sunny day, you were having a nice quiet day in the park with Jungkook and the rest of your friends. But your peace was short-lived when one of your friends, Park Jimin, decided to let his little goblin dictate his actions and kept harassing you all day long. With revenge running through your veins, you chose to make him pay. But what happens when your spell falls on someone other than your target?

Translations, republications, and rewritings of my stories are not allowed. Failure to comply with this request will result in legal action.

© Jeon_s_Sins

#jeon-s-sins #masterlist #m.list #yaya #moon's sun #bts fanfic #bts short stories #bts one shot #JK forbidden #middle of the night #bts smut #jk smut #teacher/student #heat #jk werewolf #jk fighter #jk fic #jk prank gone wrong #jk underground fighter

[kosher-martian]

My parents are moving and it's the most disastrous series of unforced errors ever.

For context, my grandparents retired in the late 80s / early 90s with a very healthy nest egg, having made their careers and retired at the peak of American Capitalism. Between Social Security, military pension, and pensions from their careers, they were made for life.

They lived in the middle of nowhere playing pretend farmer/rancher/cowboy, far away from any medical resources or modern conveniences. There was a small grocery store and hardware store nearby, but anything else was 30-40 minutes away from their stupid little farmhouse. Hospital? Doctors? 45 minutes away minimum, usually an hour or more once traffic was factored in.

As they got older, it was increasingly difficult for them to live independently because of how far removed from everything they were. Independence came with ever-increasing costs: Home healthcare visits, house cleaning services, and grounds keeping services (among others) all paid for out of their copious pensions. Eventually it became a combination of all of those things plus my mother and aunt visiting them multiple times a week (over an hour drive just to get there) to make sure all of their needs were being met.

Even I eventually got roped into helping them maintain their faux independence. I tried to convince them to move back to civilization, but it was more important to them to maintain their fake farmer/rancher/cowboy lifestyle. In the end, they had to be forced into a nursing home pretty much against their will. It was not a fun period and I'm not keen to revisit it.

My parents retired recently. They will be trying to make ends meet on Social Security plus whatever remains in their 401Ks. Their 401Ks are a disaster because they made no attempt to manage them until right before they retired, at which point it was too late to make any changes that might affect the outcome. But that didn't matter because they wanted to retire anyways.

They have a home in the city, 15-25 minutes away from their doctors and surrounded by hospitals, standalone ERs, and urgent care clinics. There are grocery stores, hardware stores, and every conceivable kind of specialty shop within a stone's throw. To my knowledge, until very recently their plan was to live in their current home until they died. They hadn't really settled on what they would do with my grandparents' home. My siblings and I encouraged them to sell it and put the money towards their retirement. My parents were not committed to the idea. Then the pandemic came. Almost overnight, it seems, they changed into radically different people.

While my dad is fairly outgoing, my mother has always been borderline agoraphobic. As far as I know she has no friends. The closest thing she has to a friend besides my dad (with whom she has nothing in common) and my aunt (who at best loathes her) is me. Did I mention my mother is a hoarder?

My mother LOVED quarantine. She was content to sit at home, watch television or read books, work from home, and then text me nonstop all day long (to the point that it was impacting my productivity at work and making me lose sleep). She still texts me nonstop.

She retired in the middle of the pandemic and now had even more free time; time she spent reading regurgitated reddit threads from those low-effort BuzzFeed knockoffs, writing fanfiction, and watching hours-upon-hours of television.

My dad did not like quarantine nearly as much, but he loved that he was incentivized to watch endless hours of television, play video games, and play on his iPad; activities he already enjoys.

I cannot overstate just how much television my parents watch. We're talking easily 14-16 hours each day, usually binge watching a single show or alternating between two different shows, and at most breaking for an hour to go buy lunch (which they eat in front of the TV) or maybe go to a doctor's appointment.

For the last 5 years, their daily TV consumption consists of Yellowstone, those HGTV home renovation shows (in particular Home Town), the storage unit auction show, and those travel channel shows that are just extended commercials for cruise lines.

All of a sudden their retirement plans changed. Now they want to move into my grandparents' old house in the countryside and play pretend farmer/rancher/cowboy AND also pretend home renovator AND go on a series of cruises they can't afford. It's like watching them toss their meager life savings into a burning dumpster.

I reminded them of how difficult it was for our grandparents to remain independent as they got older. "We're still young," they said.

I reminded them that our grandparents' independence came with high costs that they themselves will be unable to afford. "Don't worry about that now," they said.

