Hey! Recently finished LotR for the first time and just wanted to thank you for sharing so much amazing writing with the fandom!
I was wondering, after reading the how many children they’d like hcs, if you’d be comfortable writing some characters(personally requesting Legolas and Eowyn, but whoever you’d wish of course!) meeting their(/them and their partner’s if they already have children ofc) firstborn!
Either way! Tysm for reading and have an amazing day!!
Forgot I had one more finished draft lmao sorry everyone🤙🏻 here's one more post
Bro OF COURSE I love doing parent AU stuff!!! This is such a cute imagine omg. Also thanks for the kind words & welcome to the fandom 🥰 consider this part 2 of the pregnancy headcanons~
Warnings: some descriptions/mentions of childbirth/labor pain/blood (not too graphic though!)
LoTR Characters Meeting Your First Child Together (Wife!Reader)
Aragorn
Concern paints your husband's handsome features, furrowing his dark brow and glittering deeply in his blue eyes at your sudden, frantic motions. You are too quiet, too focused. Hiding something, perhaps? "What troubles you?" Aragorn asks, moving to your side, a hand caressing your shoulder as he breathes your name. Eyes widening, you start for a moment before deflating in a sigh. "I think the baby is coming. But I did not wish to worry you until I was certain, until I had more prepared and-" Saying your name, this time a little more firmly and a lot more lovingly, Aragorn takes your hand. "Worry me? Cast all your worries upon me. I am your husband. My heart is yours, and my service. Come, we will go to the healing halls at once."
~
Aragorn smooths your hair, wincing as you cry out and calmly whispering encouragement. He quiets you down as the pain and stress wash over you in nearly blinding waves, your body writhing with each push. Hours pass like this, Aragorn your one anchor until finally, blessedly, your body can fall limp against your sickbed and pant and sigh in relief, the babe proclaimed healthy and taken to be soothed and cleaned. "What a marvel. Truly you prove strength beyond measure every day. Beyond that, I simply love you more every day," he adds with a smile. Leaning up to kiss him, you fix your husband with tired eyes, loving gaze broken only by the midwives' calls. "My king," they say, "a son was born to you! The prince of Gondor!" "A son," you repeat, finally breaking back into a grin as you accept your little boy. Aragorn looks down upon him too with as wide a smile, greeting him in Elvish. "My son," he says, "how loved you are, and how blessed are we your parents. May you grow strong, healthy, happy, our little gift."
Legolas
Even as far as you had gotten, an unspoken fear had crept up between you and your husband until the very day of your labor, but your twins held fast. Such a thought echoed through your mind as much as you could bear to will it between the waves of pain. They held fast, and so would you, your husband at your side stroking your head and holding your hand, whispering calming words in the language of his people. Through tears, you smiled at the beautiful sound, at Legolas's constant reminders that you are strong, you are the most amazing gift the prince has born witness to in hundreds of years. He reminded you to look into his eyes as you were urged to push harder, your hips burning like never before...
~
"A son. A son and a daughter,” Legolas breathed, pulling you and both your twins into a gentle embrace. “And my wife. What more could I desire? Nothing. Nothing indeed.” You feel moisture, realize a tear has slid from Legolas’s eye to your hand, and reaching up you dry his eye before bringing your hand down to stroke the side of his face. You can feel the bags of exhaustion circling your eyes and your whole body aches, but all you can do is smile, smile until your face is just as sore; with your aching pleasure glowing throughout you nuzzle the babe in your arms, your son. “Our dreams are finally reality, Legolas. I would ask for no more either.”
Boromir
"What for it? What can I do?" Boromir is less calm than you expected at your sudden pain, the downward rush you can only assume is the baby coming. Not that you have told him that already. "Let us go to the healers." You try to steady your breathing, praying your water will hold out and break only upon entry to the home of the dear friend you'd selected to aid in your birth. Grateful are you for the grasp of your husband’s hand and the strength with which his arm raises you, tugging you against him for support, even if you feel his heart racing like mad when your hand falls against his chest.
~
For hours you toiled, your body rent and torn in creative horror as Boromir tried his best with jokes and sweet words to keep your wits about you… for far shorter hours than usual in your friend’s words. “I find that hard to believe,” you panted as she cleaned the child. “No, truly that was quite amazing,” your friend shot back, stepping back your way with a bundle in her hands, “We’ve had them take twenty hours before. Five is quite fast I daresay.” Every orifice in your body cried out with pain, so all you could do was incline your head until you raised it again, saw the child in her outstretched arms and felt your lips part in amazement. Eyes still closed, your child groped for you, stilling a bit in satisfaction upon your acceptance, feeling the weight fall and rest gently upon your chest. “Impatient little man and with some fire too! He fought against cleaning quite well.” “Little man?” Boromir’s head snapped so rapidly up to your friend and back to your baby you thought he might snap something. “We have a son?” “Indeed you do, you old dog, you,” she grinned. “It’s a boy!” He shouted gleefully, one hand resting firmly between your son’s and the other cupping your cheek and yanking your lips to smash against his. When Boromir pulled away, he laughed aloud, hearty and triumphant. “Bless him and bless you for giving him to me! I never knew I could be this happy, love!” Your smile widened to match his grin. Suddenly your pain didn’t seem quite so bad.
Gimli
“Push! Push!” “Am I not?!” You reply, uncaring of the raise of your voice or the vice of your hand about your husband’s. For his part and quite in spite of himself, Gimli must laugh, for such was the fire that stole his heart some time ago and the fire from which your newest love was forged- though not without some trouble first. Chip off the ol’ block, indeed! “That’s it, that’s it,” the healer encouraged, “yer doin’ great, lassie!” “Doesn’t feel like it!” Even as he winces in pain by your iron grip, Gimli chuckles again.
