#I remember seeing this on pinterest years ago. help me

[moonbakeries]

HOW I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE IN A WEEK

BACKSTORY

So I decided to fully immerse myself in "persisting" and fulfilling when I listened to Lonely one by LOVA because I spent around an hour just sobbing because I related to the song.

the week that I started was around Easter break and I was under the most amount of stress I have ever been through and I could see it the effects on my body

I was breaking out with huge pimples even though I was on accutane, I was averaging 2 hours of sleep a day every week for 2 weeks, my period had going on for 2 weeks, I was losing weight rapidly (was under 35kg:( ) my anxiety was at an all time high because I got harassed again(sexual assault victim). I used to have severe depression and have had multiple failed attempts of suicide. AND YES I WAS DESPERATE AS FUCK TO MANIFEST THIS DREAM LIFE OF MINE WHICH IS NO LONGER A DREAM

in the mornings I would be super anxious but I learned how to deal with it and get myself into the state super easily

HOW I DID IT

I GOT OFF TUMBLR: you know how many times I doubted myself only to realise I was doing everything right

I also read and listened to Edward Art MULTIPLE TIMES

Within a week of fulfilling and persisting, I had manifested my dream life. just like that. I woke up one morning and everything I had ever desired was right there. and it was super easy.

all I did was affirm(to remind not to get), visualise and feel. I would only do these methods if I wanted to, if I didn't I wouldn't.

Within a few days, the anxiety lessened so much and it started to feel natural. 

this was a question on Bambi's " how I manifested with hard circumstances " post which has now been sadly deleted but I remember copying this because it gave me hope at the time I copied it (don't hope, just know)

"But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?” you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track.  I rant for 2% of my 24 hour days. The other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and I felt more at ease. I held onto that feeling because I knew this was when I would get my desires and I did."

and that was when I knew I shouldn't give up and I just kept going even when I wanted myself to just get on tumblr and overconsume 

I actually nearly decided to see what I was "doing wrong". I clicked on one of Aphrodite's posts but I didn't read it. I just asked myself if I would look through it if I had my desires and I wouldn't and since I already have all of my desires I didn't.

Whenever the anxiety was too strong and I could feel the frustration and desperation building up, I would just rant and it helped me calm down and get back into the state super easily.

why?

because STATES MANIFEST THOUGHTS DON'T

which is why you can rant.

you know how many FUCKING DOUBTS I had, but I didn't even give them attention coz they didn't deserve any and how many times I wanted to just give up, but I was like NO, STFU, I DON'T WANNA LIVE MISERABLY ANYMORE and now I'm not :)

The affirmations I used:

It is done

I am living my dream life

I am in my desired reality

The 3d will conform as long as i keep persisting

Imagination is the real reality

I also daydreamed, but since imagination is the real reality they were real

WHAT I MANIFESTED

- desired appearance

- name change

- family change

- skills (drivers licence etc)

- apartment and furniture

- wealth

- a bunch of random materialistic things

- desired friend group (I absolutely love them!)

- desired uni and always getting good grades

- outfits from pinterest

and a bunch of other things

- I also ended up manifesting an sp without even knowing and he's pretty much I everything I scripted him to be(scripted a year ago because I didn't really care for a relationship) but this happened before I manifested my dream life

after a year and half of being on loablr I finally manifested my dream life. and you can too

(there was probably over 100 things I wanted but I realised what I want is not much, nothing ever is when you know about loa and yes, i was super desperate)

you don't need anymore information other than @angelsinluv states post and fulfillment challenge

you shouldn't ever be stressed or worried while manifesting whatever you want, because you wouldn't stress if you had it

TAKE YOUR TIME

YOU GOT THIS

[waywardcrow]

All eyes on us.

Summary: This wedding needs to happen, it's the only way you can protect the ones you love, the only problem is that you're in love with your husband-to-be and he would never love you back.

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Stark!reader.

TW: Really not so many, talks of murder but very lightly, mentions of mysogyny, implications of mafia kind of stuff, death of parents, mention of future smut, curvy!reader, no mention of y/n and reader's nickname is Bells (context coming soon), kind of enemies to lovers but not really enemies, arranged marriage, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

Part of the Yours to lose series.

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Everyone was waiting for her but she kept looking at herself in the mirror.

The wedding dress was beautiful, Pepper told her it was what Maria Stark –her mother- wore in her own wedding day and she loved it, the silk was too soft, hugging her curves with an ethereal touch and it had a subtle scent that she assumed belonged to the mother she couldn't remember.

Tony swore their mother loved her, their father too, the young bride couldn’t help but doubt it, they would not love her if they could see her now about to get married to a man who didn’t love her back, a man who humiliated her once for his pride, someone who probably only wanted what this arrangement could give him back.

How would she survive this marriage when it was impossible to leave the room and get to the Cathedral?

A knock in the door pulled her out of her mind, finding Natasha smiling at her in the reflection of the mirror.

“Are you ready, dear?” her friend knew the real answer but still gave her the chance to speak.

“I was about to go” she lied and the redhead gave her a knowing look “everyone it’s waiting, isn’t it?”

“You’re the bride, honey, they can wait” Natasha walked to her, looking like a goddess in her silver dress and put her arms around the bride’s body “you can say no, we can fight Russo’s father, hell, Billy would love having one more excuse to kill him.”

She was sure Billy would do it, not only for her but for his sister, for Madani and for himself but it wasn’t time yet, the alliances needed to be settled, Stark and Barnes had to fight alongside to kill Pierce and Carlo Russo. She made all that mess before getting her family back and nobody would take them from her, never again.

“It has to be done, Nat” she put the veil in her head and took the beautiful bouquet Becca left for her earlier “let’s go.”

Her friend must have seen something in her eyes that made her nod.

“Alright, Bells. Let’s do this” her nickname, the one Yelena gave her when they met years ago, made her smile, who could ever thought that knocking someone out with Christmas bells will change her life?

Natasha guided her trough the corridors to the waiting room where Tony was talking in a hushed tone with Pepper, her sister-in-law radiant with her baby bump, reminding her why this alliance needed to happen.

“I’d be waiting outside, dear” Nat kissed her cheek and went to take her place with the other bridesmaids.

Tony was staring at her, pale like a ghost, whispering his sister's name. It wasn’t the first time in the last months Bells was told how much alike she was with his mother, their mother but this time Tony didn’t say anything, just looked at her eyes to find determination that matched his concern.

“Everything it’s beautiful, Peps, thank you” the bride said and the ginger smiled with a hint of sadness barely visible.

“It’s the least I could do for you, topolina. You deserve beautiful things” she never had a mother, not that she could remember, but with Pepper there she could feel like she did.

Pepper gave her husband a gentle squeeze in the arm and went to join the rest of the guest.

“I have Frank ready to go, say the word and we leave” his first words almost made her chuckle, he spent the last fifteen days planning ways to get her out of this but Bells always refused, a small and stupid part of her happy because she would marry the man she loved.

“I want to do this, Tony, for all of us” that part it was true, this marriage was the only way she could protect him and Pepper and the baby, Billy and Dinah, Frank and Maria and the kids, the family she dreamed about since she was a kid and that she finally had. It also would save her from Carlo Russo’s greedy hands.

Bells knew one or two things about the mob, mostly from movies and for that she was sure the respect from his brother to her choices were more part of his good soul, she heard some stories from Maria that made her want to kill Carlo Russo even more.

True to the man she met not too long ago Tony didn’t fight her, instead he straightened his bow tie and extended an arm out for her to take it.

“Then allow me to walk you down the aisle, signorina, it will be my honour” the charm went back to his eyes and Bells could breathe, if she could count on them, she could do anything.

The music started playing when the wedding planner gave the signal and every one of her friends smiled at her or blew kisses at her before marching down the aisle. From where she was she could see Maria walk with confidence, not sparing a glance to her father who unfortunately was sited next to her brother Billy and Dinah.

Natasha was the last one, looking at her with reassurance one last time before following the others, then it was their turn.

“I love you, topolina”

“Love you too, Tony”

The crowd of guest was an unfocused picture, she only had eyes for the man waiting for her at the altar, wearing a black tux with a new haircut, his long chestnut locks were gone, sending a silly wave of sorrow through her veins.

She loved his hair, in an embarrassing impulse she remembered pulling his long hair to get him to kiss her again when-

Bells stopped herself.

It was dangerous to think about those times, they were gone the minute he saw her as one of his properties and decided to punish her for something she never did.

Bucky’s eyes never left her the whole way to him, drinking her like he was dying of thirst. Steve must have noticed too because he gave him a subtle bump to get him to blink and stop looking like he would commit sacrilege in the middle of the church.

The beautiful glass windows projected a million colors around her when Tony lifted the veil and with a barely visible hesitance put her hand in Bucky’s.

“I’m confident you will protect her with your life, Barnes” was all he said, dead serious when Bucky gave him a solemn nod and her brother kissed her forehead.

With her eyes watching her step, Bells avoided looking at him until it was impossible to keep going.

A soft smile, one she thought she lost forever, resurfaced when their eyes locked and the bride could read what he was thinking.

She was his, always was and always would be and he would never let her go.

I'd do bad things with you >>>

Hiya! I'm super happy to post this story even if I don't know what I'm doing, to be honest I'm not fluent in italian, so here's the translation of the pet names I used:

-topolina: Little mouse.

-signorina: Miss.

If I made a mistake with that, feel free to correct me and tell me what you think! What do you think it will happen?

Love, Lily.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hello,I'm not that anon but why do now I want an alternate version where Reader's the one who doesn't remember Bucky (with a lot of angst)? 😭 You know as she went through life normally and dating other guys while he watches from the side but couldn't do or say anything and can only try to make her remember. I don't know if you're opening requests or not because I didn't see anything in your bio about it. But if you do open requests,can I request this please? 🙏🏼 If you're not opening requests,that's okay,I just wanna share this thought I have while reading it 😭 It was beautiful ❤

Come Back To Me » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Ex Fiancée/Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Ex Fiancée/Avenger!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky has to deal with the fact that you don’t remember him and going on dates with other guys when all he wants is for you to come back to him.

Warnings: mix of Angst and Fluff, language, brief mention of alcohol, crying, flashbacks, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

A/N #2: Flashbacks is in Italic text. I imagined this after Bucky gets back from his recovery in Wakanda.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

Bucky watched with a clenched jaw from the other side of the room as you talked to another man. You laughed and smiled with that man. Something you used to do with Bucky. You and Bucky were engaged years ago, but it ended. Your smile slowly faded away when you seen Bucky looking your way. Bucky’s heart sank when you kissed the guy goodbye before walking away from him.

“Is there something I can help you with, Sergeant? Or are you just going to stand here and stare at me all day?” You asked.

“Nope.” Bucky pops the P. “I was taking a break. I’m going back to work now.” He says before walking out of the room.

He went to the lounge room and sat down on the couch, sighing loudly and ran his fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to himself.

Bucky had his head propped up on his hand as you slept. His free hand caressed your cheek, gently rubbing your cheekbone. Your eyes fluttered open to see your fiancée looking at you.

“Were you watching me sleep?” You asked with a smile giggle.

“No. I’m simply admiring my fiancée’s beauty.” Bucky says softly with a smile.

You blushed and covered your face with the blanket. Bucky uncovered you and got on top of you. He leaned down and placed kisses all over your face, making you laugh uncontrollably.

“You ok?” Steve asks, snapping Bucky out of his thoughts.

“I-” Bucky cleared his throat and stood up. “I’m fine.” He lies, walking past him.

Steve knows when Bucky is lying and when he’s upset. He followed after him and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Buck, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Steve says with concern in his voice.

“I hate seeing my ex fiancée going out with men who aren’t me.” Bucky admits. “I just- I just want her to remember me.” He says.

“She will. Just give her time.” He says, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“70+ years isn’t enough time?” He scoffs, feeling his eyes water. “What would you do if it was Peggy?” He asks. “Sorry.” He apologizes. “I didn’t mean to bring her up like that.” He says.

“It’s ok. It’s a valid question.” He says. “To answer your question, I would surround her with familiar things.” He answers.

That gave Bucky an idea. He gave Steve a smile before walking away to go to his bedroom. He immediately went to his closet, looking for something. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he’ll know once he finds it.

“Come on. Where is it?” Bucky mumbles to himself.

He let out a sigh of relief when he found what he was looking for. It’s the very first picture you and him took together. It’s a picture of you and Bucky kissing sweetly and you two didn’t know his sister took a picture of the two of you.

