#so i can produce more epilogues to this epilogue

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 14

I'm thinking about writing an epilogue/sequel to this because after reading the ending, I feel like I've cheated you out of something special, but the story feels like it should have ended after the rut. So let me know in the comments if you would like see the bonding and birth of their first child.

First of two chapters being posted today.

The after party. Tommy makes an appearance and Chrissy comes to rescue...well so do everyone in Stevie's corner, but especially her.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

****

The after party was buzzing with the who’s who of the industry. Producers and artists mingled with label execs and the best escorts Starcourt had to offer.

Steve had been invited to a couple of these in his time and always had fun.

Eddie was talking to this beautiful actress in a long purple and black gown. She had song on the soundtrack of her latest movie, surprising a lot of people with her vocal talents in addition to her acting.

Steve gulped down a bit of champagne to chase the bile of jealousy that he had forced back down.

“Well if it isn’t, Steve Harrington,” a cool voice said behind him.

Steve schooled his expression and turned around.

There was Tommy Hagan.

It had been a lovely couple of months where they hadn’t run into each at an event at all.

Steve smiled. “Hey, Tommy, you working a client or just the room tonight?”

When Starcourt supplied omegas to after parties like this one, they were allowed to network to get new clients. So not only were they paid well, they could bring in even more money by picking up new clients.

“He doesn’t love you, you know,” Tommy sneered. “This is all stunt to take the attention off of the fact that he fucked up with two omegas and nearly caused a scandal for the label both times.”

Steve knew that was the reason for the ‘fake dating’ contract. It was his business to know. “What’s the matter, Tommy? Upset that I get to fuck your favorite rockstar? You must have been so livid when you found out that I got invited to their charity gala and you didn’t.”

“You think you’re so special getting a million dollar cherry pop price,” Tommy snapped. “But that just means that you had to stay longer to pay it off, stupid.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, and I made that my first year. I didn’t have to stay, but I know my worth, sweetie. And it is a hell of a lot more than a million dollars.”

“You’ve got your claws in him now,” Tommy hissed, “but he’ll figure out that you’re as shallow as your intelligence.”

Steve flushed and Tommy smirked, knowing he hit the mark. The one thing that Steve was always worried about and that was coming across as the dumb bunny.

“I’m not stupid,” he whispered harshly. “Just because I haven’t gone to fancy schools doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

Tommy laughed cruelly. “Look around you, Steve. This is all you’ll ever have. All you’ll know. You’re only worth is what’s between your legs, not what’s between your ears.”

Tears stung at the corner of Steve’s eyes.

Then there was a warm arm that slid around his waist and Steve leaned into the embrace.

“You okay, baby?” Eddie murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Much better now that you’re here,” Steve whispered back, nuzzling the under side of his throat.

“Stevie and I were just having a little chat,” Tommy said all false smiles, “weren’t we?”

Steve pressed further into Eddie’s side.

Eddie scoffed. “I heard what you were saying, it’s why I came over.”

Tommy blanched. “What?”

“And I did not like what you said at all.” He kissed Steve soundly on the lips. “Troy and Robin are waiting for you, babe. They’ll take you somewhere where you can calm down and I’ll be right behind you, okay?”

Steve nodded and went right into the waiting arms of Robin, Troy covering Steve from behind so no one could see how upset he was.

“You’re Tommy Hagan, right?” Eddie asked, low and menacing.

Tommy nodded.

“I’ve been hearing about your supposed rivalry with Steve from a couple different people tonight.” Eddie’s tone grew even darker.

Tommy opened his mouth, but Eddie held up his hand to stop him, “And no, Steve was not one of them. From other handlers and escorts. From what I could gather, you’re pissed because he rose to the top of the company faster than you did. He’s prettier, more charming, and better at his job.”

“Think whatever you like,” Tommy scoffed. But the red flush to his cheeks belied his statement.

“And now he’s dating the lead singer of your favorite band and you are just eaten up with envy and jealousy,” Eddie continued. “So you decided to go after Steve’s intelligence knowing it was a soft spot for him. But there are different kinds of intelligence and Steve’s is all emotional. And that’s what makes him brilliant at what he does.”

“Still makes him as dumb as a rock,” Tommy hissed.

Eddie just shook his head. “I’m making a complaint against you with the agency. This is really bad behavior for a Starcourt omega and doesn’t reflect well on them.”

Then Tommy really did pale. All color drained from his face, leaving his freckles more pronounced in the absence of color on his cheeks.

Eddie just shook his head and went in search of Steve.

Troy spotted him first and waved him over to a small alcove where Robin was rubbing Steve’s back as he struggled to calm down.

Eddie knelt in front of him and began rubbing his arms. “Hey, sweetheart. Do you need to leave?”

Steve took in a deep shuddering breath and held in his a moment. “No. Tommy is an ass but I can handle it.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Eddie murmured, caressing Steve’s cheek with his thumb. “With the horrible questions, the sexist alpha, and now this asshole. You admit it affected you and we can go home.”

Steve’s lip quivered. “But what about you, don’t you have to be here?”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie said, cupping his cheeks, “I have been here. I could duck out. The rest of the band is still here as well as Benny and our producer Alexi. They could hold court if you really needed us to go right now.”

“Tommy’s already been reported to management,” Troy said, cradling his ear. “They still want Eddie to make a formal complaint, but they’re pulling Tommy out and replacing him with Chrissy Cunningham.”

Robin nodded. “Elinor and a couple other omegas who were here with actual clients had run afoul of him as well.”

Steve raised his head. “Wait, really? He’s pissed that he was only here to work the room as opposed to being with a client? Is he stupid?”

Troy raised his hand and rocked his fingers back and forth. “The jury is still out on that one.”

Eddie looked back between Troy and Steve in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“It depends on the client,” Steve said, “but an escort can make $1000-5000 a night. But working a room, you’re paid an five grand plus the chance to pick up future clients. Alphas that aren’t there with anyone who might have an event coming up that would be improved by having an escort. Maybe their rut is coming up soon. Working a room can net an escort closer to ten to fifteen grand.”

Eddie blinked. “Holy shit. Now, I’m wondering how he could be so stupid.”

“I could answer that,” a warm female voice said behind them.

Steve looked up and grinned. “Chrissy!”

Eddie stood up and turned around to see one of the prettiest female omegas he ever seen. Her strawberry blonde hair was artfully pulled back in a wavy bun, highlighting her green eyes and dazzling smile. She wore a pink mermaid tail dress that had feathers on her hips and on the train. She held a matching clutch.

She gave Steve a hug. “I’m sorry Tommy was an douchebag tonight, cher. But I’m here now.”

Steve relaxed, the last bit of tension bleeding from his frame with her casual support.

“So why would d-bag want a client over working the room if the gains are greater working the room?” Eddie asked, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

He had changed, too. The tuxedo pants had been replaced by leather ones, and he wore a band tee under a leather jacket. His knee high boots gave him a little extra height on Steve even in his own heels.

Chrissy smiled up at him. “Because if you’re working the room, that means you weren’t good enough to get a client going to the Grammy’s. It’s about the prestige of being with a big name artist. And that clout can’t be bought. Steve here is going to get more requests being at Eddie’s side, then I will from working the room.”

Robin snorted. “Only because Steve’s that hot.”

Steve ducked his head to hide his blush. He really did have the best of friends.

Chrissy giggled. “There’s a little bit to that, sure. But the salient point is that Tommy is jealous because he knows that even with Eddie courting Steve, Steve is going to make a hell of a lot more money than Tommy could hope to dream of in just this year.”

“He was trying to upset the escorts on jobs so that they would leave,” Troy said, “which would free up the clients for those only working the room.”

Steve and Chrissy gave Troy an appraising eyebrow, impressed.

“Sounds about right,” Steve said. “Which means leaving would be giving in to his schemes. Plus, Chrissy is here now. That makes the party way more fun.”

Eddie held out his hand and helped Steve to his feet. “Whatever you want, princess. I am but yours to command.”

Steve wagged his eyebrows. “Something I’ll consider for tonight.”

Robin and Chrissy wolf whistled.

Troy just shook his head. With Robin in tow, Troy melded back into the crowds to keep an eye on Steve from a distance.

Chrissy was introduced to the band. Jeff was immediately smitten by her charms.

He was falling over his feet to impress her.

“Jeffy here writes our music,” Eddie told her and Steve. “I write the lyrics and he turns them into songs. Really I have the easy part. He does all the heavy lifting.”

Gareth, immediately picking up on where Eddie was going with this followed that up with, “Yeah. Which considering he boxes to stay in shape it’s really easy for him.”

“You box?” Chrissy asked, all interest. “Do you actually get in the ring or do you just go up against punching bags to prevent ruining the prettiest face of the band?”

Steve hissed at her, “You take that back! Eddie is the hottest member of the band.”

“Hottest guitarist, maybe,” Elinor huffed. “Hottest member is clearly Gareth.”

The three alphas were starting to growl when Brian stepped in. “Guys, guys. You’re all very pretty. The prettiest. Now can we move on?”

Just when everyone had calmed down, he said, “Besides we all know the best looking one in the band is me!”

His friends dogpiled him and wrestled him to the ground.

Chrissy leaned over to Steve as the four of the tussled. “Do they do this often?”

Steve just shrugged. He hadn’t had the chance to hang out with band yet.

Elinor rolled her eyes. “They are like this all the time. In a minute or so, they’ll get tired, give up and move on like nothing has happened. They’ll straighten their clothes and hair, all the better for it.”

Sure enough they did just that.

Brian looked the worst for wear considering he had been the one under attack, but nothing was torn or out of place and quite quickly they were looking like nothing had happened.

“I love these dorks,” Eddie murmured. “So, so much.”

Steve kissed his cheek. “That’s good, because I think you’re stuck with them, being in a band and all.”

Jeff giggled. “Is he stuck in here with us, or are we stuck in here with him?”

Steve tapped his lips thoughtfully. “Oh, definitely the latter.”

“Hey!” Eddie protested.

Gareth shook his head. “No, no. I’m with Steve on this one. We are definitely stuck in here with you.”

“Traitors,” he muttered darkly.

Steve nuzzled his scent gland and Eddie’s alpha purred. It took every ounce of Steve’s professionalism he had to keep the replying chirp quiet enough that only Eddie could hear.

Eddie grinned. “Just let me make the rounds one more time and then you and I will get out of here.”

Steve nodded and then watched him go. He grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and downed in one gulp.

Chrissy’s eyes went wide and she slipped her arm through his and murmured, “Come on, cher. Let’s talk, you look like you need it.”

Steve nodded and followed her outside to get some fresh air. Once there he told her all about his night and not just the Tommy fuckery.

“I was standing there already feeling jealous about the gorgeous female omega actress that he was talking to and then Tommy came in and poked at my other biggest insecurity and I just crumpled...”

Chrissy put her arm around his shoulder and laid her head on his chest.

“You’re going to have to decide if that side of his job is going to be worth it, because if you’re freaking out over him just talking to an actress,” she said gently, “how are you going to fare when he goes on tour?”

Steve sighed. It was one of the reasons that Neil never requested to court him. Being on tour all the time, the constantly being away from Steve who was very much of fixture of LA.

“I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “But he stirs something inside me that I have never felt before and it’s addicting. It feels like flying and I worry that I’ll fly too close to the sun and fall.”

“Soar anyway, Steve,” she advised him. “It’s scary and it’s new. But soar anyway. You deserve a chance at happiness, just be sure to tell Eddie when you feel this way. Because he’s not a mind reader. He can’t see what’s happening behind his back.”

Steve frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Eddie was told Tommy was harassing you,” Chrissy said. She held up her hand before Steve could say anything. “Now before you get all in your head thinking that he had to be told to come to your rescue, we both know that’s not true. But he had to be told you were in danger. Because it was happening where he couldn’t see. So you have to tell him when you’re feeling left out or jealous, because if it’s happening where he can’t see, he can’t fix it.”

Steve let out a long sigh. “Yeah, I see what you mean. If I had been more honest about the actress, Eddie would have already been by my side and maybe Tommy would have still approached or not, but probably not.”

She nodded. She turned around and saw Eddie looking for Steve. She spun Steve around and pushed him toward Eddie.

“Now go get your man.”

Steve stumbled into the venue and began moving quickly so he could reach Eddie faster.

Suddenly Eddie had an armful of soft omega.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured into Steve’s ear, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. “You ready to go home?”

“Yeah,” Steve said softly. “Take me home, Eds.”

****

Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

The confrontation with Tommy had been stewing in my head since I first starting writing the story, originally it was going to be with the Nancy and Billy at New Yorker party but there was already too much going on in that chapter so it got moved here.

Tag List CLOSED: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

@maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv

@wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee

@littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt

@apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @demolvr

@ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @slowandsteddie @r0binscript @alyelf

@melodymeddler @mogami13 @annabanannabeth @disrespectedgoatman @manda-panda-monium

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #omegaverse #alpha eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #omega steve harrington

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

Baby Steps Part 1

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

Summary: Larissa and reader begin their journey to becoming parents

Warnings: Needles, pregnancy, mentions of PCOS (PCOS girlies unite), blood

A/N: Okay, so a lot of you wanted me to write a Larissa x pregnant!reader and I've decided to make this a tiny series. I was gonna make it a tiny continuation of If I Could Turn Back Time, but I forgot in the epilogue that they adopted a student so oh well. Tiny Larissa x reader series! Also I know I could've just had Larissa shapeshift a dick, but I'm not up for writing that.

Also lmk if you wanna be tagged in the next part<3

Read Part 2 here

It was in the dark of your bedroom that you whispered her name, “Larissa?”

“Hm?”

You felt her arms tighten around your waist. “What do you think about…children?”

“Children?” She sat up and leaned over you. “Well, I think I have to like them since I’m the principal of a school.”

You sighed, smiling softly as she pecked you on the lips. “That’s not what I meant. I mean…a…family. What do you think about a–starting a…family…?”

Your heart began to race. It had been on your mind for months and all you were waiting for was the courage to bring up the topic. You were anticipating Larissa’s reaction, every scenario in your head ending with the phrase, “Maybe we should get a divorce.”

But, instead, when she laid back down behind you and pulled you into her embrace, she placed a kiss on your neck and smiled. “I would love nothing more, my darling.”

Larissa held your hand as you sat on the table at the doctors office. The sterile white paper underneath you crinkled with every move you made. 

“The doctor should be in shortly,” the scribe said, smiling before tossing her gloves out and leaving the room. 

Your eyes wandered the room, noting the diagrams and pieces of maternity art that hung on the beige walls. You giggled as you watched Larissa blow into a latex glove before letting it go and watching it fly around the room. You sobered up immediately when a soft knock on the door was heard.

“Hi!” The door opened and a short woman with frizzy hair walked in. “I’m Dr. Curan. It’s lovely to meet you.” She took a seat on the rolling stool in front of the computer, opening your file on it and skimming through it. “So, I see that you’re here for an evaluation.”

“Yeah, we’ve decided to, uhh…start a family. But, as you can see,” you said, gesturing between yourself and Larissa, “we kind of need help with that.”

The doctor smiled. “Well I can help you with that. Were you thinking in vitro? Intrauterine?”

“Intrauterine,” you answer. “Of course, though, in vitro is okay if it’s necessary.”

“Okay! So, the first thing we’re gonna have to do for intrauterine–or artificial insemination, whichever one you wanna call it–is a fertility test.” Dr. Curan looked over your chart once again. “I can see in your chart here that you do have PCOS, so that can affect your fertility. Other than that, you’re healthy and you’re young, so my hopes are high for this.”

“And what does the test consist of?” you heard Larissa ask.

“Part of it will be a blood test,” the doctor said. “This one will measure two hormone levels. The first is the follicle-stimulating hormone. Its main job is to control the growth of eggs in your ovaries. And the second hormone is anti-mullerian. It’s produced by the follicles themselves and the more anti-mullerian you have, the more eggs you’re probably going to have.”

“And the other part?” you asked.

“The other part will be the antral follicle count,” Dr. Curan explained. “It’ll be performed by a transvaginal ultrasound. Basically, we’ll count how many follicles are in your ovaries. And, after that, we’ll go over the treatment plan.”

Waiting for the sonographer, you laid on your back with your feet in stirrups. You watched as Larissa, with arms folded in front of her, looked closely at a framed poster with fun facts about the female anatomy.

“Did you know this?” she gawked. “Prehistoric females had an average of fifty periods in their lifetime! And the average woman will use 11,000 tampons in her life! That’s bonkers!” She looked back at you, meeting your surprised look before turning back around to continue reading. “Oh, look at this! A contraction can give a force that equates to roughly 1,938 kilograms of pressure! That’s 4,272 pounds! Women’s breasts can grow up to three cup sizes while pregnant! Their blood volume increases by fifty percent and their heart can grow bigger because of that! This is incredible! I can’t believe I never knew some of these!” 

“Larissa,” you huff, “you need to stop reading these off to me, otherwise I’ll schedule a tubal ligation instead of an intrauterine insemination.”

She pursed her lips and smiled at you before walking over and taking your hand. Larissa leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips, “Oh, you’ll be fine, darling.”

Standing at the sink, you watched out the window as your hands worked idly, scrubbing away at dirty pots and pans. You were lost in your thoughts when you felt a presence behind you. Arms wrapped around your waist and you gasped as hands slid to your hips and lips skimmed over your neck.

Low groans from Larissa vibrated over your throat as she kissed and nipped at the exposed skin. “It’s seven o’clock. Maybe you should put a hold on the dishes.”

“Maybe you should be patient,” you retorted. “A few more minutes won’t make a difference.”

Larissa hummed, “Talking back? You know, Christmas is coming up next month. I’d hate for you to end up on the naughty list…”

“Have any punishments in mind?” you quipped. 

You could feel her heavy breath on your neck as her hands wandered more. Down to your ass, up to your waist, over to your breast. “So, so many,” she murmured into your ear. 

You could feel one of her hands keep you steady as the other one retreated from your body. They returned shortly and one of them pulled your shirt up over your belly. “And–Ow!” 

A sharp pain in your lower abdomen caused you to jolt, and after five seconds Larissa stepped away. You glared at her as she giggled to herself and recapped the needle on the pen. She pressed a kiss to your cheek, “Just think about our future child. When you’re done here, I’ll be in the bedroom…waiting for you.”

Later that night, beneath the warm comforter and cold air, your naked bodies, slick with sweat, were locked in a tight embrace.

“Maybe we could ask Vlad,” you giggled.

Larissa laughed and tightened her arms around your waist, pulling you closer. “Vlad? Really?”

“Mhm,” you joked. “He’s good looking. He’s athletic. He’s European. He’s the whole package, Larissa.”

“How about we choose someone from the donor list,” Larissa suggested.

You sighed, “Fine. As long as they’re attractive. I don’t want an ugly kid.”

“You are ridiculous.”

Your leg bounced up and down as you sat with Larissa in the waiting room. 

“What if it’s negative?” you ramble. “What if we’ve done all of this stuff for nothing?”

Larissa’s hand went to your knee, squeezing it lightly to calm your fidgeting. “Then we’ll do it again if you want. Darling, you’re young. You’re healthy. We have plenty of time. And if you no longer want to do it, there are other options.”

When your name was called, Larissa took your hand and walked with you into the room. She sat beside you as you had your blood drawn, talking about names and if the baby would have powers like you, what color to paint the nursery and if you should start looking for a bigger house.

The phlebotomist stood up after bandaging your arm. “Alright, whenever you’re ready, you’re all set. Let me know if you feel dizzy or lightheaded and I’ll get you some juice. It’s a Friday, so you should expect the results in your chart on Monday or Tuesday, and if you haven’t by Wednesday, feel free to give us a call.”

Monday morning, your heart was racing. Your anxieties would be cured sometime that day–to be replaced with elation or disappointment. When? You didn’t know. And you hated it. The entire day moved at a snail’s pace. You could hardly focus while teaching and kept checking your phone every time it buzzed. This happened so many times, in fact, that you had to silence it altogether. 

At lunch, you checked your phone again, but to no avail. It was during the last class of the day that you were sitting at your desk and grading papers while the students had free time that the buzz of your phone made you almost sick with anticipation.

New message: ‘Hello! You have one (1) new test result waiting in your chart. Questions? Call (802)44…’

You thought the bell would never ring. However, when it did, and your students flooded out of the room, you followed suit with your phone in hand. Rushing up the stairs, you had made it to Larissa’s office in record timing. You knocked quietly on the door and when you heard a faint voice beckoning you to enter, you did.

“How was your day?” Larissa smiled as she put away files in a desk drawer .

“Long,” you sighed, giving her a peck on the lips before sitting down. “But, I got an interesting message…The test results are available.”

Larissa froze. “What are you doing? Open it!”

“But, what if it’s negative?” you said.

She took your hand in hers, eyes softening and her voice lowering. “My darling, if it’s negative, it isn’t the end of the world. Like I said a couple weeks ago, this isn’t our only option.”

“Right…” You took a deep breath and sighed. “Well, here we go.”

You unlocked your phone and opened your online patient portal. The words at the top of the screen make your insides turn.

One (1) new test result!

You tapped on them. 

Lab results - Blood

Pregnancy

Result:

Positive

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #fanfic #fluff

[multifunctionalnitroglycerin]

The Locked Tomb Series- Alecto Theory

Brace yourselves this is 3000 words of me connecting dots that aren't even there.

First things first, this post is an amalgam of various brilliant theories I have seen posted on Tumblr, so if anything feels familiar, that will be the main reason. I am just going to present my own take on this, and hopefully add something new to what we already have.

                The subjects of today’s conspiracy theory are Alecto and Anastasia -and Cassiopeia in part, the vow to Anastasia’s bloodline and what could very possible be, Dios Apate MAJOR.

                So let’s start with what we have from the books, and feel free to correct me or add sth I might have forgotten.

                Anastasia and Samael are the only ones of the original Lyctor batch, that didn’t complete the Lyctorhood process, thanks to - in no small part – John, and/or possibly Alecto. (“I am sorry about Samael”). Which could mean that Alecto was somehow involved in the whole process going wrong, and thus she feels responsible for Samael’s death, or that she was close enough with Anastasia and Samael, that she herself felt Samael’s loss, or she felt for Anastasia’s grief. (I like to believe that they did have a tentative friendship even before the vow thing happened.)

                Anastasia is also the only one of the Lyctors we know, so far, to have had children. Which is an important bit on its own, (Can full Lyctors, have children? If so, are they different from other children, necromantic or not? Is there a reason that in spite of biological capability- if it exists-the other Lyctors have chosen not to have children? Even with Augustine’s and Mercymorn’s plan we see that in the end Gideon is conceived with Wake’s material – John is a whole different story as far as Lyctorhood goes so he doesn’t count.)

Back to our discussion though, Anastasia’s bloodline was so important to the Ninth House that it has been preserved for 10.000 years. We do not really get a clear picture on whether the Reverend Family knows why the continuation of the bloodline is important, Harrow certainly doesn’t, but it was so deeply ingrained to them that Anastasia’s bloodline must remain intact, that they effectively committed genocide, dooming the House’s future, in order to produce one more direct descendant of the Saint that wasn’t.

We do get a hint, a rather big one, on why the preservation of Anastasia’s blood is so important, in Nona’s Epilogue. Alecto states that Harrow is “the blood of the tombkeeper” after kissing her and drawing blood. What did she taste on Harrow’s blood I wonder? And how did she recognize the taste, as the taste of Anastasia’s line? Did the vow she initially made to Anastasia herself involve them drawing blood? Did it bind them to one another, so deeply that they ingrained themselves into each other on a molecular level?

To add to this, young Harrow, young desolate Harrow, who had had enough with her life and was prepared to die, young Harrow who opened the Tomb for that express purpose, loves Alecto from sight. And decides to keep living for her. And there is something exceedingly weird to just how much Harrow loves Alecto. Alecto is probably the most attractive person Harow lay her eyes upon to that day, true, but this instant infatuation, and its persistence throughout the years has something more to it, don’t you think? As Gideon points out, both to herself and to Ianthe, Harrow’s heart belongs to the dead cold body in the Tomb. And said cold dead body in the Tomb, recognizes Harrow from sight when she wakes “Alecto recalled her, for it was a face once dreamed in Alecto’s dream.”

And this line begs the question. Could Alecto dream, in the tomb? If so, how? And what did she dream of? Did she dream of Harrow? Why did she dream of Harrow if that is the case? Or did she dream of Anastasia, and the resemblance is that great? On the other hand, if this refers to Harrow first opening the Tomb, and looking at Alecto, does that mean that she was in some form conscious throughout that stasis? Does this mean that she could have heard and felt Anastasia while they were both locked in the Tomb, for however long the other woman lived?

(The scene where Nona describes the feeling of Anastasia's hands in the water and feeling safe. I am going to cry.)

I do have an interesting theory about Alecto’s “dreams” but we’ll get there in a bit.

Something else that is fishy, is that the Ninth, is the House of the Sewn Tongue. It sounds a bit like too much flesh magic for a bone magic house to specialize in, right? The cure to the Sewn Tongue on the other hand? Removing the mandible and all that? That sounds like a Bone Magic solution to a flesh magic problem. And I wonder if the fact that the Ninth House’s emblem is the Jawless skull, insinuates that the Ninth is not so much a house where many secrets are kept – though this is undoubtedly true, as the Ninth is known as the House of secrets by the other houses – as much that in the Ninth, all secrets are revealed. Where the sewn tongue is healed, and the truth comes to light. And I’d like to point out that it sounds a bit like foreshadowing, and a promise. Anastasia has been betrayed by John and sworn to secrecy, and then locked in the Tomb to die and take his secrets with her. I feel like the jawless skull acts as a constant reminder, that even with the sewn tongue, all curses can be broken, and all secrets will eventually come to light. And it feels like a promise to John, that her House, the house of secrets and unspoken truths, will be the one to rid of the sewn tongue and bring the truth he so fears forward. And this aligns a tad too well with the Sixth’s mantra, Six for the truth, over solace in lies.

