#/might/ have to write something at some point...maybe...
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agentnoun · 2 days ago
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I had another reblog of this where I was kinda flippant, but I thought it might be fun to actually write down what I think about this sort of faux-archaic writing and how I think it can be effectively used.
quick note about my own biases here: I think there exist no hard and fast rules for writing. everything is contextual. anything that could be Bad Writing in one context can be Good Writing in another--even if that Bad Writing is bad in 99 out of 100 situations, there's still that 1, and sometimes taking formal or tonal risks can give your work a really distinct identity (and sometimes it falls apart entirely but that's why it's a risk!).
so let's say you really like when language Goes Hard like this and you want to know how to make it work. here are some questions you can ask yourself to get a general idea. you still won't actually know until you try it and maybe until you get some feedback from readers/editors, but this can get you started.
let's use this monologue from Final Fantasy XII as an example:
youtube
does it fit in your world at all? does it make sense for anyone in your world to use language this way? would anyone deliver a monologue like this, or write something like this? there can be multiple reasons it would make sense. for example, maybe the whole work has this sort of heightened tone and isn't going for realism (this is the version that's really tough to pull off). or maybe this type of language makes sense for certain people in the world. this is the case for FFXII above: aristocratic characters, especially those from the Archadian Empire, often use this "elevated" pseudo-archaic speech, so by the time you reach this scene, this kind of language doesn't come out of nowhere. (you also see similar language from non-Archadian aristocratic sources, such as Marquis Ondore's memoir that serves as occasional narration.)
does it make sense for this specific character to speak this way? we sort of covered this in the above bullet. for Judge Bergan, a high-ranking member of an elite group whose very word is law in Archadian society, it definitely does, but if, say, Vaan or Penelo started to bust out a monologue like this, it would be jarring (in a way that would be funny but also wreck the tone). the more colloquial, modern mode used by the commoner characters, or those who have abandoned their aristocratic origins (like Balthier), fits those characters better than the faux-archaic language used by the Judge Magisters.
does it fit the scene? in the scene above, Bergan is trying to intimidate the heroes while proclaiming his liege's right to rule. he is also, crucially, fucking losing his shit due to having mind-altering magic stones bound to his skeleton. so yeah, I'd say an over-the-top monologue makes perfect sense here. but on top of that, it's a dramatic scene that comes after a tense walk through a ruined refugee camp, an exclamation point punctuating a demonstration of Archadian brutality. Bergan speaking this way makes sense in this context, but it might not in others. if he went on like this to some random guy on the street in the middle of the day it would again risk crossing over into the comical.
and here's the big one: does it even make sense? like, the actual words? one of the biggest problems with this elevated prose that tries to Go Hard is that, well, a lot of modern writers don't actually know how this kind of grammar works, or how to use the archaic words that sound really cool. for my fellow Ivalice fans, this is sort of my problem with the FFT War of the Lions translation--I think it's less successful at using this type of archaic, elevated prose than Alexander O. Smith's work in games like Vagrant Story and FFXII. Smith understands English grammar, both contemporary and archaic, well enough that he can play with it and bend it to create monologues like this one. even if it would be reasonable for language like this to be used in a work, all of that falls apart if the actual sentences are confusing or outright nonsense. another way to say this is that you should make sure to understand the grammar you're bending before you bend it.
(also a note on the last bullet: Final Fantasy XII's original Japanese script is not faux-archaic like this. it's something that Smith and the rest of the FFXII English localization team added, and that Yasumi Matsuno, the game's original director, likes quite a bit. if you're wondering why I credited Smith with this type of prose here and not the original Japanese writers, that's why.)
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ao3commentoftheday · 20 hours ago
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hello! i'm not sure if this is entirely the right place, but do you have any tips for getting back into writing? because of real life stuff i haven't been able to write for months, and now that i have the time i just have... no idea where to begin
Oh man, I know that feeling. There's nothing quite like feeling "rusty" to make something seem almost impossible to do.
There are a couple of approaches to take (and I'm sure folks can suggest even more in the notes), and I'll start with the most common suggestion:
Start small. If it's been a while, you might not want to start with a huge fic. Knock out a oneshot, maybe even just do some free writing sprints, just to get into the habit of writing again.
Find your writing space. Relearn what position you like to sit in, whether you prefer to type on a keyboard or tap on your phone. Figure out whether you want a playlist going and what songs you want to include on it.
Don't begin with the intention to post. Start with the goal of writing not with the goal of having written. Write something that you are utterly enraptured by, something that absolutely tickles you in whatever way you want to be tickled. Connect to your id or to your inner child or to whatever part of you really wants to come out and play, and let that part of you loose onto the page.
Which leads me to my last point
Find a story that you can't stop thinking about writing. It doesn't have to be huge. It could even just be a single moment or scene. But if you can feel that inspiration hit you and experience that drive to capture that inspiration in words, that feeling can go a long way to getting you back into writing again.
Inspiration can come from other people, from music or art, from prompt memes or challenges, from the daydreams you drift off into when you're zoning out on the bus. Personally, I have a lot of success with just thinking of a joke that makes me giggle hysterically, and then I write 500 words that gets me to the punchline I want to hit, and I'm done.
What about the rest of you? Where do you pick up writing when you haven't done it for a while? How do you get started again after a break?
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the-ruby-enchanter · 2 days ago
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Is Varian Truly Loyal to Tarquin?
I was always a bit sus of Varian and never quite liked him, there was just something off that I couldn’t explain. Then, while I was talking to a friend about it, she pointed out a detail I had completely missed… and suddenly, everything started falling into place.
While reading ACOSF, I kept feeling… weird about Varian. Specifically, the part where he knows that the Night Court possesses the Dead Trove and keeps that information from Tarquin. This isn’t just a minor omission, it’s a huge piece of magical power and political leverage. And Varian is not just some courtier; he’s the Prince of Adriata, Tarquin’s cousin, and next in line to rule the Summer Court.
At first, I thought maybe it was just sloppy writing or brushed aside for convenience. But then, after that friend reminded me of something from ACOWAR, I went back and re-read the High Lords meeting chapters to find it, and now I can’t unsee it.
Tamlin literally hints at Varian being untrustworthy. In the meeting scene, Tamlin throws shade at the Night Court questioning why they were the only ones to know about the attack on Adriata and implying they wanted to play savior. Then comes this
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Now, say what you want about Tamlin, but he wasn’t pulling that accusation out of nowhere. It reads like a direct warning: your cousin might not be as loyal as you think.
(let's not forget that he warned that rhysand migh be playing to be a high king and we all know what is hapening in acosf)
Add to that the fact that:
Varian didn't tell Tarquin about the Night Court having the Trove in ACOSF
The Night Court is allied with Eris and knows about beron and his treachery. Again varian didn't tell Tarquin about that.
Varian is emotionally involved with Amren, who is deeply loyal to Rhysand.
It makes you wonder… is Varian genuinely loyal to Tarquin? Or is he keeping one foot in the Night Court, politically or emotionally, just in case?
I’m not saying Varian is evil or scheming -oh no I am saying- and I do think his loyalty is questionbal, and maybe we’re meant to question it a bit more than we have.
because he's next in line after all.
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avaredava · 2 days ago
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"Wish we never met, Mr. Nanami Kento."
☆*:..。. .。.:*☆
Master list's
Part one | Part two
(read part one first to have it make sense)
⯌Sum
Trophy wife, is basically no life. Sometimes you wish for the way Nanami fell in love with you stayed that way. Or maybe just never met him at all.
⯌ Wc
4.2k
⯌ Warnings
a lot of angst, comfort for reader YAY, reader lowkey is a total baddie in the end, other stuff but i don't wanna spoil what happens to much lollll, some suggestive with gojo, GOJO Y'ALL GOJO, gojo and reader get into a established relationship towards the end, nanami hits reader and hurts her a bunch of times, VIOLENCE GUYS, i love my king nanami but in this WE HATE HIM IN THIS, not gonna spoil more guys... slow burn kinda
a/n: when i was writing nanami in this i thought of trump ya'll... also i might be combining part one and two, if you want that just comment.
☆*:..。. .。.:*☆
Why? Why the ever living shit did this happen. He played you like a puppet.
Like a nobody.
Like a piece of meat.
At this point you were a pitiful piece of flesh. Flesh, not a person. Absolutely pathetic. Nothing more than a trophy, a thing to be held in a case, never being allowed to be let out. Never breaking free.
For pictures, for representation of a happy marriage in a political view.
Something to be used to be a hue of arranged colours is now a tang in the mud. Nothing. Something that deserves to be ground up into nothing and not built back up. To stay buried in your head, in a deep crumpled despair in your head. Head aches and a creature meant to be despondent.
To be around everyone but to be alone in your own head. Being confined in your own mind. Being forced to smile or laugh for the cameras but pray that no one knows how much you weep and cry at home.
Behind walls ripping your heart out, reading about happy marriages then looking at people wanting your place. To be with him. To be with the man who doesn't want to be with you but needs you for your own benefit. The woman in this equation is nothing. You made love to him.
You lost your virginity to him because you loved him. The intimate moments the two of you bring back good memories then remind you that it would never happen again.
Maybe you wanted it again, but maybe you didn't. The way he broke your heart was unforgivable but you still loved him so much. The way he used to smile at you and hold you close on cold nights. Acting like you were the only girl in the world. Emphasis on act.
But the act stole your heart. Made you want it again. Made you crave it.
Made you want him in your arms, like it used to be. Kiss him on his lips in the warm sheets, of the night before still lingering in the air. The warmth of his chest makes it all better, the intimacy.
You want it but you absolutely fucking hate it.
You want it but you know you don't.
You decided to hop in the shower, scrubbing your body but it reminded you of how Nanami used to caress your body in the shower, making you clean from his clean hands. You never knew they were dirty.
You never knew they had blood on his hands, wrapped in silk but are gross and cruel. Silk that rubbed your face when sad but then helped someone else.
Gentle kisses and that were on someone else's body mere hours from when it happened to you. Used, discarded that's all you were. No meaning in this world other than to be smiling for cameras and to give an heir.
You didn't want to give and heir. You didn't want to see his fucking dick, you didn't want him at all. You want the old him. The one who loved you.
You decided to make tea to bring it to him. Maybe he would be nicer this week instead of fully ignoring you unless during meetings and conferences acting like nothing happening, holding your hand and kissing your cheek, like he wasnt with another woman a few hours ago.
Holding her the same way, even if it was just for sex. It still hurts in its own singular way that you can't explain. It's more the manipulation that hurts.
You were his wife yet you were the other woman.
You were supposed to be there for him for public finances and to bear an heir. Even though you don't even want to have sex with him, sex is for love and commitment, and passion for one another.
You don't even want kids.
Today you were sitting at a meeting on his right hand side chiming in with a "yeah" or a nod every once and a while like instructed by his lawyer. So you did so. Listen to every command, while Nanami was yelling his head off at the opposing companies head, Satoru Gojo, who was perfectly calm.
You couldn't smile or laugh at the gentle composed face of the man across from you who was trying to laugh at your husbands annoying antics. It was funny watching the man Nanami complained about through out your marriage be not that bad.
Nanami used to come home to see you on the couch and plop beside you grumbling about how much he hates a guy named Satoru Gojo because he took his employees.
You hated Satoru as well from what Nanami was saying but you understand why his employees left. He sucked, while Satoru Gojo was mature, maybe a goof but he could run a company without any flaws.
And Nanami was a dick, constantly lowering wages when things got rough because he scared off the investors from being too rude. God he was a narcissist, he thought there was nothing wrong with it.
You loved him, in his own cruel world he loved you too. That's what he tells you, or what you think. You don't know if he ever loved you in the first place. He didn't understand how much this affects you, your life. He just cared about himself in his own mental weird way.
You smile at Satoru after being in your short thinking trance for a second, him smiling back as Nanami slaps your thigh under the table, making the employee beside him almost say something but Nanami gave him a gross look then he stayed quiet.
You tried not to cry because it hurt, you looked down at your lower thigh where he hit below the edge of the dress, it was red and turning a little purple. Satoru instantly stopped when he saw your eyes tear up. He went back to talking about the payments going through the system.
After the meeting was done Nanami grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the meeting room in the Gojo company building. You walked down the hall with Nanami in front holding on to your hand with a bruising grip.
He clicks the elevator button and pushes you hard against the wall beside the buttons, your eyes widening in fear. He's been violent today, and you're scared. He pushes his knee against the already bruising harsh slap mark, holding your neck. "You think it's fun being a fucking slut?" His eyes darkened as your eyes teared up.
Gojo was cleaning up the mess Nanami made letting his workers go home, so he was just walking back to his office when he saw you trying not to cry. He went up to you two and smiled, and more made his presence known. Almost like: "I'm here, don't try anything more."
Nanami scoffed and let go of you, so you gave a little nod to Gojo. A small moment of relief for the hours of trouble at home. Gojo wanted to do something, take you away from that asshole to help you.
But he knew he couldn't. You were the literal enemy's wife. You basically meant nothing, especially to him, just a rival company's wife. But he was single, no one in his life, he had no one to go home to . The only reason why he wanted to help you is because Satoru had it tough growing up.
Seeing his mom constantly getting beat by his dad, then going through emotional trauma, he was meant to be the heir to the company. He was treated so well growing up, but seeing his mother, his own flesh and blood, covered in bruises and cuts? Kinda fucked him up.
So seeing something that happened to him might happen to you? But you were the actual victim?
He was an ass but not a narcissist.
You had those scared eyes he had when he was a kid, hearing his mothers blood curdling screams 24/7. He hated it. He fucking hated it so much, he almost had a panic attack before he went to his office and sat his ass down. He hated having this office as his own. He didn't want it. Just brought back how well he was treated and his mom was treated like shit.
You had that sweet kinda face he couldn't let anything happen to.
For his sanity, not yours.
The next meeting, he would do something to make it clear to people that he was a terrible man and husband, maybe even he would get something out of it, like his employees. Win, win. He would have to divorce you because the public and his business would go to shambles.
Perfect.
He started his plan when Nanami sat across from him in his big clear tabled meeting room on the 50th floor over looking the bright and busy city. The meeting started off with trades then Satoru literally jumping across the table and pulling up your sleeve to hundreds of bruises scattered across the lower arm.
Reporters going crazy with flashes making your heart drop and breath pick up with quick short pants. You would be homeless or worse if this got out. You quickly ran out as Gojo stood proud, ready to be marked as the "hero who saved the girl from domestic violence!"
You were a misfortune to your family now.
Getting 100s upon 100s of angry calls and texts from flaming family members about how since he has to divorce you, they aren't getting money from the media since your main purpose is that. And how you should've "sucked it up" because all wives have to be punished by husbands.
Yet you wanted to be happy not punished, not hated by the person who is supposed to love you, not treat you like another woman, a female meant to be a wife, not a lover, not someone with deserves affection. An concubine at most. This is horrible, something out of a horror movie. And it's eating your soul in and out.
It sucked, it sucked so fucking hard, being that kinda woman.
Gojo was at his gigantic home, his feet kicked up on an ottoman by the fire, his body relaxed in a comfy chair smiling, scrolling through face book. (He swears he's not a millennial, but he truly is) He saw a small article written by probably one of your family members talking about your downfall and just being total dicks.
His face went pale, realizing that he fucked up.
The marriage was horrible but leaving him would be worse for you too. No good decisions but one of them was mildly better. And he took that from you. He took the only thing that kept you mildly respected, the only thing that kept you afloat in this cruel world. It was horrid. The way your treated. No goods. No happiness, like you were destined to be depressed. This was fucking horrid.
He heard a violent knock, making him jump out of his wallowing trance. He went to the front door, opening it to nothing but a dark sky and a gloomy mist with rain showering down in the front lawn flowers. Until he felt something collide with his chin sending him back a few feet, almost knocking him to the floor.
It was you.
Your face flushed a deep pink, maybe from the cold or crying. Your eyes flicking up to his towering height. You were smaller but you were significantly stronger than him in some way.
He was about to yell until he realized how bad you look. Not ugly but a few bruises on your arms a small bruise on your cheek bone. Your lip is slightly cut like you got punched or something. His anger turned into something of a worry. He's never worried about anyone but his mom before.
He slammed the door his heart beating 100 beats per minute from the stress of the situation. Did he really ruin someone's life? Did he seriously fuck up everything in your life? Lose all the respect you barely have.
Considered a whore even though Nanamis cheating photos got released by one of his mistresses because she was mad about the media calling him an asshole so she decided to make people know she doesn't side with him.
It sucked so bad, he ruined a sweet girls life who was already suffering.
He knows your sweet from limited interaction. Seeing you always respect Nanami even though you hated him deep in your heart. Maybe you did or didn't. It just made his heart sting.
With remorse and something else he can't place, seeing the tears in your eyes mere minutes ago, seeing you almost break down, he deserved to get hit on someway.
He's sad, he's never sad. Sometimes he's tired from the work or annoyed from Nanami, but he's never sad. Never to the point of crying at least.
Never to the point of wanting to rip his heart out especially to someone else's expense. He's more cared about himself, not in a narcissist way but in a way there was no one to care *about*.
He opened the door to seeing a soaked with rain water you, still upset but a bit more calm now. He cleared his throat then smiled in a cocky way saying "someone's upset." Then he did his signature smirk and let you in.