I reminded them of how much time and energy they spent checking in on our grandparents and how me and my siblings don't have (and can't really foresee) the same standard of living that even my parents enjoyed. "You'll love visiting us in the country. We have so many plans for the house!" they said.

They've spent the better part of 18 months burning through their savings so they can live out the shows they see on TV. They've paid for a complete home makeover for my grandparents' stupid house, which included:

A costly asbestos abatement

All new appliances

Rewiring the house

Reupholstering much of the furniture in my grandparent's home plus more than a few pieces from their house in the city

Buying new furniture to replace the pieces they didn't want from either home

$20k for a top-of-the-line natural-gas powered generator (one strong enough to power a small restaurant) so they never have to worry about power outages

Art restoration for almost every painting in their current home plus a number of paintings my grandparents had

And they even renovated my grandparents' two barns!

By the way, they largely didn't clean out my grandparents' house, they just paid the contractor to dump everything in the barns after they were renovated.

They decided on March 1st that they want to move out completely by the end of March, which has forced my siblings and I to spend all of our available time helping them shovel out 30 years worth of my mother's compulsive hoarding. It never quite reached the point of the Collyer Brothers, but it did get to a point that our bedrooms were only nominally ours. We lost all functionality of the combination dining room / rec room around 2005. After 2018, neither of my siblings' bedrooms were even accessible. They want to move by April Fools Day.

I'm still cleaning out "my" room (only the upper layers of the piles of hoard were ever mine). I learned recently that my bedroom actually has a closet. I lived in that room for over 20 years thinking I never had a closet. I decided last night that I won't take anything. This will upset my mother. She envisioned "cleaning my room" as "taking everything somewhere else so she doesn't have to see me throw away anything". She has fought me on every item I have thrown away. I don't care about her feelings on the subject anymore.

She won't stop texting me about how much fun we're all going to have visiting them in the country, or how I need to hurry up and finish cleaning out "my" bedroom, or that I should be a good son and make time to help them go through everything they shoved into the barns. Maybe I should even take some of it (all of it preferably) because they won't have room for all of it once their stuff is moved in. Can't I help? Pretty please?

They've become completely unmoored from reality. My dad will just randomly force strangers at the grocery store to swipe through before and after pictures of their reupholstered furniture. My mother is talking in various fake accents (from her best approximation of "British" to Antebellum Southern drawl to 1940s Mid-Atlantic to that generic fake accent all modern country musicians use). They call me at all times of day. They don't care that I'm working or trying to sleep because I have work the next day. My needs don't matter anymore, only their wants matter.

EDIT: While I was typing this my dad sent me a before/after picture of a bookshelf they had restored.

When it became evident that I should probably wear a respirator and gloves to handle anything in the lower levels of my mother's hoard, she became upset. "It's not that bad! You're overreacting!" she said. Their home is a biohazard. They will never find a buyer for their home. the exterior is okay, but inside is wrecked beyond your wildest imagination. They are still ticked at my siblings and I because none of us could afford to buy their home nor did we express any interest in buying it at a significant discount. Whomever they convince to buy the home will need to gut it.

I'm honestly done with them. I don't think this personality shift is temporary. I just think it's who they are now. They've become selfish, shortsighted, incredibly inconsiderate, and unfathomably weird. Nothing I say has made a difference. I did everything I could to convince them they were making a mistake. I live with the existential dread that they are banking on me and my siblings helping them solve their problems when it inevitably hits the fan. Screw that! Luckily I live in a state without filial responsibility laws.

I will not be rescuing them and neither will my siblings. I will not be visiting them or sacrificing my time and energy when they could have just sold that stupid farmhouse and put the proceeds towards saving for their advanced age. For reasons I will never understand, it is more important that they get to play the characters they see on TV than it is to plan for a future when they are old and infirm. I get it, one is fun and one is not. Surely they can see that we're at the same age they were when they became parents. They had a house, two new-ish cars, & young kids. Meanwhile we live in miserable shoebox apartments, with cars that have 200,000+ miles on the odometer, and no path to home ownership in the foreseeable future.

But go on ahead. Go play Yellowstone. Go play Home Town. I hope whatever fleeting happiness they squeeze from their experience can fill the miserable void in their lives. I don't have the gas money to drive 100 miles round-trip to visit them every week vs the 40 miles round-trip I make now. They are making it harder and harder for me to see them. Once they are out of sight, they will be out of mind. They just don't realize it yet.

#childhood #moving #hoarder #hoarder parents #baby boomers

[zablife]

If your headcanon requests are still open please could I request a headcanon for Jack and his breeding kink because though I'm not sure if it is Canon I feel like it should be.