And you know what else fits here, in this concordance of the Sixth and Ninth Houses? Cassiopeia and Anastasia’s friendship. Their alliance if you will. We know they both worked closely together trying to figure out the perfect Lyctorhood process, and it is possible that Anastasia made her attempt a bit before Cassiopeia. The exact same attempt, that performed in perfect conditions ended in failure, with John ultimately killing Samael.

 We also know that Cassiopeia left contingency plans in place, should the emperor become a hindrance to the empire. And from what we have seen of Cassiopeia in the books, it is safe to assume that she is driven, determined, exceedingly intelligent, perceptive, logical, and excellent at planning. She is also the one to point out John’s less than favorable qualities pre-Resurrection such as his interest in taking vengeance on those that wronged him being bigger in his interest to save lives.

So, we have, Cassiopeia and her logic driven, truth seeking brilliance, and Anastasia, the thorough, overly methodical researcher. We have them both working on perfect Lyctorhood, and we have them both, in one way or another, being betrayed by John. Chances are, that they were the first post Resurrection to notice John’s flaws, the first to concoct a plan against him. But contrary to Cytherea, Mercy and Augustine, they are more subtle than those cannonball attempts. No, I believe they planned. And they planned long term, and together. Cassiopeia left her House a note, left them instructions, she was preparing them for when John would become a liability. And then an aforementioned amount of time later, Anastasia is asked to design the tomb.

We do not really know anything about Alecto’s relationships with the other lyctors apart from the fact that most found her revolting, a “monster” in Mercy’s words. So here is a thought, perhaps Anastasia, the one of the original Eight to never ascend, perhaps the one whose failure Alecto was involved in – “I am sorry about Samael” – finds kinship in John’s unnerving pet, his undead “cavalier”, the one he betrayed first, the soul of earth. Perhaps they even became friends. Perhaps she and Cassiopeia realize the extend of what John has done and realize that Alecto is the key to undoing it. When John refuses to kill Alecto to appease the others, the plan fully forms.

So, they construct the tomb. And Cassiopeia is well-known for building mechanisms within houses, so maybe her and Anastasia create secret passages, and mechanisms with extra access to the tomb that would be independent of John sneaking in, or whatever he planned to do with that blood-ward.  And hear me out, we know that Cassiopeia stayed 7 minutes in the river before being torn apart by the resurrection beast – at Mercymorn’s account at least, not sure how reliable of a narrator she is. But what happened during those seven minutes? Paul says he thinks he knows how to get to the Locked Tomb via the River. So, the river and the Tomb are connected. What did Cassiopeia do, I wonder? (Here I’d like to say that my other theory is that she did eventually die, or rather was consumed by Varun the eater, much like Judith Deuteros was. The RB burned through her in what, a couple months? How long would a Lyctor last? Perhaps that was the reason that Varun didn’t resurface until 100 years after Cassiopeia’s presumed death. She could have been alive and slowly wasting away, while still making failsafe within failsafe until she lost her sense of self and eventually wasted away)

To recap until now, the first part of my theory is that Anastasia and Cassiopeia dissatisfied with the world John had made and the truth he had served them, probably worked together to find the truth. And they worked together from the shadows, to create a plan, a long-term plan, with which they could bring John down if the need ever arose, and undo what he had done. And Anastasia’s bloodline and their secrets are really bloody important to that plan. (Also, some nice symbolism about the Ninth being about secrets revealed, rather than secrets kept, and that functioning as a bit of foreshadowing.)

Now into the second part of my theory. Anastasia’s bloodline is so important because she has bound her bloodline to Alecto. And I think this happened in the premise of the Vow Alecto has made to her, or they have made to each other. This might be part of the initial vow, of which we know nothing about, apart from the fact that Alecto pledged herself to Anastasia, and that it is important enough that she pledges herself to Harrow, or a failsafe within it. A failsafe to ensure that should Alecto wake after Anastasia has passed, she will not be fooled by any imposters, or anything else John might have planned. Or perhaps, a failsafe to ensure that even if John changes his mind and finds a way to rid of the body within the tomb, to “kill” Alecto, she will not be completely gone, she will keep existing within Anastasia’s line, thus ensuring that the plan for John’s demise can still be enacted and that the soul of the earth will not be dead.

That plays really hard in the Alecto is within Harrow from the beginning theory. And I will explain. I believe I saw something that looked like this in Twitter by lesbian_mothman, but I do not really remember so I apologize if all this has been said before.

In all the dream chapters with John, we relive memories from just before and after the resurrection, and John talks to Harrow as if she is Alecto “You always say that Harrowhark” as a response to “I still love you.” Or when Varun recognizes the Earth’s soul “green thing” within Nona in the car chase scene, or when Judith regaining consciousness asks “Harrowhark?” and Nona replies, “No, and I never was.” So that begs the question of how much of Harrow is Harrow, how much is Alecto and how much are the 200 souls within her? (And there was a crowd of dead children there. They were striving loudly against living children on the far-off shore of the tomb. CHILLS)

In Nona we learn that Palamedes and Camila on the one hand and Pyrrha on the other have two different theories about who Nona is. The Sixth believe that she is an amalgam of Gideon and Harrow, and Pyrrha believes she is Alecto, golden eyes and all. And I am more inclined to believe that it is indeed Alecto, or at least a part of her, that resides within Harrow, and took the wheel when both Harrow and Gideon were gone. Think abt it. Gideon is back in her body, and we have no idea what the hell happened to Harrow, only that she doesn’t have the wheel, and Nona acts nothing like Harrow or Gideon did. It’s like she is learning how to be human for the first time. She learns how to love and be loved for the first time. So with no soul to govern the body, the part of Alecto within Harrow takes the wheel.  

And then there is the candle metaphor in NtN. Alecto’s soul is the candle passed from one necromantic heir of the Ninth to the other.

So long story short, part of the vow, if not all of it, is that part of Alecto will always live within Anastasia’s descendants, so long as they are necromancers. And here comes the part of Alecto’s dreams. Because if indeed she lives within the souls of Anastasia’s necromantic descendants, does she see through their eyes? Does she feel through their hearts? Does she dream of their lives, while locked in the Tomb, while a part of her lives in them? Is she conscious within them? Or does the whole thing act like a cavalier- lyctor sort of connection, where she cannot take the wheel unless the other soul in the body Is gone?

 Part of her soul is bound to Anastasia’s line, and they are bound to her, and over the course of 10.000 years do they spill over? Alecto to Anastasia’s descendants and they to Alecto.  Was this part of the plan to have a failsafe within Anastasia’s line in case something happened to the body in the Tomb? Was it a promise Anastasia made to Alecto, to give her a chance to live, to be human, through the lives of her own descendants?

All in all, I guess I could some it up in a few concise points.

Cassiopeia and Anastasia worked closely together, they were friends and allies and saw in John, the unfulfilled promises he made, and all the faults he tried to cover with rewriting his own version of history.

They decide to make a plan, a long term one, a detailed one, for when John is more a liability than it is worth. And thus, Cassiopeia creates the mechanisms in the Sixth and leaves the protocols for the rest to find. Truth over solace in lies.

Meanwhile Anastasia attempts to ascend, and John kills Samael. Alecto might be consciously or unconsciously involved and harbors guilt over Samael’s death.

Anastasia probably befriends Alecto or finds kinship with this strange being that is the soul of a planet that no longer is.

The planning continues and John after being asked to kill Alecto decides to lock her in the Tomb instead and has Anastasia design it. He later asks her to stay in the tomb and guard Alecto. (Antigone style)

Anastasia designs the tomb, probably with Cassiopeia’s help, probably with a few hidden mechanisms of its own and or a secret pathway through the river, an extra way out.

At some point, Anastasia sires a line, and she makes her vow with Alecto.

The vow probably is in regards of bounding Alecto to Anastasia’s line so long as there are necromantic heirs. A part of Alecto is constantly alive within each descendant of Anastasia’s.

It might work a bit like the lyctoral process, because Alecto only takes the wheel when there is no Harrow and no Gideon in Nona’s body, aka when there doesn’t seem to be another soul guiding it.

Alecto dreams. Whether she dreams of herself within the tomb and that’s how she recognizes Harrow on sight – from the memory of Harrow first unlocking the Tomb – or her dreams are glimpses of the lives Anastasia’s descendants lead I don’t know.

Alecto is thus bound to Anastasia’s line by blood. She recognizes Harrow by her blood, tasting either Anastasia, or the part of herself residing within it, when she kisses her. It also ensures that the line is intact the vow is intact and it’s not a pretender trying to fool her.

Anastasia and Cassiopeia planned to bring John down by opening the tomb when the time was right and leaving her to Alecto’s (and the RB’S???) mercy. There is still a lot left to be explored.

The tomb is to remain closed until the time has come God has to die. We can all see how that can be misinterpreted to > if the tomb opens God will die. And instead of a promise to be fulfilled it becomes a terrible terrible thing, that will spell everyone’s doom.

The freaking skull of the ninth is a threat, a foreshadow and a promise. The Ninth was a house that should have died with Anastasia in the tomb. But it didn’t. It continued existing its bloodline unbroken for 10.000 years. Nine for the tomb and all that was lost. The Ninth is predominantly I feel a house of mourning – the whole nuns, all black, and skull makeup thing. But it is also a house of secrets. It is a house represented by the cure to even the tightest secret held. So the Ninth, the house that should never have been the house that should have died with its secrets in the tomb of its inception, is the one that will break the sewn tongue, and reveal all the secrets, bringing the truth to light.

#the locked tomb #tlt series #tlt spoilers #alecto the ninth #alecto tlt #john gaius #tlt #alecto the first #anastasia the first #nona the ninth spoilers #cassiopeia the first #anastasia the ninth #harrow the ninth #harrowhark nonagesimus #harrow nonagesimus #lyctorhood #tlt fandom #fan theory #nona the ninth #You know what I cannot unsee the skull thing #It is a bloody symbol #And its bloody brilliant #alecto theory #my girls planned Dios Apate MAJOR #love them #it's all going to hell

[the---hermit]

Babel by R.F. Kuang

I got this book last year, and then procrastinated picking it up for months. I don't know what made me feel intimidated, but I was a bit blocked. And then I decided to finally give it a try. I spent a whole month on it and though my reading was slow I loved this book. I was a bit unsure about the historical fantasy before reading the novel, because I know that as an historian historical fiction doesn't alwasy work for me. But it worked so well, the author did an amazing job and I loved the setting. The fantasy element was so clever and flowed perfectly with the story providing a lot of thought provoking conversations and reflections. It is definitely a dark academia book but to be honest that was not what stayed with me at all. Its themes of language and translation as well as colonialism and racism are at the core of this novel, academia is the setting and it is very much influential but it's not the first thing that will come to my mind when thinking about Babel in the future, and belive me I will be thinking about this book a lot. I really like R.F. Kuang's writing and I will be keeping an eye out for more of her fantasy in the future. I have finished this book over a week ago and I am still unable to for coherent thoughts on it, simply because I have too many thoughts. I truly adored it, the ending was very good, though if I could change something I would have the epilogue moved before the last scene of the last chapter as I think that was a stronger ending. Aside this, my only other negative thought is that the pacing felt a bit weird at times, but it's really not a big deal. I definitely do recommend reading this novel. And I think it could work even for people who don't normally read a lot of fantasy, so don't let intimidate you. I wish this book had been published when I was in high school studying languages I think it would have been even more influential for me at that time of my life. I have also been going insane over the subtitle of the book "the necessity of violence". Talking about it would mean a lot of spoilers so I won't get into deep, but after finishing the novel that in particular really stayed with me and it's been at the core of most of my thoughts about the book. I do wonder why the Italian translation didn't keep it, as the only subtitle in this edition is "an arcane history". This review feels more like a post-reading rant, but this is everything my brain can produce at the moment. Hopefully it was enough to convince a few people to add this novel to their tbr pile.

#2024 book #book #bookblr #booklr #book cover #reading #book rec #book recommendation #book review #babel #mine #the---hermit

[felassan]

David Gaider on Twitter: "Going through my old DAI files and came across the original plan for a playable post-credits Epilogue... which, due to time constraints, eventually got down-scaled to the post-credits cutscene you saw on release. A lot of the meat here was, I believe, resurrected for Trespasser." [source] "At the time, I was pushing hard for an actual denouement - as opposed to always ending the story so abruptly after the climax. Considering how few players ever get that far, I suppose I can see the argument that it's not exactly a great place to focus resources. I did like where the cutscene ended up, mind you. A nice, Marvel-esque stinger that hinted at story to come. Took the sting out of having yet another story plan go awry... which is simply par for the course for game dev. Writing can always imagine more than we can produce. ;) And in case anyone wonders: no actual work was done on that playable section prior to the cut. You can imagine it being this fully-fleshed out, glorious thing, if you like... but it could just as easily have been half-baked and terrible. The team was fully stretched as it was." [source, two, three]

Some further info from follow-up tweets -

User: "It's a bummer, though I understand the logic. A proper end to cap off the experience can make or break your enjoyment of the full game though, imo" DG: "That was indeed my argument. There's a point where we have to draw the line and finish the story, however, and I'm afraid the original plan was... mmm a mite too big. This was far from the only cut."

User: "WAIT. Am I reading this right… Solas drains Flemeth and then COMMANDS the Well of Sorrows drinker to kill Flemeth?" DG: "I think it was Flemeth who commanded it. I'd have to look through the whole document. It's complicated. Part of why it was eventually cut, probably."

User: "Hold on. We were to kill Flemeth on Flemeth’s command to, possibly, prevent Solas from taking everything? Was passing whatever energy she did to the Eluvian her way of preparing for survival ?" DG: "I don't think it was going to be explained any more than it was in the cutscene you got, tbh."

User: "My WoS Lavellan is SCREAMING rn god please help her in the next game" DG: "Keep in mind that none of this *actually* happened. ;)"

User: "Interesting to see this was envisioned as having adversarial encounters between Solas & Flemeth with the well-drinker being ping-pawned between them. I noticed the Inquisitor lurking off-camera in that cutscene and wondered if they were originally meant to be part of it." DG: "Heh. I'm pretty sure the Inquisitor being placed there in the actual cutscene's level was because a player had to be present *somewhere*. Might be wrong, though." John Epler: "the way the cinematics worked, if you had them firing too far from the player character the engine would try to optimize and cutscenes would start jittering" DG: "Yeah, I thought it was something like that! Thanks, John."

User: "Does this have any link to the fact that there are dialogue audios of Morrigan reacting to solas “absorbing” Mythal in the game files?" DG: "Possibly? I finished writing the epilogue, so it's possible some of it got recorded prior to the cut."

User: "So Morrigan would've finally gotten to kill Flemeth herself, and nobody had to turn into a dragon this time? Also, this clears up what even happened to Flemeth at the end. She's definitely dead. Presumably, the spirit or essence of Mythal and possibly Urthemiel are inside Solas?" User 2: "does it? it can be theorized that flemeth commands the inquisitor/morrigan to kill her so solas wouldn't be able to take all her essence. regardless, in the ending we did get it's not entirely clear what happened. but i doubt she's truly gone. she cheated death before." DG: "And remember that what this stuff points at never actually happened. Whatever becomes of Flemeth in the future is up to the current writing team, and is based only on the cutscene you saw."

Summerfall Studios: "Our creative director davidgaider shares some insight into how Dragon Age: Inquisition's epilogue evolved over production" DG: "You want "evolved over production"? *cracks knuckles* Lemme tell you how we cut Corypheus attacking Skyhold. Now *that's* evolution."

#dragon age #bioware #solas #video games #long post #longpost #morrigan #queen of my heart #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #tags for the mention of what happens in the future

[wildemaven]

Sweet Creature: Chapter Ten

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 4177

Warnings: 18+ Blog; Lots of Fluff, these two can’t keep their hands to themselves, oral (m receiving), two dumb dumbs in love, mentions of food, Readers nickname is Poppy (no physical description at all), talks of sobriety

Series Masterlist / Playlist/ Main Masterlist

Previous / Epilogue

FLASH * CLICK * FLASH * CLICK

It’s blinding, even with the late afternoon sun perched high above Hollywood Boulevard. 

The theater, El Capitan, its signage bold and ornate give the movie house its old Hollywood charm, welcoming those in attendance to the star studded movie premiere. 

There are so many people, stacks and stacks of bodies with cameras and flashes barricaded behind a wall of bigger cameras with more people holding microphones— masquerading as a friend-next-door the moment the camera rolls, dropping the facade the second the interview is over. 

Dieter is grateful the minute you both step out of the car that you had agreed to attend the event with him, having you by his side to ground him, not knowing what feelings or emotions this movie celebration would evoke— but having you as his plus one, as fans and paparazzi wailed and cheered for him after being away from the spotlight for close to 3 years—made it feel less paralyzing. 

FLASH * CLICK * FLASH * CLICK

It’s a precise balance of excitement and jitters, mixing and swirling a heady cocktail of emotions, nerves tickling at the surface— but the dizzying sensation settles, not dissolved but thinned and manageable the minute his voice hits the chaotic noise filled air. 

“You good?” A steady hand settling on the small of your back, his words a whispered question only meant for you, knowing how overwhelming this whole scene can be, even for someone who has been in the business for as long as he has. 

“Yeah, I’m good— it’s just a lot to take in. I don’t know how you do this regularly?” A hint of a nervous crack in your voice.

“Honestly, I have no clue— my memory of them is a bit hazy— I do know though, having you here makes it seem less terrifying, so thank you for coming. If it’s too much, you can skip it? I can do my obligations and meet you on the other side?” His thumb draws comforting circles to the opening where your dress reveals your bare skin.

“N-no— I can manage, I’m sure once we get moving it will be fine. Would rather stick with you anyway.” Your teeth gnawing at your lower lip, keeping your focus on him only, as you both wait for the line for actors, producers and directors before you to continue down the strip of red plush carpet. 

“Have I told you how hot you look in this dress?” He asks against the shell of your ear, a feather light kiss to the juncture of your jaw before pulling back to fix his gaze back on yours.

It's a simple cut, tailor made to your figure. It’s champagne in color with delicate wide straps draped down the curve of your breasts, the satin fabric flowing down the length of your body, the low-cut exposing your back and a romantic train pooling around the ground as you stand. 

“Hmm, I think beautiful, sexy, gorgeous were a few of the terms you used since I slipped into it— I’ll add hot to the list— Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself, Handsome.” 

His double breasted all white suit fit him so well, his white button down lacking the buttoning of the top few buttons, emphasizing the taut lines of his gorgeous neck.

“Alright Mr. Bravo, right this way. You’re going to stop on the designated tape marks briefly, let them get their shot, then make your way to the interviewers and there will also be some fans at the end of the carpet before making your way inside.” 

The sweet young lady assigned to Dieter for the evening debriefed the two of you as you prepared to step out into the sea of flashing madness. Putting you both front and center to the onslaught of yelling and demanding requests from photographers, ensuring they get the angle and shot that their Big-Name-Magazine-Boss will plaster across glossy pages accompanied in tiny print ‘shot by’ next to their name.

“You ready for this?” Dieter asks, almost as if he’s giving you one more chance to bail.

“No, but lead the way Mr. Bravo.” A kiss for good luck to his cheek as he removes his hand from your back, interlocking your fingers together followed by a few squeezes as he starts to guide you to the first stop on the carpet. 

“DIETER! TO YOUR RIGHT!”

“MR. BRAVO! DIETER— RIGHT HERE!”

“DIETER!”

“DIETER!”

“DIETER!”

Dieter’s confident and casual demeanor is charming, standing off to the side as he gets his photo taken, watching him as he does his dutiful requirements as the leading actor at his movie’s premiere. 

You study his profile, angular and captivating, his demure half smile on display as he does his best to look in every direction is name is being called to, the way his chestnut locks look lived in and controlled at the same time,  his overwhelming beauty is doing wonders to keep your nervous thoughts at bay— selfishly eager to get him home to have him all to yourself. 

As the line moves, Dieter keeps you close, your body angled in towards him at the next stop, an arm wrapped low around your waist. Your noses nearly touch when he looks over to you, a silent check in and an excuse to give his eyes a break from the bright bursts of light— honestly any reason to look in your direction. 

“Poppy, babe— I think they want your attention.” His husky voice breaks through the riotous hollering, his head tilting in the direction of where the ‘Miss, this way please!’ is being called out. 

You manage to tear your gaze away from Dieter, no real idea where to look or who to focus on, giving your best not super forced almost toothy grin, taking a few breaks to focus back on Dieter then looking back out to the wall of intense flickers— Dieter’s constant need for his sunglasses making total sense now.

It’s near the end of the carpet, where the interviewing line begins. Reporters asking their stream of questions— some related to the movie, others more personal. But all fairly tame and revolving around the shooting of the movie, wanting to know more about how Dieter worked to bring his character to life and if his sobriety was hard to manage at any point in time during filming. 

The focus directly on Dieter, letting you ride through the interview process with a front row seat. 

“Dieter, this is not a role we’ve seen from you before— it’s new and refreshing I would think. How different was it from your usual rogue characters, to play this soft romantic heartthrob?” The interviewer asks, utilizing her time with many substantial questions. 

“Soft romantic heartthrob? You’re feeding my ego right— give me more! It is very new and refreshing, like you said. But also kind of intimidating, since I’m usually playing some asshole— oops— Sorry! Um, some jerk in most of my roles, which kind of seemed like second nature for me at a point in my career. To then jump into this role, it felt foreign and scary when we started shooting— but I found a rhythm and I’m really happy with how it worked with the rest of the cast.” 

It’s ‘nice meeting you’ or ‘great talking to you again’ before progressing further down the carpet, to the next round of questions. 

“Dieter, congratulations on being almost 3 years sober now! That must be an incredible feeling? Did you find it hard to jump into this movie all while trying to manage your sobriety?” The next interviewer asks. 

“Thank you, that’s kind of you to say. It’s definitely an indescribable feeling, but I’m grateful for it everyday.” He gives your hip a light squeeze as he says it. “Sure, it was hard at times— not because of temptation or anything, but because I wanted to be fully present and show the entire team that I wasn’t going to let them down, it’s just something I actively work on daily now. But coming  into this movie in a new head space,  I was determined to hold myself accountable, making sure I was checking in with everyone too was a big thing for me. Plus, it didn’t hurt to have this gorgeous woman in my corner— I was grateful I got to come home to her every weekend, reset before the new work week.”

It’s the first he’s mentioned you out of all the answers he’s given so far— mostly sticking to directly related to the topic and movie. Your relationship is no big secret in your small town, but this is the first the two of you have attended something of this magnitude as a couple, even after being together for 2 years.

You’re not going to lie though, it makes you melt when he looks at you as he says it, awarding you with his lopsided smile and a wink before redirecting his attention back to the reporter.

“Miss, what do you think was the contributing factor in helping Dieter stay on track for this role.” The microphone pointed at your face as the interviewer looked to you for a response. 

“Umm, I don’t think it was anything I did in particular— Dieter was the one who made all of this happen, I was just there making sure he knew how amazing he was doing through it all— and supported him however he needed me. All of his success is because of him, I can’t take credit for any of that.”

The reporter seems satisfied, thanking you for answering it honestly. 

“You better hang on to her, Dieter. I think you’ve got yourself a keeper with this one!” Trying to strum up some playful banter as the interviewer comes to a close. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t dream of letting her go.” No care to the cameras or anyone around you, as he softly presses a quick peck to your lips— once, twice, three times just because he can. 

“Thank you for your time, Dieter. Enjoy yourselves tonight.” A hand shake to both you and Dieter, sending you off with a grateful smile for chatting with her. 

Each interview had similar questions to previous ones he had already done, but he did his best to give each of them original responses. 

One last interview, a major publication, waiting patiently as you both approach their little assigned space. They’re kind with their questions, which has been a relief for him the entire evening to not be bombarded with any humiliating or embarrassing comments. 

“What does Dieter Bravo do in his spare time now? You’re no longer living in LA, any plans to move back?” A string of new questions are asked to finish off this interview. 

“We own a gallery back in my hometown where I’ve been staying since officially leaving LA, still looking for a permanent place though.” 

“He owns the gallery— I just help run it when he’s off doing his movie star things.” You interject, correcting his statement in a playful manner. 

“Says the woman the gallery is named after. I call her Poppy— Les Coquelicots is poppy in French, also after one of my favorite Monet paintings, so in a weird roundabout way, she does own it— don’t tell her I put her name on the paperwork, so she owns more than she thinks she does.” The last part isn’t a secret because you signed the paperwork, but he loves using the line wherever he can, so you play shocked and laugh right along with him. 

“Are you able to find time to utilize the gallery for yourself? Will we be seeing any art made by the hands of Dieter Bravo?”

“I’ve been working on some things— I won’t say what, don’t want to spoil anything, but there may be something in the works that will be debuted soon-ish.” 

The report congratulates Dieter on his new movie and wishes him the best. 