"What's wrong with you?" You stated with a small crack in your voice. Your eyes finally releasing the tears you've been holding in the whole marriage.
His smirk sorta faltered for a sec then going but to his normal cocky self he pinched your cheek. "You're so weak when you cry." He laughs.
Your face stings with a bit of resentment and anger, also a small tad of embarrassment. You raise your hand to strike him again but he caught your hand and let out a little "nuh-uh-uh."
"Why are you being such a dick? I'm gonna be homeless or I can go back to my family home and die from being violently beat." Your voice raising with frustration over the whole situation that he's taking lightly.
"This is your fault."
His face fades into something into almost something of regret and guilt. His signature smile turned into a not so signature frown. His face much more sincere of remorse then it was before.
Your words flowing out of your mouth before you could stop them, insulting him. You were so unbelievably mad it wasn't even funny. You were hurt and he just made it worse in your eyes.
The horrific marriage, and the pain was horrible. Physical and emotional. And everything is so much worse in your own way. After you were done your yelling your face was beat red and wet with your tears.
Satoru was uncharacteristically quiet making your stomach twist in an uncomfortable way, like something was horribly wrong. Maybe you went to far, but you were too hurt to care.
"Listen, I understand why your mad, you were being abused and I couldn't let that slide. Something like this would happen one way or another." He said with a more serious tone.
You realized the change in his tone and you slowly nodded. You understood the severity of the situation. Mostly because you understand the way that it would never be good for you. In or out of the marriage and this specific downfall was bound to happen at some point.
He knew where you were coming from, this whole situation was extremely horrible. He did sorta fuck up. He didn't even ask if that is what you wanted. He knew it went to shit and you couldn't control it. But the marriage was only going to get worse, more violent. You might've had to do things that were horrible to stay with him.
It was scary knowing that no matter what your life would suck. And for some weird reason it made his heart hurt.
He tucked your wet hair behind your ear looking into your eyes for a second, then he slowly cleared his throat calling a maid over. "Get her in a room, and a towel and fresh clothes. Make sure she has the soap she wants." He said with a small smile on his face as he looked at your confused one.
He held your hand and realized how bad it was shaking. You were scared and alone. He knew your family was angry, pissed and maybe even violent. Maybe thinking the time you turned thirty you would be dead. Or just hurt and poor, maybe you thought you weren't worthy of love.
He held your hand up the stairs, he just felt bad maybe even if it wasn't really his fault. It was gonna happen at some point. He took you to the big comfy room. No crying stains on the fresh pillows, big windows overlooking the city since the house was on a hill. A small chair in the corner with a bunch of stuff on it.
He smiled when your lips slightly moved up. "Why are you doing this Mr. Gojo?" You said with a bit of confusion and gratitude in your voice. He smiled, more natural, moving closer to his breath mingling with yours. "Because you're a bit pitiful Mrs." He said just mrs because he knew you would hate Kento or your maiden name.
That was… thoughtful. Even for him.
He backed up with his signature smirk now. He left with a smile and a little "Night." you nod when he made eye contact then he left. What were you thinking? You should be going back to that dick husband and going on tv and saying its fake, maybe you fell down.
Because Gojo is temporary, this calm lifestyle will be in shambles sooner or later.
You went to bed not being able to sleep great, curling your knees to your chest, finally falling asleep. Finding comfort in the warm home, you knew he would hit you. You didn't know him well but the gentle blue eyes that look at you with cocky kindness makes you know he wouldn't do anything like that.
You woke up with a loud bang and the door flying open. It was Nanami. With cuts on his face and his glasses broke some of the glass in his skin. The maids were trying to stop him holding his arm but he pushed them to the ground. You run out of the room pushing him to the side.
"A bunch of people ganged up and beat the shit out of me!" He growled out, "Because you couldn't hide those
You look down the railing and see the door broken, the wood snapped on the hinges. He grabs your hair and throws you to the ground making you shudder with pain. He kicks your stomach and you scream. Gojo runs out of his bedroom, boxers and messy hair. He punched Nanami in the face making him stumble back.
They get into a tussle but you couldn't physically watch anymore because of how much pain you were in. It hurt so bad. Your stomach was stinging. He kicked it hard. You looked up choking up something to see the calm Satoru Gojo beat the shit out of Nanami.
He was violent.
You knew he wouldn't do that to you. Because if he could do that much violence to one person without remorse, it was chilling. Yes Nanami deserved it, but it was so fucking violent, the blood splatting on the floor scared you. You know how bad Nanami deserved it but it was still frightening.
You get up running, slightly limping from the way your upper body puts pressure on your stomach, Gojo saw it and quickly stopped and ran after you, leaving Nanami on the floor. You were bawling your eyes out, so he quickly wrapped his arms around you and you cried harder. You've never been held with gentleness without malice. Just kindness.
You knew he wouldn't hit you but it still horrified you.
He held you close, kissing your hair, your tears rubbing against his now wet chest. He brought you to his room shutting the door leaving Nanami on the landing. He washed his hands and put on a shirt covering some scrape marks on his chest from the panicking Nanami.
He sat you on the bed silently looking up at you as he went on his knees in front of you. He took off your shirt, your breasts pouring to see your badly bruised stomach. He brushed his hand over your tummy making you flinch. "Hold on." He mumbled and grabbed some healing shit rubbing it on your stomach gently making you have quiet tears roll down your face.
You smiled when he cared about your injures more then your tits making you smile, maybe it wasn't so bad. Being here with him. You heart groaning in the hallway and you pointed to the door then he gently pushed your hand down so he continued fixing you up.
He kissed the side of your breast as he got up and wrapped your stomach in bandages to make sure the cream stays and doesn't rub off on your shirt. Then he slid your shirt back on. "I'm not gonna ditch you because of this mess. You hear me? I got involved and that's my fault."
He smiled at you and hugged you then kissed your cheek. You ignored when he kissed your breast because he just seemed to be doing it for respect in his own kinda way. Even if it was a type of sexual implication, that he wants you. You kinda like it. Being cared for in a kind way, just making sure you're okay but also showing you love.
He sat on the bed and brought you on his lap hugging you. He rubbed your back with his other hand on your thigh holding you close. Your face was in his chest taking in his scent. Gripping his shirt for stability, mental and physical. It stung so bad, you'll have to go to the doctors later that's for sure but you need to relax for a bit.
His chin was on top of your hair as you felt him say through a small rumble of noise against his neck. "Are you alright Y/N?" He mumbled his voice not higher than a whisper. You nod holding him closer to your body, you were cold and he was a gentle warmth you've needed for years.
His blue eyes flicking towards the door was opened by a bloody Nanami you dig your face into Gojo's chest because you didn't want to see that. He put you on the bed with gentleness that only he could provide for you. He took Nanami by his collar and threw him out of the house.
He went back upstairs and the maids that he didn't send home for a day off cleaned the floor. Gojo walked back in and sat back down beside you on the bed making the mattress dip. He realized you fell asleep and he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, kissing your forehead then temple.
He rubbed your thigh gently trying to coax you awake. Your eyes flutter open still glossy with tears. It made you smile at how tender he was being, A big contrast to mere minutes ago. "I called a home doctor." He said it was almost inaudible to keep you relaxed.
After getting checked out and it was nothing internal, it was safe. You were safe. Although the doctor recommended bed rest.
You look go down stairs to Gojo paying the doctor money and letting him out of the front door with a neutral face until he saw your smile and he had that beaming smile that made your day better all ready. "Why are you doing this for me?" you walk up to him with a grin and an eyebrow scrunch.
He looked at you like you just insulted him and his mouth gaped open. "Listen, you were always nice to me, even when you hit me, which hurt by the way. You always have a good reason for something. I deserved to get hit, I was being a bit of a dick before and after you hit me."
"You were a bit of a dick." You retorted back with a smirk. "Hey! I'm being nice here!" He states it's the end of the world. "Anyway I got Nanami arrested, he's going away for a long time. I sent them visual proof and also sent him divorce papers." He says still being cocky but in a nice way. Somehow he could do that.
He went up to you and tilted your head up by your chin and bent his neck down till his breath was mingling with yours. He pressed his lips to yours in the sweetest way possible. Sweet because his lips tasted overly like candy and how soft his lips were. It didn't feel like when you and Nanami were dating it felt like commitment and sincerity.
After that you two went on tons of dates till he presented you with a pretty ring.
Best ending possible.
☆*:..。. .。.:*☆
Everyone i wrote a fluff for nanami earlier here <3
☆*:..。. .。.:*☆
Taglist: @blusterry-bomb @riameriash @nanamin-chan @lady-of-blossoms @devilsadvocatenh @beautifuleaglealpaca @bitchpleaseeeeeeeeee-blog @satorupied
@pwincess00 you said you liked part one, so i tagged you in this one, because maybe you would like it <3
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wistericaine · 3 days ago
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'friendly' fire | theodore nott
serial killer!theo x writer!reader | fluff but in a dark way | wc: 647
summary: theo plots a murder for his ex while his friends watch
tw: mentions/references to death
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“I’m going to kill him.” Theodore grumbled out. 
You were currently hanging out with Theodore and some of his friends—Mattheo, Lorenzo and Pansy—with Theodore currently pacing around the room in anger.
Pansy had decided to invite you out for a fun drinking game that they often did in their childhood. You had quite a bit of fun with the game, talking about your book and exes that the five of you all had. Mattheo had talked about his secret rendezvous with various women while Pansy talked about her issues with men in the dating scene—which eventually had started a conversation about your toxic ex.
Suffice to say, Theodore did not like him after this.
“It’s okay, my love.” you murmured out, watching as Theodore paced around the couches. Pansy and Lorenzo seemed to be looking a bit fearful of his pacing. Mattheo was sitting next to you, a large smirk on his face as he watched Theo pace. 
“It is not okay!” he exclaimed—his voice cursing out in Italian like a bow running sharply against the strings of a viola. “I swear, I’m going to strangle him.”
“I can get you rope.” Mattheo said ecstatically. “Or a wire.”
Theo stood in place at that, pointing at Mattheo for a moment before nodding. “Rope.”
You sighed dramatically. “I was going to use him for a part of my book.” you murmured quietly. 
“Can I choke him?” he asked you, walking over to you with an almost pleading look in your eyes. “Please principessa? I promise to make it poetic.”
You rolled your eyes. “Something clean.”
“Theo. Clean.” Mattheo scoffed. “Yeah right.”
“He doesn’t even deserve clean.” he grumbled, sitting down next to you much like a petulant child might. You weren’t quite sure why Pansy or Lorenzo were scared of him—you knew that Theodore wouldn’t do anything to hurt people that he loved. “He deserves to be in pain.”
You sighed quietly and shook your head. “What are you thinking, Teddy?”
“I’m thinking something torturous.” he murmured quietly, kissing your cheek and wrapping you into a cuddle on the couch. His body rested between your legs as his head rested on your chest—while you rested your journal on top of his back to write on it. “Maybe something involving bleach. Or fire.”
“Bleach?” Lorenzo murmured quietly, both him and Pansy sitting in shock still.
You scoffed quietly. “You’d have to buy quite a bit of bleach and matches. Wouldn’t be good on a receipt if he was looked for.”
“Okay, then I’ll dismember and drown him.” he said to you.
“That’ll bloat him.” you murmured quietly to Theo, writing something else down in your notebook. “Plus the body parts might float upstream. They might find him.”
Mattheo scoffed at the banter you two had. “Okay Ms. Perfect, what do you suggest then?” he asked.
“Acid?” you said. “I could use it as a metaphor.”
“That sounds—” Theo murmured quietly before sitting up a bit straighter. There was a look of awe in his face that he had almost always been showing you recently—ever since you had figured out that he was a serial killer and helped him with his processes. It was more prominent now than before though, a small smile growing on his face. “Where does he live?”
“Near that bakery.” you mumbled non-committedly, flipping to the next page of your journal.
He laughed quietly and pulled you in for a kiss—lips caressing yours for a moment before he stood up and rushed out of the house. 
“What the fuck was that?” Pansy asked you incredulously. Lorenzo was following close behind her, though his friend Mattheo had been bursting out in laughter the entire conversation. 
You shrugged quietly. “Nothing serious.”
“How the fuck does a serial killer have more game than us?” Lorenzo asked incredulously, sighing dramatically and sinking into the couch. “God, I hate my life.”
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hello everyone, i hope you guys enjoyed! just another small drabble here <3 this fic contains both serial!killer theo and murderer!mattheo, but murderr mattheo isnt toooo important so u can just glaze over that. thanks so much for reading!
nav . masterlist . library blog . side blog
© wistericaine 2025. do not copy, translate or claim any of my works as your own. reblogs + comments are so very appreciated!
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vgfm · 1 day ago
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An Amateur Theorist's Analysis of Deltarune Chapters 3 and 4
Hey Every ! With the release of Deltarune chapters 3 and 4, I figured I’d weigh in with my thoughts and pick up the pieces of my old theories. I’m not as big into making theories myself these days due to the time investment and the advent of the Youtube theory scene kicking things into high gear. Honestly, it’s become hard for me to keep up.
Still, for old time’s sake I figured I’d tie off a few loose ends and maybe plant some seeds for the future if I ever decide to return to theory writing. This post will be far less formal than my previous outings. I didn’t take the time to gather screenshots or anything, which was often the most time-consuming aspect of my old theories (even with helpful community resources), so I hope you won’t mind this text-based analysis.
(spoilers for Deltarune chapters 3 and 4, including secret bosses and the weird route)
Overall Impressions
Chapters 3 and 4 are different from what came before. Very different. I was entranced during my initial playthrough, marathoning both chapters in a single day. I wasn’t exactly sure what to think at first, but I can say that my enjoyment of these chapters has only grown during subsequent playthroughs
Pretty much every theory that tried to predict the outcome of the game or that relied on some kind of pattern or formula ended up being proven hilariously wrong. I’m happy with this outcome, as I was never a huge fan of most theories like that and it makes each of these new chapters feel more unique
Many have said this, but it’s obvious that the budget and scope of these chapters has only increased with time. Chapters 3 and 4 are yet another step up in production quality that we’ve seen in the transition from Undertale to Chapter 1 to Chapter 2.
Chapters 3 and 4 feel noticeably harder than chapters 1 and 2, to the point where I had to switch from keyboard to controller just to keep up with the harder fights. I’m largely ok with this, since 1 and 2 did feel a bit too easy at times.
I’m not sure if I can rank the chapters because each one brings something unique to the table.
Chapter 1 has the most unforgettable first impression, though like many I’ll at least say that it is the weakest of the four chapters (especially if you didn’t play it blind at launch).
Chapter 2 is the funniest chapter and feels the most “packed” with content—it’s the most well-rounded and it might still be my favorite but I’m not sure.
Chapter 3 is my current favorite from a pure gameplay perspective—I love the variety, the challenge, the numerous secrets, and the replay value in shooting for a better score and optimizing one’s playthrough.
Chapter 4 has the strongest narrative, characterization, and emotional beats, as well as my favorite character, secret boss, and final boss
The Knight
Before the release, I had reconsidered some of my arguments against Kris Knight to the point where Alvin Knight and Kris Knight were nearly 50/50 as my prediction, with a slight edge to Alvin.
Despite being proven wrong on both counts, I’m more than happy with how things turned out. In the past I dismissed Dess Knight, not out of dislike for the theory, but merely because I didn’t think it was possible. I suppose there’s a slight chance the Knight could be Carol, who was a distant third for me before release, but I’m 90% sure it’s Dess.
In hindsight it’s funny how chapters 3 and 4 disprove many of the counter-arguments against Kris Knight, only to end up disproving Kris Knight anyway. It seems like Kris might be working with the Knight (more on that later), and I honestly think that’s a more fitting role for them than having them be the direct antagonist.
I’m also fine with Alvin Knight being wrong because we got more Gerson focus than I could have ever dreamed of. One of my reasons for latching onto Alvin Knight was that I was a Gerson fan (before it was cool), and in many ways I thought of Alvin Knight as a means to see Gerson again. In the end Alvin just ended up being a middleman, and I’d rather have a story with Gerson and no Alvin Knight than one with Alvin Knight and no Gerson.
As a side note, I do find it funny that chapter 4 seemingly confirms that closets that can fit a large person inside are actually relevant to dark fountain locations in some way, given the flavor text for the church’s closet door at the end of chapter 4. I was always suspicious of the library closet door and felt that some theorists were way too quick to dismiss it.
Overall, I’m just happy that we have some answers for the Knight’s identity now, even if there’s some wiggle room to speculate. The worst-case scenario would have been if no one had been confirmed or deconfirmed and the same old Knight discourse continued for the next year.
Then Who was Phone?
A smaller and less clear mystery is the question of who Kris is talking to on the phone during Chapter 4
At first it seems like they’re talking to Carol for sure, but the weird route throws a small wrench into this
To wit, at Noelle’s house the voice says “I’ll be right there” and Carol shows up shortly after. Seems cut and dry until you play the weird route, where Carol shows up anyway despite Kris (seemingly) not using their phone. The “I’ll be right there” line could have instead been referring to the Knight going straight to the church for the next dark world, which the phone voice discussed earlier.
