#i like to think she's getting ready to dance barefoot :)

[greeneyed-thestral]

I MET MICHAEL SHEEN. 16/03/24, National Theatre

So, if you've read my post about booking tickets to see Michael, you know all about my what-ifs. But the day was finally here.

I arrived at the National Theatre, followed all the Nye signs and here's the Olivier Theatre. I made my sister buy me the show's programme, hoping I would be able to get it signed.

I find my seat, I'm not in the centre but the stage still feels very close and you can see everything (amphitheatres are always the best).

Lights out. The audience is in religious silence. Can't believe I'm actually here, this is happening.

[skip this part in smaller font, if you want to avoid spoilers] In the words of Staged, he really loses himself in his roles. First of all, it's great to hear him speak in a Welsh accent.

But then we also see him turning back into a child, and you can totally believe he's young and innocent again. His stutter feels so real, his struggle and sadness too. The entire ensamble is great during the classroom scene, where they all help Nye against their bullying teacher (using those big canes to make him look scary really works). Hearing young Nye confessing that at times he thinks he 'shouldn't exist' because of who he is was a gut punch; Michael's delivery of that whole part is incredible, in that moment he really becomes a little boy that allows himself to feel vulnerable and says something dark to a friend. The way he jumps while saying "I can visualise and enunciate!" made me wanna jump too, he was ready to give up and then he found the solution through books, it's the joy and relief you feel when you realise that there is another way and your life is not over.

Now, I've watched musicals all my life and let me tell you that man is meant to be in one. He opened his mouth and all I could see was someone that had been waiting a long time for the occasion to show his talent, truly showstopping. He was so free and happy and confident, singing and dancing spectacularly. I couldn't stop smiling and giggling, we all clapped.

It's clear he means every word he says, and when he points and shouts his political arguments at the audience, those who feel called out must be shaking; I thought 'This is how people in Ancient Greece must have felt everytime they went to the theatre'. His Nye is inspiring, passionate, someone you'd want to follow, he stands up for what he believes in and lets nothing get in his way.

We get to watch him flirt, on all fours, waggling his 'tail'; everytime we think we've seen all he's capable of, he does something like this and surprises us.

But most of all, we see him being scared, first of having to do something, and then of not being able to do enough for all of us. At one point everyone has requests for Nye and I was expecting him to shout "Heal yourselves!" like Jesus in JCS, it totally conveyed what it must have been like to be in his role at the time, overwhelmed with daunting responsibilities.

In general, I appreciated the fact that it wasn't a linear biography, they chose life moments that have universal situations everyone can relate too, like they do in bio-musicals. I loved the staging. The colour palette is so recognisable; the curtains and the beds are used in many different ways so everything is explored at its full potential.

He is on stage basically all the time for more than two hours (sometimes twice a day, can you imagine?). Also barefoot and in his pajamas from start to finish, he looks like a teddy bear you just want to hug and protect.

He bows, looks at Nye's achievements, then leaves the stage.

Standing ovation, applause. I go back to the theatre lobby, I was supposed to wait for my sister, but she's late. Meanwhile, a fan asks me how to get to the Stage Door. I start too fear that I'm going to miss my chance if I keep waiting inside, so I decide to go on my own. After no more than 5 minutes, he's outside with us. Forget Nye, I am living my fever dream. He has just finished his second show of the day and yet he's smiling and listening to each and every one, signing and taking pictures. I know many have said this, but he really is an angel.

My sister arrives, and as soon as I'm sure she has the camera ready, I make my way to him. The two girls next to me who were speaking to him needed a pen and I lent them my sharpie, so I got my chance to look generous in front of him.

And suddently it was my turn. This is as much as my scrambled mind allows me to remember: I tell him I'm Francesca and I'm from Italy, he asks me how long I am going to stay, I confess that I had arrived that morning and just to see him, that I would be leaving already the following morning. I can't even focus while he's signing my programme, I just want to find the right words. I manage to say how I enjoyed seeing his passion, all these different sides of him and how watching him sing and dance has been the highlight of my evening. We take a picture together, I feel his hand on my shoulder and I realise my arm is around the waist of this person I love. I had to thank him again, telling him that he only deserves good things and that we are so lucky to have him. He wishes me a safe trip home, and I melt. I leave and I can't stop trembling. On my way back to the hotel I hold on tight to my signed programme and the sharpie that was in his hands just moments earlier. Only later I will realise that he's also written 'Ciao!', 'love' and 'X', without me asking for it or anything! Seeing him act live was a big gift already, but what followed outside was beyond my dreams. I can't look at the photos without blushing, the way he looks at me in the video and then also strokes my arm for a moment, I mean pinch me now.

The more I think about it, the more I can't believe it happened.

I want to thank everyone that under my first post pushed me and encouraged me to see the pros of doing this, I share this beautiful moment of my life with all of you. <3

[tbgblr2]

Giving birth the au natural way

This is a reworking of a roleplay I had recently with @allkindsofpreg

Hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed working on it :)

---

Our midwife was surprisingly agreeable. Which was a shock… first time, clueless parents being left to their own devices to bring forth a baby wasn’t exactly many couples idea of a good time, but for us, we were prepared and ready. We much preferred our own company as much as anyone else’s, and let’s be honest, we find we can be ourselves more when we don’t have a room of people watching us. So we booked the retreat our midwife recommended to us. 2 houses in an area of nothingness, one for us, one for her. We paid through the nose to book them for 2 weeks but we had to be sure so we booked 1 week either side of your due date. We’d spent a week here getting set up when early morning came on your due date accompanied by some mild, but noticeable cramping. A text to the midwife, and a reply saying she was on her way - but if we didn’t need her just let her know when the baby was born and she’d come and do the medical checks.

You swallowed a big gulp of fresh woodland air as you stood on the patio area, the weather thankfully warm enough to not need to wrap up. You were barefoot and wearing a light top and shorts set that you had been sleeping in - by rights should still be sleeping in - but the cramps were getting you excited - you’d waited 9 months for this moment.

You gathered up the hem of your top to rest on top of the impressive expanse of your stomach. The muscles there tightened again and, closing your eyes, leaning against the doorframe. The gentle breeze felt cool against your flushed skin. You pressed a hand to the spot you could feel our little one kicking out against.

“I know, it’s not comfortable for you either, is it?” Another kick in response confirmed it and you smiled. “Well it won’t be long now.” Hopefully, anyway.

You wandered back in the house to scour the kitchen for some light breakfast— you were going to need the energy later. You were just about to pour a glass of orange juice when you felt my arms slide around your pregnancy-expanded waist, my body moulding around your back. You leaned back into me and rested your head against my shoulder. “You should go back to bed,” you mumbled, but I made no move to let you go. “Might be a while before we get another chance.”

“I heard you correctly earlier, and I’ll be damned if you think I’m missing any of this” I say, kissing the back of your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. I release off you and fill the coffee machine and set it to brew “though I suspect I might need this” I say with a grin.

I walk to the door you were recently outside of and look out to the sunrise just starting to poke above the horizon.

“Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day to watch a beautiful woman do something beautiful with our baby”

The smell of freshly brewed coffee brought with it a longing. Technically it was fine for you to have a cup, but the nerves were already starting to build and the whole point of coming out here was to keep everything calm and peaceful. Besides, the baby didn’t seem to like it and nauseous was the last thing you wanted to be right now. You just decided to stick with toast and juice.

By the time you had finished preparing your food, the coffee was finished also, so you poured some into a campfire mug and joined me on the patio.

“I’m glad we’re doing this here,” you said, handing over the cup and taking in the view with me. You placed down your plate, and hands now free, you placed them at your hips and arched backward, pulling your shoulder blades together and stretching your lower back. It made your belly stick out even more and caused your shirt to ride up about halfway, getting stuck there even when you straightened back up. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “What? You find this sexy?” you asked, rocking your hips and rolling your huge tummy around in a little mock seductive dance. “Enjoy it now, before it’s gone!”

I moved around in front of you, my hands clasping around the belly, warm to the touch. I can’t help but smile. “I’ll enjoy it as much as I can… then the next… then the next one after that” I punctuated each statement with a kiss. Suddenly I feel your belly tense and you betray the moment with a slight wince “was that a contraction?” I ask.

“Mmm,” you hummed in confirmation, leaning into my touch and letting out a slow breath, your hands finding purchase on my forearms. This one held on a bit longer, sharpening at its peak, and your grip tightened considerably— your anchor as the pain washed over you. Your stance widened, your knees bend as I supported you and coached you to sway in time with your breaths. Even when it passed you kept your hold on me, looking into the distance and laughing a little breathlessly.

“I guess they started last night,” you admitted, a little sheepishly. “But it was the same as I’d been feeling for weeks now and, I don’t know, I guess I thought labor would feel… different somehow. But they’re definitely closer together now. And stronger.” The aftershocks of that last cramp still twinged and tugged. “So I guess todays the day?”

“We can only hope” I say with a smile. My phone buzzes with a text, I pick it up and read it - it’s from the midwife. She’s texting to say she just arrived and she was going to get bedded down and for us to ring her in case she’s needed - she’d keep her phone on loud so it would wake her. I casually comment that she’s made good time but not really surprising considering the time of day it is.

We hold each other close looking out over the brightening morning.

“Want to go for a walk?” I enquire, “might help get things established? I’ll be nice and even help you get your shoes and socks on!”

Considering you hadn’t been able to reach your feet for some time now, you gladly accept my offer. Grabbing some stretchy leggings and a t-shirt from the dresser, your gaze lingers on the little stack of newborn onesies folded up on top - you give your tummy a little pat—it’s hard to believe that soon there’s going to be a whole new person in the world. You admit you’re going to miss this, the feeling of having someone growing inside me, but you suspect you won’t have to miss it for long. We want a big family.

We start out along the same path we’ve been walking every morning, but only barely make it past the tree line when another contraction hits. You try to walk through it at first, but of course I notice and suggest we take a rest and remind me that this is why we’re here—it’s not a race, we’re not trying to force anything, we’re just going to listen and respond and let it happen.

After an hour, your clothes are stuck moulded to your skin, your hips are aching, and we’re still only halfway through the loop. “This is a lot harder than it was yesterday,” you say, still slightly hunched and out of breath from the latest contraction.

I stop and rub your back, the feeling eliciting a groan of appreciation from you, I then say “come on let’s do the thing”

You smile knowing what I mean. You stretch out, straightening your back as I come in behind you. Reaching around and crossing my hands under your belly I pull up relieving the pressure on your back and hips immensely. Your sigh of relief was glorious. We stood there for a good minute just rocking side to side in the strange form of embrace until you reach down and grab at my hand. The next contraction was building, and I could feel everything in your belly between my fingers. You grunt as the feeling builds, gripping my forearm more and more. The feeling doesn’t last long, 30 seconds at most, but it had only been around 10 minutes since your last one - you were keeping track. They were definitely speeding up.

As your grip lessens on my arm signalling the end of the pain I lower your belly and gradually let go, accompanied by a ‘whump’ sound expelled from you as you took back over the weight.

Still behind you I wrap my arms in the gap between your breasts and the top of your belly hugging you close.

I whisper close to your ear, something about the early morning and complete quiet not wanting me to speak too loudly as I say “sorry baby, I had to… let it go”

Of course the last words were said in a song-song tone as you groaned - nothing to do with the contractions this time. I apologise with “so I started the dad jokes a little bit early.”

You feel a little roll and then a kick up somewhere near your rib cage. “See? Even the baby is protesting,” you whine, rubbing at the tender spot. Alright, maybe you’re a little cranky at having to bear the full weight of gravity again. But it gives you an idea. “Lake?” you suggest.

It’s another two contractions before we get to the clearing, but it’s so worth it. The lake is surrounded by mountains on one side, forest on the other, and the water is crystal clear and still quite cold. I give you a skeptical look, but you’re determined. “It’s warming up now that the sun’s up,” you reason. “Or maybe we’ll just have to huddle together for warmth,” you suggest with a waggle of your eyebrows, without hesitation you pull off your shirt and kick off the shoes you would not be able to put back on by yourself. The leggings are too clingy and stuck to bother trying to take off, so they’re all you’re wearing as you begin to wade into the fresh water.

You take a step in and all the air leaves my lungs in one whoosh. It. Is. Cold. But now here you are, topless, one foot in the water, back straining, and another contraction starting with no feasible form of relief in sight. Suddenly the pressure spikes and this baby feels so heavy pressing down inside you. You let out some noise of surprise or discomfort and I'm there in an instant.

I wade into the water throwing off my top and tossing it into the rough area where your pile of clothes are, my own trousers and shoes still on and soaked through.

“Babe!” you call, though I’m already there—a question, a plea.

I grab hold of your hand as you squeeze for all you’re worth, the pain of the contraction evident. You’re clearly having a difficult time as you let out a low pitched moan as your grip tightens and tightens against my hand. Suddenly you release, gasping a breath out.

“You OK?” I enquire. You nod, not able to speak. A few seconds later you manage “that was a rough one, hope there aren’t too many like that” with a weak smile.

I return the smile to you as your hands release mine and you rub them over my body. “My big strong hero diving into the water to save his damsel in distress”

I gulp, noticing the chilled water having an obvious effect on your nipples, they had already gotten big and dark with the onset of your milk coming in, and now they poked out almost as long as a finger to the first knuckle.

You follow my eyes and see where I have spotted.

“Nipple stimulation is good to bring on contractions you know” you purr at me.

I don’t need to be told twice my hands paw at your breasts, your voice betraying a giggle as I move to the nipples, water from the lake leaving them slippery as my fingers tug and squeeze them. Your hands move from my body to both sides of your belly as you groan - at first with the pleasure of my touch then finally with the effects of another contraction starting its journey on you.

“I guess it works,” you note before the full force of the contraction takes hold, grabbing onto my shoulders and resting your forehead against mine, breathing in and out slowly along with me as the pain crests. It still hurts, but at least the water is taking off some of the pressure and you’re able to stay present through the whole thing.

When it’s over, you slide your hands down my arms and position me hands back on your breasts. “I think we’re getting the hang of this whole ‘labour’ thing,” you say with a grin as I continue my previous ministrations. You initiate a kiss and push yourself deeper into my grasp and chuckle as you’re brought up short by the belly between us.

Your hands find their way to my chest, my hips, then dip down beneath the waistband of my pants. It’s not exactly an ideal temperature for this, but you still hear my grunts of pleasure as you stroke, massage and tug.

We pause for another contraction—your grip moving a safe distance away from anything particularly sensitive—and you bury your face into the crook of my neck with a groan. The vocalizations help, a long, sustained note that rises in volume, but breaks when the contraction becomes too much and you switch to releasing short puffs of air. When you’re finally able to take a full breath again, you lift your head and look into my eyes. “Maybe we should start heading back.”

“You’re the boss, princess” I grin as I follow you out of the water, watching it drain off down your hips and ass as you get closer and closer to the edge. You give a little wiggle as you feel my hand pressed against your soaked through bottoms making contact with your ass cheek and I’m reminded of the caress you gave me in the water, my own length stiffening at the thought once again. We finally reach the waters edge and find a tree stump for you to sit on as I dry off what I can of your feet using my top before sliding your shoes back on again. I give you a hand putting your own top on as I pull on my own - now wet and sticking to my body, as I give you a hand up and we start our slow, squelching walk back to the cabin.

“Right now I want a nice warm shower” I say, you nod as another contraction picks up. You’re now at the point where you’re coping by vocalising, you stop moving as the contraction is upon you. You groan something in between your moans about the head feeling so low and how much your hips hurt that I come in behind you and squeeze my hands tight against your hips, pressing to try and help.

The force of my hands adds a nice bit of respite for your overtaxed back and pelvis, but it does little to counter the powerful pressure barrelling down in your core. You can’t speak, can’t stand up

straight, can’t focus on anything besides the air moving in and out of your lungs, and even that is a struggle.