“That wasn’t so bad. Plus, it was fun listening to you answer all those questions.” 

“I knew you’d enjoy yourself.” Pulling you close to his side as you make your way through the crowd that’s formed at the end of the carpet— agents, assistants, significant others who chose to forgo the carpet entirely, all waiting for the person they came with to finish. 

The assistant from earlier, meets up with you and points to a small group of fans who are all waiting for a chance to meet the stars before they head into the theater. 

You stand back and watch him interact with each of them. Signing magazine and movie posters, pausing for selfies and listening to each of them tell him how proud they are and how excited they are to watch their favorite actor perform in a new film. 

It warms your heart to see him showered with love the entire time. 

“Mr. Bravo, you're going to head in through these doors and there will be someone to help you to your seats.” The sweet young lady guides you both to the main lobby of the theater,  indicating the direction of the main entrance to where the movie will be shown. 

“Actually, can you point us to a side exit— our driver should be waiting for us outside.” Scanning the space for any potential exits that would be easy to slip out unnoticed. 

“Sir, the movie hasn’t started yet— I’m not sure leaving is the best idea. I can have someone come get you and walk you to your seats, the movie should be starting shortly.” The young woman is flustered by Dieter’s attempt to leave early, but just trying to do her job. 

“No offense, but I don’t watch my own shit— you never watch your own shit. You just wipe, flush and move on. I know you’re just doing what you’re told, but if you’ll kindly point out an exit, we’re gonna head home.” 

*

The constant low humming of the car's engine and the way Dieter’s fingers aimlessly map out shapes over your thigh, head resting on his shoulder you’re tucked in close to his warmth in the small back seat, enough to lull you to sleep on the hour and a half drive back home. 

“Hey, Poppy— we’re home.” Dieter murmurs softly as he kisses the top of your head. 

“Hmm?” Lifting your head, dazed as you look out the windows to see the car is parked in your driveway. 

“We’re home. Let’s get you inside.” 

Dieter offers the driver a tip and thanks him for the ride, then grabs for your discarded shoes and your small purse as he slips out of the backseat, hand extended out to you as you follow suit. 

“Oh, shit!” It’s a slight stumble out of the car when your feet hit the cool concrete, falling into Dieter’s awaiting arms, steadying your sleepy frame against his until you're upright and balanced. 

“Thank you.” Voice raspy with sleep, but cognizant enough to give him lingering kiss, a buzz of desire fully awakens you when Dieter deepens the kiss. 

“Mmm, why don’t we take this inside? I think your neighbors have had enough of us at this point.” He mumbles against your eager lips. 

“Meet you inside then.” You purr with one last kiss, before you pull up the hem of your trailing dress and head towards the front door, peeking over your shoulder, bottom lip playfully drawn between your teeth as you wink back at him, still standing in the driveway. 

Shaking his head and laughing, your purse and shoes still in his grip, he follows your lead into the house. 

Dieter’s barely made it over the threshold, closing the door when he feels his body being pressed up against the wooden door, your belongings falling to the hardwood floors with a heavy thud. 

Your mouth moves against his with a fiery want, Dieter falling into the motions seamlessly, his hands gripping at your hips pulling you as close as possible. It’s a dance of angles as your tongue dominates his, exploring as you lick feverishly into his mouth. 

Abruptly, you drop to your knees below him, his eyes blown and he tries to catch his breath. 

“Pop— Poppy…”

His sentence cut off by the sound of his zipper sliding down, rustling of his pants and boxers being pulled to his knees, his cock half hard at just the mere sight of you.  

The press of your lips and tongue against his hip bone is enough to make him fall to the floor, the drag of your upper lip across his skin, breath heated and stirring as you place another to his lower abdomen, wiry hairs tickle at your lower lip— then mirroring the same effort to his other hip. 

“Fuck! Poppy— shit!” His length is hard and throbbing, his mind trying to focus on the way you’re licking the pre-cum as it weeps from the head of his cock, a thick haze of arousal clouding his mind. 

He moans— fucking moans as you take fully in your mouth, his head falling back against the door, a staticy sensation building at the base of his spine at the way he’s repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. 

There’s a lot he wants to say, tell you how perfect you feel around him, how much he loves the way your hands roam about touching every little bit of him as you bring him closer and closer to the peak of his delirium. 

His breath ragged between lovesick whimpers, body tensing in preparation, a slow hum of satisfaction as you continue to move up and down his length— hand gripping tightly at the base of his shaft igniting a hungered fuse. 

“Pop— Fuck! Poppy, I’m gonna— fuckfuckfuckfuck! Babe, I’m gonna come!” 

There’s stars, fireworks, bursts of light. Fists slamming into the door. 

His spend hits the back of your throat, managing to take all of it as he continues to come. 

Warm. Salty. Perfectly him. 

Licking your lips, satisfied with your work, working his suit pants back up, fastening the button as you stand to your full height. 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw then to his neck, his pulse rapid against your lips, you pull back to take in Dieter’s blissed out state. 

“Th-that was unexpected— holy fuck! I just— w-when you— I don’t even know, my brain is mush now.” There’s a rasp to his voice as he tries his best to properly form words, pinched brows and  breathless as his lungs desperately fill with air. 

“Just wanted to make sure you know how amazing I think you are— watching you tonight, seeing how much you love being in your element— I’m really proud of you, I think everyone else is too.”

“Fuck, I love you so much Poppy.” 

He tastes remnants of himself on your tongue, and if he hadn’t just come down your throat minutes ago he would definitely be hard and ready again for you. 

Instead he takes his time just kissing you, pouring every ounce of love and affection he has for you into it, your dress bunching and pulling as his hands anchor your body to his, kneading the swell of your backside— your presence is overwhelming and not enough at the same time. 

There’s a low grumble that cuts into two of you making out, still situated in the front entry of your home. 

“I love you, Dieter. But I think I need something with a little more sustenance, though. I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick, then I’ll pull something out to reheat.” Taking a few steps back from him, wiping the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand and adjusting the strap of your dress. 

“Dessert before dinner kind of woman, I like it.” A throwback to your first date. 

“Mmm, you should know me better by now— I’m a dessert anytime kind of woman.” You smirked, mindful of your dress with each slow step backward. 

Dieter pushes off the door, closing the space between you, his mouth molding perfectly over yours, unhurried and attentive. 

“Hurry your sexy self back here.” He murmurs into the last kiss, swatting playfully at your ass before you turn and head towards the bathroom. 

*

A soft ballad drifts through the house as you make your way back to the main living area, the flicker of light emanating from your studio lets you know where Dieter is. 

“Do you want leftover pizza or some of that pasta?” You call out to him, cold air hitting you as the doors to the refrigerator open. 

“Dieter?” 

You pull the containers from the fridge and set them on the island counter, both options sounding like a great idea the more you think about it. 

When you get to the doorway of your studio, you find Dieter sitting, his brush moving with intent over  one of his finished paintings, still finding reasons to add to it.

Arms crossed over your chest, heading resting into the wooden frame as you lean into the doorway, taking in the picturesque scene before you. 

Recounting the moments over the last 2 years that led you to now. 

How every waking minute you want to be consumed by Dieter in some way, he nestles into every single thought or emotion you experience, always able to bring a smile to your face. 

Up until this point, love was the downfall for many of your relationships, loving too much or not enough, a hindrance to your own happiness. 

But with Dieter, there’s a deeper purpose, a greater feeling of being loved and respected. 

His effervescent spirit radiates from his soul, embedding himself into every corner of your heart. 

He’s a tidal wave of intensity, pulling you under and filling your lungs to their fullest capacity, you drown in him, never wanting to surface again. 

You’re grateful for his existence, for barreling into your life at full speed and for loving you with a passion you never knew before him. 

Dieter is your home. 

“That one is my favorite.” You state, moving into the room closer to where he is. 

“Hmm, I think you’re just saying that.” 

“Could be— or it could be the truth.” Your fingers carding through his curls as you stand behind him, admiring each brush stroke and line he created. “I know you don’t think you are, but you’re more than ready— they’re all so beautiful and I’m so lucky to have been witness to you painting each one of them.”

Dieter’s first art opening was next week, but he still found himself second guessing every little detail in each painting— his self criticism lashing out as the days grew closer. 

Silhouettes, every curve and crook shaded and painted in a manner reminiscent of your naked form, not recognizable to anyone but Dieter and yourself. Heads replaced with elaborate bouquets of poppies in washes of pinks, oranges and reds. 

“Okay— they’re done.” He says, placing his brush in the jar of stained water. 

He swivels to face you, his hands resting on your satin covered hips, three brief squeezes— I love you. 

You brush a loose curl off of his forehead, fingers trailing down his face, light scratches to his patchy beard he so proudly grew out. 

“So, you said you’re still looking for a place?” A cheeky smile forms on your face, looking down at where he’s still sitting. 

“I did, didn’t I?” There's a hint of sarcasm as he says it, the corners of his mouth starting to quirk up. 

“Mhmm— is staying on my couch getting too boring for Mr. Movie Star Dieter?” Your head tilts to the side in question, knowing well that in the last two years he hasn’t slept a minute on your couch— save for his afternoon naps. 

He stands, pulling you into his chest, eyes gleaming with an unexplainable excitement as he looks at you. 

“Nah, I love your couch.” He reaches into the pocket of his pants to grab for something. 

“So much so, I think I want to stay on it permanently— if that’s okay with you?” He asks, holding up a shiny object in front of you. 

A gold ring with a 3 carat, princess cut green emerald stone, flanked by two smaller diamonds. It’s ridiculously flashy, looking  exactly like something Dieter would pick out—  and you’re so taken aback by how perfect it is. 

You’re shocked, speechless, in complete awe of what he’s asking you right now, without even outright asking.

“You want to marry me, Dieter?” Your eyes glistening in the candle light, a few tears managing to slip down the slope of your cheeks. 

He slips the ring onto your bare finger. 

“Baby, I want you to be mine forever. Marry me, Poppy?”

Both your worlds, so beautifully different but painted together so well. 

“Yes! Forever— yes!” 

There’s tears and laughter, between shared feelings and drawn out slow kisses, text to friends and family sharing the exciting news. 

 “Thank you, Dieter. I’m so glad I gave your best a chance.” 

Next

A/N: I’ve been so eager to finish this chapter, and the minute I did I cried! I love these two so much!! I’m so fucking grateful for every single one of you who took time out of your day to read, reblog, comment, like, message about this series in any way shape or form— it’s truly been an amazing journey with all of you!! Thank you!! An even bigger thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for her constant support through every single chapter, you are my hero! Epilogue coming soon!

#sweet creature series #dieter bravo #pedro pascal #dieter x poppy #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #wildemaven writes

[scoops-aboy86]

I guess this... is the end! With an epilogue to follow, probably, that's a little more soft feedism related, but for those who aren't into that it's totally optional. Thanks to everyone who came along for the ride, and I'll put this up on ao3 sometime soon. 😊

Part 1, part 1.5, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10 of the love spell no go au

-

The world didn’t end, so life goes on. Eddie, who is the king of casting teeny little spells so he heals fast but not too fast, gets out of the hospital and moves into a one-story little place with Wayne that’s miles from the trailer park. It’s on the same street as Robin’s house so he sees her all the time—but still not as often as he sees Steve. 

And they tell Wayne what really happened, NDAs be damned. It’s a Tuesday night and Steve and Robin have brought a couple Western tapes from their latest shift at the miraculously still standing Family Video; they put one on in the background and a flick of Eddie’s fingers make sure that’s all the government bugs scattered throughout the house can hear. 

Afterwards, when they’re about to head over to the bigger record shop in the next town over to replenish Eddie’s music collection but pulling up at a gas station first, Steve complains that the whole thing was a little anticlimactic. 

“We told him there’s a whole other dimension under Hawkins that there’s this huge government cover-up about it and he didn’t even blink.”

“Well,” Eddie starts, then abruptly reaches for Steve’s ear and produces a quarter from it. He leans over from the passenger seat and holds it up in Steve’s line of vision with a smirk. “It takes a lot to startle us Munson men, sweetheart.”

“Really?” Robin interjects dryly while Steve pulls up to the pump and cuts the engine. “Because the other day Steve asked you to get a sponge from under the kitchen sink and something touched your hand and you shrieked because you thought it was a spider.”

Steve eyes the quarter critically. “Did you… really just magic a coin out of my ear?”

“When it was, in fact, the sponge in question,” Robin finishes. 

Eddie sticks his tongue out at her. “Of course not, baby, that was slight of hand,” he tells Steve, repocketing the coin and glancing around to make sure the gas station is deserted before planting a little kiss on his cheek. 

“Oh, okay.”

“I actually magicked it from your gas money jar into my pocket.”

Steve laughs, and that Eddie wants to bottle and hoard like one of those stupid rich old men with their dusty old French wines. “Good thing I’m not just about to get gas or anything, or I might need that back.”

“I’ll get you something from the convenience store?” Eddie offers, batting his eyelashes and tilting his head in a way that he knows makes his eyes look bigger. Knows because Steve has told him, and seems as susceptible to it as cats to catnip. 

“Strawberry slurpee,” Steve says immediately. “But if they only have cherry, I want a blue one. Wait, Robs—that’s what the screaming was about?”

Eddie flails with both arms, waving at them both to get out of the car as all three of their doors pop open. “Alright, nothing to see here, some of us have snacks to buy and one of us has a car to gas up, let’s go!”

So they all pile out, and Steve points at Eddie over the car while unscrewing the gas cap. “You’re going to use that on the gremlins, right?

“Just who do you take me for?” Eddie scoffs, hooking an arm through Robin’s and dragging her towards the store. “Of course I am, Harrington.”

Robin snorts but keeps up with him, breaking into a frankly jarring skip that causes them to almost trip over the curb right in front of the doors. Once inside, they break into their customary shop-till-you-drop game of trying to grab everything they want, beat the other to the register, and get to the car before Steve finishes filling the tank. They both almost always lose, but it does help make stops like this more efficient. 

(It has been Steve’s idea.)

“You know,” Robin starts conversationally while he’s filling two slurpee cups at once and she’s flipping rapidly through a nearby magazine rack, “I’ve never witnessed the dingus in an actual relationship before.”

Eddie flicks his eyes in her direction, then to the bored-looking cashier, but the statement was vague enough and Robin isn’t stupid. He returns his attention to the slurpee machine. “I find that hard to believe.”

“No, I’m serious. He’s dated a lot, and I mean a lot, but—ah ha!” Snatching the magazine she was looking for, she moves on to the soft pretzel heater and grabs the tongs to fish a couple off the slowly rotating rack. “But no one he’s ever really gotten serious about. He used to complain to me about his dates at length… Kinda relieved that’s over. He’s literally the happiest I’ve ever seen him these days.”

As she turns away to grab a couple Cokes, Eddie hides a giddy smile behind his hair—and then beats her to the register with a slurpee in each hand and a flimsy but full little shopping basket dangling from one arm. 

Because Robin wouldn’t lie, not about Steve. She’d already threatened him over Steve’s welfare back in the hospital (and people thought he was scary, Jesus); it’s obvious that she wouldn’t encourage him if she didn’t think it was in Steve’s best interest. And, against all laws of probability and magic, Eddie seems to make him happy. 

The happiest his platonic soulmate has ever seen him, even. 

“I win,” Steve crows when Eddie is still a few feet from the car. He lifts the nozzle, blows on it like it’s a smoking gun, and pumps his fist in victory. “In your face, Munson!” 

Eddie doesn’t care though. His prize is in Steve’s beaming smile, in the energy that rolls off him that crackles across Eddie’s senses like a kind of magic all his own. “Yeah yeah, big boy, you’re a champ.” He holds up the slurpees and the flimsy plastic bag crammed with a tube of Pringles, a bag of pretzel sticks, Doritos, and various snack cakes. “Are we ready to hit the road or what?”

Robin jogs up behind him, bagless because she keeps insisting that they’re bad for the environment but barely hanging onto her sodas, pretzels, magazines, and a few odd candy bars. “Aw man, did we lose to the dingus again?”

“Yes,” Eddie tells her faux mournfully as he crowds past Steve to the front passenger door, bumping against him way more than necessary but meeting no complaints. “Almost makes me reconsider giving you the change, Steve-o.”

He does anyway, though. Drops a nice, shiny quarter into the gas money jar after getting himself situated, slurpees nestled in their cup holders and a Twinkie already unwrapped to shove suggestively in his boyfriend’s mouth as soon as the wonder twins are both in the car. Robin heckles from the back seat; Steve takes it with the ease of practice and a smirk as he chews and swallows and licks escaping cream filling from the corners of his mouth. 

It’s a beautiful summer’s day and Eddie feels like the luckiest guy in the entire world.

Tag list (comment to be added/removed): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth @zombiethingy

#love spell no go au #steddie #wg steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #scoops words #chubby steve harrington

[builtbybrokenbells]

Spitfire | EPILOGUE

A glimpse into the future of a rockstar and a witchy woman

Read part eight here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 10k

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, swearing, dad jake, uncle josh, pregnancy, labour, parent stuff, yeah all that, sorry if I missed any!

hi! so sorry this took so long, I got a bit carried away while writing. disclaimer, this is probably not perfectly edited cause i rushed it. i really wanted to get this out so i could move on to the next adventure. But here’s some fluffy happily ever after dad Jake to warm your heart. it’s been a pleasure to write this series for you guys, and i hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did. no words can express how thankful i am for every comment, like, or reblog my works have gotten. you guys are the best 🫶🏻 as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes

~

The front door creaked open, filling the quiet space with happy chatter. You didn’t bother to turn to look, already knowing who was coming inside. You stirred the pot on the stove, tapping the wooden spoon on the side, ridding it of any excess before setting it down on the counter. Just as you did so, you felt a body present itself behind you. When the familiar hands wrapped around you, resting on your stomach, the only thing you could do was smile. “Hello, beautiful.” The tickle of his long hair on your neck produced a giggle from your mouth. You turned to face him, leaning in for a kiss. When he pulled away, he crouched down, pressing a small kiss to your now very large belly. “Hello, squirt.” He greeted in a much more cheerful manner. Jake kept his hands on your belly, hoping for a kick. “Did you miss me?” He asked. After a moment, the familiar thud could be felt. He looked up at you with nothing short of elation on his face.

“Squirt better hurry up and make his break in the world, because he’s been terrorizing his mother all day.” You grumbled, but you both knew you were joking.

“Are you being mean to mama?” He scolded. You couldn’t help but laugh. The sight of him talking to your stomach was quite comedic, but it had become such a common occurrence that you barely batted an eye to it, anymore. “I’ll let it slide this time, just ‘cause I love you, but that’s my wife, little guy.” He turned his head up to look at you, a smile on his face.

“Only three more weeks.” You said, reassuring yourself more than anything else.

“If he’s anything like his sister, he may be here any day, now.” Jake reminded.

“Don’t say that!” You snapped, but your tone was still light. “We want a fully baked baby, this time.” He chuckled at your words.

“It will be fine. He will be fine, you will be fine, we’ll all be fine.” He assured you.

“Mhm,” you mumbled. “Where is the other terror twin? I heard him come in with you.”

“Take a guess.” Jake practically rolled his eyes. Just as he said so, you heard a bout of delighted squeals echoing down the hallway, accompanied by footsteps. Within a moment, Josh appeared in the kitchen carrying your daughter in his arms.

“Daddy!” She pointed at Jake, her smile so similar to her fathers. He wasted no time walking towards his brother, taking her from his arms. Josh looked to you, an expression of hurt on his face. You gave him a shrug as if to say ‘join the club’. When Layla was very young, she often mistook Josh and Jake for the same person because of how similar their faces were. Now that she was older, she could differentiate the hairstyles and voices, knowing immediately who they were. The love she had for them never changed, though. Josh walked over to you, placing a kiss to your cheek. You wrapped an arm around him, finding the easiest way of hugging was now from the side.

“How are you feeling, mama?” He asked, also placing a hand to your stomach.

“Tired, sore, grumpy… very whale-like.” You listed off.

“Still as beautiful as ever, though.” He reminded.

“Feeling very less than that lately, but thanks.” You sighed.

“You can feel that way, but it doesn’t make it true.” He said, pulling a chair out for you. He motioned for you to sit down, but you pointed to the stove. “I’ve got it, just relax. I’m sure you could use a break after running after her all day.” You gave a nod, being unable to agree more with what he was saying.

Aside from you and Jake, Josh knew more than anyone how energetic your daughter was. He was over all of the time, helping whenever he could and insisting that it was for you and Jake, but everyone knew that Josh took to being an uncle way easier than anything he’d ever done in his life. He adored your daughter just as much as Jake, or even yourself, and she felt the same way about him. Although, she was still very much a ‘daddy’s girl’ and whatever Jake was doing, she needed to be a part of it. You rested in the chair, closing your eyes at the moment of relief. Your back and abdomen had been cramping intermittently, warning you of something impending that you had been hoping was a false alarm. The more the day went on, the more it seemed like you wouldn’t be so lucky. Jake walked over, crouching before you with her in his arms. You smiled down at the two, still unable to get over the similarities between her and Jake.

“Is that mama?” You heard him whisper to her. She gave an eager nod. “Is she the best mama in the whole wide world?”

“Yeah!” She exclaimed. You felt your heart warm at the sound.

“I think so, too.” Jake agreed, giving you a smile. “And your baby brother is in there, too.” He told her. She looked back at him, eyes wide in disbelief. She did the same thing every time he told her, and it was just as funny every time.

“Innnn… there?” She pointed at your belly. You gave her a nod.

“In there, baby.” You told her. She reached her arms out to you, letting you know she wanted to sit with you, now. You readjusted on the chair, making it easier for Jake to place her on your knee. She gave a small, curious poke to your belly, recoiling almost immediately. Jake chuckled, still crouched beside you, just closer now.

Layla, your daughter, was just about three and a half. She was busy, and curious, and all of the things you would expect from a toddler. She looked just like her father, but had your personality for certain. She adored her Uncle Josh, and tolerated Uncle Sammy. They mostly terrorized each other when he visited. She was always fascinated with Uncle Danny’s curly hair, and had made fast friends with him once she grew accustom to his height. As for your brothers, she didn’t see them in person very often, aside from her other Uncle Sam, who was almost always at your house. Even so, she loved seeing them on the frequent video calls you had with them. You had moved to Nashville not long after graduating from your masters. Jake flew you down and fulfilled his promise; whatever house caught your eye was the one you were getting. You decided on a mid-sized ranch style home just a little outside of city limits. There was plenty of space for a family, and a bit of a modern interior. It had a yard big enough for pets and children, and for any outdoor activities you so often enjoyed.

About a year later, Eve and Sam finally felt they’d been dating long enough to move in together, too. They figured there was no better place than the same neighbourhood as you. Although you missed the rest of your family, it was nice having a little part of home in Nashville, with you. Life was quiet at first. You’d landed a job at one of the biggest hospitals in the state, working to design medical devices and equipment. The contract had allowed you to continue your thesis study from your undergraduate degree, and it was now coming up on its final stages of production. You were beyond proud of yourself, but it wasn’t even comparable to how elated Jake was about it. Jake toured a lot in the beginning, but it didn’t bother you too much. You missed him, but knowing he would always be coming home to you was more than enough to keep you going.

After the second year of living in your home together, Jake had flew you both to your hometown for a visit. Little did you know, he had been conspiring for months with your brothers to plan an elaborate proposal. Of course, you said yes immediately. The wedding was small, mostly just family with a few close friends, but it was more than you could have ever dreamed of, because you were marrying the love of your life. You hyphenated your last name, wanting to keep the name on your degree in which you’d worked so hard on, but also wanting to take Jake’s, too. On your honeymoon, a happy accident changed your life dramatically, which turned out to be Layla. Although not particularly planned, that didn’t mean she was any less loved. Everyone around her adored her, but it was nothing compared to how you and Jake felt about her. She was your whole world, always keeping you both on your toes and filling the home with just a little bit more love. Jake had always mentioned the topic of kids, and it was a much heavier topic after you moved in together. Neither of you were opposed to the idea, just unsure of when the right time would be. When you found out you were pregnant the first time, you both saw it as a sign that the universe was telling you the time was finally perfect.

Growing alongside Jake as a partner was fantastic. You leaned more about him with every day that passed, and fell in love with him harder by each second. Every time you thought you couldn’t love him more, he always found another way to make you fall all over again. But growing alongside Jake as a parent was a whole other story, even more enlightening and exciting. He was an amazing dad, and he was an amazing husband. You were certain you had the whole world in your comparatively tiny home. Then, Jake seemed interested in the idea of having another, and that brought you to where you were, now. You both agreed that you loved being parents, especially with each other, and that growing up with siblings was the best way to grow up.

He never once made you doubt his love for you, and continued to be the most supportive person in your life. His brothers had quickly become your own, also assuring you that you were meant to be in their family and in Jake’s life. Josh had almost became a permanent third parent around your home. He was always over, especially now that you were pregnant again, and loved to help where he could. You were certain that him and Layla would be lifelong best friends. You adored that Jake was able to have his twin brother around for so much, and you wouldn’t have it any other way, either. Josh had been there for you through everything, he was your biggest fan (other than Jake) and cared for you more than words could show. He was so grateful to you for making his brother so happy.

“Are you excited to be a big sister?” Jake asked her, brushing her wild hair out of her eyes.