~
“A healthy little lad!” Six more hours have passed, but finally he’s in hand and you won’t give him up for anything. Except Gimli- he is the only one to survive your death glares when he reaches for your son, and pushing some hair off his shoulder he gently extends his arms further when you acquiesce. His lips part in an o of endearment and shock at your son, crying moments ago but now laying peacefully in his father's arms. Breaking into a wide smile, Gimli stares down with moist eyes and it is like time is frozen. “My son,” he half-declares, half-sobs. His gaze tears from the babe after a minute or two only to meet yours and bring a wide, triumphant smile to his face. "And most importantly, son of the fairest this earth has yet set forth, she who gave herself that he should be here. You did wonderful, my love. Thank you." "Thank you for being his father," you reply, "and for loving me through it all, even when I was quite ugly about it." "Ah..." Gimli replies diplomatically, "you were in a great deal of pain." Of course he forgives you, he worships the ground you walk on, after all, and you have just gifted him the honor of a son, a little flame all his own! And who, the dwarf suspects with another smile, shall look a lot like his father too!
Frodo
Frodo walked you all the way to the bed and laid you down by himself before he would finally relinquish any care of you to the midwife, despite the fact that he had selected her. You knew it was borne of no distrust of her, however, only a sign of the immense care in his heart he felt for you and the sum of all the kindnesses done upon Frodo in his most difficult years. When you love someone, after all, you carry them up a mountain. You lay them down and take their hand and kiss their forehead, telling them you will never leave them in their greatest pain. Just as your husband now did, just as he spoke upon cradling you close, grip only tightening as you cried out in pain.
~
"You're doing so well," Frodo encouraged during your last pushes, stroking your sweat-beaded forehead, "This is almost over." Indeed it was, for minutes later your final whimper broke Frodo's heart, sending spikes of dread shooting down his spine until a new set of cries stopped them cold. "She's here," the midwife tells you, standing up and fetching the cloths she'd dunked earlier. "A girl," Frodo breathes, "A little girl!" "Our little girl," you agree, reaching out to accept the tiny babe. Frodo's heart melts at her now-calmed face, the way her tiny eyelids flutter and the spray of tiny dark curls already visible on her head. "Hello there," he whispers, "my beautiful little girl. Never did I think my heart could give any more, and yet here it is, doubly taken."
Sam
"What's wrong? You look a little peaky. Here, why don't we-" "Sam, I'm fine. I just think I twisted my- hngh!" Crumpling in half with a grunt of pain you cannot even complete your sentence. Sam is rushing to your side, taking your hand and leading you back to your shared bedroom. "Shh, shh, it's going to be ok, you'll see. I'll get the midwife and she'll know everything to do, alright?" Sam's green eyes are warm as ever, his tone the sweetest and most soothing thing you've ever heard and ever will. Despite the waves of pain and the gush you begin to feel soaking the sheets around you, you find yourself nodding and willing up a faint smile.
~
"You're a strong lass, aren't you?" The midwife remarks as Sam returns to the room with more boiled water, looking at you with wonder in her pale blue eyes. Panting, you manage to reply that you suppose so with a faint smile of amusement before being wracked with the pain of another contraction. The only thing that keeps you going is the way your husband is there, leaving only to help you both before tumbling back against the bedframe to grip your hand, never once losing his smile even as you crushed the life out of him. It feels like a lifetime and yet no time before cries fill the room, your head immediately whipping to Sam's and meeting the tears spiling from his kind, loving eyes. "You did it," he whispers your name with awe, kissing your head, then your cheeks sweetly and softly again and again until the midwife is ready with your bundle of joy. "She's beautiful," the older hobbit comments, handing your baby off to you and beaming as you pull your daughter into your chest, loosening her swaddle enough to see her peaceful face. "Lovely," Sam replies, tone even more awed now despite its faint sob, "she looks like her mother. Her mother who worked so hard. Look, she has your hair." "She sure does," you agree, "but I hope she got your eyes." "Nah," he shook his head, "that can be the next one. I love that she's the spitting image. You've earned it after all that, I fear." You laugh at that, still smiling down at your daughter's face, which is still red and calming from her cries of alarm. "That I have. But the only reason I could at all was because of you, Sam." Tears falling anew, he shakes his head one more time. "The thanks are all yours. I knew you could do it all along. It's 'cause of you we have our little beauty."
Merry
"Come on, come on, that's it," Merry coaxed, lowering you down into the squatting position you'd asked for. Inside he was screaming bloody murder, but it was no good letting you know that, not when he had a duty to do and the most important one at that. No indeed, courage was far beyond necessary. Just as he'd had on the battlefield, he was to have with you. For you. Merry only could thank his lucky stars that you began your labor at home while he was there. Once you'd gotten settled, he reluctantly began to pull away his hand from yours, face falling at the way your fingers trembled. "I'm just going to get help. I'll come right back for you." "I know," you whispered with a smile, and just as it had been broken Merry's heart was up and skipping beats.
~
What a good sport the midwife was, for she had been in the middle of her afternoon tea when Merry found her, but never had he seen a napkin thrown down so fast. She rushed with him back to you and found you there still squatting and wincing, this time with sweat beading upon your brow. For hours there you remained, flanked on both sides by husband and midwife, until suddenly your skirts were lifted even further and the lady was calling "He's out!" You cried out in pain and relief and Merry just laughed and gave a big smile before remembering you, looking down at you with great concern. At that, you gave a chuckle of your own. "Sounds like we have a son, Merry." "We have a-" "Certainly you do and quite a big one! Here, you can hold him if you like, but not after the missus has a turn," the midwife cut in, laying your son in your arms. Merry's jaw positively dropped at the sight of him, and he leaned down to speak at once. "Hello there, little one. It's me, your dad. You remember the sound of my voice, don't you?"