Rebecca walks in the living room to see Bucky giving you the world’s sweetest kiss. She smiles to herself, happy to see her older brother found someone to make him happy. She seen a camera on the shelf next to her from the corner of her eye. She grabbed the camera and took a picture of the two of you without you guys even knowing. She put the picture on the couch next to you two and quietly walked out of the living room.

Bucky walks in the lobby of the compound to see you about to leave with the man you’re going on a date with. He quickly walked up to you before you walked out the door.

“Agent Y/L/N, you got a minute?” Bucky asks, approaching you.

“Not really.” You say.

“I’ll make it quick.” He says.

You sighed and told your date to wait outside for a moment. Bucky took a second to take in your beauty.

“What is it?” You asked, crossing your arms.

Bucky showed you the picture of you and him kissing without saying a word. You looked at the picture, studying it, but nothing came to your mind.

“Who are those people?” You asked Bucky.

“You and me.” He tells you. “My sister took this picture when we weren’t paying attention.” He explains.

“I can clearly see that’s me. I don’t know what you’re trying to get at, Sergeant, but we were never together and we will never be together. Now if you’ll excuse me, my date is waiting for me.” You say.

Bucky stood there, watching you walk hand and hand with another man. He felt his anger bubbling up inside of him. Before he knew it, his vibranium fist went through the wall. Steve rounded the corner a few seconds later and looked at the hole in the wall before looking at his best friend.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky apologizes. “I’ll pay to get that fixed.” He says.

“Don’t worry about it.” Steve says softly.

Bucky stormed away and went to the kitchen to get a beer. He opened it and drank almost half of it. Steve walked in the kitchen at the same time as Sam.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sam curiously asks Bucky.

“Y/N still doesn’t remember me.” Bucky said.

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through, man, but just give her time.” He says.

“You’re not the first person to say that to me today.” He says, taking another sip of his beer.

Sam seen the picture of you and Bucky on the kitchen counter and picked it up, looking at it.

“You two looked so happy.” Sam says.

“We are- I mean were.” Bucky corrects himself. “She was the love of my life and still is.” He tells him. “I just want her to come back to me.” He says.

Bucky walked away and took the picture with him. He went back to his room, putting the picture on his nightstand before laying down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Before he knew it, he drifted off to sleep.

“Please be careful.” You tell Bucky.

“I’ll try my best, doll.” Bucky says softly.

Bucky leaned in and kissed you passionately and sweetly. That’s when an Army officer said it was time to go.

“I love you, doll.” He whispers.

“I love you more, Buck.” You whispered back.

Bucky woke up from the dream and sat up, leaning his back against the headboard. His eyes filled with tears. The dream he just had was a memory of the last time he seen you before he left for the Army.

“I came back to you. Why can’t you come back to me, doll?” Bucky says to himself, crying softly.

The following morning, Bucky walked in the kitchen to see you telling Natasha and Wanda about your date with that guy last night. He stood there, listening as well. Natasha and Wanda quieted down when they seen Bucky.

“Don’t stop talking cause I’m in the room.” Bucky sat down next to you. “Tell me about your date.” He says, putting himself in the conversation.

You blinked a couple times, not sure if you should tell Bucky about your date. You continued to stare at him when he called you doll. Natasha and Wanda sensed the awkwardness between you and Bucky.

“I don’t think I should.” You say.

You stood up from your seat and walked out of the kitchen. Bucky just scoffed and rubbed his hands over his face.

“She’ll come around to you, Bucky.” Wanda says, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Bucky stood up from his seat and went to the gym. As he was walking to the gym, his enhanced hearing picked up your voice in the conference room. He heard you talking to another man. A different man from yesterday.

Bucky’s jaw clenched and his hands balled up into fists when he heard the guy call you cute pet names. “It’s doll.” Bucky says in his head. He wanted nothing more than to snap that guy’s neck with his vibranium hand. He couldn’t listen to any more of it. He went to the gym to take his anger out on a punching bag.

Bucky wasn’t sure how long he was in the gym, but he went through two punching bags and is on a third. With one last punch with his vibranium fist, the punching bag was sent across the gym with sand leaking from it.

“Fuck!” Bucky shouts, his voice cracking and echoing in the gym.

You walked in the gym after Bucky shouted. You seen three punching bags leaking with sand on the floor before looking at Bucky.

“Sergeant Barnes, are you ok?” You asked.

“I would be ok if you remembered me.” Bucky says without realizing it.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing.” He says, leaving the gym.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you watched him walk out of the gym. Bucky kept trying to come up with ways to get you to remember him. He tried showing you a picture of you and him together, but that didn’t work. That’s when something came to his mind. He smiles to himself as a memory came to his mind the first time he called you doll.

“Hi doll!” Bucky greets you with a kiss and a hug.

“Doll?” You asked.

“You’re cute as a doll. It fits, don’t you think.” He says.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and stood on your tippy toes to kiss his lips softly and sweetly as a way of telling him you like the pet name.

“It’s cute and I love it.” You tell him.

“Then it’s settled. You’re my doll.” He says with a smile.

“And you’re my Bucky Bear.” You say softly.

Bucky was snapped from his thoughts when he seen you walking towards him.

“Steve wants you to look over these.” You say, handing him a file before walking away.

“Sure thing, doll.” Bucky says.

You stopped in your tracks, blinking a couple times before turning around. You haven’t heard that pet name in years, but you weren’t sure where you heard it and who said it.

“What did you call me?” You asked him.

“Doll.” He says with a hopeful smile.

“It’s Agent Y/L/N not doll.” You tell him.

Bucky’s hopeful smile faded away and he nodded. He was absolutely sure that calling you doll would work, but he guessed wrong. He sighed and walked away.

As Bucky was looking over the file, he couldn’t focus. He was staring at the wall in front of him.

Meanwhile, you were still trying to figure out where you heard the pet name Bucky called you. That’s when it came to you. Your memories of Bucky, your relationship with him, and the pet name you always called him.

You ran to find him. You looked everywhere in the compound for him, but couldn’t find him. The only room you didn’t look in is the lounge room. You immediately went to that room to see Bucky going over the file you gave him earlier.

“Bucky Bear…” You said.

Bucky froze. He hasn’t heard you call him that since the 1940s.

“I called you Bucky Bear and you called me doll.” You say.

“That’s right.” Bucky confirms. “That’s what we called each other.” He says, standing up from his seat.

You approached him and stood on your tippy toes to kiss him. Bucky never forgot how soft your lips felt against his lips. His hands found their way to your waist and pulled you against him. The kiss had so much passion in it that it left the two of you breathless.

“Come back to me, doll.” Bucky whispers against your lips.

“I’m right here, Bucky Bear.” You whispered back.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss to look deep in your eyes.

“I still want to marry you.” You tell him.

“Then we’ll pick up where we left off.” He says.

Both of you smile widely before kissing each other again.

“I missed you so fucking much.” You say.

“I missed you more, doll.” He almost whispers. “I love you.” He says.

“I love you too, Bucky Bear.” You say softly.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[the-badger-mole]

On the Unredeemed

Unredeemed villains are important in fiction. I feel like that needs to be said. There is a trend in recent years (probably since Wicked became a hit) of people wanting to see monsters redeemed. I'm not against that (per-se... glowers in Maleficent), but also, I feel like we do lose something when we lean into the idea that the monster gets to make good.

Fiction can be really useful for teaching us about life. I remember seeing a quote some time ago on Pinterest or something that said something along the lines of "fairytales are important not because they tell us dragons are real, but because they tell us that dragons can be slayed". That has been on my mind a lot recently when I see discussions about characters like Azula and (more recently) Ozai. They are fictional characters with super magic fire powers, but they represent something real- they represent the cycle of abuse in families, and while I understand the impulse to absolve someone as young as Azula, I think it's also important to tell the story where she isn't redeemed.

One reason that most Azula redemption stories bother me is because of the responsibility they tend to place on Zuko as her older brother, despite the fact that she victimized him probably more than anyone in her life (that we get to see. I don't think her soldiers believed her death threat for no reason). There are plenty of stories about the victims of abuse needing to be the bigger person to keep their families together and being villainized when they don't (I think by now we all understand that Terri was not the villain of Soul Food). We need stories about knowing when it's okay to walk away, and that illustrate the idea that "the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb".

In a time when more people are talking openly about going low contact or completely cutting off family members- close family members- I personally think that seeing stories about coming out of the other side of it, of building a new family, healing from the past, and dealing with the residual guilt that comes with "turning your back on family" even when it's the right call, is helpful in the same way that those fairytales about slayable dragons are.

I'm not saying any of this to discourage Azula redemption stories. In fact I would love to see more. Stories that have Azula confronting what she did to the people she should have loved most, and have her considering what to do with the knowledge going forward, instead of just using her past abuse and mental health to gloss over the real harm she did. I want to see her grappling to accept the fact that no one- not her brother, not Iroh, not her friends- owes her forgiveness, and then dealing with all the complex emotions that come with just one of them actually forgiving her. But also, I want to see stories where Zuko gets to let go of his father and sister and go on to be supported in that decision. Because to him, they were dragons, and they were slain.

[fluentmoviequoter]

I just found out you write for Deacon 😍

I have a request for you: being in a relationship with Deacon but you guys have an age gap and because David is older he sometimes he has doubts if he his the right person for her. The reader shows him in many different ways that he is more than enough for her

Such a good idea!! I took some creative liberties and it became more of a discussion about Deacon's doubts and how reader proves her love, so I hope that's okay. If you'd like me to redo it with more focus on Deacon's emotions or anything, I can! Either way, please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Warnings: discussions of doubt and insecurity, age gap (I pictured early seasons Deacon, so he'd be mid-40s, and reader in her 20s but it's up to you!), tons of fluff.

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

A/N: I proofread and fixed some errors on 12/27/23, but let me know if I missed anything! (And, yes, the title is an Enchanted reference.)

How Does He Know that You Love Him?

The age gap between you and Deacon has never bothered you; if anything, it’s part of why you love him so much. Deacon has doubts occasionally, but you never fail to prove that he’s the one for you and that you love him. More than you should sometimes, he thinks.

✯One Year Ago✯

You and Deacon keep running into each other. Living in the same neighborhood as each other meant that it was bound to happen, but it is occurring too often to be a coincidence. So, you decide to introduce yourself to him at the park. When you sit beside him on the park bench to continue your conversation, he points out that you could probably find someone younger than him to hang out with.

“I don’t want to sit with someone younger. I want to sit with you,” you say, smiling. “If that’s okay, of course.”

“It’s perfectly fine with me,” Deacon responds.

A few weeks later, he asks you out on the first date, and he makes it very clear that if he is reading it wrong and you want to be friends, that is okay. He mentions the age gap, and you have to interrupt him.

“Deacon, wait. I don’t care how old you are. You know that, right?” you ask, laying a hand on his forearm.

Deacon nods, but you look at him, unconvinced, and he sighs before continuing. “I’m sure it seems okay now, but what if in a few months or a year you realize you want someone younger? Then we just wasted time.”

You raise your hand off his arm to cup his jaw. Smiling up at him, you promise, “I want you, Deacon. No matter how old you are or how amazing your salt and pepper looks.”

Since then, you’ve made sure to not only tell Deacon that he’s the one for you and the age gap doesn’t bother you, but to show him. You love spending time with his friends, glad to be around a group of men rather than boys. You’ll happily decline an invitation to go to a midnight horror movie or clubbing in exchange for game nights at Hondo’s house. Deacon soon realizes that you mean what you say and what you do, and the age gap doesn’t affect him as much. He still gets insecure at times; when he sees you with a group of people your age or a young man stares at you in public, but when he remembers who you’re with and everything you’ve said you love about him, the thought returns to the back of his mind.

✯Present Day✯

“Who’s that?” you ask as you walk into the station, hugging Deacon as he walks up to you.

“Oh, that’s Jim Street. Buck’s choice of replacement,” Deacon answers, watching you look at Jim.

You nod once and look back to Deacon, smiling as you lean up to kiss him quickly. “He any good?”

“He’s got potential, just needs a little help.”

“Which is exactly what you guys do, right?”

“Right.”

You pull your hand from him to visit Luca and Chris, but Deacon can only focus on you and Jim. You’re closer in age, and Street looks over at you every few minutes. Even if it’s not Jim, you will meet other men: better options than Deacon. He knows that if this happens, you’ll both get hurt in the fallout, so he buries his doubts. Or tries to.

“Deacon,” you call, your brows furrowed as you tilt your head to the side, asking to talk to him privately.