“Yeah!” She nodded, an enthusiastic nod following her words. She was fond of one word answers. She had phrases and sentences she could say, but she was quite adamant on her yes’s and no’s to express how she was feeling. She was still figuring out how to pronounce a lot of her words, and when you weren’t working on it with her, she stuck to her roots. You could only laugh at her excitement, knowing well enough that once the newest addition arrived, she may not be as happy to have a brother. It was going to be a big adjustment; it had been three years of her getting all of your attention, and you were worried it may be hard for her to adjust. You remembered all too well of the stories your parents told you about when your youngest brother was born, and how dramatic you had been.

Josh interrupted the small moment by announcing dinner was ready. He placed a plate in front of a chair, reaching for your daughter. She was easy to accept the new set of arms to be held in; she loved being loved, especially by Josh. He sat her in front of the plate and took the chair next to her. Jake resumed Josh’s earlier duty, plating dinner for everyone else. He took his seat beside you, handing you dinner as he did so. “So, how was work today, rockstars?” You asked, looking between the two brothers. Josh was helping Layla figure out her fork; the process of switching to utensils from her hands was slow and painful. She usually gave up halfway through and opted for fingers instead, but you had to admit she was getting much better, and you were happy she was even willing to try, now.

“New album is almost finished.” Jake said, fighting back a smile.

“That’s amazing!” You responded, knowing how hard they’d been working. Jake was hoping to get the most of the work done before your due date, wanting to be around as much as possible when the time came. Unfortunately, that meant he’d been putting extra long days. He was usually gone before you were awake and home later than usual. You didn’t mind, knowing you’d get plenty of time with him soon enough. You loved watching him chase his dream, just the same as he loved watching you chase yours.

“We’re really proud of how it turned out.” Josh explained, now looking over to you.

“I’m proud of you guys.” You said, shifting in the chair to get more comfortable. “You’ve been putting a lot of work into this.”

“Yeah, we’re thinking maybe two or three sessions and then we’ll be done.” Jake’s grin was blinding. You reached across the table to grab his hand. He accepted it, giving it a gentle squeeze as he did so.

“When are you done working?” Josh asked, helping Layla get a better grip on her fork.

“Technically I was done last week, but I’ve still been working from home a bit. Mostly just answering emails and student questions.” You explained, rubbing your hand over your belly in response to a sharp kick. “The whole ‘lead management’ title doesn’t really leave me much choice. I don’t mind, though. I like what I do, and nothing has really changed. I was only at the hospital once or twice a week for the last few months. I’ve been doing a lot of home research and review. I’m glad I’ll be able to work a bit when he’s here. I love being a mom, but I love what I do for work, too.”

“Supermom.” Josh smiled. You let out chuckle. He’d pinned you with that title years ago, and it’s only gotten more persistent as time went on. Jake looked between you and the plate in front of you, raising an eyebrow at the untouched food.

“Just not very hungry.” You assured him, letting out a long exhale at another kick. “He’s really energetic today.”

“You wanna lay down for a while?” He asked.

“No, tried that earlier when she was taking a nap. Didn’t help very much.” You shifted in your chair again, feeling another ache spread across your back. “I’ve been really sore today.” You finally told him. He eyed you with suspicion, but you didn’t look at him, worried about the same thing.

“Do you think-“

“Do not say it out loud.” You cut him off. “He’s gonna stay in there until he’s supposed to come out.”

“Y/n,” Jake warned. You shot him a pointed look. “Can’t force him to stay in there.” He joked, lightening the mood.

“Not ready yet.” You said, wincing at a wave of cramping.

“Have you been having contractions all day?”

“I had some cramping this morning, I thought it was just normal pregnancy pain. Wasn’t really anything new, but it didn’t go away.” You explained. Just as you said so, the front door opened again. The tension was eased by Sam and Danny making their way in.

“Sorry we were late to the party,” Sam said, looking between everyone. “Daniel takes forever to get ready.”

“Don’t lie to them, they already know it was you.” Danny rolled his eyes. Sam ignored him, immediately looking towards your daughter.

“He’s crazy, right?” Sam asked, his tone softening and turning slightly baby-like. She stuck her tongue out at him in response. Before you had a chance to scold her for her manners, he did the same back. “Dinner looks really good,” Sam eyed her plate. She watched him with suspicion. “Mind if I have some?”

“None for you.” She said, taking another bite. He feigned a look of offence.

“Leave her alone, Sam, before she hurts your feelings.” Jake chuckled.

“You guys want something to eat?” You asked the boys, thankful the attention was away from you, now.

“Yeah, actually, if you don’t mind.” Danny answered. You made a move to get up, but Jake stopped you, sending you a look through the corner of his eye.

“Help yourself.” Jake said quickly, giving him a smile.

“Thanks, man.” He said, walking over to the stove. You didn’t have time to chastise him, feeling another wave of pain through your abdomen.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Jake whispered to you. Josh was watching you carefully, also worried.

“I didn’t think it was serious. Still don’t.” You were lying, now. You were quite certain that the pain was labour pain, but you weren’t ready for him to arrive. The nursery still wasn’t 100% finished, and you felt like you hadn’t had enough one on one time with your daughter. You were excited for the newest addition, but you wanted to make sure she was ready, too.

“I don’t care if you thought it was serious or not, I want you to call me for anything. You know that.” He scooted his chair closer, brushing your hair from your face. “You’ve been having contractions since this morning?” You eventually gave him a nod, knowing you were going to have to admit it sooner or later.

“They really weren’t that bad, earlier. At first I didn’t think much of it, but when I laid down a while ago it started to get worse. I thought maybe it was gonna go away, but I don’t think they are.” You laughed. “I think he’s ready.”

“You wanna go to the hospital, now?” You could see his demeanour change in an instant. He was trying not to panic, or explode from excitement. He was doing his best to keep it together for you.

“Not yet, water hasn’t broke and they’re still too far apart. I think we have a little bit more time.” You reassured him.

“You have a bag packed?” He asked.

“No, I wasn’t really expecting to go into labour this soon.”

“Let’s go, then.” He started to stand.

“You can eat. I can pack.” You argued. He shook his head, the idea not even being a possibility to him. He held his hand out for you, helping you up. With his assistance, you toddled away to the stairwell, leaving his brothers to eat. Jake stopped for a moment, whispering something to his twin. Josh gave a nod, not saying a word out loud. Jake joined you again, giving you some support as you walked up the stairs.

In your bedroom, Jake pulled the overnight bag he’d been keeping out in case of emergency. He motioned for you to sit down on the bed. “Clothes.” He said, moving to your shared wardrobe.

“Just something comfortable.” You explained. He pulled out a pair of his sweatpants, showing them to you. You gave a nod. You’d practically been living in his clothes for the last few weeks. He pulled out a couple of your oversized shirts and another pair of pants and threw them in the bag. He grabbed chargers and your book from your bedside. He disappeared to the bathroom, grabbing your toiletries and stuffing them in there, too. “Diaper bag is ready to go. I did that last week, just in case.” He stopped, moving closer to you. He took your chin between his thumb and index finger, leaning down and placing a kiss to your lips.

“Taking care of everyone but you?” He jokingly scolded.

“You know me.” You smiled.

“I do,” he said, returning back to the bag. He grabbed things left and right, trying to remember everything from last time. “Car seat?” He asked, now a little panicked.

“In the nursery.” You said, suddenly feeling a wave of panic. “The nursery isn’t finished!” You exploded, making a move to stand.

“Hey,” he said, stopping you. “It’s okay. You guys are my main priority. The nursery will be fine, we can finish it whenever we get the chance. There’s no rush.” He assured you. You still felt the anxiety surging through you. “I know you’re nervous, but we’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna do amazing, and I’m gonna be right there beside you the whole time.” He kissed your head.

“I’m scared. What is it with our kids and arriving early?” You said, taking a deep breath as another ache spread across your back and stomach. “They’re nothing like their father or their uncles. You guys are always late!” You joked. Jake laughed, kneeling in front of you.

“They were just so excited to meet you that they couldn’t wait any longer.” He whispered. You met his eyes, feeling the fear dissipate. “We did this once before. We know how it goes. I know you can do it. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met, and the best mother to ever exist.”

“I love you, Jake.” You sighed, feeling the contraction fizzle away.

“I love you.” He said, waiting until you were feeling better before standing again. “Your bag is ready to go. I threw some of my clothes in there, too. Diaper bag is good, and I’ll get the car seat.” He explained.

“I think I’ve got a little more time before we have to go.” You told him. “If I go now, I’ll probably just sit there for hours like the last time.” He nodded.

“I’ll get everything in the car and make sure we’re ready to leave when you think it’s time.”

“Can you call Eve?” You asked.

“Of course I can. You wanna go back downstairs?”

“I think I might stay here.” You confessed.

“That’s okay.” He slung your bag over his shoulder, giving you another quick kiss before making a move towards the door.

“Can you get Josh to bring Layla up?” You asked, massaging your hand over your stomach. He nodded.

“I’ll be back soon.” He waited for your nod of approval before turning and walking out the door. You adjusted the pillows on the bed, wiggling upwards and resting against the headboard. You tried to focus on your breathing, to imagine how fantastic it was going to be once he was here safely and the painful part was over, but it was hard to think of the positives when you were feeling so much pain and anxiety.

You knew everything would be fine, but the mom-worry never subsided. You used to laugh at your own mother for always been so concerned about everyone when you were a kid, but now that you were a parent, you understood more than anyone. You always seemed to have something to stress about, even when there was nothing happening. Jake helped a lot with it; he was always a voice of reason, for you. Over the years he’d not only learned how to navigate your relentless anxiety and quick temper, but also how to calm you down. That was something nobody else could do. You knew that morning when you woke up, labour was knocking on the front door. You just didn’t know it would be so soon. You did a fantastic job the rest of the pregnancy with staying calm. Doing it the second time around was much easier than the first, but it didn’t mean you were fully prepared. You had been nesting much more over the last week or so, but you weren’t sure if it was good enough. The nursery was another concern. The crib wasn’t together and all of his clothes were yet to be folded and put away. There was so much to still be done, but time was running out.

You were interrupted from your thoughts by a soft knock on the door. After a second, Josh peeked his head inside the room. You smiled, motioning for him to come in. When he did, you were confused that he had come up alone. “Sam and Danny are trying to clean her up. She had dinner all over her.” He chuckled. You nodded, understanding immediately. He took a seat on the edge of the bed close by you. “And I wanted to talk to you, too.” He admitted.

“Of course,” you laughed. “I wanted to see you, too.”

“That’s good,” he said, eying your hand rubbing your stomach. “Why didn’t you call us, mama?”

“I figured if I really was in labour, it was going to take a while. I was in early labour with her for almost two days before anything exciting happened.” You laughed. “Turns out, labour the second time goes a little faster. I started feeling a bit crampy when I went to bed, wasn’t better this morning and started to get more intense this afternoon. I think he’ll be here tonight, or early tomorrow morning.” You confessed.

“You still should have called, we wouldn’t have left you at home alone.” He scolded.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You waved him off. “You had rockstar things to do, and Eve and Sam were just next door if I needed someone. I would’ve called if my water broke.”

“You’re gonna be the death of us, woman.” He joked.

“I was really hoping it was false labour. I’m just not quite ready.” You closed your eyes, wincing at another contraction.

“He’s as stubborn as his mother, then.” Josh smiled.

“Definitely in too much of a rush to take after his father.” You quipped.

“What’s not finished?”

“Nursery, mostly. Don’t have the crib all put together, yet. His clothes are still all over the place, too, and I was hoping to clean the house a bit more.”

“I’ll get Sam and Danny on nursery duty, don’t worry about that.” He assured you.

“No, Josh, you guys don’t have to do that. It’s our responsibility.” You shut the idea down.

“We want to help, so let us help.” The two of you had a moment of a staring contest, but eventually your eyes softened when another wave of pain washed over you.

“Okay.” You breathed. “Are you still okay with watching Layla?” You asked, letting your head fall back onto the headboard.

“Yeah, of course I am.” You had planned to have Josh stay at the house with her while you were at the hospital. That way, you knew she was in good hands, and you didn’t have to worry about her too much. “I’ll bring her as soon as Jake calls.” He promised.

“Thank you for loving her so much.” You whispered, shifting a little bit to get more comfortable.

“Are you kidding? You don’t have to thank me for that.” He said, reaching out for your hand. You took it, and he gave yours a gentle squeeze. “She’s a mini-version of my two favourite people, of course I’m gonna love her. Besides, it’s practice for me.” He gave a cheeky smile.

“I don’t think you need to practice, Josh.” You said. “You’re gonna be a fantastic dad when the time comes.”

“Maybe all of our kids will start a band, too.” He theorized.

“If they have even half of the talent you guys have, they’ll make it big, too.” You said, giving him a soft smile.

“I’m so proud of you both, y/n. You have no idea.” He mumbled, unable to hold it back anymore.

“Who would’ve thought all of those years ago, we’d end up here?” You chuckled, placing his hand on your belly so he could feel the kicks, too.

“All of us.” Josh laughed, amazed at the movements. “Literally everybody but you two.”

“Whatever, Kiszka.” The door opened again, causing both of you to look towards it. Jake stepped inside, holding Layla. He gave a smile to both of you, almost apologizing for interrupting. Josh stood, feeling that it was best to give you some privacy.

When Jake made his way over, his brother gave him a supportive pat on the back. He let the door fall shut behind him when he left. Jake walked to the opposite side of the bed, getting in next to you. He let Layla sit in front of the both of you. “Hi, baby.” You said, giving her cheek a gentle pinch. She let out a bout of giggles. You had to admit, she was always happy. As with all kids, she had her moments and her temper tantrums by times, but she was mostly always content and easy-going. She listened well, and she was so kind and gentle. She was fully of energy, and was extremely interested in her dad’s guitar playing. Sometimes, her and Josh would sing together while Jake played. “I think you’re gonna have a sleepover with Uncle Josh tonight. Does that sound fun?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, playing with the hem of one of the blankets on the bed.

“Mama might be gone for a few days, but Daddy will come home and check in on you. Josh is gonna bring you to visit us as soon as he can.”

“Why?” She asked, her brown eyes looking up with confusion.

“Cause tomorrow, you’re gonna have a baby brother.” You explained. “Are you excited?” She gave you another nod, listening intently. “Being a big sister is super cool, you know.”

“The coolest.” Jake added, giving her a smile. “But we wanna talk about something first, okay?” She nodded again, fully enthralled in what he was saying. It wouldn’t matter if she didn’t understand a word he spoke; if he was talking, she was listening. She adored Jake, always wanting to be a part of what he was doing, or talking to him, or being held by him. He used to be scared that she wouldn’t want to be around him, or he was going to fuck up somehow, but she looked at him like he put the stars in the sky. And for both of you, he really did. He was the rock, the glue always holding everything together. He was the voice of reason and comfort whenever it was needed, and he was your whole world.

“I know for long time it’s always been just us. Me, you and mama.” He started. “It’s gonna be a lot different with another baby in the house, and we know that. We all have to get used to it. He’s gonna be loud, and cry, and he might be a bit smelly, too.” She laughed at his words. “But you’re gonna grow up, and he’s gonna be your best friend. The first little while will be hard, though. We’re gonna have to pay a lot of attention to him.”

“How much?” She asked. You shook your head in disbelief. For a three year old, she was incredibly smart.

“A lot, bug.” You told her. “He won’t be able to eat by himself, or walk, or talk to us. You do all of those things now, but you know how you learned how to do it, and how we’re still learning how to do some things?” She nodded. “He’s gotta learn how to do it all, too.”

“Oh.” She said, mostly understanding what you were saying. You winced as another, stronger contraction pulled your attention away. “Hurt, mommy?” She asked, concern laced in her tiny voice.

“I’m okay, honey.” You held your pinky out to her. She locked hers around yours, but didn’t let go right away.

“But, you know what, bug?” Jake asked, getting her attention. She looked up at him, never moving her hand from yours. “That doesn’t mean we love you any less. You’re still our baby, too. We aren’t going to forget about you. It might seem like we’re paying more attention to him, but I promise we’re still right here. We’re still gonna play and dance, and do all of the fun stuff we do, now. I’ll read you your bedtime story every night, and mama will sing for you, too.” She looked to you for confirmation. You nodded and gave an affirmative hum.

“You’re still our baby, too. We would never forget about you.” You promised. “You know how much we love you?” You asked. She thought about it for a moment, then stretched her arms out as wide as she could. You laughed, but nodded. You and Jake did the same, showing her your entire wingspan. “This much, and even more than that. And Uncle Josh, and Sammy, and Danny, too. And we can’t forget about Auntie Evie and Uncle Sam, and everybody else in the whole wide world. There’s always love to go around for you, lovebug.” You said, reaching forward and catching her in a hug. She melted into your touch as you pulled her into your lap.

Jake leaned over, wrapping one arm around you, and the other around her. Jake peppered kissed over her cheeks, causing a shriek of laughter from her. “You’re gonna be the best big sister ever, but we already know that.” Her long brown hair was cascaded over her face, her eyes, so similar to her fathers, were sparking with childlike joy. “So we need you to be good for Josh tonight, and he’ll bring you to visit as soon as he can okay?”

“Okay!” She said, her excitement returning to her.

“We love you so much.” He said, brushing the locks of hair away from her tiny face.

“I love you!” She said, although not pronounced perfectly. Still, it was more than music to your ears. You thought it ought to be one of her favourite phrases; she took the idea of peace and love and ran with it. “Can you…” she thought for a moment, trying to piece the words together. You and Jake watched in anticipation. “Read?” Jake grinned, holding his hand up for a high five. She returned the gesture immediately. She was getting much better with her sentences, and you were certain she’d be talking your ears completely off any day now. She had the knowledge, but was more hesitant than anything.

Jake stood, disappearing from the room, only to return with a book in his hand. He climbed back in bed for your usual nighttime ritual, although a little early that particular night. You thought that she just liked the routine, rather than needed it to sleep. If you had to place a bet, she’d definitely get Josh to read to her later, or more likely, con him into letting her watch a movie at bedtime. It was always incredibly difficult telling her no, and Josh had the hardest time with it. She settled between you and Jake, excited for the story he picked. While he read to her and she was distracted enough, you managed to comb your fingers through her messy hair and retied her little ponytail.

As the story came to a close, you were feeling quite uncomfortable. When Jake looked over at you, he was well aware that the time was quickly approaching. He placed the book on his beside table and turned to Layla, who was fully laying against you. “Alright, bug. Mama and I have to get going, but remember what we told you, okay?” He said. She gave a nod. He swooped down and picked her up with ease, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her head. “Give mama big hugs!” She didn’t have to be told twice. She was by your side, trying her best to wrap her tiny arms around you. You held her for a moment, enjoying the last few minutes of being a family of three. Jake went to your side of the bed, helping her down once she let go of you. Once both her feet were planted on the ground, he helped you up.

When you were all standing, she hugged your legs, her silent way of telling you she didn’t want you to go. Jake bent down and picked her back up, not being able to resist it. “We love you more than words, lovebug.” You told her.

“If you need us, tell Josh to call dad, okay?” Jake said. “Even if it’s just a bad dream.” The three of you made your way out of your room. You went down the stairs first, holding the railing tightly. Jake followed close behind, not letting you out of his sight. When you got back to the kitchen, Josh was just finishing the dishes and Sam was putting them away. Danny was reading over the instruction booklet on how to put the crib together, preparing for the grievous activity. When they heard footsteps, they all turned to look.

When they noticed you holding your back, they clued in that it was time to go. Josh immediately came over and took Layla from Jake. He brought her in the living room and sat her in front of her toys before rejoining. “Y/n,” Sam cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Oh, yeah, it’s time to go.” Jake said, now noticing what Sam was seeing. You looked down, realizing that wetness was spreading down the legs of your pants. The pain was intense and constant enough that you hadn’t even noticed.

“Oh shit,” you exhaled. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Just like last time, your water had broken in the middle of your labour. Sam bit onto his lip, holding back a laugh.

“It looks like you peed yourself.” He mumbled, coughing away a giggle.

“Grow up, Sam.” You rolled your eyes.

“Hey, no shame here! Supermom!” He said, mocking Josh.

“You’re an idiot.” Even while you insulted him, you couldn’t help but laugh. Josh took to the front of you, pulling you into a short lived hug.

“You’re gonna do great. We’re so proud of you, and we’ll be here when you get home.” He promised. He kissed the top of your head before pulling his twin into a hug. Sam and Danny took their turn, muttering words of encouragement, trying not to panic themselves at the thought of you giving birth.

“Take care of my baby.” You said to Josh, even though you knew it was unspoken. There was nobody you trusted more to look after her. “Call us if she needs anything, please. Even if she just wants to say goodnight.”

“Will do.” He assured you. “Now go, we love you.”

“We love you guys.” You said as you made your way to the door. Jake held your hand as you slipped your shoes on, leading you out the door. He helped you down the steps and to the car, opening the door for you. Before you got in, he searched wildly in the backseat for a towel or a blanket to place under you. When he found one, he helped you sit.

He got in the drivers side, starting the car wordlessly. He reached for your hand, holding it tightly in his own. It was his silent encouragement, telling you everything was okay without even having to open his mouth. “Did you call Eve?” You asked as he pulled out of the driveway. The contractions were picking up the pace, lasting a bit longer each time they came around.

“Yeah. I texted her just before we left. She’s going to meet us there.” He promised. You nodded, breathing through the pain. The drive seemed to last forever, the pain intense and uncomfortable. You were never so relieved when the view of the hospital came into sight.

Jake wasted no time finding a parking spot and helping you out of the car. Once you were inside, the staff immediately got you into a wheelchair, getting you to the maternity ward and settled into a room.

The nurses got you into your gown and then the bed, and started your IV. Jake left you only for a moment to grab your stuff from the car, returning before you even really processed that he was gone. He took to your bedside, pulling a visitor chair as close as he could get it. He leaned forward, brushing your hair from your forehead and giving you a smile. You slipped your hand into his, feeling the uncertainty melt away, now understanding that this was reality and you had to be okay with it. “You doing okay?” He asked, thumb tracing over the back of your hand.

“Yeah, I think so. I’m nervous.” You admitted. He placed a kiss to your knuckles.

“You’ve got this. You’re gonna do amazing, and I’m going to be right beside you the whole time.” He promised.

“I love you.” You sighed, relaxing back into the pillows.

“I love you.” He straightened the blankets out, pulling them further up on you, making sure you were comfortable. “And him.” He added, quickly.

“Don’t think he’s gonna take as long as Layla did.” You said, shifting slightly. “My mom told me that the second usually comes faster, but I didn’t think it would be this fast.” You tried to laugh, but a contraction cut it short.

“Want me to get a nurse?” He asked. “Are you doing an epidural this time?” You found it funny, how involved he was with your pregnancies. The first time, he was the one coming home with parenting books and went crazy with baby-proofing the house. Every time you mentioned something he hadn’t heard of before, or if he wasn’t sure how to help, he went right to google to figure it out. When you had Layla, he didn’t sleep at the hospital until he knew you were both safe and okay. He was more than attentive, and just from the look in his eye when you were in pain, you could tell he’d do anything to switch places with you, if he could.

“Yeah. I think I waited too long last time, it didn’t really do much. I don’t want to feel all that again.” You chuckled.

“Whatever you think is best, baby.” He said. His support was fantastic and never once wavering.

After a while, the nurses administered the epidural, and Eve and Sam arrived. Sam made quick work at distracting you from the situation just by continuing to be his regular, annoying, younger-brother self. Eve was fantastic with her best friend support, the same as she was last time. Jake was more than comforting just by existing. The labour was quick comparative to your last experience, only taking a few hours until you were ready for the main event. Sam took post in the waiting room until, in his words, ‘the gross part was over’, while Eve and Jake stayed with you, each holding one of your hands. It seemed like as soon as it started, it was over. The pain was worth every second, because once they placed your baby in your arms, the world made a little bit more sense.

You were gross, sweaty and exhausted, but Jake was still looking at you like the entire world was right in front of him. He cut the umbilical cord and remained completely attentive to you while they got him cleaned off. “You did it, baby.” He said, smiling down at you.

“You look stupid in that gown.” You managed the joke, feeling light from the pain meds and fighting sleep.

“Thanks.” He chuckled. “You look as beautiful as ever.”

“Don’t lie to me.” You brushed him off.

“Never lied to you before, why would I start now?” He whispered, all the love he ever had for you showing in the look in his eyes.

After things calmed down, and the doctor ensured you and the baby were safe and stable, the medical staff began to filter out. Jake had changed into something more comfortable, and taken permanent post by your bedside. Eve went to update Sam, leaving you and Jake to have some time to yourselves. When the doctors brought your newest addition back to you, you finally felt a wave of peacefulness wash over you. You held him in your arms, gazing down at his sleeping face. Jake stood, sliding on the edge of the bed beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you leaned into the touch, propping your arm up slowly so you wouldn’t disturb the sleeping baby.

“He’s beautiful,” you finally said, feeling the tears fill your eyes.

“Just like his mama.” He said, reaching down and moving the blanket away from his face. “Hey, little guy.” He whispered, adoration coating his features. “He looks like you.” Jake noted, looking up at your face.

“Really?” You inspected a little further. “I find he looks like you, too.”

“No,” Jake shook his head. “He’s got your nose.” He used his free hand to slightly nudge the tip your nose with his index finger. You let out a giggle, rolling your eyes at him. “And your eyes. I noticed them earlier.”

“He’ll probably grow up to look like you, too. Your damn Kiszka genes are too strong.” You joked. Jake laughed, shaking his head at your words.