Hi, lovely! 💗 You are so right, Jack has a massive breeding kink (at least in my AUs). It's sweet when you think about it because he just loves his little wife so much he can't help himself. You can find my head canons under the cut. It got filthy...sorry not sorry.

Jack’s Breeding Kink (Warning: 18+, smut)

*Jack had never thought much about children when he was single. He was focused on climbing the social ladder and not much else. However, he was aware he needed someone by his side as he became more respectable. 

*When he met you, he knew he had to have you. Jack had always been a possessive man. He wanted to own you completely and soon you were so in love with him you desired to belong to him as well.

*He didn’t like the idea of you dating anyone else so he proposed fairly quickly, hoping the ring on your finger would send a clear message to others that you were taken. 

*He knew he was making a good choice when he saw you play with children. He thought you would make a wonderful mum. 

*It didn’t hurt that you were gorgeous as well, with a lovely hour glass figure. He loved your hips and thighs most, an innate desire for someone who could bear lots of children to carry on his name. 

*He longed for sons to help him run his business and daughters he could spoil like little princesses. In order to hasten his plans, he made love to you often, which you thoroughly enjoyed as you had a high sex drive like Jack.

*He liked to take you from behind and watch your ass push back toward him for more. You may have acted like a subservient wife in public, but you were equals in the bedroom and you never shied away from asking for what you wanted. 

*It made Jack feral when you would beg for his cum in a needy voice. “Please, Jack…Please, I need to feel you fill me up."

*Similarly, he made no secret of his wish to impregnate you. He loved cumming inside your warm heat and liked to stay seated inside you until he softened to keep in every drop. You would lie on your side with him spooning you and leaving gentle kisses along the back of your neck, praising you for being such a good wife. 

*When you finally fell pregnant, he would be overjoyed at the news, placing feverish kisses to your lips in thanks for having his child. 

*While pregnant he would be overprotective of you, but you couldn't stay cross with him when he was looking after you so well. Anything you asked for would be provided seemingly overnight. There was no end to the lengths he would go to spoil you. 

*He also enjoyed attending functions to show you off, running a hand over your swollen abdomen to signal he had laid his claim successfully. 

*After the birth, he would be so overcome by your natural instinct to mother his child, it would make him hard just thinking about seeing you round once more. 

*You wanted a large family as well and quickly returned to his bed, only to find yourself pregnant soon after. And on it continued as the Nelson dynasty grew. 

#ask box #Jack Nelson head canons

[somemovieguy]

Horror Genius: Ari Aster

November 12th, 2023 (Blog #5)

One of the modern horror geniuses, Ari Aster had an incredible breakout in 2011. He had previously released other short films, but this one, The Strange Thing About the Johnsons (2011), went viral. No one knew his name, but everyone was talking about this, for lack of a better word, insane family drama. There isn’t much you can say about it without spoiling it, so I’ll leave it at that (but you should absolutely watch it, its on YouTube and its only 29 minutes long). So, even though the public didn’t really know who he was after this, people knew about what he had created. This film was actually his thesis project for graduate school at AFI Conservatory, and he went on to make a few more before his feature length debut in 2018 with Hereditary.

Saying that Hereditary was a massive success would be an understatement. This film, aside from thrusting Aster into the mainstream, was extremely monetarily successful (it was actually the highest worldwide grossing film ever released by A24 in 2018 until it was replaced in 2022 by Everything Everywhere All At Once), and it became a horror staple almost overnight. For many horror enthusiasts, Hereditary was like a breath of fresh air. Many (including myself) consider it to be a work of genius: rather than the cheap jump scares that modern horror is known for, this is a slow, deep, dark film with horrifying visuals and a traumatizing backstory. It makes you question the intentions of those around you, and leaves you feeling anxious after every viewing. It is filled with the tiniest details that relay a story with years upon years of careful planning. It is, even now, Aster’s magnum opus (to me).

The most popular of his works, though, is probably Midsommar (2019). He had his entire life to plan out Hereditary, a film instantly loved by horror enthusiasts everywhere, so following up with another incredible horror film only one year later was no easy feat. This one also proved to be a slow burn horror, but Aster decided to flip the expectations of horror viewers even more than he had with Hereditary: this one was bright. Can you name a single other horror movie where nearly all of the scares occur in broad daylight, in an open space? It is truly incredible that he could take a beautiful, bright, open field and make it the setting for unearthly horrors. Though Midsommar is not a perfect 5 stars to me, it is still an incredible work of art that deserves to be seen (multiple times at that). Hereditary is still the better movie in my opinion, but I feel that Midsommar is more impressive for what it accomplished.