Between the increasingly frequent contractions and your slow walk turning into an even slower waddle, the trip back from the lake takes at least twice as long as it did to get there. Our destination is in sight when another contraction hits and you grab onto my forearms—it’s a routine by this point—and bend your knees, getting into a gentle squat in front of you. Everything feels swollen and tight and impossibly full as your womb compresses. You start to wonder if your water breaking would relieve some of that painful tension.

Finally, we make it back and the shower is big enough for a party, so there’s easily enough room for both of us and the birthing ball we’d brought. I start the water, help strip you out of your wet and sticky clothes, and get you situated on the ball before getting myself ready and joining you in there. The warmth—and my hands—soothe your tight muscles as you roll your hips in gentle circles on the ball. It’s almost as if you can feel the head moving down with the force of each contraction and as a result you keep your legs splayed wide. More than once you catch my eyes lingering on your feminine curves. With more than a little assistance, you get up and have me take your seat on the ball; then you sit on my lap facing me, your belly pressing into me, your legs wrapped around mine in invitation.

The slippery ball coupled with the slippery occupants take a lot of my concentration to stay stable as you climb onto my lap, but wrapping your arms around the back of my neck helps keep us upright.

Your belly presses tight against me as you continue to writhe and wriggle as you huff and pant in my ear, your forehead pressed against mine.

I find myself getting hard at the closeness of your body and you react to the feel of the bulge pressing against the underside of your belly by rocking back and forth teasing both it and me.

My hands grip behind your back as you writhe, as I manage to get what little purchase I can on your slippery skin.

The contraction snuck up on you, your mind elsewhere as the all too familiar tightening ramped up, causing you to lean back and grip hard on my shoulders. You suddenly squeal as you feel a release. Whilst the obvious splash was lost in the water running within the shower, your waters had broken, and the sudden realisation that the baby’s head is just right on the cusp of appearing at your lips has you start shaking with anxiety, knowing you’re getting closer to having to push.

“Oh!” Even though you’ve been expecting it, waiting for it, the sudden release still takes you by surprise. Without the cushion of the amniotic sac the head descends quickly and violently, locking into your canal like a dislocated joint popping back into place. “Ohhh,” the exclamation quickly turns into a groan—the new wave of pressure that comes with this contraction is intense and your hand automatically reaches between your legs. There’s nothing there to touch yet, but you swear it feels like the baby is about to fall right out of you.

You slide off my lap and settle into a deep squat. Your breaths are coming in short, frantic gasps and the water running down your face makes it difficult to take in air, so you pitch forward onto your knees, resting your crossed forearms on my thighs and burying your head between my knees. Any other time the gesture would be most salacious, but right now all you want is to get through this contraction without drowning. I do my best to pull your hair back and shield you from the shower head, you manage to pant and curse your way through the worst of it.

You say we need to get out of here, to dry off and get to wherever we want to be for the birth, but even when it’s over you can’t bring yourself to unfurl from your current position. I presume you must be comfortable, as we stay this way for several seemingly back-to-back contractions that leave you trembling, nauseous and a little bit lightheaded. The weight in your hips seems to keep you anchored to the ground.

You recall reading about what labour would be like, how difficult and painful and relentless the transition stage usually is, but some part of you thought that preparing for it would make you more equipped to handle it. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” you admit, though you’re not sure I can hear your muffled voice over the water spray. Not that you have any choice.

Maybe I did hear you, or maybe I just know you well enough to sense that you need to change positions, because before you realise, the water is shut off and you’re on your feet, wrapped in an oversized towel and my embrace.

I assist you out of the shower and we plod slowly and deliberately step by step into the main living room. Your walking stance still has a widespread gait, almost like you had stepped out of a long day in the saddle, but I know it’s just subconscious with you trying to relieve the pressure on your hips.

I lead you forward to the sofa, where I guide your hands to the armrests on one side. You grab hold and drop down into a partial squat, bouncing a little on your thighs. "Let me get something down here, don’t want to make too much of a mess" I grin, though I think the expression is lost on you, entirely focusing on the weight in your pelvis.

I stroke your back and give it a rub as I step away and grab a few more towels, placing them on the seat and around in front of it. I suspect both the wooden floor, and the faux leather seats would wipe up fine, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

I hear a groan coming from you and look up to see you swaying your hips in a figure eight pattern. You look up and lock eyes with me, you give me a quick smile as if to say that you're OK, and I return the grin with "It's all going as it should baby, you're doing really well. I love you and you're doing a wonderful job."

You suddenly squat down low, using the chair arm as support, roaring as you dip down. I scramble to the side to make sure that there's nothing obvious happening spying a long trail of mucus dripping onto the floor from your crotch. I lift the back of the towel up, exposing your ass as you manage a moment of strained speech "can you see anything?"

"Sorry baby, no." I don’t mention the long trail of slime which I wipe off with the towel. There's no obvious bulging around your lips however. You give a dejected sigh. "I think you were doing really well there when you were using gravity to help, so lets get back to what we were doing in the shower, but maybe a little more upright?"

You nod, and let me take hold of you as I lead you around to the seat. I sit down on it, still noticeably dripping water from the shower from me, and you stand in front of me as I lower myself down. You then drop down into a squat between my legs, your belly hanging low almost touching the ground you squat is that deep - you use my knees and thighs as support. My hands reach over to your shoulders and squeeze as you turn your head slightly and nuzzle into my left hand. The brief moment of calm is lost when the next contraction picks up though, and you're soon roaring out loud once more.

You want to push, but know the urge is coming more from your head than your body. You catch yourself wishing for this to just be over and take a moment to refocus on the present moment. As the next contraction builds, you close your eyes and let your body do what it wants, what it needs.

Your grip on my thighs tightens, concentrating the tension there to allow the rest of your body to relax. Your hips are still restless but keeping them open feels right, so you continue to sway in your deep squat, shifting your weight as your knees swing left, and right, left, and right. You focus the sounds leaving your mouth into one long, sustained hum, the tone increasing in volume and pitch as the pressure intensifies. The pain starts deep in your core and radiates outward, wrapping around your butt, thighs and creeping up your spine and up to your shoulders.

You throw your head back suddenly, arching your back and pulling up against gravity’s strong downward force. The noises in your throat shift to a series of primal whining moans – your whole body trembles as it attempts to deal with the shocks of pain centralized in your core. Just when you think you will surely be split in two, it dulls just enough for you to find my eyes, my focus, my excitement and then you remember… yes, you’re excited too.

I stand with you in the small breaks between contractions to give your knees a break, but the breaks get smaller and smaller and soon there’s not even enough time to change positions before another one is upon you. You don’t want to be stuck in that position, so instead you follow me to a seated spot on the couch. It’s deep enough so that you can settle between my legs and rest your back up against me. I pepper kisses along the line of your shoulder and up your neck as you twist your head so I can place one on your lips. My hands are molded to your generous swell, you placing yours over the top of them, interlocking our fingers as another relentless wave begins.

You pant, moan and writhe through another two contractions before the pressure in your ass and back becomes unbearable - your tailbone feeling like it’s going to snap. You know it must be the baby’s head moving down. Time must be passing, but you don’t know how long it is before the frenzied onslaught of contractions begins to slow and you feel like you can finally take a breath again.

You stand up and sit on my knee, pivoting in the position to swing one of your legs over my thigh, turning yourself sideways so that you can look up at me.

“Hi,” you say, and giggle as I give your bum an affectionate little squeeze. “I think it’s time to decide…” you pause, suddenly filled with nervous energy. I pull you in close, rub your tummy and wait for you to continue. The next contraction confirms it—the feeling, the urge that’s been building slowly until this moment when it now seems so obvious—you try to get the words out but you’re quickly tensed and grunting, trying your best not to be completely consumed by it.

“Need to decide—“ a quick huff, “where I’m going—“ a groan, “hnngh, to start pushing!” you finally yell, slamming backward into me and panting so quickly and heavily that it looks like you’re shaking. One of my hands grabs fiercely onto yours. The other disappears between your legs.

My mind recalls the bits of training and insight given to us by the midwife after we told her we wanted to go it alone. She was supportive, but of course insisted that she was nearby in case anything went wrong. She showed us a demonstration of dilation, and let me practice on a training dummy to see what the different stages felt like, so I was prepared. She explained it was often normal to feel like you need to push too early, so you were pushing against your own muscles rather than pushing into an open hole… it wasn't recommended.

My fingers entered into you, resulting in a small gasp. I immediately noticed how wet your passage was, presumably from the waters breaking, but thankfully I had no issue with snaking my fingers deeper and deeper. What shocked me first was how close to the entrance your cervix was - we had tested early in the pregnancy to see how deep I needed to feel back there, and to be blunt, it was painful pressing in that hard.

I felt the head at that point, my finger tracing around the circle of the entrance, a definite difference in texture between your muscles and the head of the baby. My face beamed. You looked at me quizzically. I replied "I can feel the baby, its right there, you're almost ready to push."

You managed a giggle and a strained sigh as you say "I know, I told you that, don't you doubt me young man when I tell you a need to find somewhere to push."

I look apologetic, but the mirth in your eyes gives away the fact you were just teasing me.

"Lets go outside…" I suggest, pausing a second, half expecting you to say no, that you were too vulnerable like this. You didn’t say anything. I continued. "I figure we wanted the natural air, the calming environment… and I don’t want to think I blew up the air mattress for nothing."

You giggled, but were cut short by another tensing pain. As we hold each other, you groan and howl, but start to wriggle off my lap. I question what the rush is, and you manage between panting breaths "don’t… know… how… long… I can wait."

I walk you over to the door, where you grab onto a chair back from the kitchen table sat by the large window overlooking the wilderness. I first grab hold of a pair of shorts - realising that if someone should walk past, it would be easier to avoid a public indecency charge for you than it would be for me - then pull open the door and rush back in to grab the air mattress I'd blown up the first day we got here.

As I dragged it and hefted it up to get it out the door, you pleaded at me to hurry. Your face showed genuine concern.

I took the mattress down the couple of stairs to a picnic area set outside the house. There was a cleared, grassy area next to it which didn’t have any significant amount of branches or any other sharp things which may burst the mattress, dashing back up for you, I led you down the few steps until you got to the mattress, lowering you down to your hands and knees.

You wasted no time at all, pushing back on your hands and thighs, you groaned, held your breath and gave your first push.

After so many hours of passive endurance, pushing with the contraction actually feels good. It almost seems to counter the internal pressure—almost—like finally being able to sneeze after your nose tickled all day. But it’s still your first time doing it and you’re not used to trying to focus and control those innermost muscles.

You rock back and you’re sure you look ridiculous with your ass high up in the air, but you feel my hands rubbing all along your thighs, coaxing you to relax and keep your hips open wide. For the first few contractions you try holding your breath and pushing as hard as you can for as long as you can. However, all that does is make you lightheaded and tired - and frustrated - that it seems to be fruitless.

I sense your growing impatience and ask if you want me to count for you and coach your pushes. You nod, and when you tense with the next contraction, I start at ten and work my way down to

one. You’re determined to keep going, but I tell me that it’s okay to let go and take a break for a second, that the baby is making its way down and it’s okay to breathe for a moment. You release a pained moan and try to pull in enough air to make it through another push. You’re trying to follow along with my instructions, but between being unable to see my face or feel your progress, having to balance on shaky arms on a shaky mattress… well, it’s just not working like that in this moment.

Carefully, you lower myself down so that you’re lying on your side, belly and head resting on some of the nest of pillows I’d brought out with us. Your knees are bent, one leg resting on the bed and the other flared out so you’re open like a clamshell. I sit toward the base of the mattress by your bent legs, my body angled toward yours so you can see me and your free leg can rest in my lap or over my shoulder. I also have a good line of sight as to what’s happening between your legs.

This puts a bit of unwelcome pressure on your hips, but for the most part this feels better—just as it was this morning, the breeze is fresh and cool against your skin allowing you to focus on my face and what your body is telling you. When another contraction starts, you hook my arm into the crook of my knee and pull it back toward your shoulder - as best as you can around your large stomach. Instead of holding your breath you release it slowly, squeezing your core and curling forward until you run out of air, then inhale just as slowly before repeating the process until the contraction begins to wane.

You lower your leg back down around my waist, put a hand on your belly, and look up at me with a smile. “That was good,” you say, finally feeling like you’re getting into the rhythm of this stage.

I plant a kiss on the top of your knee and join with you in feeling the firm swell that holds our child. “Just let me know if I can do anything” I offer with a little laugh.

Several contractions later you request that I begin holding your leg back—the urge to bear down is becoming overwhelming and you find yourself lost in it and unable to do anything else. The pressure is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, and every push feels like something is on the verge of cracking, bursting or tearing.

You’re holding your breath again, but only for a few seconds at a time—it’s all you can manage before the instinct to recoil from the pain takes over. It’s changing now—sharpening, burning—and you let out a sharp cry, your body jerking as your knees try to snap shut against my firm grip. I hold you in place, letting you squeeze me in a death grip even as I wrangle your legs to ensure your hips stay open. I try to rub a comforting hand along your stomach, thighs, and bum. You know you must be making progress when you feel me stretching and circling your vaginal opening, trying to prepare you for what’s to come. I give a few playful flicks to your clit, as if to make you forget how bad that last round of pushing felt. It works and you grind down on my hand, pushing it deeper into your folds.

“How- how close?” you ask, still panting despite the contraction being over.

“You’re doing really well” I say enthusiastically, “Each time you push, you bulge out… a few more and I might even start to see the head peeking out.”

You seem to visibly grow bolder at the news, renewing your stamina as you pull back your leg again, once more hooking it over my shoulder. I lean in with my hands, pressing lightly against the bulge forming in your vagina, the first outward signs of the head attempting to make its way, with your help, into the world.

Each push brings with it a groan of effort, and several huffing breaths as I keep count for you, trying to keep your focus on the task at hand rather than allowing your mind to wander and lose track of the progress rather than just concentrating on the pain in each rush of effort.

You push your crotch into my hands, wiggling a little as I stretch out my thumb in response and rub it slowly in circles around your clit. Your groans intensify to shouts, making me pause my actions, but you gasp in between breaths that its helping, and I shouldn’t stop. I leaned forward as best I could with your leg still up in the air on my shoulder and kissed the bottom of the bump, all the playful and affectionate touching resulting in your smile back at me as the contraction finally finished.

Another three, maybe four pushes later, and finally, the first outward signs of the baby appear at your lips, the teardrop shape stretching out over a tiny fraction of the head.

I almost jump with enthusiasm. “I can see it’s head baby… you’re doing so well… keep that effort up.” My gleeful sounds give you another burst of stamina, as you double up your efforts for the next push, straining hard.

“Easy baby… remember, it’s a marathon, not a sprint. You can’t force it. Take it nice and slow and you’ll get there sooner than you know.” You’re left panting by the exertion of the last attempt at pushing.

Of course, as much as there was some visibility of the head, it soon slipped back in again, your lips closing up around it as the push was let off, but between us, we both knew we had passed another milestone.

Your hand snakes down between your legs and feel around, realising that you couldn’t feel the head, and a little crestfallen, you start to take your hand away.

I grab your hand before you can remove it and put it back into place, using my fingers to separate your lips. Your fingers probe in and just inside, you feel it too, the slick, slightly spongy texture of the head of our baby.

“Keep it there on the next push” I say, as you nod, and once more the need to push is upon you. Feeling your finger being moved out as the head moves out, whilst only a fraction of an inch, gives you more motivation to carry on, and you’re suddenly beaming at me with your smiling face, the awe of the moment capturing you entirely.