Additionally, at the end of the weird route we hear Carol call Kris without the weird shadowy text box and ellipses that the mysterious voice uses. Depending on how one interprets this, it could either be proof that Carol is the voice or proof that Carol is not the voice
I’m 90/10 on the Knight being Dess instead of Carol, but for the phone voice it’s closer to 50/50 for me. It doesn’t help that Carol is seemingly being set up as a red herring for Dess as the Knight, so it’s possible this is also true of the voice on the phone
The Third Code
Another mystery set up is who holds the codes to access the shelter at the bottom of town. The three symbols are a pine tree, a police badge, and the deltarune.
It seems pretty certain that Carol and Undyne are the first two code holders, given the comments from Alphys and Napstablook. There’s perhaps a chance that Dess is the pine tree instead since her guitar held a code, but I feel like that’s either a result of Carol hiding it there or Dess discovering it through her own snooping, given the Spamton Sweepstakes implying that she was a bit of a sleuth when it came to cryptids and other mysteries
That just leaves the third code. Susie speculates that it may belong to someone who’s religious and friends with the police and the mayor. An obvious candidate for this would be Asgore, but it would raise of the question of why he was removed from the force or not simply given the police badge code instead.
Toriel could be a possibility, given that the Knight seemingly tried to abduct her before settling for Undyne, but I’m not sure if Toriel would be entrusted with that authority. Maybe the Knight was trying to use her to lure out Asgore or Kris?
Kris is also a candidate, given that they’re connected to the shelter and the mayor. The ending of chapter 3 may also imply that Kris knows how to open the shelter, though it could have just opened without Kris’ involvement
I know I’m showing my bias here, but it’s worth mentioning that Alvin is also a contender. He’s definitely associated with the deltarune, is an influential figure in town, and is conspicuously absent during chapter 4’s dark world shenanigans. He’s one of the only characters who directly tells Kris to stay way from the shelter, whereas most other town members are utterly ignorant of it. There’s also a theory going around that he was the one who made the smaller lobby fountain in the church in order to resurrect Gerson.
That being said, I don’t really think Alvin is likely. I stuck my neck out for him once before, and at this point I think a member of the Dreemurr family is far more likely, especially with the hints toward Asgore’s greater relevance in Chapter 5
Shadow Crystals
I’m fairly confident that not a single person managed to predict the “secret” boss of chapter 3, and I’m honestly very happy about that because none of the popular candidates really spoke to me, even if the idea of Woody theory was amusing
Seam tells us that there are five shadow crystals in total, meaning that chapter 5 will likely give us the last one. Despite this, I predict that there will be a secret boss in chapter 6, though it may be one that’s only accessible if you’ve beaten the previous crystal bosses
I’m now more confused than ever as to what the meaning behind the shadow crystals might be and where this storyline is headed. There is some hidden flavor text in chapter 4 about a “falling star” that implies that the crystals may have been created by the Knight, or are at least primarily related to the Knight in some way. This would tie into the idea that Seam’s reference to a “strange knight” and “strange someone” were one in the same
I was definitely not expecting the Knight to possess a shadow crystal, let alone be the source of them, so this throws a major wrench into my previous assumptions about the role of the crystals
I had once thought that the crystals represented freedom and defiance of the prophecy, and some of the dialogue from “Eram” in chapter 3 implies this may be the case. On the other hand, it feels like the Knight is an agent of the prophecy and Gerson, who openly advocates for defying fate, wants nothing to do with his shadow crystal
On top of this, we don’t really get any further information of who the “strange someone” might be. We find an abandoned phone in the “Z rank” lounge in Chapter 3, but this may have been Spamton’s phone from when he worked with Tenna. It’s also unclear if the person talking to Kris on the phone is at all related to the strange someone or not. The phone voice does seem to be foretelling future events, which could perhaps tie into what Jevil and Spamton experienced, but that’s only speculation on my part.
This also complicates Gaster’s role in all of this. The Knight has holes in their hands, not unlike Gaster, and Gaster is heavily implied to be tied to the shelter and the shadow crystal subplot. At this point, can we say that Gaster is in favor of the prophecy or is he trying to find a “new future” in defiance of it? What if the prophecy itself is the new future? I’m not entirely sure I buy that, given what the weird route has told us, but I can’t say I have any strong answers at this point.
The Weird Route
There’s not as many weird route moments in these chapters as most of us were expecting, but in some ways they’re far more impactful than anything I could have predicted
At first I was confused and a little disappointed that the beginning of Chapter 4 seemed to be walking back the events of Chapter 2’s weird route. That was, until I learned that this was done on purpose—Kris went out of their way to try to undo the events of chapter 2 and keep it a secret from “us.”
My attitude immediately turned around at this revelation, since this solidified that not only is Kris opposed to the weird route (as one might assume), but they’re actively conspiring against us in a game of wits. This only made it all the more impactful when, for once, even Kris’ best laid plans are completely unraveled at Noelle’s house.
This might be recency bias on my part, but the sequence in Noelle’s house during the weird route might just be the single most disturbing and effectively executed cutscene in the entire Undertale/Deltarune franchise. Although it only makes up a small portion of chapter 4 (which is otherwise mostly “vanilla”), it makes a weird route playthrough more than worth it (if you’re ok with that sort of thing)
To back things up a bit, these chapters basically confirm that the weird route is centered around Noelle first and foremost. I strongly suspected this before 3 and 4 came out, but this means that there isn’t going to be some “Toriel firegrave” equivalent to chapter 2’s weird route with the other Hometown residents
In fact, the weird route doesn’t seem like it’s headed for an encore of chapter 2’s events either. It feels more like the killings in chapter 2 were a means to an end
My current shot-in-the-dark suspicion is that freezing Berdly in chapter 2 wasn’t done solely for the sake of killing someone or making Noelle stronger, bur rather it was done to remove Berdly as Noelle’s default choice for a festival date in Chapter 5. Since Carol forbade Noelle from taking Susie, I could see her trying to set her up with Berdly instead in a normal playthrough of Chapter 5. With Berdly out of commission, it’d only make sense for Carol to go along with “Kris” taking Noelle instead
Another shot-in-the-dark prediction I have is that the thorn ring might end up being obtainable in a later normal route chapter, perhaps in chapter 5’s rumored “garden” chapter. One reason why I think this is the case is so that the Twisted Sword will be craftable, but also because I can’t help but wonder where Spamton found that ring in the first place. In the demo we could have Jevil’s shadow crystal and item appear in Castle Town if he was fought previously, so I’m wondering if shadow crystal holders are capable of smuggling items across space and time. In this case, Spamton smuggled a chapter 5 item into chapter 2 so that Noelle could break the game, much like a newgame+ run
This could be its own theory post, but I want to touch on Chapter 3’s “sword route” that’s used to attain the Shadow Mantle. I feel like there’s so much to say about this inclusion and yet I struggle to find the words currently. I am a bit disappointed that I haven’t seen more sword route-focused theories yet. That whole sidequest feels like a Rosetta stone for unpacking the potential meaning of the weird route and predicting where it might be headed.
Ramb says that the sword game was the old game before Tenna changed it, and I’m curious whether there’s any deeper meaning or parallel to that in the weird route. I’m not sure I buy the theory that the weird route is the original course of events that were changed with the introduction of the prophecy, given that other parts of the weird route seem to imply the opposite, but I’m curious to see if anything comes of this idea. It could also be that the sword game is instead a parallel to Undertale, with the implication that Deltarune’s world was given different rules and a fixed outcome as a response to Undertale’s world
Predictions for the Future
If 3 and 4 taught me anything then it’s that it’s nearly impossible to predict this game, no matter how likely a theory seems. Despite that, I figured I’d throw out some ideas here purely for fun. Maybe I’ll get lucky and some of these will come true. So without further ado:
Noelle will return to our party in a dark world, probably in chapter 5. There’s new flavor text for Noelle equipping items in the code and it feels like the weird route would require her to re-enter a dark world at some point
We will not be gaining any new party members beyond Noelle. At most they might serve as an in-battle ACT like Gerson did in chapter 4
Catti and Jockington may appear in a dark world, but they’ll be there as enemies like Berdly was in Chapter 2. Chapter 4’s dialogue with Catti seems to be setting this up. The npc in the “Jockington grows the beard” room makes reference to “5 o’clock,” which could either refer to 5 o’clock shadow or chapter 5
Asgore will receive major focus in chapter 5 and we’ll get information on how he ties into the Holiday family and Dess’ disappearance. The prophecy about Asgore being “trapped in asylum” may mean that he will be the next to be taken to the shelter
Chapter 5 may conclude the Knight storyline or at least serve as a major turning point in that plot, given that Toby originally wanted the paid release of the game to end at chapter 5 instead of 4
Papyrus and Asriel will not show up until the end of the game, if at all.
Weirdly enough, the Froggit in QC's diner has some dialogue in chapter 4 that seemingly implies that one of my old crack theories may be true? Specifically, they mention someone in the diner having pockets full of butterflies, and in that chapter we see the purple Ice-E guy working in the diner. This would be in line with my early speculation that Everyman may be one of the costumed workers at Ice-Es, given Everyman's association with butterflies. I don't think this will have any major story significance, but it's a neat way to bring things full circle for me if true
The final prophecy may involve one or more of the heroes dying, like some have suggested, but I think there’s more to it than that. We see that many of the other prophecies form rhyming couplets, and the prophecy right before the smashed prophecy is one that ends with the word “way”. This makes me suspect that the rhyming word in the smashed prophecy is “betray,” implying that one of the heroes will betray the others and either kill or be killed by them. I don’t think this would be Ralsei, given Susie’s previous suspicion towards him and how she treats him after seeing it. I think the most likely candidates, if true, would be Kris or Susie herself.
Kris being the traitor would be in line with their suspicious behavior and would upset Susie if it gave her reason to doubt that their friendship with her is genuine, but that same friendship would be why she’d try to laugh it off. However, Susie being the traitor would not only seem laughable to Susie but would also disturb her, given that it would confirm every bad thing that she’s thought about herself. It would also potentially be in line with Gerson stating that Susie reminds him of the dragon from Dragon Blazers, who is seemingly an antagonist
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nubiawrites · 3 days ago
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one shot: blue part one
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Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character
Warnings: 18+. unprotected sex. pregnancy. miscarriage.
Summary: iriye and aaron's road to becoming a family.
Notes: off the bat, this is at least 10k. I wanted to split it up because there is a second part to this but this was the perfect stopping point. This is set in the future, four years after the events of the actor and his muse. I was very much inspired by @kumkaniudaku as the universe she has made with Terry and Patrice is one of my favorite stories to read. I also put a line in here to warn where one of the warnings happens, as I do not want to trigger anyone. To find it, hit control or command f and enter trigger ends. I was inspired to write this as a Black woman who is looking at her own future and relationship when it comes to the idea of having children. I hope you guys love it as it was made with so much love, care and research. The songs Blue and Mine by Beyonce inspired this piece. Enjoy part one.
MASTERLIST
Iriye didn’t know when it happened, but babies were becoming a common thought in her head. Maybe it was because of her birthday passing, a party Aaron threw in her honor. She was buzzing from seeing how he had gathered close friends and family to celebrate her. Even Vivian turned up, her nose growing wider daily as she waddled in flats, a glow about her. She looked glamorous, even with the weight of carrying her first child.
“You look stunning,” Iriye admired, Vivian chuckling at her praise. 
“I am trying my best. This little girl is taking all my energy,” Vivan rubbed her hand over her belly, humming. 
“We can sit if you want,” Iriye said. Vivian just shook her off. 
“If I sit, I’m gonna fall asleep, and I don’t know when I might be out at a party after she’s born,” Vivian admitted. 
“How much longer do you have till she’s born?” Iriye asked.
“Two more months and then Gabe, Charleston, and I become a family of four,” Vivian said, teary-eyed. Iriye turned to find a napkin and handed it to her. “I never thought I would love doing something more than acting, but becoming a mom… nothing beats it.” 
Across the party, Aaron made himself a drink as Kel chatted about how Nelly was driving him crazy. Nelly had been taking her job as producer on Lanoire Productions' new show very seriously, and Kelvin was starring in it, so the two were budding heads. But to Aaron, their friendship turned into something more, and neither could see it.
“Like what does the color of my suit have to do with anything?” Kelvin asked.
“Listen, Nelly knows what she’s talking about when it comes to production and such,” Aaron said, mixing his whiskey sour.
“She said that about my suit tonight,” Kelvin stated. Aaron chuckled. “What?”
“Nothing. It’s gonna take you two some time to figure it out. Your relationship,” Aaron chuckled. He heard Iriye’s laugh from the other side of the room, and he bit his lip, watching her with Vivian, holding a hand to their friend’s baby bump. He watched them for a minute longer, seeing Vivian walk away, and he caught Iriye’s eye. The look in it took him aback: longing. Aaron mouthed three words: I love you. Iriye returned them: I love you, too.
The party ended later that night. Iriye enjoyed a glass of wine while Aaron rubbed her feet in his lap. 
“Thank you again for my birthday. Even though I’m still not the best about celebrating myself, I appreciate you putting this party together,” Iriye admitted. 
"It was nothing at all. It put itself together honestly," Aaron said, being humble. He knew he had done quite a bit, but it was all worth it to see how happy Iriye was. "I'm just glad so many people were able to come."
“It was so nice to see everyone. I gotta send thank you emails. You even got Vivian out. I know she's been relaxing and such. Nesting for the baby to come," Iriye laughed softly.
"You and your bestie were chatting up a storm," Iriye playfully rolled her eyes at Aaron.
"I didn't know Vivian that well three years ago," Iriye stated. "She's probably due any day now, and then she's supposed to be filming with Tamara in about three months. I think she's bringing the baby with her to the UK."
"I would imagine Vivian wouldn't want her eyes off of her kid." Aaron rubbed the arch of her foot, and Iriye moaned.
"She's gonna make a great mom," Iriye admitted.
"You know you would make a great mom, too," Aaron stated. Iriye raised a brow at him as she sipped her wine. 
"What are you talking about?" Iriye asked him. Aaron moved till she was sitting in his lap, putting her wine glass on the ground for her. "What are you up to, Mister Pierre?"
"I just wanna talk to you," Aaron whispered against her ear. "I saw the way you looked at her while you two talked-"
"Okay stalking much," Iriye teased, her hand curling around his neck and stroking the hair at the nape of it. 
"And we've been together for about four years now. And maybe... Maybe we want more than just the two of us. Maybe we could make... A baby. If you wanted that," Aaron explained.
Iriye raised her eyebrow at Aaron, chuckling softly at his words.
"Is this because I'm thirty-four. Are you trying to get me to do this because I'm getting up in years?" Iriye teased. "I get it. A baby would be something... Good. But are you just saying this because you think it's what I want or because you also want that?"
"Is it something that you want?” Aaron asked.
“Yes. I mean, we’re both in a great spot financially with our jobs, and we have this beautiful place together,” Iriye went on before Aaron interrupted her. 
“Yes, but emotionally,”
“Is it bad I want to say… yes. It’s not just seeing Vivian. On set two weeks ago, I held the baby Samantha, who was cast for an episode. I forgot she was on my hip and was going about my business as usual,” Iriye admitted, Aaron chuckling at the image of Iriye with a headset, comforting a fussy child. “What about you? You didn’t say if you wanted that.”
“I can’t lie. I’ve thought about it some,” Aaron stated. “Last film I was on set for, and you came to visit. We were walking in the park early in the morning in New York. Remember when we saw the toddler with grass stains on their pants? I kept imagining what if that was us,”
“Well, it can be reality. Do we want to do it? Make the next big step. Have a baby,” Iriye asked.
“I do. Do you?” Aaron looked up into her dark brown eyes, her reddish brown skin beautiful as he looked at her.
“I do, Aaron. I do. Let's do it. Let’s have a baby,” Iriye said with a giggle. Aaron kissed her softly before picking her up. “Aaron, my wine.” She felt a smack to her backside as he laid her over his shoulder.
“You won’t be needing that, love.” Aaron led them to the bedroom, where they worked on their baby-making moves for the rest of the night.
It took two weeks to coordinate a day off as Iriye was in the throes of prepping for season three of the show she was on. She managed to get the morning off, and Aaron and she drove to her OBGYN’s office.
They probably looked like a pair, holding hands happily as they watched the different stages of life around them: expecting mothers and some even with their babies in tow.
“Can you believe this could be us in a few months?” Aaron asked, leaning on her shoulder as she looked at a pamphlet about fetal development.
“Maybe. We gotta see how this appointment turns out,” Iriye stated. “Did you know I wanted to be a doctor once?”
“Did you?”
“I did,” Iriye nodded. “But then I broke my arm and at the age of seven, that dream was long gone,” Aaron chuckled, and she kissed him softly, brushing her nose against his. 
“Broken arm made the dream die?” Aaron asked. 
“Seeing them put it back together was wild,” Iriye said. “But the first pilot I ever wrote was a terrible medical drama,” She said with a smile.
“Using the trauma for creativity. I love it,” Aaron teased. He took the pamphlet from her and read it till Iriye’s name was called. 
Iriye and Aaron headed back into Doctor Lathan’s office. Her walls were littered with her life’s work: families of different backgrounds and the babies Doctor Lathan helped bring into the world.
Doctor Lathan came into her office, Iriye squeezing Aaron’s hand.
“So this is the partner,” Doctor Lathan said, holding her hand to Aaron. She was an older Black Woman who didn’t look a day over forty-five.
“Nice to meet you, Doctor Lathan. I’m Aaron.” 