This year, Aster released another long-awaited feature length film, Beau is Afraid. Aster had actually been formulating this work since his short film days with The Strange Thing About the Johnsons. He released a short simply titled Beau in 2011 which ended up being adapted into a sequence in the feature film. This film, which has been described by Aster as the “Jewish Lord of the Rings”, follows the title character, a shy man with anxiety issues, through a day in his life (and a visit with his mother). It is more of an anxiety-inducing dark comedy than a horror, but it is terrifying enough that I believe it fits as a horror in Aster’s trilogy so far. This is probably my least favorite of his films so far, but it is quite literally nightmare fuel, and deserves your attention!

Ari Aster has been creating films for over a decade now, and I cannot wait for him to release more. Everything he releases has this inherent sense of anxiety that sticks with the viewer long after their viewing. I don’t think a single movie of the 2010’s affected me to the extent that Hereditary did, and Midsommar is right behind it. His films are genuine works of art, and I hope he keeps getting the funding to create the same insane projects he has been making with A24 for years to come.

#ari aster #midsommar #hereditary #beau is afraid #the strange thing about the johnsons #a24 #a24 films #a24 horror #a24 movies

[elxctrics]

the dupont family

“born of confusion and quiet collusion of which mostly i've known. a modern day woman with a weak constitution, 'cause i've got monsters still under my bed that i could never fight off.”

sterfanie josephina ‘steffy jo’ moreno-dupont (deceased, died in 2010 at age 58)

michael ‘mikey’ dupont (71 years old)

felicity dupont (25 years old)

tw: post partum depression, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, verbal abuse, death/overdose.

michael dupont was born in manchester, england to an english socialite for a mother and a french hotel mogul of a father. as their only son, his father had dreams of him taking over the family business after he passed, but mikey was never interested. a rebellious boy - he hated rules and school and anyone telling him what to do and dreamed of being someone that never had to be tied down or obligated to anyone. he was his father’s biggest disappointment and he had no problem letting him know that often. so, when he was sixteen years old, he decided that he was going to become a rockstar. he packed one bag, made his way to america at just sixteen years old and never looked back.

stefanie josephina moreno was born in havana, cuba to a single mother and a father that she never knew. growing up, she was simply known for being the most beautiful girl in havana and helped her mother pay rent by singing on the street for money. she spent her nights curled up by the little radio that her and her mother had in their tiny little apartment, listening to music and dreaming of being one of those girls on the radio. and her mother knew this dream of hers and knew that her voice was one that the world needed to hear. so she saved every penny she could, even going without food sometimes, and gifted the money to stefania on her sixteenth birthday - enough money for a ticket to america. she promised her she was going to become a star. she packed one bag, made her way to america at just sixteen years old and never looked back.

woodstock, 1969. it was the end of the sixties and while jimmy hendrix was shredding on the guitar, their eyes met in the crowd and that was the start of it all. if there was a textbook definition of ‘love at first sight’, it would have been the moment that they met. after the festival, they moved in together and began creating music, alongside a few friends they met along the way, formed a band called steffy jo and the six and almost overnight, became world wide rock and roll sensations. however, it wasn’t as glamorous as it seemed. because while they pumped out hit after hit and sold out tour after sold out tour, fame and fortune got to steffy and mikey’s heads in the worst ways - they were constantly at each other’s throats - whether it was creative differences or because steffy walked in on mikey with another girl...or girls or because mikey caught steffy kissing the drummer. their relationship was drug fueled, alcohol induced and incredibly toxic. but that didn’t stop them from marrying and playing the role of happy and in love when they were on stage together.

when steffy jo and mikey dupont were 45 years old in 1997, they already had 20 years of fame, scandals, sex, drugs and rock and roll under their belts. they had been touring with their band since the 70′s, traveling the world, selling out stadiums and living the true rockstar dream. they answered to no one and did whatever they wanted and even in their mid 40′s, they were just as messy as they were when they first started out. however, all of that came to a screeching halt when steffy jo found out she was pregnant.

steffy jo never wanted to be a mother and wanted to terminate the pregnancy as soon as she found out. but mikey was adamant that she keep the baby - that this baby was going to be proof that despite all of their make ups and breakups, that they were going to make it. and steffy was too much of a whimsical dreamer for her own good, and she believed every lie that mikey threw her way. steffy’s pregnancy was probably the only time that the couple was stable and on a cold and snowy evening, while their tour bus was driving through new york city after steffy jo and the six had played yet another sold out show at madison square garden, felicity stefanie dupont was born on the back of their tour bus, wrapped up in her mother’s infamous stage scarf until they made it to the hospital.