“I feel it. I feel it!” Your finger traces a line up and down the slit between your folds—it’s still small and tight, but even your laughter causes the head to bob in and out of sight. “Hi, baby,” you coo, then look up at me and suddenly you’re overcome with emotion. “We’re about to be- parents,” you manage, biting back a happy sob.

I smile down at you, wiping away a stray tear and cupping your cheek tenderly before moving my hand down to the crest of your stomach. Another contraction starts but you’re still processing your feelings so I give the thigh you have tucked around my shoulder a little squeeze. “Don’t cry now, love, you’d only just got your breathing under control!”

You laugh, but I’m right— your body is demanding that you push and you’ve got to actually get the baby out before we can officially celebrate. You’re reminded of just how much work there is left to do when your next few pushes do little to reveal any more of the head. With my help, your knee is pulled back almost to your shoulder opening you up wide, you have one arm wrapped around the perimeter of your belly as I keep my palm pressed against your opening. The mound presses out and

recedes in time with your efforts, refusing to retain any progress despite giving everything you have to the pushes.

“You’re doing amazing,” I assure you, and you scoff in disagreement. “You are! You’re stretching, opening up nicely for our baby.”

You might have mumbled something about our baby inheriting an unnecessarily big head from me, but the truth is the baby is just big all over—at our last appointment, they estimated 9lbs+ if you made it to your due date… which is today. You groan and make another attempt at the seemingly impossible task, it always feels like you’re making progress until you stop pushing and it all disappears back into your tight folds.

You rest your leg back down at my side and reach your arms up to me. “I need to move again,” you decide. I pull you up to a seated position and help you swing my legs over the side so you’re perched at the edge of the mattress. It’s low enough to the ground that it’s almost a squat, and I kneel down in front of your spread knees. On the next contraction you curl forward, one hand on the underside of your belly and the other squeezing my shoulder. You let out a surprised yelp as the head lurches forward quickly, but just as quickly my hand is there providing support and counterpressure, tugging gently at the edges of your taut hole. The head jerks back inside when you take a breath, but then you lean back into it, pulling one leg back while keeping the other on the ground for stability. Another quick breath and then you’re back at it, letting out a high pitched cry when you feel yourself widen another fraction of an inch as the stretch starts to burn.

“Don’t let me tear!” you beg desperately between pushes—even though you’re just starting to crown, it feels like you can’t possibly open any more, and it’s almost a relief when the head sinks back inside this time.

You don’t make much progress during the next contraction, and I can tell it’s because of your hesitant pushes— you’re afraid of the pain that’s coming. When it’s over, I coax you down into a full squat in front of me. I don’t say anything, just pepper kisses all over your face and belly as my hands escalate their ministrations between your legs that have you squirming and breathless going into the next contraction. You push again in earnest, a mix of pain and pleasure, throwing your head back in a moan that turns into a shout and something in you gives way—the head making its way past my tailbone. This time when you stop pushing, the head stays right where it is, bowing out the skin of my vagina into a wide dome, a small round cap of hair at its peak.

“That’s it, we’re seeing real progress now baby, you’re doing so well.” My voice has a more muted tone than my yelling, enthusiastic outbursts from earlier, more intended to keep you calm and concentrating on the task at hand.

My fingers trace around the bulge between your legs now, feather light you squirm under my caress.

“That… that’s not fair” you manage to gasp, concentrating on the touch and not the cramping pains that have been your ever present companion for what seemed like hours now.

“You deserve a reward for all the hard work you have done, for all three of us” I say to you, my grin can only be described as devilish. My lips meet yours and we kiss in a passionate embrace - my hand curling around your shoulder in support as you brace yourself on my knee to stop you toppling over.

As we’re kissing, you pull back and groan, yet another contraction starting once more. My free hand which was down between your legs reaches up to caress the bump, then continuing further north it meets a breast and a nipple.

The sensitive area had already been a keen play area between us over the last few weeks, your nipples getting hyper sensitive as they were getting ready to express milk for the baby. My touch caused you to shiver as you recalled a recent play session, and you arch your back involuntarily pressing your chest out to give me more access.

My fingers lightly tug and squeeze the nipple, teasing it back and forth until you expressed a few drops of colostrum.

As I did so you pushed, eyes scrunched tight, panting out loud, all of your concentration on the pleasurable touches I was giving you rather than the pain you were feeling.

The nipple stimulation had an unexpected side effect, the contraction surged unexpectedly. You almost faltered and cried out but managed to maintain your composure, growling phrases such as “come on baby, come on out, mummy and daddy want to meet you” in between panting breaths.

You scream all of a sudden “so… much… pressure!” My hand drops down to between your legs and I feel the sheer amount of the head that’s starting to poke through. Unfortunately there’s still quite a way to go until you’re crowning, but my finger slips in between your lips and the baby’s head, stretching your skin a little.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by yourself, as I press my finger in and stretch you howl out in pain.

“I’m sorry baby but I need to help you stretch. There’s a long way to go and we need to take this nice, slow and easy”

You have moisture at the corners of your eyes as you say you know, acutely aware of how much work you have done, and beginning to realise just how much you still have to do.

“I’m with you” I blurt out, trying to get you back to a good place, your forehead slumping forward and meeting mine, as you pant, the contraction finally passing, my eyes look down between your legs and see the head sitting there, testament to the work you have done so far.

Some of the tension leaves you as you feel the skin stretch further - it’s still heavy and tight, but at least it doesn’t feel on the verge of causing damage anymore—and you sink forward into my embrace. You reach your hand down to feel what I’d just felt, barely recognising your own body. Your lips are hot, puffy and flared out monstrously wide so that they press out against your thighs. Your opening is kept taut and open in a perfectly round “O” and the skin feels so tightly moulded around the baby’s head even as its exit refuses to give way. You know women do this every day… but it just doesn’t seem physically possible in this moment.

“I need to stretch.” You’re telling yourself as much as me, but I nod anyway. “I need to relax long enough to let myself stretch.” You look at me almost pleadingly, and I know what you’re asking.

There’s little danger now of losing sight of the modest crown, so I lift you out of your squat and back up onto the mattress. You’re careful to keep your legs wide, knees falling open to the side as you lay fully on your back. I join you as soon as you’re situated, fitting myself between your hips, propping myself up on one side and hovering over your torso. We share a laugh as we try to find our balance, but soon you’re wincing with the start of another contraction.

“Breathe, baby,” I say gently, my free hand moving between your legs to continue its agonizing work. “Just breathe for now. Your body will do the work for you.”

“And you,” you manage before gritting your teeth and clutching at the pillows shoved in various supportive positions around you. I somehow manage to both stretch your hole and pleasure you at the same time, my thumb and index finger seemingly at odds in their objectives. You can’t help but push a little at the tail end and the burning is more bearable this time.

Between contractions you buck up your hips so both of my hands can work toward opening you up, a mix of massaging and stretching and teasing that has you pulling me on top of you. I kiss you deeply before my mouth moves down your neck and chest, settling over one of your darkened nipples as my tongue playfully flicks and envelops the sensitive tip. You’re so caught up in the sensations that the next contraction—made so much stronger so much faster by the stimulation—takes you completely by surprise and you scream, pulling hastily back on your legs and riding your body’s instinct to push.

“Easy now,” I caution you, pushing back against the growing dome between your legs and carefully supporting the suddenly overly stretched skin. “Breathe.”

“I can’t!” you yell, throwing your head back for a quick inhale before curling forward again.

“Then pant, pant! Hoo-hoo-hoo. Like you’re blowing out a birthday candle.”

You try to emulate releasing quick puffs of air but it turns into one long groan that escalates back into a howl as the pressure of the baby’s head combines with my tugging fingers. You have to press your hands into your trembling knees just to try and keep them open. Another push and you see me looking down between your legs, seeing what seems like the whole outline of the huge head pressing out against my skin still trapped behind my relatively small hole. You collapse backward in defeat.

“It’s too big,” you whine as the contraction begins to fade. You’re sure a lot of women feel that way and it turns out fine, but damn does it feel true right now. I look a little concerned, so you pull yourself up, repositioning so that ypu’re on your knees facing me. You take one of your hands and put it back between my legs and position the other over your breast. With a deep breath in then out again, you announce “Guess we better get to work.”

“Next time you need to push, just make ‘mmm’ sounds OK?”

You look skeptical but nod anyway, and soon you start. You pitch rises, and I tell you to keep it slow and steady, focus on the breathing rather than the pushing.

You nod, as my hands do their work. My hand that’s dipped down between your legs is rubbing and softening the skin between them, pressing back against the hard bulge of the head just agonisingly close.

Your head is tucked into my shoulder, one hand steadying yourself against me, the other rubbing slow circles on your breast and nipple knowing how well that was helping before.

A full minute of that contraction passes and I feel some useful movement between your legs.

“Go and do that again” I say as another one picks up. I can see it’s taking all your concentration not to push hard, your hand that is resting on me shaking and passing the vibrations through to me.

“Think you have another one in you?” I ask as that contraction passes, your response practically begs me “Fuck… no, I need to push”

There’s nothing you can do this time as the contraction begins to build, you reach to grab the hand that was playing with your nipple earlier and press it into the mattress with the force of your push.

My hand cupped under you feels success though, your skin seems to peel apart as the head makes its way out of you, the skin rolling back over the head as more and more of it made its way out from inside of you.

“Back at it, quick!” I say as the push ends, and you do so, more of the head seeing fresh air. My hand pressed against your lips slowly moulds the skin back.

You finally relent, the contraction over with, the head now well on its way to a crown. You look into my eyes and can see I almost have tears forming. “You did it babe, you got over this. Might have a full crown in the next contraction.”

You know in your heart you felt everything but need to feel down between your legs to know it was real. You hand scrabbles down and you trace the outline of your opened lips, smiling, clearly approaching exhaustion now.

No time to rest though as another contraction builds.

Your whole hand can fit over the large dome coming out between your legs now—the skin of your vagina stretched in a vertical mountain over the straining head. It sits heavily right at your opening, a slow burn ready to flame to life at the next push. You keep your hand there as the contraction begins to build, feeling how your body squeezes and compresses even before you add any conscious force. You let out a long, slow breath, waiting until the tension grows and intensifies and you absolutely cannot refrain from bearing down with it.

You groan as you finally give into the primal urge, tilting your hips forward and back in time with your pushes, keeping hold of the delicate ring of flesh, alternating between easing it back and releasing it millimeter by millimeter, push after push until a proper crown begins to form.

My hands rub a circular route from my belly to around the curve of your ass, up your thighs, then back again. Suddenly you hold completely still and I follow suit, my hands poised in front of you for whatever you may need. “Mmm,” You moan, the hum echoing through your whole body as you lean forward with your hands pressed into my thighs as you push down, hard. It burns and you let out a strangled whine, but keep pushing. You take a breath and shuffle your knees open wider and push some more. I’m saying something sweet and encouraging, but you’re too focused to really hear it.

“Come on, baby,” you plead again, slumping forward against me as the contraction ends. “Mummy needs you to work with me here.” I tell you to take your time, that there’s no rush, but that’s easy to say when you don’t have a cantaloupe forcing itself out of your body.

“Maybe next one,” I suggest, trying to keep my spirits up.

“Next one,” you agree. It certainly needs to come soon, you’re feeling weary and exhausted with the effort.

Your knees start to hurt again so I help you unfold your legs so that we’re sitting face to face, your spread legs on the outside of mine with me situated in between. I grab a towel and twist it up into a rope, holding one end while offering you to hold the other. “Lean back,” I tell you when the next contraction starts.

“Holy fuck!” you cry, pulling against the towel as your focused on a powerful push and finally feel the head give some more. Your knees instinctually rise so they’re on either side of your belly, and I have a wonderful view of everything that’s happening. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, it’s burning, it’s- babe, fuck!” you’re muttering explicit nonsense in between howls and wails as the intense searing stretch goes beyond whatever you thought possible. Nearly letting go of the towel and the push you suddenly hear me yelling out in my own exhuberant shout.

“It’s crowning!”

Your head snaps up at me, your expression a wonderful mix of joy, wonder, pain, fatigue and probably a dozen other emotions. Your eyes are wide and your mouth lets out a sudden yell - but it doesn’t sound pained as such, more victorious.

As the head reaches its peak, all the burning, searing pain you had been feeling finally relented, your nerves in your skin stretched to their limit and no longer functioning.

Time seemed to stop for you, your brain going a million miles a minute until your focus is back on me yelling at you

“Stop pushing, you’re at your widest, pant it out, please, you didn’t want to tear!”

You follow without thinking, letting out your breath in a slow, slow exhale. It seemed to take forever in that moment of slowed time between us, but suddenly there was a sound that could only be described as a ‘thwack’ as your tightly stretched vagina lips slid back at speed over the baby’s head.

The next moment seemed to take just as long to resolve in my mind.

Firstly jets of amniotic fluid came gushing out from around the head, shooting all the way across to me and coating my chest.

My view was suddenly focused on the back of a head lodged between your legs, said head being slightly cone shaped following its tight passage.

Pools of fluid were still draining out between your legs.

Miraculously you respond first. “Check for a cord” you manage in a croaky voice.

I nod and let go of the towel which you gather up and put to the side of you.

My hands reach down to the baby’s neck and slide down to the gap between it and your lips. I feel nothing caught.

“You’re good, let’s see, I think the head needs to turn now for the shoulders”

I now have a hand under the baby’s head supporting it as I feel you bounce left and right on your ass cheeks as if you’re shifting your weight to either side, the head rotates sideways and I finally get a good glance of the baby’s face.

I look up and once got tears in my eyes as I say to you “baby looks beautiful love.”

You wish you could see it for yourself too, but seeing the love shine through my eyes at our baby’s face is enough for now. You reach down and it’s still surprising that the whole head is outside of your body, that you can trace the outlines of it’s ears, nose, lips and chubby little cheeks. Your eyes well up to match me and I give your belly one last peck before it’s empty again. There’s nothing quite like this feeling, the power and strength of accomplishing such a feat at direct odds with the

softness and vulnerability that comes with being able to really see and touch your child for the first time.

The relief from delivering the head is short-lived as another contraction reminds me that your work is not yet done. The pressure in your stomach is slightly lessened with the release of so much amniotic fluid, but somehow seems to increase in your hips— seems this baby’s got broad shoulders too. You start panting and grip tightly to my forearm, not quite ready to give everything you have into another push just yet. You ride it out, giving low groans through the contraction until the insistent pressure returns and you feel the shoulders nudging at your opening.

“Are you ready?” I ask, alerted to the change in situation by your grip tightening on my arms.

The answer is an easy, “Yes.”

You move your hands to my shoulders to steady yourself and lean into the push. It’s harder than you thought it’d be for your already stretched skin to give way and as a result you let out a determined growl, then release your breath and dive back into another push. I assist with a little tug and that’s all it takes for the shoulders to pop over your tailbone and fill my opening all at once. You scream at the sudden burning stretch, but it only lasts a moment before the rest of the baby slides out quickly and easily on a river of amniotic fluid.

Your senses and emotions are immediately overwhelmed as this little red squalling beautiful thing is placed on your chest. You’re crying and shaking as you cradle it gingerly—it seems so small and vulnerable, and yet those little fists and feet are kicking out angrily at the uncomfortable eviction into this cold, loud, bright world.

“Hi, baby,” you coo wetly, gently patting its back and reaching for me to join us in the moment. I wrap us up in sun-warmed towels and kneel at your side, laughing through tears and peppering kisses all over your face and our baby’s head. You’re so caught up in the moment—the relief and awe and exhaustion and elation—that there’s one thing you missed. You shift the baby’s body a bit and peek under the towel, and the tears renew afresh. “A little boy!” You look back up at me in surprised joy, but I just chuckle—of course I’d already realised that as I lifted the baby up to your chest. “We have a son.” The realization settles over you as comfortably as me arms around your waist, and you have a feeling we’re both thinking the same thing.