“Nice to meet you, too. I’m guessing we’re not in here for a check-up,” Doctor Lathan sat down with Iriye’s chart.
“We’re looking into our options for having a baby,” Iriye said, feeling Aaron squeeze her hand.
“Well, congratulations. Were you two debating options? Trying naturally, or did you want to go about IVF or surrogacy?” Doctor Lathan asked, opening Iriye’s chart and making notes.
“We wanted to try naturally before looking at those options,” Iriye explained. 
Aaron let Iriye take the lead, just listening and offering his thoughts, but knowing that, ultimately, whatever Iriye wanted, he would give her.
“I think the most important thing is that Iriye is happy and healthy, so the baby is too. I want to do everything I can to alleviate any stress or pressure. Support her,” Aaron admitted, Iriye trying her best not to be too in awe of this man. 
“That’s good to hear. So we will take some vitals from you, Iriye, and then Aaron, we’ll do some from you as well. We check the results to see if we need to worry about anything. And since Iriye has not been on birth control for a year, it makes things easier as she doesn’t have to wait for the birth control to leave her system. So you two can get started as soon as you want to,” 
“Well, that’s good to know,” Iriye tried to be calm and collected. But she knew they would get to business as soon as they got home.
Aaron and Iriye took all the pamphlets and information, knowing what they would need to make this thing good. When they got home, Iriye felt Aaron help her out of her jacket. He moved her hair to the side, laying soft kisses down her neck before pulling her in for a hug from behind.
“Hi,” Aaron said, his hands rubbing the front of her body.
“Hi,” Iriye said, humming as she felt Aaron close to her. 
“You want me to make something, or do we order in?” Iriye bit her lip, turning to face Aaron.
“I don’t know,” Iriye said. “I mean, whatever we pick, it might be in the story of the day we conceived our child. You know, the one that we tell them to annoy them,”
“Always looking for the angle for a story,” Aaron kissed her thoroughly on the lips.
“You know me,” Iriye whispered against his lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and Aaron lifted her, legs wrapping around his waist. He walked them to the bedroom, taking her down on the bed for what would be the first of many times they would try to conceive.
Three weeks in, it was bliss for Iriye and Aaron—lots of laughter and giggles. Hurried hands took time to pull the other into positions every night they had free. Some days, quickies were when Iriye worked from home for her writers' room or after Aaron was done with auditions. 
Of course, Iriye researched the best positions for conceiving a baby. If they were going to do this, they would be the best at it.
“You got a pregnancy pillow?” Aaron said, eyes wide, as he lifted the pillow from the box. 
“When you say it like that, it sounds wrong. It’s just a pillow meant to help elevate the hips, making your swimmers get to their destination super easily,” Iriye explained.
“Yep, that whole sentence was super sexy,” Aaron teased. 
“Well,” Iriye moved to her jean dress, unbuttoning the top until the lacy bra she had brought from the store was revealed. “What about this being super sexy?” Aaron licked his lip softly.
“I think I need a closer look at that,” Aaron said. Iriye walked over to sit in Aaron’s lap. He moved to unbutton the rest of her dress, seeing the matching panties. She was just about to take her heels off. “Nah, keep them on.”
Making a baby was fun, but waiting for the fruit of their labor was stressful. The anticipation only worsened when they went to see Vivian, Gabe, Charleston, and their little bundle of joy, Liberty. 
“She has your nose,” Iriye said as she looked down at the baby sleeping peacefully in her crib.
“I know. I’m gonna protect that nose from the world. I let someone talk me into a nose job when I was eighteen. Never again,” Vivian said, looking in adoration at her daughter. 
“I’m sorry about that,” Iriye said, looking at Vivian, and she gave her a small smile back.
“It’s a lesson I should have never had to learn, but I’m glad I did because now, I get to protect her the way I should have been. Be the mom I never had,” Vivian admitted, pausing when Liberty squirmed in her bassinet. Her little hazel eye peeked open a few times as she yawned. “Hi sleepyhead,” The baby released a soft coo, and Iriye was in awe.
Iriye helped Vivian get Liberty ready and cleaned up, then they headed out to the living room. Gabe brought Vivian over a mocktail, and Aaron came over to see the baby Vivian was holding. 
“She’s gorgeous, Viv,” Aaron said, and Vivian smiled.
“Thank you,” Vivian said, trying to take a sip of her mocktail.
“We can hold her if you want to drink and eat,” Iriye offered. Aaron smiled softly at those words. Vivian put her drink down. 
“Okay. Just make sure to cradle her head,” Iriye could see the little worry in Vivian’s eye, but she made sure to help Aaron hold the baby correctly, trying not to giggle as he looked like a giant with the baby in his hands. 
“How do I look?” Aaron asked, gently rocking baby Liberty in his arms.
“Like a natural,” Iriye let slip out.
“That’s how it starts, you know? Baby fever,” Gabe joked, going to make Vivian a plate.
“Not bad at all,” Iriye smiled, watching Aaron with Liberty.
By the time they were leaving, Vivian had to practically pry her daughter from Iriye and Aaron, the two promising to bring more goodies for their little family. 
They made it home and quickly became enraptured with each other again, bodies melding together.
Iriye rolled her hips in Aaron’s lap, Aaron focusing on where his length was connected to her center. Her hands were on his knees as she ground against him, feeling his length hit that right spot. She felt the sweat on her skin and the heat rising between them.
“Look at me,” Iriye whined. Aaron’s eyes looked up at her, and she smiled, leaning forward to kiss him. “I love you,”
“I love you too, Iriye.” His hand slid to her stomach, and she found herself clenching around his length. “I can’t wait for you to have my baby,”
Iriye threw her head back and cried out, her end hitting her hard. She continued riding him until he spilled into her, Aaron turning them so she was on her back. She stroked his cheeks as he caught his breath.
“We’re going to have something we share forever. Apart of me and you,” Iriye said softly. Aaron opened his eyes, the deepness of the blue in them striking her to the core.
“Our child,” He said, pulling her tighter to him. As much as Iriye knew they would regret falling asleep on the couch, she couldn’t find it in herself to convince Aaron to move them as they were entangled.
“Can we get pineapple on the pizza?” Iriye asked one of the writing room PAs, Elias, as he was taking orders for the office. Her show’s writers’ room was working out of the expanded Lanoire Production offices on the Warner Brothers’ lot. She had been craving pizza badly and decided to change the plans, paying for lunch for the writers’ room and everyone working in the office. 
“Pineapple. Ew,” Nelly said, furiously typing on her phone. They were in the main conference room, giving everyone a couple of minutes to get their orders and clear their head before they got back into planning the rest of the season for the tv show Iriye created.
“Tell Kel, we said hey,” Tamara chuckled as she walked behind Nelly, Nelly hiding her phone.
“I don’t know what you two are talking about,” Nelly stated.
“Girl, we know you and Kelvin are a thing. You guys aren’t slick about it,” Iriye stated, grabbing another bag of chips from the snacks area. “God, why didn’t anyone tell me how good these vinegar and salt chips were?”
“I did. For many years. Why are you joining the party now?” Tamara tried grabbing a chip, and Iriye playfully slapped her hand.
“Okay, snackie gonzalez,” Tamara chuckled. Nelly eyed Iriye carefully.
“What?” Iriye caught Nelly looking at her. 
“I don’t know. You just look… different. Glowy even,” Nelly stated.
“I noticed that, too. What’s the new skincare routine?” Tamara moved closer. Iriye playfully rolled her eyes at them.
“Nothing new. Just washing my face and wearing sunscreen,” Iriye took a sip of her water, happy that some writers started coming back into the room, making Tamara and Nelly leave.
Before she got home, Iriye stopped at the grocery store to pick up some things, including the one thing that had been on her mind: a pregnancy test.
She didn’t want to do it alone, so she waited until Aaron got in from dinner with his agent. Iriye sat up upon hearing the door to their apartment open and shut.
“Hey, baby,” Iriye called out. Aaron rounded the corner to the kitchen with a smile.
“Hey, love,” Aaron came over to kiss her lips before seeing the box on the counter. “Wait…”
“I think we should pee on this. I mean, I pee on this. You can watch,” Iriye rambled on.
“You want me to watch you pee?” Aaron raised an eyebrow. Iriye playfully hit him.
“I meant to be in the bathroom for moral support or not. I don’t know,” Iriye climbed off the stool, and Aaron pulled her in to kiss her neck and shoulder. “I added pineapple to my pizza and have been craving vinegar and salt chips. I hate vinegar and salt,”
“Yeah, you’re pregnant,” Aaron said, pulling her back into his arms and resting her head on his. “Plus, your skin is all glowy.”
“That’s what Tamara and Nelly said,” Iriye pulled away and grabbed the box.
“Well, there's only one way to confirm it,” Aaron said, taking the box from her and moving to find a plastic cup from when they had a barbecue. “I’m gonna need you to pee in this here cup,” Aaron joked. 
After handling the business of peeing in a cup, Iriye was sitting in Aaron’s lap while he sat on the edge of the bathtub.
“How much more time,” Iriye asked, her hand playing with the tag in the back of Aaron’s shirt. 
“Well… It’s been two more minutes since you asked a minute ago,” Iriye groaned, and Aaron chuckled at her. He moved to nuzzle her neck and kiss it softly. “You’re in a rush,”
“Maybe. I wanna know. Whether it’s a yes or a no,” Iriye lamented.
“Once we find out, it’s not just us anymore. It’s you, me, and our baby. Baby Edwards-Pierre,” Aaron explained. Iriye raised her eyebrow.
“What does your last name get to be at the end?” Iriye raised her eyebrow at him. “Baby Pierre-Edwards sounds better to me.”
“It has a nice ring, but just think about it. Iriye Edwards-Pierre,”
“Aaron Pierre-Edwards,” Iriye stated, blinking at him. 
“We've got nine months to work it out on the remix.”
“You and Kelvin gotta stop going on TikTok,” 
The alarm went off, snapping them out of their conversation, and Aaron put Iriye on the side of the tub to walk over to the cup and grab it. 
“You ready?” Aaron asked Iriye. She nodded and took the stick from the cup, her finger hiding the screen.
“I love you,” Iriye said, Aaron’s smile growing.
“I love you, too. Even if I’m holding a cup of your pee,” Aaron stated, and Iriye playfully rolled her eyes. 
“Dump it,” Aaron went to flush it down the toilet and then went to wash his hands. “You didn’t even touch it.”
“Sanitary needs, baby,” Aaron returned to her, and she bit her lip. “Whenever you’re ready,”
Iriye waited one more moment before removing her finger from the screen on the test. She stared into Aaron’s eyes, seeing the softness and wonder there. She looked down at the screen and read it.
One word: pregnant. It stunned her. It was just a word, and it had her planning the rest of their lives together. They needed to make a college fund, baby-proof the apartment, and get a house instead.
“What does it say?” Aaron asked.
“I’m pregnant,” Iriye said aloud, bringing the words to the world. Aaron took the test from her hand, and his grin grew to Cheshire proportions as he saw the words. He picked her up, spinning her in his arms and kissing her deeply.
“Baby, you’re pregnant!” Aaron laughed, Iriye giggling at his reaction. He put her down and kissed her again. Iriye wrapped her arms around his neck, and he pulled her close. “I didn’t think falling even more in love with you was possible. Every day you prove me wrong, and today, my love for you just… It’s overflowing.”
Iriye’s eyes filled with tears, and she bit her lip, trying to hold them back.
“Really?”
“Yes, Iriye. I’m so in love with you,” Iriye kissed Aaron again, and she felt him kiss down her lips and then to her neck.
“Baby,” She moaned softly as he skimmed her breast. She was about to take her shirt off when she felt Aaron stop at her belly.
“Hey…” Iriye looked down to see Aaron kissing her belly. She ran her hand over his head as he spoke to her belly. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m your dad. And your mommy is right above us and she is amazing cause she’s doing all the heavy lifting by carrying you, feeding you, and keeping you warm,”
Iriye smiled, tears flowing down her face as Aaron spoke to her belly. She was sure she couldn’t distinguish what he said above her sniffles and sobs. But he returned to kiss her, and she pulled him close.
“We’re gonna be parents,” Iriye whispered, soaking his shirt in happy tears, holding each other in the bathroom.
It took them three days to get in for an appointment with Doctor Lathan for an ultrasound. Iriye was giddy as she listed the answers to the nurse’s questions before the doctor came in. Aaron just held her hand through it all, kissing the back of it or pecking her lips. 
Doctor Lathan came in with the chart, smiling softly at the couple. “Well, we have the results from the blood test. Congratulations. You are pregnant. Seven weeks along. Now, change into the gown and we can have a look at the fetus on the ultrasound,”
Doctor Lathan stepped out, and Iriye got changed into the gown. She had to bat off Aaron’s hands and lips as he tried to pull her close. She lay back on the table, and Doctor Lathan and her nurse returned with the ultrasound machine. 
Iriye bit her lip as she looked at the screen, seeing it go black for a moment. Aaron stroked her hand, trying to calm his nerves and hers. 
“And there it is,” Doctor Lathan pointed to the screen, and Iriye saw the tiny speckle. “The fetus. The baby,” She turned a knob and a steady heartbeat flowed through.
“It’s so tiny, but it’s making that much noise.,” Aaron said in wonder.
“And it will get even bigger in the next months. We just have to get through the first trimester. That’s usually when the risk of miscarriage is higher,” Doctor Lathan explained. “Once you’re out of there, it goes down significantly.”
“Okay,” Iriye said, awed by the life growing inside her. “Can we get pictures?” Iriye asked.
They left the appointment and headed to a restaurant for lunch, Iriye in the mood for something savory. While waiting for their food, Iriye was cuddled up close to Aaron in their booth, looking through a baby clothing website.
“Those are so cute,” Iriye said, showing the little booties. She added it to her cart.
“The tracksuit looks adorable too. And it’s unisex,” Aaron said, sipping his water.
“We’re really gonna have the cutest baby ever,” Iriye added the tracksuit to the cart. “So when are you thinking about telling your parents and my mom?” 
“My parents are coming out towards the end of next month. By then, you should be well into the second trimester, so it seems safe. We can fly your mom down too and tell them all at once,” Aaron reasoned.
“You don’t want to tell them sooner?” 
“Doctor Lathan said we have to make it out of the first trimester,” Aaron reminded her.
“I get that. I'm just buzzing. I’m excited. We did it.” Iriye explained. “Why not share it now?” 
“I just want things to be alright before we tell anything. And it will be,” Aaron assured her. 
“Okay. I won’t say anything,” Iriye said, mimicking herself doing a lock and key moment with her lips.
And Iriye stuck to her word. It’s just that everyone else figured it out easily.
Iriye was in her office, trying her best not to eat more peanut butter cups, when she heard a knock at her door.
“Come in,” Iriye said, chewing her last peanut butter cup.
Tamara and Nelly came into the office, stopping at the door.
“Anything I can do for you two?” Iriye said.
“No but there is something you can do for us,” Tamara said. Iriye raised her brow at them. Nelly pulled a pregnancy test out from behind her back.
“Pee on the stick!” Nelly stated.
“Guys!” Iriye said, hoping no one overheard them. 
“It’s that simple. We need to know,” Tamara crossed her arms.
“It’s either that or a drug test,” Nelly demanded.
Iriye huffed before saving where she was in the document she was working on.
“Shut the door,” Iriye said. Tamara and Nelly came into the office. She grabbed her bag and pulled the sonogram out. “You can not tell Aaron or Kelvin that I showed this to you guys.” 
Iriye slid the sonogram over to them, and immediately Nelly got excited, trying to hide her screams with her hand. 
“You’re pregnant!” Nelly hopped.
“I am,” Iriye said, trying her best not to get teary-eyed. Nelly came to hug her while Tamara looked at the sonogram. “Tam?” She was nervous. Tamara looked up at Iriye and Nelly, biting her lip.
“You’re gonna be the best mom, Ri,” Tamara said with a watery smile, eyes filling up with tears. The flood gates came through, and Iriye was crying.
Tamara joined the hug, and the three women held each other as they cried.
“You guys are gonna make a player cry,” Nelly joked, trying her best not to sniffle.
“How far along are you?” Tamara asked, pulling back to grab some tissues for them.
“I’ll be two months by the end of this week,” Iriye grinned. “Aaron thought we should wait because the first trimester is the trickiest, and he wants to ensure we’re good. The baby and I,” 
“You’re going to be a mom. That’s wild,” Nelly shook her hand. “We’re going to be aunts,”
“We are!” Tamara cried, and Iriye dabbed at her own eyes. 
“You guys can’t say anything, or Aaron will be so mad. I haven’t even told my mom yet, and he hasn’t told his mom or dad or siblings,” Iriye stated.
“We won’t,” Tamara stated. “My lips are sealed,”
Iriye and Tamara turned to Nelly.
“What?”
“Don’t play, loose lips,” Iriye pointed out. 
“I’m not going to say anything, I swear. And who would I say anything to, anyway?”
“Kel,” Iriye and Tamara said in unison.
“What? No. I’m not even talking to him right now,” Nelly rolled her eyes.
“But are you going to fuck him tonight?” Tamara asked, Iriye’s eyes going wide.
“You two have been sleeping together?” Iriye gasped.
“Define sleeping together?” Nelly asked.
For the next hour, Iriye and Tamara got the details on Nelly and Kelvin’s escapades, ensuring no stone was left unturned.