Pippin
“Pippin, it’s time.” “Time? Time for what?” You loved your sweet, wonderful, clueless husband, but now was simply not the time. “The baby is coming! Get my supplies, please.” Your command came out as more of a whimper, your face twisting into a grimace at the feeling of moisture trickling down your leg. Water’s broken, then. Pippin caught sight of this, paled, and tore off down the hall, a crash sounding and a handful of stomps before he emerged again, bag slung over his shoulder and a pile of rags in one hand. "You know, for your..." "Yes, I know," you nodded, smiling in faint amusement as he took hold of your arm, barely giving you any time to straddle the rags at all.
~
"Push!" "What am I doing, then?" Your reply shattered Pippin, for it dripped with no sarcasm, only broken tears as you struggled with the pains of labor. The midwife shed a tear of her own, promising you did well, but this went on for hours until suddenly, finally, cries pierced the room's tense air and a massive smile spread across Pippin's face. "You did it!" A loud, triumphant laugh. "You did it, my love!" "She sure did," the midwife agreed, handing the babe off to another older hobbit and chuckling at the way Pippin's open hands followed them. "Don't worry your head off, he's just getting cleaned up." "He? It's a boy! Love, it's a-" "I heard," you grinned, "A little mini-Pippin. Just what I always wanted." "Are- are you joking?" "No," you shook your head, accepting your son with open, grabbing hands, "Not at all. Oh, look, he really does look just like you, too! Oh, Pippin!" Another little Pippin. This time hopefully not one who'll make the same mistakes. No. No, he won't, because he'll have the big one to guide him. And you, oh, his lovely wife... "Pip, are you crying?" "Of course I am," he replied in a quiet, awe-filled voice, leaning to press his curly head to yours, "Our son. Yours and mine. What a glorious gift you've given me. I'm going to work every day to pay you back."
Faramir
Faramir would have given anything to escape the meeting he had become entrenched in, the droning on about some law or another that- Slam! A messenger came bursting in through the door, one of the young page boys whom Faramir had sent notes off with. Rather than pass a message, though, the young man strode right over to his seat and leaned in to whisper to him. Feeling his face contort in shock, then a smile, Faramir rose from the chair at once. “My apologies, gentleman, but my wife has gone into labor. I will review all notes taken at my earliest convenience.” So it seemed the twins inherited their mother’s sense of humor.
~
Watching you strain and hearing your ragged breaths, listening to every cry of pain, stabbed Faramir in the heart with a hurt of his own. He never let go of your hand for a moment, though, despite the ache in those muscles as well. For hours he whispered you words of encouragement, reminding you that you were his hero and that you were doing great, even if it didn’t feel such. And finally your grip was tightening one final time, one final cry of pain as the second twin was born. First your daughter had come. “A girl!” Faramir breathed. “We have a daughter.” And with that last push Faramir himself caught your son. “A son as well. Two beautiful children.” Tears welled up in his eyes, which quickly turned to you as your son was cut free, lifted from his arms, and cleaned. Thumb stroking over the back of your hand, Faramir leaned over, head resting against yours. His stubble tickled your face as he shifted to press a kiss to your cheek. “We got the most difficult one out of our way first, hm?” You joked. Breaking into a tearful grin at your words, Faramir nodded.
Eomer
He should never have agreed to ride out on that patrol, but the others were pushing harder than usual and Eomer knew they trusted him. Trust went far in the Riddermark. Hence his shouts of frustration upon returning to a herald rushing his way and telling him that you had gone into labor. Luckily only about an hour and a half back. He had plenty of time. Running to the halls of healing and all but throwing open the great doors, Eomer barreled in and was met with your smile, then your cry for him, to which he ran to your side and took your hand at once.
~
"It's a boy," he panted hours later, hand aching from your grip and mind fatigued by pained screams, "our son is here." How in this world could you have endured it all if it drained even a bystander so? What a warrior you were. And what a warrior your son would be! Taking in the cleaned babe being placed in your arms, the enamored smile upon his beloved wife's face, the great rush of joy finally overtook him, all pain and exhaustion melting away for a brief moment. "Our son is here!" He called out again, this time louder, more triumphant, and when you spoke it also in your softer tone Eomer pulled you gently by the back of your head into a kiss that spoke volumes, every year of your love story thus far and all of them to come.
Eowyn
The pains of birth were no stranger to your wife; in fact, Eowyn recognized them before you did, cutting into your panic that something was going wrong with the reassurance that things were going quite right. “Our baby is coming,” she told you with a small smile that quickly faded back down when your knees buckled. She was prepared for this, very prepared. Having been forced into work as a nurse for so long had some benefits, after all, and very quickly your things were in hand, your body settled into the most comfortable position possible, and your wife rolling up her sleeves and pulling back her hair to get to work. Her own child would not be the first she had delivered, simply her favorite by far. Spikes of pressure fought their way up Eowyn’s chest, but just like in the heat of battle they spurred her on and she got to work with renewed courage.