We can’t wait to do this again.

After the brief moment of relief and satisfaction washed over us, I realised we had better call the midwife to make sure everything checked out right with the baby. I pulled out her phone and dialled her number to hear it go off just behind us in the house.

She walked out from the cabin we had rented with a broad smile on her face. I suddenly realised I’d handed her a spare key in case she needed to get in quickly and I couldn’t get away from you.

“You guys did really well. I figured things were hotting up when I heard the screams and moans from outside of my place… had to intervene with some hikers who were heading your way wondering what the commotion was all about. Here…”

She handed us both drinks, as I suddenly realised exactly how late it was. I mentally counted up - I’d been awake 6 hours with you, and no idea about how long you had been up during the night.

You handed off the baby to the midwife who clamped and cut the cord, and handed over the cup as you drank thirstily - all that heavy breathing and yelling had left you parched.

“So… I went to double check because I certainly wasn’t expecting you to be doing this out in the open where any old Tom, Dick or Harry could walk past…”

You grinned, feeling your strength return as you drank the liquid.

“It felt natural to do it in nature” you just said.

“Well… baby gets a good clean bill of health, and I dare say mum has come out all but unscathed too. Well done to both of you”

Another hour or so of paperwork, plenty more postnatal checks, and a complete placenta delivery later, we were laid in bed in the cabin, our small family of three, contemplating what we were going to do for the next week in our cabin.

[themotherofblood]

Hi! I literally devoured your Vampire Series, it's awesome!

I was thinking since it's summer why don't our vampires go to the sea? Something like Daemon and Rhaenyra want to see the baby girl in a swimsuit and they're specially prepared for that. But the girl is shy because vampires look just divine and she has quite a few scars and marks left on her. And in the end they calm her down.

um! yes! 100x yes! This one is a blurb I AM INCAPABLE OF WRITING THEM. ENJOY THIS 1K+ baby mind you :) So have fun spending a day at Summerhall.

Vampire!Daemon x reader x Vampire!Rhaenyra

masterlist | series masterlist | Vampire AU

warnings: compulsion, oral (F), mentions of blood. a very teeny tiny allusion to self harm (if you squint)

a/n: also Netflix exists in Modern!Westeros :) also reader is kinda toxic but hey this is a dark series so eh. Also other than Marvel, lemme know what odd niche thing you think exists in Modern!Westeros (Teslas? Harry Styles? Cupcake Remixs? EUPHORIA?!) Also, Summerhall is built on one of the StepStones island and reader lived in Storm’s End

Rhaenyra had been worried, you weren’t yourself the past few days. Having merely shown them a glimpse of the sunshine you were for a week, you became quiet again. Obediently offering up a wrist or lifting your skirt for Daemon when asked, pulling up your hair and dropping to your knees on Rhaenyra’s command. Then returning to shield yourself within the pink walls of your rooms. Binging some medical surgery show and smiling along at its romance.

They had your things shipped from your old apartments up at Storm Street, even your little cactus on your coffee table was returned to you safely. Daemon bought you a much larger one, thinking it would have made you happy. You admired the gesture, but it was big and just a little bit ugly. You spent a few hours scrolling through your laptop and phone that was also returned to you, you wouldn’t run, they knew you wouldn’t. Your mind so tightly in their grasp, you no longer looked at the main gates around the island.

Today you laid curled in the theatre room, a melting bowl of strawberry ice cream on your lap as you hummed along to another concert documentry, you missed going out— the fun behind getting ready with friends, the drunk unrelenting laughter and feeling damn sexy by choosing to dress slutty once every month. Now all you saw was scars, yellows, blues and purples. They would have taken longer to heal if Mrs Stone hadn’t brought you a steaming cup of tea with two drops of either Daemon or Rhaenyra’s blood.

You would never see them on the days you healed, away from the island for their business, and you were happier for it. Finding the scarring rather displeasing to look at and relief that you could frolic around this giant property in your PJ’s and messed hair. Sometimes when you truly felt lonely, you would put on your headphones, blaring against your ears as you danced down the hallway. All of whom in witness were the many paintings of Old Valyrian nobility and Targaryen royalty. The first day you did it, merely mumbling along the lyrics but by the end of the month you were sure Mrs Stone could hear you screaming the songs from the kitchen.

The same over and over again for four days at a time, you grew a little worried over your mother—her silence was agonizing to this day. She didn’t have much to say, you wanted to tell her, you were lonely and even alone you might have been addicted to the gentle heaviness in your heart every time you woke up in bed alone after an exhaustive night of being fed on. Yet everytime you heard their car doors thud close, you’d run down the grand stairs to greet them barefooted and in a pretty dress. Throwing yourself at whoever walked through the doors first.

Today in particular, you stood in your giant closet, finally feeling comfortable to partake in all that it was stocked with. While you were happy that your older clothes found a home within the white trim dressers. The gowns, the little girl in you screaming as you put one on, you couldn’t lace it through though, all poofy and tulle. Underneath you had on a lingerie set, throughly pretending to be one of those catalogue models.

You took to the east wing hallways again, waving at the portrait of Baelon Targaryen. Waving around your skirts to a up tempo song and the cool stone underneath your feet. You came to stop at a glass enclosing, Rhaenyra’s coronation gown and her crown laying on a velvet red pillow. Your reflection covering the silhouette of the dress, you imagined yourself in it. You were sure the seams of the dress were made of gold threads.

You were pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of the main gates opening Daemon’s car waiting behind it.

Fuck. They were home early.

You hiked the skirt of your gown and ran down the hall to your bedroom, struggling hard to be rid of your dress and gazillion straps on your lingerie and changing into a more modest sundress to cover your bandaging. You knew you wouldn’t make it down the stairs in time so you sat down on the arm chair by the fireplace with a book. Trying hard to calm your thudding heart. Just as you expected a knock rang down your door before it opened just a little.

Rhaenyra poured in, dressed in a long red dress. Her arms wide as she came to engulf you, snuggling her chin on top of your head.

“I thought you would return the day after?” You asked, smiling up at her.

“Hmm, the Bravosi deal cracked a lot easier than we had hoped and Daemon found a fine meal last night. So we thought we’d return to our darling sooner.” She explained, lifting you up to sit in your spot and pull you down on her lap. “Unless, you didn’t want us to.”

You shook you head, resting it against her temple before reaching lower with your lips to kiss her. “Where’s Daemon?” you looked back to the open door.

“At the docks getting the yacht out.” she said, tucking your hair behind your ear and rubbing her nose against your neck.

“The yacht?” you were sure they even had nuclear weapons under this palace and Daemon could have been Iron Man because why not? You just wonder why.

“Well the weather is just too perfect to waste it so,” she looked towards the window “and I thought you loved swimming, what better way to spend today?”

Rhaenyra could hear Daemon grumbling down at the beach, scolding yet another house keeper for some odd detail they might have missed. She shook her head “I’m going to go check on Daemon before he rips the head of another worker. Get changed.” She pecked your lips before leaving to find Daemon.

You padded back into the closet, this time putting away the gown you were messing around in neatly. Probably costs an eyeball, you dig around for while to find your older swimsuit, a cute green one piece with paisleys on them, perfectly worn in. Then it hit you when you looked around your closet for a moment. Greens right… you loved that one and now it was probably burned along with other green clothing that you were now noticing missing.

You groan when you can’t find it, instead find a sea of newer one and two pieces. You nearly bang your head twice against the drawer before pulling out a white one. Just as you change the dread fills you, they’ve never seen you like this. Not so bruised, usually all that’s left by the time they lay with you again are small puncture scars that they yet again poke through new. Finding no reason to find a new favourite spot to drink from.

You grimace at the odd colouring of your scars clashing with the white, damn it, stretch marks would have been one thing. It was bearable to you but these scars were ugly. You hastily peeled a patch bandage and sticking them on your inner thighs, the left backside of your shoulder (not and easy accomplishment) and neck. Then you prayed to the gods of makeup gurus and tried to hide the yellowing with concealer. It didn’t work very well but it was better than before, instead of pulling on a cover up you pulled an cardigan with longer shorts. Groaning in your hands before leaving to find them.

You stood at the gates, you couldn’t leave them. Tapping your foot, wondering if they forgot about your little predicament. “I’m stuck here!” you chided out loud, knowing they could hear your from the beaches lower.

Daemon was quick to the gates, you hugged your torso, hoping none of the scars where viable as he gave you a once over. He was sizing you, eyes squinted as he leaned on one hip. He approached you, letting his palm curl around you cheek as he kissed you, commanding—almost a threat.

“You can go through gates,” you mind went blank as his eyes dilated.

“I can go through the gates.”

Your eyes cleared and you looked to gates, Home..? No, no. You stay here now.

Daemon was still watching closely, taking note of the way your heart jumped for a moment. He wanted to trust you, not that you could run far from the bridge across to the mainland forest. He thought maybe you were pliant enough that he wouldn’t have to. Yet your heartbeat jumped once more.

“You will not run.” His eyes dilated once more, clutching your jaw harder.

“I won’t run.”

You shook your head once more and the butterflies faded entirely. “Head down the steps on the left. Nyra is waiting for you on the dock.”

You nodded before skipping down the gates, not a second glance was offered to the mainland bridge. You ran down the long dock to Rhaenyra waiting in the boat your thudding ballet flats warning her much before. She helped you onto the boat, before swiftly twirling you into her arms. Her fingers feeling under the fabric of your cardigan and smiling at the feeling of your bathing suit.

The sun had its glare set upon the open warm sea, the cool winds however making the weather bearable to your skin. In the one hour you had been on the boat, you had been hen mother scolded by Rhaenyra twice. First because you forgot to bring a pair of sunglasses. Second, you only had a bowl of strawberry ice cream for breakfast. You had sheepishly smiled at her as Daemon smirked at his wife. He didn’t mind you being spoilt, anything to keep you here willingly—he didn’t enjoy compelling you. The consequences of compulsion would rain down far worse on you than them.

There were already a few signs, odd blurring of your memories of your older life. You had entirely forgotten which middle school you went to until the reminded you uncomfortably in a conversation. Luckily the many photos albums and stashes of Polaroids you had at your apartment were more than enough grout to fill the gaps in your memory. Then there was spurts of blank, one moment you could be speaking or whimpering in their arms to just blank—robotic like the colour drains from your eyes.

“I wonder what other spoilt things you are up to in the day,” Rhaenyra huffed as she pulled your other leg onto her lap to rub sunscreen on. She knew, both her and Daemon very much knew about the dance parties with their ancestors in attendance. From all the cameras around the house that they checked upon every night away from you.

“Does talking to Aenys Targaryen count?” you giggled, making Daemon’s eyebrows perk up. “He seemed like a good listener, very pretty.”

“Very weak.” Daemon coughed. “What else?”

“Uh… watched a documentary on whales actually. Fascinating.” you mused before looking out to the sea “I’d like to see one some day.”

“Now, why don’t we go for a dip huh?” Rhaenyra pawed at your pink cardigan, the gentle pull gave her glimpse of the white bandage. “Are you still bleeding?” Her eyes scrunched.

“Did you not take the tea?” Daemon questioned, immediately wondering if Mrs Stone would soon be lunch.

“No— I did.” You shook your head, completely forgetful of the anxiety bubbling within you an hour ago. Rhaenyra tilted her head, confused at the rise in your thudding heart. Daemon too pushing down his sunglasses to look at your with a frown upon your face. Your mouth opened and then closed.

“Well?” he questioned with his palm out.

“You’ve never seen me on healing days, it— it’s not pretty,” you stuttered “so I thought I’d cover up.”

Both Rhaenyra and Daemon visually relaxed, both contemplating worse than what was bothering you.

Rhaenyra said nothing, just hooked her fingers around the buttons of your cardigan before pulling it off, Daemon watched Nyra and you, but mostly listening to the music that was your heart. He hadn’t heard something so reactive, accustomed to the rapid increase in his feed’s heart, the crescendo of fear and the sloshing of blood as he controlled its flow from the carotid artery.

You winced a little as Rhaenyra peeled apart the bandage on your shoulder, peppering little kisses on the bruise “not ugly.” She figured if they had stained such delicate skin, they could kiss it better too. She nodded her head to Daemon, demanding he follow along.

Daemon shook his head Nyra, his sweet wife perfectly cunstruck by a human, so was he—maybe, big maybe. He kneeled infront of you, shimming your shorts up to peel away at the bandaging on your inner thigh. His cock twitched at the sight of the healing bruises and the distinctive puncture marks of his fangs.

His pink tongue poked out as he suckled on the spot—keep it fucking marked he thought. You hissed out loud at that, making Rhaenyra kick Daemon in the thigh as a warning glare. He sneered at her before obliging and peppering kisses up your thigh. You wiggled on the spot as his kisses trailed upwards.

“Needy slut.” He muttered under his breath, he could smell your pooling cunt already as Rhaenyra peeled through the bandage on your chest.

Daemon hooked his fingers around your cotton shorts and pulled them down. His nose rubbing up at your clothed mound, Nyra knew exactly what he wanted to do as she shuffled backwards, letting your upper body rest against her chest. She pulled your white bathing suit to one side, letting Daemon groan and flatten his tongue against your warm folds.

He used his thumb to gently push at the hidden pearl, using his tongue to pry open your folds. He was about to open his palm and lay a smack on your mound, he couldn’t help but crave the sound of your yelps and cries. Rhaenyra was faster though, knowing her husband far too well as she reached over to catch his wrist.

“If you’re going to be a dick, we can switch. You like my tongue better anyways, don’t you sweetie.” she teased her husband, this was a fight you refused to get in between as you looked between the pair.

“You didn’t think I was a dick last night with my tongue in your cunt, riñītsos.” He countered, it was never more apparent that they indeed were a married couple.

You couldn’t help stop the cackle that tore through you next, you pursed your lips to stop another from pouring through but instead choked on a yelp as Rhaenyra slapped your cunt. You bit your tongue from smiling as you gave her your sweetest eyes as an apology.

“Don’t be a brat,” she scolded, still giving Daemon a warning glare to be be nice to you “and you keep licking.”

You curled to your side with a moan as the tip of Daemon’d tongue pushed against your hood before suckling it in mouth.

“Daddy.” You mewled, your hands reaching down to grab hold of his silver hair. The ardent feel of his tongue pushing you masterfully to a longing completion.

“Is he making you feel good, honey?” Rhaenyra pulled your chin up to meet your eyes, you nodded breathlessly. “What do you say?”

“Thank you, daddy.” your toes curled around his shoulder as his tongue rapidly flicked against your reddened bud.

Daemon has a voracious need to feel you gushing onto his tongue as he poked into your clenching hole, Rhaenyra reached down to play with you clit but he slapped her hand away— his turn, he knew you liked his tongue the most. He replaced her fingers with his, rolling the bundle of nerves between his fingers. He spat onto your pussy, admiring your scrunched up face as he rubbed tight circles onto your bud.

“Now, whose tongue is your favourite again?” He asked “gotta answer if you want to come today, pet.”

The vehement predicament he had just pushed you into was cruel, just too cruel for your poor heart as you eyes welled up, your bottom lip pouted out. Looking conflicted between Rhaenyra and Daemon as they bottom looked at your expecting an answer. You mouth opened and then closed as your deeply gulped, he couldn’t hold his serious face together for longer. The sweet battle in your mind, he knew your answer would come along with a major punishment at the hands of the other.

He shook his head once more chuckling, making Rhaenyra giggle and press a kiss to your temple.

“Go on, come on daddy’s face.” Rhaenyra whispered in your ear as she let your hair.