A week and a half later, Iriye was setting up game night for her and Aaron’s friends. Iriye had set up the snacks while Aaron was bringing packages to their apartment at the last minute. Aaron had told her he had it, considering he didn’t want her overexerting herself. 
“I could have gotten those,” Iriye said as she went over to help him with a few boxes and packages, but Aaron turned away.
“Nah, love. I told you I was going to handle them. You've got enough to deal with carrying our baby,” Aaron stated. Iriye glared at him. 
“I’m not helpless, you know,” She said as Aaron placed the packages on the coffee table in their living room. She saw a package and tried to pull it away discreetly, but Aaron caught on quickly.
“What is that?”
“What is what?” Iriye feigned, slipping the package behind her back. 
“Iriye,” Aaron raised a full eyebrow at her before pulling her into his lap, Iriye shifting the package to her side. “Show me,”
Iriye huffed and opened the package, showing Aaron the baby clothes she had brought.
“They were gender-neutral and on sale,” she rolled her eyes. Aaron shifted her to his side on the couch, chuckled, and opened a package.
“We said we weren’t going to buy anything,” Aaron said, opening the box in his hand and then shutting it, trying to slide it to his side.
“What you got there, babe?” Iriye asked. 
“Nothing,” Iriye locked eyes on his before trying to reach for the box. But Aaron was quicker. “It’s nothing,”
“Show me,” 
“Opening another person’s mail is a crime in this country if I remember,” Aaron chuckled as Iriye tried her best to climb over him to the package. “Be careful, love,”
“Just show me. I won’t get mad,” Iriye stated. Aaron handed her the box after he pulled her back onto his lap. Iriye opened it and pulled out a tracksuit set for a baby. “Now Aaron,”
“It was cute. And I don’t even order many things,” Aaron explained. Iriye then pulled out another one in his favorite color. By the time she was done, she had pulled three more out.
“Now that is a lot of tracksuits for one baby,” Iriye raised an eyebrow at Aaron. 
“Just preparing them for their future,” Aaron said. “Don’t worry, though. Yours should be coming soon.”
“Wait… you got us matching track suits,” Iriye asked.
“Of course. We gotta look good as a family,” Aaron said with a shrug. Iriye cupped his chin, and she leaned in to kiss him softly. 
“We’re a family,” Iirye repeated before she leaned in for a more extended kiss.
“We can cancel game night, right?” Aaron mumbled against her lips.
“I don’t think so, but if we don’t answer the door, they’ll get the memo.” Iriye reasoned.
“Right, love,” Aaron kissed her again, leaning her back against the couch.
Sadly, they didn’t cancel game night as Kelvin showed up twenty minutes later to set up the karaoke machine he had brought. And of course, Nelly so happened to meander in a good ten minutes later, perfectly timed. Aaron pretended not to notice the hickey on her shoulder when Nelly took her jacket off. Iriye just rolled her eyes.
Tamara and Cece came, along with a few other friends. Viv made a big deal of entering the house, each hand holding a wine bottle.
“She’s already two sheets to the wind. My mom took Libby for the weekend,” Gabe remarked.
The party was in full swing, everyone convening around snacks as Vivian came to refill everyone's glass with their wine. Iriye had been doing her best to excuse herself to the kitchen to fill her glass with grape juice, not wanting to seem too out of place for saying no to a glass of wine. 
“I got a special bottle I’ve been drinking,” Iriye said when Vivian tried to fill hers. “It was a gift from the studio. Hella expensive,” 
“Mhm,” Vivian giggled, winking at her. Iriye raised her eyebrow at her.
“What?” Iriye asked her. 
“Nothing… you just seem… bright. Glowy even,” Vivian said, her smile coming through.
On that last sentence, Kelvin came into the room with a bag of chips.
“Well, duh. She’s with child,” Kelvin said, chewing the last of his chips.
There was a silence until Iriye smacked Aaron’s arm.
“You told Kelvin?” Iriye whispered.
“No, I swear I didn’t,” Aaron stated.
“But he told me in the kitchen twenty minutes ago,” Vivian giggled.
“Aaron!” Iriye glared.
“She guessed it!” Aaron exclaimed.
“Not really,” Gabe stated. “I might have told Vivian after we got drinks that one night,” 
“Man, come on,” Aaron stated.
“You told Gabe before me?” Kelvin held his hand to his chest, hurt.
“I was knackered,” Aaron shrugged.
“So who told Kelvin?” Iriye asked.
“Nelly did,” Kelvin stated.
“You weren’t supposed to say anything, Kelvin!” Nelly rolled her eyes. “There’s a reason why pillow talk stays in bed!”
“Wait, Nelly and Kelvin are fucking,” Viv asked.
“Is it safe to say, we’re the only ones who know how to keep things quiet?” Cece whispered to Tamara.
“So I didn’t tell Nelly and Tamara, which means,” Aaron looked towards Iriye, playing with her sleeve. “Anything you wanna tell me?”
“They practically figured it out,” Iriye raised her hands in surrender.
“Okay. So we all know Iriye is pregnant,” Tamara stated. “I guess this is the part where we say, congratulations!”
Soon, the other women in the room embraced Iriye. Gabe slapped Aaron on the back while Kelvin dapped him up, trying to convince Aaron to make him the godfather.
“Now that all of this is out of the way and we’re laying everything out, Kelvin and Nelly… what the hell are you two?” Iriye asked.
The rest of the night was filled with joyfulness and laughter, and everyone enjoyed themselves. At the night's end, Iriye was shuffling through their fridge, looking for ice cream to eat while Aaron rinsed some wine glasses off and dried them.
“There we go,” Iriye smirked as she pulled out one of the cartons of ice cream she had stashed in the freezer.
“Were you hiding ice cream?” Aaron asked as Iriye hopped to sit on the counter.
“Well, yes.” Iriye picked up a spoon and opened the carton, digging in and humming as she tasted the Vanilla Bean ice cream. Aaron dried his hands and moved to stand in front of her.
“Any way I can get some?” Aaron raised an eyebrow at her. Iriye nodded, taking a scoop and raising it to his lips, watching him take some off the spoon. A little slipped down his chin, and Iriye leaned forward, licking it off with the tip of her tongue.
“Your tongue is cold,” Aaron chuckled, and Iriye giggled. 
“You never had an issue with that before. Remember our anniversary two years ago,” Iriye hummed. Aaron groaned, moving closer to her, his fingers flexing on her thighs.
“That was a fun time,” Aaron stated.
“It was.” Iriye pressed her chest against his. “We should run that back with the ice cream.” She said, handing the ice cream his way. 
“Whatever the mother of my child wants,” Aaron said, putting a scoop of ice cream into his mouth. He leaned forward to kiss her, and she shivered, feeling the cold from the ice cream in her mouth. He pulled away after they kissed each other a moment longer. “You head to the bedroom and strip down… I’ll meet you there,” He helped her from the counter, playfully slapping her ass as she walked away.
By the end of that night, the ice cream was long gone, and their bodies were sticky from coming together in different ways. Aaron held her closer, and for a moment, everything was good. They were happy. They were going to be okay.
Iriye wished she could have held onto that moment even longer. Feeling him hold her and caress her stomach. Talking to their baby. Something they had made together. 
A week and a half later, Iriye was shopping on her day off. She had been strolling through a bookstore she loved while Aaron grabbed both smoothies from a local cafe nearby. Once she was finished paying for her books, she went to walk back his way, taking in the day when she felt something was off. She sat outside the shop, trying to figure out why she felt like that. She watched as Aaron took a photo with a fan before making his way out to her, a pomegranate smoothie in hand.
“Here you go,” Aaron said, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. Iriye took hold of the smoothie, but didn’t take a sip. “You craving something else?” She shook her head. “What’s wrong, love?”
“I think I’m just not feeling good,” Iriye stated, standing up and wincing slightly as she felt a sharp pain.
“Let’s get you home. You’ve been walking for a bit,” Aaron took hold of her bag and the books she brought, Iriye grabbing the smoothie to take with her.
They returned to where they parked his car, and he quickly grabbed her bags and put them in the back seat. Iriye leaned against the car, winced again at a sharper pain hitting her stomach, and let out a small cry.
“Iriye, baby,” Aaron said, heading over to her. Iriye felt tears welling up as she felt like water was gushing from her bottom half.
“Aaron. We gotta go. We gotta get to the hospital,” Iriye stated, trying to hold it together.
Six days later, the hospital visit still felt like a blur for Iriye. Aaron was comforting her and telling her she was okay. The doctor told her the news… she had a miscarriage. She had tried to block out the bad parts because she would cry if she thought too hard, and she was sure no tears were left. She was tired of it anyway.
She heard footsteps from the bathroom and saw Aaron coming in, a pair of sweats low on his hips.
“You’re up,” Aaron said. “I didn’t wake you running the shower, did I?”
“No,” Iriye sighed. “Is my mom still here?” She asked.
“Yes. She’s in the kitchen. She was talking about making blueberry muffins when I came in from my workout,” Aaron stated.
“You went to work out?” Iriye asked him, appalled a little.
“I did. I left a note. I didn’t want to wake you. I know you didn’t sleep last night,” Aaron reminded her. Iriye turned to lie on her back, biting her lip to hide her shame. 
Iriye had gone to her home office in their apartment, knowing her mom figured that she didn’t need to see any of the baby's clothes she had brought. But Iriye needed to know that what she and Aaron had created was real. So she went and hugged the clothes to her face as she cried late into the night.
“You could have gotten me up,” Iriye stated. “I’m not fragile. I’m not gonna fall apart,”
“No one said you were, Ri.” Aaron watched as Iriye got up out of bed, Aaron moving to help her, but she swatted his hands away. “Iriye,”
“I need to start calling people. To thank them for the flowers,” She had seen the bouquets from friends and family whenever she felt like venturing out of the room. It wasn’t often, but she saw the different flowers. Even noticed a small bouquet of them from Samuel Arenas. She hadn’t seen or heard from him in two years, but word must have gotten around to him.
“I already sent out thank yous. Told people to give us some privacy. Luckily, they pushed back production shoots for me in London so we could get more time together,” Aaron explained.
“My show. I have episodes to produce, Aaron.” She moved to find her phone, and when she clicked it open, she saw the picture of the ultrasound that she had made her background. She shut it, her eyes closing and trying to shake the images in her mind. 
“I’m sorry,” Iriye said to the nurses as they helped her out of her ruined clothes and into a clean hospital gown. Aaron was trying to put her clothes into a bag that the hospital offered, but the nurses shooed him away to sit.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Amiyah, an older Black nurse, assured her. She helped Iriye get onto the table, and Aaron reached for her hands and kissed the backs of them.
“I love you so much, you know that, right?” Aaron said, trying to stay calm for Iriye as tears flowed down her face. He was pushing tendrils of her hair back, and she nodded.
“I know,” Iriye stated. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Iriye sobbed. He shook his head.
“It’s okay,” Aaron affirmed. 
“It’s time for the ultrasound to confirm if you’re having a miscarriage,” Amiyah explained.
Iriye shut her eyes as she lay on the table, hoping this was a big mistake. The blood that was left in her body was not abnormal, and their baby was okay. Soon, the wand they used entered her, and she watched as they looked around on the screen, Amiyah keeping a look of neutrality on. After a few more minutes, she turned the monitor to them.
“There is no fetal heartbeat detected.” Amiyah stated. Iriye looked at the screen. 
“Can you um… can you try again?” Iriye asked. Amiyah nodded, doing another sweep and nothing could be heard. 
Iriye’s bottom lip trembled while Aaron sniffled.
“Can we try again? Please?” Iriye felt like everything was out of control.
“Iriye, baby,” Aaron said, making Iriye turn to him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Iriye laid her head back against the table, breaking down in tears.
trigger ends
“Can you change my phone background, please?” Iriye asked Aaron, handing her phone to him. “I’m going to check on my mom.” Without another word, Iriye left the room.
The smell of heavenly baking hit her senses, and Iriye saw Eve nursing a cup of tea.
“Hey, mommy,” Iriye said, kissing her cheek.
“Hello to you, too,” Eve said, passing a mug filled with hot tea to Iriye. “I was expecting to bring this to your bed. You should be resting,”
“I rested enough,” Iriye reached for a muffin, and her mom popped her hand.
“It’s still hot,” Eve said. “And besides, Aaron has never had my blueberry muffins.”
“He’s had blueberry muffins before,” Iriye stated.
“Keyword: my,” Her mom went to put one on a plate. “You can share one with him. Talk to him,”
“What’s there to talk about?” Iriye asked. Iriye’s mom cleared her throat.
“Iriye Renee Edwards,” Her mom demanded. Even in her state, she knew using her middle name meant business. “Just because you’re grown doesn't mean you’re not my child.”
Iriye rolled her eyes and took the muffin and tea to the bedroom. She paused at the door before she pushed it open, a clearing of Aaron’s throat stopping her halfway in the room.
“My mom says you get the first bite of the muffin,” Iriye said, her voice coming out meek. 
It wasn't rare that she saw Aaron get emotional, but it was rarely because of her. And for that, she felt like the worst person, even more so given the situation.
“Oh. Thank you,” Aaron said, Iriye seeing the tell-tale sign of his jaw twitching.
Iriye walked over to him with the plate in hand, placing it beside him before taking a spot.
“You should eat something,” Aaron stated. Iriye took the knife off the plate and split it in half.
“Pick the side you want,” Iriye stated. Aaron sighed softly before taking one part of the muffin. Iriye took the other. He watched her, and Iriye took a bite, showing that she would try to eat. He took a bite of his.
“You know… it would have been three months next week,” Aaron stated. “We would have made it out of the first trimester,”
“I know,” Iriye stated. “I’m sorry,”
“Iriye-” Iriye stopped him.
“I’m sorry for being snappy before… it happened so soon, and it will take some time to heal. But I… It’s only been a week, and I feel like if I don’t move forward, I’ll be stuck, cause you’re just… you’re acting normal. Working out,” Iriye rambled. Aaron tsked.
“I’m anything but normal, Iriye,” Aaron explained. “But right now, what I’m worried about more than anything is you,”
“And who's worried about you?” Iriye asked. Aaron took a moment to breathe, thinking it over.
“I told my parents… about the miscarriage. We talked about it. Prayed about it,” He explained. “My sister said it’s common and often happens in the first trimester.”
“But why did it happen to us?” Iriye asked. There was a silence between the two for a while.
“I don’t know, love. I wish I had all the answers to give you,” Aaron said, choking up. “I wish I could… take it all away.” A sob broke through, and Aaron tried composing himself. But in the safety of their room, Iriye held him closer to her body. When the first sob broke, Iriye couldn’t help but feel her eyes tear up. His face soaked her shoulder and neck, tears rolling from her eyes. Soon, their cries matched each other, Aaron holding tight around her waist.
Iriye tried to shift, moving the plate aside and lying back, pulling Aaron with her. She let him wrap himself around her, his head on her stomach. After a while, the tears quieted down and Iriye continued stroking the back of his neck.
“I shouldn’t be the one breaking down,” Aaron stated. Iriye looked down and saw him lifting his head to look at her. “You went through it—the miscarriage. The d and c procedure,”
“We went through it. It was our baby,” She said, trying her best to cover her eyes for a moment as she felt tears coming back up.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay, you know. I went to work out because your mom said it was okay for me to have some time to myself,” Aaron explained. “I was trying to focus, but I kept thinking of you. I felt like such an ass,”
“I’m being an ass,” Iriye whispered.
“You have every right to be,” Aaron corrected her. She tried pulling him up to face her, and he crawled till they were turned on their sides, facing each other. Her fingers brushed the unshed tears from his face.
“Can I ask you something?” Iriye looked between his eyes. “Do you still love me?”
Aaron furrowed her brows at her.
“Of course I still love you,” Aaron said, sitting up. “Iriye, I do,”
“Okay,” Iriye nodded, getting teary-eyed again. Aaron pulled her close, pressing a kiss against her head before going to her cheek and then her other. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips and pulled her in close.
“I love you, too, Aaron,” Iriye said, the two holding onto each other. As long as they had each other, they would be good. 
Two weeks later, Iriye was in her OBGYN’s office, talking to Doctor Lathan as she checked up on her. Aaron had a fitting and was apologetic for missing it.
“Everything seems to look good. Hormone levels are coming back down,” Doctor Lathan explained. “Emotionally, how are you feeling?”
Iriye bit her lip. “Some days are good. Some days are bad. But talking to a therapist has been helping. Aaron has been really good about giving me space to process it alone, but we’re working on it together. I think he feels guilty because he has to leave for filming in two weeks, and I won’t be with him, so we’re making the most of it.”
“And have you two been intimate?” Doctor Lathan asked. Iriye raised an eyebrow, trying to find a way to word it.
“No. I think we’re still trying to deal with the loss. It feels weird to. I mean, I’m not gonna lie. I want to. Like really badly,” Iriye admitted. “Sorry, that’s probably too much information.”
“It’s completely normal. Some couples wait months out. Others get back to it once things have been cleared. Sometimes fertility levels can be higher after a miscarriage, so that’s just a discussion for you and your partner to have if you do decide to try again for a baby,”
Iriye nodded, taking this information in. It was something she needed to think about with Aaron and discuss.
