My Life’s One Never-Ending Carnival

𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑔 𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠 𝑀𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑑 ＆ 𝐴𝑔𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝

[ennui-whimsy-and-me]

⟣ ᴍᴀᴅᴅɪᴇ ⭢ ᴄɪʀᴄᴀ '99 ⭢ ɴᴇᴜʀᴏsᴘɪᴄʏ ⭢ ǫᴜᴇᴇʀ ⟢

"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎. 𝚆𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍."

- 𝙶𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙿𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚔, 𝙰𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚛: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝙰𝚒𝚛𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛

❧ 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

❧ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐲

❧ 𝐎𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

❧ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧

[athenalicious]

oh man the butterflies going straight to alicent after her death💔💔💔 oh may her beautiful soul rest in peace

[ennui-whimsy-and-me]

Seeing the butterfly symbolism for Helaena after her death, immediately thinking about Olivia Rodrigo’s “Can’t Catch Me Now”, then seeing someone’s edit on here of her with wings AND quoting that song???

I’m not okay. I will never be okay. I need 5-7 business days to buffer.

[str4ngexmult1verse]

But I'm in the trees, I'm in the breeze, My footsteps on the ground, You'll see my face in every place, But you can't catch me now

[keepmypeace]

[mypoisonedvine]

me blocking people who never comment on or reblog fics after reading 💕

[halos2deac-deactivated20260223]

yep

[krazys-ass-emporium]

[dgwwm4]

"You were made to take this cock" while her eyes roll back and she cums all over it

[prokopetz]

It's always fun when an author claims their work contains no politics, because either they're blatantly lying, or they genuinely think they're telling the truth and you get a lot of insight into what assertions about human nature they regard as so obviously and self-evidently true as to lie outside the political sphere.

[srryaboutallthatnoise]

Friendly reminder that Tommy bought his mum a coconut and top hat because he thought she deserved nice things

He thought about her, as an adult, half off his rockers. Spoke to her spirit when he couldn’t kill himself. Had a photograph of her amongst the precious things he planned on burning when the wagon burned.

This other scene is devastating to witness. The whole thing. He struggles to even ask the question, paces in place before the words actually come out and then when Charlie does recall the whole story he struggles even more. He holds back tears and we can see the tension in his face, the rapid blinking, the grappling with everything he’s feeling.

“Tell me the things that didn’t make sense”

Tommy sounded like an actual boy when saying this, the morbid curiosity to know his mother’s last days/hours, to know the things that plagued her, to know if she felt the same way he’s feeling.

Tommy loved his mother even if we only saw glimpses of it

[ofstarsandvibranium]

there’s no way this man can be real. 😂

[inheroes--wetrust]

canon:

fanfiction:

[moodyabbott]

passenger princess

pope x reader | mdni

—

the music was at a comfortable volume as she sings along to the radio. giggling and bopping her head as pope smiles form the drivers seat.

then all at once, she suddenly goes quiet.

pope glances over briefly before looking back at the road. “what?”

she doesn’t answer right away, shaking her head as she sighs.

her eyes are fixed out the window, expression crumpling so slowly it almost catches him off guard.

then he sees it too.

a dead deer off the shoulder of the highway, half-hidden in the dry grass.

“that poor baby…” she whispers, voice already breaking.

pope’s grip tightens on the steering wheel for a second. “hey, hey. it happens—don’t look at it.”

too late… she already was.

her hands fly up to cover her eyes, tears falling so fast it’s like something inside her physically hurts from seeing it there alone. “it was probably so scared,” she chokes out. “ohhhh god…”

pope immediately reaches over the center console, hand settling on her thigh and says her name, trying to get her to snap out of her sorrow.

she shakes her head twice, trying to stop crying before it really starts, which only makes it worse. “it’s just laying there…”

“i know.”

“no one even stopped.” her voice cracks on the last word.

pope exhales quietly through his nose, already flicking on his blinker.

“w- what are you doing?” she asks.

“i’m pulling over for a second.”

he guides his new truck onto the shoulder farther ahead, away from the sight of the deer. he then puts it in park.

she starts to string out apologies for crying, thinking that he’s probably so fed up with her.

she’s too emotional she thinks.

pope is already turning toward her fully. “c’mere.”

the second he opens his arms she practically folds into him.

pope pulls her across the console as much as he can, one hand cradling the back of her head while she hides her face against his chest, sniffling miserably.

“i’m sorry. i just— it makes me so upset,” she mumbles into his shirt.

“i know it does.”

his voice is softer now. softer than most people ever hear from him, except for lena.

he rubs his large hand hand up and down her back slowly while she cries, not rushing her through it even a little.

outside, cars keep flying past on the highway, but inside the truck everything feels still.