~
“You are doing so well, my love, there we are,” your wife coaxed, “almost done, in fact! Our little one is almost here!” “Really?” You smile widely before your next wince and Eowyn can see her words have encouraged you. You pushed with all you had, and crying out finally forced the head, then finally the whole of your child, out into the world. Eowyn cut the baby free quickly as she could, all her focus tied down to making sure she heard breath before she let herself truly look. At the first call of little lungs she sighed and collapsed down upon her knees, hugging the baby to her chest. “Healthy, perfectly healthy.” Hurriedly cleaning your child, Eowyn saw that you had delivered a girl. “You’ve birthed a healthy girl. We have a daughter, my love!” Hearing you sob, she hurried quickly over to your side. “We both did,” you told her, reaching out to caress your daughter’s reddened cheeks, “Both her mothers birthed her. Where would I be, after all, without you?” It was Eowyn’s turn for tears to fall at your words, smiling as she was when you pulled her close and kissed the crown of her golden head.
Haldir
Long, difficult months had led to the moment of your doubling over with the first pains of birth, hobbling out to where you could find a hand to lead you to the midwives. You were half-knelt at the side of a bed, gripping its post for dear life, when your husband burst in. “Your patrol,” you inquired between waves of pain. “Safely in the hands of another,” Haldir responded, hand groping for one of yours, hastily taking it, “and no, they blame neither of us. Nothing but the pain of death could have separated me from your side.” A smile crossed your face, but moments later another wave of pain split your smile into a cry of agony. “The little ones are coming very rapidly,” one of the midwives told you, “your labor will not be long, at the very least.” At that, you heard Haldir exhale in relief. After such difficultly carrying them, your struggles with the twins would soon abate. Soon they would be in your arms.
~
True to her word, the midwife saw you through every push of labor in just under three hours’ time, one of the fastest she had seen in her many years. Haldir’s grip upon your hand never faltered until the very moment one of the twins was placed wrapped up in his arms. The other held by you, exhausted, shocked, but joyous, tears of relief and celebration flowing. “Two daughters. Two fair and healthy little souls all our own,” Haldir remarked, his voice barely above a whisper and a stunned smile upon his lips as he glanced back your way. The moment your eyes met, tears fell from his, too, and you both let out another exhale in relief; shifting the little one in his arms, Haldir grasped your hand. Smiling up at your husband, despite every strain of pain and exhaustion upon your body, all you could feel was the glow of utter triumph and bliss. “I have said it countless times, I am sure, but you my fair maids have my sword, my word, my heart, my everything,” Haldir told you, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your head, then that of the baby girl in your arms.
Galadriel
How Galadriel managed to remain so calm amidst your heaving breaths and calls of alarm, amidst a healer and midwives forgetting their place and trying to move her from your side, surrounded by bodies and screams and heat and fluid so serene, you would never understand. The way you’d doubled over in the middle of your wife’s vision, failing to smother the choked cry that escaped your lips, and she’d simply risen from the water with wide eyes and a nod, taking your hand. Had she let go? Not as you could recall, though memories blended and faded through great waving curtains of pain. Your strength is beyond admirable, my love. Head swiveling to meet your wife’s intense blue gaze, you smiled faintly. Comparable only to your beauty, her voice teased in your mind. Smile growing, the rush of joy gave you strength for another push…
~
“A daughter,” Galadriel breathes your name, joy permeating every faint crack of her so even voice, “you have borne us a daughter!” You see her extend a hand, accept a cloth you assume shall dry your little one off, but the midwife swipes your newborn for a moment and your wife dabs your tears, then the sweat clinging to your forehead. Setting the small piece of white fabric on the table by your head, Galadriel lets her hand drop down to trace the curve of your cheek, the ring you placed upon her finger some years back on your wedding day sliding over it with a pleasant cool. Your daughter, clean and swaddled, is placed in your arms, and beaming down upon you, your wife takes your hand. “A beautiful gift unlike any this world has seen,” she speaks out loud this time, though it is a whisper, “and surely with a heart as strong as her mother’s.”
Arwen
Pain rushed to you so rapidly it was as though you were stabbed. Crumpling and crying out was how your wife found you, rushing in with skirts held at her sides and dropped just as quickly so Arwen’s hands could close around both of yours, words of worry followed by encouragement whispered between you. Her father was the greatest healer you knew, thus he was to aid in his grandchild’s birth, the first of his family. Elrond was calm when through the veil of your pain you saw your wife bring him into the room, brows faintly furrowed as he pulled back his sleeves. Your hearing practically faded- or was it simply your memory?- as he began giving quiet but firm commands to another elf that followed.
~
Vision blurred with tears, you fell back against the downy pillow, breathing ragged. Much as Lord Elrond could do for you, the pain was still great. "The cord is severed!" You heard him announce and your head snapped back up to see your son in his grandfather's arms, hear him wail as breath filled his lungs. "Our little boy," Arwen grips your arm, grinning down at you, "He is here! Go on, Ada, keep us waiting no longer." Shaking his head at her teasing, Elrond gave you a wide, tearful smile as he lowered your son. Smoothing his dark hair, Arwen gazed down at him with loving eyes before leaning over to you, kissing your lips with such love and joy both of you were smiling into it. "My dearest love, he is so beautiful. Just like his mother."
Elrond
"My lord, your wife-" Lindir needn't say more. Elrond is already gathering up his robes and abandoning entirely the parapet on which he stood, regretting leaving you for a moment even if you had insisted he take some time while you rest. Hurrying down the staircase to your shared room, Elrond finds you sitting bolt upright in bed, brows furrowed and hand resting upon your middle. "I must get to the-" "No," calm as he is, Elrond seems to have developed a habit of interruptions, he thinks, "the midwife will come to you. Lindir?" "Sending for her now, my lord." At Elrond's side, you whimper. All too well does he remember this anguish; nodding, he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Lie still. You will be well."