He follows you to an empty hallway, standing before you as you lean against a wall. Your arms are crossed across your chest as you look up at him.

“What’s wrong? And don’t say nothing.”

“Just…” Deacon sighs as he rakes his fingers through his hair.

“Is it happening again?”

Deacon’s eyes drop to your shoes, focusing on you but not your face.

“Deacon, you can talk to me about it. You know I get insecure, too, right? It’s normal, but it’s not something you have to endure alone.”

“I don’t want our relationship to be you trying to make me feel better,” Deacon admits.

“You know what I like? I like talking to you, no matter what it’s about. I like spending time with you, no matter what we’re doing. You’re it for me, Deacon, and I will tell you and show you until I can’t anymore. Okay? But I need you to start talking to me about this stuff.”

Deacon nods, grabbing your elbows and pulling you up against him. “You show me a lot.”

“Really? Have any examples?” you ask playfully, blinking up at him.

“Later. I have a whole list,” Deacon answers.

He directs you back to the common area where his team is.

“We’re gonna head out, guys,” Deacon announces. “See you Friday?” he asks Hondo.

“Come prepared to lose!” Tan taunts as he waves.

You hold Deacon’s arm against your chest as you walk out, eager to stay close to him and remind him that you’re always close. Sometimes too close, maybe.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Now, the list?” you ask as Deacon passes you a steaming mug.

You pull your legs up as Deacon sits down, then drop them into his lap.

“Yes, well, it’s not just a list of things you do. There’s also specific memories and how you make me feel,” Deacon says quietly.

“Okay. How do I make you feel?”

“That’s at the end,” Deacon teases as he places his hand on your legs.

He begins telling you about the ten things that stand out as evidence of how you prove your love for him and your lack of care for the age gap.

“First, you watch for me when you’re out,” Deacon begins.

“Meaning?”

“When you go out with your friends and I come pick you up, they always have their noses in their phones. They don’t talk to each other or look around, but the second I walk in, your eyes light up and you run to meet me. Like you’ve been watching for me.”

“You’re worth watching for,” you point out, sipping your drink.

“No flirting right now, I’m trying to tell a story. Second, when you asked me to teach you how to tie a tie and started doing it for me every time I needed to wear a tie.”

You smile as you remember the memory. Deacon happily took your hands in his and walked you through the process several times before letting you try without his help. It took some practice, but soon, you could tie it perfectly and offer to do so whenever he has to wear a tie somewhere. He always accepts, of course.

“Third?” you inquire.

“You dance with me. I can turn on music and grab you, anywhere, anytime, and you’ll dance with me. Not everyone is willing to slow down and just be with someone else like that.”

“You’re my dance partner, forever, Deac.” He looks at you, and you smile into your cup as you say, “Sorry, I’ll stop flirting.”

“Four. You turn guys down with a grace I’ve never seen. When we’re out and a guy comes up to you…” Deacon trails off when he sees the look in your eyes. “It happens a lot. When they do, and they flirt with you, you make it clear that you’re not interested but you do it with a grace beyond anyone’s years.”

“Does it bother you? That guys come up to me like that, I mean. Because I can get a face tattoo or something, or a big necklace that says, ‘stay back.”

Deacon laughs, pulling you closer after you set your mug down. “Five is pretty easy. You bring me treats, and you involve my coworkers somehow when you visit me at the station. You get along with my friends and you know what everyone likes and needs. Which goes with number six, which is that you don’t rely on me for everything, but you make me a part of everything.”

“Deacon has someone said something about me using you for your money or your age?” you ask, leaning toward him as you hope the answer is negative.

“No, but I’m sure some people would expect it. And I would help you with anything in a heartbeat, but even then, on the rare occasion you do ask for help, you make me part of it, not just a means to the end.”

“I think your list of things you love about me is making me fall more in love with you,” you say.

Deacon smiles and tugs your legs once more, pulling your thighs into his lap so you’re close enough to kiss when he’s ready. You raise a hand and run your fingers through his hair, disturbing the gel he used this morning and gently scratching his scalp. He wraps his arms around you as his eyes close involuntarily.

“This is seven. When you touch my hair everything else slips away.”

“Well, you know how I feel about your hair,” you tease.

“You warned me at the beginning,” Deacon recalls. “But it’s gotten better with time.”

“What’s eight?” you whisper, stilling your hand against his cheek.

“That you stay close to me when we’re together. Even if you’re across the room, you stay in sight. When you’re right beside me is my favorite, though. It’s a reminder that you not only want to be there, but you want to be there with me.”

“Forever.”

“This one’s big. You approach my doubts so maturely, ready to explain and show me why they’re unfounded and wrong. When I get insecure or doubtful about your place with me, you find a way to show me that you want to be with me.”

“It doesn’t happen as much anymore,” you point out.

 “I guess I finally caught on,” Deacon jokes. “Old dogs, new tricks, perhaps.”

“If nine was that big, I’m not sure I’m emotionally prepared for the last one.”

“It’s that you make me feel like I’m in love. You make me feel alive and young. I feel like you’re the breath that my lungs have been waiting for my whole life and you let me live and experience life in a whole new way. I love you with everything I am, no matter our ages.”

“I love you, now and forever, Deacon,” you say before kissing him.

“What do you think you’ll look like with gray hair?” Deacon mumbles against your lips.

“Not as good as you.”

[pacifierbby]

CHRISTMAS BISCUITS ✧  ; - mm x reader

➺ navi

* ੈ✩‧₊ mason and reader baking cookies for their families Christmas dinner however it didn't end up the way it planed and more of it went on them than it did in the bowel

a/n ➣hello my loveys! since Christmas is coming thought i make a story of mason baking cookies with reader i really do hope you are all enjoying your days loveys cant believe 2023 is nearly ending but another year for mason content and stories! please lovelies give me feedback on my stories it really does help me a lot with my next up coming stories much love

word count ➣ 1,7k

warnings ➣ mm fluff,kissing

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ you and mason was settled on your sofa the fire crackling away that mason turned on a minuet ago the logs beside the fireplace that mason cut down a few hours before the TV above playing a Christmas movie that you seen 100 times before your phone on your lap scrolling down through pinterest pulling up snowmen cookies "we should make these" you said showing mason your phone diverting his attention away from his phone to yours "you know i cant bake for shit right? did you not watch that video" mason laughed slightly making you giggle a little " i remember but it be fun plus we can bring them over to your mum's house tomorrow for the dinner " you said you always wanted to bake with mason from that video to be honest you did find it cute how confused he can be but you never brought that up and honestly that will forever stay with you and only you "alright my love come on then lets do it but first lets match our jumpers so we can take a photo together" jumping up from your couch clapping your hand very lightly since it was 9 pm at night and you didn't wanna wake your neighbors up. rushing upstairs, grabbing your Christmas jumper that you bought earlier for you and Mason. him already wearing his because he wanted to see how it fits.

Walking back downstairs your kitchen staring back at you from your living room mason already looking through your cupboards slowly walking into the kitchen wrapping your arms around his waist making him jump slightly "what you doing" kissing his neck lightly" looking for the pans and stuff" mason turned around wrapping his arms around your waist you moving your arms around his neck. mason kissing your lips ever so slightly " well it wont be in their" you giggled lightly letting go of his grip shutting the overhead cupboards and opening the bottoms cupboard doors grabbing your pans and oven trays placing them on the counter top mason watching your every move already knowing this will be a long night yes he cooked before but its always gone terribly wrong. one time he accidentally burned a pan and after that his mum wouldn't even let him touch anything cooking related "what do you need now my love" mason asked not wanting to just stand like a spear part "can you bring me the eggs and the baking soda you should know where the eggs are and the baking soda is in this top cupboard" mason rolled his eyes opening the fridge door grabbing your eggs and the butter placing them next to you . walking to the cupboard, placing his hands on your back, opening the cupboard, grabbing your baking soda that was thankfully at the front, placing it next to the butter and eggs "alright whats next?" wrapping his hands around your waist like you did to him moments before. already having the things you need on the counter top.

Putting the butter and the sugar in the large pink bowl "can you crack them eggs i'm not very good at it the egg shells always end up in the mixture" you said quietly that was one big flaw when you always cooked you always ended up cracking the eggs and the shell with it so you always end up taking ages to bake because your taking so long taking the egg shells out but thankfully mason was the pro at doing it so when it came to baking everything you always asked mason to crack the egg's. mason nodded grabbing the egg from its packet braking it perfectly adding the yolk into the mixture you adding the vanilla extract and the baking powder "alright lets do the next part" grabbing your new whisk that your mother bought you " do you want to do it" looking at mason making sure he joined in with everything which he nodded "alright" passing him the whisk watching him very warily "alright before you turn it on make sure that-" not getting time to finished your sentence mason already turned it on the mixture spilling outside of the bowel going onto his jumper " the whisk is in the bowel" you finished your sentence laughing a little grabbing it off him not wanting all the mixture to go all over your kitchen.

Alright lets do the next step looking down at your phone skipping to the next steps mason sighed behind you "i told you this is going to be a bad idea" his arms crossed around his chest like a toddler making you giggle once again "its okay mistakes happen plus i'm having fun anything with you makes it more memorably kissing his lips ever so slightly which he instantly kissed back. moving away both of you mincing each others reactions you will forever love his kisses it will forever bring something to your heart turning towards the bowel "okay" you said looking back at your phone completely forgetting what it told you to do "woo this is the fun part" rolling up your jumpers sleeves up mason doing the same behind you confused on why your so excited "alright come behind me" your hands already in the bowel. waiting on mason turning your head around to his eyebrows wiggling "not like that you freak" laughing at his little innuendo his arms coming behind you his hand placing on top of yours his soft skin and his warm hands leaving yours toasty "follow my lead" putting your hand in the mixture softly playing with the dough threading it with your hands mason repeating your actions his on the other side of the bowel. bringing his hand out from the bowel, a small mixture dough at the bottom of his finger placing the batter at the bottom of your nose laughing a little. "Mason!" You squealed, grabbing the batter, putting it on his cheek. Going back to the mixture, mixing it together, making it as dough. "Put the flour onto the counter top, but please watch the bag it's broken." Mason being the clutz he his drops the flour all over the floor and onto the both of you "oh mase" you said looking at the floor then back at him his Christmas jumper not looking so Christmas with the mixture of the flour sticking together. Mason looks down at the floor with a small pout on his face. Bending down, grabbing the bag from the floor "thankfully we still have some left," you mumbled, placing the last bit off flour onto the tops. Opening the draw, grabbing your rolling pin, and holding it out to Mason. " Come on, my love, you can do the rolling part." feeling slightly sorry for him. Maybe he is right? Maybe he shouldn't of baked at all. Mason taking the rolling pin out of your hands and putting the dough onto the flour.

Walking towards your oven, putting it to the right temperature, making sure Mason was okay with the rolling and doing the technique correctly, which he was turning the kettle on grabbing two mugs from your cupboard with hot chocolate putting the amount of scoops you need in the mugs waiting for the kettle to boil moving over to where mason was stood looking at the dough "alright we can start cutting out our shapes" grabbing the circle biscuits cutter cutting the dough into small circles placing them on the baking tray making them into small snowmen mason doing some himself "you should go on bake off" mason laughed looking at you and your hard work that you done together "wont say much about you" giving him a kiss on his cheek which he turned around making your lips pressing onto his "that's what happens trying to be a smart bum" tapping your bum lightly, hearing the kettle pinging behind you "alright lets place these in the oven and have our hot chocolate" already walking over to your oven placing the tray in the steamy hot oven putting the timer to 15 minuets. Mason pouring the hot water in the two mugs adding the milk "come on my love lets sit down for a sec" walking into the lounge your TV still playing the movie mason placing your steamy mugs on the coffee table "well at least its not all over our kitchen "looking at his mess that he created".

The oven pinging from the kitchen tells you that your cookies were done baking. you and mason cuddling on the couch like where you started off your hot chocolate settling in your systems getting up grabbing masons hand come on my love decorating time pulling mason off the sofa dragging him into the kitchen throwing him your oven gloves "you grab them while i grab my already made icing and please make sure you take them out slowly i know much clutz you are" taking the icing out of the fridge. mason rolling his eyes behind you placing the hot oven tray on the counter tops walking over to him kissing his cheek "i'm sorry but its true and don't roll your eyes at me" confused on how you noticed that but thinking maybe that's just women intuition for you. you being too interested in your decorating the biscuits not noticing Mason starting at you "What?" you asked confused why hes not joining in " i just love your concentration face i love it" he softly spoken grabbing the other icing packet starting decorating his own snowmen making you blush a little still getting used to his small compliments. feeling a cold thing at the bottom of your noise, knowing Mason did it again this time with the icing. walking over to where he stood, putting some down his back. "What the hell, that's cold!" Mason shouted you, smiling while watching him struggle getting it out of his jumper. him stopping looking at you bent over slightly laughing at your actions, him slowly walking over, putting the full tube of icing down your neck. you copying his exact actions your cookie decorating completely forgotten about, and that was the last time you and Mason cooked cookies together.