“you’ve got too big a heart,” he murmurs against her hair.

she lets out another sad little sound. “was probably alone and confused..”

that one gets him. pope knows that feeling all too well.

he closes his eyes, signing as his jaw tightens because of course that’s the part she’s thinking about. not herself. the fucking animal.

“baby,” he says gently, thumb brushing beneath her eye when she finally looks up at him, “you can’t carry every sad thing you see.”

“i can’t help it.” she says sniffling her last few tears.

“i know you can’t.”he coos.

of course he knows.

that’s why he doesn’t tease her for it or ever think to tell her she’s overreacting. he doesn’t make her feel stupid for crying over something everyone else drove past without a second thought.

i stead he kisses her forehead slowly and keeps holding her until her breathing evens out again.

after a few minutes he smiles at her tenderly.

“you wanna stop somewhere and get a coffee before we keep driving?”

[ennui-whimsy-and-me]

STOPPPP!!!! Because I think this every damn time!!!

[abbotsmyhabit]

pope cody who asks you to give him a haircut, not expecting you to take in a dramatic gasp and climb into his lap, straddling his thighs, resting your hands on his broad shoulders.

"you want me to cut your perfect curls?" you say, running your fingers through his hair, tilting his face up towards you, "i don't think i can do that my love,"

"J said his girlfriend cuts his hair," pope says, looking up at you with a glimmer of confusion in his eyes, gripping down on your waist, "i just thought because you're mine..."

"i am yours," you say, leaning forward, placing a soft, sweet kiss on his lips, "but you look so handsome just the way you are,"

popes eyes flick down to where his hands rest on your waist, a small blush spreading across his cheeks.

"are you gonna ask me to cut off a toe next?" you say dramatically, twisting one of his auburn coils around your finger, "like, where does it end?"

"it's just hair," pope says, a small smile playing on his lips at your antics, "it'll grow back,"

you smile back at him before pulling his head to your chest, burying your face in his soft curls, breathing in his warm smell.

"i'll miss you," you mumble against his head. pope smacks your ass playfully.

"i don't want you to buzz it," he says as you pull back with a mischievous grin on your face, "just a little trim,"

"ok," you sigh, leaning forward, brushing the tip of your nose against his, "only because I love you so much,"

"i love you so much," pope says before connecting your lips in a gentle kiss.

[ennui-whimsy-and-me]

Honestly, same reaction

Not the curls 😭

They’re so beautiful 😭🫠

[mparksy]

literally pumped this out in just over an hour after having no motivation to write all day. i don’t know what possessed me but i am grateful.

— ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Pope Cody with a girlfriend who is constantly doting on him and doing little things for him and being oh so considerate that he literally doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Until you, he’s never been in a relationship where his needs are met, let alone even acknowledged. He honestly didn’t even know he was supposed to be treated this way. It never even occurred to him that his girl was supposed to worry over him.

But you? God, do you worry. Maybe too much, he thinks.

Your first Summer together, you spend a lot of days in Smurf’s backyard with Pope, enjoying the sunshine and taking dips in the pool.

You’re very diligent about your sunscreen, making sure to reapply every 90 minutes per the bottles instructions.

While he doesn’t say anything, Pope’s glad for it. He doesn’t want you to burn that soft skin of yours.

But you don’t just apply it on yourself, no. After making sure you’re thoroughly lathered up, you turn to your boyfriend.

“Here Andrew, your turn,” you say, handing him the bottle of sunscreen. You’re so casual about it, giving him something he didn’t even have to ask for, not even batting an eye.

“It’s okay, I don’t need any.”

You whip your head toward him at that.

“Yes, you do,” you say, matter of fact. Like there’s no room for argument. “I don’t want you getting burned.”

Without another word, you pop off the top of the bottle and squirt some of the white liquid into your hands, rubbing them together before starting to spread the cream up and down one of Pope’s arms.

The idea that you care about him enough to make sure he’s protected from the sun hits him entirely out of left field, causing him to flinch at the unexpected touch.

To him, it makes no sense. You’re really willing to do that for him? Make sure every inch of his body is coated in SPF just so he doesn’t get a measly sunburn? Christ, he’s never even cared about his skin as much as you do right now.

And it doesn’t just stop there. Midday, when the sun is high in the sky and blazing down violently on the two of you, making you both sticky with sweat, you gulp from your large thermos of water and pass it over to Pope without a word.

“Why am I holding this?” He asks so innocently, truly unsure of the answer.

“Drink it.”