You on command, shrieked, relaxing and letting the dam break through as your thighs shuddered along with your body. You hands tightly clutching onto Rhaenyra

“There we go, what a good pet.” Daemon coaxed you through your high as he kept his rubbing going until your orgasm turned to over-sensitized whimpers. Rhaenyra let go of your bathing suit, still stroking your arms as you recovered.

“Thank you.” you huffed once more at Daemon who returned to nursing in his scotch.

“Now go swim.” Rhaenyra patted your thigh as she pushed you up, gesturing at the very calm open waters. You looked to her once, still dazed before looking at the Sunset Sea. You smiled as you climbed down the ladder to the lower deck. Stopping for a moment to drop you cardigan in the floor, before running to the water.

Tucking your legs in a canonball as you squealed before splashing into the water.

Daemon then turned to his wife “you’re getting bossy these days Nyra, don’t make me spank it away.” He warned her as she pulled of her red kaftan to reveal her maroon bathing suit. He laid a quick swat on her milky pale ass as she followed behind you, sitting on the lower deck with her painted feet dipped in the water as she watched you swim.

“She still likes my tongue better Daemon.”

ahhh you guys, this was so much fun to write hehe. I had this scene of Daemyra bickering like a married couple for a long time and I’m so glad I could use it for this AU.

Also, reader was totally screaming The Weeknd songs and Taylor Swift songs to all the Targaryen portraits.

And yes. There will be a chapter where Rhaenyra dresses reader in 120AC attire for roleplay :)

Ps. I’m trying to piece through a Vampire lore like pros cons and might do a backstory of their turning :)

taglist (thank youuuu!! ♥️♥️)

@fan-goddess @funnybunnyxxx @avalyaaa @evattude @you-youuuu

[acotrash]

When The Stars Go Blue - Azriel

Azriel head canons for Starfall week day 2

“Character A loves Starfall, Character B hates it but loves making Character A happy”

Azriel didn’t used to hate Starfall, no he used to love it. Well, as much as he loved being at parties and dancing. It was being with his family, his brothers and that they weren’t running a court but instead, just being a family.

Now Rhysand is gone. Under the mountain. It was Rhys’s favorite holiday and now Azriel cannot stand it.

In fact, he refused to celebrate the holiday without Rhys, instead he sulks in his room or goes to the training ring to pound out his frustrations at his brother on a training dummy.

Which is where you find him, in the training room, sweat beading down his back and his hair clinging to his forehead

All week Mor, Cassian and even Amren warned you that it might be the best week to leave Azriel alone. That it wasn't your fault and to not take it personally, he just needs space this week

You could tell how much it hurt everyone around him that he pushes them away this week, his brother and the two females, the four of them like family and so you didn't listen to their advice

His shadows alert him of your presence, whispering to him of your mood, your downturned mouth and eyes that are usually so bright and full of life look like a hurricane pulled straight out of the Summer Court brewing within them

"Why do you hate Starfall?" You ask once he turned around to face you, Azriel paused his movements, before he took a slow breath toweling off his forehead, shrugging. He couldn't think of a good excuse to tell you. He had bit off Cassian's head earlier when Cassian had asked him to attend the party this year.

Azriel had seen the hurt flash across his brothers face before his brother turned to get ready for the annual Starfall party. He knew why Mor and Cassian insisted on holding the party every year "It's what Rhys would've wanted" Mor would say every year when she brought up the subject

"There were a lot of things Rhys would've wanted but that doesn't mean we have to do them" Azriel had told her, year after year

But then you stood in the entrance way of the training ring with your pretty dress that you had let Mor pick out because she enjoyed dress shopping and he heard you and Cassian earlier in the kitchen making various desserts and his shadows alerted him when you left that morning to bring Amren her Starfall gift. How you were making an effort with everyone this week because it was hard for everyone and so he nodded, surprising the both of you. "Let me wash up real quick and I'll be there"

You blinked, your only indication of surprise before you nodded, you were halfway back to the party when Azriel's shadows whispered to him that the storm in your eyes vanished and you were smiling

Cassian and Mor didn't know what to make of his appearance at the party. Mor had given him a knowing look when he appeared, freshly showered next to your side, Cassian pressed a drink into his hand with his signature smile

The only reaction he cared about though, was yours. Your smile was brighter than any star that was currently soaring across the night sky "You did come Shadowsinger" You couldn't help the smile gracing your mouth or the way your arms slide around his neck when his went around your waist, Azriel easily slipping you into a slow sway to the music playing

The brightness of the smile had eased some of the ache in his chest when he looked down at you "I told you I'd be here, didn't I?"

You had set your head on his chest, Azriel slowly spun you around as he tipped his head back to look at the stars

You didn't beg him to dance with you, but he did dance with you all night, even after you had complained that the heels Mor said you needed to wear with the dress was making your feet bleed, he told you to kick off your heels and you stood on his boots barefoot while he continued to spin you around

"Do you still hate Starfall shadowsinger?" You had whispered softly to him, your chin resting on his shoulder, you two the only ones left out on the balcony. The stars were all gone and were soon to be replaced with the sun, the rays just peeking over the mountain tops

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head "I guess it's tolerable" He mumbled softly against your hair. He was sure he'd always hate the holiday till his brother got back and they could all be together again. He knew you and Rhys would get along, would revel in making his life difficult. But he'd tolerate it for the time being, just so he'd get to see you smile once again.

"I think I can live with that." You decided, an attempt to pull away from his shoulder but one of his scarred hands brought your head back to his shoulder. "Should we go inside?"

Azriel shook his head, leaning his head against yours "We can stay here a bit longer if you'd want."

He felt your smile against his shoulder. "I'll stay wherever with you."

[adaines-furious-feast]

I have a Fantasy High OC that I think about a lot. Not as much as my Crown of Candy one, but a lot, and I thought I would share, undercut. 

Tiffany Rosestride, of the Rosestrides, the halfling bard family. If there is a halfling backing dancer, singer, musician, actor, they are part of Tiffany’s very large family. 

She has two older sisters and a younger brother and they are all in the arts. If there was a TLC channel in Elmville, this family would be on it. Tiffany’s mother is a dance mom and deeply, deeply disappointed that Tiff has precisely zero artistic talent. It’s embarrassing really.  

Her mother has kind of moved on from this disappointment. She’s really quite busy taking her other children to auditions and rehearsals ect. Tiffany spends a year at Mumple, doing Mumple stuff. Her mother kind of hopes it will give her some business sense so she can at least be a manager. 

But shortly before the summer of her freshman year, she develops magic. Tiffany is now a sorcerer and has no idea what to do about that. She’s enrolled at Augefort for the following year, so she has to retake freshman year but oh boy is it so different than her year at Mumple. She kind of hopes she can figure out why she has magic now, or at the very least how to control her magic. 

She gets detention on the first day by accidentally using grease to cause Goldenhoard to fall while he’s chasing after Riz.  

After the corn cuties fight, when the parents come to pick her up, her mother is the last to arrive because her brother had a call-back for some commercial and she didn’t want to leave him alone. They spend most of the ride home talking about that audition. 

Mrs Rosestride – her husband is on tour, so she’s kind of single-parenting this – is very excited to learn that Tiff is in a party with a bard, and she hopes it will rub off on her. The bard-ness doesn’t. The rebellion does. 

The Rosestrides must always look like stereotypical halflings. That’s the niche that has made their family famous and Tiff cannot let the family down. It’s all long curly hair, green and yellow dresses. The only thing not stereotypical are the heavy boots she wears because there are some *weird* fans that are obsessed with halfling feet and that’s something the family does not want getting out. If it’s not part of a performance, the boots need to be on. 

Tiff cuts her hair short and swaps the heavy boots for a pair of sneakers. She’s not ready to go complete barefoot just yet but wants something more comfortable. When her mother freaks out at the reveal at Solstice, the Thistlesprings step in (they are neighbours after all, and have been giving Tiff rides home from school).  

We see Tiffany’s mother actually realize what she’s done and try to turn things around/be there for her more.  

After the Sisterly Showdown, we find out she had a letter *the whole time* that her mother had put away and just forgotten about. The whole campaign there had been hints of shadowy figures watching the Bad Kids, and they assumed it was part of the Harvestmen, but they continue after the cult is busted. They’re actually members of the Order of Hospitaller, a group of spell casters committed to being a voice for the inn keepers and Mumple-People of the world, to hold adventurers somewhat accountable and stop them just going and looting a poor guy’s shop because they want to. And they’ve been waiting for her response about whether she will take up her oath this whole time. Tiffany immediately accepts. She’s been trying to be like “hey, why don’t we stop making fun of Mumple people” this whole time and is fully onboard with this. 

When they’re in prison, her mom contacts a lawyer but he’s an entertainment lawyer and really not very useful. Tiff does go and help her family though, and her little brother decides he doesn’t want to go to the special elite bard high school that their other two sisters go to, but wants to help people.  

Anyway, Prom goes down. And they all live happily ever after for nine months until spring break. 

[girlwithwolftatoo]

Choose to make these two together because it will help to give background, so please enjoy!

Steven Grant + jacking his frustration off:

*The fact that you both are angry to each other isn't an excuse to mistreat you, so after you ended (badly) with a harsh discussion, you go straight to the kitchen (giving Steven a "don't-follow-me" look) to make dinner.

*Steven cannot be stuck forever on the couch, so he goes to the small table you use to eat and pretends to be reading one of his books, peeping over them to you often while thinking of how sometimes you're so stubborn and unfair and... how those shorts look so nice on you and how he loves having you walk barefoot like you're doing it right now...

*He actually makes an effort to concentrate in his reading but it's impossible, he's frustrated and you're cooking your deliciously famous fake-meat chilli while listening music (you put your earphones on to relax) and dancing along with your tunes and -Oh gods, why are you so lovely he cannot be completely angry towards you?

*The bad feelings must be discharged in some way, and Steven presses down his crotch a little when he feels a little throb under his clothes. He hears your voice in his head when you pointed out a mean comment and realizes it sounds just lie you when you're playing dom and -oh there goes his hand.

*Luckily you have the earphones on, but still he works to not let a sound come out of his mouth, holding the book with a hand and his shlong with the other, biting hiw lower lip and heavy breathing as the friction begins to do the magic.

*His eyes go to your figure, averting just when you're moving through the kitchen so you don't notice him. He thinks of you sitting on his lap with those nice shorts of yours, cupping your soft cheeks to kiss you and feel your breasts pressing against him... You should better grab her tits and squeeze them 'til she's crying, says a voice in his head. Is it Marc? Or someone more vicious? Nevermind, now he has that mental image and he's getting more and more turned on.

*A soft moan manages to come out his mouth while other thing comes out of his dick, the hot and sticky load stains his hand and he maneuvers to avoid it getting on something else. He gives a quick stare at you, to being sure you didn't see him, and slowly stands up to get into the bathroom to clean himself.

*"Steven?" you called. He freezes at the bathroom entrance "Y-yes?" "Dinner is almost ready... if you want to eat with me, of course" You don't sound furious anymore, but you're dead serious. He gulps and nods. "Yes, yes, I want to... I'll be there in a minute".

[day0walkersdrafts]

“You seemed serious,” König says, as the flat blade scrapes down the animal hide. Its stretched tight between two poles and almost ready. Furs, for her and for him, because winter will become serious soon and she is so small sometimes it worries him. Despite the chill, she’s stripped to trousers and a sleeveless shirt, practicing her forms beside him in their modest yard.

Mouse dances carefully, swings the sword, toes close to an imaginary enemy.

“You are still leaning too heavily on your left foot,” he comments and continues to scrape. He watches her face turn slightly pink and not just because it’s far too cold to be sleeveless. The shirt is loose and billowy and reveals her sides—König wants to kiss there, wants to lap at the sweat running down her skin from exertion.

“S’All part of the game—you wouldn’t have killed him,” Mouse replies, and attempts the form again; this time she overcompensates her tendency to her left by correcting her right too far. “Didn’t like him, though.” She swings the sword, left, right, overhand. Pauses it with pristine accuracy. “Don’t like knights.”

König doesn’t mention that when they’d met he’d been a knight. Years ago, when he’d found her, bloody hands clapped over her ears to hide them, eyes huge and terrified of him—of all humans. Crouched there, in the underbrush, thinking he’d call attention to her and that the soldiers he was with would have entertainment for the night.

He would have killed them. For her. Even then, before she had made a hole in his heart the way that she has now.

Mouse has her cap off, so those pointed ears call slight attention. She’s not full elf; human dad, unfortunately. Makes them small, petite. König finds them cute actually, and when she lets him, he kisses them and watches her blush all the way to her throat. Then kisses there too, for good measure.

“She was pretty,” Mouse mumbles, hefting her sword between her hands. She’s attempting the ambidexterity Horangi has—her first sword master and the man König had asked for help when he needed to get Mouse away. He can tell that she misses him sometimes, in just the way she cares for the sword he’d left her.

You’re pretty, he doesn’t say. Scrapes the leather more. Beautiful. König puts the blade down, watches as she sheaths her sword and looks to him. And kind. Thinks of them in the town they’d just left, her hand full of candies, held behind her, smiling to herself when children got brave enough to dart forward and pick from her palm.

Thinks of the time she’d simply taken off her boots and given them to a woman, swollen heavy with child and that woman crying into her hand and Mouse telling her, these just don’t fit me anymore, yeah? And I don’t like the color, so you take them and don’t try and say no to me. Because that woman had been barefoot on a dusty road and one child already on her hip.

Mouse leaps up onto the tree stump beside his tanning rack, which nearly makes her the same height as him.

“Almost finished?” He lets her move on from the subject. König wants to ask her, sometimes, where that cruelty comes from inside her; feels it reflected in himself. Knows it comes from cruelty others shoved onto him; no outlet, just violence. It’s why he’d become a soldier, why he’d become a knight once upon a time. His giant hands take hold of her hips, pull her straight to the edge of that stump and look up at her.

“You are serious about the tourney.”

“Yes,” she answers quickly. “Don’t think I’ll win, yeah. But I’d like to smash a few idiots around with a sword and then eat fancy tournament food.” She’s smiling then. Not that sinister, ravenous look she gives their marks. All part of the game. For him, it’s this slow, shy, curling smile that makes her look younger than she is, makes her cheeks dimple a little.

“The furs will be finished in the morn, then.”

She yanks up her shirt, folds it over his head and laughs when he kisses her stomach, makes a much softer sound when his attention moves up and to her chest. The sun dips past the horizon finally, and König takes his tiny, half-elf wife to bed.

[slytherin-girly]

Perfect/ A Draco Malfoy x reader one-shot

House: dont matter

Year: 4 yule ball *laughs mischievously* too much? Yeah

Ed Sheeran's song 'Perfect'

I love doing this :)))

=============================

{Draco POV}

 I found a love, for me

Darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet

Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

Y/n, the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life, also my girlfriend, said that she had to do some dress shopping with Granger girl.

So I spent my time looking at the picture album she had made for us.

Y/n had always been kind at heart. She looked past the bad just to find the good. She's a very good person. I always find myself wondering how I found the most perfect girl in the world.

Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Not knowing what it was

I will not give you up this time

But darling, just kiss me slow

Your heart is all I own

And in your eyes, you're holding mine

"Y/n, you almost ready?" I called out sitting on her bed waiting.

"Almost! One sec!" She said.

"You- look- wow- you- look beautiful Y/n. Stunning."

"Thank you Draco." She said, "Can you help me with this please? It's the necklace you gave me."

I smiled. It was the first necklace I'd ever bought for her when we started dating . It had my initial on it. D. (Like this👇)

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favourite song

When you said you looked a mess

I whispered underneath my breath

But you heard it

Darling, you look perfect tonight

We made our way to the ball, with Y/n holding on to my arm. It all felt just right.

"Is my hair messy?" She asked me.

"Darling, your hair is perfect. Just like you."