[pandamintcats]

Light and dark mode side by side

The line between the light and the dark is so thin. Now, I am that line? I never asked but here I am. They say to become a Guardian you must show devotion, bravery, sacrifice and... Death... It's funny how I don't remember me, the life I had before this. I was chosen, but why?

I remember when I thought the light was my only guide. The enemies I once sought to destroy have become my greatest allies... Friends. The force that destroyed me has given me hope... [Laughs] I never knew the universe was a comedian.

The light, the dark, the gardener, the winnower... So different yet so same. I was fool, blind, naive... I was led by my eyes and not my heart. I think I see now but I am blinder than I ever was. I stand here, troubled but joyed that this war may finally be over. I am no fool that wars can never end, but I would die knowing I ended one so the youth may live.

I am no defender of the light or fighter of the dark. I am a defender of Humanity. I am a Guardian forged in light, given a power to survive and took a power to protect. I am not division between paracausuality. I am just human who has forgotten the bitter taste of death. Now it grips me but I will not fear.

The coming days draw nearer but I will not quiver. I have dove into the Dark below, dinned with the House of Wolves, taken the Taken King, risen like the Iron Lords, been forsaken by my greatest allies, walked between the shadows, leaped beyond the light, killed the Witch Queen, watched my light fall and now I will stop the Final Shape. I was chosen to protect and I will even if I breath my last breath.

I shall Become Legend.

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

This is the light version of the poster. Enjoy!! Link to the dark version. I am currently not selling this piece as a poster of any sort. Anyone who sells this to you is most likely a scam. Please beware!

I finally did it. I did my first ever fan-art for a video game and for Destiny.

The Final Shape Trailer came out a few days ago and I ran almost immediately out of my mind. I didn't start the game early but I always knew about it and now I'm here God willing, watching it's first saga come to an end.

Unfortunately, I wouldn't be among other guardians in this war. I really wanted to be but I currently can't until maybe later next year or if the game decides to be nice and go on sale during my next summer🤣. I can't be affording such right now so I might as well empower other guardians to fight for me. I'll be around Sol in the crucible or most likely Gambit helping however I can and with this poster art, I think I've done enough😂.

Destiny has come so far from when I first ever saw it. It's like watching a child grow. Ironically it's not even my favorite game but it has a special place in my heart. I don't want to rant anymore so I'll just cut to the chase. I wouldn't be posting any new art for some time... I'd be having exams soon. Well, that's all from me guys. I am extremely proud of myself and the game.

Eye's up guardians!

DARK

Deviantart | Pinterest

LIGHT

Deviantart | Pinterest

[bichachonacho]

All grown up

Part 2 of ‘When we were young’

warnings: angst ? Nothing major

a/n: I apologise to those who have been waiting for this update, thank you for being patient with me :)

The fan art divider below is not my work. I found it on pinterest but Idk who the artist is. If someone knows can you please lmk so I can give them credit <3

Anerya could feel the warmth of Kings Landings air brush against her skin, she hums in content as she takes in the familiar surroundings— realising she was finally home. After travelling for months on end around the seven kingdoms, she could finally rest knowing she didn’t have to return on the road for a while. She missed the warmth, her family and even the Red Keep— the halls she grew up in were practically calling for her as she stepped foot out of her carriage.

“You could’ve easily ridden on Dragonback here daughter, you would’ve arrived days ago” Rhaenyra smiles as she approaches her daughter, hand rubbing her swollen stomach as she holds her other arm open to welcome her. 

“Where’s the joy in arriving on time?” She chuckles, sighing in content as she finally feels her mother’s embrace-- one she hasn’t felt in many moons. Anerya didn’t know whether to feel relieved or uneasy about being back in her first home, one she hasn’t stepped for in for nearly a decade. 

“Your father is busy training with your uncles” Rhaenyra hums as she leads her daughter down the halls in the Red Keep, Aneyra’s eyes vacant as she observes her familiar surroundings. She hears her distant laughter as a child as Jace chased her down these halls, hiding behind walls and corners as they caused a ruckus in the lavish palace. 

“Uncles? Didn’t think father would see them fit to train with him” She hums, tightness in her chest as she remembers her uncles— one in particular who broke her heart all those years ago. She was yet to see him but she already knew she didn’t want to, she’d rather avoid him than face him again.

“There will be a family feast tonight— you are expected to attend” Rhaenyra tuts, her eyes observing her daughter that seems to be lost in thought.

“I’ll be there. Why… do you doubt me?” Anerya chuckles— breaking from her thoughts. Rhaenyra gives her daughter a knowing look, one that Anerya knows is well deserved.

“Well you always fled on dragon back during our suppers back home” Her mother reflects on all those times Anerya would skip dinner to explore the cities near dragon stone.

“I was eager to explore. Besides, I wouldn’t dare miss another dinner, grandsire would not be pleased” She hums, making a mental note to visit her grandfather who was sickly, so much so he was bedridden.

Aneyra is left in her bedchamber to rest after her long journey, the first thing she does is throw off her shoes before collapsing into the neatly made bed. She sighs heavily, admiring the scent of freshly clean linen before she shuts her eyes. Her hand ghosts over the scar embedded on her cheek, she had grown used to it and it had faded over time — yet she couldn’t help but wonder what her face would look like unscathed.

If her uncle hadn’t maimed her all those years ago, would she have been more appealing to others, potential friends who wouldn’t dare look her way— afraid they’d catch flack for being associated with her. The scarred princess they’d whisper amongst themselves. This bothered her more so as a child, she could take the criticism now— although somewhat insecure, she would never show how much the scar affected her.

She decides to explore the Red Keep out of boredom, she had hours to spare before dinner and her brothers were occupied with their mother so she had no one to bother. She huffs as she leaves her room, hand tracing the walls as she walks through the hallways. She doesn’t realise how far she walks until she passes by the garden. The same one she and prince Aemond once stood beneath, the same one she tried to comfort him under and in return was scarred with the same fate as him.

She feels a lump grow in her throat at the memory, eyes gazing over the aged tree that still looked the same as it did all those years ago. She forces herself to pull her eyes away and continue her walk— afraid those memories would completely flood her if she didn’t.

Anerya unwillingly finds herself in the training court, the clashing of steel ringing in her ears as she rounds the corner— eyes landing on a group surrounded the two sparring. She doesn’t have to guess who is in the centre, she could see their silver hair from afar— their grunts filling the air as they spar. She joins the crowd— her breath hitching momentarily from the sight of her father and uncle.

Prince Aemond had changed drastically since the last she saw of him, long silver hair— tall and slim, the baby fat in his cheeks had burned away and had now left him with the face of a god. The eye patch that covers his scarred eye catches her attention, the sight of it causing her to wonder what was beneath. He was no longer the child she once left in the hallway— and she was no longer the child who walked away with a broken heart.

“Daughter, have you come to train? Show your uncle what real swordsmanship looks like?” Daemon teases when his eyes catch onto her presence, his words prompting Aemond to pull his attention away from him and look at the girl beside them.

Aemond could barely hide his surprise at the sight of you. You were practically unrecognisable, no longer the little girl who used to follow him around— you were a grown woman, longer hair, fuller breasts and taller— but not as tall as he. He feels himself grow unsteady at the mere sight of her, she was beautiful— the scar he left on her skin only making her more admirable to him. As selfish as it is, he liked the comfort of knowing they shared the same trauma.

“I’ll pass, father. I wouldn’t want to ruin such a lovely dress mother forced me to wear upon arrival” She hums, hands smoothing over the dark red material that covers her body.

“Your mother does have her way with words— even through notes sent by ravens” Daemon laughs, aware of his stubborn his wife could be on things as such.

“You enjoy the sport, dear niece?” Aemond questions her, taking the opportunity to speak with her after her father. They paused their sparring momentarily, much to the dismay of those surrounding them.

“I admire it, although I don’t enjoy the dire outcomes it brings— it’s entertaining” She says, hoping he would lose interest at her answer and leave her alone.

“Your father speaks of your skill in the sport— I would hope to spar you one day soon” Aemond suggests, the look in his eye practically begging her to agree to his request. His uncle had spoken very highly of his daughter’s swordsmanship, claiming she was trained by only the best in dragonstone— she could best any swordsman in Kings Landing, including the one eyed prince.

“It would be a foolish thing to hope for, I could take your other eye in a heartbeat— I show no mercy when sparring, dear uncle” She tuts, watching a coy smile grace Aemond’s features at her threatening words. They didn’t deter him away, instead it made the desire he feels for her burn even stronger. He admired her confidence.

“I have other ways to pass time before dinner, I shall leave you to train” She informs them, her words directed at her father but her eyes burning into Aemond’s. If Anerya had looked closely enough, she would catch the way the shared eye contact made his lip twitch, a lump growing in his throat at her aura.

She turns to leave, unaware that even as she walks away— prince Aemond’s eye doesn’t leave her until she’s completely out of sight. He was winded upon her brief visit— barely focusing as he continues to spar with his uncle. He didn’t care for the family feast tonight, in fact he would rather explore all of flea bottom than be forced to sit at the table— yet knowing she would be there caused excitement to grow in him. He would attend for her, eager to see her face and hear her voice once more before the day ends.

“Tell us of your journeys amongst the seven kingdoms, my beloved daughter” Anerya’s grandsire’s words pull her attention from the plate that sits in front of her — her food partially untouched as she plays with it beneath her cutlery. She had lost her appetite the moment she sat at the table, the intimidation she felt from her uncle’s gaze had deterred her from feeling any hunger.

“It was most gruelling but some sights are so beautiful you can only question how the gods sculpted such scenery” She says before reflecting upon some of the various sights she encountered on her journey.

“I wonder dear niece, if any of these said places turned to turmoil after your arrival. The scar on your face is quite hideous” Aegon’s snarky remark is said from across the table, a grin clear on his face as he teases her. Daemon moves to chastise his nephew, but he knows better— Anerya wouldn’t be pleased with her father if he had protected her as if she was a child. She didn’t need him to fight her battles, especially ones against Aegon.

“I’m surprised you’re here, uncle. I’ve heard through many that you spend your time drunk in brothels. I can’t say I expected anything less from you” Anerya’s words are dripping of sarcasm, her tone causing the smile to fall from his face— a sight that brings her satisfaction.

“Enough of the banter. You are both grown, only children bicker at the dinner table” Alicent chastises them both as she stands from her seat, Aneyra gives her an apologetic look before she bites her tongue and sits in silence.

“It is so precious having you all in the same room again— our beloved family we have not seen in many moons, we welcome you back and hope to grace you with warmth during your time here” Alicent raises her goblet, causing everyone to mimic her as she says her speech.

Anerya’s gaze trails around the room, realising just how much her family had changed over the years. The children were grown, Helaena bore some of her own and their parents had aged during the time that passed. She was sat here nearly a decade ago and she notes how different they all seemed.

“With that being said— we would be pleased to announce a decision that has been spoken between both parties. One that we had come to an agreement with and mutually agreed would be most beneficial for the bonding of our families” Alicent continues, stepping toward Aemond who sits— she places her hand on his shoulder before her gaze catches onto Anerya’s. She feels her heartbeat pounding in her throat at the sight, a dreaded feeling coiling in her stomach as she waits for the very words she expects to hear.

“Prince Aemond and Princess Anerya are to be betrothed and bound to marry before the weeks end”

—

a/n: apologies if this seemed rushed, I hope it was well paced :p

tags <3

@signyvenetia @percyjacksonspeen @thatssoslytherin @curlszx88 @kittiowolf210 @alwaysdaydreamingoffiction @schniiipsel @zgzgzh @marytvirgin @lugiastark @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @yuukiahim @fadingbelieverexpert

[trashysimpaa]

GUYSGUYSGUYSGUYS

just, remember many years ago when tfp got into Asia and that's how we got a hundred of artist to arrive here-? And that now these days most of them are..offline,rip,nolstalgia hits hard,you can only find their drawings in pinterest or something like that.