Later that night, Iriye and Aaron shared takeout on the couch while some mind numbing reality show played. Aaron refilled Iriye’s wine glass, and she smiled at him, taking a sip immediately. She hummed happily afterwards.
“I missed that,” Iriye said, Aaron chuckling at her. 
“I bet you did,” He said, tapping his glass against hers before taking his own. Iriye swirled the wine in her glass, stretching her legs from under her. Aaron pulled them into his lap, massaging a calf with one hand. “You never told me how the appointment went.”
“Pretty good. I seem to be going back to normal, physically, at least,” Iriye explained. “And she said that it was okay to have sex,” She added on before sipping her wine.
“What love?” Aaron turned to her and Iriye felt shy.
“We can have sex?” Iriye stated. Aaron swirled the wine in his glass. 
“We can or we will?” He asked, and Iriye swatted his arm.
“Do you want to have sex with me?” Iriye asked him.
“Well, yes. But do you want to have sex with me?” Aaron asked.
“Can I admit something?” Iriye asked. “I do, but I’m nervous.” She put her wine down. “What if it feels different for me or you? And then what if you want to use a condom or vice versa, because we never discussed if we wanted to try again for a baby and I-”
Iriye was immediately cut off by Aaron kissing her deeply, his hand on her throat. She moaned into his mouth. He pulled back, pulling her lip between his teeth before letting it go.
“So… you do want to have sex with me?” Iriye was still trying to focus, and Aaron pulled her into his lap. She could feel how hard he was, and she ground against him, her dress pushing up her thighs as Aaron grasped her hips.
“I wanna do more than have sex. I wanna make love to you. Fuck you. Claim every part of you,” Aaron groaned, and Iriye felt her cheeks warming, a shy smile on her. “But do you want me?”
“I want you, Aaron,” Iriye whispered. “Please,” 
Aaron didn’t waste any time putting his glass aside and lifting her as he got off the couch. He pulled her in his arms, and Iriye wrapped her legs around his waist.
Aaron made it to their bedroom and lay Iriye on the bed. Clothes were hurriedly pulled away, and Iriye smiled at Aaron, a newfound vulnerability and connection built between them.
“You’re beautiful,” Aaron stated. Iriye bit her lip before kissing him deeply once again. His hands moved to her sides and traced up to her breast. Iriye allowed him closer as she cradled her legs against his sides.
“Aaron,” She breathed as she felt Aaron push his length inside of her. His hand moved to grasp her thigh, holding it high on his hip as he began to roll his hips inside of her.
“You’re so wet, Iriye,” Aaron moaned, his hips keeping an even pace.
“Aaron, fuck you’re so deep,” Iriye grasped onto his sides, her nails digging softly into the flesh.
Iriye moved her hips against his, them moving in sync. Aaron leaned down, kissing her lips before trailing down her neck.
“Right there,” Iriye cried, feeling him hit that spot inside of her that he knew drove her crazy. “Oh my god,” 
“Iriye, you’re so tight,” Aaron grunted, his hips moving a little harder into her. His hand moved to hers and placed them by her head.
“Aaron, fuck,” She intertwined their fingers, feeling him roll his hips into her repeatedly.
“You’re so fucking deep,” Iriye said, Aaron moving to kiss her again. Iriye wrapped her legs around his waist, and he moved a little quicker. She could feel the little pit building inside of her, wanting to reach her end.
“Iriye,” Aaron moaned, feeling Iriye’s walls tighten around him. “You’re so pretty like this under me,”
“Aaron, baby,” Iriye cried as she felt him speed up, thrusting harder into her. “Fuck…” Her walls began tightening up around him. “You’re gonna make me cum,”
“I want you to. You wanna come for daddy?” Aaron said.
“Yes, I wanna come,” Iriye cried out. She rolled her hips harder, trying to keep up with Aaron.
“Oh god,” Aaron began thrusting faster, Iriye’s back arching up into him. His mouth found hers again, and he licked into hers, hearing the wet slaps of their bodies combining.
“You fucking me so good,” Iriye moaned as she could feel herself getting closer to her end. 
“Come for me, Iriye!” Aaron groaned, thrusting harder as Iriye’s moans grew louder. 
Aaron thrust harder into Iriye, hitting her G-spot, and Iriye threw her head back. 
“Oh god! Yes! Yes! Aaron,” Iriye cried out into the night, her walls tightening as she felt her end hit her.
Aaron kept thrusting into her, his hips pounding into her as she rode out her waves. He thrust into her a few more times till he came in iriye, skin slick with sweat as he lay on top of her. 
Iriye didn’t mind his body weight on her as she cradled him, feeling his warmth surrounding her.
“I love you,” Aaron whispered against the skin of her chest, kissing down to nuzzle his head between her breasts.
“I love you, too,” Iriye giggled. Stop, you’re tickling me.” She felt the stubble of his beard scratch against her, and she whimpered, knowing she was still sensitive.
For the next two weeks, their nights shifted between moments of passionate lovemaking, cuddling, and talking, and some were somber. Iriye would get little pangs of sorrow, seeing things that reminded her of the child they lost. She would see the same moments of pause in Aaron whenever he was quietly studying or taking a moment for himself. His eyes were watery. They at least had each other to wipe the memories away.
But once Aaron left for shooting in London, Iriye tried her best to focus on work. The season of her show was wrapping up, and she had been having meetings about the next film she should write. 
For the next month and a half, most of the meetings were in person, so Iriye had time to figure things out before she joined Aaron in London for a much-needed vacation. But the longing didn’t help as she would lie in bed alone, thinking about how far along she would have been. 
“You sure you don’t want one of us to stay with you?” Nelly asked as she, Tamara, and Iriye walked to their cars on the production lot.
“No, I’m good. I’m gonna go home to a bottle of wine, all my shows on DVR for me to watch and unwind,” Iriye stated. 
“A wine dinner? Cece can make you something,” Tamara stated, but Iriye shook her off.
“I’m fine. And besides, Aaron is gonna be up in the next hour by the time I get home, so if anything, I’ll bug him until he tells me to go to bed,” Iriye explained.
“Are y’all going to have phone sex? You’re gonna have phone sex,” Nelly teased.
“No, we’re not.” Iriye could tell Nelly was trying to cheer her up from her impending sadness about Aaron's absence from work. 
“Well, we are here for you, no matter what. You can call us at any time. We will come running, you know that,” Tamara said. Iriye took Iriye’s hand in hers and squeezed it. She hugged Tamara before grabbing Nelly for one. She watched as they got into their car and soon made it to her place.
Iriye had made herself a sandwich after slipping into one of Aaron’s shirts and going to their bed. She texted him good morning, knowing he was probably on set earlier. She found herself slowly nodding off when she finished her sandwich.
Loud knocks at her bedroom door abruptly woke up Iriye. She got up from bed, stumbling to the bedroom door, and opened it to see Tamara at the door.
“What? What’s wrong?” Iriye asked, trying to rub sleep from her eyes.
“Thank god! I thought you were dead or something,” Tamara said, checking Iriye to see if she was okay. “It’s twelve thirty-five Iriye,”
“Wait, I overslept! Shit,” Iriye looked for her phone and saw it was dead. “I had a meeting! I can’t believe I slept fo r over ten freaking hours,”
“The exec’s assistant called to ask if you were running late. I called Aaron, and he hadn’t heard from you since you said good morning last night,” Tamara explained.
Iriye ran a hand through her hair, feeling like she was a mess, and Tamara came over to her.
“Are you sure you’re not under the weather?” Tamara put her hand to Iriye’s head, and she frowned.
“No, I feel okay. I must just be tired. So many meetings and work stuff. It’s draining me,” Iriye moved to put her phone on the charger. “Give me about twenty minutes and I’ll be ready,” 
Iriye went into the bathroom, getting herself together. She returned to the room, huffing as she realized what was wrong.
“I got my period,” Iriye rolled her eyes, seeing Tamara sitting at the edge of her bed. “It’s been a minute, so that’s probably why my body is off.”
“Aw, Ri,” Tamara gave her a small smile. “Please call Aaron cause he is steadily blowing up my phone,”
Iriye quickly grabbed her phone and texted Aaron, letting him know she was alive. She was immediately met with him FaceTiming her.
“Thank god,” Aaron said, his tone sounding worried as he came into the camera's view.
“My phone died. My bad. I overslept,” Iriye explained. “Tamara saved me, though.”
“I told her to,” Aaron stated.
“That man thinks he runs me,” Tamara joked.
“Okay. I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Aaron said. “I love you. I gotta head to bed, but I will talk to you later, okay?”
“I love you, too, baby,” Iriye said, hating how things were rushed between them, but work called. Aaron hung up, and Iriye sighed.
“Another day in Paradise,” Iriye explained. 
Soon, Iriye and Tamara arrived at the office, and her assistant, Cassie, caught Iriye up on things.
“Anything you need?” Cassie asked, eager to be of help to Iriye.
“Can you bring me a snack from the office and order lunch for us both. I’m starving,” Iriye hated feeling so off.
“I restocked your snack drawer, so you have some stuff. But I’ll get on that lunch order,” Cassie said. Iriye thanked her and opened the drawer, seeing the salt and vinegar chips. She hesitated for a moment, thinking of her former pregnancy craving.
 Iriye took a bag out and opened it, took a chip out, and chewed it. She hummed quietly, knowing she must have been desperate to eat the chips. Iriye made a mental note to ask Cassie to keep them in rotation.
Iriye began to believe she was under the weather, combined with her period, as she felt so sluggish for the next week. She went to bed and slept for long hours. She powered through, knowing she had another two weeks to make it, and then she was off to London. It didn’t help that she began getting nausea spells.
Luckily, Iriye’s team at Lanoire worked with the executives and producers she was meeting with to arrange her schedule so that she could complete the meetings earlier, freeing her time up so she could feel better and get to Aaron sooner.
Aaron hated night shoots. They always threw his sleep schedule off, and as much prep as he had in ensuring his routine wasn’t rattled, he still felt off. He had just gotten himself relaxed enough when he heard his doorbell ring. He groaned as he got up, heading to the front door of his house. When he opened the door and saw her, he was prepared to kindly ask whoever it was to leave if it was anyone else.
“Hey, handsome,” Iriye smiled widely. Aaron’s eyes went wide, and she giggled as he kissed her.
“What are you doing here? Wait, did I read our calendar wrong?” Aaron asked if he had gotten the dates of her coming to London wrong.
“I got done with work early and I have some news I couldn’t wait to tell you,” Iriye smiled as she felt his warm hands on her cheeks. He noticed she didn’t have anyb ags besides her tote in hand. He began kissing her again, him trying to slip his tongue in but she stopping him. “You’re not gonna like that,”
“I have tasted you in many different ways, Iriye.” Aaron raised an eyebrow, and Iriye slapped her hand over his mouth. 
“Well, you’re not gonna like the taste of morning sickness,” Aaron heard her words and raised an eyebrow at her.
“Morning sickness?” Aaron asked. Iriye bit her lip, and she reached into her pocket, pulling out a picture.
“Open it,” Iriye directed. Aaron opened the envelope and carefully studied the ultrasound. “I’m pregnant,“ Iriye said, tears coming.
Aaron was in awe at the ultrasound picture, looking back at Iriye and seeing how happy she looked. 
“You’re pregnant again?” Aaron was afraid that she would say it was a prank. That this was a dream. Anything that made this moment feel unreal.
“I am, baby, I am,” Iriye could see his thoughts racing. “You’re gonna be a dad. We’re going to be parents,”
And with that affirmation, Aaron pulled Iriye in for a deep kiss. He lifted her up and spun her around, Iriye giggling. 
“Put me down or we’re gonna have a problem, “ Iriye teased. Aaron listened and put her down, his joy not knowing any limits. 
“I love you,” Aaron said, looking deeply into her eyes.
“I love you, too,” Iriye replied. Aaron’s hand went to her stomach, a tear running down his face, and she wiped it away, her own eyes filling up. 
In that moment, Iriye knew that whatever happened, as long as Aaron continued to look at her like that, she would be safe, their baby would be loved, and their family would be whole. 
@wildwomanalereyia @teenage-aria @skvrpion @absentmindeddreamer @blackpinup22 @liv10002 @styleismyaddiction @jungwonsgfs @hooliemooliedonutshawp @hippiesandpeacesigns @blowmymbackout @justagirlwho-believes13 @caribbeangyalsworld @melovedorks @moihasarrived @ashanti-notthesinger @xx-mintyxx @iluvchrisbrown @ash-ketchumzzz @deijalee @pyramidlight @xosharieee @kaylaahisthebestest- @chaniceandrea @kimmivlixx @saveadanc @kaylalb @queenbritbrat @kceeee @naughtynolly-blog @myawesome56 @chainingxday @nononoks-blog @kinginwithbreezy-blog @apple123cg @jazziejax @lauren1000000 @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @venusincleo @loveschrisbrown20 @brwnskingirlll @iamfredtina @cozyashhh @modelmemoirs @kimiasinterlude @rpayn22 @mscarter123 @lolola22267 @thesweetestdrug @valarghoulis @nyifly22 @zimsilandela @teheeboo @blveeeeeee @5starsirl @yassbishimvintage @23jammy @prettiegal @vadeadiugularis @gabbywontlose @pinkkycherrish @slashervalley @aqueenwasmadehere @lee-jennie @wuzzzgoood
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kikiiidym · 2 days ago
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hiii!!! I couldn’t find a rules post for your blog so if this is anything you don’t wanna do or just don’t feel like writing please ignore it! But if not could you do pjo boys headcannons with a transmasc!reader? Also, I just have to say I love your works so much! I really enjoy how you write the characters :)
How PJO/HOO boys would react if they found out someone was being transphobic
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Percy Jackson :
He got really damn mad. Like next level, “Poseidon might want to hold me back” kind of mad.
You told him after dinner, voice small, eyes flicking down to your plate. You thought maybe he’d just try to cheer you up.
Instead?
Percy’s chair scraped back like thunder cracking.
“They said what?” His fists slammed the table. “Who the hell—who—would have the audacity—?”
He looked like a storm was building behind his eyes. He stood up like he was ready to go find someone right that second.
“Percy—” you tried, but he pointed at the ground. “No. No, you don’t just say that like it’s okay. You’re telling me someone mocked you, the person I love, for being exactly who you are?”
He crouched in front of you, voice softer but trembling. “You are real. You are valid. And you are more badass than any sea monster I’ve fought.”
Then he kissed your knuckles and muttered, “Swear to the gods, if they say anything again, they’re getting a one-way trip to Tartarus Lite.” (Someone found their whole cabin flooded next day.)
Grover Underwood :
Grover’s reaction was… different. He just started crying.
“They hurt you?” His bottom lip quivered. “They really—how could anyone be so cruel?”
You tried to reassure him, but he took your hands and looked right into your eyes.
“You are valid. You are sacred to the wild. You’re part of the balance, the beauty, the song of things.”
Then he added through clenched teeth: “I know several dryads who’d love to help me ‘accidentally’ trap them in vines.”
He blinked. “Also, maybe I slipped a truthroot into their tea. Oops.”
Connor Stoll :
Connor? Oh, he got mad as hell. But the smile? Still there. That dangerous little “Oh so we're being assholes now, I’m about to wreck someone” smirk.
“They bullied you? For that?”
He put an arm around you, kissed your cheek, and said, “Don’t even worry, babe. They messed with the wrong cabin.”
You blinked. “Connor, don’t do anything crazy—”
“Oh, I’m not.” He winked. “But their armor? Might smell like skunk for the rest of the week. And their socks? Vanished.”
He leaned in, nose brushing yours. “But seriously, I don’t care who they think you are. I know who you really are. And I think that’s amazing.”
Travis Stoll :
Travis looked like he was about to flip a table.
“They mocked you? Oh, it’s over for them.”
“Travis—”
“Nope. No talking me out of this. You’re my boyfriend. You’re real. You’re brave as hell. And I will be rearranging their bunk beds so they collapse at 3 AM.”
He got serious for a second, pulling you close.
“Hey. You don’t ever need to change for them. You’re already everything I want.”
Then he winked. “Now go nap. I’ve got mayhem to plan.”
Luke Castellan :
Luke got dangerously quiet—the kind of quiet that only comes from someone who’s fought monsters his whole life and just discovered a new kind worth slaying.
You told him at the campfire, trying to pass it off like a joke. “It’s fine,” you said with a shrug, “just some dumb comments. People suck.”
He didn’t laugh. Didn’t smirk. Didn’t blink.
“They bullied you?” he said slowly, the words sounding like knives being drawn.
You tried to downplay it, but he stood up like a switch had flipped.
“Who was it? Tell me. Right now.”
There was something terrifying about how calm he looked. Like a man who’d burned the world once and wouldn’t hesitate to burn a smaller piece of it again.
“I thought I’d seen the worst people could do,” he muttered. “But they mocked you? Just for being you?”
He sat back down, pulling you into his lap without asking. One hand on your lower back, the other gently brushing your cheek.
“Listen to me,” he said, voice low. “You are everything they wish they had the guts to be. You know who you are. You live it out loud. That scares them.”
His tone turned hard again. “If I hear even one more word from them—just one—I will remind them that I may not be Kronos’s vessel anymore, but I’m still a damn force.”
Then he softened, just for you. “But more importantly? You’re safe with me. And loved. So loved.”
That night, the bullies found their gear rearranged to spell “cowards” across their cabin floor.