“Why?”

“It’s hot out, you need to hydrate.”

He looks at you dumbly, puppy dog eyes shining in the sunlight. “But it’s yours.”

“No, it’s ours. I brought the big bottle so we could share.”

Pope’s heart swells at that. God, what were you doing to him?

Shyly, he takes a few gulps from the bottle and hands it back to you.

You smile, satisfied, and set the water back into your bag, away from the burning sun.

Later, after you’ve both had enough of lounging outside, you make your way indoors and settle on the sofa.

Pope flicks through the TV channels, looking for something he thinks you’d like. He hesitates for a moment when he passes by the National Geographic channel. They’re showing a documentary about sharks that he’d been wanting to watch.

But he’s got you cuddled up next to him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, legs kicked up over his lap, and you wouldn’t be interested in watching that.

So he flicks through a few more channels, finally settling on a romcom, a genre he knows for a fact that you enjoy. The two of you sit there in silence for a moment, your fingers still twirling in his hair.

“Andrew,” you say, more of a statement than a question.

Pope turns his head to look at you, but your eyes are still on the TV. “Yes?”

“Go back to that shark thing.”

He blinks. “Why?”

“Just go back, please.”

He obliges, looking back to the screen so he can scroll back a few channels.

“What about it?” He questions as he searches your face for answers, using the hand not holding the remote to absentmindedly draw small circles on the plush skin of your thigh.

“I wanna watch it,” you state, eyes glued to the great white that swims across the screen.

Pope’s brows furrow in confusion. “No, you don’t.”

“I do.”

“You’re only saying that because you saw me hesitate to change the channel. Don’t do that. You get to pick the show,” he grumbles.

You can feel that his eyes are still on you, but you don’t turn your gaze toward him. “I am picking. This is what I pick.”

“C’mon, be serious. I know you’d rather watch the chick flick—”

“Shhhh,” you interrupt. “I’m trying to watch this, Andrew.”

He knows you’re lying. Knows you’re not as interested in the documentary as he is. But the fact that you’d do this for him, watch something you’re only mildly interested in simply because he wants to, and make it seem like it was your idea in the first place, has a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Okay, sorry,” he responds, a blush creeping up his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

“It’s okay,” you say, laying your head against his shoulder and placing your free hand on his chest.

Pope drops the remote on the couch cushion next to him and places his hand overtop yours, interlocking your fingers.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“For what?”

“For being so good to me. I don’t deserve it.”

You lift your head to face him, and he regrets his words as soon as he sees the look on your face. You look like he tore your heart right out of your chest.

“Everything I do for you is because I love you. Because you’re so good to me. Because nobody has ever cared for me the way you do. Don’t ever tell me that you don’t deserve that.”

You scold him like he’s just told you something awful. He realizes then that in your eyes, he did.

“I’m sorry, I just— I’ve never had someone do for me the things you do. I don’t know what to do with myself,” he admits, quietly.

Your heart shatters at that. Knowing that the sweetest man you’ve ever known hasn’t felt true, unconditional love. Love without strings, expectations, or requirements. Love that doesn’t need to be earned.

“Don’t apologize. I’m new at this too. We’ll figure it out together, okay?” you say, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah, okay,” he breathes, squeezing your hand back in response.

“Okay, good. Now shut up and let me watch this documentary. We missed all the good stuff.”

— ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

he deserved someone who loved him with no conditions I’m Sickkkk

[ennui-whimsy-and-me]

He deserves all the lovings 😭😭😭💕💕💕

[harrystylesyogurt]

baby don’t play about his button up!!!

[tumbleweedstillhaspanic]

Reader who cooks for Andrew Pope Cody not as a way to manipulate him with a sense of false care the way Smurf does. When Smurf cooks for her family it’s not out of genuine love and a desire to nurture her loved ones bodies. It is a way to remind them that she provides for them so the least they can do is fall in line for her.

Reader cooks for Pope as a love language. She’s into caring for those she loves. What better way to show that love than by making homemade Italian wedding soup, lasagna, and garlic bread for dinner for no special occasion.

Pope who shovels in the meals even having seconds even when he claims he’s not got much of an appetite.

Reader who learns new recipes and Pope who is happy to try them out

Reader who cooks dinner for Pope and his brothers no one telling Smurf about the dinners. She’d see Reader as competition even more so than she already does.

Pope who has to up his exercise game to combat the extra servings of chili and spaghetti

Pope who feels cared for in the most domestic lovely way possible.

Pope who learns to cook something beyond sandwiches just so he can return the favor for his girlfriend.

[ennui-whimsy-and-me]

🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