~
Thank the Valar for healing magic; soon your screams melt into whispers shared between you and your husband and winces become faint, tired smiles. Elrond feels the strain of each push upon you, but marvels at your strength, the midwife all but telling you to slow down. "I beg your pardon," you reply, gritting your teeth, "but I must be free of this!" And free you are, for not long later cries fill the air and tears of relief and joy spill down your cheeks. Elrond caresses your face and meets your eyes with a tearful smile; never does this moment stale, in fact nothing in this world can compare. As soon as the bundle is placed in your hands, you hold your newborn out between you, Elrond taking hold and reaching out his other hand, which your daughter grasps. "She looks just like her mother," he tells you with a smile. "But hopefully she inherited her father's wisdom," you tease back with a tired grin.
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Thoughts on S3 Part 2
(SPOILERS AHEAD)
Even the people of the ton agree that lady Whistledown is cruel. There’s no need to pretend that Penelope is doing this for good. People want to paint her as though she was forced to become LW or she had some grand plan. There’s nothing wrong with having a “moral gray” character, the problem arises when you can’t pick a side. Either the writers should have acknowledged that she isn’t a saint, or had her be “good”.
Penelope can’t let Cressida take credit for LW. Sure, I can somewhat see where she’s coming from. However, is her pride too strong that she can’t sit it aside for Colin. This would have been great for her. If she is so concerned with keeping her LW persona, then shout it from the roof tops! She’s lucky Eloise hasn’t said anything. If she so desperately wants to keep the facade to herself, then girl, tell everyone. All she’s done in this season is cry, cry, cry. Stop with the tears and do something. She’s supposed to be some renaissance woman but whenever the going gets tough she buckles every time.
“What about my dreams?” Penelope from the sounds of it, all your dreams were of Colin. What else is her character besides a fake revolutionary and a Colin stan? She also has no right to look at her mother all confused when she hardly talks to her. What is Portia supposed to think? Penelope hasn’t shared her ambitions to her before so this whole dreams conversation came out of nowhere for her.
Being forced to debut a year early isn’t that bad. She was going to have to do it eventually what's one year sooner? Penelope claims to feel powerless in her own home, but she’s hardly ever there. Instead she’d rather kick it with the Bridgertons. But let’s symathize. Even if this were true, how does that have anything to do with what damage she’s done to other people? Lady Whistledown has never been about solely expressing herself as a means to escape. She blatantly trash talked practically everyone even people she claims to love. So either she’s a fake and doesn’t like the bridgertons as much as she claims or she’s a fake because she’s so easily sueded by what she thinks people want to hear.
Of course Penelope couldn’t be held accountable for her actions, instead she’s caught by Colin.
He claims that he feels he needs to marry Penelope because they were intimate but what about the countless other women? Huh... once again Penelope's privilege in society does her a favor. Because let's be real, if she was just some lady in the slums Colin wouldn't bat an eye.
Colin falls for anything. I honestly don’t think he has any feelings of his own besides his dislike of LW. First Marina now Penelope, Colin swoons for any woman that bats their eyes at him. He’s so easy to manipulate that it’s aggravating to watch.
They are both liars and they don’t trust each other. Pen catches Colin while he catches her. The night before their wedding mind you.
On another note, I know that this might be very… “controversial” but must every dress Penelope wears look as though her breast are going to topple out of them. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a look. But for every single dress? Even when she’s on her nightly escapade to deliver LW.
Colin finally starts speaking with some sense! Penelope drug him and his family through the mud and now all she has to say is she’s sorry and she understands she was misguided. To top it off she claims she did it to get the “old” Colin back. How interesting. Dear gentle readers, can you tell me how Colin has changed from point A to point B. What does the audience know about Colin? He’s some random forgettable guy and truthfully I think even Gregory has more personality than him. What is there for Penelope to miss?
Why are we pretending that that was a good apology? She basically put the blame on him. “Well, if Colin would be himself I wouldn’t have to write about him.” Ok… she also claims that he helped her build confidence in this past year. Am I the only one confused about the time line. I didn’t realize this much time has passed. Barely anything has happened.
Penelope needs to move on. She has her man and her money and her new life. Lady Whistledown shouldn’t even be crossing her mind. The night before her wedding, she’s out and about creating drama.
Now, when has Penelope ever complimented Colin’s writing enough for him to comment on it. If we’re talking about the whole French ladies situation, that was hardly anything of note. I’m also thrown for a loop because I didn’t realize he was supposably a writer.
The love confession only further solidified my belief that Colin is easy to manipulate. Yes, completely forget about the massive argument you were having and instead focus on the fact that Lady Whistledown loves you. What an excellent idea Colin, totally natural.
Despite, their rocky relationship they get married anyway. Which I will say, if you can’t handle “courting”, marriage won’t make things better.
If I were to know nothing about Bridgerton, and I watched the last ball scene, I would have never guessed it was a period drama. I don’t want to be too much of a heckler but, the outfits don’t look historical at all. Their makeup looks too dewy with heavy eye makeup and striking lip colors. Not to say that they’re bad, it’s just not the right look for this kind of show.
Even while confessing to everyone that she was the one writing such vile things, Penelope still manages to make it about how people should feel sorry for her. It’s tiring. She was so captivated that she decided she was going to ruin them. I don’t know why Charlotte acts like this is all in good fun. Girl, she trashed talked your family too. Wrote ill of your family while you were grieving a loss. Pressured you, THE QUEEN, to choose a diamond of the season. Charlotte, this is more than just “a little gossip” she was ruining lives.