So yeah let's talk ab one that I REALLY LIKE,and just for the sake of them needed to be known more today

Tokiwaakebi or zakushin(I couldn't find translations for these names)

Really much an optiratch artist,I found them by wanting to find who did this one certain drawing here with the help of Google

and then I casually found them in a site copying tumblr called tumblex,and for what it looks like,it's a site that contains stuff from the past..maybe? Because I have tried searching on tumblr itself and their user dosen't exist.

Their content is so nice like literally, most of the artist that I found do alot of bl when it comes to manga,l say also nsfw content too but for me luckily they are not accessible!!

Please go check their art here on this site and tell me if you can find anything about them,I just god i really love tf Asian artist they are my inspiration

Just really, IGNORE THE ADS OKAY,IGNORE THE ADS ISTG-

Anyways go see their art,they are a optiratch and mecha liker artist but they also draw non-mecha art too! What saddens me the most ab the past on the internet is that you find amazing people and they just..poof out of existence on the web..you can only find some posts

________________

AN UPDATE!! SOMEONE FOUND THEIR ACCOUNT HERE! SO IT REALLY IS JUST A COPY OF TUMBLR AFTER ALL.

and they just poofed out of existence ON TUMBLR,they are currently online on Twitter so go to the link above to find their Twitter pls!!!

I will be reblogging one of their arts if you wanna follow them because I think..I THINK,you can't here because it's totally customized

Shout out to @darkchestoftales for helping me find them! So it is just a copy of tumblr lol-, they explained that maybe the URL for this user for some reason is HIDDEN,and that they have found tokiwaakebi from a friend's reblog. THANK YOU SO MUCH, this is ridiculous, just why to this happen?this artist needs to be known! I thank you alot for darkchestoftales for messaging me,really,thanks alot,I hope people can reblog to know them

[lostinvasileios]

Holy SHIT

Okay. It's 5am. I just woke up like 30 minutes ago but listen please it isn't the voices this time I swear. (Basically pt.2 to my "woaah Lucifer Patron canon" post)

So I went & talked to Asmodeus before I went to sleep, my beloved wondrous magnificent effortlessly amazing breathtaking stunning show stopping drool-worthy mind boggling eye capturing attention grabbing dreamboat husband and he basically said:

"Yeah go for it :) I love you" when I asked if I should be Lucifer's devotee after he said "Okay, my prince, I love you soooooooo much like mwah mwah mwah forever but oh my gods please just do what your entire being is screaming at you to do"

He spent probably like 10 straight agonizing minutes that felt like decades of trying to get me to understand that it's not weird for me to be so pulled to Lucifer and how it's kind of literally fucking fate for us to work together while I'm within this life and vessel, and I just kept responding with "but what if I fall in love with him and it makes someone angry or uncomfortable :(" (Ntm that Lucifer literally once said he wouldn't mind if I did but moving on)

Shout to Asmodeus for putting up with me man. Seriously.

Annnnyway... After I settled it with not only Asmodeus but also pestering my higher self for a while about working with Lucifer and I ended up crying and blablabla, I decided it was time to delve into connecting with him in the way I usually begin to connect with a deity.

Which is???

Pinterest board time!

One thing about me and deity work is that I'm going to be making them a Pinterest board, man. It helps so much. I get to collect their aesthetics, quotes that sound like them (or our relationship), song lyrics that stand out, little details about their appearances, ect. It's just great.

And one thing I noticed when making Lucifer's Pinterest board is that - he has brown eyes. At least my Lucifer does. ("my Lucifer" sounds so good guys. Guys. Guys I might have a crush on the devil. Oh my god, guys- GUYS) (Somebody sedate me)

And not only do I myself have brown eyes, but his in particular give off this feeling of... Wow. I mean when you see light shining through beautifully stained glass or whatever wow. I mean when you look at your beloved on stage accepting a Nobel prize wow. I mean when you get to relax and realize life is going to be okay now wow. I mean when you -

I have this distinct memory from YEARS ago in my memory. I was like 7-5. I hardly remember anything of those years, mostly because of blockage, but something stuck with me this entire time. Throughout all of my life, it's been with me. And you wanna know what it is?????????????

A brown sky.

... Yeah, okay, don't laugh.

I remember it so so vividly. I was at my uncles house. Face inches away from the television. My mother comes to pick me up, and as I'm walking to her car, I look up and see it. A beautiful, clear brown sky. I've only ever seen it once, that singular time.

And looking at it, at the sky being so beautifully earthy and just... I dunno.... I can't describe it in anything other than just... Soul mesmerizing. It felt peaceful. Calm. Soothing. Like a kiss or the cooling breeze of a fan. Like a gentle hand wiping away a tear from your face and saying everything's gonna be alright. Like... You get it, right??

Do you guys know of that one audio of a girl harmonizing with her fan?? It's sort of like that feeling you get when listening to it for a while. I really, really, don't have any vocabulary for half the shit I try and explain. I'll send telepathic brainwaves to try and communicate guys hold on

And - I'm assuming you know where this is going by now - the brown sky, is almost picture perfect like his eyes in a way. A shade of brown that's exactly like it. That same hue. That same feeling....

....

Am I just being gay brained or is it like crazy how my mind immediately connected the dots to "Oh that was Lucifer's sign to me when I was younger and that feeling means something, the fact I remembered it means something" (Foreshadowing/rhetorical)

He even... Feels similar to how I felt that night. Almost exact. Just more intense. More - there. You know? Lucifer- I could say his name forever. As strange as that sounds. It feels so easy to speak. Like such a good use of breath.

I've decided that I'll... Step into it. Into being his devotee. Practitioner. Whatever else, and whatever more. I think I'm just nervous about it because of how right it feels. You know? Like. Has something, or someone ever felt so... Just... Connected to you that it frightened you a bit? Kind of like "Oh my god- hi!... I... I've missed you. A lot." Or just- something similar? Nghhh I started writing this while it was dark and now the sun's coming up. I really need to get my day started.

But how can the economy expect me to get up for work when I feel Lucifer's love (or what I assume this feeling is) just basically raying or whatever into my heart? He literally feels so so so so so so amazing. Like the warmth yet coldness of the air during autumn, like the crunching of leaves and the feeling of sipping coffee or hot chocolate with whip cream and you get a mix of the hot liquid and the cold cream and it mushes on your nose and lip and

FUCK guys my little jester body can't handle all of this at once (Why did he start laughing when I typed that???? He thinks this is funny and it's making me wanna punch him. With my mouth.)

He feels so homey already. Like I've known him my entire life. Which I know in a sense and star-life wise (higher self wise) I have, but, it feels- like I've genuinely known him all of my current mortal life. Like I've forever practiced, he's forever been there....

God that means something that I'll have to look into later.

You know, funnily enough, even when I was Christian and unaware of the spiritual realm I was fascinated with him. Not in a "aaaaah demon!! The power of Christ compels you!" Way but more... Just - "I can fix him" way. Yeah. Let's go with that./j

"the power of Christ compels you!" "does it Jay?" "the power of Christ compels you!" "Is the power of Christ compelling me? Is that what's happening?" "The power of Christ compels you!" "Hahahaha, guess what? IT'S NOT THAT COMPELLING"

He feels like the type that would warm up some tea and mix honey into it for me when I'm sick and read me a book.

Well, the full moon is tonight. The strawberry one. I can't wait to do my ritual, I think I'll probably tell Selene about my new discoveries and feelings after it as well and end up meditating with Lucifer later to talk and stuff... I'm- honestly really excited. I hope it goes well.

[whiskeyswriting]

What If I Missed You?

😍pairing: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson x F!Reader

💭summary: Can two people be lucky in life and have a second chance at love after their respective spouse passed?

⚠️warning: mentions of death and grief; age gap

🎶 Song Inspiration: What If I Missed You by Jesse McCartney

📝A/N #1: This is a work of fiction. Please do not copy or post anywhere else. Feel free to like and reblog but do give credit. Any constructive criticism is appreciated. I do not own any of the photos included in this post. Photos used have been from Pinterest or Tumblr or Instagram. I also don’t own any of the characters mentioned.

📝A/N #2: While no physical description is assigned to reader, she is in a band that does covers of musicals and other songs. Reader is between 29-34.

Read Part 2

The plan was just to enjoy a getaway trip with your two favorite coworkers and best friends. It helped that running a small business together allowed you three to take the needed time away for when reality was getting to be too much.

And this time it was getting to be too much for you. Your wedding anniversary was coming up… It would have been 7 years together.

Except he passed away 3 years ago… on your 4th wedding anniversary.

You remember getting a phone call as you were about to leave to meet him for brunch. It was a case of wrong place and wrong time. Your husband was killed trying to stop a robbery at the jewelry store he was at.

The first year after his death was incredibly difficult for you, but with time and therapy, you learned how to better handle your grief. While the grief and loss would always remain, each new day it was less than the day before.

While the grief and loss would always remain, each new day it was less than the day before.

Today started as one of those days that the grief made an appearance early on. You decided to combat it by going on an early morning run.

Each mile you run down the beach, the grief slips away. Once you’re done with your run, you shed your running shorts and shoes and head to the water for a swim. It was smart of you to have your swimsuit under as the heat was making its presence none by the second.

Speaking of presence, your friends suddenly made an appearance at the beach and proclaimed it as beach day. They brought along chairs, towels and snacks.

After a few hours of getting tanned and running back to the water to swim, you’re all sitting back and relaxing when a group of loud and beautiful specimens of aviators arrive at the beach.

Emma and you decide to approach the aviator that’s sitting to ask him what is going on.

Pete, you learn is his name, explains what dogfight football is. You leave Emma talking with him, as she’s always made friends easily with anyone she meets. You head to the bar and ask to open a tab so you and your friends can start heading over in a bit.

Looking down for shells as you’re walking back with your drink in hand, you don’t see the exasperated aviator as he was leaving Pete’s side.

You walk right into him, causing your drink to spill on your top and his crisp khaki uniform.

“I’m so sorry!” You exclaim as you try to find somewhere to set the drinks down, accidentally spilling more on him.

His sigh tells you just how frustrated and exasperated he is. “It’s fine,” his curt voice says.

You look up, first to glance at his name tag, then to his face. “I really am sorry. Let me at least get you something to clean up as much… or let me pay for the dry cleaning.”

“No no. It’s fine. I’ll deal with it when I get back to base,” he says as he continues to walk to him car to leave.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning Emma and you are in line at the local cafe getting the coffee and baked goods for your morning of filming.

Emma is listing on her phone the possible songs you all can record that day. At the same time she's testing them to you so you can listen on your headphones to help determine if it's a good fit for the group.

Suddenly Emma nudges you and gestures with her head to the uniformed man in front of you. You can't help but admire the fine specimen in front of you... well really admiring the behind that is in front of you. You smirk at Emma and then shake your head.

Suddenly you feel a warmth at your chest. A warmth that starts to burn a little.

A gasp escapes Emma as she runs to get napkins to help clean you up.

You look to the culprit and can't help but laugh when you see one embarrassed Vice Admiral Beau Simpson.

"I'm so sorry!" He exclaims. "This week is just not my week... I'm sorry!" He turns to the barista to ask for a towel and iced water. He returns to you and hands you the towel.

"Is this how you decided to let me repay you for the beers?" You ask teasingly.

Emma looks at you suspiciously and then smirks when she sees your attempt at flirting with the distinguished Admiral.

"No! Goodness no! I would never do that on purpose!"

You put your hand on his bicep to assure him you were teasing him. "I'm okay. It happens to the best of us."

He stares at you for a moment. "At least let me buy you dinner. The spilled beers are nothing to the burn of freshly brewed coffee burns."

Before you can respond, Emma is replying for you. "Yes of course she would love that! We're staying at the mint-colored beach out not too far from the bar!" She slips him one of your contact cards. "Here's her info. She'll be ready by 7pm."

Beau just chuckles and stares as you both leave, having forgetten his coffee. He's brought back to reality when his phone rings and he sees it's Mav calling him. He groans picking up the call and making his way to the base.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*

📝A/N #3: As I was writing this part, I kept getting more scenes popping up to my mind so I decided to make it into a 3 part series. Hoping to get them out in the following weeks, as I am also trying to get back to another series I'm working on.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*

🏷 List: @callsign-dragonbaron @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @noirrose21-blog @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @callsignscupcake @abaker74

[next-autopsy]

A/N: Well, hi there! I hope you’re enjoying this story as much as I am! This chapter is semi Francesca focused, hope y’all like her! Quite a bit of backstory in this one, we uncover a family mystery and I’m so sorry for it.