steffy jo went into shock shortly after felicity was born. the motherly instincts didn’t kick in and instead, she felt nothing but resentment for her little baby girl that had her eyes and couldn’t even stand to hold her, let alone look at her. it was then that she started turning to hard drugs to deal with what was obviously a severe case of post partum depression that she didn’t want to acknowledge or get treated. both she and mikey kept living their life as if felicity didn’t exist - pawning her off on nannies and whatever help was around instead of taking care of her themselves and simply using her as a prop when necessary to paint this false picture of a happy family in paparazzi pictures or magazine spreads. 

 throughout her entire childhood, felicity was raised on the road. however, the reality of what being a parent was something that the dupont’s never understood. they simply hired nanny after nanny to stay on the tour bus and in hotels with their young girl and they went back to their regularly scheduled programming of debauchery and fame, the promises that mikey had made to steffy about them being this perfect little family came crumbling down almost immediately. steffy never wanted to be a mother and if mikey was allowed to enjoy his freedom, so was she. felicity was too young to understand what was going on. her nanny would tell her tales of her parents being international superstars and that they were busy sharing their music with the world and she admired them for it, wanted to be just like them. in their rare sober moments, they’d take felicity to the studio and teach her all about music. the girl knew every instrument and had a voice that mirrored her mother’s. and her view of her parents was just as skewed as the view the rest of the world had of them. she adored them and wanted to be just like them, even though she spent her nights being locked away in the back of the tour bus by her nanny covering her ears so she didn't hear the sounds of them screaming and glass shattering.

when felicity was only eight years old, a years long affair that her father was having with a model was revealed, and the iconic mikey and steffy broke up for good and steffy jo and the six was no longer. mikey went on and basically completely abandoned felicity and steffy, starting his own solo career that was an immediate success, but steffy struggled. she attempted her own solo career, but drugs and depression completely took her over and she could barely even function and she didn’t want to, not even for the sake of her daughter because at the end of the day, felicity was the daughter that she never wanted. and through her drug fueled rage and nights of anger, she always made it be known to the girl that she was in fact, never wanted. she never showed her daughter any kind of warmth or empathy and she was always someone felicity feared. she dreaded moments that she was left alone with her because it meant that she had to take care of her - had to drag her off the floor and into bed or hold her hair as she threw up after a rough night out or force water down her throat when she was having a bad trip. and through all of this, felicity held onto the hope that one day, her mother would thank her, or even just love her a little bit. but she never did. and she never failed to make felicity feel like it was her fault that mikey left them.

it only took five years for steffy to succumb to her addiction. felicity found her dead in the motel they were living in at the time in 2010. she was out with her nanny that day and when they returned and found steffy jo unresponsive on the floor, felicity didn't even shed a single tear. she realized then and there that the woman she had hoped she'd become was just something she made up in her head and that her mother's love was something she'd never have and that she'd have no choice but to live the rest of her life with this giant hole in her heart that no one would be able to fill. felicity was sent off to live with her father. however, mikey wasn’t greeted with the big eyed little girl with flowers in her hair who loved music just as much as her parents, he was greeted with a girl who had nothing but hate in her heart for what her parents had put her through and a girl who had blamed him for all of it.

by fourteen years old, felicity had emancipated from her father and was living under the guardianship of her manager. she let go of any dreams that she had of music, not wanting to be anything like her parents and pursued a career in acting, wanting to prove to the world that she wasn't going to be a giant fuck up like them. it’s been eleven years since felicity has spoken to or seen her father but now that the man is 70 years old and he’s slowing down, he’s starting to feel the immensity of regret for everything he’s done. however, he can’t face felicity. because he had hurt her too much and looking at her reminds him of her mother, who’s death he blames himself for. so, he watches her from afar, wishing he would’ve done things differently.

as far as how felicity feels about her parents, she can’t imagine looking at a child and not wanting to give them anything but the best possible life. she has no empathy towards her father and while she used to feel the same about her mother, as she’s gotten older and has gone through similar substance abuse issues and the downfall of her own reputation after spending the first half of her career with a pristine image, she feels like she’s just starting to understand the woman she’ll never get to ask ‘why’ to. but perhaps some things are better left unknown.