Colin admits that he's been trying to separate the idea of Penelope from Whistledown. Exactly what you want in a marriage I’m sure. Your partner despises a part of you so much he can’t bare the thought of it being you… bound to ensure longevity.
What about Penelope’s character is brave? She hides behind her persona and doesn’t even gain the nerve to tell the truth to Colin herself. If she was so brave she would have said what she felt to the masses without LW. She wasn’t brave or selfless enough to let Colin marry Marina. Because what no one wants to bring up is that he was ok with the idea of raising another man's child. She wasn’t brave enough to stand up to Credissa or confront Eloise since she acts as though she was awful to her.
Now to recap something I’ve already said…
Now that Penelope has the featherington heir she becomes what polin stans hate about Eloise, in the fact that she has “everything”. Sure, Eloise is privileged but no one acknowledges that Penelope is too. Holding the power to utterly ruin someone's reputation and making a profit off of it isn’t something that your average lady can say they’ve done. Not to say that she shouldn’t have good things but there’s a point where it gets to feeling like “Mary Sue”. What bad things truly happen to her? She was “poor” but that didn’t last, she didn’t think she was pretty but she got a makeover, she lost her friendship but she’s trying to paint Eloise as the bad guy so clearly she doesn’t care.
Nothing bad that happens to her ever holds any significance because it's either cleared away too soon or doesn’t matter in the long run. It's not like Prudence or Philippa are unsuitable. What wouldn’t she have at this point? She marries into the Bridgerton family, has her Lady Whistledown persona, no one blames her for her actions AND has a son who's lord featherington?
With how much the interviews talked up the "spice" of this season, I have to say I found it lack luster. Nothing about it was particularly jaw dropping. Yes, there is the carriage scene but, when you have a man who a mouth breather and a woman who is actively lying to him, it's hard to find the appeal. Also, unlike the other seasons, I have yet to see a line go viral. AKA- Simon talking about Daphne to the queen, and Anthony's object of my desires speech.
The only note worthy moment's I've seen circulating is people cringing at the balloon scene and not so steamy carriage ride.
Last but not least, furthering my timeline confusion, how long has passed since the wedding? Not to say that it’s impossible, but all three sisters have babies at the same time… and they look and act no different than before.
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If I'm There Chapter: Twenty-Five
read from part one here!
summary: Noah and Natalie met in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind.
this is a complete work of fiction, some characters while based on real people are totally made up. :)
Taglist: @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @thisbicc @laurpartyprogram @to-be-written @concretenoah @thebadchic @madomens @samanthasgone @myownthoughts12 @missduffsblog @jilliemiw86 @malerieee @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @badomenslrh @robabankfuckmickeymouse @darknightstarryeyes @xxkittenkissesxx @mitchhbitch @sorrowsofsilence @blackveilomens
note: I'm sorry I've been gone for so long! I took a much needed writing break but am excited to get back into a schedule. I can't guarantee when I'll upload but I'm sure it won't be another 3 months between updates...lol sorry again.
“Oh shit!” Noah squeals as his roller-blades skitter back and forth trying to catch his balance as Erin circles the two of us as we stake alongside her. I’ve taken her skating several times and have figured out how to remain upright, although I’m no expert I can keep up with the other roller moms. Noah on the other hand is like an unsteady infant taking his first steps. Before he falls on his ass again he reaches out and grabs onto me in an attempt to remain standing.
“Ah! No, don't! Noah!” I cry out as I lose my balance and my stakes fly out from under me and we both fall onto a heap on the floor. I end up on my back with Noah looming over me having caught himself with his hands before crushing me completely. He’s close enough that the short hair that falls in front of his face tickles my forehead.
“Oh, sorry” he says and his breath caresses my cheek. My voice is caught in my throat. I know there is a blush creeping up my neck but I ignore it as we shuffle to get back onto our feet. Sliding and clinging onto the side of the rink to remain upright.
Laughing loudly he looks at me with a smile that takes up half of his face, “guess I’m in need of practice.” I return a small laugh and nod in agreement.
Erin continues to circle us with a quizzical look on her face, “y’all are funny. Let's go! A few more turns and then can we go get ice cream?!” Giggling she rushes off as we slowly follow with Noah refusing to let go of my hand.
“Sorry, I really don’t want to bust my ass again.” Squeezing his hand in encouragement we continue forward after our daughter. “No worries Noah, I’ll catch you if you fall again.”
Noah’s POV
I almost stumble again at her words. She's using the same words I wrote for her all those years ago back at me. Does she even realize what she said? Probably not. Maybe? I shake it off for now as she pulls me forward.
We go around the skating rink hand in hand and I selfishly hold as tight as I can, only letting go once we’ve exited the rink and sat down to take off our stakes.
“So what's good for ice cream around here?” I ask while we turn in our stakes before we head out the door into the hot summer air. “I like Amy's! They have lots of yummy flavors!” Erin cheers. She’s walking between us, holding both of our hands. I was shocked at first when she grabbed my hand but it filled my heart with so much joy—more than I ever thought possible.
“What do you like to get at Amy’s Erin?” I asked while seated in the passenger seat of the car. “Hmmm I like getting sweet cream with Oreos and rainbow sprinkles! It’s sooo good!”
Her excitement is contagious as Natalie’s smile is also spread wide across her face as she listens to Erin. “What about you Nat? What’s your favorite?” I turn my gaze to her and the summer heat has given her a glowy sheen of sweat on her cheeks causing her blush to shine.
She looks so beautiful. I want to kiss her. I wish I could.