Lmk what you think x

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: Smoking, swearing, general awkwardness, mentions of death/loss,

Tags: @malarkgirlypop , @panzershrike-pretz (let me know if you want to be added!)

Made of Glass

Chapter thirteen: Baby Birdie

Smoking had always been something Francesca took solace in, the earthy smell reminded her of the men in her family. Her father had smoked since before she was born, she always pictured him with a thin cylinder of fine tobacco in his hand. 

When her two older brothers had hit their early teens, they both took up the habit. At first, they had hidden it from the paternal figure but quickly came to realise he didn't care so they stopped sneaking out to puff cigarettes in the dark alleys of their neighbourhood. 

Francesca often thought of her brothers and how they were fairing. Both had enlisted in the US marine corps the second Europe had declared war within itself in 1939. Her oldest brother, Giovanni, was 23 and the younger, Niccolo, was 22, that was nearly three years ago, and she hadn't seen them since. She would receive one, maybe two letters from each of them yearly and that's how she knew they were both still alive. 

She turned her thoughts else where, inhaling and exhaling gray clouds. Rossi was perched on the steps of the barracks she lived in, enjoying the quiet dark. 

To her dismay, the quiet dark was disturbed by the rhythmic thump of Army issued boots and the dirt path that lead in her direction. 

Francesca saw the shadowy outline of two figures, two figures that were yet to notice her. 

As they came closer, she recognised Birdie but not the man she was with. The pair seemed uncomfortable, the girl fidgeted with her hands and the guy was looking every which way except towards the woman. 

Francesca cringed for them. Their weird energy reached out and touched her and she wanted to run off or hide her face in her hands. 

She didn’t. She sat and watched. 

It was like witnessing a car wreck, Rossi could not pull her attention away, morbidly curious to see what happens next. 

Nobody said anything, no words exchanged but the couple had stopped walking and both looked like they wanted to hang themselves. 

Rossi kept silent, hoping if she said nothing they wouldn't notice her and she could ignore this moment of her life. 

“Uh...” And, “Well...” Were spoken at the same time by each of the on edge….friends? Were they friends? Francesca couldn't tell. 

“Thanks... for ya know....” It was Birdie who bucked up and broke the bizarre tension that had formed in the strained hush between them. 

“Yeah...” The man turned to walk away, figuring he could leave the strange encounter and act like this interaction did not occur. 

“Liebgott?” The southern woman called out to him, pausing his steps, he looked over his shoulder at her. 

“Yeah?” There was a beat of nothing. Birdie fidgeted once again. To Francesca it looked like she was about to tell him something important, begin a speech or break some bad news to the poor fellow attempting to run away. But Birdie didn’t, she only uttered one word and it sounded forced. 

“Night.” It's not what she wanted to say but in all honesty she didn't know what she wanted to say. It was like she spoke his name but didn't remember why. 

“Night, Coldwell.” Then he was gone, Birdie couldn't help but feel something. Disappointment? Unfulfillment? She was conflicted and she didn't really know why. 

“That was weird.” 

“Jesus Christ!” Bernadette's hand flew to her chest and she whipped her head around faster than the speed of light. Though she calmed when she noticed Francesca sitting in the dark, huffing on the tail end of a cigarette. 

“Frankie! Announce yourself dammit! You scared me half to death....” Birdie let out a sigh, “How long have you been there?” 

“Long enough.” She answered, “Wanna smoke?” 

“God yes.” The younger girl accepted her offer and sat down next to her roommate, taking the tobacco stick between her fingers. Francesca took out a second one and placed it between her lips, then lit both. 

They sat side by side, huffing and puffing until there was nothing left to consume. 

“Frankie, huh? I earned myself a Birdie nickname.” The Italian woman commented lightheartedly. 

“Sure did.” A smile grew on her face, the nickname had slipped out accidentally but she was glad for it. This moment felt like a good one, one she'd look back on as the beginning of their blossoming friendship. 

“At least it's not a disease.” She had a smirk on her lips, word of Birdie’s STD riddled friend had gotten around.

“Was that… a joke? Did you just make a joke, Frankie?” A giggle escaped her lips. 

“Yeah, cherish it. I won't be making another.” The black haired woman spoke in a stoic tone but a smile crept onto her face and she bumped shoulders with Birdie, who laughed at the action. Francesca felt herself smiling wider at Birdies enjoyment, the noise was filled with a musical merriment and it was contagious. 

The women sat outside on the wooden steps and shared another cigarette, they passed this one between them. Bernadette began telling Frankie the childhood story of how she acquired her nickname: Birdie. As a toddler learning to speak, the full ‘Bernadette’ was a incoherent babble so one of her older sisters had shortened it for her to Bernie. But of course the two year old's pronunciation was still being perfected and it changed to Birdie and stuck. 

The image of a baby Bernadette, wobbling around on uncertain feet calling herself Birdie sparked a chuckle from the Italian girl. It prompted her to share her own tale from her youth and the two went back and forth, while one puffed on the smoke the other would share a memory. 

This is how Bernadette learnt of Frankie’s family. Her father worked as a mechanic as did she and her two older brothers before they all enlisted. She was surprised to hear they were both currently deployed in the Pacific theatre of war. 

Birdie shared the information of her own brother, the eldest: Victor, affectionately called Junior as Victor was also their fathers name. He signed up for the US Navy in 1939 and after training was stationed in Hawaii. He was aboard the SS Arizona when it was targeted by the Japanese. He died on December 7th, 1941 in Pearl Harbour. 

He was the reason Birdie and James had signed up. Originally, the southerner was going to put her name down as a nurse but she’d heard of the special program for women and how it would send her to the front lines and she was in, no questions. 

Francesca sympathised, she too had lost a family member. The New York Italian informed her new friend of her seldom talked about parent. Her mother had an incurable sickness and passed away when Frankie was young. Young enough that she barely remembered the woman, she could vaguely picture a face, a warm smile, an encompassing hug, a gentle voice or sweet smell but not much else. 

Most of what she knew of her mother was learnt from pictures or stories her brothers told her. She had asked her father about the woman once and he did not react well. He yelled and hissed at her and stomped off to his room to drink away the memories of his late wife. Frankie never asked him about her mother again.

Bernadette had hugged her after hearing the tragedy. She was incredibly close with her family, especially her mother and couldn’t imagine not having her in her life. Francesca didn’t mind much, she didn’t know anything different, but she accepted the hug anyway, Birdie was warm and the comfort she provided, was needed.

The pack of smokes had emptied over the course of time the two spent bonding, which was their signal to head inside and sleep. 

Which is exactly what they did, sharing a look from across the room as a silent ‘goodnight’. 

—————————— 

As the weeks phased into months Toccoa began to feel more like home. Bernadette had found her footing and slipped into a schedule she looked forward to. Lectures were a welcome break from vigorous PT and the friends she had made were becoming closer and closer everyday. 

Liebgott had gone back to dropping bad natured comments aimed at her the morning after whatever that night was. Although his tone had changed and his words seemed more like attempted jokes. She noticed his lips curling ever so slightly at the edges when he muttered the banter and his genuine distain for her felt fake and put on as if he wanted everyone (including himself) to believe he didn’t like her. She replied with her typical witty comebacks but hers too felt forced like a show for anyone listening. The shift unsettled her to her core but she didn’t really know why, she should be happy Liebgott was finally coming round and didn’t wish her dead… so why wasn’t she? 

On the third day after the entire Harriet debacle, all four men were apprehended. 

Nixon had told Birdie that someone outside of the attackers had confirmed the initial confession, which gave them absolute proof. The three men were dishonourably discharged and sent home in disgrace, while the fourth man was transferred out of the 506 and left Camp Toccoa effective immediately. 

Birdie was pleased to hear the news but couldn’t for the life of her figure out who had told Sink, maybe the men had blabbed to their friends and one of them felt bad? Who knows, it was anyone's guess. 

Birdie didn’t dwell on it too much, instead she had wrote to Harriet and explained the whole story. The ex-How company woman was still recovering weeks later with a broken pelvis and stitches in the back of her head but she had been allowed to move to her home state. She thanked Birdie for her part in finding and punishing her violators and had truly meant it, learning of the men being held accountable had eased her mind. It eased Bernadette’s guilt some but she figured the feeling she couldn’t get rid of would stay with her for the rest of her life, always wondering what might have been.

The two promised to keep in contact and Harriet even invited Birdie to come visit her in San Diego once the war was over. Of course, Bernadette had accepted and found herself picturing California, it became her fantasy, one she would carry with her throughout the years ahead of her. 

The entire regiment was being moved to Fort Benning, marching 137 miles to break some record the Japanese troops held. It took three and a bit days of marching plus a train ride but they reached their destination. 

Fort Benning was set up similarly to Camp Toccoa yet they were so different, it gave Birdie an eerie feeling of familiarity. 

A/N: That was a tad depressing, sorry folks! But Birdie and Frankie bonded over dead loved ones so yay!

Also, finally they’re in Fort Benning, goodbye Toccoa!

~ next-autopsy ~

Chapter fourteen

[plutolauvs]

Thank you for replying, I'll try rewriting the request so it fits-

Can I request a Shuichi x Kokichi's friend!reader? They grew up together, and have the same Ultimate (if that's ok), but reader acts a bit differently from Kokichi, which made Shuichi interested. Reader had the same joyful energy but doesn't lie as much as Kokichi does

One shot or in headcanons about them (reader and Shuichi)

If there's anything else I should change let me know!

shuichi saihara x kokichi's friend!reader >> preferences ! > > [ mainly romantic] > > [slight angst]

BONUS + ‘ ultimate supreme leader ’ reader + specific preferences for killing game

｡˚ 𓂋 💤 photos by: hizoukii (on pinterest)

★ ahhh sorry this took a while. this was such a treat to write, and i hoped the preferences are to your liking :).

───── ✩ SHUICHI 

🗯️ ❭ ❭  you met kokichi a long time ago, just a few years after you were born. the connection ignited so quickly, almost as if it were fate. almost as if he was the soul that was meant to guide, help, and teach you. almost as if he was the soul that was meant to be a part of your struggles. as you two grew up together, he influenced you in some ways that would be a part of your identity, but never enough to have the same reputations. 

❕  when shuichi figured out that you and kokichi were closer than he realized at first, he had mixed emotions about this fact. the mixed emotions were fueled by some of his bitter views towards kokichi. the clear effect of kokichi’s influence on you was more clear to him now, yet not clear enough to be informed of the exact lengths of this influence.

❕  he can’t deny the interest that sparked as he witnessed your behavior. people were somewhat clouded by the fact that you’re just a kokichi, but tamer and less of an annoyance when it comes to lies. 

❕  he feels pulled in by your reputation. he feels an urge to push himself away from you, due to the thoughts that some things would fail, such as having a conversation with you or attempting to see you from a drastically different light. yet in the end of the day, he also felt more intrigued to discover the depths of you, and unravel the thoughts that blinded everyone.

❕  he feels as if he’s more likely to walk away from a conversation feeling less annoyed, and less puzzled by a bunch of lies being thrown at him that he’ll need to pick apart to find the truth, due to you lying less. he finds it even more interesting that you lie less, he wonders what other traits you picked up from kokichi that you express to a lesser extent than him?

❕  shuichi giving you a gift, or suggesting a place for you two to hang out, is always fun. though, one of the most interesting parts is the way you reveal your opinions on some gifts and suggestions. either you share about how your opinion contrasts or compares with kokichi’s thoughts on those things, or shuichi remembers what kokichi’s opinion on those things were. in the rarer moments, you tell shuichi about how kokichi influenced your opinion on some places or gifts.

❕  you’re a bit more blatant when it comes to opening up more than kokichi. you tell shuichi about the stories you’ve been told, the experiences you lived through, and the opinions you’ve gathered. it warms the both of you, and brings you two closer.

❕  with you telling some stories, it’s incredibly expected that you’ll talk about kokichi. going to you and hearing you, shuichi realizes he knows more about kokichi and his background. eventually, you help shuichi have a more-positive opinion towards kokichi, and help him realize some of kokichi’s traits that he hadn’t had a total grasp on before. 

❕  expect you two rambling about a bunch of stuff. shuichi can get insecure about rambling or overthinking about his observances and interests, yet most times you don’t mind it. overthinking, ranting, rambling, are one of the top things that strengthens the bond. he loves how passionate you can be about the things you dislike or like, and your energy as you speak.