No one ever said a word about it. But they never messed with you again.
Will Solace :
Will? Freaked out quietly at first. He was calm on the outside—but he was one more insult away from going full wrath-of-Apollo.
You told him after he noticed you acting off during breakfast. You thought he’d be disappointed.
He was not.
Will’s whole demeanor went icy.
“They bullied you for that? For being yourself?”
His jaw clenched so hard it looked painful. “That is unacceptable. I’m going to report it. I don’t care if they’re Jupiter or Greek, child of a war god or whatever—they’re getting dropped from every rotation.”
He softened when he saw your expression falter. “Hey—no. Don’t you dare think this is your fault. I see you. All of you. And I love you for exactly who you are.”
He kissed your forehead and added with a smirk, “Also, I may or may not ask Apollo to give them the worst rash known to demigod kind.”
Nico Di Angelo :
Nico didn’t just get mad—he got deathly still.
You told him one evening while sitting under the stars. You didn’t even want revenge. You just wanted someone to know.
His expression went blank. That terrifying, undead kind of blank.
“They said that... to you?”
You nodded.
The shadows at his feet rippled. The temperature around you dropped. You reached out and took his hand before he did something, because oh, he was going to.
“I want names,” he said, voice low. “Because I’ve brought down worse for less.”
“Nico—”
“No, listen.” His tone cracked open just slightly. “I know what it’s like. Feeling like you don’t fit anywhere. Like who you are is wrong just because it makes others uncomfortable.”
He took a shaky breath, his hand now gripping yours tightly. “But it’s not. You’re not. You’re you—and I love you. Which means they better keep your name out of their mouths, or they’ll find themselves alone in the dark.”
You never saw the bullies again. No one asked questions.
Jason Grace :
Jason didn’t yell. He didn’t swear. But he looked like he could crush marble with his bare hands.
“They said what?”
His fingers gripped the back of a chair so tightly the wood creaked. You told him the story, trying to downplay it. He was not having it.
Jason took a deep breath, trying to ground himself in his training—but his knuckles were white.
“They think they can shame you? The bravest person I know? I don’t think so.”
He took your face in his hands, thumbs gently tracing your cheeks.
“I know what it’s like to feel like you’re two people. I had to be perfect. But you—you’re true. You’ve chosen yourself over fear. And I won’t let anyone take that from you.”
Then he kissed your temple. “Also, I’ve written a formal complaint to Camp Jupiter’s senate. They’ll be scrubbing centurion bathrooms by tomorrow.”
Frank Zhang :
Frank got quiet. Really quiet.
He just stared at you, jaw tight, eyes wide and kind of… haunted. Like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
You said, “It’s fine, really, I—”
“It’s not fine.”
His voice was shaking.
“They bullied you? Just for being yourself?” He stood up suddenly and paced. “I swear, I’ll—”
You touched his arm. “I don’t want revenge.”
He nodded, slowly. “Okay. Okay. But I do want you to know this: you’re everything. Strong. Brave. And more of a man than any of them will ever be.”
He hugged you so tightly it nearly lifted you off the ground. Then, with a growl: “But just so you know... if they try again, I’m shifting into something with claws.”
Leo Valdez :
Leo went silent—which, for Leo? Terrifying.
“Wait. Someone said that about you?”
He blinked once, twice—and then stood up, grabbing his toolbelt.
“Leo—?”
“Just grabbing a few things,” he said, too calmly. “Nothing big. Maybe a little mechanical justice. Y’know. Hypothetically.”
Then his voice cracked, and he turned back, eyes darker than usual. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because I didn’t want to cause—”
“No. Babe. You matter. Your identity isn’t ‘drama.’ It’s you. It’s real.” He stepped close and put his forehead against yours. “You’ve been through hell just to exist. You think I’m gonna let some punk erase that?”
He grinned again—but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll keep it classy. Just a little public humiliation. With sparkles.”
Octavian :
Octavian smiled.
But not in a good way.
“Interesting,” he said, folding his hands. “Someone thinks they can speak against my partner? In Camp Jupiter?”
You tried to explain you didn’t want trouble. He stood up slowly, like a statue coming to life.
“They will be humbled. Publicly.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Octavian—”
“You,” he said, gently brushing a hand through your hair, “are the most important thing I’ve ever had. And no one—no one—will question your right to exist without consequence.”
The next morning, a camp-wide bulletin appeared: “New Camp Policy: Zero Tolerance For Identity-Based Harassment. Violators will be transferred. Or cursed.”
And Octavian? Didn’t stop smiling for a week.
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Hello! Sorry for not writing any rules; I don't really have any right now. Thanks for requesting this, too. I've never written about trans people, and this has opened my mind (sorry if my English isn't good or if it sounded offensive).
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fullofwoe5321 · 2 days ago
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Weyler Nation! A quick WS2 Part 2 - I forgot to talk about 2 important points about Wednesday's arc.
SPOILER ALERT: MORE QUESTIONS THAN ANSWERS!
Yeah, I know the last part is about Tyler and I am already writing. But I swear the points of today are important to Weyler. Check it out:
1- The killer cuts Wednesday's eyes out of the pic:
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This is creepy af! I wonder why they do that...
The first thing which came up to my mind was about removing the eyes can symbolize the killer’s desire to control how Wednesday sees the world, or to eliminate her ability to "see" him, metaphorically or literally. Eyes are often seen as the "windows to the soul," so damaging them can represent domination over her identity or essence.
I also thought about the killer may want Wednesday to be “blind” to something perhaps their identity, actions, or plans. Symbolically removing her eyes implies a desire to keep secrets or maintain dominance through secrecy.
I mean the fact that the killer might know about Wednesday's black tears and the fact he is removing her eyes out of pics is very specific. WHAT DOES HE WANT? DOES HE KNOW ABOUT HER FAMILY SECRET?
Now pay attention:
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The frame with the pair of glasses and Wednesday with an eyeball on this specific position made me think with the possibility of the Killer may be removing the eyes of the victims and THIS WOULD BE INSANE!!! I wonder if the killer wants to possess Wednesday's powers somehow. or if the killer is herself as I theorized: WHY IS SHE DOING THAT? DOES SHE WANT TO GET RID OF HER POWERS?
BUT every cloud has silver lining.
2- The Fencing
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It's really curious they have showed Wednesday and Morticia fencing blindfolded. It's a foreshadowing.
My theory is that there will be a point that Wednesday cant trust herself or her vision anymore. I'm guessing she will need to trust PEOPLE and that's something that challenges the core of who she is and forces her to confront both her greatest fear and her greatest flaw. To trust is to go against her very nature.
and here I'm already going to spoiler you with some Weyler content..
From Season 1, Wednesday is fiercely independent, hyper-rational, and emotionally guarded. She sees vulnerability as weakness and often mocks emotional connection.
Trusting others means surrendering control, something she hates.
To trust someone, she’d have to believe they won’t betray her, lie to her, or fail her. And that belief is antithetical to how she views the world: cold, deceptive, and dangerous. AND WITH WHOM SHE'S GOING TO TEAM UP ?
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With her ex who is unpredictable, manipulative, dangerous and unreliable. Can you imagine how it sounds insane to Wednesday to trust Tyler again? But here I say: I don't think she will trust he's not going to disappoint her again(maybe she is already expecting a deceptive move by him). SHE WILL TRUST HE'S NOT GONNA KILL HER. HOW? Food for thought.
Her powers are tied to isolation and pain. Her psychic visions are triggered by touch and intense emotion.These powers are both a gift and a burden, and they’ve made her feel different, even among outcasts. She sees herself as a loner wolf because being close to others, emotionally or physically, is painful. And Tyler traumatized her! Mark my words!
Trusting others would mean accepting the pain of connection as something necessary, not avoidable.
Season 2 is clearly pushing her toward internal transformation, not just solving mysteries. The external threat mirrors the internal one: someone who tries to steal or manipulate her essence. To defeat the kiler, not just physically, but symbolically, she must become stronger in the one way She never could: by forming real human bonds.
That makes trust the climax of her arc. If she can’t open up, she stays powerful but emotionally hollow. If she does open up — she becomes whole.
and now, Weylers:
Trust Is the gateway to legacy. Morticia and Gomez trust each other completely. The Addams family thrives on loyalty.
Wednesday is heir to this emotional intelligence, but she's rejected it ... until now. The fact Hunter Doohan/Tyler had popped out in a sneak peek introducing the Addams family members still lives rent free in my head.
It's crazy how Hunter is voicing over the classic tango dancing of Morticia and Gomez and he is seated at the same scenario where Catherine and Luiz were being interviewed! Did Tyler and Wednesday's dance end for real?
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Will they dance or die? LOL
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At least it means Tyler is truly connected with Wednesday and her family? HOW??? August, please!!!!!! We need you now!
HEAR ME OUT! SHE WILL NEED TO TRUST EVERYBODY INCLUDING TYLER! TYLER IS HER ULTIMATE CHALLENGE!
Her growth into her role as someone with power and insight requires her to learn what her parents already know: power without connection leads to destruction. Trust isn't just Wednesday's test: it's her transformation.
By learning to trust, she risks the one thing she's always protected: her independence. But by doing so, she may finally evolve from a brilliant, lonely observer of the world... into someone who belongs in it.
Ok, I won't promise the part 3 for today, because I'm stil writing it BUT it will come. Don't worry.
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What do u guys think? Let me know your thoughts.
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comicslina · 2 days ago
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HELLO, FRENS. Let's talk!!
Note: This is primarily for Jason fans, but some of it applies to Helena's fans, too. So pay attention. Please.
(So far I've completely avoided using the Helena tags on Tumblr out of respect, and I haven't even LOOKED because I know most of the posts from the past week would make a geiger counter scream.)
tl;dr- We FINALLY have a writer for Jason who can or might want to write him how we've been begging for all this time. Fellow fans and hyperfixaters, we must NOT fuck this up for ourselves.
Already, according to the writer's social media: "Comics people are so interesting. I've had hundreds of them ask me if I'm going to do a bad job writing these characters, like maybe I'm some kind of literary demon out to ruin their lives."
If you've been doing this, STOP. APOLOGIZE. You will METAPHORICALLY SEND FLOWERS. 🔪
Fiction is important, but real life breathing people are MORE important.
Let us be a fandom people WANT to write for.
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You have fears, you have questions, doubts. You want to quiz the author on her values and knowledge. We have been burned for YEARS by writing that makes our fave look stupid and perpetuates crappy narratives. Haters abound, writers don't care about him and his fans, and now we have a new book announced that's promising us everything we've been wanting and everyone is screaming because we scared.
CHILL for a minute.
IF you reach out to the author- which you should think twice, maybe thrice about, maybe don't do it at all- you will be RESPECTFUL. You will be POLITE. You will not SPAM or FLAME or MAKE DEMANDS. You will be a MODEL FAN.
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We will become THE BEST FUCKING FANDOM TO WRITE FOR, and give this writer THE MOST PLEASANT FUCKING FANDOM EXPERIENCE IN THE HISTORY OF COMIC BOOK FANDOM BULLSHIT.
You will understand that NOT EVERYONE WANTS THE SAME THING for Jason and Helena, and that is okay. We all have perfect versions of these characters in our heads. It's why we have fanfiction. Jason's fandom in particular has built several competing Platonic Ideals of Jason Todd in our heads, and we get pissed each time DC fails to approach even one of them.
But that might actually change. We might get CLOSER.
"But its pro-cop-"
The author is vocally ACAB.
"Helena deserves better she's being treated like an object-"
The author is a TRANS WOMAN who is VOCALLY FEMINIST and LEFTIST. It might be Jason's book, but this author is FAR more likely to treat her with respect than, say, fucking LOBDELL. We don't even know what Jason and Helena's relationship is going to look like. That cover might have nothing to do with it. Covers do that. I am personally down for it if it's done well, but I'm a horny bitch.
And being trans means she has been Through Some Shit, so she probably gets it. (Whys and hows of Jason and Helena's trauma.)
"The Huntress and Red Hood fandoms hate eachother-"
Grow up. What are you, 6? People like the characters they like for myriad reasons. I imprinted on Jason first, and he is a hot man, so I'm more interested in him than Helena. That doesn't mean I don't think Huntress is cool or that she doesn't deserve good books. DC has done both characters dirty, but this series might be a jumping off point for both of them.
"But my ship-"
We are not in control. I want them to make out sloppy-style after a tense, issues-long standoff. Doesn't mean I'm going to get it or that it's going to happen the way I want. Many people hate this idea. Treasure your fanfiction.
And Helena makes a lot of thematic sense for the story, regardless of romance. The two characters have interesting parallels to explore and haven't interacted much, so it's fresh ground. Having another character would mean telling a very different kind of story.
"But the helmet-"
We all love the helmet. We might even get it back one day. But not at the moment, because they're trying something different, and if losing the helmet is the price we have to pay for better writing, than so be it.
"I don't like the art-"
Bummer! Treat the artist with the same level of respect as this post demands for the writer.
"I didn't like her take on Jason in Beast World-"
We're always calling Jason "Potential Man," but with this author- and a black label- we might ACTUALLY get something good. By that I mean something that isn't made to prop up Batman and his values and make Jason look bad in comparison. Something that appears to have considerate thought put into it. She'll be somewhat bound by editorial, but she's still got WAY more leeway.
Me neither. To me he does what he does to protect the weak from experiencing what he has, not takes his day out on them. But that take might change, and if this new book starts out that way, it may not end that way. Regardless. You will be PLEASANT. If you are PLEASANT, maybe she will seek us out and LISTEN.
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Lets support her.
"What if I don't like it? What if it's the same crap all over again?"
Again, you will BE POLITE. You will NOT HARASS THE CREATORS. Vote with your wallet. Write a letter. It's happened before, it will probably happen again in the future.
We will live.
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I know absolutely for sure there will be features of it I probably won't like, because I am not on the editorial staff to force my opinion. It will be the same for most of us. It sucks, but at the end of the day it's still a comic book, and we'll always have fanwork.
There's a lot of crap happening out in the world right now. Don't add to it.
Peace. Be good, kids! ❤️
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gingerteafairy · 1 day ago
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Heyyyyy! Is it possible for you to write where reader is pregnant, just found out and stuff like that? I’d love to see any character but I love Luke, Todd, Colin, Peter❤️❤️
oh, geez. baby fever is gonna kill me someday...
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luke cooper x reader
tags n warnings: fluff, language. word count: +700
Things had been off lately — and it hadn’t escaped your boyfriend’s notice for a second. People liked to say Luke Cooper was laid-back to a fault, but they’d be shocked at how closely he watched over you — his uncle, especially, never stopped teasing him about it. One of the first odd things he picked up on was how often you’d excuse yourself to the bathroom several times during movies, locking the door so he wouldn’t hear a thing. That alone was strange; normally, no matter how bad the movie was, you’d cuddle with him till the credits rolled.
But one evening, you’d been gone so long he felt a knot of worry in his chest. Against his better judgment, he padded over and knocked gently on the bathroom door.
“Babe?” His voice was soft at first, but his hand hovered nervously over the handle when he heard a muffled sob from inside.
He tried again, more urgent now. “Hey… open up. Please?”
When there was still no answer, he twisted the knob — surprised to find it unlocked — and pushed the door open. His heart dropped at the sight of you curled up on the bathroom floor, your shoulders shaking as you cried.
“Hey, hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He dropped to his knees beside you without a second thought, wrapping his arms around you protectively. You couldn’t even speak — the fear of his reaction lodged in your throat like a stone. Hands trembling, you just pointed at the small plastic stick on the floor.
Luke followed your gesture, and when his eyes landed on the positive pregnancy test, his mind scrambled for every movie scene he’d ever seen like this. But this was real. You were pregnant.
“Oh my God…” he breathed out, reaching for the test with shaky fingers. Your stomach twisted, terrified he might freak out or worse — leave.
“It’s… is it mine?” he blurted, eyes flicking to yours, wide and terrified.
“What?!” you squeaked, letting out a startled laugh despite yourself. “Who else would it be, Luke?”
“I dunno!” He laughed too, but it was high-pitched and strained, as if he’d short-circuited. “You’re gorgeous, okay? What if there’s some — I don’t know — Arnold Schwarzenegger dude in the picture or something and I’m just… me?”
You blinked at him, half amused, half exasperated. “Seriously? You think I’d cheat on you?”
“No! No, no, no — shit, I’m sorry — I didn’t mean—” He ran a hand through his hair, guilt flashing in his eyes. “It’s just — you’ve been so distant and weird lately and you wouldn’t tell me why. I thought maybe you realized I’m… well, a pain in the ass, and found someone better.”
“Oh, Luke…” You sniffled, pushing yourself up so you were kneeling too, cupping his face in your hands. His skin was warm and he was trembling just as much as you. “If I’d known you were this scared of losing me, I’d never have kept this from you.”
“Of course I’m scared,” he whispered, his eyes softening as he brought a hand up to cradle your cheek. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there. “But why didn’t you tell me, baby? I was worried sick.”
“Because… you always say you don’t want kids.” You murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes dropped to the floor. “I thought you’d leave.”
“Ah, fuck. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, pulling you into a tight hug again, burying his face in your neck. He pulled back just enough to meet your teary eyes. “I didn’t plan for this, but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna love what’s ours, sweetheart. I love you. And I’m gonna love this baby too. So much.”