“I like to get the Mexican vanilla with strawberries and chocolate chips, I think you’ll like their stuff. Lots of choices.”
I turn up the radio and Erin squeals with joy! “This was in the movie Aunt Hales and I watched!”
“Reaching for something in the distance..”
Natalie sings along with her, “so close you can almost taste it release your inhibitions.”
The song is too good not to sing along, so as we drive to get ice cream, I find myself singing along as well.
“Feel the rain on your skin, no one else can feel it for you! Only you can let it in..”
Did I think six months ago I would be singing Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield in the car with my daughter and the girl I've always loved? Not at all, but this is something I wouldn’t trade for anything. I won’t let her get away this time, I’m just going to have to play the long game and hopefully, she will trust me with her heart again.
Hours later, after some amazing ice cream Natalie and Erin are dropping me off at my Airbnb. I chose something that wasn’t too far from their house and there’s a pool. Erin was excited about that. She was running from room to room looking at all of the spaces.
“I got this place because it has lots of room, so if Erin ever wanted to spend the night she would have her own space,” I say to Natalie. She smiles softly, “she’d love that Noah. Maybe when she gets back from art camp?” she responds.
“And of course you two can come over and use the pool whenever, even next week Erins at camp? You could come over and hang out? The other guys will be here Thursday” I ask nervously. God, why am I so nervous, I’ve known Nat for years. It’s not weird to ask her to hang out…right?
“I would love that, I’m free on Wednesday?” She says looking out at the yard as Erin runs in the grass next to the water.
So she knows the guys won’t be here until Thursday but wants to come over on Wednesday.. that’s good? right? Stop reading into it man, just live.
“Wednesday is amazing, I’ll grab snacks.” god I sound pathetic.
She giggles while we watch Erin take off doing cartwheels now, “she is an endless stream of energy.” she comments quietly. “She really is, I’d like some of that. I’m exhausted.”
Natalie’s energy shifts slightly, “oh you’re right. You’ve been on the move all day. We should get out of your hair so you can relax.”
“Oh- no that’s-” I try to catch her but she’s already at the backdoor quietly calling for Erin to head home. Why did I say that?…idiot.
“Noah! This house is awesome!! I can’t wait to come over this summer! After my camp next week I’m totally coming over to swim!” she says as she runs up to give her a goodbye hug.
I return the hug, wrapping her tight in my arms. “Can’t wait for it kiddo, I’ll grab some floats this weekend. It’ll be a fun summer for sure.” I say looking up to see Natalie snapping what I’m sure she was hoping was an incognito photo. “Send that to me please?”
She nods and they move to exit, “Nat, wait.” I reach and softly grab her arm, pulling her quickly into a hug. “I’ll see you later, I had fun today.”
“I had fun too Noah.” her hands squeeze my sides briefly before she releases and they head to their car. They pull out of the driveway and a thought hits me.
I rush to my guitar and sit down to get the idea out while it’s fresh in my head.
I can wait for you at the bottom
I can stay away if you want me to
I can wait for years if I gotta
Heaven knows I ain’t getting over you
Can we try again?
When we’re not so different
Can we make amends?
Why can’t we just pretend?
I jot down the slightly altered lyrics on a random scrap of paper I see in my guitar case and shut it.
I finish unpacking and jump into the shower to rinse off. I hop out at the exact time I see my phone ringing, Erin is calling.
“Hey, kiddo! What’s up?”
“Hey, Noah! I was wondering if you would come with us on Sunday to drop me off at camp. It’s a couple of hours away though so if you have plans I understand.”
“I don’t have anything going on, I’d love to tag along.”
“MOM! HE SAID YES! - sweetheart I thought we agreed we’d call tomorrow? Noah’s had a long day - I was too excited…I’m sorry Noah.”
“Hey, it’s no worries kiddo! You can call me whenever you need too.”
“Mom?! Did you hear that? Noah said it’s okay!”
I hear Natty’s laugh on the other end of the phone and it kills me that we’re not just all together laughing. Lately that’s all I can think about. All I want.
“Well I am supposed to look at what clothes I’m packing for camp right now but I’ll see you on Sunday!”
“I’ll see you Sunday kiddo.”
Natalie POV
“So is it like a date?” Haylie asks. Were sitting on her bed later that night after having packed Erin’s camp bag and her going to bed.
“It’s not a date! It’s swimming. We’re just two old friends hanging out.” the moment the words are out of my mouth I know it’s bullshit. I don’t know if it will ever feel like just two old friends with Noah.
“I’d argue with you but I know you don’t even believe what you just said so it’s pretty pointless.” I throw my head back onto the pillows and sigh in defeat.
“I wish I believed it. I wish I could just be normal around him. It’s like I’m a teenager all over again…do I remember everything bad that happened? Of course..but I also remember all of the good things..ugh! Why are feelings so complicated?! Like am I a horrible person with no backbone if I forgive him for everything and just let him back into my life like no time has passed? Or am I a bitch if I keep him at arm’s length for the rest of our lives despite my feelings for him because of mistakes we made as kids?”
I feel the bed dip down as Haylie sits down next to me. “Unfortunately I don’t have the answer for you, but I know you are not a horrible person or a bitch. Life is complicated and confusing and all you can do is consider what is best for you and Erin. I’ll support you no matter what you choose to do…but what I will say is that since you two started talking again…you’ve been different. Happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.”
She’s right. I’ve felt happier than I have in years since I reconnected with Noah. That has to mean something.
Maybe it’s time to just let myself be open to what could happen.
Could we even have anything like that again?
Under the same Texas moon, two lonely hearts thought in tandem if the other may be open to loving them again.