❕  sometimes he’ll make a light-hearted joke or comment about how joyful or hyper your energy is. sometimes, he does feel a tad overwhelmed by your energy, or slightly intimidated, though that doesn’t mean that he doesn't find your energy cute. to an extent, he does find your energy admirable. the way you can bring liveliness to others and to him, the way you can bring the life out of him that he forgets about, is something so compelling about you.

❕  shuichi does get slight insecurities about the fact that he can’t always match up with your energy, even when your energy can make him secure at times. in his eyes, he isn’t so interesting, joyful, and even can be a debbie downer at times. of course, this motivates you to tell him the truth about your opinions on his energy and him as a person. 

❕  to you, he’s a bit of a refresher from all the people you attract (kokichi and D.I.C.E) and you feel so secure with him, he’s more grounded, so gentle and so observant. he can be so polite, yet he knows when things are too much and he tries to set boundaries. you love he has his unpredictable moments; how he expresses sass and heat towards someone being a bother (like miu), yet he turns soft a couple minutes later.

❕  sometimes he feels so happy by your presence, he just can’t help and blush. if you throw in a flirty comment (which sometimes you do), he’ll become a total blush and it reminds him about how your unpredictability can be a blessing and a curse.

❕  you help him see things in a positive light, or see the positive side of things. sometimes he helps you realize the cons and negatives of things. you totally help him have tolerance towards certain things (such as kokichi) and you help him associate some things he’s either neutral about, things he tolerate, or even things he dislikes with positivity (like specific movies, books, etc.), due to your joyful nature and/or opinions.

— IN GAME, things would get really tense the more kokichi’s lies and presence affect everyone. there’s kokichi being way more distant from you while also lashing out at you sometimes, as an attempt to keep you away from being involved in his plans and for you to not get the heavy burden of having kokichi’s exact reputation by being so close to him. there’s people avoiding you, dismissing you, having less patience with you, or even lashing out at times, because of your reputation being more damaged as the game goes on, especially when kokichi becomes cryptic or his lies become more stressful and/or harmful.

and then there’s shuichi, who’s struggling with others being negative towards you, struggling to be close to you around others, and struggling with not feeling somewhat tense with you due to kokichi’s actions. the internal conflict just brings more headaches, but he tries to set them aside because he knows you’re struggling and wants to bring comfort into your life. 

— IN GAME, since you possess kokichi’s leadership skills to an extent, you’ll act as a guide for shuichi, knowing that people look up to him. in fact, the longer you survive, the more likely shuichi will accept you as someone being a "co-leader" of sorts, and someone that others should look up to as well, which motivates some people to look up to you to an extent.

you two give each other life in different ways. you two give security to each other in different ways. there’s so many things you two do differently, yet you two always result in feeling safe with each other.

[makerofmadness]

Need help finding original sources of some fanart pieces

ok so for a day or two i was trying to find this one piece of Undertale fanart I'd remembered seeing like definitely over two years ago probably (idk just. It was definitely when I was between 10 and 14) and I made an announcement post on Wattpad (since I'm finally active there again) asking if someone could find it since the only visual aid I had besides my memory was a... surprisingly similar piece of Cookie Run fanart (art that actually reminded me of the image and that's how I remembered it). today one of my pals on there actually found the image and reposted it. The problem is that the original source of the image still can't be found I think, because she said she found it on Pinterest (where it was probably reposted from somewhere else).

and come to think of it, the cookie run fanart piece that had reminded me of it in the first place was ALSO on Pinterest, and I also can't find its source

which is why I'd like to ask if anyone here can track both of them down to wherever they originally came from because I'm dying to know.

the two fanarts, by the way:

(Istg though this is like my new favorite genre of fanart and I just wanna give the artists the attention they deserve if they happen to be on tumblr-)

(also times like this when I realize how frickin' similar the skeleton brothers and the grape siblings are and like. Idk if no one's made a cookietale AU with Vampire and Alchemist in Sans and Papyrus's roles I will riot it's such an obvious thing-)

(But yeah anyway please help me find these images I do not know how to properly use reverse image search. It's been years since I have and I barely even knew what I was going when I did)

EDIT: THE UNDERTALE IMAGE HAS BEEN FOUND!!! Turns out the text wasn't part of the original image. One image down, one left to go!

[fluentmoviequoter]

Literary

Requested Here!

Pairing: college!Victor Vale x fem!reader (literature student)

Summary: You take it upon yourself to show Victor the beauty of literature.

Warnings: fluff, spoilers and references to: The Outsiders, A Merchant in Venice, Invisible Man, The Hound of the Baskervilles, The Lord of the Rings, An Ideal Husband, The Picture of Dorian Gray, Hamlet, Frankenstein, The Most Dangerous Game, Pride and Prejudice. I also reference some of Schwab's other books

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Victor Vale Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

Victor is leaning over a book, scribbling notes every few lines.

“What are you reading?” you ask quietly, sitting beside him.

He flips the book up, showing you the cover of one of his many textbooks.

“Hmm. I thought you were actually reading.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re studying.”

“What’s the difference?”

You sigh, shaking your head as you murmur, “Maybe the two different world we lived in weren’t so different. We saw the same sunset.”

Victor ignores you, returning to his notes on adrenal responses.

“Vic, what’s the last book you read?” you ask. “I mean, what’s the last thing you read that wasn’t a textbook, required reading?”

“I think you know.”

“You really need to stop reading your parents’ books, but that’s not my point here. What’s the last fiction piece?”

“I don’t read fiction.”

Your jaw drops, shock evident in your features as you fail to speak. Finally finding your voice, you momentarily forget you’re in a library as your voice raises to repeat, “You don’t read fiction? Why?!”

“Nothing to learn from it,” Victor replies with a shrug.

“Vic.”

He glances at you as a few people whisper for you to be quiet.

“Why read something that isn’t true, that you can’t learn from?” Victor asks.

“Who says you can’t learn from fiction? Just because it didn’t happen doesn’t mean it can’t teach you something. We learn from trees, fish, paintings… literature is no different.”

Victor shakes his head, and as you look at your assigned reading, you realize you must do something.

“Meet me in your dorm after your class tomorrow,” you whisper before standing. “I have a lot to teach you.”

Victor watches you leave, shaking his head before trying to focus again. He has trouble remembering how you became friends sometimes, but then he remembers how you met…

✯✯✯✯✯

1 Year Ago

Someone decided to put Shakespeare on the top shelf. You sigh, looking around to see if anyone is nearby to help you.

“Who puts one of the most-read authors in history up so high?” you ask under your breath.

Stepping back to gauge if you could jump and reach it, you run into someone. Warm hands land on your biceps for a moment before dropping away.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize.

When you turn around, his arm is over your head.

“Which one?” he asks.

You blink at him, growing distracted, before whispering, “A Merchant in Venice. Please.”

He nods, pulling it off the shelf and lowering it between your chest and his.

“Thank you.”

He nods again and steps back before you rush to introduce yourself.

“Victor,” he offers.

“Nice to meet you, Victor. I’ll see you around.”

His pale brows furrow and you immediately decide you will see him again, no matter what it takes.

✯✯✯✯✯

Present Day

“You’re late,” you chide as Victor enters his dorm.

“How did you get in here?” Victor asks, ignoring your comment.

“Eli keeps a key hidden under the doormat.”

“Idiot,” Victor mumbles.

“I concur, but we’re not here to talk about Eli. In fact, I wish I could forget his name.”

Victor neither agrees nor disagrees, but asks, “What are you here to do?”

You raise your brows, smiling as you tease, “What do you want me to do?”

“I’d like you to leave,” Victor replies flatly. “But it seems unlikely.”

“What and how much had I lost by trying to do only what was expected of me instead of what I myself had wished to do?”

“What is that?”

“Invisible Man, H.G. Wells,” you reply, smiling.

“Why do you make everything about books?”

“Look, I’m here to convince you that fiction, that literature, is beautiful. Vic, there are more lives in literature than we could dream of living; whatever you want to do, learn, be, it’s all in there.”

“Is this going to become another debate on whether pride or prejudice is more detrimental to character development?”

You sigh, looking at the stack of books you brought. Victor watches you, and when he realizes that you’re serious, he removes his trench coat and joins you on the couch.

“You have ten minutes,” Victor tells you.

“Okay, then I get to ask questions, too,” you counter. “So, first, what is your issue with fiction?”

“It’s fake, unbelievable.”

“They don’t have to be about an immortal woman finding her reincarnated lover or parallel earths. Being made up and being unbelievable aren’t inherently connected. Middle-Earth isn’t real, but the imagery makes it realistic.”

“One out of a million, well, I’m convinced,” Victor says, hitting his thighs.

You stretch your arm out past him to stop him from standing. “What kind of fiction did you read before coming to this conclusion?”

“Uh, I remember reading fantasy in middle school.”

Waiting for more, you ask, “And?”

“That’s it.”

Chuckling, you lean toward him. “Literature isn’t about one type of story, Vic. You don’t have to choose a genre and stick to it. No two books are the same because no two people or stories are the same. There isn’t fiction or nonfiction, mysteries or romance, you can read any and everything you want. It’s both/and, not either/or.”

“If your argument is now ‘read what you want to read,’ why can’t I stick to my textbooks?”

You groan, laying your head against Victor’s shoulder. “Because I can’t rest until I help you see why literature is so beautiful and impactful. Why do you think I’m studying it, giving my life to it? Because it changed my life, Victor, and if you give it a chance it can change yours, too.”

“Then what is it you want to do?”

“Is this an invitation?”

Victor sighs as he nods, his shoulder warm from your touch.

“Then, I’m going to teach you and you’re going to be patient and give it a chance.”

“Fine. Where do we start?”

“I mean, your parental trauma is begging for a look at Hamlet, but we’ll ease into it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You intentionally left a copy of Invisible Man by H.G. Wells on his table when you gathered your things after visiting Victor. While you walk to the library to meet him, you hope he’s read it.

“Hey,” you greet softly.

Victor nods, sliding an anatomy book onto the return shelf.

“Glad I caught you while your friends are busy,” you tease, taking the chair closest to him.

“Alone—it is wonderful how little a man can do alone! To rob a little, to hurt a little, and there is the end.”

“You read it. Even though it’s completely unbelievable and unrealistic?”

“All men, however highly educated, retain some superstitious inklings.”

Your eyes widen as you realize that he not only read it in its entirety but enjoyed it enough to remember it.

“Racism, symbolism, foreshadowing,” Victor lists off. “It wasn’t completely incapable of teaching something.”

“Did you just admit you were wrong?”

“No.”

“So, are you open to more?”

Victor shrugs, and you slide a worn copy of The Hound of the Baskervilles to Victor. He picks it up, touching the cracked spine before looking at you.

“Sherlock is famous,” you answer, smiling brightly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Stapleton was a deceiver,” Victor says, rushing to your side as you exit class.

“What?” you reply, surprised to see him.

“The hound- it’s a symbol of his deception and the entire time the moor is symbolizing the cloudiness of the mystery because it wasn’t a real mystery. Stapleton’s death was completely avoidable, yet he isn’t even the one to be attacked by the hound.”

You stop, grabbing Victor’s coat to stop him as well.

“You read the entire book last night?”

“I- I couldn’t put it down,” Victor admits lowly.

“Do you see what I mean now?”

“I’m- I’m starting to. Uh, what next?”

“I don’t have another book for you right now. We can go get-“

“Yes. Please,” Victor adds.

“Ready to try fantasy again?” you ask with a smile.

Victor inhales deeply before nodding. “I trust you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When Victor closes the book, he stares at the cover.

“Well?” you ask. “Don’t say anything bad about Aragorn, that’s all I ask.”

“He and Legolas portray a really- a perfect friendship,” he answers.

“Amity.” Victor glances up at you, and you explain, “Amity is usually associated with Shakespeare. His male friendships were built on this mutual respect and beneficial relationship qualities, but Tolkien used it in his creation of the Fellowship as well.

“I think…” you pause as you look at your overflowing bookshelf. “It’s time for a play.”

“Please no Shakespeare.”

“Okay, one, we need to get you over your irrational fear of the Bard.”

“It’s not irrational, he makes me want to puke.”

“Because he makes you feel things; must be weird for you.”

Victor rolls his eyes, and you smile as you find what you’re looking for.

“Oscar Wilde. An Ideal Husband.”

“What’s it about?”

“An ideal husband.”

Victor huffs, and you quote, “Seriousness would be very unbecoming of him. Pray be as trivial as you can.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Victor, the point of books is to read it the way you’re supposed to read it. And if you want to talk after finding out what it’s about – in your eyes – then we can. As you gain experience it will be easier to find the common ‘accepted’ views too. But the point is to read for yourself.”