“Don’t care who he looks like, m’gonna love him just the same.” He mumbled, eyes never leaving his son.

“What are we gonna name him?” You asked, suddenly feeling another wave of panic. You and Jake had put off picking a name for far too long, thinking you still had a few more weeks to decide. You’d done the same with Layla; it was the first name that popped in your head, and you both loved it. It seemed that this time was no different.

“Henley?” He said, almost instantly. You snapped your head up to look at him, eyeing him with suspicion.

“Like, Don Henley?”

“Yeah.” Jake laughed. “Who else?” You gave a small shrug. “Founding member of the Eagles, witchy woman. Come on, you should know that.” He teased.

“I do know that,” you snipped. “I was just clarifying.”

“Well, I was thinking we could keep it up with the music names. It’s kind of cool.” He explained. “Thought we could give him an Eagles name, cause of your nickname.”

“I like it.” You smiled. “Henley… Joshua? Or Michael?” You looked up at him through the corner of your eye.

“After Josh?” Jakes voice was barely above a whisper. You’d given Layla’s middle name in respect to Eve, your sister for every intent and purpose. Jake had no complaints about it, only encouragement.

“Unless you don’t want to. I just thought… yeah.” You trailed off.

“No, that’s perfect, I think.” He cleared his throat a bit, covering up a crack. “Josh is gonna be ecstatic.” He told you.

“I figured… he’s done so much, and he’s always around and helping us out. He’s our best friend, and I can’t think of anyone better to name him after.” Your voice was soft, too. “Don’t tell my brothers I said that.”

“It stays between us.” He laughed. He turned his attention back to your son, admiring the tininess of him. “What do you think?” Jake put his baby voice on. Just as he did so, Henley’s eyes fluttered open. He made a small coo, blinking a few times. “Henley Joshua Kiszka? Does that sound good to you?” The baby stared at him, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room. After a moment, he made another small noise. Jake looked over at you, a grin eating away at his face. “I think he likes it.”

“You like your name, little man?” You asked, bouncing him ever so gently in your arm. His eyes flicked to you, almost as if he recognized your voice. “He does.”

“I think he just likes his mama.” Jake hummed, brushing your hair from your forehead before placing a kiss to the top of your head. “Layla Evangeline and Henley Joshua Kiszka.” He pondered aloud. “I like it.”

“Me, too.”

“Too bad Josh doesn’t have a cooler name. Evangeline sounds so classy. Josh sounds like a frat boy.” Your head shot up towards Jake.

“Did you just say my son’s name sounds like a frat boy name?”

“No! His name is cool.” He assured you. “Josh’s isn’t.”

“Whatever, Jacob.” You shot back. “Pretty generic, too, if you ask me.” He laughed, shaking his head at you.

“Okay, mama bear.” He conceded. “You know, this is going to hurt Sam’s feelings.”

“Plenty of time for more kids.” You hummed, adjusting Henley’s hat on his head.

“Really?” Jake looked to you, excitement clouding his eyes. You watched him for a moment, a small smile forming on your lips. For his almost tough, nonchalant exterior, the mention of babies always seemed to bring a spark of joy to him. Especially if the talk was about your babies.

“I mean, yeah. Just not like… right away.” You said after a moment. “But I wouldn’t mind having more kids with you.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips and lingering for a moment. He wanted to live in that moment forever.

After a while, Jake took him so you could get some sleep. Eve and Sam came in to gush over him, feeling the baby fever begin to set in. You figured it wouldn’t be too long before they had a few of their own. When you woke up, it was light outside, and there were voices in the hallway. Henley was fast asleep in the bassinet next to your bed, right in your line of vision. Jake knew he’d be the first thing you looked for when you woke. You stretched, feeling the ache from labour still persisting. You used your hands to prop yourself up a bit, holding the button on the bed to elevate the upper half. You reached over, grabbing the bassinet and gently wheeling it towards you. You looked in, smiling at him swaddled in the hospital blankets.

A head peeked back into the room, checking on you. You looked up to see Jake, giving him a wave. “You have a visitor, if you’re up for it, mama.” He said. You gave him a nod, telling him it was okay. He leaned back out, but you could still hear his voice. “Come on, bug.” Within a moment, Jake reappeared with his twin and your daughter. When she recognized you in bed, her eyes lit up.

“Hi, mama.” She said, a bit timidly.

“Hi, lovebug!” You exclaimed in a whisper. You held your arms out, telling her it was okay to come over. She raced over to you, ridding herself of the nervousness almost immediately. Jake helped her up on the bed, and she settled in right beside you. “I missed you.” You told her.

“Ho-pit-al.” She said. You and Jake laughed quietly at her pronunciation. “Are you okay?” She asked.

“Mama’s okay, bug. Don’t worry.”

“Dad okay?” She asked, playing with the stuffed bear she’d brought with her.

“Dad’s okay, too.” You assured her. “Did you have a fun sleepover with Josh?” She nodded, handing you her teddy bear. You grabbed it, smiling down at the small toy. Jake had bought it for her after returning from a tour they did when she was quite young. It was her favourite one by far, and she was always carrying it around with her.

“Do you wanna meet your brother?” Jake asked, crouching down by the bed. She gave him a look of uncertainty, but eventually nodded again. Josh took his chance to greet you, walking over and placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Hello, Joshua.” You gave him a smile.

“Hello, mama.” He said back with the same tone. “How are you feeling?”

“A little sore, but it’s worth it.” You assured him. “Did you see him, yet?” He shook his head.

“Jake wanted to wait until you were awake and ready.” You felt your heart warm at his words, knowing how much respect your husband had for you. Josh took a small step towards the head of the bed, turning to look at Jake as he brought over Henley. You held your arms out, to which Jake placed him down gently in them.

Layla sat up, gazing over with curiosity. Jake took a seat on the edge of the bed, watching the interaction intensely, never wanting to forget the moment. Without a word, Josh took a moment to take a few pictures, wanting you all to have the memory, too. “He was in your belly?” She looked up to you, unable to process the situation.

“Yeah, he was, bug.” You told her. “What do you think of him?”

“He’s tiny.” She noted.

“Sure is. You were that size, too, once.” Jake told her.

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you said, smiling at her. “Now you’re getting so big.” Jake mumbled an agreement, both of you feeling the weight of the statement. You couldn’t believe she was growing up so fast.

“I like him.” She finally deducted.

“That’s good, bug.” Jake laughed. “I’m sure he likes you, too.”

“What’s his name?” She asked.

“Henley.” Jake said.

“Henny?” She asked, a bit confused. He gave a small shake of his head.

“Hen-“ he said, waiting for her to repeat him. She did so, watching him carefully. “Lee.” She repeated that, too. “Henley.”

“Henley.” She said, although not completely perfect. Still, he wasn’t long telling her he was proud of her and giving her a high five.

“Don Henley?” Josh asked. Jake nodded, looking to you.

“Come here.” Jake patted the spot beside him. Josh took a seat, leaning over slightly to get a better look at him.

“He’s gorgeous.” Josh said, almost breathless at the sight. If you knew anything for certain, it was that Josh loved kids just as much as Jake did.

“We think so, too.” Jake said, placing a hand on his brothers shoulder. You shared a look with your husband, who gave you a slight nod, telling you that it was okay if you told Josh his name.

“We were actually wondering what you thought about his full name, godfather.” You caught his attention. You and Jake decided since Sam and Eve were Layla’s godparents, Josh and Ally would be his godparents. Ally didn’t live close by, but she visited often and was always involved in your lives, whether remotely or in person.

“Let me hear it, then.” The anticipation was killing him, you could tell just by the look in his eye.

“Henley Joshua Kiszka.” You told him, tone soft and eyes hopeful. He stared for a moment, mouth slightly agape, trying to process what you were saying.

“J-Joshua?” He stuttered, clearing his throat. “Like, after me?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Is that okay?”

“That’s… more than okay. That’s awesome.” He rushed out, eyes looking everywhere but at yours. “You mean it?”

“Of course we do. Couldn’t think of anyone better to name him after.” You explained. He finally met your gaze. You noticed a few tears brimming in his eyes. “You’re Jake’s brother, and you’re my best friend. You’ve been there for us through everything. You’re our rock, and we have no idea where we’d be without you. You brought me into your family with open arms, since the first day I met you. You were the first person who came to mind.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he chuckled, wiping his eye with the back of his hand.

“Don’t have to say anything, brother.” Jake patted him on the back. He wrapped his arm around Josh, pulling him into a short lived hug. “We wanted to. Thank you for everything you do, and for loving them like they’re your own.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that!” He brushed Jake’s words off. “I love you guys.”

“We love you.” You laughed. “Do you wanna hold him?”

“Can I?”

“Of course you can.” You nodded. He cautiously reached over, ever so carefully taking him from your arms. He stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open. At the sight of the new face, he looked like he was about to cry. Josh rocked him slightly, quietly talking to him. After a few seconds, he relaxed again and made a few small noises.

“He looks like you.” Josh said, looking up at you.

“You think?” You asked. Josh nodded.

“I told you.” Jake grinned, peeking over his brothers shoulder to admire the baby, too. Layla curled up beside you, resting her head on your chest. You wrapped your arm around her, holding her tightly to you.

As you sat and watched the twins with the baby, and looked down at your daughter, you felt an overwhelming sense of happiness wash over you. You were certain that life couldn’t get any better than this. You’d find made it; all the years of hard work paying off in this small, sacred moment of time. Jake looked up at you, giving you a smile. “We did it.” You whispered. Josh was so enthralled in Henley that he didn’t even hear you speak.

“We did it.” Jake confirmed. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you, Rockstar.” And you meant it with every fibre of your being. You loved every day, minute, and second that brought you here, even if some were terrible. You thanked the universe for every memory, every touch and word shared with him. You thanked every higher power to exist for ensuring he was at that dive bar in Baltimore. And you thanked them once more, for guiding him to the cafe the next day. That one night, one that was so painfully normal for everyone else, gave you the entire world. It got you where you were, now, adoring him entirely and learning more about love with every day that passed. One bar in Maryland, one Eagles song, and one rum and coke paved the way for the happiest life you could ever have imagined for yourself.

“I love you, witchy woman.” Without him saying another word, you already knew he felt the exact same way.

.

the end 🫶🏻

TAGLIST: @gvfpal

@jakesgrapejuice

@hellowgoodbye

@ohgodthefeeling-gvf

@welllauragvf

#greta van fleet #gvf #danny gvf #sam gvf #danny wagner #jake gvf #jake kiszka #josh gvf #sam kiszka #gvf fic #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fleet imagine #gvf imagine #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka series #jake kiszka fic #spitfire #mine #writing #my fic #my writing #josh kiszka #builtbybrokenbells

[chefkids]

i was just thinking, it wouldn’t make sense for the show to end in three seasons bc how would that give enough time for them to finish off character arcs and also decide an ending for the restaurant? the endings have to feel deserved and bc we just got the restaurant and we still have a lot left unexplored or unaddressed with the characters, three seasons would be crazy. how do you finish off the intended journey with the restaurant (whether it stays open or closed) and finish off character arcs without it feeling undeserved? everything has to add up and make sense, three seasons wouldn’t be enough to do that. i think four seasons can perfectly do that, but three? ehhh… there’s too much to address as of right now.

I think Chris never really expected to get a second season much less the opportunity to do up to 5 seasons. I think regardless of how many seasons they end up having, he is still going to have the series end the same way he intended it to from the start. And I just don't see him doing major reworks to the ending/arc of season 3 when they're already in the midst of making it.

Contrary to all the headlines, Season 4 has actually not even been confirmed by FX, and until it is I'm really not getting too much hope up. Those bonus episodes they agreed to film could be added within the Season 3 storyline, so there might not even be a fourth season. Which I think could make sense to just give them more time for things to wrap up, the "partnership" to work itself out, and everyone to have an arc in Season 3 that doesn't feel rushed.

Also just the general timeline of things, even if they do continue filming into June for a real Season 4, they are very limited in time for producing a fully fledged long season because everyone probably needs to go do their other projects they are signed up for right after. I could see season 4 being a sort of epilogue "where are they now" kind of vibe if they really do end up going in the direction of the restaurant shutting down by the end. If the restaurant doesn't close then I think the ending of season 3 could be moved to be the ending of Season 4.

I don't really expect any major time jumps in Season 3 because so many major events are happening right at the start of the season. So to wrap up their 15 month timeline in 12+ episodes is tight. I think there will always be more they could have explored for all the characters and some level of loose ends with the story, I think Chris likes to leave a certain level of things up for interpretation.

As for season 5, I really don't see it happening any time soon if they can't even film for season 4 next year. I could see them doing a Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life situation type of reunion like 5 to 10 years after the finale if the story does go in the direction of The Bear closing and them agreeing to try again in the future.

#the bear #sydcarmy #the bear fx #the bear meta

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I remember there had been speculations that the Yorks (either the parents or girls) had contributed to FF or Endgame. Having read the 2 books, do you think it's possible? And is there anyone from the inner circle of the BRF that did in your opinion? From the Sussex side, their staff definitely did as they seemed friendly with Scobie at the beginning and Meghan's friends as well. But it seems not even Harry's friends ever did so I can hardly see a close friend/family member of the BRF leak to him

Such an interesting question, anon - you really made me dig deep into my memory! (I haven't picked up Finding Freedom since it first came out, though I've been meaning to check out the paperback since it got a new epilogue after Philip passed away.)

Remember that Finding Freedom was written by Scobie and Carolyn Durand. Scobie gets the lion's share of criticism, recognition, and credit for Finding Freedom and Durand practically disappeared from royal commentary after the book was published so something definitely went down. I think the way they "split" the work is Scobie sourced the Sussexes, Kensington Palace, Meghan's friends, and Sunshine Sachs because his background is actually entertainment news. Durand sourced Buckingham Palace, Clarence House, and a few of Harry's friends like Guy Pelly and the van Straubenzees because she has the more "establishment" cred.

I don't actually know if that's true. The only evidence I have is how HarperCollins presented them in their biographies for Finding Freedom - they called Scobie the expert on the "young royals" (William, Kate, Harry, and Meghan) with "strong access to the Sussexes' working world" and they say Durand has contacts at BP, KP, and Clarence House and has produced interviews with many members of the royal family, including Harry. (Here's the link.)

To your question about if Harry's friends would talk to the press, yes. According to Scobie in Endgame, BP/KP/CH have lists of royal friends and associates that may be willing to speak to reporters, and whom the palace will make available to the reporters when they're writing on books or commemorative articles for birthdays/milestones. Since it sounds like Scobie and Durand did make the BRF aware that they were writing Finding Freedom, the palace probably gave them some names from Harry's list of friends and that's how they were able to talk to some of those guys, if they did.

Whether anyone in the inner circles of the BRF spoke to them for Finding Freedom, we know Jason Knauf definitely did since he was part of the lawsuit. Sara Latham probably could have given some background. (Based on some of the info from the lawsuits and some of the things Scobie said in Endgame, I think they had started doing research for something that would become Finding Freedom in 2018. The lawsuit revealed that Scobie and Durand were working with/through Knauf to get clarification from the Sussexes and Knauf would only have been involved if he was working with the Sussexes, so it had to have been before William split their offices and sent the Sussexes to work out of BP in late 2018/early 2019.)

I did always get a feeling like maybe Eugenie contributed. If she did, then she probably did it on deep background, where any info she gave couldn't be published or attributed to her, but Scobie/Durand could have used her info as lines of questioning for other people or subjects for further research. She was really the only one hanging out with Harry. Beatrice didn't seem to be around Harry much anymore in those days. (It was alleged that she was incandescant with rage, to borrow from William, that Meghan teased/leaked the pregnancy at Eugenie's wedding and that made her rethink a lot of things.)

I don't see Andrew being involved. He doesn't strike me someone who liked Harry personally. Maybe they were close when Harry was a kid but they seem to have distanced since Harry had gotten older (it's probably some spare v spare resentment) (plus there's the whole thing about the Sussexes supposedly stealing Eugenie's wedding timeline and supposedly that was very upsetting) so I can't see him doing an interview. And also, probably by the time Scobie and Durand were sitting down to actually write Finding Freedom in Summer/Fall 2019, the Epstein scandals had blown open again and made Andrew PNG'd so no way in hell someone woke like Scobie would include anything he had to say.

But Sarah, possibly. She and Durand are both affiliated with Oprah - Sarah has been on the talk show a few times, she had her own show/docuseries with Oprah, she's been in the magazine, and Durand is a contributer to Oprah's magazine and website. So they have that connection and that could've been how Durand was able to talk to Sarah, possibly even for info or background on Diana. (I don't see anyone on the Spencer side being Scobie's source, no matter how much Harry talks about his mother's family being his favorite people since some shit went down between Harry, Meghan, and Charles Spencer, my only evidence being his glaring absence from Archie's christening.)

And also, a quick aside about Sarah. I do think Sarah is one of Piers Morgan's sources for the royal family. I think Piers has a few sources in the BRF (including Camilla) but Sarah might be the most loose-lipped one.

Sorry, anon. You were probably looking for a quick and simple answer, and yet I've given you another essay to read.

#ask #brf #sussexes #omid scobie #finding freedom #yorkies

[just-jokes]

Building off of that previous thread, IMO the most interesting interpretation of Mario canon is "all the events depicted are canon, but the games themselves may not be".

By that, I'm talking about the way a lot of the games have an element of diegetic storytelling: Super Mario Bros 3 frames itself as a stage play, Paper Mario frames itself as a storybook, Super Mario 64 has a cameraman following Mario around, The Thousand-Year Door frames itself as a stage play inside a storybook, and so on. I think that the most fun way to interpret this is that those games are depictions of popular media in the Mario universe which are, themselves, dramatized and/or sanitized versions of Mario's actual exploits.

Mario is canonically a major celebrity in his own universe; no matter how far he travels, half of everyone he meets recognize him on sight, and media depicting his adventures are likewise popular in-universe (in Mario Odyssey, you can visit a movie theater showing a screening of the original Super Mario Brothers). Even in the sports games, he's shown to have more sponsorship deals than even the most prolific IRL athletes.

So basically, here's my headcanon: when it comes to games like TTYD, all the major events actually happened. Peach was kidnapped by a crazy cult of astronauts, Mario did travel to Rogueport and all those other locales, he did befriend all those characters, and so on...

However. The real story didn't go exactly as depicted in the game. The epilogue points out that, after the adventure ended, Madame Flurrie and Doopliss went on to star in a stage production based on the adventure, and I submit that after that, someone went on to produce a best-selling illustrated novel (and/or pop-up book) based on the play. All of the "paper" bits were either added for comedic effect, or are cleaning up a messy part of the story to make it more palatable for a wider audience. Consider the black chests: in the game, they're treated as a bit of a joke, "cursing" Mario with the ability to fold himself up into a paper plane, boat, and so on, which allows him to bypass otherwise insurmountable obstacles. But what if the reality was a bit darker? What if, when the "real" Mario found the chests, the curse was a little less "ha-ha funny" and more "body horror-y"? Obviously, that would be a no-go if you want to publish a book for all ages, so it got bowdlerized into what we see now.

#paper mario #discourse #super mario #spoilers #paper mario spoilers #headcanon #paper mario headcanon #mario headcanons #paper mario: the thousand year door

[juicefield]

Meyp Skxawng Neteyam X Avatar!Reader: Part 1

A/N: I included the epilogue in this post so I could just delete the last post. Neteyam is 20 in this and there will be no NSFW content in this fic. It is not set in the far future as I reference bits of culture from the 2000s (mostly because this fic is essentially about culture, Na'vi and human and how they clash with each other and unfortunately I don't know about human culture in 2170 so I just used stuff from our time). Also this is set in high camp. I love the Metkayina, but I've always loved the forests of Pandora since I was young.

Although the writing in this fanfiction is my own, I do not claim any ownership of Avatar, Avatar: The Way of Water, or any of the subsequent medias. All rights go to James Cameron and the producers.

You can find the other parts here:

Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Synopsis: Today is your twentieth birthday on Pandora. You look back on your life in reflection as you think about the future and your place on her.

Neteyam X Fem!Avatar!Reader 6.6k 1st person POV

The Na'vi say that every person is born twice. The second time is when you earn your place among The People... forever.

A tired yet youthful Jake Sully, now known as Jake Tsyeyk te Suli  or the mighty Toruk Makto, droned on from the blue tinted computer screen staring back at me. Once again, I found myself watching the videos he left behind. I know I shouldn't torture myself, that this fantasy I've had since I was a child was nothing but that... just a fantasy. I could never get the second chance he got all those years ago. I’ve spent years living vicariously through him and his video logs; imagining that I had become one with The People like him. I knew it was childish, but that certainly didn't stop me from dreaming about it. 

The more I watched his videos, and Grace's videos, the more I longed to see this world that I find myself stuck in. That mystical magical world that was closed off from me, just outside, so close yet so far. However, I couldn't be like Spider, my strange adopted "semi-sibling" and run around like a chicken with its head cut off (this was a line straight from Norm, as I have never even eaten chicken let alone seen one), awkward and slow next to the lithe natives. I fiddled with a small puzzle Norm had brought from the old world as I listened to Jake's voice. It was a rare treat and one of the things I had as a child that was almost like a toy. Of course at this point I knew how to solve it faster than I could blink practically. As I sit there and continuously slide the locking mechanism in and out I become briefly distracted from the monitor as I feel the ridges of the plastic puzzle. It felt weird to have the thought that Spider was my brother. He certainly never acted like he cared about me much, always opting to hang with the Sullys. However, I know that he feels a certain camaraderie with me due to our similar afflictions. The affliction in question being our shared blood, vrrtep reypay, or "demom blood" flows through both of us. Unlike Spider, however, there was something that afflicted me and me alone in this new world.

The sickness. Norm and Max weren’t sure what it was, but they knew for certain it was some sort of genetic thing. Some thing that my parents had carried in both of them. "Thing". It was easier to call it a thing, easier for me to compartmentalize that way. Easier to tuck away the pain and suffering in a neat corner of my mind. It affected me in different ways. From my joints to my stomach to my legs, my body was simply weak. Back when I was willing to try reaching out to the other children, Na'vi children, I would always get made fun of for being a weak human, so once my legs started to give out on me at the age of 8 I officially swore off having "friends".

"Meyp skxawng."  A little girl muttered under her breath after my legs gave out while splashing in a pool in the cave system. Her name was Txeyu. She was one of the Na'vi that lived the closest to the labs in the back of the cave system, also about one of three friends that I had besides Norm and Max. She was one of the only Na'vi children that would hang around me, but as my legs worsened I could feel her getting agitated everytime I couldn’t keep up as we played. 

"Sorry,"  The apology that exited my mouth was out before I could even stop to think what I actually did wrong. Pulling myself up from the awkward position I was in after I had slipped and fallen to the floor I continued. "Sometimes my legs don't work so well… I mean, even for a human." The last word came out strained like if I said it loudly then everyone would suddenly realize I was an alien and demand to throw me out of camp. I knew of course that humans had the protection of Jake Sully. Realistically that could never happen, but many of the Na'vi were not accepting of our place in the clan. It had been long ago that I learned shame for being human but I remember this memory as the time I learned to be ashamed of being disabled. When I looked up there was this distinct look on the Na'vi's face. A strange mix of pity and disgust that left a pit in my stomach. The slope of her eyes and the curl of her lip are often in my dreams, haunting me. I will never forget them from that day. With tears stinging my eyes I politely excused myself and threw myself into Norm’s arms as soon as I found him. Even though I hadn't known what the words at the time meant I knew exactly what her face had meant. I was a blubbering mess and after that I wasn't allowed to play with Txeyu (or at least Norm had told me that, for my peace of mind so I wouldn’t seek her out) and I swore that I didn't need friends. 

To be fair to Txeyu, I was a weak moron. Confirmed by not only my weak body, but also my inability to stop watching the videos that the two most revered sky people had left behind. Grace was my source of entertainment since I was a child because  the humans were not concerned with bringing old world media with them to Pandora. Mostly because coming to Pandora they had not thought of babies being born in the new world, had not thought of the culture left behind. Had not thought of the difficulty these children would have with their identity, knowing almost nothing of the new world or the old. Many people had brought things with them but most cultural items had been taken by the sky people when they left. And yes, Norm and Max told me all about Earth and about movies and music and art along with the small amount of stuff they could recover from the old lab but it was nothing, nothing, compared to the real thing. To have a sense of community with people who have shared experiences, to have people that you belong to. The very thing that makes people human, or maybe not human, but the thing that is important to all life that holds empathy. 

Empathy. That, I thought, was the similarity humans had with the Na'vi. They both had empathy. What separated them, however, was more important... greed, yes, the humans were greedy despite their sympathy. I had learned as a girl that the two were not exclusive. I knew it was true in the way I wished to be Jake, in the way I longed for a world I didn't belong to. Knew that even I, a human that can hardly be called human, is not spared from this defining characteristic of greed. Unfortunately I would never get a second chance, another body, like Jake did.

I accepted this fact when I was a mere twelve years old, a particularly hard year for me. I started my menstruation cycle with only Norm and Max to comfort me. There were other women at the base, but none close enough to me for me to celebrate in the joy of womanhood. I would have turned to Kiri, but luckily for her she doesn’t have an aunt flow, like all Na'vi. What a lucky bitch. I had started bleeding and had been in the bathroom panic stricken because my first thought was that the sickness was getting worse, that the pain I felt was finally going to bleed me out and kill me. As I silently wept I accidentally knocked over the trash bin in my room. Norm had come to the door, knocking softly thrice he announced himself.