#hillztask #felicityheadcanons

[ignrance]

everything  there  is  to  know  about  charlotte  wilson  . 

application :

savannah  smith  .  she  +  her  .  cis  -  woman  .  ›  spotted  at  the  met  steps  ,  charlotte  “charlie”  wilson  ,  most  likely  listening  to  helena  by  my  chemical  romance  with  their  airpods  pro  .  the  twenty  -  six  year  old  gained  quite  a  reputation  ,  known  to  be  -frustrating  yet  +irresistible  to  anyone  who  knows  them  .  you'll  easily  spot  them  when  you  hear  about  the  static  feedback  of  a  microphone  when  you  sing  in  it  a  bit  too  loud  ,  the  clinking  chains  of  a  bike  riding  down  a  hill  at  a  speed  that’s  faster  than  you  anticipated  ,  the  sound  of  conversation  that  hushes  into  faint  murmurs  when  you  walk  into  a  room  &  screaming  into  your  pillow  even  though  no  one’s  around  to  hear  it  anyways  ,  followed  by  dior’s  poison  girl  .  latest  nepoupdates  article  talks  about  another  one  bites  the  dust  :  charlotte  wilson  photographed  still  dressed  in  last  night’s  clothes  and  leaving  yet  another  hotel  room  after  a  long  night  out   ,  but  i  guess  any  reputation  is  good  reputation  .

statistics :

name : charlotte " charlie " evangeline wilson birthday : september 25th birthplace : houston , texas age : twenty - six occupation : singer - songwriter ( hayley williams / paramore cc ) , performer , somewhat of a youtube personality on the side

career :

i  miss  you  by  blink  -  182  cover  ,  video  that  sent  her  soaring  to  virality  ,  uploaded  in  2014 

decode  &  i  caught  myself  ,  debut  ep  ,  released  in  2016 

all  we  know  is  falling  ,  debut  album  ,  released  in  2017 

riot  !  ,  sophomore  album  ,  released  in  2019 

took  a  hiatus  in  2020  to  focus  on  school  for  a  while 

riot  !  tour  from  2021  leading  into  the  first  half  2022 

took  a  break  for  the  second  half  of  2022  and  first  half  of  2023 

currently  writing  /  recording  her  next  album  ,  brand  new  eyes  ,  since  fall  of  last  year  ,  of  which  playing  god  will  be  the  lead  single  (  to  release  some  time  this  spring  ) 

past :

tldr : just a girl having fun , comes from the carter family who are a bunch of tech moguls ( women owned , of course ) and basically her family is split because her mom decided to marry / start a family with a rock star instead of marrying someone of more “ notable “ stature like a CEO or someone like that . charlie has one brother , she herself was an accident but that doesn’t mean they loved her any less , she grew up spending most of her childhood on tour with her dad where she learned to play guitar when she was young and hasn’t really put it down since . started living like a normal person when she was thirteen , went to school did the whole nine yards but when she was sixteen she posted a cover of one of her dad’s songs on her youtube channel and litrally went viral overnight . had a bunch of record deals shoved in her face but didn’t want them because she was young and scared so she just kept making music on her own . went to college , studied finance , got a nine to five and then wanted to rip her hair out so she quit and making music and fucking around became her full time job .

you’re a happy accident , emphasis on both the happy and the accident . your mom comes from tech royalty , CRTR ( pronounced carter ) leading the pack in technological innovation ever since the 80s , a long line of strong smart women that would soon be torn apart only because your mother chose love over money . she falls in love with the man who would become your father ,  a rockstar ( think a travis barker of sorts )  who’s mostly exaggerated reputation was one that precedes him ,  and naturally your grandparents hate him for it . it completely tears apart your family , carter stocks tanking along with the family image when the public comes to find out that one of melissa carter’s darling daughters has gotten herself pregnant before she married , and in turn getting exiled from the  line of succession . 

it’s impossible to not fall in love with music . the first half of your life you grow up in a tour bus , surrounded by lots of love and sounds, earmuffs covering your tiny ears as your watch your dad from the side of the stage . any and all free time spent insufferably banging around on drums , watching your parents and their friends try not to laugh as you force them to listen to the new sequence of arrhythmic patterns you’ve managed to stitch together and call a song . when you’re nine you pick up a guitar for the first time and it just feels . . . right . the strap rests so comfortably around your shoulders  , your fingers so perfectly attuned to the weight of the neck in your hand ⸻ from then ,  you’ve never looked back . free guitar lessons had to be one of your favorite perks that came with having a rockstar for a dad , by the time you’re twelve you have at least half of their ten year discography ingrained into your hand by muscle memory , so much though that sometimes ( but only if you’ve done all your homework and chores AND have been extra nice to your brother ) he lets you come on stage and play it with them . 