“Experience is merely the name men gave to their mistakes.”

You gasp, rushing to stand over Victor. “You’ve read Wilde before!”

“Just Dorian Gray when I was a kid. Thought it might help me escape the cookie cutter I kept getting shoved into.” Noticing your smile, Victor asks, “What?”

“You’re getting symbolic and theme-y. My literature lessons are rubbing off on you.”

“Something certainly is,” Victor replies, looking at your leg pressed to his.

“Are you ready to admit I’m right?”

“Not if it means the lessons end.”

“Oh, never. We’re a two-man book club now, Vic.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Are you here to speak to me as Lord Goring speaks to Mabel?” you ask, blocking the doorway.

“More like Mrs. Cheveley to Robert.”

“If you keep using literature references, I’m going to fall in love with you, Vic.”

“I have a request,” Victor says, drawing your attention (and his) from your comment.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He moves to your bookshelf after you open the door, quickly finding what he’s looking for. He holds it up, and you cross your arms.

“You sure?” After he nods, you say, “Go for it. It’s short, read it here if you want.”

Victor doesn’t have to be told twice, tossing his coat over the back of your couch and making himself comfortable with a copy of Hamlet.

✯✯✯✯✯

“This is too long,” Victor reads.

“It shall be to the barber’s, with your beard,” you reply.

“Don’t spoil it,” Victor reprimands.

“Though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Within a few hours, Victor is done with the play and pacing.

“Still want to read your parents’ books?” you ask.

“Yeah. But- if Hamlet can deal with an actual ghost, I guess their passive aggressive advice isn’t so bad.”

You chuckle before pointing out, “Hamlet was troubled when Horatio, Marcellus, and Barnardo told him. If it assumes my noble father’s person, I’ll speak to it isn’t an outright acknowledgment of who it is. It isn’t until he talks to the ghost that he seeks revenge on his uncle.”

“Which applies to me in no way,” Victor argues.

“What does Hamlet do to get revenge?”

Sighing, Victor answers, “Nothing.”

“Hamlet changes his reaction because of his morals and his thoughts. You can change your view of your parents like that, too.”

Victor sighs, and you see his poorly hidden smile after you say, “Though I personally won’t decide to forgive them for what they did to you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What’s your favorite book?” Victor asks.

You answer without hesitation, then ask, “Why?”

“Can I read it?”

“Sure. If you admit you were wrong.”

“I was wrong. Literature can be good, and it is possible to learn from fiction.” He quiets to add, “And you have good taste.”

You lean closer, turning your ear toward him as you ask him to repeat that.

 “I’m not your Lord Goring or your Mr. Darcy or any other dashing soulmate,” he says.

“No, you’re not,” you agree. “You’re my Victor Vale.”

Victor’s phone buzzes, and he rolls his eyes as he reads Eli’s message.

“Is he still working on the EO thing?” you ask. When he nods, you murmur, “Someone never read Frankenstein.”

“Would I like it?”

Nodding, you sit beside Victor. “Be careful with Eli, though. Books can teach a lot, but anything short of Richard Connell’s The Most Dangerous Game won’t prepare you to deal with him.”

“What’s that about?”

You consider not telling him, but he nudges you with his elbow, and you concede. “A man who hunts other men for sport.”

Victor hums, looking back at his phone. “Can I admit something else?”

“Depends.”

“I didn’t lie about my thoughts on reading, but I learned something else.”

“When?”

“The week you forced me to read Pride and Prejudice.”

“You learned that you must be in want of a wife. I suppose I could be convinced to consider a proposal.”

“No. Darcy taught- he said, ‘My real purpose was to see you, and to judge, if I could, whether I might ever hope to make you love me.’”

Twisting toward Victor, you lay your hand over his heart. “The only people for me are the mad ones.”

“Is that a yes? A maybe?”

“It’s a yes,” you whisper. “I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”

“I don’t know that one.”

“I told you; we’re easing you into it,” you remind him, kissing his jaw and chuckling when his breath catches.

Bonus: 10 Years Later

“What happened in Merit, Victor?” you demand.

Victor stiffens at your use of his name, no ‘Vic’ or pet name. Rather than telling you the exact truth, he takes your hand and says, “I was benevolent and good: misery made me a fiend. Make me happy and I shall again be virtuous.”

You relax, pulling him close as you reply, “We’re not having the argument about you being a monster again, but you know I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.”

Victor returns your hug, and you feel a small paperback in his pocket, smiling at how much has changed.

“The world is made up of two classes – the hunters and the huntees. No one will blame you for this, Vic, but it will never be the same.”

“I have you and your books,” Victor replies. “There is no one more equipped for change than us.”

“I can’t believe you used to be against fiction and now you carry around a barely legible copy of my favorite book.”

“What can I say? It is love. Love, and only love. For both of us a new life is beginning.”

[thesupreme316]

Hey, bestie! I'm in need of some more Ricky Starks content.

Could you maybe do a story about him helping reader to design and decorate their firstborn's nursery? Maybe even a maternity photoshoot?

I GOT YOU BESTIEEEE

Happy Wife, Happy Life (Ricky Starks x Fem!Reader)

Genre: FLUFFIER THAN YA MOMMAS PANCAKES DAMNIT, and failed comedy

Summary: Ricky takes it upon himself to make your pregnancy memorable and easygoing.

Word Count: 1,512 (OF FLUFF)

Supreme Speaks: hey yall this one took me a while (my b, sorry) but I'm very proud of this one. shoutout to my bestie @wwenhlimagines for this request cause I LOVE YOU. I hope everyone enjoys this one and that everyone is doing well. P.S: remember you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: italics=flashback, I think it’s proofread??, reference to Ethan Page, Hook, and Will Hobbs

Taglist: @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @triscillal @diabloguapos @sheinthatfandom

“No, the flowers are supposed to be on the right! What are you, an idiot?” Ricky’s loud voice boomed throughout the studio.

Knowing Ricky, everything has to be perfect. It will be perfect or he will spear everyone in sight. He will not accept anything less, not for you, or his child that is about to pop into the world. After finding out you are expecting a child, he went through all types of emotions. First, being nervous about the baby, your health, your career (he is a feminist, I just know it), and his career.

Then he grew into being sad as he didn’t have everything he wanted before having a kid. Ricky always wanted to have the nicest house in the neighborhood with the nicest cars and have the AEW World Heavyweight Championship on his shoulder with his name engraved on it. As of right now, you two had all except for the latter. Nonetheless, you still encouraged him and reassured him that you didn’t need it all. To which he replied, “You need it all because you deserve it all. Especially because dealing with me and a mini-me.”

So after your pregnancy confirmation, Ricky went out and bought an SUV so it’s comfortable for you and the baby. Then, turned his sparkly ass around and bought something that you never thought you would get in your lifetime.

“Ricky, where are you taking me?” You giggled as you smiled with a blindfold on.

“Nowhere that you need to be worried about it. Watch your step.” He said, carefully guiding you, one hand in your hand and the other resting on your lower back, up a slight hill. “Okay! You can open your eyes.”

You took off the blindfold to your present sitting at the top of the hill.

A house.

The same house that you fell in love with a week ago after you toured it.

The house with the floor plan that was identical to the one on Pinterest.

Your eyes filled up with tears as you looked at the house. And you turned your head to see the ‘sold’ sign. “Ricky, what the hell? You told me-“

Ricky smiled down at you, “I know I told you, we would sign it together. But I also told you that I would anything to make you and our baby will comfortable. I didn’t want you under the stress of this, the baby, and your career. I don’t ever want you to feel overwhelmed about things that I can help with you.”

“Thank you so much. I appreciate you so much, I love you.”

“I love you baby, more than you will ever know,” Ricky said as he was going down to one knee, making you gasp. He went into his pocket and brought out the most beautiful ring you have ever seen in your life. Your eyes started to tear up even more, wiping your eyes with your right hand. “I love you so much. I love how you have been able to be by my side for these years, or the fact that you put up with me and my extravagant, and sometimes problematic, ways. Or the fact that you match me so perfectly in various ways. I know that you are going to be a great mother to our child, just as much as we are going to be a great couple for the rest of your lives. So, Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

With tears streaming down your face, you nodded and said yes. Ricky placed the ring on your finger before getting up. He sweetly kissed you and embraced you.

In a choked-up voice, you said, “Baby…”

“Yes, my beautiful bootylicious bride?”

“Out of excitement, did you leave the car on?”

He quickly escaped from your arms before running to the car while saying, ”Oh shit the gas!”

And now, here you are, 8 months pregnant, sitting in a chair and getting your makeup done; while your darling future husband, is also here…planning and running your maternity photoshoot. He was also yelling at everyone if anything was messed up/out of order. The set was beautifully decorated with neutral tones as you don’t know the gender. You called Ricky over to your area. Upon entering your eyesight, you see a handsome man in a tan suit (matching your dress) jog up to you. Ricky stated, “Baby! You look so good! And is that your favorite perfume I’m smelling?”

With a giggle, you said to him, “Thank you, sweetheart, you look great as well. But you gotta tone it down.”

“Is it the shades? I mean the other shades were a bit flash-“

Cutting him off you said, “No, I’m talking about the way you’re treating the crew. They’re only here to do their job, not you to yell at them.”

“I just want everything to be perfect for you. So perfect that everyone will see how incredibly beautiful my wife is and magazines will be calling us to get the pictures.”

“Well, I don’t know about all of that but the pictures will be perfect; if you apologize to the set decorator who is trying their best.”

“But why-“

“Remember happy wife, happy life.” You stated before closing your eyes for the rest of your makeup. You heard Ricky grumbling as he walked away to apologize. And only from there, you started feeling tranquility, in comparison to the tense atmosphere earlier. Soon you started taking pictures to celebrate the occasion. Your smile only grew larger in pictures as your future husband was making faces and hyping you up from behind the photographer. After at least thirty minutes of taking pictures, Ricky joined in and ya’ll took more photos. With posing ranging from smiles to kisses, to pretending you're the coolest couple on the block.

The photoshoot lasted for two hours before you decided enough. Upon looking at the photos, you and Ricky decided that the ones featured with the two of you will be your wedding announcements. You, and more so he, already had the format in mind. After deciding to call it a day, Ricky packed up your stuff and drove you to your beautiful new home.

As soon as you moved in, you two immediately started decorating the house. And only, for your pregnancy, you and Ricky were sleeping in the bedroom downstairs (so you wouldn’t have to go up and down the stairs). It was smaller than your master bedroom, but you made it work. As you were waddling past the kitchen to the bedroom, Ricky told you to wait because he had a surprise for you. He gently grabbed you by the hand and lead you towards the stairs. After going up the stairs slowly and one step at a time, per your significant other’s request, he started to lead you toward the door that was designated for the baby’s nursery.

You opened the door to see the once-empty room, fully decorated with an aesthetic of a cute and baby-friendly jungle. Shades of green, white, and brown started to take up your eyes. Your mouth opened in disbelief as you noticed as the items from your Amazon and Target cart were actually in front of you. “Do you like it?” Ricky asked with a smile, making you look at him.

“I love it!” You exclaimed as you felt a kick in your stomach. “And so does mini-you.”

“That’s because they got their daddy’s taste.” He smiled as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. 
You smiled as you thought back to when you kept receiving large packages day after day when you moved in. “So now I know what all those boxes were.”

“Yeah, you had a lot in your cart Miss. Thing. It took me, Tyler, Will, and Ethan two weeks to put all this together. That crib was a nightmare.”

You turned around and softly kissed your fiancé, “Well, it’s nice to know that you would go through a nightmare to make my dreams come true.”

Ricky all while rubbing your stomach, kissed your head and then your lips. “Sweetheart, I would anything to see you and our child happy. All you gotta do is say so.” Your child kicked again, making his smile grow even more.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you looked up at him, “Well there is another thing that would make me very happy.”

“Name it my beautiful soon-to-be bride.”

“Move the crib, it’s on the wrong wall.” Ricky leaned his head back, groaning. You giggled as you went to go sit down on the rocking chair, rubbing your stomach. “Hey, you said anything.”

He whispered to himself as he pulled off his blazer, “I need to watch my words more carefully.” Then he spoke louder, “Do I have to?”

“Remember, happy wife-“

He cut you off while getting ready to move the crib, “Yeah, yeah, happy life.”

And a happy life it will be, with your bundle of joy in the world soon and you being the one and only, Mrs. Ricky Starks.