"Hey... you good in there? You've been in there a while and I heard something fall." Hot tears were stinging my eyes and I was breathing heavily, like there was a giant boulder on my chest. Hey, maybe this was one of those panic attacks I read about in the encyclopedias of Medicine and Psychology I had read? I had always been a curious child, learning as much as I could to stave off boredom. There had been a few precious fiction books left behind by the scientists before I. Please dear Eywa (I had felt embarrassed at the time to ask Eywa for help), please help me remember that boring book I prayed all while frantically trying to calm down enough for the memory to surface. Breathe. I had to breathe in and out. I've got this, I mean I'm totally dying, but I've definitely got a handle on this. Compartmentalize. Yes, I distinctly remember the book talking about breathing and slow breaths from the diaphragm, for sure, definitely... Just as I finally started to get a grip and calm down Norm knocked again.

"Come on, seriously you're freaking me out here." Well shit. I didn't get it together fast enough. I gathered myself as best I could, focusing on the cool steel below my fingertips.

"Norm, I think I might be dying." I said trying to project my tired and scared voice through the bathroom door. 

"WHAT? OH MY GOD. Shit... shit! What's wrong? What do you mean? Let me in. Please, open the door." I could hear the panic laced in his voice. The handle on the door rattled as Norm tried to enter the bathroom. 

"Stop!" I commanded "Hold on. I'm-I'm bleeding."

"Oh sweet Jesus open the door." Norm said and the door handle rattled so hard that I thought the lanky scientist might break it.

"It's... coming from down there. Don't come in, it's embarrassing!" I lamented. The quiver in my voice made Norm immediately understand.

"Oh... sweetheart that's not... um, you're, uh, not going to die. Just... clean yourself up in the bath. I'll get you clothes and then me and Max need to have a talk with you." I tilted my head at that, a million questions running through my mind. Did he know what was going on? Why did he seem so relieved? This was horrible! But, I did as was told and waited outside, fidgeting nervously.

And that my friends, is the story of my very first lesson from Norm and Max about the wonders of womanhood. Oh what a joy it was. Of course, they had been severely awkward with it. Max was slightly better, mostly because he had had sisters back on Earth so he actually knew how to use a pad. Ah pads, I think wistfully. I remember them. They were absolutely wonderful. Of course they all ran out by the time I was fifteen. Nowadays I use reusable cotton pads. Not bad, but they were a pain in the ass to make and I always seemed to lose them in the wash. Luckily, Norm is a softie, so I often convince him to help me make them with the promise of my special pancakes made from wheat bread ration. Of course, I'd always been able to get Norm to practically do anything. Partly because of my sickness and the fact that I was his little girl helped. All I had to do was say I was having a bad day and give him the eyes and bingo, my lovely full day of pad making was now cut in half. Success! Max, however, is not as easily swayed; he had always been the more logical and sensible one. I later asked them why they hadn't warned me in advance about periods. I remember laughing when Norm bashfully rubbed his neck and admitted that they simply hadn't thought about it before now.

That was how it has always been. Max was the voice of reason, the one who reminds me to eat when I need to and reminds Norm that I am stronger than I look. I appreciate him more than I even thought possible. Norm was more of the doting type, almost motherly in his spoiling of me. Always letting me a little further, a little longer than necessary in the few times that I was able to take an oxygen mask and run around by the cave as a young kid. Between the two of them I was in good hands. My mother wouldn't have left me with them when she died if they weren't worthy. And so I became their daughter. I don't call either of them dad or father or anything like that but I know that they’re my parents. I love them so, so dearly. Even when Norm ate the last chocolate bar when I was eight. Incidentally this was not long after the Txeyu situation, eight was a hard year too! A portal to hell opened in the lab that day; my sobbing was louder than the banshees on the Hallelujah mountains.

I sigh and sit the puzzle down on my desk. This was my reality lately. All I seemed to be able to do was think about the past. Perhaps because I finally realized I have no future here. There was nothing for me here, nothing except Max and Norm (and Jake, I suppose, but his visits were few and far between and he always seemed a little uncomfortable around me). When they're gone I would have nothing, be nothing. I mean sure I had friends, two to be exact, and one very annoying close acquaintance. Kiri and Tuk were the former and Lo'ak was the latter. He had recently been demoted from best friend status after breaking one of my only CDs (of course jazz CDs were some of the only music to be left behind when everyone left), even after I had told him to be careful with it when putting it in the player. 

The Suli children were the only link I had to the outside world at this point. They had become my friends purely by accident. It happened when Jake was coming to visit Norm and Max to discuss a raid. Lo'ak and Kiri had followed him, no doubt a scheme cooked up by Lo'ak and of course Kiri went along with it. They had been curious where their father ran off to every few weeks despite their mother looking irritated every time he left, promising her that it wouldn’t be long and that he'd be home before dinner. Neteyam had tried to stop them but they lost him by the retired elders hut, slipping away when he wasn't paying them express attention and was answering a question about his training posed by a well-respected elder.

On that fateful day I had actually been outside the caves for once, with Norm watching me from afar to make sure my mask was on and I was walking well enough on my own. I remember looking up at Jake, smiling, and saying hello to the friendly giant (hey, he was friendly to me). He greeted me in english then headed for the door. Behind the bushes near the cave entrance were two meddlesome ten year olds with their jaws practically on the floor. They had never seen a sky person that was so small except Spider, they guessed I must be a child too!

"Lo'ak look! I didn't know that any sky people children live here besides Spider." Kiri said, pointing to my small figure that was about fifteen meters away from them, oblivious to the eyes watching me as I picked a small bouquet of wild flowers to put in my room. 

"Yeah. But, what the hell is wrong with her legs??" Lo'ak said loudly before Kiri elbowed him in the gut. I had heard his voice that time, strange and in a language I didn't understand yet so I stood quickly as panic set in. 

"Hello? Who is there? Jake Sully is here, so you can't hurt me! He's Toruk Makto and he'll protect me!" I called out to them as the flower I was holding fell down at my side. Kiri and Lo'ak simply looked at each other, astonished that I was speaking at all, but especially since I knew their father’s title.

"Hello." I heard a deeply accented voice respond back to me in english. My eyebrows shot up when I heard it. I knew right away that it was coming from a Na'vi child. The accent was unmistakably inhuman. Not to say it was bad sounding, in fact I had always found the native accent to be beautiful. It was just different than the way humans spoke.

"Um.... who are you? Can you come out now? You're scaring me." I said to the bush that was now in front of me. I made my way over to them while they argued about whether it was a good idea to come out or not. I watched as a blue head popped out from behind the bush. I couldn't help the gasp that came out of my mouth at the sight of a little boy around my age.

"I am Kiri and this is Lo'ak." Kiri responded to me as she came fully out of the bush from behind Lo’ak, a hand wrapped around Lo'ak's forearm pulling him along. "Jake Suli is our father." My eyes widened in surprise as I suddenly felt embarrassed to have used Jake as a threat. I made my way over to them slowly, wincing when my ankle twisted slightly to the right. 

"Oh... uh-hi. My name is (Y/N). Mr. Sully told me about you... I met Kiri before but we were both babies, right after she came out of Grace… so I don't remember, I'm sorry!" I was completely unsure of what to say. Goddamnit why did I have to mention Grace? The only company I ever kept were Norm and Max with the occasional visit from the other sky people and the scarily limited friends I had as a toddler and young child. I knew, of course, through Grace's videos and Norms education of the Na'vi (specifically the Omaticayans) to be respectful in my language and not to use figures of speech. 

"The Na'vi have an extraordinary understanding of the English language already. They learn faster than my team can seem to teach them. Fortunately for them, our pronunciation is a lot less important than their language. Unfortunately for us that means a lot more of them understand us then the other way around. The only way to talk in secret around them is to use figures of speech. Unfortunately they may find this rather offensive if they call you out on it, especially when you accidentally call one of the clans best a brown noser. God, I had a hell of a time explaining that one to them."  I remember that video log with great fondness. I had only watched it a week prior for the first time after Norm finally gave approval for me to watch some of the video logs that were more personal to Grace, rather than the usual educational ones (also the ones in which she was drunk). The new blue people in front of me just stared at me with wide eyes. They could not believe I was being so bold for such a tiny thing. Finally the girl shifted and flicked her brother with her tail, breaking him out of the trance he was in. 

"Well... do you wanna play with us?" Was the only thing Lo'ak could think of to say. I shifted nervously. I hadn't played with any Na’vi since the incident with Txeyu. As I picked nervously at the dirt under my nails I let out a short sigh.

"I'm not allowed to play with you guys I think?" It came out as more of a question than a statement. These were Jake's kids, so maybe Norm would be fine with it? Plus, I noticed as they both deflated and started fidgeting with their jewelry and hair that they have hands like Norms avatar body, so that means they're like me! They also have demon blood, so they could understand me, maybe. Just as they turned around to leave after waving goodbye I called out to them. 

"Actually, I think Max and Norm would be okay. If it's Jake's kids. He's a good guy so you guys must be too!" I cringe remembering my naivety. Luckily I was correct, they were "good guys"... and we have been good friends for years now… except when they break my things! I sighed and walked over to the mangled remains of my precious jazz CD. I had already tried gluing the pieces back together. CDs really didn't work that way though, so I tried recording myself singing the songs but I could never sing the way the woman on the CD did so eventually I just gave up. Luckily this gave me the genius idea to record all the remaining CDs I had in case another unfortunate alien boy decided to jam a damn disk into the computer halfway before closing it and breaking it in half!

As I flopped down onto the chair beside my desk I played Beethoven's String Quartet no. 14, 1st Movement to try to quiet my mind. I know from Norm and Max that classical music was one of the least popular genres from Earth but I always had a fascination with it. Not that there was really a choice when I had 5 CDs to my name. Crap. 4 CDs to my name. Beethoven's greatest symphonies, Etta James's At Last (previously, Rest In Peace Etta), Metallica's Black album or 5th album (I wasn't as much of a fan now, but I had some really cathartic times with that album when I was an angsty 13 year old), a burned CD titled "2005 Car Mix" with a variety of pop songs, and a guided sleep meditation music CD (I had never gotten bored enough to actually sit down and attempt to meditate with it) were the musical companions in my life. 

The only exception were occasions when the clan had a large festival or feast and I could hear the sounds of the Omaticayans singing and chanting. Those were always my favorite nights. I would often sit and weave something while I listened to hundreds of voices commune with Eywa, to celebrate a new life or one just ending. That’s one of the only past times I have that I really enjoy. Sometimes I even hum along, pretending that I was a member of the clan. I could almost smell the earthen musk that always clung to every Na'vi. Like they were really one with the forest, as if they were born of the forest. They were so natural in it, just as natural as a fish in the water. As I hum I feel the tickle of a tail brushing against my back and the heat radiating from the thighs of the two Na'vi on either side of me. A brief peace floods into my body, relaxing my muscles one by one before I remember who I am and where I am. I remember again that I was born a human on Pandora, and the dream is broken. That fantasy is not me, no matter how much I wish it so. 

I should really stop torturing myself like this. The only thing fantasizing does is fester and ferment into anger. Anger at my mother, maybe? I mean she did pass on the thing to me. Maybe at Eywa? Do I even believe in Eywa? Sometimes I swear I feel her all around me, in the plants waving in the winds or the sounds of the cave. In the dripping water and wind rushing past the mouth of the cave, dancing through the hallelujah mountains. I hear her in the banshees shrill cries at dawn, and the thanators mighty roar at twilight. Do I even have the right to believe in her? To be angry at the hand dealt to me? By being born on Pandora, does that mean that Eywa is in control of my destiny like her Na'vi children? Am I one of her children?

I ponder this as I weave on the loom that Kiri gave to me last year for my nineteenth birthday. She brings me plenty of string and teaches me new techniques every moon cycle on our ritual ‘girls night’. Although honestly she might get in trouble if anyone finds out about that. A lot of Na'vi wouldn't appreciate a sky person knowing cultural weaving techniques that have been passed down for generations through the Omaticayans: who are known as great craftsmen. My girl Kiri is a total badass though, so she still teaches me anyway. 

Kiri, Tuk, Lo'ak are the only reasons I haven't gone verifiably insane yet as I waste away on this planet. As much as I love Max and Norm, their company doesn't ever change much. There's never anything new going on with human settlement. Always the same issues that we discuss over dry, flavorless ration food. The problems of growing food in the Pandoran soil, which may be lush and fertile for the home plant species, but is absolutely terrible for Earth plants. Always some new trouble that Spider had gotten into with Lo’ak. We are always having trouble with having enough batteries for the tanks to furnish all the humans with oxygen. Yet another reason why I don't go outside. I'm a waste of resources and while Max and Norm can't admit that, I can. I know I'm useless, honestly I wish that I could be of help in even the science realm but hello, there's no school on Pandora and both Max and Norm are horrible teachers. I mean I'm smart but I cannot figure out fucking geometry on my own?! Plus the other humans didn't leave behind any lesson plans for children when they left so I'm pretty much S.O.L. 

I’m pulling a soft blue, almost feathery string through another row on the loom when I hear Max and Norm talking outside of my room in the main lab. I strain my ears but I cannot make much sense of the words I can hear.

"Jake doesn't know.... yeah... ready... think... okay jeez, Max." Eh, nothing to really worry about, I decide. Probably the same old shit in a different toilet. I tune out their talking and focus on the crescendo of one of Mozart's greatest hits before almost dropping the loom when I hear a sharp knock on the door. I get up and turn to press the pause button on the CD player before opening the door. Standing there is a very excited looking Max and a very nervous looking Norm. 

"Oh my God, what is it this time?" I said recollecting a time when I had opened the very same door to them looking very similar to this moment and they had practically accused me of having a crush on Lo'ak. As if! I would never have a crush on Lo'ak. He's like an annoying little brother to me and he's always hiding my stuff just to irritate me or pulling a single hair out one at a time till I yell at him to stop. But I think that may be the reason that we get along so well, he doesn’t see me as different like everyone else does. He has always teased and roughhoused with me like he would Kiri or Spider, albeit a bit gentler.

"Hey kiddo, we just wanted to wish you a Happy Birthday. We know you're finally 20! You're a grown woman now..." Norm trailed off looking wistful. Max took up after Norm, who was reminiscing like a parent would on their child’s birthday. 

"And we have something to show you! Something we have been working on for a long time now." He threw an arm around Norm to emphasize the we.

"Did you get the Rewon Tanhì that I asked for?" I asked excitedly. I had been asking them to find me a morning star flower on their expeditions and missions since I heard of them a few months ago. Kiri told me they glow in the dark even after being cut from the bush, an indigo bioluminescent glow that never fades. They're fairly rare so Max said they would keep an eye out but to not count on them finding one. I planned on an open air terrarium to use as a night light if they ever happened upon one while they were out doing research. I just wanted to bring a little of Pandora's beautiful bioluminescent night flora to me since I can’t go outside to see them myself.

"It's something a bit more exciting than that. Come on, follow us, kiddo." Max said before grabbing my wrist and pulling me forward toward the back of the lab. He seemed a little too excited and I almost tripped forward with the force of his pulling. I laughed and told him to slow down a little bit. 

"Sorry, it's just been really difficult to keep this under wraps. You have no idea how many times I almost told you. Honestly, I'm surprised Norm hasn't." Max said, chuckling as Norm exclaimed an indignant "Hey!" while shaking his head fondly.

We reached the back door of the lab that went to the actual laboratory, of which I am typically not allowed into. I'm generally very clumsy because of my issues and Max is always doing some sort of dangerous chemistry experiment that would cause some serious damage if I knocked it over. Maybe even an explosion if the right compounds are left laying around. While that might bring me some much needed excitement to my life, I still opt to just leave the lab alone. 

"It's in the chem lab?" I asked, entirely confused as to what I could possibly want to see in there. It was the most boring room in the whole building.

"Yes. And you need to close your eyes. I want it to be a complete surprise." Norm said, looking over at Max while wiggling his eyebrows like a total goof.

"Okaaaay...." I said, finding their strange demeanor highly suspicious. I closed my eyes and felt Max's large hand on my shoulder, guiding me. I could feel the warmth of it seeping into my skin as Norm, presumably, opened the door to the chem lab. The shrill shriek of ungreased steel grinding on steel was heard in the chem lab and the rustle of thick canvas-like fabric made me shift my weight to my other foot anxiously.

"Okay... come on in guys." Norm says as Max guides me in the room, making sure I don't trip as I step over the raised door frame. I was taken about 10 feet into the lab before Norm told me I could open my eyes. I blinked slowly as my eyes adjusted to the sterile white lab lights. I could only cock an eyebrow, unimpressed as my eyes land on what looks like a large tube covered in a large brown tarp of some sort. The tube had to be at least ten feet long. I looked over at Norm expectantly and a flash of recognition came on his face as he stumbled forward to pull off the tarp.

"Sorry..." he mumbled while lifting the heavy fabric off the large tube. Inside the tube is a female Na'vi. No actually, I count 5 fingers, so it’s an avatar. She was jerking and I could see her nose twitch, like she had smelled the acrid dung of a viperwolf. I realized it bared a strong resemblance to my own as I reached out to touch the glass. When I did she curled forward slightly toward my touch, almost as if she was reaching out to me as well. As she stretched out of the fetal position I saw her whole face and my world stopped. 

"No... there's no way. You guys said there was no way." I whispered looking over at Max and Norm. I couldn't allow myself to believe it until they told me through their own mouths. I had gotten my hopes crushed too many times as a child to allow myself to believe this so easily.

"Well, remember when Grace's Avatar started deteriorating when you were thirteen? And then when you were fourteen we laid her to rest? Well using her chamber and some supplies we found at an abandoned outpost we were actually able to incubate an avatar for you. That's you sweetheart." Norm said, grinning at me and gesturing to the body. 

I feel my knees tremble and buckle as a litany of emotions surges through me, falling forward slightly before Max caught me and helped me up. All I could do was bury my head in his shoulder and cry. These men, who loved me and raised me, have given me the gift of life again. I couldn't breathe so I just squeezed him and shook as the emotions and fears flew through me. I could vaguely register Norm coming up behind me to hug both of us. After a good cathartic cry we all released each other from our group hug. 

"I... I don't know how... I can't... thank you, both of you." Was all I could manage to get out as my voice trembled with emotion. Hesitantly I walked over to the avatar. "She's... beautiful." I reached out to touch the warm glass, tracing my fingers over her face. Well, I guess my face? I guess it will feel more like my face after the consciousness transfer. Her blue skin looks so radiant and soft. Unlike the Na'vi I know she looks so untouched. Almost like a child. She is free of the scarring that comes with growing up in the dangerous Pandoran forests. I admire the markings on her face, taking in all the details and tanhì, or bioluminescent freckles that spray across her face and body. Her hair floats in the blue solution cascading in waves down the gentle slope of her back all the way to her tail.

"We know. Trust me, we know how much you need this. How much you've needed this since you were a kid... and yes she really is beautiful." Norm compliments, squeezing my shoulder. 

"Now, I have to say this before you get your hopes up. We have great hope that the consciousness transfer will work, but kiddo, there's a small possibility that it might not and I need to prepare you for that." Max says solemnly from my right side. That was just like him, always ruining a sentimental moment with his warnings. 

"I know, Max. But still, the fact that you wasted all these resources on me means a lot." I said, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"It's not a waste. Don't… don’t say that, (Y/N). We would both do anything to make you happy." Max replies, looking over at Norm as he nods to me.

"So when can I go in?" I said as I finally let the excitement fill me. It was so strong that my stomach feels queasy; to the point that I feel I might throw up my wheat ration pancakes. 

"Well," Norm piped up, "we were thinking about doing a test run tomorrow. Kiri and Lo'ak are supposed to come anyway for movie night. We thought you'd like to surprise them." I nodded excitedly while smiling at them. I truly loved these two men. They were the closest things I had to parents and I'm so grateful that mom left me in their care. My chest feels so warm as I give both of them another short hug that I think it might explode out of me in a spray of rainbows and sugar. Honestly, all this lovey dovey shit was getting sickening. 

"Now let's go have some birthday food." Norm suggests while he unfolds the tarp to cover it up again. We went and ate our traditional birthday barbecue (not really because it's not cooked on a grill but we have lots of blow torches for sciencey reasons that we use to cook it). It's a decadent meal that could only be spared a few times a year, and one of my absolute favorites. After that they sang me Happy Birthday, and all-mighty Eywa was it super off-key. Soon after that I bid them a goodnight so that I can go to bed early so tomorrow will come a little faster. As I lie in bed all I can think of is tomorrow morning and the possibility of being unable to establish a neural link. 

Due to my anxiety-induced insomnia morning approaches slower than I thought physically possible. Did the suns somehow get delayed rising? Because I swear I've been in bed for two days tossing and turning. Just as I'm about to flip my pillow to the cool side for the fortieth time I hear a gentle knock on my door. 

"Hey, kiddo, it's time to get up. Figured you wouldn't mind an early start today." Max called through the door from the other side. Exhausted, I roll over and heave myself off the bed to get dressed. It takes me a little more time than usual but I finally put on some clothes and bumble out of my bedroom door. 

"Wow. So, no sleep huh?" Norm teases as he looks up from cooking breakfast. 

"Yeah, no. Too excited." I respond, rolling my eyes at him dramatically. I keep glancing at the chem lab door while I impatiently watch him cook and Max notices.

"You have to eat first. It's not ideal that you're tired for your first transfer but it would honestly be way worse if you were hungry too. So. Eat." Max demands pointedly. I sigh as Norm puts a plate down in front of me. I feel my skin buzzing while I eat the breakfast I have thousands of times faster than I ever have before. I almost choke shoveling down the eggs and veggies.

"Hey slow down. Can't have you dying on us before you can actually try." Max says jokingly. Norm pushes him with his arm. 

"Max, don't say that. That's not funny." Norm huffs, giving Max the stink eye. 

"Yeah, yeah." Max replies and I drift away from their bickering as I wait for them to finish breakfast. After we all finish Max goes through a few rules for the transfer and Norm helps me into one of the weird jelly beds used for transfers. He places the wire caging around me and turns away before I grab his shirt and tug on it through the holes of the cage.

"Norm.. Max... I'm scared." I admit.

"I know. But, you have to be brave. I know you can do it." Max said and Norm added a "Yeah, me too." I released his shirt slowly and sighed.

"I know... okay I'm ready." I say and try to relax. As I hear Max flip a few switches and Norm closes the lid I could cuss myself out. Why didn't I try that meditation CD last night?! I think as I try to steady my breathing like Max told me to. As I breathe in I see the flashes of light from the machine. Okay, ‘breathe and count backwards from 20 if you need help’ is what Max advised at breakfast.

In. Twenty.

Out. Nineteen.

In. Eighteen.

Out. Seventeen.

In. Sixteen.

Out. Fifteen.

In. Fourteen.

Just as I am about to call out to Max that it's not working I completely black out. I'm not exactly sure how to describe the experience of a consciousness transfer, how it feels or looks. I think that it feels like dying in a way. It feels like a complete separation from your body, like you are floating out of it, then next thing you know you are blinking at a blinding light ahead of you.

If you have any suggestions or feedback please comment down below or message me! This is my first fanfic in a while, so please excuse my poor grammar. And thank you for reading! Neteyam and the reader will be meeting next chapter.

@skeletondeerart

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x avatar!reader #neteyam x disabled!reader #platonic!tuk x reader #platonic!lo'ak x reader #platonic!kiri x reader #norm spellman x daughter!reader #max patel x daughter!reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam suli x reader

[apple-salad]

Mary Magdalene’s Faltetto/Farutetto Dress: Remnants of 2017

Mary Magdalene recently made a few sample and leftover stock items available for purchase on their website, and I was very, very lucky to be able to get not one, but both colours that I had been wanting for years. 

In this post, I’d like to share some pretty pictures of these pieces (especially the “new” colours which we have seen so rarely), but also talk about a little bit of my history (and Mary Magdalene’s history) with these dresses. Because I feel like this little-known knowledge must be documented somewhere....

Companion posts: 2023 Faltetto unboxing+some details (mist and navy), initial worn post, petticoat/bustle post

Note: while this dress is most often known by the name of “Farutetto” due to this translation being used on Lolibrary, I will be calling it “Faltetto” since Mary Magdalene has translated it this way on their website.

Table of Contents

Prologue Rambles: Mary Magdalene (the brand)

Faltetto (2017)

Faltetto (2018/Le Panier event)

Le Panier/Fée d’une Fleur incident

Faltetto (2022)

Faltetto (2023/Samples)

Unboxing

Faltetto comparisons

Epilogue Rambles: Mary Magdalene’s Future

Faltetto dress. This dress design was first released in 2011, with a rerelease in 2014 that included a new colour, amethyst (a purple). This was basically Mary Magdalene’s last good year, with no more original main piece designs being released since. I don’t think anyone knows for sure why Mary Magdalene dropped off after this, but common theories are factory issues or management issues. The brand has pretty much been on life support since, with demand outpacing a near-nonexistent supply.

Mary Magdalene has always been a small brand, with a very small number of each release being produced. Secondhand prices for many coveted items are incredibly high, making for an overall depressing outlook on the brand, and in similar ways classic lolita in general, which currently appears to have a much smaller number of wearers than the other two main substyles sweet and gothic.