at thirteen tour is over , and you and your family have to adjust to living a  ‘ normal life ‘ , you move to LA , close to your dad’s work and far enough away from your mother’s family that you’re not forced into the displeasure of seeing them too often , even if they don’t want to see their daughter they certainly want to see you , likely secretly holding onto hope that you’ll be able to restore integrity to your side of the family ( spoiler alert : that doesn’t end well ) . you’re not sure if you love your grandparents or if you’re simply appreciative of them , their money is part of the reason you get to live the way that  you live , their name plastered along the sides of multiple buildings giving you a free ticket to any prep school you want , any college you want ⸻  any life you want , if you play your cards right . 

you start making your own music when you’re sixteen . it’s nothing crazy , an acoustic song here , a guitar arrangement there , you don’t really mean for it to be another other than a silly way to pass your time until a video of you covering one of your dad’s songs , i miss you ( blink - 182 ) , goes completely viral . it’s kind of scary actually , how your entire life you think you’ve known the music industry inside and out but really you don’t . no one could have prepared you for how many sleazy ceos and producers would come out of the woodworks , trying to poach you for less than you’re worth until your mom takes the liberty as stepping in as your manager . she keeps your head on the ground ,  makes sure you focus on the music ( and school ) before anything else , completely unwilling to let her daughter fall into fame so young . 

begrudgingly , you promise your family that you’ll get a degree before any of this spirals completely out of your control . you honestly think you might like life better the way that other people do it , go to college , get a job , work that job for fifty years until you retire and spend the rest of your life in a retirement home in the florida keys . a life away from the chaos , a life that was normal . you study finance and economics and college and you’re shockingly pretty good at it , maybe it’s the unpredictability of the stock market that gives you that fix of adrenaline instead of the fast paced life you were born into . you get your degree , get a job at a highrise in manhattan , working nine to five , staring at excel sheets for so long that most days you have a migraine before lunch . is this really what you thought life was supposed to be about ? that doesn’t last much longer than a month , with your father’s help you sign one of the many record deals that’s been shoved in your face over the last few years and you quit your job within the same week . 

throughout the next few years you live life the way you really want . you make music , you stay out late , you party , you drink , you dance , you have fun . you don’t think it’s a bad thing but the media seems to want to jump at the chance to make you some sort of villain , photos of you doing stupid shit constantly plastered over tabloids and gossip websites , even once alleged to be a homewrecker after they catch you trying to sneak out the side door of someone’s house with your clothes on crooked ( he was just a friend but she was definitely feeding into the rumors just for the laugh ) . your music is a hit , first studio album , brand new eyes , climbing the billboard hot 100 where it peaked at 6 on the domestic charts and 2 on the top rock albums chart , solidifying your name and your sound as one of the new up and coming faces of alternative rock . 

misc. info 

she rides her bike everywhere she can , it’s a red beach cruiser with a little basket on the front for all of her Things 

she has a cat!! a russian gray named helena and that is her baby fr 

her signature hair color is RED !!! sometimes it’ll be black or brown but when it’s red that’s how you know something Real is about to happen

#( introduction ) #did not proof read this that's my business

[gamerbearmira]

Agustin came to a stop, looking over the area before him. It had taken three days to gather all the items needed for the two week long camping trip he had planned with Mirabel, and nearly two thirds of the day to get to the camping spot he had in mind that he knew was outside of Dolores' hearing range. A large stream fed by a waterfall ran along the edge of a clearing, filled with fish that he would set a trap to catch later, while a small semicircle of boulders nestled in the trees on the other side of the stream would serve as the spot of their campsite. The clearing wasn't too large, sporting a small hill at just the right angle for someone to glide up and down it and having a decent breeze when at the top to catch their wings, with different sized boulders scattered around to either nap on in the sun or safely breath fire from without possibly setting the grass aflame.

“Papa?” Mirabel asked, peering up at him. “Are we here?”

Agustin smiled, crouching down to be more at eye level with his youngest daughter – slit pupils hidden behind green frames stared back into his own. “Yes, we're here, Miraboo! This is were we're gonna camp for the next two weeks! Now, let's get our campsite set up – we have to make sure there's room for abuela and abuelo too, when they join us in two days.”

“Yay!” Mirabel cheered, rushing ahead of Agustin to the edge of the river before turning around and running back to him. Laughing, Agustin scooped her up into his arms and made his way to the chosen camp site, hopping across the large rock in the middle of the stream, before depositing Mirabel back on the ground and letting her rush over to the rocks he pointed out on their way over.