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degradation taken too far (mature content 18+)
context/warnings : it’s smut, so kids shoo! hell of a lot of degradation. they’re so mean i hate them. (swearing, words used : slut and slutty) angst to i have no idea what. pls do lmk if i missed any tws. and as always, its not proofread :p gojo ver.
ryomen sukuna ‘is that all you can do? all your yapping earlier about ridin’ me was just talks? answer me’ his sudden shift in demeanour has you feeling really small. sure he is a rude ass prick but not to you. never to you.
‘no- i can take it. i really can ryo’ tears sting at your eyes as you struggle to take in his full length. his hands giving your waist a small squeeze.
‘yeah and that’s all you’ve been saying for the past goddamn fifteen minutes. either you take it like a good girl or i’ll just have to find someone who will. trust me, i can’ he eyes held no remorse of the words he just spewed and that’s when you break.
correction, you shatter.
somewhere in the back of your head you knew he’ll never leave you but him wording it out makes it seem like it’s bound to happen.
and so tears stroll down your cheeks, your hands and legs giving out on you, your body going limp against his and you whisper the same thing over and over again.
‘don’t leave me ryo. i’m sorry. didn’t mean to upset you. i’m so sorry. don’t leave’
quickly his arms wrap around your body protectively, your face between his shoulder blade and neck, wetting the area with fresh batch of tears.
‘i could never leave you. you’re-’ you’re it for me. ‘you’re always the one that keeps me sane. there’s no way i’ll ever leave you. i’m sorry baby, forgive me. i didn’t mean a word of what i said’ he says.
when he didn’t get a response from you ‘look at me’ he whispers. slowly you leave the comfort of his neck and meet his eyes.
‘i didn’t mean it. you could leave me on deathbed and i still wouldn’t mean it’
‘i can’t leave you ryo. i love you way too much’ you sniffle, new tears threatening to spill so you go back to huddle against his neck.
god. he knows you mean it. and that’s what makes him feel like a dickhead.
‘me too, i- i lo-’ he struggles, just as your palm reaches up to cover his mouth.
‘i know ryo, i know’ you whisper, placing your forehead against his, both of you basking in the quietness of the surrounding.
geto suguru ‘fuckin-! ah shit! some insane grip you have on me baby. can’t move if you clench and lock me up like that’ he smirks against your neck.
‘and a bit quiet today ain’t ya? you sure had a lot to say to satoru earlier heh’ he remarks.
‘we were just catching up suguru, nothing-! nothing more’ you whine.
‘catching up you say? does catching up require smiles and touches? do they angel baby?’ he raises his eyebrows.
‘no..’ you avert your eyes away from his.
‘that’s what i thought. so for that, now you pay’ he pulls out suddenly, and pushes all the way back in making you yelp out loud.
‘sugu! ah fuck, i don’t think i can go another round baby. s’too much!’ the pressure was starting to get to you and you were starting to lose stability.
‘hah, i know you can baby, this slutty pussy’s all you’re good for anyway. fuck, doesn’t matter whose it is, as long as you’re filled. am i right?’ his words pierced straight through your heart.
since when did he-?
out of reflex, your hands reach out to touch his face to make sure that this was a dream nightmare. otherwise there’s no way he-
‘don’t touch me with those filthy hands’ he spits but makes no effort to push your hand off.
‘do you really think that’s all i’m good for?’ your voice is soft, filled with pain, and suddenly it’s like he’s broken out of his trance.
what the fuck am i doing, he thought.
slowly he pulls out, all whilst holding your hand against his cheek.
‘absolutely not. no. fuck, did not mean it angel. i promise. i- i don’t know what came over me-! didn’t mean it. please i’m sorry. next time if i ever lose my shit with you, i want you to take the nearest sharp object and plunge it into my chest’ he heaves out a guttural sigh.
‘you were really mean you know..’ you wipe your eyes.
‘i know baby, fuck. i didn’t mean it. i did not mean it. i’ll never do it again princess, ever’ he repeats.
his face lands on your chest, thanking all the gods and the stars out there for giving him another chance.
he’ll never screw up again and that’s a promise.
nanami kento ‘you really couldn’t wait for a few hours? just had to go and think with your cunt, right? have you no- ugh! no shame?’ his thrusts were sloppy as his hands were placed around your hips.
‘kento- slow down baby, i- i don’t think i can last’ you whine, hands clutching at the sheets.
‘no. you asked for this you little slut. so shut. the. fuck. up. and take it!’ each syllable was accompanied by a harsh thrust.
the usually composed, sweet and calm nanami was nowhere to be found. he’s never once called you a ‘slut’ and what caused this? you rubbing him through his pants and riling him up at his office dinner earlier tonight.
he warned you off multiple times but did you listen? no.
‘why are you so quiet now? i thought this is what you wanted’ his voice comes out raspy and cold.
a quiet but audible whimper escaped your lips, making him halt his actions.
slowly he pulled out, gently laying you on your back as your body shook with each sob.
‘sweetheart…? why are you…’
you look up at him, eyes puffy and swolllen ‘i’m sorry kento, it’s just that, you’re never home these days and i missed you so much’ a cry that’s sure to crack his heart leaves your lips.
‘i just wanted you all to myself for tonight but i didn’t mean to be a bother-’
his warm body hovers over yours, ‘you’re never a bother baby. always know that. you will always be at the top of every and any list i make. there’s nothing more i want than coming home to you everyday after work. and i didn’t mean to lash out at you. you didn’t deserve that, i’m sorry’ he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
‘you will always have me sweetheart, never forget that. now let me make it up to you yeah?’
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