Mary Magdalene is the brand that got me into lolita, and remains my favourite, beloved brand--and I think many others feel the same. It feels both rewarding and disheartening to obtain some items directly from the brand (a first for me). I have always tried to keep an eye on the brand’s activities since releases started dropping off, but as updates started dwindling to once a year, or sometimes once every two years, I don’t always stay on top of it.

Still, Mary Magdalene’s activities around 2017~2018 in China are largely unknown or misunderstood, so I hope writing about what I know may provide some knowledge to the community.

Finally, into the Faltetto content. The Faltetto dress was actually rereleased in 2017 at an event in Guangdong (I believe it was an anime/culture event with some Japanese lolita brand guests, but I can no longer remember the details). As far as I know, it was intended as an early reservation/MTO with a general reservation intended to be made available to the public shortly afterwards. Mary Lou OP was also available to reserve, with a few new colours. The general reservation did actually happen for this dress later in 2017, but Faltetto never did. Which is only the start of difficulties with this release...

Promotional image of the event. I’m glad I saved this, because it doesn’t seem to be viewable on weibo anymore.

Two new colours were introduced:「 枣红色」, or what would later become known as “maroon”; and 「雪灰色」”snow gray”, or what would also later be revealed to be “mist”. The maroon colourway was supposed to be an event limited colour, though I don’t know if this meant that it was originally intended to be only available for the event or maybe only available at the event + the online shop (it seemed like historically Mary Magdalene limited colourways were “online shop limited” or “online shop and KERA shop limited”, so it would be rare for a colour to not be available online)

I think a lot more people ordered the maroon colour vs. the mist, as I have seen the maroon a few times on xianyu since, but never the mist. Red is a lucky colour, so it makes sense. But I had always been in love with the mist. I came very close to reserving the mist through two levels of SS (CN SS talking to a event SS via xianyu), but the fees and conversion rate made me balk (I was quoted about $430 USD for everything but international shipping, which in retrospect was probably worth it to not live through the heartache. For reference, the event sell price was 2127 RMB), plus I thought that Mary Magdalene themselves would make the dress available sometime soon, so I never followed through. Terrible regret on that one.

The dresses were scheduled for shipment some time near the end of 2017, but production was slightly delayed into spring of 2018. I believe that the dresses didn’t necessarily ship out all at once, so some of the orders that were fulfilled later came with a free headdress.

The picture of the maroon headdress I have saved seems to be the Claudia Headdress with ivory side ribbons instead of red ones. The picture of the mist that I have saved seems to be totally different, with one single strip of lace (similar to Rose Cameo Headdress, except without the ruffles) used for the hairband part.

This is a picture of my regular release Claudia headdress, which has red side ribbons (I am trying to avoid posting pictures that aren’t mine if I can). The lace matches that used for the free headdresses, although the included hairband was a very thin ribbon-covered wire band, not a plastic one.

A couple weibo users posted pictures of their mist, and knowing that the dress both exists and basically doesn’t gave me terrible heartache....I wouldn’t doubt if it gave you, the reader, terrible heartache too, since the numbers remain few. But I believe some hope out there exists that Mary Magdalene will have a larger reservation intake for these someday...

I later found the maroon secondhand on xianyu in 2018, and purchased it.

The dress has a few differences from my (probably older) other Faltettos. I’ve added a few comparison photos at the end of this post, as well as a few comparison pictures in my unboxing post.

About halfway through 2018, a new lolita magazine, “Le Panier”, was released. A number of other lolita blogs have posts on the magazine, but the general concept was a more premium, artistic “high fashion” lolita magazine. The magazine was published in a Chinese and Japanese version. Mary Magdalene was featured in the magazine (which was a surprising and very rare thing to see), in just one page:

Not the best picture of this page, but hopefully it’s readable. The dress is indicated as “Faltetto Dress 2018″. I also forgot that there were a number of coords in the magazine styled to each sister in “Little Women” (I wouldn’t say all of them hit the mark, but lolita works okay for Meg).

Midori Fukasawa wearing Faltetto in mist. The coord uses a brooch and tights from Mary Magdalene’s personal collection seen in a number of their other stock photos. The blouse is Faltetto Blouse, bonnet is Bisque Doll Bonnet and the shoes are Lace-up Ribbon Strap Shoes. While I think Mary Magdalene’s intentions here are genuine, the description just feels like betrayal.

2017年にイベントで先行発売。 人気を呼んだファルテットドレスのミストカラーが、 ついに一般でも発売に。

This page is, I think, proof enough that Mary Magdalene definitely intended to open a general reservation for Faltetto at the time. Along with the publication of the first volume of the magazine, Le Panier announced and held a large tea party in Shanghai, featuring many Japanese brands as guests (including Mary Magdalene, Metamorphose, Victorian Maiden, Juliette et Justine...), as well as touting exclusive items and reservations. And this was the start of the problems...

It’s hard to not bring up Le Panier without also mentioning the Juliette et Justine Fée d’Une Fleur incident. This is in fact also relevant to me, as I preordered that dress💧

I can’t remember all the information regarding the incident, but to keep things hopefully brief, it boils down to the dress not being what was promised. 

Fée d’une fleur is quite a coveted dress in China (and it is incredibly rare, being from 2008, I believe was made to order by reservations, and also was expensive for the time), and it sounds like lolitas had been requesting JetJ to rerelease it for some time. Soupir d’ange had been released a few years prior with similar design elements, but was not the same (notably, the skirt “petals” are not placed and do not drape in the same lovely way). It seemed unlikely that the original would ever be rereleased because apparently the original pattern had been lost, and manufacture would be incredibly costly.

So when Le Panier announced that JetJ would be taking exclusive reservations for the Fée d’une Fleur, Chinese lolitas were incredibly excited. The original  Fée d’une fleur stock image was used in Le Panier’s announcement post.

Among this, reservations for Faltetto were presented for two new colourways:

Navy and a lilac (I do not know the official colour name, but one Chinese poster called it “light purple”. And yes, the provided photo quality was extremely bad).

The price for Fée d’une fleur was significantly higher than previous (original price: 37800 JPY, le panier price: 4600 RMB [converts to about 77400 yen at the time]), which I think bothered people, but the bigger problem appeared at the event...

The sample Fée d’une fleur looked nothing like the original that was promised. 

The sample dress can be seen in the background of this catwalk picture.

The colours and drape were just off. The response was so bad that Le Panier had the designer of Juliette et Justine come up and promise that it will be exactly like the original. But few seemed to be convinced.

I ended up going ahead with the preorder anyway, because I had already paid my SS. I didn’t mind the differences as long as the colour was corrected on the final product. Juliette et Justine ended up releasing reservations for this “Fée d’une Fleur 2018″ to the general public, with a "lavender pink” colorway as well.

By the way, the price on JetJ’s website for this was ¥68000 without tax (¥73440 with tax, which I think was 8% at the time). Le Panier later did also give those who reserved a discount of I think 300 RMB off the original list price because of the price difference (I can no longer remember exactly how much, it was maybe 300-400 RMB).

There were two blue colorways released. The one on the right, “sax blue” was the one shipped to Le Panier reservees and was labeled on the site as the colour of the original, while the one of the left, “mint” reminds me more of the sample...I wonder if it was meant to evoke the original 2008 dress better with a more pronounced difference between colorations (it still feels off, though)

Le Panier reservations received a few extra gifts: a matching floral brooch-clip (with small JetJ charm) and some Le Panier gifts (I chose the JetJ rabbit tote, which I believe was a gift available for a small additional fee with the Chinese release of the magazine, and washi tape selection). I also think the Le Panier reservations shipped first, but that’s whatever. I almost would have preferred the lower JPY converted price without SS fees and getting points from JetJ’s site, but the brooch is nice with the dress, I guess, and the dress itself turned out okay as long as you knew what you were signing up for (the stock photos of this 2018 release were accurate to what was shipped).

To this day I’ve never used the tote. I think it says Le Panier on it.

Closer look at the washi tape and the back of the brooch with JetJ charm. Le Panier made (I think) 3 types of washi tape with 3 different brands, and I think I was randomly given this JetJ one. No idea why we weren’t able to get all 3, but whatever.

The final dress still has some shortcuts taken like a few tulle/mesh petal panels instead of all chiffon, and the length is also very long (ankle length on me, vs mid calf for the original). Also, the petal placement is still wrong (closer to soupir d’ange), but it looks okay if you don’t think about it too hard.

My old fairy coord (from 2018) with Fée d’une Fleur 2018.

And now, back to Faltetto again...

Mary Magdalene designer Rieko Tanaka herself attended the event, which was nice to see. A booth was set up with a few stock items (notably Aria Fleur, which went on sale on the Mary Magdalene website in 2022. At that time, a few of the OP variations were sold out, so I can only assume they sold out here. Other pieces for sale were a single Copine Georgette JSK in pink, and a preview of the rerelease of Arabesque Rose).

Price for the navy or lilac Faltetto was 2000 RMB, plus shipping fees from Japan. Depending on the ticket level purchased, 2 or 1 piece per colour could be reserved (I think the might have later been increased to 3?). Apparently, these colours were supposed to be limited to the Le Panier event.

A sample version of the lilac Faltetto was on display, and the navy was shown during the fashion show. 

The bodice lace on this faltetto is the same as mine! I think the navy sample sold in 2023 is likely be the very same as this one presented in 2018.

I am unsure if I should upload a photo of the lilac here as I think the photos I saved were posted by individual participants of the event, but I’ll consider it if someone would really like to see it (the colour is quite similar to the grainy stock above).

I wonder now why Mary Magdalene didn’t post the sample of the lilac for sale along with all the other faltetto samples, but it may be because the lilac was missing the lace/braid at the front (for the event, the detachable bows were placed there to make the area less lacking).

I am quite fond of navy colourways, so upon hearing that a navy faltetto was something that was going to exist, I searched for an SS for it (I think I used Chinese Lolita Updates because I didn’t want to use two levels of SS), paid the deposit, and waited.

It looks like this particular attendee/SS reserved the maximum of 3 dresses for VIP ticketholders.

I can’t remember if the dresses had an estimated ship date, but they’ll ship when they’re ready...

...right? 

After much silence, in 2019, about a year exactly since the event, Le Panier announced that Mary Magdalene would not be able to produce the dresses, and everyone would be refunded. Mary Magdalene posted an informational notice on their website, which had an unfortunate translation error:

This follow up was added later:

I’m surprised that it doesn’t seem to be common knowledge what the “gift” that Mary Magdalene gave to people who reserved, but it is very minor--a small Mary Magdalene logo mirror.

I had to ask my SS to ship this to me, actually, as I think they deemed it too minor to bother spending the money to ship (shipping ended up being fairly cheap because the item was so small and light, though). It sounded like they were going to throw it away if I had not asked!

Le Panier also mentioned that they would give an extra gift and 100 RMB voucher, but I can’t remember what that was and/or if I ever used the voucher. Probably not, since all the things Le Panier sold were a bit expensive (imagine brand new Japanese brand retail prices plus SS fees, and then conversion... much easier to just buy directly from Japan)

Anyways, this whole thing just... sucked, really. Le Panier seemed to have dragged multiple brands’ names through the mud (I will not talk about it here, but there is the infamous VM Classical Doll incident as well), had a track record of numerous other hiccups and operational issues at their events/booths/sales, and overall was losing Chinese lolitas’ trust very quickly.

I should note that Mary Magdalene had attended another Chinese event some time in 2018 where they took reservations for a rerelease of Perfume Bottle, but production of that also failed with much silence from the brand (there was even going to be a new dark purple colourway). It’s very strange that the 2017 Faltettos were able to be manufactured, whilst planned pieces from 2018 weren’t, but I think these two incidents mean that the factory problems are real.

Later in 2018 Le Panier also took reservations for the rerelease of Arabesque Rose that was previewed at the event. These were in fact manufactured and shipped successfully around 2019 (+ I believe the Le Panier reservations came with a free headbow), and extra stock was uploaded to the Mary Magdalene website in 2022 as “Arabesque Rose Midi Dress”. The fabric used was identical to the original, with fewer colourways (caramel, iris and navy--no offwhite), no rose lace at the bottom, no shirring/less corset lacing loops, and slightly wider (weirder in my opinion) bows. While I am happy these were in fact produced, the rerelease looks like a sad shadow of the original, and the long bows with skinny, tight middles look like replicas (why is this type of bow so common on replicas? Not cute, in my opinion).

Le Panier continued to (attempt to) sell a few extra Mary Magdalene items on their website, but their bad reputation along with interest in Mary Magdalene being quite scarce at the time meant that selling the stock took a little while.

Le Panier’s original shop URL no longer functions, but they remain modestly active on Weibo. Le Panier volume 2 was published in late 2019, including a small report of the 2018 event, and there hasn’t been any more publications since. Perhaps Le Panier was started by a well-meaning lolita enthusiast who was a bit too ambitious and wasn’t able to manage their brand and event well. Or, perhaps it was a poorly executed plan to make a profit off of Chinese lolitas involving convincing Japanese brands to overpromise exclusive items and reservations, as well as resell Japanese lolita goods...potentially run by someone who doesn’t fully understand lolita/lolitas. 

After this, Mary Magdalene went silent for a while...and maybe I don’t blame them after all these Chinese events kind of exploded on them. It’s a little disappointing how much attention and exclusivity was turned to China during this time (I was seriously mourning that Mist had turned into a “2017 China event reservation only exclusive”), but most everyone came out empty handed, so was it really that exclusive in the end...?

Mary Magdalene saw a small return to activity in 2020, with a rerelease of the Génoise coat. But, after that...silence...for 2 years.

In 2022, Faltetto in maroon was uploaded, plus a few in stock items which appeared to be leftovers or extras from Le Panier (Aria Fleur and Arabesque Rose as mentioned earlier; plus the Arabesque headbow in offwhite only which I feel like was just extra unsold stock from 2014, and some small number of perle lace bolero which MM stated explicitly that was just old stock from the original 2016 release).

This release of Faltetto was particularly interesting, as the listing stated:

今回の販売分は、通常の量産とは異なり一人の職人が一貫して製作した特別バージョンとなっております。価格の変更が御座います事を予めご了承の程お願い申し上げます。

Google translate: This sale is a special version that is consistently produced by one craftsman unlike normal mass production.

(the second portion apologizes that the price has been raised due to rising production costs, but the price difference is 30000 yen (excl. tax) vs the original 26800 yen (excl. tax), which is hardly egregious)

So, this release is not mass produced and should be quality controlled very carefully. How nice, I thought.

Although I already owned a maroon faltetto, I put in an order request through Mary Magdalene’s overseas form anyways, in the slim chance that the dress wouldn’t sell out before Mary Magdalene processed my order, and so I could perhaps compare a mass produced vs. non mass produced faltetto.

Unfortunately, the dress sold out shortly afterwards. And I received this response:

この度はご注文頂き有難うございます。 大変申し訳御座いませんが、現在、「ファルテットドレス(マルーン)」の在庫は御座いません。 今後、受注生産にて再販を予定しております。その際は優先的にご案内させて頂きます。 (また、今回キャンセルが発生した場合もご連絡させて頂きます) この度はご希望に添える事が出来ず大変申し訳御座いません。 何かご不明な点等御座いましたら、お気軽にご連絡下さいませ。 それでは、失礼致します。

Disappointing, but at least this reiterates that Mary Magdalene has an intention to have a general release/MTO of faltetto. (But it hasn’t happened...yet...)

I heard that the quality of this faltetto is good and “Mary Magdalene quality”, but I have never seen it in person. I will note that I don’t have any issues with my 2017 faltetto (aside from the fabric choice being a bit thin) and I’m not sure what would be considered “better quality” or more “individual craftman-like” than a normal faltetto.

All other items on the website sold out quickly, as expected.

And then silence again...until now. Almost a year exactly after the last update. Like before, the update came suddenly and without warning, simply mentioning that a few leftover stock/sample/B items were going to be added the next day between noon and evening (what a big help!...though, I think this was intentionally vague so that the website wouldn’t crash with condensed traffic at a scheduled time)

Special thanks to rabbitreverie to letting me know about this update. I had kind of lost hope by this point and was not checking the site regularly. We were both refreshing all night! The site update came suddenly, with some sample items already being sold out by the time I saw the update (and I think I was quite on the ball, too...). What an odd treasure trove of an update, though...I imagine the sample items were only one (and potentially one of a kind).

(In some ways, I’m just glad with this update that we finally get a better quality stock photo of mist. You don’t want to know what blurry, artifact riddled pictures I’d been gazing at before this.)

A Faltetto “2017″ was available! In maroon and mist. This lines up with the 2017 guangdong event, with likely the same product number (my maroon faltetto did not come with tags to confirm, sadly). Mary Magdalene must have made a few extra pieces of stock that they never got around to selling...maybe? It’s impossible to know how many pieces were available.

Everything on the website sold out in about 5 minutes or less, which is impressive considering there couldn’t have been many people who knew about the update. But there was also very, very little stock.

Sample Faltetto dresses were also available in a separate listing (Mary Magdalene labels the second section, mostly older items, “outlet”, with discounted prices to match the sample or flawed status of the items. But why is it cheap when people would definitely pay more?? I suppose it is the principle of the matter...).

Peacock, Amethyst, Maroon, and Navy (!) are all available as sample versions. From the provided pictures, it looks like Amethyst and Maroon are a bit more saturated than the released versions.

Of course I go for the mist and navy, given my history with the colours...and somehow I manage to check out with both of them whilst fumbling around trying to enter my information.

A few weeks later, I have them in my hands! It’s a bit of an emotional moment for me since Mist had been on my “dream dress but impossible” list since it was announced.

Given that this post is already getting so long and superfluous, I have the unboxing and detail pictures in another post.

And here is probably the most interesting part, the comparison pictures:

I have 5 Faltettos now... which is quite a lot...

Overall the dresses I own are quite similar, aside from the navy having some obvious differences due to being a sample, and the >2017 dresses having their skirt tier lace gathered with the main fabric. Note that I obviously have not laid these out in chronological release order, it just looked aesthetically pleasing in this arrangement.

I used to own a different version of the ecru faltetto, which I believe may have been an older release, and that one definitely had some more prominent differences (such as placement of the chest lace being a tiny bit lower, with the first row of embroidered dots clearly visible [like the stock photos], and the bustle loop being sewn on the same edge as opposed to being a strip folded in half [it’s hard to explain]). Thus, my brain wants to tell me that the pink and ecru faltettos I have may be from 2014, a little more on the recent side.

Anyways, I won’t comment much on the following photos since there isn’t much to say anyway (except 5 of the same dress as eye candy!)

Bodice details--always the same lace, although the colour might vary a bit between dye lots/releases

The gathered (or not) lace at the skirt.

The braid used also seems to be quite consistent.

If you look closely, the second row of stitching securing the braid down can vary a little between releases. Also, the navy has clear buttons instead of same-colour buttons, which is as expected.

They all look pretty similar from the back.

I tried to make the bustle loops of each dress visible in this photo. The way they are sewn is pretty consistent across the faltettos here that I currently own. I didn’t have the heart to untie the navy ribbon ties that had come pre-tied! But I imagine they’re about the same as all the others (the ecru is wrinkly because I had it tied up while I stored it)

While finishing up my photos, I pondered what other areas of difference might be of interest. So here’s a picture of all the linings. The mist and maroon are pretty consistent with each other, which makes sense since they are from the same year. Navy has the least nice lining (also makes sense as a sample), with pink having a satin lining similar to the others, and ecru having a thinner but potentially still satiny lining (It’s hard for me to tell looking at this photo because the dress is so wrinkled from storage)

The inner tags are also not of much interest, but dresses released in 2017 and onwards have the country of manufacture specified (Japan). It’s pretty unusual for Mary Magdalene to list where their clothes were manufactured, but it can be found on the occasional piece. While I don’t own enough modern pieces to know for sure, I have a feeling that all of their newer pieces from 2017 have the country listed.

The older dresses (in my case, pink and ecru) have a tag like above, with no country of manufacture (qnd no extra button attached). The navy has no washing tag at all--again, likely because it is a sample.

These were all the photos I thought worth taking--the interior of the dresses seemed to be quite similar when I checked them. Although, I did notice that the navy had the skirt seams pressed open, whereas all the rest have the seams pressed to one side. It makes very little to no difference to how the seam looks from the outside, so I’m not sure why it is like that (maybe a minor difference in pressing decision in a mass manufactured factory environment?)

So, now that Mary Magdalene has updated their website, what does this mean for the brand?

One depressing conclusion could be that they were clearing out stock of whatever they had left in the office, and will close soon...

But I am hopeful. Or choosing to remain hopeful, in any case. It has been over 5 years now since a rerelease of Faltetto was planned and promised, which is so long that it’s easy to conclude that those plans are dead. But...why would Mary Magdalene sell the one of a kind navy sample, the colour that was sold to way more than just one person, and cancelled on more than one person? And mist... that colourway was in a magazine, expressing to thousands of readers that they will be able to order it someday. It’s too unfair to only have some 5-10 mist and 1 navy in the world, especially with how constantly apologetic Mary Magdalene’s site messages are (heck, the “add to cart” buttons broke/displayed incorrectly after the update and MM added an apology message about that). So... could Mary Magdalene be clearing out Faltettos in preparation for a larger release of navy, maroon, mist, among others? Everyone who wants these unique colourways deserves to own them if they want, and we need more Mary Magdalene pieces in the world. I hope that a larger release of main pieces from Mary Magdalene is coming...

(note: since initially drafting this, Mary Magdalene opened up reservations for another release of Génoise coat. So, I’m hopeful, but it’s not a dress yet!)

Other notes:

I recommend Tamie’s video about Mary Magdalene for a little bit of further information and a different account. Complaints and problems with LePanier actually are more numerous than just the issues that Tamie brought up (which sounds ridiculous considering how many were mentioned), but I won’t talk about them here, especially because LePanier’s presence seems to have almost disappeared.

I do not know Chinese, so my information is limited. If there are any Chinese lolitas that know more or have read more detailed posts from the Chinese communities, please let me know anytime!

[clatoera]

Picket Fence is Sharp as Knives Chapter 2: Barefoot in the Wildest Winter, Catching my Death

Heeeeeey. Welcome back, I call this a mini chapter. It's still almost 3400 words. Thats insane of me. This chapter is

Clove centric/ Clato

20 months after the war/ 7 after the epilogue of ARWBFB

Ironic because the starbucks I wrote this in was so cold my fingers were fucking numb, which you will understand the irony of once you read it.

This is not..intense. It's just a palate cleanser after the Glimmer Prequel I posted this week. I think everyone needed it. I honestly wrote it because we got 10 inches of snow last week and currently are getting multiple more inches as we speak.

Anyway!

Chapter title from Evermore (Taylor Swift)

Masterpost

AO3

Theres also a good bit of cashmere/enobaria mentioned in honor of @bodyelectric77 giving me brain amoebas. I'm just going to tag @kentwells because this whole sequel is your fault. Anyway! Love y'all! love the besties! love everyone! ( I just..love love),

By virtue of the location, the widespread villages littering the biggest mountain range in Panem like sprinkles atop a cupcake, District Two gets substantial snowfall. The kind of snow that allows an extra industry for capitol elites to come and pretend to live like a district citizen in a heated, maintained cabin on the mountainsides, where people can party and celebrate the simplicity of a winter snow in the way that only someone who doesn’t have to worry about keeping heat on can do.

 If you were a child in the district without the commitment (Privilege? Curse?) of training, you could celebrate heavy snowfall with snowball fights followed by hot chocolate with your friends in one of your living rooms. If you were a trainee, a possible tribute, snow meant drills in the cold, running despite snow reaching your knees, agility trials on ice. If you were a trainee with just enough of a rebellious streak, snowfall meant you snuck out with the other kids in your class and rode makeshift sleds down the hills otherwise used for terrain testing. And if you were a trainee that got caught, snow meant laying on your back in a bank of it, in shorts and t-shirts, until your skin burned and your body ached. If you were the right kind of District Two training kid- the punishment was worth the glimmer of childhood you got to experience. 

The snow was not even the worst part– District Two was extremely cold. Not the type of cold where the cute jackets and scarves produced in District Eight would be sufficient, but the type of bone chilling cold that it was a miracle the majority of the population did not freeze to death by the end of a particularly bad winter. The academy just factored the weather into training– figuring out ways to layer, to stay warm, how to get rest in these types of conditions, and how to keep at peak performance despite below freezing temperatures. The embarrassment of a tribute losing because they lost grip on a weapon (“because of the weather” is an unacceptable excuse), is deeply ingrained in any child who has gone through training in District Two. They considered it to be a privilege to train in such harsh conditions, a leg up on competitors of how to deal with what could be thrown on them in the arena. Weather was not an excuse for failure.

Clove, of course, knows these things. Years later she can handle Brutus’s remarks about her clumsy frozen fingers almost ending her life, but at the time it was an insecurity that was fortunately never addressed due to the scandal of her long-term hidden relationship and accompanying secrets coming to the surface. 

Despite her games being a literal arctic blizzard, the snow and the cold had not bothered Clove in the immediate after her games. Sure, there were times where if she closed her eyes long enough on her porch that it felt like she was back in the arena for the briefest of seconds. However the heat of adrenaline that rushed to her chest brought her right back, and when her eyes would fly open and land on her Victor’s Village yard she’d be snapped back into her new reality. A reality of survival and victory.

She was even somewhat fond of the snow, with the recollections of childhood, of times her and Cato had snuck out back in the dead of night to “practice” in the wintry conditions. 