"Awww thanks Dray." She smiled up at me.

We walked into the ballroom. And coincidentally our song was playing.

"Oh Draco! This is our song!" She said excitedly pulling me our onto the dancefloor.

I smiled to myself.

Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home

I found a lover, to carry more than just my secrets

To carry love, to carry children of our own

Our song was finally over and I had told Y/n i would go get us some punch.

"Oi Y/n" Pansy said walking up to Y/n.

"Whaddya want now you shithead." Y/n said plainly.

"How dare-!" She starts.

"I really don't care. Amusing if you think I do. Anyway get the fuck outta my face please." Y/n said and Pansy went back to her goons.

Y/n really knew how to stand up for herself. Strong woman there.

I went back with the punch and sat next to her.

"Y'know Y/n I'm really glad I found you. And I can't wait to marry you."

We are still kids, but we're so in love

Fighting against all odds

I know we'll be alright this time

Darling, just hold my hand

Be my girl, I'll be your man

I see my future in your eyes

"We're only kids Dray, what if-"

"Trust me. We maybe just kids but I'll love you the same no matter what age."

"You're the sweetest." She said smiling.

"C'mon I wanna dance with you." She said pulling me out on the dance floor yet again.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favorite song

When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful

I don't deserve this

Darling, you look perfect tonight

We danced the night away with each other. Enjoying each other's company. She was absolutely stunning. A lot of the other guys were staring at her, until I gave them a death glare.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favorite song

I have faith in what I see

Now I know I have met an angel in person

And she looks perfect

I finally found my little ray of sunshine in my life. I don't deserve it I know that.

We walked out of the ball together hand in hand.

"That was a lot of fun!" She said happily.

"It was."

We cuddled in my dorm room for a little while

"What did I do to deserve someone like you Y/n"

"I should be asking you that." She says with a giggle.

"My little angel."

I don't deserve this

You look perfect tonight

"I love you."

"I love you more angel."

============================

(Pics off of pinterest)

[mochinek0]

Perfect

It was Chat Noir's night to patrol when he heard music faintly playing.

'Who is up so late at night? Did they leave something on?'

I found a love for me

Oh darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet

He had to know where the music was coming from. It was part of who he was: cats and their curiosity. The added singing was like a siren's call to him. It was beautiful.

Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Not knowing what it was

Out of anything, he hadn't expected to find Marinette Dupain-Cheng singing. He thought it was an actress practicing for a part. Maybe a famous artist like Clara Nightingale, but his best friend? He knew she had the tendency to stay up late. She had the fairy lights glowing on her balcony. It made it her look breathtaking.

I will not give you up this time

'Is she still trying to get with that Buttercup guy?'

But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own

And in your eyes, you're holding mine

Chat Noir gently landed on her roof and listened to her beautiful singing. Marinette stepped away from her balcony and Chat sank lower into his hiding spot.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms

Chat smiled as she curtsied to the open air and put her arms up in a position, like was getting ready dancing with someone.

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song

A smile was brought to his face as she twirled, enough to see she was actually barefoot.

When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath

But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight

Chat couldn't help, but be entranced by her amazing voice. He opened his mouth to call out to her, but froze as a dark-haired guy opened her hatch.

Well I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know

The guy set the drinks down on her table.

'He doesn't remind me of a Buttercup. I wonder why she chose that name.'

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home

He extended his hand out to Marinette. With a smile, she took it.

I found a love, to carry more than just my secrets

The guy slowly brought Marinette against him.

To carry love, to carry children of our own

The guy lowered his hands and placed them on her waist.

We are still kids, but we are so in love

Marinette moved her hands from his chest to around his neck.

Fighting against all odds

Chat watched as the guy continued to sing, but began to move them into a slow dance. Gently swaying in the same spot.

I know we'll be alright this time

He couldn't help, but think about the times he held onto Marinette like that, as they danced. He held up at Chloe's party and in New York.

Darling, just hold my hand

He could only stare at them. Something deep inside told him this was different. This dance wasn't the same as him dancing with his friend, Marinette.

Be my girl, I'll be your man

I see my future in your eyes

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song

When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful

He watched as the guy took a hand off her waist and cupped her cheek.

I don't deserve this,

'Damn right you don't deserve her!'

Darling, you look perfect tonight

Marinette nuzzled her cheek into the guy's palm, resting on her face.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song

Chat Noir felt his grip slacken slightly as the boy leaned down to Marinette's height and pressed his forehead to her own. He quickly gripped the tiles as the began to sing together.

I have faith in what I see

Now I have met an angel in person

And she looks perfect

I don't deserve this

You look perfect tonight

The moment the lyrics ended, Marinette leaned up a pressed her lips to the dark-haired man. Chat Noir could see his grip tighten on Marinette. Chat bit his lip and looked away, before rushing away as quietly as possible.

'This was suppose to be a private moment. I should have left or spoken up.'

Adrien couldn't help as his gaze landed on Marinette and the mysterious guy from the other night. He had seen them kiss, but it still took him by surprise when the guy lifted Mari's hand to his lips.

"I'll see you at lunch, Angel." he spoke.

Mari smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek, "'til then, Demon."

Adrien didn't have a chance to speak before Marinette strode right pass him. He quickly turned and watched her go up the stairs.

'That smile; I know that smile!'

He had caught himself enough times in his mirror or the reflection of his screen. There was only one person who made him smile like that: Ladybug.

'She's in love with him!'

He gulped and turned to see the dark-haired 'Demon' glaring at him, before walking away.

'An angel and a demon, huh? I hope Marinete knows what she's gotten herself into.'

PERMANENT TAG LIST:  @animeweebgirl​ @animegirlweeb​ @abrx2002​ @blueblossombliss​ @thepaceperson​ @alysrose-starchild​ @marveldcedits20​ @09shell-sea09​ @nickristus-dreamer​ @saltymiraculer​ @icerosecrystal​ @vixen-uchiha​ @a-star-with-a-human-name​ @meme991001​ @fandom-trapped-03​ @dood-space​ @moonlightstar64​ @insane-fangirl-of-everything

[effymaybe]

Omg, if you're still taking prompts, how about Sam and Mon going on the honeymoon or getting a pet or trying to do sports (I have a feeling that none of them is very good at it) or literally just hugging (I'm obsessed after that 1-minute FreenBeck's hug)? Khop khun na kha 🤗

Hey bbs, I’m going for the honeymoon one, but I’ll come back to the rest later. I bended the Thai law a bit for this cause I wanted the surname prompt, too! Kisses, kisses.

-

Sam thinks her wedding was magical, not in a movie-like, princesses and sparkles type of way but in the sense that is has ignited a kind of happiness in her soul that seems to permeate her entire life. Mon thinks it was perfect, everything she has never dared to dream of, lovely and nice, full of the people she loves the most. And she looks at Sam and Sam looks right back at her and it’s like the crush of a wave for them both, the fact that they are married, free, entangled and ready to face a life within each other’ arms. Sam has, of course, insisted that they both spend their one-week-long honeymoon in the most stounding private island money could buy. And Mon has agreed because it’s quite difficult saying no to Sam while being brought to delirium by her bare hands. So they set in a nice, peaceful journey just after the ceremony, Sam driving quietly with a tender smile dancing in her mouth as Mon sings and giggles, thoroughly joyous.

They spend their days gravitating around each other. Sam cooks breakfast and stares at the beach through the window until Mon finally wakes up and wraps her arms just at her waist, pepping kisses all over her back, reminding her once again that she has this, that this is her new truth, that she gets to enjoy Mon every day, for as long as they both want. So Sam turns around and kisses Mon deeply, and sometimes it ends with both feeding each other with the sun tickling their skin and some others with Sam gasping with her legs open, grasping Mon’s hair to keep her in place just where she likes her the most. They talk and dance. Mon pitches some ideas for work casually and Sam takes a mental note to dive into them deeply later. They walk on the beach barefoot, and Sam doesn’t pronounce a single mean word about it, because Mon is wearing a little pink bikini she chose herself so she thinks she has lost all rights to ever complain about anything in life.

They eat nice dinners and drink expensive wine, and a little bit of alcohol has Mon quite handsy. She stares at Sam with hunger, all sharp and blushed, and grasps her by her nape. I can’t believe I’ll have you like this forever, she says clearly, fucking lucky, she murmurs then, and Sam chokes a laugh by biting her lip. Mon frowns and uses her thumb to pull on Sam’s mouth because only I can do that, dear, and Sam raises her eyebrows. When did you get so bold, love?, she questions, but she adores it, and squeezes Mon’s waist only to get her jumping a little. She loves her so, so much. Don’t know, Mon answers, and she lets her lips brush against Sam and breathes, raggedly and painfully alluring, maybe when I became miss Anuntrakul, too. And her words wash on Sam beautifully, strong, irresistible, and yes, Mon is all hers, so she pushes her tongue right into her mouth because she can, and she lets her fingers caress her slick underwear because she can, and she takes her once, twice, three times, drunk in love. And Mon smiles between gasps and returns all favors right away, loving the feeling of her wife coming undone bellow her. She adores Sam so much she wishes she could just- just have her always, always, and now she has her surname blazing like a mark in her very existence and it feels, so, so nice.

So they have fun. Sam caresses Mon’s face once she falls asleep, and she’s sure she has found her soulmate. The tranquility of that thought lulls her to sleep. Mon searches for her warmth even asleep. She has found her soulmate, too.

[pompadourpink]

I saw the ask with the lonely 19 yo and it was great advice. But what about ace people like me? I'm 29 and lonely too. If I am not comfortable with adult activities is there any hope I can find and keep a relationship?

Yes. I made sure to talk about that point in the other post for fear of seeing the original poster get coerced into something she is not ready for and her ambitions worried me. However, here are the good news: there is not a single way to be in a relationship, there are thousands.

There is always someone willing to look over a potential partner's peculiarities or eccentricities if they're impressed enough. All types of people get into relationships, regardless of their sexuality, appearance, health, personality, kinks, family, finances, schedule, job - good grief, even people with so many red flags they make Lenin wake up can find partners who manage to see something they like! Don't ever convince yourself that there is a part of you that makes you unlovable. Unless you are actively harming others, that is not a thing.

The first man I was with saw me hide my stretch marks and took my hand away to cover them in kisses, and I was never ashamed again. Another, the first one who matched my energy, went to the doctor within two weeks to get medication because he was allergic to my cats, and upon learning I had time blindness, ran home every night to cook and feed me. A few times, I caught myself saying he listened to me too much whenever he remembered details and he would shake his head and smile at my nonsense. I stopped thinking this way after a while. The men I've been around since went above and beyond to make me smile, laugh, think of them, feel appreciated, even when we never dated. I received Friday flowers because I was born on a Friday. I was unexpectedly Uber-eated Indian food when I had forgotten to eat. I danced barefoot in the rain and got carried home to not have to step in puddles. And it happened because I thought I deserved it, without asking.

But before the energy matcher, I systematically dated men who disappointed me, treated me badly, and dumped me without a second thought, because I was hurt and thought that they were the best I could do - even the first one. I had to learn how to become the smooth operator I am today, because I was co-dependent, a great aftereffect of my childhood, and I sabotaged myself without realising it for a long time. I didn't listen to my gut. I didn't respect myself. I was so eager to be loved I would become a vampire the second someone liked me, even though they hadn't even had the time to prove themselves and earn me, and they would get so spooked by my behaviour they cowardly behaved like donkeys so they wouldn't have to do the dumping, and eventually did do it when I accepted to go with it because of how desperate I was. I still had to recover from that, not because I missed them, but because I felt unlovable, again, because I hated myself, so I needed someone to love me. But that doesn't call for a good relationship. It's an exhausting way to live, and I'm actually proud of those men for putting themselves first.

That is why I mentioned the second point in my other post. You have to deeply love and accept yourself if you want to be in a healthy relationship. You need to think that you deserve the world, that you are fantastic and worthy of love. You have to feel complete alone. But also, and that is the hard part, you cannot have expectations. You cannot give a hundred chances to people who made it clear they don't like you. You cannot chase - by definition, they don't want to be caught. This part is why I was talking about making good friends first. You have been running after a train and been destroyed every time it started to slow down but then flew away from you again. Stop running and calm down. Find stationary trains, enter them, walk around with your head up, and leave if you're not wanted. Go on casual dates, join groups, use dating apps or social media to chat, just to get used to people's presence and flirting. Keep learning how to love yourself, regardless of your sexuality.

Think of a celebrity you find very attractive and confident. Can you imagine them starting to talk about moving in together after three weeks and crying themselves to sleep when their brand-new partner kindly states that it's too early? Probably not.

When your heartbeat goes down, your confidence up, and instead of chasing down a train that doesn't want you you are able to wait for one to stop and enter it like it's your home, there is going to be a passenger who will look up and like what they feel. And another one, and another one. And you'll start chatting and joking around, and they'll like what they hear, or they won't. And they'll learn that you are ace, just like they could learn that you have 18 parrots, vaginismus or a sun allergy, and some will take off there, and that is their choice, and some will stay.

Don't apologise for who you are, and don't try to tolerate those who try to make you feel guilty for it. Make yourself an easy choice, a gem, a sunflower, fireworks, and your dates will stop feeling like they're walking into a trap. They'll feel like they're walking into a dream, and they won't care that they can't get it.

Now, obviously, I'm not ace, so I can only recommend you join online communities of people with similar situations to figure out if you want to seek someone who also doesn't have a libido or if you prefer to meet regular guys, disclose the information quickly and decide together how to deal with it.

Focus on healing. Put serenity first. Love yourself like you want to be loved. One day, someone will make life feel like a movie and you will never remember that you ever felt this way. Just a bit more patience, dear.

Love,

Mum

[jyoongim]

Bad Romance

This pt 1.

Based on the events of ep. 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the house of the dragon characters

In my mind palace, Rhaenyra and MC are twins

Daemon you dog 

I might insert a playlist for this

Bold for valyrian

(Y/n pov)

I will never understand why Father sent us on this tour, it's not like Rhaenyra and I are going to choose a suitor. The last batch ended in blood being spilled… now that I think about it I would have accepted the young boy…just give him a few years (he was able to own his own against those who spoke against him. 

We are setting back home quite early from tour…far too early and knowing father he will not be so happy… he’ll get over it. Rhaenyra is chatting with Ser Cole, I think the two make a good pair but that's just my opinion. (AND AUTHOR)

“Sister dear, do you think Father will drink himself to death when he learns we have not chosen a single suitor?” I asked while we approached King’s Landing. Rhaenyra laughed “we did try to warn him it would not end well. He’ll just -” 

A strained roar sounded from the sky, the flap of wings, and then RED. Caraxes! Rhaenyra and I looked in awe and then to one another excitedly “Uncle Daemon is back!”

*Skipping throne room dramatics right to the garden*

Father was flaunting Uncle Daemon like a prized horse. Going on about their upbringing and the ole days and such. Rhaenyra and I tried to speak to him, after all, it has been 4 years since Daemon left. Father was brushing us off as a nuisance; huffing we opted for a sit away from everyone. “They are all acting as if they did not hate uncle Daemon before he left for that war” I huffed to my sister in annoyance. Rhaenyra was just as annoyed and I knew she too felt kind of tossed aside.

“I hear I am to be graced with a performance from the Realm’s Delights” a deep voice sounded. Turning around there was Uncle Daemon smirking at us. “ y/n might be the one to do such a thing but I have no desire-” “HEY! You promised you'll dance with me this time!” I cut Rhaenyra off turning to her with wide eyes in disbelief as she and Daemon laughed. While Rhaenyra was taking jabs at him, I could finally get a good look at him, he really looked like a Prince, looking pass the short white hair, Daemon looked more defined; mature if you will… it was just good to have him back home. “I will take my leave now, I will see you two later tonight, I cannot wait” Daemon winked at us and strutted off to mingle among the lords. “Are you seriously not going to dance with me Nyra?” I puppy-eyed her holding onto her arm. “I made a promise did I not? Yes, I’ll dance with you…but just this ONCE.” she rolled her eyes laughing as we walked into the palace. 