“Really?” Your eyes brimmed with fresh tears, a shaky smile spreading across your face when he nodded, his forehead resting against yours.
“Really. No more secrets, okay?” He smiled through his own watery eyes and kissed you deeply, his thumb brushing away your tears. “Thank you. Really. Because now I get to be Don Vito Corleone.”
“Oh God, Luke…” you groaned with a laugh, hiding your face in your hands.
“What?!” he chuckled, his voice bright with relief and warmth. “The Corleones are one of the most iconic families in cinema history. I take my references seriously, babe.”
You could only shake your head, laughing breathlessly as he helped you up from the floor. True to his style, he made sure to show his gratitude the only way he knew how: cuddling you on the couch under a blanket, The Godfather playing in the background, and his arms wrapped tight around you — exactly where you belonged.
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itsnotthesamewithoutyou · 2 days ago
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who i think is dying s5
won't die:
hopper won't die, he already "died" once and it would make no sense to re-kill him
lucas or max won't die (no point in not giving them their movie date if it's already been set up as a plot point. plus they've already "killed" max, now her plot consists of recovering, they won't re-kill her. also they'll call them racist if lucas dies he's the only black one literally)
mike won't die, it serves no purpose, he needs to resolve his issues with will and el and his internal issues and to make that a plot point and go through all the trouble to resolve it only to kill him later would make no sense also byler endgame
will won't die, they already made him the saddest kid in the entire series and it would be unsatisfying to not give him a finally happy ending. this is also why i think characters like joyce or jonathan aren't that likely to die, they've already given will enough shit and they'll give him more in s5 regarding his connection to vecna so i doubt they'll take away his family as well.
joyce won't die, winona is the face of the show
robin/vickie won't die or they'll call them homophobic
holly: i'm sure they'll find her and she'll be important to the plot after she's found.
might die (except i mostly don't think so):
eleven: i'm very mixed on this one. could happen because her connection to the ud/it's the only way blah blah, however i think she also suffered a lot and needs a happy ending :( plus she's literally what you think of when you think stranger things, but the writers might not agree, after all she did have SOME happy moments unlike will, and millie's "i saw my ending and walked away very slowly" kinda points to that. BUT at the same time, it would be pretty terrible to take ANOTHER daughter away from hopper and he'd never recover, and they won't kill hopper so i'm leaning more towards her not dying for some reason
despite what i said before jonathan might die, there's nothing impeding it that would make it shit writing, but i don't think it'll happen tbh will's had enough
nancy: i feel like it serves no purpose but she could, why not. nothing stopping it
steve: honestly the duffers have a history of changing the show a lot for the fans, so maybe not just because he's THE fan favorite, but at the same time for that same reason it would be really heartbreaking and maybe they'll use that to their advantage. however, might happen ONLY if dustin dies, because otherwise they won't take away another of his friends (he already went through eddie dying)
ted: it could be that scene of karen hugging holly as they look at something scared and would explain the leaked pics of mike having a talk with hopper, maybe as a father figure. however it would be kind of an empty plot point who cares about ted
karen: she could but i feel like it does nothing for mike's character
dying
dustin: 100% dead
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windmill-for-the-land · 2 days ago
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Some parts of Deltarune feel like a huge love letter to gaming urban legends and myths and i love that about it sooooo much Noelle's interest in searching for creepy easter eggs, secrets and glitches in video games hits so close to home that it might make her my favorite character.
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LIKE???? Look a her blog??? She's just like me when i was kid fr. I remember looking for bigfoot, sea monsters, and stuff like that in gta 5 with my cousin when i was a kid or i'd be watching people trying to find Herobrine and the 17th Colossus, or i would go looking for the Lumiose city ghost and the "secret Missingno easteregg" that you could find in an alleyway in Lumiose city(does anyone remember this one?).
This story from her blog hits even harder than the others though
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Im sure many kids got into situations like this as a kid, going out of bounds, being softlocked, and generally getting so scared at a video game that you'd end up turning it off, either by accident or intentionally. Like, when i was like, 10 or something, i did that "Void" glitch in Pokemon Diamond to try to catch Darkrai without hacking, but ended up softocking my game and making my character be permanantly stuck wandering in the endless, dark, and empty void...
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(This kind of haunted me as a kid, because i kept thinking about my character stuck in there, even after deleting the save file.)
And Deltarune doesnt reference the myth and glitch hunting culture only through Noelle. The secret bosses, eggs and the "weird route" all capture the feeling of looking for secrets(usually with some creepy feel to them) in a video game SPECIALLY in chapter 3 The secret room you get teleported to alone without warning after putting exactly 1225 points into the prize machine, that is clearly unfinished and let's you walk on air. Having to wander aimlessly until you find the machine that gives you a strange triangle and a really creepy message about not being able to find your own hand, this gave me chills when first getting to it, and i only found out about it thorough word of mouth of someone saying "Something interesting happens if you input 1225 into the machine"
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This whole game segment had me on edge on my first playthrough, it does such a good job on feeling like something you're not supposed to find, something that is so different from the game's usual tone that it REALLY shouldn't be here. With so many glitches, having to go out of bounds to progress, and getting creepier and creepier as you go on(I even found some easter eggs in it on my second playthrough.) When the game started referencing the snowgrave route, and Noelle's blog stories, i was creeped tf out, i though the game knew i played snowgrave and was breaking the 4th wall on my regular save to get me on edge. IT EVEN ENDS WITH A CHARACTER COMING OUT OF THE SCREEN AND ATTACKING KRIS IN "REAL LIFE"
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It feels like i was playing as someone literally playing through a creepypasta if that makes sense. And speaking of creepypastas, the Snowgrave route is constantly described as one, and i totally agree. You have to go so out of your way and break the game in weird ways, that most people only heard about it from word of mouth, i wish i was in the fandom in the day, as far as i heard, most people didn't believe the first reports of the weird route, and i cant even blame them! Its sooo unexpected, you could write what happens and what you have to do to trigger it and post it in the gaming creepypasta wiki and i wouldn't even bat an eye! And then you have chapter 4.
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This scene got me SOO bad, the weird route does so many creepy things that sound completely insane when put to text but are actually in the game. This is why i think maybe the Deltarune fandom should just make things up when a new chapter comes out lol. At this point, i think the weird route and some of the other secrets might start to lose some of their magic, because you're no longer wondering if they're true or not, you know they are, this game already has so many unexpected secrets that most people dont doubt anything. Whats the fun of searching for Bigfoot in Gta if you know it isnt real, or searching for the 17th Colossus in Shadow of the Colossus if you know it isn't in the game's code, that Herobrine isnt actually watching you in your world? Same goes for myths you know are 100% true, part of the magic is gone, its not some creepy unexplained sighting, its just something added by the developers, it becomes normal, expected I know that most of this is the experience of growing up, games become less magical in general, everything has to have an explanation. But in a game like Deltarune that already embraces myth and easter egg hunting, and even hides secrets in the games code, anything could be real without an obvious explanation. Maybe it would be fun to spread some rumors during the first few days of a chapters release, it would be pretty harmless, and it since the chapter would have just released, it wouldn't get ruined by data mining, you'd have to get out there and hunt for the mysteries like back in the day, to try to debunk or prove them.
Though that maybe would be annoying to some people, specially wiki members, but i think it'd be worth it for the whimsy and mysteris it'd create!
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sapphosscribe · 1 day ago
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Great answer about how you manage to write consistently. Um, just one question - how do you write with ADHD? Maybe it's just me, but sometimes when I try to write it just comes out unnatural, I don't know where I'm going with my thoughts (even when I know exactly what I want to describe sometimes the words just won't come together) or I'm just describing without putting emotions in. And after like 20 minutes of doing so I MUST switch to a YouTube video, preferably a MV/performance video.
Also a huge issue for me - I feel like if I just sit down to do it then I'll forget that everything else around me exists and I just... Won't do the "necessary shit" (aka school/job, chores, etc.), but I still procrastinate on Necessary Shit™ and end up doomwatching YouTube. It's like I'm afraid to live my life to the fullest just to do this exact thing, but if at least feels safer??? Hate it!
This is SOOO relatable 😫.
Honestly trying to do ANYTHING with ADHD is not for the faint of heart.
Planning, planning, planning. I CANNOT stress enough how insanely helpful it is for me to have not only a plan for the story, but a plan for each individual chapter.
I try to aim for the sweet spot between planning so intricately there’s no room to let it breathe and just allowing the characters to do whatever to the degree I’ve completely lost the plot 😂😂.
I’d say the issues you’re having with describing without emotions or rambling is something I resolve in two different ways.
1) I look to my characters. Just like real life, no one in the scene is just standing around existing. They have their own thoughts, feelings, and motivations about what’s going on around them. I refer to this in my head as letting the story breathe. The characters often have a mind of their own. Sometimes I’ll realize that, based on something already established about their background, they’d be acting in a certain way or do something different then what I have planned and it helps make it feel more authentic. Keeping in mind what your characters want and what they’re actively trying to achieve in each scene can help with descriptors.
2) This might be a hot take but, honestly, let yourself ramble. Sometimes I’ll think I’m saying way too much much stuff in a chapter or the pacing is off, then I’ll go back and read it and it’s perfectly fine. I think of it like cooking food. It can take over an hour to bake something and it feels exhausting and like you’ve made a lot of mistakes along the way, but it’s just because you’re standing there measuring things out and adding ingredients. When you actually TASTE what you’ve cooked it all blends together into something much simpler.
No matter what you say, you can always clean it up in editing. The first draft is just you telling yourself the story and even if some of it turns out not to be usuable, you’ve probably learned something about your characters that will help you write them better later on.
This might also sound really weird but the way I structure my chapters and story follows the formula you might use to write an essay 😂😂
Before I do anything else with my story. I pick a theme, something that I’m trying to say/prove, the point of the whole thing, and I treat the rest of the story as evidence for that theme.
Each Act is a big piece of ‘evidence’ to support my theme and then each chapter in the arc follows emotional and plot beats to create that evidence.
Since Act 1 is already over I can use it as an example, though I’m not giving away the story’s overall theme. You can figure that out.😉
My big piece of evidence in Act 1 or my ‘big thought’ that connects to the main theme is “Bill’s current moral bankruptcy isn’t from a place of outright malice, but unprocessed trauma”. Then I planned out the structure to prove it: Bill crashing out spectacularly while trapped in human form by self harming, his relationship with Mabel forming transactionally, Bill trying to control Ford because Bill feels like he needs that to feel secure rather than having an equal partnership, The Axolotl and the first few flashbacks giving context to some of Bill’s actions, and closing out with the big moment between Ford and Bill at the party where he admits he cares about Ford for more than just what he could get from him.
Once I’m satisfied that I’m building the story toward what I’m trying to prove. I move on to the next section. So that’s my wild scientific method approach to big writing projects or even small ones!
As for the “forgetting to do necessary shit”. I set timers for how long I’m going to do what I’m doing and, once they go off, I give myself a few minutes to finish up whatever I’m working on and switch tasks. You can also use this in other areas of life. It’s been super helpful for me when balancing out work and leisure, but if it doesn’t work for you that’s fine too. Everyone’s different.
Procrastinating on “Necessary but unpleasant shit” I try to minimize by making it fun somehow. I plan my schedule a day in advance so I know what’s coming and if it’s a task I find difficult I try to add some element of fun to it. I turn on music or an audiobook when I clean and cook or wear an outfit that makes me feel good. I personally HATE exercising, so I bought a tiny treadmill and instead of sitting watching tv in the evenings, I put the tiny treadmill down and walk on it while watching something I like.
I also try to reframe thinking about the things I don’t want to do in a positive way. Folding the laundry means I get it out of my chair I like to sit in and read books. Vacuuming the floor is getting rid of bad energy and making the carpet soft again. Try to approach things as an adventure rather than a chore. Some stuff can be harder than others to grapple with, but, to quote the jogging Monkey in Bojack Horseman “Every day it gets a little easier, but you’ve got to do it every day. That’s the hard part. But it does get easier.”
Not to get all philosophical, but we only do have this one life. Even if it’s quiet and ordinary or hard sometimes, it’s better to try not to hate it or see just going through your day as something to dread. I’ve found that there’s actually a lot of tiny little things to love around every corner if you go looking for them.
If new things are making you uncomfortable, try what I like to call ‘safe spontaneity’. If I get unsatisfied with what I’m doing I’ll do something small that’s new and adds variety. Try out a new restaurant or a new type of food for one meal. Take 30min-1hr to learn about something that interests you outside of what you normally look at (I say having just finished two documentaries about Oceangate 😅😅). Find tiny ways to switch things up so you still have predictably and structure, but you add something new and grow your world a tiny bit more. Even if you end up hating whatever it is, at least you know you don’t like it and not to do it again! Allow yourself to grow and change at your own pace 🥰💗💗.
This was REALLY long and probably too much information, but I hope it helped!
@anon-22866634
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wistericaine · 3 days ago
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ruined oat milk | theodore nott
serial killer!theo x writer!reader | fluff but in a dark way | wc: 582
summary: writer!reader confronts theo about the dead head in the fridge
tw: mentions/references to death
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“You have about two seconds to explain exactly what is going on here.”
Theodore looked at what was inside of the fridge with a blue tint washing over his face, fear and dread running through his veins at the sight.
He hadn’t wanted to keep the head away from their home. Away from the fridge and disposed of somewhere else. Yet he had to bring it home last night, where it now rested beside the oat milk jug.
Would this mean that you and him were done? Were you going to pack your bags—expose him to the Aurors and turn him in? Theo’s heart was pounded against his chest in dread, not wanting you to leave him ever. His mind was racing with dependance, thinking about all of the ways that he would have to keep you with him. Maybe a mind altering spell of sorts, something that would remove your memory of it. 
“I can explain—” he stuttered out.
“I don’t care about how you got the head, I already know about that—” you said, waving your hands around before pointing at the milk jug. “I’m asking you to explain why you brought it here. Into our kitchen fridge—I mean, do you know how dangerous that is?”
Theo’s mouth opened to continue his explanation, going to spit out word after word to convince you to stay, before it shut right after. “You—” he murmured quietly. “You know?”
“Of course I know,” you said to him. “You keep your journal near the couch all the time—your handwriting is very pretty by the way—but I needed some research for my writing.” you said to him. “I’m not sure how I didn’t see it earlier to be honest, especially with how much you know about killing.”
“Well—” he stuttered out again, “Wait, do you not care?”
“You kill Death Eaters, I really don’t care about them much. What I do care about is the fact that there’s a decapitated head sitting next to my oat milk!” you whined out, waving your hands dramatically to gesture at the head once more. “My oat milk is going to be forever ruined because of this—and I really wanted to make tea. You have five seconds to explain this.”
Theodore looked at you with a look one could only consider religious—though a religious man might consider him blasphemous with the way he wanted to worship you instead of God. “You are the best woman I have ever met in my life.” he murmured in awe.
“This isn’t helping my oat milk.” you said, poking his stomach. “Speak.”
He chuckled quietly, wrapping his arms around you as he looked over at the head in the fridge. “I was going to dispose of it earlier—there’s something specific in there that I think might help me find more Death Eaters.” he explained quietly, hands squeezing his arms in anxiety. “Though I suppose sleep deprivation causes you to confuse fridges.”
“You better get me new oat milk.” you said, shaking your head. 
“I feel like we’re brushing past the whole ‘I’m a murderer’ part of this conversation.” Theodore muttered out confusedly. “How are you not bothered by this?”
You shrugged confusedly—and Theodore was positive that you probably didn’t know yourself. “I’m a writer, you’re a resource.” you explained to him. “Plus, how else would I get accurate descriptions if it weren’t for you.”
“Ah, so I’m becoming your scientific journal.” he chuckled quietly to you.
You giggled and nodded. “Course you are.”
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hello everyone, i hope you guys enjoyed! just another small drabble here! i thought i'd write something about how writer!reader confronts theo about being a killer, but if you want i can write a fic about how she finds out herself <3 thanks so much for reading!
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pokimoko · 2 years ago
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haunting the narrative -> haunted by the narrative -> haunting the narrative -> haunted by
#adventure time#fionna and cake#simon petrikov#betty grof#petrigrof#fan art#fanart#art#digital art#my art#just a lil something something i did for fun#adventure time has always been the show that makes me want to draw (i have SO many AT drawings from 2015 it's ridiculous)#but now I'm coming back to that ye olde passion with new digital art skills and many more evil tragic thoughts (thank you fionna and cake🙏)#i couldn't get the thought about them haunting and be haunted by the narrative out of my head so I had to make some art for it#the caption for this was almost: so who wears the haunted by the narrative in the relationship?#they take turns of course because damn these guys really do be having that tragic romance huh. hot potato cursed existence#never quite on the same wavelength. always out of reach. their love the very thing that dooms them to be apart. a love defined by absences#like two ships in the night passing each other by. except they keep trying to seek the other out. and so end up going in circles#the tragic dance of madness and sadness. lead on and i shall follow. ....so anyway...these two amiright?#/might/ have to write something at some point...maybe...#because like... ghosts are my thing. and these two...well. even when they aren't haunting the narrative they are still ghosts#never let themselves live in the present and okay I'm going to stop now. enjoy the art byeeeee#...AND they'll never be at peace because they'll always be reaching for a version of each other that no longer exists and—#(i am dragged kicking and screaming from the room before i can devolve into a full blown meta)
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