Forty minutes later and camp was set up – hammocks strung up between trees with rope holding up a rain cover over them in case it rained overnight, rocks placed in a circle around a dug out pit for the fire, a slanted canopy off of one of the tall boulders where they set their bags and made a 'table' from the shorter rocks beneath it. Once more guiding Mirabel across the stream to the hill, Agustin motioned for her to look at him.

“Now Mirabel, this is where I'll be teaching you some of what my parents taught me about how to be a dragon. We won't go over everything this trip, but we will come back again later,” Agustin explained, rolling his shoulders as he let his draconic features rise to the surface – dark navy blue wings that bled into black at the tips emerged from his shoulder blades, a tail featuring sharp spikes along its back whipping behind him. Scales emerged from beneath his skin, covering his back, arms, shoulders, back of the neck, and tops of his now larger and pointed ears, while his fingers and toes ended in claws. Sharp horns emerged from his skull, two main ones with a second set of smaller, as his teeth became razor sharp.

Stretching his wings, he watched as Mirabel also let her draconic features emerge: her teal and black scales shined in the sunlight, eyes alight with excitement as her wings stretched outwards before being tucked – not where near neatly, but she was a child, so he wasn't expecting her to know how to do as such – behind her back. Only a single set of horns sat on her head, but Agustin knew that she would grow her second set in time as she got older, maybe even a third set like his mother has, and her fangs shined in the light as she smiled brightly up at him. “I wanna learn how to be a dragon, too!” she said happily, bouncing in place.

“And you will!” Agustin laughed, kneeling down to wrap an arm around her and pulling her into his side. Mirabel laughed, wiggling against him to find a more comfortable position before she pressed into his side, a chirp of happiness escaping her. “I'm going to teach you the first lesson my parents ever taught me, Miraboo, and you can show them how good you're doing when they arrive in two days.”

“What did abuela and abuelo teach you first?” Mirabel asked, almost breathless in excitement.

Agustin grinned, sharp fangs flashing as he motioned to the small hill before them. “How to fly, mija. But before you learn how to fly, you have to learn how to glide.”

------

G

Guys

GUYS LOOK AT THIS!!! LOOK AT THE SNIPPET THEY WROTE!!!!! I LOVE THEM!!!!

Agustin being such a good father 😭😭😭 He teaching Mirabel how to fly, I'm gonna cry <///3 and its like the saying, "crawl before you walk," IM SCREAMING

Her abuela and abuelo will be so proud <33

#submission #encanto #encanto au #au #my asks are open #my submissions are open #my submission #dragon mirabel and agustin au

[thoughtfilledcuckold]

It’s the most wonderful time of the year….

Whether it is a night out with her girl friends or an office party, my wife loves to dress-up for the holidays.  She loves to wear a feminine dress, cool shoes, have her hair and nails done, and look amazing.  When I first met my wife, in the more conservative 80’s, spouses were typically invited to the office holiday gatherings, but as time went on and especially after Monica and Bill, the parties became employee only in “cost savings” moves.  So while single women were always popular at holiday events, now drunk married women were now also very popular and available to the most attractive men.  By the day of the party, my wife was typically most of the way seduced by one of the arrogant, wealthy and powerful men in the company and even I knew who they were as my wife would refer to them as jerks and assholes.  But those names were just code words for her attractions, I knew that and so did my wife.  So I would watch as my wife prepared herself for the parties knowing full well that the sexy outfit and beautiful face were for his pleasure.  Sometimes, it the man who was interested in her was very desirable to my wife, she would pack an overnight bag too.  Most years, the scenarios were so similar, after mingling and drinking and flirting, as the night went on, he suggests a quieter place to talk and enjoy a drink.  Just like “jerk” and “asshole” were code words, a “quieter place to talk” is a code phrase that my wife’s mouth was expected once they were alone.   And depending on the privacy of the location, maybe her whole body.  It was never as if the men forced her, by that point my wife wanted them more than he wanted her.  Little did those men know how badly my wife wanted to be on her knees for them, or for them to remove her dress and remove her lacy bra and thong panties.  And when my wife was alone with him, some of her friends were envious of her, and when one of those desirable men picked one of my wife’s friends to be alone with, my wife was envious of her.  But my wife and her friends were never without options and quickly find an acceptable alternative “jerk” or “asshole” to be alone with.  

And now it comes full circle as I watch our daughter celebrate the holidays the same way as her mother.

So many cuckold emotions: angst, fascination in watching my wife’s and daughter’s beauty and attractions, and the comfort that those jerky asshole men are dominating and satisfying the most important women in my life in ways I am never capable of.  It is the most wonderful time of the year.

#perfect wife #my wife his girlfriend #lbd