Rhaenyra pov

Why did I agree to do this ridiculous show? That’s right because my twin asked. I think the whole performance is Father just trying to show us off in an attempt to find us suitors. He can say it is for Uncle Daemon had returned but he cannot trick me. The maids dressed me in a simple gold silk gown, having a sheer burgundy red shawl with gold accents pinned and draped over my shoulder, decorated my hands with gold bangles, and braided my hair into one single braid, instead of the usual boots I'm barefoot. My sister had everything laid out for me so I would not just put something on. She’s smart that one.

Once dressed I looked across the room to my twin finishing up and getting ready. She was dressed in the same gown except her hair was down, the shawl was black with gold accents and the maids were finishing painting the red paste on her fingers. “You really went out of your way for this performance huh sister?” I asked, crossing my arms smiling at her. She spun around and smiled big “ Yes but now I'm nervous cause most of the Realm will be watching us…what if I fall Nyra?” she was starting to babble, so I placed my hands on her shoulders and just reassured her. “You are the best dancer the Realm has to offer” she nodded and we were ushered to the door of the throne room, veils were placed on our heads and we glanced at each other and smirked before the doors opened. Rhaenyra pov end

As the doors opened and stepping through the princesses walked to be center of the floor. Veiled and barefoot, they bowed before the King, threw the veils to reveal the Realm’s prized possessions. Standing across from each other, they began to circle each other, eyes locked. Focused. *bloody mary plays*

When the beat of the music started Y/n raised her and Rhaenyra’s locked hands and stepped left on light feet twirling them into a circle. (Imagine ballroom dancing but fast paced)

I’ll dance, dance, dance

With my hands, hands, hands

Above my head, head, head

Like Jesus said

Daemon is positioned at the high table with all the Lords watching the twins spin, twirl, and sensually glide against each other. 

We are not just art for

Michelangelo to carve

He can't rewrite the aggro of my furied heart

I'll wait on mountain tops in

Paris, cold

J’veux pas mourir toute seule

Daemon stood from the table, Visenyi looked at him confused. He approached the Princesses, sliding right between them, grabbing one’s waist and the other’s hand; dipping them both. Once up, the girls looked to see who joined them…Uncle Daemon. He lowered his lips to their ears “I couldn’t resist joining the two of you” and spun them out with a step to follow. Daemon was a pretty damn good dancer, he complimented the girls' dance quite well.

I’ll dance, dance, dance

With my hands, hands, hands

Above my head

Hands together, forgive him

Before he’s dead

One last quick step and spin and the dance ended. Out of breath the twins smiled at Daemon and rushed out of the room to be formally dressed. Upon return the Princesses sat with their uncle and tried to ignore the stares of most of the lords and Daemon.

Y/n & Rhaenyra pov 

Daemon coming into the dance was a shock. Daemon was one for a show of course but that was incredible. The way he fitted between us felt so natural. His hands left a burning sensation in their wake wherever he touched. His gaze was on us as if we were the only person in the room. Was it right to think of uncle in that way? It was not above tradition to indulge in such but GAH! No! Not uncle Daemon… but that did not kill the fluttering in my belly, the burning of my cheeks or the heat between my legs…

omg i cant believe i wrote and posted this eeeeeehhhhh.... anyway be gentle with me guys lol

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hi, it’s me, Fanfic Anon #2. This is inspired by her 12 coups de midi appearance. She said not to read anything into her song choice other than she likes it, but … Hope you all enjoy!

He let a huge sigh of relief as he stepped through the door to their apartment as he felt the heavy weight of the day slowly slip off his shoulders as he entered their sanctuary. He was home - he was safe and loved here, whole here, himself here.

He could hear her in the kitchen, could hear the movement of pots and pans banging together, muffled a little by the melody he could hear playing from the speakers she had set up in there to allow her to listen to music while she worked. He smiled as he got closer to the kitchen and was able to identify the song - "Je suis venu te dire que je m'en vais." She loves that song, he knows, knows how much she loves poetry, in books, in his letters, in music.

He stopped in the doorway to watch her work, watching as she waltzed to and from the fridge to the stove to the countertop where she had prepped out their ingredients and back again, looking like a master at work. He also wasn’t embarrassed to admit, as he was staring at her barefoot and in a very tight pair of jeans, he was enjoying the show.

He stepped back into the next room to make his entrance again, loudly so as not to startle her.

"Chérie! I’m home!" he called out.

"Dinner’s almost ready!" she called back. "Come grab yourself a glass of wine, and sit down at the table to wait for me."

"Or," he said slipping in behind her and wrapping an arm around her waist, "I could wait here with you until you’re done."

"Dinner is going to be late if you keep doing that," she warned, not really protesting, as she leant back into him.

"That’s okay. I’m not really hungry, for dinner, right now anyway," he whispered in her ear before pressing a kiss to that one place on her neck that makes her knees weak.

"I need," she tried to get out as he kept up his ministrations, "to turn the stove off."

He reached around her and turned off the flame, "done," he told her grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the kitchen.

Later, much later, when they’re both finally able to think straight again, he dared to reveal, "you know, when I first walked in, I could hear what you were listening to, so I took a sneak peek of you in the kitchen."

"You sneaky man!" she lightly smacked him in rebuke.

He places an appeasing kiss to the top of her head. "I like watching you when you think no one is around. I mean I always like watching you, but there’s something so beautiful about you when all your walls are down and you just simply let yourself be."

"You think I have walls up around you?" she asked both concerned and a little offended.

"No. But I know this job comes with stress and responsibilities for you too, and, well. It’s been a while since I was able to watch you sing and dance barefoot in our kitchen," he smiled weakly.

"Emmanuel, you have seen every single piece of me, at my best, at my worst. The deep, dark corners of my mind, the glowing joys in the corners of my heart. Every fear, every doubt, every wish, every hope, every dream. You hold my soul, bare and completely open before you in your hands. As I see it, there is no distance, no wall, nothing between you and me."

"So you’re not going to come one day and tell me that you’re leaving me?"

"Chéri, what brought this on? Is it that song?"

"Yes. No. I don’t know!" he paused before asking, "Are you happy?"

"You are asking me that after what we just did?" she teased, making him blush pink. More seriously, she turned over in his arms to look him in the eyes as she gave him an answer she hoped would quiet whatever part of his soul was worried. "Yes, I’m happy. Sure, I never would have seen this coming in a million years, and sure, I would have preferred just one term. But for over 25 years now, you have taken me on the best, most unpredictable journey. You have given me my life. So of course, where you lead I will follow, happily, lovingly. Forever.

"I will never come to tell you I’m leaving, because I am never, ever leaving you. And if you ever doubt that, I want you to look down at your hands. Those two rings are perfect circles, they have no beginning and no end. Just like you and me."

Helloooo fanfic Anon #2! ❤️

Hahaha after the interview, Brigitte cooking seems to be the new trend 🤩 (still waiting for messy Manu in the kitchen too hahaha).

Manu watching her is just one of the most beautiful sights ever 🥰 hahaha and of course he just couldn’t help himself and want “dessert” before dinner 🤭😏 🔥

But bless him for having doubts (and fears) over the song and it’s meaning... Brigitte reassuring him was so beautiful and touchy 🥹🥰

Thank you so much, fanfic Anon #2! ❤️❤️❤️

[samjimcnez]

i just can't get enough of this beautiful life

Oh the places you'll go, with your eyes so wide With your heart in your hand, and your sword at your side Oh the mountains you'll move, oh the tears you'll cry Oh the places you'll go, little love of mine [ playlist tag . ]

Damage You Still Do ✧. Mikayla Pasterfield ┊ As a Child ✧. Madeline The Person ┊ Burned Out ✧. dodie ┊ idk god ✧. corook ┊ Slay the Beast ✧. Ariyel ┊ Drinking Song ✧. House Phone ┊ Air So Sweet ✧. dodie ┊ Beautiful Life ✧. The Collection ┊ Oh the Places You'll Go ✧. I Fight Dragons ┊ If We Have Each Other ✧. Alec Benjamin ┊ People Help the People ✧. Birdy ┊ The Night We Met ✧. Amber Run ┊ All Things End ✧. Hozier ┊ one year has passed (look at all we've been through) ✧. colours in the dark

+ lyrics

Damage You Still Do by Mikayla Pasterfield [ sam + her parents ]

And I'm back there again A scared little girl, too much pain to share Prayed to a god but he wasn't there I put all my faith in you You were too young to care Put up your hand, not your cross to bear Wanted to hate you but wouldn't dare Sometimes I think I do ... all of the stories I heard about you were true oh, what a shame all the damage you still do

As a Child by Madeline The Person

And I burn for myself 'Cause I know that I shouldn't when it's screaming at me to be felt And we burn all the time 'Cause it hurts all the more when we carry the world as a child

Burned Out by dodie

Oh maybe I'll talk about it I can just talk about it I'll never talk about it No, I can not talk about it

idk god by corook

I don't know why 'Cause I don't know God But if I did I'd ask for her thoughts Buy her a beer Ask why I'm here Lately the weight of the world is a lot…

Slay the Beast by Ariyel

Something dormant some thing upsetting I will slay the beast when I'm ready…

Drinking Song by House Phone

'Cause you won't rewrite history To commemorate the likes of me And you would not believe me if I tried To tell you all the things I've seen And all the places that I've been So pour the hall another cup of wine

Air So Sweet by dodie

I run barefoot, shoes at the door The air so sweet, I gulp and gasp for more A night so still, I dance, I soar Oh, this is what I'm living for

Beautiful Life by The Collection

You do not have to be known Even the best of us have sometimes felt alone This whole world is your home So, reach out your branches, let your roots down to the soil And watch the rain help you grow

Oh the Places You'll Go by I Fight Dragons [ sam + her grandpa ]

No I can't promise you'll be safe. I can't promise you won't lose your way But I promise you now, you'll get through it somehow, and you'll laugh about today And I can offer you this song for you to listen to when things go wrong And then maybe you'll know how I love you so and find a way to stay strong

If We Have Each Other by Alec Benjamin [ sam + ollie ]

I'm 23, and my folks are getting old I know they don't have forever and I'm scared to be alone So I'm thankful for my sister, even though sometimes we fight When high school wasn't easy, she's the reason I survived I know she'd never leave me and I hate to see her cry So I wrote this verse to tell her that I'm always by her side I wrote this verse to tell her that I'm always by her side I wrote this verse to tell her that

The world's not perfect, but it's not that bad If we got each other, and that's all we have I will be your brother, and I'll hold your hand You should know I'll be there for you

People Help the People by Birdy

People help the people And if you're homesick, give me your hand and I'll hold it People help the people Nothing will drag you down Oh, and if I had a brain, oh, and if I had a brain I'd be cold as a stone and rich as the fool That turned all those good hearts away

The Night We Met by Amber Run

When the night was full of terrors And your eyes were filled with tears When you had not touched me yet Oh, take me back to the night we met

All Things End by Hozier

A two-tonne weight around my chest feels like It just dropped a twenty-storey height If there was anyone to ever get through this life With their heart still intact, they didn't do it right The last time I felt your weight on my chest, you said "We didn't get it right but, love, we did our best"

And we will again Moving on in time and taking more from Everything that ends

one year has passed (look at all we've been through) by colorus in the dark

there are no lyrics just listen

[joanainthegardensofbabylon]

November 4th,

I'm gonna share with you all my reactions when I first listened to midnights. I was sharing all in real time in my 🐦 account, but I just have my friends, and unfortunately they're not swifities 🫠 BUT they're listening to taylor a LOT because of me, they all know my favorite songs lmao. I hope you all have a great day🤎

💙✨ MIDNIGHTS REVIEW 💙✨

Track 1- Lavender Haze

From the track name, clearly there is a parallel between this track with our beloved Track 6 from Lover, "I Think He Knows". The bridge is very sensual, It's really nice and smooth to be heard and answers some things that the media/fans questions her. I liked.

Track 2- Maroon

Sounds a LOT like KOMH 🖤/ Clean 💙. She said that there's no vault tracks from the other eras, but I was willing that this track was written around those 🥲 (especially bc she talks about pouring wine, reference to "Dress" and about dancing barefoot in NYC, can be ref of Cornelia Street and DWOHT) OMG F*CK the person brought CARNATIONS thinking they were roses 🥲 I'm sure It's a metaphor for being dead,bc carnations are consider funeral flowers.

Track 3- Anti-Hero

It parallels several verses of "The Archer", I heard about 3 times bc I'm in SHOCK with this song. It hurts. And also reminds me a little of "right where you left me" and "this is me trying". She knew SO MUCH leaving this song as a single. Extremely identifiable FVCK 🫥 When she's intensifying the "s" in "agrees", sounds like the hiss of a 🐍, hello reputation...

AND I LOVE the music video, SO MUCH EASTER EGGS 😰😰 blondie you're AMAZING. When she points "it's me, hi, i'm the problem it's me at tea time everybody agrees" and it parallels Alice in Wonderland, it’s genius. Especially because Alice comes in time for tea to talk to the Mad Hatter, and that was a problem. This song quotes so many fairytales, wow. I think It's a way to dissociate from the reality, that's why you're an Anti-Hero 🫠

Track 4- Snow on The Beach (ft. Lana Del Rey)

IT SOUNDS LIKE "Illicit Affairs"!!! I listened the extended version, and this song exales and smells like Lana. Absolut masterpiece. Weird but f*cking beautiful, like snow on the beach 😉

Track 5- You're On Your Own, Kid

This track is a lot relatable, feels like she knows me (I can say this about ALL her songs lol). It has SO MANY REFERENCES!!! "MAATHP", "TIWWCHNT" are examples. The fact that she was a kid delivering her demos to executives in a parking lot. The bullyings she suffered at school, the e.d. It hit's me so much, It's a beautiful sad track. Thank you darling 🥺

Track 6- Midnight Rain

This track feels purple blueish. Again I feel like "MAATHP" is referenced. It sounds similar like "Renegade" (definitely an Aaron Dessner production lmao thanks it's amazing/i love this song SO MUCH). Tay pls tell me that you're referencing "Daylight/Champagne Problems"...And I know who you're talking about hahahaha I LOVE THIS TRACK!!!!!!!

Track 7- Question...?

BLONDIE I FELT THE "Out Of The Woods" REFERENCE 🥵 This track makes so much sense, she mixes past and present, so cool. So many tracks I can make a parallel, i LOVE it!

Track 8- Vigilante Shit

It's my favorite. Tastes like victory and revenge. I felt the parallel between "I Did Something Bad" and "mad woman". It sounds like "I Know Places". It makes so much sense she's messing with me I'm in love with this track. "Lately I've been dressing for revenge/ Don't get sad, get even"

Track 9- Bejeweled ⭐️

ITS A MATCH! Our beloved "mirrorball" it's grateful for this turnaround. The music video is so perfect, I'm DEFINITELY ready for Speak Now TV✨

Track 10- Labyrinth

It reminds me a lot of "The Archer" again, as if it were a twist on the character of our darling track 5. What a delight to be able to listen to this song 💙 It hurts, of course, but it feels good. There's a million songs that remind me of this track, but are too many references for my swifitie head lmao 🤣. I know "this is me trying" and definitely labyrinth likes this song 🥹

Track 11- Karma

I laughed when I first listened to LMAO SO GOOD!!! I don't think It's necessary to talk about this track, It's self explanatory. "ME!" it's happy rn, have a sister to share the references. JOE ALWYN FIGHT WITH ME 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Track 12- Sweet Nothing 🥹

"I spy with my little tired eye" show us the pureness and youthful love of them. William Bowery I'm your fan, your songs always feels like home. It's confy, It's warming. It's a beautiful lyric track 🥺 she's expressing to us and him all her deep sensations and feelings. He is her soulmate. I can't express how I admire this song in english, even though I'm fluent. We have some words in Portuguese that unfortunately cannot be translated to the real meaning of what is this song. Wow.