“If it weren’t for your hair you’d blend right in.” Cato teased, but his hands slipping under her arms and knees revealed that he meant business. He tossed her, as hard as he possibly could, into an adjacent snow bank, where her tiny teenage body did indeed slip under the entirety of the pile. The fifteen year old girl would have in fact blended in if not for the deep espresso color of her hair. And the constellation of freckles all over her skin. And the deep evergreen color of her eyes. None of which, Cato knew, were normal details to notice about one’s training partner. 

The brief distraction would always be enough for Clove to grab him around the ankle, pull his feet out from under him, and bring him tumbling down right into the snow beside her. 

They’d always sneak back in with icicles in their hair, water dripping off their clothes as the snow melted away, and a redness that danced across both of their noses and cheeks. Sometimes the only thing that could properly warm them up after was sharing the same dorm room bed, with snide remarks from Clove about how he may as well be a human heater. While those remarks may be snide, they were never a complaint that is. 

It wasn’t snow after her games that bothered her, and truthfully, last winter hadn’t even been too terrible. Maybe somewhere, some cosmic control of the universe decided the people of District Two (realistically, the people of all of Panem) had suffered enough the previous year during the war. A couple of inches here or there, temperatures that dropped but never quite hit that bone chilling type of cold they were so familiar with. It was cold but not cruelly so, and that was nothing short of a miracle considering how many District Two citizens were displaced and without housing as a result of the rebels’ bombing. Those signature temperature dip and the blizzards would have been catastrophic to a district that was already facing such immense population loss. 

Now, over a year and a half since the conclusion of the war, brutal weather was back to strike their home with a bite. 

Multiple feet of snow combined with temperatures plummeting to near zero, both confirmed what Clove knew was coming: Winter in District Two was back with a vengeance. 

While Cato had been thrilled to have a classic District Two winter; to take his little sister sled riding, to introduce her to hot chocolate and the power of a hot bowl of soup at the end of a day in the cold (courtesy, of course, of Clove), Clove had truthfully been dreading the impending storm. 

The cold, quite frankly, hurt. 

It did not hurt from the biting sting of cold wind against flesh or because of tingling fingers and ears from too long outside; no, it hurt deep in her body, in every single movement of her joints. It hurt like her skeleton was crackling, like the marrow inside her bones itself was forming ice crystals that shattered with her movement. It wasn’t just the flexion of her fingers and shoulders that hurt at this point. It hurts to exist. It felt like her ribs were cracking with the expansion of her lungs. With every step, a dull pain inside of her hip sockets begged her to stop moving and just rest. She hadn’t been prepared for every joint that had been dislocated and every healed fracture to remind her that she was never truly going to be able to heal from what Snow had done to her. 

Clove, for the first time, understood what they meant when they called it bone cold. And holy shit did it hurt. 

She tried the rational and logical ways to warm up. She tried a shower with water so hot it should have blistered her skin off, but only slightly brought her down from the feeling of ice in her veins. She layered on two, three of Cato’s already oversized sweatshirts, swimming in layers of clothes that made her look like a child playing dress up without any warmth radiating deeper than her skin. She had laid in bed, weighed down by a comforter plus another ten pounds of throw blankets, that didn't even touch the ache inside her. 

All this is to say that Clove tried a lot before her desperation for any comfort resulted in her current position. On the floor…in front of the fireplace… both on top of and underneath the same ten plus pounds of blankets she had dragged downstairs with her. Even this, the combination of blankets, heat, and Cato’s clothes were only enough to slightly tamper down the ache. 

Still, it was apparently just enough for her to fall asleep that way, because the next thing Clove knows, she’s being gently shaken awake with a foot on her shoulder hearing the panicked whispers of “Babe….babe…Clove..babe…Clove..are you alive?” That can only possibly come from Cato, who is insistently shaking her awake. “Clove?”

“Hmmm?” Clove murmurs, peaking one eye open to glance up at the man oh so kindly waking her. He stands over her, flecks of snow melting on the tips of his hair, cold water running off the black waterproof fabric of his coat and onto her face all the way down where she lays under him. “Move back, you’re making me colder.”

“Are you okay?” He nudges her again, but kneels down to closer to the same height as her. He reaches out with an ungloved hand, and the second his icy fingers touch her face Clove recoils into her blanket shell. From this height Clove can see the redness along his cheeks and over his nose that makes him look closer to twelve than twenty three. “Why are you on the floor?”

“I’m cold Cato, and it really fucking hurts.” She whines, tucking her hands into the blankets with her. “I can’t get warm.”

“Right..okay…did you try the bed–”

“Do you think I laid on our living room floor without trying the bed first?”

“Okay, what about those really hot baths you like, I can take you-”

“Cato. I tried it. This is all that helps.” Clove whimpers, rolling from her back onto her side, facing the blaze in the fireplace. 

“I’ll be back just… Give me like..fifteen minutes.” Cato stands, and is already taking long strides upstairs before Clove even gets a moment to ask where he’s going. 

She lays there for what feels like years in the glow of the fireplace, in the warmth it irradiates and the minimal relief it provides. She feels the presence of him behind her, the light tugging of her blankets, before she sees him. 

“Don’t unwrap me, Cato, I’m warm-”  Clove protests, but when she feels large, warm hands sliding under her layers and practically wrapping around her torso she melts. “You’re warm, oh my god.” 

She doesn’t see him smirk, but knows him well enough to know he is, before he twists her to face him with the easiest twist of his wrists. He flashes her a grin, before pulling her flush against his bare, warm chest. Clove notices, absently, the way his wet hair falls just over his forehead how it did only in the immediate time after he showered until it dried.

“I’d prefer hot but I'll take it.” Cato taunts lightly as Clove buries her cheek against his chest, right over where his heart. “Comfy?” He teases, and a furrowed brow and a single narrowed green eye looks up at him in protest.

“Very.” Clove sighs, curling into him as his hands travel along the skin of her back and bringing heat with them. “You’re like a personal heater.”

“You could have called me, Clove…” Cato reminds her, tucking one leg over both of hers, using as much surface area contact as he could to bring her relief. “I would have come home.”

“You were with your sister, I wasn’t going to interrupt.” She doesn’t mention the embarrassment, the humiliation even, that she felt at the newest physical reminder of her time in the Capitol. A girl who used to love the snow, who loved the cold, now in pain greater than she’d ever admit to her husband. There were some things she didn’t even want him to know– her reduced pain tolerance, being one of them.“How did she like it?”

“She loved it!” Cato lights up, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes as he recounts his afternoon playing with his little sister. “Mom about killed me when she found out I was letting her go down the hill alone, but she had fun. No bones were broken.” 

“Mmm, remember that time we found a trash can lid, and I sat on your lap as we went down that big hill behind the training center in the middle of the night?” Clove muses, freeing her hands from her blankety protection and tucking them against his abs. She holds back a giggle at the way he flinches away from her cold touch, his muscle flexing under her fingertips. 

“You mean when we slammed into the brick wall and thought you broke your nose? And the giant bruise on my forehead that looked like you decked me with the handle of your knife?” Cato muses, wrapping Clove even tighter in his grasp, smiling to himself when he realizes that all the layers she used to try to insulate herself are his.  “Of course I remember.”

“Your entire body weight landed on me and crushed me into the wall, yeah, I thought I was broken.”  She wants to lift her head to scowl at him, but she is simply too warm, too comfortable, too safe right now to care. “You were giant, then, too.”

“We’re just lucky it was Brutus that punished us, not Enobaria.” There is a fond smile on his face as he thinks back to what cannot even be considered a simpler time –surely, laying on the living room floor with his wife, no games in sight, was far simpler than being fourteen and grasping for a glimpse of childhood– but certainly a nostalgic memory. 

“Lucky? He made us run four miles barefoot, Cato. I would have taken whatever Enobaria was going to throw at us.” Clove tucked her icy feet against his for emphasis, and Cato actually flinched out of the way that time. “See? You still don’t like cold feet.”

“Speaking of Enobaria…doesn’t she have that hot tub, why didn’t you go over? She’s in One isn’t she? You would have had it to yourself…” One would have thought, twenty months into sharing custody of Enobaria with Cashmere and District One, they’d have gotten used to her schedule, used to her not always being readily available at their beck and call.  

So many things had kept Enobaria in District Two, of course, in the past thirty some years of her life. Be it the limitations of interdistrict travel, the secret nature of her relationship with Cashmere (who had her own limitations, of course, considering the extent of the Capitol’s influence and abuse on her for over a decade), her commitments to her district and training, or maybe even Clove. Many reasons had existed to keep the Victor woman home, and now in the dawn of a new country, Enobaria had taken her well deserved freedoms. 

Of course, that did not mean that they could keep track of her. 

Some may go as far to say that Clove, Cato, and even Brutus, missed her sometimes. 

Not that a single one of them would ever utter those words to her.

“I thought about it.” Clove sighs, turning her face to press the other cheek against his skin, equally warming her face. “But they’re actually here, I guess they’re here for a while…until Glimmer has the baby. Cash wants to stay in One for a few extra months straight after, I guess, so they’re making up time here for now. And I did not want to interrupt something over there again, especially not in the hot tub…” She shutters, not from the cold this time but from a distasteful memory that she clearly has brought to the surface. “Besides…I didn’t really want to go outside.”

“It’s kind of funny that Enobaria and Cashmere act like kids with divorced parents…back and forth back and forth to split their time evenly. Why don’t they just stay here?” Cato raises an eyebrow, a coy smile on his face. “District Two is obviously the better option.”

“Cashmere can’t leave her brother and sister, you know that. And she’s definitely not leaving now that Glimmer’s gonna have a whole kid soon.” Not just a kid, a little girl, a fact that Clove had to hear from Glimmer multiple times a day. “It would arguably make more sense for her to move to One if we’re suggesting permanent moving..and you know she isn’t going to leave here.”

“Enobaria would never survive with a neighbor named Rhinestone.” 

Clove’s laugh is muffled against his chest, but he’s right. Splitting their time, like kids traveling between homes on holidays, was going to be their best bet. It didn’t make it any less funny, to imagine the mentor they all know and love spending half her time there.

Her laugh fades as her smile falls, and Clove can’t bring herself to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry I have to lay on the floor like this, I know it isn’t comfortable.”

“Clove..”

“I’m serious. This is just another new weakness, I guess. Just another thing Snow took from me.”

Cato’s hand slips off the skin of her back and Clove bites back a groan at the loss of warmth, before his hand holds the exposed side of her face. He doesn’t force her to look at him, simply strumming his thumb along her cheekbone. “Clove? I will bring the mattress down here, and we can sleep in front of this fireplace for the rest of Winter, hell, for the rest of our lives if it makes you feel even the slightest bit better. You aren’t weak, babe. I don’t even know if I could have survived what you did. You were tortured. And if this is how winter is going to go, this is how we’re going to survive it. Together.”

The composure she had tried so hard to maintain crumbles like the facade it is, and the gasping breath she takes startles Cato to the point that he has to look down at her.

“It hurts to breathe, Cato. My lungs hurt and my ribs hurt and it hurts to move and it hurts to bend my fingers. It’s like I'm frozen inside and it hurts.” Clove gasps out, burying her face firmly in the center of his chest. “I didn’t think i’d be in this much pain because of some fucking weather.”

Hurt. Pain. Neither words that Clove would ever admit to, not to anyone else in the world. To anyone but Cato, they made her a target, they made her vulnerable, and they made her weak. 

“I know, Clove. I know.” He admits, bringing his hand back down to her side, warming her up from the inside of her shirts. “I wish I could take it for you.”

I wish I could take it for you. 

What a gesture that is, in District Two, where pain makes you weak and vulnerable. To be willing to carry that burden, to take on that proverbial target. Only among District Two, would the admission of pain and the subsequent willingness to take it be such a marker of love. 

“I just feel like someone could take me out so easily and i’m so useless right now and-” 

“Noone’s coming after us. Noone’s going to take us out. And if they were, I think I’ve got it covered. I’m a Victor, too, you know.” Cato promises, bringing his lips down to kiss the top of her head, where she is nearly trying to burrow into his skin for the warmth he so readily provides. “I’ve got us, Clove. Pretend it’s my turn to keep watch in the games, okay? Sleep…relax..I’ve got us.”

“Am I gonna get a turn?” Clove nearly teases, and he can feel her lips quirking into a smile against his skin. 

He snorts, and somehow manages to pull her closer. “Once a snowman isn’t your biggest opponent, sure.” 

The pinch he feels on his side is enough for him to know that she was going to be just fine. 

#clato #cato and clove #arwbfb au #arwbfb tag #always remember we're burned for better tag #clato fanfic #the hunger games fanfic #clato fanfiction #clato tag #clove tag #cato tag #cashmere and enobaria #cashbaria tag #arwbfb sequel #pfsk tag #picket fences sharp as knives tag

[themattress]

How Toriyama/Toyotaro salvaged "End of Z"

Let me start this post with a personal confession that may or may not be unpopular: I have very little interest in Dragon Ball DAIMA. I have slightly more than I used to after Akira Toriyama's death since I am naturally curious to see what the last Dragon Ball related material he ever produced is like, but otherwise it still looks like just a different take on Dragon Ball GT, my least favorite Dragon Ball series, except that more characters than just Goku turn young and it's the Demon Realm that's being explored instead of space. It also doesn't help that the head writer, Yuko Kakihara, makes me nervous - she's done fine work as an episodic script writer on anime such as Fresh Pretty Cure, My Bride is a Mermaid, and Pokémon Journeys, and she was fantastic as the head writer of IRODUKU: The World in Color. But in terms of shows closer to what Dragon Ball DAIMA seems like, she was head writer on that god-awful Stitch anime that Disney stupidly allowed to be made. Worse still, she was the writer of Digimon Adventure Tri. So you can understand why I have reservations.

Point is, I consider Dragon Ball DAIMA to be a sideshow, regardless of what its merits may end up being. For me personally, it's the manga/anime trilogy of Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z and Dragon Ball Super that really counts the most. And as tragic as the circumstances behind the end of Toriyama's involvement on the latter are, I am highly impressed what he and his mangaka protégée Toyotaro were able to accomplish. With three major steps, they have substantially retconned the notoriously underwhelming ending of the original manga series and DBZ anime, known as "End of Z" among fans, in a way that makes a satisfying closure.

The first step was way back in Dragon Ball Online. Toriyama was involved back then in canonically mapping out the future of the Dragon Ball world, long after Goku, his friends and his family have passed away. And a major part of that was how Gohan, Goten, Trunks and Pan affected that world for the better in their adult lives. Gohan in particular has a masterful end to his long struggle between being a fighter and being a scholar by becoming a scholar on ki fighting techniques, publishing a study that makes it widely possible for humans around the world to master ki control and gain flight and energy blasts. It's a perfect outcome for him.

The second step was through Toriyama's involvement in the new movies and Super series. End of Z now cannot happen the way it was presented in the original manga and anime. There are way too many discrepancies, from character appearances, the lack of certain characters who it would make little sense not to be there, and details like "none of Goku's friends saw him for 5 years before then" which have now been completely contradicted. Obviously the 28th Budokai where Goku meets Uub and takes him under his wing for training is still canon, but that event is now free to transpire in a far more plausible and satisfactory way than the famously rushed, haphazard and OOC way in which it was depicted before.

The third and final step was the last collaboration between Toriyama and Toyotaro in the Super manga. The final three chapters they worked on together were an epilogue to the story of the Super Hero film, actually tying its plot together with the side plot featuring Goku and Vegeta on Beerus' planet. Perhaps responding to prevalent criticisms, the movie had already made a major point of showing how the world can still be successfully defended by the Z Fighters even without Goku and Vegeta being there. And in these three chapters, the point is carried even further by having Goku test what the new generation is capable of, a theme that's even reflected in the final chapter's title, "Passing On To The Future". This completely recontextualizes End of Z. Originally made as a laughable attempt to salvage the "Goku passing the torch" direction with Uub in place of Gohan after Toriyama botched it so badly with him, now it makes Uub only the latest in a large field of fighters that includes Gohan. Now it's Gohan, Goten, Trunks, Pan, even Broly of all people, who are being gathered as Earth's next line of defense once Goku and Vegeta finally expire. Uub will join that group. (Oh, and being Namekian, both Piccolo and Dende will still be around to assist, of course.)

So while the narrative of Dragon Ball may have peaked with the Cell Saga, now the Majin Buu Saga -> Battle of Gods Saga -> Resurrection F Saga -> Universe 6 Saga -> Future Trunks / Goku Black Saga -> Universe Survival Saga -> Broly Saga -> Galactic Patrol Prisoner Saga -> Granolah the Survivor Saga -> Super Hero Saga -> End of Z together create a worthier follow-up than just the Majin Buu Saga -> End of Z was back in the day. Certainly not perfect, even when leaving the loose ends out of it (so Freeza's just gonna stay loose out there with a new ultimate form?), but feeling much closer to a fully realized ending.

Thank you, Toriyama. You made it up as you went along right to the very end, but as usual, your remarkable creative talent managed to make it all fit together. You are deeply missed.

#Dragon Ball #Dragon Ball Z #Dragon Ball Super #Akira Toriyama #Ending #Finale #Analysis

[mermaidxatxheart]

Better Together Epilogue

Hey, everyone. This is the final chapter of this story. Thank you to everyone who's been reading right along.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 1682

Warnings: Poe. That's it. He's the whole warning.

A/N: I'm going to be redoing my master lists. If you want to be added or removed from my list please either send me a message or comment.

Series Master List

Previous Part

Poe stops at the market stall, looking over the ripe fruit. He has to be particular, find just the right ones. It looks like it’s going to rain soon and he really doesn’t want to be sent back out because he got the wrong things. 

“Again?” The stall owner asks, looking over the rims of his glasses at him. 

“I blame you. This is your fault.” Poe points. 

“I can’t help it. It’s a special secret.” He grins. He ducks down and comes up with a basket of the perfect fruits. “I had a feeling she’d want more.” 

“You’re a lifesaver.” Poe says, paying him for the produce and heading for the end of the street. He’s about to leave, to head to his brand new home that he shares with you when something bright and colorful catches his eye. 

***

A disassembled piece of furniture lays in pieces around you on the floor, the instructions in a language you’ve never even seen before. The diagrams aren’t even helpful. 

Your eyebrows pinch in frustration. You wanted to have this done before Poe got home, to surprise him. But with the way it’s going now, which is to say nowhere, that won’t happen. 

You pick up two of the long pieces and can’t possibly imagine how they might go together. 

You need a snack. 

Pushing yourself up off the floor, you head for the kitchen. Boxes of brand new dishes and glasses cover the counters and tables. So much left to unpack. It doesn’t feel real. 

The First Order is gone, for good this time. Poe is safe and here with you. You’re in your home. Not some bunker on a base, but a home with his dad nearby, and your friends close. It’s been a long year, setting up the new republic, getting this corner of the galaxy back in order. But finally, you can have Poe all to yourself. Until his boyfriend comes knocking, wanting to know if he can come out to play.

You open the box of cupcakes and inhale the wonderful scent of chocolate and frosting. Standing in front of the sink, you carefully peel the wrapper off and break off the bottom of the cake. You press it down into the frosting, licking any that starts to drip out. The sugary sweet chocolate coats your tongue and you hum in approval, taking a bite. Careful to get the crumbs in the sink this time, you try not to inhale it again. Poe yelled at you the last time he caught you sneaking a cupcake like this. 

Crumbs everywhere, and you’re gonna choke. Who taught you how to eat?

Just as you’re pushing the last bite into your mouth, the door opens. Crap. You can’t chew fast enough to hide the evidence, he’s going to catch you. 

You sweep the wrapper into the sink and pretend to just be looking out the window, surreptitiously trying to chew. You can hear him set his things down on the table and make his way over to you, but you don’t dare look. 

You can feel him behind you, his chest presses against your back and he holds up something bright in front of you. A beautiful bouquet of bright flowers, pinks and blues and oranges in a riotous array. 

You cover your mouth with one hand, trying desperately to swallow the suddenly dry cake, while taking the stunning bouquet with your other hand. 

“I missed you.” He murmurs, wrapping his arms around you, his hands cradling your belly bump. His lips press against your neck, up your jaw before he pauses. “Not gonna say it back?” He asks.

Shit. No hiding it now. “I mithed you, too.” You mumble, keeping your mouth covered. 

“Y/N, you are unbelievable.” He sighs, pulling away and turning you around to face him. You finish chewing now that the damage has been done. He’s furiously trying to keep his lips from tugging up at the corners. “You’re going to make yourself choke!”

“The baby wanted it!” You rush, a few crumbs flying at him. 

He lowers his eyes to where they fall at his feet and then back up to you. “So, you’re gonna blame this bad behavior on our baby?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Yup. Did you bring home any more fruit?” You ask, trying to sidestep him. 

“If I say yes, are you gonna inhale it?”

“Maybe, but I rather think that’s my business.” You pat his cheek and he captures your hand. 

“Was that the last cupcake?” 

“No. But I’m claiming the others.” You say, dropping your hand to your belly. 

“Oh, for crying-… fine.” 

You kiss him softly before going to see what fruit he brought you. “I love you.” You tell him as he turns towards the rest of the house. 

“I love you, too. Menace.” He shakes his head, pausing in front of the room you had left. “Babe!” He sighs. 

“I was trying to surprise you. Don’t worry, I didn’t actually get anything done on it.” There’s a knock on the door and you glance up. “Good news is, Finn’s here to help you figure it out.” You call as his best friend walks in. 

“Hey, Y/N.” Finn grins, giving you a hug. 

“Hey. Did you bring Rey? Or are you just here by yourself to see your boyfriend?”

“She’s outside. She’ll be in in a minute.” He says, stepping around you and heading for the nursery. You follow him, resting a hand on his broad shoulders. 

“So, you boys can get this done by tonight, right?” You ask as Poe picks up one side of the crib. 

He stares at you before rolling his eyes. “You’re awfully demanding. Claiming all the cupcakes and everything.”

“I’ll make you both dinner.” You promise.

Poe opens his mouth to protest, but Finn cuts him off. “Deal.” 

You turn away and go outside to find Rey. She’s looking up at the sky, her hazel eyes distant and unfocused. She’s been through a lot, and now she carries the memory of countless Jedi before her. Sometimes she can hear them whispering and she gets that far off look. 

You touch her shoulder gently and she turns with a start, blinking at you. “Y/N! Look at you! Oh wow. I can’t believe you let him get what he wants.” She laughs, placing a hand on your belly. 

“He’s pretty persuasive.” You laugh, moving her hand around to where the baby is pushing. 

“Oh wow.” She repeats, her eyes trained on the spot. “I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long.” She mutters, dropping her hand. 

“Rey, none of us blame you. We know shit’s been hard. That’s the best part about friendship, when you need us, we’ll be here for you. Always.” You cup her cheek affectionately and she smiles sadly. 

“Thanks, Y/N.” 

“Come on. I promised the boys dinner. I think we can eat under the canopy while it rains.” 

“Alright.” She agrees, following you back inside, one last glance over her shoulder. 

***

The thunder rages on while the four of you eat. BB8 is tucked under your chair, his place permanently by your side since you found out you were pregnant. He’s almost as obsessed as Poe is. 

You push your plate back, stuffed. You should have stopped before this. But it was just so good. You drop your head back and stare up at the ceiling of the wide canopy. 

“Y/N, that was delicious.” Finn says, finishing his spotchka.

“Thank you. I don’t have dessert, but I do have caf.” You offer and Finn shakes his head. 

“Maybe in a bit. I couldn’t fit another thing in here.” He pats his stomach and slouches back in his chair. 

Poe, unable to stop himself, reaches for your hand. You smile to yourself, flattening his palm against your belly where you feel the baby the most. Any chance he gets, he’s touching your belly.

“Where did you find this recipe?” Rey asks, glancing at you. 

“Poe’s dad. He gave it to me a couple days ago and I’ve been meaning to try it.” You shrug, stretching your feet up onto the bar under the middle of the table. 

You drift out of focus in the food coma haze as Poe and Finn start discussing additions Poe wants to make to the house. The baby stretches, pushing against Poe’s palm. 

After a little bit, Rey and Finn stand up, grabbing the plates. You start to stand up but Finn shakes his head.

“We got this, Y/N. Relax.” He says with a soft wink, carrying the remains of dinner inside. 

Poe leans over, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re beautiful.” He whispers and you roll your eyes. 

“I bet you say that to all your wives.” 

“Oh, no, I was talking to the baby.” He says, pointing to your belly. 

You laugh, covering his mouth. “I can’t stand you.”

“But I guess you, too.” He shrugs, brushing hair back off your shoulder. “You feeling okay? You didn’t do too much today, right?” He dips his head, pressing kisses to your belly. 

“I’m fine. Just over full.” You play with his dark curls. You hope the baby gets his hair. And his big heart, and chocolate eyes. Really, you wouldn’t say no to a mini-Poe Dameron. 

“We got the crib done.” He says softly. “How many babies do you think we can fit in this house?” He asks, perking his head up. 

You laugh. “I guess we’ll just have to find out.”

“Yes!” He hisses quietly. 

You glance to the doorway to see Rey watching you with a soft smile on her face. Finn drops an arm around her shoulders and tugs her against his side, whispering something in her ear. 

Everything is working out just as it should. Friends and family surrounding you more than they ever have. You wouldn’t trade these people for anything. 

And Poe. 

You’ll stay by his side forever. If this war and your trials have taught you anything, it’s that you’re better together.

The End.

Star Wars Master List

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