Track 13- Mastermind

WOW TAYLOR!! I have NO words ENOUGH to tell you all what this song brings to THE WORLD ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ The bridge simply caused me a breakdown 🫠 Sad sad sad sad sad but so relatable. I felt this punch in my whole body. When she points that he knows all along, we knew it too. You're a mastermind blondie, and he as well 😭❤️

⭐️BONUS TRACKS⭐️

(personally my favorites from the whole album)

TRACK 14- The Great War

Aaron, you knew what you're doing. IT'S SPECTACULAR!!! Imo, should be in the normal version of the album, i'm gonna call it the sister of ivy ✨ hahahaha 🤣 Amazing bonus track, so worthy to be listened, really. A f*cking beloved lyric masterpiece. Taylor, you're a superhuman😍

TRACK 15- Bigger Than The Whole Sky

F*ck f^ck f^ck f%ck WTF I'M F&CKING SOBBING RN 😭🥲 so strong, so so sad and wonderful. "this is me trying/august" girlies are lying on the floor rn. The lyrics, the production, everything about this track It's so well done.

TRACK 16- Paris

B*TCH YOU'RE referencing DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS????!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAA BLONDIE YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN IT'S A LOT OF EASTER EGGS JUST FOR ONE FANDOM 🥵🥵🥵🥵 PLS LISTEN TO THIS TRACK, It smells like CROISSANT AND THE BREEZE IN A LAVANDER FIELD

TRACK 17- High Infidelity

Wait...April 29...TIWWCF launched...😳😳😳😳 she's not joking. Just a couple days before THE met gala, yes, THE ONE "flashback when you met me, your buzz cut and my hair bleached" 😶‍🌫️ I'm SPEECHLESS 😶

TRACK 18- Glitch

4 A.M. GIRL I JUMPED WITH THIS TRANSITION LMAO 😭...waiT....1290 days before today = 10/21/2016 😳🫠 F*CKKKKKKKKK TAAAAAY AND JOOOOOEEE I'M PICKING THE REFERENCES FROM GORGEOUS AND READY FOR IT... HOW DOES IT FEELS TO BE A MUSE JOE ALWYN, YOU KNOW YOU WON RAWR THE MAN IS SPARKLING THE MAN IS ON FIREEEEE

TRACK 19 - Would've, Could've, Should've ⭐️❤️‍🩹💔

I have to tell, It's my favorite song from Midnights. I am a truly speak now girlie, and I'm 19 and relate to this song. It's so personal and raw, I felt her despite and regret and PAIN. I cry so hard with this track. It feels like there's something stuck on my throat 🫥. It's definitely the most sad/desperate/ traumatic song/bridge she's ever done. I love this song, but it hurts too much. If I see this man one day, he's gonna beg me for forgive (and taylor, our special person). I'm sending you hugs and lots of love dear Taylor, really.

TRACK 20- Dear Reader ❣️

It's the perfect last track. A whole story. A whole album. The end (but not really, 'cause life's still there). She closed the album with a work of ART. Really, truly sad. But beautiful. It seems like a continuation of the speech she gave at NYU, it makes sense. It was very worth being able to listen and enjoy Midnights. I appreciate and thank you (Tay) with my whole soul for writing this song. It's a real and delicious hug. You, my dearest Taylor Swift, are a RARE person. You have a pure heart and an enlightened soul.

With all the Love,

Joana (@joanainthegardensofbabylon)

[onmymasa22]

I think my biggest secret is that I was one of those people who slept on a bench in the street. Who through up and peed and even pooped on the street because I saw the street as my home. It's funny because I became friends with someone who also lived on the street and she said a part of her feels like that was the best time of her life. For me, it was definitely an adventurous part of my life. I bounced around sleeping on all my friends couches, becoming a member of their family, lots of all nighters, addicted to escaping with alcohol almost every night without fail. I loved the way I felt buzzed. This was my rock bottom. Almost getting caught up in cocaine. Throwing up on the streets. Having nowhere to go and being so emotional and red in the face from the alcohol. This was rock bottom and I knew I needed to change it. I got on medication to help me want a normal boring life half the time and the other half I wanted to end living at all. I don't talk about any of this to anyone. I really don't want the friends I have now to know it, and at the same time, I feel like no one understands me that specific way. People would judge me, not see how strong I am. The people who think I'm strong don't know anything really. I stopped drinking alcohol which was excruciating. I stopped hanging in the same friend group which was even more excruciating. This made me really want to die until I pushed through till sleeping in my own bed became normal for me. That took a lot of work. I stopped talking to the people who I always drank with and I told myself that I had to sleep in my own bed the nights before morning shifts. Those were my rules. Slowly I cut out more friends and stayed in more. Stopped coloring my hair and took the septum ring out. No one knows any of this because the main idea that I know what it's like to live on the streets is my biggest deepest darkest secret. ⅞

I'm terrified of having Abad marriage

Of marrying so and it isn't good. I just want someone who is so in love with me. They'll do anything for me. They'll be so completely inlove with me because I'm ready to be totally completely inlove with them.

I'm so happy that I'm able to sleepwith zissy while the new baby is being born. It's so great. When they get older and ask who took care of zissy when * was born, they'll say their aunt, dalya. Me. I took care of everything. The cool aunt. The aunt that comes and loves them up. I'm not fighting you. My job is to love you and I take that job very seriously.

My life

I want to be happy. I want to live by the beach somewhere. I want balconies. It will have a suite for my parents or guests- guest bedroom and guest bathroom. Something sweet will be cooking in the oven making the house always smell good. I will always have something sweet and a drink to offer guests.

I want to live in an apartment complex by the beach with elevators and a doorman and balconies. It will have a suite for my parents. I want to always have something sweet baking in the oven, making the house smell delicious. Someone will come over and I'll always have something good to offer them. I want lots of kids. We're going to go to spend every weekend in the summer at the beach. I want to be barefoot dancing around the kitchen to music. I want to invite friends over for a cup of coffee outside on the balcony or terrace. The kitchen smells like coffee and

by the beach with a doorman and an elevator. The apartment will have an art studio. The parking will be safe and I'll have a nice car. There will be a guest suite for my parents.

I want a bunch of kids, eat pancakes on the couch, to be a photographer. I want to cook and bake in cute loungeware and no socks. I want to drive a nice car that I can pick my parents up when they come. go on hikes to beautiful places, have the air smell good, watch old movies, clean, drink water, sleep, shower daven, read, go to the gardens

I want to listen to music, go on walks and hike beautiful places, have the air smell good. Watch old movies, clean, drink water, sleep, shower, daven, write letters to gd, read a book, go to a garden, go to a library, beach, wake up to the smell of coffee and vanilla, enjoy bread and butter, fruitcake and tea, apples and peanutbutter, strawberries yummy wine or rosé. Own a really nice coat, nice shoes, and a nice purse.

Lay on the grass and stare at the stars. To sit with the people I love and talk about life. To put on a frank Sinatra record and dance in the kitchen making food. To shower and sleep in clean pajamas at night with a nice white blanket and clean sheets. To work out and be fit and eat a Mediterranean diet of fruits veggies and olive oil. To wear white clothes and sandals. Life was meant to be enjoyed.

I want the diamond ring and a platinum band. A nice timex watch, flowers in my hair, a white flowy simple dress, sparkly sneakers, diamond studs. I will have whatever wedding everyone else wants and plan a honeymoon in Paris. Peony bouquet

According to Steve Harvey, every couple should have 4 bank accounts. 1 shared to pay all the necessities- electricity water house car, one checking account that u need both signatures to move for savings, and one for each side where you can spend money without checking in, that way the bills are paid, you're saving a bit, and you can each have a life

I'm accepting it: I'm a girl who likes massages. I can tell a guy I'm comfortable with that I like it when he rubs my back. I like hard. I like tight hugs and when I can feel it. I feel like the tighter he holds me the more he loves me. I'm more secure in myself.

Blender:

Green hot pepper

Cusbara

Garlic

Oliveoil

Bharat

Lemonjuice

Hilbe:

Hilbe seeds, boiling water, big bowl

Foodprocessor lemonjuice garlic blackpepper tomatoes

Zalabia sphinge lahuh pita hilbe schug chrimeh tzatziki

Learn to speak yemenite hebrew- from the first beit hamikdash

I want to be an artist

I want to get married

I want to be a mom

I want to be an emt

I want to live away from the city

Whitebathrobe whitetowelsets greytowelsets magazine portablecharger queensheet strawberries rosè

Car Wallet keys cellphone earbuds phone phonecharger

I want a nice car, a nice apartment, to go to the beach all the time, to get married in elul, get an apartment in Netanya 10 minute walk from the beach with a balcony- 3 rooms Drink water

Painting, pizza, beach, ice cream, movies, playing instruments, hanging out with friends, listening to music, traveling

Recordplayer piano

Coffee

Get a little apartment with a balcony/garden

Get a dog

Have a job- coffee shop or something

Art, paint, beachy7our , friends, coffee, pizza, icecream, guitar, music, recordplayer, piano

Photography, painter

Get a car

My mom gives the best advice

I'm just waiting for someone who loves me. She said that the right person will do whatever it takes to get me. The wrong guys will give you issues. The good guys- u say what it'll take to get you and they'll do it no problem. They just want to know what it takes.

When I have kids, I want for my parents to come, and stay with them- my mom and my husband. And I'll go to eilat with my dad. Or we'll all go in a plane to the hotel. I'd save up for that now.

Go to Eilat

Go to Greece, and more of the places I've seen- see more in Italy and France and Amsterdam

Go to Australia to see the great barrier reef

When I get engaged: platinum diamond and aquamarine ring, platinum wedding band, silver colored watch

When im married: lingeriesets silkhairscarves velvethairscarves chanelsuits

Why do we need to live like this

Why does living long matter

I just want to tell u. I don't expect anything from u with this. And if I could tell u face to face, I would. But I'm so sorry if I made u feel bad with the whole segev thing. If u felt blamed or in crossfire or like I was going to do something to myself and blame u, im really sorry. I just want to explain more, about a year after that, I started the process of getting diagnosed with adhd and going on medication for it. It really just helped me understand that my emotions can be unbalanced if I don't consciously try to balance them. At the time, I would say I felt too much and didn't know what to do with it. After medication and a few trips to a psychologist I got a handle on everything. My life is better now, and I'm not the same person I was, and I just want to say, I'm embarrassed with how I treated you and how I might have made u feel at that time. I think I was just really hurt on a very deep level that had more to do with my emotions than reality. I tried to be very closed so that no one would blame anyone and it wouldn't be a thing. And I know this is a long time ago, but I just want to say, that I'm embarrassed of the way I acted then, and I'm sorry to the gal of 2019.

Everyone's getting engaged and I'm single. I'm happy for them. I'm supposed to be happy for them. My turn will come. I will have as many kids as I want, no issues.

8:26pm Sunday August 13, 2023

U will get married

Believe in hashems plan and hashems time. U have ur own time that might not be the people prescribed "right time" and that's OK. I'm accepting that as my reality. I will not rush U. I will have faith that being as open as I can be with bring him to me and me to him. I ask you to give both of us strength in this waiting process. I hope he's relaxed. I hope he has a good day. I hope he sleeps well. I don't want him to be in pain like me. Please give him health. Please make him surprisingly happy. So happy his mind clears and he's wondering why he suddenly feels OK. U and I will know it's because of me. And maybe mine is because of him. Heal him for me. Make him appreciate his life. Give him good dreams. Answer his prayers before mine. I love him so much but I dont even know him. I have a faceless being in my head. And I love him. I just know how perfect he'll make me feel. I'm crying now hoping he's happy. But really the whole- me loving him is me telling u to answer his prayers before mine. Because that's the only way I can love him and show him I love him and take care of him. Whatever he needs, whatever he's davening for, give it to him, make sure he's OK. Please make him feel loved. I love him so much I'm crying. I wish I could love him more but u don't know who he is. Hashem please show me him just so I can love him. Just so I love him in more ways than this. I don't think I've ever prayed and cried before. This is the first time. It just shows me how much I love you. Where instead of feeling jealous of all my friends, I can feel happy for their happiness and lives and turn my tears of jealously and anguish to tears of davening. For him, for you. I also want to feel hugged back. I want someone who will hold my gross sweaty hand when I'm too hot, or fart infront of when I eat too much sugar. I want to feel totally accepted for my good traits as well as my flaws and he will speak to the best version of me advising her. I will spend my life- davening for him, loving him, caring for him, building a life with him, devoted to him fully, loyally, fiercely. He would even understand how he could be loved so much but he'll know also that he deserves it and the same for me. It all will happen when it's supposed to. So right now, all I can do is daven for you. That ur happy and healthy and enjoying life. That Noone is making you feel bad, that you will know the right thing to say today or tomorrow. That u will be nicer to ur mother and forgive your parents for not being perfect before it's too late. That u say I love you more, and feel love. It's baffling that I have this power with out knowing it's address. I hope you listen to your favorite song and that ur motivated to wake up and do ur best. I hope tomorrow is a really good day. I hope it bothers u less than me that ur still single. I hope ur stronger than yesterday. I hope u win ur battles and ur demons. I hope the people around u make u feel cherished. I hope that when we meet, others don't feel hurt or pain with themselves. We will meet. And that day will hopefully be great.

My mom- the math teacher: so she's 40

My dad- the chess genius: no she's 44

Me- the art major: she's 42- when u were 2, she was 2 years older, so she'd still b only 2 years older, so it's 42

Full disclosure: I did happen to take my adhd pills in the morning. Had I not, my answer could've been 163 for all I know

Things i learned being an aunt when no one taught me how

Always give one two many pieces of chocolate

A two year olds music obsession will be stuck in your head. You will fall alsleep singing one line to the song a million times

Love too much and give kisses for free

Be a high five and fist bump kimd of aunt

I dont know what kind of issues she'll have... but i dont want them. I want my kids issues. My kids issues might be that sjes left hsnded so shell need left handed instruments. Shell be pretty though. She needs to be pretty. Shell b the prettiest little girls and little boys in the world. Please hashem, make my kids pretty without aesthetic or internal issues. Give her adhd too or anxiety or something. But she should be very pretty.

I want to move on, from ppl i knew. I want to meet new people. Who dont know all the crap ive been through. I want to just be me.

I wa t to make a painting that has grandma Sima next to lady diana. I feel like I'm both

I feel like my soul is part Holocaust survivor, part princess

I am lady diana. I have her soul. I would never say it out loud to anyone. I don't want the attention or to need to prove myself. I just am her.

Wedding

I want a destination wedding: a Vinyard garden. Yummy wine. Good music. A really good photographer. An afternoon wedding. With a good photographer. I'll be on birthcontrol before so I know I won't get my period. I want to wear a silk dress with a timeless top. Emerald earrings with pearls on the bottom. I'll trade in the gold diamond and emerald ring for a platinum aquamarine and diamond ring and a platinum platinum band. I want a silk white dress with an overtop- maybe ivory ostrich feather bolero or a red fox or light brown fur coat.

I want a black silk dress and a tweed jacket, black chunky heels

I want a life where I can have elies kids come to my house so that they can go on a vacation and I can have my kids at his house for vacations with my husband

Marriage is not a job, it's an investment. It's bigger than just u and u need to put time into it to get rewards and a relationship. It's not automatic.